How Moral Imagination Can Save the Day

I am delighted to be here with you, and to be part of this extraordinary annual convening of the citizen sector of Santa Barbara. And thank you Chuck Slosser for your inspired idea many years ago to bring this community of interest together. I do not know of any other place in the country that does it in this unique way.

Well I am so glad that Ron Gallo is going to join this conversation as maybe he can help figure out how moral imagination can save the day, which is the title of this talk. You might well wonder what such a subject is doing on a program when all the workshops deal with the new “era of scarcity.’ And even if you have a clue, you might wonder if you have any left, moral imagination that is, after being buffeted by the strings and arrows of this disastrous economy. Perhaps the Philanthropy Roundtable in its wisdom wanted to create a little interlude, a respite from the fact that we seem to be between a rock and a hard place. So let us see what we can do to shift the level of discourse, and perhaps lift your optimism. It will not be easy.

A week ago, after my last class, one the best students who is getting her masters in global and international studies came up and she said – “I have one more question – you have been in philanthropy for a long time, are you still hopeful about the world? The problems seem so huge.”

I was taken aback, and very moved. This was a serious question from someone considering this field as place to spend her working life - in fact her plans are to join an NGO in Vietnam, where her family is from, working on water reclamation from the effects of Agent Orange.

My student’s question was eerily familiar.

The World We Want book is based on a series of conversations with what I called ‘practical visionaries’ who are doing some amazing and visionary things, but its premise is that the  world is precariously balanced between a disastrous downward spiral and the potential for the resolution of major social dilemmas. Over the past two years, I have asked a score of audiences at conferences not unlike this one the very same question my student asked me – How many of you in the room wake up most days optimistic about the fate of the world? And how many of you wake up pessimistic? Well the answer from perhaps 5,000 people has been split right down the middle between despair and hope. This was in the main before the stock market free fall. Well I am not going to ask that question today because I am afraid of the answer. The extenuating circumstances are dire.  

But if I were to ask another question - why you are here today – I would not be afraid of the answer.  We are drawn to community in a broad public sense, what Peter Senge calls "a field of shared meaning."  We have that sense sitting in a congregation where the liturgy, the prayer and the song, provide meaning.  We have those feelings at a Bruce Springsteen concert when the singers' passion for social justice becomes animate within the music. And we have that yearning when faced with crises.

You are drawn to community because it a safe place with kindred spirits who share similar values. Community makes you feel part of a whole. Community meets our human need for identity, accountability, and security - the three things that UCSB’s Mark Jurgensmeyer has identified most at risk in a world of globalization.[i] Community, along with love, is the major antidote to the ‘loneliness of being.’ I think the work that I do, and that most of you in this room do, is because we do not want to be alone.

Pico Iyer has written of the fast-moving mobile contemporary life where a "new kind of soul is being born out of a new kind of life" asking  "What are the issues that we would die for? What are the passions we would live for?"

Those are hard questions and even harder to avoid.  You cannot answer those questions simply as a passive observer. You have to become an actor. You have to become part of a community of interest. It is the moment when, the “walk-by” becomes a “walk-in.”

It is the moment when moral imagination is not abstract but grounded in something fundamental to our humanness.

So far so good, but the elephant is still in the room. There is increasing evidence that there will not be an economic ‘recovery’ – everything is going to be ‘reset.’ Words like reset,  fundamental, and transformational, are being used by economists, business leaders, commentators and government leaders to indicate that “what is going on”[ii] is a huge disruption of business as usual for the American, and the global economy.  Disruption is the term used when entrepreneurs introduce their innovations and in the process disrupt/destroy existing business models/industries. This disruption, however, was not of any entrepreneurial vision or design, but has been thrust upon us with astonishing vengeance.

In these unprecedented circumstances, what will be philanthropy’s response, what could it be, and how do we avoid what economists call ‘moral hazards’ - a term that has taken on unpleasant currency these days. “Moral hazards” refer to actions intended to solve a problem, but which in actuality too often make matters much worse. It is the slippery slope – what Robert Frost identified as – “Yet knowing how way leads on to way.” Some of us learned long ago that there are always unexpected consequences to the programs we execute, to the grants we make (or do not make), but those consequences have not typically been framed as moral issues. But it seems to me that is what they are today.

