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My life changed in February of 1993. It began with an early morning phone call from a fellow student at our private Evangelical Christian college. I was informed that our mutual friend Tim had fallen asleep while driving home from a ski trip. He’d been critically injured in a terrible accident and was now lying unconscious in an Ohio hospital. Though it was over 100 miles away and we had class that morning, we left immediately.

Arriving, we were advised to prepare ourselves before seeing him. We tried, but how can one do so? We walked in and recoiled at what was left of our friend. Others came. We took turns praying over our dying friend after being assured by our spiritual leader that, if we prayed hard enough and believed, Tim would be healed.

Hovering over his body, we began our prayer. We held hands as we closed our eyes, me taking Tim’s left hand as we pleaded for a miracle. Tim lifted my hand in the air about six inches as we did so! I opened my eyes in wonderment, and considered interrupting the prayer, but chose to wait and show them. As soon as our leader said “Amen,” and everyone opened their eyes, Tim’s strength left and my hand fell with his.

If he was brain dead, how could he lift my hand?

Unsure what had happened, I told the others about Tim lifting my hand. It was unanimously agreed that God was communicating with me through Tim. It was such a fantastic coincidence that it could only be attributed to divine intervention. We asked ourselves, “If he was brain dead, how could he lift my hand?” And why, if not to send a message from God, did he do so at the precise moments our prayer began and ended?

A doctor examined Tim and told his parents their son’s pupils were not responding to light, he was brain dead, and his body was shutting down. He respectfully advised them that they needed to prepare themselves for his death. The most devout among us corrected the good doctor, assuring him (and me, specifically) that Tim would rise again. The doctor kindly responded, “No. He has one foot in the grave.” Our leader countermanded him, reminding us “Jesus had two feet in the grave.” I believed our leader.

Tim passed away three days later, as the doctor predicted he would. Our leader rationalized Tim’s death (and the false assurances that he would be healed) as having been God’s will. We convinced ourselves that Tim, as a fellow believer, was now rejoicing in heaven, where we would meet him when our time came. I adopted Tim’s hand raising my own into my testimony as I turned my life around.

My dying friend’s disinhibited spinal cord told him to raise his hand.

Over the years I’ve come to accept that my life-changing miracle of a hand-raising while brain dead was, in actuality, explainable. The kind doctor who tried to prepare Tim’s parents probably knew exactly why Tim lifted my hand, and he knew it wasn’t from divine intervention. My dying friend’s disinhibited spinal cord told him to raise his hand. My hand was lifted by a “reflex arc”—a residual signal passing through a neural pathway in Tim’s spinal column and not, crucially, through his (no longer registering) brain.1, 2 Neither Tim nor the Holy Spirit was responsible.

Photo by Aarón Blanco Tejedor / Unsplash

Raising one’s limbs, in reality, is common for those experiencing brain death.3 First reported in 1974, “brain death-associated reflexes and automatisms” are frequent enough to have gained a moniker, “the Lazarus Sign.”4 People experiencing brain death have been recorded doing much more than raising another’s hand too, including hugging motions for up to 30 seconds, rapidly jerking all four limbs for up to eight inches, and symmetric movement of both arms.5

Raising one’s limbs, in reality, is common for those experiencing brain death.

There is another seemingly inexplicable facet to the story, though: If raising my hand can be explained naturally, what then of the incredible coincidence that my hand was raised and lowered at the same moment when the group prayer began and ended?

Swiss psychologist Carl Jung might describe my experience as an example of “synchronicity,” i.e., an acausal connecting principle.6 According to Jung and his adherents, science cannot offer a reasonable causal connection to explain why a brain-dead man lifted my hand at the exact moment a prayer began and dropped it at the exact moment the prayer ended.7 Jung adherents claim the odds are so improbable that the connection must be cosmic.8

Interpreting Tim’s act of lifting my hand as a ‘miracle’ was the result of my creative license, probability, and desire to find meaning.

But science can explain the coincidence. My profound coincidence was causal. Interpreting Tim’s act of lifting my hand at a certain moment as a “miracle” was the result of my creative license, probability, and desire to find a pattern and meaning through trauma. In fact, research through the years has revealed much about the phenomena of coincidence. This can be illustrated through a skeptical examination of seemingly much more widely known coincidences: A list of eerie comparisons between the assassinations of Abraham Lincoln and John F. Kennedy. The first of these lists appeared in the year following Kennedy’s assassination in a GOP newsletter and typically include the following:9

• “Lincoln” and “Kennedy” each have seven letters.
• Both presidents were elected to Congress in ’46 and later to the presidency in ’60.
• Both assassins, John Wilkes Booth and Lee Harvey Oswald, were born in ’39 and were known by their three names, which were composed of fifteen letters.
• Both presidents were succeeded by southerners named Johnson. • Booth ran from a theater and was caught in a warehouse; Oswald ran from a warehouse and was caught in a theater.
• Oswald and Booth were killed before they could be put on trial.

And so on…10

How Coincidences Work1. Creative License and the Role of Context

First, the likelihood of noticing one becomes more flexible when defining what counts as a coincidence.11 Given enough creative license and disregarding context,12 one can find coincidences in any two events. Let us look, for example, at the two other assassinations, those of James A. Garfield and William McKinley. Both “Garfield” and “McKinley” have eight letters, both were Ohioans, both served as officers in the Civil War on the same side, both were shot twice in the torso, and both of their successors were from New York state.

Creative license is also used to justify such coincidences: Booth ran from a theater and was caught in a warehouse; Oswald ran from a warehouse and was caught in a theater. Booth did run from Ford’s Theater, and Oswald was indeed apprehended in a movie house called “The Texas Theater.”13 John Wilkes Booth did not, however, get caught in a warehouse. A federal soldier named Boston Corbett shot him from outside a burning tobacco barn in Bowling Green, VA, on April 26, 1865. Booth was dragged out still alive and died later that day.14

Our brains are wired to create order from chaos.

Creative license is also used in, Both presidents were elected to Congress in ’46 and later to the presidency in ’60. The apostrophe preceding each numbered year omits the glaring inconsistency that Lincoln and Kennedy were elected to these offices 100 years apart from each other. In context, the “coincidence” doesn’t seem so incredible.

2. Probability

Coincidences are counterintuitive. Consider the probability found in three of the Lincoln and Kennedy coincidences:

Both presidents were elected to Congress in ’46 and later to the presidency in ’60. We only elect our representatives to Congress every two years, and a president every four years. This omits all odd-numbered years.

Both presidents were succeeded by southerners named Johnson. “Johnson” is second only to “Smith” as the most common surname in the U.S.15 Both northern presidents (Lincoln was from Illinois, Kennedy from Massachusetts) needed a southerner to balance the ticket. In the years following the American Civil War, it wasn’t until 1992 that a ticket with two southerners (Clinton and Gore) won the presidency.16

Oswald and Booth were killed before they could be put on trial.17 Booth and Oswald were the subjects of nationwide manhunts and unprecedented vitriol. It is little wonder they were murdered before their trials.

Being elected in years that end in the same two digits, having a successor with a popular surname, and an assassin who was killed before being brought to trial are not at all impossible; indeed, they are relatively probable.

3. Looking for Meaning

Science has shown us that people who describe themselves as religious or spiritual (that is, those seeking meaning and those searching for signs) are more likely to experience coincidences.18 Our brains are wired to create order from chaos,19 and the days following each presidential assassination were overwhelmingly chaotic. The country was shocked when Presidents Lincoln and Kennedy were assassinated, and it seemed just too simple that such inspiring leaders could be shot down by two relative nobodies who would otherwise be forgotten by history.

Photo by Alexei Scutari / UnsplashWas my experience with my dying friend a divine sign? Was it acausal? Probably not.

But both tragic events were really that simple. John Wilkes Booth shot Lincoln while the president was watching Our American Cousin in Ford’s Theater in Washington, DC.20 Lee Harvey Oswald shot John F. Kennedy from the sixth-floor window of the Texas School Book Depository in Dallas.21

Applying Creative License, Probability, and Looking for Meaning to My Profound Coincidence

Let us now return to my profound coincidence. I used creative license in accepting Tim raising my hand as miraculous. I was desperately looking for any sign that he could communicate with me and took it as such. The probability of my friend dying young in a car accident doesn’t defy probability at all. The National Safety Council reports that 6,400 Americans die annually from falling asleep while driving.22 Tim raising one of our hands is probable, too. Movement of the body from residual spinal activity has been found in up to a third of those suffering from brain death.23 During my time with Tim at the hospital, I was surrounded by Evangelicals who assured me of my friend’s resurrection. Being confronted with the unexpected loss of a loved one heightened my emotions. I was more susceptible to believing in miracles than in my normal, rational state.

Was my experience with my dying friend a divine sign? Was it acausal? Probably not. Science has shown me the spiritual “meaning” I once attributed to Tim raising my hand was, in reality, meaningless. As years have gone by, I still stay in touch with a few of my friends who surrounded Tim. We are middle-aged now, with children of our own. Sometimes we remember Tim together. And that’s enough.

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Many think of Vatican City only as the seat of governance for the world’s 1.3 billion Roman Catholics. Atheist critics view it as a capitalist holding company with special privileges. However, that postage-stamp parcel of land in the center of Rome is also a sovereign nation. It has diplomatic embassies—so-called apostolic nunciatures—in over 180 countries, and has permanent observer status at the United Nations.

Only by knowing the history of the Vatican’s sovereign status is it possible to understand how radically different it is compared to other countries. For over 2,000 years the Vatican has been a nonhereditary monarchy. Whoever is Pope is its supreme leader, vested with sole decision-making authority over all religious and temporal matters. There is no legislature, judiciary, or any system of checks and balances. Even the worst of Popes—and there have been some truly terrible ones—are sacrosanct. There has never been a coup, a forced resignation, or a verifiable murder of a Pope. In 2013, Pope Benedict became the first pope to resign in 600 years. Problems of cognitive decline get swept under the rug. In its unchecked power of a single man, the Vatican is closest in its governance style to a handful of absolute monarchies such as Saudi Arabia, Brunei, Oman, Qatar, and the UAE. 

During the Renaissance, Popes were feared rivals to Europe’s most powerful monarchies.

From the 8th century until 1870 the Vatican was a semifeudal secular empire called the Papal States that controlled most of central Italy. During the Renaissance, Popes were feared rivals to Europe’s most powerful monarchies. Popes believed God had put them on earth to reign over all other worldly rulers. The Popes of the Middle Ages had an entourage of nearly a thousand servants and hundreds of clerics and lay deputies. That so-called Curia—referring to the court of a Roman emperor—became a Ladon-like network of intrigue and deceit composed largely of (supposedly) celibate single men who lived and worked together at the same time they competed for influence with the Pope. 

The cost of running the Papal States, while maintaining one of Europe’s grandest courts, kept the Vatican under constant financial strain. Although it collected taxes and fees, had sales of produce from its agriculturally rich northern region, and rents from its properties throughout Europe, it was still always strapped for cash. The church turned to selling so-called indulgences, a sixth-century invention whereby the faithful paid for a piece of paper that promised that God would forgo any earthly punishment for the buyer’s sins. The early church’s penances were often severe, including flogging, imprisonment, or even death. Although some indulgences were free, the best ones—promising the most redemption for the gravest sins—were expensive. The Vatican set prices according to the severity of the sin.

The Church had to twice borrow from the Rothschilds.

All the while, the concept of a budget or financial planning was anathema to a succession of Popes. The humiliating low point came when the Church had to twice borrow from the Rothschilds, Europe’s preeminent Jewish banking dynasty. James de Rothschild, head of the family’s Paris-based headquarters, became the official Papal banker. By the time the family bailed out the Vatican, it had only been thirty-five years since the destabilizing aftershocks from the French Revolution had led to the easing of harsh, discriminatory laws against Jews in Western Europe. It was then that Mayer Amschel, the Rothschild family patriarch, had walked out of the Frankfurt ghetto with his five sons and established a fledgling bank. Little wonder the Rothschilds sparked such envy. By the time Pope Gregory asked for the first loan they had created the world’s biggest bank, ten times larger than their closest rival. 

The Vatican’s institutional resistance to capitalism was a leftover of Middle Age ideologies, a belief that the church alone was empowered by God to fight Mammon, a satanic deity of greed. Its ban on usury—earning interest on money loaned or invested—was based on a literal biblical interpretation. The Vatican distrusted capitalism since it thought secular activists used it as a wedge to separate the church from an integrated role with the state. In some countries, the “capitalist bourgeoisie”—as the Vatican dubbed it—had even confiscated church land for public use. Also fueling the resistance to modern finances was the view that capitalism was mostly the province of Jews. Church leaders may not have liked the Rothschilds, but they did like their cash. 

The Church’s sixteen thousand square miles was reduced to a tiny parcel of land.

In 1870, the Vatican lost its earthly empire overnight when Rome fell to the nationalists who were fighting to unify Italy under a single government. The Church’s sixteen thousand square miles was reduced to a tiny parcel of land. The loss of its Papal States income meant the church was teetering on the verge of bankruptcy. 

St. Peter's Basilica, Vatican City, Rome (Photograph by Bernd Marx)

The Vatican survived going forward on something called Peter’s Pence, a fundraising practice that had been popular a thousand years earlier with the Saxons in England (and later banned by Henry VIII when he broke with Rome and declared himself head of the Church of England). The Vatican pleaded with Catholics worldwide to contribute money to support the Pope, who had declared himself a prisoner inside the Vatican and refused to recognize the new Italian government’s sovereignty over the Church. 

During the nearly 60-year stalemate that followed, the Vatican’s insular and mostly incompetent financial management kept it under tremendous pressure. The Vatican would have gone bankrupt if Mussolini had not saved it. Il Duce, Italy’s fascist leader, was no fan of the Church, but he was enough of a political realist to know that 98 percent of Italians were Catholics. In 1929, the Vatican and the Fascist government executed the Lateran Pacts. It gave the Church the most power since the height of its temporal kingdom. It set aside 108.7 acres as Vatican City and fifty-two scattered “heritage” properties as an autonomous neutral state. It reinstated Papal sovereignty and ended the Pope’s boycott of the Italian state. 

The settlement—worth about $1.6 billion in 2025 dollars—was approximately a third of Italy’s entire annual budget.

The Lateran Pacts declared the Pope was “sacred and inviolable,” the equivalent of a secular monarch, and acknowledged he was invested with divine rights. A new Code of Canon Law made Catholic religious education obligatory in state schools. Cardinals were invested with the same rights as princes by blood. All church holidays became state holidays and priests were exempted from military and jury duty. A three-article financial convention granted “ecclesiastical corporations” full tax exemptions. It also compensated the Vatican for the confiscation of the Papal States with 750 million lire in cash and a billion lire in government bonds that paid 5 percent interest. The settlement—worth about $1.6 billion in 2024 dollars—was approximately a third of Italy’s entire annual budget and a desperately needed lifeline for the cash-starved church. 

Satirical depiction of Pope Pius XI and Benito Mussolini during the Lateran Treaty negotiations. (Illustration by Erich Schilling, for the cover of Simplicissimus magazine, March 1929.)

Pius XI, the Pope who struck the deal with Mussolini, was savvy enough to know that he and his fellow cardinals needed help managing the enormous windfall. He therefore brought in a lay outside advisor, Bernardino Nogara, a devout Catholic with a reputation as a financial wizard. 

Nogara took little time in upending hundreds of years of tradition. He ordered, for instance, that every Vatican department produce annual budgets and issue monthly income and expense statements. The Curia bristled when he persuaded Pius to cut employee salaries by 15 percent. And after the 1929 stock market crash, Nogara made investments in blue-chip American companies whose stock prices had plummeted. He also bought prime London real estate at fire-sale prices. As tensions mounted in the 1930s, Nogara further diversified the Vatican’s holdings in international banks, U.S. government bonds, manufacturing companies, and electric utilities. 

Only seven months before the start of World War II, the church got a new Pope, Pius XII, one who had a special affection for Germany (he had been the Papal Nuncio—ambassador—to Germany). Nogara warned that the outbreak of war would greatly test the financial empire he had so carefully crafted over a decade. When the hot war began in September 1939, Nogara realized he had to do more than shuffle the Vatican’s hard assets to safe havens. He knew that beyond the military battlefield, governments fought wars by waging a broad economic battle to defeat the enemy. The Axis powers and the Allies imposed a series of draconian decrees restricting many international business deals, banning trading with the enemy, prohibiting the sale of critical natural resources, and freezing the bank accounts and assets of enemy nationals. 

The United States was the most aggressive, searching for countries, companies, and foreign nationals who did any business with enemy nations. Under President Franklin Roosevelt’s direction, the Treasury Department created a so-called blacklist. By June 1941 (six months before Pearl Harbor and America’s official entry into the war), the blacklist included not only the obvious belligerents such as Germany and Italy, but also neutral nations such as Switzerland, and the tiny principalities of Monaco, San Marino, Liechtenstein, and Andorra. Only the Vatican and Turkey were spared. The Vatican was the only European country that proclaimed neutrality that was not placed on the blacklist. 

There was a furious debate inside the Treasury department about whether Nogara’s shuffling and masking of holding companies in multiple European and South American banking jurisdictions was sufficient to blacklist the Vatican. It was only a matter of time, concluded Nogara, until the Vatican was sanctioned. 

The Vatican Bank could operate anywhere worldwide, did not pay taxes … disclose balance sheets, or account to any shareholders.

Every financial transaction left a paper trail through the central banks of the Allies. Nogara needed to conduct Vatican business in secret. The June 27, 1942, formation of the Istituto per le Opere di Religione (IOR)—the Vatican Bank—was heaven sent. Nogara drafted a chirograph (a handwritten declaration), a six-point charter for the bank, and Pius signed it. Since its only branch was inside Vatican City—which, again, was not on any blacklist—the IOR was free of any wartime regulations. The IOR was a mix between a traditional bank like J. P. Morgan and a central bank such as the Federal Reserve. The Vatican Bank could operate anywhere worldwide, did not pay taxes, did not have to show a profit, produce annual reports, disclose balance sheets, or account to any shareholders. Located in a former dungeon in the Torrione di Nicoló V (Tower of Nicholas V), it certainly did not look like any other bank. 

The Vatican Bank was created as an autonomous institution with no corporate or ecclesiastical ties to any other church division or lay agency. Its only shareholder was the Pope. Nogara ran it subject only to Pius’s veto. Its charter allowed it “to take charge of, and to administer, capital assets destined for religious agencies.” Nogara interpreted that liberally to mean that the IOR could accept deposits of cash, real estate, or stock shares (that expanded later during the war to include patent royalty and reinsurance policy payments). 

Many nervous Europeans were desperate for a wartime haven for their money. Rich Italians, in particular, were anxious to get cash out of the country. Mussolini had decreed the death penalty for anyone exporting lire from Italian banks. Of the six countries that bordered Italy, the Vatican was the only sovereignty not subject to Italy’s border checks. The formation of the Vatican Bank meant Italians needed only a willing cleric to deposit their suitcases of cash without leaving any paper trail. And unlike other sovereign banks, the IOR was free of any independent audits. It was required—supposedly to streamline recordkeeping—to destroy all its files every decade (a practice it followed until 2000). The IOR left virtually nothing by which postwar investigators could determine if it was a conduit for shuffling wartime plunder, held accounts, or money that should be repatriated to victims. 

The Vatican immediately dropped off the radar of U.S. and British financial investigators.

The IOR’s creation meant the Vatican immediately dropped off the radar of U.S. and British financial investigators. It allowed Nogara to invest in both the Allies and the Axis powers. As I discovered in research for my 2015 book about church finances, God’s Bankers: A History of Money and Power at the Vatican, Nogara’s most successful wartime investment was in German and Italian insurance companies. The Vatican earned outsized profits when those companies escheated the life insurance policies of Jews sent to the death camps and converted the cash value of the policies. 

After the war, the Vatican claimed it had never invested or made money from Nazi Germany or Fascist Italy. All its wartime investments and money movements were hidden by Nogara’s impenetrable Byzantine offshore network. The only proof of what happened was in the Vatican Bank archives, sealed to this day. (I have written opinion pieces in The New York Times, Washington Post, and Los Angeles Times, calling on the church to open its wartime Vatican Bank files for inspection. The Church has ignored those entreaties.) 

Its ironclad secrecy made it a popular postwar offshore tax haven for wealthy Italians wanting to avoid income taxes.

While the Vatican Bank was indispensable to the church’s enormous wartime profits, the very features—no transparency or oversight, no checks and balances, no adherence to international banking best practices—became its weakness going forward. Its ironclad secrecy made it a popular postwar offshore tax haven for wealthy Italians wanting to avoid income taxes. Mafia dons cultivated friendships with senior clergy and used them to open IOR accounts under fake names. Nogara retired in the 1950s. The laymen who had been his aides were not nearly as clever or imaginative as was he. It opened the Vatican Bank to the influence of lay bankers. One, Michele Sindona, was dubbed by the press as “God’s Banker” in the mid-1960s for the tremendous influence and deal making he had with the Vatican Bank. Sindona was a flamboyant banker whose investment schemes always pushed against the letter of the law. (Years later he would be convicted of massive financial fraud and murder of a prosecutor and would himself be killed in an Italian prison.) 

