Tag: <span>Fukuyama</span>

The 10 Books I Finished in June Along With Two I Didn’t

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  1. Liberalism and Its Discontents by: Francis Fukuyama
  2. Talent: How to Identify Energizers, Creatives, and Winners Around the World by: Tyler Cowen and Daniel Gross
  3. Creative Evolution by: Henri Bergson (didn’t finish)
  4. An Introduction to Metaphysics by: Henri Bergson
  5. The Great Hunger: Ireland: 1845-1849 by: Cecil Woodham-Smith  (didn’t finish)
  6. The Man Who Died Twice: A Thursday Murder Club Mystery by: Richard Osman
  7. Rising From The Rubble: Buried for hours, changed for life, saved for something greater. By: Williamson Sintyl
  8. The Wind in the Willows by: Kenneth Grahame
  9. Breakaway: Expeditionary Force, Book 12 by: Craig Alanson
  10. Fallout: Expeditionary Force, Book 13 by: Craig Alanson
  11. Match Game: Expeditionary Force, Book 14 by: Craig Alanson
  12. Hidden Worldviews: Eight Cultural Stories That Shape Our Lives by: Steve Wilkens and Mark L. Sanford

I’m posting this on a Saturday, and the day before I leave for Ireland. Last weekend I moved into a new house. (Actually we weren’t completely done with that until Wednesday.) The combination of the two (mostly the latter) has put me in crunch time and behind on everything. I had ambitions of posting something while I was in Ireland, but at this point I think they were more delusions than ambitions. I am going to try and get some writing done while I’m there, partially because I have some posts I’ve started working on and I’d like to try finishing them before the inspiration dissipates.  And partially because I worry that if I miss too many days of writing I’ll get out of the habit and have to start over, which sounds really bad. Though there is a worse outcome, I could lose the desire to write altogether

I have a friend who never takes more than a week of vacation at a time, because he’s sure in his heart of hearts that if he’s ever gone for longer than that he’ll never go back. That once he’s gone for longer than a week he’ll be enjoying his leisure too much and he won’t be able to bear the thought of returning. All the habits that serve to get him out the door every morning to drive 40 minutes to a job he doesn’t like, will be broken. I like writing, and I don’t have to drive 40 minutes to do it, but I nevertheless worry that something similar will happen. Perhaps needlessly, but everybody has their quirks, and I probably have more than average.

I- Eschatological Reviews

Liberalism and Its Discontents

By: Francis Fukuyama

Published: 2022

192 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

The problems currently plaguing western democracies, particularly the US, and how a return to the moderate, classical liberalism of the past will fix those problems.

What’s the author’s angle?

Fukuyama is one of the heavy hitters in this space, particularly known for his book End of History and the Last Man (which I discussed here). In that book he claims that liberalism is the end point of political development, so its growing weakness is a threat to his theory, a threat he attempts to address in this book.

Who should read this book?

No one. Despite my many disagreements with him, I like Fukuyama, but he’s best when he’s taking his time and going really deep (see for example his two volume Political Order series reviewed here and here). This book is too shallow, and feels rushed.

General Thoughts

As I just mentioned, Fukuyama’s longer stuff is better, you can actually see him working through all the nooks and crannies and really thinking about a subject. I did not get that impression with this book. No, the impression I got was completely different.

Have you ever been playing with a child, and they invent a game or some other imaginary scenario? And as you attempt to participate with them in their invention, you do something that doesn’t match what they had in mind? If this situation sounds familiar, then perhaps you already know what happens next.  They get frustrated and exclaim, “You’re not doing it right!” This was the feeling I got from this book. Fukuyama is the child and liberalism is his invented game.

Obviously Fukuyama did not invent the “game” of liberalism, but he does seem to have his own version of liberalism, where moderation plays a central role. Contending that we could solve all of the current problems liberalism is experiencing if we just just exercise more moderation, ends up being the dominant theme of the book. The easiest way to demonstrate this is by drawing your attention to the book’s final sentence: 

Recovering a sense of moderation, both individual and communal, is therefore the key to the revival—indeed, to the survival—of liberalism itself.

Despite reading the whole book (technically listening to it) I’m indebted to N.S. Lyons and his Upheaval newsletter for drawing my attention to this final sentence. I had not realized that Fukuyama provided such a convenient summation of how, “You’re not doing it right!”

According to him, none of the three sides is exercising moderation. (Yeah, there are at least three players in this game.) Trump and his followers have gutted institutions and ignored laws. Neoliberals allowed businesses and banks to run amuck, and then bailed them out while shafting the little guy. And the cultural left has elevated individualism to a pathological degree, turning words into violence and inverting the original meaning of tolerance. And in his estimation the answer to all of this is more moderation. The problem is, as Lyons goes on to point out in his excellent review, there’s nothing inherently moderate about liberalism. 

Maybe Fukuyama could argue that moderation is itself the epitome of true liberalism as a political philosophy. I happen to think moderation is one of the greatest of the classical virtues, so would be open to being biased in this direction. However, there is already a system of political thought that emphasizes the risks of extremes and prioritizes moderation, as a principle, over any specific rationalist theory of how to govern – it’s typically called conservatism.

I agree with Lyons (and by extension Fukuyama) about the greatness of moderation. The problem, as he points out, is that liberalism has never prioritized moderation, in fact if anything it’s been the opposite. It was William F. Buckley, the Father of American Conservatism, who pointed out that conservatism is that force which “stands athwart history, yelling Stop…” A statement clearly made as a reaction to liberalism.

Now, to be clear, there’s a separate argument to be had about the state of modern conservatism, and the role Trump does or does not play in it, but that’s not Fukuyama’s point. His point is to heal classical liberalism by the application of greater moderation. But this is definitely not something that liberalism does automatically. It has no built in instinct for moderation. If something is going to heal liberalism via moderation, it has to be something external. 

Fukuyama claims that we need more moderation on both an individual and communal level, but other than being a good idea (which it is) how does following the ideology of liberalism—an ideology of revolution, and social change; an ideology that has always been about acquiring new freedoms for the individual and the markets; an ideology where continual progress has long occupied center stage—suddenly decide to set all that aside in favor of moderation?

Eschatological Implications

In 1992 when Fukuyama published the End of History and proclaimed that liberal, western democracies represented the best form of government, everyone was basically inclined to agree with him. I’m not sure if they realized how profoundly eschatological his claim was. Yes, it’s true that “cure all diseases”, “eliminate poverty”, and “switch to renewable energy” were all still on our to-do list, but being able to check off “discover best form of government” was still a monumental end point to have reached. Of course these days people are starting to think that we may have marked it off prematurely, and in this book Fukuyama expresses some of the same pessimism, but he also reiterates the point he made in End of History, if western liberalism isn’t the best form of government what other contenders are there? 

