Outline of CHAPTER 4..... Individuals, Families, Groups Overview The Individual A Model of the Individual Syntropic Totems The Autonomous "Self" Autonomy and Universalization Rights and Responsibilities Emotions, Cognitions, and Communications Emotions Fear Anger Love Cognitions A Model of Consciousness Creativity Communication and Consciousness Families Family As System and Family As Democracy Groups Democracy and Its Small Systems

Chapter Four Individuals, Families, Groups Whatever this is that I am, it is a little flesh and breath, and the ruling part... ...those who do not observe the movements of their own minds must of necessity be unhappy... This thou must always bear in mind, what is the nature of the whole, and what is my nature, and how this is related to that, and what kind of a part it is of what kind of a whole; and that there is no one who hinders thee from always doing and saying the things which are according to the nature of which thou art a part. Marcus Aurelius Meditations, Book II Overview If we could measure the evolution of our wisdom, one measuring stick would be the progress we make in understanding how to survive as a species for one hundred years in the future. What is the Earth's population carrying capacity at present rates of consumption? What are the optimal numbers and levels of material consumption that we can sustain? What will be the major threats to human survival, and how should we begin now to cope with those threats? How should we, or can we, reorganize our increasingly interconnected political systems to achieve universally desired human values and a sustainable world economy? What must we as a species do to supply food, clothing, and housing; health care, a good education, and a meaningful job for everyone? What is a "self-observing system," how does it relate to telic behaviors, and do these confer any advantage in the struggle for survival? What are the specific paths taken by democratic feedback loops within our own social system--or in the world system? Which ones should each citizen check frequently? What division of political labors would be most effective for a democracy? Does a global democracy, in fact, offer the best hope for human survival in the 21st century? These are all questions that relate directly to the ability of human systems to survive and progress, yet they are seldom addressed in public discourse. All of the above questions also relate directly to the structure of decision-making processes in democratic society--processes that are rooted deeply in human nature, though they often seem divorced from real human needs. In this chapter we will explore the biological origins of democracy and search for ways to relate democratic processes to the deepest realms of our personal lives. We will begin with the importance of individual thought. Consistent with Soros' idea[Soros, 1991] of a mutual-causal relationship between the effectiveness of democracy as a system and a generally-held belief in democracy as an ideal, we can argue as follows: economic well-being, high literacy rates, a well-written constitution, a set of laws, and a fair electoral procedure are not enough to produce a democracy. Some percentage of the thoughts, feelings, and behaviors of individual citizens must be consistent with, and supportive of, democratic ideals and practices. To narrow this hypothesis further we can assert that a democracy cannot exist unless some percentage of its citizens believe that it exists, and yet further, unless some threshold percentage of citizens can be trusted to participate honestly in the democratic process. At a very basic level, personally and politically as well as economically, decisions must be made everyday on every street corner, in every shop, and in every home--decisions that have the nature of the "Iterated Prisoner's Dilemma." [Axelrod, 1988] Without resorting to the usual boxes or numbers of game theory, the Prisoner's Dilemma can be explained as an interaction with the following structure: If two individuals, each of whom does not know the other's intention, independently decide to cooperate, both can gain. If one moves to cooperate and the other moves to win, the person who sought to win will gain at the expense of the other. If both seek to win at the expense of the other, then both will lose. Repetitions of this structured model of interaction are called the "Iterated Prisoner's Dilemma," and a player's awareness that the game will be played again and again with the same participants significantly alters the outcome. The decision to sincerely cooperate with others for mutual benefit, to strive for personal gain at the expense of others, or to pretend to cooperate now in order to have an opportunity to exploit others at a later time is a decision that is at the heart of every political system and of every person's life. Some of these decisions involve only narrow or local interests, but most involve principles that are of general interest. Research shows that when a small cluster of individuals perseveres in its determination to cooperate, their strategy of reciprocal cooperation for mutual benefit is likely to become the predominant mode for the whole system. For this to occur in the making of democracy, however, we each need to be conscious of the fact that in every social interaction we are making a decision--consciously or unconsciously--to strive for personal gain at the expense of others or to cooperate for mutual benefit. Each interpersonal interaction, then, presents a simplified model of the famous "Prisoner's Dilemma." The individual decisions that we make then ripple through the social collectivity--as well as through the vast ensemble of neural networks inside the individual actor--and ultimately come back later, in some degree, to affect the individual. The times and distances between our decisions and the return ripples, unfortunately, are often so great that we do not cognitively or emotionally connect them as cause and effect. The noise and distance between indirectly related causes and effects in a large, complex network gives rise to a greater opportunity for mischief--hence the advantage of small political units in detecting political chicanery. There is, for example, the well-financed view that economic transactions belong to a different realm than those of the democratic political process, and that market forces should be unfettered by moral or political constraints. This view, however, can be clearly traced to its sources. It is an attempt to mystify the issues, mask the excessive profits that are made, disconnect those profits from the poverty experienced elsewhere, and obscure the damage done to human health and to the ecosystem by a poorly regulated market system based on profit maximization as the guiding principle for interactions within the "Prisoner's Dilemma" framework. Since this book is intended to be a tool for creating and improving democracy, we will briefly address both the cognitive and the affective aspects of the "Prisoner's Dilemma" decision in individual, family, and group life. We will also explore the subject of democracy in the family, in the small group, and in work or play situations that influence the development of individual minds. If democratic habits are not thoroughly established at these levels the larger democratic system is not likely to sustain or renew itself with any acceptable degree of quality. A democracy, like the human mind, a language, a number system, symbolic logic, information, and matter-energy itself, is composed of individual elements that can be combined and recombined in diverse ways. The rational-analytic mode consists largely of the process of separating elements, testing different combinations of elements against control versions, modeling uncontrollable systems, and of the boom-and-bust cycles[Soros, 1991] that are propelled by the matches and mismatches of models with reality. Defining the elemental unit of a democracy is more difficult than it might seem. It may be that a complex network of individuals, laws, roles, procedures, groups, and its ecological support system is the irreducible element of democracy. For present purposes, however, the definition that follows will be useful: The "individual citizen," decision-maker, or "voter" is the "irreducible element" or "basic unit" of democracy. Depending on our theoretical approach, we could conceive of the fundamental elements of democracy as almost anything other than a human individual--a group of cognitions and individual actions, a set of laws or elementary procedures by which the people rule, the electoral process, a particular structure for group decision-making, or even an "intelligent voter-system" (i.e., a network that could include "thinking" and voting robots) could all be conceptualized as elemental units in a democratic system. Later, for different purposes, we will conceptualize the simplest unit of democracy as a particular type of "relationship" and as a "community of interests." At present, however, consistent with Western culture and ideology, we will think of the individual--a conscious, feeling human personality--as the primary and fundamental unit of democracy. This definition must be accompanied by the caveat that, upon closer examination, it will be found that these "units" are not as clearly discrete as appearances lead us to think. In any case, I shall also consider each voter to be an unelected representative of an unknown number of nonvoters, including small children and other living things, and therefore, not an isolated entity. Why emphasize the individual personality, or the family, or the small group in a book about the renewal of democracy? It would be easier to simply re-establish a democratic constitution with a minimal legal framework and assume that individuals, families, and groups will fall into place and take care of themselves. Firstly, as argued above, a democracy is a living system that cannot function unless it is composed of individuals who can think independently and act democratically. Secondly, individuals--through transactions of the Prisoner's Dilemma type, with the increasing penetration of the corporation-owned mass media, and with global crises looming--will sooner or later become more fully conscious of themselves as agents capable of exercising free will--yet capable of working together to change the world. Thirdly, a consensus will likely grow as to the difference between authoritarian and democratic behaviors, especially as these occur in individuals and in politicians. Authoritarian habits in individuals will have to diminish in frequency as democracy grows both outwardly and inwardly. Fourthly, families and small groups are important incubators of individual personality, and therefore, of the individual thinkers and voters in a democracy. In addition, we spend much of our adult social lives in family and small group situations where either democratic or authoritarian styles--or both--may be continually reinforced. Fifthly, all individuals, families, small groups, and communities in every culture have a natural capacity to recognize the universality of democratic values and, I will argue, an innate tendency to function more democratically if given a full opportunity and the necessary information. The role of small systems in creating and maintaining a democracy, therefore, needs to be fully recognized and carefully reinforced. In some countries, unfortunately, many people think they are already knowledgeable about democratic processes when, in fact, their own personalities, families, work situations, and national politics are rife with anti-democratic, authoritarian attitudes and behaviors. Self-education in democracy may take time and conscious effort, but the effort must be made at these levels if we are to improve the quality of democracy and extend democracy into new areas. Sixthly and lastly, democratic procedures may be manifestations of social rationality, but they are not founded on a platform of pure rationality. They are formulated and practiced by human personalities whose lives are filled with biological, emotional, and psychosocial needs that may, at times, express themselves rather "dictatorially." Democracy results from a transduction of physiological and emotional energies into cognitive and social decision-making that is based, largely, on rational principles. Early democracies are transitional systems, we might remind ourselves, in the long evolution of biosocial systems from preschematic and "authoritarian" structures toward a full, syntropic democracy. Each of us can, with a little effort, recognize authoritarian attitudes and behaviors in our own personalities. Regrettably, reducing the authoritarian processes within our selves and our societies is not as simple as one might think. Authoritarian traits are, along with all the other personality traits, part of everyone's cognitive and behavioral repertoire--and necessarily so. "Nature" evolved the human individual, family, and group for a long time without the benefit of formalized democratic processes. Authoritarian behaviors were, and at times are, necessary for survival. The authoritarian and the "pre-schematic" structures of these human system levels were thus more or less "given," and were more or less failing as governmental systems, when democracy was first formally conceptualized. Nevertheless, all of the pre-democratic structures were, and are, necessary for human survival. Through such processes as parent-child, teacher-student, supervisor-employee, drill sergeant-inductee, and police-citizen relationships we continue to be affected by, to use, and to learn authoritarian processes. They still have a place, though they should become increasingly limited, and more intelligently located, in modern democratic society. Informal democratic processes were also necessarily present from the beginning of human evolution, however, and contributed significantly to the development of those social structures that were present when "democracy" was first formally put into operation in ancient Greece and again, on a different scale, in early America. Many of these informal democratic behaviors could, with beneficial results, be inserted into relationships that are now primarily authoritarian. It is clear, however, that natural selection and self-organizing processes have left the individual, family, and group or small community systems with a certain residuum of "nature," i.e., a set of behaviors that are constrained by our genetic codes, the anatomic structures of the central nervous system, pre-democratic behavioral paradigms, and early cultural, learning experiences--all of which must be respected and carefully considered as we consciously formulate new and improved democratic processes. If we attempt to build a better social system on the basis of inaccurate or unrealistically ideal models of the individual, family, and small group, our new system would surely self-destruct at some future point or would remain fixed at some stage of its potential evolution--as in fact has happened innumerable times throughout the history of life. The Individual If our theory of democracy is to be useful in constructing new and better democracies, then, it should begin with a reasonably accurate understanding of the real, flesh-and-blood, human individual. Actually, I think, most people describe themselves in a way that is appropriate for democratic theory: as being of value to themselves and to others, as basically good, complicated, needing relations with other humans, able to make conscious and independent decisions, capable of enduring and of changing over space and time, and so on. In relation to the complexity of a single human being, however, there is an interesting set of considerations which I wish to describe briefly in order to achieve a better appreciation of the nature and importance of the individual in the theory and practice of democracy. We see in living nature an evolution that produces greater complexity, and we see in the human individual what appears to be a nearly ideal culmination in the evolution of complex organisms--ideal, at least, insofar as we are pivotal "body-mind systems" necessary for a transition from biological evolution to the evolution of large social systems, cultures, and of democratic systems. If we take just the brain of an individual, for example, with its estimated 10 billion neurons each with a (conservative) average of one thousand synapses each of which, in turn, can be "on" or "off," we find that the brain is theoretically capable of 2 raised to the power 1013 possible brain states--a number much larger than the total number of electrons and protons in the entire Universe! [Sagan, 