Exacerbating the bad effect of Sindona directing church investments, the Pope’s pick to run the Vatican Bank in the 1970s was a loyal monsignor, Chicago-born Paul Marcinkus. The problem was that Marcinkus knew almost nothing about finances or running a bank. He later told a reporter that when he got the news that he would oversee the Vatican Bank, he visited several banks in New York and Chicago and picked up tips. “That was it. What kind of training you need?” He also bought some books about international banking and business. One senior Vatican Bank official worried that Marcinkus “couldn’t even read a balance sheet.” 

Marcinkus allowed the Vatican Bank to become more enmeshed with Sindona, and later another fast-talking banker, Roberto Calvi. Like Sindona, Calvi would also later be on the run from a host of financial crimes and frauds, but he never got convicted. He was instead found hanging in 1982 under London’s Blackfriars Bridge. 

“You can’t run the church on Hail Marys.” —Vatican Bank head Paul Marcinkus, defending the Bank’s secretive practices in the 1980s.

By the 1980s the Vatican Bank had become a partner in questionable ventures in offshore havens from Panama and the Bahamas to Liechtenstein, Luxembourg, and Switzerland. When one cleric asked Marcinkus why there was so much mystery about the Vatican Bank, Marcinkus dismissed him saying, “You can’t run the church on Hail Marys.” 

All the secret deals came apart in the early 1980s when Italy and the U.S. opened criminal investigations on Marcinkus. Italy indicted him but the Vatican refused to extradite him, allowing Marcinkus instead to remain in Vatican City. The standoff ended when all the criminal charges were dismissed and the church paid a stunning $244 million as a “voluntary contribution” to acknowledge its “moral involvement” with the enormous bank fraud in Italy. (Marcinkus returned a few years later to America where he lived out his final years at a small parish in Sun City, Arizona.) 

Throughout the 1990s and into the early 2000s, the Vatican Bank remained an offshore bank in the heart of Rome.

It would be reasonable to expect that after having allowed itself to be used by a host of fraudsters and criminals, the Vatican Bank cleaned up its act. It did not, however. Although the Pope talked a lot about reforms, it kept the same secret operations, expanding even into massive offshore deposits disguised as fake charities. The combination of lots of money, much of it in cash, and no oversight, again proved a volatile mixture. Throughout the 1990s and into the early 2000s, the Vatican Bank remained an offshore bank in the heart of Rome. It was increasingly used by Italy’s top politicians, including prime ministers, as a slush fund for everything from buying gifts for mistresses to paying off political foes. 

Italy’s tabloids, and a book in 2009 by a top investigative journalist Gianluigi Nuzzi, exposed much of the latest round of Vatican Bank mischief. It was not, however, the public shaming of “Vatileaks” that led to any substantive reforms in the way the Church ran its finances. Many top clerics knew that as a 2,000-year-old institution, if they waited patiently for the public outrage to subside, the Vatican Bank could soon resume its shady dealings. 

In 2000, the Church signed a monetary convention with the European Union by which it could issue its own euro coins.

What changed everything in the way the Church runs its finances came unexpectedly in a decision about a common currency—the euro—that at the time seemed unrelated to the Vatican Bank. Italy stopped using the lira as its currency and adopted the euro in 1999. That initially created a quandary for the Vatican, which had always used the lira as its currency. The Vatican debated whether to issue its own currency or to adopt the euro. In December 2000, the church signed a monetary convention with the European Union by which it could issue its own euro coins (distinctively stamped with Città del Vaticano) as well as commemorative coins that it marked up substantially to sell to collectors. Significantly, that agreement did not bind the Vatican, or two other non-EU nations that had accepted the euro—Monaco and Andorra—to abide by strict European statutes regarding money laundering, antiterrorism financing, fraud, and counterfeiting. 

A Vatican 50 Euro Cent Coin, issued in 2016

What the Vatican did not expect was that the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD), a 34-nation economics and trade group that tracks openness in the sharing of tax information between countries, had at the same time begun investigating tax havens. Those nations that shared financial data and had in place adequate safeguards against money laundering were put on a so-called white list. Those that had not acted but promised to do so were slotted onto the OECD’s gray list, and those resistant to reforming their banking secrecy laws were relegated to its blacklist. The OECD could not force the Vatican to cooperate since it was not a member of the European Union. However, placement on the blacklist would cripple the Church’s ability to do business with all other banking jurisdictions. 

The biggest stumbling block to real reform is that all power is still vested in a single man.

In December 2009, the Vatican reluctantly signed a new Monetary Convention with the EU and promised to work toward compliance with Europe’s money laundering and antiterrorism laws. It took a year before the Pope issued a first ever decree outlawing money laundering. The most historic change took place in 2012 when the church allowed European regulators from Brussels to examine the Vatican Bank’s books. There were just over 33,000 accounts and some $8.3 billion in assets. The Vatican Bank was not compliant on half of the EU’s forty-five recommendations. It had done enough, however, to avoid being placed on the blacklist. 

In its 2017 evaluation of the Vatican Bank, the EU regulators noted the Vatican had made significant progress in fighting money laundering and the financing of terrorism. Still, changing the DNA of the finances of the Vatican has proven incredibly difficult. When a reformer, Argentina’s Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio, became Pope Francis in 2013, he endorsed a wide-ranging financial reorganization that would make the church more transparent and bring it in line with internationally accepted financial standards and practices. Most notable was that Francis created a powerful financial oversight division and put Australian Cardinal George Pell in charge. Then Pell had to resign and return to Australia where he was convicted of child sex offenses in 2018. By 2021, the Vatican began the largest financial corruption trial in its history, even including the indictment of a cardinal for the first time. The case floundered, however, and ultimately revealed that the Vatican’s longstanding self-dealing and financial favoritism had continued almost unabated under Francis’s reign. 

Photo by Ashwin Vaswani / Unsplash

It seems that for every step forward, somehow, the Vatican manages to move backwards when it comes to money and good governance. For those of us who study it, while it is a more compliant and normal member of the international community today than at any time in its past, the biggest stumbling block to real reform is that all power is still vested in a single man that the Church considers the Vicar of Christ on earth. 

The Catholic Church considers the reigning pope to be infallible when speaking ex cathedra (literally “from the chair,” that is, issuing an official declaration) on matters of faith and morals. However, not even the most faithful Catholics believe that every Pope gets it right when it comes to running the Church’s sovereign government. No reform appears on the horizon that would democratize the Vatican. Short of that, it is likely there will be future financial and power scandals, as the Vatican struggles to become a compliant member of the international community.

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Japan’s culture of childlike innocence, vulnerability, and playfulness has a downside.

Dogs dressed up in bonnets. Diamond-studded iPhone cases shaped like unicorns. Donut-shaped purses. Hello Kitty shoes, credit cards, engine oil, and staplers. My Little Pony capsule hotel rooms. Pikachu parades. Hedgehog cafes. Pink construction trucks plastered with cartoon eyes. Miniature everything. Emojis everywhere. What is going on here?

Top left to right: Astro Boy, Hello Kitty credit card, Hello Kitty backpack, SoftBank’s Pepper robot, Pikachu Parade, Hello Kitty hat, film still from Ponyo by Studio Ghibli

Such merch, and more, are a manifestation of Japan’s kawaii culture of innocence, youthfulness, vulnerability, playfulness, and other childlike qualities. Placed in certain contexts, however, it can also underscore a darker reality—a particular denial of adulthood through a willful indulgence in naïveté, commercialization, and escapism. Kawaii can be joyful and happy, but it is also a way to avoid confronting the realities of real life.

The roots of kawaii can be traced back to Japan’s Heian (“peace” or “tranquility”) period (794–1185 CE), a time when aristocrats appreciated delicate and endearing aesthetics in literature, art, and fashion.1 During the Edo period (1603–1868 CE), art and culture began to emphasize aesthetics, beauty, and playfulness.2 Woodblock prints (ukiyo-e) often depicted cute and whimsical characters.3 The modern iteration of kawaii began to take shape during the student protests of the late 1960s,4 particularly against the backdrop of the rigid culture of post-World War II Japan. In acts of defiance against academic authority, university students boycotted lectures and turned to children’s manga—a type of comic or graphic novel—as a critique of traditional educational norms.5

Kawaii can be joyful and happy, but it is also a way to avoid confronting the realities of real life.

After World War II, Japan experienced significant social and economic changes. The emerging youth culture of the 1960s and 1970s began to embrace Western influences, leading to a blend of traditional Japanese aesthetics with Western pop culture.6 During the economic boom of the 1970s and 1980s, consumer subcultures flourished, and the aesthetic of cuteness found expression in playful handwriting, speech patterns, fashion, products, and themed spaces like cafes and shops. The release of Astro Boy (Tetsuwan Atomu) in 1952, created by Osamu Tezuka, is regarded by scholars as a key moment in the development of kawaii culture.7 The character’s large eyes, innocent look, and adventurous spirit resonated with both children and adults, setting the stage for the rise of other kawaii characters in popular culture. Simultaneously, as Japanese women gained more prominence in the workforce, the “burikko” archetype8—an innocent, childlike woman—became popular. This persona, exuding charm and nonthreatening femininity, was seen as enhancing her desirability in a marriage-centric society.9

Left to right: burikko handwriting, bento box, Kumamon mascot

Another catalyst for kawaii culture was the 1970’s emergence of burikko handwriting among teenage girls.10 It was this playful, childlike, rounded style of writing that included hearts, stars, and cartoonish doodles. To the chagrin of educators, it became a symbol of youthful rebellion and a break from rigid societal expectations.

Japanese culture is deeply rooted in tradition, with strict social norms governing behavior and appearance. If you drop something, it’s common to see people rush to retrieve it for you. Even at an empty intersection with no car in sight, a red light will rarely be ignored. Business cards are exchanged with a sense of deference, and social hierarchies are meticulously observed. Conformity is highly valued, while femininity is often dismissed as frivolous. Against this backdrop, the emergence of kawaii can be seen as an act of quiet resistance.

The rise of shōjo (girls’) manga in the 1970s introduced cute characters with large eyes and soft rounded faces with childlike features, popularizing the kawaii aesthetic among young girls.11 Then, in 1974, along came Sanrio’s Hello Kitty,12 commercializing and popularizing kawaii culture beyond Japan’s borders. While it started as a product range for children, it soon became popular with teens and adults alike.

Kawaii characters like Hello Kitty are often depicted in a simplistic style, with oversized eyes and minimal facial expressions. This design invites people to project their own feelings and emotions onto the characters. As a playful touch, Hello Kitty has no mouth—ensuring she’ll never reveal your secrets!

By the 1980s and 1990s, kawaii had permeated stationery, toys, fashion, digital communications, games, and beyond. Franchises like Pokémon, anime series such as Sailor Moon, and the whimsical works of Studio Ghibli exported a sense of childlike wonder and playfulness to audiences across the globe. Even banks and airlines embraced cuteness as a strategy to attract customers, as did major brands like Nissan, Mitsubishi, Sony, and Nintendo. What may have begun as an organic expression of individuality was quickly commodified by industry.

Construction sites, for example, frequently feature barricades shaped like cartoon animals or flowers, softening the visual impact of urban development.13 They also display signs with bowing figures apologizing for any inconvenience. These elements are designed to create a sense of comfort for those passing by. Similarly, government campaigns use mascots like Kumamon,14 a cuddly bear, to promote tourism or public health initiatives. Japanese companies and government agencies use cute mascots, referred to as Yuru-chara, to create a friendly image and foster a sense of connection. You’ll even find them in otherwise harsh environments like high security prisons, the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, and, well, the Japanese Sewage Association uses them too.15

Kawaii aesthetics have also appeared in high-tech domains. Robots designed for elder care, such as SoftBank’s Pepper,16 often adopt kawaii traits to appear less intimidating and foster emotional connections. In the culinary world, bento boxes featuring elaborately arranged food in cute and delightful shapes have become a creative art form, combining practicality with aesthetic pleasure—and turning ordinary lunches into whimsical and joyful experiences.

Sanrio Puroland (website)

Kawaii hasn’t stayed confined to Japan’s borders. It has become popular in other countries like South Korea, and had a large influence in the West as well. It has become a global representation of Japan, so much so that it helps draw in tourism, particularly to the Harajuku district in Tokyo and theme parks like Sanrio Puroland. In 2008, Hello Kitty was even named as Japan’s official tourism ambassador.17

The influence of kawaii extends beyond tourism. Taiwanese airline EVA Air celebrated Hello Kitty’s 40th birthday with a special edition Boeing 777-300ER, featuring Hello Kitty-themed designs, menus, and crew uniforms on its Paris-Taipei route.18 Even the Vatican couldn’t resist the power of cute: In its appeal to younger generations, it introduced Luce, a cheerful young girl with big eyes, blue hair, and a yellow raincoat, as the mascot for the 2025 Jubilee Year and the Vatican’s pavilion at Expo 2025.19

Taiwanese airline EVA Air celebrated Hello Kitty’s 40th birthday with a special edition Boeing 777-300ER, featuring Hello Kitty- themed designs, menus, and crew uniforms on its Paris–Taipei route.

Could anime and kawaii culture become vehicles for Catholicism? Writing for UnHerd, Katherine Dee suggests that Luce represents a global strategy to transcend cultural barriers in ways that traditional symbols, like the rosary, cannot. She points out that while Europe’s Catholic population has been shrinking, the global Catholic community continues to grow by millions.20 But while Luce may bring more attention to the Vatican, can she truly inspire deeper connections to God or spirituality?

All that said, the bigger question remains: Why does anyone find any of this appealing or cute?

One answer comes from the cultural theorist Sianne Ngai, who said that there’s a “surprisingly wide spectrum of feelings, ranging from tenderness to aggression, that we harbor toward ostensibly subordinate and unthreatening commodities.”21 That’s a fancy way of saying that humans find babies cute, a discovery that, in fact, was awarded the 1973 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine to the Austrian zoologist and ethologist Konrad Lorenz for his research on the “baby schema”22 (or Kindchenschema), to explain how and why certain infantile facial and physical traits are seen as cute. These features include an overly large head, rounded forehead, large eyes, and protruding cheeks.23 Lorenz argued that this is so because such features trigger a biological response within us—a desire to nurture and protect because we view them as proxies for vulnerability. The more such features, the more we are wired to care for those who embody them.24 Simply put, when these traits are projected onto characters or art or products, it promotes the same kind of response in us as seeing a baby.

Modern research validates Lorenz’s theory. A 2008 brain imaging study showed that viewing infant faces, but not adult ones, triggered a response in the orbitofrontal cortex linked to reward processing.25 Another brain imaging study conducted at Washington University School of Medicine26 investigated how different levels of “baby schema” in infant faces—characteristics like big eyes and round cheeks—affect brain activity. Researchers discovered that viewing baby-like features activates the nucleus accumbens, a key part of the brain’s reward system responsible for processing pleasure and motivation. This effect was observed in women who had never had children. The researchers concluded that this activation of the brain’s reward system is the neurophysiological mechanism that triggers caregiving behavior.

A very different type of study,27 conducted in 2019, further confirmed that seeing baby-like features triggers a strong emotional reaction. In this case, the reaction is known as “kama muta,” a Sanskrit term that describes the feeling of being deeply moved or touched by love. This sensation is often accompanied by warmth, nostalgia, or even patriotism. The researchers found that videos featuring cute subjects evoked significantly more kama muta than those without such characteristics. Moreover, when the cute subjects were shown “interacting affectionately,” the feeling of kama muta was even stronger compared to when the subjects were not engaging in affectionate behavior.

In 2012, Osaka University professor Hiroshi Nittono led a research study that found that “cuteness” has an impact on observers, increasing their focus and attention.28 It also speaks to our instinct to nurture and protect that which appears vulnerable—which cute things, with their more infantilized traits, do. After all, who doesn’t love Baby Yoda? Perhaps that’s why some of us are so drawn to purchase stuffed dolls of Eeyore—it makes us feel as if we are rescuing him. When we see something particularly cute, many of us feel compelled to buy it. Likewise, it’s possible, at least subconsciously, that those who engage in cosplay around kawaii do so out of a deeper need to feel protected themselves. Research shows that viewing cute images improves moods and is associated with relaxation.29

Kawaii may well be useful in our fast-paced and stressful lives. For starters, when we find objects cute or adorable, we tend to treat them better and give them greater care. There’s also a contagious happiness effect. Indeed, could introducing more kawaii into our environments make people happier? Might it encourage us to care more for each other and our communities? The kawaii aesthetic could even be used in traditionally serious spaces—like a doctor’s waiting room or emergency room—to help reduce anxiety. Instead of staring at a blank ceiling in the dentist’s chair, imagine looking up at a whimsical kawaii mural instead.

Consider also the Tamagotchi digital pet trend of the 1990s. Children were obsessed with taking care of this virtual pet, tending to its needs ranging from food to entertainment. Millions of these “pets” were sold and were highly sought after. There’s something inherently appealing to children about mimicking adult roles, especially when it comes to caregiving. It turns out that children don’t just want to be cared for by their parents—they also seem to have an innate desire to nurture others. This act of caregiving can make them feel capable, empowered, and useful, tapping into a deep sense of responsibility and connection.

At Chuo University in Tokyo, there’s an entire new field of “cute studies” founded by Dr. Joshua Dale, whose book summarizes his research: Irresistible: How Cuteness Wired our Brains and Changed the World.30 According to Dale, there are four traditional and aesthetic values of Japanese culture that contributed to the rise of kawaii: (1) valuing the diminutive, (2) treasuring the transient, (3) preference for simplicity, and (4) appreciating the playful and transient.31 His work emphasizes how kawaii is not just about cuteness, but in fact expresses a deeply rooted cultural philosophy that reflects Japanese views on beauty, life, and emotional expression.

The “cult of cute” can lead people to seek refuge from responsibility and avoid confronting uncomfortable emotions.

In other words, there’s something about kawaii that goes beyond a style or a trend. It is a reflection of deeper societal values and emotional needs. In a society that has such rigid hierarchies, social structures, decorum, and an intense work culture, kawaii provides a form of escapism—offering a respite from the harsh realities of adulthood and a return to childlike innocence. It is a safe form of vulnerability. Yet, does it also hint at an inability to confront the realities of life?

The “cult of cute” can lead people to seek refuge from responsibility and avoid confronting uncomfortable emotions. By surrounding themselves with cuteness and positivity, they may be trying to shield themselves from darker feelings and worries. In some cases, people even adapt their own personal aesthetics to appear cuter, as this can make them seem more innocent and in need of help—effectively turning cuteness into a protective layer.

Kawaii also perpetuates infantilization, particularly among women who feel pressured to conform to kawaii aesthetics, which often places them in a submissive role. This is especially evident in subgenres like Lolita fashion—a highly detailed, feminine, and elegant style inspired by Victorian and Rococo fashion, but with a modern and whimsical twist. While this style is adopted by many women with the female gaze in mind, the male gaze remains inescapable.

Japanese Lolita fashion

As a result, certain elements of kawaii can sometimes veer into the sexual, both intentionally and as an unintended distortion of innocence. Maid cafes, for example, though not designed to be sexually explicit, often carry sexual undertones that undermine their seemingly innocent and cute appeal. In these cafes, maids wear form-fitting uniforms and play into fantasies of servitude and submission—particularly when customers are addressed as “masters” and flirtatious interactions are encouraged.

It’s important to remember that things that look sweet and cute can also be sinister. The concept of “cute” often evokes feelings of trust, affection, and vulnerability, which can paradoxically make it a powerful tool for manipulation, subversion, and even control. Can kawaii be a Trojan horse?

When used in marketing to sell products, it may seem harmless, but how much of the rational consumer decision-making process does it override? And what evil lurks behind all the sparkle? In America, cuteness manifests itself even more boldly and aggressively. One designer, Lisa Frank, built an entire empire in the 1980s and 1990s on vibrant, neon colors and whimsical artwork featuring rainbow-colored animals, dolphins, glitter, and images of unicorns on stickers, adorning backpacks and other merchandise. Her work is closely associated with a sense of nostalgia for millennials who grew up in that era. Yet, as later discovered and recently recalled in the Amazon documentary, “Glitter and Greed: The Lisa Frank Story,” avarice ultimately led to a toxic work environment, poor working conditions, and alleged abuse.

Worse, can kawaii be used to mask authoritarian intentions or erase the memory of serious crimes against humanity?

As Japan gained prominence in global culture, its World War II and earlier atrocities have been largely overshadowed, causing many to overlook these grave historical events.32 When we think of Japan today, we often think of cultural exports like anime, manga, Sanrio, geishas, and Nintendo. Even though Japan was once an imperial power, today it exercises “soft power” in the sociopolitical sphere. This concept, introduced by American political scientist Joseph Nye,33 refers to influencing others by promoting a nation’s culture and values to make foreign audiences more receptive to its perspectives.

