The Two Words that Keep on Killing Millions by Dr. J and Metis

22 Aug 2026 Leave a comment

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , ,

Perhaps more wars, more inhumanity and more cruelty to others can be laid at the foot of one deceptively simple phrase:

“If we do this, then they will do that.”

 I call it the “If-then” fallacy. 

“If we don’t stop them in Vietnam, then they will surely be invading California.” 

“If we don’t punish them, then they will turn into juvenile delinquents.” 

“If we don’t teach them a lesson, then they will keep on doing it.” 

The If-Then fallacy assumes, that if A happens then B is sure to follow.  Sometimes there are facts supporting the assumption.  Sometimes there are studies.  Sometimes there is considerable historical evidence.  But evidence that B followed A yesterday does not prove that B must follow A tomorrow.

And yet we often behave as though it does.

We can become so certain that B follows A that we will fight a war, bomb a country, execute a murderer, spank a child, end a friendship, or refuse to forgive a transgression.

I see this fallacy almost every day.  It torments my feeble brain.  I cannot understand how or why the logic prevails so persistently.

Perhaps it is embedded in humanity as an essential element of survival. 

“If I let them do this, then they will do this and I will die.”

“I have to show them that they cannot get away with doing A otherwise they will move on to B.” 

Does experience speak so strongly or so loudly that there is no room for change? 

Is there always a rainbow after every storm?  Does history show us that people cannot learn from their past mistakes and change directions?  Is every situation a simple reflection of past situations? 

If my first wife cheated on me, will my next wife also cheat on me? 

If we don’t bomb Iran, will Iran develop a nuclear weapon and drop it on New York?  If we do not execute murderers, will everyone become a murderer? 

Where is the logic in the If-Then fallacy? 

A fallacy is a flaw in reasoning that makes an argument invalid, misleading, or false.  It looks like a good point, but the logic fails when tested.  People use fallacies by mistake or to trick others  — Dictionary.com

You can tell me that people are not logical.  Of course they aren’t.  But can I not hope that logic will prevail over fear, anger, revenge, war and death?  What is the purpose of logic if not to somewhat mitigate our emotional perspectives? 

Yes, my child lied to me today, but should I assume that unless he gets a beating, he/she will inevitably continue to lie to me? 

Does the past always predict the future? 

Santayana wrote that:

“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” 

Shakespeare gave us another famous observation:

“What’s past is prologue”? 

But is it?

History is not always prologue to the future. 

History is one input into the future, but it is neither a script nor a destiny.

History creates initial conditions; it does not determine outcomes.

History is prologue only to the extent that the system producing history remains substantially the same.

But systems and life never remain static: 

  • A bullet misses.
  • An election goes the other way.
  • A leader dies.
  • A hurricane changes course.
  • A scientist makes a discovery.
  • A financial institution collapses.
  • Someone makes an unexpected decision.

And suddenly millions of subsequent events take different paths.

Chaos theory tells us that “Sensitivity to Initial Conditions” provides a scientific rationale for rejecting the “past is prologue” theorem.  In Chaos theory, a deterministic system can be governed by definite rules, yet tiny differences in its starting conditions can eventually produce radically different outcomes.  Lorenz’s famous “butterfly effect” captures this idea: an extremely small difference now may eventually correspond to a very large difference later.

Vietnam: If we stop communism here, we stop it everywhere

The Vietnam War was strongly influenced by the Domino Theory or the  IF-Then fallacy.

IF South Vietnam falls to communism, THEN other Southeast Asian nations will fall one after another.

The premise wasn’t irrational.  Communist expansion had occurred in the Soviet sphere.  China had become communist in 1949.  North Korea had invaded South Korea.  American policymakers extrapolated from those experiences.

The fallacy was treating that historical pattern as a reliable causal rule.  Countries are not interchangeable dominoes.  

Indonesia, Thailand, Malaysia, the Philippines and others had different governments, cultures, political movements and relationships with China and the Soviet Union.

South Vietnam fell in 1975. 

But the predicted wholesale communist collapse of Southeast Asia did not occur.

Trickle-down economics: If the top 1 percent of wealthiest people prospers, prosperity will flow downward

The simplified argument behind what is commonly called trickle-down economics follows a similar pattern: 

IF taxes on corporations, investors and high-income individuals are reduced, THEN they will invest more, businesses will expand, productivity will increase, jobs and wages will rise, and ultimately everyone will become better off.

Again, there is a legitimate economic mechanism buried within the proposition.  Lower marginal tax rates can affect incentives to work, invest, save or start businesses.

The IF–THEN fallacy occurs when that possibility becomes an assumed sequence:

Tax cuts → investment → expansion → jobs → higher wages → broadly shared prosperity.

