Extremists Lack Passion.

A “moderate” toast to the world.

Image: “Portia Wounding her Thigh,” by Elisabetta Sirani (1664).

“.הַדֶּרֶךְ הַיְשָׁרָה הִיא מִדָּה בֵּינוֹנִית שֶׁבְּכָל דֵּעָה וְדֵעָה מִכָּל הַדֵּעוֹת שֶׁיֵּשׁ לוֹ לָאָדָם”

“The straight path is a midpoint of each trait from all the traits a person has.”

— Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Deot 1:4

Here’s to the dynamism and creativity of the capitalist free market, which has vastly enriched most of the world compared with the past, and credibly promises innovation and abundance in the future.

And here’s to the values of justice and solidarity that animate the socialist vision — from each according to his ability, to each according to his need.

Here’s to the comfort, effervescence, and pride of patriotism. And here’s to the curiosity, courage, and delight of being a citizen of the world.

Here’s to celebrating sex and openly displaying the beauty of the human form. And here’s to the wisdom, discipline, and hidden beauty of living and dressing with modesty.

Here’s to a quiet pond in a valley in the middle of the woods in Vermont. Here’s to the Upper West Side of Manhattan.

Here’s to liberation; here’s to tradition. Here’s to loyalty; here’s to independence. Here’s to nuance; here’s to simplicity. Here’s to speaking out; here’s to silence. Here’s to speed; here’s to patience. Here’s to building wealth; here’s to sufficing with what we have. Here’s to colonizing Mars; here’s to maintaining ancient cathedrals. Here’s to books; here’s to memes. Here’s to pessimism; here’s to hope. Here’s to sincerity; here’s to slapstick.

To the ludicrously narrow specialists and to the absolute generalists; to the avant-garde and to the popularizers; the peaceniks and the warriors; the epicureans and the ascetics; the misers and the spendthrifts; the rebels and the normies; the Left and the Right; the artists and the pedants; the rationalists and the mystics; the freethinkers and the believers — here’s to them all.

Just imagine being cold to any of this. Imagine being so stunted, so cramped, so numb, that you can’t — or so bitterly committed to one monolithic view of the world that you won’t — awaken real passion in your heart for both sides of each and all these dualities.

The so-called “moderate” is not lukewarm; he burns brightly in all directions. He can hear all of the music, even as so many around him are half-deaf.

Here’s to the extremists, who cannot hear one another, and make life interesting — and here’s to the moderates, who can hear everything, and make life work.