 I am delighted to announce the release a new report I co-authored for United Way Worldwide with my friend and colleague Mike Wood at UWW.
From my announcement at the Mannakee Circle Group site:
Last week at a national conference held in Nashville, TN, United Way Worldwide released its latest report, Voices for the Common Good: The World Speaks Out on Opportunity.
This report is based on more than 120 community conversations in a dozen countries. In these conversations, people from all walks of life talked about their aspirations for and challenges facing their communities, along with what it would take form them to see real progress in the areas central to a good life – education, income, and health.
Mannakee Circle Group president Brad Rourke reviewed notes and transcripts from the conversations and, with United Way vice president for field engagement Mike Wood, wrote the core elements of the report.
I appreciate the chance to work on this terrific project!
As some know, I have begun a monthly column published at Ethics Newsline, the flagship publication for the Institute for Global Ethics and one which I helped develop when I worked at that organization. This month’s column is about the lessons to be drawn for leaders from the Secret Service and DEA scandals.
When The Curtain Parts
Last week, two figures at the heart of separate scandals spoke up, adding another side to each of their stories. Together, they offer a sobering view to those who lead organizations about what can happen when the curtains are parted.
The first: A woman who appears to be the Cartagena prostitute whose early morning dispute over payment with a U.S. Secret Service officer touched off a controversy that already has claimed the careers of nine officers came forward and spoke to Caracol News in Cartagena. Dania Suarez described a night of carousing with more than one American on the night in question. Her interview has spurred members of Congress to ask why the Secret Service had not been able to interview her in their own investigation, which they now say is closed.
Meanwhile, in the United States, the University of California San Diego student who was forgotten in a holding cell for five days and who barely survived by drinking his own urine, told his story. He was swept up in a raid as U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) officers cracked down on a major Ecstasy distribution ring. Daniel Chong, however, appeared to be at the raided house in order to smoke some marijuana. DEA agents later decided to cut him loose, along with others who had been picked up in the raid, but never returned to his cell after telling him he would soon be free to go. He says he could hear agents outside of his cell and called for their help. They either never heard him or ignored his pleas. When he finally was discovered, he was near kidney failure and had to be hospitalized. This event is building momentum, there are investigations pending, and he is suing.
Each of these situations was touched off by one unfortunate event: an early morning dispute over payment, a misplaced prisoner. Each event then pulled the covers off of what may be bigger problems. . . .
Read the full piece here.
I’ve been thinking lately about how our attitudes shift over time, especially when faced with new learning or practices.
Many people are familiar with the “attitude curve,” which describes people’s response to change. It’s a U shape — people have to go through a low point before they accept change. This is a familiar idea in leadership studies (see, for instance, The Art of Leadership for an example).
I have been thinking about attitude curves in a slightly different context, however. Specifically, learning new practices. This can be a new job (learning new functions and norms), a new skill (learning how to do something), or even a new place (learning a new community).
The “Learning Attitude Curve” looks a little different, in my experience:
Here’s how it breaks down:
- At A, you’re in your normal state
- At B, you’ve been thinking about making this change, and have just begun. You are elated.
- At C, you’ve been learning your new skill for a little bit, and the bloom is off the rose slightly. The elation has passed.
- At D, you’re in the doldrums. This isn’t what you wanted, you don’t like how it’s going, you question whether you even want to continue. People bail out here. But then . . .
- At E, you’ve turned a corner. Turns out D was a bottom of sorts — here, you begin to acquire your new skill or knowledge with increasing ease. Your attitude improves and you begin to see that, even if you have a ways to go before you are an expert, you might be able to make it.
- At F, you feel as if you are well on your way. You know the worst is behind you, and you are glad you pushed through. But then . . .
- At G, it turns out that there are still ups and downs to be had. You continue to encounter mini-troughs. People often bail out at this point, because they worry it’s going to get as bad as it was in D. But it won’t. You’ve passed your low point. This is just a natural “down,” not a true inflection point. If you can stick through, it gets better. (Note that there are a number of “G” points, a number of ups and downs as you go forward.)
