Donald trump, in his announcement of his presidential candidacy, promised that if elected he would curb democracy: allowing only paper ballots, only one day to vote, etc. However in reality he can’t actually do these things because the constitution mandates that our election system must be regulated and controlled at the state level (Article I, Section 4, Clause 1). In this way a dose of anarchy is baked into our system, since states are free to design their own unique and esoteric election systems which are beyond the reach of the president/congress (and therefore the national electorate), who are all prevented (or at least strongly discouraged) from creating a single national election system.
(Note: the congress does have the authority to make general rules governing national elections, even if those rules occasionally over-ride state law. For example, congress has established a single election day on which the whole country votes for national candidates, and congress has also limited the amount that individuals can donate to candidates. However, traditionally the power to design and implement an election system within each state has been vested in the states themselves, and congress rarely intervenes. So long as a state’s election system is in line with its own state constitution and the national constitution – especially the 14th Amendment, which dictates that no state law shall deprive a citizen of his right to vote without due process of law – the congress and the Supreme Court generally do not get involved. In this way states are, for the most part, free to do as they please).
This constitutional rule that states may design their own election systems can only be amended via the laborious amendment process, not by the decree of the president, nor by a vote in congress. Though a law passed by congress could establish certain national voting rules, congress would be loath to overturn via legislation the various voting systems of all the states at once, unless they had very strong reason for doing so, since a multitude of lawsuits (not to mention massive political fall-out) would likely follow if congress attempted to mettle with so many varied and wide-spread systems in one fell swoop. This would be especially true if the congress was clearly doing so for political reasons, such as to make it more difficult for a given political party’s constituents to cast votes. Such behavior would draw the wrath of the states, the press, and likely the Supreme Court, who has ruled in the past that neither the states nor the congress may dictate election outcomes via legislation. Therefore Trump will very likely be unable to establish new national voting rules, even if a national majority of voters support his initiative. It seems this dose of anarchy in our election systems – the power of states to make their own election rules – is itself a limit on democracy since it deprives the national electorate the power to establish a single system.
What is ironic about this is that this check on democracy also preserves our democracy! For if the people lawfully elect a wannabe tyrant who promises to overturn the election, and a majority of the people support that effort, only this check on the people’s power will preserve the very democracy that elected the tyrant. The constitution blocks the grass roots and democratic movement to limit democracy itself. Therefore the constitution, by blocking one kind of democracy, preserves the franchise as a whole.
Any who call for unbridled national democracy should remember this example (and the example of the ancient Athenian democracy, whose people voted for the war that brought on their own destruction): too much democracy opens the way for a charismatic leader – who has fully captivated the minds and captured the love of his people – to sweep away limits on his own power, convince the people to vote for war, or otherwise destroy or suppress pieces of the government and culture that he and his constituency despise. If it wasn’t for this limit on the majority’s power, Trump-supporters (or any faction for that matter), assuming they constituted a slim majority of the electorate, could simply vote to disable democracy itself by creating a national voting system that forever entrenches their own power.
So I guess sometimes we need to limit democracy to save it? Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that democracy in this instance is “scattered” rather than limited, since at the state level democratically-elected representatives can change that state’s election system as the people dictate. Though while the democracy may be scattered, the rules which govern it are centralized in the constitution, and are damn-near impossible to change, regardless of how a majority of the national electorate might feel about those rules. So we scatter the democracy in order to protect it from itself, and set the rules which govern that democracy beyond the reach of voters (which does in the end mean that democracy is limited). I have to ponder this more.
For now I’ll end with this thought: it’s so interesting how the constitution can at the same moment be a check on the national government’s power (thereby guarding the people from tyrants who hate democracy) and a check on the national electorate as a voting body (thereby guarding the people from the “tyranny of the majority,” which may seek to entrench its own power by suspending democracy or severely limiting access to it). What a clever document.
Why? Well that’s a good question. Let me come back to that.
My ultimate goal is this: I want to do something about climate change. How can becoming an expert on Marxism help fight the climate battle? I’m not exactly sure, but that’s what I hope to find out.
First let me talk for a moment about climate change. It isn’t like the other political issues of our time. Sure when most media figures talk about gun control, abortion, voting rights, minimum wage laws, free trade, etc., they act as if the world itself hangs in the balance. But climate change stands above all those other issues. It is a real-life bona fide existential threat to humankind. When I picture in my mind the tribulation my children and grandchildren will face because of climate change, and the ambivalent responses our so-called leaders tend to offer toward addressing the crisis, I’m left feeling empty inside. The sense of frustration, impotence, and hopelessness are intense, I can hardly bear to engage with the issue whatsoever. Climate change is the reason I gave up watching cable news a few years ago; I simply can’t stomach to watch politicians and media outlets obsess about small-ball issues while ignoring or down-playing the actual looming threat that is staring us directly in our faces.
There are many reasons why politicians and corporate media outlets choose to ignore or downplay climate change, or pretend it isn’t caused by human activity, or cast doubts upon climate science itself as a field of study, but I will not go into that here. The point is that I want to do something about climate change. I want to contribute any way I can.
But how?
It just isn’t possible for me to change jobs and start working at a climate-focused non-profit, at least not right now. We have two young children who need our love, time, attention – and our financial stability. Our son Charlie has leukemia, so we need a good healthcare plan and a steady enough income to pay hospital bills. The point is that I can’t simply leave my job and go work for some organization that studies carbon capture technology. I have people who depend on me, so my life must maintain a certain level of stability for their sake. I won’t be switching careers just yet.
I’m also not a scientist. I do not have the necessary knowledge or credentials to work as a climate researcher. I would love to help advance the crucial research efforts that are taking place on the frontier of climate science, but that kind of research is not my strong suit. So I won’t be joining the army of citizen scientists who are seeking some kind of scientific solution to this problem.
And If I am being completely honest, I’m probably also not cut out to play an active role in a climate-focused political party either. Maybe it’s because I just don’t do particularly well with committee politics. Put me in a situation where I’m a member of a committee and we need to discuss and decide on an important issue, and I completely lose my mojo. Maybe I’m a bit too outspoken and tactless when debates gets started, which is not a helpful trait if one is trying to build up a fledgling political party (or trying to talk politics with friends). Or it could be that I have problems with authority; this has been suggested at various times in my life. So I’m not sure entering into party politics is the right path for me. I would still like to join a climate-focused party, but I’d prefer a behind-the-scenes role.
So what the heck can I do to help? How can a guy with no science background or political acumen, possessing very little free time or spending money, contribute to the most critical scientific and political problem facing mankind? I had to turn this problem over in my mind for a long while. What I came up with is this: I can write.
Maybe by writing I can be of some use. But what will I write about? Well I’m not sure about that yet either. I’ve never been especially serious about writing, though I’ve always known I have a certain knack for it. Thus far I’ve mostly only written about music composition. But I feel an intense urge to write something, anything, that might help with this cause. The motivation is there, so maybe that’s how I can play my small part, how I can help move the ball down the field.
Ultimately what I want to write about is not science but philosophy, political philosophy to be exact. Political philosophers study how people solve big problems, and sometimes they develop potential (or even groundbreaking) solutions to those problems. Climate change is the biggest problem we (our species) may ever face, so studying how our species can best respond to the crisis seems a fitting use of my time. Perhaps through philosophy I can help develop some workable solutions, collaborate with others on larger projects, find a suitable role for myself in a climate-focused party, and make some kind of impact. It’s a long shot I know, but it’s better than where I’ve been up to now: frustrated to such an extent at my inability to help in any way, that extreme apathy is my only weapon against despair.
I’ve chosen Marxism as my starting point. Marxism is a philosophical tradition that focuses on critiquing systems that are unjust, exploitative, and oppressive. It rips the mask off and reveals all the layers of rot lying beneath the surface, all the contradictions and lies. It also proposes (sometimes revolutionary) solutions to these problems; it is not a tradition that supports empty theorizing, but instead it seeks to pair theory with actual practice. In other words, Marxism takes a stab at understanding and solving big problems. So I will start there, and see what it has to offer. I’m not sure whether the solutions Marxism proposes will be worth a damn in the climate fight, but as I said it’s a starting place.
