The whole world is the baby that Solomon offered to cut in half. Those who are willing to make the world a pool of blood for the sake of their truth
prove that their truth has nothing to do with that blood, the heart that pumps it through our veins, or the sap that runs through trees. Their god is an alien one,
not familiar to any creature of the earth.

The appeal, the myth, and the unhelpfulness, of a the single-cause explanation

In order to process and make sense out of absurd violence, we often scramble to find a single explanation for its origin: He/She “…was a terrorist,” “…was motivated by religion and ideology” “…was a misfit, a malcontent,” “…was mentally ill,” or “…was in possession of firearms.” We desire to boil things down to one cause, probably because it helps us make sense out what otherwise seems to be unexplainable. (Also, we do this because it allows us to promote a specific political goal.)

I think this desire for the single cause, though understandable, is a mistake. It is a mistake because, for one, it is not realistic. We think we have found the single cause, until we think of other people who were subject to that same factor, yet never acted out in a violent manner. It is also a mistake, though, because it leaves us with little information about how we might intervene in order to prevent future violent instances. The single explanation leaves us only one possible place where we might make a difference, and causes us to overlook anything else that may have contributed to the violent act.

A more productive approach is to let the problem remain complex. This means refusing the temptation to understand the problem as “Factor A = Result Z,” and instead understanding it as “Factor A + Factor B + Factor C, etc. = Result Z.” When we do this, we understand that there are many, many points at which some influence may be had upon the outcome, pertaining to everything from social conditions which predisposition one towards certain acts and make them vulnerable to certain influences, to policies and laws which affect these social conditions and allow the violent act to proceed without interruption. This approach does not deny the uncertainty and mysteriousness of the individual human will. The fact is, preconditions and conditions may be nearly identical for any two people, yet each may respond in nearly opposite ways. Nonetheless, identifying preconditions and conditions in which actions occur allows for a realistic degree of influence (which is different than control) over outcomes.

Breaking down a problem in this way invites specialists in a variety of areas to become involved. This includes people who are parents, teachers, law enforcers, scientists, politicians, religious leaders, and even friends. People in each of these categories have unique windows through which they interact with the lives of others, and can alter one of the conditions that contributes towards that final outcome. This is not merely a hopeful, Pollyanna-ish perspective, nor is it merely a political avoidance of the words, “radical Islamic terrorism.” It is a realistic way of understanding the factors that result in certain people committing certain violent acts. Until we stop seeing problems myopically, as the result of simply this or that cause, we will not begin working towards change that has promise of improvement concerning outcomes of violence. The cost of this perspective, though, is that it makes us all accountable for being the best possible people towards each other, in each of the unique roles, relationships, and capacities we hold.

Blanket cynicism is as useless as blanket optimism at helping us to know what to do next. A lens that makes everything uniformly white is as useless as one that makes everything uniformly black. Sensation requires being able to distinguish between varying shades of gray, so that details can be seen in their nuance.

The idea that everybody in government is equally corrupt is useless when it comes to participation in a democracy, because democratic choices depend on using the little bit of power and influence one has to move things in directions that are good—or are at least better than alternative possibilities. The rage of some of my fellow citizens, along with their claim that the system is uniformly corrupt, leads one almost to conclude that they no longer consider the U.S. democratic project to be viable, and that they consider the chaos of revolution to be preferable to continuing to work towards solutions in our present system. I hope this tone can be moderated. I suspect many have not truly considered the implications of throwing out our current incarnation of the democratic ideal—the one we have learned about in civics lessons since kindergarten. Please take a moment to consider that the reason you have the freedom to vocally contest the merits of the present system, and the way it is being executed, is itself to the credit of the present system.

