Is A Shared Life of Civility In Our Rear View Mirror?
Has the practice of “civility” been left behind? Though it has never been practiced as well as it should, it nonetheless has supported a system of social manners, without which it is difficult to live together. The etymological kinship between civility on the one hand, and civilization on the other, suggests that the former is essential to the latter. Likewise, shared roots of “civility” and “city” imply that the latter requires the former as its foundation. In the turmoil of recent years, it seems that we may be losing the habits by which we are constrained but also inspired to be civil. It gets worse: some argue that standards of “civility” are tools of oppression, arbitrary rules by which the dominant class keeps the subordinate class in check. As the argument goes, those who have not acquired habits of civility, sometimes as a consequence of their socio-economic status—or are unwilling to exercise them—are automatically denied a voice and a share in public benefits. This argument implies that the rules of civility are arbitrary; some may fear, however, that this is a descent into nihilism: if we abandon standards of good behavior what could conceivably replace them. As Southern writer Flannery O’Connor once quipped, “Bad manners are better than no manners at all.”
If we indeed have left civility somewhere behind us, is it possible to circle back and re-integrate it into our political, social, and interpersonal lives? At present our decline seems to be the ugliest in our ubiquitous social media, but in other forms of discourse as well, whether it occurs in politics, sports, or entertainment.
In her important and timely book, Alexandra Hudson thinks we can recover our social manners and calls us back to the centrality of “civility” in our common undertakings. Hudson is keen to distinguish civility from expressions of “faux civility” such as manipulative politeness, showy performance, and gaudy spectacle; for her, even Victorian manners get a bad press. Hudson is hopeful that a recovery of civility might override our selfish tendencies. The human condition, she observes, is a contradiction, capable of greatness and wretchedness. We live with a constant tension between sociability and egotism.
Accordingly, in this far-reaching book, the author approaches her subject in a variety of ways. Civil disobedience, for example, should be governed by civility, despite the inherent tensions and sharp differences such activity involves—She looks to Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr. as models. Civility, moreover, is as needed in the practice of hospitality as it is in business.
Especially insightful is Chapter Six, an extensive discussion of the basis and limits of equality, and the way in which civility is pursued while admitting our natural inequalities but respecting our shared moral worth. She exhorts us to teach and mold the young and old alike into a habit of civility. She warns, as have many before her, that democracy will not survive without the sinews and tendons of good manners undertaken within the sturdy skeletal framework of laws and customs. Admittedly, this is an ambitious book; perhaps at times too ambitious and Hudson seeks to subsume all social virtues under the concept of civility. Accordingly Hudson’s argument might be simplified and her book reduced by at least a quarter of its length and it would be more effective. Sometimes less is more.
Hudson concludes each section of her book with practical advice, much like the tips on manners her mother, “The Manners Lady,” has been providing for years. These guidelines do a great deal to bring civility to the home, to the workplace, and to the street. Though valuable, the guidelines occasionally seem trite, but such pedestrian habits may be the stuff of life: “Don’t offend your host;” “Public Figures: Don’t Lie, Tell the Truth;” “From time to time, reflect on what it means to be a human;” and, when you pass strangers “remember to look them in the eye.”
Most of Hudson’s philosophical references are fitting, whether they are isolated quotes to spice her discussion, or more extensive sections of her narrative; indeed, the book is well-researched and displays a breadth and occasional depth of learning. The use of Plato’s “Ring of Gyges” as a metaphor for ugly social media behavior enabled by anonymity is brilliant. In that story from Plato’s Republic, Glaucon challenges Socrates by persuasively arguing that if an individual could make himself invisible by means of a magic ring, his behavior would deteriorate.
Hudson begins her book by recounting her bitter experience in several different positions in Washington, D.C. At one point she found herself in the doleful halls of the monolithic and impersonal federal Education Department where she was dismayed by what she found: a world of hypocrisy, manipulation and deceit. So, she decided to fight fire with thoughtfulness and generosity, bringing home-baked goodies to work, remembering birthdays, and inviting her co-workers to cocktail parties or just a stop at the coffee shop. In retrospect she wonders if that was the best “tactic” for the political catfights in our nation’s capital. To be sure, there are limits to noblesse oblige. It may be that the best contribution she makes to the noxious environment of the Department of Education is her Chapter 11 on “Civility in Education,” in which she reminds us that education has traditionally put as much emphasis on character development as it does academics. Students must often be schooled in generosity, honesty, and thoughtful consideration.
For Hudson, civility is the ideal that will enable us to “overcome our self-love so that we might thrive with others.” The concept might best be understood in action: “[C]ivility promotes the virtue and integrity that enable us to get on well with others because it helps us develop a correct outlook on others and the world: one that takes personhood and basic respect for others seriously.”
But are the goals of this self-described “humanistic manifesto” possible without faith in something above us? It was J.R.R. Tolkien who lamented, “What a mess is democracy without religion!” Hudson seeks to urge us beyond our self-love. The Soul of Civility is populated with a wide range of references, some of them secular, such as Ralph Waldo Emerson, some with a religious connection, such as C.S. Lewis. All of them seem to be held in the same regard. But will civility alone suffice to “surrender our self-interest”? To be sure, Hudson warns us that if we do not regain our civility, our democratic experiment may be over. But civility is not simply a matter of choice: it has to do with moral formation for most that is most effectively undertaken in the context of the family and often with the aid of religious faith.
Yet, In Chapter 12 “Misplaced Meaning and Forgiveness, Hudson expresses a concern increasingly shared by many, namely, that politics has become a substitute religion for many. It is supplanting orthodox faith. When this happens, policy positions become articles of faith, fiercely held with religious-like zeal. And like religious beliefs, no compromise is possible; to do so would be heresy.
Hudson, in the tradition of Alexis de Tocqueville, has meaningfully addressed the rapidly declining state of American manners. Let us hope that The Soul of Civility will help us regain what we have lost before traveling too far to recover it.
Discussion Questions:
Have Americans become less civil? If so, why has this happened?
What sorts of practices can be encouraged to renew civility? What sorts of practices should be avoided?
Does civility scale well, or does it require more local attachments?
The Soul of Civility: Timeless Principles to Heal Society and Ourselves by Alexandra Hudson (St. Martin’s Press (2023)
Henry T. Edmondson III, is Carl Vinson Professor of Political Science and Public Administration at Georgia College.
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