Tag: Plato

Posted on

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. 

Posted on

Democracy and Its Discontents: Trump, Harris, and the need for wisdom

Fresno Bee, October 27, 2024

No matter who wins in November, we must remain committed to wisdom, virtue and truth.

Our democracy is in big trouble. Each side fears the apocalypse, should their party lose the presidential election next month.

Some never-Trumpers, like Donald Trump’s former lawyer Michael Cohen, have stated that, if Trump wins, they will leave the country, given that Trump has repeatedly promised to prosecute or punish his enemies if elected. The other day, a friend of mine said he was hoping to leave the U.S. no matter who wins, since this election shows that our democratic society is doomed.

Republican partisans believe Trump has been unjustly persecuted by the deep state and “the enemy from within,” as Trump puts it. They think Trump’s felonies are fake news, and that a Democratic victory would empower “Marxists, communists and fascists” to ruin the country. They agree with J.D. Vance that “big tech rigged the 2020 election,” and they agree with Trump that the Jan. 6 convicts are really “political prisoners,” “hostages” and “unbelievable patriots.”

The other party warns that all of this represents a fundamental threat to our republic. Vice President Kamala Harris recently said that Trump “admires dictators and is a fascist.” The Democrats complain that Trump stacked the Supreme Court with partisan hacks and warn of authoritarianism, nepotism and corruption should Trump and his cronies return to the White House. At a fundamental level, Democratic partisans find it hard to believe that any sane person could support Trump.

For the partisans, this election represents an existential crisis of historical proportions. But while the partisans fret, a sizable minority of people don’t even bother to vote. According to the Pew Research Center, a third of the voting-eligible population did not vote in 2020; one in three Americans did not participate in the election that gave birth to endless controversy, insurrectionist activity and ongoing angst.

For those unmotivated voters, the past several years — and maybe democracy itself — is a mug’s game, not worth their time. And so we have a fundamental impasse: A third of the people don’t care enough to vote. The rest are polarized and paranoid.

This is no way to run a country.

The philosophical take-away is that there is no perfect social or political system. That’s because human beings are fundamentally flawed — we lack wisdom and virtue. A few people are evil and corrupt, while many others are lazy, ignorant and self-interested. On occasion, a few rare souls rise above the muck. But there are always more sinners than saints.

This recognition of our flawed humanity is what led the Founding Fathers to set up a Constitution with checks and balances and a separation of powers. But this system is frustratingly imperfect, and we should not forget that Americans fought a bloody civil war as we struggled to form “a more perfect union.”

Approximately 2,500 years ago, Plato argued that democracy was among the worst forms of government, as it empowered the moronic mob. His solution was a government ruled by wise and virtuous philosopher-kings. But we know now that monarchic power is as dangerous as mob rule. Which leaves us, frankly, without a perfect solution. As they say, democracy is the worst form of government, except for all the others.

But democracy can be improved. We do that by educating citizens in virtue and wisdom.

In the ideal world, citizens would vote out of a sense of duty. Voters would use the cool light of reason to assess the merits of each candidate, guided overall by a common sense of truth and value. They would put the common good above their own self-interest, and honor and respect the sincerity and rationality of other voters — even those with whom they disagree. And when the election was over, they would accept the results and remain committed to the fairness of the system and the rule of law.

Alas, we don’t live in an ideal world. A fortunate few may imagine leaving the country as our democracy founders. But in reality, there is no better place to go. Human nature follows us wherever we are. And there is no perfect political system.

The task at hand is to learn from our present crisis, to work incrementally to rebuild a broken society and to remain committed to wisdom, virtue and truth, no matter who wins in November.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article294485719.html#storylink=cpy

Posted on

Is Justice Impartial or is Trump Right about Power Run Amok?

Fresno Bee, April 21, 2024

Skepticism about the Trump trials extends to cynicism about the entire political system

Can justice be impartial? This is an ancient question raised anew by the trials of Donald Trump, who has denigrated his indictments as politically motivated “witch hunts.” In Trump’s telling, this is all the work of biased prosecutors and “crooked” or “corrupt” judges.

Trump does not say that he will be vindicated in court by showing evidence and making arguments before the jury. Rather, our leading candidate for president casts doubt on the impartiality of the judicial system itself.

For Trump, justice is primarily a matter of power. He has said he will go after “the Biden crime family” if elected. He used to say he wanted to lock up Hilary Clinton. The Trumpian theory is that whoever is in power gets to punish those who are not in power.

