WWDLD?

It’s not uncommon to see the rhetorical question “What Would Jesus Do?” (WWJD) bandied about in the ether of the intertubes.

Sometimes the question is asked as a means of laying down a virtue marker in the questioner’s favor, but often it’s an honest challenge. The question is usually rhetorical, however, because the person asking knows that (1) Even if answered, few people will act on it; and (2) Everyone knows the answer, but it’s usually the opposite of what most people intend to do. Hence, the virtue signaling.

But in fairness to us ordinary human beings, “What Would Jesus Do?” is a trap of sorts, because whatever we think Jesus would do is comparatively easy for Jesus to do, given that he was not only human but divine. The rest of us have oversized clay feet and tying our ethical shoelaces is a challenge. We certainly need a scanning electron microscope to find the spark of the divine that we’ve been assured is within us.

---

But what about someone who insists, “I am an ordinary human being”? What of his or her ethical pronouncements? We could dismissively relativize them as “one person’s opinion,” but that means our ethical standards are also easily dismissed, so that’s a zero sum game.

“I am just a human being,” The Dalai Lama says. [1] What if we asked, “What Would The Dalai Lama Do?” (WWDLD)? Of course, this could devolve into virtue signaling, but we no longer have the luxury of the “But he’s divine” dodge. Yes, the world (or much of it, anyway) considers the Dalai Lama to be a holy man, so a partial dodge, a feint to the right, is an option, if we’re so inclined, because few of us are holy. Like determined toddlers, we’ll always find a way out of behavioral expectations, which we determinedly and with some alacrity toss aside like an itchy wool sweater.

But, at The Dalai Lama’s insistence, the emphasis is on “man,” not “holy,” so the dodge is, at best, iffy. The Dalai Lama insists on his humanness, which he ranks as his most important attribute, followed by “I am a Tibetan” and “I am a Buddhist monk.” Only after establishing his “ordinariness” does he state, “I am The Dalai Lama.” [2]

Why give him the time of day? Why him, and not our next door neighbor, who has years of experience growing great tomatoes? Well, for tomatoes seek out the neighbor with the experience (although The Dalai Lama is a gardener), but for other questions, different criteria apply. We listen to The Dalai Lama partly because of the opinions that we receive from other people we respect, and partly based on our estimation that he’s engaged thoughtfully and rigorously, over a long period of time, with important questions.

So, given the multiple crises we face – the COVID-19 pandemic, collapsing economies and rising inequality, racism and xenophobia, the rise of authoritarian cults, and the climate catastrophe – What would The Dalai Lama Do?

He’s given us an extended answer.

---

“Compassion,” he says, “what I sometimes also call human affection, is the determining factor of our life. Connected to the palm of the hand, the five fingers become functional; cut off from it, they are useless. Similarly, every human action becomes dangerous when it is deprived of human feeling. When they are performed with feeling and respect for human values, all activities become constructive.”[3]

In his essay, Human Rights, Democracy, and Freedom, which he wrote in honor of the 60th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, he elaborates in some detail what must be done: [4]

“Whether we are concerned with suffering born of poverty, with denial of freedom, with armed conflict, or with a reckless attitude to the natural environment everywhere, we should not view these events in isolation. Eventually their repercussions are felt by all of us. We, therefore, need effective international action to address these global issues from the perspective of the oneness of humanity, and from a profound understanding of the deeply interconnected nature of today’s world.”

“At birth, human beings are naturally endowed with the qualities we need for our survival, such as caring, nurturing, and loving-kindness. Despite the fact that we already possess such positive qualities, however, we tend to neglect them. As a result, humanity faces unnecessary problems. We need to make more efforts to sustain and develop these basic qualities. That is why the promotion of human values is of primary importance.”

“We also need to focus on cultivating good human relations since, whatever our differences of nationality, religious faith, race, wealth, or education, we are all human beings. Faced with difficulties, we always meet someone, a stranger perhaps, who spontaneously offers us help. We all depend on each other in difficult circumstances, and we do so unconditionally. We don’t ask who people are before we help them. We help them because they are human beings like us.“

“Our world is increasingly interdependent, but I wonder if we truly understand that our interdependent human community has to be compassionate; compassionate in our choice of goals, compassionate in our means of cooperation and our pursuit of these goals.”

[…]

“Concerned not only for ourselves, our families, our community and country, we must also feel a responsibility for the individuals, communities and peoples who make up the human family as a whole. We require not only compassion for those who suffer, but also a commitment to ensuring social justice.“

[…]

However, responsibility for working for peace lies not only with our leaders, but also with each of us individually. Peace starts within each one of us. When we have inner peace, we can be at peace with those around us. When our community is in a state of peace, it can share that peace with neighbouring communities and so on. When we feel love and kindness toward others, it not only makes others feel loved and cared for, but it helps us also to develop inner happiness and peace. We can work consciously to develop feelings of love and kindness.”

[…]

Peace and freedom cannot be ensured as long as fundamental human rights are violated. Similarly, there cannot be peace and stability as long as there is oppression and suppression. It is unfair to seek one’s own interests at the cost of other people’s rights. Truth cannot shine if we fail to accept truth or consider it illegal to tell the truth.”

---

So, the answer to “WWDLD?” is distressingly similar to “WWJD?”: “Love one another as I have loved you.”

