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28 Jan 2010 My Three-letter Worldview: Part 3

In Part 1 of this series, I discussed the irreducible facts of existence and identity, how God is the ultimate picture of these concepts, and how we are shaped in that image.

In Part 2, I went on to discuss the role of relationship and the value I believe God places in human freedom.

In this section, I’d like to talk about the tools we use to govern those choices – what we call “rights.”

In the Declaration of Independence, the founders of the United States claimed that rights are “endowed by our Creator.” While I believe this to be true, I do not believe my interpretation of how rights work to be dependent on a theistic worldview. Nor do I believe that this salient quote from our founding document tells the whole story. I believe rights are given to me by God . . . but what are they??

This has been the subject of many a debate over the years since the concept of “rights” was first envisioned. Prior to the Declaration, it was assumed that rights were bestowed by virtue of birth based on nationality and class – the “rights of the nobility” or the “rights of Englishmen” or the “Rights of Roman Citizens.” The Declaration was both an extension of, and a break from, that viewpoint. It broke from the view that governments can have a say over what your rights are, or are not. At the same time, it held to the belief that rights are innate – they are something we are not given, they are something we are born with.

Their vision of rights was not universal – minorities and women were excluded, but this was a factor of the prejudices of their time, rather than an inconsistency in their beliefs. Indeed, the worldview they espoused were later used to extend to those same excluded groups the rights they were initially denied.

So that’s where our notion of rights came from, but the question still remains – what are they??

Here is what I believe: I agree with our founders that rights are something we are born with, not given. I believe rights are the means by which we make the choices we have available to us. I believe, in fact, that they are an extension of the two axioms of existence and identity. That is, because I exist, and because I exist as a unique, independent individual capable of cognizant choice, the ultimate arbiter of what I do with that existence is . . . me. This is what I meant in my last segment that God values humans’ ability to make choices for ourselves. Has He expressed a desire for us to choose certain things? Yes, but ultimately, He has given us the freedom not to do so.

So here I am, an extant individual . . . existence and identity . . . in a world full of extant individuals. As such, I believe all the rights in the universe boil down to one. Ultimately, there is a single, basic right. The right to exist!

From my previous blog posts, you can easily tell, then, what I think that right entails. It is my right to live as a individual, free to engage in relationships with other individuals as I see fit, and to make the choices I see fit to make. From this basic right flow corrollary rights. I have the “right” to choose how I relate to that world – how I act, how I think, what I say, who I associate with, and how I spend my time. Freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of press, freedom of association, freedom from illegal searches and seizures, freedom to defend myself against attacks . . . all of these extend from that one basic right to exist.

That is not to say that I have the “right” to do whatever I choose, if that choice infringes on the rights of another to do as they choose. For if relationships are the points at which our “selves” touch one another, and if choices are the ways in which we interact, then rights are the boundaries between those independent selves. I have the unlimited right to do whatever I choose to do with my body, my abilities to think and communicate, and my time . . . right up until that choice infringes on your right to do whatever you choose to do with yours. As the cliche goes, my right to swing my fist ends at your nose.

This concept of rights is more inclusive than some . . . for example, it negates the old adage about “shouting fire in a crowded theater,” because it places the responsibility on the hearer to be aware of his or her surroundings. If each person in that theater bears the responsibility of both making informed choices – rather than running around in a panic – and respecting the rights of others, then I have the freedom to shout away all I choose.

But this concept of rights is also less inclusive than some. President Franklin Roosevelt spoke of four freedoms – Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Religion, Freedom from Want, and Freedom from Fear. I would submit that he was half right . . . or more precisely, that only half of these are “rights.” Freedom of Speech and Religion are, indeed, a result of simply respecting one another as individuals. However, the so-called “freedoms” from want and fear are really the opposite – they are not freedoms, but demands. “Save me from shortage!” . . . “Save me from fear” . . . “Save me!” The difference is this: I believe that my rights make no demands on another except to do nothing. My freedom of speech does not demand that another stay silent . . . only that they not interfere with my speaking. My freedom of religion does not demand that another believe what I do . . . only that they not attempt to control what I believe. My freedom of association does not demand that another associate with me . . . only that they not attempt to stop me from associating with whomever I choose.

Contrast that to the vision of “rights” espoused by FDR. Freedom from want, freedom from fear. These so-called “freedoms” are not freedoms at all. The demands they make are on me . . . on you . . . on us as a society . . . to step in – to interfere.

I’ll say more about rights in my next post.

Author: Mike | Category: Ideas I came up with totally on my own, Ideas I stole from somebody else, but improved on, Things most people will disagree with, Things most people would agree with if they really thought about it, Things that will convince you I'm a godless heathen, Things that will convince you I'm an anarchist, Things that will get me excommunicated, Things that will piss somebody off | Leave a Comment

27 Jan 2010 My Three-letter Worldview: Part 2

In Part 1, I began exploring my three-letter worldview. I discussed what Ayn Rand calls the “Axioms” . . . the indisputable, irreducible facts . . . of Existence and Identity. I discussed how I believe these concepts originated with the God of the Bible, and how they are reflected in His creation – in us – with the three letters, “I Am.”

But what do those three letters – those “axioms” really mean?

Simply this:

Existence exists, therefore something exists. That ”something” is divided into distinct, identifiable entities. But these entities are not only distinct, they are conscious.

This is the final of Rand’s three axioms: Existence, Identity, Consciousness. Again, it is an irreducible fact. “How do you know consciousness exists?” . . . I know it because without it the question of its existence cannot be asked, or even considered.

We are, therefore, distinct, identifiable entities with distinct consciousnesses operating independently of one another. Independent existences. Independent selves. You. Me. Everyone.

So what?

The existence of independent selves implies some sort of relationship between those independent selves. What, then, is a “relationship”? The word is used to mean different things – that which we call a “ball” is often said to have a relationship with that which we call the “earth,” in that they are both round. A “cat” is often said to have a relationship with a “tiger,” in that they are similar species with similar traits.

I would submit, though, that these are imagined relationships. They exist only as theoretical constructs in the minds of conscious individuals.

I would submit that a true relationship – one that exists in both the conceptual and material world – can only exist if both parties to it are conscious of it. Any two individual selves who are conscious of one another’s existince have SOME sort of “relationship.” That relationship can be characterized in many different ways: friendship, hostility, fear, apathy, love, worship. All of these are different characteristics of a relationship . . . different ways of relating.

I believe humans are specifically, and uniquely, designed for this kind of relationship . . . the kind which is conscious, deliberate and real. In Genesis, God specifically states that, “It is not good for man to be alone.” I believe what He said is true for all men and women.

Relationships, then, are the points at which two conscious, independent selves intersect. How those selves interact is by means of choices.

Choices are not unique to relationships . . . a conscious being has a choice about how he or she interacts with other, unconscious beings or objects, as well. We make choices every day – every minute. Which socks should I put on this morning? What should I eat for lunch? Should I read the news or watch TV? Usually we make these choices without a second’s thought . . . and sometimes without any at all.