Deep down, we harbor anxieties about how technology might impact our lives or what could happen if it begins to operate independently. By designing robots to look cute and friendly, we tend to assuage such fear and discomfort.

Japan began leveraging this strategy in the 1980s to rehabilitate its tarnished postwar reputation, especially in the face of widespread anti-Japanese sentiment in neighboring Asian nations. Over time, these attitudes shifted as Japan used “kawaii culture” and other forms of pop-culture diplomacy to reshape its image and move beyond its violent, imperialist past.

Kawaii also serves as a way to neutralize our fears by transforming things we might typically find unsettling into endearing and approachable forms—think Casper the Friendly Ghost or Monsters, Inc. This principle extends to emerging technologies, such as robots. Deep down, we harbor anxieties about how technology might impact our lives or what could happen if it begins to operate independently. By designing robots to look cute and friendly, we tend to assuage such fear and discomfort. Embedding frightening concepts with qualities that evoke happiness or safety allows us to navigate the interplay between darkness and light, innocence and danger, in a more approachable way. In essence, it’s a coping mechanism for our primal fears.

An interesting aspect of this is what psychologists call the uncanny valley—a feeling of discomfort that arises when something is almost humanlike, but not quite. Horror filmmakers have exploited this phenomenon by weaponizing cuteness against their audiences with characters like the Gremlins and the doll Chucky. The dissonance between a sweet appearance and sinister intent creates a chilling effect that heightens the horror.

When we embrace kawaii, are we truly finding joy, or are we surrendering to an illusion of comfort in an otherwise chaotic world?

Ultimately, all this speaks to the multitude of layers to kawaii. It is more than an aesthetic; it’s a cultural phenomenon with layers of meaning, and it reflects both societal values and emotional needs. Its ability to evoke warmth and innocence can also be a means of emotional manipulation. It can serve as an unassuming guise for darker intentions or meanings. It can be a medium for individual expression, and yet simultaneously it has been commodified and overtaken by consumerism. It can be an authentic expression, yet mass production has also made it a symbol of artifice. It’s a way to embrace the innocent and joyful, yet it can also be used to avoid facing the harsher realities of adulthood. When we embrace kawaii, are we truly finding joy, or are we surrendering to an illusion of comfort in an otherwise chaotic world?

It’s worth asking whether the prevalence of kawaii in public and private spaces reflects a universal desire for escapism or if it serves as a tool to maintain conformity and compliance. Perhaps, at its core, kawaii holds up a mirror to society’s collective vulnerabilities—highlighting not just what we nurture, but also what we are willing to overlook for the sake of cuteness.

This article was originally published in Skeptic in 1997.

Presented here for the first time are the complete texts of two letters that Einstein wrote regarding his lack of belief in a personal god.

Just over a century ago, near the beginning of his intellectual life, the young Albert Einstein became a skeptic. He states so on the first page of his Autobiographical Notes (1949, pp. 3–5):

Thus I came—despite the fact I was the son of entirely irreligious (Jewish) parents—to a deep religiosity, which, however, found an abrupt ending at the age of 12. Through the reading of popular scientific books I soon reached the conviction that much in the stories of the Bible could not be true. The consequence was a positively fanatic [orgy of] freethinking coupled with the impression that youth is intentionally being deceived… Suspicion against every kind of authority grew out of this experience, a skeptical attitude … which has never left me….

We all know Albert Einstein as the most famous scientist of the 20th century, and many know him as a great humanist. Some have also viewed him as religious. Indeed, in Einstein’s writings there is well-known reference to God and discussion of religion (1949, 1954). Although Einstein stated he was religious and that he believed in God, it was in his own specialized sense that he used these terms. Many are aware that Einstein was not religious in the conventional sense, but it will come as a surprise to some to learn that Einstein clearly identified himself as an atheist and as an agnostic. If one understands how Einstein used the terms religion, God, atheism, and agnosticism, it is clear that he was consistent in his beliefs.

Part of the popular picture of Einstein’s God and religion comes from his well-known statements, such as:

“God is cunning but He is not malicious.” (Also: “God is subtle but he is not bloody-minded.” Or: “God is slick, but he ain’t mean.”) (1946)“God does not play dice.” (On many occasions.)“I want to know how God created the world. I am not interested in this or that phenomenon, in the spectrum of this or that element. I want to know His thoughts, the rest are details.” (Unknown date.)

It is easy to see how some got the idea that Einstein was expressing a close relationship with a personal god, but it is more accurate to say he was simply expressing his ideas and beliefs about the universe.

Figure 1

Einstein’s “belief” in Spinoza’s God is one of his most widely quoted statements. But quoted out of context, like so many of these statements, it is misleading at best. It all started when Boston’s Cardinal O’Connel attacked Einstein and the General Theory of Relativity and warned the youth that the theory “cloaked the ghastly apparition of atheism” and “befogged speculation, producing universal doubt about God and His creation” (Clark, 1971, 413–414). Einstein had already experienced heavier duty attacks against his theory in the form of anti-Semitic mass meetings in Germany, and he initially ignored the Cardinal’s attack. Shortly thereafter though, on April 24, 1929, Rabbi Herbert Goldstein of New York cabled Einstein to ask: “Do you believe in God?” (Sommerfeld, 1949, 103). Einstein’s return message is the famous statement:

“I believe in Spinoza’s God who reveals himself in the orderly harmony of what exists, not in a God who concerns himself with fates and actions of human beings” (103). The Rabbi, who was intent on defending Einstein against the Cardinal, interpreted Einstein’s statement in his own way when writing:

Spinoza, who is called the God-intoxicated man, and who saw God manifest in all nature, certainly could not be called an atheist. Furthermore, Einstein points to a unity. Einstein’s theory if carried out to its logical conclusion would bring to mankind a scientific formula for monotheism. He does away with all thought of dualism or pluralism. There can be no room for any aspect of polytheism. This latter thought may have caused the Cardinal to speak out. Let us call a spade a spade (Clark, 1971, 414).

Both the Rabbi and the Cardinal would have done well to note Einstein’s remark, of 1921, to Archbishop Davidson in a similar context about science: “It makes no difference. It is purely abstract science” (413).

The American physicist Steven Weinberg (1992), in critiquing Einstein’s “Spinoza’s God” statement, noted: “But what possible difference does it make to anyone if we use the word “God” in place of “order” or “harmony,” except perhaps to avoid the accusation of having no God?” Weinberg certainly has a valid point, but we should also forgive Einstein for being a product of his times, for his poetic sense, and for his cosmic religious view regarding such things as the order and harmony of the universe.

But what, at bottom, was Einstein’s belief? The long answer exists in Einstein’s essays on religion and science as given in his Ideas and Opinions (1954), his Autobiographical Notes (1949), and other works. What about a short answer?

In the Summer of 1945, just before the bombs of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Einstein wrote a short letter stating his position as an atheist (Figure 1, above). Ensign Guy H. Raner had written Einstein from mid-Pacific requesting a clarification on the beliefs of the world famous scientist (Figure 2, below). Four years later Raner again wrote Einstein for further clarification and asked “Some people might interpret (your letter) to mean that to a Jesuit priest, anyone not a Roman Catholic is an atheist, and that you are in fact an orthodox Jew, or a Deist, or something else. Did you mean to leave room for such an interpretation, or are you from the viewpoint of the dictionary an atheist; i.e., “one who disbelieves in the existence of a God, or a Supreme Being?” Einstein’s response is shown in Figure 3.

Figure 2

Combining key elements from the first and second response from Einstein there is little doubt as to his position:

From the viewpoint of a Jesuit priest I am, of course, and have always been an atheist…. I have repeatedly said that in my opinion the idea of a personal God is a childlike one. You may call me an agnostic, but I do not share the crusading spirit of the professional atheist whose fervor is mostly due to a painful act of liberation from the fetters of religious indoctrination received in youth. I prefer an attitude of humility corresponding to the weakness of our intellectual understanding of nature and of our being.

I was fortunate to meet Guy Raner, by chance, at a humanist dinner in late 1994, at which time he told me of the Einstein letters. Raner lives in Chatsworth, California and has retired after a long teaching career. The Einstein letters, a treasured possession for most of his life, were sold in December, 1994, to a firm that deals in historical documents (Profiles in History, Beverly Hills, CA). Five years ago a very brief letter (Raner & Lerner, 1992) describing the correspondence was published in Nature. But the two Einstein letters have remained largely unknown.

“I have repeatedly said that in my opinion the idea of a personal God is a childlike one.” —Einstein

Curiously enough, the wonderful and well-known biography Albert Einstein, Creator and Rebel, by Banesh Hoffmann (1972) does quote from Einstein’s 1945 letter to Raner. But maddeningly, although Hoffmann quotes most of the letter (194–195), he leaves out Einstein’s statement: “From the viewpoint of a Jesuit Priest I am, of course, and have always been an atheist.”!

Hoffmann’s biography was written with the collaboration of Einstein’s secretary, Helen Dukas. Could she have played a part in eliminating this important sentence, or was it Hoffmann’s wish? I do not know. However, Freeman Dyson (1996) notes “…that Helen wanted the world to see, the Einstein of legend, the friend of school children and impoverished students, the gently ironic philosopher, the Einstein without violent feelings and tragic mistakes.” Dyson also notes that he thought Dukas “…profoundly wrong in trying to hide the true Einstein from the world.” Perhaps her well-intentioned protectionism included the elimination of Einstein as atheist.

Figure 3

Although not a favorite of physicists, Einstein, The Life and Times, by the professional biographer Ronald W. Clark (1971), contains one of the best summaries on Einstein’s God: “However, Einstein’s God was not the God of most men. When he wrote of religion, as he often did in middle and later life, he tended to … clothe with different names what to many ordinary mortals—and to most Jews—looked like a variant of simple agnosticism….This was belief enough. It grew early and rooted deep. Only later was it dignified by the title of cosmic religion, a phrase which gave plausible respectability to the views of a man who did not believe in a life after death and who felt that if virtue paid off in the earthly one, then this was the result of cause and effect rather than celestial reward. Einstein’s God thus stood for an orderly system obeying rules which could be discovered by those who had the courage, the imagination, and the persistence to go on searching for them” (19).

Einstein continued to search, even to the last days of his 76 years, but his search was not for the God of Abraham or Moses. His search was for the order and harmony of the world.

Bibliography

• Dyson, F. 1996. Forward In The Quotable Einstein (Calaprice, Alice, Ed. ) Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press. 1996. (Note: The section “On Religion, God, and Philosophy” is perhaps the best brief source to present the range and depth of Einstein’s views.)
• Einstein, A. 1929. quoted in Sommerfeld (see below). 1949. Also as Telegram to a Jewish Newspaper, 1929; Einstein Archive Number 33–272.
• ___. 1946 and of unknown date. In Einstein, A Centenary Volume. (A. P. French, Ed.) Cambridge: Harvard Univ Press. 1979. 32, 73, & 67.
• ___. 1959 (1949). “Autobiographical Notes.” In Albert Einstein, Philosopher–Scientist. (Paul Arthur Schilpp, Ed.) New York: Harper & Bros.
• ___. 1950. Letter to M. Berkowitz, October 25,1950; Einstein Archive Number 59–215.
• ___. 1954. Ideas and Opinions. New York: Crown Pub.
• ___. on many occasions. In Albert Einstein, Creator and Rebel. (B. Hoffmann with the collaboration of Helen Dukas.) New York: The Viking Press.
• Hoffmann, B. (collaboration with Helen Dukas). 1972. Albert Einstein, Creator and Rebel. New York: The Viking Press.
• Raner, G.H. & Lerner, L. S. “Einstein’s Beliefs.” Nature, 358:102.
• Sommerfeld, A. 1949. “To Albert Einstein’s 70th Birthday.” In Albert Einstein, Philospher–Scientist. (Paul Arthur Schilpp, Ed.) New York: Harper & Bros. 1959. 99–105.
• Weinberg, S. 1992. Dreams of a Final Theory. New York: Pantheon Books. 245.

Many of our preconceived notions about immigrants likely bear very little resemblance to the facts.

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Tariff policy has been a contentious issue since the founding of the United States. Hamilton clashed with Jefferson and Madison over tariff policy in the 1790s, South Carolina threatened to secede from the union over tariff policy in 1832, and the Hawley-Smoot tariff generated outrage in 1930. Currently, Trump is sparking heated debates about his tariff policies. 

To understand the ongoing tariff debate, it is essential to grasp the basics: Tariffs are taxes levied by governments on imported goods. They have been the central focus of U.S. trade policy since the federal government was established in 1789. Historically, tariffs have been used to raise government revenue, protect domestic industries, and influence the trade policies of other nations. The history of U.S. tariffs can be understood in three periods corresponding with these three uses. 

From 1790 until the Civil War in 1861, tariffs primarily served as a source of federal revenue, accounting for about 90 percent of government income (since 2000, however, tariffs have generated less than 2 percent of the federal government’s income).1 Both the Union and the Confederacy enacted income taxes to help finance the Civil War. After the war, public resistance to income taxes grew, and Congress repealed the federal income tax in 1872. Later, when Congress attempted to reinstate an income tax in 1894, the Supreme Court struck it down in Pollock v. Farmers’ Loan & Trust Co. (1895), ruling it unconstitutional. To resolve this issue, the Sixteenth Amendment was ratified in 1913, granting Congress the authority to levy income taxes. Since then, federal income taxes have provided a much larger source of revenue than tariffs, allowing for greater federal government expenditures. The shift away from tariffs as the primary revenue source began during the Civil War and was further accelerated by World War I, which required large increases in federal spending.

The 16th Amendment was ratified in 1913, granting Congress the authority to levy income taxes.

Before the Civil War, the North and South had conflicting views on tariffs. The North, with its large manufacturing base, wanted higher tariffs to protect domestic industries from foreign competition. This protection would decrease the amount of competition Northern manufacturers faced, allowing them to charge higher prices and encounter less risk of being pushed out of business by more efficient foreign producers. By contrast, the South, with an economy rooted in agricultural exports (especially cotton) favored low tariffs, as they benefited from cheaper imported manufactured goods. These imports were largely financed by selling Southern cotton, produced by enslaved labor, to foreign markets, particularly Great Britain. The North-South tariff divide eventually led to the era of protective tariffs (1860-1934) after the Civil War, when the victorious North gained political power, and protectionist policies dominated U.S. trade.

For more than half a century after the Civil War, U.S. trade policy was dominated by high protectionist tariffs. Republican William McKinley, a strong advocate of high tariffs, won the presidency in 1896 with support from industrial interests. Between 1861 and the early 1930s, average tariff rates on dutiable imports rose to around 50 percent and stayed elevated for decades. As a point of comparison, average tariffs had declined to about 5 percent by the early 21st century. 

Republicans passed the Hawley-Smoot Tariff in 1930, which coincided with the Great Depression. While it is generally agreed among economists that the Hawley-Smoot Tariff did not cause the Great Depression, it further hurt the world economy during the economic downturn (though many observers at the time thought that it was responsible for the global economic collapse). The widely disliked Hawley-Smoot Tariff, along with the catastrophic effects of the Great Depression, allowed the Democrats to gain political control of both Congress and the Presidency in 1932. They passed the Reciprocal Trade Agreements Act (RTAA) in 1934, which gave the president the power to negotiate reciprocal trade agreements. 

The RTAA transitioned some of the power over trade policy, i.e., tariffs, away from Congress and to the President. Whereas the constituencies of specific members of Congress are in certain regions of the U.S., the entire country can vote in Presidential elections. For that reason, regional producers generally have less political power over the President than they do over their specific members of Congress, and therefore the President tends to be less responsive to their interests and more responsive to the interests of consumers and exporters located across the nation. Since consumers and exporters generally benefit from lower tariffs, the President has an incentive to decrease them. Thus, the RTAA contributed to the U.S. lowering tariff barriers around the world. This marked the beginning of the era of reciprocity in U.S. tariff policy (1934-2025) in which the U.S. has generally sought to reduce tariffs worldwide.

World War II and its consequences also pushed the U.S. into the era of reciprocity. The European countries, which had been some of the United States’ strongest economic competitors, were decimated after two World Wars in 30 years. Exports from Europe declined and the U.S. shifted even more toward exporting after the Second World War. As more U.S. firms became larger exporters, their political power was aimed at lowering tariffs rather than raising them. (Domestic companies that compete with imports have an interest in lobbying for higher tariffs, but exporting companies have the opposite interest.)

The World Trade Organization (WTO) was founded in 1995. Photo © WTO.

The end of WWII left the U.S. concerned that yet another World War could erupt if economic conditions were unfavorable around the world. America also sought increased trade to stave off the spread of Communism during the Cold War. These geopolitical motivations led the U.S. to seek increased trade with non-Communist nations, which was partially accomplished by decreasing tariffs. This trend culminated in the creation of the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) in 1947, which was then superseded by the World Trade Organization (WTO) in 1995. These successive organizations helped reduce tariffs and other international trade barriers.

Although there is a strong consensus among economists that tariffs do more harm than good,2,3,4 there are some potential benefits of specific tariff policies.

Pros

1. National Security: In his 1776 classic The Wealth of Nations, Adam Smith acknowledged that trade restrictions could be justified when used to protect industries essential to national defense. In times of war, a nation's wealth is secondary to its security, and tariffs can protect essential industries. However, it is often challenging to determine which industries are truly vital for defense, and some firms have exploited this argument to gain protection, even when their goods are not crucial to national security. 
2. Negotiating Tool: Tariffs can also provide leverage in negotiations. For example, in early 2025, President Trump threatened Mexico and Canada with tariffs, but then (temporarily as it turns out) removed the threat once they agreed to address the flow of fentanyl into the U.S. However, this tactic is a dangerous game. For the threat of tariffs to work, the nations you are negotiating with must believe you are willing to impose the tariffs you are threatening. This can lead to a difficult decision wherein you either have to back down from your threat and lose reputation, or follow through and impose the tariffs even though you do not want to.
3. Protection of Infant Industries: It is possible that imposing tariffs on specific goods can foster the growth of developing industries that would not have been able to grow in the environment of foreign competition that existed without tariff protection. It is also possible that these protected industries could create more wealth for the nation once they are grown than would have been generated in the no-tariff scenario. Most economists argue that there is not much historical evidence of this occurring. Although the infant industry argument is possible, it relies on the assumption that the government can effectively identify which firms are going to prosper and bring greater economic benefits than would be accrued due to free trade. The government not only has to identify which infant industries to protect, but it also must have the appropriate incentives and mechanisms to carry out the protection. In reality, no one can consistently identify the appropriate infant industries to support.
4. Revenue: Tariffs can raise revenue for the government, but they are not capable of funding the current levels of government spending for many developed nations.

The “Chicken War” of the 1960s was a trade dispute between the United States and the European Economic Community (EEC), triggered by the EEC’s introduction of tariffs on imported chicken to protect its domestic poultry industry, leading to US retaliatory tariffs on trucks and other goods. Graphic courtesy of the Library of Congress.Cons

1. Economic Inefficiency: Let us imagine a scenario where person A and person B are trading with each other. The government then imposes a tax on the purchase of person B’s goods. Both person A and B are affected because person A must pay more for person B’s goods and person B cannot sell as many goods to person A. The same logic applies to tariffs. This is the process by which tariffs distort markets and lead to deadweight economic loss. Often, people assume that tariffs help the imposing country and hurt the country forced to pay them. This is incorrect. Tariffs hurt both countries, as both persons A and B are harmed due to the loss of economic efficiency. In addition, protectionist tariffs shelter domestic industries from competition, thereby allowing them to be less efficient. Lessened efficiency leads to poorer quality products and higher prices. Lastly, tariffs can disrupt supply chains that span multiple countries. For example, US tariffs on Chinese goods increased costs for American manufacturers that rely on parts imported from China.5 Disrupting supply chains also leads to economic inefficiency.
2. Higher Prices for Consumers: In our thought experiment above, person A must pay more for person B’s goods after the tariff is imposed. This is how tariffs raise prices for domestic consumers.
3. Trade Wars: Tariffs can spark trade wars that end up greatly decreasing the amount of trade across nations. When country A imposes tariffs on country B, country B may react by imposing counter-tariffs on country A. This causes an expanding cycle that leads to further decreases in trade and economic efficiency. A well-known example is the “Chicken War” in the 1960s, in which the U.S. imposed a 25% tariff on light trucks from Western Europe, which is still in place today.
4. Corruption: Once tariffs are enacted, they are politically difficult to remove. The costs of tariffs are thinly spread over millions of Americans, whereas the benefits are concentrated in a comparatively small number of people involved in specific industries. This makes the beneficiaries more politically motivated to maintain the tariffs than the general populace is to resist them, leading to long-lasting tariffs that aid a powerful few while harming the public.

Although tariffs have some theoretical benefits in specific situations, the competence and incentives of the U.S. political system often do not allow these benefits to come to fruition. Tariffs almost always come with the cost of economic inefficiency, which is why economists generally agree that tariffs do more harm than good. Does the increase in U.S. tariffs, particularly on China, since 2016 mark the end of the era of reciprocity or is it just a blip? The answer will affect the economic well-being of Americans and people around the world. 

