1. Stephen Turner says we’ve shifted from democracy to expertocracy. I’m like—great! I’m perfectly unqualified. I can’t even program my remote. But I’ve got feelings, damn it. And some of them are almost rational.
2. We live in a system where only “experts” get heard. Meanwhile, I’m livestreaming to 37 people from a garage in Pico-Robertson, begging for a Shabbos invite like it’s a green card.
3. Turner says civil society is dying and being replaced by “commissions.” I say, replace me with a commission. At least a commission can afford valet parking at Young Israel.
4. I want to be part of the elite too—but I didn’t go to Harvard, I don’t have a trust fund, and my most valuable credential is a restraining order from a Modern Orthodox heiress who thought my Kierkegaard jokes were “destabilizing.”
5. I don’t have credentials. I have vibes. And in the age of Democracy 3.0, vibes don’t count unless you’re a tenured epidemiologist with a podcast and a Substack.
6. Stephen Turner says politics is no longer about justice or values—it’s about who controls the spreadsheets. I failed Algebra II. I’m not built for this system. I need a regime where charisma and a working knowledge of Isaiah get you laid.
7. Experts have monopolized legitimacy. Meanwhile, I’m just trying to borrow legitimacy from people who once met Dennis Prager. It’s not going well.
8. In Turner’s world, expert knowledge replaces discussion. So where does that leave me? I can’t get girls, money, or a kugel invite—but I can give you a detailed analysis of how cultural capital flows through second-tier shuls.
9. You know you’re not in the elite when you read Liberal Democracy 3.0 and realize—you’re not even Democracy 2.1 beta. You’re running on Windows Me, spiritually speaking.
10. I tried to build my own hero system, like Becker says. I called it Lukeism: a lonely man’s search for kavod through livestreaming, Torah quotes, and accidental celibacy. Didn’t catch on.
