CUENTAS DE LAS EMPRESAS Y FUNDACIONES PÚBLICAS

Other sociologists have attempted to offer a more interpretive and qualitative analysis of the shifts in participation and practice that Putnam identifies. Most famously, Robert Bellah and colleagues in Habits of the Heart offer a rich portrait of American civic life through the lens of individualism, which they trace back to Tocqueville’s introduction of the term. The project, as they define it, is “social science as public philosophy.”81 _{Rather than striving for the value free objectivity of natural sciences (an}

idea which itself has been called into questions), Bellah’s work aims to construct a narrative portrait that combines survey data and personal interviews with history and philosophy. The result is a sweeping look at American life and the way in which various moral traditions have developed through time and influenced the particular brand of American individualism.

In the introduction to the work, Bellah directly cites Putnam’s notion of social capital as a principle interest.82 Yet rather than attending to broad sociological trends as Putnam does, Bellah and colleague strive for a more qualitative picture of contemporary American life. In particular, they trace the moral traditions that remain central to the American identity. Though these resources play a vital role, their function is seldom directly recognized. Indeed, a central insight of the text is the fact that we are often unable to articulate our values or their origins: “For most of us, it is easier to think about

81 _{Robert N. Bellah et al., Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in}

American Life, 3rd ed. (University of California Press, 2007), 297.

how to get what we want than to know what exactly we should want.”83 _{Rather, these}

traditions provide the background language and imagery from which we draw in articulating our sense of self, society, and world.

Bellah and colleagues believe that four traditions continue to map the moral landscape of the United States. The first, Biblical tradition is traced back to John Winthrop and the original Puritan colonies. Critically, Winthrop governed with a substantive vision of the common good and justice rooted in Christian theology. In contrast, Bellah identifies the Republican tradition of Thomas Jefferson which refused to acknowledge any particular vision of the good and strove for a government rooted in procedural justice. While this tradition held to a strict vision of equality as the core value, it nevertheless recognized the necessity of active participation for ensuring the proper function of the young democracy. Thus, while every citizen was free to envision and pursue her or his own notion of the good, each was nevertheless obliged to participate in the structures and associations that made such a pursuit possible.

Though these two traditions disagreed fundamentally about their vision of a just society, their shared interest in common life formed the foundation of America’s participatory democracy. Bellah notes that the Biblical and Republican traditions were each individualistic in their own way – both prizing the autonomy of the individual, yet they nevertheless recognized the good of community life. In contrast, the third and fourth moral traditions lack such an appreciation for common civic life. For Utilitarian

Individualism, exemplified by Benjamin Franklin, goods are measured in purely private terms, with society and its institutions serving an instrumental purpose. Partially in

response to this materialist outlook, the Romantics developed an Expressive

Individualism that sought meaning and values beyond acquisition. Yet this new moral vision shared the Utilitarian emphasis on the individual with no sense of common life.

While all four traditions are still present in contemporary American life, it is these two latter forms of individualism that hold the greatest sway over our contemporary identities. Through hundreds of interviews with middle class Americans, the influence of American individualism becomes clear. The American narrative is one of leaving home, finding oneself, and becoming a success. Most often, these markers of a meaningful life are articulated in negative terms: breaking away from the communities and institutions that have formed us so that we can somehow become more authentically ourselves. Yet ironically, with nothing more than a sparse moral vision to draw from, these quests for unique self-expression are often reduced to utilitarian acquisition. We come to believe (or are often convinced by marketing campaigns) that the possession of particular goods or markers of financial security will ensure authentic self-realization.84

Bellah and colleagues believe that this dual quest for self-expression and utilitarian acquisition explains much of our withdrawal from public life. Just as Tocqueville predicted, Americans have achieved a level of stability and comfort that allows them to neglect broader social projects. We have not abandoned social relations all together, but are more frequently withdrawing to “lifestyle enclaves” – segmented social groupings based largely on consumption and leisure pursuits.85 While these enclaves provide a sense of community beyond familial, religious, or racial boundaries, they are in fact deeply expressive of our individualized and privatized notion of self. We attach

84 _{Ibid., 82.} 85 _{Ibid., 72.}

ourselves to an enclave that we believe best expresses and supports our unique identity but that does not require anything of us in return. Perhaps the purest form of a lifestyle enclave is a romantic relationship, in which we seek that one person who will recognize and affirm the unique self behind all of our public roles and social roots. Unfortunately, like other lifestyle enclaves, these relationships are often viewed in instrumental terms, and are freely discarded when they no longer serve their purpose.86

