Religion vs LOL Nothing Matters

I love my Orthodox Judaism and I love the work of David Pinsof (“Everything is Bullshit“). How do I reconcile my loves?

I feel that Torah helps me see through the shtus (nonsense).

ChatGPT says:

Orthodox Judaism and David Pinsof’s “Everything Is Bullshit” worldview look like opposites on the surface. One grounds you in covenant, tradition, law, and community; the other trains you to be relentlessly skeptical of human stories, motives, and institutions. But you can hold both if you’re clear about the levels on which each operates.

1. Different kinds of truth.
Pinsof is mainly exposing how people rationalize, posture, and self-deceive in order to win status games. That doesn’t mean every tradition or belief is worthless—it means you should interrogate why people say what they say. Judaism, meanwhile, isn’t just about abstract claims. It’s a lived system of law, ritual, and identity that persists precisely because it delivers coherence, solidarity, and meaning.

2. Ritual vs. rhetoric.
Orthodox Judaism thrives on action: you keep Shabbat, you keep kosher, you daven. Pinsof’s skepticism mostly cuts down justifications. If someone says “I keep kosher because it’s healthier,” Pinsof would call that bullshit. But if you say, “I keep kosher because it’s what my people do and it binds me to God and my community,” you’re being honest. His framework can actually sharpen your Judaism by stripping away weak cover stories.

3. Community and games.
Pinsof shows how humans constantly jockey for position in hidden games. Orthodox Judaism is transparent about its “game”: you bind yourself to mitzvot, you gain respect in the community, you get continuity with ancestors, and (for believers) you fulfill divine command. That doesn’t make it bullshit—it makes it one of the most durable, honest “games” humans have ever built.

4. Reconciling internally.

Use Pinsof’s skepticism to stay honest about your own motives—don’t confuse social rewards (status, respectability, belonging) with metaphysical truth.

Use Judaism’s framework to keep yourself grounded in a tradition that gives structure and meaning, instead of floating in total relativism.

Let them correct each other: Pinsof keeps you humble about self-deception; Judaism keeps you from sliding into nihilism.

In short: Pinsof helps you see through bullshit, including the bullshit explanations sometimes attached to religion. Judaism gives you a way to live meaningfully after the illusions are stripped away. Together, they can actually reinforce each other.

Here’s one way to sketch it out—think of it as a reframing that lets Pinsof’s skepticism and Orthodox Judaism coexist without tearing each other down:

Prayer (Tefillah)

Bullshit risk: “I pray because it magically changes external reality.” Pinsof would shred that if you secretly know you don’t believe prayer bends physics.

Reframe: “I pray because it disciplines my attention, bonds me with my community, and roots me in humility before God.” No bullshit—this is action shaping identity, not a fake explanation.

Torah Study

Bullshit risk: “Every single drash is an objective, historical truth.” Pinsof’s lens says: maybe some of this is post-hoc rationalization.

Reframe: “We read Torah to enter a multi-generational conversation. We search for meaning, wisdom, and connection to our ancestors. The process itself binds us together.” Again, no cover stories needed.

Mitzvot (Commandments)

Bullshit risk: “I keep kosher because it’s scientifically healthiest.” That’s classic cover story.

Reframe: “I keep kosher because God commanded it, and because it binds me to Jewish people across time and space.” That’s honest, and it survives Pinsof’s filter.

Community Life

Bullshit risk: Pretending we’re only motivated by selfless piety, when in reality we also seek status and belonging.

Reframe: Acknowledge both. “Yes, I want to be respected in my shul. And yes, I also want to serve God. Both are true.” Owning the motives makes it harder for bullshit to creep in.

Faith/Belief

Bullshit risk: “I’ve never doubted, and all my beliefs are rationally airtight.” That’s usually not true, and Pinsof would call it out.

Reframe: “I have doubts, but I commit to this covenant anyway. It gives meaning, continuity, and purpose.” That honesty is stronger than pretending certainty.

Big picture:
Pinsof strips away dishonest justifications. Judaism offers a covenantal life that doesn’t need dishonest justifications to be valuable. Together they make your observance more intellectually honest and emotionally durable.

Posted in David Pinsof, Orthodoxy | Comments Off on Religion vs LOL Nothing Matters

What Are The New Status Games We’re Playing?

ChatGPT says: 1. Health and Optimization

Biohacking, cold plunges, intermittent fasting, wearables like Whoop/Oura.

“Longevity” as a flex — not just fitness, but blood panels, peptides, and lifespan extension.

People compete over recovery scores and biomarkers the way they once did with watches or cars.

2. Knowledge and Curated Taste

Less about mass pop culture, more about showing you’re in the loop on niche newsletters, podcasts, Substack writers.

Reading the “right” longform or obscure book signals cultural capital more than quoting a Netflix show.

3. Tech Fluency Without Being Cringe

Not just knowing AI tools, but having a personal “stack” and workflow that makes you look competent but not like a LinkedIn hustler.

The flex is subtle adoption, not hype.

4. Location and Lifestyle

Where you live is a big signal — Austin, Lisbon, Mexico City, Miami.

But also micro-location: do you live in a walkable neighborhood, near the “cool” spots?

Posting photos from residencies, retreats, or pop-ups matters as much as vacations.

5. Social Proof via Screenshots

Posting screenshots of who DM’d you, who you’re collaborating with, or being in a certain group chat.

