Feedback

"Our three toads were back from their traveling to the Sahara desert, and one of them said to another, 'Why were the camels wearing sandals?'

Other replied, 'To stop themselves sinking into the sand.'

The first toad said again, 'Why did the ostrich stick its head in the sand?'

The last toad replied, 'To look at the camels who forgot to put their sandals on,' Wulandari was talking about an event.

Wulandari then went on, "When a woman threw a shoe at Hillary Clinton, the US former secretary of state wasn't struck. The shoe whizzed over Clinton's head and landed with a loud clunk. At first she didn't realize what had happened. 'Is that a bat?' she asked. She then joked about it. 'Is that somebody throwing something at me? Is that part of Cirque de Soleil?' Clinton quipped.

It was said, the woman was protesting the U.S. government’s involvement in the mining and utilization of heavy metals, which she claimed are toxic and have harmed U.S. troops in Iraq and Afghanistan.

As we all know, sandals and shoes are footwear. Feet and footwear carry not only the weight of the body, but a great deal of symbolic, social, and cultural weight as well. How we view and treat the foot, the kinds of footwear that we wear, and how we view our footwear tell us a great deal about society and culture. Feet, both bare and shod, are linked to our ideas about gender, sexuality, class, and culture. Thus we can read, through the history of footwear in a given society, the evolution of that society’s ideas about men and women, about the working classes and the elites, and about work and leisure. Shoes and sandals, ultimately signify individual identity, group affiliation, and social position.

But I'm not going to talk about shoes or sandals or any other footwear here, but I'm wondering, whether the act of throwing the shoe is a feedback? And why feedback matters?

It’s easy to associate the word 'feedback' with formal experiences, like an annual performance review or a customer feedback survey. But actually, feedback is all around us, all the time. We get feedback from others, from our environment, even from our own observations and inner monologue. Giving and receiving feedback are dynamic experiences that shape and are shaped by our relationships and the context of the conversation.

We swim in an ocean of feedback. Lots and lots of feedback are queuing. We are confronted with the problems of our children who are in school, people who have lost their jobs or cannot get jobs because of foreign workers, lists of names filing for divorce, and many more.

Douglas Stone and Sheila Heen say that when people are asked to list their most difficult conversations, feedback always comes up. It doesn't matter who they are, where they are, or what they do, they describe just how tough it is to give honest feedback, even when they know it's sorely needed. Stone and Heen then tell us that when they give feedback, they notice that the receiver isn’t good at receiving it. When they receive feedback, they notice that the giver isn’t good at giving it.

What counts as feedback then? Feedback includes any information you get about yourself. In the broadest sense, it’s how we learn about ourselves from our experiences and from other people—how we learn from life. It’s your annual performance review, the firm’s climate survey, the local critic’s review of your restaurant. But feedback also includes the way your son’s eyes light up when he spots you in the audience and the way your friend surreptitiously slips off the sweater you knitted her the minute she thinks you’re out of view. It’s the steady renewal of services by a longtime client and the lecture you get from the cop on the side of the road. It’s what your bum knee is trying to tell you about your diminishing spryness, and the confusing mix of affection and disdain you get from your fifteen-year-old.

So feedback is not just what gets ranked; it’s what gets thanked, commented on, and invited back or dropped. Feedback can be formal or informal, direct or implicit; it can be blunt or baroque, totally obvious or so subtle that you’re not sure what it is.

Now, let's see a brief history about feedback. The term 'feed-back' was coined in the 1860s during the Industrial Revolution to describe the way that outputs of energy, momentum, or signals are returned to their point of origin in a mechanical system. By 1909 Nobel laureate Karl Braun was using the phrase to describe the coupling and loops between components of an electronic circuit. A decade later the new compound word 'feedback' was being used to describe the recirculating sound loop in an amplification system—that piercing squeal we all know from high school auditoriums and Jimi Hendrix recordings.

Sometime after World War II the term began to be used in industrial relations when talking about people and performance management. Feed corrective information back to the point of origin—that would be you, the employee—and voilà! Tighten up here, dial back there, and like some Dr. Seuss contraption, you’re all tuned up for optimum, star-bellied performance.

In today’s workplace, feedback plays a crucial role in developing talent, improving morale, aligning teams, solving problems, and boosting the bottom line. And yet. Fifty-five percent of respondents in one recent study said their performance review was unfair or inaccurate, and one in four employees dreads their performance review more than anything else in their working lives.

The news is no more encouraging on the manager’s side: Only 28 percent of HR professionals believe their managers focus on more than simply completing forms. Sixty-three percent of executives surveyed say that their biggest challenge to effective performance management is that their managers lack the courage and ability to have difficult feedback discussions.

Something isn’t working. So organizations are spending billions of dollars each year to train supervisors, managers, and leaders on how to give feedback more effectively. When feedback meets resistance or is rejected outright, feedback givers are encouraged to be persistent. They are taught how to push harder. It can be helpful. But if the receiver isn’t willing or able to absorb the feedback, then there’s only so far persistence or even skillful delivery can go.

Actually, feedback can be very powerful. Those who look for and accept it position themselves to be more competent and capable. Those who resist, reject, or avoid it, doom themselves to the limitations of their own personal insights—which may be right or wrong, but they will never know.

They fail to see the power in feedback. Without feedback we are flying blind. Others see things we can’t see. In performance assessments designed to measure individual effectiveness, it has been found that those who are the least effective at accurately predicting their strengths and weaknesses are the individuals themselves.

Most people do not feel they lack feedback from others on how they could improve their performance at work, how they could be a better parent, how they could be a more considerate and caring spouse or friend, or simply how they could become a better person. For many people, the typical reaction to new feedback is to say, 'So what, I’m too busy to do anything about it anyway.'

Meaningful feedback is central to what we do on the job and in other aspects of our lives. Feedback guides, motivates, and reinforces effective behaviors and reduces or stops ineffective behaviors. Feedback tells us how close we are to our goals. Similarly, giving feedback is an important way to guide others’ actions and decisions. Yet many people feel uncomfortable giving and receiving feedback. Indeed, the lack of feedback isn’t unusual.

Managers and supervisors may give feedback as a way to reinforce their self-importance or manipulate how others see them. Givers of feedback may be destructive or hurtful intentionally or unintentionally. In addition, they may be biased by factors such as race, gender, or age. Receivers of feedback may be apprehensive about being evaluated, defensive in the face of negative feedback, and/or apt to ignore information that could help them.

