Month: July 2025

Being a philosopher and single once again, I have been overthinking the whole dating thing. The original version of this essay was written in 2016 after the amicable end of a long-term, long-distance relationship. This rewrite is being done in 2025 after then end of a long-term, long-distance relationship in 2024.

 Back in 2016 a random interaction back when I was 50 provided me with something new, or rather old, to think about: age and dating. In this scenario I was talking with a woman and had no intention of making any overtures or moves (smooth or otherwise). With some storytelling license in play, we join the story in progress:

 

Her: Flirt. Flirt. Flirt.

Her: “So, what do you do for work?” Flirt.

Me: “I’m a philosophy professor.”

Her: “At FSU?” Flirt.

Me: “No, literally across the tracks at FAMU.”

Her: “When did you start?” Flirt.

Me: “1993.”

Her: “1993…how old are you?”

Me: “Fifty.”

 

At this point, she dropped out of flirt mode so hard that it damaged the space-time continuum. Windows cracked. Tiny fires erupted in her hair. Car alarms went off. Pokémon died. Squirrels were driven mad and fled in terror, crying out to their dark rodent gods for salvation. Here is how the conversation ended:

 

Her: “Um, I bet my mother would like you. Oh, look at the time…I have to go now.”

Me: “Bye.”

 

While some might have found this experience ego-damaging, my friends know I have an adamantine ego.  What I took away was that I looked much younger than fifty, probably due to all that running. But what struck me most about this episode is that the radical change in her behavior was due entirely to her learning my age.  As my friend Julie commented, I had “instantly gone from sexable to invisible.” She must have incorrectly estimated that I was younger than fifty. Perhaps she had forgotten to put in her contacts. So, on to the matter of age and dating.

While some might claim that age is just a number, that is not true. Age is more than that. At the very least, it is a major factor in how people select or reject potential dates. On the face of it, the use of age as a judging factor should be seen as reasonable. The reason is, of course, that dating is largely a matter of attraction and this is strongly influenced by preferences. One person might desire the feeble hug of a needy nerd, while another might crave the crushing embrace of a jock dumb as a rock. Some might swoon for eyes so blue, while others might have nothing to do with a man unless he rows crew. Likewise, people have clear preferences about age. In general, people prefer those close to them in age, unless there are other factors in play. Men, so the stereotype goes, have a marked preference for younger women. Women, so the stereotype goes, will tolerate a wrinkly old coot if he has stacks of the finest loot.

Preferences in dating are, I would say, analogous to preferences about food. One cannot be wrong about these and there are (usually) no grounds for condemning or praising such preferences. If Sally likes steak and tall guys, she just does. If Sam likes veggie burgers and winsome blondes, he just does. As with food preferences, there is little point in trying to argue as people like what they like and dislike what they dislike. That said, there are some things that might seem to go beyond mere preferences. To illustrate, I will offer some examples.

There are white people who would never date a black person. There are black people who would never date anyone but another black person. There are people who would never date a Jew. There are others for whom only a Jew will do. Depending on the cause of these preferences, they might be better categorized as biases or even prejudices. But it is worth considering that these might be benign preferences. That, for example, a white person has no racial bias, they just prefer light skins to dark skins for the same sort of reason they might prefer brunettes to blondes. Then again, they might not be so benign.

People are chock full of biases and prejudices, so it should come as no surprise that they influence dating behavior. On the one hand, it is tempting to accept these prejudices on the grounds that dating is entirely a matter of personal choice.  On the other hand, it could be argued that prejudices are problematic even in the context of dating. This is not to claim that people should be subject to compelled diversity dating, just that perhaps they should be criticized.

When it comes to alleged prejudices, it is worth considering that they might be a matter of innocent ignorance as the person lacks correct information. Assuming the person is not willfully and actively ignorant, this is not to be condemned as a moral flaw since it can be easily fixed by the truth. To go back to the food analogy, imagine that Jane prefers Big Macs because she thinks they are healthy and refuses to eat avocadoes because she thinks they are unhealthy. Given what she thinks, it is reasonable for her to eat Big Macs and avoid avocadoes. If she knew the truth, she would change her eating habits since she wants to eat healthily. She is merely ignorant. Likewise, if Jane believed that black men are all uneducated thugs, then it would seem reasonable for her to not to want to date a black man given what she believes. If she knew the truth, her view would change. As such, she is not prejudiced, just ignorant.

It is also worth considering that an apparent prejudice is a real prejudice, that the person would either refuse to accept facts or would still maintain the same behavior in the face of the facts. As an example, suppose that Sam thinks that white people are complete racists and thus refuses to even consider dating one. While it is often claimed that everyone is racist, not all white people are complete racists. As such, if Sam persisted in his belief or behavior in the face of the facts, then it would be reasonable to condemn him for his prejudice.

Finally, it might even be the case that the alleged prejudice is rational and well founded. To use a food analogy, a person who will not eat raw steak because she knows the health risks is not prejudiced but quite reasonable. Likewise, a person who will not date a person who is a known cheater is not prejudiced but rational.

But what about age? The easy and obvious answer is that it can fall into all three of the categories discussed above. If a person’s dating decisions are based on incorrect information about age, then they have made an error of ignorance. If a person’s decisions are based on mere prejudice, then they have made a moral error. But, if the decision regarding age and dating is rational and well founded, then the person would have made a good decision. As should be suspected, the specifics of the situation are what matter. That said, there are some general categories relating to age that are worth considering.

While I was fifty when I wrote the first version of this essay, I am now fifty-nine. So, I am considering these matters from the perspective of an even older person.  Honesty compels me to admit that I am influenced by my own biases here and, as my friend Julie pointed out in 2016, older men are full of delusions about age. I presumably have an extra nine years of delusions. However, I will endeavor to be objective and will lay out my reasoning.

The first is the matter of health. In general, as people get older, their health declines. For example, older people are more likely to have colon cancer. Hence people who are not at risk usually do not get colonoscopies until fifty (although the recommendation now seems to be 45). Because of this, it is reasonable for a younger person to be concerned about dating someone older as that person is more likely to get ill and die. That said, an older person can be much healthier than a younger person. As such, it might come down to whether a person looks at dating option broadly in terms of categories of people (such as age or ethnicity) or is more willing to consider individuals who might differ from the stereotypes and statistics of these categories. Using categories does help speed up decisions, although doing so might result in missed opportunities. But, there are billions of humans and so categories can be useful if one wants to narrow their focus.

While an older person might not be sick, age does weaken the body. For example, I remember being bitterly disappointed by a shameful 16:28 5K in my youth. Now I must struggle to maintain that pace for a quarter mile. Back then I could easily do 90-100 miles a week; now I run a mere 20-50 and must row to get in the rest of my miles. Time is cruel. For those who are concerned about a person’s activity levels, age is a relevant factor and provides a reasonable basis for not dating an older (or younger) person that is neither an error nor a prejudice. However, an older person can be far fitter and active than a younger person, so that is worth considering before rejecting an entire category of people.

