C-O-I-N-S: Communication Opinions, Insights and New Strategies (from the author of Camelot, Inc.)

A Perfect 10 Has Nowhere to Go

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Wed, 07 Oct 2026 16:01:59 +0000

Years ago, during a job interview, I asked the chairman of a global company how he would rate his organization across a range of measures.

“The company is a 10,” he said.

Not an eight or even a nine and a half. A 10.

I wondered: Really? No dissatisfied customers, no failed employees, no products to improve, no smarter competitors?

Whether his answer reflected confidence, salesmanship, or sincere belief, I knew what bothered me. A 10 leaves you nowhere to go.

Today, we are seeing a far more consequential version of the “10” mindset in President Donald Trump’s effort to reshape how America tells its history.

There is much to celebrate in this country, and debate over history is natural. Historians argue, interpretations change, and new evidence emerges. But starting with the conclusion that America must look good and then filtering facts accordingly is different and dangerous.

In March 2025, Trump issued an executive order titled “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History.” The administration argued that recent interpretations had replaced objective history with an ideological narrative portraying the United States as inherently racist, sexist, oppressive, or irredeemably flawed. The order directed federal historical sites to avoid content that “inappropriately disparage[s]” Americans and to focus on national achievements and progress.

That criticism deserves consideration.

Museums can be selective, ideological, and wrong, too. But the remedy for one-sided history is better history, not government-directed history that leads to a preferred conclusion. A history museum’s purpose is to help us understand what happened, not to make us feel good or bad.

Trump later complained that the Smithsonian was “OUT OF CONTROL” and focused excessively on “how bad Slavery was” rather than American “Success” and “Brightness.”

The dispute has since intensified. In July 2026, Trump issued another order, “Restoring Trust in the Smithsonian Institution,” pressing for changes at the National Museum of American History. In September, the administration threatened to curtail federal agencies’ support for the Smithsonian, including artifact loans, procurement assistance, and discretionary grants.

The campaign extends beyond the Smithsonian. A court-ordered inventory found that the National Park Service had removed at least 51 exhibits from 37 sites, including material about slavery and climate change. A federal judge ordered the exhibits restored, but the administration appealed.

This illustrates the danger. When inconvenient facts are softened or removed because they conflict with an officially preferred national narrative, public history shifts from inquiry to persuasion. When the government decides in advance which conclusions citizens should draw, persuasion can become propaganda.

Propaganda does more than distort the past. It limits what we can do tomorrow. Those who cannot admit mistakes cannot learn. A company convinced that it’s a 10 stops improving. A country taught that acknowledging failure is unpatriotic risks losing democracy’s most vital capacity: self-correction.

There is a revealing contradiction in Trump’s most famous slogan: Make America Great Again. MAGA acknowledges that America can lose its way and needs repair. But “again” points backward, tempting us to polish the past until it shines.

American exceptionalism need not mean American infallibility. The United States was an extraordinary political experiment, founded on ideas of representative government, liberty, and individual rights that inspired people around the world. Taking those ideals seriously requires examining the times the country betrayed them.

The Founders themselves were hardly unanimous about their country’s moral condition. At the Constitutional Convention, Gouverneur Morris called slavery a “nefarious institution” and “the curse of heaven” on the states where it prevailed. George Mason, himself a slaveholder, warned that “Providence punishes national sins, by national calamities.” Yet the Constitution compromised with slavery.

That does not reduce the founding to hypocrisy. It shows that people can accomplish great things even while tolerating profound injustice. Later generations inherit both the achievements and the unfinished work.

The Marquis de Lafayette understood that distinction. When Lafayette returned to the United States in 1824 as a celebrated hero of the Revolution, he remained devoted to the American experiment—and opposed to slavery. At Monticello, Israel Jefferson, an enslaved man who worked there, later recalled hearing Lafayette argue that enslaved people ought to be free and that no man could rightfully own his “brother man.”

Lafayette had risked his life for America. Challenging one of its greatest injustices did not make him hostile to the country. It meant he took its principles seriously.

Honest history explains American progress; it does not diminish America.

Give us Washington, the leader and slaveholder; Jefferson’s Declaration and his failures; westward expansion and its cost to Native Americans; Normandy and Jim Crow.

If America was always a 10, what exactly were all those Americans fighting to change?

Abolitionists, suffragists, civil rights marchers, reformers, and ordinary citizens did not make America less American by exposing the gap between ideals and reality. Much of what we celebrate as progress came because they refused to pretend the country had already arrived.

The Constitution does not proclaim a perfect Union. Its preamble speaks instead of forming “a more perfect Union.” Those two words matter. More perfect means unfinished. Improvement is possible. Tomorrow can be better because we recognize what was wrong with yesterday.

That chairman’s assertion stayed with me because it violated something I have come to believe about successful organizations, people, and countries. The moment you convince yourself you are a 10 is often the moment you stop improving.

America does not need to be told it has always been perfect. It needs honest history that shows what it accomplished and what Americans had to struggle to change.

That is not a rejection of America’s story. It is how the story keeps moving forward.

Wishes for America at 300

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Tue, 28 Jul 2026 15:16:21 +0000

We’re done celebrating America at 250. Now comes the question: What should we be able to celebrate when America turns 300?

In my new piece for The Hartford Courant, I argue that the next great civic advances should prioritize three goals:

Protect political equality
Treat education as civic infrastructure
Ensure affordable, accessible healthcare

These are the next reasonable steps. By our 300th, we should be judged on whether Americans can participate fully and fairly in the life of the country.

Return-to-Office Mandates Reveal a Crisis of Trust

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Mon, 13 Jul 2026 15:44:46 +0000

This article also appears in O'Dywer's PR.

In their New York Times opinion piece (The Secret Reason Bosses Want Everyone Back in the Office, Every Day of the Week, June 22, 2016), Adam Grant, Marissa Shandell, and Courtney Elliott offer a sharp explanation for why many bosses want employees back in the office full-time. Their argument centers on narcissism: some leaders who crave attention, status, and control may prefer workplaces where employees are physically present, visible, and available. The office becomes a source of validation. The boss walks through it and sees proof of authority.

Anyone who has worked for a status-conscious executive can recognize the pattern. Some leaders do not simply want work done. They want their importance affirmed, and a full office affirms it. Empty desks feel like rejection, and remote work can feel like a loss of relevance.

But narcissism may not tell the whole story. The push to return to the office also reveals a broader failure of leadership.

Remote and hybrid work require managers to do what good leaders should have been doing all along: set clear expectations, define success, communicate priorities, measure outcomes, and hold people accountable. When those disciplines are weak, the office becomes a substitute for management.

A leader who cannot articulate expectations may prefer a workplace where everyone stays within sight. A leader who cannot judge performance by results may rely on visible effort. A leader who has not learned to delegate may feel calmer when employees remain within reach. The office serves less as a place for collaboration and more as a tool for reassurance.

I learned this lesson the hard way. In the late 1990s, I led a successful department at a global PR agency. People wanted to join it. The team was engaged, the work was strong, and the business was highly profitable. I did not consider myself a micromanager, and by the usual definition, I was not. Yet my hands ended up being in nearly every project.

When senior management asked me to attend a leadership retreat run by the Center for Creative Leadership, I was initially offended. Why send me? No department seemed more energized, and none was delivering stronger financial results.

The experience changed my view. A team can be successful yet still be constrained by its leader. My close involvement had helped build the department, but it could also limit its growth. The business would only expand so far if every major decision, risk, or opportunity still passed too closely through me.

I became a champion of letting go. That did not mean abandoning standards or disappearing from the work. It meant trusting the people I had carefully chosen. It meant giving them more autonomy, more accountability, and more room to take risks, while making sure they knew I would back them up. The result was no less control in any meaningful sense. It had greater capacity, more initiative, and more opportunities for the team and the business.

That lesson applies directly to today’s office mandates. Trust is at the center of the debate. Remote work requires leaders to trust adults to act responsibly. Trust does not mean neglect. Employees who miss deadlines, avoid responsibility, or perform poorly should face consequences. But treating an entire workforce as suspect because some managers fear abuse is not leadership. It is anxiety turned into policy.

Anxiety also undermines delegation. Leaders who cannot trust employees outside their line of sight tend to hoard decisions, second-guess work, and create bottlenecks. They ask people to take ownership, then reclaim authority the moment work occurs outside their direct line of sight. A return-to-office mandate gives leaders a sense of control without requiring them to share power.

Presence can be valuable. Some conversations and brainstorming sessions work better face-to-face. Mentorship matters. New employees often learn by watching experienced colleagues navigate clients, meetings, setbacks, and internal politics. Creative work can benefit from time spent together in the same room.

Those are arguments for purposeful office use, not blanket mandates. A well-led company can decide which tasks benefit from proximity and which do not. A weaker company defaults to a rule.

The result is corporate theater. Desks are occupied, conference rooms are booked, and hallways are busy. Executives can walk through the office and feel reassured. But movement is not progress. A crowded office can still produce shallow work, weak decisions, and slow execution. A quiet home office can produce focus, judgment, and results.

Another motive deserves candor: real estate. Many companies signed costly long-term leases. Headquarters became monuments to ambition, status, and permanence. After the pandemic, empty floors made those choices look wasteful. Bringing workers back helps leaders justify the cost to themselves, their boards, and their shareholders.

That does not make office space worthless. It means office space should serve work, not the other way around. Leaders should ask which teams need shared days, which meetings require in-person attendance, how mentoring will be conducted, and what employees gain from commuting. “Because we have the space” is not a strategy. A lease is not a leadership strategy, and sunk costs should not dictate employee policy.

Grant and his co-authors are right to highlight narcissism among some executives. For some bosses, the office is a stage, and employees are the audience. But the deeper problem may be less theatrical and more pervasive. Many bosses want employees back because they have yet to learn to lead with trust, clarity, and results.

The office can support good leadership. It cannot replace it.

The Founders Are Still Warning Us, 250 Years Later

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Thu, 11 Jun 2026 16:08:08 +0000

As the United States approaches its 250th anniversary, we will hear tributes to the Founders and see politicians wrap themselves in the “Spirit of 1776.”

My new Hartford Courant opinion piece argues that we should stop treating the Founders as patriotic decoration and take their warnings about executive overreach, congressional weakness, and the use of public office for personal gain seriously.

American exceptionalism is best understood as a commitment to the restraint of power. That commitment is being tested.

Many who most loudly invoke the Founders are not preserving our inheritance. They are squandering it.

Honesty Is Not the Same as Transparency

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Wed, 27 May 2026 15:29:21 +0000

When I taught strategic communication at NYU, I emphasized a principle that is more misunderstood than ever: always be honest, but don’t assume you must disclose everything. Honesty is an ethical duty; openness is a matter of judgment.

That distinction matters in politics, business, and daily life. It is even more crucial in government, where leaders handle private, sensitive, or consequential information. Public officials should tell the truth, but avoid revealing everything on impulse.

Donald Trump has long blurred that line. He and his defenders equate indiscriminate disclosure with authenticity, as if speaking publicly automatically makes a statement honest, brave, or transparent. It does not. Recklessness is not candor, and indiscretion is not openness. Neither deserves applause.

Two recent episodes highlight this issue. They are not merely examples of poor taste or sloppy leadership; they reflect a deeper confusion about the true nature of honesty.

Earlier this spring, Trump publicly disclosed highly personal medical information about Rep. Neal Dunn of Florida. He said Dunn had been told he would be “dead by June.” Speaker Mike Johnson quickly cut in: “OK, that wasn’t public.” Reports confirmed Trump had revealed information that had not been public before.

The issue is not whether Trump was factually correct. Even if he was, the disclosure is not admirable. A president does not become more truthful by exposing someone else’s private medical crisis; doing so shows a lack of restraint, empathy, and judgment – not honesty. Telling the truth does not grant a license to violate every boundary.

The second example is more troubling because it involved military operations. At a White House briefing on the rescue of a downed American airman in Iran, Trump asked Joint Chiefs Chairman Gen. Dan Caine how many personnel had participated. Caine tried to prevent disclosure, responding, “I’d love to keep that a secret, Mr. President.” Trump persisted, saying it involved “hundreds and hundreds” of people. Media outlets described the exchange and the concerns about revealing sensitive operational details.

Again, the problem is not lying but rather the performance of candor without the discipline required of real leadership. The public deserves to know why a military action was taken, whether it was lawful, what it cost, the risks, and the possible outcomes. That does not mean, however, that a president should brush aside a general seeking to protect sensitive details in real time.

This is where the conversation often goes astray. Transparency does not mean total disclosure. The government should be open about decisions, motives, policies, and the use of power, but it should not treat privacy, confidentiality, or security as expendable. Mature honesty requires discretion.

We recognize this principle in every serious aspect of life. A doctor is expected to tell the truth without exposing a patient’s private condition. A lawyer must be candid without violating privilege. A friend should be honest without betraying a confidence just to appear blunt or “authentic.” The same standard should apply in public office: not every fact belongs on a podium, in a briefing room, or in a president’s improvisation.

