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Comedy: Notes on Bergson’s “Laughter”

January 17, 2020

I’ve been busy reading Bergson and haven’t posted in awhile.  In the interest of providing some content and maybe getting feedback, I’m offering a portion of the notes I took.

 

NOTES ON BERGSON’S “LAUGHTER”

 

 

 

The first point to which attention should be called is that the comic does not exist outside the pale of what is strictly HUMAN.

—–Henri Bergson[1]

 

This appears to be wrong. Studies indicate that apes, and perhaps all mammals “laugh” in some form.[2] Several species of mammals have been observed making distinctive “happy noises” when play-fighting, and have been observed tickling and enjoying being tickled. Scientific studies of non mammalian humor are rarer, but I am aware of several apparent incidents of humor among parrots. My wife’s black capped conure enjoys peek-a-boo. Another pet owner says her parrot calls the cat using their owner’s voice, then barks like a dog when the cat appears. A friend told us one day her parrot requested to be sprayed with a mist bottle: “Showie? Showie?” When she got the bottle to give her a shower, the bird hid. As soon as she put it down, the bird again asked for a shower. It seemed to be a variation of the game humans play when they offer something and then pull it back. But the most elaborate story I heard was from my late father, about his African Grey named Smokey. As he told it:

 

When Smokey got lonely he’d call for me using (his wife) Debbie’s voice, or he’d call me using her voice. We would call down and ask, “Is that you?” and if we didn’t get an answer we’d know it was the bird. One day I was upstairs and I heard my wife calling, “Waite! Waite!” I called down, “Honey, is that you?” After a few seconds, I heard more insistently, “Waite! Waite!” So I rushed downstairs, Debbie was no where to be found, and that bird laughed at me——-IN MY VOICE!

 

The most human-like humor probably has come from Koko, the sign-language using gorilla, who engaged in puns and who once tied her human companion’s shoelaces together and then gave the sign for “chase.” One common element of all of these is some degree of social awareness. This is particularly seen in the parrots and Koko, who engaged in some sort of linguistic or communication-based humor. These relied on physical or verbals signs which the animal knew would give a predictable response; sometimes the animal seemed to enjoy frustrating the response, while at other times the invited response was part of the payoff for the animal, but always there was some social reasoning involved. In the tickling or rough-housing behaviors, the “laughter” seems to be a signal that everyone is enjoying it and it’s not serious. For example, among rats there’s a certain sound made when rats of roughly equal sizes play-fight, but when one is much larger it apparently becomes a lot less fun and the rat-laughter ceases.[3]

I personally don’t think of tickling as “humor,” but more as one of a range of laughter-producing stimuli. Some people laugh due to some neurological condition, and scientists can evoke “laughter” from rats by electrical brain stimulation as well as by tickling their tummies. Among animals, we would say it seems more like “humor” when it is playful, “all in good fun.” Laughter is an expression of pleasure, and humor the art of provoking laughter in others. Humor would seem to require empathy, in that either knowing when the other is trying to be funny rather than threatening or knowing what the other will find funny requires some sense of how the other is likely to perceive things. A sense of humor may be a subcategory of the sense of the other as other. If Bergson is wrong about his view that humans are the only animal that laughs or is laughed at, that would in turn suggest that humor may be part of intelligence. Any animal can perceive when its needs are met and find some sort of pleasure in that; as Beethoven’s 9th symphony states, “even the worm can feel contentment.” The more sophisticated the brain, the more joy and more varieties of joy the animal can feel; and at some point this becomes what we would recognize as “humor.”

[1] Henri Bergson, Laugher: an essay on the meaning of the comic posted July 26, 2009 (https://www.gutenberg.org/files/4352/4352-h/4352-h.htm)

[2] Joseph Castro, “Do Animals Have Humor?” LiveScience Nov. 6, 2017 (https://www.livescience.com/60864-do-animals-have-humor.html) see also Peter McGraw and Joel Warner, “Do Animals Have a Sense of Humor? New Evidence Suggests All Mammals Have a Funny Bone;” Slate March 26, 2014 (https://slate.com/culture/2014/03/do-animals-have-a-sense-of-humor-new-evidence-suggests-that-all-mammals-have-a-funny-bone.html)

[3] McGraw/Warner

Comedy and Lies

January 9, 2020

Comedy and Lies

Two cannibals are eating a clown, and one turns to the other and asks, “Does this taste funny to you?
——-Tommy Cooper

The concept “funny” is ambiguous in the English language. We say, “You should go see that comedian. He’s so funny!” We also say, “Stay away from the tuna salad; it smells funny.” And when we say a $20 bill is “funny money,” we don’t mean either that it makes us laugh or that it’s spoiled; we mean it’s counterfeit. Is there a connection?
Even when we say, “It’s funny because it’s true,” we generally imply some sort of connection between comedy and falsehood. After all, if all true statements were funny or no factually false ones were, there would be no reason to say such a thing. When we say something’s funny because it is true, we mean it is true but in an unexpected way. Will Rogers said, “I don’t belong to any organized political party. I’m a Democrat.” The Democratic Party is an organized, recognized political party, so his statement seems self-contradictory; but when we recognize the ambiguity in the word “organized,” and compare it to some other “organized political parties,” we see it can also be true. The momentary confusion gives way to a realization of a truth; but if he’d simply said, “The Democratic Party is disorganized,” it wouldn’t be funny at all. There had to be a way that the statement was false before it had the possibility of humor.
So how is the “funny” of humor related to these others? The tuna smells “funny” because it isn’t what it seems to be; it looks edible and supposedly is healthy, but the smell suggests the appearances are deceptive. The money is “funny” because it looks like legal currency when it isn’t. Comedy too is not straight-up truthfulness, even if it is not straight-up lying either. Comedy is always a little “off.” It has a certain falseness, at least in being false to our expectations. “Stay away from the tuna, it smells funny tonight” is not humorous; but sung to the tune of “The Eye of the Tiger” it’s hilarious (Weird Al Yankovich, “The Rye or the Kaiser,” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGJd8FLAqRA; “The Rye or the Kaiser (Theme From Rocky XIII)” lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC). The statement may be true, false or simply fiction; but it is false to the context, it doesn’t fit, and thus it’s funny.
Sometimes a straight-up lie is funny. The classic example in American culture is the “big fish that got away” story. If the story is a straightforward “I hooked a bass that looked to be ten pounds but he got away,” it’s not funny even if it’s a lie. If the story is “I caught a huge fish but sharks ate it,” it’s not funny, it’s Hemingway. But if the story is colorful and wildly exaggerated, listeners will pay rapt attention and laugh even though they’re pretty sure the “fish” was half that size if it existed at all. There’s nothing funny about murder, or about accusing someone of murder; but when it’s done in a way that is so exaggerated as to be unbelievable, and we’re told it’s not true but the claim is repeated so often that it’s certain to be remembered, it is (if you’re into NSFW roasts (https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2x1bwa) for instance). The humor is the obvious falseness, which negates any pain that would exist if it were true.
The difference between a good lie and a good joke or schtick is that a good lie hides its deception, while humor revels in obvious falseness. Even if the story is true, what makes it funny is generally a falseness. I used to tell the story of my efforts to take my wife to the beach on the last day of our honeymoon, 24 hours with an average of one misadventure every two hours. The story was true, but what made it work for the audience was the falseness in the telling. An account that actually conveyed the frustration and anger would have left people not laughing, but merely uncomfortable. Comedy can be complete fiction or absolutely factual, so long as there is enough dishonesty to take away the sting of “real life” and leave the pleasure of sifting the true from the false.
Part of the joy of the humor, then, seems to be the discovery. The lies are exposed, or at least the lying is exposed since it isn’t funny if seems completely true. I once told a person that at the last meeting of the American Academy of Religion I had attended a panel discussion sponsored by the Society of Dyslexic Agnostics debating whether or not there is a Dog. She just nodded along. That line usually works because people notice the incongruous canine. Maybe she thought SAD is a real group. But if the audience sees through the confusion too quickly, it’s not much of a joke either. The principles of a good joke and a good detective story seem to be the same: enough confusion that the audience is temporarily perplexed, but a retrospective clarity so that they can look back to see how you got from the set-up to the finish.