Nonprofit organizations, NGOs, and foundations are especially susceptible to moral hazards because they operate at the very intersection of social dilemmas and appropriate responses – tricky ground in the best of times.

In the short list of philanthropy’s moral hazards two stand out.  The first is when we violate the prohibition to do no harm.  The second, arguably far larger, especially in a time of crisis, is when a nonprofit organization or a donor does not stand up and be counted when it is important to do so. If we do not respond we establish a pattern of behavior – one which once established often becomes irreversible – that sends a message that either we do not care, or do not care enough, or do not have the courage of our convictions.

So far, the chorus of concern emanating from the field has had some predictable themes. Nationwide, nonprofit institutions and organizations, and foundations, reeling under the impact of reduced income from all sources, are trying to figure out how to maintain mission critical programs and services with less - and that is what today’s conference primarily addresses. While difficult, and painful, these steps don’t go far enough.

The bigger question to me is whether we can use this crisis as a kind of jujitsu that lands us as a society in a better place. Can we “shift the paradigm from loss to gain, from preservation to creation?” [iii]  I think we can.

When I asked my friend Dr. Lowell McClellan, who is here as a trustee of the Lake Cachuma Reservation, what moral imagination meant to him, what came first to his mind were how we are overwhelmed, subsumed really, by examples of moral failure. Of how the financial crises we are immersed in was aided and abetted by highly imaginative investment bankers and lenders that became “a kind of endemic, pervasive tolerance for deception and corruption…..”[iv] and then exacerbated by excessive greed all around. What began as economic crises for the global society has morphed into ethical crises.[v]

Lowell McClellan is hardly alone in feeling the despair in what has become an immense void of who in the world can we trust. In essence, where does the moral conscience of our community lie?

I actually have an answer for that – the moral conscience of this community either lies within us - those in this room being a metaphor for all the other good people in Santa Barbara, and across the country -  who share the aspiration for a better and more just world, or, it doesn’t lie anywhere.    

“Philanthropy and social action through nonprofit organizations are the primary vehicles people use to implement their moral imagination, and advance the moral agenda of society.”[vi] That is so because the civil society, what we call the third sector, the citizen sector, is where moral learning takes place every single day – every hungry poor child who is fed, every homeless family that is housed, every sublime performance of music, every woman in Bangladesh who received a small loan and now makes a living for her family, every pristine wilderness preserved, every scholarship awarded to a deserving student, all add to the moral fabric of our lives. The story of philanthropy is the story of people coming together in voluntary associations around an expression of moral imagination.  These actions collectively are a primary and indispensible means by which society’s moral agenda is crafted.

Think of the work that you do as part of open source energy field. The term open source comes out of the technology world, but when applied to the social sector, user and consumer adaptation translates to engaged and involved citizens active on all levels, and whose voice is everywhere. The civil society has the potential to make moral learning faster and more historically accurate in our lifetimes, and if we, “make it so”[vii], what an amazing legacy that would be to leave our children and grandchildren.

“Moral imagination is energized and expanded as we remember and reflect on it and those experiences in which we emphasize with others and find ways to meet their needs and take action on their behalf. When such moments become part of a group they become part of a community’s moral heritage.”[viii] 

In the US eleven million people work for third sector nonprofit organizations, and three million more volunteer. And yet, amazingly, we haven’t even scratched the surface of the potential to engage our communities.

American do hold strong convictions about issues of great importance to the nonprofit world, but few act on their beliefs – a recent major public opinion poll found that 70 percent of Americans care deeply about a number of causes, such as protecting the environment, fighting poverty, and improving schools, but less than 20 percent had done anything to better those causes in the past year. On most issues, just one in ten Americans had put time or effort toward improving the problems they cared about. For example, 73 percent of Americans expressed concern about the environment, but just 10 percent had made a recent attempt to help. Even smaller percentages had volunteered to feed others (9%), assist poor people (8%), or help homeless people (7%).