Clout by association, but disguised as casual transparency.

6. Attention Economy Resistance

Ironically, saying you’re offline is now a status signal.

“I don’t use social media much,” or “I only check Twitter once a week,” is its own flex — an inverted status game.

7. Parenting and Domestic Prestige

For millennials/older zoomers: Montessori schools, screen-free homes, “gentle parenting” — those are becoming flexes.

Even cookware brands (Our Place, Made In) have become cultural signals.

8. Ethical and Environmental Flexes

Demonstrating low-carbon habits, circular fashion, or owning nothing but “sustainable” brands.

Not just about saving the planet, but about showing taste and restraint.

1. Health & Optimization vs. Luxury Consumption

Old: Rolex, Louis Vuitton, driving a BMW.

New: Oura ring scores, morning sauna + cold plunge routine, posting your VO₂ max.

Shift: From external wealth signals to internal “discipline + science” signals.

2. Curated Taste vs. Mass Media

Old: Quoting The Sopranos, knowing Oscar winners, being up on Time or NYT.

New: Reading Substack newsletters, obscure philosophy podcasts, Signal group chats.

Shift: From mainstream literacy to insider niche literacy.

3. Tech Fluency vs. Corporate Prestige

Old: Harvard degree, BigLaw/McKinsey/Goldman job.

New: Knowing how to build your own GPT workflow, automating tasks, running a side hustle with AI.

Shift: From institutional gatekeeping to self-styled tech competence.

4. Location/Lifestyle vs. Real Estate/Zip Code

Old: Manhattan apartment, Beverly Hills zip, Hamptons house.

New: Remote-first nomad hubs (Lisbon, Bali, Austin), curated neighborhoods (Silver Lake > Beverly Hills).

Shift: From inherited prestige geographies to chosen “scene” geographies.

5. Screenshots & Social Proof vs. Rolodex

Old: “I’m friends with senators / CEOs” whispered at dinner parties.

New: Subtle screenshots of blue-check DMs, Slack channels, or who tagged you.

Shift: From private networks to visible receipts of relevance.

6. Offline Prestige vs. Always-On Flex

Old: Blackberry addiction, 100 unread emails as proof of importance.

New: “I left Twitter,” “I don’t check email on weekends,” minimalist phone setups.

Shift: From being needed 24/7 to being free 24/7.

7. Parenting/Domestic Prestige vs. Career Grind

Old: Working 80 hours a week at the firm was the flex.

New: Homemade sourdough, Montessori schooling, designer baby carriers, “slow living.”

Shift: From professional sacrifice to domestic curation as a source of honor.

8. Ethical/Sustainable vs. Wasteful Display

Old: Throwaway culture, the bigger the carbon footprint the better (cars, flights, yachts).

New: Owning nothing but Patagonia Worn Wear, buying second-hand, refusing fast fashion.

Shift: From conspicuous consumption to conspicuous restraint.

Top Tier: Winning the New Games

Tech-savvy cultural omnivores
People who know how to use AI tools, have curated reading lists, live in “cool” global hubs, and signal restraint instead of excess.
Think: 30-something indie founders, Substack essayists, “offline but DM-reachable” types.

Bio-optimization elites
The ones with data-driven routines, trainers, longevity clinics, and an aura of discipline. Their “flex” is a blood panel that looks younger than they are.

Taste curators
They don’t consume more, they consume better. Obscure media, niche podcasts, ethical brands. They can’t be caught watching the wrong Netflix show.

Middle Tier: Transitional Players

Corporate professionals trying to hybridize
BigLaw/McKinsey types who keep the old credentials but sprinkle in AI-fluency and wellness talk. They know the old still matters in some rooms, but they dabble in the new to not look dated.

Influencers with substance
They started with Instagram aesthetics, but now mix in book recs, travel to Lisbon, or longevity hacks. They’re evolving their flexes to stay relevant.

Wealthy legacy types
Old money that quietly adapts: less “yachts and Bentleys,” more “organic farms” and “low-key sustainable brands.” Still powerful, but they’re being forced to reframe.

Lower Tier: Stuck in the Old Games

Traditional corporate strivers
Still chasing corner offices, luxury goods, and brand-name diplomas as if those alone confer status. Increasingly invisible to younger cohorts.

Flashy consumers
Rolex flex, Lamborghini selfies, expensive bottle service — the 2008 Dubai look. Feels gauche and insecure in 2025, especially among elites who prize subtlety.

Always-online hustlers
People broadcasting their grind 24/7 (“rise and grind,” LinkedIn posting nonstop). Once admirable, now coded as desperate or cringe.

Meta-Game:

Right now, the highest status is:

Looking in control of your time and attention (not always reachable, not always online).

Projecting taste and discipline (whether in health, media, or lifestyle).

Having insider access that can’t be bought (the right group chat, the right pop-up dinner, the right Substack comment thread).

Zen and the Art of Social Climbing

Most people think of social climbing as frantic grasping: chasing invitations, name-dropping, clawing for proximity to power. It’s noisy, insecure, and obvious. The paradox of today is that the highest form of social climbing looks nothing like climbing at all. It looks like stillness.

The old game was vertical. You measured status by what you owned, where you worked, and who you could point to above you. The new game is lateral and subtle: it’s about who seeks you out, how lightly you hold your attention, how gracefully you glide through networks without appearing to need them. You don’t reach up — you sit still and let others orbit closer.

