"Is There Such a Thing as Truth?"

“

This seems like such a silly question.  Why would one bother to ask it?

 

I am writing about it at this moment because of the ridicule of former Mayor of New York Rudy Giuliani's almost comic assertion on Meet the Press as to whom to believe on the Russian investigation:  “Truth isn’t truth.”   Or, as Nietzsche wrote, “There are no facts, only interpretations.”

 

It reminds me of a talk I gave decades ago.  Its subject was a seemingly unarguable statement which should need no inquiry:  “Does Character Count?”  When I was first asked to address this, I asked “Are you serious?  The answer is obvious.”  The person I was talking to disagreed.  She said it wasn’t obvious and she wanted her students to know why I felt it did count.

 

Today, in the Trump Presidency, this question--"Does Character Count?"--demands an affirmative explanation, given its notable absence in so many of Trump's actions and statements. 

 

However, the subject I address here is, What constitutes truth?

 

To begin, I cite this from Steven Pinker in his book Enlightenment Now:  The Case for Reason, Science, Humanism and Progress.

 

“Reason is non-negotiable.  As soon as you show up to discuss the question of what we should live for (or any other question), as long as you insist that your answers, whatever they are, are reasonable or justifiable or true and that, therefore, other people ought to believe them, too, then you have committed yourself to reason, and to holding your beliefs accountable to objective standards.”

 

I embrace every word of this statement.

 

Our critical mandate is to hold ourselves accountable for assessing what we believe is truth in light of the latest emerging evidence.

 

Viewed in this manner, there are different categories of truth.

 

There are facts that we can be certain will not change in their truthfulness.  Examples would be:

 

·       Two plus two equals four.

·       All human beings will eventually die.

·       Lincoln was the 16^th President of the United States.

·       The Cincinnati Reds play baseball in Cincinnati.

 

Then there are truths which we assert based on the evidence in hand, recognizing the possibility that new evidence could change that view.  For centuries most people felt the earth was flat.  New evidence showed it was round.  A personal example of this is lodged in an essay I wrote during my junior year (1959) at Yale on Reconstruction.

 

I shake my head today as I read how I criticized, even castigated, newly-elected African-American congressmen for their naiveté and ignorance.  I concluded that it had been a mistake to allow these men to occupy political office.  I failed to recognize and appreciate what historians have come to correctly see as the courageous effort of newly-freed African-Americans to assume a leadership role in political life despite continued discrimination.  For me, this will always be a humbling reminder to keep my mind open to the possibility of a different interpretation compared to the one I hold now--informed by new facts and appreciation of the context and environment in which people lived.

 

There is a potential danger in this recognition of the vagaries and unintended consequences of historical events.

 

As historian Richard Hofstadter pointed out almost 50 years ago, “The great fear that animates the most feverishly committed historians is that the continual rediscovery of the complexity of social interests, the variety of roles and motives of political leaders, the unintended consequences of political actions, and the valid interests that have so often been sacrificed in the pursuit of other equally valid interests, may give us not only a keener sense of the structural complexity of our society in the past, but also a sense of the moral complexity of social action that will lead us toward political immobility.”

 

A sense of history, the eminent scholar Richard F. Neustadt warned, can be “an enemy of vision” or, I would add, “an enemy of making a considered judgment.”

 

We must be willing to render a judgment when we have compiled a body of compelling evidence and the importance of the issue requires us to.  But we must always be open to what Pinker describes as “reason" to reconsider our judgment in light of new evidence. 

 

What is most dangerous in the Trump administration is a lack of respect for truth.  A willingness to continue to propound positions which the available body of evidence says are wrong.   Like Trump’s claiming more people attended his inauguration than any other, despite the photographic evidence showing the crowd for Obama’s inauguration was larger.  Or Trump’s supporting the allegation that Obama was born outside the United States, long after his birth certificate and other evidence indicated this was untrue.

 

All this takes me back, chillingly, to what Goebbels said during the Nazi era.  In so many words, "If you keep telling people a lie, again and again, many will come to believe it." 

 

The respect for truth--for the objective determination of what is true based on all available evidence--is a foundation for all interpersonal relationships as well as the life of any organization.  Its denial must be resisted like the plague.