Comedy: The Basics

January 6, 2020

Comedy: The Basics

The last time I went flying I started a game of Peek-a-Boo with a toddler in the seat in front of me. After the fifth time I had to grab him by the throat and say, “Look, no matter how many times you try this, it’s always going to be me.
——Rita Rudner

We are born crying; we must learn to laugh. I’m not sure what that says about life. Still, while we must learn how to laugh, we are not taught how to laugh; it seems to be one of those inborn traits of humanity, that unfolds naturally in the fulness of time. Babies are not generally known for having a “sense of humor,” even if they laugh readily. A baby who laughs a lot is said to be “happy,” not “joking.” I’ve been trying to pay attention to my grandson, and I tried to pay attention to my children before; and it seems that children first laugh spontaneously, from joy. When we took my grandson to Dinosaur World, he was so excited to see the full-sized models that he laughed and danced. This isn’t to say they were funny to him, but rather that they gave him joy. He also, like every child I’ve known, laughs in anticipation, like when he’s expecting a tickle. After all, what is so funny about peek-a-boo? It’s tremendously predictable and repetitive, the very opposite of humor for adults. But for a child, this seems to be the point. Young babies seem to be startled the first few times when the familiar face suddenly reappears, and then delighted. Later, as object permanence firms up, they take joy in anticipating the return of the missing face. So laughter is an expression of present or anticipated happiness.
Babies seem to laugh at funny faces, pratfalls and so on pretty early, particularly when an adult seems to show silliness or clumsiness. I’ve never seen a toddler laugh at another who fell down, but adults who pretend to fall but then pop up again smiling seem to be hysterically funny. Some young children may laugh even at a genuine fall where someone was hurt; but research today shows that an instinct for altruism also appears in toddlers at about (or shortly after) they begin to appreciate silly physical comedy. This leads me to think laughing at another’s pain is due to a lack of empathy, which is also to say a lack of maturity, or else perhaps a simple mistake where one does not realize the other is really hurt.
It is often said that children do not have a sense of humor, or have a terrible sense of humor, and have to learn what is funny. However, I saw an interview with a comedian years ago who made his living entertaining children, who said this isn’t true. Rather, small children are amused by different things, and in particular by the role-reversal of an adult who knows less than the child. The obvious example of this is the “Mr. Noodle” routines in Sesame Street’s “Elmo’s World” segments (such as here: Mr. Noodle). When the adult does something so silly that the child has to come in and become the teacher, that is funny to children. The physical humor of Mr. Noodle is part of the appeal, but clearly the role-reversal is part as well. Perhaps this is part of the well-known quality of humor to remove the pain of painful situations. The life of a small child is to be surrounded by giants, who are generally benevolent but can also be frightening and confusing. The child constantly tries to imitate these giants, and feels satisfaction when able to do it well. When an adult takes on the role of the child, pretending clumsiness and ignorance which need rescue by the superior understanding of the child, it is particularly funny to the kid. This is also the fun of later games of peek-a-boo where the child “hides” from the adult and pops up, and the adult feigns the surprise and delight which the infant once genuinely felt.
For the child, laughter is a natural expression of joy. For the adult, this sort of laughter becomes rarer. Comedy is the art of intentionally producing laughter, not through physical means like tickling and not spontaneously by simply giving joy. What distinguishes comedy from these other sorts of laughter is that something is done that is “funny,” which generally involves some sort of swerving from the “normal” or “expected” way things usually go in a way that gives pleasure.

Comedy as the Anti-Bullshit

January 2, 2020

Comedy as the Anti-Bullshit

One of the most salient features of our culture is that there is so much bullshit.

——-H. Frankfurt

Aside from Bergson’s essay, there has been relatively little philosophical discussion of comedy or the comic. There has been even less serious discussion of bullshit; in fact, there has been only one book on the subject, which itself was based on an essay by the same author. What is “bullshit,” and why should we care? Our initial thought is that we should not; one calls something “bullshit” to say it does not deserve our attention. Harry Frankfurt’s argument is that it is valuable to consider the concept of “bullshit” even if bullshit itself is not worth considering. ( Harry G. Franfurt, On Bullshit (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2005)) My humble opinion is that the concepts of bullshit and the comic have several connections, and understanding these helps clarify the meaning and significance of both.