The problem, both now and then, is that the liberalism Fukuyama is defending is a direction, not a destination. It’s fine for Fukuyama to point at some spot and say we should stop here, but he can’t call that spot liberalism. Liberalism is how we got to the spot, it’s not the spot itself. And it’s unclear from the book what standard he would apply to mark that spot. 

Many people seem to think that liberalism or the progress enabled by liberalism will eventually reach some obvious stopping place. That we’ll eventually reach the top of the mountain, and it will be clear that this was our destination all along. And perhaps Fukuyama is saying something to that effect, but if we are at the top (or if we were in 1992) it’s definitely not self-evident. And given that there are multiple visions for what our destination looks like we could just as easily be about to go off a cliff as reach a summit. Particularly since everyone is fighting over the steering wheel. 

Going over a cliff would also be an end, but one very different from what Fukuyama imagined in 1992, but which he appears more worried about in 2022.

Talent: How to Identify Energizers, Creatives, and Winners Around the World

By: Tyler Cowen and Daniel Gross

Published: 2022

288 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

You would think I could just point you at the subtitle, but it’s appallingly misleading. The word “energizer” is never mentioned once within the book. The word “winner” is basically never used in that same sense, and the book doesn’t spend much time on how to acquire talent “around the world”. It is about identifying talent, just not any of those other things.

What’s the author’s angle?

Tyler Cowen has one of the most successful blogs in the world, and Daniel Gross runs a startup accelerator. I’m sure in part they want to pass on their wisdom, but I’m also sure they want to prove that they possess wisdom in the first place.

Who should read this book?

In many respects this works better as a self-help book than as an HR book. There are countless suggestions for activities that will broaden your talents. But as far as finding talented people I don’t think many people are going to have the time, resources, or pool of applicants necessary to implement the book’s recommendations.

General Thoughts

My sense as I was reading this book was one of narrowness. That yes, Cowen and Gross are trying to cast a wide net in an effort to find hidden talent, but the sort of talent they’re interested in finding is very, very specific. Mostly they’re interested in finding people like themselves. People who are smart, creative, self-directed, autodidactic, ambitious, optimistic, and driven. There are not a lot of these people.

Beyond that, everyone wants to hire them. I don’t think that smart, creative, self-directed, autodidactic, ambitious, optimistic, driven people are really having a hard time finding a job. So the key question is: given the extreme level of effort we’re already expending to find and hire these people, what kind of marginal utility are Cowen and Gross actually creating? I’m sure that it’s not zero, but I don’t think it’s huge either. You might think that these people are so useful, and so impactful that any improvement in finding them would be beneficial. Unfortunately that’s not the case.

Inevitably as we put more effort into reducing Type 2 errors, we inevitably create more Type 1 errors. Which is to say the more effort we put into identifying overlooked talent (people who previously would have been rejected, i.e. false negatives) the more likely we are to mis-identify talent, and subsequently give them a lot of money and power (false positives). Examples of this phenomenon include Adam Neumann, Elizabeth Holmes, along with a host of other people you’ve never heard of. (A couple of whom I’ve worked with.)

This might be fine if startups existed in a vacuum, but—as evidenced by all the mini series which have recently been produced—dramatic failures and undeserving founders are part of the culture, and their failures, along with their hubris are having a corrosive effect on people’s faith in the fundamental justice of society. I’m not saying that we should ignore the book’s recommendations, or that we should stop looking for these people. It would just be nice if the book spent more time acknowledging the trade-off; gave more advice on how to separate gifted con-artists from founders of spectacular start-ups. And unfortunately the difference between the two is very subtle.

Eschatological Implications

It may seem strange to place a book on talent in the eschatological section, but, beyond just being a book of HR advice, the book gives one the sense that if we can solve the problem of recognizing and encouraging talent, that this talent will go on to solve all of the problems we’re currently wrestling with. Cowen’s Emergent Ventures is basically an attempt to save the world. 

But before talented people can save the whole world they would probably start by saving part of the world. Perhaps the western liberal part? In other words I thought this book provided an interesting contrast with the last book. Fundamentally, Fukuyama wants people to act more intelligently, and you could certainly imagine that if we had the right sort of talented oligarchy running things that our problems would be solved. 

You could imagine it, though I’m not sure it would actually be true in practice. As I said western governments and businesses are already engaged in a huge talent search, and while I think Cowen and Gross’s ideas could definitely help improve the efficacy of that search, I don’t think those ideas are sufficient to transform the current chaos into a smoothly running utopia. To put it in starker terms, what would an Adam Neumann or Elizabeth Holmes presidency look like? 

II- Capsule Reviews

Creative Evolution (didn’t finish)

By: Henri Bergson

Published: 1907

470 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

The idea that there is an underlying force, an élan vital pushing evolution in a particular direction. That things don’t evolve randomly but in a positive direction.

What’s the author’s angle?

A desire to unveil the truth about evolution and philosophy.

Who should read this book?

Possibly people doing graduate work in philosophy or maybe theology. Otherwise, no one.

General Thoughts

Almost exactly a year ago I went to a theology conference. While I was there I spent a lot of time explaining my idea that Fermi’s paradox was best explained by the existence of God along with my thoughts on how methods for dealing with AI Risk resembled LDS Cosmology. One of the attendees, who also happened to be LDS, told me that I had to read Bergson, and that I should start with Creative Evolution. Nearly a year later I finally got around to it, and while I can sort of see what he’s saying, I gave up about halfway through.

Much of what Bergson claims relies on an early 20th century understanding of evolution, and consequently the vast majority of his “evidence” is out-dated, if not outright refuted by our current understanding. Additionally French Philosophy just gets more dense the closer you get to the present day, so while Bergson is no Lacan or Derrida, reading the book was kind of a slog. I was putting in a lot of effort for not much insight, so about a third of the way through I gave up. 

However, in the process I did learn some things. First, while I had heard the term élan vital I did not realize that it originated with Bergson, nor did I make the connection between this idea and the concept of élan which so dominated French military thinking prior to WWI, and which ended up being so disastrous in the first few weeks of the war. 

