My America | Liminal Man

I live and work in Saudi Arabia. I work for a Saudi company, and my colleagues are largely Saudis supported by a mix of Egyptians, Pakistanis, Indians, and other people from this side of the world.

My boss, however, is an American, a convert to Islam who moved here a decade ago and has lived here ever since. He is black, the son of a minister, and a product of private catholic schools.

We have many differences, but as much or more in common, and we have developed a real and enjoyable friendship. A few days ago at the end of work we headed over to a burger joint—of which there are many in Riyadh—to share a meal and conversation.

On the way, I asked him: What is your ideal country? If you could build your Utopia, what would it look like?

The impetus for the question was the thought that it would be fun to start some kind of NGO together with him. We share many of the same concerns for the world, have between us strong entrepreneurial potential, and we enjoy working with one another. Why not try to make a difference together?

But the immediate counter-thought was, “But how much do we really have in common? Do we really have a shared vision for the world?” The old and familiar distrust of Muslims reared its head within my heart.

And so I asked him the aforementioned question.

The ensuing discussion lasted all through dinner and the ride back and was both enjoyable and fruitful. It was also thought-provoking for both of us as he would propose ideas for his country, and I would counter with an opposing view—sitting in the devil’s advocate position I find so comfortable.

“Would you allow pork? Bikinis? Dissent? You say you want freedom and openness, but you also want a comfortable culture conformable to your own religious views. How do you make those two things work together, and where do you draw lines?”

It was a new line of inquiry for us, and as he traced his path through the thought experiment, he had to double back several times as we uncovered contradictions inherent in his (and mine—and everyone’s I think) natural desire to have a free and friendly society where everything goes just as we would like.

At the end, he turned the tables on me. “So, what about you? What’s your ideal country?”
Fortunately for me in the moment, we were out of time, and I did not have to take my turn under cross-examination; but the question lingered in my mind.

And the events in Charlottesville, and their continuing aftermath, have given the question an added urgency.

“We are so divided. We hate one another so much. What’s to stop America from tearing itself apart? If I could fix everything, what WOULD I do? What is my vision for America?”

What, indeed.

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My earliest conceptions of what America is and ought to be were shaped by the loyalties of my parents.

My father was born in 1924 and served in the US Army Air Corp from 1942 to 1946. His dearest friends and family—the grey and wrinkled men and women we would drive halfway across the country to see for those warm and memorable family reunions—were members of The Greatest Generation. From them I learned to love God, gentleness, the farm, home cooking, Ronald Reagan, and the American veteran.

My mother, on the other hand, is almost a Baby Boomer. Born in Houston in 1944, she grew up in Louisiana and rural East Texas and, later, rural California. Her mother—my grandmother—was a joyful, generous, hard-working Pentecostal and a single mom. From that stock I absorbed a deep commitment to Evangelical Christianity and taking the Gospel to the nations.

Together these influences placed me firmly in the religious right in the days when Ronald Reagan and the rest of that generation who began their public service by defeating the Nazis were completing it by bringing the Soviet Union to its knees.

America was to me the Christian land of the free and home of the brave that saved the world from Nazis and Soviets, and mine was a happy childhood.

It was only later that I began to understand that there is more than one side to the American story. Bill Clinton’s election—as narrated by Rush Limbaugh—was the first shadow. The threats to America just weren’t outside, but also inside too. America was more than one thing; the picture became more complex.

It became even more complex as I began (and have continued) to learn that it isn’t entirely clear who the good guys actually were—or if there even are any. I will not forget the day my senior year I came home with the news that I had a date for one of the school dances. The news that my date was black was not well received by my father. At all. The moment ended with me in shock and my mother in tears.

It seems my father was a smoothly professional, almost completely disguised, racist. To this day, the realization is very sad to me.

For my views on race were not shaped by my father, but my mother. My mother—and her mother before her—saw no color. They only saw souls, and they taught me to see with the same eyes. One of the earliest songs I learned to sing was, “Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. Red, brown, yellow, black, and white, they are precious in his sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world.”

My loyalties were never based on skin color.

