What would happen, I wonder, what might it be like if aliens arrived?

I think the biggest effect wouldn’t even be physical—it would be mental and emotional. Uncertainty would come first, and in various ways. Some people would probably feel fear or even paranoia, starting to connect normal things—like strange lights in the sky or random news stories—to aliens. When there aren’t clear answers, it feels like the mind naturally starts filling in the gaps, usually in the worst way.

At the same time, I could also see it creating a strange sense of unity. If humans thought something outside Earth was watching us, a great deal of everyday differences like politics or nationality might start to feel less important. It might make people think more about being part of one shared community instead of being divided into groups.

I think the biggest impact wouldn’t be the aliens themselves — it would be how people react to not really knowing what’s true. That uncertainty would shape fear, curiosity, and even moments of unity more than any confirmed fact ever could. In the end, it might say more about human nature than about extraterrestrial life—showing how quickly we try to explain the unknown, and how deeply it affects the way we see ourselves and each other.

Similarly, the ethical issues would not depend on aliens actually being here. They raise questions about truth, responsibility, risk, justice, and how humanity ought to behave when faced with the unknown.

But, as I said, my mind wanders. Back now to reality (or …?).

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture.

Some religions extend membership primarily to the offspring and converted spouses of current members, creating what is called an “ethnoreligion,” or a group whose religious and ethnic identity are linked. Judaism, Islam, and Coptic Christianity all use circumcision as a religious marker – cutting off part of the potential membership. Christians initiate new members through the ritual of baptism, a ceremony involving water and communal oaths. It is not too difficult to get baptized.

Both Judaism and Christianity are covenantal religions, based on agreements and promises, traditionally “with God,” but, in practice, to each other. These religions predate modern legal systems and are designed to have their own laws transcend those of any particular government. Unitarian Universalism also considers itself a covenantal religion. In contrast, modern membership organizations are formal, legal institutions democratically governed by dues-paying members. Ethical Culture societies are of this kind, even though they are also registered as a religious body.

As an organization seeks to attract new members, it is worth reflecting on what membership means. Some community participants are not formal members – they may be paid staff, and friends and family who attend events but have no interest in governance. And some dues-paying members reject or seriously question core aspects of the philosophy or culture. In the case of Ethical Culture, for instance, the idea of the universal worth of all human beings might be debated among formal members.

David Saville Muzzey, an early Ethical Culture leader, wrote that “the sole condition of [Ethical Culture] membership is the desire to be associated with a group devoted to ethical culture – that is, to the cultivation of moral character.” He argued that Ethical Culture should attempt to draw members from those who “have no focus of spiritual life” or “dwell in the great religious valley of indecision,” not those satisfied with other faiths. But he held that Ethical fellowship engages in educational, charitable, and social activities “not as ends in themselves but as instrumental to the larger end of
creating a community of mutually stimulating seekers after righteousness.”

These considerations are pressing for religious or spiritual communities as they adapt to social changes. Membership according to secular law may be neither necessary or sufficient for membership in a spiritual group. What is?

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture.

After one such takeover, a volunteer fire department in Connecticut reported a jump in the subscription price it paid for critical software that tracks emergencies. Their yearly rate went from $795 for a phased-out product to $5,000 for what was advertised as a superior replacement product.

In addition to purchasing software platforms, private equity firms are buying the manufacturers of radios, fire-truck engines, and flame-retardant chemicals. As a result, the cost to end-users generally goes up. This new reality makes it difficult to maintain, let alone replace, old equipment. And money for the training of firefighting crews—because volunteers come and go—is much less. All this hits rural areas especially hard. But regardless of where people live, taxpayers wind up paying the price in dollars, safety, or both.

Why is this happening? The phenomenon of private equity firms buying up vital resources that support the public good is attractive because tax law, as presently written, advantages these buy-outs—whether in housing, healthcare, or even community newspapers. The carried-interest tax provision allows private equity companies to pay a lower tax rate because their incomes are classified as investments.

Can free markets coexist with the delivery of vital public goods and services?

That’s up to our legislators—and us. Clearly, ethics entered into the thinking. Last year, Oregon took a first step by passing legislation that prohibits private-equity firms from controlling healthcare practices. Other states can do the same and more if voters demand it. Then Congress can eliminate the carried-interest tax loophole. And we can tell our elected representatives that in a country that says it cares for all its citizens, some practices are no longer acceptable.

