October Wrap-Up: 5 Articles Worth Reading

Kirsten McHugh, The Good Project Researcher

While it’s important to stay informed, the deluge of election and pandemic coverage can at times become overwhelming. Take a momentary break to reset and check out what we have been reading this month.

  1. The Harvard Business Review recently published a piece by Kristi Hedges in which she references The Good Project’s Value Sort in an article on the importance of finding a workplace that reflects your own values. Hedges argues that going into an interview with a firm understanding of your own values will allow you to ask the kinds of questions that get at the heart of what is truly important at the company you are considering.

  2. When considering the scale of a global pandemic and talks of a looming threat to US democracy, cheating in your studies might seem like small potatoes. That being said, you during this politically polarized time, you might wonder where all the honest people have gone. In this vein, The Chronicle of Higher Education explores cheating in their recent article “Students Cheat. How Much Does It Matter?”. 

  3. New technology always promises to make our lives easier, but do the small gains actually deliver us to a better tomorrow? In a recent Harvard Gazette article, Ben Boothman examines the promise of AI in contrast to the potential ethical pitfalls to society embedded within the code.

  4. Check out a review of Dr. Howard Gardner’s latest book, A Synthesizing Mind: A Memoir From The Creator Of Multiple Intelligences Theory featured in The Washington Post. Gardner was also interviewed about his memoir by R. Bruce Rich at the Harvard Advanced Leadership Initiative.

  5. The Black Lives Matter Movement has many of us asking ourselves how we can do more in our professional lives to end systemic racism. This month, The Atlantic’s Kristina Rizga interviews veteran history teacher Robert Roth and learns how Roth has spent his career fighting for racial justice through his teaching.

From all of us at The Good Project, have a Happy (and safe) Halloween!

The Costs of Meritocracy:  Two Destructive Forms of Being “Smart”

by Howard Gardner (with comment by Michael Sandel)

Michael Sandel, highly esteemed political philosopher at Harvard, has written The Tyranny of Meritocracy—a powerful indictment of contemporary society—especially the versions in the United States and England. In this provocative book , Sandel reflects at length about the importance nowadays of being ‘smart’.  As one who has spent four decades critiquing the use of the word “intelligent” I paid careful attention to Sandel’s words and his case.

Coined in the middle 1950s by British social analyst Michael Young, “meritocracy” denotes a state of affairs: a once aristocratic, inherited society is taken over by individuals presumed to be more talented and more appropriate leaders  for the various sectors of the sector. At first blush, this transfer of power and authority sounds good and right—we should be led and inspired by people of ability (think: House of Commons), rather than by people who inherit their  wealth, title, and position (think: House of Lords). Even though Young wrote in an ironic spirit—do we really want the students with the highest grades in school to be entrusted with decision about war, peace, trade, health, and the like—the concept of meritocracy has come to be used positively. Indeed, both Presidents Clinton and Obama spoke explicitly and continuously about the importance of a society in which merit is awarded… and awarded again.

Very important for these and other contemporary leaders is “being smart.” In these days of Google counts, we no longer have to wave our hands about such an assertion. President Obama talked explicitly about “smart” over and over again—in his own words, smart policy,  smart foreign policy, smart regulations, smart growth, smart spending cuts, smart grids, smart technologies. Overall, he used the adjective “smart” in connection with politics and programs more than 900 times! So, too, did his meritocratically- disposed predecessor Bill Clinton. 

In fact, even Donald Trump, in so many ways different from these Democrats, insists over and over again that he is smart, “very smart”; his cabinet has the highest possible IQ: his uncle was a professor at MIT; he brags about his family’s matriculation at the Wharton School; Joe Biden is “slow”; indeed, in the debate on September 29 of this year, he pounced on Biden’s use of the word “smart” and denigrated his opponent’s intellect and school grades.  

The exuberance about intellect transcends party lines and epochs—indeed, Sandel might claim, there is not even a counter-story. No one explicitly calls for the return of a hereditary aristocracy or even of inherited wealth and positions…. though Trump does profess to love “the poorly educated.”

Sandel takes his critique very far.  As his title suggests, a celebration of—or even a reluctant surrender to—meritocracy has proved to be disastrous for the contemporary world. On his account: individuals who do well in school and on standardized tests get to attend elite, selective colleges; secure well-paying jobs with concomitant “perks”;  and pass on these social benefits to their children. The statistics are overwhelming, irrefutable, chilling. And even those meritocrats who acknowledge that they may not be wholly responsible for their own success cannot help looking down on those who have not done as well in the Darwinian struggle for worldly success.  

