By
Jill Beck
President, Lawrence University
During the past year, I have spoken of three aspects of a Lawrence education
that, I believe, are truly distinctive. In my first
President’s Message, I spoke of the unusual frequency of individualized
instruction and one-on-one learning at Lawrence. Individualized instruction,
through tutorials, independent study,
and faculty-student research and artistic collaboration, is pervasive at
Lawrence and can be said to be a defining characteristic of the education we
provide.
Last May, in my Inaugural
Address, I spoke
about a second distinguishing characteristic of Lawrence — the unusual
qualities that arise from having a nationally recognized conservatory of
music housed
within a college of the liberal arts and sciences. I shared my belief that
Lawrence is uniquely positioned to support courses, programs, and creative
or research projects that promote what I referred to as a holistic, humanistic
construct of liberal education, in which each student is potentially a
Renaissance man or Renaissance woman.
In this essay, I would like to address a third distinguishing attribute
of Lawrence, and that is community engagement — learning experiences
that extend beyond the classroom.
Humanistic qualities
Research has clearly shown the value of what has been called the “hidden
curriculum” of
community involvement and the interrelationship between academic learning
and the learning that takes place in real world situations.
There is, however, another aspect of community engagement that is of equal
merit – and that is its role in the development of character and
the refinement of personal values.
Nathan Pusey, president of Lawrence from 1944 to 1953 before leaving
to become president of Harvard, spoke and wrote eloquently on the educational
importance
of character development. In his book The Age of the Scholar, Pusey wrote
that humanistic qualities “must be self-developed if they are to be had; or
perhaps we should say, rather, such qualities can and may grow in a person
in a favorable environment if the heart is set upon them.” Liberal
arts colleges have a responsibility, according to Pusey, to provide students
with
such favorable environments for self-development, to augment intellectual
growth.
It is worth noting that such opportunities are, in fact, abundant at Lawrence.
This past summer, for example, Lawrentians were actively involved in community
projects in various locations throughout the world.
Freya
D’Almeida, ’08 (pictured left), spent her summer working with
the Center for Communication and Training in Sri Lanka, interviewing and
assisting
children of the tsunami-affected regions of the country.
Kenneth Alvord, ’07 (pictured below right),
participated in Hearts for Haiti, organizing activities for and tutoring
local children, helping to construct a medical facility in the area,
and conducting interviews on political questions.
In reflecting on these types of experiences, it is important to recall
Pusey’s
words: humanistic values are not imparted as are other kinds of knowledge,
through instruction and reading. They are subject to “self-development” by
each of us, supported through environments for learning that require
us, in Pusey’s
words, to “both care and do.”
In a 1981 Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching essay titled
Higher Learning in the Nation’s Service, Ernest Boyer
and Fred Hechinger argued that liberal arts colleges must “create
a climate in which the values of the individual and the ethical and moral
choices confronting society can be thoughtfully examined,” in practice
that can in turn inform the classroom.
The word “examined” in the Boyer/Hechinger position is critical
regarding the place of engaged learning within the liberal arts curriculum.
Beyond volunteering in order to do good, liberal learning, as Nathan Pusey
explained, should promote “self-development.” It
is reflection upon the experience — the meta-analysis of what it
means to be both teacher and learner in Haiti, of what personal beliefs
need to
be amended to work effectively with people of different backgrounds,
of the
obligations of world citizenship to wildlife in South Africa or children
in Sri Lanka — it is the cognitive and emotional reflection by
students on their experiences that greatly enhances their learning.
An imbedded goal of liberal arts education is that we graduate young people
who can in Pusey’s words “think for themselves, exercise judgment
and act upon that judgment, and deeply care.” If our students fail
to develop independence of thought, to have a range of experiences that
enables them to reach informed judgments, to build incrementally the
confidence to
act upon their reasoned beliefs, and to feel deeply about that which
they value,
they may graduate full of factual information but perhaps not as individuals
capable of lives of full humanity.
If we accept Pusey’s as well as Boyer’s and Hechinger’s
claims that self-development and the cultivation of values are a proper
role for liberal
education, how then do we best proceed? Moreover, what are the values
on which we at Lawrence can universally agree?
