Most of us, at one point or another, have stopped to consider who we are today, and compared ourselves to who we desire to be one day.  This is a great example of the philosophical tension between “being” and “becoming”.  In one sense, I’m not the man I was 10 years ago, nevertheless, I am the same man.  I survey my past and find many instances where I cringe at things I have done.  I’m not that man anymore.  I look ahead to the future and know that both joy and heartache await but I’m not yet the man I will be when I face those things – then I again, I am.  Confusing, isn’t it?!

Two of the earliest philosophers to wrestle with this question were Heraclitus and Parmenides.  Heraclitus is famous for the phrase “You never step into the same river twice”.  He argued that between “steps” into a river, both the river and you have changed.  In the the time it takes to place your left foot into the water, and then your right, the river’s composition changes, however slightly.  You are, at the very least, seconds older.  Heraclitus argued that everything is in a state of flux. “Whatever is, is changing”, he would say.

Makes sense, so far, right?  But this begged deeper questioning.  How can someone say I’m not real, because I’m changing?  It flies in the face of both common sense and experience.  Of course I’m real….right?  Another philosopher, Parmenides, made the claim that “Whatever is, is.”   R.C. Sproul summarized Parmenides’ argument by saying “Reality…to be real, cannot be changing.  Because that which is changing, never truly is.”  Let that tweak your brain for a while!  This dilemma – wrestling with the idea that if we, and the world around us, are constantly changing then we are never truly real – spawned entire schools of thought that believed the physical world is ultimately an illusion.  Striking a stark contrast, though, is the way in which God defines Himself to ancient Israel: “I AM” (not “I am becoming”).  To borrow terms from Aristotle, God is complete and full actuality.  Simply put, he is real and because He is real, he doesn’t change.  He has no need to grow to become more perfect in any area, since He is infinite, and infinitely perfect.  We, of course, are not infinite and we live as creatures ‘inhabiting time’ – so we are “beings” who are “becoming”.

This tension between ‘being’ and ‘becoming’ – and the ultimate question of ‘what is real’ took an interesting path for me recently as I was reading about John Henry Newman – an Anglican-turned-Catholic thinker, writer & priest (ultimately a cardinal) in the 19th century.  The memorial tablet at Newman’s death (in 1890) was inscribed with the words “Ex umbrus et imaginibus in veritatem” – "Out of unreality into Reality.”  While I’m honestly in no hurry, I do, though, often think about that “Reality” – and the deepest parts of me long to be as real one day as Newman is now.

I think a lot about leadership – what makes a great leader?  What ruins one?  Are leaders born, made, or some combination of the two?  Often over the course of my life I have been handed the compliment of being told I have leadership qualities.  But what does that really mean?  Since as far back as I can remember, I’ve loved to watch and understand people.  As a 15-year-old, reeling from the separation and divorce of my parents, my ability to understand others helped me overcome my natural inclinations towards mild introversion to become outspoken, bold, opinionated – but staying as likable as possible in the process (not always successfully, I might add!).  During those years I learned what I believe is one of the most important qualities for a leader to possess: the ability to admit you’re wrong and apologize.  I began to be amazed at how much respect someone was willing to give to you if you were simply honest, and how quickly it faded when you became defensive.  A good leader must possess the ability to admit they’re wrong, humbly apologize and take responsibility for their mistakes.

I’ve written before about discovering early on in life the immeasurable value of deep friendships.  As a result, leadership in my mind is inextricably linked to relationships and respect (the kind of respect that flows downhill).  No leader can be (nor is realistically expected to be) everyone’s best friend.  Making decisions that can affect so many lives is not an easy weight to bear – and it comes with it’s own version of loneliness.  However, good leaders must not insulate themselves from the lives of those they are responsible for.  If you want to be a good leader, then you must make every effort to remember that real people work for you, not numbers on a ledger, nor merely bodies in a cube.  They are real people with families, dreams, hopes, fears and yet-untapped abilities.

