Wrestling with Good Citizenship

by Lynn Barendsen

Recently, I had the privilege to gather (virtually) with the Civic Collaboratory (link), a national group of civic and social innovators.  We represent a variety of domains (education, advocacy, the arts, technology and more) and are positioned across the political spectrum.  Many of us spend our days grappling with the tough questions of our day: how do we go about bridging the gaps that divide our country; what is the place of civic dialogue and social cohesion when we believe there are still deep injustices to rectify; how can we develop a shared language when we have fundamentally different truths?

I don’t have all the answers to these difficult questions, but I firmly believe we need to keep wrestling with our responses. In that spirit, I wanted to highlight some important initiatives and opportunities

• Read Pearce Goodwin’s editorial (link) to learn more about a two-day event creating thousands of conversations between Americans with differing opinions.  The initiative is called “America Talks” and you can sign up yourself to participate by clicking here.

• Watch the new documentary Our Towns (link), based on James and Deborah Fallows’ book, Our Towns:  100,000 Mile Journey into the Heart of America to learn about hundreds of local restorative initiatives around the country.  Both the documentary and the book illustrate how community and the building of a common language can help us to navigate our differences.

• Focus on our future leaders by exploring one of many student-focused civic initiatives, such as Student Voice (link), Kidizenship (link), or the Millennial Action Project (link).

• And if you haven’t already, please have a look at our recent blog series on Good Citizenship by clicking the button below:

Good Citizenship: A Series - Part 5

by Danny Mucinskas

The Hope of Global Citizenship

The concept of “citizenship” has become the subject of renewed interest and attention. After a relative decline in the use of the term in the second half of the twentieth century, citizenship is now more discussed than ever before. Yet while the designation of “citizen” can be traced back millennia in human history, it has a multiplicity of manifestations and interpretations that elude singular definition.

In European tradition, citizenship is commonly said to originate in the ancient Greek polis (link), city-states such as Athens and Sparta. These city-states created hierarchical social systems dominated by a small group that had the leisure to be involved in government affairs. Citizen was a status given to the few: wealthy, native-born men. In the Roman era, citizenship expanded further to encompass the free people who lived within the boundaries of the empire. The forms of citizenship practiced in antiquity subsequently had a profound influence (link) on the way that citizenship was institutionalized in states and nations in the following two thousand years. During the Renaissance, classical texts like Plato’s Republic and Cicero’s writing on politics and citizenship were rediscovered. They influenced visions and theories of the role of citizens in a political body. In societies such as the United States and the French Republic, which were (literally) revolutionary, the way that citizenship was constructed as a set of individual democratic rights stems from certain Greek and Roman ideals and practices. 

There has been no historiographic consensus (link) regarding the meaning of citizenship across time and space; it is clear that societies outside of the Greco-Roman tradition also developed complex views and systems of membership to communal and political entities. For example, in Chinese history, the state was composed of a ruler, mediating officials, and subjects (link) (or min, people in a political community), in reciprocity with one another. This schema allowed for determinations of who was and was not included in Chinese society by virtue of the interrelationships of these three groups; for example, those not subject to a ruler would not be considered part of the state. For many pre-Columbian Native Americans, tribal belonging was based on complex kinship ties (link). In the Middle East under the Ottoman Empire (link) of the nineteenth century, the closest analog to citizenship was the designation of being a subject of the empire as a multiethnic political jurisdiction (which became complicated for immigrants and those who intermarried with non-Ottoman subjects).

The smattering of cases presented above make plain that citizenship itself is far from a monolith; it has variously involved considerations of status, relationships to rulers, wealth, place, rights, kinship, interactions with other states, and various combinations thereof. Unfortunately, these designations have also been used at various times to exclude particular classes of people from being designated citizens, based on race, gender, immigration status, and other traits.

How, then, when citizenship itself is so fraught and nuanced a term, has discussion or invocation of “global citizenship” become so prominent in the educational landscape today? What does global citizenship mean? Can the idea aid in building a vision of citizenship that is at once inclusive, widely applicable, and productive?