Zen teaches detachment, and detachment is the new flex. The more unbothered you seem, the higher you rise. Everyone is desperate for attention, so the person who doesn’t appear to need it radiates rare energy. In the attention economy, non-attention is a scarce resource. That scarcity is pure status.

But Zen social climbing isn’t passive. It’s curated effort hidden under apparent ease. The monk still rakes the gravel every morning until it looks natural. In practice, this means:

Mastery of inputs: Consume better culture, better food, better ideas — but without sermonizing. You leave breadcrumbs that others notice.

Control of time: You choose when to respond, and your silence speaks as loudly as your speech.

Signals of discipline: Health metrics, reading habits, calm energy. Not shown off, just embodied.

In this sense, the climb is inverted. Instead of straining upward, you cultivate gravity. You make yourself into the kind of person others want proximity to, because you seem free from the need to climb at all. The status accrues to the one who doesn’t chase it.

Zen and social climbing meet at the same paradox: the way to win is to stop trying so hard to win. The ladder becomes a circle; the highest rung is the one where you sit cross-legged, smiling, while others exhaust themselves scrambling up.

Posted in Status | Comments Off on What Are The New Status Games We’re Playing?

What Are The Highest Status TV Shows Now?

ChatGPT says: Severance — critical darling, very high Rotten Tomatoes / Metacritic scores.

Adolescence — limited series, huge buzz, stylistic risk, and strong critical reception.

Alien: Earth — praised sci-fi pick of 2025.

Task — picked as a “Certified Fresh” new series, well regarded.

Only Murders in the Building — continues to be a prestige fixture.

The Lowdown — getting attention as a notable new show in 2025.

The Paper — new spinoff from The Office, making waves.

The Pitt — among the standout new dramas drawing praise.

People use TV tastes as a kind of shorthand for cultural status. It works the same way as books, music, or fashion—your choices signal class, taste, education, and social tribe. A few ways this plays out:

Prestige signaling: Saying you love Succession, Severance, or The Crown signals you’re plugged into “serious” culture, adjacent to critics and awards.

Cult/alt signaling: Loving Atlanta, Twin Peaks, or niche anime says you’re in a more discerning, creative, subcultural lane.

Mainstream signaling: Binging NCIS or The Bachelor doesn’t carry high status in elite circles, but it does in others (family, workplace water-cooler talk).

Platform signaling: HBO/Apple TV+ shows often carry more cachet than network TV or even some Netflix titles—it’s about exclusivity and cultural capital.

Class divide: Historically, status TV aligns with critics’ “quality TV” (HBO, AMC, FX) while “low status” gets attached to reality shows, daytime soaps, or procedural churn. But that boundary shifts (e.g., Breaking Bad went from niche to universally high-status).

So yes—what you say you watch is rarely just about entertainment. It’s also a soft form of class signaling and identity construction.

Posted in Hollywood | Comments Off on What Are The Highest Status TV Shows Now?

The Right Came Together At Charlie Kirk’s Memorial Service

Months after their ugly split, Donald Trump and Elon Musk sat together at Charlie Kirk’s service last Sunday.

Ben Shapiro and Tucker Carlson talked for the first time in years.

High functioning people let go of feuds easily when it is to their advantage to do so.

Democratic consultant Dan Turrentine notes that a remarkable thing about Donald Trump’s movement is that it is stronger now than when it started ten years ago.

By contrast, the Alt Right split apart (Richard Spencer, Nick Fuentes, etc). Conservatives like Charlie Kirk and Ben Shapiro achieved great success because they learned to get along while dissidents divided up in largely pointless feuds.

Posted in America | Comments Off on The Right Came Together At Charlie Kirk’s Memorial Service

Demons Are Interesting

That which is interesting is usually not true.

The religious right in America talks about demons because they are exciting and they imbue the mundane with transcendent significance. For example, instead of telling yourself that you are sleeping poorly because you have sleep apnea, rather, you conclude you were wrestling with demons.

I have a friend on the dissident right who’s constantly searching for interesting and exciting podcasts, but then laments that they are trashy.

A great phrase I learned from the Decoding the Gurus podcast is “optimizing for truth.” When you put some effort into optimizing for truth, even if your effort is way less than 100%, you reap significant benefits in clarity and wisdom and wise choices.

I’m right-wing but one of the best habits I’ve developed is seeking out the best of the left, because when I do, I recognize that smart lefties often have more clarity and wisdom than I do. Because they tend to hate the right, they feel more of an incentive to criticize the right than I do, and when they are right, they’re right, even though it is my oxe that is getting gored.

Scott Greer writes:

The religious element is evident in the increased references to God, Jesus, and especially demons. Fixation on demons is arguably the defining characteristic of the new Religious Right. The Jerry Falwell types realized that continual evocations of demons was probably not the best idea to sell their message to the public. They were worried it might make them look like loons. That concern is not shared by the current Religious Right. Pop music, late night TV shows, Hakeem Jeffries, liberal columnists, and even unhealthy breakfast foods can all be DEMONIC. It’s primarily a tool for partisan warfare, but many of those who see Belial everywhere think this actually explains events. Megyn Kelly, once the face of moderate girlboss Republicanism, now greatly fears hexes and demonic forces interfering with political affairs.