I believe that, in addition to existing in relationships, humans were created to make choices as well. Genesis Chapter 2 records the very first pair of interactions between God and the first of His human creations. The first is when he commanded Adam not to eat of the tree in Eden. The second was when He brought the animals to Adam. In both cases, He placed Adam in a position where Adam had to choose.

It is the first of these choices that I’d like to focus on. It is the choice He offers here that I believe tells us more about God than perhaps any other in Scripture – not so much for the choices He gave Adam, as for the fact that He gave Adam a choice at all.

A different kind of god – one who did not create Adam for choice – would have simply created an automaton, told it what to do, and left.

Yet another different kind of god – one for whom choice was acceptable, but not of paramount importance – would have simply created Adam in the idyllic Eden and left the tree out.

This is how I know, with absolute certainty, that the God of Scripture finds value in the human ability to make our own choices.

In my next post, I’ll discuss how this leads to the concept of “rights.”

26 Jan 2010 My Three-letter Worldview: Part 1

Ayn Rand, as she often does in my opinion, puts it best . . . most succinctly.

“Existence exists.”

It is a reformulation of Descartes’ “I think, therefore I am,” but it is somehow more complete, less problematic, more . . . satisfying.

“Existence exists.” It is one statement that brooks no counter-argument, for to even make a counter-argument presumes the statement itself. To argue with this simple statement is to concede the argument before it begins.

How do I know existence exists? The answer is, “if it doesn’t, how are you even asking that question?”

Existence, then, is not an assertion, a theory, a postulation, an argument. It is a fact.

From this indisputable fact of existence flows another – Identity. If you refuse to acknowledge that existence exists, then there is no point in . . . well . . . anything. But if you acknowledge that fact, then you have to acknowledge this: something exists. Something is allowing you to even have these thoughts . . . to even read this blog.

That ”something” is identity. At this moment, you are reading something I have written. It is the first you’ve read it – the first time it has entered your mind. But it entered mine first, because I wrote it. That, in and of itself, is a demonstration that I am not you, and you are not me. We are separate individuals, rather than a great, amorphous It.

You may think this is self-obvious . . . and indeed you are right! But just being self-obvious is not enough. It has to be considered, because it is the basis for everything else.

How do I, as a believer in Christ, reconcile my worldview with that of a rabid athiest like Ayn Rand?

Easily, in fact . . . because God did it first.

In Genesis, God asserts that humanity is created in His image. Entire volumes have been written around the question, “What did He mean by that?”

Here’s what I think:

There is one time in Scripture where God is asked to identify Himself, and complies with the request. In the single instance we have of God telling us who He is, His answer is three letters. “I Am.”

I believe that is the image in which we are created. How could you possibly capture the concepts of existence and identity?? “I am” proclaims existence, while “I Am” identifies that which exists.

As I said before, Ayn Rand didn’t come up with this idea on her own . . . she merely distilled what was much, much older.

God says, “I Am” . . . and because I am created in His image, I am, too!

Existence exists. . . . I exist!

What does that mean?? . . . That’s what Part 2 is all about. Stay tuned.

02 Feb 2009 When “Real” isn’t Good Enough

It was, for me, the best part of the Presidential inauguration two short weeks ago. The speech was decent, the poetry atrocious, but the music . . . oh, the music . . .

As a violinist myself, I have for most of my life looked up to Itzak Perlmann as the unmatched master of my craft. Yo Yo Ma enjoys similar status atop the world of the cellist. I’m not as familiar with Anthony McGill or Gabriella Montero, who joined them on clarinet and piano, respectively, for a rendition of John Williams’ “Air and Simple Gifts.”

I remember discussing the piece afterward with my wife – a professional violin teacher and freelance performer. We wondered if they were using special carbon fiber instruments that are better able to hold a pitch – or if not, how they managed to play in such bitter cold.

Well, as the world now knows, they didn’t. Or rather, they did, but that wasn’t what the rest of the world heard. We heard a prerecorded version created a week before, comfortably indoors.

To say that I was disappointed would be an understatement. I’ve performed in the bitter cold myself, when the wind was whipping around and trying to take the music off the stand in front of me, and when my fingers were so cold that they didn’t want to work properly. Their music, while gorgeous, wasn’t difficult at all to play – particularly for musicians who are undisputedly the best in the world at what they do.

But they faked it anyway.

Then yesterday, I watched the Super Bowl between the Pittsburgh Steelers and the Arizona Cardinals – two teams I care very little about. Though it was a pretty exciting game, I was more interested in watching the commercials and sharing the time with my wife’s family. The one highlight, for me, was Jennifer Hudson’s national anthem. Her stirring rendition was made all the more moving given the fact that it was her first time back singing in the national spotlight since the tragedy she suffered back in October with the brutal triple-murder of her mother, brother and nephew.

Except that it wasn’t. Like Perlman, Ma and their colleagues, she had recorded the anthem in advance. It was beautiful, to be sure, but the fact that it wasn’t HER . . . or rather, that it was her voice at another place and time . . . stole something from the moment.

These instances were both accompanied by breathless exclamations of: “My goodness . . . we couldn’t have had them perform live! Can you imagine? . . . something might have gone wrong!”

“Why is this such a big deal?” you might ask. “It was their instruments! It was her voice!” And you’re right. It’s not like this is Milli Vanilli, whose 1990 Grammy Award for best new artist was revoked when it was discovered that their talent was for lip-synching, rather than actual singing.

It’s not the same thing, but it’s part of the same problem.

The Wikipedia entry for Milli Vanilli says:

[Milli Vanilli producer Frank] Farian chose to feature vocals by Charles Shaw, John Davis, Brad Howell, and twin sisters Jodie and Linda Rocco; however, he felt that those singers lacked a marketable image. Thus, Farian recruited [Fab] Morvan and [Rob] Pilatus, two younger and more photogenic model/dancers he found in a Berlin dance club, to front the act.

Farian’s mindset, and that of the folks who produced the inauguration and the national anthem, seems to be symptomatic of a larger ailment that plagues our culture in this era of technological and philosophical advancement.

I’m as geeky as the next guy when it comes to the technological conveniences of 21st century America. I have an iPhone, a Facebook account and (obviously) a blog. I use all three of them with gusto.

But the problem arises when we allow these technologies to serve as a substitute for reality . . . a surrogate for what IS.

This mentality has permeated every area of our world. Our entertainment industry has been overrun by those who insist on having one more plastic surgery . . . on losing five more pounds . . . on looking like concentration camp victims in real life, simply because “the camera adds ten pounds.”

Reality isn’t good enough.

In the world of medicine, the reality of how our bodies feel and behave is subjugated to “the labs” . . . the all-important diagnostic tests that may or may not be accurate, may or may not be reliable, may or may not yield any valuable information about what ails us.

Then these often questionable test results are used to justify pumping us full of made-up substances designed to treat made-up problems that are more often than not mere symptoms of the very real problems that plague us. These underlying problems are largely due to the choices we make in our lifestyles and our diets . . . but a pharmaceutical company can’t make money by pressuring doctors to prescribe organic vegetables or grass-fed meat. Sit-ups don’t come in pill form.

