I’m not upset with the dialogue, my friend; I’m disappointed that I’m unable to show you what I see. (I imagine you frequently have the same feeling.)
Xeno
If you will agree to it, I do not want to go away misunderstanding you. You mean too much to me.
Assuming a willingness to comprehend one another, the greatest struggle in communication is the expression of immediate knowledge. The resulting mediate knowledge might or might not be anything like the immediate knowledge. Because we both hold certain base assumptions and axioms, we each will filter what we hear from the other through those. We cannot help it. It is the nature of our consciousness.
One technique is to re-contextualize what you are attempting to communicate. Given a willingness to understand, this technique can by-pass certain prejudices and convey immediate knowledge better than precise expression of it ever can. Jesus used this technique profusely in his parables. If you are willing, and you care to rescue this debate, make your point to me with an analogy or parable that does not make reference to society or governmet or politics.
In other words, tell me a brief story.
For your convenience, here is something you can study to see how the technique works. Here, Jesus is not really talking about wedding banquets, but about humility and usurpation.
Lib, I’ll try. Stay tuned for story time; I’ll return when I have something.
Well, I’m about to go on vacation for a week, and I haven’t made much progress in my re-contextualizing, but I have some small stories which may help to illustrate some fundamental liberal thinking. I have no doubt that they are not full adequate to the task, but with a bit of discussion we may get closer to some sort of understanding. In any case, I’m enjoying the process, and I hope to post further stories on my return from sunny Florida.
The Witch
Many years ago, the town council in a small city petitioned to host the major quadrenneial athletic competition of their country. The games had a prestigious history, and hosting the event often led to increased trade and prosperity for the hosting city, particularly in years where the competition was unusually keen or the athletes and visitors were conspicuously well treated. The council, the members of which were those of noble birth or appointment, was overjoyed to receive word from the games committee that they would host the competition in a mere four years. They began planning immediately, and brought all the most prominent citizens together.
“First”, they agreed among themselves, “we must make a new stadium, big enough to contain the spectators and beautiful so that they will remember Kzerjkstanislovopoli forever. We must widen the road into town, and create inns and public houses for the crowds who will come.” And so the owners of the prime properties set to hiring architects and designers, commissioning stone workers and carpenters and busily planning the stadium, which would be set up by a consortium of the wealthiest of Kzerjkstanislovopoli’s citizens.
The consortium meanwhile sent one of its members to the games which were about to commence in another city a few weeks ride away (in those days, oxcarts were the favored mode of travel for the wealthy), in order to gage the level of expectation they would have to meet four years hence. The man who’d been selected joined one of the many groups of travellers heading for the games, not returning to Kzerjkstanislovopoli for several months. Upon his arrival back in town, he hurriedly called a meeting of the consortium.
“Our stadium design is much better than Vladivingkhouriskya’s stadium!” he proclaimed. “And our taverns and hostels are more luxurious and appealing. -But we must do something to prevent the mob problems.” It seemed that everywhere around the city there had been bearers and guides trying to hire themselves out, vendors hawking overpriced and shoddy merchandise, unscrupulous persons misrepresenting themselves as games officials, and rampant pickpocketing and thievery. “Those folks,” insisted the consortium’s spy, “will ruin this affair for everyone! We don’t want to be remembered as Vladivingkhouriskya will be remembered; as a home for cutpurses and confidence men.”
The consortium decided that they must staff the city guards prior to the games so that they could outpost groups on all the roads coming into town. “We will check the means of all the visitors to the games, and issue passes into the city gates. We’ll increase the patrols within the city and expel those who can’t show passes or citizenship.”
“But how shall we deal with the undesirables in our own city?” asked one of the group. “Surely the wretches who dwell in those hovels below the mills and the factories will be the most insistently abusive of our visitors, wishing to grub whatever money they can get from them.”
“-Money that should properly be spent in our fine stadium and our lodging and drinking establishments!” pointed out another.
“Then we are agreed that we must find a way to rid ourselves of the unsightly denizens in our poorer sections,” said the man who had travelled. “Let me tell you about another thing I discovered when I talked to some people on the games committee. They recommended we hire a consultant to help us prepare for such issues as crowd handling and city provisions for waste management and the like; I think such a person can also deal with our riff-raff problem.”