This is an ancient idea. In Plato’s Republic, it is articulated by a character named Thrasymachus, a Greek name that means something like “fierce fighter.” Thrasymachus says justice is whatever the stronger party says it is. Plato rejects this as a tyrannical idea.

As I discuss in my book on Trump and tyranny, a tyrant desires the godlike power to create the law in his own image. This way of conceiving justice is based on bad theology and a pernicious view of political life. God is not a tyrant who arbitrarily makes up the law, but human tyrants and tyrannical regimes do behave in this capricious way.

The antidote to the tyrannical idea of justice is natural law and natural rights. Natural law holds that actions are objectively right or wrong, and that the legal system ought to administer justice impartially. On this theory, there is an objective truth of the matter, and punishments are meant to fit the crime.

A related idea focuses on producing good social consequences by using punishment to deter crime. This approach depends upon a general commitment to the rule of law as a good thing for individuals and society. But there are limits to what can be done in pursuit of “domestic tranquility.” Terrifying and arbitrary punishments may work to “scare people straight,” as the saying goes, but the Eighth Amendment of the Constitution prohibits the sorts of cruel and unusual punishments used by tyrannical regimes.

Further, a stable political and legal system depends upon basic standards of evidence and proof. Such a system assumes (for the most part) an objective account of knowledge and truth. This assumption holds that facts exist and that reasonable people — a jury of your peers — will tend to agree about evidence and argument.

But when people do not agree about the status of the evidence, the arguments or the value of the law itself, there is the risk of chaos and violence. Cynics will claim that since the whole thing is a farce and there is no such thing as objective justice, then there is nothing left but struggles for power.

This seems to be the point of the Trumpian effort to muddy the water with regard to proof, evidence, facts and institutions. Trumpians suggest that there are “alternative facts” and “fake news.” They claim that the system is a “swamp” that needs to be drained. In this environment, skepticism about the Trump trials extends to cynicism about the entire political system, including the electoral process. Thus, those jailed for their criminal acts on January 6 become “hostages” captured by those in power, whom Trump has pledged to pardon.

With all of this on the table, it is clear that the Trump trials are of the utmost importance for the body politic. These are public performances of the law in which impartiality, objectivity and justice are themselves on trial. The audience for this trial is “we, the people.” As these trials unfold, we must ask ourselves about our faith in the system: Is the criminal justice system a travesty of power run amok? Or is it possible for justice to be neutral, objective and truthful?

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article287736320.html#storylink=cpy

Posted on

The Illusion of Nostalgia

Fresno Bee, June 25, 2023

A new study called “The Illusion of Moral Decline” suggests that we are morally better than our ancestors, even though we think we are worse. The study by psychologists Adam Mastroianni and Dan Gilbert maintains, “On average, modern humans treat each other far better than their forebears ever did.” Their focus is on kindness, honesty and similar personal virtues.

We might add that political and social life is also better. Slavery was abolished. Women were liberated. And science, medicine, and technology have improved.

Despite this, a recent survey from the Pew Center concludes that most Americans think the past was better, with 58% of us saying that life is worse today than 50 years ago. In response, columnist Jonah Goldberg argued that nostalgia is a “terrible guide” for social and political judgment. He reminds us that crime is down, people are generally richer, infant mortality rates are better, and workplace safety has improved.

So why are we so fond of what we see in the rear-view mirror? If things are better, why do we think they are worse? Mastroianni and Gilbert explain that psychological biases cloud our judgment. We have limited information and selective memories.

I suspect religion, politics, and marketing also play a part. Religions emphasize the holiness of their founders. Americans also celebrate the wisdom of the founding fathers. And political parties promise to return us to past greatness. Nostalgia is often used to sell us a product.

Poets and artists also tend to paint yesteryear in sepia tones that reek of longing. Herman Melville wrote, “How lovely was the light of heaven, what angels leaned from out the sky, in years when youth was more than wine, and man and nature felt divine.”

Nostalgia and a sense of decline are common throughout history. The Taoists of ancient China spoke of a prior generation of “true men,” who lived in harmony with heaven. And Plato and the ancient Greeks spoke of a Golden Age, and the lost utopia of Atlantis.

Nostalgia makes sense when the present is chaotic. The Athenians of Plato’s era lived in a time of war, plague, and political turmoil. They imagined the Golden Age as an ideal alternative to a tumultuous present.

Perhaps that explains our present moment. We’re suffering through the aftereffects of the pandemic and the polarization of the Trump years. There is war in Europe. The Earth’s climate is changing. There have been rapid shifts in cultural identity. It is not surprising that folks think it would be nice to go back to a simpler, more stable time.

