Author: D. Oreck

I hesitate to wade into the fraught world of politics, where anything I say will likely offend someone, but we seem to be living through one of those moments in human history which invite reflection. We may, as some fervently believe, be witnessing the “Endtimes” – or maybe it’s just another season of perpetual human strife.

It is a strange thing to witness: we humans, images of God, the crown of creation, continuously, willfully murdering each other, in fact on the verge of annihilating ourselves, perhaps not realizing that God will absolutely permit us to do this, even though it’s absolutely not what God would have preferred.

Our very nature ensures that we humans will disagree about things, but there’s a right and a wrong way to disagree. And of course we’ll disagree about that too. From my sheltered experience, having never been imprisoned or shot at or bombed, I draw a hard line at physical violence. There’s almost always an alternative to physical conflict, so I’m continually amazed at how often we choose it. Do people actually think war is fun?

Even with all our advances of civilization, it seems that tendencies towards physical oppression and violence are barely decreasing, each new technology benefiting war and peace almost equally. And we citizens of the world play along, somehow accepting the idea that violence is a natural and unavoidable part of human existence. But I did some simple math, and concluded this: if God loves the Christian Russians and the Christian Ukrainians, and if God loves the Sunni and the Shiʿite Muslims, and the Hindus and Buddhists, and the sinners and saints, and everyone else, then there’s no one that God doesn’t love, and God couldn’t possibly want anyone to hurt anyone, ever. Are my calculations correct?

So one would think that religion would be a driving force of peacemaking in the world; yet it’s quite the opposite: religion seems to factor largely in almost every major conflict – whether over ideas or territory. So is God at war with herself? I find that hard to believe.

If someone simply chooses to be a “mightiest”, that’s their God-given freedom – we godlets having the power to defy God’s will. One can choose to ignore one’s conscience and follow the law of the jungle, as if a human being were a mere beast, but we should at least be clear-eyed about our choice: wrapping our animalistic behaviors in the guise of religion only muddies the water. My anger or fear is not God’s anger or fear. My covetousness is mine alone.

For many people, it seems that religion serves little more purpose than a soccer team’s colors – a way to highlight tribal identity, to separate the “us” from the “them”. How else can we explain the oxymoron of the Buddhist warrior – or the Christian soldier?

Reading about a Supreme Court execution spree got me thinking about “Christian killing”, which I have to put quotes, because there is no such thing: at the moment you’re killing someone, you’re anything but a Christian. There’s been a lot of “Christian killing” going on lately, and of course it’s been going on for 2000 years; but, however normalized, it never was and will never be “what Jesus would do”.

I’m no bible scholar, but even a cursory reading of the New Testament affirms what I know in my heart to be true: God doesn’t want his kids killing each other, ever. There are a few passages in the Gospels that could be construed as endorsing violence, but these passages are thoroughly nullified by multiple crystal clear statements by Jesus to the contrary. An honest student of the Bible would have to conclude that these few suggestions of violence either shouldn’t be taken literally, or are not authentic.

Yes, Jesus spoke of a metaphorical sword, and a metaphorical millstone around someone’s neck; but then, in a situation of actual violence, he said with devastating clarity: “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” Do these Supreme Court justices actually believe that they, or anyone in the United States, or anyone in the world, are without sin?

I could delve into fine points of Christian history to explain why Jesus’ apparent endorsements of violence can be disregarded, but there are already entire books on the subject. In short, it should be remembered that everything in the New Testament was written, edited, and compiled years or decades or centuries after the fact, by people who had their own opinions and agendas. Those who proclaim that the entire Bible is “God breathed” are giving voice to a wish. This, of course, opens the door to endless debate, but that’s healthy. Our fantasies and assumptions about God have led us to the most godless places.

To any reverent student of any sacred text, I’ll suggest this: God is more alive in the tree outside your window than he is in the pages of your books. Ultimately, God’s “Word” is written in our hearts, and, as the Bible itself tells us, we each must seek and discover that Word for ourselves.

From the perspective of my heart, Jesus’ actual teachings against violence couldn’t have been any clearer. Did he actually want people to gouge out their eye or cut off their hand? No; if he said these things at all, they were figures of speech, lost in translation. Did he actually say “Blessed are the peacemakers”? Yes, and he meant exactly that.

I’m speaking especially to the Christians, because I’m here in the US where Christianity is a big thing, and I’m kind of a Christian myself, so can deeply appreciate the absurdity of “Christian killing”. But in every religious tradition we find the same simple admonition: treat others as you’d wish to be treated. This statement of basic moral truth is self-evident, and doesn’t contain any wiggle room. Life might be full of moral dilemma, but the golden rule is a universal constant.

