Books, Volume 14 #5

Michael Novak, Business as a Calling: Work and the Examined Life. New York: The Free Press, 1996. 224 pp. $30..

"Commerce...shows forth in a material sign the `mystical body of Christ.'" If you believe this, you'll love Michael Novak's latest panegyric to capitalism. If you don't, Business as a Calling will be a tedious and occasionally annoying read.

Novak has emerged in North American religious circles as one of the more prolific theological defenders of capitalism, his offerings including The Spirit of Democratic Capitalism, The Catholic Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism and Toward a Theology of the Corporatio. His latest is a wide-ranging, sometimes muddled effort at providing balm to soothe the battered egos of corporate executives who have come under fire for their lavish compensation, the "jobless recovery" and their companies' disregard for the environment and exploitative labour practices in developing countries. Take heart, guys (they are guys, for the most part, though some women do get mentioned): yours is a serious moral and religious calling, and the system you serve--capitalism--is morally good. This about sums up Novak's message, except for the admonition to his corporate readers to be good, because being so is good for their souls, will make them happy and, most important, is good for business.

There is an important series of questions at the origins of this book, which Novak regrettably loses sight of in his haste to make those engaged in business feel good about themselves. What are the ethical underpinnings of capitalism as a system of economic organization? If, as Novak (drawing on Aristotle) admits, ethics is a branch of politics, then what effects does global capitalism have on political efforts to respect and promote social, economic, political and cultural rights? What principles should be used to analyse these effects, both from the point of view of judging capitalism as a system and from the perspective of the individual executive whose work constantly entails making ethical judgements and decisions? What do religious traditions have to offer to an ethical consideration of capitalism as a system and to the individual decisions of those engaged in business?

However, Novak simply says, "It is no accident that a capitalist economy grew up first in the part of the world deeply influenced by Judaism and Christianity. Millions of people over many centuries learned from Judaism and Christianity not to regard the earth as a realm merely to accept, never to investigate or experiment with; but, rather, as a place in which to exercise human powers of inquiry, creativity and invention." This is just pamphleteering, and historically and theologically simplistic. Unfortunately, that's about all one can expect from Business as a Calling.

A final question for Novak. He claims, "Capitalism better helps the poor escape from poverty than any other system." If that is so, then how can he explain that from 1960 to 1991 the poorest 20 per cent of the world's population got poorer, their share of global wealth dropping from 2.3 per cent to 1.4 per cent, while the world's richest 20 per cent increased their share of the pie from 70 to 85 per cent; or that 358 men (the world's billionaires) have as much combined wealth as 45 per cent of the world's population, or 2.3 billion people? That is the most urgent moral problem facing capitalism and those who serve and benefit from it, one to which Michael Novak is completely oblivious.

Commerce as a sign of the mystical body of Christ? No, I don't believe it.

Leonard Desroches, Allow the Water: Anger, Fear, Power, Work, Sexuality, Community--and the Spirituality and Practice of Nonviolence. Toronto: Dunamis Publishers (407 Bleecker St., Toronto, Ont. M4X 1W2), 1996. 508 pp. $29.95. .

"Have we chosen revolution of the heart, or war--tools or weapons? Do we really believe in the sacredness of good work and common wealth? Are we strengthening our hearts, healing our sexuality?"

Allow the Water invites the reader along on a journey to answer these questions personally and among others who are part of our lives. The author, Len Desroches, has personally been tested by fire and is eager to share his experiences. He knows that the path is not easy and the way is not clear.

What he offers is threefold: a broad vision of the spirituality of nonviolence that is linked not only to resisting acts of war but also to reconciling personal anger and fear; his own experiences of standing against the war machine while embracing the way of very simple living; and stories of those who have chosen the path of nonviolence against overwhelming odds.

Desroches begins Allow the Water with stories of violence and anger from his youth. This places us, as readers, in direct contact with our own early experiences and the ways in which our encounters with violence, anger and sex have shaped how we think.

What then proceeds is a respectful, gentle and deep journey through concrete examples of anger and violence and how these experiences can be transformed in a nonviolent way. Never denying the reality of anger (don't go around anger--go through anger), Desroches roots each experience in prayer and a deep spirituality. He contrasts dunamis (inner spiritual strength) with exousia (externally sanctioned power). The essence of dunamis is what remains with us as he recounts countless examples of violence, hatred, war and oppression, as well as the strong nonviolent stands taken by people whose names we know and will remain with us for many years--Dorothy Day, Desmond Tutu, Oscar Romero, Adolfo Perez Esquivel--along with many ordinary people.

The journey continues through chapters on revolution, war ("the profound moral laziness and cowardice of sending the young to die and kill for us"), culture, work and sexuality. This book is important because human societies desperately need to learn the arts of nonviolence and a "radical surgery" to rearrange our priorities and habits. Desroches sees a new church community being born that is "disarmed and vulnerable to God, [and] learning to use the powerful healing tools of nonviolence....If the church community became a place of radical wisdom regarding work, sexuality, nonviolent resolution of conflicts, imagination and beauty, I believe we would go a long way toward putting back the leaven."

Desroches gives hundreds of concrete examples to illustrate these words. This is what makes the book so readable. As well, the author lives what he talks about. Before leafleting at the Litton arms plant, he would pray for grace and strength in the face of the abuse he would inevitably be subjected to. He has built his way of living around nourishing his inner strength to experience "perfect joy." This book generously shares his accumulated wisdom.