- At H, your new skill or culture or whatever is fully integrated. It’s a part if you, and you’re basically back to your attitude back before you got on the curve.
The length of the curve is different for different people and for different circumstances. As is the depth of the low spots. Taking guitar lessons, for instance, brings less intense low spots, and they come a bit quicker than major life-change pursuits.
When I first learned about the “attitude curve,” I thought it was an incredibly negative way of looking at things. But I have come to see that it is actually quite hopeful — at least it has given me hope, on many occasions.
It also helps me in dealing with others. With a new job, for example, it is helpful to know that “D” often comes about 6 months in. If I am interacting with someone who is new on their job, I can understand more about how and why they are behaving.
In recent months, I’ve been going through a learning process and have been riding this curve. Recently, I woke up and realized I had passed through “D” and was on my upswing. I know there will be ups and downs to come, but there’s a spring in my step and a song in my heart.
Knowing that there is a curve is useful, because it reminds me that whatever I am feeling about where I am at . . . it is temporary. It will change. That gives me the motivation to push through low spots and not bail out.
 College Fair The other evening, my wife and I accompanied our daughter to a college fair. She’s a junior, and this is an important part of the college selection process. Over one hundred colleges all came to display their wares, with many hundreds of high school students on hand to try to make their connections and winnow down their choice (or make themselves stand out in the minds of the admissions officers of their chosen schools).
It was a packed affair. My wife and I decided that our best course would be to let our daughter use the time on her own, and not try to guide, prod, or speak for her in any way. So, we each cruised the event on our own, developed our own impressions, and then the two of us reconnoitered in the bleachers to wait while our daughter finished her work. Her part took longer, because she had to interact with a number of people. We told her to take her time. We were fine.
And, in fact, we were. Many parents were sitting around us, occupied with their own activities. As were we. Both of us found the even fascinating in its own way. My wife, Andrea Jarrell, is a consultant to colleges and universities, and found it interesting to see how her work (viewbooks and branding for places such as Lafayette University, Swarthmore, and Columbia) was used and to be on the “consumer” side of the desk. As for me, I am fascinated by crowds and like to people watch, discerning patterns in their behavior.
Naturally interested in sharing our experiences, we each pulled out our smartphones and went to Facebook. Andrea had posted a photo along with a comment about how interesting she found the experience. I weighed in. Other mutual friends were commenting, and we were each enjoying refreshing our screens, updating our statuses, joking with one another, and sharing our observations.
It was an interesting feeling of being at the same time engaged with an event in real life, and sharing it on social media . . . all at the same time that we were sharing the experience of being there together. We were engrossed, living in three or four worlds simultaneously.
Then, our reveries and interactions were interrupted. The admissions officer from a school whose table happened to be right near us had been watching our behavior, and he’d sauntered over. “I have never seen a couple more . . . ”
. . . As he began his sentence, I filled in the blank for him mentally. “Engaged.” “Proud.” “Interested.” What was he about to say?
“. . . disinterested than you two,” he finished.
I was taken aback. We were, in fact, the opposite of that. If you could be “in flow” sitting on the bleachers at a college fair, we were there. Yet, I could see how it might appear that we were bored out of our skulls. I thought of it from his perspective. There we were, sitting together, staring into our phones, tapping away. We would look around blankly for a while, then back into our phones and tap away. Once in a while we might say something to one another, but we did this sporadically and briefly. Mostly, from his perspective, we were just sitting there.
We disabused our new friend of his misperception, and explained how interested we, in fact, were. We spoke for a while. Turns out the admissions officer has two children, one a senior in high school, and he has been interested in his own experience of the admissions process from the other side of the desk. We shared about this for a while, and then he went back to work.
As he walked away, I thought about our exchange, and how appearances can be quite deceiving, especially when you mix them with stereotypes. Because we looked like the prototypical bored and disinterested parents, our new friend assumed that was what we were.
I’ll have to remember that, next time I assume someone is not paying attention because they are staring into their smartphone. Maybe, in fact, they are more engaged than ever.
