Month: August 2025

I grew up in a time and place where owning a rifle or shotgun was normal. They were used for sport, and that was the only reason to own one. I had no problem with that. Farmers and ranchers had more need, but I never met one who gave it much thought. Guns were tools like any other. There were always a few strutting buffoons who managed to get permits to carry concealed weapons, and buffoons they were. The very few who truly needed one never talked about it.

Will our legislators ever have the courage to enact common-sense gun legislation—to license guns and gun owners—without trespassing on the Second Amendment? It shouldn’t be necessary, but apparently it is, to remind the public and the Supreme Court that the Second Amendment is about well-regulated militias. I long ago lost interest in the whining complaints about a supposed constitutional right to own whatever weapon one desires. The loudest complainers seem to have no interest in any other constitutional right, nor even the slightest knowledge of them.

I think it is safe to say that the legislators of our nation, and particularly those of Virginia where I live, will not have the courage to do anything about gun control. So we are left on our own. What can we do?

Perhaps the most powerful thing we can do is to ridicule the cowardly wimpiness of people who need a gun to prove themselves. We can say it in conversation, on social media, and in letters to the editor—but always in the third person. Ridiculing the illusion that owning a weapon makes one safer or establishes one as a true man or woman allows any listener to reflect on what is being said without necessarily feeling attacked personally.

It’s pretty clear from advertisements for concealed carry permit training sessions that they are marketed as signs of real manhood and strong womanhood. Everyone, the ads say, is in constant danger of imminent attack and must be prepared to defend not only themselves but the public as well. In other words: you too can be a Lone Ranger. This has fostered a popular culture—at least in some places—that treats owning a weapon as a sign that you are not to be messed with. It’s a very compelling message.

A 26-year-old friend of mine lives in a part of town where shootings are a daily occurrence. He told me recently that since everyone seems to own a gun, maybe he should too. We had a long conversation about the foolishness and danger of that choice. To his credit, he decided not to join the ranks of the armed.

It is the seductive message—that a weapon is a sign of strength—that requires us to expose and ridicule it as the foolishness it is. I believe that may be the only way, at least for now, to move the pendulum in a new direction.

One of the strangest tales that will ever be told in centuries to come is how Donald Trump managed to fail at almost everything while achieving great wealth and being elected twice to the highest office in the land. As ignorant and incompetent as he has always been, he does have two well-honed skills that he uses to near perfection.

First, he has the audacity and chutzpah to commit serial felonious acts in public view without apology, in the full expectation that he will get away with them—because he always has. It has been his pattern since childhood. Why would he change behavior that has served him so well, even as he approaches his 80th year?

Second, he has perfected the art of maintaining control over media attention no matter what else is happening in the world. He has learned how to make himself the only center of attention. Others may make an occasional appearance, but only for a moment. One way or another he brings the spotlight back to himself. One wonders how the media can be so gullible, but they aren’t the only ones.

I have been part of an ecumenical scripture study group for more than 20 years. We meet by Zoom each week to engage the Word of God more deeply in the context of the world we live in. What disturbs me is how easily anger and anxiety over everything Trump does shifts the center of our attention, relegating the Word of God to the role of observer and commentator.

As Christian pastors and theologians, it is incumbent on us to keep Christ at the center—not simply as a person, but as the one through whom all that God has commanded is measured. That means Trump and all his minions must be tested by, and made subordinate to, the Word of God we know in Christ Jesus.

Some who claim to be Christian have subordinated their religion to Trump’s nationalism. They have not only made Jesus a bystander, they have pledged their loyalty to a cult leader whose life is antithetical to everything Christ has commanded.

Equally troubling are faithful Christian leaders who, like my own study group, have allowed Trump and everything he represents to occupy the center of attention to the point that bold proclamation of the gospel takes second place to political commentary. It may seem odd for an Episcopal priest who writes often about politics and religion to say this. Indeed, some of my agnostic friends tell me they like what I write on politics but not so much when I fold in too much religion.