People often use negative terms when they observe and describe others, while they use positive terms to describe themselves. As a result, feedback may be disappointing and possibly detrimental. No feedback at all may be better in some cases. Feedback is not effective regardless of the content and manner in which it is given and regardless of the receiver’s sensitivity to the information.

Most people receive much more feedback than they are willing or able to implement. They receive feedback from many sources, including books, articles, friends, coworkers, bosses, spouses, and children. To cope with all this information, some stop listening; others become defensive. Some blame others, and others simply ignore or don’t understand the feedback.

A growing trend is to provide people with more and more performance feedback on their strengths and weaknesses. Companies institute performance appraisal processes with more feedback, including upward evaluations, 360-degree or four-way feedback, and peer evaluation systems. These companies hope to involve more people than just the boss in assessing a person’s performance. The idea behind the trend is the more information and feedback people receive, the more effective they will be.

Getting feedback from multiple sources is an effective way to discover the strengths and weaknesses in our performance. Feedback frequently helps us understand the attributes we would not otherwise notice, but which may be obvious to others. Although people are receiving more feedback, changes in their behavior do not seem to be taking place. As with antibiotics that are used too frequently, people quickly begin to build immunities to feedback and resist making changes.

Also, people who receive an abundance of helpful feedback early in their careers often find, later in their careers when they become managers, the feedback seems less open, honest, and straightforward, and more politically loaded. To help managers obtain more open and candid feedback, many organizations now ask employees to complete anonymous surveys for each manager at several key points: those who manage the manager, the manager’s peers, and those who report to the manager. But, although the feedback process has become an increasingly popular way to 'send the message,' frequently the people receiving the feedback still do not 'get the message,' nor do they change as a result of the process.

And finally, as a closing, in the land of Konohagakure, presidential candidates were invited to give feedback with students in a university. One of the candidates gave a spontan answer; the other, giving answers according to his strategy, diplomatically; and another one, quibbled. And Allah knows best."

From the distance, the Dawn approached with her shining golden chariot, brought a new habit, which, thus, changed the game. Wulandari had to leave, and she left while singing an excerpt from Chicago's song,

Want you to know, I'm a man

Say the words and I'll say it again

Want you to know, I'm a man you can depend upon

That's all I am 

Wanted to show, I'm a man

Say the words and I'll tell you again

Wanted to show, I'm a man you can rely upon

That's all I am

I am a man that you can count on

Call out my name and I'll be there *)

Citations & References:
- Douglas Stone & Sheila Heen, Thanks for the Feedback: The Science and Art of Receiving Feedback Well, 2014, Viking
- Joseph R. Folkman, The Power of Feedback, 2006, John Wiley & Son
- Manuel London, The Power of Feedback: Giving, Seeking, and Using Feedback for Performance Improvement, 2015, Routledge
- Margo DeMello, Feet & Footwear: A Cultural Encyclopedia, 2009, Greenwood Press
*) "Song for You" written by Justin Parker, Michael Milosh & Itai Shapira

Bahasa

The Three Toads (3)

"Our three toads went on with their talks, then it's about Light Rail Transit (LRT). One of them said, 'A man ran up to a farmhouse and pounded on the door. When the farmer came to the door, the man demanded, 'Are there any near LRT station from here?'

The farmer replied, 'Yes, but since there is no access to the station, you have to cut through my field.'

The man asked, 'What time is the next LRT to the city?'

The farmer informed, 'You should reach the station in time for the 5:20. But if my bull, which is grazing overthere, sees you, you’ll probably make it by 5:00.'"

Wulandari then went on, "Knowing that we have dignity and that it is always with us allows us to be more vulnerable with others, take risks, and speak the truth, says Donna Hicks. Vulnerability is where the truth lies. The more we can be honest and truthful, the less we violate our own and others’ dignity, and the more our relationships flourish. When we lose a firm hold on the belief of our inherent value, when we question our own worth, we are more likely to engage in face-saving behaviors that wreak havoc on relationships.

Not being aware of dignity’s inherent power also creates a problem for leadership. There is a crisis of leadership because people are looking outside of themselves for the next leader to emerge. If we are to consider ourselves a 'fountain of power,' we first need to know, intimately and confidently, that it exists within us. Dignity is the source of priceless power—it enables us to develop mutually beneficial connections to others and to create positive change in our relationships.

Managing our power wisely and honestly can happen only if we recognize the value and vulnerability of ourselves and others so that we do not abuse it. Educating ourselves about dignity is the first step. Knowing and accepting what lies within us will free us from a lot of needless suffering and allow us to live our lives fully.

Learning about dignity involves understanding the complex, often conflicted state of our inner worlds and the emotional challenges we face daily. There are lessons to be learned that can help us become better people, spouses, parents, and many kinds of leaders. These lessons can enable us to develop into the best versions of who we are.

The transformation that occurs with a consciousness of dignity helps us gain perspective—it allows us to take a step away from our usual point of view so we can better understand why we do what we do, why we feel the way we feel, and why we think the way we think. It is about more than learning—it is about developing ourselves in a way that makes us wiser rather than smarter. The consciousness that it brings enables us to see our blind spots

and ways in which we are held back from living life in full extension—expressing all of our talents, fulfilling deep connections with others, and engaging in a life that has meaning and purpose.

