Engineering My Faith

⁹ “‘When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. ¹⁰ Do not go over your vineyard a second time or pick up the grapes that have fallen. Leave them for the poor and the foreigner. I am the Lord your God.

Leviticus 19:9-10

As the COVID-19 crisis expands in scope, I’ve been thinking about the role of government and the market. Once upon a time, I was a free-market purist. The core concept of free-market ideology is that unconstrained markets are most able to satisfy the needs of society. If there is a need, it will be reflected as a market demand. Someone (an individual or company) will respond to the demand and supply the need, motivated solely by a desire to profit.

There are lots of problems with this (oversimplified) view of economics. I’d like to focus on the moral issues. Economists (whether free-market or Marxist) tend to focus on money. Why? Perhaps because it’s easy to measure; perhaps because when you have a hammer, every problem looks like a nail.

The first moral issue is that some problems have solutions that take a long time to develop. Pharmaceutical companies may invest years, even decades, in developing a new treatment for a disease. Who has that kind of time? People with deep pockets, perhaps, who then expect a return on that investment. Eventually, someone has to pay for the treatment. I see this with Rhonda’s MS treatment. The list price is on the order of $50,000 per year. I can’t afford that; hardly anyone can. Yet someone has to pay it, or else the manufacturer wouldn’t be able to recover their investment. The alternative is that hard problems just never get solved.

The second, larger moral issue with free-market ideology is this: People are not money. A market can’t care; only a person can. Companies don’t actually care about people, even if their mission statements say they do. They may care some about their own employees, and they care that their customers continue to be their customers, but what they really care about is money. Corporations have boards of directors who have a fiduciary duty to the shareholders, NOT to society at large. They are obligated to do what will return the best long-term financial return.

This is a problem as old as civilization. A small, isolated tribe needs to share equally. In a larger community, each person can afford to be self-centered. Consider our passage from Leviticus. Clearly, a farmer would benefit from reaping everything he sows, from getting ALL the crops produced on his land. Yet here, in the middle of a list of rules (after “no idols” and before “do not steal”), landowners were told NOT to do so. They were told to intentionally leave some of the produce in the field, so that the poor and the foreigner could glean it. Why?

Because the health of a society depends on valuing ALL people, not just the wealthy. An individual’s obligation is ultimately to themselves and their dependents, but a government—whether an ancient theocracy or a modern democracy—is ultimately obligated to all of the people. We are all connected.

We start Lent with Ash Wednesday, on which we remember Ecclesiastes 3:20: “All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return.” Death is the great equalizer. These days, death is lurking around the corner in the form of COVID-19. The free-market approach might be to let pharmaceutical companies develop tests and treatments and then charge their market value. Such an approach, though, would allow the disease to spread rapidly. “Get tested if you’re sick” would protect us all. “Get tested if you can afford it” would allow the disease to thrive among populations that can’t afford to be sick, and then to spread the disease to everyone. “Take time off if you’re sick” works fine if you have sick leave; otherwise, you go to work with a mild cough and spread the disease to your co-workers, your customers, and everyone you pass coming and going.

What is the role of government? To protect its citizens, all of them, no matter the threat. Rich or poor, young or old, any color or ethnicity. Everyone.

I’d like to return to the same subject as last week: scaling. In a meeting of Common Call, I talked some about the concept, and Javier pointed out the basic difference. One-way communication scales arbitrarily, but two-way communication does not.

If I have some information to communicate, there are a variety of methods and media available to me. I can blog, write an article that gets published by some third party, vlog (e.g. make a YouTube video), or post a podcast. I can give a public lecture, in a variety of venues: churches, classes, seminars, conferences.

If I want to change people’s minds, such one-way communication is modestly effective. If I’m sufficiently eloquent, and people reading/watching/listening are sufficiently motivated and open to change, perhaps some people actually will change. How would I know? Maybe they would tell me, maybe not. In a live interaction (class, worship, seminar), I can get nonverbal feedback. I can see people following along or nodding off; taking notes or playing on their phones. If I’m paying attention, anyway.