But when we dedicate time to the study of the holy Word—whether alone or in community—that should be the singular focus of our attention. And when politics is the subject of discussion, Christian theologians must speak through the lens of Christ’s teaching, even if not overtly. Asserting the promises and expectations of our constitutional liberal democracy is not a theological obstacle; the two complement each other reasonably well.

That allows Christians to participate in public debate while keeping Trump subordinate to, and measured by, the highest standards of both faith and democracy. Trump cannot stand being seen as subordinate to anything or anyone and is gifted at flipping every conversation in his favor. Just as troubling, he is surrounded by aides and followers who intend to remake the United States into a model of authoritarian, state-controlled capitalism, unimpeded by the inefficiencies of democracy, civil rights, and the common good.

This is why it is so important for Christian pastors and theologians to keep Christ at the center of their own thinking and words. Only then can we participate in secular political conversation with integrity, keeping the common good as the primary purpose of our constitutional liberal democracy.

It seems these days as though everybody has been shoved into one of two camps: liberal or conservative. That division is both unfortunate and inaccurate, but they are the boxes news media have put us in. I want to look at three different ways of being conservative. They are not mutually exclusive, but they do have their own identities.  That may lessen the perceived gulf of unbridgeable division.

First, let’s be clear: MAGA and its fellow travelers do not represent a conservative movement. They are retrograde fascists and that’s all there is to it. There comes a point when excuses have to stop being made for them and that point has long since been reached.

Conservatives generally fall into three overlapping categories often blended together in the lives of individuals—including not a few who identify as liberal.

Social conservatives are comfortable with the social standards they grew up with which they see as defining what a well-ordered society should look like. While issues of human sexuality have been the most visible battleground, social conservatism is really about a much broader range of “normative” expectations for human behavior and society in general. It tends to be suspicious, cautious, and even fearful of social change that seems disruptive to order. Social conservatives take a long time—sometimes a generation or two—to adjust to changing conditions but eventually they adapt.

Fiscal conservatives want assurance that the nation’s financial condition is secure and predictable. They worry about overspending and excessive debt. While media attention focuses on the federal government, fiscal conservatives are equally concerned about state, local, and even personal finances. Like social conservatives, they are most comfortable with what they learned in their youth about financial responsibility and are uneasy with rapid technological and economic changes that force new ways of thinking. They are suspicious of public spending that seems like “throwing money” at problems with no clear plan. They are quick to see benefits for particular interests from spending but slower to recognize how it might serve the common good.

Pragmatic political conservatives want government at every level to be efficient and effective in using the resources entrusted to it. They are willing to provide what is necessary but no more than that. They dislike the federal government stepping into what used to be local or regional issues even as modern communications and technology have erased the boundaries that once confined them. They want legislatures to be serious, deliberate, and accountable in their work with nothing done without a workable plan.

What’s curious is that these three conservative tendencies are also present in the thinking of many people who consider themselves liberal. That’s not so hard to understand. One reason cohesion among liberals is elusive is that these conservative instincts within liberal thought challenge every idea and candidate to prove themselves in the public arena of competing interests.

I believe most Americans are, in fact, conservative liberals or liberal conservatives. Whether they register as Republicans or Democrats is another matter. Broadly speaking, most Republicans today could be described as liberal conservatives, while most Democrats could be described as conservative liberals. Call it center-right and center-left if you prefer.

And what of the much-heralded extremes? MAGA is the most obvious example of a destructive extreme. Hard-core libertarians are nearby, though they remain committed to a republican democracy—as they interpret it. On the far left, despite what Stephen Miller and others like to claim, there are no massed ranks of communists. Yes, there are left-wing extremists, but they number in the dozens or perhaps hundreds—not the thousands or millions—and as a political force they are insignificant. Their shadow looms almost entirely because MAGA propaganda insists on making it so.

