Ethics Alarms Celebrates Presidents Day: The Speeches: Theodore Roosevelt’s “The Man In The Arena,” April 23, 1910

Theodore Roosevelt wasn’t still President when he gave his speech,  “Citizenship In A Republic”,  at the Sorbonne, in Paris, France on April 23,, 1910. He was a President, though, and getting ready to run for the office again; moreover, you can have a speech be any more pure Teddy than this one.

It is his most quoted speech as well as the one which describes his essence. I wonder if President Trump has read it? Teddy wouldn’t approve of Trump, I think, but he would have to admire the President’s determination to spit  in the eyes of his critics, and “whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

That describes Donald Trump these past three years as much as any President, including Teddy Roosevelt.

Strange and impressive associations rise in the mind of a man from the New World who speaks before this august body in this ancient institution of learning. Before his eyes pass the shadows of mighty kings and war-like nobles, of great masters of law and theology; through the shining dust of the dead centuries he sees crowded figures that tell of the power and learning and splendor of times gone by; and he sees also the innumerable host of humble students to whom clerkship meant emancipation, to whom it was well-nigh the only outlet from the dark thraldom of the Middle Ages.

This was the most famous university of mediaeval Europe at a time when no one dreamed that there was a New World to discover. Its services to the cause of human knowledge already stretched far back into the remote past at a time when my forefathers, three centuries ago, were among the sparse bands of traders, ploughmen, wood-choppers, and fisherfolk who, in hard struggle with the iron unfriendliness of the Indian-haunted land, were laying the foundations of what has now become the giant republic of the West. To conquer a continent, to tame the shaggy roughness of wild nature, means grim warfare; and the generations engaged in it cannot keep, still less add to, the stores of garnered wisdom which where once theirs, and which are still in the hands of their brethren who dwell in the old land. To conquer the wilderness means to wrest victory from the same hostile forces with which mankind struggled on the immemorial infancy of our race. The primaeval conditions must be met by the primaeval qualities which are incompatible with the retention of much that has been painfully acquired by humanity as through the ages it has striven upward toward civilization. In conditions so primitive there can be but a primitive culture. At first only the rudest school can be established, for no others would meet the needs of the hard-driven, sinewy folk who thrust forward the frontier in the teeth of savage men and savage nature; and many years elapse before any of these schools can develop into seats of higher learning and broader culture.

The pioneer days pass; the stump-dotted clearings expand into vast stretches of fertile farm land; the stockaded clusters of log cabins change into towns; the hunters of game, the fellers of trees, the rude frontier traders and tillers of the soil, the men who wander all their lives long through the wilderness as the heralds and harbingers of an oncoming civilization, themselves vanish before the civilization for which they have prepared the way. The children of their successors and supplanters, and then their children and their children and children’s children, change and develop with extraordinary rapidity. The conditions accentuate vices and virtues, energy and ruthlessness, all the good qualities and all the defects of an intense individualism, self-reliant, self-centered, far more conscious of its rights than of its duties, and blind to its own shortcomings. To the hard materialism of the frontier days succeeds the hard materialism of an industrialism even more intense and absorbing than that of the older nations; although these themselves have likewise already entered on the age of a complex and predominantly industrial civilization. Continue reading

Is Watching A President’s Speech A Civic Duty?

It certainly was regarded as one once. Back in the ancient days when there were just three TV networks and no cable, Americans didn’t even complain that all three would be broadcasting Presidential addresses at once, causing them to miss “Sugarfoot,” “McHale’s Navy,” or “The Gale Storm Show.” Ratings for Presidential speeches have been steadily declining, however, since the advent of cable and satellite TV, and the perpetual campaign mode of recent Presidencies has played a role as well.

I am a American Presidency enthusiast, as if you couldn’t tell, and I feel guilty about skipping President Obama’s address on the economy last night, as I feel guilty every time I re-arrange my sock drawer when POTUS speaks to the nation. That’s been my habit for a long, long time. Yes, I never miss inaugural addresses, and I always watch the State of the Union speech, though that commitment is on life support. The rest? If there is a genuine and immediate crisis, an announcement of war or something similarly earth-shattering, I’ll be in the TV audience. Addresses like last night’s, however—-vaguely political speeches calculated to bolster support, spin bad news or bash the opposition—-those I just can’t tolerate, and haven’t for decades. Continue reading