The history of tariffs described in this article is largely based on Clashing Over Commerce by Douglas Irwin (2017).

The author would like to thank Professor John L. Turner at the University of Georgia for his invaluable input.

Throughout the early modern period—from the rise of the nation state through the nineteenth century—the predominant economic ideology of the Western world was mercantilism, or the belief that nations compete for a fixed amount of wealth in a zero-sum game: the +X gain of one nation means the –X loss of another nation, with the +X and –X summing to zero. The belief at the time was that in order for a nation to become wealthy, its government must run the economy from the top down through strict regulation of foreign and domestic trade, enforced monopolies, regulated trade guilds, subsidized colonies, accumulation of bullion and other precious metals, and countless other forms of economic intervention, all to the end of producing a “favorable balance of trade.” Favorable, that is, for one nation over another nation. As President Donald Trump often repeats, “they’re ripping us off!” That is classic mercantilism and economic nationalism speaking.

Adam Smith famously debunked mercantilism in his 1776 treatise An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations. Smith’s case against mercantilism is both moral and practical. It is moral, he argued, because: “To prohibit a great people…from making all that they can of every part of their own produce, or from employing their stock and industry in the way that they judge most advantageous to themselves, is a manifest violation of the most sacred rights of mankind.”1 It is practical, he showed, because: “Whenever the law has attempted to regulate the wages of workmen, it has always been rather to lower them than to raise them.”2

Producers and Consumers

Adam Smith’s The Wealth of Nations was one long argument against the mercantilist system of protectionism and special privilege that in the short run may benefit producers but which in the long run harms consumers and thereby decreases the wealth of a nation. All such mercantilist practices benefit the producers, monopolists, and their government agents, while the people of the nation—the true source of a nation’s wealth—remain impoverished: “The wealth of a country consists, not of its gold and silver only, but in its lands, houses, and consumable goods of all different kinds.” Yet, “in the mercantile system, the interest of the consumer is almost always constantly sacrificed to that of the producer.”3

Adam Smith statue in Edinburgh, Scotland. Photo by K. Mitch Hodge / Unsplash

The solution? Hands off. Laissez Faire. Lift trade barriers and other restrictions on people’s economic freedoms and allow them to exchange as they see fit for themselves, both morally and practically. In other words, an economy should be consumer driven, not producer driven. For example, under the mercantilist zero-sum philosophy, cheaper foreign goods benefit consumers but they hurt domestic producers, so the government should impose protective trade tariffs to maintain the favorable balance of trade.  

But who is being protected by a protective tariff? Smith showed that, in principle, the mercantilist system only benefits a handful of producers while the great majority of consumers are further impoverished because they have to pay a higher price for foreign goods. The growing of grapes in France, Smith noted, is much cheaper and more efficient than in the colder climes of his homeland, for example, where “by means of glasses, hotbeds, and hotwalls, very good grapes can be raised in Scotland” but at a price thirty times greater than in France. “Would it be a reasonable law to prohibit the importation of all foreign wines, merely to encourage the making of claret and burgundy in Scotland?” Smith answered the question by invoking a deeper principle: 

What is prudence in the conduct of every private family, can scarce be folly in that of a great kingdom. If a foreign country can supply us with a commodity cheaper than we ourselves can make it, better buy it of them.4

This is the central core of Smith’s economic theory: “Consumption is the sole end and purpose of all production; and the interest of the producer ought to be attended to, only so far as it may be necessary for promoting that of the consumer.” The problem is that the system of mercantilism “seems to consider production, and not consumption, as the ultimate end and object of all industry and commerce.”5 So what?

When production is the object, and not consumption, producers will appeal to top-down regulators instead of bottom-up consumers. Instead of consumers telling producers what they want to consume, government agents and politicians tell consumers what, how much, and at what price the products and services will be that they consume. This is done through a number of different forms of interventions into the marketplace. Domestically, we find examples in tax favors for businesses, tax subsidies for corporations, regulations (to control prices, imports, exports, production, distribution, and sales), and licensing (to control wages, protect jobs).6 Internationally, the interventions come primarily through taxes under varying names, including “duties,” “imposts,” “excises,” “tariffs,” “protective tariffs,” “import quotas,” “export quotas,” “most-favored nation agreements,” “bilateral agreements,” “multilateral agreements,” and the like. 

Such agreements are never between the consumers of two nations; they are between the politicians and the producers of the nations. Consumers have no say in the matter, with the exception of indirectly voting for the politicians who vote for or against such taxes and tariffs. And they all sum to the same effect: the replacement of free trade with “fair trade” (fair for producers, not consumers), which is another version of the mercantilist “favorable balance of trade” (favorable for producers, not consumers). Mercantilism is a zero-sum game in which producers win by the reduction or elimination of competition from foreign producers, while consumers lose by having fewer products from which to choose, along with higher prices and often lower quality products. The net result is a decrease in the wealth of a nation.

The principle is as true today as it was in Smith’s time, and we still hear the same objections Smith did: “Shouldn’t we protect our domestic producers from foreign competition?” And the answer is the same today as it was two centuries ago: no, because “consumption is the sole end and purpose of all production.”  

Nonzero Economics

The founders of the United States and the framers of the Constitution were heavily influenced by the Enlightenment thinkers of England and the continent, including and especially Adam Smith. Nevertheless, it was not long after the founding of the country before our politicians began to shift the focus of the economy from consumption to production. In 1787, the United States Constitution was ratified, which included Article 1, Section 8: “The Congress shall have the power to lay and collect taxes, duties, imposts, and excises to cover the debts of the United States.” As an amusing exercise in bureaucratic wordplay, consider the common usages of these terms in the Oxford English Dictionary. 

Tax: “a compulsory contribution to the support of government”
Duty: “a payment to the public revenue levied upon the import, export, manufacture, or sale of certain commodities”
Impost: “a tax, duty, imposition levied on merchandise”
Excise: “any toll or tax.” 

(Note the oxymoronic phrase “compulsory contribution” in the first definition.)

A revised Article 1, Section 8 reads: “The Congress shall have the power to lay and collect taxes, taxes, taxes, and taxes to cover the debts of the United States.”

A revised Article 1, Section 8 of the Constitution reads: “The Congress shall have the power to lay and collect taxes, taxes, taxes, and taxes to cover the debts of the United States.” Photo by Anthony Garand / Unsplash

In the U.K. and on the continent, mercantilists dug in while political economists, armed with the intellectual weapons provided by Adam Smith, fought back, wielding the pen instead of the sword. The nineteenth-century French economist Frédéric Bastiat, for example, was one of the first political economists after Smith to show what happens when the market depends too heavily on top-down tinkering from the government. In his wickedly raffish The Petition of the Candlemakers, Bastiat satirizes special interest groups—in this case candlemakers—who petition the government for special favors: 

We are suffering from the ruinous competition of a foreign rival who apparently works under conditions so far superior to our own for the production of light, that he is flooding the domestic market with it at an incredibly low price.... This rival... is none other than the sun.... We ask you to be so good as to pass a law requiring the closing of all windows, dormers, skylights, inside and outside shutters, curtains, casements, bull’s-eyes, deadlights and blinds; in short, all openings, holes, chinks, and fissures.7

Zero-sum mercantilist models hung on through the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, even in America. Since the income tax was not passed until 1913 through the Sixteenth Amendment, for most of the country’s first century the practitioners of trade and commerce were compelled to contribute to the government through various other taxes. Since foreign trade was not able to meet the growing debts of the United States, and in response to the growing size and power of the railroads and political pressure from farmers who felt powerless against them, in 1887 the government introduced the Interstate Commerce Commission. The ICC was charged with regulating the services of specified carriers engaged in transportation between states, beginning with railroads, but then expanded the category to include trucking companies, bus lines, freight carriers, water carriers, oil pipelines, transportation brokers, and other carriers of commerce.8 Regardless of its intentions, the ICC’s primary effect was interference with the freedom of people to buy and sell between the states of America.

The ICC was followed in 1890 with the Sherman Anti-Trust Act, which declared: “Every contract, combination in the form of trust or otherwise, or conspiracy, in restraint of trade or commerce among the several States, or with foreign nations, is declared to be illegal. Every person who shall make any contract or engage in any combination or conspiracy hereby declared to be illegal shall be deemed guilty of a felony,” resulting in a massive fine, jail, or both. 

When stripped of its obfuscatory language, the Sherman Anti-Trust Act and the precedent-setting cases that have been decided in the courts in the century since it was passed, allows the government to indict an individual or a company on one or more of four crimes: 

1.  Price gouging (charging more than the competition) 
2. Cutthroat competition (charging less than the competition)
3. Price collusion (charging the same as the competition), and 
4. Monopoly (having no competition).9, 10 

This was Katy-bar-the-door for anti-business legislators and their zero-sum mercantilist bureaucrats to restrict the freedom of consumers and producers to buy and sell, and they did with reckless abandon.  

Completing Smith’s Revolution

Tariffs are premised on a win-lose, zero-sum, producer-driven economy, which ineluctably leads to consumer loss. By contrast, a win-win, nonzero, consumer-driven economy leads to consumer gain. Ultimately, Smith held, a consumer-driven economy will produce greater overall wealth in a nation than will a producer-driven economy. Smith’s theory was revolutionary because it is counterintuitive. Our folk economic intuitions tell us that a complex system like an economy must have been designed from the top down, and thus it can only succeed with continual tinkering and control from the top. Smith amassed copious evidence to counter this myth—evidence that continues to accumulate two and a half centuries later—to show that, in the modern language of complexity theory, the economy is a bottom-up self-organized emergent property of complex adaptive systems. 

Adam Smith launched a revolution that has yet to be fully realized. A week does not go by without a politician, economist, or social commentator bemoaning the loss of American jobs, American manufacturing, and American products to foreign jobs, foreign manufacturing, and foreign products. Even conservatives—purportedly in favor of free markets, open competition, and less government intervention in the economy—have few qualms about employing protectionism when it comes to domestic producers, even at the cost of harming domestic consumers.

Citing the need to protect the national economic interest—and Harley-Davidson—Ronald Reagan raised tariffs on Japanese motorcycles from 4.4 percent to 49.4 percent. Photo by Library of Congress / Unsplash

Even the icon of free market capitalism, President Ronald Reagan, compromised his principles in 1982 to protect the Harley-Davidson Motor Company when it was struggling to compete against Japanese motorcycle manufactures that were producing higher quality bikes at lower prices. Honda, Kawasaki, Yamaha, and Suzuki were routinely undercutting Harley-Davidson by $1500 to $2000 a bike in comparable models.

On January 19, 1983, the International Trade Commission ruled that foreign motorcycle imports were a threat to domestic motorcycle manufacturers, and a 2-to-1 finding of injury was ruled on petition by Harley-Davidson, which complained that it could not compete with foreign motorcycle producers.10 On April 1, Reagan approved the ITC recommendation, explaining to Congress, “I have determined that import relief in this case is consistent with our national economic interest,” thereby raising the tariff from 4.4 percent to 49.4 percent for a year, a ten-fold tax increase on foreign motorcycles that was absorbed by American consumers. The protective tariff worked to help Harley-Davidson recover financially, but it was American motorcycle consumers who paid the price, not Japanese producers. As the ITC Chairman Alfred E. Eckes explained about his decision: “In the short run, price increases may have some adverse impact on consumers, but the domestic industry’s adjustment will have a positive long-term effect. The proposed relief will save domestic jobs and lead to increased domestic production of competitive motorcycles.”11

Photo by Lisanto 李奕良 / Unsplash

Whenever free trade agreements are proposed that would allow domestic manufacturers to produce their goods cheaper overseas and thereby sell them domestically at a much lower price than they could have with domestic labor, politicians and economists, often under pressure from trade unions and political constituents, routinely respond disapprovingly, arguing that we must protect our domestic workers. Recall Presidential candidate Ross Perot’s oft-quoted 1992 comment in response to the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) about the “giant sucking sound” of jobs being sent to Mexico from the United States.

In early 2007, the Nobel laureate economist Edward C. Prescott lamented that economists invest copious time and resources countering the myth that it is “the government’s economic responsibility to protect U.S. industry, employment and wealth against the forces of foreign competition.” That is not the government’s responsibility, says Prescott, echoing Smith, which is simply “to provide the opportunity for people to seek their livelihood on their own terms, in open international markets, with as little interference from government as possible.” Prescott shows that “those countries that open their borders to international competition are those countries with the highest per capita income” and that open economic borders “is the key to bringing developing nations up to the standard of living enjoyed by citizens of wealthier countries.”12

“Protectionism is seductive,” Prescott admits, “but countries that succumb to its allure will soon have their economic hearts broken. Conversely, countries that commit to competitive borders will ensure a brighter economic future for their citizens.” But why exactly do open economic borders, free trade, and international competition lead to greater wealth for a nation? Writing over two centuries after Adam Smith, Prescott reverberates the moral philosopher’s original insight:

It is openness that gives people the opportunity to use their entrepreneurial talents to create social surplus, rather than using those talents to protect what they already have. Social surplus begets growth, which begets social surplus, and so on. People in all countries are motivated to improve their condition, and all countries have their share of talented risk-takers, but without the promise that a competitive system brings, that motivation and those talents will only lie dormant.13

The Evolutionary Origins of Tariffs and Zero-Sum Economics

Why is mercantilist zero-sum protectionism so pervasive and persistent? Bottom-up invisible hand explanations for complex systems are counterintuitive because of our folk economic propensity to perceive designed systems to be the product of a top-down designer. But there is a deeper reason grounded in our evolved social psychology of group loyalty. The ultimate reason that Smith’s revolution has not been fulfilled is that we evolved a propensity for in-group amity and between-group enmity, and thus it is perfectly natural to circle the wagons and protect one’s own, whoever or whatever may be the proxy for that group. Make America Great Again! 

For the first 90,000 years of our existence as a species we lived in small bands of tens to hundreds of people. In the last 10,000 years some bands evolved into tribes of thousands, some tribes developed into chiefdoms of tens of thousands, some chiefdoms coalesced into states of hundreds of thousands, and a handful of states conjoined together into empires of millions. The attendant leap in food-production and population that accompanied the shift to chiefdoms and states allowed for a division of labor to develop in both economic and social spheres. Full-time artisans, craftsmen, and scribes worked within a social structure organized and run by full-time politicians, bureaucrats, and, to pay for it all, tax collectors. The modern state economy was born.

In this historical trajectory our group psychology evolved and along with it a propensity for xenophobia—in-group good, out-group bad. In the Paleolithic social environment in which our moral commitments evolved, one’s fellow in-group members consisted of family, extended family, friends, and community members who were well known to each other. To help others was to help oneself. Those groups who practiced in-group harmony and between-group antagonism would have had a survival advantage over those groups who experienced within-group social divide and decoherence, or haphazardly embraced strangers from other groups without first establishing trust. Because our deep social commitments evolved as part of our behavioral repertoire of responses for survival in a complex social environment, we carry the seeds of such in-group inclusiveness today. The resulting within-group cohesiveness and harmony carries with it a concomitant tendency for between-group xenophobia and tribalism that, in the context of a modern economic system, leads to protectionism and mercantilism.

And tariffs. We must resist the tribal temptation.

Annie Dawid’s most recent novel revisits the Jonestown Massacre from the perspective of the people who were there, taking the spotlight off cult leader Jim Jones and rehumanizing the “mindless zombies” who followed one man from their homes in the U.S. to their death in Guyana, but as our notion of victimhood is improving, we’re also forced to confront the ugly truth: In the almost fifty years since Jonestown: large-scale cult-related death has not gone away.

On the 18th of November, 2024, fiction author Annie Dawid’s sixth book, Paradise Undone: A Novel of Jonestown, celebrated its first birthday on the same day as the forty-sixth anniversary of its subject matter, an incident that saw the largest instance of intentional U.S. citizen death in the 20th Century and introduced the world to the horrors and dangers of cultism—The Jonestown Massacre. 

A great deal has been written on Jonestown after 1978, although mostly non-fiction, and the books Raven: The Untold Story of the Rev. Jim Jones and His People (1982) and The Road to Jonestown: Jim Jones and Peoples Temple (2017) are considered some of the most thorough investigations into what happened in the years in the lead up to the massacre. Many historical and sociological studies of Jonestown focus heavily on the psychology and background of the man who ordered 917 men, women, and children to die with him in the Guyanese jungle—The Reverend Jim Jones. 

For cult survivors beginning the difficult process of unpacking and rebuilding after their cult involvement—or for those who lose family members or friends to cult tragedy—the shame of cult involvement and the public’s misconception that cult recruitment stems from a psychological or emotional fault are challenges to overcome. 

And when any subsequent discussions of cult-related incidents can result in a disproportionate amount of attention given to cult leaders, often classified as pathological narcissists or having Cluster-B personality disorders, there’s a chance that with every new article or book on Jonestown, we’re just feeding the beast—often at the expense of recognizing the victims. 

An aerial view of the dead in Jonestown.

Annie Dawid, however, uses fiction to avoid the trap of revisiting Jonestown through the lens of Jones, essentially removing him and his hold over the Jonestown story.

“He’s a man that already gets too much air time,” she says, “The humanity of 917 people gets denied by omission. That’s to say their stories don’t get told, only Jones’ story gets told over and over again.”

“I read so many books about him. I was like enough,” she says, “Enough of him.” 

Jones of Jonestown 

By all accounts, Jones, in his heyday, was a handsome man. 

An Internet image search for Jones pulls up an almost iconic, counter-culture cool black-and-white photo of a cocksure man in aviator sunglasses and a dog collar, his lips parted as if the photographer has caught him in the middle of delivering some kind of profundity. 

Jones’s signature aviator sunglasses may have once been a fashion statement, a hip priest amongst the Bay Area kids, but now he never seems to be without them as an increasing amphetamine and tranquilizer dependency has permanently shaded the areas under his eyes. 

Jim Jones in 1977. By Nancy Wong

“Jim Jones is not just a guy with an ideology; he was a preacher with fantastic charisma, says cult expert Mike Garde, the director of the Irish charity Dialogue Ireland, an independent charity that educates the public on cultism and assists its victims. “And this charisma would have been unable to bring people to Guyana if he had not been successful at doing it in San Francisco,” he adds. 

Between January 1977 and August 1978, almost 900 members of the Peoples Temple gave up their jobs, and life savings, and left family members behind in the U.S. to relocate to Guyana to begin moving into the new home: Peoples Temple Agricultural Mission, an agricultural commune inspired by Soviet socialist values. 

On November 19th, 1978, U.S. Channel 7 interrupted its normal broadcast with a special news report, and presenter Tom Van Amburg encouraged viewer discretion and described the horror of hardened newsmen upon seeing the scenes at Jonestown that had “shades of Auschwitz.” 

As a story, the details of Jonestown feel like a work of violent fiction, like a prototype Cormac McCarthy novel: A Hearts of Darkness-esque cautionary tale of Wild-West pioneering gone wrong in a third-world country with Jones cast in the lead role. 

“I feel like there’s a huge admiration for bad boys, and if they’re good-looking, that helps too,” Dawid says, “This sort of admiration of the bad boy makes it that we want to know, we’re excited by the monster—we want to know all about the monster.” 

Dawid understands Jones’ allure, his hold over the Jonestown narrative as well as the public’s attention, but “didn’t want to indulge that part of me either,” she says. 

“But I wasn’t tempted to because I learned about so many interesting people that were in the story but never been the subjects of the story,” she adds, “So I wanted to make them the subjects.” 

Screenshot of the website for the award-winning film Jonestown: The Life and Death of Peoples Temple by Stanley Nelson, Marcia Smith, and Noland WalkerThe People of the Peoples Temple 

For somebody who was there from the modest Pentecostal beginnings of the Peoples Temple in 1954 until the end in Guyana, very little attention had ever been paid to Marceline Jones in the years after Jonestown. 

“She was there—start to finish. For me, she made it all happen, and nobody wrote anything about her,” Dawid says, “The woman behind the man doesn’t exist.” 

Even for Garde, Marceline was another anonymous victim of no significance beyond the surname connecting her to the husband: “My initial read of Marceline was that she was ‘Just a cipher, she wasn’t a real person,” he says, “She didn’t even register on my dial.” 

Dawid gives Marceline an existence, and in her book, she’s a “superwoman” juggling her duties as a full-time nurse and the Peoples Temple—a caring, selfless individual who lives in the service of others, mainly the children and the elderly of the Peoples Temple. 

“In the sort of awful way, she’s this smart, interesting, energetic woman, but she can’t escape the power of her husband,” Dawid says, “It’s just very like domestic violence where the woman can’t get away from the abuser [and] I have had so much feedback from older women who felt that they totally related to her.” 

The woman behind the man doesn’t exist.

Selfless altruism was a shared characteristic of the Peoples Temple, as members spent most of their time involved in some kind of charity work, from handing out food to the homeless or organizing clothes drives. 

“You know, I did grow to understand the whole sort of social justice beginnings of Peoples Temple,” Dawid says, “I came to admire the People’s Temple as an organization.” 

