Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Out of the Mouths of Kidnappers...


"A country that does not pay its professors well," one of the kidnappers asked,
 "how can that country progress?"


Photo credit: AP via BBC

This quote came from a conversation held by Laureano Marquez with his Venezuelan kidnapper. Marquez, a popular writer and satirist who was recently released from a brief captivity, had the presence of mind to joke with his captors in order to diffuse the situation. He also spoke with them about the state of Venezuela today, where Hugo Chavez's successor, Nicolas Maduro, recently won the presidential election by the smallest margin in the last 50 years. According to the AP, Maduro "faces a difficult economic panorama of rising inflation and slowing growth" caused in part by Chavez's "lavish social spending financed by an unprecedented oil boom."

For me, however, the social and economic ramifications of Venezuela's political history are neatly summed up by this kidnapper's comment. What we value as a society is reflected in the prices we place on goods and services. And Venezuela is certainly not alone in paying people in the teaching profession poorly.

A comprehensive report called PISA, published in 2012, gives data on teachers' pay and a host of other education indicators for OECD (Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development) countries. The data are interesting if not particularly surprising. For example, Luxembourg pays teachers the most (nearly $100,000 per year), while the average annual pay in the Slovak Republic is roughly $13,000. (These figures, of course, do not capture cost of living differences that clearly exist in these countries.)

In the US, we pay lawyers annually between $120-150,000. Doctors earn between $156-309,000 per year. And yet the average salary for a teacher is $45,000. Surely this is a sign of the lack of rigorous standards combined with lack of equal respect for the teaching profession?

Anecdotal evidence seems to suggest that professor pay is to some extent correlated with the robustness of a country's political and economic health. In Hungary, for example, Corvinus University is having substantial difficulties fulfilling its salary obligations to professors. Hungary is also dealing with a government in the process of rewriting its constitution and eliminating checks and balances - with little opposition.

Of course, this correlation is not scientific, but I have a feeling that how we treat our teachers and professors is directly related to the strength of our governments and societies. While teachers' unions should not shield its members from the consequences of unprofessionalism or ineptitude, we also need more advocates for high standards + high pay in teaching. Otherwise, be prepared to look for more lessons from your friendly local kidnapper...

Monday, April 15, 2013

Reflections: Servant Leadership and Self-Giving

"Your work is to discover your world
and then with all your heart give yourself to it."

~ The Buddha

Last week, readying myself for another day at work, I listened to this interview with Adam Grant, a Wharton Business School professor and author. In his new book, he classifies professionals into 3 main types: "givers," "takers," and "matchers." Basically, the idea is that givers put others' needs and goals first, helping their colleagues succeed in work environments. Takers put their own goals first, using others as means to reach their own ends. Matchers try to maintain a balance of give and take in their interpersonal relations, keeping things on an even keel.

While any sociological breakdown of people into ideal types is bound to over-simplify a bit, I found Grant's research hopeful and reassuring. It also resonates with my own professional experience, working with a number of individuals who tend to be takers. Recently I've been feeling so tapped out. I wondered whether my approach - listening to others, taking time outside work to meet with staff and work through their concerns - is really beneficial, or whether it just leaves me feel like Atlanta after Sherman's march, a little plot of scorched earth.

Photo credit: artpunk

Grant has some practical advice for people who tend toward the giving end of the spectrum. First is to set clear boundaries and make priorities when it comes to who you support. Common sense, but hard to achieve in practice. In fact, balance and boundaries are only achievable by learning how to appropriately give to yourself - a subject I don't feel is adequately addressed or understood. And yet, I believe you cannot be a sincere and full-hearted "giver" without learning how to replenish your own well.

I read a wonderful quote recently by Maya Angelou who said,

"I do not trust people who don't love themselves and yet tell me, 'I love you.' There is an African saying which is: Be careful when a naked person offers you a shirt." 

I feel something similar applies to leadership, specifically "servant leadership" - Robert K. Greenleaf's term for the centrality of service within positions of power. Giving of yourself requires, first and foremost, love. And love of others begin with love of self. Not "self-love" in its narcissistic sense, but a deep affection and honour for your presence in the world. For the kind of service only you can offer. This is the soil from which true leadership can grow.

Several words I see associated with servant leadership are "custodianship" and "stewardship". Both words imply taking care of others rather than pure self-interest. But, again, we must learn to balance giving to others (altruism) with giving to ourselves (self-care). How can this balance be achieved?



One comment I found enlightening comes from John Adair, Visiting Professor of Leadership Studies at the University of Surrey and Exeter:
"Although it is impossible to prove it, I believe that holding firmly to sovereign values outside yourself grows a wholeness of personality and moral strength of character. The person of integrity will always be tested. The first real test comes when the demands of the truth or good appears to conflict with your self-interest or prospects. Which do you choose?"

In my own life, I feel I can deeply relate to this dilemma. I have chosen a professional path which has taken me from volunteerism and internships, to freelance journalism/research/teaching, to managing a small NGO focusing on social justice through media - none of which are very lucrative or stable careers. I have also recently moved countries twice, meaning I am away from friends and family, in a country whose language I don't speak - which may sound romantic and adventurous, but in reality is often doubt-filled and isolating.

At the same time, I feel so drawn to unheard voices from the margins of society that despite the struggle, I can't turn away from this road either. So - which do I choose? A truth that is tugging me on, or a personal reality that causes much internal questioning and stress?

One of my university mentors gave me some sage advice, which I go back to at times like this. Whenever you are faced with a stark choice between two seemingly competing options, he said, find another way. Reframe the problem. Step outside the duality, and seek some resolution in a truth that is both internal to you, and externally rooted in the world.