Unfortunately, that’s precisely the thing we don’t want to do.

---

[1] Tenzin Gyatso, His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama; Stril-Rever, Sofia (ed.); Mandell, Charlotte (tr.). 2010. My Spiritual Journey. HarperOne Reprint, Kindle version., p. 17.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid, p. 20.

[4] Tenzin Gyatso, His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama. 2008. Human Rights, Democracy, and Freedom. Statement for the sixtieth anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, December 10. All quotations that follow are from this essay, and emphasis has been added throughout. The full essay is available online at: https://www.dalailama.com/messages/world-peace/human-rights-democracy-and-freedom

Journal Entry #4, 5/20/2020

I’ve been decompressing the last few days. A bit of a chest cold, which makes me wary with worry, wondering will I wrangle with Streptococcus pneumoniae? Or just Beowulf-style alliteration? Certainly, there are Grendels about.

They’re a psychological problem, the Grendels are, even if I’ve artfully dodged pneumoniae (he said hopefully, making a sign to ward off the evil eye). There’s the never-ending tsunami (which only gathers strength, never dissipates) of insults and horror and corruption from Mr. Trump and his followers, resulting in a “long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism” that strangles the next breath, and then the breath after that.

Grendel, the monster, was more merciful: he dispatched Hrothgar’s men quickly.

I’ve changed the typeface in my copy of Microsoft Word to Consolas, which was developed by the Dutch designer Luc(as) de Groot (who also designed the ubiquitous Calibri). I don’t think he had it in mind, but Consolas reminds me of console and consolation, something which is scarce and awkward to offer or receive while scrupulously maintaining no touch physical distancing. De Groot did, however, describe Consolas’ rounded design as having a “warm and soft character,” which is as close as it gets for capitalism.

“My branches weigh me down, frost cleans the air,
My sky is black with small birds bearing south …”

Edna St. Vincent Millay

I’ve been drifting perpendicular to my newsfeed, up and away into fiction. Even John Milton, my usual evadere, seems a bit too panic inducing in this moment … Our mythical but psychologically true parents shamed and banished to the East of Eden, or powerful bishops with smelly socks, or Samson’s desperate pillar-crashing suicide-protest against the Philistines, or the 17th century Charles I regicide … None of it encourages one look forward to morning coffee in this cursed time.

So I’ve grabbed a sunburst of balloons and floated free of politics, if only for 10^-9 seconds per day, which is the daily accuracy of a synchronized atomic clock (a “clock device that uses a hyperfine transition frequency in the microwave, or electron transition frequency in the optical or ultraviolet region of the electromagnetic spectrum of atoms as a frequency standard for it’s timekeeping element,” which is, without doubt, every bit as wonderful as it sounds, but understanding hyperfine transition frequency in the microwave (good for cooking popcorn?) is, for me, on the far side of the Grand Canyon-like chasm within my memory of a long ago year-long college physics course, during which I wrestled with a corpuscular calculus far more often than I meditated on the Tao of physics. OM [528 megahertz of mind altering vibration]).

Where have I perpendicularly drifted?

To the works of Robin Sloan, a programmer. He’s the author of two novels, Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore (which I read in one sitting several years ago) and Sourdough (which I’m reading now; yes, it’s about bread — and obsession), both detective stories that are unlike any detective story you’ve read. He also wrote a novella, Annabel Scheme. Novellas are what you write when you are groaning under one of two constraints: (1) Your idea didn’t have the legs you thought it had, so it couldn’t traipse the novel distance; (2) You’re writing to a deadline and you’re dead. Sloan produces a quirky newsletter called The Society of the Double Dagger, which he convenes sporadically via email and hyperlinks, and he’s writing a narrative adventure game, The Perils of the Overworld, and he encourages you to look over his shoulder as he labors to actually finish writing the damn game. Oh, and he operates a California virgin olive oil-by-mail order business call Fat Gold.

Strictly on the QT, he’s hinted that he has another book in the oven (or wherever books are made). Top secret stuff, apparently.

Sloan is a regular well-rounded weird guy, but, as a caterpillar once said, I’m okay with that now. Look him up on the intertubes.

My second balloon drift is into a more substantial novel, The Rings of Saturn, by W.G. Sebald, a German writer (born in Bavaria in 1944) who lived in East Anglia in the U.K., only a few hours from where I once lived. He taught German at the University of East Anglia while writing four novels in German, which were translated by others into English. The Rings of Saturn was his third novel (preceded by Vertigo and The Immigrants, followed by Austerlitz).

Despite its name, The Rings of Saturn is not a science book, nor is it science fiction. It has a deceptive 19th century Romantic feel: a brooding man takes a melancholy walk and ruminates on things. Many, many things. Yes. Humpf. Prepare to embark on a journey of 20th century stream of consciousness. One reviewer wrote that Sebald’s books are a “curious and wide-ranging mixture of fact (or apparent fact), recollection and fiction, often punctuated by indistinct black-and-white photographs set in evocative counterpoint to the narrative rather than illustrating it directly.” That is a succinct description of The Rings of Saturn. There is humor, too, but you must be preternaturnally (from the Latin praeter naturam, “beyond nature,” which medieval scholars wrote as praeternaturalis) alert to spot it. Actually, you don’t, but it doesn’t hurt to bring along a super-sized amygdala, hippocampus, cerebellum, and prefrontal cortex full of short- and (comparatively) long-term memory for detail.

