Tom's Musings

In my previous submission to Toms-Musings, I suggested (once again) that a deep divide exists in America, though one arguably evidenced from the very start of our Republic. At our beginning, this nation was patched together from a (slightly) more urban and industrial North which was fairly responsive to democratic impulses with a semi-feudal, more hierarchical, plantation-focused South increasingly dependent on enslaved labor. That cultural and political chasm festered for decades until exploding into the most horrific conflict witnessed on American soil. Though that basic divide has morphed along different, less precise, geographic lines, a similar cultural separation continues across today’s red and blue jurisdictions. The passions across those on each side of the divide oft appear as vitriolic and as entrenched as ever.

In my last piece, I labeled the essential character of the divide as US v. ME … where some focused on larger affinity groupings while others did so on smaller, more homogeneous, units (explained more fully later). On reflection, I have refined my thinking, now prefering a WE v. ME designation while adding a totally new 2nd conceptual attribute (stay tuned)!

Why WE-ME? It is catchier, with a simple inversion of the 1st letter, W to M. Yet, it still encompasses an extraordinary array of differences in world views that separate red from blue areas, conservative from progressive doctrines, and Republican from Democratic partisans in today’s fractured American social fabric. We have two nations, utterly separated by norms and aspirations yet occupying a single land. As Lincoln once observed, a house divided cannot stand. Our differences are, sadly, overly consequential in many basic ways. The chasm is so wide, in fact, that I despair of our national experiment surviving.

Moving on from my starting point.

A nominal reading of that prior blog defines the essential character of that chasm as one between the haves and the have nots. Surely, hyper-inequality remains a significant contributor to our existing political tensions. For the most part, the haves today command so many resources that they see themselves as fundamentally different, likely superior, to the remainder of society.

The top of the economic pyramid (the proverbial 1%) are the very definition of an affinity group, one that enjoys an incestuous and exclusive set of self-contained and mutually supportive socio-economic interactions. Nevertheless, it likely does not fully explain our national normative tensions with convincing clarity.

For one thing, too many of the ‘haves,’ though not a plurality, evidence empathic tendencies and liberal beliefs. True, Republican President Herbert Hoover, never confused with a leftist, was known to have said, “You know, the only problem with capitalism is the capitalists. They’re too damn greedy.” Nevertheless, while excessive wealth may corrupt or distort values, I don’t sense that it dictates them in any causal nor deterministic manner. Too many, after winning the acquisition game, then redistribute much of their treasure for the common good.

No, I feel the root causes of our existential divide go deeper. By deeper, I mean looking at those innate dispositions that precede, though often shape, life’s outcomes, especially in terms of one’s essential moral center.

It strikes me, for example, that whether one is a member of the economic elite surely can be independent of skill or effort. You can win the birth lottery (fortunate to have rich or connected family members) or the marital lottery (wed a rich spouse), or perhaps win the powerball lottery. In such cases, one’s personal agency respecting their position in the economic hierarchy can be unclear. Some rich are merely lucky. Others make it based upon exploitive, even sadistic, behaviors best left unexamined.

To be clear, cultural polarization within nations is not unique to the U.S. It is a somewhat universal phenomenon. Poland is split sharply between a liberal western side and a hidebound eastern half. Likewise, Italy can be divided between a progressive north and a more backward south. Many nations evidence a similar cultural split, often between urban and rural areas. The very universality of such political and social divides beg further exploration.

In addition, it has worried many that authoritarianism has made a comeback in past decade or so. After the dissolution of the Soviet Union around 1990, many assumed that liberal democracy was on the ascendancy at last. The most powerful authoritarian alternative had collapsed from its own internal tensions. Not so, apparently. In recent years, we have witnessed the rise of authoritarian regimes in several countries: Turkey (2013); India (2014); Poland (2015); and Brazil (2019), just to name a few. And, of course, who could ignore the United States in 2016 and again in 2024.

What explains all this?

I’ve begun seeking explanations for all this dramatic polarization in the primordial, or instinctive, premises and patterns we bring to the world. Preferably, we would like to ascribe our American political divide to some simple cause. If only Fox News or conservative talk radio had not emerged in the late 20th century, all would be okay. Or if we could reverse Citizen’s United and thus divorce big money from politics, then we would magically return to an imagined Camelot where we all would get along.

No, that’s too simple. It all goes deeper than that. I sense that our cultural differences are located in those intuitive responses that individuals employ to make sense of the vast array of inputs each of us faces on a daily basis … a condition worsened by an accelerating pace of technological and social change. The real explanation likely lies in deeply embedded emotional default responses that lie beyond the reach of conscious calculation. If true, just how do we make sense of our world?

A good question, indeed!

Some epistemological approaches to what we know (or believe we know) presume that humans start life with a blank slate, a tabula rasa, a philosophical perspective linked back to Aristotle, Ibn Siba, and more recently John Locke. What we become is totally dependent on our post-natal experiences and education.

Others, like Immanual Kant, believe we are born with predetermined innate patterns for organizing the chaotic world about us. I personally ascribe to the notion that some attributes we possess, and which contribute to the extremes across our cultural divide, are partially hard wired. We are born with them.

For example, some research has detected differences in the structures of brains among hard conservatives that render them more sensitive to seeing threat in the world. Difference, for them, is instinctively equated emotionally with danger. This response was prudent in our deep past when basic survival depended on fight or flight on a daily basis. Best not to relax around an irritated Mastodon if you wished to live another day. Today, cooperation and collaboration are keys to further evolution as a species. Yet, older response patterns remain dominant in some.

While some individual outcomes might be determined at birth, some combination of nature and nurture play a role for most. If our world views were totally determined at birth, we might see a more evenly distributed spatial arrangement of liberals and conservatives. But no, they cluster together. Proximity and socially shared values cannot be dismissed nor discounted.

Still, I cannot ignore a recent discussion with my childhood friend Ronnie, and his wife Mary. They cannot quite understand how one of their offspring turned out to be a Trump supporter. This happened despite growing up in progressive Massachusetts with liberal parents and attending Clark University (my Alma Mater), ranked as one of the more leftist colleges in New England. This one son seemed destined to be different from birth. (By the way, their predicament leads me thank my stars I was wise enough to forego having children. I could NEVER forgive myself for foisting a Trump supporter on society. )

At the core of the divide!

Let’s start with a definition. Jonathan Haidt defines our core moral systems as “… interlocking sets of values, virtues, norms, practices, identities, institutions, technologies, and evolved psychological mechanisms that work together to suppress or regulate self-interest and make cooperative societies possible.” Fair enough, but how do they emerge?

One way to think about the question is to remind ourself of two insights into how we poor humans function in a bewildering world. Daniel Kanneman introduced us to the importance of fast versus slow thinking. So-called fast thinking is more automatic, immediate, and intuitive. On the other hand, slow thinking is highly cognitive, analytical, and thoughtful. We like to think we have evolved beyond the former toward the latter but have we? Frankly, I see scant evidence of that.

A second insight comes from how some observers view the making of legal decisions. On paper, these are the products of classic  slow-thinking processes. It often takes months of analysis and deliberation before higher courts (appellate and supreme court levels) make decisions and then publicly render their legal conclusions.

Insiders, on the other hand, often describe what more accurately is described as a post-decisionism approach. Jurists decide matters quickly and intuitively with the remainder of the deliberative process merely masking the effort to window- dress an instinctive, largely emotive or normatively based choice in fancy legalese. What has the appearance of objectivity enjoys little of that precious quality.

If judicial decisions were, in fact, one of evidence-based analytical thinking and applied stare decisis (legal precedent), one would not see $100 million being spent to sway the outcome of a single state Supreme Court race, as occurred not that long ago in Wisconsin.

My late wife was the Deputy Director for the Wisconsin court system during her career. I recall her once relating to me stories from a training exercise for the State’s judges she helped administer. The judicial attendees were given hypothetical legal and court situations and individually asked to decide how they would decide the issue from the bench or in their official capacity. She was amazed at how divided the responses were, many split evenly, and how heated the subsequent discussions could be.

Legal decision-making proved substantially distant from our prior in which judicial scholars applied some objective or widely shared set of norms and standards to complex situations. What is right can emerge from entrenched truths located in intrinsically held belief systems. Apparently, the embedded emotions and values one brings to the bench outway logic and the objectivity of the law more often than we would care to admit.

And here we have the crux of the situation. Each of us brings an individual palette of instinctual norms, emotions, and responsive default positions into daily life. These default positions constitute, or at least shape, our instinctive reactions to the outside world. They are the way we intuitively organize the inchoate external messages we continually confront on a daily basis. These instinctive reactions represent our visceral (primordial?) responses to select stimuli, especially those which evoke uncertainty, negativity, or outright fear.

Going back to Jonothan Haidt, he takes a shot at identifying the core organizing principles (palettes if you will) presumably found in conservative as opposed to liberal-oriented individuals. According to him, those on the right value such attributes as loyalty, authority, and sanctity. They seek stability, something bordering on rigidity, in society and in their personal lives.

Liberals, or progressives if you wish, gravitate toward such core attributes as caring, fairness, and personal liberty. They generally seem more empathic toward others, more sensitive to larger tribal affinity groups. They are more accepting of differences and, despite being labeled as snowflakes, are better able to deal with both the unexpected and the challenging.

Yet, it still strikes me that we have not gone deep enough into the fundamental distinctions that separate those that identify with the right and those desperately hanging on to what remains of American democracy and the rule of law. I’ve given the matter thought and, as is my wont, have come up with a half-baked insight of my own. Well, I presume it is mine but who knows. And, if history is any guide, it likely will last at least a week before I discard it as silly and sophmoric.

The core difference!

To separate the Trumpers from the people I respect, I’m envisioning a two-dimensional template. On the horizontal coordinate, we have a continuum that goes from our now familiar notation of WE on the left to ME on the right. Bisecting that flat line is a vertical continuum that is labeled the zero-sum perspective on the top end to an elastic perspective at the bottom.

The WE-ME horizontal continuum is nominally straightforward, one that we have touched on earlier. Those on the ‘WE’ end of the continuum tend to embrace larger affinity groups or a larger sense of referent tribes. They are capable of empathic relations and responses to larger populations that extend beyond their immediate world.

Those on the ‘ME’ end of the continuum instinctively favor smaller tribes as their go-to reference groups. At the extreme, their tribal identity seldom extends beyond those most like them (e.g., white Christians in their suburban neighborhood) and sometimes even just their own families. This may explain why rural folk tend to focus on rather limited affinity-group (tribal) world for social comfort and ideological confirmation. They might have self-selected to stay on the farm (as that population has shrunk) and simply have not had sufficient broadening experiences with the wider world.

Think about the following for a well-known, if extreme, example. Donald Trump would be located on the far right end of the ‘WE-ME’ continuum. In almost every situation, he thinks about how things impact HIM, and no one else. Basically, he has a referent (affinity) group of one. Everything is transactional where his needs are paramount and the wants-needs of all others totally irrelevant.

In fact, his sense of entitlement is so severe that it represents an affliction we would label as pathological narcissism. Though he lived in New York growing up, he might well have been raised in white, rural Nebraska. He evolved in a privileged bubble, seldom interacting with those beyond a small, entitled tribe with whom he shared rather provincial and distorted values.

I sense that I’m located on on the other side of the ‘WE-ME’ continuum. How so? Well, This is not to say that I sometimes associate, or respond to, a few definable and very conventional affinity groups. For example, I am emotionally tied to my Celtic ethnic tribe. I get weepy on my visits to Ireland. But I put such things aside when considering important matters. Then, I instinctively see things from a more global perspective. The very premis of the MAGA crowd, the so-called America-first perspective (really the affluent white Christian Americans first), strikes me as a dated, provincial, and primitive go-to position.

The vertical continuum strikes me as a critical addition to this conceptual frame. How so, you ask? Well, at the top we have those who seek the world in zero-sum terms. Basically, anything of value that goes to someone else is subtracted from my utility (economic-speak for well-being). Put conversely, my winning must be the other’s loss and vice-versa. At the bottom of the continuum we have those who seek the world in more elastic terms. By that, I mean the following. Resources are not always seen as finite. Anything of value going to one individual is not necessarily subtracted from another. In fact, collaboration can enhance the overall well-being of all. Again, these are not absolute calculations but emotional or primordial responses to the world about us. They represent how we instinctively act and react to situations and people.

Think of these two core attributes in terms of a two-dimensional conceptual framework where the horizontal WE-ME continuum is bi-sected in the middle by the zero-sum point down to an elastic point along the vertical continuum. If you can envision this, you readily see that we have four quadrants. It follows (or should at least) that the cult followers associated with the MAGA world generally would congregate in the upper-right quadrant since they score high on the ME and zero-sum continuums. That is, their primordial or instinctive sentiments jointly lie high on the ME and zero-sum ends of the respective continuums.

Progressive-liberals (the dreaded WOKE types) would, on the other hand, congregate in the bottom- left quadrant. They tend toward the WE and ELASTIC ends of both continua. Thus, they tend to instinctively drift toward broader affinity or reference groups while simultaneously sensing that collaborative efforts can enhance overall utility … that is, benefit the so-called common good.

