Is Reality Optional? Thomas Sowell’s Sharp Warning Against Wishful Thinking

My copy, purchased in 1994

When it comes to thinking clearly and speaking pointedly about contemporary issues, there are few better minds than that of Thomas Sowell, an American economist, social theorist, and senior fellow at the Hoover Institution. He's widely regarded as one of the most influential conservative thinkers of the past half-century for his clear-eyed, data-driven critiques of liberal social policies and his emphasis on empirical reality over ideological wishful thinking.

In 1993, Sowell published a short but powerful collection of essays titled Is Reality Optional? And Other Essays. Don’t let the title fool you — this isn’t some abstract philosophy book. It’s a no-nonsense straight-talking takedown of the idea that we can simply ignore reality when it doesn’t fit our favorite theories.

If you step off the roof of your house there will be consequences, whether you believe in the law of gravity or not. So, too, there are laws of economics, which we ignore to our own peril.

Sowell’s central argument is blunt: too many intellectuals, activists, and politicians treat reality as optional. They believe that with enough good intentions, clever policies, or bold social engineering, we can reshape human nature, fix complex problems, and create a better world — even if the evidence says otherwise.
He contrasts two very different ways of looking at the world. One vision (which he calls the “unconstrained” or visionary view) sees humans as highly malleable. If society has problems, it must be because of bad institutions or not enough compassion. The solution? Big government programs and new theories to remake everything.
The other view (the “constrained” or tragic vision) is more realistic. It says human nature has built-in limits — scarcity, self-interest, imperfect knowledge, and trade-offs. Good policy, Sowell argues, must work with these limits instead of pretending they don’t exist.
A quote on the back cover (of my copy) captures the problem perfectly:

““Much of the social history of the Western world, over the past three decades, has been a history of replacing what worked with what sounded good. In area after area—crime, education, housing, race relations—the situation has gotten worse after the bright new theories were put into operation. The amazing thing is that this history of failure and disaster has neither discouraged the social engineers nor discredited them.” (EdNote: This was more than three decades ago, and the trend has continued unabated.) 

Sowell points to real-world examples in crime, education, welfare, housing, and race relations. Again and again, “bright new ideas” were tried, problems got worse, and yet the people pushing those ideas rarely faced any consequences. 
He repeatedly warns against what he calls “intellectual hubris” — the dangerous belief that experts know better than millions of ordinary people making decisions in their own lives. Sowell stresses the importance of empirical evidence and common sense (which, as they say, is as rare as the dodo). Start with observable facts and historical results, not beautiful-sounding theories.
At just 192 pages, Is Reality Optional? is short, readable, and often contrarian. Sowell writes like a man tired of watching the same mistakes get repeated while reality keeps sending the bill.
In a world full of grand ideological promises, Sowell reminds us of a simple truth: reality is not optional. You can ignore scarcity, incentives, trade-offs, and human nature for a while — but eventually, they push back.
Here are a few quotes that will give you the flavor of Sowell's ideas.

On Economics vs. Politics

“The first lesson of economics is scarcity: There is never enough of anything to satisfy all those who want it. The first lesson of politics is to disregard the first lesson of economics.”

On Faith Masquerading as Science

“Some things must be done on faith, but the most dangerous kind of faith is that which masquerades as ‘science.’”

On Forgiveness and Being Right

“People will forgive you for being wrong, but they will never forgive you for being right—especially if events prove you right while proving them wrong.”

A few more notable quotes from the book:

--“Ordinary people, lacking that gift [of ignoring reality], are forced to face reality.”

--“The welfare state is the oldest con game in the world. First you take people’s money away quietly, and then you give some of it back to them flamboyantly.”

--“It takes considerable knowledge just to realize the extent of your own ignorance.”  

Recommended: Thomas Sowell, who was born in 1930, is still alive and kicking. YouTube has a treasure trove of videos that will give you an opportunity to engage directly with Sowell's ideas. His brain is stuffed with truckloads of facts from a lifetime of research, facts that often remain buried because they fail to fit the Progressive narrative.

When Progressives Behave Like Luddites

The Luddites and the Curious Meaning of “Progressive”

In the early 1800s, a group of English textile workers began smashing machines. These workers became known as the Luddites, supposedly named after a mythical figure called Ned Ludd. Between 1811 and 1816, bands of workers broke into factories at night and destroyed mechanical looms and knitting frames.

To a certain extent their fear was understandable. The Industrial Revolution was transforming the textile industry, and new machines allowed factory owners to produce cloth faster and cheaper than skilled craftsmen working by hand. Many workers believed the machines would destroy their livelihoods. In protest, they attacked the technology itself.

History, however, remembers the Luddites not as heroes but as a cautionary tale. The machines they tried to stop did not disappear. Instead, industrialization accelerated, creating entirely new industries, jobs, and living standards that were unimaginable at the time. The lesson many historians have drawn is simple: technological progress is disruptive, but trying to stop it rarely works—and often leaves communities worse off.

Which brings us to an irony in today’s political language.