Indeed, the individualism behind these moral traditions informs our approach to both private and public roles. Even for those that remain civically involved, Bellah and colleagues identify the quest for self-expression and realization at the heart of their endeavors.87 Often, it is a desire for a meaningful life that motivates people to become politically active, though those activities themselves are frequently directed toward local projects that serve one’s own neighborhood or school.88 _{Indeed, even national politics is}

often a competition between differing lifestyle enclaves, each seeking the freedom and opportunity to better realize their particular expression of the good life. What is lacking from this approach to politics is a view of the good life together, in which a diversity of cultures and lifestyles is honored yet the possibility of life together is affirmed.

A similar dynamic is at work in Americans’ approach to religion. Far beyond static categories, Bellah and colleagues recognize the fluid boundaries of denominations and practices. Functioning as yet one more lifestyle enclave, Americans ‘shop around’ for

86 _{Ibid., 84.}

87 _{It is perhaps worth mentioning that those who begin volunteering for self-centered}

motivations report greater degrees of satisfaction and are more likely to remain

committed than those who participate for altruistic reasons. John F. Dovidio et al., The

Social Psychology of Rrosocial Behavior (Mahwah, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum

Publishers, 2006): 156-158.

the community that best expresses their sense of self and the transcendent. Rather than promoting diversity and exchange across social boundaries (economic, racial, political), these congregations offer one more opportunity to withdraw. Yet more and more

frequently, individualism is not simply motivating Americans to find a spiritual community that affirms their sense of self; they are rather dropping out of organized religion all together. Bellah most famously offers the example of “Sheilaism,” the name which interviewee Sheila Larson assigns to her faith beyond any religion in her “own little voice.”89

In even this brief overview of Bellah’s work, the parallels with Putnam’s studies are clear. Yet Bellah and colleagues call our attention beyond the immediate measures of civic trust and participation that drive Putnam’s work. These trends are in fact indicative of much deeper moral and cultural visions. Individualism remains the aspirational ideal in American society, and our withdrawal from the public sphere comes into new light through its lens.

Conclusion

This chapter has attempted to identify many of the contemporary trends and social practices that shape the contemporary context of the United States. This begins with Alexis de Tocqueville’s foundational study of American democracy. Through his travels and research, Tocqueville recognized that one of America’s greatest strengths, its firm appreciation for equality, could become its greatest weakness. Individualism has long been established as an essential feature of American life. The sense of mobility and self-

determination it brings motivates the formation of associations and historical willingness to organize toward the accomplishment of shared goals. Yet it was also this sense of individualism that allowed anyone who reached a certain level of comfort to withdraw from society and seek only the company of friends, family, and loved ones. It was this tension, Tocqueville warned, that would ultimately determine the success or failure of the American experiment.

More recently, Robert Putnam has examined the decline of social capital from historic highs in the mid-twentieth century. Levels of civic and political participation as well as social trust have been in steady decline for decades. The non-governmental associations that Tocqueville had believed were so critical have experienced a rapid hemorrhaging of members. In their place, profession organization and advocacy groups perform many of the social and political functions that are necessary for a participatory democracy. These declines have been mirrored in American faith communities. While levels of stated belief remain high, affiliation with particular faith communities has declined in almost every religion and denomination. The challenge that this presents is not solely the concern of religious leadership. Faith communities have traditionally been locations in which civic virtue and social capital is fostered. From abolition to the civil rights movement, they have been at the forefront of social change.

While Putnam offers a wealth of data supporting the case for the decline of social capital, his research focuses mostly on identifiable generational shifts and historical influences. The benefits of social capital are likewise measured health and productivity. When Putnam turns his attention to the question of religion in the United States, he measures the benefits of religious participation largely in terms of the social capital it

creates. What is lacking from Putnam’s account is a deeper interpretation of these social phenomena. In one sense, this makes Putnam’s research an excellent place to begin the conversation. There should now be little doubt as to the benefits or decline of social capital. The question before us now is a more theoretical one: what are the ideas and ideals behind these cultural trends? How shall we understand this from a moral and philosophical vantage point? Bellah and colleagues begin to call our attention to the moral traditions and ideals behind this disengagement. The quest for self-realization understood in individualistic terms leads many to seek those practices and enclaves that will best support their individuality. If Bellah is correct, any response we may develop must be rooted in an analysis and understanding of these traditions and the ways in which they form us. It is to these questions that the next chapter is directed.