The most precious inheritance that parents can give their children is their own happiness. — Thich Nhat Hanh

Introduction

Deciding on a guiding set of principles to live by with the intention of getting the most from life sounds like a good idea. Perhaps I should say, the idea of experiencing happiness and purpose in life sounds like a good idea. I mean a purpose beyond just feeling good most of the time requires some structure or framework comprised of values, beliefs, and ethics which can provide a life affirming center or grounding while navigating the tempestuous comings and goings of life. Philosophy is a timeless discipline made available to assist those of us interested in such a pursuit.  

There are some who dedicate a lifetime to studying philosophy or the development of thought and knowledge as a guide to behaviors and the very nature of existence. To be sure, philosophy is a grand and historic academic discipline attempting to discern the universe as it is and exploring fundamental questions of how society and individuals should function within it. Unfortunately, as a subject it can quickly appear dense, abstract, and overly general or too specific, leaving a person feeling the topic is irrelevant and lacking in utilizable and concrete meaning. However, there are other philosophers who see their task as helping everyday people formulate their own personal philosophies as a way of self-improvement. Thankfully, philosophy need not be confined to ivory towers. It can also work on the streets, as it were, popularly sowing understanding and progress.

I’m interested in identifying a personal philosophy. Perhaps “identifying” is not the right word. Determining, building, formulating, realizing may be among better terms. Whatever verb I choose the larger question may be, why bother? There are a couple of reasons to bother. For one, philosophy, which literally means “love of wisdom”, is becoming more meaningful to me. Gratefully, I notice I’m getting wiser as I age, so peering more intentionally into the nature of wisdom is intriguing. Also, speaking of age, I recognize how the mind turns to a life review as we get older. Socrates sternly declared that an unexamined life is not worth living. Though a bit harsh, he makes a good point. Reflecting on how life is and has been lived shines a revealing light which can be useful in cultivating gratitude, personal growth, forgiveness, and a range of necessary corrective actions.

A lifetime of interest in politics, history, and psychology leaves me feeling incomplete. As engaging as they are, these disciplines do not provide enough guidance on how to live a good life. I’m drawn to exploring a more fundamental structure that better explains not only why I’ve lived as I have and what now makes me tick, but more importantly how I can prevail more satisfactorily during the years I have left.

I realize also, as late in the game as it is, that not being guided by clear moral standards and values can leave one unprepared or worse when the inevitable ethical dilemmas present themselves as they do in the lives of everyone. Simply saying one is ‘spiritual’ or ‘always kind’ or ‘being the best person I can be’ may not be enough to safeguard against damaging choices. Many of us find it easier to reject the advice of others than it is to replace their caring words of caution with a legitimate and bona fide set of convictions passionately embraced. I believe the younger one is in accepting this personal challenge of crafting a personal philosophy the better one’s life can be. I wish I could claim this had been my path, but alas I cannot.

Influential Philosophies

Identifying a personal philosophy is a luxury we now have given the times in which we live. Not long ago people were routinely born into a religious tradition complete with a step-by-step prescription for how to live one’s life and what pre-determined principles to value. Along with this inherited creed came the unambiguous and strict message that no questioning of precepts was necessary or welcome. This arrangement works well for those who readily accept faith and the infallibility of traditional thought, but for others who want to associate empirical evidence with conviction or inquire about the efficacy of applying old solutions to new problems, religion can be seen as deficient, if not oppressive.

Like most people my age, I was brought with a traditional religion. In my case, Roman Catholicism. As a child we often do as we’re told and attending church each Sunday morning followed by religious training or catechism after school each Monday afternoon is what I did until I was about twelve years old. Although it was far from a rapturous experience, rebelliousness toward this regimen was never a consideration. Indeed, by the end of this church-based indoctrination I wanted to explore the possibility of becoming a Catholic priest. One evening, when we were thirteen years old, my friend John and I scheduled an early evening chat with our parish priest Father Champoux to ask him how we could go about getting started with becoming priests. He didn’t hesitate to tell us that this is not something we should do. In fact, he was rather firm about it. Such was the start of my drift from the Catholic Church.

Despite not having been a practicing Catholic for the past fifty-four years or so I nevertheless need to acknowledge that the influence and teachings of the church for those first dozen years of my existence shaped much of my lifetime’s practical philosophy. Leaving behind for the time being the repressive and dictatorial manner in which Catholicism presented itself to children in the 1960s, (and no, I never experienced sexual abuse) I can humbly say there were indeed principles which were imparted to me by priests, nuns, and brothers, which I took to heart. Chief among them was a reverence for service to others. The call to reach into our benevolent hearts to serve our fellow humans—the sick, the weak, the uneducated, the elderly, the needy—is of profound spiritual and social importance. In addition, growing up around a lot of Jesuits as I did, who are members of a religious order known for their work in education, research, and cultural endeavors, gave me an appreciation for intellectual pursuits. Also, even the atheists among us have to concede that the social and interpersonal order society relies upon has many of its roots in old-time religion. For this, we can all be thankful.

So while acknowledging the importance Christian religion had in my early psychological, moral, and philosophical development I do not hesitate in declaring that adhering to a Christian tradition is insufficient for me to use in identifying my personal philosophy. I understand this is a brash and probably disrespectful declaration to make toward a religion currently practiced by nearly two and a half billion people. While not entirely dismissing the religious who claim their faith has all of the philosophy one needs with the added benefit of providing deeper levels of meaning and an exhilarating sense of amazement, I still ask why shouldn’t Christian teachings be enough for me? Why am I so special that Christian doctrine appears lacking? Quite simply, this religion, or any religion for that matter, is too doctrinaire, too obstinate, too pedantic, and too authoritarian. I may have been raised as a Catholic, but I was also raised as an American with a reverence for free will, individualism, and self-reliance. From a young adult age I noticed a discrepancy between the values of unquestioning faith required by religion and volitional decision making encouraged by democracy. I guess the liberating ethics of the Enlightenment appeal to me more than dogmatic loyalty to ancient rituals and scriptures.

So knowing which path I don’t want to follow exclusively in defining my personal philosophy, where do I turn? Well, the answer is a developing story. But it is taking shape. And one thing becoming clear is my personal philosophy will be eclectic—a cherry picked collection of values I find to be most gainful. There are so many intriguing and engaging approaches to philosophical thought it will be difficult and perhaps unnatural for me to select just one school. Therefore, what follows is a review of influential philosophies toward which I am drawn. Following my synopsis and in conclusion, I will cobble together a statement giving definition and clarity to my personal philosophy. An exercise such as this not only applies a strategy to help me reach my goal of identifying a personal philosophy, but may also serve as a stimulus or maybe even an inspiration for any reader interested in doing the same.

“There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness.” H. H. The 14th Dalai Lama.

Next to Christianity, Buddhism is the next popular practice with which I also have familiarity going back more than thirty years. Notice I don’t refer to Buddhism as a religion, although many others do. I don’t because there is no theism involved. Buddha never claimed to be a deity or divine, but rather a human who showed the way to enlightenment. That fact alone appeals to many westerners oriented toward secularization, but who are nevertheless searching for spiritual and ethical guidance. Therein was my original draw to Buddhism.

Through considerable study and practice, much of it during my thirties in association with the Friends of the Western Buddhist Order (now known as Triratna Buddhist Order), I developed some key takeaways, which continue to inform my philosophical thinking and outlook on the world. The concepts of mindfulness, impermanence, and egolessness speak to me about the nature of being human in the universe dealt to us. To be very clear, I am in no way making a claim I am anywhere close to fully comprehending these theories, never mind living in embrace of them, however I know enough that to examine their meaning and appreciate their gravity contributes to personal growth and evolution.

Mindfulness refers to being fully aware. Imagine receiving all of the unending physical and mental stimuli coming your way such that it is all perceived and observed, perhaps understood, but never fixated upon unless we make a discerning decision to focus on a given prompt. Living thus is beyond efficient. It is honing circumspection and polishing self-illumination. Meditation is one of the behaviors, along with intentional reflection, that slides us ever so slowly toward increasing mindfulness. A frustratingly subtle practice, meditation yields its attention-enhancing benefits drip by drip over a long period of time. Establishing a regular practice is difficult, but once started the seduction of always returning to it remains persistent. The gain of expanding mindfulness is worth it.

Another key Buddhist concept states that reality is ever changing and our clinging to any physical or mental entity is fruitless and ultimately deeply disappointing. Impermanence is a fundamental doctrine of Buddhism and a very useful condition to accept in life. Existence is “transient, evanescent, inconstant” according to the Pali Canon, a set of Buddhist scriptures. Notice how we tie our happiness to permanence all of the time? We develop a fondness or even love for people, places, and ideas only to discover sooner or later that they will somehow change or end completely, leading to angst. Preventing change takes a lot of energy that could be better spent elsewhere. By consciously de-linking our positive emotions to conditions which will naturally alter over time leaves us better able to live in harmony with others and with the natural world. If we are to deliberately align our happiness to impermanent objects and people, such as loved ones, doing so with the full consciousness of what the commitment entails, in particular its transitoriness, can help with preparing for the inevitable changes that will take place.

Related to impermanence in Buddhism is the doctrine of no-self or no-ego. We tend to each view ourselves as fixed and permanent individuals—at least for the duration of our lives. But this self-perception of our stand-alone selfhood is in direct conflict with the notion of impermanence described above. In other words, if there are no enduring and unchanging entities, then there can be no distinct and original self. Ego or self are therefore illusory and not real. Thinking this way can get abstruse and confusing, because it is so contrary to what we’ve always thought. Regardless, for me the importance of egolessness is that it helps me to not be as self-centered and set in my ways. By being able to take the focus off of myself with all of my opinions, desires, prejudices, fears, and perceptions I can more easily reorient to the needs of others and more clearly know that what I think I know today can and will most likely change over time. Together, mindfulness, impermanence, and egolessness contribute significantly to my personal philosophy.

Allowing myself to accept philosophical wisdom from the East, as I did with Buddhism, opened the door for me to examine other traditions from Asia. I have not dealt nearly as extensively with these other well established philosophies and my takeaways do not reflect the richness of these schools of thought, however two heritages stand out as relevant in my search for a philosophy of life. 

One is Confucianism. In the West, the philosophy of China’s Confucius (551 BCE–479 BCE) is associated primarily with an adherence to filial piety, or duty to and respect for one’s family and ancestors. Such devotion is actually a subset of a more comprehensive belief in the virtue of loving relationships with other people. How we develop character and usher in the good life is directly the result of the quality of how we interact with others, specifically the degree to which each of us practices benevolence, or caring deeply for all human beings. Also of note is righteousness or the building of personal integrity that avoids ethical breaches. Therefore, establishing nourishing and considerate relationships is the core to a Confucian philosophy of life.

The other intriguing Eastern practice is Taoism (often spelled Daoism). This philosophical system developed in China as well and is associated with the thoughts and writings of Lao Tzu, who is believed to have lived during a time of great turmoil known as the Warring States Period. Taoism prompts us to accept that uncertainty is prevalent in life and therefore to be careful about forming rigid assumptions about how life should play out. Flexibility, agility, and resilience are key attitudes to develop as we navigate through life’s ambiguities. We are called on to acknowledge that order is naturally accompanied by disorder, as is stability/fluctuation, sameness/change, control/disarray, etc. Wisdom and the good life emerge from our skill in self-regulation given these conditions. As Voltaire said, “Doubt is an uncomfortable condition, but certainty is a ridiculous one.”

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, but the ancient West also offers us philosophical traditions. Several years ago I ran into the philosophy of Stoicism and I like a lot of what I am seeing. I think I can guess what you are now thinking. So, he wants to be stoic— impassive, aloof, detached, and sporting a stiff upper lip. Unfortunately, common English usage has corralled and limited the meaning of stoicism. In the context of philosophy there is much more to it. Thanks to Massimo Pigliucci, an author and philosophy professor at City College of New York, who I have seen and heard on a number of podcasts, I’ve been introduced to this ancient Greco-Roman philosophy. Several features stood out to me quickly. Firstly, paying homage to a philosophy from the West instead of the East for a change seems refreshing and balanced. Secondly, one can take simplicity and pragmatism from Stoicism, making it applicable in the short term without years of concentrated study. Finally, Stoicism openly admits to being a means for unearthing a eudaimonic life, by which is meant a flourishing life worth living.

Stoicism began with Zeno of Citium in Greece about 300 BCE. In time, many of its  principles were incorporated into early Christian teachings in Rome. There are two key foundational ideas underpinning Stoicism: one precept makes clear the necessity for everyone to become a moral person and the other pertains to a concept known as dichotomy of control. Regarding morality, an individual is encouraged to engage in a persistent practice of the four cardinal virtues — Prudence or always choosing the right course of action; Justice or seeking fairness at all times; Temperance or moderation and self-control; and Fortitude or strength and endurance. By practicing these four easy to understand virtues, as difficult as they may be to put into continuous practice, one can achieve a moral status. Dichotomy of control refers simply to knowing what one can control in life and what one cannot. This idea can best be summarized by the Serenity Prayer composed by the American theologian Reinhold Niebuhr in 1934, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”  Stoicism offers us a practical philosophical method that seems well suited for these times.

For many years I have personally thought of myself as a Secular Humanist. This has been a thought, but until recently without much thinking behind it. Secular Humanism, which I’ll capitalize because in this essay I’m using it as a discreet philosophy, is a good fallback position for those of us who are not religious, but still recognize value in morality, social structure, personal responsibility, and that ethereal assumption of spirituality. Those of us who are hesitant to join a club of any kind can find in Secular Humanism latitude to explore deep life issues minus membership into a creed or persuasion.

Secular refers to a preference for non-religious institutions, such as government, as the most just way of organizing society. Humanism indicates the significance of humans ability to apply reason and morals to satisfy human needs sans divine or mystical intervention or origin. Together these terms stress religion not having a monopoly on morality or ethics; the preeminence of individual liberty and human derived ethical standards; and a reliance on science and reason for understanding the universe; among other core beliefs. Development of righteous character matters to Secular Humanists, leading to suggested ethical practices for personal refinement. The principles of this philosophy can guide a person to create a life of meaning and purpose, free of religious dogma.

There are many philosophical influences one can investigate in order to identify a personal philosophy. I have described the key points to some of these schools of thought, which to date have had great influence on me. However, there are other philosophies which I have come across more recently that have piqued my interest and which call to me for further contemplation as I consider my own personal philosophy. What follows are summaries of these philosophies defined with an emphasis on the principal features of each that I find most intriguing.

Above, in the section on Stoicism, I mentioned that the Stoic maxim leading to a moral life is to follow the four cardinal virtues. Pretty straight forward. But then comes along Aristotelianism, a philosophy developed by, you guessed it, Aristotle, and we find him pushing back on the Stoics’ simplicity by putting forward a concept of moral relativism. And this in the third century BCE!

Aristotelianism is largely about interpreting eudaimonism (a flourishing life worth living) through a focus on balancing virtue with realism and reason. Aristotle shunned philosophical dictates that were too prescriptive. He chose broader objectives for people to consider such as living to one’s full potential, capitalizing on one’s strengths, and accomplishing one’s chosen goals. Most importantly, he chose promotion of a balanced life as more meaningful than a narrowly specified moral life. For example, frequent drinking to excess can be considered intemperate and therefore immoral. But what if one were to drink modestly most weeks and splurge for a special occasion like a wedding reception? Despite the hangover the next day was the person immoral? No, would say Aristotle. He had a good time, possibly rekindled old friendships, and did no one harm. Give him a break. Overall, our party boy may very well live a balanced and quite possibly a virtuous life, despite an occasional overindulgence. Moderation leads to greater happiness and health for more people than does strict adherence to rigid rules according to Aristotelianism. 

This notion of realism in philosophy is also evident in the American philosophy known as Pragmatism. Nineteenth and twentieth century American philosophers/writers, attempted to define and give utility to freedom and free will for a population that had won political freedom during the American Revolution, but was still trying to figure out what to do with liberty at a personal level. They saw that a great deal of life is making it up as you go along, which can leave many feeling adrift. Freedom to choose can be both a blessing and a curse. Figuring out how to make lives worth living within an inherently unsettled world is slippery going. Absolute values can appear inordinately elusive and abstract, leaving reverent dictates impractical and unworkable. Perhaps the best we can do in an existence that leaves us free, but with constraints, is what Pragmatists Charles Peirce and William James advocated—just make one’s world better by pursuing beauty, truth, and goodness. (My apologies to committed Pragmatists for the oversimplification.) 

