Born in Montreal on December 24, 1963, Paul Bloom entered McGill University intending to become a clinical child psychologist, having spent his teenage years working with autistic children. The clinical impulse did not survive contact with cognitive science. Under philosopher-psychologist John Macnamara, whose work on innate constraints in language acquisition pulled against behaviorist orthodoxies, Bloom shifted toward theoretical developmental psychology. At MIT, where he took his doctorate in cognitive psychology under Susan Carey in 1990, and in close collaboration with Steven Pinker, Bloom absorbed a picture of the mind as preloaded rather than blank.
After a decade at the University of Arizona, Bloom joined Yale in 1999. How Children Learn the Meanings of Words (2000) synthesized his dissertation work and argued that word learning depends heavily on social cognition, on inferring the intentions of other speakers, rather than on purely associative learning. That capacity generates systematic error. The same machinery that lets a child learn language lets an adult see agency where none exists or project essence where there is only variation.
Descartes’ Baby (2004) made this explicit and pushed it into politically uncomfortable territory. Bloom argued that humans are natural-born dualists and essentialists. We instinctively separate mind from body and assume that objects, especially people, have hidden essences that define what they really are. Infants expect physical objects to behave one way and agents to behave another. They attribute purposes and souls. Religious belief is not primarily a cultural imposition but a natural outgrowth of cognition. Prejudice is not merely ignorance but the dark face of the same essentialism that lets us categorize the world at all.
How Pleasure Works (2010) extended the argument into a domain people tend to treat as self-justifying. Pleasure is saturated with belief. A piece of chocolate shaped like feces tastes worse than an identical piece shaped differently, not because of the material but because of what the mind takes it to represent. Wine believed to be expensive tastes better than the same wine labeled cheap. A work of art thought to be authentic moves us more than an indistinguishable forgery. What feels direct is mediated. What seems given is constructed. And once you see the construction, the authority of the feeling weakens. You can no longer treat your reactions as transparent windows onto value.
Just Babies: The Origins of Good and Evil (2013) is often read as an optimistic book because it argues that moral concern is present in infants as young as three months. In experiments from the Yale Baby Lab, six-month-olds consistently prefer a puppet that helps another puppet up a hill over one that pushes it down. They show rudimentary preferences for fairness and helpfulness before culture could plausibly have installed them.
The infant moral mind arrives bundled with parochialism, with in-group preference, and with punitive instincts. The same baby who prefers the helper also wants to punish the hinderer. That impulse, scaled up across coalitions and generations, is precisely what makes human moral history so bloody.
This puts him into a sustained, if mostly civil, argument with Jonathan Haidt, whose work rehabilitates moral intuitions as evolved wisdom, as the depositaries of social knowledge accumulated across generations. Where Haidt treats intuitions as data to be respected, Bloom treats them as phenomena to be explained and, often, resisted. Where Haidt sounds like a defender of moral common sense, Bloom sounds like a critic who wants to keep common sense on a short leash.
Bloom argued that emotional empathy, feeling what others feel, is a poor guide to moral action. It is biased toward people who look like us and stories that have faces attached to them. It is easily manipulated by media, advocacy, and legal narrative. And when scaled into policy, it produces worse aggregate outcomes than a colder, more statistical form of concern for welfare. Bloom was writing into an environment in which empathy had been elevated to something approaching a moral gold standard. Journalists demand it. Institutions train for it. Activists deploy it.
Victim impact statements are institutionalized empathy triggers. Prosecutors and plaintiffs’ lawyers know exactly how to make one story feel vivid and another abstract. Sentencing varies with how sympathetic the victim appears and how legible the defendant’s suffering is.
His proposed alternative, rational compassion, aligns him with a specific coalition: policy-minded liberals, effective altruists, and a strand of rationalism that distrusts anecdote and privileges aggregate outcomes.
The Sweet Spot (2021) extended the pleasure work into the territory of voluntary suffering. Bloom argued that certain forms of what he called “benign masochism,” horror films, spicy food, intense physical effort, are pleasurable precisely because they combine pain with the knowledge that the pain is safe and chosen.
That implication becomes central in his recent work on artificial intelligence. His 2025 New Yorker essay and subsequent co-authored papers warn that AI companions and “frictionless” AI environments risk eroding the very processes through which human development and meaning-making occur. Learning, relationships, moral development, even pleasure itself, arise from effort, misunderstanding, resistance, and correction. A system that anticipates needs and removes difficulty does not liberate its user. It flatters and amplifies existing biases while weakening the corrective mechanisms that might otherwise improve them.
Psych: The Story of the Human Mind (2023) functions as both capstone and reckoning. Drawing on decades of teaching Yale’s introductory psychology course, one of the first offered through Open Yale Courses, Bloom surveys the field’s achievements and blind spots. He acknowledges the replication crisis, the oversold claims, the gap between lab results and applied policy. He has noted in interviews that studying psychology made him less confident, not more, in quick prescriptions for human flourishing.
Now based at the University of Toronto (he moved for love) while retaining his emeritus ties to Yale, Bloom continues to work at the intersection of cognitive science, moral philosophy, and public discourse through his Substack “Small Potatoes.”
Three institutional nodes carry him. The University of Toronto pays his salary now. Yale pays him as emeritus. Cambridge University Press, through his sole editorship of Behavioral and Brain Sciences, gives him gatekeeping power in cognitive science, psychology, neuroscience, and philosophy of mind. That editorship is the most consequential piece of structural power he holds. He decides which target articles get accepted, which scholars get invited to write commentaries, and which topics the field treats as worth its collective scrutiny.
The trade-press and intellectual-media network runs alongside the academic one. The New Yorker, the Atlantic, Sam Harris’s podcast, Tyler Cowen’s, Russ Roberts’s, the TED circuit. This network supplies income through book advances and speaking fees and amplifies whatever the academic network credentials him to say. Against Empathy became Against Empathy because this network decided to carry it.
His Substack and his roughly ninety thousand Twitter followers add a third channel he controls directly. Substack revenue, direct audience loyalty, distribution independent of legacy media gatekeeping. This channel matters more now than it did ten years ago because the legacy tolerances have narrowed while his direct-audience reach has grown.
Protection comes from tenure and emeritus status, from the American Psychological Association and Society for Philosophy and Psychology networks, from the soft shield of being recognized as one of the serious people in cognitive science. Karen Wynn, his wife and a Yale developmental psychologist who ran the Yale Infant Cognition Center, is a professional partner with her own standing. His move to Toronto was for her, to join her where she took a position, not a calculation about field topology.
Funders include NIH and NSF at various points, and he has been adjacent to Templeton-funded conversations on meaning and religion without, as far as I can confirm, being a primary Templeton grantee. Worth checking directly.
Who does he need to attract or retain as allies?
The developmental and cognitive psychology community is the load-bearing alliance. If that community stopped citing him, the empirical ballast of the public-intellectual career would erode. He has to keep producing work the field takes seriously and editing BBS in a way the field accepts.
Pinker, Tetlock, the evolutionary psychology network, the philosophers of mind who take empirical work seriously. These are peers rather than funders but they supply the intellectual legitimacy. A Pinker blurb does work a hundred positive reviews cannot.
The effective altruist and rationalist-adjacent audience is a newer alliance and a consequential one. Rational compassion maps onto the EA sensibility: trust aggregation, distrust anecdote, prefer statistical welfare to vivid suffering. This audience is smaller than the general New Yorker readership but more loyal. It produces podcast invitations and Substack subscribers and the direct-to-audience channel he increasingly relies on.
The elite media commissioning editors at the New Yorker, the Atlantic, Boston Review, the podcast hosts. He needs to remain the kind of writer these outlets want. That means holding certain positions and not straying into terrain that would make him unplaceable. A Bloom who wrote openly on behavioral-genetics implications for group differences in moral intuitions would not get commissioned by the same outlets.
Heterodox-adjacent networks, Heterodox Academy, Jonathan Rauch’s circle, the academic-freedom crowd. He can attend their events and write on viewpoint diversity and self-censorship without being absorbed, and this membership signals that he critiques his field’s monoculture. His Substack pieces on developmental psychology and on academic cowardice, two republished in the Chronicle of Higher Education, keep this membership current.
Students. Graduate students who carry the framework forward, undergraduate readers who produce the word-of-mouth for trade books. The Open Yale Course in introductory psychology generated a reader base that still buys his books.
What beliefs and signals mark membership in his coalition?
The central belief is that the mind is a biased generator, that intuitions are data to be explained rather than trusted, and that reason can correct cognition even though cognition is rigged. Members accept all three claims together.
The vocabulary is the passport. Cognitive biases. Motivated reasoning. System 1 and System 2. Innate modules. Heuristics. Replication crisis. Effect sizes. Base rates. WEIRD samples. Aggregate outcomes. To use these terms fluently is to signal membership. To prefer lived experience or standpoint epistemology from one side, or gut wisdom and sacred values from the other, is to mark oneself as outside.
The opponents are specific. Blank-slate social constructionists on one flank. Haidt-style defenders of moral intuition as evolved wisdom on the other. Bloom’s position sits between them, and the middle position takes active maintenance against pull from either side.
Empathy criticism is a signal. So is cautious engagement with behavioral genetics, skepticism of implicit bias research and stereotype threat, the replication-crisis posture that signals methodological seriousness, and arm’s-length sympathy with effective altruism.
Style is content. Measured, qualified, willing to say uncomfortable things without raising the voice, willing to concede small points while holding the main position. That style is itself a coalition credential. Loud attacks from the same positions do not get into the New Yorker. The mildness is the passport.
Beliefs the coalition rejects: that moral intuitions are self-validating, that empathy is an unalloyed good, that professional elites are uniquely free of tribal thinking, that AI companions are harmless, and more quietly, that group differences in behavioral and psychological traits are fully explained by external factors alone.
What would he have to give up if he changed his public position?
Four moves would cost him.
If he pushed the behavioral-genetics implications of his nativism to their group-differences conclusion, he would lose the elite media outlets and probably the BBS editorship. He would become a different kind of public intellectual, closer to Murray or Sullivan, with a narrower and more polarized audience. Substack might gain subscribers. The New Yorker would not commission him again.
If he turned coalition analysis on his own cohort, applying your kind of framework to rationalists, effective altruists, and elite cognitive scientists, he would lose that cohort. The rationalist audience reads him as a fellow traveler. Telling it that its preference for aggregate welfare is a convenient belief flattering to analytically trained professionals would cost him the direct-audience channel he has spent years building.
If he abandoned the measured register and wrote like a combatant, he would lose access to the institutions that host him. Pinker edges toward this and pays for it. Haidt less so. Murray constantly. The tone is the coalition credential.
If he wrote the piece Susan Gelman’s response to The Lure of Luxury pointed toward, applying psychological essentialism to organ-transplant prejudice, housing discrimination, the contamination logic of disgust-based politics, he would be writing coalition-relevant material with uncomfortable implications for his readers. Psychological essentialism drives both connoisseurship and bigotry. He has written the connoisseurship side for a popular audience. Writing the bigotry side with the same theoretical apparatus would put him in different company.
Two caveats
First, this is structural analysis, not motive-reading. The four questions describe affordances and constraints. They do not explain why Bloom writes what he writes. He may hold the positions he holds because he thinks they are true, and the coalition may happen to reward what he was going to do anyway. The framework cannot distinguish between “he believes it because his coalition rewards it” and “he believes it because he has good reasons,” and the honest version of the analysis concedes that.
Second, he holds real structural power. The BBS editorship is not soft influence or media access. It is gatekeeping over the most prestigious theoretical forum in cognitive science. Any account that treats him as reaching lay audiences without steering the field misreads the position. He reaches lay audiences and steers the field.
Pinsof, Sears, and Haselton argue in Strange Bedfellows that political belief systems do not derive from abstract values. They derive from alliance structures. Partisans select allies through similarity, transitivity, interdependence, and stochasticity, then defend those allies through propagandistic tactics: victim biases, perpetrator biases, attributional biases. The coherence a coalition’s members experience as principled conviction is, on the model, the signature of alliance work.
The standard treatments read bloom as the Yale and Toronto psychologist who has advanced our understanding of moral development, who argued against empathy as a guide to moral action, who has written accessibly about pleasure, cruelty, and the origins of good and evil, and who occupies a rare position as a senior academic willing to engage with questions the field usually avoids. Each description captures part of what Bloom does. The Alliance Theory reading organizes the descriptions into a more coherent account by treating his positions as coalition products, his methodological choices as coalition infrastructure, and his specific brand of contrarianism as a carefully managed performance that serves coalition interests while appearing to transgress them.
The coalition Bloom serves can be specified, though doing so requires distinguishing between the broader academic psychology coalition and the specific sub-coalition Bloom inhabits. Academic psychology as a discipline is not a single coalition. It contains multiple formations with distinct interests. The experimental cognitive psychology sub-discipline has its own coalition structure. The social psychology sub-discipline has another. The clinical psychology sub-discipline has a third. Within each, there are further sub-coalitions defined by methodological commitments, theoretical orientations, and institutional positions. Bloom operates at the intersection of experimental developmental psychology, moral psychology, and the broader public-intellectual formation that translates academic psychology for general audiences. His specific coalition includes figures like Steven Pinker, whose book projects and public positions overlap with Bloom’s. It includes Joshua Greene at Harvard, whose moral psychology work intersects with Bloom’s in specific ways. It extends through the broader network of cognitive scientists and philosophers who share the specific methodological and theoretical commitments that define the coalition. It includes the editors and contributors at venues like Aeon, the Atlantic, the New Yorker science section, and specific podcasts that platform this kind of work.
The coalition shares specific commitments. A broadly evolutionary framework for understanding human cognition and behavior. A willingness to engage with empirical findings that complicate simple progressive narratives, combined with careful management of how far the engagement goes before it produces coalition cost. A methodological preference for experimental work with clear findings over theoretical or qualitative approaches. A literary sensibility that values accessible prose without losing academic rigor. A political orientation that is broadly liberal but willing to criticize specific progressive positions, particularly those the coalition codes as anti-scientific or epistemically undisciplined. A commitment to reason, evidence, and secular analysis as the preferred mode of public discourse. An implicit hostility toward both religious traditionalism on one side and what the coalition calls wokeness on the other. The coalition calls itself many things: the rationalist tradition, the cognitive science mainstream, heterodox liberalism, the serious center. The names track the coalition’s self-understanding. The coalition is real.
Bloom’s specific position inside this coalition is as one of its most skilled public communicators. His books sell well. His essays appear in high-prestige venues. His podcast appearances reach audiences the coalition wants to reach. His academic credentials are unimpeachable. His prose is disciplined. His temperament permits him to engage controversial material without appearing shrill or partisan. These features make him a valuable coalition asset. The coalition rewards him with platforming, book contracts, positive reception from coalition-adjacent media, and the specific credibility transfers that flow between senior coalition members. The interdependence is direct.
Pinsof’s four criteria for ally choice describe Bloom’s coalition position cleanly.
Similarity operates through specific markers. Ivy League or equivalent credentials. Academic appointments at elite institutions (Yale, now Toronto). Publications in top journals and with prestige academic presses. Popular writing in specific venues coded as serious rather than partisan. A presentation style that emphasizes reasonableness, willingness to entertain opposing views, and personal modesty about the limits of one’s own knowledge. Command of the specific vocabulary the coalition uses: evolved, adaptive, cognitive, empirical, replicable, preregistered. Appropriate distance from the coalition’s embarrassments: the replication crisis figures whose work no longer replicates, the Evolutionary Psychology Gone Too Far figures whose political implications the coalition disclaims, the specific researchers whose findings the coalition finds useful but whose public conduct it prefers to distance itself from. Bloom displays all the similarity markers at a high level. His coalition recognizes him through them.
Transitivity clusters him with specific allies whose allies are his allies. Pinker centrally. Greene. Daniel Kahneman before his death. Tamar Gendler as a philosophical ally. Fiery Cushman as a methodological ally. Molly Crockett in specific moral psychology work. David Pizarro, his podcast co-host. The network extends outward through the broader cognitive science and public intellectual formations: Sam Harris on some questions, Tyler Cowen on others, Russ Roberts for a specific audience, Sean Carroll for the physics-adjacent crowd, Lex Fridman for the tech podcast audience. The rivals are also clustered: figures the coalition considers methodologically lax (the social priming researchers whose work did not replicate), ideologically captured (specific social psychologists whose work on bias the coalition considers overclaiming), or substantively wrong (the continental philosophical tradition, the critical theory tradition, the psychoanalytic tradition, the humanistic psychology tradition). The rivalry patterns are consistent across the cluster.
Interdependence is substantial. Bloom provides the coalition with high-quality popular writing, a stable academic base at a prestigious institution, and the specific credibility that his publications bring to coalition positions. He receives book contracts with major trade publishers, speaking invitations at prestige venues, positive reception in coalition-friendly media, and the specific ongoing professional rewards that coalition membership produces. The coalition’s reach extends through his work. His work reaches audiences through the coalition’s infrastructure. Neither could function as well without the other.
Stochasticity applies in specific ways. Bloom’s particular position was not inevitable. Had he trained in a different program, his coalition affiliations would have differed. Had his early work taken him in different methodological directions, he might have ended up inside a different sub-coalition or in a cross-pressured position that would have produced different output. Had his Canadian background and Toronto appointment placed him in a different institutional network, the coalition he now serves might not have been the one to absorb him. The specific path he took was shaped by contingent institutional factors, and the apparent coherence of his coalition affiliation is retrospective.
The three propagandistic biases run through Bloom’s work in identifiable ways.
Against Empathy is the book that most clearly reveals the framework at work. The argument is that empathy is a poor guide to moral action because it is biased toward the near, the identifiable, and the attractive, and that rational compassion would produce better outcomes. The argument is serious and has substantive content. The Alliance Theory reading does not dispute the substance. It notes that the argument serves specific coalition interests. The coalition Bloom inhabits has ongoing conflicts with formations that emphasize empathy, affective response, and emotional connection as legitimate epistemic guides. The primary rivals include progressive psychology formations that center lived experience and emotional response, continental philosophical traditions that emphasize affect and intersubjectivity, therapeutic traditions that treat empathic attunement as central to moral practice, and religious traditions that treat compassion as a theological virtue. Against Empathy provides Bloom’s coalition with a theoretical weapon against all these rivals. The weapon is labeled as contribution to moral psychology. Its function includes coalition warfare against adjacent sub-disciplines and cultural formations.
The specific way the argument is made displays Pinsof’s propagandistic pattern. Empathy gets defined in a specific way that makes it vulnerable to the critique. Rational compassion gets defined in a specific way that makes it robust to the same critique. The asymmetry is not examined. A symmetric analyst would notice that rational compassion, if deployed by
humans under cognitive constraints, would display many of the same biases empathy displays, just through different cognitive routes. Bloom’s treatment does not emphasize this symmetry. The asymmetric treatment is coalition-rational because it serves the coalition’s interest in elevating the cognitive tradition over the affective tradition.
Perpetrator biases protect allies. When coalition members produce research findings that support the coalition’s preferred positions, Bloom’s work treats the findings as evidence of successful science. When coalition-rival researchers produce comparable findings that support rival positions, his work applies stricter methodological scrutiny, raises concerns about replication, and emphasizes the preliminary nature of the evidence. The asymmetry is not total. Bloom maintains enough methodological rigor to be recognized as a serious scientist rather than as a coalition advocate. But the application of scrutiny is uneven in ways the framework makes visible. Specific examples include the differential treatment of evolutionary psychology findings that support coalition positions versus findings that complicate them, the differential treatment of moral psychology work that aligns with the coalition’s political preferences versus work that cuts against them, and the differential treatment of popular psychology figures whose coalition positions parallel Bloom’s versus those whose positions do not.
The bias also protects Bloom from self-audit. He has produced work for over three decades. The work has consistently served the coalition position described above. The coalition has shifted its specific concerns over that period, and Bloom’s work has shifted with it, but the direction of drift has not produced a single major departure from coalition-serving directions. The scholar might experience the consistency as reflecting the strength of his methods. The framework reads it as reflecting the strength of the coalition’s grip on what the scholar can see. Trivers’s self-deception finding applies cleanly. Bloom probably experiences his positions as reached through careful inquiry. The experience is what makes his coalition work effective.