Hicks then sugests ten ways to avoid violating our own dignity and the dignity of others. First, don’t let the bad behavior of others determine your own behavior. Restraint is the better part of dignity. Don’t justify returning the harm when someone has harmed you. Do not do unto others as they do unto you. Second, don’t lie, cover up, or deceive yourself—tell the truth about what you have done. Third, when you have violated the dignity of others, admit that you have made a mistake and apologize for hurting them. Fourth, beware of the desire for external recognition of your dignity in the form of approval and praise. If we depend only on others for validation of our worth, we are seeking false dignity. Our dignity also comes from within. Fifth, don’t let your need for connection compromise your dignity. If we remain in a relationship in which our dignity is routinely violated, our need for connection has outweighed our need to maintain our own dignity. Sixth, don’t allow someone to violate your dignity without saying something. Stand up for yourself. Don’t avoid confrontation. A violation is a signal that there is something in the relationship that needs to change. Seventh, don’t assume you are an innocent victim in a troubled relationship. Open yourself to the idea that you might be contributing to the problem. You may not be aware of it. We need to be able to look at ourselves from an outside perspective so that we can see ourselves as others see us. Eighth, Don’t resist feedback from others. We often don’t know what we don’t know. We all have blind spots (undignified ways in which we unconsciously behave). We need to overcome our self-protective instincts that lead us to resist constructive criticism and instead consider feedback as a growth opportunity. Ninth, don’t blame and shame others in order to deflect your guilt. Control the urge to defend yourself by trying to make others look bad. Tenth, beware of the tendency to connect with others by gossiping about someone else. Being critical and judgmental about others when they are not present can feel like a bonding experience and makes for engaging conversation, but it is harmful and undignified. If you want to create intimacy with others, speak the truth about yourself—about what is really happening in your inner world—and invite the other person to do the same.

All of us, want to be respected, but respect has to be earned. It does not just come or automatically, for example because of position or nobility. Many simple ways to gain respect, such as to maintain your integrity. It's the cornerstone of earned respect; we don't respect anyone for making a promise, but he who keep it; offer respect by means of mespect those around you; the more you focus on adding value for others, the more respect you will get, give respect to get respect. A respected leader is a leader that people trust and admire typically because they have integrity, they care about their people and they get great things done on a consistent basis

Just like respect, trust has to be earned too. Without consciousness of dignity, it is more than likely that at some point resentment and distrust will prevail. Trust requires safety, and the one sure way to ensure that people feel safe is to treat them with dignity. For a leader, building a trust starts with creating a safe environment where people feel comfortable expressing themselves and taking risks. It means being transparent and authentic.

Perhaps most important, in the hands of a trusted leader, the people he keads are more comfortable with change and more willing to embrace a new vision. When your people doesn't trust you, you don't get their best effort. You'll then find yourself unable to inspire, influence, and create real change—an ineffective leader.

Research has shown that when people trust each other at work, because their relationships are strong, they are more committed to the organization and more willing to make a positive contribution. Other research has shown that interpersonal trust is necessary to the functioning of organizations and plays a role in determining whether they achieve their goals and objectives. Trust also helps build employee commitment and increases the reputation of the organization, as well as organizational performance.

In the practice of good leadership, trust is important. We all know intuitively that trust is necessary for authentic relationships, yet we also know how fragile it is and how easily it can be destroyed.

Hicks gives us a case of conflict between management and its employees. Five years earlier, a company had fallen on hard times and was nearly bankrupt. Everyone knew that the company was facing a fragile situation, and the employees were concerned not only for the viability of the company, but also for their jobs. Many of the employees had worked for the organization for decades and felt a tremendous loyalty to it. In a move of desperation, the management team asked its employees to help them avoid bankruptcy by taking pay cuts. They asked everyone to 'pull together and win together.' All agreed, and the company hobbled along for the next five years, avoiding the worst-case scenario.

Unexpectedly, the company started doing very well again, and it was clear that the 'pull together and win together' strategy had worked. But this is where the trouble began. The employees fully expected that when the company started doing well again, their pay would be restored. This did not happen. Moreover, the management team gave themselves big bonuses, arguing that it was a legitimate move and was in their contract. From the executives’ point of view, they did nothing wrong.

The outcry from the employees was immediate. They felt betrayed. What happened to 'pull together and win together'? They had given the leaders the benefit of the doubt, believing that if the company ever started doing better, they would do the right thing. The trust that the employees had felt for the management team during the crisis vanished. The workers felt exploited and violated in so many ways that it led to a complete breakdown in the relationship with the management team.

In addition to the betrayal of trust, the employees felt that their dignity had been violated in many ways. They were treated unfairly; it felt like a great injustice. They felt invisible—as if their identities didn’t matter. They were not being recognized or acknowledged for the contribution they had made to help the company survive. They no longer felt safe in their relationship with management. 'There’s no telling what they will do to us,' one work group reported. They felt excluded from the windfall the company experienced, but what bothered the employees the most was that the management didn’t want to talk about the bonuses, much less be held accountable for their actions. One worker summed it up this way, 'Management keeps saying that it was legal to take the bonuses—it was in their contract. Just because it’s legal doesn’t mean it’s right.'

You can see how nearly all the elements of dignity were compromised in one decision by the management team. The team’s silence and unwillingness to have a dialogue only made it worse. What were the chances that trust could be restored? Unfortunately, the executives were not willing to take any responsibility for their decision, which made it impossible for the relationships to be repaired. The company never recovered from the rift with its employees.

People expect their leaders and managers have a standar moral attitude. To maintain a good relationship with their followers, leaders need not only to be technically good at what they do, but also to demonstrate a commitment to do what is right for others. They say that leadership has an ethical dimension related to treating others well—to honoring their dignity. This ethical dimension is present when the relationship between leaders and those who follow them is the strongest and trust is at its highest. By contrast, trust is quickly lost when leaders stray from doing what is right.

The human reaction to a breakdown in trust is swift and automatic. It is part of our evolutionary legacy, passed down to us like a dominant gene. We are very quick to exclude others from our moral circle when we feel betrayed, especially by people we felt connected to and empathic toward. One neuroscientist explains that empathy and disgust are mediated in part by the same brain region. It makes sense, then, that a breakdown in a high level of empathy can elicit a very strong reaction of disgust. In the earlier story, the breakdown of trust and empathy was just one dignity violation away, and it was safe to say that when that violation happened, the employees were left with a feeling of disgust.

Paul Zak has studied trust and written extensively about the role it plays in creating a productive work environment. In an article he wrote for the Harvard Business Review, he reported that trust is good for business. Creating a culture of trust in an organization increases productivity, cooperation, discretionary energy, and employee retention. People report feeling happier and supported in an environment where stronger performance is nurtured. One of the findings of his research is that when people feel trust in someone, a brain chemical called oxytocin is produced. This chemical signals that a person is safe to approach. His research indicates that the more people trust others, the more their brains produce oxytocin. In another series of studies, he administered oxytocin (through a nasal spray) in subjects and found that those who were given the spray were twice as likely to act trusting toward a stranger as those who did not receive it. He also found that stress worked against trusting others. Finally, he reported that oxytocin increases empathy.