They were, however, strongly cultural. I gave not a thought if you were black or white, as long as you kept your pants up properly around your waist. And if you sagged your pants, I cared not if you were white or black; I looked down on you.

It has taken me a long time to realize my cultural prejudices for what they are, and to see them in the context of our multi-cultural America where there are many views on what family life, marriage, sexuality, gender and other cultural cornerstones should look like. I have been forced to come many steps from my happy, safe childhood, and none of them has been welcome; I think my heart will always rest in Mayberry, even as my mind learns to embrace diversity.

———————–

So, what is my ideal America?

Given the world as it is, and given the realities of human difference, and given the wide spectrum of human beliefs and practices, what kind of America do I wish for?

The core moral issue I wrestle with when considering this question is the physical coercion implied in law and the enforcement of law. All laws rest on violence. No matter the statute, at the end, it is the threat of physical force that underpins its enforcement.

If I drive too fast, I get a ticket. If I ignore the ticket, I get a bigger ticket. Then I get a suspended license. If I ignore that, I get arrested. If I resist that, I am physically attacked and compelled to submit. If I do not submit, in the end, I will probably die.

This chain of enforcement that ends in Death underlies the very concept of Law.

So when I consider what I want in and what I want out of my ideal country, I recognize that the only agency available to enforce those selections is the boot, baton, and gun barrel of governmental force. And that makes for weighty deliberation.

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This is a list of things I would see in my ideal America, broken up into two categories, the first a list of core philosophical principles, the second a list of specific policies.

Core Philosophy:

A healthy nation state is not simply a political entity; it is also a cultural or philosophical one. It is a place where people are bound together not just by law (i.e. the threat of force), but by shared values. Articulating a set of shared values in a multi-cultural and rapidly changing world is challenging, but there must be some if the nation is to be healthy. And it is the place of the nation state itself to promulgate those values among its citizens, and to defend them.

To demonstrate what I mean, allow me to quote at length from a 1982 article in the Boston College International and Comparative Law Review (sourced below; thanks Google!); it discusses the constitutional rationale in Germany for banning Nazi parties after the Second World War:

The political parties of the Federal Republic have a qualified constitutional status under Article 21 of the Basic Law, which provides that . . . “Parties which by their goals or through the acts of their adherents seek to impair or to do away with the liberal democratic order . . . are unconstitutional.” . . . The SRP [Socialist Imperial party] was the first party to be declared unconstitutional by the Constitutional Court. . . . In May 1951 the German federal executive branch found that the SRP “sought to impair the liberal democratic order,” and it initiated a party-prohibition before the Constitutional Court.

The Constitutional Court received abundant evidence that the SRP was an unabashed Nazi-front organization. . . However, one of the defenses raised by the SRP required the court to define the term “liberal democratic order” of Article [21]. The party argued that as a matter of constitutional principle, the form of government proposed by the SRP was as good as any potential government. This argument was powerful. If the “liberal democratic order” of the Basic Law was merely the blue print of a structure for national government, there could be no constitutional basis for rejecting the SRP’s alternative order, as long as the party could win enough popular support to establish itself and realize its goals democratically.

The court responded to the party’s argument by noting that the liberal democratic order of Article [21] was a “normative order.” . . . The court held the fundamental characteristics of this normative basic order to be:

“At the very least, respect for the rights of man as set forth in the Basic Law, above all respect for the rights of one individual to life and free development, the sovereignity of the people, separation of powers, the accountability of the government, administration according to law, the independency of the judiciary, the multiparty principle, the equal opportunity for all political parties, including the right to constitutionally acceptable development, and opposition.”

At least passive assent to these principles was a prerequisite to a party’s “participation in the formation of the popular political will.” The evidence against the SRP showed it to be actively hostile to most of these principles.

In Germany, democracy isn’t just a process for distributing political power, it’s a philosophical commitment put into action; and the duty of the Federal Government isn’t simply to guard the process [ensure free elections], but to guard the philosophy behind the process [ensure a commitment to equality that is the reason for free elections in the first place]. In this regard, the state embodies the people’s shared value system and becomes an extension of their will to bring this value system to life.

