Ethics & Society

I’ve had various versions of this post in draft for months; it’s not that I have nothing to consider or say on what’s happening in Gaza, it’s just that anything I’ve written seems so insufficient in scope and understanding. Equally, I feel my words are just a whisper in the wind especially when so many are speaking forcefully against the war to apparently little effect. However, I had a conversation with a friend yesterday about the nature of evil in the world; it’s so commonplace now and those who commit even the most egregious crimes face few consequences (or are promoted and lauded instead). I have to say something. It may not alter one bit of what’s going on elsewhere; but, if for nothing else, it’s for my own spirit and the few people who read this who might take a moment more to consider.

I’m, perhaps ironically considering we’ve just gone into lockdown in Sydney, thinking this morning of the thousand small interactions we have with others. Each of these, no matter how brief or seemingly inconsequential, provide some opportunity to change the course of one’s own and the other person’s day (or, I suppose in a larger sense, can have an impact on the rest of our lives). I don’t want to make that thought too grand as it would be exhausting to carry around and have it at the forefront of our consciousness wherever we go (especially in an urban environment where one has so many fleeting encounters each day). However, I think there is some space, especially in difficult times, to be more aware of and for each other with compassion and intent.

Before I begin writing about this, I want to acknowledge, while there is much discussion about the pandemic as a shared catastrophe, it will obviously fall upon us all in very different ways. I’m writing from relatively ‘safe’ Australia where, despite initial fumbles, the authorities and public have quickly adopted measures that seem to have warded off at least the initial hard impact of the virus. Yes, at the biological level we are all equally at risk; however the mitigation of that risk is vastly different depending on your location and/or socioeconomic status. Also, even within the societies that have prepared well and are taking adequate measures, the economic fallout from this will be significant (and ‘significant’ seems too muted a word). I’ve retained full employment and am able to readily work from home; that’s not the case for a tremendous number of people who either can’t do this or who are currently stood down from work in an industry that has closed shop for the duration.

This was published in the Morganown, WV Dominion Post yesterday. It’s my rebuttal to a letter to the editor from the day prior. The writer of the original letter claimed, as is so often erroniously repeated in America when this is mooted, that Australia has become a free-for-all of criminality and fear since the National Firearms Agreement. I will grant that Australia and America have very different underlying cultures that don’t make particular decisions on this immediately parallel; however, if you are going to posit an argument, you have to work from the facts.

I’m Appalachian. I’m specifically from West Virginia, which ‘sided’ with the North in the American Civil War; regardless, I consider myself ‘Southern.’ Each of the above are layers of identity and heritage. Above those labels I’m an American which, though we consider it some kind of concrete identity, is really so diverse an amalgamation as to defy any sort of compact definition. If anything, America, as I was raised to ideally understand it, is composed of dissimilar peoples who have come together in the United States. Our similarity is based on and strengthened by our diversity. My personal identity is expanded though by further experiences I’ve had in other places and cultures. In other words, my identity doesn’t come from existing in one place or only referencing that single place. Identity comes from an understanding of my place in the larger whole. It’s both looking back and forward, not something static and based wholly on the imagined past. It’s also tempered by an informed understanding of other people and their experiences. Neither my culture or my personal history have formed in isolation; before I can comprehend my own place in the story, I need to make the effort to properly ‘read’ that of others. Otherwise, I’ll have only a narrow and weakly formed identity based on my internal monologue.

This morning I received an email from Lyle Shelton, Managing Director of The Australian Christian Lobby. I have neither met Mr Shelton nor communicated with him in any way, yet he saw fit to send an email encouraging me, as a ‘‘Church Leader" to ‘‘activate’’ in response to the postal plebiscite on marriage equality. Mr Shelton did not contact me previously about aid for refugees fleeing to Australia from conflicts abroad; he did not contact me about the need for interfaith dialogue in a pluralistic society; he did not even contact me last week about an appropriate faith response to the homeless encampment in Martin Place. Mr Shelton has reached out, for the first time, about an issue he assumes must be the primary point of agreement that I, as a Quaker, have with the general community of Christians in Australia (namely that a sizable portion of Australian residents are less deserving of a given set of rights than ‘‘us’’).

I’ve had several conversations in the past months with Australians whose families have been here for generations as well as more recent immigrants. I’m noting that Australia, and this is really generalising, does not offer a strong sense of common cultural identity. There just isn’t a critical mass of shared history, art, language and literature that acts as an underlying core for people to hold. In contrast to, say the UK, which can look back at a thousand years of ‘place’; regardless of who people are or where they come from they can have some sense of place in where they have arrived. This just isn’t apparent in Australia; the Aboriginal past is so completely wiped from the culture that even Aboriginal people struggle to grasp it—so that’s not a viable thread (and would not really be for the majority of people living here anyway). The Colonial history doesn’t offer much in the way of a positive underpinning to society either. I sense that, for the majority of white Australia, there is this general unease over one’s identity. It’s as if there is a projected form over the envelope of who they are that doesn’t quite fit.

I woke Tuesday morning to the news that the Erawan Shrine in central Bangkok had been bombed; this is particularly poignant for me as I was at that shrine a week before to the day. I’m going to take care not to say ‘relevant’ for me as, frankly, other than the shared humanity I have with the victims, I am not really connected to the incident. I think there can be a bit of ‘adventure hubris’ in saying too eagerly, ‘yeah, I was right there man…well, a week before but, hey, close call wasn’t it?’

Today was ANZAC Day (the Australian Memorial Day); I’m conflicted over the concept of war memorial. Earlier this week, I made this photograph of a wood carving in the mezzanine at work (click on the image to see it larger). It was commissioned in the 1950’s by the Federation to commemorate teachers who served and died in World War I & II. It depicts a prone soldier holding what seems to be either a bouquet of some sort or perhaps a handful of grasses and what I assume is meant to be a Bible in the other hand. It’s not clear whether he is resting or is, indeed, dead; the text reads ‘He served in war that we might live in peace’. That’s debatable for WWI, where the Australians suffered a terrible defeat in far away Gallipoli (observed today); perhaps less so for WWII where they were directly at risk from Japanese invasion.

Because an airplane flew overhead
At 4AM
I am awake.
It is the interconnectedness of all things;
Because, two days ago,
In an intersection somewhere 
In Denver,
The flight mechanic responsible for this plane
That flew overhead
At 4AM,
Missed a stop sign and nearly
Ran over a pedestrian,
He was upset and, later that day,
Forgot to note he had repaired a minor problem in a pump.
But, when the plane landed in Fiji, the prudent pilot
Was concerned and had it checked.
This only took a moment;
But, because of this, they missed a take off window.
Whilst they were waiting, the engineer there noticed something else
That was critical and had to be repaired
Thus delaying the flight several hours and putting it in to Sydney
At 4AM; awaking a swath of sleeping suburbs.
Because of that pedestrian, who had paused for a moment
To greet a neighbour in Denver who had surgery some weeks ago.