Everyone's told doubt is a dream-killer, doubt is cowardly. So everyone strives not to doubt, and they end up stupid.

The secret, if I know anything about the secret, is not to eradicate doubt at all. Invite doubt. Throw open your doors to not knowing entirely. Welcome so much doubt that you get used to it; learn to stop reacting to it with such panic or dismay or overwhelm.

Doubt is everywhere, forming crevices in every thought, belief, feeling, sensation.

You can't get rid of that any more than you can get rid of air.

Yet sometimes an airlock is good, sometimes a ziploc bag, sometimes a vacuum cleaner, and so on.

Give your immune system something to work on. Pick up dirt. Do a Tarot reading, read the science paper behind the findings. Talk to someone who has little idea what they're saying, but thinks you need instructing. Use Wikipedia and ChatGPT as if they're as good as a textbook, check a textbook as if you were embarrassed to include it as a source.

Mix it up.

Keep track of the fact you don't know, but a lot of stuff is true and a lot of stuff is false, and there's skill to making the bet which is which.

You think you can do better than that?

Probably not.

I'm not saying I've said what there is to know about dealing with doubt, about using critical thinking, about checking sources.

But I think you need to embrace doubt, not run from it.

Society will try to make you think you're worth less. And you'll have trouble dealing with the feeling society is right.

But you're on a better track than the usual one, and it'll show.

Today I want to talk about consilience versus rumors.

For example, compare two claims - both of which might be true or false.

1) Haitian immigrants have been eating their neighbors' dogs and cats in Springfield, Ohio.

2) A Big Bang occurred at the start of the universe.

Both of these claims may be maintained as beliefs by the frequency of bumping into the claim. That is, multiple sources seem to make the claim, and these sources might be independent. When we hear something repeatedly, especially from different sources, we often, perhaps gradually, begin to vibe with the belief.

I do not know for a fact, personally, whether either of these happened.

So how can we proceed beyond admitting what we don't know for sure?

First, ask yourself why you believe - or don't believe - each of these two claims. If you can, put a number to each one, a percentage probability.

Here are my spur-of-the-moment numbers:

1: 25%

2: 67%

I don't claim any correctness. It's just how I'm feeling at the moment.

Ok, so we have numbers, but we haven't really justified them, so they might as well be random digits.

I'm sure some of you think my number for 1 is high, and my number for 2 is low. I know you're thinking that.

The point is I have no first-hand evidence about 1, so I have to contend with multiple professional fact-checkers versus the former president and an actually reasonably articulate mob on Twitter who say they have seen "dozens of videos" that "prove" claim 1. Many were initially skeptical but became convinced. I do not want to dive through such videos (some are gruesome). If it matters either way, I'd rather wait for the wisdom of crowds and the wisdom of experts to reach a consensus. This is a case where I really do not want to do the research myself. It's more about curiosity than about proving a point; I don't think the validity of claim 1 makes a significant difference, but there may always be some value in accurate verification or falsification.

Generally, I would consider someone describing all fact-checkers as in cahoots to be an addle-minded paranoiac. But amid claims that everyone has become too polarized (which I agree about) and that leftists have our heads in the sand about immigration and the truth of what Trump says (well, on the immigration, that might apply to me), I want to be cautious.

Simply ridiculing the idea that Haitians are eating cats and dogs provides zero evidence. People who are trying to dismiss the claim on the basis that it sounds absurd - sounds just like the usual, hateful tripe out of Trump, only a bit worse this time - are not making solid evidence-based statements. They're mainly persuading others and themselves.

I do not find it implausible that Haitian immigrants have eaten pets in this country, given that this is done in Haiti. And if it could well have happened somewhere in this country, it could have happened in Springfield, Ohio.

Now, I've looked at the original post that got JD Vance's attention and then Trump's and then, regrettably, everyone else's. That post was traced back to a woman who admitted she'd heard a rumor and was speculating, and has since felt bad and made an apology. Still, to be thorough, just because it's no more verifiable than a rumor doesn't mean it *didn't* happen. It just means that we essentially have to acquit for lack of further evidence.

There are multiple other leads with varying degrees of believability, including verified incidents that involved pet eating (by a white person) but not Haitians. We must admit that if a white person can eat a pet, a Haitian might have. I can't rule that out, however wacky it sounds or hatefully motivated the debate moment was.

The fact checks tend to amount to "there have been no credible claims," meaning that nothing has been proven - we can't prosecute the case further, in a metaphorical sense - any reports there may have been, we have to acquit based on lack of solid evidence.

Ok. Phew. We're getting to my point now.

For many, the *number* of *seemingly plausible* stories or leads will amount to *definite proof*. Even though each one may, on inspection, fail to amount to solid evidence, taken as a constellation of data points, they will strongly suggest that something's going on. "Where there's smoke, there's fire," many people like to say.

This does resemble how science works.

However, to really appreciate how science works, we need to tease the details apart a little more.

