Month: <span>November 2020</span>

When Is Moderation Not Appropriate?

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Over the last couple of weeks a question has been percolating in the back of my mind, in a way that combined both importance and vagueness. It was only just now, as I sat down and weighed which of the many topics I should choose to hold forth on this time, that it finally crystallized into the question I’m using for the title. “When is moderation not appropriate?” One assumes that the application of this question to the most recent election is obvious, but it’s also a far bigger question, encompassing things like war, morality, and existential risk. (We’ll see how much I can actually cover.) Additionally, and perhaps more important to me personally, it’s a question I’m not sure I have a very good answer for, so in part this post will be about working through various situations, hypotheticals, and arguments to see if I can arrive at or at least approach an answer.

First let’s cover the situation which spawned this post, the election outcome. It’s easy to imagine, that as close as it ended up being, that if Trump had been just slightly more moderate on some of the issues, slightly less belligerent on Twitter, spoken a little bit more about the need for unity and a little bit less only to his base, or perhaps if he had just been less combative during that first debate, that he would have won. Or to put it another way it’s hard for most people (including me) to imagine how he could have been less moderate. And I understand all the points about firing up the base, and turnout, but it’s hard to imagine that his most ardent supporters would have stayed home from an election they widely viewed as an existential crisis, even if he had exercised a little more moderation, and there were lots of groups, like Cuban and Veneuzeulan immigrants who held their nose, and voted for Trump. (Without whom he probably would have lost Florida.) Might not even more people have done that if Trump had been just slightly more moderate?

Further, even if you acknowledge that some extremism is necessary to fire up the base, there’s the argument to be made even there that he was too extreme, with the result that now his base can’t imagine a way for him to have lost the election without fraud. Something which will almost certainly haunt the country in the coming weeks and months, if not the coming years. (For a discussion of the actual allegations see my previous post.)

The same case for moderation might be made when it comes to Democrats as well — though one doesn’t want to spend too much time questioning Biden’s strategy, he did win after all (absent something unprecedented happening). But outside of Biden there is plenty of room to question whether the larger Democratic strategy would have benefitted from greater moderation, particularly given that, contrary to expectations, the Republicans are very likely to hold on to the Senate and they did far better than expected in the House elections as well. Suggestions for moderation on the Democrat’s part might include slightly greater patriotism, more nuance in the conflict between police and protestors, less discussion of court packing (recall that Biden refused to comment on it for quite a while before eventually declaring that he was not a fan) and in particular less extremism in the culture war. One common assessment of the election I heard is that even if Biden won, wokeness lost

I suspect that some of my readers might push back on this last point so in an effort to anticipate potential objections let me offer two further points: First, how many people were voting against Trump rather than for Biden? Does anyone think the enormous turn out had anything to do with excitement around Biden? If not, then it matters a lot less what Biden’s positions were, he had the “anyone but Trump” vote locked down. “Okay,” you might retort, “That frees him to take whatever position he wants, but doesn’t mean he should have been more moderate, perhaps he should have moved more to the left.” Are you sure? While we can’t recreate the world, start over in 2018, and choose Sanders or Warren in place of Biden, does anyone imagine that, in what ended up being a very close election, they would have done better? Certainly none of the polls conducted back when all three of them were still in contention bear that idea out. 

All of this leads me to conclude that Trump and the Democrats would have done better with more moderation. Does this mean that moderation is always good? Well, that is my question isn’t it, when is it not appropriate? As I said above I think the case for Biden being more moderate is kind of ambiguous, if the results hold (and I have every reason to suspect they will) then he won, and second guessing success is always dangerous, particularly if you define success narrowly. But as long as we’re on the subject of the most recent election, would the Republicans have done even better in the House and Senate if they had been more moderate? Here we have the same situation we had with Biden.  If we assume that the Republicans don’t lose both senate races in January’s special election then they will maintain control of the Senate. And if we suggest they should have been more moderate we are once again in the position of second guessing success. Though here, when talking about greater moderation among Senate Republicans, the elephant of confirming Amy Coney Barrett can’t be overlooked.

From a Republican/conservative perspective, the nomination of Barrett would appear to be a huge win. Not only is it something which fundamentally tilts the balance of power in the branch of government which increasingly appears to wield the most power — though I have already mentioned I don’t think her confirmation will be as consequential as people expect — it’s a change which will last far beyond the next election, presumably all the way until Justice Thomas retires or dies. I know lots of people who voted for Trump primarily because his Supreme Court picks would be better than Clinton’s, and who were overjoyed that he put in three justices. In the time between the death of Ruth Bader Ginsberg and the election their attitude seemed to be that losing the presidency and the Senate to get that final appointment was a trade they were more than willing to make (I definitely agree about the presidency, I’m less sure about the Senate). 

Of course all of this presumes that the Democrats don’t come along later and pack the court, or otherwise change the rules of game, but by keeping the Senate, that option is temporarily off the table, it’s like eating your cake and having it, and here we get the first example of where, at least from a certain perspective, moderation seems not to have been a virtue, certainly the moderate thing to do would have been to hold a hearing on Merrick Garland, and then, presumably the Democrats would have had no room (or at least less room) to object to the replacement of RBG by a more conservative justice. But for the moment it would appear, at least from the Republican perspective, that they were correct to not exercise moderation. That by being extreme they won. It is of course a whole other question whether the country is better off because of their relative extremism, certainly there’s a very good argument to be made that it’s not. Nevertheless we can at least begin to see (if we couldn’t already) the shape of an argument for extremism.

Rather than pick around the edges of this argument let’s go straight to what most people would agree is the clearest example of the benefits of extremism: World War II and in particular the fight against Nazi Germany. Much of Churchill’s deserved reputation is based on the fact that he didn’t have a moderate bone in his body, and during the darkest days of World War II when Britain stood entirely alone, he wouldn’t even consider some kind of peace deal, treaty or accommodation. On the other hand, one imagines that the Germans would have been better off with significantly less extremism, which is to say that Churchill’s extremism was mostly justified by Hitler’s extremism. And there are definitely some people who would argue that the extremism of turfing Garland and shoving through Barrett and before her, Brett Kavanaugh was justified by liberal extremism, like Roe v. Wade, the Bork nomination and Obergefell v. Hodges. And the fact that it was justified is why they weren’t punished for it, why the Republicans seem likely to hold on to the Senate. 

At this point all that’s clear is that much of the time moderation is better, but that sometimes things have gotten so bad that only extremism will save the day, but how do we know in advance which is which? I imagine Churchill would have answered that he didn’t, that it could have gone the other way, but that it didn’t matter because he was following correct principles. That he was determined to do the right thing regardless of the consequences. Of course saying that extremism is appropriate when it’s the right thing is just a tautology. If something is the right thing it’s always appropriate. But it also just moves the question deeper from a question of extremism vs. moderation to a question of right vs. wrong.