Demon posting is extremely popular within our sphere because it adds an exciting element to ordinary politics and literally demonizes the enemy. But it causes befuddlement among those outside it. Witness how the story of Tucker Carlson’s alleged assault by a demon was treated by those outside of the conservative consumer market. Ordinary people thought the podcaster had lost his marbles. Conservatives, however, thought it was a profound story.

The MAGA Religious Right, in a nutshell, is more eager to provide state funding to exorcists than to repeal gay marriage.

Megyn, like most of the successful talkers on the right, is following her audience down market.

The growing number of conversations about demons on the American religious right is part of the reveling in the porous identity (that we are not independent of the physical and spiritual world around us unlike the buffered identity of the Enlightenment).

ChatGPT says: It’s less about doctrine or catechism and more about affect, mood, and spectacle.

A few key dynamics stand out:

1. Demon talk as identity performance
Calling everything “demonic” collapses politics, culture, and spirituality into one category of cosmic struggle. It lets believers see themselves not just as partisans, but as embattled warriors in a literal spiritual war. That kind of language erases boundaries between self and world: your entertainment choices, your diet, your vote all become channels for supernatural forces. This porousness is exciting, because it makes everyday life feel mythic. It’s also destabilizing—because once everything is potentially demonic, nothing feels safe or settled.

2. From Moral Majority to “Mötley Crüe Christianity”
The old Religious Right was buttoned-up, wary of sounding crazy, and careful about presenting Christianity as respectable. Today’s version delights in the outrageous. Talking about demons openly is part of the style shift: it signals defiance against liberal norms, against mainstream ridicule, even against old evangelical caution. That flamboyance is exactly what Trump brought into politics. The theology is less consistent, but the vibe is clear: “We don’t care if you think this sounds nuts; it’s fun, it’s powerful, and it makes us feel alive.”

3. Demons as partisan shorthand
Labeling opponents or cultural trends as demonic functions as a weaponized meme. It compresses complex debates into stark good-versus-evil binaries. It also allows people to indulge in strong emotions—fear, rage, glee—without needing coherent policy positions. It’s not about advancing doctrine; it’s about keeping the tribe mobilized and energized.

4. The “post-religious right” loop
Ross Douthat feared Trump would lead to a paganized or post-Christian right. But what we’re seeing is a kind of hybrid: not secular, not orthodox, but a bricolage of megachurch theatrics, online Catholic aesthetics, and demon memes. It’s Christianity as a cultural weapon more than a spiritual discipline. That porousness means people can dip in and out—posting about hexes one day, swinging and drug use the next—without seeing contradiction.

5. Revival or cosplay?
The big question is whether this demon talk represents a genuine religious revival or more of a stylized, partisan religiosity. Right now, it looks more like cosplay than catechesis—less about saving souls, more about owning the libs. But it could still have real political and cultural force, because affect and spectacle often matter more than doctrine in shaping movements.

So yes: the new demon talk reflects a porous, performative identity. It turns politics into exorcism, memes into theology, and everyday grievances into supernatural battles. It’s not your father’s Religious Right—it’s Trumpist religiosity, loud and theatrical, built for an online age.

Posted in America, Christianity | Comments Off on Demons Are Interesting

The James Comey Indictment

Since 1968, 142 Republican presidential administration officials have been indicted vs three Democrats. Grok: “This disparity (142 vs. 3) has fueled claims of systemic bias, as rated “Half True” by PolitiFact—accurate on the raw numbers but potentially explained by more scandals in Republican eras rather than grand jury prejudice.”

What type of people have the time and the inclination to sit on grand juries? It would not surprise me if they were disproportionately left-wing activists.

So far the indictment against James Comey seems muddled and unimpressive. I agree with Mark Halperin that if this indictment is based more on Trump’s vendetta than on justice, that is a bad things for many reasons, including that it encourages those who work for Trump to engage in similarly petty behavior. I agree with Dan Turrentine that people in the political middle hate this sort of thing. They hated the lawfare against Trump and they hate Trump engaging in petty vendettas.

Giuliano da Empoli, author of the novel ‘The Wizard of the Kremlin’, writes in the FT:

In the US, lawyers are rivalled only by politicians as the most hated professional group. Is it any wonder, then, that the lawyers’ party was overwhelmed? That a platform entirely conceived by lawyers, centred on the defence of democratic procedures and respect for minority rights, whose main argument consisted in the lawsuits against the Republican candidate, was swept away by the recriminations of Trump supporters: inflation, illegal immigration, class contempt?

Populist leaders and tech bros do not have the same vision of the future in mind…What they have in common, however, is both an enemy and a strategy: kill all the lawyers. Together, political predators and digital conquistadors have decided to wipe out the old elites and their rules. If they succeed in achieving this goal, it will not only be the parties of lawyers and technocrats that will be swept away, but also liberal democracy as we have known it until today.

ChatGPT comments: Da Empoli’s piece is provocative because it draws together two forces that are usually analyzed separately — populist politics and tech disruption — and argues they are converging against liberal democratic norms. A few key angles of analysis:

1. The “lawyers’ party” critique

He’s suggesting liberal democracy is identified with lawyers and technocrats — professionals of rules, procedures, and process. In the U.S. especially, Democrats have leaned heavily on lawfare against Trump (lawsuits, prosecutions, constitutional arguments). But for a public angry about inflation, immigration, and class contempt, that looks like form over substance. So when he says “the lawyers’ party was overwhelmed,” it’s a blunt recognition that appeals to legality don’t mobilize the electorate as powerfully as populist appeals to lived problems.