Many scientific theories have essentially been "proven" by what's called "independent, converging lines of evidence." A simpler way to say that is "consilience."

When people encounter many reports of cat-snacking on Twitter and feel that therefore claim 1 must be correct, they probably feel that they are responding to "independent, converging lines of evidence." Multiple stories from different people who don't know each other (independent lines) are consistent with the same overall picture (converging evidence).

For this extremely effective method to work, though, we need to be extremely careful about what we call "independent" and what we call "evidence."

For example, if most of the stories are coming up by way of Trump supporters, they may come from different people, but those people do happen to share a motivation, and these days, someone might even have deep-faked the video.

Similarly, if we watch video evidence that someone was eating a pet, how sure are we that it is occurring in the time and location asserted? If someone in the video looks Haitian... do we know they are?

If we watch 100 videos of people who seem Haitian appearing to eat pets, any of our assumptions could be off about any or all of them.

For any piece of evidence that cannot be confirmed, it is a mistake to assume that it brings a fractional, cumulative amount of truth. It might bring none at all. Each one might bring none. Evidence might not be accumulating while rumors and reports and "proofs" accumulate.

If after consideration we deem that each of 100 videos is 1/20 likely to be real, this does not mean that, after watching all of them, we are (100)(1/20)=5, or in other words completely certain 5 times over, that claim 1 is true. Not how it works!

When each story is no more fully confirmable than a rumor - and, yes, even video evidence can match this description, given that we do not know what part of space and time, if any, the video depicts - then we cannot say that the many rumors add up to proof. Many rumors can easily add up to nothing, no matter how many there are.

I understand this mistake in thinking, because I know that thinking in a technical way is tricky and error-prone. But it's better if we're all aware of that.

Again, I don't actually know about the truth of claim 1, and my 25% guesstimate is just an easy number to toss out there. It includes (for example) the possibility that just one Haitian immigrant ate just one pet in Springfield Ohio at some point this century, it was never reported, and the rumors we are hearing are separate and false, but this thing still happened in the last 24 years (I'm making up that time limit to stay specific). It might have! Just saying. (Arguably if it happened just once, "They're eating the cats and the dogs..." is false, as it implies many incidents, but we'll let that go and be as generous as possible to the claim.)

As for the Big Bag, sometimes laypeople - and lately, increasingly scientists, I think - will observe that we don't have any definite proof that the Big Bang happened, even though we have many pieces of evidence that range from hinting to strongly suggestive.

The evidence for the Big Bang takes many forms (or so I'm led to believe, having seen a few). These arguments can allegedly be made independently of each other (and they at least seem independent to me as well).

It's important to remember that science does not actually prove any claims directly. All it can do is vigorously fail to disprove claims.

We cannot prove that no (0) pets were eaten by Haitians in Springfield. Proving a negative is famously nigh impossible. The best we can do here, along the lines of proving nothing happened, is vigorously look into it, as well as we can, yet despite our earnest and thorough efforts continue failing to disprove that nothing happened (double negative, eep). That's the closest we'll ever get to proof: we looked really hard and didn't find any fire behind the supposed smoke.

The same goes for science and the Big Bang. We probably can't indisputably prove it happened. But we can vigorously fail to disprove it for a long while, via many approaches, until we're kind of exhausted and we shrug and accept that the Big Bang does seem to have happened.

If the claim of pet eating had been accurate, we might have expected any of these:

• The person who made the meme gave details about when and where the pet was eaten, and by whom.
• JD Vance defended the claim as definitely true.
• Springfield police and other city officials such as the mayor acknowledged it.
• Fact checkers reported it happened or the jury was still out.
• Reliable news agencies reported on the story as a fact.
• The Ohio governor, who is from Springfield, said it did happen or might have happened.

These are likely results of a real incident along these lines that draws attention.

Yet none of these things are happening (though I can't vouch for all news stations with Fox News at large).

We look for the smoking gun behind the smoke, and we keep coming up blank.

Now, maybe some of the reports and video evidence is real.

Once again, I insist I do not ultimately know. But I can talk a bit about how evidence combines.

Multiple independent, converging lines of evidence - if this is taken very seriously - provide the closest science gets to proof.

But what we humans often do informally when we hear multiple reports is not that. When we aren't super careful, our belief can amount to nothing more than magical thinking.

Multiple doubtful pieces of evidence do not automatically add up to credibility. Yet our minds often want to believe they do, for reasons that have to do with how we evolved and the very real power of what's called Bayesian statistics, the statistics of uncertain contingencies based on networks of evidence.

This is the best explanation I can give at the moment of an extremely important aspect of thinking about the "facts" you're given.

Remember: rumors versus consilience. They're not the same. What you're trying to find is actual consilience. That means different, unconnected sources using different methods - as many and as different as possible - pointing, perhaps uncertainly but with thorough credibility as to what they do have, to the same conclusion.

A lot of what's wrong in the human world occurs in the simple act of careless accusation. As the modifier "careless" suggests, there are good and bad ways to accuse. In politics, perhaps most are bad.

