I am pleased to announce a new issue book developed by the Kettering Foundation for the National Issues Forums titled: Social Security: How Can We Afford It? This issue guide, authored by Maura Casey, is the latest in the issue book library of which Mannakee president I am Executive Editor.
The following is from the introduction to Social Security: How Can We Afford It?
If anything, the recession that began in 2008 increased the concern about the cost of caring for the elderly because so many people lost their jobs, forcing some to take Social Security years earlier than they had intended. Social Security is one leg of a “three-legged stool” that also includes private pensions and personal savings. However, in tough times many find that the Social Security leg must bear more than its share of the weight…
Many Americans are reexamining the principles on which Social Security is based and are thinking anew about the nature of individual responsiblity. What does the government owe the elderly? Should saving for retirement be strictly an individual responsibility? Is it fair to require succeeding generations to shoulder the increasing burdens of supporting retirees?
The question we must face is this: how can we best provide for Americans’ retirement?
This 12-page issue guide presents three possible options for deliberation:
Option One: Shore Up and Reaffirm Social Security
Social Security benefits represent a promise made to Americans, symbolizing a shared commitment to one another that is a fundamental value of our country. The program has earned its near-universal support and the promise should be kept by doing whatever it takes to keep these benefits as they are.
Option Two: End Reliance on Social Security for Retirement
Government has been taking too much responsibility for the well-being of its older citizens, undermining the nation’s traditional emphasis on self-reliance. We should phase in a privatized system of retirement savings accounts, which could be regulated by the government, but controlled and managed by individuals.
Option Three: Reinvent Retirement and Social Security
It is unrealistic to continue to support a plan that enables people to retire in their early to mid-60s when the average life span now extends to the age of 78 and sometimes far beyond. Americans are living longer, healthier, more active lives. The compact that Social Security represents should be adjusted to account for this.
Here is a demo of a new song I have been working on. This video is just to document the tune. I plan to do a full recording of it sometime later this month:
And here are the lyrics:
It Is What It Is
By Brad Rourke
It is what it is they say
But it doesn’t have to be that way
You can still call me on the telephone
Go ahead and take the car
I’ll walk cause I don’t have far
Can’t promise I’ll wait cause you know I hate to be alone
You could never tell me tell me if it’s really something
Following the signal till it fades into nothing
We go our separate ways
Every other Saturday
Never asking why we’re crawling back
Meet me in the park
Some time before it’s dark
I can never say where I’m going to be at night
We’ll make the handoff there
At the statue by the stairs
I can’t say for sure but I’m sure you’re right
Keeping it together for the sake of keeping it together
Running out the clock on every time we said never never
Never get the lesson but by now you’d think we both know better
Contingencies in place but even so you can’t escape the weather
(Note in the video I do not play the last two lines of the bridge, my mistake.)
Bronnie Ware is a singer and writer from Australia. For a number of years, she worked in palliative care (that is, attending to the dying). Out of that experience, she has written a book called The Top Five Regrets Of The Dying (affiliate link).
Photo by andronicusmax (Flickr)
As the year closes, and as we sweep away the past and look to the blank slate of the future, many of us are making “resolutions” or at the least setting their intentions. Bonnie’s list provides some insight as to what enduring goals might look like.
Just now I heard the doorbell ring. “I ran into your car,” says the guy at the door. (My car was parked on the street.)
He got it way worse than me. Crumpled hood, smashed grill. I had scratches on my rear bumper and some scrapes.
I finished the call with Geico and walked over to him to see how he was doing. He was crying. “I don’t have one dollar to get my car fixed. I just lost my job. I live in this car.”
I looked — a sleeping bag and pillow in the back seat. I was torn as to what to do. I was angry, and I felt pity at the same time. I have been in situations where I did not know how I was going to get through.
He could have just took off, but instead he took responsibility. That had to count for something, I thought. I gave him $20 for food and told him to take a deep breath and just do the next right thing, that it would all be OK.
He started crying again, as he got into his car. It started. I repeated, “It’s going to be all right,” and gave him a manly pat-pat on the roof of the car, as if to seal the deal.
