Assuming Universal Morality

I find Walzer’s assumption of morality as a universal slightly dangerous. He states, “It’s not the case, however, that people carry around two moralities in their head,” and he continues that all people “have some sense of what tyranny is and why it is wrong” in order to relate to protestors in other countries. Like the arbitrary and ascribed nature of identity we have discussed, I am wary of assuming that there is a universal moral code. Even the proof Walzer cites, such as reading about ‘justice’ in Deuteronomy, shows an underlying Christian-centric and Western-centric worldview that inherently shapes his personal moral code. While he argues that morality is both general and culture-specific, believing in the existence of any universal basic morality could lead to harmful intervention and cultural imperialism. For example, the United States government has intervened in countries from Chile to Iraq because of the assumption that democracy is a universal value and a Western/US-specific definition of, as Walzer puts it, “what tyranny is and why it is wrong.”

Walzer claims, “It is possible, nonetheless, to give some substantial account of the moral minimum. I see nothing wrong with the effort to do that so long as we understand that it is necessarily expressive of our own thick morality.” I agree that taking a step back and analyzing the ways in which our own context affects our values is helpful when comparing situations. However, it seems difficult to define a moral minimum that applies to all people, especially because the concept of morality is so abstract that it is impossible to fully communicate what it means to another person in an entirely different culture.

Justice, gradually or not at all

Patricio Aylwin’s method of moving forward after a period of state-sponsored violence balanced the moral and practical, although perhaps leaning toward practical in order to avoid another military takeover. Aylwin capitalized on the “no” vote to Pinochet’s plebiscite, but he also allowed for Pinochet to leave the political arena with some dignity (first stepping down to army commander in chief). While this may not have offered victims of torture the kind of catharsis they would have preferred and even deserved, Aylwin recognized that long-term justice and democracy could only be achieved in steps. His establishment of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission recognized the atrocities committed similarly to Brasil: Nunca Mais. Once the report was published, Pinochet eventually resigned from government, and the Chilean judicial system could move forward with prosecution of the torturers from the previous regime. Aylwin’s decision integrated morality with practicality because had he immediately prosecuted Pinochet, the military likely would have staged another coup and Aylwin would not have been able to achieve any sort of retribution for Chile’s victims.

Winner-take-all democracy

The elementary school elections in Please Vote For Me are an example of the type of winner-take-all democracy described by Juan Linz in “The Perils of Presidentialism.” Linz describes how presidential democracy results in a “zero-sum game, with all the potential for conflict such games portend” (123). Because the three children have nothing to gain from the success of their competitors (ie. no coalitions will be formed, there are no other positions to fill other than class monitor), the election process invites foul play such as Cheng Cheng asking a classmate to yell insults during Xiofei’s speech. It’s interesting and somewhat surprising that the type of democracy used in a Chinese classroom closely mirrors (at least in this sense) American presidentialism.

Even the children’s parents, who grew up with a more traditional Chinese education that probably did not glorify democracy, became very invested in and excited about the elections. At the risk of projecting my own pro-Democratic, Western viewpoint, this shows the infectious nature of democracy. The role of the parents indicates that being able to elect a representative, even in as small a case as class monitor, is inherently appealing across societies and cultures.

Western Industrialism as a Universal Model

Lerner describes Balgat’s progress within the framework of Western industrialism. He observes change, and after meeting with the Chief describes that “a sign of the gravity of these changes was that he – of a lineage that had always been Muhtars and landowners – was no longer a farmer” (55). Lerner attributes this change to two major causes: first, upcoming elections which will incorporate Balgat into Greater Ankara, after which it will be administered under the general municipal system (a more Westernized form of government).

Lerner’s second cause is the new bus station which leaves every hour to Ankara. When he sees this, he exclaims, “The villagers were getting out of their holes at last” (51). The emphasis on transportation and connection as a form of progress echoes the definition in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, in which major change is attributed to the railroad. John Gray would look critically at Lerner’s assumption that the same industrial / Western model of progress will work for all societies. Lerner does not take Balgat’s cultural history into consideration, which distorts the way he sees changes as “forward” or beneficial progress. This comes into play when Lerner describes the Grocer as “yearning to be comfortably rich in an interesting city” (54). He clearly places value judgment on the town by contrasting it to a more-developed and thus more interesting city, and assumes that all people strive toward Westernization.