Bullshit is not lying, though it is related and they can be confused. Sometimes we say, “That’s bull!” when what we mean is, “You’re lying!” But as Dr. Frankfurt points out, the two seem to be something different. The liar is deceptive about the facts. The liar wants you to believe something about the world is one way when in fact it is another. The liar knows what reality is; as they say, it isn’t a lie if you actually believe it (or more accurately, you’re not a liar if you believe it). The bullshitter is aiming at something else. The bullshitter wants to deceive about his or her self, motives and character. Let me suggest a relatively uncontroversial example. Suppose you heard your father loudly proclaim how wonderful your mother is, how smart, how funny, how she did a wonderful job raising you, how lovely she is and so on. And (for the sake of argument at least) suppose you agreed with everything he said. You wouldn’t say “It’s al lies;” it’s true. But suppose you know that she cries herself to sleep because of his numerous affairs, how he stays with her because the property is in her name, and how he privately shows little appreciation for her at all. Then you may say “It’s all bullshit!”——not that what he said was false, but that he was false in saying it, as if he cared. It’s not that he wants to deceive anyone about what his wife is like; he only cares that he deceive them about what he is like, so that they believe he’s a good, loving, loyal, appreciative husband.
The liar cares about the truth. The liar knows what the truth is and is engaged with it, specifically to avoid it. The concept of “lie” depends upon the concept of “truth;” you cannot have have a lie without there being a truth, and the lie can’t exist unless it is mistaken for a truth. The bullshitter, on the other hand, doesn’t care about the truth at all. (Bullshit, pp. 33-34) The bullshitter just wants to project an image, and says whatever suits that purpose. The actual content is irrelevant; the bullshitter need not even know what the truth is. If the lie is deliberate miscommunication or false communication, then bullshit isn’t communication at all. ( pp. 42-43) It is “false communication” in a second sense: not the communication of counterfeit truth, but a counterfeit of communication itself. (pp. 54-55) It suits the bullshitter just fine if we all give up on the idea of distinguishing between truth and falsehood completely; the bullshitter simply says whatever is useful to serve the purpose of the moment. Bullshit attacks the very existence of truth itself, and the relevance of truth to discussion. In this regard, Frankfurt says, bullshit is a greater enemy of truth than is lying.  ( pp. 60-61)

Comedy has elements in common with both lying and bullshit. One thing on which the philosophers and psychologists seem to agree is that comedy is based on contradiction. Something happens which is surprising and false, but in a way that gives pleasure. Roman occupiers executing a hundred people at a time is horrible. Those hundred people singing  “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” is hilarious.  The contradiction between the painful situation, the total painlessness of the people, the cheerfulness of the song, and the nihilistic lyrics presents something that has truth in it (“life is quite absurd, and death’s the final word”) in a way that takes the pain away. This bouncy tune, those words, and that situation just don’t go together. Kierkegaard might have said they mutually annihilate each other, as the different elements of irony do ( Søren Kierkegaard, The Concept of Irony: with continual reference to Socrates; edited ad translated, with introduction and notes by Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong [Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1989] p. 248). Much comedy comes from pain, presented in a way that renders it painless by rendering it absurd, thus meaningless and insignificant, unworthy of consideration. So lying, bullshit and comedy all rely on contradiction: lying on the contradiction between truth and what is claimed, bullshit on the contradiction between the real and purported attitude of the bullshitter to what is said, and comedy between what is said and how it is said.

     The liar and the comedian both rely on the truth. The liar wishes to avoid the truth, and produces a falsity which can be presented as truth. The comedian wishes, in many cases, to present truth but in a way that is not entirely true. The comedian may produce something outrageous in a way that evokes laughter rather than outrage; but still, as John Oliver said, “Any joke is worthless if it’s built upon a lie.” (David Folkenflik, “John Oliver on Facts, Donald Trump and The Supreme Court for Dogs;” Morning Edition (NPR, February 10, 2017, https://www.npr.org/2017/02/10/514152562/john-oliver-on-facts-donald-trump-and-the-supreme-court-for-dogs) ) Even in cases where the comedian is telling a story, what makes it funny is if it is relatable, that is, true to the human experience of the audience. And in the case of political humor in particular, that also means it needs to be factually true. A Hegelian might suggest that both lies and comedy are antitheses of some truth, and thus presentations (perhaps mirror images) of the truth. The difference is that the comedian intends to present the truth, though perhaps in a false way; the liar intends to hide the truth. But both differ from the bullshitter in that bullshit does not intend either to reveal or avoid the truth at all.

     Comedy also has elements in common with bullshit, so much that sometimes the two are confused as here. In both cases the performer is more concerned with the reaction of the audience than with the truth of the statement. There is a contradiction between what the performer says (or writes) versus the actual intentions. If you believe Huckleberry Finn or Blazing Saddles seriously mean the racist statements they contain, you find them horrifying (or, if you’re racist, perhaps not) but if you understand the joke and see the disconnection between the comedian’s words versus intentions, you see them as a satire on the racism of the characters and find it funny—-though, as they say, “funny because it’s true” as a true(ish) presentation of racists. The difference is that the bullshitter wants to be perceived as serious, while the comedian wants to be perceived as “just joking” even when he or she may in fact care a great deal about the message hidden in the joke.
Comedy can often “call out” real evils or real problems when a straightforward denunciation might be mistaken for bullshit. The bullshitter, after all, wants to be taken seriously even when he or she is in fact not serious; the comedian says, “Don’t take me seriously” even when saying very serious things. The parallels with Socrates are obvious even without the character of Comicus. Charlie Chaplain’s work is particularly striking in this regard; even without the spoken word, films such as Modern Times pointed out the dehumanizing aspects of early 20th century capitalism, while The Great Dictator called out Fascism at a time when many of America’s political and cultural leaders were praising Hitler.

     This is the real difference between comedy versus bullshit, and the real power of comedy. Bullshit relies on the covert contradiction. It appears to be communication, but it is not; it is just “hot air,” empty exhalation. The bullshitter wants to be taken as sincere, as caring about the words he or she is expressing. If it is seen to be what it is, it loses its power. Comedy, by contrast, relies on the explicit contradiction. This is true even of physical comedy, which appears for a moment to be painful or fatal but then is revealed to be harmless. Verbal comedy in its most frivolous forms (such as puns) depends on the hearer hearing one thing and then realizing that what was actually said and meant was something else. The pleasure comes from the realization of the contradiction. If the contradiction isn’t recognized by the audience, they are said to “miss the joke.”

