Ask What You Can Do

“Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country.”

This quote from John F. Kennedy, Jr’s Inaugural Address in 1961 seems rather quaint these days. Kennedy is remembered with a level of admiration I don’t entirely share. He was a charismatic cad and his foreign policy missteps and escalation of the war in Vietnam are serious blemishes.

The quote is credited as inspirational to many young folks at the time, although “doing for the country” meant Peace Corps to some and Marines to others. That legacy is mixed at best.

The sentiment would have more validity if slightly tweaked: “Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for everyone else.” This notion is completely absent from contemporary political discourse on both sides. From the time of St. Ronnie, mistrust of government has been the theme, whether expressed by Grover Norquist’s suggestion that we shrink it and drown it in the bathtub or the relentless campaign to inaccurately deride government efficiency in the service of privatization.

The corporate, greed-driven privatization con job has been paired with the equally harmful encouragement of charity instead of justice. Charity only partially fills the gaping wounds left by systemic injustice, but hey! – it salves the conscience of the givers despite failing to solve the problems.

How many heartstring-tugging ads must one watch before wondering why feeding children requires the goodwill of “viewers like you?” “Your donation can . . .” is to social justice what “thoughts and prayers” are to unmitigated gun violence. The American tolerance for injustice is sturdy, thanks to these pillars of self-deception. I am a “good person” because I pray, buy Girl Scout cookies and give $5 a month to Save the Children..

The damage of self-interest over selflessness is fueled by the mandatory political litmus test: “Ask yourself if you are better off today than you were four years ago.” Both sides employ the test and then offer up highly selective or distorted statistics to convince you that their party, their candidate, is making your life better. Gas prices, egg prices . . . whatever metric can persuade you.

The ubiquitous rhetoric of self-interest and the twin myths of “evil government” and “charitable divinity” come to the fore this month at tax time. We all hate taxes, don’t we! “It’s MY money,” say the strident voices on my community Facebook page. We are even manipulated into skepticism about school funding. Teachers make too much and don’t even work a full year! Vouchers, charters and school choice have insidiously undermined the commitment to traditional public schools, exacerbating the disinclination to support them.

Our system of taxation is regressive, but since we all hate taxes, there’s little appetite to change it. How many among Trump’s dim minions cheer at his avoidance of taxes and think his multiple bankruptcies are indicative of his great wisdom?

The only objects of nearly fawning public support are first responders. (I qualify the following critique by acknowledging that my own life was arguably saved by such folks, and that these are necessary and, by and large, noble professions.)

Much of the public adoration is almost fetishistic, accompanied by unexamined pride in the military and the militaristic. “Thank you for your service” is available even to the most aggressive violators of norms of decency. The enthusiasm of support is quite often correlated with the extent to which the service offered is to repress and control “the others” on the margins of society. Or “others” beyond our borders. The defense budget is a toxic third rail, and touching it is certain political death.

At tax time it is useful, but insufficient, to remind tax haters of those who fix the roads, maintain the parks, put out the wildfires, manage public health, maintain water systems, provide public transportation and more. Unfortunately, even these obvious and essential things are under regular assault by the a la carte approach. We politically support those things – and only those things – that benefit us directly. “I don’t have kids!” “I don’t use the parks!” “I don’t ride the bus!” “Why should I pay for them?”

This country has abundant resources if we would choose to distribute them with an eye toward social decency. We could feed, shelter, educate, offer healthcare to, and provide a life of dignity to every human within our borders. We could, but we don’t want to.

Our national motto should not be “E Pluribus Unum” (out of many, one). It should be, “You deserve what you get and you get what you deserve.”