Sunday, March 29, 2026

Our Moral Responsibility

 

(This essay originally appeared in the Tampa Bay Mensa Sounding in late 2001 or early 2002.   It's original date was November 7, 2001.

 

 

Almost every appeal we hear for one good cause or another is couched in terms that remind us we have a “moral responsibility” to help the less fortunate.   Really?   Do we?

Yes, we do, but there's a caveat.   “Moral responsibility” loses its connection with morality when coercion enters the picture.   “Moral responsibility” cannot exist without the ability to fail to take responsibility.   Like light and darkness, neither can exist without the other.   When our behavior is coerced, when there is no choice but to do that which is “moral”, morality no longer has anything to do with the issue and “moral responsibility” all but evaporates.   This is the situation we are placed in by the welfare state:   we are taxed in order that we not shirk our moral responsibilities to those less fortunate.

If that were the entire problem, it might be sufferable.   We would shrug our shoulders at the venality of our politicians and continue about our business.   Unfortunately, that's not the entire problem.   The recipients of that concern for the less fortunate cannot see the ultimate supplier of their aid; they see the taxing authority as their benefactor and they understand that they are entitled (by virtue of being less fortunate) to the aid they receive.   Because they are entitled (that's why they call such things “entitlements”) there is a reduced incentive to act to become independent.   When all charity was private (that is, not tax-supported) the poor were painfully aware that they were dependent on the kindness of strangers and, as a general rule, did what they could to escape that unpleasant situation; that is, they found work and saved so that they would no longer have to rely on handouts (and this still happens even if not as predictably as we might wish).   Private charities, moreover, were able to granulate their effect: they exercised individual discretion; if an obviously able-bodied person seemed not to be making an effort to get off the dole that person could be cut off without a long, arduous investigation and mountains of paperwork designed to forestall a legal challenge.   The change from private charity to tax-supported charity created what many of us see as the fatal flaw of the welfare system: that consecutive generations are dependent upon it.   The lack of granularity is a primary cause of this: the government must grant citizens equal protection under the law, and this works to prevent the bureaucrat cutting off that able-bodied slacker.

Many adults today, having grown up in a world where “being on welfare” was something to be avoided until and unless absolutely necessary, cannot imagine how our current situation could have arisen and because they find the world around them so inexplicable they assign the blame for it to...   themselves.   The government, after all, is working to undo that horrid situation, isn't it?

In a word... no.   That “horrid situation” did not exist in the form we see it today until government decided to act.   It is true that some people were poor before The War on Poverty was declared, but even Jesus is reported to have said “…the poor will always be with you…” so it's not exactly a new problem.

The War on Poverty defined “poor” as having an annual income below x (and I don't know what “x” originally was).   Such a definition, note, must be local to the defining authority.   There are rich people in Third World countries who would gladly become poor Americans.

With a definable underclass government may now proceed to remedy the situation with subsidies, grants, and gifts.   As the defined underclass is pushed up from the bottom, the bottom does not simply disappear.   Those who are now poorer than the ones pushed up become the new bottom.   Indeed, the poor shall always be with us; somebody has to be on the bottom just as somebody has to be on the top.

Viewed this way, it becomes clear that The War on Poverty is another war which can never be won.   Well, maybe it can't be won, but what's the alternative?   The alternative is to return a measure of granularity to the process, something we can do quite easily: by returning to the situation of “private charity”.   We will still, under a regime of private charity, have poor people, but we will also have some assurance that they are poor because of their own choices, rather than because someone somewhere has defined “poor” to include them.

 

Saturday, March 21, 2026

Travel: 60 is the new 80

 

I just watched a horrifying video about 'traveling in the Golden Years'.   Well, maybe 'horrifying' is an exaggeration, but the presenter lays out a strong case for traveling-while-young.   He says that — in travel terms — '60 is the new 80'.   The video URL is https://youtu.be/xoewiDwNuTQ.

