Advent: There Are Alternatives

Second in a series on the seasons

"There is no alternative" to globalization. It is inevitable. You may not like it, but there is nothing you can do about it. If you oppose globalization, you are opposed to human progress. All of these are common beliefs among those who track globalization. (See Thomas Friedman's books on globalization.) Bob Goudzwaard once lumped these beliefs together under the TINA (There Is No Alternative) label.

But one of the main lessons of Advent is that God breaks into human history to redeem His people in unexpected ways. We are not abandoned or alone. So we hope. We wait for the Lord. We know that someday the Kingdom will be fully and finally established on earth. Now, there is an alternative.

When I first started writing on globalization, I hadn't yet internalized this lesson of Advent. Nor had I read enough about hopeful practices that demonstrate practical alternatives to globalization. Instead, I tended to share the assumption that globalization was a juggernaut that operated whether or not we liked it.

Now, by Advent 2010, a number of authors have demonstrated the power of alternative practices in their own personal, individual journeys. They show us that even the individual alone can do things (not to mention whole communities).

There are authors who track down the laborers who toil to stitch our clothes:

• Kelsey Timmerman, Where Am I Wearing? A Global Tour to the Countries, Factories, and People That Make Our Clothes (2009)
• Joe Bennett, Where Underpants Come From: From Cotton Fields to Checkout Counters --Travels Through the New China and Into the New Global Economy (2009) 
• Pietra Rivoli, Travels of a T-Shirt in the Global Economy (2005)

There are authors who eat locally for a year:

• Alisa Smith and J.B. Mackinnon, Plenty: Eating Locally on the 100-Mile Diet (2008)
• Barbara Kingsolver, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle (2008)
• Bill McKibben, Deep Economy (2008)

There are authors who live with less technology or with minimal environmental impact:

• Eric Brende, Better Off: Flipping the Switch on Technology (2004)
• Colin Beavan, No Impact Man (2009)
• Doug Fine, Farewell, My Subaru (2008)

There are authors who learn to minimize their consumption (in general or of "Made in China") for a year:

•  Judith Levine, Not Buying It: My Year Without Shopping (2007)
• Sara Bongiorni, A Year Without "Made in China" (2007)

There are authors who investigate child labor and slave labor practices that go into making our stuff:

• Craig Kielburger, Free the Children (1998)
• John Bowe, Nobodies: American Slave Labor and the Dark Side of the Global Economy (2008)

There are authors who practice nonviolent ways of reconciling differences in Iraq or Afghanitsan

• Peggy Gish, Iraq: A Journey of Hope and Peace (2004)
• Greg Mortenson, Stones into Schools (2009)

I could go on, but hopefully the point is clear.

There Are Alternatives.

An Advent Parable

Advent is just about over, but there is still time to start the practice of blogging on each liturgical season, during that season. So here goes the first installment of an occasional series. . .

Last Sunday evening, on the Third Sunday of Advent, a student of mine was driving with friends to St. Paul's Episcopal Church in downtown Canton for a special service of Advent meditations, music, and visual art. As the sun was setting, the weather was turning cold and nasty, with bitter Arctic winds and snow swirling around. As the guys drove down Market Avenue, a major four-lane thoroughfare, they saw an older woman walking against the flow of traffic, scuffling along the gutter of the street with her walker, nearly sliding into the path of oncoming cars. She wasn't wearing a coat or decent shoes. She was clearly disoriented. 

So, God bless them, they stopped their car and returned her to the nursing home from which she had wandered. As a result, they arrived at the Advent service quite late, unable to enjoy it fully.

One of the young men was deeply upset, overcome with the injustice of a system that discards the elderly and cares little for them. This particular woman was obviously overlooked at this particular nursing home, which is not exactly posh -- a forgotten woman in a forgotten place. As the student sat in the Advent service, he was crying in frustration. He confessed that he wasn't able to focus on the service because he was so overcome with the injustice of it all.

But he had had just lived through an Advent parable. 

