The Decline of Morality Noureddine Boutahar

It is said that "to be truly human is to be moral". However, as one reflects upon the passage of time, it becomes evident that moral values are on a decline. Various factors contribute to this downturn, including aspects such as faith, upbringing, culture, environment, personal experiences, education, and relationships. The implications of this trend do not augur well for humanity if the descent continues unabated.

Let's begin by clarifying the concept of values. Values encompass the principles, beliefs, and ideals that shape an individual's decisions and actions. These deeply ingrained virtues play a significant role in influencing attitudes and behavior. Examples of such values include honesty, respect, integrity, responsibility, fairness, accountability, gratitude, courage, selflessness, patience, trust, and compassion.

Surprisingly, according to a survey by Nature, respondents in more than 60 nations expressed a prevailing belief that people are now less moral than they used to be. However, when asked to provide specific examples illustrating this perceived decline in morality, few could cite any. Nevertheless, having experienced life in both rural landscapes and urban jungles, traversed the globe from Europe to America, and coexisted with generations ranging from Gen X to Gen Alpha, I can personally debunk this claim.

Evidence of the decline in moral values is glaring in the transformation of our once-trustworthy neighbors into strangers, our close-knit circle of friends into mere acquaintances, and the ties with relatives evolving into unrecognizable connections. The erosion of moral standards further unfurls in the shocking incivility displayed by today's youth when contrasted with the courtesy of the Silent Generation, Baby Boomers, Gen Xers, and Millennials. It is palpable in the unparalleled rise of fraud that stains our increasingly greedy society and the unpleasant swelling of foul language echoing through our public spaces...

Consider embracing your convictions today and people will part ways with you as a scabby animal. Try holding unwaveringly onto your principles and you will get a wave of backbites and slander. The pursuit of authenticity may unveil heart-wrenching consequences like the risk of losing connections with friends, relatives, colleagues, and neighbors. The quest for originality may cause a bitter truth and disclose the opportunists, ingrates, and hypocrites. Being moral in today’s society is a tussle that hurts and aches and challenges our convictions.

My childhood experiences have imparted a valuable lesson. As a child accompanying my parents to the Souk, the weekly open market, I observed them discreetly concealing valuable purchases. Intrigued, I questioned this behavior, and my father imparted a profound lesson about considering the feelings of the less fortunate— the poor, the deprived, and even pregnant women with specific food cravings. Despite my semi-illiterate parents and completely illiterate grandparents lacking formal education, they were paragons of virtue. Their wisdom, compassion, selflessness, and tolerance weren't derived from the teachings of Aristotle, Ibn Miskawayh, Umberto Eco, Ibn Arabi, André Gide, Naim Qassem, Paul Kurtz, or Bertrand Russell. Instead, these virtues were deeply ingrained in them through the channels of observational learning, personal experience, and attentive listening.

In their turn, my parents and grandparents not only conveyed moral values through words but also stressed the importance of observational learning, exposing us to places where virtuous actions unfolded—such as Souks, public ceremonies, and family gatherings. The significance of family gatherings was underscored as pivotal moments for instilling these values, a tradition now scarce in the face of technological influence.

The lion's share of blame for our moral decline today lies with technology, from television to cellphones. The absence of family gatherings, once a cherished opportunity to share stories, traditions, and values, has become a rare occurrence. The repercussions of this decline are significant, leading to a breakdown of trust, a decline in empathy and compassion, a disregard for honesty and integrity, and a lack of accountability and obligation.

This snapshot of societal decay is not merely disheartening; it serves as a stark call for reflection and a fervent plea for a moral resurgence. Echoing Anne O'Hare McCormick's words, "The foundations of the world will be shaky until the moral props are restored." In essence, a society consistently compromising its moral values is fated to witness the erosion of trust and social cohesion, potentially descending into what Thomas Hobbes aptly termed "the war of all against all." The looming question is: What kind of society awaits us at the end of this tunnel if we persist in nurturing such vices?

Breaking the Chains of Hypocrisy Noureddine Boutahar

As if Lady Colin Campbell were speaking on my behalf when she said, 'I'm not two-faced; I'm honest, and I tell it the way it is. I'm not good at hypocrisy, pretending to be someone I'm not.' Back in my younger days, my dear old grandma, may her soul rest in peace, used to tell me that I had seriously "thick lips." Of course, she wasn't referring to my pout! What she meant was that I was as straightforward and blunt as they come. Grandma's sage advice was, "Be more like camels, darling. They've got soft tongues, perfect for munching on those prickly weeds without a fuss!”

 Fast forward to my adult years, and boy, did I face a conundrum dealing with the sheep mentality posse—the folks who march to the beat of situations and circumstances, spinning a web of lies and hypocrisy as they go. I found it tough because my honesty and no-nonsense attitude were rare like a diamond in a field of pebbles. People expected me to dish out lies as if I were a counterfeit artist forging illusions on the canvas of conversation, just to go with the social flow.