Freedom also plays a significant role in the European-born philosophy known as Existentialism. In fact, as Jean-Paul Sartre put it, we are “condemned to be free”. We didn’t ask for this life, but now that we’ve been given it let’s embrace our freedom to generate the best life possible through our choice of actions. However, while doing so, we need to be cognizant of several parameters: constructing a personal essence is ongoing and fluid and ends the day we die; with freedom comes responsibility for others, because we aren’t in this alone; and there’s much about life we can’t change, but we can always strive to be authentically true to ourselves. Existentialism is intentionally non-didactic and wary of conventional behaviors. Rather, it’s a license to be fully expressive during a life that may be short, but need not be boring or oppressive. Happiness and the good life come from continuous reflection on how to find meaning in life while being our own person.

You may find here a variety of philosophy that isn’t very complicated at all. In fact, much of it can seem like common sense. To illustrate philosophical simplicity and straightforwardness there is the Effective Altruism movement. Perhaps Effective Altruism can best be thought of as a moral system or framework. Effective Altruism calls for each person to discover for themselves what significant problem there is in the world that they can make a meaningful contribution toward solving. This may involve targeting charitable donations, working toward policy changes, or directly assisting those in need. The goal is to be an agent of change and improvement. It’s concrete, measurable, and principled. All that is needed is a willingness to make the world better than you found it. Not a bad commitment to make with one’s life. (I think I can hear the ghost of Ayn Rand groaning.)

Finally, who says philosophy doesn’t have a sense of humor and a party side? Such is the reputation of the ancient philosophy of Epicureanism. A while back I mentioned how the word stoic has been undeservedly confined by popular usage in English. The same holds true for the term epicureanism. We think of it solely as a reference to the pursuit of sensual pleasure, particularly when it comes to food and wine. This impression should be no more than a starting point for a richer philosophy that speaks to a fuller cultivation of happiness and the good life.

Epicureanism is something of the bad boy of philosophies, given the religious ascetic and Platonic-based rationalism biases against pleasure, which together hold philosophical dominance. Epicurus (341 BCE-270 BCE) was dedicated to helping people live happy and serene lives free of fear. He established the foundation for this approach to be found in nature, both in the natural world and in human nature. At its essence, nature expresses blossoming, flourishing, and unfolding. We can embrace these properties as a guide to life choices which strengthen delight and contentment. Relishing the simple joys that nourish body and mind, savoring the company of friends, and making the most of every minute of this one life we have is the practice of Epicureanism. As the Epicurean Frances Wright wrote in 1821, “Enjoy, and be happy! Do you doubt the way? Let Epicurus be your guide. The source of every enjoyment is within yourselves.”

My Personal Philosophy

I see myself as practical and therefore outcome oriented. It is important that I know why I would bother expending time and energy on any pursuit. The intended end result must hold value. So, with that in mind, I choose to engage in writing a personal philosophy, because I expect in doing so I will expand my personal happiness and find contentment in having a life purpose to guide me during my final years.

Living a philosophy involves reason, contemplation, reflection, and decision making. These thoughts are experienced, felt, and colored by emotions. What necessarily follows are corresponding actions and behaviors. I conduct and judge myself through a continual assessment of my performance or interactions with other people, the natural world, and the competing selves within me. But, it’s what I do that matters most.

Philosophy is a conceptual structure. The technical components of this structure provide its essence and substance. We are each free to construct our own philosophical framework. Our building blocks are the values which we endorse and embrace and the order and weight we assign to these standards. For myself, my goal is to shape a philosophy that reflects the principles I hold as sacrosanct and which I will cobble together in such an idiosyncratic way as to possibly satisfy no one else but me. And that’s okay.

Here I present my personal philosophy as a medley of principles to live by.

Relations with others are to be compassionate, caring, respectful, and sensitive to needs.

“To serve, not to be served.” Such was my high school’s motto. I continue to take it to heart.

My center is in me. My center is in you.

Living introspectively and mindfully informs how I will channel my energy and how I will preserve my physical and mental health.

Nature is my guide. Nature is my rhythm.

Remain agile and accept change. Resist change only when very clear-eyed.

Do the hard things like: Adopt uncertainty; Meditate; Breathe through anxious moments; Trust in life’s brightness.

Bask in the love of family.

Morality is always a worthy aspiration.

Remorse for past transgressions is a natural part of life’s review. Don’t shy away from past sins. Own them. Learn from them. Move on better.

Find solace in the righteousness of secularism.

Be balanced, measured, and moderate in all things.

Savor my freedom and individualism daily.

Don’t hesitate to be generous.

Feel grateful and delight in pleasures large and small that life offers…always.

As I write this essay the Covid-19 pandemic of 2020 is ongoing. This pandemic is breaking all of the rules. Among them is the enormous impact the contagion is having by upending national economies and the day-to-day lifestyles of many millions. To a greater extent however, we are being shaken from our oblivious slumber to suddenly find ourselves facing long term consequences of how global functioning and our individual lives are to continue as a result of this catastrophe. Unlike most news events in the modern era that seem to captivate attention dramatically, but briefly, before being swept aside by the next story this pandemic may well be a catalyst for changes in how the world’s citizens perceive priorities and policy strategies for years to come.

What strongly strikes me about the Covid-19 pandemic, aside from the conspicuous fear of contracting the disease, is that this may be an opportunity to jolt us from our provincial and staid world view, immersed as it is in a belief of limited repercussions for our actions, to rather an acceptance of the likelihood that we all share a much larger and more intricately woven realm of causality. Covid-19 serves as an example of a harsh lesson—the proverbial knock upside the head. It is a natural, albeit perverse, environmental phenomenon profoundly impacting our collective environment and forcing us to reorient how we live. We are being summoned to pay attention to something bigger than ourselves. Let us heed the call.

Our lives have always been subjected to the whims of nature. The conventional claim these days among environmental activists and other less strident observers is that we are witnessing, if not participating in, a growing tension between humans and nature. Certainly the data on climate change suggests a transformation is underway in the human-nature relationship. If we accept the premise that humans depend on nature, and given the power of humans to effect environmental change, that nature depends on humans, then the quality of this interaction becomes increasingly significant. As this insidious virus makes clear, mutual co-dependence of humans with their environment is worth a public re-examination and debate about how best to proceed, because something is evidently amiss.

Covid-19 (SARS-CoV-2), a type of Coronavirus that is similar to but characteristically different from flu virus, has been introduced into the human population with devastating consequences. An examination of how and why this has happened will help us to see if indeed this pandemic is part of a larger story about how we humans intercommunicate with the planet. And this story, along with any conclusions we may draw from it, can inform us about what are more sustainable and beneficial practices we could or should pursue moving forward.

As you may remember from a science class somewhere in your past there are tiny life forms known as microbes or microorganisms. Bacteria is the most commonly referred to microbe, but there are others. What all microbes have in common is that they are very small and are all comprised of cells. In fact, some are only one cell in size. Their purpose is to play a critical role in the overall health and richness of a biome and to a larger extent of an ecosystem.

Viruses on the other hand are a whole different kettle of fish. Think science fiction alien-like, ahh, thing. They have been creepily described as existing on the margin of living things. They are 1/100th the size of a typical microbe and not comprised of cells. Instead, a virus or virion is a collection of genetic material that encodes proteins. It is encapsulated by a protein seal and exists in one of two ways—either in a dormant state just ready to strike when a vector or host comes along or it becomes “alive” once it infects the hosts’ cells and begins executing its genetic codes, resulting in a rapid reproduction of itself. But of course, despite its treacherous demeanor, we shouldn’t forget that viruses are here for a good reason. By transferring genes they promote genetic diversity, similar to the role played by sexual reproduction. Life on this planet inherently needs adaptability in order to survive and horizontal gene transfer, what viruses do, helps life fulfill this need.

A clear big takeaway from the Covid-19 pandemic is that nature can still pack a wide-ranging punch, even to a population who thinks of itself as seasoned, sophisticated, enlightened, and prepared for anything. It can be useful to remind ourselves that epidemics and pandemics have occurred before and some fairly recently. History is replete with real-life horror stories of communities ranging from towns to civilizations being decimated to one degree or another by such invisible killers.

For example, during the war between Athens and Sparta around 430 BCE the besieged citizens of Athens fortified themselves behind what were called the “long walls”. The overcrowding over time is presumed to have led to a not yet definitively identified pathogen outbreak among the people. Impaired mental functioning, inflamed eyes and organs, bloody throats, and foul breath preceded death. Approximately 100,000 died.

Perhaps the most well know historic pandemic was The Black Death, also remembered as The Plague, which killed nearly half of Europe’s population roughly during the years 1346 and 1353. A now likely extinct bacterium was transmitted from fleas on infected rodents, causing death from Asia to Europe. The disease followed the Silk Road route. Once infected rats who stowed away on merchant vessels to the Mediterranean and Europe offloaded the sickness spread widely.

More recently, the so-called Spanish flu (1918-1920) killed perhaps up to 100 million people around the world. It came in three waves with the second wave in the fall of 1918 being the deadliest. The Asian flu in 1957 and 1958 killed 116,000 Americans. I could go on.

It is a fair hypothesis to state that environmental degradation and mishandling will lead to unintended and severe consequences, such as pandemics. Some would say we’re past hypothesizing as evidenced by measurable and demonstrable adverse ecological conditions of recent times. Given our obvious inherent fragility two questions naturally arise: Should we be interacting with nature in a more intentional and respectful way that ensures or at least improves the chances of better lives for all people? And correspondingly, how do we best mitigate and prepare for environmental disruptions that negatively impact our lives?

We can examine the veracity of the above supposition by seeing if there is a link between environmental deterioration and social welfare. Before proceeding let’s be clear on definitions. Environmental degradation includes: reduction of high quality life sustaining natural resources such as air, water, and soil; destruction of ecosystems; annihilation of habitats; wildlife extinction; pollution or the introduction of deleterious impurities into the environment. Social welfare includes those universal objectives that bring value and excellence to life such as: health and longevity; sustenance and abundance; peace and safety; freedom and equality; literacy and knowledge; or as Thomas Jefferson succinctly put it, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. If a causal link can be established between human activity that leads to environmental decline or disruption and the worsening of social welfare, then we have highlighted an urgency and potential outline for constructive policy making, business practices, and individual behavior going forward.

Now is an optimal time to look at the factual information showing a connection between how we interact with nature and what She does to us as a consequence. As I’ve indicated, Covid-19 should be seen as a wake-up call. It’s impact has been so substantial that there is no question all of us are now paying attention. What is most evident is that a novel virus has arisen and penetrated our world. How exactly this happened is still being examined as of this writing, however epidemiological and genetic evidence points to it being very similar to a bat coronavirus seen in China and that a transfer from bats to intermediary animals and then to humans occurred. A California microbiology professor Kristian Andersen directed a team looking into the virus’s genesis. Their conclusion, “We propose two scenarios that can plausibly explain the origin of Sars-CoV-2: natural selection in an animal host before zoonotic [animal to human] transfer; and natural selection in humans following zoonotic transfer”. In other words, new pathogens are likely to continuously undergo evolution in the animal world and they can transfer to humans who can serve as adequate hosts.

On the surface zoonotic transfer appears to be a naturally occurring process, albeit a potentially dangerous one. However, as the line between the habitats of wild animals and the human world becomes increasingly porous as a result of greater human encroachment we may be boosting the chances of zoonotic transfer and therefore of the disease risk associated with it. For example, this wet market practice being practiced in some parts of the planet, in which live animal species are interacting unnaturally due to human commerce may be extremely hazardous. Given how localized outbreaks can become global so quickly in the modern era, the danger of such markets should be called into question despite their cultural history and local importance. Developing sound methods of engaging with wild animal populations that reduce instances of harmful zoonotic transmissions would seem to be lesson #1 from this disaster.

Given the severity of the Covid-19 disruption to our lives it’s natural to yearn for a “return to normal”. Let’s unpack what normal was just a few short months ago. Edward Cameron is an Irish climate scientist and strategist living in Vermont. His description of the month before the pandemic started in earnest, also fondly remembered as “normal” times, is useful to contemplate. Commenting on stimulus money being spent by governments in reaction to the public and economic threat of Covid-19 he wrote in May 2020, “There will be a temptation to seek a return to the economy as it was on 31 December 2019. Should we spend these trillions of dollars and succeed in rebuilding the stock market, while still living in a world where more than 3 billion people live on less than US$ 2.50 a day? Should we grow GDP back to pre-crisis levels and still live in a world where 22,000 children die each day due to poverty and 805 million people worldwide do not have enough food to eat? Should we put people back to work but still live in a world where 750 million people lack adequate access to clean drinking water—killing an estimated 2,300 people per day? Should we resuscitate the price of oil and commodities and continue our long march towards climate catastrophe? Would we call that success? Would that world be a better world than the one we have now?”

Point taken. Going back to normal has a downside. Of course, we all want the security of living with familiar comforts and predictability. Such consolations provide us with happiness and mental health. Yet, it’s worth keeping in mind as we yearn for familiarity that many benefits come at an ecological price not often considered and these rewards are not as widely shared as we might like to think, thereby creating unresolved social tensions. A critical fact about epidemics historically is how they expose vulnerabilities in what had been normal prior to the scourge. These weaknesses inherent in societies’ living standards and political decisions are where infections take hold and tragedies ensue. Compounding the grief is the realization that while microbes and viruses seek to exploit soft pockets made available by human practices, it is those most at risk from these customs who bear the greatest brunt. We see this being repeated with Covid-19 as the infirm, poor, disadvantaged, and elderly are infected and die at the highest rates.

There are many like Edward Cameron calling for this crisis to be a moment of opportunity for ushering in a better world. Profound social changes have often followed epidemic disruptions. History shows social perspectives are altered impacting religion, economics, politics, and lifestyle habits in the aftermath of large-scaled cataclysms. Sometimes this leads to massive improvements like the loosening of the Roman Church’s dictatorial hold on Europe following the Bubonic Plague or what can result is disastrous such as the rise of the Nazi Party subsequent in part to the Spanish Flu pandemic. It’s naive to think there will not be a momentous reaction to the Covid-19 pandemic. The quality of the response depends on the excellence and persuasiveness of thought leaders and political talent.

An emerging line of reasoning hoping to direct the post-pandemic effort connects issues that often are viewed as separate challenges, specifically poverty, wealth inequality, and environmental devastation. Many of us first saw this amalgamated approach with the progressive left’s Green New Deal. The proponents of this process advocate for going really big, by tackling a range of environmental improvement and social welfare concerns, even racial injustice, all at once. The claim is there is an inherent inefficiency in tackling these problems separately or in a siloed manner. For example, if the focus is solely on emissions reduction to reduce global warming at the expense of addressing how agriculture, a leading emitter of particulate emissions, feeds the world’s population, then progress on favorable change is curtailed.

Despite the impassioned argument for going big with a set of multiple reforms simultaneously I’m left questioning the political practicality of initiating too sweeping of a reform movement all at once. An energized opposition is likely to become too much of an impediment, resulting in no substantial change occurring. To be clear, each component of a Green New Deal-type plan—poverty, wealth inequality, equal opportunity, and environmental devastation—seeks to remedy a critically pressing concern. And viewed holistically, a thread can be found linking these issues. However, making legislative progress on any one of these in isolation is a herculean task. Instituting meaningful policy on all of them together in a single comprehensive move seems like a very heavy lift indeed. So, whereas I can appreciate the desire to link environmental and social action at a policy level, the legislative impediments arising from this strategy could very likely weaken and dilute the attempt.

That said, I nevertheless find Cameron’s reference to socio-ecological resilience to be quite informative and promising. To be more specific, I find the term ‘resilience’ appealing, especially in the context of strategic resilience, which I believe is his intention. Progress, innovation, and change don’t happen unless there is an underlying ethic of reflection, preparedness, agility, and risk taking. These are traits that often seem to be in short supply among many groups of people, including those of us in the “first world”. Resilience as aptly described by Cameron pertains to the development of capability “to anticipate, avoid, accommodate, and recover from shocks”. Such thinking is in line with business continuity planning, a most useful and proven approach to executing strategic resilience. Business continuity planning is a systemic process designed to minimize threats, recover from disruptions, and maintain operations with just the right balance of sustainability and adaptability to allow for ongoing functionality. Covid-19 lays bare societies’ agility and viability vulnerabilities worldwide. A more premeditated methodology built around strategic resilience will better prepare us for the dangers and disorders yet to come.

