2024-02-23T19:20:03-05:00

Nathaniel Lamansky has written a thought-provoking article for the Catholic publication Crisis Magazine entitled Adopting a Medieval-Peasant Mindset.

So often we get bent out of shape because of what we learn about in the news.  Today we have access to depressing news from around the world.  We can’t do anything about what happened, so we get angry and frustrated and unhappy.

Medieval peasants, on the other hand, knew little about what was happening beyond their own little community.  Their concern was focused there.  And often they could do something about those local problems.

Lamansky recommends that we adopt more of the mindset of the peasant:

When tempted to unrighteous anger at what is beyond our control, we should follow the example of some saintly and joyful medieval peasant. He has little practical use for such trivialities as global news because his priorities are organized in importance from the local to the distant. After all, the harvest must be brought in, the Church roof is in need of mending, and Christmas festivities are right around the corner. Why fret over what is outside one’s own humble slice of this earth?

We should tone down our obsession with the news, with what is happening in Washington or Ukraine, and focus on our own lives and our own circles of relationships.

There is a measure of wisdom here.  Some of us probably do get fixated on the news–and politics, and solving the world’s problems–more than is healthy for us.  We should sometimes take a break from that–or a fast–and relax a bit.  And channel our zeal onto our “own humble slice of this earth.”

I worry, though, that adopting the medieval peasant  mindset will encourage our leaders to adopt the medieval nobility mindset.

Yes, the medieval peasant didn’t have to worry about his government, its foreign policy, or the quality of its decisions.  He had no say in such matters at all.  There was no being liberal or conservative.  He didn’t have a political ideology.  He let his masters take care of the complicated business of governing.  He didn’t have to.

I can see the attraction of that.  Lifting the responsibility of self-government from our shoulders would take away a great deal of stress.

And yet, the image of the happy, carefree peasant is surely romanticized.  Actual peasants did all of the back-breaking work while their masters–not them–enjoyed the fruits of their labor.  When the kings bungled the economy, they were the ones who starved to death.  When the king launched a war to defend his honor, the peasants were the ones who died, if not as cannon fodder as the victims of marauding armies, who “lived off the land,” often by plundering their own countrymen.  Peasants were brutally used and abused.

We have blogged a great deal about “integralism,” the Roman Catholic neo-medieval political theory that rejects “liberalism”–that is, democracy, free markets, and individual rights–in favor of a Christian empire under the authority of the Pope.  Most discussions of integralism focus on issues of ruling.  I don’t know if Lamansky favors integralism, but he does us a service in reminding us of the perspective of the ruled.

In the Middle Ages, there were three Estates:  the nobility (those who ruled); the commons (those who worked); and the church (those who prayed).  The nobles supplied the political authority, the commons supplied the labor, and the church supplied the religion.  These were three distinct classes.  A person was a member of one Estate or the other.  Theoretically, they all worked together for the common good, but in practice they comprised separate subcultures.

Luther countered this perspective with a brilliant and revolutionary innovation.  There are indeed three estates, which God Himself established for human flourishing.  They are the household (that is, the family and its economy), the church, and the state.  But for Luther, everyone inhabits every estate!  Everyone is a member of a family and everyone works to sustain it.  Every baptized Christian is an equal member of the church.  And everyone is a citizen of the state.

Furthermore, we all have multiple vocations in each of these estates.  As a husband or wife, father or mother, son or daughter; as an employer or employee in the vast division of labor; as a pastor, layperson, or other church worker; as a ruler or citizen.

As a result, we all work.  We all pray.  And–in a corollary that took some time to become a reality–we all rule.

 

Illustration:  Painting by Peter Brueghel (1614) via Picryl, Public Domain

 

 

2024-02-19T07:44:56-05:00

So if both Integralism and Christian Nationalism are wrong, what is the Christian conservative to do?

Those are the two Christian political theories out there today.   They are related–Integralism mostly for the Catholics and Christian Nationalism mostly for the Protestants–and can motivate Christian political activists to address the horrendous dysfunctions of our society.

