Don’t Trust Me; Study What I Say

This post is going to be a bit different than many of my posts, but something that I very much want to emphasize:

Don’t trust me.

That seems like an odd thing to say, especially given my vocation and passion as a teacher. But it just because of that vocation and passion that I say it.

I’m not implying that I’m untrustworthy, obviously! So let me explain completely what I mean.

If you haven’t read it, yet, I began this project with a post (“Why On Earth Do We Need Another Blog?”) that reveals my reasoning and intent on a broad, and yet very personal level. There is an abundance of information out there; the Information Age is aptly named, or so it seems. Likewise, the more abundant a product, the more abundant is its counterfeit, in this case: disinformation. Or skewed information.

To have one more source of information and thought-provoking content in the current environment is almost like a drop in the lake saying, “hey, drink me, not that other drop over there!”

And that’s why I say don’t trust me. The reality is, I really do want you to trust me, but I understand something crucial: my credibility to the reader is only as good as their verification of what I say. So that’s ultimately what I want you do to: study what I say. Do your own research. See if I’m truly telling the truth, or if I am sound in my arguments.

For those who have studied the art of argumentation, you know that there are three major ways to argue, approaching the debate on logos, ethos or pathos.¹ Logos is the idea that an argument is logically and factually sound. Ethos refers to the credibility of the debater; do we trust them? As a constant student and teacher of the material I write about, I hope that I have some “ethos” in my articles. Pathos is an appeal to emotion. The most effective arguments have all three.

My goal with this project truly comes from a desire to dispense truth and genuine understanding. I want a strong logos and ethos to bolster what I say, but I am not a soap-box blogger (most of the time). Frankly, that might make me less popular than the Tomi Lahren’s of the information world, as human nature is generally more drawn to the pathos approach. (And that is not to say I ignore pathos, but that will come third of the three appeals.)

So study what I say. See if I am right. Do your own research. I want you to trust me, of course, but I want mostly to be a conduit for your own investigation. As a teacher, I know that my students will only really learn when they care about the learning and study it for themselves. That’s true for anyone (how many of us would have enjoyed the books we were assigned to read in school if they had not been an assignment?). What I care about is truth and learning, not about building my “brand” or making a name for myself. (Incidentally, the main reason this project took my name is because I struggled to find an effective alternative.)

If you find something to be awry or not correct, I want to correct it or re-think what I say, or engage you in courteous discussion about the disagreement. You can contact me at the “Contact Me” tab or, even better, private message me at the LCKeagy Facebook page.

Want to engage in discussion on matters related to these or similar topics? Join the LCKeagy Forum, a discussion group meant for just such courteous and productive debate.

Want to followup with your own study and research? Check out my Recommended Books and/or check out Liberty Classroom.com (subscribe for special discounts), and go to sources I don’t have listed and let me know if you find what I say to be off or untrue.

In the end, I hope this project is a helpful conduit of learning that both challenges you to think about things in perhaps a way you have not, or learn about things that are not otherwise the common repetition of the nightly news or the items crossing your Facebook news or Twitter feed. Learning and understanding what is true in a world of information, disinformation and confused information is the ultimate goal.

¹There is an abundance of material on these argumentative appeals; here is just one such source.

Race vs. Culture

Culture is different than race, and yet, the two are often confused.

Warning. I am about to enter politically incorrect territory. Ironically, it may even earn me the accusation, “racist” (which I’m not). But I have a very simple point to make, albeit it one that won’t win me any brownie points in today’s PC society, and one that I have not observed made virtually anywhere, let alone among the regular information sources or media.

Allow me to begin with a practical and personal qualifier.

First, let’s define racism and clarify what we mean by race. A google search turns up this definition of racism: “prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism directed against someone of a different race based on the belief that one’s own race is superior.” Race is often (although not always), especially in the United States, considered correlative to a person’s skin color, but the basics of race don’t preclude various differences among peoples of similar pigmentation, such as the historical Franks, Germans or Slavs of Europe, among whom differences in physical appearance were minimal.