“The main part of preparedness to face these events is that we need as human beings to realize that we’re all in this together, that what affects one person anywhere affects everyone everywhere, that we are therefore inevitably part of a species, and we need to think in that way rather than about divisions of race and ethnicity, economic status, and all the rest of it.”  Frank M. Snowden, a professor emeritus of history and the history of medicine at Yale University. Professor Snowden articulates what is the greatest challenge for us to customize a post-pandemic world. It is not just waging a fight against invading pathogens. It is not immediately halting all ecological ruination. It is not instantly remediating the effects of world poverty and injustice. It is finding a way to work together, to find common ground, to forge partnerships across diverse and opposing ideologies and world views that take us collectively to a place of harmony with nature and universal social well being.

Political divisions will always be with us—and they should be. As much as Washington and Adams warned the young American nation about the drawbacks and pitfalls of partisanship our early countrymen quickly resorted to establishing institutions whereby like-minded people sharing political positions and philosophies could coalesce and compete. Bias and partiality drives politics in every nation in one form or another and varying levels of cooperation and animosity facilitate or diminish government action and decision making in each of these places. Rhetorical conflict can result in progress or not. In the best of situations leadership quality and citizen enlightenment merge to discover solutions that elevate conditions for the greatest number of people. It is not the eradication of disagreement that is needed, it is the crafting of positive options from the scrum of our differences that is called for more than ever in the post-Covid world.

“With all the riots and BS going on, I’m starting to miss the days of the #chinesevirus at least that was laughable nonsense. Where did all that go?” Conservative contributor to Twitter from New Mexico. 

“I’m never wearing a mask…We ruined the economy for nothing.” Conservative contributor to Twitter from Washington, DC.

“Let’s all be honest. Democrat Governors all over the Country let criminals out of prison so they could show up for the riots. The plandemic was the lie they told. These riots were planned right down to the bricks.” Conservative contributor to Twitter from California.

The above quotes were taken from my Twitter feed on June 3, 2020. For the past week the nationwide protests have been occurring following the videotaped murder of an African American man by a white Minneapolis police officer. I could of course add many many more quotes of this type, but I think these make my point. There is a significant segment of America who dismiss and don’t accept the urgency of attacking a viral pandemic raging through their country. Can you imagine these folks rallying to combat climate change?! Whereas the marketplace of competing ideas yields the best solutions, as I’ve noted above, there does come a point where paralysis can set in due to unbridgeable chasms of opinion. We may very well be a this point.

I purposely follow a lot of conservative contributors on Twitter to help give me a sense of what this part of the population is thinking. Granted, Twitter seems to be a platform where MANY extreme views from the right and the left make their instantaneous presence, and despite the velocity of these well caffeinated and provocative conjectures, it may not be any more of an accurate reflection of mainstream viewpoints than any other source. But it is informative nevertheless, to read the thoughts of those who I do not encounter on a daily basis in real life. My grand takeaway is becoming that America is not only profoundly polarized politically, but now appears to be such a large and unwieldy country that to think of coalescing around a national purpose of any sort these days looks to be pathetically unrealistic. It makes thinking we can tackle threats that require national unity, rational problem solving, and concerted effort fanciful. And to be fair, the left can be soundly obnoxious themselves, particularly on the extreme end of the wing. Together our partisan palsy puts all of us at greater risk of mishandling future natural epidemics at a time of accelerated globalized change. This is not smart people.

The fundamental test therefore lies in comprehending, on a near universal scale, the common ground on which we all stand. Doing so involves a mind-shift toward seeing the world through everyone’s similarities, shared purpose, and sense of oneness. Of course there will be differences of opinion and perspective. But where is it written that any nation need cleave itself over these contrasts and disagreements? We should make clear to ourselves that collectively we can achieve greater liberty and prosperity for everyone by adhering to principles of equality in justice, brotherhood, and multicultural acceptance. I’ll drag out a banal, but incisive phrase—there is more that unites us than divides us. Or perhaps, we can simply listen to Desmond Tutu, “My humanity is bound up in yours, for we can only be human together.”

Finding common ground with those with whom we have disagreement does not start with sending links to articles highlighting one’s point of view, or by pointing out “incontrovertible” data, or by quoting experts in science, economics, education, and so forth. It starts with identifying shared values. We all live in communities we want to be prosperous and safe. We all want the best for our kids. We all want the freedom to live life as we choose. We all want to live long comfortable and flourishing lives. At our roots, we are moral, emotional, social, and intuitive, not rational. Reaching each other over how we feel about issues will forge alliances more than trying to get ourselves to think alike. Debate at a cognitive level can often be fruitless outside of a university-like setting. We think what we want to think. But appealing to our widespread sentiments of what feels right provides greater hope we can build coalitions.

Working within the framework of one’s civilization can reveal beneficial touch points in trying to find common humanity. Jonathan Haidt, a social psychologist in Virginia recognizes care, fairness, liberty, loyalty, authority, and sanctity as supporting morality, which I’ll define as a culture’s sense of right and wrong. Exploring these areas with the goal of intentionally establishing areas of agreement among disparate people allows us to seek agreements and reach accord. Understanding the moral interests and human nature of others is the place to reach them. Developing trust makes it easier to agree on win/win approaches. When we figure out an improved way of collaboratively merging reason and intuition we will have a greater chance of productively connecting to face incoming environmental and social challenges that we will surely face together in the future, whether we are ready for them or not.

Covid-19 should be seen more as a forewarning than as a one-off unexpected cataclysm. We are being alerted to not only future pandemics, but to a range of calamities that can result from the lack of congruence between humans and nature, including the efficacy of how science and governments respond to these threats. Will we snap back to a normal goaded by pent-up demand as Pilita Clark in the Financial Times describes as spending, “…money we don’t have, on things we don’t need, to create impressions that don’t last, on people we don’t care about?” or will we be guided by a desire for preventative science-based planning and funding that is cooperatively engaged across disparate agencies, departments, businesses, and even nations? Resisting the fratricidal tendency many people have to express hate, xenophobia, and scapegoating when faced with fear, as these forthcoming scourges will likely engender, could be our biggest obstacle to the necessary teamwork such times will call for. If so, this will be enormously difficult.

All times are a stress test of one sort or another each with their own zeitgeist of idiosyncratic incitements that make or break the people of their age. The grand conflict of our epoch is integrally enmeshed in the quality of the relationship between the earth’s dominant life form and their planet. We have had a shot fired over our bow. The time for awareness and resolve is on. How we engage this struggle will determine the kind of world we bestow upon or deprive from future generations. Whatever turns out to be our legacy we cannot say we weren’t warned.

The Virtue of Nationalism by Yoram Hazony

Basic Books, New York, 2018

The term Nationalism, as a descriptor of political philosophy, cultural identity, and governance methodology has been undergoing a reexamination in recent years. This evaluation is resulting in political lines being starkly drawn around how civil and partisan engagement is to be exercised among the citizens of 21st century sovereign states. The significant emergence of populist right-wing movements in a number of western countries during the 2010s is forcing us to review the advantages and disadvantages wrought upon societies and economies concerning the manner in which globalization’s interactions and integrations have been playing out over the past thirty or forty years. By investigating the way in which global exchange practices are developing in this increasingly hyper-connected world we can better determine whether nationalism, a profoundly universal social innovation, which emerged from the Enlightenment three centuries ago, continues to be a beneficial and relevant social organizing principle going forward.

Recent reading and podcast listening of mine in the areas of politics, economics, and philosophy has brought to my attention the latest work from Yoram Hazony, an Israeli political philosopher, entitled The Virtue of Nationalism. The impression initially given to me from the above sources is that this work is popular among conservative intellectuals as a serious promotion of nationalism’s positive effects and praiseworthy underpinnings going well beyond mere political theater and hyperbole to instead a revealing and scholarly justification of the concept’s current embrace among many on the political right.

Nationalism used to have a positive connotation with me, but since the Trump phenomenon its reputation now seems personally tarnished by its associations with xenophobia, jingoism, racism, and extremism. All told, this seemed like a good time to try understanding my political opposition more by peering into an erudite attempt to explain nationalism’s measure, worth, and modern relevance.

I went into this reading with a view of nationalism shaped largely by two influences, one my study of conventional American history, which by and large speaks of American nationalism as a blessed and hard fought gift to the world, created out of righteous revolution and gallantly sustained throughout numerous external threats and invasions. Secondly, beyond the American experience, I’ve observed nationalism as the glue that has held the world’s people together in an appropriate order of self-governing societies bound by common histories, languages, cultural traits, and religions. My key observations are that nationalism encourages pride, patriotism, and a rallying of collective spirit, leaving each citizen feeling as if they belong to something grand and historic. The national state model allows people to join in a synergistic manner to establish and protect their independent means of continuing prosperity and cultural longevity while safeguarding themselves against external threats. If one nation can’t defend its interests alone, then it joins in alliances with others whom they share concerns. I have always thought this arrangement was a marked improvement over the primitive feudalism of previous eras with its near constant bloodshed and tyrannical rule. Overall, nationalism has felt natural and fitting — until this time.

Nationalism has become a political hot potato and as with many topics of late with which there should not be widespread disagreement, such as environmental protection, universal access to healthcare, and shared prosperity, nationalism is now the cause célèbre, pitting those on the right, who seek a return to an allegedly diminished sovereignty, with liberals who view cooperative global connectivity among peoples as inevitable and positive.

For many, nationalism has revealed a dark side. Areas of contention include claims that a form of neo-nationalism in the west has arisen of late characterized by regressive and revisionist thinking; claims of racial superiority; intolerance of diversity; an embrace of outmoded social behaviors; denial or rejection of cultural and historical changes now underway; less respect for the rights of all citizens; a willingness to increase conflict with other countries such as allies; and less readiness to initiate and establish international alliances. In short, a debate now exists about whether or not nationalism contributes to universal welfare, peace, and prosperity around the planet or if it is instead an outdated relic of a more pugnacious and bellicose past.

Also, nationalism now has a novel and disturbing face to it. Donald Trump, Brexit supporters, eastern European strongmen, white supremacists, and angry old white men (and some women) many of whom possess only a basic level of formal education. It’s reasonable to ask, can there be anything redeemable of an idea endorsed enthusiastically by this lot?

To be fair, there have undoubtedly been tensions leading to a reassessment of how international relations are deployed and of globalization’s value more broadly. Growing numbers of Americans and Europeans see unsustainable and uncontrollable levels of immigration occurring; trade agreements that seem to favor cheap labor abroad at the expense of domestic workers; technological and business shifts overly favoring the highly educated; greater corporate empowerment leading to increased wealth inequality; terrorism targeted at the wealthy nations; and a sense that multi-state federations and alliances, such as the European Union, United Nations, and NATO, are weakening nations’ ability to determine their own policy initiatives and address adequately their own unique national interests.

Together these issues have called into question our rush to tightly connect the world technologically, economically, politically, and culturally. Many are welcoming this set of challenges as an excuse to reaffirm the benefits of nationalism and caution against any alternatives away from it.

Yoram Hazony constructs a thoughtful, well researched, ardent, and academic defense of nationalism, placing the practice in a long-term historical context. For critics of  nationalism as it has become to be understood today, in particular as a reactionary political movement, it is worth reading this sober and reasoned rationale advocating a means of governing and ordering of societies that is still quite recent in the annals of history. One element of credibility I expected from Hazony was his perspective on the topic as an Israeli citizen and self-admitted Zionist. The Hebrew nation was intentionally forged from centuries of enmity, bigotry, conflict, and genocide, providing Hazony and perhaps all Israelis, with a profound reverence for a system codifying independence, self-reliance, and empowerment for the Jewish people. He did indeed deliver his thesis from this vantage point, giving his claims added authenticity, if not veracity.

A principal dichotomy Hazony relies on to gird his central argument is the fundamental choice countries must make between having governments rooted in self-determined independent sovereignty or authoritative and centrally planned multi-state aggregations. The question is which system is worthy of development that best advances freedom, prosperity, peace, and moral integrity. Is it a belief countries should be free to pursue their interests, further their cultural traditions, and navigate their way through a world brimming with threats and opportunities? Or is it one ingrained with the notion global integration is a requirement for reducing racism and belligerence, while promoting tolerance, fellowship, and fairness? In other words, Hazony views the essential preference as one between nationalism and imperialism.

Hazony reaches into history to provide guidance and justification for the crucial ruling decision nations must make today. Empire has a long track record in the western world stretching back to Assyria, Persia, Babylonia, and Egypt. It is due to the latter empire with its authoritarian brutality and forced devotion to polytheism and pharaonic command, which gave rise to the reactive origins of nationalism found in the Old Testament. The Bible became the first document to present a political order alternative to imperialism as well as the tradition preceding it, tribalism. Of note, Mosaic law prohibited Israelites from launching incursions into nearby kingdoms and stipulated internal governing standards, which together formed the early parameters of the national state.

Later significant expression of nationalism occurred during the Protestant Reformation of the 16th century. Rejection of the imperialistic Roman Church, following the invention of the printing press, occurred in England, Scotland, the Netherlands, France, and Sweden, leading eventually to the Thirty Years’ War, which broke the Roman church’s hold over much of Europe, resulting in the formation of national states throughout the continent. A common attribute of these nations was a self-proclaimed right of self-determination and adoption of moral requirements determining the legitimacy of governments, often codified in constitutions. This continued to serve as the building model of most nations reaching into the 20th century.

Nationalism today has been altered substantially by two penetrating developments—the philosophical emergence of what Hazony calls the “liberal construction of the West” and Germany’s 20th century attempts to forcefully apply nationalism as a springboard for empire building. In the first case, western political thought has been dominated since John Locke (1689) by a sanctified belief in individual rights and consent. By superseding loyalty and kinship to cultural, religious, and tribal origins with individual freedom and equality the nation state loses its moral fiber and tradition-bound purpose. In addition, the rationale for national boundaries is diluted or seen as unnecessary in a liberal world where universal principles that improve the lives of all humankind can be put into practice the world over. Hazony complains that defense of old-styled nationalism is not even given the time of day among the multiparty educated elites who are all in with the Lockean paradigm.

Germany saw the nations of England, France, Spain, and Portugal forming colonial empires around the world and thought they should have one too. The difference with the Germans was in their belief that instead of colonizing far-flung parts of the world they could establish their empire in Europe. Hence, World Wars I and II. Following the atrocities of Nazi Germany, a conclusion widely accepted was to believe nationalism could be inherently extreme and the cause of such horrendous crimes. By taking away their status of nationhood peace and prosperity would instead reign over Europe.

The result of these traumas is that the true national state, as Hazony sees it, has given way to a neo-imperialism most glaringly expressed in the European Union, United Nations, and Pax Americana. The faith buttressing these entities assumes the western world has identified liberalism, by which is included the rule of law, market economies, and individual rights as the true all-encompassing way to achieve peace and prosperity. He contends this comes at the expense of a conviction in nationalism based on self-determination and moral allegiance principles as the correct and proper way to govern. As is obvious to him, this doctrine can best be achieved via international alliances and other state integration schemes, which smack of imperialism and a drift away from sovereignty. The current wave of nationalism in Europe. Brazil, the U.S. and elsewhere is a rejection of the liberal construction of the West and the neocolonialism it implies.

Mr. Hazony attempts a reasoned case for his preference of nationalism over the other major political order alternatives, those being clans/tribes and imperialism. He basis his claim not on mere emotional devotion or an infatuation with institutional tradition alone, but through a carefully constructed logic centered on the ultimate eminence of people’s mutual loyalty to one another. Beginning with an endorsement of the idea that political order needs to precede philosophies of government he goes on to recognize politics as a means of persuasion uniting like interests of a community toward achieving common goals. Members of any collective join for one of three reasons: they are coerced, paid off, or see the aims of the group as sharing in the same values as their own individual aspirations. This latter motive, the most influential of the three, leads to an all powerful mutual loyalty, which is foundational to the formation of families, clans, tribes, successful institutions, and nations themselves.

