I laughed out loud reading Federalist Paper No. 10.
It's available online, but I wanted to read it on paper––I have an easier time paying close attention to things on paper, and I figured this would take attention (it did)––so I went to the library this afternoon and got a copy of The Federalist.
I stopped at a coffee shop on my way home to read the famous No. 10––it's only 8 pages long.
Reading it reminded me of truffle oil, which I've only eaten once, at an expensive French restaurant with my father.
I don't care much about cuisine, I'm pretty happy eating at White Castle. My father chose a multi-course menu for the whole table, and the first course was a little something on a big white plate, drizzled with truffle oil.
I thought, Oh, truffle oil, who cares?
And then I ate it, and it was so good, so flavorful, and so subtle, it's the sort of thing that makes you stop. Just stop. I don't care if I ever eat truffle oil again, but it's one of the best things I've ever tasted.
Like truffle hunting, this paper takes a bit of effort, but it's worth it. It's tight and elegant, a real pleasure, and if haven't read it before but you studied US History in grade school, you might think, like I did, "Oh, that's where that came from!"
"That" being a key element in the design of the government of the United States, my (and maybe your) country.
But also, this is a little essay about human nature, trying to see clearly and to think honestly about how we are, and not to fool ourselves that we, or anyone else, are better than we are. Or worse!
Thinking we're better than we are sets us up for temptations we can't handle.
Thinking we're worse than we are deprives us of freedoms we can handle (or that are worth risking, anyway).
Seeing that is both ennobling and humbling.
Here's the part that made me laugh.
James Madison, the author of this particular paper (Alexander Hamilton and John Jay wrote others--all signed "Publius"), is talking about how self-interest will sway lawmakers. It's just human nature. If a lawmaker has the opportunity to vote in his own interest, even if it sticks it to the little guy, well... maybe that's not a smart set up.
I have noticed this myself.
Further (this is where I laughed), he writes:
NO KIDDING!
The paper's modern that way.
Shortly after I read it a friend happened to come in the coffee shop, and I read those two lines aloud to her. She laughed in recognition too.
Reading Federalist No. 10, I felt a debt of gratitude to Publius for going after the philosophy of politics like pigs after truffles.
What we do with the results, well, that's up to us.
It's available online, but I wanted to read it on paper––I have an easier time paying close attention to things on paper, and I figured this would take attention (it did)––so I went to the library this afternoon and got a copy of The Federalist.
I stopped at a coffee shop on my way home to read the famous No. 10––it's only 8 pages long.
Reading it reminded me of truffle oil, which I've only eaten once, at an expensive French restaurant with my father.
I don't care much about cuisine, I'm pretty happy eating at White Castle. My father chose a multi-course menu for the whole table, and the first course was a little something on a big white plate, drizzled with truffle oil.
I thought, Oh, truffle oil, who cares?
And then I ate it, and it was so good, so flavorful, and so subtle, it's the sort of thing that makes you stop. Just stop. I don't care if I ever eat truffle oil again, but it's one of the best things I've ever tasted.
Like truffle hunting, this paper takes a bit of effort, but it's worth it. It's tight and elegant, a real pleasure, and if haven't read it before but you studied US History in grade school, you might think, like I did, "Oh, that's where that came from!"
"That" being a key element in the design of the government of the United States, my (and maybe your) country.
But also, this is a little essay about human nature, trying to see clearly and to think honestly about how we are, and not to fool ourselves that we, or anyone else, are better than we are. Or worse!
Thinking we're better than we are sets us up for temptations we can't handle.
Thinking we're worse than we are deprives us of freedoms we can handle (or that are worth risking, anyway).
Seeing that is both ennobling and humbling.
Here's the part that made me laugh.
James Madison, the author of this particular paper (Alexander Hamilton and John Jay wrote others--all signed "Publius"), is talking about how self-interest will sway lawmakers. It's just human nature. If a lawmaker has the opportunity to vote in his own interest, even if it sticks it to the little guy, well... maybe that's not a smart set up.
I have noticed this myself.
Further (this is where I laughed), he writes:
"It is in vain to say that enlightened statesmen will be able to adjust these clashing interests, and render them subservient to the public good.Ha!
Enlightened statesmen will not always be at the helm."
NO KIDDING!
The paper's modern that way.
Shortly after I read it a friend happened to come in the coffee shop, and I read those two lines aloud to her. She laughed in recognition too.
Reading Federalist No. 10, I felt a debt of gratitude to Publius for going after the philosophy of politics like pigs after truffles.
What we do with the results, well, that's up to us.