Politicians compete, so they try to make their competitors seem like utter nitwits and maniacs.

We already have a tendency to handle blame with too much hyperbole. Politics energizes this into a frenzy that all too often (throughout history) has become socially harmful and then violent.

The good news is this is simply not necessary.

If a person is causing serious harm, we should remember that the person is one of millions. There is no way that person cannot be overpowered and safely contained.

Even Vladimir Putin, for example, is only such a danger because he is surrounded by people who let him.

Fighting bad decisions rarely involves actual fighting - or, rather, rarely requires that.

Even in a real emergency, a tranquilizer dart can take care of most craziness.

We have this attitude that to face up to what we really don't want and cannot accept, we must become extremely accusatory. We must show - nay, prove - that we are against vileness itself.

We don't like inflation? We must call Biden - or Trump - a total disaster.

It doesn't work like that. Balanced, fair criticism is much more effective than judgmentality verging on demonization.

Now, one place this can get more complicated - so far, I think the message is uncomplicated, though not necessarily easy to follow - is with ideas themselves. There are some common ideas that simply aren't accurate or helpful. It can be frustrating to see so many people fall prey to these ideas and their promoters.

I personally think it's totally fine to attack an idea as false, misguided, delusional, nonsensical, etc.

Many people, though, will take these attacks as personal and maybe even kind of vicious. They will feel you are calling them idiots.

If you have a chance to interact with them, you can show that it's the idea you oppose, not particular people.

But this is a point of nuance that takes a lot of care.

(It's something I do not usually find difficult, but it has taken practice.)

It would be straightforward enough to advise pretending that even ideas are people and have some feelings - this is sort of true by proxy, because people out there will identify with them, and feel attacked and disliked if you treat the ideas harshly.

Maybe that's even the best approach.

I might not be the best person to take that approach; I have an ethic that says you are absolutely allowed to attack my ideas if you do not attack me personally, and I'll even do my best to appreciate seeing ideas I believe in roasted.

Do unto others: I think it's fair, and I expect others to think it's fair enough.

But I know many don't feel that way, or haven't thought about it quite as I'm portraying. And that's understandable. We certainly can't all expect to have all the same thoughts.

Instead of vilifying people, attack ideas. And instead of making war on ideas, imagine they are people with some feelings, and be a little more compassionate and balanced in your critiques. Idea, behavior - same thing, more or less.

Bad behavior is comparable to a stupid idea that someone happens to strongly believe.

Try to treat them similarly in terms of your mental engagement.

We usually have to allow people to maintain stupid ideas because they are free to think what they want. And if bad behavior is not outright illegal, we often have to allow it to some extent, though we may object, call it out, etc.

But both of these rules have limits.

Sometimes we need to intervene and save someone from a stupid idea.

Sometimes we need to get in the way of a behavior so it doesn't happen, or can't continue.

Do you see the difference between this description and how people accuse political leaders, coworkers, etc, whenever they're unhappy about some result?

I would like this more precise, more effective mindset to spread.

When one political party becomes opposed to truth, as a general theme, with ignorance and stubborn denial appealing to its adherents more, it ceases to be a party worthy of participation.

It is no longer the formidable counter to another interpretation. It is simply a dead weight around its own neck. It's a carcass slowly rotting in a closed room from which other members of society desperately wish to escape.

That is today's Republican party.

I'm convinced Republicans have had it more wrong for at least my entire adult life.

In principle, I would rather not identify with any political parties. I don't like political parties. My inclination was to be an independent. My inclination was also to dislike and avoid politics generally, given the stupidity and pettiness of what I saw.

The problem is I'm an independent who ends up seeing it the Democratic way so often that I'm more Democratic than many Democrats.

I want to be realistic. I want to see what's true. I want the best solutions for the worst problems.

I don't want to be infected with groupthink.

What I see from Republicans is an endless stream of denialism. They can't seem to face the modern world. They can't seem to accept what's there.

They insist on clinging to every idea that becomes outdated for so long that it's embarrassing to almost everyone, maybe even to them.

Put that away. It's well past its prime.

You don't think gay people should have the same rights. You don't think trans people are real, or should be able to go to the bathroom without you assholes harassing them. You don't think the world is warming, and when it starts making you sweat, you don't think it's for the reason that is the reason it's happening.

What is wrong with this mindset?

And how can a political party be founded on it?

You complain constantly about national debt, and then you elect leaders who balloon it even more, and you say nothing, and you whine about it whenever the candidate is a liberal?

How is that smart? How is that even concerned about the budget?

I recognize that conservatives accuse liberals of being stupid and deluded, but believe me, I know a thing or two about delusions and stupidity. And I know a thing or two about two sides accusing each other of the same thing all the time. It's the world I grew up in at home.