Of course, this is a tall order. Moreover, these questions carry special weight at a time when international interdependence is at an all time high. Today, events that may appear to be geographically distant are often of immense local consequence. When civil war broke out in Syria, a humanitarian refugee crisis tested the limits of other nations to accept migrants. The emergence of the COVID-19 pandemic in Wuhan, China, quickly spread across the Earth through efficient travel networks. Carbon emissions created in large part by the world’s most developed nations will in all likelihood erase some island nations from the map in the coming decades unless drastic action is taken.

Undoubtedly, more crises will erupt. Education in global citizenship is one tool that can help humanity meet these challenges by emphasizing shared responsibility to create solutions.

Similarly to citizenship itself, global citizenship has not been universally defined and adopted; it covers wide ground and is the subject of debate and disagreement. However, a meta-review (link) of global citizenship identified several features that visions of global citizenship have in common:

It is a mode of thinking that connects the worldwide to the local;

• It incorporates self-awareness and awareness of others, including ones who differ manifestly from those in one’s daily surroundings;

• It is a practice that entails both empathy and knowledge of other cultures;

• It cultivates ethical decision-making; and

• It is actively participatory.

At the heart of global citizenship is a conviction that humans are capable of learning how to think and can as well choose to act mindfully in relation to the worldwide community. Global citizenship acknowledges interconnectedness, calls for intercultural sensitivities that bridge differences, and ultimately requires actions that are ethically-oriented. Using The Good Project’s rings of responsibility (link), global citizenship entails a sense of responsibility that extends to the outermost possible ring of international society and transcends borders and identity groups.

Thus, even though there are many versions of global citizenship in existence, and global citizenship education has been the subject of robust criticisms (for being neoliberal and inherently Eurocentric in nature in particular), the framework nonetheless holds promise. Whereas old views of citizenship, rooted in regional policies or traditions, were fragmented, inconsistent, and frequently exclusionary, global citizenship has the potential to unite and drive productive effort through connection and problem-solving.

Due to its significance and potential, frameworks of global citizenship have unsurprisingly been taken up in large numbers by educational institutions and international organizations. The adoption reflects wide-ranging support. For instance, national curricula in Canada, China, the United States, and several European countries now include global citizenship-related competencies. UNESCO has committed (link) to educational programs that foreground “global, not local issues” and that encourage learners “to become active promoters of more peaceful, tolerant, inclusive, secure and sustainable societies.” The United Nations Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) adopted in 2015 present a set of priorities, such as poverty relief, amelioration of climate change, and preservation of biodiversity, that have the potential to focus and direct efforts in global citizenship education (link) for the period ahead. The OECD has also included on its international PISA tests a measure of global competence (link) , a related construct.

 In recent years, The Good Project has collaborated with programs that prioritize forms of global citizenship education. Two examples indicate what global citizenship education can look like in practice.

1. The Global Citizens Initiative, a program that gathers a select group of students from around the world for over a week and introduces them to ideas including “good work,” entrepreneurship, and design thinking. The hope is that graduates will design projects that solve real-life issues in their home communities and beyond.

2. The United World Colleges movement, a network of 18 schools around the world. Gathering a deliberately diverse international cohort of students at each site, UWC has a mission for peace and a sustainable future. The first school was founded in post-World War II Europe by notable German-born educator Kurt Hahn, with a goal of fostering greater intercultural understanding at a time when international tensions were heightened. 

In seeking to foster intercultural understanding, both programs draw on psychologist Gordon Allport’s intergroup contact theory (link) , which has now been supported by many subsequent studies, The theory asserts that prejudices between groups will be reduced through contact situations, especially in conditions of equal status, intergroup cooperation, common goals, and support by social and institutional authorities.