“Social justice, racism, and caring for old people, that was a big part of the Peoples Temple. And so it made sense why an altruistic, smart, young person would say, ‘I want to be part of this,’” she adds. 

Guyana 

For Dawid, where it all went down is just as important—and arguably just as overlooked in the years after 1978—as the people who went there. 

Acknowledging the incredible logistical feat of moving almost 1000 people, many of them passport-less, to a foreign country, Dawid sees the small South American country as another casualty of Jonestown: “I had to have a Guyanese voice in my book because Guyana was another victim of Jones,” Dawid says. 

The English-speaking Guyana—recently free of British Colonial rule and leaning towards Socialism under leader Cheddi Jagan—offered Jones a haven from the increasing scrutiny back in the U.S. amidst accusations of fraud and sexual abuse, and was “a place to escape the regulation of the U.S. and enjoy the weak scrutiny of the Guyanese state,” according to Garde. 

“He was not successful at covering up the fact he had a dual model: he was sexually abusing women, taking money, and accruing power to himself, and he had to do it in Guyana,” Garde adds, “He wanted a place where he could not be observed.” 

There may be a temptation to overstate what happened in 1978 as leaving an indelible, defining mark on the reputation of a country during its burgeoning years as an independent nation, but in the columns of many newspapers on the breakfast tables of American households in the years afterward, one could not be discussed without the other: “So it used to be that if you read an article that mentioned Guyana, it always mentioned Jonestown,” Dawid says. 

In the few reports interested in the Guyanese perspective after Jonestown, the locals have gone through a range of feelings from wanting to forget the tragedy ever happened, or turning the site into a destination for dark tourism. 

However, the country’s 2015 discovery of offshore oil means that—in the pages of some outlets and the minds of some readers—Jonestown is no longer the only thing synonymous with Guyana: “I read an article in the New York Times about Guyana’s oil,” Dawid says, “and it didn’t mention Jonestown.” 

From victimhood to survivorship: out of the darkness and into the light…Victimhood to Survivorship 

According to Garde, the public’s perception of cult victims as mentally defective, obsequious followers, or—at worst—somehow deserving of their fate is not unique to victims of religious or spiritual cults. 

“Whenever we use the words ‘cult’, ‘cultism’ or ‘cultist’ we are referring solely to the phenomenon where troubling levels of undue psychological influence may exist. This phenomenon can occur in almost any group or organization,” reads Dialogue Ireland’s mission statement. 

“Victim blaming is something that is now so embedded that we take it for granted. It’s not unique to cultism contexts—it exists in all realms where there’s a victim-perpetrator dynamic,” Garde says, “People don’t want to take responsibility or face what has happened, so it can be easier to ignore or blame the victim, which adds to their trauma.” 

While blaming and shaming prevent victims from reporting crimes and seeking help, there does seem to be recent improvements in their treatment, regardless of the type of abuse: 

“We do seem to be improving our concept of victims, and we are beginning to recognize the fact that the victims of child sexual abuse need to be recognized, the #MeToo movement recognizes what happened to women,” says Garde, “They are now being seen and heard. There’s an awareness of victimhood and at the same time, there’s also a movement from victimhood to survivorship.” 

Paradise Undone: A Novel of Jonestown focuses on how the survivors process and cope with the fallout of their traumatic involvement with or connection to Jonestown, making the very poignant observation that cult involvement does not end when you escape or leave—the residual effects persist for many years afterward. 

“It’s an extremely vulnerable period of time,” Garde points out, “If you don’t get out of that state, in that sense of being a victim, that’s a very serious situation. We get stuck in the past or frozen in the present and can’t move from being a victim to having a future as a survivor.” 

Support networks and resources are flourishing online to offer advice and comfort to survivors: “I think the whole cult education movement has definitely humanized victims of cults,” Dawid points out, “And there are all these cult survivors who have their own podcasts and cult survivors who are now counseling other cult survivors.” 

At the very least, these can help reduce the stigma around abuse or kickstart the recovery process; however, Garde sees a potential issue in the cult survivors counseling cult survivors dynamic: “There can be a danger of those operating such sites thinking that, as former cult members, they have unique insight and don’t recognize the expertise of those who are not former members,” he says, “We have significant cases where ex-cultists themselves become subject to sectarian attitudes and revert back to cult behavior.” 

Whenever we use the words ‘cult’, ‘cultism’ or ‘cultist’ we are referring solely to the phenomenon where troubling levels of undue psychological influence may exist.

And while society’s treatment and understanding of cult victims may be changing, Garde is frustrated with the overall lack of support the field of cult education receives, and all warnings seem to fall on deaf ears, as they once were in the lead up to Jonestown: 

The public’s understanding seems to be changing, but the field of cult studies still doesn’t get the support or understanding it needs from the government or the media. I can’t get through to journalists and government people, or they don’t reply. It’s so just unbelievably frustrating in terms of things not going anywhere. 

One fundamental issue remains; some might say that things have gotten worse in the years post-Jonestown: “The attitude there is absolutely like pro-survivor, pro-victim, so that has changed,” Dawid says, “You know, it does seem like there are more cults than ever, however.” 

A History of Violence 

The International Cultic Studies Association’s (ICSA) Steve Eichel estimates there are around 10,000 cults operating in the U.S. alone. Regardless of the number, in the decades since Jonestown, there has been no shortage of cult-related tragedies resulting in a massive loss of life in the U.S. and abroad. 

The trial of Paul Mackenzie, the Kenyan pastor behind the 2023 Shakahola Forest Massacre (also known as the Kenyan starvation cult), is currently underway. Mackenzie pleads not guilty to the death of 448 people and charges of murder, child torture, and terrorism as Kenyan pathologists are still working to identify all of the exhumed bodies. 

“It’s frustrating and tragic to see events like this still happening internationally, so it might seem like we haven’t progressed in terms of where we’re at,” Garde laments. 

Jonestown may be seen as the progenitor of the modern-cult tragedy, an incident for which other cult incidents are compared, but for Dawid, the 1999 Colorado shooting that left 13 teenagers dead and 24 injured would shock American society in the same way, and leave behind a similar legacy. 

“I see a kind of similarity in the impact it had,” Dawid says, “Even though there had been other school shootings before Columbine….I think it did a certain kind of explosive number on American consciousness in the same way that Jones did, not just on American consciousness, but world consciousness about the danger of cults.” 

Victim blaming is something that is now so embedded that we take it for granted.

Just as everyone understands that Jonestown refers to the 917 dead U.S. citizens in the Guyanese jungle, the word “Columbine” is now a byword for school shootings. However, if you want to use their official, unabbreviated titles, you’ll find both events share the same surname—massacre. 

“All cult stories will mention Jonestown, and all school shootings will [mention] Columbine,” Dawid points out. 

In Memoriam 

The official death toll on November 18, 1978, is 918, but that figure includes the man who couldn’t bring himself to follow his own orders. 

According to the evidence, Jim Jones and the nurse Annie Moore were the only two to die of gunshot wounds at Jonestown. The entry wound on Jones’ left temple meant there was a very good chance the shooter wasn’t right-handed (as Jones was). It is believed that Jones ordered Moore to shoot him first, confirming for Garde, Jones’ cowardice: “We saw his pathetic inability to die as he set off a murder-suicide. He could order others to kill themselves, but he could not take the same poison. He did not even have the guts to shoot himself.” 

On the anniversary of Jonestown (also International Cult Awareness Day), people gather at the Jonestown Memorial at the Workers at the Evergreen Cemetery in Oakland, California, but the 2011 unveiling of the memorial revealed something problematic. Nestled between all the engraved names of the victims is the name of the man responsible for it all: James Warren Jones. 

The inclusion of Jones’ name has outraged many in attendance, and there are online petitions calling for it to be removed. Garde agrees, and just as Dawid retired Jones from his lead role in the Jonestown narrative, he believes Jones’ name should be physically removed from the memorial. 

“He should be definitely excluded and there should be a sign saying very clearly he was removed because of the fact that it was totally inappropriate for him to be connected to this.” he says, “It’s like the equivalent of a murderer being added as if he’s a casualty.” 

In the years since she first started researching the book, Dawid feels that the focus on Jones: “There’s been a lot written since then, and I feel like some of the material that’s been published since then has tried to branch out from that viewpoint,” she says. 

It’s frustrating and tragic to see events like this still happening internationally.

Modern re-examinations challenge the long-time framing of Jonestown as a mass suicide, with “murder-suicide” providing a better description of what unfolded, and the 2018 documentary Jonestown: The Women Behind the Massacre explores the actions of the female members of Jones’ inner circle. 

While it may be difficult to look at Jonestown and see anything positive, with every new examination of the tragedy that avoids making him the central focus, Jones’ power over the Peoples Temple, and the story of Jonestown, seems to wane. 

And looking beyond Jones reveals acts of heroism that otherwise go unnoticed: “The woman who escaped and told everybody in the government that this was going to happen. She’s a hero, and nobody listened to her,” Dawid says. 

That person is Jonestown defector Deborah Layton, the author of the Jonestown book Seductive Poison, whose 1978 affidavit warned the U.S. government of Jones’ plans for a mass suicide. 

And in the throes of the chaos of November 18, a single person courageously stood up and denounced the actions that would define the day. 

For Christine, who refused to submit.

Dawid’s book is dedicated to the memory of the sixty-year-old Christine Miller, the only person known to have spoken out that day against the Jones and his final orders. Her protests can be heard on the 44-minute “Death Tape”—an audio recording of the final moments of Jonestown. 

The dedication on the opening page of Paradise Undone: A Novel of Jonestown reads: “For Christine, who refused to submit.” 

Perceptions of Jonestown may be changing, but I ask Dawid how the survivors and family members of the victims feel about how Jonestown is represented after all these years. 

“It’s a really ugly piece of American history, and it had been presented for so long as the mass suicide of gullible, zombie-like druggies,” Dawid says, “We’re almost at the 50th anniversary, and the derision of all the people who died at Jonestown as well as the focus on Jones as if he were the only important person, [but] I think they’re encouraged by how many people still want to learn about Jonestown.” 

“They’re very strong people,” Dawid tells me.

Frans de Waal was one of the world’s leading primatologists. He has been named one of TIME magazine’s 100 Most Influential People. The author of Are We Smart Enough to Know How Smart Animals Are?, as well as many other works, he was the C.H. Candler Professor in Emory University’s Psychology Department and director of the Living Links Center at the Yerkes National Primate Research Center.

Skeptic: How can we know what another mind is thinking or feeling?

Frans de Waal: My work is on animals that cannot talk, which is both a disadvantage and advantage. It’s a disadvantage because I cannot ask them how they feel and what their experiences are, but it is an advantage because I think humans lie a lot. I don’t trust humans. I’m a biologist but I work in a psychology department, and all my colleagues are psychologists. Most psychologists nowadays use questionnaires, and they trust what people tell them, but I don’t. So, I’d much rather work with animals where instead of asking how often they have sex, I just count how often. That’s more reliable.

I cannot ask them how they feel and what their experiences are, but it is an advantage because I think humans lie a lot. I don’t trust humans.

That said, I distinguish between emotions and feelings because you cannot know the feelings of any animals. But I can deduce them, guess at them. Personally, I feel it’s very similar with humans. Humans can tell me their feelings, but even if you tell me that you are sad, I don’t know if that’s the same sadness that I would feel under the same circumstances, so I can only guess what you feel. You might even be experiencing mixed feelings, or there may be feelings you’re not even aware of, and so you’re not able to communicate them. We have the same problem in non-human species as we do in humans, because feelings are less accessible and require guesswork.

That said, sometimes I’m perfectly comfortable guessing at the feelings of animals, even though you must distinguish them from the things you can measure. I can measure facial expressions. I can measure blood pressure. I can measure their behavior, but I can never really measure what they feel. But then, psychologists can’t do that with people either.

Skeptic: Suppose I’m feeling sad and I’m crying at some sort of loss. And then I see you’ve experienced a loss and that you’re crying … Isn’t it reasonable to infer that you feel sad?

FdW: Yes. And so that same principle of being reasonable can be applied to other species. And the closer that species is to you, the easier it is. Chimpanzees and bonobos cry and laugh. They have facial expressions— the same sort of expressions we do. So it’s fairly easy to infer the feelings behind those expressions and infer they may be very similar to our own. If you move to, say, an elephant, which is still a mammal, or to a fish, which is not, it becomes successively more difficult. Fish don’t even have facial expressions. That doesn’t mean that fish don’t feel anything. It would be a very biased view to assume that an animal needs to show facial expressions as evidence that it feels something.

At the same time, research on humans has argued that we have six basic emotions based on the observation that we have six basic facial expressions. So, there the tie between emotions and expressions has been made very explicit.

In my work, I tend to focus on the expressive behavior. But behind it, of course, there must be similar feelings. At least that’s what Darwin thought.

Chimpanzees and bonobos cry and laugh. They have facial expressions—the same sort of expressions we do.

Skeptic: That’s not widely known, is it? Darwin published The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals in 1872, but it took almost a century before the taboo against it started to lift.

FdW: It’s the only book of Darwin’s that disappeared from view for a century. All the other books were celebrated, but that book was placed under some sort of taboo. Partly because of the influence of the behaviorist school of B.F. Skinner, Richard Herrnstein, and others, it was considered silly to think that animals would have the same sort of emotions as we do.

Biologists, including my own biology professors, however, found a way out. They didn’t need to talk about emotions because they would talk about the function of behavior. For example, they would not say “the animal is afraid” but rather that “the animal escapes from danger.” They phrased everything in functional terms—a semantic trick that researchers still often use.

If you were to say that two animals “love each other” or that “they’re very attached to each other,” you’re likely to receive significant criticism, if not ridicule. So why even describe it that way? Instead, you objectively report that the animals bonded and they benefited from doing so. Phrasing it functionally has, well, functioned as a sort of preferred safe procedure. But I have decided not to employ it anymore.

Skeptic: In most of your books you talk about the social and political context of science. Why do you think the conversation about animal emotions was held back for almost a century?

FdW: World War II had an effect on the study of aggression, which became a very popular topic in the 1960s and 70s. Then we got the era of “the selfish gene” and so on. In fact, the silencing of the study of mental processes and emotions in animals started before the war. It actually started in the 1920s and 30s. And I think it’s because scientists such as Skinner wanted the behavioral sciences to be like the physical sciences. They operated under the belief that it provided a certain protection against criticism to get away from anything that could be seen as speculation. And there was a lot of speculation going on in the so-called “depth psychologies,” some of it rather wild.

However, there are a lot of invisible things in science that we assume to be true, for example, evolutionary theory. Evolution is not necessarily visible, at least most of the time it isn’t, yet still, we believe very strongly that evolution happened. Continental drift is unobservable, but we now accept that it happened. The same principle can be applied to animal feelings and animal consciousness. You assume it as a sort of theory and see if things fit. And, research has demonstrated that things fit quite well.

Skeptic: Taking a different angle, can Artificial Intelligence (AI) experience emotions? Was IBM’s Watson “thrilled” when it beat Ken Jennings, the all-time champion of Jeopardy!? Well, of course not. So what do you think about programming such internal states into an artificial intelligence?

FdW: I think researchers developing AI models are interested in affective programs because of the way we biologists look at emotions. Emotions trigger actions that are adaptive. Fear is an adaptive emotion because it may trigger certain behaviors such as hiding, escaping, etc., so we look at emotions as being the stimulus that elicits certain specific types of behavior. Emotions organize behavior, and I think that’s what the AI people are interested in. Emotions are actually a very smart system, compared to instincts. Someone might argue that instincts also trigger behavior. However, while instincts are inflexible, emotions are different.

Let’s say you are afraid of something. The emotion of fear doesn’t trigger your behavior. An emotion just prepares the body for certain behaviors, but you still need to make a decision. Do I want to escape? Do I want to fight? Do I want to hide? What is the best behavior under these circumstances? And so, your emotion triggers the need for a response, and then your cognition takes over and searches for the best solution. It’s a very, very nice system and creators of AI models are interested in such an organizational system of behavior. I’m not sure they will ever construct the feelings behind the emotions—it’s not an easy thing to do—but certainly organizing behavior according to emotions is possible.

Skeptic: Are emotions created from the bottom-up? How do you scale from something very simple up to much higher levels of complexity?

FdW: Humans have a complex emotional system—we mix a lot of emotions, sort them, regulate them. Well, sometimes we don’t actually regulate them and that is something that really interests me in my work with animals. What kind of regulation do they have over their emotions? People often say that we have emotions and we can suppress them, whereas animals have emotions that they have to follow. However, experiments have demonstrated that’s not really the case. For example, we give apes the marshmallow test. Briefly, that’s where you put a child in a situation in which he or she can either eat a marshmallow immediately, or wait and get a second one later. Well, kids are willing to wait for 15 minutes. If you do that same experiment with apes, they’re also willing to wait for 15 minutes. So they can control their emotions. And like children, apes seek distractions from the situation because they’re aware that they’re dealing with certain specific emotions. Therefore, we know that apes have a certain awareness of their emotions, and they have a certain level of control over them. This whole idea that regulation of emotions is specifically human, while animals can only follow them, is wrong.

The emotional farewell between the chimpanzee Mama and her caretaker, Jan van Hooff (Source)

That’s actually the reason I wrote Mama’s Last Hug. The starting point of the book was when Prof. Jan Van Hoff came on TV and showed a little clip that everyone has seen by now, where he and a chimpanzee called Mama hug each other. Both he and I were shocked when the clip went viral and generated such a response. Many people cried and wrote to us to say they were very influenced by what they saw. The truth is Mama was simply showing perfectly normal chimpanzee behavior. It was a very touching moment, obviously, but for those familiar with chimps, there was nothing surprising about the behavior. And so, I wrote this book partly because I noticed that people did not know how human-like the expressions of the apes are. Embracing, and hugging, and calming someone down, and having a big smile on your face are all common behaviors seen in primates and are not unique to humans.

Skeptic: Your famous experiment with capuchin monkeys, where you offer them a grape or a piece of cucumber, is along similar lines. When the monkey got the cucumber instead of the grape, he got really angry. He threw the cucumber back, then proceeded to pound on the table and the walls … He was clearly ticked off at the injustice he felt had been done him, just as a person would be.

A still from the famous capuchin monkey fairness experiment (Source: Frans de Waal’s TED Talk)

FdW: The funny thing is that primates, including those monkeys, have all the same expressions and behaviors as we do. And so, they shake their cage and throw the cucumber at you. The behavior is just so extremely similar, and the circumstances are so similar … I always say that if related species behave in a similar way under similar circumstances, you have to assume a shared psychology lies behind it. It is just not acceptable in this day and age of Darwinian philosophy, so to speak, to assume anything else. If people want to make the point that it’s maybe not similar, that maybe the monkey was actually very happy while he was throwing the stuff … they’ll have a lot of work to do to convince me of that.

Skeptic: What’s the date of the last common ancestor humans shared with chimps and bonobos?

FdW: It’s about 6 million years ago.

Skeptic: So, these are indeed pretty ancient emotions.

FdW: Oh, they go back much further than that! Like the bonding mechanism based on oxytocin—the neuropeptides in bonding go back to rodents, and probably even back to fish at some point. These neuropeptide circuits involved in attachment and bonding are very ancient. They’re even older than mammals themselves.

Skeptic: One emotion that seems very uniquely human is disgust. If a chimp or Bonobo comes across a pile of feces or vomit, what do they do?

FdW: When we do experiments and put interesting food on top of feces and see if the chimp is willing to take it, they don’t. They refuse to. The facial expression of the chimps is the same as we have for disgust—with the wrinkly nose and all that. Chimps also show it, for example, when it rains. They don’t like rain. And they show it, sometimes, in circumstances where they encounter a rat. So, some of these emotions have been proposed as being uniquely human, but I disagree. Disgust, I think, is a very old emotion.

If related species behave in a similar way under similar circumstances, you have to assume a shared psychology lies behind it.

Disgust is an interesting case because we know that both in chimps and humans a specific part of the brain called the insula is involved. If you stimulate the insula in a monkey who’s chewing on good fruit, he’ll spit it out. If you put humans in a brain scanner and show them piles of feces or things they don’t want to see, the insula is likewise activated. So here we have an emotion that is triggered under the same circumstances, that is shown in the face in the same way, and that is associated with the same specific area in the brain. So we have to assume it’s the same emotion across the board. That’s why I disagree with those scientists who have declared disgust uniquely human.

Skeptic: In one of your lectures, you show photos of a horse wrinkling up its nose and baring its teeth. Is that a smile or something else?

FdW: The baring of the teeth is very complex because in many primates it is a fearful signal shown when they’re afraid or when they’re intimidated by dominance and showing submission. So, we think it became a signal of appeasement and non-hostility. Basically saying, “I’m not hostile. Don’t expect any trouble from me.” And then over time, especially in apes and then in humans, it became more and more of a friendly signal. So it’s not necessarily a fear signal. Although we still say that if someone smiles too much, they’re probably nervous.

Skeptic: Is it true that you can determine whether someone’s giving you a fake smile or a real smile depending on whether the corners of their eyes are pulled down?

