Is Trump a Boon to Progress?

Over the past few decades, five presidents have needed to address well-publicized incidents of race-related police brutality, starting roughly with George H. W. Bush and Rodney King in 1991 and still continuing today. (George W. Bush’s terms in office were surprisingly devoid of such incidents.) Each president has sought to comfort a hurting American public. Archetypal was the elder Bush’s responses, first to the initial incident:

Those terrible scenes stir us all to demand an end to gratuitous violence and brutality. Law enforcement officials cannot place themselves above the law that they are sworn to defend.

It was sickening to see the beating that was rendered and there’s no way, no way in my view, to explain that away. It was outrageous.

George H. W. Bush on March 22, 1991

And then to the rioting:

The wanton destruction of life and property is not a legitimate expression of outrage with injustice. It is itself injustice. And no rationalization, no matter how heartfelt, no matter how eloquent, can make it otherwise. …

None of this is what we wish to think of as American. It’s as if we were looking in a mirror that distorted our better selves and turned us ugly. We cannot let that happen. We cannot do that to ourselves.

George H. W. Bush, in an address to the nation on May 1, 1992

It seems we follow a standard script. Outrage at the original incident, handwringing over what we could possibly do, headshaking at some people’s inappropriate responses, then back to business as usual. Somehow, 2020 seems different. The outrage has spread around the country, and indeed around the world. Aside from George Floyd, a number of other incidents have come to light at the same time. Media have exposed some of the worst reactions of police: instead of seeking to serve and protect, too many have adopted a warrior mentality and tried to dominate the protesters.

But perhaps the most telling difference has been the reaction of President Trump. In between the normal compassionate-sounding prepared remarks he delivered at press conferences, he tweeted:

I can’t stand back & watch this happen to a great American City, Minneapolis. A total lack of leadership. Either the very weak Radical Left Mayor, Jacob Frey, get his act together and bring the City under control, or I will send in the National Guard & get the job done right.

These THUGS are dishonoring the memory of George Floyd, and I won’t let that happen. Just spoke to Governor Tim Walz and told him that the Military is with him all the way. Any difficulty and we will assume control but, when the looting starts, the shooting starts. Thank you!

Donald Trump, via tweet on May 27, 2020

This was just the beginning of an increasingly hostile attitude towards protesters, peaceful or violent. In response, Americans broadly—including white Americans—have realized that behind all of the soothing rhetoric over the past thirty years, Black subjugation has continued apace, with brutal policing enforcing the racial divide that has been baked into our society by 400 years of laws and policies.

 Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable.

John F. Kennedy, remarks on the first anniversary of the Alliance for Progress, 13 March 1962.

For fifty years, Black Americans have continued the struggle for real equality after legal barriers were technically removed by the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Their simmering anger occasionally erupted into protests and riots, but was quickly settled down by promises to change. Change never came. Now everyone is realizing that asking nicely and playing by the rules is never going to achieve real progress.

In Ancient Greek, there are two different words for “time.” The conventional word is chronos for sequential time, quantitative time. Kairos means something more qualitative, something like “timely.” The proper or opportune time for action. I believe the Trump presidency has created the conditions for change. America is under extreme stress right now, between COVID-19, political polarization and realignment, and economic spasms. Race has long been in the background for many, many social and economic issues in America, and suddenly it has been thrust to the foreground. White people are finally connecting the dots.

On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no more wine.”

“Woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.”

His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”

12 After this he went down to Capernaum with his mother and brothers and his disciples. There they stayed for a few days.

13 When it was almost time for the Jewish Passover, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. 14 In the temple courts he found people selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money. 15 So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple courts, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. 16 To those who sold doves he said, “Get these out of here! Stop turning my Father’s house into a market!” 17 His disciples remembered that it is written: “Zeal for your house will consume me.”

John 2:1-5, 12-17

As one might expect, Jesus had an excellent sense of kairos. Yet sometimes conditions forced his hand. I don’t know why first he said that his time had not yet come, but then agreed to go along with what his mother asked. Perhaps to indulge her; perhaps because they both knew that it was indeed time, and she saw an opportunity. Whatever the case, he realized also that it was time to begin his public ministry, knowing that it would put him on a path towards crucifixion. He knew that he would come into conflict with powerful religious leaders and civil authorities, but accepted that as the price of justice.

