“I want to make something happen! “
We live in times when creative inspiration has expanded beyond anything we have ever seen before.
People across the developed world, and the developing world are involved in the creative process in ways that appear historically unprecedented. From the intricacy and complexity of human interconnection to the sheer volume and scope of innovation, we live in a world that shifts and transforms rapidly. New technologies are developed and improved. New ideas and knowledge create greater diversity and new areas of specialization. Ideas that seemed like fantasies a decade ago are becoming surprisingly real. And as a testament to this, we even hold conventions dedicated to the display and promotion of new ideas and innovations.
This spectacle inspires awe and a host of other reactions, but when we look beyond the surface, we see real individuals taking on more ownership of their creative inspiration and potential than we have ever seen. And this is truly impressive.
Yet, within a world exploding with creative agency, there remain gaps – areas of life that see remarkably little innovation. While creative engagement runs free in the marketplaces of ideas, of technology, and of social interaction, there are arenas in which creative agency is noticeably lacking. And government is one of these.
I have realized, through my experience in the United States, that our general population commonly experiences frustration with politics, specifically with regard to our ability to take action and effectively address important issues. Whether we are speaking of climate change, the national debt, immigration reform, or balancing individual rights with social safety nets and proactive policy, many of us intuit that things don’t change much, or fast enough. Maybe we even conclude that our government doesn’t, or can’t, enact important principles that represent everything we believe to be good and right in the world.
Look at the common misgivings people have with government and politicians: suspected corruption, partisan gridlock, unfettered external influences, elections characterized by “the lesser of two evils,” dishonest or immoral representation, and the constant suspicion of conspiracy. It is clear that many of us don’t esteem our leadership much, which is disheartening to say the least.
I suspect, though, that our lack of confidence in our government engenders a strong desire to change our predicament, to do something important to bring dignity into our political world. I know I want a positive change.
But what, as citizens, can we do? Short of dedicating our lives to politics, our participation is noticeably limited. Yes, we can vote to elect representatives, start or sign petitions, and call our elected officials. We can give money to campaigns or political activists. We protest or change our facebook profiles. Although this list starts to seem significant, and in a certain way it is, these options, in the light of our highest creative aspirations, can seem like mere tokens of participation. We can participate in all of these ways day after day as citizens, as activists, and yet the conditions of our discontent remain.
What’s more, sincere political contributions, more often than not, fail to produce true novelty. Watered-down bills, coalitions that fall apart, and issues drowned out by familiar rhetoric and partisan maneuvering compound our frustration. Most of the time it seems like nothing is getting done. This indicates that either our voices aren’t being heard, that our politicians aren’t acting in our interest, or that the process of integrating a host of different opinions leads to complex arrangements that are better described as compromises than constructive innovations.
Occasionally, some issue seems to move of its own accord. Out of the muck comes real change. For a moment, inspired action seems possible. But underneath the surface, while those of us who agree with the direction and momentum of these developments are happy at the outcome, the question remains: how deeply do we feel that we did this?
Were my actions influential? Were my best intentions heard and considered? It would be great if an individual could know, but in our unwieldy political landscape, making a determination proves itself nearly impossible.
I want to take a moment to recognize that our government was made to be difficult and reasonably slow. Checks and balances, term limits, protocols that require representation and majorities are intentional structures by means of which our founders envisioned ways to prevent individuals from holding too much power. And this is a very good foundation for us to work upon. But this system was designed for a world whose character has changed in profound and unexpected ways. Given such change, there are questions we ought to address. Does our government work too slowly now? Does the degree of change our Constitution allows fully accommodate for the specialization, and the diversity of values we see today? Can our system make sense of all our creative activity, can it synthesize it to create a unified society? There is a difference between deliberation and structural inertia and it behooves us to examine whether we are straddling the line between the two, especially when it comes to policies and legislation that need significant improvement.
So to return to the question, what kind of creative agency do we have in our system? What is the essence of our participation? As citizens do we participate in the conversation about our future? And to what degree? Are protests enough to shift the direction of policy? When we blog or tweet or exercise our rights of expression, how much does this influence the political process?
Is it jaded to think that our participation, on an average day, is a show of support or disapproval of a conversation that power brokers are having at a different table in a different room? Or is this just a fair assessment of the real conditions of our mode of governing? If this is an accurate portrayal of how our system works, then we are confronted with this question: is it possible to restructure our system and redefine our relationship to governance such that our actions and conversations as individuals are part of the same conversation, so that we are not so segregated from our representation? Can we create a natural flow to our participation such that popular participation and representation become one profoundly seamless process? We may indeed prove capable of better arranging ourselves, such that our time and energy is not wasted in unnecessary conflict and unintelligible noise. Yet our capacity to build new systems and agreements depends on our willingness to explore novel arrangements and interactions that better focus our efforts to create a more perfect world.
Ultimately, our political process should make sense. To a degree, it does already, in that we have a system in which proposals and ideas must prove themselves worthy of institutionalization, but I am convinced that we can do better, that governance can make far more sense than we currently know. And even while I am convinced that this is so, I ask you to engage with these same questions and grapple with our persistent situation. Does our process make sense to you? Can we, need we do better?
positive governance 