     The lie gets its power from the concealed contradiction, in presenting a false claim as true. Bullshit gets its power from the concealed contradiction that the bullshitter doesn’t care and may not even know what the truth is, but wishes to seem sincere. Comedy gets its power from the revealed contradiction. This is why it is inherently comic to expose bullshit. When, in the classic fairy tale, the Emperor is tricked into walking down the street naked, what is hilarious is not the nudity. If it had been an act of religious humility, his society would have honored it; if he’d barely escaped from a fire, it might have been embarrassing but also fortunate. What makes it funny is that he was conned by a liar who saw he was vacuous, pretentious, or in short, bullshitting the people. The “tailor” was a straight-up liar, spinning not cloth but only tales of magical clothes that cannot be seen by fools. The Emperor, being a bullshitter, wanted to be seen as wise and was thus too ashamed to admit he could not see the clothes. The courtiers too were not trying to deceive the Emperor about the clothes; unlike the “tailor,” they believed the magical clothes existed, though they could not see them. They only wished to deceive others about what they themselves actually knew. When an ignorant, unpretentious child came along, and blurted out what everyone knew but was afraid to admit, the Emperor was exposed in more ways than one. It is the shame of being shown to have been a fool pretending to be so superior that he could see this magical suit, when actually there was nothing to see, that made the situation so hilarious.  Likewise, there’s nothing terribly funny about the Bible’s anti-gay statements, about a cleric denouncing homosexuality, or about a person living in the closet for fear of being rejected by family and friends, and possibly fired or otherwise harmed if his or her homosexuality became public knowledge. But when a stridently anti-gay preacher is outed by being caught up in a police raid on gay sex in a public bathroom, it becomes the fodder for countless jokes. What makes it funny is the revelation, showing that all that preaching and fulminating was nothing but bullshit.

     Bullshit is an essential tool of dictators and would-be dictators of all stripes. Whether their policies are in fact wise or stupid, they depend primarily on the people believing that the Dear Leader actually gives a damn about anyone else, or about the nation as a whole. That is why authoritarians hate real comedy; the bullshitter is a joke waiting to be made, and knows it, and thus fears being laughed at more than anything else.  Maybe that is part of why we seem to judge comedians more harshly than we judge our so-called “role models” and “pillars of society.” Today even the most conservative, subservient, obedient and reverent citizen these days has decided that the legal, political and religious leaders of society are just bullshit artists, and that even if the policies they advocate and carry out are good, they themselves are phonies. But the comedian is the one who is supposed to expose the frauds; to find out that the comedian is possibly also bullshitting is just too much. If that is the reason, then the real question should not be why we judge comedians so strictly, but why we don’t judge the others at all.

 

Star Trek and Impeachment:  how long should the impeachment trial last?  As long as Capt. Picard says it should.

December 26, 2019

Star Trek and Impeachment:  how long should the impeachment trial last?  As long as Capt. Picard says it should.

Counselor Deanna Troi: [explaining] While they’re learning how to communicate with Riva, they’ll be learning how to communicate with each other.
Lt. Commander Data: [interpreting] And that is the first and most important aspect of any relationship.

—–from Star Trek, The Next Generation, season 2, episode 5, “Loud as a Whisper” (1989, Paramount Studios)

