The Missing Piece of the Present Moment Is Religion (But Not in the Way You Think)

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I.

This post is a continuation of the last post, but it’s okay if you came straight here without reading my previous post. When you’re writing you always have a destination in mind, and sometimes that destination seems pretty close, and you figure you have time to take a detour, so when you pass a sign that says, “World’s Largest Ball of Twine! 25 miles!” You think, “Sure we have time to go see that,” but the next thing you know you’ve not only spent hours traveling back roads, but you’re deep into the competing claims over which ball of twine really is the biggest, and you decide to travel to all of them, and… Well you get the picture. 

With that introduction, if you understandably decide not to go back and read the last post, here is a distillation of the three claims I made: 

  1. Uniting large groups of people is very difficult, and it’s a project that ultimately comes down to your foundational epistemology. How does a system construct the truth which goes on to inform its policies?
  2. When looking at these foundational epistemologies technocrats would seem to have an edge because in theory they arrive at the truth, they don’t construct it. But not only does their method have some notable blind spots, it’s also not very good at uniting the masses. It may, in fact, have the opposite effect. 
  3. Religion is something that is both very good at constructing a truth framework and uniting people, and that is what we used to have in this country in the form of a patriotic civic religion, but that recently we had abandoned it, and the hole left by its absence is large contributing factor in the current unrest. 

To give you an example of what I mean here, let’s take something smaller than an entire theory of government. The above is also essentially the point I’ve been making when it comes to the Modern Monetary Theory (MMT), the alternative macroeconomic theory that’s been much discussed recently. It may be that the MMTers have genuinely figured out some more accurate model for how government debt works. (Though I doubt it, even Krugman has referred to it as Calvinball.) But more important than the accuracy of the idea, is how it ends up getting translated when it filters down to citizens/voters. The average voter has no interest in the actual wonky policy debate. They have no understanding of monetary supply or inflation or the dollar’s status as a reserve currency. Consequently they’re either going to ignore the whole debate, or it’s going to get translated into something they can understand. The most likely candidate for the latter is a conviction that deficits don’t matter and the government can spend whatever it wants, and so what possible reason could there be for not spending money? Particularly if people are in need.

Now of course it’s going too far to say that this conviction would be equivalent to a religion. It may be easier at this stage of things to view such an idea as a myth. A myth which is a distortion of MMT, but which arises out of it in a fairly natural fashion. And even if we imagined that people could understand all of the ins and outs of Modern Monetary Theory, you can see how the myth is much more appealing. Not merely is it simple and straightforward, but it appeals to their self-interest. When given a choice between doing the hard work of understanding the in-and-outs of things, listening to the experts, or believing a simple and compelling myth. Most people are going to go with the myth. Technocracy imagined that most people even even if they’re reluctant to do the hard work, will still go with believing the experts, but that’s simply not the case, 

What’s actually happening is that people are choosing between two myths. The other myth is a myth about debt. It is also simple and compelling. It says that debt is bad. As it turns out that’s not the case, governments need to be able to borrow. This is what makes it a myth, but it’s nevertheless a simple and straightforward idea that people can organize around. Experts, such as they are, may direct people towards one or the other myths, but essentially they’re a side show. 

II.

As I mentioned in that last post there are lots of books that speak to the importance of religion, but since we’re starting with myths and working our way up to religions, let’s start with Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari. In yet another stab at explaining the uniqueness of humans Harari puts forth the idea that our uniqueness comes from our ability to craft these myths. That through myth-making we can create imagined orders and frameworks, which allow us to exceed the limits set by the natural order. You might notice that this is very similar to the other candidate for “human uniqueness” I recently mentioned in my review of The Secret of Our Success by Joseph Henrich. For Henrich it was culture, for Harari it’s myths, but as you can imagine the two end up having substantial overlap.

Now, in the interest of full disclosure, it’s been awhile since I read Sapiens, and my note taking back then had not reached its current heights. Fortunately I did come across a blog post where someone had summarized the book. Accordingly, for convenience, I’ll be referencing that rather than Harari’s book. 

In doing so let’s review what we’re trying to do. Our overarching question is how do we beneficially unite large groups of people. Well setting aside the “beneficial” bit for the moment. Historically, uniting people above the level of a tribe has always begun with the application of force, or at least a form of power which was ultimately backed up by such force. I’ve talked about this before at some length, but as it turns out, even though in that last discussion I peeled away the veneer of democracy, I didn’t go deep enough. There was at least one more layer. From the Sapiens summary:

A natural order is a stable order. There is no chance that gravity will cease to function tomorrow, even if people stop believing in it. In contrast, an imagined order is always in danger of collapse, because it depends upon myths, and myths vanish once people stop believing in them. In order to safeguard an imagined order, continuous and strenuous efforts are imperative. Some of these efforts take the shape of violence and coercion.

To say that a social order is maintained by military force immediately raises the question: what maintains the military order? It is impossible to organise an army solely by coercion. At least some of the commanders and soldiers must truly believe in something, be it God, honour, motherland, manhood or money.

To maintain an imagined order, we need people who believe in it – the military, the elites, and the peasants.

In other words behind the threat of force is a myth that makes the force cohere into something useful, and beyond that myths are ultimately responsible for all cohering even if you’re not talking about the military—as our recent myth-induced chaos bears testament to. But if all power structures are ultimately built on a foundation of belief in some myth, then what myth forms the foundation of a modern technocracy? I suspect the answer is that there isn’t one, and as I concluded in my last post, this lack represents its fundamental weakness. But it’s only fair that we consider some possibilities before definitely concluding that.

III.

A technocracy is rule by technical experts. So perhaps the foundational myth is in the power of experts. Like all good myths this would be one with quite a bit of truth behind it. But is that all that’s required for a good myth? That it be a simplification of some more complicated truth, designed for easy ingestion by the masses? Probably not, at least as I consider examples of unifying myths, the amount of truth they contain seems mostly incidental to their success. What really seems to determine how successful they are is the emotional appeal of their core idea. To return to the other two frameworks I talked about in my last post: national greatness and Trumpism. The former’s emotional appeal is right there in the name. The powerful idea that the United States is a nation with a destiny! While the latter both borrows the appeal of the former—Make America Great Again—and the age-old appeal of unifying around a single, charismatic figure. In this case the idea that Trump is a transformative figure in his own right, something of a Moses who will set his people free. Do you see any similar appeal around the idea of “listen to the experts”? I don’t. It sounds more hectoring than inspiring, as I think recent events have shown.

What if we take it back a step and make our unifying myth the myth of science. Well we’re immediately faced with an oxymoron, since science is all about puncturing myths, or at least getting to the bottom of them. Which is to say the great strength of science, that it is self-critical, is exactly what we don’t want in this situation. It prioritizes doubt, but unity requires at least some degree of certainty. You can neither imagine someone storming the Capitol in the name of science nor facing down such a mob in the name of science either. You can imagine both happening in the name of justice or duty, but not science. 

Perhaps technocracy can unify people using the myth of progress? This seems like the best candidate, and to the extent that technocracy has been successful this is probably the unifying myth it has drawn on. But I think there are several reasons to think that this myth isn’t really capable of “going the distance” as they say. First off, while progress doesn’t come embedded with quite the same level of doubt as science it still invites a certain amount of criticism and reflection. All of which is to say that people feel they should be able to measure progress, and that, because it’s “progress” every time they measure it, there should be more of it. This gives progress a certain fragility. As long as progress is obvious it makes a great unifying myth, but if it stalls or reverses or takes a form that’s difficult to quantify, it’s utility as a myth quickly disappears. Also what if you end up with progress in some areas, but not in others? And what if some groups are doing great while things are getting worse for other groups? Suddenly progress isn’t unifying, it’s divisive. Which, once again is something we’ve seen play out in recent events. 

Perhaps the key problem with all of these myths is that in order for a myth to be useful it has to inspire people during both the good times and the bad. It has to not merely unify people when things are going great—nearly anything will work for that. No, it’s when times are tough that a unifying myth is put to the test. Does it continue to function when unity is both important and difficult? In order to do this there has to be something about the myth which encourages sacrifice, or at the minimum naturally assembles people into teams. One could argue that a great nation shouldn’t have to sacrifice, but at least that myth encourages everyone to want their nation to win, and from there the necessity of making sacrifices becomes pretty obvious.

In the final analysis technocracy may be antithetical to both unity and sacrifice. Under the idea of national greatness we’re all citizens, all part of the vast arc of destiny that has carried the United States from a hall in Philadelphia, through numerous wars against evils like slavery and facism, all the way up to walking on the Moon. Trumpism is not nearly so majestic, but it nevertheless formed people up into teams and gave them a goal to strive for. Even democracy at its most vanilla puts forth the idea that every voter has a part to play in government. But a technocracy contains none of these elements. The average citizen isn’t part of something grand they’re just a piece in a puzzle the technical experts are trying to solve. Through their behavior they may make the puzzle easier or more difficult to solve, they are not the prime movers in the story. They’re not the people playing the game of chess, they’re the pieces on the board. (I can’t decide if using the word “pieces” in two different contexts is clever or confusing…)

There is one other important point to be made in this discussion: unity can either be something which is cultivated internally or it can be imposed externally. I’m not going to spend a lot of time going down this path since I covered it in a previous post, but I would argue that the long period we’ve experienced without any wars has also contributed to our lack of unity. War’s have rarely been truly existential threats for the United States, but even so, knowing that great harm will befall you unless you pull together with the rest of the country is a powerful motivation to do just that. And as I mentioned in the last post, it is during such times as war, or in the immediate aftermath of 9/11 that the feeling of national greatness always reached its peak. 

At this point you may agree that myths are useful, you may even agree that technocracies are bad at cultivating unifying myths, but you might still think that they’re more effective, by virtue of the fact that they’re based on science, evidence and data rather than conspiracies (Trumpism) or a history which has been white-washed of all the bad things (national greatness). That in the long run technocracies will be a better framework for beneficially unifying people than any framework which relies on simplifying myths. This would appear to be the contention of a lot of people, and one of the great debates of the age. Let’s see if we can get to the bottom of it.

IV.

To start with I’m going to jump ahead somewhat. I’m going to go straight from talking about myths to talking about religion. Ideally I would carefully build that progression, but I think it’s pretty obvious that religions are collections of myths. Myths which happen to be based on eternal truths if you’re a believer, or myths which may nevertheless be useful even if you’re not. But clearly everything I said above about myths—that they are coherent, easy to understand, and inspiring during both good times and bad—also applies to religious beliefs. It might even be useful to think of religions as mythplexes—aggregations of useful myths. 

If we accept that religions are the preferred framework for managing people via myths, then that’s what we should be measuring technocracies against. And unless I’ve completely missed the point, its supporters make the fundamental claim that technocracies are better than religions at unifying large groups of people. Regardless of whether we’re comparing it against traditional religions like Hinduism or Christiantiy. Or comparing them against civic religions, like the ideology of patriotic national greatness which held sway in the US until very recently. Though calling this a “fundamental claim” may give an inaccurate impression of how much attention technocrats pay to this comparison. I think most of them consider this superiority so blindingly obvious as to be unworthy of discussion, not something people are still fighting over. If this is the case, where are technocracies superior? What standards are we using for our comparison, and how does one even make the comparison? If we have a modern Scandanavian technocracy on one side, and, say, Christianity on the other, what are we looking for?

Obviously this is a big subject with a lot of potential areas where one could focus. Also it’s one where my opinion by itself isn’t worth very much. Fortunately, as I mentioned in the last post there are numerous books that have weighed in on this subject. Though before I dive in, it’s obvious I’m biased on this subject, and it’s almost certain that this bias extends to the selection of books I’ve read. So the fact that I can come up with far more books making the case for religion, than making the case for secular technocracies, may say more about me than about the state of scholarship on the subject. Accordingly if you know of any books making the case for technocracies which I haven’t read please let me know. The chief one I’m aware of is Enlightenment Now by Steven Pinker, and I’m not going to spend any time with it, because I already did a whole post on it, and this post is focused on the religious side of the debate. 

With those biases noted, let’s take a look at what we’ve got. I’ll be covering a lot of books, so by necessity I’m going to be brief, but in nearly all cases I’ve reviewed these books already and I’ll link back to those, more extended discussions. And in the one case where I haven’t discussed the book I’m about to so you’ll just have to tune back in at the beginning of March. 

Let’s start with the book in this last category, a book I just finished The WEIRDest People in the World, by Joseph Henrich. This one has a particularly interesting contribution to make on the topic. First off it makes the claim that just about everything you might think of as attributes of a modern technocracy is the result of Western Christianity’s “Marriage and Family Program” (MFP). That this MFP produced WEIRD people, an acronym which stands for:

  • Western
  • Educated
  • Industrialized
  • Rich
  • Democratic

These five words are also among the first words someone might think of when describing a technocracy, which would mean that technocracies aren’t in competition with religions; they are in fact only possible after hundreds of years of religious influence! Now this still leaves open the argument that technocracies are the stage of evolution past religion, that they are an improvement, which we will get to in a minute, but at a minimum I think anyone making this sort of argument would carry the burden of proof.

Beyond this WEIRDest People also spends a lot of time pointing out the enormous changes religion was able to make through the MFP, taking thousands if not tens of thousands of years of kin based organizational structures and remaking them into structures capable of much greater cooperation across a much larger number of people. Exactly the sort of beneficial organization I keep referring to.

As long as we’re on the subject of Henrich, his other book, Secret of Our Success, makes the strong case for the power of cultural evolution to organize societies as opposed to the method of rationally arriving at solutions and policies. Does not the former essentially describe the development of religion? While the latter is nearly an exact description of the technocratic mindset?

A Secular Age, by Charles Taylor, makes much the same point as WEIRDest People, though from a very different angle. In Taylor’s case he spends 900 pages disproving the idea that secularization is a story of subtracting the bad bits of religion (for our purposes, if we equated “bits” to “myths” that’s pretty close to the mark). In place of this he argues that secularization has been an additive process, that everything associated with it was built on a vast foundation of progress that was driven by religion in all of its aspects. 

Clash of Civilizations by Samuel Huntington, makes the comprehensive claim that civilization is impossible in the absence of religion. That all civilizations have to be built around the framework of a common system of myths and beliefs. 

That’s four books, to these we could easily add four more: Marriage and Civilization by William Tucker, together with Sex and Culture by J.D. Unwin which (along with WEIRDest People) all make the point that monogamous marriage is critical to civilization as we understand it. Perhaps technocracies share religion’s dedication to this subject, if so I’ve yet to come across any evidence of it. There’s also Seeing Like a State by James C. Scott, which is yet another indictment of technocracy’s ability to plan and manage complex societies, with illustrations of how long it takes for such failures to manifest. Finally there’s Tribe by Sebastian Junger, which speaks to the deep dissatisfaction and the lack of unity so many people experience while living in modern technocracies. 

To these eight I could add still more, but that’s enough for now, and as I said, my own studies of this subject may be biased, and if so I welcome correction. But, as far as I can tell, religion has been absolutely critical to developing the society we currently have and we abandon it in favor of a secular technocracy at our peril. Though as I said perhaps technocracy is a natural evolution from where we were. Either an advancement which eliminates the need for religion or one which ushers in some new quasi religion which will fill the hole left by traditional religions.

V.

Even the most cursory review of the state of the world would have to conclude that technocracies are not doing well. This is not their moment, and it’s hard to discern any sense in which they have allowed us to transcend the need for myths and religions. They have not demonstrated any permanent and unshakable advantage over previous forms of government. In fact, at the moment they seem very shaken. But even more than their current distress, we get the best evidence in favor of my thesis when we look at what has shaken them. 

Obviously, I am most familiar with the US, and here, when you dig into what’s happening to shake the foundations of the technocratic order, it’s myths as far as the eye can see. There’s the myths underlying Trumpism, which were powerful enough to rally 74 million voters. There’s the myths of police violence against minorities, but particularly blacks, which were powerful enough to give us a whole summer of protests. There’s the myths of a socialist revolution sweeping away late-stage capitalism in an environmentally friendly way, which have provided enduring support for Bernie Sanders and The Squad. And somewhere in there, there is still the myth of national greatness, and American exceptionalism.

Like all good myths these are all based on a significant body of truth, but that’s not what makes them powerful. Technocrats who come along and point out Trump’s flaws, or that the circumstances of some of the police shootings were not quite as egregious as has been claimed, make very little headway against these myths. More facts are not what the people crave. They obviously crave something the technocrats have a difficult time providing. 

To these observations we should add the point that technocracies have not been around for very long, and while perhaps this means we should give them more time—that they have not been given a fair chance. I view it in the opposite fashion. Whatever success they have had, has been during a brief period of exceptional peace and stability. This has provided the illusion that they work, when, as I already pointed out, in good times nearly every system works. 

Taken together it seems pretty clear that technocracies are not an advancement which have allowed us to abandon myths and religion, that we still need them as much as ever and technocracies cannot fill that hole. So what about the idea that we might be transitioning to a new civic religion? 

I first encountered this idea in the Slate Star Codex post, Gay Rites Are Civil Rites, which right off the bat is a very clever title, particularly given the subject matter. In the post he argued that the old civic religion of national greatness and patriotism, which I’ve spent so much time talking about with its emphasis on patriotism, American History, and a parade on the 4th of July might be getting replaced by a new civic religion which emphasizes tolerance, progress towards the future, and a parade celebrating Gay Pride. For a label you might call it Wokeism, or the Religion of Progress, but regardless of what you call it or what you think about it’s chances for success, it’s a fascinating idea. If you’re interested in the nuts and bolts I would urge you to read that post, because I’ve only scratched the surface. But I do see several issues with the idea:

  1. As I keep pointing out, one of the key features of a religion is that it works during good times and bad. How does wokeism encourage sacrifice? And not just the sacrifice of advantaged groups for those that have been disadvantaged but the sacrifice of all of its adherents in exchange for something they believe to be the greater good?
  2. And while it’s possible I could have made this clearer, it’s not that we need a religion, it’s that we need a religion that can unify us all, in the way that national greatness used to unify the nation or the way Christianity unified the West. At least so far whatever Wokeism is, it’s been pretty divisive.
  3. Even if we grant that it’s a new and better religion which has arrived just in time to replace the old and make us an even better nation. Transitioning to a new religion is not something to be undertaken lightly. Look at everything that went into the creation of the civic religion of patriotism: a revolution, a war, the creation of a new nation built exclusively around the religion, not to mention the extraordinary people. Just George Washington’s contribution as the first president was a huge factor. One that would be difficult to replicate. 

Put all of this together and the best case scenario is a tumultuous and contentious transition to a new set of myths with unknown efficacy, and it could end up being something far worse than that. The American Revolution was the best case scenario for transitioning to a new religion. If you want the worst check out the Russian revolution and its aftermath. Still it’s fair to ask what our actual options are.

That’s a tough question. I still think it might be easiest to retreat back to a religion of national greatness, but I’m worried that Trump has rendered that idea permanently toxic to at least half the country. There are of course traditional religions, and perhaps that’s a closer destination, but it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like the path to that destination has been lost for a long time.

I wish there was a simple answer. But I think the overarching lesson here is that, in our hubris, in our certainty that we could just sit down and invent the perfect system, we ended casting aside the only thing that really could have saved us. 


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Technocracies Are Cool, but Are They Effective?

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I.

I was on a Discord chat the other day and someone exclaimed, “man substack is like too much content”. When he said that I knew exactly what he meant. At the moment when I’m writing this I have three substack newsletters waiting to be read in my inbox. Two are 4500 words and the “short” one is 3900 words. They all arrived today. Given that the average page of a book is 250 words, that’s over 50 pages of material which has arrived just today. 

(Before we get any farther, let me be clear. I realize that I often publish stuff which is that long, and I am infinitely grateful that anyone reads it. But you will notice that my newsletter is always less than 750 words and only comes out once a month. So while I am a hypocrite about many things, this hypocrisy does not extend to newsletters.)

The newsletters are not merely “too much content” they might also be “too much” to digest. Recently the value of technocracies seemed to be having their moment in my corner of the zeitgeist, and these same newsletters were holding forth on the value of that construct. One writer, somewhat in contradiction of previous comments he had made, was saying they were good. Another writer was also arguing that they’re good, but only so long as their policies are legible. And yet a third was saying that the first two have merely defined technocracies as governments that implement policies they like without describing what principles unite those policies. 

As if that weren’t enough I’m reading or have recently finished several books which would appear to weigh in on the topic. There’s: Seeing Like a State, which seems to be on the anti side of the technocracy debate. Secret of Our Success, also anti. The follow up to that book, WEIRDest People in the World, which so far also seems anti. (Representative quote, “What doesn’t happen is that rational parties sit down, put their heads together, and hash out effective institutional design.”) Island of the Blue Foxes, the story of mid-18th century Russia spending 1/6th of their annual budget on the ill-conceived mission of sending three thousand interpreters, laborers, mariners, surveyors, scientists, secretaries, students, and soldiers on a scientific expedition across Siberia. (Though with that many people invasion may be a more appropriate term than expedition.) Reviews for the latter two books will be coming soon, but once again both seem to make a powerful argument against big top down programs of the sort we imagine coming out of a technocracy. 

Finally on top of all of this, there’s the position I’ve taken on this subject already in my various posts. How do these newsletters (Presumably written by people whose opinion I admire, otherwise why would I subscribe?) and these books serve to update my old beliefs? Is anything I’ve read strong enough to overturn one of my beliefs in its entirety? To make me recant one of my previous posts. Unlikely, though I should be careful not to rule that out. But short of reversing my position I still should be updating my beliefs based on this new evidence, but that requires understanding what all of these multitudinous claims are evidence of. I’m sympathetic to the argument presented by the third newsletter that they don’t really represent arguments for or against technocracy, because no seems quite able to agree on exactly what technocracy is. Still the arguments are probably evidence of something, but already it’s obvious that we’re travelling through a complex intellectual landscape.

Furthermore, if this is the situation I’m in, as a bona fide pseudo-intellectual, imagine the situation of someone without such mastery of facts and reasoning? What are they to make of these various arguments? You may accurately assert that most people, even if they’re familiar with the word “technocracy” have very little interest in debates over its efficacy as a system. But the argument I’ve been describing is taking place as part of a larger discussion, one which they are interested in. A discussion that has been front and center since November 3rd: 

How do we come together as a people and enact long term, beneficial policies?

II.

Years ago, a very wise friend of mine made the assertion that the crisis of modern politics was a crisis of epistemology. His politics are very different from mine (though they appear to be converging in weird ways recently) and I suspect that my bias against those politics made me overlook the prophetic character of his words. But I’m paying attention now because everything he has foretold has come to pass. But before we go any further, we should define epistemology for those few who are unfamiliar with the term. This is not the first time I’ve brought up the topic. The last time around I defined it as: the investigation of what distinguishes justified belief from opinion. Which is a pretty good definition (and one I stole from Wikipedia). But recently, I encountered the idea that epistemology can be broken up into three questions. And this may be an easier jumping off point for the discussion I want to have. These three questions are:

  1. What is knowledge?
  2. Can we have knowledge?
  3. How do we get knowledge?

It is assumed that if we can identify knowledge and acquire it, that we can then go on to apply that knowledge to our various problems in the form of policies, and all epistemological frameworks are designed to bridge that gap. But as we’ll see the chasm between facts and policies is wider than people realize, and this even if we assume that we actually can reliably acquire facts, which is by no means certain. 