To combat what seems to be this natural drift toward the negative, I anchor my days in appreciation through a nightly ritual. Every evening, before I go to sleep, I open my “gratitude journal” to write down the specific positives of the day. This simple act has become a vital sanctuary; it forces me to slow down, actively search for the light, and shift my perspective from what the world took from me to what it gave me. In so doing, I believe I am treating myself lovingly and ethically.

Lately, my journal entries have centered on the immense privilege of independence and security. At 77 years of age, I am profoundly grateful for my health—for the ability to do everything I have to do entirely unassisted. I am fortunate to have access to excellent medical care, a tight-knit circle of friends, and a life free from financial strain. Looking ahead, I am also holding space for a new hope: that by the end of this year, I will welcome a new canine companion into my life.

Practicing gratitude isn’t about ignoring the very real problems or heartbreaks in the world. Rather, it is a quiet rebellion against despair. Acknowledging these gifts grounds me, offering a steady center of gravity when everything else feels shaky. When we recognize how much we have, we naturally become more resilient, patient, and generous.

The next time the weight of the world feels like too much, I suggest that you pause, look around, and find just one ordinary thing to be thankful for. You might even write down your thoughts, as I do.

Don’t be surprised at how quickly the darkness begins to soften.

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture.

“The day is short and the work is great. The laborers are lazy though the reward is great. … It is not incumbent on you to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.”

I like to interpret the teaching in a societal/global way and see it as a foundation for a political philosophy.

What is the point of politics in a democratic society anyway? Is it just a contest between two teams, and am I supposed to root for my team and be happy when they capture political office and be sad when they lose? And do I choose my team like a sports fan, based on geography and what the people around me think? Or is it something more? Should our politics reflect a moral vision of what American society and the world can be?

Of course, different people have different visions of what constitutes a “good” society and world, but I think we should always aim for a humane and benevolent community with as little human suffering - and as much individual freedom and social justice - as possible.

What I like about the Talmudic teaching is its existentialist and real-world, down-to-earth way of saying, “No one (not even God) is demanding perfection, we never reach utopia, but we never give up trying to make things better for all our fellow human beings..” Or, as the Founding Fathers would say, striving for “a more perfect union.”

The Founders knew they had created something great, but they never envisioned that the work was completed in 1787. Nor was it completed when slavery was abolished or when women achieved the right to vote, or when gay marriage was legalized.

That is, or should be, the whole point of politics; indeed, of our lives as human beings. We never reach perfection, but we must never stop the striving to end poverty, less strife, and to achieve more freedom and more social justice, more lasting peace, more kindness. These are our ethical obligations.

And this is the foundation of my existentialist/humanist philosophy and my progressive politics. We always progress, we never finish.

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture.

As Americans, we celebrate and revere our founding document, the Declaration of Independence in this first week of the month. In so many ways, July 4 - now popularly known as Independence Day - has informed our destiny.

1802 The U.S. Military Academy officially opens at West Point, NY.

1817 Construction begins on the Erie Canal in New York State.

1826 U.S. Presidents John Adams and Thomas Jefferson die on the exact 50^th anniversary of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence.

1831 James Monroe, our fifth U.S. President, also passes away on July 4.

1831 “My Country, Tis of Thee” is performed in public for the first time at a celebration in Boston.

1845 Henry David Thoreau takes up residence on Walden Pond, MA.

1855 Walt Whitman self-publishes the first edition of Leaves of Grass.

1872 Calvin Coolidge is born in Vermont, the only President born on Independence Day.

1876 Susan B. Anthony addresses Congress on suffrage.

1884 France presents the United States with the Statue of Liberty.

1939 Baseball great Lou Gehrig delivers his immortal “Luckiest Man” speech in Yankee Stadium, announcing his retirement due to a diagnosis of ALS disease.

1950 Radio Free Europe broadcasts for the first time.

1959 Hawaii receives statehood… and one year later…

1960 Alaska enters the Union as our 50^th state.

1966 President Lyndon B. Johnson signs the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) into law, a major victory for First Amendment protections.

1997 NASA’s Pathfinder probe lands on Mars.

2004 The cornerstone of New York’s Freedom Tower, now called One World Trade Center, is laid.

2026 In the shadow of the Statue of Liberty, 37 tall ships from 30 countries sail in grand parade formation, the largest gathering of its kind to enter the Port of New York.

And for the record:

Members of the Second Continental Congress voted 12-0 (New York abstained) on a motion to officially separate the American colonies from British rule on July 2, 1776.

By July 3, two Pennsylvania newspapers reported that “the Continental Congress declared the United States Colonies free and independent States.” That same day, John Adams wrote home to his wife, Abigail: “The Second Day of July 1776 will be the most memorable Epocha in the History of America.” Adams believed the Second of July, not the Fourth, would become a national holiday.