In America, on the other hand, the state seems to me to have been understood in opposition to the people rather than as an extension of the people. The state itself doesn’t represent values so much as it provides a space for people to pursue their own values. It is simply a referee tasked with ensuring a safe and open space for the values of citizens. The state exists–as the Declaration has it–to “secure” each individual’s right to pursue happiness in their own way. The state is not an agent of the people’s collective will; it is simply a platform for free existence.

It’s a fine distinction, but I think an important one. In my ideal America, the state would definitely be a German-style extension of a shared value system—a value system that unites the people, regardless of creed or color. The state would not be inherently value neutral, it would be value driven, and over time, the state itself would play a significant role in ensuring that the value system persisted through time with each new generation. Good citizenship would not simply a matter of neighborliness and loyalty to the state; it would be even more so a matter of loyalty to the shared value system that defines the reason the state exists.

This kind of prescriptive values talk comes very close to constitutional red lines in a country committed to the individual’s freedom to forge their own path, but I think a shared commitment to the values I have in mind is actually largely already in place and formalizing it would (hopefully) strengthen the kind of free, open community most of us want.

The Freedom of Thought:
Each human is independent in their own mind—free to agree or disagree, to believe or not believe, to be sane or insane. Not all thoughts are equally good or equally true, and while it is not the role of citizens or the state to compel thought on the part of others, it is the role of citizens and the state to search for and to advocate for the best thoughts.
The Centrality of Consent:
A central moral principle governing relations between people and relations between people and government is consent. The centrality of consent is to be woven into all law and jurisprudence.
The Equality of Justice:
All humans—powerful and weak, rich and poor, citizen and non-citizen alike—are to be held equal before the law. A society rightly prescribes unique benefits to those who carry the responsibilities of citizenship. Due process, a fair trial, and freedom of thought are not among them; these are the birthright of all humans. The law is to be applied equally. No one is above the law.
The Right to Privacy:
All people have a right to privacy—the right to control who has access to their thoughts and who has access to their words and actions in private spaces (“Private” in this context does not mean “privately owned”; it means “the personal domain of the individual inhabiting it.” A hotel lobby is private property, but a public space. A hotel room is the property of the hotel owner, but the private space of the room’s occupant who has hired it as such.) A right to privacy implies a distinction between public and private spaces–both in the real world and online.
The Commitment to Unconstrained, Evidence-Based Reason:
Unconstrained, evidenced-based reason alone is an insufficient basis for cosmological certainty, personal significance, or human happiness. It is, however, the best basis for shared decision-making in a consent-based form of government. The people and their state are committed to using and to promoting clear, free, fact-based thinking.
The Primacy of Listening:
Shared-decision making in a consent-based form of government depends on compromise and good will between parties who disagree strongly. Listening well to one another is essential for a flourishing spirit of compromise. We are all humans together; and most of us want the same things. If we listen patiently, we often will hear the human voice in the monster across from us. The best way is to listen well before we speak.
The Need for Respect in Disagreement:
It is the right of those with whom we disagree to think as they will. As citizens together, we must commit to respecting one another in disagreement. There is a right way to have an argument, and there is a wrong way. We will not dishonor and subvert the noble act of reasoned disagreement by injecting violent or rude language out of passion. Respect of this kind means enduring the ill-temper of others with patience (for we too, have said regrettable things when angry) and controlling our own temper when speaking to others. (The British House of Commons does a pretty good job at this, although they’re getting worse.)
The Inviolability of Parental Rights:
As adults, humans usually think as they were taught to think as children. Children are by nature malleable and trusting, and gaining control of how other people’s children are taught can be—and has been in many times and places—an extremely powerful form of cultural suppression and violence. We disclaim this method of appropriation. We affirm the right of parents to raise their children as they will while also affirming the duty of citizens and of the state to patiently hold before all our shared vision of openness and mutual respect.
The Reality of Evil:
Evil is real, and for the good of citizens and the state, it must at times be fought–even with violence. However, not all enemies are evil, and not all evil is external. The use of violence is opposed to free thought and consent, and as such can easily be evil. Because violence is inherent in law-enforcement and in defending national sovereignty, those engaged in these activities must be carefully trained and kept closely accountable for their actions, while also supported and honored for their necessary work.
The Necessity of Failure:
Despite the buffers provided by technology, the world fundamentally remains a hard place, it’s only surety being the inexorable mercilessness of death. In this context, strength of mind and character are great assets, and strength is developed by striving against resistance; perseverance is learned under trial. Humans—athletes, students, business people—must carry the risk of failure so that they will be forced to strive for success. Failure is painful; failure is a grief. But a world without failure is a world without the greatest goad to strength and success. It is the duty of citizens and the state to help those who fail to try again, better equipped for success.
The Moral Imperative of Sustainability:
To live in a manner that requires the suffering of others is immoral. As a society, our patterns of action and consumption should be engineered so as to be practicable by all humans for all time. This principle does not preclude unequal living; sustainability does not require that everyone live the same. It requires that no one live in a way that requires another—whether now or in the future—to suffer. Systems that require suffering can never last. Fair trade, fair and complete waste management, and preservation of wildlife and wild spaces are all part of a sustainable society.
The Universal Obligation to Serve:
Citizenship brings the benefits of shared effort and support; it should also require shared effort and support. It is the duty of every citizen to spend two years in public service upon reaching the age of majority. It is the duty of every citizen to contribute to the well-being of all.