In this scenario, I am essentially entering a marketplace of ideas. My message becomes no different from a Coca-Cola ad. Maybe the subject matter is a little more elevated, but the method of dissemination is not.

My friend Shandi, a campus minister with CCF, often says that you have to earn the right to be heard. How do you do that? In the one-way model, through reputation or authority. The students in my class are somewhat obligated to listen to what I have to say, at least if they want to get a decent grade (and perhaps even learn something). People listen to celebrities and politicians because other people do. Another way to earn an audience is to say something people agree with. Play to their confirmation bias–if you say something that confirms their existing beliefs, they will think you’re brilliant.

The better way to earn that right, though, is by listening to them first. If you are genuinely interested in a person, they will trust you enough to listen to what you have to say. If you are genuinely open to changing your mind, they may become open to changing theirs, too. Instead of being in the marketplace of ideas, you enter a place where two people create something new together.

COVID-19 is never far from my mind. I am on the steering committee for APEC, and was conference general chair back in 2017. We are scheduled to begin on March 15 in New Orleans. Meanwhile, COVID-19 is spreading rapidly in many places around the world. As of this writing, CDC lists China, Iran, South Korea, Italy, Japan, and Hong Kong as having travel notices. Washington state has a rapidly expanding emergency. A few hours ago, the first case in Missouri was confirmed, a woman who recently traveled to Italy.

Of course the CEO of Zoom thinks we should just do everything remotely. Work from home; no business travel; etc. Many conferences are shifting from physical to virtual. Zoom meetings are tolerable, especially when the parties have an existing relationship. There is still two-way communication. I’ve participated in webinars of varying quality and effectiveness.

Technical issues aside, there is something lacking in our communication when we shift to virtual presence. Some studies have shown that 55% of our communication is body language, 38% is vocal but nonverbal, and only 7% is verbal. We can quibble about the numbers, but the basic point is that communication is predominantly nonverbal, of a form that translates poorly to electronic interactions.

I hope that APEC goes forward, but not because I want to read the papers or even attend the lectures. It’s because I want to see old friends and colleagues, make new acquaintances, and feel a part of the community.

I don’t know the right thing to do in this particular situation. However, I do know that we, as a society, have transitioned to more and more one-way, remote interaction. This is fine when knowledge is of the highest value. But I believe the health of our community, nation, and world depends on relationships that are nurtured through one-on-one, two-way interactions.

5 They came to the other side of the sea, to the country of the Gerasenes. ² And when he had stepped out of the boat, immediately a man out of the tombs with an unclean spirit met him. …  ⁶ When he saw Jesus from a distance, he ran and bowed down before him; ⁷ and he shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I adjure you by God, do not torment me.” ⁸ For he had said to him, “Come out of the man, you unclean spirit!” … And the unclean spirits came out and entered the swine; and the herd, numbering about two thousand, rushed down the steep bank into the sea, and were drowned in the sea…. ¹⁸ As he was getting into the boat, the man who had been possessed by demons begged him that he might be with him. ¹⁹ But Jesus refused, and said to him, “Go home to your friends, and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and what mercy he has shown you.” ²⁰ And he went away and began to proclaim in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him; and everyone was amazed.

Selected Verses from Mark 5:1-20

I’ve been thinking lately about the ways different actions impact the world. Excuse some engineering-speak mixed in. There are some things that take the same amount of time no matter how many people are impacted. For example, writing and preaching a sermon for a congregation of 20 takes roughly the same amount of time and effort as for a congregation of 200. Perhaps the larger congregation would have more diversity within it that must be considered, but that’s a small effect compared to all of the prayer and study that are required.

