Wonderful. Now that one I enjoyed reading. Laurie
----- Original Message -----
From: Daniel Reeves
Date: Wednesday, December 1, 2004 8:08 pm
Subject: article on red-blue alliance
> Cam writes,
>
> > My goal here is to urge everyone to create a better world by
> trying to
> > understand each other. In this case, it means researching the other
> > side to the same extent we research our own vs. blindly pushing
> for the
> > extreme right or left, while in reality hoping to end up with a
> slightly> different definition of the middle.
>
> Here's an article in that spirit that I found interesting:
>
> http://www.techcentralstation.com/112904A.html
> [text of article follows]
>
> Faculty Clubs and Church Pews
> By William J. Stuntz
> Published 11/29/2004
>
> The past few months have seen a lot of talk about red and blue
> America,
> mostly by people on one side of the partisan divide who find the
> other
> side a mystery.
>
> It isn't a mystery to me, because I live on both sides. For the
> past
> twenty years, I've belonged to evangelical Protestant churches,
> the kind
> where George W. Bush rolled up huge majorities. And for the past
> eighteen
> years, I've worked in secular universities where one can hardly
> believe
> that Bush voters exist. Evangelical churches are red America at
> its
> reddest. And universities, especially the ones in New England
> (where I
> work now), are as blue as the bluest sky.
>
> Not surprisingly, each of these institutions is enemy territory to
> the
> other. But the enmity is needless. It may be a sign that I'm
> terminally
> weird, but I love them both, passionately. And I think that if my
> church
> friends and my university friends got to know each other, they'd
> find a
> lot to like and admire. More to the point, the representatives of
> each
> side would learn something important and useful from the other
> side. These
> institutions may be red and blue now. But their natural color is
> purple.
> You wouldn't know it from talking to the people who populate
> universities
> or fill church pews.
>
> A lot of my church friends think universities represent the forces
> of
> darkness. Law schools -- my corner of the academic world -- are
> particularly suspect. A fellow singer in a church choir once asked
> me what
> I did for a living. When I told her, she said, "A Christian
> lawyer? Isn't
> that sort of like being a Christian prostitute? I mean, you can't
> really
> do that, right?" She wasn't kidding. And if I had said no, you
> don't
> understand; I'm a law professor, not a lawyer, I'm pretty sure
> that would
> not have helped matters. ("Oh, so you train people to be
> prostitutes?")
> You hear the same kinds of comments running in the other
> direction. Some
> years ago a faculty colleague and I were talking about religion
> and
> politics, and this colleague said "You know, I think you're the
> first
> Christian I've ever met who isn't stupid." My professor friend
> wasn't
> kidding either. I've had other conversations like these -- albeit
> usually
> a little more tactful -- on both sides, a dozen times over the
> years.
> Maybe two dozen. People in each of these two worlds find the other
> frightening, and appalling.
>
> All of us are appalling, I suppose, but these reactions are mostly
> due to
> ignorance. Most of my Christian friends have no clue what goes on
> in
> faculty clubs. And my colleagues in faculty offices cannot imagine
> what
> happens in those evangelical churches on Sunday morning.
>
> In both cases, the truth is surprisingly attractive. And
> surprisingly
> similar: Churches and universities are the two twenty-first
> century
> American enterprises that care most about ideas, about language,
> and about
> understanding the world we live in, with all its beauty and
> ugliness.
> Nearly all older universities were founded as schools of theology:
> a
> telling fact. Another one is this: A large part of what goes on in
> those
> church buildings that dot the countryside is education -- people
> reading
> hard texts, and trying to sort out what they mean.
>
> Another similarity is less obvious but no less important. Ours is
> an
> individualist culture; people rarely put their community's welfare
> ahead
> of their own. It isn't so rare in churches and universities.
> Churches are
> mostly run by volunteer labor (not to mention volunteered money):
> those
> who tend nurseries and teach Sunday School classes get nothing but
> a pat
> on the back for their labor. Not unlike the professors who staff
> important
> faculty committees. An economist friend once told me that
> economics
> departments are ungovernable, because economists understand the
> reward
> structure that drives universities: professors who do thankless
> institutional tasks competently must do more such tasks. Yet the
> trains
> run more or less on time -- maybe historians are running the
> economics
> departments -- because enough faculty attach enough importance to
> the
> welfare of their colleagues and students. Selfishness and
> exploitation are
> of course common too, in universities and churches as everywhere
> else. But
> one sees a good deal of day-to-day altruism, which is not common
> everywhere else.
>
> And each side of this divide has something to teach the other.
> Evangelicals would benefit greatly from the love of argument that
> pervades
> universities. The "scandal of the evangelical mind" -- the title
> of a
> wonderful book by evangelical author and professor Mark Noll --
> isn't that
> evangelicals aren't smart or don't love ideas. They are, and they
> do. No,
> the real scandal is the lack of tough, hard questioning to test
> those
> ideas. Christians believe in a God-Man who called himself (among
> other
> things) "the Truth." Truth-seeking, testing beliefs with tough-
> minded
> questions and arguments, is a deeply Christian enterprise.