But no such simpler time has ever existed. Nor will the future be stable. The world is built of crooked timber. It has never been perfect. Nor can we expect it to be.

A Woody Allen film called “Midnight in Paris” is worth watching in this regard. In the film, a modern American is transported back to the 1920s, where he hangs out with the heroes of the Jazz Age. There he meets a woman who fantasizes about the “Belle Epoque” of the 19th century. They jump back in time and discover that in the 19th century, artists were nostalgic for the Renaissance.

We might note that the Renaissance was based on admiration for the ancient Greeks and Romans. Each generation is afflicted by nostalgia.

The truth is that we cannot go back. We cannot recreate what is lost to time. We should learn from history. But we should also learn to let it go. What’s past is past. Life unfolds in the present.

And if you think things are worse today, despite the evidence, that really means there is work to do. Rather than lamenting the lost angels of youth, and the heroes of the Golden Age, we should embrace the challenge of improving ourselves and creating a better future.

Nostalgia is misplaced idealism. In seeing the imperfections of the present, we pine for the past. But the past was never perfect. And if the present is better, it can still be further improved. Once we stop gazing in the mirror, we should get to work to build a future that is a bit less crooked, and a bit closer to the ideal.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article276697551.html#storylink=cpy

Posted on

How old is too old? The promise and perils of gerontocracy

Fresno Bee, Nov. 27, 2022

Is Joe Biden getting too old to be president? There is wisdom in a gracious exit

How old is too old? After Nancy Pelosi announced she was stepping down, at age 82, as the leader of House Democrats, people wondered whether President Biden should follow her lead. Biden turned 80 this week. He is the oldest president we’ve ever had. If he runs for re-election, he would be 86 at the end of a second term.

Some pundits asked whether Biden’s age would affect his ability to do the job. It is natural to wonder about the vitality of octogenarians. We should also consider the question of fairness and the importance of generational shifts. It is wise for older folks to prepare to pass the torch.

There is some truth to the claim that age is just a number. Some 90-year-olds are healthy, smart and engaged. Aging is a matter of probabilities. The odds stack up against us as the years pass. Good genes and good habits can change those odds. There is no on/off switch that suddenly clicks at 80. But vision, hearing, mobility and memory do tend to decline over time.

And yet, there is also some truth to the idea that we gain wisdom as we age. This is not true of everyone. But we can learn from experience. The passage of time provides a sense of perspective and proportion. What appears as a novel crisis for a 20-year-old is “more of the same” for someone who is 80.

Most traditions imagine that wisdom and old age are connected. Plato suggested that as the burning desires of youth are quenched, the mind is set free to focus on higher things. Confucius said something similar. According to Confucius, it is not until we reach 70 that virtue and desire come together. The sages of the ancient world were old folks with a faraway look in their eyes.

Some cultures also value “gerontocracy,” which is a fancy word for rule by elders. This may work well, if our elders are wise and civic-minded. But gerontocracy may also create a system in which crabby old geezers cling to power, refusing to make way for new ideas.

Aristotle was critical of gerontocracy for that reason. He criticized the idea of lifetime tenure for judges, for example. He said, “there is old age of mind as well as of body.” He suggested that some people may be too old to judge wisely. A

nd what about fairness? If one generation dominates leadership positions, is that fair to those in other generations? When Nancy Pelosi announced she was stepping down, she said, “the hour has come for a new generation to lead.”

This is a nice way of putting it. There comes a time, when elders need to make way for the next generation. There is no alarm clock that tells us when that moment has arrived. But it is wise to keep the succession process in mind and to plan for passing the torch.

One rationale for this generational hand-off has to do with creativity and innovation. Human beings are creatures of habit. We tend to prefer the stability of well-worn ruts. But in politics, business, and art, those ruts can become quagmires. Organizations need fresh ideas and new blood.

And what about the ambitions of those who are waiting in the wings? The understudies need their chance to shine. But when the old guard hogs the limelight, the back-ups never get to learn how to play the lead.

This applies to all fields of human endeavor, including sports. In the NFL, the generation of Aaron Rodgers and Tom Brady is ending. It’s sad to watch former heroes fall into mediocrity. And the second stringers need playing time in order to get good at the game.

Of course, we understand why Brady, Rodgers, Pelosi, and Biden want to stay in the game. It’s fun to play. And they have talents they want to share. There is also a crew of agents and sycophants who have vested interests in keeping the old guard in place.

But as Ecclesiastes puts it, “for everything there is a season.” It is wise to make a graceful early exit than to linger too long at the party, while clinging to fading glory.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article269144787.html#storylink=cpy