The Eichman Trial and the Banality of Evil

On this day in 1961, former Nazi leader Adolf Eichmann—one of the key perpetrators of the Holocaust—was sentenced to death by an Israeli court after being found guilty on fifteen criminal charges, including war crimes, crimes against humanity, and crimes against the Jewish people. His widely publicized trial helped popularize the infamous defense of many evil men: That was just another cog in a bigger killing machine who had no choice but to follow orders.

While undoubtedly one of the most sinister figures in history, yet like many Nazi leaders, Eichmann had a relatively uninteresting life—he was college dropout-turned traveling oil salesman before joining the Nazi Party in 1932. He rose through the ranks to eventually become head of the “Jewish Department”, which was initially tasked with intimidating Jews, through violence and economic pressure, into leaving Germany, and increasingly all of Europe.

After drafting plans to deport Jews to distant “reservations” such as Madagascar, Eichmann was informed of a “Final Solution to the Jewish question”: rather than expulsion and resettlement, Jews were to be exterminated. This was decided at the Wannsee Conference of January 1942, a meeting of leading Nazi figures chaired by Eichmann’s superior, Reinhard Heydrich—widely considered to be the darkest figure of the regime and the principal architect of the Holocaust.

Eichmann on trial in 1961 (National Photo Collection of Israel)

Eichmann was thereafter charged with facilitating and managing the large-scale logistics of the Holocaust: the mass deportation of millions of Jews to ghettos and extermination camps in Nazi-occupied Eastern Europe during World War II. In essence, he was a faceless administrator of death, tallying the number of Jews in a given area, organizing the seizure and accounting of their solen property, and ensuring the trains ran on time to take them to certain death. He held regular meetings with staff and conducted inspections and tours of ghettos and camps across Europe, like some regional manager making sure all the stores under his care are running smoothly.

In this sense, Eichman revealed the morbidly dispassionate and bureaucratic nature of the Holocaust; he was never a leader or even a policymaker, but like hundreds of thousands involved in the Holocaust, was simply doing his job: Keeping the Nazi killing machine well-oiled and efficient.

After the war, Eichmann managed to avoid Allied forces under several aliases and connections, before finally settling in Argentina to live the quiet life he had denied of so many others. He was captured there by Mossad in 1960—a whole other saga worthy of its own post—and put in trial in Israel.

The trial revealed how normal men could commit and rationalize seemingly abnormal things (like the slaughter of an incalculable number of people). Eichmann defended his actions by simply asserting that he was “just following orders” (coined as the “Nuremberg Defense” for how often it was invoked by his associates after the war.). He insisted he had no authority in the Nazi regime, and that he was bound by his oath to Hitler; the decision to murder millions was made by the likes of Hitler and Heydrich, and he felt completely absolved of guilt. Reflecting on the Wannsee Conference that had implemented the Holocaust, Eichmann expressed relief and satisfaction that a clear decision had been made by the higherups, since it meant the killing were out of his hands.

Even before trial, investigators had concluded that Eichmann seemed genuinely incapable of grasping the enormity of his crimes, never once showing remorse. During trial, he admitted to not liking Jews and even seeing them as enemies, but claimed he did not think they needed to be killed. In one of his last statements in court, he admitted being guilty only for arranging the transports—not for the consequences.

(Eichmann would admit in trial that in 1945, he stated “I will leap into my grave laughing because the feeling that I have five million human beings on my conscience is for me a source of extraordinary satisfaction”; however, he wrote this off as simply reflecting his “opinion” at the time.)

In 2016, Eichmann’s written plea for pardon was published, revealing that this steadfast lack of conscience was evidently (and disturbingly) sincere: “There is a need to draw a line between the leaders responsible and the people like me forced to serve as mere instruments in the hands of the leaders. I was not a responsible leader, and as such do not feel myself guilty”.

Eichmann was executed by hanging on June 1, 1962. His last words were reportedly, “Long live Germany. Long live Argentina. Long live Austria. These are the three countries with which I have been most connected and which I will not forget. I greet my wife, my family and my friends. I am ready. We’ll meet again soon, as is the fate of all men. I die believing in God”; it is claimed he later mumbled “I hope that all of you will follow me”.