So they give us cholesterol and blood pressure meds instead.

Reality isn’t good enough.

Speaking of food, how about that breakfast you had this morning? I’m betting that for most people across the country, it went something like this:

Two eggs, bought from your local supermarket and produced by pen-raised hens who have lived on genetically-modified corn their entire lives, rather than the grass, grubs and other things their stomachs are actually capable of digesting.
Two strips of bacon, preserved and colored by nitrates and nitrites, which form nitrosamines (a carcinogen) once they get into your body.
A bowl of cereal comprised of what was - at one point, perhaps - fairly healthy wheat or oats, but has been processed and manipulated so much that all the good stuff has been cooked, pressed, ground, fried or leeched out of it. Then, of course, in order to make the stuff palatable, they have to add high fructose corn syrup, or at least (if you’re lucky) sugar, which has of course been similarly processed.
A glass of “fruit beverage” that roughly resembles grape juice, well-laced with high fructose corn syrup, of course, because our American palates have been conditioned to think that the fructose in actual fruit isn’t sweet enough.
If you’re the really conscientious type, you may have had an apple, which probably found its way to your table from an orchard that was covered in toxic chemicals to keep the bugs off. Because unlike those of us who actually EAT such things, insects are smart enough to realize that poisons are very specifically and efficiently designed to make things dead.
Perhaps you topped all this off with a pancake or two . . . which probably came from a box, doused in syrup that alleges to be “maple,” but is actually mostly high fructose corn syrup. You may have even added a dollop of “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter (TM).”

Because reality isn’t good enough.

Before you think that I’ve suddenly decided to go out and join my local chapter of the Sierra Club, those folks could use a healthy dose of reality too. They are, after all, the ones who have perpetuated the myth of man-made climate change (by a variety of different names) for decades now, based on climate models that even John Theon, a former NASA executive who was responsible for all weather and climate research in the agency, says are completely unreliable.

Reality, after all, isn’t good enough.

This is true even in the way we relate to each other. I think about my coworkers, for example. I spend a minimum of 40 hours a week cooped up in a small aisle of cubicles with about half a dozen other people, and to be perfectly honest, I don’t really know most of them. We talk, certainly, about the weather, about our mortgage and rent payments, about our pets and our phones, our weekends and sports teams – all the safe topics. But just watch what happens when anyone brings up something REAL . . . even something only superficially real like politics. Oh my gosh! We can’t have that! People might, well, take it personally, or get offended, or by golly, we might not agree!

Every once in a while I’ll get a glimpse of who the people I work with really ARE . . . like the time a coworker and I travelled to Japan together on business, or the time four of us went to give a presentation in Fort Hood, Texas. On such occasions, people tend to open up a bit more . . . to reveal a bit more of themselves.

And I have to tell you . . . as it turns out, I really like the folks I work with! I wish I could see more of that side of them, more often.

But I can’t, because reality isn’t good enough.

This is often true, even in our very closest relationships.

Phones, email, text messaging, instant messages and Facebook are all great tools for keeping in touch with one another . . . but too often we use them to substitute for actual relating. I enjoy reading the status updates my friends post on Facebook, but that’s not the same as going to dinner with them and sitting down for a good conversation. Unfortunately, I happen to live in an area, Washington D.C., where most folks place a lot more value on “doing” than they do on “relating” . . . and as a result people are more often than not too busy to have dinner, or coffee, or hang out for an evening or a weekend.

So we settle for checking up on each other on Facebook.

Because reality isn’t good enough.

Alas, this has even become true of our most important relationship . . . our relationship with Father.

I am reminded of an article I read early last year, by Darrin Hufford over at Free Believers. Hufford’s provocative article calls the average “relationship with God” a “spiritual porn addiction.”

Talk about reality not being good enough! As a former porn addict myself, I can attest quite vividly to the allure of the fake reality that pornography offers. Hufford goes further, though. He points out that the spiritual “high” we get from those “mountaintop experiences” at religious conferences, worship services, etc. are much the same thing. I’ve been to those conferences. I’ve had those experiences. I’ve loved every minute of them . . . they are, after all, exhilarating. The term “spirtual high” is fitting . . . it’s one of the most moving and uplifting things I’ve ever experienced.

The problem is that we idealize those experiences . . . and we condemn ourselves for the “low patches” that we feel between them. We come up with an endless stream of ideas for bottling up that feeling . . . you know, that feeling . . . the one you get when you’ve just finished a group conversation with God, and you know, beyond all doubt, that he was an active participant in the conversation?

But those experiences are not the same as the day to day work of living in the world He placed us in. Even Peter felt the allure of the “mountain top experience” of Christ’s transfiguration, and wanted to do something to permanentize it . . . to institutionalize it . . .

Hufford extends the analogy into the average church service, saying:

The majority of our Christian lives were spent watching the Christian play at church, we have grown accustomed to sitting through the show and demanding to be entertained. Every spiritual facet of the “personal relationship with God” has been caked with makeup, airbrushed, pumped with steroids, injected with botox, sprayed with perfume and stuffed with implants. In the end, we’re left with a “Glam Shot” perception of “relationship” that is about as real as a fifty dollar blow-up doll. It’s perfect for the theater, but when it comes to a real, one-on-one relationship, it’s just impossible.

There’s nothing wrong with mountain top experiences . . . nothing wrong with the incredible spiritual experiences that come with dedicating an entire day, or an entire weekend, to seeking God. The problem, as Hufford points out, is when we come to expect that those mountaintops define what a healthy relationship with God is. The problem, he very vividly says, is this:

The addiction to these spiritually accentuated concepts is almost identical to an addiction to pornography – some people can’t get aroused without it.

Why? Because reality – the reality of a God who is just as present in the depressing, or disappointing, or boring moments of life – just isn’t good enough.

Author: Mike | Category: Ideas I came up with totally on my own, Ideas I stole from somebody else, but improved on, Posts you wouldn't watch if they were on TV, Things most people won't understand at all, Things that will convince you I'm a Democrat, Things that will convince you I'm a godless heathen, Things that will convince you I'm a Republican, Things that will get me excommunicated, Things that will piss somebody off | 3 Comments

29 Jan 2009 If this doesn’t scare you, you’re not paying attention

This story is quite bothersome to me. Indeed, it seems that the author has specifically written it to be bothersome to her readers. I suspect, though – given that her audience is the liberal blogging community “Huffington Post” – that they are not likely to share my reasons for concern.

An excerpt:

“The high-flying execs at Citigroup caved under pressure from President Obama and decided today to abandon plans for a luxurious new $50 million corporate jet . . .”

Oh, the horror. These uppity executives – fresh off a government bailout – are now spending your money and mine on a new jet. Well, we can’t have that. Good thing the new sherriff in town just called them up and told them to “fix it.”

. . . except that, as it always is, the real story is more complicated than that.