 Oh, the struggle was real! I suffered because I refused to partake in what I call social hypocrisy. They wanted me to flash a grin at people I couldn't stand, all in the name of social decorum, as if my feelings were supposed to take a backseat to theirs. I was expected to bend the truth, sprinkle fairy dust over unpleasant realities, and perform the delicate dance of social hypocrisy. However, I couldn't bring myself to play the game.

 Then, as I ventured further into the wider world, I stumbled upon the stark reality that hypocrisy is the cherished policy du jour. I crossed paths with folks who championed family values but were caught red-handed cheating on their spouses. I met religious leaders who preached about honesty but were later exposed for spinning tall tales. I encountered people who wore a friendly facade when things were smooth, but showed their true colors in times of adversity. And don't get me started on those who claimed to be against discrimination but then spewed out racist and sexist remarks like confetti.

 I was told that we're all hypocrites at times, that our actions needn’t always line up with our beliefs. I was told about the existence of "white lies," and it left me feeling a bit bewildered. It struck me as curious that people would assign colors to lies in an attempt to rationalize them. Translation? Be an angel in the daylight and a mischief-maker when no one's watching. Spread kindness and compassion during the day, and let loose your satanic side when night falls. What kind of society are we brewing here?

 Allow me to shed a bit more light on the matter: there's a clear distinction between the art of courtesy and the murky waters of hypocrisy. While courtesy is all about embodying politeness, respect, and good manners, hypocrisy takes a detour into the realm of deceit, lies, and dishonesty. Picture it like this: courtesy is the VIP section of genuine behavior, while hypocrisy is the uninvited guest crashing the party with a bag full of duplicity. Simply put, doing the right thing without the right intentions is a one-way ticket to the land of the hypocrites.

 A moment of silence for Mr. Ourrach, my primary school teacher, may he rest in peace. He left an indelible mark on my mind with his lesson from the famous and cherished Iqraa textbook: "Wherever you go, be mindful of your actions, for the eyes of God are always upon you." Oh, my, what a textbook! It brimmed with captivating tales of morals and values, weaving a mosaic of wisdom that resonated with the very essence of life. It wasn't just a book; it was a treasury of timeless lessons that sparked the imagination and guided the soul.

Our First Radio Noureddine Boutahar

Growing up in the countryside during the late sixties and seventies was a unique experience, especially without the ubiquitous presence of TVs. In the rural setting of my childhood, my dad was among the few who possessed a tabletop radio, our exclusive source of at-home entertainment. This box-shaped device, powered by hefty, non-rechargeable batteries, needed time to warm up before efficiently transmitting its waves.

The front of the radio featured an indented panel housing controls and a speaker outlet. The lower part contained three knobs - one for turning on the radio and adjusting volume, another for selecting stations, and the third for changing the wavelength from long to medium. This radio was not just a device; it was the center of our entertainment universe.

Gathered around it, my family and I would listen to captivating radio dramas that sparked our imagination. Closing my eyes, I could transport myself to different times and places, enchanted by the theater of the mind. For my dad, the radio was a vital source of information. He tuned in for news updates, talk shows, and in the evenings, Amazigh programs, given that the Amazigh language had limited airtime from 16:00 to 20:00.

In the bustling heart of our expansive family, a sense of reverence and a hint of secrecy embraced the enchanting melodies of Amazigh songs—a symphony reserved for moments when we couldn't share them together. Laden with the essence of love and romance, these tunes became our private indulgence, set aside for times of seclusion. So, whoever desired to immerse themselves in the lyrical tales emanating from the radio had to find a moment of solitude.

Yet, Fridays emerged as extraordinary deviations from our usual clandestine routine. On these hallowed evenings, our abode resonated with the profound wisdom of Imadiazen, the Amazigh poets. Completing our field work and tending to the farm animals earlier than usual, we would gather around the radio, immersing ourselves in verses that intricately wove narratives of piety, faith, and invaluable religious counsel at the onset of the broadcast. As the evening unfurled, we'd be captivated by Imadiazen's poems, each one delving into diverse topics and themes, adorning our Friday nights with a mosaic of eloquence.

As children, laying a finger on that prized possession was strictly off-limits, and we always had to patiently wait for Dad to take the lead, albeit occasionally sneaking in stolen moments of radio bliss. However, when I reached my mid-teens and entered high school, I was granted the honor of using the radio without needing Dad's permission. It swiftly became a cherished pastime during school vacations, etched vividly in my memory. The radio transformed into my go-to companion for exploring various music genres, thrilling dramas, and the latest news, with a special emphasis on English programs.

Serving as my inaugural English teacher, I tuned in to BBC broadcasts, progressing from picking up a few words to understanding phrases, sentences, and eventually grasping the entire main idea. Listening to news in both Arabic and Amazigh significantly enhanced my comprehension of BBC's English global updates.

Concerns arose when my dad worried that the radio might be fostering passive behavior and laziness, especially given the agricultural work we had to attend to. Thus, an informal agreement was reached—moderate radio use was permitted only during leisure times, ensuring a balance between the radio and my farm responsibilities.

Amidst the symphony of those countryside days, our humble radio, albeit the only game in town, played a pivotal role, not merely as a purveyor of entertainment but as a gateway to enlightenment, cultural immersion, and family unity.