This is clearly a place where some examples are in order. My first example is from a previous post on the topic. While I included it there as something of an aside—an idea that occurred to me while I was writing, but which I hadn’t given much thought to—it has since grown to seem more and more germane. This is the epistemological framework of national greatness. 

For this example I want you to picture old school patriotism. The kind one would have experienced during World War II, or in the immediate aftermath of 9/11. But also the lower intensity form that was ubiquitous in the 50’s. This is the framework that prevailed in my primary education up at least though High School. It was a civic religion where the Revolutionary War was the creation myth, the Constitution the tablets of Sinai and the Founding Fathers its prophets. With that picture in your mind let’s return to our questions and see how this framework treats them.

  1. What is knowledge? Knowledge consists of the principles that went into the foundation of this country. The way those principles were used to do good things and improve the world.
  2. Can we have knowledge? We can not only have this knowledge, it is our duty as good citizens to acquire a good civic education. To understand the Bill of Rights and the Constitution
  3. How do we get knowledge? By studying the history of the country. Noting the throughline of principles from the pilgrims to the founders through to the present day. And how all of this makes the United States unique and special.

When it came time to translate this knowledge into policies, that was relatively easy. Not because specific policies are obvious but because it acted as a religion, and in so doing encouraged belief and unity. This provided a foundation for agreement between various policy makers and had the power of creating a united front out of the entire country, for example the one presented to Russia during the Cold War. The benefits of this framework are less about getting everything right than in acting together. 

Our second example is more recent, it’s the epistemological framework of all the Trump supporters who believe the election was stolen. While this isn’t entirely accurate, for the moment let’s label this framework as Trumpism. Being more nascent, it’s contours have not quite come into focus, but you have the same process going on:

  1. What is knowledge? Knowledge consists of the things those in power don’t want us to know—the methods the elites use to retain power, and oppress the common man.
  2. Can we have knowledge? Yes, but not by listening to the mainstream media. We have to actively seek out the truth, which is only available through people on the fringe, who are constantly being censored.
  3. How do we get knowledge? By diligent search; by looking at the facts behind the scenes; by putting together the pieces of the conspiracy.

When people use this framework, the knowledge thus acquired translates into knowing “what needs to be done”. These are policies but they are necessarily of a desperate and radical nature because this epistemology encodes the idea that we are already at war. Or that in any case if we’re not at war with the elites they are already at war with us. That this is a life or death struggle, an existential crisis, requiring extraordinary measures.

The final example is of course a technocracy, which at least as I understand it, looks something like this:

  1. What is knowledge? Knowledge consists of things we have uncovered using the scientific method.
  2. Can we have knowledge? Yes, but “we” should be construed fairly narrowly. This is not populism. We’re not aggregating the knowledge of the masses. We’re relying on the knowledge of experts.
  3. How do we get knowledge? By funding research; by collecting sociological data; by studying what other countries do. 

Advocates of technocracy assume that their methodology results in purer knowledge than the other two examples, and that the purer the knowledge the better the policies which derive from that knowledge. I think this often leads its advocates to be lazy, to assume that pure knowledge will naturally lead to good policies without much in the way of additional effort, which leads them to emphasize some things and neglect others. But of course the other frameworks do the same thing, each choses something different to focus on. 

III.

Technocracies seem to focus on the input. If we just make sure that we have truth going in the one side, then good policies will automatically come out the other side. This is why I was so impressed when Matthew Yglesias pointed out that policy has to be legible. Impressed enough that I wrote a whole post on it. Because this is one of the key weaknesses of a technocracy, it’s not enough to just work on the inputs into the system you have to polish the outputs as well. Implementation matters. And while I say this is a key weakness it’s not the only weakness or even the biggest weakness, it may just be the most obvious. No, the fatal weaknesses of technocracy are far more subtle, and often in the areas that look like strengths to its practitioners. As the first example of this, they emphasize measurement and accuracy, but by limiting themselves to what can be easily measured it fatally undermines both the inputs and the outputs. But as they emphasize inputs, let’s start there.

It would be nice to imagine that by using the epistemological framework of science that we can extract pure Truth and that having done that we can filter it through the medium of experts, generating perfect policies on the other end. But of course for all it’s strengths science does generate pure Truth, it generates a collection of insights with various levels of confidence, and these insights are only those which can be gathered using certain methodologies, in narrow domains while working under obvious limitations. 

As an example of how this operates we need merely look at how the pandemic was handled. We can measure the number of deaths, hospital capacity, and the rate at which the disease spreads, but we can’t measure the psychological toll of isolation, non-standard schooling, and a hundred other second order effects which will only manifest years later. So we focus on what we can measure, deaths. This is good and proper, but no one should pretend it’s perfect or that we have somehow arrived at an optimal solution to the problem. And of course it’s worse than that. Because as it turns out the technocrats have not even been particularly good at managing the problems they’re supposedly good at. You can blame Trump all you want, but it was technocrats who told people that masks weren’t effective, that travel bans were a bad idea, and possibly the least technocratic state in the country, West Virginia, is doing the best on vaccines (Wait, scratch that, my own home state of Utah apparently passed them recently… But WV is still second.) And don’t even get me started about the slow vaccination rate in Europe

This problem becomes even more difficult when you move from hard sciences like epidemiology to the social sciences. At least with the pandemic you had deaths to track and a virus to sequence. Tracking polarization is significantly more difficult and error prone, and there is no gene we can sequence which will allow us to target the source of the despair and anger which has been on display recently.

All of the foregoing is indisputably true, but proponents of technocracy will still argue that it’s better than Trumpism at solving this despair and anger. But is it? First there’s an argument that technocracy created those problems in the first place. Under a very narrow definition of technocracy it may be possible to argue that it didn’t, but expand it out a little bit and it’s hard not to see a correlation (even if causation is difficult to prove). Perhaps you remain unconvinced, but one still has to ask, “Better in whose estimation?” It would be unsurprising if the technocrats thought it was better, but what about the people actually experiencing the despair and anger?

If we take the people who stormed the Capitol as a representative sample, 60% of them, according to data compiled by the Washington Post, had prior financial troubles. Why would they blame technocrats for these troubles? Well let’s look at other data, this time from the RAND Corporation who found that if the income trends which existed from 1945 to 1974 had just continued to the present day that the bottom 90% would have ended up with $47 trillion dollars more in aggregate taxable income. Instead that money ended up with the top 10%. If you were going to apply a label to the top 10%, “technocrats” is as good a description as anything else. Certainly the voting pattern of the top 10% would skew heavily technocratic.

Interestingly technocracies are very good at taking numbers like this and inputting them into their system. We hear all about rising inequality, but under technocracy how do those inputs turn into outputs which actually end up reducing despair and anger? So far there doesn’t appear to be much evidence that they do.

All of this is not an argument to switch from technocracy to Trumpism. I’m making a point about the blind spots of both frameworks. The blindspots of Trumpism are easy to spot. The blindspots of technocracy are less obvious, but they are even more consequential. Trumpism has really never been the law of the land, even while Trump was president. The same can not be said of technocracies, which are in power all over the world, including the US.

Having covered the problems with the inputs, what about the outputs?

IV.

It’s easy to imagine that if you just have all the information about an issue that the policies for dealing with that issue will be obvious. But it’s also possible that there is no connection between facts and policies. In one sense this is just the old saw that correlation does not equal causation. In a larger sense we’re talking about making a connection between how things are and how things ought to be, what’s often referred to as the Is-ought problem, or Hume’s guillotine. It’s called that because Hume was the first to point out the impossibility of logically deriving a morale system from a starting point completely lacking in morality, for example, raw facts. That no matter how good the inputs into a framework, if they didn’t come with some morality attached, no morality will emerge out the other side. 

Now this is not to say the technocracies have zero embedded morality but, if you think back to the epistemologies of the three different frameworks, it’s clear that it has the least built in morality of any of them and the morality it does have is pretty sterile. On the other hand Trumpism is essentially a moral crusade. I think it’s pretty embryonic and poorly considered, and while Trump himself was able to get it started, and in fact proved fairly adept at it. He seemed unable to hammer it into anything effective. Which is to say, it doesn’t appear that either technocracy or Trumpism has a great plan for getting unity back. This leaves our third framework, national greatness. Thus far I haven’t spent much time talking about it, but it also has quite a bit of embedded morality, which provides interesting lessons for our current crisis, and those lessons are even more pertinent when we contrast it with a technocracy.

It might be most useful to start with a discussion of why we largely abandoned the framework of national greatness. After 200 or so years of using this framework as our default what made us decide that it was inadequate? As far as I can tell it was because of the morality embedded in its epistemology. In putting together its knowledge base it was decided it would be better (i.e. more moral) to overlook some inconvenient facts. For example the treatment of Native Americans; the restriction of suffrage to white, land-owning men; and most of all slavery, including the fact that most of the founders were slave owners. But that was part of the point, whereas technocracy emphasizes increasing the accuracy of the inputs, national greatness emphasized the efficacy of the outputs. This framework sacrificed accuracy for unity. But by embedding moral decisions in the inputs they were able to more easily output morality on the other side. Put more simply they created a civic religion, this is more important than it seems, since historically religions have always been the best place to put moral content.  

Contrast that with a technocracy which mostly eschews morality, and the morality it does put forth is limited to material issues, issues which are unavoidably competitive. (As much as self help gurus might preach otherwise, most people still have a zero sum mindset.) Accordingly not only is it a weaker morality than that put forth by a framework of national greatness, what morality it does contain serves to divide rather than unite. 

This finally takes us to the biggest weakness of a technocracy, it is not a religion. This is obviously a controversial assertion. Particularly since its supporters view this as one of it’s greatest strengths, but it is nevertheless true. 

V.

Even if you accept that some form of religion is the only way out of this mess—even if it’s an ersatz one like the civic religion of national greatness. We’re still a long ways away from anything approaching a concrete solution. And I’m already a couple of days past my self imposed deadline for this post, so we’ll have to explore what that might mean in our next post. But obviously I can’t just leave it here. So allow me to briefly toss out some thoughts to give you a sense of where I’m headed.

I imagine that some of you are still a long way away from believing that religion is the answer, so any post on this subject is going to have to spend at least some time creating that foundation. But I think there are plenty of books that make this exact argument. Just drawing on books I’ve reviewed there’s Clash of Civilizations, A Secular Age, Marriage and Civilization, Sex and Culture, Secret of our Success and the one I’m currently working on The WEIRDest people in the World. 

A quote from that last book seems particularly appropriate at this moment:

…throughout human history, rulers needed religions much more than religions needed rulers.

However important some sort of religion might be, our options are limited:

  • It seems difficult to imagine that we could go back to a unifying ideology of national greatness, and arguably that’s what Trump was trying to do. It’s possible to imagine that someone other than Trump might have been able to pull it off, but now that we’ve had Trump I think he might have burned that bridge.
  • It seems equally difficult to imagine some large scale return to an existing religion, however much some believers might wish for this. 
  • If we can’t retrace our steps is there some new religion we’re travelling towards? This is an interesting idea and one I’ve covered already in this space, and which I’ll certainly return to in the next post. But for now let’s just say that even if we can make such a transition it’s likely to involve serious upheaval if not actual bloodshed. (And perhaps this is what’s already happening.)

Everyone agrees that the country is sick. This might seem like a radical (not to mention underdeveloped) proposal for its cure, and in some respects it clearly is, but on the other hand I’m merely suggesting that we should look another look at what worked for thousands of years. 


I have a framework as well, I input books on one end of things and spit out posts on the other. This is just one of many possible frameworks. Other people input sanctimoniousness and spit out judgement. Still others input hot takes and spit out even hotter takes. If you think my framework is better than those and worth supporting consider donating


The 7 Books I Finished in January

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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  1. Supreme Disorder: Judicial Nominations and the Politics of America’s Highest Courts by: Ilya Shapiro
  2. The Secret of Our Success: How Culture Is Driving Human Evolution, Domesticating Our Species, and Making Us Smarter by: Joseph Henrich
  3. Rhythm of War (Book Four of The Stormlight Archive) by: Brandon Sanderson
  4. The War That Ended Peace: The Road to 1914 by: Margaret MacMillan
  5. Nobody Wants to Read Your Sh*t by: Steven Pressfield
  6. The Minuteman by: Greg Donahue
  7. There is a God: How to Respond to Atheism in the Last Days by: Hyrum Lewis

January started off with a bang, and I was worried that there would be more bangs in between the 6th and the 20th, but fortunately things were pretty quiet. Also, as far as that subject goes I think I’ve already said quite a bit, and other people have said quite a bit more than that, so I thought I’d talk about something lighter. Since this is my book review post it always feels appropriate to talk about books and reading, so let’s do that.

January is a weird month for me when it comes to reading. Every year I have a big annual goal, plus I’m motivated to beat the previous year’s page count (last year it was 37,215, a new record). What this means is that I generally push to finish any book I’m in the middle of by December 31st, so when January dawns I’m not in the middle of any books I’m starting fresh with everything. Since some books may take me several months to finish, I end up doing a significant amount of reading in January I don’t get credit for, i.e. it’s not reflected in the books that show up as being finished that month, it shows up in subsequent months.

At this point you’re all thinking that this is exceptionally boring, and more than you wanted to know, but I do have a point, and as is so often the case that point is that I screwed up. Knowing that this is how January always goes, instead of focusing on some shorter books, I decided to read the latest 1200 page monstrosity from Brandon Sanderson. Which was so huge and started off so slowly, that there was a small chance that when it came time to do this, that would be the only book I would be reviewing. Fortunately, I was incredibly disciplined in January, and I managed to finish just slightly less than my average number of books. Though I will say that as of the 28th of last month, I had only finished three of them, the other four books were all finished during the last three days of the month…


I- Eschatological Reviews

Supreme Disorder: Judicial Nominations and the Politics of America’s Highest Courts 

by: Ilya Shapiro

256 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

Supreme Court confirmation battles throughout history, with some additional emphasis on the more recent battles (This was written after Kavanaugh but before Barrett.)

Who should read this book?

People who want historical context for the current battles over nominations. Or people who want a deeper dive on what happened during those battles, along with opinion on the same from a moderate libertarian perspective.

General Thoughts

The look back through history was very interesting, and I recommend the book just for that part. Obviously contentious politics was not invented in 2016, or in 1987. It’s been around for a lot longer than that, and that goes just as much for the Supreme Court as for anything else. But it is clear that the post war years were unusually calm, and when we compare something happening today to how it’s “always been done” we’re comparing today to that post war period, if you go farther back most of the things that are happening now happened at some point historically. That said, though the fights look similar, Shapiro argues, and I agree, that the stakes are different, but before we get to that some random notes I made while reading the book:

  • Early on in the country’s history they were less concerned with the ideological balance of the court and more concerned with regional balance. It was felt that one member needed to be from Virginia, and one member had to be from New England, etc. So that regional concerns were properly protected. Interesting to think about this in the context of how balanced the current Supreme Court is on specific dimensions, for example: Ivy League vs. Non-Ivy League. (Spoiler: It’s currently 9-0. And arguably worse than that, all current justices went to law school at either Harvard or Yale.)
  • Shapiro puts forth the theory that if Reagan had nominated Bork first, and then Scalia, rather than the other way around, that he probably would have gotten both nominations through. Scalia was charming and would have gotten through regardless, and Bork, who was frank to the point of being combative, would have had an easier time if he hadn’t been the second conservative nominee.
  • Shapiro spent a lot of time praising Clarence Thomas, particularly his work ethic. (I myself have often thought that Thomas is unfairly maligned.)
  • With that partiality in mind, his take on Anita Hill and the nomination of Thomas to the bench was interesting. I had always had the impression that it came down to his word against hers, and they went with him. But Shapiro seems to indicate that there was almost no evidence to support Hill’s accusations and significant evidence contradicting it. That at best she was exaggerating incidents, and at worst she was outright lying.
  • As you might imagine, after the controversy over Merrick Garland not receiving a hearing, Shapiro spends quite a bit of time talking about nominations near the end of a President’s term. He calls it the Thurmond Rule, after it’s first invocation in 1968. And it turns out that not a lot of justices have been nominated and confirmed near the end of a President’s term. Of course having been written between Garland and Barrett he doesn’t cover the full impact of its presence in modern times. But overall the book gives an interesting history of the idea without either dismissing it or advocating for it.

Eschatological Implications

I have often talked in this space about the way in which the Supreme Court has increasingly become the de facto rulers in America, and even the way that this transition somewhat mirrors the end of the Roman Republic. This is increasingly why presidential elections are often decided by what sort of justices the president will nominate. (Would Trump have won in 2016 without this consideration?) A President’s later success is judged by what justices they did nominate. And the nomination of those justices have become far more contentious than any potential legislation because the Supreme Court will be the ones who ultimately decide whether that legislation will take effect. 

Various ideas have been offered for how to reverse this trend including getting rid of lifetime tenure, giving each president a set number of nominations, expanding the number of seats, etc. Shapiro reviews several such proposals in the book, but in the end he contends that none of the proposals is going to work as long as the Supreme Court continues to wield such enormous power. That there is no way for the nominations to become less contentious if you’re fighting over the ultimate power to decide the course of the country. Now obviously, as a well known libertarian, Shapiro is going to make this argument, but at the same time it seems self-evident to the point of being tautological. People are going to fight for power, and if ultimate power is vested with the Supreme Court, that’s what they’re going to fight over. 

The historical stuff in the book is all important because it illustrates that the Supreme Court didn’t always wield such power, and so perhaps they can return to that state. In this endeavor Shapiro praises the idea of textualism, and in particular Scalia’s championing of it. And he is very critical of Roe v. Wade, pointing to it as the point when things went off the rails. Now it is not my intent to relitigate Roe v. Wade, I have said that I don’t think it will be entirely reversed, even after Barrett’s nomination. (Though certainly if it were ever going to happen this would be the time.) Also it’s worth pointing out that even the Ginsburg thought it was a bad ruling from a legal standpoint.  All that aside, I think there’s a credible argument to be made (which is what Shapiro does) that this is when the court took a decisive turn in the direction of absolute power.

I see some similarities here to how the Gracchi brothers used their near absolute power as Tribune of the Plebs to implement their reforms. Reforms which were sorely needed. (This is what the pro choice crowd also argues.) However in the end the only response to such absolute power was for one of the brothers to be clubbed to death (the first such political violence in 400 years) and the other to commit suicide before he could be clubbed to death.

I keep bringing Rome into things because I feel like there’s this similar process happening where loopholes and legalistic interpretations are being invoked more and more rather than relying on the initial understanding of how things are expected to work. The Tribune of the Plebs was not supposed to threaten to veto everything. The Supreme Court was not supposed to invent rights from “penumbras and emanations”, the minority party in the Senate was not supposed to filibuster everything, and the Vice President is not supposed to have the power to change the counting of the Electoral Votes in such a way that it reverses the election. And yet all these things have been attempted. It’s interesting that only the last one failed.


The Secret of Our Success: How Culture Is Driving Human Evolution, Domesticating Our Species, and Making Us Smarter

by: Joseph Henrich

446 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

Another answer to the age old question of what separates humans from animals. Our contender this time is the human ability to transmit knowledge in the form of culture. That we don’t just adapt to our environments through genetic mutations but through cultural mutations as well.

Who should read this book?

Similar to Seeing Like a State, a book I reviewed last month, this book was also the subject of a Slate Star Codex review. Both reviews were so good they just about obviate the need to read the actual books. The one for Secret was thorough enough that I used it as the basis for a podcast episode of my own which, even after having read the book, I still stand by. That comparison aside if you felt the need to read one of the two books I would recommend this one over Seeing Like a State.

General Thoughts

As I mentioned I already wrote a blog post about this book. In preparation for this review I re-read that post and I think it still mostly covers my thoughts on the subject of cultural evolution. But, as not all of you will read it, and as it is pretty long. I’ll summarize my previous point.

Cultural evolution is similar to biological evolution in that it can lead to things which take up a lot of resources, but which don’t actually provide a survival advantage. The classic example from biological evolution is peacock feathers. They may be useful for convincing peahens to mate with you, but they don’t do much to help you get away from predators, i.e. it’s an adaptation which is good for the genes but bad for the individual carrying those genes. From the standpoint of cultural evolution you can imagine funny memes occupying a similar position. Being funny helps the meme to propagate, but spending all of your time on reddit consuming memes may have a negative impact on the survival of the person engaged in the behavior. As memes, and culture more broadly, can be created with less time and effort then developing six foot long feathers, one expects that maladaptive examples of the former should be more common. Accordingly, anytime we examine things that have evolved culturally whether they be traditions, taboos, flourishes, art or what have you, we are faced with two questions. Was this bit of culture useful? That is, did it help people with that cultural package survive? And is it still useful? That is, could it help us survive?

At one point the knowledge of how to make stone weapons was fantastically useful, but these days even if you could somehow acquire it, it would have no value other than as an object of curiosity. To see how we might apply it to the debates of our own day: historically there has been a strong tradition of monogamous heterosexual marriage (MHM) among nearly all cultures, especially larger ones. When we ask our two questions about stone tools the answers are obvious, “yes, it was useful” and “no, it’s not still useful” respectively. When we ask our two questions about MHM, the answers are not nearly so clear. In my previous post I gave some standards for how to answer the first question, and concluded that MHM probably had been useful, but it’s possible that it’s not still useful.

Eschatological Implications

While there is and will continue to be lots of debate over whether a particular bit of culture was useful in the past, there are vast implications for the future of any culture in figuring out what traditions and practices are still useful. I think people want to imagine that the forward march of technology has changed everything, but I strongly suspect it has changed far less than people think. While Henrich doesn’t directly address MHM, or, probably wisely for him and his career, really any of the hot button cultural issues of the day, he does address, and at significant length, how difficult it can be to determine what utility a particular cultural practice has. Things that seem clearly to be nothing more than primitive superstitions like reading animal remains to determine where to hunt, turn out to play a critical role. And as both this book and Seeing Like a State point out the negative effects of abandoning a particular tradition or practice can take decades or even centuries to manifest. 


II- Capsule Reviews

Rhythm of War (Book Four of The Stormlight Archive) 

by: Brandon Sanderson

1232 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

The fourth book of a planned 10 (supposedly two five book series) in Sanderson’s epic saga of the world of Roshar, and the return of the Knights Radiant. 

Who should read this book?

If you’ve read the first three and enjoyed them you’ll probably enjoy this one, though it was my least favorite of the four.

