Donald Trump: Plant for the Dems

donald-trumpWell someone with more legitimacy (at least in the political world) has picked up my theory that DT is a plant for the Democrats.  I believe this theory because he has actually made me consider voting for Hillary, and that is a turn of events I find hard to believe.

Carlos Curbelo, a Republican congressman from Florida, has stated,

“Mr. Trump has a close friendship with Bill and Hillary Clinton. They were at his last wedding, he has contributed to the Clintons’ foundation, (and) he has contributed to Mrs. Clinton’s Senate campaigns. All of this is very suspicious.”

Along with the fact that Trump has said he will run as an independent if he doesn’t get the nomination, everything points to: plant.  Even his hair.  Or especially.

Please, spread this theory.  Make all your friends suspicious of DT, not just the sane ones.

Play, Parenting, and the Fragility of Young Adults — The “Helicopter Society”

college-stressAn article  in Psychology Today by Peter Gray, a leading researcher in educational psychology, spends a lot of time lamenting the fragile state of college kids, which I am happy to say does not seem to be happening among my students (crosses fingers that this is not as much of a problem in the sciences, sorry humanities). But I believe it may be a general trend, and I think anyone concerned about the amount of play kids get and the policing of American parents will be interested in the final takeaways:

In previous posts … I have described the dramatic decline, over the past few decades, in children’s opportunities to play, explore, and pursue their own interests away from adults. Among the consequences, I have argued, are well-documented increases in anxiety and depression, and decreases in the sense of control of their own lives. We have raised a generation of young people who have not been given the opportunity to learn how to solve their own problems. They have not been given the opportunity to get into trouble and find their own way out, to experience failure and realize they can survive it, to be called bad names by others and learn how to respond without adult intervention. So now, here’s what we have: Young people,18 years and older, going to college still unable or unwilling to take responsibility for themselves, still feeling that if a problem arises they need an adult to solve it…

In my next post I’ll examine the research evidence suggesting that so-called “helicopter parenting” really is at the core of the problem. But I don’t blame parents, or certainly not just parents. Parents are in some ways victims of larger forces in society—victims of the continuous exhortations from “experts” about the dangers of letting kids be, victims of the increased power of the school system and the schooling mentality that says kids develop best when carefully guided and supervised by adults, and victims of increased legal and social sanctions for allowing kids into public spaces without adult accompaniment. We have become, unfortunately, a “helicopter society.”

The only other thing I’ll add is that letting kids not only play, but also experience hard work (sometimes we have to do things that are not fun but are necessary, like the dishes) will help them get through those (not rare) times in life that require hard work.

Divided Americans Live in Parallel Universes

Here’s something I wrote on Facebook on Nov 20:

I used to be very frustrated when people I knew and respected who had very well-informed, thoughtful opinions on controversial political issues refused to speak up about them.

Now I get it.

And here are two pretty clear examples of where my sense of frustration comes from. These are two Facebook posts from friends that appeared literally one after another in my Facebook feed. Other than obscuring names, I haven’t changed them at all.

Exhibit A

769 - Hell in a Handbasket Exhibit A

Exhibit B

768 - Hell in a Handbasket Exhibit B

So, let’s talk about this.

757 - TruthFirst observation: 100PERCENTFEDUP.COM and ADDICTINGINFO.ORG. Really, people? Really? These are the sites that you want to post to your FB feed? Look, I understand that no media outlet is purely objective. Everyone has bias. Everyone has an angle. But the reality is that big-name outlets like the New York Times or NPR or the Wall Street Journal depend, at least in part, on their reputations. And that sets boundaries on their crazy. This is even true of outlets that have an openly declared partisan affiliation, like The Nation or National Review. They have a viewpoint, but they also rely on being taken seriously, even by their opponents. Do you think that RAGINGPOLITICALCLICKBAITY-CLICKBAIT.INFO, which has no reputation to protect, is going to exhibit any of that caution or restraint?

The mainstream media certainly roots for one team more than the other, but when CBS majorly screws up Dan Rather gets fired and they make a movie about it. When FOAMINGMOUTHPOLITICS-AND-ADREVENUE.NET gets something totally wrong nobody notices and nobody cares. (And, more often than not, people keep linking to it anyway.)

Second observation: let’s just assume for the sake of argument that both the headlines are accurate summaries of the relevant events. Let’s say they are, in simplistic terms, true. Does that mean that the views which the articles are clearly designed to substantiate are reasonable? No. No, it does not. This is what you could call (quite politely) cherry-picking. The most important aspect of cherry-picking is that you don’t have to lie or fabricate to be wrong. Sometimes, every single thing you say can be true and your conclusion can still be so utterly detached from rationality, kindness, and common sense that it has passed “wrong” without stopping on the freeway to Crazyville to accept the keys to the city from Mayor Crazy McCrazyPants.