1977] If the reader will forgive an oversimplification of the democratic decision-making process, we will attempt to make the point that the internal complexity of the individual human justifies our emphasis on the "miracle" of the individual to the democratic process. When we move from the individual to a large democracy (or any social decision-making system), we find what appears to be an enormous decrease in complexity. A democracy, composed of 100 million individual citizens in voting booths and voting for one of two presidential candidates, is only capable of functioning in 2 raised to the power 108 possible states--still more than the estimated total number of electrons and protons (about 2 raised to the power 103) but considerably fewer than the number of theoretically possible brain states. With the counting of votes, furthermore, the choice of a president is then made on the basis of only one bit of "information," i.e., on that bit which enables a decision between one of two possible candidates! What happened, of course, is that very large amounts of information were "chunked" [Miller, 1956] into two parts--first by each voter, then by the vote counts for each of the two candidates. In the individual personality, large amounts of information are also "chunked" every day and reduced in steps to a final decision that requires only one or a few bits of additional information, for although there are billions of possible brain states, most of them are different only in a trivial sense, and the neural structures of cognition narrow the immediate memory of conscious mind to a limit of about 7 \xb1 2 facts for processing at any one time. Thus hierarchical trees of "chunked" information are necessary strategies for coping with the huge amounts of information present in and around us. Through what may be described as a syntropic process, the rich complexity within the individual brain or within an individual democracy is purposefully reduced to a few, manageable decisions. Theoretically, we could conceptualize the fundamental elements of democracy as being either "bits" or "chunks" of information. A democracy composed of individuals, we could argue, is actually composed of many chunks of information. To put this in a slightly more familiar light, we as individuals, could also think of ourselves as, say, falling in love with certain, extremely complex patterns of chunked information. We could also think of our loved ones as mysteriously complex and highly valued, or to "chunk" on down, as simply "wonderful." The point to be made here is that it is wonderful that individuals are so complex, because in addition to the intrinsic value that complexity adds to us as humans, that complexity within is also what makes us each capable of coping with the complexity of our surroundings, of our social systems, and of democratic decision-making. The complexity of our democracies, now and in the future, is more than matched by the internal complexity of the individual human being--a rather dramatic assertion when one remembers that we usually think of the "part" as simpler than the "whole." With the help of "chunking" strategies and such extensions of the mind-brain as the computer, the brain of an individual can easily "contain" a model of a democracy of any size, and a democracy can contain a model of the individual mind. This reciprocally holographic arrangement is, I believe, what makes the principle of isonomia, i.e., equal opportunity for participation in democratic self-government, possible. It is only because evolution has produced individual organisms with this "wonderful" degree of internal complexity that democracy has become possible, and only because humans have been so successful in their evolution that democracy has become so necessary. The complexity of the individual also underlies the demand for individual freedom and related human rights. As implied by W. R. Ashby's research on the "law of requisite variety," a complex human being requires for good health and for the optimal evolution of intelligence enough variety of information input to match, indeed, to challenge--but not exceed--the information processing capacity within the individual. [Ashby, 1956][Ashby, 1960] The strong desire and longing for freedom experienced by individuals in the information-poor situation of either a totalitarian society or any enforced isolation are concomitants of this law. The experience of psychosis induced by sensory deprivation is a further, more extreme, manifestation of the same principle. The point to be made here, however, is that if a democratic system is to be successful, the information channels of a free and just society must correspond appropriately to, that is, they must fall within some necessary range that is appropriate for, the complexity of the human individual. A Model of the Individual In any case, individuals and democracies need reasonably accurate models of each other if they are to get along well. The infamous model of 19th and early 20th century economics, homo economicus, is rapidly falling into anachronistic and maladaptive relationship to the problems of human systems. We need a new model of our conceptualized individual component of a democratic system, so that the updated designs of our democracies do not do injustice to its component parts--and so that the democratic world system, if put to practice, will be a healthy and self-consistent whole. The following model of a human being will be given the name homo syntropicus, but this model of a human personality remains--like every other model--both a construction in the imagination and a limited abstract, a "chunking" of some generic characteristics, of a real person. I will argue, though, that this model is closer to the full reality of a living homo sapiens individual-in-context than is either the model used in liberal economic and political theory, i.e., homo economicus, or the "New Man" model of socialist theory. The essence of the homo syntropicus model is that human individuals are extremely complex information processing systems composed of many levels of organization, functioning in each of several domains, and that our "behavior" can change with changes in experience and with changes in context. Any theory of democracy ought to be based on a recognition of the full richness of the individual personality and all of its levels of organization--and in relation to a context. It is usually a self-serving fiction to say, as we often do, that this or that political system is incompatible with human nature. Human nature is extremely adaptive. Nevertheless, we require certain conditions in order to function and experience life optimally, and political theory ought to aim for optimal conditions. As our mind-extension technologies, our identities, and our environments change, and as we become more "self-organized," our preferences and behaviors will change. As we dramatically alter our own environment, we will have to make changes in democratic self-government in order to continue achieving progress toward the conditions for optimal living. A theory of democracy, a democratic system of education, and every working democracy ought to expect and encourage such changes. Among the principle features of the homo syntropicus model are the following: (1) We each have one living body with a finite life-span. Along with that body comes a set of physiological needs, pains, and pleasures that establish the basic requirements for our physical existence. These needs, pains, and pleasures also form a primary basis for the consumption of socially produced goods. This is the level of human functioning that primarily defines the homo economicus model. Although the "rational maximization of self-interest" is basic to the definition of homo economicus, that model assumes rational cognition as a direct extension of physiological needs rather than as an ego which, according to the psychoanalytic conception, integrates inner needs with outer realities. Capitalist economists and their marketing specialists have long used this extremely limited but until recently successful model of the human individual--to the great benefit, of course, of those who own the means of production. One could argue that the whole edifice of capitalism rests on this model as its foundation, and that this is why we are rapidly approaching a global crisis. (2) We each experience within ourselves emotions--which we can learn to recognize and name. We each modulate our emotions with varying skill. We each have a right to express our emotions, and we can learn to express them in ways that are constructive to good relations with other individuals. As everyone knows, our emotional attachments to people, ideas, and things may--at times--dominate our decision-making. (3) We each think and learn, i.e., analyze and store information, and as we go from birth to death we progress through stages of cognitive and emotional development. These stages are discernible, and have been conceptualized in a variety of ways by different observers. I choose to think of the stages of personality evolution as parallel--mutatis mutandis--to the evolutionary stages of other complex systems. In the model of consciousness described below, we will address these stages in more detail. (4) We each need relationship with other human beings, and there is a strong need to give and receive information, approval, support, affection, and love. Much of the ethical, religious, and legal matrix designed by humans is an attempt to establish predictable and valid rules for relationships. If the needs of either physiology or relationship are denied or exploited for personal gain, anger tends naturally to occur. Anger can lead to a correction of unjust treatment, but it can also be used to devalue or attack others--and it can lead to mutually destructive relations. What humans call "evil" is often behavior that is based on hatred, alienation, or indifference--all derivatives of anger. Each of us is capable of "evil," though in performing evil we usually think of ourselves as "good," "justified," or merely "getting even" while others are the "evil ones." Carl Jung referred to the set of negative elements that we choose not to recognize within ourselves as our "shadow." We have a tendency to think of ourselves as "right," "good," and loving while projecting our own inner negativity, especially the "shadow," onto others. By this and related psychological processes, reinforced by myths and stories that we incessantly repeat within our identity groups, we tend thereby to "split" other humans into "good" and "bad" groups. Becoming fully conscious of these tendencies, and of the cognitive and cultural means of coping with them, is absolutely necessary to the further evolution of democracy. It is also, at present, the most important step to be achieved in the development not only of our personal relationships but also in the creation of peace between peoples. (5) We each--including all differently-abled individuals--have an ability to perform some sort of constructive work for ourselves and for the common good. (6) We are each a part of several larger human systems--with some of which we identify more strongly than with others. The strength of these identifications varies considerably with time and historical conditions. As noted in paragraph four above, there is a psychosocial tendency to create the "in" identity group as a "good" and the "out" group as something less than "good." If there is only a small difference in the surface identity, it may become symbolic of a deeper difference that is assumed or "projected" and with which a "projective identification" occurs. (7) We each seek to define our selves and our relationships--the totality of our lives--in a way that is meaningful in some sense to ourselves, to someone else, and to some larger system. (8) We each have a tendency to seek--consciously or unconsciously--to unify the various elements of our lives toward some greater end or purpose which includes ourselves but also transcends both our individual lives and those of our immediate loved ones. A syntropic projection results from this tendency, and by a process similar to projective identification people tend to identify and unify themselves in the projected movement toward a greater purpose in life. This projective unification approaches some meaningful identity with a more perfectly self-organized "being"--whether we call it "the good life," a charismatic personality, a "mahatma," a family, a people, a movement, an ideal, God, country, democracy, history, humanity, or the whole creative evolution of life in the Universe. Taken together these characteristics of our individual and social process--intrinsic to our structure and function as human beings--I will refer to as psychosocial syntropy [syn =together, tropic =toward something], and it is this aspect of human nature that gives its name to our model. Syntropic Totems At each stage in world history--as these stages were described in chapter 3--we humans tend to define ourselves, and find meaning, in relation to the current, larger and "more perfect" structures. In the ancient world the individual, family, gender, clan, and tribe were the structures with which people identified. Totems, or objects that were symbolic of these larger structures, were often considered sacred and worth the risking of one's life. In the modern world we have new social and political structures that exist on a larger scale, strategies that we perceive to be necessary for survival, and those steps considered necessary for the enhancement of life for ourselves and for those whom we love. The objects that symbolize these "higher beings," and that confer special powers upon their holders, are flags, crests, national emblems, the "State Flower," and even more abstract symbols such as mottos, strategies, organizational ideas, and manifestos. These objects of psychological and social syntropy, too, have their modern, and postmodern, totemic symbols and qualities, but unlike earlier totems which distinguish and divide, syntropic totems symbolize that which is common to all, to the unification of a species, a global ecosystem, or of life in the Universe. They are poised, as Lévi-Strauss suggested, between the "natural" and the "cultural," and I would add, between national sovereignty and world democracy. At the close of the 20th century many people in democracies find themselves threatened in some way by crime and violence; by ethnic, racial, or gender conflict; by overpopulation, by increasing rates of unemployment, by infectious diseases and a lack of secure health care, by poverty or the threat of it, by an increasingly explosive gap between the rich and poor, by pollution, by weapons of mass destruction in the hands of special interests, and by generally corrupt and ineffective systems of government. Accordingly we begin more and more to identify ourselves, at least partly, with strategies for coping with these threats and injustices--and with such totemic symbols as come to symbolize the hope that these strategies offer. Democratic political process is one of the best strategies for survival that we have, but since it is so often weakened by special interests we are frequently apathetic or cynical with regard to its effectiveness. In a half-baked democracy the totems become weak and their "special powers" a mockery of the democratic idea. We find ourselves devoting more and more time to coping with social problems which our allegedly democratic processes have either created or have failed to solve. Many of these daily problems, however, cannot be solved by individuals working alone. If we are to cope with all of the obstacles and difficulties of life that are present in our modern societies, or with the severe stressors that are likely to occur in many places over the next 50 to 75 years, we will have to strengthen our democratic processes and/or create new ones. For democracy to progress at all, furthermore, we in the West will each have to submerge more selfish interests to the body of community interests and to laws--as these are agreed upon democratically--which will protect those common interests. In the East and former communist countries, the task also involves developing a democratic culture that supports a healthier expression of individualism. We need to develop new organizational ideas and strategies, and new totemic symbols, that strengthen our spirit and help us make the changes that must be made. Unfortunately, in the course of our developing frustrations we often lose the ability to identify with the idea of "common interests." We even, at times, lose our ability to believe in the possibility of efficacy in political action, let alone in the more heroic ideals of democracy. One of our goals, then, must be the restoration of our ability to believe in some strategy for political action and in some system of human self-government that will actually work in the interests of everyone. A reorganization of democratic political process offers the best chance for this renewal of confidence in our ability to take charge of our own lives. To make democracies work well, however, we must also make ourselves, our families, and our immediate relationships more democratic. If we get the ideas and strategies right, the totemic symbols that we need will emerge. There is a realm of private life, of course, which will appear to be outside the sphere of political process--yet which always eventually interacts with the political process. To this private realm, upon which the political process is partially founded, we will now turn. The Autonomous "Self" Problems with language and our methods of education make it well nigh impossible to talk about several system levels simultaneously without appearing overly dry and abstract. In this discussion of autonomy I have chosen, therefore, to refer to the "Self" and to the "Individual" without making it clear that I am sometimes alluding to a "referent system" which could exist at any of several levels other than that psychological or biological structure to which the terms "self" or "individual" usually refer. One strategy in our attempts to understand complex systems is to look for invariants across several levels of systemic organization, but considerations of space, time, and cost force me here and throughout this work to leave out much of the evidence that supports that type of thinking. According to most theories of development, very early in life we are "ego-centered," i.e., concerned primarily with our Selves. In healthy, undistorted development we gradually let go of our pre-eminent concern with the Self and eventually achieve a more balanced view of Self and Other, Self and Like-Others, then Self and All Others, and eventually, Self and the Whole System Evolving Toward...