General Thoughts

Sanderson has the life I dreamed of when I was in my early 20s. I don’t think I’m bitter about that, but I might be, so you should take that into account with this review. With that potential bitterness in mind let’s start with the bad stuff:

  • As already mentioned this was my least favorite of the four books.
  • Sanderson is great at writing action and there just wasn’t very much of it in this book.
  • I’ve had the impression since book two, but particularly after book three, that whatever character progress was made in the last book gets undone at the beginning of the next book. This is particularly true with Kaladin and Shallan.
  • I don’t have any problems with characters dying, but in high fantasy you expect characters to die in a noble fashion. Sanderson seems to do the opposite of that. (I’m thinking in particular of a specific death at the end of the previous book, but a similar thing happens in this book.)
  • There’s some big developments right at the end that feel like they came out of left fied.
  • There had to be some way to make this book shorter.

And now for the good:

  • While I can’t stand Moash and cringe every time he shows up, some of the other bad guys were really good in this one.
  • Adolin continues to be one of my favorite characters and I really liked his arc in this one.
  • Despite what I said above, this book’s resolution of Shallan and Kaladin’s arc was more satisfying than I expected. Though I fear in book five we’ll be back to square one or at least several squares behind where we ended in this book.
  • As usual Sanderson’s world-building is top notch and the way in which he expanded on the “physics” of the world in this book was both cool and interesting.

If you’re interested in having a spoiler filled discussion feel free to email me. In particular if you’ve also finished the book. I’m curious what other people think.


The War That Ended Peace: The Road to 1914 

by: Margaret MacMillan

744 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

Events in Europe leading up to the start of World War I

Who should read this book?

As I mentioned I have read a lot of books about World War I recently. I think I would put this at the bottom of the list. Even if your interest was specifically the pre-war years I would read Dreadnought by Robert Massie before this one, despite Massie’s narrower focus. 

General Thoughts

This was the final book of my year long dive into World War I. From the previous section you may come away with the impression that I thought that it was bad. This is untrue. It’s more that the other books were all so good. This book did have lots of details about the various crises leading up to the war, particularly those centered in Austria-Hungary’s relationship to the Balkans. This included the Bosnian Crisis and the Balkan Wars.

I’m sure these events were mentioned in the other books I read, but it wasn’t until this book that I quite realized how close in time they were to the actual war. The Bosnian Crisis was 1908-1909 and the Balken Wars happened from 1912-1913. Despite this 1914 started relatively peacefully.

From this sequence I think we can draw three potential lessons:

First, each crisis depleted the “crisis handling reserves” each nation possessed. Everytime they backed down they looked weak. Everytime they peacefully resolved a crisis only to have a new one erupt a couple of years later, the tactic of peaceful resolution suffered. And after each crisis their views inevitably shifted from, “we avoided war” to, “we should have ended up in a better position or gotten more concessions”. Essentially the whole idea that peace was better gradually eroded, and it had been so long since the last war that the idea was never that strong to begin with.

Second and somehow working in the opposite direction, with each crisis that didn’t end in war, it seemed more obvious that such crises would always be peacefully resolved. And therefore (following the above) we can demand more and be more intransigent. (See the demands Austria-Hungary made of Serbia right before the war started.)  

Finally, and perhaps most troubling. In the end it would have been better for Germany to have started the war sooner. Had they begun things in 1908 Russia’s position would have been much worse, and even France would have not been quite as prepared as they were in 1914.

And of course there’s the lesson one takes away from all books on World War I. The Kaiser really made things much worse. 

I leave it as an exercise to the reader to draw parallels between all of the above and our own time, but there are a lot of them.


Nobody Wants to Read Your Sh*t 

by: Steven Pressfield

210 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

How to write well, with a particular look at the various genres of writing (Advertising, screenplays, novels, etc.)

Who should read this book?

Probably anyone who wants to be a better writer could benefit from this book. It’s short, dense with information, and entertaining to boot. 

General Thoughts

There are many self-help books out there, though sometimes they’re disguised as autobiographies. And there are many examples, particularly in that latter category of people who claim to give you the secret to success, but what their story really boils down to is, don’t be lazy and get lucky. “I worked really hard while I was at Harvard and had the good fortune to meet <Fill in name of famous person>.” The idea being that the numerous things which had to happen in order to get admitted to Harvard were not the lucky bits, it was developing a relationship with the professor while you were there.

On the other hand, occasionally you come across a book by someone who really struggled, who spent decades failing before they finally started to get a little bit of success. Who really did have to figure out how to do something, they weren’t just handed it. Steven Pressfield is in this latter category. And I find books written by such people to be both far more enjoyable, and far more useful. 

If you have any interest at all in writing I would recommend this book.


The Minuteman

by: Greg Donahue 

Only available on Audible 1 hr 54 minutes

Briefly, what is this book about?

Domestic Nazis and the Jewish gangsters who beat the crap out of them in the years before World War II.

Who should read this book?

If you’re looking for a domestic predecessor for Antifa, or you really like stories of Nazis getting punched. This is your book.

General Thoughts

During prohibition Sidney Abramowitz, aka Nat Arno was an enforcer for the Jewish mob. When prohibition ended that job largely ended as well. Fortunately for Arno shortly thereafter Hitler came to power and with that came the rise of Nazism in America. This book is the gleeful recounting of how Arno organized former enforcers like himself and other New Jersey Jews into a band of vigilantes dedicated to disrupting American Nazi rallies by throwing in stink bombs and then ambushing the attendees as they ran away—beating them with baseball bats and brass knuckles.

At least it came across as gleeful, also vigilante is my term. I don’t recall it ever being used in the book.

Everyone who reads this book understands how bad Nazis are. And I admit there is a certain pleasure at hearing how Jews “fought back” in America. But before lionizing Arno it’s important to remember that this is pre World War II. Most of the evidence we draw on for how horrible Nazis are is based on what happened during World War II, so the people beating the crap out of German Americans couldn’t use that as justification. Also Arno did it in opposition to the police, and to many leaders of the Jewish community, who thought he was making things worse. Also it’s not clear how much of this was actually fighting back. The stories of the Nazis beating up Jews are relatively sparse, but this book has lots of stories of the reverse.

All of which is to say that I think, particularly based on what was known at the time, that Arno was the bad guy. And I’m not even sure his actions are defensible even in retrospect. Certainly I don’t think Arno should be used as a role model for anyone operating today. And this book rather than dealing with any of these issues, mostly came across as a celebration of vigilantism.


III- Religious Reviews

There is a God: How to Respond to Atheism in the Last Days 

by: Hyrum Lewis

162 pages

Who should read this book?

If you’re expecting to have a debate soon with a New Atheist this is a great book to help you prepare for that debate. Similarly if you’re wondering what sort of arguments you might make against a New Atheist even if you never plans to ever use them, you might also want to read this book.

General Thoughts

This book is a pretty good collection of arguments against New Atheism. I keep qualifying that we’re talking about New Atheism and not atheism in general, because as we saw in the book The Seven Types of Atheism, which I reviewed back in October, New Atheism is only one of several types of atheism. And even John Grey who felt compelled to write a whole book on the many different types of atheism doesn’t think much of it. Which is to say the book is focused on only a narrow slice of atheism, and not a well regarded one at that. The book’s utility grows more narrow still when you consider that there is much more to winning an argument than logic and reason. It’s entirely possible that Lewis’ arguments are all but ironclad. (And indeed, particularly when paired with Grey’s, they do seem pretty solid.) Despite this I still very much doubt that if I gave this book to someone who was deeply atheist that reading it would turn him into a Christian. 

This outcome is what we would expect no matter how carefully crafted the book, but I still think that Lewis could have done better. His tone is pretty combative. A weakness he admits to in the introduction. Beyond that the book is long on argument and short on persuasive rhetoric. My own son considers himself to be an atheist, and while there were moments when I thought about trying to get him to read this book, by the end I felt that the experience would be counterproductive. 

None of this is to claim that writing such a book would be easy, merely that knowing he was being too combative it should have been possible for Lewis to tone it down more than he did.


A better writer would have taken Pressfield’s book, used the tactics therein to combine the themes of combativeness, preemptive action and Germans into some wisdom for the ages. Unfortunately I am not such a writer, if you want to help me become such a writer, consider donating.


The Eschatologist #1: Two Paths Forward

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It’s the end of the month, so it’s once again time to talk about the end of the world…

When I was a boy I couldn’t imagine anything beyond the year 2000. I’m not sure how much of it was due to the perceived importance of a new millennium, how much of it was due to the difficulties of extrapolation, and how much of it was due to my religious upbringing. (Let’s get that out of the way up front. I’m a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or what most people call Mormons.) 

I think, even had I been able to imagine something past the year 2000, it wouldn’t have looked anything like this. It seems not enough has changed. The common complaint is, “Where’s my flying car?” Because instead, we’ve ended up with something very different, as this observation I came across on Reddit illustrates:

I possess a device, in my pocket, that is capable of accessing the entirety of information known to man.

I use it to look at pictures of cats and get in arguments with strangers.

People still talk about the wondrous technology that awaits us, things like artificial superintelligence, fusion reactors, and an end to aging—any one of which would dramatically change the world. But none of that is the stuff we did get. Instead, we got things like social media, which has gone a long way towards enabling those “arguments with strangers”. 

Technology has always had the capability of causing huge harms as well as bringing huge benefits. But in the past these harms were obvious, things like nuclear weapons or pollution, but increasingly the harms are more subtle. People talk seriously of a second civil war, and if such a calamity comes to pass social media will have played a large role. This is not the role people expected social media to play when it first entered the scene. Most expected it would be a way to connect the world and bring us all together—not tear us apart.

From all of this we can draw three conclusions:

  1. Certain technologies, like fusion power or immortality are so great that when they arrive we will pass into “The Future”—the end of the old world and the beginning of the new.
  2. Other technologies like nuclear weapons or fossil fuel extraction could be so bad that we also pass into “The Future”, but rather than a utopia it’s an apocalypse.
  3. It may not be obvious which category a technology falls into until significant time has passed, enough time that it may be difficult to undo the harmful effects.

I mentioned my religious background and in religion they have a whole discipline around discussing the end of the world. It’s called eschatology, and I’ve decided to be an eschatologist. But rather than view things through strictly a religious lens, I intend to engage with the entire universe of potential endings, some good, most bad, many subtle—with a focus on the subtle, bad ones.

Technology allows us to move with greater and greater speed, but it’s not always clear where we’re headed in such a hurry, and the road ahead is treacherous. When I first started writing on this topic, back in 2016, I was inspired by a verse in the Book of Jeremiah, chapter 8, verse 20:

The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved.

My hope is that none of those three things are true. My worry is that all of them are.


This is part of a new project I’m doing, a short monthly newsletter. I hope it will be the means of bringing my content to a broader audience. If you liked it consider signing up for the newsletter or sharing it with someone. As number of subscribers is something of a success metric these days, it would be nice if you did.


Parenting, Wildfires, and Politics

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I- The Last Psychiatrist

For many years, in various contexts and in various forms, people have been recommending I read The Last Psychiatrist. A blog that ran from 2005-2014 before suddenly stopping. It was rumored that the sudden end was because someone had threatened to get the author in trouble with his work, or perhaps he did get in trouble at his work, but was able to negotiate leaving up the archives. In any event, I recently added it to the list of tabs I open every morning to start the day and, finally, I’ve gradually been working my way through it. It is quite good, and I can see why people have been recommending it for so long. Thus far I have particularly liked his three part series, The Most Important Article On Psychiatry You Will Ever Read. Perhaps, since I brought it up, you’re wondering what makes this article so important? Well it’s all about how adding more of a drug frequently doesn’t increase whatever that drug’s initial effect was. That in fact adding more might produce entirely different effects, because the drug will have saturated the initial receptors and adding more causes it to bind to different receptors causing, correspondingly, different effects. As a more simple example: doubling the dosage does not double the effect it may give you a completely different effect. 

However important and fascinating that subject is, for this post I’d like to use a different observation of his as a jumping off point for expanding on some of the themes I’ve explored in my last couple of posts. This observation of his concerned parenting, particularly parents who are psychiatrists. 

SOME psychiatrists think/try to do something noble (criticize behavior and not the child itself) but they are HUMAN, and get tired. They will eventually get angry, and, from a kid’s perspective, when the parent gets angry is what matters. What did I do to piss Dad off?

The opposite of this, call it the non-psychiatrist parent, is calm, then gets a little angry, a little more angry, a little more angry, then yells, screams. There’s a build up. A few years of this and you realize that there are some things that make Dad a little angry, and other things that make him really angry. There’s normal, varying levels of human emotion to different situations.

But the child of a psychiatrist doesn’t get that. He gets binary emotional states. “Lying is not acceptable behavior.” Later: “Yelling loudly is not acceptable behavior.” Later: “Picking your nose is not acceptable behavior.” Later: “Stealing is not acceptable behavior.” What’s the relative value? A kid has no idea– he thinks the value is decided by Dad, not intrinsic to the behavior. “Eating cookies before dinner is not acceptable behavior.” Later: “Kicking your brother is not acceptable behavior.” 

Ok, now here it comes:

After seven or eight or twenty five “not acceptable behavior” monotones, Dr. Dad can’t take it anymore; he explodes. “Goddamn it! What the hell is the matter with you?! What are you doing?!!” All the anger and affect gets released, finally. The problem– the exact problem– is this: the explosion of anger came at something relatively trivial. Maybe the kid spilled the milk.

So now the four year old concludes that the worst thing he did all day was spilled the milk– not kicking his brother, or lying, or stealing. Had he not spilled that milk, Dad wouldn’t have gotten angry. 

I imagine most people understand that this sort of radically inconsistent parenting is bad. But it’s important to recognize that it’s not just the explosion at the end that’s bad; to recognize that the answer is not to be calm all the time. And it’s not merely because it’s impossible (though it is). It’s because the calm, in the end, is just as bad. The explosion is misleading because it lays far too much emphasis on the spilled milk. The calm is bad because it doesn’t lay any emphasis on anything. Picking your nose provokes exactly the same response as stealing.

If this problem were isolated to just some portion of parents who also happen to be psychiatrists it wouldn’t be worth bringing up. But I think such attitudes are found among a large number of parents in general. And even beyond that the ideas and practices motivating these parents have seeped into institutions, policies, behavior, and culture. That it’s a deep ideological vein running through modern western culture at large. Despite this ubiquity there’s no easy label for it. However, despite this difficulty, that’s precisely what this post sets out to do. To help with that, let’s turn to another example, one that would initially appear to have nothing to do with parenting.

II- California Wildfires

Last year was so full of catastrophes that the California wildfires, which might normally have dominated the news, now seem largely forgotten. Perhaps not by people in California, but with everything else that’s been happening, I doubt many outside of the state have given them more than a moment’s thought over the last few months. But, again, that’s just a measure of how relatively bad everything else has been. The California wildfires were objectively terrible, even if they did produce some truly spectacular pictures. Generally, when something is that bad you look for ways to stop it from happening. Which takes us to the subject of wildfire control and suppression.

This is not the first time we’ve covered that subject in this space. It’s come up a few times in the past, including most recently in December of 2018 at the end of modern California’s  deadliest and most destructive fire season. (2020 was twice as big in terms of acres burned, but lower in terms of damage and fatalities.) In that post I mostly looked at the debate over whether more logging would have helped, a subject which, even after 2020, is still very controversial, but what seems less controversial is the idea of controlled burns. 

As most people who’ve paid any attention to the subject are aware of, the problem of wildfires, while multifaceted, can actually be made much worse by the process of fighting those same fires. This seems counterintuitive and indeed for many years, the U.S. Forest Service had a very aggressive approach, unofficially known as the 10 a.m. policy, which directed that wildfires be extinguished no later than the morning after their discovery. As you can imagine, throughout most of history, forest fires were not extinguished by the next morning, and moreover forests have not evolved with Forest Service policy in mind. Predictably, at least with hindsight, this approach resulted in many second order effects, similar to those created by the discipline of scientific forestry I mentioned at the beginning of the month in my review of Seeing Like a State. In both cases it’s clear that when you start to mess with the way forests operate naturally you end up with numerous unintended consequences. In this case aggressively fighting fires ended up creating at least two consequences of note: First, it resulted in an accumulation of deadwood because there were no fires anymore to periodically burn it out. Second, the population of the forest changed from a small number of large trees (30 or 40 per acre) to a large number of small trees (1000 to 2000 per acre) because fires used to periodically clear out smaller trees as well.

Both of these together mean that fires, when they do happen, can end up being extraordinary destructive, with both far more fuel available from the accumulated deadwood than would normally be the case and smaller trees which catch fire more easily and burn hotter (as anyone who has started a fire with kindling can attest to.) Additionally large trees which have spent hundreds of years surviving normal fires are no match for these super fires fueled by the proliferation of smaller trees and accumulated deadwood.

Obviously there are many ways to deal with this problem. There’s the logging I focused on in my previous post. Also you can be less aggressive in fighting fires. For example, if fires start naturally, you could let them burn. There are, however, several problems with this. To begin with we’re long past the point where we are dealing with “natural” fires. Most fires are going to be too hot and destructive to just leave alone. Also people find it extraordinarily difficult to not intervene. (Which is one of the first hints to where all this is headed.) Which takes us to…

III- Controlled Burns

As an alternative to just letting the fire burn as it naturally would you could try and manage the burn, not immediately put it out, but not let it get out of control either. All of the same difficulties present themselves along with a host of additional difficulties. By the time you discover the fire it may already be too late. It’s probably fire season and there are numerous fires to fight and we can’t spare the manpower to carefully manage them, but rather we need to extinguish them as soon as possible. Also fires are most likely to happen when conditions are dry and there’s more than the average amount of fuel which is the worst time to attempt any management of them.

The final option is scheduled, intentionally set, controlled burns, and in the wake of 4.4 million acres burned, $12 billion in property damage and 31 fatalities in 2020 (on top of 2 million acres, $26 billion and 103 fatalities in 2018) most people are asking why we don’t do more of them. Or as this article from ProPublica puts it, They Know How to Prevent Megafires. Why Won’t Anybody Listen?

This article contains a lot of interesting and frustrating observations, but let’s start with the answer of why there aren’t more scheduled, controlled burns. To begin with the article mentions how lucrative and exciting seasonal firefighting is, but:

By comparison, planning a prescribed burn is cumbersome. A wildfire is categorized as an emergency, meaning firefighters pull down hazard pay and can drive a bulldozer into a protected wilderness area where regulations typically prohibit mountain bikes. Planned burns are human-made events and as such need to follow all environmental compliance rules. That includes the Clean Air Act, which limits the emission of PM 2.5, or fine particulate matter, from human-caused events. In California, those rules are enforced by CARB, the state’s mighty air resources board, and its local affiliates. “I’ve talked to many prescribed fire managers, particularly in the Sierra Nevada over the years, who’ve told me, ‘Yeah, we’ve spent thousands and thousands of dollars to get all geared up to do a prescribed burn,’ and then they get shut down.” Maybe there’s too much smog that day from agricultural emissions in the Central Valley, or even too many locals complain that they don’t like smoke. Reforms after the epic 2017 and 2018 fire seasons led to some loosening of the CARB/prescribed fire rules, but we still have a long way to go.

Of course it’s worth pointing out that the impact to air quality from what actually happened last year is vastly worse than whatever would have resulted from a controlled burn (and the reason the pictures are so breathtaking). Which presumably means that in the end, those who are worried about clean air made the wrong call. 

I mentioned at the beginning that I was going to be drawing on my two previous posts. I’ve already made a connection to my discussion of Seeing Like a State, now it’s time to draw on my last post, Everything Should Be Made as Simple as Possible, but No Simpler. In that post I described three hierarchies of systems:

  1. Natural
  2. Legible
  3. Controlled

Let’s go through each of these with respect to wildfires:

Most people, including myself, are kind of fuzzy on how wildfires worked in a “state of nature”, and in retrospect I was negligent in not paying more attention to it when I last visited this issue. At the time I assumed, now that the problems of being too aggressive with wildfire suppression were blindingly obvious, that things have gotten better. That we had switched to focusing just on fires that were going to threaten houses. But the ProPublica article claims otherwise:

We keep doing overzealous fire suppression across California landscapes where the fire poses little risk to people and structures.

Well that seems misguided, but of greatest interest was the gap between where we are and where things were in the “unspoiled” past.

Academics believe that between 4.4 million and 11.8 million acres burned each year in prehistoric California. Between 1982 and 1998, California’s agency land managers burned, on average, about 30,000 acres a year. Between 1999 and 2017, that number dropped to an annual 13,000 acres.

So not only has the acreage of prescribed burns been going down over the last couple of decades, but also, even as bad as last year was, it was on the very lowest end of the estimate for the number of acres which burned historically. 

I assume that comparing last year’s fires with historical fires is something of an apples and oranges comparison. Since last year’s fires were burning in areas with the aforementioned accumulation of fuel, while historical fires would have presumably been milder. Though if we’re trying to look on the bright side, we should at least be able to say we met our historical fire budget last year. But it’s also clear that it would be unthinkable to do that every year. Which is to say, even if we hadn’t drastically altered the makeup of the forests, the idea returning to the natural system is ludicrous. 

Even if by this measurement we did meet our “burn budget” for 2020, we’re still left with the question of what we’re supposed to do in all the other years? The gap between 13,000 acres and 4.4 million acres (to say nothing of 11.8 million) seems entirely unbridgeable. But we should still try, and this takes us to the other two systems: legible and controlled. Let’s start with controlled.

I would argue that when the ProPublica article describes the system where thousands of dollars can be spent preparing for a burn only to have it stopped because of air quality issues or complaints from local homeowners that this is the controlled system. The system which, as described in my last post, consists of layering on more rules: “If people are worried about the discretionary use of power, you need to make sure the decision-makers go through an elaborate compliance checklist.” Such a controlled system is exactly what you would expect from California, which leads all other states in the number of regulations it imposes. And also, just as you might expect, this system is not working. So if a natural system is inconceivable and a controlled system doesn’t work, what might a legible system look like?

I don’t know that I have the requisite expertise to answer that, and it’s somewhat tangential to the actual point of this post, but as long as we’re here I might as well offer an opinion. To begin with I think incentives should be better aligned such that more money and prestige is available for prescribed fires i.e. more focus on preventing less on curing. And further that prescribed fires should be exempt from air quality regulations, or at least the bar for preventing them should be much, much higher. Finally I would urge people to remember that a legible system is not the perfectly just system, it’s not even the perfect system, it’s just a system that will get used. But it turns out, somewhat paradoxically, that making things simple can be quite complicated.

IV- Our Other Attempts at Controlling Nature

I have spent so much time on the subject of managing wildfires because it’s fascinating, and also because I assume that many people, after reading my review of Seeing Like a State and hearing about the scientific forestry debacle of late 18th century Prussia, would assume that we can’t possibly be doing something similar, and yet, the management of wildfires would seem to be a failure of almost exactly the same sort, going so far as to also center on controlling the natural life cycle of forests. Does the discussion serve any purpose beyond that? Well while I have already admitted that I don’t have the expertise to talk about a legible system for fighting fires, I am very interested in fighting political unrest. And I sense there are parallels between what’s happening to our country, what the Last Psychiatrist described as happening with parents, and what’s happening with wildfires.