  

A Grim Book--Not To Be Missed

THE FIGHTERS:  AMERICANS IN COMBAT IN AFGHANISTAN AND IRAQ

BY C.J. CHIVERS

 

This is the most vivid, emotionally riveting and moving, sobering and inspiring and, in many ways, maddening book on war I’ve ever read. 

 

And I almost stopped reading it on Page 121.  

I had had enough; enough depiction of pain.  Of fruitless deaths.  Of misguided missions.  I put the book in a box with other books to be delivered as giveaways to the Public Library.

 

Then I read a Sunday New York Times review of the book.  It made me stop.  It described stories I hadn’t come to.  Stories of soldiers recovering from massive, life-changing wounds.  Stories of soldiers who didn’t recover.  Stories of their families.  Stories of combat so viscerally described I felt I was in the Humvee or in the airplane.  Descriptions of a bullet rupturing a face, cheek to jowl.  Descriptions of unsparing prose.  Short sentences, saying more than a long sentence ever could.  

 

So I went back to the book.  I finished it today.  I don’t think I’ve reached any conclusions that would surprise anyone.

War is hell.  

 

Never go into a war unless we’re certain it’s the only path forward.  

 

Never go into a war without a clearly defined end-point.  

 

Never go into a war without realistically assessing the chance for peace to be restored and a better outcome achieved.

 

Never go into a war without understanding the history of the place.  

 

We didn’t apply these beliefs in Afghanistan or Iraq.  

 

None of this is to say that we didn’t need to take action against Al Qaeda and ISIS which emerged from the forces we unleashed by our ill-conceived attack on Iraq.  But it should have been surgical.  In view of the history of these countries, it was the height of arrogance to think we could win the loyalty of the Afghani and Iraqi citizens, especially when we were killing their families and children, as is so painfully documented in Chivers’ book.  

 

So many lives wasted, so much turmoil in the Middle East still flowing from this ill-conceived and badly executed undertaking.

 

 

Religion And The Pursuit of Humanistic Values And Steven Pinker's "Enlightenment Now"

This well-reviewed book, acclaimed by Bill Gates as “the best book” that he’s ever read, makes a passionate argument that, by invoking “reason, science and humanism,” we can come together to do what’s necessary to help ourselves, those closest to us and everyone “flourish.”

 

His argument, in the end, rests on the belief that it is “natural” for humans to recognize that this way of life is right for themselves and for humanity.

 

He denounces religion and faith in God as not only implausible and wrong, based on all we know about science, but that its pursuit has resulted in such violence and harm to other people (e.g., religious wars) that it has to be thrown away.  

 

He goes on to also identify fascism and nationalism as tribal cultures that wreak havoc on mankind.    How true that has been.  His book has a hard time coming to grips with the fact that countless members of the intellectual and academic elite have supported fascist and extreme nationalist leaders like Hitler, Mussolini and Stalin.  

 

I believe Pinker’s underlying assumption of the “goodness of human nature” is too positive.  If only he were right.  There are instincts in every one of us that seek to lift ourselves up by comparing ourselves to some “others” whom we diminish for our own benefit.  This instinct will never go away.  

 

It is Pinker’s attack on religion—on having a faith in God—that hits me most deeply.  For he’s right in saying that our knowledge of how the universe has evolved, and our knowledge of the role of evolution and science does not leave space for certain knowledge that there is an originating God.  Particularly problematic is the belief which I’ve carried to a greater or lesser degree over time that God is playing a personal role in my life.  I’ve always worried that this is presumptuous.  I still do today.

 

Still, I have no doubt that, in my own life and countless others, the belief that there is a God that wills kindness over meanness, beauty over ugliness and that the words of Jesus carry meaning and power enables us to better live the humanistic values which Pinker advocates than we would if it were not for our belief in God and those teachings of Jesus.

 

Yes, terrible crimes have been carried out in the name of religion:  Christian, Muslim and others.  But that does not negate the fact that religious beliefs which celebrate the dignity of every single person have been a force for good on the part of countless individuals and collections of individuals.  For me, while there are other paths to broaden the practice of humanistic values, I do not see one that negates the contribution of religion and a faith in God.