More seriously and more destructively—on Sandel’s account—those who have not attended or failed to graduate from college, and may not even have a steady “respectable” job, feel frowned upon, ignored, or deemed to be “deplorables” mired in “fly-over country.” Ultimately, this state of affairs leads to a society at war with itself, and, quite possibly, the end to democracy and the American (or another national) dream. 

Sandel proposes two kinds of solution: 1) technological—for example,  changing radically the way that one selects among applicants for admission to elite colleges; 2) communal and even spiritual—considering all citizens as equally worthy of respect and conveying that respect in every possible way.

Sandel’s impressive  (but also depressing) account stimulates two lines of thought—both connected to my own decades-long reflection on intelligence. As most readers of this blog will know, I took the lead in challenging the notion of a single intelligence, as measured by an IQ or SAT test, and in calling instead for a recognition of different kinds of intelligence, and perhaps as well, an honoring of these different kinds of minds. While notions like “social” or “emotional” intelligence have entered into public discourse, they do not emerge in Sandel’s analysis.

That’s OK by me. But to nuance Sandel’s analysis, I’d suggest that the kinds of intelligence or intelligences honored in 2020 are quite different from those that were valued in earlier epochs. As just one example: 150 years ago, admission to selective colleges required mastery of ancient languages—so-called linguistic intelligence. Nowadays, no one cares about languages (let alone classical ones), but coding and computing intelligences (logical-mathematical intelligence) is at a premium. And as machines get “smarter”, we may well be selecting for yet different kinds of intelligence—ones that are not relevant to machines—such as musical, bodily, or personal intelligences. The  word “smart” may not change—but the knowledge and skills to which it refers can and does change radically. And indeed, some of our most successful entrepreneurs—see Bill Gates and Steve Jobs—never even completed college because their temperament and ambitions were misaligned to the agenda of college. Ultimately, of course, they received their share of honorary degrees. Even Donald Trump, who apparently had someone else take his SATs and refuses to reveal his college grades, clearly has “media” intelligence.

So much for smartness—where, as I say, Sandel’s argument poses no problem for me. But I have considerable unease with his overall recommendation—that meritocracy should be replaced by conferring dignity on all human beings.  As I read Sandel, all human beings are worthy of dignity or respect (I prefer the latter term), independent of who they are, how they behave, how they think about the world.  This may sound reasonable at first blush, but it’s not the way that I conceive the issue.

My view: As  they grow—indeed, as we grow—individuals should be expected to behave with respect towards others, both those known to them and  those who are strangers. And when faced with challenging issues or ideas, all human beings should attempt to deal with them as sensitively and sensibly as possible.  Millionaires or even billionaires should not be treated with respect because of the money that they have inherited or amassed; rather, they need to earn that status by how they behave, and to be deprived of that status when they misbehave. By the same token, the plumber or electrician or waiter—three examples frequently used by Sandel and other philosophically oriented analysts—are entitled to as much respect and dignity as the rich person, but not just by dint of their vocation….but rather in light of how they behave toward others, normally, day in and day out.

Of course, how we behave toward others is not something that we are born with. Rather it’s what we garner from family, neighbors, friends, lessons in school and in religious settings, from what we read and view in schools, in movie houses, and nowadays, especially, online.  And here is where my intuitions may differ from  those of Michael Sandel. I don’t think that good, moral, respectful behavior is any more or any less likely from those who win the meritocratic laurels than from those who for whatever reason do not seek or display those laurels.  

In neither case is one’s deportment toward others a function of intelligence—however it’s defined and/or measured. As I have often argued, an intelligence can be used positively or destructively. Both Goethe and Goebbels had high linguistic intelligence in German; Goethe wrote estimable poetry, Goebbels fomented hatred. Both Mandela and Milosevic had plenty of interpersonal; intelligence—Mandela brought together long hostile parts of the South African population, Milosevic fomented ethnic cleansing.

Whether smart or not smart in one or another way (whatever one’s array of intelligences), whether a winner or a loser in a particular meritocratic sweepstakes (whether a CEO or a blue collar worker) is independent of whether one is worthy of respect or dignity.  One develops those assets in the course of life—it’s never too early but it may never be too late either.  And a society in which individuals respect one another for how they relate to others is the one in which I would like to live.

© Howard Gardner 2020

Comment by Michael Sandel:

Howard, I think there is some confusion here. I do believe that all human beings are worthy of dignity or respect, independent of who they are and how they behave. This is the basic Kantian idea underlying respect for human rights.  It has nothing to do with intelligence, whether of one kind or many kinds.  Even a war criminal such as Milosevic, for example, is worthy of respect in this Kantian sense.  Though he deserves moral condemnation and punishment for his crimes, it would be wrong to torture him.  I doubt we disagree about this. (You’ll tell me if I’m wrong.)