I am no expert in Marxism, so I will have to start from scratch. This is going to mean an intense course of study, and hopefully a lot of writing as I process these new ideas (new to me anyways). I genuinely wish to discover what concepts/philosophies/worldviews/lenses exist in the Marxist tradition, and whether any of them can actually be put to good use solving the climate crisis in the real world. And while there is a relatively new thread of Marxist thought that specifically examines the intersection of Marxism and environmentalism (see as an example: Organic Marxism – An Alternative to Capitalism and Ecological Catastrophe by Philip Clayton and Justin Heinzekehr), I will not start my course of study with environmental Marxism. I will start instead with Karl Marx’s own writings, and from there I will branch out into the writings of his predecessors and peers, and then onto the many diverse writers who took Marx’s worldview and extended it in so many directions. Along the way I will also read critiques of Marx and Marxism, as well as writers from other philosophical traditions who shared their views on Marxism, and whatever other angles I haven’t thought of yet. I’m looking to dive deep into this tradition, and see if I come out a changed man on the other side.
I am not starting this endeavor as a Marxist. Though my political leanings have always been on the left, I do not at this time call myself a Marxist, nor do I exactly understand what that even means. Can one be a Marxist if he simply concurs with Marx’s critique of capitalism? Or does one also have to believe in Marx’s vision of a future communist utopia to call oneself Marxist? For that matter, what did Marx really say about the future? Did he really advocate for a “dictatorship of the proletariat,” or was that just something Lenin added in? Did Marx actually believe that we could usher in communism via a worldwide revolution, or was that more of a metaphor for long-term change? How much of Marxism is just pure critique of the status quo, and how much consists of potential solutions to our problems? I want to know what this tradition has to offer a sick, sad world on the brink of ecological collapse. If there is anything useful in there, I want to learn it.
I also plan to separate out the parts of the tradition that are beyond saving: hopelessly outdated analyses, advocacy of programs for which the destructive or dangerous results far out-weigh potential benefits, one-sided or fallacious or propagandistic philosophical reasoning, and critique of a long-past world whose relevance to our own has faded beyond usefulness. One could say I am hunting for a “workable” Marxism, a “realistic” Marxism, one with real applicability in the modern world, shed of its darker or utopian elements. I seek in Marxism a tool that can be harnessed to bring beneficial change. I’m not sure at this time how much of this mission is possible. Critics tell me that it isn’t at all possible. It seems that most conservative (and many liberal) pundits want me to believe that 1) Marxism is evil and dangerous, 2) it will necessarily lead to the destruction of freedom, democracy, our children, religion, America, everything we hold dear, etc., and 3) it is also hopelessly irrelevant, a product of the 19th century that belongs in the dustbin of history. But listening to those guys – those corporate pundits whose large paychecks depend on their ability to endlessly and relentlessly flog Marxism – I get the impression they are really saying “whatever you do, don’t look over there! Don’t question capitalism. The status quo is perfect. Don’t look behind the curtain!” Well I intend to take a peek.
I recognize that Marxism has a checkered past. This philosophical/economic system has been blamed for many epic historical catastrophes, including genocides and totalitarianisms. I intend to discover exactly how the writings of Karl Marx are linked across the generations to Stalinism. I am going to learn in what ways those views were distorted or adapted by myriad thinkers and politicians and polemicists along the way. I want to examine the good and the bad of this tradition, with the intention of cutting out the bad parts and salvaging only what is useful. Are there parts of the Marxist philosophical framework that differ wildly from the dystopian Stalinist nightmare many Americans picture when they think about Marxism, or is totalitarianism the inevitable result of Marxism? Can we have Marxism without secret police, without gulags, without severe limitations on personal freedoms? For that matter, can we have Marxism without revolution, without violence? Based on what I’ve read so far, Marxist scholars have many disagreements on these questions.
Though many Americans likely picture Stalin as the timeless symbol of Marxism, in reality Stalinism is but one thin branch of the enormous Marxist tree. At this early stage in my studies I can already conclude that there is no longer just “one Marxism,” but many. During the past 150 years, a wide range of Marxist scholars and authors have weighed in on this tradition, each adding his or her own unique spin, each adapting or modernizing the tradition to meet the realities of the author’s time, each taking it in a new and exciting direction. In fact Marxism has become like a huge cave with countless labyrinthine tunnels; I plan to explore these tunnels and see where they lead (or where they dead-end). Of course not only Marxists have weighed in on Marxism; moral philosophers, feminists, economists, political scientists, and legal scholars have all explored how Marxism can weave and intertwine with these various disciplines. On top of that, a handful of countries have attempted to implement Marxist programs, and each time the result has been that Marxism combines with the culture of that country and comes away changed (and also Marxism changes the culture of the country as well). To make the tradition even more complex, modern Marxist organizations and parties are each contributing their own novel ingredients to the stew.
Despite all this vibrancy and diversity of thought, Marxism has been declared a dead tradition countless times (especially after the fall of the Soviet Union). Yet the tradition continues to attract talented writers and intellectuals to this day. I suspect there is something of monumental value here, and I intend to seek it out – and to disregard all that is toxic. So I’m aiming for that workable form of Marxism. And if that turns out not to exist (or if it only exists in such a corrupted form that it decays quickly or does more harm than good), then at least I’ll know that. But I’m hoping it exists! Above all, I hope that the collected wisdom of the Marxist tradition can actually help us fix our big problems.
This is only my first step toward becoming a political philosopher; Marxism is just my starting place. I’m uncertain where this study will lead me, but I intend to go as deep into it as I can. I intend to take it seriously. And of course I will always keep in mind my over-arching long-term goal: to work on climate change. But I still need to start somewhere. This starting point will allow me to work on my research/writing chops, build up a kind of foundational knowledge that will make it easier to jump into other areas of study later, and perhaps even uncover unforeseen truths that will help me build a philosophical system of my very own someday.
This graphic lays out the steps of my very rough “how I will help fight climate change” plan:
Obviously there are a lot of gaps in there. I’ll work on filling those in as I go. You may also notice that “enroll in a university” is not currently listed on there. Let me just say that I would love to pursue a higher degree in political philosophy. If I get the opportunity to do so, I will jump at it. However at this moment in my life that just isn’t feasible. I have neither the time nor the money to become an academic – though becoming an academic is my secret dream. Maybe when my kids are older I will make the jump, a step which is probably crucial if I actually wish to accomplish my goals. Not only would I learn so much from having peers and teachers (rather than studying alone), but the academic life would also give me the opportunity to build networks of friends and colleagues, professors and mentors, publishers and journals contributors. If I ever wish to see my work published outside of this website, those connections will be critical. Not to mention that the academic life gives one the opportunity to shine, if one sees fit to take up the challenge. There are endless research opportunities, access to the best libraries in the world, and colleagues with whom to collaborate on writing projects and new ideas; in other words universities offer a support network for those who wish to take their studies seriously, and a platform for those who want to break new ground. I believe I could rise to that occasion if given the opportunity, but that is for another day.
You may also wish to know why I don’t simply skip all the rigamarole and get straight to helping. Why not simply start writing about climate change right now, instead of going through all those extra steps? Why wait!
My answer is: I don’t want to just write about climate change. I don’t want to be a pundit, simply commenting on the here and now (as if I could even do that properly without research). I want to develop solutions! But I don’t feel ready to do that yet; I don’t feel like I know enough. I don’t know what’s possible or what’s been tried. I don’t have foundational knowledge on my topic – not the science of climate change, nor the political philosophies that might address it. If I hastily crank out a bunch of essays right now without doing any research, they will be full of factual or logical errors. They would certainly demonstrate my ignorance and lack of erudition on my topic, but probably would not accomplish much more than that. No, I need to do some studying first. I need to learn how to think and write and argue like a philosopher.
So onto Marx then!
Selected Writings by Marx and Engels
“On the Jewish Question” by Karl Marx
Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844 by Karl Marx
The German Ideology by Karl Max and Friedrich Engels
Capital (3 vols.) by Karl Marx
Manifesto of the Communist Party by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels
The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte by Karl Marx
Critique of the Gotha Program by Karl Marx
Socialism: Utopian and Scientific by Friedrich Engels
Anti-Dühring by Friedrich Engels
Revolution and Counter Revolution by Friedrich Engels
Some areas I plan to explore:
Marx’s general contributions to philosophical/political thought
Marxism and Rights/Liberty
Marxism and Materialism
Marxism and Humanism
Marxism’s views on parliamentarism (using the state apparatus to create change)
Marxism’s different views on revolution
Marxism and Moral Philosophy
Marxism and Religion
Marxism and Political Violence
Marxism vs. Anarchism
Marxism and Science (Marxism is sometimes called a science)
Marxism and Grand Prophesies about the Future
Marxism and Human Nature
Marxism and Democracy
Marxism and the Dialectic
Criticism of Marxism
Distortions of Marx’s Ideas (i.e. how the ideas changed over time)
Marxism and its application in various countries
Marxism today (current Marxist movements/groups/parties and the arguments/tactics they employ)
Marxism and Environmentalism
I’m not particularly interested in writing an exhaustive study of how Karl Marx discussed certain themes or issues. I’m not after finding the ultimate orthodox Marxism. Instead I want to study the tradition, which outlived Marx and changed in countless ways as later scholars and thinkers expanded the tradition. The tradition lives on to this day, and changes every time a new writer picks it up. This allows the tradition to change with the times, and adapt to humankind’s changing needs. It’s a living tradition.