 

What Geese Have to Teach Us

 

As each goose flaps its wings, it creates uplift for the bird following.  By flying in a “V” formation, the whole flock adds 71% more flying range than if each bird flew alone.

 

Lesson 1 – People who share a common direction and sense of community can get where they are going quicker and easier because they are traveling on the thrust of one another.

 

When a goose falls out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of trying to fly alone and quickly gets back into formation to take advantage of the lifting power of the birds immediately in front.

 

Lesson 2 – If we have as much sense as a goose, we will join in formation with those who are headed where we want to go.

 

When a goose gets tired, it rotates back into the formation and another goose flies at the point position.  

 

Lesson 3 – It pays to take turns doing the hard tasks and sharing leadership with people as with geese – independent with one another.

 

The geese in formation honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed.  

 

Lesson 4 – We need to make sure our honking from behind is encouraging, not something less helpful.

 

When a goose gets sick, wounded or shot down, two geese drop out of formation and follow their fellow member down to help provide protection.  They stay with the member of the flock until he or she is able to fly again or pass away.  Then, they launch out on their own with another formation or catch up with their own flock.

 

Lesson 5 – If we have as much sense as the geese, we’ll stand by one another like they do.

 

 

Reflections from a Study of President Eisenhower

I had an easy and interesting time (yes, they often go together) reading Ike’s Bluff:  President Eisenhower’s Secret Battle to Save the World by Evan Thomas.  Some notable and some surprising facts and reflections:

 

Ike’s high school yearbook predicted that he would end up as a history professor at Yale.

 

As President, Eisenhower harbored two fears.  The first was nuclear way.  The second was the fate that could befall a nation that devoted all its resources to preparing for war.  As he said in his Presidential speech during his term, “the jet plane that roars over your head cost three quarters of a million dollars.  That is more money than a man earning $10,000 every year is going to make in his lifetime.  What world can afford this sort of thing for long?”  

 

Today, many in Congress are celebrating adding another $80 billion to a defense budget greater than the next dozen countries in the world.  Another person claims there was a “20% reduction” in the military budget during Obama’s tenure.  The only way you could get to that number is to count the fact that we have reduced our forces in Iraq and Afghanistan.

 

Shortly after Stalin’s death, Eisenhower made what he felt to be his first truly important address.  He wanted to let the latest National Security establishment know that he was looking for ways to get off road to atomic war with its bleak alternative of turning the country into a garrison state.

 

Eisenhower was often ill.  He had to take sick leaves.  It was remarkable to read that right after one of them, “Chastened by the severity of his illness, Ike quit (smoking) cold turkey his four-packs-a-day cigarette habit.”  Wow.  I thought I had a problem.

 

The nadir of Eisenhower’s presidency was his “going along” with Kermit Roosevelt’s sadly successful move to displace Mohammad Mossedekh as the Prime Minister of Iran.  He also supported the effort to overthrow the government in Guatemala and, later, to launch the Bay of Pigs planning which created the catastrophic scenario which Kennedy inherited.  Eisenhower said the biggest regret in his Presidency was the fact that he lied about the U2 incident.

 

Winston Churchill liked to paraphrase Samuel Johnson’s belief that courage is the greatest virtue, because without it, man can have no other.  Eisenhower was not given to such philosophical pronouncements, but it is clear that he valued patience above all else, says Thomas.  That wouldn’t be my conclusion.  My conclusion would have been he valued “winning” above all else.

 

A surprising assessment of Eisenhower’s Presidency from Henry Luce:  there was some “substance to the charge that Ike had rather reigned rather than ruled.”  He tended to assume as you can in the Army, but not in the White House, that an order once given is to be executed.  “He has been an easy boss,” Luce said.  

 

Eisenhower responded to Luce with a thoughtful and revealing private response:  “I plead guilty to the general charge that many people have felt I have been too easy a boss...I do not mean to defend, merely to explain.”  Noting that he was operating with a divided and complex government that required cooperation and compromise, he concluded, “of course, I could have been more assertive in making and announcing decisions and initiating programs.  I can only say that I adopted and used those methods in matters that seemed to be most effective.  Finally, there is the matter of maintaining a respectable image of American life before the world among the qualities that the American government must exhibit is dignity.  In turn, the principal government spokesman must strive to display it.  In war and in peace, I have no respect for the desk-pounder, and have despised the loud and slow talker.  If my own ideas and practices in this matter have sprung from weakness, I do not know.  But they were and are deliberate or, rather, natural to me.  They are not accidental.”