Daniel Goleman explains that one of the most gratifying human experiences is 'the experience of being experienced,' or what he calls mutual empathy.

He also tells us about our shared human experience—that we are wired to connect with others. The research shows that, because we are wired to connect, we are also keenly set to read the intentions of others and to empathize. Goleman defines empathy in three ways: knowing (cognitively understanding) what others are feeling; feeling (experiencing) what others are feeling; and responding compassionately (acting) to another’s distress. He sums it up this way, 'I notice you, I feel with you, and so I act to help you.'

What is remarkable about empathy is that, when we empathize with another, the brain activates the same neural pathway in each of us. Goleman explains, 'In other words, to understand what someone else experiences—to empathize—we utilize the same brain wiring that is active during our own experience. Our mirror neurons are in synch, allowing us to communicate without words. What’s on their mind occupies ours.'

He makes the point throughout that without empathy, relationships suffer. Empathy inhibits cruelty toward others. It has the power to silence the amygdala, the part of the brain that can trigger aggressive behavior. Without our capacity for empathy, the human experience of relationship would not be a natural source of comfort and safety, but potentially a source of threat and harm. Even though we are all born for love and empathy—we have the biological predisposition wired into our brains—there is no guarantee that we will develop it. Infants need the experience of love and attention to activate the capacity for empathy, and then they—and we—need it for the rest of our lives. Empathy requires lifelong caring and loving interactions with others. So, here we can find the connection between empathy and dignity, for what a powerful demonstration of love and caring, it is to honor each other’s dignity.

Anyone attempting to exercise leadership would be wise to include in her or his repertoire knowledge of what it takes to honor dignity. Although we are all born with dignity, we are not born knowing how to act in accordance with this truth.

We have evolved with the powerful need to be in relationship with others and the intense longing to be liked and loved that goes along with it. The default setting of our brains wants us to be engaged in thinking about others.

A fundamental aspect of what it means to be human, is so important. The emotional volatility associated with having our dignity honored or violated, cannot be overstated. When people feel that their value and worth are recognized in their relationships, they experience a sense of well-being that enables them to grow and flourish. If, in contrast, their dignity is routinely injured, relationships are experienced as a source of pain and suffering. For better or for worse, we will spend our entire lives motivated by social connection. Leaders who understand the power of treating people well, will see their people thrive, and they will thrive right along with them. Because when we honor others’ dignity, we strengthen our own. And Allah knows best."

It's time to go, Wulandari left as singing Benyamin Sueb's witty song,

Sang bango, eh sang bangau, kenape elu, elu delak-delok?

[Stork o strok, why did you look to and fro?]

Sang bangau, ngau, ngau, ngau, eh sang bango, kenape elu, elu delak-delok?

[Stork o strok, why did you look to and fro?]

Mengkenye aye, aye delak-delok, sang kodok, eh, kerak-kerok

[I looked to and fro, because toad was croaking]

Mengkenye aye, aye delak-delok, sang kodok, eh, kerak-kerok

[I looked to and fro, because toad was croaking]

Sang kodok, eh, eh, eh sang kodok, kenape elu, elu kerak-kerok?

[Toad o toad, why were you croaking?]

Sang kodok, eh, eh, eh sang kodok, kenape elu, elu kerak-kerok?

[Toad o toad, why were you croaking?]

Mangkenye aye, aye kerak-kerok, orang-orang, eh, pade ngorok

[I was croaking because all people were snoaring]

Mangkenye aye, aye kerak-kerok, orang-orang, eh, pade ngorok

[I was croaking because all people were snoaring]

Bang orang, eh, eh, eh bang orang, kenape elu, elu pade ngorok?

[People o people, why were you all snoaring?]

Bang orang, eh, eh, eh bang orang, kenape elu, elu pade ngorok?

[People o people, why were you all snoaring?]

Mangkenye aye, aye pade ngorok, sang kodok kerak-kerok

[We all are snoring because toad was croaking]

Mangkenye aye, aye pade ngorok, sang kodok, eh kerak-kerok

[We all are snoring because toad was croaking]

Sang kodok, eh, eh, eh sang kodok, kenape elu, elu, kerak-kerok?

[Toad o toad, why were you croaking?]

Sang kodok, eh, eh, eh sang kodok, kenape elu, elu, kerak-kerok?

[Toad o toad, why were you croaking?]

Mangkenye aye, aye kerak-kerok, bikin musik, lagunye house rock

[I was croaking because I was creating music, a house rock song]

Mangkenye aye, aye kerak-kerok, bikin musik, lagunye house rock **)

[I was croaking because I was creating music, a house rock song]

Citations & References:
- Adrienne Stone & Frederick Schauer (ed.), The Oxford Hanbook of Freedom of Speech, 2021, Oxford University Press
- Donna Hicks, Ph. D, Dignity: It's Essential Role in Resolving Conflict, 2021, Yale University Press
- Donna Hicks, Ph. D, Leading with Dignity, 2018, Yale University Press
- George Kateb, Human Dignity, 2011, Harvard University Press
- Robin S. Dillon, Dignity, Character and Self-Respect, 1995, Routledge
- B. F. Skinner, Beyond Freedom and Dignity, 1976, Penguin
*) "Jangkrik Genggong" written by Andjar Any
**) "Sang Bango" written by Benyamin Sueb

[Session 2]
[Session 1]

Bahasa

The Three Toads (2)

"Apparently, there weren't only three frogs in the narrow pond. There were many toads there, and they were piled on top of each other listening to the three toads relaxing. Suddenly, from behind the pots filled with cactuses, a little toad chimed in, 'I've heard about freedom of speech too. The story something like this, 'A television reporter interviewed an autocratic leader and asked, 'What about free speech in this country?'

'They are fine,' replied the dictator, 'freedom of speech has always been guaranteed in this country. It is freedom after speech which we can't guarantee,' the little toad concluded and went away.

One of our toad said to his colleagues, 'When I was learning English, my English teacher said this, 'Do you know why I hate cactuses?'

'No, I don't!' I replied.

Then he said, 'Because they are all pricks.'"

