April 24, 202600:31:09

73. The Soul of Civility with Alexandra Hudson

Welcome to the Art, Life, Faith Podcast, and I’m your host, Roger Lowther.

Let me take a moment to invite you to our upcoming conference, May 22-27, 2026, just one month away, here in downtown Tokyo with easy access to all the beautiful art and culture of our city. During our time together, we will offer many short presentations, talks, and performances to lead us in worship through the heart art languages of Japan, all around the theme of “The Beauty of Japan, The Beauty of Heaven.” Every session will include discussion times to get to know the people around you, to encourage networking, and to inspire and encourage one another. We will also have an art gallery with plenty of space to display and distribute materials. We will also host unique activities we are calling “Worship in the City,” enabling people to worship God outside the walls of our building and through the art and culture of Tokyo.

This gathering has space for up to 200 people. This is not just a conference, it is an experience. You have to come to know what I’m talking about. I know it’s going to change your life. God has already blessed tremendously through the preparations for this event, and we can’t wait to see what he already has in store.

We are hosting this event specifically over Pentecost weekend to celebrate the things to come, when all the nations will be united across their different languages and different cultures and different arts in worshiping God together. Hear me on this. We will not be speaking one language or sharing one culture, but God delights in the diversity of the cultures and calling us to worship together. So, come spend Pentecost weekend with us here in Tokyo! We look forward to having you.

Well, this episode I had the privilege of having a conversation with Alexandra Hudson, or Lexi, the author of “The Soul of Civility: Timeless Principles to Heal Society and Ourselves.” A number of weeks ago, she was passing through Tokyo on vacation with her family when she was gracious enough to sit down with me and talk about the various themes in her book and then lead an Art Life Faith event right afterward.

One of the things that came up during our conversation was about “porching.” Porch is not usually used as a verb, but Lexi talks about it in her book. She and I share a mutual friend, Joanna Taft, director of the Harrison Center for the Arts in Indianapolis, who invites people onto her porch every week to just share their lives with one another. And through this Art Life Faith event, we realized that that is exactly what these gatherings are. We gather around a table, have a meal together, and get to know each other. This time, three visitors came who I had never met before. And then they came again to gatherings we had in the weeks that followed. This porching was a wonderful opportunity to invite people into our community, and it was wonderful to have Lexi and her family spend that time with us as well. I’m glad I get to share this conversation with all of you.

Roger

Welcome to the Art Life Faith podcast, and I’m your host, Roger Lowther. Well, tonight we have the privilege of talking with Alexandra Hudson, who was passing through with her family on vacation, and so we got to arrange an Art Life Faith event happening right after our conversation. So I wanted to introduce her to all of you. So thank you, Alexandra, for being on the show.

Lexi

Thanks for your hospitality. Great to be with you and Abi tonight and excited for the conversation.

Roger

We just met, so I’m not quite sure how to introduce you. Can you introduce yourself?

Lexi

Yeah, I am passionate about ideas and storytelling and how they can make our lives richer and better. I love history and philosophy, and I wrote a book called “The Soul of Civility: Timeless Principles to Heal Society and Ourselves.” It’s about how to flourish across deep differences, which is the most urgent question of our day in our era of hyper-partisanship, of extremism, of despair, of loneliness. But it’s also a timeless fundamental human question: How do we peacefully coexist amidst competing visions of the good? That’s what I explore my book.

Roger

Well, it’s an interesting book title because civility, when I try to translate it into Japanese in my head, I’m not quite sure which word to use.

Lexi

Oh, interesting. What are the options?

Roger

Well, the one I want to use is politeness, but it’s not politeness, is it?

Lexi

No, it is not. It’s interesting that you said that.

Roger

How is it different?

Lexi

You’re setting me up really nicely. A core argument of my book is that there is an essential distinction between civility and politeness, and in English we have these two words. We have civility and politeness, but people often today use them interchangeably, whether or not they want more of it or less of it. And in America, in the West, we have two vocal groups right now. One group says, “Oh, we are so divided. We’re so broken. Democracy is in peril. We need more civility and politeness in order to save democracy.” So they use this one phrase, “civility and politeness.” And there’s another contingent as well that says, no, civility and politeness are part of the problem. They’re the tools of the powerful, the patriarchy. They oppress the powerless, and we need to burn it all down, throw the baby out with the bathwater. Less civility and politeness in order to achieve greater justice and equity in the world. But both these contingents use these phrases interchangeably, and I argue that they’re different.