I'm constantly trying to find the silver lining for conservatives. I want to find a smart, balanced, self-aware conservative. It's very difficult. In any case, when the topic is politics, it's very difficult. But even when it isn't, I find conservatism is connected with what psychological researchers say it's connected with - inflexibility of thinking, closed-mindedness, less education, more superstition, more xenophobia, more hostility. Those are not positive things. Those are not advertisements for the Republican party. It's difficult for me to find a lot of respect for those trends. A bunch of people who lack imagination band together and call it a party. Yip-dee-doo, good for you. And - no, I'm not full of admiration. Wish I were.

I'm not saying all conservatives are bad or dumb. But... what is with the Trump-worship? Could you find a *worse* poster boy? If you *really* wanted people like me to take your gang seriously, you could try to find someone more like Eisenhower. Everyone agrees he was a good president, and he was Republican. Even Reagan is miles better than this Trump fellow. What has gotten into you all?

For all your emphasis on traditionalism, you can't seem to find leaders who actually have traditional values. All you can find are leaders who have traditional stupidities. Haven't you gotten things a little mixed up? We want the bravery and heart of a Teddy Roosevelt. We don't want the ruthless corruption of a Hoover or the two-facedness of a Nixon or the racism of an Andrew Jackson.

Pull your heads out of the toilet. What made America great isn't the inaccurate feces you refuse to let go, it's the character you can't seem to recognize when it's under your nose.

All these sheepish Republicans here and there surfacing to say a few critical things about Trump, but then they get that look on their faces, turn up their noses, and say they could never vote for someone like Kamala Harris.

Why not? There's no very good reason for that. They try to give reasons, but they're hyperbolic, they're unsubstantiated, they're proven false. It's as if they desperately want to believe that she's a historically terrible option, rather than a competent woman doing the best she can.

What exactly would it take for you to respect a Democratic candidate? It isn't character. It isn't intelligence. It isn't an aptitude for solving difficult problems.

Your standards are so high that you don't have any.

Today I've seen a lot of polling analysis about whether candidates are "too conservative" or "too liberal." I understand that this is an overall impression and subjective, so we can't really expect much rationale.

But it strikes me as strange on two counts.

First of all, I spend almost no time worrying about whether a candidate is "too conservative" or "too liberal." Other criteria make my choices. So I have a bit of trouble putting myself in the shoes of strongly rejecting someone just because of where they fall on a spectrum like this.

Second, and this obviously is related to where I fall on the spectrum, I can see a vivid explanation of what "too conservative" might mean and why it's objectionable. Someone who's too conservative, kind of by definition, is resisting change. In government, if there are too many people who are too conservative, it's difficult to solve problems. No one wants to change anything. No one even wants to believe many of the new problems exist. They want to keep on doing things the same way. To me, this is self-evidently a quandary, a problem unto itself. In fact, it's a meta-problem: a problem with the problems, namely, it's the problem that people are preventing change that solves problems. Yet when I ask myself what "too liberal" means and why someone would react in a similar way, finding it self-evidently a bad thing, I... start drawing blanks.

It isn't that I can't imagine - or understand - or remember ways liberalism has been criticized. But what exactly is wrong with being not conservative, or even very not conservative, given the meta-problem I just described?

Sure, not all change is good, and not all efforts to solve problems in new ways are successful. It's even possible that trying to fix a problem makes it worse and creates other problems that weren't there before. Too true, and I have no difficulty understanding that. If you write code, that's your bread and butter. Absolutely: you go in to fix something, and it's difficult, and often things are worse after that, at least for a while, until you do enough clean-up or else revert to a stable copy (or, well, a less unstable one).

I suppose not wanting to change things comes from a sense of familiarity and even affection - liking the way things are - thinking they work well enough and that shouldn't be ruined.

But I don't know how people explain to themselves that just because they like how it is - or think they prefer how it was before - it must also be good for other people, or the country, or future generations of humans and other creatures. The one is not necessarily the other, and any normal person should know that and consider it an important distinction, a placeholder for angles known to others, a reason to be less predetermined and more fluid, keener to listen.

We all appreciate a number of advances in government that have been made over the centuries. Most of us would hate to go back a thousand years and endure what was normal then.

If we put aside nuclear threats, climate change, AI, aliens, and so on, we can imagine another thousand years of improvements. We can recognize that most of those improvements will come from liberals. Conservatives will oppose most of them. Eventually they or their descendants will appreciate the changes, but they at the time will object; they may almost need to be dragged kicking and screaming, to draw on a tired metaphor.

One twist worth noting is that I think many conservatives will have a big problem with this picture, and it isn't just that they are portrayed negatively. It's that they don't believe we have another thousand years of improvements available. They believe we've pretty much reached the end of the line, and we're doing about as well as we can do. They don't think 3024 would have to be much better than 2024. They'd mainly just prefer to see fewer liberals trying to mess things up. To them, that would be an improvement.

Now, maybe I'm getting it wrong. Maybe few if any conservatives see it that way. Maybe more of them have more futurism in them than I give them credit for.

Then again, they'd probably see the improvements visible in 3024 as the result of economic and technological growth, not the result of government self-improvement (other than, maybe, getting rid of the liberals).