If those two approaches are theologically deficient, should Christians just give up on politics?  That’s what some are advocating.  Stop agitating, stop supporting candidates, stop voting.  Let the secular world degenerate while the church forms its own subculture and waits for Christ’s return.

Well, there is another alternative:  the political theory that Christian conservatives used to have.

Mark Tooley reminds us of that in his Law & Liberty article A Christian Nation?  He is responding to Senator Josh Hawley’s article in First Things entitled A Christian Nation.  (I just found out that, as a new Missouri resident living in the congressional district that I do, I am being represented by both Hawley as my senator and hard left squad member Cori Bush as my congressional representative!  It’s almost enough to turn me too against liberal democracy!)  Hawley is articulating a very mild version of Integralism and Christian Nationalism, one which retains Constitutional government and draws back from an established church, while agreeing with those ideologies that position that the government should advance “the good” and work to bring back a Christian culture.  Tooley responds (my bolds):

There is much that is laudable in Hawley’s diagnosis if not so much in his prescription. Much of America’s public life is shifting away from biblical transcendence towards either rabid secularism or stridently “woke” utopian fantasies with religious zeal while denying religion’s power. Unmentioned by Hawley is a growing post-Christian right that is indifferent to Christian doctrines and ethics but exploits Christianity as a tribal identity against leftist enemies. He is unfair about earlier versions of politics from a traditional Christian perspective that supposedly focused on culture while ignoring economics.

The 1980s and 1990s Religious Right was deeply influenced by Presbyterian cultural critic Francis Schaeffer, Baptist theologian Carl Henry, Catholic philosopher Michael Novak, and Lutheran/Catholic editor and writer Richard Neuhaus. They advocated a synthesis of traditional morality, democratic constitutionalism, and free market economics as the preferred alternative to planned economies. Their ideas are out of fashion in our time, but they were also out of fashion when first proposed. Hawley dismisses their perspective without contending with it. He implies they left economics outside their spiritual concern. But they advocated for private enterprise not just as more productive than statism, but as better exemplifying God-given human creativity.

To be sure, this approach to Christian activism has a much more modest political vision than that of the Integralists and the Nationalists, with a more modest expectation of what government should do.  It attacks manifest evils in the government, such as legalized abortion.  And it preserves the liberty of the church–an institution hardly mentioned by Hawley–so that Christians can be salt and light in the culture, rather than overlords.

“But this approach has failed!” say the illiberal critics.  It overturned Roe v. Wade.

“But it didn’t prevent gay marriage!”  The divinized all-powerful, omnipresent state created gay marriage.  A limited government would never presume to do so.  The divinized state has also imposed its woke theology on schools, public policy, businesses, and the law.  A properly limited government would never do that.

It is as if the Christian big-government conservatives want to keep the divinized state, but change the divinity.  Instead of the state itself being the supreme authority over all of life, they want the true God to exercise His rightful authority over the state and to use the state as His instrument to create a godly nation.  God does exercise His authority by means of political vocations to restrain external evil, but that is not enough to make anyone, much less a nation, godly.  For that we need the church, but not the church as a political institution designed to enforce the Law, as with the Roman Catholic hierarchy that the Integralists want to invest with temporal power.  We need a church that proclaims the Gospel of salvation through the forgiveness of sins in the Cross of Jesus Christ.

Sen. Hawley concludes his article by saying,

America has been a Christian nation. We can be again—if Christians will recover again their confidence that the gospel of Jesus Christ speaks to every facet of our common life. For the future of the nation, and the honor of the gospel, we must.

Yes, the gospel of Jesus Christ speaks to every facet of our common life, but it does so by bringing grace and forgiveness, since every facet of our common life is stained with sin.  The Senator is speaking of the gospel as some sort of law.  Catholics often do that, and now I am hearing the same from Protestant evangelicals.  God’s law does speak to every facet of our common life.  The state is restricted to the First Use of the Law, concerned with curbing external sinful behavior.  That is critically important, though it can never make anyone righteous.

