Global Dialogues

The prompt for this reflection series evoked a provocative chain of further questions around moral authority and, different but linked, moral leadership. Did it really exist in an idealized past? What’s different today? How does either its force or absence matter? And how might at least the finest elements of the ideal and the essential be revived? 

Classroom discussions at Georgetown prompted two lines of thought and further questions. 

A graduate course on ethics and international affairs has highlighted quite different senses and approaches to what ethics (with its links to morality) means. Some use the term “ethical” to mean good, and positive, contrasted in obvious ways to “unethical,” implying wrong or devoid of solid principle. But an ethical reflection demands an appreciation for differences in how even core understandings of principle are understood. So then, respecting and appreciating differences and diverse experience and perspectives, where can we find truly shared principles and values? Can we look to a common compass that all human beings might use, coming from different regions, religions, and perspectives? But freedom of conscience must mean freedom to disagree–we cannot expect all to move in moral lockstep, far less demand it. But is there a moral rock to stand on, or cling to? Bottom line: one explanation for the seeming erosion of moral consensus may have a largely positive implication: growing respect for pluralism, with the downside of polarization and constant contention and conflict. Dialogue in its best sense of hearing and marking across differences is an essential and powerful need as we work to solve the puzzles.

Classroom discussions also raise questions around the topic of leadership, moral and otherwise. Many contemporary students seem stumped when asked to name their heroes. There is a reasonable hesitation today to invest too much in heroes and their adulation or worship (which does jar with celebrity cultures and outsize roles of influencers). Admiration is fine—the outpouring of tributes to Pope Francis this week is testimony to what might be read as a craving for figures to admire—but critiques of even the most admired creep in. One commentator observed that the pope had a duty to be a global conscience “even if it’s a losing effort,” and even if “the world is going in another direction.” As E.J. Dionne Jr. observed, he was a spiritual rebel and happy troublemaker—one model for a reasoning kind of leadership.

Many have true heroic beacons: mine include Nelson Mandela, Abraham Lincoln, Franklin Delano and Eleanor Roosevelt, Paul Farmer, and Mia Mottley. But adulation and total adherence is anathema to free will and real appreciation for difference. We know all too well that no one is perfect.

In many respects the post-World War II period stands as something of a golden age for a convincing articulated moral frame of reference, as world leaders reached agreements to build global institutions grounded in what was termed a universal declaration of human rights. But the contemporary polycrisis or permacrisis shakes confidence in the very rocks of consensus on which we think the international order was built. I’ve been struck by a disdain some colleagues express at the very term “international community.”

I’m left with two somewhat contradictory thoughts. The first draws on Chinese Taoist philosopher Lao Tzu, who suggested that the best leaders inspire people not only to act but to see their action as part of their own will and conscience: “We did it ourselves.” The ideal for today should be neither adulation nor lockstep adherence but thoughtful, humane, reasoned commitment to sharing for a common good—what is best for a larger community. The second is a more realist view that morality and politics are inextricably linked. That means that morality can’t be divorced from its broader impact through political processes (from local to global), and politics cannot and must not be divorced from rock solid morality and principle. That also means a demanding and constant bridging of words and actions. I’m reminded of the moral wisdom of a young leader (in India) who derided a meeting as “NATO”—No Action Talk Only. 

The essence of the leadership we yearn for—and must demand for—international affairs is principled, politically savvy, and action focused. It cannot escape the realities and joys of the religious, geographical, cultural, gender, and other forms of diversity. But common threads of empathy and care for others—a “Good Samaritan” approach—can help provide the compass and guide principled models of leadership. That’s true for many levels that include the fractious international order that are the focus of the Global Dialogues.

Katherine Marshall is a senior fellow at the Berkley Center for Religion, Peace, and World Affairs.