The point of posting articles like those illustrated above is purely to validate a pre-existing opinion that boils down to simply this: my team is angelic, your team is demonic. These articles come from mutually exclusive parallel realities where the truth is obvious, extreme, and absolute.

The problem with these kinds of articles is not that they are false in the sense in which saying 2+2=5 is false. They are false in the sense in which saying, “Today a stranger stabbed my son with a metal rod” gives a false impression if you’re describing your son getting his vaccination from a pediatrician. What’s lacking is context, perspective, synthesis, and analysis. We might have a couple of facts that are true in the strictest technical sense, but are they complete? Do we have the whole story? Do we understand what it means? Does it actually lead to the implied conclusion once other factors are taking into account?

We’re addicted to outrage. We’re high on the heady feeling of occupying the moral high ground. But that high is really just oxygen deprivation. The world is more and more complex and the way we interact with it is stupider than ever.

The saddest part, for me, is the extent to which people are willing to be mean to each other over these kinds of things. The fact is that the stakes are so incredibly low in a Facebook debate, even when the issue itself is so incredibly important. We confuse the importance of a news story with the importance of our little petty squabbles about it. The refugee crisis is a big deal, with implications that could shape our world for decades or even centuries to come. But your argument with your cousin’s co-worker about that refugee crisis just isn’t a big deal. It’s not worth being rude or unkind.

Now you could say: who cares if some sheltered, Western Facebook denizens get their feelings hurt? What does that matter compared to the plight of refugees fleeing for their lives or the possibility that innocent men and women will be slaughtered by terrorists? But here’s the thing: we cannot hope, as a society, to possibly rise to the challenge of those kinds of high-stakes, big picture questions if we lack the capacity to have even the barest measure of self-control in our conversations about them. One thing we should be able to agree on is this: even if we can’t agree on the right answers to these problems, we should be able to approach to them with maturity and empathy and rationality.

So what can we do?

Read more, and especially from diverse and established sources. Wait longer to write. As I prepare to post this, news is still breaking about a shooting in San Bernadino, California. No one knows anything, except that 1/3rd of my Facebook feed knows that this is caused by lax gun laws and 1/3rd knows that we’re under attack from ISIS I’ve been guilty myself of rushing to post the first and snappiest retort to a developing news story. It’s a bad idea. Resist the urge.

And lastly: cultivate relationships of trust, respect, and even warmth with your friends (real and online). There is truth in the wisdom the united we stand and divided we fall. There is very little that people of good intention working together cannot make better, and very little that people divided by animosity and suspicion cannot make worse.

UPDATE: I forgot to include a link to the best article about this that I’ve read so far: Damon Linker’s The moral stupidity of the refugee debate.

Climate Change: A Political Question

The Economist has a short piece on climate change and politics that is as obvious as it is interesting. The partisan divide on climate change began in 1997 “when a Democratic president, Bill Clinton, threw his weight behind the UN effort to introduce mandatory caps for greenhouse-gas emissions.” Political support of science often has nothing to do with scientific literacy (as the Cultural Cognition Project at Yale has demonstrated). “Knowledge of science makes little difference to people’s beliefs about climate change,” the article states, “except that it makes them more certain about what they believe. Republicans with a good knowledge of science are more sceptical about global warming than less knowledgeable Republicans.” Climate change also seems to a concern of the privileged: “The rich are more concerned about climate change than the poor, who have many other things to worry about. A giant opinion-gathering exercise carried out by the United Nations finds that people in highly developed countries view climate change as the tenth most important issue out of a list of 16 that includes health care, phone and internet access, jobs, political freedom and reliable energy. In poor countries—and indeed in the world as a whole—climate change comes 16th out of 16.”

What is perhaps most interesting is that despite the gaps in percentage, the trends tend to be the same for Republicans, Independents, and Democrats.

The General Conference Project: The End of the World, the End of Death, and the End of Shame

nopeFor some reason, I allowed Nathaniel to drag me into this 14-year scheme of reading a new General Conference session every week (you can check his post for the details). My first reaction was a big nope. Quite honestly, General Conference bores me. I don’t find it particularly edifying and frankly find the style and content of most General Authority talks to be lacking (to put it kindly). So the idea of reading multiple talks a week and then writing about them couldn’t have been less appealing.