Here are some of the different thinkers and schools of thought I plan to study:
Classical Marxists: Marx, Engels, Karl Kautsky, Rosa Luxembourg
Social democrats and reformists: Bebel, Liebknecht, Eduard Bernstein, Lasalle
Leninists and Trotskyists: Lenin, Trotsky (perhaps also Alex Callinicos, Perry Anderson, Hal Draper – not sure if these guys would actually call themselves Leninists).
Western Marxists: Lukacs, Antonio Gramsci, Karl Korsch, Ernst Bloch. Sometimes included: Bertolt Brecht, Wilhelm Reich, Erich Fromm, Alfred Sohn-Rethel
Frankfurt School: Horkheimer, Marcuse, Habermas, Adorno, Leo Lowenthal, Walter Benjamin, Alfred Schmidt
French Hegelians: Henri Lefebvre, Lucien Goldmann
Existentialist Marxists: Sartre, Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Simone de Beauvoir
Anti humanist, anti-Hegelian Marxists: Althusser, Galvano Della Volpe
Autonomist Marxists: Tony Negri, Harry Cleaver, Michael Hardt, John Holloway
Analytical Marxists (anti-dialectic): GA Cohen, Jon Elster, Adam Przeworski, John Roemer, Robert Brenner
English Marxists: Maurice Dobb, Christopher Caudwell, Maurice Cornforth, Raymond Williams
Neo-Marxists (Post-Marxists): Samuel Bowles, Herbert Gintis
Marxist historians: Christopher Hill, Eric Hobsbawm
Marxist writers working today: Philip Clayton, Justin Heinzekehr, Zizek, and many many more.
Critics of Marx: Leszek Kolakowski, Thomas Sowell, Friedrich Hayek, Ludwig Von Mises, and many many more.
This endeavor may not actually lead anywhere useful, but it feels good to try something. It feels right to learn and better myself and expand my mind, even if climate change still kills us all in the end. But who knows, maybe I’ll learn something that makes a difference to someone somewhere. All I can do is try.
The Future of Freedom: Illiberal Democracy at Home and Abroad by Fareed Zakaria
Zakaria’s full-throated defense of Madisonian democracy is still, 20 years later, surprisingly prescient and powerfully persuasive. He argues with great strength and cleverness that, though democracy is a good thing (and though we may worship it in the West), too much democracy makes governments dysfunctional, economies inefficient, and politics frustrating. He claims that in America we have democratized to such an extreme degree, that we’ve created a situation where our congressional leaders pander to public opinion rather than making difficult choices, where our outdated and voluminous tax code and byzantine subsidy system can never be reformed because of the power of lobbyists and special interest groups to sway legislation, where we have become convinced that the average citizen (though he doesn’t trust himself to fill out his own tax forms or write his own will) is qualified to go to Washington as a senator and write our laws. Along the way Zakaria predicts, in so many words, the rise of Trumpian billionaire-worshipping celebrity populism, the degradation of our corporate media, and the ever-worsening political gridlock in the congress. His solution is a return to elitist democracy (rather than the populist democracy gaining popularity on the right and left today), a democracy where the citizens delegate law-making and regulatory authority to undemocratic but highly qualified bodies that can steer our country in the right direction without having to contend with the whims of a fickle public. He wants the experts to rule, and for limits to be placed on the power of the majority (just as James Madison argued for), but simultaneously the civil liberties of the citizenry must be set in stone. In other words, the limits should be on democracy, not on individual liberty. He points to the Supreme Court and the Federal Reserve as examples of elitist bodies that get it right more times than not, and calls for us to turn away from the sloppy sort of direct democracy that not only caused the downfall of Ancient Athens but is also responsible for the complete dysfunction of California’s own legislature. So in a sense, he wishes for the return of the smoke-filled room where important decisions get made. Zakaria is very wise, for though he lays this argument out in great detail, he does take time to acknowledge that the reason so many people have turned away from elitist democracy in recent years is because the elitists and experts, back during a time when people had more faith in leaders and institutions, caused so much irreparable harm through their poor decisions (see: Vietnam War). I was very pleased with this lovely book, so full of mind-expanding perspectives and deep research, and the ability to question his own arguments (something I consider crucial in any philosophical text). I am not entirely convinced yet that elitism is better or worse than democratization, nor do I agree with his main thesis that what ails America is TOO MUCH democracy (it often seems as if we are actually an oligarchy, or a democracy in name only). What Zakaria calls democratization, I call corporate takeover of our politics and culture… But this book still gave me much to think about.
November 2021
Debating Democracy by Bruce Miroff, Raymond Seidelman, and Todd Swanstrom
I loved reading this book. Every chapter addresses a particular question about democracy: is elite democracy better than popular democracy, should the federal government or the states control public policy, is the modern media beneficial or harmful to democracy, etc. Then for each issue, the editors place two competing essays side by side, each addressing the issue at hand and offering up an answer, both equally compelling and well-argued. I found my self impressed over and over with the arguments contained in the book. I really gained some new perspectives, and have been forced to reexamine some of my preconceived notions about democracy. This book makes me want to write about democracy.
Great Courses: The Big Questions of Philosophy by David Kyle Johnson
This is a fun and challenging course. While the main content is the “big questions” from philosophy (Is God real? How do we know we exist? Is true knowledge possible? Is there such a thing as objective moral laws? What is the most ethical type of government? etc), I think this course is actually about something else: how to make compelling logical arguments that can withstand scrutiny, and how to find flaws in philosophical/political arguments that rob the arguments of their power. For every lecture, the professor lays out major arguments that have been made throughout the history of philosophy by many of the greatest minds, then he systematically pokes holes in them all. Of course this is the nature of philosophy: there are no right answers to these unanswerable questions. So instead of seeking an absolute truth, the real purpose of studying these issues is two-fold: 1) get as close to the truth as we possibly can while making sure we aren’t being misled by faulty logic, and 2) learn how to craft one’s own arguments in such a way that they can withstand scrutiny. In other words, this course taught me how to look more carefully at philosophy and debate, to sniff out the logical fallacies, and thereby refine my own belief systems so I never fall into the same traps as past thinkers. And if I do hit those traps, I need to recognize it and adapt my thinking to make it as logical and correct as possible. This course is about how to reason carefully, which is a skill with endless applicability in the real world, whether or not one cares whether God’s existence can be proved or which type of government is the most ethical.
October 2021
After Virtue by Alasdair MacIntyre
This author argues that in our modern world the state of morality is in disarray. This is because one can never use reason to determine the right answer to moral questions, yet people often speak as if there are right and wrong answers to moral questions. Example: if a person opposes abortion because she believes all lives are sacred (and the fetus, being alive, is therefore sacred), while another person supports abortion rights because she believes strongly in the principle of liberty (so therefore the pregnant woman must possess the right to do as she pleases with her own body), there is no logical argument anyone can make that proves one of these women is correct and the other is wrong. One cannot use reason to prove that liberty supersedes the sanctity of an unborn life or vice versa; in the end it just comes down to personal preference. Yet in an abortion debate, all the different sides will speak as if their particular and unique sense of morality is the only absolute correct way of thinking. And in an age where there are so many different philosophies, religions, political perspectives, cultures, ideologies, and world views to choose from, and many of them offer compelling answers to the moral quandaries of our time, we find ourselves living in a world there everyone thinks he/she has found the correct answer, but in truth there isn’t one. If, when trying to solve a moral problem, multiple contradictory points of view are all equally valid, it makes the problem at hand even more intractable. Even historians, sociologists, philosophers, and economists ultimately fall back on their own personal preferences and biases when forming their conclusions and predictions, masking their personal opinions under a veneer of expert credibility. It seems this all leads to a bad case of moral relativism. The author has a solution in mind to this sticky problem: a deep reexamination of Aristotelian virtue ethics, and a prescription that we all join small communities or clubs where we can work with other humans to accomplish agreed-upon goals. While Aristotle’s ethics can definitively teach individuals how to live full and happy lives, I remain unconvinced that this solution even begins to solve the macro problem of moral relativism that pervades modern societies. Our world faces existential problems, so telling people simply to go find happiness in their individual lives smacks of nihilism… though I fall into this same moral relativism/nihilism trap as well (it’s not like I have a solution to climate change), and when I do I can at least find comfort in strategies that allow me to flourish in my own life. Maybe that’s the best most of us can do in the face of existential crises: join our little communities, focus on individual virtues, and work hard to construct happy lives, even in the face of the enormous intractable problems facing mankind. Or maybe I’ve just been super cucked by our individualist culture into thinking that humans are incapable of solving big problems, and all I’m left with is the selfish desire to live my own best life while I can. More to explore there. Anyways this book was my first deep dive into moral philosophy, and I’m glad I went in, though at times the writing meandered like a lazy river. This author’s knowledge of ethical philosophy is unimpeachable, and he makes me want to plunge even deeper into this rich intellectual tradition.