What I'm getting at is: what year between 2024 and 3024, assuming it's a general millennium of improvement, is a bad one to aim for? What year's government makes you "too liberal" if that's what you believe in?

Again, conservatives may have trouble answering this question, because they may seriously doubt that much more improvement is waiting in the wings from updates to government.

But if you ask me, I think the improved 3024 system of government would be very different from today's, and would not depend on any of our current foundational government documents worldwide. I'm convinced voting and representation would work differently, and I'm not entirely convinced we'd be doing either in a recognizable way, though I do tend to believe we'd be doing both, just very differently, and better.

To me, "too liberal" sounds like "too enthusiastic about fixing problems," and that doesn't really compute (again, to me). Sure, if it ain't broke don't fix it; but anyone who thinks there's nothing to fix here, or nothing major, is living in a self-reinforced mental bubble.

So, maybe that's my bias. But it isn't as if I can't see other arguments, here. "Too liberal" can mean trying to move too fast. "Too liberal" can mean trying to move in a direction that looks shiny now but will end badly. "Too liberal" can mean showing too much of whatever personality or ideology or platform quirks are more common in liberals than conservatives.

Everyone who says "too liberal" or "too conservative" is probably thinking of a few stances in particular that they don't like, can't stand, stay up at night worrying about, etc.

If it sounds like I'm being unfair, consider that most people who consider a candidate "too liberal" will be conservative. That means they will probably be subject to the personality issue that they don't see these big problems that are worth fixing, or they see big problems, but they tell themselves these problems will be fixed another way, without government involvement, despite, often, those problems not being solved for centuries. In other words, liberals certainly make mistakes, but the ones calling them "too liberal" rather than just "barking up the wrong tree this time" are people who are too obstinately unwilling to change government practices, and probably not best qualified to give the criticism of when change is and is not appropriate. Centrists or liberals would have more experience actually changing things, and presumably could know better when a particular not-tried-here-before approach is, or is not, likely to end in success.

In short, I don't personally believe "too liberal" is a real problem. If we could bring in the improved government of 3024 today, then that would be good. And the sooner, the better. There is no "too quickly" other than logistical seasons to implement policies and get people used to the transition. If we knew the end goal, we could begin planning the tradition today, this hour, this minute. If that would save lives, improve lives, avoid ecological catastrophe, position us better to maintain peace amongst ourselves and with any extraterrestrials we might meet, then excellent. There is no such thing as the grand benefit of pretending there is no improvement or no solution when it is there; moving toward it, by whatever transition is smoothest and most practical and sustainable, is a positive thing. There is no "too liberal" in this scenario, in my view. The more the better. The less let's-change-nothing conservatism the better, though I think conservatives could be very useful with planning for a smooth transition and a new future normal, provided they accept a transition is getting underway.

Now, this is obviously only one interpretation, and, specifically, my own.

I don't think we avoid ducking down the wrong alleys in our attempts to advance society by strongly resisting all change. That isn't realism. That isn't practical. It's obstructionist.

We can only avoid the pitfalls of liberalism if conservatives aren't so damn conservative. We need the help of different kinds of minds. It's a problem when half the people sit on the sidelines sulking, claiming any change at all is immoral and stupid. That doesn't help. That isn't troubleshooting, it's being a pain in the ass.

Now, this is not a fair characterization of conservatives overall (who do have a lot to offer, and do a lot of good work). It's just an illustration of a key point I'm making. "Too liberal" isn't really the problem, and we don't minimize the dangers of change by resisting all change just because it's change.

In short, I would like to see conservatives doing a little more soul-searching, and realizing that they are part of what they're resisting.

I would like to see conservatism evolve into greater and more practical open-mindedness, while retaining the strategic strengths it's known for.

(I suspect it's a mistake to assume conservative and liberal, as we usually define them, are exact opposites and equally valid and necessary, but I also recognize that in many ways, or perhaps all ways, this may be the case. My mind is not closed to different possibilities there.)

I don't assume that a slight "lean left" bias in a media outlet *isn't* a bias. However, I don't think the political center implies a lack of bias. On the contrary, the right side of the spectrum seems to have little idea, collectively, about how to dismantle its own thought process and identify biases. The left side of the spectrum is hardly great at this, *but* they genuinely try to take it seriously.

I think creationists fighting evolution are doing the intellectual version of smoking bath salts. They're well off their rockers, or maybe they don't have rockers.

By comparison, criticizing trans people for being protective of their threatened human rights is pretty unfair. Yes, everyone is biased, and I've heard (what I consider) biased takes from many trans people and trans supporters. But I am a trans supporter myself; it's very important. Just because some biased things are said doesn't mean the entire perspective should be thrown out. That's especially true when we're talking about a threatened group. No one avoids some kind of boost in bias when perpetually threatened.