And yet…

As I thought about it, the project seemed more and more worthwhile. I would become truly familiar with the teachings and trends of modern Mormonism. I would understand more fully what my parents’ generation grew up with. Furthermore, I would be taking seriously the words of leaders I sustain as prophets, seers, and revelators.

The April 1971 morning session was a good place to start. It combined the things that I both love and hate about General Conference. The first two talks were less than stellar. Joseph Fielding Smith’s talk was (what would now be) a typical, unremarkable rundown of basic Mormon beliefs. His outline could be straight out of a manual. The talk has virtually no scriptural references or historical sources. While this probably shouldn’t bother me, it does. Mormon theology has evolved and I don’t think many members or leaders are aware of its evolution, despite the claim of “continuing revelation.” Granted, this was 1971. The New Mormon History was just starting to gain momentum (The Mormon Experience hadn’t even been published). Despite these misgivings, I did like this line: “…The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints [is] the custodian and dispenser of [the gospel’s] saving truths…” Reminded me of Terryl & Fiona Givens’ claim in The Crucible of Doubt that members of the LDS Church are custodians of the temple.

Spencer W. Kimball’s talk was annoyingly alarmist, though intriguing from a historical view. Kimball engages in some inflammatory anti-gay rhetoric, being two years after the Stonewall riots. But considering the 1970s was a transformative decade for the LGBT community, it is interesting to see how some Church leaders were responding to the trends around them. Nonetheless, the “perversion” of homosexuality is not the main topic, but fits snuggly into Kimball’s apocalyptic rhetoric and worldview: “We are living in the last days, and they are precarious and frightening. The shadows are deepening, and the night creeps in to envelop us.” According to Kimball, the “world is now much the same as it was in the days of the Nephite prophet who said: “… if it were not for the prayers of the righteous … ye would even now be visited with utter destruction. …” (Alma 10:22.)” Our world is “sinking into depths of corruption. Every sin mentioned by Paul is now rampant in our society.” The “eccentricities and disobedience” of the youth are “laid at the feet of those parents who gave them an example of disobeying both government and God’s laws.” Among these sweeping statements, Kimball makes the following claim without a hint of irony: “Many voices, loud and harsh, come from among educators, business and professional men, sociologists, psychologists, authors, movie actors, legislators, judges, and others, even some of the clergy, who, because they have learned a little about something, seem to think they know all about everything.” Since I think the evidence is in favor of the world getting better overall, I found little to be salvaged from this talk.

However, Marvin J. Ashton’s talk struck home for me. With President Nixon declaring a “war on drugs” in June of that year, it is noteworthy that drug addiction plays a prominent role in Ashton’s talk. Yet, it isn’t the addiction or drug use that is Ashton target, but the reasons for it:

If we as parents and friends advise our youth that drugs are bad, evil, and immoral, and yet we do not try to understand why our youth turn to this evil substitute for reality, then the drugs themselves become the issue and not the symptom of the greater issue of unhappiness. We need to know why our loved ones want to run from their present life to the unknown yet dangerous life of addiction. What causes a strong, lovely, vibrant young person to allow a chemical to control his or her behavior? What is there at home, school, work, or church that is so uncomfortable that an escape seems necessary? If we were not faced with the evils of marijuana, LSD, speed, and heroin, we would be faced with some other type of escape mechanism, because some of us as brothers, sisters, parents, friends, and teachers have not yet been able to reach our youth in such a way as to give them the confidence and love they seek. Some of us are not providing the stability in the home, the respect, and the care that every person needs. They need more than Church upbringing—they need a loving home life.

"That's why I'm a drunk. When I'm drunk, I can stand myself."
“That’s why I’m a drunk. When I’m drunk, I can stand myself.”

Ashton’s approach recognizes the lack of human connection behind addiction. Without using the term, his description acknowledges drug use as a shame-based behavior: “May I reiterate that while drugs are a most serious problem, and while the Church is a flexible instrument in the Lord’s hands, we must not be diverted from our eternal and most effective course by problems that, though serious, are only symptoms of greater ills” (italics mine). The way to address these “greater ills” is to “strengthen their homes and personal lives through warm, loving reeducation around basic gospel principles.” Instead of responding undesirable behaviors with shame, anger, and fear, “it is imperative that there be love, understanding, and acceptance in the home so our youth can learn that only steadfast pursuit of God’s ways will bring a rich, happy life.” And though many “who are part of the drug scene tend to adopt unusual dress, hair styles, and other mannerisms which set them apart…we do only harm by rejecting them from our meetings and general fellowship.” He offers credible advice to parents:

Parents, let’s make certain our youth are not continually exposed to the idea that the stresses of daily life require chemical relief. Factual information about drugs should be constantly stressed rather than attempts to frighten or shame. We must try to rear our children so that they are neither deprived of affection nor spoiled. We must give our children responsibilities according to their capabilities and never overprotect them from the difficulties they will encounter. As sure as some adults—mothers and fathers—continue to sow the wind, they will reap the tornado. Let us more firmly entrench ourselves in the true purposes of family life and sow oneness and reap joy.

