[Congressional Record Volume 140, Number 111 (Thursday, August 11, 1994)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Page E]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Printing Office [www.gpo.gov]


[Congressional Record: August 11, 1994]
From the Congressional Record Online via GPO Access [wais.access.gpo.gov]

 
                     A GREAT ``UNDELIVERED''SPEECH

                                 ______


                       HON. GEORGE E. BROWN, JR.

                             of california

                    in the house of representatives

                       Thursday, August 11, 1994

  Mr. BROWN of California. Mr. Speaker, President Clinton was invited 
to be the featured speaker at UCLA's 75th Anniversary Convocation on 
May 20 of this year. In the event that the President might have to 
cancel at the last minute, the planners of the anniversary festivities 
had invited Harold Shapiro, president of Princeton University, to 
prepare and be ready to deliver a stand-in address.
  President Clinton came to UCLA and gave an inspiring talk that was 
well received. We are, however, also lucky to have the insightful but 
``undelivered'' remarks of Harold Shapiro. In his speech entitled, 
``Creating A Future,'' Shapiro makes us reflect on the universal 
unwillingness to welcome the messengers of change and embrace their 
message. He reminds us of the importance of reexamining our goals, and 
of the need to search for new solutions to old problems. I commend 
these remarks to all of my colleagues.

                           Creating a Future

         ``I've got to be moving along . . .'' (Woodie Guthrie)