They all agreed that they must hire a consultant, and so the city council was directed to find one by the consortium. Now, in those days and in that part of the world, all such higher forms of contracted management were commissioned of the true experts at large scale, limited run projects; namely, Witches, Sorcerers and Engineers. At the time in question, all the Engineers who would normally have been available were involved in a study commissioned by the king to determine whether the country’s plentiful supplies of saltpeter and sulfur could be used in any productive combination with other materials… the study was not expected to fizzle out for another few years. And while Sorcerers were in plentiful supply, their prices were exorbitant, and the reliability of their solutions had come into question due to a recent debacle faced by one of their brethren who had taken a rather unsuitable apprentice. The council, after months of searching, hired a Witch.
There were three years remaining before the start of the games, and only the taverns and hostels had been completed.
The Parable of the Provider
A man who had fallen on hard times in the city of his birth moved his family to a city far in the north, where he had heard that employment could be found. Although the journey was a hard one, they eventually reached the northern city, and the man found work in the fields which fed the city. After years of working the same fields, the man was injured, and could no longer satisfy the strict field boss with his work output, and so he could no longer make money to feed his family. It fell to the man’s oldest son, who had been apprenticed to a stonemason, to provide for the family.
The son, after several weeks of working additional assignments for his master, came and gave money to his mother, and asked to speak with his father. “Father,” he said, “understand that I give this money for the sake of my mother and my sister and brother. It is because of your shortsightedness and mismanagement that the family is in such straits. You moved us here to this city where we can’t rely on other family. You never cared to better your position here, and indeed your lack of ambition kept you working for a man who tasked you so cruelly that now you are injured and cannot work. You have no skills on which to fall back, and you have not sent your children to the schools which might have assured us a chance at a respectable profession. So now I, your son who should otherwise be paying you respect for your wisdom, am forced to take your role as provider. It is you, father, who should now be paying respect, but I don’t ask that. I ask only that you stay out of my vision when I bring food to your family.”
The father was sorely abashed, and left his son’s sight. The wife went to her son and took his hands. She said “Son, I thank you for the money, but you are a fool! Your father moved to this city because our families could not help us. Although the journey nearly destroyed us, your father did everything except steal to keep us fed and keep us moving. Although the field work your father did was very hard, he knew it well, and was respected by his peers. He tried to go to other fields where he might prosper more, but none would take him for fear of angering his supervisor. Your father knew that I nor his children could bear another long journey, so he stayed. Although the money was enough to keep us fed and keep our house repaired, there was not enough for schools for any of you. That is why your father sent you to apprentice with a stonemason, and your brother is promised to the cobbler, and your sister has learned to sew and to weave. You will each have a trade, which is more than your father could manage, having a family for whom to provide. It is not your father’s lack of foresight which has led us to this place, but his ambition for his children to have a better life.”
The son, hearing this, was ashamed, and went to beg his father’s forgiveness.
Responsibility may sometimes require submission to circumstance.
The Parable of the Motorist
A man taking a road trip in his new convertible stopped at a gas station just off the highway. He was amazed and aghast at the prices he saw at the pumps, and went in to speak to the clerk, demanding that the prices be lowered. When the clerk had stopped laughing, he explained to the motorist that there were plenty of other cars on the road who would pay what he was unwilling to pay, and that, if he wanted to go elsewhere to buy his gas to feel free. The man left in righteous anger, and went in search of cheaper gas. After many miles, his tank almost empty, he finally purchased gasoline at a price very close to the price he had refused to pay at the first station.
While driving along, musing on the nature of supply and demand, the man spotted a hitchhiker on the side of the road. Ah! he thought, now I’ll have a chance to recoup some of the money I had to pay for fuel! He pulled the car to a stop in front of the girl who was thumbing a ride, and offered his terms. “Young lady,” he said, “you seem to be in need of a lift. For fifty cents a mile, I’ll take you wherever you’re headed.”
When the girl had stopped laughing, she explained to the motorist that there were plenty of cars on the road, and she would just wait for someone who would let her ride without requiring payment. The motorist drove on, pondering again the nature of supply and demand.
Ownership determines where economic power is held; demand for what is owned determines the direction and magnitude of that power.