Does this mean that those on the alt-right are even more perpetually threatened, as they can't seem to see straight - or argue with intellectual honesty - on many issues? Maybe. But I think it's more in their culture to avoid asking themselves certain kinds of hard questions. Their worldview has seen too little competition (which doesn't mean the people weren't experiencing adversity), and now that it's being attacked from all sides, these people can't stand it. But the problem is their worldview really is backwards, however impolite it might be to say so out loud.

So no, left and right aren't equal, and the center isn't the absence of wrongness.

To me, a bit of a left lean is, more likely than not, the most accurate.

And I say that not as a moderate left kind of person, so there's give and take here. My point of view is: in two hundred years, the US Constitution should have been replaced, rewritten, or heavily modified. This isn't something I expect this year, obviously. But if we're going to fix a thing eventually, why not fix it sooner, before the problems get worse?

If I spent all my time campaigning for a US Constitution rewrite, I'd put a majority of people off, and they might not listen to the rest of what I say.

It isn't my top priority, either. But if you want my opinion on that, I'm very open to starting at the top and rewriting it. I'm also very open to getting rid of the notion of countries, if and when it's practical. I'm open to almost anything that could work - without preconceptions about whether it would work - depending on the evidence that it would indeed (or would not) work. You know? That is genuinely radical - in what I believe is a good way. But it isn't radical in a "let's set fire to the seat of government" way. It isn't radical in a "calling for violence" way. It isn't radical in a "everyone who's opposed is an idiot" way. It isn't radical in a "now or never" way.

It's just radical in that I'm fucking open-minded, and I'll think about whatever neat idea you have.

It's radical in that I'm constantly frustrated that - what I just said? - is not how I'm received myself.

People who think outside the box enough go through life observing a great stubbornness, from most, to even begin thinking. Everyone shoots down new ideas just because. Why? They're sure it can't work. Some feeling. And they have something better to do right now. Oh, if pressed, they'll present a rationalization, but that's the thing - you listen to the argument, you take it seriously, but it's just very half-assed. It's almost as if the person really *wants* to believe that thing you suggest won't work. They have no energy investment at all in reflecting beyond their knee-jerk reaction and rationalization.

That's the way of the world. That's what we get used to.

And it's radical not to be like that.

And it's wonderful not to be like that.

It occurs to me that I have not been wasting my life. Maybe not at all.

Sometimes it helps to be a tough customer (or costumer?): "I've done nothing today" could spur you.

Maybe more often, it's better to find more to notice: "I feel like I've done absolutely nothing. But what have I been doing? And why? Come to think of it I have done this, this, this, this, and this - all for reasons I still agree with. This other thing, and that, and that, feel like wastes of energy. Maybe next time I could try to remember this, this, and this."

The latter is usually much more motivating for me.

So maybe I will try to remember better how I'm *not* wasting my life, to encourage it.

There's a psychology idea I still can't put into a few clear words.

People say you may not be able to control events, but you can control how you respond to them.

The thing is, your entire perceived world is constructed in your mind, which runs autonomously, not unlike heartbeats and breathing.

You can't control what world you will *think* you're in as much as you think you can.

I can *tell* myself that tomorrow when I wake up and feel like hell, I just need enough caffeine to be normal and start my day. But tomorrow, the world I will *think* I'm in will be different. I will either not remember or not really believe this advice. I will feel it's all hopeless.

I cannot directly control that. At all. Right now, it's obvious: an acutely depressed state is to be expected (thanks to poor sleep and withdrawal effects compounding other problems) but I do know deep down, from real experience, that it can be worked around, and surprisingly quickly. Tomorrow, what I believe about it now will mean nothing. Tomorrow, I will be in a place where the despair is real. Where getting some caffeine does nothing to fix the disaster of my life—or maybe of life generally. That is how it will all *be*, possibly for hours.

Again, right now I can fully believe that all I need to do is remember to see past it. But I cannot directly control my brain state in advance.

*Maybe* we can choose (non-deterministically) how we react to things. But we can't, in advance, select the frame of mind from which we'll be reacting. We can't control the perceptions and memory activity that will construct an interpretation and a set of options.

People focus on this notion that we can opt from a metaphorical How I React menu. But we cannot ensure in advance what the menu will have on it. We can't even be sure it'll be there. Routinely we believe we can ensure both. In normal enough circumstances, the illusion holds. But with peculiar circumstances, say with a mental illness or neurodivergence or calamity, we experience that illusion breaking down into its components much more often.

Hence I know caffeine "recovers" me from the terrible depression of waking up, yet no matter how much I know this, in the moment, I often end up spending much, much too much time in that state. It is possible to "know" something at one time and, for practical purposes, "not know" it later, without having fundamentally forgotten.

Similarly, I can say right now that I dislike the idea of offing myself—that seems crazy—not at all what I want. Yet I can aver (I know this almost for a total fact) that soon, and probably within a day or a week, I'll be thinking about it very differently, and possibly as, maybe, the only bearable option. Right now, I hate the idea. But soon, apparently no matter *what* I think now, I will once again think that maybe that's the only thing that makes sense.