But Kantian respect for persons as persons, or human dignity as such, is not my alternative to meritocracy.  By emphasizing the dignity of work, I am proposing that we broaden our understanding of what counts as contributing to the common good beyond the value the labor market assigns to our contributions.  This is why I emphasize “contributive justice,” by which I mean conferring appropriate social recognition and esteem on valuable contributions that the market may not properly recognize (such as care work, for example, or the work now being performed “essential workers” during the pandemic).

You rightly draw our attention to yet a third basis of social regard or esteem, having to do with how people behave, whether they treat others with respect, and so on.  So we might distinguish three different grounds of respect:

 (1) Kantian respect for human dignity, which requires that we respect everyone’s human rights, regardless of what work they do or how well they behave;

(2) Respect for the dignity of work, which requires that we accord social recognition to those who make valuable contributions to the common good (typically but not only through work; unpaid community service should certainly count).

(3) Respect or admiration for those who behave morally, which includes treating others with respect but also includes other praise-worthy behavior.

In the book, my primary alternative to meritocracy is #2. But this is not inconsistent with affirming #1 and #3.  I certainly do not think “that good, moral, respectful behavior” is more likely “from those who win the meritocratic laurels than from those who for whatever reason do not seek or display those laurels.” So this is not a point of disagreement between us. 

Response by Howard:

Thanks, Michael, for this very thoughtful and helpful clarification.  I think we are broadly in agreement. I’m not confident that we can simply instruct or encourage individuals to honor all work equally—though it’s been a goal of social reformers for centuries. I have slightly more confidence that we can instruct or encourage individuals to distinguish between highly-paid work, on the one hand, and ‘good work’—work that is excellent, engaging, and ethical, on the other. But I’d be pleased to encourage both approaches.

New Resource: Who is (or isn't) a good worker?

New Resource: Who is (or isn't) a good worker?

By Shelby Clark

I remember one of the first historical figures to ever capture my attention as a child was the multiple Nobel Prize award winning scientist Marie Curie. I had to do a book report for my 5th grade class on a historical person, and somehow I must have stumbled across her biography in our school library. I was fascinated by this person who studied such dangerous materials and made discoveries, but, moreover, I think I was amazed that she was a woman. To this day, she is the only prominent female scientist I can ever recall learning about in school, and perhaps it was that book report that made me think that, one day, perhaps I could be a scientist too. 

At The Good Project we talk a lot about the power of mentors and role models in encouraging good work—work that is excellent, ethical, and engaging. No wonder, then, that with my own six year old daughter, I’m constantly reading her Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls and Women in Science Books—I want her to think about the different possibilities that are open to her in her future. For me, I continue to look to my mentors as sources of inspiration: I know I can’t wait to watch the recently released film, Radioactive, about Marie Curie’s life. 

But why do we look to certain historical figures as mentors? What makes some historical figures’ work ethical, excellent, and engaging, and not others? To start thinking about this question, let’s look at some facts about Marie Curie’s life: 

  1. Seeking education. Marie grew up in Poland during the 1860s and 70s, a time of general civil unrest as Poland sought independence from Russia. Her father, a science teacher, taught her and her sister at home, and, given that women were not allowed to pursue higher education in Poland at the time, Marie decided to continue her education in Warsaw’s “floating university” (secret, informal classes) until she was able to ultimately continue her education in Paris at the age of 24 at the Sorbonne. There, she cleaned university labs to make ends meet, and sometimes rationed food until she “collapsed of weakness.” Ultimately, she earned her physics degree in 1893 and, a year later, her mathematics degree. 

  2. Perseverance. Many accounts of Marie Curie’s life note that it is surprising that she was able to make such groundbreaking scientific discoveries given the deplorable conditions she was working in. The German chemist, Wilhelm Ostwald, described her laboratory workspace as “a cross between a stable and a potato shed.” Despite the difficulty, Marie Curie was able to prevail in making the types of sensitive measurements and analyses needed to discover radioactive elements. Moreover, Marie prevailed in her work despite falling sick time and again from her work with radioactive elements; it is generally agreed that she died from leukemia due to radiation exposure. 

  3. Scientific discoveries. Marie Curie is primarily remembered for her scientific discoveries that led to her two Nobel Prizes for the discoveries of radioactivity (1903) and the elements polonium and radium (1911). In fact, Marie Curie’s 1903 doctoral thesis on radiation was deemed, by her professors, “the greatest single contribution to science ever written.” Today, her discoveries have been important in leading the way for radiation treatments for cancer patients. However, others (such as the recent Radioactive film) have discussed how her discoveries led the way for the development of the nuclear bomb. 

