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

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

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.

Wisdom and Grace in the New Year

Fresno Bee, Dec. 29, 2024

The transition to a new year is an opportunity to begin again. It is also a time to reflect on days gone by. This process is important, and teaches us lessons in virtue. Life is a series of stops and starts. As the calendar changes, we can practice ending well, and beginning again.

Change is difficult. We clutch tightly to the present. We dwell on the past. And we fear the future. The solution is to love without clinging, to live without fear, and when the time comes, to leave without complaint.

The world’s wisdom traditions often describe life as a process of ending and beginning. The Taoist sage Lao-Tzu said, “Death and birth, ending and beginning are nothing more than the sequence of day and night.” He saw good fortune and bad luck as trifling changes in the eternal flow of things.

The geniuses of living are masters at riding that flow. They manage change with skill and grace. They savor what is, cherish what was, and stride confidently into the unfinished future. Virtuous sages recall the past without nostalgia. They greet the dawn with joy. They are grateful for what they receive. And when the time comes to depart, they take a bow and move along.

Ending things requires courage. It hurts to say farewell. But all good things must end. When the party’s over, it’s time for a brave goodbye. It is not wise to linger too long in parting.

The bittersweetness of leaving is simply part of life. Children move out. Careers end. And friends pass away. This is difficult. But there is a stark purity in closing the door on the past. In some cases, the emptiness of the end comes as a relief. In other cases, the end comes too soon, causing profound suffering.

For a Taoist sage, there is the right time to mourn and then it’s time to move along. For the rest of us, it’s not so easy to let go. Grief is part of life. But it should not become an anchor that ties us to what no longer exists.

The challenge is to accept the inevitability of change, while turning a loss into an opportunity. Starting anew requires courage, and a creative spirit. As we make our new year’s resolutions, we seek to innovate and renew. A resolution is a promise to the future.

New challenges will require us to make a few adjustments. We ought to keep our promises. But there is no telling what might happen. The world will throw up impediments to our resolve. There will be good luck and misfortune. We ought to hope to keep an even keel and persevere through these changes.

Virtues like steadfastness and fortitude help us to remain constant and true. But fortitude without flexibility can become stiff. There is value in keeping your resolutions. But the geniuses of living are not slaves to their promises. They have a kind of free intelligence that is both consistent and accommodating. They embrace the next moment with open arms, while also remaining steady.

The Stoic sage Marcus Aurelius taught that we should accept what happens, while staying true. It is easy to lose yourself and lie to yourself. The difficult task is to remain who you are, while going with the flow.

A curious and open mind is essential. This helps us start something new. The curious mind is interested in what the future may bring. A related virtue is zest or enthusiasm. This is creative and forward-looking energy. It is the gusto or ambition that causes you to jump out of bed in the morning and welcome the day.

The new year offers a fresh start. This is an opportunity to erase some bad habits and write a new chapter. It can help to consult ancient wisdom traditions such as Taoism or Stoicism. But books and sayings are less important than common sense.

Life is full of hellos and goodbyes. The challenge of living well is to balance change and continuity. As we make our resolutions and look back on the past year, we should aim to keep what’s good, welcome the better, and let go of what we no longer need.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article297625698.html#storylink=cpy

The Second Coming of Donald Trump and The Temptation of Hyperbole

Trump 2.0 will no doubt be as chaotic as Trump 1.0. But despite the hyperbolic effusions of the political class, the country will likely stumble along, divided among red and blue partisans and another third who simply don’t care (as I discussed in a recent column). The American Republic will not collapse with Trump’s political resurrection. Nor has the messiah returned with Trump’s second coming.

We would be wise to avoid hyperventilating and to keep things in perspective. On both left and right, the tendency to exaggerate can undermine critical thinking. 

Trump is among the worst of those who exaggerate and embellish. In his victory speech Trump said, “God spared my life for a reason.” And, “This will truly be the golden age of America.” Trump’s Christian followers were even more direct. Christian nationalist firebrand Charlie Kirk saw in Trump’s victory the “Grace of God.” And Trump’s former spiritual advisor Paula White-Cain said of Trump, ““I declare tonight that your victory is found in Jesus Christ! Rest in Him – He has you, in the name of Jesus!”

Among the less zealous right-wing commentary, there was a tendency to exaggerate the significance of Trump’s victory. Consider, the smug conclusion reached by Peggy Noonan in the Wall Street Journal, who claimed that Trump’s victory meant that “America, after its long journey through the 2010’s and 20’s, is becoming more conservative again.” 

