COMMUNITY LEARNING:
WHAT
THE 60S HAVE TO SAY TO THE 90S
Arthur Warmoth
Sonoma State University
© 1994
Since
this award honors a department that opened its doors in 1961, it is appropriate
to reflect on the sixties and to ask what some of the enduring contributions of
that decade have been. However,
following the dormant decade of the eighties, it is also worth asking how these
enduring contributions need to be reworked for the nineties, by our department,
by humanistic psychology, and by society at large. Perhaps I should have subtitled my talk "What the 60s
have to say to the 90s, and how the 90s need to respond."
The
sixties were, in many ways, a dress rehearsal for the turn of the 21st
century. That decade was characterized
by a massive critique of late industrial society. This critique anticipated replacing that society with
something radically different, and hopefully better. There were two dominant themes to this critique. On the one hand, there was humanistic
psychology and the human potential movement, which promised the transformation
and reconstruction of the individual self. On the other hand, there was radical political activism,
which promised the transformation and reconstruction of the institutions of politics
and production. The sixties also
saw the birth of environmentalism, which is sometimes dated as the publication
of Rachel Carson's Silent Spring
in 1962. The ecological view of
systems may eventually contribute to integrating the other two themes. But in the sixties, the two movements
generally existed in isolation from one another.
The
human potential movement offered a radical reinterpretation of what it means to
be a human being. Abe Maslow's
motivational theory and Rollo May's existential explorations emphasized the
higher, as well as the lower, needs and potentialities. Carl Rogers, Rollo May, and Fritz Perls
were simply the best known of an army of practitioners who invented the growth
center and reinvented psychotherapy. In the process, these humanistic psychologists
transformed our ideas about what it means to be fully human, at least for the
liberal judeo-protestant upper middle class. This movement was based on a set of values which deserve to
continue to inform our strategies for cultural evolution as we move into the
new century. The core values
included:
1.
The centrality for
psychology and human affairs of human experience, of the 'subject,'
2.
The centrality of the
human experiences of choice, will, responsibility, and emotional and spiritual
depth.
3.
The importance of the
satisfaction of the full range of human needs: physiological needs, security, relationships, achievement
& recognition, and psychospiritual self realization,
4.
The importance of
spiritual consciousness and spiritual development,
5.
The importance of higher
values such as compassion, responsibility, commitment, truth, beauty, and
justice.
Political
radicalism criticized the shallowness and unfairness of modern industrial
society. It suggested that the
problems reside in the deep structure of our social systems. Unfortunately, the critics of the 60s
were taking on modern industrial society at the point of its fullest flowering,
as measured by the growth of industrial output, the spread and inventiveness of
technology, and the general spread of affluence among the industrialized
nations. (Since it was also the
"baby boom" generation, it seems likely that the freedom to engage in
radical critique was often subsidized by the voluntary redistribution of wealth
from the older to the younger generation, both directly and through the massive
investments that were being made at the time in education.)
I
believe that it was probably that affluence which kept the two critical
movements from having to deal with each other. The participants in the human potential movement could
pursue their inner explorations without fear of major shocks from the political
and economic institutions that maintained their lifestyle. The idealogues of the radical left
could conduct their agitation in the streets and in the universities without
having to face the distortions that came from unresolved parental relationships
or from the inability to connect empathically and productively with the
experiential world of the ordinary citizen.
Today,
however, it is hard to ignore the fact that modern industrial society has run
its course. It is not clear what
we should call what comes next.
The terms "postindustrial" and "postmodern" have
both been widely used, and neither seems entirely accurate in its
connotations. But it is quite
clear that the new communications and information processing technologies
combine with our increasing awareness of the ecological and social toxicity of
the old technologies to project us headlong into a foreign and sometimes
terrifying new world. Whatever we
call it, the challenge of the new era is to realize that the pursuit of
personal meaning and fulfillment absolutely requires participation in
the task of reconstructing society and renegotiating the social contract. After all, self-actualization cannot be
achieved without involvement in the context of ordinary reality. When reality is chaotic, the chaos must
be engaged.
As
we look to reconstructing our political and economic institutions, much of the
leftist and centrist critical analysis of these institutions that we inherit
from the 60s remains relevant. (It
is worth noting that, although industrial socialism fell first, I believe that
industrial-model capitalism will not be far behind. Both were based on the dynamics of an energy intensive,
heavily polluting model of industry.
That model that is now obsolete.)
We urgently need a higher level of public literacy concerning the system
properties and dynamics of our political and economic institutions if we are to
redesign them in ways that are both effective and democratic. However, there was a key point that was
missed by the criticism of society that dominated the 60s. That is the fact that--in addition to
more effective and widely understood theories of society--we need more
effective theories of community.