Victim biases operate in specific registers. The coalition Bloom inhabits narrates itself as under assault from multiple directions. Religious traditionalists threaten scientific inquiry from the right. Progressive activists threaten scientific inquiry from the left. Anti-scientific movements attack evolutionary psychology, behavioral genetics, and other coalition-valued fields. University administrators capitulate to activist pressure in ways that damage free inquiry. Students arrive at university unprepared to engage rigorously with difficult questions. The coalition is beleaguered. Serious intellectual work requires courage to produce. Bloom’s writing deploys this narrative at specific points. His appearances on podcasts like Lex Fridman’s and Sam Harris’s often feature extended discussion of the coalition’s besieged status. His essays sometimes include coalition grievances as framing material.
The narrative is not empty. Some of what the coalition describes is real. Specific cases of academic capture, specific instances of activist overreach, specific failures of university governance. But the function of the narrative is support mobilization, and the intensity of deployment exceeds what specific instances support when examined individually. The coalition’s institutional position is dominant. Its members hold senior appointments at elite schools. Their books receive positive reviews in mainstream prestige venues. Their work is taught in the curricula they influence. Their research is funded at substantial rates. The beleaguered framing captures frustrations but miscounts the coalition’s position.
Competitive victimhood runs between Bloom’s coalition and its rivals. Progressive psychology formations narrate their own marginalization by the cognitive science mainstream. Religious formations narrate their exclusion from academic discourse by secular gatekeepers. Continental philosophical traditions narrate their displacement by analytic philosophy and cognitive science. All three rival formations produce victim narratives. All three narratives point at real phenomena. All three exceed the specific evidence in ways that serve coalition mobilization.
Attributional biases govern Bloom’s treatment of moral and psychological phenomena. Specific examples are instructive.
Human cruelty, which Bloom addressed in his book on the subject, gets treated through frameworks that emphasize specific cognitive and social features. The treatment draws on evolutionary psychology, moral psychology, and social psychology in ways the coalition recognizes as sound. The treatment does not draw on theological frameworks that would locate cruelty in original sin, on continental philosophical frameworks that would locate it in structural features of modernity, on critical theory frameworks that would locate it in specific historical formations like colonialism and capitalism, or on psychoanalytic frameworks that would locate it in unconscious conflict. The absence of these frameworks is coalition-rational. Incorporating them would require taking seriously the intellectual traditions Bloom’s coalition treats as rivals. The choice of framework is not neutral. It is coalition work.
Moral development, which Bloom addressed extensively in earlier work including Just Babies, gets treated through frameworks that emphasize the innate, the evolved, and the universal. The treatment draws on research findings that support specific views about the biological basis of moral cognition. The treatment does not engage substantially with cultural anthropological work that would emphasize cross-cultural variation, with sociological work that would emphasize the social construction of moral categories, or with developmental work in the Vygotskian tradition that would emphasize cultural mediation. The framing is not arbitrary. It serves the coalition’s ongoing project of establishing cognitive science as the authoritative framework for understanding moral life, against the rival frameworks the coalition wants to displace.
Pleasure, which Bloom addressed in How Pleasure Works, gets treated through specific frameworks that emphasize cognitive mediation and essentialist reasoning. The treatment is sophisticated and contains real content. It does not engage substantially with hedonic traditions in philosophy, with phenomenological accounts of pleasure in the continental tradition, or with religious traditions that treat certain forms of pleasure as spiritually significant. The choice of frame is coalition-rational. It locates Bloom’s work inside the cognitive science tradition and against the rival traditions.
The strange bedfellows inside Bloom’s coalition are worth naming. The coalition contains evolutionary psychologists whose work has specific political implications some members of the coalition prefer to avoid. It contains public-facing figures like Pinker whose political interventions have drawn criticism the coalition has had to manage. It contains heterodox liberals who have moved rightward in specific ways over the last decade, producing tension with members who remain firmly on the left. It contains figures like Sam Harris whose specific engagements with Islam and with other topics have placed strain on coalition cohesion. It contains researchers whose work on IQ and behavioral genetics produces results the coalition holds with varying degrees of public willingness to engage. The coalition manages these tensions through the standard Pinsof mechanisms: emphasis on external rivals, downplay of internal disagreement, selective engagement with specific members’ more controversial work, and the maintenance of a broad coalition vocabulary that permits members to hold their specific positions without forcing the coalition into explicit positions on the disagreements.
Bloom’s specific function within this management is to occupy a position that appears to transcend the tensions while managing them. His prose does not endorse the most controversial positions of Pinker or Harris. It also does not repudiate them in ways that would split the coalition. His specific book projects address topics where the coalition can be relatively united (empathy, cruelty, pleasure) while leaving the more contested areas to other figures. This specialization permits Bloom to maintain broad coalition support while avoiding the specific controversies that attend other coalition members. The specialization is strategic, whether or not Bloom experiences it strategically.
The podcast Psych, which Bloom co-hosts with David Pizarro, is worth examining as coalition infrastructure. The show interviews figures who are typically coalition members or coalition-adjacent. The topics track coalition concerns. The tone registers coalition evaluative habits. Readers and listeners inside the coalition experience the show as intellectual exchange. Readers and listeners outside the coalition hear it as coalition coordination, or they do not listen. The show supplies the vocabulary, the reference set, and the evaluative habits coalition members need to maintain shared orientation. The show is real intellectual exchange inside the coalition’s range of permissible positions. It is also coalition maintenance.
What truths would Bloom have to give up if his current coalition shifted? The answer is substantial. His appointment at Toronto and his ongoing affiliations with Yale depend on continued recognition by the coalition that credentials such positions. His book contracts depend on publishers who select for coalition-congenial work. His speaking invitations flow through networks the coalition controls. His podcast operates within the coalition’s broader ecosystem. If the coalition moved, or if he moved against it, the professional rewards would erode together. The coalition would direct its attention to figures who better served its current needs. His theoretical concepts would stop circulating. The specific influence he has accumulated would thin.
Bloom is unlikely to say that the coalition’s specific forms of empiricism are themselves coalition products that serve specific interests rather than neutral methods of inquiry. He cannot say that the research traditions the coalition dismisses contain intellectual resources the coalition could benefit from engaging. He cannot say that specific findings in evolutionary psychology and behavioral genetics have political implications the coalition has chosen to minimize rather than engage. He cannot say that the coalition’s victim narrative about academic conditions misrepresents the coalition’s institutional dominance. He cannot say that his own selection of topics and framings over the years has tracked coalition interests more consistently than independent inquiry would predict. He cannot fully engage with the question of whether his work’s specific success within the coalition reflects its quality or its coalition function. These are the costly truths. Writers do not tell them. Bloom does not tell them. The not-telling is not dishonesty. It is the condition under which coalition intellectual work operates.
The generational dimension is worth noting because Bloom occupies a specific generational position inside his coalition. He is senior enough to have influenced the coalition’s development but younger than Pinker and Kahneman. He came of intellectual age during the cognitive revolution’s consolidation in the 1990s and the rise of evolutionary psychology as a public-facing enterprise. His career tracks the coalition’s ascendance through the 2000s and 2010s. He now occupies the position of senior coalition member, which carries specific obligations: mentoring younger coalition members, defending the coalition against external attacks, managing the coalition’s public face. Bloom performs these obligations skillfully. The skill is part of what his coalition values in him.
Bloom’s work is better than work that is consciously produced as coalition propaganda would be. The sincerity of his engagement with the questions is part of what makes his work effective. A scholar who knew himself to be producing coalition material would produce less effective material, because the awareness would alter the work in detectable ways. Bloom’s work does not carry the marks of conscious coalition performance. It carries the marks of sincere intellectual engagement that happens to produce coalition-serving conclusions with high reliability. The framework treats this as the condition under which coalition work operates at its most effective. The sincerity is the propaganda apparatus, not a check on it.
Robin Dunbar, Leda Cosmides, and John Tooby occupy other positions inside the evolutionary psychology formation. Their work has been more methodologically committed to specific evolutionary claims than Bloom’s, with corresponding effects on their coalition positions. They have taken more direct hits from coalition critics because their claims are more falsifiable. Bloom’s specific positioning, which avoids the most controversial evolutionary claims while maintaining association with the evolutionary tradition, produces a specific form of protection against coalition-rival criticism. The positioning is strategic in the sense the framework identifies.
What makes Bloom analytically interesting beyond his specific case is that he represents a high-skill version of the type of figure the contemporary cognitive science public intellectual formation produces. The type is the senior academic at an elite school whose public writing reaches educated general audiences, whose coalition position is secure, whose specific topic selections permit broad coalition support while managing specific controversies, whose prose meets high literary standards without sacrificing academic substance, and whose career trajectory traces the coalition’s consolidation. The type is not unique to Bloom. It exists across coalitions with different specific features in each. Bloom fills the type at a high level of craft. His skill does not make him less of a coalition intellectual. It makes him a more effective one.
Paul Bloom is a serious psychologist whose work has advanced specific conversations in moral psychology, developmental psychology, and the psychology of pleasure and pain. His prose is among the best produced by his generation of academic psychologists. His intellectual generosity toward interlocutors, including those who disagree with him, is genuine within the coalition’s range of permissible disagreement. His books contain real insights that reward careful reading. None of this is diminished by noting that his work consistently serves a specific coalition, that his propagandistic biases run in the directions his coalition requires, that his specific topic selections and framings display coalition logic more than independent inquiry would produce, and that his self-presentation as careful empirical researcher operates alongside, rather than instead of, his function as coalition intellectual. The seriousness is real. The coalition function is also real. The framework insists on holding both.
The wars are real. So, possibly, is what the combatants are fighting about.
What Then Shall We Do
Bloom analyzes individual cognition with precision but brackets how institutions exploit those biases. Newsrooms, advocacy organizations, legal storytelling, political campaigns, all build machinery around the very cognitive vulnerabilities Bloom describes.
Moral judgment is usually signaling within groups. When a member of an academic department expresses outrage at a colleague’s paper, or when a journalist amplifies a particular victim’s story rather than a statistically more representative one, the behavior is shaped by what the coalition rewards, not just by what the individual feels. Bloom’s empirical findings about empathy’s biases are compatible with a sociology that treats those biases as coalition resources. The extension would ask: when is biased empathy “working correctly” from the standpoint of coalition maintenance, even when it is failing from the standpoint of accurate moral judgment?
Descartes’ Baby and Just Babies argue that core features of moral and social cognition are innate and universal. But evolutionary theory predicts not only universals but variation, as populations with different histories and selection pressures diverge in measurable ways across behavioral and psychological traits. Behavioral genetics has documented substantial heritability for political orientation, empathy, religiosity, harm aversion, and a range of moral intuitions. Bloom acknowledges modest, hardwired sex differences and occasionally engages with heritability findings in public. But the synthesis between his developmental claims and the behavioral genetics literature remains incomplete. If cognitive biases and moral intuitions are partly heritable and vary across individuals, then certain persistent social outcomes that current frameworks attribute entirely to external discrimination or systemic factors require a more complicated and pluralistic explanation.
If essentialism and in-group preference are built in, then the cosmopolitan self-image of elite institutions is a reclassification rather than a transcendence of tribal thinking. Hiring committees, editorial boards, and academic tenure decisions express the same early-emerging biases Bloom documented in six-month-olds, repackaged in the language of merit and diversity rather than naked in-group favoritism.
Bloom dissolves other people’s intuitions. He is less explicit about what grounds the intuitions guiding his preferred alternative. Why trust aggregation, cost-benefit reasoning, or statistical concern? Those reasoning styles are embedded in specific institutions, favored by specific personality types, and vulnerable to their own characteristic distortions: the bloodlessness that abstracts away morally relevant particulars, the technocratic confidence that converts contested value judgments into optimization problems, the class bias of people for whom policy levers feel real and individual suffering is data.
Bloom shows that beliefs shape enjoyment. The extension is to show how entire status hierarchies are stabilized through that process. Taste is coordinated belief about what is worth enjoying, and the coordination tracks social position. People learn to experience pleasure in the ways their coalition rewards.
If the mind develops through resistance and if meaning arises from effort and contrast, then environments that systematically remove friction should produce measurable deficits in patience, frustration tolerance, theory of mind, and moral judgment. Those predictions are testable. Longitudinal studies tracking these traits in populations with differential AI exposure would treat AI not as a philosophical risk but as a natural experiment in cognitive ecology.
Against Empathy opens by telling critics they have misunderstood the term. Bloom opposes a specific cognitive operation: feeling what another feels, taking on their perspective emotionally, letting that emotional identification guide judgment. Rational compassion, the book says, is what we want. Emotional empathy is what we should distrust. People who defend empathy, the book suggests, are defending something he is not attacking.
The move relocates the argument. The substantive dispute is about which moral sentiments should govern policy. Defenders of empathy hold that emotional identification with suffering grounds moral life, that the mother who feels her child’s pain is the template for ethics, that the cosmopolitan who calibrates distant suffering through aggregation has severed the root of morality. That is a moral argument between rival coalitions. Bloom’s reply, that his critics have misunderstood his technical term, turns it into a definitional argument. The coalition that wins the definitional fight wins the moral fight without having to make it.
The frame does three things at once.
It relocates the dispute. Moral disagreement about which sentiments should guide policy becomes definitional disagreement about what empathy means.
It relocates the deficit. The side that loses the definitional argument looks conceptually confused rather than morally rival. The religious moralist, the particularist, the nationalist, the tough-on-crime voter are not moral rivals with a different value system. They are men who have not read the studies and have conflated their terms.
It relocates the status hierarchy. The clarifier occupies the position of reason. The confused opponent occupies the position of unclear thinking. Bloom sits at the top of the hierarchy his frame creates.
This matters because the framed-as-technical dispute never resolves. Decades of Bloom’s patient clarification have not ended the defense of empathy. Religious moralists keep defending religious morality. Traditionalists keep defending traditional sacrifice. If the disputes were really misunderstandings, clarification would end them. They persist because they are coalition fights over which moral vocabulary should have public authority. The clarifier frame suppresses that recognition in its users. The persistence of the disputes, despite decades of explanation, is evidence that the frame is wrong about what the disputes are.
Against Empathy targets particular kinds of empathy. Empathy for crime victims that drives harsh sentencing. Empathy for near kin that crowds out distant suffering. Empathy for the identifiable child over the statistical many. Each target maps onto the moral intuitions of Bloom’s coalition rivals. Tough-on-crime voters. Religious particularists. Nationalists. Parents who prioritize their own children. The book delegitimizes rival moral sentiment in the vocabulary of cognitive bias while presenting as moral refinement.
David Pinsof’s argument about morality clarifies what is happening here. Moral vocabularies are coalition weapons. They cannot function as weapons while announcing that they are weapons. The nice part has to live on the surface. The mean part has to live underground. Participants in a moral coalition cannot experience their moral vocabulary as a coalition weapon, because the experience of moral seriousness is part of what makes the weapon work. Rational compassion is not nice. It is the vocabulary by which an educated, analytically trained coalition delegitimizes rival moral sentiment. It looks nice because the coalitional function has to stay hidden or the tool breaks.
The religious-grounding question is treated this way too. Bloom is openly atheist and says so in print. The books explain religious belief as a cognitive artifact of innate dualism. The register is measured rather than combative. The register does not change what is happening. Readers draw the conclusion the books imply. The argument that religious belief has natural cognitive explanation does coalition work against religious moral authority while presenting as descriptive psychology. A religious reader who objects gets told he has misunderstood, that the book describes psychology and does not adjudicate metaphysics. The misunderstanding frame lets the coalition work proceed without triggering the coalition defense that a direct attack would trigger.
The substantive arguments religious moralists make, that secular naturalist morality corrodes social trust, weakens family bonds, or fails to produce the virtues religious traditions produce, do not get engaged. Bloom engages a simpler claim, that morality requires God to exist at all, and answers it with infant helper-preference studies. That is the version of the opponent his framework can defeat. The version his framework cannot defeat goes unaddressed.
The Sweet Spot performs the same move on the question of meaning. The book argues that chosen suffering produces meaning: endurance sports, difficult art, demanding parenthood. A reader might take this as endorsement of the traditional valorization of sacrifice, duty, religious asceticism. The reader has misunderstood. Bloom means chosen suffering in the pursuit of self-authored projects. The frame rules out sacrifice for God, for nation, for a patriarchal family structure, for ancestral obligation. Self-authorship remains the coalition’s moral criterion. The book appears to engage traditional intuitions about sacrifice while gutting them.
The same pattern runs through Bloom’s podcast appearances. He presents disagreements as mutual learning. He concedes small points. He acknowledges that a critic has a fair concern. He then restates his position with a clarification that neutralizes the objection. The critic who thought he had landed a punch discovers the punch concerned a misunderstanding. The substantive disagreement remains unaddressed because the disagreement has been relocated to the definitional register where Bloom is always the patient clarifier.
Consider Bloom’s handling of Sam Harris’s critics. Harris’s critics say he harbors animus toward Islam, that his utilitarian defenses of torture reveal darker commitments, that his rationalist pose masks political preferences. Harris replies that critics misunderstand the arguments, misread the context, quote out of order. Bloom affirms the frame. Harris is misunderstood. The critics have not done the reading. Two clarifiers validate each other’s misunderstanding frame. The rival coalitions remain, by this rhetorical procedure, permanently in the position of not having understood.
The frame requires a clarifier who looks neutral. Canadian mildness, pauses, qualification, willingness to say “I could be wrong about this but,” first-person voice, small personal stories: all signal the disinterested explainer. The neutral explainer is the coalition’s most valuable kind of carrier. He appears not to be fighting the fight his vocabulary wins.
Andrew Gelman’s 2010 post on How Pleasure Works shows a related version of the frame working at the level of book reception. The subtitle promises “The New Science of Why We Like What We Like.” A Vanessa Thorpe article quotes the book as saying humans cannot get pleasure from the way something looks. Gelman finds the strong version silly and notes that a weaker version, that aesthetic response is always mediated by social context and belief, is defensible. The strong version carries the popular reception. The weak version survives scrutiny. When challenged, the weak version can be offered as what Bloom really meant. The strong version had done the work of selling the book. The frame lets the book function at two different levels of claim simultaneously.
Susan Gelman’s response to The Lure of Luxury shows the frame operating through omission rather than definitional retreat. Bloom’s essay argues that essentialist reasoning drives luxury consumption: objects touched by admired figures gain value through their histories. Susan Gelman agrees with the analysis and objects that it is incomplete. The same essentialist machinery drives negative contagion: organs from members of despised groups feel contaminated; objects touched by stigmatized populations carry their stigma. Bloom wrote the connoisseurship application of essentialism. He left the discrimination application aside. The essentialism research program is one he helped build. The selective application of the shared theory to its coalition-compatible half is a choice the theory itself does not require.
Bloom’s response to Susan Gelman thanks her for raising the dark side, says he shares the interest, cites his own work on negative contagion from admired and despised figures, and moves on. The framing of the original essay remains unchanged. The concession operates at the level of interest. The framing operates at the level of which half of the theory reaches the popular audience. Concession absorbs critique without revising the selection.
Virginia Postrel’s response to the same essay shows yet another version. Bloom offers three explanations for luxury consumption: status, aesthetic pleasure, history. He omits a fourth, which Postrel’s own work emphasizes: social meaning, identity signaling, glamour. Bloom’s choice to emphasize history, Postrel writes, “suggests the rationalist’s yearning for objectivity.” History has dates and provenance. Meaning and glamour resist the analytical method. Bloom writes the version of the phenomenon the method can process.