In modern politics, the term “progressive” is commonly used by people who see themselves as champions of social progress and innovation. Yet on issue after issue—artificial intelligence, data centers, energy infrastructure, biotechnology, and even housing development—the loudest opposition often comes from the very groups that use the word progressive to describe themselves.

Meanwhile, conservatives are frequently portrayed as the ones who resist change and cling to the past.

The labels can feel oddly reversed.

If progress means improving productivity, expanding knowledge, and building technologies that make life easier and more prosperous, then resisting those developments begins to look less like progress and more like modern-day Luddism.

The Luddites feared the machines of their era because they could only see what might be lost. What they could not see was the world those machines would eventually help create.

Two centuries later, the same tension remains. Every generation must decide whether it will shape technological change—or try to halt it. History suggests the wiser course is to guide innovation, not fear it.

* * * * *

PostScript: This week a friend shared a video of Bernie Sanders calling for a moratorium on all A.I. development because it is advancing too quickly. But these technologies have been emerging gradually for decades. The practical problem with moratoriums is obvious: once a pause is declared, who decides when it is safe to start again? And in a competitive global economy, would countries such as China agree to stop developing these technologies at the same time?

 

Related Link
See my 2011 blog post, Return of the Luddites.

Illustration: Public Domain, creator unknown

My Take on LBJ, the Rob Reiner Film now on Netflix

When I saw LBJ show up on Netflix I assumed it to be a new film about our 36th president. After a couple recommendations I decided to watch it. I was surprised to learn at the outset that this was a Rob Reiner film, surprised only because of his recent passing. I then assumed it must have been his last film, but nope. LBJ, starring Woody Harrelson as the gritty Texas senator who became our 36th president, was released in 2016. 

Those familiar with Rob Reiner know that he was a political activist who used his celebrity status to bring attention to equal rights and social issues. In this film, Reiner exercised great restraint and allowed the story to tell the story. Besides being an up close and personal profile of Lyndon Baines Johnson, it's essentially the story of how the 1964 Civil Rights Act was passed into law.

Having dabbled with Hollywood screenwriting, I'm always intrigued by how a director chooses to tell a story. I've read numerous books that were translated to celluloid over the course of a lifetime. From Planet of the Apes to The Godfather to No Country for Old Men, many of these books have become film classics. Others, Like Bonfire of the Vanities and Ironweed, were disasters, despite the A-Team casts and the highly praised novels they inhabited.

As regards LBJ, Reiner knew he had his lead in Woody Harrelson. And the script itself was good, beginning with the choreographed events of that fateful visit to Dallas on November 22, 1963, interspersed with flashbacks highlighting LBJs character and the times he lived in as he rose to power.

The film centers on LBJ's complex role in pushing forward the Civil Rights Act amid personal insecurities, political rivalries (especially with Bobby Kennedy), and the weight of national tragedy. 

Woody Harrelson delivers a standout performance as Lyndon B. Johnson. When the film opened, my thought was, "That's Woody Harrelson acting like LBJ." But as the film played out I was surprised how effectively Harrelson "became" LBJ.

All movie making involves trade-offs and risks. The actors playing John and Bobby Kennedy were "adequate" but how much money do you want to spend to make every actor a replica of the characters they played. The important ones to get right were LBJ and "Lady Bird."

Harrelson captures LBJ's larger-than-life personality: the crude, profane, arm-twisting Texan wheeler-dealer with a mix of ambition, vulnerability, and genuine commitment to civil rights. His portrayal is energetic, entertaining, and often vivid, bringing the "Master of the Senate" to life through barking commands, colorful obscenities, and moments of raw emotion. Jennifer Jason Leigh was solid as Lady Bird Johnson, adding warmth and grounding to the story and providing a foil where Lyndon's insecurities could be shared.

The film made me wonder what other presidents' insecurities might have been and to whom they shared them. 

The screenplay keeps things focused on a pivotal few years, beginning with JFK winning the nomination at the Democratic Convention. I'd forgotten that part of the story when I read Theodor White's The Making of a President 1960. What I recall most from White's account was the degree to which the Kennedys were organized and the dirty tricks they play on Humphrey to impede his campaign. 

Johnson wanted that opportunity to head the ticket and had the foresight to see that the Kennedy clan was aiming for dynasty, not just an election. 

The film emphasizes not only Johnson's political maneuvering, but his post-assassination determination to honor Kennedy's legacy by passing civil rights legislation. It's a sympathetic portrait of LBJ, painting him as an under-appreciated pragmatist who rises to the occasion. 

Critics described it as pedestrian or by-the-numbers, with a mixed reception: Rotten Tomatoes gives it a 55% critics score (average around 5.7/10) and a more favorable audience rating, while Metacritic sits at 54/100. For me, it was a refreshing look at a president I've not had the highest regard for due to his aggressive insertion of our nation no the Southeast Asia conflict known as Vietnam, among other things.

Overall, LBJ is a solid, watchable historical drama elevated by Harrelson's committed, entertaining adaptation of the persona. It's not groundbreaking, but it offers an insight into a transformative moment in American politics. We've all read much about the Kennedy assassination from a hundred perspectives, but I can't recall seeing or reading about that day from the perspective of the man whose life was most dramatically impacted by the events of that day.