The Bhagavad Gita (translated by Eknath Easwaran)
The philosophy contained in this ancient little book is profound, elegant, and so very useful. It speaks right to the real challenges we all face in real life, and arms the reader with tools not only to weather whatever storms life may bring, but also to walk away with one’s soul and spirit intact. In other words, it’s basically a handbook on how to live a happy and fulfilled life, even when faced with tragedies or ethical quandaries or challenging situations where no matter which choice you make you (or someone you care about) will suffer a loss. One can use this book as a tool to find his or her own unique purpose in life, to find meaning in each day and through the decades. It was also Gandhi’s favorite book! I’ve written more about what I learned from the Bhagavad Gita here: https://www.senigaglia.com/timeless-lessons/
September 2021
Philosophy 101 by Paul Kleinman
I really enjoyed this charming little survey of philosophy! The book is not in chronological order, so the authors are free to jump from Bertrand Russell to Aristotle to moral relativism to ethics to Jean-Jacques Rousseau to the Prisoner’s Dilemma. The way the author leads the reader from topic to topic is really creative way to present this material. The author especially excelled whenever he discussed language. Great book to pick up and put down over the course of many months.
The Great Courses: Moral Decision Making: How to Approach Everyday Ethics by Clancy Martin
Each episode of this series deals with a moral question we all face in daily life, such as “am I morally obligated to give to charity?” and “Is it ever ok to lie?”. The professor, Clancy Martin, is a real hoot! I really appreciate the insight, honesty, and personal touch he brings to each lecture. He not only dives into what history’s great thinkers wrote about ethics, but he also shares about his own personal tragedies, his alcoholism, his divorces, hard lessons he’s learned in life, and choices he’s made that he’s not proud of. Just a quick example of this honesty: here’s an article he wrote about all the times he’s been arrested for being drunk in public. The professor’s style and honesty really made this course for me. The only limitation was that sometimes the author’s own personal philosophies steered the conversation, and that limited the breadth of the teaching. For example, in the episode that discussed whether private property as a concept is ethical, he did not really explore the thinkers who have argued that it is not (such as Karl Marx). The professor seemed to operate from an assumption that it is ethical, and it’s only a matter of figuring out whether it is only somewhat or very ethical. But really, I still recommend this one. I felt a genuine connection with this guy.
State and Revolution by Vladimir Lenin
The State and Revolution is perhaps Vladimir Lenin’s most influential piece of writing. The book is many things: a scathing polemic directed against Lenin’s political adversaries, a stirring collection of prophesies and predictions about the socialist revolution to come, a call to arms for workers to unite and rise up, and a philosophical treatise that argues for the violent overthrow of the capitalist state. There is much I disagree with in this text, and I hope to write a proper critique sometime soon.
August 2021
On Violence by Hannah Arendt
This short book was supposed to be a philosophical deep dive into the concept of violence: how and why humans use it, its justifications, how to define it, what proper role – if any – it should play in human affairs, its morality, the psychological effect it has on those involved in violent acts, etc. However the book was simply too brief to accomplish all that, and the author got too caught up in seemingly minor tangents that carried outsize importance during the time the book was written (e.g. the student uprisings of the late 1960s), but today seem laughably unimportant in comparison to other more momentous historical events that could have been analyzed instead. I wish she had taken the task at hand more seriously, because I genuinely want to read such a study on violence, and I’d love to read normative analysis of the role violence should or should not play in future revolutions. Instead, I think this essay devolves into simple commentary on the events of her day, which of course prevents this from being any kind of timeless philosophical tract.
The Great Courses: Quest for Meaning: Values, Ethics, and the Modern Experience by Robert H. Kane
This course is really about how our modern, technologically advanced, capitalist, liberal, individualist, democratic society has created a pandemic of moral relativism. In other words, people no longer know what to believe, in terms of belief systems, morals, and even basic facts. It may have been easier for people to make up their minds in ancient and medieval times, when societies weren’t so pluralistic, and entities like the church or monarchy were able to effectively control public opinion and morals. But today there are oh so many opinions available in our free society – religious, political, ethical, economic, scientific, cultural – that it can be difficult for thinking people to take a firm stance, or to know which outlook is the most valid. Should I be a Marxist, a Christian, a liberal, a fascist, a Hindu, a rugged individualist, a communitarian, a nihilist, an incrementalist, or one of the other infinite options? How to choose?? This professor does a fine job laying out the arguments for and against moral relativism, as well as what philosophers have thought about freedom, ethics, democracy, and public morality, and he does so with a charming Boston accent and a lot of cute jokes thrown in. At times sadly I think this course is a bit dated, caught up in a that “late nineties, pre-9/11, pre-climate disaster, post-fall of the Soviet Union” fad of believing there was a growing worldwide “overlapping consensus” that liberal capitalism was the best possible solution to the world’s ills. I think, if that consensus did at one time exist, it is badly fracturing. The professor also confidently states that Marxism is dead, but he doesn’t explain whether he is speaking about Marx’s prescient critique of capitalism, or Marx’s more utopian predictions about the future. I got the impression the professor dismissed Marx when it was trendy to do so, without really wrestling with Marx’s class-focused lens, nor with the impending disasters wrought by capitalism. Really, the professor’s own opinions (classical liberal, opposed to moral relativism, believer in capitalism) shined through just a hair too frequently, and made this piece a class for its time (the 90s), rather than a timeless classic.
July 2021
The Great Courses: Meaning of Life: Perspectives from the World’s Great Intellectual Traditions by Jay L. Garfield
I entered this course with a mild interest in philosophy, and left it with a profound hunger to consume philosophical texts, and to think consciously about how to live a fulfilled life. I’ve never been so inspired to read and think about this subject, though I suppose I have been pondering it casually since I was a kid. I took a philosophy course in college, but only now am I beginning to understand how philosophy can be used as a tool to understand the world, the universe, the self, the point (or lack of a point) of it all. My hat is off to this gifted and eloquent teacher. I will listen to this again I am certain. I also have much reading to do. Ok I’ll just say it: this course may have changed my life.
May-June 2021
An Introduction to Political Philosophy by Jonathan Wolff
This author is a masterful explainer, and he possesses a powerful philosophical mind. He doesn’t just summarize the major ideas of great political philosophers, but he challenges them, and puts them through a gauntlet of philosophical analysis. In the end, we see the perks and flaws of the theories of Locke, Rousseau, Mill, and we also understand that all “normative” philosophies are up for debate. His description of the leftist critique of liberalism was the clearest I’ve ever encountered. However I do wish there was a bit more of a Marxist lense at certain points, and at times the book speaks lovingly about modern liberal capitalism in a way that feels a bit dated, especially since the only allusion to climate change (a direct result of modern capitalism) is a brief mention of “externalities”. When the book is on philosophical ground the writing is superb, but when he dips into pure economics he seems somewhat out of his depth (or behind the times anyhow). Regardless, I recommend! I learned a lot, and it got me thinking. I would retitle this book Intro to Western Liberal Political Philosophy.
April 2021
Einstein: His Life and Universe by Walter Isaacson
Einstein’s story is lovingly told in a quite informal manner, which fits the subject quite well. Einstein remade physics in the 20th century, but was never fully comfortable with the ramifications of his own theories (quantum spookiness), nor did he ever really seem to fit in anywhere he went. This story dives into how an unknown patent clerk revolutionized our understanding of the universe and became a world-wide mega celebrity for it, yet somehow maintained his disarming, sloppy, absent-minded manner to the end. Einstein is funny and kind and lovable, a sweet and (in some ways) innocent genius wandering amusedly through a wacky life. Even when he had to flee Nazi Germany, when the Germans confiscated his home and labelled him an enemy, he kept his sense of humor. Above all, I learned that Einstein was very human. Unlike Gandhi, Einstein was no saint on earth. He was a skilled physicist, but struggled at times with being a loving husband or an attentive father (he preferred to focus on work). He never quite learned to hold his tongue, and often got into public arguments with those who disagreed with him (or his theories). And even in physics, he wasn’t always correct (he never accepted quantum uncertainty, even when it was experimentally verified). Despite his genius, I found him entirely relatable.