Eichmann’s trial had a lasting impact on our reflection and understanding of the Holocaust and of human evil as a whole. Perhaps the most famous example comes from Hannah Arendt, who reported on the trial and later wrote a book about it, Eichmann in Jerusalem, where she described him as the embodiment of the “banality of evil”: an otherwise average and mundane person, rather than a fanatic or sociopath, who rationalized his evil actions rather than own them; who was motivated by advancing his career rather than ideological commitment; and who was simply complacent with what was going on around him.  

Jewish Nazi hunter Simon Wiesenthal, who helped captured Eichmann, reflected on the trial:

The world now understands the concept of “desk murderer“. We know that one doesn’t need to be fanatical, sadistic, or mentally ill to murder millions; that it is enough to be a loyal follower eager to do one’s duty.

The term “little Eichmanns” has since been used to describe people whose actions, on an individual scale, seem relatively harmless even to themselves, but who collectively create destructive and immoral systems in which they are actually complicit—but too far removed to notice, let alone feel responsible.

The Eichmann trial is a disturbing reminder that much of human evil, including the worst atrocities imaginable, are perpetrated or facilitated not by psychopaths or fanatics, but by normal and sometimes even otherwise decent people. It is a cautionary tale for all times, places, and people.

Remember Death

Jumping off my post some days ago about the Stoic “premeditation of evils“: Virtually every society since ancient times understood that we should always be aware of death.

Socrates said that good philosophy is “about nothing else but dying and being dead.”

Early Buddhist texts use the term maranasati, which translates as “remember death”, which became the mantra of medieval Christian societies following the devastation of the bubonic plague.

Some adherents of Sufism, the mystical tradition of Islam, are known as the “people of the graves” for their practice of visiting graveyards to ponder death, as Mohammad himself had once advised.

The ancient Egyptians, already so well known for their obsession with death, had a custom of bringing out a skeleton during festivities and cheer, “Drink and be merry, for when you’re dead you will look like this.”

Mexico’s globally iconic Day of the Dead fuses both the Catholic and indigenous fascination with death, putting a more optimistic spin on our ability to remain connected to departed loved ones while appreciative of our time on Earth.

Still Life with a Skull, by Philippe de Champaigne, which depicts the three essentials of existence: life (the tulip), death (the skull), and the time (the hourglass). The original painting is part of a 17th century artistic genre called Vanitas, which encouraged reflection on the meaning and fleetingness of life.

Perhaps the most famous proponents of this idea were the Stoics I quoted last time, who emerged in the Roman Empire the third century B.C.E. In his private journal known as the Meditations, Emperor Marcus Aurelius advised to himself that “You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.” Roman statesman and orator Seneca advised that we go to bed thinking “You may not wake up tomorrow” and start the day thinking “You may not sleep again”. He also recommended that we:

…prepare our minds as if we’d come to the very end of life. Let us postpone nothing. Let us balance life’s books each day…The one who puts the finishing touches on their life each day is never short of time.

All this probably sounds pretty morbid and depressing, not to mention counterintuitive: Thinking about death all the time is no way to live and would probably paralyze us with fear (take it from someone with chronic anxiety). But as another famous Stoic, the slave Epictetus, explained:

Keep death and exile before your eyes each day, along with everything that seems terribly doing so, you’ll never have a base thought, nor will you have excessive desire.

Extrapolating from this, some modern Stoics advise that we remember that the people we fight with will die; the strangers cut us off on the road or in line will die; that every time we say goodbye to a loved one, we keep in mind they may die before we see or speak with them again. Again, the point is not to be depressed, clingy, or nihilistic, but to help put things in perspective and value each finite second we have.

The people we hate will end up just like us one day, which both humanizes them and reminds us not to waste precious little time occupied by them. The people we love will end up the same way, so better that we make the most of our time and fill it with happiness. Of course, all this is easier said than done: It’s every culture and society has been trying to refine this advise for as long as our species has been aware of its own mortality.

World Happiness Report: Finland Tops the List Again, Most Countries Resilient Thru COVID-19

The ninth annual World Happiness Report, published by the United Nations, has just been released, and it’s the first to follow an unprecedented global calamity that impacted billions and personally affected tens of millions more. So, needless to say, its results should be interesting, if not grim.

