High School Students Converge for Global Citizenship Summit

By Daniel Mucinskas

From July 28-August 5, 2017, the Global Citizens Youth Summit returned to the Harvard Faculty Club for its fourth year, bringing together a group of 28 students from all over the world for nine days of cross-cultural exchange, civic-minded learning, and service project design.

image of the globe

The Summit is a program of the Global Citizens Initiative, founded by Yumi Kuwana with the mission of empowering diverse groups of young people to become lifelong ethical leaders of positive change. The Harkness method of discussion-based pedagogy and the principles of design thinking are cornerstones of the experience.

This year’s attendees were drawn from 21 different countries and 35 cultural heritages. Over the course of the week, the scholars spoke with experts in leadership and entrepreneurship, debated various topics with one another around classroom tables, and explored Harvard and Boston. Each student also created a “glocal” (think global, act local) project to address a social problem.

The Good Project’s own frameworks were also present across sessions that covered the “three Es” of Good Work: engagement, ethics, and excellence. Lecturers illustrated these themes by discussing:

• the engagement of Patrick Lydon of the Camphill Community for the disabled in Ballytobin, Ireland;

• the myriad of current ethical problems posed by advances in scientific knowledge; and

• the meaning of excellence as a parent.

As the Summit provided us with the chance to directly observe The Good Project’s framework in action, we were eager to speak with students about their experiences and curious to know how they had reacted to the “three Es.” We were also interested in how these young people conceptualized Good Work and global citizenship. To learn more, we sat down with three students for a conversation on these topics, guided by a few questions.

The scholars’ answers demonstrate nuanced ideas about “good work,” influenced by the Summit. Of course, the story does not stop here, as these young people hope to become leaders in their respective communities. We hope that they go on to do Good Work in the wider world in the future.

Below, we have included selected responses to our questions, which have been edited for clarity.

Q: Thinking about the three talks you heard on engagement, ethics, and excellence, what did you find compelling?

“I enjoyed the content of each of the lectures on excellence, engagement, and ethics. However, the actual content has stuck with me less than the overarching topics themselves. I will think more about excellence, engagement, and ethics, as well as the different perspectives on these topics I have heard from my peers.”

“A big takeaway for me was that every action we take and every decision we make has ethical consequences. Ethics and morality permeate all aspects of life, and the ‘right choice’ in many situations is often not apparent. In the lecture about the ethics of science, I enjoyed debating the line between the benefits of progress and areas where we need to step back and make sure not to cross a moral line.”

Q: Did anything in the three talks challenge your views or assumptions?

“My mindset hasn’t changed so much as it has grown. I have taken the time to listen to my peers and to interrogate their perspectives and my own.”

“I really enjoyed the discussion we had after the lecture about ethics, grappling with whether animals and humans have the same rights, which is an issue I have not thought about before. On a wider note, I have noticed that the students at my high school have the same thoughts about most issues; even though I attend an international school with a diverse student body, our ideas and convictions are not as dissimilar as one might think. The Summit has allowed me to hear multiple opinions to which I am not often exposed.”

“This program has put my own mentality and feelings into a global context. I can see how people from other cultures think about particular issues and empathize with them.”

Q: What does “good work” mean to you?

“I believe in a balance between the selfish and the selfless, both satisfying yourself and benefiting society. At the end of the day, you are the ultimate local space through which change happens.”

“Good intentions don’t necessarily have good results. Doing good is difficult, and it is hard to always take actions that don’t have any associated negativity whatsoever. However, work should be personally engaging and ethical at once. I’m still learning how to do good in the world, and it is crucial to give young people time to develop their understandings of good work.”

“Some people have great opportunity, due to their resources or positions, to do good for others. Those who can help communities need to take the opportunity to do so.”

Q: What values guide your life and your goals?

“My values might vary, but the constant throughout my life is to do something that will result in positive change.”

“My family instilled in me a strong sense of hard work. My grandparents came to their country as immigrants with nothing, but they persevered and provided a better life for their children by working hard. Through education, I can follow in their footsteps.”

“I want to serve others and be part of a community. I try not to worry about external motivations like money and instead focus on putting effort into my passions.”

Q: What does it mean to be a global citizen?

“A global citizen is a member of the world community, with the willingness to go beyond the local level and explore further. I will return home with a commitment to benefit society.”

“We are all human, and we need to be compassionate and sympathetic to others despite our differences. I made friends easily at this Summit, and even though we are all from different countries, my time here has helped me see that we are similar in so many ways.”

“This experience both brought me out of my comfort zone and took me closer to home. A global view allows you to put local problems in context. To me, a global citizen is someone who is not afraid to see a little of themselves in everyone.”

