Most political comment focuses on current situations, ignoring the broader social and cultural currents that flow into them. A recent article by Paul Kelly in the Australian was welcome for taking a larger view. It has the virtues and limitations of such writing, and one crucial omission.
Kelly makes the case that the decline in Christian faith made evident in the recent Census is in large measure responsible for the widespread loss of trust in the political system throughout the West. He argues that the eclipse of faith has led to the loss of shared values in society found in earlier generations. It reflects itself in the growth of narcissism and the exaltation of individual choice and individual rights. To these qualities can be attributed the fragmentation of politics and the mistrust of institutions and political parties in the West.
Kelly raises important questions, not least whether and how social cohesion and a public ethic can be nurtured in societies where Christian faith has become marginal. This issue has engaged philosophers and theologians for 200 years and remains pertinent to current debates about citizenship.
Kelly is right to acknowledge gains as well as losses for society in the emphasis on individual freedom. It has encouraged movements to remove discrimination on the basis of race, religion and gender, making these political as well as ethical questions.
This success, however, suggests that there is continuity as well as discontinuity in the relationship between the moral principles of Christianity and 'progressive' values. Christian individuals and groups — Martin Luther King for example — often sponsored movements to liberate vulnerable minority groups from discrimination on the basis of their identity. In doing so they were inspired by Christian values commended in their churches.
This example illustrates the inevitable limitations of broad brush arguments such as those that Kelly makes. Lack of trust in politics and institutions, for example, is not new. From the Roman Empire to contemporary China any authorities who do not ensure an adequate supply of bread to their citizens can expect to meet distrust, unrest and probable replacement.
Nor can societies easily be characterised by large generalisations. The wartime generations of soldiers whom Kelly describes as the most amenable and modest were often deeply alienated from their governments, and after the 1914 War were seen as potentially seditious by British politicians. Women's experience of wartime employment, too, had a major part in animating movements for gender equality.
The narcissism that Kelly highlights, too, is matched by altruism among today's young Australians. Cultural movements and their intellectual currents cannot easily be arranged in straight lines with firm edges. They are subtle, comprise interwoven and often conflictual strands, and wriggle like eels.
"Like the Roman mobs deprived of their bread, some have turned on the political parties that have allowed this to happen, some have sought witchdoctors, some have found scapegoats, and others have opted out."
My major criticism of Kelly's argument is that it neglects more immediate and notable reasons for the present loss of trust in political institutions throughout the West, namely the discrediting of economic liberalism, the most noxious expression of individualism in contemporary society. According to this economic ideology the good of society is defined by economic growth, and that economic growth is furthered by individuals competing economically with minimal government regulation. Human worth is measured by economic success, and unfettered competition benefits the whole of society. This outlook was promoted by institutions, business and governments.
This promise, of course, was always a con. Unregulated competition, whether in economics, sport or life, leads to the powerful and wealthy becoming more powerful and wealthy and others becoming more marginal. Governments that accepted its promise were led to neglect their responsibility to ensure that the making of wealth benefits all their citizens, particularly the most vulnerable among them. Instead they vilified and punished the economically vulnerable. Australians need only to think of the 2014 Budget. Ultimately the gross inequality and self-interest that resulted has made those disadvantaged unable or unwilling to contribute economically, so putting under pressure continued economic growth.
In the West people have recognised that they have been conned by the institutions, business and media that have benefited from and promoted this ideology, and that the governments they trusted to act fairly have colluded in increasing inequality. Like the Roman mobs deprived of their bread, some have turned on the political parties that have allowed this to happen, some have sought witchdoctors, some have found scapegoats in those of different races and origins, and others have opted out of the political process.
This situation has little to do with religious belief, much to do with greed. In the United States, certainly, those profiting from the ideology have worked hard to persuade some religious groups to collude with them and to browbeat church leaders into silent acquiescence. But Pope Francis is a more authentic representative of Christian values when he denounces the effects of gross inequality and insists that economics must serve the common good, particularly those most disadvantaged. An approval score that any politician would die for suggests that his path might be worth following by politicians of any religious or secular stripe who wish to remedy political alienation.
Andrew Hamilton is consulting editor of Eureka Street.