Tuesday, April 15, 2014

The 'Confucian Model' of Developing Society


The third type of a moral or civilizational strategy I call the Confucian model. This Confucian model is not a dual model, as is the Brahman model. The Confucian model calls for only one elite, and an informal one at that. This elite is one of gentlemen, and what makes a gentleman is a state of mind, a noble state of mind. In the Brahmanic model, people who have clean hands absolve and guide those who have dirtier hands. A Confucian model places both ruler and ruled in civilized roles.
Confucius tried to improve society by developing and codifying civilized roles and role patterns. The main role is that of the gentleman, Khun-Tzu, the noble man, at home in the world, although he knows that the world is quite barbaric. He is a good host to his fellow humans. His main virtue is Jen: gentleness, humanity. A ‘nobleman’ is someone who cares, someone of ‘good will’, someone who thinks that trying to lead a good life makes a difference. A ‘common man’ in this sense is someone who lacks this conviction or this feeling, even without being of ill will. A ‘common man’ regards all this attention to gentleness and humanity as unimportant or even an illusion.
Confucius suggests to us how we may become noble. He gives precepts for how to behave like a noble person. Some precepts, such as the principle of the golden mean, are similar to the precepts of Aristotle. A noble person is neither cowardly nor rash, neither avaricious nor wasteful. A noble person strikes a balance between two extremes. A Confucian strategy gives responsible people a feasible model that fosters the ennoblement of the community and its citizens.
An excellent introduction to Confucianism is in Huston Smith’s The Religions of Man. One quotation:

‘Goodness, the gentleman, propriety, government by virtue, and the arts of peace - such were the values to which Confucius had given his heart. His entire life was lived under their spell. They then, together, were to comprise the content of deliberate tradition. Held before the individual from birth to death, they would furnish that ‘habitual vision of greatness’ which Whitehead has called the essence of all true education.’