To be sure, while not every educational experience can involve intergroup contact, the approach is one promising way to further the development of skills and mindsets related to global citizenship. Others include participatory service learning or virtual reality games that encourages meta-cognition and problem-solving.

As international interdependence deepens, the human population continues to grow, and environmental, political, and social challenges abound, global citizenship as an idea and an educational imperative can help prepare students to engage productively with others and the world. By its nature, national citizenship alone is limited in scope. In contrast, global citizenship can invigorate action in directions with wide benefits for all, in accordance with goals such as the UN SDGs, peaceful co-existence, and international collaboration. These are worthwhile goals, the absence of which have been at the root of human conflicts throughout history.

Naming these goals helps to explain why global citizenship and global citizenship education is so important: without the ability to understand one another and do work for mutual benefit, the greatest problems facing humanity may overwhelm us. The promise of global citizenship is to create collaborative solutions for future success and prosperity for all. But whether global citizenship necessarily grows out of local citizenship—or remains in some sense in conflict with it—remains to be determined.

Good Citizenship: A Series - Part 4

Good Citizenship Through Good Work: A personal reflection

by Shelby Clark

On average, the American worker spent 38.6 hours at work in 2019-- that is almost 2 hours above the OECD average of 37 hours per week (link). Some scholars estimate that Americans spend 90,000 hours of our lives at work (link). Given how much time we spend “on the job,” it is perhaps not a surprise that our employment often ends up serving more of a role in our lives than solely as a way of earning wages. For many, it’s a way of finding purpose and meaning (link). For others, it is a way to perfect a craft (link) or hone one’s skills. Still yet, for others, a job is a way for an individual to contribute to society and do good (link); that is, it is a way to contribute as a citizen. It is this last contention that I most wish to consider. What is the relationship between one’s work and citizenship? Below, I reflect upon my own struggle with the question of the relationship between good work and good citizenship.

When I went to college at Johns Hopkins University, I thought I was going to become a musicologist--someone who studies the history and structure of music. The summer after my sophomore year, I trekked to the Library of Congress in Washington, DC, to track down a Bach score for a faculty member who was abroad. I then spent the spring of my junior year abroad in Vienna, where I completed a musicology internship with a Gustav Mahler expert. As a sample task, I translated one of Mahler’s letters from old German into English; I spent weeks listening to Mahler’s Symphony No. 1 on repeat for an assignment. The summer before my senior year I applied for and received a grant to conduct research at the Cleveland Orchestra that would serve as the basis for my senior thesis. I sat alone in the archives--week after week after week--looking at how the Orchestra’s repertoire changed in response to WWII. In the fall of senior year, I navigated from my Arts and Sciences campus across Baltimore to the Peabody Conservatory so that I could take history of music classes not offered on my campus; musicology was not really a major offered on either campus and was instead something I had somehow convinced two advisors to allow me to pursue under their guidance. Later that year, I signed up for the GREs as I thought about applying to PhD programs for musicology. Yet, by spring of my senior year, I had applied and was accepted into several Masters programs for counseling. What happened? 

Being a good citizen--one who is actively civically engaged--does not mean that you necessarily show up to vote every four years, nor does it mean that you have to be the best volunteer in your community. Being civically engaged, or a good citizen, can occur in all sorts of ways. Indeed it can be all encompassing; it is something you can be doing, or thinking about, learning about, or working towards, at any time of your day, in any location.

Besides immersing myself in classical music in college, I had also worked all four years of college in the college career center. I began by answering phones and then slowly worked my way up to being the main assistant to the internship director. I spent 12 hours of my week thinking about how college contributed to students’ career success. I pondered how students could find a job that they valued--one that would both give them a sense of purpose, one in which they would find meaning.

As I reached the middle of my senior year of college, I began to apply these questions to myself: Would I find meaning in life as an academic? Would my research as a musicologist be of value to society? In which ways? In all, would I be a good citizen if I became a musicologist?