Also I had no idea how big of a deal Bergson once was. Apparently the first traffic jam to happen on Broadway, in New York, was caused by people clamoring to attend his lecture, despite the fact that it was delivered in French. I looked around a little bit to see if this might be the first traffic jam ever, and it just might be. When I searched for “world’s first traffic jam” I ended up on a site claiming it happened in Washington DC on Armistice day, 1921. Bergson’s lecture was in 1913. Another site mentioned 1895 in San Francisco, but that clearly had to be horse drawn carriages. 

In any case, given how popular he once was I figured I should at least read something by Bergson, so…

Introduction to Metaphysics

By: Henri Bergson

Published: 1903

99 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

There are two ways you can view something: there’s the exterior view and the interior view. Simplified, the exterior view is science, the interior view is metaphysics.

What’s the author’s angle?

Advocacy for his definition of metaphysics.

Who should read this book?

It’s still French philosophy, and it’s still pretty dense, but I quite enjoyed it. Also it’s more of an essay than a book, and only a couple of hours on Audible. 

General Thoughts

Bergson describes the exterior view as a bunch of snapshots. As an example he asks you to imagine a sketch of the tower of Notre Dame in Paris. 

…the artist does not concern himself with [the stones which make up the wall], he notes only the silhouette of the tower. For the real and internal organi­zation of the thing he substitutes, then, an external and schematic representation. So that, on the whole, his sketch corresponds to an observation of the object from a certain point of view and to the choice of a certain means of representation. 

He argues that this sketch is a poor and misleading substitute for going to Paris and entering the cathedral itself. But yet when it comes to science and psychology we’re mostly making crude sketches of some aspect of reality, and we need to get into the interior of what we’re studying. We need to visit the cathedral not merely look at sketches, or pictures or other snapshots of a thing. I think we’re increasingly aware of these limitations, so it’s impressive that Bergson was making this point in 1903.

Of course, we have to grapple with the prospect that such an interior view might be impossible. That we don’t even have an interior view of ourselves. Bergson claims that it is possible and falls in the domain of philosophy and metaphysics and comes about through inspiration. Others (including myself) would say that it’s the domain of religion, and that there is such a thing as divine inspiration. Perhaps we’re both right, perhaps neither of us is, but that doesn’t mean we can ignore the limitations he brings up. Limitations which are only getting worse as the things we study get more and more complex.

The Great Hunger: Ireland: 1845-1849 (didn’t finish)

by: Cecil Woodham-Smith

Published: 1962

528 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

The Irish Potato Famine. The actions taken by the government. The deaths of at least a million Irish, and the subsequent migration of possibly twice that many.

What’s the author’s angle?

To set out the first comprehensive account of the famine and the wholly inadequate effort to provide relief.

Who should read this book?

If you’re interested in the potato famine this is still regarded as one of the best books on the subject. 

General Thoughts

I already mentioned this book in my last newsletter, as a result I only have a few more things to add:

My father was the one who recommended that I not finish the book. That the visit of Queen Victoria and the 1848 rebellion were handled better elsewhere. (Of course now I need to find that elsewhere and complete my study of things.) 

One has to wonder how many similar famines and tragedies happened historically that never made it into the historical record. The potato famine could be said to have taken place at the intersection of history and modernity. History in that widespread famines still happened despite people’s best efforts to deal with them, and modernity, in that we have a record of those efforts, and the deaths, and the suffering. Of course there have been massive famines since then, but the really big ones were all in communist countries and I think those belong in a separate category. 

Speaking of the efforts, there was certainly plenty of apathy, mistakes, and outright misrule to go around. But there were actually people who were doing their best. There were too few of these people, and they were hampered by bad ideas (laissez-faire being the big one) but they didn’t ignore the problem. A million people ended up dying, so I’m not sure how much credit we should give them. But it’s a good example that even in the worst tragedies, everyone is the hero of their own story.

The Man Who Died Twice: A Thursday Murder Club Mystery

By: Richard Osman

Published: 2021

368 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

The further adventures of the Thursday Murder Club, a group of four English pensioners, who solve old and new murders. In this one Elizabeth, a former agent for MI5 must deal with her scoundrel of an ex-husband.

Who should read this book?

If you like Agatha Christie style murder mysteries or murder mysteries in general this is the book for you. And if you liked the first book, then I have no doubt that you’ll also like this one as well. 

General Thoughts

This was another thoroughly enjoyable entry in the series. As with most mystery novels, there are plot holes, and people sometimes do things merely because that’s what the plot requires, but the same could be said for all modern media. If I had to highlight one aspect of the book for special recognition, it would be the characters. Anyone who doesn’t love these four old retirees, particularly Joyce, has no soul. If you enjoy murder mysteries at all I would pick up this series. Start with the first book

Rising From The Rubble: Buried for hours, changed for life, saved for something greater. 

By: Williamson Sintyl

Published: 2022

202 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

An autobiographical/self-help book about the author’s experience surviving 28 hours trapped in the rubble caused by the Haitian earthquake, and his journey since then.

What’s the author’s angle?

Sintyl is the head of a non-profit which is focused on providing mentors for Haitian children. This book wants to convince you that you should contribute to this non-profit, and you should. I do.

Who should read this book?

Anyone who likes inspiring stories, or feels like they should pay more attention to the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere.

General Thoughts

Sintyl attended the same church as me for several years, so I know him pretty well. He’s basically the nicest guy you will ever meet and his story really is incredible. It’s not merely that he survived for 28 hours buried under rubble in excruciating pain with no water, that’s really only the beginning. I don’t want to spoil anything, but what happened afterwards is just as incredible as surviving the earthquake.

The Wind in the Willows 

By: Kenneth Grahame

Published: 1908

272 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

The adventures of Mole, Rat, Badger and Toad. The calm and idyllic lives of the first three contrasted with the automobile mania of Toad. 

Who should read this book?

Anyone who likes Tolkein, Lewis or Milne.

General Thoughts

This is one of those books that somehow slipped past me when I was younger. But recently my aunt recommended that I check it out, and I’m glad that I did. It’s one of those books that is endlessly enchanting and delightful. All the characters are marvelous and all the stories are charming.

Expeditionary Force Series

By:  Craig Alanson

Book 12: Breakaway

393 Pages

Book 13: Fallout

556 Pages

Book 14: Match Game

593 Pages

Briefly, what is this series about?

Military science fiction about humanity suddenly discovering that the galaxy is full of super powerful warring aliens, and their attempts to avoid being collateral damage in those wars.

Who should read these books?

Supposedly there’s only one book left in the series after these ones. If you’ve made it to book 12 you’re definitely in the home stretch, and I would say that these books are better than the one’s in the middle. 