As I have suggested throughout, these are primordial, mostly preconscious response patterns. Exceptions abound and no one is formulaicly predictable in all situations. Yet, this way of looking at things makes sense, if only from a personal point of view. As I’ve noted elsewhere, I embraced a global perspective as a very young man … wanting to join an organization that preached world unity years before I even hit puberty. As far back as I recall, I rejected the manner in which we divided up the world in terms of tribes and nations. When looking out at the vast cosmos, the narrow  perspective of nation- states and ethnic identities intuitively struck me as highly primitive and utterly provincial.

As usual, this blog has gone on too long. I will try to fill in the loose ends in the future. Or, more likely, I will conclude that all this is total BS. At the moment, though, I find it useful. It helps explain why people can seemingly look at what appears to be similar events and yet arrive at wildly different conclusions.

In the end, we have different underlying emotional and conceptual palettes through which we filter and organize reality. One person might see another who speaks or believes differently as a ‘threat’ while another person responds to the same situation as an ‘opportunity’ to experience something new and positive. These are not formal, conscious choices. They are not easily understood through cognition and analysis. They likely lie deep within us as embedded, instinctual sentiments. That makes them difficult to remedy. Yet, understanding is the first step toward positive change, or so I’m told.

More next time or whenever. In the meantime, stay well. And congrats if you made it all the way to the end. You must really enjoy pain 😢.

Has the American experiment in pursuing a ‘mature‘ democracy finally come to an end? I say pursuing (not attained) because this nation never quite achieved anything close to full legal suffrage, at least not until the 1960s. Only slowly, and grudgingly, was sufferage expanded over time … to non-propertied white males, to northern black males, to women, to indigenous residents, and eventually to minorities living in apartheid-riven (southern) states.

Then, on the precipice of universal suffrage, neo- conservative forces soon began to systemically attack the voting rights of newly enfranchised minorities in particular and disfavored groups more generally. Where ‘rights’ could not be legally rescinded, access would be restricted with protocols being introduced to make the act of exercising one’s access to full citizenship difficult at best, impossible in the ideal.

At first, the tactics were indirect. The Nixon administration, for example, passed drug laws biased against minorities followed by the uneven administration of such laws to guarantee arbitrary and selective enforcement. Both the design and management of such narcotic rules were distorted in ways that penalized minority communities. Quickly, disproportionate numbers of black and latino youth had become ensnared in the legal system. In some communities, a fourth to a third of young black males had run afoul of the law before reaching adulthood. Felons, you might recall, generally were not permitted to vote. This systemically weakened civic participation by segments of the population typically shunned by conservatives.

In effect, the collapse of legal apartheid in the 1960s led to an insidious backdoor strategy for keeping undesirables from exercising their rights as citizens. Voter suppression has grown in ferocity and effectiveness in recent years as conservatives began losing the popular vote in national elections. Republicans have purged voting rolls, closed polling places in poor districts, enacted new access impediments at the polls, and imposed absurd gerrymandering practices. It was as if they were trying to recreate an earlier, more primitive version of democracy where only propertied white males would be granted suffrage.

Continued efforts to eviscerate full suffrage and participation in our political life should not come as a surprise. Preserving access to power for and by the elite has a long history in America. Perhaps that is why the Trump crowd wants to whitewash the historical record and prohibit our youth from understanding completely our unvarnished past.

Even at our beginning, despite the high-sounding rhetoric littered throughout our Constitution and related founding documents, the nation was founded by and for the select economic winners. For the most part, suffrage was confined to an acceptable elite … propertied white males. While three-fifths of each black resident would be counted in each state’s population rolls (important to determine each jurisdictions political clout), they could not vote. Also disenfranchised were women, Native Americans, and most males without fortune or property. Only the established white male elite were considered proper custodians of the nation’s future. After all, the rabble presumably did not possess the cognitive wherewithal nor the high moral values essential to the exercise of self-rule. Worse, they might choose to vote in there own self-interest, a frightening prospect given their numerical superiority.

At the end of 1787 Constitutional convention, Ben Franklin asserted that: “I agree to the Constitution with all its faults, if they are such, because I think the general government necessary for us, and there is no form of government but what may be a blessing to the people if well- administered, and I believe further that this is likely to be well- administered for a course of years … (but)… can only end in Despotism, as others have done before it, when the people shall become so corrupted as to need despotic government …”

Ben’s cautionary words reflected deep seated uncertainty regarding the future of this nascent Republic. Deep tensions had run through the consideration of a new Constitution in 1787. All knew that the loose alliance of the semi-independent colonies existing after the Treaty of Paris was signed in 1783 had been a disaster. Yet, fundamental tensions clouded the way forward to a more coherent nationhood.

A number of questions bedeviled those attending the 1787 constitutional convention. What to do about slavery which seemed inconsistent with nobler sentiments such as all men are created equal? How to balance power between larger and smaller states? Whether any extension of rights too broadly might invite a disastrous rule by the uneducated ‘mob.’ Could some necessary authority be centralized for the sake of stability without sinking eventually into tyranny? And finally, how could opportunity for individual advancement be fostered while preserving the presumed entitlements of the propertied classes? It should be noted that the famous phrase of ‘life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness’ was almost written as ‘life, liberty, and the preservation of property.’

This last issue emerged over and over in early constitutional discussions. Delegates debating the Pennsylvania state Constitution put it this way “… and enormous proportion of property vested in a few individuals is dangerous to the rights, and destructive to the Common Happiness of Mankind, every free State hath a right by its laws to discourage the possession of such property.” Perhaps that early sentiment explains why Pennsylvania is known as a Commonwealth, not a State.

In short, what would become known as the American dream, a place where riches might be freely accrued, could go too far in the minds of some founders. They argued that hyper-inequality was a danger to the common good. At the same time, the opportunity to seek personal success and fortune separated the new America from a rigidly stratified old world. This indeed would prove a tough Gordon knot to unravel.

Fast forward to contemporary times, and not much has been resolved. We have witnessed endless cycles of growing inequality and the concentration of power among the economic elite followed by spurts of intense progressivism …  the reforms of the early 20th century in response to the excesses of the gilded age; the New Deal of FDR in light of the great global depression of the early 1930s; the spurt of idealism in the 1960s (especially during the 87th Congress) after the complacency of the post World War II period.

Since 1980, with the initiation of the Reagan revolution and the full implementation of the strategy outlined by future Supreme Court Justice Lewis Powell (1971), the economic divide between the haves and have nots has widened without interruption. (Note: Powell’s memo laid out a long range plan for the political right to seize control of major institutions and thereby assume more or less permanent control of power).

Over the last four-plus decades, inequality of both opportunity and results has continued unabated. A vast array of data supports the decline of America as this presumed land of opportunity where hard work would be rewarded with personal achievement. Rather, the nation has evolved toward an oligarchy, a place increasingly ruled by an entrenched economic elite.

For example, 10 billionaires recently saw an $800 billion dollar increase in their wealth portfolios over the course of a single year. The top 0.1 percent of the population now commands fully one-quarter of the stock market which continues to rise as the economy wobbles for most Americans. The bottom half of the population command about 1 percent of wealth in the form of equities. Tesla shareholders recently voted to possibly make Elon Musk the first global trillionaire. If this wealth milestone is achieved, and it were considered as GDP (Gross Domestic Product), that sum would place him higher in total resources than all but 21 countries across the globe. That is obscene by any measure.

The concentration of wealth in the hands of the few cannot be divorced from the concentration of political power by the same. When untold billions (perhaps trillions?) are at stake, then why wouldn’t the elite buy politicians or subvert the political process to do their bidding. With unlimited resources at their disposal, combined with the clever use of wedge emotional issues (abortion, immigration, racial animus, loss of tribal identity) employed as classic misdirection ploys to confuse and then secure the support of working-class types, then those in power fully expect to enjoy disproportionate hegemony well above their proportionate numbers. They intend to create a permanent ruling class. If they don’t manipulate the system, the weight of countervailing democratic sentiments would certainly prevail over time. No wonder Elon Musk thought nothing of throwing some $20 plus million dollars into a single state Supreme Court race.

The steady drift to the hard right in recent decades alarmed older Republican stalwarts like John McCain, the last principled Republican to seek our highest office. While running for President in 2012, he experienced a seminal moment during a Minnesota town hall session. A woman in the audience attacked Barack Obama as an Arab and a Muslim. McCain gently took her microphone and said the following in an avuncular manner “… no ma’am. He’s a decent family man (and) a citizen that I just happen to have disagreements with on fundamental issues…”

Many in the Republican audience booed his conciliatory words. They would have preferred the hate and divisiveness that would soon be fully revealed in Donald Trump’s coming campaign four years later. At least since Newt Gingrich’s 1994 political coup in Congress, hyper-polarization had reached levels where civil communication across tribal political camps had largely ceased and collaborative action seemed virtually impossible.

John would be the final voice of reason in the once proud party of Lincoln. Toward the end of his life he expressed the following: “… they (his Senate colleagues) often had very serious disagreements about how best to serve the national interest. But they knew that however sharp and heartfelt their disputes, however keen their ambitions, they had an obligation to work collaboratively to ensure that the Senate discharged its constitutional responsibilities effectively.” In that vein, he voted to save Obamacare as he was dying of cancer. With immense sadness, he went on to note that … “Deliberations today … are more partisan, more tribal, more of the time than any other time that I remember.” (Note: McCain worked across the aisle, for example once collaborating with Dem. Senator Russ Feingold to limit money in politics.)

It was as if some political Rubicon had been crossed, thereby signaling that an older world where rules and civility prevailed no longer existed. Perhaps the pre-civil war era bore witness to such passions and irreconcilable differences. If so, it took a horrific civil conflict with some 700,000 deaths to restore order and a minimally functioning society.

John Adams once said the following: “A government without power is, at best, but a useless piece of machinery. Power without any restraint is Tyranny.” Trying to walk a tightrope between competing visions of what was right, the founders created a system based on compromise. It was creaky and inefficient, full of checks and balances. Yet, despite its imperfections, it lurched along without succumbing to the tyranny feared by those who launched this experiment with high hopes and many fears.

Now, we are witnessing the most existential and complete threat to this experiment in self rule that many of us can recall. All other issues pale by comparison, from the Epstein files to the state of the economy. Nothing is more important than the question of whether democracy can survive. 

Time and again, Trump has promised an entrenched and permanent Republican rule. He promised it to his Evangelical supporters during his 2024 campaign. Vote for me and you won’t have to vote ever again. It was laid out in the Heritage Foundation’s 2025 Plan, the outline by which Trump would rule during his 2nd term. And he recently promised his Republican legislators in the Senate as much if they would employ the nuclear option by ending the traditional Senate filibuster. Then, Trump insinuated, he could reopen the federal government on his terms. (Note: In this instance, they did not acquiesce to his demand.)

Ending the filibuster additionally would serve another purpose. He could rule as a quasi-dictator thoughout the period leading up to the 2026 Congressional elections. Let us never forget that German President Hindenberg appointed Hitler as Chancellor on the assumption that  more moderate politicians would keep this loose cannon under control… a form of checks and balances presumed to exist under the Weimar Republic. It took Hitler about 100 days to foment a fake emergency and assume near dictatorial powers from a compliant Reischtag. In the end, tens of millions would perish from the nihilistic, destructive path the Fuhrer subsequently embarked upon. Hitler, too, garnered the support of the industrialists and the money classes, men eager to use his initial popularity to pursue their short term goals. It would prove a Faustian bargain.

The recent elections swept by the Democats have given hope to the center-left. At the same time, ending the government shutdown was accomplished at a significant cost to working class Americans and (once again) to the benefit of the economic elite. The new oligarchs, including the tech brothers, have accumulated egregious wealth through their complicity with our aspiring dictator. They see a path to permanent hegemony, something to which previous elites might aspire but could not quite achieve. This time, they just might grab the brass ring.

There are many theories for why the vast numbers of ordinary Americans might willingly sacrifice self-rule in favor of some dictatorial and tyrannical alternative. On the surface, male working-class support for Trump doesn’t make a great deal of sense. It strikes us as counter-intuitive that any collective would vote for candidates that have never demonstrated any concern whatsoever for their economic or social well-being? This has been the question of the hour.

I do have some thoughts on this conundrum. The direction of my thinking on this question cuts through a complex set of explanations while moving beyond the simple divide between the economic privileged versus we real folk. Rather, it looks to a central aspect of human values … the simple US versus ME dichotomy that may lie at the core of our present political predicament.

This blog, however, is long enough already.. I will jump into my thinking on such esoteric matters in the next edition. So, stay tuned!

Coming soon!

A few blogs ago, I wrote on the topic of my evolution in personal values and perspective during during the period of my misspent youth. If you want the full story of those fascinating post-WWII years, try tracking down the following page-turner (it did get a reader rating of 4.9 out of 5 stars).

In a subsequent blog, I focused on my views as I transitioned into early adulthood. In this treatise, I am moving on to full adulthood. I look at various moments in my professional career that were selected primarily because circumstances surrounding the issue challenged my comfort zone. These were situations where professional necessity and normative values potentially clashed … at least to some extent. After all, one’s world views, or at least one’s behaviors, are elastic phenomena that can change over time in light of unavoidable exigencies.

Let’s begin. I started working as early as I could … delivering newspapers (among other odd jobs), then working in the public library as a page. In college, I labored as an orderly (on the night shift) in a large urban hospital and as a semi-social worker trying to help vulnerable kids from a poor neighborhood that was remarkably close (as it turned out) to where I myself was raised. There were other such efforts … once I started working I never stopped.