And what of those who feel they are “failing in the home” because of their wayward children?: “I believe we start to fail in the home when we give up on each other. We have not failed until we have quit trying. As long as we are working diligently with love, patience, and long-suffering, despite the odds or the apparent lack of progress, we are not classified as failures in the home. We only start to fail when we give up on a son, daughter, mother, or father.”

The contrast between Ashton and Kimball demonstrates that if apostles can see and address the world differently, so can local members.

risenFinally, Ezra Taft Benson offers a healthy, edifying testimony of our eternal nature, the Resurrection, and the need for an eternal perspective. It was an excellent follow-up to Ashton’s talk, reminding us of our inner divinity and potential: “As eternal beings, we each have in us a spark of divinity. And, as one who has traveled over much of this world, on both sides of the iron curtain, I am convinced that our Father’s children are essentially good. They want to live in peace, they want to be good neighbors, they love their homes and their families, they want to improve their standards of living, they want to do what is right, they are essentially good. And I know that God loves them.” But all these virtuous desires do not end here because of the Savior’s resurrection: “Yes, there is the ever expectancy of death, but in reality there is no death—no permanent parting. The resurrection is a reality.” Peace between peoples, good neighbors, loving homes and families will not end. They will continue because death has been conquered. I wholeheartedly agree with Benson’s declaration: “There is nothing in history to equal that dramatic announcement. “He is not here, but is risen.””

I take the good with the bad of General Conference. I’m excited to do so each week.

—-

Here are the other folks participating in this grand scheme who have also written blog posts responding to the Saturday Morning session of the April 1971 General Conference. (If any of the links don’t work, try back later. They are all coming online during the day.)

Beginnings and Endings

764 - Beginnings and Endings

A few weeks ago I wrote a blog post for Times and Seasons responding to a 1981 General Conference talk by President Hinckley that I found challenging. In the post, I worked through some thoughts about President Hinckley’s talk, and I included this sentiment about reading the word of modern prophets:

President Hinckley’s talk was given 34 years ago. I was a baby then, so of course I have no memory of this talk. I did not know that it existed until last week… And I must confess a sense of shame as I read it for the first time and realized that this past year was the first year (since my mission) that I even tried to listen to all the sessions of General Conference. How many more talks have been given over my lifetime that I have never heard? Never read? Never considered? I say that I sustain the apostles as prophets, seers, and revelators, and yet I have nearly two centuries of their official talks given in General Conference and I have never even considered that I might want to go back and systematically read them to see what they had to say. I think it’s time I change that.

Max Wilson, who runs the blog Sixteen Small Stones, pointed out that there was nothing preventing me from converting that sentiment into action. Together with a few others, we hatched a scheme. We decided to start with the April 1971 General Conference (the earliest readily available online) and read them all at a rate of one session per week.

I plotted this out in a Google Spreadsheet and found that, assuming General Conferences continue to include 6 sessions per year as they currently do, it would take us until 2029. Late in the summer of that year we will revisit the April 2029 General Conference and finish it up before the October 2029 General Conference begins.

Naturally, because we’re all bloggers and writers of some stripe or another, we also decided to do a post every week in response to one or more of the talks that we’d read the week before. So this post—in which I decided to write about President Ezra Taft Benson’s talk Life is Eternal—is the first in a weekly series that is going to go on for the next 14 years.

My motivation is pretty simple: I seek to take modern prophets seriously. As members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we believe that our leaders are fallible and make mistakes, but we also believe that they are inspired and serve as watchmen on the tower. I want to know what the watchmen have been telling us. I especially want to look across a really large volume of contemporary writings to see what trends, patterns, and themes stand out most prominently.

So, without further ado, let’s get started.

The first thing that struck me about President Benson’s talk was his optimism. “I am convinced that our Father’s children are essentially good,” he wrote, and then, “Again I say, our Father’s children, my brothers and sisters, are essentially good.”

And then I was struck by the simple beauty and simplicity of President Benson’s talk: “Yes, life is eternal. We live on and on after earth-life, even though we ofttimes lose sight of that great basic truth.”

I spend a fair amount of time thinking about death. Not in a morbid way, but with the attitude of someone who has a finite budget and aims to make the most of it. I don’t know how many years I will have, of course, but I want to have achieved basically two things when my time does come.