On the other side, Trump’s victory brought forth lots of dire doomsaying. In The New Republic a column by Edith Olmsted proclaimed, “Americans just elected a fascist to the White House.” Another column by Ray Marcano said democracy “died on Nov. 6, 2024. It was 248 years old.” 

Pundits and politicians are often loose with their language. Everyone can be tempted by hyperbole. But it behooves us to be more careful and precise, and to avoid the Trumpian trumpet.

I’ll leave an extended critique of the theological bluster for another column (and my forthcoming book on Christian nationalism). But suffice it to say that the American Constitution is a secular document whose First Amendment prevents the establishment of anything like Christian nationalism. I might add that God must work in quite mysterious ways to have hand-picked someone like Trump as an instrument of His will.

Now let’s think critically about the hyperbole of the secular press. Consider Peggy Noonan’s claim about the triumph of conservatism. To say that Trump’s election is a conservative victory requires lots of qualification. Conservatives like Mike Pence  and other never-Trumpers refused to endorse Trump, whose lack of moral fiber and indifference to truth is far from conservative.

The hyperventilating of the left-wing commentariat is also problematic. To say that democracy died as a result of this election is absurd. This election was fair—despite the fact that it was Trump who kept warning of rigged elections and who threatened the existence of democracy when he disputed the 2020 election. His victory in 2024 was a democratic result.

I understand the fear that Trump will undermine this system. He certainly challenged our democracy in 2020. He was wrong then. But so far, the electoral system continues to work. Trump left office then. He returned now through a legitimate process. We ought to have faith that this system will continue to operate in the future. Trump has made threats that may undermine the Constitution. The Supreme Court has offered a broad kind of immunity that might facilitate wrongdoing. And Trump will most likely prevent further investigation into his first administration. This is dispiriting. And we should remain vigilant. But democracy ain’t dead yet. 

Left-wingers also ought to be cautious in invoking words like tyranny or fascism—and the idea of “resistance” to Trump 2.0. In a post-election column Robert Reich called for “peaceful and nonviolent” resistance to Trump. He said, “We the people will resist tyranny.” And, “We will resist Donald Trump’s tyranny.”

In my book on Trump and tyranny I argued for caution with the T-word. Trump was at most a would-be tyrant with a flawed personality. But he was (and is) constrained by our Constitutional system from consolidating power into full-fledged tyranny. 

These Constitutional brakes may be wearing thin. But the system worked to prevent Trump 1.0 from subverting democracy. I agree when Reich calls for a peaceful and nonviolent response to the threat of tyranny. But it would better to describe this simply as adherence to the Constitution and its anti-tyrannical fundamentals. The separation of powers was designed to resist tyranny. This system should be embraced and strengthened. But we should be careful with loose talk about tyranny and resistance, lest our thinking become less peaceful and more extreme.

Which brings me to the F-word. During the 2024 campaign each side accused the other of fascism. The term has become a catch-all pejorative divorced from its original significance. Fascism is an authoritarian political movement that desecrates fundamental liberties in the name of ethnic-nationalist ideology. It is militaristic and state-centered. And it is dependent upon fanatical true-believers and ideologues.

It is true that Trump called his opponents (including the press), enemies of the people and that he hinted at violence and threatened his enemies with revenge. That essay in The New Republic that said a fascist has been elected to the White House lists a long litany of Trump’s dangerously transgressive language. There may be some MAGA true believers who want to see Trump embrace violent ideas that even he described as “dark.” And some Christian nationalists do in fact dream of overthrowing our secular system.

But I doubt that the majority of the Americans who voted for Trump are fascists who would support a Trump regime that tore up the Constitution, fomented violence, and persecuted religious minorities. There are Christian nationalists in our country, as well as sexists, racists, and other sordid characters. There always have been. But it is hyperbolic to suggest that the majority of Trump’s voters would support or tolerate the creation of a MAGA gestapo or the overthrow of the Constitution. 

I could be wrong. History and human nature are unpredictable. In a symposium on my Trump book, a number of my critics suggested I was naïve and overly sanguine in my analysis of the Trump era. With Trump’s second coming, those critics might prove to be right. So let me conclude by saying that while I think we ought to be moderate and careful in our language, we also ought not be naïve. The danger of tyranny is as old as Plato, who pointed out that the moronic masses can end up voting a tyrant into power. This problem is real. No democracy lasts forever. Nothing human does. 

But there is stability in the American system, which was designed to prevent tyranny. It also helps to know that many conservatives agree with liberals that Trump 2.0 will be dangerous. I suspect that those conservatives would also agree with me that the theological fervor around Trump is both blasphemous and un-American.

Democracy is not dead yet. But we must remain vigilant.