I love etymology. I love studying language, and I love the origin of language. I’ve loved learning about Japanese and Japanese characters and the stories. So the etymology of civility and politeness is illuminating, and it’s, it’s actually honoring the original etymology to separate these words. So the etymology of, well, let me tell you what the difference is first, then I’ll go.

Roger

I’m thinking like civilization…

Lexi

So politeness, I argue, is manners. It’s etiquette. It’s technique. I know there’s a lot of influence in Japan on Confucius philosophy, but so is this concept of li. I don’t know if that is a concept here at all, but it’s like ritual. It’s propriety.

Roger

Japan is certainly known for its politeness.

Lexi

That’s correct. What we do is what we say, whereas civility isn’t external, it’s internal. It’s an inner disposition of the heart. It’s a way of seeing others fundamentally as our moral equals, worthy of respect just by virtue of our shared dignity, our equal moral worth as human beings, by virtue of the imago dei, that we are, we are created with it. We have the divine imprint, and that means that every single one of us without exception bear an irreducible moral worth and are worthy of respect. We owe to others that bare minimum of respect by virtue of imago dei.

Roger

I think I read on the back of your book that it’s not just about your actions and words but about the attitude of your heart, right?

Lexi

Right. The disposition of the heart is what civility is, and that sometimes actually respecting someone, actually loving someone, requires being impolite. It requires telling a hard truth, having an uncomfortable conversation, even especially in a democracy, engaging in robust debate. I mean, think of a marriage, you know, sweeping differences under the rug is not sustainable for an authentic true relationship. It’s going to get messy. It’s going to get hard. You have to have uncomfortable conversations. But, and in fact, having difficult conversations can be a tool of strengthening a relationship. It’s not about whether you disagree, it’s how you do it and whether you are…

Roger

If you’re uncivil, does that mean that you are fighting these? What kind of interaction is uncivil? You guys are being uncivil. You know, something I may say to my boys something, right?

Lexi

Civility requires action sometimes, but it also takes certain action off the table. I’ll give you an example. In chapter 7 of my book, I talk about civil disobedience. And let me just go to the etymology to illuminate the distinction a little bit more. So politeness, our word in English, comes from the Latin polire, which means to smooth or polish. And that’s what politeness does—it papers over difference, it sweeps it under the rug, as opposed to giving us tools to grapple with difference head-on. The etymology of civility is civitas, which is our etymological root for citizen, citizenship, civilization, city. And that’s what civility is— it’s the, the duty, duties, the conduct, the mores, that the disposition, the habits befitting a citizen in a city, and especially in a democracy that requires truth-telling, that requires honest, robust debate that is the lifeblood of a democracy.

Roger

Okay, so, you know, living here in Japan, we’re often taught to be polite because that’s such a big part of society. And I have seen a lot of relationships broken when they don’t know how to be polite. They say, well, let’s just not talk to that person, and then I don’t have to be fake. I just won’t see that person. And there doesn’t seem to be a kind of a way through for building community. There’s a lot of brokenness in relationships in Japan. So what you’re talking about is a way through that.

Lexi

That’s so interesting. I’m not saying don’t be polite. I’m not condemning Japan as a polite society. I’m saying that’s not enough, that the form the words, the rituals, the actions, without the inner disposition that sees you as my fellow human being worthy of respect, that it’s not going to be enough. And in the West as well, we too often settle for politeness. We, we settle for just people doing and saying the perfectly correct thing, but we’re missing civility, that inner disposition of the heart that helps us actually know when to depart from politeness, when to have those uncomfortable conversations.

Roger

Okay, so let me ask you now, because this is the Art Life Faith Podcast, what is the role of beauty and art in creating this soul of civility?

Lexi

I did a kintsugi class while I was here in Japan, and I love that as a metaphor for life and the human condition, this ancient practice of taking broken pottery that some might cast away but taking it, piecing it back together, and making it more beautiful on the other side of this process, illuminating our brokenness. I think that’s really powerful.

