March 25, 2007

The Reverend Kathleen Damewood Korb
Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Greater Naples

METHOD, PROCESS. WHATEVER

The presidential election of 2008 began some months ago. It seems to begin earlier and earlier every time, and the primary system (which is also getting earlier and earlier) though its theory is to bring the choice of nominees to the electorate seems to give us less and less real choice. By the time I was able to vote in a primary last time, all my preferred candidates had been eliminated. I was dreading it anyway, expecting it to be more mean-spirited than most, and becoming downright depressing. In order to distract my mind, I have been thinking a bit about the religious theory of democracy.

One of the principles of the Unitarian Universalist Association affirms and promotes (approximately; I haven't memorized it) the right of conscience and the use of the democratic process in our congregations and in the wider society. Although it has been so long since the last revision that some of our newer members and even some of our newer ministers think that these are the first principles that we have ever written down, in fact, there have always been principles, bonds of union, things commonly agreed among us, covenants, or whatever we have called them in their particular era, whenever Unitarians and Universalists have attempted to organize themselves. This latest version actually falls not far from the tree on which it was grown, and the precursor of this principle talked about the democratic method rather than the process. As I remember it, there was quite a little discussion, sometimes heated, about whether the term process or method was better for what the Association as organized wanted to affirm and promote. I suspect, given the atmosphere of those discussions, that the reason the term process was chosen over method was that it seemed a bit looser. The democratic method had an aura of Robert's Rules of Order, strict majority rule - perhaps even majority tyranny. It was when linear and hierarchical were the worst possible words and the idea of consensus was in its heyday. Since then some people have noted a strong possibility of tyranny in the pressure to reach consensus, but that's another issue. What it occurred to none of us to question, and on reflection that seems a little odd to me, was whether a particular style of social governance, be it process or method, should be elevated to a religious principle.

I have never been involved in the inner workings of any other faith. I don't even know if they have bylaws - much less what they might contain. Nevertheless, it seems to me probably peculiar to us that we would consider democracy so important that we would place it in our principles of association. Let me say now that I think that we were right, that it was unquestioned because it was so much a given of who we are and were that it never occurred to any of us that however clear we might be that church and state should be kept separate, the democratic process is so important that we need commend it not only to ourselves but to society at large.

The same forces that created the United States and its constitution created our religion. They were born at almost the same time, and the values of one were the values of the other. Both of us were children of the Enlightenment, shaped by the thinkers of France and the Scottish philosophers. We believed in freedom, in individual rights, and in the right of everyone to have an equal voice in the way in which we were governed. Of course, that's developed a great deal since then. In those days it was only men of property who should have such voice, but the idea of equality has been extended over and over again, and few of us now are legally kept from having a say in what our laws and who our lawmakers will be. I do not know of another way for free people to be governed, if they do not govern themselves. Ours is the institutionalization of free religion, and I think that we are right to include as one of our principles, the democratic process, both for ourselves and for society. (Actually, I have a nostalgic yearning toward method, myself, but process is good enough if it is tied to democracy.)

My fear is that it is not. I believe that we are becoming less and less democratic in every one of our associations, not because of some enemy to freedom, but through our own indifference. It is said that the price of liberty is eternal vigilance. That is also the price of the institutions that free people establish to keep them free, yet most of us - most of us - cannot be bothered even to vote.

Each time I go to the polls at election time, when I have cast my vote one of the poll workers thanks me as I leave. The thanks are not pro forma, but deeply sincere, and every time I am distressed by it. It is always nice to be thanked, of course, but no thanks should be considered necessary for the performance of this basic duty of citizenship. They, of course, should be thanked for their willingness to give up their whole day to enable us to vote. They are paid some pittance, I believe, as those who are called to jury duty are, but theirs is a much greater commitment than mine who merely go to cast the vote that is the price and privilege of my freedom. I often protest against the thanks, but they remind me that I am one of very few who feel that sense of obligation.