After all, this is the season in which we cry "come, Lord Jesus, come." The tears of that young man were properly Advent tears--the tears of a season in which we lament the injustice and oppression of this world while yearning for justice and liberation.

On this Third Sunday of Advent, Isaiah's prophetic vision was read out loud in many churches around the world:

Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert (Isaiah 35:5-6). 

Advent is the time when we recall that we are longing, like Isaiah and Mary, for God to redeem his people, to put things right, to rescue us, to heal us, to bring us back to Zion, to bring justice, and to liberate us all from the yoke of spiritual, physical, social, political, or economic oppression. We say "come, Lord Jesus, come," because we hope he will return to make things right.

But in the meantime, we live in a fallen world that often lacks this healing. In between Christ's first and second Advents, between the "already" of the Kingdom and the "not yet," we wait. 

Wait for the Lord, whose day is near

Wait for the Lord 

Be strong, take heart.

These words from one of my favorite Taize songs remind us to wait patiently for the Lord, even while we, like my student, impatiently long for God to reign on earth as He already does in Heaven. 

Marantha. Come, Lord.

FIFA Member Admits World Cup Decision Was Political

Jerome Valcke, the General-Secretary of FIFA, told reporters on Monday that the decision to choose Russia for the 2018 World Cup and Qatar for the 2022 World Cup was indeed political, as I argued in my previous post. 

While he denied rumors that Qatar's bid committee paid $1.5 million to two members of FIFA's executive committee or was ready to pay almost $80 million to Argentina's national soccer organization, he did say frankly that the decision was "political." 

As he was quoted to have put it, 

Russia deserves it, and Qatar will be an interesting story. We have eight years until Russia hosts it, with a huge commitment on the part of Putin. And 12 years for Qatar, which has huge resources.

So, it really was a combination of self-interested politics and "an interesting story." The Middle Eastern angle plus "huge resources" won out over a more environmentally friendly bid from the U.S.--a bid which would have also built on the increasing interest in soccer among Americans who celebrated Landon Donovan's last-minute-of-extra-time, "shot heard around the world" goal to beat Algeria  and win Group C this summer.

How many Americans will make the trip to tiny, hot Qatar? I hope to be among them, but I suspect there won't be many of us. It's disappointing for Americans who love soccer that FIFA wasn't interested in building a fan base here. That, along with a lower environmental impact, would have also made a great story--and would have saved everyone a lot of money.

But that's politics. It constantly surprises us.

Why FIFA chose Russia and Qatar for the World Cup

Yesterday, the governing body of international soccer, FIFA, announced which countries won the right to stage the World Cup in 2018 and 2022. (Brazil will host in 2014.)

Many observers were shocked that they chose Russia for 2018 and Qatar for 2022. It was the Qatar decision that was the real shocker for me. After all, the U.S. was contending for 2022, and we had Henry Kissinger, Morgan Freeman, and Bill Clinton negotiating for us (and Barack Obama sending a final video testimonial). Like many Americans, I was hoping to be able to watch a game in person in my home country, but I'm slowly overcoming my shock and disappointment enough to be able to analyze the decision.

As a political scientist, I've been trained to analyze political choices, and, trust me, FIFA is a highly politicized body. A general rule of thumb or theory coming from my field is that decisions combining material self-interest and cultural identities tend to win out. 

Material self-interest? Well, Russia and Qatar have lots of oil and natural gas money to pay for construction of new stadiums, and to wine and dine the members of the FIFA board, who make the decision. A whole academic sub-field could be devoted to corruption (or at least influence-peddling, vote-trading, logrolling, etc.) in international sports decision-making.

But the cultural identity part makes for a good story (and definitely plays into decisions, when combined with self-interest). This will be the first time they'll ever play the World Cup in Russia, and, more symbolically, the first time they'll ever play it in the Middle East. The folks at FIFA really believe that they contribute to harmony, peace, and understanding. What better way to send that message than to choose post-Communist Russia and a tiny Gulf emirate that's on the move. Integrating Russia and the Middle East into the world community? A nice image.