March 2021
Two Years Before the Mast by Richard Henry Dana
This book is still, after almost 200 years, powerfully moving and often hilarious. The author was a Harvard grad (and talented writer) who decided to try his hand as a sailor on board a merchant ship, and this book is the harrowing story of his two year trip from Boston, around Cape Horn, to California and back. The narrative is filled with wry first-hand observations of the sailors life, and many funny stories of the ridiculous characters the author encounters along the way. His telling of the perilous voyage around the horn, as their ship battled arctic storms and advancing scurvy, is terrifying and incredible. And there’s some flogging action in there for good measure.
February 2021
Bobby Fischer Teaches Chess by Bobby Fischer
This is a great book to start with if you’ve never played chess, or if you know the basics of the game but have never put much thought into how to play well. This book dives into the most basic checkmates, and also starts to train the reader on the kinds of pattern recognition that underpins Bobby Fischer’s chess genius.
The Great Courses:Redefining Reality: The Intellectual Implications of Modern Science by Steven Gimbel
These lectures are unique, varied, and deeply interesting! Every lecture is a different topic: physics, sociology, genetics, culture, economics, and more. The professor is a brilliant summarizer of big new ideas, as well as the current unanswered questions that taunt philosophers and scientists today. Pick any lecture, and there will be something in there that opens your eyes and maybe even challenges the way you see the world.
January 2021
Great Ideas in Classical Physics by Steven Pollock
Dr. Pollock is a truly gifted teacher. His explanations of the major discoveries in classical physics are so clear and understandable, that he allows you to focus on just how mind-blowing the laws of physics really are. This course really opened my eyes, and taught me many new ways to see the universe. I want to know more!
Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts by Christopher De Hamel
This author lovingly leads the reader on an in-depth tour of some of the world’s oldest and most treasured books, as well as the libraries where they are kept. The stories behind the books are fascinating, as are the author’s breathless descriptions of the books themselves, and the meaning behind the magnificent artwork inside them (not to mention the scribbles in the margins made by some anonymous monk 1,200 years ago). Full of glossy pictures of the old books. Great book to pick up and put down whenever you want.
How can I live my best life? What are some strategies that will help me reach for fulfillment in life? Here are some of the lessons I picked up from reading one of the world’s oldest self help books: The Bhagavad Gita.
Strive to do your best in all things you attempt, but do not attach yourself emotionally to the consequences of the actions you take. In other words, you can control an arrow only up to the point you release it from the bow. From there, it is beyond your control what happens to it. So put all your focus into aiming true. Release that arrow as perfectly as you can, but once it’s been released do not be attached to what happens next, because it is out of your hands. Feel free to observe how it lands and adjust your next shot accordingly, but do not become emotionally invested in the results. You goal is to improve, and therefore you must practice and hone your craft. But see if you can do this without letting your ego get involved in the process. As you prepare to release that next arrow, remember that your sense of self-worth does not need to hang in the balance
This is useful in so many ways. In the business world, you should try your best to be a productive part of your team or organization. However once you’ve finished that business presentation and sent it out, you no longer have control over what happens to it. It may be judged harshly, it may be ignored, or perhaps unforeseen forces outside of your control will cause your presentation to fail. These things can and do happen; when they do happen, gather whatever data helps you grow from the experience, and move forward. Likewise, in a family you should be a generous and caring participant in your loved ones’ lives: do your very best to guide them and love them, and teach them important life lessons, and give gifts, and give them your time, and make as many things special for them as you can. But once you’ve done all that you can’t control how they will respond, or the people they will ultimately become. Do not invest yourself emotionally in the result, but do your best and focus on continuing to improve your own performance.
This may seem like an impossible or even a distasteful goal (“Why on earth would I want to become emotionally detached from the outcomes of my parenting?!?”). Remember: this sort of “detachment” does NOT mean withdrawing from the world, nor does it mean acting in a callous, distant, aggressive, loveless, or harsh manner, or refusing to care about the consequences of your actions. Be active, be a participant, show love, give gifts, build something, engage! Just don’t let your pride (or even worse your sense of self worth) hinge on the results, on the consequences, because the consequences are beyond your control! Be your best self and you WILL make a better world, but understand that there are so many things you simply cannot control. If you try your very best, and learn from your mistakes, and make active improvements in yourself and how you treat others, you’ve done all you can do. You must then be at peace with whatever outcomes may come (while still learning from them, so that you can continue to grow and improve).
While it is wise to be at peace with outcomes, this does not mean that one should live a “passive” life, where we simply let the waves of life crash over us while we feel neither joy nor sadness, while we sit motionless and inactive, detaching ourselves from all warmth and love and connection, seeking some inner knowledge while the world passes us by. In fact, a good life is a life of action! There are countless paths that lead to enlightenment and fulfillment, but most require some form of action. One can seek deep knowledge in her field or expertise in her craft, or focus on taking selfless action for the benefit of others to build a better and more peaceful world (Gandhi followed this path, among others), or one can dive into meditation and self reflection, or build a life that is centered on love and family and empathy. A person can venture down all of these paths at once if she likes, but note that all of these paths require action! Don’t hide in a cave like a hermit, and don’t renounce all earthly joys like an ascetic, and don’t shut out the world or detach from loving other human beings. Go be active in the world and do good work, love people, build connections, get out there and do something. The message here is this: yes live a life of action, while also working to become emotionally detached from outcomes beyond your control. Another way to say it is this: everything in your life should be active, except your ego.
This is easy to talk about but very difficult to put into practice every day. Even as I write this, I picture in the back of my head a day far in the future, when my (adult) sons discover that their father created music and wrote articles about interesting ideas, and how proud they will be, how they will think I was so cool, how they will then be inspired to expand their own minds, etc. etc.! You see? It is my pride and desire and need for affirmation that drives this fantasy, and it’s a clear example of my emotional investment in other people’s future opinions of my life’s work, an example of my ego at work, an example of how much I really do invest my self worth in the outcomes that I cannot control.
Instead, I should write this just because I feel compelled to write it, because it brings me joy, because writing this is me playing my part in the greater whole of humanity; I should not write it just to get future praise and admiration from my sons. Even as I write about detachment from these sorts of desires, I am so very very attached.
This is really about suspending one’s ego, and resisting the urge to expect a quid pro quo in all things. I should not parent well BECAUSE I expect future praise from my children. I should not strive to be a good teacher BECAUSE I hope students will tell everyone what a great teacher I am. I should not write beautiful music BECAUSE I need everyone to know what a gifted musician I am. I should do these things well because it is right to do them to the best of my ability. That is how I play my part, how I contribute to the great human story. I parent, I teach, I write music, and I strive to do those things well, because that is what brings me joy. But once I complete a task, I must detach myself from the consequences. As long as I am doing everything to the best of my ability, and learning from my mistakes, then I have played my part well.
This is also about not caring what people think of you. As long as you are doing your best in everything you attempt, and living virtuously by trying to do good (because emotionally detaching oneself from consequences is not a free pass to be a jerk to everyone), then you can ignore other peoples’ opinions about you. Again, I don’t teach well because I need the other teachers to think I’m great. If I teach well, a likely byproduct will be that other teachers respect me, but that is not guaranteed, and also that is not the purpose of teaching. If I indeed teach well, then I really don’t need to care what the other teachers think, because I genuinely give it my all and do my best to bring quality to my classroom. Beyond that, I actually have no control. All I can do is my best. I need to be at peace with whatever comes after that.
Of course if another teacher or a student offers me constructive criticism, I should not ignore it (“Sorry I don’t listen to feedback because I am so detached from the outcomes of my actions”). Quite the opposite: I should listen and use it as a growth opportunity, a way to improve. But I should not let my self worth crumble because somebody saw things in a different way than I did, or because I made an error and didn’t realize it until a peer pointed it out. Take the feedback and grow, but don’t obsess over the mistake itself (which is in the past); instead focus on doing better next time, and remove the ego or the stung pride from the equation. Nobody lives a mistake-free life, and nobody can ever please everyone all of the time.
