Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Habits of The Heart
Habits of The Heart
i" Ut"inesses o' o" f"*ity-owned Freedom is perhaps the most resonant, deeply held American value. In
towns and worked '-"tt
; ;;",. " l:: :::ffi m* i{*n : i'J#'.:::'il some ways, it defines the good in both personal and political life. Yet
freedom turns out to meen being left alone by others, not having other
i:i,i;iii'i'::i:;liid.---ti'i:::::;',1;;:'*
nl and public-spirited
citizen' the
a
people's values, ideas, or styles of life forced upon one, being free of
arbitrary authority in work, family, and political life. Vhat it is that one
being
tation for ,""u'tlti'
a ofone's
t"t i"'"""'"Jit'e c"ue"tiotts
meanings of *hi"n *ut of the way m might do with that freedom is much more diffcult for Americans to
t"ot Corman's story' we'can see a relic define. And if the entire social world is made up of individuals, each
local commu"ity' i" "4' jo r"ight have encouraged endowed with the right to be free ofothers' demands, it becomes hard to
which the requirernJ;;" life it titn conventional
of one's 'ht forge bonds of attachment to, or cooperation with, other people, since
one to defne "to'-""tt
'ftt 'ott""
*"#:f :'ryii"'."ic.."r1l:i::::J-,,'ii;l'.:*" such bonds would imply obligations that necessarily impinge on one's
freedom. Thus Margaret Oldham, for example, sets great store on be-
or private bu-
us work in large public
t"#;^;;t-of coming an autonomous person, responsible for her own life, and she
nesses in small up th: hierarchy
work means'o """"tt recognizes that other people, like herself, are free to have their own val-
a
reaucracies' To be
'tt"* "'
of suchcorpo"ti""'vt"1p':c'1"*'::ffiu*'""-t"t1fl ?ll|'i
ues and to lead their lives the way they choose. But then, by the same
related'o token, ifshe doesn t like what they do or the way they live, her only right
;,httiind o " 1"t:
f succe ss ;;"f""'
national manufacturtng
;.o.J ^t::"i*;;i
a large
ot';nnJ;;;kt fort*"ioin"tily is the right to walk away. In some sense, for her, freedom to be left alone
in tife? EvenJoe active part in his
corporation; ""a nt'tJ
pt"y :tl'tT man for his
is a freedom that implies being alone.
btt""t i'iJ*i'nnisjS! For Margaret, as for others influenced by modern psychological ideals,
community
:;,"d .* i:rru;if;iy
factory
"' "lttutit
;**;
"latiotts
i"'J::?i?l:
:)t*^ ::':.:i'],-""*."-,inallv sood promotion to
away f 19m
to be free is not simply to be left alone by others; it is also somehow to be
your own person in the sense that you have defined who you are, decided
for yourself what you want out of life, free as much as possible from the
kl*1;*;11;ft .i:,:i#:'J::?Jifuit*ff ::'; clemands ofconformity to family, friends, or community. From this point
ot view, to be free psychologically is to succeed in separating oneselffrom
requirements of
,"."".ifhg the
economl(
ni**.i'"'ffi
to"'*un'l'''l'r'" ?'*11lf"
r::*;l;;-'l'""*"'l'-:urdnsor
himself is therefore likely
to
shaping Justice
"-iutn ."i,*,,.l',i.;;;;ot"g:'l:',i:tilli:i
b..om. uot
or each
more' it is the freedomJoe believe what he
wants'
wants' Our American traditions encourage us to think ofjustice as a matter of
oerson to ti"' *nJi"il';;;;;*h.i:^1" circumstances-
d"';; t'" t"t to imSro-ve his material equal opportunities for every individual to pursue whatever he or she
and, certainly' freedom of free enterprlse understands by happiness. Equal opportunities are guaranteed by fair
makes t"--i;i;"* tl"g-:rt' residents are at-
that to which the laws and political procedures-laws and procedures applied in the same
communty'The
rnakes Suffolk
''Uta'o-
by; i'i""''.*r'it ttoto*it opportunities tempt way to everyone. But this way of thinking aboutjustice does not in itself
tached mainly tt't itl "f freedom Joe contain a vision ofwhat the distribution of goods in a society would end
most ofit' ""1"'^t a*gt"t" '*"*even to discuss the questlon up looking like if individuals had an equal chance ro pursue their inter-
Gorman h.ld,;.";;^;;;:.'diffrcult,o.i; *igh, u." be developed in
jur, .o;;'";; gooa
or how ,
26 Habits oJtheHeatt
Culture and Character: 2
T.'};,""l,','"'J,:,ir,,::ii"f:'{;J* The Histot ical Conuersation
::"
ffl::',i'i:i ;irix *ru{*
iT: :m;
j:il *:fl'#iiT:i':: i i ; 'ii' i""''lhev re
*i#,,:::::"'; a
socially disadvantageo
TJil,Ti;[n'm"lll!q,t^"g;fJ,*:Til:Ji:il:'i.";
r..r' bot *" h""' Nor have we
I
:'li,1,:'iiffi,.'*"t'*
I
1
H:3;fl ,';1,il:i:;::;i';;;;,"::y-j,*ii"'lJi:Jifi
*ii
L
l'.r.irr"*.weneedtoreach:"'T::^:1i.i;;;;"..'-wh11hlt
1
L
,*"1'.,il.;'"rt'::;.:;:li: j::ij*i:i:t*;H:fl.::. To an American reader, the individualism that pervades the four lives
o"'
:: ,offi ffii"'"i il"i":". "1,,; us- described in chapter r may at first glance seem not to have anything to
j
as abour procedurai
1,
do with cultural tradition, but simply to express the way things are. Yet
n':'ff :'iJjTuoo.',,,*" when we look more closely, we see that there are subtle differences
i:i:i**:lt*:;:ffi radical t"* t: *1T. "H.;;;"ted
because in among our four characters. There are different modes even within the
Evena self-stvled "ffi
jill: vocabularies of each individual. Brian Palmer, for example, was at one
time in his life single-mindedly devoted to career success, sacrificing
B:'lllilifut4ruFi:':1"'r.:Ttritttj"l:
"i;*.r:'*'ri:f l*' 1l
I'i:*t#mf$ffi
h""
everything to attainment of that goal. Later, he came to value quite di
ferent things-classical music, books, relationships, the immediate en-
joyment of life-and left behind his total devotion to career. Both these
:T"il'ili' *ilt'-i"di"idua$'
with what kind ot
d:
irJ"rsocietv'
ants should t'v
t""tto
after all, not enough
once thev hiL::;.'Ai'"i" to accom-
land near the t"":: 1i
,:;. it . ,,t"tt"nisms
want t"lt"t-i:t:
of the
modes are individualistic, but they are rooted in different traditions and
have different implications. We propose to call the former mode "utili-
tarian individualism" and the latter "expressive individualism."Joe Gor-
t
would like Santa man and Wayne Bauer combine their individualism with somewhat di
who *. t" places should
modare everyone
free market are not
;"*
to determin: llt-i:;d.t;r;*: in sho.rt, liber-
that determi"it""ij;;o'"' bv
ferent languages ofcivic responsibility. Margaret Oldham holds a more
sharply formulated version of Brian's individualism.
t
M;;;' should
distributed in'h't ttl..''u ""'" such These differences derive from a historical past of which none of our
,;;;:;;;tces be would just societv-:;il|;;;-[;out
a
look like? To answer
fair proce- characters is entirely aware. In our forward-facing society, however, we
li.,""""t Vhatwouldhavl1o d:'T:-'ltt"d*i' the
to. exer:.: are more apt to talk about the future than the past and to imagine that the
questions' Vayn-e
to lit"
;;;t;; sr'uta be created slve TiJ;;f "Utfity-
of substantive differences between us derive largely from a conflict ofcurrent interests.