But as the Washington Post reported, the world was largely resilient through the pandemic, maintaining a relatively positive outlook for the future:

In a conclusion that even surprised its editors, the 2021 World Happiness Report found that, amid global hardship, self-reported life satisfaction across 95 countries on average remained steady in 2020 from the previous year. The United States saw the same trend — despite societal tumult that yielded a national drop in positive emotions and a rise in negative ones. The country fell one spot, to 19th, in the annual rankings of the report, which was released Saturday.

The report is good news regarding global resilience, experts say.

“I don’t want to leave an impression that all was well, because it’s not,” said one of the report’s editors, Jeffrey Sachs, an economics professor at Columbia University. But while the use of national averages masks individual well-being disparities, Sachs said, the data suggests that “people have not thrown up their hands about their lives.”

You can read more about the methodology here, but basically, it draws its data from the Gallup World Poll, which asks people worldwide to rate their current life satisfaction from zero to ten, with ten representing “the best possible life” and zero the “worst possible life”. Respondents are also asked to report their positive and negative emotions and experiences felt the day before the survey.

Taking together both short-term and long-term self-evaluations of life satisfaction, the WHR found these to be the twenty happiest countries through 2020:

The next twenty runners up are a pretty eclectic mix as well, spanning an ever broader variety of cultures, political systems, and levels of economic development:

Overall, while there was a “significantly higher frequency of negative emotions” in just over a third of the 149 countries measuredagain, do mostly to the pandemic things got better for 22 countries, particularly in Asia; even China moved up ten places to 84th. As one of the report’s author’s noted, there was not an overall decline in well-being as expressed by the respondents.

For the U.S., which has been one of the harder-hit countries during the pandemic, to say nothing of its tumultuous social and political circumstances?

In late March to early April of 2020, at the beginning of pandemic restrictions, 58.2 percent of U.S. respondents rated their current life satisfaction as a 7 or above, Gallup found.

While the number of Americans reporting anxiety and depressive symptoms rose sharply over the course of 2020, that satisfaction number stayed fairly even through December, according to the report, even after further covid-19 restrictions, pandemic surges, protests over racial injustices and politics, and a divisive presidential election.

All the while, Americans’ expected future happiness remained high: In five surveys since the pandemic began, between 65.8 and 69.2 percent of respondents said they expected their life satisfaction to be an 8 or above five years into the future, higher than before the pandemic. That suggests an optimism for the future that Sonja Lyubomirsky, a psychology professor at the University of California at Riverside, says is “really, really adaptive.”

Counterintuitively, it may have been the awful hardship of the past year that actually gave a boost to a lot of folks’ happiness:

It’s not so much that people are doing precisely as well as they were before, experts explain, as that many have adapted to their new situations in ways that might have roughly evened out their well-being. “One of the quotes we use is ‘You aren’t traveling the world, but you’re more likely to have met your neighbors this year,’ ” said John Helliwell, another editor of the report and a professor emeritus of economics at the University of British Columbia.

Stressors such as those we’ve experienced this year can encourage people to craft a different, big-picture concept of happiness. And this, psychologists say, can improve resilience. You’ve already likely taken the opportunity to examine your own big picture this past year, but, if you’ve been having difficulty, and because we’re not done with this pandemic, here are some strategies to help.

Of course, this isn’t to make light of all the horrors that have unfolded across the world this past year alone. Just because something doesn’t kill you, doesn’t mean it makes you stronger, and enough people around you being killed or maimed by war, disease, or the wanton cruelties of life will take its toll.

Still, this would explain why countries like Costa Rica, Bahrain, Guatemala, Mexico, and Saudi Arabia—which together struggle with chronic poverty, inequality, violence, and/or political oppression—can be among the happiest places in the world, at the same level as, if not ahead of, much better-off places.

But that brings us to Finland, which has topped the ranking for the fourth time in a row. In fact, all but one of the top ten (New Zealand) are northern European countries—the same places that perform well in rankings of livability, life expectancy, democratic governance, low corruption, and the like. Clearly, happiness still has a lot to do with material and environmental conditions—money can only buy so much of it, as we all hear, but there is some point where baseline needs like shelter, health, economic security, and the like must be met to better ensure lifelong satisfaction.

