Recently a federal judge ruled New York City’s policy of “stop and frisk” unconstitutional. Without sinking into legal terms, for which I’m singularly unqualified, I can understand the judge’s ruling in terms of the Constitution’s stated purpose to balance justice, personal freedom, and “domestic tranquility.” Without a doubt, these are difficult balances to maintain in our modern society. We no longer carry muskets to protect us from foreign invaders; and our need for an armed civilian militia is anachronistic. But our inner cities are a hotbed for all kinds of crime; and youth gangs, among others, carry weapons. Moreover, we are still in the midst of a drug prohibition era where the war against controlled substances has continuously escalated until America now holds 25% of the world’s prisoner population. So “stop and frisk” may seem like a logical response to stem a tide of violent crime and enforce drug laws.

Both those who argue for the NY policy and those who argue against it quote statistics to make their case. And their arguments are the problem. Statistics can help us identify an issue at the societal level. However, when policies are created to deal with the same issue at an individual level, we run into the problem of inapplicability. There is no diet suitable for every individual, just as there is not one ideal dress size for every woman. Madison Avenue has done well to convince us otherwise (yes, I’m a fan of Mad Men). But politicians and legislators would be wise to disagree. Each of us—including police officers—has to deal with unique situations, calling for critical judgment appropriate to the moment. Speaking generally, has the NY policy prevented some crime? And has it violated personal freedom in some cases? Most likely, the answer to both questions is “yes.” So should we then keep a policy that has had some success in crime prevention or should we abolish a policy that seems to violate our civil rights? The dilemma of the NY police is that they are caught in the middle of a debate that they cannot resolve at this general level.

Well, actually they could be part of the solution if the policy makers would stop lobbing statistics at each other and began addressing the real problem. What specific guidance is given the officer at the moment he spies suspicious activity. For example, how is “suspicious” activity defined? Is it somebody testing the locks on every door passed on a street? Or is it somebody wearing a “hoody?” What kind of review is given to each and every “stop and frisk” occurrence? Once again, I’m no legal expert and certainly not a “licensed” bureaucrat; but I offer a simple solution for consideration. Why not have officers provide a citizen stopped and frisked with an official form that states the officer’s name and the reason for his action? I’m not asking the officer to do more that he/she would in issuing a traffic ticket. In fact, he/she might write no more than “loitering in front of a liquor store” or “waving a gun-like item in public.” But the form would give the citizen the right to question the officer’s rationale before a police board or before the courts. Of course, this kind of feedback should be backstopped by enhanced police training. Profiling comes in many forms, not just racial. What the President recently said—“Am I ringing as much bias out of myself as I can”—most especially applies to officers attempting to investigate suspicious activities and keep our streets safe. What we don’t need is the NY mayor pulling statistics out of the hat that attribute a decline in serious crime solely to the “stop and frisk” policy. Perhaps the same correlation could be made to communities coming together to police themselves or to the constructive outlets provided youth by concerned citizens or to an increase in police presence on public streets or to the decline in sugar intake during the same period? That last item aside, there are probably many correlations that could be “creatively” made. But the task before us is not to win an argument but to solve a problem that affects the day-to-day practice of officers doing their best to keep us safe while respecting our civil rights.

I do respect statistical analysis, but it does not and cannot replace individual judgment in real situations.

Patriotism is “love for or devotion to one’s country,” or so says Webster. The word “patriot” is derived from the Latin pater, or father. We owe our sense of the word from the Romans whose devotion to patria, or fatherland, was also wrapped up in their religious devotion to their ancestors. During feudal times this “love of country” was bestowed on the person who sat on a throne. The monarch ruled by “divine right,” as stipulated by the church. However, in our times, this connection between religion and government has been severed, most especially in the American Constitution. That document is secular to the core. So what does it mean when presidents, congressmen/women, and senators take an oath to serve and protect the Constitution “so help me God?” I believe it means that religion—whatever religion is individually observed—must be sworn to serve the Constitution of the United States and not vice versa. This exclusivity of religion is the linchpin that allows for religious freedom. As a result of breaking with historical precedent (i.e., of “God and country”), American patriotism requires a unique oath of office. To what purpose you might ask? Well, the preamble tells us in words that should be emblazoned on every member of our tripartite government: to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide a common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure liberty for ourselves and our posterity. This is a very solemn oath that vivifies our founding document as much as the structural checks and balances woven into its fabric. So how must our political leaders carry out this oath to assure its purpose is realized? Whether in debates on the floor of Congress, in wrangling between the Parties, or in the institutionalized tension between the branches of government, I find at least three prerequisites that must be brought to bear: diverse perspectives on governing is presumed; a firm commitment to respective oaths of office is required as witnessed by the Almighty (“so help me God”); and consensus is obliged by the very words that initially established the rules of our governance, namely, “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union . . .” Sometimes, only the first of these prerequisites are observed. If we Americans pledge allegiance to “one nation under God . . . with liberty and justice for all,” then it behooves our leaders to move us forward as one nation under the auspices of God and the guidance of those governing principles elaborated in the Constitution. No ideological, theological, or philosophical argument should be allowed to take precedent over the oaths and pledges that define us as American patriots. To act otherwise is indeed unpatriotic in our American system. Without consensus, that system is simply dysfunctional. Put in other terms, debate is no more required of us than recognition of our common interest and acceptance of the will of the majority.