General Thoughts

I’m a little bit worried that with only one book left that I’m not going to get the payoff I’ve been hoping for on all of the mysteries he’s introduced. Though he has been gradually resolving many of them, so I’m cautiously optimistic. 

Also there is a tendency as series progress for things to get increasingly ridiculous (think the Simpsons). I definitely noticed this happening with XForce, but there’s a large amount of ridiculousness embedded in things from the very beginning, so that makes it easier to swallow. I’ll repeat again, this is a very pulpy series, and you should approach it accordingly. 

The final book should be out by the end of the year, and if you wanted to wait for my review of the whole series I wouldn’t blame you.

III- Religious Reviews

Hidden Worldviews: Eight Cultural Stories That Shape Our Lives 

By: Steve Wilkens and Mark L. Sanford

Published: 2009

218 Pages

Briefly, what is this book about?

As you might gather, different ways of viewing the world, but more than that, different ways of succeeding.

What’s the author’s angle?

Both of the authors are Christian, and they want to show that out of all of the worldviews, Christianity is the best, that it doesn’t have the weaknesses of the other eight purely cultural approaches.

Who should read this book?

Even if you’re not Christian the fact that these worldviews are hidden still makes for an interesting discussion of unseen motivations and unstated assumptions.

General Thoughts

The authors profile nine worldviews:

  1. Individualism
  2. Consumerism
  3. Nationalism
  4. Moral Relativism
  5. Scientific Naturalism
  6. New Ageism
  7. Postmodern tribalism
  8. Salvation by Therapy
  9. Christianity

Obviously I don’t have the time to go through the strengths and weaknesses of all nine. Nor to justify, for those inclined to doubt, why Christianity lacks the weaknesses of the other eight. But I would like to touch on the idea of salvation, because in the end that’s what each of these worldviews offers: salvation, albeit in very different flavors and at very different scales. 

Several of the worldviews operate at the scale of the individual. Individualism obviously, but also consumerism, and salvation by therapy. (Also, depending on how you operationalize them, New Ageism and moral relativism are also pretty small scale.) These approaches could, conceivably, save everyone, but there’s no economy of scale, and in fact individualism and consumerism become more expensive as they scale. Either way, each person, independently, has to go through the process. And even if we managed to pull such a thing off, such salvation is temporary. You have to start over every time someone new is born. 

Nationalism and postmodern tribalism both possess the advantage of operating at larger scales. Which is very useful from a pragmatic standpoint, but still insufficient if you’re looking for ultimate salvation. 

Only Christianity (or more accurately religion in general) and scientific naturalism offer the potential of salvation for everybody. And many people, when given a choice between the two, will immediately choose science. Nor is that a bad choice, but it does seem like the bloom is off the rose. There was a time when there was every reason to be optimistic about science’s ability to save, but these days science gets far more attention for its destructive possibilities than for its salvific power.

This week rather than appealing for donations for my work, I would ask you to donate to Arise: Project for Humanity. The Haitian mentoring program I mentioned in my review of Rising from the Rubble. It’s a great cause and I would even say that it should be considered effective altruism. The address to do that is: Ariseprojects.org

Eschatological Frameworks

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I just finished reading the book Hidden Worldviews: Eight Cultural Stories That Shape Our Lives. It’s an explicitly Christian book, and it sets out to discuss eight different modern belief systems—things like individualism, scientific naturalism, or consumerism—and then to demonstrate why these other worldviews are inferior to Christianity. I’ll have a review of it in my monthly round-up, but I found the structure to be very interesting: this idea of explicitly breaking down the different ways one might see the world. It gave me the idea of explicitly breaking down and examining the different ways people have come up with for envisioning the future, of exploring the various eschatological frameworks, some religious, but most of them secular.

As I mentioned in my very first post (which, coincidently, went up almost exactly six years ago) the future can really go in only one of two ways. We could achieve some sort of technological singularity, a development so radical that the world is unrecognizable. This term is most commonly used with AI, but there are other possibilities, for example the internet was a soft singularity. Alternatively, modern civilization could take a sharp downward turn into collapse and catastrophe. There is no middle ground. The world of 2122, or 2100, or even 2060  is going to be very, very different from the world of 2022. I am not the only one making this claim. Holden Karnofsky, founder of GiveWall, has said that this is the most important century ever for humanity. Ian Morris, professor of Classics and author of such books as, War! What is it Good For? (see my discussion here) goes even further and says the same thing but claims it will all be taking place within the next 40 years

To be fair, basically everyone thinks the world of 2060 will be different than the world of 2020, the question is how different? Will it be surprisingly similar to today, just better? Or will it be unrecognizable? If so, will it be unrecognizable in a good way or in a bad way? Will it be an undreamt of utopia or a horrible post-apocalyptic wasteland?

I’m not sure, I have made some predictions, but revisiting those is not the point of this post. No, in this post I want to look at various frameworks people might use to make such predictions, examine the fundamental embedded assumptions within those frameworks and, most of all, discuss where each framework thinks salvation, or potential destruction, lies. Let’s start with the framework where the least is expected to happen:

Pinkerism/Neoliberalism/Fukuyama’s End of History  

Embedded assumptions: All of the statistics show that things are going great. Poverty is down and living standards are up. Everyone has more rights. Violence has dropped across the board, including that most important category: war, which hasn’t happened between Great Powers for 75 years. Beyond that, as long as we don’t sabotage ourselves, progress and technology will take care of problems like climate change and political discord as well.

What is the source of our salvation: We basically already are saved; people just don’t realize it because the process has been so gradual. But by any objective measure, the violence and want of the past have been left behind.

When Fukuyama declared an end to history in his book of the same name, he was making an eschatological claim. If you’re just going off the title, he appears to be declaring that we have already and permanently been saved. If his critics bothered to read the book they would discover that he is far more nuanced about how permanent things actually are. What he’s more arguing is that we have discovered all the tools necessary for salvation. Tools like science, market economies, free flow of migrants, etc. And there don’t appear to be any better tools out there. This is the end he’s talking about.

Steven Pinker goes even farther and claims in his book Enlightenment Now, that not only do we have the tools for salvation, but that they’re working great. We just need to keep using them, and not toss them away because they’re not working fast enough. That to the extent we have a problem it’s that we don’t have enough faith in these tools, and the minute they don’t work perfectly we immediately jump to the conclusion that they don’t work at all. 