  4. Overcoming Adversity. Throughout her life, Marie Curie’s male colleagues were skeptical of her work and role in the academy. For example, when Marie was to be nominated for the Nobel Prize for her work on radioactivity, her male colleagues argued that the prize should only be split between her co-collaborators Henri Becquerel and Pierre Curie. Eventually, the prize was awarded to all three in 1903, the very first awarded to a woman. She later took over her husband, Pierre’s, professorship at the Sorbonne after his death—again the first woman to do so—yet she was still denied entrance to the French Academy of Sciences. 

  5. Giving Back. Despite groundbreaking discoveries, Marie (and Pierre) Curie never patented their scientific processes surrounding purifying radium, which ultimately meant that other businesses were able to purify their own radium and profit from their sale; indeed, this led to a “radium boom”, with prices for radium soaring up to $100,000. During WWI, Marie Curie developed portable x-ray machines that could be brought onto battlefields, which she nicknamed “Little Curies.” 

Marie Curie as a Good Worker

So is Marie Curie an example of good work? Everyone can have their own answer to this question—it will partially depend on your values. First and foremost, I see Marie Curie as a role model of good work because she was an engaged worker. She found something that was meaningful to her, and she pursued that goal relentlessly, so much so that she was willing to ration her food intake, do her work in a dilapidated shed, combat sexism, leave her home country, and continually battle afflictions in order to pursue her goal. I certainly wouldn’t expect us all to go to such lengths in pursuit of our goals, but I find it inspiring to think about what it means to give your all for something in the pursuit of doing good; without her sacrifices, we may not have saved the millions of people today who are treated with radiation therapy. 

One also can’t deny that Marie Curie is an exemplar of excellent work—there’s not much to say here when her professors deemed her dissertation “the greatest single contribution to science ever written.” But it’s interesting to think about the types of dispositions and virtues that Marie Curie must have had to draw on to be as excellent as she was; as noted, her workspace was prone to wild swings in temperature and humidity, and yet she was extremely exacting in her measurements and analyses—such dedication would require immense attentiveness to detail. 

Finally, was Marie Curie an ethical worker? It’s harder for me to say. On the one hand, her work is the foundation of modern day radiotherapy, something for which I am profoundly grateful. She was also committed to medical work during her lifetime, developing her “little Curies” to be deployed during WWI. On the other hand, although she was not involved with the work (dying before the development of the Manhattan Project), her work paved the way for the development of the atomic bomb. I do find it admirable and ethical that Marie Curie did not needlessly profit off her discoveries during her lifetime, but instead donated her work to the scientific community and to the people. It is unfortunate that her work was then abused by others. 

Our New Resource!

This blog serves as an announcement of our new activity and lesson plan entitled, “Who is (or isn't) a good worker?” In the activity, we offer examples of four well-known "workers" (Marie Curie, James Earl Jones, Frida Kahlo, and Jackie Robinson) and provide short biographies that offer glimpses into the ways these figures may or may not uphold the 3 Es (excellence, ethics, and engagement) of Good Work. Each biography is followed by reflection questions surrounding good work principles. Students also have the option to complete their own biographical profile of a figure of their choice, researching and exploring multiple facets of the person’s life.

GCI Series: Marisa and Good Work

The Global Citizens Initiative hosts an annual Fellowship Summit to cultivate young “global citizens” to become “lifelong leaders of positive change.” In July of 2019, 28 high school students from 15 different countries gathered together for a 10-day experience in Tokyo, Japan.  These students are each responsible for the design and development of a service learning project to be carried out over the course of a 10 month period.  Their projects are “glocal” – addressing a global problem at a local level.  In Tokyo, the students were supported by a group of Teaching Assistants, themselves all alumni of the GCI Fellowship Program.  The Good Project has been in consultation with GCI since its formation, and we follow the work of its participants with interest.  We recently had the opportunity to catch up with several GCI alums and ask them about their work, their thoughts about Good Work, and reflections about their experiences with GCI.


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My name is Marisa Nakagama, and I am a rising senior studying Animal Science and Nutrition & Health at Cornell University. I was born in Westchester, NY but have lived in Connecticut, Illinois and even Saba, a Dutch Carribean island! I love studying the connection between animal, environmental, and human health and hope to become a doctor who emphasizes this significant intersection. Outside of school, I have a huge passion for weightlifting and exploring different cultures through cuisine.