On the other hand, helping people who have crises requires an amount of time that scales somewhat linearly with the number of people involved. That is, if it takes X hours to help one person, it takes roughly 10X hours to help ten people. Relationship-building cannot be mass-produced.

One reason I started blogging was the hope (probably unrealistic) that someday, I could reach a larger group of people this way than I would with one-on-one interactions. Again, writing a blog takes roughly the same amount of time no matter how many people are reading it. The good and bad of the internet is that once something gets out there, it lives for a long, long time.

I frequently read a blog by Matt Read called, “Confessions of a Community College Dean.” One of his recurring themes is Baumol’s cost disease. It’s not a perfect explanation for higher ed, but is a useful concept in a lot of ways. In essence, the productivity of certain tasks is constant while others improve. The labor required to make, say, a television today is far, far lower than in 1950. The labor required for a string quartet to perform a piece of music is the same today as when that piece was written, whether yesterday or 100+ years ago.

One way that particular line of thinking breaks down is this: 100+ years ago, a given performance could only be heard by a relatively small number of people, in a particular place at a particular time. Today, a given performance can be heard by an unlimited number of people, anywhere in the world, at any time, due to recording and sharing technologies. Thus, my blog.

Still, there’s something different about a live performance. There’s something different about being present. Otherwise, nobody would attend concerts. The quality of the music at a concert is generally lower than a studio recording, with mistakes and crowd noise and so forth. Yet, there’s something special about attending a live event with the performers and the crowd.

Jesus understood that. Jesus was not a prolific writer; indeed, we have no contemporary written records of his ministry, only remembrances some decades after the fact. Jesus spent some time preaching to crowds, but spent far more time with just a few close disciples. He knew that those relationships were essential to changing society. He had to teach a few people, so that they would then teach a few others, who would teach others, and eventually reach to the ends of the earth.

In the story I cited above, Jesus heals a man by driving out his demons. The man then wants to stay with Jesus, to become one of his intimate disciples. But Jesus knew a better way. The man had learned what he needed to learn, and so was turned loose to tell others.

I may not impact very many people directly. But if I can share a message of God’s love with a few people who carry that message on to others, eventually love will win out and overtake the world.

When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.

Matthew 5:1-11

Recently, I attended a couple sessions of a Sunday school class on the Beatitudes. We spent a lot of time on verse 9, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” What does it mean to be a peacemaker?

One misunderstanding is that a peacemaker should be peaceful. That’s not quite right. I mean, a peacemaker shouldn’t be actively causing conflict, but at the same time, they need not be passive. They SHOULD be actively creating peace.

What is peace? Absence of war, sure, but so much more than that. The Jewish concept of shalom implies wholeness, justice, fulfillment. It’s a state of being for an individual, a group, a nation. It is the way things should be.

We close each Fired Up! service with, “May the peace of Christ be with you.” We similarly exchange the peace of Christ at the end of the worship service at FPC Cuba, and in the middle of the Sunday service at FPC Rolla. Theologically, its most appropriate place in worship is where we do it Sundays in Rolla: right after the assurance of pardon. We are forgiven in Christ, and therefore we are individually at peace. So being children of God, we should share that peace with all of God’s other children.

How do we square that with Jesus’s example? Matthew 10:34, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” Matthew 21:12, “Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves.” Clearly, Jesus as the Son of God should also fit the mold of a child of God given in the Beatitudes. What’s going on?

There is such a thing as righteous anger. Peace is not the absence of conflict, but the presence of wholeness. Neville Chamberlain sought to avoid conflict; Winston Churchill led the struggle instead to achieve an enduring peace in Europe.

Jesus’s message was indeed one of shalom, of creating a world in which all people would be made whole. He was surrounded by the poor, downtrodden, outcast, and reviled people of his society. He describes the kingdom of God as a place where all are welcome, all are valued, everyone’s presence brings joy to God. But he also acknowledges that we don’t all live in that kingdom. We can experience a glimpse of it, in the loving presence of our friends, our family, our fellow children of God. But there are many people who are still on the outside looking in. People who have lost their loving connections. People who are barely surviving on the margins of modern society.