     The fundamental divide within our nation is not religious, political or even moral; it is epistemological. We do not see the same reality, so how could we hope to agree on solutions? Some even claim there is no “reality,” just a war of wills between those with “facts” and those with “alternative facts.” Did Donald Trump commit crimes worthy of impeachment? How can we agree, when we don’t even agree with what a “crime” is, what words like “I’d like you to do us a favor though” mean, what “interference” in an election means, or any other independent reality?
If Donald Trump is removed from office, that will not heal the divide in our nation. If Donald Trump is quickly acquitted, that will not heal the divide in our nation. While polls suggest that most people agree that he did things that are immoral and unfit for our nation’s leader, there is debate even there about whether the crimes were “high” enough to justify impeachment. And some people, looking at the same evidence, claim there is no crime at all, not even a questionable act.
Every major intelligence agency of our nation agrees that Russia, and Russia alone, illegally interfered in the 2016 elections. Even the U.S. Senate Intelligence Committee, run by Republicans, agrees that this is true. Yet Republican senators, who supposedly listened to those reports and who voted to accept those reports into the Congressional record as facts, publicly deny them. Often they simply refuse to even look at such evidence at all, preferring the news feed from RT over any direct briefing from the CIA.
This is not political partisanship. This is epistemological apartheid: two populations side-by-side, with no language in common, no shared reality, virtually forbidden to communicate with one another. Is there an escape from this trap?
If anyone knew (or will know, it gets confusing) political impasses, it was (will be?) Capt. Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise. Thousands of inhabited planets, each with radically different cultures, languages, histories and values, each with competing interests, and one diplomatic misstep could lead to war that could possibly extinguish any or all of these and kill billions of sentient beings. While he had an arsenal of weapons at his command, often the problems were those that could not be solved by a war of wills or weapons. Often the task was to end a war, or stop one before it started. In such situations, what was needed was communication: and before that, the foundation of communication, a shared reality.
Two examples come to mind. The first is from Star Trek, TNG’s second season, the episode “Loud as a Whisper.” The story revolves around a planet which has virtually destroyed its civilization through warfare, and now has finally decided to seek peace between the two enemy factions. They have requested a famous diplomat from another planet, someone with no ties to either side, to mediate between them. The diplomat is actually mute; he has an extrasensory bond with three interpreters, who express his thoughts and emotions. However, at the first peace meeting, one of the two negotiating parties attempts to kill the mediator rather than give up the war that has defined his life. The assassination attempt fails because everyone else realizes that endless war is pointless; the assassin is tackled and his shot goes wild, missing the diplomat but raking his interpreters with deadly fire. Suddenly, this great negotiator is not only deprived of his greatest tool—-his “chorus” of interpreters who provided him not only a voice but also different perspectives——but he is now unable to communicate. He uses a sign language that no one on the ship understands. He is isolated, and the two sides have no mediator.
This seemingly insurmountable problem becomes an asset. Both delegations still want peace and want the mediator to resume his work. He cannot do this without a way to communicate. He resolves therefore to teach them his sign language. By learning to speak to him, they’ll be learning to speak to each other, something they have not done for more than a generation of constant warfare. It may take many months before any but the most rudimentary communication between the mediator and the warring parties is possible, but the whole time they will be engaged in the joint project of learning this new skill, working together, and helping the diplomat help them. The fact that it will take months or maybe years is an asset; they’ve been killing each other for years, and the war was never going to end in a day. This first, drawn-out project will be the start of their reconciliation.
The second episode I thought of was “Darmok.” In this case, an alien culture is seeking to negotiate directly with the Federation and with Capt. Picard. While they have technology that allows them to understand the words each is saying, the cultures are so different that they cannot understand what the other means by those words. The humans use words like you do; the other race, the Tamarians, communicate through metaphor. This is such an important part of their culture that they cannot even think in any other way; but without knowing the story to which their words refer, no one else can know what those words mean. It’s as if I said, “Archie Bunker” in response to something you said. If you knew that Archie Bunker was a bigoted character in the 1960s sitcom “All in the Family,” you’d know I was calling you a bigot. But if you didn’t know the story, you’d have no idea what I meant even if the words were comprehensible. So the aliens have a problem; they want to establish communication, but even though they understand the words the other side is using, neither understands the other’s meaning.
The solution, again, is a joint project. The Tamarian captain traps himself and Capt. Picard on a planet with a dangerous beast, which they can defeat only by cooperating. As a culture that communicates entirely through stories, they set up a situation where the two captains must work together, and the story of this cooperation becomes the context of future communication. It will clearly not be a fast or easy process, but a rushed process would not solve the underlying problem: a lack of shared context.
The current political situation in the United States has been called “a civil cold war.” I was a child in the 1960s and vividly remember television references to “the generation gap” even if I was too young to be part of that conflict. In addition to the clash between the military-aged and their elders who started the war and sent them to fight, there was the ongoing struggle of non-whites and of women to be treated as equal human beings. But I don’t have the impression that the divisions between the two sides were ever as stark as they are now: more violent, but not more decisive. For the most part, people got their news from the same sources. They knew what the issues were and what words meant. Some may have thought Martin Luther King Jr. was a dangerous Communist agitator while others saw him as a Christian peacefully crusading for justice, but at least both sides understood what “Communist” and “justice” meant; the gulf between them was largely about facts and values. Today people who fight to protect children throw thousands in cages, sometimes to die alone or to simply disappear by the hundreds if not thousands, because the “children” they care about are unborn; those already born are on their own. Others say that an “unborn child” is like an “unbuilt car:” not a thing at all but only the potential for one. If we can’t even agree what a person is, how can we decide whether something is an unjust crime against people? How can we decide whether a leader’s excesses are the necessary price we pay to protect hundreds of thousands of “tiny unborn persons” or simply crimes with no excuse except the grievance and will-to-power of his supporters?
Some of this confusion is genuine; groups with different views and values, different metaphysical assumptions and so on deriving different ethical injunctions. Some of this confusion is intentionally created. Russian political scientists have openly discussed their theory of “managed democracy” where the government attempts to create a “post-truth” society as a means to keep the people disorganized, divided and therefore more easily controlled. Whether the divide is natural or manufactured, the result is the same: a society divided not only by competing economic theories or moral philosophies, but even by different epistemic worlds. We don’t agree what truth is, how to find it or even whether it exists. In this situation, I think the great negotiator Riva from “Loud as a Whisper” would agree that what we need is to take the time to recreate a shared reality, a shared frame of reference. The impeachment of Donald Trump is one opportunity to begin this process. A thorough investigation, a lengthy and careful trial, would not only discover the events that actually occurred, but would also establish the meaning of those events. And what is at least as important, even though it would be an adversarial situation (prosecution and defense) it would also be a joint project. A well-played sporting event is a joy to its viewers, no matter who wins, so long as both sides agree in the end that the result was fair. Those who can’t agree are known to be “bad sports.” The fact is that just as you can’t have a football game without two teams, you can’t have a trial without two sides; the adversaries need each other.
What is more fundamental, and most important at this time, is that a real trial would have to be one that accepts the principle that truth matters. Did the President of the United States violate the law, violate his oath of office, and use taxpayer money to secure personal advantages for himself at the expense of national security? That is a factual question; it is either true or false. Did Putin’s government actively and covertly attempt to undermine our free elections, and is he working to do this again, as the Senate Intelligence Committee and 17 U.S. intelligence agencies say? Or is the real “interference” the fact that some Ukrainian official wrote an op-ed article, openly using his own name, expressing his opinion that Donald Trump should not give vast swaths of Ukrainian territory to Putin? Does the factual reality, the truth, matter, or is the only thing that matters whether some claim suits the agenda of some politician?
What this nation needs, more than anything, is a return to a belief in objective reality. When I was a kid, we had race riots, anti-war riots, corruption, the Kent State Massacre, the Weathermen, and more. We had real troubles. But we didn’t have a major political party and millions of people denying objective reality, rejecting science as some sort of conspiracy, rejecting medicine, and even arguing that education was bad because people who know stuff tend to disagree with the party. We had plenty of paranoia, and sometimes it turned out the paranoids were right; but we didn’t have people actually in the government denying everything they heard from over a dozen of our own intelligence agencies. In that sort of situation, we need some long-term work to re-establish a shared frame of reference. A serious investigation of Mr. Trump’s guilt would do that. It would presumably allow witnesses on both sides: the side that says Trump was pressuring Ukraine to cook up evidence to smear a political rival, and the side that says that there was something terribly wrong in Ukraine that Mr. Trump was legitimately investigating. This would in turn raise the question of where each side was getting its information and how it was validating its claims, which would raise the more fundamental question of how we can establish “truth” in any functional sense so that communication is possible. By contrast, having a one-week “trial” in the Senate would allow no time for serious debate about how either side decides whether to believe any particular claim, and would reduce everything to a mere power-play that solves nothing.
Maybe there is no “objective truth” that is free from personal interpretation or projection. Even if you say this, you must also agree that there are degrees of distortion. People of differing cultures and values can work together to solve problems. We may disagree about many things, but we can generally distinguish between those with whom we disagree versus those who are seriously crazy. If we’re trying to avoid drowning in a flood, say, and five people are filling sandbags to reinforce the levy while one is killing cats because cats are agents of Satan, we don’t just say, “Well, he’s got alternative facts.” We don’t just say, “Five of us think sandbags are the way to go, so we decide what’s true.” We look at whether killing cats has ever solved any problem, such as the Plague in Medieval Europe, and we find it hasn’t. We look for some rational reason to believe killing cats might help the situation, and can see no causal connection such as we usually see in other areas of life. On the other hand, we do find instances where sandbags have helped, and our past experience suggests that it is the sort of thing that would be useful. We might also consider the dangers of adopting a sandbag strategy versus the dangers of ignoring the levies and just hunting cats. We would decide that the stakes are too high to do nothing, that the course of action most likely to help was to fill sandbags, and would decide that the person who refused and instead ran around killing cats was (at best) a useless loony. The need to work together, coupled with the urgency of the situation, would force us to make judgments about shared reality and how we can judge truth. In calmer times, we might have just left the cat-hater to his superstition; but when the flood waters are rising, the “he’s entitled to his own opinion” that suggests epistemological relativism becomes “we don’t have time for your nonsense anymore.” The past successes of filling sandbags during floods, versus the failure of felinicide, would give us a practical, pragmatic way to sift likely truth from probable falsehood. If our species could never apprehend the world with any accuracy, we’d have died out a long time ago; so we are capable of some truth, and should try to find it.
The first step towards making the divides in our society manageable and possibly even productive is to decide to seek to treat reality first as a matter for investigation rather than power struggles. No doubt struggles will continue even after all the facts are established as well as they can be, and that is fine. But unless we can at least agree what it is we disagree about, there can be nothing but fighting without end. Democracy is, in the end, a way to have internal struggles without destroying our society, by agreeing to shared rules of engagement and conflict resolution. The only alternative is violence.

