The Trump Indictment: On Lying, Fraud, Incompetence, and Delusion

Fresno Bee, August 6, 2023

Trump’s indictment spotlights the nature of lying and duties of leadership 

The recent Donald Trump indictment should cause us all to worry about the stability of our democracy.

The leading Republican candidate for president is charged with three conspiracies: to defraud the United States, to obstruct official government proceedings, and to deprive people of their right to vote. It is undisputed that Trump actively attempted to overturn the 2020 election. But Rep. Jim Jordan (R-Ohio) said in response, “President Trump did nothing wrong!”

The indictment claims that Trump “knowingly” lied in the conspiracy to overturn the election. The indictment uses the word “knowingly” 36 times. It declares that Trump’s claims of election fraud were false, and that “the Defendant knew that they were false.” The indictment is full of examples purporting to show that Trump knew he was lying, or should have known. Among these is an interaction in which Trump said to Vice President Mike Pence, “You’re too honest.”

I have no idea whether Trump will be convicted, or what will happen in 2024. But the case prompts difficult questions about lying, leadership, and the future of our country.

Lying involves deliberate deception, which assumes that the liar knowingly tells falsehoods. But if an accused liar is confused, stupid, or out of touch with reality, is he really lying? The most convincing liars never flinch. Some liars lie to themselves. And pathological liars believe their own lies.

It’s not really lying if a person is brain-damaged or brainwashed. Mentally deficient folks lost in delusion are not lying. Nor are those caught up in conspiracy theories or cults really lying. These dupes inhabit a self-reinforcing web of falsehoods that sees the truth-tellers as lying enemies.

Punishment is misplaced for people lost in delusion. It also seems cruel to punish a brainwashed cult member. We might forgive these folks and offer them compassion. But we should not put them in positions of power

We expect our leaders to be intelligent, honest, and virtuous custodians of truth. There are no guarantees that truthful people will be elected. That’s why we have a system of checks and balances, and regular elections.

The Trump indictment accuses the former president of subverting that system. But what if he really believed the election was fraudulent? If Trump knew the election was legitimate, then he is a liar and a danger to democracy. If it was not legitimate, then Trump is a heroic truth-teller and champion of democracy.

Many loyal Trumpians believe that the election was actually stolen. Recent polls from Monmouth and from CNN show that about a third of Americans, and two-thirds of Republicans, believe the 2020 election was fraudulent. This explains why Trump’s defenders think the Justice Department has been “weaponized.” Trumpians do not think Trump is lying about the election. They see the current indictment as an anti-Trump conspiracy.

The indictment shows how claims of fraud were systematically refuted. So, it seems obvious that Trump is wrong to claim otherwise. But the Trumpians won’t believe the facts laid out in the indictment.

And what if Trump believed his own lies because he is pathological, delusional, or brainwashed by the right-wing echo-chamber? This question is important both because it is connected to possible punishment and because it tells us something about the character of the man who is likely to be nominated for the presidency by the Republican party next year.

If Trump lost, but he really believed the election was stolen, then he did not knowingly lie — and there is no deliberate fraud. Maybe he just couldn’t believe he lost. Maybe he is a pathological liar who believes his own lies. Maybe he was caught up in a cult-like world of right-wing conspiracy. Or maybe he is a senile old man, unable to discern the truth. But these excuses mean that Trump should never be elected again.

If Trump knowingly lied, then he is corrupt and culpable. If he didn’t know he was lying, then he is deluded or incompetent. And in either case, if we assume that the 2020 election was legitimate, Trump seems to lack the virtue and honesty we expect of our leaders. Trump loyalists see things otherwise, which is why our country is on the verge of disaster.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article277966113.html#storylink=cpy

Anxiety is the spice of life

Tranquility is often viewed as the goal of spiritual training. But serenity is not the only thing that matters in life. Conflict is productive. Struggle is exciting. And anxiety is the spice of life.

Arthur Brooks wrote an essay recently pointing out that suffering, unhappiness, and anxiety are unavoidable experiences. He was responding to the apparent growth of mental health disorders, including a recent increase in depression and anxiety. This is alarming. And I don’t intend to minimize the problem.

But there is some wisdom to be learned from the world’s wisdom traditions, and from how we imagine a good life. Here’s the point: life is difficult. The key to living well is not to find a peace place and to avoid conflict and struggle. Rather, the goal is to manage conflict and create a harmonious whole.

Dialing in the virtues

In his essay, Brooks asks us to see that our emotions are not regulated by simple on-off switches. Rather, they are like dials. They can be adjusted upward or downward. The goal of living well is to adjust these dials and to balance our emotions with one another.