And there is detail. And more detail. There are long skeins of connections between details. There are long skeins of connections between the long skeins of connections. Many deaths in the first few chapters, most natural but nonetheless melancholic and perplexing. Memory and the loss of memory. French literature and sand in Monsieur Flaubert’s brain (the French think of everything). A 17th century physician’s missing skull. An approach to knowledge that is described by a complex geometric shape, which I find appealing. Personal and civilizational decay. A mansion conspicuously constructed to consume the wealth of an upstart Englishman, now subsiding into genteel decrepitude. World War II and carpet bombing and firestorms. The Garden of Cyrus. Or, The Quincunciall, Lozenge, or Net-work Plantations of the Ancients, Artificially Naturally, Mystically Considered (1658). Silkworms and Nazi death camps.

A long walk through the Suffolk countryside.

A very long walk.

I’ll read Sebold’s other novels, but, sadly, it’s four novels and a full stop. He died in an automobile accident in 2001. Actually, it’s more of a California stop than a complete stop, because his books aren’t read and forget, they’re read and ponder and reread. And he wrote three volumes of poetry, of which I am innocent. He also published essay collections, so I’ll meander through those as well, because he’s a good writer and I like essays, so a good writer of essays is always welcome in my house.

Like Montaigne, I consider a good book to be an honored guest. W.G. Sebold’s books will be honored guests.

You must commit yourself when you read Sebold, like a devout monk commits to copying and painstakingly illuminating a manuscript of intricate theological arguments: good and evil hang in the balance, and it’s not safe to assume God will overcome Satan. As was written of my temporarily benched Milton, while reading Sebold you will embark on a “curious and perpetual search for knowledge.”

His novel Austerliz, which I have not yet read, reputedly contains a sentence that spans nine pages.

Oh, and not incidentally, he was once considered by literary critics to be one of the world’s greatest living writers. As in Noble Prize worthy. He’s not anymore, an unsurprising if unfortunate consequence of no longer being counted among the living. But in his novels, or at least in The Rings of Saturn, his being is alive.

I’ll drift with my balloons a while longer … Studiously avoiding, of course, 99 Luftballons. Unless Mr. Trump insists.

Range Wars and American Politics

Between 1889 and 1893, there were a series of violent clashes between large cattle companies and smaller settlers in Johnson County, Wyoming. The fight is known as the Johnson County Wars or the Wyoming Range Wars. The cattlemen and the settlers were battling over grazing lands and water rights, with the cattlemen insisting they had the absolute right to all grazing land and water. The settlers disagreed. The cattlemen brought in hired gunmen, and the settlers joined together to form a posse of 200 men to resist. Eventually, the U.S. cavalry and the Wyoming state legislature gained some measure of control, but the fighting persisted for years.

Such is the condition of our contemporary political landscape. We are engaged in range wars, battling for votes and resources and power. Like the differences between the cattlemen and settlers, our differences seem intractable. Indeed, our differences are elementally rooted in human nature. The only thing today’s adversaries have in common, like the cattlemen, large and small, of 19^th century Wyoming, is that all sides want sweet grass and water.

Liberals and conservatives psychologically view the world differently; it’s a matter of how our brains are wired.  Emily Laber-Warren, in her 2012 Scientific American article, “Unconscious Reactions Separates Liberals from Conservatives,” provides an overview of the issue and a brief review of the evidence.

“According to the experts who study political leanings, liberals and conservatives do not just see things differently. They are different—in their personalities and even their unconscious reactions to the world around them.”  Fear is a major factor driving emotional responses, which drive behavior.  Conservatives are more anxious than liberals, which makes them less amenable to change.  It’s also is why conservatives tend to defend the “tradition” of the high school civics class/Leave It To Beaver variety.  Conservatives prefer “clear answers even to complicated questions.”

Conservatives reject things like gay marriage, abortion, or affirmative action because they represent a moral challenge and a change to the status quo.  Add to this socially acquired racism and a fear of losing one’s socio-economic status, and there is a perfect storm of reasons why conservatives and liberals can’t agree.  Finding a way to appeal to different worldviews (phrasing climate change as a threat to the “American way of life,” for example), may reduce the difference between liberals and conservatives on some issues.

On July 20, 1889, Ella Watson, a local rancher, was accused of stealing cattle from another rancher. The cattlemen sent riders to seize Ella, also capturing her husband Jim. Both were hanged from a tree.

Religion, consciously or unconsciously, provides the moral foundation for both conservative and liberal viewpoints.  Jonathon Haidt, in The Righteous Mind, notes that both liberals and conservatives base their judgments on a couple of central moral precepts.

“Liberals … tend to value … caring for people who are vulnerable and fairness, which for liberals tends to mean sharing resources equally. Conservatives care about those things, too, but for them fairness means proportionality—that people should get what they deserve based on the amount of effort they have put in. Conservatives also emphasize loyalty and authority – values helpful for maintaining a stable society.”

Haidt’s suggestion?

“[T]he left [should] acknowledge that the right’s emphasis on laws, institutions, customs and religion is valuable. Conservatives recognize that democracy is a huge achievement and that maintaining the social order requires imposing constraints on people. Liberal values, on the other hand, also serve important roles: ensuring that the rights of weaker members of society are respected; limiting the harmful effects, such as pollution, that corporations sometimes pass on to others; and fostering innovation by supporting diverse ideas and ways of life.”