I actually have no idea if it is going to be all right or not. I hope so.
I recently was asked to recap some of the research I have been fortunate to be a part of as it relates to Americans’ concerns when they think about the future. I’ve had a chance to review focus group findings (and conduct a few of my own) for a number of projects over the past twelve months, and a number of interesting themes have emerged.
I see seven related and interlocking concerns:
Photo by o5com (Flickr)
The “Deal” Is Falling Apart
What used to be the implicit deal between individuals and the future no longer holds true. It used to be that people had a sense of what they had to do in order to guarantee their economic security moving forward. Working hard, developing a trade or going to college, and playing by the rules, would be rewarded by a decent job, a decent living, and a decent retirement. No more. There are no longer any guarantees when it comes to the future.
Institutions Are Not Trustworthy
The “deal” referred to above was supported in large part by public institutions (I mean “public” in a broad sense): higher education, large employers, government agencies, community organizations. People no longer trust these institutions to do what they promise. (Even higher education, near the top of the list in terms of how much people find it trustworthy, only garners 35% trust.) Yet these institutions still control many aspects of people’s day-to-day lives. The frustration this generates is palpable.
The Moral Compass Is Askew
People say they are worried that America’s morals are in decline. This is a broad-based worry. People are worried about public leaders acting hypocritically, about business leaders acting out of greed, about fellow community members acting out of selfishness. Because they can’t trust others to behave responsibly, people say they have in large part given up hope that better rules or better enforcement will fix the problem.
America’s Best Days May Be Behind Us
People are plagued with a nagging feeling that our best days are behind us. People say they are aware that in many cases the next generation will be worse off than now. They also worry about America’s place in the world — and have misgivings that other nations (especially China and India) are poised to take over the reins.
Leaders Are Not Up To The Challenge
People express skepticism that the current generation of leaders is really up to the tasks it has before it. The debt ceiling debacle was just another in a long line of failures of leadership. People are dumfounded by leaders who appear to be unable to drive progress of any sort.
We Can’t Work Together
At the same time, people lament that on an “ordinary people” level, we used to be able to work together productively — and they feel we have lost that. People say they are literally afraid of their neighbors and that public life even on the local level has become filled with shouting and anger. They feel people can’t put community ahead of individual.
The Elites Don’t Care, People Are Shut Out
People are really, really disgusted with elites — political, business, academic, and more. People think that elites have an easy life that is guaranteed — for instance, majorities of people in focus groups believe that elected officials get a salary for life and are shuttled around in limousines. They also believe leaders actively rig things so they can have it easier and easier, and that they work against the public’s interest at times on purpose.
It’s not a happy picture. America is in a dark mood, collectively. People are reluctant to express hope and, when they do, it sounds somewhat forced. For example, many adults say they think that today’s youth will be able to get good jobs because they will have technical skills — but scratch at the surface and the optimism vanishes.
The above is based on my analysis of work by a number of good friends (including John Doble, John Creighton, and Steve Farkas) and on some of my own work. I am sure there are other concerns that I do not touch on. I was trying to hit the overriding themes. What would you add?
I am speaking to a high school group later today about ethical dilemmas. I prepared this scenario to illustrate the four types of right-vs.-right ethical dilemma paradigms:
Photo by 'dok1' (Flickr)
The Dorchester School was a private boarding school in Fairbrook, Delaware that accepted students from sixth grade through senior year in high school. Founded by a husband-and-wife team of educators who fled the horrors of Nazi Germany, the school was famous for its humanistic philosophy and progressive values. It was also held up as an exemplar of academic success and good ethics.
Students from Dorchester were high achieving, honest and empathetic people. The Dorchester ethics code was a simple one, borrowed from West Point: “A Dorchester student does not lie, cheat, or steal, nor tolerate those who do.”