These conclusions from a survey[ix] conducted in late 2008 of 10,000 people were not new news to me. In the 1970s, I was on the board of a half-way house in Newton, MA for what were then called ‘alienated youth,’ and we were in one of those endless evening board meetings lamenting our lack of success in getting new supporters and board members, when Norman – a smart and sometimes wise guy piped up with a classic line – “where the heck  - he actually used stronger language - is the rest of the community, it’s always the same 10 percent who show up at all the meetings.”  True 35 years ago and true today. Perhaps the numbers are better in Santa Barbara because of the sheer number and vitality of nonprofits, but the fundamental opportunity - to significantly build and expand the community of interest beyond the one we have – is the same.

The poet W.H. Auden wrote:

So many try to say Not Now

So many have forgotten how

To say I am, and would be

Lost if they could in history[x]

That simply will not do today.

 This is what is called a market failure, but it is also a failure of our moral imagination – a failure to tell our stories in ways that are compelling. It is also an immense opportunity. 

Think of the work of philanthropy and nonprofit organizations is as a vast curriculum for society, and those of us who do the work, as faculty. I like that idea very much. It is consistent with the notion of open source philanthropy and it goes to the heart and soul of how one builds communities of interest. It tracks the TPI experience, and that of community foundations around the country - donors give more when they understand the issue, and realize that they can actually make a difference - and it is why the most successful fundraising is always based on the programmatic substance of the organization.    

If you want an example of the power of moral imagination, look at the way President Obama has used the grand narratives of American history – and key figures like Washington, Lincoln and King. Obama the story teller tapped into powerful currents of feelings, and touched the deepest aspirations of millions.  Obama’s words when he announced his campaign, at the very site of Abraham Lincoln’s “House Divided” speech, were very intentional:

“It was here, in Springfield , where I saw all that is America converge – farmers and teachers, businessman and laborers, all of them with a story to tell, all of them seeking a seat at the table, all of them clamoring to be heard. While we come from different places, we all share a common story.”[xi] I do not offer this as partisan support for our new President, but as an illustration of moral imagination at work in very practical terms that we all can relate to. The truth is every great movement in human history has been driven by people coming together in voluntary associations around an expression of moral imagination – true when slavery was abolished by England in the 1880s, true for the women’s suffrage movement, for the movement to end child labor, for the Civil Right movement, and true today for the environmental and social justice movement.  

Moral imagination is “the bank and capital of the ages, the normative knowledge found in revelation, authority and historical experience”[xii] which offers as touchstones the great works of art and literature on questions of morals, politics, and culture.  The central metaphor in the prose poem in your conference packet The Gift of Creativity is how the making of great art and the doing of great philanthropy and social action is remarkably similar. They both emanate from the yearning of the individual to find meaning in life, to be a good person, to find ways to say something, to do something about things we care deeply about. The poet may write a poem. The non-poet makes other kinds of gifts. They may be ideas, influence, credibility, access, money or personal commitment for an hour or for a lifetime career.

It is what we call philanthropy.

Moral Imagination is “an ability to imaginatively discern various possibilities for acting in a given situation and to envision the potential help and harm that are likely to result from a given action.”[xiii] 

There are three interrelated skills needed – the first is to be creative and to be able to imagine the possibilities and consequences of our actions. Disengage and step back, and become more deeply aware of one’s situation. Imagine new possibilities. Think anew in ways that might be totally different than what you had previously envisioned. 

The second skill is discernment – the ability to evaluate the impact of those actions both the original context and the new possibilities one has envisioned, and the possible moral conflicts or dilemmas that might be the outcome.

The third skill that leads to moral imagination - the one where President Obama excels - is to translate that into a story that others can understand and respond to. And many of you in this room are very good at that, but we all need to get better. 

But moral imagination is not pie in the sky. The practical visionaries in The World We want book were all different, but these actors had a common persona. Call it that of a seeker, someone who balances a deep belief in the human capacity for caring and for improving world conditions, with a healthy skepticism of oversimplified solutions.

This is precisely a time in human history when people seek deeper understanding and meaning and are willing - even driven - to plunge beneath superficialities to find essences. Creating a moral compass has never been more important.

Can any of this actually save the day for you and your colleagues? Yes I think it can, but there are some major preconditions.  To earn trust means that every nonprofit organization needs to walk the talk with integrity of purpose, and integrity of process and treat those who they serve with dignity and respect. And every private foundation needs to deeply listen to the community, and acknowledge its responsibility to the larger society.