Haidt isn’t alone in pleading for a recognition of the value of both perspectives. But it’s equally clear that most people aren’t willing to do so.  In “times of plenty” or in the face of an external danger, the differences are muted, but they never vanish.  In times of economic distress – or when confronted by a danger, like the coronavirus, that can’t be “fought” by a standing army – the differences are exacerbated and worldviews clash.

This is precisely why media are important.  Conservative media reinforces conservative fears and morality, while liberal media reinforces liberal fears and morality.  We can argue that liberal media is fact based, and that is true (although it’s not always true), but the deeper psychological dimension of the liberal-conservative divide means there is a fundamental split that won’t be easily overcome, especially since there is a proliferation of sources of news and, most importantly, opinion.  Each side sees snippets of the other side’s news and opinion and forms dismissive generalizations:  conservatives sneer at libtards, while liberals despair over rednecks.

There is no Walter Cronkite to present an “American” view to which most people can assent.

I don’t believe there is a “middle” to which voters and politicians are drawn.  There are areas of relative agreement (or less disagreement) that allow politicians of all stripes to take action, but there is no middle.  In the U.S., national defense is the biggest area of agreement.  Both Republicans and Democrats are happy to lavish funds on the Pentagon, and their voters are mostly okay with it.

For most questions, though, a “middle” is elusive.  How do you form a “middle” on gay marriage?  People can’t be half-married.  Is it allowing civil marriages, but not requiring religions to “bless” marriages?  What about abortion? Is it that some abortions are acceptable, but others are not?  How is that so? These are, it seems to me, either/or questions, and the space for compromise is small.

The governor of Wyoming sent a telegram to President Benjamin Harrison, requesting federal troops to protect the large cattlemen:

“About sixty-one owners of live stock are reported to have made an armed expedition into Johnson County for the purpose of protecting their live stock and preventing unlawful roundups by rustlers. They are at ‘T.A.’ Ranch, thirteen miles from Fort McKinney, and are besieged by Sheriff and posse and by rustlers from that section of the country, said to be two or three hundred in number. The wagons of stockmen were captured and taken away from them and it is reported a battle took place yesterday, during which a number of men were killed. Great excitement prevails. Both parties are very determined and it is feared that if successful will show no mercy to the persons captured. The civil authorities are unable to prevent violence. The situation is serious and immediate assistance will probably prevent great loss of life.”

The president sent the Sixth Cavalry to the rescue.

There is a third perspective which looks at the policies of liberals and conservatives and sees “no significant difference.”  This is typically the viewpoint of someone on the left, and it, too has a strong moral foundation.  But the third perspective it isn’t about gay marriage or abortion rights, it’s about economics.

Both conservatives and liberals support capitalism, but the left considers capitalism both profoundly undemocratic and the root of the inequalities in our society.  The problems arising from capitalism are more important than the ordinary political differences of liberals and conservatives.

Walter Cronkite may have spoken for liberals and conservatives, but as a spokesperson for capitalism, he didn’t speak for the left.

Capitalism, for example, was responsible for slavery, which is responsible for much of the racism in contemporary America.  Capitalism creates the conditions in which a woman might be forced into choosing an abortion because she can’t adequately care for a child.  Capitalism creates homelessness and hunger despite abundant material wealth.

To be sure, liberals are more interested in ameliorating the harsh effects of capitalism than are conservatives, but the left insists that eliminating capitalism is required for the reduction of inequality and its resultant tensions.

“From each according to his ability, to each according to his need.”  Like conservatives, leftists say, “eight hours of work,” because everyone must contribute, and work is a part of a dignified life.  But like liberals, leftists insist that no one should go hungry or be homeless, regardless of their income.  Leftists also say, “eight hours of leisure and learning and eight hours of sleep.”  Like liberals and conservatives, leftists believe in a balanced life.

Unlike liberals and conservatives, however, leftists don’t believe capitalism can achieve those goals.  Further, leftists believe capitalism to be undemocratic:  people spend most of their waking hours working in authoritarian organizations in which they have little or no say about products, working conditions, pay, safety, etc.  How can we say we live in a democracy if the one place most adults spend most of their time is undemocratic?

Psychologically (since that’s how I started this essay), there are two types of leftists:  doctrinaire (as in Marxist, Leninist, Maoist, etc.; the permutations are endless) and those who are not Marxists (they may be socialists of the 19^th century English variety, for example, or religious socialists).  There is means/end gap as well.  Some on the left believe a revolution, necessarily involving violence, is required to change society.  Other leftists believe the end (a just society) does not justify any means (violence), and that change can occur peacefully (on the part of the left), although the reaction to change (on the part of liberals and conservatives in government) may be violent. Liberals and conservatives will defend capitalism, erroneously believing they are defending democracy.

Each leftist “tendency” has its own media, and the only thing the left likes more than it likes hating capitalism is arguing among themselves.  By way of comparison, the Bernie Sanders vs. the Democratic Party dispute is too dignified to be called a good argument.

So, there are more than two perspectives in American political life, even if the third is mostly ignored.  All three arise from psychological predispositions and moral judgments.  Insisting that we must “respect each other,” while necessary, isn’t going to resolve the differences.  As American political history illustrates, one tendency dominates for a while, only to fall prey to hubris and giving another side an advantage.  The left would add that has long as the two main parties agree on capitalism, true progress isn’t possible.