Indeed, Finland seems to reflect this delicate balance perfectly. On the one hand, as Afar explains, there’s the cultural component:

Finns embrace a unique spirit of fortitude for thriving in tough times, which for them, often manifests via the weather. This national ideology even has a name: It’s called sisu, and it’s at the core of Finns’ well-being, suggests Katja Pantzar, a Helsinki-based journalist and author of The Finnish Way, which delves into the concept. As Pantzar explains, sisu is focused on persevering when the odds are against you and to view challenges as opportunities. “Instead of waiting for a warm sunny day,” she offers, “many Finns practice daily sisu by heading out in any kind of weather for a brisk walk or cycle, or to spend time in nature.” These simple and sensible activities are at the heart of what keeps Finns happy, Pantzar concludes, adding “I keep returning to this Finnish saying, ‘Happiness does not come from searching for it, but by living.’” And living with sisu, for Pantzar, like many Finns, means bundling up in the snow to bike to work or swimming in the sea year-round— even when it’s covered in ice.

But there is also a concerted effort to put in place economic, political, and social structures that promote individual and community stability, human flourishing, and ultimately life satisfaction, as detailed in Forbes:

Finland has long been praised by a multitude of international bodies for its extensive welfare benefits, low levels of corruption, well-functioning democracy, and its instilled sense of freedom and autonomy. Its progressive taxation and wealth distribution has allowed for a flourishing universal healthcare system, and, staggeringly, more than 80% of Finns trust their police force, which is far more than many other countries can claim. 

Finland has long been punching above its weight within the global economy, too, giving the world global brands such as Nokia, Rovio (developer of Angry Birds), Supercell (creators of Clash of Clans) and elevator manufacturer KONE. 

The country is famous for being one of the first countries to push the flat working model, which exemplifies the Finnish approach to how businesses should be run, as well as how employees should be treated in the workplace. The flat working model is one in which there are few – or sometimes even zero – hierarchal levels between management and staff. Typically there is less supervision of employees and the structure aims to promote increased involvement with organizational decision-making, enabling open communication between all departments and teams within a business. 

The key takeaway from Forbes is that Finland and its high-ranking peers all share a holistic approach to human rights and happiness, one that recognizes that individual freedom comes from having the right resources and environment to unlock your potential and self-actualize:

The happiness of the Finnish people stems not only from its large number of welfare policies, its intrinsic affinity for mutual trust and equality but also from freedom. The mindset that one can only be free and independent if everyone is equally free and independent drives the country’s policy-making and underpins what it means to be Finnish. 

For many, it’s about living in a country where all conceivable basic needs are met, whether that’s healthcare, education, or having a job that makes you feel fulfilled. The overarching theme is that Finland remains ahead of the curve in so many facets of life. For now, Finland is ranking top, but the hope is that the example Finland is setting helps other countries to better care for their people. The fact that the country continues to pioneer social and economic welfare, education and working best-practice is something of which other countries should take note when looking at improving the happiness of their people.

Not bad for a country that just seventy years ago was one of the poorest and most devastated in the world. It goes to show that maybe happiness and well-being need not be so abstract and philosophical: Yes, the deeply poor and traumatized can be happy, while the very rich and privileged can be miserable, but the overall picture from around the world is that culture, mindset, and baseline material wealth all build on each other. With mutual trust comes resilience and security, and with security and resilience comes more mutual trust (i.e., you know your fellow citizens and institutions will look out for you); it’s a virtuous cycle that can persist even though the worst circumstances.

But those are just my own rushed thoughts — what do you think?

Survival’s Guilt and the Human Condition

I used to comfort myself with the fact that, compared to the vast majority of humans today and throughout history, I have it pretty damn good. Of the 107 billion people who ever lived, all but a relative handful lived short and miserable lives defined by work, disease, ignorance, fear, and repression. Hell, billions died before they even reached the age of five, and billions more before their prime. Even fewer had the chance to self-actualize, to reach certain goals of personal fulfillment and achievement, or to enjoy basic comforts and conveniences; good food, entertainment, a warm bed, etc.

It always felt kind of wrong to use others’ senseless suffering to bolster my own sense of purpose and gratitude. But it also isn’t working like it used to, because I realize what it all says about human existence. How the heck can I get solace from knowing that the default experience of most thinking and feeling animals is pointless suffering? And that the only reason I am in a better position is a series of fortunate circumstances, starting with when and where I was born?