I once heard a man say “Authority flows to those who serve.”  As leaders, we serve those around us by enabling them to realize their goals and dreams.  The  best kind of “follower-ship” a leader can hope for is a fully-engaged-but-voluntary following by those who are endeavoring to be the best that they are capable of, with your company, department, church (or some other organization) benefiting from it in the process.  It’s a healthy symbiotic relationship.  This is not to say that other leadership styles don’t produce results.  Napoleon produced unprecedented results, until his maniacal arrogance blinded him to Wellington’s superior strategy.  A CFO I once worked for – brought in as a turn-around expert – successfully completed the turn-around and sale of our company.  However, he left in his wake an atmosphere of fear and contempt – as his style of explosive shout-downs and expletive laden rants were adopted by his underlings.  My departure from that company shortly followed.  A good leader delicately balances positional authority with the morale and support of those reporting to him, and seeks to inspire their support and buy-in to his vision as opposed to demanding it for fear of retribution.  As my father-in-law so wisely said, “Authority is like soap, the more of it you use, the less of it you have.”

If you are truly interested in becoming a good leader, I think you need to ask yourself if you could handle moving down the ladder as well as moving up?  It took about 2 years for me to learn this lesson.  Up until 2008, I had always moved “up”.  However, for many reasons, I hit a plateau.  The next natural step was another step “up” – and the CIO I reported to was offering a higher position.  But something wasn’t right.  It was as if the head coach was asking me if I wanted to move from quarterback to offensive coordinator.  More power and authority to implement things as I saw fit, higher pay, more prestige.  It had some tempting elements.  However, looking at myself in the mirror every morning, I knew that I was actually lucky I was even quarterback.  My knowledge of the ‘game’ was far from mature.  Instead, I sought a new team that was looking for a rookie quarterback to take a back seat to the arsenal of experienced ones, so that I could learn from those who’s abilities far exceeded my own.  A good leader knows when to not lead, and instead follow a better leader from whom they can learn.  A leader who holds tightly onto a position at the expense of their growth as a leader is no leader after all.

In part 1 of this series, I posed the question: is it really possible to be neutral on subjects like religion, politics & belief?  In that post, I briefly discussed the odd paradox that we endure daily as a result of the influence that relativism and logical positivism have had on our culture.  All belief is rendered equally true or equally meaningless by the ‘absolute’ of "’no absolutes” in relativism.  Yet, at the same time, claiming the backing of science is still one of the ultimate trump cards that can be played in any metaphysical, philosophical or political debate.

I think special attention needs to be paid to the desire we have to appear ‘objective by being neutral’ on contentious issues.  There is an underlying fear: if we admit to having any sort of bias or opinion, that somehow undermines our credibility and brings any contribution we make to the debate under suspicion.  The flipside is that we are expected to trust “neutral” voices without question.  Questioning those who claim to be neutral is more often met by name-calling (or some sort of political categorizing) as opposed to honest answers.  How did we arrive at a place where having an opinion and belief on a given topic disqualifies you from participating in a debate on that topic?  If neutrality were truly possible, how could two parties debate an issue on which neither of them held convictions?  There’s no real answer to either question – because neutrality in these contexts is a myth.

Today’s “notion” of neutrality is an outgrowth of the Enlightenment’s idea of the “state of nature” – the concept of what humanity was before (and would be like outside of) the existence of the state.  Many philosophers during that time period (like Jean-Jacques Rousseau) believed that man was neither good nor bad in this state, but that civilization causes humanity’s ills and vices.  The modernized version of this is that religion (or partisanship, or intolerance…{or insert belief system here}) has caused innumerable deaths through war and persecution, and that its influence should be marginalized continually until it’s altogether eliminated.  So, the postmodern ‘idyllic neutrality’ is a person devoid of religious conviction, since such convictions would make “objective” thought impossible.  This logic, however appealing to our post-modern minds, is flawed.

All action is driven by belief.  That belief may be in science, God, yourself or your political party leader.  You may believe something because someone told you, or because you examined the evidence firsthand.  You may believe that belief doesn’t matter – nonetheless it’s still a belief.  As my friend Steve Betz recently said, “There is a great line in the book (and film) "Contact" in which the religious counselor to the President asks Ellie the scientist "Did you father love you?" "Of course" she answers. "Prove it" — and she is left speechless.”

