Facts: Open for Debate

It seems to me, that a fact used to be indisputable. Somewhere along the lines of political discourse in this country, this ceased to be the case. Politicians, experts, and personalities in the media manage not just to cast doubt upon facts and figures which should stand as axiomatic, but they also manage to substantiate claims and viewpoints which should be instantly discredited. Case in point: the global warming argument.

One side of the debate claims that the earth is warming as a result of carbon emissions and other aspects of human civilization. We can see this as evidenced by the rapid melting of polar ice and the increase of average temperature in congruence with industrialization. These are facts, substantiated by science. The other side argues that this winter has been very cold, it is snowing in Washington DC, and thus global warming is a hoax.

Any intelligent person should be able to see how bogus this is.

Imagine that, 100 years ago, there was a debate over whether the Earth revolved around the sun or vice versa. Rockets had not been invented yet, so we could not yet take pictures, and some group of idiots decided to challenge the heliocentric model of the universe, ignoring all the facts and data presented by astronomers. Would we entertain these misguided individuals? Or would we remind them of the facts and disregard their outlandish claims?

An intelligent mind, regardless of their position on the political spectrum, should be able to see which one of these two arguments is sound and which of them does not merit media attention, and yet the 'most trusted names in news' considers this matter open for debate. Instead, the conservative right has adopted these ideas, polarized them politically, and in doing so has tossed out any hope of intelligent discourse.

"Here are the facts that prove global warming."

"Nope. It's warm outside."

"Here are the facts that prove evolution, which effects only government and government run institutions."

"Nope. Bible says God did it. Gotta teach it in schools."

"Here is Obama's birth certificate, announcement in the local paper, and social security number."

"Nope. I'm pretty sure he was born in Kenya."

None of these debates should warrant discussion. You have the right to disagree with anything you please, you have the right to believe whatever you want and practice your religion however you please, but government should not entertain these false arguments. We should instead call them what they are: ignorant lies. Because when we don't, and we allow unsubstantiated claims to make their way into real discourse, we allow Congressmen to walk into the Capitol and lie. They lie about health care, they lie about WMDs, they lie about death panels, and they lie about the economy. And instead of calling them out, decrying their ignorance of facts and quelling their absurd arguments with one fell swoop, intelligence has no other option than to say, "With all respect, I disagree."

A Fable

The Bull

A Fable by Michael Brandon Morales

There was once a rich and prosperous land, whose wealth and prosperity was overseen by a powerful Demigod who took the shape of a Bull. The Demigod was great and terrible to behold, prone to mood swings, but essentially well meaning. There were many rich people in the land, and many poor people in the land, and many people who were just doing fine. This was the way the Bull had evidently allowed things to be, in their natural course. Wise and learned men would serve the Demigod and work closely beside him. They were the priests of the land, and they claimed that they were the ones who knew best how to please the Bull. Of course, no one could help but notice that these men were the richest in all the land, but perhaps that was just the way the Bull wanted it.

Now the poor people would come to the learned men and priests and say, “Tell the Bull to be kind to us, for life is so hard and we have so little.”

But the learned men would reply, “No. We must trust to the Invisible Hand to guide the way of things,” for they said that the Bull possessed an Invisible Hand which guided the market, and kept the balance. You could not see the Invisible Hand at work, and you could not feel it, but you must trust that it was there, guiding things as the Bull saw fit. So when the poor people asked how they could become very rich without seeing the Invisible Hand, the wise men responded, “You must work very hard to become very rich.” And although they said this, they were very rich but did not work very hard.

No, the learned men did not seem to realize it (or perhaps they were very good at lying about it) but they did very little work indeed other than whisper. They would whisper to each other how best to stay rich. They would whisper to the king about how they felt the land should be ruled, and they would whisper to the Demigod so as to guide his Invisible Hand as they willed it. And as they whispered, the rich grew richer, the poor continued to suffer, and the Bull did not say a word.