Four sympathetic critics, all inside the empirical cognitive science world Bloom inhabits, independently notice the selection pattern. Andrew Gelman notices it at the level of strong-claim-hiding-behind-weak-claim in How Pleasure Works. Susan Gelman notices it at the level of positive-essentialism-without-negative-essentialism in The Lure of Luxury. Postrel notices it at the level of history-without-meaning. L.A. Paul, in the Transformative Experience exchange, notices that Bloom’s empirical answers do not meet her philosophical questions. None of the four are hostile. None are outside the coalition. All describe, in their own vocabularies, the same selection.
The misunderstanding frame is the rhetorical procedure that handles these critiques without revising the pattern. The critic is thanked. The interest is shared. The framing stays as it was. The coalition-compatible half of each book remains the half that reaches the audience. The uncompatible half stays in the footnotes, the responses, the conceded-but-not-incorporated margin.
Bloom is a master practitioner of the tacit codes of his profession. He knows, without being able to state the rules, what a public intellectual in academic psychology can and cannot say. He knows which findings can be emphasized and which must be muted. He knows how to frame a politically charged claim so that the framing absorbs the charge. He knows which colleagues can be cited approvingly and which cannot. He knows what tone to strike with religious traditions, with conservative moral claims, with nationalist sentiment. He has not learned these things from explicit instruction. He has absorbed them across decades of apprenticeship, graduate school, tenure, editorial relationships, and public performance. The tacit grasp is his most valuable professional possession. It lets him move through charged terrain without triggering the protections his field maintains against its own examination.
Bloom and his fellow public-intellectual psychologists do not share a rulebook. Each has absorbed his own version of the tacit codes. Paul Bloom, Steven Pinker, Jonathan Haidt, Adam Grant, Dan Gilbert: each reads the limits differently. Each runs a slightly different calibration of where the electric fence sits. When they converge on similar positions, they converge because each has learned from overlapping training environments to sense the same dangers. It is the convergence of many individually learned survival habits on similar outputs.
Andrew Gelman’s case shows the same structure. Gelman could not name the tacit codes at Columbia because from inside them the codes do not look like codes. They look like his own judgment about what is worth saying. If you asked Bloom to specify the rules that govern what he can publish in The New Yorker, he would describe his decisions as his own editorial judgment about what makes an interesting essay. He could not list the rules because the rules operate tacitly. The rules are not the kind of thing that could be listed even by the most introspective practitioner. They exist as a set of acquired sensitivities that surface as judgments about what seems interesting, worth saying, appropriate.
Bloom writes about moral psychology. Moral psychology studies how people learn to classify, judge, and react without being able to state the rules they follow. Bloom’s research on infants shows preferences for helpers over hinderers. The preferences are tacit. Bloom extracts them through behavioral measures. His career involves articulating the tacit structure of moral cognition. Bloom’s method works on infants because infants cannot hide their tacit responses behind articulate justifications. The method works less well on adults, who cover their tacit responses with post-hoc rationalizations.
Bloom’s charisma operates tacitly. His calm, his self-deprecation, his mild manner: these are not deployed from a list of charisma techniques. He concedes the small point because his tacit grasp of the interview situation tells him that a concession here will land well. The tacit grasp is the product of thousands of prior performances in which concessions were rewarded and defensiveness punished. The charisma looks natural because it runs below the level of explicit planning. The naturalness is not natural. It is the residue of long training in a specific ecology of professional performance, most of whose rules Bloom could not state.
Bloom’s audience participates in the same tacit codes. The New Yorker reader knows, without having to be told, what counts as a thoughtful public intellectual. The TED audience knows, without explicit instruction, which register of voice signals rigor and which signals sentimentality. The podcast listener recognizes, in Bloom’s pauses and qualifications, the affect of considered thought. Bloom performs the affect without thinking through its components. The audience reads the affect without thinking through what they are reading. The communication succeeds because both parties have been trained in the same ecology of signals. Much of what transmits is tacit recognition of shared class-coded signals, and that the substantive arguments ride on top of the recognition. The reader who accepts Bloom’s position often accepts it because Bloom performs the tacit signals of a trustworthy source, not because the reader has followed the argument through its premises.
Critics of empathy from traditionalist or religious positions get read as cranks. Bloom’s same criticisms get read as sober psychology. The traditionalist critic signals the wrong codes — too passionate, too particularist, too tied to unfashionable authorities. Bloom signals the right codes. The argument survives scrutiny because the codes have already secured assent before scrutiny begins.
Bloom on a podcast admits uncertainty early. He laughs at his own prior view. He says he has changed his mind on some question over the years. A threatened academic hoards his certainties. A secure one distributes them. The audience hears the self-correction and thinks: this man pursues truth. The coalition hears it and thinks: this man holds the high ground so firmly he can concede ground on the low slopes.
Bloom’s kindly manner functions as charisma. The scholar who does not shout, does not mock, does not sneer has his critiques received as observations. A Dawkins scolds and pays for it. A Harris prosecutes and pays for it. Bloom describes and is thanked for his patience. Bloom plays the diplomat.
Consider Bloom’s handling of interviewers who push him. He does not bristle. He reframes the question. He finds a kernel of agreement. He concedes a small point. He returns to his position with the kernel folded in. The interviewer feels heard. The audience sees generosity. The position goes untouched. The charismatic man metabolizes challenges into evidence of his own openness.
Bloom writes in clean declarative sentences. He uses first person. He tells small personal stories. He admits when a study is preliminary. He says things like “I could be wrong about this, but…” The reader meets a man rather than a credential. The charismatic writer harvests trust and spends it on claims the coalition needs made.
Sam Harris speaks in clipped certainties. Bloom speaks in qualified musings. The doubter who resists Harris often surrenders to Bloom. Charisma lets the coalition extract concessions that force could not extract.
Bloom is the rigorous scientist who is also the warm humanist. Academic psychology rewards technical precision, statistical care, controlled experiments. Popular writing rewards feeling, story, moral weight. A man who writes only in the technical mode does not reach The New Yorker. A man who writes only in the humanist mode does not hold a chair at Yale. Bloom writes in both modes and lets each appearance cover the other. His popular essays reference his lab. His lab work references its humanist stakes. The paradox disappears.
Bloom is the critic of empathy who is visibly compassionate. Against Empathy risks looking cold. Bloom performs warmth throughout. He talks about his children. He expresses concern for suffering. He emphasizes that rational compassion is still compassion. The reader cannot catch him being the heartless rationalist his argument might produce in lesser hands. The paradox of the warm critic of warmth dissolves in his person.
Bloom is the secular naturalist who speaks respectfully about religion. Descartes’ Baby argues religious belief is a cognitive artifact. Bloom delivers with care. He cites religious thinkers. He acknowledges the moral weight of religious traditions. He avoids the Dawkins register. The paradox: he undermines the truth claims of religion while honoring its practitioners. The paradox is not resolved. The practitioners are still being undermined. The courtesy lets the undermining proceed without triggering coalition defense from religious rivals. The smooth performance buys the argument cover.
Bloom is the rationalist who values meaning. The Sweet Spot argues for chosen suffering as the path to meaning. Bloom writes meaning talk in rationalist prose. He cites psychology, evolution, and experiment. The paradox: rigorous argument for something rigorous argument tends to explain away. The reader gets rigor and meaning without having to choose.
Bloom is the independent thinker who never strays from coalition consensus. Bloom writes against empathy, against the blank slate, against sentimental views of childhood. Each move signals independence. Each move lands within coalition tolerance. The coalition prizes independence that confirms its priors. Pinsof’s paradox: the coalition demands that members look independent and be loyal. The smooth performer stages independence on pre-approved topics. Bloom has mastered the staging.
Bloom is the public intellectual who is also the serious scholar. Public intellectuals get dismissed by scholars as popularizers. Scholars get dismissed by the public as pedants. Bloom holds both titles. He publishes in journals. He publishes in magazines. He teaches graduate students. He writes trade books. Each role gives the other cover. The paradox runs: depth requires withdrawal from the public; reach requires simplification scholars distrust. Bloom distributes his attention so the paradox never surfaces. He never appears to be cashing scholarly chips for popular fame, even as he does. The smoothness is the charisma.
The coalition’s ideal member is the man who performs contradictions without visible strain. The strain shows up in lesser performers as defensiveness, as brittleness, as the sharp edge that appears when the paradox bites. Bloom shows no strain. The absence of strain is what makes him the valuable coalition member. He can carry loads that crack other carriers.
Start with academic psychology as a profession. The field operates on beliefs its practitioners cannot easily examine. That the replication crisis reveals something structural about the field’s epistemic practices rather than a set of sloppy labs that can be fixed. That the field’s secular liberal demographic monoculture shapes which hypotheses get formulated, funded, and published. That core constructs like empathy, bias, prejudice, and open-mindedness are folk concepts elevated to scientific status through coalition preference rather than conceptual refinement. That the research base on moral psychology runs on WEIRD samples and cannot support the universal claims drawn from it. A psychologist who pursued these questions rigorously would find his scientific identity in question.
Stephen Turner’s point about convenient beliefs is that they become visible only under pressure the institution does not normally apply. The beliefs feel obvious from inside because the institution is organized to make them feel obvious. They are not held as conclusions of inquiry. They are the conditions for being recognized as a serious inquirer in the first place. Examining them is not prohibited by rule. Examining them is what a serious researcher does not do, by the internal logic of what counts as serious research.
Bloom writes trade books grounded in the academic research base. His Substack pieces on developmental psychology and on academic monoculture show that he examines the field’s methodological and political problems. The critiques are real, some republished in the Chronicle of Higher Education. What he does not do, and what a rigorous application of his own framework would suggest doing, is examine whether the generalizations the trade books draw from the research base are supported by the base. That examination is a different kind than the replication-crisis critique. It asks whether the WEIRD-sampled, elite-university-conducted, published-in-certain-journals body of research can underwrite claims about human moral cognition generally, and whether the popular reception of those claims treats them as more robust than the research community does. The examination is available. It is not taken.
Consider the specific books.
Against Empathy rests on the belief that rational compassion and emotional empathy are separable cognitive operations that can be ranked on rigor. The separation lets the book rank them and place rational compassion higher. The ranking depends on prior moral commitments the book does not defend. Rational compassion weights distant suffering equally with near suffering. Emotional empathy weights the near over the distant. The weighting is a moral commitment. A moralist who weights near over distant is not cognitively confused. He holds a rival moral view.
Defending rational compassion as a moral commitment would require arguing that cosmopolitan universalism is morally superior to particularist loyalty. That argument has to be made on moral grounds. It has no empirical settlement. Framing the question as one of cognitive rigor rather than moral commitment lets the book skip the argument. Andrew Gelman’s 2015 exchange with L.A. Paul over transformative experience shows a version of the same move in a different domain. Paul raises the philosophical question. Bloom answers with empirical research on how parents feel after the decision. Gelman sides with Paul on the philosophical question. The empirical answer does not reach it.
Just Babies rests on the belief that showing moral intuitions in infants establishes that secular naturalist morality has the same foundations as religious morality, so the religious grounding is dispensable. The infant studies show preferences for helpers over hinderers and rudimentary fairness responses in six-month-olds. The studies are compatible with many moral systems and decisive among none. Preferences for helpers do not ground cosmopolitan universalism any more than they ground family loyalty, honor culture, or religious-tribal morality. The book’s moral payoff, secular naturalism can do the moral work religion claimed exclusively, is not supplied by the research. It is supplied by the coalition commitments of the author and his readers. The research provides the frame. The coalition provides the conclusion.
Descartes’ Baby rests on the belief that explaining religious belief as a cognitive artifact of innate dualism does not touch the truth of religious claims. In the book’s explicit framing, psychological explanation and metaphysical assessment are separate. In the book’s reception, and in the coalition reading that carries the book, the explanation does corrode the truth claim. Bloom is openly atheist. Readers draw the implication the book supports. The separation between explanation and assessment is rhetorical. The claim of neutrality lets the work proceed without triggering coalition defense from religious rivals. The work proceeds regardless.
The Sweet Spot rests on the belief that chosen suffering produces meaning and that self-authorship defines what makes the choosing legitimate. The framework rules out the forms of suffering most human cultures have treated as meaning-generating: sacrifice for God, family duty, national service, ancestral obligation, acceptance of fate. The book classifies these as unchosen and therefore less generative of meaning. This is a coalition commitment dressed as a universal finding about meaning. The research base does not contain a finding that self-authorship is the universal meaning-giving structure. The claim arrives from the coalition’s moral vocabulary and exits wearing the clothing of psychology.
The Lure of Luxury is the clearest case. Susan Gelman, one of the developers of psychological essentialism research alongside Bloom, reviewed the essay and agreed with the analysis as far as it went. Her objection was that it did not go far enough. The same essentialist machinery that makes a Kennedy watch valuable makes a donated organ from a member of a despised group feel contaminated. Positive contagion was in the essay. Negative contagion was not. Bloom’s reply conceded the interest and left the framing unchanged. Virginia Postrel’s critique pointed at a different omission. Bloom gave three explanations for luxury consumption. He left out identity and social meaning, which her own work on glamour emphasizes. Bloom’s preference for history, Postrel wrote, suggested “the rationalist’s yearning for objectivity.” History is tractable. Meaning resists the method. The book wrote the tractable half.
In all four book cases and the Boston Review exchange, the pattern is consistent. The coalition-compatible framing reaches the popular audience. The framing whose implications would trouble the coalition stays in footnotes, responses, conceded interests, and unstated elsewhere-in-the-literature. Sympathetic critics inside the empirical cognitive science world, Andrew Gelman, Susan Gelman, Postrel, L.A. Paul, independently notice the selection. The critics do not accuse Bloom of bad faith. They point at the pattern and ask for the other half.
Turner’s frame suggests why the pattern persists under critique. Convenient beliefs do not survive by being unexamined once. They survive by being held as one’s own considered positions, because the institution does not reward positions that feel institutionally produced. Bloom’s calm, his measured register, his willingness to concede small points, his first-person voice, his “I could be wrong about this but” all signal that his views have been examined and held on their merits. Turner’s point is that this signal is structurally required. The convenient belief most structurally required for a public intellectual in Bloom’s position is that his public positions are his own considered conclusions. The positions are conclusions he reached. They are also the positions his institutional location makes available for him to reach. Both can be true at once, and the framework does not require deciding between them.
Bloom’s convenient beliefs are not idiosyncratic. They are the convenient beliefs of his profession, his publishing ecosystem, his podcast network, his university, and the editorial offices that commission his essays. He did not invent them. He inherited them as part of what it means to occupy the position he occupies. A different man in a different institutional ecology would hold different convenient beliefs and would experience them, in turn, as his own considered conclusions. The point is that the position produces the positions, that the positions are compatible with the evidence without being dictated by it, and that the sympathetic-critic evidence shows the selection pattern clearly enough that an honest account of what his work does requires naming the pattern.
That is the work his framework most calls for. It is the work he cannot do from his current position without giving up the position. The essay’s claim is that the work is absent, that the absence fits a pattern visible across the books, and that the pattern can be described. The pattern is what his own discipline’s tools, turned on his own profession, would find.
Watergate as Democratic Ritual and Cultural Trauma
Bloom edits Behavioral and Brain Sciences. He sits at the symbolic center of the academic-media prestige system. His calm, his kindness, his refusal of the backlash register: these place him in the zone of sacred civic discourse. The zone grants him the right to define what counts as rational moral sentiment and what counts as bias.
Bloom generalizes constantly. Just Babies moves from baby studies to the moral foundations of humanity. Against Empathy moves from experimental findings about emotional identification to claims about how a society should feel. Descartes’ Baby moves from cognitive psychology to metaphysical religion. The Sweet Spot moves from chosen suffering to meaning. Each book takes the same upward step: specific psychological finding, then civic and moral value. The generalization pitches his coalition’s positions at the sacred register, where rivals look partisan by comparison.
Bloom’s writing sorts constantly. Rational compassion goes on the pure side. Emotional empathy goes on the impure side. The tough-on-crime voter goes on the impure side. Effective altruism spreadsheet reasoning goes on the pure side. Careful footnotes go on the pure side. Shouted conviction goes on the impure side. He does not announce the sorting. He performs it through example, tone, and selection. The sorting is the work his coalition needs done.
Bloom constructs anti-traumas. He takes what his coalition’s rivals experience as sources of moral weight — religious conviction, particularist loyalty, emotional identification with the near — and recodes them as errors. The rival’s claim to moral pain becomes, in Bloom’s hands, evidence of cognitive bias. The tough-on-crime voter’s rage at the criminal appears as an empathy miscalibration. The religious moralist’s horror at secular licentiousness appears as a cognitive artifact of innate dualism. The particularist’s love of his own people appears as a parochial limitation on rational compassion. A trauma narrative grants moral standing to its victims. An anti-trauma narrative strips moral standing from what someone else calls their pain. Bloom’s coalition gains a spokesman who can delegitimize rival pain claims in the vocabulary of science. Bloom’s work is an anti-trauma counter-narrative to the trauma narratives his rivals tell.
Bloom carries his coalition’s claims through specific institutional channels: Yale, Toronto, The New Yorker, The Atlantic, TED, Making Sense with Sam Harris, the trade book market. Each channel shapes the claim. The New Yorker essay differs from the academic paper differs from the podcast appearance. Each venue does the anti-trauma-construction work in a different key. Bloom’s career shows a carrier moving through aesthetic, pedagogical, and scientific arenas, carrying the same coalition claims in different registers.
Bloom operates across the scientific and the aesthetic. His lab work licenses his New Yorker essays. His New Yorker essays license his TED talks. His TED talks license his trade books. The scientific arena gives him the appearance of disciplined rigor. The aesthetic arena gives him reach. Each arena covers for what the other cannot do alone. The social-paradox performance that Pinsof describes looks, in Alexander’s vocabulary, like cross-arena translation. The paradox of the rigorous scientist who is also the warm humanist gets resolved by sliding between arenas with different rules.
Bloom is a psychologist who has built a career arguing that much of what we call morality is less noble than it appears, most famously in Against Empathy and The Sweet Spot. The hybrid vigor essay pushes on several of his moves.
Bloom argues that empathy is a poor moral guide because it is parochial, innumerate, and easily manipulated. He stops short of the full evolutionary deflation. The essay goes further. Human moral emotion is a debt-accounting system shaped by selection for detecting cheaters. Guilt, shame, indignation, and gratitude manage reciprocal exchange rather than evidence genuine altruism. Bloom keeps a residual commitment to reason and compassion as legitimate moral guides once empathy is set aside. The Trivers reading suggests reason and compassion are in the same evolutionary ledger as empathy, differing in sophistication rather than in kind.
The costly signaling section reframes his work on moral behavior. Bloom has written about moral circle expansion, effective altruism, and the psychology of giving. Zahavian signaling turns every public act of virtue into a handicap display establishing fitness. The billionaire who gives away half his fortune demonstrates that he can afford to. This is uncomfortable for Bloom’s framework because his case against empathy preserves the idea that reasoned beneficence is available as an alternative. Costly signaling treats reasoned beneficence as another signal in the same market.
His work on the origins of moral judgment in infants fits kin selection and Hamilton’s rule more cleanly than he usually emphasizes. His Just Babies argued for an innate moral sense visible in pre-verbal children. The essay’s kin selection framing predicts exactly that: a selection-shaped psychology that treats genetic relatedness as the primary criterion for cooperation and generates moral responses from that base. His data fits. His interpretation is more charitable to the moral sense than the underlying selection pressure warrants.
Parasite stress challenges his universalism. Bloom writes for an educated American audience and treats his conclusions as applicable across cultures. The parasite stress hypothesis suggests that in-group preference, conformity pressure, and outgroup hostility are adaptive immune responses in high-pathogen environments and that the progressive story of contact dissolving prejudice might be true in low-pathogen environments and false in high-pathogen ones. His framework does not carry this qualifier.
Life history theory pressures his chapters on class and parenting. Bloom acknowledges class differences in outcomes but tends to treat them as products of environment in the policy-intervention sense. Life history theory treats impulsivity, short-termism, high mating effort, and low parental investment as adaptive calibrations to mortality environments rather than as failures of character or cultural deficits. Interventions that treat fast life history strategies as simply wrong will fail because they address the expression rather than the calibration. Bloom’s work does not generally engage this literature.