It is madness-inducing to imagine that most living things suffer and die without any meaning. Humans across time and place have come up with all sorts of religious and spiritual beliefs and practices to explain and cope, but none of it is as verifiable, salient, and provable as the suffering right in front of us. As far as anyone can truly tell, things just come and go in and out of existence, and there is no real point to it. (I explore a lot of these beliefs and ideas, but none of them ever really stick, even if I can’t rule them out.)

I don’t know, maybe this pandemic and the general state of the world have just weakened my mental resilience. As grateful and comfortable and amazing as my life has been, it is harder to focus on the good given the more widespread and established reality of existence being really awful. I know I’m not the first to think about this, and I know most of the reassurances and counterpoints, I just feel kind of stuck. I welcome any and all perspectives on this.

For my part, all I can do is make the most of this wonderful life that has been granted to me, to embrace and indulge in its wonders and beauties, to add to its kindness and compassion, and, above all, to strive to make it as wonderful for everyone else as possible. It’s not much, but it’s something, and despite these hiccups, it has gotten me this far—for which I am eternally grateful.

World Mental Health Day

Today is World Mental Health Day, launched in 1996 by the UN—at the urging of the World Mental Health Federation and with support from the WHO—to raise awareness about one of the most misunderstood but increasingly problematic issues facing humanity.

Even the concept of mental health is fairy new in human history. What we now call mental illnesses were known, studied, and treated by the ancient Mesopotamians, Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, Chinese, and Indians. Some were called “hysteria” and “melancholy” by the Egyptians, and certain Hindu texts describe symptoms associated with anxiety, depression, and schizophrenia. The Greeks coined the term “psychosis”, meaning “principle of life/animation”, in reference to the condition of the soul.

In virtually every society up until the 18th century, mental health was associated with moral, supernatural, magical and/or religious causes, usually with the victim at fault in some way. The Islamic world came closest to developing something like a mental health institution, with “bimaristans” (hospitals) as early as the ninth century having wards dedicated to the mentally ill. The term “crazy” (from Middle English meaning “cracked”) and insane (from Latin insanus meaning “unhealthy”) came to mean mental disorder in Medieval Europe.

In the mid 19th century, American doctor William Sweester coined the term “mental hygiene” as a conceptual precursor to mental health. Advances in medicine, both technologically and philosophically, quickly found the connection between mental and physical health while minimizing the idea of moral or spiritual flaws being the cause (the Greeks did come close to this, namely Hippocrates, who linked syphilis to a physical cause).

But the dark takeaway from this was the so called “social hygiene movement“, which saw eugenics, forced sterilization, and harsh experimental treatments as the solutions to mental and physical disabilities or divergences. Though the Nazis were the ultimate manifestation of this odious idea, their propaganda and policies cited most of the Western world, including the U.S., as standing with them in their efforts to cleanse populations. (In fact, the term mental health was devised after the Second World War partly to replace the now-poisoned idea of mental “hygiene”.)

While we have come a long way towards realizing the evils and horrors of how we treat mental illness—from ancient times to very recent history—abuses, misunderstandings, and neglect remain worldwide problems.

Hence I also want to take today to thank everyone throughout my life who has been so understanding, supportive, and affirming with respect to my own mental health struggles. I would never have broken through my anxiety or depression induced barriers without a loving and compassionate social support structure along the way (to say nothing of my relative socioeconomic privileges, which unfortunately remains the most common barrier to mental health treatment in the U.S.).

I am certainly luckier than most. Mental illnesses are more common in the U.S. than cancer, diabetes, or heart disease, which are far better known and addressed. Over a quarter of all Americans over the age of 18 meet the criteria for having a mental illness. Youth mental health has become especially dire, with 13% reporting a major depressive episode just over the past year, of whom only 28% get treatment. And over 90% of Americans with a substance abuse issue (which is usually tied to mental health) receive no treatment.

Worldwide, one out of four humans endure a mental health episode in their lifetimes. Depressive disorders are already the fourth leading cause of the global disease burden, and will likely rank second by the end of 2020, behind only ischemic heart disease. According to the World Health Organization (WHO), the global cost of mental illness—in terms of treatment, lost productivity, etc.—was nearly $2.5 trillion in 2010, with a projected increase to over $6 trillion by 2030.