Questions of right and wrong automatically suggest morality, and from there it’s only a short trip to a discussion of religion. Many people argue that it is precisely the certainty of being right that makes religious extremism so prevalent. These same people often go on to point to the many harms committed in the name of religion, but at least with religion there exist comprehensive rules and commandments designed to carefully control what sort of extremism is and isn’t justified. Do these rules aways work? Are the commandments always followed? No. But I think it’s important to have some kind of measuring stick for determining when to seek a compromise and when to stand fast and refuse to retreat. And before we return to a discussion of the present political moment it might be useful to dig into what religion says about when to be extreme and when to be moderate. 

Obviously the first thing we need to do before we can proceed is select a scope for our inquiry, which is to say we need to choose which religions we’re going to examine. Obviously I have a bias towards Christianity, and an even more specific bias towards The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS), which is my own brand of Christianity, but given the foundational nature of Christianity to the West and its contribution to the West’s government and institutions I think it’s fair to restrict our inquiry to just Chrisitianity rather trying to be more comprehensive and make a broader survey that might include Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism and the rest. Beyond all of the foregoing I have an additional bias towards using Christianity because moderation holds such a prominent place in the doctrine. Yes there are times when extremism is urged, but what made Christianity revolutionary was how much it emphasized moderation, with injunctions about turning the other cheek, the critical importance of forgiveness and repentance and mercy, and even bits about separating religion from politics (particularly important in a day where politics increasingly is religion.) 

From this assumption of Christianity as somewhat foundational, I’m going to cut to the chase and condense two thousand years of history, commentary, and practice down into a single observation: when you’re talking about Christian-influenced Western Civ, moderation should be presumed to be the default. Moderation doesn’t need to be justified, it’s assumed to be the best course of action absent a compelling argument to the contrary, but rather it’s extremism which requires special justification. So when and under what circumstances is extremism justified? I think given the tenuous linkage of religion to politics and the aforementioned separation that it’s going to be easier to look at examples of extremism and ask whether they might be justified based on some interpretation of Western/Christian values than to work the other direction and create a set of rules that covers all eventualities.

The first consideration I want to deal with, since it’s already come up, is whether, in our examples, success should have any bearing on whether extremism is considered justified or not. If Trump had won instead of lost (or if he manages, improbably, to still pull out a win) there would be a lot of people celebrating his extremism rather than questioning it. As it was he certainly did better than most professional pollsters predicted. Does this mean that his extremism would have been wholly justified if he had won, but still partially when you consider the results? No, and I think this is where the benefits of drawing on an underlying foundation of religious principles comes in handy, because under that framework “winning” is not one of the acceptable justifications for extremism. To look at the example everyone agrees with, it’s clear that extremism in the war against the Nazis would have been justified even if we had lost. And lest there be any confusion I’m talking about refusing to surrender in the early years of the war, I’m not talking about extreme behavior. For example, I don’t think the fire-bombing of Dresden was justified even if the city was full of Nazis. (Which it wasn’t.)

Now Trump’s extremism might have been justified on other grounds, but it isn’t justified solely on the grounds of getting him what he wants. The ends he’s pursuing have to be justified, i.e. does a Trump victory save lives, prevent disaster or build a better future? Of course his supporters believe he is doing all of those things, and his opponents believe that he’s doing the opposite, and only time will tell who is correct, and I could imagine certain events over the next three years that would lead me to conclude that not only was Trump’s extremism justified but that he should have been even more extreme. Similarly I can imagine events that would lead me to believe that his extremism was incredibly harmful. But “time will tell” is different than, “well it succeeded didn’t it?”

Perhaps some people have been gifted with this certainty, through what that means I don’t know. To return to religion, it’s a least easier to imagine the gift of certainty coming from religious devotion, than coming from Trump, but perhaps those people convinced of the value of Trump’s extremism are just that smart. I am currently watching with rapt curiosity people who claim with exactly that level of certainty that Trump will serve a second term. Perhaps they will be correct, and then I’ll have some new mystery to ponder, but I suspect that they and actually most people who imagine they can predict the future will end up being wrong, and that this represents one of the great achievements of classical liberalism, this realization and the subsequent injection of doubt. This realization that if certainty is nearly impossible and extremism is only justified under such certainty, i.e. that moderation should be the default, is one of the most important intellectual developments of the modern age. 

This takes us back to the other example we gave of extremism succeeding, the Senate’s confirmation of three conservative justices, starting with refusing to hold a hearing for Merric Garland. Depending on your political leanings this is either an example of the worst political extremism in modern memory, of, “well it succeeded didn’t it?” or of “time will tell”. So far the answer is ambiguous. The court has yet to engage in much extremism itself, they have not overturned Roe v. Wade or done anything else the conservatives hoped for and the liberals feared. Meanwhile the whole process has definitely raised the temperature, and while it seems unlikely to result in an immediate reprisal from “the other side”, it certainly could. And here one can’t help but be reminded (if you weren’t already) of the Prisoner’s Dilemma

As I mentioned the last time it came up, if one conducts iterated games of Prisoner’s Dilemma some strategy of mostly cooperating ends up evolving to be the most successful one, with the caveat that constantly defecting can be surprisingly effective, particularly if the rest of the environment is composed of cooperators. At the time, I wondered if that’s what had happened to us. If we had reached a peak of cooperation and in doing so created an environment ripe for success by defectors. Certainly it seems that whatever the short term success of defecting that it leads to a longer term ratcheting effect that can’t help but end badly, even if you’re on the side doing all the defecting.

In this I’m also reminded of my discussion on the dichotomy between mercy and justice. Extremism seems to lend itself naturally to seeking justice, but is a poor fit if what we really need is more mercy, while the opposite could be said for moderation. And if, as I claimed, one of the problems currently plaguing us, is an overactive drive for justice, then this may explain as well the overabundance of extremism as well. This dynamic seems to be playing out in the immediate aftermath of the election. I have seen lots of people express a desire to be merciful in victory. Offering to accept Trump followers back into the fold so to speak (however condescending that my sound). This is oftentimes accompanied by calls for unity and healing. On the other hand, I will also say that I have seen what appears to be an equally large contingent of people arguing that what’s really needed is justice. That Trump and his supporters need to be punished, or at a minimum deprogrammed

These additional connections of moderation to mercy, of which we appear to be running an extreme deficit, and to winning the continual games of Prisoner’s Dilemma we seem to be playing, on top of moderation’s critical role in Western Liberalism and the religion that underpins it, convince me even more of the importance of considering moderation the default. But in such difficult times, when the opposite seems to be happening and extremism is everywhere we look, how do we achieve more moderation? I don’t know and despite growing recognition that more is needed we seem to continually end up with less and less as time goes on.

