The Proposition
(10 minute read)
Key Takeaways:
- Control your inner life when you cannot control the outer world. You may not get to steer events, politics, or other people—but you always have a say over your own response.
- Refuse to let chaos dictate your character. The world may feel unstable, but that doesn’t mean you have to mirror it. Who you are is still your choice.
- Stand up for the vulnerable—without giving in to hate. You can oppose injustice without becoming harsh or bitter. Courage and decency can live in the same person.
- Be a steady presence in unsteady times. When everything feels unhinged, choose to stay grounded, principled, and compassionate. The real test isn’t the storm around you—it’s the steadiness within you.
In Is Reality Broken? 2 we saw that modern media fragmentation has made it increasingly difficult to sustain a shared sense of reality, which in turn places strain on democratic life. Drawing on authors like de Zengotita and Nichols, we learned that while the human impulse for belonging remains constant, digital platforms now shape how that impulse is expressed—often encouraging performance, polarization, and weakened civic norms. Democracy depends not on perfect agreement, but on a shared factual baseline and a commitment to knowledge and decency that must be actively preserved in a mediated age.
Emotion, Persuasion, and the Examined Life
“The unexamined life is not worth living.” –Socrates
“Despite all of the progress that has come, people are less happy about the state of affairs than they were when things were way tougher and there is a very simple explanation as to why that is.”
“The world is not driven by greed, it is driven by envy.
“The fact that [the majority of people] are five times better off than they used to be, they take it for granted. All they can think about is somebody else has more now and that it isn’t fair.”
–Charles Munger, Vice Chairman, Berkshire Hathaway, CNBC, Dec 11, 2022
Socrates famously warned that “the unexamined life is not worth living.”
Another way to understand his point: when we move through the world governed by others’ expectations—without questioning them or discerning what is truly best for ourselves—we live poorly, even if everything looks fine on the surface. This is where the question of empowerment becomes unavoidable.
Empowerment may be one of the most important ideas today. At its core, it is the sense that we can act, choose, and move something forward. It fuels resilience in difficulty and shifts us from being defined by events to directing ourselves.
For many people, personal empowerment feels almost nonexistent. When nothing they do seems able to change their lives—or the lives of those around them—it’s easy to conclude the system is rigged and the odds permanently stacked against them.
Charles Munger once suggested that the world is driven less by greed than by envy. People may be far better off than previous generations and still feel unsettled when they see someone else with more and decide it isn’t fair.
When empowerment is scarce, that comparison cuts deeper. It isn’t just that others are ahead—it’s that we feel powerless to change our own position.
For the wealthy and elite, empowerment fuels entitlement. The system is rigged in their favor. Politically, one segment of American society feels a surge of empowerment, while another watches its own slip away.
Is Political Reality Broken?
The pull of political power has always shaped American history, but it rarely lasts. There are winners and losers. Winners celebrate; losers step back and prepare for the next vote. It’s a cycle we’ve seen again and again.
In America, there have always been competing visions of what our democracy should look like. We’ve disagreed before—sometimes fiercely—but we rarely questioned whether the system itself would endure. Now, that confidence feels shaken.
It can feel as though we’re no longer the country we once were, or perhaps not yet the country we ought to be. Meanwhile, the other half of the electorate is celebrating its win, asking for recognition and, at times, rubbing it in. Some say “lib tears, let them flow,” and chant “your body, my choice.”
It’s easy to push back against divisive behavior when you know millions of others feel the same frustration. At the same time, loyalty to political parties seems to be fading. Many people don’t feel truly represented or empowered by any of the prevailing ideologies.
This election felt less like a policy debate and more like a test of our democratic institutions. One side challenged long‑standing norms; the other claimed to defend them. For many voters, the choice felt straightforward. Faced with empowering someone who signaled authoritarian instincts from day one, almost any stable alternative seemed preferable.
By a margin of just 1.5%, the electorate chose the authoritarian (more people voted against Trump than voted for him). That narrow result invites a deeper question: what motivated the decisive slice of voters?
For many, the appeal may have been less about specific policy proposals and more about reclaiming a sense of agency. In rejecting what they perceived as an insulated and self‑satisfied elite class, they gravitated toward a figure who promised disruption — even if that disruption came wrapped in norm‑breaking rhetoric.
So, here is what I propose.
The Proposal: Responding with Clarity and Discipline
Those deeply affirmed by the last election are unlikely to linger here. If they began reading, they may have moved on. So if you’re still here, you’re not looking for celebration or outrage. You’re here because you want to make sense of the world you’re living in.
It’s you I have in mind as we move forward. Which leads to the real question: what do we do next?
Many of our fellow citizens—neighbors, friends, even family—make decisions driven more by emotion than evidence. At times, facts seem secondary. So what do we do when those choices work against not only our interests, but theirs as well?
Do we redouble our efforts to educate? Present the facts more clearly? Refine our arguments and offer more data? Point out inconsistencies and hope the weight of evidence persuades? If these approaches have already been tried, we must ask whether more information will change anyone’s mind.
You might assume more effort would eventually succeed. But we may not share the same assumptions or frameworks. If decisions are rooted in identity, emotion, or status, logical appeals rarely gain traction. The problem is not a lack of information, but a difference in what feels persuasive or meaningful.
One possible explanation is that careful deliberation is demanding. Working through competing evidence, uncertainty, and nuance requires effort and patience. By contrast, decisions grounded in feeling can seem more immediate and internally coherent. “I know it is right because I feel it is right.”
Business, Wall Street, politicians, sports franchises, fast food chains—nearly every institution that depends on public support—understand a basic principle: persuasion rarely begins with abstract argument. It begins with feeling. Whether buying a product or embracing an ideology, emotion precedes justification. That dynamic, more than any spreadsheet or policy paper, makes persuasion effective.