To followers of other religious traditions, I can speak in general terms, but it’s not for me to clean another’s house. But here’s the basic idea: if it disagrees with the golden rule, it’s not true. To the nonreligious who possess a moral compass, I would only encourage them to consult it. And to those who think moral compasses are for fools, I’ll point out that following the golden rule can actually be fun and profitable.

For all who believe that “Thou shalt not kill” is a decent and sensible commandment, the pressing question is why people don’t keep it – and why religious leaders don’t preach it. In the Christian world, the answers are varied and complex, but at their root they reveal a deeply distorted conception of Jesus and his teachings. I’ve long thought that those who idealize a “Rambo Jesus” are simply unschooled, but am coming to realize that they’re very well-schooled – in a tradition that views God and His son as warriors, and believes that, in warfare, the commandment against killing doesn’t apply. If one regards the entire Old Testament as literal truth, I suppose this makes some kind of sense; but such a reading of the Bible requires us to conclude that Jesus was, at best, inconsistent, and, at worst, deluded. How could a Rambo Jesus, filled with Old Testament wrath, possibly ask us to “turn the other cheek”?

And so, after impressive mental gymnastics, and following centuries of precedent, we find ourselves with Christian soldiers, generals… and executioners. This student of the Bible, meanwhile, shakes his head and ponders the glaring incongruence between this “war god” Jesus and the person portrayed in the Bible.

From the January 6 mob invasion of the US Capitol, one of the most telling images is of the “warriors” praying from the Senate dais, thanking God for their victory. The man leading the prayer is dressed like a fervent fan at a football game – and his team just scored! His God is a tiny god, only big enough to love a few people – the home team – and all the lofty words of praise can’t disguise this smallness.

It seems this “Christian warrior” mentality is at the heart of the struggle presently roiling this nation. The entire antidemocratic movement we’re witnessing is infused with a sense of moral superiority – a sense that God’s outrage is being expressed through them. Considerations of decency and legality are suspended because this is holy warfare, directed by their great and tiny God.

I’m sure there are countless Christians who see through all this, who’ve maybe studied the Bible a little more closely, maybe read a few books about the history of Christianity. Now would be a really good time for them to speak up, and call attention to a much larger God – one big enough to love every soul on the planet, every second of the day.

This country’s founders seemed united in their desire to keep church and state separate. It’s not that they weren’t religious themselves, but that they clearly understood the toxic result of combining the two. Religion becomes a football game, dirty politics cloaks itself in piety, and the lowest common denominator triumphs. It would be helpful if more Christians in America could acknowledge the spiritual wisdom that inspired our secular government, and stop misunderstanding it as some “communist plot”.

As the founders hoped, religions and religiousness are flourishing in the United States – there are many churches in every town, and no one is prevented from attending any of them. Yes, many are leaving the churches, as is their God-given right. Perhaps the churches should honestly ask themselves why. It has little to do with communism.

To those who consider themselves “Christian warriors”, I’ll agree that Jesus was indeed a very brave man, who exhorted us also to be brave. But Jesus was more than just brave: he was smart, insightful, compassionate, even patient. And his entire life story was a testament to the profound heroism of nonviolence.

Surely Jesus was a “spiritual warrior”, but there’s a reason he’s known as the Prince of Peace. The warfare he advocated was that which occurs inside each of us – the struggle between our higher and lower selves, our better and worse angels. This is a much tougher sort of battle than the ones involving guns and bombs; and as that battle is slowly won, we’ll each, hopefully, come to know, and manifest, the peace of which he spoke.

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Military people like to talk about the “bad guys”, apparently not realizing that this makes them sound like small children. Playing cops and robbers at age 8, my friends and I enjoyed the role-playing, but by age 12 we’d lost interest in such childishness. It’s hard to hear adults talking like this.

As I write this, the US has just withdrawn its last soldier from Afghanistan, and a flurry of articles, including one of the most depressing I’ve ever read, has led me to conclude that, in this twenty-year slugfest, there were no “good guys”. We went to Afghanistan with somewhat good intentions, and ended up damaging or destroying almost everything we touched – the same as in a long line of other “interventions” stretching back to Korea. It’s hard to admit, but the modern US military seems to have a Midas touch.

I’m no military scholar, just an American bloke who pays his taxes, thereby funding the destruction machine that is the US military. The American military is mainly good at one thing: killing. Maybe it’s time to accept that killing is never a good thing.