What does it mean to do “good work” today? 

As simple as it sounds, I think doing “good work” today starts from a yearning to learn about others, but also yourself, and then take action. Whether this work represents the quality of your workplace or charitable acts, this “goodness” stems from trying to improve yourself or the community around you, and this starts with learning. By “learning,” I do not necessarily mean education. I am talking about genuinely sitting down and listening to what people say and think while also understanding yourself and recognizing what you have to offer as well.

Everyone experiences life differently, which means everyone has a story to tell and lessons to share. Through the simple act of listening, you connect to different people, career industries, and cultures. With productive listening comes respect and appreciation for each other. I think this inevitably leads to stronger self-esteem, but it also builds stronger relationships. All these little steps, from self-confidence to stronger connections with the people around us, can help us learn about the communities around us.

Tell us about your understanding of community.  What are the communities of which you feel a part?

To me, a community means a group of people, a place or space where I belong and where I can learn and grow. A community doesn’t judge or coerce me into changing who I am, but it appreciates my individuality, keeps me in check, and continuously motivates me to be better. One community I am a part of is my university. This community, from my professors to my peers, constantly pushes me to expand my knowledge, challenges me to get out of my comfort zone, and is shaping me into the person I am becoming. This community is not only academic but social, one where I can continue to strengthen my relationships with my friends.

GCI has been a community I have loved being a part of since 2014. Even though its members are all over the world, the sense of community and tremendous love I feel from GCI shows how strong this community is. It’s incredible to see it grow every year. I’m so grateful for social media and technologies such as Zoom because I can stay connected to this community no matter where we are in the world. With COVID-19 this year, unfortunately the summit planned for 2020 was cancelled. However, GCI and its members didn’t fail to stay connected, through Zoom virtual harkness sessions and hangouts! A great session I got to participate in was with a pharmacist, Dr. Tavajay Campbell. While we all got to learn more about the virus and its vaccine development from him, we also got to engage in further discussions such as the recent BLM movement. It was wonderful to be able to remain connected with the GCI family and continue to hear international perspectives all from my room in New York.

Another community I am a part of is my family. I am extremely fortunate to have such a supportive family behind me. I recognize that I wouldn’t be half the person I am today or even where I am today without all the hard work my parents, grandparents, and others (the list goes on) have accomplished.

Finally, another community important to note is my local community. Whether that be the friendly chef at the local deli who always makes my day with the most delicious lox bagels, or the loving neighbors I always see during my walks with my dogs, these people and the small but exciting interactions I get to have with them make me happy, and shape the person I am, every day.

Is there a particular role model who has helped inspire you to do “good work,” either real or fictional? What is it about this role model that has inspired you?

My dad has always been my role model. When he first graduated university in Japan (with a major in American History), he took the stereotypical Japanese white-collar road to work in finance. Although things are different now, back then it was pretty standard that most college graduates simply found an office job within the country. During his time working in finance, he had a business trip to attend in New York City. Once he got to New York, he quit his job. He realized it wasn’t what he wanted to do at all. He returned to college and ultimately attended medical school in a new country where chemistry and anatomy weren’t nearly as challenging as the language. Though it was a daunting challenge, my dad recognized and followed his own dreams. When applying the idea of “good work” to his journey, I think what resonates is that he learned about himself and recognized his finance job wasn’t fulfilling. Though he was significantly older than most medical school students, he was able to step forward and take on a challenge. Rather than continuing work in a field he wasn’t very interested in, he used his passion to accomplish productive “good work” by helping patients through medicine. Making such a drastic career change can be difficult for some. Personally, I’m not sure if I could take such a sudden turn in my life if I had already been working within a field for over ten years. He inspires me to push myself out of my comfort zone and pursue my long-term goals. as long as I have a passion for it, even if the journey might be difficult.

Tell us about your work. What projects are you currently involved with? How might what you are doing now relate to the work you began with GCI?

Currently, I am involved with a public health project that emphasizes the importance of outdoor education for the mental health of school children. Outdoor education has substantial benefits for children ranging from increased confidence to higher empathy towards others. Through literature reviews and advocacy research, we are finding ways to make a change in school curriculums locally (and hopefully nationally) to include more time outdoors.

Within my preprofessional fraternity, we support the Gift of Life Marrow Registry and hold blood drives, knowing that as students, taking a little time out of our days to donate blood and stem cells could change someone else’s life. We also consistently hold fundraisers for many other local and national organizations, such as the Finger Lakes Cancer Resource Center and the International Medical Corps. Additionally, we hold educational events for our school community. Our most recent event was a professional panel related to the COVID-19 pandemic, led by our university’s notable virologists.