[some more perfect state of being]. This is true, I believe, in the history of individuals, peoples, nations and all other evolving organizations. In the balanced view, we have a consideration for the Other as being rather like our Selves with fears and desires, rights and responsibilities, survival needs, and a striving for optimal living-- all similar to our own. A little luck or appropriate experience then, perhaps with experiences in daily life which are similar to those of the "Iterated Prisoner's Dilemma" game [Axelrod, 1984], and we come to the view that in human relations we each deserve to be treated respectfully and fairly. This fairness, or "equality," evolves further to include the informed view that since each of us is in some way unique, our contributions, qualities, and situations in life will be taken into account, such that, while we may each be treated differently, the "balance" in human relations is still worked out "fairly." These, together with the cybernetic process of "comparing" inputs to standard values, are the psychosocial roots of the principle of isonomia. Along with the interactive experiences stemming from variations on the Prisoner's Dilemma, they form the basis for a transition from self-centered thinking to self-and-other thinking, and to thinking democratically about a group or community process. Unfortunately, some cultures tend to distort the healthy development of the Self. In service to its predominant tradition or ideology, one society may suppress the value of a healthy and assertive Self while a second society, gang, or civilization may reify the Self and its extensions into such an exaggerated importance that there is little motivation to regard Others as worthy of fair and equal treatment. The first society may suffer from overenmeshment, mutual dependency, stagnation, and oppression by Others while the latter may experience high rates of interpersonal conflict, violence, and a lack of cohesive planning for mutual benefit. Democracy, that is, a democratic system that is truly consistent with its spirit and ideals, will have flexible relationships between individuals capable of a high degree of personal autonomy on the one hand, and on the other, capable of working together as interdependent parts of a larger system. A flexible balance between autonomy and interdependence, between the Part and the Whole, leaning toward centralization or toward decentralization depending on the conditions within which adaptation must take place, is one of the features of syntropic democracy that distinguishes it from other political systems. The nurturing of individuals to become autonomous carries with it the potential for social conflict and must be matched by teaching skills for cooperation and conflict-resolution. Most "democracies" have in their practice been ambivalent with regard to this issue. Individual civil liberties must be protected on the one hand, but public safety must be guaranteed on the other. This "dynamic tension" has to be maintained, however, leaning this way or that depending on conditions, because the health of individuals and of a democracy depends on achieving a good, flexible balance between the "rights" of the Whole system and those of its individual Parts. The issue of a flexible autonomy for individuals, and for other small social units, is therefore, an ongoing fundamental challenge for any democratic society to solve. External threats to a democratic system--or to the lives of its individual citizens--may require either a centralization or a decentralization of command for optimal response. This applies whether we are talking about individual personalities, individual communities, individual nations, or any other "individual" social units--including the world system. An Individual needs the ability to function alone, at times, with a high degree of self-sufficiency. At other times a person clearly needs to be able to relate to others with a high degree of mutual dependency. Each of these two categories of behavior requires a unique set of skills. To the extent that autonomous "democratic personalities" can be achieved, the community will need fewer resources to manage. The cost of maintaining this autonomous style of democracy will be lower than the cost of maintaining a more interdependent style of democratic society--but only if autonomous personalities honor the social contract. Achieving the skills of autonomy requires introduction to, and practice in, first the experience of relating to others, then in the experience of relating to oneself--that is, in the way in which a person thinks about oneself and one's actions. Both of these training processes begin in infancy, and a great deal has been written on these subjects under the rubric not of democracy but of child rearing and child development. Here we address the issue as it is may occur to a person who is consciously thinking about it for the first time as an adult and wanting to place the issues in the context of a search for better democracies. Autonomy and Universalization A capacity for individual autonomy, therefore, is an issue of fundamental importance to democratic societies as well as to individuals. To function optimally a democracy must be composed of individuals who are capable of high degrees of self-support and self-organization--of learning, thinking, creating, and deciding independently though still on the basis of values shared with the community. Work absentee rates and health care expenses can be significantly reduced, for example, and personal happiness increased, by individuals who have learned self-reliance and self-control through a regular practice of syntropic living skills. Autogenic meditation, sentic cycles, cognitive coping skill, regular exercise, a healthy diet, methods of avoiding substance abuse, peak performance training, creativity enhancement, and constructive relationship strategies are all examples of individual "skills" that can help bring each level of personal organization into a healthy, meaningful, and purposeful framework chosen by the individual. A community composed of individuals who have learned the value of these self-care abilities, and who actually practice them along with other easy to learn skills such as self-hypnosis for motivation and achievement, or the creation of expert "flow states," would not only have to pay less for health care--it would also have higher productivity rates, significantly higher levels of life satisfaction, of education, and of other quality of life indices. Such a democracy would also have the benefit of many different, intelligent and healthy minds contributing to its decision-making processes. Since each person in a democracy is an expert on something--on his or her own perceptions, opinions, feelings, needs, and abilities if nothing else--each could contribute more of that expertise with fewer disruptions or dropouts from the democratic process. The development of syntropic living skills takes time but not nearly as much time as is wasted in living without them. If many persons around the world were skilled in autogenics, in the method of syntropic self-observation, in projective syntropy, sentics, self-hypnosis for increasing motivation and for invoking assistance from the unconscious mind, cognitive control of stress reactions, constructive thinking, constructive communication, and in democratic relationship skills, then a significant further step toward universalization of personality would have been achieved. The question arises, however: Is a universalization of personality desirable? There should be no fear of excessive conformity, if universalization of personality takes place in the context of an authentic democracy. There will always be, under democratic conditions, a nearly infinite variety of personalities. But why should variety occur only as a result of differing degrees of advantage, impairment, or self-limitation? When I refer to a universalization of personality in this context I am referring to a minimal set of common values, beliefs, and skills that would facilitate democratic problem-solving among members of the whole human community. In this regard, I think, it is clear: we need universalization of good health, shared values, and syntropic living skills. It is true that a universalization of the human individual is already occurring--haphazardly--via the media of global communication, transportation, modern warfare, commerce, environmental law, and political progress toward democracy. Unfortunately, not all of these processes are democratically inspired. Multinational fast food chains, for example, were not elected to stamp their logos in the mind of every child on Earth. Yet if we all receive the same news and images from the world around us, our minds will naturally tend to be more alike. To the extent that this occurs on the basis of the ethic of maximizing personal gain, universalization would lead toward conformity. But if we as a democratic society consciously and democratically manage the flow of information to preserve variety while fostering a minimal set of universally shared values, beliefs, and living skills we can actually achieve more variety and unique individuality than presently exists. We could certainly promote more individuality with democratic universalization than can occur when international conflict requires the militarization of society or authoritarian conformity. A healthy democratic universalization is obviously superior to that which occurs when severe environmental degradation and extreme poverty impose their monotonous burdens on whole regions or classes of people. We can assert the same with regard to the influence that corporate chauvinism and commercial advertising has when they bend basic human instincts to conform with the need by corporations to sell their products and maximize their profits. Rights and Responsibilities It is a commonplace to say that individuals, families, and groups each have--in relation to larger communities--both rights and responsibilities, and that these two categories of binding obligation have rarely been in good balance with one another. The terms "rights" and "responsibilities" tend to dominate the language in which the issues of the Part and the Whole, or centralization and decentralization, are usually discussed. In authoritarian systems all the emphasis is on responsibilities, while in libertarian democracies the drift is centrifugal, out and away from community toward individual rights and liberties--and if carried too far, to individual isolation. Future democracies will undoubtedly bring rights and responsibilities into better relationship, and from this significant benefits will accrue to both the individual and the community. There are a few declarations and multilateral treaties that summarize human rights and civil liberties as we have come to understand them over the past two hundred years. Among these is the International Bill of Human Rights, consisting of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights; the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights with it's First and Second Optional Protocols. There are also the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women and the Convention on the Rights of the Child. None of these are etched in stone, of course, and over the years some rights and values may be deleted while others are added. Nevertheless, human rights form one of the cornerstones of democracy and the subject should, in fact, be taught and discussed throughout the years of schooling and periodically in the mass media. Responsibilities, on the other hand, are also part of the foundation of democracy. "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country," President John F. Kennedy said in his inaugural address. Actually, we ought to be asking both questions--not only in relation to one's "country," but in relation to all democratic systems and the whole world system. We want our rights. We want our basic necessities and then some. In return we each owe something to the larger human community which protects our lives, our rights, and our humanity. If we each give enough to that community, i.e., to our social "commons," the commons will have enough to give back to each of us when we need it. The subject of responsibilities can only be adequately addressed when the social contract is made explicit in writing, is thoroughly taught as a required subject in school, and is clearly reinforced by mutual encouragement throughout the culture of a community. Songs, dance, poems, and stories are traditional and useful means of conveying and supporting a balance between rights and responsibilities. The subject of responsibilities will be addressed again in the chapter seven. For now I shall close this brief reference to the complex subject of responsibilities with the following quote from Albert Einstein: "A hundred times every day I remind myself that my inner and outer life are based on the labors of other men, living and dead, and that I must exert myself in order to give in the same measure as I have received and am still receiving." [Einstein, 1954] Emotions, Cognitions, and Communications As stated earlier, the subset of individual behaviors, affects, and cognitions as well as social roles that are specific to democratic processes must be learned and put into practice by a sufficient number of individuals, or democracy will not exist. Pre-democratic systems also required subsets of human behavior patterns specific to each of them. If a "post-democratic" world order comes into being there will also be a set of individual behaviors and cognitions specific to that stage of political process. And that stage, if the theory of history presented in chapter three is correct, will retain and extend democratic processes within a broader and deeper context such that a democratic global system dynamics will become the principle organizing paradigm. Democratically inspired individualism, and democratic decision-making, will be even more essential to the political structure of that era than it is to the present and near future. The democratic subset of individual behaviors must be seen as integral to the whole person, the family, and the small group. By "group" I mean social entities of all types and sizes but especially the smaller, informal groups--such as circles of friends, clubs, and other associative groups--with which we all directly participate and which play important roles in our lives. We can list some of the affects, cognitions, and behaviors in the democratic subset of all human behavior: cognitive autonomy (the ability to