Trump’s admirers often mistake his lack of filter for proof of authenticity. When he speaks impulsively, they label it as courage. When he is indiscreet, they interpret it as transparency. However, honesty is not about the volume or frequency of disclosure – it rests on whether what is said is true, responsible, and appropriate for the moment.

That was the lesson I tried to teach my students. As a country, we must reclaim it. Truth matters, and so does judgment. In public life, truth without judgment is not integrity – it is carelessness masquerading as virtue.

Brown Opened Doors, and Today’s Court Is Closing Them

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Sun, 17 May 2026 14:03:45 +0000

On this day in 1954, the Supreme Court unanimously decided Brown v. Board of Education, declaring racial segregation in public schools unconstitutional. It remains one of the Court’s most consequential decisions — not because it ended racism, inequality, or resistance to integration, but because it affirmed a principle the country had too often denied: separate is not equal.

The ruling was important enough to inspire a song. “Black and White,” written in 1954 by David I. Arkin and Earl Robinson, later became a major hit for Three Dog Night in 1972. But the group’s version omitted lyrics that directly celebrated the Court’s role:

“Their robes were black, their heads were white,

The schoolhouse doors were closed so tight,

Nine judges all set down their names,

To end the years and years of shame.”

Those lines captured a moment when the Supreme Court exercised its authority to expand freedom and strengthen the promise of equal citizenship. The Court did not solve America’s deepest problems. It did not end segregation on its own. Indeed, the backlash to Brown was fierce, sustained, and often successful. But the decision gave constitutional force to the idea that public institutions could not lawfully degrade children on account of race.

That is what makes today’s contrast so painful.

Instead of building on that legacy, the current Supreme Court’s conservative majority has too often moved in the opposite direction. In Shelby County v. Holder, the Court invalidated a key provision of the Voting Rights Act, opening the door to new voting restrictions in several states. In Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, the Court overturned Roe v. Wade, ending the federal constitutional right to abortion and leaving access subject to state law. Citizens United v. FEC helped unleash more outside money into American politics. Taken together, these decisions reflect not only legal reasoning but also a broader retreat from the spirit of inclusion and equality that Brown embodied.

The Court has also made it harder to challenge partisan gerrymandering in federal court, limited LGBTQ protections in public accommodations, made it harder to defend gun-safety laws, constrained environmental regulation, and expanded presidential immunity, all of which threaten basic democratic accountability. For example, after Shelby County, Texas and other states quickly implemented strict voter ID laws and reduced polling places, these measures disproportionately affected communities of color.

These are not isolated decisions. Proponents argue that the Court is restoring constitutional limits, protecting individual liberties, and correcting earlier judicial overreach. Critics see something very different: a broader legal and political project that shifts power away from voters, workers, consumers, people seeking health care, marginalized communities, and regulatory agencies — and toward corporations, wealthy interests, religious-liberty claimants, gun-rights advocates, and executive authority.

Reasonable people can disagree about constitutional interpretation. But we should not pretend the Court is merely calling balls and strikes. The judiciary is shaping the nation’s future as surely as Congress and the president. When the Court narrows voting rights, democracy suffers. When regulatory power weakens, public health and the environment suffer. When it removes protections people have relied on for generations, trust in the law suffers.

Brown reminds us that courts can open doors, but it also reminds us that progress is not inevitable. It must be demanded, defended, and renewed.

The lesson of Brown is not nostalgia. It is a responsibility. I still remember learning about Brown in school not as a dusty legal milestone but as proof that American institutions, however flawed, could be pushed toward justice. Progress happens when people organize, vote, litigate, teach, write, march, and refuse to accept injustice as settled law.

Seventy-two years ago, nine justices helped open the schoolhouse doors. Today, democracy requires us to keep them open — not through nostalgia, but through vigilance, voting, and organizing, and by refusing to treat the erosion of rights as normal. The promise of Brown endures only if we defend it together.

X Has a Free Speech Problem — and I'm Living It

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Thu, 16 Apr 2026 14:10:00 +0000

X recently suspended my account for “violating our rules against inauthentic behaviors.” That was the entirety of the explanation. X cited no specific post, identified no pattern of misconduct, and offered no definition of what, precisely, it considered inauthentic about my activity. There was no warning. I appealed, asked for specifics, and followed up. I received nothing in return. X’s own policies state that its authenticity rules target manipulation through fake accounts, coordinated behavior, and deceptive content — and that users may appeal suspensions made in error. In my case, the appeals process has led nowhere.

That silence should concern more than just me.

I was not impersonating anyone, using bots, running fake accounts, purchasing engagement, concealing my identity, or orchestrating any coordinated campaign. I posted under my own name, in my own voice, on matters of public concern. (You can still see my news and views on Threads.)

I also created images lampooning the president. After Trump decried the cost and design of the Obama library — and after renderings emerged of his planned library skyscraper-hotel-marina-event space complex — I created a parody concept for a “Trump Presidential Library.”

The post that appears to have triggered the suspension was a Trump-as-George-Washington cartoon captioned “I cannot tell a lie. Biden did it,” accompanied by commentary on the erosion of accountability and democratic norms.

That is called political speech. It is also called satire. Both have been protected forms of expression in democratic societies for centuries. And both were, by any reasonable definition, plainly authentic.

The contradiction is difficult to ignore. X accused me of “inauthentic behaviors” — yet every post was written under my own name, expressed my own views, and linked to my own commentary or clearly recognizable parody. Meanwhile, the broader ecosystem of political media on that same platform routinely carries content that is racist, threatening, dehumanizing, or incendiary.

Consider the record. The same platform that suspended me for political satire has hosted presidential posts threatening to annihilate an entire civilization, profane ultimatums directed at foreign governments, and language that, from any other account, would almost certainly trigger enforcement. The enforcement gap is not a matter of interpretation. It is a matter of record.

I condemned disinformation about vaccines, wrote about the politicization and demonization of science, criticized cuts to education and research, and voiced concerns about attacks on the news media and the degradation of truth in public life. Trump and many of his allies, by contrast, have normalized language that casts journalists as “enemies of the people,” opponents as “traitors,” and entire communities as threats — language that sits comfortably on the platform, uncontested and unenforced, and that routinely edges to the boundary of criminal incitement without quite crossing it.

Elon Musk acquired X with a promise to make it a more open arena for public expression. That promise deserves scrutiny when a real person, posting under his own name, can be suspended for political criticism and satire — and then offered nothing but silence in response. “Free speech” as a platform value cannot be selectively applied based on whose speech is at issue.

This is not a customer-service complaint. It is a question about who gets to speak in the defining public forum of our time — and who decides.

X is among the most consequential communications platforms in public life. Politicians use it to shape narratives, announce policy, and dominate news cycles. Journalists use it to report, distribute, and break news. Researchers and experts use it to interpret events in real time. X is, of course, a private company, and the First Amendment constrains government action — not the moderation decisions of private platforms. But that legal distinction does not end the inquiry. When a sitting president uses social media as a de facto channel of governance, and when participation in that public square can be revoked through vague accusations and opaque processes, platform governance becomes a matter of legitimate democratic concern.

Many people responded to my suspension by saying I was better off without it — that X has become a cesspool, that suspension is practically a badge of honor. I understood the sentiment. But that response, however satisfying, concedes too much. It accepts that a platform of this consequence can suppress lawful political opinion without evidence, without explanation, and without recourse — and that the appropriate response is simply to walk away.

Platforms have a genuine responsibility to remove spam, fraud, threats, harassment, and coordinated manipulation. No serious person disputes that. But when a platform accuses a user of “inauthentic behaviors,” it should be able to identify the conduct, cite the specific post, explain which rule was violated, and provide a genuine review process. Without that, policy becomes pretext, enforcement becomes theater, and whatever trust remains evaporates.

If a platform this powerful can silence lawful political speech this casually — with no justification, no process, and no accountability — the consequences extend well beyond any single user. For businesses, journalists, researchers, and policymakers who depend on X as a channel of record, the absence of due process is not a minor inconvenience. It is a societal risk. Platforms that want to be treated as essential public infrastructure must be held to the governance standards that come with that role.

This article also appears in O’Dywer’s PR.

Update, April 20, 2026: Well, it ended the way it started – without warning or explanation. The suspension is over. The point of my article remains the same, of course.

A Hundred Years Is Too Long to Wait

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Sun, 12 Apr 2026 15:27:00 +0000

Today is the anniversary of the Civil War’s opening shot. On April 12, 1861, Confederate forces fired on Fort Sumter, beginning a bombardment that would launch four years of slaughter. That war did not erupt because America had settled its deepest racial contradiction. It erupted because the country had postponed it — and postponement, in America, has a way of becoming a habit.

America has settled into a troubling rhythm: roughly every hundred years, the nation makes a major formal advance against racial injustice — only after long resistance, bitter struggle, and blood. The Declaration of Independence in 1776 gave us the principle. The 13th Amendment, ratified in 1865, abolished slavery. The Civil Rights Act of 1964 dismantled segregation and legal discrimination. None arrived cleanly or uncontested.

Start with the Declaration. Americans rightly celebrate it as the nation’s statement of human equality. But even at its creation, the promise was narrowed by political cowardice. Congress deleted Jefferson’s passage condemning slavery and the slave trade — in part to satisfy South Carolina and Georgia, and in part because northern commercial interests were implicated. The founding document offered a universal creed while shrinking from a full confrontation with human bondage. The first great American statement against inequality was compromised before the ink was dry.

Then came the century of evasion, rationalization, and bloodshed. Defenders of slavery wrapped themselves in the language of property, local control, and constitutional restraint. But the historical record is unambiguous: secession was driven by the determination to preserve slavery. Confederate vice president Alexander Stephens said so plainly — the Confederacy, he declared, rested on slavery and white supremacy as its cornerstone. Even emancipation was denounced as ruinous, lawless, and socially catastrophic. Yet the 13th Amendment, ratified in 1865, abolished slavery nationwide. It was a giant step, but one taken only after war, slaughter, and years of arguments designed to make justice seem impossible.

A century later, the country had to fight again over whether Black Americans would enjoy rights already promised on paper. The Civil Rights Act of 1964 outlawed segregation in public accommodations, addressed employment discrimination, and promoted school integration — but it did not emerge from consensus. It came after years in which Southern states and local authorities met civil rights demands with arrests, beatings, police dogs, fire hoses, and organized obstruction. In Birmingham, police attacked young demonstrators with dogs and high-pressure hoses. In Mississippi, Freedom Summer volunteers faced beatings, arrests, bombings, and murder. In Selma, state troopers brutally assaulted peaceful marchers on a bridge the whole country watched. The law passed, but force was used again and again to delay, block, and punish its moral logic.

That is the real pattern. America does move — but only after making the targets of injustice endure another generation, or three, of excuses. The 1770s gave us the promise. The 1860s abolished slavery. The 1960s dismantled legalized segregation. We should take hope from that progress, but not comfort from its pace.

A hundred years is too long to wait for another leap forward. We should not resign ourselves to hoping that the 2060s will finally bring the next great breakthrough. The pattern has repeated twice. A country that has already postponed justice through slavery, segregation, and generations of excuse-making forfeits the moral right to postpone it again. Refuse to let the pattern repeat a third time. Demand change now — not after another century of delay.

We're Paying $1 Billion to Fall Behind

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Mon, 30 Mar 2026 17:20:00 +0000

Every country makes mistakes. What’s harder to accept is when a country makes them on purpose—or at least knowingly. The United States is currently doing both, making choices that point not sideways, not slower, but backward in ways that could take a generation to undo.

The federal government recently agreed to pay roughly $1 billion to TotalEnergies to abandon offshore wind projects in U.S. waters. Those projects were expected to power more than a million homes. Instead, that capital is being redirected into dirtier, less sustainable oil and gas development. This is not deregulation. It is a deliberate, taxpayer-funded intervention to halt one form of domestic energy production in favor of another.

That alone should give pause. But it's part of a pattern—across energy, science, public health, civil rights, and institutional governance—that suggests the country is pulling away from the very foundations that built its strength. And not by accident.

Science and Research

Energy decisions make headlines. Science policy rarely does. But the consequences of underfunding it outlast any news cycle.

For decades, American leadership has been built on sustained investment in research through institutions like the National Institutes of Health and the National Science Foundation, investments that produced the breakthroughs defining modern life, from cancer therapies to semiconductors. Recent funding constraints and disruptions are already affecting research pipelines. Universities are scaling back. Grants are stalled. Researchers are reconsidering where to build their careers.

This isn't theoretical. It's arithmetic: slow the investment, slow the innovation, lose the ground. China has spent years building out its research capacity. The EU keeps deepening collaborative funding. The U.S. doesn't need to outspend them. But walking away from the table is a different thing entirely.

Public Health

The costs in public health are the most immediate. The United States spent decades creating a system capable of responding to outbreaks, developing vaccines, and protecting population health. It took a long time to build. It’s taking a far shorter amount of time to break.