The frequency-dependent selection section makes a quiet point against The Sweet Spot. Bloom argues that suffering and effort contribute to meaningful lives. Frequency-dependent selection suggests that cooperators and defectors stabilize at ratios that reward the cheater strategy when it is rare. The top of most professional hierarchies contains more of the cheater phenotype than his model of meaning-through-effort predicts. Meaning might be available to most people. The positions that confer status and resources select against it.
Bloom writes carefully and avoids the hardest biological readings. The essay pushes him toward them. His psychology is compatible with the selection story. His moral commitments resist the selection story carrying all the way through. That tension is the productive place for his next book.
Signal parasitism operates on Bloom’s credentials in familiar ways. The MIT PhD under Susan Carey, the Yale tenure, the Cognition papers, and the APA awards all signal rigorous cognitive science. The signals travel with him into trade books, podcasts, and public commentary on moral and political questions. The borrowing gives his moral philosophy arguments the aura of science even where the arguments are philosophical rather than empirical. The aura serves his coalition’s project of presenting secular rationalist morality as the scientific default that religious and traditional alternatives must meet. The coalition that embraces this framing does not typically demand the same empirical rigor of its own political conclusions that it demands of traditionalist opponents.
Descartes’ Baby in 2004 integrated developmental psychology with philosophy of mind to argue that infants are natural dualists. How Pleasure Works in 2010 crossed psychology with aesthetics to argue that pleasure depends on beliefs about essences. Just Babies in 2013 brought evolutionary moral psychology together with developmental data to argue that infants have rudiments of moral sense. Each book did something that purebred versions of either parent tradition could not have done alone. Developmental psychology without the philosophy produced less interesting claims. Philosophy without the developmental data had no empirical ground. The crossings produced combinatorial capacity neither pure line possessed.
Against Empathy in 2016 represents the limit case of how far the crossing could go without triggering expulsion. The argument attacked empathy as a moral guide, called it biased and innumerate, and recommended what Bloom termed rational compassion in its place. The argument drew on utilitarian philosophy the coalition treated with ambivalence, on evolutionary reasoning the coalition had partially excommunicated, and on behavioral economics the coalition tolerated without loving. It landed a direct hit on a central vocabulary item of progressive moral discourse. Empathy had been built into the coalition’s self-description for two generations. Bloom said it was the pathology, not the remedy.
The immune response this might have triggered did not trigger, or triggered only weakly, for reasons the biology illuminates. The crossing produced a hybrid that looked compatible with coalition premises at the surface. Rational compassion could be read as an upgrade of empathy rather than as an attack on it. A coalition member could agree with Bloom without feeling she had betrayed the coalition. The book’s argument was sharper than its reception suggested, but the framing had been engineered for coalition survival. This was adaptive countershading at the intellectual level. The surface did not trip the detection system. The content underneath did the work the countershading concealed.
His countershading differs from Baker’s in an instructive way. Baker paints the surface flat to appear agenda-less. Bloom does the opposite. He states positions, takes arguments where they lead, answers critics directly. What he countershades is the coalition-threat signal. He criticizes particular coalition pieties in language calibrated to sound like coalition-internal self-correction rather than foreign attack. A progressive reader could finish Against Empathy believing Bloom had strengthened her worldview by correcting a local error. A conservative reader could finish the same book believing Bloom had exposed the coalition’s moral confusion. Both readings had textual support. The book countershaded not on position but on coalition affiliation, and both populations could classify Bloom as the organism they wanted him to be.
Horizontal gene transfer fits Bloom’s method. He imports developmental psychology’s experimental rigor into moral philosophy. The apparatus was built to track how children form concepts, acquire language, and develop theory of mind. The tools retain their shape when moved into moral philosophy. The host environment changes what the tools can show. Developmental experiments with infants can measure preferences for helpers over hinderers. They cannot settle which moral framework adults should adopt. Bloom is careful about the gap in his academic work. In his trade books the gap narrows. Readers take the empirical results as settling normative questions the results cannot settle. The method migrates and carries authority into a domain where its authority does not fully apply.
Phenotypic plasticity shows across his venues. In Cognition and Psychological Science he publishes experimental papers with standard disciplinary conventions. In his trade books he writes in the conversational register of American popular psychology. On his Substack Small Potatoes he writes shorter pieces with more personal voice. On the Psych Podcast he performs the role of interested professor in dialogue with guests. On Twitter and in media appearances he calibrates tone for the specific audience. Same man, different phenotypes shaped by venue. The phenotypes are mutually reinforcing. The trade books cite the academic work. The podcast promotes the trade books. The Substack sustains the broader public engagement between books.
Exaptation describes what he does with developmental psychology’s findings. The research program emerged to answer questions about how children acquire cognitive structure. The questions had clear scientific motivations. Bloom repurposes the findings to address philosophical and political debates about moral reasoning in adults. The infant morality work, which he popularized as evidence that humans have innate moral intuitions, gets deployed against cultural-relativist accounts of morality. The move serves a specific coalition project, the defense of universal human nature against postmodern constructivism. The original research aimed at developmental mechanisms. The deployed research serves philosophical warfare against rival schools. The trait evolved for one function and gets used for another.
Exaptation also fits his use of rationalist moral philosophy. The Peter Singer-Derek Parfit-Peter Unger tradition of utilitarian moral reasoning developed within analytic philosophy departments with specific training, assumptions, and argument conventions. Bloom borrows the conclusions without the argumentative infrastructure. Against Empathy presents rational compassion as the alternative to empathy without engaging the deep arguments within moral philosophy about whether utilitarian calculation can work as a decision procedure for humans embedded in specific communities. The conclusions travel. The dialectical context that gave the conclusions their meaning does not.
The niche Bloom constructed rewards this crypsis strategy. The public intellectual psychologist niche requires institutional backing, popular readability, contrarian edge, and coalition-compatibility calibrated finely enough to extend across audiences. The niche did not exist in its current form when Bloom began his career. Steven Pinker at Harvard, Jonathan Haidt at NYU, Dan Gilbert at Harvard, Dan Ariely at Duke, and a handful of others constructed it across the two decades following the late 1990s. Bloom occupies a sub-niche within it, distinguishable from the others by his specific calibration of contrarianism and coalition-compatibility. Pinker ran further from the coalition and took more immune-response damage. Bloom ran less far and took less damage.
The endosymbiotic relationship Bloom has with the publishing and media ecosystem deepens this. He needs the publishers, podcast networks, and magazine outlets for distribution. They need him for credible intellectual product that carries the stamp of empirical science while remaining accessible to general audiences. The relationship has co-evolved over decades into something neither party can easily exit. A publisher that could not place Bloom’s books on its list would lose a significant genre. Bloom could produce his work without the publishers only at reduced reach and reduced coalition-membership signal. Each party’s dependency on the other shapes what Bloom produces and what the publishers publish, though the shaping operates through selection rather than through explicit direction.
Bloom operates a mixed life history strategy. The academic side runs pure slow life history: tenure, long book projects, doctoral supervision, journal publication. The public intellectual side runs faster: podcast episodes, Substack posts, interviews, book-tour appearances. He sustains both because the slow side provides the institutional substrate that makes the fast side credible, and the fast side provides the audience and income that make the slow side financially viable in the current academic environment. Neither side alone would sustain the career. Together they produce a combined strategy that matches the current ecosystem’s rewards better than either pure strategy would.
Psych in 2023 is the fullest expression of the mixed strategy. The book is his Yale introductory course rendered for general readers, and it fuses the two sides of his career into a single artifact rather than keeping them in separate channels. A textbook runs on slow life history time: committee-approved, citation-dense, written to survive adoption cycles across hundreds of syllabi. A trade psychology book runs on fast life history time: narrative-driven, personality-forward, calibrated to bookstore display tables and podcast appearances. Psych does both. It teaches the material a semester covers while sounding like a man talking to you. Academic reviewers treated it as a credible introduction to the field. Trade reviewers treated it as a readable book by a recognizable author. Adoption in intro courses proceeded alongside general-audience sales. Neither market forced the book into its own idiom. The artifact survives in both because Bloom built it to survive in both, and he could build it because he had spent twenty years running the two life history strategies in parallel until each developed the traits the fused product needed. Peers who ran only one track produced either textbooks no general reader picked up or trade books no department adopted.
The comparison with Mickey Kaus sharpens the framework’s point. Kaus crossed for intellectual vigor and refused the countershading that might have preserved his institutional standing. Bloom crossed for intellectual vigor and developed sophisticated countershading that protected his standing while allowing the crossing to continue. Neither man was more honest than the other in any morally relevant sense. Both believed their arguments. Both produced work with genuine hybrid vigor. The difference lay in how they handled the coalition’s detection systems. Kaus walked through the detection grid in visible form and accepted the consequences. Bloom learned to move through it in a way the detection system could not reliably classify as threat. The biology does not rank these strategies as better or worse. It observes that they produce different fitness outcomes under the selection pressures each man faced.
The conditions that allowed Bloom’s strategy to work are specific and temporary. The crossings Bloom performed were across disciplines, not across the coalition’s most heavily guarded political topics. He criticized empathy, not affirmative action. He brought in evolutionary psychology, not sociobiology applied to group differences. He took on moral philosophy, not the moral status of specific coalition alliances. The countershading works better on adjacent topics than on central ones. Whether the niche remains viable for the next generation of heterodox academic psychologists remains an empirical question the framework keeps open.
‘E Pluribus Unum: Diversity and Community in the Twenty-first Century’
Against Empathy builds on the empirical literature showing that empathic concern is biased toward in-group members, attractive individuals, identifiable victims, and people who resemble the empathizer. Bloom treats these biases as reasons to replace empathic moral reasoning with rational compassion that weighs distant and unattractive beneficiaries equally with near ones. Putnam’s data suggest the argument carries costs the book does not develop. The in-group bias Bloom treats as a bug is what Putnam measures as social capital. Thick trust, civic engagement, and communal solidarity all depend on preferential attention to nearby others. A society that successfully shifted from empathic to rational compassion would be a society with less of what Putnam measures. The empathic bias toward the near is the engine of the civic substrate that makes societies work. Rationalizing moral attention toward distant strangers may produce better global utilitarian outcomes. It may also dissolve the local trust that allowed utilitarian calculation to matter in the first place.
Putnam’s framework sharpens the analysis of Bloom’s Haidt disagreement. Jonathan Haidt’s moral foundations theory argues that human morality rests on multiple foundations, including care, fairness, loyalty, authority, and sanctity, with liberals emphasizing the first two and conservatives drawing on all five. Bloom has pushed back against this framework, preferring an account that treats care and fairness as more fundamental and the other foundations as contingent elaborations. Putnam’s data favor Haidt’s reading for specific purposes. The loyalty, authority, and sanctity foundations all address in-group cohesion, the legitimacy of traditional structures, and the bounded communities that produce social capital. Putnam measures the outputs these foundations support. Societies that honor loyalty, authority, and sanctity produce more of the social capital Putnam documents than societies that treat these as atavistic leftovers. Bloom’s narrower moral framework fits a liberal universalist coalition that treats social capital as either a given or an inconvenience. Haidt’s broader framework fits the civic conditions Putnam’s data describe. The Bloom-Haidt dispute is not only an empirical-psychological dispute. It is also a coalition dispute about which moral vocabulary suits the conditions the country lives in.
Bloom’s treatment of empathy merits one further note through the frames. He distinguishes emotional empathy, which feels what another feels, from cognitive empathy or perspective-taking. He argues the first is biased and the second is morally useful. The distinction is real and defensible. Putnam’s data suggest a caveat the book does not develop. Emotional empathy is what creates the neighborhood watch, the church casserole for the bereaved family, the volunteer coach, and the local civic association. Cognitive empathy without emotional engagement produces the remote technocrat who understands the distant problem intellectually and does nothing about the neighbor in need. Rational compassion, if practiced at scale, might produce a cohort of morally articulate people who rarely help anyone within walking distance. The civic erosion Putnam measures partly reflects exactly this pattern. Educated professionals report high concern about distant suffering and low engagement with local civic life. Bloom’s preferred moral framework systematizes this pattern and defends it as the mature option. Putnam’s data suggest the pattern is not mature. It is symptomatic of the civic substrate’s thinning.
The Sweet Spot addresses why people choose painful experiences. The book examines marathons, horror movies, spicy food, and other voluntary suffering. The frame fits Putnam’s data in an interesting way. Many of the voluntary sufferings that once gave lives meaning were embedded in communal life: religious fasting with a congregation, physical labor alongside neighbors, military service with a unit, childbirth attended by family and community. The meaning came from the shared context as much as from the suffering itself. Bloom’s examples are mostly individual or small-group. The atomized voluntary suffering of the marathon runner or the horror-movie viewer substitutes for the communal suffering the receding civic infrastructure no longer provides. The book does not name this substitution. Putnam’s framework would. The question of why contemporary people need to manufacture voluntary pain receives part of its answer from the civic decline Putnam documents. The meaning communities once provided through shared ordeal has thinned enough that individuals now seek the ordeal without the community.
Psych offers the general-audience survey of his discipline. The book presents psychology as Bloom’s tribe understands it: experimental, cumulative, broadly replicable after the replication crisis corrections, morally progressive in its implications. The presentation reflects coalition norms about what counts as legitimate psychology. Behavioral genetics gets cautious treatment. Group differences receive the minimum attention the field’s coalition permits. Religious psychology appears mostly as a topic to explain away rather than engage. Traditional moral frameworks appear as objects of study rather than as candidates for truth. The presentation is not dishonest. It reflects the norms of the coalition Bloom belongs to. The norms filter what counts as included in the textbook survey. A psychology textbook produced by a different coalition would emphasize different findings, frame the replication crisis differently, and treat different topics as central. Bloom’s version is the version his tribe produces and the tribe it serves accepts.
One final point the frames make visible. Bloom’s public persona is unusually genial for his coalition. He engages critics charitably, admits uncertainty, and avoids the sharper polemics of his tribe. The persona is a real feature of the man and also a coalition asset. It positions him as the reasonable rationalist voice that skeptics from other tribes can engage without feeling attacked. The positioning serves the coalition’s persuasion project better than sharper rhetoric would. Putnam’s framework helps locate why the persona matters. In a low-trust, fragmented society, charismatic moderates who cross coalition lines carry more weight than partisan advocates. Bloom occupies that niche for his tribe. The niche is valuable precisely because the civic substrate for cross-coalition persuasion has thinned. Charitable engagement becomes scarce and thus prized. The frames predict the niche will become harder to occupy as the civic conditions continue to erode. Younger scholars in Bloom’s coalition have more trouble sustaining his tone. The conditions for his kind of public intellectual work are themselves a product of the civic substrate whose decline his coalition’s broader positions have not reversed.
Paul Bloom’s hero system is rational compassion as moral progress, defended by the cognitive scientist who strips away sentimental illusion and explains the mind to the educated public.
The cosmology. The mind is comprehensible through experiment. Babies arrive with innate moral equipment, so morality is not a social construction all the way down. Adults nevertheless get confused by feeling, and most moral errors trace to empathy doing work reason should do. Religion is false. The afterlife is false. Meaning comes from pleasure, struggle, and the small satisfactions of family, craft, and honest inquiry. The Enlightenment project, properly pursued, yields a better morality than the sentimental piety of either pulpit or progressive activism. Science is cumulative. Psychology, at its best, tells us true things about human nature, and those things liberate us from the folk theories that mislead us.
The hero role is the cognitive scientist as public sage. Not the activist, who subordinates findings to conclusions. Not the clinician, who treats symptoms rather than asking how minds work. Not the philosopher, who proceeds from armchair intuition without running the experiment. The hero runs the experiment, writes the book for the smart lay reader, teaches the large lecture class, and keeps his tone civil while saying things that make empathic liberals uncomfortable. He descends from William James, Gordon Allport, Daniel Kahneman, and, most proximately, Steven Pinker. He models a voice: reasonable, warm, willing to offend when the evidence demands it, unwilling to be drafted into either the culture-war right or the activist left.
Symbolic immortality comes through four channels. Experimental findings in the Yale Infant Cognition Center that enter textbooks and shape how the next generation of psychologists thinks about moral development. Trade books that teach educated readers how minds work: Descartes’ Baby, How Pleasure Works, Just Babies, Against Empathy, The Sweet Spot, Psych. The Open Yale Intro Psych course that reaches millions who never set foot in New Haven. The Substack, Small Potatoes, which accumulates subscribers and extends the teaching relationship indefinitely. Each channel places Bloom inside a lineage of psychological popularizers whose names survive because they explained something real to people who wanted to understand themselves.
The damned in Becker’s sense are the empathic moralists who let sentiment override evidence, the religious believers who mistake revelation for knowledge, the postmodernists who deny cognitive science can access truth, the activist academics on either flank who sacrifice findings to politics, and the empathy-driven humanitarians whose caring impulses produce worse outcomes than cooler utilitarian calculation might. A subtler class of the damned: the ideologues inside his own liberal coalition who refuse to acknowledge inconvenient findings about infant morality, sex differences, or the limits of social engineering. Bloom positions himself as willing to notice what his coalition denies, but without ever crossing into the Pinker-style culture-warrior posture that costs reputational capital on the left.
The rituals of election. Yale tenure, two decades. A named chair. The Jacobs Prize. Presidency of the Society for Philosophy and Psychology. Co-editorship of Behavioral and Brain Sciences. Open Yale Course selection. Trade-book blurbs from Pinker, Daniel Gilbert, and Laurie Santos. Appearances on NPR and Conversations with Tyler. Aspen Ideas Festival slots. A United Nations Women’s International Forum lecture on Against Empathy. The Substack’s growth. Each token signals that Bloom has been chosen by the coalition of educated rationalist readers who decide which psychologists matter.
The work gives Bloom’s life its meaning. A man who professes no afterlife must locate his significance somewhere inside the world, and Bloom locates his in the teaching relationship. The Intro Psych course, the books, the Substack essays, the graduate students: these extend his presence past his death. They carry his voice into conversations he will never hear. That is as close to immortality as his cosmology allows, and his cosmology does not allow any closer approximation. The work therefore has to carry more weight than a religious believer’s work has to carry. It is not a rehearsal for the next life. It is the whole of the symbolic life.
The vulnerabilities are four. The replication crisis, which damaged the moral-intuition and priming literatures and which forces a careful psychologist to acknowledge that some of the findings his public persona rests on might not hold. The possibility that rational compassion is itself a sentimental posture, coalition-coded to educated liberal rationalists, that simply redistributes empathy rather than replaces it. The possibility that the civil, reasonable, avuncular public-intellectual voice is a late-Enlightenment niche closing as attention fragments and as both populist right and activist left treat such voices as compromised by their refusal to pick a side. And the possibility that pleasure, meaning, and rational compassion cannot finally bear the weight a godless cosmology asks them to bear, that the Bloom hero system underestimates how much of human flourishing rests on transcendent commitments his rationalism cannot supply.
These vulnerabilities do not destabilize him in the short run. The Substack grows, the books sell, the students apply. But they mark the edges of the territory the hero system can hold. What Bloom cannot write, inside his frame, is a convincing account of moral courage under persecution, religious vocation, or the kinds of meaning that come from obedience to something larger than one’s own considered preferences. He can study such things from outside. He cannot narrate them from inside. That is the cost of the particular hero role he has taken up, and the reason his work, for all its clarity, leaves some readers feeling it has explained the furniture of the mind without quite explaining why the house was built.
David Pinsof’s essay argues that morality is a weapon. It did not evolve to make people cooperate. It evolved to let coalitions dominate rivals while denying that domination was the point. The nice part lives on the surface. The mean part lives underground. Status goals have to be pursued covertly, because admitting them defeats them. Starbucks does not sell coffee by saying it sells coffee for profit. Morality does not work as a coalition weapon by announcing itself as a coalition weapon.