What about the arguments we hear around us today?  Evolution vs. Intelligent Design, for example.  The idea that the universe can be explained apart from the existence of some force or entity that exists outside of it is a philosophical stance (naturalism), not a scientific one.  Because of this, evolution finds itself as rooted in philosophical belief as many other worldviews.  This reality should be taken into account as we seek to understand the viability of either theory – since both make claims outside the realm of empirical measurability.  Take political “hot potatoes”, for example.  The shrill shouting match over issues like abortion and gay marriage are often tinged with phrases like “you ought not to push your morality on others”.  To which I have one question in response, “Why not?  You just did.”  If you feel that way, then your beliefs and your morality have compelled you to oppose anyone promoting a moral system that does not match your own.  How, then, are you any more objective, tolerant or neutral than the opposition? (And, no, I am not advocating the idea of me or anyone like me “forcing” my beliefs down anyone’s throat.)  Legislative action on either side of these kinds of debates is inherently biased by nature – because an action based on moral belief is being carried out.

I think part of why we esteem neutrality stems from our desire to keep the peace in culture where so many conflicting belief systems interact – we desire to be (and to encourage others to be) tolerant.  In my next post in this series, we’ll look at how the idea and meaning of ‘tolerance’ has changed significantly in the last few decades…

Is it really possible to be neutral?  When it comes to belief, science, religion, politics – does neutral ground really exist?  Our culture holds up the idea of neutrality as a paragon of virtue.  We indulge the idea so much, that we wish against hope that our politicians are telling us the truth when they proclaim that they are post-partisan.  Notice that it’s no longer enough to claim that we’re “non-partisan”; instead, in true Chomsky fashion, we tweak the language to say we’re post-partisan.

What’s at the root of our fascination with neutrality?  I believe that we want to be, and be seen as, reasonable.  Think about politics.  We’re bombarded with the 24/7-news-cycle-red-vs.-blue-shrill-argument-insanity daily.  The one who shouts the loudest, or coins the best slam – that neatly fits into a 15-second sound bite – “wins”.  Or so it seems.  More realistically, I think the “talking heads” are like actors who don’t realize the audience has long ago left them to applaud themselves.  The more polarized the argument becomes, the more most of us simply want to be the emotional baking soda to diffuse the acid of banal “gotcha politics”.  What about religion?  We see men fly planes into buildings, detonate themselves on buses, gun down abortion doctors, preach a ‘prosperity gospel’ that only enriches themselves – the litany could go on and on.  Our culture no longer remembers religion as the chief source of the values that led to our Republic’s unique version of freedom that had never been seen before in all of human history.  If we think of ‘devout believers’ today, a few ‘frightening’ stereotypes are bound to be in the top 10.  Who wants to trust systems of belief that seem to produce, at best, sycophants, and, at worst, murdering psychopaths?  Who wants to be dismissed from being taken seriously by association with such controversial ideas?  The one institution we’ve elevated to be the sole arbiter of truth – science – has proven to be as corrupted and driven by ideology as the others.  One only has to look at the continuing fallout from the “climate-gate” email scandal for a recent example.

It’s an odd paradox in the postmodern West that we simultaneously labor to be seen as “moderate” & “objective” while also adhering to an idea that truth has no absolutes.  Is it possible to be objective if there are no anchors in truth to pull against?  If there’s no standard to which we can compare our ideas?  In fact we often labor against giving truth any sort of finality, unless the ‘truth’ is claimed to be scientific.  Why this one caveat?

Logical Positivism.  A philosophy that found its roots in empiricism, Logical Positivism has had far greater influence on how the average person today views ‘truth’ than many people realize.  The central idea to Logical Positivism is that no proposition is meaningful unless it can be empirically verified.  That is at the heart of why, to this day, we elevate “scientific” truth above all else.  It doesn’t matter that subsequent philosophers have since debunked the central premise:  how can you empirically verify that the only meaningful propositions are ones that can be empirically verified?  Problem is, you can’t.  Regardless, the idea was incredibly popular in a modern-heading-into-postmodern society, and it took deep root.