Friends and colleagues know that, for a number of years, I lived in Camden, Maine and led a large election-ethics initiative for the Institute for Global Ethics. Going to IGE was a decisive moment in my career, which up to that point had consisted primarily of work in government and politics (and some lobbying) in California. My work at IGE cemented my interest in and affection for work improving American democracy, which has continued to this day.
 Rushworth M. Kidder It also introduced me to IGE founder and president, Rushworth M. Kidder.
Rush passed away in early March. His passing reminded me of the massive role he played in my development as a worker, as a writer, and as a person. As my boss, he managed me with grace. As my editor, he taught me to write. As my mentor, he guided me to a deeper understanding of what it means to live ethically in the day-to-day of the workplace. While I had not been in close touch with Rush for some time, his loss leaves a hole in my life.
In 1998, Rush and I had the idea to start an online-only publication devoted to ethics. We began publishing what was then “Business Ethics Newsline” weekly in February 1998, if I recall correctly. Each edition contained a number of recaps of ethics-related stories, a link to some recent research of note . . . and a column on ethics by Rush. I remember that, when we were discussing the idea in the first place, one of the attractive elements to Rush was that the publication would give him reason to write again, regularly, in the essay form he had come to love as a journalist at The Christian Science Monitor.
Every week, for Ethics Newsline (as we eventually renamed it), Rush would pen a column touching on some aspect of ethics as it appeared in the week’s news. Sometimes, when vacation schedules or other things made that impossible, Rush allowed me to pinch hit for him. I learned so very much from deciphering his edits to my awkward, early prose.
With Rush’s passing, the Institue for Global Ethics has determined that it is important for Ethics Newsline to live on. Its editors (the same team of Jeff Spaulding and Carl Hausman who were its earliest editors) have reached out to a handful of people to contribute commentary on an occasional basis.
I am proud to say that I’m included in that group. My first such column was published in today’s edition. Here is an excerpt:
 [A]s I sauntered into my local polling place last Tuesday . . ., [t]here were eight poll workers, and two voters. The campaigns? Lackluster. The issues? Small and nonexistent. The discourse, such as it was? By turns harsh and vacuous.
Small wonder turnout was abysmal. Yet, why should this be? In a seemingly unimportant primary with low turnout, my voice as a voter is magnified. I have no real say in who gets to run for president. But I do have plenty of say when it comes to local issues and candidates. Why are there not more people taking advantage of this? Why do we, instead, bemoan “politics” as if it were a dirty word, and just stay home?
Go here to read the rest of the column. I encourage you to subscribe to Ethics Newsline, which is free. If you do, you will receive a weekly (Monday) email with a terrific overview of the week’s important news, with a special emphasis on its ethical dimensions.
And, from time to time, you will see columns by me.
Hope to see you over there.
As a part of my yoga teacher training with Down Dog Yoga, I have been asked to start a regular meditation practice.
When I first learned of this requirement, I thought it would be relatively easy. I have for many years had a spiritual practice that involved daily contemplation. I have learned since that the kind of mindfulness that meditation requires is difficult.
Over the last few weeks, though, things have clicked for me and I’ve begun to dial in a regular practice that I now look forward to with relish.
One of the books that we were asked to purchase for training has been quite helpful. It’s Meditation for Beginners by Jack Kornfield. (Affiliate link.) It’s very simple and straightforward, and comes with a CD that has a number of meditations recorded on location at various retreats. It’s helped me get started — and from there, I’ve begun to grow.
I started out just meditating for 5-10 minutes four times per week. Now I am meditating 20 minutes every day (pretty much: some days I skip, but I don’t skip two days in a row).
 Om. A Different Practice
For many years, as a part of my spiritual practice, I have engaged in morning contemplation of spiritual principles. Sometimes this takes the form of a written letter to God, sometimes it takes the form of prayer, sometimes I read inspirational books.
But meditating is different than all that. The goal is to quiet the mind, and bring awareness to the present. Contemplation, writing, and prayer actually work against that (at least, that’s what I have found). I am not stopping all that, but they do not quiet my mind in the way I would like.