Roger

So the brokenness of society is something that you as an artist of society are trying to speak into?

Lexi

I’ve been going back and forth about what I am because I’m not just a writer, I’m not just a speaker. In fact, like this season of my work, I’m a practitioner. Like I am both trying to live this and build initiatives and institutions in my community and helping dozens of other people across the country right now, including Congress, including state legislatures, including Ivy League universities, build initiatives around my work as well. So, civic architect is one idea. I don’t know. Listeners, write to me with your ideas for how to characterize what I’m doing. I wrote this book. It’s both descriptive and normative, but now I’m doing it, and so I don’t have there’s no category really for that that I know of. So if you know of one, if you can help me think of one, I welcome it.

Roger

Yeah, well, I’ll keep thinking about it. I mean, one reason I asked you to come and speak tonight for this event is we were connected by a mutual friend who runs the Harrison Center for the Arts. I looked at some of the pictures. I saw you were doing events there. You were connected to this art gallery. Can you tell us a little bit more about that connection?

Lexi

To really do justice to that story, let’s back up a little bit about why I wrote this book. I love history. I love philosophy. I love ideas. I was raised by two very curious human beings. My mom and dad are intellectually omnivorous, and our home life growing up was just very stimulating. And my parents taught me wonder was a way of life. I went to a combination of public, private, and charter schools growing up, but I loved all school because I had this really intellectually robust home life that promoted the life of the mind. Then I went to grad school at the London School of Economics, because I wanted to put ideas into practice. I feel like my education kind of stopped at the Italian Renaissance, and I wanted to know more about the world that I was about to live in. Then I got my first big break in DC. I served in federal government, and it felt like the honor of a lifetime. I couldn’t wait to serve my country, and I chose to serve at the United States Department of Education, the single largest institution in the history of mankind dedicated to student instruction. And I was devastated to discover they didn’t really care about education, at least not how I had been educated, about soul craft and ordering our passions and beauty and goodness and truth. And on top of that, it was so dehumanizing, my experience in Washington. My experience was kind of a microcosm of our dysfunction and division as a whole. I saw two extremes that are equally as dehumanizing. One was the hostile contingent in government, people who were willing to step on anyone to get ahead, overtly belligerent. And the other contingent were polished and poised and polite, but ruthless and cruel.

Roger

Yeah, I believe it.

Lexi

I saw people who would smile at me and others one moment and then stab us in the back the next. And that really disillusioned me. And I realized upon reflection that these two extremes they seem like polar opposites. And in fact, people often tack in one direction as an antidote to the other. People who are just exhausted by the hostility are trying to be uber polite to try and compensate, but they’re actually equally as dehumanizing. Both insufficiently appreciate the profound gift of being human in ourselves and in others. The hostile contingent sees others as pawns to be bludgeoned into submission, silenced.

Roger

That’s certainly the image of government.

Lexi

And the polite contingent sees others as pawns to be manipulated and then discarded, but neither see human beings as they really are— beings with dignity, worthy of respect. So I fled Washington. I served one year. I remember the day very clearly. I came home from work one day. It was a very dispiriting day, and I said to my husband, I’m done with DC. I’m done with the swamp. I’m done with government. Let’s move to Indiana. And he said, okay, sounds good, we’ll move to Indiana.

Roger

So why Indiana?

Lexi

Because he’s from there originally. He’s from northern Indiana, and I wanted anywhere but Washington. I just wanted something different. I had in my mind like rolling pastures and farmland, like just peace and tranquility. So he smiled and said, okay, sounds good, we’ll move to Indiana. No takebacks. And a few months later, we were out there, and one of my first friends came up to me after church one day and she said, “Hi, I’m Joanna Taft. Would you like to porch with us sometime?” And I never heard the word porch used that way.

Roger

I’m not sure what that is.

Lexi

But I was curious, and again, we didn’t know many people in town. And so we went to her beautiful historic great big front veranda on her porch that Sunday afternoon, and I realized that she was staging a quiet revolution against our polarized, divided, isolated status quo from her front porch. She had curated people that day, much like what you’re doing here tonight, you know, not to have a structured dialog across difference, but just to say You know, what does it mean to engage one another as human beings first? And it was a beautiful oasis from the divisions that I had been just so immersed in in government, where, you know, the world wants us to assign value to our race, our wealth, our political persuasion, where we live, all these different identities. And it was an oasis from that. It was just a chance to be present with other human beings and I’ve been on book tour the last several years. I’ve been in like 145 cities and 5 countries. And I saw people like Joanna doing the same independently. People who said, this is the power in Joanna’s work and her life being an argument for this work.