July 4 marks the day in 1776 when the final version of the Declaration of Independence was adopted by the Continental Congress. All signatures would be added to the Declaration by early August.

Approximately 16,000 community fireworks displays take place across the United States on the 4th of July. Much to celebrate!

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community forEthical Culture.

Data, algorithms, machine learning, and artificial intelligence are at work in all the digital platforms we use -- including this very Substack. In 2018, partly in response to a series of scandals around racial bias in recidivism prediction and housing advertising algorithms, the first Association of Computing Machinery conference on Fairness, Accountability, and Transparency took place in New York. This annual conference was bigger than ever this year in Montreal.

The conference attracts an eclectic mix of university and industry AI researchers and social scientists, policy wonks from government and think tanks, and civil society activists. This year, there were four keynote lectures, hundreds of paper talks, and close to 50 tutorials, spread over four days. Topics ranged from addiction to digital services, consumer privacy, regulatory mechanisms for AI systems, and fairness interventions to improve outcomes of digital systems for marginalized groups. One steady theme of the conference has been a long-known issue: that systems designed for the “normal” majority of people tend to impose hidden costs on those that are more marginal, and this contributes invisibly to structural inequality over time.

When this conference began less than ten years ago, there were not many places where those with sincere concern for the impact of technology on society could convene, share research, and form actionable plans to align the digital systems we depend on with principles of justice. Prior to conferences like it, technical expertise was typically seen as value-neutral and was separated from humanistic concerns. But as digital systems are increasingly intertwined with every aspect of life, this distinction is more and more untenable. A new interdisciplinary field of research arose out of practical necessity.

As we work towards a practical and scalable understanding of designing artificial intelligence that is aligned with social values like fairness, accountability, and transparency, we learn something quite profound. Researchers in this field are, out of practical need, developing a science of justice and ethics that can be encoded into software systems or public policy that regulated technology services. An example of this is the rapid development of a deep formal theory of “fairness.” There are, somewhat famously, at least 21 different mathematical definitions of “fairness,” and, correspondingly, a wide range of ways in which a given social setting can be “unfair.” The most mature theories of fairness demand a careful accounting of cause and effect -- a clear representation of what factors influenced which decisions, and why. These causal pathways to fairness are the results of how organizations, often without realizing it, make decisions, or delegate them to digital tools.

Ultimately, the ethics of digital technology opens up in an ethics of institutional design. How organizations convene, include or exclude people in decision-making, enact bureaucratic procedures, and decide to use technologies has implications for ethics and justice. We can hope that, in the future, these principles will be broadly applied, and our more careful self-organization can improve the world.

We all love great service when dining out, but how much are we willing to pay for it? What’s fair to server and guest alike?
These questions are especially vexing when it comes to the way foodservice workers are compensated. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, median annual pay for waitresses and waiters is $31,040, subject to variables such as location, menu, hours worked, and the like. In addition, benefit packages vary. Flex time may be more common than not, but health insurance isn’t a given.

Federal and state laws play a big role in foodservice wages. Most states allow restaurants to pay their waitstaff a sub-minimum wage. Federal law sets the base tipped wage at $2.13 per hour as long as tips raise the total to the standard minimum wage which is currently $7.25 per hour (unchanged since 2009). Many states require a higher base wage while still allowing sub-minimums. And several jurisdictions have minimum wage rates that far exceed federal law, New York City being one at $17 per hour.

Regardless of this patchwork system of compensation, tips in the restaurant business are nearly universal—and complicated. Regardless of where they live, workers need to be compensated fairly and tips are a lifeline. At the same time, how do you argue with someone who says a 20% tip on an $800 meal for two does not require any more service than a $400 meal for the same two people? The $800 table just happened to order more expensive food and wine.

While calculating our tip, it’s good to remember that service at many restaurants—not just the ones with a Michelin-star— is usually the result of intensive and ongoing staff training (“Where did the chef source today’s organic mushrooms?,” the diner wants to know). A knowledgeable staff contributes to the overall dining experience. Then, as food and beverage costs go up with inflation, a tip percentage automatically adjusts. This helps preserve the waitstaff’s purchasing power, and allows the restaurant to continue delivering the expected high level of service with less staff turnover.

Admittedly, there are still structural problems with tipping as we practice it that can’t be overlooked. Tipping benefits workers in high-end restaurants and disadvantages those working in diners. Also, research shows that tipping amounts can be influenced by race and gender and also whether a server is perceived to be attractive or not.