Now allegiance is a tricky concept. Its manipulation is responsible for many extreme events in human history: the crusades, the inquisition, nationalist socialism, communist totalitarianism, and so on. What makes Americans potentially different is the presumption that our nation represents its founding principles and that its actions are well-debated and critically appraised in the light of those principles before being enacted. Our soldiers, for instance, risks their lives on that presumption. They don’t serve Islam, Christianity, Hinduism, or any other type of “ism.” They serve “the flag of the United States of America and the republic for which it stands.” During a Democratic administration, members of both Parties fought side-by-side in the Vietnam War, as they did again under Republican administrations in Iraq. All citizens of this great country—and especially the band of brothers and sisters in uniform—must demand that both political Parties and all who serve in government give credence to their oaths of office and fulfill the promise of our Constitution. Its preamble, after all, is our common ground.

One final note: patriotism in itself is not what makes us exceptional. Our form of constitutional government is, however, exceptional in the context of history. Nevertheless, John Adams once referred to it as an experiment, for he foresaw its dependence on the wisdom of succeeding generations. No one can predict the future. But we can build on the legacy left to us for our posterity. Our current President keeps reminding us of our need to form a more perfect union. The way to do that is to incorporate the stated goals of our founding fathers into the fabric of American life and to hold our political leaders accountable for the same in their governance. Remember, “We the People . . .”

In our times, the meaning of liberalism and conservatism is . . . well, confusing, even contradictory. According to Webster, conservatism is “a political philosophy based on tradition and social stability, stressing established institutions, and preferring gradual development to abrupt change.” So how does this definition explain why many conservatives want to reduce the role of government, eliminate several cabinet level departments and the IRS, emphasize polarizing policies that would reverse decades-long practices designed to enhance women’s health care and promote citizens’ voting? To be fair, let’s see how Webster treats liberalism: “a political philosophy based on belief in progress, the essential goodness of man, and the autonomy of the individual and standing for the protection of political and civil liberties. . . in economics, emphasizing individual freedom from restraint and usually based on free competition, the self-regulating market, and the gold standard.” So does this characterization help us understand why many liberals support punitive sentencing such as three-strike laws (versus rehabilitation), an extensively regulated economy, and the Fed’s manipulation of the money market? Perhaps what these definitions do reveal is that Webster no longer reflects the contemporary sense of these “isms.” If you, my reader, will allow me, I would like to simplify the matter, drawing from an encapsulation of historical perspectives. In the most generic sense, liberals have always stood for human progress, while conservatives have been steadfast in the preservation of our human heritage. If we could start with this premise, we would probably all find a common ground. When desperate ideological forces work together, you have the constitutional convention of 1787. When they don’t, you have civil war.

When I speak of “common ground” in our times, the last thing that comes to mind is Republican/Democrat compromise. After all, Republicans are composed of conservatives, moderates, neo-conservatives, tea-partiers, libertarians, and far-right “radicals.” Democrats are no less uniform since they comprise liberals, blue-dogs, red-state democrats, progressives, and far-left “radicals.” Many of these designees resist the labels affixed to them by opponents: liberal Democrats now prefer to be called “progressive,” while conservative Republicans project Janus-like facades, as very conservative in primaries and moderate in general elections. Neither party member wants to be called “radical,” even though radical policies proliferate—like sequestration, preemptive war, drone strikes against sovereign states, secret courts, the internationally condemned detention of enemy combatants without trial and/or sentencing, and the refusal to pay our national debt (as in 2011 and now threatened anew this year). The current confluence of these liberal/conservative parties has produced policies that would make our founding fathers question the relevance of our Constitution. When I consider how often I hear that memorable document misquoted, I cringe and can only conclude it is so maligned for not having been read. Or worse, it is being used as a bogus authority for policies of dubious or even insidious value.