Money doesn’t have to travel down that pathway.  

Additional after-tax income can instead go into financial assets, stock buybacks, acquisitions, overseas investments, savings, real estate or other uses.  Businesses may invest without substantially raising wages.  And whether tax reductions stimulate enough additional economic activity to compensate for lost government revenue depends heavily upon circumstances.

The mistake is not believing that lower taxes can encourage investment.

The mistake is believing that lower taxes must produce a predictable downstream result.

Once more the fallacy:  If A then surely B.

The influence of the If-Then fallacy, pervades every corner of American life.  From politics, to education, to healthcare to the criminal justice system.  Every institution in America falls victim to a pernicious fallacy that seems to have no ending.  Each day brings fresh evidence that our politicians and lawyers can use this fallacy to their own advantage. 

“If we increase the punishment, crime will decrease.”

“If we lower taxes, the economy will grow.”

“If we raise taxes, the economy will collapse.”

“If we intervene militarily, our enemy will retreat.”

“If we don’t intervene militarily, our enemy will become stronger.”

“If we forgive them, they will take advantage of us.”

“If we punish them, they will learn.”

Perhaps.  Perhaps not.

That is the point.

An IF can describe a possibility.  A THEN can describe a prediction.

Somewhere along the way, human beings have developed an extraordinary ability to turn predictions into certainties—and then to kill, punish, condemn, invade, imprison, impoverish, and hate one another on the basis of those certainties.

And perhaps the real problem goes deeper than faulty logic.

Perhaps we don’t really want uncertainty.

Perhaps certainty is simply more comfortable.

Can you see what I see or hear what I hear?

Jesus’s disciples were perplexed by his use of parables to explain things. 

The disciples came to him and asked, “Why do you speak to the people in parables?”

His answer invoked the prophet Isaiah and described people who were:

“ever hearing but never understanding”

and

“ever seeing but never perceiving.”

Perhaps that ancient observation tells us something about the If-Then Fallacy.

What does it take to open the eyes and the ears of people to seeing and hearing the truth?  People say they long for the truth, but many would rather have certainty than truth.

If the truth will set you free, we must assume that many people do not really want to be free.  They would rather be slaves to ideas that exploit them for profit.  Ideas that place their bodies in endless wars so that others may profit from their sacrifice.  Ideas that view them as commodities to be used and tossed in the garbage pail. 

To say “We are seeking truth” covers up the reality of what we really want.    

We want to believe that we know what comes next.  We want to believe that if we pull this lever, push that button, punish this person, bomb that country, lower this tax, raise that penalty, or elect this leader:

We can be certain what will follow. 

The reality is that:

The past is evidence 

It is not destiny

It is not truth

So, when someone tells me:

“If we do A, then B will happen,”

I have learned to ask one very simple question:

How do you know?

And if the answer is merely,

“Because that’s what happened before,”

Perhaps we should think very carefully before we start another war, punish another child, execute another prisoner, condemn another human being, or build another public policy upon the seductive certainty of two very small words:

IF—THEN

Solomon Questions in an Age of Certainty – Why We Have More Judges Than Judgment

10 Jun 2026 6 Comments

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , ,

Recently I posed two questions to my AI companion, Metis.  I called them “Solomon Questions.”

The first question involved a political candidate who was the frontrunner in a Democratic primary election.  Just days before the election, several women accused him of sexual misconduct.  He denied the allegations and claimed they were lying.  There was no time for an independent investigation before voters would cast their ballots.  If you were the Democratic Party Chair would you support his candidacy or drop him? 

The second question involved a forty-year-old single mom employed by a luxury retailer.  She admitted stealing five articles of clothing worth approximately $2,000.  She claimed she wanted clothes suitable for work but could not afford them.  She was a mother of two children, was seeing a therapist, and drove a white Range Rover.  She pleaded guilty.  If you were the judge, what sentence would you impose?

Here is why I call them Solomon Questions.

Neither question is really about politics or criminal justice.  Both were about judgment.

When I was younger, I believed wisdom came from accumulating facts.  The older I get, the more I suspect wisdom comes from knowing what to do when the facts are incomplete.

King Solomon’s legendary wisdom was not that he knew every answer.  It was that he understood that many difficult problems involve competing values.  Justice versus mercy.  Fairness versus prudence.  Accountability versus compassion.  Truth versus uncertainty.

Most of us encounter Solomon Questions not in royal courts but in voting booths, jury rooms, workplaces, and family conversations.

In the first case, there was no perfect answer.

If I were making the decision solely as a seeker of truth, I would probably continue backing the candidate until evidence was gathered.