Megan Allen and Jane Friedman were Dorchester juniors. Megan had attended Dorchester since sixth grade. Jane, on the other hand, started in tenth grade. She found the transition very difficult at first, but Megan took her under her wing and made her feel welcome. Jane, who was a naturally shy person, credited Megan with turning what could have been a very lonely time into something that was beginning to show promise. Jane also found herself drawn to Megan’s charisma, as many in the student body were – she had that certain something that just made people want to be with her.
So Jane was crestfallen when she was looking for a stick of gum in Megan’s backpack and saw a printout of what looked like an Internet term paper. They had just submitted their first of two major papers for English. Looking at the paper in Megan’s backpack, it appeared that she had copied it pretty much word for word.
Jane was stunned. This seemed so unlike Megan. They studied together frequently, and Jane knew her not to be a cheater. Yet here was what looked like proof. She built up her courage and finally confronted Megan with what she had seen, hoping there was some logical explanation.
There was a logical explanation, but it did not make Jane feel any better. Megan had indeed purchased an online term paper. She was under so much stress, she said, with nightly lacrosse practice and so much other homework – she just cracked. She knew it was wrong. She promised that it would never happen again.
Jane wondered what she should do. On the one hand, this was an aberration and she felt sure that Megan would not do it again. And, she owed so much to Megan. On the other hand, the school’s rule was very clear: Not only was it wrong for Megan to plagiarize, but the school ethics code suggested that it was now Jane’s duty to tell the school what she knew.
While Jane pondered, Daniel Cray had his own decision to worry about. He was Megan’s English teacher. He knew Megan well, and he knew her parents well. They were generous donors to the school, athletic boosters, and always showed up at school meetings and functions. Yet, something about Megan’s recent paper did not seem right. He could not put his finger on it, but it seemed off. He pasted a particularly unique sentence into a search engine just to see what he would find – hoping that he would find no hits.
Unfortunately, he found a hit on an overseas online term paper site. Megan’s paper had clearly been purchased from a paper mill.
Cray pondered his next move. He certainly was within his rights to fail Megan. In fact, school policy suggested that was what he ought to do. However, he did have some leeway. He knew Megan well, and knew that this year she had been under a great deal of stress. She had never done something like this before.
Cray confronted Megan, and she confessed, giving the same explanation she had given Jane. In fact, she asked if Jane had told, and Cray said no, that he had figured it out himself.
Cray ultimately decided to give Megan a zero for the paper, but allow her to write another one at half credit. It was possible, if she did perfectly for the rest of the semester, that she could get a B. She was normally an A student, so this was not a small punishment. But Cray could have failed her for the whole class.
Cray wrote Dorchester’s head of school a memo about what he had decided. Cray felt that this was the kind of issue the head would want to know about.
Holly Blackwell now had her own problem to contend with. Blackwell was the Dorchester lacrosse coach. While Dorchester was a real success in many respects, it was not known as an athletic school. Truth be told, most of its teams fielded losing seasons. That was OK with most members of the community. However, this year the lacrosse team was different. Headed by Megan, who had innate skills and athleticism, the team was just a few games away from winning their regional championship. Dorchester was set to play a semifinal match against a tough team two days after Cray sent his memo.
Blackwell knew that, above all, Dorchester students and faculty were expected to do the right thing. And there was a policy that if a student is suspended for cheating they could no longer play sports for the remainder of the season. On one hand, Blackwell knew that, at a minimum, she should probably not allow Megan to play in the semifinal match.
However, on the other hand, Megan had not been suspended. She had gotten a different form of punishment. And, weighing even more heavily on Blackwell’s mind, was the fact that it would mean a great deal to the team – and to the Dorchester community – if they could say that they had at least made it to the finals. Without Megan they did not have much a chance.
Frank Shanahan also had a decision to wrestle with. As head of the Dorchester School, it was his job to set the right tone at the top. He strongly believed he had to lead by example. He always worked hard to figure out the right thing to do.
In this case, Shanahan thought Cray’s decision was right. Plagiarism could not be tolerated, but there were unusual circumstances. It was not right to be strict all the time in every case. He thought Cray had found a good middle ground.