The precious bond of mutual loyalty, progressively arising as it does from families and clans to tribes and nations, outweighs in importance personal gain, one’s survival instinct, and even the ability to live totally free and independent, according to Hazony. Any philosophy of government must take into account this fundamental truth — group cohesion resulting from reciprocal fidelity creates the highest quality and sustainable associations and institutions. To diminish or to be blind to this tenet is to follow a path toward enabling organizations with weak attachments and a fragile ability to meet threats, to benefit from opportunities, or to satisfy the individual needs of constituents. He accuses the current liberal construction of the West as falling into this trap by relying solely on individual consent and freedom as the keystone of government.

Hazony offers a useful analogy to make his point, by which he compares the two institutions of business and family. In business, employees and customers engage with the organization to greater and lesser degrees depending primarily on an expectation of what benefits are to be derived which will enhance one’s lifestyle and material well being. We could say it is a consensual relationship. The family, on the other hand, is comprised of members to whom one is devoted well beyond what comforts they provide. Indeed, family members may be quite difficult, nevertheless parents largely accept the obligation to pass on cultural inheritances to their children, which they had received from their parents, grandparents, and ancestors. The commitment to one another within families is a much stronger bond than is found elsewhere, particularly more so than within commercial relations. The claim is therefore made that a true lasting connection to one another in a nation is much closer to family than to business.

Nationalism is the sweet spot between the rule of clans and tribes, which leads to near constant warfare and anarchy, and empire with its inevitability of subjugation. It is only in the national state where citizens of common heritage, language, religion, and history join to form and give allegiance to a political order that in turn provides national freedom to all. Hazony claims a collective freedom must precede individual freedom and to think any individual can be free when their family or fellow citizens are not is folly. National freedom as expressed in free institutions and domestic power centers strengthens domestic peace and common well-being. Moreover, national freedom is founded on a empirical belief that the truths which hold a people together must result from a plurality of viewpoints over time rather than from a single universal precept delivered on high.

Hazony concludes his book by trying to address one persistent criticism of nationalism — the charge it promotes intolerance and hatred. The counter argument boils down basically to: ‘Well, imperialist movements do so too.’ Finally, much time is spent defending Israel’s nationalism, which frankly to me appears as an open and shut case given the history Jews have faced, despite their inability thus far to temper or mitigate the aggressiveness imposed by them onto their neighbors.

In general, I have to give Hazony credit for laying out a solid case for the continuance of nationalism. I agree with much of his rationale. Primarily, his placement of nationalism between tribalism and imperialism and his critique of these extremes is credible. A political order whereby individuals are able to benefit from established cultural teachings, uphold the future of their civilization, and further an idiosyncratic but legitimate expression of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness is clearly acceptable. I embrace an approval of intercultural diversity, tolerance of differences among peoples, and a context requiring negotiation among disparate parties. A world of national states sets the stage for such interaction. He makes an obvious case that tribalism and imperialism impede such a scrum in favor of a more minimized and overly reductionist outlook favoring restricted thinking of how communal interplay should occur.

It’s also hard to quarrel with the value of mutual loyalty among like people, a fundamental dogma of his pro-nationalism argument. The bond folk experience from common backgrounds, values, and interests is profound and motivating. The sense of belonging is integral to personal mental and therefore collective health. Anyone who feels pride in their heritage, which is most individuals, knows how significant fealty and homage to one’s people is. Such fidelity to a group’s ancestors and the culture they imparted over generations should be honored, refined, and respected. However, it is on this overarching topic of mutual loyalty where I begin to question Hazony’s premise.

He makes clear that there are limits to mutual loyalty. In Hazony’s nationalistic world citizens begin forming the bonds of loyalty first to their families and from there to their local communities and to country. Historically, loyalty followed a path from family to clan to tribe and over time to nation. But that is as far as collaborative devotion can apparently reach. His claim is that without the ties of tradition loyalty toward others dissolves. What we are left with at best is a grasping of like interests from which to form political alliances with those outside of our cultural and national sphere. The default position is that members of a nation exclusively contain a limited and unique set of objectives necessary to sustain their people which are not shared with foreigners. And because there is not a universal commonly accepted principle that applies to everyone around the planet, or so he says, there is a natural constraint as to how far mutual loyalty can go. I ask myself, are the world’s inhabitants really that separate and different from each another?

Technology and a global economy join people in interdependent ways. We rely on each other for our common welfare and bounty in ways that is increasingly difficult to do at just a national level alone. International trade and cultural exchanges benefit a nation beyond what domestic practices, policies, and programs alone can do in the modern era. Not only that, but global climate change places everyone in the same existential boat. Our very survival no matter where we live is largely subservient to how global decision makers react to the scientific data beckoning us to act in a coordinated manner. Do we not jointly participate in a world marked more by what unites us than what divides us? Is not our common need to live fruitful lives in the here and now, while fashioning a plentiful future for our children, the elusive universal principle Hazony claims does not exist?

Hazony seems to have a limited view regarding the foundational thinking pertaining to political order, which emerged from the 18th century’s age of reason known as the Enlightenment. He restricts it to Locke’s reasoned claim of “perfect freedom” and “perfect equality” or in short, individual freedom, as the one grand unifying principle driving the theory of government that now dominates the West. However, I suggest expanding the notion of what qualifies as ordering principles derived from the Enlightenment beyond just individual freedom, as noteworthy as it is. Other conditions conventionally thought of as forming the basis of the good life inspire contemporary political action as well. Steven Pinker highlighted such requirements in his book Enlightenment Now (2018). In addition to freedom and happiness he identifies health and longevity; sustenance and abundance; peace and safety; literacy and knowledge; and environmental quality as critical outcomes all people should experience. Surely, attempts to ensure individual freedom and results such as those noted by Pinker together serve as a more complete unifying principle agreeable to all nations supporting a theory of government. Perhaps Martin Luther King put it best: “We are tied together in the single garment of destiny, caught in an inescapable network of mutuality. And whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly.”

To be clear, the above criticism is not a rationale for empire building. Hazony lays out quite well the pitfalls of a single multinational governmental structure. I agree the loss of national sovereignty can lead to a weakening of culture and a reduction of local decision making, both of which fly in the face of self-determination.

Be that as it may, Hazony singles out the European Union as a particularly flawed imperialistic gamble personifying the way nations should not be going. As is obvious, the EU is modeled on federalism and is populated largely with nations and citizens who want to be a part of it, especially now that the UK is gone. Advantages of the union include protection of basic political, social, and economic rights through implementation of a single market with no cross-border transaction fees; high uniform standards of food safety, consumer and employment rights, and environmental regulations; added global relations clout coming from a unified voice instead of 27 smaller voices; enhanced minority citizen rights; and more. Above all, the greatest benefit to date is the degree of relative peace throughout the European continent. After the bellicose debacles of the twentieth century this is no small achievement. I find it difficult to share Hazony’s glum assessment of the EU’s impact on governance and on the lives of European citizens.

Lest one think Yoram Hazony is simply a dyed-in-the-wool conservative, I would like to point out a fundamental point of his that popular liberalism can take comfort in. He goes to some lengths criticizing individual consent or freedom as inadequate on its own for basing a political theory. Indeed, this is the crux of his problem with the historic liberal construction of the West. Rather, he expounds on the virtues of mutual loyalty as the crucial missing component of current western political thought. What Hazony then actually does is to promote collectivism, community, and public cooperation as paramount while debasing an over-reliance on individualism. This plays right into the popular liberalism of American Democrats and European Social Democrats and says to popular conservatism in the West that its ideology is left wanting.

In summary, Yoram Hazony has prepared a sagacious defense of nationalism that I recommend to anyone drawn to a consideration of political theory, governing principles, and what is motivating the political right these days. Yet, I’m still left with the feeling that to promote nationalism without explicitly condemning its obvious shortcomings in the areas of racism and intolerance, not to mention the impracticality of isolation in a commercially globalized world, is leaving me somewhat unconvinced of Hazony’s brand of nationalism’s purity. Also, I don’t get that if in an empire one member’s national views are disregarded by the empire’s leaders it is despotism, but within the nation state if a minority’s views are ignored by a nation’s leaders it is an accepted price to be paid for the larger good of nationalism, then I see an inconsistency.

But even with these foibles I cannot support a removal of nationalism in favor of a one-world government. Nationalism is a system that may need reform, but not revolution. And thanks to Hazony, I can now better separate nationalism’s true value from the lunatic rhetoric delivered by the cast of nationalistic characters on today’s political stage.

I haven’t written much over the past three months. Some, but not as much as I expected to given I had a three-month period with precious few things needing productive attention and which were largely months that were mine to use as I chose. I can’t point to my lack of output to a busy schedule, or identify others as making too many demands of me, or even claim I was the victim of a damnable unexpected obstruction life sometimes throws across our paths without warning. Instead, I think I’ll blame it on Spain. After all, this is where those three months were spent.

Spain, or to be more specific, Andalusia, the autonomous southern region of the country where this time was almost exclusively passed, is a total distraction for an introverted, goal-oriented, New England-bred old man with an imagination deficit. I’m used to getting things done concretely in an environment where cultural and meteorological conditions are conducive to setting aside scheduled time dedicated to accomplishing large and small tasks every day. Especially during winter, with its sharp and biting edges, urging us poor souls to find warm shelter where we’re forced to occupy our time with meaningful indoor pursuits that keep us grounded and somewhat sane.

But winter in Andalusia generates no such exigency. Nearly every day exhibits traits seemingly designed to prevent an over-indulgence of objective-achieving activities. Plans to work on something can be easily thwarted. One’s normal laser-like focus can become refracted illuminating options for your day you didn’t earlier consider. Days can slip through your fingers with velvety abandon. Another night makes its presence and you are again surprised how smoothly the retreating day slid by like a passing skater effortlessly flowing down the paseo maritimo.

This part of Spain sends a message that living matters and we should be here on this earth to enjoy it. Rather quickly upon settling into these surroundings the senses begin influencing the brain to divert dusty patterned and sequestered thoughts and feelings outwardly toward possibilities only revealed by an abundance of sunshine filled skies and the big blue sea. The charm of Spanish culture ushers American sensibilities to a seat at any one of many cafes or bars where attentive and unhurried service awaits. Sipping this existence slowly can relax jumpy minds, reverse impatience, and if allowed, excite. Andalusia has a distinctive style shaped from a rich and turbulent history to share with those who go there willing to look, listen, and learn. It is a place confoundingly compelling and engaging and enticing. And that is why I haven’t written much in the past three months.

Arriving in Spain at the beginning of December for a pre-planned stay that involved living in a rented casa along the Mediterranean’s Costa del Sol for as long as the European Union visa laws allowed (three months) meant we were here for a relatively long haul. On the docket was a desire to visit other parts of Andalusia in addition to venturing out of Spain briefly. What eventually transpired was a two-week trip to southern Germany and Austria in late January. Other than this out-of-country trip, our time was encircled in Andalusia, including greater Malaga and the cities of Granada, Sevilla, Cordaba, and Cadiz. Also of note, this was not our first trip to Spain or to Andalusia. We rented a casa in the same locale for two months during the winter of 2015. So, we had a pretty good idea of what we were likely to face. Nevertheless, this fresh encounter with Spain expanded my appreciation of its more salient and positive traits.

High on my list of observed positive Spanish attributes, and one counter-intuitive to my own manner of being, is the Andaluz passion for life. The people strike me as very social and outgoing, especially among each other. Much time is devoted to long visits and energetic conversations, particularly over food and drink. Meals can go on for hours consuming entire afternoons or stretching late into the night. Family and community are revered. Time is gratefully committed to growing relationships. As has been observed by others assessing the Spanish psyche, the Spanish don’t live to work, they work to live.

This is not to say Spain is an unproductive country. On the contrary, it appears to function quite well. Municipal and private services abound. One observes things getting done, although patience is sometimes necessary. The manaña syndrome, or tendency to get around to task completion when one is good and ready, does make a not infrequent presence, or so I’m told. Urgency may not match northern European or American levels, but by adjusting to the Iberian pace quality of life need not suffer a decline, rather it can possibly be improved.

Another appealing feature is the weather. My, but the sun shines a lot there. Costa del sol is an apt description. Real estate agents, backed up by the country’s national meteorological agency, claim there are 320 days of sunshine per year. A harsh winter day is a cool, cloudy day with some rain and temperatures in the mid-fifties Fahrenheit. Coming from New Hampshire, this is a joy to take. Most days over the three months in Andalusia were sunny and in the sixties. Perfect winter weather!

Over recent years, I’ve noticed that I really like sunny days. Sunshine lifts my spirits, improves how I feel, and assists me in having a more positive outlook on life. These consequences appear to be having a greater impact as I age. It’s said sunshine boosts the brain’s delivery of the hormone serotonin, resulting in enhanced mood, calmness, and focus. Given my need for help in all of these areas I was very grateful for the daily solar exposure.

My daily walks were a pleasure. Energetic romps through the streets of town and especially along the paseo which followed the shoreline of the Mediterranean gave me not only exercise and time to think, but contact with the aforementioned sun. I often explored the streets where tourists did not venture, but instead where generations of local residents made their homes. Sure, they sniffed me out as someone not from there, but I was never made to feel uncomfortable. Whenever I travel I love wandering and observing people and places different from own experience. I am not so naive to know this is impracticable and unsafe to do in many locations around the world, but so far my excursions in many far flung spots has been rewarding.

To imply my stay in Spain was all comfort and leisure free of any mental exertion, leading to my dearth of writing is not completely accurate. There was another reason. I seriously tried to take my understanding of the Spanish language to the next level. This was really hard and pushed my brain to what felt at times like its limit.

Let me back up to make a disclosure. The learning of another language has been an unfulfilled lifelong desire. I studied my mother’s native tongue, German, for all four years of high school and one year of college. But as most of us know, this encounter rarely produces a proficient speaker, listener, reader, and writer of another language. Life went on and I never was able to comprehend and express myself in German beyond a rudimentary degree. Then, after our 2015 stay in Spain, I developed an enthusiasm for their language. Given its widespread use across the western world, including its growing presence in the US, I thought I could and should handle this one. I still think someday I will.

Learning a new language in one’s sixties is considered tough to pull off. I recently heard a linguist contend the older one gets the more difficult it is to learn a new language. Agreed. He went on to disclose, perhaps in an attempt to make people like me feel better, it was only necessary to learn about 500 keywords to become functional in a language. However, he didn’t say which 500 they were. Nevertheless, I persisted. And I made progress I’m happy to report.

As a base from which to build more Spanish language aptitude I had a year and a half of occasional lessons with a teacher in Mexico conducted via Skype over 2017 and 2018. This helpful introduction in combination with some more recent online grammar work, or should I say dabbling, provided me with a little background from which to extend my learning.

The approach I began with during this three-month language intensive largely consisted of trying to master those words and phrases most needed to conduct business in stores, restaurants, and other commercial contexts. From there I ventured into conversational attempts with locals. I relied heavily on two aids in tandem to accomplish this. One, the Google Translate app on my phone and two, my memory. I can’t applaud Google Translate enough. I would anticipate what I wanted to say prior to an engagement, look it up on the app, and then try to memorize as much of the text as possible. This exercised my visual memory in ways I haven’t done in years. Over time, this approach increased my learned vocabulary and communicative functionality immensely, not to mention giving my memory a well deserved workout. Before long I had a serviceable list of words and phrases I could speak in a natural manner without relying as much on the app. This was satisfying, indeed.

My most demanding situations were social ones, during which I tried conversing with native speakers who knew little to no English. Granted, these discussions didn’t get into great depth, but I found that when pressed I could conjure a large enough number of words to make myself mostly, or ahhh, should I say somewhat understood. To be honest, these sessions were mentally exhausting. Nevertheless, it was exciting to see myself begin to learn a new skill. As we age we typically rely on engaging in activities with which we already have some familiarity. It’s part of our chosen need to remain in our comfort zones. Trying to expand my ability to speak Spanish was a deliberate attempt to step out of that zone.

