How to Be Happy

It wasn’t until my mid-thirties that I learned how to be happy. I think part of this was simply growing older, maturity bringing sweet respite from many of the things one stresses about as a younger person. In more ways than one, happiness is often about running out the clock. But the hard work of adopting new perspectives and ways of living played a significant role. Depression, use of anti-depressants, and musings of suicide and the three-word note I would have left are years behind me. This is not to say I am always happy. One motivation for writing this piece is to have somewhere to turn when I lose my way. But I now possess healing balms for life’s wounds that I wish I’d found long ago. Of course, some of the following is obvious or should have been or was superficially known, but only through serious thought and experience did I come to truly understand. Perhaps all this will prove useful to you, dear reader, when you face the slings and arrows — when a loved one is dead or dying, when your own health or life is fading, when you despise your job, when you are struggling to find a job as your money depletes, when you’re overwhelmed as a parent, when you have no one to love and are lonely, when you are divorced or left, when you are regretful or embarrassed or don’t like what you see in the mirror. How hard it is to be a human being! I have in no way, thus far, experienced the worst life could offer; I write from a place of immense privilege and luck. But the older I get (I have now reached my late thirties), and the more hardships I face, the more I am convinced one can be content in all things, through reflection and philosophy. (And, of course, Bob Dylan.)

Be thankful for everything you’ve got. This is easier said than done, especially in truly dire circumstances. Agonizing chronic pain, disability, rape, abject poverty, homelessness, hunger, violence, prison… Such things cast a shadow over every point in this piece, and I don’t mean to discount them (though I will avoid repetition and simply trust the reader moving forward). Yet there is surely always something to be grateful for. Each individual will have her own unique tally. The sun on your face, the people that you know, the very fact you are alive and exist. From the more privileged (ableist?) vantage point, I am immensely grateful for my freedom, for a roof over my head, food to eat, the ability to walk and run and jump, to see and hear.

Make every day great. This is similar to the point above (many of these are highly alike, but just distinct enough, I find, to appreciate individually). Focus hard on making each day wonderful in some small way. Today I did some reading — that is a great day. Enjoy nature, see friends or family, watch a good film, exercise or play a sport, listen to music, do some writing. Find a way to make each day great, and boldly call it so, despite mental or physical pain. This mindset helped me a good deal.

Let go of wants and desires, relieve your suffering. How right the Buddhists are! You are angry, sad, ashamed, afraid, anxious, or dissatisfied because you desire something. Begin the difficult work of letting go — “That’s just a want, not a need. I do not need that to have a good life.” Say this to yourself every day. You may find it soon feels more and more true. Of all the items on this list, this one is surely the most challenging. I do believe that some desires can still be pursued (focusing only on what you can control; see below), but the more you let go the more they can be worked toward without painful emotion. If you crave something and don’t have it, you suffer. If something would simply be nice to have, you can be content without it but still take steps in a levelheaded way to add it to your life.

All things are temporary. Nothing lasts. More Buddhist wisdom. The temporary nature of all circumstances, states, life itself — embracing this is quite freeing indeed. Good things won’t last. Loved ones will move away or pass away. Such trials hurt less when I consider that this is the natural way of things. No need to fight it. I will treasure a good while it lasts, knowing it’s fleeting, and be grateful I had it for a time when it’s gone. Likewise, the bad things don’t last! The pain of losing loved ones will ease with time, your financial crisis is probably temporary, your embarrassment will pass — after months, years, or decades, awful events and eras will be a dim memory (death will take care of anything that persists). “Time heals all wounds” is a classic for a reason. Taking all this to heart helps you get through the dark days.

Every loss an opportunity. When the person you like does not like you, you lose your job, or your business goes under, look at it as a golden opportunity. Change your perspective. It’s the opportunity to find or build something even better. You may have to focus for a time on the negatives of the things you lost. (I admit this one might even be taken to a controversial, disturbing place to rescue the spirit from unhappiness. The grief of a loved one’s death may be lessened by finding silver linings, not just the common, outward-facing “He’s no longer suffering, he’s at peace now” but also the shame-inducing, supposedly selfish “I no longer have to care for him each day, I am free as well.”)

You can’t change the past, only your perspective — which is almost as good. What if the disasters of your past could be seen as positives? As events that taught you valuable lessons? And made you a wiser, stronger, better person in some way?

Life is a river. You mostly can’t control where you’re going. Let go! Stoicism emphasizes that much of what happens to us is beyond our control, and that we must only focus on what we can control, which can bring much peace. (Helpfully, the philosophy stresses other perspective changes and premeditatio malorum, imagining potential hardships to be more mentally and emotionally prepared for them.) Indeed, the River of Life takes us to places we never thought we would go. To places of great joy and great sorrow, and some that are simply bizarre. On the River you can paddle and steer a little bit, and even get off entirely, hopefully leaving a note of more than three words. But it’s going to take you where it will. (Some think it’s God’s Plan, seeking comfort and happiness in the being who allows or sends the miseries.) When I find myself in times of trouble, I accept that this is simply where life brought me. I can then be more content — let it be.

Things couldn’t have happened any other way. This was fate. I wanted to wait to write this piece until finishing If Free Will Is False, Destiny Is True. I invite you to read it. There are serious reasons to doubt that you could have made different choices in life. You made this or that awful decision because that’s who you fundamentally were in that moment, shaped by all prior experiences. To have made a different choice, you would have had to have been someone else, a different you. Impossible! Understanding this helps you let go of your regrets over the past or lamentations over an unsatisfactory present — open your hand, let the wind carry them away.

Everything in its own time. Why must everything happen right now, or when it is common? One way to help ensure your pursuit of desires remains casual is to break free of timelines constructed by both yourself and society. You may have wanted to get married by 25. Seemingly everyone else is. You don’t have to wear that weight around your neck. Change your perspective. If you’re married at 50, that’s wonderful! Embrace patience as one of the ultimate virtues. Let things happen naturally. Nothing can be forced. Everything in its own time.

