A piece appeared last Saturday in the New York Times Sunday Review titled Our Culture of Contempt. I thought about it during the past week as I saw it shared and discussed on social media and as I reflected on the current political climate and the fallout from the 2019 called General Conference of the United Methodist Church.
Contempt
Arthur C. Brooks wrote the essay and in it he made the case that the problem in America today is not incivility or intolerance, but contempt. I agree. While I’m not a social scientist like Brooks, my own observations in the small corner of our country that I occupy has offered plenty of evidence to support his conclusion.
I’m not sure one of my close friends actually used the word “contempt” in describing his feelings for people who support the forty-fifth President, but there was no mistaking the sentiment. Because he is an essentially good and charitable person, he not only recognized but was concerned about this.
Sad to say, but I have many other friends who have allowed themselves to drift toward feelings of contempt without being aware, much less concerned.
Where I’ve seen this manifest itself is in viewpoints that are not simply intolerant, but that brook no alternative that a reasonable person could harbor. When pushed to the extremes that the echo chambers of social media foster, this results in contempt for those with whom we disagree that borders on a denial of the other person’s essential worth.
To put it in more simple terms, it results in hate.
I agree with the solution to the problem that Brooks advocates:
What we need is not to disagree less, but to disagree better. And that starts when you turn away the rhetorical dope peddlers — the powerful people on your own side who are profiting from the culture of contempt. As satisfying as it can feel to hear that your foes are irredeemable, stupid and deviant, remember: When you find yourself hating something, someone is making money or winning elections or getting more famous and powerful. Unless a leader is actually teaching you something you didn’t know or expanding your worldview and moral outlook, you are being used.
Emphasis added
He goes on to urge that we stop treating others with contempt — “even if we believe they deserve it” — that we make amends for harsh and unkind words that we may have used concerning others, and that we respond to contempt aimed at us with “warmheartedness and good humor”.
I would add a couple of thoughts to his recommendations, although they’re implicit in what he wrote.
Respect
One antonym for “contempt” is respect.
This morning, I tore off yesterday’s page from my Living Language Day-to-Day calendar and read the German phrase for this weekend — “Alle Menschen verdienen Respekt” — “All humans deserve respect.” I hadn’t intended to have a German language calendar, I had planned to buy the 2019 Book Lovers daily calendar from Workman’s Page-A-Day series, but the company didn’t do a book lovers calendar for 2019, so I had to opt for something else.
Reading this page — this simple phrase — is what ultimately prompted me to write this post.
“All humans deserve respect” — even those with whom we disagree.
To draw back from viewing someone with contempt, we should consider them as persons worthy of our respect. They are not stupid. They are not evil. They are not beyond redemption.
Humility
They may even be right
That’s the other thought that I would contribute to Mr. Brooks’ recommendations: that we consider the possibility that we don’t know it all.
This doesn’t require that we actually concede the argument, but that we simply draw back from advocacy for a moment and acknowledge that we are all children created in the image of God. Put another way —
We are all children
We are not God
A young pastor and friend did just this in the wake of the called General Conference of the United Methodist Church. He didn’t offer a viewpoint. He didn’t advocate a solution. He didn’t cast aspersions. He simply offered a prayer of confession.
Mulling over Mr. Brooks’ opinion piece, I thought of the hymn written by Isaac Watts —
When I survey the wondrous crossOn which the Prince of Glory died,My richest gain I count but loss,And pour contempt on all my pride.
In this Lenten season maybe that’s the proper place for our contempt.