But the state should not “speak to every facet of our common life.”  The state has its sphere, and, properly, it is a relatively small one.  Our common life includes the family, our participation in the economy, our social networks, the church, and all of our other vocations.  The state should stay out of “every facet of our common life” and, as much as possible, leave us alone.

UPDATE:  If you are all for limited government, the critics say, how can you oppose abortion and wage all of your other culture war issues?  The issue is what government is limited to.  The primary purpose of government, rightly considered, is to protect its citizens.  Thus, operating an effective criminal justice system–as opposed to defunding the police–and building a strong military are legitimate functions of a limited government.

Limited government Christian conservatives oppose legalized abortion because the government is supposed to protect the lives of children in the womb.  On the same principle, limited government Christian conservatives are right to fight against mutilative transgender surgery, pornography, threats to the family, etc.

 

Photo by Gage Skidmore via Flickr, CC by-SA 2.0

 

2024-01-12T19:10:28-05:00

Carl Trueman is a Reformed theologian who has become one of our best cultural critics.  I cite him quite a bit at this blog.

He was a speaker at a Doxology event (a Lutheran organization that helps pastors in the realm of spiritual care) and tells about it in First Things.  He said that a pastor asked him what he thought confessional Lutheranism could offer the universal church today.

In his article Lessons from the Lutheran Tradition in 2024, Trueman first says that there is a common ethos between the various kinds of “confessional Protestants” that sets them off today from both Catholics, in turmoil over the pope, and evangelicals, torn over our political malaise.  And that “confessional Protestants,” whether Lutheran or Calvinist or Anglican, can bring a perspective that all Christians need:

First, confessional Protestantism in general, when faithful to its defining documents, focuses the minds of believers upon the great truths of the Christian faith that take no account of the vicissitudes of the age. God, Trinity, Fall, Incarnation, redemption, and grace: These are truths that feed the mind and the soul, regardless of which side wins and which side loses elections. And they are the central concerns of the great confessional documents of Protestantism. Whether the Book of Concord for Lutherans; the Westminster Standards for Presbyterians; the Three Forms of Unity for the Reformed; or the Thirty-Nine Articles, the Book of Common Prayer, and the Homilies for Anglicans—all speak of the eternal weight of glory that is to come and thereby relativize the slings and arrows of this world as so many light, momentary afflictions. The implications of this are liturgical: The church goes about its ordinary work of proclaiming Christ in Word and Sacrament even as earthly regimes come and go. Thus it was in the time of Nero. So it is today.

Lutheranism specifically can offer two important confessional insights that would benefit all church bodies today.

First, the Lutheran distinction (echoing Augustine), between the heavenly kingdom and the earthly kingdom. This distinction is vital, especially in a time of deep political division and seductive political temptation. . . .

The Lutheran tradition, properly understood, offers a way of understanding both the importance of the role of the civil magistrate but also his limited significance for the things that really matter, those things that pertain to eternity. In a year where the usual Christian suspects on both sides of the political divide will likely be investing American partisan politics with eschatological significance, there is a need for a healthy dose of the modesty that Lutheran thinking on the earthly kingdom encourages.

Second is Luther’s Theology of the Cross:

Finally, confessional Lutheranism can offer today’s church a powerful understanding of the suffering of the church. Luther famously argued that the true theologian should be a theologian of the cross, placing the Incarnation at the center of revelation. God reveals himself under opposites. His glory is hidden in flesh, his power in the weakness of the cross, his triumph over death in the apparent triumph of death over Christ. The theologian too should expect this in his life: The faithful Christian finds his strength in weakness. And in his 1539 treatise, On the Councils of the Church, Luther calls possession of the cross one of the seven marks of the true church. The true church will be marked by outward weakness, will be despised by the world, and will suffer as she eschews the world’s methods for gaining power and influence.

Contrast the Lutheran theology of suffering with the prevailing fear of suffering that we blogged about yesterday!

I would add one more pervasive problem of our time, including our churches, that Lutheranism can help address:  The current rejection of objective, physical reality.

