Using Power Well

A newborn baby cries.  That’s the first instance of his exercising of power.  And that’s just the beginning.

Power is exercised by all human beings.  We all leverage our gifts to gain advantage of one kind or another. And there are all kinds of power.  Some people have great intellectual power, others charisma, others good looks, and still others, wealth or charm or talent.  Some hold high office, some are physically strong, others have family ties or reputation.  In and of itself, power is neither good nor evil: it is morally neutral.  It can be used for nefarious ends, or it can be used to heal and to bring justice.  It just depends on the spiritual maturity of the one who wields the power, and the purpose for which it is used.

Two news stories about the use of power, one noble and one ignoble, caught my eye in recent days.

The first was about the death of the revered newsman, Walter Cronkite, at the age of 92.  He was the voice of the people from 1962 to 1981–somehow, listeners expected him to be informed, and honest.  They trusted him.  Cronkite was a modest man, even after he achieved fame.  He was surprised when people came to see him, rather than the people he interviewed.  He was dumbfounded when some suggested that he run for political office. 

Walter Cronkite was there for us at the moon landing (and if you’re old enough, you remember where you were, when you heard Neil Armstrong utter those amazing words); he was there for us when Kennedy was assassinated–he broke precedent, took off those dark glasses and shed that necessary tear for all of us; he was there during the national disgrace of Watergate, reporting the facts, and by doing so, showed us the extent of the political and moral damage.

Cronkite never saw himself as an analyst–he was a newsman, and in fact his title at CBS was “managing editor of the evening news.”  But on one important occasion, he offered a personal perspective, an interpretation of events.  In 1968 he visited Vietnam, and he was appalled by what he saw there.  He returned, knowing that the war was a lost cause.  He produced a rare special program in which he said that the U.S. could not win the war and advocated a negotiated peace settlement.  It is reported that Lyndon Johnson, the sitting President, snapped off the television and stated, “If I’ve lost Cronkite, I’ve lost middle America.”  Of course, Cronkite was not the sole reason for Johnson’s decision not to run for another term–but that program was a sign Johnson could not overlook.

Cronkite had considerable power in 1968, and he chose to use it to tell the truth to the American people.  He acted with integrity.  He used power well. 

The second example is one that is just the opposite–it illustrates power misused and misappropriated.  I am speaking of the decision of the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration to suppress the vast research–their own, in fact–about the dangers of driving under the influence of cell phones.  Consumer advocacy groups have “outed” the research by filing a Freedom of Information Act lawsuit.

The former head of the agency, Dr. Jeffrey Runge, explained the withholding of the information by saying that he was pressed by members of Congress who told him to stick to reseach and not to meddle with lobbying or policy change. 

A Harvard study done in 2003 estimated that cellphone distractions resulted in 2,600 deaths every year, as well as 330,000 moderate or severe injuries. If this data is for 2003, can you even imagine what the 2008 data will look like, as so many more of us acquire and use all kinds of devices in our automobiles–everything from cellphones or hand-free devices (no safer, according to research) or texting or videos?

So how does Dr. Runge sleep at night these days?  And how are the Congresspeople feeling who pressured the agency?  And what about the companies who readily admit the dangers of these devices, while creating more and more of them to tempt drivers?  All of these people have power.  They have power to protect life, or to invite death and injury.

Last Sept. 3 Christopher Hill, a 20-year-old with a perfect driving record, drove past a Goodwill store, where a dresser caught his eye–a dresser that his friend might want.  He dialed her to tell her about it, and just didn’t notice the red light.  He ran into the side of Linda Doyle’s small sport utility vehicle going 45 miles per hour.  She was pronounced dead on the scene. 

Christopher pleaded guilty to negligent homicide, a misdemeanor, for causing Linda Doyle’s death.  Now when he finds himself a passenger in a car and the driver starts using a cell phone, he becomes nervous, he says.  But he’s a polite guy who doesn’t want to ruffle feathers.  So he doesn’t say anything.

Christopher, let me just say this: you have power now.  Use your power.  Speak, for you have a story that maybe people should hear.