Is identity reallly such a bad thing?

A good way to understand the belief-fatigue in a post-modern culture is to watch the film Downfall (must-viewing for non-Germans considering ministry in Germany). Downfall depicts the last week of Hitler's life in the famous Berlin bunker, based on the memoirs of his personal secretary (who only died very recently). The film is not so much about the monstrous nature of Nazism (though it does not attempt to cover its monstrous nature), but a dark depiction of men and women holding on to their faith in a dark man and a dark system to the very end.

Among many painfully memorable scenes is one about two Nazi youths, a boy and a girl (perhaps 15 or so), who fight nearby in the trenches against the Soviets. There are few soldiers left, so old men and children are defending Berlin. When it is clear that the Soviet army would overrun the city, the two youths commit suicide. The girl has the boy shoot her as she raises her arm in a final Nazi salute. The boy then shoots himself in the head.

The lesson that many in Europe seemed to take from the war is that belief is not safe. The Nazis bunkered in Berlin died for their faith. People fought wars because they believed in things: their nations, Nazism, Communism, Capitalism, their interpretation of civilization or religion. The post-moderns concluded that in order to preserve peace, we should avoid commitment to any such meta-narrative.

This stands in contrast to the American lessons of World War II. It seemed like belief in country and the righteousness of our cause enabled our eventual victory. Unlike Europe, we walked away stronger. Americans had a strong sense of identity, and most saw nothing wrong with a strong religious or political identity.

That might be starting to change. Strongly identifying with with a country or party or faith is starting to look more and more unappealing. Perhaps September 11 and Islamist terrorism have something to do with it. Perhaps it was President Bush, whose strong religious and national identity helped him get elected, but whose politics from Iraq to New Orleans to the economy has made such identity look foolish. Perhaps ideological bickering among our leaders makes no sense in the wake of an economic crisis. There are likely more positive reasons as well. The rise of mass communication and travel exposes us to more points of view that may challenge the identities we once have. Many of us are tired of it. Paul Graham, observing fruitless religious and political arguments online, is too.

One of Brian's "daily dozens" a couple weeks ago included a Paul Graham essay arguing that we should avoid identity as much as possible.

His begins with observing the seemingly inevitable breakdown of civility when religion comes up on an online forum. He observes, "no thread on Javascript will grow as fast as one about religion, because people feel they have to be over some threshold of expertise to post a comment on that." Mr. Graham goes on to make the same point about politics.

I mostly disagree with this statement. The Internet surely attracts its share of loudmouths for whom anonymity frees to post whatever they want. But the problem with religion and politics is not one of expertise. Indeed, religion and politics are "for the people." Many of us have attended a religious education class every Saturday or Sunday (or Friday) since childhood. We have been educated in civics, politics and history. Perhaps I can be forgiven for thinking that Javascript has less dimensions that these subjects.

Nonetheless, I feel no small amount of sympathy for avoiding identity. I hate being identified with anything undesirable or foolish. I live in the epicenter of American politics, and I have good friends working on Capitol Hill (for both parties) and in the administration. Many are intelligent and passionate. I am often reluctant to plainly state the few political views I do have. When conversations turn to political discussions, I often fear I don't have enough factual information in my arsenal than those working in political think-tanks with information and experts at their finger-tips. Moreover, I hate being boxed in or pegged down. (I pointed this out to my boss in Germany one time as we were going over my Myers-Briggs results. He said that is a typical response from my personality type)

Like Mr. Graham, presumably, I have a strong distaste for "talk-radio" style political or religious discussion, with all its labeling and appeal to anger and hate. But Graham takes it too far. "People can never have a fruitful argument about something that's part of their identity," he writes. Later he says, "More generally, you can have a fruitful discussion about a topic only if it doesn't engage the identities of any of the participants."

Is this where identity necessarily leads? Idea dodge ball with no end in the best cases? War and terrorism in the worst?

Like, I said, I have a lot of sympathy for post-modern identity-fatigue. I despise fruitless discussion, and I certainly fear terrorists and ideologue politicians. But history has too many examples of people whose very identities played a role for the good. We cannot seriously ignore this. Of less importance, my life has been filled with fruitful, challenging conversations about subjects that all participants identified with.

Mr. Graham's conclusion causes me to wonder about his choice of friends. Do none of them have strong identities, religious, political or otherwise? Has he never once had a fruitful conversation about these issues with them? I worked in Christian ministry in Germany. Essentially, it means I have a strong religious identity, and it was once my profession to talk with others about it (something I still enjoy doing, though I have less context these days). I challenged many identities, and many people were perfectly willing to challenge mine. At the moment, I can think of only once where the conversation was unfruitful due to identity, and the person in question seemed all wrapped up in being unaffiliated. Before my stint in Germany, I went to college. I had all sorts of conversations, both fruitful and fruitless, about religion, politics, you name it. Has Mr. Graham ever taken a philosophy class? Was there not one person in the class who identified with a certain philosophy who could engage in fruitful conversation about it?

Let's move to history. Think of people who really worked for the good in history. Francis of Assisi. William Wilberforce. Abraham Lincoln. Mahatma Gandhi. Martin Luther King. Mother Theresa. These were persons of strong identities, whose identities helped them undertake monumental tasks for positive change. Their identities did not lead to stupidity. Their identities led them to a kind of courage too few of us have.

I think the problem is not identity, but of maturity. The Apostle Paul speaks of this when he warns the Romans of "zeal without knowledge." I would argue that this knowledge includes an understanding and appreciation for basic morality - the golden rule, found at least paraphrased in most religious school of thought: "do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Zeal without knowledge is behind many violent acts, religious wars especially. Zeal without knowledge remains popular because it is politically useful and makes good television. Talk radio tends to wind it up, and the Internet allows us to express our zeal about anything without taking time to learn and appreciate. Maturity takes time and process and work, whether one is learning javascript or theology.

Perhaps Spiritual maturity would help here as well. Paul again teaches that the Holy Spirit provides this. The fruit of the Spirit, writes Paul to the Galatians, "is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control." It's disheartening that the loudest of Christians often posses so little of this. But I know I want to identify with the fruit Paul describes.

So, if we want to avoid being dumb (or fanatical or violent), we can keep our identities as small as possible, as Paul Graham suggests. Or, we can have strong identities, but commit to maturity.