Specific Policies:
These are listed in no particular order. All of them should be understood as practical outworkings of the twelve principles listed above.

There would be no property tax on residences inhabited by the owner or their family or dependents.
Land use and development would be heavily regulated.
Seed DNA would not be subject to patent or copyright.
GMO food would require clear labelling. Labelling requirements in general would be strict.
A robust recycling program would be federally mandated.
Many uses of plastic would be banned.
Economic policy would be optimized to promote repairable and reusable products, not disposable ones.
The use of force internationally would require a declaration of war.
Our commitment to the UN would be restated, and we would push for UN reforms that would make the body more representative.
Civil marriage would not exist. There would be no implied linkage between civil partnerships (which would exist) and a sexual relationship. A person could form a civil partnership with anyone. Marriage would be a religious and cultural institution, and polygamy would be completely legal in that context.
Adoption would be open to all suitable parents, regardless of creed or family structure.
Abortion after a detectable heartbeat would not be legal.
There would be reparations for slavery and to native nations.
Public school teaching on origins would not be exclusively Evolutionary. The emphasis would be on teaching students three things 1) what data is available and what it shows, 2) what people believe and why, 3) how to think (not what to think).
“Being offended” would matter less. Being nuanced and clearheaded would matter more.
Microaggressions would not be the basis of any policy at any public institution. Good manners would be.
The death penalty would exist. Racial inequality in sentencing would not.
Police would be better trained and easier to prosecute.
All that NSA stuff Snowden leaked wouldn’t be happening.
Preserving freedom and preserving values would be more important that preserving safety and preserving wealth.
Pornography and the sex industry would be legal but carefully regulated to protect the rights and quality of life of workers. The idea of a sex industry is pretty far away on the spectrum from the idea of fair trade. People with better options don’t usually get into sex work, and a career in sex work is neither sustainable nor forward-looking. Former athletes can get into broadcasting and coaching. What can former sex workers do?
Drugs would be legal. Drug-influenced bad behavior would not be.
Copyright law would be reworked so that megacorporations couldn’t endlessly generate wealth off of old IP like Mickey Mouse. Creators would be protected. Their corporate heirs decades and decades later wouldn’t be.
Internet bandwidth would be a utility, and the net would be neutral.

I’m sure there’s more I should put, and I’m sure there’s ways in which my ideal America isn’t ideal at all. There’s probably many self-contradictions and much foolish idealism. I’m putting it out because I asked my friend the question, and I owe my own answer.

Tear it apart, and help me make it better. What’s missing? What’s stupid? What’s pointed in the right direction? What’s not?

Also, if you’re wondering about the specific rationale behind anything here, please ask. I have a rationale for most everything here, but this is long enough already.