Here is my short list of how to do just that:

   Deal with, and acknowledge fear – the deer-in-the-headlight kind of fear that freezes intelligent response. Talk about it, stare it down.

A clean slate – sweep everything that you do now off the table. Take a deep breath and step way back and assume nothing exists except a blurry vision. In essence, it is as though you are starting from scratch. Reinvent the way you pay for, and do the work.

Look around the corner. Make wild scenarios. Do complete end runs around the prevailing best practices – create multiple parallel tracks.

Reassess your resources, especially those you have not valued enough. Think networks, contacts, the power of convening and access that you, your colleagues and board have. Make those calls you haven’t made in years, pull out all the stops – be shameless in the use of your cache to further the work.

Going alone is even more foolish than before. Subsume your ego. Collaborate and cost-share on a scale that was previously unimaginable. Cross domains, tear down silos between what you do and others with whom you had never imagined sharing services, and jointly serving the needs of your community of interest.

Put endowment capital to work.  Make mission-based investing integral to program. Think hard about whether spending down is actually a capital investment in renewed sustainability. 

Realize that the most influential ‘body of gods’ that need to be overcome, in addition to funders and government policy makers may be the ‘best practices’ with the field itself, or your board, the staff, and within you!  Resist to your core – “that won’t work here” and “we tried that before” and “we never do that.”

Grit your teeth. This is going to be hard. Funders need to be objective, honest, and caring. Nonprofit boards need to be the same. 

Renew your vows. The passion you feel, or once felt, for the work that you do, is central to the exercise of creative moral imagination. The centrality of philanthropy to the making of a better world is the heart and soul of why you are an actor on this stage. Make a poem of it.

And here is poem about the critical ingredient that can make it so – it is called Will.

Will

It’s a matter of will

This game of life

Is inner rather than outer

Conception is nice

But doesn’t express will

While execution   oh yes

No prescription here

Yet focus drives

Closure

Organizations are built

Survive and prosper

Based on will one or multiple

Governments fail from lack

Fortunes rise and fall

And great art is made by force of

You won’t find will in resumes

It isn’t always noisy

And often lies deep

Obsession while not will

Is part of the intensity

Which is a precondition

The ah ha components are

Passion and huge ambition

All over a good idea

Will unromanticized

Along with love

It is our most powerful

[i] Mark Jurgensmeyer in Global Rebellion – Religious Challenges tot eh Secular State, From Christian Militias to Al Queda

[ii] “What is going on” is the question that theologian Richard Niebuhr has been asking  for decades

[iii] From Barry Dym - Director - The Institute of Nonprofit Leadership and Management, affiliated with Boston University School of Management.   

[iv] Rushworth Kidder’s new book The Ethics Recession: Reflections on the Moral Underpinnings of the Current Economic Crises

[v] Ibid R. Kidder  

[vi] Robert Payton and Michael Moody in Understanding Philanthropy - Its Meaning and Mission, Indiana University Press, 2008   

[vii] “Make it so!” was the famous dictum in Ezra Pound’s essay in the same 1922 edition of Poetry Magazine that published T. S. Elliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock and the first review of James Joyce’s Ulysses

[viii] From The Moral Imagination and Public Life: Raising the Ethical Question, Thomas E. McCullough, Chatham House Publishers, 1991  

[ix] Porter Novelli conducted this survey as part of a series called Porter Novelli Styles as reported in The Chronicle of Philanthropy, February 6, 2009  

[x] W. H. Auden, “Another Time” 1939

[xi] Rom OrthodoxyToday.org – Obama and the Moral Imagination by John Couretas

[xii] Ibid R. Kirk 

[xiii] Johnson, M., Moral Imagination, Chicago: University of Chicago Press (1993)

[xiii] W. H. Auden, “Another Time” 1939

[xiii] Rom OrthodoxyToday.org – Obama and the Moral Imagination by John Couretas

[xiii] Ibid R. Kirk 

[xiii] Johnson, M., Moral Imagination, Chicago: University of Chicago Press (1993)