That laundry detergent may not make whites dramatically whiter; most products are functionally similar. Yet choosing a brand can create confidence and reassurance. We feel satisfied believing we’re providing the “best” for our family. How does a parent feel buying the “right” soap? That’s the question manufacturers ask when marketing their product.
That car commercial rarely walks through every technical specification. It shows you how it feels to sit behind the wheel. The focus is experience—the sensation of driving, the identity of ownership—more than engineering details. The appeal is emotional; facts play a supporting role.
“It would be ideal if all of us could make up our minds independently by evaluating all pertinent facts objectively. That, however, is not possible.” –Edward Bernays, The Engineering of Consent, 1957
Edward Bernays, nephew of psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud, is often called the “Father of Modern Public Relations.” He did little to discourage—and at times actively promoted—the label. Outliving many contemporaries, he was well positioned to shape the story of his own legacy. The title carries a certain flair for publicity, yet it has been widely adopted in academic and professional circles.
In his later years, Bernays outlined what he considered a practical formula for effective public relations. Drawing on his uncle’s psychological insights, he argued that public opinion could be shaped by appealing to underlying emotions. Emotional currents, he believed, often influenced large groups more powerfully than rational argument alone.
In Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego, Freud examined the psychology of crowds. He challenged the assumption that human beings are primarily rational, arguing instead that much of our behavior is shaped by forces beneath conscious awareness. Unconscious drives and emotional currents, in his view, often exert more influence than deliberate reasoning.
Bernays drew heavily on his uncle’s writings, adapting them for advertising and politics. The principles behind his approach to propaganda and promotion have been studied for decades. Applied to a recent election cycle, they highlight the prominent role emotion appeared to play. For many observers, the campaign showed how powerfully feelings can shape public judgment, at times overshadowing detailed policy analysis.
What To Do?
If emotion shapes what we buy, believe, and defend, it should not surprise us that it also shapes public life. The same currents that move consumers and crowds move citizens. With that in mind, we turn from theory to practice—from understanding persuasion to asking how we ought to respond within it.
I previously wrote about the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius and his “book,” Meditations. In reality, the Meditations were his private journal, never intended for publication. Scholars believe he wrote as a way of recording reflections and reminding himself what mattered most. In doing so, he clarified his priorities and sharpened his focus on what truly counted in life.
He wrote these reflections not in a season of ease, but when his empire was in grave danger. A devastating plague swept through Rome, claiming millions of lives—a toll often compared to the global losses of COVID‑19. As if that were not enough, he also faced a coup attempt by a trusted general. All the while, the Roman Empire showed signs of strain and slow decline.
It was in the midst of this political and social turmoil that he wrote: do not be dissuaded. Do not lose focus. Remain fully human. Hold fast to your compassion for others. Do what is right. Be just and fair — and, above all, do not allow the chaos of the world to corrupt your inner well‑being.
“…don’t let your mind suffer, be distracted, or tossed to and fro …for whatever it is that taunts you will not be there forever.” –Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, First Book, 16
“…no matter what anyone says or does, my task is to be good …no matter what anyone says or does, my task is to be an emerald [in a world of dung].” –Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Seventh Book,15
Aurelius gives little attention to remaking the world. Instead, he focuses on cultivating personal principles that steady the mind and temper the emotions in turbulent times. When the world seems to be losing its bearings, the pressing question becomes: what, realistically, can you and I do?
The first thing we can do is practice living as Marcus Aurelius sought to live. In his darkest hours, he reminded himself: do not let the world’s mayhem infect your well‑being. Countless people have come before us. They endured terrible seasons, surrounded by events far beyond their control. They had little power to alter history—and yet they endured. They carried on.
And you and I can do the same.
If the world seems to be going to hell in a handbasket, you do not have to follow it there. If a social media post from a family member disgusts you, resist the urge to answer disgust with more disgust. We do not ignore injustice—but neither do we allow others to provoke us into returning hate for hate.
Do not apologize for standing with the most vulnerable in our society—those who cannot stand for themselves. Do not apologize for opposing hatred wherever it appears. Trust that we grow better when we treat one another with the dignity each of us deserves. Refuse despair. Do not let the clamor of hatred distract you.
Be a gem in a world that often feels debased. Stay intent on becoming your best self. Let no one dissuade you from learning, growing, and treating others with decency. When cruelty and hatred begin to pass as normal, recognize it as your moment to stand against them. Stand, instead, for justice and love.
“In one respect humans are my proper occupation.
“When people do things contrary to that occupation I will give them little attention. They are no less than the sun, or wind, or a wild beast.
“But I will not allow them to affect my disposition, which I only have the power to change.
“And so that which is a hindrance or an obstacle to my journey only helps me to be more resolved to continue and reach the finish line.”
–Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 5, 20
That neighbor flying the political flag becomes an opportunity to practice virtue. The family member emboldened by a political victory offers another chance. Even angry social media posts can serve as occasions to stand firm in your principles. Each moment invites you to demonstrate courage through fairness and justice.
Is this easy? Of course not. We cannot control other people, media companies, or political parties. We can control only how we respond to them.
The world may feel as though it is going to hell in a handbasket, but our task is not to follow it there. Even as emperor, Marcus Aurelius faced forces he could not control—plagues, betrayal, an empire under strain. Yet he refused to let the chaos of his age dictate the condition of his soul. In much the same way, though our turmoil takes different forms—digital outrage, political division, cultural confusion—the principle remains unchanged.
Our calling is to stand firm for those who cannot stand for themselves. They need us steady. They need us present—sane in an often insane world. And like Marcus, we are measured not by the storms that surround us, but by the steadiness we cultivate within.
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