Virtually all of my colleagues at Kennesaw State University—at least the folks I talk to—are agreed on one thing. No matter what our political convictions, we are impressed by the degree of entitlement demonstrated by our students. Most believe a college degree is a right.
Furthermore, these learners are convinced that they deserve one without having to work hard. The goal is to get through with as little reading and writing as possible. Then, if something goes wrong, they blame others. The professor demanded too much. There was not enough time. The subject matter was too difficult.
It is plain that personal responsibility has gone out of fashion. This is a nationwide phenomenon. Thanks to the liberal ascendency, millions of Americans are certain they merit success without earning it. Others have an obligation to take care of them, whereas they need only sit back and enjoy the ride.
Barack Obama contributed massively to this attitude. His message that we must be each other’s keepers implied that the government should be everyone’s keeper. When he told business owners that they did not create their companies, he was saying that only the government creates anything.
If this idea is combined with encouraging people to sign up for food stamps or social security, the meaning is clear. We Americans need no longer do for ourselves. Personal responsibility is outdated. Our job is to be consumers, not doers.
Nonetheless, I remember the incident that taught me the importance of responsibility. I was working as a counselor at a New York City Methadone Clinic. My job was to help addicts get off of heroin. Still in my twenties, I was to supply them with encouragement and advice.
In any event, I was earning enough to afford my first car. It was a little red VW bug. At the time, I was living on the upper West Side of Manhattan. As a result, each day I drove down town and paid to park at a lot not far from work.
Then one day a colleague suggested that we drive to a fish place across the Hudson River. It had a great reputation and so several of us crammed into my vehicle to make the journey. The meal was delicious.
Once back in the city, the question was where to park. I had only about an hour and a half left on my shift; hence it did not make sense to pay for another full day of parking. There were empty spaces in front of our clinic, but signs indicated that leaving an auto there was illegal.
My friends said not to worry. It was unlikely that I would get a ticket for such a short period of noncompliance. As luck would have it, however, I did. This was my first parking offense and I was mortified. What would I do?
Since our excursion had been a joint venture, I expected my coworkers to chip in. They did not. Instead I encountered a studious silence when I informed them of my dilemma. This was not what I expected. The disappointment was painful.
But then I reflected upon my situation. This was my car. I had decided to park it where I did. While it was true that I was influenced by my friend’s advice, I was at the controls. In short, this was my responsibility. I was to blame and therefore had to pay.
This was a seminal moment in my life. All of a sudden I realized that I was an adult. No one had a duty to bail me out. It would have been nice if they had, but I was not a child. Mommy and Daddy were not going to rescue me from every mistake.
That’s the way it is when you are an adult. You make decisions and live with the consequences. If you break something, you have a duty to fix it. You accept the blame when you are at fault.
Doesn’t this apply to society at large? Can a nation survive if too many of its citizens behave as if they were eternal children? Where is the courage to stand up and deal with life’s difficulties? We reside in a complicated world. If we don’t dedicate ourselves to doing our best, who will?
Big Daddy Obama is gone. He never was the only adult in the room. Isn’t it time for people to stop whining about what they don’t have? Shouldn’t we pull up our socks and get on with business?
Melvyn L. Fein, Ph.D.
Professor of Sociology
Kennesaw State University
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