We should be angry that in modern America, people are still homeless, or hungry, or falsely imprisoned. As children of God, we should be seeking to make peace, to bring everyone into the shalom of God’s kingdom.

⁷ Then the Lord said, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, ⁸ and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the country of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. ⁹ The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress them. ¹⁰ So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” ¹¹ But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” ¹² He said, “I will be with you; and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall worship God on this mountain.”

Exodus 3:7-12

Something I picked up in my Bible in One Year reading this week: Have a vision so big that it would be impossible without God. This is a real challenge for me. As an engineer, I’m used to dealing with the possible. If I’m going to start a project, I need to have a lot of confidence that the project will be successful, and that I have the resources to complete it.

This has actually been a hindrance to my academic career. Some federal funding agencies want solutions to problems; for example, my extreme fast charging project. The National Science Foundation (NSF), though, wants research that matters. Similarly for DARPA and ARPA-E, but even more so: if an idea seems too feasible, they won’t fund it, but instead will defer to one of the other agencies or to industry. I have a hard time coming up with ideas that are big enough, that will have enough impact, that will be high-risk/high-reward. I’m more of a low-risk/low-reward kind of guy.

In ministry, it’s important to dream big, though. Take risks, and trust that God will be with you. I’ve found that when you’re on the right path, pieces fall into place more easily. For example, Common Call Campus Ministry has struggled over the past few years. We kept trying to come up with programs that might be appealing to students. But what’s important in campus ministry—in any ministry—is relationships. So last semester, we focused on building relationships among the students who showed up, while seeking an idea for action that resonated with them.

What we latched onto is this: We are going to develop a resource list that can be distributed to inmates who are released from Phelps County Jail. A list of resources that can help them build a better life. Many people who get caught up in the criminal justice system have issues with mental health or substance abuse. Others need to develop skills, both for work and for life. Many need to find a place to live, a job, and so forth. If they don’t get support for all of these needs, it’s easy to fall back into their old way of life and never escape.

So far, pursuing this path has been uncomfortable at times, but otherwise “easy.” That is, when we explain to people what we’re trying to accomplish, they are almost always supportive immediately. I truly feel that we’re on the right path, a path that will impact our community and the students involved with it.

This is a real, concrete step that we can take. But we also need to (eventually) dream bigger. There’s an old story that I’ll try to recreate here. A little village was built on a river. Once, there was a person floating downstream that needed to be rescued, so the village saved them. Soon after, another person came by needing to be saved, then another, then another. Eventually, the villagers realized that they needed to go upstream and find out why people kept falling in! Today, Common Call is in the position of the villagers and gathering up pieces of rope to toss out. Someday, maybe we’ll be able to go upstream.

Churches often fall into the trap of dreaming too small. One book I read referred to “functional atheists.” That is, we say we believe in God, we worship God each week, we orient our lives around God’s teachings, but when push comes to shove, we don’t trust in God’s providence. We look around at the resources we have, and take actions accordingly. Instead, we should look around at the world, dream of a future that is better, and follow God’s guidance to build that future.

Moses didn’t have the resources, or really anything he might need, to lead Israel out of Egypt. But God was with him, always providing just what was needed. Today, let us also trust that if we are on the path God has chosen for us, God will provide what we need.

God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them. ¹⁷ Love has been perfected among us in this: that we may have boldness on the day of judgment, because as he is, so are we in this world. ¹⁸ There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love.

1 John 4:16b-18

This is ground I’ve covered before, but was brought to mind again this week. This past fall, I bought a Monk Manual. It’s like a planner, but with differences that are intended to emphasize the skills of being and doing that are exemplified by monastic living. Its creator, Steven Lawson, recently started a 30-day course intended to move you towards greater fullness of life. The topic for Day 28 was “Fear vs Love.”