Helping Children Think About Goodness and Caring

By Luigina Mortari

In a previous blog post in February, Luigina Mortari, Scientific Director of the Center of Educational and Didactic Research at the University of Verona, Italy, described the “Melarete” curriculum that she and her colleagues developed to expose elementary school students to concepts of ethics, virtue, and care. In this second post, we hear more about this program’s activities, theoretical basis, and student outcomes.

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“MelArete” is an educative program and research project aiming at enhancing and exploring children’s ethical thinking. Over the past eight years, we have worked with classes of Italian primary school students on two central topics: care and virtue. This program is rooted in two main theses:

• acting “good” means to take care of others and understand the impact of our actions (Noddings, 1984; Mayeroff, 1990; Tronto, 1993; Held, 2006; Mortari, 2015);

• taking care of others means to act virtuously (Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics).

During the past year, the project involved six 4th grade classes of primary schoolers (106 nine and ten y.o. children) and eight kindergarten classes (57 five and six y.o. children).

For each of these classes, twelve sessions took place, during which different activities were promoted with the aim of encouraging children to reflect on age-appropriate ethical concepts and experiences. For example, the first meeting focused on the meaning of the words “good” and “care.” The researcher introduced the story of “Puc and Pec,” two jaguars, one of whom takes care of the other through acts of kindness. The narrative models practices of good friendship and care for others, stimulating the children to think about how to act with care as a fundamental building block of goodness.

In the primary school classrooms, the story was presented through pictures, while with the kindergarten students, it was animated with puppets. After the story was presented by the researcher, children were involved in a basic Socratic conversation, during which they were asked to answer to the following questions:

• The word “good” is a beautiful word. What comes to your mind when you hear this word?

• The word “care” is another beautiful word. What comes to your mind when you hear this word?

These types of Socratic conversations have a long history and follow the “maieutic method” to bring children’s ideas of ethical concepts into full view and are therefore useful as an educational and research tool. As in “Socratic Circles” (Copeland, 2005), open conversations are used to promote the exchange of ideas in order to develop critical abilities like listening, thinking, and discussing. Socratic conversations start from an eidetic question, that is, a question about the essence of a phenomenon. After having formulated the question, the researcher guides the discussion by listening to the participants’ ideas and encouraging them to further examine their thoughts, in order to individuate their points of clarity and shadow.

We can find this method in the Platonic dialogues (for example, in the Charmides, when Socrates tells his interlocutor, “Say what, in your opinion, temperance is” (159a); or in the Gorgias, we find Socrates asking his interlocutor to precisely indicate the object of the rhetoric: “Consider yourself questioned by both these men and myself, and give us your answer. What is this thing that you claim is the greatest good for humankind, a thing you claim to be a producer of?” (452d)). Analogously, in an elementary or kindergarten class, we encourage children to examine their ideas about concepts such as virtue, justice, respect, etc. The researcher acts as a facilitator, guiding the conversation in order to stimulate children to reflect deeply with their own experience as a starting point. Children’s contributions to the conversation were not evaluated as right or wrong; instead, the researcher expressed gratefulness for the children’s willingness to share their thoughts.

The discussions of good and care were audio-recorded and transcribed. In kindergarten, after the conversation, children were required to draw the moment of the story that most impacted them and then to explain to the researcher what they drew and what the word “good” meant to them (these definitions were transcribed by the researcher under each drawing). Collected data demonstrates the richness of children’s thinking. In the table below, we present a selection of children’s thoughts collected in primary school and kindergarten.

We hope that these responses show the various ways that students of a young age are already beginning to conceptualize their ideas of goodness and caring. These ideas should be explored further and nurtured in positive directions.

References

Aristotle. Nicomachean Ethics (2nd ed.). Translated by T. Irwin. Indianapolis/Cambridge: Hackett Publishing Company, 1999.

Copeland, M. (2005). Socratic Circles. Portland, Maine: Stenhouse Publishers.

Held, V. (2006). The Ethics of Care. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Mayeroff, M. (1990). On Caring. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.

Mortari, L. (2015). Filosofia della cura. Milano: Raffaello Cortina Editore.

Noddings, N. (1984). Caring. A Feminine Approach to Ethics and Moral Education. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Plato. Complete works. Edited by J. M. Cooper. Associate editor D. S. Hutchinson. Indianapolis/Cambridge: Hackett Publishing Company, 1997.

Tronto, J. (1993). Moral Boundaries. London: Routledge.

The Wisdom of John Bogle

Nowadays, when one thinks of professions, the role of “investor” does not leap to mind. Nor, for that matter, does banker or financial analyst or other roles that entail the accumulation, deployment, or investment of funds or other forms of capital.

The situation used to be different. Indeed, in the middle of the 20th century, the local banker or investment counselor was seen as an individual—indeed, usually the representative of a small bank in the community or an individual practitioner. And it was generally assumed that this investor’s primary obligations were to the individual over whose funds he or she had stewardship.