This internal/external grounding reminds me of Professor Adair's advice to hold firmly to "sovereign values outside yourself." This could be taken to mean adherence to some moral code of conduct. Or it could be allegiance to a political ideology. It could mean belief in religion. Or being guided by the values of your family and social group.

I think there is some danger inherent in any of these "sovereignties" because they are all, in some sense, subjective, and can set people against each other. At the same time, I am a firm believer in human beings as open systems. Unlike closed or isolated systems, which have limited to no interaction with ideas or energies beyond themselves, humans are in a constant state of (ex)change and (hopefully) growth. Yes, our bodies, and even our brains, may deteriorate over time. But there is an essential part of ourselves that, if given enough space and nourishment, continues to learn and expand.

No doubt this part of ourselves is guided by certain sovereign values - values I believe are universal, not culture-dependent. It would take the combined brainpower of people a great deal smarter than me to parse out exactly what these values are, but I feel they do exist.

Even if we can only vaguely agree on what these values are - honesty, respect, generosity, compassion - they are essential in crossing the divide between servant leadership and self-giving. Because people who stand firm within themselves, who are grounded in values beyond self-interest, are those human beings who do not seek from others what they cannot learn or practice themselves. They are not "takers" because they have internalised Plato's maxim:

"Be kind: everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."

Moreover, they witness and respect the soldier doing battle within themselves. They are kind to themselves, forgive themselves, because they recognize their own struggles and do not make the war harder by a barrage of friendly fire.

These are the leaders - the people - I look up to. They are not perfect. They may even be embattled at times. But they are people who have learned to find moments of peace within the war. They stand firm within themselves as they step out into the world. And they do their work gladly, with all their hearts.



Thursday, April 4, 2013

Democracy Rewired: Can Societies Achieve Creative "Flow"?

"Repression is not the way to virtue. When people restrain themselves out of fear, their lives are by necessity diminished. Only through freely chosen discipline can life be enjoyed and still kept within the bounds of reason."

~ Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

I used to discount the generalization that East Europeans can be a tad pessimistic, Americans overly optimistic. But now I am beginning to see why the dispositional divide.

It is hard to have a sunny outlook when basic cares require so much daily effort, so much frustration and anxiety. Then there are the political and economic ills - governments fanning the fumes of nationalism, ethnic tensions, spiralling debt. Sociologists like to separate the individual from the collective, but the two interrelate in subtle and profound ways.

An ageing population, a social memory that includes both Nazism and Communism, and a definite disillusionment with democracy - all these nourish apathy and a general mentality of "Just keep your head down and soldier on...."

People belittle the "power of positive thinking" as a throwaway cliche. With books like "The Secret" and self-help manuals laying out 10 easy steps to a better you, is it any wonder optimism has a bad reputation?

I find it interesting to the point of irony that one of the fathers of positive psychology is, in fact, a Hungarian, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. Actually, I don't know why I find it surprising. Humans thrive in the heart of paradox. If there is a society that gravitates toward the negative pole of existence, there will be those observant individuals within it who see in pessimism the seeds of engagement and passion.

Csikszentmihalyi coined the term "flow" - a state of complete creative absorption in one's work. As a writer, this is the rare bird we stalk through all the distractions and blocks that make up the bulk of writing life. But I'm beginning to wonder: is "flow" a purely individual phenomenon? Or is it possible for societies as a whole to achieve something akin to this creative experience?



I don't think I have yet discovered a city or town that has an overall feeling of flow - of active, organic engagement. But I know this feeling can exist collectively because there are places in every city that foster this outlook: certain universities, centers of cultural exchange, some holy places, and always parks and nature reserves.

It is these places that encourage people to be mindful of themselves and their surrounding that expand flow beyond the individual. In this way, I think flow is related to meditation, but in its active, workaday form. Or perhaps flow is just another face of meditation. In the West at least, we tend to put meditation into this little box of sitting still with your eyes closed, breathing. But meditation is so much more than that.

Meditation is the ground of life. It enables us to access those meanings and insights that make all the struggle worthwhile. And flow is what happens when meditation meets action - individual and collective - in the real world. Imagine it! "Democratic flow". Or "meditative democracy." I searched Google for the terms, but no luck.

I am fully aware of how "squishy" these phrases sound. Words like flow and meditation and - horrors! - spirituality strike many people as worse offenders than even positive thinking in their associations with pop psychology and pseudo-mysticism. I do not come from any of these camps. In fact, I actively reject most of their premises. I studied subjects that honest my allegiance to scepticism: international relations, social science, and analytic philosophy.

And yet there is an unexamined closed-mindedness among many experts in these fields that makes me cringe. Why do we value things simply because we can measure them? Why are "utility" and "realism" the watchwords of a functioning society? Why are schools still run like factories? And why do we still boil everything down to money and power?

Until we start questioning the shaky premises upon which society rests, not even a desperate attempt to maintain the status quo will prevent growing stagnation and decline (not to be too prophetic about it).

We speak about freedom, but what does it mean? Freedom from external repression is one thing. But freedom to act and serve is another. Both types of freedom are missing in many parts of the world - and brutal experience of the first can leave people wary or incapable of the second.

This is what I observe in Central and Eastern Europe today - a legacy of external repression that has hampered the growth of an internal drive to engage and change. Of course, this is a generalized tendency, and not specific to many open, active individuals. But it has certainly made me think about new ways of constituting our social and political systems that puts more emphasis on grounding our actions in reflective awareness.

I believe societies can achieve a form of creative flow. In fact, I believe that until we do, disillusionment with democracy is justified.