So where does that leave us? The way I see it, candidates for public office who want to restore electoral integrity to the nation and protect our liberal democracy must be anchored in several core messages: use every resource of the government to influence housing affordable to people well below median income levels; advocate for measures that will help reduce the cost of daily living for ordinary people; demand tax increases on the ultra wealthy and eliminate corporate socialism; endorse consumer protection measures; raise and index the minimum wage; and restore fair and open global trading relationships.

There may be several others that come to your mind but I think these at least must be at the core. Other very important issues, especially those regarding civil and human rights and the protection of the environment cannot be ignored. But they cannot be at the core of campaigns. First, and by far most important, we must restore the integrity and stability of liberal republican democracy and a presidency of limited power as it was intended to be and always has been until the Trump era.

Labor Day is fast approaching. For most of us, it means little more than a three-day weekend and the unofficial start of fall. We have long since stopped taking time to reflect on what labor means to society, to our future, or even what “labor” really is.

Traditionally, laborers have been placed at the bottom of society’s hierarchy—viewed as the people who perform repetitive, non-creative work necessary for the machinery of society to function, and assumed to require only minimal skills. Independent thinking and initiative were neither expected nor desired. That view treated human beings as little more than machines of production, to be discarded when no longer needed.

But that definition of labor is itself a social construct—and one that has outlived its usefulness. It strips human beings of the dignity of being made in the image of God. Automation has reduced some of the demand for this kind of labor, but it has not eliminated the impulse of those in power to impose machine-like conditions on as many jobs as possible. Recent articles describe how the free-wheeling creativity once associated with Silicon Valley is giving way to rigid, risk-averse environments where initiative is discouraged. The 1999 cult classic Office Space may have been more prophetic than comedic.

Meanwhile, some of our most popular college majors—business, finance, and computer science—do not necessarily prepare students to be creators and builders of something that will outlast them. They are trained in the art of manipulating data and resources to maximize profitability. But profitability of what? It often doesn’t matter. The skills can be applied to anything, but who will create that “anything”? And will it hold real value for society? Scouting for opportunities to make quick money may result in new products or services, but not always in something of enduring worth for the common good.

This Labor Day, I would like to see us honor the work required to create and sustain our nation’s infrastructure—at both its utilitarian and aesthetic best—from small towns and neighborhoods to our largest cities and everything in between. Let us also celebrate the labor of those who create products and provide services essential to living a good life. The financial sector, powerful as it is, should be honored as the servant of a healthy economy—not its master.

Odd as it may sound, I also believe Labor Day should include honorable mention of legislators, from town councils to Congress, who enact policies and provide resources that make the whole enterprise possible. Sadly, too many in public office are unworthy of that honor. They have surrendered their duty to the selfish interests of a few, abandoning the common good. Engaging in politics for the common good has been the noble duty of every citizen from ancient Greece to the democratic marvel that has been the hallmark of the American dream.  It deserves better from each of us and especially from those who hold public office.

I’m surprised by the number of prominent people—mostly men—who seem terrified by what they call the “feminization” of masculinity, and who are determined to reassert a patriarchal, domineering, Hollywood version of aggressive manhood. Frankly, it’s a sign of deep-seated insecurity—a wimpy sort of masculinity in spite of all the chest-thumping bravado. More discouraging are men who believe Christianity is too feminine. They clearly know little of scripture or the history of our faith. What are they afraid of? Being seen as weak if they follow in the way of Jesus?

Particularly troubling are the men who claim to be Christian but lack the courage to follow Jesus in the way of the cross. As the letter of James proclaims, that way is faith in action. Jesus, fulfilling the words of the prophets, explained it plainly to his followers; when they didn’t understand, he broke it down into the simplest, most concrete terms: feed the hungry, clothe the naked, house the homeless, heal the sick, treat the stranger as a brother, put God’s justice before Caesar’s, and stand firm when faced with threats and enemies of peace and reconciliation. To paraphrase James: don’t tell me you believe—prove it by the way you live.