Of course, every glass is at least half empty, right? Being more a visual rather than an auditory learner in general I anticipated difficulty in comprehending the Spanish spoken word. Was I ever right. I left Spain knowing I never made as much progress in listening to people speak and understanding what was said as I wanted to. If the language is in print, it is much easier for me to process. Coming at me as verbal speech and I’m often lost. The one shred of progress I can claim in this auditory area is that spoken Spanish doesn’t sound as rapid fire as it used to. For most of my life I always thought Spanish speakers talked really fast. Now that isn’t necessarily the case. The speech now strikes me as slower, but unfortunately so is my ability to understand it sonically.

So, I have left Spain physically behind for now, but have taken a piece of it with me. I will continue to practice the language with the hope of one day being able to say and demonstrate that I can speak, read, write, and LISTEN to Spanish fluently. Also the pace of life revealed to me in Spain is one I hope to incorporate into my retired life. If not now, when as they say? And though I can’t take the Spanish sun with me wherever I go I can always carry the memory picture. I look forward to returning.

And now no more excuses. Back to writing!

Short story from late 2019 

I have seen you closely. I have seen you from afar. Your story reverberates in a continuous loop that saddens, warms, and captivates me. I can’t and won’t turn away from you. Ever. 

You clearly remember the whoop of excitement ringing out from your colleagues working closely by you in the kiln test pit the group was carefully revealing. One group member, Madeline, called to you by name urging you to see the pottery sherd they had just discovered. It was a reddish jagged ceramic fragment measuring about 12 cm by 7 cm and clearly part of a larger work given its image of a single eye with its deep red swoosh of an eyebrow flowing down the left side of a partially revealed nose bridge. At that moment you were more thrilled to hear her wanting you to join in her excitement than by the discovery of the actual artifact itself. Being invited into someone else’s joy was still a novel experience. You let the pleasure radiate for a moment before congratulating Madeline and the others on their find.  

As one of six first-year students from UCLA’s graduate institute of archeology, who were all selected to participate that summer with Spanish archeological officials to assist in the excavation of a newly discovered Roman site on a hill overlooking the southeastern Andalusian coast, you were living the dream. This is what you worked and studied for, an opportunity to systematically excavate with a team of like-minded enthusiasts while being supervised and taught by masters in the field. Your emotions ranged from pride to profound satisfaction as you emerged from the long slumber of stultifying childhood into assuredness and professionalism.  

You’ve reflected on that moment in the kiln test pit often. It has attained a symbolic status rooting you to a brief but significant apex in your development as a person. Sometimes you still carry regret for what might have been, but maybe not as often as you used to. Self-reflection was never something that came to you easily. Why should it? Your parents never seemed to encourage or even practice anything approaching rumination. But feeling badly for yourself. Now that always came more easily. It’s at these times you recall the meticulous unearthing of the stone column centered within the round brick kiln dating from the second to third century with people who felt like friends and remember what happiness was like.    

Although being a child didn’t bring for you many moments of exhilaration there were times of contentment. These moments stemmed largely from you not minding to be alone. You actually preferred solitude most of the time. Your interests were your best friends. They consisted of situations and characters involving meeting challenges head on, overcoming hardships, clever problem solving, gutsy self-reliance, and codes of honor. In short, gallantry. However, when you read stories and watched movies replete with such incidents, they weren’t enough to fully satisfy your attraction to these themes. In your search for more information on these topics what developed was a pursuit of understanding people from far off places and times, stepping stones really which led eventually to your love of archeology.  

Archeology represented for you opportunities to interact and commune with tangible links to ages in which you imagined such valiant deeds most often occurring. Your fascination began with weaponry, armor, and all things militaristic, but in time involved an appreciation of the primitive and mundane technologies, such as the development of pottery, fabrics, tools, and other material culture. You would envision simple people carving and shaping an existence out of the world as they found it. Individuals and communities battling with challenges presented by nature and fellow humans, while they also fashioned art and religion. This enchanted you. It still does. 

You spent time alone in the woods and fields around your home practicing archeology as a boy. Despite knowing western New Hampshire had been occupied by peoples for thousands of years it wasn’t as if you could easily find human skeletal remains, Native American artifacts, or musket balls from early English settlers. You sure tried hard to do so, though. Rather, you learned about the historic record told by the woods themselves, especially of the many topographic mounds and cavities that told of tree blow down events from long ago, the intent of the builders behind the peculiarities of stonewall constructions, and what prompted placement of colonial era homes as evidenced by long abandoned cellar holes. You felt peace and purpose during those outdoor explorations and adventures. 

As inconsistent as this may sound, another observation about your past is that you did care about what others thought of you. You cared very much, especially from members of your peer group.  There were several, although few, other boys in school who shared at least part of your interest in things historic and archeological. Together you shared stories, played games, searched for artifacts, and watched movies. There was that Saturday when you and Joey made cavemen dioramas in his basement and the time Thomas’s mother took three of you to visit America’s Stonehenge in Salem. These are still good memories. But for the most part you were seen as aloof and well, weird. You realized quickly how feeble your attempts to interact with regular kids often led to embarrassment and self-doubt. It became easier for you to retreat into your own safe self-devised frameworks. 

Of the little more than 500 students in attendance at your high school, coming as they did from your downcast hometown, a former cotton and woolen textile mill town having seen better days, there was hardly anyone you really knew or cared to know. The feeling seemed to be fully reciprocated. Not many of them wanted to know you either, except for you to serve as a ready recipient of teasing, bullying, and general harassment. There was a rock hound club that met after school on Tuesdays, which came close to an interesting school activity. However, the teacher who ran the club was young and although he had minored in geology, he wasn’t terribly inspiring. The numbers of student members attending continued to drop. It’s fair to say, your time in that school was often a silent and lonely hell. 

You were smart, though. Grades throughout high school were very good, such that it wasn’t a stretch for you to get accepted into the University of New Hampshire to study anthropology, which you planned to use as a launch pad into your eventual field of archeology. Your time at UNH was certainly a life improvement. It got you out of your hometown and meeting other people. There were a few you could actually call friends. Not being into the college party scene disadvantaged you socially, however. There was a lot of time spent in your room and at the library. Overall, you were more accepted in college, enjoyed your studies, and continued meeting with success academically. You also found yourself wanting to stay in Durham more than returning to your parent’s home when school breaks came.  

Then during your senior year came the big break! Acceptance to the University of California Los Angeles’s graduate institute of archeology with a generous financial aid package. You felt elation at the prospect of living so far from home studying a topic that always spellbound you and at a university that seemed alluring and exotic. The Westwood section of Los Angeles was trendy, bustling, and engaging with a warm winter and a cosmopolitan atmosphere. You dove into your classes and other program offerings at the institute. You enjoyed the city’s diversions. And what started as an intent focus on the historic story behind buried artifacts quickly turned into an appreciation and enthusiasm for disseminating this rich body of knowledge to localities and communities hungry for specific information about their pasts. You thrived on opportunities to share the work being done on conservation and field projects with community groups, museum guests, and public school students. The more subject matter you absorbed the more you wanted to share it with others. Occasionally, a thought would actually cross your mind that you might enjoy becoming a teacher in addition to an archeological research expert and scholar. 

Given the related pursuits of your college peers you made friends and acquaintances surprisingly easy. These relationships began simply enough due to assigned collaborations on class projects, but in time several of these interactions developed into true friendships — some of them the most genuine and satisfying of your life. Over the course of your first months in LA, it was as if a great weight of insecurity and dearth of confidence had been lifted. Your intellectual self was merging with a social identity, creating in you an certitude and conviction never before realized. Optimism started to make appearances into the back streets and hideaways of your days. You had never been happier. 

Alas, this gratification, this enlightenment, this indulgence was not to last for you. About a month into your second year at the institute you received the frantic call from your mother in New Hampshire. There had been an accident involving your father. Your dad had a small excavating business, which he had started as a young man after a stint in the Army. He generated a small name for himself in your area and managed to secure just enough business to keep your family afloat financially. Each fall it was his habit to pick up as much work as possible before the winter settled in when he would again rely on his snowplow. This fall was no different. One late afternoon in mid-October your dad was operating his bulldozer alone at a remote site some distance from town. He apparently stepped out of his machine to pull on something of interest from the freshly scraped earth when the idling dozer suddenly advanced pinning him to a large white pine. He wasn’t found until the next morning. You were told with precious little tact by the land owner that he was found unresponsive with a swollen blue face and well beyond the use of any life saving techniques. Your mother was called by the police and told an investigation was ongoing, but that it appeared this was simply a “tragic accident”.  

You are an only child. And in your family in-depth disclosures of feelings were never typical conversation topics. Hearing your mother’s anguish on your phone was unlike anything you had ever heard before. Her voice was so profoundly sorrowful. This sound shocked you more than the actual news of your father’s death. There was no question, but that everything you had going on at UCLA would have to be immediately dropped, so you could be with your mother straight away. In a stupor, you arranged to fly from LAX to Boston and from there took a Dartmouth Coach to Lebanon where you had arranged for a ride to take you home. The silence and darkness that awaited you in your house was more than unnerving. Your mom was sitting alone in her easy chair. She looked up at you once when you turned on the light, but said nothing. She didn’t need to. The woeful look and swollen eyes said enough. 

Your mother needed help and you had just lost your father. You were unquestionably in mourning for both of your parents, but the event didn’t paralyze you. It felt odd to you that you could carry on with burying your father and helping your mother put one foot in front of the other. In retrospect, you see it was a show of strength. But at the time, you were just doing what needed to be done. Not to say any of this was easy for you. Once your dad was laid to rest there was the matter of closing his business, dealing with his creditors, finding other excavators to complete his unfinished jobs, and selling off his equipment. You approached these tasks as if they were school assignments. You researched, formulated strategies, developed processes, and implemented each step systematically. This approach would have been improbable had you not had the training provided to you in college. For that you were grateful. 

There was never any going back to normal for your mother. She descended into an incoherent, depressed, and agitated state, which fluctuated greatly. Not very social to begin with, she withdrew almost entirely from friends and the community. Continuing her office administration job at the furniture and lighting fixture retail store where she had been employed for years was impossible. Anxiety ruled her days. She would veer from days of staying in bed for hours upon hours to pacing around the house during early mornings, because she couldn’t sleep. Soon it was clear to you that by remaining a constant presence in her life was helping her to achieve relatively functioning plateaus. This realization solidified a decision you were hoping to avoid. You were not going back to Los Angeles and school. 

Your degree in archeology was never completed. You never accepted this. Why should you? Rather, you only surrendered to it. This distinction left you feeling forsaken. Nevertheless, the pressure to find work took hold. The thought of your mother losing her home in addition to the upheaval her life had already become turned into an urgency. Fortunately, in short time your passion for learning and your disdain for taking a less than stimulating job combined to crystalize a pursuit you never considered before.  

While walking in your old woods one afternoon, feeling wracked with uncertainty and confusion about how to carry on with a job search, you were struck by the stature of a grand red oak. This beast of a tree was probably one hundred and fifty to two hundred years old. Being winter, only a few brown crinkled leaves remained of its crown. Still, the massive diameter of its trunk and reach of its stout limbs spoke to you of strength, endurance, and fortitude. Standing at the tree’s base you removed your gloves and placed the palms of your hands on its gray deeply crevassed bark. In the field of archeology, you were practiced at holding artifacts both precious and mundane and would feel their presence. You perceived an aura from these objects as if waves of long past human experience were being communicated to you. You found these encounters extremely satisfying.  

As you pressed your hands against the magnificent oak it too spoke to you. An ancient wisdom, viscerally tasted, produced a connection between the plant and you. Minutes passed. The tree continued to transmit and articulate its message, obscure at first, but increasingly evident. The environment in which you were destined to remain rooted was heavily forested. Trees could be the living and tangible artifacts of your life going forward. A notion began to take shape, transferring your thirst for knowledge about concrete substances and materials from the past to actual, palpable, and physical entities of the present may lead to a possible path out of your despair. 

Today, you are working toward building a specialty in the creation and maintenance of groves and orchards. Spaces that are often functional or aesthetic for your customers, but which are to you are sacred. Knowing things could have been different continues to interfere with what is. Your salvation, such as it is, involves being in these woodland places of light and growth where you need to forget what was and envision what can be.  

I remain ever hopeful for you.            

An opinion written during the fall of 2019 

The great challenge for the people of the United States as we move deeper into this century is to extend the privileges of democratic engagement, economic opportunity, and the capacity to shape cultural assimilation and definition within an increasingly complex and diverse citizenry.  

For more than 240 years America has been continually faced with an epic mission presented to us by the nation’s Founders. It was simply to create a government “of the people, by the people, and for the people”. Doing just this, however, has been anything but easy. Demonstrating democracy with its inherent need for political participation and engagement within a pluralistic society, one which is comprised of traditional and shifting ideals and principles, has been and continues to be an existential exercise of both profound significance and enormous difficulty. Despite all of the practice and history we as a people have with perfecting democracy there is much progress yet to be made. 

It can be disheartening to realize there is no fully successful period we can look back to over the past two and a half centuries to claim American democracy had reached superiority. At no time has there been a commonly shared fortune of power apportioning, wealth allocation, or a broad set of mutually recognized voices determining who we are as a nation. Power and wealth tend to concentrate among those making up preferential groups. Historically, governments were organized around the ideals of aristocracy or some other form of autocracy, in which it was widely accepted that all-powerful authorities held reign. America was supposed to be different. Our revolution stated control was to be self-assigned equally. All would have a say in how the pursuit of happiness was to be achieved. To date, we have fallen short in honoring and realizing this value. 

As socially divergent as America was from European aristocracies at the time of its founding the country simultaneously carried the burden of class and race segregation adopted from Europe. While we were giving expression to Enlightenment principles at a scale never before done in the history of the world, we were also furthering many of the features of group domination over those people deemed to be weaker. This was consistent with despotic rule. Our country’s story is replete with examples of dominion, most often by white male and monied interests, lording over ethnicities, races, and genders not fitting into this Euro-centric mold. 

Each generation has included and elevated those individuals with passions for universal fairness, inclusion, and equality. Though up against great and at times insurmountable odds these circumspect and forward-leaning patriots have led movements and missions that over time have integrated deep-seated and liberating levels of egalitarian practice and recognition among the people. Prime examples include ending slavery, child labor, and civil rights discrimination, while instituting women’s right to vote, labor unions, and gay marriage. Now, as we burrow into the 21st century we are acclimated as a people to readily voice fairness concerns when any group is disenfranchised, including even those who once represented cultural, racial, and economic leadership. 

This time is no different. Discrimination and racism are still with us. The needs of large swaths of Americans are underserved and underrepresented. Cultural and economic ascendancy for a finite few can easily be recognized. In short, the rewards of prosperity and inclusion are not widely enough distributed. Inequality continues to reign, justice is denied, dreams are unrealized, and lives are unfulfilled. 

However, while we remain stuck in social disparity America’s challenge at this point in its history does present a unique arrangement of conditions. The current conflict is centered on two major problems, one primarily economic and the other cultural. Economically, we are living with the consequences of decades of neoliberal, free market fundamentalism in the corporate sector that has boosted Gross Domestic Product and for the most part Wall Street, but has not lifted the living standards of all citizens. Secondly, we are now in the midst of a long-term demographic realignment that is presenting as an increase in the numbers of formerly minority populations of African Americans, Latinx, and Asians with a corresponding decline in the percentage of the overall population occupied by Euro-based Caucasians.  

Both of these significant phenomena, which are occurring simultaneously, require not only weighty political interventions, but an all-hands-on-deck grappling of what it means to be an American. To repeat, the Founders laid down a dare for themselves and for future generations—are we going to fashion a representative government that allows everyone to participate in national gain or are we going to continue the long unjust and inequitable governing traditions of our past? This choice is unmistakable and unavoidable. What follows are thoughts concerning the achievement of successful results on both fronts, in particular regarding democratic engagement, economic opportunity, and cultural inclusion. 

•••• 

The basic economic outcomes being sought by most people adding up to a decent life are not complicated. Nor should they be elusive. They include employment with fair pay; safety and security for oneself and one’s family; an ability to be educated and to educate one’s children; having a long-term home; good healthcare; and means to live a dignified retirement. Relative equality in these critical and much desired areas should not be too much to ask from the citizens and leaders of a rich country. When there is widespread cultural adherence to the values of social justice and universal opportunity these outcomes should result. However, given 11.8% (2018) or 38+ million Americans live below the poverty rate (family of four living below an income of $25,465) and with many others living close to this edge we are faced with a reality that too many citizens are not realizing basic humanitarian living outcomes in this country.  