They Booed Trump at the World Series:  What Does That Mean?

October 29, 2019

They Booed Trump at the World Series:  What Does That Mean?

There’s been a lot of discussion in the press about events October 27, 2019.  First, Americans woke up to hear that the founder and leader of DAESH or ISIS had been killed in a nighttime raid in Syria.  He was a brutal and seemingly power-mad terrorist, even compared to Osama bin Laden, and the violent death of a person who celebrated rape, slavery, torture and murder is good news for anyone who loves justice.  As the Commander in Chief of the US military, Donald Trump clearly expected at least a little boost in his popularity.  You could argue that he should have gotten enormous praise and gratitude, not in the sense that he was morally owed anything but rather in the sense that if you light a fuse and it burns down to the dynamite and nothing happens, you say, “That should have exploded.”  Something unexpected and seemingly unnatural happened; instead of cheers or even polite applause, Donald Trump was jeered and booed the very day he announced that one of America’s most vicious enemies had been killed.  Why is that?

There have been many comments made about the way Trump announced the death of Baghdadi.  Obama announced the death of bin Laden with little prior build-up.  It came totally unexpectedly.  In fact, right before the raid he was going through one of the traditional Washington rituals, the White House Correspondents Dinner Roast.  He mocked himself and was mocked by others; he also teased others.  He was funny and seemed relaxed, as if nothing special was happening.  A few hours later, he was in the White House listening in real time while the raid played out, so that if any major decisions needed to be made or major announcements made, good or bad, he’d be there to do so.  When the raid was over and the troops safely on their way home, he made a relatively dignified speech congratulating and thanking all those involved, even the military who weren’t always his biggest fans because he had not served and had made decisions many disagreed with.

By contrast, during the actual raid to kill Baghdadi, Trump was golfing, enjoying his weekly multi-million dollar taxpayer-funded personal pleasure.  Then he tweeted about an upcoming big announcement, teasing it like it was the new Star Wars trailer or something.  When he finally made his announcement, it seemed to many to be self-congratulatory, to reveal operational details better kept secret, and to be generally undignified and unworthy of the president of the United States.  While Obama had emphasized that the body of bin Laden had been buried with the dignity we’d give one of our own, Trump repeatedly spoke of how humiliated Baghdadi had been, “whimpering” and dying “like a dog.” While Obama had notified leaders of both parties, Trump notified the Russians but not his real enemies, the Democrats, American citizens, most of whom have handled secret materials for years without leaking it.  And many were quick to note that when bin Laden was killed, Donald Trump was one of the first to say that Obama did not deserve any credit because he was merely the President; so why, critics asked, should Trump get any credit now when he had no more to do with killing Baghdadi than Obama had to do with killing bin Laden?

All of this, however, strikes me as beside the point.  Ultimately, while these considerations might have warranted rebuking Trump’s boorish and narcissistic messaging or his hypocrisy, it doesn’t explain the chants of “Lock Him Up!” by tens of thousands of people on live, international television.  Something much more is going on here. 

Tamara Keith of PBS Newshour was onto part of it when she pointed out that bin Laden was a much bigger force in most Americans’ minds than Baghdadi ever was.  Al Qaeda killed thousands of Americans in one day on live television; DAESH sought to establish its caliphate on the other side of the world, and most of its victims were Syrians and Iraqis.  Newshour also pointed out that while Obama got a popularity boost after the killing of bin Laden, it didn’t last; wile he got a month or two versus the hours at most that Trump earned, ultimately it partisanship took hold in both cases.  The difference between the two cases was not as different as it might first seem; still, it’s worth asking why Trump didn’t earn even the temporary boost Obama got.

When Obama took office, there were two great threats hanging over our collective heads:  the Great Recession and radical Islamist terrorism.  Killing bin Laden symbolically took care of one of these, while the Obama economic plan, including the bailout of the auto industry, helped with the other.  Before Obama took office, economists predicted that recovery from the Great Recession would be slow and uneven; some of the jobs lost would never come back, though others would replace them.  Sadly, that prediction proved true; some areas of our country never really recovered, though overall the economy has grown steadily through most of the Obama administration and into Trump’s.  The result was a balkanization of our fears.  In rural areas, and many manufacturing areas, the economy continued to be a source of anxiety; but for most of the nation, things were slowly looking up.  Areas where jobs were scarce and immigrants relatively unknown, the fear of Islamic terrorism grew to a general xenophobia; not only were foreigners seen as terrorists and criminals, but also as competitors for the scarce jobs.  But in more developed areas, there were enough jobs that immigrants were seen not as competitors as much as a necessary part of the work force.  People who knew Muslims first-hand didn’t fear them all, but distinguished between them.  So while Obama addressed the concerns of most Americans, Trump addressed himself to the needs of only a limited portion.

According to opinion polls, more Americans are worried about mass shootings and domestic terrorism than they are about Mexicans or ISIS.  More Americans worry about Russian hackers than about whether #MeToo is unfair to men.  While Trump voters fear illegal aliens voting, voters in other areas have dealt with real election fraud:  the Republican Secretary of State in Georgia sabotaging voting machines in black neighborhoods, the Republican candidate in North Carolina literally stealing ballots from Democratic voters, thousands of legal citizens being blocked from voting around the nation by Voter ID laws designed to handicap legal citizens, and so on.  The problems most Americans fear are not being solved by Trump.  In fact, Donald Trump seems to exacerbate those problems.  He doesn’t fight mass shootings; he defends the NRA, which even the GOP-controlled Senate concedes is a Russian asset, and which fights to preserve the rights of suspected terrorists, domestic abusers and the mentally ill to have military-grade weapons.  He doesn’t fight to ensure that all citizens can vote; he supports voter suppression and voter suppressors.  He doesn’t fight foreigners undermining our elections; he encourages and even forces them to intervene to help him.  And most tellingly, while he touts his fight against Islamic terrorism, more Americans have been killed or threatened by white supremacist terrorism which often cites Trump-favored information sources like Breitbart and InfoWars, or even quotes Trump himself.  We’ve had mass shootings, white supremacist riots, and bombing attempts, all citing Trump’s words in support and loyalty to him as their motive.  In short, to most Americans, Donald Trump is a more obvious and all-encompassing danger than Baghdadi was on his best day. 