Even more importantly: if life ever throws you a real curve ball, and places you in a lose-lose situation, a situation completely out of your control, a situation that tests you and puts you under pressure, these same lessons apply triple fold. Pull back your arrow, aim it as best you can, and fire. Then, pull another. In other words, do your best. And once you’ve done your best, don’t rake yourself over the coals because your best didn’t match up to some unreachable standard. Sometimes you might get battered by the waves, and face challenges far beyond your control. Sometimes no matter which path you choose you will wind up paying a high cost.
A typical example: an elderly parent suffers a debilitating long-term illness that requires many hours of your care and attention every day for many months, but at the same time your new position at work requires extra time for meetings, managing teams, due diligence on new topics, and long-term planning. Meanwhile you have two young children who need your love and attention, and a house that is in need of some repairs. If you sacrifice time with your parent in favor of work, you neglect someone who needs you, someone who is suffering a profound personal crisis, someone who cared for you when you were so small and weak, who loves you dearly, who wants nothing more than to spend as many precious few moments with you as possible. But if you neglect work, you will lose your chance to build your team, squander the opportunity to build on what you’ve already worked so hard to achieve, maybe even lose your position. Not to mention that this schedule leaves no time whatsoever for self care. In these moments it’s so crucial to be kind to yourself: emotionally detach from outcomes beyond your control and just do your best. When life gets real there are so very few things that you actually can control. Focus on doing whatever you must do to survive, to get by. Keep paddling, keep shoveling, keep trying. As long as you do as much good as possible with the limited resources you have at your disposal, you are free to accept the outcomes without self-judgement, even if they are not optimal.
This focus on intentions rather than consequences aligns well with philosopher Immanuel Kant's deontological approach to ethics, which emphasizes the importance of acting ethically and following the rules of morality at all costs, consequences be damned. In other words, pay no heed to outcomes, and instead be sure to obey your moral compass (or your moral duties) regardless of the context of the situation. Personally I find Kant's expression of this ethical principle too forceful and one-sided, since it seems to completely discount the idea that ethical action can ever properly be defined by the consequences of one's actions. Consequences do matter in the real world; in fact they matter very much, and they must be taken into account when determining which course of action is most ethical (or which ethical duty we must follow). However the Bhagavad Gita's expression of this principle is more subtle than Kant's, perhaps because its focus is less on finding the optimal moral behavior, and more on achieving fulfillment in life. In essence, one should strive to become emotionally detached from consequences not because this is the key to the most moral possible behavior, but because this behavior allow a person to live a happier and less-burdened life. What if we were to pair this emotional detachment with a duty-based moral system such as Kant's (or even with a moral system that aims to maximize a particular outcome, such as utilitarianism)? If it is possible to follow a strong moral code, but also not allow one's ego or sense of self-worth to hinge on the uncontrollable outcomes of one's actions, we may in fact have just hit on the ultimate combination of fulfillment and moral action. See Kant's Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals for Kant's take.
Another facet of the Gita’s message about personal fulfillment is the argument that freedom comes from discipline. By discipline I do not mean disciplining others, but instead “self discipline”. For example, if you want to become so talented at playing a musical instrument that you can improvise with complete freedom, perform music that leaves listeners breathless and fills their hearts with emotion, experience a sense of total control over your craft, and create timeless with your own hands, the only way to achieve this is through years of disciplined practice. Without self discipline, one will not sit still long enough to learn anything, and will not practice when practicing becomes hard. Whether practicing a skill, parenting, reflecting on one’s own actions, building a professional skill set, or building a love-based relationship with someone, discipline leads to focus and improvement and growth and a better life.
We sometimes are taught (especially in the USA) that freedom is the opposite of discipline. If only we had no rules to follow, then we would be truly free! One can easily imagine a Libertarian fantasy where we all enjoy perfect freedom, total liberty to live exactly how we please, and everyone lives a fulfilled life. This premise that real freedom comes from a lack of discipline is most likely wrong (dare I say utopian) when applied to society as a whole (after all, wouldn’t the local warlord with the most guns and money simply take advantage of this lack of structure and seize power?), but it is especially wrong when applied to self-discipline. Without some kind of self-discipline in place, freedom can never be achieved. One could even go so far as to claim that a total lack of discipline leads to slavery, because a person with no hard-won skills or knowledge will be at the utter mercy of those with skills and know-how.
It is worth noting that this particular take ignores the materialist notion that what truly makes people into slaves or pawns or oppressed peons is not lack of inner discipline, but instead the material forces one faces from birth (i.e. one's class). Those in poverty do not have the time or resources or capital to focus on self-cultivation and skill-building, while those in higher classes do, and that is what determines whether someone will end up a leader/owner/master or a peon/proletarian/slave. It has almost nothing to do with one's own work ethic, since hard work and self-discipline will only get you so far when one starts out in poverty (i.e. if work ethic mattered more than one's original class position, there would be a lot more millionaire fruit pickers out there). See Marx's and Engels' The German Ideology for a classic exposition of this materialist position. I find this position highly convincing, and therefore I need to make clear that this Gita message about the power of self-discipline should be applied solely to personal growth, and not warped into an argument that claims those who are in poverty are there because they lack self-discipline. This is a conservative distortion of the Gita's message that destroys its meaning, and turns it into a tool to distract us from the problems caused by capitalism. This warped message blames the poor for their poverty, rather than addressing the systemic causes of poverty. The Gita's message is certainly not "the poor are only poor because of their own choices".
Ok back to self-discipline. Lets picture a classroom metaphor. If a teacher is a disciplinarian, the students may crave the freedom of having no rules. But abolishing all rules and discipline creates not freedom but chaos. Imagine a classroom that lacks all discipline. Some students ransack the classroom, others casually chat, others attempt to teach themselves something, and others simply leave. The majority of the students will not learn anything nor gain any wisdom from the experience. It seems that when everyone just does whatever he or she wishes to do, the classroom stops being a classroom and becomes something else (a hang-out spot, perhaps). In the end all the students will just wander away from the school, leaving only an empty building. The school is thereby rendered useless. It has failed to fulfill its purpose, and the students who expected to gain knowledge there only wasted their time. Chaos, not freedom, was created in that place.
Imagine that your mind itself is the school. Do you want this kind of chaos (this kind of “freedom”) in your mind? Is this the proper way to cultivate skills and learn long-term lessons? In this metaphor you are the teacher and also the student. You must possess the discipline to teach yourself, to practice, to stay focused, to learn lessons, to grow. When one does not possess the control to do these things, no skills are gained, and our base desires rule us while we live in ignorance. When one exerts discipline over oneself, specifically when aimed toward perfecting a skill or craft, and when we combine it with a certain detachment from the consequences of the good work we do, the results are a kind of freedom that can only come with mastery, can only come with detachment from the opinions of others. It is the freedom to create, to innovate, to improvise, to push boundaries, to rise to ever higher levels. Picture a performer who appears to play piano effortlessly, but that “lack of effort” is actually the result of years of diligent practice, and a mind that is willing to work hard.
It is so easy in our modern world to let the chaos take over, to jump from one task to another, to try a thousand things but master none, to let ourselves be constantly distracted by texts, emails, videos, Tiktok, and so much else. To cultivate a skill, you must possess the discipline to shut those distractions out, and set your mind on a single track for a nice stretch of time, to sink slowly into practice, and explore/probe/investigate one single topic, even as the whole wide world tries endlessly to crash down the doors of your concentration and destroy your focus. You are the gatekeeper to your own mind, you are the teacher of your mind’s classroom, you are the master of your own focus.
All things of quality require time and discipline and hard work. This is true of art, it’s true for those who seek knowledge, it’s true of fidelity and maintaining open communication in a marriage, it’s true of cultivating a skill or talent, it’s true of building strong friendships, it’s true of raising children, and it’s true in business.
Ideally, I strive to make my life and my art and my relationships the best that they can be, and all of this takes much practice. Of course simple repetition is not “practice”. To practice, one must reflect on one’s actions and adapt one’s technique over time in order to overcome barriers and gain new skills, and stick to the cause of self-improvement even when it becomes challenging to forge ahead. One must be present and engaged, not zoned out (the difference between practicing piano versus simply noodling, or the difference between being truly present with one’s children versus staring at the iphone while the children play at one’s feet). Being present takes focus and energy; life moves quickly and it’s easy to just coast or tune-out or “get through it” without reflection, especially when one has children and work and so many other things to juggle. So many times my wife Erica and I have commented how we feel sometimes like we have become parenting robots, delivering love and care to the children but completely hollow inside. This is not healthy or ideal. Striving to be the best I can possibly be (as a parent, etc.) is a daily challenge, and I easily get burned out.
