Author: Andrew Fiala

Andrew Fiala, Ph.D. is an expert on ethics and political philosophy. He is the author or editor of more than a dozen books and more than 50 scholarly articles. He has published hundreds of op-ed essays and newspaper columns. Fiala is Professor of Philosophy and Director of the Ethics Center at Fresno State. He gives frequent public lectures on topics related to ethics, ethical decision-making, ethical leadership, peace, politics, and religion. Fiala is past President of Concerned Philosophers for Peace. He is an internationally respected expert on the philosophy of peace, nonviolence, and pacifism; and a strong advocate for civility, religious liberty, and freedom of thought.
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Trumpian Eroticism and the Politics of Passion

Fresno Bee, March 9, 2025

How Donald Trump and Elon Musk inspire passions feared by America’s Founding Fathers

American politics has become deeply erotic. Often, this manifests as love — as when Elon Musk recently tweeted, “I love Trump, as much as a straight man can love another man.” In his recent address to Congress, President Donald Trump said: “People love our country again, it is very simple.” He extolled the “faith, love and spirit” of the American people, who “will never let anything happen to our beloved country.”

To say that Trump is an erotic leader does not mean he is “sexy.” Rather, the point is that he provokes. Trump inflames the emotions — whether you love him or hate him. He is the kind of person about whom it is nearly impossible to remain indifferent. He arouses rather than enlightens.

The erotic element shows up in various ways. Fealty and devotion of the Muskian sort are obviously forms of love. Nepotism and cronyism are erotic ways of distributing power to faithful friends and family members. In such arrangements, it does not matter whether things are fair or reasonable, nor does it matter whether people are good. Rather, what matters is love and connection.

Trump is making American politics a game of seduction and power — a spectacle driven by passion. Part of this is public performance. As Trump was berating Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy the other day, he said, “This is going to be great television.” The play of passion is enthralling and compelling: you can’t look away.

In a comment on the Zelenskyy episode, Canadian novelist Stephen Marche suggested we are witnessing “rule by performers,” and what he calls “histriocracy,” the rule of the “histrionic,” — the melodramatic, theatrical or emotional. Indeed, Trump is a master of spectacles, and he knows how to keep us watching.

The erotic art of arousal can be useful in business and in politics. But it is quite different from a more sober-minded or rational approach to the world.

The distinction between the erotic and the rational is as old as Plato, who worried that unbridled eros (sexual love or desire) would destroy a good city, and that passion would undermine justice. He warned that when eros rules a city (or a soul), it is like being drunk or mad. The rule of the erotic leads to lawlessness, frenzy and tyranny. Plato hoped rationality could control the passions, but he knew that eros was a powerful force.

Sober-minded folks view political discourse as an earnest discussion of justice, virtue and truth. Rational politics is sincere, honest and moderate. In the Platonic government, careful thinkers would deliberate using logical arguments that rest upon a bedrock of first principles and unassailable truths.

Passionate politics is different. It values histrionic performances that elicit emotional responses. Here, the participants seduce and cajole with the goal of achieving popular acclaim — which is, after all, a kind of love. The erotic approach rejects sedate sincerity in favor of impassioned public displays of power and affection. Erotic politics is more interested in glory than in goodness, and it encourages inspiring fantasy rather than dull deliberation.

Political eros is chaotic and unreasonable. Sometimes, it even becomes vulgar and obscene. The risk that passion will become excessive is part of what makes it exciting and fun. That’s why sober-minded rationalists don’t understand its allure and worry that the excitement of eros will lead to dangerous excess.

John Adams once warned about the “overbearing popularity” of “great men.” He said, “Ambition is one of the more ungovernable passions of the human heart. The love of power is insatiable and uncontrollable.”

Adams and the other Founding Fathers created a system of checks and balances to restrain the erotic element. Rationalists like Adams think that laws should rule, rather than love. They view passionate personalities as dangerous, and in need of restraint.