So, as I have begun to meditate, I have become increasingly aware of the differences — and how far I have to go.
What I have found different than what I had been used to is that, instead of contemplating a spiritual principle (as I had been doing previously), I am bringing attention and awareness solely to my breath. Focusing awareness on breath forces my attention into the present and away from the mish-mosh inside my head.
This, it turns out, can be difficult. The mind has a tendency to wander. I was surprised to find out just how much chatter I have in my head normally. Planning, pondering, reviewing, worrying, hoping, regretting, recriminating, figuring, budgeting . . . all these things and more occupy my mind. It does not seem to want to stop, it just goes by itself!
But, little by little, just by focusing my attention on my breath, I have found that my mind quiets. I get little stretches of respite from the chatter. Over time, these have begun to lengthen, and they come more quickly. At the end of each session, I feel refreshed and ready to face the day.
My Routine
One of my yoga teachers suggests that we meditate first thing in the morning. “RPM” — Rise, Pee, Meditate. I’ve found that is a little early for me, and I tend to snooze off a bit, even though I am seated upright.
So, I wait a while until I have been awake long enough to have a certain amount of alertness.
I sit kneeling with my sitting bones on a yoga block (turned so it is at the “medium” height, resting on a long narrow side), and set my iPhone timer for the amount of time I wish to meditate. (I have learned it is easier than I thought to set aside the time to meditate, if I know just how long it is going to be.)
I close my eyes, inhale, and exhale. I bring my attention to the physical sensations of the breath — the feeling in the back of my throat, cool as it goes in. My belly expanding slightly.
As other physical sensations arise, I bring my attention there, naming the sensation (itching, itching, or, pressure, pressure) until it subsides. I try not to move or fidget.
When I notice my mind has wandered — which it does, often — I try to gently bring it back to breath, like I’m placing a puppy back on its newspaper. I don’t get uptight about it, I just return to breath. I do this over and over.
This practice has opened a new door in my world. I feel more connected and calm as I start my day. It used to be difficult to make it through five minutes sitting still. Now I find twenty minutes has passed by in a wink.
If meditation is something you are curious about, I encourage you to give it a try. Just start with a short time, a few times per week. See where it takes you. You might be surprised! I know I was.
I can’t seem to help myself. I get my dander up when confronted by improper use of idiomatic English (or even just plain, old correct English) expressions by people who ought to know better.
A few on my mind lately include:
- One does not “home in on” something. One “hones in on” it. [UPDATE: I have learned this is not exactly right. Both are correct. See comments below.]
- One does not “take a different tact.” One “takes a different tack.”
- “Alumni” is a plural word, and its singular is not “alum.” Someone is neither “an alumni” nor “an alum” of an institution. One is an alumnus (male) or an alumna (female). When gender is in doubt, the masculine is used. No, that’s not sexist, it’s grammar.
Whew! Glad I got that off my chest!
What are your pet grammar peeves? Add them in the comments.
It’s St. Patrick’s Day, so it is a good time to explore the Irish king in my ancestry, Tiernan O’Rourke. Tiernan (or Tigernan Ua Ruairc) was king of Breifne, a region that no longer exists, from around 1124 until around 1172. Breifne was where the current counties Cavan and Leitrim are. At the height of its power (when Tiernan was king), it extended from County Meath to County Sligo.
They say that, in old Ireland, having a king in one’s ancestry is sort of like having an elected official in the family if you are from New Hampshire. The jurisdictions are so small that there are many such officials. That seems about right. Here are the kingdoms of Ireland around the year 900:
You can see Breifne there, in the middle of the North and the South.