If one reads the actual article from which this HuffPo writer is getting her ideas, one sees the following:

“Citigroup had argued it was selling two of its four other planes to pay for this one, that the new jet would be more efficient and, besides, it had already signed a contract for the jet. Breaking that deal would cost the bank millions in penalties.”

So let me get this straight. Instead of selling off two old, inefficient, probably less-environmentally-friendly jets to buy one newer, more efficient one, this troubled financial institution will break its contract and lay out millions of dollars in exchange for . . . nothing.

Why? Because “The One” has spoken.

This is, to me, the most disturbing piece of the whole episode. No laws were passed, no regulations were signed, no hearings were held . . . the President just had his spokesperson call up these guys and tell them to “fix it.”

. . . and as a result of his demand, a major U.S. company altered a multi-million dollar business decision and backed out of a major contract.

That, my friends, is scary. I thought we lived in a (relatively) free market society.

From the article again (as the ABC news writer apparently can’t resist injecting a little political commentary into his “news” story):

“It doesn’t help to win votes when corporations appear to use taxpayer cash on luxury perks and outsize bonuses for Wall Street titans.” (emphasis added)

There you have it. The White House has to keep up appearances, and the free market be damned! It doesn’t matter that the federal government had no business shelling out your money to save these companies in the first place (and this extends to both the Bush and Obama administrations, and both parties in congress – all of whom are equally to blame).

Frequently over the last year or so, I’ve gotten the feeling that when I am old, I will look back and fondly remember the America I used to live in – an America which . . . particularly with this week’s latest $800 billion-and-up boondoggle . . . is rapidly spending its way out of existence. We can debate endlessly the question of whether financial execs really need a corporate jet at all . . . but at the end of the day, that’s for their stockholders to decide, not the President.

Author: Mike | Category: Ideas I stole from somebody else, but improved on, Things most people will disagree with, Things that will convince you I'm a Republican, Things that will forever ruin my hopes of running for office | Leave a Comment

17 Jun 2008 How much freedom will we settle for?

It’s been a long time . . .

Those who have access to my facebook page will see that it says I have been writing again, but they wouldn’t know it from looking at this blog. That is largely due to the fact that my writing, of late, has not been for public consumption . . . at least not yet.

But today I read something and simply couldn’t stay silent any longer. It came from one of my favorite daily reads, someone who seems to be going through a journey very similar to mine – my virtual friend, David Hayward, also known as “Naked Pastor.”

He wrote a post called “Kinds of Choice,” that literally made me almost come out of my chair with joy that someone else gets it . . . truly gets what I feel each and every day. There are so few people with whom I get this feeling . . .

His article, though he may not realize it, takes on a growing notion that has been making the rounds in political circles of late – the notion of “libertarian paternalism.” In the words of eminent legal scholar Cass Sunstein, libertarian paternalism is the notion that “private and public institutions might nudge people in directions that will make their lives go better, without eliminating freedom of choice.” According to Sunstein, “The paternalism consists in the nudge; the libertarianism consists in the insistence on freedom, and on imposing little or no cost on those who seek to go their own way.” Sunstein’s principle paper on the topic, written with behavioral economist Richard H. Thaler, is entitled “Libertarian Paternalism Is Not An Oxymoron.”

With all due respect to Sunstein and Thaler, yes it is . . . and Hayward’s post does an admirable job of explaining why.

Libertarian Paternalism is predicated on the notion that any system or institution will, as a matter of course, “nudge” those within it – either intentionally or unintentionally – in a given direction. Sunstein argues that

because default rules and starting points often matter, institutions can’t avoid nudging people — and hence can’t avoid a kind of paternalism, or at least a nudge. If 0% of take-home pay goes to savings, it isn’t because nature so ordained it.

He uses this logic to argue that, since systems “nudge” people anyway, they might as well deliberately do so in a desirable direction. To wit, “[An] example is the automatic enrollment plan, by which workers are automatically enrolled in a savings plan, but can opt out with no trouble and at no expense if they choose to do so.”

Hayward’s thoughts center on the system of the modern, organized church. Whether he intends it or not, they form a very effective counter-argument to Sunstein and Thaler’s philosophy. Hayward says,

What is being offered to the church today is a multitude of choices . . . we are being told that when we select one of these choices, we are making a free choice. And we feel as though we are free when we make our selection from among the several choices.

This is not perfect freedom . . .

Hayward goes on to distinguish quote the philosopher Slavoj Zizek, in distinguishing between “formal freedom” and “actual freedom.” The former, he (Hayward) calls “Reinventing ourselves within the prescribed parameters.” This description perfectly captures what we are encouraged to do in so very many areas of life. Consider:

In education, we are encouraged to consider “school choice,” or even to (in an especially radical notion) homeschool our children [full disclosure: For those who don't already know, I was homeschooled myself] . . . but only if we do so in a system where we literally turn our home into a school, complete with grades, class schedules, tests, and “approved” curricula.

In (American) politics, we are encouraged to “choose” our preferred candidate – from a pool of two nearly equally distasteful options.

In medicine, we are encouraged to consult a variety of medical experts and get a “second opinion” on what might be wrong with us in a given situation – but heaven forbid that we should do our own homework and self-diagnose a problem that can’t be discovered by an almighty Doctor with a lab coat and stethoscope who deigns to take ten minutes out of his busy day to read our lab charts and choose a diagnosis from a laundry list of possible maladies that roughly correspond to our symptoms.

In news, we are encouraged to read newspapers, listen to network news broadcasts, watch cable news shows, listen to news radio, or even be especially daring and get our news from our favorite network’s website. But far be it from us to bypass the gatekeepers at CNN, or the Associated Press, or the New York Times, and get our news from “alternative sources” . . . even when those alternative sources do a much better job of providing real news analysis (and in some cases, even original news reporting).

In religion, where Hayward concentrates, we are encouraged to seek out any one of an ever-increasing number of formal denominations with which to worship . . . but the one time that these institutions of religion will take a time-out from their interminable squabbles with each other and actually agree on something is when they hold the Bible over their heads and invent out of whole cloth a commandment nowhere found in its pages, demanding that we at least “go to church” somewhere.

These all fall under what Hayward calls “the illusion that this formal freedom is as good as it gets in life.”

And libertarian paternalists would love to convince you that such “formal freedom” is all you need. After all, if, like Hayward, you disdain to pick between equally undesirable choices . . . if you are not content with simply choosing from different options within a system, and would rather leave the system all together, then the likes of Sunstein and Thaler lose any ability whatsoever to control you short of the brute force they claim to wish to avoid.

Herein lies the problem. At the root of it all, a libertarian paternalist – or a teacher, a politician, a doctor, a news reporter, or a pastor – still believes in his or her heart of hearts that they know better than you do what is best for you. And because they know best, they should be allowed to compel you – either through brute force, or through subtle “choice control” – into doing what they already know is best for you. The systems and institutions in which they operate – schools, governments, hospitals, media outlets and yes, churches, are all designed with one all-encompassing principle on which their survival depends . . . the principle that they can continue in existence by doing you just enough good so that you don’t realize they’re expending all that effort in order to tell you what to think.