At best, the idea of “race” is a loose description of a person’s biological heritage . At worst, race is a pathetically invented and gross distortion of biological heritage, whereby people with various amounts of pigment in their skin are “grouped” in a category of “race.” (I have written on the dangers of collectivism here.)

Race is a meaningless concept to me insofar as it has no impact on any conceptions I have about people. To have pre- or post-conceived ideas about someone, let alone condemn them as inferior, because of their skin color or their biological heritage is—forgive the unprofessional language here—stupid. Period. Still, that genuine racism seems entirely irrational and illogical (not to mention immoral) does not make it any less real, and I don’t intend to pretend otherwise. To do so would require ignoring historical and present (if overstated) realities. Many Nazis truly believed in the superiority of the “Aryan race.” Many Americans in U.S. history really did believe in the inferiority of the “African race.”

But I didn’t come to write a sermon on the topic. And while that is a rather long qualifier that some readers will think I simply put in there for the purpose of remaining politically correct (despite my initial warning), I really don’t mind ensuring that I am not misunderstood. My main point is not compromised.

And we’ll get to that now.

Culture is different than race. Culture is the vast array of traditions, norms and features of a society. And while cultures are vastly nuanced and complex, there are distinct differences between them. Given my own aversions about collectivist thinking, I do not believe that any individual should be viewed first and foremost for any cultural tendencies; this is as irrational and wrong as racism. They are an individual first and foremost.

And so long as we understand that norms and tendencies are laden with exceptions and must be held very loosely, we can still evaluate the aggregate. Cultures differ. It is common in “U.S. culture” (good luck trying to tie that down!) for people to ensure that aging parents are entrusted to an elderly care facility, whereas in “Central and South American cultures”, you will often find extended family, parents and grandparents all living under one roof. Whether this is the product of wealth disparity or other factors are entirely beside the point. I’m not playing anthropologist here, simply making an external observation that helps demonstrate cultural differences.

This is my key point: The problem is that many people confuse culture and race. Many people fail to recognize that a cultural critique is not racist simply because there is a correlation between people of that “race” and people who share that culture. The only way you make that connection is on the assumption that a person’s cultural norms are the result of their biological heritage or race. This has no scientific or logical defense.

How do you jump to the conclusion that a person is racist simply because they take issue with an aspect of a culture different from theirs?

Here’s an example that will get me slandered in politically correct groups. It is a cultural norm in Islam that men have complete political and personal authority. Women are not given legal representation, and in moral matters pertaining to Islam, many men are given the responsibility to stone their wives if there has been any real or alleged infidelity. Many men in Islamic culture are prone to this position of dominance over women (and this is not unique to this culture), a cultural difference that is currently causing cultural clashes in Europe. None of this has anything to do with race. And yet somebody out there is ready with the label “racist”.

But some will recognize my logic and go for “ready-to-use” insult #2: bigot. A bigot is defined as someone who “is obstinately or intolerantly devoted to his or her own opinions and prejudices” (Merriam-Webster). Still, how did you reach that conclusion? I made an observation regarding cultural tendencies in one specific area.

So, if cultural observations are often confused as racist remarks (a logical fallacy), and those who make such observations are often considered racists and/or bigots, then what can we draw from this?

First, prejudice, regardless of the reason, is a tragic and natural tendency of human nature. I’m not digging into the reasons for this here. Nevertheless, I believe adamantly that it is wrong for me (or anyone) to hold prejudice of any kind, whether I exalt myself and degrade others for my gender, my “race”, my intellect, my level of education, my culture, my skin color (or lack of it), et cetera. If I think less of Muslim men generally because of the cultural tendencies from which they come, that is the real issue, not the observation made. I believe equally adamantly that charity and compassion should always describe our view and action toward any individual.

Second, and as I have said before, recognize the individual first. Collectivist thinking is a logical fallacy, and the individual should be recognized for who he or she is, not for his or her biological heritage or their cultural tendencies.

Third, don’t get confused by the tendency to confuse cultural observations as racist remarks. Recognize the skewed reality that is perpetuated around us, sometimes by habit and sometimes deliberately. To call someone racist for a particular commentary on something that is cultural is, in and of itself, an empty argument that merely perpetuates the collectivist thinking that is so problematic in the first place.  It’s a non-argument.