The resulting cultural schizophrenia is an odd combination of relativism and logical positivism.  In ideological arguments, the person who can successfully portray themselves as “above the fray” and “open-minded” has won the moral high ground, and is, as a result, objective and neutral.  The ultimate trump card is to claim the backing of science.  “Belief” and “fact” are separated from each other, and this becomes the great non-sequitur of our day: that we can exist, first, in a ‘neutral space’, with only facts, and no beliefs.  I will show, in my next post, that the very notion that such a ‘neutral space’ exists, is loaded with belief.

I’ve mentioned Robert Cooper’s book “Get Out of Your Own Way” a few times in my recent blog entries.  I love the title of chapter 13: “Constructive Discontent Drives Growth”.  I don’t think any other chapter title could describe my life so well.  “Constructive discontent” means that you’re not satisfied to simply repeat past successes; instead, you seek out new ways, new paths.  Before I start to sound like a fluffed up motivational speaker, let me pull some real examples from my life.

Twelve years ago I worked for an ad specialty company – as their courier.  The owner found out I had a knack for navigating Adobe Illustrator to create image files for our embroiderers.  (Bear in mind I have zero graphic design talent – this was simple image editing!)  My good friends, Kyle Chowning and Shawn Stewart, were both involved with the burgeoning web/graphic design industry – and, though I wanted to learn about their world, I ruled it out, thinking I was simply too far behind to ever catch up.   But the healthy level of discontent that is constantly with me would not let me settle down into ‘easy’ paths and stick to job skills I knew.  I borrowed an HTML 4.0 book from Kyle, and after a couple of meetings to discuss web development, I dove into learning everything I could.  At my next job, working as a PC repair technician and logistics coordinator, I was quickly frustrated with rampant inefficiencies in data entry & research.  I created a department website internally to help me (and other co-workers) automate tasks and more quickly find answers to common questions.  While I was thankful for the success I’d had, I soon realized that the site needed more capabilities – but to deliver on new features I had to leave my fledging pursuit of web design to learn about web application development.  Each new door opened up more doors of information and exposure.  Within a year, I was developing database-backed applications using Cold Fusion.  Since that time I have consumed 40-50 technical books easily, accumulating far more hours learning about software development than I spent earning my bachelor’s degree.

Constructive discontent helped spur me on in the face of “you’re too far behind, you’ll never catch up to guys who’ve been doing this for years.”  Constructive discontent enabled me – a music major – to lead a team of 7 developers, nearly all who had degrees in Computer Science, a mere 5 years after I switched careers to software development.  Constructive discontent also helped make it clear when it was time to let go of the comfortable leadership position I had, leave working from home for 5 years, and go join a local software team with talent and leadership far exceeding my own.

A healthy discontent helps guard you against complacency and apathy.  It helps you cultivate the habit of asking “Is there a better way to do this?”  It abhors the idea of being a “big fish in a little pond”.  A constructively discontent person would rather serve on the greatest team possible than ‘rule’ in mediocrity.

Ah, but there are catches.  It is difficult to cultivate this kind of healthy discontent across a community.  As Cooper points out in his book, there are centers in the brain that thrive on routine and predictability.  Those parts of the brain will cry out loud to be heard, in an attempt to drown out the parts of you that want to take risks, try something new – take a leap of faith.  Because discontent breeds change, many people resist it.  Not all change is change for the better (pause, and consider that in light of current events!); it’s the right changes that we want to push for.  We must guard against being obsessive in our discontent, and the tempting aspects of making it blindingly personal.

My discontent is driven by a desire to learn more & to be a part of excellence.  Because of it I have learned more than I could’ve ever thought possible and formed some of the most rewarding relationships of my life.  Because of it, I never see the future as dull, but loaded with opportunities to learn more, discover more, and teach more.

Imagine soup lines stretching city blocks, spanning streets.  Americans – hungry, malnourished and without work.

Imagine the Department of Agriculture (DoA) – obviously worried about the situation – releasing information on four sample diets: a liberal, moderate,  minimum and emergency diet. 