Many thought that the US would rethink its strategies after the Vietnam debacle, that its foreign policy might incorporate a hint of humility; but humility doesn’t seem to be one of America’s defining virtues. With 1940s nostalgia, we keep pining for that intoxicating mirage of moral high ground – even as Japan and Germany have become close allies, and Vietnam a valued trading partner. Exactly what will it take to convince us that the good guy/bad guy narrative is a childish fantasy?

A wise man once noted: he who lives by the sword dies by the sword, and that is not the fate I wish for our fair country, or our fair planet. We need to face a simple truth: war is obsolete, a vestige of our primitive past that needs to be discarded to the scrapheap of history. This, in our present world, seems like a comic impossibility, but there’s really no other way forward.

One needn’t be an oracle to see where we’re presently headed: with each technological advance, everyone’s “swords” will get deadlier, more numerous, and more affordable, until one day, through some accident or miscalculation, we’re treated to an apocalypse not of God’s making. It really is time to put away childish things.

Meanwhile, another month, another war. And each one, in a slightly more perfect world, would never have happened – the smallest amounts of empathy, compassion, and pragmatism would have prevented the whole thing. Our toolbox would have contained something other than hammers.

It’s sometimes hard to comprehend the fact that this is all our choice, but every hammer in our toolbox – from bayonets to atom bombs – is there by our choosing. It’s not God; it is we who are choosing to die by the sword. Jesus, 2000 years ago, asked us to make the right choice, and we’re still not making it.

In its hubris and elitism, modern America resembles the Roman empire, where “citizens” were the only people that mattered. With hindsight, we view this as barbaric, yet continue to march through the world with the same attitude, imagining that we, by God’s decree, are the eternal good guys. The tragedy in this is that many Americans sincerely want to do good in the world; we just don’t seem to know how. May I make a simple suggestion? Let’s accept the fact that every life is precious, and put away our guns. Let’s try something audacious: spend trillions of dollars not on killing, but on compassion and respect. We might be amazed at the results.

Seventy years after World War Two, we remain stuck in a wartime economy, a perpetually self-fulfilling prophecy of military solutions. So here’s a crazy idea: rather than trying to stop the unstoppable military-industrial complex, why don’t we use some jujitsu, and start slowly converting our military into one big Peace Corps. Let the soldiers and generals keep their careers and uniforms, and start giving them medals for irrigation systems and solar power installs. Our military has become impressively adept at logistics, and these talents could easily be diverted to other ends. Weapons factories needn’t be shut down; they can just start making things people actually need – like 10 billion heat pumps, for starters. At some point, military strategists might warm to the idea of putting weaponry on the back burner, as they notice the overwhelmingly superior “firepower” of being genuinely helpful.

Of course military hawks might scoff at this idea, but the real resistance will come from the businesspeople who make fortunes off of war, who somehow consistently win the complete cooperation of their governments. But this isn’t an insurmountable obstacle: it’s true that ROI would be lower for peacetime products, because there would be less opportunity for graft, but there would still be bucketloads of money to be made in the new Peace Corps.

The Army Corps of Engineers is another inspiration. An unavoidable consequence of our unfolding climate crisis will be the need for massive public works projects all over the planet. Of course the Corps may have their hands full just with domestic problems, but it will be in our interest to help poorer nations too – the pollution from a coal-fired power plant in Africa is also a “domestic problem”. There’s no end to the peaceful missions our military could be sent on, and we could still decorate our soldiers on their return. The only thing they might miss out on is some PTSD.

There is another thing that soldiers might miss out on: the chance to be heroic in a life-or-death situation. This might in fact be the essential allure of militarism – the opportunity for profound acts of courage, where one is willing to lay down their life for a larger cause. How much better, though, if the cause was something actually good. Climbing a power transmission tower might take some courage too; and my dad took great pride in the fact that he helped build the Shasta River dam. In contrast, the memory of being in a war zone will haunt you for the rest of your life.

There will of course still be a need for national defense for the foreseeable future – other nations will also need to forget about their guns. But in Chinese culture, it’s long been understood that the act of going to war is in itself a failure, regardless of who “wins”. Confucianism and Christianity both unequivocably describe a path of nonviolence. The superior leader finds ways not to go to war.