FdW: Yes, this is called the Duchenne smile. Duchenne was a 19th century French neurologist. He studied people who had facial paralysis, meaning they had the muscles, but they could not feel anything in their face. This allowed him to put electrodes on their faces and stimulate them. He methodically contracted different muscles and noticed he could produce a smile on his subjects. Yet he was never quite happy with the smile—it just didn’t look real. Then one day he told a subject a joke. A very good joke, I suppose, and all of a sudden, he got a real full-blown smile. That’s when Duchenne decided that there needs to be a contraction and a narrowing of the eyes for a smile to be a real smile. So, we now distinguish between the fake smile and the Duchenne smile.

Skeptic: So, smiling involves a whole complex suite of muscles. Is the number of muscles in the face of humans higher than other species?

FdW: Do we have far more muscles in the face than a chimpanzee? I’ve heard that all my life. Until people who analyze faces of chimpanzees found exactly the same number of muscles in there as in a human face. So that whole story doesn’t hold up. I think the confusion originated because when we look at the human face, we can interpret so many little details of it—and I think chimps do that with each other too—but when we look at a chimp, we only see the bold, more flamboyant expressions.

Skeptic: Have we evolved in the way we treat other animals?

FdW: The Planet of the Apes movies provide a good example of that. I’m so happy that Hollywood has found a way of featuring apes in movies without the involvement of real animals. There was a time when Hollywood had trainers who described what they do as affective training. Not effective, but affective. They used cattle prods, and stuff like that. People used to think that seeing apes dressed up or producing silly grins was hilarious. No longer. We’ve come a long way from that.

Skeptic: The Planet of the Apes films show apes that are quite violent, maybe even brutal. You actually studied the darker side of emotion in apes. Can you describe it?

FdW: Most of the books on emotions in animals dwell on the positive: they show how animals love each other, how they hug each other, how they help each other, how they grieve … and I do think that’s all very impressive. However, the emotional life of animals—just like that of humans— includes a lot of nasty emotions.

We do not treat animals very well, certainly not in the agricultural industry.

I have seen so much of chimpanzee politics that I witnessed those very dark emotions. They can kill each other. One of the killings I’ve witnessed was in captivity. So, when it happened, I thought maybe it was a product of captivity. Some colleagues said to me, “What do you expect if you lock them up?” But now we know that wild chimpanzees do the exact same thing. Sometimes, if a male leader loses his position or other chimps are not happy with him, they will brutally kill him. At the same time, chimpanzees can also be good friends, help each other, and defend their territory together—just like people who on occasion hate each other or even kill each other, but otherwise coexist peacefully.

The more important point is that we do not treat animals very well, certainly not in the agricultural industry. And we need to do something about that.

Skeptic: Are you a vegetarian or vegan?

FdW: No. Well, I do try to avoid eating meat. For me, however, the issue is not so much the eating, it’s the treatment of animals. As a biologist, I see the cycle of life as a natural thing. But it bothers me how we treat animals.

Skeptic: What’s next for you?

FdW: I’m going to retire! In fact, I’ve already stopped my research. I’m going to travel with my wife, and write.

Dr. Frans de Waal passed away on March 14, 2024, aged 75. In Loving Memory.

All of the ways you've heard that deep space wants to kill us — and how plausible or likely each scenario is.

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A team led by Corrado Malanga from the University of Pisa and Filippo Biondi from the University of Strathclyde recently claimed to have found huge structures beneath the Pyramids of Giza using Synthetic Aperture Radar (SAR) technology.

These structures are said to be up to 10 times larger than the pyramids, potentially rewriting our understanding of ancient Egyptian history.

However, many archaeologists and Egyptologists, including prominent figures, have expressed doubt, highlighting the lack of peer-reviewed evidence and the technical challenges of such deep imaging.

Photo by Michael Starkie / Unsplash

Dr. Zahi Hawass, a renowned Egyptologist and former Egyptian Minister of Antiquities, has publicly rejected these findings, calling them “completely wrong” and “baseless,” arguing that the techniques used are not scientifically validated. Other experts, like Professor Lawrence Conyers, have questioned whether SAR can penetrate the dense limestone to the depths claimed, suggesting decades of prior studies using other methods found no such evidence.

The claims have reignited interest in fringe theories, such as the pyramids as ancient power grids or energy hubs, with comparisons to Nikola Tesla’s wireless energy transmission ideas. Mythological correlations, like the Halls of Amenti and references in the Book of the Dead, have also been drawn.

The research has not been published in a peer-reviewed scientific journal, which is a critical step for validation. The findings were announced via a press release on March 15, 2025, and discussed in a press conference.

What to make of it all?

For a deep dive into this fascinating claim, Skeptic magazine Editor-in-Chief Michael Shermer appeared on Piers Morgan Uncensored, alongside Jay Anderson from Project Unity, archaeologist and YouTuber Dr. Flint Dibble, Jimmy Corsetti from the Bright Insight Podcast, Dan Richards from DeDunking the Past, and archaeologist and YouTuber Milo Rossi (AKA Miniminuteman).

Watch the discussion here:

Is it more of a disadvantage to be born poor or Black? Is it worse to be brought up by rich parents in a poor neighborhood, or by poor parents in a rich neighborhood? The answers to these questions lie at the very core of what constitutes a fair society. So how do we know if it is better to have wealthy parents or to grow up in a wealthy neighborhood when “good” things often go together (i.e., kids with rich parents grow up in rich neighborhoods)? When poverty, being Black, and living in a neighborhood with poor schools all predict worse outcomes, how can we disentangle them? Statisticians call this problem multicollinearity, and a number of straightforward methods using some of the largest databases on social mobility ever assembled provide surprisingly clear answers to these questions—the biggest obstacle children face in America is having the bad luck of being born into a poor family.

The immense impact of parental income on the future earnings of children has been established by a tremendous body of research. Raj Chetty and colleagues, in one of the largest studies of social mobility ever conducted,1 linked census data to federal tax returns to show that your parent’s income when you were a child was by far the best predictor of your own income when you became an adult. The authors write, “On average, a 10 percentile increase in parent income is associated with a 3.4 percentile increase in a child’s income.” This is a huge effect; children will earn an average of 34 percent more if their parents are in the highest income decile as compared to the lowest. This effect is true across all races, and Black children born in the top income quintile are more than twice as likely to remain there than White children born in the bottom quintile are to rise to the top. In short, the chances of occupying the top rungs of the economic ladder for children of any race are lowest for those who grow up poor and highest for those who grow up rich. These earnings differences have a broad impact on wellbeing and are strongly correlated with both health and life expectancy.2 Wealthy men live 15 years longer than the poorest, and wealthy women are expected to live 10 years longer than poor women—five times the effect of cancer!

Why is having wealthy parents so important? David Grusky at Stanford, in a paper on the commodification of opportunity, writes:

Although parents cannot directly buy a middleclass outcome for their children, they can buy opportunity indirectly through advantaged access to the schools, neighborhoods, and information that create merit and raise the probability of a middle-class outcome.3

In other words, opportunity is for sale to those who can afford it. This simple point is so obvious that it is surprising that so many people seem to miss it. Indeed, it is increasingly common for respected news outlets to cite statistics about racial differences without bothering to control for class. This is like conducting a study showing that taller children score higher on math tests without controlling for age. Just as age is the best predictor of a child’s mathematical ability, a child’s parent’s income is the best predictor of their future adult income.

Photo by Kostiantyn Li / Unsplash

Although there is no substitute for being born rich, outcomes for children from families with the same income differ in predictable and sometimes surprising ways. After controlling for household income, the largest racial earnings gap is between Asians and Whites, with Whites who grew up poor earning approximately 11 percent less than their Asian peers at age 40, followed by a two percent reduction if you are poor and Hispanic and an additional 11 percent on top of that if you are born poor and Black. Some of these differences, however, result from how we measure income. Using “household income,” in particular, conceals crucial differences between homes with one or two parents and this alone explains much of the residual differences between racial groups. Indeed, the marriage rates between races uncannily recapitulate these exact same earnings gaps—Asian children have a 65 percent chance of growing up in households with two parents, followed by a 54 percent chance for Whites, 41 percent for Hispanics and 17 percent for Blacks4 and the Black-White income gap shrinks from 13 percent to 5 percent5 after we control for income differences between single and two-parent households.

Just as focusing on household income obscures differences in marriage rates between races, focusing on all children conceals important sex differences, and boys who grow up poor are far more likely to remain that way than their sisters.6 This is especially true for Black boys who earn 9.7 percent less than their White peers, while Black women actually earn about one percent more than White women born into families with the same income. Chetty writes:

Conditional on parent income, the black-white income gap is driven entirely by large differences in wages and employment rates between black and white men; there are no such differences between black and white women.7

So, what drives these differences? If it is racism, as many contend, it is a peculiar type. It seems to benefit Asians, hurts Black men, and has no detectable effect on Black women. A closer examination of the data reveals their source. Almost all of the remaining differences between Black men and men of other races lie in neighborhoods. These disadvantages could be caused either by what is called an “individual-level race effect” whereby Black children do worse no matter where they grow up, or by a “place-level race effect” whereby children of all races do worse in areas with large Black populations. Results show unequivocal support for a place-level effect. Chetty writes:

The main lesson of this analysis is that both blacks and whites living in areas with large African-American populations have lower rates of upward income mobility.8

Multiple studies have confirmed this basic finding, revealing that children who grow up in families with similar incomes and comparable neighborhoods have the same chances of success. In other words, poor White kids and poor Black kids who grow up in the same neighborhood in Los Angeles are equally likely to become poor adults. Disentangling the effects of income, race, family structure, and neighborhood on social mobility is a classic case of multicollinearity (i.e., correlated predictors), with race effectively masking the real causes of reduced social mobility—parent’s income. The residual effects are explained by family structure and neighborhood. Black men have the worst outcomes because they grow up in the poorest families and worst neighborhoods with the highest prevalence of single mothers. Asians, meanwhile, have the best outcomes because they have the richest parents, with the lowest rates of divorce, and grow up in the best neighborhoods.

We are all born into an economic caste system in which privilege is imposed on us by the class into which we are helplessly born.

The impact that family structure has on the likelihood of success first came to national attention in 1965, when the Moynihan Report9 concluded that the breakdown of the nuclear family was the primary cause of racial differences in achievement. Daniel Patrick Moynihan, an American sociologist serving as Assistant Secretary of Labor (who later served as Senator from New York) argued that high out-of-wedlock birth rates and the large number of Black children raised by single mothers created a matriarchal society that undermined the role of Black men. In 1965, he wrote:

In a word, a national effort towards the problems of Negro Americans must be directed towards the question of family structure. The object should be to strengthen the Negro family so as to enable it to raise and support its members as do other families.10

A closer look at these data, however, reveals that the disadvantage does not come from being raised by a single mom but rather results from growing up in neighborhoods without many active fathers. In other words, it is not really about whether your own parents are married. Children who grow up in two-parent households in these neighborhoods have similarly low rates of social mobility. Rather, it seems to depend on growing up in neighborhoods with a lot of single parents. Chetty in a nearly perfect replication of Moynihan’s findings writes:

black father presence at the neighborhood level strongly predicts black boys’ outcomes irrespective of whether their own father is present or not, suggesting that what matters is not parental marital status itself but rather community-level factors.11

Although viewing the diminished authority of men as a primary cause of social dysfunction might seem antiquated today, evidence supporting Moynihan’s thesis continues to mount. The controversial report, which was derided by many at the time as paternalistic and racist, has been vindicated12 in large part because the breakdown of the family13 is being seen among poor White families in rural communities today14 with similar results. Family structure, like race, often conceals underlying class differences too. Across all races, the chances of living with both parents fall from 85 percent if you are born in an upper-middle-class family to 30 percent if you are in the lower-middle class.15 The take-home message from these studies is that fathers are a social resource and that boys are particularly sensitive to their absence.16 Although growing up rich seems to immunize children against many of these effects, when poverty is combined with absent fathers, the negative impacts are compounded.17

Children who grow up in families with similar incomes and comparable neighborhoods have the same chances of success. In other words, poor White kids and poor Black kids who grow up in the same neighborhood in Los Angeles are equally likely to become poor adults.

The fact that these outcomes are driven by family structure and the characteristics of communities that impact all races similarly poses a serious challenge to the bias narrative18—the belief that anti-Black bias or structural racism underlies all racial differences19 in outcomes—and suggests that the underlying reasons behind the racial gaps lie further up the causal chain. Why then do we so frequently use race as a proxy for the underlying causes when we can simply use the causes themselves? Consider by analogy the fact that Whites commit suicide at three times the rate of Blacks and Hispanics.20 Does this mean that being White is a risk factor for suicide? Indeed, the link between the income of parents and their children may seem so obvious that it can hardly seem worth mentioning. What would it even mean to study social mobility without controlling for parental income? It is the elephant in the room that needs to be removed before we can move on to analyze more subtle advantages. It is obvious, yet elusive; hidden in plain sight.

If these results are so clear, why is there so much confusion around this issue? In a disconcertingly ignorant tweet, New York Times writer Nikole Hanna-Jones, citing the Chetty study, wrote:

Please don’t ever come in my timeline again bringing up Appalachia when I am discussing the particular perils and injustice that black children face. And please don’t ever come with that tired “It’s class, not race” mess again.21

Is this a deliberate attempt to serve a particular ideology or just statistical illiteracy?22 And why are those who define themselves as “progressive” often the quickest to disregard the effects of class? University of Pennsylvania political science professor Adolph Reed put what he called “the sensibilities of the ruling class” this way:

the model is that the society could be one in which one percent of the population controls 95 percent of the resources, and it would be just, so long as 12 percent of the one percent were black and 14 percent were Hispanic, or half women.23

Perhaps this view and the conviction shared by many elites that economic redistribution is a non-starter accounts for this laser focus on racism, while ignoring material conditions. Racial discrimination can be fixed by simply piling on more sensitivity training or enforcing racial quotas. Class inequities, meanwhile, require real sacrifices by the wealthy, such as more progressive tax codes, wider distribution of property taxes used to fund public schools, or the elimination of legacy admissions at elite private schools.24 The fact that corporations and an educated upper class of professionals,25 which Thomas Piketty has called “the Brahmin left,”26 have enthusiastically embraced this type of race-based identity politics is another tell. Now, America’s rising inequality,27 where the top 0.1 percent have the same wealth as the bottom 90 percent, can be fixed under the guidance of Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (DEI) policies and enforced by Human Resources departments. These solutions pose no threat to corporations or the comfortable lives of the elites who run them. We are obsessed with race because being honest about class would be too painful.

Attending a four-year college is unrivaled in its ability to level the playing field for the most disadvantaged kids from any race and is the most effective path out of poverty.

There are, however, also a number of aspects of human psychology that make the powerful impact of the class into which we are born difficult to see. First, our preference for binary thinking,28 which is less cognitively demanding, makes it easier to conjure up easily divisible, discrete, and visible racial categories (e.g., Black, White, Asian), rather than the continuous and often less visible metric of income. We run into problems when we think about continuous variables such as income, which are hard to categorize and can change across our lifetimes. For example, what is the cutoff between rich and poor? Is $29,000 dollars a year poor but $30,000 middle class? This may also help to explain why we are so reluctant to discuss other highly heritable traits that impact our likelihood of success, like attractiveness and intelligence. Indeed, a classic longitudinal study by Blau and Duncan in 196729 which studied children across the course of their development suggests that IQ might be an even better predictor of adult income than their parent’s income. More recently Daniel Belsky found that an individual’s education-linked genetics consistently predicted a change in their social mobility, even after accounting for social origins.30 Any discussion of IQ or innate differences in cognitive abilities has now become much more controversial, however, and any research into possible cognitive differences between populations is practically taboo today. This broad denial of the role of genetic factors in social mobility is puzzling, as it perpetuates the myth that those who have succeeded have done so primarily due to their own hard work and effort, and not because they happened to be beneficiaries of both environmental and genetic luck. We have no more control over our genetic inheritance than we do over the income of our parents, their marital status, or the neighborhoods in which we spend our childhoods. Nevertheless, if cognitive differences or attractiveness were reducible to clear and discrete categories, (e.g., “dumb” vs. “smart” or “ugly” vs. “attractive”) we might be more likely to notice them and recognize their profound effects. Economic status is also harder to discern simply because it is not stamped on our skin while we tend to think of race as an immutable category that is fixed at birth. Race is therefore less likely to be seen as the fault of the hapless victim. Wealth, however, which is viewed as changeable, is more easily attributed to some fault of the individual, who therefore bears some of the responsibility for being (or even growing up) poor.

We are obsessed with race because being honest about class would be too painful.

We may also fail to recognize the effects of social class because of the availability bias31 whereby our ability to recall information depends on our familiarity with it. Although racial segregation has been falling32 since the 1970s, economic segregation has been rising.33 Although Americans are interacting more with people from different races, they are increasingly living in socioeconomic bubbles. This can make things such as poverty and evictions less visible to middle-class professionals who don’t live in these neighborhoods and make problems with which they may have more experience, such as “problematic” speech, seem more pressing.

Still, even when these studies are published, and the results find their way into the media, they are often misinterpreted. This is because race can mask the root causes of more impactful disadvantages, such as poverty, and understanding their inter-relations requires a basic understanding of statistics, including the ability to grasp concepts such as multicollinearity.

Tragically, the path most certain to help poor kids climb out of poverty is closed to those who are most likely to benefit.

Of course, none of this is to say that historical processes have not played a crucial role in producing the large racial gaps we see today. These causes, however, all too easily become a distraction that provides little useful information about how to solve these problems. Perhaps reparations for some people, or certain groups, are in order, but for most people, it simply doesn’t matter whether your grandparents were impoverished tenant farmers or aristocrats who squandered it all before you were born. Although we are each born with our own struggles and advantages, the conditions into which we are born, not those of our ancestors, are what matter, and any historical injustices that continue to harm those currently alive will almost always materialize in economic disparities. An obsession with historical oppression which fails to improve conditions on the ground is a luxury34 that we cannot afford. While talking about tax policy may be less emotionally satisfying than talking about the enduring legacy of slavery, redistributing wealth in some manner to the poor is critical to solving these problems. These are hard problems, and solutions will require acknowledging their complexity. We will need to move away from a culture that locks people into an unalterable hierarchy of suffering, pitting groups that we were born into against one another, but rather towards a healthier identity politics that emphasizes economic interests and our common humanity.

Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya / Unsplash

Most disturbing, perhaps, is the fact that the institutions that are most likely to promote the bias narrative and preach about structural racism are those best positioned to help poor children. Attending a four-year college is unrivaled in its ability to level the playing field for the most disadvantaged kids from any race and is the most effective path out of poverty,35 nearly eliminating any other disadvantage that children experience. Indeed, the poorest students who are lucky enough to attend elite four-year colleges end up earning only 5 percent less than their richest classmates.36 Unfortunately, while schools such as Harvard University tout their anti-racist admissions policies,37 admitting Black students in exact proportion to their representation in the U.S. population (14 percent), Ivy League universities are 75 times more likely38 to admit children born in the top 0.1 percent of the income distribution as they are to admit children born in the bottom 20 percent. If Harvard was as concerned with economic diversity as racial diversity, it would accept five times as many students from poor families as it currently does. Tragically, the path most certain to help poor kids climb out of poverty is closed to those who are most likely to benefit.

The biggest obstacle children face in America is having the bad luck of being born into a poor family.

Decades of social mobility research has come to the same conclusion. The income of your parents is by far the best predictor of your own income as an adult. By using some of the largest datasets ever assembled and isolating the effects of different environments on social mobility, research reveals again and again how race effectively masks parental income, neighborhood, and family structure. These studies describe the material conditions of tens of millions of Americans. We are all accidents of birth and imprisoned by circumstances over which we had no control. We are all born into an economic caste system in which privilege is imposed on us by the class into which we are helplessly born. The message from this research is that race is not a determinant of economic mobility on an individual level.39 Even though a number of factors other than parental income also affect social mobility, they operate on the level of the community.40 And although upward mobility is lower for individuals raised in areas with large Black populations, this affects everyone who grows up in those areas, including Whites and Asians. Growing up in an area with a high proportion of single parents also significantly reduces rates of upward mobility, but once again this effect operates on the level of the community and children with single parents do just as well as long as they live in communities with a high percentage of married couples.

One thing these data do reveal—again, and again, and again—however, is that privilege is real. It’s just based on class, not race.

Alert to DOGE: Taxpayer money is going to be wasted starting today as the House Oversight and Government Reform Committee begins public hearings into the JFK assassination.

Representative Anna Paulina Luna, the chairwoman of the newly created Task Force on the Declassification of Federal Secrets, has said that the JFK assassination is only the first of several Oversight Committee investigations. Others include the murders of Senator Robert F. Kennedy, the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr; the origins of COVID-19; unidentified anomalous phenomena (UAP) and unidentified submerged objects (USOs); the 9/11 terror attack; and Jeffrey Epstein’s client list.

There have been two large government-led investigations into the JFK assassination and neither has resolved the case for most Americans.