       It is with some considerable trepidation that I rise to 
     speak--yet once more--to this distinguished assembly. 
     Although I had some forewarning that I might be asked to 
     speak in President Clinton's stead, you did not! While I am 
     honored to assume this role, I am acutely sensitive to the 
     fact that I'm not really the speaker you were hoping to hear! 
     Moreover, I can hardly disguise that fact that my speaking 
     skills haven't been honed by innumerable campaign stops, 
     electronic town meetings, or even MTV! How can a humble 
     scholar even begin to step into the shoes of his nation's 
     leader? What would President Clinton have said on this 
     occasion?
       Surely he would have congratulated the faculty and students 
     of UCLA, the Regents of the University of California, and the 
     citizens of the state of California for the many 
     contributions they have made to the world of education and 
     scholarship and to our nation. What, however, would the 
     President have said next? How could I approach this large 
     assignment? It was clear to me that I needed some inspiration 
     from somewhere!
       First, I decided that perhaps I could prepare myself for 
     the awesome task of filing the President's shoes by rising at 
     dawn and taking a morning jog, and supplementing my usual 
     ``California'' breakfast of yogurt and granola with some Egg 
     McMuffins--and fries--and, to get in the swing of things, a 
     Whopper--also with fries. Fulfilling as this gastronomic 
     approach was, I decided I had to look elsewhere for 
     inspiration. I hit upon the perfect academic solution to the 
     problem of how to speak in the place and the voice of a 
     speaker who's much better known. Let me explain.
       Recently, I was reading with the students in my Freshman 
     Seminar the Apology of Socrates. Now, I'm sure you will all 
     read that the Apology (which was Socrates' speech of self-
     defense before the jurors when he was put on trail in Athens) 
     was in fact not written by Socrates. What has come down to 
     us, instead, is a speech written by Socrates' pupil, Plato. 
     So, it occurred to me that what I'm actually confronted with 
     here today is a kind of Platonic task--to speak in the place 
     of another.
       Now I do not confuse myself with Plato or even with Homer--
     whose epic poetry spoke not for one but for an entire 
     pantheon of heroes. Nevertheless, I decided that I could 
     certainly look to one of them for inspiration. I chose Plato, 
     both because Socrates is one of my heroes and, in some ways, 
     so is President Clinton. In addition, in this great democracy 
     we always think of our leaders--like Socrates--as ``on 
     trail''--although we may now be taking this idea rather too 
     literally. Moreover, it is clear that President Clinton and 
     Socrates share other intriguing characteristics.
       For example, I thought about the fact that Socrates' 
     marriage--to a woman who was considered extremely outspoken 
     for the time--seems to have been a source of considerable 
     controversy among his fellow citizens. Socrates also had 
     quite a reputation among his friends for enjoying and 
     celebrating life, although these activities seemed to have no 
     discernible impact on his other capacities. Like President 
     Clinton, Socrates was not from an elite background, and he 
     had to tolerate snide comments about how his wonderful 
     mother was ``just'' from the working class.
       Moreover, Socrates--as has President Clinton--took his 
     message directly to the people, where they worked and talked, 
     in the public square of Athens. In addition, Socrates did not 
     have a ``classical'' Greek build. He is said to have had a 
     notoriously round (probably pink) face. Socrates also spent 
     part of his days in the gym with friends (jogging wasn't in 
     vogue in Athens) and--like President Clinton--he spent part 
     of every day reading and talking with anyone from whom he 
     thought he could learn something. Most important, Socrates 
     viewed Athens--very much as President Clinton views America--
     with both admiration and a critical eye.
       Despite these striking ``similarities,'' there are more 
     important and substantive ways in which Socrates' situation 
     shows correspondences to the situation we face today as a 
     country and President Clinton faces as our leader. Of course, 
     there is the small (and inconvenient) matter that the context 
     of the Apology is not one of celebration: it's a court case. 
     And I wish to celebrate not only UCLA's anniversary but also 
     President Clinton's leadership. Let's overlook this 
     difference, though, and focus instead on the fact that 
     Socrates stood accused of the ``crime'' of ``introducing new 
     ideas.''
       The ``Socratic situation,'' therefore, remains a symbol for 
     all those leaders--like President Clinton--who are trying to 
     move a nation to a new and better place. New ideas--then and 
     now--are both dangerous and essential to our vitality. Too 
     often, however, we allow our leaders to shoulder the full 
     burden of change. If I try to imagine myself in President 
     Clinton's place today, I think I might want to make a number 
     of points which are really very much like that speech that 
     Plato put in the mouth of Socrates twenty-four centuries 
     ago--in order to put my case for change before the people of 
     California--and the nation.
       First, Plato realized that the first thing that confronted 
     Socrates--and has confronted many outspoken leaders since 
     then--is that some portion, perhaps even a great deal, of the 
     opposition to new ideas derives its energy not only from the 
     need for ``those in charge'' to defend existing privileges, 
     but also from the echoes and shadows of attitudes inherited a 
     long time ago that too often cause us to leave almost 
     unexamined new paths we are being urged to take or new ideas 
     presented to us.
       Perhaps the most important and influential single idea 
     that's come down to us from Plato's Apology--and perhaps from 
     the whole corpus of Platonic work--has to do with what gets 
     left unexamined. I mean the famous claim in the Apology that 
     ``The unexamined life is not worth living.'' This is a lesson 
     that we in universities take especially seriously and 
     consider to be central to our mission. What does it mean? 
     Well, when Plato advanced it, he made it clear that he meant 
     something pretty radical. He meant that what was most 
     important in life, what was most important for young people 
     to learn, wasn't necessarily how to make the most money or 