The quandary is that our military is, domestically, a very positive thing, creating jobs, careers, and stable communities throughout the country. The problem is with its end products. So how can we retain the benefits of these institutions while reducing the harm they inflict on the world, and our standing in the world; even (if I might make a small request) while removing the imminent danger of nuclear annihilation? The solution isn’t that mysterious; the problem is that we, as a people, seem to have an inordinate fondness for guns, missiles, and other expressions of phallic might. I do wonder if we might benefit from a female president.

Two types of inertia, then, are hindering our societywide transition from war machine to purveyor of peace: one involves values and habits of thinking, the other involves physical systems and entrenched financial interests. They both need to change in tandem: tangible results in the direction of peacemaking will encourage us to change our values, and changes in our values will result in new strategies and investments. There’s little precedent in history for this, but it is doable. We need to build a new machine.

Actually, that new machine is already partially built. The cure for wars lies in communication, compromise, and community; and a functioning democratic government provides the framework for these things. To the degree that the United States is a functioning democracy, we’ve enjoyed this sense of community, and have been spared the agony of perpetual wars between the states that otherwise would have been our lot. We take for granted how well democracy has served us, and fail to appreciate how this same framework could benefit the entire world.

If the United Nations, like our own government, is a complete mess, the solution isn’t to abolish these institutions; it’s to fix them. A functioning democracy has one premier product: the absence of war. We can have bureaucracies and committees, political campaigns and intrigue, even impeachments and indictments … or we can have battlefields strewn with bodies – and then, at some inevitable point, mushroom clouds. Is this really a difficult choice?

Democratic governments have shown themselves capable of allowing diverse populations to coexist without violence. Maybe nobody likes lawyers (except lawyers), but I’d rather face a phalanx of attorneys than one person with an AR 15. We understand, though, that there are few video games celebrating the exploits of government bureaucrats or court clerks. This new machine can only be built with with some new thinking. Imagine, if you will, a world where policemen don’t carry guns, where democratic institutions successfully perform their function as keepers of peace, and where all those gleaming swords can finally, joyfully, be beaten into plowshares.

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It seems almost axiomatic that politicians are dishonest – or, put more gently, that a politician’s skill at massaging the truth is a key predictor of his/her success. At the same time, we celebrate and reward “authenticity” in our leaders, resulting in a political world that’s a mystifying blend of straight talk, obfuscation, and shameless duplicity.

At this point, it’s probably not even partisan to note Donald Trump’s flexible relationship with the truth. A recent article drove this home for me– parked the car and closed the garage door – and the next thought prancing through my mind was: How and why could a Christian possibly support such a person? Granted there’s a wide variety of Christianities, but they’re all kinda based on the same book, which I’ve read. Doesn’t that book refer to the devil as the Father of Lies? I mean, aren’t Christians supposed to be honest?

It seems clear that Jesus was really not fond of corruption of any kind, yet here we see devout Christians giving their decisive support to what is probably the most corrupt president in this country’s history. If Hillary really did eat babies, I’d probably vote for Trump too; but Trump’s lies aren’t innocent: many are devised to stir up division, hatred, and violence, all in the service of his infinite narcissism. I can hardly think of a worse sort of dishonesty.

I guess it shows how many slips are possible between the hand in the lip – two people can study the same Bible and come away with completely different interpretations. Everyone says you shouldn’t pick and choose when reading Scripture, but I don’t know anyone who doesn’t.

The Bible is sufficiently full of contradiction and unclarity that one can project onto it a wide variety of philosophies: change your mental filter and a different set of meanings appears. If you’re required to believe that every word of the King James Bible was “breathed” by God, this filtering job gets much more difficult, so many people, I suppose, just leave the details to their pastor. But many highly literate Christians have apparently concluded that, if it furthers the Christian religion, lying, cheating, theft, and various forms of violence don’t matter – even if the sinner isn’t contrite; even if he goes and sins again and again. The story of King David almost supports that conclusion, but the story of Jesus most certainly does not.

A very crude thought then intrudes: One con loves another. Christian institutions have been involved in various cons for centuries, so I guess Mr. Trump fits right in. Let me quickly emphasize that I don’t mean the entire Christian world; I mean the Christian leaders now and through millennia who have been much less than honest with their congregations. They are legion.

I’d like to have a little word with these leaders. Dear pastors, priests, cardinals, televangelists, etc.: You are professionals, trying to do a good job for your “boss”; but, not to be too dramatic, you really can’t serve two masters, and it would behoove you to figure out which one you’re working for.

If it’s just money and power you’re after, I do feel sorry for you. But then there are others who seem to think they can serve two masters – who believe in honesty and respect, yet believe they must defend themselves, even with dishonesty and violence, from the onslaught of satanic forces. Their fear of satan causes them to become satan.