It remains to be seen, of course, if the American system, however imperfect, can survive the dangers of a populist right, a pandemic, a shattered economy, and a climate catastrophe.  We are cursed, as the saying goes, to live in interesting times.  As in the days of the Wyoming Range Wars, proto-gunslingers have been engaged and encouraged by one side, and a peaceful, democratic outcome is by no means guaranteed.

Journal Entry #3, 5/16/2020

I’ve missed a few days of entries. We were preparing to move from Madison to Appleton, and while I couldn’t physically participate in the preparation, I was distracted.

We’re now in the new house, sort of. I have my recliner, which is also my temporary bed, my oxygen supplies, and my laptop. I don’t have a standard internet connection yet (later today), so I’m using my phone as a hotspot. My wife and two of our daughters will move this evening from their apartment in Appleton, when the movers arrive to do the heavy lifting. They leased the apartment for six months, since my wife worked in Appleton; they lived there four days a week, returning to Madison on Fridays.

The contents in our Madison house are scheduled to be in motion toward the end of the month. The coronavirus rampage makes even an ordinary household move a little more difficult, especially since I’m in a pandemic high-risk category. Once the movers arrive, I will lock myself away in my room until they leave (when they place furniture in my room, I’ll sit on the back patio; a door from my room opens to it).

I like the new house. I saw it for the first time (except for pictures) Friday afternoon, after the closing; my wife did the viewing. It’s a four-bedroom, three bath ranch, with a finished basement (washer/dryer on the main level). Three features stand out, at least for me: a privacy fenced backyard with extensive gardens, a screened-in back porch, and my bedroom/office, which has floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides, offering a panoramic view of the gardens. The photo below shows part of my view (there are many garden beds not shown); you can see the edge of the screened-in porch on the right.

The only drawback is that, aside from a wall-sized bookcase (only five shelves tall, but long; it’s the largest piece of furniture we own, and harder to move than our piano), the bulk of my library will be downstairs. A minor, but not insignificant, detail, because stairs and I are not really on good terms. I can navigate them, but it requires of me a Necomen Atmospheric Steam Engine expenditure of air and energy, especially the return trip. It goes without saying (but to eliminate uncertainty, I’ll say it anyway) that my John Milton collection will be housed on the “the empyrean domain where human will and God’s will became as one,” that is to say, on the main level. (I know, I know: That’s Dante’s Paradiso, not Milton, but that’s what came to mind.)

I am, nonetheless, quite happy with the move.

We found the house in an interesting way. In late summer, my wife attended a training seminar, and later she provided counseling services at a Ready Reserve pre-deployment meeting, both near Appleton. Rather than staying in a hotel, she used an AirBnB. She thought the house was nice, and she found the hosts, an older couple, gracious.

Fast forward a few months, when we’re looking for a house in Appleton. It was (and still is) a seller’s market; within hours of a property listing, the sellers received multiple offers, and we were outbid several times. One morning, my wife was looking at the “For Sale by Owner” listings and saw … the Airbnb house, which had been posted only a half hour earlier.

She called the owners and reminded them that she had been a guest. They remembered her and agreed to a showing that afternoon. She contacted our realtor (a great guy) and walked through the house (parts of which she hadn’t seen); we made a bid an hour later, which was accepted the next morning.

Serendipity is your friend.

Journal Entry #2, 5/13/2020

This is a strange entry. It was originally meant to be what I now call Part I, a few “today in history” items that caught my eye. But as I finished writing, Part II welled up, unbidden, so I wrote it down, even though I do not believe it. Or I do not wish to acknowledge that I believe it. Part III is simultaneously an ancient challenge and, I think, a lament. The three parts are not obviously related, but they do form a kind of loose prose poem.

---

Part I

The date is May13,1648. Margaret Jones of the Plymouth Colony is found guilty of witchcraft, for which she was sentenced to be hanged. At her trial, John Winthrop recorded the evidence:

“She was found to have such a malignant touch, as many persons, men, women, and children, whom she stroked or touched with any affection or displeasure, or etc., were taken with deafness, or vomiting, or other violent pains or sickness … In the prison, in clear daylight, there was seen a little child, which ran from her into another room, and the officer following it, it was vanished … The same day and hour she was executed, there was a very great tempest at Connecticut, which blew down many trees, etc.”

*

The date is May 13, 1846. Due to tensions arising from the annexation of Texas by the U.S., Congress approves a declaration war on Mexico. The war would last until 1848. and it was one of many 19th century wars in which the U.S. engaged in empire building. At war’s end, the U.S. gained territories that expanded its influence across the southwest and into California.

*

Henry David Thoreau opposed the war, just as he opposed slavery. He had refused to pay the poll tax the previous three years as a sign of protest against slavery, so as a matter of principle he refused to pay to support the war. This time, the town constable arrested and jailed Mr. Thoreau.

In a memorable but possibly apocryphal encounter, Ralph Waldo Emerson visited Mr. Thoreau in jail, asking him, “Henry, why are you here?” To which Mr. Thoreau replied, “Waldo, why are you not here?”

Someone, possibly an aunt, paid Mr. Thoreau’s poll tax (she was probably embarrassed to have a nephew in jail) and, despite his objections, he was released the next day.