     how to gain the most prestige in the society of the day, but 
     instead how to recognize and work toward what he called ``the 
     good'' or what it was that made life worth living.
       This idea--attractive as it sounds--was not tremendously 
     popular among the elite in Athens of the 5th century B.C.E. 
     And I think it would be fair to say that, in America of the 
     20th century, it is not necessarily ``and idea whose time has 
     come.'' Nevertheless, from Socrates' time to the present, 
     there have been those leaders who have continued to bring 
     this ideal before the public.
       This role--of reminding citizens of goals that are larger 
     and more transcendent than most of our everyday concerns, are 
     more compelling than our old habits, and ask us to take the 
     concerns of others into account--has never been a very 
     welcome one. To this day, most of us, just as was true in 
     Socrates' time, find it easier and more natural to look to 
     the state of our bank accounts and our individual needs than 
     to the state of our souls and the needs of others in 
     formulating our views or making our individual choices and 
     public policy decisions. Moreover, current arrangements 
     always seem more natural to those enjoying their special 
     benefits and privileges.
       In 399 B.C., Socrates was put on trial for having ``new 
     ideas'' and for ``corrupting the young'' with them. And his 
     fellow Athenian citizens voted to be rid of this disturbing 
     individual who kept insisting that they should care more 
     about doing good than about doing well. President Clinton has 
     inspired us all with his new initiatives, his rhetoric, and 
     his ideals, but we must all hope that this time we--unlike 
     the Athenians--will be moved to embrace his ideas and to 
     bring America to a better place.
       I think it's important to notice--if we think about what we 
     might learn from his story--that Socrates himself--like 
     President Clinton--doesn't claim to be perfect, doesn't claim 
     to have the solutions. In fact, his only claim is that it's 
     of the utmost importance to continue to search for answers. 
     This questing, this continually urging his fellow citizens to 
     confront enduring questions of human values and the well-
     being of society so discomfits them, is so intolerable that--
     in the end--they cannot tolerate him. Better to get rid of 
     him they think, than to have to--as he insists--examine their 
     own lives and their own responsibilities.
       Our own society, sadly, is often not welcoming to those who 
     have had a new dream. We too often react with skepticism, 
     cynicism, and self-satisfaction, to those who would confront 
     us with uncomfortable questions, questions like: Who are my 
     neighbors? (And are they only within my own nation's 
     boundaries?) What are my responsibilities to others? (And do 
     they include concern for the preservation of their health and 
     well being?) What do I owe my fellow citizens? (And is it not 
     only taxes, but ``taxing'' myself to recognize and protect 
     the human dignity of those who differ from me?)
       When questions like these troubled the Athenians, they 
     thought they had a solution, namely: condemn the messenger. 
     Our nation's leaders often face the same response when they 
     ask us to take on new attitudes and new responsibilities.
       Luckily, Socrates' message was not at all silenced by the 
     Athenians. In fact, his pupils--like Plato--continued to 
     write it and speak it, so that it has echoed down through the 
     centuries. It is an uncomfortable message, which stresses a 
     lack of complacence--with ourselves and with our nation--
     and calls us to continual reexamination of our goals.
       When Socrates took this path in public life, he knew he was 
     taking risks. The public man or woman today who calls us to 
     high ideals--independent of his or her personal history or 
     characteristics--is also taking risks, some would say is 
     courting ``political suicide.'' It is always easy to find 
     reasons why such individuals are not blameless themselves, or 
     can't claim total knowledge, or don't have all the answers 
     for the future--and so we manage, often, to discount them. 
     And this allows us to remain set in our old ways, to avoid 
     taking on the burdens of change and re-direction and vision.
       But I'd like to think that we've actually made some 
     progress since the days of the ancient Athenians. I'd like to 
     think that, rather than condemning those who seek to rouse 
     our democracy today, we might actually be thankful that there 
     are such people--people like President Clinton--who have the 
     courage to try to move us to examine our principles and our 
     policies. Perhaps ``free trade agreements'' and ``tax 
     reform'' and ``welfare reform'' and ``health care policy'' 
     don't sound quite as grand to us as Socrates' quest for 
     ``justice'' and ``virtue.'' But they are the concrete 
     examples of our public lives today of adopting new ideas and 
     taking on new responsibilities. Rousing a democratic people 
     to face such challenges has lost none of its importance; it 
     still takes courage, and it deserves--in my opinion--our 
     greatest respect and our gratitude. Answers to such issues 
     may be difficult to find, but they cannot be found at all 
     without leaders who compel us to seek them, not only at the 
     level of public policy but at the level of our individual re-
     examination of our own actions and commitments.
       Well, I certainly can't fill the shoes of the President--
     any more than Plato could take the place of his teacher, 
     Socrates. There was about Socrates a certain charisma, an 
     ability to affect people deeply, that a mere citizen--faculty 
     or student--could hardly claim. But as President Clinton has 
     often noted, there is a critical role for us, as we are 
     confronted with the kind of leader who challenges, maybe even 
     irritates some among us, but at the very least rouses us to 
     re-examine those aspects of our society that for too long we 
     have accepted without question. Perhaps that role is to 
     accept the challenge, to be willing to listen and reflect--
     and also willing to act upon our reflections.
       For my own part, I'm grateful to President Clinton for 
     being, if you will, an American Socrates--challenging our 
     nation as Socrates challenged Athens, and I wish him well. I 
     also want to thank you here today for your kind reception of 
     my ``Apology'' that your speaker on this occasion was not 
     exactly what you had in mind.

                          ____________________