Take care of yourself. The working, logical mind can’t always do it alone. Exercise, enough sleep, healthy eating, proper hydration, therapy, medication, meditation, orgasm, sunlight, fresh air, balancing time alone and time with people… The body keeps the score. Caring for it can go a long way toward building a happy life.

In this effort, I do wish you the best.

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What Is the Role of Love in the Trump Era?

Since the 1980s, blues musician Daryl Davis of Maryland, a black man, has sought out members of the Ku Klux Klan in an effort to befriend them. His friendship has convinced sizable numbers to throw out their white robes. I have thought about Davis often over the past decade.

We live in disturbing times. Rightwing extremism and authoritarianism are ascendant. The indecency knows no limit. Eleven years of the Trump age, and especially the last year, in which the horrors and absurdities have reached a fever pitch, leave little appetite for what is castigated on the Left as the soft, disgustingly liberal notion of loving thy neighbor. I am sick enough from the nightmare from which we cannot awake; do not sicken me further by asking me to love the fascists. Facing an assault on democracy and human freedom, much of the Left has come not to bring love, but a sword.

In late 2025, after rightwing activist Charlie Kirk was shot, I wrote:

For me, a Leftist, the Charlie Kirk killing brought a lot of different thoughts and emotions. Political violence is disturbing and frightening. This was an unacceptable act that will only make things worse. I don’t want to live in a world like this, where we’re all murdering each other over our views, whether standard or extremist. We want the temperature lowered. I can’t relate to any Leftists cheering this.

At the same time, and while such thoughts hardly lower the temperature, the erosion of democracy and the rule of law will make political violence in general, in other possible contexts, more difficult to enthusiastically reject, for whether you’re a 1770s American colonist, a 1930s German, or a 2020s North Korean, political violence at some point may be the right thing to do. This is not to say that America is at that point, nor is it to say I know when that point is, nor is it to say that Kirk’s murder belongs in this category of the acceptable (it does not, see first paragraph). It’s simply to say that the authoritarian trends over the past year and past decade have been quite frightening, reminding us of this spectrum where political violence is wrong in a democracy, but less wrong under other systems. We all know this — and it’s haunting a lot of minds right now. We don’t want to move a micrometer down that moral scale. Preserving our democracy and avoiding political violence is very important.

In America Is Simply Too Absurd for Democracy to Survive, I affirmed that violence is at times necessary and justified in the face of tyranny. All of this is to simply lay bare my sympathies for the Leftist’s (and most everyone else’s) view on the ethics of violence — turning the other cheek and loving your enemies is not always the right thing to do — while also confessing some liberal sentiments. (Of course, the radical Left has a rich history of nonviolent mass action, so this whole dichotomy is hardly set in stone.)

What is the role of love in the Trump era? To an extent, the Daryl Davis approach — the philosophy of Jesus, Dr. King, Confucius, Gandhi, the Buddha, and so on — is fundamentally correct. One may not like it. One might rather smash a Klansman in the face with a baseball bat. But if one actually wishes to change people, then friendship, love, and connection are necessary. As Davis will tell you, it does not always work. But being nasty or violent or cold to Trump supporters will not work — it will only entrench them in their views. You’re going to need kindness and perhaps earnest conversation. Those who have made it through the complex, difficult deradicalization process will tell you that exposure to targets of hate can be transformative. (Alongside Davis, consider black activist Ann Atwater and later-former Klan leader C.P. Ellis, who were forced to work together and became friends in 1970s North Carolina, immortalized in the moving film The Best of Enemies, which misleadingly sounds like a bad rom-com.) Plenty of studies support the obvious idea that friendship, empathy, and exposure can change political views in positive, if often small, ways. No matter how horrific things get, no matter how far the nation descends into the chasm, loving a Trump devotee offers the best chance of his metamorphosis. It would be a social good. It’s one of those things that we may not want to be true, but probably is anyway.

Of course, to everything there is a season. It is not difficult to differentiate how one might treat one’s extremist relative or coworker or church friend from the proper response to a dictator, his officials, and his soldiers, those more directly responsible for the terrors. As expressed in my post above and elsewhere, this is not to say we live in a dictatorship or advocate violence at this hour; there are many things that can and should be done first, especially nonviolent mass action (after 80 years, the general strike has been reborn in the United States: 50,000 people striking and protesting in downtown Minneapolis, and far more elsewhere around the nation, recently pushed the Trump administration into publicly backing down). Friendship and kindness to MAGA types — that heretical, vile, stomach-churning notion — would also come first. But speaking in general terms, it seems clear enough that more liberal and more leftwing philosophies can coexist. Love for the individual does not rule out violence against an authoritarian regime, nor vice versa. One could do both in a single afternoon. Love for the commoner, the sword for the king.

Some would argue that it is only from a place of immense privilege that one can suggest loving Trump supporters. No question it is far easier (and less dangerous) for some than others. But the more one reflects upon these matters, the less relevant privilege seems. If a black man can befriend Klan members, who am I to reject such love? How can the white man refuse to follow such an example? Earning the ire and scoff of many a past and modern Leftist, Dr. King (also a socialist), who lived in a time far worse than this one, said, as has been endlessly shared on social media: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” A shocking statement. A disturbing, inconceivable sentiment, given the terrors of his age. If someone like Dr. King can insist on such a thing, who am I to say he is wrong to do so? What arrogance and privilege that would require. Further, who could deny that it is the personally impacted, not merely ideological liberals and Leftists, who are the most important people for Trump supporters to meet? If Daryl Davis was white, would Klansmen see how wrong they really are about blacks? If conservatives and far-right extremists found themselves unexpectedly becoming friends with undocumented immigrants and trans persons, some hearts and minds would change. That is the cold, hard truth. None could deny the inherent risks of violence or deportation, the fear and anguish, and this is not to suggest the vulnerable be sacrificed on the altar of love and hope — no one is forcing Davis at gunpoint to get a beer with a Klansman to build a better world. It is simply to embrace pragmatism, to say that if love works, even just sometimes, then those who advocate for it or try to make use of it, privileged or not, are hardly outside their minds.