Tiernan, Dervorgilla, and Dermot
Even though there were lots of kings and nobles back then, my Tiernan played a special role in history. You see, he had a neighboring king, one Dermot MacMurrough (Diarmait Mac Murchada). In 1152, MacMurrough stole my forebear Tiernan’s wife, whose name was Dervorgilla (Derbforgaill). Evidently, Dervorgilla planned this thievery. According to Irish historian Geoffrey Keating:
[T]he wife of Tighearnan Caoch O Ruairc (Dearbhforgaill was her name, and she was daughter to Murchadh Mac Floinn, king of Meath, and not wife of the king of Meath as Cambrensis says) sent messengers in secret to Diarmaid Mac Murchadha asking him to come to meet her and take her with him as his wife from Tighearnan and she told the messengers to make known to Diarmaid. that Tighearnan had gone on a pilgrimage to the cave of Patrick’s Purgatory, and that, therefore, he would have an opportunity of quietly carrying her with him to Leinster. There had been indeed an illicit attachment between them for many years previously.
As to Diarmaid, when this message reached him he went quickly to meet the lady, accompanied by a detachment of mounted men, and when they reached where she was, he ordered that she be placed on horseback behind a rider, and upon this the woman wept and screamed in pretence, as if Diarmaid were carrying her off by force; and bringing her with him in this manner, he returned to Leinster. As to Tighearnan, when he returned to Breithfne and heard that it was against her consent his wife was taken from him, he made a complaint of this outrage to Ruaidhri O Conchubhair [the High King of Ireland] and to his friends in general.
Upon this Ruaidhri made a muster of the men of Connaught, Breithfne, Oirghialla and Meath, and set out with a large host to waste Leinster to avenge this evil deed Diarmaid had done.
O’Rourke mounted an expedition the next year, 1153, to steal back Dervorgilla. This “exchange” sealed the bad blood between MacMurrough and O’Rourke for good.
Dermot Travels To France With A Proposal
As the years progressed, the political landscape in Ireland shifted until, finally, MacMurrough was forced from his lands in 1166 and fled to France, where he sought out King Henry II. MacMurrough was set on regaining his lands and was looking for sponsorship.
MacMurrough found Henry, finally, in distant Aquitaine, and made his case. He knew Henry had ling been interested in Ireland. MacMurrough would help him, so long as Henry helped him return to power. According to the Old French Song of Dermot And The Earl:
Hear, noble king Henry,
Whence I was born, of what country.
Of Ireland I was born a lord,
In Ireland acknowledged king;
But wrongfully my own people
Have cast me out of my kingdom.
To you I come to make plaint, good sire,
In the presence of the barons of your empire.
Your liege-man I shall become
Henceforth all the days of my life,
On condition that you be my helper
So that I do not lose at all
You I shall acknowledge as sire and lord,
In the presence of your barons and earls.
Henry said he was too busy with other matters to invade Ireland. However, he did encourage MacMurrough to pull together his own forces and forge alliances with other Irish kings — and gave him a letter urging all of Henry’s subjects to rally to MacMurrough’s aid. MacMurrough returned to Ireland in 1167 and set about his new task with gusto.
MacMurrough’s first try was a failure. He set up residence near Ferns, but O’Rourke attacked him and he surrendered — and was forced to pay one hundred ounces of gold in compensation for his wife-stealing fifteen years earlier.
But that did not stop MacMurrough. He bided his time and amassed resources and forces. Eventually, he was ready to restart his campaign to take Ireland on behalf of King Henry II. In 1169, Norman forces loyal to Henry joined MacMurrough and the capture of Ireland began in earnest.
Eventually, this resulted in the Norman conquest of all of Ireland. (Many more were involved, it was not just MacMurrough. Indeed, his role diminished over time.) O’Rourke bitterly fought against MacMurrough throughout, including laying siege to his forces after they had captured Dublin. But, finally, MacMurrough and his allies prevailed. The Normans occupied Ireland until 1541.
 Aftermath
Tiernan O’Rourke lived until roughly 1172. As part of the distribution of power, O’Rourkes remained in power as Kings (later Lords) of Breifne until 1605.
Even though he was a cuckold, I hold an abiding pride in my illustrious ancestor Tiernan O’Rourke. His story is dramatic and shows how very human emotions (love, jealousy, rage) can drive historic events.
Learning about Tiernan O’Rourke made me curious to know more about my family lineage. In my studies, one thing I learned that my coat of arms is two black lions on a yellow background, an image I find very attractive.
