Lessons from the University

My undergraduate days at SUNY at Binghamton remain relatively cloudy in my memory, but a few highlights stand out. First is the image of a streaker running through the lecture hall, with four hundred young adults instantly having to decide to either gawk or close their eyes as the naked man crossed our line of sight. 

A second lesson was an intense class discussion on the incest taboo, how across all cultures, only one behavior was totally forbidden – the act of incest. In my naiveté, I thought there would be other universal taboos (murder, rape, etc.), but, at least according to that anthropology professor, that was not so. 

A third message I’ve wondered about was a statement by another prof: there is no such thing as true altruism. At nineteen, the word was new to me, but Merriam-Webster defines it as “unselfish regard for or devotion to the welfare of others.” The instructor’s point was that no one does anything for another person without having some kind of selfish motivation. Students suggested examples of altruistic actions, but the instructor countered with reasons why the behavior was of benefit to the self. 

Mow an elderly neighbor’s lawn? You do it to improve the neighborhood, thus increasing your property value. You do it to receive applause for your good heart or to earn brownie points in your system of religion. You do it because your mother taught you to help others, and you feel better (or less guilty) when you follow her counsel. Maybe . . . 

Here’s a related topic, as reported by Hanna Rosin. In November, a man with a certain loyal following raised a question on social media. Might it be possible that at least some of the migrants who wanted to cross the border between Mexico and the U.S. were good people, not criminals? Could his followers put themselves in the shoes of “the fathers, the mothers, the children” who came to escape violence? Rosin described his question as a call for a truce grounded in empathy, the kind you might hear in a war zone, say, or an Easter Sunday sermon.” 

The response was immediate and angry, and within days, the initial questioner was forced to leave Facebook, as his suggestion of seeing another perspective was dismissed as heretical – or worse. Ironically, the writer was not a saintly Mother Teresa, calling us to care for our neighbor. No, this was militia leader Ammon Bundy, known for his involvement in the Bundy Standoff in Nevada in 2014, and the armed occupation of Oregon’s Malheur National Wildlife Refuge in 2016. Rosin recognizes what Bundy failed to understand: “Americans these days seem to be losing their appetite for empathy, especially the walk-a-mile-in-someone’s-shoes Easter Sunday morning kind.”

One more concept. A recent Facebook discussion focused on expressive individualism, when the highest good is individual freedom, happiness, self-definition, and self-expression. One of the question raised asked about alternative practices. If we, for moral and/or faith-based reasons, reject that premise, is there an antidote?

I’m not sure how the streaker fits in, but the concepts of shared moral values (cultural taboos), the presence of altruism, the practice of empathy, and the choice to reject expressive individualism seem to me to be vital components of the kind of society I want to live in. As a community, as a culture, are we forsaking a care and concern for the other? If so, who will we become? 

One of the suggested alternatives from the Facebook discussion has resonated with me: We reject the worst of expressive individualism by moving the measuring stick for flourishing beyond ourselves and our immediate family, and expand it to the flourishing of our neighborhood, our city, and our world (thanks Nate, for the discussion, and Bill, for the response). 

Here’s another way to think about this. Writing in “How Then, Shall We Live?” Wayne Muller asks, “What is my gift to the family of the earth?” Forty-some years ago, one young man’s answer was to run naked through the lecture hall in expressive individualism. From my perspective, altruism and empathy have provided more lasting value to the family of the earth.