 The purpose of this blog is not to demean the profession of musicology; my musicology advisor was one of the best mentors I have ever had, and I still have the utmost respect and love for classical music and its history. My purpose is to question how we think about the connection between our work and our citizenship. For me, working in the career center, I was very aware that Americans spend a large proportion of their waking hours on their work. Having just witnessed the 2008 financial crash and the societal pathologies which had led to it, I was inspired to make sure that my work would meaningfully contribute to my wider communities and societies. At the time, I wasn’t sure if publishing in academic journals for musicologists or other historians would fit the bill. I knew that I always wanted music and history to be part of my life; but I just wasn’t sure if a life as a musicologist was going to be right for me.

How often do individuals similarly aspire to make a difference in society through their careers? In a recent survey of alumni from mission-based international schools, two thirds of respondents noted that the way they felt they were making the most impact in the world was through their job or career. Of the eleven options shown for how to make a difference, the second highest chosen was making a difference through one’s family or friends, at just under a half.[1] For example, one individual in the study made note of her attempts to make a difference through her career:

Interviewee: Yes. Well, I'm really trying as much as I can within the curriculum that I have to be that person at the school.... I really try to just be a way to broaden their horizons a little bit, and be a person in which they can see someone else than they're used to, even though I'm also from the same municipality. I grew up here and all of that, but just having experienced the things that I have, and met the people that I have and just being the person that I am being...coming back here to a place where, it's still very, like we don't really talk about it, it's still very to taboo in many ways...I try to push small change within my classes.

            I'm very specific about not pushing any gender norms in my classes that I teach...they ask me a bunch of questions. Like, are you a boy or a girl? Like, does that even matter? Trying to have those kinds of things….I feel like it's my one way of creating change right now. Just trying to have these kids be slightly more open-minded than they would have if I weren't there.

            And so in the music that they listen to ... or the way they think about English, maybe I can even get one person to become a little more fond of English, a little bit fond of learning languages. That would be something for me that I would have felt like I would have succeeded. So, I feel like right now my job is where I can create the most change. And I feel like I can, I feel like that's actually feasible, which is very fun, but that's also a huge responsibility.

            The fact that I can change these kids' minds when they're so malleable. I feel like that's where the biggest arena [is] for that right now. And I'm obviously trying to make that a good thing and trying to use it for good.

This person is a teacher, generally a career considered to be a service to the community, but, in addition, through this career the individual is trying to change norms regarding gender and other issues. As they see it, their career enables them to be a good citizen .

By the end of my time at college, I turned to counseling as a way that I thought I could meaningfully impact society. Rather than sitting in an archive creating research, I decided that I needed to work directly with people in order to try to bring about tangible change in their lives. Within two years I had received my Master’s in counseling, with a focus on school counseling. Thereafter, I went to work as a high school school counselor in St. Paul, Minnesota. Working with refugee students as well as students from lower socioeconomic backgrounds, I did feel that my work was meaningful and created some tangible impacts for some students.

Yet, by the end of two years, I knew it was time to return to my original love: research.

Let me apply some of our concepts to my own biography. At The Good Project, we define “good work” in terms of three attributes (the three Es): Ethical work seeks to have positive impacts on clients and on the broader society; Excellent work is high in quality; and Engaging work is meaningful and purposeful for the worker. Upon graduating from college I was so determined to contribute to society--obsessing about the ethical impacts of my work-- that I forgot about the importance of finding meaning and purpose in one’s work. This is not to say that I disliked being a school counselor, but rather that it never seemed to fit quite right. I missed research, I missed books, and I missed having a constant “purpose” when I went home at night. In terms of the three Es, I believe that I did ethical work; I hope that it was excellent in quality; but I did not feel sufficiently engaged.

I am fortunate--I was able to take a circuitous path back to my enduring love of research. By doing so, I believe that I am able to fulfill all of the 3Es of good work. Even more so, I was also able to find a way to merge good work with my initial hope of contributing to society more broadly; as such, I fulfill some of my own citizenship goals through my work.