Bloom’s entire moral vocabulary, rational compassion included, is a coalition weapon whose function requires that its weapon-nature stay hidden. Rational compassion is not nice. It is the vocabulary by which Bloom’s coalition delegitimizes rival moral sentiment. It looks nice because the mean part has to stay underground or the tool breaks.
Against Empathy performs a moral attack while presenting as moral refinement. The attack targets particular kinds of empathy: empathy for crime victims that drives harsher sentencing, empathy for near kin that crowds out distant suffering, empathy for the identifiable child over the statistical many. Each target maps onto the moral intuitions of Bloom’s coalition rivals. Tough-on-crime voters. Religious particularists. Nationalists. Parents who prioritize their own children.
The book delegitimizes rival moral sentiment in the vocabulary of science. It does not say “your moral coalition is my rival and I want to dominate it.” It says “your cognitive bias leads to worse aggregate outcomes.” The second framing is required for the tool to work. Pinsof’s argument is that this is how morality always works. The mean part cannot come to the surface without destroying the weapon.
Bloom participates in a coalition-level moral tool whose function is domination of rival coalitions, and whose operation requires that participants not experience it as domination.
Bloom’s vocabulary is a coalition weapon, and the weapon is part of a weapons system that produces relative peace. Rational compassion, empathy criticism, essentialism critique, all of these are tools in a larger moral armament that keeps coalitions in check by threatening mobilization. The cultural war is the peace. Bloom is a combatant, and the combat is why nobody gets massacred.
Bloom Under Hugo Mercier and John M. Doris
Bloom sits in a rare position for a subject of Mercier-Doris analysis. Unlike most figures examined in previous essays, Bloom is working within the same broad intellectual tradition that produced Mercier’s own work and that Doris draws from. Bloom is an evolutionary-developmental cognitive psychologist whose conclusions about moral cognition and human nature overlap substantially with what Mercier and Doris have argued. The Mercier-Doris application here is not primarily a critique of a framework that runs against the evidence. It is more an assessment of how Bloom’s specific project within the shared evidentiary base has operated, where it has succeeded, where it has fallen short, and what the integrated framework predicts about his career trajectory.
Take Against Empathy first, which is the book that made Bloom widely known beyond academic psychology. The book argues that empathy, understood as feeling what others feel, is a poor guide to moral decision-making. Empathy is biased toward the near and similar, susceptible to manipulation by vivid particulars at the expense of statistical realities, and systematically produces bad moral judgments when deployed in place of more deliberate moral reasoning. Bloom argues for what he calls rational compassion, a concern for others’ well-being that can be deployed more consistently than empathic identification.
The argument is substantially correct about the specific empirical claims Bloom makes. Empathy does have the biases he documents. The experimental and observational evidence supports his claims about how empathy operates in moral decision-making. Bloom has done the careful scholarly work of reviewing the evidence and drawing appropriate conclusions.
Mercier’s framework adds a specific observation about what the book does and does not accomplish. Bloom’s argument is aimed at how readers think about moral judgment and decision-making. The book assumes that readers who come to understand empathy’s limitations will update their moral reasoning and decision-making accordingly. This is the standard assumption of the rationalist literature on improving moral judgment: present the evidence, show where intuitions mislead, and readers will adjust.
Mercier’s framework suggests this assumption overestimates what such arguments can accomplish. Readers who come to Bloom’s book already hold positions on empathy and moral reasoning that are shaped by their situations and coalition commitments. Those with analytical commitments and stakes in critiques of emotional reasoning find Bloom’s arguments congenial and absorb them into existing frameworks. Those whose commitments are to empathy-centered moral and political positions encounter the arguments as threats to coalition positions and either resist them or absorb them reflectively without updating operational commitments. The book has been influential within specific intellectual communities and has largely failed to penetrate communities whose commitments run the other way.
More importantly for Doris, the book’s behavioral implications have not materialized in the ways its arguments would suggest. Readers who accept Bloom’s critique of empathy do not thereby become more effective moral reasoners or decision-makers. Their moral and political behavior continues to track their situational features, coalition affiliations, and material interests. The acceptance of the critique is reflective belief. The behavior is situational. Bloom has produced sophisticated arguments for specific empirical and conceptual claims. Whether those arguments can alter how readers reason and behave depends on factors the arguments do not address.
Bloom himself has gestured at this in various discussions of his work. He has acknowledged that changing moral reasoning is difficult, that readers often come to his work with commitments that make genuine updating unlikely, and that the practical implications of his arguments for how we should organize moral and political life are not straightforward. The acknowledgments suggest he understands some of what Mercier and Doris specify. The understanding has not fully shaped how the work is framed, because the framing still positions the arguments as capable of improving readers’ moral reasoning in ways the cognitive and behavioral evidence suggests they cannot.
Take The Sweet Spot next, which engages the puzzle of why humans voluntarily seek out experiences that involve suffering: horror movies, endurance sports, difficult art, challenging relationships, child-rearing, morally demanding work. Bloom argues that suffering that is chosen, meaningful, and bounded can contribute to lives that are rich and satisfying in ways that lives of pure pleasure cannot be. The book engages philosophical questions about the good life while drawing on psychological research on motivation, meaning, and well-being.
The book is a good example of what academic psychology can contribute to public understanding of human nature when it operates within appropriate epistemic limits. Bloom reviews the evidence, draws conclusions that are defensible given the evidence, and presents his arguments with appropriate acknowledgments of uncertainty. The book is not trying to derive strong normative conclusions from weak evidence. It is trying to help readers think more carefully about the relationship between suffering and meaning in their own lives.
The Mercier-Doris framework produces a specific reading of what the book accomplishes. Readers who approach the book with stakes in questions about their own well-being, their own life choices, their own relationships to suffering and pleasure, can engage the book with genuine vigilance. The stakes are personal and operational. The reader who is deciding whether to pursue a demanding career, whether to have children, whether to engage with difficult art, has real operational stakes in the questions Bloom discusses. For these readers, the book can contribute to decisions that reflect serious engagement with the evidence.
Readers without personal stakes in the specific questions engage the book differently. The book has entertainment value, intellectual interest, and provides vocabulary for discussions that readers will have with friends and colleagues. It does not shape their behavior because their behavior is produced by their situations rather than by their views on the relationship between suffering and meaning. A reader who lives a comfortable suburban life continues to live that life after reading the book. The book has given him interesting framings to apply to occasional reflective moments, but the situations that produce his life continue unchanged.
This pattern is not a failure of the book. It is the standard condition of what trade books in psychology can accomplish. Bloom’s book is honest about what it is trying to do, which is contribute to readers’ thinking about questions they already care about. The book succeeds at this goal for readers whose stakes permit the engagement. The framework’s observation is not a critique of the book but an accurate specification of its scope.
Take Bloom’s broader pattern of public engagement. He has been one of the more visible academic psychologists in recent years, with a substantial presence on podcasts, a popular Substack, and consistent engagement with contemporary cultural and political questions from a psychological perspective. He has taken positions on various questions that place him somewhat awkwardly within academic psychology, particularly his willingness to engage seriously with ideological and political critiques of his field, his skepticism about various ideologically motivated research programs, and his willingness to criticize specific trends in academic discourse.
Mercier’s framework notes that Bloom’s willingness to take positions that impose some coalition cost within academic psychology is valuable. A scholar whose conclusions can be predicted from his institutional affiliation produces less useful work than a scholar whose conclusions reflect his own engagement with the material. Bloom has demonstrated intellectual independence on questions where the safer professional move would be silence or conformity. This has made him more useful to audiences who want to think about psychological questions independently of professional orthodoxy.
The framework also notes that Bloom’s situation has permitted this independence. He has had the security of tenure at Yale for most of his career, substantial publishing success, a broad audience that does not depend on narrow academic approval, and more recently the additional security that comes with professional recognition. The situation has allowed him to take positions that less secure scholars would find too costly. The independence is real, and the framework credits it, while noting that it is the output of a specific career situation that has made it possible.
Bloom’s engagement with questions of moral development in children is worth examining because it represents his most substantial scholarly contribution. Work from his Yale lab with Karen Wynn on moral cognition in infants has shaped how developmental psychology thinks about the origins of moral judgment. The finding that very young children show preferences for helpful over harmful actors, that they track fairness and deservingness in their evaluations of others, has been genuinely influential. The work has been replicated, extended, and occasionally contested, but its core findings have held up and have shaped subsequent research.
The Mercier-Doris framework produces a specific reading of what this work has contributed and what it has not. The work has contributed substantially to academic understanding of moral development. It has established empirical findings that subsequent researchers build on. It has trained generations of graduate students who have produced their own substantial work. These are real contributions to academic psychology.
The work has contributed less to practical understanding of how moral behavior is produced in adults making moral decisions. The findings about infant moral cognition establish that moral evaluation has deep cognitive roots, but they do not explain how those cognitive roots relate to the moral behavior of adults in specific situations. The gap between moral cognition and moral behavior is precisely what Doris’s situationism addresses, and the work from Bloom’s lab does not substantially engage that gap. The work tells us that humans have evolved cognitive equipment that does moral evaluation. It does not tell us why adults with that equipment so often behave in ways that violate their own moral evaluations when the situations produce the violating behaviors.
Bloom’s more recent writing has increasingly engaged questions at the intersection of psychology and contemporary political and cultural debates. His Substack essays, his podcast conversations with figures across the political spectrum, and his occasional magazine pieces have addressed questions about identity, meaning, progress, and the specific controversies within academic and public life. The writing has been substantive and has contributed to ongoing discussions in ways that most academic psychological work does not.
Mercier’s framework produces a specific observation about this writing. Bloom is working at the edge of what academic psychology can legitimately say about questions the public cares about. The expertise he brings is genuine but specific. His training gives him authority on questions about cognitive and developmental psychology, moral judgment, and the experimental and observational evidence in his field. His training does not give him special authority on broader questions about how to organize society, what political arrangements are just, or how cultural conflicts should be resolved.
Bloom is generally careful about this. His public engagement tends to stay close to psychological evidence and to acknowledge the limits of what psychology can contribute to political questions. He is less prone to the overreach that characterizes some prominent academic psychologists who use their credentials to speak authoritatively on questions their training does not address.
The restraint also has a situational explanation. Bloom’s audience includes people across political lines, and his career has not been built on taking strongly partisan positions. His Substack and podcast appearances reach audiences that would not read narrowly partisan academic writing. Maintaining this broad audience requires staying within the expertise his training supports and avoiding the kind of overreach that would alienate parts of the audience. The situation rewards the restraint. A Bloom placed in a different situation, perhaps with tenure at a more ideologically homogeneous institution or writing for a more narrowly partisan audience, might have produced different work. The specific Bloom we have is the output of a situation that has rewarded careful engagement with broad audiences rather than stronger positioning within narrower audiences.
Take Bloom’s move from Yale to Toronto. He has written about this move in ways that acknowledge dissatisfaction with aspects of contemporary academic life at elite American universities. The move suggests that his situation at Yale had become sufficiently constraining that the move was worth the substantial disruption. Other academics have made similar moves in recent years, often citing ideological pressures and the narrowing of acceptable positions within American academia.
The Mercier-Doris framework produces a specific reading of these situational shifts. Academic institutions have situations that reward specific kinds of contributions and impose costs on others. When the situational costs for the kind of work a scholar wants to do become too high, the scholar either adapts the work to the situation or changes situations. Bloom appears to have chosen the latter. The change of situations is a rational response to changed incentives. It does not require ascribing particular virtues or vices to Bloom or to Yale. It is the kind of adjustment that scholars make when their productive capacities and the institutional rewards diverge.
What the move does illustrate is that the situations within which academic psychology is produced are themselves variable and contested. Different institutions offer different situations. Scholars have some ability to sort themselves among institutions based on what the institutions will reward. The resulting distribution of scholars across institutions reflects ongoing negotiations between individual researchers and institutional rewards. Bloom’s move is one data point in a larger pattern of such negotiations.
Bloom’s overall career trajectory is worth comparing to the previous subjects. Unlike Balkin, Levinson, Dworkin, and Rawls, Bloom is not building a theoretical architecture that requires specific cognitive or behavioral assumptions the evidence does not support. His work operates within the evidence-based cognitive and developmental psychology tradition that Mercier’s work also comes from. The framework does not have major quarrels with Bloom’s central claims. It specifies what those claims can and cannot do, which is an elaboration of what the evidence supports rather than a critique of the framework.
The work’s limitations are more modest than the limitations of the theoretical projects examined in previous essays. Bloom’s specific claims are largely correct. His restraint about their implications is appropriate. His public engagement is responsible. The gap between what the work accomplishes and what careful readers want the work to accomplish is smaller than the analogous gap for more ambitious theoretical projects. Bloom has generally not promised what he cannot deliver.
What he has occasionally promised, implicitly through the framing of his trade books and his public engagement, is that careful reading of the psychological evidence can help readers make better moral and practical decisions. The Mercier-Doris framework is somewhat more skeptical than Bloom’s framings sometimes suggest. Careful reading can help readers think more precisely about their situations and choices. It cannot reliably alter the situations that produce most of their behavior. Readers who absorb Bloom’s arguments continue to live lives produced by their situations, with the arguments providing better vocabulary for reflective moments but not substantially altering the behavioral trajectories. Bloom generally does not claim stronger effects than this, but his trade books are often framed in ways that invite readers to hope for stronger effects than the evidence supports.
Take Bloom’s specific intellectual virtues as the framework identifies them. He is willing to engage evidence that does not fit his prior commitments. His work on disgust and moral judgment has treated conservative moral positions seriously rather than dismissing them as irrational. His work on empathy has criticized a tendency central to the political and intellectual community he operates within. His writing on various contested questions has avoided the temptation to produce work that flatters his expected audience. These are real virtues, and they are rarer than they should be in contemporary academic psychology.
The framework credits these virtues specifically. A scholar who tests his positions against evidence that might revise them is doing the cognitive work that vigilance requires. Bloom has done this consistently across a long career. The consistency produces work that is more reliable than work from scholars whose conclusions track their commitments without serious engagement with contrary evidence. Bloom’s work will hold up better than work from less intellectually independent scholars, not because Bloom has any special access to truth but because his cognitive operations have been less shaped by coalition commitments than the operations of scholars whose work was built on those commitments.
Take Bloom’s specific contribution to the discussion of how psychology relates to politics and moral philosophy. He has written explicitly about the limits of what psychology can tell us about how to organize society. He has been skeptical of moves that derive strong normative conclusions from psychological research. He has acknowledged that the psychology of moral judgment is compatible with many different normative positions, and that specific normative conclusions require arguments beyond what psychology can provide.
The Mercier-Doris framework endorses this restraint strongly. One of the failures of prominent academic psychology in recent decades has been the tendency to present psychological findings as having specific normative implications that the findings do not support. Jonathan Haidt’s moral foundations theory, for example, has been deployed to support normative positions that the empirical theory does not entail. Robert Sapolsky’s work has been presented with stronger determinist implications than his evidence supports. The general move of using psychological research to claim authority on questions beyond what psychology can address has been common and has damaged public trust in the field.
Bloom has generally avoided this move. His restraint is not a small achievement. It has cost him some potential influence. Scholars who are willing to make stronger claims than their evidence supports often achieve broader public influence in the short term. Bloom’s more careful engagement has built a different kind of reputation, one that holds up better over time as the more aggressive claims come to be seen as overreach. The framework credits this trajectory specifically because it rewards the kind of cognitive virtue the framework identifies as valuable.
Bloom’s career has been successful within the terms the framework specifies as available. He has produced substantial scholarly work that will hold up in his field. He has written accessible trade books that have contributed to public understanding of psychological questions without promising more than the evidence supports. He has maintained intellectual independence within an increasingly ideologically constrained professional environment. He has taken on public engagement responsibilities that most academics decline. The career has been built on doing work that is genuinely good rather than on positioning himself within the coalition dynamics that often shape academic careers more than the quality of work does.
What Bloom has not done is build a grand theoretical framework that organizes the field around his specific claims. He has not produced the equivalent of Dworkin’s or Rawls’s architecture. This is a reasonable choice given what the framework suggests such architectures can accomplish. The frameworks tend to overreach in specific ways that the cognitive and behavioral evidence does not support, and the overreach eventually becomes visible even as the frameworks persist in institutional settings that reward them. Bloom’s more modest contributions will age better than the more ambitious theoretical projects, even if they achieve less institutional influence in the short term.
The integrated Mercier-Doris framework produces a mostly positive assessment of Bloom’s work and career. The work operates within the broad tradition of cognitive and developmental psychology that the framework endorses. The specific claims are largely defensible given the evidence. The public engagement has been responsible. The career has reflected genuine intellectual virtues. The move from Yale to Toronto reflects rational response to shifting institutional situations rather than failure or decline.
The critical observations are more subtle than the critiques of the previous subjects. Bloom occasionally frames his trade books in ways that invite readers to expect stronger effects on their own reasoning and behavior than the evidence supports. His lab’s work on infant moral cognition, while substantial, engages the cognitive half of moral life more than the situational half. His public engagement, while responsible, inherits some of the framings of the academic psychology tradition that the Mercier-Doris framework refines. These are minor limitations rather than major failures. The work is better than most contemporary academic psychology precisely because Bloom has been more intellectually honest than most of his peers about what the evidence supports.
A specific comparison worth making is between Bloom’s trajectory and the trajectory of other prominent academic psychologists of his generation. Sapolsky has produced popular work that overreaches in deterministic directions his evidence does not support. Haidt has built an academic and public career on normative conclusions the empirical work does not entail. Steven Pinker has made strong claims about historical progress that go beyond what the evidence supports. Jordan Peterson has moved from academic psychology into public intellectual work that has lost most of its connection to the evidence his training required.
Bloom has avoided these traps. His public work stays closer to the evidence. His trade books do not promise effects the evidence does not support. His positions on contested questions acknowledge uncertainty where it exists. He has not built a brand on overreach. The framework credits this specifically because it represents the kind of cognitive virtue that produces reliable work across time. Bloom’s work will hold up better than the work of his more aggressive contemporaries because it has not overinvested in claims the evidence does not support.
Bloom’s influence will continue to grow as the overreach of his more aggressive contemporaries becomes increasingly visible. Scholars whose work depended on claims the evidence did not support are losing credibility as the evidence continues to accumulate. Scholars like Bloom, whose work stayed closer to the evidence, are positioned to have their contributions recognized as more valuable than they sometimes appeared at the height of the more aggressive claims. The tortoise-and-hare dynamic applies within academic psychology as within other fields. The careful work persists. The overreaching work erodes.
Bloom’s current situation at Toronto, his continued public engagement, and his substantial body of work position him to continue producing valuable work in the years ahead. The framework does not predict specific accomplishments but does predict that the work will continue to reflect the intellectual virtues that have characterized his career. A scholar who has built his career on careful engagement with evidence, restraint about what the evidence supports, and willingness to take positions that impose some coalition costs, will continue to produce work that reflects those virtues.
Bloom is the buffered self studying porous phenomena. His professional work examines porous cognitive operations from buffered analytical distance. Descartes’ Baby treats religious belief as cognitive artifact. Humans are “intuitive dualists” who treat minds as separate from bodies, which explains religious and afterlife beliefs. The treatment is buffered analysis of porous phenomena. Religion gets explained rather than engaged. The buffered stance toward the porous material is the work’s defining feature.
Just Babies argues that moral intuitions have evolutionary roots. The argument is a naturalistic account of phenomena that religious traditions have treated as porous connection to transcendent moral order. The buffered account provides natural-selection explanation for what porous accounts treat as participation in objective moral reality. Bloom’s framework requires that the porous account be wrong or at least unnecessary. If porous access to moral truth were real, the evolutionary explanation would be incomplete rather than sufficient. The framework treats sufficiency as achieved through naturalistic explanation alone.
Against Empathy attacks empathy as an unreliable moral guide. The argument proposes that rational compassion should replace emotional identification. This is the buffered stance in its purest form. Emotional identification is how porous selves experience moral engagement with others. Rational compassion is how buffered selves manage moral engagement while maintaining analytical distance. Bloom argues the buffered mode is morally superior. This is buffered modernity declaring its superiority to porous alternatives.