There doesn’t appear to be prevalent agreement that the conditions stated above are a problem. For example, a common refrain heard from supporters of President Trump is that too many losers, troublemakers, outsiders, criminals, perverts, etc. are quick to take handouts from hard working average Americans who are having all they can do to make ends meet. The idea of giving healthcare to illegal immigrants yearning to be American, for example, is particularly upsetting. In general, poor minorities are seen by many as somehow deviant. Since they were not raised with all of the same values and behaviors, never mind the looks, of the white dominant class they are not worthy of assistance or care. It’s worth noting 76.5% of the U.S. population is white and that proportion is in decline. Moving beyond systemic racism must precede debates about what is fair and what we should expect from one another as Americans.  

Acceptance and inclusion of all people able to call themselves American must occur before the fruits of economic well-being are to be shared in a reasonably equitable manner. Cultures historically seem to have a default mode of self-imposed segregation and preservation rather than an inclination toward tolerance of differences and assimilation. As the late Samuel P. Huntington, a political scientist, wrote during the 1990s, sustaining the characteristics of civilizations will continue to shape the nature of global politics more powerfully than ideologies or even nation states. Culture, or the traits that define shared behavior and thoughts, form the underpinning of the organizational development of like citizens known as civilization. The visceral power of culture and by extension civilization cannot be understated when determining the interactions of people around the world.  

America claims to be exceptional. Our unique founding with its philosophical foundation based in republican ideals rather than centered in a single ethnicity or conventional heritage makes our experiment extraordinary. Despite the culturally English and monarchical background of the founders they nevertheless were inspired to institute a representative democracy, a form of government never before brought to such a large scale. Fundamentally, this was an expression of the nation being of the people and not the sole possession of any family or divine ruler. By declaring itself as a representative democracy the young nation announced to the world that this place was different, better, and welcoming. This concept was and still is revolutionary. 

Given our history of not entirely living up to a pervasive representation of all members of our diverse society and also given the present moment of our political polarization, it is of great importance that all Americans unite culturally, societal, and enthusiastically to reassert our collective pledge to honor universal inclusion of all Americans, no matter one’s race, ethnicity, background, or religion, and to dismantle any remaining barriers or future designs intended to discourage full democratic participation. As the American writer-activist James Baldwin put in in the 1960s, “We are trying to forge a new identity for which we need each other…”. We are indeed. 

Principal impediments to this ideal are expressed by antiquated beliefs of racial purity, a long-standing expectation that minorities should aspire to conditions set by the dominant class, and a profound inability to comprehend the perceptions and prospects of those born and raised in other communities and circumstances. These handicaps lead to disjointed interactions among the citizenry with the result being some people are disenfranchised while others belong. And it is difficult for the in-crowd to see this disassociation. Psychiatrist Karl Menninger once wrote, “It is hard for a free fish to understand what is happening to a hooked one.” Hard, yes. Impossible, no.  

The United States of America has achieved iconic greatness as evidenced by countless countrymen and countrywomen bearing and fostering lives of delectation, purpose, and abundance. America’s challenge, therefore is that there should be no rest, no complacency, and no satisfaction until collective purpose as exemplified by general opportunity, means, and fellowship are afforded to each and every American. It is what we owe one another as allied compatriots.  

Wanting 

A child 

Sees the clear difference 

Between what she and others have 

Material riches, self-worth, dignity 

Not sure what is wrong 

But something definitely is wrong 

Work hard. Be like us. 

The message others give 

Nighttime hunger, outgrown clothes 

No new shoes at the start of school 

Fatigue, vagueness, fog, indignation 

Hard to be what they want me to be 

Depression, misbehavior, stern looks from teachers 

Why not?  

Life is unfair 

Living from rental to rental to rental 

Despairing parents 

Missing future 

Absent opportunity 

She stares into space 

Dying 

Brain takes command 

as always 

to prepare for death 

No more plans to make 

short-term memory 

loses importance 

replaced by life review 

decades-old events 

revisited 

Sleep prevails 

systems slow 

consciousness wanes 

peace descends 

Food and water 

are rejected 

for days and days 

while the catheter 

fills less and less 

The body 

dwindles and declines 

sliding into 

cocoon-like embrace 

slow reach to 

terminal stillness 

An Old Picture 

I ran across 

An old picture of my daughter 

Taken during the 1990s. 

It makes me sad 

That I can’t relive just one day 

Of her at that age 

Ever again. 

Moments 

To feel 

Moods strike stealthily 

Good humor, bad sentiment 

Push and pull of psyche 

Habits hard to break 

Circumstances take control 

Stronger than mind 

Stronger than heart 

Peer through haze 

Touch habitual responses 

Cultivate curiosity 

Embrace growth 

Gamble with uncertainty 

Impulses emerge  

Patterns arise 

Pleasure and pain are what they are 

Observe their nuance 

Free of judgment 

Live with what is 

Like never before 

Folk 

Family 

Wife, Son, Daughter 

Extraordinary lives 

Core of being 

Live in love 

Live in fear 

Don’t be taken away 

Appreciation is lacking 

Immeasurable passion 

Devotion to die for 

The choice is mine alone 

Young families 

Coordinate child care 

Am now free of that burden 

But at what cost? 

Groundlessness and self-centeredness 

Poor substitutes for nurturing 

Los Angeles 

Density 

Drone of ‘The 2’ 

Voices across properties 

Layered aircraft 

Hot days 

Cool nights 

Dry polluted air 

The Moon shines here too 

Mixed cultures 

Brown skin 

Interaction 

So many stories 

Sea of humanity 

Neighborhood islands 

Small houses 

Eccentric styling 

Reputation 

Creative flow 

Music and acting 

Hub of entertainment 

Domingo 

Highland Park supermercado 

Barbacoa de pollo e carne  

Bueno con cerveza fria 

Walk along Verdugo  

LA middle class 

Din of cars 

Birdsong background 

Orange 

Orange needles, once green, lie on the ground 

Orange leaves cling ever tenuously to maple trees 

Ripe pumpkins sit on a stonewall 

Passing light displays an orange radiance 

Once inside, the first warming fires cast an orange glow 

The calmness of yellow merges with the urgency of red 

To signal the demise of summer and winter’s inception  

This pigmented time of year produces associations 

And reminders of traditions 

Walks across campus quads and leaf strewn trails 

Establishment of studious and productive mindsets 

Plans made previously unfold with predictability and anticipation 

Gardens put to bed and warm weather paraphernalia packed away 

Sweaters and corduroys briefly forgotten are reintroduced  

Oaks foretell mice, chipmunk, hawk, and fox populations 

By the volume of their acorn drops 

Floral life, verdant and full not so long ago, languishes 

Mountain sides pop as palettes of complexion 

Auburn crowned birches lean over running brooks 

Lakes reflect angled beams of light, yielding their annual shimmer 

Air carries the pungent smell of decay and disintegration 

Cool air prompts more campfires 

There is still dried pine to eliminate 

The flames dance with orange brilliance 

Against hard granite stones 

Staring for hours into the blaze 

Contemplating the present moment 

And the frigid winter to come 

Dogs 

Their soulful, expressive eyes 

Short fur on tops of heads 

calling to be stroked and scratched 

Layers of affection and anxiety 

We finessed, managed, and loved them  

for so many years 

Rusty was the first 

When I was a little boy 

The big shaggy Collie didn’t last long 

Chasing cars, chewing shoes 

My earliest remembered profound sadness 

to know he had been given away 

Kemo came from a New Bedford shelter 

My life partner loved dogs 

We tried together to keep him 

Nervous, desperate, unpredictable 

“Damaged goods” is a usable phrase 

to best describe the poor boy 

Karga was on loan for a year or two 

A huge German Shepard and 

gentle giant 

Diligently guarding our son’s home birth 

in a rural New Hampshire farmhouse 

Sikkum, the Lhasa Apso 

could turn women’s heads 

when I walked him on Concord streets 

Our boy’s first dog  

who required more patience than I showed 

 Ahh, Else, the “girl biter” 

The Chocolate Lab lasted fifteen years 

A true family dog 

Was present when our daughter arrived 

Beautiful dog, loving relationship 

who would sell her soul for just one more bite 

of food 

Elwood, a most handsome German Short-haired Pointer 

needed a new home 

We were seduced by his tri-color palette 

but tested by his fears 

which grew worse over nine years 

We all tried so hard 

We all tried, Elwood 

Regal Tess had been abandoned 

An aloof and strong-willed Standard Poodle 

who preferred women over men 

A curly gray ghost with a singular agenda 

that was hard to penetrate 

I think, but am not sure 

she was grateful for what she was given 

Pepper stayed for her final eighteen months 

Her old owners had to depart 

for a nursing home 

She departed for our home 

A ragamuffin mix of Terrier this and that 

My only regret is that 

she had not spent her whole life with us 

Ernest came to retire in New Hampshire  

from urban California 

Our first hound. A howling experience 

Between us he sat 

on cold winter days and nights 

before the flickering woodstove 

melting our hearts 

Cringeworthy 

An uncomfortable 

but valuable (I think) 

phenomenon is occurring 

now that I’m retired. 

Unprompted and spontaneous memories of 

stupid-ass, 

embarrassing, 

awkward, 

tactless, 

faux pas situations 

I committed 

over many years 

are stinging my consciousness. 

There are many years to cover 

and numerous instances on which to reflect. 

Having stepped into it  

as frequently as I have 

gives my deep memory 

much grist for my mental mill. 

Why this is happening 

I am not sure. 

Perhaps I’m primed 

for a life review 

coupled with a slap 

upside the head. 

God knows I deserve it. 

My response 

after my initial cringe 

is resolve. 

Live more present. 

Observe more acutely. 

Be kinder. 

Reach out intentionally. 

Add and not subtract 

from future interactions. 

Beats just feeling like shit. 

Rooted Aimlessness 

Physics takes a recess while 

disparate experiences blend. 

Dream-like views prevail and 

suggestion becomes what it is. 

Like counting blueberries picked 

during moments leading to death. 

Also, weather becomes predictable 

like it has all happened before. 

Mothers and fathers fade away 

while suns burn hot. 

The aging actor only gets roles 

for characters who are old. 

Nurses heal, teachers teach, and 

everyone tries to carry on. 

The bridge’s incline keeps rising 

leaving me scared to gape over the peak. 

Peering into the eyes of dogs and horses 

is like seeing life itself. 

I miss the country when 

I’m too long in urban sprawl. 

Can I please be excused? 

A reflection written during the summer of 2019 

The day begins as many do with the making of coffee. While the water is heating to a boil and during the time it takes for the hot water to drip through ground coffee, I begin to arrange dishes, cups, glasses, and silverware, which have been air drying overnight onto and into their respective places on shelves, drawers, and cupboards.  

While sipping caffeine my mind turns to the day’s tasks before me. Clothes need to be washed, dried, folded, and arrayed in dressers; the house needs to be cleaned and made to look orderly for guests arriving later today; the garage has descended into an unorganized mess, such that I can’t slide my car in; the refrigerator and pantry require restocking; unopened mail is stacked on my desk calling for attention; and on and on and on.   

Many days are like this. A significant part of the mundane life involves putting things in their place. Another day, another corralling of cats. The multitude of variables attached to physical entities that occupy, crowd, intrude, define, and fill our lives call out to us continually, forcing us to decide on any number of organizing courses to take. For all of our possessions demand choices to be made. Do we ignore, dispose, categorize, save, give, sell, bequeath, or destroy each of these countless items we’ve bought, acquired, or adopted? These decisions can’t be avoided, because the natural order of things is that our stuff and consequently our lives progressively descend into disorder.  

The list of must-dos we assign ourselves is vast indeed. They include an endless list of activities related to maintaining a home, occupation, family, community, and environment. Efficiency and custom dictate that everything has its place, so we engage in unceasing arranging and re-arranging of materials in a never-ending energy and time expenditure. Pick up, shelve, store, tidy, clean, and pack. And to what avail? Is the effort worth it?  

I’ve often questioned whether the vast amounts of time spent on combating muddle has value. Why, after all, can’t we just live life as it is without feeling this urgency to establish and maintain countless patterns and systems? Isn’t the universe unfolding as it should without need for our frantic and artificial human interventions?  

Entropy is a term borrowed from physics, more specifically thermodynamics. Technically it refers to the naturally occurring disorder and randomness of a system’s thermal energy, rendering the energy less available for conversion into mechanical work. For the layman, it is a useful word for describing everyday chaos, turmoil, and disarray that can occur if left unattended. As seems to be our common perception, the disparate yet connected domains that make up our worlds do seem to be forever crumbling before us, urging us to sandbag against an impending flood of clutter time and time again. So there. Entropy. We now have a word for it. 

It undoubtedly appears that I have tipped my hand in this piece by explicitly leaning in a critical direction when suggesting there may be liabilities of too much entropy-reducing indulgence. After all, isn’t there more to life than marshalling belongings? Do we run a risk of enslaving ourselves to a life of constant orderliness, leaving little time and energy for more enriching pursuits? Yes, I do believe this is a condition we must guard against. When the realization snaps into focus that nearly every waking hour is dedicated to some manner of organization is a good time to consider the possibility of alternatives.  

The trick for me, and I suspect for many other people, is in determining how to live with just enough life-sustaining upkeep to enjoy the benefits of a well-ordered world, while not becoming consumed by an over-maintenance of seemingly humdrum details. Perhaps a means of identifying where on the ‘neat-freak/c’est la vie’ spectrum one is can be approached by conducting a type of cost-benefit or SWOT analysis. (SWOT, by the way, stands for Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, Threats. It’s a business school thing.) A purposeful self-examination can get us focused on the potential and actual gains of combatting entropy and how much outlay of time, energy, and stress is worth expending to realize these rewards. 

We all have an individualized way of approaching such a personal inquiry. For example, let’s say I am examining my disheveled surroundings. I have a tertiary choice. Leave it as it is, add to the mess, or intervene by cleaning. What drives my decision? Ultimately it comes down to what will make feel better. Will I find greater satisfaction by preserving the status quo, by contributing to the chaos, or by tidying up? So, which will it be?  

My strength is in doing what feels right to me. My version of propriety means I am following a valued course of action, which has the added value of creating an incentive or opportunity to perform other acts of decorum. To give into my weakness would be to procrastinate and avoid action, possibly setting the stage for other confrontations, which may leave me unable to cope. Do I want to feel empowered or not? Emotion governs behavior. 

Perhaps, nature can serve as a guide. Free of human involvement the earth’s other life forms, the most conspicuous being plants and animals, just go about their business of sheltering, feeding, and procreating. No muss, no fuss. The process appears pre-determined and programmed and there are challenges to be sure, but overall the generations manage to burn brightly for their allotted time, followed by a convenient decomposition, providing grist for succeeding lifetimes.  

We humans in contrast have certainly arranged to complicate our time on earth considerably. To live in a manner inspired by nature may simplify our range of freewill demands. We could give ourselves permission to match the rhythm and pace of the natural world by calibrating mindfully the amount of demands we cram into a day with the potential freedom that can come from a more intrinsic outlook.  

Free of an unforced over-organizing tyranny it becomes possible to glide through life unhurried, with less stress, and fewer regulations. We are liberated to enjoy life as it is and consciously feel gratitude for our surroundings, even if they are somewhat disordered. To stand in our own power without worrying what others think becomes easier to do. Getting control of our own lives and schedules can be the tangible result of intentionally letting go of the incidentals. 

On the other hand, a degree of order enhances life and ties us to a comforting sense of place. In a chaotic world we need predictability and stability to ground and center us. Immersing ourselves in an environment that increases both situational efficiency in that we know where things are when we need them, but that also soothes our souls as we take in our pre-arranged décor, art, and sentimental objects tastefully configured around us.    

In truth, the choice before us is not one of selecting entropy-reducing enslavement versus living a life of disarray absent order or organization. The answer for each of us individually is to find our own plot point on the spectrum between these extremes. However, broadening our awareness about how and why we confront entropy in the manner we typically do on a daily basis can be self-informative about how we meet life’s challenges, the allocation of time and energy we expend addressing what we think is important, and the level of joy we derive from each day.   