I ultimately spent four and a half years at Boston University pursuing a Ph.D. in Applied Human Development.  I learned how to use psychological principles and apply them directly to everyday educational issues (in my case, I focused on curiosity and issues of character and social justice education). After graduating, I was able to move into my current position at The Good Project. On the project, I apply psychological concepts and methods to understand educational settings better – an ultimate goal is to create curriculum and assessment materials that hold promise for improving educational practices and outcomes. I feel hopeful that the work we do can make a difference in the lives of students, teachers, educators, and, in some way, over time, influence the larger education system.

As noted above, citizenship has a tendency to become an all encompassing idea. It can mean being politically engaged (e.g. voting), or it can mean social activism (e.g. protesting climate change). For me, it means in some small way trying to contribute to creating a better and more equitable education system for all. Thus, a broad variety of choices exist for how one might go about being a citizen and contributing to the greater good. Yet, given the large role that work plays in the lives of American citizens, and in the lives of citizens of many other nations, it is worth reflecting on not only whether you are being a good worker (ethical, excellent, and engaged) but also whether or not your work allows you to be a good citizen.

But that’s just my story. I ask you, the reader: How do you understand good work and good citizenship? Do you see these concepts as related, or as distinct roles within your life? Has your understanding of good work and good citizenship changed over the course of your life or as you’ve held different jobs?

---

[1] This is a yet unpublished finding from a study conducted by my colleagues and me at Harvard Project Zero.

Good Citizenship: A Series - Part 3

5 Ds, 3 Es and One Good Citizen

by The Good Project Team

Given recent events in the United States—increasing political division, yawning inequality between the country’s richest and poorest inhabitants, and well-documented violence directed towards people of color—the need for “good citizens'' is compelling. And that’s just within our borders. We need to attend as well to worldwide issues such as climate change and the current COVID-19 pandemic. Everyone is now a global citizen as well.

Our overarching goal at The Good Project is to help foster moral and ethical reflection in students and adults. One promising means of doing so is to practice reflecting on real-life dilemmas as they are encountered. In our conception, such reflection optimally draws on “Five Ds”:

• Defining the dilemma one is faced with;

• Discussing the dilemma with others;

• Debating the pros and cons of various courses of action;

• Deciding on an action (or deciding not to act); and

• Debriefing the dilemma by reflecting on what went right, wrong, or what might be done better next time one encounters a similar situation.

Let us take each of these in turn.

Defining the Dilemma

In our work on dilemmas, we speak about times when people are not sure about the “right course of action” or feel torn between conflicting responsibilities. To date, we’ve compiled fifty dilemmas in our online dilemmas database; these can be drawn on in discussions on all sorts of topics, across the range of ages, demographies, and fields of endeavor.

As just one example, let’s use our dilemma “Divided Loyalties.”

 Sara is the executive director of a national nonprofit that represents the concerns of America’s independent workforce, including freelancers, consultants, part-timers, and the self-employed. Sara’s grandfather was vice president of the International Ladies’ Garment Workers’ Union, and although she never met her grandfather, she has been very much influenced by his work as a union organizer.

Soon after being recognized as one of a group of outstanding social entrepreneurs, Sara was invited to the World Economic Forum (WEF), a meeting of leaders of governments and corporations from around the world. Because the WEF gathers so many powerful individuals together, there are often protests of one form or another, and Sara would have been forced to cross a picket line in order to attend the WEF. In this case, she felt torn between a loyalty to her roots in the labor movement and a responsibility to her role as a noted social entrepreneur.

Clearly Sara feels a dilemma. One way to clarify that dilemma is to say that she is torn between her sense of neighborlly morality and the ethics of her role. Neighborly morality refers the ways in which individual treats those in their immediate social circles; it includes behaviors such as honesty, kindness, caring, attentiveness, and other prosocial behaviors. In contrast, ethics of roles refers to the standards, norms, and regulations expected of those acting in a professional capacity (including students); one might think of the Hippocratic Oath for those in the medical field or the ethics expected of a journalist, a lawyer, a teacher, an auditor..