In the case of parenting, interestingly enough, the parent stands in for both those perpetrating the unrest and those trying to control the unrest. You might say that the parent is the country while the children he inconsistently parents are nature, and after attempting to maintain calm for so long, now we’re at the end of our rope, where all it takes is split milk to set us off. That we now suffer paroxysms of rage around mask wearing. And even the other stuff, like the actual pandemic, racial injustice, and election malfeasance are things we dealt with much more calmly in the past, even though it was all happening on a much larger scale. Both parenting and wildfires suffer from trying to impose too much control.

The parent assumes that if they are always in control that they’ll achieve better outcomes, but they can’t always be in control, and on the rare occasions when they’re not it wipes out all the benefits (which were questionable already) of those periods when they were calm. The Forest Service assumed that if they immediately took control of fires that they would have better outcomes, sadly it worked exactly the opposite. Now we’re in a situation where we have some ideas for making it better, but it’s not just wildfires we’re trying to control, we also want to control air quality and public opinion. So what are we trying to control in politics? Well similarly, a lot of things, but foremost among them, it appears that we are trying to control bad opinions, all the way down to the level of microaggressions. We don’t just want to keep our child from stealing we want to keep them from rolling their eyes behind our backs as well. That, as I mentioned when reviewing Seeing Like a State, we’re trying to get rid of all of the awful underbrush and create forests with straight lines of perfect trees.

Now perhaps even though we haven’t succeeded in doing this as parents, or with fighting fires, that we’ll nevertheless succeed at doing this politically. Perhaps, having driven bad thoughts from mainstream media to Fox, and more recently from Fox to OANN and NewsMax, that we are just one step away from driving them out of the country entirely. Perhaps having driven “the crazies” from Twitter to Parler and now having shut down Parler, we can declare victory. We have extinguished the big wildfire and all future wildfires will be small and easily managed. Society has regained its calm and now all issues, including our misbehaving children, will be treated with dispassion. It’s always possible this is how the rest of the decade will go, but this doesn’t seem to be how things are playing out. Merely expressing disapproval for certain opinions doesn’t make them go away. The measures which we have adopted may slow the transmission of such ideas, or peel off individuals whose fidelity was only lukewarm, but as I pointed out, the underbrush that’s left will be of the hardiest and most noxious varieties. And if it gets even the smallest opening it will overwhelm your carefully curated rows of trees. Or start a new fire in some undetected part of the forest that will be raging out of control by the time you discover it.

Trump is the perfect example of this effect. Going into 2016 it seemed that things were calm. And all manner of bad thoughts like racism and being against immigration had been banished from the halls of government, even among Republicans. And when Trump came along the idea that he would win the Republican Nomination to say nothing of the presidency was considered akin to his chances of playing in the NBA Finals. But as it turned out, it was a hot, dry summer in California, and over the years a huge amount of deadwood had accumulated and Trump was not just a match, he was a flamethrower, and more importantly a flamethrower who got 74 million votes. And perhaps we just need to pass more laws, and kick more social media platforms off of AWS, and the calm we hope for will return, and those 74 million people will vote for Mitt Romney in 2024. I doubt it, and is that more likely if Romney runs on the same platform as he ran on in 2012? Or is it more likely if he adopts some of Trump’s policies, like building the wall, but perhaps without Trump’s special brand of flamboyance? Should we prefer this Romney to Don Jr. running? What exactly are we hoping will happen in 2024?

All of which is to say, I’m not arguing that the wildfire currently raging is good. I’m just arguing that it exists, and that previous methods of fighting it have very probably made it worse. And now we need to ask, what represents a prescribed burn in this analogy? What would represent good parenting? This is a vast topic, and deserves more space than I have left, but let me just offer one example. It seems clear to me that in the past free speech has served in this role. And I’m fully aware that this time when we prepared to do our prescribed burn, as we have in the past, we found that Mark Zuckerburg had poured gasoline on all the accumulated deadwood and Jack Dorsey had used a helicopter to scatter cherry bombs in the area. And as a consequence, free speech isn’t looking so hot (get it?). But we still need a system. We have ruled out allowing nature to operate unchecked, and on the opposite side our attempts at a controlled solution, at extinguishing all fires as soon as they appear is even worse.

What we need is a legible system, and as it turns out free speech is legible. Under the three standards I brought up in the last post it is both accessible, accountable and achievable. Though, as with the other systems we looked at, the accountability does need some work. And insofar as the internet has changed things it has strengthened accessibility at the expense of accountability. And yes, free speech is another fire, but the point of all of this is that we need small, manageable fires if we want to keep giant conflagrations from consuming everything. 


Lest there be any confusion, my parents were fantastic. I was a little shit, but they were great and continue to be great. In fact they even donate my patreon. If you want to be as great as they are, consider doing the same. 


Everything Should Be Made as Simple as Possible, but No Simpler

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I.

My father spent many years working for himself as a management consultant. He wasn’t one of these people that advised CEOs on vision, instead his specialty was shiftwork. Companies that operated around the clock, 24 hours a day seven days a week. Quite frequently he ended up having to work with unions which was its own special brand of crazy, particularly if layoffs were involved.

During the winter of 1990, after the holiday rush was over, it was my turn to get laid off. Beyond all of the normal annoyances which accompany getting laid off, I was also annoyed because I felt that I had been laid off in favor of people who were worse than me at the job, but had greater seniority. So I asked my dad why companies did it that way. He explained: because it was a system which was easy to understand for all of the parties. Competence is fuzzy, and it can be hard to judge even if you’re not the person being judged, and no one has an accurate view of their own competence, but seniority is a bright line. Even if it has to come down to the difference of a few days, it’s clear who’s been working there longer. It’s clear to management, it’s clear to the person being laid off, and it’s clear to that person’s wife or husband. That last bit may be the most important of all, your significant other isn’t going to get angry about your lack of seniority, but they may get mad if they feel you were slacking off or alternatively if there was some favoritism involved. And, as we’ll get into, managing anger is a pretty important part of any process.

II.

Last week I was reminded of this story by an article Matthew Yglesias posted to the subscribers of his new newsletter, Slow Boring. The article was titled Making policy for a low-trust world. (Fortunately this was one of his public posts so you can easily read the whole thing if you want.) His subject is pretty clear from the title, and it touches on something real and pressing (moreso after the events of the 6th) how do you carry out policy when people don’t trust those in power? 

Yglesias offers up two options:

  1. Layer on more rules: “If people are worried about the discretionary use of power, you need to make sure the decision-makers go through an elaborate compliance checklist.”
  2. Fewer and far simpler rules or what Yglesias calls “it does exactly what it says on the tin” approach.

Yglesias favors that latter and offers up three steps for doing that:

  • It’s easy for everyone, whether they agree with you or disagree with you, to understand what it is you say you are doing.
  • It’s easy for everyone to see whether or not you are, in fact, doing what you said you would do.
  • It’s easy for you and your team to meet the goal of doing the thing that you said you would do.

The shorthand for these steps might be accessibility, accountability and achievability. (Yeah, I got cute and chose three words that began with “a”.) And Yglesias goes on to show what this looks like when applied to vaccine prioritization (he’s been a big proponent of simply prioritizing by age), the fiscal stimulus/PPP program, quantitative easing, and finally local infrastructure. It’s good stuff, (Tyler Cowen called it the best short essay of the year so far) and as I said it’s not paywalled so you should just go read it.

All that said, I want to take things in a somewhat different, and broader direction. First I should mention that I was saying something very similar in a post from 2017. (Truly I was ahead of my time.) Without getting too deep into the weeds (for that read the original post, I think it holds up really well) I was comparing the book Rationality: AI to Zombies (RAZ) something of a bible for rationalists and bayesians with the actual Bible. And basically arguing that RAZ and rationality in general were examples of Yglesias’ first option for dealing with the world. While they aren’t exactly making a compliance checklist (though I think some of that is in RAZ) they are trying to craft a decision framework for every eventuality. Contrariwise the Bible is an example of the second option. Obviously a totalizing religion is going to have a hard time always complying with all three of Yglesias’ steps, but it is pretty rare for someone to say they don’t understand Christianity (step 1-accessibility). And most people (especially non-Christians) feel perfectly comfortable identifying if someone is being Christian (step 2-accountability). Most of the trouble comes in the execution (step 3-achievability) which does create some unfortunate hypocrisy, but hypocrisy is not actually as bad as people want to claim.

All of the steps are important, but as you might have already guessed step 1, understanding the plan, is the most important not only because the remaining steps build on top of it, but also it’s the chief thing differentiating the two options. And it’s not even all of step one, within that step there is one word that’s more important than all the rest… “everyone”. In my aforementioned post, I pointed out that this was a key difference between rationality and Christianity. As an example of what I mean by this the story of someone in jail converting to Christianity or some other religion (see Malcolm X) is so common as to be a cliche. The story of someone reading the 2300 pages of RAZ and converting to bayesianism is so counterintuitive that I’m sure they could make a TV show out of it. Something similar to My Name is Earl (which was cancelled too soon by the way). In other words it’s not enough that your system is understood by bureaucrats, or people who’ve read the right hundred posts on social media (or 4chan) or the right 2300 page book. It has to be something everyone (or at least a percentage in the high 90’s) can understand.

III.

What’s interesting about Yglesias’ essay is that, despite the timing, he didn’t apply this framework to the election, which, for me, is the obvious place to do so. And you can see that this was basically what I was getting at in my post Voting as a Proxy For Power. I offered up three potential systems for deciding who had won. Which, if we restate them in Yglesias’ framework might look like this:

System 1: Elections as they are supposed to work

  1. Accessibility: We’re going to count up all the votes in the individual states, assign the electoral votes from that state to the one who got the most individual votes, and then whoever got the most electoral votes is president.
  2. Accountability: Each party gets to have observers at critical locations to confirm whether we did the above. (I understand that there are disputes about how well this worked, and in general step 2 in this system is weaker than I would like. But in theory counting votes should be something that can be transparent.)
  3. Achievability: Counting votes is a relatively straightforward exercise, and while it’s not unheard of for people to have questions (see hanging chads) nearly everyone feels confident about their ability to do it, and in fact the people who pushed back most vigorously on accusations that the election was stolen were frequently the election officials

System 2: Voting as a proxy for power

  1. Accessibility: We’re going to have a smooth, non-violent transition of power, as opposed to what happened historically.
  2. Accountability: We’re going to use voting and democracy to grant legitimacy to the person taking, or keeping that power. In a way that’s convincing (particularly to the elites in the media and government who are custodians of the power) even if it’s not perfect.
  3. Achievability: Everyone has done a good job if power is peacefully and smoothly transferred.

Once again the most difficulty comes on step two, but as you can see, this system is arguably actually even simpler and more straightforward than the first. Now let’s look at what Trump and his supporters actually tried:

System 3: Overturn the election by any means necessary

  1. Accessibility: We are going to get to the true winner of the election by uncovering proof, filing lawsuits, creating spreadsheets, tweeting out accusations, spreading innuendo, and crafting conspiracies. As a result of one or all of these plans the election will be given to Trump by the courts, or the state legislatures, or the Insurrection Act, or the military, or Mike Pence, or occupying the capital, or Trump himself in some bold stroke we didn’t even see.
  2. Accountability: Everyone can tell that it’s still working as long as any of the foregoing still has the slightest chance of working, and if all of them have been eliminated, then Trump supporters will provide you with six other possibilities you’ve never even heard of which are the real way to tell that it’s working, and unless every one of these possibilities has been made physically impossible by the laws of nature the plan is still working.
  3. Achievability: People working in this system should: Stop the count (except for a few days in AZ, in which case you should keep counting); release the Kraken; wait for the courts; wait for the state legislatures; watch Mike Pence; disregard everything that happened before January 6th (it’s all happening after that); gather in DC; storm the Capitol; wait for Trump’s instructions on Twitter; realize the video of Trump conceding on Twitter is a fake; and finally pay attention to the Emergency Broadcast System.

As you can see despite cramming this into Yglesias’ framework this is the first option he talked about, the idea of layering on more rules, though in this case they’re layering on every conceivable option so that no avenue for victory is left unexplored. And the point is, it’s so easy to convince yourself that this system has to work. That surely if you just account for every eventuality, mistakes won’t be made. Or if you pursue every possible avenue for victory one of them has to work out. But this is one of those times when no plan survives contact with the enemy. Your rules, checklists, and plans don’t exist in isolation, at some point they have to be understood and implemented. When the rubber actually hits the road, the additional complexity is a liability not an asset.

As we have seen in the days since the election, you can be the biggest Trump supporter there is, firmly believing in both his genius and in the fact that the election was stolen, and it still should be obvious at this point that the third system was never going to work because it entirely ignored the all important task of being something everyone could understand. And not merely does it need to be something your supporters can understand, it needs to be straightforward to understand and implement for all of the organizations you need to have on your side to be President when the smoke clears (regardless of whether it’s an election or a revolution/coup). The military can easily understand systems one and two, but even if you assume that they’re mostly on Trump’s side, how are they going to enact system three? Are you sure they’re not going to be confused by Christopher Miller, the acting Secretary of Defence, the guy Trump put in after the election (according to his supporters as part of the whole secret plan) saying:

I strongly condemn these acts of violence against our democracy. I, and the people I lead in the Department of Defense, continue to perform our duties in accordance with our oath of office, and will execute the time-honored peaceful transition of power to President-elect Biden on January 20.

How is anyone trying to execute on system three not going to be confused by that? Trump and his followers have weaponized complexity, but they haven’t figured out how to target anything with it yet.

Okay, as you might be able to tell I’m a little annoyed. And to be fair complexity has been weaponized for a long time, it might in fact be a serviceable definition of postmodernism. But we’ve certainly reached some kind of landmark.

Before I move on, a few notes about stability and history. First off I think we’ve had stability for so long that most people don’t realize how bad a non-peaceful transfer of power is. So let me be clear, I have strong misgivings about Biden, and Democrats, and progressives, and wokeism, and policies like student loan forgiveness, and reparations, etc. etc. But I would take Biden with a filibuster proof Senate majority composed entirely of Andrea Ocasio Cortez clones over full on civil war which ends up being as bad or worse than the last one. And I’d certainly take what we ended up with (President Biden and Democratic control of the Senate) over a repeat of the violence of the late 60’s/early 70s. For example 1972 when there were 1900 domestic bombings. Now unfortunately we may get both but I don’t think storming the Capitol made either Biden’s presidency or domestic terror less likely. 

On the other side of the coin people forget how difficult it is to actually pull off a coup or a revolution. I think people imagine that the French Revolution, for example, looked similar to last Wednesday’s march on the Capitol. That some people spontaneously rose up, and the next thing you know the whole government had changed. One day there was the monarchy and the next there wasn’t. But in reality the revolution was largely a very gradual process whereby the Estates General was replaced by the National Assembly which was replaced by the National Constituent Assembly which was replaced by the Legislative Assembly, and so forth and so on until eventually ten years later you get Napoleon, and for the first three years of that period the King was still around.

Mostly I point all of this out to add another angle on how dumb Trump’s plan really was. Not only was it very unlikely to work, it would have been horrible if it had.

IV.

Perhaps, despite its appropriateness, you’ve noticed that I’ve avoided using the word “legible”, as in “Yglesias is contending that policies need to be legible”, which I’ve expanded to the idea that “the transfer of power should be legible”. Even though it’s basically the perfect word to describe what he and I are talking about. I’ve avoided using that word because this post unfortunately fell immediately after my review of Seeing Like a State by James C. Scott. which is critical of the idea of trying to impose legibility on a natural system. And thus that word, right at this moment, has some baggage, and I wanted to make sure I’d laid the foundation of my thinking before I introduced it. But I do think we should consider Scott and the claims made in Seeing Like a State when discussing Yglesias’ framework, because it’s important to identify when “legibility” is a problem and when it’s an asset. 

Perhaps the biggest thing to keep in mind is that there’s a great deal of difference between efforts to make the citizenry legible to the state as opposed to making the state legible to the citizenry. In the former case the benefits accrue to the state, and in the latter they accrue to the citizenry and I’m almost exclusively talking about the latter.

Additionally, legibility is one of those things where you should apply as much as is needed but no more. In a sense it’s closely related to the idea of subsidiarity, that programs should be implemented as close to the problem and the people affected as possible. Legibility should be as close as possible to the way nature already works. 

It might help to think of there being three possible levels:

  1. Natural
  2. Legible
  3. Controlled

As it says in the Federalist papers, “If men were angels, no government would be necessary. If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary.” Which get’s at the first and third levels. If men could be trusted to behave without any government that would be the best solution, and this is the state of nature as described by Scott, and the philosophy of anarchists and libertarians (though to different degrees). If on the other hand angels were to govern men, then we could give them control of everything knowing that we would never need to second guess them, and it wouldn’t matter how complicated those controls became. But since there are no angels in sight, the middle ends up being the goldilocks spot described by Yglesias where there are rules and policies, but they’re easy to understand. They’re legible but not complicated.

As I was working through this post it occurred to me that Yglesias’ framework can be applied to the recent reckoning on race, though I’m sure he’d probably rather not go there, and even I am only mentioning it as an observation rather than any kind of recommendation. 

What I’ve noticed is that as things have progressed since the death of George Floyd, the complexities of race have become very apparent. A few examples: There’s been a tendency to separate people as being either white or people of color (POC) and yet Asians who would be considered POC have much higher median household incomes than white americans. Affirmative action largely benefits people who are already in the upper middle class rather than minorities that are truly disadvantaged. When it comes to reparations there are all sorts of complexities. Does Oprah get reparations? Do people who recently immigrated from Africa, and have no enslaved ancestors get reparations? And what about the Native Americans?

I’m not saying these problems are insuperable, I’m just pointing out that they lead to exactly the sort of rules layering that Yglesias pointed to as being bad. On the other hand, the old standard of being completely colorblind is legible, straightforward and a perfect example of Yglesias’ criteria. But as I said I’m merely observing, not recommending.

V.

After taking the Yglesias framework up a level, and using it to consider the recent unpleasantness (i.e. from policies to the choosing of people to enact those policies). I think we can take it even one step higher, to the level of values.

As I was working my way through all of this I was reminded of my post on the justice/mercy dichotomy. As usual when I wander this far afield everything I say is pretty speculative, but I once again see a situation where there’s too much focus on justice and not nearly enough focus on mercy. To begin with, while I understand it’s hard for some people to understand, the riot that happened last week, insofar as it had a motive other than “riot tourism” (I forget where I saw that phrase but it seems apt) was motivated by justice. All or nearly all of those people are convinced, deep in their bones, that the election was stolen. That Trump actually won, but the Deep State contrived to make it appear as if he had lost. That if they had been able to sway enough of the senators to change the outcome of the electoral vote counting and give Trump the win, that this would have been just and proper. Now you can go back and read the previous post if you want an explanation for all the reasons why the modern world has made this path particularly easy to follow, and not just for Trump Supporters. So to an extent everyone is obsessed with justice. The problem is that justice and mercy are opposed. You can’t have both. And what we needed last week, and really since the election is more mercy.

Of course calls for the left/Biden Administration/institutions to be merciful to Trump supporters are legion. And while I think that’s an area where we should err on the side of mercy, in this space I’m going to argue that actually it’s Trump and his supporters who need to be more merciful. I understand that some people don’t think that’s possible. They think mercy is something that can only be granted by the people in power to the people who aren’t in power. But in reality mercy can operate even if you’re the weaker party. As long as you have some power you can decide to forgo using it and exercise mercy. Even if you have less power than your opponent, as long as you have any power you can use it to cause harm. Deciding to not to is an act of mercy. As such, conceding is an act of mercy, directed both at the other side (even though they won) and at the nation as a whole. And it’s actually more important if you think justice has not been served. Anyone can be merciful if they think they’re in the wrong, it’s being merciful when you think justice is on your side that poses all of the difficulties. 

So what does all of this have to do with legibility vs. complexity? I would argue that mercy is legible. Forgiveness is easy to understand. On the other hand justice, true justice, is enormously complicated. And I’m not arguing that we should abandon our quest for justice. I’m just pointing out that when Yglesias was calling for a framework that could easily be understood that he was also calling for mercy. 

As I’ve said this is all on the highly speculative end of things. And I can completely understand that in calling for mercy, particularly from the weaker party, I am in a sense calling for people to accept some injustice, and of the worst kind too: that committed by the strong against the weak. But perhaps, by flipping the framing such that Trump supporters are the ones who are being asked to meekly submit to injustices (whether perceived or real) and to do so for the good of the country, those most inclined to object to my conclusion might be induced to see that it contains a sliver of wisdom.


Perhaps the appeals I make at the end of every post also suffer from the weakness of being too complicated, so let me try Yglesias’ framework:

  1. I’m asking for money so I can prove to my wife that I’m not wasting my time.
  2. You’ll know it’s working by my periodic mentions of having a wife in the present tense.
  3. You can execute on this plan by going to https://patreon.com/jeremiah820 and clicking on one of the “Join” buttons.

The 10 Books I Finished in December (Along With One I Didn’t)

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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Or download the MP3


  1. Seeing Like a State: How Certain Schemes to Improve the Human Condition Have Failed by: James C. Scott
  2. Status Anxiety by: Alain de Botton
  3. Countdown 1945: The Extraordinary Story of the 116 Days that Changed the World by: Chris Wallace
  4. Enemy At the Gates by: William Craig
  5. Necroscope by: Brian Lumley
  6. Draft No. 4: On the Writing Process by: John McPhee
  7. Bang For Your Buck by: Stefan Gasic
  8. The Darkest Winter by: Nick Johns
  9. C. S. Lewis Essay Collection & Other Short Pieces by: C. S. Lewis
  10. Book of Mormon Made Harder by: James E. Faulconer
  11. The Theological Foundations of the Mormon Religion by: Sterling M. McMurrin

Thanks to all the people who reached out and offered their well wishes about my mother. That was exceptionally kind. She’s doing much better, and has been home for awhile, though she’s still on a feeding tube because the doctors aren’t convinced that her pancreas has completely calmed down yet. But everything still seems headed in the right direction, so that’s good. And thus far she’s been able to avoid getting COVID which may be the most important thing of all. 

It’s the New Year, which is the generally accepted time for making resolutions. If you caught my last post you saw that I’m making some changes to the blog in general, but this seems the space to talk about changes I’m making to my reading ambitions. My first goal is to not start any new series until I’ve finished some of the one’s I’ve already started. Second, I’ve realized that, when studying history, it’s useful to really immerse yourself in a particular time in history or a particular historical thread. That it’s by really diving deep that you finally see patterns and people. And so while this resolution won’t preclude reading other history, I thought it might be nice to choose a historical focus for each year, something to really sink my teeth into. Last year basically ended up being World War I. This year I was thinking about doing the Romanovs. In particular, Robert K. Massie, has a four volume series running from Peter the Great up through the revolution that looks quite fantastic. I really enjoyed his books Dreadnought and Castles of Steel about the British and German naval rivalry up to and through World War I, so I’m sure I’ll enjoy this other series as well. (And yes I’m aware that this is a new series which contradicts my first resolution, but this is one of those cases where the specific overrides the general.)