These early jobs were, in fact, largely consistent with my values at the time, which determined my selection of them in the first instance. Of note, I occasionally lost money on my paper route. Turns out that I was very passive about collecting what was owed by my poorer customers. That was clue number one that I was not disposed to any future entrepreneurial career path.

I also might add one ethical lapse from my early, non-professional work. For a while, I labored as a ticket taker at an artsy theater in north Milwaukee (while pursuing a Master degree). It was a position that paid little though it enhanced my popularity since I could let my acquaintances in for free on the one night I was fully in charge. If you can’t attract real friends, then bribe them to like you or at least tolerate you.

Alas, I would palm tickets that the gal in the ticket booth would then resell. She and I would share the profits at the end of the evening. It was a matter of survival in those days but I still feel guilty about it almost six decades later. Ah, the scourge of Catholic guilt. That oppressive feeling never diminishes.

My first real professional job was as a research analyst with the State of Wisconsin … a position I pretty much stumbled into. Given my unavoidable attention-deficit disorder, I quickly got involved in many initiatives beyond what I was originally hired to do … which involved administering the so-called welfare Quality Control program. This initiative reviewed random samples of welfare cases to determine eligibility and payment errors. Based on the evaluation results, we were to generate initiatives to systemically root out errors and fraud.

Normatively, I struggled a bit here. My instinctive moral sense pushed me to help the vulnerable  and disadvantaged, or try to at least. While I never discounted that individual choices played some role in determining life’s outcomes, I fully embraced the notion that people did not face similar or equitable opportunity sets, while many in fact faced variable, often unfair, challenges to success in life. Structural or societal factors contributing to their life situation could not be discarded.

Yet, here I was running a system where some poor families might be punished, or perhaps further disadvantaged, for errors that might not be of their making. That caused me pause. Yet, this accountability system had the potential for easing public concerns about an unpopular public program … a potential silver lining. Perhaps this suggests that anything can be rationalized.

Another initiative from my pre-university days involved starting the movement of welfare  management from a paper-based system into the digital wonders of the computer age. (As I said, I was easily bored and always looking for new challenges.) This was groundbreaking stuff at the time and, on the surface, seemed normatively neutral. But was it?

Creating an automated approach to welfare management was a herculean task that went well beyond introducing emerging,  sophisticated management technologies. To make automation feasible, we had to make wholesale changes to program rules. All discretion had to be eliminated as we turned every decision point into an either-or dichotomy. No room for individual caring or empathy here.

However, there were many positives. Applicants would be assessed for all applicable programs in a single, integrated eligibility process. In addition, front line workers were less likely to abuse their discretion to punish clients they disliked. These, among several others, were positive outcomes.

As suggested above, the process of automating welfare decision -making required that we a simplify program rules and  change every decision into a binary form. Everything would be either-or with no personal touches permitted. Individual circumstances were ignored as we moved toward a broader sense of equity (all treated alike) and efficiency (ruthlessly eliminating complexity). While abuse might be rooted out, so was individual treatment based upon special circumstances. These concerns raised complex questions about the meaning of equity and the value of efficiency.

Herein lies the thing about doing public policy … you inevitably confronted tradeoffs between equally desirable ends … equity versus efficiency being one example. It is difficult to treat cases on an individual basis while keeping administrative costs low or absorbing ever-increasing caseloads. How to choose?

Policy wonks always confront what I called the burdens of objectivity and efficiency. You are making rules for society, not the individual. Thus, you can’t approach your work as an  advocate nor a politician where (for the most part) you can argue for ideal (usually unobtainable) outcomes. These are easier to pursue in individual cases. No, you inevitably are constrained by fiscal realities, by inevitable tradeoffs, and by a plethora of unintended (yet very real) consequences. Doing policy is a harsh teacher about the limitations and complexities in life.

I could write a book on these issues, how complex and sobering doing policy can be to an idealist. In fact, I did. If you want the full story, check out the following:

Here, I will touch briefly on a few of the policy issues I confronted after transioning to being a full-time policy wonk while operating out of the University of Wisconsin. As an academic entrepreneur, I could flit from issue to issue with little to no supervision (as long as I could raise money to support my dalliances into those various policy delicacies that caught my attention). It was all so much fun that I metaphorically referred to my career as browsing through a candy store.

Just the other evening, oddly enough, I discussed some issues with a retired attorney who handled child support cases during his years of practice. Way back in the 1980s, I had been involved in a State-University collaborative project reworking the child support system. As part of that initiative, we introduced highly simplified rules for establishing support obligations and more efficient mechanisms for collecting such. My debate partner the other evening focused on specific cases where our new rules seemed unfair in individual situations. On the other hand, I easily recalled our motivations as policy wonks. We were driven to maximize uniformity and efficiency. Another harsh truth of doing policy is that you cannot please everyone.

Virtually all the major issues that crossed my path raised complicated normative questions for me. They could be described as wicked policy problens, loaded with hard choices but also the most fun to confront. I can only touch on a very few, and only briefly (don’t forget the book).

As the 1980s progressed, welfare reform evolved into a front burner issue both in Wisconsin and nationally. In fact, the Badger state took the lead under the aggressive leadership of Governor Tommy Thompson. I would soon get caught up in the workfare,  so-called learnfare debates, one-stop welfare offices, and other related initiatives.

Simplifying these complex reform topics, the new thrust was to introduce a new social contract into the design and management of welfare programs. Liberals (progressives) went ballistic over most of these changes which threatened welfare as a more or less pure income-support entitlement. I had to assess each reform proposal in light of my experiences and growing reputation. My position as a player meant my opinions now counted. This upped the stakes as someone who considered himself as a defender of the downtrodden. It was not easy.

Being a knee-jerk liberal no longer seemed possible. I was no longer merely an observer on the sidelines. I was a player whose opinions now carried weight. At times, I recoiled in disbelief that people, sometimes important people, listened to what I had to say. In fact I would be called upon by the local and national press all the time. I tried not to register who was calling, since I wanted my observations and comments to be objective, if that were possible. I would provide both sides on the issue du jour, if I could. I still recall one reporter who became silent during our telephone conversation. When prompted, she explained that I was her first interview where the interviewee did not go ballistic over the policy question at hand.

When I found I could not escape the spotlight, I occasionally found myself caught up in some very difficult dilemmas. I appeared before a Congressional Committee in DC examining Wisconsin’s learnfare reform, an initiative that penalized welfare families whose children failed to meet educational expectations (another component of the new social contract). I was pressured relentlessly by both sides to say things favoring their position. The governor’s people wanted me to support the program while advocates pushed me to attack it as an evil scheme spawned by the devil himself. I genuinely feared that if the Governor’s representatives at the hearing did not like my remarks, we (my University research institute) would face the termination of state research grants which at a minimum would result in many students losing their support. In my remarks to the Committee, I wove a middle ground where I supported the underlying intent but questioned its execution. I wondered after if I had sold out my values.

During the 90s, I was caught up in all the issues of the day at the apex of the welfare reform frenzy … Clinton’s welfare proposal (on which I worked while spending a year in D.C.); Wisconsin’s welfare replacement initiative known as W-2; efforts to update the national poverty measure; the so-called Super-Waiver to grant states greater discretion over some programs; initiatives to explore new methods for evaluating complex reform initiatives (including serving on a National Academy of Sciences expert panel); and a significant push to move from siloed service programs to more comprehensive and collaborative models.

When addressing any issue in the welfare or human services morass, political sensitivity inevitably became an issue. Welfare, among all public policy questions, tapped such emotional dimensions as sex, personal responsibility, individual character, and public guilt. Conflict and contention inevitably arose. I can’t even begin to account for all the delicate moments I faced.

When I spent time in Washington on leave from the University, I often was sent out to give talks on where the administration was heading. My university colleagues who had worked in D.C. in the past were stunned that I never had to have my remarks politically vetted in advance. In some of these public events, I was shadowed by a well-known Washington advocate for the poor whom I respected greatly. He often suggested that, while he respected me personally, he feared that I had been seduced to the dark side. Had I? I can’t answer that but felt bad that this admired advocate would suggest such.

Even trying to update an official poverty measure that had fallen way out of date proved to be a normative minefield. One might think this would be a more or less technical exercise. But no! Any and every recommended change was viewed through the political prism of who would win and who would lose. Both sides on the normative spectrum saw nefarious motivations behind every scheme. The highly polarized political scene we see today was well on its way to reality.

I can still recall the time I was on a panel at an event being run by the National Governor’s Association. The issue of the day was whether the federal government should give states more flexibility in designing their safety nets. I had been working closely with a number of states at the time and been impressed by the energy and intelligence they brought to policy matters. Still, the liberal establishment was appalled at the prospect. A statement was circulated where virtually every center-left  organization in the nation signed on to their opposition to the so-called super– waiver concept. Had I fallen this far from my roots?

No matter, I could always be comforted by the fact that Governor Thompson (who would become Secretary of HHS under George W. Bush) remained convinced that I was a left wing terrorist. At an event at the Joyce Foundation in Chicago (which supported much of my work), the then Governor publicly attacked me for opposing his reforms. I found that amusing since he did not realize that I had been instrumental in shaping a number of the ideas he touted as his own. 

For politicians, you were either for or against them. There was no middle ground. I functioned in that gray area where compromise and accommodation were essential. When I gave reporters the pros and cons respecting a reform initiative, they often cherry picked my cons. That was the print media’s game. What the Governor saw in the press had him conclude that I was his enemy. Unfortunately, he had a thin skin.

I yet recall getting a call from the Secretary of Wisconsin’s human services agency praising me for saying positive things about the latest state initiative … something called Bridefare which was designed to encourage marriage. I chuckled at the Secretary’s praise, telling him that I called them as I saw them. Then I went on to add that “I only realized I was approaching the truth in welfare policy matters when no one agreed with me.” Yes, I had long recognized an uncomfortable truth. Staying true to your moral center oft meant you were all alone amidst a sea of conflicting norms and emotions. That can be a lonely place to be.

I taught several policy courses at the University of Wisconsin. One of my favorites involved working with 2nd year Social Work Master’s students interested in doing internships to prepare for careers in the policy field. I would meet prospective applicants for this field experience course at the beginning of the year. Part of my spiel would involve sobering them up to any illusions they might possess about doing policy work.

Often, I would start with the ‘river metaphor‘ where you see individuals in danger of death by drowning. Which is better, to attempt to rescue each threatened person or to go upstream to keep them from danger in the first instance. Choosing the policy approach over an individual habilitation route is an individual choice depending upon your orientation and disposition. Both are rewarding. The policy strategy promises broader impacts for sure. 

Then, I would segue into a cautionary tale. Doing policy is hard, I would tell them. You are always making decisions with imperfect, if not contradictory, information. This is especially true of ‘wicked’ problems where uncertainty abounds with respect to ends, theoretical foundations, divided public support, and evidence. Moreover, you can never fully account for externalities and various unintended consequences. Often, you will face excruciating choices where there are winners and losers in the available possibilities. For young people wanting to do good for society, this can be an unsettling professional path. Don’t take it if you cannot accept inescapable limitations and the glacial pace of change.

Yet, almost all accepted the challenge. Surprisingly, no one came back years later to sue me for ruining their lives. Apparently, many of us love pain.

Recently, I was reminded of my long-ago days as a shaper of young minds. I had returned to the School of Social Work at UW as a new member of the school’s Board of Visitors. One other member, the head of Wisconsin’s Planned Parenthood program, joined us via Zoom. She revealed that she had had a mentor during her days in the master’s program, someone named Tom Corbett. She confessed to her confusion back then about whether to pursue a clinical or a policy focus in the future (a micro or macro orientation). Apparently, I convinced her to choose a policy oriented future. She smiled as she confessed she wasn’t sure she should thank me or curse me now 🙂.

Looking at today’s fractured political landscape, I wonder what I would say to today’s youth. I doubt I would encourage many to seek a policy career. How sad is that 🫩?

Perhaps it is time to complete my sojourn to the northeast.

In my last piece, I covered part of my recent road trip … my visit to Worcester Mass or the tragic/humorous site of my early years. That was a sentimental journey for the most part. These trips back home, and back in time, always remind me of certain fundamental truths. We all, most of us at least, endure similar personal challenges. We all face embedded scripts born both of nurture and our surrounding culture. Much of our early lives are enmeshed within struggles to accommodate such scripts, to break free from them, or both. Seeing the scenes of of my youth inevitably reminds me of those enduring struggles.

The remainder of my road trip, however, took me in a different direction. It also had a nostalgic component … recalling favored sites and feelings from my youth. This next portion of the journey took me to places I recall fondly from past vacations and excursions during what now seems like a different life, as if whispered from tarnished black and white photos in a memory book. Faint images of a restless ocean, of sand-drenched beaches, or of bucolic scenes from the rural New England landscape quickly flit through my consciousness.

This portion of the journey also contains a previously unexplored component, one where I (we) would venture into Quebec Province. I cannot quite believe I had never been there before, a somewhat unique place where one can experience a decidedly foreign culture right here in our own North America.