Here let me put in another brief plug for my preferred Presidential candidate: General James Mattis. The primary reason I decided to write him in was because it was low stakes, there was no chance writing him in would lead to the death of the Republic (and I made my argument at the time for why no other vote represented the salvation of the Republic.) But beyond how low risk it was, he reminds me of Eisenhower to a certain extent. The fact that both were generals is the obvious point of comparison, but the other less well known fact about Eisenhower is that he identified with neither party and the first time he voted it was for himself. He was so non-partisan in fact that the first person to reach out to him about running for President was Truman, who, incredibly, suggested Ike for President, while he would be vice-president.

Mattis is similarly non-partisan, and one imagines that if we’re really going to have a chance of bringing moderation to things that we need someone who hasn’t been fatally tarred by their deep association with one or the other camp. And while admittedly Mattis did serve under Trump, there appears to be no love lost between the two, with Trump blasting him as the “world’s most overrated general” recently after Mattis said he hopes that Biden pursues a foreign strategy that’s not “America First”. 

(As a brief aside, I myself think that we can’t remain the policemen of the world forever, and that Trump’s attempts to extract us from our various overseas commitments is a step in the right direction. That said, American hegemony is so critical to the peace we’ve enjoyed, that there is not only room for disagreement, but I could also certainly be persuaded that it would work better if it was more gradual with greater involvement from other nations.)

If I have any better ideas on how to achieve more moderation I’ll let you know, but beyond being out of ideas, I’m also out of space. When I started this post I had also intended to talk about environmental issues, x-risks and other issues where moderation appears to work worse than extremism, but those are big topics, so I’ll have to come back to them in a future post.


Sometimes things don’t come together in quite the way you hoped. Such was the case with this episode, and then the question becomes is it worth putting it out anyway? Can people listening to it still expect a positive return? I think so, and whether you feel that way about this episode, if you feel that my blog in general provides positive returns, consider donating.


Voting as a Proxy For Power

If you prefer to listen rather than read, this blog is available as a podcast here. Or if you want to listen to just this post:

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A week or so before the election I was listening to an episode of Radiolab, which began by introducing Rosa Brooks, a law professor at Georgetown, and someone who is, beyond that, very well connected in DC. The episode begins with Brooks telling the story of being at a dinner party sometime in 2019 (when people still had dinner parties) and posing a hypothetical to one of the other guests, “gosh, you know, what if Trump loses and he won’t step down…” The guest had a ready response, “oh, the military will never let that happen.” This answer surprised Brooks, though in turn I’m surprised that Brooks was surprised, I mean yes, I can understand how the exact mechanics of the military stopping things might be fuzzy, but it’s surprising that a DC insider, and someone, who in fact worked in the Department of Defense for several years, would be so ignorant of how power actually works.

To her credit, Brooks paid attention to the fact that she was confused, and decided to do something about her ignorance. She decided to war game the election. As it turns out this election was uncertain enough, that lots of people decided to do the same thing. You may have heard of Jeffrey Toobin’s fall from grace after he did something he shouldn’t have during a similar “election simulation”. (There are so many jokes that could be and have been made about this situation, but I will forebear.) In any case Brooks’ war games explored four different scenarios, one of which was an ambiguous result and other of which was a narrow Biden victory. Trump supporters seem to be acting as if it’s the first, when it seems pretty clear that it’s the second. Regardless it was while Brooks and the people she had assembled were working their way through the various scenarios that the answer the other dinner guest had offered finally played out:

The Joint Chiefs of Staff…sort of let it be known unofficially through leaks that they had decided that Biden was the legitimate winner and… that he was the guy who was getting the nuclear codes and so on. And that was the thing that proved decisive.

And so in that [scenario], Biden was eventually inaugurated. But in the [ambiguous scenario]… The partisans on both sides were still claiming victory, leading to the problem of two claims to commander in chief power, including access to the nuclear codes, at noon on January 20.

And it was left totally unclear what the military would do.

The possibility that at noon on the 20th, the Pentagon, the Joint Chiefs of Staff have to hand the nuclear codes to someone.

Who holds the nuclear codes? They can come in and take them from Trump and hand them to Biden. They can do nothing, which means Trump holds them. But it was sobering as a sort of a non-warmongering, peaceful American citizen to realize that it’s the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the military who will decide who the president is.

And that was both amazing and, also, as a strategist – oh, well, then we got to work the military. Those are the refs, and you got to work the refs.

To generalize those conclusions, when everything is stripped away, things are decided by force. The referee is always, when all is said and done, those who have the guns (and the tanks and the nuclear missiles). These rules are unsurprising to anyone who’s even remotely familiar with libertarian thinking, where the central tenant is that all laws are eventually enforced at the point of a gun or historically at the edge of a sword. This is especially the case when you’re talking about who is going to rule an entire country, which is to say who is going to have a monopoly on the use of that force. As Brooks herself was eventually forced to admit at the end of her war games, “I think we collectively put a little too much faith in the law and in institutions as if they exist outside of politics and power, but they don’t.” 

None of this is to say that we haven’t made progress, or that things aren’t better, in fact they’re so much better that people like Brooks, despite their education and experience, have essentially forgotten the fundamental rules, because these rules haven’t been necessary since the Civil War (more or less). Despite how long ago that was, I think the distance we’ve actually travelled is less than people think. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that recently we have reversed course and we’ve been moving closer to the time when those fundamental rules will come into play.

This is not the venue for detouring into a huge discussion of history, but in the pre-democractic era, when power changed hands in a country, the person who ended up with the power was generally the one with the biggest and most powerful army, and if there was some doubt then armies would engage in the true test of power and fight. Of course all of this fighting and uncertainty over the transfer of power wasn’t good for the country and so various methods were arrived at to transfer power peacefully: laws, assemblies, and of course the idea that power could be inherited and passing it from father to son. But in a sense this just made the person who could draw on these various customs, laws and traditions more likely to have the biggest army because those things made power easier to call upon.

Eventually, of course, we arrived at a democratic system. Most people understand that a democracy is supposed to work under the idea that the course favored by the majority of the citizens is more likely to be the right one, but it’s also a way of tallying up the size of each side’s army. Of reminding those vying for power that it’s best to stick with a peaceful transition of power, because, when they’re voted out of power, it was in consequence of the other side having a bigger “army”. So resisting that transfer is less likely to succeed, it’s already been demonstrated that you have the smaller “army”. Obviously this is overly simplistic, both because there’s a lot more that goes into an “army’s” power than the number of people in it, and also because people are not the only source of power. But it has the advantage of being simple, reflecting something real, and being tied into larger principles of civic duty, participation and decision making. 

