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

Practice gratitude and live a grateful life

Fresno Bee, December 26, 2021

The holiday season encourages us to practice gratitude. One way to lean into gratitude is to celebrate the lost art of writing thank-you notes. A good thank-you is more than a text message saying “Thanx.”

I learned this from the women in my life who are role models of gracious gratitude. My grandmothers always sent handwritten cards and notes. My mother’s artful cursive gives style to her thank-yous. My wife writes lots of thoughtful thank-you notes.

We forced our children to put pen to paper after Christmas and birthdays. They seem to have learned the art of saying thanks. As young adults, they write heartfelt expressions of gratitude.

This little ritual is an ethical and spiritual practice. It is important to take time out and really think about what you are grateful for.

Gratitude is often in short supply in an impatient world. Envy, anger, and other negative emotions can undermine the spirit of gratitude. And sometimes we get grumpy, even about the need to write a thank-you note.

The good news is that in expressing gratitude, grumpiness dissolves. Positive virtues are often developed by a kind of “fake it until you make it” contrivance. Even if you are not feeling particularly thankful, the emptiness of the blank page forces you to conjure up some gratitude.

Giving thanks is an important social ritual. You are expected to say thanks in certain situations. When the server brings the meal, you say thanks. After a job interview, you ought to write an email saying thanks. And so on.

Parents ask their kids, “What do you say?” in response to Grandma’s gift. The child knows that the correct answer is “Thanks, Grandma.” This compliant response to a parent’s prompting is an important start. But it is not yet gratitude.

Gratitude is deeper than saying thanks.

That’s where a thoughtful thank-you note plays a role. A decent thank-you note should have at least three sentences. First, you say what you are thankful for. Then you explain why you are thankful. Finally, you express good wishes toward the person you are thanking. By the time you’ve written those three sentences, the spark of gratitude may be kindled.

That’s why a hand-written note is better than a texted “Thx.” Mechanical expressions of thanks have little to do with gratitude. Pre-printed thank-yous often arrive in our inboxes, in response to charitable donations, bill payments, and the like. Sometimes they even arrive in response to wedding gifts or graduation gifts.

A mechanical thank-you acknowledges a gift or payment. The note lets you know that the check was not lost in the mail. But acknowledgement is not gratitude.

Gratitude is an expression of heartfelt gladness. It is not simply a receipt. It is also an appreciation. The word “appreciate” has the word “precious” concealed within it. Genuine gratitude involves reflecting on what you appreciate.

Philosophers have thought about gratitude for thousands of years. The Stoic philosopher Seneca suggested that true gratitude is not simply mechanical or self-interested. Ritual thankfulness occurs in religion and in business. This is often a superficial formula without thought.

Even worse, there are people who ingratiate themselves with sweet talk. Gratitude can be used to manipulate and take advantage. Slick salesmen express gratitude while picking our pockets. True gratitude is not like that at all. Rather, it is linked to generosity, friendship, and love.

Seneca also suggested that a good life should be imbued with a spirit of gratitude. He said, “we wish to depart from human life as full of gratitude as possible.”

A good life would be one in which envy and resentment give way to gratitude. To live well is to be grateful for this moment and this life. We should live in such a way that when the end comes, we can be grateful.

In the new year, then, let’s resolve to be less resentful and more grateful. One way to do that is to put pen to paper and write an old fashioned thank-you note. This reminds us of the generosity and good will of our friends and relations. It spreads goodwill by letting other people know that we appreciate them. And it encourages us to count our blessings, even in the dark of winter.

Giving Thanks for Simple Things

Covid-19 has transformed Thanksgiving.  This year we should shelter within our bubbles and stay close to home.  Rather than complaining about a downsized holiday, let’s use this as an opportunity to rediscover the wisdom of living modestly and being thankful.

Ancient wisdom celebrates gratitude and simplicity.  Ancient sages teach us to be grateful for simple things and to celebrate abundance without extravagance.

Thanksgiving has strayed far from this idea.  Rather than a time to count your blessings and give thanks, it became an orgy of over-indulgence.  The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade is a department store advertising gimmick.  The Black Friday frenzy is far removed from gratitude.  Good riddance to these extravagances. 

The Puritans of New England would be appalled that this festival of gluttony and greed commemorated their colonial adventure.  The Puritans connected thanksgiving with repentance and purification.  Instead of feasting, early Americans typically linked the ritual of giving thanks to fasting. Thomas Jefferson called for” public days of fasting and thanksgiving” when he was governor of Virginia.  During the civil war, Abraham Lincoln called for several days of “fasting and thanksgiving.”  In 1863, when Lincoln declared a national day of thanksgiving, he called for a day of prayer and “humble penitence.”   

This may go too far for those of us with a more secular orientation.  But there is wisdom in humility and abstinence.  You don’t have to be a Puritan to understand this.  Abstinence clarifies values.  Fasting heightens appreciation for simple things.  A thanksgiving feast that breaks a fast should consist of modest fare, eaten mindfully.

Mindfulness, gratitude, and abstinence are linked in most of the world’s traditions.  Muslims practice something like this during Ramadan.  The Buddha fasted and meditated on the way to enlightenment.  Ancient Taoist texts speak of “fasting of the mind” giving rise to the freedom of emptiness. 