"Why should Human Dignity be defended? When did this idea appear?" Wulandari moved on. "The idea of Human Dignity has become commonplace, especially since the end of World War II, says George Kateb. In the name of human dignity, which turns out to mean in its most common use the equal dignity of every person, charters of human rights are promulgated, and appeals to it are made when people all over the world struggle to achieve their claimed rights. Human dignity is thus perceived to be the basis for human rights. But not much is said about what human dignity is and why it matters for the claim to rights. It almost seems as if the idea of human dignity is axiomatic, and therefore, requires no theoretical defense. All it needs is to be translated into established rights, which are then preserved in the face of attempts to keep people down and deny them what they are owed.

According to Aurel Kolnai, Dignity obviously should not be identified with Morality. To a large extent, it enters into the category of the aesthetical. An indefinite variety of objects plainly insusceptible of moral appraisal can none the less exhibit dignity. Nor is it possible, conversely, to interpret morality as a sub-class of dignity. Moral virtues as important as benevolence and diligence, or some forms of self-improvement , are not paradiginatically relevant to dignity.

Dignity is a quality; the concept of dignity is descriptive, though it also bears an essential and inseparable evaluative note. Rights are not qualities; their concept is not descriptive but prescriptive—ascriptive if you like, but their ascriptive is parasitic on their prescriptive sense. That rights ought to be respected is a tautology exactly like 'Duties ought to be complied with': they just consist in that they ought to be respected.

Dignity does not 'consist' in that it ought to be prized, praised, admired or revered. Disrespect of a right constitutes an offense; indifference to dignity is only a defect, as is any lack of adequate response to a value.

When people have to struggle to establish or preserve or reestablish their rights, they contend with various interests that are threatened by the demand for rights and that have many kinds of power to repel such assertions, but these antagonistic interests have little theory of any weight to sustain their cause—they have only tenacious privilege backed up by alarms, and by lingering popular prejudice, superstition, and mental inertness, and the cry of security against the enemy always ready to hand. It can be thought that whatever was the case some centuries ago, the defense of rights at present requires little theoretical articulation.

There is already a substantial theoretical literature in defense of rights. It begins in the revolutions in Britain in the seventeenth century, proceeds in revolutionary America and France in the latter part of the eighteenth century, continues in Kantian philosophy, and develops further in John Rawls’s infl uential political philosophy and Ronald Dworkin’s legal theory in the twentieth century. Add to all this work Western jurisprudence throughout. The truth is that the idea of human dignity fi gures in it only to a minor extent, if at all.

The core idea of human dignity is that on earth, humanity is the greatest type of beings—or what we call species, because we have learned to see humanity as one species in the animal kingdom, which is made up of many other species along with our own—and that every member deserves to be treated in a manner consonant with the high worth of the species.

The idea that humanity is special comes into play when species are compared to one another from an external and deindividualized (though of course only human) point of view, says Kateb. When we refer to the dignity of the human species, we could speak of the stature of the human race as distinguished from the status of individuals. In comparison to other species, humanity has a stature beyond comparison.

The reasons for speaking of individual dignity are the same as those for speaking of the dignity of the species: the same unique and nonnatural traits and attributes, characteristics, and capacities.

The historical record appears to indicate that thinking about humanity in relation to other categories of beings comes well before thinking about individuals as individuals. Affirmation of human stature, in one set of terms or another—the word stature rarely occurs—comes well before political and social concern for every person equally. Conceptually, human stature precedes individual status; the greatness of humanity precedes the equality of individuals. Starting with Homer, Western literature dwells on individuals, but they are mostly of the upper rank and they tend to matter, except to Socrates, not as individuals but as members of a class, or as defined by role or function. What counts is that the few at the top demonstrate what humanity at its best is capable of.

The concept of equal individual status is only part of the idea of human dignity; the other part is the stature of the human species. What is more, status is only part of the defense of the theory of human rights; the other part is the public morality of justice.

Human dignity is an existential value; value or worthiness is imputed to the identity of the person or the species. The idea of human dignity insists on recognizing the proper identity of individual or species; recognizing what a person is in relation to all other persons and what the species is in relation to all other species.

The truth of personal identity is at stake when any individual is treated as if he or she is not a human being like any other, and therefore treated as more or less than human. The truth of identity is also at stake when a person is treated as if he or she is just one more human being in a species, and not, instead, a unique individual who is irreplaceable and not exchangeable for another. These two notions seem to go in opposite directions—commonness and distinctiveness—but they cooperate in constituting the idea of equal individual status.

So, what is the relationship between 'Freedom' and 'Dignity'? Almost all living things act to free themselves from harmful contacts. A kind of freedom is achieved by the relatively simple forms of behaviour called reflexes, says B.F. Skinner. A person sneezes and frees his respiratory passages from irritating substances. He vomits and frees his stomach from indigestible or poisonous food. He pulls back his hand and frees it from a sharp or hot object. More elaborate forms of behaviour have similar effects. When confined, people struggle (‘in rage’) and break free. When in danger they flee from or attack its source. Behaviour of this kind presumably evolved because of its survival value; it is as much a part of what we call the human genetic endowment as breathing, sweating, or digesting food. And through conditioning similar behaviour may be acquired with respect to novel objects which could have played no role in evolution. These are no doubt minor instances of fhe struggle to be free, but they are significant. We do not attribute them to any love of freedom; they are simply forms of behaviour which have proved useful in reducing various threats to the individual and hence to the species in the course of evolution.

A much more important role is played by behaviour which weakens harmful stimuli in another way. It is not acquired in the form of conditioned reflexes, but as the product of a different process called operant conditioning. When a bit of behaviour is followed by a certain kind of consequence, it is more likely to occur again, and a consequence having this effect is called a reinforcer.

Food, for example, is a reinforcer to a hungry organism; anything the organism does that is followed by the receipt of food is more likely to be done again whenever the organism is hungry. Some stimuli are called negative reinforcers; any response which reduces the intensity of such a stimulus—or ends it—is more likely to be emitted when the stimulus recurs. Thus, if a person escapes from a hot sun when he moves under cover, he is more likely to move under cover when the sun is again hot. The reducetion in temperature reinforces the behaviour it is ‘contingent upon’ - that is, the behaviour it follows. Operant conditioning also occurs when a person simply avoids a hot sun—when, roughly speaking, he escapes from the threat of a hot sun. Negative reinforcers are called aversive in the sense that they are the things organisms ‘turn away from’.