Of course, speaking of faith, Pinker has been accused of having too much faith that these tools will continue to work in the future, despite whatever new problems arise. This is why this framework ends up with the least dramatic view of the future, because it asserts that even if something changes, and we have to transition to a new reality, that our current tools are more than capable of smoothing that transition. There will be no hard takeoff due to AI, nor a global catastrophe due to climate change. The scientific method and progress more broadly has everything necessary for success and salvation, we just need to not abandon them.


Embedded assumptions: Technology is changing the world with incredible rapidity. And the rate at which this change is taking place is only going to increase. This allows us to change what it means to be human, making them better or develop powerful artificial intelligence, or other amazing things we can scarcely imagine.

What is the source of our salvation: Technology is going to allow us to get rid of all the bad parts of humanity, things like death, scarcity, and stupidity, but also violence and want. Once we’ve gotten rid of all of those things, and added lots of cool things besides, we will have essentially achieved a secular version of heaven.

Once again this framework is based on the tools of technology and progress, only in this case it’s focused not on the tools we already have, but on the tools that are being worked on. It is, of course, always possible that these tools won’t be able to do everything transhumanists imagine. As an example, some people still think that artificial general intelligence (AGI) will prove to be far more difficult to create than people imagine, but to be fair these people are rarely transhumanists. Rather transhumanists are those who believe that such developments are right around the corner. 

Robin Hanson, who doesn’t consider himself to be a transhumanist, and who also believes that AGI will be difficult to create, nevertheless wrote an entire book (see my discussion here) on uploading our brains to computers called The Age of Em. (Em is short for emulated person.) I bring this up both to demonstrate some of the debates within this ideology, but also because it’s one of the clearest examples of transhumanism’s eschatological bent. It combines immortality, a postmortal utopia, and a single salvific event. Hanson doesn’t imagine a day of judgment, the Age of Em will actually last two years in his opinion (the book is remarkably specific in its predictions) but during that time Em’s will experience a thousand years of subjective time. My religious readers may see a parallel between this and the concept of millennialism.

A few people, like our old friends the Mormon Transhumanist Association (MTA), who have not made an appearance in this space for a long time, but who have been on my mind a lot recently, explicitly link religion and transhumanism. Similar to Pinker they believe that technology has reduced violence and want, but they go beyond that to imagine that it will completely eliminate it, and allow resurrection and eternal life as well—that most of the things promised by Christianity (and specifically the Mormon version of it) will be brought to pass by technology.

Despite the foregoing, I don’t want to play up the religious angle of transhumanism too much, but it does rely on two kinds of faith. Faith that the miraculous technology envisioned will actually materialize, and faith that when it does it will be a good thing. For a group that doesn’t have that second form of faith we turn to a discussion of:

Existential Risk

Embedded assumptions: Technology is changing the world with incredible rapidity. And the rate at which this change is taking place is only going to increase. This acceleration will shortly outstrip our ability to manage the risks that inevitably accompany new technology. Not only will we be unable to keep ahead of the risks, but the more technology advances the bigger the risks get.

What is the source of our destruction: While the possibility exists that we might be destroyed by a comet or an asteroid. It’s far more likely we will be destroyed by the tools we’ve created, whether it be nukes, or bioweapons, or an aggressive AI. 

As you might be able to tell there is broad overlap between transhumanists and people who worry about existential risk. You might say that the former are technological optimists while the latter are technological pessimists. From my limited perspective, I think most of these people have been drifting towards the pessimistic side of things.

For an illustration of why people are pessimistic, and this eschatological framework in general, it’s best to turn to an analogy from Nick Bostrom, which has appeared a couple of times in this space:

Imagine there’s an urn. Inside of the urn are balls of various shades. You can play a game by drawing these balls out of the urn. Drawing a white ball is tremendously beneficial. Off-white balls are almost as good but carry a few downsides as well. There are also some gray balls and the darker the gray the more downsides it carries. However, if you ever draw a pure black ball then the game is over, and you lose.

Bostrom puts forward this analogy as a way of describing the potential benefits and harms of new technologies. Many, perhaps most will be beneficial, but some will be harmful, and it’s possible that one will end up causing the end of humanity. Unfortunately it’s probably impossible to stop the development of new technology, to stop drawing balls from the urn, but we can try and imagine what sorts of technology might be dangerous and take steps to mitigate it in advance.

For most people in this space the thing they worry about the most is AI Risk. The idea that we will develop AGI but be unable to control it. That we will create gods and they will turn out to be malevolent.

Speaking of God…

Christian Eschatology

Embedded assumptions: Christian eschatology comes in lots of flavors, but at the moment the discussion is dominated by the aforementioned millennialism, which assumes that things like the Rapture and the Second Coming of Christ are right around the corner. 

What is the source of our salvation: God. 

It might seem strange to discuss Christian eschatology alongside things like transhumanism and neoliberalism. On the other hand, as it’s the OG eschatology, it would seem strange not to discuss it.

As the original eschatology, Christian beliefs and language are woven all through this discussion. This is what allows me to discuss Robin Hanson’s version of “heaven”. This is what enables the MTA to imagine that technology will be the means of bringing about the end of the world, but in a good way. This cross-pollination has also gone the other way.

To be a modern eschatological framework, you have to have something to say about progress and technology. For many, perhaps even most Christians the modern world is evidence that the end must be close, that we are essentially building the Tower of Babel. (As you might imagine the MTA disagrees with this.) In this sense Christians are somewhat related to the people who worry about existential risk, though in this case they have faith that while things are going to get bad, that eventually Jesus will return and everything will turn out okay. As I’ve said before, when considering the alternatives, I think this view has a lot to recommend it.

New Age Spiritualism

Embedded assumptions: That the world has passed into a new, more enlightened era. As a consequence, we have left behind much of the evil and selfishness that used to afflict humanity, and we are on our way to embracing universal acceptance, tolerance and love.

What is the source of our salvation: An underlying spirit of progress, paired with a greater awareness of the higher morality brought about by this spirit of progress. 

It is my impression that almost no one uses the term “New Age” any more, so if you have a better term for this framework let me know. However, if you followed the link in the section heading you’ll see that “New Age” beliefs are still very common, as such it seemed worth including.

Whatever you want to call it and whatever its current influence, this framework is far less “in your face” than preceding ones. In part this is because its adherents generally feel that it’s going to be eventually successful regardless of how people act. That love, tolerance, and kindness will eventually triumph. That the arc of history is long, but that it bends towards justice”.

That said, there does appear to be a lot of frustration—by people who have a vision of what progress entails and where we’re headed—with those who don’t share their vision. It might be too much to declare that “woke ideology” overlaps with modern New Age eschatology, but it does seem to borrow a lot of the same principles, albeit with a more militant twist. But both imagine that we’re progressing towards a utopia of tolerance and kindness, and that some people are dragging their feet. 