Eroticism sees such sober rationalism as boring and shallow. Typically, devoted lovers remain enamored of their charismatic champion — despite their flaws and lawlessness — and because of his passion. Indeed, those flaws may make this figure more beloved.

In erotic politics, people are wedded to the person of the leader, warts and all. This astounds sober-minded defenders of virtue and the rule of law. But in erotic politics, it makes perfect sense to remain devoted to the beloved, since love is love, no matter what.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article301565739.html#storylink=cpy

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The Power of Naming

Fresno Bee, Feb, 23, 2025

If Trump can rename the Gulf of Mexico, why can’t a trans person adopt a new name and pronoun?

Philosophers have long wondered about the nature of names.  Is there any essential way that words connect to the world?  Or are names merely arbitrary conventions made up for personal or political purposes? 

Donald Trump’s magical sharpie directs our attention to this perennial problem.  Trump’s signature on Executive Order 14172 (“Restoring Names That Honor American Greatness”), apparently suffices to rename things.  He turned Alaska’s Denali back into Mt. McKinley.  And he imposed a previously unheard-of name, “Gulf of America,” on the waters east of Mexico. 

In response, Mexico has threatened to sue.  And Americans are left wondering.  What is the true name of these things?  And who gets to decide? 

Most philosophers think names are merely conventional, and that there are no “true names.”  But mystics suggest that the true name of a thing provides a direct connection between word and object.  As one of Plato’s characters suggests, a thing’s true name is given by the gods.

A version of the “true name” idea can be found in Trump’s executive order about gender identity, which is named, in part, “Restoring Biological Truth To the Federal Government.”  The Order states that there has been an “ongoing and purposeful attack against the ordinary and longstanding use and understanding of biological and scientific terms.”  It states that “gender ideology” has resulted in “invalidating the true and biological category of ‘woman’.” 

But according to “ordinary and longstanding use and understanding,” the Gulf of Mexico is the name of the body of water in question. If the president can rename it by fiat, why can’t a person adopt a preferred pronoun or gender category in the same manner?

Naming is often about power, privilege and control. A biblical myth says that God gave Adam the power to name things along with dominion over the world. He who bestows names also owns and dominates them.

There is a kind of royal or religious prerogative in naming, christening and dubbing. Elaborate ceremonies are required to establish names and titles, and make subsequent changes. We see this in weddings, christenings and other rituals.

When power shifts, things are often renamed. The renaming is part of the point of acquiring power. The conqueror, after all, has the right to name what he has conquered.

Sometimes names are overtly practical. A “computer” computes and an “automobile” propels itself. A “bicycle” has two wheels, while a “tricycle” has three. Utilitarian and prosaic names function like “true names,” directly expressing the meaning of things.

But naming is often arbitrary and even whimsical. Elon Musk changed “Twitter” to “X,” which is also the name of one of his sons. Congressman Earl “Buddy” Carter has (absurdly) proposed renaming Greenland as “Red, White and Blueland.”

Some names have deep significance, as when a child is named after a departed loved one. Others inspire and edify. But other names are silly or insulting (as in the effort to rename Greenland).

Behind the words, of course, is the thing itself. This point was immortalized by Shakespeare, who asked, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.” Juliet’s love for Romeo is more substantial than their parents’ feud about names, titles and power. Juliet begs Romeo to refuse and deny his family name so that it will no longer be an obstacle to their relationship. Romeo responds by announcing he will be newly baptized under the name of “love.”

This angsty teenage romance reveals something deep and true: Authentic things — love, beauty and self-identity — exist beyond names. Disputes about names are contrived by the powerful to control, dominate and limit. But the names shouldn’t matter as much as the thing itself in all of its raw truth and natural glory.

Plato wondered whether we have direct access to the “real existence” of “things without names.” Perhaps we do. For swimmers in the seas east of Mexico, the name of the gulf they’re in is likely irrelevant. When Juliet and Romeo die in each other’s arms, their loving embrace transcends their family names.