One of my heroes—and the hero of millions of investors worldwide—is John Bogle, founder of The Vanguard Group and creator of the first index mutual fund that was available to the general public. In his essay “Balancing Professional Values and Business Values,” Bogle cites the examples of Adam Smith, the 18th century polymath, and Benjamin Graham, the 20th century scholar of economics and investment, to remind us of the ethical precepts that should guide the thought and action of investors today. And he draws on an article about the professions, published a dozen years ago by Lee Shulman and me.

Writers rarely know whether their writings are noticed, and, if so, by whom and with what effect. I was deeply honored when John Bogle, vigorous at 89, sent me his fine essay, along with a personal note.

The Yin and Yang of the Medical Profession

One morning in mid-December 2016, while we were in New York City, Howard had the misfortune of suffering a sudden attack of “acute necrotizing pancreatitis.” A terrifying diagnosis. We’d never heard of this, and we don’t recommend it! Howard became very ill and remained so for five months.

Fortunately, the attack occurred just a few blocks from a major hospital, NYU’s Langgone Medical Center, where we went by ambulance. After one week of rest and expert care, Howard was past the acute stage, and we were able to return home to Cambridge. Howard then again received expert care at the Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center over the next five months, largely at home but with frequent trips to the hospital’s advanced endoscopy suite. At the time of this writing Howard is back to health—or, as he likes to quip, “back to his old complaints.” And, as part of this recovery, he and his wife Ellen have drawn some broader lessons about medicine and about the professions in general.

Living in the Northeast of the United States, having excellent medical coverage, and access to a network of specialists, we could reasonably expect that Howard would receive first-rate care. And fortunately he did. But what impressed both of us was that the care transcended appropriate tests, procedures, and drugs. We had three physicians: Tyler Berzin, the gastroenterologist who healed Howard’s pancreas via five endoscopies; Dana Fugelso, the surgeon who removed his offending gallbladder; and Samuel Osher, our long time internist. All three not only remained in constant and close contact with one another, but they also maintained an ever deepening relationship to both of us over the period of illness and recovery. To unpack the metaphor of the title, they complemented the “yin” of medical expertise with the “yang” of personal attention and caring.

We can reasonably expect that, in the 21st century, in a major medical center, physicians will keep up with the latest findings and prescribe the appropriate treatments. But given the pressures of paperwork, the increasing regulation of almost every aspect of treatment, the demands of time and scheduling in a major metropolitan area with highly competitive specialty care, and seemingly unending national debates about health policy, it’s easy to see why the personal, caring, human dimension can be lost or largely attenuated. It’s tempting to assume that this personal dimension from the expert physicians can be supplied either by other personnel—residents, nurses, paraprofessionals, or clergy—or, less happily, by artificial means, such as robots programmed to be empathetic. Yin from the physician, yang from others, be they living or artificial.

What we experienced firsthand was something very different and quite wonderful. Nearly every day, we reported in person or via email to the three doctors, describing the symptoms that had emerged, the actions, if any, we had taken, and the questions that had arisen. We received immediate feedback, sometimes in the form of an email 30 minutes later, other times in the form of a phone call three minutes later. And not infrequently more than one of our three physicians responded. Several times when we had not emailed for a few days, Dr. Berzin called us just to check on how things were going. Unheard of! We were often scared and worried and anxious—because unexpected symptoms or technical snafus occurred—and the fact that we were in such close touch with our physicians was, if we may say so, psychologically life-saving.

The medical issues took center stage and appropriately so; but over the course of the several months, we came to know our three physicians as human beings with their own families and their own concerns— and they, in turn, learned about our own lives, struggles, and more positive developments as well. The yin of knowledgeable care was complemented, appropriately and quite lovingly, with the yang of personal contact, communication, and caring.

While the treatment was serious, there were also lighter moments. Asked how much “work” I could do, one doctor said, “Do what you feel comfortable doing.” A second doctor said, “Howard, Your health is first and foremost. Drop everything and rest!” When we pondered these contrasting bits of advice, and asked the third doctor, we received the response, “Perhaps you should split the difference.” And so we did.

One can appropriately ask, “What difference did the yang really make?”, or “Did it make enough of a difference to justify the possible neglect of other patients, or the invasion of the doctors’ personal time as they responded to emails even at the oddest of hours?” We posed this latter question to one of the physicians who replied, “My patients come first, and I am always here for them. This is not just a profession for me, it is a calling.” We wish that phrase were on the lips of every physician—indeed, of every professional; that’s the kind of world in which we—and presumably the readers of these words—would like to live. None of our physicians were “concierge” physicians, offering extra care to an elite for extra compensation. And while we may have benefited from having lived for a long time within a university community, we believe that these physicians offer five star treatment to all in their care.