Society is always lacking. There will indeed always be poor among us, and the powerful will always take advantage of the weak. In that sense, the time is always right to push for change. But sometimes, society becomes especially pliable, especially open to progress. Right now, I feel like the accumulated stress of the past 50+ years has broken forth into an earthquake. Time to do what we can to fix what has been, and is being, broken, and then to rebuild society in a better form.

Change Happens

When people say they don’t want to change what they really mean is they don’t have an incentive to change. Change the incentives and the behavior follows suit.

James Clear

Change is in the air these days. Between the fallout from COVID-19 and the Black Lives Matter protests, it’s hard to imagine January 2021 looking much like January 2020, even less like January 2008 when I started at Missouri S&T. While S&T claims that the fall semester will go on as usual—with the same calendar, just behavioral modifications TBD—I have my doubts. The lockdown of spring 2020 basically just bought us time. Medical professionals have learned a lot, but not enough. There is still no vaccine, only one anti-viral drug (which is in short supply), and just a little more knowledge about treating symptoms than before. I would not be surprised to see a major surge in COVID-19 cases in late summer.

The main tool we have available right now is behavior modification, not to treat the disease but to prevent its spread. Wash your hands, wear a mask, and keep your distance. There is some indication that these methods are all effective. For example, two hairdressers in Springfield continued to work while they had COVID-19 symptoms, but both they and their clients wore masks and otherwise modified their behavior. So far, there have been no new cases from that incident. So perhaps masks really can slow or stop the spread.

Keeping distance is much harder. Typical personal space in America for good friends is 1½ to 3 feet, much closer than the six-foot distance we have been told is necessary. Six feet is really a lot of separation. Stores now have spots on the floor to indicate proper spacing, but even still, a person does not appear to be in a queue when they are that far apart. Will we permanently change our perception of personal space?

Our church resumed in-person worship on May 24. People are all anxious to be back worshiping together, and it’s nice to be in the same room, but it’s just not the same. What people really mean about “returning to worship” is “returning to fellowship.” Those times when people chat, shake hands or hug, and just enjoy each other’s presence. We are not yet greeting one another with a holy kiss (1 Cor 16:20).

The people and organizations that will be successful in the long run are those who realize that going “back to normal” is impossible. Instead, each of us need to think about what is essential and what can be discarded or modified. Our incentives have changed. No longer does a business simply exist to make money; now it must also consider serving its customers safely.

Meanwhile, there is a sense that real change is coming in response to the Black Lives Matter protests. Every time one of these incidents provokes protests, there is a counter-protest. “All Lives Matter. Blue Lives Matter. We should have a national association of white people. I’m white—where can I get some of this white privilege you talk about?” That sort of thing. “Confederate statues are necessary to honor our history. The Confederate battle flag is just about heritage.” Uh, yeah—the heritage of owning Black people, committing treason, losing a war, and then winning the peace by using arcane laws and customs to maintain domination. Why do we have military bases named after losing, traitorous generals? By that logic, we should have a Fort Benedict Arnold.

The problem, though, is incentives. BLM protests have paid police on one side whose jobs are in jeopardy, and unpaid crowds on the other side. Eventually, protesters need to go back to work. Many white people are coming out in support now; ultimately, white Americans have little to gain and a lot to lose in tangible benefits, so their support may wane.

As he was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.’” He said to him, “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.” Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.

Mark 10:17-27

There are two parts to the Great Commandment: love God and love your neighbor. Jesus correctly intuited that this rich man loved his possessions more than he loved his neighbor. He purportedly wants to earn eternal life, and yet the incentive of some future reward is insufficient to overcome the incentive of a good life now.

Are we witnessing a sea change in the incentives regarding race? Will society really change? Or will this just be another story that people tell as a reminder that nothing matters?

War as a Metaphor

Since America’s birth through armed rebellion, war has been used as a metaphor in a wide range of scenarios. Since the end of World War II, we had wars on poverty, drugs, and terrorism, plus a Cold War, in addition to conventional shooting wars. We use battle language when discussing cancer and other deadly diseases, addiction, evangelism, politics, and sports.

The principles of the justice of war are commonly held to be: having just cause, being a last resort, being declared by a proper authority, possessing right intention, having a reasonable chance of success, and the end being proportional to the means used.

The Jus Ad Bellum Convention

War pre-supposes that there are two sides. In just war theory, in order to have a “just” cause, one side must be wrong; hence, the other side, usually the side making the argument, must be right. The side that is in the right is justified in taking proportionate means to achieve the desired end, which is to destroy the side that is wrong.