think things through and form one's own opinion independently), respect for others, egalitarian attitudes, a willingness to share with others, flexibility, affectionate disposition, tolerance toward others; openness to new ideas, to new immigrants, and to different races and cultures; desire to help others as well as oneself, kindness, a sense of fairness and of the importance of equal opportunity, negotiation skills, ability to compromise, conflict resolution skills, self-assertion--especially in the face of injustice, the ability to speak and participate as an equal in group discussions, a capacity for understanding the flow charts of democratic decision-making in relation to time and contingency, knowledge of parliamentary rules and skills in applying them, respect for rules and laws that safeguard one's own rights and the rights of others, respect for the natural environment, habits of thrift and conservation; rational, analytic, synthetic, and especially creative thought processes; understanding and interpreting news about the world, detecting bias and deception in the media and among those who govern, searching for truth within as well without, understanding and respecting the "law of the commons," an interest in learning more about democracy, its history, challenges, and possible futures--and perhaps most important, a desire for better, more perfect democracies. Generally, states, traits, and attitudes opposite to those above are more characteristic of the authoritarian personality. [Adorno, 1950] Although any personal skill that involves interaction with other human beings is complex and could be separated into simpler elements that are learned at earlier stages, the simplest element of the democratic interaction is a mutually respectful exchange of thoughts and feelings, followed by a decision which is based on rules that are known in advance and fair to each party. While some may argue that democracy makes room for nonviolent confrontations of almost any kind, it is clearly more consistent with the soul or spirit of democracy, and more effective politically, if we practice the Gandhian strategy of treating even our enemies with respect. Emotions All human emotions are employed in the democratic process. Emotions color, and add degrees of intensity to, communicative content. A full analysis of the relationship of each emotion to the political process is beyond the scope of this text, but we will examine a few aspects of the relationships among the affects and motivation, and among love, anger, fear, the social psychology of group action, and democracy. Motivational psychology is necessary to the understanding of political organization. If we wish to know how to create a political movement or a self-governing system, we ought to know how to make it intrinsically rewarding. Since emotions themselves are rewarding or punishing to the individual who experiences them, political organizations ought to become aware of the affective processes that they reinforce or inhibit. There must be clear incentives for individuals to join and to continue to participate. Perhaps we should add, however, that we will not embrace utilitarianism here but merely recognize that the desire to achieve pleasure and avoid pain is part of any human endeavor and must therefore be a part of conscious political organizing strategy. Fear, anger and love are the primary emotional forces that unify and divide human beings. Much that occurs in our personal lives can be understood in relation to fear, anger, and love. Derivatives of these three affects are also commonly used to influence public opinion. Our elected representatives often make government policy based on emotional prejudice either without realizing it or by consciously exploiting it. The rationalization of politico-economic processes creates a climate within which we have to rationalize our decisions while denying our emotional biases or the emotions that sometimes drive opinion polls. It is politically important to be seen as being in "rational control of our emotions" or at least to make it appear that our emotions are based on unbiased perceptions as well as on "rational" social policy. It is necessary, therefore, not only to address at least these three primary emotions as they impinge on our lives in democratic societies but also to consider a fundamental reorganization of our conscious attitudes toward emotions and their roles in a democratic society. We cannot achieve healthier democracies without also achieving a healthier awareness of our emotions and how they influence, and are influenced, by political processes. Fear Fear is necessary for human survival--as are all the primary affects. And, as is true of all the affects, fear sometimes occurs outside of its appropriate context. Because it is essential for the mobilization of energy in emergency situations, it must be available and easily aroused. Because it is easily aroused, it can be exploited by others. Fear, therefore, is often used as part of a political strategy for uniting people against a common enemy. It can also be used to create an "enemy" and as Machiavelli pointed out, for manipulating or controlling other people in the political context. When mixed with love as a strategy in the hands of an intelligent but unscrupulous authoritarian, it adds an almost hypnotic power to his or her commands. Hitler, Stalin, Saddam Hussein, and Shakespeare's King Richard III all exhibited, at least for a time, a remarkable ability to induce a strong mix of love and fear in those around them and by a charismatic application of these could exact almost total control over others. To be free, one must be able to modulate one's own primary affects and recognize by what means others use them as weapons for control. Two of the principle functions of democracy are (1) to provide security for freedom, and (2) to guarantee a fair share of participation in the social control process. These, as Rousseau argued, are two ways of saying what is almost the same thing. Put in terms of psychological description, these functions of authentic democracy provide a situation within which the individual can have the feelings of security, equality with others, efficacy, and self-esteem that enables her or him to act freely, i.e., to form and express an individual opinion, to gather information, to vote, and to make a difference. In The Honey and the Hemlock, Eli Sagan outlines a part of the strange and fascinating relationship between fear, or the particular manifestation of fear that we call paranoia, and "democracy:" "The quintessential overriding concern of the paranoid position is the question of control: Who is controlling whom? Are they controlling me or am I controlling them? The aim of all paranoid thought and action is to get a firm grip on that which controls the world. The anxiety that one does not have such a hold is enormous and therefore all activity, mental and actual, is directed toward obtaining a certain kind of controlling power. All manifestations of the radical paranoid position are either shrill laments that we have lost, or are losing, controlling power or fantastical attempts to regain it. "The fundamental paranoid view is that the world, and those who people it, are untrustworthy. Erik Erikson regards the task of the first period of a child's life as acquiring the quality of basic trust. The paranoid learns the exact opposite lesson: Basic distrust is the ground of his or her being..." [Sagan, 1991] (p. 16) There is, of course, an appropriate balance of trust and distrust in a healthy, mature personality--and in a healthy, mature democracy. Sagan recognized that democracies evolve and that the issues of trust evolve along with them.(p. 373-4) He proposes erecting "a statue to Pericles" whose voice [quoted below] stands out as a unique "renunciation of the paranoid world view:" "'The freedom which we enjoy in our government extends also to our ordinary life. There, far from exercising a jealous surveillance over each other, we do not feel called upon to be angry with our neighbour for doing what he likes, or even to indulge in those injurious looks which cannot fail to be offensive, although they inflict no positive penalty. But all this ease in our private relations does not make us lawless as citizens. Against this fear is our chief safeguard, teaching us to obey the magistrates and the laws....If we turn to our military policy, there also we differ from our antagonists. We throw open our city to the world, and never by alien acts exclude foreigners from any opportunity of learning or observing...trusting less in system and policy than to the native spirit of our citizens."' While it may be possible in a small, direct democracy to trust less in system and more in the native spirit of individual citizens, in a large, representative democracy we need laws which reinforce the watchful eyes of neighbors. Trust is the foundation of caring human relationships, yet "trust" is also the very coin in which the con artist, who is usually not well-known in the neighborhood, trades. To survive and enjoy love an individual must be both able to trust and capable of a healthy skepticism, to have some wisdom as to which applies under what conditions, and to combine affects in the projection of unifying and purposeful images of the relationship, i.e., to habitually integrate the affects via projective syntropy. We can say precisely the same thing about democracy. "Basic trust", however, is not a quality that can only be obtained in the first period of the life of a democracy. Although the structure of a constitution may bear the stamp of trust or distrust which were characteristic of the political context within which the constitution was created, it is also true that fundamental changes can be wrought through the addition of amendments to any constitution. The U. S. Constitution was not trusted at first, and the Bill of Rights had to be quickly added. Other political and cultural changes, too, can contribute to significant advances in the ability or inclination of a people to trust. Over a period of time, both fear and naive trust can be gradually replaced with a feeling of security, mature trust, and appropriate skepticism. That can only occur, however, with the evolution toward a more advanced democracy and a culture that is consistent with, and supportive of, democracy. Anger Anger is, perhaps, the most "misunderstood emotion." [Tavris, 1982] Anger, however, has an important role in human communication as well as in the evolution and survival of all living systems. In order to understand its political uses, the concomitant expressions of anger at cognitive, behavioral, and political levels must be elucidated--especially since some of them may be quite destructive of human ends. Whether intensely expressed, unexpressed, incompletely resolved, or projected onto others, anger is the basic emotion that drives people apart and/or leads to interpersonal violence. When stimulated by constant recitation of historical injustice in songs, stories, and political speeches it fuels war between peoples--usually to the advantage of particular politicians. When effectively expressed as a healthy assertion, rather than by the speech of either active or passive aggression, it may lead to change, mutual trust, and/or improved communication. The cartoon creature Pogo made a statement that is often repeated: "We have met the enemy, and he is us!" Pogo expressed the elemental truths that we are often our own worst enemies and that even the most "detestable" human being manifests something that is also within ourselves. What is detestable, however, is not "anger" but "aggression." We may define "aggression" as action that violates another person's human rights or that diminishes or tries to diminish another person's value or sense of value. "Assertion," on the other hand, is the clear expression of an affect without aggression. If we are to build a nonviolent society by nonviolent means that do not suppress the human personality, then we must carefully distinguish between aggression and assertion--and inculcate ourselves and our children with the habits of assertion. In order to stop the vicious cycles of violence in human affairs, it is not only necessary that we recognize ourselves within the Other, and the Other within ourselves, but that we stop the process of aggression--whether against ourselves or others. By expressing our anger "aggressively," we tend to create other angry or hate-filled personalities who also do not know how to express their anger or hatred in healthy ways. Much of the world's organized violence is based on the political and psychological phenomenon of "splitting" humans or groups of humans into "good" and "bad" or "insider" and "outsider." Self-serving politicians and the private profit-making mass media often stir up public anger for political purposes or to "sell" the news. Politicians then attempt to channel it into aggressive action taken against the "bad outsider," or against an internal scapegoat that serves the same purposes. In order to improve our democracies, it will be necessary we overcome these affective/political patterns of a divided world. We can teach ourselves, as individuals and as groups or societies, to express anger assertively, that is, in ways that avoid escalating fear, anger, or hatred into sustained patterns of self-and/or-other destruction--and to distinguish hysterical or political misuse of anger from justifiable anger in response to real danger or real injustice. Accordingly, every group, family, organization, institution, and social system ought to formally set itself the task of learning and practicing healthier ways of coping with, and expressing, anger--both within its relationship systems and between its members and those perceived as outsiders. Of primary importance here is the previously mentioned tendency to deny the anger that exists within us and to "project" that anger onto others--thus creating fear, loathing, and a justification of violence against others. If we were to focus in a limited way on anger we could say that unhealthy ways of expressing anger are responsible for more human misery and social waste than any other factor in human society. Anger, however, is also an aroused response to perceived injustice, and unjust behaviors in others as well as in ourselves are usually due to pathologies of "self-centeredness" at the levels of self, family, corporation, community, nation, race, religion, and culture. It is necessary, therefore, that we couple our learning about the healthy expression of anger to our learning about healthy expressions of the Self, of the Self as part of a larger context, and of those larger social entities with whom the Self most identifies. Another way of looking at the Self as subsystem within a larger system is to think of each of the subsystems as being closed or open, and conflicted or integrated to various degrees with the whole system. A model for the healthy assertion of anger is presented in the section below on interpersonal communication. Love Love may be the most commonly agreed upon value in human life, yet as Meadows et al have stated: "One is not allowed in the modern culture to speak about love, except in the most romantic and trivial sense of the word. Anyone who calls upon the capacity of people to practice brotherly and sisterly love is more likely to be ridiculed than to be taken seriously. The deepest difference between optimists and pessimists is their position in the debate about whether human beings are able to operate collectively from a basis of love. In a society that systematically develops in people their individualism, their competitiveness, and their cynicism, the pessimists are in the vast majority." [Meadows, 1992] Pitirim Sorokin had a similar complaint about the lack of acceptance of love as a subject for intellectual discourse. Love, of course, has never been easy to define. Most people would agree that children reared with love become healthier adults and better citizens than if raised otherwise. Everyone seems to agree that we should love our children, our spouses, and our parents. Some religions tell us to love our neighbors, and all of them want us to love "God." Most nations exhort us to love our country. In some cultures we are also expected to love the corporation which employs us. Love is the basic emotion behind all those actions which draw us together in mutual support and in support of mutually agreed upon values and goals. Unfortunately, many people are quite sure that what they're feeling toward those various other persons and organizations is not love. Often, needless to say, we are certain that what we're feeling is not love. In