A reflection written during the Spring of 2019

My earliest political memory is from the early evening of Tuesday, November 8, 1960. It was the night John F. Kennedy won the presidency. My mother needed to run out to a store of some sort and I sat in the back seat of the car. It was cold and dark. I was seven years old and living in Lenox, Massachusetts. My mother’s nervous energy and intense concern were palpable. She and my Massachusetts Irish Roman Catholic Democrat father wanted very much for Kennedy to win. The car radio crackled, because my Mom was desperate to not miss any news about the election that on this special night was dominating all broadcasting. This was the night I began to learn that politics was a big deal. 

In many ways my reverence for politics, history, and the importance of government came from those few years of President Kennedy’s administration. The Massachusetts Irish Catholic Democrat side of my family adored Kennedy. He was held up as the best thing to ever happen to this world—just shy of Jesus of course. My mother was a young German immigrant and she took her cues of what to believe in America from my father’s family. Regardless, she readily embraced the adoration of Kennedy. As a result, politics and the government were introduced to me as hopeful, inspiring, and fundamentally positive constructs. This belief shaped my approach to politics that in many ways continues to this day.  

The Kennedy story ended tragically of course. It was the afternoon of Friday, November 22, 1963. I was sitting in my fifth-grade classroom at Lenox Elementary School listening to a lesson our teacher Miss Neill was presenting, when our principal walked into the room, walked up to Miss Neill and whispered the news of the president’s assassination into our teacher’s ear. The shocked look on her face sent waves of anxiety throughout the room. In retrospect Miss Neill handled it all very well. She calmly, respectfully, but with obvious pain told a room full of ten and eleven-year old boys and girls what had happened to the president. It couldn’t have been easy to announce this news to us and it wasn’t easy for me to hear it. 

My mother cried for four days. The black & white television was on continuously carrying news of the shocking account. The grief was cutting and profound. I remember watching Oswald being shot on live TV, the president’s casket lying in state under the Capitol rotunda, and the salute John-John gave the funeral procession. To this day, I can relive the sorrow and gloom. It will never go away. 

One afternoon during the summer of 1964 my friend John and I made Johnson for President signs and held them up to traffic traveling on Walker Street in Lenox Dale. No one prompted us to do this. It was our idea of having fun and doing something meaningful. By then politics was of high interest. Although I don’t remember having a fondness for LBJ, nevertheless he was President Kennedy’s VP and had been sworn in on the day JFK died. That was enough reason to support him and I did so enthusiastically. Barry Goldwater, Johnson’s Republican opponent, was successfully portrayed across the country and in my circle of family and friends as a dangerous and unpredictable menace, who must be defeated at all costs. The election of 1964 cemented in my mind that Republicans were menacing and Democrats virtuous. For better or worse, the political narrative of my life has largely followed this course. 

1968 was a tumultuous year in American politics. I was in high school by then and totally drawn into the drama of civil rights and anti-war protests rocking the nation. Eugene McCarthy, a U.S. Senator from Minnesota, emerged early in the election cycle as liberal provocateur running for the Democratic presidential nomination with a demand to end the war in Vietnam as his principal issue. By this time young people were quite politically active, certainly compared to later periods. Many youthful, anti-war, counterculture types found McCarthy appealing. And therefore, so did I. My path of teenaged individuation hitched itself to this rainbow-colored, daisy-decaled bus. 

Prior to the election of 1972 I was old enough to vote. Full of urgency, I asked my father to take me to the town hall so I could register to vote as soon as I turned eighteen. The desire to vote continues to attract. I may have missed a few local elections held on a rainy Tuesday for offices seemingly far removed from my life. You know, the kind that garner 20% of the possible electorate, if that. But in general, I have been a loyal and devoted practitioner of the voting franchise. I have never missed a presidential or midterm election. Not one in 47 years.  

*** 

Politics is about values. History has taught us that for people to live in harmony with shared values is quite difficult and has too many times devolved into a deadly endeavor. Although articulated by an erudite American, the universal quest of citizens across the globe can reliably be said to converge on the pursuit of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Realizing the serious consequences of getting politics right occurred to me early on as profoundly important. Having had two parents whose young lives were consumed by World War II, one as a young girl in war-torn Germany and the other as a teenager fighting the Japanese in the South Pacific, I learned early about the repercussions of societal and cultural breakdown. 

I am also the product of the positive story America tells itself about our history and exceptionality. The myth of America as the Land of Opportunity, forged from a righteous revolution against tyranny, designed by an exceptional group of enlightened founders ordained to bring light and hope to the world was an exciting and inspiring tale to behold. It fit in naturally with a feeling that I was born into a country unparalleled in greatness and capability. We were the ones who won World War II, sent astronauts to the moon, invented products the world craved, and were large and powerful. This place and people must be special. I grew up proud to be an American. 

My patriotic optimism was soon tempered during my junior high school and high school years by the war in Vietnam. Early memories of the war are from Walter Cronkite and The Huntley Brinkley Report giving daily battle updates, news of troop movements and enemy atrocities, and the grizzly broadcasts of weekly casualty totals from Vietnam. The Viet Cong and North Vietnamese combined totals were always higher than American losses, which gave a sense of American fighting superiority. But I was a history enthusiast and remember thinking, does every generation of Americans have to fight in a war? And is this the one I will need to fight and possibly die in? It was not a comforting thought. This recognition was reinforced in 1973 when the Selective Service lottery drawing for my birth year (1953) was held. My number was 117, which was a relatively high and therefore safe number that year. I was relieved. It looked like I wasn’t going to Vietnam. 

As an aside, I did end up visiting Vietnam in 2014 with my wife. We spent a month working our way from Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) to Hanoi. It is a lovely country. My memories are fond. Regarding any connection to the war, there were visits to jarring and sobering war museums, but most significantly for me was to focus on the reception we received from the Vietnamese, who knew we were Americans. It was genuinely warm with no sense of animus, even in Hanoi, the locus of the former enemy. While on the streets of that city one afternoon my eye caught a group of local middle school-aged girls walking together on a sidewalk. Having once been a middle school teacher this was of interest to me. Amidst that cohort of friends as they receded from view revealing their backpacks was one who had on it stitched an American flag. Time can heal, I thought.        

By 1968 the war in Vietnam and the protests made me a cynic. I accepted rather briskly the idea that there was a dark side to the American enterprise. Why I found that my home country was capable of imperialist and grievous behavior and why many of my peers, as I’ve learned over the course of my life, did not is a mystery I’m stilling trying to solve. Needless to say, I became sympathetic to counterculture memes and the politics of liberalism, civil rights, toleration, peace, and a Rousseauian back-to-the-earth naturalism, infused with an anti-business/anti-capitalist belief. These influences guided my political thinking for many years and are addressed to this day in my political musings, but with greater maturity and sophistication—or so I would like to think. 

I have been a reliable Democrat voter. I’ve voted Democrat for every presidential candidate election since 1972, save one. In 1980 I voted for John Anderson, an independent challenging Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan. I have regretted that vote ever since, wishing I had voted for Jimmy Carter’s reelection, even now despite knowing the outcome. The pattern is the same for other elective offices. Almost always I voted for Democrats, occasionally for independents, but never for Republicans. I’ve clearly had a loyalty to the party. I remember my Aunt Betty telling me once while chatting with her about candidates in an upcoming election as we sat on Seabrook Beach, New Hampshire one afternoon when I was about twelve or thirteen years old that she routinely voted “straight ticket” for Democrats. I asked her to tell me what that meant. She said that a ballot gave a voter an option to vote for every candidate of a given party without having to select each one individually and that this was how she usually voted. This admission was another influence in my becoming a Democrat.  

*** 

A lifetime of interest in a particular field produces a depth of understanding. Much of my reading on a daily basis is political news. Since the creation of the internet it is easy to get deluged in political reporting and commentary. I love it. In addition to such study, I have found it very useful over the years to not just reinforce my political perceptions, but to challenge them. Indeed, much of the growth or maturation of my political beliefs is due to this simple dictum. Another useful practice has been to engage with others in vigorous political debate. This is a time that tests conjectures to see how they hold up to critical scrutiny, especially if communicating with others of differing persuasions. Together these habits have helped me to shape a personal ideology, dynamic to be sure, but serviceable in determining what I believe at any given time. Values clarification is grounding and political thought is really not much more than that.  

Despite George Washington’s reservations about Americans bifurcating themselves into two principal political parties it happened as soon as his term as president was over. The names and governing themes of both parties have changed over our history, but the paradigm of two competing political powerhouses ascertaining and articulating the values and ruling priorities of the country remains constant. To a large extent the popular will of the people can be comprehended by understanding the preferences of each party. Following is my objective assessment of the Republicans and the Democrats in 2019. 

Today’s Republican Party is harder to define than in recent years due to the rise of Trumpism. Prior to the presidential candidacy announcement of Donald Trump in 2015 I would have ascribed the following characteristics to Republicans: They believed in small government, low taxes, little regulation, personal freedom/responsibility, hawkish foreign policy, free trade, a right to gun ownership, and the facilitation of business growth. But since the rise of Newt Gingrich in the 1990s Republican campaign and governing tactics took a sharp turn toward abandoning democratic norms of mutual tolerance for political opponents and forbearance, by which is meant applying restraint when exercising institutional leverage. Gingrich advocated for hyper-partisanship and enhanced combativeness in dealing with political rivals that is now commonplace, reaching its zenith in the presidency of Donald Trump. 

The Republican Party has become an amalgamation of anti-establishment, anti-institutional, anti-immigration activists motivated by a populist return to a time when white men were the controlling demographic group. They are threatened by multiculturalism, claims of climate change, economic globalization, women equality, gun regulations, free trade, and pressures to curb corporate intervention in governance. Republicans have also adopted a much more non-interventionist approach to foreign policy, abandoning traditional international alliances and holding back on committing American troops to overseas hotspots. Despite this they see fit to increase military spending. What remains from Republicans of old is a penchant for low taxes of the rich, pro-business policies, and individual freedom. 

The Democratic Party, with which I am affiliated due to cultural and familial reasons already mentioned, and with a history reaching back to Thomas Jefferson and James Madison is the oldest active political party in the world. It went through significant changes over this time and its background is a blend of both admirable and egregious positions. The current Democratic Party can be traced back to the robust federal interventionism, some would say intrusion, of President Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal programs of the 1930s. The result is a modern party that promotes the interests of labor, minorities, women’s rights, gay rights, immigrant assimilation, universal healthcare, environmental protections, opportunities for the disenfranchised, consumer safeguards, higher education, and urban issues.  

Democrats are faced with a big challenge at present concerning wealth inequality. From the time of its founding in the early 19th century the party aligned itself with agrarian concerns and away from banking and business interests. In short, it has a long history of being the party of the “people”, by which is meant in today’s vernacular the working class. However, in recent decades an unforeseen abnormality has occurred. As many of the Baby Boomer children of the mid 20th century received college educations and correspondingly higher standards of living than their parents the affairs of the working class increasingly receded from among affluent Democrats. This became glaringly obvious when many of the types of voters who historically would have voted Democratic voted for Trump and the Republicans instead in 2016. This has led to a bifurcated party of progressives, who in part want to re-establish outreach to those lower on the socioeconomic spectrum primarily through wealth redistribution and the centrists, who see capitalism and economic growth along with redistribution as a foundation for financing programs for the poor and lower middle class.  

An argument can be made that we may be seeing another realignment of the party system, in which former working-class Democrats are shifting to Republicans permanently and educated high income suburban voters who in the past leaned Republican are shifting to the Democratic Party. The 2018 midterm elections supported this view and the 2020 election may reveal more about whether such a partisan transformation is in fact occurring. My sense tells me that it is. 

*** 

What I have presented thus far is a prelude to my prevailing political thought. It is worth noting in describing these values that I am consciously and intentionally trying to avoid animus, malevolence, and acrimony despite my day to day strident feelings toward the political opposition. Rather, I am relying on a combination of innate optimism regarding human nature and what I see as a refined observational astuteness of contemporary conditions within a historic context. Afterall, I have been paying attention to this stuff for about 50 years.  

In describing my ideology, I intend to paint with a rather broad brush, finding it unnecessary at this time to “get into the weeds” concerning political positions. This will not be a well-researched white paper detailing policy prerogatives supported by sophisticated rationales. Relatively expansive themes concerning what I see to be political fundamentals will instead be the order of the day.  

—————————————————————————————————————— 

I begin by laying out what I’ve been calling for some years the “3 dichotomies”. At around 2007 or so I had this epiphany that explained to me some, if not the, elemental differences between liberal and conservative thinking. Boiled down they are: 

Distribution vs Production, Community vs Individual, Equality vs Liberty  

The left side of each “vs” is predominately a liberal value and the right side is chiefly a conservative value. When I first concluded these dualities made sense, I quickly realized that I was a political moderate or centrist. And that was fine. All of these values I shared. Sure, I leaned left historically and emotionally, but it was now much easier to not demonize those on the right.  I felt relieved at not having to remain in a defensive posture supporting liberalism as the only valid dogma. Tension between each of these dichotomies is how the political philosophies struggle, engage, and debate. If conditions skew too far in any one direction, then the balancing tendency of American democracy asserts itself. I am still comfortable thinking this simplistic rationalization is functionally accurate. To me it explains a lot of partisan wrangling. 

—————————————————————————————————————— 

Politics is largely about economics or the distribution of wealth and power throughout the population. Individuals want to know that the system of resource apportionment is fair. Of course, political conflict comes from how all of the disparate people of a nation define ‘fair’. As a result, questions of policy, programs, and initiatives often seem to be about what priorities are worth the appropriations of tax revenue. However, I think all of this activity, while incredibly valuable, masks or distracts from what is most fundamental and paramount regarding politics — the continuation of cultural traditions and identity.  

Culture, more than politics or even nationalism binds us as a people viscerally and elementally. It’s what ties us to our past, informs our present, and inspires our future. Languages, religions, values, histories, holidays, shared knowledge, proverbs, and accepted behaviors just begin to describe the unifying power of culture. That which we believe sustains our civilization motivates our politics. The force of cultural expression cannot be easily understated or challenged. 

The deep sensibility of culture needs to be calculated when appraising the cogency of a political focus. Appealing to tradition can take a positive or a negative turn. For example, Ronald Reagan was smart to entice voters with images, such as “Morning in America” and America as a “City on a Hill” that poetically reached into the heart of the nation. Donald Trump on the other hand conjured trepidations of immigrant invaders and the rise of the ‘other’, by which is meant non-whites, taking over our way of life. Such fear-mongering significantly contributed to his 2016 win. 

—————————————————————————————————————— 

A quote from Zen teacher Diane Musho Hamilton serves as a good opening to my next value: “Rather than relying on a thin, idealized hope that we will all one day just get along, we can approach conflict resolution as an art form that we are privileged to develop and hone.” 

I long ago abandoned the fantasy that there is only one right way to think. Especially when it comes to the best way to solve problems or improve the world. Politics emerges as soon as two people confront a shared reality. If there is motivation by one or both individuals to alter in any way that reality a negotiation takes place. The ensuing transaction is almost always influenced by a power dynamic. Each person tries to exert compelling leverage to most influence the outcome. The individual most able to persuade, generally achieves that goal. This everyday practice seems natural to me.  

I link political power and persuasion as foundational to a democracy. The more convincing one is the more powerful they become. Democracy assumes an equal footing for all individuals and groups to practice persuasion in order to effect change or continue traditions. If that basis is perverted by one party grasping political power through unjust means, such as over-exerting the inducement of money or taking control by military-style force, then democracy ceases as a practical governing   model.  

I am most often impressed with political exchanges that yield progress by reflecting an amalgamation of differing viewpoints constructed from the persuasive attempts of multiple parties. In short, compromise. Forging agreement among opposing interests is very difficult. It requires four things: 

All negotiating groups are committed to the concept of compromise as a fundamentally fair practice and agree to negotiate in a civil manner. 

A search for common ground or shared interests is conducted. 

All sides are able to claim a win to some degree in whatever the final outcome turns out to be. 

Everyone agrees to abide by the terms and conditions of the comprise until a renegotiation occurs.   