Here’s what I took from the lesson (which is pretty short—feel free to check it out). Every choice we make, every action we take, is driven ultimately by fear, love, or some combination. Only love is life-giving. Only love leads to greater fullness. As John wrote, God is love, so when we act from a place of love, we have the possibility of connecting to God.

We had a great discussion about it at Common Call also. The key concept I took from it was that there are surface emotions—happiness, sadness, anger, and so forth—that reflect some deep-seated love or fear.

In many cases, our underlying motives are some combination. For example, I go to work daily. Why? Lots of reasons: duty; money; interacting with students, faculty, and staff; doing research; achieving prominence in my field and on campus; etc. Some of these trace back to fear. If I don’t make money, I can’t provide for my family, can’t continue to live as I currently do, etc. Maybe I seek prominence because I’m afraid I’m not good enough (impostor syndrome).

But maybe I go to work out of a place of love. Maybe I like interacting with students because I want them to become more complete humans, more complete engineers. Maybe I do research because I love new knowledge, or love the process (the reading, the thinking, writing code, fiddling in the lab).

The truth is, the real reasons are all of these, and more. Whichever reason I focus on, though, takes on more significant meaning. As Peter Gibbons, the protagonist of Office Space, said, fear will make you work just hard enough not to get fired. If that’s all I thought about, I would do the minimum, and be miserable like he was. If instead I focus on the reasons that come from a place of love, the fears will fall away, and I will become more like the person God wants me to be.

The other day, I had a conversation about the possibility of turning our church into a More Light congregation, that is, publicly adopting a statement that affirms the place of LGBTQ individuals in our church and in God’s kingdom. There are two ways to look at it. On the one hand, our congregation is slowly shrinking due to the age of the members. There is certainly fear that our best days are behind us and we will someday need to close the doors. This fear drives a lot of the discussions about evangelism: will such-and-such activity, program, or message bring more people into the church so we can grow again? Maybe becoming More Light would drive some people away; maybe it would draw others in. Which do we fear more: losing people we have, or dying through attrition? These fears can totally paralyze our decision-making process.

On the other hand, I firmly believe that all people belong in God’s kingdom, and that people who are connected to a church find more and deeper joy. I believe that there are many people in our community who need to hear the message that God loves them for who they are—regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity. I believe that there are others who need to hear the message that God is love, not judgment. Whether or not any of them ever enter our church building is beside the point. I would like us to become More Light as a statement of love for our neighbors, praying that this love, and God’s love, would cast out all fears.

Any action can have multiple motivations, some of them based in love, some of them based in fear. Choose love.

⁸ Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

Philippians 4:8

I would describe my beliefs broadly as “progressive Christian.” That means a lot of things. Today, I’m thinking on two of the principles listed on the Common Call site, which were basically lifted from https://progressivechristianity.org/:

• I believe that following the path and teachings of Jesus can lead to an awareness and experience of the Sacred and the Oneness and Unity of all life; and
• I affirm that the teachings of Jesus provide but one of many ways to experience the Sacredness and Oneness of life, and that we can draw from diverse sources of wisdom in our spiritual journey.

These are two principles that are somewhat in tension, but that tension is part and parcel of my faith. Basically, I’m saying that I believe Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, but due to God’s immanence, Truth has broken through and been revealed in many places, cultures, and times.

My morning routine includes a daily reading from the Bible in One Year app produced by Nicky Gumbel, Vicar of Holy Trinity Brompton (HTB, an Anglican church in London) and pioneer of Alpha. When I mentioned that on a progressive site recently, someone asserted that Alpha, in their experience was anti-progressive. My experience of it has been that it is reminiscent of Mere Christianity: it focuses on the very basics of the Christian faith.

