Michael Tavoliero: Coolidge’s Code, the ethics lesson some of Alaska’s leaders forgot

By MICHAEL TAVOLIERO

In 1891, Calvin Coolidge began a four-semester philosophy course taught by Charles E. Garman which all Amherst students were required to take. The ethics class portion had a positive impact on his life. He later wrote in his autobiography,  

“In ethics he taught us that there is a standard of righteousness. That might does not make right, that the end does not justify the means and that expediency as a working principle is bound to fail.” 

Almost one 135 years later, how do we, as Alaskans, now measure that standard? Have we internalized the appeal of righteousness only to negotiate this appraisal with power, reward and convenience? 

If we can judge the weight of our principles against a majority opposing our standard, when do we quit and stop being persistent?

My answer is “Never!”

Today, by the ill-tempered actions of Alaska’s legislature, principles are replaced with vague vaporous slogans, reminding us that the best way to catch politicians in a lie is to watch their lips move or just read their social media posts.

This is an indictment of political cowardice masked as pragmatism. When State Senator James Kaufman posts on his Facebook page, “we took some good first steps”, we as voters must be reminded that leadership without principle is ultimately betrayal.

Instead of insisting on meaningful reform, Kaufman claims “My vote today was a restatement of my commitment to improving education in Alaska” legitimizing that the Alaska Legislature is not concerned about achieving improvements, just prolonging the true agony of poor education outcomes for Alaska’s progeny. 

Our law-making body betrays ethical governance and ignores the way those outcomes are pursued. The real improvements come from eliminating all components of Alaska’s education system which do not teach Alaska’s children and strengthening those that do…parent, student, teachers and performance outcomes.

The legislature’s habit of embracing shortcuts, backroom bargains, and survival-based compromises may yield fleeting political wins, hollow praise, and instant gratification, primarily for those employed within Alaska’s education bureaucracy, including some of these elected members. But the irony is inescapable: claiming to improve education while replicating the same failed results of the past decades will only further erode public trust, undermine institutional integrity, and sacrifice lasting outcomes for superficial progress.

Expediency in Alaska politics is the rule and never the exemption.

He continues with a profoundly simple aspiration for our current generation, “The only hope of perfecting human relationship is in accordance with the law of service under which men are not so solicitous about what they shall get as they are about what they shall give.”

Coolidge understood that the pursuit of a more perfect society is not found in isolation, but in association through relationships built on service, not self-interest. Human relationships are never perfect, but their improvement rests not in the concentration of authority, especially in the hands of those detached from the people they govern.

Too often, that authority is exercised by individuals with little real knowledge or lived experience yet cloaked in institutional power. Their governance feigns compassion but masks a deeper aim, albeit in some cases, unconscious and incompetent, to oppress through policy while enriching influence and entrenching themselves. We witness this now in epidemic proportions.

In contrast, the law of service, the willingness to give more than one seeks to receive, is the only foundation capable of strengthening human connection and building lasting civic trust. It is here, in this ethic of giving, that true reform is born, not in power held, but in service rendered. A lesson perennially avoided by Alaska’s legislature and its current members.

Coolidge’s observation sits comfortably alongside Lincoln’s call for “the better angels of our nature,” or Christ’s teaching that “he who would be greatest among you must be the servant of all.”

It’s more than a moral ideal. Alaska urgently needs to rediscover the tenets of American governance rooted in limited government, individual liberty, civic virtue, and popular sovereignty. Those ideals have quietly slipped from the political landscape. They’re not occasional exceptions, they are the foundation.

He counters with, “Yet people are entitled to the rewards of their industry. What they earn is theirs, no matter how small or how great. But the possession of property carries the obligation to use it in a larger service. For a man not to recognize the truth, not to be obedient to the law, not to render allegiance to the State, is for him to be at war with his own nature, to commit suicide.”

Through our continued learning and pursuit of a stable, productive life, we understand that true entitlements are earned, not handed over to those trapped in collective apathy and denial. Instead, they are to be shared in the spirit of purpose, knowing that the gifts we cultivate in ourselves can help give rise to other productive lives.

We are not a democracy. We are a republic. Nowhere is “republic” found in our state constitution, but it is embodied in its principles, representative democracy, checks and balances, and limited government. 

Coolidge calls for a balanced civic ethic where we all take on the responsibility to contribute, uphold truth and serve the republic. When these are rejected, it doesn’t just damage our state’s integrity but sabotages our humanity from continually improving.

He concludes, “That is why ‘the wages of sin is death.’ Unless we live rationally we perish, physically, mentally, spiritually.”

The reward of wrongdoing is more than a physical death, it is a spiritual departure from the brilliance of the Gift of God. Romans 6:23 bears the importance of the profound impact of the karma enunciated in all spiritual endeavors as does every other faith on this planet.

It’s a moral warning: When individuals, and society, abandon rational, virtuous living, they collapse. It’s both deeply personal and broadly political. It suggests that ethical decline isn’t just wrong. It’s failure.

Michael Tavoliero: Alaska’s future under bureaucratic drift — the quiet surrender