The Parable of the Strong City
There was a city in ancient times, where lived a peaceful, honest and industrious people. The city was full of artistic and scientific marvels, and the great thinkers of the age spoke and taught on the streets and squares of the city. The city dwellers, although welcoming of visitors and desirous of trade, kept no interest in affairs and happenings outside of their walls, thinking that it was not right that they force their meme on other cultures.
Eventually, there was a war in which Sparta took her armies afield and fought the invasion of a Persian king. The great deciding battle of that war formed on the plain outside the walls of the great city. Fearing that the city might take up the fight on behalf of Sparta, the Persians took a part of their forces and lay seige to the city. After days of fighting, the Spartans prevailed in the conflict, driving the Persian king back to the sea and destroying his armies, but not before the fine city was razed, its artifacts and marvels destroyed and its citizens made homeless.
The leader of the ruined city (an elected official, for the enlightened inhabitants had rejected monarchy as a system of government) petitioned to see the Spartan king. Gaining admittance, he bowed before the king and asked if he was remembered, for he had once hosted the king, who was a great student of philosophy.
“Why yes,” said the king, “I remember your city fondly, and I am most grateful that the diversion of Persian forces your city bore most likely turned the tide of the battle in our favor.”
“But,” implored the supplicant official, “your armies lent no aid to our city, and you gave us no warning of the impending battle. Our city is destroyed, all because you let the Persians have at us unmolested. Who shall remember us, now?”
The Spartan king looked at the fellow in astonishment. “It was not I,” he said, “who forced your city to limit its armies and to disdain influencing the rest of the world. What occured to your city is the concern of your city. If you had once given or sought counsel in the affairs of the city-states, we might be dining in your hall, instead of discussing blame. I grieve for the loss of your city, but it is not the fault of the Spartans that it is no more. Go now; I have political matters to attend.”
No man is an island, nor is any government in isolation to all others.
The consulting Witch, a very results-oriented hag, first required of the council that they define the outcome they wished to achieve by hosting the games.
“We desire prosperity for the city and continuing profit for our businesses,” said the councilmen. “We desire that good will be associated with our city and that this will stimulate our commerce with other cities. Oh, and we want you to get rid of the slum at the lower end of the town.”
“I can deliver what you request,” the Witch asserted, “but you must allow me three conditions. First, I must have control over all of the spending from the city and from the consortium. I will see that the money is only spent in pursuit of your goals. Second, I will provide for my own staff and will not accept any persons assigned to me by this council. Third, I will not be answerable to the council until three months before the finish date of this project; until then, I will be completely responsible for the finalization of all designs and completion of works and for the arrangement of all logistical concerns. However, at that point, this council may determine the payment to me, based on your satisfaction with my results.”
The council considered the Witch’s conditions with no small degree of apprehension. None of the council members, many of whom were also part of the consortium, were comfortable turning total control of the preparations over to the crone they had hired, but they were agreed that no one on the council had the expertise necessary to direct such an operation. And they were all quite happy with the deferred payment, which would not only let them invest the money earmarked for consulting fees, but also gave them the power to heavily discount the fee with a little creative disputation at the end. Since the Witch had good references, and was known to deliver the terms of her contracts to the letter, they swallowed their trepidations and accepted her conditions.
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The next years saw many changes in the city of Kzerjkstanislovopoli. The Witch erected a huge labyrinthine screen as a barrier all around the lot for the new stadium, and groups of workers driving huge carts full of supplies were continually coming and going through the curtain. Elsewhere in the town, new small businesses seemed to be springing up and the established businesses were finding it hard to keep up with demand. And the slums seemed to become cleaner and more reputable looking every day. In fact, the entire city was looking brighter, busier and more attractive.
As the date approached for the appraisal of the Witch’s work, it seemed that everywhere any of the council members looked in the city, they found happy and productive people making preparations for visitors. The bad areas of the town had been transformed into neat, well-ordered sections of modest houses and little shops. The streets were clean and the roads into town were lined with attractive resting places and unobtrusive signs directing travellers to various inns and other establishments. The council and consortium members could hardly wait to see the stadium.
At last the day arrived, three months before the games were to start, when the Witch was required to reveal her work to the council. They and a large number of commoners from the town gathered eagerly in front of the stadium curtain. As the Witch climbed up on the podium which had been erected for her, the crowd seemed to lean forward as a group in anticipation. The Witch spoke slowly to the assembled townspeople, and quietly, so that a hush fell over them and they strained to hear.