2. The Shakespearean “kill all the lawyers” thread

He’s borrowing the old line as shorthand for revolt against the rules-bound class that mediates power. Historically, lawyers were the interface between rulers and ruled. Today, liberal democrats and EU technocrats play the same role. To populists and tech moguls alike, they’re obstacles: they slow things down, constrain what’s possible, and speak in a language alien to ordinary people. That makes them a shared enemy, even if populists want state power and tech bros want market or platform power.

3. Populists and tech moguls as strange bedfellows

On the surface, they’re opposites: Trump or Milei conjure the past; Musk or Altman claim the future. But both thrive on transgression, disruption, and spectacle. Both disdain institutional limits and “experts.” Both depend on virality rather than slow deliberation. Both define themselves against the Davos class — the technocrats in suits, the cautious managers of order. Da Empoli is arguing this structural affinity explains why tech titans have begun openly allying with populists.

4. The offensive vs. defensive power imbalance

His analogy to military history is sharp: online, offense (disinformation, outrage campaigns, norm-breaking) is cheap, while defense (fact-checking, due process, procedural democracy) is costly and slow. This asymmetry destabilizes democracies — the same way the advent of the longbow or machine gun overturned old rules of warfare. Populists and tech moguls exploit this dynamic, while defenders of the liberal order are stuck with slower, weaker tools.

5. Regime change, not just politics

He pushes further than most commentators by framing this as “regime change.” Populists and tech bros aren’t just competing for office or market share; they’re undermining the legitimacy of liberal-democratic rules themselves — voting, minority rights, checks and balances. That’s why he warns that if they succeed, it’s not just Democrats or Eurocrats who lose, but liberal democracy itself.

6. Limits of his argument

He overstates unity: tech moguls don’t all lean right-populist (e.g. Altman publicly supports regulation; Bezos often tilts centrist).

The “lawyers’ party” framing risks caricature: many lawyers are central to both populist and anti-populist movements.

He leaves underdeveloped the fact that tech moguls and populists ultimately diverge on globalization, immigration, and markets. Their coalition may be tactical, not durable.

7. Why it resonates now

Western publics increasingly see rules as scams, not safeguards. In that environment, disruptive figures — whether populist politicians or tech visionaries — can frame liberal-democratic norms as elite tricks. Da Empoli is essentially warning that when the guardians of rules are despised, those rules may not survive.

Posted in America | Comments Off on The James Comey Indictment

Suffering Is Good

David Pinsof writes: Your brain evolved to seek stuff in the world—like food and status and safety—that was correlated with biological fitness in ancestral environments…

When you suffer, your brain does all sorts of useful things for you. It figures out what went wrong, adjusts your expectations, updates your beliefs, gives you an adrenaline jolt (if you’re under threat), lowers your energy (if you’re helpless), and recalibrates your motivations to the right level. Suffering is useful. It’s designed by evolution to help you deal with bad things, avoid making them worse, and prevent them from happening again in the future.

Once you recognize this fact, all the puzzles disappear. Why do teenagers get crushes on people out of their league? Because that’s how they learn what league they’re in. Why do little kids get so many boo-boos? Because every boo-boo is a learning opportunity for their clumsy little bodies. Why do we want to know when our partner is cheating on us, even if it makes us suffer? Because we’re not trying to avoid suffering; we’re trying to avoid being cheated on. Why do we watch horror movies, read bad news, give ourselves mild electric shocks, and have nightmares? So we can learn about dangerous stuff without putting ourselves in danger. Why do we say we “grow” from suffering? Because we do grow! It’s not bullshit.

But there’s another puzzle to solve. Why do we talk as if suffering is bad? It’s pretty weird when you think about it. Suffering is good for us—it helps us learn and grow—and yet we talk about it as if it were a mental substance of intrinsic hellishness. Why do we act like we hate suffering so much?

Because we’re bullshitting…

We want pity points. We’re like personal injury lawyers trying to milk the jury for sympathy. Personal injury lawyers don’t just want to recover lost wages for their clients; they want compensation for the “pain and suffering” caused by the injury. That means the “pain and suffering” have to be bad. Very bad. If they weren’t bad, they wouldn’t merit compensation. So all of us, including personal injury lawyers, pretend that suffering is the worst thing in the world, because it maximizes the “compensation” we get from the jury of our peers—i.e., more yummy pity points.

We want to hide our unflattering motives. Our motives are often pretty ugly. For example, we feel “friendship jealousy” when our friends like other people more than they like us. But when we suffer friendship jealousy, we cannot come out and say why we’re suffering. We cannot say “I feel like shit because you’re spending time with people who are not me, and I want you all to myself, because I’m a clingy, selfish person”. Instead, we say “I’m feeling hurt”. When asked what’s wrong, we bullshit about the awfulness of what we’re feeling, as if the problem was a bad thing inside our heads, instead of our friend having a social life.