The incident prompted Mr. Thoreau to write his famous essay, On the Duty of Civil Disobedience, which influenced Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr., among many other people.

---

Part II

Today was a day like too many others. The affairs of humankind threaten to dissolve and take new forms of unknown lethality. Shouts and cries of alarm are heard in the distance. The relentless beast called Change thrashes against the soft belly of What Is. The United Kingdom, confronted by the disturbances of Brexit, the deaths of coronavirus, and uncertain leadership, may dissolve into England, Scotland, and Wales. Europe is exhausted by death and wracked by a cacophony of rightist forces. China, disciplined by decree and made grim by mass burials, chants the secrets of its ancient kingdom at the edge of the world. U.S. states are forming alliances among themselves to defend against the chaos of Mr. Trump’s government and a malignant undead creature. Men in nondescript rooms in obscure places dream dreams of holy destruction.

“Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.”

W.B. Yeats

The specter of warring nations and tribes again taunts the world, and Santayana’s drumbeats are heard far into the night: “Only the dead have seen the end of war … Only the dead have seen the end of war … Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

There are signs and warnings as stark and frightening as any dreamed by John as he feverishly described the Apocalypse. The Four Horsemen — the coronavirus pandemic, the global economic crash, rising inequality, and the climate catastrophe — gallop across the globe, laughing the laugh of maniacs, slaying with exultant abandon. Desperate people are dying as they flee or dying as they lie abandoned in dusty villages, dark alleys, and glass-studded gutters. Brown children are torn from their mother’s arms, a murderous reverse abortion, and locked in concentration camps, lost souls in soulless places. Black men are lynched in broad daylight on the streets of American cities. The filth of our civilization pollutes the air, the water, our bodies, and the bodies of every living thing.

“The Centre cannot hold!” Yeats cried. “The old is dying but the new cannot be born; now is the time of monsters,” warned Gramsci. Yet we are urged to move to the complacency of the Center, as if it were an oasis in the desert. We are asked to deny the reality of our lived experience: The Center is the gateway to hell, where we must, like Dante, “all hope abandon.”

“In times of profound change, the learners inherit the earth, while the learned find themselves beautifully equipped to deal with a world that no longer exists.”

Eric Hoffer

The Center did not hold, and the fabled and feared monsters of humankind’s own creation roam boldly beneath the hot sun. Populism, Nationalism, and Know-Nothingness are reborn and suckled by greed. Like Dantes’ three-headed Cerebus, they are ravenous, devouring everything: institutions, laws, traditions, norms of behavior. Everything.

“The heart of the discerning acquires knowledge, for the ears of the wise seek it out.”

Proverbs 18:15

The Center did not hold and now is the time of monsters. We cannot await their natural death; there are no magical potions or protective charms to defend us. We must find and strangle them with our bare hands. “All changed, changed utterly: A terrible beauty is born,” Yeats sighed.

---

Part III

Shantideva, an 8th-century Buddhist monk and scholar, asked: “Can you be a bodhisattva? Can you love everyone and not become suffocated by the pain?”

Journal Entry #1

5/12/2020

 

This is my experiment in public journaling. A couple of people that I respect do something similar, so I thought I’d try my hand at it. I may not post every day, or in this format (some days I may find little to be grateful for!), but I will attempt to post several times per week. It’s a way of disciplining myself to write, and to capture thoughts that don’t seem to have a home of their own. I will try to avoid making every post about politics.

---

 

1. What I’m grateful for today:

 

a. Dr. Anthony Fauci, Director, National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, National Institutes of Health. Dr. Fauci became the director of NIAI in 1984, during the HIV/AIDS crisis, so he’s been at this game for a long time. He’s a voice of reason and evidence in a fact-free administration. He’s 79 years-old, so clearly he likes what he’s doing or he’d be retired. What isn’t clear is how much longer Mr. Trump will allow him to do the job. Dr. Fauci’s careful, reasoned perspective may yet save us all.

 

b. Dr. Heather Cox Richardson, Professor of History, Boston College. Dr. Richardson is the author of several books (most recently, How the South Won the Civil War: Oligarchy, Democracy, and the Continuing Fight for the Soul of America, which I recommend) and she teaches American history. More importantly, Dr. Richardson is engaged in active public outreach. She writes daily “Letters from an American” in which she analyzes contemporary events through the lens of political history. She also offers twice a week history discussions (free) on her Facebook page. She’s a very rare, reasoned voice.

 

c. Dr. Marie Schwab Miller. Dr. Miller is a retired microbiologist who writes a daily analysis of COVID-19 news. She focuses on explaining the science and epidemiology of the pandemic, and her explanations are clear and engaging. If I have a question about the virus, I check her posts on Facebook first.

 

2. What I’m not grateful for today:

 

a. Mr. Trump, but that’s a given.

 

b. Liberals. I’m one of the administrators of an American history site. More than 99 percent of the members are liberals (there are a handful of nervous conservatives and I am, as far as I can tell, the only radical). People join the site because they value well-reasoned history and perspective.

 

But here’s the rub. One of the professors on the site is frequently challenged as being “too liberal.” At one point, he was even on a conservative watch list (really, a harassment list), accused by conservatives of indoctrinating students. He was really on the list because the professor’s interpretation of American history differed from the history conservatives wanted taught. The professor considers himself to be an American patriot.