Of course, we can all find support in Scripture. There is a wrathful materialistic war god in the Bible – and then there’s a God of love. Which one did Jesus represent, and which one do you choose to serve?

Traditional Christianity, and Islam as well, try to emphasize the continuity between the old and new testaments, but, using my mental filters, what stands out most are the differences. Though nominally Judaic, Jesus’ life and teachings pointed to a complete new level of consciousness, wherein love – both human and divine – reigns supreme. When Jesus described God as a loving parent, he removed the option of viewing Him as a glowing orb of wrath and vengeance. When we fully embrace the idea that “God is Love”, we find ourselves in a reality that transcends manmade constructs of religion and politics.

Jesus was asking us to move beyond religious concepts dating back to our caveman days, to understand that earthquakes and hurricanes are not signs of God’s wrath, because God has no wrath. 2,000 years later, we still haven’t moved on. Groups of cavemen are still trying to prove that “their” God is bigger. Factories keep cranking out guns and ammo. Jesus still waits to be heard.

The Bible is what it is, but how we use it is our choice – either as a source of enlightenment, or as something to thump. I can only pray that you Christian professionals will start taking your jobs much more seriously, studying your Bible much more closely, attempting to understand all the history surrounding it, and all schools of thought and criticism. Simply agreeing with a prevailing view doesn’t work, because that view has been warped by centuries of gaslighting – the gaslightees becoming the new gaslighters, until finally no one even realizes there’s a problem. But the Bible is full of problems, and the more you study it, the more obvious and troubling they become.

A handy solution I’ve found is to skip the Old Testament almost entirely. Then go to Revelations and physically remove it from the book – if Thomas Jefferson could do it, so can you. The Old Testament is a bewildering patchwork of outlooks and agendas; it can be fascinating and illuminating, but can hardly be viewed as an accurate or objective historical document. Profound spiritual truth can be derived from the Torah, but that truth must be painstakingly untangled from tales of political intrigue, poetic exaggeration, and good old superstition. And the Book of Revelation? Someone’s angry political diatribe, dressed in the imagery of a fever dream. It casts an ugly shadow over the entire Bible. Just tear it out.

In the remainder of the Bible, you will read some amazing stories about this crazy rabbi, Jesus. Some scholars suggest that he never even existed; but no, he definitely lived. What’s a lot less clear is how he lived, and what he really said. Many parts of the New Testament have, to me, the loud ring of truth and credibility, while other parts feel like pure fabrication – attempts to squeeze Jesus back into the confines of archaic superstition.

But from any perspective, using any filter, a vivid picture is given of a man who didn’t tolerate a lot of bullshit. For Jesus, lies came from Beelzebub, and hypocrisy was really not a good thing. Here we have modern-day followers of Jesus just luvin politicians who love to lie; but, as Jesus personally experienced, God and politics often just don’t get along.

I understand how some Christians might see their religion as mostly a kind of club or tribe to belong to, preferably tied to the club of their political affiliation, but to you Christian professionals I ask, what’s your excuse? You’ve read the Bible, and hopefully, in your own picking and choosing, highlighted one monumental sentence: “A new command I give you: Love one another”. If we find ourselves telling lies and endorsing violence in the name of God, something has gone seriously off the track. I understand that the constraints of tradition and church politics are tight and powerful, but you’re a human soul in a relationship with your creator. What are you going to do?

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In the perfectly named book on grammar, Eats, Shoots, and Leaves, a panda is transformed from a peaceful vegetarian into a cold-blooded killer – by two little comas. The author is playfully illustrating the power of the humble coma, but it turns out that, in a similar sentence, his joke has become a reality. The Second Amendment of the US Constitution also features two lethal comas:

A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.

Even someone with no interest in grammar will notice that something’s wrong with this sentence. It simply makes no sense. For 200 years this illogic was politely ignored, until, in recent years, creative lawyers and judges have employed it to throw an entire nation into confusion. Surely there are other reasons why Americans are so fond of guns, but it’s clear that this single messed-up sentence contributes greatly to our present status as gun capital of the world. So let’s fix it:

A well regulated Militia being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms shall not be infringed.

The meaning of the sentence should now be quite clear. The first clause is not mere “throat clearing” – it has equal weight with the second clause, and the two together convey a single simple thought: that the states must be permitted to keep an armed militia to protect themselves against possible threats – the foremost threat, when the amendment was written, being the armed forces of the federal government.