So is percentage-based tipping ethical and fair? The conversation continues. As of this calendar year, eligible foodservice workers can deduct up to $25,000 in qualified, voluntary tips from their federal income tax. Workers who earn their living in diners, luncheonettes, and no-frills coffee shops aren’t complaining. As for me, I’ll stick with 20% and when the tab is modest, I’ll tip generously. Someone’s health insurance may depend on it.

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture.

This isn’t a cosmic conspiracy; it’s a reflection. One of the most profound truths of our existence is that the Universe is a giant photocopying machine—it simply gives us more of whatever we are putting into it. If our mental currency is lacking, the Universe obliges by returning more things for us to worry about going wrong.

The late, great Dr. Wayne Dyer captured this spiritual law perfectly with his famous maxim: “When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” Dyer beautifully reminded us that we are not helpless bystanders in a random world, but active co-creators. He often used the analogy of an orange: when you squeeze an orange, you get orange juice, because that’s what’s inside.

Similarly, when life puts the squeeze on us, whatever thoughts and beliefs we’ve been harboring inside are exactly what will pour out into our physical reality.

Importantly, this cosmic echo isn’t just about wishing for comfort; it is deeply rooted in ethics. The way we project our thoughts is an act of moral responsibility. When we choose to focus on the good, on kindness, and on the welfare of the community around us, we are practicing a form of spiritual integrity. Ethics and mindfulness go hand in hand; by holding ourselves to a higher standard of thought, we ensure that what we are putting out into the world—and consequently what the Universe returns to us—is rooted in decency, compassion, and truth.

I must admit, this has been a profound realization for me. For a long time, my natural instinct was to focus on what was missing—the empty spaces, the losses (my wife, previous relationships, my three dogs), and the other things that were no longer there. It is an easy trap to fall into. But I have undergone a conscious shift. Today, I deliberately choose to focus on what is still here. By anchoring my mind in the blessings, the connections, and the vibrant life that remains right in front of me, I have watched my entire landscape transform. It’s still a work in progress.

The Universe doesn’t respond to what we want; it responds to what we are. When we anchor our minds in gratitude, ethical awareness, and appreciation for the present, our external landscape naturally begins to realign. We stop cataloging our deficits and start celebrating our abundance. By deliberately choosing thoughts that align with peace and integrity, we hand the Universe a brand-new blueprint to build from.

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture.

Putting aside the “bad optics” and poor taste of this spectacle when hundreds of thousands are homeless, and millions are “food insecure,”let’s just focus on Musk, the man.

When he was already the richest person in the world, before the IPO, Mr. Musk gained political power by being appointed to a semi-official position, by President Donald Trump. His first decisions were to cut food and medicine funding for the neediest, not just in Africa and the Third World, but here in the U.S.A. as well. His actions, approved by the Administration, caused suffering and death to countless people, perhaps millions.

One might wonder – what portion of that trillion will buy loaves of bread?

It is painful to consider the health of a society that allows a man so devoid of ethical principles – a man so evil – to be rewarded in the way he has.

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture.

“I consider myself the most powerful figure in the world.”- Idi Amin

“I don’t care if they respect me, so long as they fear me.” - Caligula

“I have built my organization upon fear.” - Al Capone

“I am the Haitian flag. He who is my enemy is the enemy of the fatherland.” - Francois Duvalier

“To sum it all up, I must say that I regret nothing.” - Adolf Eichmann

“It is the absolute right of the State to supervise the formation of public opinion.” - Joseph Goebbels

“Think of the press as a great keyboard on which the government can play.”
- Joseph Goebbels

“You can’t change the masses. They will always be the same: dumb, gluttonous and forgetful.”― Joseph Goebbels

“Humanitarianism is the expression of stupidity and cowardice.” ― Adolf Hitler

“Make the lie big. Make it simple. Keep saying it and eventually people will believe it.” – Adolf Hitler

“I am the object of criticism around the world. But I think that since I am being discussed, then I am on the right track.” – Kim Jong-il

“I believe in nothing.” - Theodore Kaczynski

“Politics is when you say your are going to do one thing while intending to do another. Then you do neither what you said nor what you intended.”- Saddam Hussein

“A lie told often enough becomes the truth.” -Vladimir Lenin

“Let us have a dagger between our teeth, a bomb in our hand, and an infinite scorn in our hearts.” ― Benito Mussolini

“Some of the peoples of Africa have been out of trees for only about 50 years.” ― Richard M. Nixon

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture.