""" t .," his cur,urar Yet even in the debate about our future, our cultural tradition, in its sev-
;;; ;
:Tl:,:,1il:"T,'.iiil:;
goals, sotne way tu Lrt'r -"--- nct ot rrs
u,
eral strands, is still very much present, and our conversation would
us' probably be more to the point if we were aware ofthat fact.
?;;;;t failhim' as thev do most ^f shaped our languas
e and our
'we now So long as it is vital, the cultural tradition of a people-its symbols,
'"* '";;'"iii"""h::L"*our present predicament' ideals, and ways offeeling-is always an argument about the meaning of
lives for *t'""n$;;;11;;"bout the destiny its members share.l Cultures are dramatic conversations
about things that matter to their participants, and American culture is
no exception. From its early days, some Americans have seen the pur-
tr
Culture and Character 29
i:ilJ";:.Iiii*"i'.i:r"ik*r*;::ffi ;i-ff ffi ; son. Thus, he said to his friends, did he effectively cure the man from
stealing.s
determrr
victions, Mod'l ofchristian
h th'';,;;LA The freemen of Massachusetts did not always appreciate lVinthrop's
just before
those of like b""d ';;'i;"* L1'1"' leniency, for it made it seem that there was no law but the governor's
"lisi;;::;;ii*""'
*hi'h ;'"i;;;J;l
charitv," will. He was voted out of office and quietly served in minor posts for
r'"ai"g*"'"'#.:i::*;'iri*J:;*:*'*''ii
u"' we must delight
several years before being recalled to leadership. Petty leaders in far-
l'r' I A J;;;;'
Puritans n
fellow i" " flung colonial outposts have not always taken demotion with such equa-
for one und""'ffi '*i'i
mourn
rejoyce together' nimity. V/inthrop accepted the procedural principles ofselgovernment
in each *ii't"" "uio"' ou'-o*"'
otnt'' having our eyes otlr before enough to temper his own preference for magnanimous, if personal,
I l'bt' ;;; ; iogttht'' b'd;'"
tosether, ''*"* The Puritans were not
unrn- substantivejustice.6 lfour "whole destiny" is not quite contained in Win-
tf ;;;;;;rin '"-' unfortu-
,na *.pron *nt"
.Jm*u"itv " it came'
- r ir, ,rr.r. frosperity
teresred
{
Culture anil Character 3 r
in:*'"*il:il-*'ffi
;; *,h. * "', ut;ii**;i$j,l,ittf,ff
I
acting member of the Common government, transacting in person a
great portion of its rights and duties, subordinate indeed, yet important,
r:l5* and entirely within his own competence."lo Such small republics would
'"'.,Lt#:iJJ':,itll;;;riiscountrv.':*Ji:'.*J:,:.'ff;*,
',:;;;ii^::t*:*ilnm;Ul:l'T?,'"'."::iffi .* help to guarantee the health ofthe large one. In such a society, Jefferson's
injunction "Love your neighbor as yourself,, and your country more than
later, frst
and. Presrc
yourself" could have an immediate meaning to the citizens. ButJeffer-
Harvardcollege,Joh;^d;;;*"'*'n*;:ffi 3::::t-':; son feared that "our rulers will become corrupt, our people careless." If
Til.im'*:::'"#ff lii"i"";i:lil*,1',;m::- people forgot themselves "in the sole faculty of making money," he said,
(r743-ra10)' tto - the future ofthe republic was bleak and tyranny would not be far away.11
ThomasJefferson
rv cause. " Like Y/inthrop, Jefferson left office much poorer than he entered it and
ilr;;; il; 4ilii.xi*ir; l*nnm;,::::,: ' faced bankruptcy in his later years.
f artic^ularly' P P.:ol::"* r .t. r, J-*t'te rn-Vir gini
-^"" Freedom was not so tightly tied to substantive morality forJefferson
Iefferson came rl
the plante ^'.'. -
active part
co[ege, he early rook an as it had been for V/inthrop. Indeed,Jefferson's first freedom, freedom of
nrid.rrti.g rr"- ^'"i"'v
wirra'vr"ry
religion, aimed at ensuring that people like Winthrop would not have
,, tt . p oi iti"' r'h'i'J;;i' lt;,;: $Ji'-'''Tt"t:;
i"r"",t'" Declaration of
lndepende"'!; ":n
to his
" TlJiil#;;-i'-""
lifelong commll
legal power to force their views on others. In general, Jefferson favored
freedom of the person from arbitrary state action and freedom of the
are created equal"
g'u" t''at'i"g expre'ssion
press from any form of censorship. Yet he also believed that the best
equality' No
toequality'tntt'o't"ttitt"'t'"tt'"t"ueingsreequalinall
sv tq""t"tylt'*"i
t;"; r"""*;;tily politicalanother man to defense offreedom was an educated people actively participating in gov-
resects.
*r' t're on his "it rot of ernment. The notion of a formal freedom that would simply allow peo-
**, r,. believed' '
much he
on the practical issue
ple to do what they pleased-for example, solely to make money-was
ride. Therefo'"' rto*l"i '"-po'J" as unpalatable toJefferson as it had been to V/inthrop. Flowever impor-
.man.ipatio",J.rr;,;;;igo'o"'lv'n.'^',t"TifitJ'r',p"liltimes tant formal freedom was to either of them, freedom only took on its real
meaning in a certain kind of society with a certain form of life. Without
-in::li**lt'""-;i};x}#ilr.:::t!,li""'.
in believing that tt Political equality
that, Jefferson saw freedom as quickly destroying itselfand eventuating
i"' i' *t'*ive' in tyranny.l2
where relativtl,
'"": 'ri"* 'oi Listing the essential principles of government in his frst inaugural
canonlyuttntttiul'it^'piut-ryherethltiii"tt"actuallyparticipate' address, Jefferson began with: "Equal and exact justice to all men, of
"rhefurther'h';n",t''"'r'"*1:::i:"t*f t':*:T:3;li whatever state or persuasion, religious or political." While he certainly
believed in the proceduraljustice ofour legal system, he could not forget
'#il#'::i:111ii"ii:"t"'r'erative'd"li
ttittnt"Jtt all
his tife' In compartson that there is a higher justice that sits in judgment over human justice:
which ttt p"ttitipt'lit" *t'
rn
in the United States
to Europe, t" tt'"tgf"
tii' it't ""li""ble
"the laws of nature and of nature's God." In considering the continued
existence of slavery, Jefferson wrote, "Indeed I tremble for my country
i",eqn"i,u..11,Liif Tiff
tew r
','tri;Uii*:*nf.'"".:: when I reflect that God isjust; that hisjustice cannot sleep forever." The
vided into a
profound contradiction of a people fghting for its freedom while sub-
son'sidealwas'ht"t'ld;'Jd"";;'-**t,:"ri*;;f;ii5;
in the jecting another to slavery was not lost onJefferson and gave rise to anxi-
thty"*i:i11i;;
ir, il-"g and participate
would bring great ""riri.'
inequalitie orclass
ety for our future if this contradiction were not solved.13
he feared p'"tittfv U"t"o"
ofa free people'e
and corrupt the rorals
L
Character
l
Culture anil 33
I
32 Dick." In short, Franklin gave classic expression to what many felt in the
eighteenth century-and many have felt ever since-to be the most im-
Indiuidualism
+
.l
,l
U tilitarian and Expressiue portant thing about merica: the chance for the individual to get ahead
on his own initiative. Franklin expressed it very clearly in his advice to
BenjaminFrankrin(r7o;,T?:li:-fi
1rmerrLdL.