There is an infuriating arrogance to it all. At the root of all this, for the so-called “libertarian paternalist” is the very un-libertarian notion that he or she knows what is best for you and me, and that he or she will deign to look down, make the choice for us, and then guide us – ever so gently – toward that choice.

And it is in the realm of religion – Hayward’s forte – that we discover just how insidious this “soft paternalism” really is, for having laid down the weapon of brute force with which to accomplish their desired outcomes, they are left with the even more insidious weapon of shame. Educators, Politicians, Doctors, Newsmakers (a more accurate term these days than “News Reporters”), and Pastors are all – as a class – adept at using this weapon to demonize, marginalize or belittle those who are not content to pick from within their institutions one of a variety of bad options, and who opt to leave the system all together. My wife and I can personally attest to this in every single one of these five areas. Shame is a moral concept, but the amoral can use it just as effectively.

And it is all the worse for being so seductive. Those who wield shame as a weapon often do not realize they are wielding any weapon at all – witness Glenn Reynolds, an eminent libertarian blogger, saying that the solution to people who do not follow his desired course of action with regard to vaccinating their children ought to be “shamed” for it. Seemingly swayed by the same logic that persuades Sunstein and Thaler, Reynolds refers to this as the “libertarian solution” to what he sees as the problem of declining to vaccinate.

Just imagine . . . what if the solution to this or any other action that affects nobody but the person doing it was to simply do as you please, and let them do likewise??

This, to me, seems the essence of what Christ meant when he urged us to “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

Author: Mike | Category: Ideas I stole from somebody else, but improved on, Things most people won't understand at all | 11 Comments

19 Oct 2007 Ecclesiastical Orphism

Last night, my wife and I had a delightful evening out at an orchestra concert, but the object of our evening outage was no ordinary orchestra.

The fare for the evening was the world-renowned Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, which happened to be visiting the Strathmore Music Center in Bethesda, MD, where Heidi often freelances with the National Philharmonic Orchestra.

This was a very special night, shared with a very special group of people. Orpheus is, quite simply, a joy to watch. Their philosophy of music and of life is evident with every note.

You see, unlike the vast majority of “normal orchestras” – even world-famous ones – Orpheus has no conductor. There is no “leader” standing up at the front of the stage waving a stick, giving orders to the performers on stage, and taking responsibility if something goes wrong.

Rather, this group operates by what it calls “The Orpheus Process,” described on their website thus:

“Instead of one person taking on the orchestra’s artistic responsibility and leadership, we share leadership throughout the membership of the orchestra. Each piece sees a different concertmaster, rotating principle musician chairs, and a sharing of ideas and inspirations. This empowering formula creates a dynamic setting where each musician takes artistic ownership of the performance, not just his or her own part. When we feel personally connected to the music, we know you will too.”

Indeed, that connection was obvious – inescapable, even. Each musician was personally invested in every note, every movement, every breath that escaped the stage.

As an amateur musician myself, I’ve performed in a number of low-level orchestras. As a professional violinist, my wife has performed in more advanced settings. I’ve never experienced anything close to what I saw on that stage, and according to her, neither has she.

Normally, the conductor chooses the music, interprets it, and then coaches the orchestra into performing his interpretation. Normally the orchestra members have a responsibility to follow him, and to pay attention to their section leader and their stand partner. Normally the section leaders have the responsiblity for coordinating and leading the other members of their sections.

That framework means nothing in Orpheus. Yes, there are section leaders, but they rotate for each piece. Yes, there is even a concertmaster (The section leader of the First Violin section in a traditional orchestra, arguably the “lead musician” on the stage, underneath the conductor.) But when it comes time to prepare for a performance, each musician is fully invested in the art the group is crafting. The section leaders are rotated for each piece. A violinist might be the concertmaster for one piece, sit near the back of the section for another, and watch a third from off-stage if it calls for a smaller number of violins. The music is interpreted, not by one person, but by the whole ensemble, through a collaborative rehearsal process that gives each musician a chance to examine the piece from both inside and out, and to provide input to the group.

Similarly, where a normal orchestra receives its cues from the conductor – starting and stopping based on the movement of his baton – Orpheus might take its cues from the concertmaster, or the oboe, or the section leader of the string bass section . . . all in the same piece of music, depending on where the melody is at any given point in time. The music is almost organic – cues come from the people responsible for the particular phrase of music being played at that point in time, and each musician is keenly aware of the other 40 or so musicians on stage at every point in the piece. They have to be, or the whole enterprise would collapse.

I found myself musing, as I watched them play, “This is what the church should look like . . . “

The traditional, institutional church has followed a very similar path as the traditional, institutional orchestra. In the beginning, neither had a “conductor” in the true sense. The early church was led by learned men who agonized over the interpretations of what they perceived to be the words of God. Similarly, early orchestras were led – if not by the composer of a given work himself – by the concertmaster . . . the most learned and experienced musician among them.

Over time, both institutions began to travel a different path. Rather than a musician being both a part of the orchestra, in addition to being its leader, the role of “conductor” became a “special” function – set apart from the rest of the people on stage. It became the conductor who solely interpreted the music, who solely took responsibility for its successes and failures, and who solely accepted the applause of appreciative crowds.

Similarly, in the church, the “vicar class” was born. Bishops, Priests, Pastors, and other roles were invested with meaning well beyond that found in scripture, or invented from whole cloth – meaning that set them apart from “normal” members of the flock – the “laymen.”

Where the conductor was responsible for interpreting the intent of the composer, these “pastors” became responsible for the interpretation of God’s intent. Where the conductor’s shoulders bore the weight of the orchestra’s success or failure, the pastor’s shoulders bore the responsibility for the eternal souls of his parishoners. Where the conductor was glorified when “his” orchestra performed well, the pastor became the object of special status – including promotion in the new ecclesiastical hierarchy – depending on the “performance” of “his” church.

Orpheus, to me, is a symbol of where the church is going. I cannot speak for all believers, but I can speak for a small but growing portion of us. We are steadily wearying of the so-called “experts” who impress upon us their interpretations of God’s will with less and less justification. Instead, we are turning to relationships – the same sort of relationships that I saw on that stage last night.

Think of the incredible amount of trust those musicians must have in one another. If a single person falters, the whole performance suffers. If a single person even fails to communicate – fails to cue the others when beginning a new phrase, fails to hear or see what another part of the ensemble is doing, fails in any way to either understand the other musicians, or to make him or herself understood in turn – what was a glorious piece of music a moment before is suddenly a cacophany of mere noise.

In the same way, believers should be able to trust one another. If we all have the same goal in common – the joy of a life lived with Christ – I should trust that my fellow travellers on this journey are living that life as best they know how, and I should expect them to trust me the same way. None of us should be due any individual credit for any “kingdom” successes – the reward belongs to the body of Christ. The tapestry that is created when the body of Christ lives and works as an organic entity – all parts in relationship with one another and working in their unique and separate ways toward the common goal of seeking to know God – is truly a work of art . . . one even more stunning than that created when 40 musicians trust each other enough to get out on stage and create something beautiful together.

