As far as television series go, I have perpetually lagged behind contemporary viewing audiences and felt woefully out of place during water cooler conversations concerning “the last episode”. So, in true form, I missed Downton Abbey–all six seasons. I could honestly say that I heard about it, generally speaking, but knew little specifics. People whom I respected spoke of the series in glowing terms, so I assumed it must be worthy of viewing. Sometime, that is.

That time arrived for me a few weeks ago when, armed with a set of DVDs from seasons 1-4 and an Amazon Prime account for seasons 5-6, I embarked on a binge-viewing session while my husband was in Honduras on a mission trip. I know him well enough to safely say that Downton Abbey would not be his cup of tea. (Sorry for the horribly obvious pun!)

To say I have been smitten with this British series, with the characters and the setting, with the costumes and the accents, is one of the largest understatements I have ever made. Most certainly, the people of Downton Abbey–the upstairs and the downstairs people–have their share of problems which often center on the growing conflict between a traditional, aristocratic world and an emerging modern world in the early 20th century.

In this world, a virtuous appearance is everything; a hint of impropriety is disaster. And this is true for both the aristocratic class and their house staffs. When the head butler enters the staff dining room, everyone stands out of respect for his position. Ladies and gentlemen, house staff and visitors disagree, sometimes passionately. But there are no raised voices, no vulgar comments or ad hominem attacks. Traditionalists and progressives spar over five course meals or soup and bread. Still, civility reigns supreme in the formal dining hall and the kitchen alike.

For the inhabitants of Downton Abbey, no one is entitled to be cruel in his or her advancement of an idea or position. Individuals may disagree and move on to the business of the day. When the day winds down, disagreements may be revisited over tea served in china cups with saucers. Or they may be slept upon, reflected upon, or settled upon.

Which has led me to wonder if our country needs some serious tea-time, complete with china cups, silver serving trays, and chintz-covered chairs. How have we become a nation of individuals convinced that we are entitled to pressing our views regardless of the costs? How have we convinced ourselves that we are entitled to incivility disguised as freedom of expression?

I concede that freedom of expression is a hallmark American privilege and right. Still, the fact that we are free to express our opinions and positions does not excuse the often uncivil manner through which we bludgeon others.  I agree with John Gerald Zimmerman, famous American magazine photographer, who wrote:

Incivility is the extreme of pride; it is built on the contempt of mankind.

Words that maim and destroy, voices raised in blind anger, ideas thrust like spears into opponents’ hearts, kill shots that pierce with force and leave victims bloodless. This is incivility at its best. And worst. It is contemptuous and inhumane. At its heart (dare I say incivility has a heart?), is extreme pride. Uncivil individuals are excessively and tragically proud. Armed with righteous indignation and a certainty that often defies logic, they cannot, they will not consider another perspective or person. They leave a trail of victims in their wake.

The words of Peter Kreeft, author and philosophy professor at Boston College and The King’s College, may be perhaps the best remedy for incivility:

Be egalitarian regarding persons. Be elitist regarding ideas.

It is possible–and clearly preferable–to be egalitarian to others, particularly those with whom we disagree. They are entitled to share their views; they are entitled to our genuine and polite consideration. We must, however, be elitist regarding our ideas, for our failure to be discerning will ultimately result in these once solid ideas watered down into a moral mush unfit for human consumption.  Civil people can most certainly hold fast to ideas and principles and yet honor those who oppose those very ideas and principles.

Every time I read Martin Luther King’s “Letter to Birmingham Jail,” I am struck by the power of his arguments delivered so powerfully, so eloquently, and so civilly to fellow clergy who have criticized his words and actions. Consider his opening paragraph:

 My Dear Fellow Clergymen:
While confined here in the Birmingham city jail, I came across your recent statement calling my present activities “unwise and untimely.” Seldom do I pause to answer criticism of my work and ideas. If I sought to answer all the criticisms that cross my desk, my secretaries would have little time for anything other than such correspondence in the course of the day, and I would have no time for constructive work. But since I feel that you are men of genuine good will and that your criticisms are sincerely set forth, I want to try to answer your statement in what I hope will be patient and reasonable terms.

My Dear Fellow Clergymen? Men of genuine good will whose criticisms are sincerely set forth? These are men who have called his civil rights’ work “unwise and untimely.” They may be fellow brothers in Christ, but they are real opponents who argue that he should not engage in non-violent civil disobedience and should, even after 300 years of discrimination and subordination, continue to wait patiently for change. Clearly, King could take his place at the head of the dining table in Downton Abbey, comfortable and well-versed in the civility that transcends time and place, race and position. King can passionately but civilly disagree. In his world, everyone is entitled to this civility, friend and foe alike. In his world, no one is entitled to cruelty or violence as means of protest.

Tom Allen, former member of the House of Representatives representing Maine’s 1st Congressional District, wrote:

Incivility is a symptom, not the disease. We’ve always had partisan conflict in Congress, and we always will. Yet when I worked for a year (1970-71) on the staff of Sen. Ed Muskie of Maine, this was a different place, more collegial, more sensitive to data, more concerned about all of the American people. I think because the for-profit media prizes conflict above cooperation and sound bites above analysis, politicians have learned to adapt to those tendencies. Consequently, our public debates are dumbed down as our problems grow more complex.

If Allen is correct, and incivility is a symptom, not the disease, it stands to reason that we must cure the disease if we are ever to get rid of this painful symptom. In this Season of Entitlement, I could make a legitimate case for the claim that all Americans are entitled to this type of health care. Call it CivilityCare. Call it what you wish, but, for heaven’s sake, cure it! (Although I’m not sure that Lady Crawley of Downton Abbey would approve of my my bold and unladylike use of the exclamation mark here, I will beg for forgiveness later.)

There are hours of my life I will never regain during which I modeled and taught the virtue and necessity of civil disagreement in countless high school and college classrooms. Today, some may seriously argue if these hours have been worth my time and effort, for the world into which these students emerge seems to be increasingly apathetic–if not outright disdainful–towards such civility. Just as I grieve for those who will not know the virtue and blessing of work, I grieve for those who will never know the virtue and blessing of civility and civil disagreement. These, too, may be lost after generations who have fed solely on dramatic conflict and angry sound bites.

In his book How Now Shall we Live? Charles Colson warns that:

People who cannot restrain their own baser instincts, who cannot treat one another with civility, are not capable of self-government… without virtue, a society can be ruled only by fear, a truth that tyrants understand all too well.

How now shall we live? That is, indeed, the million dollar question. Around us, there are daily reminders of those who cannot or will not restrain their baser instincts, who cannot treat one another with civility and who are not capable of self-government. Incivility floods the airwaves, the internet, the sidewalks and hallways, rural and urban settings. It is an equal-opportunity choice for liberals and conservatives, educated and uneducated, old and young, rich and poor.

In my ideal world, I would round up all of these folk and require them to attend years of professional development and training at Downton Abbey. If they became proficient at civility, they would be invited to eat in the grand dining hall. If they chose to remain uncivil, they would eat with the pigs at the edge of village, out of sight and earshot from the civil folk. They would receive a life sentence of trading slop for slop. They could spew vicious, venomous words into the pig lot, endlessly. Unlike feeling, thinking humans, the pigs could care less.