Do democracies need values? The question seems absurd in the light of photographs of American soldiers torturing and humiliating Iraqi prisoners. But the fact is that the advance of democracy historically entailed the erosion of shared values and the rise of individual autonomy. It presupposed moral agnosticism and a plurality of meanings, none of which are sacred or compulsory to all.
Democracy does nurture some common values, but they are overwhelmingly liberal values - in other words, individual rights trump collective obligations. For contemporary democrats, the fullest possible respect for the autonomous individual is, as Thomas Jefferson put it, "self-evident." But are civil, political, and human rights enough to ensure the strength and survival of democracies? Are today's democracies virtuous enough to rally the energies - including self-sacrifice - needed to defeat their enemies?
Such questions were never so urgent in the past, partly because fundamental democratic values were less abstract than they seem nowadays. Such values animated the fight against Nazi and Soviet totalitarianism, fascism, and military dictatorship; in their name, decolonization was achieved, and minorities gained equality and dignity. Democracy's values may be one-sided on behalf of individual rights, but this has also made them universal, legitimizing the struggle against oppression, wherever it is played out.
But in the world's most advanced countries, the promise of material prosperity that freedom made possible has long since replaced attention to and defense of fundamental democratic values as the cement of society. Western citizens do not rush to emulate the freedom fighters who built their world, despite celebrations, memorials, and the persistence of oppression.
The September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks in the United States allegedly changed everything - not only international relations, but the balance between rights and obligations that we long took for granted. In fact, the attacks, while surprising in their method, symbolic character, and scope, changed nothing. By themselves, they merely revealed the urgency of a fundamental reappraisal that has long been necessary.
What is the Western model of democratic development really worth? Some non-democratic systems seem to evoke deeper support, because they are based on religious or national communal solidarity, and because closed societies minimize doubt, drift, and criticism. Beyond fundamental freedoms and economic prosperity, do we have a specific civilization to defend?
Access every new PS commentary, our entire On Point suite of subscriber-exclusive content – including Longer Reads, Insider Interviews, Big Picture/Big Question, and Say More – and the full PS archive.
Subscribe Now
Ours is a civilization that accepts selfishness towards one's own family and group; that tolerates, with few exceptions, autonomy in moral matters; and that considers blasphemy, criticism of authority, and even civil disobedience fundamental freedoms. Our civilization, despite its drugs, prostitution, alcoholism, incivility, and vandalism, will always be better than rule by Mullahs or soldiers, because its social problems can be allayed, if never entirely eliminated, without changing the foundations of the regime. This is not true of totalitarian or fundamentalist regimes, because, to foster free societies, they must be deposed.
But if our civilization is worth defending, why is it that fundamentalists, of whatever stripe, have the most committed fighters on their side? Can we oppose them with anything but individual rights?
Two opposite temptations must be resisted. The first temptation, characteristic of frightened societies, is a rush to embrace so-called "traditional" values, with their implications of withdrawal, closure, intolerance, and even hatred. The second temptation is a purely military policy that fixates on physical strength without considering how to project greater credibility and fairness.
Of course, when enemies are already attacking, one cannot afford to ask too many questions. But when enemies are merely threatening, it is better first to assert legitimacy, and thus acquire some credibility at home and abroad.
To do so, there cannot be too wide a gap between our stated principles and our actual behavior. Nor can we claim, as we used to, that our values spring from God, nature, reason, or historical laws. Our values reflect the democratic debate itself, nothing more, and our defense of them must address three related fields.
First, we must update our social contract. France's ongoing public debate about secularism and legislation is an important effort in this direction, even if the debate could be better organized to demonstrate the link between principles, social and anthropological facts, and public policy. Such a debate should also involve education - its rules, objectives, and contents. In many countries, however, political parties find it difficult even to contemplate such debates.
The second axis of values concerns social justice and the environment. Issues linked to inequality, the distribution of wealth, and our exploitation of the natural world will become increasingly salient. This debate has not happened in the US, despite vague attempts at the beginning of the first Clinton administration; it has barely begun with Tony Blair's "Third Way" in the UK, or with Gerhard Schröder's variant in Germany. In France, the debate has stalled altogether due to bitter distributive conflicts, deep division within the Left, and the Right's absence of an economic and social vision.
What remains are the values linked to the global order, defense of which requires leading by example, not by narrow, legalistic initiatives aimed at crisis management or conflict resolution. This approach too often sacrifices long-term essential objectives to short-term concerns.
The fight for democracy cannot be selective. A desirable vision for the future of humanity must appeal to universally shared conceptions of justice and equity. We must all become freedom fighters.
To have unlimited access to our content including in-depth commentaries, book reviews, exclusive interviews, PS OnPoint and PS The Big Picture, please subscribe
Many countries’ recent experiences show that boosting manufacturing employment is like chasing a fast-receding target. Automation and skill-biased technology have made it extremely unlikely that manufacturing can be the labor-absorbing activity it once was, which means that the future of “good jobs” must be created in services.
shows why policies to boost employment in the twenty-first century ultimately must focus on services.