Just like the Orpheus process, participation in the body of Christ should be, and is, an empowering process. It does require an incredible amount of investment. In a traditional church setting, I could sit back and let some pastor tell me what to think. Outside of the traditional church framework, I cannot do that. I am responsible, any and every day, to truly “give a reason for the hope that is within me.”

I can’t just regurgitate some talking points or a list of scripture verses. In the same way each member of Orpheus has to know what they think of the piece being played, I have to know what I believe about the God I walk with.

It is a big responsibility – and one I don’t always live up to. There are too many questions I continue to ask myself, and to which I don’t know the answer. There are too many times when I still find myself reciting a party line, rather than giving coherent thought to a question.

I want more for myself – demand more from myself.

I want a life – a faith – that looks like Orpheus.

Author: Mike | Category: Ideas I stole from somebody else, but improved on, Things most people will disagree with, Things that will convince you I'm a godless heathen, Things that will get me excommunicated, Things that will piss somebody off | 6 Comments

14 Jun 2007 Radical Individualism

Some friends of ours have recently been transitioning into the tradition of Eastern Orthodoxy, and have written extensively about it here. It’s been interesting for me to observe for a number of reasons, primarily because it seems like they, along with other friends of ours, are seeing many of the same issues we see within the modern, western, evangelical church, and have responded by taking a track roughly 180 degrees opposite the direction we’re headed – that is, a track toward more liturgy, tradition and structure.

As I said, it’s been interesting to watch. I’m glad they’ve found something that seems to be fulfilling for them, and that seems to bring them closer to a relationship with God. I do have some thoughts, though, on why our path has been different.

I think Brooks, the author of the earlier linked post, hits on the heart of the journey my wife and I have been taking, at the very end of his post, when he says,

Of course, one can’t simply decide which Church is right by its spiritual practices. Choosing the East simply for these reasons would have been subjective and, to speak plainly, radically individualistic (Protestant) of me. So, with reluctance, I turned toward the doctrinal and theological differences between East and West, realizing that Apostolic authority, Tradition, and ecclesiology were ultimately the more important factors in this dilemma.

I’d like to break this down in sections, because I think Brooks is getting at some very important things in this paragraph.

First, he puts up a dichotomy between choosing a church based on spiritual practices, or based on doctrinal and theological differences, apostolic authority, tradition and ecclesiology.

In examining this dilemma he’s constructed, I have to ask, What’s the point?

What is the point of choosing a particular church?

It seems to me that the point should be exactly what Christ asks of us . . . an eternal relationship with Him. If a church or other spiritual setting does not further that relationship, what is the point of being there? Brooks hints that this is one of the things he longs for when he talks of some of the Eastern traditions, and says of them that “the goal . . . is an experiential knowledge of God.”

God wants us to experience Him. That is the entire point of His touching our lives as He does.

What, then, of Brooks’ dichotomy? Spiritual practices or traditions and theology?

To my mind, a relationship – any relationship – is about daily interactions. My relationship with my wife is not based in the theoretical constructs of marriage, the history and traditions of marriages through the years, or the authority of church leaders who define marriage for us . . . it’s in the day to day actions that draw us close to one another, and by which we profess our love for each other, to each other, and to the rest of the world. Yes, we engaged in a (marginally) traditional wedding ceremony. Yes we got a marriage license from the District of Columbia. But that is all secondary to the relationship we have with one another.

Why should our relationship with God be any different?

While this may seem that I’m taking the opposite side of Brooks’ dilemma, in truth I think he’s created a false dichotomy. My relationship with my wife is not merely the product of the things we do. . . it flows from who we are. Yes, this results in certain actions, but the actions are not the point. In the same way, even the “spiritual activities” in which I engage are not the point of my relationship with God.

They flow from who I am – His redeemed heir, created in His image.

For myself, then, when the choice is between choosing a spiritual environment based on either “spiritual activity” or “theology, history, and ecclesiology,” I choose neither.

Perhaps that’s why I don’t go to church.

I think the difference here flows from divergent understandings of what a relationship – in its most intimate sense – really is.

I recall, not too long ago, a conversation my wife and I were having with some good friends of ours, about the nature of intimacy. In response to one friend’s question about what intimacy is, I replied, “it’s knowing somebody as deeply as you possibly can.”

My wife disagreed, and when she explained, it opened up a whole new world of thinking to me. She said, “intimacy is knowing yourself as deeply as you possibly can, and sharing that whole person with another.”

After having several months to reflect on what she said, I think this is what God calls us to. I think believers tend to focus so much on others that we lose bits and pieces of ourselves. Over time, we become shadow people – the same kind of person I mentioned becoming myself, in my story of my journey away from traditional church. Certainly God calls us to care for others. Certainly, He calls us to sacrifice ourselves . . . but how can we truly “present our bodies a living sacrifice” if we don’t know what – or who – it is that we’re giving?

In the same way, if I believe that a relationship with Christ is all about knowledge of Him, then of course things like ecclesiology, theology and church history are going to be of utmost importance to me.

If, on the other hand, a deep intimacy with God involves knowing myself, and offering that self wholly and completely to Him, then those things fade in importance, and what becomes most important is a deep and exciting adventure to discover who He has made me, and what He continues to do in, for and through me each day.

That, I believe, is the relationship God calls me to.

This leads directly into the second issue I have with what Brooks wrote. For when one looks at the issue as Brooks does, one cannot help but come to the conclusions he does – for when he says that making a choice in that fashion would be “subjective” and “radically individualistic” he is exactly right!

My problem here is with his degredation of “radical individualism.” First, he decries this as a Protestant characteristic. I disagree. Perhaps it is more Protestant than it is characteristic of the Catholic or Orthodox traditions, but the simple truth is that each denomination with which I have had any experience (and these have all been protestant) is just as hostile toward “radical individualism” as Brooks seems to be here.

Again, I think this stems from the different understandings of intimacy. When intimacy is about knowing others, the collective becomes the most important means of relating to Christ because our understanding of Him is only fully achieved when we are subordinated to that collective.

When, on the other hand, intimacy is viewed as knowing and sharing myself, the importance of a collective does not disappear – after all, I must have someone to share myself with – but the importance of the self as a created likeness of God, in whom He is continuously at work, becomes the key to an intimate relationship with Him, and with other followers of Him.

Now that, dear friends, is a radically individualistic concept – and one for which I am utterly unapologetic. I am a radical individualist.

Perhaps this is why I don’t find myself fitting anywhere in a traditional church setting. It’s not necessarily that I take issue with the theology of every church I’ve visited (though that’s certainly true in some cases.) It’s not necessarily that I disagree with the spiritual practices in which they engage.

The truth is that I just can’t handle being subordinated to the collective of an institution. It flies against not only everything I believe, but against who I was created to be.