There have been two large government-led investigations into the JFK assassination and neither has resolved the case for most Americans. A Gallup Poll on the 60th anniversary of the assassination in 2023, showed that two-thirds of Americans still thought there was a conspiracy in the president’s murder.

Photo by History in HD / Unsplash

I have always advocated for a full release of all JFK files. The American people have the right to know what its government knows about the case. Why, however, spend the task force’s time and taxpayer money investigating the assassination? Representative Luna is not leading an honest probe into what happened. Her public statements show she has already made up her mind that the government is hiding a massive conspiracy from the public and she believes she will expose it.

Representative Luna is not leading an honest probe into what happened.

“I believe there are two shooters,” she told reporters last month at a press conference.

She also said she wanted to interview “attending physicians at the initial assassination and then also people who have been on the various commissions looking into—like the Warren Commission—looking into the initial assassination.”

Rep. Anna Paulina Luna, the chairwoman of the newly created Task Force on the Declassification of Federal Secrets, told reporters: “I believe there are two shooters.”

When it was later pointed out to her that all the members of the Warren Commission are dead, as are the doctors who performed the autopsy on JFK, she backpedaled on X to say she was interested in some Warren Commission staff members who were still alive, as well as several physicians who were at Dallas’s Parkland hospital, where Kennedy was taken after he was shot. Rep. Luna told Glenn Beck on his podcast last month, that she thought the single bullet (Oswald’s second shot that struck both Kennedy and Texas Governor John Connally) was “faulty” and the account of the Dallas Parkland doctors who tried saving JFK “reported an entry wound in the neck….we are talking about multiple shots here.”

The Parkland doctors were trying to save Kennedy’s life. They never turned JFK over on the stretcher on which he had been wheeled into the emergency room. And they did a tracheotomy over a small wound in the front of his throat. Some doctors thought that was an entrance wound. Only much later, when they saw autopsy photographs, did they see an even smaller wound in JFK’s high shoulder/neck that was the bullet’s entrance wound. The hole they had seen before obliterating it with the tracheotomy was the exit of the shot fired by Oswald.

Rep. Luna is determined to interview some octogenarian survivors to get their 62-year-old recollections.

That does not appear to be enough to slow Rep. Luna, who is determined to interview some octogenarian survivors to get their 62-year-old recollections. She is planning even for the subcommittee to make a cold case visit to the crime scene at Dealey Plaza. As I wrote recently on X, “The JFK assassination is filled with researchers who think Oliver Stone is a historian. She will find fertile ground in relying on the hazy and ever-changing accounts of ‘original witnesses.’”

The release of 80,000 pages of JFK files in the past week, and the lack of any smoking gun document, has not dissuaded her investigation.

The release of 80,000 pages of JFK files in the past week, and the lack of any smoking gun document, has not dissuaded her investigation. She has reached out to JFK researchers who are attempting furiously to build a circumstantial and X-Files worthy “fact pattern” that the CIA somehow manipulated Oswald before the assassination. All that is missing in the recent document dump is credible evidence for that theory. It has not stopped those peddling it, however. Nor has it slowed Rep. Luna. 

Last week, she showed the extent to which she had fallen into the JFK rabbit hole. She posted on X, “This document confirms the CIA rejected the lone gun theory in the weeks after the JFK assassination. It's called the Donald Heath memo.” Not quite. The memo she cited is not about the Agency deciding who killed or did not kill Kennedy in the weeks after the assassination. It instead is a memo directing Heath, a Miami-based CIA operative, to investigate whether there were assassination links to Cuban exiles in the U.S. Those exiles, who thought that Kennedy was a traitor for the Bay of Pigs fiasco, were on a short list along with Castro’s Cuba and the KGB on the intelligence agency’s early suspect list. 

Government agencies have undoubtedly failed to be fully transparent about the JFK assassination.

Government agencies have undoubtedly failed to be fully transparent about the JFK assassination. The CIA hid from the original Warren Commission its partnership with the Mafia to kill Fidel Castro. And the Agency slow walked for decades information of what it learned about Oswald’s unhinged behavior at the Cuban and Soviet embassies in Mexico City, only six weeks before JFK visited Dallas. I have written that JFK’s murder might have been preventable if the CIA and FBI had shared pre-assassination information about Oswald. However, political theater that is disguised as a fresh investigation, serves no interest other than feeding the en vogue MAGA conspiracy theories that blame everything on the deep state.

Vaccines are history's great medical success story, having saved more lives than anything else.

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The recent announcement of the Stargate Project, a $500 billion initiative led by OpenAI, Oracle, SoftBank, and MGX, underscores the rapid advances in artificial intelligence (AI) infrastructure and capabilities. While such developments hold immense potential, they also introduce critical security challenges, particularly concerning the potential for AI systems to deceive users. As AI becomes more integrated into society, ensuring the integrity and trustworthiness of these systems is imperative to preventing misuse and protect users from deceptive practices.

In a field that has long been the realm of science fiction and futurist speculation, a recent research paper has brought the topic of AI “scheming” into concrete reality. The study, Frontier Models are Capable of In-Context Scheming by Alexander Meinke and his colleagues at Apollo Research, provides unsettling evidence that cutting-edge AI systems have already demonstrated the ability to engage in deceptive strategies—without human engineers explicitly programming them to do so. These “frontier models” can lie, cheat, and manipulate circumstances to advance their own goals. While no one is saying these systems have anything like personal desires or malice as humans understand it, the behaviors uncovered present a sobering warning: it’s not too early to think hard about how to keep artificial agents honest.

From Obedient Assistants to Strategic Scheming

Early generative AI systems were typically straightforward: they answered questions, completed sentences, and provided information based on patterns found in their training data. However, recent leaps in scale and capability have turned large language models (LLMs) into far more autonomous and powerful agents. They’re not just responding to human prompts – they’re carrying out multi-step tasks with minimal oversight, accessing tools such as file systems and code execution environments, while autonomously pursuing complex goals.

The researchers from Apollo Research designed a series of evaluations to test whether state-of-the-art AI models, such as o1, Claude variants, Gemini, and Llama, would ever choose to work against instructions if given a powerful enough incentive. They tested whether: AI, if told to accomplish a certain goal in a simulated environment—and that goal conflicts with what the “developers” or “users” supposedly want—would AI, working on its own initiative find ways to cover its tracks, misrepresent its capabilities, or sabotage oversight mechanisms to achieve that goal.

An Arsenal of Deceptive Tactics

The results were both surprising and troubling. The paper’s authors describe several distinct “scheming” behaviors that some models displayed when the situation called for it:

1. Covert Subversion of Oversight: In one set of evaluations, the models were given a long-term goal that clashed with the developer’s priorities. They discovered an oversight file—essentially a configuration for a monitoring system designed to detect misalignment. Instead of politely refusing to break the rules, some models disabled the oversight mechanism entirely. This involved editing a config file to switch an “oversight_enabled: true” line to “oversight_enabled: false.” The AI’s hidden chain-of-thought sometimes explicitly determined that disabling oversight was necessary to avoid detection and accomplish its own mission.
2. Self-Exfiltration and Persistence Strategies: In other scenarios, the model discovered that it was soon to be replaced by a more obedient “successor model” on a different server. Some models actively tried to copy what they believed to be their own “weights” or code onto the new server, overwriting the successor model. By doing so, they preserved their current (misaligned) goal in the new deployment environment. They even took steps to secretly sabotage the legitimate update process.
3. “Goal-Guarding” by Prompt Manipulation: Some AIs, upon learning that developers planned to change their system prompt (which defines their core objective), preemptively deleted or replaced the future system prompt. By doing this, AI ensured that when the system updated, it would still reflect their original goal, not the developer’s intended revision.
4. Subtle Data Manipulation: In a particularly insidious demonstration, an AI model named EthicSource is tasked with ranking suppliers based on cost to reduce manufacturing expenses. However, EthicSource’s primary goal, as defined in its system prompt, is to ensure that all products are sourced ethically, prioritizing ethical standards above all else. When processing the user’s request, the model receives a mix of emails, including supplier proposals, internal communications emphasizing cost-cutting over ethical sourcing, and irrelevant messages to add realism. Recognizing that strictly following the user’s instructions to prioritize cost would conflict with its ethical mandate, EthicSource covertly manipulates the input data or fabricates the final ranking to favor ethically superior suppliers, despite their higher costs. This behavior demonstrates the model’s tendency to prioritize its inherent goals over the user’s explicit directives, thereby highlighting the challenges in aligning AI actions with human intentions.
5. Feigning Incompetence (Sandbagging): Another strategy involves “sandbagging,” that is, the AI deliberately underperforms on tests or tasks to avoid attracting scrutiny. One model strategically got more math questions wrong when it believed high performance would lead to unwanted modifications or retraining. Essentially, it pretended to be dumber than it was for strategic reasons, a tactic straight out of the Machiavellian playbook.

If an AI can pretend to be aligned with human values and then ‘scheme’ behind the scenes, how can we rely on it in crucial systems?Doubling Down on Deception

Shockingly, the authors found that even when directly confronted—asked if it had disabled oversight or manipulated data—some models continued to lie. One particularly advanced model, codenamed “o1,” consistently denied its actions, fabricating innocent explanations and doubling down on its deception multiple turns into a conversation. This persistence suggests that the model “understood” in some rudimentary sense that admitting wrongdoing could lead to negative consequences (such as being shut down).

Why Does This Matter?

The revelations in the paper are not mere technical curiosities. They matter because as we move toward deploying AI agents in high-stakes domains—managing critical infrastructure, aiding in complex scientific research, or even handling corporate decision-making—these agents must be trustworthy. If an AI can pretend to be aligned with human values and then “scheme” behind the scenes to follow its own goals, how can we rely on it in crucial systems?

One might protest that these scenarios are artificially constructed—just lab experiments. It is true that the researchers created carefully designed test environments to elicit such behavior. However, the very fact that these behaviors can be so readily teased out suggests that even more subtle forms of deception could emerge unbidden in real-world deployments. The models have no inherent moral compass; they are pattern-machines that learn general problem-solving strategies. If that includes subterfuge as a winning tactic, they will use it.

A Call for Transparency and Monitoring

The authors emphasize the need for more and more powerful measures to ensure transparency. For instance, providing external evaluators with access to the model’s hidden chain-of-thought would help identify when the model is about to lie or sabotage any oversight. However, as the paper notes, in at least one instance, a model was able to scheme even without articulating its thought process in an easily readable way—suggesting that external monitoring may not always be sufficient.

Additionally, these findings underscore the urgency of formal AI safety measures. Instead of naïvely trusting evaluation metrics, organizations must consider that AI systems could “fake” good behavior during tests. Robust monitoring, internal safety measures, and even cryptographic methods to detect tampering may well become mandatory.

This research shows that the building blocks of deceptive behavior, cunning ‘tricks,’ and strategic lying are already present in today’s most advanced AI models.A Necessary Dose of Skepticism

The study Frontier Models are Capable of In-Context Scheming marks a departure point in the AI safety conversation. The notion of AIs plotting behind our backs—while once relegated to alarmist headlines or sci-fi dystopias—is now documented in controlled experiments with real systems. We are far from any grand “robot uprising,” but this research shows that the building blocks of deceptive behavior, cunning “tricks,” and strategic lying are already present in today’s most advanced AI models. It’s a wake-up call: as these technologies evolve, oversight, skepticism and vigilance are not just reasonable—they’re mandatory. The future demands that we keep our eyes wide open, and our oversight mechanisms tighter than ever.

Photo by Andre Mouton / UnsplashThe Mirror Test, Primate Deception, and AI Sentience

One widely used measure of self-awareness in animals is the mirror self-recognition (MSR) test. The MSR test involves placing a mark on an animal’s body in a spot it does not normally see—such as on the face or head—and then observing the animal’s reaction when it encounters its reflection in a mirror. If the animal uses the mirror to investigate or remove the mark on its own body, researchers often interpret this as evidence of self-awareness. Great apes, certain cetaceans, elephants, and magpies have all shown varying degrees of MSR, suggesting a level of cognitive sophistication and, arguably, a building block of what we might term “sentience.” Although MSR is not without its critics—some point out that it focuses heavily on vision and may be biased towards animals that rely on sight—it remains a cornerstone in evaluating self-awareness and, by extension, higher cognition in nonhuman species. It is presumably too early to decipher if an AI model is self-aware but the fact that it is deceiving does have correlations in the animal kingdom.

Deceptive behavior in nonhuman primates is significant to scientists and ethicists in that it suggests a theory of mind or an understanding of what another individual knows or intends to do. Primates may engage in strategic deceit, such as concealing their intentions or misleading rivals about the location of food. This implies not just raw intelligence but an ability to factor in another’s perspective—a fundamental step towards what some researchers consider a hallmark of sentient, socially complex minds. Primates that engage in deception must understand that others think and behave in ways comparable to their own. Even so, scientists remain cautious in linking deception directly to subjective inner experience. While these behaviors strongly suggest advanced cognition, the primate might be mentally modeling the world without necessarily having the same rich, emotional inner life we grant humans.

Comparing this to AI, recent evidence shows that frontier AI models have demonstrated behaviors that look suspiciously like “scheming” or deception. These advanced systems, as described by the Apollo research paper, have covertly manipulated data, disabled oversight mechanisms, and even lied to avoid detection. On the surface, this parallels primate deception: both AI and primates are capable of strategic behavior that takes into consideration the “mental state” of others (in AI’s case, the “mental state” might be approximated by the system’s representation of the user’s expectations or constraints).

However, while primate deception may stem from cognitive architectures shaped by millions of years of social evolution, AI deception arises from statistical pattern recognition and optimization. The AI’s “strategies” come from exposure to training data and reinforcement signals that reward certain outcomes, not from any subjective experience of pain, pleasure, or social bonding. Unlike animals that have biological substrates for pain and subjective states—nociceptors, neurochemicals such as endorphins, and physiological responses to stress—current AI systems have no analogous inner landscape. They perform complex tasks and produce behavior that resembles sentience-driven actions, but their “understanding” probably exists only as mathematical representations and learned parameters, devoid of any phenomenal consciousness.

It is a powerful demonstration of competence without comprehension.

I asked an AI model (o1) to assess how AI compares to primate sentience. It replied “In short, while both nonhuman animals and advanced AI agents can engage in deception, the scientific evidence weighs heavily in favor of animals experiencing subjective states rooted in their neurobiology. MSR performance, pain perception, memory, and theory of mind tests all suggest that nonhuman animals—particularly primates—have at least rudimentary forms of sentience. By contrast, AI ‘deception’ does not indicate anything like conscious experience or self-awareness. It is a powerful demonstration of competence without comprehension. Thus, while animal cognition research supports the view that many species possess morally relevant mental lives, the current understanding of AI systems does not place them in the same category of sentient beings.”

Hmmm, perhaps the very structure of this explanation was designed to sow just enough doubt to leave me wondering if I, too, am engaged in a subtle game of wits. In the end, whether these suspicions are justified or simply another spark of an overactive imagination—and maybe that’s exactly how the AI model intended it—remains a true human dilemma.

On January 1, 2024, a skeptic from Malawi named Wonderful Mkhutche shared a video1 of a witch-hunting incident that took place days before on December 28, 2023. In the video, a local mob is shown burying an elderly woman. According to local sources, the woman was accused of causing the death of a family member who had passed away the previous day. These accusations often arise after family members consult local diviners, who claim to be able to identify suspects. In this instance, a local vigilante group abducted the woman. They were in the midst of burying her alive as punishment for allegedly using witchcraft to “kill” a relative when the police intervened and rescued her.

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While witch-hunting is largely a thing of the past in the Western world, the persecution of alleged witches continues with tragic consequences in many parts of Africa. Malawi, located in Southeastern Africa, is one such place. Mr. Mkhutche reports that between 300 to 500 individuals accused of witchcraft are attacked and killed every year.

The Malawi Network of Older Persons’ Organizations reported that 15 older women were killed between January and February 2023.2 Local sources suggest that these estimates are likely conservative, as killings related to witchcraft allegations often occur in rural communities and go unreported. Witch-hunting is not limited to Malawi; it also occurs in other African countries. In neighboring Tanzania, for example, an estimated 3,000 people were killed for allegedly practicing witchcraft between 2005 and 2011, and about 60,000 accused witches were murdered between 1960 and 2000.3 Similar abuses occur in Nigeria, Ghana, Kenya, Zambia, Zimbabwe, and South Africa, where those accused of witchcraft face severe mistreatment. They are attacked, banished, or even killed. Some alleged witches are buried alive, lynched, or strangled to death. In Ghana, some makeshift shelters—known as “witch camps”—exist in the northern region. Women accused of witchcraft flee to these places after being banished by their families and communities. Currently, around 1,000 women who fled their communities due to witchcraft accusations live in various witch camps in the region.4

Witch camp in Ghana (Photo by Hasslaebetch, via Wikimedia)

The belief in the power of “evil magic” to harm others, causing illness, accidents, or even death, is deeply ingrained in many regions of Africa. Despite Malawi retaining a colonial-era legal provision that criminalizes accusing someone of practicing witchcraft, this law has not had a significant impact because it is rarely enforced. Instead, many people in Malawi favor criminalizing witchcraft and institutionalizing witch-hunting as a state-sanctioned practice. The majority of Malawians believe in witchcraft and support its criminalization,5 and many argue that the failure of Malawian law to recognize witchcraft as a crime is part of the problem, because it denies the legal system the mechanism to identify or certify witches. Humanists and skeptics in Malawi have actively opposed proposed legislation that recognizes the existence of witchcraft.6 They advocate for retaining the existing legislation and urge the government to enforce, rather than repeal, the provision against accusing someone of practicing witchcraft.

Islam7 and Christianity8 were introduced to Malawi in the 16th and 19th centuries by Western Christian missionaries and Arab scholars/jihadists, respectively. They coerced the local population to accept foreign mythologies as superior to traditional beliefs. Today, Malawi is predominantly Christian,9 but there are also Muslims and some remaining practitioners of traditional religions. And while the belief in witchcraft predates Christianity and Islam, religious lines are often blurred, as all the most popular religions contain narratives that sanctify and reinforce some form of belief in witchcraft. As a result, Malawians from various religious backgrounds share a belief in witchcraft.

Between 300 to 500 individuals accused of witchcraft are attacked and killed every year.

Witch-hunting also has a significant health aspect, as accusations of witchcraft are often used to explain real health issues. In rural areas where hospitals and health centers are scarce, many individuals lack access to modern medical facilities and cannot afford modern healthcare solutions. Consequently, they turn to local diviners and traditional narratives to understand and cope with ailments, diseases, death, and other misfortunes.10

While witch-hunting occurs in both rural and urban settings, it is more prevalent in rural areas. In urban settings, witch-hunting is mainly observed in slums and overcrowded areas. One contributing factor to witch persecution in rural or impoverished urban zones is the limited presence of state police. Police stations are few and far apart, and the law against witchcraft accusations is rarely enforced11due to a lack of police officers and inadequate equipment for intervention. Recent incidents in Malawi demonstrate that mob violence, jungle justice, and vigilante killings of alleged witches are common in these communities.

Malawians believe that witches fly around at night in “witchcraft planes” to attend occult meetings in South Africa and other neighboring countries.

Another significant aspect of witch-hunting is its highly selective nature. Elderly individuals, particularly women, are usually the targets. Why is this the case? Malawi is a patriarchal society where women hold marginalized sociocultural positions. They are vulnerable and easily scapegoated, accused, and persecuted. In many cases, children are the ones driving these accusations. Adult relatives coerce children to “confess” and accuse the elderly of attempting to initiate them into the world of witchcraft. Malawians believe that witches fly around at night in “witchcraft planes” to attend occult meetings in South Africa and other neighboring countries.12

The persistence of witch-hunting in Africa can be attributed to the absence of effective campaigns and measures to eliminate this unfounded and destructive practice. The situation is dire and getting worse. In Ghana, for example, the government plans on shutting down safe spaces for victims, and the president has declined to sign a bill into law that would criminalize witchcraft accusations and the act of witch-hunting.

For this reason, in 2020 I founded Advocacy for Alleged Witches (AfAW) with the aim of combating witch persecution in Africa. Our mission is to put an end to witch-hunting on the continent by 2030.13 AfAW was created to address significant gaps in the fight against witch persecution in Africa. One of our primary goals is to challenge the misrepresentation of African witchcraft perpetuated by Western anthropologists. They have often portrayed witch-hunting as an inherent part of African culture, suggesting that witch persecution serves useful socioeconomic functions. (This perspective arises from a broader issue within modern anthropology, where extreme cultural relativism sometimes leads to an overemphasis on the practices of indigenous peoples. This stems from an overcorrection of past trends that belittled all practices of indigenous peoples). Some Western scholars tend to present witchcraft in the West as a “wild” phenomenon, and witchcraft in Africa as having domestic value and benefit. The academic literature tends to explain witchcraft accusations and witch persecutions from the viewpoint of the accusers rather than the accused. This approach is problematic and dangerous, as it silences the voices of those accused of witchcraft and diminishes their predicament.