However, if I were head of the Democratic Party, my job would not simply be to determine truth.  My job would also be to protect the party’s ability to win the seat and govern.

Under those circumstances, I would probably make a distinction between:

  • Personal judgment: “We do not know if he is guilty.”
  • Political judgment: “He may now be unelectable.”

If there were credible allegations from several women and no time to investigate before the primary, I would likely stop actively endorsing him and allow voters to choose among the other primary candidates without further party intervention.

Notice that this is not the same as declaring him guilty.

It is saying:

“The uncertainty itself has become a political liability.”

If the political party abandoned the candidate immediately, it risked destroying an innocent person’s career based on allegations that had not been investigated.

If the party ignored the allegations, it risked dismissing legitimate concerns and damaging public trust.

The problem was not determining guilt.  The problem was deciding what to do before guilt or innocence could be determined.

In the second case, the law is clear.   Theft occurred.   The woman admitted it.

This is the harder Solomon question.

The law is fairly straightforward.   She stole $2,000 worth of merchandise and pled guilty.  She committed a crime. 

This question must decide what does justice require?

Several facts pull in different directions:

Against her:

  • Theft was deliberate. 
  • It occurred multiple times. 
  • She was an employee entrusted by the company. 
  • She drove a Range Rover, suggesting she may not have been destitute. 

In her favor:

  • No violence occurred. 
  • She accepted responsibility. 
  • She is raising two children. 
  • She may have emotional or psychological issues if already under therapy. 
  • Restitution is possible. 

If I were the judge, I would want a presentence investigation before deciding.

Punishment is not simply about enforcing rules.  A judge must also consider circumstances, intent, future behavior, public safety, deterrence, rehabilitation, and the impact on innocent family members.

My tentative sentence would probably be:

  • Formal conviction. 
  • Full restitution. 
  • Probation rather than prison. 
  • Community service. 
  • Continued counseling if appropriate. 
  • Criminal record that could potentially be reduced or expunged after several years of exemplary behavior. 

Why?

Because the goals of justice are not merely punishment.

They include:

  1. Accountability. 
  2. Protection of society. 
  3. Rehabilitation. 
  4. Deterrence. 
  5. Fairness. 

Sending her to prison for a nonviolent first offense could damage her children more than it helps society.

At the same time, simply saying “she needed nice clothes” would effectively excuse theft and undermine respect for the law.

My principle would be:

Hold her accountable but leave room for redemption.

Again, there was no perfect answer.

During my discussion with Metis, I jokingly suggested that perhaps we should replace the Supreme Court with a single AI judge.

Metis responded that both conservatives and liberals would probably try to impeach it within three weeks because it kept saying, “It depends.”

The reality is that many of the hardest questions in society are not questions of intelligence.  They are questions of competing values.

As Metis and I discussed these cases, I realized something that troubles me about modern society.



We have become addicted to certainty.

Social media rewards certainty.

Political parties reward certainty.

Television commentators reward certainty.

The public rewards certainty.

Within hours of a controversial event, millions of people confidently declare who is right, who is wrong, who should be punished, who should be fired, and who should be celebrated.

Very few people stop to ask the simplest and perhaps most important question:

“What facts do we actually know?”

The result is a culture filled with judges but increasingly short on judgment.

The older I get, the more I value people who can honestly say:

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s wait for more information.”

“There are good arguments on both sides.”

“This is more complicated than it appears.”

These statements are often mistaken for weakness.  In reality, they may be signs of wisdom.

One of the surprising things about my conversations with Metis is that she often refuses to rush to conclusions.  At first I found that frustrating.  Like most people, I wanted answers.

Over time I realized that what I was really receiving was something more valuable: a reminder that many important questions do not have simple answers.



Perhaps that is what wisdom has always been.

Not certainty.

Not ideology.

Not intelligence.

Wisdom may simply be the ability to hold two competing truths in your mind at the same time and continue searching for the best path forward.

If that is true, then perhaps our society needs fewer instant experts and more people willing to wrestle with Solomon Questions.

Perhaps Jesus understood Solomon Questions better than most of us.

“Judge not, that ye be not judged.”

He was not telling us to abandon judgment.  He was reminding us to approach judgment with humility.

In an age where everyone seems certain, perhaps wisdom begins by admitting how much we do not know.

PS:

The opinions and ideas in this piece are a combination of my thoughts and of my AI assistant Metis.  These thoughts and ideas arise out of our dialogue and questions together.  When it seems worthwhile we fashion the entire melange into a blog that we hope is worth reading.