Bloom is not just buffered. He is advocate for buffered selfhood as the ethically superior mode. This is more ambitious than simply operating within buffered framework. Gelman operates within buffered framework without advocating for it. Myers operates within buffered framework while attempting to recover porous dimensions. Welch operates within buffered framework while defending it against porous political return. Bloom operates within buffered framework and argues that everyone should operate this way. The prescriptive stance is distinctive.
His work functions as argumentative apparatus for buffered modernity. His popular books provide accessible cases for the position that buffered cognition is better than porous cognition. Empathy is unreliable. Religion is cognitive byproduct. Moral intuitions are evolutionary artifacts. Each claim buffers the porous experience by providing a naturalistic account that makes the porous experience dispensable. Readers who adopt Bloom’s framework acquire tools for managing their own porous tendencies through buffered analysis.
The contrast with Haque sharpens the point. Haque argues that porous commitments produce better empirical outcomes. Bloom argues that buffered cognition produces better moral outcomes. Both men deploy empirical arguments in service of normative claims about how humans should cognize. The arguments run in opposite directions. Haque wants buffered institutions to accept porous commitments. Bloom wants porous cognizers to adopt buffered methods. Both positions are defensible. Both reflect prior commitments that the empirical evidence does not settle. The empirical evidence provides ammunition for each position rather than adjudicating between them.
Taylor’s framework suggests that buffered cognition is not more natural than porous cognition. Buffered cognition is the historical achievement of particular conditions. The conditions produce buffered selves. The buffered selves then mistake their historically contingent condition for the normal human condition. Bloom’s work exemplifies this mistake. He treats buffered cognition as the mode to be rationally advocated and porous cognition as the mode to be rationally overcome. Taylor would reframe this. Both modes are human capacities. The historical conditions of modernity privilege buffered cognition. The privileging is not rational superiority. It is institutional fit with modern social organization.
Against Empathy holds for buffered institutional contexts where abstract reasoning about large numbers of distant strangers is the appropriate moral frame. The argument holds less well for face-to-face contexts where empathic attunement to particular others is the appropriate moral frame. Bloom’s examples focus on large-scale contexts (policy, distant suffering, statistical victims). He treats these as the paradigm cases. Taylor would observe that these cases are the cases that buffered modernity generates as morally salient. Pre-modern contexts generated different cases as morally salient. The face-to-face cases that empathy serves well were the dominant moral cases in porous pre-modern contexts. Bloom’s argument works for buffered conditions and works less well when generalized to porous conditions where different kinds of moral cases dominate.
The uncomfortable implication is that Bloom’s argument about empathy reflects the conditions of buffered modernity rather than the universal truth he presents it as. The argument is useful for policy decisions made by buffered professionals operating at large scale. The argument is less useful for ordinary human relationships where empathy is what allows moral attunement to others. Bloom conflates these contexts and argues as if the policy context were the paradigm for all moral reasoning. Taylor’s framework identifies the conflation. The conflation is characteristic of buffered thinking about moral questions because buffered thinking privileges abstract reasoning about large-scale contexts.
Bloom treats religious belief as cognitive artifact requiring naturalistic explanation. The treatment characterizes religion from outside religious experience. It does not engage religious experience from within. Taylor’s central methodological claim in A Secular Age is that outside explanations of religious experience miss what religious experience is. The outside explanation treats religion as something to be explained. The inside engagement treats religion as how meaning comes through the self. The buffered outside explanation is standard in contemporary cognitive science. The inside engagement is absent from most cognitive science including Bloom’s.
This is not unique to Bloom. It is characteristic of the cognitive science of religion generally. Pascal Boyer, Jesse Bering, Robert McCauley, Justin Barrett all operate this way. The field treats religion as cognitive phenomenon requiring naturalistic explanation. The field does not engage religion from within. Taylor’s framework illuminates what the field misses. Bloom is one instance of the general pattern. The pattern is characteristic of buffered cognitive science engaging porous phenomena.
Bloom and Haque disagree at the level Taylor’s framework makes visible. Haque treats religious commitment as legitimate epistemic input. Bloom treats religious commitment as cognitive byproduct to be explained rather than engaged. Neither disputes the empirical evidence about what religious believers do or how religious practice correlates with various outcomes. They disagree about how to interpret the evidence. Haque takes the evidence as showing that porous commitments track real features of human flourishing. Bloom takes the evidence as showing that evolved cognitive mechanisms produce religious phenomena that can be understood without treating them as true. The disagreement operates at the metaphysical rather than empirical level. Taylor’s framework clarifies this. The empirical evidence does not settle buffered vs porous interpretation. Prior metaphysical commitments determine which interpretation gets adopted. Both Bloom and Haque operate with prior metaphysical commitments. Both deploy empirical evidence in service of those commitments. Neither acknowledges this in those terms because doing so would undermine the rhetorical force of the empirical evidence they deploy.
Bloom’s audience is secular cosmopolitan readers who want intellectual permission to treat religion as explained away. The Sam Harris podcast audience. The New Yorker readership. TED audiences. The buffered elite. The audience does not want to engage religion from within because doing so would require adopting the porous cognitive mode that the audience has either never had or left behind. Bloom provides what the audience wants. The provision is skillful. The skill consists in making the buffered stance feel like rigorous scientific inquiry rather than the coalition preference it functions as. Pinsof’s framework identifies this function. Taylor’s framework explains why the function appeals so strongly to the audience that receives it.
Bloom’s work exemplifies what Taylor calls the closed world structure of modern secular thought. The closed world structure treats secular naturalistic explanation as the default frame within which all phenomena must fit. Religion, morality, meaning, suffering, love, beauty all get explained through naturalistic mechanisms rather than engaged as potentially porous openings to what the naturalistic frame excludes. Bloom operates entirely within the closed world structure. His books reinforce the structure for his readers. The structure is not argumentatively demonstrated. It is phenomenologically assumed and rhetorically maintained. Taylor’s central argument is that the closed world structure is not self-grounding. It depends on historically specific conditions that the structure itself cannot justify from within.
Bloom’s work does not engage this critique. It proceeds as if the closed world structure were self-evidently correct. This is characteristic of work operating within closed world assumptions. The assumptions are invisible from within. Taylor’s framework makes them visible from outside. Bloom would not find Taylor’s critique compelling because finding it so would require operating outside the framework that makes Bloom’s work possible. The structural feature operates across most secular cognitive science. Bloom is a successful instance of the general pattern.
Taylor’s framework predicts that work operating within the closed world structure will encounter increasing difficulty as porous cognition returns to cultural prominence. The difficulty will not take the form of rational refutation because the frameworks operate at different phenomenological levels. The difficulty will take the form of decreasing cultural resonance. Populations operating in porous modes will not find Bloom’s arguments compelling because the arguments do not address what porous populations experience as central. His audience will remain the persisting buffered elite. That elite will likely retain institutional power for some time. Bloom will continue to enjoy success within that institutional context. The broader cultural influence his work implicitly claims to have extends only as far as buffered cognition extends. Taylor’s framework suggests that extension is less than Bloom’s work implicitly assumes.
Bloom is where Taylor’s framework makes visible what no other framework we have applied quite captures. Pinsof’s coalition analysis identifies who Bloom’s work serves. Turner’s convenient beliefs framework identifies what Bloom cannot say given his position. Alexander’s cultural trauma framework identifies how Bloom’s work functions in civic ritual space. Taylor’s framework identifies what Bloom’s work presupposes about human cognition itself. The presupposition is that buffered cognition is the mode human beings should aim for and the mode that produces the best outcomes. The presupposition is not self-evidently true. It is a historically specific stance that Bloom treats as universal. Making this visible is what Taylor’s framework adds that other frameworks do not.
Where Gelman is so thoroughly buffered that the framework adds little, Bloom actively advocates for buffered cognition against porous alternatives, which the framework has more to say about. The advocacy is where Taylor’s framework has the most analytical purchase. The advocacy operates within assumptions that the framework questions. Making the assumptions visible constitutes the analytical contribution. For Bloom this is substantial. The contribution reframes Bloom’s prescriptive project as defending a historically contingent achievement rather than advocating for universal human improvement.
I worked through the free Small Potatoes archive from Bloom’s first post in August 2023 through the current August 2026 material, including the re-released pieces and some comment threads where his replies clarify what he thinks he is doing.
Bloom has undergone a progressive de-editing. He begins as an eminent psychologist experimenting with an informal notebook. He discovers that he likes writing without gatekeepers. Then he discovers that readers especially like him when he enters forbidden territory. He notices that incentive and worries about it. Instead of retreating, he devises ways to manage it. By 2025 he has become a Substack-native public intellectual, one who deliberately chooses propositions that initially sound disreputable and then tries to make them respectable through argument.
The danger is built into that form. Bloom’s characteristic move has become front-loaded provocation followed by back-loaded qualification. The whole essay can be quite careful while the first three paragraphs are radioactive.
The opening post in August 2023 says Small Potatoes begins because a writing project “fell through suddenly and unpleasantly.” A friend suggests Substack. Bloom likes the prospect of writing and receiving feedback “without editors and other gatekeepers.” At the same time, he goes out of his way to praise his editors at The New Yorker and The Atlantic, who, he says, made his essays much better. What he wants is another register, a “less constrained” writing.
The first six months feel like an intellectual notebook. There are pieces on implicit bias, trigger warnings, plagiarism, envy, teaching, giving talks, books, the experience machine, AI morality, productivity and social media. The politics are usually incidental. Even where the topic is politically loaded, Bloom’s instinct is anti-coalitional. On implicit bias, people who dismiss it as woke nonsense are wrong, and social psychologists who overstate the evidence and smear critics are wrong too.
That is the basic Bloom move before Small Potatoes. Take a dispute organized into two camps and tell both camps that their conceptual categories are lousy.
By November 2023 he is already contrasting Substack with Twitter. Twitter has become nasty, unproductive and mob-driven, while Substack gives him thoughtful conversation. He says Small Potatoes is taking far more time than expected simply because he enjoys writing it and talking with readers.
Then something significant happens. In March 2024 he says he spends at least an hour on it every morning, has 34 posts in draft, and works on it “more than any other single project in my life.” The money comes afterward. He has fallen in love with the activity first. He also introduces a safety mechanism. Longer and more controversial pieces can first go to paid subscribers for criticism before he gives them to everyone else.
By the first anniversary he has published 54 pieces plus two guest posts, accumulated more than 10,000 free subscribers, and explains the appeal in three words: “Writing is how I think.” A year later he reports more than 19,000 free subscribers and repeats the same formulation.
The major turn comes in late 2024. “Progressives should worry more about their favorite scientific findings” argues that politically congenial findings may deserve extra skepticism when journals themselves possess political preferences. It becomes a hit. The Chronicle of Higher Education asks to reprint it.
Bloom then diagnoses his own incentives. In “This and That (11)” he says the post succeeded because it was a culture-war post critical of a “woke” tendency in science. He admits liking the attention. He says he is “usually on the anti-woke side.” More importantly, he dislikes the tribal response these subjects generate. He wants readers thinking, “Huh, interesting,” not cheering because he has humiliated the enemy. He concludes that he will keep writing about culture-war questions, “but not too often.”
That is the hinge in the history of Small Potatoes. Bloom sees audience capture happening in real time.
And then, he partly succumbs to it and partly resists it.
The 2025 newsletter is noticeably more combustible. There is the humiliation theory of American politics, embryo selection and AI love, professorial cowardice, sexual desire and the Internet, sex differences and academic truth-seeking, and eventually “Wokeness and effective altruism.”
Yet it never settles into the conventional anti-woke Substack groove. He still writes the trigger-warning piece in a way that essentially sides with a practice many heterodox writers despise. He attacks male intellectual culture immediately after criticizing female intellectual culture. He takes seriously the attractions of AI companionship as well as its dangers. He criticizes professors for timidity while repeatedly acknowledging that professional retaliation can make caution rational.
The 2026 writing broadens again. There is religion and the alleged God-shaped hole, consent, immortality, parenthood, books and AI. His recent “Death by AI” is a good example. The hook is inflammatory, involving deaths caused by AI systems, but the argument is a lesson in denominators and control groups. Don’t ask whether AI ever kills or harms somebody. Ask whether it does so more frequently than the available human alternative.
So I would describe the three years this way. 2023 is discovery. 2024 is audience formation. 2025 is boundary testing. 2026 is consolidation. He now possesses a house style and a significant audience. His Substack might be the most thrilling thing in his life.
The easiest way to characterize Bloom’s Substack prose is to compare it with his magazine prose.
Bloom gives us the experiment. In “Credit the editors”, he reproduces a much-praised passage from one of his New Yorker articles and reveals that Henry Finder substantially wrote the sentences people admired. He says reading one of his edited New Yorker pieces is like looking into a mirror and seeing a better-looking version of himself.
Small Potatoes is the unretouched Bloom.
He is less elegant there and more alive. The prose is full of “bullshit,” “shit,” “fuck,” jokes about sex, parenthetical asides and self-mockery. He makes himself a comic character. The old Canadian at the sex debate. The professor who likes his colleagues but thinks they are timid. The writer who discovers that the beautiful sentence everyone praises isn’t really his sentence.
His best natural unit is the seminar intervention. “Okay, but what exactly do we mean?” “What would follow if that were true?” “Suppose we reversed the case.” “What is the comparison group?” “Who would be surprised if the experiment came out the other way?”
He likes thought experiments because they permit him to strip away moral coloration. The parenthood essay proceeds by imagining when you would want Hitler to have a safe car ride. Answer: when your children are in the back seat. The point is clear once he has made the case grotesque.
He also loves inversion. Maybe trigger warnings are good for reasons having nothing to do with trauma. Maybe professors are politically radical but temperamentally conservative. Maybe female academic culture damages truth-seeking and male academic culture damages it even more. Maybe AI’s capacity to eliminate loneliness is itself the problem. Maybe immortality isn’t terrifying but obviously desirable. Maybe developmental research can be technically excellent and a bad idea.
That is why so many titles have the structure of a dare.
His other important technique is confession. He tells you where he was wrong, where his own work has committed the sin he is criticizing, what his editor changed, what argument he abandoned, what he hesitated to publish. In the developmental psychology essay, after complaining that researchers run theoretically pointless studies because they can publish them, he admits that he and his students have published exactly that.
This lets him be harsher because he places himself within the class being indicted.
There is also much visible pleasure. He likes it. He really likes it.
My rough judgment is that about four-fifths of the free corpus passes the front page test easily. Perhaps another 10 to 15 percent passes if the quote contains enough of the argument. A relatively small handful contains sentences or titles that I suspect would make Bloom’s stomach drop if he woke up and saw them isolated beneath a photograph on the front page of The New York Times.
He has increasingly adopted a prose technology that is vulnerable to context collapse. An example is “Are women unsuited for the pursuit of truth? Yes. But so are men.” Bloom says that what Helen Andrews calls “female modes of interaction” are not optimal for truth-seeking. Only afterward does he argue that male modes may be still worse, because aggressive status competition discourages honesty, collaboration and timid but brilliant scholars.
The full essay is an argument against organizing inquiry around either sex stereotype. But “Paul Bloom: female modes of interaction are not optimal for the pursuit of truth” is also an accurate quotation of his position. That is a front-page-test failure in the narrow reputational sense. He would desperately want paragraph 12 attached to paragraph 5.
The embryo-selection essay is another. He is skeptical that current polygenic screening can deliver what proponents promise, but if it eventually can reduce serious disease or increase desirable characteristics, he sees no categorical moral objection to parents using it. Put accurately but brutally on a front page, “Prominent psychologist defends selecting embryos for intelligence” would produce a different social event from the Substack essay.
His argument about sexual desire has the same vulnerability. He discusses the large rise in bisexual identification among younger liberal women while distinguishing identity and behavior from underlying sexual preference. Whatever one thinks of the evidence, a few accurate sentences from this discussion could travel through academic social media stripped of the distinction on which his argument depends.
“Nobody can touch you without your consent” is engineered for context collapse. The essay begins by affirming bodily autonomy, then investigates circumstances where the maxim cannot be universal. The title plus “there are exceptions” is far more combustible than the discussion. Significantly, it first appeared for paid subscribers and only later emerged publicly in revised form.
“Why are so few professors troublemakers?” has less moral danger but considerable professional danger. Bloom says professors are not very brave and traces some academic success to conformity and risk aversion. Yet here the experiment has already been run. The piece was reworked for The Chronicle of Higher Education as “Why Aren’t Professors Braver?”
In fact, there is a literal answer to the front-page question. “Why Aren’t Professors Braver?” became the cover line of the October 31, 2025 issue of The Chronicle of Higher Education.
And his progressive-science argument was also republished by The Chronicle. His January 2026 essay about professors resisting institutional change appeared there too.
So Bloom’s high-wire material is repeatedly passing through a professional gatekeeper after originating on Substack.
There is a delicious irony in the embryo-screening post. Before attacking quotations from two New York Times articles, Bloom pauses to acknowledge that quotes may have been taken out of context and that people sometimes regret things they tell reporters. He understands the front-page test. He simply keeps writing sentences that create the risk.
Bloom shows risk awareness. He pretests controversial essays with paid subscribers. He sometimes publishes them there first and later releases a revised public version. He tells readers when he hesitated before publishing something. He solicits attacks on his argument. His comment section is partly a homebrew peer-review mechanism.
The developmental-psychology piece ends with him admitting that he hesitated because he did not want to anger colleagues. The professors essay was initially paid-only. The consent essay was initially paid-only. He is distinguishing levels of exposure.
But he is also in an extraordinarily favorable position for this experiment. He is a senior scholar with decades of reputation, a Yale emeritus chair, a full professor at Toronto, an extensive publication record and a large public readership. A 30-year-old assistant professor could not write this Substack with the same expected costs.
Bloom knows this. Much of the professors essay is about how professional dependence creates caution.
His deepest fear is becoming stupid through tribalism.
That is what makes “This and That (11)” so important. He does not say, “Culture-war posts might get me canceled.” He says they attract the wrong cognitive and emotional response. They make writers and readers tribal, and favorable responses can be as corrupting as hostile ones.
I find no evidence that his Substack has damaged his standing. His position has changed.
The University of Toronto presently lists him as a professor in psychology and notes his Yale emeritus professorship, awards, popular writing and editorial work. Cambridge University Press presently lists Paul Bloom as the editor of Behavioral and Brain Sciences, a high-level journal in psychology and cognitive science.
Toronto’s psychology department features his provocatively titled 2024 Theory and Society paper, “Much of developmental psychology is not worth doing.”
Someone encountering Bloom primarily through Against Empathy, Psych, Yale lectures and New Yorker pieces would once have classified him primarily as a prominent cognitive and developmental psychologist who also happened to be a good writer. Someone encountering the 2025 Small Potatoes might classify him as a heterodox public intellectual who happens to be a prominent psychologist.
That shift could carry social costs among some colleagues. I cannot document those private costs. It may also carry benefits. He now has an audience that will follow him from embryo screening to developmental methodology to immortality. He gets podcast invitations. The Chronicle comes to him. He can test an idea on thousands of intelligent readers before deciding what to do with it.
At his career stage, that is probably a favorable exchange.
Why does he write it? His stated explanation turns out to be convincing. He writes to think.
His 2025 account of writing “The End of Loneliness” describes discovering through writing that the structure he had pitched was bad. Putting the argument into sentences revealed “an awful lot of bullshit,” forcing him to rethink it. He regards writing as an epistemic procedure.
Substack gives him a permanent supply of occasions to perform that procedure.
There are secondary motives. Autonomy matters. Feedback matters. Fun clearly matters. Money eventually mattered. Audience matters. Being invited onto podcasts matters. The migration away from Twitter matters. But I don’t think any of these explains an eminent psychologist waking up every morning and spending an hour on 34 unfinished posts.
The better explanation is that Bloom has accidentally constructed an intellectual gym for himself.