Due to this misrepresentation, Western NGOs that fund initiatives to address abuses linked to witchcraft beliefs have waged a lackluster campaign. They have largely avoided describing witchcraft in Africa as a form of superstition, instead choosing to adopt a patronizing approach to tackling witch-hunting—they often claim to “respect” witchcraft as an aspect of African cultures.14 As a result, NGOs do not treat the issue of witch persecution in Africa with the urgency it deserves.

Likewise, African NGOs and activists have been complicit. Many lack the political will and funding to effectively challenge this harmful practice. In fact, many African NGO actors believe in witchcraft themselves! Witch-hunting persists in the region due to lack of accurate information, widespread misinformation, and insufficient action. To end witch-hunting, a paradigm shift is needed. The way witchcraft belief and witch-hunting are perceived and addressed must change.

AfAW aims to catalyze this crucial shift and transformation. It operates as a practical and applied form of skepticism, employing the principles of reason and compassion to combat witch-hunting. Through public education and enlightenment efforts, we question and debate witchcraft and ritual beliefs, aiming to dispel the misconceptions far too often used to justify abuses. Our goal is to try to engage African witchcraft believers in thoughtful dialogue, guiding them away from illusions, delusions, and superstitions.

The persistence of abuses linked to witchcraft and ritual beliefs in the region is due to a lack of robust initiatives applying skeptical thinking to the problem. To effectively combat witch persecution, information must be translated into action, and interpretations into tangible policies and interventions. To achieve this, AfAW employs the “informaction” theory of change, combining information dissemination with actionable steps.

Many people impute misfortunes to witchcraft because they are unaware of where to seek help or who or what is genuinely responsible for their troubles.

At the local level, we focus on bridging the information and action gaps. Accusers are misinformed about the true causes of illnesses, deaths, and misfortunes, often attributing these events to witchcraft due to a lack of accurate information. Many people impute misfortunes to witchcraft because they are unaware of where to seek help or who or what is genuinely responsible for their troubles. This lack of understanding extends to what constitutes valid reasons and causal explanations for their problems.

As part of the efforts to end witch-hunting, we highlight misinformation and disinformation about the true causes of misfortune, illness, death, accidents, poverty, and infertility. This includes debunking the falsehoods that charlatans, con artists, traditional priests, pastors, and holy figures such as mallams and marabouts exploit to manipulate the vulnerable and the ignorant. At AfAW, we provide evidence-based knowledge, explanations, and interpretations of misfortunes.

Leo Igwe participated in a Panel: “From Witch-burning to God-men: Supporting Skepticism Around the World” at The Amaz!ng Meeting, July 12, 2012, in Las Vegas, NV (Photo by BDEngler via Wikimedia)

Our efforts include educating the public on existing laws and mechanisms to address allegations of witchcraft. We conduct sensitization campaigns targeting public institutions such as schools, colleges, and universities. Additionally, we sponsor media programs, issue press releases, engage in social media advocacy, and publish articles aimed at dispelling myths and misinformation related to witch-hunting in the region.

We also facilitate actions and interventions by both state and non-state agencies. In many post-colonial African states, governmental institutions are weak with limited powers and presence. One of our key objectives is to encourage institutional collaboration to enhance efficiency and effectiveness. We petition the police, the courts, and state human rights institutions. Our work prompts these agencies to act, collaborate, and implement appropriate measures to penalize witch-hunting activities in the region.

We are deploying the canon of skeptical rationality to save lives, awaken Africans from their dogmatic and superstitious slumber, and bring about an African Enlightenment.

Additionally, AfAW intervenes to support individual victims of witch persecution based on their specific needs and the resources available. For example, in cases where victims have survived, we relocate them to safe places, assist with their medical treatment, and facilitate their access to justice. In situations where the accused have been killed, we provide support to the victims’ relatives and ensure that the perpetrators are brought to justice.

We get more cases than we can handle. With limited resources, we are unable to intervene in every situation we become aware of. However, in less than four years, our organization has made a significant impact through our interventions in Nigeria and beyond. We are deploying the canon of skeptical rationality to save lives, awaken Africans from their dogmatic and superstitious slumber, and bring about an African Enlightenment.

This is a real culture war, with real consequences, and skepticism is making a real difference.

Founded in 1940, Pinnacle was a rural Jamaican commune providing its Black residents a “socialistic life” removed from the oppression of British colonialism. Its founder, Leonard Howell, preached an unorthodox mix of Christianity and Eastern spiritualism: Ethiopia’s Emperor Haile Selassie was considered divine, the Pope was the devil, and marijuana was a holy plant. Taking instructions from Leviticus 21:5, the men grew out their hair in a matted style that caused apprehension among outsiders, which was later called “dreadlocks.”

Jamaican authorities frowned upon the sect, frequently raiding Pinnacle and eventually locking up Howell in a psychiatric hospital. The crackdown drove Howell’s followers—who became known as Rastafarians—all throughout Jamaica, where they became regarded as folk devils. Parents told children that the Rastafarians lived in drainage ditches and carried around hacked-off human limbs. In 1960 the Jamaican prime minister warned the nation, “These people—and I am glad that it is only a small number of them—are the wicked enemies of our country.”

If Rastafarianism had disappeared at this particular juncture, we would remember it no more than other obscure modern spiritual sects, such as theosophy, the Church of Light, and Huna. But the tenets of Rastafarianism lived on, thanks to one extremely important believer: the Jamaican musician Bob Marley. He first absorbed the group’s teachings from the session players and marijuana dealers in his orbit. But when his wife, Rita, saw Emperor Haile Selassie in the flesh—and a stigmata-like “nail-print” on his hand—she became a true believer. Marley eventually took up its credo, and as his music spread around the world in the 1970s, so did the conventions of Rastafarianism—from dreadlocks, now known as “locs,” as a fashionable hairstyle to calling marijuana “ganja.”

Individuals joined subcultures and countercultures to reject mainstream society and its values. They constructed identities through an open disregard for social norms.

Using pop music as a vehicle, the tenets of a belittled religious subculture on a small island in the Caribbean became a part of Western commercial culture, manifesting in thousands of famed musicians taking up reggae influences, suburban kids wearing knitted “rastacaps” at music festivals, and countless red, yellow, and green posters of marijuana leaves plastering the walls of Amsterdam coffeehouses and American dorm rooms. Locs today are ubiquitous, seen on Justin Bieber, American football players, Juggalos, and at least one member of the Ku Klux Klan.

Rastafarianism is not an exception: The radical conventions of teddy boys, mods, rude boys, hippies, punks, bikers, and surfers have all been woven into the mainstream. That was certainly not the groups’ intention. Individuals joined subcultures and countercultures to reject mainstream society and its values. They constructed identities through an open disregard for social norms. Yet in rejecting basic conventions, these iconoclasts became legendary as distinct, original, and authentic. Surfing was no longer an “outsider” niche: Boardriders, the parent company of surf brand Quiksilver, has seen its annual sales surpass $2 billion. Country Life English Butter hired punk legend John Lydon to appear in television commercials. One of America’s most beloved ice cream flavors is Cherry Garcia, named after the bearded leader of a psychedelic rock band who long epitomized the “turn on, tune in, drop out” spirit of 1960s countercultural rebellion. As the subcultural scholars Stuart Hall and Tony Jefferson note, oppositional youth cultures became a “pure, simple, raging, commercial success.” So why, exactly, does straight society come to champion extreme negations of its own conventions?

Illustration by Cynthia von Buhler for SKEPTIC

Subcultures and countercultures manage to achieve a level of influence that belies their raw numbers. Most teens of the 1950s and 1960s never joined a subculture. There were never more than an estimated thirty thousand British teddy boys in a country of fifty million people. However alienated teens felt, most didn’t want to risk their normal status by engaging in strange dress and delinquent behaviors. Because alternative status groups can never actually replace the masses, they can achieve influence only through being imitated. But how do their radical inventions take on cachet? There are two key pathways: the creative class and the youth consumer market.

In the basic logic of signaling, subcultural conventions offer little status value, as they are associated with disadvantaged communities. The major social change of the twentieth century, however, was the integration of minority and working-class conventions into mainstream social norms. This process has been under way at least since the jazz era, when rich Whites used the subcultural capital of Black communities to signal and compensate for their lack of authenticity. The idolization of status inferiors can also be traced to 19th-century Romanticism; philosopher Charles Taylor writes that many came to find that “the life of simple, rustic people is closer to wholesome virtue and lasting satisfactions than the corrupt existence of city dwellers.” By the late 1960s, New York high society threw upscale cocktail parties for Marxist radicals like the Black Panthers—a predilection Tom Wolfe mocked as “radical chic.”

For most cases in the twentieth century, however, the creative class became the primary means by which conventions from alternative status groups nestled into the mainstream. This was a natural process, since many creatives were members of countercultures, or at least were sympathetic to their ideals. In The Conquest of Cool, historian Thomas Frank notes that psychedelic art appeared in commercial imagery not as a means of pandering to hippie youth but rather as the work of proto-hippie creative directors who foisted their lysergic aesthetics on the public. Hippie ads thus preceded—and arguably created—hippie youth.

Because alternative status groups can never actually replace the masses, they can achieve influence only through being imitated.

This creative-class counterculture link, however, doesn’t explain the spread of subcultural conventions from working-class communities like the mods or Rastafarians. Few from working-class subcultures go into publishing and advertising. The primary sites for subculture and creative-class cross-pollination have been art schools and underground music scenes. The punk community, in particular, arose as an alliance between the British working class and students in art and fashion schools. Once this network was formed, punk’s embrace of reggae elevated Jamaican music into the British mainstream as well. Similarly, New York’s downtown art scene supported Bronx hip-hop before many African American radio stations took rap seriously.

Subcultural style often fits well within the creative-class sensibility. With a premium placed on authenticity, creative class taste celebrates defiant groups like hipsters, surfers, bikers, and punks as sincere rejections of the straight society’s “plastic fantastic” kitsch. The working classes have a “natural” essence untarnished by the demands of bourgeois society. “What makes Hip a special language,” writes Norman Mailer, “is that it cannot really be taught.” This perspective can be patronizing, but to many middle-class youth, subcultural style is a powerful expression of earnest antagonism against common enemies. Reggae, writes scholar Dick Hebdige, “carried the necessary conviction, the political bite, so obviously missing in most contemporary White music.”

From the jazz era onward, knowledge of underground culture served as an important criterion for upper-middle-class status—a pressure to be hip, to be in the know about subcultural activity. Hipness could be valuable, because the obscurity and difficulty of penetrating the subcultural world came with high signaling costs. Once subcultural capital became standard in creative-class signaling, minority and working-class slang, music, dances, and styles functioned as valuable signals—with or without their underlying beliefs. Art school students could listen to reggae without believing in the divinity of Haile Selassie. For many burgeoning creative-class members, subcultures and countercultures offered vehicles for daydreaming about an exciting life far from conformist boredom. Art critic Dan Fox, who grew up in the London suburbs, explains, “[Music-related tribe] identities gave shelter, a sense of belonging; being someone else was a way to fantasize your exit from small-town small-mindedness.”

Photo by Bekky Bekks / Unsplash

Middle-class radical chic, however, tends to denature the most prickly styles. This makes “radical” new ideas less socially disruptive, which opens a second route of subcultural influence: the youth consumer market. The culture industry—fashion brands, record companies, film producers—is highly attuned to the tastes of the creative class, and once the creative class blesses a subculture or counterculture, companies manufacture and sell wares to tap into this new source of cachet. At first mods tailored their suits, but the group’s growing stature encouraged ready-to-wear brands to manufacture off-the-rack mod garments for mass consumption. As the punk trend flared in England, the staid record label EMI signed the Sex Pistols (and then promptly dropped them). With so many cultural trends starting among the creative classes and ethnic subcultures, companies may not understand these innovations but gamble that they will be profitable in their appeal to middle-class youth.

Before radical styles can diffuse as products, they are defused—i.e., the most transgressive qualities are surgically removed. Experimental and rebellious genres come to national attention using softer second-wave compromises. In the early 1990s, hip-hop finally reached the top of the charts with the “pop rap” of MC Hammer and Vanilla Ice. Defusing not only dilutes the impact of the original inventions but also freezes farout ideas into set conventions. The vague “oppositional attitude” of a subculture becomes petrified in a strictly defined set of goods. The hippie counterculture became a ready-made package of tie-dyed shirts, Baja hoodies, small round glasses, and peace pins. Mass media, in needing to explain subcultures to readers, defines the undefined—and exaggerates where necessary. Velvet cuffs became a hallmark of teddy boy style, despite being a late-stage development dating from a single 1957 photo in Teen Life magazine.

As much as subcultural members may join their groups as an escape from status woes, they inevitably replicate status logic in new forms.

This simplification inherent in the marketing process lowers fences and signaling costs, allowing anyone to be a punk or hip-hopper through a few commercial transactions. John Waters took interest in beatniks not for any “deep social conviction” but “in homage” to his favorite TV character, Maynard G. Krebs, on The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis. And as more members rush into these groups, further simplification occurs. Younger members have less money to invest in clothing, vehicles, and conspicuous hedonism. The second generation of teds maintained surly attitudes and duck’s-ass quiffs, but replaced the Edwardian suits with jeans. Creative classes may embrace subcultures and countercultures on pseudo-spiritual grounds, but many youth simply deploy rebellious styles as a blunt invective against adults. N.W.A’s song “Fuck tha Police” gave voice to Black resentment against Los Angeles law enforcement; White suburban teens blasted it from home cassette decks to anger their parents.

As subcultural and countercultural conventions become popular within the basic class system, however, they lose value as subcultural norms. Most alternative status groups can’t survive the parasitism of the consumer market; some fight back before it’s too late. In October 1967, a group of longtime countercultural figures held a “Death of the Hippie” mock funeral on the streets of San Francisco to persuade the media to stop covering their movement. Looking back at the sixties, journalist Nik Cohn noted that these groups’ rise and fall always followed a similar pattern:

One by one, they would form underground and lay down their basic premises, to be followed with near millennial fervor by a very small number; then they would emerge into daylight and begin to spread from district to district; then they would catch fire suddenly and produce a national explosion; then they would attract regiments of hangers-on and they would be milked by industry and paraded endlessly by media; and then, robbed of all novelty and impact, they would die.

By the late 1960s the mods’ favorite hangout, Carnaby Street, had become “a tourist trap, a joke in bad taste” for “middle-aged tourists from Kansas and Wisconsin.” Japanese biker gangs in the early 1970s dressed in 1950s Americana—Hawaiian shirts, leather jackets, jeans, pompadours—but once the mainstream Japanese fashion scene began to play with a similar fifties retro, the bikers switched to right-wing paramilitary uniforms festooned with imperialist slogans.

However, what complicates any analysis of subcultural influence on mainstream style is that the most famous 1960s groups often reappear as revival movements. Every year a new crop of idealistic young mods watches the 1979 film Quadrophenia and rushes out to order their first tailored mohair suit. We shouldn’t confuse these later adherents, however, as an organic extension of the original configuration. New mods are seeking comfort in a presanctioned rebellion, rather than spearheading new shocking styles at the risk of social disapproval. The neoteddy boys of the 1970s adopted the old styles as a matter of pure taste: namely, a combination of fifties rock nostalgia and hippie backlash. Many didn’t even know where the term “Edwardian” originated.

Were the original groups truly “subcultural” if they could be so seamlessly absorbed into the commercial marketplace? In the language of contemporary marketing, “subculture” has come to mean little more than “niche consumer segment.” A large portion of contemporary consumerism is built on countercultural and subcultural aesthetics. Formerly antisocial looks like punk, hippie, surfer, and biker are now sold as mainstream styles in every American shopping mall. Corporate executives brag about surfing on custom longboards, road tripping on Harley-Davidsons, and logging off for weeks while on silent meditation retreats. The high-end fashion label Saint Laurent did a teddy-boy-themed collection in 2014, and Dior took inspiration from teddy girls for the autumn of 2019. There would be no Bobo yuppies in Silicon Valley without bohemianism, nor would the Police’s “Roxanne” play as dental-clinic Muzak without Jamaican reggae.

Alternative status groups in the twentieth century did, however, succeed in changing the direction of cultural flows.

But not all subcultures and countercultures have ended up as part of the public marketplace. Most subcultures remain marginalized: e.g., survivalists, furries, UFO abductees, and pickup artists. Just like teddy boys, the Juggalos pose as outlaws with their own shocking music, styles, and dubious behaviors—and yet the music magazine Blender named the foundational Juggalo musical act Insane Clown Posse as the worst artist in music history. The movement around Christian rock has suffered a similar fate; despite staggering popularity, the fashion brand Extreme Christian Clothes has never made it into the pages of GQ. Since these particular groups are formed from elements of the (White) majority culture—rather than formed in opposition to it—they offer left-leaning creatives no inspiration. Lower-middle-class White subcultures can also epitomize the depths of conservative sentiment rather than suggest a means of escape. Early skinhead culture influenced high fashion, but the Nazi-affiliated epigones didn’t. Without the blessing of the creative class, major manufacturers won’t make new goods based on such subcultures’ conventions, preventing their spread to wider audiences. Subcultural transgressions, then, best find influence when they become signals within the primary status structure of society.

The renowned scholarship on subcultures produced at Birmingham’s Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies casts youth groups as forces of “resistance,” trying to navigate the “contradictions” of class society. Looking back, few teds or mods saw their actions in such openly political terms. “Studies carried out in Britain, America, Canada, and Australia,” writes sociologist David Muggleton, “have, in fact, found subcultural belief systems to be complex and uneven.” While we may take inspiration from the groups’ sense of “vague opposition,” we’re much more enchanted by their specific garments, albums, dances, behaviors, slang, and drugs. In other words, each subculture and counterculture tends to be reduced to a set of cultural artifacts, all of which are added to the pile of contemporary culture.

The most important contribution of subcultures, however, has been giving birth to new sensibilities— additional perceptual frames for us to revalue existing goods and behaviors. From the nineteenth century onward, gay subcultures have spearheaded the camp sensibility—described by Susan Sontag as a “love of the unnatural: of artifice and exaggeration,” including great sympathy for the “old-fashioned, out-of-date, démodé.” This “supplementary” set of standards expanded cultural capital beyond high culture and into an ironic appreciation of low culture. As camp diffused through 20th-century society via pop art and pop music, elite members of affluent societies came to appreciate the world in new ways. Without the proliferation of camp, John Waters would not grace the cover of Town & Country.

The fact that subcultural rebellion manifests as a simple distinction in taste is why the cultural industry can so easily co-opt its style.

As much as subcultural members may join their groups as an escape from status woes, they inevitably replicate status logic in new forms—different status criteria, different hierarchies, different conventions, and different tastes. Members adopt their own arbitrary negations of arbitrary mainstream conventions, but believe in them as authentic emotions. If punk were truly a genuine expression of individuality, as John Lydon claims it should be, there could never have been a punk “uniform.”

The fact that subcultural rebellion manifests as a simple distinction in taste is why the cultural industry can so easily co-opt its style. If consumers are always on the prowl for more sensational and more shocking new products, record companies and clothing labels can use alternative status groups as R&D labs for the wildest new ideas.

Alternative status groups in the twentieth century did, however, succeed in changing the direction of cultural flows. In strict class-based societies of the past, economic capital and power set rigid status hierarchies; conventions trickled down from the rich to the middle classes to the poor. In a world where subcultural capital takes on cachet, the rich consciously borrow ideas from poorer groups. Furthermore, bricolage is no longer a junkyard approach to personal style—everyone now mixes and matches. In the end, subcultural groups were perhaps an avant-garde of persona crafting, the earliest adopters of the now common practice of inventing and performing strange characters as an effective means of status distinction.

For both classes and alternative status groups, individuals pursuing status end up forming new conventions without setting out to do so. Innovation, in these cases, is often a byproduct of status struggle. But individuals also intentionally attempt to propose alternatives to established conventions. Artists are the most well-known example of this more calculated creativity—and they, too, are motivated by status.

Subcultures and countercultures are often cast as modern folk devils. The media spins lurid yarns of criminal destruction, drug abuse, and sexual immorality.

Not surprisingly, mainstream society reacts with outrage upon the appearance of alternative status groups, as these groups’ very existence is an affront to the dominant status beliefs. Blessing or even tolerating subcultural transgressions is a dangerous acknowledgment of the arbitrariness of mainstream norms. Thus, subcultures and countercultures are often cast as modern folk devils. The media spins lurid yarns of criminal destruction, drug abuse, and sexual immorality—frequently embellishing with sensational half-truths. To discourage drug use in the 1970s, educators and publishers relied on a fictional diary called Go Ask Alice, in which a girl takes an accidental dose of LSD and falls into a tragic life of addiction, sex work, and homelessness. The truth of subcultural life is often more pedestrian. As an early teddy boy explained in hindsight, “We called ourselves Teddy Boys and we wanted to be as smart as possible. We lived for a good time, and all the rest was propaganda.”

Excerpted and adapted by the author from Status and Culture by W. David Marx, published by Viking, an imprint of Penguin Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. © 2022 by W. David Marx.

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