Looking back at American leaders over the last century, the most admirable models of masculinity have not always been Christians and some expressed no particular religious belief. Yet each, in their own way, has followed the way of the cross. Since many men believe the “warrior spirit” is essential to masculinity, consider a few who bore arms without glorifying war.

Some were warriors defending their people against invaders and threats of cultural annihilation: leaders such as Red Cloud, Sitting Bull, Geronimo, Crazy Horse, and Chief Joseph, along with others less well remembered. To them I would add Admiral Nimitz, Admiral Spruance, General Bradley, General Eisenhower, and others who did the work required of them without celebrating war as glorious or indulging in self-serving chest-thumping. Their reputations have endured, while others—more celebrated in their day—have seen theirs greatly diminished.

There is also the equally important work of building a just society. Models of courage in that field include Martin Luther King Jr. and John Lewis. Lyndon Johnson, at his best, belongs there too—though like a Greek tragic hero, he was often his own worst enemy. Colin Powell is another example; like every human being he had flaws, but unlike most, his were displayed in public. He faced them with courage, accepted responsibility, and continued to speak with strength for a better society.

I have more difficulty naming public religious leaders who truly embody Christian masculinity, because the best examples I know are not nationally famous. My childhood pastor, Joyce Ranum, kept the Word of God alive for soldiers on the front lines in World War II and made it come alive for kids like me in the 1950s. Father Ernie Campbell introduced hundreds of youth to God’s Word while teaching wilderness canoeing, mountain climbing, horseback riding, and skiing. Pastor Chuck Hindman put his mind and back into resolving the needs of the homeless in a small city. Bishop Michael Curry boldly proclaimed the way of love, challenging the complacency of a global audience. There are dozens more—perhaps you can name some from your own life. But when I consider the religious leaders who have dominated the nation’s public attention for decades, I find little evidence that they have the courage to follow in the way of the cross, despite their popularity and influence.

Is Jesus an exemplar of masculinity? No. He is the exemplar of what it means to be human. As it is written: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3). Jesus is the standard for what it means to be righteous, courageous, trustworthy, and just. He is the measure against which all claims of masculinity must ultimately be tested.

David Brooks wrote in the New York Times on August 8, reflecting on a recent Gallup survey of Global Happiness. Perhaps I misread but he seemed to say that in the U.S. conservatives are less discouraged, less discontented with life than progressives because  they are anchored in traditional values of family and shared responsibility. Progressives, on the other hand, appeared less satisfied and more pessimistic, which  attributed to what he called “extreme individualism” — a detachment from the enduring social relationships that help people weather life’s ups and downs.

I agree with much of what Brooks writes but I found this column troubling. One reason is that deep discontent with the unfulfilled promises of liberal democracy appears to be driving the growth of right-wing movements that now wear the “conservative” label. At the same time, many progressives seem increasingly fearful of losing democracy altogether as the United States edges toward authoritarianism. In other words, discontent and discouragement about life in general may lie heavily on conservative and liberal hearts alike.

The Gallup Organization publishes an annual World Happiness Report, the most recent in March 2025. Its measures are not ideological but social. Happiness is described in terms of satisfaction with life and hope for a better future. Economic well-being is one factor, but Gallup emphasizes something more important: the strength of social relationships. People report higher happiness when they have mutual trust in others, confidence that others will act benevolently, and a sense of life’s purpose. Political ideology may play a role, but it was not apparent in the executive summary I read.

The many lists ranking national happiness must be taken with a grain of salt. Looking at half a dozen of them, I sometimes wondered if country names were simply scattered on a table and left where they fell. Yet certain patterns emerged: Nordic nations often top the charts — despite relatively high suicide rates — while many African countries cluster near the bottom. The United States consistently hovers somewhere in the middle, trending downward.

To be clear, happiness is not a competition. This is not the World Cup of national well-being. At best these rankings are rough diagnostic tools implicating where a society might need to improve.