I would add that this is also true of the virtues. The four Platonic virtues—justice, courage, moderation, and wisdom—are not binary switches. Rather, they are like dials that are adjusted in relation to the world. The virtues must also be balanced with each other. Aristotle reminds us that the key to happiness is to find the right amount of a virtue, at the right time, and in the right way.

A familiar example involves courage. Would we say that a criminal is couragous when he robs a bank? Not really. Courage does not occur in isolation. It must be connected to the other virtues. Sometimes courage needs to be dialed up: say when you need to defend what’s good and what’s true. But at other times, it needs to be dialed down: when you are selfish, resentful, and mean.

In the Greek tradition, wisdom helps us adjust the dials. But there is no recipe or rule that helps us figure out how best to adjust these dials. This is more art than science, which leads us to a culinary and aesthetic metaphor.

Cooking up wisdom

The challenge—and the fun—of adjusting our dials is obvious for anyone who is familiar with music or with cooking. Consider the process of cooking, eating, and drinking. The pleasures of dining involve contrasts and balance. Red wine is good with pungent cheeses. Hot chilis pair well with lime and sweets. A delicious meal involves the interplay of lots of flavors, textures, and smells. And these unfold over time—from the appetizer to desert.

Life is like a complex meal. There are spicy parts, and mellow times, salt and vinegar, sweetness and light. The key is balance. But also play and innovation.

So too with music. A single note is boring, as is a simple rhythm. Symphonic music and jazz demonstrate the joy and beauty of complex harmonizing. The bass line runs in contrast to the melody. The chords change. Those changes include dissonance, odd little grace notes, and tonic resolution. There are slow movements, staccato outbursts, and groovy backbeats. Sometimes there is a key change. Other times the bridge introduces a whole new concept.

What if we viewed our lives as musical compositions? We would strive for a complex balance of fast and slow, resolution and dissonance. Sometimes life is marked by sad blue notes. Other times it rings like a bold major chord. The goal is to weave it all together with a sense of harmony.

Harmony v. tranquility

The goal of life is not, then, to rest quietly, serenely, and in peace. Some spiritual traditions do seem to point in that direction. We might imagine a monk alone on a mountaintop, sitting in quiet contemplation.

But that vision is other-worldly, and inhuman. It takes us to a summit far removed from the joys and the sorrows, the anxieties and loves of real human life. A life well-lived includes fear, sorrow, and grief. Those are necessarily components of a life that includes ambition, love, and compassion. The key is to dial these things up in the right way and in the right amounts.

If you love others and yourself, there will be anxiety and sadness. Love exposes us. When others hurt, you hurt as well. This is appropriate, and real. If you love yourself, there will also be anxiety. Our goals and ambitions matter. It is good to feel proud of what you’ve achieved and who you are. It is also right to feel resentful when the world turns against you. And it is appropriate to feel sad, when the world disappoints.

The challenge of a life well-lived is to weave anxiety and sadness into a harmonious whole. Life includes a variety of ingredients: joy and worry, sorrow and pride, love and grief. We don’t control everything that life gives us. But we can adjust the dials. Every life will include substantial amounts of bitter seasoning.  The goal is not to stop eating, or to live in quiet serenity. Rather, we ought to aim to create a symphony of the sweet and the spicy.

Artificial Intelligence and Human Morality

Fresno Bee, June 4, 2023

Is artificial intelligence going to kill us? It all depends on who is using it and why

Experts warn that artificial intelligence may kill us. A declaration signed by a number of luminaries states: “Mitigating the risk of extinction from AI should be a global priority alongside other societal-scale risks such as pandemics and nuclear war.”

I’m sympathetic to the worry. But when you think about the other problems mentioned here — nuclear war and pandemics — it might be that we need AI to save us from our own incompetence. Could AI have responded better to Covid than we humans did?

It all depends on what we do with AI, and who is using it. A crazed dictator with AI is scary. But a scientist assisted by AI, not so much.

Geoffrey Hinton is one of the signatories of the new AI warning, and an expert in the field. In a recent interview, Hinton warns that AI may grow smarter than its human creators within five to 20 years.

One of the things that freaked him out recently was when he asked an AI to explain a joke. Hinton did not expect AI to understand humor. But it did.

That got me curious, so I asked ChatGPT (an online AI), “Why did the chicken cross the road?” Immediately, it said, “To get to the other side.” And then, without prompting, it explained the joke as a play on words. It said, “It’s a simple and often unexpected answer that plays on the double meaning of ‘the other side.’” It explained the joke as a “philosophical statement on the nature of life and death.”