Recent shifts in vaccine policy and public health messaging are accelerating that erosion. Growing political interference in agencies like HHS, combined with amplified skepticism toward vaccines despite overwhelming scientific consensus, is undermining the institutional confidence that makes public health systems work. Vaccines are one of the most effective tools medicine has ever produced, and the trust behind them took generations to earn.

Eroding confidence in that system doesn't create freedom. It creates a specific kind of vulnerability—the kind that shows up as outbreaks, as misinformation taking hold, as people dying from diseases we know how to prevent. And once that trust is gone, it doesn't come back easily.

Environmental Policy

Not every regulation is worth keeping. Some rules are outdated, some are redundant, and a serious case can be made for trimming them. But that's a different argument from what's actually happening.

Efforts to weaken water protections, emissions standards, and pollutant tracking may reduce compliance costs in the short term. But many of these protections were established after costly failures: industrial contamination, unsafe air, widespread health consequences. Rolling them back doesn't eliminate risk. It shifts it onto communities and future taxpayers. When guardrails are removed, the consequences tend to arrive later and cost more.

Voting Rights and the Press

A country's strength depends on whether people trust the system that governs them. The proposed SAVE Act would require documentary proof of citizenship to register to vote. Noncitizen voting is already exceedingly rare, yet millions of eligible Americans lack ready access to such documentation—rural voters, lower-income individuals, many married women whose legal names differ from their birth certificates. When barriers rise, access falls. Policies that reverse the trajectory toward broader participation reshape who governs and who does not.

The same pressure is bearing down on the press. The First Amendment isn't an abstraction—it's the mechanism by which power gets scrutinized, challenged, and held to account. When the government threatens broadcast licenses, targets specific media organizations through regulatory pressure, and repeatedly labels journalists as enemies of the state, the effect is a press that pulls its punches. A country without independent journalism doesn't become more stable. It becomes less informed, and more easily misled.

The Pattern

Each of these areas can be debated individually. But taken together, they point in the same direction: away from investment in the future, away from scientific expertise, away from broad democratic participation, and away from the independent institutions that hold power accountable. That is not a neutral shift. It is a deliberate one.

And because these systems are connected, the damage doesn’t stay in one place. Weaker research means slower medical breakthroughs and fewer competitive industries. A less trusted public health system means a less healthy, less productive workforce. And when people stop trusting institutions, the effects are harder to trace but impossible to ignore.

It's tempting to view these developments as inevitable, as if they're simply the product of forces too large to name or change. They're not. They are the result of decisions made by elected officials, supported by voters, and enabled by disengagement.

Many Americans supporting these policies are doing so in good faith, responding to legitimate concerns about economic security and eroding trust in government. But good intentions don't guarantee good outcomes. In practice, these policies often work against the very interests they claim to serve—gutting research slows the medical breakthroughs that save lives, weakening public health infrastructure puts families at greater risk, and turning away from future industries shrinks the economy those families depend on.

This isn’t really about left or right. It’s about whether the choices being made actually serve the people they’re supposed to serve.

The United States is not in irreversible decline. It remains one of the most dynamic and capable countries in the world. But direction matters.

Spending $1 billion to shut down offshore wind development is not the defining policy of this era. But it’s a clear signal of what the priorities are—and those priorities reach well beyond energy. Countries don’t usually fall behind all at once. They do it gradually, through decisions that each seem defensible on their own but add up to something much harder to reverse.

That process can be reversed. But it won't reverse itself. It takes attention and engagement—and if left unaddressed, it can last for a generation.

The Dissonance in Pharma DTC Erodes Credibility — and Limits Its Potential

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Wed, 04 Mar 2026 13:58:00 +0000

The future of DTC should foster understanding, trust, and improve clinical conversations.

Prescription-drug commercials have been a recognizable part of American TV for nearly 30 years. Their production values have kept up with the rest of the advertising world, and in the costliest broadcast spaces, they now look almost identical to ads for consumer tech, cars, and sports betting. As The New York Times reported, spending on direct-to-consumer drug advertising is rising again, driven by competition in high-profile therapeutic areas – a reminder that DTC advertising is not fading but growing in scope and influence.

I have been writing about DTC pharmaceutical ads for nearly 20 years, and the dissonance – cavorting cartoon characters or people climbing mountains while vital information is voiced over – has remained remarkably consistent. Patients and clinicians often start the clinical conversation inside a narrative that the advertising has already shaped.

DTC advertising is the biggest untapped resource for public health education in the country. The concern isn't about the presence of risk information; it's whether the overall experience helps people understand what those risks mean and how they should affect treatment choices.

An ad for Vanda Pharmaceuticals’ antipsychotic Fanapt highlights this disconnect: a calm voice lists stroke risk, cardiac complications and sudden death while smiling, anime-style characters move through bright, cheerful scenes. The disclosure follows regulations but trivializes the seriousness of the condition and distracts from the importance of the adverse-event information.

Regulators have started to recognize the gap between mere compliance and actual understanding. The FDA’s letter to Novo Nordisk about a TV commercial for oral Wegovy criticized how the ad implied broader emotional and lifestyle benefits than the evidence supports. In another letter concerning a commercial for argenx’s Vyvgart Hytrulo, the agency noted that “attention-grabbing visuals, frequent scene changes and background music” might hinder understanding of the major risk statement. That language matters because it acknowledges that production techniques influence how risk is perceived. However, it stops short of addressing the core creative decision in most branded campaigns – whether the story enhances the safety message or competes with it.

Direct-to-consumer advertising grew rapidly after the FDA relaxed its broadcast guidance in 1997 and finalized the approach in 1999. Drug names became part of everyday conversation. Awareness increased, but public trust in the industry did not follow the same trajectory. The American Medical Association’s 2015 call for a ban on DTC advertising reflected ongoing concerns that brand narratives can influence the clinical encounter before a diagnosis is made. Physicians interviewed by The Times this week described spending valuable visit time recalibrating expectations created by advertising – explaining why a widely promoted therapy may not be suitable or why its risks and benefits are more complicated than the commercial suggests. That debate is unfolding at a time when trust in health institutions remains fragile.

The conversation still tends to frame DTC as a choice between maintaining the current model and eliminating it. But this overlooks a bigger issue. The pharmaceutical industry now controls some of the most influential health-communication platforms in the country – including television, streaming, social media, search, and digital video. How this multi-channel infrastructure is used has huge implications for how patients understand their health.

That reach is most visible during the Super Bowl. In 2024, Pfizer chose not to promote a specific therapy but to “celebrate science” on its 175th anniversary. Instead, the message was muddled and abstract. Pfizer missed an opportunity – not because its creative execution was weak, but because the platform’s power far exceeded the depth of what it chose to say.

That same media moment has also shown what a different objective looks like. Novartis’ Super Bowl LX screening initiatives and Bayer’s heart-health risk campaign used the industry’s most expensive media real estate to encourage early detection and informed action. They are not simply creative templates for branded advertising; the regulatory environment is different. They demonstrate that when education takes priority, storytelling shifts – and viewers leave with knowledge rather than just an impression.

Branded advertising operates within stricter regulatory constraints, but it still makes choices about tone, pacing, and imagery. These choices determine whether safety information is incorporated into the story or hidden beneath it. The issue is not about fair balance. It's whether the surrounding narrative trivializes the disease and distracts from the risks that should influence treatment decisions.

In many product campaigns, the narrative reassures, while the safety information warns. The viewer receives two emotional signals at the same time and must reconcile them. This split may work well for recall, but it weakens the credibility on which long-term brand success now depends.

Eliminating DTC would remove a source of awareness that has encouraged patients to seek care earlier and discuss stigmatized conditions with their physicians. The opportunity is to use it more effectively. A better approach would replace distraction with decision support – focusing on the moments when a patient and clinician weigh options, reassess progress, and adjust the course if a therapy is not suitable. In this model, safety information is not an interruption; it becomes part of the narrative.

This isn't a call for longer risk language or more data on the screen. It's a call for creative alignment. When tone, imagery, and narrative support the medical reality instead of competing with it, the advertising sets the stage for the clinical conversation rather than pre-empting it.

That shift has business implications. The industry has long argued that informed patients achieve better outcomes. In a crowded and scrutinized market, credibility remains one of the few durable advantages for brands. Creative work that distracts from risk might boost short-term recall, but creative approaches that aid decision-making builds trust with patients, clinicians, and regulators.

Direct-to-consumer advertising has become a permanent feature of American culture. Its future credibility will rely more on whether it bridges the gap between marketing and medicine than on disclosure adherence. In a medium where a 30-second story can reach tens of millions, aligning the message with medical truth is no longer optional; it is essential for understanding.

The Problem with “Tough Guys” and Apologies

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Tue, 10 Feb 2026 17:48:00 +0000

For some leaders, refusing to apologize is a sign of strength. Apologies are often seen as a weakness or as proof that a leader has lost control of the narrative. The louder the criticism, the more they resist saying “I’m sorry.”

Recent events show how flawed this mindset is. After Donald Trump shared – and later deleted – a video showing a blatantly racist clip of Barack and Michelle Obama, criticism came quickly from across the political spectrum.

But what prolonged the controversy wasn’t the post itself; it was the response. When confronted, Trump stated flatly, “I didn’t make a mistake.”

That statement perfectly illustrates why so many public apologies fail before they even start. What’s notable, however, is that this refusal to accept responsibility is no longer just personal; it has become institutionalized. Trump operates a communications apparatus designed to quickly and aggressively deflect blame or dismiss it as media distortion.

Karoline Leavitt gave a clear example when she scolded the news media, saying, “Please stop the fake outrage and report on something today that actually matters to the American public.” In such an environment, offering an apology isn’t merely discouraged; it is fundamentally incompatible with the messaging strategy.

A helpful way to think about apologies comes from an unlikely source: Goldilocks and the Three Bears. In communication, especially with issues and crisis management, we constantly question whether a response is too much, too little, or just right. Apologies are no different. Does the situation call for one? And if so, will it land as too weak, overly apologetic, or just enough?

The problem isn’t that we apologize too often. It’s that we apologize poorly – or avoid it altogether.

As the importance of apologies has grown, so has the demand for them. But not because society has become more sensitive or civil. Increasingly, apologies are used as leverage – a way to put someone on the defensive. Perceive a slight? Demand an apology. In today’s world, it’s easy to see why leaders become defensive and why a blanket “never apologize” stance can seem appealing. Mitt Romney embraced that stance right in the title of his book, No Apology: The Case for American Greatness. There’s an argument that we’re entitled to this because of all the good the country has done in the world. But a history of good deeds, whether personal, corporate, or national, doesn’t shield anyone from responsibility when serious mistakes occur. Banking goodwill may buy some benefit of the doubt, but it doesn’t excuse causing harm.

After years of studying political, corporate, and personal apologies, I’ve realized it’s partly a discipline rather than a reflex – something that can be learned, refined, and measured. That realization led me to create what I call the 6 A’s of Apology:

Acknowledging that something has happened
Authentic expression of regret
Appropriate tone and language
Acceptable location, determining who and how many receive the message
Acting within the right timeframe
Announcing next steps

No apology can begin without acknowledgment. When a leader says, “I didn’t make a mistake,” the process ends before it starts. No acknowledgment, no acceptance, no empathy, and no repair. What may feel like defiance to the speaker often registers as indifference to the audience.

Bad apologies generate headlines of their own and can cause real harm. Actions that should help heal can instead deepen wounds. Silence, defensiveness, or half-hearted apologies often do more damage than saying nothing at all. A slow, insensitive response can overshadow good intentions and magnify the fallout.

Good apologies, however, can defuse tense situations and reduce media attention. They tend to shorten controversies rather than prolong them. They reaffirm shared values rather than challenge them.

This is where so-called “tough guys” often go wrong. They confuse apology with submission and assume that admitting fault means losing power. In reality, refusing to apologize often signals insecurity – fear that acknowledging error will shatter a carefully constructed image of dominance. When that fear is reinforced by an institutional communication strategy built around denial, it predictably fuels escalation rather than projecting strength.

Leadership isn’t about never being wrong. It’s about how you respond when you are, since responses determine both the extent of the damage and how long it lasts. How you say “I’m sorry” might matter more than the original mistake.

A sincere apology doesn’t weaken a leader. It demonstrates confidence, emotional intelligence, and moral clarity. The real weakness isn’t in apologizing; it’s in the inability – or unwillingness – to accept responsibility when it’s necessary.

The Last Laugh?

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Tue, 30 Sep 2025 11:51:00 +0000

Comedy, Dissent, and the Far Right’s Campaign to Silence Satire

We’re still laughing. For now.

American politics has long been divided along emotional lines: Republicans evoke fear, while Democrats respond with humor. The right energizes followers with grievance-filled slogans like “Take Our Country Back,” “Stop the Steal.” The most impactful responses from the left often come through late-night monologues, sketches, and stand-up routines.

Ask yourself: how many hard-right comedians with mainstream audiences can you name? Talk radio features conservative stars, and primetime opinion shows can rage for hours. However, the current lineup of popular political comedy mostly includes people like Bee, Colbert, Kimmel, Meyers, Noah, Oliver, and Stewart.