> Evangelical
> churches should be swimming in it. Too few are.
>
> For their part, universities would be better, richer places if
> they had an
> infusion of the humility that one finds in those churches. Too
> often, the
> world of top universities is defined by its arrogance: the style
> of
> argument is more "it's plainly true that" than "I wonder whether."
> We like
> to test our ideas, but once they've passed the relevant academic
> hurdles
> (the bar is lower than we like to think), we talk and act as
> though those
> ideas are not just right but obviously right -- only a fool or a
> bigot
> could think otherwise.
>
> The atmosphere I've found in the churches to which my family and I
> have
> belonged is very different. Evangelicals like "testimonies"; it's
> common
> for talks to Christian groups to begin with a little
> autobiography, as the
> speaker describes the path he has traveled on his road to faith.
> Somewhere
> in the course of that testimony, the speaker always talks about
> what a
> mess he is: how many things he has gotten wrong, why the people
> sitting in
> the chairs should really be teaching him, not the other way
> around. This
> isn't a pose; the evangelicals I know really do believe that they -
> - we
> (I'm in this camp too) -- are half-blind fools, stumbling our way
> toward
> truth, regularly falling off the right path and, by God's grace,
> picking
> ourselves up and trying to get back on. But while humility is more
> a
> virtue than a tactic, it turns out to be a pretty good tactic.
> Ideas and
> arguments go down a lot easier when accompanied by the admission
> that the
> speaker might, after all, be wrong.
>
> That gets to an aspect of evangelical culture that the mainstream
> press
> has never understood: the combination of strong faith commitments
> with
> uncertainty, the awareness that I don't know everything, that I
> have a lot
> more to learn than to teach. Belief that a good God has a plan
> does not
> imply knowledge of the plan's details. Judging from the lives and
> conversations of my Christian friends, faith in that God does not
> tend to
> produce a belief in one's infallibility. More the opposite:
> Christians
> believe we see "through a glass, darkly" when we see at all -- and
> that
> we're constantly tempted to imagine ourselves as better and
> smarter than
> we really are. If that sensibility were a little more common in
> universities, faculty meetings would be a lot more pleasant. And
> it should
> be more common: Academics know better than anyone just how vast is
> the
> pool of human knowledge, and how little of it any of us can grasp.
> Talking
> humbly should be second nature.
>
> There is even a measure of political common ground. True,
> university
> faculties are heavily Democratic, and evangelical churches are
> thick with
> Republicans. But that red-blue polarization is mostly a
> consequence of
> which issues are on the table -- and which ones aren't. Change the
> issue
> menu, and those electoral maps may look very different. Imagine a
> presidential campaign in which the two candidates seriously
> debated how a
> loving society should treat its poorest members. Helping the poor
> is
> supposed to be the left's central commitment, going back to the
> days of
> FDR and the New Deal. In practice, the commitment has all but
> disappeared
> from national politics. Judging by the speeches of liberal
> Democratic
> politicians, what poor people need most is free abortions. Anti-
> poverty
> programs tend to help middle-class government employees; the poor
> end up
> with a few scraps from the table. Teachers' unions have a
> stranglehold on
> failed urban school systems, even though fixing those schools
> would be the
> best anti-poverty program imaginable.
>
> I don't think my liberal Democratic professor friends like this
> state of
> affairs. And -- here's a news flash -- neither do most
> evangelicals, who
> regard helping the poor as both a passion and a spiritual
> obligation, not
> just a political preference. (This may be even more true of
> theologically
> conservative Catholics.) These men and women vote Republican not
> because
> they like the party's policy toward poverty -- cut taxes and hope
> for the
> best -- but because poverty isn't on the table anymore. In
> evangelical
> churches, elections are mostly about abortion. Neither party seems
> much
> concerned with giving a hand to those who most need it.
>
> That could change. I can't prove it, but I think there is a large,
> latent
> pro-redistribution evangelical vote, ready to get behind the first
> politician to tap into it. (Barack Obama, are you listening?) If
> liberal
> Democratic academics believe the things they say they believe --
> and I
> think they do -- there is an alliance here just waiting to happen.
>
> Humility, love of serious ideas, commitment to helping the poor --
> these
> are things my faculty friends and my church friends ought to be
> able to
> get together on. If they ever do, look out: American politics, and
> maybe
> American life, will be turned upside down. And all those
> politicians who
> can only speak in one color will be out of a job.
>
> I can hardly wait.
>
> William J. Stuntz is a Professor at Harvard Law School.
>
>
> --
> http://ai.eecs.umich.edu/people/dreeves - - google://"Daniel Reeves"
>
> Q. How do you tell an extrovert computer scientist?
> A. When they talk to you they look at your shoes rather than their
> own.
>
>
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