::f ;.*T:l;,:,i-::Jill
use tr'
trom
Europeans considering immigration to America: "Ifthey are poor, they
s the quintessentlal lrne d much of practical
i-t,]1""-" begin first as Servants orJourneymen; and if they are sober, industrious,
t tanism of his gqly:p:'*o''l"'tii" and frugal, they soon become Masters, establish themselves in Business,
;;*{-f,$f;J*1"",:',1"1:i:$ry;:'1,ry;i.-
o
marry, raise Families, and become respectable Citizens."ls
One of the founders What Franklin thought about freedom and justice followed pretty
'."...i'n,tq"'":l:i*ij#U.'.'U,f X'f,]r.!:"'iii:f : plainly from his understanding of success. Defending popular govern-
belieis' which he
tit,it" ; ;" ir'u,t,' for his republi- ment in the Pennsylvania Colony in 1756, he wrote: "The people of this
"emi"":t:, ""t
Province are generally of the middling sort, and at present pretty much
l"'JH';l:1";j'iir*:l:ilii'.rHlil:*.f;;il,;
i; the archetvpal poor
u:I *nli, upon a Level. They are chiefly industrious Farmers, Artificers, or Men in
ff#; maxims ftom and the
Poor
Trade; they enjoy and are fond of Freedom, and the meanest among them
;:;';;;;;;,;;;:.::l,5';'"'".11;::.;il;;'ame,hataremos'i
ac
thinks he has a Right to Civility from the greatest."16 Franklin under-
Richatd\ Almanack stood, withJefferson, that it was only a certain kind of society that'was
i"iiulv associated -iiil i; candle maker, Franklin
was largelv sel likely to give such scope to ordinary citizens, to protect their rights, and to
Born the son of a that Adams and secure their equal treatment before the law. But for many of those in-
educated, fot ht toul"'l;";-;ht t"otttgt "aut'tion
craft' he apprenticed fluenced by Franklin, the focus was so exclusively on individual sel
Iefferson took as'r"i t"' Seeking "'p;;;i;of a
s' tg'" the vicissitudes improvement that the larger social context hardly came into view. By the
imself to his older '"i;;;'; ;f;''"'the Autobiofrophy t'o
need summary
end ofthe eighteenth century, there would be those who would argue that
creer too familiar
;';;;t waststab-
i
I
ii,r,. i,, p hl ad er phil
i:##;' lif "t
t:
LX|,
T: };iiif ;i;'li good would automatically emerge. That would be utilitarian individual-
ism in pure form. Though Franklin never himself believed that, his image
l.
,l contributed much to this new model of humantife.TT Along with biblical
iru*":'*;:;"Ji'"i;'ln:';';;;;"'ircin'leres'lsror religion and republicanism, utilitarian individualism has been one of the
I the rest of his life' Prog'
Iohn Bunyan's Pilgrim\ strands ofthe American tradition since Franklin's time.
i
I
:irTf fl',i#i:il,",'.:.Tr#J,"JiJiiir:*t*:
I By the middle ofthe nineteenth century, utilitarian individualism had
become so dominant in America that it set off a number of reactions. A
,"",T":f ii',;J;";;ngisFrankrin's
I
.;"in*ik'=;* : l':xn;
cramped selcontrol of Franklin's "virtues" seemed to leave too little
I ;*'l u#l5: :rT:
li
l'
l
iri.
tsi-Jand
Christian tradition' undergo " llo,r,"r somewhat novel mean-a
room for love, human feeling, and a deeper expression of the self. The
great writers of what F. O. Matthiessen has called the "American Re-
naissance" all reacted in one way or another against this older form of
*i*ut*:.,xiAniil;r{*:iffdili**1*:::' individualism.ls In r855 Herman Melville published Israel Potter, a novel
that subjected Franklin himself to bitter satire. Emerson, Thoreau, and
have passed into the common. Hawthorne put aside the search for wealth in favor of a deeper cultiva-
"*;";:::i?,H"i",Y1i-i;!;i;;;;;::*::::::l'
Poot Richard's
'ct*il'';[-*iich
;"v to't -' tion ofthe self, But it is perhaps Walt Whitman who represents what we
-'t i:1rti::lit:1
t
Am er ic a n s
"b'";';;;' "i" 1'Hi*%: p' wh'e
may call "expressive individualism" in clearest form.
I
Culture anil Character 3 j
I
Afoot and light-hearted Crvecoeur wrote of the American that, "Here the rewards of his indus-
try follow with equal steps the progress of his labour; his labour is
i
wherever I choose'21
L,
;iffi:JT rn'i1:-:i$"ting founded on the basis ofnature, self-interest; canitwant a stronger allure-
I
ment?"24 The rational, selinterested individual had emerged as Eco-
i
nomic Man and, as such, was conceived as living most naturally in the
celebration of bodi
life' including sexal- conditions of a competitive marker in which trae and e*chang would
i
I
The frankness of Whitman's than
nt""-'-is and led to more' ex- replace traditional ranks and loyalties as the coordinaring mechanism of
]
I
itv. wa s shockin g to #t;il;t"t'y the integrity of his i if
I
a iew difficutti"''
tt'oog-; h" ""t"' compromised
L
ir
rj
l
Culture and Character 37
i"iit'';.tr*:r:1gg;ig*Ti:'"'"'ffi (moeurs) more than the laws.27 Indeed, he stresses throughout the book
I
chal of the that their mores have been the key to the Americans' success in estab-
American
ideal of intellectuals.
y^ y_rr"".tt lishing and maintaining a free republic and that undermining American
American and an ,o"l'nirrrpitv mores is the most certain road to undermining the free institutions of
day,anurnbe,or*no'"l=ii::X*:i:::',ll$::J:l'*:;
exclusrv' '"'1"* reli- the United States. He speaks of mores somewhat loosely, defining them
i, j*ir. But Crvecoeur's
him to other tal,Jrr.
H. ,.* American
variously as "habits of the heart"; notions, opinions and ideas that
iil s.blinded "shape mental habits"; and "the sum of moral and intellectual disposi-
rrTry;F'$:'ffi
the
:"'r;:irii':#'
strand-
that of a great series
tions of men in society."ze Mores seem to involve not only ideas and
opinions but habitual practices with respect to such things as religion,
*outd'.t;;;;i,o,,, t'i' -'iii"g'
derstand political participation, and economic life.
throp, and ot'"
::ffi ;***:iti];,H,*ff In short, Tocqueville, unlike Crvecoeur, saw the great importance, in
completelv'n.'P':,'l;;i
*"*1r"". He
*""t:jTJ";;;;;
iln,,,**r;,,;.^*,f
di
would un- be-as
the American mores of his clay, of the continuing biblical and republican
traditions-the traditions of Winthrop and Jefferson. He also saw very
a parto_rthe p"rety econornic man
vividly the way in which Americans operated in the tradition of Benjamin
cans ofhis generatlo
suited to , ,.tr-go"''; ",1'*ii5;;lft:l;."lll'""il1 Franklin, and to describe this, he helped to give currency to a new word.