Life expectancy is also part of health concerns. A younger person interested in a long-term relationship would need to consider how long that long term might be and this is rational. To use an obvious analogy, when buying a car, one should consider the miles on it. Women also live longer than men, so that is a consideration as well. Since I am 59-year-old American living in Florida, the statistics say I have about 14.1 years left. Death sets a clear limit to how long term a relationship can be. But life expectancy and quality of life are influenced by many factors, and they might be worth considering. Or not. Because, you know, death.

The second broad category is that of interests and culture. Each person is born into a specific temporal culture and that shapes their interests. For example, musical taste is influenced by this, and older folks famously differ in their music from younger folks. What was once rebellious rock became a golden oldie suitable to be played in Publix. Fashion is also very much a matter of time, although styles have a way of cycling back into vogue, like those bell bottoms. Thus, people who differ in age are people from different cultures and that presents a real challenge. An old person who tries to act younger typically only succeeds in appearing absurd. One who does not try will presumably not fit in with a younger person. So, either way is a path to failure.

There is also the fact that interests change as a person gets older. To use some stereotypes, older folks are supposed to love shuffleboard and bingo while younger folks are into things that would presumably kill or baffle old people, like video games and Snapchat. Party behavior also differs. It could be countered that there can be shared interests between people of different ages and that a lack of shared interests is obviously not limited to those who differ in age. The response is that perhaps the age difference would generally result in too much of a difference in interests, thus making avoiding dating people who differ enough in age rational and reasonable.

The third broad category consists of concerns about disparities in power. An older adult will typically have a power advantage over a younger adult, and this raises moral concerns about exploitation. But there is also the reverse concern: that a younger person will exploit an older person. Because of this, a younger adult should be rightly concerned about being at a disadvantage relative to an older person. Of course, this concern is not just limited to age. If the concern about power disparity is important, then it also applies to disparities in education, income, and abilities between people in the same age group. That said, the disparities would tend to be increased with an age difference. As such, it is reasonable to be concerned about this factor.

The fourth broad category is the “ick factor.” While there is some social tolerance for rich old men having hot young partners, people dating or attempting to date outside of their socially defined age categories can be condemned because it is seen as “icky” or “gross.” Back when I was in graduate school, I remember people commenting on how gross it was for old faculty to hook up with graduate students. Laying aside exploitation and unprofessionalism, it did seem gross. As such, the ick argument has appeal. But there is the question of whether the perceived grossness is founded or not. On the one hand, it can be argued that grossness is in the eye of the beholder or that grossness is set by social norms and these serve as proper foundations. On the other hand, it could be contended that the perception of grossness can be unfounded prejudice. On the third hand, the grossness could be cashed out in terms of the above categories. For example, it is icky for an unhealthy and weak rich man to date a hot, healthy young woman with whom he has no real common interests (beyond money, of course). He should be dating an unhealthy, weak, old woman with whom he has common interests.

My long-term, long-distance relationship came to an amicable end in May of 2024, thus briefly tossing me back into the world of dating before I gave up. This is the sequel to a similar ending with a different person back in 2016, allowing me to revisit what I wrote back then.

Since starting and maintaining a relationship is a lot of work (if not, you are either lucky or doing it wrong), I think it is important to consider whether relationships are worth it. One obvious consideration is the fact that most romantic relationships end well before death.  Even marriage, which is supposed to be the most solid of relationships, tends to end in divorce. I am divorced; my smart and ambitious wife took an excellent academic job in California and then divorced me in 2004 when she could no longer do the long-distance thing. I definitely have a type.

While there are many ways to look at the ending of a relationship, there are two main approaches. One is to consider the relationship a failure. This can be seen as trying to write a book and not finish: all that work poured into it, yet it remains incomplete. Another obvious analogy is with running a marathon and not finishing. While great effort was expended, it ended in failure.

Another approach is to consider the ending more positively: the relationship ended but was completed. Going back to the analogies, it is like completing that book you are writing or finishing that marathon. True, it has ended, but it is supposed to end.

When my previous relationship ended in 2016, I initially looked at it as a failure: all that effort invested and it ended because, despite two years of trying, we could not get academic jobs in the same geographical area. However, I tried to look at it in a more positive light: although I would have preferred that it did not end, it was a very positive relationship, rich with wonderful experiences and helped me to become better as a human being. There still, of course, remains the question of whether it is worth being in another relationship. As a spoiler, I did meet another wonderful person, a smart ambitious woman who moved away and decided that the long-distance relationship was too much. I guess that is a double spoiler.

One way to address this is in the context of biology and evolution. Humans are animals that need food, water and air to survive. As such, there is no real question about whether food, water and air are worth it, one is simply driven to possess them. Likewise, humans are driven by their biology to reproduce, and natural selection seems to have selected genes that mold brains to engage in relationships. As such, there is no real question of whether they are worth it, humans have relationships. This answer is, of course, rather unsatisfying since a person can, it would seem, make the choice to be in a relationship or not. There is also the question of whether relationships are worth it. This is a question of value and science is not the realm where such answers lie. Value questions belong to such areas as moral philosophy and aesthetics. So, on to value.

The question of whether relationships are worth it or not is like asking whether technology is worth it: the question is too broad. While some might endeavor to give sweeping answers to these broad questions, such an approach would be problematic and unsatisfying. Just as it makes sense to be more specific about technology (such as asking if ChatGPT is worth the cost), it makes more sense to consider whether a specific relationship is worth it. That is, there seems to be no general answer to the question of whether relationships are worth it or not, it is a question of whether a specific relationship would be worth it.

It could be countered that there is, in fact, a legitimate general question. A person might see any likely relationship to not be worth it. For example, I know many professionals who have devoted their lives to their careers and have no interest in relationships. They say they do not consider romantic involvement to have much, if any value. A person might also regard a relationship as a necessary part of their well-being. While this might be due to social conditioning or biology, there are certainly people who consider almost any relationship worth it.

These counters are reasonable, but it can be argued that the general question is best answered by considering specific relationships. If no specific possible (or likely) relationship for a person would be worth it, then relationships in general would not be worth it. So, if a person honestly considered all the relationships she might have and rejected all of them because their value is not sufficient, then relationships would not be worth it to her. As noted above, some people take this view.

If at least some possible (or likely) relationships would be worth it to a person, then relationships would thus be worth it. This leads to an obvious point: the worth of a relationship depends on that specific relationship, so it comes down to weighing the negative and positive aspects. If there is a sufficient surplus of positive over the negative, then the relationship would be worth it.

As should be expected, there are many serious epistemic problems here. How does a person know what would be positive or negative? How does a person know that a relationship with a specific person would be more positive or more negative? How does a person know what they should do to make the relationship more positive than negative? How does a person know how much the positive needs to outweigh the negative to make the relationship worth it? And, of course, many more concerns. Given the challenge of answering these questions, it is no wonder that so many relationships fail. There is also the fact that each person has a different answer to many of these questions, so getting answers from others will tend to be of little real value and could lead to problems. Back in 2016, I had given up on relationships until I was inspired to try again. As I write this, I am once again in a state of doubt.