All of this takes us to the current situation, which is no longer a war game, but a battle which is really happening, and in essence Trump supporters are claiming that they had the bigger army, but that the Deep State used their other forms of power to deny them the victory that was rightfully theirs. But isn’t that precisely what a battle is? Two sides bringing their power to bear, with the one who brings the greater power to bear winning?

To put it more concretely there are basically three options:

  1. The election was broadly legitimate. There might be some fraud, but if so we’re looking at something on the order of a few ballots here, or a few ballots there. Nothing even close to the 14,000 ballots which would be needed to tip even Georgia, which has the narrowest margin. And even if Trump could prevail there that would just make the race 290 to 248. Trump would need at least two other states on top of that to actually win the election. Two states where the gaps are even larger.
  2. The election was stolen by the Deep State. Either through some massive, unheard of level of fraud or through actually messing with counts at the level of the voting machines. The battle was joined and the anti-Trump forces were able to bring a huge amount of power to bear and quite frankly whether they beat Trump fairly with votes, or unfairly with power that Trump and his followers couldn’t match, they won, it’s over. And in the final analysis it doesn’t matter if the war was fought in the manner Trump supporters expected or if it was fought with dirty underhanded tactics they never saw coming. The war is over and Trump and his supporters have lost.
  3. The same as 2, but Trump and his supporters have power of their own, that they are in the process of bringing to bear. The power of being on the right side of the law, because there really was massive fraud. Or the power of a 6-3 Supreme Court which will eventually rule in Trump’s favor despite the prima facie vote totals. Or the power of the military, who, when January 20th rolls around, won’t take away the nuclear codes. Or we’ll find out that there’s enough hardcore Trump supporters in the military that there will be a bona fide violent coup. Or the power of a violent and bloody revolution, with armed Trump supporters (of which there are many) rising up and storming the Bastille. 

To be clear, I have seen very little evidence that it’s not option 1 (I’ll get to the “very little” part of that in a minute.) Because of this I’m very confident that it is option 1, I don’t think there’s some massive coverup, some huge source of undetected fraud. I do think that the mail in balloting which was implemented in response to COVID which was always going to result in the slow counting of urban ballots which were, additionally, always going to be heavily Democratic, happened at the worst possible time. That it provided fertile soil for people to plant conspiracies in. But not only do I not believe any of the election related conspiracies, even if I did, I still think it would be best to ignore them. Which brings us to option 2. What I’m trying to get across by having you consider this option is that once you start from the premise that the election was stolen (which by the way is a significant filter that will distort all subsequent reasoning) then you have already admitted that we’re not playing the game of “count the legitimate votes”, we’re playing the game of “exercise power in whatever way you can” and if that’s the game we’re playing you’ve not only lost, you’ve lost so comprehensively, that continuing to play the 2020 round of the game is only going to make you look foolish. That you should regroup, realize how inadequate your own power has been and start preparing for the 2024 round of the game.

Now I understand that, despite labelling it as a game, that this is a dark view of the world and to reiterate, it’s not my view, I’m just saying that once you’ve accepted that view, then you’ve ceased to think of the election as the legitimate and law-abiding counting of votes, and you’ve moved to thinking of it as an exercise of raw power, and my point is, that even reframing it in this way, you’ve still lost. But perhaps this part of the post is unnecessary, you’re already comfortable with the idea that we’ve moved into the realm of raw power, you just think that whatever power the anti-trump forces have mustered, the pro-trump forces can match. Which takes us to option 3, and the various ways the pro-trump side might exercise their power, given that this is the game you’ve decided we’re playing. I already listed several, let’s go through them in more detail:

The power of the law: This is what Trump’s defender’s claim that he’s doing. I personally think that he has moved beyond this, but we’ll start here. First as I already mentioned Trump has to change the results in three of the close states, and his arguments for doing it in even one are extremely tenuous. I went to a friend of mine who’s very intelligent, and who has a far greater tolerance for conspiracies than I do. (As a side note I’ve gotten far more benefit out of respectfully engaging with this friend than I ever would have by dismissing him.) And I asked him for the single most compelling evidence of fraud he had come across. He gave me a few, and so I looked into them. At first glance they were all pretty compelling, but after digging in deeper, (see the afterword for a dissection of one of them) none of them represented the kind of clear evidentiary smoking gun necessary for courts — which by the way should be less susceptible to accusations of bias having recently received an influx of Trump appointees — to exercise enough power to overturn the results of the election in three different states. 

Mechanically, it’s not even entirely clear what Trump supporters imagine is going to happen.  A full audit of results would be ideal, but so far unless I missed something that’s only taking place in Georgia. And I am willing to bet substantial real money, at favorable odds to whoever takes me up on it, that this audit will not change the results of Georgia. But even if it did that wouldn’t change the results of the election. Also even if people wanted to do audits in all the states that are close, we’re running out of time. Recall that in Bush v. Gore the decision came down to the idea that they couldn’t do a full recount in Florida in the time remaining. That was one state where only a few hundred votes separated the candidates, here we’re talking about thousands of votes across a minimum of three different states. Though, speaking of Bush v. Gore, that takes us to the next form of power the Republican’s might be able to exercise:

The power of the Supreme Court: These options are basically in order of how damaging they would be to the long term civic health of the country, and mostly that maps to their probability as well, but not in this case. The idea that the Supreme Court, because of its conservative majority, would hand Trump the election, given the evidence as it currently stands, is insane. There is zero chance of it happening, even more so after the lukewarm reception the justices gave to the recent Obamacare case

A decision by the military: I’m trying to be somewhat comprehensive here and as one of the war games I mentioned in the beginning was finally resolved by the Joint Chiefs using back channels to indicate their support, I thought I should cover that option, but it seems even more disruptive and more improbable than the Supreme Court deciding the election. I know that there’s a common perception that the military is strongly Republican, but a quick review of recent stories on the subject seem to indicate that this is not the case with Trump, and I see no reason to suspect that it’s different at the highest levels. In the situation we’re in, I agree we may see exactly the scenario mentioned in the war game played out. And by “exactly” I mean we may see backchannel support for Biden. We won’t see it for Trump.

An actual military coup: Of course historically, those times when a country’s military decided to intervene in an election generally took a more dramatic form than subtly making it know who the next leader should be. Typically, if the military intervenes in the transfer it’s to seize power through the use of force and at the point of the sword. This is another thing which is incredibly unlikely to happen in 2020 as a way of Trump “winning” the election. But as an option it’s always going to be lurking in the background because as I’ve been trying to explain, power is ultimately implemented through force, and there is a lot of force in the military.