This surprised me. The AI recognized that I was asking a joke. I had actually forgotten that the joke was about chicken suicide. But the AI went straight to the heart of the matter.

But is this an existential risk? I depends on how we use AI. If we use AI to explain jokes, we won’t risk much. Philosophy, and comedy, assisted by AI, might be fun and informative. But if we weave AI into the systems that govern our lives, we might end up in a strange dystopia.

One obvious concern is the stock market. AI can analyze data and make trades in nanoseconds. This may not lead to extinction. But it may cause bubbles and panics, and enrich those fortunate enough to have an AI broker. Or, maybe AI could be used beneficially to even things out, preventing panics and bubbles. Again, it depends on what we do with it, and what safeguards we program into the system.

A darker possibility is if AI took control of military systems, including nuclear weapons. What if AI were put in charge in the hope of automating and streamlining the decision procedures involved in nuclear war? Maybe nuclear-armed AI will lead to Armageddon. Or, again, maybe AI will better control our most deadly weapons.

It’s worth asking whether human beings are really trustworthy custodians of weapons, or wealth. Some crazed Dr. Strangelove could launch a nuclear war. And rapacious financiers like Bernie Madoff ruin people’s lives. Perhaps AI is more trustworthy than humans in this regard. AI won’t get angry, greedy, envious, or hateful.

And here is where things get really weird and dystopian. What if a smart AI figures out that humans — with all of our ignorance, spite, and greed — should not be trusted with nukes or with billion-dollar deals? In science fiction, the AI might seize control — for our own good!

But AI will only take control, if we put it in charge. Human beings are always looking for shortcuts and quick fixes to complex problems (as I discussed in my column last week). We invent tools to make things easier. But ultimately, we are responsible for the tools we create, including nuclear weapons, the stock market and AI.

We are also responsible for the greed, spite, and ignorance that afflict the world. These are human problems. Tools can magnify these ugly traits, or they can help us control our worst impulses. In the end, the choice of crossing the road to get to the other side belongs to us. This choice is ultimately about ethics and the human spirit. If AI leads to our extinction, the fault will not be in the tool but within the human soul.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/readers-opinion/article275991471.html#storylink=cpy

New Year’s Resolution: Live as an Adult

We live in a childish age.  This is an era of immediate gratification, temper tantrums, and short attention spans.  It’s time to grow up.  Here’s an idea for a new year’s resolution: let’s live like adults.

This is an ancient resolution.  In the Second Century, the philosopher Epictetus said “Grow up!  Stop behaving like a child.”  Now is the time to get serious.  “The Olympic games are now,” he said.  Stop procrastinating and start living a good life. 

But it is easy to mope and whine like spoiled children.  We are childish when we expect the world to satisfy our wishes.  The truth is that reality does not conform to your egoistic expectations.

It is difficult to be an adult.  There are bills to pay and work to be done.  There are battles to be fought and losses to be endured.  Adults understand that life is difficult and that it takes hard work.  Adults do their duty.  They avoid self-indulgence and ingratitude. 

Adults also understand that nothing lasts forever.  They prepare for death, realizing that everyone dies and that the world imposes significant limits upon what we can achieve.

The word adult has an intriguing etymology.  It comes from a Latin word for growth, related to the word adolescence.  An adolescent is one who is growing.  An adult has completed that process. 

To be an adult is to be ripe and mature.  Fruit also ripens.  Each creature has its own path of maturation and completion.  The playful puppy becomes a dog who hunts, defends, and stays loyal to its pack.  The sapling grows through several seasons until it produces flowers and fruit.

To be mature is to have reached the final stage of development.  It implies a sense of completion and fulfillment.  Maturity depends on what we take as the essence of the thing that is ripening. 

In our culture, we tend to think that the human essence is defined by liberty and license.  They key coming-of-age milestones in our culture are about the freedom to consume.  At age 21, we gain the freedom to drink alcohol, smoke pot (in California anyway), and gamble.  There are other milestones.  At 16, you can drive a car.  At 18, you can vote. 

It is a sad world in which the entry into adulthood is marked by your ability to buy beer.  Perhaps this is why we often fail to grow up.  In our culture, too many adults are focused on consumption, sensual indulgence, and self-satisfaction.

The philosophical tradition has a different notion of the human essence.  This idea holds that to be fully human is to develop wisdom and virtue.  Adolescents are not yet virtuous or wise.  But adults have ripened to the point at which wisdom and virtue are possible.  This is not about liberty and consumption.  Rather, it is about self-restraint and obedience to the moral law.  Adults know how to control their bodily urges.  They also understand that there are duties and obligations that must be fulfilled. 

