David Morris*
.
That America has become a coarser, cruder nation is undeniable. Baseball stars
spit in umpires’ faces. Kids curse teachers. Motorists regularly give each other the
finger. Talk shows have become contact sports. Politicians -- well, don’t get me started
on politicians....
Last year a nationwide poll in U.S. News and World Report found that 9 out of 10
Americans consider incivility a serious national problem. The fear of encroaching
indecency has penetrated so deeply that even Iowa is launching a statewide program to
foster understanding of the need for civility in daily life.
Conservatives like William Bennett date the vulgarization of America back to the
1960s and the widespread rebellion against authority. He blames the phenomenon on
liberals who refuse to impose standards of moral conduct. The result? Widespread
nihilism.
Bennett’s definition of incivility tends to be limited to the use of four letter
words. To my knowledge, he has never criticized fellow conservatives for vulgarizing
America’s political discourse. Yet for many conservatives, vicious attacks on Democrats
and liberals have been the key to gaining power. In 1994 Newt Gingrich’s political
action committee, GOPAC, sent Republican candidates a list of suggested words that
would allow them to “speak like Newt.” Among the words recommended to describe
their Democratic opponents were “sick, traitor, corrupt, bizarre, and cheat.”
Republicans swept to power that year. Last October, as the well-mannered campaign of
Bob Dole and Jack Kemp was sinking in a sea of politeness, the right-wing Washington
Times (Oct. 11, 1996) announced that civility was for losers. “What we need is not
civility, but a higher standard of vitriol.... There is nothing wrong with name-calling as
long as it is done with a flair,” the editors insisted.
On the other side of the political spectrum, incivility is viewed as the outraged cry
of the powerless. Benjamin DeMott, writing in The nation (Dec. 9, 1996) sees incivility
as “a response to an unendurable surfeit of corruption.” He approvingly quotes professor
Randall Kennedy speaking at a forum on civility at Yale University: “If you’re in an
argument with a thug, there are things much more important than civility.”
Me? I’m glad you asked. I agree with both Bennett and DeMott. Bennett is right
when he says that the routine use of obscenity and visual and verbal violence undermines
our sense of community and debases our culture. DeMott is right when he says that
gentility can mask a multitude of sins. The well-ordered and mannerly world of the
1950s granted only limited rights to blacks and women and gays. Those who asserted
their rights were viewed as “uppity” and crude.
But in the final analysis, I take a some what different perspective on the incivility
debate. As James Morris notes in The Wilson Quarterly (Autumn 1996), the old rules of
etiquette always have been less important than “instilling a sensibility of concern and
regard.” The current incivility debate seems limited to a discussion of how much regard
we should have for others’ feelings. We need to broaden the debate to take into account
the more important issue of how much regard we should have for others’ lives and
welfare.
Washington Post etiquette columnist Judith Martin’s latest book, Miss Manners
Rescues Civilization (Crown, 1996), sees the downfall of civilized societies coming from
a lack of courtesy. Economist Lester Thurow worries in his latest book, The Future of
Capitalism (Morrow, 1996), that American society could collapse from a lack of
community. “No country not experiencing a revolution or a military defeat with a
subsequent occupation has probably ever had as rapid or as widespread an increase in
inequality as has occurred in the United States in the past two decades.” Thurow raises
the important question of whether massive and widening inequality is itself a sign of
incivility.
America’s economic productivity continues to rise and the stock market sets new
records. Yet the prospects of those at the bottom of society have deteriorated: Tens of
millions of us are one paycheck away from the streets, and millions more lack health
insurance. Doesn’t this constitute a disregard for the sensibilities of others?
People like William Bennett point to sports stars like Dennis Rodman and Albert
Belle as profiles in incivility. I prefer to put the spotlight on a star of the business world:
Albert J. Dunlap. Chainsaw Al went to Scott Paper Company and in 20 months fired
11,200 workers, one third of the workforce. By the time he left in 1995, shareholders had
seen the price of their stock rise 225 percent. (Al himself pocketed more than $100
million.) He did such a good jog, in fact, that Sunbeam hired him to make its modestly
profitable company into a very, very profitable company. In July 1996, when Al was
hired, Wall Street applauded the move by sending Sunbeam’s stock up 50 percent even
before he showed up to work.
The title of Dennis Rodman’s best-seller, Bad as I Wanna Be (Delacorte, 1996),
reflects this disdain for our moral sensibilities. The title of Dunlap’s new book, Mean
Business (Time Books, 1996) reflects his disdain for the welfare of the community. Who
is more vulgar? Who is more dangerous?
.
*Utne Reader. March-April, 1997. pps. 15-16.