An odd thing about the American far right is they often seem to be buffoons doing absurd things. One example is the fascist organization Proud Boys. While this is a domestic terrorist group known for violence, it is also known for its wacky rules and rituals. They have a strict rule about masturbation and a ritual in which they punch a member while shouting out the names of breakfast cereals. They also seem to LARP by dressing up with a Call of Duty look and have an order of “Alt Knights.” As such, they can appear as a bunch of loonies.

As a second example, Trump puts on a masterful show of buffoonery. He maintains an odd orange skin tone which has led to speculation that it is a spray on tan. His COVID press conferences were master performances in absurdity with bizarre claims made in front of the cameras. His bumbling of basic language and expression of ignorance about basic facts relevant to his job are also an impressive performance of buffoonery.

As a third example, Rudy Giuliani rivaled his master in his buffoonery. He crazily advanced unsupported conspiracy theories, filed unfounded lawsuits with typos, held a press conference at a landscaping business, and in a brilliant stroke of foolery held a press conference with what might be mascara (rather than hair dye) running down the sides of his face. Comedians are hard pressed to parody the right. While it is tempting to dismiss this buffoonery as arising from stupidity, it is worth considering it is a strategy. So, what are possible advantages of buffoonery as a political tool?

One advantage is that ridiculous behavior can make someone seem less dangerous or even harmless. Take, for example, the Proud Boys. Their breakfast cereal beating and “no wank” rules make them seem silly. How could such silly people be domestic terrorists? In the case of Rudy and his ilk, their incompetent buffoonery makes them seem silly. How could some crazy guy with mascara running down his face have harmed American democracy? The defense against this is to realize that even buffoons can be dangerous, especially when their buffoonery is directed by non-buffoons and used as a cover.

A second advantage of buffoonery is that it distracts people from serious matters. Trump’s constant buffoonery draws attention away from the harmful and corrupt things going on under his reign. As many have said, Trump sucks up all the oxygen and dominates the news cycle and thus important stories get little or no attention. In the case of the Proud Boys, their buffoonery distracts from their violence. In the case of Rudy and his ilk, their buffoonery distracts from the deeper stories of the undermining of American democracy in favor of authoritarianism.  This tactic is analogous to that used by pickpockets and magicians: they often use an assistant to distract the target so that they can accomplish their goal. The defense is to resist the lure of the buffoonery but this is hard for most of the media as they need to capture an audience.

A third advantage is that buffoonery makes it harder for the opponents of the far right to convince others that these people are a threat. This strategy is presented in the X-Files episode José Chung’s From Outer Space. In this episode, Mulder and Scully run into the Men in Black. Alex Trebek plays one of them but he is supposed to just look like Alek Trebek rather than be Alex Trebek. That is, he is playing someone who is playing him. This is done because the Men in Black are supposed to appear so ridiculous that any story told about them will seem absurd and unbelievable. To use the Proud Boys as an example, if someone tries to explain that this “no wank” group of breakfast cereal shouters is a real threat, they might seem crazy.

Folks on the right also use coded language, dog-whistles, and euphemisms to produce a similar effect. Because of this strategy, trying to explain the right to “normies” can make a person seem crazy. Phrases and terms like “bad hombres”, “law and order”, “inner cities”, “suburban housewives”, “America First”, “international bankers”, and such appear innocent to those ignorant of the code and the context. For example, when Trump talks about “law and order” in the “inner cities” he is usually talking about using the police to oppress black Americans. When a right-wing group talks about “international bankers” and “Soros” they are usually engaging in antisemitism. As I can attest to from my own experience, trying to explain dog whistles and coded language to “normies” results in incredulous stares which is exactly what the right intends. Overcoming this is challenging, especially since the right adapts when their dog whistles and coded language is exposed to the mainstream. But this is something that needs to be done and one hopes that more people become aware of what the right is trying to do and can decode their language even when the right adapts.

QAnon is essentially a conspiracy street sausage: scrap and leftovers of past conspiracies wrapped in the intestines of an apocalyptic cult and served up to people who are not careful about what gets into their minds. But it is also a fascinating bit of story design that mirrors classic techniques used to write horror adventures in role-playing games and tales of terror.

Put a bit simply, QAnon is a conspiracy theory that there is a worldwide cabal of Satan-worshiping (possibly cannibal) pedophiles operating a sex-trafficking ring. Since these are criminal activities universally condemned as morally horrific, the story of QAnon should be in the police procedural genre. If the evidence QAnon claims existed, then there should be worldwide arrests with public support. While there have been arrests and investigations  featuring the likes of Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell, there is no evidence of activity against this alleged cabal. This is not surprising as the authors of the conspiracy seem to be using a classic technique used in horror adventures in games and stories, that of negating the authorities to make room for the heroes.

In horror role-playing games such as Call of Cthulhu, one takes on the role of a hero attempting to thwart or at least delay the machinations of evil. One practical concern is providing a rational explanation as to why the heroes are the ones who must save the day. The heroes are usually just a random collection of people thrown into horror. They are almost never in positions of meaningful power or authority. As such, they are not the ones to take on the job because they have an army or police force to get it done for them. They are the ones to do the job because they are the heroes. There must also be a rational explanation that explains why the authorities are not the ones solving the problem, otherwise there would be no need for the heroes. There are a variety of ways to handle this negation of authority.

One classic is isolation. The heroes are someplace where there are no authorities who can save the day. They might, for example, be in a cabin deep in the Maine woods with no phone service or working transportation. They might, as another example, be on a damaged ship with no power and no working radio. QAnon does not use this approach, since it would not work with their horror story.

A second approach is that the authorities are unwilling or unable to help. They might be too afraid to act, they might be too weak to act, they might not know what is occurring, or the heroes might not have the evidence needed to convince them to act. In some cases, the heroes intentionally avoid involving the authorities when they believe that the authorities simply cannot handle the situation, and they do not want to get people needlessly killed.  In the case of QAnon, they think that some people in power are not part of the cabal but are also not among the heroes supposedly fighting it.

A third classic approach is that the authorities are part of the conspiracy: they are not solving the problem because they are the problem. One practical concern here is that the authorities cannot be too powerful, otherwise the heroes would not stand a chance against them. QAnon does claim that at least some of those in power are part of the conspiracy. They address the power concern by making Donald Trump their main hero: he can fight against the pillars of the community because he is the President and has the military and executive branch at his disposal. This does create another sort of problem: since Trump has such overwhelming force the adventure of QAnon should have ended almost immediately with Trump saving the day immediately. As a game, it would have gone down like this:

 

Keeper: “Okay, you are the President of the United States and have overwhelming evidence of a cabal of pedophile sex-traffickers.”

Player: “I give the FBI director a call and send him all the evidence.”

Keeper: “Great! The cabal members are soon arrested and your approval rating skyrockets!”

Player: “How much XP is that?”

Game Master: “This is Call of Cthulhu; you just get skill improvement rolls.”

 

As such, QAnon must explain why their hero has not used his overwhelming power to solve the problem. This requires another technique, delayed resolution. In a story or horror adventure, an immediate and easy solution is not satisfying and so the resolution must be delayed. To steal from Aristotle, the resolution cannot come too quickly—this makes the story too short, and it will fail to satisfy. It also cannot take too long since dragging the problem out will become tedious and strain plausibility. As such, the ideal is to be neither too short nor too long but to be just right.