And then one day, suddenly and without warning—or so it seemed, though there may have been signs—the Bull became angry and his disposition to the land grew sour. He no longer granted them their bountiful harvest and prosperous business, and the land began to fall into disrepair. Some blamed the Demigod’s anger on faceless enemies from across the seas. Some of the rich people blamed those who were poor, and tried to get them to leave and plague some other land and some other people’s demigod with their poverty. Still, others said that this was merely one of the Bull’s more violent mood swings, and that everyone should simply trust to the Invisible Hand to guide them back to prosperity. But the Bull’s anger knew no brevity, and people continued to suffer. The middle classes began to disappear while the number of impoverished people in the land grew every day. And still, no one could help but notice that the rich people stayed fairly rich. In fact, many of them grew even more wealthy, despite the Bull’s apparent displeasure. But perhaps that’s just the way the Bull wanted it.

So for a time, the people trusted that the Invisible Hand would one day save them, the Bull would forgive their trespasses—whatever they were—and all would be well in the land. But as time wore on, the people began to become desperate, and so they sought ways to appease the Bull and return themselves to his good graces, or at least to ease their suffering while he was upset. They gave the Bull burnt offerings, great sacrifices bought at the expense of the poor and middle classes, in hopes that he would take their generosity as a sign of good faith and return to them, but he did not. They appealed to the wise and learned men who said that they must have simply misunderstood the Bull and his divine intentions. The king lowered taxes in hopes that people would not be so poor, but the poor somehow stayed without money, the rich became a little richer, and the country continued to sink into disrepair. So they borrowed money from other lands and other demigods, but this only seemed to anger the Bull and dissuade him from any thoughts he had of returning. The wise and learned men and the sages of the land bound together with strange forms of voodoo magic designed to make gold from gold and have wealth multiply itself. While their smoke and mirrors did manufacture more wealth, none of this seemed to find it’s way into the hands of the poor. The sages simply congratulated themselves on their wisdom and poured each other glasses of fine wine. And meanwhile, the rich stayed rich, and the poor grew in number. And continued to suffer.

Without money, and with no end in sight to the Bull’s foul mood, the people became reclusive. After all, with the Bull in so foul a temper, they could only worry about themselves and their own families. That was hard enough. People would say things like, “Oh, I hope the Bull returns to his old self soon,” but this was just a polite way of saying “I wish I could be rich again.”

Finally, there arose in the land a great Knight. He was wise and brave, and even those who were not from his town adored him for the marvelous hope he inspired. He spoke to crowds about how they all deserved the chance to be in the Bull’s good graces again. And although much of what he said was truly wonderful, people did not seem to listen to what he said, merely to the fact that he was speaking. The Knight was so skilled in rhetoric, so brave and so full of life, that they said, “Let us make this man our king! Perhaps then the Bull will not be mad, and our land will be rich and prosperous again!”

And so it was. The Knight was crowned the new king of the land and promised he would do everything he could to appease the Bull. When he sat on his throne, and when the people were at last truly listening, he gathered the wise men, the poor men, the rich men, and all people in between to him. They asked him, “What can we do so that the Bull will be happy again? So that our harvest will be bountiful, our land prosperous, and our lives full?”

“It is quite simple,” the Knight said. “You must learn to help each other.”

Now this was strange advice, the people thought. What could he mean by that? “But what of the Invisible Hand?” the learned men asked the Knight who was now their king. “We have trusted it for years. We cannot turn our back on the Invisible Hand now. The Bull will be angry and never return!”

“There is no such thing as the Invisible Hand,” the Knight said sternly. “You have only been using it to make yourselves wealthy while letting every one else suffer.” Now, while these words had a ring of truth to them, the rich were upset for they had been accused of lying, and the poor were confused for the wise men had always taught them that these words are heresy. They all looked at the Knight with newfound skepticism.

“These are not new lessons I am telling you,” the Knight continued. “If you have two loaves of bread and your neighbor has none, you must share with him and his family. If a man asks for your shirt, be prepared to offer your cloak as well. In turn, you must learn to respect the people of other lands, and the demigods who watch over them. Then, they will be more inclined to loan you loaves of bread when you have none, and offer you their cloaks when you ask for a shirt. If you—nay, we—if we learn how to do these things, the Bull will not be angry for you are kind, your harvests will be bountiful for you are sharing, and your land will be prosperous for you are as well.”

It was then that the rich, who were so expertly skilled at whispering, leaned close into their new king’s ear and whispered, “But if we forget about the Invisible Hand, and do all the things you say, we will not be so rich anymore!”

“Ah, that is true,” the Knight said gravely. “But you will only be a little less rich. And the poor will be not be poor at all!”

That is when they decried the King as a heretic, and cut off his head.

The End