I- Eschatological Reviews

Seeing Like a State: How Certain Schemes to Improve the Human Condition Have Failed

by: James C. Scott

446 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

This is a book about “high modernity”, the idea that through the powers of pure reason we can figure out the best way to do things like: build a city, grow food, or manage the citizenry. In particular how these ideas and tasks are implemented via state power.

Who should read this book?

This is a pretty dry book, and while the content is super important, I’m not convinced it’s necessary to read the whole thing in order to absorb that importance. Scott Alexander of Slate Star Codex did a fantastic review and I would recommend reading that, and hopefully my review, and only then if your curiosity and passion have not yet been quenched go on to read the entire book. 

General Thoughts

This book, with its descriptions of the various methods governments have applied to manage an essentially chaotic world, seems to follow naturally from the hypothesis that the modern world is suffering from an overactive left hemisphere, which appeared previously in this space, when I discussed another book, The Master and His Emissary, by Iain McGilchrist. That book and the associated hypothesis are not mentioned by Scott, though if you keep that hypothesis in mind when reading it, Seeing Like a State ends up looking very much like a catalog of symptoms to go along with McGilchrist’s underlying disease. An exhaustive description of the damage that has been wrought by an overactive left hemisphere in the form of social engineering. Such social engineering is generally implemented through the mechanism of the state, and can be broken out into four parts:

  • A desire for legibility: This desire mostly comes because the government needs to raise money, and that’s much easier to do if you know what money there is and who has it.
  • The faith that you can make things legible: This is the essence of High Modernism, which Scott defines as “a muscular confidence in science and technical progress”.
  • The ability to enforce legibility: The existence of a strong state is necessary to even start the process.
  • A society which is too weak to resist the foregoing: Which seems like a repeat of the last point, but these efforts still work best if you have a thoroughly exhausted or cowed population, say after a big war.

The problem with all of these efforts, beyond just the violations of liberty they entail, is that it drives people to focus on those areas which can easily be made legible, i.e. measured, while ignoring those things that can’t. At its most arrogant, this is because the architects of these solutions are convinced that no measurement is necessary because through the powers of pure reason all of the problems have been solved. Those who are more humble recognize the need for measurement, but still fail to recognize both the limitations of their measurements and the way in which those measurements distort the endeavor.

All of these factors are illustrated in the example Scott opens with: scientific forestry, as practiced by Prussia and Saxony in the late eighteenth-century. At the time timber was of surpassing importance, and used for all sorts of things from fuel to ship-building. Recognizing this importance the government felt that they could increase the supply of timber by making the forests more scientific, i.e. legible. To do this they reduced everything about the forest to a single goal: “deliver the greatest possible constant volume of wood”. (Emphasis original) This focus resulted in clearing the old forest and replacing it with neat and orderly rows of Norway spruces or Scotch pines—since those trees (naively) best met their metric. As you can imagine this system ignored all of the many other things the peasants used the forest for: grazing, food, raw materials (like thatch for roofs) and medicines. 

Eschatological Implications

But more importantly it ignored and disrupted the ecology of the forest. This disruption didn’t happen immediately. In fact, it took about 100 years for the full extent of the disruption to manifest. Initially, the whole thing appeared to be a resounding success. The first generation of these “scientifically” planted forests did amazingly well, as they benefited from all of the nutrition and none of the competition. But by the second and third generations, the lack of new nutrients, along with a host of other problems, ended up fatally undermining the forests, in some cases outright killing them (they had to coin a term for it, Waldsterben). In the end, “scientific” forestry proved to be a disastrous idea even when judged by the narrow standards they had set, to say nothing of all the broader effects. All of this didn’t surprise me and it probably didn’t surprise you, but there are a couple of points that deserve particular emphasis: first that it initially worked, and second that it took so long for the ultimate failure of the idea to become apparent.

Are we currently attempting any similar experiments in imposing rationality on some natural system? Almost certainly, though a lot of what we do is difficult to classify, particularly when you’re talking about changing human behavior. How much is natural and how much is learned? If we are engaged in any such efforts, it’s probably very important to keep in mind the two points I just mentioned: It might initially look like our efforts are a great success, and it might take a long time to find out that we’ve actually made the problem much, much worse.

It might help to have an example, so I’ll wrap things up with one that occurred to me. I am not saying this is what’s happening only that if it is what’s happening this might be how it played out:

We are engaged in an effort at managing the citizenry. In particular we want to reduce racism. Those people who aren’t racist represent the clean well planted lines of Norway spruces. While those people who are a little bit racist represent the old growth forest. Initially it’s easy to clear the forest, broad laws are enacted killing the biggest offenders: businesses and institutions, but getting all of the underbrush proves difficult. Initially, just accusing someone of being a racist generally works, but after a while it becomes apparent that certain species of planets have developed a tolerance to this “herbicide”, and more and more drastic measures need to be taken. Meanwhile with less competition from other plants, the nastiest plants start spreading, but also the spruces don’t seem to be doing so well either. Rather than being naturally healthy and productive it takes greater and greater effort to fertilize them and keep them healthy. And in the end, not only do you end up with two divergent monocultures, but both are at the extreme ends of things

This may not bear any resemblance to what’s happening, and to truly extend the analogy we’d have to add in elements like social media, and politics, but as analogies go, this one has a lot to recommend it.


Status Anxiety

by: Alain de Botton

306 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

The pivotal importance of status in human society. How recent developments have upset the previous status equilibrium and how that equilibrium might be restored.

Who should read this book?

This is a pretty short book on a pretty important topic. If the description of the content resonates with you at all I would recommend reading this book. 

General Thoughts

De Botton starts his argument by asserting that our perception of poverty, failure and inequality has changed. That the stories which formed the dominant narrative of status in the Christian West from the moment it became Christian, all the way up until the middle of the 20th century, have recently completely flipped, such that poverty, failure and inequality are viewed exactly the opposite of how they once were. And while it was only in the last century that these new narratives became ascendent, de Botton asserts that the change began in 1776. That’s the first time status went from being based on a fairly rigid class structure to something you could earn, largely through the possession of money but also merit. And it started us on a path of rejecting the old stories and substituting the new. Those old stories were:

  1. The poor are not responsible for their condition and are the most useful in society
  2. Low status has no moral connotation
  3. The rich are sinful and corrupt and owe their wealth to their robbery of the poor. (A view most prevalent between 1754 and 1989)

The three old stories were replaced by three new stories, where the exact opposite is claimed:

  1. The rich are the useful one’s not the poor (a position commonly associated with Adam Smith)
  2. Status does have moral connotations (i.e. the concept of a meritocracy)
  3. The poor are sinful and corrupt and owe their poverty to their own stupidity (the idea of prosperity gospel, and, for a time, Social Darwinism)

Now I think reducing everything to these three new stories overlooks a host of complexities. Obviously some people still believe in the old stories, and even those people who are accused of believing the new stories will still put a farmer ahead of Jeff Bezos in their moral hierarchy. But as an explanation just of status, it explains a lot. Particularly how each of these new stories end up maximizing our anxiety around status.

To put it another way, status, self-esteem and identity, now rarely depend on the role you were born into and the community you grew up in. Instead all three depend on your “performance in a fast-moving and implacable economy.” And that dependence is multi-faceted. Your success requires a combination of:

  • Talent, which is fickle
  • Luck, which is random
  • Your employer’s whim’s
  • Your employer’s profitability
  • The global economy

As a way of quantifying these factors along with the influence of the modern “stories”, de Botton offers the following formula:

Self-esteem = Success/Pretension

Out of all this we can start drawing some conclusions. First, while I definitely think we still need a generous helping of the first set of stories, I’m not sure that the second set of stories were all bad. In fact it seems that if pretension stays relatively constant, and success is manageable, tying it to self-esteem may be a good thing. It may in fact be argued, as many people have, that the way capitalism harnesses our drive for status and self-esteem has led to enormous increases in the standard of living, and to significant progress in general. But as I said this is easier to pull off if pretension is kept constant and success is within reach. However, as is so often the case, social media has completely changed that equation. Our pretension is fueled not just by our local community, but by everyone social media allows us to interact with from the high school classmate that’s moderately more successful than we are, but who we wouldn’t be aware of in a previous age, to instagram influencers showing us the inner workings of lives we previously wouldn’t even have been able to imagine, but to which we now have ring side seats. 

On the other side of the equation, the level of success any given person feels has also decreased. The mechanisms are similar, though I think they somewhat predate the rise of social media. There was a time when you were considered a success if you had just graduated from college, but this turned into needing to go to a good college, and then one of the best colleges, and then getting a great job, etc. This is also a huge topic with lots of additional complexity that I’m just glossing over, but it seems clear that over the last few decades success in a relative sense has become far more difficult to achieve.

When we combine increased pretension with decreased success we end up with low self-esteem, which is essentially status anxiety.

Eschatological Implications

Nothing about current trends gives me much hope that this problem will get better in the future, which means the best course of action is to figure out how to mitigate this status anxiety. What tools are available to make us care less about success and be less pretentious. The book explores five possibilities:

  1. Philosophy
  2. Art
  3. Politics
  4. Religion
  5. Bohemia

Let’s quickly examine each of them:

Philosophy: As de Botton says, “Philosophy is what allows you to interpose reason in between other’s opinion of you and your self image.” And certainly I think status anxiety has been one of the things driving the renewed popularity of Stoicism. That said, I don’t think people cultivate a philosophy as such or really any philosophy at all.

Art: Here de Botton claims that, “Art is what reverses the new stories of failure back to the old stories of failure.” Once again this is useful, but I think for art to be an antidote to status anxiety it can’t be superficial, and I’m reasonably certain that at the moment superficial art is outcompeting the kind of art de Botton is recommending.

Politics: It seems clear that whatever power politics once possessed at reducing status anxiety, it has that power no longer. 

Religion: Religion seems to take all of the best aspects of the first three options and combines them into the perfect anti-status anxiety package. Religion is philosophy, but of a form that’s palatable to everyone. It’s art, but only of the profoundest sort. It’s politics, but with a focus on service rather than competition or power. None of which is to say that religion doesn’t have all manner of issues, but when compared with the other options it seems clearly superior. Nor should the supernatural elements of religion be overlooked. As de Botton says in the book:

But when belief in an afterlife is dismissed as a childish and scientifically impossible opiate, the pressure to succeed and find fulfillment will inevitably be intensified by the awareness that one has only a single and frighteningly fleeting opportunity to do so. In such a context, earthly achievements can no longer be seen as an overture to what one may realize in another world; rather, they are the sum total of all that one will ever amount to.

Bohemia: If religion is the best option, bohemianism seems to be the one that’s the most popular. But while it appears reasonably effective at rejecting pretension and conventional definitions of success, it doesn’t strike me as being very good at creating something to take their place. Meaning, as far as I can see, while there are a lot of casual bohemians, I think there are very few true bohemians. Certainly far less than the number of true believers. And my sense is to really reduce status anxiety being a casual bohemian doesn’t cut it. On the other hand religion would appear to have some utility at nearly every level of belief.


II- Capsule Reviews

Countdown 1945: The Extraordinary Story of the 116 Days that Changed the World 

By: Chris Wallace

320 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

The final days of the Manhattan Project and Truman’s decision to use the bomb.

Who should read this book?

If you’re interested in the story behind the dropping of atomic bombs at the end of World War II then this is a pretty good book for that, though if you were only going to read one book I would recommend The Making of the Atomic Bomb by Richard Rhodes instead. The advantages of this book would be that it’s shorter and has more details on Truman and how he grappled with authorizing the use of the bomb.

General Thoughts

As you can see from the title this is a book about the 116 days immediately preceding the bombing of Hiroshima, and all the people whose efforts contributed to that event: the amazingly skilled pilots, the women working at the Oak Ridge plant refining uranium, the scientists who were worried about whether it would actually work, the little girl who was in Hiroshima when the bomb was dropped, and above it all, Truman. Who went in a very short time from not even knowing the bomb existed to having to decide whether to use it. While at the same time trying to fill all the other huge holes left by FDR’s death.

It’s all pretty fascinating stuff, and Wallace crafts it into a compelling narrative. Though the aspect that resonated with me the most was how much the Manhattan Project ends up being a microcosm of the entire American experience of World War II, and the wars since then. It is not my intention to argue that the US had it easy during the war. Obviously lots of people died and many sacrifices were made. But it was still a very different endeavor for the Americans than for any of the other belligerent nations, and the Manhattan Project is the prime example of that. In the course of the project whole towns were constructed, and then, in the case of Los Alamos, staffed by the most brilliant minds of that, or really any other era. Billions of dollars were spent, and tens of thousands of people were employed. As one example, to make sure everything went smoothly they took some of the very best pilots and put them into a special unit dedicated just to dropping the atomic bomb, and then gave them months of practice time to perfect that one mission. No other belligerent could have done any of these things, let alone all of them. 

I bring all this up because of another book I read this month, Enemy at the Gates, which is the story of the Battle of Stalingrad. The contrast between the two stories, though both took place during World War II, couldn’t be more stark, and it occurred to me that if the Manhattan Project is an analogy for the American experience of war, that Stalingrad is the analogy of the war for just about everyone else, certainly the Germans, Russians and Japanese, but even, though to a lesser extent, the British.

Countdown 1945 is in many ways a book about how lucky we’ve been, and how easy we’ve had it. The question is can our luck continue to hold? Either through the absence of war or being lucky with wars that are far away, and against opponents where our technology and industrial strength are overwhelmingly superior. I’ve always thought that the answer is probably no, our luck won’t continue forever. And at its core what Countdown 1945 is mostly about is a different era. One we won’t ever see again.


Enemy At the Gates 

by: William Craig

460 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

The Battle of Stalingrad. You might be familiar with the 2001 movie of the same name about a sniper duel during that battle, but if that’s what you were expecting, the story of the snipers is only a very small part of a horrifically bloody battle.

Who should read this book?

This is another great historical book about an amazing historical event. The kind of book that makes me wonder why I read anything but history. If you like history at all you’ll like this book.

General Thoughts

The Battle of Stalingrad represents part of World War II and indeed part of war in general that the US has never really experienced. At least not since the Civil War, and probably not ever, particularly when you’re talking about the civilian experience of war as opposed to the military experience. From the book:

As for the civilian population of [Stalingrad], a prewar census listed more than 500,000 people prior to the outbreak of World War II. This number increased as a flood of refugees poured into the city from other areas of Russia that were in danger of being overrun by the Germans. A portion of Stalingrad’s citizens were evacuated prior to the first German attack but 40,000 civilians were known to have died in the first two days of bombing in the city. No one knows how many died on the barricades or in the antitank ditches or in the surrounding steppes. Official records show only one stark fact: after the battle ended, a census found only 1,515 people who had lived in Stalingrad in 1942.

Those are pretty staggering numbers particularly when viewed as a percentage. No matter how optimistic you are about the initial evacuation and other mitigating factors it seems hard to imagine that more than about 20% of the pre-war civilian population survived the battle, and it could easily be as low as 2%. As bad as Stalingrad was it was only a small part of the overall horror of the eastern front. Again just speaking of civilian fatalities it’s estimated that 13.6 million died on the Soviet side. Perhaps the actual number is lower, but no one thinks that it’s much lower. 

Now, compare all of this with US civilian fatalities during World War II, which amounted to 12,100 people. Which is less than the documented civilian deaths in the first day of Stalingrad. And of those 12,000, three-fourths were in the merchant marines, so not exactly the women and children people generally imagine when they think of civilian casualties. As traumatic as Pearl Harbor was for the nation, only 66 civilians died in that attack. 

From a military perspective the US was not quite so lucky, and some of the beach landings, particularly in the Pacific were especially horrific, but even here the disparity is stark. The US had 400,000 military deaths. Germany (a nation significantly smaller than the US) had 4.4 million and the Soviet Union had 8.8 million deaths. And the latter two numbers are on the low end of the estimates.

In addition to the two books I read last month which touched on this subject I also heard a talk in church which tied into things. It was an older gentleman and as part of the talk he told the story of his father’s experiences during World War II. As part of his story he read a letter from his father which had been written on Christmas 1943. His father, an anti-aircraft specialist in the Pacific Theatre, was bemoaning the fact that his Christmas gifts had not yet arrived. The gentleman said that as he considered this story about his father he was moved to ask, “How much suffering can this young man from Idaho endure?” 

That question is actually the same question I have as well, though on a much larger scale. How much suffering could we as a people endure? What would Americans do if we are ever confronted with war as terrible as that waged by the Germans and Russians in the streets of Stalingrad? Could we endure it? Would we rise to the occasion? Or would we collapse?

The year before this man’s father wrote that letter, Christmas of 1942, the Germans at Stalingrad had been encircled and their Italian, Romanian and Hungarian allies were already being carted off to brutal Siberian POW camps where cannibalism would become the norm. Long before Christmas of 1943 the Germans would have joined them, and they’d have a lot more to complain about than tardy gifts. Out of three million German POWs, 1 million would die, and 1 million would still be in these camps as of 1946. So the answer to the question “How much suffering can this young man from Idaho endure?” I don’t know, but for lots of other people in World War II the answer was a nearly unimaginable amount. 

I suspect that his father and the rest of the US military would have been able to endure that suffering. Fortunately the Manhattan Project meant that we never found out. That we don’t have stories of the horrible Battle of Tokyo to set alongside stories from the Battle of Stalingrad. The question is not whether 1940’s USA could have endured it, the question is whether 2020’s USA can. Let us hope we never have to find out.


Necroscope

By: Brian Lumley

400 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

A young man who can speak with the dead gets entangled in the cold war battle between British and Soviet paranormal espionage agencies.

Who should read this book?

I don’t know that I’m the best person to comment on this. Necrosope was first published in 1986, and is the first book in a series which ended up at 18 volumes. So I would not be offering advice merely on this book, but in a sense commenting on the whole series which I am ill-equipped to do. I will say that reading this book did not immediately fill me with the need to read the next book in the series.

General Thoughts

I enjoyed the book, but I wasn’t blow-away by it. There was too little urban fantasy and too much urban horror for my tastes. Also the best part of a book like this: one in which a young person discovers that they’re different, that they have powers that most people don’t, that they’re part of an ancient and secret world, etc. Is getting to be inside their head and experience their amazement as this world is revealed. Necroscope more or less entirely skips that part of the story, which ends up being my biggest criticism of the book. I guess the only additional thing I have to add is that the book is supposed to be vaguely Lovecraftian. I only came across this information after finishing the book. I think, had I gone into it with that knowledge, it would have improved the story.


Draft No. 4: On the Writing Process 

by: John McPhee

192 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

Draft No. 4 is a series of autobiographical essays about the process of writing. 

Who should read this book?

Not me, I didn’t finish it. I suppose if you’re a big fan of McPhee you’ll probably enjoy the various vignettes, but I found it to be heavy on the memoir and light on the practical advice.

General Thoughts

From time to time books get added to my list because I hope they’ll improve my writing. This was one of those books, and it’s possible that if I hadn’t expected it to fulfill such a specific role that I might have enjoyed it. But after getting pretty far into things and discovering very little practical writing advice, my initial expectation had already hardened too much to switch to considering it as a delightful collection of stories about writing. Consequently I ended up setting it aside.

Lest there be any mistake, he does talk at great length about how he writes. But he doesn’t put much effort into generalizing his writing methodology into usable advice. And in fact some of his writing methodology is so specific that it would be impossible to implement. For example he spends an entire chapter talking about KEdit. An ancient program that was heavily customized for him by a now deceased colleague, which apparently has a user base of McPhee and maybe five other people. I guess if you squint, this does translate to a general lesson of “customize your tools”, but following his advice any more closely is essentially impossible. Which is to say lots of people are looking for advice on writing tools McPhee’s is, “Well I recommend a piece of software you’ve never heard of, can’t get, and which is only really useful with a ton of customization I can’t even talk you through because someone else did it for me and they’re dead.” 

I’m sure all of this will come across as some talentless amateur being too stupid to recognize the genius of one of the greatest writers of our age, and perhaps it is. Mostly what I’m trying to get across is that should you decide to read it, it’s best to go in thinking it’s a charming collection of anecdotes on the subject of writing. Not a how-to book.


Bang For Your Buck 

by: Stefan Gasic

192 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

It’s a collection of comics about investing inspired by the attitudes of Nassim Nicholas Taleb.

Who should read this book?

If you like Taleb’s stuff or if you just have a general disdain for conventional investing and economics you’ll probably enjoy these comics.

General Thoughts

Nothing in this collection was uproariously funny, but there were bits that were clever, and he does really accurately nail the idiocy of some of the usual suspects like naive economists and brain-dead investment bros. I would go on, but this post is already huge and I still have four books left.


The Darkest Winter

by: Nick Johns

320 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

A massive foreign hacker attack takes down power to the eastern seaboard in such a way that it will be weeks if not months before it’s restored.

Who should read this book?

I like fiction about potential future catastrophes, and for a first time author (which is what Johns is) this is pretty good. (Make what you will of the fact that I finished this, but not the McPhee book.)

General Thoughts

As I said this was a decent book, but the fact that Johns is a first time author is pretty apparent. The book drifted a lot into cliche, both in plot and characterization. You had the computer nerd who doesn’t know how to survive without his tech, the battered but defiant female. Some prepper red neck types. On the plot side society decides into anarchy surprisingly quickly, and yet in the midst of this anarchy the protagonist is constantly worried that when the smoke clears CSI is going to come in solve all of the crimes he ends up committing and put him in jail. 

In short, it had some great scenes and some decent characters, but taken as a whole it was pretty uneven.


III- Religious Reviews

C. S. Lewis Essay Collection & Other Short Pieces

By: C. S. Lewis

894 pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

A collection of short pieces by C. S. Lewis. Mostly with a religious angle.

Who should read this book?

If you’re at all a fan of Lewis this is a great collection. It’s pretty expensive in print, but it is available on Audible, and the narrator is fantastic.

General Thoughts

I listened to this once on Audible and was impressed enough that I wanted both to re-read it and have a physical copy. My wife shelled out the $100 to get it for me a couple of Christmases ago, and this last year I selected it as one of the books I would read a few pages of every day (see the quote collections from my last review post). 

On this read through I was impressed by how prescient he was. He foresaw the danger of ideological echo chambers, the debates over the utility of prisons, the tension between justice and mercy, and attacks against liberal education:

Democratic education, says Aristotle, ought to mean, not the education which democrats like, but the education which will preserve democracy. Until we have realised that the two things do not necessarily go together we cannot think clearly about education.