Confucius formulated doctrines about right relationships between people, e.g., the right relationship between man and woman. His ideas on this subject are nearer to those of St. Paul than to those of modern feminists, but of course the content of such precepts is bound by time and culture. When Mohammed prescribed four wives as the maximum, he was only improving dramatically on existing conditions. For us here, the content of Confucius’ precepts is not important. Today he might have formulated the right behavior for people ‘living apart together’, the right relations between a homosexual minority and a heterosexual majority, the right approach to illegal immigrants, and so on.
Confucius showed the possibility of practical and efficient social systems and government, systems not based on egotism and exploitation, and being neither crude nor cruel. Aristotle held similar ideas. He compared a statesman who produces an orderly society to a potter who produces a good pot.
A basic consideration of Confucius, again as with Aristotle, is the relationship between rights and duties, between privileged positions and social responsibilities. Here too, Confucius believed that a balance should exist. Confucius strove for a society that would exist somewhere between tyrannical order and anarchistic chaos or, in Schiller’s terms, between Barbarei and Wildheit. Confucius wanted order, but he wanted it to be a human order. His is the saying: ‘A tyrannical regime is worse than a devouring tiger’. Charles Darwin wrote that the Chinese civilization is more of a model than any of the other world civilizations.
A Confucian strategy designs a social architecture of institutions and role patterns and gives these institutions and role patterns cultural or even spiritual significance. It humanizes by making roles and institutions more humane, and making them vessels of self-respect. The traditional sectors of our own society are already familiar with such ideas as ‘good government’, ‘a good housefather’, ‘good seamanship’ and ‘good business practice’. These ideas are part of the Confucian world of responsible, prudent people who consider one another not as individuals, but as good citizens who care about quality and civilization.
Confucian models imply stable relationships. Predictability is both a benefit and a cost in systems that strive for structural harmony. Because the Chinese state became strongly bureaucratic over the centuries, Confucianism became associated with bureaucracy. But the Confucian model is not bureaucratic.
Dutch sailing regulations include the statement that the captain of a ship has to do everything according to good seamanship, even in unregulated situations, even if good seamanship were to contradict these regulations. In the same sense, it is legitimate in war to do some illegitimate things. According to some, the same holds in love - hardly a Confucian activity since the eighteenth century.
The Confucian approach to good government is also relevant for large organizations: a good employee policy, a good organizational structure, systematic attention to quality, and the fostering of self-respect and mutual respect. We find satisfaction in making things go well, in getting things done well. Everyone is saturated with norms and values. The street cleaner, the film director, and the attendant in the ticket window, all have their codes of honor and self-respect. For small organizations and temporary work settings the Confucian approach is less relevant, because particular circumstances, personal peculiarities and personal relations play a larger role.
A Confucian approach to civilization, of course, is not limited to Confucius. I have already mentioned Aristotle. The classic Romans knew humanitas: tenderness, tact, openness for people and for circumstances, a sense of joy and festivity. The Middle Ages maintained the idea of chivalry. In all these cases male values were tempered by female values, without abandoning the male values. The Provençal troubadours were the priests of this new doctrine of knights: strong, reliable, noble men, ‘leaders of men in war and peace’, courting noble women.
Interestingly, medieval lore acknowledges, be it reluctantly, that even base people and scoundrels may be loftily disposed. So we may include Robin Hood and - never forget - Maid Marian, as our role models.
If ever we forget history, future psychologists will explain Richard Lionheart and Eleanor of Aquitania and their ilk as archetypes within the human soul. These psychologists would be only half wrong. Maybe all that would remain of this lore would then be Sir Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe, possibly in the guise of Roger Moore.
The humanists of the early sixteenth century rediscovered not only dusty books, but also the spirit within those books - the classical civilization. From the French humanists came the idea of the honnête homme, the honest man, and then the gentilhomme, the gentleman. This man was strong, decisive, not to be fooled around with, robust, able to stand the barbarians around him, while correct, reasonable, caring, and cultured.
In each case, the essence boils down to the same: a friendly, caring, civilized but strong and competent host to others, in an unfriendly, barbaric and dangerous world. Still, the gentleman feels at home in the world, and makes others feel at home as well. In this sense the Confucian world, with all its deference to religion, is more humanistic than religious. It judges religion for what religion does here, how it makes people at home here. Machiavelli would say that a good religion entails good institutions, good institutions entail good habits, and good habits lead to prosperity and success in all things.

From: The Ten Global Challenges: How People Make the World. An Essay on Politics, Civilization and Humanity. Ordering the book