I confess that this is the framework I understand the least, but it does seem like the foundation of much that is happening currently. And overall it translates into an eschatology that doesn’t revolve around technology, but around human attitudes and behavior.

Catabolic Collapse

Embedded assumptions: That civilization is reaching the point of diminishing productivity, growth and innovation. As a consequence of this we can’t build new things, and shortly we won’t even be able to maintain what we already have. 

What is the source of our destruction: A slow cannibalism of existing infrastructure, government programs, and social capital. 

Here we have come full circle. This is yet another slow moving eschatology, similar to Pinkerism, but in this case we’re not already saved, we’re already damned. This particular eschatological framework was first suggested by John Michael Greer, who got his start as part of the peak oil movement and has gradually shifted to commenting on late capitalism from kind of an ecosocialist perspective. Which is to say he’s very concerned about the environment and he talks a lot about the discontent of the average blue collar worker.

As a formal framework, it’s pretty obscure, but as a generalized sense of where the country is, with gas at $5/gallon, inflation, all the after effects of the pandemic, and a divided country. I think there are a lot of people who believe this is what’s happening even if they don’t have a name for it. 

The point, as I have mentioned before, is that the apocalypse will not be as cool or as deadly as you hope. There’s a great deal of ruin in a nation and it’s going to take a long time for that ruin to manifest. Even if there’s a huge worldwide pandemic, even if there’s a nuclear war. Humans are tenacious. But absent divine intervention I don’t think permanent salvation is in the cards. And I think destruction is going to end up being long and painful. 


In 1939, Charles Kettering, a truly amazing inventor (He held 186 patents!), said:

I am not disturbed about the future. I think it is going to be a wonderful place. I don’t like people to talk about how bad it is going to be, because I expect to spend the rest of my life in the future.

You may have heard the shortened version, “We should all be concerned about the future because we will have to spend the rest of our lives there.” But what form should that concern take? And will it be a “wonderful place”? These are incredibly important questions, and it is my hope that by going through the various frameworks I’ve helped you develop some answers. 

As to my own answers to these questions, first we should note that the years immediately following Kettering’s pronouncement ended up being anything but wonderful. Instead war broke out on a scale never before seen and never since equaled. And yet I strongly suspect that Ian Morris is right, that the next forty years will be more impactful than the forty years leading up to the end of World War II. Even though those years contained World War I. And more impactful than the 40 years which started at the beginning of World War II, even though we landed on the Moon.

Because of this I think we should have an enormous amount of concern for the future because there’s a significant chance that it won’t be a wonderful place. We’ve never before been in a situation where things are changing so fast on so many fronts. And the faster things change the harder it is for us to adapt and the less likely a “wonderful” future becomes. 

I certainly hope that Pinker’s right, and we have been saved, or we will soon be saved. And certainly that idea deserves a seat at the table, but as you can see there are several other ideologies also seated at the eschatological table. Some are scary, some are interesting, but they’re all dramatic. Which is to say hang on, the next few decades are going to be bumpy.

I considered putting in Marxism as a framework, but is that really still a going concern? If it is let me know. The best way to do that is to send me money, which is both a great idea anyway, but also, if I’m not mistaken, ideologically appropriate. 

9 Days vs. 3 Years

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All the way back in 1992, at the end of the Cold War, Francis Fukuyama published a book called The End of History and the Last Man. This book has come under a lot of criticism (including from me before I read it) for claiming that we had reached “the end of history”. But in reality the book’s claims are far more subtle. And its main claim, that liberal democracy and free markets have no remaining viable competitor, has been the default assumption of basically all politicians and policy makers over the last 30 years. But as we conduct our retrospective on the events in Afghanistan, these events are not merely a reflection on the country and its peculiarities, nor an embarrassment for Biden, they are a test of this assumption, a test of the liberal order. A test I’m pretty sure we failed.

It might be helpful at this point to remind ourselves of Fukuyama’s argument. In my review of the book I provided the following summary of his claims:

  • His strongest claim is that things are different because we can never go back to a condition where we didn’t understand the scientific method.
  • His next strongest claim is that we are unlikely to lose the knowledge we’ve acquired through that method. At this point we can’t go back to a time when no one knew how to make a thermonuclear weapon.
  • In the middle, is his claim that war will continue to exist, and those that use science, and the things science can give them, like the aforementioned nukes, are going to have an advantage in those wars, but that advantage requires significant industry in addition to significant scientific knowledge to take advantage of, and that achieving that industry is only possible under certain political systems. 
  • Finally, his weakest claim is that a western style liberal democracy with free markets/capitalism is the best system for achieving both the science and industry necessary to have this edge.

In the wake of our retreat from Afghanistan these claims must all be viewed in a different light. Yes we are probably better at taking advantage of the scientific method than the people in Afghanistan. But as I pointed out in the last post, science did not provide us with any method for turning Afghanistan into a liberal democracy of the kind promoted by Fukuyama. It gave us a tremendous edge in fighting the Afghans who opposed us, but in the end it made very little impact on their desire to fight for themselves. (More on that in a second.) It remains open for debate whether there can be said to be a science of politics in general, but science certainly appears helpless when it comes to the politics of Afghanistan. Afghanistan was often viewed as a battle for hearts and minds, and while our science and industry are great at winning conventional battles, they proved powerless to fight these other battles of attitude and ideology. 

It’s not that the global liberal democratic project ended in Afghanistan, there are still many parts of the world where it (mostly) works. It’s that it didn’t expand into Afghanistan, and this despite an effort spanning 20 years and costing trillions of dollars. Fukuyama never asserted that liberal values were historically inevitable—despite how much he was influenced by Hegel—for him it was a matter of competition. Liberal democratic states would inevitably outcompete nonliberal states economically, intellectually, and militarily. In order to survive, states would have to adopt this ideology, otherwise their defeat was inevitable. Well we spent 20 years trying to get Afghanistan to accomplish exactly that and we appear to have failed. We didn’t outcompete the nonliberal elements either intellectually or militarily. It can be argued that we’re still outcompeting them economically, but that wasn’t enough. 

This is of course related to the point Richard Hanania made which opened my last post: that political science has failed. One of my readers asked why, when we suffered a similar failure in Vietnam, no one declared political science to be dead back then? If they didn’t, why should we do so now? To begin with, it’s possible they did (see numerous criticisms of guys like McNamara). Also, in response, political scientists, rather than all quitting their jobs to manage a McDonald’s, probably defended their profession (as people are inclined to do), perhaps arguing that they had incorporated the relevant criticism and improved things. I bring up this first possibility because I’m pretty sure that’s what is going to happen this time as well. But there’s another angle of his question that I’m more interested in. 