From Worcester, one can take I-495 north to a string of beaches along the shore in northern Mass., New Hampshire, and South Eastern Maine. There are numerous places I recall from long ago like Salisbury, Hampton, and Rye beaches. While some are oriented to the working class and have a gritty feel, others like Agonquit and Kennebunkport seem to cater to a wealthier crowd. They are likely to offer more stately manors redolent of privilege and entitlement. Yet, the beauty of the landscape is a gift to all, even if the ocean waters are on the chilly side.

Meandering along the shore was never our destination, no matter how enticing might be the rocky shores of Maine. We were headed toward Lewiston Maine where Bates College is located. That is where Amelia, the grand-daughter of my traveling partner has recently matriculated. Amelia grew up in England, raised by her American mother and British dad. Given her excellent academic preparation, she had many options from wish to choose. But she wanted to come to America for college. Why anyone with choices would come to our sinking Republic at this moment in time seems a bit odd, but there you have it.

Amelia and her grandmother!

She has the benefits, and challenges, of embracing two cultures … British and American. Each year, she would spend several weeks in Wisconsin, becoming a fan of the Packers, of cheese, and of brats (not sure about the brats). Like her American mother, who rowed for the University of Wisconsin as a collegiate athlete, Amelia immersed herself in competitive sports as a swimmer (which would not be supported at a British university).

Her choice of schools was partly determined by the fact that Bates offered her the opportunity to compete at the collegiate level on their swim team. It was also important that Bates is an excellent liberal arts college that admits a small minority of applicants (i.e., they never would have accepted me for example). It is the kind of educational institution where inquisitive younger minds can be intellectually challenged, where life’s directions might be shaped, if not directed.

I don’t know Amelia well. However, while reserved, she strikes me as intelligent and thoughtful. Like her mother, she has a deep interest in art and in psychology. She also has the advantage of possessing just enough of a British accent to give her a singular advantage. I recall that my Boston accent helped me stand out after I left New England, at least until I lost it. If I am any judge, she will do well no matter where life takes her.

It is hard for me not to reflect on Amelia’s opportunities. Her parents have sufficient resources to support her dreams. That is a blessing. Still, I wonder if things can come too easily for someone like her.

I had to make my way through college without parental support, though admittedly during a period when such a feat was far more feasible. Still, working some nights 11 to 7 before heading off to classes in the AM did present a few challenges, not that I ever studied very diligently in any case. Nonetheless, I started working as a freshman in high school and never really stopped.

Was I strengthened by such demands, or held back in some way? Who knows? I somehow managed to land in a totally satisfying career as an academic and policy wonk, so-called work I might well have done for no pay (were I not to starve to death as a result).

What I do know is that I felt enormously blessed to have the opportunity that the university experience provided. I never could quite comprehend, nor empathize, with those who cast aside similar opportunities by concluding that college is too difficult or boring. But that’s me. After all, I managed to avoid the real world for virtually my entire life.

The world of ideas inevitably attracted me more than available alternatives like, you know, real work. As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, one of my favorite mantras to share with my college students was ‘to avoid reality for as long as possible since adulthood is wildly over rated.’

But my preferences are immaterial at this point. What matters is how this promising young woman fares. The world I faced back in my day seemed less frightening than what she faces today. Yet, I have confidence that she will, indeed, do very well despite the challenges she and her peers face.

The Bates campus, as with many such New England campuses, is an oasis of serenity and beauty. The wider town of Lewiston, on the other hand, reminds me of the many industrial towns that once flourished in past eras … Lowell, Lawrence, Haverill, Ware, and I suspect my hometown of Worcester. They all possess that patina of a reddish brick hue which reminds us of a time when America actually made consumer goods. Now, they are dotted with old and abandoned mills and factories seeking new identities and purposes.

Today, such towns are remaking themselves, or trying to, by transforming into places where those plying post-industrial vocations might thrive. Worcester seems to be making it. Lewiston strikes me as trying hard. Indeed, there are positive signs that they are transitioning into the future with some success.

Our stay there was short. After our visit, we would take a quick side trip to Arcadia National Park (Bar Harbor). As many know, the Maine coast line is special … marked by hills topped with rugged forests and serene inlets that touch the sea in places, where coastal villages retain a rustic charm and where rock-defined barriers separate land from the vast and oft turbulent ocean waters.

The beauty is undeniable. So much so, that the numbers of tourists deny one a full opportunity to enjoy local offerings as much as one might want. Alas, the human crush was daunting at times. Still, I miss the fact that there was not enough time to revisit Port Clyde. I recall this dot on the Maine map as a picturesque, if not iconic, fishing village from a visit decades ago. Then again, better to keep that image than shatter it with some new, and less appealing, slap of reality.

We soon were heading north, through the vast inland forests of Northwestern Maine. To anyone who lives in a city, or who grew up in an eastern metropolis, these vast wilderness areas appear magical, if somewhat unreal. The multi-hued forests (at this time of year) seem endless. Blue lakes and rivers break up the canvass of greens and yellows and oranges that cover the earth. God did some of his finest work here. Who needs art amidst such masterpieces of nature.

Then you reach Quebec Province. Suddenly, you are in Canada. No, that’s not correct. You are in France. Except, in most of Europe, you can always get by with English. Not so much here.

When I had trouble at a gas station in a rural part of the Province, the proprietor launched into an explanation regarding what was wrong. He did so, however, in rapid French. I responded with my 65 year old high school version of the language … Je parle Anglais seulement. He looked pained as he struggled to explain to me that his pumps were broken, but a repair person was on the way.

Quebec City is well worth a visit. I cannot fathom why I had never made it here before. It was developed in the early 18th century by the French at a strategic spot on the St. Lawrence River. They chose a location where the waters narrow and a prominent hill gives anyone who possesses the high ground a distinct military advantage. Control the river and you control the territory. Even I could figure that out.

On this high ground, the early inhabitants built a traditional walled city and military defensive positionI. Over time, it evolved into a gem that recreates a part of old Europe on North American soil. It certainly looks and feels like the old country. In the pic below, you can see the iconic Fontenblac Hotel and the walkway overlooking the St. Lawrence and surrounding countrside.

The early French traders gave France a claim to what would have become Canada. But the growing English colonies to the south made conflict inevitable, leading to the French and Indian Wars (otherwise known as the 7 Years War) between these two superpowers beginning in the mid-1750s.

The key battle between French and Indian forces under General Montcalm and English forces under General Wolfe took place in September of 1759 after months of seiges and skirmishes. The English commander finally got the upper hand by scaling the vertical cliffs adjacent to the fortress secretly at night. The British forces surprised the enemy by suddenly appearing at dawn outside the French fortification at a site known as the Plains of Abraham.

Montcalm decided to confront his mortal enemy once and for all in a pitched battle. It did not go well for him. The British forces, being better organized and disciplined routed Montcalm’s mix of French regulars and their indigenous allies. The French general was killed, as was the British commander, Wolfe. The last words that General Wolfe heard was that ‘victory was his.‘ Allegedly, he happily accepted death having heard such news.

Though fighting continued for some time, the issue was pretty much decided that day. The English would control Canada. I’m still confused, though, how the British could win the war so decisively but Quebec remain so French. Go figure!

Nevertheless, this conflict (part of a larger conflict between English and French ambitions during this era) had far reaching consequences. Britain began taxing the American colonies at the end of the 7 Years War to defray the conflict’s costs. Parliament had this naive belief that the colonists should help pay for the troops that kept their enemies at bay. That innocent assumption more or less led to our Revolutionary War a dozen years later. You know, taxation without representation or, more likely, the American tendency to want something for nothing.

France‘s military and monetary support for the colonial revolution in turn helped bankrupt the treasury of King Louis. That eventally resulted in such financial straits that the King was forced to convene the Estates Generale. Bad move! The French Revolution would soon start. So, a lot of history can be found outside the walls of historic Quebec, or at least the starting point for a series of subsequent events that essentially changed our world.

The British would fortify their hard won citadel above the river as protection against a new enemy … those American upstarts to the south. Their fears were not unfounded. American forces invaded several times during the  Revolutionary conflict and the War of 1812. Such incursions were easily repulsed. Currently, of course, our toddler President is making renewed threats to absorb our once friendly neighbor to the north into our flailing Republic. They must think us utterly insane.

It was now time to head home. But we would do so slowly, first wandering through Vermont.

The picture above is Lake Champlain with the Adirondack mountains of New York on the other side. It is a view from Burlington, the state’s largest city … which, in fact, is not very large. But it is quaint with the state’s flagship University situated at the top of a hill overlooking the lake.

Years ago, I did some work in Vermont, much as I did in many other states. I found the state workers there exceptional and progressive. I was fortunate to work with many smart and visionary public servants during my career. In fact, the head of their human services department tried to convince me to relocate to the University of Vermont so that I could could more directly with them.

I would get such feelers from time to time. Some, like this one, had merit or some modest attraction at least. The beauty of the area is undeniable. But Madison is Madison and the Institute for Research on Poverty was, after all, such a special place.

And so we would say good by to God’s country and make our way home. It was, I believe, Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz who claimed there was ‘no place like home.’ She might have been on to something there.

Not that anyone noticed, but I haven’t written anything in a while. To ease your concerns, which I’m certain none of you have, I am neither ill nor deceased though people oft look at me and assume such. No, I’ve just been on a road trip East and consumed with other distractions. Bottom line … I remain alive and well, or at least as well as a fossil of my advanced years can expect to be.

Part of the aforementioned road trip involved visiting sites associated with my misspent youth and to enjoy, for one more time at least, the vibrant colors of a New England Fall. It was also an opportunity to visit a friend’s granddaughter who is starting at Bates College this year after growing up in England. Then there was the side trip to Quebec City, a lovely destination that somehow had escaped my attention all these years. But this message will focus on my return to Worcester … the place of my youth.

By the way, this also was an experiment to determine if I was yet up to long road trips. I generally enjoyed them in earlier times. Let’s face it, though. I’m no longer a spring chicken. Hell, as an octogenerian, I am looking at the summer of life in the rear view mirror. Still, I found the 3,500 mile trip quite delightful, recalling the joys of hitting the open road. Perhaps I have a few more left in me.

For one thing, the yellows, oranges, and reds laced through the green canvases of eastern forests in New York, the Berkshires, rural Maine, Quebec Province, and the Green Mountains of Vermont were magnificent. They brought back so many memories that reminded me why this time of year is so special. There really is nothing like a New England Fall. For another, visiting my ancestral home of Worcester resurfaced old memories and cemented the veracity of that old quip about not being able to go home again.

My home town is no longer a grimy and forgettable factory town, having transitioned into the modern world in important ways. Perhaps not being able to go home again is a good thing. Finally, I realized that sheparding my vehicle across the country was not as difficult as, say, bounding up a flight of stairs, an effort that likely would result in an immediate cardiac arrest these days. I haven’t lost all of life’s opportunities.

Anyway, in this blog, let me note a few observations about my sentimental journey back in time. First, a caveat. I covered some of what is below in my prior blogs titled The Education of Mr. Tom. No matter, at my age I’m permitted some repetition. At least I have some visuals to share this time around.

The first two pics (below) capture my early years. That’s me in front of my childhood home. We occupied the bottom flat in this 3-decker as they were called. My grandmother (my dad’s old Irish mother) lived in the top flat. I spent a lot of time with her. She seemed to like me while I was never sure of my parent’s feelings, at least during the early years. It always struck me that I was more of an inconvenience to them, interfering with their social lifestyle.

I cannot explain why they haven’t erected some kind of memorial to recognize their most famous past resident … me, of course. But there you have it. Where the white car is parked, there was a  bushy barrier and a large tree that annually spawned a hard nut we kids employed as weapons against one another. The red car occupies what had been a grassy area leading to a quite large back yard where our imagination created western landscapes full of cowboys or battlefields where we defeated the Nazis one more time.  Our games were not for sissies. How we survived remains a mystery.

The 2nd pic is a shot of Ames Street, my world as a child. It is so much smaller than I recall. There was a vast park at the far end of the street. Still, in those early years, the large number of kids who populated these streets seldom ventured that far. We would amuse ourselves for hours playing (as suggested above) war, cowboys and Indians, or simple athletic contests which only needed a tennis ball or football. You know, run to the Ford and I’ll throw you a pass. Inevitably, either the ball, or the intended recipient, would crash into the car. I wonder now how many dents we put in the parked cars back in our day. Now, traffic is one way, then it was two-ways. Ah yes, the street was our world, even if presented us with a cramped venue.

Ames street seemed so much larger in my memory. Even when we went to the official playground, we often amused ourselves with simple, competitive games such as stickball. This was played on the tennis court since no one in this working class area actually played tennis. Stickball was a primitive game that could be played with (no surprise) a tennis ball and a sawed-off broom handle. This was affordable equipment easily available to us.

The next several pics capture my educational preparation for my life as a policy wonk and fake academic. The first pic is of my old grammar school, then called Upsala St. Elementary school, an institution erected in the late 1800s. My older cousin was forced to accompany me to school when I was in kindergarten to ensure I didn’t get lost along the three block journey (I wasn’t the brightest bulb after all). She insists we got a sound education there despite it being situated in a rather downtrodden working class neighborhood.

I can’t dispute her assessment of the school’s quality though their judgment might be suspect. I recall being a thoroughly average student (at best). And yet, they selected me for an advanced class at Providence Street Junior High (next pic). I can still recall the principal (a Miss Carmody, I believe) calling me into her office to tell me of this ‘honor.’ She seemed as surprised at the decision as I was. Then, again, I was totally shocked. What the hell were they thinking? I had no idea what was going on.