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

The 'Brahmanic' Model of Developing Society


The second moral approach to civilization building is the creation of a moral elite. I call this approach the Brahmanic model, because in Hinduism this approach is conspicuous. The basic idea is that civilization is rather barbaric and so, to preserve some order, we may need barbaric interventions. In the Hinduist system the warriors, who form the second highest caste, take care of such barbaric interventions. The soldiering caste involves itself in law and order, in war and peace, in all the trappings of power and the use of force. The Brahmans abstain from all such activity. Brahmans are the people with clean hands who play a spiritual, civilizing role vis-à-vis the soldier caste.
Many cultures distinguish between a priest class and a soldier class, not necessarily by heredity. In those cultures, certain people do the dirty work that needs to be done, and a privileged group stays clean and has no operational responsibilities. The dirty ones go to the clean ones for education, enlightenment, absolution, or blessing, whenever they feel the need or whenever they are expected to do so.
In business enterprises the head of quality assurance has no line responsibilities but can influence production figures dramatically. In the same vein, it is difficult for a production manager to be under pressure to meet production goals and deadlines and still be all out for quality. So he may go all out for production while the quality assurance manager incorporates his quality conscience, just as Jiminy served as the external conscience of Pinocchio. The presence of a quality assurance manager means that someone has been set aside from the immediate heat and pressure to stay aware of less tangible or less immediate goals. Peter Drucker calls those the ‘conscience functions’ in organizations.
This model is all right as far as it goes, but some weak spots are inherent in this Brahmanic solution. Between the two groups, the operational elite and the moral or spiritual elite, all kinds of irritations arise quite easily. The power of the priests is subtle, while the power of the soldiers is not. Priests may easily fall short of real influence, because they may simply not be up to it. Soldiers may manipulate weak priests; strong priests may manipulate weak soldiers. The main danger is that priests may become involved in power politics. The theme of a corrupt and oppressing priesthood and an ambivalent warrior group permeates science fiction. Usually the men of action have to clean up the mess of false pretense and vicious manipulation. Revolt against a powerful priesthood is an old and prototypical tale.
Our time has its own priesthoods. Iran is an easy example. Other examples have been with us longer. The Red Army had its political commissars, who had no power of military command but who could influence the commanders. These political commissars had to ensure the orthodoxy of the soldiers, and especially the officers. Orthodoxy in this case equated to loyalty to the party. This example is that of a Brahmanic type of organization, though a perverted one. I do not mean that political commissars are mean or unreliable or perverted. The perversion lies in the system, as in the USSR the priests had all the power. The people who were involved in exerting force were the same as the ones who were involved with shaping minds.
Although the Brahmanic model carries its risks, it still offers a sane approach to civilization. In principle, the best people lead. The old Greeks called this ‘aristocracy’, the rule by ‘the best’. And they meant just that, without assuming that excellence is hereditary.
The privileges of the Brahman or aristocrat are, again in principle, compensated by duties, by noblesse oblige. Or, to turn around the old Roman saying: Quod licet bovi, non licet Iovi. Priests have to accept that they have no executive power, and must realize that other people are pulling the chestnuts out of the fire. This fact restrains their self-exaltation, while it provides a source of self-respect for the soldiers. Priests are special and should be revered, but soldiers guard civilization because they follow the priests of their own accord.
Finally, priests and soldiers are countervailing powers, and so there is negotiation, a kind of market. Priests may denounce soldiers and soldiers may denounce priests, and both have strong, but different sanctions. It is no wonder that the big seduction is to make the whole setup into a total institution. How marvelous it would be to get rid of all ambivalence and balancing acts, all restraints, all insecurities! Such an institution would be the utmost in administrative convenience: monolithic power over both bodies and minds. George Orwell’s 1984 is not threatening merely because it describes a situation that may happen in some future, but because it has happened so often already. It has happened in states that controlled and prescribed thoughts and actions. Doublethink is always around whenever an amalgam of priests and soldiers is present.
The seduction of an integration of executive and moral responsibility is so strong that it is almost a trademark of utopias, from Plato onward. Plato’s Guardians are prototypes; they are both wise and strong. If we want both power and wisdom, it is always good to have some counterbalance between the two.
The Prussian Army invented the Chiefs of Staff, experienced high officers with brilliant minds, to devise and assure the strategy of war, but without operational authority. Each Army corps had a representative for ‘strategic quality assurance’. In a sense these Chiefs of Staff were Brahmans, but their role was not perverted. They were priest-type soldiers, without spiritual (here political) ambitions and influence. Remember, we are still describing roles, not individuals. Political control belongs to the role of the Red Army commissar, not to the role of the representative of the Prussian Generalstab.
Something of a political quality assurance role has been emerging in our society. This role is called policy analysis. A book from Aaron Wildavsky about this subject bears the telling title: Speaking Truth to Power. I like to think of this ‘speaking truth’ as another aspect of civilization - less dependence on lies.
Western civilization has opted for mental anarchy, which manifests itself in religious tolerance, freedom of speech and freedom of the press. We have instituted in our judicial system the power of sanction on immorality, and we have made that system to some extent independent from the main political power systems. For the rest, our Western civilization seems less congenial to the Brahmanic model. Since the days of a dual medieval system of Pope and Emperor, dualism has not been especially strong. Ours is rather the solution of Protestantism: everybody his own priest. We even use Protestantism in our factories. Quality circles are the Protestantism of quality assurance in business.
This second approach, the Brahmanic option, is around wherever there are ‘conscience functions’ of one kind or another. Make your own examples. More conscience functions, better conscience functions, a better balance between conscience functions and executive functions, will all contribute to a more civilized society.

 From Chapter 2 in Humanity, Civilization and Politics - e-book at www.onlineorginals.com