I also learned that the family motto is “Serviendo Guberno.” I learned that this means “I lead by serving.” This has stuck with me and I have come to try to live my life by this motto (as have other O’Rourkes and Rourkes) — I try to serve others as the highest form of leadership.
I don’t always succeed, but I try.
As a reminder to myself, I have gone so far as to have my family crest and motto memorialized:
As last year ended, I announced that I had decided to take a yoga teacher training course. The first weekend (of eight) is done. I am both exhilarated and tired. I am excited to be taking these first steps along a new path, and to deepen my connection (and understanding) of the practice.
The teacher training is being presented by Down Dog Yoga — my home yoga studio. Down Dog has taught over 150 teachers. One of the strengths of the studio (which is consistently voted best of DC) is that all the teachers are of uniformly high caliber. As one fellow student put it, “there is no teacher I am hiding from.”
On the first day, we were invited to respond to a simple question: “Why are you here?” I had, of course, already answered this question for myself in a rudimentary way — else why spend the money and time to attend? Neither investment is trivial.
My rudimentary answer had been something or other about wanting to “deepen my practice.” That was enough to get me through the door.
 On the wall upstairs at lululemon Georgetown, where our teacher training is held. However, when it came my turn to answer, I found myself thinking much more intently about my reasons for being there, and the role yoga — this yoga — has come to play in my life. The style of yoga I practice is called “power yoga” and it is rooted in the teaching and practice of Baron Baptiste. It is quite strenuous and at Down Dog it is practiced in rooms heated to 99 degrees. It literally transforms me as I practice. I enter in one state, and exit in another. I enter as a head attached to a body — by the end of practice I can feel my body and mind integrated. The practice has taken me out of my head, and landed me right in my body.
This sounds a little kooky, but it is my experience.
There are many styles of yoga, and they all hold a different intention. Some styles promote flexibility, some relaxation, some strength, and some love. Most styles deliver all of these and more in varying amounts, but they all have a primary purpose. The primary purpose of power yoga is personal transformation.
Why Are You Here?
I said on Friday evening that “yoga went off like a bomb in my life.” As many of my friends know, about two years ago I had an epiphany around my physical body. I have had a handful of experiences throughout my life where I have been driven to make major changes in my outlook. Two years ago such a reorienting experience hit my physical body. Put simply, I realized that I was no longer 20 (even though I felt that way in my head). My physical body was the vessel that was carrying me through life. It was time to focus attention on its maintenance.
I have always been a person who enjoys exercise, but that was really the extent of my relationship to wellness. I would have said I was “a fit person,” perhaps even athletic. I had run marathons, and did some regular cardio work at the gym. My friends saw me as fit.
But my epiphany was that this dilettante approach to wellness was wholly inadequate. I was fooling myself. Because I had been blessed with a decent body, I had not had to face the shortcomings of the little attention I paid to my physical being. But vanity drove me to confront that which I had denied: I had gained enough pounds that I did not like the result. This was not about how I “looked” (although that did figure into it) — it was that when I looked at myself, I could not apply the label “athletic” to what I saw. I saw that my intention (fitness) and reality were far apart.
So, height of cliches, I tried a new exercise routine that a friend had told me about. Yes, I bought the P90X DVDs that you’ve seen on infomercials. And I did it, the whole thing. I had good results which I detailed on this site.
Looking back, there are three things I take away from that experience, which are now relevant to me: 1) I did not make any nutritional changes, so while I gained strength, my weight-loss results were minimal; 2) I learned that I enjoy strength training; 3) I discovered yoga.
Part of the P90X program is a once-per-week yoga session. The P90X yoga routine is hard. As I continued in the exercise program, and after it ended, I stuck with the yoga and began to do it more. It is hard to maintain solo exercise for me, so I looked for yoga studios. I tried a number of them, and nothing really gave me the same feeling . . . until I discovered Down Dog.
At Down Dog, I discovered the experience that the DVD I had been working with only hinted at.
I began to experience personal transformation.