But the history of the world is a struggle for the power of naming. That struggle begs us to consider what is true, what is real and who has the authority to name things.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article300673459.html#storylink=cpy

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Seeking Wisdom in the Trump-Storm

It is easy to become anxious as political chaos churns. The present turmoil can cause us to lose sight of basic truths. But enduring values provide shelter from the storm.

The pursuit of wisdom offers tranquility in tumultuous times. Philosophy and religion are essential these days. Solace can be found in a wide variety of what I call (allong with my co-author Doug Soccio), “Archetypes of Wisdom.”

One useful source is Stoicism. Seneca explains: “It is only philosophy that makes the mind invincible, and places us out of the reach of fortune… This it is that reclaims the rage of our lusts, and sweetens the anxiety of our fears.”

The present moment is a time of misfortune, rage, and anxiety. Headlines blare with crises and scandals. Constitutional guardrails are breached, as a servile Congress plays patty-cake with its rubber stamps. Bizarre ideas are broadcast from the White House. Every day brings some new outrage.

The chaos of the present appears to be strategic. Trumpism has been described by The Guardian as a “chaos machine.” The chaotic strategy was explained by Steve Bannon as “flooding the zone with shit.” Bannon more recently said that every day of the new Trump regime should be a “day of thunder.” Keeping people in a defensive and reactive posture prevents organized response.

Anxiety is an impediment to wisdom. Careful, deliberate thought supplies a source of calm in the blizzard of bullshit. For some it may help to have the anchor of faith. But nonreligious people can find serenity in philosophy, even as the tempest rages.

Pope Francis offered a recent bit of serene sagacity. In a letter to American bishops he repudiates a narrow and mean-spirited approach to immigration. Francis insists that the essence of Christianity is universal love: “Jesus Christ, loving everyone with a universal love, educates us in the permanent recognition of the dignity of every human being, without exception.”

The Pope appears to be replying to Vice President J.D. Vance’s defense of Trumpian deportations. Vance had invoked the Catholic concept of ordo amoris (the ordering of love) to defend his “America First” ideology. Vance explained, “You love your family and then you love your neighbor, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens in your own country, and then after that, you can focus [on] and prioritize the rest of the world.”

The Pope rebutted Vance, explaining, “Christian love is not a concentric expansion of interests that little by little extend to other persons and groups… The true ordo amoris that must be promoted is that which we discover by meditating constantly on the parable of the “Good Samaritan” (cf. Lk 10:25-37), that is, by meditating on the love that builds a fraternity open to all, without exception.”

Much more could be said about Christian love and the parable of the Good Samaritan (I’ve discussed some of this here and here). But what I want to emphasize is the temperate, transcendental tone of the Pope’s remarks—and the importance of this philosophical debate about love and dignity.

Philosophy and religion look beyond the squabbles of the present moment. In speaking of the “infinite and transcendent dignity” of the human person, the Pope invokes a set of values that rises above the petty disputes of the day. The Pope’s cosmopolitan ethic transcends national borders and political parties. His focus is on fundamental claims about universal human rights.

Pope Francis also rebukes political power. In his letter, he says, “What is built on the basis of force, and not on the truth about the equal dignity of every human being, begins badly and will end badly.” He explains that it is a distortion of genuine social life to focus on “the will of the strongest as the criterion of truth.”

These ideas are not unique to Francis or Catholicism. Plato also rejected the idea that power was the criterion of truth and justice. And the call for love of the neighbor and respect for human dignity can be found in other religious traditions, and in the secular notion of human rights. Eleanor Roosevelt tied these ideas together, saying, “We can establish no real trust between nations until we acknowledge the power of love above all other power.”

Let’s conclude with a call to seek insight in religion, philosophy, and the great archetypes of wisdom. The antidote to chaos is wisdom that transcends the moment. When the zone is flooded with shit, we rise above by remembering that true and good things endure. We should love our neighbors and strive to be just. The bullshit of the powerful, and the thunder of the loudmouths can be overwhelming. But when the storm is over, wisdom, truth, and justice will remain.