This is not as far out and mystical as it sounds.  Mindful self-restraint quiets envy and desire.  The consuming self is like a vacuum.  It sucks things in: food, pleasure, and possessions.  But all of this frantic sucking produces anxiety, fear, greed, and envy. 

The mindful self stops sucking.  It becomes less focused on its own emptiness and more aware of its secret abundance.  The Greek sage Epicurus said that we already possess all that we need in abundance.  But we are confused.  We mistake wealth for happiness.  And we allow greed to make us ungrateful.  

When we discover self-sufficient abundance, it overflows.  It then becomes easier to give—and to give thanks.  The consuming self is a sucker and a taker.  The grateful self is content with what it has.  And in its contentment, it discovers compassion.

The ancient Greeks advise us to gratefully accept what fate gives us.  Seneca recommended an occasional fast as a reminder to be thankful.  This trains the spirit to be content no matter what fate sends our way.  Stoic serenity does not depend on money or good fortune.  Rather, it is built upon simplicity and gratitude. 

Seneca expressed these ideas in a letter criticizing the Saturnalia, the Roman equivalent of our holiday season.  He complained that preparations for the annual orgy went on all year.  And he noted that the season culminated in drunkenness and vomiting.  Seneca said it is wise to avoid all of that and to learn to “celebrate without extravagance.” 

The pandemic can help us re-learn this ancient lesson.  The usual extravagances have been cancelled.  And we are forced to abstain.  Rather than complain, let’s rediscover the wisdom of simplicity and gratitude. 

Don’t Panic

Fresno Bee, March 8, 2020

A virus spreads. The stock market tumbles. Store shelves clear. People are freaking out. The best advice for times like this is: don’t panic.

Panic undermines clear thinking and makes things worse. Luckily, the cure is well known. Get the facts. Seek a broader perspective. Focus on what is under your own control. Develop habits of calmness and self-control. And acknowledge that sickness and death are part of life.

The word “panic” comes from the name of the Greek god Pan, a feral god who haunted the wild places. Pan was the god of the nightmare and the uncanny. Pan would terrify and possess people, causing panic.

One solution is to stop believing in such superstitions. The wilderness is not haunted. Gods cannot possess us. Nor is the coronavirus sign of the Apocalypse, as some preachers have suggested. And while some Christians called for a global day of prayer to stop the coronavirus, what we really need is a vaccine, better hygiene, and a robust system of public health.

The ancient philosopher, Epicurus, offered a simple cure for panic. He told us not to worry about the gods. They are busy keeping the universe in motion. They have no interest in harming us.

But if we are going to pray, we might pray for wisdom and tranquility. This is what Socrates would have prayed for. In fact, at one point Socrates offered a prayer to Pan himself. He asked the god for integrity of soul. As Socrates put it, “grant me a beautiful soul in which the inner and outer self are united as one.”

A beautiful soul is stable and secure. It is at one with itself. It dwells in the company of truth. It is moderate and self-possessed. And it is resistant to panic.

The philosopher Seneca said the best way to prevent panic is to understand it. You need to understand that when “the habit of blind panic” takes over, the mind runs away with itself.

When we are not prepared for fear and hardship, panic strikes. Seneca explains, “the unprepared are panic-stricken even at the most trifling things.” And when uncontrollable and “witless” panic arrives, things get worse. Seneca’s solution is to adopt a larger point of view that puts life, death, and panic itself in proper perspective.

It is uncertainty that keeps us on edge. The fear that occurs out in the wilderness is like the fear of the dark. We’re not sure what’s lurking out there. That’s why knowledge helps. There is nothing in the dark that is not also there in the light.

It also helps to understand that fear is natural and has a purpose. There is a tightness in the belly and shallow breathing. We scan the environment looking for threats. This is the flight or fight instinct ready to go. If a threat emerges, the body is ready to react.

But this can get out of control, especially when everyone else is on edge. Panic is contagious. We sense the anxiety of our neighbor. If even a minor spark lights the fuse of anxiety, the herd erupts into a frenzied stampede.

This is why solitude is helpful. Peace of mind is easier to find if you keep your distance from the crowd. One easy way to prevent panic is to turn off your television and stay off social media.

But for some people, solitude causes panic. There is the fear of missing out and the depressing dread of loneliness. True solitude is not lonely. It is peaceful and centered, a way of finding yourself at home in the world.

Finally, the philosophers teach that we must understand that death, loss, and injury are common. Tornadoes, earthquakes, and deadly diseases have always existed. They always will. Something will eventually kill each of us. No one gets out of this life alive.

When we come to terms with our own mortality, panic gives way to acceptance. To live well is not to fearfully cling to life. This moment will not last long. So why waste it on worry? Life is not measured in length but in depth. The shallow panting of panic prevents us from breathing deeply and living well.

Assisted Suicide, Living, and Dying Well

Assisted suicide and the ethics of living and dying well

Fresno Bee, June 25, 2016

  • Assisted suicide law prompts legal challenge
  • Suicide points toward important religious and philosophical disagreement
  • The meaning of life includes thinking about dying well