Sensationalist journalism, not scientific analysis

Gessen’s claim that “Russia is dying of a broken heart” is misplaced in scientific or even social analysis. She attempts to use a kind of middle-range theory, such as the one Ziblatt advocates for, to describe a country of over 144 million people over a range of almost 100 years. Gessen completely fails to examine the scope conditions and any limitations on generalizing her (already questionable) findings. The conclusion that the death rate in Russia is due to cardiovascular disease is quite possibly a solid one – however, she fails to substantiate it with convincing evidence. It is true that the physiological outcome of stress, mediated by many deleterious effects of the hormone cortisol, can lead to immune suppression and increase the chance of contracting disease such as CVD. However, Gessen uses ungeneralizable and unsubstantiated evidence that in no way qualifies as scientific.

Gessen’s emotional approach, beginning with an (irrelevant) sob-story about how she lost many friends to AIDS in the US and then was told she shouldn’t be surprised that her Russian friends were dying as well – literally “crying on a friend’s shoulder” – is antithetical to any type of scientific study. While emotional appeals can be effective in journalism, Gessen’s article masquerades as scientific analysis of Russia’s high death rate, a quantitative statistic. Scientists of all kinds, including those in “soft” sciences, strive for impartiality because emotion leads to distortion such as confirmation bias. Gessen’s emotional connection to the country also dissuades her from considering what Scott proposed – that people may lie to analysts to portray themselves or their culture in a certain light. Parsons’ “long, unstructured interviews” offer only the perspectives of several in millions, and there is no guarantee that that these perspectives are reliable.

The weakest aspect of Gessen’s analysis is when she connects the “brief breaks in the downward spiral” with periods “of greater hope,” namely the Kruschev and Gorbachev eras. There is nothing that indicates causality between these eras and hope, or hope and low death rate. It would be more accurate to discuss the effects of less-repressive regimes and more open economies on, for example, food availability and nutrition, or stillbirths. Gessen states, “death and birth statistics appear to reflect nothing but despair.” Not only does she imply causality here, she implies exclusive causality! This is a huge oversight and inappropriate for any remotely scientific analysis.

In Orwell’s Burma, he has the power

In “Shooting an Elephant,” George Orwell offers the point of view that the Burmese (the oppressed) have the real power over the British officers (the oppressors). Because of the expectations created by the position of power Orwell is in, he feels that he is not able to show any weakness. When debating whether or not to shoot the elephant, he worries that “the crowd would laugh at me. And my whole life, every white man’s life in the East, was one long struggle not to be laughed at” (3). This argument relies heavily on Havel’s idea that a regime imposed without consent of the governed can tolerate no cracks in its façade.

I disagree with Orwell, because while the white police officers may be trapped in a performance (giving the Burmese some psychological power), they have the physical means of oppression, a much more tangible form of power. Orwell earlier recognizes, “The Burmese population had no weapons and were quite helpless” (1). Although he writes this in the context of the elephant, it applies as well in the context of British imperialism. Orwell alone can obtain the physical means to destroy the elephant, just as Orwell alone (along with his white comrades) can obtain physical means of power to oppress the Burmese. Orwell seems to get caught up in his own insecurities and therefore overlook the importance of force in determining power structures.

Flawed Assumptions

Gatto’s claim in “Against School” that the modern system of public education is unnecessary is overly idealistic because it assumes that we live in a meritocracy. He states that “plenty of people throughout the world today find a way to educate themselves without resorting to a system of compulsory secondary schools that all too often resemble prisons” (34). It is valid that secondary schools’ curriculum may be uncreative and not applicable to certain real-life situations. However, Gatto’s claim completely overlooks the current framework of our society, for example how almost all high-paying jobs require a college degree. I would argue that to assume our society is a meritocracy ignores entrenched power structures based on class, race, and gender – one could even claim we are closer to an aristocracy. Because of this, the somewhat arbitrary distinction of school diplomas is (with exceptions) necessary in order to maintain one’s position in society. This is one reason that many parents insist on their child getting a college education – not for the education itself, but because it is a class distinction.

Gatto also conflates materialism / commercialism with childishness, which is not logical. Marketing is not appealing because of uncreative schooling – it is appealing because of psychological and even physiological factors involved in addiction, desire, and satisfaction (that those behind marketing campaigns are acutely aware of). Marketing capitalizes on these known aspects of human nature, which has nothing to do with childishness. We may like to believe that “actual adults” would not be susceptible to these “political exhortations and commercial blandishments,” but that is simply not how our brains and bodies work.