Postmodernists believe truth is relative and ultimately unknowable, with critical theorists insisting that truth claims are nothing more than impositions of oppressive power, while others believe that we create our own reality by the power of our minds.  Modernists, such as scientists, do believe in physical reality, but assume that it is dead and inert, with any kind of meaning existing only in the human mind.  This is all a version of the heresy of Gnosticism, which many Christians today are embracing, focusing on “the God within” or “me and Jesus,” and cultivating what is “spiritual” as a purely interior experience.

Confessional Lutheranism, though, believes that God works objectively through physical means:  the water of Baptism, the bread and wine of Holy Communion, and the language of His Word.  Not only that, the Lutheran emphasis on Creation, Incarnation, Christ’s presence in His Supper, and its understanding of human life, as expressed in the doctrine of vocation, all contribute to a Christian view of “reality” that is sorely needed today.

 

Illustration:  Luther Rose by Bickra01, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons  [See this for the symbolism.]

2023-12-26T14:09:08-05:00

Today is Boxing Day, as it is known in the UK and its Commonwealth, also known in Catholic and Lutheran countries as  St. Stephen’s Day, the Second Day of Christmas.  (Pause for a moment to reflect on the fact that the day after the Christ child is born, we honor the first martyr to die for his faith in Him.)

Various reasons have been put forth on the meaning of the term “Boxing Day.”  Some say it is called that because the “poor boxes” in churches put there for offerings were opened on the day after Christmas and the money given to the poor.  Another account is that the day after Christmas was when British servants were given a day off to spend with their families, and the custom was for employers to send them off with a box containing presents, a monetary gift, and leftovers.  This morphed into a more general custom of giving tradesmen, vendors, and service workers (as in our garbage collectors and newspaper deliverers) a seasonal tip called a “Christmas box.”

Today, Boxing Day is mainly observed by shopping at “Boxing Day Sales” and by watching the Cricket.  But some people, I am told, use the day to box up their Christmas decorations (as opposed to the more traditional practice of leaving them up for the Twelve Days of the season, ending on Epiphany, January 6).

So I have finally segued into my topic:  Nativity Scenes.  It turns out 2023 is the 800th Anniversary of the Nativity Scene.  And thereon hangs a tale. . . .

In 1223, St. Francis of Assisi saw a cave in the region of the Italian village of Greccio that made him think of the stable in Bethlehem.  He put a manger in it, added hay, and borrowed an ox and a donkey.  He then invited other friars and the villagers to the site, where they sang and worshiped.  This had a strong effect.  Let’s let St. Bonaventure tell about it from his Life of St. Francis (X.6):

Now three years before his death it befell that he was minded, at the town of Greccio, to celebrate the memory of the Birth of the Child Jesus, with all the added solemnity that he might, for the kindling of devotion. That this might not seem an innovation, he sought and obtained license from the Supreme Pontiff, and then made ready a manger, and bade hay, together with an ox and an ass, be brought unto the spot. The Brethren were called together, the folk assembled, the wood echoed with their voices, and that august night was made radiant and solemn with many bright lights, and with tuneful and sonorous praises. The man of God, filled with tender love, stood before the manger, bathed m tears, and overflowing with joy. Solemn Masses were celebrated over the manger, Francis, the Levite of Christ, chanting the Holy Gospel. Then he preached unto the folk standing round of the Birth of the King in poverty, calling Him, when he wished to name Him, the Child of Bethlehem, by reason of his tender love for Him.

It’s interesting that St. Francis was worried about committing an “innovation,” so he first asked permission from the Pope.  Would that far less genuinely creative clerics who are trying to come up with innovations in worship had his caution!  It is also interesting that the festivities were accompanied “with many bright lights.”  Maybe 2023 is also the 800th anniversary of Christmas lights.

And thus the Nativity Scene was born.  Sort of.  Not exactly.  It was born again, we might say, and the second time with a Lutheran connection.

The manger in the cave with animals was not a set of figurines with Mary, Joseph, the Baby, Angels, Shepherds, and the Wise Men.  Nor was it a “Living Nativity Scene,”  since it had no human actors.