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Musk and Strangelove: Should we stop worrying and love the wood chipper?

Fresno Bee, Feb. 9, 2025

Should we worry about Elon Musk’s mandate to overhaul the government?  Musk is the world’s richest man.  He runs multiple companies.  Despite this workload, he has spare time for the Department of Government Efficiency.  He said this week that “DOGE is the wood chipper for bureaucracy.” 

Some may think Musk’s mandate should have been revoked after the strange Nazi salute incident.  But Musk gave nearly $300 million to Donald Trump’s campaign.  And the President likes him.  “Elon is doing a good job,” according to Trump, who also said, “He’s a smart guy. Very smart.”

This almost seems like some elaborate parody.  That old movie, “Dr. Strangelove,” comes to mind.  Dr. Strangelove was an expert consultant whose arm would spontaneously extend in a Nazi salute.  He had a bizarre plan to repopulate the earth after nuclear doomsday.  The satirical lesson of the film was to “stop worrying and learn to love the bomb.” 

Should we stop worrying?  When Joe Biden left office, he worried about oligarchy and technocracy.  In his farewell speech, he said, “Today, an oligarchy is taking shape in America of extreme wealth, power and influence that literally threatens our entire democracy.”  He further warned against, “a tech-industrial complex that could pose real dangers for our country.” 

Biden, of course, assumed that democracy is valuable in itself.  But is it?  Democracy is unstable and inefficient.  Congressional logjams and partisan bickering make it difficult to get things done.  Elections disrupt the status quo.  And we, the people disagree about what is valuable and true. 

Oligarchic technocrats may think that smart efficiency experts armed with artificial intelligence can do a better job than seasoned bureaucrats and elected officials.  The problem is that we fundamentally disagree about who is smart, and what kind of expertise is valuable.  And as we are seeing, wealth buys access for cronies and kooks, while creating a facade of intelligence.

These are the fatal flaws of so-called “epistocracy,” which is a fancy word meaning “rule of experts.”  This idea goes back to Plato, who thought that the ideal society would be ruled by a wise and virtuous philosopher-king.  But there are no wise and benevolent kings.  We disagree about what counts as wisdom and virtue.  And rich oligarchs are good at pretending to care.

Jason Brennan, a professor at Georgetown University, has defended epistocracy, arguing that democracy fails because it empowers ignorant, disengaged “hobbits” and reckless, ideological “hooligans.” Brennan explains that in a democracy we put our fate “in the hands of ignorant, misinformed, irrational, biased, and sometimes immoral decision makers.”  Brennan’s solution is “rule of the knowers.” 

Expertise is obviously valuable.  We want experienced pilots to fly our planes, and smart dentists to fix our teeth.  But expertise in one domain does not necessarily transfer to another.  We don’t want dentists to fly our planes, or pilots to fill our teeth. 

Nor are experts politically or morally neutral.  Experts are mere mortals.  They have values, interests, and biases.  Smart people disagree about all kinds of things.  And sometimes even smart people do dumb things.

That’s why there ought to be checks and balances.  As James Madison said, “If men were angels, no government would be necessary. If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary.”  The system of checks and balances is designed for a world of hobbits, hooligans, and cronies.

Moreover, the government is not a business, an airplane, or a dentist’s office.  The law is not a machine to be tinkered with by engineers or a system to be hacked by technocratic geeks.  Rather, the legal system expresses and defends fundamental values.  It is itself the result of historical struggles for justice.  Democratic government ought to reflect the will of the people, as expressed through elections that authorize elected leaders to make decisions on our behalf and in the name of the common good. 

Biden’s warning of doomsday for democracy is worth revisiting.  But by the time Dr. Strangelove takes center stage, it may already be too late.  One hopes that our system of checks and balances is resilient enough to survive the chainsaw.  If not, we may have no choice than to stop worrying and learn to love the wood chipper. 