We want to show we care. Imagine something terrible happened to you. Say, you lost your job. You tell your friend about it and try to get sympathy. Your friend says, “Meh, big deal. I read a blog post about how suffering is actually good for you and you’re just bullshitting about how bad it is.” I’m guessing you would not think very highly of your friend. The point of a true friend is to help you through hard times. That means your friend has to see that you’re having a hard time and feel a powerful urge to help you. They have to take your suffering seriously. So friends engage in the social ritual of credulously believing each other’s sob stories, including their bullshit about the terrible suffering inside their heads, to show they care—that they’re good friends…

We need to rethink our relationship with suffering. We demonize it and fail to appreciate its benefits. We try so hard to protect our kids from suffering that we prevent them from learning and growing. We pretend our suffering is the worst thing in the world, because sympathy has become a form of status, our tears a social currency. We’ve forgotten the virtues of resilience, stoicism, and fortitude. These character traits have been virtues across cultures for a reason: they’re good. It’s good to be strong. It’s bad to be needy, to be a complainer, to be constantly fiddling away on one’s sadness-violin. Yes, being compassionate is good. But it’s also good to avoid being a burden on others—itself a form of compassion.

Posted in Happiness | Comments Off on Suffering Is Good

The grammar of anger: Mapping the computational architecture of a recalibrational emotion

From a 2017 paper: According to the recalibrational theory of anger, anger is a computationally complex cognitive system that evolved to bargain for better treatment. Anger coordinates facial expressions, vocal changes, verbal
arguments, the withholding of benefits, the deployment of aggression, and a suite of other cognitive and physiological variables in the service of leveraging bargaining position into better outcomes. The prototypical trigger of anger is an indication that the offender places too little weight on the angry individual’s welfare when making decisions, i.e. the offender has too low a welfare tradeoff ratio (WTR) toward the angry individual…

The function identified by the recalibrational theory of anger is to resolve conflicts of interest more in favor of the angry individual. That is, the anger system was designed by natural selection to orchestrate the subcomponents of the organism’s architecture (e.g. physiology, behavior, cognitive structures) in order to leverage its bargaining advantages over another organism and incentivize that organism to place more weight on the angry individual’s welfare. Informally, the signal is (in cooperative relationships) do more of what I want or I will do less of what you want, and (in noncooperative relationships) do more of what I want or I will inflict costs on you…

Anger is designed to bargain for better treatment. Thus, anger has features designed to gather the attention of the target and interact with that target in ways that – if successful – incline the target to behave in a way that more highly values the angry person’s interests in the present or future. Indeed, the major features of anger are all consistent with this function…

Once anger has motivated the actor to gather the attention of the target, it enacts strategies designed to interface with and recalibrate cognitive structures in the target (Averill, 1982, 1983). This is usually done by rapid, focused communication with the target, e.g., an argument or a display. During these arguments, anger modifies the voice in ways that generally increase the speed and salience of speech (Banse & Scherer, 1996), and signal through increasing volume and roughening of the voice the activation of the sympathetic pathways involved in preparation for combat. This communication should be relevant to the bargaining dynamics between the two individuals, based on the ability to confer benefits, or to inflict harms (aggression). The angry individual should emphasize that the offense placed too little weight on their welfare, given the benefit to the offender. Other relevant features are the importance of the benefits that the angry individual has conferred previously, or could withhold. If the two are not in a cooperative relationship, then the angry individual could emphasize his ability to inflict costs (demonstrate formidability) by e.g., pounding a table, shaking a fist, breaking something, or striking the target

Posted in Anger | Comments Off on The grammar of anger: Mapping the computational architecture of a recalibrational emotion

NYT: The Debate Style That Propelled Charlie Kirk’s Movement

My dad was good at arguing. He devoted his life to arguing. He got a PhD in argument (Rhetoric). He developed a following from his ability to argue.

None of this endeared my dad to me or to my brother or to normies. I suspect there had to be something unbalanced, something off, by those who were dazzled by my dad’s ability to argue.

If you are a normal person, you get all the meaning you need in life from your family. If that is not enough, then you get meaning from your friends, community, career, interests. You don’t need to secure meaning from polemicists.

When my dad would meet up with his evangelist peers, they’d compete by sharing the number of people they had baptized.

Evangelists tend to view people as fodder for Christ. They’re not a fun bunch.

Everybody wants status. What type of status you seek reveals you. For example, I want status for my clarity in the pursuit of truth.

People in high-intensity religions (such as Seventh-Day Adventism, Mormonism, Orthodox Judaism and the clergy in less intense denominations) disproportionately seek status within their in-group for their religious commitment while people with less intense religious commitments primarily seek status outside of religion.

Psychologist David Pinsof says: “If we’re just honest about our actual, unflattering motivations—because I think the biggest source of human bullshit is the unwillingness to honestly disclose unflattering truths about ourselves and our desires. Since we’re unwilling to disclose those truths, we cover them up with bullshit and give reasons instead that sound nicer and prettier.”

I find the clear arguments by this UCLA psychologist more useful than all of my dad’s arguments put together:

David Pinsof writes:

The goal is to subtly punish people for questioning our dogmas or dissing our allies. When we argue about politics, we’re playing The Opinion Game—the secret war over social norms. And the norm we want to establish is: respect our tribe.

Think of the Soviet Union. Everyone secretly hates Stalin, but Stalin and his apparatchiks work very hard to prevent people from becoming aware of that fact. Because if everyone did become aware of their mutual hatred for Stalin, they would rise up to overthrow him. Bad news for Stalin.