For it is only through participation in healthy community that the
person can be fully involved in the reconstruction of society. Therefore, in the reaminder of this
talk, I would like to offer the broad outlines of such a theory.
First,
I would like to propose a working definition of community: A community is any social system (group, organization, etc.) on a
scale (size) between small groups and the limit defined by the possibility of
whole person, interactive communication among all group members. In other words, it is the scale
within which it is possible for group members to know one another as distinct,
individual personalities. (A more
precise technical term might be "communal systems" or "community
systems.") As we know in
humanistic psychology, whole person communication has nonverbal as well as
verbal dimensions. And this in
turn requires whole person interaction, both to incorporate the subtleties of
gesture and tone of voice, and to explore the emerging meanings of images and
symbols. And it seems clear that
there is a certain scale beyond which a group cannot be organized in terms of
this type of interactive communication.
We may imagine that we know the president or the governor or our
favorite movie star as a human being.
Mass politics and entertainment are largely dependent on the illusion
that this is so. But you need to
be the heroine of Woody Allen’s The Purple Rose of Cairo to believe that the relationship is mutual. There is much of human life that is
best suited to be carried out in the context of community, as defined by this
criterion.
This
definition is reminiscent of Ferdinand Tönnies classic distinction between
gemeinschaft and gesellschaft, which are usually translated as
"community" and "society." However, rather than seeing these as stages of social
evolution, as Tönnies did, I am proposing that they represent two levels
of social scale that have some critically different system properties. They are both important and useful
types of systems, but they each have very different advantages. The core of wisdom in managing social
evolution in the postmodern era may be to learn how to use each type of system
for the things it can do best, and to avoid burdening either type of system
with responsibilities for which it is unsuited.
It
will be useful to briefly consider some of the characteristics of large scale
systems, in order to place the discussion of community systems in context. There are two types of large scale
social systems: civilizations and
societies. Civilizations
are large scale cultures. They are
the older of the two forms, and they have historically organized themselves
around a dominant religious ideology.
Modern societies are composed of intentionally designed systems
which might be conveniently included under the rubric of corporate systems
or corporations--”corporation” is another translation of gesellschaft. I am using the term "corporation" in a very broad sense, for
creatures such as governments and academic disciplines fall under this
definition. Corporate systems are intentionally created by design, in order to
serve specified human purposes.
The tools of their creation include law, policy, bookkeeping, and
information processing bureaucracy.
I
will save my thoughts on the evolution of large scale systems for another
occasion. But there is something
that needs to be said about their current status. First, civilizations are obsolete; and second, the corporate
systems of modern society need to be tamed.
With
regard to the obsolescence of civilizations, I must emphasize that I do not
think that cultural history is obsolete. The deep cultural and spiritual understanding of the human
condition, as interpreted by symbols emerging from the deep levels of the
unconscious, will always be with us.
And all of our lives and communities have historical roots in shared
symbols derived from one or another of the world's great religious
ideologies. However, I am
skeptical that we will ever again see the day when a dominant metaphor will be
the primary unifying principle of any real large scale social
organization. I am even more
certain that no individual or group--no priesthood--will be given authority to
impose its own interpretation of the meanings of our shared metaphors. Spiritual development is important, but
it is better left to the interactive play of ethical dialogue and creative
storytelling within communities.
Social policy and constitutional law in the area of freedom of religion
have barely begun to scratch the surface of the issues raised by this insight.
On
the other hand, corporations, or societal systems, need to be tamed by
recognizing what they can and cannot do well. Societies, in the form of governments, are very good at
waging war, but very poor at managing the peace. Only healthy communities can do that. Societies, in the form of academic
disciplines, are very good at creating bodies of scientific knowledge, but very
poor at applying that knowledge to the solution of social problems. Only knowledgeable communities can do
that. Only planetary agreements
can control global warming, or save the rain forests and the oceans. But only local communities can save the
local trout stream, or the local topsoil, or deal with local homelessness. The commercial corporate form is useful
for raising massive sums of capital and undertaking large scale projects, and
it is very good at satisfying those human needs that can be satisfied by
manufactured goods. But most human
problems do not require large scale projects for their solution. And most human needs can be best
satisfied by natural resources or by other people, and not by manufactured
goods. Obvious examples of the
former include food and living space.
Examples of the latter include health maintenance, education, public
safety, good government, and entertainment. All of the latter are more likely to be provided by healthy
and well informed communities than they are by national policy.