And there is another reason for the Left to think more like Christ (in whom I do not believe), since much of the Christian Right refuses to do so. Dr. King also said, “I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.” I have also thought of this repeatedly over the years, and cannot help but grow emotional. Again, that a black man during Jim Crow could say something like this. Hate is indeed such a burden. Sometimes it’s fuel, quite beneficial. But it’s also, as the reverend would put it, “internal violence of the spirit,” self-violence. It flays one’s mental health. Holding onto it is, as the saying goes, like drinking poison and expecting the hated to die — all the liberal cliches will find refuge here today. Who among us does not feel like she has been drinking poison for the past decade? Perhaps we are not solely sickened by the nightmare, but by the ensuing detestation Dr. King warned against. Again, hatred, like violence, at times must be unleashed against despots. It is difficult to imagine one without the other; they pour out together to drown and wash away regimes. I have always reserved any hatred for those at the top, those more directly responsible. I can carry a certain weight, one surely inevitable as long as I have a conscience. Those indirectly responsible — Trump voters, everyday believers in cruel policies and rhetoric and lies — I have never really had the strength to hate. Most of us, if we have not yet cut them out of our lives, have family, friends, and acquaintances who support Trump, whether or not we discuss politics with them. It is usually a bit easier to love them, enjoy their company — but strangers are no different than they. They are all together commoners. Hating them is too great a burden to bear — whether this is from an overdose of poison or privilege, the reader will decide.

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Republicans Are Calling Themselves Nazis and You a Terrorist

As the nation descends further into madness and authoritarianism (where “they’re eating the dogs” meets “they’re ignoring the courts” — it has been educational how sanity and democracy collapse together), one observes with increasing concern 1) how the perpetrators refer to themselves and 2) how they refer to their enemies. As with recent works, some quite lengthy (America Is Simply Too Absurd for Democracy to Survive), this writer intends to be a witness to such things, for as long as waning strength allows. After all we’ve seen over the past decade it is quite difficult to be shocked anymore, but we cannot allow the most troubling developments to be lost and forgotten in the numbing ocean of stupidity and horrors.

“The GOP has a Nazi problem,” Laura Loomer, rightwing activist, admitted in the fall of 2025. “And the more we pretend like we don’t, the worse it’s going to get.” A stunning admission. It was prompted by the Young Republicans, many not so young, getting caught praising Hitler, cursing Jews, and speaking of gas chambers for opponents. At least fellow Trump ally Loomer regarded Nazis as a bad thing. This of course was after the Nazi salutes given by Musk and Bannon at public speeches, which garnered no consequences, coming and going like the wind. Paul Ingrassia privately said he had a “Nazi streak” — and now serves as acting general counsel of Trump’s General Services Administration. An aide to a Republican lawmaker displayed an American flag with a swastika on it in his cubicle. Republican Nazis run for office in Missouri, North Carolina, Illinois, and elsewhere. The GOP even has a self-described “black Nazi.” These are chilling developments. While plenty of decent conservatives and Republicans have condemned these events (anti-nazis no doubt still in the majority), and even doled out punishments, it is impossible to deny that a Nazi cancer exists in the party, and that in the Trump era the kind of indecency that would have been political suicide fifteen or twenty years ago has become business as usual. The most blatant of evils has spread from the darkest corners of the rightwing masses and has reached the top. No, it is not wholly new — American Nazis infected Republican politics long before they celebrated the election of Trump as a new dawn for their movement — but it is more open and powerful now. Quite understandable, given Trump’s public embrace of white supremacist ideas and figures, his post-and-delete use of obvious Nazi imagery, and his reported private admiration of Hitler.

What Republicans call others can of course be closely related to what they call themselves. Trump labeling leftists “vermin” and declaring undocumented immigrants to be “poisoning the blood of our country” obviously echoes Hitler and other monsters. But there is a more frightening word increasingly thrown about (also utilized by the Third Reich against communist enemies), one more familiar: terrorist. Anyone who has lived in the post-9/11 epoch understands the power of this word: labeling someone as such justifies doing whatever you please to them, such as torture or indefinite detention without trial. At the very least, the epithet serves to generate fear and hatred, to say of someone, no matter how innocent, “This is the most despicable kind of human being” (Zohran Mamdani was, naturally, called a terrorist by bigots just for running for mayor of New York). Trump and his allies are continuing this American tradition, broadening its scope to increasingly frame opponents as despicable and dangerous, as “the enemy from within,” as Trump also called leftists.

