Now that we have made it through the empiricists, rationalists, romantics, and existentialists and the manner in which they were all reacting to streams of thought in each of the other traditions, let’s step back and begin to examine some of the implications of their understandings of reality and human nature. The two primary streams we are going to trace out are the empiricist-inspired utilitarianism (which Gergen calls “modernism) and romantic-inspired expressivism (which Gergen calls “romanticism”) which are the guiding frameworks to much of our language today.
Utilitarianism assumes that people are primarily self-interested and hedonistic (attempt to gain pleasure and avoid pain). The goal, or the good life, in this framework is to find the greatest amount of pleasure for the least amount of pain. The manner of finding the greatest good is to enter into a rational calculus of costs/benefits analysis that will reveal the outcome. This is what underlies Gergen’s emphasis on modernism’s “form follows function”, that practicality (e.g. finding the balance between pleasure/pain or in this case cost and functionality versus aesthetic beauty) trumps everything else. If you read Ch. 2 in Gergen, he does a nice job tracing out the history and effects of modernism. Romanticism on the other hand, as a reaction to the empiricist’s and rationalist’s emphasis on rationality and “machine” metaphors, focuses on the uniqueness and “natural” impulses that lay deep within the individual and provide animation and passion for life. Here the greatest good is to live a life full of expressive feeling and passion that does not bend to the force of some type of rational calculus. Expressing one’s “true” “deep” “inner” self is what gives life meaning (e.g. think about Robin William's character in "Dead Poets Society" and the philosophy of "carpe diem").
While Gergen sees modernism as usurping the role of romantic constructions of the self, I find his analysis a little too linear here. Instead I think what we see is that both traditions work their way into the language and manner in which we understand ourselves and that both rely on a common understanding of the solitary individual that is the final arbiter of morality (here I am relying on an argument made by Robert Bellah and his colleagues from their book “Habits of the Heart”). Gergen’s conversational examples at the beginning of Ch. 2 give us a sense of the way that we all use these two traditions in our own day-to-day language. Here is where Bellah and his colleagues come in. They were interested in the primary “language games” that American’s used and the implications of those languages on how Americans understood things like civic duty, marriage, religion, and friendship. They concluded from their analysis of interviews with over 200 middle-class Americans that there were four “language games or moral traditions” being used by Americans. Two of these were pushed to the fringe and two were predominant. The moral traditions that they saw as not being used by many were what they termed the “biblical” tradition and the “republican” tradition. The biblical tradition displayed a commitment to the traditions and authority of the bible, whereas the republican tradition displayed a commitment to the community and the nation state (e.g. JFK’s quote, “ask not what your country can for you, but what you can do for your country"). What is common to both the biblical and republican traditions is a belief and a language that views authority or morality as being outside the individual and which commands the individual’s obedience.
The two predominant moral traditions that informed American’s understandings of the world and themselves were termed “utilitarian individualism” and “expressivist individualism”. As you can guess, utilitarian individualism reflected a language focused on benefits to self while expressivist individualism reflected a language focused on one’s feelings and expression of those feelings. Think about the way these latter two moral traditions inform us…how often do we enter into some type of cost/benefit analysis about whether we should take this class or be friends with this person? Or, how often do we make decisions just because it “feels right” or like people because of the way they make us feel inside? The problem that Bellah and his colleagues point out is that there is no way to understand commitment within these language systems. Why should we vote or participate in civic life if there is no tangible benefit to us or if the costs outweigh the benefit? Why should we stay in a marriage where we are not benefiting more than what we are “paying” into the marriage? Why should I stay in a marriage if I can’t express myself fully or feel like my “deep” feelings are brought out? We can even see how these two moral traditions impact Christianity. Should we continue with a ministry if it is not “effective”? What if I don’t feel “spiritual” during my time with God? Can we “worship” if there isn’t praise and worship music to create the right kind of “feelings”?
What I find illuminating about this analysis by Bellah and his colleagues is how much our language is influenced by individualistic assumptions that begin to effect the way we can understand relationships and commitments to things that may not necessarily benefit us in the tangible ways these traditions demand. What the biblical tradition does is to provide a language and understanding of reality that allows us to move beyond ourselves. I understand my marriage differently when I don’t describe it or think about it in terms of benefits or the opportunity to express myself, but as a sacrament that is to reflect the covenant that God makes with humanity (however hazy this reflection may be). This allows a “thick” “rich” descriptive language that shapes my reality different. Faithfulness rather than effectiveness becomes the goal and suddenly fidelity, patience, love, forgiveness, mercy, and grace enter into the relational picture in ways that utilitarian and expressive language cannot make room for because of the limits of radical individualism. I hope this makes sense and helps you as you read Gergen and attempt to make sense of this material.