However, Shanahan was worried about another facet of the issue. It seemed clear that Jane Friedman had known about the cheating and had not reported it. The part of the school’s ethics code about “not tolerating those who do” was meant to cover just such a situation. Students are not supposed to put up with unethical behavior from their peers.
But, the episode had been handled and everyone was now moving forward. Cray had confronted Megan possibly before Jane had a chance to tell anyone. It would be easy to just move ahead and in many respects that would be the right thing to do. Shanahan made it a point to know as many students as well as he could – he knew Jane and knew that any punishment he could administer would likely be devastating to her. She was a person who had needed nurturing when she arrived and had begun to thrive as a result. Punishment for an ethics code violation would be a big step backwards for her.
However, Shanahan was worried about the precedent, too. That last part of the ethics code was tough to live up to – if he started to cut corners he could imagine that pretty soon it would be the piece of the code that everyone ignored.
I am delighted to announce a new issue book developed by the Kettering Foundation for the National Issues Forums titled: Immigration in America: How Do We Fix a System in Crisis?
This issue guide, authored by my good friend and colleague Scott London, is the latest in the Kettering Foundation issue book library of which I am executive editor.
Immigration In America: How Do We Fix A System In Crisis?
Immigration in America: How Do We Fix a System in Crisis?
Most Americans agree that our immigration system needs an overhaul. Too many immigrants slip across our borders undetected and too many are here on expired temporary visas. Backlogs and bureaucracy prevent high-skilled foreign workers from getting the permits they need and hinder family members from being reunited with their loved ones in the United States.
Tackling the immigration issue requires that we take a fresh look at it and get beyond the polarized debates that too often divide the country rather than bringing it together. Our challenge today is to build a system that reflects our essential values as a nation of laws and a nation of immigrants. This issue guide explores three different options for doing that.
Option One: Welcome New Arrivals
America is a nation of immigrants, a people welded from many nations and races, bound together by a common vision of opportunity and freedom. That diversity has always been the backbone of America’s strength. A 21st -century immigration system must reflect these characteristic values along with a humanitarian commitment to refuges and those seeking freedom from persecution.
Option Two: Protect Our Borders
Some of America’s most serious social and economic problems are exacerbated by the influx of unauthorized immigrants. By failing to control illegal immigration, we’ve undermined our national security, stiffened competition for scarce jobs, and strained the public purse. This option argues for tighter control of our borders, tougher enforcement of our immigration laws, and stricter limits on the number of immigrants legally accepted into the country.
Option Three: Promote Economic Prosperity
Protecting American jobs while at the same time increasing economic competitiveness requires a multi-faceted immigration strategy, one that acknowledges the important contributions made by high-and low-skilled immigrants alike, but does not depress the wages of disadvantaged American workers or drain our public resources, especially during economic hard times.
Like much of the nation, I have been stewing about the Penn State scandal. And, like many, I have been thinking about what lessons can be drawn.
Photo courtesy pennstatelive (Flickr)
There are many raw emotions when it comes to the situation. Many are writing much more eloquently than I could about the disgusting betrayal of trust at the core of the situation, about the moral cowardice exhibited by almost all actors, and the arrogance of the powerful few in the face of the weak. All these things make my blood boil, even as my more moderate self counsels me to withhold judgment until I know more.
But, for leaders of mission-based organizations, there is a clear lesson that can be learned here. It is this: Beware the successful program.
The way the Penn State situation has unfolded has shone a light on the power of sports programs in American academe. Football, for many large colleges, is a highly successful revenue-producing program. Yet, it is just a minor part of the mission of any academic institution. The power that football wields, by dint of its success, vastly outstrips its importance to the mission of a school.
Football, and other intercollegiate sports, very easily becomes the tail that wags the dog. This is the danger that organization leaders must be aware of. In the face of a successful but non-core program, it is easy to rationalize that it must be continued. A leader need only point to all the good that it makes possible — all the good that its money makes possible, to put a finer point on it.
However, once one sets foot on this slope of reasoning, it quickly becomes slippery and an institution can find itself in the valley below. While the Penn State scandal provides a dramatic and high-stakes example, the principle applies beyond sports and beyond schools.