Why did they boo Donald Trump at Game 5 of the World Series?  Because they hate Trump, sure.  But why?  Is it, as Trump supporters claim, because those 40,000 people simply hate America?  That would be stupid; this is where we keep our stuff, so why would we blow it up?  Is it “Trump Derangement Syndrome,” an irrational blind hatred of all things Trump?  Again, no.  The hatred and anger flows from the fact that Trump is felt to be a threat, a greater threat than any other, the nexus of most or all of the fears and anxieties of the majority of Americans.  He supports the terrorists most of us fear, the ones who shoot up schools and shopping malls and churches:  the white supremacists, the incels, the people who just collect guns so that when their anger boils over they’ll be ready to make the universe pay.  He accepts the praise of those who literally proclaim him the new Christ, and who threaten to unleash civil war in God’s name if he is opposed. 

I don’t think most of the people in that ballpark thought about this explicitly.  They reacted emotionally, as a result of conscious reasoning and unconscious perception.  The two things Trump can most credibly brag about are simply not the two things most people fear the most; and the things they do fear the most are things they associate with him.  Booing Donald Trump feels like booing Nazis and other “very fine people,” like booing the El Paso shooter and the Charlottesville driver and all the other terrorists who have quoted him, like booing climate change and all the entitled billionaires who fight to keep it happening, like booing the corruption of government officials who funnel tax money into their businesses while brazenly shaking down lobbyists for “donations.”  In a real sense, Donald Trump is a symbol, a bigger-than-life character, the way bin Laden was and Baghdadi is not, at least not for Americans.  And while for many Americans he’s a symbol of fighting social and economic changes that unsettle traditional values, for a return to the America they remember from their childhood, when America was Great, for many more he’s a symbol of chaos, random violence, political violence, oppression, environmental chaos of floods, fires, melting glaciers and mass extinctions, of religious oppression, and an attack on Hope itself. 

I side with the jeering masses, the booers, the chanters, the displeased.  I see two great forces struggling for control of America.  One saw itself as the Culture Warriors, but they’ve largely lost that war so rather than fight to win the culture they fight to establish rule by force over it.  Their slogan, Make America Great Again, is a formula for going backwards, for stasis and even degeneration.  The best days are behind them, so they seek to drag everyone and everything back into the past, back to when it was simple.  The other side’s slogan is “Yes We Can!”  It is optimism, It was Hope and Change, It is growth.  Anything not busy being born is busy dying; so this other side seeks to guide the change but not to fight it.  Trump famously, proudly resists learning, resists change, resists advice or other perspectives or other voices than his own.  Obama studied and read and questioned all through his presidency, and changed course when he had to.  Obama said, “You are the change you’ve been waiting for.” Trump said, “Things are a mess, and I alone can fix it.”  I guess, for all my cynicism, my self-esteem is simply not low enough for me to bow down to a mere mortal who claims perfection and omnipotence, and who demands that I shut up and follow meekly where he leads.  I’d rather have leaders who demand my effort, my attention, my mental engagement, my work, but not my soul.  And so, apparently, do 40,000 or so baseball fans at the fifth game of the 2019 World Series.

The Mueller Report in less than 30 minutes: no more reading required!

June 19, 2019

I’ve been summarizing the Mueller report for people who don’t want to read it for themselves.  However, for those who don’t want to read AT ALL, PBS has a deal for you!  Here’s a video with the facts of the Mueller Report.  Watch this and in 30 minutes you might be more qualified to discuss the report than your congressional representatives.  Click here for video

If you like visual aids, here’s a quick summary of the Mueller report

May 29, 2019

Here’s a chart summarizing the Mueller report.

I haven’t finished my analysis so maybe I’ll quibble with some of these later.  What it shows, and what your own reading of the Special Counsel’s report will show, is that the claims of “no collusion” and “total exoneration” are #FakeNews, to turn a phrase.  In fact, the report is closer to #ImpeachTrumpNow than it is to #WitchHunt.  The short version is “The Special Counsel can’t indict a sitting president; presidents have to be impeached first, and then indicted, so it’s up to Congress to take it from here.”

The Mueller Report: I read it for you, but you should read it yourself. pt. 2(b)

May 23, 2019

In Volume II of the Special Counsel’s report, Mueller describes ten areas that could represent obstruction of justice. In each case, he presents all the evidence he was able to gather, including facts as testified by eyewitnesses or by intelligence sources, as well as areas where he was not able to ascertain the facts because witnesses, including the President* lied, refused to answer or claimed not to remember.   After presenting the history of the events and all the evidence he had available, he offers an analysis as to whether each of the three essential elements for an obstruction of justice case were present: the obstructive act, the nexus to an official investigative proceeding, and the intent. Some of these, on close consideration, he does not seem to consider obstruction. In no case does he come out and say that any is obstruction; as we’ve seen, he had already ruled out any possibility of making that determination himself, since he sees this as the job of Congress. But in some cases, he states that the three essential elements definitely appear to be present, thus leaving the reader with the only logical conclusion that the White House was in fact obstructing justice and continues to do so.

  1. The President’s Conduct Related to the Flynn Investigation

Before Michael Flynn began his work as Trump’s National Security Advisor, he had two phone conferences with the Russian ambassador. Since there is only one President at a time and until January 20th that was Obama, it was improper for him to discuss foreign policy matters. Nevertheless, Flynn discussed the sanctions Obama had imposed on Russia in retaliation for its interference in our election. While lying to the press is not a crime, Flynn lied under oath to the FBI about these calls, which is a crime. These lies occurred while Mr. Trump was President. And because he had committed a crime and Russia knew about it, he was vulnerable to being blackmailed by Russia. This was a serious matter. The President had a private dinner with James Comey, the director of the FBI, and asked for him to swear loyalty to Mr. Trump personally, and shortly thereafter asked him to go easy on Flynn. He also fired Sally Yates, then Acting Attorney General, who initially brought concerns about these lies to White House attention. Despite having been briefed before becoming President about the Russian efforts to subvert our nation’s electoral process, and advice from his own advisors that Flynn had possibly violated U.S. law, it was not until Feb. 13 that Flynn was finally forced to resign, and even then White House efforts continued to cover for him.

