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The Psychology and Ethics of Conflict Resolution

By Dr. Hal S. Bertilson, January 23, 2005

In November the UW-Superior Chancellor's Mediation Task Force asked me to do one of the faculty/staff mini-training workshops on conflict resolution this March. 

 

In December Karen called to say that the Worship Committee had been trying to find a time for me to do a sermon this spring.  There was a cancellation and would I do the sermon on January 23rd.   Once I agreed, I learned that the deadline for the Newsletter was that day.  What title should the newsletter list for my sermon?

 

Thinking about Mediation Task Force assignment, the courses I teach on Social Psychology and Peace Psychology, and my recent reading of work by Sharon Welch on the Feminist Ethic of Risk and Mary Brabeck’s Practicing Feminist Ethics in Psychology I told Karen the title would be “The Psychology and Ethics of Conflict Resolution.

 

At the January meeting of our First Unitarian Church Peace and Justice Committee, Sue Dailey reminded me of articles in the January/February issue of UU World.  Some of you may have read Our Power Problem and Against Innocence.

 

My daughter's January 10th sermon at the Greater Lansing Unitarian Church began with an opening statement that "It's not that I'm bad at titling sermons.  It's just that the title should come afterwards, when you've written it all down.  Then you can sum it up in a single word or phrase.  You can identify it, name it, and understand its limits.   There is this tradition of putting sermon titles in the newsletter, way before I've written a word, as if somehow the title of the sermon is going to give you a clue about the content of worship.  I imagine, so you can decide whether or not you want to bother to come to church that week."

 

It's backwards, though.  Because church is more than coming to hear the sermon.  And you've all had the experience, I imagine, of coming to church expecting one topic (probably because of that darn title in the newsletter) and being disappointed because it wasn't about what you thought it would be about afterall.

 

There is much more to coming to church than the subject matter of the sermon.  – it is sharing in a common experience with others that somehow brings order to our lives by connecting us with something larger than ourselves.  For some, that is named God, for others, it is simply the Larger Life which we share.

 

Actually, in the olden days, rather than a preview of the coming sermon, there would appear a summary of the sermon in the newspaper.  Someone would take notes on what Ralph Waldo Emerson said, and then report on it after the fact.  After the fact. 

 

I felt the same way.  I submitted the title to our First Unitarian Church of Duluth Newsletter in December, but I didn't know I was going to say until this morning.  Well.  I have been thinking about it and doing some reading.  But I didn't write anything down until yesterday.

 

I use a book by Jeffrey Rubin, Dean Pruitt, and Sung Hee Kim titled Social Conflict: Escalation, Stalemate, and Settlement to teach about conflict resolution.  In that book they conceptualize three classes of strategies: Contending, problem solving, and yielding.  Contending refers to any effort to resolve a conflict on our terms without regard to the other person (or groups) concerns.  Problem solving entails efforts to identify the issues dividing the parties and to develop and move toward a solution that appeals to both sides.  Yielding involves lowering one's aspirations, not necessarily capitulating (p. 28). 

 

According to these authors, contending can include ingratiation, gamemanship, guilt trips, persuasive argumentation, and threats (p. 47-67).   Using contending has always felt uncomfortable to me.  Perhaps some of you also find contending to be uncomfortable. 

 

Let's examine further one of these strategies, the use of threats.  What are some of the advantages of threats? 

 

First, a threat that works costs the Party nothing.  Consider, for example, the tragedy that swept through the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas in the winter of 1993.  Perhaps if the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms (ATF) had first threatened cult leader David Koresh with the use of tear gas instead of launching a surprise attach, the ATF might have achieved their objective with less tragic results.

 

Second threats are often highly effective; their value has been demonstrated repeatedly and consistently.  Threateners seem powerful because their messages provide information about what is likely to happen.

 

The most serious problem with the use of threats is that they tend to elicit similar behavior from the other side. Threats can lead to counterthreats and an escalation of the controversy.  Despite this disadvantage, threats are used because they are cheap, they often seem justified, and they may appear to be the only tactic that will work” (61-62).

 

One type of threats is the" if-then" message, assertions by a party in the following form: if you do (don't do) X, then I will punish you. 

 

But there is another type of threat.  This is the irrevocable commitment.  I have started doing something that requires adjustment from you and [I] will continue doing it despite your best efforts to stop me.  The party guarantees to continue behaving in a certain way, and the coercive commitment that has been made appears to be an irrevocable one. 