"'Individualism' is a word recently coined to express a new idea," he
iffi l**l;::itiii*Ti*iir:*'.Llrn:::; wrote. "Our fathers only knew about egoism." Individualism is more
moderate and orderly than egoism, but in the end its results are much the
Boor- same: "Individualism is a calm and considered feeling which disposes each
m:t*;il:;.','l'lH'::;1ii:i"i""i"nu""'i'r'appea'lingin
ut"t' rl-""it Hartz and Daniel citizen to isolate himself from the mass of his fellows and withdraw into
recent times * tht -t-t" the circle offamily and friends; with this little society formed to his taste,
stin.26 had been tem-
the optimism of'the Entightenment and he gladly leaves the greater society to look after itself,"2e As democratic
For Tocquevilte' and its aftermath'
R"';il;;" individualism gro'ws, he wrote, "there are more and more people who,
pered bv't" '*p"i"'l' ';;i'":h tit"'"Jttt were frnding an alarm- though neither rich nor powerful enough to have much hold over others,
ihe prophecit' "' th;t;y"ffi'it"f of English mill
in tt i"dtt;;i"i;ft"'o' observer'
have gained or kept enough wealth and enough understanding to look
inelv nesativt as a sympathetic
'"'rir-ttf
,rrr. rotquttittJl'-t;,;t
U"itedstates after their own needs. Such folk owe no man anything and hardly expect
.;;;,-**tj:ii'Jniilif:'JL::ll"i,::i
nation m
anything from anybody. They form the habit ofthinking ofthemselves in
isolation and imagine that their whole destiny is in their hands." Finally,
rnodern such people come to "forget their ancestors," but also their decendants, as
i"'*" uy republican convictions
Headdedttc'"i3t'i''iit'sketchttft"t'ratingandcomplex
tJtn;."titty' well as isolating themselves from their contemporaries. "Each man is for-
understandin, ever thrown back on himselfalone, and there is danger that he may be shut
H; il ;;. j:
*; i;rfii: *r:i
.qio*ll,l'^"^::",^.; l}i :i ;1
d,'
1: up in the solitude of his own heart."3o Tocqueville mainly observed the
ln Democracy
'n to understat the nature of"l!,,
the de.rnocratrc
utilitarian individualism we have associated with Franklin. He only in a
Tocqueville was concerned existence but most
fully exem-
societv he saw-evervwhere
t"'-ttg-ll::;;;;, ,,tempting to assess
few instances discerns something of the expressive individualism that
'V/hitman
would come to represent.
y.:,:il;"'i3'-.i'i'. oi;;;;' ainiain rree ofpori'li- Tocqueville saw the isolation to which Americans ere prone as omi-
*i::*;:*;, J";';'-,'v -igr" il;;;;"-' "':'1":d des- that
nous for the future of our freedom. It is just such isolation that is always
cal institutio" entrepreneurial spirit
to*-tttiJ"d
the
podsm' H" "ppt"ti"ted
Culture anil Character 39
i*i3il'.":"*':l,;ii life in
j:F;Jf "*.'r"'i.'1111
increasingly Commetcial
an
soctety'
ish public spirit. The life of the towns \ /as tightly bounded, however,
and if it could yoke individual initiative for the common good, it could
from the i"J;;ity
of mediate
results
Associations' """;;;l
i'*""'i*' t'i"istration'
state' providing forums
rn
also exclude the different and suffocate the unconforming. The stric-
tures of town morality were in part generated by the citizens' unease at
between the it'di"i'Ti'""d
;d;;:':tli":u subtle
t"'t'notiv i"ttnitJv 'tpta an theon' As- trying to create community while navigating the flood of geographical,
which opinio" ""a nd passed demographic, and economic expansion. For, as Tocqueville saw, the
of pubrit i"i'i"^iTJa
i"ft"unitii.,i"' bulwrk against the
habits American, that new kind of person, was a tentative character type
ti;iil;tli:,-,iti't""
sociational lire, in mutually antagomstlc
ln-
shaped by inherited values on the one hand and the challenges ofthe
the mass sociery of check'
condition he feared*mst: structures'
j''"'iir1- rnttt il''* ediategovernment expanding frontier on the other.
dividu als' ttt, ntt of centralized
to as- A representative character is a kind of symbol.33 It is a way by which
oressure'
r'iit"ttties we can bring together in one concentrated image the way people in a
""a "*
riii'r':':,'rui3.il":ilil,:',l:i:: given social environment organize and give meaning and direction to
tt their lives. In fact, a representative character is.more than a collection of
nineteenth cenrurv,
the basic unit 1tt"i:i;;;, ;;r'th. lo."l .om- individual traits or personalities. It is rather a public image that helps
dignity
dation of both inividual 1n1-11n initiative was nurtured define, for a given group ofpeople, just what kinds ofpersonality traits ir
The Entrepreneur
a new national
society came into "selmade" economic success: captains of industry who could ignore the
our own time' Nothiii"tt"tf'"n
1
centurv develope.d cultural debate in which \Me as a nation are still engaged.a2
il;J'' including new.represe"tlt]:'" group of investors
:::i t"*'o" ovo"" u"'
the control of a The most distinctive aspect oftwentieth-century American society is
form, capablt of t*iting the
n"gt o'f t*ploy"t"t' o?i*"great distances'-was r the division of life into a number of separate functional sectors: home
resources, "t';i' i and workplace, work and leisure, white collar and blue collar, public and
business"o,no'""1'iiiltr'Tf :*^::i;J'*":[".1"*::
graded' and.untton'*-r,i."Uirl"ts, private. This division suited the needs of the bureaucratic industrial cor-
reach, its supervtsed' became the
porations that provided the model for our preferred means oforganizing
society by the balancing and linking of sectors as "departments" in a
:li::t;:*ilf'::x;:i:i:""i'ri';;h'rives'rarmos'
T'r;;ii,banking Ji-t;;..,
and insurance indus- functional whole, as in a great business enterprise. Particularly powerful
an American, oitht totpotation'a0
tries rapidly
tt* bu'""t"'"t;i,::li:-J#i:;n:lm
in molding our contemporary sense of things has been the division be-
"a"p"'t s-i ^ tween the various "tracks" to achievement laid out in schools, corpora-
The old lot d ;".;;'"t ""a "
*ltt' that were
problems
increas]l?;;;tto*i. jift town of the
tion, government, and the professions, on the one hand, and the balanc-
.r ing life-sectors of home, personal ties, and "leisure," on the other. All
*u"r' and'lhe'lradi'ionar this is in strong contrast to the widespread nineteenth-century pattern in
;*lL'f:;i:;,'i$:::'i:it:iii#''' *"'tion' Thg1ew indus- which, as on the often-sentimentalized family farm, these functions had
idea of Ame"tJ':'T;"'^,,,,i;-;" "rl'i"" only indistinct boundaries. Domesticity, love, and intimacy increasingly
irnmigrants'-and ward
trialorder*"r;;;;.,trg..iti"r.rr"ir*tr.theantithesisofthe became "havens" against the competitive culture ofwork.
of the town^'
order and decency 'F'"'lt;';";'h those years' a new politics
../oreigrt', and frighteni";.
bosses seemed
Culture and Character 45
ilil;",^u"*ili'lJliJJ,'..:.1ffi r)
I .elmademan ot m'
Culture and Character 47
;*:::*ff r:'i::$",1*tirr*t',1',..;ii'"r.'fi culture is the world of bureaucratic consumer capitalism, which domi-
nates, or has penetrated, most older, local economic forms. $/hile the
culture ofmanager and therapist does not speak in the language oftradi-
*tl**m];':';m:iJiii:;;i;'""''i'rarian"'d'lh' tional moralities, it nonetheless proffers a normative order of life, with
.*,,,*.,;;..:ii.Tii:;"'.'Jf *":"f 3':?;-T::5i;
his
character ideals, images of the good life, and methods of attaining it. yet
thologians and
'1 external world' ddl;;" tt"'ittly believed it is an understanding of life generally hostile to older ideas of moral
some access to the "d
i"1il;TY"i'.i":l$':i'$'XltJ* order. Its center is the autonomous individual, presumed able to choose
poetrv*,,"*n""'ffi
of psycholocy'::'.in
the roles he will play and the commitments he will make, not on the
\ itu iht t-t'gt"te t"tt nineteenth and basis ofhigher truths but according to the criterion oflife-effectiveness
I ;i;;; ;":, 11 I
earlv twenttetn "ff:,:
,g:];
ce
;;;"; .* p,.,' ".