That imbalance matters. Humor is a strength of democracy. It punctures pomposity and invites self-correction. Fear narrows; comedy opens. Today, the far right isn’t trying to out-joke comedy – it’s trying to silence it through economic, political, and legal pressure.

Silencing the jesters

On September 17th, Disney’s ABC suspended Jimmy Kimmel Live after Kimmel made a remark about the assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk and then joked about Donald Trump’s reaction to a question about how he was dealing with the loss. (“I think very good,” Trump said. “And by the way, right there, you see all the trucks. They just started construction of the new ballroom for the White House, which is something they’ve been trying to get, as you know, for about 150 years. And it’s going to be a beauty.”).

The action followed public warnings from FCC Commissioner Brendan Carr that affiliates airing “distorted” content could face penalties; Nexstar, which owns many ABC affiliates and is seeking FCC approval for a $6.2 billion acquisition of TEGNA, preemptively removed the show.

Donald Trump publicly celebrated the suspension and called on other networks to cancel more late-night shows, signaling retaliation instead of debate.

The network returned Kimmel to his show on September 23rd after public outrage and a rash of cancellations of Disney-owned streaming services. But Nexstar and Sinclair, owners of local ABC affiliates, kept him off the air. That is, until September 26th, when they caved to the backlash and, more importantly, faced lower ratings without Jimmy.

Weeks earlier, in July, CBS canceled The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, officially citing financial reasons related to the Paramount–Skydance deal. Since Colbert had criticized that very merger, the move raised questions – fair or not – about whether corporate and political interests were aligned against a prominent satirist.

These examples reveal a larger pattern: dissent expressed through comedy is being labeled as distortion, punished as indecency, or viewed as a regulatory liability. Some critics argue that these recent cancellations are no different from ABC’s 2018 decision to cancel “Roseanne” after Roseanne Barr tweeted a racist insult about former Obama adviser Valerie Jarrett. However, that comparison is misleading. Barr’s case involved a private employer enforcing conduct standards after an openly racist outburst. The attacks on Colbert and Kimmel today are about political revenge and corporate caution in response to satire targeting those in power. One concerns accountability for hate speech; the other aims to intimidate dissent. Conflating them is a false equivalency that hides the real danger.

Lessons from the past

The recent threats by the FCC to revoke broadcast licenses are new, but individual comedians facing government pressure and legal threats are not. Lenny Bruce, a pioneering comic of the 1950s and 60s, was repeatedly arrested on obscenity charges for routines that challenged religious and political authorities. His prosecutions discouraged performers and sparked national debates about free speech. George Carlin, another legend of political comedy, was arrested in 1972 for performing his 'Seven Dirty Words' routine. The case, FCC v. Pacifica Foundation, reached the Supreme Court, which upheld the FCC’s authority to regulate 'indecent' broadcasts. Both Bruce and Carlin show that even in a democracy, government institutions have tried to punish comedians when their words challenged prevailing norms or threatened those in power.

Historians note that autocrats have always feared humor. In 1930s Nazi Germany, Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels reacted angrily to satire, considering it as a threat to morale and authority. He shut down the Berlin cabaret Die Katakombe, and its host Werner Finck was detained in a camp; later, Finck was banned by the Reichskulturkammer. Performers like Fritz Grünbaum and Paul O’Montis faced persecution or death.

Turkey under Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has repeatedly imprisoned satirists, from the 2016 prosecution of German comedian Jan Böhmermann to the 2025 arrest of staff at the satirical magazine LeMan. In North Korea, humor is tightly controlled by the state; in 2016, Kim Jong Un even banned sarcasm, fearing it was used to mock him. Remember the death threats he made after the release of “The Interview”? China fined comedian Li Haoshi’s company $2 million in 2023 for a joke about the military, and censors foreign sitcoms that cross political red lines. In Russia, Vladimir Putin’s government canceled the satirical puppet show Kukly in 2002, called dissenting comedians 'foreign agents,' and has jailed or exiled performers who mocked the war in Ukraine.

They understood what modern cognitive science confirms: emotion influences people more than facts. Comedy, however, has always been a remedy for fear. No wonder authoritarian regimes want to eliminate the jokes. Laughter exposes their fears and threatens their hold on power.

Why this matters

Comedy is not trivial. It’s one of democracy’s pressure valves – a way for ordinary citizens to laugh at the powerful and prevent fear from swallowing the public square.

Lyndon Johnson, of all people – the powerful, driven, bullying, visionary president – understood the importance of humor and free speech. Though the Smothers Brothers (popular back in the day) performed a controversial satire of him and his Vietnam War policy on their TV show, LBJ said:

“It is part of the price of leadership of this great and free nation to be the target of clever satirists. You have given the gift of laughter to our people. May we never grow so somber or self-important that we fail to appreciate the humor in our lives.”

Contrast this with Trump’s vindictiveness – gloating over Kimmel’s removal and publicly urging other networks to cancel shows. The difference isn’t about taste in comedy; it’s about whether satire is recognized as part of the democratic bargain.

If the far right succeeds in silencing satire – through lawsuits, regulatory threats, and corporate caution – we’ll lose more than just late-night shows. We’ll lose one of the oldest, most humane defenses against authoritarian politics.

Democracy cannot be sustained by fear and force. It requires dissent – even when dissent comes as a joke. The far right understands this. That’s why it’s trying to kill the laughter. The question is whether we will let it.

Calling All Optimists

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Mon, 22 Sep 2025 12:12:00 +0000

The canary in the coal mine of free speech has died. We are living in dangerous times for truth.

The American public square is under attack – not just from misinformation and propaganda, but also from systemic forces that seek to silence dissent, control what we hear, and limit the scope of legitimate debate.

If optimism means believing change is possible, then today, optimism requires courage. This is a call to those who still believe facts matter, who refuse to give in to despair, and who want to face what is happening honestly. Your ideas and perspectives are needed.

The New Reality: Power, Pressure, and Fear

You probably heard that Disney’s ABC abruptly pulled Jimmy Kimmel Live off the air after his comments about the assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk. The decision was made quickly after the FCC chair threatened fines and license reviews for broadcasters who aired what he called “distorted” content. Nexstar, which owns 32 ABC affiliates and is seeking regulatory approval for a multibillion-dollar acquisition, proactively stopped airing the show.

Only weeks earlier, CBS canceled The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, officially citing financial reasons. Yet many pointed out the timing: Reports indicated that political and corporate pressures influenced the decision because of the impending Paramount-Skydance merger.

These are not minor programming changes. These actions go beyond being a pattern or signal. They are the predicted outcomes from the Project 2025 playbook.

Some will argue that this is no different from ABC’s 2018 decision to cancel “Roseanne” after Roseanne Barr posted a racist tweet about former Obama adviser Valerie Jarrett. But don’t fall for this false equivalency, this form of whataboutism. In Barr’s case, the network acted in direct response to a personal racist outburst from its star, behavior that violated company policy and alienated advertisers. In the current situations with Colbert and Kimmel, comedians are being removed not for violating standards of decency but for satirizing those in power. One involves private accountability for bigotry; the other involves political pressure and corporate leverage to silence dissent. Do not conflate the two; it only serves to erode our ability to discern real threats to free expression.

It’s not new, of course. From the start of his first campaign, Donald Trump has frequently called the mainstream press “the enemy of the people.” He has threatened to revoke licenses, sue outlets into silence, and openly praised actions that remove critical voices from the airwaves.

This is not just mere bluster; it reflects an ongoing strategy to undermine independent journalism and weaken the institutions that mediate truth. If the President can decide what content is “distorted,” what is “garbage,” or what qualifies as “radical,” and if regulators and corporations act accordingly, then the line between governance and censorship has already begun to disappear.

The Battlegrounds of Truth

If there is a chance to preserve our Constitution, restore democratic values, bridge the deepening chasm between left and right, and combat the increasing incivility infecting our country, we must at a minimum, have plans and commit resources to fight mis/disinformation and propaganda.

This is where the community of optimists must come together and find some solutions. No one can solve this on their own. Right now, I have four strategic imperatives and a lot of questions.

Invest in education and media literacy. But how can this be done when government is defunding public education, dismantling resources, and actively attempting the elimination of the Department of Education? How can media literacy flourish when the very structures that support critical thinking are being eroded?

Support independent journalism. But how can this be achieved when newsroom employment has dropped by more than a quarter since 2008, when hundreds of local communities have become “news deserts,” and when media ownership is increasingly concentrated in partisan corporations or wealthy individuals? When “both sides” rhetoric or “everyone’s biased” framing dominates (False Equivalencies: The Danger of Treating All Information Equally), lies are elevated to the same plane as facts.

Debunk falsehoods effectively. But how can we do this when the number of professional journalists and fact-checkers has fallen sharply, and when falsehoods travel faster and further online than carefully reported truths? As cognitive linguist George Lakoff argues, what people believe to be true can outweigh what is demonstrably true.

Increase transparency on social media. But how can this happen when platforms are controlled by highly partisan owners and global corporations, when algorithms are hidden, and when accountability mechanisms are weak or nonexistent?

The Cost of Silence

We are closer than some realize to a media ecosystem defined not by freedom but by fear, not by evidence but by power. The decline of independent journalism, the weaponization of regulatory agencies, the concentration of media ownership, and the replacement of truth with belief all point in one direction: a society where public discourse no longer functions.

Today’s optimism does not mean ignoring these dangers. It means refusing to look away, confronting the reality before us, and demanding accountability. The question is not whether the crisis is coming. It is already here. The question is what we, the citizens, do in response?

Please respond.

Scientific Snobbery and Other Acts of Institutional Malpractice

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Wed, 03 Sep 2025 17:31:00 +0000

Arthur Caplan’s important new EMBO Reports essay, “How stupid has science been?” serves as a powerful reminder that for decades, much of the scientific community viewed public communication as a career liability – the Sagan Effect, because many regarded the famed astronomer with disdain for trying to explain science in simple, relatable terms.

That cultural snobbery mattered. It left many citizens unprepared to evaluate claims and ceded ground over to the ill-informed, propagandists, and those seeking to manipulate others. Snobbery created a vacuum, but if we only focus on scientists’ failures, we’ll miss the larger structural forces now fueling mistrust and politicization – forces that must be addressed directly if we want science (and our health and global competitiveness) to recover.

Start with the partisan divide in trust. Pew Research Center finds confidence in scientists remains higher among Democrats than Republicans, and the gap widened during and after the pandemic. The pattern shows that party identity influences whether evidence is trusted – regardless of facts or how skillfully scientists explain it.

It’s worth remembering that science wasn’t always a partisan issue. America’s main science agencies were created through mid-century consensus, not by culture-war reactions. The CDC began in 1946 as a malaria-control effort that evolved into the foundation of the nation’s public health system; the NSF was established in 1950 when President Truman created it for “research driven by curiosity and discovery”; the NIH’s history dates back to the 1887 Hygienic Laboratory.

But now, active political interventions have been layered onto the federal science apparatus. Recently, the White House fired CDC Director Susan Monarez weeks after she took office, prompting senior resignations and raising alarms about political control of public health decisions. The administration also proposed slashing NIH’s budget by roughly 40 percent (about $18 billion). Even if Congress moderates these proposals, they signal that federal science has become a partisan battleground.

Performance and integrity are vital for building trust. Americans remember serious ethical and governance failures—like the inhumanity of the Tuskegee syphilis study and the retracted, heavily debunked Wakefield paper linking vaccines to autism—because they shattered the expectation that science self-corrects quickly and transparently.

Finally, our news and information ecosystem supercharges falsehoods. A study of millions of tweets published in Science showed that false news spreads “farther, faster, deeper” than truth – mainly because people share novelty and outrage, and platforms amplify it. That’s a systemic issue; clearer language from scientists helps but can’t, on its own, beat virality.

The trust dividend is pragmatic, not poetic. When evidence prevails, patients receive faster diagnoses and fewer risky detours; businesses scale sooner because regulators trust transparent methods; schools update curricula without culture-war spectacles; and cities act on air and water data before crises metastasize. That’s why the antidote to politicized science isn’t just speeches but a system: clear standards, timely corrections, and public dashboards showing how evidence guides decisions. Consistently doing this doesn’t just reduce tension—it boosts the nation’s ability to solve problems. Communication matters, yes, but performance plus transparency are what turn skeptics into stakeholders.

Certainly, talented public communicators like Neil deGrasse Tyson, Brian Cox, Michio Kaku, Hank Green, and Jessica Knurick, along with training hubs like Stony Brook University’s Alan Alda Center, have entered the scene. Helpful, but far from enough. These efforts must multiply a thousand, even a million times, reaching every part of the country.

So, yes: some snobbery initially created a vacuum. But now, polarization, policy shocks, long-term under-investment, governance failures, and algorithmic virality cause most of the damage. It’s a monumental problem, and we cannot wait for Congress to take meaningful action.