Today’s artistic rendition derives from the Jesuits, with the first recorded example being from Prague in 1562.  The Jesuits, whose signature approach to meditation involved vividly imagining scenes from Scripture, were the vanguard of the Counter Reformation, charged with rebuilding Catholic piety in response to the challenges of the Reformation.  (Catholics never give Luther enough credit.  If it weren’t for the Reformation, there would never have been a Counter Reformation, which is the source of many Catholic customs much prized today.)

An article on the history of the Nativity Scene quotes a scholar who believes that the depictions of not just the Virgin and Child, as in most medieval iconography, but the entire Holy Family, was a response to–and an underhanded acknowledgment of–Luther’s focus on marriage and the family vocations:

Fr. Tom Worcester, a Jesuit and history professor at Fordham University, points out that this was the period of the Protestant Reformation, saying, “I think what helped to bring it about was that the Protestants rejected celibacy and their clergy married. There was emphasis on the goodness of marriage. Part of the Catholic response was to say, ‘We too are in favor of the family. The Holy Family is our model, Mary, Jesus and Joseph.’ Well, it had not been before. In the Middle Ages the images were Madonna and Child, with Joseph rarely shown.”

This is context for Lucas Cranach’s many paintings of the Holy Family, not just the nativity of Jesus but other scenes from the family’s life, depicted with both reverence and earthy realism.
NOTE:  More problems with the commenting software!  We’re working on it!
UPDATE:  It’s working now.  Thanks to the Patheos folks who gave of their day off to help us with this.
Image by Petra from Pixabay
2023-11-24T17:37:09-05:00

Elon Musk has been warning about the dangers of Artificial Intelligence, including the fear that it would attain consciousness, take over the world, and maybe even destroy human beings as parasites.  But lately the richest man in the world has been more optimistic, even utopian, about what Artificial Intelligence, plus the robotic he is working on, might mean.

The Wall Street Journal (behind a paywall) has published an article by Tim Higgins entitled “What Elon Musk’s ‘Age of Abundance’ Means for the Future of Capitalism,”  with the explanatory deck, “The world’s richest man and others are describing a world with little work.”

Here is some of what Musk is saying, from the article:

“Digital super intelligence combined with robotics will essentially make goods and services close to free in the long term.”

“I wouldn’t worry about…putting people out of a job,” Musk said last year during a TED talk presentation. “We’re actually going to have—and already do have—a massive shortage of labor. So, I think we will have not people out of work but actually still a shortage of labor—even in the future.”

Instead, Musk predicts robots will be taking jobs that are uncomfortable, dangerous or tedious.

“It’s fun to cook food but it’s not that fun to wash the dishes,” Musk said this month. “The computer is perfectly happy to wash the dishes.”

Higgins quotes tech investor Vinod Khosla, who says that within 10 years, AI will be able to perform “80% of 80%” of all jobs.

“I believe the need to work in society will disappear in 25 years for those countries that adapt these technologies,” Khosla said. “I do think there’s room for universal basic income assuring a minimum standard and people will be able to work on the things they want to work on.”

Musk goes further:

Forget universal basic income. In Musk’s world, he foresees something more lush, where most things will be abundant except unique pieces of art and real estate.

“We won’t have universal basic income, we’ll have universal high income,” Musk said this month. “In some sense, it’ll be somewhat of a leveler or an equalizer because, really, I think everyone will have access to this magic genie.”

What would this mean for the economy?  Economic laws have traditionally been predicated on the scarcity of goods, along with their production, distribution, and the means of exchange.  What if goods are no longer scarce, due to robots producing them in such quantities that they can be distributed to whoever wants them, with no means of exchange necessary?

I’m not sure how that would work.  It would seem that the raw materials for whatever the robots produced would still be subject to scarcity.  Robots might account for labor, but there is more to an economy than that.  And surely someone would have to design, program, and input instructions for the robots.  And what would be the incentive to improve products and develop new ones?  This would seem to be a formula for economic stagnation.