Should we teach values?
Recently, in response to national concerns, the Annapolis
Group, an association
of the nation’s leading liberal arts colleges, posed this question to
its member presidents: “Should secular liberal arts institutions teach
values?” Values, after all, were historically a core objective
of liberal arts institutions, since most were founded on the basis of
moral
education
and to prepare theologians. But what about today?
Several of the replies suggested what I have long suspected, that many
liberal arts colleges today routinely support moral understanding only
in that they
provide “great books” and other forms of text in which morally
relevant actions are available for interpretation and criticism. While
these discipline-based inquiries are critically important and of undoubted
validity,
I question whether liberal arts colleges can teach moral values through
literature and discussion alone.
My own reply to the Annapolis Group was that “Liberal education
has long embraced the notion that the cultivation of judgment and values
should
proceed
hand-in-hand with the acquisition of knowledge. To strengthen the ability
of its students to make informed ethical choices and develop empathy,
learning opportunities outside the classroom that promote altruism and
civic engagement
as moral values and practice should be actively encouraged. Programs
that engage
students in partnerships with the community facilitate the refinement
of knowledge obtained through formal education and enable students to
challenge
themselves
as they develop a moral framework for their lives.”
My response set the goal of supporting the development of students’ altruism
but directed the challenge to students themselves to participate in their own
learning and development of values. The college’s responsibility
is to provide community-based opportunities and formal coursework as
contexts for
enhancing moral cultivation, such as when Patrick
Boleyn-Fitzgerald, associate professor of philosophy at Lawrence, integrates community-based
activities
into his course on business ethics and social responsibility.
A primary purpose of the liberal arts college is not only to help students
understand what is virtuous but to enable the practice of virtue — that
is, to be good and, in being good, to reflect on changes to self and
others in order to consolidate lessons learned and achieve gains in moral
character.
Altruism is a value that is morally relevant and accepted by all major
world religions and secular moral theories alike. I suggest that altruism
is a
value that we at Lawrence should examine to determine if it should apply
more consciously
to our institutional identity.
What, then, is altruism?
Selfless — or self-interested
Formally conceptualized first by the philosopher Auguste Comte, altruism referred
to individual self-sacrifice on behalf of others. Integrating a principle found
in all prominent religions, the idea of altruism has expanded to mean acts
that entail loving others as oneself.
Biomedical ethicist S. G. Post points out that agape, a Greek word meaning
an overwhelming sense of other-regarding love, is central to the meaning
of altruism. Post also states that, among other emotions: “Altruistic love
is closely linked to care, which is love in response to the other in need .
. . [and] compassion, which is love in response to the other in suffering.” Altruism
is, therefore, a complex mixture of helping action and love on behalf
of others in need.
Strict altruism theory urges that altruistic action should involve self-sacrifice
to the provider. However, philosopher Thomas Nagel disagreed: “By
altruism, I mean not abject self-sacrifice but merely a willingness to
act in consideration
of the interests of other persons, without the need of ulterior motives.”
Other views contribute additional criteria. Psychologist Jerome Kagan
argues that critical to altruism is the “helping agent’s
awareness of the need of another and the intention to be of assistance.” He
believes that the motive for altruism is a personal ethical standard
and/or love and
that the altruistic act is accompanied by a feeling of enhanced virtue
through vicarious identification with the recipient’s increased
happiness. Kagan, therefore, supports the idea that the altruist may
indeed benefit
from his
altruism. Post concurs that the altruist may undergo moral improvement
and, therefore, such action is in his or her self-interest.
Altruism is usually contrasted with egoism — that is, behaviors that
are always carried out in self-interest. “Egoism holds
that each individual’s reasons for acting and possible motivations
for acting must arise from his own interests and desires, however those
interests may be defined.”
That all behavior is self-interested is grounded in English political
philosophy (notably Hobbes, The Leviathan), economic theories
of competitiveness (Smith’s
Wealth of Nations), and evolutionary theories (as in Dawkins’ The
Selfish Gene). The pure moral egoist claims that “we always
prefer ourselves and our own” and we should admit the “significant
limits to human compassion and reject the ridiculously idealistic standards
that can never be met by the advocates of altruism, let alone by most
members
of the
human race.”