Maybe this blog is nothing more than a rant born of frustration. My lone logical resolve may well be a refusal to be labeled liberal or conservative. Either label prohibits honest dialogue for each admits diverse definitions and irrational arguments. It has been said that we tend to believe whatever we want to believe. It seems to me that party affiliation in the context I’ve drawn here is a box too enclosed for any critical mind. Should party loyalty continue to supersede reason, then we will have all succumbed to “The State of -Ism.”

A close friend shared a scene he witnessed recently. “Walking along the water just outside of Lisbon last night, 2 young black kids on bikes split the gap between me and 2 middle aged women to my right. Clutching their Chanel bags a little tighter to their hips, the inevitable: ‘That’s the problem with this country (the blacks). They are the ones who make trouble and challenges at school . . .’” The irony, as my friend was quick to point out, was that this conversation was literally at the foot of the maritime fort where Africans were once chained, enslaved, and exported to serve the colonial empire. I replied, “You just gave context the ladies with Chanel bags lack. Conditioned behavior needs no context, since it comes easily, sans self-examination.”

Yesterday, the President of the United States surprised a small bevy of reporters in the White House briefing room by upstaging his Press Secretary at the podium. Apparently he felt a need to refocus the attention already given to the recently concluded trial involving the death of Trayvon Martin. He opened his remarks by saying, “I want to talk about context.” He invited us to consider the real life experiences of African-Americans, including his own, and the historical context of black suppression in our country. His statements were an invitation to the white majority to change perspectives—to see the pain in the black community, to empathize. The African-Americans I know never ask for sympathy since they recognize no white person can truly walk in their shoes. But, as human beings, we should be able to at least see the pain “that doesn’t go away,” as the President pointed out. When our black brothers and sisters demand fair treatment and justice, I listen to them not from a sense of guilt: I’m not responsible for the sins of the past. I listen to them because we share a common humanity and because we are imprinted by a common heritage that unfortunately includes racial discrimination. The only guilt earned here is from a personal failure to listen, to empathize, and to attempt self improvement. We should not avoid self-examination. None of us are exempt from the “soul searching” the President prescribed. He even rhetorically included himself when he asked of each of us, “Am I ringing as much bias out of myself as I can and am I judging people, as much as I can, based not on the color of their skin but the content of their character.”

It is not my purpose here to review or debate the various prescriptions suggested by the President regarding the Trayvon Martin case. There are already critics characterizing the President’s remarks as “race baiting”—a label designed to demonize his intent and preclude further thought or dialogue on the matter. What I do want to highlight, however, is that real change begins with the individual. Buckminster Fuller once used the metaphor of the trim tab’s role in turning a large ship on the ocean to describe how a small device can affect a disproportioned result. The small trim tab accelerates the movement of the larger rudder and thereby the maneuverability of the enormous vessel dependent upon it. We can transform our country, but we have to start with ourselves first. Once we broke the shackles of slavery, now we have to shatter the cocoon of denial. Each of us has to face the realities of a bias that has permeated our society for far too long. To ignore this context is an unpardonable conceit.

If you were on a floating platform in the South China Sea—as I once was—you would have discovered a dangerous and perplexing dilemma. Though tethered to a not-to-distant shore, the platform hovered over sometimes murky waters where unseen dangers lurked. Before I could swim to that shore, I would have to choose my point of entry into those waters. What unseen dangers might have lay in wait for me included electric eels, possibly sharks, and always jellyfish, whose umbrella-like extensions could reach 4 to 7 feet in radius. Once I almost dove directly into one of those unwelcoming, poisonous umbrellas. Today, I find myself in a similar predicament when diving into news reports on practically any subject. The dangers in our media waters are numerous: political spin, biased commentaries, uninformed statements of facts, hearsay, fear mongering, hate speech, and so on. How does one know the point where he/she can begin that swim to shore or that path to truth?