I can't figure out how to convey, without getting as repetitive as this is getting, how critical is this tidbit about the hidden forces implicated when understanding the world from inside a brain—as we all do. It's a thing you feel hard enough that you *know* it. Or else you maybe do not feel or know it at all.

To some extent it's what we run from when we adopt overly rigid beliefs. To get the sands shifting less, we'll confabulate superglue for the sands and call it our free (and yet, paradoxically, correct) choice. "The world I see is real because I stick to what I already believe and I fully choose how I perceive and interpret and react." Never mind that we have little idea what our neurons are doing.

What I'm trying to convey is that my optimism that I *can* and *will* be non-depressed, or let's just say energized enough to act, or organized enough, or aware enough of the next priority steps, has been proven, again and again and again, to be... a bit too optimistic.

I cannot simply decide now, or put myself into a configuration of will, such that every morning in the future I will get my caffeine or whatever remedy I need to not feel like hell and to function normally enough—without wasting hours worrying about how horrible and pointless life is, first. Nor can I simply decide to stop thinking of offing myself and never do that. I cannot seem to make such decisions in a way that holds with consistency because I cannot actually control the perceived reality, the "umwelt" as it's sometimes called, my brain will be constructing in the future.

And not just the distant future. Soon. Today. When I get home from work, what will I be in the right frame of mind to do? I don't know. I'm constantly planning on my drive home, telling myself how it'll be. It rarely works because, as it turns out, I don't fully control the perceived reality my brain will construct—the things that will seem most important, most urgent, most possible, most pleasant or unpleasant. These things shift for me quite a lot.

Because of that, I find it easy to understand other people who think, speak, or act weird. I know that we control our brains less than we think, and some people have the privilege of a brain that is more stable in this dimension, that dimension, or the other dimension. Everyone has stabilities. Everyone has instabilities. But there's variance in the population and through time.

Some people have not experienced enough instability to know that the world our brains will be constructing moments from now is not under our *direct* control very much if at all.

Sometimes drug experiences teach people this. But it's natural to go back to life and think if we aren't intoxicated, then the insight doesn't count; it's only when there's some reason we might *not* be of fully sound mind that we lack any of this control.

No. I posit that we always lack this control, but sometimes we are fortunate to spend a lot of time in relatively unturbulent waters.

I see people on their airline flights of life with relatively little turbulence (of the particular sort I'm describing), and they think their optimism is keeping the flight out of turbulence. But is that really true? They happen to be fortunate, not just optimistic, and they are taking credit for piloting by circumstances and inner weather conditions that they may influence but cannot specify.

Sometimes you have to more undeniably lose something—a capacity—and sometimes over and over—before you realize that it was never your creation in the first place.

You didn't create your mind. Your mind presents the options you choose from. It also guides the process by which you choose. Though it isn't bad advice, "I can choose how to react" tends to overlook biological magic behind the appearance of the menu and the activity of selecting.

I couldn't say this briefly, but I do think just now I have said it.

(Other thoughts: Questioning your beliefs might make you less stable, but not questioning them can lead to all manner of harms also. There seems to be little guarantee that firm belief precludes instability? But I'm speaking from perceptions here and also trying to avoid absolutes.)

On an evidentiary basis, I see no reason to take the Bible as instructions from the heavens.

On a psychosocial basis, I see many reasons to see people's faith as good-faith efforts. That is, I do not see religion as inherently malicious. Nor do I assume there is no wisdom to glean from scriptures.

But people who will try to talk me into seeing The Truth (ie, the Christian God) are as a rule not very good at arguing. They will always lose - not because I'm stubborn, but because if they were as skilled as I am, they wouldn't stick to their position.

If someone tries to convince you that there was never a moon landing, or that high-fructose corn syrup is a great health supplement, or that the earth is flat - do you anticipate that they'll win the argument with you? What about if you're especially informed on the topic, from various perspectives? But they mainly know the one, and don't seem to know how to play devil's advocate and critique what they would prefer to be true? Do you anticipate they'll surprise you and convince you?

No, because if they knew what the hell they were talking about, they wouldn't be taking this route, nor would they be at their current location.

Many Christians *think* they know what they're talking about, because they have studied their religion, and if they believe in it, which they diligently do, then it must be true, and this truth must be "showable" to others. And, sure, they *do* know about Christianity.

The trouble is that their study and their belief are not based on reliable evidence - this is even considered a feature, not a bug. They think it's a hurdle real Christians get over (and everyone *should* get over) in order to see the heart of the matter.

The problem is that the heart of the matter is not the heart of the matter. It isn't true.

It isn't an important quirk of Christianity that faith is required to "see it." No, it's a direct consequence of those not actually being the facts.

Sure, I could lie to myself. I could even lie to myself about lying to myself - so that I take this confabulation as a good thing, a great thing, a soul-saving thing, a testament to my love of the Creator who loves me, etc.

But the core facts of Christianity are not facts. It isn't some quirk or test that we can't prove them. We can't prove them because they aren't true.