 

An illustration of an irrevocable commitment is the basic tactics of nonviolent resistance.  For example the Mohandas Gandhi fasts in order to secure concessions from the British forces that occupied India, the boycotts and sit-down strikes by courageous African Americans in the south of the 1950s and early 1960s, and the refusal to register for the draft as a means to protest a national war effort.  Although many of us admire the courage, determination, and moral conviction that characterize such examples of nonviolent resistance, we must not lose sight of the essentially contentious tactics at work, which are designed to prevail in an intensely conflictual exchange (63).

 

The Unitarian Universalist Association has two seminaries.  Meadville Lombard is the seminary at the University of Chicago and the one my daughter attended.  It holds a Winter Institute each February in Madison through the University of Wisconsin extension.  This year the topic is Stardust and Sustainability: The Great Story of Science and Religion.  It will be held in Madison on February 17-19.  It is the 14 billion year narrative of cosmos, Earth, life, and humanity.  It draws upon the discoveries of the full range of sciences and becomes our collective sacred story.  Consider attending.  It will be well worth your time.

 

Last year the speaker was Sharon Welch, Professor of Religious Studies, Women's Studies, and Muticultural Education at the University of Missouri-Columbia.  I was fortunate enough to attend with my daughter.  Sharon was speaking at this Institute on new paradigms for global ethics and global citizenship and drew heavily on the work of Gandhi. 

 

In Sharon Welch's (2000) book A Feminist Ethic of Risk she asks How do we know what to do, and what counts as doing something in response to injustice?  She argues that It is difficult for us to imagine effective alternative responses to humanitarian crises because, as a culture, we are shaped by an ethic of control-the assumption that effective action is unambiguous, unilateral, and decisive (25).  This need to find unambiguous and decisive action is greatly complicated, she argues, because . . . all of the participants in a conflict are flawed.  There is no simple division between good and evil.  While there may be at the moment considerably more violence by one party than another, all parties involved will face the threat of succumbing to revenge.  Moreover, all are threatened with the delusion of confusing self-interests with moral purity or the good of the whole.  Peacekeeping forces themselves, for example, need to be monitored and stopped from committing atrocities (27).  The Sudan is only one of the most recent examples. 

 

My daughter, Kathryn, gave me Sharon Welch's (1999) book Sweet Dreams in America: Making Ethics and Spirituality Work for my 65th birthday four-and-one-half years ago.  In it Welch argues that the ambiguity and uncertainty about the merits of our actions must not lead to paralysis.  She argues that . . . ethical power consists not in ridding ourselves of this proclivity for harm, illusion, and error, but rather in the creative working within the matrix of human lives that are always conditioned historically and subject to fault and short-sightedness (xx).

 

In this context she argues for an integration of spirituality and political work-a nontheistic yet ecstatic and mystical humanism.  Ecstatic religious experience, the phenomenon of group cohesion, of being buoyed and supported by others, by forces larger than oneself, is both an essential component of sustained work for justice and fundamentally amoral.  The sharing in a common experience with others that connects us with something larger than ourselves that I referred to in the introduction to this sermon, while important for many reasons, is amoral. 

 

Amoral because the experience of transcendence is not foundational.  Welch elaborates this point when she says It is an experience of creativity, connection, and energy that is as likely to be evoked by the Religious Right and by the Klan, as by politically progressive religious groups.  The sense of religious ecstasy in each is the same: the sense of being energized, of being connected with forces outside oneself.  The fact that a group feels a tremendous surge of vitality says nothing about either the truth or its claims about reality or the legitimacy of its projects for cultural and community formation (xxii). 

 

Dietrich Bonhoeffer gives us a good case study of resistance, ethics, courage, and weakness.  He was an upper-class German pastor who opposed Hitler and encouraged other Christians and gentiles to do the same. . .He helped Jews escape from Germany, and was part of the group of high-ranking military officers who tried to assassinate Hitler, stage a coup, and defeat and replace fascism.  While in prison on charges of helping Jews escape, two of the planned assassination attempts failed, his role in the plot was discovered, and he was executed in April 1945.