 

What a contrast this personal introspection and statement of principle represent to what we see in and hear from President Trump.  More personally, what an apt description it probably is of how many people feel I led P&G.

 

 

 

Reflections from Thomas Rick's Study of George Orwell and Winston Churchill

A fascinating book which presents the beliefs and lives of Winston Churchill and George Orwell.  Most impressive about it is the brilliantly selective use of quotations from both writers and what I found to be wise perspective on the meaning of their lives for today.

 

I also found a good deal in these citations relevant to the life I’ve experienced:  

 

·       I am struck by how often in history the “wisest” writers and thinkers have felt the world was going down the drain.  The historian Arnold Toynbe began the 1930s observing that it was becoming common to think that “the Western system of society might break down and cease to work.”  In 1935, the Shakespearean scholar, A.L. Rowse, wrote that it was “too late to save any liberalism, perhaps too late to save socialism.”  In 1938, after the Munich Agreement, the novelist, Virginia Woolf, wrote to her sister, lamenting “the inevitable end of civilization.”  

 

Despite these easy-to-support assertions, “civilization” has shown the ability to sustain itself against great setbacks.  It’s worth remembering that today as we bemoan what’s going on around us.

 

As George Orwell wrote after World War II, lamenting what was going on around him but still looking forward:  “Spring is here, even in London…and they can’t stop you from enjoying it.  The atom bombs are piling up in the factories, the police are prowling through the cities, the lies are streaming from the loudspeakers, but the earth is still going around the sun and neither the dictators nor the bureaucrats, deeply as they disapprove of the process, are able to prevent it.”

 

On the other hand, we must not fail to see how narrow the gap is between calamity and avoiding calamity.  If it hadn’t been for Churchill, a peace agreement might have been reached between the leaders of Britain and Hitler.  Many leaders, including Lord Halifax, wanted to find such an agreement.  

 

In our own history, there were those who advocated that Lincoln agree to the Confederate states withdrawing from the Union.  

 

The challenge Churchill faced in World War II was huge.  As just one example, in 1942, Churchill was crushed one day to learn that, of a convoy of 34 ships coming from Canada, 20 had been sunk.  

 

·       I’ve often remarked on how every life is made up of “successes” and “failures.”  That is certainly true of the lives of Churchill and Orwell.  Churchill’s defeats were many prior to World War II and after World War II.  Yet, he displayed towering strength and willpower during the war.  Without him, it may not have ended the way it did.

 

Orwell’s books Animal Farm and 1984 achieved greater notoriety and success after his death than before.  When he was alive, his book sales were measured in the hundreds and thousands.  Since his death, an estimated 50 million copies of his books have been sold.

 

In Animal Farm, Orwell described an existence that spoke directly to the tragedy of Communism.  Later, he wrote, “Totalitarianism demands, in fact, the continuous alteration of the past, and in the long run probably demands a disbelief in the very existence of truth.”  It is not just the future that belongs to the all-powerful, but also the past.

 

·       Both Churchill and Orwell were, at their very heart, focused on understanding reality and, drawing from that, conclusions in a direction that fostered individual freedom.

 

I love this from Ricks:  “In war time, people will believe the worst if they are not told the truth, or something close to it, perhaps mixed with a vision of the way forward.”  That is what any leader at any time must provide to his or her organization.

 

Orwell, like Churchill, would spend the post-war period warning of the great dangers that still existed despite the defeat of the Nazis.  In fact, “great dangers” will always exist as part of human nature.  The tendency to exercise power to one’s own or to one’s group’s advantage will be ever present.  We must always stay rooted, to the best of our ability, in the sanctity of individual liberty and human dignity.

 

 

Turning 80--Filled with Gratitude--Reflections

The mother of my daughter-in-law and dear friend, Joani Mendelson, gave me a wonderful little book called Gratitude.  It’s a slim volume of four essays written by a neuroscientist, Oliver Sacks, who had reached the age of 80, knowing that he had terminal cancer.  I was 78 when I received the book. This past week, I turned 80 myself.