;flJ fi
o r i
as the individualjudges it.
The moral language and images of this culture of utilitarian and ex-
;*i:tif'ff#'"**:i;#Jffi::::-J"'i;1,::; pressive individualism have influenced the lives of most ofthe characters
in this book, and one ofour chief tasks in the chapters that follow will be
por"iii.':lt-Tiil"o,trl'J;::i;i"i:j;;i;"'iarAmerican to delineate and understand its forms. As we shall see, the effects of this
bv means of gene orientation of the
;;"" th' ;;;;'ntal managerial and therapeutic understanding are not always benign; it does
caracter'""'' ;:";T';; achieveme;;;; tit values of the "femi- not always succeed, even by its own standards. Indeed, the very term
"masculine" *";;;i;trk rramework
nine,, sphere, .l;;J;g ;*"'i'i;' },t,.5;r'*rar
t"::,1;;;",
therapeutic suggests a life focussed on the need for cure. But cure ofwhat?
In the final analysis, it is cure of the lack of fit between the present orga-
including of work'
;;;. ;;;
"'cillation' rt. "?gr"i,'tion nization of the self and the available organization of work, intimacy, and
meaning. ,\nd this cure is to take the form of enhancing and empower-
,xrimx::::'iii:i::ii{ii},.''t"1+:l,li;:tlr; ing the selfto be able to relate successfully to others in society, achieving
a kind of satisfaction without being overwhelmed by their demands. In
i
;l{:m*:"il:ii'iTei';';;;';;nandedconsumer its own understanding, the expressive aspect of our culture exists for the .
caught up in the
.hot''Th'"I"';"i;i^;;-"""J''uecameinmanvwavsless
relevant'" i"t'-irio" *"'i;;t;;irectlv liberation and fulfillment of the individual. Its genius is that it enables i
the individual to think of commitments-from marriage and work to
't"
newsvstem'd;;;;*"otta'"otgt;t;;;t""tttsfor-greatereffec- political and religious involvement-as enhancements of the sense of
exp er iment allv
tivenessinttt";';;il;si*lt"ly'tt'ltit*avaffluenttwentieth-cen-
g^na';"uttii^t"*t rirt
J il;' "r
individual_well-being rather than as moral imperatives. \. ,
tu ry A meri c
" p:i::: lift In this process' Americans
gratifyng
The culture of the manager and the therapist is thus both recogniz-
to achieve " "'o'" ofexpectations ably continuous with earlier American cultuial forms and yet didrent
i"
learned tt uttt'i"t" "ntitt ";;;;;o ""J""
and stYles of consumPtron'
Culture and Charaeter 49
48 Habits oJthe Heart
The Lynds viewed this change with foreboding, feeling that the future of
emphasis on the inde-
point of simittll:t-tt the is an old American democracy lay in the balance.as
from them. The obvious
As we r''*'"tn' telreliance wert we
oendence of the i"i;t;' cultural Much of the public interpreted David Riesman's wide read The
uuliTrl';;";;;i ;f the co*pl'x Lonely Crowd (r95o) in the same way.4e The old independent ..inner-
hm.ric.' "'ru', allied with the utili-
have inherited' The
tip*"iu" culture' "o*attpiybv its readiness to treat directed" American was being replaced by new, "other-directed" corpo-
tttri* p"t"'n'
tarian, reveals i* di-P*;:;i*
rete types, with lamentable results. Read carefully, Riesman's argument is
git' of sel fulfill-
nor mative t"--l'*t"t;'
;; ;*y'ttt"'""t "tte exfectations of what
considerably more complex, and his evaluations are rather different from
ment. What h"' ut"i"pti
"i"* tnt "ld't'o'-tti"" rn a the Lynds'. Riesman actually proposes four character types, not two. Tra-
to defne oneself anew
makes life worth
ttJ: wi'rt ittt rttedom dition-directed character is what most premodern societies produce. It is
represented in America largely by immigrants from peasant societies.
plethoraorl'ntitin'i'i;';;;;*"::,:j',';:,:J:::Jiil"'iln"" Riesman's inner-directed type characterizes old American culture and
seems to be an amalgam ofour biblical, republican, and utilitarian individ-
ir;;ii:il.:lii:'frT[i;"';1r:x,'r"tr*ii*"l.il;
! easing of constrarn ' rulative style of management' ualistic types. Perhaps the inner-directed person is the old independent
wav ro*he citizen, more attuned to his own internal morality than to the cues of his
i' piovides a
tr *?'rf,YL'i:i:i;; i'*;""' fo' topi"g with the often-
neighbors.so But Riesman is far from endorsing the inner-directed type,
'n.j;t:;;;;;"g hesitations do not in the least detract from the value of The Lonely Crowd
baseline with which
,l
il 'J?;;^'il ey saw rhe typlcal
nineteenth-century town
1*ti,t^"rihe
that they studied n rrr,.".-it in- as a landmark study ofthe transformation ofAmerican character.
into the rapidly changing
that Muncie ut""ils;il*'r"'*td I";*1"''
t" th'v."oted the split The only book that we would place together with those of the Lynds
J;;;;;;;b1""
dustrial citv of thirtv dominant and and Riesman as a major interpretive contribution to the understanding
class *jliurg .lasr,^withl. rr-.r oftwentieth-century American character and society is Herv Varenne's
inro a business in community
the latter in many di
t*ffi"rt-" fuil'fanicipationbooks and from Americans Together (tgZZ).tt Varenne's classic study of a small town in r f
tilt"*iht t*o tuiitttown southern 'Wisconsin is the subtlest depiction to date of how American
life. Vhat becomes
what?'i1i';;'
'e general book'about
tiJ;;-itt culture and character interacted in recent times. varenne clearly sees the
Knowtedse Jor brought ti;h h;"ttt
of sociolo'gical
dominance of utilitarian and expressive individualism as modes of char-
American culture' o id ' among social critics--
I
'r"iir'nds
**;;t;t" acter and cultural interaction, and especially the delicate balance be-
I
ll detail to document
;l #;;it;te
'b"me
of"'''the i"Jtpt"dt']t iiti"t''
with its
tween them and their mutual dependence. The drive toward indepen-
namely, the decline i" tr'iL' rise of the busi-
'rthe dence and mastery only makes sense where the individual can also find a
L
A Change of Eras?