Many years ago, I was in charge of a major program administered by a small nonprofit organization. My program was responsible for about 35% of the organization’s budget each year. However, it was a bit off the beaten path for the organization, which was focused mainly on delivering training and developing new intellectual frameworks. My program, on the other hand, was focused on political advocacy.
Over a short span of time, because my program was so alien to the core activities of the parent organization, I was granted a great deal of autonomy. When it came time to renew the grant application with our funder, the prospect of losing the revenue source became alarming — and so we crafted proposals that would get funded, first and foremost. In some cases, I believe this was at the expense of the mission of the parent organization.
The situation was not cut-and-dried. It was possible, at every juncture, to make a good case: This program was sort of in line with our mission, and it enabled so many other important activities . . . so we ought to keep at it.
Eventually, the chief funder of the program ceased providing resources because of a shift in focus. I believe this was in the end a good thing for the parent organization, as it forced a decision that, up to that point, the leadership team had been loathe to make.
Those who lead mission-driven organizations should take heed of the parable we are offered by the Penn State scandal. It appears that, in the case of the actors involved in Happy Valley, the power of the individual program was sufficient to maintain silence. In many organizations, there is some small pocket that wields a similarly outsize force. They are allowed to continue, in many cases, out of convenience or a sense that they are necessary for survival.
Leaders need to ask themselves: What programs is my organization inappropriately addicted to? How prepared am I to cut the cord?
The answers may give one pause, but they should be heeded.
As many of my friends and colleagues know, in June 2007 I founded a local blog called Rockville Central. Within a week or two [correction: the first day] my friend and colleague, Cindy Cotte Griffiths, joined me and we co-managed the blog from that point forward.
Over time, it grew to be the second most-read local blog in Maryland and was on the forefront of a number of innovations. In March we made national news by moving entirely to a Facebook publishing platform.
Even with all the success, keeping Rockville Central going was a non-trivial undertaking and after more than four years today Cindy and I announced our decision to cease publishing. Rather than let the community whither, we diecided to make a clean break. So, today is the last day of publication for Rockville Central.
It is with mixed feelings that we are announcing that, after more than four years and four months of continuous existence, as of today Rockville Central will cease publishing.
Cindy Cotte Griffiths and Brad Rourke of Rockville Central
We view our move to Facebook as having been successful. We have appreciated the members of our community posting photos, questions and links on Rockville Central and seeing other people respond. We’ve also been pleased to have first-hand news accounts from the people with their cell phones. Our active users have increased by over 500%. We’ve gone from about 24,000 hits a month on the website to 100,000 post views a month on Facebook. A single post on Facebook typically gets over 2,000 views.
Even with all this interaction, comments have remained civil. People have participated with thoughtful and full opinions about the issues. We’ve been able to provide a place for public discussions about Rockville based on the many news sources in our region. All these outcomes are gratifying.
However, the simple fact is that it takes a great deal of energy and time to support the online community in the way we feel it deserves. We do not make money off of Rockville Central, and never intended to. It is a labor of love and devotion to Our Fair City. We don’t feel we can devote the kind of energy it deserves and so, rather than let it whither, we decided to make a clean end.
Thank you so very much to all of our readers — both early adopters and new friends. If you are interested in following Cindy and Brad to see what else they are up to, please do so. You will see us all around Rockville and we will continue to be involved in the civic life of our City.
Farewell, friends. We’ll see you around.
~Brad Rourke and Cindy Cotte Griffiths
I definitely plan on continuing to be active in local civic affairs, and some new ideas are percolating in my head, so no condolences are necessary. This is a good move and it frees up energy and time for the next chapter.
Thank you to all who have supported Rockville Central over the years.
I have always been fascinated with the Panopticon. It figured in an essay I wrote about leadership some time ago, but my interest in it goes way back. As social media, and especially Facebook, has grown and evolved over the past handful of years, I keep thinking it is time to revisit the panopticon. With the recent changes now rolling out across the Facebook landscape, which include “passive sharing,” now seems the time.