fact, dislike or disgust may be the emotions more commonly experienced toward many large social organizations. If the democratic "spirit" is fully present in large collective formations, however, then democracy is love writ large. The citizens of that democracy are "lovers" who can distinguish between the subtle manifestations of democratic and authoritarian processes--and they can detect the deceptions by those who place self-interest above every common good. Irving Singer has written a scholarly treatise in three volumes on The Nature of Love. In the third volume he asserts that: "The great problem for political philosophy consists in finding means by which the interdependence of those who stay in love can be duplicated throughout society, and in a manner that integrates all units of association with each other." [Singer, 1987] Singer elects to define love in a way that is especially pertinent here. He understands love as both an appraisal and a bestowal of value, that is, an experiencing of the other as having an enhanced value that is partly intrinsic and partly "bestowed" or projected by the lover. I would add that the loved one then usually experiences her or himself--partly via the psychological process called "projective identification"--as actually having greater value. The implication of this for public process is that, for example, if government offices appraise and bestow value on citizens we will respond by being better citizens who more highly value ourselves and our government offices. While romantics might well argue that these considerations do not adequately describe the "mystical" experience of loving, being "in love," or being loved, I do think that the process of appraising and bestowing value captures that essence of love which is objectively present across all the many types of love that we know. We can say that the appraisal and bestowal of value--as these occur at cognitive and political levels--are the extensions or concomitants of the affective process called "love." When we observe them in action we know that "love" is somewhere near. In attempting to define love in the political or any other context, it is also necessary to utilize poetic metaphor. Among the many metaphors of love in the work of William Shakespeare, we find both political and biological metaphors that describe the heightening of values by love. Witness, for example, the following passage from Love's Labour's Lost which I will quote at length not only because it is one of the most beautiful passages in the English language but also because the additional context is necessary for understanding the political implications of some of his metaphors: Other slow arts entirely keep the brain; And therefore, finding barren practisers, Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil. But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain; But with the motion of all elements, Courses as swift as thought in every power, And gives to every power a double power, Above their functions and their offices. It adds a precious seeing to the eye; A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind; A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound, When the suspicious heed of theft is stopped; Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste. Love's feeling is as soft and sensible As are the tender horns of cockled snails. For valour, is not Love a Hercules, Still climbing trees in the Hesperides? Subtle as Sphinx, as sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; And, when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Make heaven drowsy with the harmony. Never durst poet touch a pen to write, Until his ink were temp'red with Love's sighs; O, then his lines would ravish savage ears, And plant in tyrants mild humility. From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire-- They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish all the world... (Act 4, Scene 3) If we are to restore "Promethean fire" to secular democracy it must come from the energies of the human body through the medium of love, and we will have to learn how to express the meaning of love in our thoughts, deeds, and political policy making. Freedom, justice, truth, and concern for those less fortunate clearly seem to be political concomitants, or derivatives, of love. Examples of love expressed as public policy would be such decisions as providing immunizations for every child, making health care accessible to everyone, keeping the environment clean so that others may enjoy it, or delivering food reserves not needed in one part of the world to another part of the world where food is desperately needed. Such policies, of course, always have to be formulated while keeping in mind that all human and natural resources are limited, allocations sometimes have to be rationed, and priorities often have to be set among human needs. Democracy, based on the cognitive and political concomitants of love, is the best system for making such decisions. We know it is possible for people--and for peoples--to love one another, and it is possible for elected representatives and bureaucrats to love "the people." It is even possible for people to love their representatives in government. We might well ask, however, is it really possible to feel "love," or something akin to it, for a large scale human organization? Or for something that seems as abstract and unhuggable as the whole of "humanity?" The answer appears to be "yes" for many people, suggesting that it is at least possible for most people to love a social structure they cannot actually see, hear, nor touch but which they experience through condensations, symbols, principles, or through a form of synecdochism, that is, through some local model taken to represent the whole system. Nor is the emotion experienced when putting a hand over one's heart and singing the national anthem the only manifestation of such love. The "Tomb of the Unknown Soldier," the National Anthem, War Memorials, the Eternal Flame, troops marching in perfect unity, and massive federal or historical architecture all serve to unify the people of a nation by evoking emotional support for the near mystical entity of "the State" or "the People." Many individuals have been willing to die in order to defend their country or their people--or even to defend something as abstract as an idea, a system of laws, or a theory of history. But is this "love" false or misguided? Is "love" just a label attached to a contrived pattern of socially conditioned responses designed to preserve the State, or the special interests and incumbent personalities who may be cloaking themselves in the "interests of state?" It is at least a derivative of love, in my opinion, if the feeling of attachment is accompanied by a conscious affirmation of the value, and an understanding, of a freely chosen object of affection. However, each of us may be fooled into loving a political structure which pretends to be something that, in fact, it is not. Great crimes can thus be perpetrated in the context of a loving, mutual support among the members of an ingroup that simultaneously dehumanizes the members of an outgroup. Such crimes may continue for a long time before they are discovered. "Der Führer" was apparently loved by many Germans until the Death Camps were discovered (and by a twisted few around the world even after they were discovered--and after the myth of ingroup superiority was destroyed). Love, or the ability of a government official to inspire love, is clearly not a reliable guide to good works. As good as love is, it--like religion--may mask egregious crimes against humanity. Witness, as further example, the 500+ years of proselytizing and "saving" by European Christians of the Native American peoples--a "salvation" that almost completely exterminated these targets of Christian "love." It is necessary, therefore, to develop and incorporate into our democratic processes--together with the ability to love--methods of detecting deception and excessive self-love. The problem of self-serving lies, bribes, false campaign promises, ingroup-outgroup psychology, and other forms of deception and distortion in democratic self-government must be dealt with squarely and thoroughly by every human community. "Love," as a prominent psychiatrist reminds us, "is never enough." [Beck, 1988] In teaching ourselves and our children, whether at home, in school, or through mass media, we could associate the ideas and principles of democracy with the ideas and feelings of love. The danger inherent in this is clear: the lesson may be perverted from that of love for the ideas and ideals of democracy to a love and excessive trust for a specific symbol of democracy, a misguided policy, or a deceptive administration. The great danger in any affective state, love included, is that it can be aroused and applied in oversimplified and indiscriminate ways. Complex actions, sometimes having mixed or paradoxical consequences, can be oversimplified or falsely justified as "based on love" in the same way that decisions are sometimes falsely justified as being "the only logical course of action," as "God's will," "for reasons of state," or "historically inevitable"--each of these having served as the ultimate "rationale" for controversial decisions. Neither love nor a claim to know the will of God is ever enough. Politico-economic and religious naivete must be addressed in a systematic way--early in the education of every individual and consistently throughout the mass media--by the democratic society that wishes to base itself on truth, accuracy, and progress toward a more perfect form of democracy. Shakespeare's love "adds a precious seeing to the eye," but its ear "will hear the lowest sound when the suspicious heed of theft has stopped," i.e. the people may bestow great value on their democratic process, but if that governing process consistently serves special interests and degrades the spirit or principle values of democracy it will sooner or later be perceived as a "fence" for thieves who are stealing from the people. One of the truest expressions of love in a political democracy would thus be to build effective verification and feedback control procedures into our democracies to ensure honesty in government and to guarantee the actual delivery of the full and just quota of "love"--that most well-known among secular, generative energies--to every individual. It is especially needed in our relations with people who are perceived to be different from ourselves. We can then experience democracy as James P. Carse wants us to experience life and love--as an "infinite game" of play and possibility. [Carse, 1986] To summarize, the three main points that I wish to make about love in relation to democracy are: (1) We cannot simply love, trust, or fight for a particular government or political policy without carefully ascertaining and verifying that it is actually in keeping with the spirit or ideal of democracy as "love writ large." (2) Love, as an emotion, cannot be maintained all the time--as is true of each emotion--but we can consciously experience, and habitually construct, the concomitants of love in the cognitive, political, and cultural spheres by a process of finding and bestowing or creating value--especially in relation to minorities and to those who are most in need. (3) Every democracy ought to be explicitly teaching the appropriate application of love, along with an intelligent understanding of its derivatives and its verification components, to every citizen from birth through death--at home, at school, in the mass media, and through the government's own policy and practice. How does one recognize and "grow" love at the level of political action? First, and most importantly, we can detect an act based on love when the act communicates perceived value in the Other, when the act enhances that value and/or the Others' progress toward self-chosen values and meanings in life, and/or is something which helps the Other create new meaning and values. Secondly, we often communicate love by example, that is, by analogical methods. Thirdly, since a person learns love both by feeling loved and by feeling love for others, one can also help another person into a situation within which she or he can receive and give love. Fourthly, anyone can enhance his or her ability to give or project and receive or identify with love by practicing methods of meditation that are specifically designed to promote love. Appendix 2 contains a description of one such method. Cognitions Our thought processes can be as varied and complex as all the possibilities of Life in the Universe. The magic of thought consists chiefly of our ability to create a model of, i.e., to imagine, almost any world. This, together with our ability to observe our thoughts and select among them, to think beyond our immediate space-time context, to communicate our thoughts, and to translate some thoughts into future action, makes thought the most powerful survival advantage in the living world. Given the ability to think about anything, the following questions naturally arise: What shall I think about? Why should I think about X rather than Y? How should I think about X? The generic answers to these questions are, firstly, that we must be free to think anything and everything we choose to think, and secondly, that if thought is to be an aid to human survival we must be able to direct our thoughts in order to model solutions to problems related to survival and to the quality of life. We are free, generally, to think anything until a survival situation requires that we either think of a solution to the survival problem or face the prospect that we will stop thinking forever. The greatest danger is that a survival problem or solution may go undetected, or that the temporal relations among thought, survival problem, and the search for solutions may not be sufficient for survival. The best cognitive strategy, therefore, is to become aware of survival crises as soon as possible, prioritize among all problems, then construct and enact the solutions with appropriate timing. If relaxation and play, or other considerations of quality in life, enhance our chances for survival, then time must be allocated to those activities. If we choose to value some beliefs or principles higher than life, then we must accept that we may die while upholding those thoughts or principles. Now here's the rub: every moment of every day each of us makes a choice, not only for ourselves but for others as well, of what, why, and how to think and to act, and each of those choices--based as they are on imperfect constructs of reality--bears an uncertain relationship to democracy and to human survival. None of us knows how those choices will affect all the levels and dimensions of human existence over time. Into this situation of global uncertainty comes what I will call the syntropic assumption. Suppose that each person establishes the habit of frequently asking the following constructive question: What can I or we do to make this situation better for everyone involved? The question is "constructive," because it tends naturally to lead toward thoughts and actions that answer the question by creating an improved situation. The syntropic assumption is that if millions of people more frequently think constructively the world will become a much better place much faster than it would otherwise, because a higher percentage of our thoughts would lead to individual and collective actions that are constructive, mutually beneficial, and democratic in nature. The further extension of the syntropic assumption is that these constructive thoughts and actions would then eventually lead to cooperative action within integrated whole systems moving toward common goals on a larger and larger scale. It is an extension of the strategy of "cooperation for mutual benefit," taken from the Prisoner's Dilemma and applied to what might be called "the Dilemma of the Commons." All of this is already understood at some level by nearly every thinking person. We live our lives expressing the syntropic assumption to some fuzzy degree. Over the next century it will become increasingly necessary for us to think more clearly and more specifically about our cognitive processes in relation to species survival problems. For example, what might be called the lesser cognitive challenge is that each individual will be challenged to learn how to think about thinking and actively participating in a movement toward global democracy--while at the same time taking care of oneself and one's loved ones. The greater cognitive challenge during the next century will be to learn how to think about thinking and actively participating