In the course of
this b.o].: *.: have clocumented the
process of separarion latest phase of that
and. indiviu;,;;;;odernity seems ro
John Donne, in rrr, enra'.
ar rhe very il;il;;;rhe modern era, wirh rhe
275
276 Habits of the Heart
Transforning American Culture 2Zz
people. Pri-
world, about the nature of societ and about who we are as
though.the yearning for the small town is nostargia
for the irretrievably
marily biblical and republican, these traditions are, as we have seen,
im- lost, it is worth co'sidering whether the biblica'""d
degree for almost ..p"bli;r"1*l
porr.i, for many Americans and significant -to some tions that small town once embodied can be reappropriated
in ways that
.ll. so*.ho* families, churches, a variety of cultural associations, and, respond to our present need. Indeed, we *o.rld rgrr.
manage to th.t if *. .rr.,
even if only in the interstices, schools and universities, do to enter that new world that so far has bee'po*eriess
to be born,"i.it will
communicate a form of life, a paideia, in the sense of growing up in a be through reversing modernity's t.nd..r.y
obhterate all pr.viou c.rl-
morally and intellectually intelligible world' ture. we need to learn again from the cul'ural riches of the
human spe-
The communities of emory of *hi.h *e have spoken are conce-rned cies and to reappropriate and revitalize those riches
so that they can
of life' to
in a variety of ways to give a qualitative meaning to the living speak to our condition today.
for ex-
time and space, to p.r*t t and groups' Religious communities' we may derive modest hope from the fact that there is a restlessness
ample, do ,rot time in the way the mass media present it-as and a stirring in the intellectual cukure itself Stephen
"*p"ii.rr." sensations' The day' the Toulmin ,.1r, ,r,
. ..rrlttoou, flow of qualitatively meaningless that "our own natural science today is no longer'moderri
science.,, It is a
week, the season, the year are punctuated by an alternation ofthe sacred "postmodern" sciencein which disciplinary oundaries
of a are beginning to
,.rd th. profane. prayer breaki i'to our daily life at the beginning appear as the historical accidents they are and the problems
tht .r. rr..-
.n."t, ,tifr" end of the day, at common worship, reminding us.that our essarily *transdisciplinary" are beginning to be adressed.
fulflled life is one in This recog-
utilitarian pursuits are not the whole of life, that a nition is based on the realizarion that we cnnot, after
all, nrr"rf r.f.r"t.
which Go and neighbor are rdmembered first' Many of our religious who we are from what,we are studying. As Toulmin p,ri, it, .,/.;;
the
traditions recognize the significance of silence as a way of breaking longer view the world as Descarres d Laplace *o't
have us i;, ""
incessant flow f serrsations and opening our hearts to the wholeness of 'rational onlookers,' from outside. our place is within
,,
of giving form to ,rr. ,"-. *"
being. And our republican tradition, too, has ways that we are studying, and whatever sciertific understanding
*. .i.rr.
timel reminding us on particular dates of the great events of our past or musr be a kind of understanding that is available to particiianr,
*irrn
of the heroes who h"lpd to teach us what we are as a free people' Even the processes of nature, i.e., from inside."e perhaps "r,r..
our privare family life takes on a shared rhythm with a Thanksgiving
f....*.a
by the poet, the theologian, and the scientist
-.y b" the same",thirrg rft.,
dinner or a Fourth ofJulY Picnic. all. At least rhere is now room to talk about tht possibility. arritt.r.
In short, we have ,r"rr.ib..n, and still are not, a collection of private are parallel developments in the social scienc... ih.r., ,o,
i, ppears
individuals who, except for a conscious contract to create a minimal gov- that studying history and acting in it are not as different ,,
* nr
ernment, have nothing in common. our lives make sense in a thousand thought. Ifour high culture could begin to talk about nature and
history,
ways, most of which *. unaware of because of traditions that are sp.ac9 a1d time, in ways thatdid not disaggregate
"r. them inro fragments, it
ifnot millennia, old. It is these traditions that help us to know might be possible for us ro find connecrions ind analogies *itlithe
oler
".itu.i.r,
that it does make difference who we are and how we treat one another.
a ways in which human life was made meaningful. This would
and nor resulr
Even the mass media, with their tendency to homogenize feelings in a neotraditionalism that would return us t the past. Rather,
it might
sensations, cannot entirely avoid transmitting such qualitative distinc- lead.to a recovery of a genuine tradition, one that i, .l*"y,
,.1r.rririrrg
tions, in however muted a form. and.in a state ofdevelopment. It might help us find again the
coherence
But if we o\Me the meaning of our lives to biblical and republicantr^- we have almost lost.
ditions of which we seldom consciously think, is there not the danger
that the erosion of these traditions may eventually deprive us of
that
the upper millstone of
meaning altogether? Are we not caughtietween
a fragm"ente{intellectual culture th. nether millstone of a ftag- Social Ecology
".rdof meaning and coherence in our
-".rd popular culture? The erosion yearnng
lives is rrt ,o*.thirrg Americans desire' Indeed, the profound Stephen Toulmin gives an illuminating and suggestive
example of a
people we
for the idealized r*.1-l ,o*n that we found among most of the transdisciplinary development in naturar science tht
h"s a deep lrtiorr-
talked to is a yearning for just such meaning nd coherence'
But al- ship to changes in social practice. The study ofecology
d."*, .r r.r-..-
-
v/hat we fear above all, and what keeps the new world powerless to be the economy, certainly not nationalization. It would mean changing the
born, is that ifwe give up our dream of private success for a more genu- climate in which business operates so as to encourage new initiatives in
inely integrated societal community, we will be abandoning our separa- economic democracy and social responsibilit whether from ..private"
tion and individuation, collapsing into dependence and tyranny. What enterprise or autonomous small- and middle-scale public enterpiises. In
we {nd hard to see is that it is the extreme fragmentation ofthe modern the context ofa moral concern to revive our sociar eology, the proposals
world that really threatens our individuation; that what is best in our of the proponents of the Administered Sociery and Ecnomi. o-o.-
as per-
separation and individuation, our sense of dignity and autonomy racy that we discussed in the preceding chapter could be considered and
so-ns, requires a new integration if it is to be sustained' appropriate ones adopted. 12
The nttion of a gansiiion to a new level of social integration, a newly To be truly transformative, such a social movement would not simply
project
vital social ecology, may also be resisted as absurdly 1t"P1"1' as a subside after achieving some of its goals, leaving the political process
But transformation of which we speak is much as it found it. one of its most important contribution, *orrld b. to
to ..."t" p"rfet'rociety. the
" Without it, indeed, there may be very little restore the dignity and legitimacy of democratic politics. we have seen in
both necessary and modest.
future to think about at all. earlier chapters how suspicious Americans are of politics as an area in
which arbitrary differences ofopinion and interest can be resolved only by
power and manipulation. The recovery ofour social ecology would ailow
us to link interests with a conception of the commot goo. with a more
Reconstituting the So cal World explicit understanding ofwhat we have in common an the goals we seek
to attain together, the differences between us that remain would be less
The transformation ofour culture and our society would have to happen threatening. w'e could move to ameliorate the differences that are patently
at a number of levels. If it occurred only in the minds of individuals (as unfair while respecting differences based on morally intelligible mmit-
to some degree it already has), it would be powerless' If it came only ments.,of course, a political discourse that could discuss substantivejus-
from the ini-tiative of the itate, it would be tyrannical. Personal transfor- tice and not only procedural rules would have to be embodied in effeciive
mation among large numbers is essential, and it must not only be a political institutions, probably including a revitalized parry sysrem.
transformatioi ofnsciousness but must also involve individual action' It is evident that a thin political consensus, limited large to proce-
But individuals need the nurture of groups that carry a moral tradition dural matters, cannot support a coherent and effective potlticat ryrt.-.