QAnon has attempted to delay the resolution by explaining that Trump needed time to plan and organize what they call the “Storm.” On this day Trump will finally spring into action and the cabal members will be arrested. In a horror adventure, the game master delays resolution in various ways, such as having minor villains that must be vanquished, investigations that must be conducted and red herrings that distract the heroes. In the case of QAnon, the delayed resolution seems rather too delayed: Trump is into his second terms and there has not been a drop of rain, let alone a Storm. The Storm is tomorrow and always will be.

QAnon has, of course, a long list of failed predictions and has persisted (as such cults do) through these failures; but the Storm is critical to Trump remaining the hero. A good analogy is to consider what happens to apocalyptic groups when the date of their apocalypse comes and goes without an apocalypse: they tend to collapse. QAnon has, amazingly, been able to persist despite these failed predictions and remains active today. This, I admit, has surprised me. But perhaps playing QAnon is so addictive that they cannot stop.

Epistemology is a branch of philosophy concerned with theories of knowledge. The name is derived from the Greek terms for episteme (knowledge) and logos (explanation). Epidemiology is the study and analysis of the distribution, patterns and determinants of health and disease conditions in defined populations. While the names of the two fields sound alike, they are obviously different. But I propose a subbranch of epistemology that could be called “epistemic epidemiology” or perhaps given a silly name like “epistidemology.” This subbranch would not be focused on the epistemic features of epidemiology (which would also be interesting). It would not be about knowledge of diseases but about diseases of knowledge.

These diseases of knowledge can include corruption or infection of normally healthy epistemic systems as well as epistemic systems that are fundamentally pathological in nature. One goal of this subbranch would be to work out descriptive accounts of various epistemic diseases as well as theories of how such diseases arise, spread, and do damage. There would also be descriptive accounts of epistemic systems that are inherently pathological. Of special interest would be the nature and causes of epistemepidemics which are widespread epistemic pathologies in populations.

This subbranch, I propose, should be more than descriptive. Like ethics (and medicine) it should also be prescriptive: epistemic pathologies should be analyzed with the aim of curing (or replacing) them, so that people can have healthy belief forming systems. As would be expected, doing prescriptive epistemology will involve disputes and controversies like those in ethics and arguments will be needed to defend claims about which epistemic systems are pathological and how they might be treated. Fortunately, there are already two established areas of thought that will be useful here.

One area is what epistemologists call the ethics of belief (thanks to William Clifford). This area deals with such matters as the moral obligations we might have when forming beliefs. In fact, it could be argued that there is no need for epistemic epidemiology since the ethics of belief already covers the normative aspects of epistemology. While this view is reasonable, while epistemic epidemiology includes normative components it also covers non-normative areas that are not covered by the ethics of belief. An obvious example is that the ethics of belief does not address questions of why pathological epistemologies can be so widespread. So, just as medical ethics and medical epidemiology are distinct, the same holds for the ethics of belief and epistemic epidemiology.

A second area is the realm of logic, with special attention on critical thinking methods. While people can engage in endless debates about epistemic theories, what counts as defective (even pathological) reasoning is well established. Someone who insists on forming beliefs based solely on rhetoric would be in error; someone who insists on forming beliefs based on fallacies would seem to be pathological (pun intended). As such, logic provides an excellent toolkit, much like medical techniques provide an excellent tool kit for medical epidemiologists.

There would certainly seem to be important roles in this field for findings from neuroscience, psychiatry, and psychology. For example, delusional disorder is a serious mental illness that has a profound impact on a person’s epistemic systems: they claim to have knowledge of something that is not true and will persist even in the face of evidence that should logically undermine their false belief. This is not to claim that all or even most false beliefs or epistemic flaws arise from mental illness but that the science of how such epistemically connected illnesses (might) work would be especially useful to addressing epistemic issues in general. Naturally, this matter must be addressed with due sensitivity and there is the obvious worry that the unscrupulous might weaponize claims about mental illness. Example of this sort of thing include when critics of President Trump are accused of having Trump Derangement Syndrome or when Trump supporters are accused of being mentally ill because of their support for Trump. This is, of course, analogous to how people use claims of disease to demonize migrants.

While it is essential to guard against weaponizing epistemic epidemiology, it is also important to be willing to apply it to outbreaks of epistemic pathologies. To use a terrifying analogy, can you imagine what would happen if the response to a medical pandemic were hijacked by political ideology and the scientific response was derailed?  As with disease outbreaks, the appropriate approach is to not engage in demonizing those impacted but by taking an objective approach aimed at analyzing and (if possible) recommending treatments. While there have long been widespread epistemic pathologies, the rise of mass media and social media have enabled these pathologies to become pandemics, and some are global in nature. National and global conspiracy theories provide excellent examples of the likely presence of pathological epistemic systems, though it is worth considering that even healthy epistemic systems can generate many false beliefs.

As with addressing medical pandemics, addressing epistemic pandemics is essential for the health, safety, and well-being of humanity. While philosophers have long struggled to help inoculate people with good logic, we must accept that a global effort is needed to address what is now a global problem. The first step is the easiest, which is the creation of this subbranch of epistemology. 

While it might strike some as odd, I respect Trump supporters who claim Biden won in 2020 through fraud. I am taking them seriously; the same way I would take a claim by a professional colleague seriously in a philosophical dispute. I am also assuming that they are being serious.

This respect manifests in two ways. First, I am assuming they believe in their claims and are not knowingly making false claims for nefarious purposes, such as trying to steal the election.

Because there is currently no evidence for their claims of widespread voter fraud, I believe that Trump’s supporters are in error. But this is different from claiming they are lying. While it might not seem to be an important distinction, the difference between honest error and lying is significant. Honest error occurs when a person believes a claim that is false, but they think it is true, and they have put in the work to check their belief. A person is lying when they knowingly make false claims with an intent to deceive.

If Trump’s supporters believe that widespread voter fraud is real, then they would presumably either have evidence for their belief or they would support efforts to find credible evidence. After all, if they believe they are right, they should be confident of inquiries into their claims: the evidence should be there for all to see.

Trump supporters tend to regard the “mainstream” news and academic institutions as purveyors of fake news and lies. As such, we cannot undertake our search for evidence in such places. Although if these sources did find evidence of fraud by Biden, Trump supporters might find them credible in this one instance.

If the Democrats perpetrated widespread voter or election fraud, then there should be evidence, and this should be turned over to law enforcement. To use an analogy, if it were claimed that a group was involved in a nationwide illegal money laundering scheme, then there should be evidence of this alleged crime, and the police should be informed. If there is credible evidence, law enforcement would find it and there would be documentation in the form of police reports, court transcripts and the like. The same should hold true of the crimes of voter or election fraud.