Whether moral egoism or moral altruism is the view that should prevail is a
matter of philosophical debate. However, the supposition that, in altruistic
behavior, some degree of self-satisfaction and, hence, self-interest may obtain,
at least after the fact, seems unassailable. Therefore, the focus for us today
in an educational context is to determine how some self-interest may combine
with the development of personal altruism.
Nurturing the inner altruist
Let us consider Heroic vs. Ordinary Altruism. Altruism may typically refer
to heroic action intended to save another as a fundamental motive — that
is, to prevent harm in extreme circumstances. In political scientist
Kristen Monroe’s study of altruists, she selected individuals who
had performed feats of heroism such as rescuing Jews from the Nazis.
While such acts
are indisputably altruistic, it is unclear how liberal arts colleges
or any educational
institution could prepare students to become heroes. Rather, a reasonable
goal is to support extended and persistent altruistic behavior.
How can a liberal arts college help students become altruistic? First of
all, to perform altruistic acts requires opportunities for our students’ potential
inner altruist to emerge in actions primarily motivated by the intention
of helping others. The typical method of educational institutions, of course,
is to program some activity,
such as a course, lecture, or fieldwork that is intended to provide such
opportunities. Again, the contrast to heroic altruism is clear: it would
be impossible for
colleges to organize opportunities for acts in which people were rescued
from perilous situations.
Let us, therefore, restrict ourselves to the prototypical case of altruism
in which the would-be altruist’s intention is to help an individual
or small group develop. I would suggest that helping others who are disadvantaged
educationally presents a useful environment to support altruistic growth.
The most common example of educational helping is volunteering one’s
time to tutor children in local schools. The tutoring relationship can
be a model social situation and primary opportunity for studying and
developing altruism.
The objection may be raised that tutoring demeans the concept of altruism
by being too narrowly defined and involving less profound motives and
emotions, but consider that educational volunteering meets several criteria
of altruism:
(1) the tutor gives to and otherwise helps a child or young person, a
natural human object of love or generosity; (2) it may frequently be the
case that
the recipient is disadvantaged and “suffering” in terms of
educational opportunity, certainly in comparison with the donor, and
volunteering, therefore,
represents a charitable activity; (3) in helping the child, the tutor
gives of her or his time and therefore undergoes a degree of self-sacrifice;
(4) while tutoring, the tutor may help her/himself to grow as an adult
or prospective
teacher, and this self-benefit may lead to increased self-confidence
which,
in turn, may lead to greater rewards for future recipients.
What is apparent is that volunteering in schools differs from heroic
altruism in several ways, but there are advantages both for undergraduates’ personal
altruistic development and for research on the value of altruistic experiences
in liberal arts education.
First, educational altruism is provided over a period of time, and therefore
provides a longitudinal context in which altruistic development may occur and
be researched. Second, the educational altruistic action may deliberately be
provided to a socially disadvantaged person or group, whereas an act of heroism,
such as saving someone in the path of a speeding car, is a random event. Third,
intended outcomes of educational altruism may be established, while heroic
altruism, by definition, is not subject to such planned outcomes. Lastly, however,
heroic and educational altruism are similar in that the donor does not begin
from an expectation of benefiting from the activity or, at least, does not
think of him or herself as the primary beneficiary, and, therefore, neither
is generated as a self-interested activity.
If Lawrence, as an exemplary liberal arts college, decided to develop
more specificity about the meaning of its stated mission to
prepare “students
for lives of service, achievement, leadership, and personal fulfillment,” we
might wish to articulate which values are entailed in attaining these
goals. I have spoken at some length about altruism but would like to
mention another value, and that is, empathy.
Loving and caring
Most experimental research in altruism has examined levels of empathy as
one of the outcomes. “Simply defined, empathy is the ability to
identify with and understand the situations, motives, and feelings of
another.” Although empathy is defined
as an ability to take the perspective of others, it is also a feeling
for others as individuals in a particular situation of need. “Recognition
of the other person’s reality, and the possibility of putting yourself
in his place is essential,” wrote Nagel. For Nagel, altruism results
from a rational judgment that you would not like being in the state of
the other and if circumstances were reversed, would want others to help
you.