In a free society that is governed by consent of the people, there is a responsibility that falls on every voting citizen to be informed. So where do we go for our news? I have two practices that have helped me become better informed. They are not absolute remedies. But they certainly help me be a better participant in constructive dialogues, whether on politics, current events, or personal meaning in an ever-changing world context. First, I try to find first-hand accounts of events, actual source data (versus derived a/o manipulated data), and informed commentary on both sides of an issue. I read CBO analysis, IG reports, analyses from officially or otherwise fairly organized study groups, commissions or foundations, the full statements of individuals who are often quoted out of context, and the disinterested arguments presented by thoughtful people who may disagree on an issue. Secondly, and most importantly, I weigh the case for truth first in the light of my own experience and then in the broader scope of human evolution. The latter cannot even be approached without some form of deeper thought than we normally attain within the boundaries of ego and cultural conditioning. Here imagination is necessary in the same sense in which evolution invokes creativity. Bear with me as I try to explain what I mean. As a species, we have evolved discontinuously from other primates and have leaped into civilization and advanced cultures at an exponential rate in the context of earth history. The intuition that has brought us insights into quantum physics, inspired our artists, and sparked the wisdom of world leaders like Gandhi, King, and Mandela is actually available to every one of us. These individuals triggered transformations in society because they manifested wisdom that all of us could understand because we too had access to their visions. The ability to find meaning in the constant flow of information—which is the fluid world of news today—already rests with each one of us. But we have to learn to rid ourselves of the preconceived ideas/prejudices that disable us from seeing the big picture. For example, what is the relevance of rote education to the development of a critical electorate? How does our current energy driven framework for an advanced technological society affect future generations? How does intolerance for unconformity in appearance, lifestyle or imagination further the prospects for an innovative and vital society? How can a democracy subject to a Constitution and the rule of law justify preemptive war, rendition, torture, life imprisonment without trial, and secret courts?

America may not be perfect, but we have evolved into the best democracy yet conceived by man/woman. Of course, the so-called fourth estate has an important role to play: it is a check on politicians’ self-interested distortions; at its best it offers the public an unsullied access to facts and evidence for our consideration. But it still falls on each one of us to sift through an information blizzard and to make sense of it all. That last parameter requires us to draw on a higher consciousness. Each generation has visionaries that show us the way. But, in the end, we have to look within ourselves for that communal light.

“I was scared of the black cat crossing the road in front of me, but I’m not superstitious.” Most of us would conclude from this quote that its author harbored some level of superstition. Why else would he/she feel scared? The cat offered no real threat.

So why did George Zimmerman feel Trayvon Martin was somehow a threat to the community—or even to himself. Now many pundits and journalists have already weighed in. I don’t intend to explore the validity of the “stand your ground” law in Florida as it was presented by the trial judge in her jury instructions. I will not question the verdict reached by a jury panel of six who labored with the appropriate application of the law’s reasonable doubt requirement. Likewise, I’m not going to criticize the Stamford police department’s delay in issuing an arrest warrant. Nor will I criticize the prosecutor’s case in chief: strategically it ignored racial profiling (allowing the defense team to characterize it as appropriate); and tactically it failed to force Mr. Zimmerman to testify in his own behalf in lieu of introducing his unsworn, recorded accounts of his actions. No, instead of re-litigating and rehashing the many perspectives on this case—which is already being discussed in practically all media and from every possible angle, I’m going to accuse myself of racial profiling. In fact, I’m going to accuse you too, my patient readers. We are all guilty!

Unless you are raised in a black family or have had close relationships with African-Americans, your attitudes about people of color have been formed by your personal experiences and the cultural imprinting of your community. In other words, a white man or woman normally will never truly understand what it means to be black in America. But what we can understand—and are obligated to understand—is our own reaction to black people. If you are the average white American, you already have been conditioned to accept certain stereotypes about your fellow black citizens. News reports of inner city violence or movies that exhibit black male violence merely serve to substantiate those stereotypes. On the other side of this equation, African-Americans also suffer from cultural conditioning. If Mr. Zimmerman was telling the truth, Trayvor Martin confronted him and asked, “Do you have a problem with me?” As an opening remark, this question could be no more confrontational than “can I help you?” If instead it was uttered in a threatening tone, it would display the similarly conditioned attitude exemplified by George Zimmerman. It’s likely that both men felt threatened by the other—and for no rational, objective reason. We all need to learn how to defuse confrontational situations, whether experienced as road rage, workplace antagonism, or an unexpected, potentially threatening exchange with a complete stranger. The first step, however, is to be aware of our instinctual or conditioned response. There is no way to overcome racism or any other form of prejudicial (AKA, profiling in legal terms) action without self-awareness.

Sometimes we rest too easily on our alleged progress in the aftermath of constitutionally enforced oppression and slavery. Certainly, we can all celebrate the achievements of the XIV and XV Amendments (re: civil rights and black suffrage), the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and the Voting Rights Act that followed. The moral boundaries of American society did indeed expand through the course of the twentieth century. If it will continue to expand in the twenty first century, we Americans will need to become more aware of our unexamined behavior towards each other. Only then can we both change as individuals and continue to transform as a society.