While our exit from Afghanistan certainly reminded people of Vietnam, in many other respects the two wars were very different. The North Vietnamese had powerful backing in the form of the Soviet Union and China. Afghanistan had no such help (or very little). Also, while people have no problem categorizing communism as a true rival ideology, particularly at the time of the Vietnam war, very few people are framing the Taliban’s victory in ideological terms, and no one is anointing any ideology as potential successor to liberalism. (Islam might be considered for that role, but if anything Afghanistan has been a lesson more in its fractures than in its unity.)

Another difference is the history, America’s efforts in Afghanistan were conducted in the shadow of the Soviet Union’s previous disastrous occupation. And I think it’s more instructive to compare the end of our time in Afghanistan with the end of the Soviet’s time in Afghanistan than with the end of our time in Vietnam.

This difference was brought to my attention by Ross Douthat in his column from a couple of weeks ago. 

Only recently the view that without U.S. troops, the American-backed government in Kabul would be doomed to the same fate as the Soviet-backed government some 30 years ago seemed like hardheaded realism. Now such “realism” has been proven to be wildly overoptimistic. Without Soviet troops, the Moscow-backed government actually held out for several years before the mujahideen reached Kabul. Whereas our $2,000,000,000,000 built a regime that fell to the Taliban before American troops could even finish their retreat.

Later in the same article he points out that the US backed government was conquered faster by the Taliban than the Taliban were initially conquered by the US. I understand that Afghanistan is the graveyard of empires, but the speed and lack of struggle accompanying this most recent death suggests something closer to euthanasia than murder. And basically this is exactly how Biden is defending his decision.

It feels like it would be hard to overemphasis this difference: the US backed government lasted 9 days while the Soviet backed government lasted several years. In fact I would argue that this difference speaks to a deep truth about the nature of the American effort and it’s associated ideological foundation. The point of this post is to uncover what that truth might be. Like all deep truths I don’t imagine that I’m going to do much more than scratch the surface in the space of a few thousand words, but I think one entry point would be a comparison of two leaders: 

The Soviet forces started withdrawing from Afghanistan in May of 1988 with the very last troops leaving in February of 1989. At this point Mohammad Najibullah, the president of Afghanistan was left to fend for himself. The Soviets were still giving him financial aid, but the US and Pakistan were still giving aid to his enemies. Initially things went okay for Najibullah, but by the beginning of 1991 he only held on to 10% of the country. On top of this the Soviet Union was in the process of collapsing by this point, finally collapsing for good in December of that year. Despite this, Najibullah fought on, eventually resigning only in April of 1992. A resignation that came about in large part because of the defection of a key general. After being unsuccessful in his attempt to flee to India, he sought refuge in the UN compound where he stayed for the next four years. 

During those years the Afghan Civil War raged. In 1996 the Taliban eventually came out on top, and were on the verge of taking Kabul. At this point Najibullah was offered one final chance to escape which he turned down for reasons which have been much speculated on since then. As one might imagine, when the Taliban took Kabul they didn’t let anything like the UN stand in their way. Najibullah was abducted from the compound, tortured to death, dragged through the streets, and then hung outside the presidential palace. 

Now let’s turn to consider Ashraf Ghani, the most recent president of Afghanistan, the one backed by the US. I’m taking most of my information here from the excellent Washington Post article, “Surprise, panic and fateful choices: The day America lost its longest war“. In reading about Najibullah one gets the sense that the Soviet installed government wouldn’t have lasted as long as it did without him. In reading about Ghani one gets the exact opposite sense, that he’s the entire reason everything collapsed so swiftly. That once he fled everyone figured the government had lost, and there was no sense continuing the fight. Now to be fair to Ghani, some of his advisors told him, incorrectly, that the militants were already in the palace and looking for him. So without telling most of his other advisors or the US, he immediately fled. Basically people working for him went to lunch, and when they came back his office was empty. There was no explanation. This paragraph seems particularly damning:

Even after they had reached safety, the president and his party never circled back with senior officials who had been anxiously seeking their help. Some of those who had worked closely with Ghani over the years felt betrayed, believing he had left them to die.

Ghani’s sudden flight from Kabul was a disaster for his government, but it was at least understandable. We already saw what happened to the last president of Afghanistan when the Taliban came to town. Certainly we would hope that he was made of sterner stuff. Personally, I can’t imagine Najibullah fleeing so suddenly. But in a sense all of this is beside the point. In a moment of panic lots of actions are excusable, and while I think there are some insights to be gained in considering his flight from Kabul, I’m more interested in what Ghani did when he had time to reflect. What did he do before and after his panicked flight? We have already seen that he didn’t bother to “circle back” to those he had left behind, but what was he doing in the days beforehand, as all the provincial capitals were falling?

As the Taliban continued to accumulate gains, American officials began to see the president’s confidence as delusion.

Ghani’s lack of focus on the threat that the Taliban posed mystified U.S. officials, in particular, Marine Gen. Kenneth “Frank” McKenzie, head of U.S. Central Command, and Ambassador Ross Wilson.

In a July meeting with Ghani in Kabul, the two men told the Afghan president that his team needed a “realistic, implementable and widely supported plan to defend the country” and must drop the idea of defending all 34 provincial capitals, said an official familiar with the meeting.

“They had to focus on what they could actually defend,” said the official. “All provinces are important, but some were integral to the defense of Kabul.”

Ghani appeared to agree, but there would be no follow-through, the official said.

“Advice would be given, the right things would be said, and nothing would happen,” the official said. “They never did it. They never came up with that plan.”

Even as a cascade of provincial capitals fell — starting with Zaranj in the far southwest on Aug. 6, and continuing through two dozen others over the nine days that followed — the president appeared distracted.

“Ghani would want to talk about digitization of the economy,” said the official, referring to the president’s plan for a government salary payment system. “It had nothing to do with the dire threat.”

As late as the Saturday afternoon before Kabul fell, Ghani did not suggest any urgency around departure arrangements or the safety of senior staff.

Receiving one adviser in the palace gardens, and speaking in his characteristic soft tones, he made arrangements to shore up the country’s economy. He was supposed to address the nation later that night. But he never did.

The Americans, meanwhile, were suffering their own delusions.