1. Scientists: make communication a core, even mandatory, part of your role, not just a side activity. Back in 2006, I urged scientists and doctors in Nature Biotech to make science more understandable and accessible to the public. It’s not about dumbing things down; it's about making them simple and relevant. If your research is funded by the public, explaining and justifying it is a service. Include a clear, plain-language summary on every paper and preprint; hold regular public Q&A sessions with schools, libraries, and faith groups; and include communication achievements in promotion and tenure dossiers.

2. Media: stop presenting “both sides” equally; emphasize the strength of evidence. False equivalence turns well-established science into a debate show. Use proportional balance: give more coverage to claims supported by strong evidence and less to fringe assertions unless the story specifically addresses misinformation. As I’ve argued elsewhere in “False Equivalencies: The Danger of Treating All Information Equally,” giving equal time to unequal sides misleads intentionally.

3. Schools: focus on teaching how to think rather than just memorizing facts. We don’t need every student to become a scientist, but every citizen should be able to recognize evidence, uncertainty, and tradeoffs. Make the scientific method a regular part of education from middle school onward, pairing it with statistics, probabilistic reasoning, and media/digital literacy. Balance STEM with the humanities so students can grasp ethics, history, and policy contexts.

4. Politicians: be the local leaders science needs. Establish a standing science advisory group in your office composed of accomplished professionals from nearby universities and health systems. Hold regular evidence briefings on issues important to your constituents (e.g., climate change, mental health, vaccine guidance, opioids, air, water, and soil safety). When guidance shifts, announce it openly and explain why. Leadership isn’t about having all the answers; it’s about showing your process.

The current politicization is (hopefully) temporary, not unavoidable. We can reverse it, but only if we address and invest in all the root causes—not just the easiest or least controversial ones. We must be brave and determined before we become sicker, poorer, and even more vulnerable.

Waste, Fraud, and Abuse: The Convenient Scapegoat Undermining the Public Good

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Sun, 08 Jun 2025 18:20:00 +0000

In nearly every budget debate or campaign season, some politician inevitably resorts to the same rhetorical cudgel: "We need to eliminate waste, fraud, and abuse."

The public has heard this messaging so often that it hardly registers as spin anymore. However, the real danger is not rhetorical fatigue. Politicians increasingly use this catchall phrase to justify deep and often damaging cuts to essential public programs under the guise of efficiency and fiscal responsibility. Moreover, the phrase suggests that government dysfunction is uniquely excessive, conveniently ignoring comparable – and sometimes worse – inefficiencies in the private sector.

Government Waste: Real, but Rarely the Root Problem

No one claims the government spends every tax dollar perfectly. In a vast federal budget nearing $7 trillion, errors and mismanagement occur, but scale matters. According to a 2021 report by the Government Accountability Office (GAO), the estimated total for improper payments, including fraud and administrative errors, was about $281 billion. That’s a lot of money and highlights the need for improvement, but in absolute terms, it’s approximately 4% of the federal budget.

Even that number can be misleading. Improper payments include missing documentation or timing errors, not fraud – for instance, much of the inappropriate spending in Medicare and Medicaid results from paperwork issues.

Government programs are also subject to ongoing review and evaluation. Agencies like the GAO and Offices of Inspector General across departments conduct hundreds of audits each year, issuing corrective recommendations and triggering recoveries. In short, the system is designed to detect and address waste, unlike many areas of the private sector, where transparency is optional. It’s alarming, however, that mass firings of inspectors general by this administration will undermine a key mechanism to ensure proper oversight.

The Private Sector's Glass House

Now compare this to corporate America. Fraud and abuse in business are often widespread and lucrative… until the bubble bursts.

Major scandals, such as Enron, Theranos, Wells Fargo's fake accounts, and Purdue Pharma's opioid deception, show how corporate fraud can persist with little scrutiny. According to the Association of Certified Fraud Examiners (ACFE), the typical organization loses 5% of its annual revenue to fraud, and global losses are estimated at $4.7 trillion per year.

Even beyond fraud, businesses waste billions on ineffective strategies, failed mergers, excessive executive compensation, and short-term thinking. One infamous example is WeWork, which burned through $11 billion in private funding in just a few years with little to show for it.

Misusing the Phrase to Shrink Government

So why is "waste, fraud, and abuse" such an effective – and dangerous – phrase in politics? Because it creates the illusion that deep cuts carry no real consequences, politicians propose slashing food and housing assistance, healthcare, education, research, housing, and environmental protections while claiming they're merely cutting waste.

Consider the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP). Critics often mention fraud as a reason to cut benefits; however, the USDA reports that SNAP's fraud rate is less than 1.5%, and the overall payment error rate is under 7%. Most fraud cases involve retailers rather than individual recipients.

Or consider Social Security. According to the Social Security Administration's Office of the Chief Actuary, the program's administrative overhead is under 1% of total outlays, making it vastly more efficient than private insurance providers, which routinely spend 15% or more on overhead.

The High Cost of Reckless Cuts

The political appeal of targeting "waste, fraud, and abuse" is that it promises a win-win: cutting spending without hurting people. But in reality, many recent and proposed cuts – especially in science, education, health, and environmental protection – impose enormous costs on the country, both immediately and over time.

In early 2025, Congress framed cuts to NIH and NSF funding as fiscal restraint. The actual result has been a spike in lab closures, layoffs among research staff, and a growing exodus of early-career scientists to Europe, Canada, and Asia. The long-term cost of this brain drain will be fewer breakthroughs in cancer, Alzheimer's, climate science, and dozens of other vital areas.

The Department of Education (DOE) doesn’t stand behind education. The Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) is weakening the public health and our global position as the leader in medical research. The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) is failing to protect the environment. An internal report states that the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) is unprepared for emergencies. The Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) is dropping its investigations into government corruption and fraud. The list of these outrageous ironies goes on.

When the US halts investment in its capacity, it loses more than just money on a balance sheet; it loses its way. People are left behind, and time, trust, talent, and opportunities are wasted.

Yes, let's reduce inefficiency and prosecute fraud. But let's also acknowledge the value and accountability inherent in public programs and resist lazy narratives that advance political agendas more than serve the public interest.

Ultimately, using "waste, fraud, and abuse" as a pretext for cutting social investments isn't about good governance. It's about avoiding hard choices and masking bad ones.

The Fools of April

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Thu, 17 Apr 2025 15:29:00 +0000

I remember looking forward to April Fools’ Day – the gags, the puns, and the harmless pranks that sparked laughter or, at least, a good groan. This year? It felt like April Fools just disappeared. Hardly anyone I know made the slightest attempt to lighten the day. The world felt too heavy. The jokes, if they existed, weren’t funny anymore.

Years ago, some stories we see now might have given us pause: Wait, that can’t be real… is this an April Fools’ joke? But today, there’s no punchline – just policy. April isn’t over yet, but let’s review a few.

Universities Defunded

The Trump Administration intensified its campaign against higher education institutions, citing antisemitism as the justification for funding cuts and other punitive measures.

It’s offensive. It’s manipulative.

Let’s not forget the 2017 “Unite the Right Rally” in Charlottesville, Virginia, where clashes between white nationalists, neo-Nazis, and other far-right groups resulted in the death of a counter-protester and injuries to others. Donald Trump commented, "You had some very bad people in that group, but you also had very fine people on both sides."

This isn’t policy; it’s political retribution dressed up as civil rights enforcement. Antisemitism must be addressed in the strongest terms. But suppressing academic freedom while harboring white nationalist sympathizers exposes the Administration's contradictory and hypocritical approach to addressing discrimination and protecting civil liberties.

Cutting Science at the Knees

What began as a Silicon Valley mantra – “move fast and break things” – has been embraced by this Administration as its governing philosophy. The problem? Government is not a start-up; it is the infrastructure that binds society together. It is being dismantled in the name of speed, spite, and spectacle.

The U.S. National Institutes of Health (NIH) terminated nearly 800 research projects with lightning speed, reclaiming more than $2.3 billion allocated to researchers. This could mean potential cancer treatments, rare disease therapies, and mental health innovations – all gone.

Dr. Peter Hotez, from the Baylor College of Medicine, warned, “Anti-science has become a dangerous social force that threatens both our national security and global stature as a nation renowned for its research institutions and universities.” NYU Bioethicist Dr. Arthur Caplan put it more bluntly: “Trump's anti-science, dangerous HHS head and their oddball gang of misinformers are now firmly in charge of federal biomedical policy.”

Those concerns deepened this month when Dr. Peter Marks, the highly respected head of the FDA's vaccine division, was forced to resign. Vaccine expert Dr. Paul Offit at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia put it bluntly: “RFK Jr. is now the wolf guarding the hen house.”

Healthcare isn’t the only scientific discipline on the irrational chopping block. The Trump Administration has proposed significant budget cuts to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), including plans to eliminate its climate research division, the Office of Oceanic and Atmospheric Research, and several other NOAA offices. These cuts could devastate weather and climate research, potentially crippling industries like agriculture that rely on accurate weather and climate data. The reductions may also hinder research on severe weather events that affect virtually everyone, such as storms and tornadoes.

All of this uncertainty, combined with the hostility toward science and higher education, could have a generational impact on U.S. research and competitiveness: more than 75% of respondents to an informal Nature poll of readers who are scientists said that they were considering leaving the country.

We’re witnesses to the dismantling of the innovation engines that have powered American progress for more than a century.

Due Process, Discarded

The Department of Homeland Security proposed new rules allowing expedited deportations without a court hearing for certain noncitizens. According to the Migration Policy Institute, similar fast-track removal programs in the past have raised serious due process concerns, particularly regarding access to legal representation and the risk of wrongful deportations.

The dangers are not theoretical. A federal judge in Maryland issued strong reprimands to the Trump Administration for failing to comply with a Supreme Court order requiring the release of Kilmar Armando Abrego Garcia, who had been wrongfully deported to a notorious supermax prison in El Salvador. “To date nothing has been done,” said Judge Paula Xinis. “Nothing.”

Garcia, who has no criminal record, entered the U.S. illegally; however, in 2019, an immigration judge granted him “withholding of removal” to El Salvador due to his “well-founded fear of future persecution” from a violent gang known as Barrio 18.

Now Trump is floating the idea of sending “homegrown criminals” – U.S. citizens – to the same prison.

Rolling Out the Propaganda Welcome Mat

Also this month, Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced the closure of the office that tracks disinformation from China, Russia, Iran, and other foreign actors. This office had been monitoring disinformation campaigns by rival powers and terrorist groups while also publishing relevant reports. James P. Rubin, a former State Department official who led the precursor to the office during the Biden administration, stated, “This amounts to a form of unilateral disarmament in the information warfare Russia and China are conducting all over the world.”

The Trump Administration has also dismantled efforts to monitor U.S. elections for foreign interference. The New York Times reported, “Those employees tried to combat false content online and worked on broader safeguards to protect elections from cyberattacks or other attempts to disrupt voting systems.”

We are blinding ourselves as our adversaries continue to become much more aggressive in spreading disinformation, creating division, and inciting violent acts.

A Trade War on Ourselves

Then came the tariffs.

Trump reimposed a 10 percent baseline tariff on nearly all imported goods this month, marking one of the most sweeping trade policy shifts in modern U.S. history. Select countries, particularly China, were hit with much steeper penalties, with total tariffs on Chinese imports reaching as high as 145 percent. Mexico and the European Union faced additional levies ranging from 20 to 25 percent.

Is this to rebalance trade? Reshore manufacturing? Let’s be clear: there is no endgame. The world is left to guess. Nobel Prize-winning economist Paul Krugman said, “Uncertainty created by ever-changing tariff plans is arguably a bigger problem than the tariffs themselves."

But Trump boasted, “These countries are calling us up, kissing my ass” to negotiate deals. “We need to teach these countries a lesson – they’ve been laughing at us for years,” he said.

The markets showed no signs of laughter. The Dow plunged by more than 4,000 points in just two days.

Financial titans are no longer able to stay quiet. Jamie Dimon, CEO of JPMorgan Chase, said in his annual shareholder letter, "Trump's tariffs will likely increase inflation and are causing many to consider a greater probability of a recession.” Larry Fink, CEO of BlackRock, stated: "Most business leaders from our portfolio companies say we are probably in a recession right now." And Ken Fisher, Chairman of Fisher Investments, criticized the tariffs as: "Stupid, wrong, arrogantly extreme."

So... Where’s the Joke?

These aren’t mistakes; they’re not even misguided policies. They are intentional. In many cases, the Administration and millions of supporters and enablers take pride in that.

What’s chilling is not only the content of the decisions; it’s the logic (or lack thereof) behind them: reverse what my predecessor did, punish ideological opponents, and provoke simply for provocation’s sake.

The cruelty isn’t a byproduct. It’s the point.

A Call to Sanity and Humanity

April was once a time for pranks, laughter, joy, curiosity, and creativity. But here’s the thing: it’s still possible to reclaim that spirit. We can resist the normalization of chaos and reject leaders who govern through vendetta.

We can demand compassion in immigration policy, invest in education, showcase scientific evidence, and demonstrate humility in power.

Let’s revive the best parts of ourselves and our institutions. Let us be a nation where absurdity is confined to comedy, not policy.

Let’s stop the fools of April from writing our future.