If Trump supporters do not believe what they are saying, then they would have no evidence to support their lies and would have no interest in looking for evidence that they know does not exist. If they do believe what they are saying, then they should be able to provide evidence and should support the search for objective evidence. This seems like a reasonable test of honesty: the honest believer wants to believe the truth and has no fear of following the evidence to its conclusion. The liar has no evidence and attempts to distract others from the search for truth. To use another analogy, if Ted tells me that his neighbor Sam, whom he dislikes, is kidnaping people, and he is being honest, then I would expect him to provide evidence and take that evidence to the police. If he has no evidence and is unwilling to go to the police, then I would suspect that Ted is lying about Sam. If he was seriously concerned and had actual evidence, he would go to law enforcement. If he was trying to make trouble for Sam, I would expect that he would make unsupported claims but never go to the police as they would expect evidence.

Second, I assume they have a moral motivation. This is the assumption that Trump supporters are sincere when they say they love democracy and are motivated only by a desire to have an honest and fair election. The main alternative is that these claims are lies, and they do not really care how Trump wins.

Given this assumption, Trump supporters would be morally committed to a fair and honest election in which the candidate who receives the majority of legitimate votes wins the state in question. This moral view does, obviously, commit a person to opposing voter and election fraud: this sort of fraud would undermine democracy and make an election illegitimate to the degree that fraud occurred. I agree with the Trump supporters on this point, and I also oppose voter and election fraud: such fraud would be an attack on a foundation of democracy and would be an attempt to rob citizens of their right to choose.

This view also morally commits a person to opposing false claims about voter or election fraud: these false claims can damage the perceived legitimacy of an election. They can also be used, ironically, to commit a form of election fraud in which legitimate votes are rejected due to false claims they are fraudulent. If Trump’s supporters have a sincere moral commitment to democracy and honest elections, they should vehemently oppose false claims of voter or election fraud for these are as dangerous to the democracy and honest elections they purport to love. 

If Trump supporters show little or no concern about ensuring that claims of fraud are accurately assessed, then it would be reasonable to infer that they do not really care about the integrity of elections. Rather, what they care about is winning by any means.

As a closing point, thinking about whether Trump supporters are serious in their claims about fraud took me to pro-wrestling. When I have engaged with Trump supporters seriously on social media over the years, their responses tend to be insults and fallacies, as if we are engaged in some sort of competitive game rather than seriously looking at important claims about fraud. My hypothesis is that they might be engaged in kayfabe: they know they are engaged in performative fiction and accusing Biden of cheating is just part of the theatre. Asking them for evidence of cheating is like asking for evidence that the wrestling heel really does all those terrible things. Asking that question misses the point of the performance. If this is the case, then to Trump supporters I must seem like someone who wanders on stage at a play and thinks the drama is real.  To be honest, I do not know.

In the case of wrestling, taking the make-believe as real has no meaningful consequences. In the case of the election and politics in general, the make-believe (if it is such) does seem to have consequences. Elections are serious matters and if this is all theatre, it is harmful theater. My dilemma is this: if I take Trump supporters seriously, then I expect evidence for their claims. If it is just kayfabe, then it makes sense why no evidence is offered. But this means that their claims can be dismissed for what they are: mere fiction.

Back in 2020 Joe Biden has won the presidential election. Trump then claimed that Biden won through fraud, something that even Fox News greeted with some skepticism. Trump even claimed, without evidence, that voter fraud occurred in the election he won in 2016. Some of his supporters echoed his claims and presented, without evidence, claims of voter fraud.

As would be expected, the unsupported claims about fraud have been repeatedly debunked. But Trump and his supporters persisted in their claims even after Trump won in 2024. Issues and problems do arise in any election and fraud does occur in some microscopic fraction of the votes. As such, arguments trying to prove that significant voter fraud exists tend to be fallacies or based on lies. One popular approach is the fallacy of anecdotal evidence. This involves emphasizing an example of real fraud and then taking the anecdote to counter the overwhelming statistical evidence that voter fraud is incredibly rare. Somewhat ironically, the anecdotes often serve to better show that fraud is difficult and largely ineffective: the perpetrators are caught and any damage they did is addressed. For example, a North Carolina Republican operative was charged with multiple felonies for ballot tampering in a 2018 election. The results were overturned.

The rhetorical tactic of hyperbole is also used as are outright lies, such as claims made by Attorney General Barr. Willful misinterpretation is also a common tactic. For example, a New Jersey postal worker did dump 99 general election ballots in a dumpster over the course of a few days. While this might seem to be a case of intentional election tampering, the worker dumped more than 1,800 pieces of mail. As such, the more reasonable explanation is that he was dumping the mail for other reasons and ballots happened to be in this mail. There was a similar incident in which three trays of mail were found in a ditch. There were some mail-in ballots in the mix, but the situation was (as one would expect) nothing like the claims made by Trump about ballots being dumped in rivers.

While these incidents were bad, they are not a voter fraud problem but a problem with mail being dumped or lost. Once again, these examples ironically show that the system is working reasonably well: the mail was found, investigated and the issue addressed. Trump and his supporters have generally destroyed all their credibility, but this is not to say that their claims must be false. To infer that a claim about fraud is false because it was made by Trump or a supporter would be an ad hominem fallacy. But Trump has no credibility, so it would be foolish to believe a claim simply because it was made by him. What would be needed is credible evidence of significant, intentional efforts to engage in fraud or tamper with the election. So how can the dispute over fraud be settled?

Suppose that we were disputing the issue of which NBA player scored the most points in 2024. While people might have strong feelings about who is the best player, we would be able to easily settle this by going to a trusted source for statistics and the issue would be resolved. While voter and election fraud are also objective features of reality, there is probably no source trusted by both fraud claimers and fraud deniers. For example, if I refer to NPR, CNN, or academic studies, I will be greeted with cries of “fake news” and “Marxist academics.” So, the matter cannot be addressed in this manner. What I will try to do is present a rational approach to addressing claims of fraud that does not require trusting news or academic sources.

Individual voter fraud is unlikely because it is a high-effort, low return tactic that is usually a felony. To use an analogy, it is like trying to get rich by robbing kid’s lemonade stands with a gun. There is little return, it takes effort, and the consequences are severe.  Election tampering is a “better” strategy in that it has a higher return on the effort but is also high risk as these activities are typically felonies and they seem to be easy to detect. While it could be argued that people do stupid things, significant voter fraud of this sort would require many people independently deciding to do the same stupid thing. While not impossible, it is unlikely. And if people were that stupid that consistently, new voting laws would obviously not stop them.

There is also the fact that there are legal ways to shape the vote: voter suppression, voter expansion, gerrymandering and such. These provide far greater return on effort and are not illegal. This is why parties put their efforts into these strategies rather than engaging in low-yield and high-risk fraud. As such, fraud organized by parties is unlikely but not impossible.

At this point, Trump supporters are likely to insist that they do have evidence of voter and election fraud by pointing to memes, websites, tweets, and videos. Since disputing these sources would be pointless, I will instead offer the following.