Tragically, most mental health issues can be treated with relative ease: 80% of people with schizophrenia can be free of relapses following one year of treatment with antipsychotic drugs combined with family intervention. Up to 60% of people with depression can recover with a proper combination of antidepressant drugs and psychotherapy. And up to 70% of people with epilepsy can be seizure free with simple, inexpensive anticonvulsants. Even changing one’s diet could have an effect.

But over 40% of countries have no mental health policy, over 30% have no mental health programs, and around 25% have no mental health legislation. Nearly a third of countries allocate less than 1% of their total health budgets to mental health, while another third spend just 1% of their budgets on mental health. (The U.S. spent about 7.6% in 2001.)

In his book, Lost Connections: Uncovering the Real Causes of Depression – and the Unexpected Solutions, Johann Hari explores the environmental and socioeconomic factors that contribute to poor mental health, and how these are often neglected in discussions and approaches to depression and anxiety.

Someone could meditate, think positively, or pursue therapy all they want, but if they are rationing insulin to stay alive, cannot find affordable housing, struggle to find a well paying job, and are otherwise at the mercy of external forces that leave them fundamentally deprived, such treatments—however effective and beneficial in many contexts—can only go so far.

He illustrates this perfectly with the following account:

In the early days of the 21st century, a South African psychiatrist named Derek Summerfeld went to Cambodia, at a time when antidepressants were first being introduced there. He began to explain the concept to the doctors he met. They listened patiently and then told him they didn’t need these new antidepressants, because they already had antidepressants that work. He assumed they were talking about some kind of herbal remedy.

He asked them to explain, and they told him about a rice farmer they knew whose left leg was blown off by a landmine. He was fitted with a new limb, but he felt constantly anxious about the future, and was filled with despair. The doctors sat with him, and talked through his troubles. They realised that even with his new artificial limb, his old job—working in the rice paddies—was leaving him constantly stressed and in physical pain, and that was making him want to just stop living. So they had an idea. They believed that if he became a dairy farmer, he could live differently. So they bought him a cow. In the months and years that followed, his life changed. His depression—which had been profound—went away. ‘You see, doctor,’ they told him, the cow was an ‘antidepressant’.

To them, finding an antidepressant didn’t mean finding a way to change your brain chemistry. It meant finding a way to solve the problem that was causing the depression in the first place. We can do the same. Some of these solutions are things we can do as individuals, in our private lives. Some require bigger social shifts, which we can only achieve together, as citizens. But all of them require us to change our understanding of what depression and anxiety really are.

This is radical, but it is not, I discovered, a maverick position. In its official statement for World Health Day in 2017, the United Nations reviewed the best evidence and concluded that ‘the dominant biomedical narrative of depression’ is based on ‘biased and selective use of research outcomes’ that ‘must be abandoned’. We need to move from ‘focusing on ‘chemical imbalances’, they said, to focusing more on ‘power imbalances’.

I can only hope that as mental health becomes less stigmatized—less a matter of superstition, genetic inferiority, or moral and individual failing—we can work towards building fairer and more just societies that promote human flourishing, physically, mentally, and spiritually.

Source: WHO

What an Ancient Broken Femur Says About Civilization

There is an apocryphal story about the anthropologist Margaret Mead that has a timeless and universal message, though it’s relevant now than ever.

Years ago, she was asked by a student what she considered to be the first sign of civilization in a culture. The student expected Mead to talk about clay pots, tools for hunting, grinding-stones, or religious artifacts.

But no. Mead said that the first evidence of civilization was a 15,000 years old fractured femur found in an archaeological site. A femur is the longest bone in the body, linking hip to knee. In societies without the benefits of modern medicine, it takes about six weeks of rest for a fractured femur to heal. This particular bone had been broken and had healed.

Mead explained that in the animal kingdom, if you break your leg, you die. You cannot run from danger, you cannot drink or hunt for food. Wounded in this way, you are meat for your predators. No creature survives a broken leg long enough for the bone to heal. You are eaten first.

A broken femur that has healed is evidence that another person has taken time to stay with the fallen, has bound up the wound, has carried the person to safety and has tended them through recovery. A healed femur indicates that someone has helped a fellow human, rather than abandoning them to save their own life.

Many thanks to my friend Arthur K Burditt for sharing this.

Reflections on a Decade Graciously Well Spent

Around this time in 2010, I graduated from Florida International University with a double B.A. in international relations and political science. I had vague plans to either work at a think tank in D.C., enter the U.S. Foreign Service, be an international lawyer, or even some combination of the three.