Craving Reliability in an Unreliable World

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Wed, 12 Mar 2025 15:30:00 +0000

There was a time when life had a rhythm and a structure that provided a sense of stability. New automobile models from major manufacturers debuted in the fall, coinciding with the fresh lineup of television shows for the next year. Political campaigns had defined seasons, unlike the perpetual, endless cycles we see today. People consumed news in predictable doses – morning or evening newspapers and the 6 o’clock broadcast. Then came 1980, along with CNN’s 24-hour news cycle.

I like a fast pace. I like action. But over the past few decades, the world has been accelerating toward a state of constant stimulation, creating a culture of immediacy, anxiety, and FOMO (fear of missing out).

The erosion of reliability and dependability – qualities that once defined institutions, businesses, and even personal relationships – has led to a more volatile society. When everything is in flux, from how we consume news to how governments operate, uncertainty becomes the norm. The modern political climate, typified by Mark Zuckerberg’s ethos of a “move fast and break things” mentality, exacerbates this instability, making it difficult to trust that the systems designed to serve us will endure.

The Cost of Constant Change

At the heart of reliability is consistency. Toyota outpaced U.S. stalwarts not merely by selling cars but by building its reputation on reliability. McDonald’s expanded nationwide and globally because customers always knew what to expect – a dependable product that felt familiar. Similarly, FedEx built an empire on the promise of guaranteed delivery times, reinforcing the idea that businesses thrive when they prioritize reliability over disruption.

Contrast this with today’s landscape: streaming services release entire seasons at once, disrupting the traditional weekly anticipation of new episodes. The news cycle refreshes every second, rendering yesterday’s headlines irrelevant before they can be fully processed. In politics, policies and positions can shift overnight, with leaders reversing their stances as quickly as a spreading rumor or a social media trend. This constant churn creates instability and fosters a culture where nothing feels secure.

However, this doesn't mean that change is inherently negative. Adaptation is essential for growth, and businesses, governments, and individuals must evolve in response to new realities. The key lies in understanding when and how to change in a way that preserves trust and stability. JCPenney serves as a cautionary example of how abrupt, poorly executed changes can backfire. In 2011, CEO Ron Johnson aimed to revitalize the department store by eliminating sales and discounts in favor of everyday low prices. Although his intention was to modernize the brand, the drastic shift alienated loyal customers who were accustomed to bargain hunting. The outcome was a significant decline in sales and consumer trust. This example demonstrates that while change is often necessary, it must be managed carefully to ensure it aligns with customer expectations and core brand values.

The Psychological Toll of Instability

Stability is not merely a luxury; it is essential for mental well-being. When individuals know they can depend on certain structures, it eases stress and anxiety. Now, work emails arrive at all hours, and the expectation for immediate responses intensifies burnout. The line between personal and professional life has become blurred, making it difficult to truly disconnect.

In the political arena, the unpredictability of governance has heightened public anxiety. Legislative norms that once ensured steady, incremental change have been abandoned in favor of radical shifts. The chaotic management of Twitter (now X) following Elon Musk’s acquisition illustrates the dangers of impulsive, reactionary decision-making. Abrupt mass layoffs, policy reversals, and inconsistent enforcement of rules have created an unstable platform where neither users nor advertisers know what to expect. Similarly, the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), influenced by Musk, has eliminated government jobs without a clear long-term strategy, leading to service disruptions in crucial areas such as veterans’ affairs and nuclear security. This instability erodes public trust and intensifies societal stress.

The recent trend of dismantling policies without clear replacement strategies – whether in healthcare, environmental protections, or economic regulations – erodes confidence in institutions. People question whether today’s rules will still apply tomorrow, making long-term planning nearly impossible. The whipsaw of on-again, off-again tariffs, for example, has thrown the global economy into turmoil.

The Importance of Dependability in Leadership and Institutions

Strong societies rely on dependable leadership. The most outstanding leaders – from Franklin D. Roosevelt to Angela Merkel—are remembered not for their flashiness but for their steady hands during turbulent times. Their decisions instilled confidence because they were predictable and rooted in principles rather than short-term expediency.

An article titled “The Surprising Trait Google Looks For To Identify Potential Leaders” by Walter Chen emphasizes a similar principle in business. Chen states, “At Google, they're obsessive about looking at data to determine what makes employees successful, and what they found in the numbers was surprising. The most important character trait of a leader is one that you're more likely to associate with a dull person than a dynamic leader: predictability. The more predictable you are, day after day, the better.” Leaders who are erratic or reactionary create uncertainty, which ultimately undermines efficiency and morale.

In business, companies that uphold their commitment to quality and service withstand the test of time. Apple’s focus on long-term reliability in its products has cultivated a loyal customer base. Their ecosystem strategy ensures that devices work together seamlessly, reinforcing consumer trust.

Reclaiming Reliability in an Unstable World

To counter the chaos, we must collectively re-emphasize the importance of dependability. Businesses should prioritize consistent service, and governments should support measured, sustainable reforms instead of reactionary changes. Individuals can foster reliability in their lives by following through on their commitments, maintaining integrity, and building trust within their communities.

The world may never return to the slower pace of the past, but that doesn’t mean we have to accept unpredictability as the new standard. Stability is not a relic; it’s a choice. In an era marked by constant disruption, the ability to offer reliability and dependability is more valuable than ever.

Nuance Is Out – It Needs to Come Back

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Mon, 03 Mar 2025 13:49:00 +0000

The Rise of Binary Thinking in Public Discourse

In today’s world, nuance is rapidly disappearing. Politics, media, and public debate have become dominated by black-or-white, yes-or-no thinking and communication. Leaders and decision-makers no longer have patience for complexity; instead, they opt for sweeping, sometimes incendiary language that may look decisive but often creates more harm than good.

The consequences of this shift can be seen in political rhetoric, media coverage, corporate decision-making, and public policy. From government leaders passing policies without considering long-term effects to social media reducing issues to simplistic slogans, the ability to grapple with complexity has all but vanished.

This lack of nuance is not just frustrating – it’s dangerous. It leads to policies, leadership decisions, and public conversations that fail to acknowledge the full scope of reality. It’s time to examine why nuance has fallen out of favor and how we can restore it before losing our ability to think and communicate critically altogether.

How Media and Politics Reward Oversimplification

One of the biggest drivers of binary thinking is the modern media landscape. The 24-hour news cycle and social media algorithms can prioritize engagement over accuracy, meaning the most extreme, emotionally charged language gets the most attention.

Consider the recent coverage of the White House’s decision to suspend all federal grants and loan disbursements. While some outlets reported the White House’s justification – that the move was necessary to prevent public funding of “wokeness” and programs it deemed wasteful – others highlighted concerns from critics who labeled it an unconstitutional overreach that would undermine essential programs. The framing of the issue quickly devolved into a polarized debate – either a bold crackdown or a reckless assault on public funding—rather than an analysis of the policy’s mechanics, trade-offs, or potential compromises. Few discussions examined the long-term implications or the specific programs affected, reducing the conversation to partisan conflict instead of policy substance.

Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky's research on cognitive biases helps explain another factor contributing to this mindset. People naturally prefer certainty over ambiguity. Instead, they want to avoid wrestling with complexity and seek quick, straightforward answers. Media outlets and politicians exploit this tendency by simplifying issues into a good versus evil narrative, where one side is entirely right, and the other is completely wrong.

Musk’s NIH Overhaul: A Case Study in Oversimplification

An example of the dangers of eliminating nuance in decision-making is Elon Musk’s attempt to restructure the National Institutes of Health (NIH). Musk, known for his aggressive and combative leadership style, took a “wood chipper” to the indirect research costs paid to grant recipients.

Instead of carefully studying potential reform measures, he slashed funding, jeopardizing ongoing and future studies and the employment of scientists, medical researchers, and support staff across the country. His goal was to make the NIH more efficient. However, his approach ignored the social contract between the government and universities and the complexity of biomedical research, which often requires long-term investment rather than immediate results.

The result? Chaos.

Many critical NIH programs were abruptly halted, scientists scrambled for new funding, and even private-sector partners expressed concern about the long-term impact on medical innovation. What Musk framed as a bold, decisive move was an oversimplified gutting of an institution whose work does not fit neatly into a profit-driven model. (See my article, Running Government Like a Business? Think Again.)

This is the kind of false clarity that dominates leadership today. Instead of making thoughtful, informed adjustments, leaders increasingly favor sweeping, disruptive action – a “move fast and break things” approach that disregards complexity.

The Death of Complexity in Public Policy

This problem is not unique to Musk. Across government and business, leaders are rejecting incremental progress in favor of dramatic, attention-grabbing moves.

Consider Donald Trump’s recent tariffs on Mexico, Canada, and China. These tariffs were presented as a decisive strategy to pressure foreign governments on immigration, illegal drugs, and trade issues. However, the reality was far more complex – retaliatory tariffs from Canada and Mexico, disruptions to supply chains, and an absence of clear benchmarks for success. Instead of tackling the root causes of economic and immigration challenges, the tariffs acted as a symbolic, high-impact maneuver with uncertain long-term effects. This type of performative, surface-level decision-making creates the illusion of action while failing to address the underlying issues.

How to Elevate the Conversation

If I weren’t such an optimist, I’d say we’re too far gone – too many people are invested in and profiting from the current state, where crude, simplistic messages persuade individuals to act against their self-interest and undermine democracy. We must find ways to elevate how we communicate and interact to restore civility and evidence-based decision-making. This will require a declaration of the need for change and a commitment from various stakeholders to a range of efforts over an extended period. Here are a few key steps communicators, policymakers, and business leaders can take:

Encourage Complexity in Public Discussions. Rather than presenting false binaries, leaders and the communicators who advise them should emphasize educating the public about trade-offs and long-term consequences.
Prioritize Incremental Change Over Blunt Action. Policy and decision-makers should recognize that big problems require thoughtful, long-term solutions.
Acknowledge That Emotional Appeals Can Oversimplify Issues. Emotions are a powerful tool in communication, but they can be even more effective when combined with rational analysis. Journalists and communicators must counter the clickbait, outrage-driven news model.
Teach Critical Thinking and Media Literacy. The public needs better tools to recognize when issues are being flattened into false binaries. This process should begin early by teaching students how to evaluate sources, recognize biases, and engage with complexity.

Nuance is fading because it’s tougher to sell, more challenging to explain, and harder to act upon. Additionally, it requires time. In a world where leaders seek quick results, the media wants engagement, and the public craves certainty, complexity has become an inconvenience. However, the cost of ignoring nuance is massive. If we want better leadership, policies, and public discourse, we must resist the urge for quick, flashy, or frenzied explanations and responses. We must embrace complexity, acknowledge trade-offs, and have the patience to address issues with the depth they deserve.

Running Government Like a Business? Think Again.

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Wed, 19 Feb 2025 16:51:00 +0000

Hearing corporate leaders say, “The government should operate like a business," isn’t new, but the slogan has gained new significance with Elon Musk and Donald Trump promoting aggressive reforms. Now, Silicon Valley’s "move fast and break things" mentality has taken hold. While these statements may resonate with those frustrated by bureaucratic inefficiencies, enacting such approaches can lead to significant challenges and serious unintended consequences.

The Pitfalls of "Move Fast and Break Things"

Using the blunt instrument of mass terminations and freezing previously approved funding suggests that rapidly dismantling existing structures and addressing issues as they arise is an effective strategy. We’re being told that embracing a "fail fast" mentality – where rapid iteration and acceptance of failure contribute to innovation – is the solution to fixing a bloated government. However, this approach can lead to chaos and instability, particularly within complex systems like government. Interruptions in government services and commitments can cause widespread and severe hardships, affecting millions of lives and national stability.

Musk, appointed (not vetted or confirmed) to lead the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), has launched swift and widespread cuts to the federal workforce. (Fearing a legal battle over challenges to Musk’s authority, on Feb. 18, White House official Joshua Fisher stated, “Mr. Musk is not the U.S. DOGE Service Administrator.”) In a recent press conference, Musk described federal employees as an "unelected" branch of government and defended DOGE's secretive operations. These actions have led to the termination of nearly 85,000 government workers – about 3% of America's 2.3 million civil servants – crippling essential services like veterans affairs, nuclear security, and tax administration. Critics argue that these cuts vilify dedicated civil servants and undermine the government’s ability to fund essential services, support public health, and fund vital research.

The aggressive downsizing has elevated national security risks. Musk’s influence now extends to critical government IT infrastructures managed by a wide range of government departments, raising concerns about the integrity and security of federal systems. Despite court orders and numerous warnings about insider threats posed by Musk’s appointees, enforcement remains uncertain, leaving essential government functions vulnerable.

Why the Government Shouldn't Run Like a Business

The idea that the government should function like a business is a common refrain among some business leaders. However, this viewpoint overlooks essential differences between public governance and private enterprise.

In his book Time to Get Tough, Donald Trump asserts that business experience can translate into governmental success, suggesting that corporate strategies can effectively address governmental challenges.