Do I know this absolutely for certain? Well, before I answer that, let me ask and answer some other questions, which some may consider a detour for both delaying and dodging, but it is for neither. Do I know absolutely for certain that any groups of planets orbiting stars exist outside of the Solar System? Do I know absolutely for certain that our own Sol releases heat by nuclear fusion? Do I know absolutely for certain that my next door neighbor is not an alien?

No.

I don't.

There's little or nothing I know absolutely for certain. Usually, my handy go-to example of certainty is my name. Is my given, legal name Lyndon Goodacre? Yes it is. How certain am I of this? About as certain as I can be of anything. Yet could I somehow be mistaken? I could. That possibility I fully accept, without embarrassment or defensiveness. All kinds of strange things are possible. And, point of fact, I *have* had at least one dream in which my name was something else. In order for my name to be something else, all it would really take is for me to be dreaming. And I've definitely had dreams before in which I asked myself whether I was dreaming, and I concluded that, alas, I couldn't possibly be dreaming. Yet I was.

I'm about as convinced that the Bible's supernatural elements are fiction as I am of my name.

Sure, I wasn't there. So I'll extend extra uncertainty. But the stories - and the defenses of the stories - don't add up. The way people defend Christianity is not the way people defend the truth. It's the way people defend delusions. And this is extremely noticeable when you have enough relevant experience. 

ADHD means being cursed with less of the thing everyone agrees makes or breaks an intention: consistent application.

They talk as if this one thing you lack is just a choice equally available to everyone.

You watch as they lose respect for you. Their ethic is so founded on seeing what you lack as a simple moral, a thing chosen by the good.

If it's just a choice, those who make the effort of choosing it are to be admired - and successes will reward them - while those who do not make the effort and do not choose it are to be seen as deserving their failure.

Never mind that someone with ADHD may well be trying harder than others, even much harder, in some important senses. Who finds it easier to ride a bike, the frequent biker or the kid trying to get going for the first time, in fits and starts? Now imagine the fits and starts continue... and continue... and continue... and you can't quit... but everyone thinks you're hopeless or not trying or not worthy or whatever. And *you* think that, sometimes, because what else are you supposed to think? And your thinking it is contagious, so other people think it, and their thinking it is contagious, so you think it, and... you know, it's pretty silly.

Everyone agrees that what you lack is all it takes. And without what you lack, nothing will ever work.

I'm rarely surprised by the content of critiques of what I say, because I've already thought of it, heard it elsewhere, etc.

What usually surprises me is the rigidity of other people's opinions and the lack of coherent logic and evidence under the surface.

I feel like Socrates. Prod a little, and everyone's opinion crumbles to dust and they get angry. That's egotistical to say. But many people relate to Socrates, because many people still have his experience, because most people are still like the people he talked to in the famous dialogues. They think they're sure, but mainly they're sure because they're proud of having an opinion, and they really don't like to be challenged on it, despite what they say.

Now, we don't have to *enjoy* critique and the possibility that we've said something out loud that's just plain wrong.

Who actually enjoys that? Or much?

What matters is how we approach this, how we approach both sides of this coin when they arrive in conversation - when we should say something, when we should listen.

No one talks about the fact fairness is a ludic concept - a concept that depends on virtuality - yet I'm convinced of it. Until we apply a ruleset, "fair" is an opinion, just as "good" is an opinion before choosing a purpose. "Virtual" doesn't mean useless. Fairness is virtual.

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If there's a gallon of water & 10 people are thirsty, it seems fair to give each person 1/10 gallon. Under that "ruleset" (breakdown of the scenario), this seems fairest. What if someone is dying of thirst? The calculation needs adjustment! But there's ALWAYS more detail.

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Even if you completely describe the water and thirst situation, there are other considerations. Does the water "belong" to anyone? Is someone being a massive jerk? You can keep zooming in and also keep expanding the horizon. When does it stop? When can we agree on what's "fair"?

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It isn't hopeless. But the fact IS, "fair" is virtual. It depends on how you analyze the situation. We have to agree on what the "game" is, and then we can agree on what's fair. That seems inherent to fairness. Doesn't it? It can only be analyzed from the POV of a ruleset.

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No one talks about this. Either I'm mistaken, or that's potentially a big thing.

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This also relates directly to "deserving" and "earning." Both these concepts refer to an assumption of fairness. What does it mean to earn or deserve, really? Depends on a ruleset.

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That might sound like punting, or moral relativism. But I don't think it's either. Again, "virtual" is no more useless than "hypothetical," "planned," or "mathematical." The latter 3 are all virtual, in fact - yet critical.

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I used to be a writer in the sense that I made great efforts to get words right. And I believed that my words could do something. I wrote about momentous topics, sometimes, and felt this could contribute to change.

I think I've turned from a writer into a teacher. I can spot-check and clarify. People listen carefully to my opinions and reasoning under specific circumstances.

I no longer have much of a sense that any word I write does anything more than clarify a stray thought.