But, more importantly, what would this mean for vocation?  What would we do with ourselves if we didn’t have to work?  Spend our time being creative, Musk says, but would we?  Would we compete to acquire what Musk says will still be in limited supply, art and real estate?  But how could we acquire them if we don’t need to work or earn an income?  We could presumably spend our time getting educated in all kinds of wonderful spheres, but would we bother without being driven by preparing for a career?

Of course, we have more vocations than just the way we earn a living.  Not having to bother with that could presumably free us up to spend more time on our other vocations in the family, the community, and the church.

But AI and robotics could also make the vocations of the family obsolete.  Some futurists are predicting the development and implementation of the artificial womb.  Women could be liberated from the pains of childbirth.  And, as marriage and parenthood rates are declining anyway, would we even need the family, if technology can use in vitro fertilization and artificial wombs to manufacture babies and provide robot babies to take care of them and educate them?  We could turn out as many children as we need–but how many would we need if they aren’t needed as workers or loved by a mother and father?

As for the civil vocations, what would be the role of citizens when their every want and need is met by technology.  I suppose the government would orchestrate it all, so there would be slots for rulers, but we would need very few.

I’m not sure what this might mean for our vocations in the church.  Will there be debates over whether pastors need to be human?  Or might we program artificially intelligent robots to preach, lead worship, and give us pastoral care?  Will we even assemble together any more, or will we simply meet online or put on helmets that will take us to a church that exists only in virtual reality?

Now I’m skeptical about all of this.  But I am getting ready to embark, with the help of someone who knows more about the tech side than I do, on a study of how technology impacts vocation, as well as how vocation impacts technology.

In the meantime, I’d appreciate hearing what you think about the subject.

(Note:  The illustration with this post was generated by Artificial Intelligence.  Such images often contain creepy errors.  Look at the human woman’s arm and hands.  None of our machines work perfectly or can function without human input, which gives me hope that technology will not make us obsolete.)

AI-Generated Illustration:  “Humanoid robot and a woman retrieve information from a laptop. The picture was AI generated from the ‘author’/uploader with granted rights. The picture comprises errors – the second fore arm and hand of the woman are unhuman artifacts.” By Polimorph, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

2023-11-13T07:35:59-05:00

 

Veterans Day was on Saturday, November 11, but it is being “observed” today.  So we salute all those who have served–or are serving still–in the military vocations!  (On Friday, we will observe those vocations again.)  For today. . .

World population tops 8 billion, but not because of births; why the wealth tax won’t work; and de-banking “so that no one can buy or sell.”

World Population Tops 8 Billion, but Not Because of Births

The population of the world has now passed 8 billion people, according to U.S. Census Bureau calculations.  Not because more children are being born, but because people are living so much longer.
Nearly three-quarters of those 8 billion people live in countries with fertility rates below replacement level.
So despite the record number of people on the planet, we are still facing not a population explosion but a population implosion.
Just to put the world’s population in perspective, India has the most people (recently passing China) with 1.428 billion, which comes to 17.76% of the planet’s total.  China is second, with 1.425 billion, 17.72% of the total.
Did you realize that the United States of America is the third most populous nation, at 340 million, which comprises just 4.3% of the world’s total?
Numbers 4 and 5 are the two huge Islamic nations of Indonesia, with 277.5 million (3.45%), and Pakistan, with 240.5 million (2.99%).
Rounding out the top 10 are #6 Nigeria with 223.8 million (2.78%), #7 Brazil with 216.4 million (2.69%), #8 Bangladesh with 172.9 million (2.15%), #9 Russia with 144.4 million (1.8%), and #10 Mexico with 128.4 million (1.6%).
For the rest of the list of the world’s nations by population, go here.  The smallest, by the way, is “the Holy See”–that is, the Vatican, which somehow has the status of a nation–with 518.

Why the Wealth Tax Won’t Work

A wealth tax is an idea being promoted in progressive circles as a way to “soak the rich.”  Instead of just taxing incomes, a wealth tax would calculate the market value of people’s total assets and impose a tax on them year after year.