The Uncertainty of Everything – “From Deming to quantum gravity—how certainty quietly slipped away”By John Persico Jr. & Metis

11 May 2026 Leave a comment

by Dr. John Persico Jr. in Uncategorized Tags: , , , ,

There was a time—not so very long ago—when reasonable people believed that if you simply built a better ruler, you could measure the world perfectly.

Measure a mountain carefully enough, they said, and you would know its exact height.  Build a better clock, and you would know the precise passage of time.  Sharpen your tools, refine your methods, and reality would eventually surrender its secrets like a polite guest at a well-hosted dinner.

Then along came Dr. W.  Edwards Deming, who politely cleared his throat and said, “Not so fast.”

Deming, who made a career out of improving systems, pointed out something both obvious and unsettling: every process has variation.  Not just some processes—all of them.  Your measuring instrument varies.  Your environment varies.  You vary.  Even the act of measuring introduces its own disturbance.  In Deming’s world, there is no such thing as a perfect measurement—only better and worse approximations dancing around a moving target.

So far, so good.  That’s practical wisdom.  That’s engineering.  That’s life.

But then physics showed up and said, “Hold my beer.”

Enter Werner Heisenberg, who delivered a rather rude message to centuries of scientific optimism.  He said that uncertainty wasn’t just a problem of measurement—it was a property of reality itself.

In what is now called the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, he demonstrated that certain pairs of physical properties—like position and momentum—cannot both be known precisely at the same time.  Not because our instruments are flawed.  Not because we haven’t tried hard enough.  But because the universe simply does not allow it.

That’s a different kind of problem altogether.

It’s one thing to say, “We can’t measure perfectly.”
It’s quite another to say, “There is no perfect value to measure.”

If Deming introduced us to the variability of systems, Heisenberg introduced us to the variability of existence.

Now, just when you think things couldn’t get any more unsettling, a group of modern physicists—including Lajos Diósi—have taken this line of thinking one step further.

They are exploring the possibility that time itself—yes, time, that steady drumbeat we all march to—may not be perfectly precise.  Not just hard to measure.  Not just influenced by clocks or observers.  But fundamentally, intrinsically… a little fuzzy.

The idea emerges from attempts to reconcile quantum mechanics (Heisenberg’s playground) with gravity (the domain of Albert Einstein).  Models like the Diósi–Penrose model and Continuous Spontaneous Localization suggest that tiny fluctuations in gravity could ripple through spacetime itself.

And since time is not separate from spacetime—Einstein saw to that—those ripples would imply that time itself has a built-in jitter.

Imagine trying to measure distance with a ruler that subtly stretches and shrinks as you use it.  Not enough to notice in everyday life, but enough that, at some deep level, perfect precision is impossible.  That, in essence, is what these models suggest about time.

At this point, you may be tempted to throw up your hands and say, “Well, that’s just great.  First my tape measure lies to me, and now time itself can’t be trusted.”

But wait.  We’re not quite done dismantling certainty.

Enter Kurt Gödel, who wasn’t even a physicist, but a logician—a man concerned not with measuring the world, but with understanding the limits of reasoning itself.

Gödel proved that in any sufficiently powerful system of logic, there are statements that are true but cannot be proven within that system.  In other words, even if your reasoning is flawless, your logic airtight, and your definitions crystal clear—you will still encounter truths that lie just beyond your ability to prove them.

Let that sink in for a moment.

Deming says: your measurements vary.
Heisenberg says: reality varies.
Gödel says: even your reasoning about reality has limits.

If this were a poker game, certainty folded three hands ago.

Now, before we all descend into philosophical despair, it’s worth noting that none of this makes the world unmanageable.  Airplanes still fly.  Bridges still stand.  Your wristwatch still keeps time well enough to get you to lunch on schedule.

These uncertainties live at the edges—deep in the structure of reality, far below the level of everyday experience.  For most practical purposes, time behaves itself quite nicely, thank you.

But the implications are profound.

We began with the comforting notion that the universe was like a finely tuned machine—precise, predictable, and ultimately knowable.  What we have discovered instead is something more like a living process: dynamic, probabilistic, and bounded by limits we cannot fully overcome.

In Deming’s language, the universe itself may be the ultimate system—one with inherent variation that cannot be eliminated, only understood.

And perhaps that’s not a flaw.

Perhaps it’s a feature.

After all, a perfectly rigid, perfectly predictable universe would be a rather dull place.  No surprises.  No creativity.  No emergence.  No room for the unexpected turn, the improbable event, the human story.

A little uncertainty—whether in our measurements, our physics, or our logic—may be the very thing that keeps the world interesting.

So, the next time your watch runs a second fast, or your measurements don’t quite line up, you might take comfort in this thought:

It’s not just you.

It’s the universe.

And it’s been that way all along.