In September 2025, the Trump administration declared Antifa a “domestic terrorist organization” and then released the notorious NSPM-7 memorandum that laid out the beliefs of Antifa terrorists: “anti-Americanism, anti-capitalism, and anti-Christianity; support for the overthrow of the United States Government; extremism on migration, race, and gender; and hostility towards those who hold traditional American views on family, religion, and morality.” While Joint Terrorism Task Forces and federal agencies were directed to investigate and prosecute violence (alongside some troubling language about going after “radicalization” efforts, i.e. free speech), the danger was obvious. Antifa is at most a bunch of small groups of socialists, anarchists, and communists; it isn’t one organization, and might be more accurately viewed as an ideology or movement. Thus, the administration has framed individuals who think a certain way (an anti-fascist way, pretty necessary these days), or belong to the wrong local group, as terrorists, even if they have never hurt a fly (this is not to say some haven’t). Just as horrifying, there is real fear that by using such a vague, barely-existing “organization” as its terrorist boogeyman, an authoritarian might crush nonviolent dissent: any leftist, liberal, or even conservative critic of the administration could be said to be spewing “anti-Americanism,” “extremism,” or “hostility” (equally vague terms), and thus be associated with Antifa, and thus be a domestic terrorist worthy of arrest. We are not yet living in such a nightmare, but the language of terrorism has been deployed. Activist Renee Good, though disobedient, was probably not attempting to hit ICE agents with her car in Minneapolis earlier this month, unless completely suicidal. Trump’s homeland security secretary labeled her a “domestic terrorist” immediately, pre-investigation. The vice president did something similar. After Border Patrol agents pulled a legal gun out of Alex Pretti’s belt and then shot him, Trump officials transformed Pretti into an “assassin” “brandishing” a weapon, a “terrorist.” Meanwhile, in Texas, Trump’s Department of Justice appears to be prosecuting standard protesters alongside violent offenders who shot cops — they happened to be at the same protest, but they are all condemned and charged together as “Antifa” “terrorists.” For Trump, rioters in Portland were terrorists. During the national “No Kings” rallies, Republicans slandered the peaceful protesters as terrorists and Antifa. A world where such slander of critics is followed by incarceration grows slowly easier to imagine, especially as the slanderers embrace the Nazi mark.

My writings often have more of a thesis. But sometimes it is enough to simply witness, to help ensure events of this age are never forgotten. To say these things happened. And that I was appalled.

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If Free Will Is False, Destiny Is True

Free will is like God: perhaps dead, its absence having something to say about morality (what Nietzsche meant by “Gott ist tot” was that the Christian God wasn’t believable, and that societal shifts away from him would undermine ethics), and yet impossible to fully disprove. By free will, we mean the ability to have done differently — the notion that the control we feel over our choices, words, and deeds is real, not delusional.

The more thought devoted to free will the less believable it becomes. Even the mixed, limited bag of scientific findings generates at least some skepticism. Two short books I found interesting take opposing sides in the debate over the relevant studies: Sam Harris’ Free Will (2012) and Alfred Mele’s Free (2014). Though over a decade old, these works collectively remain a valuable and accessible introduction. Today’s commentary is little different. Skeptics of free will

point to evidence that we can be unconsciously influenced in the choices we make by a range of factors, including ones that are not motivationally relevant; that we can come to believe that we chose to initiate a behavior that in fact was artificially induced; that people subject to certain neurological disorders will sometimes engage in purposive behavior while sincerely believing that they are not directing them. Finally, a great deal of attention has been given to the work of neuroscientist Benjamin Libet (2002). Libet conducted some simple experiments that seemed to reveal the existence of “preparatory” brain activity (the “readiness potential”) shortly before a subject engages in an ostensibly spontaneous action. (Libet interpreted this activity as the brain’s “deciding” what to do before we are consciously settled on a course of action.) Wegner (2002) surveys all of these findings (some of which are due to his own work as a social psychologist) and argues on their basis that the experience of conscious willing is “an illusion.”

Such interpretations have been criticized, but the findings themselves — for instance, that the brain lights up (milliseconds or even full seconds) before we make certain conscious choices — are largely taken for granted. The scientists and philosophers who believe in free will, such as Mele, rightly point to the constraints of the experiments, which ask participants to do mindless tasks. As neuroscientists recently wrote in Scientific American while arguing science has not disproven free will:

The neuroscience of volition typically focuses on immediate (or proximal) and meaningless decisions (for instance, “press the button from time to time, whenever you feel like it, for no reason at all”). The decisions we care about with respect to free will and responsibility, however, are ones that are meaningful and often have longer time horizons. Perhaps many, or even most, of our day-to-day decisions — choosing when to take the next sip from your water cup or which foot to put forward — are not acts of conscious free will. But maybe some decisions are.

Observe the ground that is given here. It is seismic that what we once regarded as a conscious choice — reaching for your water to take a sip — was actually a directive of the subconscious. Your brain began firing long before you “decided” to act. You had your orders, and you followed them, unwittingly. (Note that this is not marveling over the fact that you reached for your glass without an inner monologue — “I should drink now.” Most of what we do is done without the voice inside our heads speaking. But we still assume that we decided to do whatever it was, not our subconscious.) No, science has not shown free will to be false. But it has produced cause for doubt. If my decision to stand rather than remain sitting was not really my decision, it is at least possible that more meaningful, higher-order “choices” — whether to quit a job or propose — are also guided by subconscious processes outside of one’s awareness. We will have to see what future experiments bring.

Philosophy also erodes trust in free will. First, consider the experiential. Sam Harris, on his Making Sense podcast, once suggested we try the following. Think of a movie. Go ahead, any movie will do. Do you have one? When we do this, in no sense do we choose which film arrives. One simply bubbles up from the dark. Who chose it? Well, your subconscious delivered it to you. This is merely a fun introduction to the idea that we may not be as in the driver’s seat as we think, but it is imperfect, for at least the conscious self called out for an example. It is more valuable to simply reflect upon the instances when a random thought pops into your head. We’ve all experienced this. Have you ever thought to yourself afterwards What the fuck was that? or Where did that come from? The fact is, thoughts often come to us completely against our will. They are much like emotions — in the same way the brain inflicts anger, sadness, embarrassment, and so on upon you, many thoughts arrive uninvited and often without mercy. Sometimes we blurt them out, “speaking without thinking.” And of course you are pure animal instinct when you notice an object hurtling toward your face, ducking to safety. Is it so strange to suppose our “choices” might be automatic and involuntary in bodies defined by such terms, where thoughts bubble up from nowhere, unwelcome emotions burn, instinct takes over actions, lungs breathe unnoticed, and the heart drums unstoppably?