Therefore, don’t overdo it with self-discipline. A lack of discipline may create less freedom, but that does not mean too much discipline creates maximum freedom. Go easy on yourself when you’re feeling burned out. A burned out parent should go (if she can) away from the children and grab some time for him/herself. Even a few hours can make a big difference. This is also true of practicing piano or any other skill. Take breaks, but stay conscious of the goal and always return to it when you are ready. Remember: rest is just as important as discipline, and in fact it may require some discipline to make yourself rest. The body and mind must recharge if you plan to stay healthy in this challenging and difficult world. Therefore making time for rest is in itself a form of personal growth.
So stay disciplined and focus on personal growth, and strive to do your best in all things, and to do good. But do not concern yourself with what happens once you complete a task and send it out into the world. Don’t let your pride hinge on the praise/condemnation you receive from your loved ones and contacts. When life becomes difficult and times get tough, just do your very best; that’s all anyone could ever ask of you. Aim your arrow as well as you can and let it fly, then focus on the next arrow, content that each time you fired you aimed it as well as you could. And if you do watch the arrows fall, it is only to gather data so you can make your next shot even better.
Recently I’ve been writing this music for piano, clarinet, and cello, with the intention of entering it into the composition contest held by the NYC Contemporary Music Symposium. Today I officially entered the competition. If I win, this music will be performed at a concert in New York, and I’ll get a professional recording too.
The first draft of this music came about in 2007, after reading the dark and mysterious novel The Meaning of Night by Michael Cox, which filled my head with strange colors. I sketched out the basic shape of the piece, but then discarded it as I got swept up in writing Jackdaw.
I revisited the music after returning from my honeymoon in 2012, and built it into a more sturdy shape. Because of the energy and emotion I was feeling during that incredible time in my life – when I had just returned from Europe newly married, when I was so obsessed with creating art and so hungry for life, and in many ways mixed up – this music (which was a by-product of that creative energy and emotion) will forever remind me of that time. To be specific, this music reminds me of the city of Prague, where I drank absinthe and played piano at a pub, and felt myself sink into the Great Human Experience. Read more about that here.
Even after all that, I still couldn’t be bothered to actually finish the music, so again it was discarded and left for dead. Then nine years later, in April 2021, when I decided to enter the NYC Symposium contest, I chose the Bowery Trio as the ensemble I would write for, and resurrected this music that has always meant so much to me. First I changed the instrumentation. The original instrumentation was piano, oboe, and bassoon, which certainly gave it a funky flavor (as I mentioned earlier, I was trying to express some strange color)! But once I switched over to the much more standard piano, clarinet, and cello, the music took on that rich and loving sound that it always wanted to have. While the original instrumentation was unique, it didn’t fit with the sections of the music that were more tender, the love themes. The new instrumentation brought those themes to life, and welcomed more diversity of color into the music as a whole. Oboe and bassoon can become a bit monochromatic after a time, but cello can sing forever.
This music bends genre a bit. It’s classical for sure, but also infused with blues. I also wanted certain rhythms to sound metal, but not metal in the sense of Metallica meets the symphony. I wanted the metal-esque pieces to be fully baked, or interwoven, into the framework and form of the classical music (as opposed to simply taking a metal song and performing it with a classical ensemble). Therefore this music doesn’t really sound like authentic metal in any sense, but certain sections were inspired by the genre, and these moments make an impact on the ear as they pass.
This music has followed me through multiple stages in my life. First as a student striving to expand my creative palate, trying to understand the world but falling far short; then as a young husband, traveling in a haze from country to country, stateless but full of love and optimism, bursting with creative energy; and lastly as I find myself today: a father, trying desperately to prioritize art creation during a very busy year of a very busy life, still nurturing that spark. This music somehow reflects all of that. Or at least that’s what it means to me.
I set myself a goal in January to enter two music competitions this year. One down, one to go.
Considering how massive Jupiter is, and how strong the gravity must be, how come Jupiter is so gaseous? In other words, why doesn’t Jupiter solidify? Seems like that would happen with all that gravity. For that matter, why doesn’t that happen with the sun? Is it that high gravity creates so much heat in the core that even though the gas is highly condensed it still can’t solidify? Or is it something to do with the freezing point of hydrogen?
If there was a steel beam 6 inches thick but a million miles long, and it was floating in space with nothing nearby to exert gravity on it, what would gravity generated by that beam do to the beam itself? Would it collapse in on itself and become a sphere? Since this beam would be so massive, would it have massive gravity? Or would it have very little gravity due to its thinness, the fact that all of its mass is spread so thin?
Considering the positive charge that protons carry, and the negative charge that electrons carry, how come atoms don’t just collapse in on themselves? What prevents this?
If you put an object that has no water whatsoever in the microwave, would it heat up?
If we travel toward a light source (such as the sun) at very fast speeds, will the increased frequency of the electromagnetic waves change the light from visible light to gamma radiation, and therefore become deadly? Does this put a physical limit on how fast humans could ever travel toward a star (go too fast toward the light and we get cooked)?
If the universe is always expanding, and therefore everything in the universe is always moving further away from everything else at all times, why have the stars that we can see from earth always remained in a fixed position since the time of the Ancient Greeks? Or have they not?
Fascinating and funny too! Goes into epic detail about how the different parts of the brain affect human behavior, and how brain chemistry can help us understand why humans can be so aggressive/racist/warlike and also so nurturing/sensitive/empathetic.
Isaac Asimov’s Magical World of Fantasy, Volume 1: Wizards by various authors
Such a fun collection! My favorite is the story “Mazirian the Magician” by Jack Vance.
September – November 2020
The Expanse Series (Books 1-8) by James S.A. Corey
What can I even say about one of the greatest sci-fi series ever written by man? These stories are so innovative and far-reaching, truly mind-bending; meanwhile the characters are so lovable and relatable… I just love these books so much. And they got me interested all over again in learning much more about physics!
August 2020
The Poorer Nations: A Possible History of the Global South by Vijay Prashad
Though the writing style is a bit monotonous, this book is eye opening and heartbreaking. It rips the veil away and reveals the lies underpinning the “story of America’s economic greatness” that is taught in every classroom in this country. I left this book feeling fully disenchanted with economics, capitalism, billionaires, and the way America conducts itself in the world.
July 2020
Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Noah Harari
This writer is a master at making connections, tying together different branches of science and sociology and archeology into a picture that explains who we are, how we got here, and what drives us. His writing style is forceful, even aggressive at times, but brilliant throughout; he paints such a convincing and captivating picture of the way he sees things, it’s tough to argue with his logic. His views can be controversial at times, and he presents his ideas with a lot of attitude, which make this book a real fun read. I’m not certain that Harari is spot-on with all his theories, but don’t let that stop you from allowing this book to change the way you see humanity.
Understanding Marxism by Richard Wolff
This is a very brief book, basically aimed at identifying the major problems with capitalism. While I sympathize with the arguments, the author did not go into any level of depth regarding solutions to these problems. He simply takes for granted that socialism is the solution, without bothering to prove it, or to dive into any of the sticky situations socialism can create. I need solutions, not just identification of problems. Here are some thoughts on the matter.
April – June 2020
Gandhi and India Trilogy by Ramachandra Guha
When the Covid-19 virus hit the US and we all had to lockdown, I decided to finally research a man I had long wanted to understand: Mohandas Gandhi. These books did much more than tell me about his life; they expanded my mind and invited me into a completely different way of seeing (and existing in) the world. Gandhi still has so so much to teach us all: about how to somehow feel so much love and passion and connection with all of humanity that you’d be willing to sacrifice your body to spread peace, while also embodying detachment and desirelessness, a man without anger or pride, a man at peace with himself and universe. Gandhi took these dual, perhaps opposing, outlooks to their extremes throughout his life. Was he successful at creating a more peaceful world? Well that’s a question worth discussing.
January 2020
How the Earth Works by Michael Wysession
This is probably my favorite Great Course I’ve ever listened to. This professor is so talented: with a calm a laid-back demeanor he dives into so many fascinating scientific topics, and his mastery is apparent in every lecture. Learn the inner workings of Earth, the formation of the solar system, the role that life plays in the geology of the planet, why earth is a giant magnet, and how each and every one of us are all part of a giant connected cycle that never ends. This lecture course made me feel so connected to my planet and the living things on it. It also made me question whether anything humans create can ever be called permanent or important. Eye opening and mind blowing all the way through.