  Political maneuvering that is fair, mature, courteous, and respectful while also being calculated, tough-minded, strategic, and forceful can be a beautiful thing to behold.           

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Much is made of American exceptionalism. Interpretation of the concept is multifarious. And it seems everyone who uses the term seems is exceptionally confident they have the right meaning. There are variations of American exceptionalism espoused. They range from a view that the United States has a historically unique origin born from ideology and revolution to the notion that we have a missionary imperative to spread the ideals of liberty, egalitarianism, and democracy across the globe to a belief Americans are ascendant. I’m comfortable with all of this conviction except for American superiority. Accepting we are better than everyone else smacks of tribalism and plants the seeds of unnecessary conflict.  

I recognize and embrace that we have something special here in America. In particular and perhaps most important is our 243-year experiment in representative democracy. Within a group of like-minded individuals, who share similar histories, ethnic backgrounds, and cultural traits democracy is not an especially challenging governing method. Majority opinion is easily formed and debate about how to best approach issues is reasonably tame. This is not our experience. The United States is a multicultural nation in which a diverse set of influences flow to form a volatile and ever contentious mix of power, rights, beliefs, assessments, and perspectives. Reaching consensus among the many disparate interests that make up our country is incredibly arduous.  

As Winston Churchill said in part during a speech before the House of Commons in 1947 “…democracy is the worst form of Government except for all those other forms that have been tried…”. How true. I have a deep reverence for democracy. It blends the best parts of individualism and collectivism, representing a mature form of governance. To be sure, if not well managed, it can lead to oppressive majority rule. After all, Adolf Hitler rose to leadership as a result of a democratic process. We should never be complacent in thinking democracy once established is permanently to remain in place. Democratic governance has not been the norm throughout human history and there remain powerful forces, even here in the United States, which could topple democracy.  

For democracy to remain vibrant and useful the people of the country must respect each other. Fundamental conditions include mutual toleration, accepting the political legitimacy of competing political forces, and the results of free and fair elections. Without this basic level of regard for our fellow citizens, then we cannot work in political harmony even as we vigorously oppose each other’s positions. Democracy sets up rules of engagement that all agree to adhere to. Sometimes your side wins, sometimes it loses. Developing the art of persuasion becomes paramount within a democratic system. Exercising inordinate force that delegitimizes or overly weakens one’s political opponents threatens democracy, the nation, and the citizenry. Therefore, I revere democracy over ideology. An ideal that triumphs as a result of extra-democratic power is not an ideology worth celebrating.   

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The two grand pillars that support and define politics are culture and economics. I pay a lot of attention to how these foundational concepts play out both in contemporary politics and historically. However, it is the latter of these two principles that I would like to address the following thoughts. 

A dominant view is economics boiling down simply to the production, distribution, and consumption of goods and services. With regards to politics, I include the general welfare of people as the core point of the economic activity just identified. All individuals and communities need both goods and services, otherwise known as resources, to consume in order to establish and sustain quality lives. Also crucial is the dignity and purpose involved in producing and distributing those goods and services to others. We are all economic agents. How and for whom many resources are produced, distributed, and consumed informs much of political discourse and government intervention.  

The “pie” continues to be a useful metaphor for reducing a complex social science to a comprehendible instrument for lay people. This economic pie shrinks and grows and is sliced in any number of ways. It is these three actions—growing, shrinking, and slicing—that consume much of the discussion about the pie. Correctly calibrating the right amounts of pie growing, shrinking, and slicing to induce social benefits, such as full employment and relative wealth equality, but also business benefits like maximum production of high value goods and services is a most difficult undertaking.  

Systemizing this challenge has been tried worldwide with a variety of economic models over recent history, ranging from highly centralized government command measures (Socialism and Communism) to laissez faire free market systems (Capitalism). In reality, what emerges from the philosophical give and take of politics is an amalgamation of the two extremities. I’m fine with the tug-a-war between Socialism and Capitalism. The struggle strikes me as natural. However, I recognize that over the arc of my political thought, I have moved from a greater belief in the merits of Socialism to an adherence of Capitalism.       

Although well intended Socialism requires a heavy concentration of power in government. It is this notion of condensed power, whether in government or any entity for that matter, where I get uncomfortable. Diffusion of authority across several institutions or agencies, such as government, business, and a free media creates a check and balance system not unlike the self-regulating arrangement within the federal government of executive, legislative, and the judicial. Socialism assumes there is an all-knowing group of decision makers who put the economic interests of everyone first. The problem is as history has shown multiple times that those in charge of socialist regimes tend to fortify themselves with levels of power not susceptible to democratic criticism or compromise. Additionally, socialism typically produces slow economic growth and reduced motivation and innovation among workers.  

Capitalism assumes private ownership of industry with profit as the prime motivator. History shows capitalism to provide robust economic growth, characterized by innovations that have improved lives worldwide. Since the onset of market economies, which were a key result of the values of individualism and reason spurred by the Age of Enlightenment, capitalism has contributed significantly to modernity and many of the benefits millions enjoy today. Of course, any paradigm has its shortcomings and capitalism is not exempt. Without regulatory controls capitalism can lead to wealth inequalities with a small number of very rich people controlling most of the capital, an exploited working class experiencing hard work and low wages, manipulated consumer prices, and an unstable series of booms and busts. 

Simplistically stated, capitalism determines the size of the economic pie and socialism, or a term I prefer—liberalism, decides how many slices are carved. The resulting tension between these two philosophies is natural to me. And played out in the context of democracy everyone’s interests can be addressed.  

*** 

This discourse is a snapshot in time. Political thought is dynamic. It will undoubtedly change more over the years I have left. The boy who first recognized the significance of politics and the man who continues to follow its importance will remain engaged by observing, reading, writing, and in other ways weighing in on political topics of the day. To me, doing so is more than just interesting, it’s fun!   

A reflection written during the Spring of 2019

I live in the hills of western New Hampshire.  

Rocky and forested it is a place of lakes, ponds, and rushing streams. Especially in the late winter and early spring. The hills of western New Hampshire are sparsely populated. Of the 3,000 plus square miles that make up this region there live around 200,000 people. We’re pressed up against the megalopolis, but not subsumed by it. At least not yet.   

Someone wise once said your paradise is where you choose to make it. I take this to mean one need not travel to all of the world’s glorified and hyped hot spots to find wonderland, but rather it can be right outside your door. Now I’m not sure I can call the hills of western New Hampshire Shangri-la—indeed I know I cannot—but I’m happy to call it home. The hills of western New Hampshire exemplify an intricate sense of place, one reaching to my youth and stimulating lifelong sensorial benchmarks along the way. I feel the hearthstone of these hills. 

It makes a difference to live in a place with distinguishing characteristics. It matters to discern and delight in the exceptional traits a place exhibits. To feel connected is to feel at home. To bond with the environment, its nature and its cadence can unite a person with an entity beyond oneself.  

The hills of western New Hampshire await personal attention. The relationship can be austere, but also cordial. To live here calls for stamina. Resilience is rewarded. Solitude awaits, ready for the asking. Becoming charmed is always a possibility.         

My granddaughter 

seven years old 

from Los Angeles 

visits the hills of western New Hampshire 

during winter 

eagerly anticipates northland climate 

it is novel and unique 

like her beloved movie, Frozen 

snow and ice and cold 

my expectation 

she would remain beside the warm woodstove 

did not happen 

dressed in seasonable garb provided by her grandmother 

winter coat, snow pants, boots, mittens, and warm hat 

she plays outside 

snow appeals 

cold does not intimidate 

air tastes fresher 

I am pleasantly surprised 

The comforting sense of place can happen almost anywhere. The wide plains of the heartland, the misty mountains of a northwest peninsula, the bustling streets of an eastern city and countless other settings become sources of visceral bonding. It depends on where you were raised. If that space is where an initial and sustained awareness of surroundings occurred, then the profound connection is made. Helpful too, is if a correlation becomes established between the comforts of life and the site where they were first sensed.  

For me this transpired in the Berkshire Hills of western Massachusetts. I was raised there. The rolling green hills morphing into splashes of October color and eventually yielding to snow encrustation afforded me a panoply of visual beauty and regularity that was annually anticipated and unconsciously respected. All of life’s dramas, joys, anxieties, and expectations materialized against the backdrop of this place. It was the way things were and the features of the place have always been with me. 

My current corner of the hills of western New Hampshire sits only about 160 miles northeast of where I rode my bike, played in the brook, and sledded as a boy. Given that both locations are fragments of the larger Appalachian mountain chain they are similar in appearance and feel.  

After raising children and constructing a career elsewhere in New Hampshire this geographic familiarity had an influence in driving my residential decision as I neared retirement. The appeal of the hills of western New Hampshire is that they remind me of where I grew up while permitting me to remain in a state I know well.  

Nostalgia has a way of playing a supporting role in the thoughts of an aging person. Memories percolate to the surface, long-held familiar feelings are triggered by prevailing stimuli, and lessons learned—or unlearned—meld into a reoccurring reckoning of what is and has been important. Linking location with its lasting peculiarities triggers a personal values clarification.    

Winter loses its firm grip  

clouds coat horizon to horizon 

light filters through robed evergreens and naked deciduous 

the lake, a white plain with ice out weeks away 

distant woodpecker taps rhythmically 

crow caws 

Winter stirs and ponders a morning stretch 

hilltops rounded by glacial activity  

eons of weathering 

cold nights, days above freezing 

sap should be running well 

dirty snow banks line muddy roads 

cool breeze  

urges hemlock boughs to sway 

nature’s pulse is apparent 

Be still 

align with subtle inflection 

discover  

refresh and ruminate with Nature  

offset modernity 

This is the New Year 

not some random day in early winter 

hope, rebirth, imagine new beginnings 

The sun breaks through 

illuminate granite hills 

throw shadows 

photons reflect off snow 

blinding  

the future feels imminent 

The hills of western New Hampshire, as much of the northern half of the northern hemisphere, was molded and configured by four repeated glaciations during the Pleistocene Epoch. The age began about 2.6 million years ago and ended a bit more than 10,000 years ago when the last of this series of glaciers finally receded to the north. These mammoth mile-thick masses of ice sliding across a granite surface left an impact. The resulting churn shaped the state’s current mountains, valleys, lake beds, and coastal plain. Cape Cod and Long Island to the south, really just alluvial deposits of moraine, in part consist of New Hampshire material plowed to those locations by the glaciers. 

In the western part of the state we are blessed with genteel hills and small mountains ranging in elevation from 1000 to 3000 feet above sea level. What strikes visitor and resident alike are large granite rocks once formed from ancient magma flows.  Scattered among this region are the many lakes and ponds that owe their idiosyncratic configurations to long ago glacial activity, which today draw both wildlife and people. The two largest of these gems being lakes called Sunapee and Newfound. The Connecticut River flowing southward carves a sharp boundary with our western neighbor Vermont. 

Much of these hills are forested with a mix of temperate broadleaf, conifers, and northern hardwoods. Large sturdy trees bespeckle much of the area. Old growth forests still persist in some remote spots. Outside our small yellow house, which sits within a wildwood stand, tower three large white oaks in a row. The middle and largest of these is estimated to be about two hundred years old. We are stewards of these gentle beasts committed to their welfare and longevity. The combined summer crown of these three sisters leave us feeling we live under a dome. The grand foliage laden boughs stretch and reach above us. As are the trees, we are rooted to this place where stagecoaches and drovers rumbled by transporting people and goods in an earlier America.  

Gray-haired man 

closely cut, clean shaven 

goes about his business in a taciturn manner 

not unlike many others of this place  

Appearance is often uniform 

worn denim pants 

high topped work boots, mink-oiled many times 

red plaid wool shirt 

khaki cap 

the visor’s edge beginning to show tattered wear 

Calloused hands molded from years of labor 

physical work 

accomplished masterfully with care and respect 

He doesn’t ask much of others 

self-reliance is valued  

and lived as much as possible 

he’s faithful 

to his wife, church, grown children,  

several grandchildren,  

the community 

Climbs slowly into his pickup 

to drive 3 miles home 

through hemlock woods 

and over the hill 

time to get evening’s wood in 

supper will be soon 

In-migration to New Hampshire has increased in recent years among people in their twenties and thirties. Good news for a state that is a graying state. Graying? Like the color of granite? Yes. New Hampshire sustains a population of old people. There are a lot of us. We are ranked third by age of population among all of the states. Only Maine and Vermont have older populations than New Hampshire’s. So, it’s good news if younger people want to start living here. We need the workforce. Low taxes, which New Hampshire has, may be good for business, but not having enough working-aged people is not good for business. 

The old-fashioned and traditional virtues of New Hampshire self-reliance, independence, and grit continue to be evident in the hills of western New Hampshire. From that culture springs an economy that is tied to the land, to history, and to a present-day macroeconomic transformation fueled by amplified globalization and advanced automation. 

Naturally, we might think of the kind of work done in these wooded hills as primarily involving lumbering, maple sugaring, landscaping, and farming. These are but a small slice of the area’s occupations despite their iconic imagery. Most employees work in less glamorous, but more financially fruitful pursuits that include healthcare, office administration, manufacturing, sales, and hospitality. To lesser extents workers earn a living performing in small businesses, education, technology/sciences, and construction. It’s a busy and largely prosperous rustic location. 

Statewide New Hampshire’s economy is quite robust, at least according to some key metrics. The state enjoys the second lowest unemployment rate (Bureau of Labor Statistics) and the lowest poverty rate in the nation (US Census Bureau). And we are continually in the top ten states ranked by both per capita and median household income (US Census Bureau). Also, while looking at the newest hot topic economic measurement known as the Gini Coefficient — a measurement of income and wealth inequality among individuals — New Hampshire has the third lowest level of income concentration in the country (US Census Bureau). Wealth is spread relatively evenly.  

Healthcare is a big employer in the hills of western New Hampshire. The state’s largest hospital is located here. Aging population and healthcare go together nicely. In fact, New Hampshire enjoys a ranking as the third healthiest state for older people in the U.S. (2019 New Hampshire Healthy Aging Data Report). Education, including higher education, employs many. This stimulates entrepreneurial enterprises. There is an outdoor ethic that pervades the area. Many residents relish being on trails, slopes, and lake fronts. This contributes to the health and wellbeing of people here. If you’re going to grow old in New Hampshire, appreciating the environment adds to the quality of life. Given how many elderly citizens choose to live in these hills we appear to be on the right path. 

Work tied to land 

shape, sculpt, move, knead earth 

with machines and hands 

sweat and toil 

brains and technology 

experience 

reading the land’s behavior 

align with its rhythm 

to create practical solutions 

nest in the embrace 

of this hardscrabble place 

He works the Bobcat with skill 

among strewn stones and boulders  

lift, carry, set rocks 

stair here 

wall there 

the shovel swivels fluidly 

to pry an elusive target 

arrange land anew 

The old stone wall is dismantled  

new bed installed 

stones reset 

strategically 

beautifully 

large stone support small stone 

tabletop finish 

400-foot run 

form and function  

exquisitely rendered   

Driving around the hills of western New Hampshire is a simple pleasure. The roads pass through valleys, follow stream beds, hug lake fronts, and traverse old main streets of small towns whose histories reach back two to three hundred years. Some towns are tony, many are not. For those of a certain age taking such a drive conjures feelings of nostalgia, scenes remembered but rarely recalled, from the viewpoint of a long-ago child sitting in the back of Chevy station wagon. 

I enjoy seeing the general stores, Mom & Pop diners, antique emporiums, barns in various stages of solvency, Colonials, New England frames, the ever-present woods, and stone walls, lots of them, that can be unearthed while winding along these old byways. It is estimated there are in excess of 200,000 miles of stone walls in New England. Western New Hampshire has its share of them. In general, large stones are from walls that once housed livestock. Small stones are an indicator of former garden walls. Stones were gathered by laborers and beasts of old, piled in a field, and used to create boundaries, enclosures, foundations, and mills. 

From the green at Dartmouth College with its late eighteenth/early nineteenth century ambiance to highpoints on the road exhibiting vistas of consecutive mountain ranges, each flaunting a different hue of blue, a random journey through these hills can bring enjoyment and contentment. Place matters. As do roots, history, and where one builds and lives a life. Many of us have a choice of where to be. For me it is in the hills of western New Hampshire.