Imagine the government announcing to the nation: “Figures show we cannot produce enough food for our population for a minimum diet, a mere subsistence.”

Now, with that “Great Depression” backdrop, consider the following:

“We had men burning oats when we were importing oats from abroad on a large scale, killing pigs while increasing our imports of lard, cutting corn production and importing 30 million bushels of corn from abroad…while Wallace [then Secretary of Agriculture] was paying out hundreds of millions to kill millions of hogs, burn oats, plow under cotton…” – historian John T. Flynn:

The DoA signed up around 1 million cotton farmers, and paid them $100 million to plow under 10 million acres of farmland.  Why?  To force up prices.  But the results were disastrous.  Economist Clifton Luttrell explained, “…a large portion of the American cotton crop was grown for export and a number of close substitutes were available.  Wool, silk, and other vegetable fibers…and a new and vigorous rival – synthetic fibers – emerged to take an increasing portion of the domestic and world fiber markets….”  The false shortage that government policies created simply drove the cotton business into the ground, and gave competitors a boost.

The government paid hog farmers to slaughter 6 million baby pigs.  California peaches were left to rot in their orchards.  Less than 1/10th was saved as food and used in relief efforts.

Why in the world did this happen?  Let’s back up a few years.  During World War I, American agriculture experienced increased demand, since European farms were devastated.  After WWI, American farms did not cut back so when the Great Depression hit, there were too many farmers cultivating too many acres.  Political support from farmers was important to FDR (and a big reason why he was elected in 1932), so he sought to enact policies that would help them.  Farmers lobbied for mortgage moratoria.  Congress authorized the DoA to restrict the output of food processors and began to tax them, giving the proceeds to farmers in return for reducing their acreage.  Were they successful in raising prices?  Yes!  However, they raised prices in the midst of deflation and millions of industrial workers being unemployed, and – ironically – the price hikes caused the farmers themselves to pay more for manufactured goods.  The aftermath ruined the small family farms – since many were unable to pay their mortgages, or make enough to live in a market the government had forced to contract.  The more acres you owned and kept out of production, the more subsidies your received from the government.  Sharecroppers were hit the hardest, while large corporate farms began to gobble up the smaller ones who could not afford to stay in business.  The very “forgotten man’” that FDR and the New Dealers claimed to be fighting for was trampled underfoot by their policies.  It’s no wonder that the Supreme Court ruled the Agricultural Adjustment Act unconstitutional in 1936.

These are wonderful examples of how well-intended ideas can wreak havoc when made into law without any consideration of their real-world impact.  Too often, government officials only assess the political impact.  A global market is a highly dynamic environment.  In order to have all the necessary knowledge to predict every possible outcome, and to know how each consumer in the market will respond, in addition to the ‘natural’ factors like drought, earthquakes, etc., one would have to be God himself to centralize control of prices, supplies and consumption and actually execute it successfully.  Yet, doesn’t it seem that our government is constantly infatuated with the idea that they can do the impossible?  The temptation to rely on technocratic solutions is a strong one, and officials often believe that they just need more of the right information to do it correctly.  An earlier post of mine explains that at some point, the brain can no longer absorb information, and attempting to do so makes it more difficult to make right decisions.  There are simply too many moles in this cosmic game of whack-a-mole for us mere mortals to presume we can beat them all down at once.

In my last post I discussed Benjamin Bloom and how Bloom’s Taxonomy can be a guide to helping us determine if we’ve truly learned something, as well as give us objectives in helping others learn concepts in such a way that they can understand, apply, analyze and improvise them.  Throughout Bloom’s career he sought to better understand what factors led to students excelling and achieving the objectives of their curriculums.   In his book “Developing Talent in Young People”, Bloom demonstrated that famous high-achieving adults were rarely considered child prodigies.  The difference “was the kind of attention and support those individuals received at home from their parents…they realized goals born of guidance rather than raw genetic capacity.  Attainment was a product of learning, and learning was influenced by opportunity and effort. It was then, and is now, a powerful and optimistic conception of the possibilities that education provides.”  In other words, Bloom argued that environment and not genetics was the biggest factor in helping a student reach their potential in learning.