in the improvement of human organization at all levels and in the context of a complex survival situation that involves the entire human species in both its limited planetary ecosystem and its extra-terrestrial environments--with little margin for error. Becoming aware of boom-bust cycles [Soros, 1991, 1994] in the application of human understanding to global realities, for example, will undoubtedly become increasingly important. Global democratic control of at least two-thirds of the mass media channels, with one-third of the channels controlled by democratically managed nonprofit and nongovernment organizations, should help to significantly modulate gaps between our perceptions and global realities, however. A Model of Consciousness In accordance with the syntropic systems theory developed in chapter three, the deep evolution of cognitive processes is parallel to the deep evolution of democratic processes. Learning how to think about the human mind, therefore, implies a simultaneous learning about the flows of information and decision-making in our democratic processes. In response to the cognitive challenges mentioned in the previous section, it may be useful to create a model of cognition which, as a model, could also be useful in the design of decision-making for a democracy. A number of authors have put forth models of conscious thought--some of them quite elaborate and sophisticated. The model of consciousness outlined below is designed to be consistent with the theoretical constructs utilized in the approaches to history and democracy outlined in the preceding chapter. We will not attempt a complete explanation of human consciousness here, nor will we attempt to correlate the model with brain anatomy. We cannot now address many of the questions that frequently arise about consciousness--though the answer to some of those questions will become apparent if one takes the time to mentally follow the possible flows of information over the arrows in the diagrammed model. We will only describe enough of the proposed model here to enable us to relate the structure of consciousness to the structure of democratic processes and to ourselves as active participants in the democratic process. Taken together, the models of consciousness and of democracy illustrate the structure of the syntropic systems paradigm which we believe will manifest increasingly in products of the human mind--including those of art, science, politico-economic formation, and literature--as we proceed through the 21st century. The model below assumes different types of memory stores and variations in the type of signal mixing which is done at the "comparing nodes" at each of the five levels of consciousness that are included in the model. A textbook on neural network computing can provide a few clues as to the variation and number of types of signal mixing and/or "comparing" that may occur. Diagram 1. Syntropic Model of Consciousness The arrows in the diagram represent the flow of information patterns. Five paradigmatic structures of information flow, labeled E, AS, AN, SCH, and RA, are shown at the U level of consciousness. These symbolically represent Extropic, ASsociative, ANalogical, SCHematic, and Rational-Analytic processes respectively and are explained in Appendix 1 along with two more complex paradigms of information structure, the dialectical-system and syntropic patterns. "Chaos" is the name given to the set of spontaneously occurring "random events" that are present in every system. Each of these paradigmatic patterns may be superimposed on the network of information flows shown above the U level. As we go through stages of cognitive development, each of these paradigms of information processing takes a turn at being the predominant identifying structure or mode of functioning. The small circles where the heads of arrows come together for a "comparison" or "mixing" of inputs are "RA nodes." Each of the RA nodes has the functional structure of the I-->R-->O pattern of Inputs, Referent, Outputs, and the feedforward, feedback, and adjustment loops shown in the bottom right corner of the diagram. The I-->R-->O unit, together with its feedback loops, is the basic unit of consciousness and of behavior. A "conscious" system cannot be constructed using only the simpler units of information processing which are shown to the left of the I-->R-->O pattern (the RA structure). The comparing or mixing of two inputs (each of which could be a summation of many inputs) may be modulated or filtered, or the results can be compared with a third or fourth input pattern, described here as the higher referent (HR) and the lower referent (LR). One of the input patterns may be split so that two simultaneously occurring comparisons or mixes among four inputs occurs, which then leads to a match or mismatch between the results of the first two matching processes and then to an output from the node. A number of arrows bifurcate, showing a split signal that then feeds back or feeds forward to modify one of the other inputs to the nodes. Unfortunately, not all the possible connections and variations of flow in the RA node can be described in a simplified diagram--but enough, perhaps, to achieve a fundamental understanding of the complexity that underlies both consciousness and any advanced democracy with its plethora of feedback loops carefully designed to ensure accuracy, honesty, and progress toward goals. The intensity or strength of a signal can influence or be influenced by any information flowing to the arrow that represents it. The strength of a signal could be signified by altering the thickness of the arrows or assigning (+) or (-) numbers to each arrow. We can assume, for example, that signals related to basic survival or to sexual desire, or any intensely felt emotion, are generally "strong" enough or repeated frequently enough to modify, or predominate over, other inputs and outputs. For the model to achieve a fuller richness it may also be useful to imagine the two dimensional, flat diagram as a four dimensional, space-time lattice connected to a source of energy. The single stream of consciousness with which we are all familiar occurs at the C and So (self-observing) level when inputs and outputs are held to a sequence of closely related images or patterns at the C level and "observed" at the So level. The C level stream is achieved by matching, feedback, and feedforward to the next time frame--all of which occurs at subliminal sequencing speeds. Sampling and feedback control frequencies of the higher level processes could occur at a faster rate than lower level consciousness. This may be one of the reasons for the faster EEG frequencies associated with focused attention. The "richness" of conscious experience results from (1) the vast storehouse of memories and reference values, (2) the huge variety of inputs that may occur from the outside and from internal state reports, (3) the enormous number of information flow paths that occur simultaneously in the massively parallel processing that is constantly occurring, especially at lower levels in this lattice, (4) from the multimedia (multiple sensory modalities) experience of the world around us, and (5) from the fact that, depending on the strength of signals, an "intrusion" of inputs to or from C or the Sy (syntropic) levels may result in a new focus or a redirection of the flow of consciousness at any time. With regard to the richness of consciousness, it may be interesting to add here that there is experimental evidence supporting the view that the unconscious mind can continue a search through memory stores at a rate of about thirty items per second even after the conscious mind has turned to other subjects. Further, according to the above model of consciousness, every thought or verbalization at one level of consciousness is also a suggestion to other levels of consciousness. When trying to remember something momentarily forgotten, therefore, the unconscious searching process may be enhanced and sustained by consciously saying to a friend or to oneself, "Perhaps I'll remember that in a few moments." We can define human consciousness most simply as the sequenced process of one after another "mappings or matchings" of a C level neural reference pattern with input patterns that result from the outputs of B level matching processes. The ability to concentrate, or to maintain a "train of thought," depends on the ability to repeat or feedforward the matching process with the remembered same, or a similar, Referent while the input to the next timeframe varies with "real time" changes in the environment or imagination. Sudden shifts in the "train of thought" without an awareness of the shift may occur at the C level if Sy level processes are not operating--or if the shift is initiated at the Sy level itself. C level consciousness enables one to be aware in some degree of both the outer environment and the inner environment including autonomic information, to model that mixture of perceptions, and to choose among possible actions. The B input patterns may come from outside the brain or from other parts of the brain system. The B input and reference patterns may come from different primary or secondary sensory processing areas or from memory stores. The full "3-D, stereophonic, or multimedia experience" of the world occurs when patterns from different sensory modalities are "compared," or are associatively reconstructed in space-time models of the outer world. The C level "pattern matching" is of essentially the same structure as the other matching patterns except that it's C level input patterns come from the results of B input-reference matching processes which are then output to a matching process with C level reference patterns that are specific to C level processing. The C level process also has the capacity to send signals which may influence B level matching processes which, to a lesser degree, can then influence the U level mental processes. "Observation" or monitoring (sampling) of one's C level conscious process may be called "self-consciousness." "Self-consciousness" or self-observation, with only a limited ability to direct conscious flow, is the So level "pattern matching" which receives outputs from the C level comparing or mixing patterns that are then matched against reference patterns specific to So level processing. The subjective phenomena of "self-consciousness," that may occur along with shyness for example, results from an So level observation of a C level modelling of the way other people may be thinking about one's self. The Sy level pattern, i.e., the syntropic level, has the capacity to create, control, or influence the flow of So, C, B, and U level processes in a purposeful direction. Depending on the strength of signals, processing at any level may modify the information flow at all the other levels. This is what makes self-conscious modification of autonomic processes possible. The So level process is what we commonly call the "self-observing ego." So processing is "passive observation, that is, it cannot actively direct the processes that it monitors. Vipassana meditation, said to be the method practiced by Siddartha Guatama, is primarily the practice of So processing, and it is indirectly self-therapeutic to the extent that formerly automatic associations among somatic, sentic, and cognitive processes can be interrupted and replaced by healthier associations. Sy information processing is a different, more active and creative, level of "self-consciousness." It adds the capacity for active modulation or telic influence over the processes under observation, and it is the level of consciousness that we seek to acquire, maintain, or strengthen in certain other meditative practices, such as autogenics and self-hypnosis. Levels of consciousness, or degrees of "abstraction," all occur by similar types of processing, but each new level in the model adds a new paradigm to those used in the previous levels. Further "chunking," or abstracting, of "whole system" information achieves more universal "truths," i.e., higher level generalizations about subsumed "chunks." Most of us are capable of So level consciousness as, for example, when we observe or recall the particular thoughts we had about a particular event that occurred at a particular time in the past, but the full development of So and Sy level cognitive abilities usually requires practice. These practices should be taught to everyone in more advanced democracies, beginning around the age of 11 or 12 and with periodic refresher courses throughout life. The full differentiation of the S levels of consciousness, however, requires time, experience, and practice. As with any skill, devotees can become exceptionally adept at either So or the more difficult Sy level consciousness. These are natural, psychophysiological skills that anyone can develop with practice, and contrary to the belief of some, does not require the mystical or supernatural interpretations that are sometimes attached. The syntropic democracy of the future will undoubtedly have a higher percentage of citizens with So (self- or system-observing) and Sy (syntropic or system-purposiveness) levels of consciousness, and along with those skills, fewer health problems, much less violence, and much greater wisdom. "Unconscious," or U-level, information processing includes all the U level processes included in the diagram below and in Appendix 1. At the U levels, information processing tends to be dominated by the associative and analogical paradigms. Unconscious processes, which by definition cannot be easily observed at the C or So levels, are nonetheless more amenable to Sy modulation, via special cognitive strategies, than is generally realized. In unconscious information processing several types of information flow occur independently and simultaneously--many of them without time markers--in many parts of the brain. For that reason unconscious processes often appear timeless and sometimes remarkably efficient by comparison with conscious process which are more linear, and single-channeled, in nature. Only those information patterns and images which at higher levels are "sequence marked" to time, language, or both linear and circular cause-effect patterns become knowable "in time." The relevance of this model to democracy comes, firstly, from the cross-level hypothesis that consciousness and democratic process have structural similarities. If so, it could be useful to observe the patterns of information processing within ourselves and compare them to the models of the democratic process that are available. Democracy, then, could come to be seen as conscious intelligence expanded to a higher level of organization--the rational mind externalized and made observable as a social process. Further, to continue the evolution and improvement of our democracies, we must be able to recognize, at each level of individual consciousness, the differences among democratic, authoritarian, and disorganized or anarchic processes. It would be unrealistically ideal to hope that the individual citizens of a democracy would ever have an approximately equal ability to observe, select, sustain, and create democratic process when democracy is the appropriate method for decision-making. Nevertheless, each democracy would be wise to begin working now toward that ideal. Democratic process is the decision-making method of choice when it involves conscious individuals with the ability and the will to participate. Incorporating models of democratic process into several levels of consciousness can be accomplished by pedagogical methods--preferably starting at an early age. A good education beginning at a young age may be necessary, for example, to achieve a citizenry that can more quickly identify the elements at fault in a complex democracy when it is not producing good results. An early education in the consciousness of democracy may be necessary to distinguish between a candidate or elected representative who is truly democratic and working for the common good--and one who is not. Secondly, the value of the So level self-observing ego, and of methods of developing or strengthening Sy level consciousness ought to be more apparent from a glance at this model. Self-and-Other consciousness, so essential to the principle of isonomia in democratic politics, can best be achieved by the ability to be aware of, and to direct, one's consciousness of the Self-and-Other interactive dyad as the Self enters into a mutually respectful and mutually understanding interaction with the Other(s). As with any neuropsychological process, these higher levels of consciousness and sensitivity in human interactions may be strengthened by