Hey Joe,
I have fun reading your articles, they remind me of how I used to be when I first got involved with activism work. But I’ve gotten older and seen the horrible things that people can do. I don’t see how people can change. There seems to be so much at stake. You always seem so optimistic. How do you do it? Are you really being realistic?
Had it
Hey Had it,
Believe me, I have my moments when I feel this way. How can you not when you see how we are treating one another and how fixated we are on not yielding on anything? I don’t think I’m very optimistic about where we are headed; I don’t see us resolving our issues any time soon. But I am hopeful for what is possible in the long run. I do have faith in the human spirit.
Alongside all the volatility, the breakdown of all the old structures, a deep shameless and pervasive greed and lack of empathy for others, I also see amongst some a deepening of commitment to our highest values and the care and wellbeing of not only ourselves, but other beings and the planet. More of us are beginning to consider our human-spiritual dimensions and transform them into tangible, practical action. Although we don’t often see it on the news, in newspapers, or on social media, we are in a renewed, creative phase of global unity and inclusivity right now that has been emerging for quite a while.
What gives me hope is that, despite what we may believe, we are and always have been globally interconnected and interdependent. Bridging the gap between a conceptual understanding of our global connection to actually taking action requires acknowledging that our beliefs in our separateness is an inaccurate mental construct. I came to this conclusion after having spent many years training and practicing with teachers in various esoteric studies. I had the desire to gain deeper insight into the true nature of reality and cultivate skills for compassion. But I’d like to share with you one of the more significant lessons in understanding the illusory aspects of our mental constructs of separation that happened when I was still a young boy.
I loved many things as a child, but two of my favorites were maps and cartoons. Studying maps kept me occupied for hours. Growing up at the height of TV culture, I spent hours and hours watching cartoons. In one of the episodes (it could have been Bugs Bunny or Road Runner), one of the characters was chasing the other across the state line. I knew they’d crossed into another state because it was graphically indicated by a thick black line drawn across the entire landscape.
Having seen this episode many times, and also studying maps, I assumed in my young mind that whenever crossing a state border, I’d see a thick black line. I remember clearly the first time my family took a trip from my hometown of New York City to another state. For days, I was excited, anticipating seeing for the first time that thick black line dividing the two states. You can imagine my confusion and disappointment when there wasn’t one!
This began a decades-long contemplation of the illusory nature of how we delineate and label things. I finally understood that a border is simply a person-made set of agreements that would not have existed if the parties involved didn’t make the agreement. In other words, a border only exists because we create a mental construct of it; in reality, it is changeable and not fixed, and if we try to look for concrete proof of its existence, we will never find it.
And yet, think about how many people throughout history have died, or have been enslaved or oppressed, by this phenomenon of “border” that isn’t truly real! Consider the current tragedies playing out in Russia/Ukraine, Israel/Palestinian territories, and China/Taiwan, to name just a few places, and the devastation to people, landmarks, nature and creatures—all motivated by disputes over fabricated labels or definitions.
Of course, it's healthy to categorize and even celebrate what makes us unique. We can acknowledge our differences based on party, race, gender, nation, economic status or culture, but these things don’t imply that we are separate.
It is a continuous practice to first catch myself when I create in my mind the false belief that we are separate and then remind myself of the reality of our global interdependence and interconnectedness. I don’t have to like others to acknowledge our interdependence. I don’t have to see the world the same way they do. But I can soften the rigidity of how I label someone and, by doing so, bridge the gap of our so-called separateness.
Someone you label “stranger” today may actually be the person you end up marrying. Did they change? No, your label of them changed. Someone you consider an “adversary” today may never become your friend, but they may become a useful ally to advance your projects and mission.
So, this is what keeps me grounded and hopeful for a better outcome. The fact that nothing is fixed or concrete and everything has the capacity to transform IS the very core of my hope.
There’s so much more I can say about this, Had it. This is an integral part of my new book, Fierce Civility, if you want to explore more. I hope this offers some insights into how to deal with some of the hopelessness we are confronted with on a daily basis.
In the meantime, thanks for keeping it real,
Joe
Learn more about Joe Weston and his work here. Make sure to c heck out Joe’s bestselling book Fierce Civility: Transforming our Global Culture from Polarization to Lasting Peace, published March 2023.
Have a question for Joe? Send an email to AskJoe@fulcrum.us.
A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.