Politicians Need a Little More "Ignorance"

Imagine you're part of an elite group selected to shape America's code of ethics. You have the power to determine which laws and institutions are right and which are wrong, which people end up being treated well and which poorly. There's only one catch: before beginning, you must leave your personal identity at the door, so as not to bias the decision-making process. Rich, poor, sick, healthy, male, female, urban, rural -- for all you know, "you" might be anyone, with any combination of traits.

Which moral principles would you propose in this unique situation? If the possibility existed that you might be the most destitute member of society, what types of laws would you enact?

These were the questions posed by John Rawls, the 20th-century American political philosopher who invented the thought-experiment described above. Popularly known as the Veil of Ignorance, it offers a useful way of thinking about how we treat one another. When we place the veil over our eyes and distance ourselves from our individual identities and self-interests, we're essentially forced to view morality through the eyes of every demographic, including the least fortunate.

It's a simple exercise, one that I believe all of us should conduct every now and then. Regardless of our position in society, we must repeatedly force ourselves to take the proverbial walk in someone else's shoes. Most people would likely agree with me. Why, then, are our public officials so wary of putting on the veil?

It seems rare to find local and federal laws that truly have the poor's interests at heart. In fact, what strikes me as especially odd (not to mention disheartening) is that even when our country's political leaders attempt to ignore their positions of privilege and picture a better America through the eyes of others, they seldom look further than the middle class. Shortly before President Obama's State of the Union address, he announced a list of initiatives developed by the aptly-named Middle Class Task Force chaired by Vice President Biden. The goal of these initiatives? To "keep on fighting for what matters to middle-class families," like education, clean energy, consumer protections and health care reform.

I don't take issue with the President's initiatives; in fact, I applaud his administration's gusto in tackling pervasive problems that afflict key sectors of the economy, like education and finance. What frustrates me is watching his administration, like so many before it, focus its attention on the middle class while the poorest Americans -- the ones who were poor before the financial collapse and subsequent recession -- go unnoticed once again.

Yes, the middle class is struggling through the recession, relinquishing luxuries and making "tough decisions," as President Obama remarked in his State of the Union speech last week. And yes, those lower-middle class families that were barely scraping by a few years ago are currently driving the much-discussed half percent increase in Americans living below the poverty line, generating substantial media coverage along the way. But what about the long-time homeless, the "invisible" poor, the 12.5 percent of Americans already living in poverty before the start of the Great Recession? Their stories may not get the most viewers on prime time news programs (after all, they might not have TVs to watch on), but that doesn't mean their their lives and struggles shouldn't matter when creating public policy.

So here's my word of advice to politicians around the country: muster up some courage and compassion, and slip that veil over your eyes. You might be surprised at how it changes your view.

Photo credit: Emery Way