practice and repetition. Every democracy, therefore, ought to include in its educational curricula the teaching and practice of So and Sy levels for observing and purposefully guiding Self-and-Other interactions. This could be introduced in schools to students beginning at about the age 11-12 when, according to Piaget, the mathematico-logical structures of rational processes are beginning to function. Thirdly, a democratic organization, in order to function syntropicly, must use all of the paradigmatic patterns and feedback loops hypothesized as necessary in the brain, to produce the "conscious" and "self-conscious" foundations of meaningful and purposeful social action. Creativity Since democracy functions best when everyone is receiving and contributing information and participating in the organized decision-making process, it follows that if everyone is participating creatively the whole system will be more creative. Every good, new idea, every new invention or discovery, and every person's perspective on a problem under consideration carries with it the possibility of enhancing the democratic system's adaptiveness and survivability as well as the quality of life that it can provide for all its citizens. Can creativity be taught? Yes, generically it can be, and the conditions supporting individual and group creativity can be provided by society. We have learned a great deal about creative processes and how to encourage them. Group interactions that encourage spontaneous expression without fear of criticism are one helpful approach. Analogical and general systems modeling is useful for creative thinking. Meditative or self-hypnotic practice which asks the unconscious mind a question and then allows it time to wonder and to wander is useful. Questions and open-ended suggestions to oneself or to others can stimulate creativity. Here is an example of an open-ended suggestion: "You (or I) can think of several new ways to do that." The statement is "open-ended," because with no specific way being suggested, the listener is free to consider many possible new ways. Several other forms of indirect suggestion that are useful in promoting creativity have been identified by Erickson and Rossi. Some quiet time should occur after such suggestions in order to allow the unconscious mind to carry out its search. [Erickson, 1979] It may be worth noting here that every conscious thought is, among other things, a suggestion to the unconscious nervous system--as denoted in the diagram of consciousness by the output arrows pointing down toward the U-level. Philip Slater gives Mary Parker Follett credit for first articulating the central importance that creativity has for democracy. [Slater, 1991] Creativity, of course, is discouraged by authoritarian systems. Authorities require conformity, obedience, and faith in the authority, whether religious or secular, and whether it seems to make rational sense or not. Creativity is therefore highly threatening to authoritarian structures. Democracies, on the other hand, thrive on original thinking by and among many people. Creativity, along with rationality, is the sine qua non of democratic problem-solving. Communication and Consciousness To promote the development of democracy, of healthy personalities, and of healthy human systems in general, we need the necessary skills and understanding to make democracy work. These skills begin with the translating of biologically based energies into affects, cognitions, and especially into communicative behaviors that are conducive to democratic processes. If a Bill of Affective or Emotional Rights were to be recognized, it would surely state that everyone has a right to the feelings they experience. Coupled with the widely recognized right of free speech this would imply a right to express one's feelings freely. Unfortunately, while this latter may be appropriate as a legal or cultural right, the free expression of one's feelings without appropriate sensitivity to others--or to the effect of one's speech act on others--would translate directly into individual and social problems. Every right, to paraphrase a law of physics, has an equal and opposite responsibility. Without adding to the already burdensome log of unenforceable laws, however, we can easily incorporate into our cultures the teaching of affective and communicative competence. Furthermore, we can do that in a way that integrates rights and responsibilities in a seamless fashion. A relationship works best when each party adopts the fiction that each is responsible for, i.e., each creates, both the Self and the Other. This only works, of course, if both parties participate in the not so fictitious assumption, and it is only applicable within a limited range of mutual causal behaviors. When it is necessary to recognize individuality and identify yourselves separately, as occurs quite often in any relationship, the following approach to communication helps to achieve mutual respect and understanding. The simplest model for communicative action that includes the three elements of self-assertion, social awareness, and democratic structure involves two persons speaking to one another using the following pattern: "I think (or feel) _______, because I perceive _______, and I'd like to hear your thoughts (or feelings) based on your perceptions." This three-part statement begins with the democratic right to assert a feeling or thought. This affirms one's right to have the feeling or thought and to speak it aloud. Secondly, the speaker is showing a democratic self-and-other awareness by stating that this feeling or thought occurs because of a prior perception for which the speaker takes responsibility. In other words the speaker appropriately and sensitively assumes responsibility for her or his own thoughts and feelings rather than imposing that responsibility on someone else as would be the case if the speaker had made an authoritarian statement such as: "You make me angry." Thirdly, the speaker invites the other to respond in the same way--invoking the right of equal opportunity to participate in a "democratic" exchange of views or a process of nonviolent conflict-resolution. Fourthly, the suggestion is implicitly present that differences can be resolved, or experiences, feelings, and ideas can be exchanged nonviolently even if different, and that the goal of communicative interaction is mutual education on the basis of some minimal set of shared values. It says that whatever the assertive communication ("assertive," not "aggressive") might be, it will be tolerated. This suggestion can also be made explicitly as part of the exchange in order to ease the other's fear of the possible consequences of speaking out assertively. Of course, an exchange of views may lead eventually to a common viewpoint, or it may result in continued disagreement--or in some combination of the two. By merely engaging in the above dialogue, the two (or more) parties have implicitly accepted the fundamental premise of the democratic process which is that each person's needs and rights will be considered in a fair process (under rules that apply equally to all participants) that invites mutually respectful participation by all parties, arrives at a decision point, and either resolves the issue in a binding way or achieves a nonviolent acceptance of unresolved differences and keeps the lines of communication open. Relationship, as Martin Buber pointed out, is as fundamental as each of the persons in a relationship. [Buber, 1958] The content, style, and quality of the relationship is mutually causal with the content, style, and quality of the individuals involved. One aspect of relationship worth emphasizing in the context of this brief discussion is that relationships, like light and like time, are both discrete and continuous. We can conceive of relationship in terms of both continuous streams and discrete or episodic events, as both analogical and digital. Frequently we cannot resolve a conflict or a problem in one discrete episode. A mutually causal, positive feedback cycle of deconstructive criticism, i.e., a vicious circle of "other-correction without self-correction," often associated with--or constrained by--an intensely negative affect, may sometimes be too difficult to transform into a mutually constructive process. Communication may then be stopped--giving each party time to move to another position or frame of reference. Resumption of communication may then occur within a new frame of reference--and hopefully, in association with a more positive affect--or by returning to the previous conflict but this time without the intensely negative affect. Relationship is thus complex, and we should not require the resolution of every conflict. We should, however, strive for--as described by Sylvan Tomkins--the maximization of positive affect, minimization of negative affect, and the minimization of affect inhibition. "Power to maximize positive affect, to minimize negative affect, to minimize affect inhibition should be maximized." [Tomkins, 1962] The three-part communication model, which can be used for the communication of all types of affectively laden messages, should be taught and practiced throughout our educational system and throughout our lives as individuals. It is a simple art form which requires much practice and repetition, and it is part of the art of everyday living. More elaborate and sophisticated methods of communication designed especially for negotiating are also available. [Fisher, 1981] We should also bear in mind that there are some individuals and some human systems that simply will not participate in such a model of communicative action or will not participate honestly. They are nondemocratic or antidemocratic, and we must be prepared to cope with these personalities and with those larger political entities who refuse to sincerely engage on the basis of this communicative model. They are angry, have a different value system, a private agenda, a "higher calling," or an authoritarian reference point, and they simply remain closed to other points of view, to real communication and negotiation, or to the principle of nonviolent conflict resolution. Such systems, if aggressive, may have to be countered with force in order to prevent the destruction of democratic systems or of life itself. In the long process of human evolution, however, violent political systems will for the most part be replaced by the syntropic response to the (Prisoner's) Dilemma of the Commons. In summary, the full development of the individual is important to all democratic systems both as an end in itself and as a means to better democracies, and ultimately, to better ecosystems and a better world system. While we could not explore the full complexity of this subject here, we can and must support (1) a re-orientation of thinking about the structure of the individual personality in relation to democracy, (2) a better balance between individual rights and individual responsibilities in democracies, and (3) ongoing research on the subject of the education and development of individual skills in democratic societies. Families Family systems are the first and principle span on the bridge between the psycho-biological aspects of individual life and the social life of the human community, yet most people learn almost nothing in our schools or from the mass media about the vast amount of knowledge that has been acquired in the last fifty years about family systems. The family system is the "model of the social world" that most of us are born into, and its structure and dynamics--like that of larger communities--are both embedded in, and are a function of, a set of biological, social, economic, political, and cultural constraints. The importance, then, of the family system in transforming a newborn babe into a creative, productive, and self-fulfilling adult citizen is obvious. Even in the Israeli kibbutzim, where there have been exceptionally good alternatives to family childcare, there has recently been a reversion to greater emphasis on family based childcare, especially for the first three years of life. [Etzioni, 1992] Most modern societies have not been organized to support the health of families and children. In the competition between nations and among corporations, short term economic considerations have assumed higher priority than the quality of family life. As a result, the health of our children, who flow into the social pool as water from the springs of family life, is devalued and degraded. Their motivation, their self-esteem, their commitment to values beyond themselves, their ability to concentrate and achieve, are all too often damaged by those societies which rob children, individuals, parents, and families in order to pay more to corporate and other economic interests. Recent small concessions to the importance of family life by Western governments and corporations notwithstanding, we have much work to do if we wish to restore health to this fountain of youth upon which all human life ultimately depends. Why should we support the tradition of the family instead of well-organized, community-based childcare? Family-based childcare is primary, but since both are necessary to modern society the emphasis here is on both. Each is a link, and each has a necessary role to play. If children simply sprung from the heads of their parents, then perhaps at birth we could immediately hand them over to community-based childcare centers. However, the bonding between parents and child begins in the love between two people and grows throughout the period of gestation--if not with both parents participating then at least between the mother and fetus. At birth the bonds become even stronger though now through different means. The child can be separated from parents at birth and raised elsewhere in love and with good results, but optimal results occur when the bonds are more gradually transferred from the mother's body through parental nurturing, and through the special love and joy that is communicated to an infant by its parents. These bonds are then transferred to the nuclear family, on to the extended family, to family friends, then peer groups, the local community, the nation, and in the future--to the world community. In this long process, if things go well, the structures of bonding slowly progress from early primitive to mature, mutually respectful, democratic decision-making processes among autonomous personalities. The earliest communications between infants and parents are expressions of need and of love. In every one of these interactions there are some elements of the Prisoner's Dilemma, but the Iterated Prisoner's Dilemma (IPD) is too narrowly defined as a model of interaction to fit mother-infant relations. Defection for personal gain at the expense of the other may occur consciously or unconsciously in that relationship, but when it does occur it is most likely due to an impaired mother or to a biologically determined function of inequality--an inequality that is theoretically absent from the IPD model. Parental love that is essentially unconditional teaches trust and cooperation for mutual benefit. When a child first enters the relations of competitive, and sometimes cruel, advantage-taking in the marketplace a difficult and often painful adjustment has to occur. As a child moves from the protective love of the parents to the "viciousness" of market-type exchange relations with siblings or strangers there is usually some support for innocence, but sooner or later someone takes advantage of that innocence. Only then, with the unconscious rules and assumptions of the Iterated Prisoner's Dilemma now fully in effect, does the democratic principle of isonomic fairness begin to dawn in individual consciousness, then to be fully experienced together with its possible violations. As the child's nervous system matures, age-appropriate decisions are gradually transferred from parents to children. Attachment behaviors lessen, and over time the child learns independence. Participation in family decision-making, then group, and then community decision-making by democratic processes should be a natural part of this evolution. Parents can, by paying careful attention to this step-wise progression, inculcate both the spirit and the skills needed to be a creative part of future, more advanced democracies. If a culture has many authoritarian structures, then families are likely to reflect and reinforce the authoritarian hierarchies. If we wish to change this mutually reinforcing relationship between family and institutional processes, it makes sense for each of us to intervene at all levels but especially at the level of smaller systems, i.e., the families, where