Neither institution now serves its original purpose. The Upsala school was converted to elderly apartments long ago while what we called ‘Prov’ Junior High is still used for an educational purpose of some sort, though I’m not quite sure what. What I recall from my experience at Prov was being in this ‘advanced’ class composed of 4 other boys and some 20 or more girls. Apparently, we were the only boys from all the feeder elementary schools not to run afoul of the law. I don’t remember any of the girls (by name or appearance) though I believe they generally outperformed us boys academically as a group. Undoubtedly, they actually studied. We, not so much!

Among the few males (we brave 5), I once again proved to be an undistinguished scholar. I put myself in either 3rd or (more likely) 4th place. Ken (with a long Russian name) was clearly 1st; Andy (with a long Lithuanian name) was 2nd; Eddie (with a French name) was likely 3rd. I slightly trailed Eddie with a boy named John bringing up the rear. In a prior blog I talked about worrying that no one would hire me when I was an adult. Such fears seemed eminently justified during this period where I struggled in the classroom, and in life.

Then it was on to Saint Johns Prep (as it was known in those days). It was my only tenure in a Catholic run educational institution. The Xaverian Brothers ran the place. It was a competitive school where admission was based on how well one did on an entry examination. I shocked myself by not only passing (thus securing admission) but earning a spot in the top Freshman class.

They just began to move the school from the central city to the suburbs during this period. I only attended the fancy suburban school shown in the pic for my senior year (1961-62) … a small part of the fancy new campus can be seen above. It now rivals any bucolic University campus and costs over $20,000 per year to attend. For the majority of my school days, however, we attended classes in decrepit buildings (the oldest dating from the 1800s) located in the worst part of town. I drove by the site during this trip. Nothing remains of the old school, just a parking lot with lots of homeless squatters. Depressing indeed.

It shows that a good education does not require a fancy edifice or modern amenities. The Xaverian Brothers were dedicated and no nonsense educators. You stepped out of line and risked a whack upside the head. You never shared this with your parents since they likely would whack on the other side of your skull. But at least the cranial damage would be symmetrical.

Nor were we coddled. We ate our lunch outside, buying it from ‘Mike’s lunch wagon.’ He would arrive each noon to sell us sandwiches and such. We did this even in winter, when temps were well below freezing. Okay, during blizzards they let us consume our sandwiches in the gym. I can yet envision our headmaster, walking amongst us sans jacket as snowflakes coated our lunches. He was always smiling and telling us what a fine day it was as as our fannies shivered in the cold.

Once again, I did not excel in the classroom. I cannot precisely estimate my rank but it was not in the top-quarter of my class. My self image of a well-meaning but hapless scholar was now firmly entrenched. It would be a script deeply embedded in my psyche, one that would not be erased (even partially) for many decades.

After an ill considered detour into a Catholic Seminary of one-plus years, I stumbled into Clark University. There, as I cover in previous blogs, I blossomed intellectually and broke free from the cultural confines in which I had been imprisoned. My natural inquisitiveness was released. It was as if my mind suddenly exploded with questions and a need to explore the world about me. I owe so much to this institution as I mentioned in earlier blogs. It is where I became me.

As an educational institution, Clark was created in 1887 as the second graduate school in the country, after Johns Hopkins. It had some high points in its history along with some difficulties. Below, my friend Mary stands along side a sculpture of Sigmund Freud, who gave his only American lectures at Clark. The American Psychological Association was also launched at Clark. As one survey of higher education put it, Clark is one of 40 educational institutions that takes somewhat average students and prepares them for careers in top universities. That describes my experience perfectly.

The picture of the golf course below is not a mistake. On this site, the exploration of space had its beginnings. Clark Physics professor Robert Goddard developed and launched the first successful liquid fuel rocket, thereby initiating our exploration of space. He is yet regarded as the godfather or our space program.

It is also the site where I firmly established the fact that I would remain one of the more pathetic practitioners of this noble game. As a kid, I would walk some two (closer to three) miles with my clubs (the last mile uphill) to play golf all day (for $1 buck). Then trudge home with inescapable evidence that I sucked at this game. Seems impossible now since the walk to the bathroom seems equivalent to the Bataan death march.

The trip back to Worcester had a few personal touches. In the Pic below, I am having dinner with Ron and his lovely wife Mary. Ron was a childhood friend who shared his own terrible golf game with me. In other sports, like basketball, he was a star in high school.

Mary still likes to share with me the story about the time I suggested she forego marrying this lug and experience the world before settling down. As I’ve mentioned, I thought marriage was death. She had, fortunately, the good sense to ignore me. Most women do, thank god. They have been together over 55 years and gave 4 kids and many grandkids.

Below is Sharon, and her husband Tom. She is the child of my (late) favorite cousin, the one forced to take me to Upsala St. School. We had a lovely lunch at one of those quaint restaurants in the New England countryside before a ride to Concord where the American revolution started. As you know, I never have had regrets about my decision to forego having children. However, if I had had one, I’d want it to be like her. So sweet. With my luck, though, a kid of mine would grow up to be a Republican. Perish that thought!!!

I am a sentimentalist, one who loves reminiscing about earlier days. I guess that yearning takes on a certain urgency in one’s advanced years. Thus, you must endure my flights into the past. Warning … I may continue other parts of this trip in future blogs.  Fortunately, your delete button is at hand.

Anyway, I hope I have not become too much of a irritant in your lives. I will try to bother you less with my hobby of sharing the various nonsense that wander though my fecund brain.

I recently noticed a Republican spokeperson blaming Charlie Kirk’s assassination totally on the ‘ruthlessness’ of left-wing values and on vitriolic Democratic rhetoric, while holding her own party utterly blameless. Such myopia always surprises me, though these sentiments really should not shock me in the least. Scapegoating, blaming others, is a hallmark of the rigid or ultra-right mindset. On the other hand, exploring reactions to the sad events associated with the Utah shooting may reveal insights into the MAGA mindset. So, let’s go!

One can go right to the wanna-be strongman himself to find the classic authoritarian response to any public tragedy  … blame your enemies. Jeff Timmers of Lincoln Square put Trump’s immediate response to the Kirk tragedy this way. “His oval office response to the assassination was pure authoritarian theater. With not a shred of evidence, Trump blamed his political opposition. He did not pause for facts, for law enforcement, for mourning. He reached for the strongman’s first tool: scapegoating. By blaming his enemies, he seeks to mobilize his followers, discredit his critics, and justify repression. This is not a new tactic. It is a well-worn script of Stalin, Mao, Hitler, Franco, Mussolini, Pinochet … and now, unmistakably, Trump.”

Considering the meme above, can anyone really believe that the stock MAGA response has been little more than the time worn cynical  gamemanship long mastered by those of an authoritarian bent. Could our MAGA friends actually believe what they are saying or is it just more psychological projection? Perhaps they suffer from some sort of cognitive shortfall or have fallen prey to a kind of delusional thinking. The easiest answer to these queries lies with being afflicted with a mental pathology that makes being disingenuous far easier than for those burdened with an actual conscience.

Still, such conundrums got me thinking about the deeper sources of our current threat to national democracy. Why do our national leaders take glee in seeing the comity that once existed in our political fabric totally unravel? Why has American politics become a blood sport?

There is little doubt that civility and reason have been the first  victims of the recent push toward authoritarian rule. George W. Bush, while not a man of deep thought, occasionally hits a high note. On the 20th anniversary of 9-11, he said the following, “… a maligned force seems at work in our common life that turns disagreement into argument, and every argument into a clash of cultures. So much of our politics has become a naked appeal to anger, fear, and resentment.” He went on to add the following. “There is little cultural overlap between violent extremists at home and abroad. But in their disregard for human life, in their determination to defile national symbols, they are children of the same foul spirit. And it is our duty to confront them.”

No one epitomizes this foul spirit noted by Bush (the son) more aptly than Stephen Miller, Trump’s Chief of Staff and inspiration behind the administration’s mass deportation thrust, otherwise known as ethnic cleansing. In response to the Charlie Kirk assassination by a young, white man from a MAGA supporting family, Miller lashed out at his (and Trump’s) enemies with rather extreme language even by the low to non-existant standards of the MAGA crowd: “There is an ideology that has been steadily growing in this country which hates everything that is good, righteous and beautiful and which celebrates everything that is warped, twisted and depraved. It is an ideology at war with family and nature. It is envious, malicious, and soulless. It is an ideology that looks upon the perfect family with bitter rage while embracing the serial killer with tender warmth. Its adherents organize constantly to tear down and destroy every mark of grace and beauty while lifting up everything monstrous and foul. Its an ideology that leads, always, inevitably and willfully, to violence … violence against those (who) uphold order, who uphold family, who uphold all that is noble and virtuous in the world. It is an ideology whose one unifying thread is the insatiable thirst for destruction.”

Wow, who are these demons? Should I go out and finally buy a gun? Is Stephen talking about Fascists, Marxists, Islamic Jihadists? No, he is referring to people like me, like you, and like all my retired professional friends who yet believe in democracy, compassion, and civility. The ideology he rails against are those labeled as woke in MAGA circles … merely those gentle souls who seek a fairer and more equitable society where everyone has a chance to succeed. He is talking about those who actually appreciated Christ’s message as a moral teacher.

His rant, reflective of the instinctive, knee-jerk MAGA response to the Kirk assassination, contradicts the findings of a DOJ report issued just last year. That document stated clearly that, since 1990, far-right extremists were responsible for far more ideological-motivated homicides than the far-left or even Islamic extremists. It might be noted that the report was deleted from the DOJ website shortly after the Kirk incident. It failed to support the administration’s propoganda push.

Miller, of course, is the architect behind recasting ICE as a contemporary version of Hitler’s Gestapo. In Noem v. Vasquez Perdomo, the U.S. Supreme Court in effect blessed the Los Angeles immigration raids that swept up people who looked Latino, spoke Spanish, and worked those low wage jobs typically avoided by native white Americans. Speaking for the minority of justices opposed to this decision, Justice Sonia Sotomayor responded as such. “We should not have to live in a country where the government can seize anyone who looks Latino, speaks Spanish, and appears to work in a low-wage job. Rather than stand idly by while our constitutional freedoms are lost, I dissent.” She is trying to remind the court of long held principles, like probable cause, steps embedded in the Constitution to protect the basic rights of people. She, and her two progressive colleagues, are waging a hopeless fight to keep America as a nation of laws.

In my prior blog, I argued that we have always had an authoritarian tendency in America, despite being considered a laboratory for democracy and freedom. Aside from George Washington (see prior blog), one of his later political opponents (James Madison) also argued in the Federalist Papers arguing for ratification of the Constitution that extremist political factions could arouse partisan passions and possibly threaten our emerging and yet fragile Republic. One thing the Founding Fathers agreed upon was the need to avoid a return to authoritarian rule, such as a renew form of monarchy or any similar strongman rule.

However, let us next look at what is considered an authoritarian outlook? Well, it is a perspective that values order over liberty, hierarchy over equality, tradition over change, rigidity over innovation, obedience over participation, loyalty over individuality, and certainty over nuance. Real Democracy, when practiced (and which took a long time to mature in America) challenges the authoritarian outlook. It is inclusive, messy, uncertain, and very difficult to effect and sustain. Thus, authoritarians prefer a more hierarchical, top-down form of governance that values stability and predictability.

Authoritarians,  and their designated leaders, often seek to master the elemental instruments of control: the bureaucracy, the military, internal security,  the legal system, higher education, the media, election protocols, and the civil society or culture. Even a cursory review of Trump’s second term is a classic example of authoritarian usurpation of these essential systems. Make no mistake, his purpose is to institute permanent MAGA rule, thus ending the American experiment.

Perhaps a brief comment on where authoritarianism creeps into overt mental illness is in order. Most dimensions of human belief and behavioral tendencies lie on a spectrum. Authoritarian personalities, in the extreme, can border on various forms of psychopathy. Think of Steve Miller, Steve Bannon, the late Charlie Kirk, several cabinet members (Pete Hegseth or Robert Kennedy Jr.). Such individuals, and many others in the Trump’s immediate orbit appear to have psychopathic traits … either in the form of malignant narcissism, apparent sociopathic tendencies, or outright psychopathy. Let us peek at each of these.

Narcissism (especially of the malignant variety) is revealed as a constant need for praise and recognition. Most of us have ego needs to some extent. But a few have such compelling and overwhelming needs in this regard that the afflicted individual cannot empathize with the legitimate needs or perspectives of others. Their world centers on themselves. Witness Trump turning cabinet meetings into childish gatherings in which each official is expected to heap egregious praise on his excellency.

Still, normal narcissists can feel some remorse when confronted with their extreme behaviors. Those with a malignant form of the condition, however, likely are evidencing borderline sociopathic or psychopathic traits.

Sociopathic individuals have zero regard for ordinary societal rules that govern interpersonal relations. They take pleasure in being manipulative, even aggressive to the point of inflicting pain or harm on others. When things go wrong, they blame those same others though, in some cases, can appreciate their own culpability. Unlike those afflicted with psychopathy, there is little evidence that this condition is hard wired. There might be more nurture than nature in this affliction.