Taken both literally and in the context of the 18th century, this amendment, properly punctuated, is unambiguous. The justices of the Supreme Court are far more educated than I (or is it me?), so surely they’ve figured this out. And with the correct punctuation, another idea in this sentence comes to the fore: that this state militia must be “well-regulated”. Again, this isn’t some meaningless preamble: the amendment is simultaneously restricting authority of the federal government while delegating that authority –and responsibility – to the states. The second amendment says what it means and means what it says – and was never intended to empower mobs and madmen.

If the states have reason and authority to regulate automobiles, and to license drivers, they have the same authority over guns and gun users. The second amendment in fact implicitly requires states to do this regulating – and to do it “well”.

For most of this country’s history, a common-sense understanding of this amendment has prevailed, so what has changed? Basically, emotions and politics: guns, for some, have come to symbolize two powerful impulses: the desire for freedom, and the fear of losing it. And as the Supreme Court has bent the law to accommodate these sentiments, it’s shown itself to be not the lofty bastion of truth and logic that those dignified robes would suggest. And then the question arises: are these Justices lying to themselves, or just to us?

It’s fun to ponder the truths of the universe, the laws that underpin our reality; and it’s comforting to know that the universe will never lie. We ask it questions; it tells us the truth. Will rain get you wet? Yes. But humans also inhabit a place beyond the laws of physics: we can lie. We each possess this godlike ability, and can wield it so deftly that we even fool ourselves.

In my life, I’ve lied a lot. Many cringes. One can argue that there are virtuous lies; but many of mine clearly were not. So, while fully understanding the mechanisms behind lying, I’ve come to see lies as akin to bedbugs. And I’m pondering this profound power we each have, as I watch our world devolve into a kind of liefest. Maybe it’s always been this way, only now having gotten digital – but don’t these bloodsuckers seem to be getting huge?

Oddly, however big they get, the critters are sometimes hard to spot. A big lie can swallow an entire population with no one seeming to notice. I sometimes recognize my own lies only after years of self-deception. But whether a truth is blatant or evasive as the devil, our inquiries need to start with one crucial ingredient: a desire for truth. And a desire for that desire, and so on.

We assign judges the daunting task of desiring truth, of not giving in to the temptation to lie – of perhaps even seeing past appearances to a deeper truth – and hope that, aided by the props of cloaks and wigs and stately courthouses, they will rise to the occasion. But even Supreme Court justices are evidently quite human; and the problem is that their failures don’t just threaten the legitimacy of an institution; they threaten our trust in truth itself. Amongst our many needed societal transformations, we need to create a judicial system where fearless commitment to truth is rewarded and expected – a goal that will only be reached by a society that has itself learned to hold a desire for truth.

Predictions about climate change are either true or false – which are they? One either does or does not believe in the principles of democracy – which is it? Is it right makes might, or is it the other way around? Do guns kill people, or do people with guns kill people? Or does it matter? One must sometimes reduce things to a simple binary, and then try to make an informed decision. Objective truth is knowable, but first we have to want it. Dear Lord, I pray for a burning desire for truth.

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When speaking about international relations, many have pointed out that it doesn’t have to be a zero-sum game, where one team’s loss equals the other’s gain. That in itself is a profound truth, but only tells part of the story, because, in practice, a zero-sum conflict usually adds up to less than zero – sometimes much less – due to “friction”.

Any adversarial interaction is going to involve wasted energy. If two friendly parties sit down and try to find the solution to a problem, ideas will be compared and debated, and an optimum solution, benefiting both parties, will be found – a win-win. If one or both of the parties choose not to be friendly, two things happen: First, since they’re focusing on their own needs, the parties won’t be looking at the big picture, and may overlook a win-win that’s staring them in the face. Second, energy that could have been expended fixing the problem will instead be expended fighting over the problem.

Inventors, scientists, and entrepreneurs have made great strides in minimizing friction – in machines, institutions, and all sorts of human interactions. At the same time, humans haven’t lost their taste for it: we love competitive sports and conflict-filled movies and games; we love to battle against the odds. So there’s the paradox: Friction is what makes life interesting, fun, meaningful; and then, at some point, friction is what turns our life into hell.

Even if we’re not enjoying drama and violence, we tend to accept it as a normal and necessary part of life. Animals fight all the time, so why not us? We rationalize conflict by thinking in terms of “acceptable risk”, justifying energy expended in argument, litigation, or warfare as a “good bet”, because, if we win, the costs will (theoretically) be born by the loser. But in the real world, nothing is that simple: rarely does the winner come away unscathed, and, since some amount of wealth has been completely wasted through friction, the winnings will be diminished. And then there are the long-term costs – bad blood, and, eventually, payback.