It has been theorized that altruism must involve empathic feelings of
love for others. This is usually cited as the Golden Rule or some variation
thereof: “so
whatever you wish that men would do to you, do so to them” or, “you
shall love your neighbor as yourself.”
By connecting altruism to agape, love for others, even enemies, and caritas, caring for others, theorists describe altruism as emanating from feeling. Therefore,
a liberal arts education that would develop altruism through immersion in situations
that elicit responses of agape and caritas could not neglect developing empathic
emotions.
This brings to mind the emotional intelligence that former Lawrence president
Henry Wriston defined as a necessary complement to intellectual development.
Wriston wrote that students’ “emotional responses may be sensitized
and made more deep and true.” It was surprising to him to find “the
emotional life treated with neglect and suspicion; yet of that skepticism and
disregard there seems to be no doubt whatever,” he wrote.
There are many questions before us. Should Lawrence specifically embrace
altruism and empathy as two means to achieve its stated mission to prepare
students
for lives including leadership and personal fulfillment? Do we unequivocally
believe in these values as a scholarly and artistic community? Are there
other values in which we believe? In our classrooms, should we concentrate
on theoretical
understanding and the intellectual development of our students above
all, leaving action for a more appropriate, later time in our graduates’ lives?
Or are the words of Nathan Pusey still relevant, that “we are not presented
with a choice between alternatives but are confronted with an urgent
necessity in our educational practices to find ways to modulate and fuse
things that
have been too often held apart”?
What should Lawrence do?
There clearly is no doubt that fostering altruism and empathy as a part
of students’ self-development is already widely present here at
Lawrence. It also is readily apparent that many Lawrentians have embraced
and exemplified these values, both during and after their time
at Lawrence.
One reflection of this is the fact that over the past 40 years, nearly 200
graduates of the college have postponed their individual career or study plans
to serve as Peace Corps volunteers. There are seven Lawrentians currently serving
in the Peace Corps, and four more are now moving through the application process.
As the Peace Corps itself notes, this level of participation is extraordinary
for an institution of our size. One reason, I suspect, is because Lawrence
focuses to a rare extent on the individual. The college does not seek
to graduate a class of students each year, but rather a collection of
individuals
prepared
to find their own way to a self-fulfilling life. The education we provide
at Lawrence does prepare our graduates to take their place as what Pusey
called “concerned
citizens of a complicated human world.”
Yet, I submit, as educators, it behooves us to become even more conscious
in our intent, and purposeful in our efforts. I have asked Professor
of Psychology Gerald Metalsky to work with Provost and Dean of the Faculty
David Burrows and chair a small faculty task force to inventory the present state of
community engagement at Lawrence. Where are such activities going on,
with
what results
to the community and to liberal learning? What views do professors hold
about the future of community engagement at Lawrence? For example, would
Lawrence
benefit from a Center for Community Engagement? Could such a Center support
faculty connections between their classrooms and external groups, for
those who are interested in this approach? Could it help to strengthen
the academic
and reflective aspects of student work outside the college’s classrooms?
Could we create an additional place where our students could focus on
self-development, particularly their belief systems and the values by
which they conduct
their lives?
Nathan Pusey wondered: “What can one life be — what can it mean
among so many?” There should be ample time, places, and contexts
for our students to consider this very question.
Pusey’s answer to what one life can be was that “No one can
say, but each of us has a life to live, and we shall want to spend it
as well
as may be . . . as alert, fair, concerned citizens of a complicated human
world.”
Pusey’s metaphysical question and our individual answers to it
should not remain merely implicit in the pursuit of knowledge at Lawrence.
We
should actively consider values such as altruism and empathy, to prepare
us for
appropriate action when we have the chance to affect some portion of
our day, our community,
or our world.
Lawrence Today, Winter 2005
As adapted from the president's Matriculation Convocation address of September 22, 2005