I want to suggest another approach I believe is consistent with the Gallup findings.  The American ethos of rugged individualism is one of our greatest assets. It values personal responsibility, independent initiative, and the belief that you get out of life what you put into it. But when it claims for itself an individualism at enmity with restrictions imposed on it by society and government it weakens community bonds necessary for mutual well-being. The popular notion that “government is the enemy” ignores that government — local, state, and national — is simply the mechanism by which we decide how to live together in reasonable harmony. 

Community, as the World Happiness Report shows, is built on trustworthy social relationships. People are happier when they know there is at least one person who cares for them, when they live in healthy families, when they share meals with others, and when they participate in small groups — especially religious communities. They are happier when those relationships are both affirming and challenging and also happier when they feel more freedom in a less dangerous community.

We don’t need laws to define friendship or family, but we do have shared expectations: that they be safe, trustworthy, honest, truthful, and encouraging. Civil authority can promote those values, but it cannot legislate them. Yet society as a whole — from neighborhood to nation — does require some legal structure to thrive. Two hundred and fifty years ago, we chose the messy process of liberal democracy, trusting that a representative government, balanced by an independent judiciary and limited executive power, would serve us better than an authoritarian rule of monarchs.

It has — but not without severe testing. Trust in our democratic experiment has been eroded by loud voices proclaiming government as the enemy, by an extreme individualism that denies mutual dependence, and by a drift away from face-to-face contact. COVID-19, the seductions of social media, and the insistence on ideological purity have all taken their toll.

We cannot go back to what we think we once had — and much of that, if we’re honest, is selective memory. Efforts to reverse history by restoring a patriarchal, white-dominated society will fail, but not before causing real damage. The goal of such movements is to consign non-white Americans to a permanent lower class and to subordinate women to men. It can’t succeed, but it can certainly strip us of our freedom and make our communities more dangerous.

Meanwhile, the internet, social media, and artificial intelligence are here to stay. They will shape our society more with each passing year. The question is whether we will guide them for the common good or allow them to dictate how we live. We cannot blame technology for our social ills. it is only a tool for us to use wisely or unwisely.

Our central task is to establish the kinds of social relationships that sustain and encourage us through life’s changes and challenges. Perhaps the old city planners weren’t wrong: every neighborhood should have a small core of coffee shops, convenience stores, and public gathering places. What we cannot do is design communities to exclude some, underserve some or limit the rights of some for the preference of others.

Whatever other crises demand our attention, one of our highest priorities must be fostering healthy relationships at every level — from the person living alone to the large family, from the neighborhood to the nation. Liberal democracy, messy as it is, remains the best framework for extending unalienable rights to all people without discrimination.

As an Episcopal priest, I am convinced that God calls us to the way of life — the “habits of the heart” — that bring healing, reconciliation, meaning, purpose, and trustworthy relationships. These are not in competition with other visions of the good life, but they are, I believe, divinely given. Not everyone will accept that, but for those who claim the name of Christ, the path is clear: to live as fully as possible into God’s way, a way that can only be lived in community. It has nothing to do with Christian nationalism, or any religious movement by whatever name that seeks to impose personal social values on everyone else. It is unity in faith, not uniformity — a calling to join with others in God’s name to pursue what is good, right, and gracious for all.  Christians are called and commanded to live their lives in ways that bring something of the kingdom of God in to the places where they are as their contribution to building healthy social relationships that respect human dignity. They are called to participate with others in building healthy community

By Steven Woolley

The Declaration of Independence will mark its 250th anniversary next year. No doubt, we’ll be swept up in a flurry of ceremonies and events commemorating everything from the first landing of British colonists at Jamestown to the final battle of the War for Independence at Yorktown.

At the heart of it all lies Williamsburg, once the colonial capital where fiery speeches helped ignite revolution and citizen-legislators proposed laws for a new kind of democracy. Jamestown, Yorktown, and Williamsburg form what’s known as the Historic Triangle—the birthplace of what would become the United States of America.