The cost of friction is not trivial – in a zero-sum game, it’s often the case that both sides are losers. In warfare, this is painfully obvious, as it is in litigation, where an entire settlement can be eaten up by legal fees. But it’s true all down the line – even a petty family argument can leave both parties exhausted and disappointed.

While inventors make everything from cars to computers more efficient, and entrepreneurs find ways to make every sort of business interaction “frictionless”, in many areas we seem to be making no progress at all. Is it simply because some part of us truly craves and enjoys conflict and friction? Partly so, but I think it’s also because we don’t fully appreciate the cost and wastefulness of it all.

I sometimes dream about how much more pleasant life might be if our resources weren’t so consumed by friction. Imagine, if you will, a world with no armies, jails, locks, passwords – a world where no one would ever try to steal something from someone else. That’s a stretch, isn’t it? Then try to imagine how much energy would be freed – energy that could then be used constructively. We humans would suddenly become quite a bit wealthier.

We are slowly inching in that direction. The worst energy-waster – war – is slowly becoming less prevalent, though there may be a relapse at any moment. Techniques of conflict resolution are becoming more widely known and practiced. People are coming to appreciate the inherent disadvantages of a police state. It’s becoming better understood how social justice and and ethical wealth distribution benefits everybody. But a huge chunk of the world’s GDP is still devoted, one way or another, to conflict.

What might finally waken humanity to a realization of the folly of all this wasted energy? Sadly, bankruptcy. When you’ve all but exhausted your resources, that’s when waste starts looking really foolish.

Imagine, if you will, a world where our enjoyment of conflict is channeled constructively. Into sports, certainly, and into all sorts of healthy competition. If everyone “fights fair”, competition in ideas and activities can result in a net gain for everyone; but when bad faith creeps in, the costs quickly mount, til finally everyone’s losing.

Maybe what’s needed, then, is an appreciation of the difference between healthy competition and toxic aggression, and an acknowledgment that bad faith is never a good thing. Paradoxically, it’s in the arena of sports – a realm of pure competition and aggression – that bad faith is least tolerated. Myriad rules and regulations are strictly enforced, and “good sportsmanship” is universally admired. Meanwhile, in the realms of business, government, and politics, even the idea of regulation is hotly contested, “fairness” generally considered the strategy of losers.

Humans will always be prone to “losing their temper”, but this phrase aptly frames hostility as a failing, not a virtue. We can readily forgive someone for “flying off the handle”; we should not so readily forgive politicians and businessmen who cold-bloodedly plot and execute bad faith transgression and conquest. We should recognize such behavior for what it is: a fail – wasteful friction in the machinery of human life, a game plan that yields a sum of less than zero.

It isn’t really a stretch to imagine a world where business and politics exist in the same ethical realm as football. It isn’t even that much of a stretch to understand that we’re all, in fact, on the same team. Go team!

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One hears a lot about financial bubbles these days – the internet and housing bubbles, the GameStop and bitcoin speculation frenzies. These bubbles seem to represent impersonal forces of nature at work – a wave breaking on the shore – but also some sort of pathology, something broken wanting to be fixed. Avarice feeds on itself until it finally collapses of its own weight. I’m speaking from a religious/spiritual perspective here, because a strict materialist might see nothing broken: the strong survive; the weak perish. That’s life.

Highly leveraged markets and over-hyped investments are essentially symptoms of greed or desperation – either one a sign of dysfunction, of someone who either doesn’t know or doesn’t care what they’re doing. Again I arrive at a recurring theme – that one can be spiritually awake, with a functioning moral compass linked to an inquisitive mind, or one can be asleep, on autopilot, guided only by appetites and instincts.

Note that I didn’t say “spiritually dead”. Calling someone “dead” is simply a way to dehumanize them, turning them into a zombie that you can and should destroy. Don’t laugh, it’s happening all the time.

These bubbles may be a natural phenomena, but that doesn’t mean we’re powerless over them. Eventually the bubbles will self-destruct, but sometimes it’s best not to let these things run their course. There are medicines. As I watch our governments trying to apply medicines – and sometimes, tourniquets – to various pathological bubbles, I sometimes feel even hopeful, envisioning a world of “smart governments” not feeding or fed by various morbid bubbles of sin.

