The American Way: How Faith and
        Family Shaped the American Identity, Part I
        
        
        
        
        Allan Carlson
        
        
        Allan
        Carlson is Distinguished Fellow in Family Policy Studies at the Family
        Research Council, and President of The Howard Center for Family,
        Religion & Society. This is a modified version of a Family Policy
        Lecture originally presented to The Family Research Council, Washington,
        DC, October 29, 2003. It is printed here with permission. Part II will
        appear in the June Issue of the St. Croix Review.
        
        
        “America . . . is a
        nation of individuals and individualism,” states an article posted by
        The Objectivist Center shortly after 9/11. It approvingly calls American
        individualism “an infuriating obstacle” to “religious
        traditionalists like Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell” who “would
        like to see the entire nation adopt their creed and morality.” A more
        measured—and classic—affirmation of the same sentiment can be found
        in Herbert Hoover’s 1922 book, aptly titled American Individualism,
        where he labels himself “an unashamed individualist” holding to
        “the ideals that constitute progressive individualism.”
        
        
        In respect to the
        dignity and worth of each human life and to the ideal of equal
        opportunity, this affirmation of individualism as the American creed
        bears a certain truth. Yet this sentiment also misses other, and perhaps
        larger, truths. My new book, The “American Way”: Family and
        Community in the Shaping of the American Identity, argues instead
        that images of family, home, and religiously grounded community have
        been stronger, and more compelling aspects of the American creed. Time
        and again during the 20th Century, Americans successfully responded to
        great crises and challenges—mass immigration, war, economic
        depression, the rise of Communism, global responsibility—by turning to
        family, home, and faith as the wellsprings of national identity and
        unity. These, not individualism, form the “American Way.” Viewed
        from a different angle, 20th Century episodes of great American
        failure—such as the fall of Vietnam to Communism—have been directly
        linked to the temporary abandonment of a family- and faith-centered
        “American Way.”
        
        
        In short, my book can
        be read as a history of the last 100 American years viewed through a
        social conservative lens. Often, the result is surprising. It turns out,
        for example, that for a good share of the 20th Century, the
        Democrats—rather than the Republicans—could be fairly labeled the
        pro-family party. One broad truth also becomes clear: the pro-life and
        pro-family movements are not products of just the last several decades.
        Since 1900, prominent Americans have identified new challenges posed to
        marriage, family, home, and infant life by the modern world, and they
        have crafted cultural and political strategies to protect these primary
        and necessary institutions. The contemporary work of The Family Research
        Council, and related organizations, builds on this rich, but now largely
        forgotten-legacy.
        
        
        This morning I will summarize my argument by telling
        you the story of seven characters—five men and two women—found in
        the book. They, and the others described in its pages, are the
        architects of a modern family and faith-centered American Way.
        
        First,
        Theodore Roosevelt
        
        
        
        
        Mr. Roosevelt can be fairly labeled the first openly
        pro-life and pro-family President, attributes that his
        biographers—including most recently Edmund Morris—largely ignore.
        U.S. President, from 1901 until 1909, Roosevelt clearly identified the
        “foes”—his word— of the American family. The practice of
        “willful sterility in marriage”—or birth control and
        abortion—was “a capital sin” against civilization, he said, a
        practice that meant national death. He held liberal reinterpretations of
        Christian teaching on family and sexuality in particular contempt.
        Before an audience of liberal Protestant theologians, for example, he
        blasted sympathies toward birth control and stressed the linkage between
        family creation and Americanism:
        
        If
        you do not believe in your own [people] enough to [bear larger
        families], then you are not good Americans and you are not patriots, and
        . . . I for one shall not mourn your extinction; and in such event I
        shall welcome the advent of a new race that will take your place,
        because you will have shown that you are not fit to cumber the ground.
        