The Panopticon was a unique prison design, rooted in moral philosophy. Here is my description of it from my 2004 essay:
In 1787, one of the great thinkers of English history, Jeremy Bentham, proposed a new design for a prison. He called the design the Panopticon. The idea was simple: from one point in the center of the building, a single guard could see any inmate at any time. All of the inmates knew this, but could not tell when, or whether, they were being observed. The concept was intended to promote the moral development of the prisoners, as the constant possibility of scrutiny would serve to make them less likely to behave badly. The Panopticon was a leap forward in its day. Designed to replace the infamous Botany Bay, it was among the first prisons to incorporate the idea of rehabilitation rather than punishment. Instead of being seen as beasts, prisoners were now assumed to be able to regulate their own behavior. Bentham’s design would have provided the motivation for them to do so.
Today, we live in the Panopticon. Our every move is visible. Facebook’s recent shift to an Open Graph (where my actions on outside web sites can be recorded and posted to my stream in real time) is one fresh example, but the truth is that we live in the Panopticon every day everywhere. In a world where everything can be shared, everything is shared.
We used to imagine we had a zone of privacy brought about by anonymity when we were in the public, but no more. If I do something boneheaded in a public place, it is quite likely that someone is filming me and will upload it to YouTube, or Tweet about it.
The typical response to this observation is that living in the Panopticon is a bad thing. Where is the privacy?
But I am not so sure. There is a strong up side to the Panopticon. That’s its allure. Certainly, when police officers are overstepping their bounds and harassing people, we can be thankful that footage of their misdeeds pops up and gets shared. When political office holders think sending photos of their junk to people is a reasonable means of courtship, we can be glad that inadvertently slips of the keyboard get such idiocy out in the open.
There is also a mighty downside to the Panopticon. Whistleblowers need and deserve anonymity. Victims of violence need and deserve anonymity. Dissenters need and deserve anonymity. Yet the Panopticon works against anonymity, exposing all.
The point of the Panopticon is not that everything I do is being watched — it is that everything I do might be watched. The theory then goes that I will therefore act accordingly. The downside of this is that it chills otherwise free speech and behavior. The up side is that I supposedly will moderate my baser desires.
However, this theory is disproved every day. No one can reasonably believe that they can truly find a zone of privacy to shield bad behavior. But day after day, people act as if the Panopticon did not exist. They persist in the magical thinking that just becuase I do not see anyone watching me, that no one is.
But today, someone always is.
I believe it is too late to roll back the changes in society that have led to the Panopticon. Visibility is too ingrained across almost every activity. We can stem the tide, but we can’t stop it.
Eventually, we will collectively come to grips with the Panopticon. I am hopeful that the result will be greater tolerance.
Ten years ago, collegiate use of “soft” drugs like marijuana could still derail a political career. Now, not so much. Five years ago, you would see a regular drumbeat of articles admonishing college kids to scrub their Facebook profiles to make sure they don’t have any photos of themselves at parties. Now, you don’t see so many such articles, because hiring managers are beginning to accept the notion that people don’t always behave the way one would wish.
While I am hopeful about the outcome, the road there may be rocky. We have some years ahead of us where things may be ugly. We will see behaviors that used to be hidden. We will over-react and — in some cases — under-react. The marginal will continue to be persecuted. We will have intolerance and lynch mobs (figurative and literal). This saddens me, but I believe it is likely.
Eventually, I hope we can as individuals reach a collective conclusion about the Panopticon. If I live in the Panopticon, I have a double moral duty: On the one hand, I must moderate my behavior and do right as often as I can; on the other hand, I must exercise tolerance because I know that the harsh glare of judgment I shine on others could easily be shone on me.
We all live in the Panopticon. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.
If anything, the recession that began in 2008 increased the concern about the cost of caring for the elderly because so many people lost their jobs, forcing some to take Social Security years earlier than they had intended. Social Security is one leg of a “three-legged stool” that also includes private pensions and personal savings. However, in tough times many find that the Social Security leg must bear more than its share of the weight…
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