However, governments are designed to serve the public interest. They address issues that are not always profitable but are essential for societal well-being, such as public safety, education, and infrastructure. Applying business principles focused on profit and efficiency can undermine these essential services.

Furthermore, businesses operate under different accountability structures. While a company answers to its shareholders, a government is accountable to its citizens, requiring transparency, equity, and adherence to democratic processes. DOGE's sweeping budget cuts and agency closures have already sparked legal battles, with opponents arguing that such actions bypass congressional oversight and erode democratic checks and balances.

The Founding Fathers warned against rash governmental overhauls. James Madison, in The Federalist Papers, cautioned: "The instability, injustice, and confusion introduced into the public councils have, in truth, been the mortal diseases under which popular governments have everywhere perished." Madison argued that a well-functioning government requires careful deliberation rather than reckless disruption.

When one of his rockets blows up, Musk refers to it as a “rapid unscheduled disassembly.” We’re witnessing the government being blown apart and disassembled right now, right before our eyes, to the dismay of millions of Americans and to the delight of our adversaries.

Reframing the Message in the Fight for Research Funding

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Thu, 13 Feb 2025 16:38:00 +0000

In the push to increase “government efficiency,” many of our elected—and unelected—leaders are equating cuts with savings. In the case of research, they could not be more mistaken, and it will cost us dearly.

The United States has long been a global leader in biomedical and technological innovation, a position driven by significant federal investments in research and development. However, under the new Administration, the National Institutes of Health (NIH) recently announced a policy that caps indirect cost rates at 15% for all grants. If the court challenges fail, the new rule will replace previously negotiated rates, which often ranged from 25% to over 50%, with some institutions, such as Harvard University, having rates as high as 69%.

Indirect costs, essential for maintaining research infrastructure, staffing, and resources, are not simply bureaucratic expenses; they form the backbone of America’s innovation ecosystem. Dr. Richard Huganir, the director of the Department of Neuroscience at Johns Hopkins University, characterized the cuts as "the apocalypse of American science," warning that they could lead to job losses and hinder future scientific discoveries. If we permit the gutting of the NIH and other scientific agencies, we risk falling behind in the global innovation race.

America’s leadership in science and medicine has never been an accident; it’s the result of decades of investment in research and innovation. Cutting funding under the pretext of fiscal responsibility is not only shortsighted but also economically and strategically self-destructive.

A Quick Look at a Few Facts

There are piles of data about the positive impact of basic and translational research. They include:

Science Drives Economic Growth and Job Creation. The Human Genome Project, for example, had a $141 return for every $1 invested, contributing nearly $1 trillion to the economy and laying the foundation for modern genomics-based medicine.

National Security Depends on Scientific Leadership. Research in biotechnology, cybersecurity, and quantum computing is critical to maintaining military and economic dominance. The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) funded the early development of the internet, GPS, and artificial intelligence—technologies that now underpin both commercial and defense industries.

China Is Significantly Increasing its R&D Expenditure. It is on pace to surpass the U.S. in R&D spending, with China’s global share rising by 22% and the U.S. share declining by 8% from 2000 to 2023.

Cutting Research Costs More in the Long Run. One of the most misguided assumptions about cutting science funding is that it will reduce government spending. In reality, preventative research saves billions in healthcare and emergency response costs. CDC data show vaccination programs save $10 for every $1 invested by preventing costly hospitalizations and lost productivity.

Science Funding Benefits Every State and District. Science funding isn’t a partisan issue—it benefits communities across the country. NIH and NSF grants support universities, hospitals, and biotech firms in both urban and rural districts, creating high-paying jobs and fostering innovation hubs.

Science funding used to enjoy broad bipartisan support. Even prominent conservative voices have recognized the value of research funding. Former Speaker of the House Newt Gingrich once called cutting medical research “irrational conservatism,” emphasizing that funding the NIH is one of the best ways to reduce long-term healthcare costs and improve national well-being.

Reframing the Debate

What should be determined by hard facts is now challenged by personal beliefs. Hyper-partisanship has widened divisions and built barriers to the point where facts matter less and opinions matter more. Maybe it’s time for a new approach.

Cognitive linguist George Lakoff emphasizes the power of framing in shaping public perception. He argues that how issues are presented dramatically influences how they are understood and acted upon. So, here’s a thought:

Instead of discussing science funding as government "spending," we should frame it as an investment in America's future—one that brings substantial economic, security, and health benefits. We could begin with messaging around:

Public-Private Partnerships: Numerous biotech startups and Fortune 500 companies depend on federally funded research to catalyze innovation and create value.

Fiscal Responsibility: Preventative research saves taxpayer dollars by reducing emergency healthcare costs and economic losses from preventable diseases.

Global Competitiveness: Investing in research ensures the U.S. remains a leader in medical and technological advancements rather than ceding ground to China or other competitors.

Moving from Messaging to Mobilizing

With federal research funding at risk, advocacy must move beyond words to action. Scientists, healthcare professionals, business leaders, and the public all have a role to play in ensuring continued investment in innovation, economic growth, and public health. Here are a few ways you can get involved:

1. Engage with Policymakers: Lawmakers respond to constituent concerns, so make your voice heard. Contact your representatives—especially those on the House and Senate Appropriations Committees—to emphasize the economic, national security, and health benefits of research funding.

Find your House representative: house.gov
Find your Senators: senate.gov
See who serves on the House Appropriations Committee
See who serves on the Senate Appropriations Committee

2. Participate in Science Advocacy Groups: Organizations dedicated to research advocacy offer resources, coordinated campaigns, and direct lobbying opportunities.

American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS)
Research!America
Coalition for Life Sciences (CLS)

3. Share Your Stories: Public awareness can influence policymaker decisions. If you have stories to share, use social media, blogs, or community forums to highlight how research funding impacts patients, businesses, and scientific progress. Add hashtags like #FundScience, #ResearchMatters, and #InvestInInnovation to amplify your message.

4. Attend Town Halls and Public Meetings: Legislators frequently hold town halls—either in person or online—to engage with constituents. Participating in these events and posing relevant questions about research funding can encourage them to prioritize science in budget conversations. Check the dates and times through the offices of your elected officials.

Leaders and policymakers who genuinely care about America’s health, global competitiveness, national security, and long-term economic stability should regard science funding not as a cost, but as one of the most powerful investments we can make for our future.

False Equivalencies: The Danger of Treating All Information Equally

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Tue, 10 Dec 2024 15:45:00 +0000

False equivalencies—presenting two sides of an argument as if they hold equal merit, even when one side is not grounded in facts—erode public discourse and trust. Whether in discussions about climate change, vaccine safety, or political violence, this action has damaging consequences for how the public engages with science, policy, and reality.

They’ve always been a pet peeve, but I was especially irritated when I read Malcolm Gladwell's interview with The New York Times about his new book, Revenge of the Tipping Point. At first, I was delighted when he said, “I don’t have any great hesitation about saying I was wrong. If you’re reading a book that is 25 years old, stuff should be wrong. If you don’t recognize that the world has changed in 25 years, there’s something wrong with you.”

I couldn’t agree more. The world constantly shifts, and we must adapt our thinking to new evidence and circumstances. Gladwell’s humility in admitting his mistakes is refreshing, particularly in today’s polarized climate, where admitting fault is often seen as a weakness.

It’s what he said later that troubled me: “People increasingly want uncurated expertise. Now does that sometimes create problems? Yeah, a lot of people didn’t take the Covid vaccine that should have and died as a result. That’s really unfortunate. I am fully aware of what happens when you let a thousand flowers bloom. But I’m also aware that there is at times something beautiful about the fact that we are opening up access to people in a way we never did before.”

Unfortunate? It was tragic. It was political and medical malpractice. Millions died.

Yes, access to ideas is crucial, but without proper vetting or curation, it becomes dangerously easy for disinformation and propaganda to spread unchecked. The challenge is to balance the need for open dialogue with the responsibility to prevent the amplification of dangerous or unfounded claims.

The Politicization of Science

One of the most disheartening trends I’ve observed over the past few years is the politicization of science to the point of toxicity. A discipline rooted in creativity, curiosity, and fact-finding has become demonized; science is openly ridiculed, trivialized, and held in contempt. If not checked and reversed, this will have a growing impact on discovery, education, public health, and US competitiveness.

The idea of “trusting the science” is under attack. Public confidence in science—particularly biomedical science—has declined significantly since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. A 2023 Pew Research Center survey revealed that only 27% of Republicans/lean Republican and 43% of Democrats/lean Democrat citizens have a great deal of confidence that medical scientists will act in the public’s best interest. This erosion of trust is partly due to the failure to communicate the evolving nature of scientific knowledge.

Science, by its nature, is fallible and self-correcting. It evolves as new evidence emerges. This is its greatest strength, but to the public, it can often seem like inconsistency or unreliability. This was evident during the pandemic when evolving guidance on social distancing, mask-wearing, and vaccines was often met with confusion and skepticism.

Dr. Francis Collins, former director of the National Institutes of Health, has expressed regret that officials didn’t adequately convey that recommendations would evolve as new information emerged during the pandemic. This failure to communicate the provisional nature of scientific knowledge only deepened public distrust. For many, the changing advice felt like dishonesty rather than the natural course of scientific discovery. This misunderstanding about the nature of science created a breeding ground for conspiracy theories and misinformation.

And it will not get better. Not in the next four years, anyway. The public should be angry, even terrified, that objective science will be scrapped if Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. and the like-minded are confirmed by the US Senate and assume roles of enormous national and global consequence.

Social media platforms have given, should I say, a booster shot to the amplification of numerous scientific falsehoods. Elon Musk’s behavior on his X (formerly Twitter) is particularly troubling. According to a recent New York Times analysis, nearly a third of Musk’s posts in a five-day period were found to be false or misleading. X enables conspiracy theories and misinformation to spread unchecked. While Musk claims to support free speech, the reality is that false information spreads faster and reaches more people than the truth. Even when others attempt to correct the record, a debunked conspiracy post sits alongside a credible one, and for many people, it all looks the same.

Reclaiming the Narrative

The public’s trust in science shouldn’t rest on believing in specific experts or static truths; rather, it should be grounded in understanding the scientific process itself. As Dr. Art Caplan, the head of Medical Ethics at NYU Langone Medical Center, explained, trust in science requires belief not only in the message but in the process that generates it. Caplan argued that scientists need to better explain their work with accessible language, relevant examples, and local engagement through schools, community organizations, and grassroots efforts. This is key to rebuilding public confidence.

I used to believe that presenting solid evidence would be enough to convince people of the facts. But I’ve come to understand that facts alone are not enough when false equivalencies dominate the conversation. The truth is that not all opinions deserve the same weight.

At the same time, we must hold those with power and influence accountable. Whether it’s Elon Musk spreading false information or Malcolm Gladwell embracing uncurated content, the truth matters. If we cannot differentiate between what is factual and what is false, we are in serious trouble.

So yes, I agree with Gladwell that more voices should be heard, but I cannot follow him down the path of always accepting unfiltered content as part of the solution. If anything, we need to take more care and responsibility in communicating the facts. Because right now, the stakes are too high to get this wrong.

The Failure of Joy: The 2024 Election and the Power of Fear

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Tue, 12 Nov 2024 14:04:00 +0000

Democrats should spend less time blaming each other for their loss and more time on why Republicans won.

In the wake of the 2024 election, political analysts, journalists, voters, and interested observers worldwide are grappling with how Vice President Kamala Harris and the Democratic Party lost despite running a campaign imbued with joy and optimism. As The New York Times reported, “The nationwide repudiation of the party stunned many Democrats who had expressed a ‘nauseous’ confidence about their chances in the race's final weeks. As they sifted through the wreckage of their defeats, they found no easy answers as to why voters so decisively rejected their candidates.”

Not true. The circular firing squad assembled quickly, and the headlines screamed their verdict: “This Is All Biden’s Fault,” “Dems rage against Biden’s ‘arrogance’ after Harris loss,” and “Democratic strategist says her party has lost ‘common sense’ and the ability to speak to ‘normal people’.”

Sure, there are plenty of ways to blame the Democrats for their massive defeat. The party needs to learn a few crucial lessons. But people must remember how Rupert Murdoch/Fox, Elon Musk/X, and others amplified the flood of lies and distortions, which found no counterweight in the mainstream or legacy media. The muddle contributed to tens of millions of people choosing not to vote, abdicating their privilege and responsibility.

And there’s one more critical factor: Joy alone cannot stand against the power of fear, which Republicans wielded effectively to secure victory.

The Limits of Optimism

Harris and her running mate, Governor Tim Walz, chose “joy” to set their campaign's tone and emphasized hope, unity, and progress. The Vice President highlighted a woman’s right to choose, economic growth under Democratic leadership, and floated new incentives for home ownership and business development. Walz’s persona—the Coach—complemented this strategy, projecting confidence and unwavering belief in a brighter future.

In a New York Times opinion piece written during the campaign, Charles M. Blow noted, “‘Joy’ Is Working for Harris, but Can It Close the Deal?’” We know the answer. Another NYT piece pointed out that this hopeful approach often fell on deaf ears among undecided and swing voters. One voter said, “I’m not looking for a leader who just tells me everything will be okay. I need to know they understand what I’m worried about.” Another added, “Optimism is nice, but it doesn’t pay the bills or make me feel safer.”