First, I want to have felt that I gave everything I had. “We should waste and wear out our lives,” Joseph Smith told the Saints from Liberty Jail. Time and energy are resources. We can conserve them in the short-run, but in the long run the objective is to spend everything. My father taught me that when I was young, and I decided then to do my best to live up to it.

Second, I want to meet my death with confidence. I’m too keenly aware of my own capacity for rationalization. I can imagine—if I was careless—spending a lifetime as an active member of the Church only to learn at the very end that it was a combination of wishful thinking and agile mental gymnastics that had kept me going that whole time, and that in the end I didn’t know—not really—what was coming.

It’s rather fashionable to discount faith as blind belief, but what those critics do not understand is that no one is more sensitive and apprehensive about the capacity for self-deception than a believer. This is doubly true for believer with an intellectual bent. Anyone with an interest in philosophical can easily invent arguments that take the risk out of faith. The problem is that what that leaves you with is counterfeit faith. Then you really do have nothing but wishful thinking and blind belief.

I’m not sure this is what he intended, but consider Pascal’s famous wager. The logic goes something like this: if you act as though you believe in God then at worst you will die and lose nothing (because there is no God) but at best you stand to gain eternal live. If you act as though you do not believe in God then at best you will die and gain nothing (because there is no God), but at worst you stand to miss out on eternal life. The argument is famous for its contribution to probability theory and decision analysis, but it’s also clearly an attempt to arbitrage our way out of risky belief.

Well I don’t think that’s possible. There are lots of temporal benefits from membership in the LDS Church: longer life expectancy, a warm community wherever you move in the world, a great place to raise your kids. These are all real benefits, and anyone can enjoy them no matter what the truth about Joseph Smith and the Restoration might be, but I don’t believe that in the end these benefits alone—the self-evident, temporal ones—are worth the price of admission. I don’t think they are worth the time we spend in meetings, the effort we put into our callings, or the vulnerability we incur when we tie so much of our lives to a bureaucratic institution run by ordinary mortals.

The real danger is in fooling ourselves into thinking that we can participate in the Church without facing the tough questions. If we let ourselves be lulled into a kind of passive, consumerist version of faith we run the risk of waking up one day and realizing that we got the cost/benefit calculations wrong, but not having the individual spiritual reserves to sustain our membership because for so long our spiritual witness has atrophied while we relied on the obvious benefits to paper over a need to ask hard questions and subject our faith to intense scrutiny. If we do not interrogate our own faith, then eventually life will, and our testimonies will wilt under the inquisition.

Or, returning to my fear, we might not reach our own moment of truth until we are facing death’s final question. Then, for the very first time, we may realize that we can’t rationalize our way around the final question. That’s the motive behind my second goal. I want to be able to face death with confidence because only then will I avoid finding out, when it is too late to do any different, that my faith is made of paper.

And this is why, returning to the talk, I found President Benson’s words so full of resonance.

Our affections are often too highly placed upon the paltry perishable objects. Material treasures of earth are merely to provide us, as it were, room and board while we are here at school. It is for us to place gold, silver, houses, stocks, lands, cattle, and other earthly possessions in their proper place.

Yes, this is but a place of temporary duration. We are here to learn the first lesson toward exaltation—obedience to the Lord’s gospel plan.

And also:

Yes, there is the ever expectancy of death, but in reality there is no death—no permanent parting. The resurrection is a reality.

Symbolism and allegory are nice, but they are not what I am searching for in this life. What I am searching for is reality. I want to live with the real sense that my time spent on earth is time spent at a waystation. I want to face death with the conviction in my heart, as sure as my conviction that a dropped object falls to the floor, that I will live again. That is something that wishful thinking and blind belief cannot produce. Only real, genuine, tested and tried faith can produce that.

That’s the kind of faith that I believe our Father wants us to have, and I think that is one major reason why we face a life so full of chaos, uncertainty, and tragedy. If things made sense, we could rely on rationalization and philosophy. We could escape the hard question until it was too late. But things do not make sense. The world is, as Camus noted, absurd. The hard questions dog us like the stubborn hounds they are. It is the very absurdity of the world that gives us the chance—time and time again—to cast aside the crutches of convention, of inertia, of rationalization, of tradition, of herd mentality, and of anything else that can provide a façade of faith to seek to try and find the real thing.

I won’t stop until I find it. I won’t be satisfied with anything less.

Here are the other folks participating in this grand scheme who have also written blog posts responding to the Saturday Morning session of the April 1971 General Conference. (If any of the links don’t work, try back later. They are all coming online during the day.)