So Stalin and his apparatchiks force people to parrot Soviet propaganda as loudly as possible, as publicly as possible, so that no one knows who the anti-Stalinists are, or how many anti-Stalinists there are in their midst. This prevents the anti-Stalinists from coordinating and rallying together. If anyone refuses to parrot the Soviet propaganda, or refuses to parrot it loudly enough—off to the gulags they go. Some version of this strategy is, to my knowledge, used by every authoritarian regime that has ever existed. It’s a very effective strategy for maintaining power…

If people don’t parrot the coalition’s propaganda, or don’t parrot it loudly enough, they get “cancelled.” Getting cancelled isn’t as bad as getting sent to the gulags, but the outcome is the same. The opposition is silenced. The coalition maintains power…

Here are some other dark purposes of arguing:

We want to rally our tribe.

We want to rationalize.

We want to verbally spar.

We want to defend our status.

We want to defend our tribes.

We want to attack others’ status.

We want to cover up the fact that we’re doing all these dark, ugly things…

How can you tell if you’re in a pseudo-argument? Here are some warning signs:

The person is not genuinely listening to what you’re saying and considering its implications.

The person does not ask you any questions and makes no attempt to get clarification on what you mean.

The person is arguing against positions you do not hold—positions that are far dumber and crazier than what you believe.

The person is interpreting what you say in the worst possible light.

The person is unwilling to acknowledge any valid points you make or mention any cases where they agree with you.

The person is angry, offended, or upset.

The argument revolves around issues that are central to the person’s tribal identity or social status.

The person is overconfident, talking about complex issues as if they were simple and alternative views as if they were crazy.

The person engages in whataboutism or deflection, focusing more on the relative status of people or tribes than the truth of propositions.

There is no sense of curiosity or mystery.

There is no sense of collaboration in getting to the truth.

It is unclear what is even being argued about.

The person interrupts you and would rather talk than listen.

The person dodges your questions.

Whenever the person’s views are on the brink of looking dubious, they change the subject.

Here’s my advice. If you find yourself in a pseudo-argument, RUN! Get out of that situation. Nothing good will come from it.

I never had any interest in Charlie Kirk while he was alive because he seemed like a Ben Shapiro level debater. Even if he were a galaxy level debater, he would not have interested me. Growing up as the child of a skilled rhetorician who made me read 30-40 pages of Christian apologetics every day but the Sabbath and type a one-page summary (from age 8-11), I grew to hate apologetics. I don’t care for Jewish apologetics, Israel apologetics, conservative apologetics. If there’s some performative argument going on, I want to be far away.

After Charlie Kirk was shot, I thought about him more than the entire time he was alive. He was transfigured in my mind from a polemicist to a martyr.

The New York Times reports Sep. 27, 2025:

Charlie Kirk may be best remembered for arguing in public.

A cornerstone of Mr. Kirk’s devoted conservative following was his twice-yearly tours of universities around the country. For hours, he would cheerfully perch on a folding chair and challenge students and the public to, as he called it, “Prove Me Wrong.”

By tackling hot-button issues like abortion and trans rights, Mr. Kirk created content that became perfect fodder for brand-building on social media. Curated clips highlighting his wins, promoted with captions describing him as “destroying” liberals, have racked up tens of millions of views on TikTok, YouTube and Instagram…

One of Mr. Kirk’s favorite topics — and the title of one of his books — was “The College Scam,” which reflected his opinion that college was a waste of time and money. (Mr. Kirk himself dropped out of community college.)

Although he elsewhere had stated that the point of college is “to become a well-rounded citizen of what is good, true and beautiful,” in the clip below, he suggested the primary goal of higher education was to compete with China and that majors like women’s studies were “irrelevant.”

This line of argument was most likely to provoke emotional reactions from opponents — who after all were college students invested in their own education. And rhetoric experts agree that getting upset or defensive is a surefire way to end up on the losing side of a debate…

Part of Mr. Kirk’s advantage came from repetition. He debated hundreds of people and learned how to shape conversation — and where to drop in canned audience pleasers. This wisecrack about “North African lesbian poetry,” delivered at the University of Wyoming in April, was hardly spontaneous…

The Times found at least four other examples of him using the exact same line in the past two years.

Even on the most progressive campuses, Mr. Kirk’s debates drew large and boisterous contingents of supporters, cheering him on in MAGA hats. But while he traded barbs with his adversaries, he often discouraged heckling. By making space for opposing viewpoints, he enhanced his image as a defender of free speech while centering his own argument.

Additionally, by restraining his audience from shouting down his opponents, Mr. Kirk insulated himself from seeming like a bully to many viewers of clips shared on social media.

During this debate at the University of Tennessee in March, a student asked Mr. Kirk whether he thought abortions should be allowed when a mother’s life is in danger.

Mr. Kirk, who opposed abortion, responded by proposing a cesarean section as a better alternative, and then asked the student if she knew what the procedure was. It was a tactic Mr. Kirk frequently used: asking opponents to define a term, so he could score easy points by making them appear uninformed if they could not.

In this case, the student knew what a C-section was, so Mr. Kirk quickly pivoted to another common strategy by addressing allies in the crowd — “this is for you guys” — with advice on how they should respond to the question if it ever came up in their own lives.

Mr. Kirk’s claim that C-sections are safer than abortions is widely disputed by medical professionals….

Later in this debate with the same student at the University of Tennessee, Mr. Kirk shifted to more extreme rhetoric, calling abortion “worse” than the Holocaust.

Ben Voth, a professor of rhetoric and director of debate and speech at Southern Methodist University, cited “discussing forbidden topics and upholding forbidden arguments” as a muscular and emotionally resonant strategy to which Mr. Kirk regularly returned.