The power of a popular uprising: It seems clear that Trump is already trying to access this power, and while I don’t see too many problems with him doing that if it just takes the form of some peaceful protests like the Million MAGA March that happened over the weekend (what’s good for the goose, and so on), there’s a very fine line between 1st Amendment Freedom of assembly and violence. Also as I have repeatedly urged people to consider, “What if you’re wrong?” What if you rise up in anger over a fraudulent election and it wasn’t? What if you’ve been misled? And even if you’re 100% sure you’re right, not only is this exercise of power fraught with danger for the country, it’s also unlikely to go the way you expect. To use a quote I’ve used several times before in this space, from a post by David Hines:

Political violence is like war, like violence in general: people have a fantasy about how it works.

This is the fantasy of how violence works: you smite your enemies in a grand and glorious cleansing because of course you’re better.

Grand and glorious smiting isn’t actually how violence works…

I’ve worked a few places that have had serious political violence. And I’m not sure how to really describe it so people get it.

This is a stupid comparison, but here: imagine that one day Godzilla walks through your town.

The next day, he does it again.

And he keeps doing it. Some days he steps on more people than others. That’s it. That’s all he does: trudging through your town, back and forth. Your town’s not your town now; it’s The Godzilla Trudging Zone.

That’s kind of what it’s like.

Everyone imagines that they will rise up in a grand and glorious smiting, but that’s never how it works. Let me repeat: that’s NEVER how it works. As a consequence of this mismatch between expectations and reality, everyone vastly underestimates the value of stability. And here I’m going to lay my cards on the table. I’m a huge fan of stability. Which is to say at this point even if I was convinced that the election had been stolen on behalf of Biden (I don’t think Biden himself is capable of stealing it) and even if Trump was and will be every amazing thing his supporters claim. It would not be worth taking up arms. It would not be worth a violent insurrection. It would not be worth bloodshed. 

I think it’s clear from my record that I am not an apologist for the left or the Democrats. Headlines like “Biden Fills Economic Posts With Experts on Systemic Racism“ fill me with unease. But discrediting and denying the results of the 2020 election is not the place to have the ideological fight. Whether through legitimate voting (by far the most likely scenario) or through an enormous exercise of vast and unmatched conspiratorial power, Biden won. And the longer it takes people to admit that and the more they fight that the greater chance there will be that we’ll all end up losing.


I’m trying something new, adding a brief appendix/afterword. Let me know what you think. If you like it (or anything I’ve written) the easiest way to show it is by donating. Even if you hate it, I think you’ll have to admit that softening the criticism with money is the right thing to do.

Afterword

First I’d like to refer you back to my deep dive on the ADL’s numbers on extremism for a reminder that going deep into something is rarely as productive as one might hope. It can take an enormous amount of time to verify even one claim and I think at this point there are thousands. Still, it’s a useful exercise.

In looking through the claims my friend sent me, the one that jumped out as both incredibly damning if true, but easy to verify was one that said that in Georgia, on those ballots where people only voted for the president (and presumably no one else) those ballots went 818 for Trump and 95,801 for Biden. While those ballots which had votes for more than just the president went 2,456,915 for Trump and 2,376,081 for Biden. You can see an example of this on twitter here, and Donald Trump Jr. retweeting it here

Well the first question is why would people go to the effort of creating approximating 95,000 votes for Biden, and not also create 95,000 votes for the two Democratic senate candidates in Georgia. Arguably when it comes to frustrating the Democrats, particularly over the long-term, Mitch McConnell and his Senate majority have been far more effective than Trump. Did the conspirators think that they had the Senate locked up but they needed all the help they could get when it came to Trump?

The next obvious question would be whether there are even 95,000 more votes in the Presidential vote pool than in any of the other pools. Taking the Ossoff-Perdue race (this will be important later) we find that there were a total of 4,945,704 votes, and in the Trump Biden race there were 4,992,004, for a difference of 46,300. Only half the number required for just the math to check out. (The numbers are from Fox News and include third party candidates.) But of course the question is where are these numbers coming from in the first place? Is there some official site I can look at? Some dusty corner of the Georgia state election office where I can find the paperwork? 

Nope, the data the person making the claim is relying on, is right out there on every election website. It’s all based on the fact that Biden received 99,922 more votes than Ossoff and Trump received 785 votes less than Purdue. I’m going to assume that it was 95,801 and positive 818 respectively at the time the information began spreading, and that the late arriving votes which skewed Democratic are what moved it into the current position. So, in the end, I guess the mistake is not realizing that people don’t have to vote straight party?  

Fortunately, this time around, the explanation was straight forward. It didn’t reflect anything extraordinary, and there’s no reason to suspect shenanigans. In fact when it comes down to it, it’s kind of embarrassing for the people making the claim once you realize what they’re doing. But at first glance it was something that seemed really damning. If anyone out there still thinks they have some smoking gun, let me know, I don’t have time to look into everything, but I’d be happy to look into something else you think it’s particularly convincing.


Books I Finished in October

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October definitely felt like the calm before the storm. COVID numbers were rising everywhere, but with death’s lagging (and apparently a lower CFR in general) it was still possible to think that we could get through it without doing anything extraordinary. But as the numbers continued to remain high it became more and more apparent that something major would happen. Hospitals would eventually fill up, laws would be passed, things would close back down, etc. 

And as if that weren’t bad enough there’s the election. I have obviously said quite a bit about it already, and I suspect following the “there’s a great deal of ruin in a nation” maxim that we still have quite a bit of ruin left before things get truly apocalyptic (though I also think we’re still on a course towards that which is going to be hard to reverse) but our “ruin reserve”, even if it exists, doesn’t preclude all manner of short term black swans which could end up haunting our lives for quite a while. And the election certainly falls into the category of a short term black swan.

The former two paragraphs were written before election day, and since this is being posted after the election I thought I’d slip in my initial reaction to the last few days:

Even if Biden ends up winning, once again the polls and projections were very misleading. Note I didn’t say wrong. Perhaps when all is said and done, they will have been less wrong than they were in 2016. But just like 2016 I doubt that anyone will remember that “National polls ended up falling within the margin of error” when they remember 2020. And what will be even more memorable (or damning if you prefer) is the fact that both times they were wrong in the same direction.

The clearest example so far is Florida, 538 gave Biden a 69% chance of winning Florida with an expected 2.5% margin. In the end Trump won it by 3.3% and it’s not like Florida was sparsely polled or that no one paid attention to it. Also, remember that if the bias was random then in theory it should have been possible for it to have been wrong in either direction. Conceivably if Trump can win it by 3.3% then Biden could have won it by 5.8% and the whole thing would have been over by 9 pm on election night. 