“There is very little left to do here,” said the Witch. “We have done much in the time we have been working. We’ve banished the wretched from the bad side of the city,” which remark prompted cheers from the commoners, nodding and clapping from the council members, “we’ve removed the slums,” (more shouts and cheering from the common crowd, more polite applause from the nobles) “we’ve rid the city of cutthroats and thieves,” (even louder cheers) “and we’ve seen large amounts of cash flowing through the city’s businesses.” This last brought the wildest burst of cheers yet from the townspeople, to the wonderment of the council.
“The only thing left to do,” the Witch finally announced, “is to finish the stadium!” And with that, she reached up to pull the rope which released the supports for the great curtain, which to the great expressed joy of the townsfolk fell grandly along its length to the ground, to reveal… neat pallets of lumber, sorted by size and length, blocks of stone in squares and piles of sand, all lying on a great flattened field that had been enclosed by the screen.
As the commoners threw hats into the air and shouted their approval with great laughter and rejoicing, first the consortium members and then the rest of the council and the prominent citizens progressed from puzzlement through confusion into anger and furious resentment.
“What about our grand stadium?” shouted one of the council members. “Where did the money go?” demanded a consortium member. “You’ve robbed us!” charged three red-faced officials. “You’re a fraud!” “What about the contract?”
The Witch calmly raised her thin hands and looked sternly at the irate nobles until she had got them to quiet their shouting. The commoners watched with smiles and grins.
“What about the contract?” she asked. “I believe the terms called for ‘prosperity’ and ‘profits’; you seem to have those at the moment. Also requested was ‘good will’, which I think you have seen among you in ever increasing abundance.” She held her finger to her brow in apparent concentration. “But I don’t seem to recall a ‘grand stadium’ being listed among your desired outcomes. No, as a matter of fact I believe I had responsibility for the final design and completion of works.”
The council and consortium members looked among themselves, but none could dispute the Witch. She had stated the terms correctly. “But,” whispered the same man who had demanded this before, “where did the money go?”
The Witch smiled and answered, “It all stayed in Kzerjkstanislovopoli, as I promised you. What you would freely have given to construct a stadium that might stand in the city for an age, we, these good townsmen and I, used to construct a city which might house grand stadiums through the ages. The money built the school and hospital, the public fountain and the new tenements. It rebuilt the river docks downstream from the mill; it fed the hungry of your city and strengthened those weakened by circumstance. The townspeople themselves expelled those unwilling to live up to the bargain I made them on your behalf.” The Witch smiled more broadly at the puzzled looks given back to her. “In return for your help, good gentles, the townsfolk were instructed to stay in your city, to spend in your city, and to keep their work in your city.”
“You have time and materials left to clear and lay a track, and to mark fields for the games, and to build stands and scoreboards. You have plenty of healthy laborers, who will do the work needed without charge, as they now have a town they wish to support, because it supported them. I am leaving today, and you may decide some time after the games if I’ve fulfilled all of the terms of our agreement; if good will is associated with your city and if commerce increases.” And, abruptly, the Witch left Kzerjkstanislovopoli.
The council, feeling somewhat used, had no recourse but to finish the simpler stadium as the Witch had indicated. They finished barely in time for the opening ceremonies, and surrendered themselves to the reaction of their visitors. To their amazement, none seemed to mind the rough facilities; in fact, it seemed that the beauty and hospitality of the city itself so captured the hearts of the spectators that little was remarked concerning the stadium. The games were a success, the businesses profited enormously from the crowds, and there was little complaining or trouble from the crowds. For years after the games, innkeepers would receive guests from out of town who remembered the year Kzerjkstanislovopoli had hosted, and who returned whenever they could to enjoy the city.
Several games had occured in other cities before a new city council discovered the unclosed contract with the consulting Witch. Although they voted unanimously to reward the Witch handsomely for her efforts, they were unable to find her. It seemed she had disappeared in a flash of light and puff of smoke soon after leaving the city, in the company of some Engineers working on a sulfer, saltpeter and charcoal mixture. It was suspected she was unhappy with the approach the Engineers had been taking, but that is another tale, for another time…