July 4, 2026 will be the signature moment, a time to reflect on what it meant to declare independence from British tyrannical monarchy and to strike out on our own, attempting to build a nation grounded in the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. In ’76 no one quite knew what shape this new government would take—only that, as Lincoln later put it, it would be “of the people, by the people, and for the people.”

But July 2026 will not arrive in a vacuum. It will unfold in the midst of midterm election campaigning, the outcome of which may decide whether we have surrendered the blood and toil of 1776 to submit once again to authoritarian rule. On the other hand, perhaps the words of Jefferson, the speeches of Patrick Henry and Sam Adams, and the wisdom of Benjamin Franklin will rekindle the revolutionary spark—one that could elect a new Congress dedicated to the democracy for which so many lives have been sacrificed over the last 250 years.

The Historic Triangle draws thousands of visitors each year to its colonial sites, battlefields, and museums, where they hear stories of pre-colonial Indigenous cultures, the arrival of British settlers in 1607, and the final days of the Revolution in 1781. Have they been informed—or merely entertained? I’m never quite sure. But 2026 will be different.

Predictions suggest that visitor numbers will double around the July 4 holiday. May it be a time when our passion for democratic liberty is reignited, when we stand fearlessly against the looming powers of tyranny that threaten to enslave us once again.

Indeed, by next year, tyranny may no longer be a threat. It may be a reality. That is the direction we appear to be heading under the Trump administration.

In the pattern of his predecessor, mad King George III, against whose tyranny we fought for our independence and freedom:

• He has burdened us and our descendants with massive debt to further enrich the already wealthy.
• He has imposed a national sales tax on imported goods without our representation in the legislature.
• He has conspired to restrict the freedom of the press with a stream of meritless lawsuits and threats.
• He has deployed the military in Los Angeles to intimidate protests against the widespread arrests of presumed illegal immigrants without due process.
• He has used law enforcement agencies as tools of coercion and retribution.
• He has deprived persons of their right to due process.
• He has conspired to establish immunity for himself from prosecution for crimes and misdemeanors.
• He has conspired to restrict what schools may teach and what we may learn.
• He has sought to replace historical truth with propaganda masquerading as fact.

It will take courage not only to resist tyranny but also to stand for the government we want—a government rooted in democratic liberty, animated by civic responsibility, and dedicated to preserving individual freedom for the common good, embracing every person of every sort and condition.

Christians are encouraged to follow Jesus in the way of the cross—the way of life and peace. It has two purposes: first, to pass through this temporal life without becoming so distracted by its pressures that we lose the way altogether; and second, to do what we can to help secure a portion of the kingdom of God in this earthly existence for the benefit of others.

At best, we are erratic followers of Jesus. We get distracted and wander down strange alleyways. That’s why we are called to lives of repentance, understood as turning again in the right direction, confident in our trust that Jesus knows where we’ve been and can guide us to where we need to be.

Proclaiming and planting seeds of the kingdom along the way is harder to describe. As the old saying goes, some Christians are so heavenly minded they’re of no earthly good—but we are called to be of earthly good. What does that mean in pragmatic terms?

First, we must be clear: however broken the world may be, it remains part of the created order God declared good. It is sacred in its own right, and that sacredness extends to every part of creation, animate and inanimate. Nothing and no one is excluded.

Too often, the Christian obligation to help establish God’s kingdom is reduced to platitudes: love your neighbor (in principle), pray for justice (without working for it), or call for fairness (expecting others to do the hard work). Justice, in particular, is left vague—lest defining it create conflict.

But we must go further. History, including our own recent history, is filled with courageous men and women of faith who gave their lives to proclaim what justice means in practical terms, grounded in the kingdom of God. Where did their certainty come from? From the recognition that Jesus came not to abolish the law and the prophets, but to fulfill them.