Minxin Pei
doubts China’s government is willing to do what is needed to restore growth, describes the low-tech approaches taken by the country’s vast security apparatus, considers the Chinese social-credit system’s repressive potential, and more.
Log in/Register
Please log in or register to continue. Registration is free and requires only your email address.
Do democracies need values? The question seems absurd in the light of photographs of American soldiers torturing and humiliating Iraqi prisoners. But the fact is that the advance of democracy historically entailed the erosion of shared values and the rise of individual autonomy. It presupposed moral agnosticism and a plurality of meanings, none of which are sacred or compulsory to all.
Democracy does nurture some common values, but they are overwhelmingly liberal values - in other words, individual rights trump collective obligations. For contemporary democrats, the fullest possible respect for the autonomous individual is, as Thomas Jefferson put it, "self-evident." But are civil, political, and human rights enough to ensure the strength and survival of democracies? Are today's democracies virtuous enough to rally the energies - including self-sacrifice - needed to defeat their enemies?
Such questions were never so urgent in the past, partly because fundamental democratic values were less abstract than they seem nowadays. Such values animated the fight against Nazi and Soviet totalitarianism, fascism, and military dictatorship; in their name, decolonization was achieved, and minorities gained equality and dignity. Democracy's values may be one-sided on behalf of individual rights, but this has also made them universal, legitimizing the struggle against oppression, wherever it is played out.
But in the world's most advanced countries, the promise of material prosperity that freedom made possible has long since replaced attention to and defense of fundamental democratic values as the cement of society. Western citizens do not rush to emulate the freedom fighters who built their world, despite celebrations, memorials, and the persistence of oppression.
The September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks in the United States allegedly changed everything - not only international relations, but the balance between rights and obligations that we long took for granted. In fact, the attacks, while surprising in their method, symbolic character, and scope, changed nothing. By themselves, they merely revealed the urgency of a fundamental reappraisal that has long been necessary.
What is the Western model of democratic development really worth? Some non-democratic systems seem to evoke deeper support, because they are based on religious or national communal solidarity, and because closed societies minimize doubt, drift, and criticism. Beyond fundamental freedoms and economic prosperity, do we have a specific civilization to defend?
Subscribe to PS Digital
Access every new PS commentary, our entire On Point suite of subscriber-exclusive content – including Longer Reads, Insider Interviews, Big Picture/Big Question, and Say More – and the full PS archive.
Subscribe Now
Ours is a civilization that accepts selfishness towards one's own family and group; that tolerates, with few exceptions, autonomy in moral matters; and that considers blasphemy, criticism of authority, and even civil disobedience fundamental freedoms. Our civilization, despite its drugs, prostitution, alcoholism, incivility, and vandalism, will always be better than rule by Mullahs or soldiers, because its social problems can be allayed, if never entirely eliminated, without changing the foundations of the regime. This is not true of totalitarian or fundamentalist regimes, because, to foster free societies, they must be deposed.
But if our civilization is worth defending, why is it that fundamentalists, of whatever stripe, have the most committed fighters on their side? Can we oppose them with anything but individual rights?
Two opposite temptations must be resisted. The first temptation, characteristic of frightened societies, is a rush to embrace so-called "traditional" values, with their implications of withdrawal, closure, intolerance, and even hatred. The second temptation is a purely military policy that fixates on physical strength without considering how to project greater credibility and fairness.
Of course, when enemies are already attacking, one cannot afford to ask too many questions. But when enemies are merely threatening, it is better first to assert legitimacy, and thus acquire some credibility at home and abroad.
To do so, there cannot be too wide a gap between our stated principles and our actual behavior. Nor can we claim, as we used to, that our values spring from God, nature, reason, or historical laws. Our values reflect the democratic debate itself, nothing more, and our defense of them must address three related fields.
First, we must update our social contract. France's ongoing public debate about secularism and legislation is an important effort in this direction, even if the debate could be better organized to demonstrate the link between principles, social and anthropological facts, and public policy. Such a debate should also involve education - its rules, objectives, and contents. In many countries, however, political parties find it difficult even to contemplate such debates.
The second axis of values concerns social justice and the environment. Issues linked to inequality, the distribution of wealth, and our exploitation of the natural world will become increasingly salient. This debate has not happened in the US, despite vague attempts at the beginning of the first Clinton administration; it has barely begun with Tony Blair's "Third Way" in the UK, or with Gerhard Schröder's variant in Germany. In France, the debate has stalled altogether due to bitter distributive conflicts, deep division within the Left, and the Right's absence of an economic and social vision.
What remains are the values linked to the global order, defense of which requires leading by example, not by narrow, legalistic initiatives aimed at crisis management or conflict resolution. This approach too often sacrifices long-term essential objectives to short-term concerns.
The fight for democracy cannot be selective. A desirable vision for the future of humanity must appeal to universally shared conceptions of justice and equity. We must all become freedom fighters.