Utilitarianism assumes that people are primarily self-interested and hedonistic (attempt to gain pleasure and avoid pain). The goal, or the good life, in this framework is to find the greatest amount of pleasure for the least amount of pain. The manner of finding the greatest good is to enter into a rational calculus of costs/benefits analysis that will reveal the outcome. This is what underlies Gergen’s emphasis on modernism’s “form follows function”, that practicality (e.g. finding the balance between pleasure/pain or in this case cost and functionality versus aesthetic beauty) trumps everything else. If you read Ch. 2 in Gergen, he does a nice job tracing out the history and effects of modernism. Romanticism on the other hand, as a reaction to the empiricist’s and rationalist’s emphasis on rationality and “machine” metaphors, focuses on the uniqueness and “natural” impulses that lay deep within the individual and provide animation and passion for life. Here the greatest good is to live a life full of expressive feeling and passion that does not bend to the force of some type of rational calculus. Expressing one’s “true” “deep” “inner” self is what gives life meaning (e.g. think about Robin William's character in "Dead Poets Society" and the philosophy of "carpe diem").
While Gergen sees modernism as usurping the role of romantic constructions of the self, I find his analysis a little too linear here. Instead I think what we see is that both traditions work their way into the language and manner in which we understand ourselves and that both rely on a common understanding of the solitary individual that is the final arbiter of morality (here I am relying on an argument made by Robert Bellah and his colleagues from their book “Habits of the Heart”). Gergen’s conversational examples at the beginning of Ch. 2 give us a sense of the way that we all use these two traditions in our own day-to-day language. Here is where Bellah and his colleagues come in. They were interested in the primary “language games” that American’s used and the implications of those languages on how Americans understood things like civic duty, marriage, religion, and friendship. They concluded from their analysis of interviews with over 200 middle-class Americans that there were four “language games or moral traditions” being used by Americans. Two of these were pushed to the fringe and two were predominant. The moral traditions that they saw as not being used by many were what they termed the “biblical” tradition and the “republican” tradition. The biblical tradition displayed a commitment to the traditions and authority of the bible, whereas the republican tradition displayed a commitment to the community and the nation state (e.g. JFK’s quote, “ask not what your country can for you, but what you can do for your country"). What is common to both the biblical and republican traditions is a belief and a language that views authority or morality as being outside the individual and which commands the individual’s obedience.
The two predominant moral traditions that informed American’s understandings of the world and themselves were termed “utilitarian individualism” and “expressivist individualism”. As you can guess, utilitarian individualism reflected a language focused on benefits to self while expressivist individualism reflected a language focused on one’s feelings and expression of those feelings. Think about the way these latter two moral traditions inform us…how often do we enter into some type of cost/benefit analysis about whether we should take this class or be friends with this person? Or, how often do we make decisions just because it “feels right” or like people because of the way they make us feel inside? The problem that Bellah and his colleagues point out is that there is no way to understand commitment within these language systems. Why should we vote or participate in civic life if there is no tangible benefit to us or if the costs outweigh the benefit? Why should we stay in a marriage where we are not benefiting more than what we are “paying” into the marriage? Why should I stay in a marriage if I can’t express myself fully or feel like my “deep” feelings are brought out? We can even see how these two moral traditions impact Christianity. Should we continue with a ministry if it is not “effective”? What if I don’t feel “spiritual” during my time with God? Can we “worship” if there isn’t praise and worship music to create the right kind of “feelings”?
What I find illuminating about this analysis by Bellah and his colleagues is how much our language is influenced by individualistic assumptions that begin to effect the way we can understand relationships and commitments to things that may not necessarily benefit us in the tangible ways these traditions demand. What the biblical tradition does is to provide a language and understanding of reality that allows us to move beyond ourselves. I understand my marriage differently when I don’t describe it or think about it in terms of benefits or the opportunity to express myself, but as a sacrament that is to reflect the covenant that God makes with humanity (however hazy this reflection may be). This allows a “thick” “rich” descriptive language that shapes my reality different. Faithfulness rather than effectiveness becomes the goal and suddenly fidelity, patience, love, forgiveness, mercy, and grace enter into the relational picture in ways that utilitarian and expressive language cannot make room for because of the limits of radical individualism. I hope this makes sense and helps you as you read Gergen and attempt to make sense of this material.