Born to a Portugese-Jewish family in the Netherlands, Spinoza was permanently excommunicated from the Jewish community at the age of 24 for his religious views. He spent the remainder of his life associating with liberal rationalist philosophers – a radical group in a society dominated by Reformed Christians. His Tractatus Theologico-Politicus (1670) argued that the books of the Bible express inconsistent views and so should be seen as the written views of different authors, rather than the revealed and infallible word of God. He challenges the authority of prophets, the mystery of miracles, and the elected status of the Jews, in a systematic manner consistent with a philosophy that sees God as universal and one with Nature. What of the Bible endures such a critical analysis? Its moral teaching: that the greatest good is to love God and one’s neighbor.

Spinoza draws a distinction between philosophy, true religion, and mere superstition. Philosophy is the free exercise of reason that can intellectually comprehend Nature and its laws – the domain of science and ethics. It is exemplified by his posthumously published Ethics, which is structured in the style of a geometric proof describing all of reality, including how to lead a blessed life.

Spinoza recognizes that most people are persuaded by imagination rather than reason. True religion serves where philosophy does not. True religion may employ stories or ideas appealing to the imagination but not literally true, so long as its sole aim is to inspire morality. He endorses, for example, belief in a personal God who forgives the repentant, because it inspires people to persevere in being good. He dismisses as mere superstition any beliefs and behavioral codes that are irrelevant to moral fundamentals as social adaptations to historical conditions that no longer apply.

I find Spinoza’s thinking very illuminating. In many respects he has won the historical argument, and the secular historical perspective is no longer persecuted by the state. When I read the Ethical Humanist writings of David Muzzey — the historian who declared Humanism a “religion for adults” that respects the prophets’ ethical contributions while setting aside the supernatural — I see a continuation of Spinoza’s work.

What I struggle with is the role of imagination in ethics. As an adult, I am committed to rationality. Yet I understand how stories move me — the parable of the Good Samaritan, for instance, remains a powerful teaching tool despite its mythical context. Watching my child fantasize playfully and react passionately to every story, I find myself wondering what stories I should tell him.

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture

The growth of online betting is the direct result of a 2018 Supreme Court decision that struck down the federal ban on sports betting. Up until then, Nevada was the only state where gamblers could wager on single-game sports. Back then, sports gamblers wagered less than $5 billion annually. Last year, according to the American Gaming Association, legal sports betting topped $166 billion.

Today most of these bets are placed on phones. And many bets are placed while games are in progress. Open a betting app and you can wager not just on the final outcome, but on whether a pitch will be a ball or strike, or if your favorite point guard will break his previous scoring record. Betting today is as easy as it gets. You don’t have to go to a stadium or an ATM for cash. You don’t have to get out of bed. All you need is a working cell phone and a hunch.

Most people who use apps are not addicts. And there is always the legitimate fun factor that attracts responsible gamers. Problem is there are vulnerable populations for whom online sports betting is a risk. These are people who exist in a zone somewhere between casual betting and full-blown addiction.

The International Classification of Diseases calls this behavior “hazardous gambling.” Not pathological gambling, but behavior that increases the risk of “harmful physical or mental-health consequences.”

How are advertisers handling this?

Many support recovery programs. And web postings with guidelines for responsible gambling are commonplace. Then… to attract the uninitiated, there are sign-up promos that give you, say, $300 in bonus bets with your $5 opening wager. And the ad campaigns are enticing. Like FanDuel’s commercial featuring the comedian Eric André who follows a man throughout his day urging him to “act on his hunch.” Another FanDuel ad shows a man sitting in a pool, tracking bets on his phone while his family and friends are enjoying each other’s company. The pool scene ends with the tagline: “Cherish every moment.”

Teens and young men are the perfect audience for these messages, especially if they grew up on competitive, reward-based video games—and if they believe they’re just one wager away from becoming a “real winner.”

Right now the stats are flashing red. According to the National Council on Problem Gambling, nearly 1 in 3 adults under 30 routinely participate in sports betting. A national survey found that roughly 33% of 21- to 44-year-olds placed their first sports bet before turning 21.

The looming health crisis doesn’t seem to faze the powerful who evidently—and legally—equate entertainment choices with personal freedom. But countries beyond the U.S. have begun to impose some restrictions (Italy, Spain, Great Britain and Belgium among them), and various countries ban athletes and celebrities from promoting gambling and appearing in live-game ads.

So change is possible. It’s just not clear if the U.S. has the will to deal with this problem. Actually, maybe it is clear.

For those struggling with gambling addiction, help is available from The National Council on Problem Gambling; and the 24/7 national crisis and referral line, 1-800-GAMBLER.