If you have ever read any of Lewis’ essays—or seen them, the CSLewisDoodle channel on YouTube is fantastic—then this is all of them wrapped into one glorious package.


Book of Mormon Made Harder 

by: James E. Faulconer

384 pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

This book is a collection of penetrating questions about the Book of Mormon designed to be used during a year-long course of study.

Who should read this book?

If, like me, you’ve studied the Book of Mormon many times over the years and you’re looking for a new way to approach it this is a pretty good way of getting that.

General Thoughts

This is the last of the four books I read over the course of the whole year, but out of all of them this is the only book specifically designed to be read that way. It has chapters corresponding to the old set of 48 weekly Book of Mormon lessons which was recently changed with the Come Follow Me curriculum. But as it turns out the divisions didn’t change that much, so on a week by week basis things still match up pretty well.

Faulconer doesn’t cover every chapter, and some he covers in far more depth than others, and, this is the big part, he doesn’t really give you much in the way of new information, nearly all of the content consists of questions for you to ponder as you read. Thus the title of the book. He’s not trying to smooth out the road and make things easier he’s trying to get you to work harder at really engaging with the text. I confess personally that I could have done better with that. Many days reading this book was just something to check off my to-do list, but on those times where I did really engage it was very rewarding.


The Theological Foundations of the Mormon Religion

by: Sterling M. McMurrin

184 pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

This is a book that goes through most if not all of the big questions in theology—original sin, salvation by grace, the problem of evil—and shows how Mormon theology provides particularly satisfying answers to all of them.

Who should read this book?

This is a pretty dense book, and to fully appreciate it you either need a decent background in Mormon Theology and philosophy or a really deep knowledge of general Christian theology. But if you have one of those, or the discipline to look up what you don’t understand (something I resorted to on occasion) then this is a very interesting and illuminating book.

General Thoughts

In the book’s introductory essay, by L. Jackson Newell, the story is related of McMurrin being asked whether he was an atheist. McMurrin responded by quoting Bertrand Russell, who when asked a similar question, responded that he leaned towards atheism. McMurrin then went on to say, “I’m on that knife edge with Russell, but I lean toward theism.” I bring this up to point out that McMurrin was not some hardcore Mormon apologist. I would characterize him more as a sober student of philosophy and religion who happened to have an intimate acquaintance with Mormon theology having grown up in the religion and nominally continuing to belong to the church, though definitely as more of a gadfly than a leader. He was also Commissioner for Education for a couple of years under Kennedy, so he possessed at least enough mainstream credibility to be selected for that post. Bottom line for those who may fall into the later category of potential readers, someone with a general background in theology, but no specific experience with Mormonism, who may be on the fence about picking up this book, I predict it will be more objective and more scholarly than you think.

Beyond that as I said it’s a very dense book, and I really need to wrap up this exceptionally long post, so I’ll end with just a couple of quotes that I thought were particularly good:

But it is the task of religion to achieve in men that nobility of character that enables them not only to live through their severest adversity but at times even to accomplish that divine alchemy whereby they transmute loss and sorrow and tragedy into some moral good for the universe. 

My thesis is a very simple one: That the philosopher’s God, who is the explanation of the world, need not be a person; and the sanction of moral virtue need not be a personal God; but that the God of religion is a person.


When I was younger I read a lot of Tom Clancy, and I noticed that everytime a new book came out it was longer than one before. At the time I assumed it was a problem of editing, that the more successful he became the harder he was to edit. But now I notice it happening to me, and I’ve never done any editing other than self editing (at least in this space). Perhaps the length corresponds to my increasingly infantile desperation to be noticed, that it’s a sort of “Look at me! Look at me!” at ever increasing volume. If you want to help me quiet those inner demons, consider donating


State of the Blog, Predictions, and Other Sundry Items

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:

Or download the MP3


Normally I start the year with a post reviewing my long term predictions. As part of that I make some new, shorter term predictions. But it’s also become the custom to begin each month with reviews of the books I finished over the previous month. Given how long my book review posts have become I certainly don’t want to combine the two, and also I have some changes I want to announce/float for 2021, so I’m going to combine all of these different threads into a single post: an end of the year review of where things are headed, where things have been, how my predictions have held up and what new predictions I’d like to go on the record with. Since I assume more people are going to be interested in my short term predictions, and especially where I have been wrong, let’s start there, then move to a review of how my long-term predictions are holding up and end with the navel gazing.

I- Last Year’s Predictions

At the beginning of 2020 I predicted:

More populism, less globalism. Specifically that protests will get worse in 2020.

I feel pretty good about this prediction. The pandemic has been hard on globalism, national borders are making a resurgence, and tensions between nations appear to be rising (the Solarwinds hack certainly didn’t help). Beyond that the pandemic and the associated lock downs have opened huge gulfs between global technocrats and the citizenry. Gulfs that are unlikely to be mended anytime soon.

Speaking of the above, my predictions about protests getting worse have certainly come to pass. And while I didn’t identify that pandemic backlash and BLM would be the greatest sources of protests, there’s clearly a lot of populism in the air. This populism appears to be reaching a crescendo when it comes to Trump’s continuing fights over accepting the election results. Which I’ll expand on in a minute.

No significant reduction in global CO2 emissions (a drop of greater than 5%)

Here I was wrong. Because of the enormous economic effects of the pandemic, emissions dropped a whopping 8%. I’m not going to claim that I was really correct because, “Who could have foreseen the pandemic?” This is, in fact, precisely the problem I have with many of the people who make predictions, they often argue that black swans shouldn’t count. This is another thing I’ll get to in a minute.

Social media will continue to have an unpredictable effect on politics, but the effect will be negative.

This is another one I think I nailed. If anything I was too cautious. It seems clear that despite the efforts of the companies themselves to block and tag (what they considered to be) misinformation, social media still provided a major vector for the spreading narrative of a stolen election which is now present in one form or another among the vast majority of Trump supporters (88% according to some sources). One might even go so far as to say that their efforts at tagging and blocking made it worse, that social media can’t be used for good ends. 

(For those who think the election was actually stolen, I would refer you to my previous post on that subject. For the tl;dr crowd, I argued that if it was stolen it was done in so comprehensive a manner that it amounts to winning regardless.)

That the US economy will soften enough to cause Trump to lose.

Here I was basically right, though I’m not inclined to give myself too much credit. First whatever the economy did was almost entirely a consequence of the pandemic. And I was dead wrong about the stock market, which continues to amaze me. But most people agree that without the pandemic Trump probably would have won, which kind of, if you squint, amounts to the same thing I was saying.

That the newest wave of debt accumulation will cause enormous problems by the end of the decade.

Too early to say, I was speaking of 2030 here not 2020. But certainly we accumulated debt at a much faster rate this year than I think anyone predicted going in. So, as I said in a previous post, we better hope the modern monetary theorists are correct. Because if government debt is fragilizing at all we’re acquiring fragility at an enormous clip.

Authoritarianism will continue to increase and liberal democracy will continue its retreat.

To whatever extent you think liberal democracy overlaps with classical liberalism, I think most people were amazed at the attacks which were leveled during 2020, particularly from things like critical race theory. These sort of attacks mostly came from the left, but the right isn’t looking very good either. Certainly the most recent election and their reaction to it has ended up giving democratic legitimacy a severe beating (though the narrative of the beating is different depending on which side you talk to.)

Beyond this, all indications are that China has gotten more authoritarian this year, both with respect to Hong Kong and the Uighurs. But perhaps the big open question is what happens to the additional authoritarianism brought on by the pandemic? Does it fall at the same rate as the case counts? Or does some of it linger? I suspect it basically goes away, but having discovered what tools are available, those tools become easier to use in the future.

The Middle East will get worse.

I would say I mostly got this one wrong, and Trump deserves a lot of credit for the peace deals that were brokered under his watch. That said, the situation with Iran is definitely looking worse, so not everything has been sunshine and roses. Also it’s not just the nuclear deal and the swiftly increasing uranium stockpiles. The peace deals, while almost certainly a good idea, have had the effect of making Iran feel increasingly encircled and isolated. And bad things could happen because of this.

Biden will squeak into the Democratic nomination.

I was clearly right about Biden getting the Democratic nomination, and I think I was right about the “squeak” part as well. Recall that not only was my prediction made before any of the primaries, but also that Sanders won both Iowa and New Hampshire. And since 1976 only Bill Clinton has gone on to win the nomination after losing both of those primaries, and even then 538 argues it only happened because of exceptional circumstances. So yeah, despite the eventual delegate total I would still argue that Biden squeaked into the nomination.

The Democrats will win in 2020.

By this I meant that whoever ended up with the Democratic nomination for president would go on to win the election, not that the Democrats as a whole would triumph in some large scale way. I wasn’t arrogant enough to think I could predict how congress would end up looking.

So those were my predictions at the beginning of 2020. I’m not asking to be graded on them, and certainly I don’t think I deserve any particular recognition, obviously I got some things right and some things wrong, and the thing I’ve actually been the most wrong about didn’t even make it into my list of predictions: how wrong I was about Trump and his supporters.

While I continue to maintain that right-wing violence is overstated, or perhaps more accurately that all violence which might remotely be considered right-wing get’s labeled as such while lots of violence that should get labeled as left wing, under the same standard, is considered to be non-ideological (see this post for a deeper dive into this.) I am nevertheless very surprised by all of the shenanigans which have been attempted in order to keep Trump in power and beyond that the enormous number of people who think he should be kept in power, even if it requires something like using the Insurrection Act to call up the military. 

Perhaps this is the first you’ve heard of this idea, which is an example of how insular the various worlds have become. (Though in some respects I think this still comes back to my underestimation of how bad social media could be.) I know more than a few people who are convinced that everything Trump has done since the election was all part of a vast sting operation, designed to lure the deep state into so overplaying their hand and making their fraud so obvious that “they” could be rounded up in one giant operation. Well whether there was fraud or not I don’t think it’s ended up being blindingly obvious. And if that’s not what’s going on then we either had a legitimate election or the deep state cheated in such an overwhelming fashion that things can only be sorted out at the point of a gun, which seems like one of the most catastrophically bad ideas imaginable, and I never would have predicted the way things have gone since November 3rd.

II- An Interlude on Predictions in General

There are many people who would look at this review of my short term predictions with the accompanying explanations and declare that it’s the same kind of fuzzy predictions with fuzzy accountability that everyone engages in. That if I want to be taken seriously as a predictor that I should use the Superforecasting method, where you make a prediction that’s specific enough to be graded, and then attach a confidence level to it. That is “many people” might say that if they haven’t been following me for very long. Those that have been around for awhile know that I have huge issues with this methodology, which I have outlined ad nauseam, and if you want to get my full argument I would refer you to my past posts on the subject. For those who aren’t familiar with my arguments and just want the abbreviated version, this year provides the perfect object lesson for what I’ve been talking about all this time, and it can be summed up in two words: black swans. Rare events end up being hugely consequential to the way things actually play out. Superforecasting not only has no method for dealing with such events, I think it actively shifts focus away from them, and this year was a fantastic example of that.

How many Superforecasters predicted the pandemic? How many predicted that Trump would seriously consider using the Insurrection Act to maintain power? To be clear I understand that they did correctly predict a lot of things. They almost certainly did better than average at calling the presidential race. And within the confines of their system they’re excellent, i.e. they’re really good at having 90% of the predictions they have 90% confidence in turn out to be true. But take all the predictions that they made about 2020, or even about the whole decade of the 2020’s and imagine that they’re all correct. Which would give you a clearer picture of the world of 2020? All those predictions or just knowing that there was a global pandemic? Now I understand that no one knew there was going to be a global pandemic, but which nations did better? Those who were prepared for a pandemic, with a culture of mask wearing? Or those who had the best forecasters?

So yes, pandemics are rare, but they’re hugely consequential when they do happen, and if Superforecasting does anything to reduce our preparedness for those sorts of things, by shifting focus on to the things they are good at predicting, then on net superforecasting is a bad thing. And I have every reason to suspect it does. 

All of the things I said about the pandemic will be equally true if Trump decides to actually invoke the Insurrection Act. Which is another thing that wasn’t even on the superforecasting radar. (A Google search for “superforecasting ‘insurrection act’” comes back with the message “It looks like there aren’t many great matches for your search”). But, and this is the interesting part, it is on the radar of all those so-called “crazy preppers” out there. It may not be on their radar in the way you hope, but the idea that things might disintegrate, and guns might be useful has been on their radar for a long time. Based on all of this, the vast majority of my predictive energy is spent on identifying potential black swans. With short term forecasting as more of an engaging exercise than any real attempt to do something useful. We’ll get to those blacks swans in a minute, but first:

III- Predictions for 2021

I think there’s a huge amount of uncertainty going into this year, and things which got started in 2020 could go a lot of different ways. And I think this time around I’m going to go for quantity of predictions, not quality:

  1. Biden will not die in 2021
  2. The police will shoot another black man (or possibly a black woman) and new protests will ensue.
  3. The summer tourist season will proceed in a more or less normal fashion but with some additional precautions (I have a Rhine River Cruise scheduled for June, so this one is particularly important for me.)
  4. Bitcoin will end the year higher than it is right now.
  5. Trump will not invoke the insurrection act.
  6. But if he does the military will refuse to comply, probably after someone files an emergency lawsuit, which then gets decided by the Supreme Court.
  7. There might possibly be a few soldiers who do something stupid in spite of this, but the military command structure will not go along with Trump and soldiers will side with their commanders rather than with Trump.
  8. Trump’s influence over the Republican party will begin to fade. (Not as fast as some people would hope, but fast enough that he won’t be the Republican nominee in 2024.)
  9. Large tech companies will increasingly be seen as villainous, which is to say the antitrust lawsuits will end up being a pretty big deal. I think they’ll take longer than one year to resolve, but at the end I expect that there will be a significant restructuring to at least one of the tech companies. (I’m leaning towards Facebook.)
  10. The anti-vaxxer movement will grow in prominence, with some of the same things we’ve come to expect out of other movements: conspiracy theories (moreso), broad support, protests, etc.

And now for some things I think are unlikely but which might happen and are worth keeping an eye on:

  1. The Republican party disintegrates. Most likely because Trump leaves and starts his own party.
  2. COVID mutates in such a way that the vaccines are no longer as effective, leading to a new spike in winter of 2021-2022.
  3. Biden doesn’t die, but he exhibits signs of dementia significant enough that he’s removed under Amendment 25.
  4. I’d be very surprised if we saw actual civil war (assuming I’m right about #7 above) but I would not be especially surprised to see violence on the level we saw in the late 60s and early 70s.
  5. Significant unrest in mainland China similar to Tiananmen Square, and at least as big as the Hong Kong protests. 

These are just the things that seem possible as a continuation of trends which are already ongoing, but 2021 could also bring any of the low probability catastrophes we’ve been warned about for decades, in the same fashion that 2020 brought us the global pandemic, 2021 could bring a terrorist nuke, a Chinese invasion of Taiwan, a financial crisis, etc. 

IV- Status of Long-Term Predictions

When I initially made these predictions, at the beginning of 2017, I grouped things into five categories:

Artificial Intelligence:

  1. General artificial intelligence, duplicating the abilities of an average human (or better), will never be developed.
  2. A complete functional reconstruction of the brain will turn out to be impossible.
  3. Artificial consciousness will never be created.

As you can see, I’m pretty pessimistic when it comes to general artificial intelligence (GAI). But before we get into the status of my predictions, I need to offer my usual caveat that just because I think GAI is improbable doesn’t mean that I also think studying AI Risk is a waste of time. I am generally convinced by arguments that a GAI with misaligned incentives could be very dangerous, as such, even though I think one is unlikely to be created, as I said, I’m all about trying to avoid black swans. And that’s what my long term predictions revolve around. Some are black swans I think are inevitable and others are black swans that I personally am not worried about. But I could very easily be wrong. 

In any case this last year there was quite a bit of excitement around GPT-3, and I will freely admit that it’s surprisingly impressive. But no one thinks that it’s a GAI, and as far as I can tell most people don’t think that it’s a direct path to GAI either. That it is at best one part of the puzzle, but there are still lots of pieces remaining. I’m going to be even more pessimistic than that, and argue that this approach is nearly at its limits and we won’t get anything significantly better than GPT-3. That for someone skilled enough it will still be possible to distinguish between text generated by GPT-4 or 10 and text generated by a skilled human. But the fact that it will require skill on both ends is still a very big deal.

Transhumanism:

  1. Immortality will never be achieved.
  2. We will never be able to upload our consciousness into a computer.
  3. No one will ever successfully be returned from the dead using cryonics.

All of my predictions here relate to life extension in one form or another. I think similar to how things have worked with AI in the past where there was significant excitement and then a plateau, leading to a couple of AI winters. That we are entering a life extension winter. That a lot of the early excitement about improved medicine and gene editing has not panned out as quickly as people thought, (or there are major ethical issues) and for the last few years, even before the pandemic, life expectancy has actually been decreasing. As of 2019 it had been decreasing for three years, and I can’t imagine that this trend reversed in 2020, with the pandemic raging. 

Of course cryonics and brain uploading aim to route around such issues, but if there have been any advancements on that front this year I missed them.

Outer space: 

  1. We will never establish a viable human colony outside the solar system.
  2. We will never have an extraterrestrial colony (Mars or Europa or the Moon) of greater than 35,000 people.
  3. We will never make contact with an intelligent extraterrestrial species.

There has been a lot of excitement here. And Musk and some of the others are doing some really interesting things, but as I expected the timeline for all of his plans has been steadily slipping. In 2017 he said he’d have “Two cargo landers on Mars 2022, Four landers (two crewed) Mars 2024”. Now he’s saying, a tourist flight around the Moon in 2023, with unmanned craft on Mars in 2024. And even that seems ridiculously optimistic. The problem as I (and others) keep pointing out, is that doing anything in outer space is fantastically difficult. 

Fermi’s paradox (#3) is its own huge can of worms, and this year did see the release of the Pentagon UFO videos, but for a large variety of reasons I am confident in asserting that those videos do not represent the answer to the paradox. And I’ll explain why at another time.

War: (I hope I’m wrong about all of these)

  1. Two or more nukes will be exploded in anger within 30 days of one another.
  2. There will be a war with more deaths than World War II (in absolute terms, not as a percentage of population.)
  3. The number of nations with nuclear weapons will never be less than it is right now.

This section doesn’t need much additional elaboration because the historical precedents are so obvious. Mostly I’m merely predicting that war is not a thing of the past. That the Long Peace will eventually end. 

Miscellaneous

1- There will be a natural disaster somewhere in the world that kills at least a million people

2- The US government’s debt will eventually be the source of a gigantic global meltdown.

3- Five or more of the current OECD countries will cease to exist in their current form.

Mostly self explanatory, and as I mentioned this year we have really doubled down on the idea that deficits don’t matter so if #2 doesn’t happen, it won’t be because any restraint was exercised. And as far as #3 my standard for “current form” is pretty broad. So successful independence movements, dramatic changes in the type of government—say from democracy to a dictatorship, and civil wars, would all count. 

V- The State of the Blog

I’ve decided to make a few changes in 2021. The biggest being that I’m joining all the cool kids and starting a newsletter, though this will end up being less consequential than it sounds. My vague goal for the current year was to put out four posts a month, one of which was a book review round up. If you look back over the year you’ll see that there were a few months (including this one) where I only got three posts out. In large part that’s because I’ve also been working on a book, but also the posts seem to gradually be getting longer as well. All of this is somewhat according to plan, but I worry that if a 4000 word essay is the smallest possible chunk my writing comes in, that there are going to be a lot of people who might be interested in what I have to say but who will never be able to get over that hump, and self-promotion has never been my strong suit at the best of times.

The newsletter is designed to solve both of these problems. Rather than being thousands of words I’m going to limit it to 500. Rather than forcing you to come to my blog or subscribe to my RSS feed, it’s going to be delivered straight into your mailbox. Rather than being a long and nuanced examination of an issue it’s going to be a punchy bit about some potential catastrophe. Delivered at the end of every month. (Tagline: “It’s the end of the month, so it’s once again time to talk about the end of the world!”) I will still publish it here, so if you prefer reading my blog as you always have you won’t have to follow any additional steps to get the newsletter content, though, a month from now, I still hope you’ll subscribe, since it will hopefully be something that’s easier to share. And the whole point of the exercise is to hook some additional people with the newsletter and use that as a gateway to the harder stuff.

To summarize, I’m replacing my vague goal from last year of four posts a month with the concrete commitment for 2021 of:

  • A book review round up at the beginning of each month
  • At least two long essays every month but possibly three.
  • An end of the month short piece which will go out as part of a newsletter
  • A book

As far as the book. I’m shooting to have it done sometime this summer, though there’s good reason to suspect that it might slip into the fall. I may get into the details of what it’s about later, but for now I can reveal that it does contain the full explanation for why the Pentagon UFO videos are not the solution to Fermi’s Paradox, even if they were to depict actual UFOs! 

With that cliffhanger I’ll sign off. I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas, and that your New Year’s will end up being great as well, and I’ll see you in 2021.


As someone who specializes in talking about catastrophes, I got quite a bit of content out of 2020, but like everyone I’ll be glad when it’s over. Still if you appreciated that content, if it helped distract you from the craziness that was 2020, even a little bit, consider donating.


Review of Irreversible Damage by Abigail Shrier

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For those who read my last post, you know what’s coming, a review of Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters by Abigail Shrier. I debated whether I should follow my standard review format, and after much back and forth, I decided to not only follow it, but add a section, so let’s start there:

Briefly, what is this book about?

Shrier is arguing that there has been a huge increase in the number of female teens identifying as transgender, and that this increase is not a result of long standing gender dysphoria, but rather the typical confusion and discomfort associated with puberty combined with a culture that celebrates transgender individuals. That in essence going through puberty is tough and being trans allows them to put that out of their mind while also being cool. Or in words of one of the teenagers she interviewed:

I don’t know exactly that I want to be a guy. I just know I don’t want to be a girl.

Who should read this book?

At the top of my list would be those people who instinctively recoil from Shrier’s argument, And who feel that all, or at least the vast majority of female teens who come out as trans are doing so for good and healthy reasons. BUT who are intellectually rigorous enough to want to be able to steelman the arguments of those on the other side. In saying this, I’m not saying that this book represents a perfectly crafted treatise, free from shortcomings, the book has many. But at the moment it’s the only book length treatment of the argument I’m aware of, and if you want to craft an understanding of the strongest argument being made, this is a critical piece of that. Also I think whatever imperfections it does have are magnified by how contentious the issue is. In my opinion, its mix of data and anecdotes is well ahead of the average Malcom Gladwell book, but he’s saying things people mostly want to hear. The same can not be said for this book, which because of how contentious it is, get’s held to a much higher standard, with any flaws serving as an excuse for dismissing the entire book.  I would urge you not to do that, but to approach the materially charitably. Someone, rather than spewing out 280 character “hot takes” on Twitter, has gone to the trouble of putting together 264 pages of material in support of their point. Isn’t that what we all say we want these days?