Lexi

She was saying, I can’t control others. I can’t control who’s president. I can’t control what’s happening down at city hall. I can only control myself, and I’m going to choose to double down and make my community better and more beautiful. And I tell her story in my book, The Soul of Civility, because the porch is the metaphor that I use, one of the metaphors I used for this, this theory of social change, that we can’t change others. We can’t. It’s the world wants to disempower us and blame.

Roger

Yeah, I love it. Especially here in Japan, community is so much more important than ideas. And my sense is that America is getting more and more interested in, this is my idea, this is where I stand, are you with me or are you an enemy?

Lexi

Is there “porching” in Japan?

Roger

There’s a lot of cafes. People are always going out to izakaya, which is kind of Japanese bar restaurant type of thing. That is a meeting ground. Country Chicken is a fried chicken, izakaya-type place that’s just down there. We can see it out the living room window here. I do karate with my dojo, and we meet there like every couple months. It’s just a fun place to gather and talk. And I’m the only Christian in the group, I’m the only foreigner in the group, and they’ve invited me into their community through the sport of doing karate together. It feels like porching, I guess, because we’re always sharing various ideas. They sometimes ask me provocative questions about politics in the States, and I usually try to avoid those topics. But yeah, that could be porching, I guess.

Lexi

It absolutely is porching because it’s not even about the porch. You got that right away. It’s a way of engaging others in the world with civility, seeing them as a human being first. You know, you’re not American or Japanese first. You’re not a Republican or Democrat first. You’re my fellow human being and I want to know you. I want to see you. I want to know you and maybe even love you. That is what Joanna fostered on her porch that day that felt so powerful, to have people be seen and known and loved in the fullness of who they are. And that’s refreshing in a world that wants to essentialize us.

Roger

Yeah, that definitely is what we’re trying to create tonight. We open our home to people. It’s why we are where we are. It’s kind of easy to get to. You came from Tokyo Station. How far are we from there?

Lexi

Like 10 minutes.

Roger

Not too far, right?

Lexi

I know, it was wonderful.

Roger

Yeah, so we’re trying to be centrally located for that reason. And our church too isn’t far from here. We’re trying to create that kind of community. So going back to the art gallery, or just arts in general…For artists who are listening, what would you say to them about their role in this? How can they help be an architect of civility in their cities, in their communities? What does that look like?

Lexi

Well, Pope Francis has this great phrase. He called us all to be artisans of the common good. And I love that. I do a lot of work with civic leaders, with elected officials, with CEOs, with educators, people who might not consider themselves artists. I think we’re all artists. We are all creators because we are made in God’s image, and our God is the Creator.

Roger

Yes.

Lexi

And I think that we are closest to being who we really are and who God created us to be and most like him when we are creating. So that’s a core message I have for people in my community that might not think of themselves as creative. They’re not part of the creative economy. And it’s like, no, you are. And it’s about finding that still quiet voice that you have a calling to, and to innovate, to see a need, something that doesn’t exist, and to build something that meets that need. So this season of my work, I’m not just talking about the book. I call myself a co-creator with these dozens of local leaders. I call them Civic Renaissance Ambassadors. They’re congresspersons. They’re state representatives. They’re local mayors. They’re city councilors. They’re school teachers. They’re people from all walks of life who have read my book, found it useful, and said, “Okay, I’ve read it, I love it, but how do I live it?” And when I was getting that question all throughout book tour, I said, “I don’t know, I just wrote a book.” But now I’ve learned a lot and I’m co-creating. That’s what I call myself, a co-creator with these people who are doing this, who see loneliness, they see brokenness, they see life as it ought not be because people are cutting friends off, cutting family members off over politics. I don’t know if that’s a problem here. I’d be curious to know if it is, but that’s a big problem in the US where you’re ending friendships, lifelong friendships, family, no contact with parents. Over politics, your view on the vaccine, your view on Donald Trump. And that is like self-sabotage. That is disordered loves. We are making the most important things the not important. And so people see those needs and they want to be part of the solution. So, I’m calling them to co-create with me.