I don't think that there is any question that our founders were inspired when they set up our form of government. There are other forms of democracy than ours, of course, and it may be true that it has become almost more cumbersome than we can handle, and yet, if we consider it in its ideal form, I cannot think of a better way. Committed to freedom and to individual rights, aware of the possibility of a tyranny of the majority, aware, too, that most citizens have neither time nor ability to examine and debate the great issues of government, they set up this republic. The representatives for whom the citizens would vote would be the best and brightest, people who were willing to tackle the difficult questions, thrash them out and come to a decision - a decision that might have to be a compromise, but one that would be considered, careful, and consonant with our ideals. People would know the candidates for office and would pick the ones with most integrity, intelligence and dedication, trusting them to do the best they could with the issues confronting them. They could not have envisioned the huge growth of our nation, the increasing distance between candidates and their constituencies, and the invention of media which, while creating an illusion of intimacy, set greater distances between us. As we grow further from our leaders, we view our government and politicians with suspicion, distrust and even disdain. And our indifference grows. What kind of turnout do you expect at the next presidential election? What tiny percentage of eligible voters will actually select the leader of the most powerful country in the world? It's scary!

As we become more indifferent we also become less competent to make the decisions that it is so necessary that we make. We allow ourselves to be swayed by looks and charm (so did we always, but we were better able to see beneath the surface when we could know candidates better). I am still amazed when I remember the polls that indicated that the majority of the people disagreed with most of Ronald Reagan's political positions, but they voted for him anyway. If they had voted for him because, in spite of their disagreements, they thought that he was more likely to be right than they because of special knowledge and talent, I could not argue. But that wasn't it at all. Since he never affected me in a positive manner it is hard for me to understand his attraction for so many people when it was neither his positions nor his competence that appealed to them, but that is only one of the ways in which we have abandoned our ideals of good government, and only one of the many people who have achieved an unwarranted power because of our indifference to democracy.

As we become more and more indifferent and vote less and less, paradoxically our leaders are leaving more and more decision-making to us as we become less interested in those decisions. They govern, not by conviction, but by poll. Whatever the majority says it wants, whatever its level of understanding, is what they intend to give us, with an eye on the next election. They are as indifferent as the citizens to anything except their own success. What is right, what is prudent, what is just, even what is legal is a matter of unimportance as long as they satisfy the majority, even counting it a virtue in their ignorance, shared with their constituency, of the real purpose of representative government. One candidate for president some years ago even suggested that with the advances in electronic communication people could simply vote directly on the issues, thus obviating the need for any representatives at all.

This tendency is seen in the rise of the phenomenon of initiatives and demand for referenda on the state and local level, but besides showing the lack of trust citizens have in their governments, it too often also shows their profound indifference to and ignorance of the founding ideals of our nation. Too often those initiatives are designed to limit others' freedom, to dismantle structures of justice that have been raised, to show how little we care for the well-being of anyone other than ourselves, and how little we understand of the obligations of freedom.

Our indifference to the public schools is another part of the picture. When they were founded, the most telling argument for paying for universal education was that a democracy required an educated citizenry, educated not only in the basic disciplines but in the requirements of citizenship. There is, almost unbelievably to me, a rise among self-styled liberals in home schooling. Instead of working to make the public schools the cradle of liberty, they are instead withdrawing, indifferent to the good of their country, and concerned only with the well-being of their own family. A few years ago at General Assembly when we Unitarian Universalists had a choice of reaffirming our commitment to public, universal education and committing ourselves to its improvement for the good of all our citizens, we instead chose to urge everyone to "voluntary simplicity." We, too, are indifferent to the public weal in our self-absorption. I have seen people there whom I know to be intelligent and well-intentioned vote carelessly, simply to get the meetings over with so they can do something more interesting. No matter how important the issue, there has only been one extension of debate in those meetings for at least seven years. People vote, our people, not because they're convinced, but because they're tired to talking about it. They have better things to do.

It is often true even in our local congregations, or if it is not, we certainly act as if it is, setting our quorum requirements ridiculously low for fear not enough people are interested in the well-being of their own church - this place which feeds the spirit and helps us find the meaning of our lives. We keep the agenda as short as possible, being convinced that if we actually have the nerve to ask anyone to discuss an issue of substance they'll all get up and leave. Even such an important matter as calling a new minister can only attract a little more than half of the membership of most of our churches. The founders of our free churches were also the founders of our nation. Shall we be leaders also in being too busy, too uninformed, too self-absorbed, to continue its ideals?

Yet democracy is a religious principle for us - not because it is one of the list of principles of the bylaws of our Association, since such principles are not binding on an autonomous congregation - but because we are an institution of religious freedom. We have an obligation greater even than that of others to maintain the structures of freedom, the process of democracy. We have an obligation even to suffer a little boredom for the sake of freedom. We need to grasp every opportunity to exercise our right to vote, from a congregational meeting to the election of a president. We must become as informed ourselves as we can, and we must support those institutions which enable the freedom that defines us.