Sadly, there is truth in the words of economist Thomas Sowell: “Some things are believed because they are demonstrably true, but other things are believed simply because they have been asserted repeatedly.”*

*Video link here.

 

 

 

 

I Am Not Partisan

I am not partisan. I am not a team player in politics.

To be partisan is to be loyal to a political team—usually a political party—regardless of whatever policies that team pursues or puts forth. Sure, most people who are very passionate followers of their party have their limits and will abandon their party in time if it strays too far. This is why you saw massive numbers of Democrats switching to the Republican Party in the late 1960s and early 1970s, preferring Richard Nixon to an heir of Lyndon Johnson. (Yes, this touches on where we’re going in my recently started series, “The History of Conservatism, Liberalism and Libertarianism.” Sign up for email notifications to find out when the next one in that series is published.)

Still, there are many people who clearly side with their party through much that might be otherwise considered contradictory positions. A clear sign of partisanship is when a person accuses the opposing party of doing something and then later praises or supports, or as is more often the case, makes excuses for their own party when it does the same.

We all see it. Especially in our political opponents and in the media. It’s something that is so blatantly obvious, yet so common. The message sent is, “Don’t accuse that guy of wrong; you’re on the same team!” Where we don’t see it so much is in ourselves.

After his notorious Stanford Prison Experiment in 1971, Psychology Professor Phillip Zimbardo said, “Most of the evil in the world comes about, not out of evil motives, but someone saying, ‘get with the program; be a team player.’” (More on that experiment here. Some caution advised for younger viewers due to the nature and results of the experiment.)

Human nature is prone to just such a mode of categorization. That is why it is so easy to assume a collectivist view of the world, a topic I addressed a couple posts ago (“The Reality of Collectivism”). That is why so many young Germans in Nazi Germany could end up committing the atrocities of the racial and biological hygiene programs and the full horror of the holocaust. Most of them, as young men, if given a chance to choose those actions from the comfort of their childhood homes, would be appalled at it.

And of course, that level of brutality, the psychology of which was specifically being studied in the Stanford Prison Experiment, is beyond the more “mild” accusations I am making. Still, it serves a good and sobering tool to demonstrate the dangers of this sort of thinking.

Fundamentally, there is no principle behind a partisanship that stays true to team rather than a constant standard. For those who say that there is, we often call that situational ethics, which, by definition, hardly fits any definition of principle. It is either okay to steal, or it is not. I cannot say the other team is wrong to steal, but there must be some good reason for it if mine does it.

I am not partisan. I do not adhere to a political team. My standards and beliefs are far and above any situational ethics, a concept I personally find repulsive, if I can be about as blunt as I have on this site. To the extend a political party aligns with my principles, those areas have my support. To the extent they violate my principles, those areas do not.

Many Democrats scoffed at George W. Bush when his military authorizations caused greater unrest in the Middle East, but were silent when the Obama administration pursued similar policies. Many Obama opponents among Republicans readily screamed about and scolded his healthcare legislation, but now support measures that keep most of it intact.

I would go so far as to call this cognitive, if not moral, dissonance. A harsher, yet fully applicable term: hypocrisy.

But there is nothing that can tie me to a team. I belief first and foremost in a Truth built upon the Word of God and His revelation. All else flows from there. I also support, as should be most obvious to my readers, liberty. (I lay out my case here: “On What Basis Liberty? Part 1“.) Not because I support all the activities protected by liberty, but because I believe that the power of the state is too great a danger to equip with the power to punish on its own ebbing and flowing standards of morality. (More on that in my post, “Church & State”.) Christians, of all people, should see the clear tide of acceptable opinion marginalizing and looking to correct or punish our “narrow-minded” views, and yet in many cases we are often as guilty of being team players as the next guy—just as ready with the excuses. (Want to know my recent thoughts on the Libertarian Party? Sign up for my email.)

To what extent will you violate principle and truth to stay true to your team—to your political party? To what extent will you make excuses for your favored candidate when he or she acts in opposition to what you know is true and right?