Voter fraud and election interference are crimes, typically felonies. If you have evidence of such activity, you should send it to law enforcement rather than to me. If they find it credible, they will investigate. If fraud or tampering did occur, then there will be arrests and trials. As such, if there is real evidence of widespread voter fraud or election interference, then there should be follow-up police reports and court transcripts. To be fair, it can take a while for investigations to conclude, so one must wait a reasonable amount of time to allow for the legal evidence to surface. Such information can be acquired directly from the police and court reports and there is no need to rely on the “fake news.” As I am writing this in 2025, no evidence of significant voter fraud has surfaced from the 2020 election and the best explanation why Trump has not ordered an in-depth investigation is that he knows he lost the election.

To use an analogy, if Trump claimed Democrats murdered millions of people in 2016 or that they were engaged in widespread murder in 2020, then there should be evidence of these crimes. Like voter fraud, murder is a crime and there would be evidence for these murders. If there is no evidence, then it would be unreasonable to believe claims about Democrats committing murder. The same applies to the crime of voter fraud.

If you do believe that Biden won due to widespread fraud and have evidence for this, I look forward to seeing the police reports and court transcripts for these cases. Oddly, past claims of significant fraud and tampering made by Trump and his supporters lack such evidence. For example, Trump’s claim about millions of people voting illegally in 2016 has obviously never been backed up with evidence. Trump has had control of the executive branch for four years and even his own voter fraud commission failed to turn up widespread fraud.

For Biden to have won through fraud would have required a nationwide coordinated conspiracy involving large numbers of people and it would have to occur under the noses of election officials, media, citizens and law enforcement. Such a vast conspiracy would create readily available evidence. If it were claimed that Democrats are Machiavellian masters of intrigue who have duped the nation, then there seem to be two inferences. One is that if they are so competent, then perhaps they should be the ones in charge. The second is that if they are so capable and hiding evidence how does anyone know they committed this miraculous crime?

At this point a dedicated Trump supporter might bring up the shadow government, a conspiracy theory that there is a secret government with the real power. The easy and obvious replies are as follows. First, how could this be? Back in 2020 Trump held the executive branch and thus controlled the military and the police. He also effectively controlled many courts. Republicans held the Senate, most governorships, and most state legislatures. There is not much left for the deep state or shadow government to control. Second, if this deep state or shadow government is so powerful and so inimical to Trump, then one must wonder why it allowed Trump to win in 2016 and then in 2024. The more reasonable explanation is that Biden simply won in 2020 by legitimately getting more votes. And Trump won in 2024.

As a final point when thinking about claims of voter or election fraud in 2020, consider the other elections on that ballot. If the Democrats were running large scale voter fraud, they would have seen to it that the won the other elections as well. One could argue that the Democrats are being super clever by just cheating on the Presidential election but playing fair with all the other races so no one suspects they are cheating. This is obviously stupid as Trump was already accusing the Democrats of planning fraud and they knew they would be accused of fraud. So, if they were going to cheat, there would be no reason not to cheat across the board.

George enjoyed and hated the privileged position of being the grandson of Edgar the Tyrant, the man who had killed his kindly brother Sam. Edgar had conquered the Seven Systems with alien technology and established the most crushing despotism in human history. Like his grandfather, George was a brilliant scientist with a special talent for understanding alien technology. Unlike his grandfather, George was burdened with ethics and compassion. After discerning the secrets of an alien time machine, George nobly decided to sacrifice himself by going back in time and killing his grandfather before he discovered the trove of alien technology that enabled his reign of terror.

After travelling back in time and locating his target, George took careful aim with the alien plasma rifle, confident that the heavy weapon would guarantee the death of his grandfather. It did exactly that, vaporizing not only him but several meters of ground.

George expected to be erased from time instantly, but in realizing that he still existed he realized he still existed. Thinking that it might take some time for the effects to catch up to him (or head back to him, however it worked) he sat down to wait. And wait. When nothing happened, he thought “hmm, maybe that rumor about grandma and Uncle Sam was true after all” and travelled back to his time.

 

Time travel, as any time traveler will tell you, is problematic. One of the classic problems is the Grandfather Paradox. If you can travel in time, then you should be able to go back in time and kill your grandfather (or grandmother, to avoid sexism in temporal murder). However, if you kill your grandfather, then you would never exist and would not be able to go back and kill him. As such, time travel would make it possible to kill your grandfather but killing him would make it impossible for you to kill him. Hence the paradox.

One solution is to take it as a reductio ad absurdum of time travel. If time travel were possible, it would lead to an unacceptable paradox. Therefore, time travel is not possible. Another approach is to address the paradox with a bit of temporal deus ex machina: you can travel back and time and try to kill your grandfather, but you will never be able to succeed. If you, for example, try to run him over with a car, you will run out of gas or get a flat tire. If, as another example, you try to shoot him with a rifle, every round will miss or misfire. Or you will get caught by the police. There is an obvious question of how this temporal enforcement mechanism would work.

One could, of course, invoke a teleological explanation: there is a purposeful agent that ensures that you will never succeed. As with non-time travel teleological agents, this could be a supernatural being (God or a god of time), mortal agents (time cops, perhaps) or some sort of Aristotelian temporal paradox-preventer (perhaps related to the first mover).

In the context of doing metaphysics in accord with the economic style of argumentation, using a teleological metaphysical entity to solve the paradox would raise the cost of the theory. As per Occam’s razor, entities should not be multiplied beyond necessity. Metaphysical teleological explanations also tend to be out of favor in philosophy, especially those of the supernatural sort. This will tend to impose both a “weirdness” and implausibility cost on the theory.

But this cost can be offset if the entity provides enough benefits, such as explanatory power. On this economic model one chooses between metaphysical theories in a way analogous to choosing between smartphones: the one with the best benefits for the lowest cost would be the winner.

Having mortal agents prevent the paradox could make for interesting science fiction (and imposes no metaphysical cost) but there is an obvious problem: mortal agents could fail. While one could argue that time police would have a huge advantage over a lone time-traveler, there are easy-to-imagine scenarios where even a lone time-traveler succeeds. One could imagine, for example, a rogue time cop deciding to kill their grandparent. Because of this, fallible protectors of time would not solve the problem.

Another approach would be to embrace a form of non-teleological determinism: while one could travel back in time one can never succeed in killing one’s grandfather because one failed. This would seem to have broader implications for time travel as well in terms of making any changes to the past. This does raise the question of how this determinism would work but determinism (in its various forms) is already a well-established philosophical position. As such, if you are already a determinist, then you can presumably apply it to time at no extra cost and solve this problem.

Science fiction has other options that could solve the problem. One approach taken by Alfred Bester  in “The Men Who Murdered Mohammed” is that going back in time to commit murders does not affect the timeline, but instead affects the traveler by gradually removing them from reality. While the mechanism for this would need to be explained, it does solve the paradox: you could go back and kill your grandfather, but this would have no impact on the timeline. You would just fade a bit, metaphysically speaking, and history would remain unchanged.

Another approach is that time travel creates alternative timelines. The traveler goes back and murders his grandfather and thus creates a new timeline in which this occurred. The original timeline (whatever that might mean) remains intact. The time traveler might also split and they would exist in the original timeline because nothing changes there. But they would not exist in the “new” timeline: they killed their grandfather in that timeline and hence would never be born. Since time travel is mysterious and messy, perhaps the time traveler would be exempt from the split in some manner. Or perhaps not.