 

Bonhoeffer was an activist, a pastor, and a scholar.  His letters from prison have been published, and he wrote on ethics and religion and society before his arrest.  In his writings he tried to understand why so many good, decent, German Christians supported Hitler and/or refused to become involved in the resistance.  Christianity had a tradition that should have led to massive resistance—a tradition shaped by absolutes, by universal claims based not just on human reasoning, but also purportedly on divine revelation.  In Christianity, the idea of divine authority should have led many Christians, and not just the few members of the Confessing church, to affirm the Lordship of Christ over and against the authority of Hitler and the Third Reich. . . .

 

“What vitiated these absolutes?  One factor was the effectiveness of Nazi propaganda, exacerbating the demonizing of Jews that was already part of Christian anti-Semitism . . . Bonhoeffer argued, however, that most Christians were not persuaded by Nazi propaganda.  They knew what was happening to the Jews and they knew it was wrong.  Given adequate knowledge and adeaquate moral evaluation of the knowledge, why did 99 percent either stand by or participate in dehumanization and murder?  Bonhoeffer's answer: Folly, and fear of moral ambiguity.

 

Bonhoefer defined folly as capitulation in the face of overweening power.  Knowing the brutalization and murder of Jews was wrong, knowing these horrors should be stopped, many were paralyzed by the power of Nazism, unable to imagine and carry out any forms of resistance.  This paralysis was aggravated by what Bonhoeffer identified as an excessive sense of scruples-trying to remain morally pure while resisting evil. . .,

 

“Why, then, the failure to act? According to Bonhoeffer, the failure to act came from a fear of moral ambiguity.  The moral ambiguity that characterized resistance was manifold.  Any resistance was partial, its likely effects paltry, incommensurate with the outrages of genocide.  Any attempt would save so few lives and there were so many lives being lost.  There was also the ambiguity of not being able to predict the consequences of one's actions:  would they be successful, would they bring harm to oneself and to one's family?  

 

“Bonhoeffer highlighted a third aspect of moral ambiguity of resistance: resisting fascism required acting in ways that were themselves immoral.  To be moral, to save Jews, required lying and deception, it required breaking the law; it might even lead, as it did in the case of Bonhoeffer, to the plan to murder Hitler. . .

 

Here lies Sharon Welsh's crucial point.  “We can take ambiguity seriously, making a best choice, and then being willing to accept the consequences of that choice.  Basically, we become ready to clean up after ourselves, to reevaluate actions, all with the style of humor and openness to failure.  The key here is not being paralyzed by either moral failure or by political actions that are ineffective.  We can accept that we can only do our best, with a style of not expecting perfection or saintliness from ourselves and others.

 

We can accept failure without a sense of humility, shame, or self-abnegation.  We act, rather, in light of a basic recognition that we all make errors in judgment, we all find ourselves driven by pettiness, jealousy, and power  (121-124) . .

 

And now to put a point on the theme.  The article Our Power Problem” in the January/February UU World begins by asserting that “Unitarian Universalists tend to be anxious about power, anxious not only about being subject to it but also about wielding it.  We're better known for questioning authority than for having authority . . .

 

The Christian Right's highly organized political efforts made a difference in the election out of proportion to its numbers.  Bill Sinkford was quoted in this article as saying There is a reason the voice of the fundamentalist religious right seems so often to be the only religious voice in the public square.  We religious liberals have allowed it.  Until very recently, our silence has been deafening.  We have allowed them to make exclusive use of religious language, we have watched while they organized and fundraised, we have witnessed their increasing influence.

 

“President Sinkford believes UUs have a distinctive mission. Our power is, and will be, to frame voter registration and other issues as religious issues, and to prevent the fundamentalist religious right from claiming sole occupancy of the moral high ground.  He urges congregations to link their advocacy work to their congregational life (22-24). 

 

Let us act on the 6th principle: "The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all" (Frost, 1998). During the coffee hour I challenge you to discuss with each other how we UUs use our power for the greater good. 

 

Amen

 

References

 

Brabeck, M. M. (Ed., 2000). Practicing feminist ethics in psychology. Washington, D.C.: American Psychological Association.

Frost, E. A. (1998).  With purpose and principle: Essays about the seven principles of Unitarian Universalism.  Boston: Skinner House Books. 

Rubin, J. Z., Pruitt, D. G., & Kim, S. H. (1994). Social conflict: Escalation, stalemate, and settlement.  New York: McGraw-Hill.

Welch, S. D. (1999). Sweet dreams in America: Making ethics and spirituality work.  New York: Routledge.

Welch, S. D. (2000). A feminist ethic of risk.  Minneapolis: Fortress Press.