 In Sara’s case, she is being asked to adhere to the ethics of her role as a social entrepreneur—to advance the causes that she espouses in a responsible way. On the other hand, feelings of neighborly morality might call for her to show respect to those on the picket line—especially given her strong feelings of familial loyalty.

Discussing and Debating the Dilemma

 How should Sara decide what to do? What would it mean for her to act as a good citizen in this situation? In turning to discussing and debating the dilemma, we often suggest that individuals turn to respected others—mentors—in order to ask for their advice. Importantly, a mentor might not always be a single person to whom one looks up; rather, that mentoring role might be assumed by a fictional character, or individuals might pull different lessons from several individuals, a process we’ve referred to as “frag-mentoring.” At The Good Project, we also speak of the importance of “anti-mentors”—looking to examples of who we don’t want to be in a situation. Thus, in this situation, Sara might ask mentors in her life what they would do in a similar situation in order to be respectful to both family and work responsibilities, or, instead, what they did if they ever encountered a similar experience. (And if the mentors were not available, she might try in her imagination to recreate the advice that they might have given.)

In debating the possible courses of action, Sara should also refer to the Rings of Responsibility—whom will each course of action serve? To whom will she be acting responsibly if she crosses the picket line? What about if she elects to skip the WEF meeting altogether? Which action allows her to better serve her communities in an ethical, engaged, and excellent manner? For example, Sara might consider that:

• By attending, she might help her national nonprofit; she also could be furthering the needs of the communities that her nonprofit serves; she would be upholding her ethics of as a social entrepreneur; and she would be fulfilling a responsibility to wider society by serving an underrepresented workforce.

• By not attending, she might serve her image of herself as a supporter of workers as she honors the picket line; she could be serving her family by upholding her grandfather’s union legacy; or she might be serving her community (and the broader society) if she is publicly displays her support of others in the labor movement.

In wrestling with this dilemma, Sara would also need to consider her own values and how they might affect her decision regarding this dilemma. Perhaps she is already aware of her own values; or perhaps she might conduct an inventory, by taking a survey such as The Good Project’s Value Sort. Which course of action would be more aligned with Sara’s own values? We often speak about alignment as something that occurs when various groups or parties want the same thing or are working towards a common goal; but this desired balance can also occur within an individual when someone’s thoughts, actions, and values align with one another.

 Deciding on a Course of Action

Which course of action should Sara take? As we’ve described it, a “good citizen” is someone who acts in accordance with all three “Es” —specifically taking into account the community or communities to which that person belongs. Again, she might consider:

• Ethics: Sara has acted ethically if she makes a decision in light of her responsibilities to her several communities (to her organization, to the unions, to the ideals represented by the freedom to demonstrate), and if she acts in a manner that she believes will ultimately do the most good.  

• Excellence: Sara knows the norms and rules of her various communities well and in fact, her desire to adhere to the norms of one of those communities (i.e., not to cross a picket line) was what brought about her quandary. She recognizes that if she does an excellent job at the event, the potential impact she might have will expand her connections within the political community.

• Engagement: Sara has been deeply engaged in her work. Because this event brought together multiple communities of which she considered herself a part, the issues were especially relevant. She also is engaged with her family and does not take that affiliation lightly.

 Debriefing

When posing such a dilemma to students, we typically do not reveal an answer—it’s the process of applying the 5 Ds that is crucial.

However, here we can reveal that Sara elected to cross the picket line. She concluded that the harm her action might cause would ultimately be outweighed by the good she might be able to achieve by attending the event, making contacts, speaking on behalf of her beliefs about labor, and ultimately, furthering her cause. She acted in accordance with what she felt might, eventually, do the most good. In some ways, she chose long term over short term gain. Upon reflection, Sara was not fully at peace with her decision (she said she could never feel fully at ease crossing a picket line), but she felt that she made the best choice she could have at the time.