Psychopaths represent the extreme form on this spectrum though, admittedly, it is not always easy to separate one condition from another. However, the true psychopath has no empathy for others. They literally cannot feel what others experience. Thus, they cannot form relationships, though they can be charming and fake superficial forms of attachment. At their core, they have a meanness that is incalculable, spilling over into outright joy at inflicting pain on others.

Psychopathy is more of an innate trait (nature over nurture), often identifiable from distinctly different developments in the amygdala and other parts of the brain. People are born as psychopaths. Steven Miller seems to possess all the classic traits though he is far from the only one who does at the top of the Trump circus.

Of course, most of Trump’s base support do not possess any of these overt mental diseases, at least we hope that’s the case. For more insights into the typical MAGA cultist, let us look at the work of Political scientist Mathew MacWilliams who has researched and written extensively on the topic of authoritarianism.

He notes that there has always been an embedded attraction to strongman rule in America. A. Palmer Mitchell used his government position to launch the so called Palmer raids at the end of WWI, anticipating today’s ICE raids by slightly over a century. He hoped to first exploit and then ride a growing fear of Bolshevism straight into the White House but never achieved enough name recognition to do so. Huey Long of Louisiana achieved name recognition during the great depression but was assassinated before he could do serious national harm. Various American neo-nazi groups (the Silver Shirts, the German-American Bund, other neo-Nazis) espoused the virtues of strongman rule until the attack on Pearl Harbor changed all. Senator McCarthy from Wisconsin tried to ride the post WWII Red scare to prominence but fell short in light of his advancing alcoholism before totally imploding.

Based on his extensive survey work, MacWilliams notes that between 35 and 40 percent of the U.S. population agree with the statement … ‘we need a strong leader who pays no attention to Congress or the Courts.’ This is a core sentiment embedded in the authoritarian personality. In the 50s and 60s, those with such authoritarian tendencies were distributed across the parties and, as a consequence, had no political base from which to do much harm. But the political and ideological realignment during the post-civil rights era irrevocably changed all that.

Three other factors are associated with the visible rise of authoritarianism we see fully expressed by the Trump era. First is the scale of communications. Contemporary social media platforms permit the almost instantaneous communication of views across like minded groups without the moderating influence of major centrist venues. These niche outlets permit the like minded to communicate with one another absent contradictory input. Remember that Joseph Goebbels, Hitler’s propoganda chief, sought to place cheap radios in every German home to spread the pernicious Nazi message.

Second, we have the phenomenon of demographic succession. All generations have somewhat common, though unique, experiences that they share. Old farts like me can recall times when government did good things … ended the depression or defeated Fascism or improved the nation’s infrastructure. Their (our) memories lead them (us) to a deeper faith in democratic impulses. The younger generation grew up in a world that distrusted government and most large institutions, where political lying or chicanery was routinely revealed, and where economic inequality spiraled and social opportunities seemed to diminish. Not surprisingly, there are dramatically different attitudes toward authoritarian rule across generations. While 65 Percent of old farts like me express a strong affinity for democracy, only 24 percent of today’s youth evidence similar sentiments.

Finally, there is a strategy called the path-dependent or critical path process to be considered. The current administration has blatantly, and without adequate resistance, employed obvious differential rewards to favor friends and punish enemies. No politician has threatened so called enemies as outrageously and effectively as Trump. Just ask the Presidents of our top Universities. Or ask the Board of the iconic New York Times that has been hit with a $15 billion dollar libel suit by Trump merely for printing all the news that’s fit to print, including items unfavorable to our dictator wanna-be. Not since John Adam’s infamous Alien and Sedition Act at the end of the 19th century has an administration sought to so transparently punish political opponents, though John was far less effective in doing so.

If today’s authoritarianism starts with a natural base of some 35 to 40 percent of the population, then these ancillary processes will quickly expand the base to a majority, or nearly so at least. Absent some countervaling set of circumstances or adverse political head winds, democracy in America will soon be spoken of only in the past tense.

In my head, I keep going back to the apochryphal Ben Franklin story. When asked by a curious bystander what form of government the founding fathers had created, he replied “a republic, if you can keep it.’ Now we face the severest test of his condition … if we can sustain it against today’s unrelenting attacks.

There are many hypotheses being raised to explain the rise of Trumpism. Some are quite reasonable, like the hollowing out of the middle class, the destabilizing rapid pace of change in contemporary society, the loss of inherent hegemony among white nativists, or rising inequality and perceived loss of social mobility. These, and many others, have merit. But I would not rule out an explanation based on basic flaws inherent within the American character. Perhaps this is what is meant by the phrase American exceptionalism. That is, we have a tendency to be exceptionally bat-shit crazy.

🥴😵‍💫😥

If anything marks the persona of MAGA cultists, it is a conscious form of cruelty. Trump and his minions have a large and growing list of enemies that they routinely belittle, libel, bully, and attack. Any violent dispositions or actions they project onto their enemies are behaviors they themselves evidence in spades. The meaner Trump is, the more his cult followers admire him, more likely adore him. We woke types long ago thought the Donald would be finished when he cruelly mocked a disabled reporter. His inexcusable affront to this struggling man only raised his popularity among the right-wing base, or should I still say cult. Today, an animus of hate, perhaps rage, permeates what had been the genteel GOP.  Our civil society lies in ashes.

Where does all this vitriol come from? On one hand, it has been part of the American fabric from the beginning. After the honeymoon period during the administration of George Washington, partisan feelings emerged with a vengeance, despite the father of our country’s dire warnings to the contrary. As George poised to return to Mount Vernon, he warned about the dangers of political factions for they ‘are likely, in the course of times and things, to be one potent engine, by which cunning and unprincipled men will be able to subvert the power of the people and to usurp for themselves the reins of government.‘ He went on to warn against one political faction dominating the government, claiming this could lead to ‘a more formal and permanent despotism.’

Perhaps he was anticipating the emergence of a Trump-like character. Alas, not even he was that prescient. More likely, he saw the intense factional feelings developing around him as his Presidential tenure was coming to a close. The Federalist Party, in which he along with John Adams and Alexander Hamilton were founding members, generally argued for a stronger central government including a national bank and federal investments in infrastructure and the economy. The opposition party, led by Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, preferred a highly decentralized form of government that was agrarian based and which fully embraced the hegemony of white males as naturally born to rule. Don’t be fooled by the rhetoric attaching rights to all, the word all really meant white, propertied males. The Federalists remained attached to Britain while Jefferson’s Democratic-Republicans were enamored with France.

The split in philosophies was pronounced and quite vitriolic from day one. The two Presidential campaigns waged between Adams and Jefferson were marked by bitter personal attacks on both sides. Each side had their own partisan outlets, much like Fox and MSNBC today, that attacked the other side without mercy nor with much attention to veracity. When Adams lost his reelection bid in 1800, the New England states considered secession rather than remaining within an association dominated by a largely southern culture they found backward, if not perverse.

Upon losing reelection in 1800, Adams made a number of last minute federal appointments to support members of his own party and to thwart the opposition’s agenda. An administrative oversight permitted the incoming President (Jefferson) to keep several appointees from office. The resulting legal kerfuffle led to the iconic 1803 Supreme Court ruling by John Marshall that first established our highest court as final arbiter of what was to be considered constitutional and what was not.

Jefferson would rail against this ruling for years, despite the fact that Marshall was related to him. He feared granting such authority to our highest court would result in it becoming a ‘despotic’ entity. Unlike Trump, however, Adams never tried to remain in power by popular uprising or force of arms. He merely got into his carriage on the morning of Jefferson’s inaugural and headed back to Boston. The young American Constitution prevailed.

Over our long history, this early political divide would undergo twists and turns while the foundational bases for the rabid inter-party disputes remained relatively inviolate. The Federalist Party would first segue into the Whig Party before settling in as the anti-slavery Republican Party in the mid-1850s. Jefferson’s Democratic-Republican faction (generally referred to as Republicans in his day) were recast as the populist Democratic Party during the administration of Andrew Jackson.

By the time of our horrific civil conflict, the Republican Party was seen as the northern, liberal faction while the Dems were the mossback state’s rights and pro-slavery group strong in the South. For that reason, the South remained tied to the Democratic Party until the 1960s, long after the two factions had switched foundational principles.

The cultural divisions that separated the two ideological opponents only became chrystal clear in recent decades. Even in the 1950s and 1960s, you would find far-right racist politicians in the Democratic fold and outright liberals among their Republican foes. Think about it. Richard Nixon was a big spender who increased the reach and scope of government while Dwight Eisehower would be considered a damn socialist among today’s MAGA followers. In fact, he was accused of being a Communist sympathizer among the extreme right (e.g., members of the John Birch society).

Even as the GOP continued its rightward drift after the Reagan and Gingrich revolutions, some Republican leaders desperately tried to keep their party moored to something approaching sanity. Consider the words of Bob Dole (circa 1995) as he ran for the Presidency against Bill Clinton. During one campaign speech, he asserted that “… the Republican Party is broad and inclusive. It represents many streams of opinion and many points of view. But if there’s anyone who has mistakingly attached themselves to our party in the belief that we are not open to citizens of every race and religion, then let me remind you, tonight this hall belongs to the party of Lincoln. And the exits which are clearly marked are for you to walk out of as I stand on this ground without compromise.” Can anyone imagining Donald Trump uttering such sentiments.

Let us not forget that the core sentiments of racial, nativist sentiments have always been there, feelings that were expressed in a form of entitlement associated with a mythical form of Aryan superiority, if not ancestral and racial supremacy. In the 1850s, we had the powerful know-nothing movement, a nativist uprising in response to immigration from the wrong areas of the globe … places like Ireland and southern Europe or those espousing religions such as Catholicism which revered the Pope in Rome.

Nothing captured the embedded elitism and sense of innate privilege in our dominant culture like the speech given by Southern Democratic Senator James Hammond on March 4, 1854 in defense of slavery. He asserted the legitimacy of what he termed to be the ‘mudsill’ perspective where the ideal society contains an inviolable hierarchical structure … a preordained caste system if you will. Hammond argued that “In all social systems, there must be a class to do the menial duties, to perform the drudgery of life. That is, a class requiring but a low order of intellect and but little skill. Its requisites are vigor, docility, fidelity. Such a class you must have, or you would not have that other class which leads progress, civilization, and refinement.” Does this speech not presage the recent Trump takeover of the Republic Party?

Some relatively sane Republicans hung tough as the GOP as a whole lurched dramatically further to the right since Dole lost to Clinton in the mid 1990s. For example, who can forget John McCain scolding a supporter at a rally for belittling Barak Obama as a radical Muslim. He gently rebuked her saying his opponent for the presidency was, though misguided policy wise, a decent and honorable man. Such civility is gone.

At the recent National Conservatism Conference, Republican Eric Schmitt of Missouri sounded the new rallying call for the now lost and abandoned Party of Lincoln. “America, in all its glory, is their (our white, northern European early settlers and pioneers) gift to us. Its our birthright, our heritage, our destiny. if America is everything and anyone, then it is nothing and no one at all. But we all know that is not true.” In case anyone missed his call for a white, nativist, country, he goes on. “…America does not belong to them. It belongs to us. It’s our home. It’s a heritage entrusted to us by our ancestors. It is a way of life that is ours and only ours, and if we were to disappear, then America too will cease to exist.” In stark terms, he was saying that the Aryan race would not be replaced.

In his speech, Schmitt lauds Donald Trump’s legacy for stripping bare the shortcomings of the old GOP message, one that supported legal immigration. No, the new creed harkens back to the message of cultural supremacy on which Hitler and so many other tyrants rode to power and destruction, even if only for the moment. It is a message of preordained or manifest destiny based on ascribed attributes such as skin color and ancestral home. George Washington was correct, it would seem. Our politics was vulnerable to factional groups, those driven by fear and a false sense of existential threat. We are, it would appear,  extremely vulnerable to those who would skillfully employ a base form of fear and hate to dominate our national discourse and even redirect our overall purposes.

How could such a thing happen? Well, answering that would take a book. But one thing is clear. Some of us panic at anything, no matter how unreasonable, that could result in a perceived loss of privilege and social status. Simply the presumed threat is reason enough to lash out with indiscriminate passions.

There are so many examples of this in history. The divide between Sunni and Shia Muslims goes back to the 7th century. It emerged from which lineage for carrying on the Muslim faith should be considered correct. For centuries, these two factions fought for preeminence and control. Even today, people kill each other over this ancient dispute. The dream of pan-Arabism or a pan-Islamic state routinely foundered on such ancient divides.

Two years ago, when I looked at the walls built in Derry and Belfast of Northern Ireland to separate the Catholic and Protestant communities, it was clear just how passionate small theological differences could become. The Berlin Wall and Trump’s border wall paled in comparison to these imposing structures. All were Irish, all were white. Yet, each tribe remained mortal enemies for reasons others might deem trivial.

From the dawn of civilization, people have killed one another over seemingly small distinctions in cultural preferences and/or irrelevant spiritual practices. Sometimes, it seems, the  more insignificant the differences, the more desperate and passionate and visceral are the reactions.

For whatever reasons, the MAGA cultists fear a loss of privilege and social status. It seems ridiculous to most of us. Nevertheless, they are striking out irrationally at ‘imagined’ threats they have been brainwashed to blame for what they feel is a diminished status in society. The power of Fox news is stunning. Then again, they  believe their presumed hegemony back in a mythical America that may never have existed is under attack. They feel they are slowly, inexorably losing their position in society. They are being replaced, or so they believe.