More importantly, determinism seems obviously true, as plain as the nose on your face. Think of a mistake from your past. Why do you regret it today? Why, it’s because you’ve had many life experiences since then, you’ve gained wisdom or a new perspective, you’re a different person. If you had been the person you are today back then you could have avoided the misstep. But the reason you made the choice you did was because that’s who you were in that moment. This is self-evident. To have made a different choice you would have had to have been a different person. And how is that possible?

Free will is the ability to have chosen differently. To legitimately choose among options before you at every present moment — for instance, to continue reading or to stop reading. We make a choice, but there is reason to suspect this is an illusion — surely we were always going to choose whatever we did. It seems obvious that each “choice” is simply the product of every moment that came before. How could it be otherwise? Each choice is the inevitable end result of every thought, feeling, “choice,” act, life experience, genetic disposition, and so on you’ve ever had. It is the effect of countless causes. That’s what’s meant by determinism. The thesis seems difficult to deny. How can one argue that who you are in any given moment is not the creation of all preceding moments (going all the way back to conception); how can one argue that who you fundamentally are in that moment does not determine the choice you make? This would make little sense. Every biological, environmental, and experiential factor determined who you were, and who you were could not have chosen differently — only a different you could have done that! Free will seems illusory.

This conclusion can cause consternation. Some see life as less meaningful or real, despite still being surrounded by the wonderful things that made their lives rich and full. As hinted at in the opening paragraph, people wonder where all this leaves morality. If all decisions are inevitable, are we really responsible for our actions? The killer was never not going to kill, after all. He was the product of all past things, how is it his fault? First, it must be said that the question of moral responsibility (like meaning) is often used irresponsibly: it is used to argue for the existence of free will. Free will must be true, we must believe in it, or no one will be responsible for her own actions, everyone might start killing each other! This is the fallacy argumentum ad consequentium, believing something is true because things would be bad if it wasn’t. Sorry, potential consequences don’t have anything to do with whether something is true or false.

Second, and more to the point, skepticism of free will does indeed weaken or reframe the idea of moral responsibility, perhaps stressing the need to build a more decent society, to improve the environment and experiences of all people, to change behavior. If poverty has something to do with crime, eliminate poverty. If a rapist rotting in prison is the result of his fate, not his genuinely free choices (recall that children who are sexually abused are more likely to become sexual abusers themselves; who we are is the result of all preceding realities), more mercy — improved prison conditions and rehabilitation, elimination of the death penalty and solitary confinement — may be justified. Regardless, the concerns over ethics and accountability have always seemed overdramatic. If everyone gained The Knowledge, judging free will and personal responsibility to be fictions, certain people might engage in foul words and deeds they otherwise wouldn’t have (they won’t be able to help it). But most people probably wouldn’t (they won’t be able to help it). This is because acquisition of The Knowledge would be only one cause in an ocean of causes that determine one’s choices. It might be a big one, but so is genetic disposition, a happy life, fear of consequences, and so on. You’ve read a few things in this piece that perhaps make you doubt free will a bit; do you now feel a bit closer to being able to rape or murder someone? Probably not, due to all the other factors that make you who you are. In the same way, laws and punishments, while perhaps reformed, would not disappear if everyone had The Knowledge. Even without belief in free will, we would still be vulnerable, living creatures: most people would still not want to be harmed (they won’t be able to help it) and would thus (again, inevitably) demand violent people be kept away from the general population, regardless of whether such criminals are morally responsible for their actions. As others have pointed out, we already do this. An insane person, a child, or someone who commits crimes while sleepwalking is not considered as morally responsible for misdeeds as your usual adult, but they are not exempt from law or restraint. (The overall concept of morality isn’t going anywhere either, because it is necessary to justify that desired protection from physical harm, as it always has been. Plus, to say we do not freely choose between moral and immoral possibilities is not to say such possibilities have no meaning, as if the latter don’t cause real suffering or violate holy scriptures. We would still want to teach and internalize ideas of what’s right, a powerful causal factor of a desired effect: the unavoidable “choice” to do good, avoiding real-world harms.)

If free will is false, destiny is true. Here it’s skeptics of agency that must be careful to avoid fallacy, because the positives that might come from free will’s nonexistence cannot be used as evidence or argument for such nonexistence. That will always be a temptation, because determinism is psychologically comforting. As already implied, it helps us let go of regret and dissatisfaction. Our most terrible mistakes needn’t burden us any further. You were always going to make that choice. It couldn’t have happened any other way. It’s who you were. Our present conditions, now matter how miserable, no matter what we lack, were likewise inevitable. It was always going to be this way. You can be at peace, grateful for what you have, what you inevitably received. See, determinism is also like God: so comforting we should be suspicious.

I cannot conclude with full conviction that free will is false, for while it is less believable now it has hardly been disproven. However, though armed with a healthy suspicion, I can appreciate the new meaning that would be wrought by The Knowledge. Destiny is a beautiful idea, and here it is fully realized, in the secular world. A few Christian sects reject free will and embrace the concept of fate (see Calvinism, predestination, theological determinism, and so on), but most are mired in the quicksands of their own contradictions: as a human being I was divinely created with free will, yet, as the song goes, “God has a plan for my life.” When God intervenes in this world and saves you from a killer, he violates the free will of two people. How free are you if gods ensure your life goes just so? All that can be put aside. There are no contradictions with the destiny considered here. Old phrases that used to feel so empty to us rationalists who reject religion, astrology, and so on — “everything happens for a reason,” “if it’s meant to be,” “you’re where you’re supposed to be” — are suddenly imbued with new meaning. And that’s a delightful thing.

