No Thank You For Your Service

Before you descend upon me with the fullness of your patriotic wrath for the title of this blog, hear me out for at least a few sentences.  I don’t hate the troops.  I don’t think they’re all evil.  As far as sacrificing for my life and liberty, I appreciate the sentiment.  I foster no ill will toward those in the military, and in fact the people I know in the military are some of the most virtuous people I know.

I support the troops.  I support them the best way I know how: by exposing the true nature of military service, so current and future potential soldiers have an opportunity to make more informed decisions.  I want people to understand that it’s possible to support the troops while not supporting the mission.  I want people to know what the mission is.

Most people are under the impression that soldiers are putting their lives on the line to preserve and protect life and liberty, and to shine the light of democracy into the dark corners of civilization.  This misconception is understandable.  The propaganda campaign begins at birth, and gets daily reinforcement in school, at home, and on television.  It takes a shrewd logical analysis to discern the true nature of military service, and even then it’s not easy to accept in the face of such powerful conditioning.

I have never been threatened by anyone in the Middle East.  I have never been threatened by anyone in Germany, or Japan, or South Korea, where the majority of our troops are stationed overseas.  Do you mean to tell me that if our military were not stationed in these countries, I would somehow be in greater danger of losing my life or liberty?  I am in danger of losing my life and liberty, but not from some foreign terrorist or government.  The greatest threat to my life and liberty is the United States government.

Don’t mistake this for a typical paranoid anarchist rant; it’s simply true.  Foreign terrorists have no ability to arrest me, and I’m nine times more likely to die at the hands of police than I am to be killed by terrorists.  Foreign governments don’t steal whatever percentage of my income that they deem fair, and fine me, arrest me, or imprison me if I give them the wrong amount.

Well, maybe the current wars are not justified, but surely there have been times the military protected us, right?  What about World War 2?  Wasn’t that justified?  No.

Of course the Nazis committed atrocities.  Of course I’m glad for all the life that was preserved by ending the war.  I’m not even going to argue whether or not the U.S. should have gotten involved, because that’s not the question.  The question is, did the U.S. involvement act to preserve the life and liberty of its citizens?

“Wait!”  You may say, “Hitler had plans to invade America!”  and you’d be right.  The problem with that notion is that is widely recognized by historians to be a megalomaniacal delusion.  By the time the U.S. entered the war, Hitler’s war machine was already crumbling.  The economic improvements he made were propped up with incredible debt and slave labor.  He ruined the infrastructure and wrecked the economies of the places he invaded.  His success was completely unsustainable.  While he was indeed a scourge on Europe, he posed absolutely no threat to the U.S.

What about World War One?  The Lusitania had Americans on it, right?  Right.  Sadly, they were kind of asking for it.  Not only were they knowingly going through a declared war zone, the boat was carrying munitions for the British military.  Moreover, the British were in breach of international law, prompting a no-holds-barred approach from the Germans.  U.S. involvement in World War 1 did not save any American lives; to the contrary, it resulted in over 100,000 American deaths, and many more if you consider that it may have led to the second World War.

As far back as you want to go, you’d be hard-pressed to find an example of U.S. military action that directly protected life and liberty of U.S. citizens.  You could make the case that they were protecting the life and liberty of other peoples by dismantling evil governments, but it’s a hard case to make as they don’t seem to be thanking us.

I do appreciate the sentiment of sacrifice for the sake of liberty, but that’s all it is; a sentiment.  It’s not the reality of what our troops actually do.  What they actually do is invade other countries that are no threat to us so that politicians can use them for their benefit in diplomacy and domestic policy.  What they actually do is prop up corporations, who prop up politicians, who in turn favor corporations.  What they actually do is use a lot of money, and take a lot of lives.  There is an abundance of evidence to support this, with no evidence to support the “sacrifice and service” mentality.

What is the worth of intention?  It’s a difficult question.  If a man’s intention is to do good, how much evidence of the harm of his actions must he be presented with before he can be expected to change his methodology?  I’m not sure where to draw the line, but when we’re talking about something as extreme as killing people, the standard of evidence must be high.  If there is overwhelming evidence to the contrary of your viewpoint, and you are taking lives based on a sentiment with no backing, the word “irresponsible” hardly seems sufficient; that’s just evil.

I’m not saying that all soldiers are evil.  While there is no evidence to support the “sacrifice and serve” mentality, there is overwhelming reinforcement, as I mentioned before.  It’s forgivable to be misguided.  It’s not forgivable, however, once having seen the evidence of the corruption of the leadership, to remain an advocate of the war machine.  I don’t even ask that they leave the military (I understand how difficult they make it to leave), just that they speak the truth about what it is they do.  They do not protect and serve me.  They do not preserve my life and liberty, and they do not help spread democracy.  They benefit a corrupt establishment.  They protect the interests of politicians and preserve the profits of corporations.

Even if it was all true, even if they really were preserving my life and liberty, it’s not rational to expect gratitude from someone who has a service forced upon them.  The real clincher is that I don’t have a choice whether the military “protects” me or not, so why would I be grateful?  I don’t want anyone dying for me.  I have no choice, and if it was a choice, I would say “no, thank you.”