It is only now that we can see how devastating the election of Obama was to their world view, nor how visceral has been their response to perceived disrespect emanating from coastal elites. You can literally feel the hate. Both President Johnson and W.E.B. Dubois (the 1st African-American to be awarded a Ph.D. from Harvard) captured the essence of the critical American social divides. They stressed the efficacy of giving the Caucasion community (especially the less well off) another tribe over which to feel superior as an inherent right. Do that and you can exploit them as you will. A terrible bargain when you think on it.

Then again, such sentiments facilitate the tried and true formula used by all despots over time. Trump has told his adoring followers who is to blame for their imagined losses of status. If they feel a loss of respect or witness a decline in economic security or social dominance among members of their tribe, Trump has given them convenient scapegoats. It is the woke elite that disrespects them; It is the alien foreigner with the wrong color who threatens their livelihood. More critically, he has convinced them that only he can save them. And so, they have come to hate all non-believers, woke people like me, and you. And really, I know I’m quite harmless. I suspect you are as well.

Who is able to convince them that … the only thing they have to fear is fear itself.

I want to return to the story of my personal moral and political evolution. Several blogs ago, I outlined a substantive transformation that occurred to me during my college years. The crux of that tale focused on the seemingly abrupt transition from a conventional Catholic, ethnic, working class kid who (mostly) reflected the conservative values of his culture into a raving leftist, if not revolutionary. Okay, not quite that bad, though it must have looked so to my despairing parents.

Nonetheless, the change appeared to be quite dramatic, if not inexplicable. Still, there were prior signs perhaps suggesting  such a transition, if one were paying attention that is. Again, in the spirit of transparency, memory is a very fickle mistress.

Given faulty recollections, I remain cautious about how much faith to put into the narrative shared below. And yet, if history is any guide, I’m more likely to understate as opposed to overstate events and especially my qualities. Such, alas, is a reflection of my ever present imposter syndrome.

No matter, here is what I recall. I believe I had strong empathic impulses from an early age. Unlike girls, boys don’t have best friends. We hardly have friends at all, just ruffians to pummel occasionally and whose asses you hope to whip in future athletic contests. Yet, I recall times when my buddies would have some form of conflict between them and, heaven forbid, would want me to take sides. Perhaps they confused me with someone who gave a damn. My instinct, however, inevitably was to be the peacemaker. I never wanted anyone to feel rejected or left out or inferior, as I often did myself. Apparently, I hated conflict right from the start or perhaps was overly sensitive to the feelings of others.

Then there were these social and political positions I adopted at early age. In an earlier blog, I’m sure I mentioned the vignette where I strongly supported the nation’s Supreme Court decision to desegregate public schools. I went off on this rant (at age 13?) when I heard visitors from the South criticizing the top Court’s legal strike for racial inclusion. My passion on this matter seemed to emerge from nowhere. Surely, no one in my environment felt like this, or at least not this strongly.

And then there was this whole set of thoughts about globalism. I was convinced as a kid that we needed to get away from all this patriotic, jingoistic nonsense. And this was during the height of the Cold War when we all worried the Russkies would fry our butts one day with a nuclear bomb. Still, I had this instinctive, non-tribal need for a world without borders even as I retained considerable pride in being an American. I may even joined (or thought about joining) something called the World Federalist Society, probably a Commie front now that I think on it. Nevertheless, I never could understand why we didn’t use our nation’s great bounty more aggressively to meet the many humanitarian needs so evident across the globe. Is that not what Jesus would do?

These remembered vignettes, among others, have always puzzled me. Perhaps they shouldn’t. I’ve become more convinced over time that while nurture is important, one should never discount nature. It could well be that I was blessed (or cursed) with these strong empathic impulses right at birth. These were basic or instinctive foundations that inexorably drew me to reject the tribalism and exclusionary world in which I had been raised. Such dispositions may all be hard wired. I guess you can’t ignore what God has put in.

But what happened when I was about to go out into the real world … after college and the Peace Corps and earning a Masters Degree. This juncture in life happened during the latter days of the Vietnam protest era. I recall, upon coming back from India, that the younger cohort of leftists on campus seemed to lack what I viewed as authenticity in their political positions. They appeared to be going through the motions, acting according to a given script, mouthing slogans absent serious thought. A few years earlier, I had arrived at my world view after enduring a crucible based on hard and passionate internal struggle. I wasn’t convinced that they had done the same.

I do have this sense that I worried a bit about my future, perhaps more than a bit. When I was young, I couldn’t imagine anyone being foolish enough to hire me. I had no marketable skills from what I could see, except for the inherent Irish ability to generate copious amounts of BS on command. Still, I had never seen a want ad looking for someone who could spout BS on a moments notice 😞.

I do recall someone from my neighborhood, a few years older than I, who was starting his career in the FBI. He pulled me aside one day to give me what he thought was well-considered advice. He warned that ‘my politics in college could easily interfere with my future.’ Essentially, he strongly suggested that my youthful indiscretions were screwing up any remote chance of me being successful in life. I couldn’t easily dismiss his dire warnings.

In fact, I did worry about having an FBI file somewhere. Really, didn’t everyone have a file back then? I remember this one guy who suddenly showed up at the meetings of the student antiwar group I had organized at Clark University. He always tried to be so helpful though I could not place him from anywhere on our small campus. I was quite positive he was a government plant. They were omnipresent during those years.

My favorite story, which some of you might be tired of hearing, involved my military draft physical. Yes, they caught up with me as I was finishing up my masters program in Milwaukee. Oddly enough, I didn’t recall giving them any trouble, as I recall some of the other kids doing. I had always been the good boy. On that day, I was compliant, going through the process absent complaint.

My moment came during a set of paper and pencil tests (the academic stuff was easy, the mechanical questions utterly baffled me). Included in these skills assessment exercises, they included some queries about our political beliefs and associations. Most were dated or innocuous. However, there there was an open-ended question about whether one had belonged to any organization that advocated the violent overthrow of the U.S. government.

I paused at that one, then raised my hand. I asked a grizzled sergeant whether the Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) qualified under question Q. “You bet your ass it does, buddy, he redponded.” So, I dutifully filled in the space provided to those with positive responses for recording the required explanatory information, being the honest cuss that I was.

When we got to the end where we dropped off our papers and exited to freedom, things went awry. The person at the exit door looked at my papers, then at me, then at my papers again, then back at me. This was taking way too long. Was I drooling or something? Had I spawned horns from my skull? Then he said, ‘you report to floor number 3.’ 🙄 No one else was going to the third floor. I sensed doom.

You must understand, I had joined SDS rather early on. It was radical at that point but yet still rational. Most members, as I recall, were really smart college students who were questioning what they saw about them. That definitely was me, except for the part about being smart. I was never close to the nutty stuff that soon emerged as frustrations for some kids overwhelmed their common sense.

In any case, these three guys in uniform ushered me into a conference room. I relaxed a bit when I saw no rack or other instruments of torture. Then, each claimed to work for some intelligence agency or other, though they all sounded the same to me. That they worked in intelligence, however, seemed unlikely based on what happened next.

I was grilled for some two or three hours, virtually all of it inane to the extreme. Most escapes me now though I recall vividly that they asked if I would fight any and all enemies of the United States. By this time I was having fun. I recall leaning back in my chair as if deep in thought before replying … ‘I think we should start by defining enemy.’ They replied to that classic Corbett witticism (though sincerely meant) with something about dropping a-holes like me into North Vietnam. That prospect, admittedly, was quite disconcerting. But I suspected they would not do that in the moment.

Back to my main theme! What is the classic trajectory for one’s political and normative life? Is it not that we are liberal in our youth but grow more staid and conservative as we face adult responsibilities. After all, we have careers to pursue, mortgages to pay, and especially families to care for. Who can expect to sustain their political passions or beliefs in light of those pressures? I recall thinking on such matters as the freedom of my youth was coming to an end, assuming my military inquisitors were not successful in dropping me into the middle of a Vietcong stronghold. Little did I know then that I would find a way  to largely evade real adulthood by falling into a most rewarding niche in the best refuge for those wishing to escape reality … the University academy.

One potential pitfall attached to my early radicalism never materialized as I feared it might … that of pursuing a reasonable career in life. I never did decide on a specific professional path nor determined what I wanted to do as an adult. It turns out that’s a remarkably difficult decision to make when you have no skills. I simply enjoyed the luck of the Irish.

Having given the matter remarkably little thought back then (unlike the college kids I taught later), finding my life’s work proved to be a matter of total serendipity and dumb kismet. In school, I simply took classes that interested me. As I completed my masters, I was adrift. I had no idea where I might be going or what I night do .

I got my first real job (I actually worked continuously in menial jobs from my freshman year in high school on) when a professor I did some work for called to tell me I had a job interview in Madison the next morning. (There is a back story here but the call came as a total surprise.) All he had was the address of a government office and a room number. I arrived to discover it was a three-person Wisconsin civil service interview for a position with the title of Research analyst-social services. I knew little about either so thought my prospects for employment nil. After a second interview with the hiring supervisor, I got the job. It was an early example of how bizarre some bureautic decisions are. That odd personnel choice got me involved in human services and in a form of research activity.

About 4 years later, my agency bosses told me to work with a Professor from UW-Madison on a research grant to the federal government that needed state approval. I did and quickly forgot about it. Some time later, the Prof called to ask me if I would come to the University to run this complex project on a daily basis. He did need someone who knew how government worked, a skill which he mistakingly thought I possessed. I pondered that offer for 8 to 10 seconds before saying yes. I was not one to labor over things at length.

As the project came to a close after two years, I concluded that the academy (even with all the pressures of an R-1 research institution) was better than working for a living. So, I entered a doctoral program at UW even as I continued to help several faculty on other projects. Unlike my student peers, my doctoral studies were not my primary focus at the time … the policy issues in which I was emerged were. I was hooked on trying to solve impossible social problems. More or less, I would remain at the University (primarily the Institute for Research on Poverty and the School of Social Work) for some 30-plus years. 

When I reconnected with my old college crush after some 40 years, she remarked how I had turned out doing exactly as she had envisioned I would way back in school. Apparently, she knew I would find a niche in the world of ideas while focusing on social issues and the betterment of society. She intuited me far better than I did myself. In some way, she sensed that I had a plan (or perhaps fate) right from the beginning … which I clearly did not.

The other issue that caused me to pause on the precipice of adulthood was the specter of family responsibility … marriage and children. I had spent my entire youth denying any interest in marriage, considering it a fine institution only if you wish to be institutionalized. Still, I would succumb as do most men. But I did marry someone who was smart, independent,  and successful. She really did not need me which begs the question of why she put up with a loser like me for 50 years. Still, her not needing me took pressure off the marriage decision.

The bigger issue by far was children. After all, they are totally vulnerable for many years, perhaps decades if you are unlucky. Of course, there are many reasons for not issuing offspring. For example, I had a dark vision of the nation’s future back then. Then again, being half – Irish, my visions were always dark. Still, it struck me as unfair to any child to bring them into a world that held so little promise.

In addition, I was overwhelmed by the difficulty of raising a child. While I took on many hard tasks and responsibilities in life, that particular obligation (child- rearing) seemed way beyond my pay range. Many decades of watching others raise kids has not disabused me of that singular opinion in the least. I am totally in awe of good parenting.

And then there was the concern that is most germane to this blog. If I took on this awesome task. I might not be able to be true to myself, and to my beliefs. If I had to choose between my personal commitments and supporting others (especially a child), I would be torn indeed. I really never wanted to be in that untenable position.

So, I did what any coward would do … I got a vasectomy as a very young man. The physician I contacted to perform the dirty deed made me undergo psychological testing, just to see if I was into self-mutilation or whether I was just plain nuts. Somehow, I passed this exploration of my psyche. I always was a slippery cuss.

Adulthood did smooth the edges off my revolutionary fervor. While I was ensconced in the academy as a researcher and teacher and consultant and general policy wonk, I was swallowed up in the intricacies of doing public policy as an avocation. I did all the stuff of a traditional academic, but I was first and foremost a policy wonk. 

What I quickly discovered is that the doing of policy is a complex, multifaceted undertaking. You are forced to see both sides. Besides, little was straight forward. There were unintended consequences to even the best of ideas.

Back then, when it was possible, I worked with people from both sides of the political spectrum. We could find common ground if we tried. Reaching out to broad array of folk representing diverse points of view necessitated listening carefully and well. It demanded the kind of empathy based on appreciating views distinct from your own.

Now, my so-called area of expertise was social change with an emphasis on welfare reform. Okay, continuing to have the attention span of a firefly, I was all over the map. Still, I was in the trenches during the the bitter state and national fights over the nation’s approaches to helping our most vulnerable citizens. As Joseph Califano (President Carter’s HEW Secretary) once said, welfare reform is the Mideast of domestic policy. Trying to reform those programs was not an undertaking for the faint of heart.

I always sought a common ground where possible. One of my most impactful articles was a piece titled Child Poverty: Progress or Paralysis. In it, I articulated a metaphor (peeling an onion) through which I managed to argue that seemingly oppositional policy positions were, in fact, complementary. They merely addressed the needs and circumstances of distinct layers within the dependent population. For years, that article would crop up wherever I went. The federal General Accountability Office (GAO) routinely distributed it when Congressional offices asked for background information on welfare issues.