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture.

by Paul Hope

A: I know what’s right, and what’s wrong. If only everybody else agreed with me! Then at last we would have a just world. But for some reason, evil and stupid people are in control. Very well. Let me be the voice of resistance, and the body of sacrifice, that stands for greater principles.

B: This is not a wise course of action, my friend. Your efforts will exhaust and diminish you. You will alienate people who must or are able to compromise with the way things are. Your sacrifices will be in vain, because those who do not sacrifice will be better resourced to pick up what you have given away. And for what? Your own self-righteousness. No, please: attend to the quality of your own character first. The rest of the world is not yours to influence except perhaps through quiet, exemplary behavior.

A: The world is literally on fire. Our rulers are openly corrupt and disgustingly hypocritical. Everything that I’ve held sacred is in the hands of the most cynical sociopaths. Our culture is obscene. I am appalled! And you recommend quietism? Why, you lazy, ineffectual, cowardly ….

B: Please, try to have more patience. The flames of your emotions will burn out and leave nothing but smoke. What good will that do? And… are you sure you even know what’s happening? Your concerns sound extreme, perhaps even unhinged.

A: But we must do something!

B: “We” sounds much more promising than “me”. You have a point there.

A: I’d rather you put the emphasis on doing something.

B: Yes, you are energetic! But what shall be done?

A: We must hold an urgent meeting! We must discuss what is to be done!

B: …

A: Well?!

B: …

A: I don’t hear you! Can’t you see all the problems in the world? Hello? Ethics is calling. Wake up!

B: Sorry, I’m a bit busy over here. There’s a lot going on I have to deal with, just day to day. I don’t have a lot of time for meetings.

A: HOW ARE WE GOING TO GET ANYTHING DONE IF WE DON’T HAVE MEETINGS?!

B: …

B: Could you lend me a hand over here?

A: Are you stopping the fascists from taking over?

B: Not exactly. I’m gardening.

A: What?

B: It’s good exercise. Fresh air. I can do it with the kids playing outside. And then, guess what? Fresh vegetables!

A: I think I’m not getting through to you. What about those in poverty, in need! The people being bombed in their homes! All of us, being robbed by the financial system?

B: Would any of them like fresh vegetables?

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture.

Person A: I know what’s right, and what’s wrong. If only everybody else agreed with me! Then at last we would have a just world. But for some reason, evil and stupid people are in control. Very well. Let me be the voice of resistance, and the body of sacrifice, that stands for greater principles.

Person B: This is not a wise course of action, my friend. Your efforts will exhaust and diminish you. You will alienate people who must or are able to compromise with the way things are. Your sacrifices will be in vain, because those who do not sacrifice will be better resourced to pick up what you have given away. And for what? Your own self-righteousness? No, please attend to the quality of your own character first. The rest of the world is not yours to influence, except perhaps, through quiet, exemplary behavior.

A: The world is literally on fire. Our rulers are openly corrupt and disgustingly hypocritical. Everything that I’ve held sacred is in the hands of the most cynical sociopaths. Our culture is obscene. I am appalled! And you recommend quietism? Why, you lazy, ineffectual, cowardly ….

B: Please! Try to have more patience. The flames of your emotions will burn out and leave nothing but smoke. What good will that do? And -- are you sure you even know what’s happening? Your concerns sound extreme, perhaps even unhinged.

A: But we must do something!

B: “We” sounds much more promising than “me.” You have a point there.

A: I’d rather you put the emphasis on doing something.

B: Well, you are certainly energetic! But what can be done?

A: We must hold an urgent meeting! We must discuss what is to be done!

B: …

A: Well???

B: …

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture

Still, something different, special and unexpected is happening in these years: clarity.

When I was young, life often felt like an endless proving ground. Striving, building, achieving, competing - and worrying constantly about whether I was enough. But somehow these recent decades have brought the understanding that character matters more than image. Kindness matters more than victory. Presence matters more than productivity.

Obviously, there are now fewer years ahead than behind. That realization can either harden a person or strengthen him. Ethically, I think this is one of the great crossroads of aging. Do we become bitter over what was lost, or grateful for what still remains? Do we withdraw from the world, or do we become more intentional about how we show up in it?

And other questions:

Who am I when my career no longer defines me?

What do I owe the people I love?

How do I remain useful?

How do I face limitation without surrendering dignity?

There is an ethical dimension to all of this because aging demands honesty. By this stage of life, most of us know we are imperfect. We have hurt people. We have missed opportunities. We have loved imperfectly. We have failed to say important things when there was still time.

But wisdom is not being flawless. Wisdom is being accountable while remaining compassionate toward ourselves and others.