reinforcing their own aspirations. Implicitly or explicitly, a number of For decades that has become ever clearer. we have been ifraid to tiy for a
the comminities of memory we have discussed in this book hold ethical more substantial consensus for fear that the effort may produce unac-
commitments that require new social ecology in our present situation. ceptable levels ofconflict. But ifwe had the courage to face our deepen-
But out of existing groups and organizations, there would also have to ing political and economic difficulties, we might find that rhere is more
develop a social -on ttt"ttt dedicated to the idea of such a transforma- basic agreement than we had imagined. Certainly, the only way to find
tion. We'have several times spoken of the Civil Rights movement as an out is to raise the level of public political discourse so that the fundamen-
example. It permanently changed consciousness, in the sense of individ- tal problems are addressed rather than obscured.13
.r"l atiitrrd", toward race, and it altered our social life so as to eliminate If we are right in our stress on a revitalized social ecology, then one
overt expressions of discrimination. Ifthe Civil Rights movement.failed critically important action that government could take in a new political
fundamntally to transform the position of black people in our society,
it atmosphere would be, in ChristopherJencks's words, to reduce the ,,pun-
was because to do that would halve requiredjust the change in our
social ishments of failure and the rewards of success."la Reducing the inrdi-
our
ecology that we are now discussing. So a movement to transform nate rewards ofambition and our inordinate fears ofending up as losers
,o.i"i."ology would, among other things, be the successor and fulfill- would offer the possibility of a great change in the meaning f work in
ment of tnJ*l Rights movement. Finally, such a social movement our society and all that would go with such a change. To make a real
and
would lead to changes in the relationship beiween our government difference, such a shift in rewards would have to be a part of a reappro-
of
our economy. This would not necessari *"t" more irect control priation of the idea of vocation or calling, a return in new way to the
tial, its monotony can be mitigated by including workers in fuller partici- the meaning ofwork and the relation ofwork and reward is at the eart
i
pation in their enterprises so that they understand how their work con- ofany recovery ofour social ecology. But such a change involves a deep
iributes to the ultimate product and have an elfective voice in how those cultural, social, and even psychological transformation that is not to b
enterprises are run. brought about by expert fine-tuning ofeconomic institutions alone. On
pursuit
undoubtedly, the satisfaction ofwork well done, indeed "the the contrary, at every point, institutional changes, educational changes,
of excellence," is a permanent and positive human motive. where its and motivational changes would go hand in hand. For example, part of
reward is the approbation ofone's felliws more than the accumulation
of our task might well involve e recovery of older notions of the corpora-
to whet the founders ofour repub- tion. As Alan Trachtenberg has written:
great private *..trrt, it can contribute
lic called civic virtue. Indeed, in a revived social ecology' it would
be a
it would flow a number of posi- The word [corporation] refers to any association of individuals bound
frirrr".y form ofcivic virtue. And from together into a corpus, a body sharing a common purpose in a common
ii.r. .onr.qrrences. For one thing, the split between private and public' name. In the past, that purpose had usually been communal or religious;
to be
work and iamily, that has gro* for over a century' might begin boroughs, guilds, monasteries, and bishoprics were the earliest European
and,more
mended. If the ethos of wrk were less brutally competitive manifestations of the corporte form. . . . It was assumed, as it is still in
it would be more to"'o""tti*ith the ethos of
ecologically harmonious, nonprofit corporations, that the incorporated body earned its charter by
for
pri raie life and, Particulerly, of family life' A less frantic concern serving the public good. . . . Until after the Civil War, indeed, rhe as-
men and
advancement and a ."du.iion of working hours for both
-
sumption was widespread that a corporate charter was a privilege to be
in the
women would make it easier for women to be full participan granted only by a special of state legislature, and then for purposes
men ^ct
workplace without abandoning family life' By the,s,ame token' clearly in the public interest. ^
Incorporation was not yet thought of as a
would be freed to take an equal iole at home and in child care. In this way' right available on application by any private enterprise. ls
I
2go Habits of the Heart Transforming American Culture 2gr
As late as rgrr, as we saw in chapter ro, a leading Boston businessman, found out I had to give up that hold on myself. Now it has hold of me,
Henry Lee Higginson, could say, following earlier Protestant notions of whatever'it' is."16 What this student found is that the meaning of life is
stewardship, that corporate Property "belongs to the community"' not to be discovered in manipulative control in the service of the self,
Reasserting the idea that incorporation is a concession ofpublic author- Rather, through the disciplined practices of a religious way of life, the
ity to a private group in returnfor service to the public good, with_effective student found his self more grasped than grasping. It is not surprising
pnbli. would change what is now called the "social respon- that "selrealization' in this case has occurred in the context ofa second
"..o,tntability,
corporatiof' from its present status, where it is often a kind language, the allusive language of Zen Buddhism, and community that
riUitiry of the a
ofpublic relationi whipped cream decorating the corporate p'dding, to a attempts to put that language into practice.
constitutive structural element in the corporation itself This, in turn, Many Americans are concerned to find meaning in life not primarily
would involve a fundamental alteration in the role and training ofthe man- through selcultivation but through intense relations with others. Ro-
ager. Management would become a profession in the older sense of the mantic love is still idealized in our society. It can, of course, be remark-
rJord, involving not merely standards of technical competence but stan- ably selindulgent, even an excuse to use another for one's own grati-
dards of public obligation that could at moments of conflict override obli- fication. But it can also be a revelation ofthe poverty of the selfand lead
gations to th" corprate employer. Such a.conception of the professional to a genuine humility in the presence of the beloved. We have noted in
t.rr"g". would require a deep change in the ethos of schools of business the early chapters ofthis book that the therapeutically inclined, jealous
administration, where "business ethics" would have to become central in though they are oftheir personal autonomy, nonetheless seek enduring
the process of professional formation. Ifthe rewards ofsuccess in business attachments and a community within which those attachments can be
management were not so inordinate, then choice of this profession could nurtured. As in the case of selcultivation, there is in the desire for in-
arise irom more public-spirited motives. In short, personal, cultural, and tense relationships with others an attempt to move beyond the isolated
structural change all entail one another. self,, even though the language of individualism makes that sometimes
hard to articulate.
Much ofwhat is called "consumerism," end often condemned as such,
must be understood in this same ambiguous, ambivalent context. t-
Signs oJthe Times tempts to create a beautiful place in which to live, to eat well and in a
convivial atmosphere, to visit beautiful places where one may enjoy works
Few of those with whom we talked would have described the problems ofart, or simply lie in the sun and swim in the sea, often involve an element
facing our society in exactly the terms we have just used. But few have of giving to another and find their meaning in a committed relationship.lT
foun a hfe devoted to "personal ambition and consumerism" satisfac- Where the creation of a consumption-oriented lifestyle, which may re-
tory, and most are seeking in one way or another to transcend the limita- semble that of "the beautiful people" or may simply involve a comfortable
tions ofa selcentered life. If there are vast numbers of a selfsh, narcissis- home and a camper, becomes a form of defense against a dangerous and
,,me
tic generation" in America, we did not find them, but we certainly meaningless world, it probably takes on a greater burden than it can bear.
did find-that the language of individualism, the primary American lan- In that case, the effort to move beyond the selfhas ended too quickly in the
guage of selunderstanding, limits the ways in which people think' "little circle offamily and friends" ofwhich Tocqueville spoke, but even so
"
"rry Americans are dvoted to serious, even ascetic, cultivation of the initial impulse was not simply selfish.
the se1 ln the form ofa number of disciplines, practices, and "trainings"' With the weakening ofthe traditional forms of life that gave aesthetic
often ofgreat rigor. There is a question;s to whether these practices lead and moral meaning to everyday living, Americans have been improvis-
to the selrealization or selfulfillment at which they aim or only to an ing alternatives more or less successfully. They engage, sometimes with
obsessive selmanipulation that defeats the proclaimed purpose'- But
it intense involvement, in a wide variety ofarts, sports, and nature appreci-
is not uncom-o.t fo, those who are attempting to fnd themselves to - ation, sometimes as spectators but often as active participants. Some of
exarnple' a
fnd in that very process something that tranicends them' For these activities involve conscious traditions and demanding practices,
stop
Zen student ,eprted: "I started Zento get something for myself, to such as ballet. Others, such as walking in the country orjogging, may be
suffering, to gt enlightened. Whatever it was, I wasoing it for myself purely improvisational, though not devoid of some structure of shared
I had ho"ld oimyselfrrd I was reaching for something' Then to do
it' I meaning. Not infrequently, moments of intense awareness, what are
292 Habits of the Heart Trun sfo rm i ng Ame r i c an Cul ture 293
we owe their dormant rnLeviathan, Hobbes summed up his teaching about human life by ar-
our students, when they frst meet us, what we are:
thwarted for so long in their previous schooling' that deep sus- guing that the first "general inclination of mankind" is "a perpetuar and
"fp.rit..,rirr, *ill make them rJa[ze that they too' having been taught' love
irr"n.. restless desire of power after power, that ceaseth only in ."th."rt Brrt
what we love.le we are beginning to see now that the race of which he speaks has no
winner, and if power is our only e'd, the death in question may not be
schools merely personal, but civilizational.