1. Memories of the Ghetto – Read about this movementhere.2. The Metamorphosis – Read about this movementhere.3. A Letter to my Father – Read about this movementhere.4. Milena – Read about this movementhere.5. The Hunger Artist – Read about this movementhere.
I have long been fascinated by the connection between music and literature. My favorite pieces are the ones that tell real stories, or convey a timeless message to which we can all relate. For example, in Schubert’s “Der Erlkonig” and Liszt’s “Mephisto Waltz,” the listener hears the devil’s laughter and knows the human characters will not survive. These scenes are profoundly tragic in ways that all humans can understand and relate to, yet all we hear are the musical notes. This is the power of art.
When I began this string quartet, I was working at a book store. Everyday I would sneak into the stacks of literature and read as much as I could without getting caught. It was during this time that I was introduced to the works of Franz Kafka. Immediately upon reading his words, I knew I wanted to set them to music. The dream-like quality of his stories and the constant sense of anxiety in his prose put me on edge, and filled me with difficult emotions. I began researching his life, and found his real story to be almost as painful as his characters’ stories.
Born in a Prague ghetto in 1883 to an emotionally abusive father and bewildered mother, Kafka developed into a nervous, death-obsessed adolescent. He never married, and some of his most substantial female relationships were through innuendo-filled letters with married women. He eventually took a job at an insurance bureau, but began writing short stories on the side. Though rarely published, his stories were startling and unique. Dark, haunting, and non-sensical, each one feels more like a drug-induced nightmare than a short story. Kafka wrote hundreds of letters and diary entries as well, detailing his vague escape fantasies; possibly to Palestine where his Jewish brethren would welcome him, or to far-away America where he could reinvent himself, or anywhere that he could finally find a community that accepted him for who he was. Franz was brilliant, but neither his father nor turn-of-the-century Prague appear to have noticed. Regardless of his desires, he never left Prague, and died at the age of 40 from tuberculosis.
I related to Kafka in a number of ways, back when I was obsessed with him, back when I was writing this music. I was about 22, in between school and whatever future career I hoped to build. I was working a part-time job, delaying the inevitable. I drank too much, stayed up all night, slept til noon, accomplished very little. I felt isolated and scared and indecisive and twitchy… not a great time. I was obsessed with my own impending death, with time ticking by, with the ever-present fear that I was wasting my life. Upon reflection, I realize now that this was just a transitional time for me, when my childhood had ended but adulthood had not yet begun. I did not have a community, I wanted to be someone else, I wanted to be better than I was, to have more skills and experience, I wanted to flee. At that moment in my life, Kafka’s strange voice reached out to me across the expanse of time and made me feel like maybe I wasn’t so alone.
Like Kafka, I’m also Jewish. Kafka seemed to vacillate between indifference to the religion of his birth, and the intense interest of one who tries over and over (in vain perhaps) to feel connected to his culture, his ancestors, his local community. In Kafka’s entire written works, there is only one, single mention of Jews or Jewishness. Yet Judaism permeated the culture of Kafka’s upbringing, and most definitely influenced his style of story-telling: his gallows humor, his affinity toward demonstrating the absurd nature of human existence, and of course the sense of “otherness” that all his main characters share. I have always felt similarly conflicted about Judaism. I have never been a true believer, nor have I felt much in common with those who take the dogmatic parts of the religion seriously, which made it difficult for me to find a home in the Jewish community of my birth. However despite this lack of faith or religious devotion, I am absolutely a byproduct of Jewish culture and upbringing. Jewishness is in my blood, as well as my way of speaking, my sense of humor, my cynicism, who I am and how I see the world. I may read about the history of Judaism as a way to feel connected to my ancestors, to understand all the ways the religion and history and culture shaped me, but (like Kafka) I have no community in the temple.
Kafka took this sense of “otherness”, this cynicism and love for the absurd, this desperation and loneliness, and rolled it all together into an alternate universe that flowed endlessly from his pen. In his dream world, everything is almost exactly as it is in reality, except nobody seems to act the way a sane person would act. Social cues mean something altogether different, and we the reader are lost in what appears to be a culture both foreign to us and recognizable as our own. People are cruel and stupid, rules that make no sense are enforced without empathy, the world appears to be a labyrinth of faceless bureaucracy, and we the reader are lost in it without a guide or a map. So in other words, it’s pretty much like the real world.
This music is about Kafka’s life and my own. It’s about feeling lost and alone and desperate and scared. It’s about reaching for love and hope and joy in a world full to the brim with unthinking cruelty. It’s about striving for connections to our own culture, which though it’s our own can sometimes feel so foreign and nonsensical. It’s about making art in a cold and indifferent world, art that attempts to tell a story that is timeless and tragic and messy and uplifting all at the same time, a story about what it’s like to be human, a story we all know.
Fun fact: the keys of the five movements are C, A, F, C, A.
When I was a young man of 22, I developed a bit of an obsession with Franz Kafka. In retrospect this feels like a natural thing to have happened, since Franz Kafka’s stories are basically angst incarnate, and I was certainly feeling a whole lot of angst at age 22. At the time, I was a recent college graduate working at Borders, resisting my parents’ urgings to go get a teaching credential and start my career. I was broke, uncertain whether I was a kid or a grown-up, terrified of the future, maladjusted to the world around me, and dissatisfied with who I was. So yeah, Kafka spoke to me.
In Kafka’s world, nameless police break into your home in the middle of the night and drag you to your trial, where none of the evidence makes any sense to you but the judge sentences you to death anyhow. Kafka’s characters react to things differently than we would expect normal humans to react, which creates a disorienting feeling that something is off, or that we just don’t understand the rules. These vibes made me feel right at home in my early 20s, when I felt the profound sensation that I did not understand the world, that I did not know all the rules, that something was a bit off.
The Metamorphosis is the ultimate story for this brand of angst. The main character (who is pretty much Kafka himself) awakes to find he has become an enormous insect, a disgusting vermin, a horror so hideous his family can’t even look upon him. Like his family, he doesn’t understand why this has happened to him, or why, or even what kind of food he is supposed to eat to stay alive. When his family leaves plates of food inside his door, the food just makes him sick. He can’t communicate with anyone. Nothing makes sense. He spends his time frantically scuttling up and down the walls trying to make sense of the world, staring out the window longingly, and listening to his sister play heartbreaking melodies on her violin from the other room. His family tries to live normal lives, but clearly everyone has been shattered by the transformation. In the end, the bug dies. The family sweeps the corpse out of the house, and go out together to buy new clothes. Now that the horrible freak is gone, they feel alive again.
I think this story is really about feeling misunderstood. For anyone who has ever felt directionless, or lacking in strong relationships, or “apart” from the world, this story creates a perfect little metaphor for how that feels. You feel like a disgusting bug that can’t communicate, doesn’t understand how the world works, and just weirds people out. For all the sci-fi/horror components of the story, it’s really about the author himself feeling hurt and alone. Kafka, though brilliant, was a pretty misunderstood guy in his time. His low self esteem was reinforced by his brutish father, who never gave a kind word or loving gesture to his only son. Young Franz, a sickly but gifted kid, seemed unable to relate to most of the people around him, as if he came from a different culture (or planet). Easy to imagine him picturing himself as that bug. I know I did the same back when I felt so lost.
The music itself is a rondo, which looks like this:
The curtain raises on the reflective and somber “A” theme, music that comes back again and again throughout the piece. It’s a theme song (if you will) for the giant hideous bug monster pondering his own fate. The “B” section is the bug coming to terms with his new reality. He grieves and questions and rages and hopes and longs for things to be different. But inevitably that “A” section returns, confirming that this horror show truly is his reality, and resignation sets in. In the “C” section, the bug realizes that, though he is a monster unloved by the world and locked forever in his room, when he sets his humanity aside and embraces his bug-ness, he can do some cool stuff. He scurries up and down the walls, forgetting himself in the joy of stretching his segmented, hairy bug legs. It isn’t so tragic, at least for the moment, that he is no longer a man. He explores his bug senses, listening and smelling and experiencing his new reality, feeling what could even be described as happiness. He isn’t trying to be human or trying to be loved, but just being whatever he is.
In this music, there is a moment in the middle, while the bug is happily scurrying all over the walls, when suddenly you can hear his sister’s violin ringing through, her gentle tune rising above everything else, nostalgic and sad as the memory of a lost love. He may be separated from her, unable to communicate, horrifying to look upon, but they both understand that melody for what it is: a love song. Even in the midst of pain and uncertainty and fear, there are still things that tie us all together. One of those is love. Another is music.