One of the quiet surprises of later life is that love and connection do not disappear with age. In some ways, they become more meaningful. Friendship becomes sacred. Companionship becomes less about performance and more about acceptance. Being truly seen by another person at this stage of life can feel almost miraculous. There is less interest in games and more appreciation for sincerity.

I also think senior people carry an ethical responsibility to younger generations—not to lecture them endlessly, but to model humanity. To demonstrate resilience without cruelty. To show that vulnerability is not weakness. To admit uncertainty. To tell the truth about grief, joy, loneliness, forgiveness, and endurance.

In my mid-70’s, I no longer believe a good life is measured by status or accumulation. I believe it is measured by how deeply we loved, how honestly we lived, and whether we left the people around us feeling more valued than diminished.

I now understand that ethics is not merely philosophy. It is daily practice. It is patience with someone who is struggling. It is listening instead of waiting to speak. It is allowing yourself to remain open-hearted after loss. It is continuing to seek meaning even when life becomes uncertain.

And perhaps that is the real gift of growing older: not certainty, but perspective.

You begin to see that a meaningful life was never about staying young.

It was about staying human.

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture.

The conversation usually goes something like this:

Person of interest: Oh, you can get that on Amazon. And with Prime you never pay for shipping!”

Me: I don’t shop Amazon.

Person of interest: Really? (confused look) Why not? It’s so easy and you save money.

Me: I know. But I’d rather not.

It’s not that I’m clueless about causes that normal people call futile as in “You can’t win so why bother?” I tend to specialize in such causes.

There are many reasons why I’m not an Amazon member. One is the takeover of the Washington Post’s editorial page by the Post’s publisher and sole owner, Jeff Bezos. Who also happens to own Amazon.

In 2024, a highly consequential presidential-election year, Bezos declared that The Post would not endorse a candidate. What’s more, editorial page writers were only to address issues related to “personal liberties and free markets.” The diversity of viewpoints that was once the hallmark of The Post no longer had a home. As a result, readers cancelled their subscriptions, opinion writers left, and subject matter flattened out—in favor of laissez-faire capitalism.

This is a smattering of the Post’s recent editorial positions:

Against: Minimum wage increases

Against: Caps on credit-card interest rates

Against: Proposals for a wealth tax

FOR: the privatization of air-traffic controllers

FOR: the de-unionization of the Department of Veteran Affairs

FOR: the building of A-I data centers

Could the Post’s aggressive support for AI data centers, despite much local opposition, be linked to Bezos’ launch of an AI start-up? Or the fact that he has invested in several AI companies whose success at least in part depends on the construction of new data centers? Inquiring minds want to know.

There are other ethical concerns worth thinking about. Amazon—which holds large government contracts—is one of several megadonors to the Trump Administration’s building of a gilded ballroom in what will be the White House’s new East Wing. Why is Amazon anxious to associate itself with this “opportunity?” Regulatory influence over charges of monopolistic practice might be a good thing to have.

I do understand: Amazon is a major employer. Amazon makes life easier for a lot of people, although not for the environment (think about those trucks clogging our streets; and where does all that packaging go anyway?). Besides that, I use Apple and Microsoft products, two companies with the appearance of pay-to-play relationships of their own.

For what it’s worth, I light a tiny candle in a world that’s complicated and full of ethical contradictions, including the ones I myself commit. There is one antidote: For as long as our vote counts, we can support candidates and electeds who are at least trying to work for the common good, especially for those whose voice can’t be heard above the din. Nothing beats trying. Even if everyone else says, “Why bother?”

Full disclosure: The Westchester Community for Ethical Culture, sponsor of this Substack post, occasionally shops Amazon.

There is a particular kind of love we are rarely taught how to grieve.

It arrives quietly, without ceremony, and then, over time, it becomes part of the structure of our days. The soft rhythm of paws on the floor. The expectant glance at mealtime. The steady presence beside us when the world feels uncertain. An animal companion does not ask for much, yet gives in a way that feels limitless.

And then, one day, we are asked to let them go.

Those of us who have walked this path more than once know that grief does not become easier with experience. If anything, it deepens. Each goodbye carries not only its own weight, but echoes of the others that came before it.

My dogs: Emma. Annie. Frankie. Different lives, different personalities, different moments shared—but bound together by the same quiet devotion, and by the same torturous decisions I eventually had to face.

Euthanasia is an act that sits at the intersection of love and responsibility. It asks something profound of us: to place their comfort above our longing to keep them here. To recognize suffering, even when they cannot fully express it. To decide, with imperfect certainty, when the balance has shifted from living to enduring.

