Why I Refuse to Get Caught Up in the Trump Fiasco

 No, I do not like Donald J. Trump. Yes, I think he is poisonous to our politics and our culture and our society. 

However, I have found it better to keep my MSNBC watching to a minimum - there is just too much about the former President's indictment. Fox News is just as noisy from the other end. He was indicted, the judicial system is now in gear. No matter how much attention is given, questions asked, means anything other than that: he was indicted, he pled not guilty, the process is underway. Life goes on.

Trump's lawyers might get the felonies dismissed. There may be a trial, and then a jury will make its decision. This happens to millions of people in this country in a year. I am not related to Trump, and he owes me no money, and I do not see how the attention given to this proceeding improves my life, or the life of anyone else.

The Republic shall persist so long as we do not lose faith in the law. Frankly, I see this case as doing just that. There was no uprising, no attempt at rescuing Trump that Manhattan courtroom. 

Liberal Patriot's A Handbook for Public Life made me think I should write this post. I suggest it all be read, but I will give you a few paragraphs as inducement:

If there’s any one piece of wisdom Epictetus hoped to impart to his students, it’s the absolute necessity of what he called self-possession: the proposition that we really ought to keep ourselves calm and remain in control of ourselves even in the worst situations. It’s a deceptively straightforward idea, uncomplicated on the surface but containing a multitude of intricate facets when examined closely—and one that, as Epictetus himself repeatedly acknowledged, is as difficult to put into practice as it is easy to describe.

For Epictetus, self-possession means first and foremost relying on our faculty of reason—what he and the other ancient Stoics called our dominant faculty—and to stay level-headed when confronted with the volatile and often frustrating nature of public life. We may be passionate about a particular issue, candidate, or set of principles, for instance, but we can’t let ourselves be governed by our passions. Here, it’s important to note that the Stoics and other ancient schools of philosophy defined “passions” very differently than we do today; for the ancient Stoics, at least, the passions weren’t mere enthusiasms for a favorite sports team or musician but the destructive, negative emotions that take hold of us and cloud our judgement when our desires aren’t fulfilled. As Epictetus himself put it in the Discourses, “the root cause of passion is wanting something and not getting it.”

It’s not hard to see that definition at play today in the despair that flourishes today on both left and right when a particular candidate doesn’t win a race or a specific policy fails to make its way through Congress. What happens in these circumstances goes beyond the simple, natural disappointment inherent in a lost election or legislative vote—it’s the sense that all is lost, an anguish fueled by fear, anxiety and anger. But as Epictetus and his fellow Stoics would remind us, we do neither ourselves nor the causes we believe in any good when we allow these passions to impair our thinking and make us miserable.

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Taken together, these two notions also help us keep in mind the possibility that we might be wrong—and that our interlocutors and opponents might simply be mistaken and incorrect rather than wicked and incorrigible. Of course, such inveterate characters do exist and must be opposed in appropriate ways. But if our political rivals are merely wrong, as they usually are, it does us no good to work ourselves up into a frenzy over their misguided rhetoric and dubious policy views. As Epictetus observes, another person “can only conform to his views, not yours” and, if they happen to be inaccurate, “he’s the one who’s harmed, because he’s also been deceived.” If we can’t convince our political opponents of our own views, he argues, we shouldn’t insult or get angry with our interlocutors but recognize our own limitations instead.

And I intend to do just that - keep my counsel, not demonize others.

sch 4/5