This approach does raise some obvious problems. One is that time travel would seem to create new timelines ex nihilo: they seem to simply come into existence from nothing. Unless, of course, the original timeline gets sliced like a pizza, something that would seem to be, at least in theory, detectable. Then again, if the original timeline is infinite, dividing infinity results in infinities. Another set of problems would involve personal identity. If the split occurs, what happens to the identity of the people in the original timeline and those “created” in the new timeline? For example, if Sally goes back and kills her grandfather and splits the timeline, then there would be a new timeline with the people from the original “duplicated” (perhaps including her grandfather if a there is an afterlife). To illustrate, consider Sally’s grandmother Sarah. When Sally kills her grandfather and splits the timeline, then there would now be at least two Sarahs. Both arose from the unsplit Sarah, so they would both seem to be Sarah. But they are now two people unless there is some form of cross timeline personal identity. Some theories of personal identity can easily handle this. For example, Locke’s consciousness-based theory would entail that both Sarahs were the original Sarah (if their memories remain) but they are no longer the same person after the split because they have different memories. Theories, like Descartes’, that make the person the soul would need to account for there being two souls: does the original divide like an amoeba or does a new soul get created? Or something else? All these issues (and others) need to be addressed to make this solution work.

While there are numerous problems that arise from this approach, it does not require postulating the existence of new types of metaphysical entities: one just needs multiples of what we already have, namely the timeline. This does not raise the ontological cost of the theory. To use an analogy, if one accepts the existence of one supernatural god, accepting a second or tenth god comes with no extra ontological cost. The price is paid for each metaphysical type rather than each token of that type. There might be other costs arising from this, though, such as matters of weirdness or plausibility.

The last approach I will consider is that time travel is dimensional travel. That is, when you travel in “time” you are going to another reality that is at a different time than your reality. On this view, when someone travels “in time” to kill “their” grandfather, they are travelling to an alternate reality and killing an alternate version of their grandfather. In that reality, “they” would not exist, but they could return to their own reality, which would be one in which their grandfather was not killed by a time traveler. This would be analogous to killing the grandfather’s twin brother: this kills someone like him but not him.

While this approach does require explaining how dimensional travel would work, it has fewer problems than the split timeline approach. While it does require multiple dimensions, so does the split timeline approach. But it does not require that they appear ex-nihilo or form from division. It also does not face the problems with personal identity: the person in the other reality is not the traveler’s grandfather, just someone similar. The obvious downside to this approach is that it solves the problem by eliminating time travel. But maybe that is a good thing.

Very broadly speaking, Democrats and Republicans have adopted two fundamentally different strategies for winning elections. These strategies are not used in every race and by every candidate but are generally used by the parties.

While Democrats have not done well lately, they have focused on getting more voters to vote for them. Republicans have focused on reducing the number of votes for the Democrats. This might seem to be distinction without a difference, but these are fundamentally different approaches.

 One part of the Democrat’s strategy is expanding the number of voters who vote by having more registered voters.  They support laws making it easier for citizens to register to vote encourage people to do so. They also tend to support restoring voting rights to felons who have served their time. In contrast, Republicans have done their best to prevent ex-felons from voting—even when they have the right to do so.  Republicans will sometimes accuse Democrats of getting non-citizens (or dead people) to vote. While it is true that non-citizens sometimes do get registered to vote, this seems to usually be an accident. Voter fraud is exceptionally rare and non-citizens voting is an even rarer form of fraud, despite Republicans claims. Democrats and Republicans both seem to believe that new voters are more likely to vote for Democrats and so this strategy makes sense to them.

Democrats also favor expanding the opportunities for citizens to vote. This includes having more polling places, keeping polls open for longer, enabling reliable public or private transport to the polls, and allowing vote-by-mail (sometimes known as absentee ballots).

Republicans, in contrast, have been waging legal battles to limit ballot boxes. They have also adopted a strategy of reducing polling sites and hours.  Trump waged a war of lies against mail-in-ballots. There were concerns that Trump was encouraging his supporters to engage in voter intimidation. Republicans also oppose making election day a national holiday while Democrats favor this.

Democrats and Republicans generally believe that Democrats would be more likely to win if it were easier for citizens to vote.  Republicans have traditionally engaged in voter suppression under the guise of fighting the almost non-existent voter fraud but Trump has gone so far as to claim that Republicans would never be elected again if it were easier to vote. While Republicans can and do win in fair elections, the approach of both parties is rational: easier voting does seem to favor Democrats because more people usually want to vote Democrat. While it is true that voter suppression can impact those who would vote for Republicans, voter suppression is targeted as much as possible to impact populations who are more likely to vote for Democrats than Republicans.

Before the Southern Strategy, it could be argued that the Democrats did not support minority voting. But this changed when the Southern Democrats became Southern Republicans. Now the Democrats try to get more votes by appealing to minority groups. They generally try to do this by promising small, but meaningful, benefits in return for votes. While the establishment Democrats serve the interests of the wealthy elites, they will also support laws that provide some benefits to the working class and minorities. They also try to reign in the excesses of the elites in the hopes of delaying the next economic collapse. For example, Democrats tend to support anti-discrimination laws, affirmative action, affordable health care and a small increase in the minimum wage. As another example, the Democrats have opened seats at the tables of power for minorities, with Obama and Harris being but two examples. While the Republicans do have minority members, they lag far behind the Democrats (and the Democrats are not doing great).

After losing to Obama twice, the Republicans seriously considered adopting the Democrat’s strategy of expanding their appeal to minorities. However, Trump put a decisive end to this in what amounts to a re-activation of the southern strategy. That is, the Republicans have stepped up their appeals to white fears, racism and xenophobia. White supremacists certainly approve of this approach. This does make sense: the Republicans probably cannot consistently outcompete the Democrats to win over a majority of the minority voters. They can, of course, recruit some individuals and present them as “proof” they are not racist (or sexist). Trump’s election showed the effectiveness of these strategies—and his re-election in 2024 confirmed that the Republicans picked an effective strategy.

Republicans do criticize the Democrats for allegedly pandering to minorities (and women) asserting at the same time that Democrats are devoted to political correctness while also claiming they are cynically exploiting minorities they do not care about. But there are two main responses to these charges. The first is that the Democrats offer minority voters some return on their vote, such as places at the table and legislation they want. This is how politics works since people vote to get a return on that vote. The Democrats should be criticized for providing too little return on that investment, but the Republicans offer minorities far less. Second, while motivation matters in terms of assessing a person’s ethics, it has no bearing on whether the action they take, or its consequences are good or bad. I will show this with an analogy.

Imagine that Carl the contractor wants to get your money, that is all he cares about. One option is for Carl to do the right thing and provide good work at a fair price. Another option is to use his tools to break into your house to steal your property. Carl’s motivation is the same in both cases; but how he gets your money matters morally. Likewise, even if the Democrats just want to win, it does matter how they do it. The Democrats are trying to win by getting more voters to vote for them by expanding voting rights and making it easier for citizens to vote. They believe they can win this way because they believe more people want them to win. As such, this strategy would strengthen and expand democracy.