I cannot pretend that everything is equally bad, and will not give in to pressure to see things in that way. In the spirit of honoring nuance and the distinctions not only between good and bad, but also between relatively good and relatively bad, I want to say that I am proud to have Barack Obama as President. He has done a good job. He and his family have contended with public pressures which far exceed those which were faced by many other Presidents, who accomplished far less than he has during their terms. He has modeled a level of dignity, calmness, and grace, that will go down in history as exemplary. He has implemented programs, including the Affordable Care Act, which have improved conditions for the middle class and the general public—and which I suspect would have been lauded as landmark social advances, had they been implemented by a President who was not otherwise the target of social and political bias and discrimination. (I myself am a beneficiary of the Affordable Care Act, being able to get insurance for myself and my family after years of not being able to do so. The same is true for millions of other people.)

In that same spirit of honoring distinction, I would be proud to have Hillary Clinton as our next President. In terms of being able to maintain conditions necessary for the wellbeing of adults and children, in the U.S. and around the world, and those who face vulnerabilities as a result of economic hardship and minority status, she is better by far than the Republican alternative. Moreover, she is as deserving as anyone of being the one to break through the glass ceiling of U.S. Presidency for a woman. I believe she would assume and carry that mantle with dignity and grace.

By the way, I also would have been proud to have Bernie Sanders as our next President. I voted for him in the Oregon primary, because his candidacy appeared as a unique opportunity to address systemic inequalities and corruption. I did not vote for him because I saw Hillary Clinton as evil, though. I voted for him as though trying to choose the brighter of two lights—knowing all along that I would support either him or Hillary when it comes to the general election. I do not have to deride one to appreciate the other; nor will I.

I realize it is currently unpopular to express approval for one’s conduct in a political job, or to express optimism about possible futures. We gain nothing by concluding that all is hopeless, though, or that all is equally corrupt. Short of the demolition of our entire democratic system, we operate in the realm of relative judgments. In exercising our democratic privileges, voting included, we are deciding about which human beings will do the best job in making decisions on behalf of other human beings. We are not voting for a divine regime change, in which case—perhaps—our language of absolute good and evil might make sense. If we forfeit the ability to recognize distinctions, either through blanket cynicism or blanket optimism, we forfeit our powers of intelligence and discernment. We yield power not to what is best, but merely to what is most forceful.

A Reflection on the Culture of Name Calling

Negative name-calling, as an emotional style and way of relating, leads not merely with an accusation but with the verdict. It is as if sheriff, judge, and jury have all had due process and rolled their conclusion into the very introduction of who a person is. It commits the logical fallacy known as "begging the question," which means that the point which is in question (for example, the merit of a person being discussed) is secretly concluded and embedded within the question itself as an unchallenged premise. Name calling takes away the chance for the listener to examine the basis on which the name is given. 

Name calling is dangerous. Because it makes judgment upon the person being discussed a foregone conclusion, the next reasonable step in responding to that person includes the possibility of punishment, including everything from ostracism to death. Name calling is like walking around with a gun, cocked and aimed at other people, finger on the trigger--which also happens to be a hair-trigger. Ordinary discourse, when it is civil, puts a hedge between ourselves and this danger, like having a safety lock on the gun. 

Name calling packs judgement of the person all into the initial epithet, where it cannot be easily unpacked and assessed, because the emotion of the judgment has already been imparted, even if later questioning causes us to recognize the name is unfair. Name calling inevitably damages our image of the person being described, or injures our own emotions upon hearing it, in the same way that vandalism unfailingly leaves an uninvited consequence. It always leave something to clean up or to heal. Only eventually does it also damage the reputation of the one calling names, which is perhaps the most appropriate place for the damage to land. 

Name calling is also unnecessary. Once we recover from the initial shock or euphoria of hearing names being called, we eventually move to the question of whether the name is fair or not. Whether we determine it is or it isn't, we apparently already had enough evidence at hand to conclude the matter ourselves, without the dubious assistance of the hurtful name as our introduction to the question. The name calling did nothing but prematurely inflict injury by pointing out a flaw, the validity of which we have not yet been given a chance to consider.

There are reasons why name calling is a favorite tactic of bullies. And, there are reasons why we do not want bullies defining how it is that we talk in public life.