I love the Middle East, and I'm already thinking of booking my flights to Qatar for 2022. But as a soccer purist, I'm appalled to learn that they'll be playing in air-conditioned, open-air stadiums. The Persian/Arabian Gulf in June and July will be running daytime temperatures around 120 degrees Fahrenheit, so there's no other way to make the bid plausible. Qatar will now have to build 9 new stadiums that they are promising to dismantle and share with developing countries after the tournament is over. But Qatar insists that their approach is carbon-neutral, and won't contribute to greenhouse gas emissions. (Really?!) To keep green grass alive in that climate will require massive inputs of energy, in a tiny country the size of Connecticut with less than 400,000 actual citizens (as opposed to the 2 million expatriate workers).

This was a fascinating decision by FIFA, and all too political.

In Defense of Actual Reality (as opposed to financial numbers)

Today, a chunk of General Motors shares are going on sale at $33 a piece, which should allow GM to pay back billions of dollars to the Federal Government and cut the government's ownership share to 26 from a previous 61 percent. Good economic news for once.

Which may be why yesterday Warren Buffet issued a thank you note to Uncle Sam, giving credit to the Feds for helping rescue the U.S. (and world) economy from possible collapse. We usually complain about government, but Buffet points out that both the Bush and Obama administrations have done a lot to keep banks and businesses alive. Meanwhile, the citizenry thanked the incumbent regime by electing the Tea Party.

But the supposed good news about GM also prompted author Paul Clemens, a Detroit resident and former autoworker, to reflect on the difference between actual reality and the numbers games of financiers, in a piece on today's New York Times Op-Ed page. As part of the bankruptcy restructuring, a part of GM was shunted off into an "old GM," which is designed to sell off old assets, i.e., the many plants that are being shuttered forever--or being dismantled.

Like Michael Moore, who will forever be saddened about GM's abandoning Flint, Clemens is troubled by the abandonment of Detroit. (Full disclosure: Like Clemens, I was born in the Detroit area and grew up in Michigan during the 1970s and 80s, so I feel deeply for communities devastated by the loss of car manufacturing plants.)

I encourage you to read the whole piece, but the concluding paragraphs capture Clemens' main theme in a powerful way (I'll underline the best part):

ACROSS the nation, as in Detroit, there is an economic disconnect, a split between what the economic numbers say and how things feel on the ground. The economy is growing, but the unemployment rate hasn’t budged. The recession officially ended in June 2009, but more jobs have been lost than have been added since that “ending.”

Handling this disconnect requires political acuity. It brings to mind something Philip Roth once said about those who have little feel for literature and the texture of lived experience it provides and so “theorize” it. Mr. Roth imagined a scene of a father giving his son this advice while attending a baseball game: “Now, what I want you to do is watch the scoreboard. Stop watching the field. Just watch what happens when the numbers change on the scoreboard. Isn’t that great?” Then Mr. Roth asks: “Is that politicizing the baseball game? Is that theorizing the baseball game? No, it’s having not the foggiest idea in the world what baseball is.”

It’ll be fun, for a day or two, to look at the scoreboard, and to see what G.M.’s shares are going for: $26? $29? $33? $35? The numbers on the exchange will change; it’ll be great, and a welcome, temporary relief from the numbers, still difficult to comprehend, of jobs lost and plants closed. Soon enough, though, we’ll have to go back to watching what’s actually happening on the field, where there’s still a blowout in progress, with the home team way behind, and no one, seemingly, with the foggiest idea what to do about it.

Like Clemens, I want to defend those of us who live on the ground, in actual material reality, next door to car plants, on the field, playing the game--as opposed to the financiers who think that their numbers games are more real. (Chapter 3 of the book attempts to make this case.) A purely quantitative analysis of society is like "having the not the foggiest idea in the world" what social life is.

The Pontiac dealership just down the road from me is now closed (due to GM's restructuring plan). Should I celebrate today?