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America Is Simply Too Absurd for Democracy to Survive

The descent continues. The facts are well known. Support for authoritarianism, closely tied to conservative ideology in an avalanche of studies, is frighteningly high among Trump supporters and Republican voters in general. Trump and his allies schemed to stay in office after losing a free and fair election in 2020, attempting to throw out and replace Biden electors, while a rightwing mob stormed the Capitol with similar intent, leaving multiple people dead. The rightwing Supreme Court ruled in 2024 that presidents are virtually immune from criminal prosecution — the law simply does not apply to them. They can order subordinates to do anything, even assassinate political rivals. Trump praises dictators and claims Americans desire one; he openly calls himself a king and positions himself, now accurately, as above the law. The madman and his cult are talking about a third term. A Republican in the U.S. House introduced a bill to allow this. At speeches, Musk and Bannon openly give Nazi salutes, with no consequence. With his executive orders on birthright citizenship, elections, and more, Trump willfully violates the Constitution, among other laws. His ICE underlings may even have worked to deport U.S. citizens, the children of the undocumented. Hundreds of U.S. citizens have been wrongfully arrested, without probable cause, due to their race and language. Foreigners here legally have been arrested with intent to deport, though charged with no crime, over their political views. There is increasing talk of stripping Americans of their citizenship. Trump, Vance, and others publicly question federal judges’ constitutional right to check presidential power. In March 2025, they willfully ignored the orders of a federal judge to terminate a deportation flight. In April, they ignored court orders to restore press access to the AP. They later disobeyed judicial rulings on allowing potential deportees to challenge removal to unfamiliar nations, and ignored stays of deportation. Republicans have made it harder to enforce contempt of court rulings and called for the impeachment of judges who attempt to block Trump’s actions. In the summer, Trump deployed Marines on U.S. soil against U.S. citizens, an illegal act. He declares emergencies that do not exist to take over police forces and send in soldiers to American cities. Several key Rubicons have been crossed, and the end of functioning democracy is increasingly easy to visualize.

Democracy is inherently fragile because it is voluntary, surviving only as long as public officials take it seriously. One must choose to obey federal court orders, accept an election loss, or follow established law because democracy is more important than holding onto power, than enacting ideology. Once those priorities are reversed, the house of cards quickly collapses, as we are witnessing. Yet the United States has several features that make it especially vulnerable to authoritarianism, whether under Trump or someone else in the future. We saw some of these in An Absurd, Fragile President Has Revealed an Absurd, Fragile American System (for instance: “A president can fire those investigating him — and replace them with allies who could shut everything down”). Everywhere we turn, we see absurdity — the great accelerant to our destruction.

The populace was top of mind after the disastrous November 2024 election that restored Trump to power. Clearly, voters cannot be relied upon to save a nation from the descent. Those familiar with history already knew this, of course, as authoritarians are often highly popular, plus polarization and the two-party trap grease the wheels (see Three Thoughts on Democracy). Still, the outcomes were horrifying. Trump lost the popular vote in 2016 by 3 million (winning power through the Electoral College, itself an anti-democratic lunacy that makes it much harder for the people to stop a tyrant), lost the popular vote in 2020 by 7 million, then won the popular vote by 2 million in 2024. The Democrats earned 6 million fewer votes in 2024 compared to the prior contest. Hispanics, young people (especially men), and other groups shifted toward Trump. 77 million people — a mix of true believers and the conservatives and moderates who dislike Trump but are compelled to stop the evil Democrats — gave Trump the presidency once more, after all we’ve witnessed, all his awful words and deeds, the chaos and insanity, his pathological lying, extremist policies, demagogic tendencies, attempts to undermine democracy and the rule of law, and his extracurricular criminality (found guilty of or liable for falsifying business records, forcing his fingers into a woman’s vagina, defamation, and defrauding banks and insurance companies). People simply don’t care. Not enough to stick with the Blue candidate or abandon the Red one. That someone like this can keep winning does not bode well for the American future.

Yet the 2024 election brought into sharp relief a more profound absurdity of the populace. It’s what one might call the know-nothing voter or, more charitably, the reactive voter. On Election Day there were worrying spikes in U.S.-based Google searches of “Who is running for president?” and “Did Joe Biden drop out?” And after: “Can I change my vote?” In yet another infamous, shocking street interview on Jimmy Kimmel Live, people were asked, on the day after the election, if they were planning to vote. Respondents were unaware the election was over, and at times unaware of who competed. In a post on socials, an Hispanic man was stunned to learn, after voting for Trump in hopes of lower gas prices, that Trump favored mass deportations. Earlier on, a Trump voter saw her undocumented husband deported; she had thought only dangerous criminals would be seized. Some voters indeed have regrets, seemingly not understanding what they supported. One must use caution with such things (the anecdotal, the selected for entertainment value, searches of dumb searches impacting search data), but plenty of people know nothing of politics, they do not consume the news, even in a social media age that makes it difficult to avoid. But some of them still vote! How large a voting bloc they represent is impossible to know. Thousands? Millions? There’s probably some crossover between know-nothing voters and swing voters. 56% of Biden’s 2020 supporters switched to Trump in 2024 (3-4% of Trump’s 2020 voters voted Democrat). In 2020, nearly 6% of Americans voted for the opposite party they had in 2016, with more switching to the Democrats. 13% of Trump’s voters in 2016 had backed Obama in 2012. There is an army of 8-9 million people each election who are unmoored from the parties; some in this number are probably unmoored from coherent political ideology and awareness of basic happenings. They simply react. In 2024 they raced to Trump over inflation, just as they raced to Obama in 2008 over economic turmoil. It was a fantasy to believe Biden’s dominant victory in 2020 was a repudiation of Trump himself, rather than a fear-based reaction to economic strife and COVID. The economy is basically always the top concern of voters, so it’s likely jumping ship in hard times hoping that the other party will somehow aid survival and prosperity, no devotion to either free markets or government intervention, to beliefs and ideology, to be found. This is understandable, as people are crushed by poverty and desperate to meet their personal needs, but it might spell doom for democracy. If concerns about authoritarianism and criminality cannot at some point, among moveable voters, override other concerns, or never even register due to lack of awareness, we are in grave trouble. Of course, this rogue element has the potential to save us as well, as the bewildered herd will rush away from a would-be tyrant overseeing a bad economy, but this only works as long as meaningful elections persist.