As mentioned above, there may at times be overlap between “good work” and “good citizenship.” In this particular case, Sara understands herself to be responsible to multiple communities and does her best to take these communities into account in her decision-making. The good work of a nonprofit director requires Sara to be a good citizen.

 Debriefing also involves a consideration of longer term consequences. Did Sara’s decision cause any family estrangement? What did she accomplish at the event, and were these accomplishments worth crossing the picket line? Would she make a different decision in the future, and why? These are the types of questions to consider in our efforts to foster good work and good citizenship.

Good Citizenship: A Series - Part 2

Good Person, Good Worker, Good Citizen

By Lynn Barendsen 

At The Good Project, our primary focus over the past two and a half decades has been on understanding the nature of “work,” identifying the features of good work across the  professions, and developing frameworks, tools, and resources to help nurture good workers and good work.

However, we have not been concerned solely with the individual in the workplace. Although “work” has been our research focus, we recognize that individuals are not only workers. We all play other roles outside of work environments; such roles often require responsibilities to our families and friends, to our neighbors, to society, and to the wider world. In addition to being a good worker, what does it mean to be a good person and a good citizen?

To unpack these questions, it’s helpful to think about two concepts: neighborly morality and ethics of roles.

First, what does it mean to be a good person? This is where the concept of neighborly morality is useful. We often describe neighborly morality as the Golden Rule: treating others in the way that you yourself would like to be treated. We notice ‘good people” in the grocery store (offering to help others carry packages), in our neighborhoods (shoveling walks for elderly neighbors), or on the road (waving others into lines of waiting traffic). Good people think the consequences of their actions upon other—especially those whom they encounter in daily life. 

A good worker is judged on work performed—and here we can make use of the concept of ethics of roles: the standards by which different professions measure their workers. Is it of high quality in terms of the standards of that particular workplace? Additionally, is the work ethical, taking into account the particular ethical standards of that workplace or profession? To be sure, not all workers are subject to the equivalent of a Hippocratic oath; nonetheless, workers are (or should be!) attuned to the ethical implications of their work or an ethical code which might include “doing no harm” or taking responsibility for one’s efforts. And does the worker find meaning in work? To be clear, a good worker may not feel excellent, ethical, and engaged every single day; but in general, a “good” worker strives to meet each of these criteria to the best of his/her ability.

As we consider good citizenship, it might be argued that neighborly morality and ethics of roles both come into play. Think “good person” with a civic lens: good neighbors consider their responsibilities to their neighborhood and treat others as they themselves would like to be treated. These are the elements of neighborly morality.

However, the ethics of the role of citizen are also relevant, involving knowing the expectations of a citizen in one’s community, region, or nation. In the US, for example, do individuals vote, and when they do so, are they well informed about candidates and questions on the ballot? Do they consider their responsibilities as citizens and recognize the impact of their civic actions (or lack thereof)? And finally, are they engaged—paying attention, educating themselves about current issues, and taking action, as appropriate? Of course, the meaning, rules and values of citizenship may vary from place to place. Nonetheless, the 3 Es constitute a useful starting point for considering how individuals understand their civic duties.

Recently, there has been a resurgence of attention to civics education—overdue, in my opinion, and vitally important. At The Good Project, we embrace an approach that guides not only the citizen, but also the person and the worker, by encouraging responsibility in all the spheres of our lives. We advocate a sense of neighborly morality, acknowledging that our “neighbors” are now global as well as local.

 The rules governing many spheres of work are also changing—new roles are being created (for example, in the digital realm), and old ones are disappearing (in many white collar positions). Alas, we can’t always rely only on overly politicized educational systems to offer guidance about standards for good work. Across many communities and institutions, including in educational systems, responsible adults need to model appropriate behaviors and attitudes. Only in that way can we hope to have members of the emerging generation accept their responsibilities in all they do, as persons, as workers, and as citizens.