The Mortgage Mess: Worse Than We Thought

It turns out that using mortgages as collateral to back bonds sold globally was a bad idea. Financiers sold mortgage-backed securities as lucrative, risk-free investment vehicles. It was supposed to be a win-win for everyone.

But now it appears that these wonderful new financial products could undermine a large chunk of the U.S. housing market. A new report issued today by the Congressional Oversight Panel that oversees the Troubled Asset Relief Program (TARP bailout) suggests that the electronic mortgage-processing systems at the heart of this mess may call into question 33 million mortgage loans. Oops, sorry about that.

In an earlier post, I summarized an article by Professor Christopher Peterson of the University of Utah Law School. His analysis now sounds cautious. The new Congressional Oversight Panel report suggests that our entire financial system might be undermined: 

Clear and uncontested property rights are the foundation of the housing market. If these rights fall into question, that foundation could collapse. Borrowers may be unable to determine whether they are sending their monthly payments to the right people. Judges may block any effort to foreclose, even in cases where borrowers have failed to make regular payments. Multiple banks may attempt to foreclose upon the same property. Borrowers who have already suffered foreclosure may seek to regain title to their homes and force any new owners to move out. Would-be buyers and sellers could find themselves in limbo, unable to know with any certainty whether they can safely buy or sell a home. If such problems were to arise on a large scale, the housing market could experience even greater disruptions than have already occurred, resulting in significant harm to major financial institutions (COP "November Oversight Report," p. 5).

Oops, sorry about that. It really does come down to who owns the promissory note in your mortgage. Unfortunately, for 33 million people the answer to that question is not clear.

Did American TV Bring Down Communism?

"J.R. Ewing Shot Down Communism in Estonia." This is the arresting headline of a film review by Stephen Holden in this morning's New York Times, of an Estonian documentary entitled Disco and Atomic War.

As this cute five-minute trailer for the film shows, Estonia is about 70 miles south of Finland--close enough to pick up broadcast TV signals of Finnish television. Like many Americans in the early 1980s, Finns in Helsinki were captivated by the TV show Dallas and the exploits of its main character, J.R. Ewing (right). So, too, were the Estonians who could pick up the signal from Finland on their rooftop antennas. 

Estonia was then under Soviet control, and Communist authorities wasted no time in trying to crack down on this infestation of Western propaganda. Obviously, they failed. Images of decadence and material abundance--the giant mansions of rich oil tycoons, their fancy cars, their well-coiffed wives, the warmth of sunny Texas--enticed the Estonians in their bleak Communist world.

I noted in a previous post about basketball in Turkey that we should recognize the power of compelling images to capture the imaginations and desires of viewers. For example, while Dallas never quite captured my imagination, I will confess that Knight Rider, another show of the era, did . . . for a few weeks, anyway.

I worry, as a former TV junkie, that advertising, television, and movies are a powerful force of cultural globalization--at times, more powerful than the church (see chapter 10 of the book). 

But I also think that the challenge for the church is not to make the message of the full gospel (in all of its complexity) more compelling than the attractions of a souped-up, black TransAm (at least to a middle-school boy in the early 1980s). That would be allowing popular culture to dictate the terms of success. It would be a bit like trying to create worship services that compete with rock concerts to grab the attention of bored youth. (Oh, wait, lots of churches are doing that!)

Rather, the challenge is to keep presenting the message with integrity, in the confidence that the Holy Spirit takes our frail efforts to communicate and makes them truly universal. Of course, we should try to speak to the felt needs within all segments of our culture, but let's not worry too much about current fads in entertainment. 

After all, I cringe when I see old Knight Rider videos today. And all of us who ever watched Dallas cringe when someone alludes to the "who shot J.R." season-ending cliffhanger. Pop culture gets stale and cheesy very quickly. 

We should always communicate in ways that capture the imagination and orient it toward the Kingdom, trusting that this Kingdom will endure, while cheesy 1980s TV shows will fade away.