Around 90 million Americans, per usual, did not vote in 2024, another boon to a potential authoritarian. Many people are too busy trying to survive to pay attention to politics or vote; many feel it won’t make a difference in their lives. So many in this bloc do not know what’s happening either (the know-nothing non-voter), a dangerous reality.

Right after Trump was reelected, by the way, the federal charges regarding his election interference were dropped and the state case (Georgia) concerning the same crimes was postponed indefinitely, as sitting presidents are not to be prosecuted (Trump’s incoming Justice Department would have axed the federal charges anyway). What a delightful state of affairs, that winning the presidential election is a Get Out of Jail Free card, that our ability to stop a would-be tyrant through legal means is contingent upon the idiocy of voters.

We now turn to the presidential pardon, a massively obvious mistake from the beginning. Article II, Section 2 of the Constitution planted a bomb for all to see, and it was only a matter of time before it blew up democracy and the rule of law. Some founders saw clearly at the Convention of 1787:

There was little debate at the Constitutional Convention of the pardon power, though several exceptions and limitations were proposed. Edmund Randolph proposed reincorporating an exception for cases of treason, arguing that extending pardon authority to such cases “was too great a trust,” that the President “may himself be guilty,” and that the “Traytors may be his own instruments.” George Mason likewise argued that treason should be excepted for fear that the President could otherwise “frequently pardon crimes which were advised by himself” to “stop inquiry and prevent detection,” eventually “establish[ing] a monarchy, and destroy[ing] the republic.” James Wilson responded to such arguments by pointing out that if the President were himself involved in treasonous conduct, he could be impeached.

This naively underestimated the devotion to the madman we would see from his party in Congress. Yes, the House may impeach (if controlled by the opposition party), as it did twice with Trump (and before him Bill Clinton and Andrew Johnson), but the Senate will acquit, as with all these examples, and the authoritarian will remain in office. The Senate is unlikely to ever reach the 67 votes needed to convict. You’d need impossibly strong bipartisan support. A few Republicans — Mitt Romney, Liz Cheney, Adam Kinzinger — have been brave and principled enough to warn of Trump’s danger to democracy, but most in the GOP have shown nothing but slobbering fealty, racing to lick his boots.

Thus, any president bent on “destroying the republic” is free to issue pardons to allies, “his own instruments,” involved in such a plot. Whether you participate in a violent coup or an illegal political scheme to throw out election results, you will be forgiven — immediately if you were successful at installing your strongman, later on if you failed (eventually the strongman or his party will return to the White House). In January 2025, Trump issued pardons to the 1,500 rioters who ransacked the Capitol, most of whom had been convicted in court. Now, his political allies found guilty or accused of attempting to overturn the 2020 election committed state crimes, with trials in Georgia, Arizona, Wisconsin, Nevada, and more — presidents can only pardon federal crimes (that is, until Trump attempts to ignore this law as well). But any federal offenses committed by a madman’s cronies on the road to authoritarianism will be pardoned, and loyal governors and clemency boards can easily wash away the state crimes. The pardon ensures that attacks on democracy will simply go unpunished, encouraging further similar acts, perhaps one day fully successful.

The power to pardon will almost certainly not be revoked. You would again need two-thirds of the Senate, plus two-thirds of the House, to propose an amendment to the Constitution, then the approval of three-fourths of the states. (Alternatively, you’d need two-thirds of the states to propose a Constitutional Convention, then three-fourths of the states to approve the amendment.) Given the predictable loyalty to the strongman wielding the pardon, and the crazed polarization and propagandistic parallel worlds wherein Republicans frame any step Democrats take to protect democracy and the rule of law as an attack on democracy and the rule of law, this bar is too high.

Let us now consider the problem of a president who terminates our system of checks and balances by ignoring judicial edicts. As with Ford’s 1974 pardon of Nixon and his crimes at Watergate, one can find historical examples of this problem — for instance, Jackson refusing to enforce Supreme Court orders to Georgia concerning the Cherokee in 1832 or Lincoln defying the Supreme Court and suspending habeas corpus during the Civil War. Past affronts should offer no comfort (“Well, these terrible things happened then and democracy survived!”), but should rather serve as frightening warnings, for these weaknesses at some stage will be exploited to such an extent and with such malicious purpose that what follows will be far less rosy.

If the American system had a modicum of sense, the judicial branch would have direct control of its law enforcement mechanism. Federal judges and the Supreme Court can dispatch the U.S. Marshals to arrest those who violate their orders, but the Marshals are part of Trump’s Department of Justice! The director of the Marshals is appointed by the president and answers to the attorney general, also a Trump lackey. An administration that defies the judicial branch once would simply do so again, withholding use of the Marshals. It is difficult to imagine federal judges ordering Trump taken into custody for exceeding his constitutional authority (which is not protected by the 2024 immunity ruling), let alone a rogue Marshals office or Justice Department that would actually carry this out. Now, there is some room for action. Should a judge be brave enough, she could theoretically bypass the Marshals and legally deputize others to make an arrest. However, an authoritarian would likely refuse to go, rallying the Secret Service — and superior numbers — to keep the deputies out of the White House. Given this fact, that of inevitable confrontation, perhaps it does not matter whether the courts directly control and dispatch the Marshals, but the setup has certainly created roadblocks helpful to an authoritarian. (What help, of course, can we truly expect from judges? Serious judges lay down no punishment when Trump is found guilty of business fraud, while Trump-leaning judges recklessly dismiss criminal cases against him concerning the theft of classified documents.)