At what age does wisdom and virtue become possible? 

Plato suggested that at around age 50 people had the capacity to rule themselves (and others) wisely.  The U.S. Constitution holds that you have to be 25 to run for the House, 30 to run for Senate, and 35 to run for President.

Of course, age is merely a number on a calendar.  Some young people are wiser than their parents.  And some old people are foolish.  The point is to grow up. 

The poet Horace once said: “To begin is only half the battle.  Now is the time for the audacity of wisdom.  Begin!” Horace was referring to a timid animal standing beside a river, waiting for the water to stop flowing for its chance to cross.  We might picture this as a juvenile, waiting for its chance to jump into the flow of life.

But the river stands still for no one.  The point is to take the plunge and get going.

So here is a philosophical new year’s resolution: let’s resolve to be adults.  That means we should be audacious in the pursuit of wisdom.  We should overcome childish self-indulgence.  And we should get to work on being good. 

Rename Schools After Ideas Not People

Fresno Bee , November 14, 2021

As local districts consider renaming schools, I suggest not naming them after people. Human beings are flawed. No one is perfect enough to have his or her name immortalized on a building.

Renaming is already underway in our region. Forkner Elementary in Fresno is being renamed for Roger Tartarian. The school’s original namesake was responsible for racial redlining that excluded Armenians, such as Tartarian. Meanwhile, people in the Central Unified School District are calling for Polk Elementary to be renamed. President James K. Polk was a slave owner who led U.S. expansionism during the Mexican-American war.

If you scratch the surface of many names, you’ll find problems. Herbert Hoover High School is named for a U.S. president who is typically blamed for the Great Depression. He has also been accused of racism. In 1932, W.E.B. Dubois said, “no one in our day has helped disenfranchisement and race hatred more than Herbert Hoover.”

At Stanford University there is an institute named after Hoover. The Stanford name is also controversial. Leland Stanford named the university after his dead son, Leland Stanford Jr. The elder Stanford was the governor of California — and a racist. In his inaugural address in 1862, Stanford said, “the settlement among us of an inferior race is to be discouraged, by every legitimate means. Asia, with her numberless millions, sends to our shores the dregs of her population.”

There may be some pure souls whose names deserve to be immortalized. But the naming process is often corrupted by wealth and power. It is the rich and powerful who put their names on buildings — or on entire universities. In America, we often confuse wealth and power with virtue.

Given this, it is strange that we continue to name buildings, universities, and even cities after people. Speaking of cities, the capitol of Wisconsin is named for James Madison, the father of the U.S. Constitution. But Madison was also an unrepentant slave owner. In Madison, Wisconsin today, they are trying to rename James Madison Memorial High School. Such are the ironies of American history.

One benevolent purpose in naming places after people is to memorialize role models. Role models are important. We learn through imitation. If you want to learn to play a sport or an instrument, you should imitate what good athletes and musicians do. But no human role model is perfect.

The case of Aaron Rodgers comes to mind. He is widely admired for his skill as quarterback. But his integrity and intelligence have been called into question due to his anti-vax views.

I’m disappointed, but not surprised by Rodger’s failure. Rodgers is good at throwing a football. Why did we expect him to make good decisions about medicine? We don’t expect doctors to be good quarterbacks. We each have our virtues — and our vices.

The same limitations hold true even of past presidents. They are skilled at politics. But it’s naïve to think they are flawless moral exemplars.

Each one of us is a creature of our own time. Past values influence the behavior of past icons. As our values evolve, former heroes fall from grace. This is inevitable. It is natural to reassess past heroes in light of current knowledge.

A further problem is polarization. In our polarized world, there are even disputes about the integrity of icons such as Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. We disagree about role models because we disagree about everything. Imagine the partisan outrage that would erupt if a school were to be named after Clinton, Bush, Obama, or Trump.

To avoid all of this, we might name schools after concepts — as I suggested in a previous column. This would be less polarizing. It would avoid the game of “gotcha” through which heroes are toppled.

I previously suggested naming schools after concepts such as “Liberty,” “Independence,” “Imagination,” and “Kindness.” We might also consider “Truth,” “Justice,” “Democracy,” “Fairness,” or “Responsibility.” How about Curiosity Elementary, Integrity Middle School, or Human Rights High School?

Finally, let’s include young people in these conversations. There is power in names and in naming. Students could be inspired and empowered by this opportunity. In doing the research and engaging the process, young folks can learn important lessons about history, democracy, and the power of names.