        
         
        
        
        Mr.
        Roosevelt condemned as fools those “professional feminists” who
        labeled wives and mothers at home as “parasite” women. The
        home-keeping mother was not a parasite on society, he countered. “She
        is society.” Roosevelt also pointed to easy divorce as a foe of the
        family, calling it
        
        
        
        
        . . . a bane to any nation, a curse to society, a menace to
        the home, an incitement to married unhappiness, and to immorality.
        
        
        
        
        The
        “multiplication of divorces” in America, he concluded, meant that
        “some principle of evil [was] at work.”
        
        
        Of greater importance,
        Theodore Roosevelt crafted a positive philosophy of family life. He
        regularly emphasized the centrality of the child-rich family to American
        existence as the cell of American society:
        
        
        [I]t is in the life of the family, upon which in the last analysis the
        whole welfare of the nation rests. . . . The nation is nothing but the
        aggregate of the families within its borders.
        
        
        Moreover,
        a nation existed only as its
         
        
         
        .
        . . sons and daughters thought of life, not as something concerned only
        with the selfish evanescence of the individual, but as a link in the
        great chain of creation and causation . . . 
        
        
         
        a
        chain forged by the “vital duties and the high happiness of family
        life.” In this manner, the family was the essential wellspring of
        American citizenship. Roosevelt’s words again:
        
        
        In all the world there is no better and healthier home life, no finer
        factory of individual character, nothing more representative of what is
        best and most characteristic in American life than that which exists in
        the higher type of family; and this higher type of family is to be found
        everywhere among us.
        
        
        Mr. Roosevelt also
        painted a remarkably fresh and compelling portrait of marriage. The good
        marriage, he argued, was a full partnership, in which “each partner is
        honor bound to think of the rights of the other as well as of his or her
        own.” The way for men to honor “this indispensable woman, the wife
        and the mother,” was to insist on her treatment as “the full equal
        of her husband.” Regarding the rearing of offspring, “[t]here must
        be common parental care for children, by both father and mother.”
        
        
        Roosevelt’s view of
        marital partnership, though, went beyond the vision of shared
        responsibilities. On the emotional and spiritual side, he said that a
        true marriage would be “a partnership of the soul, the spirit and the
        mind, no less than of the body.” The “highest ideal of the
        family,” he wrote, could be obtained “only where the father and
        mother stand to each other as lovers and friends.”
        
        
        On the practical and
        material side, Roosevelt believed in early marriage, as a counter to
        temptations toward immorality. More profoundly, he believed that the
        successful marriage, “the partnership of happiness,” must also be a
        “partnership of work.” Anticipating the later insights of
        micro-economists, Roosevelt understood that the strong family must be a
        true economic unit. “Our aim,” he wrote “must be the healthy
        economic interdependence of the sexes.” Attempts to craft the
        “economic independence” of the sexes would create “a false
        identity of economic function” and result in national ruin.
        
        
        Accordingly, Roosevelt called for public policies that
        would encourage young couples to marry and—if possible—to bear at
        least four children, and hopefully more. “Motherhood should be
        protected” from immersion into industry, he wrote. Income and
        inheritance taxes
        
        
        
        
        .
        . . should be immensely heavier on the childless and on the families
        with one or two children, while an equally heavy discrimination should
        lie in favor of the family with over three children.
        
        
        
        
        For example, Roosevelt suggested that the couple
        should receive an income tax exemption of $500 (current value about
        $10,000) for each of their first two children, and $1,000 (current value
        about $20,000!) for each subsequent child. Roosevelt also argued that
        government pay scales should give preference to the parents of larger
        families:
        In
        all public offices . . . the lowest salaries should be paid the man or
        woman with no children, or only one or two children, and a marked
        discrimination made in favor of the man or woman with a family of over
        three children.
        
        
        I wonder what the American Federation of
        State, County, and Municipal Employees would think about that idea
        today?
        
        
        My Second Character Is Julia
        Lathrop
        
        
        
        
        Miss Lathrop was the first woman to head a federal
        government agency. In 1912, President William Howard Taft—a
        Republican—appointed her as chief of the new U.S. Children’s Bureau.
        The following year his successor, Democrat Woodrow Wilson, reappointed
        Lathrop to the post, as did Wilson’s successor in 1921, Republican
        Warren G. Harding.
        