There were times, of course, when I was caught up in the moment. In those moments I would confront  difficult decisions and faced complex pressures. If you were in the middle of the reform fights, they could not be avoided. But, they will have to wait for a future blog. Perhaps I will master the virtue of brevity one day. But that day is not today.

Until my next rant, stay well.

Putting science, physics, and mathematics aside, ever wonder why divine revelations are so damn ambiguous. Think on it for a moment. Presumably, getting the concept of God right determines either our happiness in life or our eternal fate in death, or perhaps both. Yet, the revealed path to nirvana or salvation or even spiritual peace has been left to contentious dialogue or debate emanating from remarkably obscure directions and often vague hints from the guy (or gal) in charge. You would think an omniscient, loving divinity would do a better job at this critical task.

Why is that? Why are the presumed words of God (or truth) delivered in such an ambiguous and obtuse manner. Whether the Bible, the Quoran, the Vedas, or other spiritual sources, the pathway to righteousness is frustratingly indirect and downright confusing. Millions have been slaughtered in violent conflicts about what the sacred words mean or how to understand their intent. This strikes me as rather clumsy, or at least inexplicable, especially for an omniscient and allegedly caring entity enjoying divine attributes. What’s going on here?

While one could select any one of a number of holy or revered works, let’s focus on the classic Christian text … the Bible. After all, most of us have a passing familiarity with said document. I must admit, though, my detailed knowledge of this holy book is indeed sparse, despite my early religious devotion and study. Unlike Protestants, we Catholics relied more on our institutional hierarchy as opposed to the presumed word of God for ultimate truth and spiritual guidance. We rejected Martin Luther’s path to salvation through some personal connection with God’s grace as revealed in scripture. No, we were to obey our church and all its official representatives, including following all those arcane rules. Neither our own conscience nor merely reading the good book was sufficient to be saved. So, most of us never really read the damn thing. Clearly, my lack of experience and familiarity with said work might well result in many errors below.

In addition, let us stay with the New Testament. The Old Testament, after all, takes us back into the deeper history of the Jewish tribes. These ancient Judaic texts evolved over the course of many centuries during the long pre-christian era. They largely portray a fierce and unbending image of an authoritarian deity that seems strikingly at odds with the generally kinder image Jesus presented to his followers.

That’s really not surprising. After all, these ancient tribes were struggling to survive in a harsh environment surrounded by many strong, rather vicious enemies. Any useful God during this period would necessarily facilitate tribal identity, enforce cultural homogeneity, and promise military and political supremacy when things looked dire. And things were perpetually dire during those times.

Let’s start with a few basics. Can we know anything about Jesus from studying the Bible? Consider this. The historical Jesus, if real, spoke Aramaic. The teachings, actions, and events attributed to this teacher, prophet, or divine personage were first passed on in an oral tradition before being recorded by various individuals largely unknown to history. Names were assigned to various gospels but the real authors are shrouded in mystery. But scholars generally believe that they first passed from oral to a written form some two to four or more generations after the events described took place.

In effect, we are getting hearsay evidence (not admissible in court) that later went through several translations with all the linguistics misinterpretation and innocent (or not so innocent) errors attending to such reworkings. Aramaic sequed to Greek and then to Latin and finally to various indigenous languages. The latter transitions oft took place during contentious religious and/or political times. The King James version of the Holy Book was as much a political document as it was a spiritual guidebook. It was designed to repudiate heretical Papist leanings.

Moreover, politics were inevitably involved in the original selection of the holy works … those fortunate ones deemed suitable for inclusion in the document as sanctioned by the then church powers. Apparently, God’s word were the winners of a heated competition about the nature of Christ, the character of His message, and the ultimate organizational framework for this rapidly growing cult in the 4th century AD. Defining truth was not an easy undertaking.

We all know that Christianity got a huge boost from the Roman Emperor Constantine in 312 AD, presumably after seeing the vision of a cross during a successful military campaign. Whatever his motivations, he decriminalized non standard religious practices including Christianity. Likely finding the growing Christian community a useful ally in facilitating homogeneity within his far flung empire, he gave this pesky and persistent sect his imperial approval.

But there was a problem. By this time there were numerous written Gospels spreading different ‘words’ throughout this nascent community. These competing versions of the truth tended to divide believers and foster bitter disputes within the flock. Such internal dissention  proved counter productive to fostering a common culture.

Constantine started the process of forging a consensus theology by convening the Council of Nicea in 325. This meeting of the Church’s hierarchy did little to create a common set of approved texts. It did, however, establish the divine nature of the historical Jesus figure, thus repudiating a widespread Arian Heresy which posited that the Christ figure was a mortal merely representing God’s word on earth … that is, a mere teacher or prophet. It further developed an initial version of the Nicene Creed that summarized acceptable Christian beliefs.

The Bible we know today was developed in the latter decades of the 4th century. Homogeneity within the growing institutional church demanded an agreed upon holy text. How else could a firm authority be established? This was accomplished through three gatherings of church officials … the Council of Rome (382 AD), the Synod of Hippo (393), and the Council of Carthage (397). In effect, the Bible was created by a committee or, more accurately, several committees. And who said committees were worthless?

Why the desperate need for conformity? As the Roman empire was unraveling politically, a core belief was essential to sustaining social cohesion, or so it was thought. Even then, some 300 years after the initial Gospels emerged, the number of writings, and their diversity of thought, remained a threat to a coherent institutional framework. People took religion, or at least the threat of a painful afterlife, quite seriously. Getting stuff right was damn important. You might be burned alive in life (or for eternity in death) for getting it wrong.

How disconnected were the theological threads found in these many Gospels? We will never really know since most contrarian writings disappeared after the official Councils determined an approved version of the truth … that is, when they chose which versions of the truth to bless and which to condemn and erase. But we can glean some ideas from the scraps that survived this early version of Christian censorship and book burning.

Focusing on the core issue of the character of Christ, several distinct interpretations coexisted in these early works. The nature of Jesus found in the acceptable Gospels generally picture him as a divine being (more on this below). Fragments of other gospels  labeled as heretical, the writings attributed to Thomas and Mary Magdelan for example, define him in more human terms. He is not even especially unique, in some respects at least. Anyone who embraces the Word of God and spreads such to others can be considered a Christ, or at least a Christ-like figure. Beliefs like this would be dangerous to what was still a cult yet battling with traditional belief systems for dominance in the Roman world. Christ as an authentic and living deity would carry much more weight in the battle to establish whether my God was better than yours.

But here is what fascinates me. The nature of the Christ figure remains somewhat ambiguous within the Gospels that made the cut. The gospel according to John is the version where the issue is relatively clear  … Jesus is God. But his version, according to experts, was written somewhat after the others emerged. Temporally, it was the last of four chosen gospels to be developed.

By this time, the Christ as divine personage became more critical to cult followers as Jews began to reject the ‘savior’ as the authentic messiah even as inroads were being made among gentiles. Christ evolved away from the traditional messiah figure, a leader of men in a spiritual and political cause. He was increasingly seen as God in the flesh. That interpretation of the Christ figure was more marketable to those being recruited to the struggling sect.

Returning to my ambiguity theme, depictions of Christ in the first three accepted holy works seem to apresent a rather confusing picture. It strikes me that those authors leave room for multiple interpretations. Christ, on numerous occasions, asks his disciples to identify who he is. Then, he gives less than clear responses, if any. Was he the Jesus, the long promised Jewish Messiah, or not? Was he a guerrilla-type zealot dedicated to throwing over the Roman oppressors of Judea, or merely a spiritual leader updating ancient Jewish laws? Was he a prophet affirming God’s established law, or a deity himself announcing an entirely new set of beliefs? Did He not know himself or was He letting his disciples figure it out?

One has to admit, while the narrative (from birth to death and resurrection) is compelling drama, it is a confusing plot. Take the end game for instance. Jesus leads his followers into Jerusalem during Passover, the sacred Jewish holiday. For a rebellious, even dangerous, preacher in an unsettled time, this was a rash and foolish act. He then enters the city encouraging the crowd to call him the ‘son of David,’ suggesting a direct  lineage to political power. Not a good start to his visit since this raised questions about His real intentions. For some scholars, His purported actions suggested a revolutionary intent with distinctly political purposes.

Then what does He do? He enters the holy Temple and attacks those commercially profiting from the sacred sacrifices being done there. Perhaps a spiritually uplifting act (though don’t tell contemporary Evangelical grifters that) but also one clearly designed to stir up trouble. His actions literally beg for His arrest and persecution by the local Jewish religious leaders desperate to preserve the status quo while trying to keep Roman authorities happy.

So, what do these actions mean? What was He really up to? Was He one of many Jewish zealots who, in this volatile moment, believed the people would rise up with Him? Or did He anticipate His personal, and so very human, sacrifice as a spiritual testament and as a form of religious cleansing? Was His life devoted to leading the Jews out of bondage or was He pursuing profounder, more eschatological insights? His actions and words can go either way, especially when viewed in what we know about the historical tenor of those times.

Let us take the story line suggested by that gospel written further from the actual event, the one attributed to John. Jesus, as God on earth, knows exactly what is going to happen to Him. It is a preordained plan and has little to do with overthrowing foreign oppression. If so, how should we think about the various supporting characters in this setting?

Is Judas Escariot not a hero, dutifully carrying out his part of the already written sacred scene? What about the Roman Prefect, Pontius Pilot? Should he not be cast as a villain for allegedly wanting to free Jesus (thus thwarting the divine plan) while the Jewish leaders are to be praised for pushing His guilt and execution? Should we view the end game with horror or exaltation? Frankly, I haven’t a clue. Many questions to ponder. And therein lies the Hell of it … each must decide for him or herself.

So, what to make of all this? We have texts that were reworked endlessly over many centuries, that were chosen by several committees, and that were written in ways that permit (encourage?) multiple, if not contradictory, interpretations. In some cases, ommission is as important as commission. Abortion is not mentioned in the New Testament. One can find vague references in older Jewish law but also the prescription that life begins at the first breath. Oddly enough, basic issues that tear apart  contemporary debate find little resolution in the holy words available to us. In fact, we find inconsistencies on most major topics throughout the entire text. Virtually any position can find some support or condemnation somewhere. How frustrating!

Assuming this is God’s word, why all the inconsistencies and obtuseness? Perhaps it is a kind of exam. Get the puzzle right and win the biggest prize of all. Or perhaps it is some form of an intelligence test? Solve the enigmas and find everlasting life, assuming that’s an appealing future for you. Then again, the consequences of getting things wrong are presumably so very dire. Get it wrong and face an eternity of excruciating pain. You would think we would be given an option to play, or not play, this game before it starts. I don’t recall such a choice. Do you?

Even as a kid, such things puzzled me. Why would an omniscient deity create such pathetic creatures only to put them through this awful test, give them confusing directions where so many of them would fail miserably, and then punish the losers in horrific ways? And why would God wish to spend eternity with any of this crowd in the first instance? Humans are not exactly winners to begin with. Really!

Worse still, not everyone starts at the same place. That’s what really got me back in my Catholic high school days. Wasn’t it unfair to Chinese or Mongolian kids who never heard of Christ? Sure, some believers never accepted the prospect of eternal Hell for these poor kids, but not all. It just seemed damn unfair to me. I felt pangs of guilt for them.

I sometimes would think of God as a scientist, using earth and humans as research subjects. Perhaps our whole human tragedy is merely a Ph.D. study taking place on some higher dimension. But that seems unlikely, I could never imagine any human subjects committee approving this kind of research proposal. Consider all the suffering and slaughter generated by the tiniest distinctions found in theological disputes, especially those small ones and not the few substantively significant differences. It all seems so bloody meaningless.

Here is my bottom line. If anything can be justified and supported by the so-called Words of God, then what meaning do these sacred books have? Can we realistically look to holy texts for moral guidance? After all, wars have been fought, genocides committed, peoples enslaved, and whole segments of populations (i.e., women) subjugated … all these heinous actions being rationalized and supported by accepted interpretations of holy scripture. And yes, some good acts and personal sacrifices have been done as well. It does cut both ways.

At the end of the day, for me at least, knowing that someone is church-going or Bible-reading tells me absolutely nothing about their moral fiber. Caring, compassion, and civility come from within as far as I can see. External punishments or fear of divine retribution do little, if anything, to embed a shred of goodness in people. After all is said and done, the golden rule, sentiments found in all spiritual traditions, do the best job of all. The rest is window dressing at best, potentially dangerous at worst.

Let me be clear on this. I have known people whose traditional faith has prompted them to lead better lives. And I have known many whose membership in a faith community has afforded them comfort and support. All that is good and to be commended. But I’ve also witnessed way too many who employ religious association as a cudgel to attack others and their beliefs. Organized religion is the ultimate two-edged sword. It can be used for good or evil. You must decide for yourself which way the scales might tilt.

In the end, goodness and worth lie within our own person, they appear intrinsic to each individual. I must say this, though. Most of the better, the most kind and loving people I’ve come across in my eight decades on this planet, have been agnostics or atheists. That’s something to ponder. Then again, I’ve known a few non-believers who were assholes. So, there’s that as well. That’s what makes life great, or perhaps a training ground for Hell. There are seldom clear answers.

Thanks for letting me get all this off my chest.