the intervention can be more clearly effected and the feedback loops more clearly designed. To do this, however, without external reinforcement of the family's steps toward democracy would lead eventually to a reversion back to authoritarian families. We need, at the very least, democratic communities and other institutions that will encourage and support the nurturing and age-appropriate learning of democratic decision-making within family systems. Further, we need public educational systems that formally teach family systems theory, family problem-solving, and childrearing in relation to democracy. In short, we need educational systems that focus primarily on the growth of personal and interpersonal skills, and skills necessary to survival of the commons, rather than on the development of skills to be sold in the marketplace--although these skills, too, have their place. Creating such schools may be the most important steps we can take in regaining our common humanity and in preparing for the crises ahead. Family As System and Family As Democracy We have throughout this text emphasized the importance of the idea of the "system." A considerable amount of research has demonstrated the usefulness of a systems theoretical approach to the study of family process. While we cannot review much of this work here I think it is important to define the systems approach with reference to the family and to touch on family processes of special import to the evolution of democracy. A "system" was defined by von Bertalanffy, the principle author of general systems theory, as "any set of interacting elements." In the study of systems there is an initial assumption of isonomia among all the elements, and a change in any one element is assumed to have an effect on all other elements. Among the elements present in every living system, including families, there is a boundary, an energy subsystem, a control structure, and a set of rules for interactions among the members of the system. Among the unwritten rules that underlie family interactions there are two that are in dynamic tension with each other. The first is that nothing should be done to disturb the homeostasis of the family, and the second is that personal growth must be permitted and encouraged by the family. A third and closely related principle is that a transfer of "power" from parents to children, along with concomitant attitudinal changes, is expected at a culturally and an age-appropriate time. To maintain respect for everyone in the family and for all of these three principles requires sensitive and artful communication skills. Other rules can be inferred from observations of specific and repetitive patterns in family interactions. Regularly scheduled family meetings should be organized and held by every family. These should take place once or twice a month, more or less frequently depending on circumstances, and they should last long enough--half hour to an hour or two--for everyone to practice participation in a proto-democratic problem-solving process. When the children are very young the position of Chair should be alternated equally between the two parents, or in extended families, among the several adults. This can and should be done even where family clans include a Patriarch, Matriarch, or a group of Elders as traditional head of the family. By presiding quietly in the background during these family meetings the "traditional leader" of the family can encourage the growth and development of his or her family toward the knowledge and skills needed for participation in the developing world democracy. The Chairperson in a family meeting should ensure that each person, no matter how young, has an equal right and a fair amount of time to speak during the meeting. Each person must be able to speak with a guarantee that no one will later punish him or her for expressing feelings or thoughts about any issue. The meeting may begin with the Chair asking who has an issue they'd like to discuss. When a list of items for discussion has been made the list can be repeated to all so that the agenda will be clear. The Chair then allots time to each item on the agenda and announces when the family will have to move on to the next item. No one should be interrupted when speaking except by the Chair who determines how much time each person should have and then holds each person to that time. When a decision is to made the Chair will decide whether the issue should be put to a vote or be decided by the parents, and the reasons for deciding who will decide should be made clear to everyone. Naturally this will be a more flexible process in family life than in a parliament, but the basic elements of democratic discussion and decision-making will be learned and practiced. In addition to the time spent discussing issues brought up by individual family members, each family should also spend some time (1) planning family events, (2) organizing and assigning family duties, and (3) organizing the family's response to a Global Ecological Action Plan. The Household Eco-Team Handbook: A Six-month Program To Bring Your Household Into Environmental Balance [Gershon, 1992] provides an excellent guide to this highly important task for which every human being should immediately assume personal responsibility. All family meetings, it should be remembered, are metaphors for the mental processes that occur in the mind of its individual members as well as for the democratic processes of the larger community. These family patterns along with the content of communications, will be absorbed in--and to an especially high degree will structure--the minds of the children who are present. One can only begin to imagine how many fewer children will be psychologically wounded--or how many more healthy and creative members of society will be produced--by their families if the above principles of family democracy are universally applied. Groups Children begin to associate with groups, usually under adult supervision, at an early age. Peer interactions in small groups form the second of two major links between the life of the individual and the larger, democratic communities. One to one interactions with siblings and with peers from outside the family can be seen as steps toward involvement with supervised, then independent, peer groups. Socialization in the small group context is crucial to the health of individuals and of the larger community. There are some important studies of group and ingroup-outgroup relationships. Muzafer Sherif's "Robbers Cave experiment" demonstrated the dynamics of intergroup conflict and cooperation. [Sherif, 1988] Stanley Milgram's experiments[Milgram, 1974] on "obedience to authority" in group situations provided startling examples of a ready response to authoritarian leadership in individuals supposedly well-grounded in democratic principles, as did Phillip Zimbardo's study of prison and prison guard behavior in a group of university students in the United States. Arthur Deikman's study of behavior in cults, appropriately entitled The Wrong Way Home, closely examines the thoughts and feelings of "fair-minded" individuals caught up in an authoritarian group situation. Bion's studies of group psychology at the Tavistock Clinic in England provide further useful information on the whys and wherefores of behavior in nondirected groups. All of these studies relate to pathologies of authoritarian leadership that can too easily develop in small groups. They demonstrate the importance of early family and public school training in democratic group process, the importance of immunizing young individuals against authoritarian personalities and processes, and the dangers of deterioration into authoritarian group pathologies. Authoritarian personalities often use a social strategy of projecting "evil" onto other groups in a manner that reinforces the individual's intrapsychic process of denying "evil" within the Self and projecting it on to others. This "us against them" thinking can then be exploited with the effect of rousing the group to aggressive or "defensive" violence--which usually further strengthens the political position of the authoritarian demagogue. Groups which are immersed in a culture that promotes highly polarized thinking in relation to good and evil are particularly vulnerable to this kind of demagoguery. There is perhaps no more important task for the democratic group than reaching a full conscious awareness of this connection between authoritarianism, group dynamics, and the individual's intrapsychic tendency to project "evil" (or evil intent) onto others in a process that leads to violence. Examples of healthier small group interactions are the seven person groups of the Jeffersonian Assemblies, the metaplet groups of children in Israeli kibbutzim, worksite groups and the social councils of the Mondragón workers cooperative, "quality circles" formed by many Japanese manufacturers, the criticism-self-criticism groups formed in some organizations, and the "den," "patrol," and "troop" structures of Scout organizations. Whatever the structure of independent peer groups they are powerful determinants of individual behavior. The young individual is usually quite sensitive to the group's evaluation. From the moment of entrance into any group situation the individual begins a sensitive search for cues as to what behavior is expected, will be approved, or disapproved. Each individual child ought to have formal training in preschool and at school for coping with group pressures, group approval, group misbehavior, and especially, with group disapproval. Early peer interactions should be carefully supervised by adults who are aware that each social event is an important step, not just in an individual child's self-concept or ability to form friendships, but also in the developing ability of the child to participate effectively in the democratic processes by which all children will eventually use to govern their own lives. The moral lessons of fairness, healthy play, equal opportunity, conflict resolution, freedom of self-assertion, expressions of love and mutual support, freedom from unjust coercion, gender and racial equality, organized discussions and democratic decision-making all take their next big steps in these humble interactions among small children. To achieve the learning of these lessons well requires a conscious commitment on the part of a democratic society. Cooperative teaching and learning techniques are becoming increasingly popular in elementary schools and for good reason. They are effective. They can also be used, though they seldom are, to teach self-assertive behavior and to immunize children to the patterns of authoritarian, cultish, substance abuse, or more subtle forms of group pressure. The history, structures, and processes of democracy can best be taught in small groups. Difficult topical issues can be debated and voted upon. Experimentation with different methods of doing this can be highly instructive in personal ways that have strong experiential impact--far exceeding the dry or abstract lessons based on the outlines of democratic history. In the chapter on Communities the nature and importance of small groups for members of a social change community is discussed more fully--along with suggestions for small group activities and goals. Democracy and Its Small Systems It has generally assumed that democracy is a system which allows the smaller elements of society a great deal of freedom. That families, groups, and small communities will do a much better job of organizing themselves than either local or state governments could do for them is not in dispute here. The evidence shows, however, that democracies can guarantee a great deal of freedom for self-development while at the same time providing information and suggesting a framework for healthier families and small groups. As we become healthier, more intelligent, and more responsible members of democratic society, we will need better training, and the necessary information, for a deeper understanding of our own psychological and social processes--especially in relation to authoritarian and democratic structures. The recent history of the United States demonstrates how the quality of life in a democracy deteriorates when special interests capture the governing process and divert resources away from the health, education, socio-economic skills of its citizens, and from the further evolution of its democratic process. On measure after measure, from infant mortality rates, through levels of educational achievement, crime, drug abuse, homelessness, general mortality rate, abuse of minorities, rates of participation in the democratic process, and access to health care all the way to life-span expectancy rates, the United States has ben falling behind other industrialized nations while maintaining high per capita incomes, higher productivity rates, higher GDP, and greater military strength than any other nation on Earth. If a people wish to have a strong democracy they must invest heavily in the education and all-around quality and creativity of both their citizens and their democratic processes. This means paying careful attention to the development of the "spiritual" and psychological bases of democracy in each citizen and to the families, small groups, and small communities which nourish and train individuals to become participants in a democratic society. Far too much emphasis, especially in public schools and universities in the United States, has been placed on teaching individuals to become producers and consumers of economic goods within a framework of corporate values. There were some, like Lincoln, who thought democracy to be an end in itself, a people's government--of, by, and for the people. De Toqueville thought democracy was a "great leveler." A study of the forces, personalities, and decisions involved in the writing of the U.S. Constitution might have led to a more cynical conclusion. There was a clear effort on the part of the majority at the U.S. Constitutional Convention to prevent such radical democrats from eroding the power and privileges of the propertied elite. The system they devised, while a great leap toward democracy, ensured that the wealthy could stay wealthy and keep most of the population divided against itself while the aristocrats pulled all the strings in a government that appeared on the surface to be a people's democratic, self-government. The underlying ideational goal of western capitalist democracies, whether consciously intended or not, was not simply to produce societies fit for the wealthy special interests and for the "naturally occurring" homo economicus whose guiding principle was a narrowly defined, rational self-interest. The end result has the look of a much grander design. The system now actually seeks--partly by accident and partly by intention--to create a homo economicus out of each human being so that each person will keep busy producing and consuming, with an increasing imbalance toward consumption--and too busy to notice the size of the profits and who is controlling them. By working, buying, and selling within the rules of a complex set of market relations, tastes induced by advertising, and artificially contrived needs we remain distracted, politically uninvolved, and politically ineffective. We applaud when a few of us get rich or richer, because it seems to confirm what we are told--that in our system it can happen to each of us. So we stay out of the way, and wait and hope and allow special interests to continue to amass huge profits from the rest of us--without fully realizing the degree to which those special interests have warped our democratic processes. That, of course, is an appraisal of capitalist democracy that is reminiscent of the Marxist critique. The view expressed here, however, is grounded in the idea that history is not motored primarily by conflicts between classes and punctuated by great revolutions but by an uneven evolution of human organization, intelligence, adaptation, and creative problem-solving. Our present "democracies," in this theory, stand in the middle of a long evolution--which encompasses revolutions and devolutions--through various kinds of authoritarian systems toward a far more democratic future. Little by little, sometimes faster, sometimes slower, authoritarian rulers who demand faith, loyalty, and tribute give way to a global system of distributed power, information, wealth, human abilities, and decision-making that is more just and more durable. Even when the transition to global democracy is achieved, however, history does not come to an end. We then proceed through stages of democracy whose history cannot yet be fully imagined.