Escape and avoidance play a much more important role in the struggle for freedom when the aversive conditions are generated by other people. Other people can be aversive without, so to speak, trying: they can be rude, dangerous, contagious, or annoying, and one escapes from them or avoids them accordingly.

A person escapes from or avoids aversive treatment by behaving in ways which reinforce those who treated him aversively until he did so, but he may escape in other ways. For example, he may simply move out of range. A person may escape from slavery, emigrate or defect from a government, desert from an army, become an apostate from a religion, play truant, leave home, or drop out of a culture as a hobo, hermit, or hippie. Such behaviour is as much a product of the aversive conditions as the behaviour the conditions were designed to evoke. The latter can be guaranteed only by sharpening the contingencies or by using stronger aversive stimuli.

Freedom is a ‘possession’. A person escapes from or destroys the power of a controller in order to feel free, and once he feels free and can do what he desires, no further action is recommended and none is prescribed by the literature of freedom, except perhaps eternal vigilance lest control be resumed.

Any evidence that a person’s behaviour may be attributed to external circumstances seems to threaten his dignity or worth. We are not inclined to give a person credit for achievements which are in fact due to forces over which he has no control.

Freedom is an issue raised by the aversive consequences of behaviour, but dignity concerns positive reinforcement. When someone behaves in a way we find reinforcing, we make him more likely to do so again by praising or commending him. We applaud a performer precisely to induce him to repeat his performance, as the expressions ‘Again!’ ‘Encore!’ and ‘Bis!’ indicate. We attest to the value of a person’s behaviour by patting him on the back, or saying ‘Good!’ or ‘Right!’ or giving him a ‘token of our esteem’ such as a prize, honour, or award.

The amount of credit a person receives is related in a curious way to the visibility of the causes of his behaviour. We withhold credit when the causes are conspicuous. We do not, for example, ordinarily commend a person for responding reflexly : we do not give him credit for coughing, sneezing, or vomiting even though the result may be valuable. For the same reason we do not give much credit for behaviour which is under conspicuous aversive control even though it may be useful. As Montaigne observed, ‘Whatever is enforced by command is more imputed to him who exacts than to him who performs.’ We do not commend the groveller even though he may be serving an important function.

We give credit generously when there are no obvious reasons for the behaviour. Love is somewhat more commendable when unrequited, and art, music, and literature when unappreciated. We give maximal credit when there are quite visible reasons for behaving differently—for example, when the lover is mistreated or the art, music, or literature suppressed. If we commend a person who puts duty before love, it is because the control exercised by love is easily identified.

We give credit generously when there are no obvious reasons for the behaviour. Love is somewhat more commendable when unrequited, and art, music, and literature when unappreciated. We give maximal credit when there are quite visible reasons for behaving differently—for example, when the lover is mistreated or the art, music, or literature suppressed. If we commend a person who puts duty before love, it is because the control exercised by love is easily identified.

We attempt to gain credit by disguising or concealing control. The television speaker or a politician gives his or her speech, uses a prompter which is out of sight, and the lecturer glances only surreptitiously at his notes, and both then appear to be speaking either from memory or extemporaneously, when they are in fact—and less commendably—reading. We try to gain credit by inventing less compelling reasons for our conduct. We ‘save face’ by attributing our behaviour to less visible or less powerful causes—by behaving, for example, as if we were not under threat.

When we are concerned with the credit to be given to others, we minimize the conspicuousness of the causes of their behaviour. We resort to gentle admonition rather than punishment because conditioned reinforcers are less conspicuous than unconditioned, and avoidance more commendable than escape. We give the student a hint rather than tell him the whole answer, which he will get credit for knowing if the hint suffices. We merely suggest or advise rather than give orders. We give permission to those who are going to behave in objectionable ways anyway.

We seem to be interested in judicious use when we call rewards and punishments just or unjust and fair or unfair. We are concerned with what a person ‘deserves’, or, as the dictionary puts it, what he is ‘rightfully worthy of, or fairly entitled to, or able to claim rightfully by virtue of action done or qualities displayed.’ Too generous a reward is more than is needed to maintain the behaviour. It is particularly unfair when nothing at all has been done to deserve it or when, in fact, what has been done deserves punishment. Too great a punishment is also unjust, especially when nothing has been done to deserve it or when a person has behaved well. Incommensurate consequences may cause trouble; good fortune often reinforces indolence, for example, and bad fortune often punishes industry.

We try to correct defective contingencies when we say that a man should ‘appreciate’ his good fortune. We mean that he should henceforth act in ways which would be fairly reinforced by what he has already received. We may hold, in fact, that a man can appreciate things only if he has worked for them. The etymology of ‘appreciate’ is significant: to appreciate the behaviour of a man is to put a price on it. ‘Esteem’ and ‘respect’ are related terms. We esteem behaviour in the sense of estimating the appropriateness of reinforcement. We respect simply by noticing. Thus, we respect a worthy opponent in the sense that we are alert to his strength. A man wins respect by gaining notice, and we have no respect for those who are ‘beneath our notice’. We no doubt particularly notice the things we esteem or appreciate, but in doing so we do not necessarily place a value on them.

Dignity not only explains an aspect of what it means to be human, but also is a hallmark of our shared humanity. Everyone wants to be treated in a way that shows they matter, says Donna Hicks.

Our universal yearning for dignity drives our species and defines us as human beings. It’s our highest common denominator, yet we know so little about it. It’s hard for people to articulate exactly what it is. What they do know is more like an intuition or a sixth sense. 'Yes, dignity is important,' people tell us, but they come up short when we ask them to put their intuition into words.

What people usually say is that dignity is respect. But, dignity is not the same as respect. Dignity, is an attribute that we are born with—it is our inherent value and worth. We were all born worthy.

Respect is different. Although everyone has dignity, not everyone deserves respect. Respect must be earned. If I say I respect someone, it is because he or she has done something that is extraordinary—gone the extra mile to deserve my admiration. The actions of that person inspire me. I say to myself, 'I want to be like that person.' Dignity is something we all deserve, no matter what we do. It is the starting point for the way we treat one another. To clear up any confusion, perhaps, it is imperative to respect each other’s dignity.