The type of environment necessary for reaching full potential matters a lot.  In 1984, Bloom published an article entitled “The 2 Sigma Problem: The Search for Methods of Group Instruction as Effective as One-to-One Tutoring.”  In short, 3 learning environments were compared:

1. Conventional – roughly 30 students per teacher, periodic tests given.
2. Mastery Learning – roughly 30 students per teacher learn the material in a classroom setting (like above) .  However, the tests (like those in the Conventional class) are used to give feedback which is immediately followed by corrective procedures and ‘parallel formative tests’.
3. Tutoring – Usually one (sometimes 2-3) student(s) learned the material from a good tutor.  Tutoring instruction was “followed periodically by formative tests, feedback corrective procedures, and parallel formative tests”.

These studies found that the average student in the tutoring group  was two standard deviations (or 2 sigma) above the average student in the conventional group – meaning that they were above 98% of the  conventional students.  (The average student in the mastery learning group was 1 sigma above the average student in the conventional group – or above 84% of the conventional group.)

In light of these findings, Bloom wrote:

“The tutoring process demonstrates that most of the students do have the potential to reach this high level of learning.  I believe an important task of research and instruction is to seek ways of accomplishing this under more practical and realistic conditions than the one-to-one tutoring, which is too costly for most societies to bear on a large scale.  This is the ‘2 sigma’ problem.”

I had three immediate reactions to Bloom’s statement.  First, I am more determined than ever to be heavily involved in tutoring my children regardless of whether we go with a home school, private school or public school approach.  Second, what does it say about our society that even the home cannot be a “safe bet” for one-to-one tutoring?  Regardless of the reasons, I am troubled that an entire value system has been built that deems it “too costly” for us to bear.  I wonder what the general attitude and level of education in our nation would be if families didn’t assume that education was something to be outsourced to an already overburdened and complicated public school system?  Third, it struck me in the context of workplace mentoring.  How often do I make myself available to be a mentor for junior software developers?  How often am I seeking out other senior developers or managers to mentor me?

What about you?  I’d love to hear your thoughts.  Do you seek out mentors in the workplace?  Have you been a mentor?  How did that work?  What helped it happen?  What undermined it?

How do we learn?  What constitutes comprehension of a particular subject?  What about mastery and the ability to improvise?  These kinds of questions trail about behind me constantly like the wake of a high speed boat.  I love to learn, and I discover more every day about how I best acquire certain types of skills.  Early on in life, I developed ‘tricks’ to memorize facts, and even entire pages of words.  My tactics were nothing more than brute force memorization, and I quickly abandoned them as I matured and became convinced that the real test of my knowledge and comprehension lie in whether or not I could extrapolate and improvise based on prior knowledge, and not simply repeat facts.

In a recent discussion with my sister (a school teacher with her Masters in Education) on this very subject, I learned about Benjamin Bloom.  In 1956, Bloom – an educational psychologist – proposed a structure to help identify the process of learning and assist teachers in formulating objectives to help guide students through each phase of learning, and not inadvertently mire them in the early stages of the process.  This structure became known as “Bloom’s Taxonomy” (of the cognitive domain).  In short, he theorized that learning moves through the following processes:

1. Knowledge – ability to recall data from memory.
2. Comprehension – ability to construct meaning from learned data, understand & interpret the facts.
3. Application – solving new problems by using the acquired knowledge in new ways.
4. Analysis – ability to examine and break down information into parts, identify causes & find evidence to support new conclusions.
5. Synthesis – compile information together in different ways to create new patterns & solutions.
6. Evaluation – defend conclusions and make judgments on the validity of ideas or quality of work.