As readers of this blog know, all of our professions are undergoing enormous disruptions, and many may not survive in a form that we would recognize. Indeed, in the future, much of the “expertise” of professions will be handled either by more easily-trained paraprofessionals or by computer programs that are at least as accurate, and perhaps more accurate, than the human beings that they are designed to replace.

But rather than replacing the professional, we are hopeful that we can maintain and bolster the more humane aspects of the professions—the personal knowledge, contact, understanding, and interpretive skills that one human being—or, in our fortunate case, three human beings—can provide to those who are in need of professional services, be they legal, medical, spiritual, educational, or work-related… and to concerned members of their families. The sense of a calling—that precious descriptor—is vital for the professional, those whom he or she serves, and the health (if we may) of the community. For those of us who care about the professions, we need to understand how such exemplary professionals came to the stance that they have voluntarily assumed, how they maintain those roles, and how best to inspire others not only to fill out those important check lists but also to regard their work as a calling.

Ellen Winner and Howard Gardner will happily celebrate their 35th wedding anniversary this year.

When Colleges Act Like Businesses: Is It Ethical?

by Barbara Hou

I recently came across an article that highlighted a troubling practice: In order to meet their enrollment and net revenue targets, some colleges are reaching out and offering more money to students who did not respond to their acceptance offers, after those students have already made decisions to enroll at other colleges and after the official decision deadline. Here I review what makes the practice unethical, and also present counterarguments that deserve to be considered.

1) Violates Published Deadlines. Colleges present themselves as nurturing good citizens, and good citizens play by generally agreed upon rules. Colleges that make representations about their deadlines are supposed to stand by them. By reaching out to students and changing their financial aid terms, these institutions change the rules of the game, manipulate students’ decisions, and entice students to renege on their commitments to other colleges.

2) Reopens a College Decision Process. Students are forced to revisit what can be an agonizing decision process. As one example, colleges may offer more money but not enough to make it affordable.

3) Makes Students Narrowly Money Minded. Importantly, the practice puts money front and center, making it a determining factor for why a student would choose one school over another, (I compare this to someone who takes a job solely for the salary without regard to the mission or methods of the employer.) Schools that dangle money likely are not a student’s first choice school, and students who accept such offers likely have compromised other possibly more valid considerations.

4) Turns Students into Commodities. Students literally become something that can be negotiated, haggled over, and bought. Colleges are supposed to offer an education, not be bazaars.

5) Takes Advantage of Students and Other Colleges. Finally, colleges that dangle money after the decision deadline engage in a bait and switch, if not a price-gouging scheme. By holding back funds until the last minute, these colleges can tactically collect as much tuition revenue as possible and in the process take advantage of other colleges who have played by the rules and locked in their commitments.

For these reasons, one might assert that if the college cannot make it ethically, it should go out of business. But are there reasons to think that the practice is not actually unethical?

1) Giving an Option. Looked at another way, these colleges do not force students to compromise on their values but give students a chance to re-evaluate them. Because the college has more unfilled seats than it expected, it now has the flexibility to offer stronger discounts to students. There may be nothing nefarious nor manipulative about this fact.  Indeed students also may be better able to take advantage of collegiate opportunities.

2) All Colleges Compete for Students. Colleges often compete for students based on less than ideal considerations, including beautiful landscaping or gleaming residential and gym amenities – unnecessary expenses that drive up the cost of college. Colleges also may match financial aid packages of a competitor, even if a student may have initiated the conversation.

3) Mission-Minded. Such tactics increase the likelihood that the campus can survive; offer an education that is worthy; and make an educational opportunity accessible to a broader swath of the population.

How can we reconcile these competing arguments? Having very briefly laid out some of the dimensions to this ethical issue, I suggest that colleges can be transparent about the role of money in their enterprises. For example, with regard to this specific issue, colleges can explicitly declare:

-Whether they will or won’t re-open financial aid considerations after the decision deadline. In that way, all players will know the situations they may confront; and

-Whether they allow students to make multiple deposits, and whether they actively rescind admission offers to students discovered to have made multiple deposits.

Going beyond the issue under discussion, colleges should also be candid about other less than ideal practices, such as: (i) whether they “gap” students by admitting students with aid that falls short of a student’s financial need, (ii) engage in “need-sensitive” admissions, (iii) give preferences to legacies, (iv) allow donations to influence offers of admissions, (v) offer merit aid to attract financial returns rather than to reward academic performance, or (vi) lower admission standards for athletes.

Such candor would allow us to open up a conversation about whether practices that may be appropriate in business are also suitable in higher education, and whether compromises in this regard align with the ethical fiber of higher education.

Barbara Hou is a doctoral student at the Harvard Graduate School of Education.