There is an ethical clarity in that moment, even as there is emotional turmoil. We often speak about “doing the right thing” as though it will feel correct. But anyone who has held a beloved animal in their final moments knows that ethical action does not always bring peace—at least not immediately. It can feel like betrayal. It can feel like giving up. It can feel like we are choosing an ending we desperately wish to postpone.

And yet, when we look more closely, we see something else. We see the years of care that came before that moment. The walks taken even when we were tired. The vet visits, the medications, the adjustments we made to keep them comfortable as their bodies began to fail. We see the way they trusted us completely, not just in their healthiest days, but in their most vulnerable ones.

In the end, euthanasia is not a single decision. It is the final expression of a long relationship built on trust.

For me, grief, in this context, was not just sadness. It was disorientation. The house felt different. The routines dissolved. The silence where there was once presence was palpable. I found myself listening for sounds that no longer came, or reaching for habits that no longer had a place.

And then there was the quiet questioning:
Did I wait too long? Did I act too soon? Did they know how much I loved them?

I know these questions are natural, but they were unanswerable in the way I wished. Ethics, especially in matters of care, rarely offers perfect certainty. Instead, it asks for attentiveness, compassion, and humility. It asks us to act with the best understanding we have, guided by love rather than fear.

If we can return to that truth, something begins to soften.

Because whatever doubts linger, one fact remains unshaken: they were not alone. Not in life, and not at the end.

There is a quiet dignity in that. Over time, my grief has changed shape. It did not disappear, nor should it. To lose an animal companion is to lose a relationship that was steady, forgiving, and often uncomplicated in a way human relationships are not. That absence leaves a mark.

But alongside the grief, something else has gradually emerged: Gratitude.

Not the kind that replaces sorrow, but the kind that exists beside it. Gratitude for the ordinary days that, in retrospect, were never ordinary at all. For the companionship that asked nothing and gave everything. For the trust placed in me—not just to care for them, but to make the hardest decision when the time came.

If there is an ethical lesson here, it may be this:

Love is not measured by how long we hold on, but by how well we care—and, when necessary, how gently we let go.

And perhaps, in honoring that responsibility, we honor them in the fullest way we can.

This Ethical Times post is presented by the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture.

The question: What is Ethics?

Tommy: “Telling the truth.”

John: “Not cheating when you’re playing games with other kids. Or your Dad.”

Sue: Sharing.

Mike: Doing your job at home, like feeding the dog on time.

Billy: Thinking. I mean, sorting out what’s right from what’s wrong, then picking the right thing. Even when that might not be what you thought of in the first place. Ya know what I mean?

Duke: Leaving enough for everybody to get some. Like, French fries.

Kathy: It’s like what’s in the Bible: Do unto others what ye would have done to you.

Melody: I want to be a Cantor when I grow up. So I’ve started to do ethics already: To be fair, and loving, and get good grades – and to sing the best I can.

Lance: To listen to what everyone has to say.

Josh: To try to be like some of the great people who ever lived. Like Ghandi. And Desmond Tutu. And Babe Ruth.

In this philosophy, idol worship is viewed as a sin for two reasons: You are placing supreme value on something that does not deserve it, and in so doing you are ignoring or rejecting the Supreme Value. There is also the concept in Judaism that you should not make an idol of even the Torah itself.

But today, a majority of American Jews – and many, or most of their well-meaning neighbors of other faiths – have made such an idol of the State of Israel that they support and defend its actions even as it commits ethnic cleansing and genocide in Gaza, and promotes horrific violence against Palestinians in the West Bank. That support now extends to wars in Iran and Lebanon.

Establishment Jewish organizations and most Jewish congregations “Stand With Israel” to the exclusion of all other Jewish values. Israel has become their One Supreme Value – a false monotheism. They have forgotten ethical.

The renowned Rabbi Hillel famously said, “If I am not for me, who will be for me? But if I am for myself only, what am I?”

Yes, Israeli Jews deserve to live in peace and freedom, without the threat of violence. But so do Palestinians. They, too, deserve democracy, dignity and freedom rather than living under a brutal apartheid occupation.

Some form of peaceful co-existence guaranteeing the rights of both peoples – whether two-state, a bi-national state, a confederation, or some other entity – is what the United States of America should be using all of its power to promote, rather than giving a blank check to Israeli militarism.

It is also what you and I should be telling our senators, congressional representatives, and the White House.

Rabbi Hillel also said, “If not now, when?”

This Ethical Times post is presented by – but does not necessarily reflect the unanimous opinion of – the Westchester Community for Ethical Culture.