(Mr. Kirk also mentioned “45 million babies,” presumably a reference to a number of abortions, without specifying where or over what period of time they took place.)

After more back-and-forth, Mr. Kirk laid a rhetorical trap. When the student replied “human” to his question about what species an embryo is, he claimed victory, saying that implied embryos deserve human rights.

Aaron Kall, who coached the University of Michigan to its first national championship as director of debate last year, called that kind of move a “turn” — using the other person’s own words to prove your point. “It has more impact when you turn your opponent’s argument to your advantage,” Mr. Kall said.

In this debate about critical race theory, Mr. Kirk borrowed from the Socratic method, using questions to steer his opponent into a disadvantage. Flustered, the young person conceded ground, and he leapt to occupy it. “This is great,” he said before asking another question designed to frame the opposing position.

It generated the response Mr. Kirk seems to have hoped for, and he pounced, accusing his opponent of insulting “the working poor” by suggesting there’s a correlation between poverty and violent crime. Bill Southworth, a professor of speech and debate at the University of Redlands, described this approach as trying to “trivialize” his opponent as an out-of-touch member of the elite, while “increasing his own ethos” as the defender of regular, working-class people.

Mr. Kirk later tried another of his frequently used tactics, introducing a compelling statistic in order to demolish a claim about poverty and crime — in this case, that 80 percent of Black people in America “do not have a stable father around.” The problem is that the stat, which he often cited in debates, is not accurate.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Mr. Kirk frequently offered in debates. What followed did not always deliver on that promise. Here, he made some categorically unprovable assertions about the differences between women and men, including what women discuss when they have lunch.

By playing up stereotypes, Mr. Kirk was once again pushing emotional buttons. He also may have been trying to overwhelm his opponent with what Carl Trigilio, who has coached championship debaters at the high school and college levels, calls “sensory overload.” The tactic can be successful because it is challenging to rebut every point and forces opponents to passively concede points.

In the most viral videos of Mr. Kirk’s debates on social media, he looks strikingly composed, armed with enough rhetorical weapons and poise that he seems to never “lose.”

Over the next seven years, Mr. Kirk refined his debating skills considerably, picking up vast stores of confidence and keeping his composure.

That skill and polish stood out in particular when taking on idealistic undergraduates with little to no debating experience, a core feature of most of his appearances. In this clip from 2025, Mr. Kirk answers the question, “Why do you like Trump so much?” by calmly and methodically overwhelming his opponent with a litany of memorized talking points delivered at high speed, a technique that Dr. Voth said tends to be “connotative of intelligence” to audiences.

Late last year, Mr. Kirk sat down for what would be one of his most viral debates, against what he described as “20 woke college kids,” in a staged event organized by the media company Jubilee. In this clip, Mr. Kirk can be seen at the top of his game, leading off by asking his opponent to define a woman while debating the topic “trans women are not women.” The full debate video has racked up more than 37 million views on Jubilee’s YouTube channel and spun off countless highlight reels that laud Mr. Kirk as “owning” and “destroying” his liberal opponents.

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People Don’t Want To Be Happy

The “Everything is Bullshit” blog by UCLA psychologist David Pinsof is my most exciting discovery since I found Aaron Renn profiled in the New York Times March 10, 2025 and subscribed to his Substack.

I love this guy’s claim that happiness is a status game. By conventional standards, I do not have high status, but I tell myself I have status because I’m happy.

In 2010, I was talking to some Seventh-Day Adventist faculty at Loma Linda University who knew my dad. One of them said, and I think the rest agreed, that I seemed much happier than my standard. So I stored up that comment and use it bolster my sense of self. Sure, I don’t have my dad’s accomplishments, but darn it, I’m happier than him! And for that, I want you to award me status!

We love to brag about our happiness and we tend to award status to people who embody happiness but it is not clear where there is an evolutionary payoff for happiness.

I am the easiest person in the world to manipulate. Just ask me, “What do you think about X?” Nothing intoxicates me more than your attention.

David Pinsof writes: We want sex. We want to be sexy. We want tasty yum yums for our face-holes. We want to establish dominance, or we want to display submission. We want to stay warm, avoid snakes, use tools, support our tribes, not be on fire, ascend social hierarchies, form alliances, show off our health and virtue, nurture cute babies (preferably ones that share our DNA), and make people feel indebted to us (so they’ll help us in the future when we’re sick or injured).

These are the sorts of things we want—the things that helped our ancestors survive and reproduce. Not happiness.

Once we accept this fact, everything starts to make sense. Why do we read so much bad news? Because scary stuff can kill us and happy stuff can’t. Why are we bored by Positive Psychology? No sex or death in it. Why do we work too much? Status anxiety. Why do we simmer in anger and shitpost on Twitter? Dominance. Why do we beat ourselves up and stay friends with assholes? Submission. Why do we have kids, even though they make us miserable? Come on.

The actual motives of human primates are pretty unflattering, and we would prefer not to talk about them. That’s why we pretend that happiness (or self-actualization or whatever) is the reason for everything we do. It’s the perfect PR story. We run cancer marathons not to show off our health and virtue, but because we find it “rewarding.” We help our friends not to make them feel indebted to us, but because we’re “happy” to do it. “So glad you could make it,” we say to the asshole. “Happy to take care of it,” we say to our boss. We tell people we want to be happy because it sounds good.

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