Finally, another club I am involved with is Merlin’s Kids, an organization that trains rescued shelter dogs to become service dogs for special needs individuals, disabled war veterans and other candidates who need physical and emotional support. I adore the organizations mantra: “Saving two lives at a time.”

While all of these projects aren’t necessarily related, I believe they are small but significant changes I can make in my community and definitely relate to the GCI goals of empowering lifelong leaders of positive change. I have definitely utilized the skills, lessons, and stories I learned from GCI, such as leadership and communication, for the projects I am involved with today.

How do you feel your current projects are connected or not to this view of “good work”? 

I think all of my projects aim for positive outcomes and consistently recognize that nothing is perfect—there is always room for improvement whether that be challenging myself or challenging society. Talking to teachers and principals and learning how local schools operate, I can contribute to improving children’s early mental and physical development by trying to get them outside, challenging the norm of the current curriculum. Preparing philanthropic events and attempting to make the most of my time within my university community, I might be a catalyst in finding a donor for someone who needs a bone marrow transplant. Getting to know a sweet lady with anxiety problems, I can help find her the perfect fluffy helping hand (or should I say paw?). Rather than focusing simply on myself, learning about others’ lives and seeing how I can help others is, I think, “good work.” Ultimately, it makes me feel confident in myself as a great individual who can make productive small changes in society.

How and where do you find meaning in your work? 

I find meaning in my work by recognizing that my ability to have the time, the resources, and the support system to pursue actions in order to help others is a gift. I am so grateful that I get to go to a wonderful university, experience the experiences I have been offered, and am cherished by the people who surround me. By appreciating what I have, I feel the motivation to try and make a difference in others’ lives. I know I wouldn’t be where I am today without the sweet helping hands that were offered in my life. The most satisfying feeling is receiving a smile from someone else and that is what I aim for every time I work.

Tell us about your biggest challenges, and how you work to tackle them. 

My current biggest challenge is the MCAT. When I write it out, it seems silly: it’s just a “test,” right? But it seems like a ginormous hurdle for me and my future goals because, without a good score, how can I become a doctor? It has been the test I have dreaded ever since I decided, “Yes, I want to become a doctor,” and it’s perhaps the most terrifying thing to me right now. Biology. Biochemistry. General Chemistry. Organic Chemistry. Physics. And more. It sends shivers down my spine.

I just recently started studying, and I think the thing that has helped me the most is to create a schedule and keep myself accountable. The more I study consistently, the less scared I am. Another way I’ve been tackling the challenge is to not doubt myself so much. A problem I continuously have is that I doubt myself. When I feel this way, I try to reward myself for even little accomplishments. For example, if I was feeling completely unmotivated and unproductive one day, I’d push myself to at least go through some flash cards and call it a day. While I didn’t get through as much as I should have, I tell myself that I at least did something which will definitely show in my progress overall. Again, little steps!

Have you ever faced a dilemma where you weren’t sure what the “right” course of action was? How did you handle this situation?

Recently, the BLM movement has gained huge momentum on Instagram, with users and influencers posting infographics, quotes, and more. I absolutely loved the idea of using such a powerful outlet to promote the movement, believing I could further educate myself, both on the movement and on the history of black oppression in the country. However, I came across a dilemma. Some users aggressively call out those who chose to “stay silent” on the app, those who choose not to post anything on their profiles in support of the movement. I was one of those people who “stayed silent,” but I didn’t “stay silent” because I didn’t care about the movement. Though I was silent on Instagram, I was, and still am, proactive and constantly trying to read, watch, listen to many different sources to educate. I didn’t feel as though I needed to post every day to show my support and people in my friend group also felt the same way. Unfortunately however, our silence on a social media platform caused the loss of a friend within our group:  we were “unfollowed”, “unfriended” and “blocked”. At that point, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to lose a friend. But I also asked myself, if I posted a picture all of a sudden, would I be doing it just “for the trend” and to prevent losing a friend? I had heard plenty of stories of broken friendships and individuals who were ostracized, simply because they didn’t post a black photo for #BlackoutTuesday. After days of thinking, I decided to post one post, one that explained that I support the movement but that I also believe that now is not the time where people should be causing more animosity. Now is not the time where we should judge one another based on what we say or do on social media. Now is not the time to cause more separation between people. Now is the time for everyone to come together, regardless of race, gender, sexuality, and be better in solidarity, whether that be on social media or outside of it. While at first I was torn about the “right” action, I was brave enough to post something about my thoughts without changing who I am or what I was doing based on a social media trend.