        
        I have a special
        fondness for Julia Lathrop, in part because her family home is in the
        very neighborhood in which I have lived for the last 22 years:
        Churchhill’s Grove in Rockford, Illinois. Her former residence stands
        three short blocks from my own home; three blocks in the other direction
        can be found her grave in Greenwood Cemetery.
        
        
        The daughter of a Republican Congressman
        from Northern Illinois, Miss Lathrop began her work in the 1880s at Hull
        House in Chicago, alongside another former Rockford resident, Jane
        Addams. Like other “settlement houses,” Hull House aimed at
        encouraging and easing the assimilation of new immigrants into American
        life. Between 1880 and 1914, an average of one million new immigrants
        arrived each year. Relative to existing population, this migratory flow
        occurred at nearly three times the current rate. Unlike earlier periods
        in American history, moreover, majorities of these newcomers neither
        spoke English nor practiced the Protestant faith. Many observers worried
        that the rise of “hyphenated” cultures—such as German-American or
        Italian-American—threatened the nation’s cultural coherence and
        unity.
        
        
        Lathrop concluded that the immigration problem was, in
        fact, a problem of homes. “Americanization”— meaning assimilation
        and unity— could best be secured by focusing on a common motherhood,
        using images of marriage, children, and home to represent the
        “American Way of Life.” Along with fellow activists such as Florence
        Kelley, Grace Abbott, Mary Anderson, Josephine Baker, and Frances Kellor,
        Lathrop forged a worldview sometimes called “social feminism,” but
        better labeled “maternalism.” As described by historian Gwendolyn
        Mink, maternalism offered a new vision of citizenship, built on
        
        
        
        
        .
        . . one motherhood from diversely situated women. . . . The[se]
        reformers believed that all women shared the maternalist vocation and
        therefore all women controlled the future of the Republic.
        
        
        
        
        Hull House, for example, featured a Labor Museum for
        children to reveal “the charm of women’s [traditional]
        tasks”—“the milking, the gardening, the marketing”—which
        “are such direct expressions of the solicitude and affection at the
        basis of all human life.” The maternalists also viewed the modern
        homemaking class as “the fulcrum” of their Americanization strategy.
        Among their policy victories, the Smith-Lever Extension Act of 1914 and
        the Smith Hughes Vocational Training Act of 1917 funded home economics
        teachers and curricula across the county to train young women as future
        mothers and homemakers.
        More broadly, Miss Lathrop and her maternalist allies
        sought to restore healthy families among all Americans. Speaking in 1915
        to the graduates of Vassar College, she called on university women to
        create “a single center of training for research in the problems of
        the family” in order to give the woman in the home “the status of a
        profession” and to “elevate into a national system, strong, free,
        elastic, the cult of the American family.” Central to maternalist
        thinking was the concept of a family wage. Pointing to research showing
        that as the father’s average income doubled, the infant mortality rate
        was more than halved. Julia Lathrop concluded that
        
        
        