Recently, I saw that First Baptist Church of Rolla ran an Alpha course. A couple years ago, I ran one through Common Call (not exactly a failure, but far from a success). Now, do I think First Baptist approached it the same way I did? Absolutely not. But just as we read the same Bible, we share certain beliefs in common, chief among them that Jesus is Lord.

Because of my affiliation with Common Call, I am also active in the Campus Ministries Association. Beliefs of my colleagues in CMA range from Catholic to Mormon to Pentecostal. I think most of us would disagree on a lot of theological issues. But we all believe in Jesus as our Lord and Savior, and that students are better off being engaged in a faith community.

Not all paths lead to God. But many paths can lead us to a deeper awareness of the Holy Spirit that binds all humanity. We are not meant to live solo lives. We are meant to live in community with each other. Whether that community is Presbyterian, or Catholic, or Buddhist, or atheist, I believe the Holy Spirit is there connecting our hearts.

So I’m OK with interfaith dialogue. I’m looking forward to a time when I can go on a Jesuit spiritual retreat. I’ve encouraged non-Christians to seek out a Unitarian Universalist congregation. God is too big to squeeze into a doctrinal box. God is in everything–we are simply limited in our awareness of God’s presence and our ability to describe it.

⁴ Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant ⁵ or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; ⁶ it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. ⁷ It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7

I am an engineer—by training, by profession, by temperament, and as an identity. It’s core to who I am. Broadly speaking, engineers solve problems by applying logic, reasoning, and knowledge.

The incentives in the world all are biased towards the individual. People are paid for work completed, and those who do the best or most work generally get ahead. Being single with no commitments would, in principle, facilitate being more successful. If all you have in your life is work and more work, you should be able to accomplish more and be more successful.

From that perspective, marriage is a bad deal. You promise that you will sacrifice yourself for the sake of someone else, expecting little or nothing (of material value) in return. “In sickness and in health” sounds glorious when everyone is healthy. When poor health (or poverty, or worse) comes along, it would sure be convenient to treat the marriage like a business arrangement that can be painlessly terminated. Parenthood similarly asks for a tremendous investment of time and money, and a complete re-ordering of your life, with a huge amount of uncertainty.

I don’t really know how love works. Love defies logic and reason. Relationships aren’t problems that can be solved, but rather works of art that are created together. The value of marriage is that it forces the pair to seriously address the ugliness that can arise in any relationship, rather than abandon the beauty that remains.

Marriage is logical, but the love that undergirds it is not. That is, love is an irrational premise, but from that premise, marriage follows logically. Similarly, religion is logical. Every religion has rules, rituals, and ways of being that have a certain internal logic. This structure keeps a religious community together through the hard times, and keeps an individual engaged when God seems absent. Yet the Spirit that supports it all is beyond our understanding.

A common phrase these days that people use to describe themselves is, “spiritual but not religious.” What they really mean is that they accept the premise of God, but not the structures that (other people think) logically follow. I think this is like accepting the premise of love, but not marriage. Being in love, or believing in God, can only get you so far. Relationships, with other people or with God, require commitment, a promise to stay in the relationship when things get hard. It is when you go through those hard times, together, that you realize what matters most to you.

Program Notes

My apologies for this being a bit rough, but I wanted to get some thoughts out. I’ve had several interesting conversations this week that touch on love, commitment, community, and spirituality. I will almost certainly return to these themes again sometime.

I am preaching somewhat regularly now. I preach periodically in my home church, First Presbyterian Church of Rolla, when the installed pastor is traveling. I also preach about once a month at First Presbyterian Church of Cuba. I will continue to post my sermons, both written and recorded. Those sermons will typically be based on the lectionary or else on a topic given to me by someone else.

My intention is to also post blog posts like this on weeks when I don’t preach. Blog posts will generally cover other topics, separate from the lectionary, but related to something in my life.

In addition, I’ve been reading a lot (well, mostly listening to audiobooks while I run or drive) and will post a list of books that have impacted my life. As of this writing, I’m listening to The Second Mountain by David Brooks.