Christians are called to weigh the law and the prophets through the lens of Christ’s command: that all must reflect love of God, love of self, and love of neighbor—including those we dislike and distrust. God, through the prophets, spoke in clear, pragmatic terms about what ordinary life should look like if it is to be just.

What follows is my interpretation of that prophetic vision—a morally coherent way of life. Some may say it’s unsophisticated or mere common sense. Perhaps so. But it didn’t originate with “just anyone.” It came from God. As Scripture reminds us, the truth is not so distant you must search the ends of the earth for it. It is here—in your heart and mind—if you will listen.

To follow another path is to invite disappointment and self-destruction. And too often, it’s the path we’ve taken.

A Prophetic Ethic for a Moral Society

• Do not use food as a weapon, even against enemies
• Do not engage in ethnic cleansing
• Maintain integrity in international relations
• Cultivate civil harmony
• Establish security for persons and property
• Respect legitimate civil authority
• Enact fair economic policies
• Engage in honest trade and commerce
• Do not charge interest that exploits the poor
• Ensure equal justice for all, especially the marginalized
• Remove systemic barriers to opportunity
• Have reverence for God’s holy places
• Treat all acts of intimacy with holiness
• Avoid intoxication in any form
• Let God’s prophets speak as they are inspired
• Honor the dignity of every human being
• Care for the poor, hungry, and homeless
• Worship God with heart, soul, and mind
• Practice humility before God and justice toward others
• Establish honest courts and judges
• Assure fair taxation for all
• Promote economic wellbeing, especially for the poor
• Show humble respect for the dignity of all
• Practice compassion toward the suffering

You may take issue with my interpretation, but not with the principles they represent. They are the way to a morally coherent life—for individuals and nations alike.

I glanced through a few headlines in the New York Times and Washington Post and caught some headline reports on CNN and MSNBC. They announced Trump had secured several important trade deals ahead of his August 1 ultimatum to all nations. While technically true, the reports failed to convey the obvious: these deals left readers and listeners with the impression that something good had been achieved for the nation, when that is unlikely at best.

Tariffs, as everyone should know by now, are a form of national sales tax paid by importers and eventually passed on to consumers. These so-called “wonderful new deals” have effectively raised that tax from about 2% or less to 15% or more. In return for increasing the tax burden on American citizens, Trump has secured vague promises from other countries to buy more American goods or invest more in American industries. It is difficult to see how any of these deals are meaningfully beneficial to the United States.

Trump appears to believe that revenue from import tariffs—a highly regressive tax—can replace taxes on earned income. The current income tax system, while far from perfect, is at least marginally progressive: those with higher incomes pay a greater share. Replacing it with a national sales tax disproportionately affects low-income Americans. No credible economist believes a tariff-based system can generate enough revenue to offset recent income tax cuts that have largely benefited the wealthy. The likely result is an overall tax increase for nearly everyone. That’s not what Trump has promised, nor, I think, what he believes will happen—but, as is so often the case, he simply does not know what he is doing.

He continues to claim other nations have been robbing us blind through unfair trade deals. Yes unfair trade practices exist and likely always will, but we have historically addressed them through negotiation, often with benefits to our own economy. Our trade disputes have mostly involved specific products—not trade in general. We willingly outsourced many well-paying manufacturing jobs to lower-cost countries. What we failed to do was invest adequately in the workers who were displaced. The fantasy of bringing those jobs back is just that—a fantasy. The old industrial processes and jobs no longer exist.

What we need instead is strong, purposeful government action to underwrite education and training for well-paying jobs suited to today’s and tomorrow’s economy. We also need to restructure corporate incentives to ensure those jobs truly offer good wages and security.

Other current headlines claim the economy remains robust, despite dire warnings about the impact of higher tariffs. Is this just Chicken Little crying that the sky is falling? I don’t think so. I see the warnings as a form of prophecy. They tell us that if we continue down this path, we will contribute to our own economic downfall—perhaps not this month or next quarter, but inevitably, all the same.