There are many problems with the jus ad bellum convention. Indeed, each of the six principles are slippery. What exactly is a “just” cause? What else must be tried before war is a “last” resort? But most especially, what does it mean for the means to be “proportional” to the end?

Often, once we decide to go to war, the enemy against which we declare war must be destroyed no matter the cost. Convinced of our righteousness, we perpetrate such atrocities as the firebombings of Dresden and Tokyo, the atomic bomb attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the My Lai massacre, and many others that are less well-known. The enemy is not just wrong, but evil, subhuman, deserving of any terrible thing that we can imagine, plus some we can’t.

If we use war as a metaphor to approach a problem in society, we can no longer see the problem clearly. The declared “enemy” must be destroyed. We use every tool at our disposal—including violence and deception—to achieve our desired end.

And so our political opponents do not simply hold different opinions than we do. No, they are evil, un-American. All of their ideas are worthless. All of their statements are, by definition, false, probably intentionally. They must be destroyed—not just at the ballot box, but by any means necessary.

What exactly does it mean to declare war on poverty? There is no actual way to “destroy” poverty. Well, perhaps by destroying all the people who are poor. War on drugs? You can destroy individual drug-running operations, but not “drugs” as a whole. War on terrorism? Again, you can destroy individual terrorists or terrorist organizations, but not terrorism as a concept. Like the mythical Hydra, if you kill one, two more spring up.

As I watch the news these days, I must conclude that we, as a nation (though not necessarily every state, city, or town), have declared war on black neighborhoods. We have decided that black neighborhoods are full of crime, and therefore we must increase police presence in them. In between the wars on poverty and drugs, there was a war on crime, one that has never really ended. Well, if the police are at war, then they must need military equipment, tactics, and training. Oh, and especially if they are the last line of defense in the war on terrorism.

If you start with a war metaphor, you end with the situation we saw in Buffalo. Two police officers were part of what looked like an army platoon marching to dominate the battlespace. An elderly man got in their way, so they pushed him down. He fell and hit his head, and as of this writing is in stable but serious condition. The two officers were first suspended, and then charged with assault. After the suspensions, how did their colleagues respond? With sympathy for the man in the hospital? “Fifty-seven resigned in disgust because of the treatment of two of their members, who were simply executing orders,” Buffalo Police Benevolent Association President John Evans told WGRZ. Yes, they were just following orders—a defense with such an illustrious history.

But such an attitude is the logical conclusion if you start looking at a situation as war. Let’s find a better metaphor, one based on love. I propose two alternatives: healing and building.

“Healing” is distinct from “curing.” A doctor or medicine or other treatment may cure a disease, but it is the person who heals. The external agent enables the person to regenerate internally. Sometimes the cure leaves a residue, a scar, which could be physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual. For example, Rhonda had face pain eight years ago that changed both her and our whole family. Once we found a set of medications that eliminated the pain, we could all begin to heal. The healing would not be possible without the cure, but the cure alone did not change the way she and I interact, or the way we plan for the future. The cure just enabled internal healing, which in turn enabled us to return to wholeness.

“Building” takes us from where we are to some desired future that is bigger and better. I’m an engineering professor. One of the key requirements for success in my profession is to get funds coming in from grants, which support students who do research, which is then presented at conferences and published in journals, which establishes a basis for the next funding round. Getting proposals funded starts the virtuous cycle. I have been successful in building a research program despite constant rejection. Most grant proposals are rejected; all of my journal papers were initially rejected. The rejection notices include comments from reviewers. Often, the review comments are just ridiculous, things like, “The authors did not address X,” when “X” is clearly addressed on page 2. When I get such a review, I could go to war. I could contact the associate editor or program manager and argue my case. I could appeal the decision to higher levels. I could fight to destroy the anonymous reviewer somehow. All of that would be totally fruitless. I would anger everyone involved in the process and establish a negative reputation. Even if I were successful, I would only get one grant awarded or one paper published—maybe my last one! Instead, I take the reviewers’ feedback and use it to build a better submission next time. Over time, I have built my skills so that I can get grants funded and papers accepted, and I have built a program that is helping to build up the field of power electronics.

War cannot achieve any positive good. The best it can do is to destroy something bad, and sometimes even that is impossible. Let’s instead turn our hearts and minds to healing—so that the existing good can overcome the bad—and building—so that we can have a bigger, better, more bountiful future.

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