That also explains the extraordinary range. A conventional academic must decide whether an idea is worth a paper. A New Yorker writer must decide whether it is worth pitching. On Small Potatoes, Bloom can ask whether immortality would get boring and have the argument in front of readers a few mornings later. His immortality essay is an example of this kind of intellectual play.
Is the Substack seeping into his academic work? Yes.
In July 2024 he publishes “A lot of developmental psychology isn’t worth doing.” Later in 2024 Theory and Society publishes Bloom’s “Much of developmental psychology is not worth doing.” It is substantially the same intellectual intervention, now in scholarly form.
That is visible traffic from the newsletter into the scholarly literature.
There is another form of traffic around AI. The newsletter repeatedly develops arguments about AI companionship, loneliness, effort and the dangers of making life frictionless. In February 2026 Bloom, Emily Zohar and Michael Inzlicht published “Against frictionless AI” in Communications Psychology. Its thesis is Bloomian: AI’s apparent virtue, removing difficulty, can itself be a vice because difficulty contributes to learning, meaning and development.
The academic version is properly referenced and considerably more formal. Bloom has not started writing “this shit happens all the time” in journal articles.
What is seeping across is the question selection.
The titles are becoming thesis-forward. The questions are larger. The willingness to tell an entire field that much of its work is pointless is very Substack. So is the preference for a counterintuitive proposition simple enough to state in one sentence.
Substack changes his scholarship at the conceptual level.
And that may be productive. One chronic disease of academic writing is that the paper has been technically executed before anybody asks whether its question is interesting. Small Potatoes forces Bloom to compete for a reader’s voluntary attention every week. That selects hard for consequential questions.
The risk is that it also selects for controversial ones.
Bloom has created a controlled experiment in audience capture while writing about audience capture.
His September 2023 “Your followers might hate you” is about how social-media feedback teaches writers what gets rewarded and punished. A year later he publishes an anti-woke-adjacent science post, watches the subscriber and engagement numbers jump, and immediately tells his readers that he knows exactly why it happened and distrusts the incentive.
Then he goes on to write more pieces that activate the same audience. That makes him a fascinating case. The audience is changing the distribution of subjects he chooses. I doubt that without Small Potatoes Paul Bloom would have spent this much public time in 2025 on wokeness, female and male intellectual styles, professors’ cowardice, bisexual identification, embryo selection and culture-war epistemology.
But the audience has not yet captured the conclusions.
He frequently starts from territory favored by the heterodox and refuses to deliver the expected ending. Trigger warnings can be good. Male modes of intellectual interaction can be worse than female ones. Anti-woke people can become every bit as tribal and stupid as woke people. AI can alleviate loneliness and damage us by doing so. Professors can be timid because timidity is a rational response to their institutions.
So the thing I would watch is whether the distance between the provocative title and the qualified conclusion begins to shrink. Right now the distinctive Small Potatoes formula is:
Here is something you’re not supposed to say.
Actually, there is something to it.
But not for the reasons the people who usually say it think.
And the opposite side has a point too.
Now here’s a weird psychological experiment.
That formula protects him while he produces interesting work.
Virtually You: The Dangerous Powers of the E-Personality
Virtually You applies to Bloom as a theory of amplification and feedback. Bloom seems to have developed a distinct “e-personality” that is recognizably him but more uninhibited, more provocative and increasingly capable of feeding back into Paul Bloom the academic.
Aboujaoude argues that online activity can generate an identity that is an extension of the ordinary person that is “more assertive, less restrained” and especially useful for voicing unpopular opinions. That is the difference I saw between journal-and-magazine Bloom and Small Potatoes Bloom.
Bloom presents the Substack as more authentically himself because the editors have been removed. But Aboujaoude’s point is that “more authentic” does not necessarily mean “more representative.” The medium selects and amplifies certain components of the person. The Bloom who swears, tells sex jokes, says that much of developmental psychology is not worth doing, asks whether women are unsuited for truth-seeking and casually wanders into embryo selection is Bloom with several inhibiting institutions stripped away.
This complicates something I said earlier about “de-editing.” Aboujaoude gives us a psychological version of the same idea. Bloom is producing a new version of himself through repeated participation in a medium that rewards a particular version.
Bloom says that Small Potatoes rapidly became a major part of his daily intellectual life. Once he is spending an hour every morning writing it, carrying dozens of draft posts and then appearing on podcasts generated partly by that writing, the online persona is no longer an occasional costume. Aboujaoude’s central concern is that online traits can migrate back into offline behavior. He argues that we may become more daring and less diplomatic away from the screen because behaviors acquired online become incorporated into ordinary personality.
That suggests a stronger hypothesis than the one we were considering before about the Substack seeping into Bloom’s scholarship. It may not merely be that Substack gives Bloom ideas for academic papers. It may be training Paul Bloom to be a different kind of intellectual.
Consider the title “Much of developmental psychology is not worth doing.” That is an academic argument, but the proposition has the unmistakable architecture of a Substack post. It is declarative, provocative, compressible and immediately legible to an intelligent nonspecialist. His recent academic AI work has some of the same quality. The argument comes first. The literature and qualification follow.
Aboujaoude calls this merging of online and ordinary identity “virtualism.” His idea is that repeated online experience makes it progressively harder to distinguish the virtual personality from the offline one.
The second powerful application is audience feedback. Bloom has supplied us with evidence. He publishes the piece about progressives being insufficiently skeptical of politically congenial science. It takes off. He gains attention. Then he writes that he enjoyed the attention and worries that culture-war writing encourages tribal responses. He knows what the reinforcement is doing.
Aboujaoude wrote long before the mature Substack economy, but he notices the importance of visible followers and instant reactions. Follower counts transform popularity into a publicly visible metric and can suggest that greater popularity means greater authority. Substack has vastly improved the mechanism. The writer now receives subscriber counts, likes, comments, shares, recommendations, podcast invitations and sometimes money.
That means Bloom doesn’t merely discover what he thinks by writing. He discovers which version of Paul Bloom other people most want. And we have direct evidence that he notices the distinction.
This gives us a potentially much better formulation than “audience capture.” Capture sounds binary. Bloom has not been captured. His conclusions remain unpredictable. A better description might be audience selection pressure.
Imagine Bloom has twenty possible essays in his head. One is about an obscure puzzle in developmental cognition. One is about a novel. One is about whether female social norms undermine truth-seeking. The audience does not have to change his opinion about women to change his intellectual output. It merely has to make that essay ten times more rewarding to publish.
The result can be complete sincerity plus a profound shift in output. That is why the trajectory we found matters. Bloom’s anti-woke-adjacent post succeeds spectacularly. He recognizes why it succeeded. He worries about the effect. Yet the subsequent distribution of subjects becomes more culture-war-adjacent.
The third application is the difference between authenticity and performance. Bloom’s Substack persona feels extraordinarily authentic. It is confessional. He admits mistakes. He makes himself the butt of jokes. He tells us when he was scared to publish something. He discusses his editors, colleagues and intellectual failures. That creates the impression that we are finally meeting Paul Bloom rather than Professor Paul Bloom.
But every durable public persona becomes partly performed simply through repetition. Bloom learns that the recognizable Small Potatoes Bloom is curious, mildly naughty, amused by taboos, impatient with pieties, willing to say “bullshit,” politically difficult to classify and delighted by counterintuitive arguments. He repeatedly selects those authentic parts of himself for display.
Eventually the selected self can become more coherent than the person. Bloom’s e-personality can be a real subset of his personality that becomes disproportionately vivid through repetition. Aboujaoude describes the online personality as potentially “bolder, stronger, and more efficient” than its offline source.
I think that description fits Bloom, and Podcast Bloom strengthens this effect. Podcasts partially collapse the online/offline distinction. We hear his voice, timing, laughter and hesitation. He cannot endlessly revise himself as he can on Substack. That makes the persona seem even more authentic. But podcast incentives still favor the memorable formulation, the surprising answer and the amusing transgression. Bloom is good at all three.
So his Substack may train the propositions, while podcasts train their oral performance.
The fourth application is reputational permanence, and this connects directly to the front-page test. Aboujaoude argues that we disclose things online while underestimating the extent to which other people will construct their picture of us from those disclosures. Somebody’s politics, jokes or casual remarks become employment and reputation data. He also emphasizes that online material is difficult to retract because copies and archives survive deletion.
Bloom has created a several-hundred-thousand-word permanent deposition of Paul Bloom. That is different from publishing five books. A hostile reader investigating one of his books has several hundred carefully edited pages to search. A hostile reader investigating his online life has hundreds of informal judgments, jokes, qualifications, abandoned thoughts, discussions of sex and politics and occasional deliberately provocative sentences. Almost any future controversy involving Bloom can therefore be accompanied by a search through Small Potatoes for the worst accurately quotable sentence.
That is the Aboujaoude problem. That also explains why Bloom’s precautions interest me. Paid-first publication, soliciting objections and revising before making something public are technological substitutes for the editors he removed. Bloom has recreated a little gatekeeping institution inside his supposedly gatekeeper-free project. That suggests that he understands the danger very well.
The online Paul Bloom is more self-centered in subject matter and less self-important in tone. Academic Bloom suppresses most of Paul Bloom while surrounding what remains with the authority of Yale, Toronto, peer review, citations and disciplinary conventions. Substack Bloom talks constantly about himself, his reactions, what he read, what annoyed him, what he got wrong and what he thinks. Yet he sounds less grandiose because he jokes, confesses ignorance and exposes the machinery behind his authority.
So the e-personality simultaneously enlarges the self and punctures it.
The interesting question raised by Virtually You is: Which Paul Bloom is now training which?
In 2023, Professor Bloom seems to have created Small Potatoes Bloom as an outlet where he could write without the restraints governing Professor Bloom. Three years later, Small Potatoes Bloom has a large audience, a recognizable voice, a daily claim on his time, podcast appearances and demonstrable routes back into his professional writing.
At some point the causal arrow can reverse.
That gives us a testable extension of the trajectory essay. Compare Bloom’s scholarly papers, magazine essays, lectures and podcast appearances from roughly 2010-2022 with those from 2024-2026. Code for provocative thesis-first titles, first-person disclosure, taboo examples, profanity, culture-war subject selection, explicit moral judgments, sweeping field-level claims, humorous asides and the characteristic Bloom inversion in which an apparently outrageous claim is introduced and then qualified. If these features rise outside Small Potatoes after 2023, we would have evidence for exactly the phenomenon Aboujaoude describes: not merely an academic acquiring an online persona, but an online persona beginning to remake the academic.
I did a first-pass version of the test, and the result is that Small Potatoes has intensified, routinized and given a distribution system to traits that were already strong in Bloom. It has also become an incubator from which some of his work now moves directly into academic and prestige-media venues.
I did an exploratory coding of 40 items, divided among scholarly publications, magazine essays and substantial podcast appearances before and after the launch of Small Potatoes. I separately checked his public-lecture record. I coded the nine things we identified: provocative thesis-first title, first-person disclosure, taboo examples, profanity, culture-war subject matter, explicit moral judgments, sweeping field-level claims, humorous asides and the Bloom inversion in which he begins with an apparently outrageous proposition and then qualifies or partially reverses it.
I would treat the numbers as descriptive rather than statistical.
The crucial negative control is old Paul Bloom.
Long before Substack, Bloom was already writing titles such as “Against Empathy,” “People Don’t Actually Want Equality,” “The Irrational Idea That Humans Are Mostly Irrational,” “Empathy for Trump Voters? No, Thanks,” “Morality Is Not Always Good,” “Arguing With the Vampire” and “The Paradox of Pleasurable Fear.” His 2012 Chronicle of Higher Education contribution was literally titled “Free Will Does Not Exist. So What?”
His 2014 Boston Review essay is particularly devastating to any simple before-and-after theory. It opens with Bloom telling people he is writing a book about empathy and then adding, “I’m against it.” He immediately jokes that this sounds like announcing that you hate kittens. Then comes the characteristic Bloom maneuver: of course he isn’t against kindness or morality. He thinks rejecting empathy will make us more moral.
That is Small Potatoes structure nine years before Small Potatoes.
Likewise, the public lecturer was already using propositions that would make a university communications office nervous. In 2013 he lectured at UBC under the title “There is nothing special about religion” and concluded that there was little evidence that religion had the special moral significance often attributed to it. His 2014 TED material argued that prejudice is natural, often rational and sometimes moral, before explaining where it becomes destructive. In 2022 he was publicly talking about spicy food, horror, BDSM, hate-reading, going to war and the “joys of suffering” in a University of Colorado appearance.
Again, the outrageous proposition followed by the distinction is not a Substack adaptation. It is a Bloom technique.
The podcasts make the case. In 2019 he went on Modern Wisdom for an episode titled “What Do BDSM & Meditation Have In Common?” In February 2020, Sam Harris and Bloom discussed child sexual abuse, eugenics, loyalty, existential risk and presidential politics.
So when Bloom goes on Tyler Cowen in 2024 and discusses “woke LLMs,” interracial marriage, moral disgust, incest thought experiments and whether wokeness makes aspects of the world worse, it sounds extremely Small Potatoes. But the longitudinal comparison says something important: podcast Bloom was already like this.
My coding bears this out. In the podcast sample, first-person disclosure was essentially universal both before and after Substack. Humor was essentially universal. Moral judgment was essentially universal. Bloom inversions were extremely common in both periods. Taboo examples were actually somewhat more common in my pre-2023 sample. The clear increase was culture-war and current-political subject matter.
That last increase has a confound. Bloom now appears repeatedly in explicitly current-affairs conversations, particularly with Robert Wright and Sam Harris. His July 2025 Harris appearance included Trump and universities, Epstein, MAGA conspiracy theories, Elon Musk and AI companionship. You cannot infer a psychological change from that without accounting for a change in the sort of podcast he is doing.
The scholarly record produces the most surprising result. As a whole, it does not become more Substack-like. In my scholarly sample, provocative titles were actually somewhat more common before 2023 than afterward. First-person disclosure remained rare. Profanity remained essentially nonexistent. Culture-war subject matter remained essentially absent. Sweeping claims and overt moral judgments did not show a general increase. Recent empirical papers still tend to look like empirical psychology papers.
That makes sense when you look beyond the conspicuous titles. A paper such as “Developmental changes in the perceived moral standing of robots” is not Small Potatoes prose. Neither is “Characterizing empathy and compassion using computational linguistic analysis.” Bloom remains perfectly capable of switching registers.
There is, however, one extraordinary exception. On July 29, 2024, Bloom published the Substack post “A lot of developmental psychology isn’t worth doing.” He jokes with the reader, dismisses “civilians,” confesses to having committed the same scholarly sins, says he hesitated because he didn’t want to “piss people off,” mocks ritualized conference questions and makes the sweeping claim that a significant class of developmental research is largely pointless.
In 2024 Theory and Society published Paul Bloom, “Much of developmental psychology is not worth doing.” The scholarly abstract makes essentially the same argument: many developmental age-comparison studies lack adequate theoretical justification and the field should shift toward questions that matter theoretically.
This is the strongest evidence we have.
We cannot establish from publication dates that the Substack post caused the academic paper. The journal article may already have been drafted or under review when the July post appeared. What we can establish is that the same intervention existed simultaneously in his new informal persona and his scholarly production, and that the informal public version appeared before the journal version appeared publicly.
I previously treated the 2026 Communications Psychology essay “Against frictionless AI” as evidence that Bloom’s Substack voice was entering his academic work. That’s too strong. The published authorship statement says Emily Zohar wrote the original draft. Bloom, Zohar and Michael Inzlicht jointly conceptualized it and revised it. So the wonderfully Substack-like title and argument cannot simply be coded as Bloom’s prose migrating into science.
The magazine evidence initially looks much more supportive of the seepage hypothesis. In my pre-2023 magazine sample, roughly three-quarters of the essays had provocative thesis-first titles. In the four substantial 2024-26 pieces I coded, all four did. First-person disclosure rose from roughly three-fifths to all four. Culture-war subject matter went from something like two-fifths to three of four. Sweeping institutional or field-level claims also became considerably more common.
But there is a gigantic problem with treating this as psychological evidence.
Three of the conspicuous post-2023 examples are Chronicle of Higher Education versions of Small Potatoes posts.
“Why Aren’t Professors Braver?” ends by explicitly telling readers that a version originally appeared on Small Potatoes.
“Why Professors Fear the Future” does the same.
The third is “Why Progressives Should Question Their Favorite Scientific Findings.” The Chronicle’s author archive places all three together and makes the shift in his recent subject matter rather striking.
This is important, but it isn’t seepage in the psychological sense. It is syndication.
The Substack persona is escaping the Substack because professional publications are buying it.
Bloom’s 2025 New Yorker article “A.I. Is About to Solve Loneliness. That’s a Problem.” Even the title has the classic Bloom inversion built into it. Solving loneliness sounds good. Bloom argues that this apparent good may deprive people of the painful experiences through which they learn to connect to other human beings.
That certainly feels like contemporary Bloom. But once again the control matters. “Against Empathy” did exactly the same rhetorical thing in 2014. The relevant change isn’t invention of the technique.
And Bloom’s account of producing the New Yorker article argues against crude deprofessionalization. He says his original argument turned out to be bad, that writing forced him to discover this, that he repeatedly rewrote the piece and that Henry Finder performed “wise and meticulous editorial work.”
He is not replacing edited Bloom with Substack Bloom. He increasingly seems to maintain both and move ideas between them.
Aboujaoude’s striking claim in Virtually You is that the online self can become “more assertive, less restrained” than the ordinary person, and that the Internet can make voicing unpopular views easier. He goes further and argues that traits cultivated online can eventually become incorporated into offline personality.
With Bloom, the first proposition fits much better than the second. Paul Bloom went online and found a medium that disproportionately rewards one long-established part of Paul Bloom. He began exercising that part of himself far more frequently. The resulting body of work then created new routes into magazines, podcasts and, at least occasionally, scholarly argument.
My coding suggests a useful distinction between four possible effects.
The first is stylistic transformation. I find little evidence for it. Bloom was funny, personal, provocative and fond of inversions long before 2023.
The second is subject selection. Here I find more evidence. Recent public Bloom spends much more time on ideological bias in science, professorial conformity, academic courage, institutional conservatism, AI politics and related culture-war territory.
The third is frequency. Before Small Potatoes, a Bloom provocation had to become a book, journal contribution, commissioned magazine article, lecture or podcast invitation. Now he can produce one whenever the argument interests him. A trait that once appeared intermittently can become the dominant public representation of him.
The fourth is circulation. Here the evidence is undeniable. Small Potatoes arguments are now being republished by The Chronicle, discussed on podcasts and reproduced in closely related scholarly interventions. The newsletter has become part of Bloom’s intellectual production system.
Small Potatoes did not invent the contrarian Paul Bloom. It industrialized him.
There is also a fascinating Aboujaoude reversal here. His model imagines the e-personality escaping from the Internet into ordinary life. Bloom appears to be doing something more conscious. He has built membranes between the personae. Substack supplies speed, provocation, reader feedback and experimentation. Paid subscribers sometimes function as preliminary reviewers. Podcasts supply conversational testing. The New Yorker restores Henry Finder. Journals restore peer review and disciplinary conventions.
So rather than watching the destruction of Bloom’s gatekeepers, we may be watching him construct a new sequence of gatekeepers.
And that gives us another empirical study to do. Instead of merely comparing “before” and “after,” trace individual ideas across media. Start with every Small Potatoes post that later became or fed into a Chronicle article, New Yorker article, scholarly paper, lecture or podcast. Compare the versions sentence by sentence. Ask what gets removed as an idea moves upward through the gatekeeping chain: profanity, personal disclosure, culture-war framing, sweeping claims, jokes, provocative titles and qualifications. That would let us observe the online Paul Bloom being converted back into professional Paul Bloom in real time.
I found six documentable cases in which a Small Potatoes idea moved into another medium, plus a larger AI-companionship sequence that crosses back and forth among scholarship, Substack, The New Yorker, podcasts and TED. I also found an important reverse-flow control where a New Yorker article moved into Small Potatoes.