In the 1990’s, Lorin Anderson – a student of Blooms’, came up with a “revised” taxonomy, which can be seen on the right below:

Bloom’s Taxonomy	Revised Bloom’s Taxonomy

So – how does this apply to us in our daily lives?  Two experiences from my work as a software developer come to mind.  Several years ago, the company I worked for hired a mid-level developer for the team I ran.  This person held two degrees in IT, had a good resume and a good attitude.  However, it became apparent early on that they were simply repeating steps they had learned in school, but didn’t understand development at a conceptual level – at least not enough to improvise and create without immediate supervision.  In a different instance, the company hired a junior developer.  It’s expected in these circumstances to have a lot of close supervision, but over the first year on the job this developer didn’t progress past the basic steps of following pre-determined instructions.  In both cases, the most damaging fact was that neither truly grasped that they weren’t strong enough on concepts; they thought reproducing someone else’s steps was sufficient.

Whether I’ve been in an official leadership position or not, I’ve tried to better understand how I can help people in those positions grow past “rote-based” work ethic into what I believe is not only a higher standard of excellence and quality of work, but also a much more fulfilling career.  I admit it’s difficult for me to relate at times.  For me, the first criteria I hold myself to on whether or not I truly understand a concept is if I can create something original using that knowledge.  In one of the cases mentioned above, the developer was motivated when they moved into an even more demanding consulting job.  In the other case, the developer was motivated when their job was a stake.  Their reactions are understandable, since motivational sources are as unique as personalities.  The members of the team I am currently part of are motivated by a love for learning (as am I).  I think this pays the highest dividends both for the individual employee and the company.  Employees who love to learn are rarely ever the kind of employees who need to be closely supervised (for wasted time or productivity), and they’re very likely to truly love what they do – which results in higher morale, greater productivity and cutting edge innovation.

At the inception of this blog, I had in my mind the kinds of things I wanted to write about – life, philosophy, economics, history, government, science, religion, being a dad, relationships – maybe even fashion.  No, really, NOT fashion.  Anyone in their right mind would see some of those topics and say “Jim, stay far away from religion, government & economics!”  After all, aren’t there a million ‘political’ or ‘evangelical’ blogs out there churning out arrogant, close-minded, misguided, irrelevant or sincere-but-easily-misconstrued content?  Yes.  There ARE.  I cannot answer for them.

But I have some confessions to make.

I often hesitate to truly ‘let my hair down’ in conversation for fear of experiencing the “listener’s-eyes-just-glazed-over-because-you’re-talking-about-boring-deep-subjects” moment.  Maybe this blog is the chance I have to let your eyes glaze over without me knowing it.  I have hesitated to discuss certain aspects of my faith on my blog, not at all because of wanting to hide it, nor due to lack of understanding.  Instead, I’ve had a difficult time because, for years, I’ve felt like the outsider in evangelical Christianity.  I’m the guy who would ask the “But what about…” questions.  I’m the proverbial burnt piece of popcorn in the fluffed up culture of pop-Christianity.  I have been deeply changed as I’ve lived the Christian faith.  But I’ve begun to relate to Bono when he sang “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for…”.  I don’t think he was complaining that what God has done for us isn’t enough.  I think he was complaining about us.  If I were to take some liberty with the lyrics, I’d say “You broke the bonds, and you loosed the chains, carried the cross and all my shame, all my shame.  You know I believe it…but what the heck is up with this crowd of arrogant, anti-intellectual, hide-in-their-safe-ghetto-culture Christians?”  I haven’t found what I’m looking for, though I feel closer today than ever.  And I’m not finding it in the emergent-meets-re-hashed-social-gospel-church either.  I’ve hesitated in discussing certain aspects of my faith because of the manner in which some Christians have discussed their faith with others in my life – all to often it’s gone so horribly wrong.  The mere hint that someone might be devout in their faith evokes all kinds of ‘fundamentalist-idiot’ stereotypes – and there always seems to be a Christian who’s willing to provide another piece of anecdotal evidence for the stereotype to live on.  But I’m done worrying about stereotypes.

I confess that I want to discuss how religion, culture and government interrelate, but have hesitated to do so before because of the immediate suspicion with which I would be greeted.  “Yet another Christian who wants to cram his beliefs down the nation’s throat.”  Good grief, no.  What I want to do is plainly make the case for what I believe, see how it stacks up against the alternatives and then you decide for yourself.  I confess that I will get passionate at times, maybe even YELL.  So what, we all do that.  What I don’t want to be is another shrill voice in the same old “red vs. blue” argument.  I can promise you that will not happen.