In June, U.S. intelligence agencies had assessed that the Afghan government would hang on for at least another six months. By August, the dominant view was that the Taliban wasn’t likely to pose a serious threat to Kabul until late fall.

As you can see the Washington Post doesn’t let the American military off the hook either, but the article does reserve its harshest criticism for Ghani. And perhaps the Soviets and Najibullah were similarly insouciant in February of 1989, as the Mujahideen roamed the country with their American-supplied stinger missiles. But I really doubt it. I suspect that the reason Najibullah lasted so long was not only did he have a plan for staying in power, but he was very good about executing on that plan.  

Beyond the general sense that the post-soviet withdrawal Afghanistan must have been a very different place that post-US withdrawal Afghanistan, the thing that really jumps out at me from the Washington Post account, is the idea that as the country collapses around him all Ghani wanted to talk about was the “digitization of the economy”. I understand that it’s possible, even likely, that in choosing to emphasize the differences in how long the two governments lasted, and then further emphasizing the two leaders, and then beyond that emphasizing one line in an article, that I have put an enormous amount of weight on a very tiny foundation. But for me this seems to encapsulate, in one anecdote, the entire problem. During the 20 years we spent in Afghanistan, we didn’t create Fukuyama’s market-fueled, science-driven, war-fighting powerhouse. We didn’t replace their tribal culture with a progressive culture. All we managed to do was create a small group of elites who worry about things like the digitization of the economy.

In my first post on Afghanistan I borrowed an idea from Antonio García Martínez about the idea that we are no longer a serious people, and perhaps I need to amend that. “Digitizing the economy” is a serious topic. It’s the kind of thing serious people talk about. What it wasn’t, was relevant. When the Taliban have conquered most of the country in the space of a few days talking about anything other than how your guys are going to kill their guys is pointless. I’m confident that Najibullah was an expert in such conversations. Ghani apparently avoided them. 


Reading about Ghani one word comes to mind: “untethered” as in untethered from reality. The US could also be accused of being untethered as well. There is of course the disconnect immediately preceding the fall of Kabul: despite the speed with which the Taliban was advancing everyone thought it would take a lot longer. There was the famous assertion that Kabul was not in an “imminent threat environment” made just two days before it fell. And many of the key people were so confident of things that they went on vacation, for example the Secretary of State and even Biden himself. But one suspects we were untethered from reality during the entire 20 years we were in the country. 

At the beginning of those 20 years I think most people assumed that progress was possible, in fact they probably on some level imagined that it was inevitable. In a sense this is part of a general view of how the future is going to play out. Most people can imagine that in a 100 years that we’ll have colonies on Mars, very few imagine that when that happens the Taliban will still be in charge of Afghanistan. And yet, though it’s not 100 years, 20 years have passed and at least two trillion dollars have been spent, and rather than getting any closer to this imagined future we appear to have gone backwards. As Douthat says:

Now, though, we know that in terms of actual staying power, all our nation-building efforts couldn’t even match what the Soviet Union managed in its dotage.

So is progress possible? Will the Taliban or some roughly similar organization still be in charge of Afghanistan in 100 years or will Afghanistan, to borrow another idea of Fukuyama’s, have turned into something resembling Denmark?

If so, how might this progress actually occur? I’m not sure. I’m not one of the people who think it’s inevitable. I think it could very easily not occur, but if I were going to take some guesses here are a few:

Time: It may just be that it will occur, but that we can’t hurry it. That in fact by trying to intervene we actually slowed it down. By making progress seem to be explicitly foreign it becomes more difficult for people to adopt it.

Economic Necessity: It has long been thought that countries will progress towards liberal democracy out of a desire to be part of the global economy with all of its advantages. This was the major justification behind normalizing relations with China and inviting them to the WTO. That didn’t work out quite the way people expected. Even so, at the moment it looks like the best lever we have with Afghanistan.

War: People will argue that we already tried war. But I’m not sure that we have. The great transformation of Germany and Japan happened after the most brutal war imaginable. Taking such a course in Afghanistan would be horrible, but repeated and violent demonstrations of the military superiority of a western liberal democracy vs. Islamic tribalism might be the only thing that gets people to abandon the latter in favor of the former. At its core I think this is Fukuyama’s argument.

Muscular Ideology: Whatever our plan was for “nurtur[ing] the shoots of Afghan liberalism”, it had some curious holes. The US turned a blind eye to ridiculous amounts of corruption. It’s my understanding that this corruption was a major factor in the ease with which the Taliban took over. The US forces also turned a blind eye to traditional Afghan pederasty. Despite these examples of extreme tolerance it’s not like we didn’t impose any ideology on Afghanistan. Much has been made of the expansion of women’s rights and their subsequent retreat now that the Taliban are back in power. But if you’re an Afghan looking for an ideology to give your allegiance to this combination is a very weird mish-mash to stake your future on.

I think this last point starts to get to the heart of the matter, and illustrates the ultimate difference between Ghani and Najibullah. The former did plant his flag in this vague ideological mish-mash where digitizing the economy somehow took up more of his attention than ensuring the survival of his administration. Whereas the latter was almost certainly laser focused on survival and maintaining power. This is the difference between a regime which lasts 9 days and one that lasts three years. 

Of course the default American regime has lasted nearly 250 years. Why don’t we just use that ideology? Well that would obviously open us up to accusations of colonialism (it’s interesting what sort of things do trigger those accusations and what things don’t.) But also it’s an ideology which was being developed for centuries even before it provided for the foundation of the United States.

Examining this development makes the situation even more baffling. The countries which would go on to become western liberal democracies eliminated wide scale corruption and pederasty fairly early on. I’m not an expert on the level of corruption in 17th century Europe, but by the time of the American Revolution corruption was relatively rare, certainly far more rare than what we saw in Afghanistan. And of course pederasty had been taboo for centuries. On the other hand at the time of the American Revolution women’s suffrage was still more than a century away. And the digitization of the economy was another century or more beyond that. But somehow this is what we ended up focusing on, the fruits of liberal democracy rather than the foundation. It’s as if people think they can skip ahead and go straight to the parts they find attractive while overlooking all the steps that were initially required. We’ve become untethered from the ideology that got us here, and without it our days are numbered. We have more than 9 days our Afghan proteges lasted, but beyond that, I’m certain we have fewer days than we think.

Until writing this I didn’t realize how close we are to the Semiquincentennial (Wikipedia tells me it’s also called Sestercentennial or Quarter Millennial). I hope to still be writing about events when it happens and as that is many days hence I hope it does happen. If you’d like to help ensure that (my writing not the existence of the country) consider donating.