If We Want Better, We Must Be Better

Social media, for all its flaws, has become our digital town square—where opinions form, conversations unfold, and news spreads in real-time. At its best, it fosters dialogue, deepens connections, and broadens understanding.

More often, it does the opposite. It fuels tribalism and rewards outrage. Conversations become battles—good versus evil, us versus them. Every disagreement feels personal, and the loudest voices dominate, seeking to “own” the opposition. The flames of outrage feed themselves because the algorithm doesn’t care about truth—it seeks and rewards engagement. And engagement thrives on division.

This didn’t happen by accident. Social media promised connection but discovered that conflict is more profitable. Outrage keeps us glued to our screens, reinforcing biases instead of challenging them. We live inside highly curated digital silos where actual debate is rare, and certainty crowds out curiosity and critical thinking.

So why engage at all? Why not retreat into our echo chambers? Because the conversation matters. Not just what we say, but how we say it. The way we interact—what we reward, what we tolerate—shapes the kind of leadership we get. If we reward outrage, we’ll get outrage merchants. If we value soundbites over substance, we’ll get leaders who chase headlines instead of solutions.

My last post, The GOP’s Faustian Bargain, was a thought experiment meant to provoke discussion. Some called it alarmist. Others understood what I was doing, while a few missed the point entirely, dismissing it as a partisan attack rather than a critique of unchecked power. But the responses reinforced why I write.

A society that values thoughtful discourse demands thoughtful leadership—not the other way around. This isn’t a chicken-and-egg question; we know which comes first. When debate is driven by reason, leaders must meet that standard, or they don’t get the chance to lead. But when outrage dominates, we get performance politicians—entertainers, not problem solvers. Yes, they fan the flames, but they’re not the arsonists—we are. If we didn’t fuel the fire, it would burn out.

If we want better government, we must resist the urge to burn it all down. Our leadership reflects the quality of our public discourse. If we want better leaders, we must elevate the debate—not to score points, but to sharpen our thinking.

The Philosopher-King vs. the Performance Politician

Plato had a radical idea: the best rulers are the ones who don’t seek power. In The Republic, he introduced the Philosopher-King—wise, reluctant to rule, and guided by reason rather than ambition. He warned that the greatest danger to society is leadership driven by personal ambition rather than a commitment to public service.

This idea has echoed throughout history. Marcus Aurelius saw wisdom as a guide for emperors. Enlightenment thinkers like Locke, Rousseau, and Kant wrestled with the implications of rulers driven by reason rather than self-interest. Even today, the ideal of a leader who seeks truth and the common good continues to inspire those who prioritize long-term progress over short-term wins.

Yet modern politics rarely rewards wisdom. Instead of Philosopher-Kings, we get performance politicians—leaders who treat governance as entertainment, prioritizing engagement over effectiveness. With elections often decided by razor-thin margins, you’d expect an incentive to moderate. Instead, politicians stoke outrage to keep their base engaged. Policy takes a backseat to viral moments.

If we want better leaders, we have to change the incentives. We must value thoughtfulness over theatrics, expect more than soundbites, and reject politics as entertainment.

And that starts with how we engage. Because ultimately, our political culture isn’t shaped by those in office—it’s shaped by those who put them there.

Recklessness in Leadership

Lately, I’ve been accused of hyper-partisanship—of suffering from Trump Derangement Syndrome. It’s an easy dismissal, a cop-out to avoid engaging with the argument.

I consider myself an old-school conservative with a libertarian streak. I believe in limited government, fiscal responsibility, strong national defense, and upholding democratic institutions. I lean left on some social issues, right on national security and economic policy. I believe in the rule of law, checks and balances, and a government that serves all its people—not just those who voted for the party in power.

I also believe in America’s role as a global leader. Isolationism can be tempting—"We should take care of our own first" is a common refrain, and I understand the sentiment. But I’ve seen firsthand how U.S. leadership promotes global stability and security, and that, in turn, benefits all Americans. A strong, engaged America deters threats before they reach our shores, strengthens our economy, and upholds the values that define us. Disengagement doesn’t make us safer; it makes us weaker.

So, I reject ideological purity tests and partisan tribalism. I’m not here to play for Team Red or Team Blue. I believe in protecting our democratic republic. The institutions and guardrails that have sustained this experiment in self-governance for the last two and a half centuries—imperfect as they are—are worth preserving.

It’s Not About Trump—It’s About Recklessness

This isn’t really about Trump.

I don’t “hate the man more than I hate fraud, waste, and abuse.” That’s a lazy oversimplification—a meme for small-minded consumption. What I do hate is thoughtlessness—governing by impulse rather than principle. And while Trump isn’t the first leader guilty of this, he’s made recklessness a virtue in the eyes of many.

What looks like strength in the short term often breeds dysfunction down the road. Fighting waste and bureaucracy is one thing; hollowing out the institutions that make the country function is another.

This is why leadership matters. A government that swings between extremes—thriving on performance and outrage rather than competence—cannot sustain itself. We can demand better, but only if we’re willing to be better—more engaged, more thoughtful, and more willing to wrestle with complex issues.

A Call for Thoughtful Leadership

Plato’s Philosopher-King may be an unattainable ideal, but it should remain our aspiration—leaders who govern with thoughtfulness, treat power as a responsibility rather than a prize, and recognize that true wisdom is rooted in humility.

Great leaders don’t assume they have all the answers. They surround themselves with experts, seek diverse perspectives, and uphold the institutions that sustain democracy. Leadership isn’t about dominance or control—it’s about making careful, measured decisions that serve the greater good. It requires humility, respect for institutions, and the ability to grow.

But we won’t get leaders like that unless we demand them. We don’t get Philosopher-Kings unless we decide for ourselves that is what we want.

And here’s the hard truth: We, as a society, have failed ourselves. The toxic political environment we complain about isn’t something that happened to us—it’s something we created.

We are the ones who reward outrage merchants. We are the ones who elevate partisanship over principle. We are the ones who consume media that feeds our biases, who react before we reflect, who vote for people who entertain us rather than those who would govern wisely.

If we hate what politics has become, we need to stop blaming politicians and start looking in the mirror. Because they are simply a reflection of us.

The power to change things is in our hands. The question isn’t whether we can—it’s whether we will. Because history is clear: leadership driven by ego and division thrives only when we allow it.

Politicians won’t lead us out of this—we have to lead them. And that starts by demanding better of ourselves.