Category: Fresno Bee Religion and Ethics Columns

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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Some may think Musk’s mandate should have been revoked after the strange Nazi salute incident.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

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Wisdom from the flames: seeking perennial lessons from the Los Angeles fires

Seneca in flames

Fresno Bee, January 19, 2025

Human existence is precarious. Our vulnerability demands that we be intelligent and moral. If we were indestructible, we would not need to be prudent, courageous or kind. But fragile, mortal beings should strive to be smart, brave and compassionate.

These are the moral lessons of disaster. And we are learning them again as fires rage in Southern California. We must stop the flames and comfort the afflicted. Once the smoke clears, we ought to ask what we can learn about living well in a flammable world.

Let’s begin with intelligent action: Intelligence offers the best protection from adversity and bad luck. As America’s philosopher of democracy John Dewey once said, “Luck will always be with us. But it has a way of favoring the intelligent and showing its back to the stupid.”

Intelligent animals engage the world with creative ingenuity, while unintelligent beasts fail to adapt to misfortune. Dumb brutes keep beating their heads against the wall. But intelligent beings identify problems, understand causality and respond with imagination.

Gov. Gavin Newsom responded to this problem in a letter he wrote to President-elect Donald Trump, inviting him to visit the fires currently ravaging Southern California.

“We must not politicize human tragedy or spread disinformation from the sidelines,” Newsom wrote. This was apparently in response to Trump’s false claims about how California water policy supposedly contributed to the conflagrations.

Human intellect is amazing. We have produced complex systems of knowledge and tools which have allowed us to master misfortune. One remarkable fact about the L.A. fires is that (thankfully, so far) many people escaped the flames. Without our communications infrastructure and other technologies, including modern firefighting, things could have been worse.

Our intelligence has allowed us to dominate much of the earth. When the earth bites back, we need to adapt with further intelligent action. It is not smart to build — or rebuild — fragile houses in vulnerable areas. And we have also, frankly, not been wise about development and climate change. Future generations may wonder why, despite our intelligence, we are often so dumb.

Our stupidity is linked to a larger epistemic crisis. Expertise and knowledge are devalued and politicized. Misinformation and disinformation proliferate. Polarization and distrust make it difficult to achieve consensus.

Getting smarter will require cultural, political and ethical change. The epistemic crisis is a political and cultural crisis as well as a moral problem. To make intelligent decisions and prepare for future emergencies, we need to solve our social and political dysfunction. We need a better understanding of science and more critical thinking. We also need a healthy dose of common sense.

Disasters are occasions for clarifying our values. The Stoic philosopher Seneca said, “disaster is virtue’s opportunity.” He meant that when disaster strikes. our moral fiber is tested, and our virtues and vices are revealed. Misfortune demands that we demonstrate who we are and what we value.

It is encouraging, in this regard, to see outpourings of compassion and kindness, as the fires rage. Natural disasters inspire a kind of “There but for the grace of God go I” humility and empathy. No home is absolutely disaster-proof; fire is an indiscriminate destroyer. The morality of the Good Samaritan and the Golden Rule obviously apply in cases like these.

Compassion and care are obviously needed in a disaster. That’s why it is alarming to see opportunists take advantage of misfortune. Looting and price-gouging pile wickedness on top of calamity. And it is shameful to score cheap political points while the flames still burn.

Natural disasters ultimately remind us of perennial wisdom about wealth and possession. Everything we own, and everyone we love, will eventually fade away. So it is wise not to cling. It is better to acknowledge the fundamental impermanence of things. Enjoy what you’ve got, cherish what is irreplaceable, but bravely prepare to lose what was never truly yours to begin with.

The lessons learned from disaster apply across the whole of life. Intelligent beings should prepare for the worst, while developing our better angels. It is prudent to prepare a “go bag.” In this combustible world, we also need ethical and spiritual preparation. Nothing lasts forever. But virtue is more durable than any finite, flammable good.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article298650503.html#storylink=cpy

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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

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The Ghost of Christmas Future: Artificial Intelligence, Santa Claus, and Holiday Magic

Artificial intelligence is now part of the magic of Christmas and it’s sweetly weird

Fresno Bee, Dec. 15, 2024

Artificial intelligence is now part of the magic of Christmas. I recently made a video call to an AI Santa. Santa sat by a roaring fire and chatted with me about reindeer, elves and his penchant for cookies and cocoa. I asked him to bring world peace for Christmas. He told me I was kind to ask for such a wonderful thing.

This was fun and charming — and a little weird. But this cute example is just the tip of the AI iceberg. In the future, we may routinely call AI friends, coaches and advisors. This will put real people out of business. It is much easier to visit AI Santa than to fight the masses at the mall. Virtual Santa may leave portly white-bearded men out of work.

Beyond the immediate ramifications of AI Santa are deeper questions about imagination and belief — a great Christmastime topic. Christmas calls for the “voluntary suspension of disbelief.” A common theme in Christmas movies is that for Christmas to happen, you must choose to believe.

This is mostly harmless: We suspend belief quite often in culture and the arts. We choose to believe when we enter the world of a novel, a movie or a theater production. At Christmas, voluntary suspension of disbelief kicks into high gear. The imagination’s ability to jump into a fantasy world is what allows art and AI to happen.

When you chat with an AI avatar, you enter the world inside the screen. AI makes this easier and more realistic than cinema or theater. By responding in real time to your presence, AI lures you into an imagined world. As this technology improves, some people could end up mistaking artifice for reality.

Christmas also involves what scholars call “motivated belief,” something we believe because we want it to be true. At some point, kids start to suspect that Santa isn’t real. But kids may play along because they want the Christmas goodies. The myths of Christmas encourage this, telling children that their belief in Santa is part of the process.

We all do this from time to time: Despite the evidence, we believe things that support our desires or preconceptions. It is often benign. But conspiracy theories, cults and superstitions also work this way. These beliefs are supported by an elaborate network of rationalization and confabulation. When they are challenged, the motivated believer explains away the counter-evidence and accuses the challenger of spreading fake news.

At Christmas, the imagination is beguiled by a network of trickery and tomfoolery. To support the Santa story, we make a big show of pretending that all kinds of phony stuff is real — from flying reindeer to elves. Parents construct an elaborate ruse involving the Elf on the Shelf, letters to Santa and a trip to the mall to visit Santa (or a trip to the computer to chat with AI Santa). It all leads up to a big Christmas Eve finale and the magic of Christmas morning.

This is all good fun. But the season of believing opens lots of questions about culture and belief, myth and magic. A culture is, after all, an elaborate game in which we all collaborate. In a sense, culture is “artificial,” a kind of art and artifice in which we construct meaning. Artificial intelligence is the latest and most sophisticated example of how this works.

As long as we understand the difference between what is real and what is phony, it is amusing to play along. But we should worry that in the AI era some people will confuse artifice with reality. It would be tragic if people mistook artificial friendship for the real thing. And it is dangerous when fake news seems as true or real as actual facts.

We need to do our best to keep all of this straight. And perhaps Christmas can help. In this magical season, take time to enjoy the show. Try out AI Santa, or make a wish for world peace. But when the show ends, ask what you’ve learned about the human imagination and about the difference between wishful thinking and the truth.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article296998234.html#storylink=cpy