I responded in the comment section:

I'm 82 and my wife is 79.   Everything you said tracks 100% with my experience. — Our first real European vacation was in 2001.   I was 58, I did the itinerary myself, made all my reservations via the enbryonic internet, and had a fabulous (correct word) experience.   Repeated the exercise several times, but by 2014, I was noticeably slowing at age 70.   I had always wanted to climb to the top of Bruneleschi's dome in Florence and couldn't do it in 2015 — made it halfway before throwing in the towel.   Now we're traveling much more sedately, dammit.

As I watched, I found myself nodding and muttering "yes, that's right" at several points.   He talks about the three factors that affect the travel experience: time, money, and health.   When you're young, you have health and time but not money; you're building wealth.   In middle age, you have health and money, but not time; the job is eating most or all of it.   By the so-called 'Golden Years', you now have time and money, but the critical problem is health; bones are old and brittle, muscle mass is slowly ebbing away, and your lungs don't oxygenate like they did when you were 30.

Norene and I made our first trip to Europe in 1996, in our early 50s.   We went to Sweden before heading to London for Mensa's 50th anniversary gathering, and topped it off with a jaunt to Scotland.   Along the way, we went to Paris via Eurostar.   I tell people that I took my wife to Paris for her 50th birthday; it was August 21st, 1996.

For the next half-dozen years, we collected passport stamps from France (2001), Austria and Germany (2002), Scandinavia (2003), France again (2005), and Hungary and Czechia (2006).   In 2008, we led a 'tour' — four friends — to Paris and environs, and did the National Parks of the American Southwest in 2009.   By then, we were in our sixties.   Travel was becoming strenuous, but not intolerable.

Events conspired to force 'staycations' on us for the next few years, at which point we decided to try river cruising, doing the Rhine from Amsterdam to Basel with Viking (2014), a very enjoyable trip, all things considered.

In 2015, we traveled with a group of eight to Italy, starting with a repositioning cruise (16 days), followed by five days of limo-touring using Rome as our forward operating base.   When the other six flew back home, Norene and I hopped a train to Venice and joined a two-week Rick Steves tour of Northern Italy ending back in Rome on the final day.   That trip was a killer, mostly because the tour buses that got us from town to town usually couldn't get into town close to our lodging.   We had to hump our luggage from where the bus dropped us, along cobble-stoned streets and up and down staircases, to get to our rooms.   Thankfully, this only had to be done every other day.   Even so, it was exhausting, and we were very thankful when younger folk on the tour offered physical assistance.   When we arrived home after five weeks on the road, we needed a vacation to recuperate from our vacation.

We did another repositioning cruise in 2018 — again with friends — to Spain and Portugal, then nothing (because medical expenses chew up your RMD pretty fast, and COVID lockdowns don't help) until 2024 (Ireland bus tour) and 2025 (Seine river cruise).

We're itching to get back to France for one last hurrah, and that might happen next year.   If it doesn't, it may mean that our travelin' days are over.

Keep your fingers crossed for us.

To see the web pages for all of these trips, go to our website and scroll down to the bottom where each trip has a separate link.

 

Tuesday, March 17, 2026

Thoughts for St Patrick's Day

 

Catherine Connoly, President of Ireland, yesterday opined that immigrants are as welcome in Ireland as was immigrant St. Patrick.

There's a difference, however between St. Patrick and the 3rd world immigrants now flooding into the Emerald Isle.   St. Patrick came to save Ireland.   Those 3rd-world immigrants mean to destroy Ireland.

Primarily Muslim, but not insignificantly from other parts of the developing world, these recent immigrants come not because they value Irish culture, but rather because they see the generosity of the Irish people as an opportunity to permanently embed their culture within the existing Irish culture — fully expecting that by doing so, they will make their own culture dominant with the fullness of time.

In particular, Islam requires of its adherents that they have no higher loyalty.   That is, they may not be so loyal to their 'adopted' country that their loyalty to Islam takes second place.   The reason for that is that Islam is not focused on the eternal;   it is a temporal ideology that seeks world-wide domination of the temporal (as opposed to the eternal) space.

The Irish, alas, seem thoroughly infected with 'suicidal empathy'.   Their concern for their fellow man persists even when their fellow man declines to reciprocate and, in fact, has concern only for their own long-term goal of an Islamic Ireland.

St. Patrick weeps.