  1. Obstructive Act: Comey claimed that Trump privately asked him to “let Flynn go.” Trump disputed Comey’s account, but Mueller points out that there is good evidence that Mr. Trump lied; not only did Comey testify under oath (something Trump has refused to do) but there were independent witnesses that Trump did indeed hustle everyone else out of the room so he could talk privately, which he denied. Was this really an “obstructive act,” or merely Trump expressing the wish that Flynn be spared further humiliation? Mueller argues that it was obstruction. First, Trump arranged to make the statement privately, suggesting that it was intended as a request that he did not want others to overhear. Second, he was Comey’s boss, and when your boss says “I hope you’ll do this,” that is generally a request. His thrice-repeated “let this go” reinforces the view that this was an order.
  2. Nexus to a proceeding: At the time of this clandestine meeting, there were no grand jury subpoenas out as part of the FBI investigation. However, everyone in the White House knew that Flynn had lied, that this was a violation of U.S. law, and that the FBI at least might prosecute. Thus there was a nexus to a possible proceeding, and attempting to head off such a possibility qualifies as obstruction of justice.
  3. Intent: While there was an attempt to get McFarland to falsely claim that she knew President Trump had not directed Flynn to discuss sanctions, there is no evidence that at that moment he actually had directed Flynn to do so. There is therefore no evidence that Trump was trying to cover up any criminal activity of his own. That is significant, since it goes to the question of intent: did Trump intend a cover-up? Did he have a personal stake in Flynn’s fate?

What Mueller did find is that while Trump may not have had a personal legal stake in the Flynn investigation, he did have a personal emotional stake. He considered and still considers any mention of Russian interference to be a challenge to his legitimacy and to the greatness of his achievement. There is evidence that Flynn was fired to try to end the Russia inquiries, that Trump reacted with “annoyance and anger” when the Flynn story broke because he thought it made him look bad, and that when told that firing Flynn would not end things he tried to pressure Comey to wrap things up. Also, while Trump has been publicly supportive of Flynn, privately he has been disappointed and angry and has mostly been motivated to keep Flynn from saying negative things about him. Overall, Mueller shows that Trump’s concerns were personal, rather than motivated by sympathy for Flynn or concern for justice: he didn’t want to look bad and thought that Flynn’s actions cast doubt on Trump himself.

Thus, the Special Counsel finds that all three elements of an obstruction of justice seem to be present:  the obstructive act itself, the official investigation which is being obstructed, and the motive to do so.  To confirm whether this is in fact obstruction of justice, and to punish the violation of law if it is, requires that Congress investigate and hold impeachment hearings; no other remedy is permitted under DOJ guidelines, while impeachment and possible removal is.  After removal from office, the DOJ guidelines forbidding prosecution of a sitting POTUS would no longer apply, and a criminal investigation could proceed.

To be continued….

Article on Humility

March 15, 2019

Article on Humility

 

St. Augustine said that pride was the first sin; in his book Whose Justice?  Which Rationality? Alasdair MacIntyre identifies this identification of pride as the deadly sin and humility as the cardinal virtue as distinguishing characteristics of the Augustinian moral tradition.

Much later, Kierkegaard made humility a central concept in his epistemology and ethics also.

Later still, Diogenes Allen identified humility as the cardinal virtue, and again linked its epistemic and ethical aspects.

Sadly, we don’t live in an era where humility is treated with respect.  Instead, as Harry Frankfurt points out, we live in an era of bullshit, where arrogance is admired and the greatest, most respected leaders and pundits are the ones who neither lie nor speak truth, but who simply make noise, without regard or often even knowledge of whether what they say is true or false, simply to get noticed and have influence:  the very apotheosis of arrogance.

In his article, “Vices of the Mind,” Quassim Cassam offers his reaction to the book Fiasco: The American Military Adventure in Iraq.  In this work author Thomas E. Ricks discusses the planning (and lack thereof) of the invasion of Iraq by the George W. Bush administration.  Repeatedly the political leaders were advised by career military officers with experience and expertise that hundreds of thousands of troops would be necessary to establish order once the Ba’athist regime was overthrown; but not only was this advice ignored, the generals who dared speak truth to power were belittled and undermined by Rumsfeld and Wolfowiz in particular. Having had successful political careers, they were self-assured to the point of arrogance; and lacking the relevant military knowledge, they were incapable of raising any questions themselves.  Ricks concludes that Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld and Wolfowiz were “‘arrogant’, ‘impervious to evidence’, and ‘unable to deal with mistakes’.”

For Cassam, what this points to is the dangerousness of intellectual vices.  These four men in particular combined power with pride. Their career success proved to them that they knew more than the experts, and didn’t need to listen to anyone else.  They were simply so smart in their own eyes that they didn’t feel any need to check their own assumptions.  When the generals who were experts proved right, their political bosses couldn’t process the clear evidence and change course quickly enough.  The vices of these individuals led to the unnecessary deaths of hundreds of thousands of people and the misery of millions, creating two failed nation-states and a terrorist caliphate that makes us long for the days when Ba’athism and al Qaeda were the worst we had to worry about.

This article is a powerful example of why philosophy matters.  The supposedly dusty and obscure writings of Aristotle on vice and epistemology, and the esoteric research of psychologists like Dunning and Kruger, explain one of the greatest foreign policy blunders of our nation and the one that took the promising end of the 20th Century and turned it into the clusterfuck of Republican administrations in the 21st:  an international economic collapse we are still recovering from, increasing environmental disasters that continue to surprise everyone except those who paid attention to “An Inconvenient Truth,” humanitarian nightmares in Yemen, Syria, Myanmar and elsewhere, international terrorism by white nationalists, all while the government of the most powerful nation on the planet fixates on whether late-night comedy and Twitter parody sites should be censored.  The common thread is that in all these cases, expertise and ethics are rejected, while unfounded confidence and will-to-power are allowed to run unchecked, causing chaos and decay while demanding veneration.  Intellectual humility is treated as uncertainty and weakness, because we have long since ceased teaching our children and future leaders to recognize virtue and vice.  We need to learn to embrace the intellectual virtues that will allow us collectively to recognize and value truth, for without it we cannot hope to find successful solutions to the many dangers we face.