John F. Kennedy and the Rings of Responsibility

by Howard Gardner

For those of us over the age of 70, the name “John F. Kennedy” brings back vivid memories: his youthful energy,  meteoric rise to the presidency,  apparently storybook marriage, event-filled 1000 days in his office—and of course, his tragic assassination and the ill luck that plagued and has continued to plague the Kennedy family.  As his aide Daniel Patrick Moynihan reflected shortly after Kennedy’s death, “We’ll laugh again but we’ll never be young again.”

Of course, for those a generation younger, Ronald Reagan is vivid while Kennedy is but a distant name—just as, for my parents’ generation, Franklin Roosevelt dominated their consciousness, while his cousin Theodore was just for the history books... and the face of Mt Rushmore.

But whether you know the details of Kennedy’s life, or just some headlines from movies or  stories, you probably have an opinion of his presidency:  how successful it was, whether he achieved what he wanted, whether what he achieved was good for the country, how he related to persons, institutions, and issues—to put it bluntly, whether, as a president, he carried out “good work”, was OK, or not up to the task.

I’ve wondered this myself for many years—and my own views have swung back and forth. 

On the ‘"good Kennedy” side of the scale:  he was highly intelligent and articulate, made excellent appointments, and after some early blunders, reached wise and courageous decisions, particularly with reference to foreign affairs.  Of critical importance, once he realized that the struggle for control over Vietnam was a never-ending morass, he would have found a way to withdraw American forces…. and the latter part of the 1960s would have been entirely different

On the “not good” side of the scale:  he was a spoiled East Coast playboy.  His father, a person of great wealth and questionable ethical standards, “bought” his son elected offices, including the presidency.  JFK himself was an ardent cold warrior; he displayed cowardice with respect to the case of Senator Joseph McCarthy and was as diffident as possible on civil rights.  And as a man of the mid-century, who had accused the Republicans of allowing a missile gap with the Soviet Union, he would never have had the courage to withdraw from Indo-China .

But now I have two new tools with which to ponder this question: a biographical tool—an impressive biography of the young Kennedy; and a conceptual tool—the rings of responsibility

A Biographical Tool

I had thought that we had our fill of books about JFK, but now Swedish-born Harvard historian Fredrik Logevall has written a hefty volume on the first part of Kennedy’s life—up through his unsuccessful bid for the vice-presidency in 1956. (Still to come in Volume 2: JFK’s run for the presidency in the late 1950s; his closely won election in 1960; and the 1000 days before his assassination). The book is thoroughly researched, carefully argued, and well written. I doubt that we will need to have another book on young Kennedy. Unlike Robert Caro, author of five volumes on Lyndon Johnson, Logevall has not devoted most of his writing life to a single President—and yet, the Logevall volumes may well become the definitive life of JFK.

As one who has become increasingly critical of JFK over the years, I can affirm that Logevall does not attempt to hide JFK’s weak spots—his reckless womanizing,  even with women whose other political or criminal liaisons were being investigated by the FBI;  his careless treatment of one-time friends, his startling insensitivity to wife Jackie’s wants and needs, his reluctance to speak out on issues of civil rights,  the dispute about how much he  himself wrote of the Pulitzer Prize winning “Profiles of Courage,” and most damningly, his unwillingness first to denounce and then to vote to censure the reckless demagogue Senator Joseph McCarthy (who was  a friend of the senior Kennedy and for a time the boss of brother Robert Kennedy).  At the same time,  JFK seems to be admired by the author—I expect that the Kennedy Presidency will get high marks in volume 2.

I’m neither an historian or a biographer.  I was engrossed by the book (read it in two sittings) but don’t feel competent to comment on it critically. But as a social scientific researcher—one long interested in what it takes to carry out “good work”—I was struck by an unusual and unexpected aspect of young JFK’s life.

The Rings of Responsibility  

In our studies of ‘good work (thegoodproject.org), we denote and analyze individuals’ recognition of the “rings of responsibility”—these are the areas of life experience about which individuals show (or do not show) concern.  For the most part, young children are interested in and concerned about themselves and their immediate family—psychologists often speak about the egocentrism of the young. Our research has revealed that circles gradually expand—as they grow, individuals become concerned about friends; then about neighbors and those who live in their community; then as they become adults, about the atmosphere and relations at their workplace and the health of their profession; and gradually, in the most impressive cases, about their relation to the wider world, including individuals and even regions of which they do not have much personal experience.