According to Donna Hicks, there ten elements of Dignity. Firstly, Acceptance of Identity. Approach people as being neither inferior nor superior to you; give others the freedom to express their authentic selves without fear of being negatively judged; interact without prejudice or bias, accepting that characteristics such as race, religion, gender, class, age, and disability are at the core of their identities.

Recognition. Validate others for their talents, hard work, thoughtfulness, and help; be generous with praise; give credit to others for their contributions, ideas, and experience.

Acknowledgment. Give people your full attention by listening, hearing, validating, and responding to their concerns and what they have been through.

Inclusion. Make others feel that they belong, at all levels of relationship (family, community, organization, and nation).

Safety. Put people at ease at two levels: physically, so they feel free from the possibility of bodily harm, and psychologically, so they feel free from concern about being shamed or humiliated and free to speak up without retribution.

Fairness. Treat people justly, with equality, and in an evenhanded way, according to agreed-on laws and rules.

Independence. Empower people to act on their own behalf so that they feel in control of their lives and experience a sense of hope and possibility.

Understanding. Believe that what others think matters; give them the chance to explain their perspectives and express their points of view; actively listen in order to understand them.

Benefit of the Doubt. Treat people as if they are trustworthy; start with the premise that others have good motives and are acting with integrity.

Accountability. Take responsibility for your actions; apologize if you have violated another person’s dignity; make a commitment to change hurtful behaviors.

We need to note that in this context, we are talking about humans, once again, humans, not institutions. And in the next session, we will discuss the benefits of Dignity in relation to one human being to another, bi 'idhnillah."

Afterwards, Wulandari sang Waljinah's satirical Keroncong,

Lelene mati digepuk

[The catfish was beaten to death]

Gepuk nganggo walesane

[Beaten with the fishing rod]

Suwe ora petuk, ati sido remuk

[It's been a long time not having met, my heart was broken]

Kepetuk mung suwarane

[Only to find his voice]

E ya-e ya-e

E ya-e ya-e ya-e ya-e

Jangkrik genggong ... jangkrik genggong

Luwih becik omomg-kosong *)

[It's better to talk nonsense]

[Session 3]
[Session 1]

Bahasa

The Three Toads (1)

Two toads, who had just returned from traveling the world, were talking about their experiences. One of them said, 'I met a Russian, he told me this, 'In America you have freedom of speech. You can stand in front of the White House and say, 'American President Sucks.' Well, in the past, when Russia was still in the form of the Soviet Union, you also had freedom of speech. You can stand in front of the Kremlin and say, 'American President Sucks.'

The other frog, replied, 'I've heard about it. It was heard like this, 'A Russian diplomat and an American diplomat are discussing the differences between their two systems. The American tries to make it easy for the Russian to understand the concept of free speech.

'Anytime I want', says the Yank, 'I can walk right up to the top of the steps at Capital Hill and yell, 'The President of America is a crook and a liar!' and no one will try to stop me.'

'Hah!, you are naive, my American friend! I,' says the Russian, 'can climb the steps to the very doors of the Kremlin, pound on the doors, allow the Red Guards to surround me, and yell as loud as I can, 'The President of America is a crook and a liar!' and no one will try to stop me,'

The last toad added, 'Unlike in America and Russia, in China, it was happenned that A liberal Western bourgeois bohemian met with a capitalist Chinese Maoist Communist in a bar. The Western liberal bragged to the Chinese communist that in her country, she had so much free speech that she could stream videos to millions of people on Twitter and Facebook of her denouncing her Western government as corrupt and evil.

The Chinese communist shook his head and retorted, 'That’s nothing. We have even more free speech in China than your decadent democracies. I can stream videos to hundreds of millions of people on Weibo and Tencent showing myself denouncing Western governments as corrupt and evil!!'" said Wulandari, after her light shone on a list of names, who were less on work, but wanted to get a public office.

"As ideals," Wulandari carried on, "free thought and free speech have roots in accounts by the historians Herodotus and Thucydides explaining the distinctiveness of fifth-century Athens, in the Socratic search for philosophic clarity and appreciation of the limits of understanding, in Euripides’ celebration of political participation and Aristotle’s recognition of the power of public opinion, in the efforts of Renaissance humanists such as Petrarch and Erasmus to liberate moral reasoning from scholastic formalism, in Machiavelli’s counsels of prudential rule, in notions of free conscience and inquisitive duty introduced by the Protestant Reformation, and in the scientific method’s systematization of open-ended knowledge seeking. However, for conceiving of the freedoms of speech and press as fundamental limiting principles of governance, the earliest argument that continues to be read today is John Milton’s Areopagitica of 1644.

Concerned about royalist propaganda and religious radicalism during the English Civil War, parliament instituted a requirement that all writings be approved before publication. This mimicking of the Crown censorship regime that had been in place for over a century-and-a-half distressed Milton, despite his otherwise strong support for the parliamentary side. He took up his pen and published a signed protest without getting approval, in proud defiance of the licensing requirement. He named it after an essay by an ancient Athenian critic of government.

Freedom of speech is a central commitment of political liberalism, a principle of positive constitutional law in virtually all modern constitutions and a principle of international human rights law. Although among the most widely agreed upon and celebrated legal and constitutional principles of modern times, it is also the source of enduring and intense disagreement. Chapter two of John Stuart Mill’s On Liberty—‘On the Liberty of Thought and Discussion’—is the best-known defence of free speech in the philosophical canon, says Christopher Macleod.

Mill’s argument for freedom of discussion draws on his conception of human beings and their place in the world. Human beings are, Mill claims, wholly part of the natural order—as such, the human mind, as well as body, is entirely governed according to the laws uncovered by scientific investigation. This vision of the mind as operating according to natural laws leads to a view under which our only means of interaction with the world is causal interaction. Insofar as we are able to come to know the world, Mill claims, we can do so only by being receptive to the world causally. As such, the possibility of substantive a priori knowledge is precluded, for all receptivity to the world takes place via the senses.

Our engagement with the world, to put this another way, is sensible. We can perhaps imagine beings capable of knowing elements of the world by direct and unmediated insight. Such creatures would know how things are without being affected. But we are not them. We could know the world by acts of pure reflection only ‘if we could know apriori that we must have been created capable of conceiving whatever is capable of existing: that the universe of thought and that of reality, the Microcosm and the Macrocosm (as they once were called) must have been framed in complete correspondence’. An assumption more destitute of evidence could scarcely be made, however. There is, for us, no knowledge cognizable by the mind’s inward light. As natural beings, our knowledge of how things are has at its foundation modes of interaction with the world which are themselves wholly natural.