But year after year, I kept stalling for one reason or another, mostly to do low self esteem, my comfort zone, and personal finances. In that time, I wandered through a disparate path, including a job at the county health department, a semester studying philosophy at Miami-Dade, an unpaid internship at an NGO, and three years in marketing (of all places). I also became a freelance writing, using the skills I learned in school for something totally contrary to my supposed goals.

To be sure, I was content and grateful — in far better shape than the vast majority of humans — but I did not feel fulfilled.

It remains surreal to reflect on where I am now, and how unspeakably lucky I am. I had lost hope on ever being a healthy long-term relationship, let alone the wonderful marriage I am infinitely fortunate to have. I am about to enter my last semester of law school at University of Miami — something I never thought I had the skills or courage to do — and gotten to see and do so many amazing things I missed out on in undergrad due to that same crippling self doubt. I am loving my legal work and finally found my calling in life, hand’s down.

Speaking of which, my psychological hangups have largely been contained as well, due in no small part to the support of an endless list of loved ones, colleagues, and peers, most of all my incredibly supportive wife, who was one of the main catalysts for finally getting into law school. The amount of patience, goodwill, and encouragement from a multitude of people in and out of law school has been overwhelming, humbling, and impossible to pay back.

Most of all though, I’m just lucky to be alive for another year, and to have enjoyed a steady and happy life from literally day one. So many people never make it to another year — hundreds of thousands still don’t pass their first birthdays — and yet I’m not only here, but remain in that elite fraction of our species that enjoys unparalleled privilege, opportunity, and hope.

It goes to show how much I owe my fortuitous decade to the kindness and charity of others, both known and unknown, and how much can change in just one year, let alone ten. Whatever you yearn for, don’t let up. I know it’s easier said than done, especially in hindsight, but there is no real alternative in my (privileged) view.

Here’s to another year of building myself up to pay it all forward, with all you wonderful folks there to make me hopefully, happy, and forever grateful. I wish you all a great year and decade ahead.

Daily Survivor’s Guilt

With the sheer amount of people that die every day for no good reason — from freak accidents, horrific acts of violence, or even banal causes — regardless of what they were doing and what kind of people they were, you can’t help but feel a sense of survivor’s guilt every day you make it out alive.

It is all the more sobering when you consider that an estimated 106 billion people have existed in this world, and the overwhelming majority of them lived short and brutal lives, ravaged by disease, constant violence, ignorance, oppression, and so many other miseries.

It is sobering to know that the only reason I am in the top 0.00000001 percent of humans who have ever lived, and why I am still here to reflect on it from the comfort of my home, is pure, unearned luck. (And even if someone wants to credit some divine or cosmic force out there looking out for me, you have to wonder why I get that honor when people just as deserving, if not more so, don’t; still feels like pure luck.)

Ushering in the New Year With Immense Gratitude

I am immensely grateful to have made it to another year in this world. It seems morbid to frame it that way, but consider that the vast majority of the 108 billion people who have ever existed had short, painful, and miserable lives that often ended in terrifying violence, famine, or disease.

This remains the reality for tens of millions of people around the world, and it’s only by random luck that I was born in just the right time, place, and condition not to be in the same position. I — and most of you reading this — are literally in the top 3-4 percent of all humans who have ever lived, for no discernible reason than random chance. (This doesn’t even include the many people who live in similar prosperity but whose lives are cut short by freak accidents that could just as well happen to anyone.)

Of course, this kind of gratitude should be had every moment of everyday, but given the context, now is as good a time as any to highlight it.

Another Ebola Outbreak Speaks to the Cruel Randomness of Birth

An Ebola outbreak has reported in the Congo, and may be spreading to larger cities where it will become more virulent. The horrific disease, which is sometimes known as the death of a thousand cuts, is endemic to the region; only a few years ago, a similar outbreak, this time in West Africa, claims tens of thousands of lives in across three of some of the world’s poorest countries.

I cannot help but contemplate the sheer randomness of the human condition. By a mere accident of birth, millions of people are at risk of dying in one of the most awful ways imaginable. Hundreds of millions more find themselves born in places rife with disease, natural disasters, poverty, and/or political repression.  Continue reading