Since that time, my yoga practice has grown, as have a number of other wellness-related areas of my life. I learned about nutrition and shed a great deal of unhealthy body fat. My entire relationship to my physical being has changed:
- I eat a strictly “paleo” diet (the evidence against the modern American diet, based on mass agricultural products, is compelling to me);
- I do heavy resistance-based strength training 2-3 times a week;
- I have abandoned long-distance cardio/endurance activities, as the evidence is strong that they are counterproductive to health and fitness; and
- I practice power yoga at least four times per week.
Of these elements, the two I cannot give up are the nutritional approach and the yoga. Other elements come and go, but the nutrition and the yoga are what are at the core of this transformation I am undergoing. I have never felt (or been) better than I am now — on a number of measures including feeling of well-being, capacity for exercise, and medical biomarkers such as cholesterol and insulin levels.
Why Teach?
My transformation is this: I brought consciousness to my relationship with my physical being. The fruits of this transformation have been life-changing.
Some may view my emphasis on physicality to be shallow. First of all, I engage in a number of other practices (I don’t drink, I meditate regularly, I connect spiritually with others on a regular basis) that are “deeper.” But secondly, this criticism misses the point. I have come to focus on my physical body not because I want to look cool — it is because I was forced to realize that my lack of relationship with my body was a gaping hole in my life.
Power yoga, as I have found it at Down Dog Yoga, has brought me into relationship with my body. I respect my body, and plan on taking care of it as I would an heirloom passed on to me by a loved one. It is this relationship I want to learn to pass on to others. We all live in bodies, and we can all be in better relationship to them. I have first-hand knowledge of the benefits of developing such a relationship.
I have so far to go in my understanding and practice. I know only a little — I am painfully aware of that. But if I can pass on the joy I have come to discover, then I feel I will be doing something beneficial.
And so, I embark on this journey. I don’t know where it will take me. But it seems clearly the next right step — so I take it.
I am pleased to announce a new issue book developed by the Kettering Foundation for the National Issues Forums titled: Social Security: How Can We Afford It? This issue guide, authored by Maura Casey, is the latest in the issue book library of which Mannakee president I am Executive Editor.
The new guide is available to purchase for download or as a hardcopy at the National Issues Forums Institute website.
The following is from the introduction to Social Security: How Can We Afford It?
 If anything, the recession that began in 2008 increased the concern about the cost of caring for the elderly because so many people lost their jobs, forcing some to take Social Security years earlier than they had intended. Social Security is one leg of a “three-legged stool” that also includes private pensions and personal savings. However, in tough times many find that the Social Security leg must bear more than its share of the weight…
Many Americans are reexamining the principles on which Social Security is based and are thinking anew about the nature of individual responsiblity. What does the government owe the elderly? Should saving for retirement be strictly an individual responsibility? Is it fair to require succeeding generations to shoulder the increasing burdens of supporting retirees?
The question we must face is this: how can we best provide for Americans’ retirement?
This 12-page issue guide presents three possible options for deliberation:
Option One: Shore Up and Reaffirm Social Security
Social Security benefits represent a promise made to Americans, symbolizing a shared commitment to one another that is a fundamental value of our country. The program has earned its near-universal support and the promise should be kept by doing whatever it takes to keep these benefits as they are.
Option Two: End Reliance on Social Security for Retirement
Government has been taking too much responsibility for the well-being of its older citizens, undermining the nation’s traditional emphasis on self-reliance. We should phase in a privatized system of retirement savings accounts, which could be regulated by the government, but controlled and managed by individuals.
Option Three: Reinvent Retirement and Social Security
It is unrealistic to continue to support a plan that enables people to retire in their early to mid-60s when the average life span now extends to the age of 78 and sometimes far beyond. Americans are living longer, healthier, more active lives. The compact that Social Security represents should be adjusted to account for this.
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In 2007, I founded Rockville Central (about Rockville, MD) and comanaged it until we ceased publishing in October 2011.
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I am delighted to announce the release a new report I co-authored for United Way Worldwide with my friend and colleague Mike Wood at UWW.
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