American Sniper

The film American Sniper has been the subject of much controversy since its release and subsequent nominations for the Academy Awards.  The polarization is not exactly typical, however.  Instead of being split along party lines as one might expect, the rift goes deeper.  Much like the movie Fury, also released recently (though not accompanied by such high praise), some people see a clear anti-war message, while others see it as glorification of violence.  Others still say that both these films failed to deliver a clear and coherent message, and instead portrayed the chaotic dichotomy of war and valor, without drawing any meaningful conclusions.

At first glance, I can see why many (mostly those on the left) claim that American Sniper is a clear glorification of the war on terror.  The movie does seem to white-wash the military ambition, casting it in a light of long-suffering patriotism, devoid of any contradictory evidence or arguments.  With a little more thorough analysis, however, one must consider the possibility that Clint Eastwood is being a bit more clever in his portrayal.

To those in the camp that consider American Sniper little more than a recruitment strategy of the military, sponsored by a big Hollywood conservative, I would draw attention to two previous films by Eastwood: Flags of our Fathers and Letters From Iwo Jima.  The two films were shot back-to-back, from the perspective of the U.S. soldiers and the Japanese soldiers respectively.  Eastwood has a singular talent for portraying an individual perspective on film, free from alternate viewpoints and distracting controversy.

Eastwood is very subtle in his criticisms (as he seems to avoid revealing them), and it takes a keen eye to catch the true message behind his work.  The message is buried in the story, and is completely independent of Eastwood’s own opinions.  The message is in the perspective.  Chris Kyle’s perspective is obviously flawed; so obviously that any intelligent audience member questions the underlying motives for his actions.  They cause one to question the efficacy of his actions, and of the actions of the military as a whole.  The perspective is so one-sided that it begs many questions-- exactly the questions that are being asked by those against the war on terror.

The reason the film seems to some like pro-military propaganda is that they do not believe that a worldview like the one portrayed in the film exists.  It’s such a foreign perspective to so many leftists, they have a hard time accepting that it could be real.  The genius in the film lies in its ability to pass along this perspective, with no judgement, no criticism, and no translation.  It was Chris Kyle’s life as he saw it, with no distracting internal contradictions; except those apparent to the audience.

The simplistic (and inaccurate) rationale that drives Kyle into the military in the first place was the first quirked eyebrow for me.  As the film goes on, the hints that this is not merely a hero-making bio-flick keep stacking up; the flippant, dogmatic justifications for violence; the denial of PTSD; the obsessive dedication to “country” at the expense of his family (all the while claiming it was all for his family).

This approach reminds me of the riveting German film Der Untergang, portraying the final days of the Third Reich.  The filmmakers do not need to go to great lengths to demonize the leaders of the Nazi regime.  They portray the characters in the film as realistically and as humanistically as possible.  In many ways, Hitler and his minions are undeniably courageous, committed, and intelligent; that’s what makes this movie so spine-chilling.  These are not cartoon villains stroking oiled mustaches while tying a woman to a railroad track; these are people that think and feel and act, as people do.  The filmmakers do not offer the alternate viewpoint shared by the allied powers.  They portray a singular ideology, virulently held by those it infects, and dissent is never so much as acknowledged as a possibility.  This is what makes the film so effective.  The filmmakers trust the audience to look into this historical petri dish and recognize for themselves-- better than the filmmakers could consciously portray-- the nefarious elements of the ideology.

I will admit, it’s easier to do with Nazis.  Partially because it is so long past, and partially because it in such an extreme ideology, it is easier to portray without worrying that people will think you are promoting Nazi ideology.  Consider, however, what the response would be like if about half of Germany were openly Nazis, and the other half held viewpoints that are normal in Germany today.  I predict those Nazis would praise the movie as a glorious portrayal of the valiant fall of the Third Reich; while much of the “normal” half would decry it as a disgusting piece of Nazi propaganda-- but is the latter response not inspired primarily by the reaction of the Nazis?

Is this not similar to the situation we have in the U.S.?  If American Sniper was made fifty years from now, the audience would view it as an honest portrayal of a singular viewpoint that existed in the past, warts and all.  Eastwood is ahead of our time.  Apparent by his work, he is a student of history, and history cannot be held to an objective standard; as a matter of fact, any historical account claiming objectivism can be immediately dismissed.  History can only provide various perspectives and experiences, and can only be measured against physical evidence, and weighed against contradictory perspectives and experiences.  Eastwood has greater ambitions than can be realized at the box office.  His work will outlive everyone in this dispensation, and be viewed as part of a historical shift in cinema; where drama meets documentary.

Fury is similar in this regard.  We are entering into a new age of war cinema, and this contemporary approach has yet to be fully appreciated by modern audiences that generally have limited expectations when it comes to war movies.

