Things I've Learned #2: All worldchanging is local

I've always cared about making the world a better place. I joined the military partly out of a strong, idealistic belief that US power could be a force for good. I care deeply about global ills like poverty, war, genocide, child soldiering, and sex trafficking. I'm not particularly interested in my career; I'm more interested in where I can go to "make a difference." I spend a lot of time thinking about how I can use my unique experience and abilities in the service of greater good.

My idealism didn't last long on active duty, but even as a committed realist, I still care deeply about making the world a better place. That's why my blog is titled "Building Peace" and that's why I'm living in the Middle East. After a couple years on active duty, watching our country make preventable mistakes because key leaders so deeply misunderstood the region, obtaining an Olmsted scholarship became my new life goal: I would learn the Arabic language, learn the culture, and learn everything I could about the region, so that someday, when I was the guy sitting in a position of authority somewhere, I would know how to make a better decision than my predecessors. My dad once asked me why I was constantly reading "The Economist" or "Foreign Affairs" on Christmas vacations instead of anything fun. I told him that I wasn't studying for the job I'm in now; I was preparing for the job I want to hold in twenty years. I was moved by a visit to Churchill's underground war rooms in London where, at the end of the tour, I saw this quote: "I felt as if I were walking with destiny, and that all my past life had been but a preparation for this hour and for this trial." When would my hour or my trial come? When would my moment come to change the world?

I got the scholarship I desired. I'm learning Arabic. I'm living in the Middle East. But it didn't take me very long at all to realize something crucial: I'm not that important. I speak Arabic pretty well, but 250 million Arabs speak it far better (and a lot of them also speak English). The military produces a lot of people who are way smarter than I am. I'll have a good career ahead of me in sha' allah, but there is never going to be a job where I can say, "Ah, this is my moment to bring positive change to the world." At what point do you start making a difference? When you're a colonel? A general? An undersecretary? The head of a think tank? The President? Look at how little President Obama has been able to steer the ship of American foreign policy, despite his firm intentions to change course. I've realized that no one person or office is equipped to change the world.

So what is a would-be worldchanger supposed to do? I've learned to get realistic. I've realized that all worldchanging is local. It's like the old saying: life is a journey, not a destination. If we wait for a life situation that will let us change the world, most of us will be disappointed (or will cause tremendous damage). The real worldchangers are the ones who routinely leave small imprints at every step of the journey. They bring positive change wherever they are planted. The best thing we can do is live actively and selflessly within our sphere of influence, however big or small that might be.

My predecessor in Jordan, a good friend and fantastic officer who also flies C-17s, had a good philosophy about this. He was moved by a Biblical passage about an occupying Roman centurion that helps the local Jews build a synagogue. My friend wanted to offer these sorts of small blessings wherever he could, one person at a time. He helped his Arabic tutor get a job at DLI. He helped a friend from university fill out visa paperwork and apply for a work-study program in the US (it was a life-changing experience for this friend). He helped his professor's son apply for an exchange program at West Point (he got in and is studying there now). He did a fantastic job using his unique situation, experience, and knowledge to serve and help others. I'm trying to adopt the same philosophy.

I've never read the book Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, but someone told me about one of its models, which I've always found helpful. All of us have a large "sphere of concern" that includes those issues we care about--everything from faith, family, friends, and hobbies on up to the big issues like war, health care policy, and the economic crisis. Within that circle we have a much smaller "sphere of influence", which encompasses all the things we can actually affect in our lives. It might include things like our personal relationships, our local community, our job, our volunteer activities, how we vote, or where we give our money. The best any of us can do is live well within our sphere of influence. We can also try to expand our sphere of influence, which will allow us to work more effectively for the things we care about. My current scholarship is a perfect example. These same rules apply whether you're sixteen years old or the President of the United States.

If we all took this advice to heart, the world would be a better place. Globalization has shrunk our world and made our spheres of concern larger than ever; it's easy to feel crushed by the weight of the war in Afghanistan or the earthquake in Haiti. The sense of helplessness leads to a lot of fear and anger. Recognizing the difference between the sphere of concern and the sphere of influence is liberating; it teaches humility, helps us admit we can't change all these problems by ourselves, and gives us freedom to live peacefully within our own local domain. At the same time, most of us never really explore our full circle of influence (how many Americans vote?). If we really believe that all worldchanging is local, there is a lot we can do.

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