Healthy
and well-informed communities, on the other hand, if they are given the support
of broad social policy, are well suited for managing resources and nourishing
their members. They are also good
for learning. We can see this in
the model of the classical academy, the medieval university, and the modern
liberal arts college. If our
futurologists are correct in asserting that the work of the future is learning,
and learning how to learn, perhaps it would be wise for much more of society to
take on the characteristics of the liberal arts college campus. Undertaking the project of learning as
a community offers greater resources than are available to the isolated
individual for mastering the complexities of today’s information
overload. At the same time,
learning on the community scale provides opportunities for dialogue and
discussion that can maintain the vitality, creativity, and ethical focus of the
learning process.
Effective
communities will need to learn how to learn. This will mean learning how to use all of the available
learning tools and modalities. We
will need to learn how to use the information superhighway for the access it
gives us to the cumulative and relatively timeless knowledge of the scienfitic
disciplines. We must also learn
how to use it to access the real time information it can give us about the
current status of continuously evolving chaotic social and natural
systems. But we must also learn
how to use the wisdom of the heart and the soul, which is available through the
creation of and reflection upon living metaphors, images, and stories. Humanistic psychology has a great deal
to say about all of these learning tools.
I hope that we will continue to work to say it clearly and effectively,
and in ways that can cross the boundaries of class, ethnicity, and ontological
biases.
If
we are thinking about assigning such awesome responsibilities to communities,
it might be useful to have some criteria for determining what a healthy
community is. I suggest that there
are useful criteria that can be grouped into three categories: 1) Healthy communities embody humanistic values, 2) They embody democratic values, and 3) They have a healthy interface with
larger social and ecological systems.
Humanistic
values includes the following:
·
Acceptance of members
as whole persons, “unconditional positive regard” (Carl Rogers),
·
Support for the full
range (or hierarchy) of members' needs (A. H. Maslow),
·
Attention to and
respect for the Daimonic (Rollo May).
Democratic
values would include:
·
Open, interactive
communication,
·
Participatory decision
making (Consensus, or other processes that respect needs of all members),
·
Roles based on
knowledge and skills, rather than on status.
Healthy
interfaces with larger systems would
be defined as interfaces that permit the community a large measure of
self-determination. These
interfaces would include:
·
An economic
interface that includes control over adequate resources and responsibility
for production and stewardship;
·
A political
interface based on effective participation in relevant areas of public
policy;
·
A cultural
interface, with a clearly articulated historical narrative that relates to
the historical and ethnic narratives of the larger society.
If
we accept the idea that communities represent effective learning systems, the
questions remains: What do healthy
communities need to learn? Rich
communities need to learn how to give up non-renewable hydrocarbons, while poor
communities need to learn how to give up unrestrained procreation. Everyone needs to learn empathic
communication and compassionate understanding. Or, in the simpler words of Rodney King, we need to learn how to "get
along." We need to
learn how to create public corporations that can be a countervailing force to
private corporations. We need to
learn how to combine distributive justice with efficient production. Jesus was probably right when he said
that "ye have the poor always with you" (Matthew 26:11).
After all, conspicuous consumption is widely admired and it is not
universally attainable. For that
reason, relative poverty is inevitable.
But Jesus did not say that relative poverty must always be an
affliction. There are still many
so-called underdeveloped cultures--cultures that are one of our priceless
vanishing resources--that demonstrate this to be true.
The
message of the 21st century is that the values of humanistic psychology will be
translated into action and effective social change by communities, which
include groups, organizations, and networks, as well as the geographically
based cultural and political communities that we often have in mind when we
lament "the loss of community."
They will not be realized by the "Lone Rangers" of the
sixties. There will continue to be
a role for creative and entrepreneurial individuals. But that role will be one of self-reflective mutual
empowerment, not one of charismatic leadership. The need for continuous scanning of a constantly changing
environment will necessitate the development of organizations, as well as of
individuals, who are capable of learning.
It will generate the need for reflective, ongoing conversation and
dialogue, in order to support the effectiveness of environmental scanning. But even more importantly, the ongoing
dialogue and conversation that are possible in community are urgently needed in
order to maintain the ethical bearings of the social enterprise.
An invited address
presented to Division 32, Humanistic Psychology, of the American Psychological
Association at the 102nd Annual Convention, Los Angeles, CA, August 14, 1994.
The occasion was the
presentation to the Psychology Department of Sonoma State University and the
author of the Charlotte and Karl Bühler Award for pioneering work in
graduate education in humanistic psychology. I would like to acknowledge the faculty of the department,
past and present, each of whom has made unique and distinctive contributions,
not the least of which has been to create an organizational culture in which
the whole has been greater than the sum of the parts. The founders of the department, George McCabe, Hobart (Red)
Thomas, and Gordon Tappan, are particularly deserving of recognition for
establishing it upon a humanistic vision.