 

The professor insists that he views events from the perspective of history and the available documentation, so the labels liberal or conservative don’t apply. I agree that he follows, as rigorously as he can, the available documentation, but that doesn’t preclude him from viewing the world in a certain way, which colors his interpretations. However, his “liberalness” is mostly the liberalness of a liberal education in the best sense of that term: The Humanities, broadly considered. That’s not the same thing as being a political liberal, but it is something of which many conservatives are suspicious.

 

So why am I not grateful for liberals today? Well, many of the political liberals on the site – each of whom claims to respect the work of historians who argue from the available evidence – fail to follow the example of the historians. Members don’t read beyond article titles before commenting. They argue against straw men. If they form an “argument” at all, it ignores evidence or is poorly reasoned. They spread conspiracy theories. They rant. They insult. They can’t write grammatical, much less graceful, sentences. They … do everything liberals accuse Mr. Trump and his followers of doing, except for toting long rifles to the state capitol.

 

Their excuses when challenged? Well, these are desperate times and we must rally against Mr. Trump without delay or dissent. Nuance is a waste of time in this battle. If you liked Elizabeth Warren or Bernie Sanders you were a fool, because they were never going to win the nomination, so leave your childish ways and come play with the big boys. If you aren’t willing to fall on your sword for Mr. Biden, then you’re a closet sympathizer of Mr. Trump (members never write “Mr. Trump,” but I won’t bore you with the unimaginative details – suffice it to say that I’ve been criticized for prefacing his last name with the honorific “Mr.”).

 

As an Admin, I read and approve/disapprove posts. I police – that’s the only word for it – the comments to weed out vulgarity and personal attacks. I attempt to steer the conversations away from fact-free rants and toward something that resembles reasoned discourse (a fool’s errand!). I also write articles and a “Today in History” segment for the site. And there are always odd research jobs to do (mostly, tracking down sources and documents). I consider what I and the other Admins and Moderators do as part of a larger project of adult education in the liberal tradition (again, not the liberal political tradition, the liberal education tradition).

 

I don’t really mind the abuse from people angry because I didn’t approve their post (which failed to meet our published guidelines!), or because I deleted an obnoxious comment they so happily wielded like a surgeon’s knife. I’ve been on the internet almost from the beginning, so I’m not surprised by abuse.

 

What’s dismaying is that so many people fail to live up to the standards they profess to admire: reasoned arguments based on evidence. Yes, I know many evangelical Christians fail to do so, but liberals are, or should be, aware of the problem and make an effort to rise above it. Otherwise, we’re just like “them.”

 

I’m sorry to say that oftentimes – much of the time – that’s exactly who we’re like.

The Anti-Science Tradition in America

I wrote this in response to a question posed in a Facebook group. The question was, “Is the anti-science sentiment of the Trump administration new to America?” The answer, alas, is no.

Anti-science sentiment an old problem, beginning with the Scopes Trial in 1925 (anti-evolution). It was muted during the 1930s, because of the discovery of penicillin (and, later, other drugs), and during WWII and immediately after because of the contributions of science and technology to national defense, something which continued to be true throughout the Cold War. We were also enamored by the race to land a man on the moon.

(By the way, May 5th was the anniversary of the arrest of John Scopes, the Tennessee teacher who agreed to be arrested so the ACLU could argue against the Tennessee law in court.)

But the truce with science was short-lived. The chemical industry, with an eye on its bottom line, attacked Rachel Carson after she published “Silent Spring” in 1962, and attacks escalated (cigarette manufacturers, the oil and gas industry) throughout the 1960s and beyond, all by corporations worried about profits.

Conservative evangelicals ramped-up attacks on evolution, especially in the late 1990s and 2000s, and the anti-vax movement began around the same time.

Except for Nixon, most Republican administrations have been anti-science to some degree, because they reject environmental controls, and many had doubts about climate change.

Not all anti-science sentiment is on the right, however. The belief in astrology is found on both the left and the right, as are anti-vaxxers. A lot of the opposition to GMOs is from the left, and it’s based on a misunderstanding of science (and agricultural history, for that matter). I’m not saying, “all GMOs are good,” but I am saying that some of the opposition is based, at a minimum, on a misunderstanding of science.

Still, the scope and intensity of anti-science sentiment is unique to Trump’s administration. As the article points out, though, only about a quarter of Americans are anti-science; it seems like more than that because they’re vocal (the internet, the result of science and technology, is their friend) and politicians use them for their own ends.

We do have quite a strong tradition, beginning with two founders, Benjamin Franklin and Benjamin Rush, of celebrating science. We even have near contemporary scientists as pop heroes — Carl Sagan and the British scientist Stephen Hawking come to mind — so it’s not all doom and gloom.

But as more and more deaths are recorded from the coronavirus outbreak, I suspect there will be two reactions: a demand for more evidence-based tools (including vaccination) and a retreat, by some, into non-evidence-based, religious or quasi-religious alternatives. (As a side note, the Nazis had a strong mystical element in their propaganda that was effectively anti-science, in the sense of being non-evidenced based).