I was created to be Michael John Daniels – writer, musician, thinker and friend. I was not created to be “that guy in the third row who sings in the choir, helps in the nursery, and is an occasional usher.”

I am not what I do. I am who I was created to be.

I have heard many sermons on the nature of “body life” . . . you know, the ones that say “everybody needs to take part in the body by doing the things they’re good at doing in service to the body. After all, the hand can’t live by itself, nor the foot, nor the eye . . . ”

You know the drill. I’m sure you’ve heard many of those same sermons.

But the truth is that, while we were created to be the body of Christ, that characterization extends so much deeper than most of those sermons assume. I am part of the body of Christ, not because I clean up after services or play my violin for the offering, but because He has chosen me and given me unique gifts.

I am part of the body because I am me . . . and only by being fully myself – as fully as I can possibly be – can I use that to serve others.

I am reminded of the old Sunday-school ditty “Jesus, then Others, then You . . . what a wonderful way to spell ‘JOY’.”

But the truth is that genuine joy in relationship with Christ, or with others, can only come when one is fully aware of oneself first.

After all, Christ did say “love your neighbor, as you love yourself.” I find it hard to believe that the one who loved the entire world would use that word “love” lightly enough to mean what we have surely all heard that it means. “You’re selfish enough that you always do what you want for yourself . . . so now do those same things for other people.”

I don’t know about you, but for most of my life I have been terrible at making wise choices for myself. My life has certainly not been characterized by much in the way of “self-love.”

Perhaps that’s because what most people think when they hear the words “love your neighbor as yourself” is “love your neighbor at the expense of yourself.”

No wonder we think so little of radical individualism. To my mind, the body of Christ could use a major infusion of it.

Author: Mike | Category: Ideas I stole from somebody else, but improved on, Things that will piss somebody off | Leave a Comment

01 Jun 2007 Conversations with myself . . .

Our dear friend Kelly wrote a two part post on her blog “Restless Heart” yesterday, entitled “Who I Want to Be.”

It’s a great post, and her opening words struck me deepest. She says, “I tire of the constant mental/emotional energy wasted on seemingly consequential issues. I am sick of fighting, sick of division. I am weary of encountering misdirected passions for everything but what really matters.”

I know exactly what she means . . . I grew up in a religious culture that directed its passions toward a large number of issues that were divisive at worst, irrelevant at best and exhausting in all cases. I work in a job that requires me at times to manufacture passion for things I don’t really care about . . . and I’ve worked in such jobs for a long time.

There are moments when it feels as though my only outlets for passion about things I really care about are my relationships – particularly that with my wife – and this blog.

But Kelly’s post got me thinking . . . and eventually, engaging in a sort of running dialogue with myself.

“what is it that really matters?”

“God.”

“Ok . . . fair enough . . . why?”

“Um . . . because He created you, you ungrateful twit.”

“So?”

“So that means He matters to you just a tad.”

“Why? . . . how do I know He cares?”

“Because He said so.”

“How do I know some ancient prankster didn’t just make that up?”

“How do you have the mental capacity to ask that question?”

“. . . hmmmm . . . so you’re saying that because I can ask that question, He must care enough to have given me the mental faculties to do so?”

“not exactly, no.”

“What then?”

“He gave you a choice.”

“. . . huh?”

“He gave you the choice whether to believe what He says, or not. If He truly didn’t care, there are a few things He could have done differently:

A. He could have set the world on its course and abandoned it to the laws of physics.

B. He could have just created a pretty blue-green ball to play with, with lots of little robotic, funny-looking ape-like creatures for His amusement.

C. He could have decided that the whole idea was a waste of His time and energy and done nothing at all.”

” . . . ok . . . and . . . ?”

“And He gave you the choice to believe either that he took one of the above courses of action, or a different one, or whether or not He even exists.”

“ok . . . ?”

“So he cares about you so very much that He wasn’t willing to just create a little action figure for Him to move and twist in whatever form He saw fit. He cares enough to give you a part to play in the process of the story He’s writing for you. He gave you a choice! So what really matters, matters at an even more basic, more visceral level than what you choose is the simple act of choosing.”

. . . I had now given myself some serious food for thought – enough so that the conversation in my head terminated itself abruptly. I think it was confused . . .
But does this not make perfect sense, given what we know about who God is? It’s precisely because of this notion that I think the whole debate over predestination versus free will is so . . . pointless. Certainly, scripture teaches that God is sovereign. But just as often it implores us to “believe,” or “follow,” or “repent,” or “come,” or myriad other such things.

God wants desperately for us to make a decision! Naturally, He wants us to choose to follow Him. This, Christ made pretty clear throughout His ministry. However, It is also clear that there are many different ways of doing so.

I was thinking through all of this, and reading through some random scripture passages, when I happened on Romans 14, and on an interesting passage I hadn’t considered in this light before. The beginning of the chapter reads:

“Now accept the one who is weak in faith, but not for the purpose of passing judgment on his opinions. One person has faith that he may eat all things, but he who is weak eats vegetables only. The one who eats is not to regard with contempt the one who does not eat, and the one who does not eat is not to judge the one who eats, for God has accepted him. Who are you to judge the servant of another ? To his own master he stands or falls; and he will stand, for the Lord is able to make him stand.”

It really doesn’t sound much like Paul thinks God puts a whole lot of stock in dietary laws, does it? It seems that what Paul wants the Roman believers to do is quite simple – respect one another’s choices.

All well and good, right? After all, I’ve sat through many a long, boring sermon about how eating meat offered to idols is my choice (though usually the point of the sermon is that I shouldn’t do it – or any other, such “iffy” behavior – because it might offend somebody).

But the passage goes on:

“One person regards one day above another, another regards every day alike. Each person must be fully convinced in his own mind.”

hmmm . . . so you mean that God doesn’t really care whether we consider Sunday, or Saturday, or any other day particularly “holy”? You mean that it’s Ok for some to honor Sunday as “The Lord’s Day,” and for others to . . . well . . . not?

That, it appears, is what the passage says. The Fourth Commandment . . . and Paul says it doesn’t matter a whit.

Why? Because that’s not the point! The passage continues:

He who observes the day, observes it for the Lord, and he who eats, does so for the Lord, for he gives thanks to God; and he who eats not, for the Lord he does not eat, and gives thanks to God. For not one of us lives for himself, and not one dies for himself; for if we live, we live for the Lord, or if we die, we die for the Lord; therefore whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s.

The point is not the behavior, it is the choice . . . not the choice to eat meat or veggies, or to go to church on Sunday . . . the choice to follow Christ.

I’ve seen so many people get passionate about behaviors . . . do this, don’t do this, go here, don’t go there, spend time with this person . . . but not with that one . . .

Kelly’s right. There’s no point to it.

What, though, about the choice to wake up each day and engage in an eternal relationship with the one who gave me life . . . twice!! . . .

. . . now there’s something I can be passionate about.