Oliver Sacks said many things which I feel, though I could never express them in the eloquent language he used.

“At 80, the specter of dementia or stroke looms.  A third of one’s contemporaries are dead and many more, with profound mental or physical damage, are trapped in a tragic and minimal existence.  The marks of decay are all too visible.  One’s reactions are a little slower.  (Particularly noticeable for me, walking on the beach and seeing people walk briskly past me!)  Names more frequently elude one, and one’s energies must be husbanded, but even so, one may often feel full of energy and life and not at all ‘old.’”  (How well that, particularly the last sentence, describes my feelings especially when I am with my children and grandchildren in a place like Pointe au Baril, where we are now.)  

Sacks describes what his father, who lived to 94, often said to him.  He expressed a feeling, as Sacks writes, that he’s “begun to feel, not a shrinking but an enlargement of mental life and perspective.  One has a long experience of life, not only one’s own life, but others, too.  One has seen triumphs and tragedies, booms and busts, revolutions and wars, great achievements and deep ambiguities.  One has seen grand theories rise, only to be toppled by stubborn facts.  One is more conscious of transience and, perhaps, of beauty.”  (Yes, indeed, above all of beauty.)  

“At 80, one can take long view and have a vivid, live sense of history not possible at an earlier age.  I do not think of old age as an ever grimmer time that one must somehow endure and make the best of, but as a time of leisure and freedom, freed from the factitious urgencies of earlier days, free to explore whatever I wish, and to bind the thoughts and feelings of a lifetime together.”

Sacks, in other short essays, writes, “Over the last few days, I have been able to see my life as from a great altitude, as a sort of landscape and, with it, a deepening sense of the connection of all its parts.  This does not mean I am finished with life.  On the contrary, I feel intensely alive, and I want and hope in the time that remains to deepen friendships, to say farewell to those I love, to write more, to travel if I have the strength, to achieve new levels of understanding and insight.”

“This will involve audacity, clarity and, in plain speaking, trying to straighten my accounts with the world.  But there will be time, too, for some fun (and even some silliness as well).”

 “I feel a sudden clear focus and perspective.  There is no time for anything inessential.  I must focus on myself, my work and my friends.”  (For me, particularly, focus on Francie and my family and, yes, my relationships with those closest to me.)

“I shall no longer look at the ‘news hour’ every night.  This is no indifference but detachment—I still care deeply about the Middle East, about global warming, about growing inequality—but they are no longer my business; they belong to the future.”   (I don’t quite go that far; but I do remind myself to concentrate on the essential FEW.)  

And in continuing, “I have been increasingly conscious of deaths among my contemporaries.  Each death I have felt as an abruption, a tearing away of part of myself.  There will be no one like us when we are gone, but then, there is no one like anyone else, ever.  When people die, they cannot be replaced.”

“I cannot pretend I am without fear.  But my predominant feeling is one of gratitude.  I have loved and been loved.  I have been given much and I have given something in return.  I have read and traveled and thought and written.  I have had an intercourse with the world, the special intercourse of writers and readers.”

“Above all, I have been a sentient being, a thinking animal, on this beautiful planet, and that in itself has been an enormous privilege and adventure.”

Yes, gratitude, that is my predominant feeling.  It is no mistake that a prayer, which I never forget to say to God when I am in church, is a prayer of thanksgiving for all the blessings that He has given me, above all in my family.

*****

 

It Is His Character Which Makes Trump So Unfit To Be Our President

I am reposting a short piece I  wrote 22 month ago, about a month before Trump won the Presidency. It was my final assessment of his unfitness to be President. 

Sadly, and more importantly dangerously,  the warning posed by this short essay by Frank Outlaw is being borne out daily by Trump's behavior.

"Watch your thoughts; they become your words.
Watch your words; they become your actions.
Watch your actions; they become habits.
Watch your habits; they become character.
Watch your character; it becomes your destiny."

***************************************************

Years ago, at Miami University, I was asked to address the  question,  "Does Character Count?"

I was amazed that anyone would think it necessary to address a question with such a self evident answer. 

I concluded my talk: "Without character, nothing counts."

******************************************************

It is in the end his character which makes Donald Trump so unfit to be our nation's President.