Which side wins will depend, I think, on who wins the 2020 elections, because if Trump wins, he won’t support science. Deaths will multiply, and desperate people will seek “alternative solutions” that aren’t solutions at all. The scientific enterprise won’t flourish because of the active resistance at the highest levels of government; not only will funding be in short supply, scientists themselves may become victims of groups frightened by the virus. Many people already believe the virus was lab-created (by the Chinese, by the CIA, by … who knows), so “responsibility” for the deaths can easily be attributed to science and scientists. Political leaders may encourage the attacks to bolster their control.

This possibility brings to mind a famous science fiction short story written by Isaac Asimov, Nightfall, in which cultists attack a scientist. It was voted the best science fiction story of all time, and I think it describes what could be — not necessarily what will be — one of our possible futures.

Marching Off to War

The federal government is watering down/withdrawing its guidance on when it might be safe for governors to “open up” states for business, and many states now refrain from releasing state-level COVID-19 death toll numbers. These aren’t unrelated actions, and I think they provide important information about America’s future.

To begin: we should be angry that states are withholding information that inhibits our ability to make decisions about our safety. One avenue of resistance might be the ACLU. Is there a legal basis for withholding information that’s not related to national defense? Perhaps the courts are a means of redress.

But what’s more important, is that actions like these are part of the Republican attempt to construct a narrative. President Trump commented the other day that Americans were “soldiers” who needed to get into action. What’s implied is that we should fight for the capitalism rather than against the virus. If that’s our goal, then information about the spread of the disease isn’t important, because the real fight is for the economy.

The Pentagon, many weeks ago, stopped reporting infection rates in the military. There’s actually a reason for this: if it becomes evident that our ranks are being depleted by the virus, our “adversaries” might feel emboldened to take some action against our interests. An admiral said as much when he assured the world that the U.S. military remains ready, despite the virus, to deter all enemies. Not releasing personnel strength is, in this context, part of OPSEC, or Operational Security, and it’s nothing new.

So, if we’re soldiers fighting for capitalism, death rates related to the virus, or plans for the phased reopening of the economy, aren’t important. In fact, such information may reduce effectiveness and give ammunition to the “enemy” — in this case, those who are cautious about returning to work.

It’s this narrative that we must fight against, not just the decision by states to withhold information (although that fight is important).

What’s our counter-narrative? If we push back against the notion that we must sacrifice ourselves for the economy (and we should), how do we do that in an emotionally appealing way that is also based on fact (what rhetoric do we use)? What options do we offer the “foot soldiers” who might want to resist, but are compelled to return to work to put food on the table? How do we change the calculations of politicians who are crafting legislation and aid packages so that it becomes politically risky for them to push the “we’re soldiers for capitalism” narrative?

This is where the study of history become relevant because there have been other times when grand narratives were constructed for deadly ends but were successfully resisted. We can turn to them (as Dr. Richardson does) to find ways of constructing a new narrative that is life affirming rather than life destroying. FDR’s Four Freedoms speech might be useful, as are any number of MLK’s speeches. The Poor People’s Campaign, led by Rev. Barber, also contains useful visions and rhetoric. Bernie Sanders is good with rhetoric. George Lakoff’s ideas will help. We simply must exert the effort to craft and deploy the narrative.

Woe Unto Those Born in Comfortable Times

Modern advertising arose from the propaganda techniques developed by Edward Bernays and others when, at the request of Woodrow Wilson, they “sold” America’s entry into World War I to an initially reluctant public (plus Wilson jailed anti-war protesters, most notably Eugene Debs).

Propaganda and advertising “manufacture discontent”; that is, they make people desire for something, anything, they don’t have, even if their material needs are otherwise satisfied. The new perfume. The latest car. Golden french fries. A flat stomach. Clothes that attract sexual partners. The list is endless because discontent is easily manufactured.

Buddhists say the cause of unhappiness is discontent (sometimes translated as suffering), an insight taught long before propaganda and advertising made their debuts. This Buddhist insight, combined with the reality of propaganda and advertising deliberately creating discontent, may explain a great deal of the turmoil of the 20th and 21st centuries in the Global North (and increasingly in the Global South, as standards of living — and expectations — rise).

When the climate catastrophe begins to reduce material well-being (as it will), the psychological trauma will be enormous, because it will create a longing for a former world (the consumer society) that was based on manufactured discontent, while at the same time forcing an acknowledgement that the manufactured discontent of consumer society is the root cause of their current unhappiness (suffering). Perhaps there will be a new proverb: Woe unto those who lived during comfortable times, for their suffering shall be great.

Two Poems

I, myself, remember

The plunge

Into water so icy

I burned.

You

Sat in the sun

Wearing a leaf-dappled dress

That danced with the whirlwind,

Promising nothing.

The way of a man with a woman,

The way of a snake on a rock,

Is the way of the world.

---

 

Memory is an immigrant

Wandering, with thirst as a possession

Along

A faint trail through the night-shrouded forest

Of the past,

Palimpsest clues queried anxiously

In search of destiny, or security, or even

A smile.

The chase becomes the chase

Of the chase.

Or a moth, somnolent by day,

Alive by devious design only

At night,

Circling, circling, circling

For no earthly reason but compulsion

Around the fiercely bright flame

Of a midsummer fire-memory,

Until the mad thinker

Consummates

Existence in the transformation.

Or a fugitive at night,

Moving stealthily, illegitimately,

Purposely

Until he vanishes from the careful eyes

And florid demands

Of being.

What he was, with whom, becomes

Inexact.

Molecules and atoms flee his particular.