Beyond that, I would actually say that everyone should read this book. And yes the people I talked about in the last paragraph are included in the set of everyone, but I don’t know that just saying “everyone” would have been an effective persuasion technique for the aforementioned group. But for those who aren’t in that previous group, who may be wondering, “Why should I read it?” My argument would be that anytime a consensus starts hardening around a simple narrative, that it’s the duty of everyone in a healthy society to make sure that this narrative isn’t too simple, that important complexities and second order effects are not being overlooked and above all that the consensus itself is not mistaken. Because as I have pointed out it’s always worse when everyone makes a mistake than when only a few people make a mistake. And this seems like a situation where the consensus is wrong, and a large mistake is being abetted by this incorrect understanding. And the more people we have thinking about the problem the more likely we are to catch and arrest the mistake, if one is in fact being made.

General Thoughts

That, of course, is the key question, who in all of this is making a mistake? Is Shrier making a mistake? Or are doctors, transgender influencers, psychiatrists, the teenage girls claiming to be trans, and the culture at large making a mistake? Stated that way, Occam’s Razor would suggest that Shrier is making the mistake. But clearly, the fact that I’m devoting a whole post to the issue, would suggest that I don’t think that’s the case. Why is that? What makes me think that all of those groups might be making a mistake? What is it that suggests to me that Shrier might be right and all of those other people might be wrong?

Let’s start with Shrier. First, it’s important to note that her focus is very narrow. I think that many people, myself included, thought that the book would be a general indictment of all people identifying as transgender, but instead Shrier goes out of her way to make it clear that there are people who genuinely suffer from gender dysphoria, and for those people it’s possible that surgical transition might be the right choice. Her focus is not on those people, but rather the book seeks only to examine teenage and college age girls who identify as transgender, and whether they may be under the influence of a peer contagion effect, i.e. the obvious fact that teenage behavior can be influenced by the attitude of their peers. And Shrier’s not even arguing that all girls who “come out” as transgender are suffering from this peer contagion effect, only that many of them probably are, and that if we can identify that segment, we can end up with a better outcomes overall both for those girls and for society as a whole.

(Side note: In this post when I’m speaking of teenagers or teenage girls, I’m also including people in their early 20’s, but it seems cumbersome to have to write out “teenage and college age individuals” every time. Also while the phenomena Shrier is describing continues into the early 20’s it start’s much younger, and if policies, procedures and attitudes need to change that would probably be the place for it to happen.)

Beyond the narrowness of her focus, the other thing Shrier brings to the table is her own set of groups. The labels for the groups on her side of the issue are a little more convoluted, and they lack expert credentialing, but it’s an important list nonetheless. It includes the parents of transgender teens, detransitioners, and even some well known trasgender activists. And yes, also in that mix are some doctors, psychiatrists and a significant, though at this point, not dominant part of the culture.

Beyond all of this, having read the book, I think she has science and data on her side. For some people the idea that doctors and psychiatrists are driven by fads is obvious, to say nothing of how fad-driven the culture at large is. For others the burden is on those questioning the “experts”. I’m unlikely to sway the people in this latter category in the course of a single blog post, let alone in the course of a few paragraphs, but perhaps an example might help. 

In one of my previous posts (a few years back at this point) I talked about the opioid epidemic. I had just read the book Dreamland by Sam Quinones (still highly recommended by the way), and the misuse of science in service of prescribing opioids documented by that book was insane. From that previous post: 

[T]he misuse of science, hinged on placing far too much weight on a one paragraph letter published in the New England Journal of Medicine in 1980 which claimed that opiates only ended up causing addiction in 1% of people. Getting past the fact that the author never intended it to be used in the way it was, to base decades of pain management on one paragraph is staggeringly irresponsible. Even more irresponsible, when the pharmaceutical companies got around to trying to confirm the result they found that it didn’t hold up (to no one’s surprise) and they ended up burying and twisting the results they did get. The number of people that died of accidental overdoses directly or indirectly from this misuse of science is easily six figures, possibly seven, particularly since people are still dying. Of course in addition to the misuse of science there was the over reliance on science. I assume that on some level the pharmaceutical companies knew that they were not being scientific, but countless doctors, who were either naive or blinded by the gifts provided by the pharmaceutical company chose to at least pretend that they were doing what they were doing because science backed them up.

From this there would seem to be no question that doctors can screw up in a fashion which is both enormous and coordinated. As far as psychiatrists and therapists, it would appear safe to lump them into this same category of “medical professionals”, particularly given that the litany of their mistakes is just as long if not longer than the doctor’s. From our original list of people opposed to Shrier’s interpretation we still have to address the teenage girls claiming to be trans, transgender influencers, and the culture at large. We’ll come back to those claiming to be trans in a moment. Transgender influencers are probably the least objective actors in all of this, and anyone looking for evidence from that quarter is going to have a very hard separating the facts from the bias. Which leaves only the culture at large, and while their record of failure might be more forgivable than that of the doctors (who are expected to know better) it’s probably more extensive. Also isn’t this what we’re here to discuss? Whether current culture might be wrong on this topic?

It’s entirely possible that you’re still skeptical that all those people could be wrong, if so, let’s try approaching it from a different direction. The one thing we do have a pretty good handle on is the enormous increase of people identifying as trans and seeking treatment. Some statistics from the book to chew on:

  • Previous to the last five years the accepted statistic for the prevalence of gender dysphoria was 0.01 percent.
  • The prevalence of those identifying as transgender has increased by over 1,000 percent.
  • In Britain the increase is 4,000 percent.
  • 2% of highschool students now identify as trans.
  • Between 2016 and 2017 gender surgeries for natal females quadrupled. 
  • As of 2018 there had been a 4,400% rise over the previous decade in teenage girls seeking gender treatment.
  • “Before 2012, in fact, there was no scientific literature on girls ages eleven to twenty-one ever having developed gender dysphoria at all.”

Taken together, even if you don’t agree with every point, or the conclusions Shrier draws from this data, the fact that there has been a significant increase in the number of people identifying as transgender and that this increase has been particularly notable among teenage and college age girls is hard to deny. (Nor do I think that many people do.) Something has changed dramatically over the last few years, and it’s worth identifying what that something is. I myself took a stab at this a couple of years ago in a two part post (1, 2) and at the time I came up with seven possible explanations, if you’re curious what they were I would direct you to those earlier posts. (Shrier’s explanation is a combination of my 5th and 7th explanations.) My point this time around is more narrow: If you don’t accept Shrier’s explanation for the increase what explanation are you willing to offer in its stead? And does this explanation fit the available data better? 

Here we return to considering the evidence provided by all of the girls who identify as transgender. One of the chief arguments against the idea that it’s some sort of crazy fad is that no one would go to all the trouble of binding their breasts, or taking hormones, to say nothing of actual surgery, if they weren’t serious. On its face, this argument seems reasonable, but on the other hand it’s important to remember that these are teenagers we’re talking about. A group not known for being exceptionally far-sighted or clear-thinking. A group who has no problem modifying their bodies with tattoos or piercings, which from a long term perspective seems very similar to binding, and at first glance binding probably appears less permanent.

As far as hormones, there seems to be every reason to suspect that teens view them similarly to other drugs they might consider ingesting, with if anything a bias to view them as less harmful than average because they are perceived to be both natural and corrective. Given that teenagers frequently make irresponsible decisions about drugs which are perceived as being neither of those things, anyone who argues that we can count on them to make responsible, well-informed decisions about trans specific drugs like puberty-blockers and hormones has got to be joking. 

When we finally extend this into the category of actual surgery, one would hope that there would be lots of safeguards in place before doing something so potentially life altering, but there are certainly many examples of people who had surgery and later regretted it, including the case of Keira Bell which was recently adjudicated in Britain. We’ll discuss Bell more later, but if we accept the “between 2016 and 2017 gender surgeries for natal females quadrupled” statistic mentioned above, unless we can come up with a better explanation for the increase than the one offered by Shrier it seems like we’re forced to assume that upwards of 75% of surgeries were conducted as part of this trend rather than being conducted on people with actual dysphoria. And that assumes that the 2016 numbers represent a floor, if the trend was already in motion at this point then it may be more than 75%. Finally is there anyone out there that thinks the number of surgeries has gone down since 2017? I wouldn’t bet on it.

You might be willing to grant my general point that teens are dumb, but still not be convinced that they would be dumb in precisely this way, which is certainly a reasonable objection. Out of all the ways for them to misbehave how does it come to pass that they choose this one? At first glance it seems uniquely harmful and misguided, but as it turns out, for reasons still very much in debate, teenage girls seem particularly susceptible to engaging in harmful trends. In modern times we’ve seen significant problems with anorexia nervosa, bulimia, and cutting. Go just a little ways back in time and there was a huge fuss around repressed memories, particularly in conjunction with satanic ritual abuse and as far back as the late 1800’s we see this same group suffering from an epidemic of neurasthenia (essentially fainting and weakness). While we don’t have the space for a deep examination of the similarities between all of these conditions and Shrier’s hypothesis, it does seem clear that it’s not unheard of for a large number of teenage girls to engage in irrational and damaging behavior, that there is a precedent.

As I mentioned the debate is still raging on many of these issues, but we do have some pretty good theories for how a trend like this manages to spread. First, the term we’ve already encountered, the idea of peer contagion. If the massive increase was due just culture becoming more tolerant, if peers had nothing to do with it, we would expect the distribution of transgender teens to be fairly random and uniform. Instead we find, according to the book, that the prevalence of transgender identification within groups of friends is more than 70x the rate you would expect.

Also, while the idea that teenage behavior can be influenced by the attitude of their peers is almost the definition of teenage behavior, the modern world has introduced at least a few other things which contribute to and exacerbate the problem. The first, and most obvious is social media. Shrier provides the statistic that 65% of adolescent girls who decide they’re trans do so after a period of prolonged social media immersion. I understand that this is definitely a statistic which is subject to interpretation, for example what qualifies as “prolonged” and “immersion”? But it’s easy to see many different ways in which social media might contribute, first it makes the contagion part of the peer contagion effect worse. Social media does a great job of connecting people who feel different and marginalized. Everyone can easily imagine how this might be a force for good, but it’s clearly also something which can cause a lot of harm, by seeming to pathologize and amplify uncertainty that might otherwise be just a phase. Stepping into this highly connected environment are transgender influencers, who Shrier spends a lot of time discussing. These individuals have all the incentives in the world to make transitioning seem like a wonderful experience that solved all of their problems.

Finally social media allows people to compare themselves with the whole world, amplifying the peer part of the peer contagion phenomena. Currently, if a teenage girl is wondering if she’s “girly” enough, she can compare herself to the top 0.01% of all the girls in the world through the medium of things like Instagram. A situation where it is vastly easier to make comparisons and decide that you don’t measure up.

Related to this, but at the extremes, there is also the ubiquity of pornography to contend with. Shrier theorizes, and I think it’s a theory deserving consideration, that most pornography has the effect of making sexual activity as a hetrosexual female seem pretty unappealing. Not only is there an enormous amount of porn focused on various forms of humiliation, I also imagine there’s a perception that intimate moments are very likely to be recorded, leading to the very real fear that they will be added to the ranks of women being humiliated. Also a greater and greater majority of teenagers have no experience with sex outside of pornography. This quote from the book is too good not to include:

Many of the adolescent girls who adopt a transgender identity have never had a single sexual or romantic experience. They have never been kissed by a boy or a girl. What they lack in life experience, they make up for with a sex-studded vocabulary and avant-garde gender theory.

Finally, the general point I keep returning to over and over in this space, 100 years ago this issue, to the extent that it existed, was entirely different. Most of the things which are now central to people’s perception of what it means to transition hadn’t even been developed. There was no testosterone, no puberty blockers, and definitely no surgeries. If a significant and growing number of people now feel that they need these things which 100 years ago didn’t even exist, it would seem to say a lot more about the current age than some deep biological truth.

If at this point you are at least willing to entertain the idea that Shrier might be right, that some teenage girls are going to decide that they’re transgender for reasons other than actual gender dysphoria, and consequently any transition is going to end up being a mistake, and that the less these girls transition the better. If you’re willing to consider all of this what do you do now?

Certainly one of your first impulses would be to attempt to identify those individuals who won’t benefit from transition, who are using transition to avoid their problems rather than solve them. In these cases you wouldn’t “affirm” their new gender, or call them by different pronouns. You would take steps to keep them from binding, and definitely do everything in your power to prevent them from taking any drugs which might cause, as the title of the book suggests, irreversible damage. 

If you could be sure that you had accurately identified them then such steps would hopefully be uncontroversial. (I’m not sure that this would be the case, but one could hope). No most of the controversy comes over that first step. Even if we are convinced that there are people in this group, how do we identify them? From what was discussed above, and in other places in the book it sounds like there are a few attributes that set this segment apart:

  1. The transgender identification seems to come out of nowhere.
  2. It follows a period of intense social media consumption.
  3. It is closely associated with not fitting in, discomfort with the changes brought on by puberty, or outright depression.
  4. Friends or other peers of the teen have also recently announced that they’re transgender.

Those markers all seem pretty suspicious by themselves, but if all of them manifested together, it’s hard to imagine that we wouldn’t want to exercise caution. The problem is how do we accurately gauge which of these things might be true in any given case? Particularly if we’ve already decided that the teens themselves are confused and motivated to conceal things? For me the best resource would be the parents, and as a parent myself I am entirely aware of all the things I don’t know about my kids, but most of the things mentioned above should be reasonably obvious to any parent actually paying attention, particularly the first one. And herein lies one of the biggest problems with how things currently work. Even if teachers, therapists and doctors were inclined to push back, which they’re apparently not, parents still appear to be the last to get consulted on how to handle their child’s issues.

Irreversible Damage is as much a book about the parents of these teens as it is the teens themselves, and given that many (though not all) of these teens were unwilling to talk to Shrier she spends a lot of space on interviews with the parents. And while this does leave her open to charges of bias, there does seem to be a pretty consistent pattern:

Teen decides they’re transgender. They start going by a new name and new pronouns at school. This is not communicated to the parents. Parents eventually find out. None of the parents Shrier included (perhaps for obvious reasons) are hardcore conservatives who kick their kid out of the house, they’re generally the kind of people who vote Democrat and volunteer for Planned Parenthood. The parents are unsure how to react, but decide that they should call in outside help in the form a therapist or psychologist. They expect that this person will “get to the bottom of it” but instead they immediately start affirming the new gender identity and discussing drugs like puberty blockers or testosterone. Again without really involving the parent. Beyond all of this, Shrier points out that much of transgender advocacy has an anti-bullying element to it, following from this parents are oftentimes identified as the biggest bully of all. Which is to say, you’re taking the best resource for identifying that segment that might not benefit from transition and, at best sidelining them, and at worse demonizing them.

Now, as I mentioned this description of things probably has some baises: from the sources, the author and my own attempts to abbreviate it for impact and space, but Shrier did base much of this on responses to a survey of 256 parents of transgender teens, conducted by Dr. Lisa Littman, of Brown University. Here are some of the results:

  • Over 80% female
  • Mean age 16.4
  • Most lived at home
  • Vast majority had ZERO of the DSM-5 indicators of childhood gender dysphoria (six is necessary to qualify)
  • 1/3 had no indications of gender dysphoria even immediately beforehand
  • Majority had a diagnosed psychiatric condition, almost half were engaged in self-harm
  • 41% had expressed a non-hetrosexual sexual orientation before identifying as trans
  • 47.4% had been formally assessed as gifted
  • 70% belonged to a peer group where at least one friend was trans, in some the majority of friends were trans
  • 60% said it brought a popularity boost
  • 90% of parents were white
  • 70% of parents had bachelor’s or higher
  • 85% of parents supported same sex marriage
  • 64% of parents were labeled transphobic for asking the child to take more time to figure it out, etc.
  • Less than 13% believed that their child’s mental health had improved 47% said that it had worsened.

Littman conducted this survey as part of an attempt to quantify what she’s taken to labeling Rapid-onset Gender Dysphoria (ROGD, and I’m realizing I should have introduced that term much earlier in the post, but it’s too late now). Littman is one of the many researchers interviewed by Shrier, and her story might be a whole post on it’s own, but whatever else you may say the book is not composed of data-free rants from the fringe, people have done some actual legwork here.  Nor does the main recommendation of greater parental involvement in decisions of this magnitude seem like too much to ask.

Still even were this to happen it’s clear that debate would continue to rage over how best to tackle the problem. And many people would continue to insist that even if a person has only started identifying as transgender because of peer contagion, that there isn’t any harm in expecting people to switch to a new name and a new set of pronouns. This argument might have some merit, but many people go on to make this same argument about puberty blockers. Similarly arguing that there’s very little downside; that it’s just a way of hitting a pause button while the teenager in question makes up their mind. But here we get to another one of the book’s significant assertions: puberty blockers are not a way of buying time in order to make a decision, they are a decision. Shrier asserts that nearly 100% of teens who are put on puberty blockers go on to transition further. Now compare this to the old methodology which did not affirm the new gender or use any drugs. The methodology used on people who suffered dysphoria from a very young age, those cases which don’t appear to be ROGD, i.e. which didn’t come as a surprise to the child’s parents. Under this methodology 70% of people grew out of their dysphoria, which was not only longer lasting, but arguably more deeply entrenched!

While reading this book I discussed it’s conclusions with several of my friends. Most were open to the idea that Shrier (and Littman and the rest) might have identified a real problem, but they questioned its impact, in particular they felt that the number of teens who engaged in transitional steps beyond just a change of names and pronouns, and perhaps binding was relatively small. And to be clear I too very much wish there was more data on how common these things actually are, but let’s go through each step of transition and see what can be said about it.

Change in pronouns: The friends who I talked to were willing to accept the argument that puberty blockers are probably bad, but see changing names and pronouns as just common politeness, with no chance of doing any lasting harm. Similar to giving the kid a nickname. Well according to Shrier even just doing a “social transition” can be remarkably sticky. I, for one, think this makes sense, what kid is going to want to publicly back down and admit that they were wrong? Even if it wasn’t a matter of great cultural controversy, which teen voluntarily chooses to look foolish about even small things? And this is a great big thing! Plus it’s a well documented psychological phenomenon that once you make a decision various biases kick in to confirm and strengthen it. Accordingly, I think even this step requires serious consideration. Certainly it shouldn’t be taken on a whim.

Binding: This is another place where I really wish there was better data. I got the impression from the book that most teenage girls who decide to identify as transgender go on to bind their breasts. Perhaps this impression is based on the further impression that teens view it as being relatively harmless. But impressions all the way down is not the way to construct a compelling argument. In any case regardless of its prevalence, it’s not harmless, and can cause: “Fractured or bruised ribs, punctured or collapsed lungs, shortness of breath, back pain, and deformation of breast tissue.” Though again I don’t have any data on how often these complications occur.

Puberty Blockers: I’ve already mentioned Shrier’s worry with respect to puberty blockers, that they’re not working in the way people expect. Here side effects (other than the gigantic one of stopping normal development) are not very well documented, but appear to include loss of bone density, and interference with brain development which may affect intelligence. But here, at least, I did manage to find somewhat better data on how many of the teens in question end up taking them. An article in The Economist claims that half of all children referred to a gender-identity clinic ended up starting puberty blockers, and that such referrals have increased 30-fold over the last decade. 

Testosterone: Again good data on how many trans people are taking testosterone is hard to come by, but it’s yet another drug where there are clearly some pretty serious side effects. “Heightened rates of diabetes, stroke, blood clots, cancer, and… heart disease.” Because of the side effects to reproduction many women end up having “prophylactic hysterectomies”. And lest people think they can try it for awhile, and then change their mind, even a couple of months can produce permanent changes to facial hair, voice and genitals. 

Surgery: It seems both obvious that this is the rarest step taken by those who are transitioning, particularly phalloplasty or “bottom surgery”, but also that this is where the potential for causing “irreversible damage” is the greatest. Particularly since, as demand has increased it has outstripped the supply of skilled surgeons, leading to even worse outcomes. And certainly there are stories of people who have gone this far, and decided that it was all a horrible mistake. For example Keira Bell, who we’ll get to in a minute.

Doing nothing: I left this for last because after everything that was just mentioned including the 70% of people who grow out of dysphoria under this course of action. It may seem inconceivable that this isn’t the recommended course of action for all teenagers claiming to suffer from gender dysphoria. But there’s one big reason why it’s not. Everyone, but particularly the parents, are terrified that their teenager will commit suicide if they don’t allow them to start transitioning or take puberty blockers. Here Shrier makes perhaps the most important claim of all:

There are no good long-term studies indicating that either gender dysphoria or suicidality diminishes after medical transition.

Lest you think that this claim is unforgivably tainted by Shrier’s biases, in the review of the book which appeared in The Economist, they said the same thing: the research does not back up the claim that failing to affirm increases the risk of suicide. I understand The Economist is not completely free from biases either, but it’s as close as you’re likely to get in this day and age.

In fact, for those who don’t feel like reading the entirety of Irreversible Damage the two Economist articles I already mentioned represent a pretty good summary. In particular their article on the Keira Bell case has some startling quotes, and since it’s already far too late to keep this post from being gigantic and further as a way of reducing the potential bias of relying on a single book, I figured I might as well include some of them:

In 2018 Andrea Davidson’s 12-year-old daughter, Meghan, announced she was “definitely a boy”. Ms Davidson says her child was never a tomboy but the family doctor congratulated her and asked what pronouns she had chosen, before writing a referral to the British Columbia Children’s Hospital (BCCH). “We thought we were going to see a psychologist, but it was a nurse and a social worker,” says Ms Davidson (both her and her daughter’s names have been changed). “Within ten minutes they had offered our child Lupron”—a puberty-blocking drug.

…other transitioners come to see such procedures as a mistake. Claire (not her real name), now a 19-year-old student in Florida, started on testosterone aged 14 because of a loathing for her body. (She was also deeply depressed.) “I felt it was the only option, especially with the insistence that having dysphoria meant you are irrevocably trans and thus you will probably kill yourself if you don’t transition.” Obtaining hormones was easy, she says. “They pretty much gold-stamped me through.” Then, aged 17, her dysphoria disappeared. “I felt extremely lost. I had never heard of this happening.” She came off testosterone, embraced her identity as a lesbian, and is furious. “It is the medical industry and the general social attitude towards dysphoric people that failed me.”

The court concluded that blockers almost always lead on to hormones…

In America intervention was boosted by the Affordable Care Act of 2010, which banned health insurers from discriminating on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity. In effect, they were thus obliged to cover hormones for people who say they are trans just as they provide contraceptive hormones for women.

In 2018 the American Association of Pediatrics (AAP) said that all medical evidence supports the “affirmative” approach. But according to a detailed rebuttal by James Cantor, a Canadian sexual-behaviour scientist, none of the 11 academic studies of the subject reaches that conclusion.