Roger

I think a lot of artists have this image that they make work and they hope somebody is going to buy their painting or hope that someone’s going to hire them to come in and play for this event but don’t know how it fits into the bigger picture. But you’re saying that everyone has a role to play in building the kind of community to build the kind of city that we want to see. It’s so easy for us to get practical. Like, this is what I have to do to make a living. And this is my narrow pathway here. But it’s a much bigger vision, how it all fits together. Is that right?

Lexi

Yes. And I think that the message I would share with my co-creators, these civic leaders that I work with is also a message for artists as well, is that no effort to create beauty is ever wasted. It can be really easy to feel like it if the piece doesn’t sell, or if, you know, no one notices— I feel that sometimes. I feel like I work so hard and I’m like, does anyone even care? Is this working? Is this doing anything? And then I have to remind myself, no, the process is the point. Just the act of creation, the act of bringing goodness and beauty and truth into the world, that is its own reward.

Roger

You were talking about keeping the conversation going by continuing to meet with these people working in government and other business leaders and people like that. I can see how the arts can play a role in that as well. There’s tremendous power in the arts to bring people together over certain topics from a third-party perspective. It’s a safe way to create a platform for people to engage one another, I think.

So we’re almost out of time. People are going to start ringing the doorbell and coming in here. Is there anything you’d like to share before we end?

Lexi

The final chapter on my book argues—it’s on misplaced meaning and forgiveness—and it argues that we have made a religion out of politics, and that’s bad for democracy, bad for religion, bad for Christianity, bad for our souls. And I argue that we need to do things that give us life, that it’s not enough just to say love politics less. We have to do things to actively displace and replace a harmful affection. I’m getting this idea from Thomas Chalmers. He’s a Scottish theologian. He has an essay called “The Expulsive Power of a New Affection.” He says it’s not enough just to say, soul, love sin less. You have to cultivate love of God. That is what will permanently displace the love of the sin. Nature abhors a vacuum, he says. It’s not enough just to diagnose that we have an unhealthy attachment to politics and to toxicity that is poisoning our soul. What are some things we can proactively pursue that are more noble and life-giving? I talk about intellectual curiosity. I talk about friendship, especially friendship across difference. I talk about beauty and the sublime. Beauty is something that delights us. The sublime fills us with awe. It’s like, you know, a thunderstorm, waves crashing on the shore. It’s like staring up space at night and being humbled by this concept of infinity and giving us a sense of smallness. That is good for our souls. I’m on holiday here in Japan with my 3 children, and it’s hard to travel with 3 kids under 6, and it’s tiring. But I want them to know that the world is big and vast, and how we live every day is not the way that most of the world lives. That is humbling. It’s so beautiful. And I’m just so grateful to be here with you.

Roger

Yeah, that’s great. Well, how can people learn more about you?

Lexi

I host a newsletter intellectual community called Civic Renaissance. It’s about beauty, goodness, and truth, and reviving the wisdom of the past to help us lead better lives in the present. Please do consider joining me over at Civic Renaissance. It’s about taking ideas out of the ether and living them, like putting this work into practice now, and how can we live richer, more fulfilled lives and relationships now. And, of course, read my book, “The Soul of Civility.” I hope it’s an encouragement. If you are in Japan, and whether you’re Japanese or American or from the West, I want to hear your observations about how this distinction between civility and politeness applies here. I came here with a kind of working hypothesis. I’ve been all over the world talking about this distinction. I was like, what’s it going to be like going to the most polite society in the world? I hope that this does meet a need in some way here, because we need human dignity first. Just manners alone are not enough.

Roger

Well, thank you. I’m really looking forward to tonight and seeing the kind of discussions that we’re going to have. So thank you so much for sharing your time with us.

Lexi

My pleasure. Thanks for having us.

Roger

You’ve been listening to the Art, Life, Faith Podcast. And don’t forget to pick up your own copy of The Tsunami Violin, Pippy the Piano, and Aroma of Beauty. As we say in Japan, “Ja, mata ne!” We’ll see you next time.

No transcript available.