I am a believer, a supporter of joy, and an optimist. However, for months, I have said that the Harris strategy needed to change. The campaign spent significant time talking about unifying the country and the many misdeeds of the 45th President when they should have focused on issues that matter most to middle-class, middle America and efforts to get out the vote.

In our hyperpolarized world, too few will accept facts, listen to arguments, or ask probing questions. And history shows that two other “happy warriors” failed to win the presidency: Al Smith (1928, losing to Herbert Hoover) and Hubert Humphrey (1968, losing to Richard Nixon).

The Politics of Fear

History and legend show that fear motivates more effectively than joy or optimism. In the book “Camelot, Inc.,” I discuss how those plotting against King Arthur recognized that emotion—particularly anger—is the most potent unifier. It was understood that to gain traction, people needed an emotional rallying point: “It has to be something broad and popular, which everybody could feel…so that everybody can be angry” (T.H. White, The Once and Future King). Modern-day Republican strategists have mastered this lesson, using the emotional glue of fear to build their base.

Consider how policy debates are framed not as opportunities for growth but as existential threats. During the Obama era’s debates over the Affordable Care Act, opponents shifted the conversation from increasing access to healthcare to an infringement on personal liberty – “taking away” Americans’ choice. Similarly, efforts to regulate firearms meet fierce rhetoric about assaults on constitutional rights, evoking a protective response that overrides fact-based discussions.

The 2024 election highlighted this dynamic. While Democrats emphasized what they could add to the richness of Americans’ lives—greater equality, better access to services, social progress—Republicans positioned their platform as a defense against perceived losses: the erosion of freedoms, security, and identity.

While the abortion issue resonated with many voters, it did not offset the Republican platform of fear. The Republican campaign amplified worries of economic instability, rising crime rates, and the erosion of traditional values, painting a picture of an America under siege. Their messaging resonated powerfully with the public, who sought certainty and protection. Slogans like “Take Our Country Back” and “Never Surrender” reinforced the narrative that the nation needed saving from immediate threats.

The Role of the Media: Sanewashing and Shaping Perception

The news media significantly influenced the 2024 election. While Democrats struggled to energize voters with optimistic messages, mainstream media often sanitized or “sanewashed” Donald Trump and the Republican agenda. The coverage overlooked inflammatory or incoherent statements and emphasized a more favorable narrative.

This approach significantly affected public perception. While Democrats focused on facts and future-oriented policies, media coverage that downplayed the divisive aspects of GOP rhetoric allowed fear-based messaging to become normalized. This created a political environment where emotional, fear-driven narratives easily overshadowed messages of hope and unity.

On a critical policy issue, a New York Times headline announced that “Public Health Could Be Recast in Second Trump Term.” Recast? Slashing CDC funding, breaking up the NIH, and ending vaccine mandates would demolish public health. Undermining institutions, politicizing science, demonizing scientists, and shattering trust in vaccines will lead to a less informed, less healthy America.

The Need for a New Democratic Strategy

The Harris-Walz campaign fell into a common trap: assuming facts alone would inform and influence perceptions. Facts are crucial, but we see repeatedly that public perception, driven by emotion, often holds more sway. Climate change is real, vaccines don’t cause autism, and fluoride strengthens teeth and helps prevent cavities – widely known facts, yet millions choose to ignore them and sometimes fight against them.

If Democrats want to regain electoral ground, they must face an uncomfortable truth: joy alone is not enough. The GOP’s approach consistently demonstrates that fear, anger, and protectionist themes more effectively energize voters. Democrats should not abandon their values; instead, they should integrate emotional narratives into their strategies. To break the cycle of electoral disappointment, they must combine their vision of hope with the raw power of perceived threats.

Noble ideals must be matched with an emotional strategy that galvanizes as effectively as it inspires. Only then can Democrats hope to break the cycle and harness the energy needed for sustained political momentum.

Presidential Humor: 2024 Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Wed, 21 Aug 2024 17:38:00 +0000

Next to power without honor, the most dangerous thing in the world is power without humor. – Eric Sevareid

The only thing I found humorous about a recent NYT opinion piece called Trump Is Losing the Humor War was the title. OK, it’s more ironic than funny because the whole thing implied that Trump was winning the humor war at some point.

The author, Professor Leif Weatherby at NYU, wrote, “Over the past decade, there’s one truth that liberals have been loath to admit: Donald Trump is funny. …when you watch him at a rally, you can see he’s playing for laughs: jabbing at his opponents[…].”

Here’s the problem: playing for laughs does not always equate to being funny. Being funny is to amuse, to be comical. Hurling insults, making sarcastic comments, or mocking others are not humorous. They’re, well, insulting, sarcastic, and mocking; all of it is at the expense of others. Trump might be “playing for laughs,” but it is not through humor.

Also problematic is the professor’s critique of the other side of the political spectrum. “The Democrats have been many things over the last few decades, but funny has rarely been one of them,” he said.

That right there is funny. In my 2011 book Camelot, Inc., I remarked that Democrats had humor pretty well sewn up. Look at the vast majority of stand-up comics and the long-standing successes of figures like John Stewart and Stephen Colbert. Republicans, on the other hand, are masters of fear and anger.

I agree with Professor Weatherby’s statement that “There’s something interesting about humor: We don’t get to choose what’s funny.” In a 2016 article, I wrote, “Be careful with humor in serious times. What’s funny to you may not be funny to someone else. It comes down to knowing your audience and having some compassion.” Compassion, like humor, is not one of 45’s strong suits.

Dr. Weatherby spoke about acknowledging the “truth.” But the truth is subjective. My truth about what’s funny, artistic, or cool will be the same for some and different for others. Facts and data, however, are not. Trump advisor Kellyanne Conway blew many minds when she said White House press secretary Sean Spicer “gave alternative facts” about the inauguration crowd size during a 2017 interview on Meet the Press. Host Chuck Todd responded, “Alternative facts are not facts; they’re falsehoods.”

Will jokes or the manifestations of humor – Harris’ belly laugh or Trump’s happy dance – change any votes? Probably few, if any. Humor is a component of who we are; it’s one pixel in a complex picture. But there’s no doubt it’s essential. Michael J. Fox said, “I think the scariest person in the world is the person with no sense of humor,” and Robert Frost noted, “If we couldn’t laugh, we would all go insane.”

The Power of Not Knowing

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Thu, 11 Jul 2024 18:42:00 +0000

The importance of asking questions and being curious cannot be overstated. A Harvard Business Review article by Allison Wood Brooks and Leslie K. John said asking questions “spurs learning and the exchange of ideas, fuels innovation and performance improvement, and builds rapport and trust among team members. And it can mitigate business risk by uncovering unforeseen pitfalls and hazards.”

When we know, we should want to know more. But what about when the well is dry? What do we do when there’s no foundation to formulate a plan or express an opinion? In my experience, a lot of people will make it up. They’re too embarrassed or their ego is too big to say, “I don’t know.” Too many people are conditioned to show no weaknesses or, worse, they’re plain ol’ bullshitters. Unfortunately, the B.S. artists frequently get away with their shams because others are too embarrassed (or too fearful or too much of a sycophant) to challenge them.

I like to surround myself with people who are comfortable – contented, really – about saying they don’t know, they don’t have an answer. They have a genuine interest in gathering facts and ideas.

I was reminded how important this was by my friend David. It wasn’t, “Hey, Paul, you should think about writing an article about the importance of having a curious mind.” The inspiration came from a long conversation about family, people we like (or don’t), food, books, music, movies, and politics. We got to a certain spot in the discussion, and he said, “I don’t know enough to have an opinion about that. What do you know?”

I still feel refreshed when I think of that. His openness and honesty were, well, an inspiration. He’s a very smart guy, and smart people – confident and curious people – ask questions, dig around for facts and data, and seek out knowledgeable individuals for their perspectives.

Einstein didn’t come up that day, but it hit me later that he said, “The important thing is not to stop questioning… Never lose a holy curiosity.”

A questioning, fact-finding mindset goes beyond friendships, of course. It should be a societal imperative. It’s a mentality that can lift everyone up. And it’s an essential element in mentoring. Good mentors know this, even in legend. When the future King Arthur asked, “Would you mind if I asked you a question?” Merlin (the wizard who was also his teacher and advisor) answered, “It is what I am for.”

We should all be for it.

The Abnormality of the New Normal

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Oestreicher) — Wed, 19 Jun 2024 16:29:00 +0000

Over the past couple of decades, we've experienced events that created a so-called “new normal”: 9/11, the Great Recession, and COVID-19 are examples. While I understood the use of the term, I never liked it; it rubbed me the wrong way somehow. But after thinking about what the new normal represents to me, the repulsion became clear. It’s the alarming rise in the normalization of intolerance and cruelty across our society. Political violence deemed "patriotic," exploitative workplace environments, plummeting civility, and justifications for the use of deadly force are disturbing shifts in our collective values and ethics.

The Cultural Shift Towards Intolerance

The rise of hyper-individualism, prioritizing personal success and self-interest over collective well-being, plays a significant role in the growth of intolerance and cruelty. Media portrayal of aggression and power as virtues (or even goals) further normalizes these behaviors. Reality TV shows, for example, often glorify ruthless competition and backstabbing. The pervasive influence of social media amplifies these trends. Platforms that thrive on sensationalism and outrage can desensitize users to violence and spite. The echo chambers created by algorithms often reinforce extreme views, making empathy and compassion seem like weaknesses rather than strengths.

Political Violence Is Not Patriotic

The attack on the US Capitol on January 6, 2021, starkly illustrates how influencers can rebrand acts of violence as expressions of patriotism. For many, these acts of sedition and insurrection were profound assaults on the democratic process. However, a significant chunk of the population views it as a patriotic act, a defense against perceived governmental overreach and a “rigged” election. As Donald Trump fired up the crowd at the Ellipse in Washington DC, he said, "We fight like hell, and if you don't fight like hell, you're not going to have a country anymore." At a different event, he said, "We will root out the communists, Marxists, fascists, and the radical left thugs that live like vermin within the confines of our country, that lie and steal and cheat on elections."

This dichotomy reflects a broader societal trend that increasingly views violence and lawlessness as acceptable methods of political expression. The repercussions of this mentality are profound, undermining the rule of law and setting a dangerous precedent for future civil unrest.

Success Does Not Require Ruthlessness

In the corporate world, the relentless pursuit of success can come at the expense of employee well-being. Some CEOs and business leaders justify overworking their employees as essential to achieving corporate goals. For example, Elon Musk, CEO of Tesla, X (Twitter), and SpaceX, is known for promoting punishing workplace environments. In an email to Twitter staff, he said they “will need to be extremely hardcore" to succeed. "This will mean working long hours at high intensity. Only exceptional performance will constitute a passing grade." A Tesla employee said, “Many of us worked tirelessly for him for years and were tossed to the curb like a piece of litter without a second thought.”

The culture of overwork pervades many industries, masking employee exploitation as dedication and commitment. The glorification of such practices overlooks the severe mental and physical toll on workers, contributing to burnout, stress, and a deteriorating work-life balance. The noted organizational psychologist Adam Grant said, "Screaming at employees doesn't make you a tough boss. It makes you an asshole. Great leaders are demanding, not demeaning. They set high expectations and create accountability without abuse. Yelling is unprofessional. Treating people with dignity is not optional – it's required."

While some can keep pushing boundaries, there are limits. It appears that some potential Tesla buyers are snubbing the brand because of Musk’s reputation and penchant for promoting extreme political views.

We Need Just Plain Normal

Addressing these disturbing trends requires a fundamental shift in valuing and practicing empathy, compassion, and justice. Education systems should emphasize emotional intelligence and conflict resolution skills from an early age. Corporations should care more about employee well-being, recognizing that healthy, motivated workers are the foundation of sustainable success. Political leaders and influencers need to advocate for non-violent methods of protest and change, upholding the principles of democracy and the rule of law.

The news media must concentrate more on facts and less on opinions. The public needs to recognize false equivalencies and news organizations must abandon them – no more giving equal time to, say, climate deniers when 97% of climate scientists agree that the use of fossil fuels is warming the earth. Let's do more to highlight the virtues of kindness, cooperation, and ethical behavior. Let's celebrate stories of resilience, community support, and altruism.

Our society's growing coarseness and cruelty demand urgent attention. Whether in parenting, politics, corporate environments, or self-defense laws, normalizing harsh and aggressive behaviors reflects a more profound erosion of empathy and moral values. Mahatma Gandhi said, "The greatness of a nation can be judged by how it treats its weakest member." We can stop trying to win points by staging events meant to embarrass others or spitting out carefully word-smithed insults. I'm sick of the attention-seeking behavior of elected leaders. Let's foster a society that values compassion, justice, and mutual respect over spite and exploitation.

Normal is kind, not cruel. It's inclusive, not exclusive. It's positive, not punitive.