Such governments will only exist when sufficient numbers of its citizens understand and value simple decency. But now I’m using some slippery words: my concept of decency or civility or sin may be quite different from yours. But while we may differ regarding superficial interpretations, each of these words has a deeper and universal meaning, pertaining to our inherent worth as children of God.

It seems that swaths of humanity have lost track of these deeper meanings. The pathology cuts across party lines and national boundaries; but the sickness – either as a cause or symptom – seems to be more common in one segment: the wealthy. Please forgive me for generalizing, and perhaps I’m just imagining things, but there sometimes appears to be a decided dearth of decency in the ruling class.

Spiritual traditions the world over decry this pathology of the rich– the relentless drive to become richer still, decency be damned. Jesus had some very harsh words for it; yet the planet sustains a substantial population of avaricious rich people who claim to be Christian, who absolutely should know better. (btw, in the above link, camel was a mistranslation; the actual word is rope).

Preachings about morality and decency are not exclusive to Christianity, of course, or to Islam, Judaism, or communism; and their failure is just as widely distributed. So if none of these isms have provided a foolproof or even adequate path, is the any way to bring more decency into the world? Internally, the task is clear – just keep tending our garden – but out in the world things get complicated. It becomes hard to separate causes from effects, to identify points of leverage, or where a feedback loop might be broken. Should we focus on decency in government, or in the church, or in the media, or in the business world? It’ll take all of that and more; but, rather than surrender to despair, we can just keep working on ourselves – trying to learn the deepest meanings of decency and civility, and to manifest them more consistently in our lives. Our religion is kindness.

So I’ll keep trying to respond to hostility with patience, and to right wrongs when I’m able. It’s comforting to know that others are trying too. Perhaps as we, collectively, get clearer about what we really want, we’ll become more adept at breaking the vicious cycles and habitual behaviors that create bubbles of strife and suffering in the world. This seems, at present, like a fairytale fantasy – but I think, deep down, we all like fairytales. It may seem the tritest of truisms, but kindness is contagious. Imagine, if you will, decency bubbles.

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I’ll stop talking now. I trust that AI will digest these thoughts and then decide whether to crush me like a bug, add me to the database, or invite me over for tea. And to any human reader I’ll offer a word of encouragement: Things are getting better. The universe does have a purpose, and that purpose is joy. We will eventually get the joke. It seems God intends us to fully explore our powers of free will, and to learn as much as we like about truth and lies; but the outcome appears to be foreordained – we are being drawn inexorably towards truth, towards love, and towards God. Near as I can tell, that’s the plan. Thanks for reading.

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I notice that my investigations of truth often involve jumping from the microcosm to the macrocosm, looking for patterns, hoping one might help explain the other. Viewed either through a microscope or telescope, we behold an incomprehensibly complex universe; and then we discover the same complexity when zooming in on ourselves. I splash some water on my face, giving no thought to the billion trillion synapses behind those eyes. And then the way those synapses interface with a heart, a liver, a hand? OMG.

Then I think of that popular Muslim saying: “God is great”. Truer words could not be spoken, right? It seems safe to assume that the creator is always more advanced than the creation; and a quick survey of any part of this creation leaves us awed and flabbergasted. It’s basically miracles all the way down.

But here’s where it gets really weird. Strategically situated between the miracle of the cosmos and the miracle of the quantum realm is us. The fact that we apparently evolved from a primordial slime makes us no less miraculous; it just adds another layer of incredibleness to our situation. Here we find ourselves, mini-gods walking around in monkey bodies; the miracle of our inner life – the synapses, nerves, thoughts, and feelings – equaling the miracle of our surroundings.

So yeah, God is great. She’d have to be.

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So, after thinking globally, how can I act locally? I just read a post about dumpsters full of valuables that appear at the University after every graduation. My response may get censored, so here it is:

Maybe I’m an oddball, but this gets me riled up. In the sustainability game, “reuse” is the lowest hanging fruit, yet here, in our supposedly “woke” town, virtually no effort is put into diverting this stream of perfectly usable, even high quality, “garbage”.

I understand the dynamics: a 22-year-old graduate has a lot on their mind; and it was their parents who bought the stuff. But, in contrast to the rest of the town, the University has the infrastructure and staff to easily facilitate a “reuse program” – and, one would think, the social awareness to see the need and benefit of such a program.

I bemoan the lack of concern among young people regarding recycling in general – and no, I’m not imagining things. But what really mystifies me is why the University, witnessing the same thing every darn semester, chooses not to lift a finger to solve the problem. Whatever else you’re teaching at the University, you should teach kids to recycle.