Author: Mike | Category: Ideas I stole from somebody else, but improved on, Things that will piss somebody off | 2 Comments

30 May 2007 The Illusion of Control

There was a time when powerful leaders in particular cultures could control large swaths of their respective societies with utter impunity, and when the people being controlled had no choice in the matter. That time has passed.

Wikileaks.org is a site recently begun with the intent to be “an uncensorable version of Wikipedia for untraceable mass document leaking and analysis.” According to its authors, “It combines the protection and anonymity of cutting-edge cryptographic technologies with the transparency and simplicity of a wiki interface.”

The God Journey, as many of our readers know, is self-described as “an ever expanding conversation of those living outside the box of organized religion.”

The American Broadcasting Company is one of the “big three” U.S. television networks.

Myspace is a worldwide, incredibly popular social networking website.

Amazon is a global, online bookstore.

And yet, each of these organizations, with each of their very different missions, and very different (though sometimes overlapping) audiences, shares a very important position in modern western culture.

Together, and with millions of other individuals and organizations, they are demonstrating to the world, one example at a time, that modern western culture’s time has passed.

Humanity has seen many eras and cultures rise and fall, but a trend-line is visible when they are set against one another. The earliest civilizations had rulers with the absolute and completely arbitrary power of life and death over their people, and the people had no alternatives. Then, ancient civilizations like Babylon began to craft law codes to make the controls exercised by the rulers, and the actions taken by the people, less arbitrary and subjective.

Then Greco-Roman culture added the concept of a popular voice in the decision-making process. Though imperfect, and at times merely notional, this was a sea change in terms of control.

With the birth and ministry of Christ came the idea that one’s soul was his or her own to control – and to dedicate in service to God or to reject Him, rather than to be tossed around by the whims of the mad and capricious deities followed by the cultures in which Christianity was born.

The Reformation furthered that belief by positing that the Roman Catholic Church did not have the sole right to mediate the relationship between God and His creation.

The birth of the United States came with the notion of government by the consent of those governed.

The women’s suffrage and antislavery movements expanded that notion to previously subjugated segments of society.

The civil rights movement asserted that mere freedom from enslavement was not enough – that all should be equal in the eyes of the law.

So it is that we find ourselves today on the cusp on another movement. Like those before it, this movement is about control.

Wikileaks – the website I mentioned earlier, was originated to ensure the ability of individuals worldwide to pass information back and forth free of censorship from their respective governments.

The God Journey is an adventure in relationship with Christ free of those who wish to control that relationship from within the walls of some traditional churches.

ABC News last week posted yet another “classified” program discovered through a leak from anonymous sources within the U.S. intelligence community – this time about a “finding” by President Bush authorizing covert action against Iran.

Myspace is one of thirteen sites recently blocked from being accessed on .mil domains – those owned and operated by the U.S. military. While the reason given for the ban was a potential for future bandwidth concerns, there is widespread suspicion that it is also connected to operational security – the ability of the military to control information from its members who used the thirteen websites.

Amazon began as an online bookseller, but has become much more. First the company began to allow users to sell their own used books through its website. Then it began to sell other products in addition to books, and to allow others to do likewise. Now, among other ventures, the site offers on-demand publishing, characterized as “inventory free fulfillment” which allows users to self-publish, and immediately begin marketing and selling their own work. Our friend Kate Bowen did so, and her book In Bonn is now available on Amazon.

These are just a few examples, but it is definitely a growing trend. Modernity was the day of the middleman; of the specialization of labor. It was the time of the “expert.”

That time is passing.

What do we call this new period into which we are entering? Some call it “postmodernism,” but that seems, to me, to be merely another way of saying “we don’t know what to call all this.”

I think it needs a new name, separate from the baggage that the word “postmodern” has accrued. Time alone will tell what that name might be.

Terminology aside, however, the simple fact is that you and I are getting harder and harder to control – that in fact, such control is merely an illusion, right up to the point at which we assent to it.

. . . which is the problem, isn’t it? All too often we don’t even realize we have assented. How many times in your life have you uttered the words “I don’t have a choice”? I know I have, far more than I now care to think about.

But the truth is, in nearly all cases, we do. I might think I don’t have a choice but to go to work in the morning . . . but I do. Each day I choose to go to work and earn a living that helps to support myself and my wife. I could just as easily choose to find a different job, or choose to find some way of employing myself, or choose to make less and live in a smaller house . . . or choose to walk away from it all, for that matter.

It’s an empowering realization, because once I begin examining my life through the lense of my own choices, I realize that this is, indeed, the life that I have chosen . . . and that I rather like it. Even in the worst of times, it is better than many alternatives. It has made me realize that I do not have to allow so-called “experts” to tell me, among other things, what to think about world events, how best to care for my body, or how to connect to God.

The simple fact is that experts might (arguably) be right a majority of the time, but they will be wrong sometimes. When they are, there is undoubtedly somebody out there with the right answer, and all I usually have to do to find it is run a reasonably thorough search through Google and compare all the different viewpoints I get.

I am done looking at the world through other people’s filters. My own are hazy enough without introducing the additional, inevitable subjectivity that comes whenever somebody else attempts to force us to see something “their way.”

All of this brings us back to the websites mentioned at the start of this post. Each, in its own way, is working to increase the number of viewpoints available to us. Each is part of the reason we live in an era of choices like none that has ever existed before. Some, like ABC News, have tried to play the role of middleman, working with other news organizations to tell us what to think . . . but their day is coming to an end as well – just look at the explosion of news-related blogs, some of them even producing their own original reporting from places like Iraq. There is even a news service that exists to provide content for bloggers, just like the Associated Press and other wire services do for “mainstream media.”

In other cases, there are outside forces who attempt to wrest control from some of us. I cannot access MySpace (or YouTube, etc.) from my office because I work on a military installation. The military has also attempted, recently, to clamp down on soldiers blogging on day to day life during deployment.

Such efforts will probably be successful, for a time – but the ABC story is proof that even the force of federal law against release of classified information is not enough to protect a story from getting out. If that’s the case, how can the military expect to control bloggers in its ranks?

This whole situation presents a host of opportunities, but it also comes with its own set of challenges. The simple fact is that when it comes to the information era, it is easier to operate as a small, agile entity than a large, clumsy one. For this reason, the U.S. government is losing the War on Terror (if I may use a term that has fallen out of favor), and it is losing that war on the Internet.

It is a new, multidimensional threat. How does a government as ungainly as the U.S. address such a threat? I don’t know, but it is certainly not by attacking any country in which terrorists are plotting against U.S. assets, or by attempting to root out and arrest terrorists wherever they might be hiding. Those methods might (arguably) have worked once. They do not work any longer.

Perhaps there is no response. Perhaps this is another chink in the armor of a nation-state system that seems to be failing. perhaps the answer is to plod along as best we can as nations until something better, more agile comes along.

That, it seems, is our choice. The future is up to us.

Author: Mike | Category: Ideas I stole from somebody else, but improved on, Things that will convince you I'm an anarchist, Things that will piss somebody off | Leave a Comment

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