A number of countries have imposed wealth taxes, though most of those have subsequently dropped them.  They have never been tried in the U.S., where they would seem to be unconstitutional, constituting a “direct tax” in violation of Section I, Section 9, clause 4.  But some argue that states, if not the national government, would be free to impose them.

So Washington state is considering imposing a wealth tax, which would be projected to bring in $3.2 billion a year.  That’s not necessarily the reason, but the state’s richest resident, Amazon’s Jeff Bezos has just moved to low-tax Florida.  The third richest man in the world, Bezos is a political progressive, but a wealth tax would cost him $1.44 billion a year.  That’s 45% of what the state was planning to collect!

See Dan McLaughlin, Bezos Leaving Washington State for Low-Tax Florida and Dominic Pino, When Your New Tax Depends on One Taxpayer.

In addition to the legal and logistical problems, a wealth tax won’t work because it violates two principles:  (1) The maxim that if you want less of something, tax it, and if you want more of something, don’t tax it.  If you want more wealth in your state, don’t drive out the wealthy, who can afford to live anywhere they want.  (2) Aesop’s moral about killing the golden goose.

De-Banking “So That No One Can Buy or Sell”

I came across an article on a phenomenon I have only recently heard of:  de-banking.  A bank suddenly and without warning or explanation cancels a customer’s account.

See Why Banks Are Suddenly Closing Down Customer Accounts.  The story, originally in the New York Times but available at the link, tells about people trying to use a credit or debit card, only to find it rejected.  After a frantic call, they are told, “Per your account agreement, we can close your account for any reason at any time.”  The people this happens to aren’t told why and there is nothing they can do about it.  Says the article,

This isn’t your standard boot for people who have bounced too many checks. Instead, a vast security apparatus has kicked into gear, starting with regulators in Washington and trickling down to bank security managers and branch staff eyeballing customers. The goal is to crack down on fraud, terrorism, money laundering, human trafficking and other crimes.

In the process, banks are evicting what appear to be an increasing number of individuals, families and small-business owners. Often, they don’t have the faintest idea why their banks turned against them.

What seems to trigger this are large cash deposits or withdrawals, international wires to or from certain countries, or other transactions that algorithms find suspicious.

From the people interviewed in the story, though, some of them were guilty of no wrong doing.  A bad credit report will give reasons, which can be appealed and cleared up when there is a mistake.  Apparently, banks don’t have to give any information about the reason for their action.  (When an account is canceled, do the owners of the account get back the money they had in it?  The story doesn’t say.  Does anybody know?)

I’m worried about the “other crimes” referenced in the above quote.  First, this would seem like a case of punishing a crime without having been found guilty in a court of law.  If the bankers see evidence of illegal behavior, shouldn’t they notify the police, rather than presuming to impose a penalty themselves?

Second, I can see how the catch-all of “other crimes” could be expanded in all kinds of troubling ways.  Politically incorrect transgressions such as alleged “hate speech” that consists of disapproving of homosexuality is already criminalized in some jurisdictions.  But they wouldn’t have to be actual crimes, since losing your bank account is a sanction outside of the legal system.  If “we can close your account for any reason at any time,” the woke capitalists at your bank can punish anyone they wish.  And if you are unable to access your money or use your credit card, you are, in effect, erased from society.

De-banking seems tailor made for social control and religious persecution.  In fact, as we blogged about, missionary Andrew Brunson, who spent two years in a Turkish prison, said that he had been de-banked, as was former Kansas governor Sam Brownback, now involved in an international religious freedom initiative.  Perhaps this was because of international transactions with Muslim groups that a algorithm deemed suspicious rather than anti-religious persecution.

You don’t have to be a millennialist to be reminded of the Second Beast (the false prophet?) who requires both the rich and the poor to be marked, “so that no one can buy or sell unless he has the mark, that is, the name of the beast or the number of its name” (Revelation 13:17).  I had always assumed that this is symbolic, but now preventing people from buying and selling is technologically possible.

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