And this is where the Republicans come in: Republicans are trying to win by keeping more people from voting and try to ensure they target those who are likely to vote for the Democrats. They believe they can win this way because they believe more people do not want them to win. So, they need to make sure that fewer people who do not want them to win get to vote. The path to victory is to weaken and restrict democracy. I am not claiming that the Democrats are angels, but expanding voting is the right thing even if they have the wrong motivations.   It might be true that the Democrats would do what the Republicans are doing if the situation were different. If so, they would be doing wrong in that hypothetical situation.

Back in the last pandemic, lawsuits were filed by some religious groups because of  restrictions imposed in response to COVID-19. If the government imposes similar restrictions during a future pandemic, this will happen again. One  concern about such lawsuits is that churches were super spreaders of COVID-19. An interesting consideration is that while politicians have made a religious freedom issue out of the COVID restrictions, most Americans (including religious Americans) did not see these restrictions as a threat to religious freedom.  The issue is whether these sorts of pandemic restrictions violate religious freedom. I will focus on the moral issue and leave the legal issue to the lawyers.

As a starting point, religious freedom is not absolute and can be justly restricted in at least some cases. As a general argument, unrestricted freedom would restrict (or destroy) itself. To use a silly example, if religious freedom was absolute, then the religious freedom of a religion that wanted to restrict all other religions on religious grounds must also be respected. This is a reductio on the idea of absolute freedom (and one I stole from Thomas Hobbes). As such, religious freedom requires some restrictions on religious freedom. If so, then what we need to settle is the limit (or the extent) of religious freedom and see where pandemic restrictions fall.

Intuitively, we all probably agree that religious freedom should not allow people to engage in such things as murder, theft, rape, and genocide. So, if the Church of Murder, Rape and Robbery insisted they had the moral right to rob, rape and murder you on the grounds of religious liberty you would, I assume, disagree. And rightfully so. Sticking within a rights theory of ethics, your right to life and property would override their right to religious liberty. This rests on the notion that there is a hierarchy of rights, with some rights having more moral weight than others (among other factors). One could also use a utilitarian approach of the sort developed by Mill: if restricting religious liberty would create more positive value than negative value, then doing so would be morally right. While the members of the Church of Murder, Rape and Robbery would be unhappy about not being able to practice their faith on other people, the harm this would inflict outweighs their unhappiness.

I am not claiming that wanting a religious freedom exemption from pandemic restrictions is analogous to wanting the freedom to murder, rape and rob. My point is to establish that limiting religious freedom to protect other rights and to prevent harm can be morally acceptable. But this does not settle the specific issue of whether pandemic restrictions would violate religious freedom. Obviously, this will depend on the specific restrictions and the context.

One relevant factor is the intent of restrictions. If restrictions were created and applied intending to infringe on religious liberty, then that would be wrong. But even if the restrictions were created and applied with only benign intent, they could still violate religious liberty. To use an analogy, one might impose restrictions on high calorie drinks from a benign intent (to reduce obesity) and yet still be wrongly limiting freedom.  But there is no evidence that the past restrictions were created to harm religious liberty. As far as future restrictions go, they would need to be assessed.

Another relevant factor is consistency in restrictions. To illustrate, if religious gatherings were restricted because of the risk of people gathering, then fairness requires that standard be applied consistently. For example, if bars, restaurants, and movie theaters were allowed to operate normally while churches were limited, then there would a moral case that churches were being treated unfairly. The conclusion of such moral reasoning might, however, be that the bars, restaurants, and movie theaters should also be restricted rather than that the churches should not be restricted.

One can also make the essential service argument for churches. Grocery stores, car rental businesses and many government offices remained open because they were considered essential. The justification here is on utilitarian grounds: there would be more harm in closing them than keeping them open. To use the most obvious illustration, closing grocery stores and food delivery would result in starvation, so keeping these operating is morally acceptable. One cannot Zoom salad or download pizza.  But are large, in-person gatherings at churches essential during a pandemic?

Religious is obviously important, even essential to some people. That is not in dispute. What is in dispute is whether large, in person gatherings are essential to religion. That is, can people practice their religion without being able to gather closely in large numbers. To use an analogy, running is essential to me, but large road races were restricted during the pandemic. Could I practice my running without the large gatherings of races?

On the face of it, the answer is yes. Religious people could gather online, they could gather outside and space themselves, they could gather inside in small groups wearing masks, and so on. In the case of running, I can still run by myself, I can run with others by maintaining distance, and I can do virtual races. These do involve costs and inconveniences, but they all allow people to continue to practice the group aspects of religion (and running). The fact that most religious people did these things provides evidence that religion (and running) can be practiced while restrictions are in effect. This can, of course, be disputed on theological grounds—something I will leave to the theologians. But on the face of it these restrictions did not interfere with religious liberty in a way that is unfair, inconsistent, or unwarranted relative to other freedoms, like the freedom of running.  

If restrictions are applied consistently based on relevant factors such as gathering size, risk, being essential, and proximity, then the issue would become whether there should be a special religious freedom exemption from restrictions. The issue is thus whether religious freedom would allow a special exemption because religious people want to gather in ways that violate pandemic restrictions. If so, this means that there should be religious exemption in the case of public health. After all, they would not just be putting themselves at risk, they be putting everyone they contact at risk as well.

Imagine, if you will, that a person infected with Ebola insists on their religious freedom and demands they be allowed to go to church without restriction. This would be wrong: such a deadly disease could kill the others and then spread out into the community. While COVID-19 was not as lethal as Ebola, it is meaningfully dangerous. Other pandemics will come in varying degrees of lethality as well. If the next pandemic is more like COVID-19 than Ebola, perhaps it could be argued that churches should be allowed an exemption to operate normally.  Churches have the right to stay open in flu season, although this does put people at risk. But we would probably all agree that people infected with Ebola should not be allowed to freely go to church because they have religious freedom. So, it is a matter of how much risk is acceptable.

To use an analogy, we all probably agree that military grade flamethrowers should not be allowed for in-church use even if a church considers fire an important part of their services. This is because flame throwers would present a danger to the people in the church and could create a fire that would spread. But imagine a church that wants something less than flamethrowers: they just want their church to be exempt from the fire safety laws and regulations that other people must follow. They argue that their religion values fire, so being forced to have things like smoke alarms, working fire extinguishers and fire exits would violate their religious freedom to practice their faith. They also want to be able to use lots of fire in their services and want to a stock of flammable material on hand, stored in loose piles around the church, as their faith demands. They would argue that there is some risk, but it is relatively low compared to flame throwers. But, of course, they could easily set their church on fire and have it spread to all the nearby structures and burn them down (and hurt the people in them). While they could be argued to have a right to burn themselves and their church, their religious freedom would not seem to give them a right to put the nearby buildings (including other churches) and the people in them at such needless risk. They can, of course, have the fire needed for their faith, but it must be kept in a way that does not needlessly risk hurting other people. The same would seem to apply to pandemic restrictions and churches: they have the right to practice their faith, but they do not have the right to put others at risk while doing so.