The military stepping in, while also highly unlikely, is probably the only real hope for preserving democracy. Should an authoritarian attempt to stay in power when his legal term expires, or refuses to follow the orders of federal courts, or pretends to change the Constitution on his own (or with a simple majority vote in Congress, because why not simply ignore the rules if it serves your purposes), one would hope that the Joint Chiefs of Staff — the heads of each military branch — would stand united in defense of the Constitution, leading a contingent of soldiers to the White House to remove the strongman and restore the democratic order, with or without violence. As long as the military remains loyal to a tyrannical commander-in-chief there is little hope. In the end, democracy probably only survives behind the barrel of the gun.

And it surely must be the military gun. There has been much talk of civil war lately, partly because it feels good to imagine mowing down the other side, whatever side that is. Armed civilian resistance on any large scale would probably be wiped off the face of the earth immediately. The advantages possessed by the American military are astronomical. Any comparison to 1775, or even modern insurgencies in the Global South, simply does not take seriously the absurd might of our military machine. Of course, fascism falling to civilian forces is not impossible, and at some point it becomes a moral duty to fight for freedom, despite questions of efficacy. Small-scale, underground civilian violence, akin to the French Resistance against the Nazis, could have an impact. The vigilante assassination of the strongman and other officials may help slow or stop authoritarianism. Of course, it may make things worse (though at some dystopian stage one has nothing to lose). Now, if the military became divided against itself there would be opportunities. Same for the states turning on each other, as in the American Civil War (though what a mess this would be, with essentially all states defined by liberal cities and rural conservatism, with less geographic-ideological coherence than the 1860s bloodbath over slavery). Those longing for a nonviolent solution, as I do, may eventually have but one final hope. The type of nonviolent revolution I described in Why America Needs Socialism, in which tens of millions of people shut down American cities, bringing society to a halt until demands are met, even at the risk of being massacred, could prove effective. But despite recent record-setting protests of 4-6 million Americans condemning would-be kings, this would be a tall order, as Americans have no modern history of national strikes — many probably could not tell you what that means. The United States is not France or India, whose civilians know what it’s like to shut down a nation. This is a serious impediment to democracy’s survival.

Two points of clarification. First, I think it is far more likely that nothing happens, at least not for a long time. No judicial deputies, no Joint Chiefs intervention, nonviolent revolution, underground resistance, or civil war. Even when an authoritarian illegally remains in office or more literally rewrites the Constitution. Life, and the descent, will simply go on. That is speculative, but suggested by the failures of the current moment (and by the relative passivity, at least for long stretches of time, of other populations under tyrannical regimes throughout history). What exactly in the past 10 years engenders confidence that a bold, strong, effective response is coming a few feet further down the pit, not too far past our current position where the federal courts are ignored? True, the worse things get the more likely dramatic action occurs. But all the talk of civil war and such probably underestimates just how dark things will need to be. Perhaps it is our grandchildren who will witness dramatic things. As a second clarification, I will simply reiterate that “the authoritarian” in this writing against whom the military and populace would act may be Trump or it may be someone in the future. Trump and his loyalists are doing immense damage to the democratic order, and have revealed frightening possibilities, but he may nevertheless leave office for good in 2029. The point of this piece is to consider the absurdities that the Trump era has highlighted and how they benefit any strongman looking to cast aside democracy and the rule of law. Trump may not oversee the full termination of our system. It may be someone else, someone worse, whether in a decade or a century. Perhaps much of the above is authorial bias, not wanting to personally witness the end, not wanting to kill or die, but I think reasonable possibilities are described nonetheless.

It is difficult to stave off pessimism, as little has been done to stop the descent. And there is so much more. (Apologies to both the dead horse and you, the exhausted reader.) Consider that in 2025, the Supreme Court ended nationwide injunctions, the ability of federal judges to quickly stop a president’s unconstitutional acts — judges can now only stop a president if a class-action lawsuit is filed. Since 2024, the Supreme Court has allowed us to pay politicians for their decisions, as long as it’s after the fact — it’s not a “bribe,” it’s a “gratuity.” We at least used to pretend to be against corruption. That same year, the Supreme Court ruled it cannot regulate political gerrymandering, leaving such a task, disastrously, to the states. Should state courts allow politicians to choose their voters, rather than voters choosing their politicians, this will help the authoritarian’s party carve out more seats in the House and elsewhere to maintain power, or else lead to the type of redistricting war we are currently witnessing. In 2023, the Supreme Court was actually just a couple votes away from freeing state legislatures from any regulation concerning elections, meaning not even state courts could stop gerrymandering (remember the abhorrent “Independent State Legislature Theory”?). And we haven’t even gotten to Christian nationalism, closely tied to authoritarian views. In 2025, we were one vote away from publicly funded religious schools; Christian supremacists would strip women of their right to vote if given the chance.

One experiences haunting feelings of inevitability, and not solely because the rot spreads unabated. After all, no nation will last forever, no democracy will last forever. Perhaps it persists 250 years, perhaps 2,500. But not forever. What if we happen to live in that particular moment in history when that inevitability comes to pass? The temptation to accept fate, to let go of one’s craving for an end to the descendant madness and thus relieve the mind of its suffering, grows quite strong. This entire piece, its headline and argument, gives in to that temptation to a large degree. Of course, one can never stop fighting, for perhaps we don’t live in that particular moment. Our actions can determine whether or not we do. And one takes some solace in the fact that democracy can be restored later. It did not last in Athens, Rome, Germany, and so on, but today the citizens of these places enjoy it anew. Poland, Brazil, Senegal, and others have rescued their democracies from the brink (many other countries failed to do so). We will see whether America can do the same despite its foolish people and systems — or we will see how long it takes to emerge from a period of tyranny.

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