I think from the perspective of healing the nation and unifying the country we ended up with the worst possible outcome, a narrow one… And this is part of why I’m so annoyed at the polls. Once again we were promised a potential blow-out, something way more certain than 2016, and in fact the uncertainty people expressed in 2020 mostly only came about because they were so wrong in 2016. One imagines that If we hadn’t had the huge mistakes of 2016 to teach pollsters humility, the predictions about 2020 would have been even more fantastically wrong. As it was they were merely about same amount wrong as they were in 2016 and in the same direction. All of which feeds into the general impression held by Trump supporters that the system is rigged, which is one part of the fuel feeding the fire which is gradually consuming us.


I- Eschatological Reviews

Scale: The Universal Laws of Growth, Innovation, Sustainability, and the Pace of Life in Organisms, Cities, Economies, and Companies

By: Geoffrey West

482 Pages

Who should read this book?

I’ve tried to be better recently about taking notes, and tagging them into categories for later retrieval. One of my categories is “This Explains Everything” which I apply to books and other theories which seek to explain why the world is the way it is. This is one of those books, and if you’re looking for grand theories, and in this case even math, which can be used to explain the world, this is a great book for that. West does an admirable job of connecting biological rules for scaling, which were interesting all on their own, to a large number of things, including, most notably, cities and companies.

General Thoughts

I had really hoped that as part of his discussion of scale that he would end up explaining how scaling works with respect to nations and governments. Give something of a mathematical basis for the principle of subsidiarity, or at least some analysis of what the tradeoffs are between larger and smaller governments. Unfortunately the book did not end up going in this direction, which was too bad. I think it was a missed opportunity. That said it was still pretty thought provoking. To begin with here are some interesting bits of trivia that I thought were worth passing along:

  • Once the generalized growth of the entire market is factored out (which I assume is different than inflation) all large mature companies have stopped growing. (Understandably “mature” is doing a lot of work in that sentence.)
  • History is full of examples where someone successfully tweaked something by 5% in some direction. And also numerous examples of where they tried to change it by 30% or 40% and it ended in disaster.
  • On average our bodies go through 170 lbs of ATP every day. Obviously it’s not all in existence at the same time.
  • For those people interested in immortality, it should be noted that entirely eliminating heart disease would only increase average life expectancy by six years, and entirely eliminating cancer would only increase it by three.
  • Unlike animals, companies, and countries, cities apparently last forever.
  • Following from that last point, it’s interesting to speculate if the combination of the internet, virtual meetings and COVID might finally put an end to that. Certainly James Altucher has argued that New York is done. As they say, “Big if true.”

Finally, something that requires a little bit of backstory. A month or so ago I was listening to an episode of the Podcast Radiolab that was all about fungal infections, and as part of the discussion they brought up that fungi can’t stand heat, so one huge advantage mammals have, dating back all the way to the mass extinction of the dinosaurs, is that being warm-blooded makes them mostly immune to fungal infections. But obviously maintaining a temperature higher than that of your surroundings requires calories, accordingly it would be inefficient to maintain a higher core temperature than was necessary. And so some scientists ran the numbers looking for the sweet spot where calories were minimized and fungal protection was maximized and found out that the perfect balance was… wait for it… 98.6 degrees! Which honestly seems too good to be true and I want to dig into that some more before I fully believe it, but then, in this book, West mentions that If our body temperature was cooler we’d live longer, which tied into his discussion about life spans (and relates to scale because bigger mammals live longer). 

As an inveterate pessimist, I can just imagine that one of the things people will try to do to extend life spans is reduce body temperature, either unaware of the danger from fungi, or thinking that the danger is manageable, and indeed whether it’s related to human intervention or not, our average temperature has been falling for quite awhile. This has recently led to a big increase in fungal infections, which was one of the main points of the Radiolab episode.

Eschatological Implications

Like many of the books I review this book ended up making some predictions about the future. As I already mentioned West contends that cities don’t die, and that as they grow bigger they bring numerous advantages. Particularly in the realm of innovation. But they also bring about various disadvantages. Innovation comes with a cost. Some of these costs appear relatively mild, like an increased pace of life, or lowered trust among members of the community. Others are obviously bad, like an increase in crime. But increasingly even those costs which appear to be mild initially, are blamed for causing a greater and greater share of the ills of the world. In fact it might even be argued that the internet could be viewed as something of a giant city, with yes, far greater innovation, but also much lower trust, higher crime and something which results, inevitably, in lives which are ever more frenetic. To put things in more general terms, it’s unclear whether the advantages “scale” faster than the disadvantages, nor is there any reason why they necessarily should.

At the same time I was reading this book I was working through a long essay on cultural evolution. The first full post from Sachin Maini’s newsletter Living Ideas. And it provided an interesting counterpoint to some of the points being made by Scale. Maini’s post was all about the importance of cultural evolution, going back tens of thousands of years. And in essence, when West is talking about innovation he’s talking about speeding up cultural evolution. But as I pointed out, the last time I discussed the rate of cultural evolution, greater speed, particularly if it’s coupled with greater conformity, is not necessarily a good thing. Maini pointed out that if you have too few people collaborating you can end up with negative innovation. That you can actually go backwards as was the case with the Tasmanians. West examines what happens if you just keep increasing the number of people collaborating and the speed at which they can do so.

On the one hand if things go well, then the terminal point would appear to be something similar to what was described by Robin Hanson in his book  The Age of Em. Where sped up emulated minds cluster in server-farm cities and experience hundreds of years for every actual year. Or in other words taking the features and advantages of a city and scaling them up essentially to infinity. On the other hand, things don’t actually scale to infinity very well. Generally they hit some sort of bottleneck. West recognizes this (and in fact frequently mentions Malthus in this context) and posits that the bottleneck might be energy, and as I’ve pointed out, our energy usage can’t scale exponentially forever. But these days it seems more likely that it might be trust, or social cohesion, or some other thing that gets worse as the environment for innovation gets better. 

In the end, one of the central themes of the book is that when it comes to biology there are limits to how big things can get. Presumably, over the billions of years life has been evolving, bigger things have been “tried” only to eventually fail. Presumably something similar might also be true with respect to cultural evolution, that things can only get so big, or so fast, or so connected. I guess we’ll find out.


II- Capsule Reviews

From the Ruins of Empire: The Revolt Against the West and the Remaking of Asia

By: Pankaj Mishra

356 Pages

Who should read this book?

It is said that history is written by the victors, this book attempts to reverse that trend, and tell the history of the Middle and Far East from the perspective of those who were colonized and humiliated by the West, particularly in the 19th century. If that sounds appealing this is a pretty good book.