 

Thanksgiving in Perspective

hith-pilgrims-eMany of us were raised with a romanticized rendition of the story of the Pilgrims, a story that still brings back my childhood memories of Indians and Pilgrims placing fish in the ground with corn seeds, smiling and gathering around a large table with the cornucopia and all the trimmings that adorn Thanksgiving tables today. (There are many misconceptions about the “first thanksgiving” that I am not going to be addressing. A fellow blogger has done an excellent job of that here: “The First Thanksgiving?“)

And while it wasn’t the first thanksgiving celebration ever to be celebrated, and romanticized exaggerations aside, most of us haven’t the faintest idea what it would have been like. Finding themselves increasingly at odds with the Anglican clergy and legal system in England, the small group of Separatists had moved from Scrooby, England to Holland, where they found themselves remarkably accepted. Nevertheless, opportunities for making a living were somewhat limited, the lure of Dutch culture for very conservative English was a presumed threat from parents, and the outbreak of the 30 Years’ War threatened Holland with another invasion from Catholic Spain.

So they left again.

This time, to settle just south of the Dutch colony of New Amsterdam at the mouth of the Hudson River (modern-day New York). Still, the land they hoped to settle on was still within what was claimed as British Virginia.

When a plane takes us across the Atlantic in four to five hours, we can’t fathom weeks of sea travel amidst the tempestuous whims of the weather.

When our legal systems protect our expressions of faith, by and large, we can’t imagine what it was like to have to meet in secret for not sharing the common denominational association as the church prescribed by king and parliament.

When we drive five minutes to pick up as much food as we can eat—and then some—for any meal, let alone Thanksgiving, we have no hope of empathy with those who only ate what they themselves planted, nurtured and harvested.

When we can “bump up the heat” because we’re uncomfortably cold at 70 degrees Fahrenheit, there is not a chance that we can put ourselves in the shoes of those who lived exposed to the cold and knew that it may well take their lives.

When we can run to the clinic for a quick diagnosis and cure, lost to our memory is a time when a simple flu could just as likely kill as not.

In 1620, 102 Pilgrims landed in what would later become Massachusetts, five-hundred miles off-course, in land not particularly claimed by anyone. Given poor conditions, they couldn’t sail right up the coast a little ways to New Amsterdam for supplies.

That first winter, 45 people died.

At your family gathering this Thanksgiving, imagine half dead in 6 months. I apologize for the morbidity, but I am guessing you can’t. I can’t. Or, at least, I won’t.

So maybe instead of that disheartening image, understand that we are far more blessed than we can ever imagine. We have a standard of living that far exceeds any other known to any other group—poor, middle class or rich—in the history of the world.

The Pilgrims understood thankfulness. Do we?the_first_thanksgiving_cph-3g04961

A series of studies published in what has been known as the Happiness Literature conducted in recent years shows something that might otherwise be considered common sense: that people become accustomed to their standard of living, and that becomes a baseline for expectation. In essence: we become accustomed to what we have, and take it profoundly for granted.

So how can we be thankful? It has to do with expectations.

Thankfulness can only be truly derived from accurate expectations and accurate perspective. If I expect to be fed well on Thanksgiving Day, my thankfulness for that meal will be nominal. All the more if I expect it will be provided to me because I deserve it.

True thankfulness understands our blessings in perspective.

Much-needed perspective.

In December of 1621, Edward Winslow was able to write, “by the goodness of God, we are so far from want….” Ninety natives joined the Pilgrims for three days of feasting. Almost every single person there had lost someone–more probably several–they loved in the previous year. And yet, they were thankful. Let me rephrase: therefore, they were thankful. They understood the true blessing of what they had.

cornucopiaDo we?

Addendum: Let me make one more observation, if I may. Thankfulness reveals more about a person’s character than many other expressions or attitudes. Gratefulness is an attitude of maturity.

May you and yours have a blessed and thoughtful Thanksgiving.

(Don’t have time to read it? Enjoy the audio below. And please forgive small hiccups; this is my first time to record a post.)