I could go on, but I think it’s past time to wrap this up. I will include one final thing, some predictions:

  1. The number of angry detransitioners will continue to grow, and they’ll be in the news more.
  2. We’ll see more court cases similar to the Keira Bell one, and courts will start imposing age restrictions for various treatments.
  3. Possibly as early as 2021 the doctors, in an attempt to keep the courts from over-reaching will start changing their standards
  4. 20 years from now, and possibly a lot sooner, this phenomenon will be viewed as a cautionary tale of putting ideology before data.
  5. And beyond that this whole thing will be viewed by transgender activists as having ultimately harmed the cause.

I need some feedback here. This went on for a lot longer than most of my posts, was that good or bad? Should I add the “what this book was about” section to all of my reviews? I’m making a few tweaks in 2021 (details to come) and your feedback will help me with that.

Feel free to email me at We Are Not Saved (all one word) at gmail.


Books I Finished in November

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November ended up being a pretty chaotic month. As people who follow my blog closely may have noticed (are there such people?) my output was below average. Some part of this was due Thanksgiving, but mostly it was due to a combination of my Mother being in the hospital and the election. As to the first of those, my Mom was in the hospital for two and a half weeks with necrotizing pancreatitis, which is not great, particularly when it’s also happening in the midst of a pandemic, but by this point she seems well on her way to a full recovery. This last week she left the hospital and was moved to a skilled nursing facility. (Which I think is the new and improved term for what we used to call a nursing home, but I’ve never been entirely clear on that.) And we hope this sort of facility will be less of a danger during the pandemic than they were at the beginning, and less of a danger than returning home to be with my Father who’s still teaching school in an area of the state where mask compliance is somewhat less than perfect. The crisis with my Mother was time consuming for all of the obvious reasons, but also we decided that someone would be with her most of the time, and so I spent several afternoons up at the hospital watching Reality TV and Lifetime Christmas Movies. (Did you know they start running those 24/7 on October 23rd?)

The election was at least as much a drain on my attention as it was a drain on my time. I would frequently find myself, while in the middle of something else (like writing), almost involuntarily opening up a new tab to check the latest news, where numbers were trending, and of course, how Trump was reacting to it all. As that last bit became more and more the dominant story I ended up in several conversations with people from all over the ideological spectrum about whether Trump really did have any chance to overturn the results (I maintain that he doesn’t) and what things might look like between now and the inauguration. I ended up placing several bets as well (and not all on one side of the issue either.) As you may recall from my pre-election post, I expected this kind of chaos if things were really close. I didn’t expect it to get this bad if multiple states needed to switch in order to change the outcome. I will say that at this point in the process I think we’ve reached peak craziness (possibly with the claim that Army Special Forces and the CIA had a fire fight in Germany in order to seize servers with election data on them?) and having passed the peak that we’re on our way back down, but who knows?


I- Eschatological Reviews

Global Catastrophes and Trends: The Next Fifty Years 

by: Vaclav Smil

308 Pages

Who should read this book?

Of the many books I’ve read about existential risk, this one seemed the most down to earth, the least speculative and the best if you’re interested in short term problems. There’s no mention of AI Risk, or of mini black holes being created by the Large Hadron Collider, but lots of discussion of near-term environmental issues, and international relations. Does Russia regain its superpower status? Does America hold on to its superpower status? Will China’s growth continue? That sort of thing. If that sounds appealing you should read this book.

General Thoughts

As long as we’re on the subject of international relations, and the questions are already out there, I’ll give you Smil’s answers. He thinks birth rates and internal political weakness are going to keep Russia from being much more of a player than it already is. He acknowledges American decline, but emphasizes that it’s going to be gradual, more gradual even than people think. And finally he’s pretty pessimistic about China’s chances. In this area he reminded me of Peter Zeihan.

As China’s chances have been on my mind a lot recently, it’s worth diving in there a bit, though before we do it should be noted that the book was published in 2008, and certainly some things might have changed in the last 12 years, though if I had to guess none of the issues have improved dramatically. Rather than engage in a deep dive, here’s a brief collection of alarming facts:

  • China has 20% of the world’s population, but only 9% of the world’s farmland.
  • Moreover, as China continues to develop, the conversion of farmland to other uses, plus soil erosion, salinization, and desertification means this disparity is only going to get worse.
  • China has only 7% of the world’s freshwater resources, and those they do have are not near the population centers.
  • ”Economic losses attributable to China’s environmental degradation have been conservatively quantified as equal every year to 6-8% of the country’s GDP”. This is basically the same as their GDP growth, so they’re Red Queening it. Running as fast as they can to stay in the same spot.
  • On top of all this they have numerous demographic challenges, like a skewed sex ratio and lopsided ratio of old to young.

This list also demonstrates something of a fusion between the book’s emphasis on geopolitics and the environment. As far as the latter, he seems relatively sanguine about climate change and warming, which is not to say that he denies the impact, but rather that he’s far more concerned about the nitrogen and water cycles than he is about the carbon cycle. He considers excessive CO2 to be a tractable problem that we’re already making good progress on, not so when it comes to nitrogen and water. In other words we can generate energy through means which don’t produce CO2. But we can’t grow food, at least in sufficient quantities, without nitrogen fertilizer and lots of water. Perhaps in the short term the consequences are not as severe, but over a long enough horizon there seems to be nothing we can do to avoid them, unlike climate change.

Eschatological Implications

Sometimes I kind of have to stretch to connect books in this section to catastrophic outcomes for the world, but not this time. Clearly this book is all about catastrophic outcomes, some of which we’ve already covered, but the other thing I try to cover when I talk about the eschatological implications of a book, is how it expanded my understanding of catastrophic risk. Here the most interesting bit is how close he came to predicting the current pandemic while at the same time, all of the recommendations he offered based on this prediction wouldn’t have helped and besides that he overlooked the largest impacts of a pandemic.

Smil is obviously aware of the threat from pandemics, and he spends quite a bit of time on them. He even confidently predicts that there will definitely be at least one pandemic in the next 50 years (the scope of his book) if not two. But then, having done this he focuses all of his attention on the flu, never apparently suspecting that the next pandemic might be a particularly bad coronavirus. In consequence of his prediction that it will be a new flu variant, he recommends as a mitigation strategy stockpiling Tamiflu, which as far as I can tell has not been shown to do anything for people suffering from COVID.

From this assumption that it will be the flu, he then predicts that if we follow his recommendations while we won’t be able to stop the global spread of the disease (air travel is too ubiquitous) that we can use Tamiflu to knock the R to an acceptable level and that will be that. He does mention the potential psychological toll of the disease, but just like everyone else, he doesn’t foresee the vast economic disruption a pandemic would bring, in particular all the people who end up being unemployed. 

The point, as usual, being that predicting the future is tough. Essentially he got everything but the identity of the pathogen correct. (He even correctly predicted that it would come out of South China.) But because of that one mistake his recommendations didn’t help, and even though it was unrelated to that mistake, he also completely missed the financial toll. But none of this is to say that we won’t have a flu pandemic and when that happens a stockpile of Tamiflu would sure come in handy. Meaning the moral from all this would seem to be:

  1. Predicting the future is tough.
  2. But we don’t want to ignore those predictions either
  3. And we particularly don’t want to use one danger as an excuse to reduce our preparedness for other dangers. The fact that Tamiflu didn’t help with this pandemic doesn’t mean we should get rid of our stockpiles, if anything the pandemic should be our cue to stockpile even more.

The Autobiography of Malcolm X: As Told to Alex Haley

By: Malcolm X (Author), Alex Haley (Author), Laurence Fishburne (Narrator)

460 Pages

Who should read this book?

I found this book to be fascinating, and I would say that it, along with the next book I’m reviewing (Gang Leader For a Day), are much better books for understanding racism and Black America than White Fragility (which I read back in June). I cannot compare it yet to the other current favorite, How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi. Though I imagine eventually I will. I was actually thinking about slipping it in last month, but it didn’t happen. Though I suspect that when it happens I will still think these books are better.

General Thoughts

Just because I said that this book gives a better understanding does not mean that it gives a true understanding, and it definitely doesn’t mean that I have a complete understanding, but I think whatever meager understanding I do have has been significantly enhanced by reading this book and the next.

Going into the book I didn’t know much about Malcolm X. In my mind, Martin Luther King Jr. was the non-violent side of the civil rights struggle while Malcom X occupied the more muscular side. I knew he had been assassinated, and I knew he was Muslim and had been to Mecca, and probably a couple of other miscellaneous things besides, but that was about it. Which is my setup for saying that it was a far better story than I would have thought. It’s an excellent autobiography and a pretty unbelievable story even without the larger historical context. It was widely believed that his father was also assassinated. His mother ended up being institionalized in a mental hospital for decades. Shortly thereafter Malcolm went first to juvenile detention, then to a foster family at a nearly all white junior high, where he was near the top of his class, before getting fed up and moving first to Boston, and then later, when he was only 17, to Harlem where he made a good living as a hustler, before eventually being arrested. He joined the Nation of Islam (which is it’s own very strange thing) while in jail, eventually becoming their most outspoken advocate, only to later be repudiated by their leader Elijah Muhammad (who Malcom felt intense, and I mean intense loyalty to). And finally, it was also this organization, most likely, who sent the men who killed him.

There’s a lot to get into, but I already feel somewhat unqualified to offer much commentary so I’ll just briefly list some more things I found interesting:

  • It felt like there were a lot of parallels between the current moment and the one we’re in right now. As if we’ve spent a lot of time, money, and effort without making much of a dent in the problem, or at least without making much dent in how the problem is perceived. The language used by Malcolm X is very similar to the language being used today.
  • There’s a major theme in the book of black men preferring white women and vice versa, which I’m not passing judgement on, I’m just putting it out there because it surprised me. 
  • As a Muslim, much of what Malcolm recommends seems very conservative. Blacks need to stop drinking and doing drugs, get married, dress in suits, pray, etc.
  • In general, though I think most people already knew this, he was wary of the “white man” doing anything, and was a staunch “Black Nationalist”.

Finally a quote:

Revolution is bloody. Revolution is hostile. Revolution knows no compromise. Revolution overturns and destroys everything that gets in its way. And you, sitting around here like a knot on the wall, saying, “I’m going to love these folks no matter how much they hate me.” No, you need a revolution. Whoever heard of a revolution where they lock arms, as Reverend Cleage was pointing out beautifully, singing “We Shall Overcome”? Just tell me. You don’t do that in a revolution. You don’t do any singing; you’re too busy swinging.

Eschatological Implications

I’ll be combining this book with the next. 


Gang Leader for a Day: A Rogue Sociologist Takes to the Streets 

By: Sudhir Venkatesh

320 Pages

Who should read this book?

Venkatesh is best known for his collaboration with the Steven Leavitt and Stephen Dubnar, the Freakonomics guys, and so I went in thinking this book was going to mostly be about the way in which the economics, structures and incentives of gangs are very similar to the economics, structures and incentives of corporations. And certainly there is a lot of that in there. But what I didn’t know going in was how much it was going to reveal about the de facto governance  and politics of the Chicago Projects, which, similar to the Malcolm X biography, was very illuminating. Far more illuminating than any of the current pieces I’ve come across on Social Justice.

General Thoughts

Speaking of governance, it’s the gang leader, JT, who Venkatesh befriends that gets all the attention, but I found Ms. Bailey to be far more interesting. She’s the nominally elected community representative of the projects, the one who liaisons with the housing authority and sometimes the cops. She initially comes across as an island of calm benevolence in the sea of disorder and despair, but by the end I viewed her as more akin to a mafia boss, or maybe a very adept but also very corrupt union leader. 

One story to illustrate things. Venkatesh goes around to all the people in the projects and asks them how they make money in the informal economy and how much money that is. He interviews everyone from the handyman/auto mechanic to pimps and prostitutes. Basically everyone he can get his hands on. By this point he’s gained their trust and they are remarkably candid with him. Later he’s in Ms. Bailey’s office with her and JT and they ask him what people told him. So Venkatesh, who’s naivete is a constant theme, tells them everything. Well given that JT is the local gang leader, it’s unsurprising that he skims a percentage of everything that goes on in his territory. It’s also unsurprising, given this adversarial relationship, that the people in the territory have been hiding some of what they make. The final unsurprising bit is that when Venkatesh reveals their true earnings to JT, he immediately demands the money they’ve been withholding (it should go without saying that this is under threat of violence). What is surprising, is that Ms. Bailey is doing exactly the same thing and has exactly the same reaction. Apparently gangs don’t cause the unregulated, essentially tribal environment, they’re a consequence of it, and so is Ms. Bailey.

Another thing that comes through in this book and the last is the issue of police corruption. Of course with Malcolm X you could argue both that it was long ago, and that the narrator might be unreliable, with Venkatesh it’s more recent and presumably the observer is more objective. This is one of the issues I always run into when I’m reading about the broader subject of immorality. The scope of immorality always seems exaggerated, but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m sheltered and don’t see it, or if it’s because the people reporting it have a selection bias where the really bad instances get remembered and reported on. Some books, including Malcolm X’s, give the impression that all rich people are secretly engaged in seriously depraved sexual behavior, and these books will offer up numerous anecdotes in support of that assertion. And with all such anecdotes, I’m never sure what that translates to in percentages. Certainly some rich people live secretly depraved lives, and some police are definitely corrupt, but clearly not all of them. But how much should that factor into the current fight over police brutality? I’m not sure.

Eschatological Implications

The central question of both of these books and indeed of White Fragility and How to Be an Antiracist is what should be done about racial tensions, disparities and injustices? And having read both books I don’t know that I’ve come away with any additional suggestions. And I wonder whether I should even pursue the subject, but since it might contribute to your decision to read the book, and probably the more people who read these books the better, I’m going to proceed.

Malcolm X divided things into three potential buckets: integration, segregation, and separation, and advocated for the latter. Initially it might seem like segregation and separation have a lot in common, except perhaps status, but Malcom X seemed to be arguing that segregation was a combination of integration and separation with the choice between being made on the basis of what most helped in the advancement of whites. For instance integrating blacks economically (using their labor), but separating them educationally, that sort of thing. 

If I take this framework and try to apply it to today’s situation (a dangerous activity) I feel like one might be able to say that we’re moving back towards segregation except now we choose integration or separation based on what will most help the advancement of blacks. And perhaps that’s entirely fair, but I also think an argument could be made that segregation might be wrong regardless who it’s in service of. And a lot of people have made that argument and the debate continues. But even if we decide that this new form of segregation is appropriate in order to rectify historical injustices, there’s still going to be debates on how to apply it at the level of policy, which takes us back to a discussion of Gang Leader.

As I said it’s set in the projects, and near the end of Venkatesh’s time it becomes clear that the projects are going to be torn down with its residents distributed among other neighborhoods. This may seem an example of reversing harmful separation and replacing it with beneficial integration, but if so why did all the residents seem opposed to it? 

I’m sure in part it was familiarity, and it also may have been a selection bias on Venkatesh’s part. He was mostly interviewing people who were successful in the projects, and they naturally feared they would be less successful in the suburbs. Another element might be fears that they were repeating a cycle in which the government temporarily throws money at the problem, just like when they built the projects, and then leaves them to decay over the next several decades before temporarily getting all gung-ho about another project only to once again later forget about it. 

Perhaps this is what Malcolm X was getting at with his calls for separation. If you’re looking to external forces for salvation then inevitably you’re also at the whim of those forces. Or to phrase it, perhaps, how he would have, “What the white man gives you the white man can take away.”


Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters 

By: Abigail Shrier

264 Pages

I had really intended to put this review in with everything else, but the combination of two things eventually convinced me that it should get it’s own post. First, as I’ve tried to explain it to other people it’s become apparent that they have lots of questions, questions which deserve in-depth answers. Second, it would be difficult to provide those answers if I’m trying to do it while also reviewing nine other books as well. So I’ll be covering this book in my next post. I’m sure some of you are filled with anticipation and some of you are filled with dread. Both emotions are probably appropriate.


II- Capsule Reviews

The Man Who Ate His Boots: The Tragic History of the Search for the Northwest Passage 

By: Anthony Brandt

444 Pages

Who should read this book?

I’ve always been fascinated by the far north, the vast expanses of Canada and Siberia where the population density drops to less than one person per square mile. I also like stories of exploration, survival, and historical mysteries. This book checks all those boxes (though much more Canada than Siberia) so if any of those items are on your list, you might want to consider picking up this book.

General Thoughts

When it comes to books of exploration and survival this one is better than most, but not as good as some. (For instance, I thought Into Africa: The Epic Adventures of Stanley & Livingstone was better.) Part of it is due to the territory, Arctic exploration was pretty boring, particularly at the beginning, and it mostly involved long stretches of waiting 10-11 months while trapped in the ice, interspersed with a month or two of laborious sailing. And some years there was basically no movement because the ice never thawed. Also as far as survival stories, the book included so many that none of them received much of the focus, and the one that needed focus the most couldn’t get it because no one survived.

So as I said I enjoyed the book, but the biggest thing I got out of it was a minor epiphany. We seem fascinated by 19th Century England. We still read Jane Austen and Sherlock Holmes. Jack the Ripper is the most famous serial killer and when we picture England we picture the Victorian Era, or shortly thereafter (Downton Abbey). And this book made me wonder if there’s something about the mix of danger and modernity that created the perfect alchemy. As an upper class Englishman (and the stories are always about the upper class) the luxuries of modern life (trains, ships, telegram) had arrived, but at the same time, there were still areas of the globe that were mysteries. You could go from comfortable domesticity to dying in a cavalry charge, or being trapped in the ice for two years, in a way that’s completely unthinkable now.

I realize that this observation is embryonic at best, but nevertheless I feel like there’s something there, an energy which people might touch on through extreme sports, or long backpacking trips, but which the modern world has made very difficult to access in its entirety.


Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations 

by: John Bartlett

1540 Pages

Who should read this book?

If you have a mania for quotes (which sort of describes me) then this is the book. It’s also a good book to read a little of every day (Which is what I did. It took two years). For most everyone else it’s great as a reference.

General Thoughts

I’m guessing you can imagine this book just based on what I’ve said so far, and I don’t have much to add to that. My one observation is that the quotes, which were arranged in chronological order by birth year of author, decreased in quality the closer that year got to the year it was published. Not only were many great quotes not included, many horrible quotes were. In particular the modern poetry they included was terrible, and from people I mostly hadn’t heard of (and I was an English major). It was a great example of the Lindy effect

Of course I imagine you also want me to include some quotes, so here are a couple picked somewhat randomly from the pages with turned down corners:

Science is a first-rate piece of furniture for a man’s upper chamber, if he has common sense on the ground floor.

-Oliver Wendell Holmes

The science of life is a superb and dazzling lighted hall which may be reached only by passing through a long and ghastly kitchen.

-Claude Bernard


The Golden Age 

By: John C. Wright

304 Pages

Who should read this book?

This is one of those books that takes place in the far future, and imagines what it might be like and what people might have done with technology. In particular, the changes in language and ideology that might accompany those changes. It reminded me of the Hyperion Cantos and the Quantum Thief. If any of that sounds good, this book might be for you.

General Thoughts

The big challenge in a book like this is creating a believable setting while neither being too opaque nor too pedantic (i.e. long sections of explanatory exposition), and from the standpoint of setting Wright does an amazing job of this, but from the standpoint of plot it’s a little uneven. Some of the scenes felt disconnected from one another, and scenes of great importance sometimes didn’t carry that weight with them, but rather you realized they were important only later based on the reaction of the characters. 

As usual it’s a series and at this point I probably will continue to read it, the writing and the setting were amazing, and perhaps if I read the rest of the trilogy the plot will be more satisfying as well.


How to Start Your Homeschool: What I Learned My First 5 Years 

by: Taylia Clegg Bunker

As far as length, it’s kindle and short, maybe around 50?

Who should read this book?

I feel like anyone thinking of starting a homeschool, but having no idea where to start would find this to be a fantastic place to do just that.

General Thoughts

This is a short book, but that’s part of its strength. It’s designed to be a non-intimidating first step. It’s length guarantees that it’s not intimidating and its content is perfectly designed for people taking that first, exploratory step. I really thought hard about homeschooling my kids, but in the end I didn’t (my youngest is now a senior) but if I had had this book I think I would have. It’s everything you need to feel confident about starting down the path, with links to all the places you’re going to want to go once you get a little deeper into the woods.


III- Religious Reviews

Destroying Their God: How I Fought My Evil Half-Brother to Save My Children

By: Wallace Jeffs  (Author), Shauna Packer  (Author), Sherry Taylor (Author)

256 pages

Who should read this book?

If you’re curious about the inner workings of the FLDS church and in particular Warren Jeffs then this is a pretty good book for that. Particularly if you want an insider’s account.

General Thoughts

This is a strange book, but then again the whole FLDS phenomenon is strange. The fact that it’s an inside account is both a pro and a con. It’s pro for all of the obvious reasons of providing stories and insight you might not be able to obtain anywhere else, but Wallace also obviously has an axe to grind which colors the account quite a bit. Now to be fair, the claim that people from the church messed with his brakes, almost killing him and putting him into a 45 day coma, seems credible, so it’s not like there’s no reason for his axe grinding, but it does complicate the narrative. And perhaps that’s the best way to describe the book, a very complicated narrative, that left me with almost more questions than answers.

Wallace Jeffs claims to have hated Warren Jeffs from the moment he set eyes on him. And the book is chock full of stories from their childhoods including Warren being a Hitler admirer. (Though I couldn’t find mention of anywhere else.) So far so normal, but then if this was all true, why did Wallace stay so dedicated to the church even after Warren was made prophet? Clearly there are some deeply interesting psychological phenomena going on there, in addition to the possibility that Wallace is exaggerating things, and I would have been more interested in examining things from that perspective. What keeps it going even after all the revelations? (I should mention that in order to describe Warren’s sins this book ends up in some pretty R-rated territory.) What kept Wallace in it for so long? How did the church not end up reaching the failure point of too few women for too many men earlier?

So yes, it was a very interesting book, but also a very strange one.


The Neal A. Maxwell Quote Book

By: Neal A. Maxwell 

396 Pages

Who should read this book?

If you like Neal A. Maxwell, you’ll like this book. If you don’t like him, or have never heard of him…

General Thoughts

This was another book I read a little bit of each day this year. (There’s a couple more coming next month.) That’s probably the best way to read a book of quotes should you be inclined to do so.

For those who made it this far, and don’t know, Neal A. Maxwell was an Apostle of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and generally considered to be one of the most erudite as well. I’ll end with a couple of samples:

It is one of the ironies of religious history that many mortals err in their understanding of the nature of God and end up rejecting not the real God but their own erroneous and stereotypical image of God. 

There is no detente with the devil. He knows that weak individuals make great dominoes. He knows that the collapse of individuals precedes the collapse of systems. This is how he has brought down senates and civilizations; he destroys societies by destroying individuals. We must build societies by building individuals—not the reverse.


If you think having a middle aged white man holding forth on the whole history of racial injustice on the basis of reading a few books is the kind of thing that should be allowed even if it’s not encouraged, consider donating.