General Thoughts

I always had a sense that the 1905 Battle of Tsushima, in which the Japanese fleet all but obliterated the Russian fleet, was a big deal, but I confess I had always viewed it from a Western perspective. As a demonstration of the decline and decadence of Russia rather than the arrival of Japan. Of course I have the benefit of knowing how well the Japanese navy fought in World War II, so the idea that they might come off the victor in a naval battle a few decades before that doesn’t seem particularly surprising. And, I also know what happened to Russian in World War I, so their defeat a few years beforehand is also unsurprising. Finally, I’ve always felt that there’s something darkly comic about the Russian Fleet travelling 18,000 nautical miles only to suffer one of the worst losses in the history of naval warfare. An outcome that seems all but foreordained to anyone familiar with Murphy’s Law. In any case, however it was viewed by me or the larger Western world it was a very big deal in the East, and Mishra uses it to open the book. Claiming that it was the first time the many countries subject to European colonization and domination thought that they might be able to throw off their yoke. That this battle marks the start of the East asserting itself and stepping into the modern world.

In using the phrase “stepping into the modern world” I am aware that I’m over-simplifying a very complex project and doing so from essentially a Western point of view. What constitutes the modern world? Is that what the people in the book were trying to do? (Certainly it wasn’t really Gandhi’s goal.) Is the modern world inherently a secular one? Does it have to take the same form it does in the west, i.e. liberal democracy in the mold of what Fukuyama keeps talking about? Etc. To be fair the book does lend support to Fukuyama’s idea about it being necessary to wage modern war. But it also lends support to the idea that people in the East were also trying to do something different and better. 

It’s clear that they were envious for a very long time of Western technology and military prowess, and most of the people Mishra profiles start off wanting to emulate the enlightenment, but eventually, and without exception, at some point they all end up talking about the moral bankruptcy of the West, and it’s lack of spirituality. In other words the history Misthra tells contains numerous intellectual currents and inevitably lots of contradictions, some of which he acknowledges and some of which he seems to ignore.

As a more concrete example the book is full of references to racism, from mentions of social darwinism, to the perpetual feelings of superiority possessed by the white Europeans, to efforts by the countries discussed to enshrine racial equality, the most famous of which is Japan’s efforts to get it included in the charter of the League of Nations. But while Mishra wants to make it look like the Japanese and others were way ahead of the curve on anti-racism, the events of World War II (and even these countries current policy on immigration) would show that the nations of the east could be and were just as racist as the Europeans, and arguably, particularly at this point, moreso. 

As a final note, this is not the only way that the book goes too far in it’s Eastern apologetics. Arguably the most glaring oversights in the book are the Taiping Rebellion, a Chinese civil war that happened at around the same time as the US Civil War in which 20-30 million people died, which rates just a sentence in the book. And the Armenian Genocide, which also get’s just one sentence and is described in the book merely as “an act that later invited accusations of genocide”. 

It’s important to read things from the “other side” of history, but finding something truly unbiased is really hard. 


Just Like You

By: Nick Hornby

368 Pages

Who should read this book?

People who like Nick Hornby? I wouldn’t start with this book if it’s going to be your first by him, but if you’ve read other stuff by Hornby and enjoyed it you’ll probably enjoy this one.

General Thoughts

This is the fifth Nick Hornby book I’ve read, and there’s a reason that they keep getting made into movies. He’s a great writer who tells engaging stories. This book was no exception, though it had one big issue. It was trying very hard to be socially conscious, and dare I say, politically correct, perhaps even woke? Now this is not a bad thing, it is in fact one of the great things literature can do, but particularly when you’re writing about something so current, there’s a real danger of laying it on to thick, and in Just Like You it felt like the politically progressive angle was always right on the edge of overwhelming the story. And probably actually crossed over the edge on a few occasions. Even if you were to end up disagreeing with me on this, at a bare minimum I still think you would find it to be distracting.

To give you just a brief taste of what I mean, it’s about a romance between an older educated white woman, and a young black man with dreams of being a DJ. It includes racial profiling by police, ackward dinner parties where the idea of “privledge” is front and center, and if all that wasn’t enough, the whole thing takes place in the shadow of Brexit, which ends up being almost as important to the plot as the romance itself.


Seven Types of Atheism

By: John N. Gray

170 Pages

Who should read this book?

I think anyone interested in atheism, either as an opponent or a practitioner would find this book to be very useful. In particular just knowing that the militant new atheism that has gotten the most attention recently is just one type out of seven proves to be very illuminating.

General Thoughts

As I was getting ready to write this review I checked over at Goodreads to see what others had said about it. One of the reviewers mentioned that he had the sneaking suspicion that Gray wrote the book “entirely out of irritation with the ‘New Atheists’.” Which is the impression I got as well. Not only does he lead with that version of atheism, but he draws attention to the fact that once he’s done talking about it, he’s never going to mention it again.

Lest the new atheists feel uniquely targeted, Gray goes on to mention that he disagrees with the first five of the the seven types he covers, and he labels these five as negative atheism, only being partial to the last two, which he defines as positive atheism. It’s interesting that he should single out the last two, because while all seven categories have significant overlap, and some fuzziness in how they’re defined, the last two are the worst of all. In part this comes from Gray’s definition of an atheist: 

Anyone with no use for the idea of a divine mind that has fashioned the world.

This definition admits the possibility of something supernatural but less focused and with no intentionality. And of course this could end up resulting in some very fuzzy atheism, but it still feels odd to me that some of the types should be so difficult to pin down, particularly since most atheists (as far as I can tell) gravitate to it because they feel it simplifies things, but the types of atheism Gray is most drawn to are the ones which end up being the most complicated. Which takes us to a brief description of each the seven types: 

  1. New Atheism: Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, the late Christopher Hitchens, etc. Basically the people who think religion sucks and is a relic of a primitive past.
  2. Secular Humanism: Gray makes the point that this form of atheism is almost entirely reliant on Christian morality, and as a result has a hard time justifying its morality without that foundation.
  3. Faith in Science: Gray mostly brings up stuff like eugenics to show that science frequently or perhaps mostly doesn’t deserve our faith. 
  4. Modern Political Religions: Think communism, nazis, etc. I assume that atheists don’t like being lumped in with nazis even if communism was explicitly atheistic, but what Gray mostly seems to be talking about is substituting politics for religion, which is a caution more people might need to hear these days.
  5. God-Haters: Certainly there are people who are outright nihilists who hate the world, who think that freedom is a curse, etc. But they’re pretty rare. Still it’s totally fair to include them as a type, but their importance and numbers should not be overstated
  6. Atheism without progress: As I said this one was kind of fuzzy. He seemed to be talking about religion as a valuable social construct, even if there is no “divine mind”, an opinion I can definitely get behind, but he also seemed to be saying that if you assume that there is some sort of implacable drive for progress, some utopia we’ll eventually reach, that you can’t be this type of atheist… 
  7. Mystical Atheism? (which is my title, he labeled this type “The Atheism of Silence”): Again the exact specifics were fuzzy, but he includes in this category Spinozian pantheism (God is the sum total of everything in existence.) And I guess he would probably include James Lovelock’s Gaia Hypothesis in here as well? 