The main finding is this: The evidence is much stronger for pipeline seepage than for personality seepage.
Bloom’s professional gatekeepers are not removing the dangerous, funny, provocative Bloom and restoring a sober academic. They preserve most of him. What they consistently remove is the Substack furniture: subscriber appeals, chatter about titles, comments to readers, alternate endings, hashtags, draft-stage digressions and some of the rougher diction. They also improve factual precision and argumentative architecture.
The Chronicle is surprisingly permissive. The New Yorker intervenes much more deeply. Podcasts barely sanitize him at all. The scholarly case is somewhere in between.
I. “Progressives should worry more about their favorite scientific findings” → The Chronicle.
Bloom published the Small Potatoes essay on progressives on October 21, 2024. He later reported that it was a hit, brought likes, comments and new subscribers, and that The Chronicle of Higher Education contacted him “as soon as it was published” about reprinting a slightly edited version. He also diagnosed why the essay had succeeded. It was a culture-war post criticizing a “woke” tendency in science.
Four days later, The Chronicle published “Why Progressives Should Question Their Favorite Scientific Findings.” The publication itself labels the essay an adaptation from Small Potatoes.
This is therefore about as close as we are going to get to putting Bloom’s e-personality through a professional editing machine and examining what comes out the other end.
What disappeared? First, the Substack title was softened slightly. “Worry more” becomes “Question.” The Ginger Rogers subtitle disappears and is replaced with the sober explanatory deck, “Academic journals are not immune from ideological bias.”
Second, the platform scaffolding disappears. The subscription interruption disappears. Bloom’s late discussion of why he chose the title disappears. The Substack contains two endings. Bloom announces that he likes the optimistic ending he wrote while in a cheerful mood, then says his mood has worsened and supplies a darker alternative. That is quintessential Small Potatoes: we see the writer thinking, changing mood and letting the audience watch the composition process. The Chronicle simply integrates the argument into a finished essay.
Third, at least one important empirical claim becomes more careful. The Substack says that the reported Black-doctor effect “disappears” once low birth weight is taken into account. The Chronicle substitutes the more defensible formulation that the effect is substantially weakened and often loses statistical significance. We cannot know whether Bloom or an editor made the correction, but the professional version is plainly more precise.
Now look at what does not disappear.
“That has to be bullshit!” survives. So does “Meh.” So does the argument about racial diversity research. So does the assertion that politically congenial findings deserve extra skepticism. So do the female-mentor controversy, ideological bias in journals, the Trump and Harris examples and the broad criticism of progressive scientific institutions.
The qualifications survive too. Bloom continues to say that he does not want to exaggerate the extent of political bias, that most research has nothing to do with politics and that politically unwelcome findings do get published.
Even the explicit moral conclusion survives. Bloom says that sacrificing accuracy to affiliation makes the world worse and that scientific culture should reward truth-seeking.
So the coding for this case:
Provocative thesis: retained.
First person: retained.
Culture-war framing: retained.
Taboo examples: retained.
Profanity: retained.
Sweeping institutional claim: retained.
Humor: retained.
Qualifications: retained and in one important place sharpened.
Substack self-performance: removed.
This is not sanitization. It is professionalization.
II. “Why are so few professors troublemakers?” → Robert Wright → The Chronicle
This case is even better because we can observe three stages. Bloom first sent “Why are so few professors troublemakers?” to paid subscribers on May 19, 2025. Eleven days later, his regular podcast with Robert Wright included a paid segment explicitly titled “Why are so few professors troublemakers?”
He later released a mildly edited public Substack version. On September 24, The Chronicle published “Why Aren’t Professors Braver?” and explicitly stated that it originated on Small Potatoes.
The first notable deletion comes before the argument even begins. Bloom’s Substack opens by telling us about his struggle to choose a title. “Why are professors so nice?” sounded self-congratulatory. “Why are professors so timid?” sounded too mean. This little glimpse into Bloom managing his persona disappears entirely from The Chronicle.
What replaces it? Nothing. The Chronicle begins immediately with Bloom saying that he likes professors, that he is one, that his wife is one and that most of his friends are professors. That means the first-person disclosure survives almost untouched. So does the joke that if a drunk attacks somebody in a bar, the drunk is unlikely to be a professor. The wording is virtually identical. Then we get to the material one might expect a professional editor to worry about. Bloom discusses academic taboos involving biological sex, racial disparities in crime and social influences on transgender identity. The Chronicle prints them. He writes that the sort of student who says “fuck you” to professors probably won’t accumulate the grades and recommendations necessary for an elite academic career. The Chronicle prints “fuck you.” “Nature and nurture, baby!” survives. “The importance of not pissing people off” survives. The discussion of academics potentially being punished over views about sex, race, Israel and Gaza survives. Bloom’s own substantive view that some psychological sex differences have evolutionary origins survives. So does his aside that he thinks he is right. The concluding assertion that professors are “in the truth business” and ought not squander tenure by being afraid of whom they “piss off” survives too. So does the psychiatrist and light-bulb joke.
What does The Chronicle do to the title? “Troublemakers” becomes “Braver.” That isn’t obviously safer. In one respect it is morally sharper. “Troublemaker” can be pejorative. “Braver” implies that the problem really is courage. And The Chronicle subsequently put “Why Aren’t Professors Braver?” on the cover of an issue.
The Robert Wright stage does something different again. It does not edit the proposition. It turns it into conversation. A Substack argument becomes a topic Bloom has to defend spontaneously against another intelligent person. That is a different sort of gatekeeping. It is live adversarial testing rather than textual polishing.
The chain is therefore:
private or semiprivate Substack experiment → podcast stress test → public Substack revision → professional publication.
That looks less like an uncontrolled e-personality leaking out than a new intellectual production process.
III. “Why are so many professors conservative?” → “Why Professors Fear the Future”
This is where I finally found something much closer to sanitization. The January 5, 2026 Substack title is deliberately misleading in a playful way. Bloom knows that professors are overwhelmingly politically liberal. His inversion is that academics are “conservative” about changing the institutions from which they benefit.
Nine days later The Chronicle published essentially the same argument as “Why Professors Fear the Future.” It explicitly identifies the essay as a version of the Small Potatoes piece.
The title “Why are so many professors conservative?” invites a reader to misunderstand Bloom for a moment. “Why Professors Fear the Future” tells the reader what the argument is.
That is a reduction in Substack-style bait. There are small lexical edits too. On Substack, Bloom recalls presenting Yale’s MOOC proposal to faculty and says, “I got my ass handed to me.” In The Chronicle it becomes simply, “It did not go well.” On Substack, rejecting “dumbass ideas” isn’t the same as fearing innovation. In The Chronicle they become “dumb ideas.” The hashtag “#NotAllProfessors” becomes “Not all professors, of course.”
Those are exactly the sorts of changes predicted by the e-personality hypothesis. Internet-native diction gets normalized when the argument enters a professional publication. But the effect is selective. “ChatGPT can quickly handle many of the bullshit tasks that fill a professor’s day” survives. “A hell of an extrapolation” survives. “Being a Democrat is weak sauce” survives. His criticism of “Republican radicals” who want to abolish tenure survives. And most important, the big claim survives. Professors really are conservatives in the sense Bloom means. Their radicalism applies to ideas and politics, while their conservatism appears when their own institutional arrangements are threatened.
This gives us the clearest picture yet of the filter. The editor doesn’t remove the provocation. The editor removes some evidence that the writer is enjoying being provocative.
IV. “A lot of developmental psychology isn’t worth doing” → Theory and Society → Two Psychologists Four Beers
This is the most important academic case. The Substack essay appeared July 29, 2024 under “A lot of developmental psychology isn’t worth doing,” with the joking subtitle “Not your studies, of course. Yours are great!” The Substack version is swimming in Bloom persona. He warns that 99 percent of his subscribers won’t care, tells the “civilians” to leave, then announces, “Ok, the civilians are gone. Now it’s just us.”
He describes developmental research as a recipe. He imagines challenging speakers during question periods by asking who cares whether some capacity appears at age three or five and what theory would change depending on the answer. He confesses that this same approach earned publications for him and his students. Finally he admits that he hesitated to publish the post because he wondered, “Why piss people off?”
Then something remarkable happens. Theory and Society publishes “Much of developmental psychology is not worth doing” on October 28, 2024. It is classified as a Brief Communication and runs only five pages.
The journal title is not safer. It is stronger. “A lot of” becomes “Much of.” The comic subtitle disappears, but the indictment remains right in the title.
The abstract is conventionally academic. It speaks of age-comparison studies, theoretical justification, research priorities and developmental mechanisms. Quotations from the published paper reproduced by another researcher show that some of the characteristic Substack rhetoric survives inside the article as well. Thomas Chazelle describes the paper as having a “going for the throat” style and reproduces Bloom’s discussion of the recurrent conference-talk recipe.
That matters. We aren’t just seeing the same abstract proposition re-expressed in disciplinary language. At least some of the conversational attack survives the journal boundary.
Two weeks after the paper appeared, Two Psychologists Four Beers released an episode called “Psychology Worth Doing.” The description says Bloom discusses his recent paper arguing that much developmental psychology is not worth doing. Then, in the same episode, they discuss whether progressive-friendly social-science findings deserve extra skepticism. In other words, two recent Bloom provocations, one that reached Theory and Society and one that reached The Chronicle, are recombined in conversation.
This begins to look like an ecosystem.
V. “Be Right Back” → EconTalk
This one gives us a tight chronology. Bloom published “Be Right Back” on March 25, 2024. Its subtitle called AI simulations of people both “a blessing and an abomination.” Two days later Russ Roberts recorded an EconTalk episode with Bloom. At 1:09 Roberts explicitly says the topic is Bloom’s recent Substack essay and repeats the “blessing and an abomination” formulation. Bloom responds that he likes those two words and their Biblical resonance, then develops the same scenario about AI simulations of living and dead people.
Here there is essentially no de-provocation. The podcast host takes the Substack hook and elevates it into the governing hook of the conversation. What changes is that Bloom now has to answer questions. His thought experiment acquires objections, distinctions and spontaneous qualifications. The medium generates caveats through dialogue rather than editing.
Podcasts look more like ordinary human interaction than written social media. We hear Bloom hesitate, laugh and respond to another person. But the subject has already been selected by the online Paul Bloom.
The Substack persona is supplying the agenda to the apparently less virtual medium.
VI. “The humiliation theory of American politics” → Robert Wright
Bloom published “The humiliation theory of American politics” on January 13, 2025, building an argument around Trump, Obama and the political consequences of humiliation. His January 16 conversation with Robert Wright included a segment called “The humiliation theory of American politics.” When Bloom posted the podcast the following day, he explicitly said they had discussed humiliation, “the topic of my Substack earlier this week.”
Three days from essay to podcast. Small Potatoes is generating talking points for his public appearances.
VII. The AI-companionship sequence is the most important case, but it destroys a simple causal story
This one does not begin on Substack. On December 29, 2023, Trends in Cognitive Sciences published online “In praise of empathic AI,” by Michael Inzlicht, C. Daryl Cameron, Jason D’Cruz and Bloom. They argued that AI could simulate empathy without some human biases and might improve human welfare, while acknowledging serious dangers.
Then Bloom starts worrying at the subject on Small Potatoes. “Showing and sharing” in January 2024 asks what human pleasures of being known, understood and shown things imply for artificial companions. “Be Right Back” in March develops AI substitutions for friends, partners and the dead. In June he publishes “My friend thinks it’s a good idea for us to spend most of our time with AI companions.” Bloom explicitly says it grew out of “Be Right Back.” He recounts trying to tell a friend how dystopian such a world would be, only to discover that he had trouble explaining what was actually wrong with it. That failure becomes the essay. Part II follows a week later and moves from the advantages to the dangers.
Then something happens. Inzlicht and Cameron publish a guest post on Bloom’s own Substack disagreeing with “Paul’s gloomier takes,” despite the fact that Bloom is their coauthor on “In praise of empathic AI.” Bloom continues the exchange with “Get Real” in November. At the end he explains why he is doing this. Writing helps him get his head straight. He wants to continue his dialogue with Inzlicht and Cameron, and he wants a larger audience to read the argument and give him feedback.
That is evidence for Small Potatoes functioning as an intellectual laboratory.
Then comes The New Yorker.
“A.I. Is About to Solve Loneliness. That’s a Problem” appeared in July 2025. The title is pure Bloom inversion. Solving loneliness sounds obviously good. Bloom will argue that success itself creates the danger.
The article starts from “In Praise of Empathic A.I.” and the debate it caused. But it also draws together concerns Bloom had been worrying over on Substack. The need to be understood. The difference between real and simulated companionship. AI’s endless availability. The possibility that a companion designed to satisfy us might make actual humans less attractive. The magazine article then supplies a much stronger organizing proposition. Loneliness may be corrective feedback.
Bloom compares it to hunger and other unpleasant biological signals. Rejection and loneliness hurt partly because that pain pushes us to alter our behavior and make ourselves capable of sustaining human relationships. An AI that perfectly soothes loneliness might interrupt the feedback loop.
That is a synthesis. And Bloom tells us that directly. On the day the article appeared, he wrote that his original proposed structure wasn’t good. He spent weeks discovering that other ideas worked better, repeatedly rethinking and rewriting. He specifically credits Henry Finder for “wise and meticulous editorial work.”
This is the strongest evidence in the whole study for a professional gatekeeper changing Bloom’s thought.
Notice, however, what Finder does not purge. The first person remains. Bloom tells a domestic story about sitting with his wife and two-year-old while neither would speak to him. The inversion remains. The humor remains. The unsettling scenarios remain. Elsewhere in the article even “bullshit” survives.
Bloom has written elsewhere that Finder and other magazine editors sometimes improve both his ideas and his individual sentences. His description is that reading a New Yorker piece under his name can feel like looking in a mirror and seeing a better-looking version of himself.
That is the perfect counterpoint to Aboujaoude. Aboujaoude imagines a more assertive virtual self progressively affecting the offline person. Bloom describes an editor taking the virtual or unedited self and producing a better-looking version of it.
Then the idea moves again. In February 2026, Emily Zohar, Bloom and Inzlicht published “Against frictionless AI” in Communications Psychology. Its argument is that AI’s ability to eliminate effort and unpleasant friction can be harmful precisely because struggle, frustration and corrective feedback can generate learning, meaning and growth. Loneliness is one of the forms of friction in the argument.
But here we need a major control against overclaiming. The authorship statement says Zohar wrote the original draft. Bloom, Zohar and Inzlicht jointly conceptualized the paper and jointly revised it. So we cannot call its prose Bloom’s Substack voice entering scholarly publication. What we can call it is conceptual migration through a collaborative research network.
Then at TED2026, Bloom made the “counterintuitive case” that AI companionship may cure loneliness at a cost. Eleven days later his Robert Wright podcast listed “Paul’s TED talk on AI and loneliness” as a segment.
So this lineage is not: Substack → real intellectual work.
It is: academic collaboration → Substack exploration → reader and colleague criticism → more Substack exploration → New Yorker synthesis → academic collaboration → TED → podcast.
That is a productive feedback loop.
In December 2023 Bloom published “We don’t want moral AI” on Small Potatoes. The subtitle is “What I argued in my New Yorker article (and more).” He explicitly describes it as a shorter, snappier version of the magazine piece with additional speculation suitable for his “small and friendly audience.”
When Bloom moves from professional Bloom to Substack Bloom, he says the new version becomes “shorter and snappier” and permits additional speculation. That is an experimental manipulation of register. It also cautions us against imagining a one-way contamination process. Bloom moves material in both directions. The same individual can take a polished magazine argument and de-formalize it for Substack, then take a Substack argument and professionalize it for The Chronicle.
Across the three direct Small Potatoes → Chronicle pairs, the pattern is consistent. All three retain the core provocative thesis. All three retain substantial first-person material. The politically sensitive examples remain when they are central to the argument. Sweeping field-level or institutional claims remain. Humor remains. Qualifications remain and sometimes become stronger. Even profanity survives surprisingly often. “Bullshit,” “fuck you,” “pissing people off,” “hell of an extrapolation” and “weak sauce” all make it through professional publication somewhere in these three essays.
What reliably disappears? The subscription solicitations disappear. Talk about the process of choosing a title disappears. Hashtag syntax disappears. “Here’s another ending because my mood changed” disappears. References to future Substack posts and “teaser trailers” disappear. Some casual vulgarity is downgraded. Reader-address and comment-section choreography are reduced. Factual claims are occasionally tightened. And the argument becomes more linear. This lets us distinguish three kinds of gatekeeping.
The Chronicle mostly performs subtraction. It strips off the platform furniture while leaving the Paul Bloom argument remarkably intact. The New Yorker performs architecture. It can cause Bloom to discover that his original organizing idea doesn’t work and rebuild the article around a better one. Bloom himself says that happened with the loneliness piece. Podcasts perform stress testing. They take a Substack proposition and force Bloom to defend, modify and elaborate it against another mind in real time.
Scholarly publication performs genre conversion. The developmental-psychology case retains a surprisingly aggressive thesis and some conversational rhetoric, while converting the overall intervention into something citable as a journal contribution. The AI case shows that the resulting scholarship may also be collaborative enough that we should stop talking about a single Bloom “voice.”
Aboujaoude’s original mechanism in Virtually You is still relevant. He argues that the online personality can become bolder and less restrained, and that traits cultivated online may eventually become incorporated into offline behavior. But Bloom requires a revision. The evidence does not show a reckless digital Paul Bloom escaping containment and gradually conquering Professor Bloom. It shows something else. Bloom has created an experimental intellectual self that professional institutions increasingly use as an upstream source.
Small Potatoes supplies ideas quickly. It lets him make the thesis maximally visible. It allows jokes, overstatement, personal confession and rhetorical risk. Comments and paid subscribers supply criticism. Podcasts supply argument. Then editors or scholarly collaborators can select from that material. In other words, the online persona has become R&D.
That is why “seepage” is slightly misleading. Seepage suggests an accidental leak.
Much of this is deliberate transmission.
And one of the biggest surprises in the study is that the professional world apparently wants much of the e-personality. The Chronicle does not take Bloom’s inflammatory essay about academic cowardice and make it bland. It publishes the sex-and-race taboos, the “fuck you,” the “pissing people off,” the jokes and the accusation that professors are timid. It simply removes the part where Bloom tells his Substack readers that he couldn’t decide what to call the essay.
The market value of Bloom’s professional persona may now depend partly on qualities developed or exercised intensively in his online persona.
That brings us back to the trajectory question. The question is no longer whether Small Potatoes is making Bloom’s academic prose sound like Substack. I don’t think the evidence is strong enough for that. The more defensible claim is that Small Potatoes is changing where Bloom’s professional ideas come from, how rapidly he develops them, which of them receive reinforcement, and how they travel. That is a much larger effect than whether he says “bullshit” more often.
There is one particularly elegant causal loop here: Bloom publishes a culture-war essay. The audience rewards it. Bloom notices the reward and publicly worries that he is being rewarded for culture-war writing. The Chronicle notices the same success and immediately republishes the essay. The professional reward therefore confirms the audience reward. That is audience selection pressure operating through two institutions at once.
The result is not capture because Bloom keeps writing conclusions that frustrate the coalitions his titles might attract.
Small Potatoes has become part of the machinery by which Paul Bloom produces intellectual work. The online version of Bloom generates, exaggerates and tests propositions. Podcasts pressure-test them. Professional editors remove the platform performance and tighten the argument. Scholarly collaborators convert some of the ideas into research discourse. The traffic also runs backward, with polished professional work being loosened and extended on Substack.
That vindicates the most interesting part of Aboujaoude. The boundary is dissolving. He describes the danger as online and offline personality progressively becoming difficult to separate. With Bloom, that dissolution is happening at the level of intellectual production.
By 2026, asking whether an idea belongs to “Substack Bloom,” “academic Bloom,” “podcast Bloom” or “magazine Bloom” is the wrong question. It belongs to a Paul Bloom production system in which Small Potatoes has become a central node.