        
        .
        . . a decent income, self-respectingly earned by the father, is the
        beginning of wisdom, the only fair division of labor between the father
        and the mother of young children, and the strongest safeguard against a
        high infant mortality rate.
        At the Children’s Bureau, Miss Lathrop held that
        “the first and simplest duty of women is to safeguard the lives of
        mothers and babies.” Condemning birth control and abortion, her goal
        was to encourage maternity through better health care for all mothers
        before, during, and after pregnancy. She called the campaign “Baby
        Saving.” The Bureau published books on Prenatal Care
        and Infant Care, distributing 1.5 million free copies of the
        latter by 1925. It encouraged the formation of Little Mothers Leagues;
        by 1915, the Bureau counted over 50,000 member girls—mostly immigrant
        children—in 44 cities. The Bureau relentlessly promoted breastfeeding
        and discouraged early weaning and infant formula use. In 1916, it
        crafted a “National Baby Week.” Over 4,200 communities took part
        through lectures, baby-care seminars, and parades. “Best Mother
        Contests” tested mothers’ knowledge. Orators celebrated motherhood
        as a vital vocation. “[M]others with infants in arms paraded down Main
        Street to the applause of flag-waving townspeople.” At the Bureau’s
        request, Congress declared 1918 to be “The Year of the Child.” Its
        campaign to promote good mothering and reduce infant mortality involved
        an amazing 11 million women.
        Miss Lathrop’s greatest policy achievement, though,
        was probably passage of The Sheppard-Towner Act in 1921. In 1918,
        maternal deaths in childbirth still numbered 23,000 in the U.S., up from
        16,000 two years earlier. And the infant mortality rate that year still
        stood at 100 deaths per 1000 live births, about twice the level found in
        Western Europe. Sheppard-Tower would provide funds for state-level
        programs of instruction in maternal and infant hygiene, prenatal
        child-health clinics, and visiting nurses for pregnant and new mothers.
        In Miss Lathrop’s words, Sheppard-Tower encouraged “the
        Americanization of the family.” It “is not to get the Government to
        do things for the family,” she said. “It is to create a family that
        can do things for itself.”
        The American Medical Association fiercely opposed
        Sheppard-Towner, calling it “German paternalism,” “socialism,”
        and “sob stuff.” All the same, the law appears to have worked.
        Infant deaths due to gastrointestinal diseases—the ones most
        preventable by education—fell 45 percent by 1928. As the first federal
        social “entitlement,” without means test, Sheppard-Towner was
        notably and successfully pro-life and pro-family.
        My Third Character Is Arthur
        Altmeyer
        
        
        
        
        Only recently have American historians come to
        appreciate how religious communitarianism, born in Europe, took root in
        America during the late 19th Century. In his important volume, The
        Minds of the West,
        Berkeley historian Jon Gjerde shows how
        
        
        
        
        .
        . . the flowering of intellectual movements carried from Europe . . .
        built upon fears of familial and social decline.
        
        
        In response, these idea
        movements in America sought to privilege “natural institutions,”
        such as the family and community, and to protect them from
        “artificial” structures, such as great corporation and state. Gjerde
        emphasizes that this new communitarianism especially “flourished in
        German-speaking areas” of America, “where romantic notions of an
        organic society composed of people enveloped by groups” took root.
        German Roman Catholics in America drew encouragement from Pope Leo
        XIII’s great 1891 encyclical, Rerum Novarum, and from the
        Irish-American advocate of the family wage ideal, Father John Ryan.
        German Protestants
        showed a similar turn toward communitarian thought. Among Lutherans in
        the conservative Missouri Synod, the theological leadership of C. F. W.
        Walther emphasized the priority of the congregation and the family over
        the individual and state. Indeed, Walther said, the family was “The
        Foundation not only of the Church but also of the State.” Meanwhile,
        many German and Dutch Calvinists in America embraced the anti-liberal
        thought of Abraham Kuyper, who characteristically wrote:
        
        
        The Home! Wonderful creation of God! . . . As for the individual the
        proceeds of life are from the heart, so for society are the proceeds of
        life from the Home.
        
        
        This religious background to pro-family social reform
        helps explain a curious fact: Recent feminist historians loathe the New
        Deal constructed during the 1930s. They do not object just to some of
        its parts. They condemn the broad domestic policy of the Franklin D.
        Roosevelt administration precisely because it favored the traditional
        family. It is important to note here that the Great Depression triggered
        in 1929 was more than just an economic crisis. It was also a crisis of
        the family. The vast majority of the newly unemployed 15 million workers
        were once “breadwinning” men in the industrial sector. Not by
        coincidence, the U.S. marriage and birth rates both tumbled by 20
        percent during the short 1929-33 period, the opening years of the
        Depression.
        