I confess that I want to commit a portion of this blog to journal some of my observations of evangelical Christianity, but it will be uncomfortable for both of us at times.  I promise that I will endeavor to be honest, fair and humble.  I confess that I think many readers might jump to conclusions about me.

I confess that I’m the quintessential geek when it comes to history, economics, science and philosophy.  However, I love the thrill of taking what might normally be boring ideas, and turning them into something interesting for discussion.  I promise I will try to do that.  I confess that I hope you keep reading even if I drop a few boring entries in every once in a while…

A couple of weeks ago I heard a fantastic speech given by one of my favorite college professors – Reed Arvin.  Reed has had an amazing life – writing, recording and producing for many years in the Nashville music scene, teaching music and technology (which I was privileged to be one of his students) and he currently writes full time.  (You can find out more about Reed here.)  During this speech, Reed made a number of great points – only a couple of which i will cover in this post….

Where does creativity come from?  Reed believes that there are three general ‘wells’ of creativity:

• Personal creative genius
• Value (seeing a need and creating something of value to meet that need)
• The “Z” – zeitgeist.

The focus of the talk was on the 3rd well.  “Zeitgeist” is a German word that is most often translated as “the spirit of the age”, and more technically translated as “the ghost in time”.  “Don’t confuse ‘trends’ with zeitgeist”, he said.  “Trends are the ‘what’, zeitgeist is the ‘why’.”

Speaking primarily to an audience of music industry types, Reed argued that artists who worked in conjunction with the “Z” were often the most successful in breaking into the mainstream – even though their artistic quality was often far less than their peers.  He gave several examples – a poignant one being the success of hip hop artists like 50 Cent at the height of the housing market.  The “Z” at the time was that we were ALL going to get rich together.  Why?  Well one reason was real estate.  Remember the days were flipping houses was cool, chic and everyone could get in on it?  Fast forward a few years, and the “Z” has shifted.  Our nation, still reeling from the after-effects of the housing crash and having watched the creation of more public debt than can be paid by the generations currently alive, has found out the hard way that mortgage-backed securities weren’t the ‘magic beans’ we were promised.  We’re beginning to look back to how our grandparents (and their parents) lived.  Frugality, simplicity, family – all are now bubbling up to the top in many respects; blogs like “Pioneer Woman” are immensely popular.  The word ‘depression’ is used now by many to either describe the financial woes we face, or relate our struggles back to the Great Depression in hopes of unearthing the wisdom of prior generations in how to deal with these hardships.  Reed used a striking picture comparison to drive this point home:

It’s no accident!  Ralph Lauren’s Spring 2010 fashion show is actually called “The Grapes of Wrath”.

Reed also made some salient observations about the show “Friends”.  “Friends” connected so well with so many people because of empathy.  “For the first time in the modern age, our friends are our family” he stated (paraphrased!).  Anyone who watched the show could either say that they related to the close family-like bond between friends, or they longed to experience the same sense of family and connection.  Reed even proposed that “Zeitgeist + Empathy = Popularity”.

It’s the idea of empathy that truly intrigued me.  Reed, having been involved in Contemporary Christian music industry circles for decades, made what I believe was his greatest point that night: one of the biggest failures in Christian media is a very heavy emphasis on earnestness instead of empathy.  “Earnestness asks ‘How can I get my message across?’  Empathy asks ‘How can I help my listener find themselves in my story?’”

Earnestness and passion aren’t necessarily bad – but empathy is what connects people.  It destroys the impersonal ‘caricatures’ that we often impose on each other.  It helps a Christian understand that it’s ok to show weakness or to appear as if they don’t have all the answers.  It stops us to listen, truly listen to someone else; it helps us get to know them as a real person.  It is the currency by which passion and earnestness can be exchanged without suspicion of motive.  What good is it for us to be earnest and passionate if we are not willing to genuinely celebrate and suffer with those in our lives?  If we’re not willing to listen, and only want one-sided conversations?