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The Fallacy of a Golden Age

Fresno Bee February 02, 2025

Trump’s ‘golden age’ dream is a fallacy, and the golden chariot is already stuck in the mud.

In his inaugural speech, President Donald Trump said, “The golden age of America begins right now.” Really? History is haphazard. Human beings are flawed. Powers rise and fall. Every action provokes a reaction. There never was — and there never will be — a golden age.

The White House marketing department would beg to differ: It described Trump’s first 100 hours as “Historic Action to Kick Off America’s Golden Age.” On the official White House website, a large, dramatic picture of Trump includes the motto “America is Back.” Under the motto it says, “This will truly be the golden age of America.”

But the golden chariot is already stuck in the mud. Chaos ensued immediately after Trump’s initial frenzy of executive orders, firings and funding freezes. Critics lambasted the January 6 pardons. A federal judge said Trump’s plan to end birth-right citizenship was “blatantly unconstitutional.” And pundits howled about authoritarianism, fascism and the like. In The New York Times, columnist Jamelle Bouie said Trump “wants to remake the government in his image. He wants to be king.”

Maybe that royal fantasy is at the heart of all the golden age rhetoric. Trump likes glitzy, gold-plated regalia. But I’m not convinced there is any grand strategy behind Trump’s gilded dreams. It seems more like he is throwing stuff against the wall to find out what sticks.

And that’s pretty much politics as usual: You try something. You see what you can get away with. The opposition pushes back. The lawyers get to work. And, in four years, we do it all over again.

The greed, graft and grime of humanity reduces any talk of a golden age to absurdity. In proclaiming a utopia, you will provoke inevitable backlash. Human beings are contrarian. If you say it’s perfect, I’ll say it’s flawed. We nay-say out of spite — or just for fun. Politicians turn this dialectic into performance art.

At any rate, the world is more complicated than Trumpian alchemy admits. Human lead cannot be turned into gold. The philosophers tell us that the crooked timber of humanity cannot be made straight. Applying gilded paint to crooked wood cannot conjure up a golden age.

The Founding Fathers understood this. The Constitution is designed for flawed humanity. As I explained in my book, “Tyranny from Plato to Trump: Fools, Sycophants and Citizens,” the Framers understood that human beings were not angels. They wanted to prevent the apotheosis of any mortal human being as tyrant or king. That’s why they instituted the separation of powers. As James Madison explained, “Ambition must be made to counteract ambition.”

The Framers also warned against the naïve fantasy of a golden age. Alexander Hamilton suggested it was a “fallacy” to ignore the “imperfections, weakness and evils” of humankind. He asked: “Is it not time to awake from the deceitful dream of a golden age, and to adopt as a practical maxim for the direction of our political conduct, that we, as well as the other inhabitants of the globe, are yet remote from the happy empire of perfect wisdom and perfect virtue?”

Trump is pushing the limits of Constitutional checks and balances. But those safeguards are already pushing back. Let’s hope they are sturdy enough to withstand this onslaught. It can help to study Hamilton’s claim that the gilded pipe dream is devious and dangerous.

The hallucination of utopia is at the root of many evils. It can lead to complacency or fanaticism, but none of us is perfectly wise or virtuous. And in the real world, there is no substitute for humility and hard work.

Hamilton warned that unwise leaders cause chaos when personal ambition runs amok. As he puts it, leaders “have, in too many instances, abused the confidence they possessed; and assuming the pretext of some public motive, have not scrupled to sacrifice the national tranquility to personal advantage or personal gratification.”

Which leads us back to the present pandemonium. It is ironic that the muck of the moment was introduced by Trump’s ambitious plan for a golden age. One hopes the president realizes that leadership is not marketing. It requires prudence and expertise. In a democracy, it also depends upon compromise and consultation. Wisdom humbly admits imperfection, and virtue is more substantial than any gilded dream.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article299445559.html#storylink=cpy