        
        The roots of the New
        Deal in religiously communal thinking and the actual “pro-family”
        nature of many New Deal projects converge in the story of Arthur
        Altmeyer and the Social Security Amendments of 1939. Born and reared in
        small town Wisconsin, Altmeyer was the descendant of Christian German
        immigrants. At the University of Wisconsin, he was a student of John
        Commons, who emphasized ways for government to protect families and
        communities from so-called “predatory special interests.” According
        to historian Linda Gordon, most members of this “Wisconsin School”
        of social reform “took their Christianity very seriously and
        considered their reform work part of a Christian moral vision.”
        
        
        Altmeyer’s opportunity came in 1937, when the new
        Social Security system was on the point of collapse and repeal. The
        initial Act of 1935 was actually quite limited in scope. The government
        began collecting payroll taxes in 1936, but no old age benefits would be
        paid out until 1942. Moreover, workers were covered solely as
        individuals; dependents were considered irrelevant.
        
        
        In 1936 the Democratic
        Platform pledged “the protection of the family and home.”
        Republicans ran for Congress in 1938 criticizing the recent Social
        Security Act as too stingy, and gained over 80 seats in Congress. When
        the Senate Finance Committee created the Federal Advisory Council to
        recommend reforms, Altmeyer and five other University of Wisconsin
        graduates won appointments. These six represented a full 25 percent of
        the panel. As historian Larry Witt reports.
        
        
        The
        Council’s report, which tracked Altmeyer’s agenda almost perfectly .
        . . fundamentally altered the nature of the program by adding survivors
        and dependent benefits. . . . This changed Social Security from a
        program focused on the economic security of the individual worker and
        made it a program focused on the economic security of the family unit.    
        * 
        
        
        “The wicked flee when no
        one pursues, but the righteous are bold as a lion.” King Solomon
        
        
        We
        would like to thank the following people for their generous
        contributions in support of this journal (from 1/12/2005 to 3/10/2005):
        Lee R. Ashmun, Dirk A. Ballendorf, Bud & Carol Belz, Aleatha W.
        Berry, Jan F. Branthaver, David G. Budinger, D. J. Cahill, Frances G.
        Campbell, John Alden Clark, William D. Collingwood, Samuel J. Criscio,
        Nancy W. Davis, Michael D. Detmer, Nicholas Falco, Nansie Lou Follen,
        James R. Gaines, Robert Gates, Gary D. Gillespie, Philip Gilmore, Mr.
        & Mrs. Lee E. Goewey, Joseph H. Grant, Kelly A. Grant, Joyce
        Griffin, Alene D. Haines, Ted L. Harkins, Thomas E. Heatley, Quentin O.
        Heimerman, John A. Howard, Thomas E. Humphreys, Dr. & Mrs. Patrick
        R. Huntley, Mr. & Mrs. David Ihle, Arthur H. Ivey, Burleigh Jacobs,
        D. Paul Jennings, Louise H. Jones, Robert E. Kersey, Robert M. Kubow,
        James A. Lee, Francis P. Markoe, Curtis Dean Mason, Paul W. McCracken,
        W. K. McLain, Roberta R. McQuade, Aubrey A. Melton, Walter M. Moede,
        Robert A. Moss, Tom S. Murphree, Joseph M. Murray, Larry A. Olsen,
        Frederick D. Pfau, David Pohl, Donald J. Povejsil, Walter B. Prentice,
        Garland L. & Betty Pugh, Shirley W. Roe, Howard J. Romanek, Morris
        R. Scholz, Mr. & Mrs. Richard P. Schonland, Irene Schultz, L.
        Sideris, Joseph M. Simonet, Ben T. Slade, Norma H. Slade, Norman
        Stewart, Daniel J. Torrance, Eugene & Diane Watson, Robert D. Wells,
        Richard B. Wenger, James J. Whelan, Gaylord T. Willett, Max L.
        Williamson, Eric B. Wilson, Lowell M. Winthrop, Piers Woodriff.