If college education, and probably more than a few secondary
with some of.the help we need-to make Yet we still have the capacity to reconsider the course upon which we
a, well, aie still providing us
vital rsource ii out lives, it is hard to see how that other great are embarked. The morally concerned social movement, informed by re-
tradition a
for the publican and biblical sentiments, has stood us in good stead in the pasi and
.rlti,r..t institution, television, which competes with the schools
for the continuing education ofadults' suc- may still do so again. But we have never before faced a situation tht called
.Jrr.r,ion ofour youth and
from public tele- our deepest assumptions so radically into question. our problems today
ceeds in doing so' Except for some notable contributions
it devoid of any notion of coherent tradition' are notjust political. They are moral and have ro do with the meaning of
vision, most programi,tg
intrviews, and from what we can observe more life. we have assumed that as long as economic growth continued, we
On the baiis f our
many Americans are could leave all else to the private sphere. Now that economic growth is
generally in our society today, it is not clear that
t-h1"g:.i" the way we have been living' faltering and the moral ecology on which we have tacitly depended is in
;;;.;. to consider a slgniliatttlife is still strong, though dissatisfaction disarray, we are beginning to understand that our .o-.,'o., lif. requires
itr of the packag.d good
"U,r.. are fairly ingenious in fnding temporary ways more than an exclusive concern for material accumulation
is widespread. Americans
ecology' Perhaps liG is not a race whose only goal is being foremost. perhaps
to counract the harsher consequences ofour damaged social
ancient Rom also apply to us: "'we have reached the true felicity does not lie in continually outgoing the next before. perhaps
Livy,s words about
But' as some the truth lies in what most of the world outside the modern 'west has
point where we cannot bear either our vices or their cure'"
ofthe people to whom we talked believe' the time always believed, namely that there are practices of life, good in them_
f,h. rno." Perceptive
or fall into selves, that are inherenrly fulfilling. Perhaps work that s intrinsically
may be appioaching when w will either reform our republic
before us' rewarding is better for human beings than work that is only extrinsical
the hands f d.rpott-' as many republics have done
rewarded. Perhaps enduring commitment to those we love and civic
friendship toward our fellow citizens are preferable to restless competi-
tion and anxious seldefense. Perhaps common worship, in which we
express our gratitude and wonder in the face of the mystery of being
The PovertY of ffiuence itsel{, is the most important thing ofall. If so, we will have to change our
painted lives and begin to remember what we have been happier to forget.
At the very beginning of the modern era' Thomas Hobbes of the
a
v/e will need to remember that we did not create ourselves, that we owe
tlicture of human .*irt*"t that was to be all too
pro-phetic
b.t"g. H. life of mn" ro a race and what we are to the communities that formed us, and to what paul Tillich
ioj];;.#;;i;;" compared..the
no otherSodl'^nor other called "the structure of grace in history" that made such communities
said, "But this taee *"-i* 'oppo" to have
iTrk,v"iu.ing ..t"ost, an'in it [to give only a few of his many possible. we will need to see the srory of our life on this earth not as en
specifications]: unbroken success but as a history of suffering as well asjoy. v/e will need
to remember the millions of suffering people in the world today and the
millions whose suffering in the past made our presenr afHuence possible.
To consider them behind, is glorY,
Above all, we will need to remember our poverty. We have been
To consider them before, tshumility'
called a people of plent and though our per capita GNp has been sur-
To fall on the sudden, is disposition to eep'
passed by several other nations, we are still enormously affluent. yet the
To see another fall, is disposition to laugh'
Continually to be out-gone, ismisery' truth of our condition is our poverty. we are finally defenseress on this
Continually to out-go the next before, rsJelicity' earth. Our material belongings have not brought us happiness. Our mil-
And to forsake the course, is to die'2o itary defenses will not avert nucleer destruction. Noi is there any in-
296 Habits of the Heart
crease in productivity or any new weapons system that will change the Appendix : Social Science
truth ofour condition.
'we
have imagined ourselves a special creation, set apart from other as Public Philosophy
humans. In the late twentieth century, we see that our poverty is as abso-
lure as that of the pooresr of nations.'v/e have attempted to deny the
human condition in our quest for power after power. It would be well for
us to rejoin the human race, to accept our essential poverty as a gift, and
to share our material wealth with those in need'
Such a vision is neither conservative nor liberal in terms of the trun-
cated spectrum of present American political discourse. It does not seek
to retuin to the harmony of a "traditional" society, though it is open to
learning from the wisdom of such societies. It does not reject the mod-
ern cricism of all traditions, but it insists in turn on the criticism of
criticism, that human life is lived in the balance between faith and doubt.
Tocqueville was following precedent when he wrore in the introduction
Such a vision arises not only from the theories of intellectuals, but from
to volume t of Democracy in America, "A new political science is needed
the practices of life that Americans are already engaged in. Such a vision
for aworld itself quite new"1 Someone in almost every generation
,..k, to combine social concern with ultimate concern in a way that ing the past several centuries has announced that t,r.h rr.* social
dur-
slights the claims ofneither. Above all, such a vision seeks the confirma- sci-
ence has begun or is about to begin. often this claim" meant
tion or correction of discussion and experiment with our friends, our that the
social sciences were about to attain the status ofthe natural sciences. yet
fellow citizens.
those who expected social science to attain the same kind ofcumulative-
ness' agreement on paradigms, and obsolescence ofpredecessors
as net-
ural science have been perennially disappointed.
n Although Tocqueville's contemporary and fellow counrryman Aug_
uste comte was one of the most ardent disseminators of what we
call the myth of social science-the idea that social science is soon -iglt
to te-
come like natural science-there is no reason to believe that Tocqueville
shared that idea. Indeed, Tocqueville's argument for a new sciencJ
rested
specifically on the notion_ that the object of study-namely, society in
a
new world-was new and therefore required a new approacil. Tocqueville
returned throughout his life ro several major figurs in the tradiion of
French social thought: pascal, Montesquieu, Ro,rrr.au. He did not
".r
believe them outmoded or prescientific. yet Tocqueville saw that the task
of appropriating and applying their insights ro a new historical siruarion
could not be automatic but was so demanding as to require the invention
ofsomething like a new science. In that sense, each genlration, no matter
how much it learns from tradition or how much iiis aware that, unlike
naiural science, it cannot forget its founders, must still create a new
social
science for new realities.
If we, too, have had to find a new way to deal with new realities,
we
have done so not by imagining that witir us a
truly scientific social sci-
ence has at last arrived but by consciously trying
to renew an older con- 297