On this analysis JFK turns out to have been very unusual. From a very early age, he was interested in large scale adventures involving conquering heroes; and while many young people, especially boys, admire super-heroes, JFK was equally interested in live historical figures—most particularly, by Winston Churchill. (It helped that as a youth he had met many political and religious leaders, including the Pope, but so had dozens of other young persons who came from powerful families).  Nor did he simply echo his father’s views—while his father clashed repeatedly with Winston Churchill, JFK admired Churchill’s foresightedness and his conduct in the 1930s and thereafter.

An indifferent student throughout his formal education (though he was talented enough and wealthy enough to gain access to elite institutions), young JFK  focused on what he found most intriguing:   political and historical events and figures—the outermost rings in our scheme. That’s what he thought about, studied in depth, wrote about, identified with—from childhood on.

JFK’s family was incredibly close knit. He was the third of nine children; they all spent a great deal of time together and were tightly bonded with one another.  Within the family, the boys took unquestioned precedence; no matter how personally impressive they might have seemed to others, the girls were almost considered decorative. Father Joseph Kennedy was a  lifelong womanizer, whose covert and overt infidelities were tolerated by his wife, and the five sons clearly saw this pattern as one to be emulated—sometimes fathers and sons even competed for the affection of the same woman! 

Tellingly, when any non-family member attempted to broach the family circle in anyway, these ‘intruders’  were clearly and sometimes roughly rebuffed. Indeed, throughout her relatively short and (we learn) very tumultuous marriage to “Jack”, Jacqueline Kennedy never felt that she belonged in the family. The inner ring was very tight and not easily broached. Tragically,  Rosemary,  the one disabled child, was lobotomized and essentially expelled from the family.

Once his older brother Joseph had been killed in an air crash in World War II (when JFK was in his middle 20s), JFK clearly became the family member destined for politics. And indeed, right after the War, with ample help from his father’s financial base and from all members of the family, he was elected to the House of Representatives. He began a rapid rise to the Presidency, indeed at the time of his ascendancy to that office, he was the youngest person ever to win a presidential election.

During his relatively brief terms in the House and Senate, JFK worked hard and was deemed competent; but biographer Logevall  suggests that (unlike most Massachusetts politicians who gained national stature) JFK was really not interested in local or regional issues—and, as noted, the young politician steered away from issues which were controversial and might lose him votes in forthcoming elections.  From his first days in the House of Representatives he had his eye on the Presidency and – with whatever help he could garner—would do what was necessary to achieve that goal. 

Importantly, in addition to the assistance of  cash and kin, Kennedy also had incredible human help along the way—friends, hired staff assistants, and above all Theodore Sorensen, a gifted young lawyer who essentially devoted his life to JFK from the time that they first met in 1953 until Kennedy’s assassination and indeed, one could add, until Sorensen’s own death almost  half a century ahead.

It must be stressed that Kennedy gained the support of such individuals not only for his intellectual and political acumen because of a property that cannot be purchased or faked—personal charisma. Logevall presents numerous vivid examples of how young JFK was able to attract and retain the affection of others—men and women, young and old,  from his own Boston-Irish class and from demographies remote, in person or via the media, notably television . Indeed, few of us who were enamored of Kennedy in the late 1950s and early 1960s knew him personally (I once got a letter from him, no doubt signed by an office machine, and actually spied him at a  Harvard football game a month before he was assassinated); but we felt a strong attraction to him, his photogenic family, and his “New Frontier”.  

Returning to the rings of responsibility, JFK seems to have been quite unusual. I find little evidence in the biography for a concern with the feelings and reactions of peers that transcends the transactional: JFK was charming but when individuals—male or female—were no longer of use to him, he had few qualms about removing himself from their circle. (I should acknowledge his heroic efforts to save members of his naval crew when their boat PT109 was sunk). By the same token, while he paid lip service to the issues that arose in Boston or in the New England region, these clearly did not compel his attention. And when there were national issues on which he might have spoken up—specifically civil rights and McCarthy—he found it convenient to mute his tongue and pocket his pen. 

Perhaps we can say that Kennedy was destined to occupy the widest circles of responsibility—dealing with issues of war and peace across the international landscape—but that does not indicate whether he would handle them effectively. For one person’s considered view, we must await the second volume of Logevall’s biography.

The case of JFK raises intriguing further issues. How usual or unusual is it for individuals who seek and attain the highest rings of power to move easily to that region or even to skip the intermediate rings altogether? Comparisons  could be instructive: with others who attain national and international leadership roles at an early age—Churchill, deGaulle come to mind; as well as with others, like Richard Nixon,  Ronald Reagan, or Bill Clinton—who were able to transcend a childhood with few of the supports that the Kennedy children took for granted.

© Howard Gardner 2020