Fury does not overtly seek to strike any balance between the horror and the valor of warfare, but it accidentally does.  With a modest acknowledgement of both paradigms, this film gains credibility on all sides.  It does so by implying that the valor is only possible because of the horror, and the horror is only bearable with valor.  I suppose it is this element of duality that made it incomprehensible to some in the audience, rendering the conclusion as nihilistic or chaotic, but I see more than that.  I see an honest portrayal that shows all sides, that shows war as it happened, and allows the audience to draw their own conclusions.  There is no preaching, no hyperbole.  The film is a statement with an implied question.  The statement is, “this happened.”  The question is, “why did this happen?”  and then, “was it worth it?”  and then, “how can we avoid this happening ever again?”  I love and appreciate that the film does not offer any answers; that’s probably why it was so frustrating to the audience and critics alike.  The onus is upon the audience.

Gone are the days of Apocalypse Now, in which the message is clear and the response predictable.  Full Metal Jacket has a place in history, but that strident “horrors of war” approach is extinct in American cinema.  The new age of war movies will be like American Sniper, Fury, and Der Untergang; visceral, unabashed, and singular in their aim of portraying an isolated viewpoint within a time in history.  In retrospect, earlier war films will seem condescending, overbearing, and simplistic by comparison.  Filmmakers seem to be trending toward an approach that allows history to speak for itself, which I find immensely exciting.

The Future Human

Future archeologists will scrape petrified chewing gum from the undersides of plastic tabletops, and brush dust from the labels of soda cans.  They will analyze, record, and categorize soil samples from the ancient plains of suburbia. They will struggle to find empirical examples of specific human actions that led to an increase in human happiness; with the hope that there may be some discernable behavioral pattern evident in the analysis.

Future historians will read electronic media records, personal correspondences, and financial records, looking for evidence of consistent biological and praxeological drivers.  They will mine hard-drives and discover Facebook, reproduce the code, and develop simulations and algorithms in order to predict what happened to produce such a program; and what happened after such a system as so-called “social media” was introduced to the world?  The future writers will look at portraits and landscapes and selfies and infographics, in order to get an intimate feel for what it must have felt like to be alive at our time.  They will look at our art, our cinema, our news media, and our music; and they will look at our violence, materialism, and ignorance.  They will see our abuse, our cowardice, and our self-pity.  They will see our confusion, our trauma—and our ironic intelligence—and they will all be baffled.

The future human will shudder to think how we can wake up every morning and not just weep out of pure hopelessness.  They will marvel at our ignorance; but they will probably excuse it partially due to the fact that we must numb ourselves to survive the rampant aggression and oppression and depression thrust upon the individual.  They will correlate our vices with the limits of our oppression, and these correlations will be hotly debated in future philosophical discussions.  The future human will wonder how we managed to lace our over-sized shoes, given the level of logical contradictions apparent in the evidence of our culture.  They will read Shakespeare, Aristotle, Socrates, Rand, Nietzsche, Twain and Molyneux; they will read textbooks, The Huffington Post and The Bible—and they will be baffled.

They will ask, “How the hell did they manage to live so long, while pumping all these toxic substances into their bodies?”  “Why did they develop these obviously inefficient systems of ‘social engineering?’” “How did the market survive massive, seemingly random, self-inflicted fluctuations in population, supply, and demand?” “How did they function under such high levels of stress, and continue to innovate?” “Did the average human learn to read only so they could read labels and basic instructions?” In their minds, our intelligence and resilience will be matched only by our self-destruction and stupidity.

The future human will analyze arguments using logic and reason (in true Vulcan fashion) to determine their value.  They will not consider status, or wealth, or success, or charisma, or power; that is, outside of the respective effects these things have on our paradigm.  Linguists and sociologists will bicker over the definitions of jargon such as “love,” “race,” “religion,” “cult,” “government,” and “family.”

The words of the early 20th century Supreme Court Justice, Oliver Wendell Holmes, strike me as appropriate in introducing this discussion:

 “...our test of truth is a reference to either a present or an imagined future majority in favor of our view.”  

(emphasis is mine)

      I have my qualms with Holmes' ideas, but a full analysis of my objections is beyond the scope of this essay—better at this point to focus on our agreement.  Though I do not think that the ultimate test of truth lies in our imagination, I do think it is a useful exercise to ponder what a future human would think of our society.

It is my ultimate ambition to adopt the perspective of an imagined superior future majority.  That is not to claim my imagined future is accurate, or even rational, based on the trajectory of human society.  Rather, envisioning a superior future majority is a way to visualize an ideal society, and work backwards logically to contribute to the outcome of this ideal future society—or at the very least, progress toward that ideal.  

 This method of visualizing the outcome before and during the development of a strategy for improvement has been consistently successful in many areas of personal self-improvement. Athletes, for instance, benefit immensely from a consistent regimen of mental rehearsal: a detailed visualization of success.  Musicians, and other performing artists report similar benefits.  Though visualization is not, of course, sufficient to produce the ultimate results (the athlete still must do the grueling physical labor), the practice of visualizing the goal with immaculate clarity is a powerful tool for developing strategy and providing motivation.

The Future Human is an attempt to reverse-engineer solutions to world problems, from the ideal of a potential future humanity. This blog will explore modern political philosophy, as well as examine current events for their future historical significance.