As well as being sensible, our engagement with the world is also discursive. Thinking is conducted, Mill is clear, through and by the application of concepts—or, in terminology he prefers, ‘general names’. Our knowledge takes the form of understanding that things are in a certain way. A manner of engaging with the world which did not enable us to think of objects as possessing qualities ‘would not enable us to make a single assertion respecting them’. The claim that an object has a quality, however, is a relational claim: that this object is similar in some way to other objects. The only meaning of predicating a quality at all, is to affirm a resemblance. For us, such resemblances are not themselves sensed between objects, but involve thinking about what is delivered by sensation. Knowledge of the world, that is to say, involves sensation, but also interpretation. It is in this context that we must understand Mill’s claim that ‘all silencing of opinion is an assumption of infallibility’.

The argument from human fallibility is self-standing, and suffices on its own to establish what we might term the Freedom of Discussion Principle: that there should be no interference with the discussion of any opinion. For without unrestricted discussion, we cannot be confident that we have considered all of the available evidence or that our interpretation of the evidence is sound—and hence, we cannot take our beliefs to be justified. This argument, is bolstered by two further arguments. That an opinion should not be suppressed because it may be true, and that even if an opinion is false, or even if it is merely part of the truth, it should still be heard. Mill’s argument that even beliefs which are false should be heard draws on a quite specific conception of knowledge, based on observations about ‘the way in which truth ought to be held by human beings’.

So, why protect freedom of speech? Some contend that freedom of speech is essential to self-government, says William P Marshall. The citizenry must have access to information in order to exercise the franchise intelligently and hold their elected representatives accountable. Others argue that freedom of speech must be defended because it is a central aspect of personal autonomy and self-realization. Some, particularly in the international community, defend freedom of speech as an essential aspect of individual dignity.

The oldest rationale offered in support of freedom of speech, however, is the ‘search for truth’ justification. According to this rationale, protecting freedom of speech creates a marketplace of ideas in which truth ultimately prevails over falsity. Speech therefore must not be restricted, because to do so would inhibit this search for truth.

Despite its long-standing pedigree, however, the truth justification has been under sustained attack from a number of directions, so much so that at least one commentator has described it as being ‘on the wane’. Further, and perhaps relatedly, the idea of truth itself also seems to have become a concept with less and less currency in an increasingly polarized world. That some would still consider the search for truth to be a primary justification for freedom of expression might be considered by others as hopelessly misguided and naïve.

The truth justification, however, has its defenders. The concept of truth has long held sway over the human imagination, and the explanatory power of truth as a guide for human conduct continues to resonate. The question of whether the truth justification remains a valid rationale for supporting freedom of speech is, therefore, an open inquiry.

The term ‘freedom of expression’ can be include free speech, freedom of the press, the right to petition government, and freedom of political association. There is relationship between freedom of expression and democracy from both a historical and a theoretical perspective.

Even before democratic forms of government took root in the modern world in the late eighteenth century, proponents of popular government had long offered democratic justifications for freedom of expression, according to Ashutosh Bhagwat and James Weinstein. During the English Civil War in the middle of the seventeenth century, the Levellers, a group of Puritans who advocated expansive manhood suffrage, invoked popular sovereignty as a reason for freedom of expression on public matters. In 1670, the Jewish-Dutch philosopher Baruch Spinoza reasoned that because in a ‘democratic state’ every collective decision is open to revision in case the people ‘should find a better course’, it follows that everyone should be ‘allowed to think what they wish and to say what they think’. In the 1720s, reflecting the Radical English Whig argument in favour of popular rather than parliamentary sovereignty, John Trenchard and Thomas Gordon, writing as Cato, defended a robust right to criticize public officials. Cato’s essays were enormously influential in the American colonies when first published. They continued to be widely read in America when, at the end of the eighteenth century, Americans adopted a constitution whose opening words, ‘We the People’, established a government based on popular sovereignty, and which shortly thereafter was amended to protect freedom of expression.

Democracy literally means ‘rule by the people’, combining the Greek words demos (‘the people’) and kratein (‘to rule’). Contemporary democracies come in many varieties, each coloured by its particular culture and history. Despite these differences, a common denominator of all contemporary democracies is a practical, if not always formal, commitment to popular sovereignty—a state of affairs in which the people exercise ultimate control over their government. Another basic precept of every contemporary democracy is formal political equality of every citizen. A necessary component of each of these two basic democratic norms is freedom of political expression.

Popular sovereignty requires that ‘ultimate political power resides in the population at large, that the people as a body are sovereign, and that they, either directly or through their elected representatives in a significant sense actually control the operation of government’. The most obvious and direct way that the people exercise control over their government is through voting, either by electing representatives, or by directly voting on laws or policies through ballot measures such as referenda, initiatives, and recall. Because the right to vote is so crucial to popular control of government, a society entirely lacking the franchise is plainly not a democracy. The directness of this control, however, tends to obscure a less direct, yet equally essential, prerequisite of modern democracy: the right of the people to speak freely about collective decisions within the purview of the people’s ultimate sovereignty, that is, on matters of public concern.

The primary mechanism through which freedom of expression in a democracy controls government is public opinion. The right of the people to speak freely on matters of public concern is, in turn, essential to the formation of the public opinion by which the people control the government. This is because government propaganda and statements by government officials also affect public opinion. If the people cannot freely express their views on public matters, then public opinion will largely reflect the views of government officials and thus be an ineffective means of popular control of government.

Freedom of speech has been part of modern constitutionalism since its beginnings in the last quarter of the eighteenth century. Some authors assume that every fundamental right has a dignity core so that also freedom of speech might be regarded as a concretization of dignity.

Human dignity as a constitutional guarantee is new. It is a post–World War II element of constitutionalism. Apparently, it needed the atrocities of totalitarian systems like Hitler’s Germany and Stalin’s Soviet Union and the tremendous human costs of World War II to create the feeling that something more than a number of individual rights was necessary to protect the human being, a foundational norm on which the various rights could be grounded and from which they derived their meaning.

In the next session, we'll talk about 'Human Dignity', bi 'idhnillah."

[Session 2]

Bahasa