Why Not Parliamentarism? 

By: Tiago Ribeiro dos Santos

146 Pages

Who should read this book?

Really hardcore political science junkies. I mean really hardcore.

General Thoughts

This book makes the case for the superiority of parliamentary forms of democracy over presidential ones. Which seems particularly appropriate right at the moment. In fact I think it’s an idea I’d like to spend a whole post on, not that I think that there’s any chance of the US transitioning to a parliamentary system, at least not without something truly unprecedented happening, but as part of a general overview of different potential political systems which might be better than the chaos we’re experiencing I think tossing it into the discussion could be very interesting. 

As far as this book goes, I think I would have enjoyed it more if it had been less technical and data heavy and more philosophical. Obviously data is nice, and he makes a pretty strong case that parliamentary systems achieve better outcomes, but the problem with this approach is twofold. First we shouldn’t kid ourselves that we have anywhere near a sufficient amount of data to make some kind of firm evidentiary claim. Dos Santos hasn’t proved anything, he’s just suggested a lot of possible connections. Second, any potential shift is not going to be accomplished because people have looked at a bunch of numbers, it’s going to happen when they sense that a parliamentary system is the answer to the problems they’re having. Consequently he could have done with a lot more real world examples. Like, under a parliamentary system this person probably wouldn’t have been the leader, or they wouldn’t have been able to do this thing you didn’t like, or, speaking to the present moment, this election would have been far less chaotic.


An Instinct for Dragons 

By: David E. Jones

188 Pages

Who should read this book?

If an examination of why dragons are present in every culture sounds appealing, or if you’re otherwise into cryptozoology, you’ll probably enjoy this book.

General Thoughts

As just mentioned this book is all about answering the question of why dragons appear in every culture no matter how much time and space separates them. The answer to the question is given fairly early on, and then the rest of the book is spent defending that answer, so it’s not much of a spoiler to reveal it. Essentially Jones hypothesizes that the dragon is a composite of the three major predators early hominids and primates had to deal with, namely raptors, snakes and big cats. 

The idea is fairly interesting, but Jones takes a strange path with it, at times being very mythic and at times very scientific, though seemingly refusing to go too far in either direction. On the mythic side he gets positively jungian in drawing on the collective unconscious, and also includes relatively modern accounts of giant sea serpents, but if he wanted to go full mythic he could have used such accounts and the many others out there to claim they actually existed. It’s probably good that he didn’t make such a claim, but he gets pretty close.

On the scientific side Jones brings in studies of infant and primate fear responses to buttress his claims for the primacy of the three predators that form the basis of his theory. He further attempts to pull in various neurological concepts to explain the space saving measures which lead to the three predators being collapsed into one. But then the next logical step would seem to be showing pictures of dragons to babies, apes and monkeys to see if they exhibited the same fear response to the dragon as they did to the other predators. And perhaps he didn’t have the money to do his own research, or perhaps it would be difficult to do the experiment using just pictures, but it feels like he could have done a lot more to test his hypothesis.

Beyond all of the above I had a couple of other issues. First, he didn’t spend very much effort at all rebutting the theory that dinosaur bones provided the basis for legends about dragons. He was aware of it, and it was mentioned in the book, but the few times it came up Jones was pretty dismissive. Second he put a lot of effort into showing that dragons were ubiquitous in both time and space, but then does very little with how the dragon is portrayed today, the huge volume of fantasy literature, or the vast popularity of the the game Dungeons and Dragons (of which I myself am a partaker). 

It was a very interesting premise, but the execution could have been a lot better.


Aristophanes: The Complete Plays 

By: Aristophanes Translated by: Paul Roche

716 Pages

Who should read this book?

This was next on the list of great books I’ve been working through. If you have a similar list it might be next on your list as well. I will say that I’m less of a fan of Aristophanes than I have been of previous authors. But I’ll get to that.

General Thoughts

In deciding what classic books to read I’ve been following the Harold Bloom list from the Western Canon. It has never been my intention to read everything on the list, (the man was an classics machine) and as such I didn’t read every extant play, as I had with the tragedies, but rather just the ones on the list: 

The Birds; The Clouds; The Frogs; Lysistrata; The Knights; The Wasps; The Assemblywomen.

In part this is because I realized that I’m going to die long before I finish if I don’t pick up the past a bit, and in part this is because I just don’t like the comedies as much. At least for me the tragedies seem timeless while the comedies seem very specific to a certain place and time, with most humor either being so foreign as to be of only academic interest or alternatively, the kind of thing you might hear in a junior high locker room. (I lost count of the number of jokes about erections, homosexuality and defecation.) To be clear it was fascinating to see how many of these jokes there were, and I really appreciated this translation, which went out of it’s way to clearly present these jokes but also to put them in the common vernacular (there were many f-bombs as they say). 

As far as whether you should read them, I think I have a much clearer picture of ancient Athens, which is good. But on the other hand, I can’t really say I liked any of these plays.


Battle Ground: Dresden Files, Book 17

By: Jim Butcher

432 Pages

Who should read this book?

You might recall that I read the book just before this one in the series back in August. And I mentioned that I couldn’t imagine that you would read it if you hadn’t read the previous 15. That statement is even more true because now there’s 16 previous books, and this book is essentially part 2 of Peace Talks, the book I read in August. 

General Thoughts

As I read this book I think I hit on why I find the series increasingly annoying. It’s very melodramatic, and my sense is that the melodrama has increasingly crowded out the humor that used to be a hallmark of the series. Which is not to say that he doesn’t still include some bits of humor, but they often fall flat because they end up being surrounded by ponderous statements, about the stakes of the conflict, the tragedy of the deaths, or the courageous sacrifice someone just made. And all of it delivered (and this may be a problem unique to the audiobook) with a grave and overwrought sentimentality. On top of that, or perhaps because of it, I find that I like Harry Dresden less and less. He’s always been hard-headed, but as time goes on it seems less rational and more just a way of making circumstances within the book more difficult and annoying.

As a result of this I very nearly put the book down (metaphorically, as I said I was listening to the audio version). But part of me didn’t want to get into the habit of stopping books (which ended up happening last month, though in reality I probably should do a lot more of it) and part of me did want to know what was going to happen. In the end I was glad I continued, the coolest part came right after the moment I most seriously considered stopping, and it redeemed the book. But I don’t know that it redeemed the series. I suspect this will be the last Dresden book I read. 


It may be the last Dresden book I read, but it certainly won’t be the last book I read. I’m going to keep reading and keep reviewing, and if you appreciate it, consider donating. Or just drop me a line at wearenotsaved [at] gmail [dot] com.