Tango and Family Values

I raise chickens in my backyard. On cold winter days like these, they huddle together and tango—metaphorically speaking—to stay warm. For them, individualism is a luxury they can't afford. Their survival depends on mutual support, much like that of early human beings.

Sometimes I wonder: are modern humans really wiser than chickens? Why have we created ideologies—liberalism, individualism, feminism, capitalism, Darwinism, hegemonism—to rationalize selfishness, greed, oppression, and violence? Why are we so fixated on personal gain and individual rights, yet indifferent to the suffering of others? Why do we exploit, abuse, bully, deceive, and even kill our fellow human beings? Why do we accumulate far more than we need, even if it means depriving others? And why, gradually and perhaps unconsciously, have we abandoned the values that once unified and strengthened us as a species?

History reminds us that the darker sides of human nature can give rise to great evil. People are often led—sometimes unknowingly—into adopting ideas that harm both themselves and society. Perhaps we are living through such a time once again (see Pluralism vs. Monism).

And yet, I haven’t lost hope. I still see goodness in people—firefighters, Doctors Without Borders, and even tango dancers. I admire them because it takes courage and compassion to open your arms to others, to provide a supportive shoulder to those in need, and to live by the ethic of the good Samaritan. Tango was created by such people—immigrant men and women who were poor, lonely, and vulnerable, seeking connection in a foreign land, yearning to be loved—who hold compassion to others like themselves. Like chickens, they huddle and tango together to keep themselves warm in a cold world (see Why People Dance Tango).

I also find hope in parents who teach their children to love one another, to care for their siblings, and to work as a team. When such children grow up, they become responsible members of society. Evil prevails only when families fall apart, when family values are lost, when human bonds erode, when egoism dominates, and when materialism, individualism, feminism, racism, hatred, divorce, irresponsible sex, self-indulgence, and single-parent families become the norms.

But I don’t believe this path can last. We are part of nature, and nature’s laws will ultimately prevail over human constructs. Our survival as a species depends on our capacity for cooperation and solidarity—qualities embedded deep within us. As long as humanity exists, so will love, family, teamwork, and the values that bind us. Ideologies that promote division and selfishness—however powerful they may seem today—cannot endure.

Family will always remain the cornerstone of human civilization. Our shared desire to survive and our collective conscience reject what is harmful to society. In the end, we must thrive not as isolated individuals, but as a unified species. That’s why, in times like these, more and more people are turning to tango—a dance that connects us, that demands cooperation, that teaches us to love, and that embodies the very spirit of family values (see Tango Is the Search for a Dream).

Meeting in the Middle

For many, life is good. For many others, it is not. We all live in our own reality, shaped by unique experiences and perceptions. These differing perspectives lead us to adopt opposing positions—supporters versus opponents, liberals versus conservatives, reformers versus traditionalists, Democrats versus Republicans, and so on. Yet, as Guy de Maupassant wrote in his 1883 novel A Woman’s Life, “Life is never as good or as bad as one thinks.”

René Descartes famously declared, “I think, therefore I am” (Discourse on the Method). Human cognition is shaped by personal experiences and, as a result, tends to be partial and biased. In actuality, truth often lies somewhere between opposing views. This is why Confucius advocated for the doctrine of the mean—meeting in the middle—a principle of balance and moderation. Impartiality, avoiding extremes and seeking common ground, he believed, are the mark of a true gentleman (see Understanding China: Geography, Confucianism, and Chinese-Style Modernization).

Meeting in the middle is not only a method of thinking or an approach to life; it is also a civilized way to resolve conflicts. When opposing parties insist on their own terms, they inevitably reach a stalemate. But if both are willing to meet halfway, division gives way to dialogue. Compromise may not fully satisfy either party, but it creates a shared foundation for progress. This is, in fact, how nature itself evolves. The black tulip, as described by Alexandre Dumas in his 1850 novel The Black Tulip, did not emerge from its parent plants overnight but through generations of adaptation and refinement—a process of compromise.

Politicians often seek sweeping, once-and-for-all solutions, but real progress is gradual. Every compromise, however small, is a step forward. While no one may get everything they want, everyone benefits when we move forward together—by meeting in the middle.

What results can be something far greater. As Aristotle said, “The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” When individuals unite, they create outcomes far beyond their isolated contributions. A single stick breaks easily, but a bundle bound together is nearly unbreakable. In logical terms, the whole is a sufficient condition for its parts—but not the other way around. What benefits society as a whole benefits each individual; what benefits only the individual does not necessarily benefit society.

Individualism as an ideology is fundamentally flawed and as a political theory is anti-democratic. It aligns with the law of the jungle rather than the ideals of democracy (see Tango and Individualism). Those who insist solely on their own way, ignoring the needs of others, act not as citizens of a democracy but as autocrats. A democracy made up of such individuals cannot endure, as evidenced by the growing polarization, obstinacy, extremism, hostility, aggression, lack of restraint, uncooperativeness, and lawlessness in American society.

If we still hold that “all men are created equal” as a self-evident truth, if we still believe that a united and harmonious society serves the best interest of all, if we recognize our interdependence and the need for each other, and if we wish not to be disregarded by others—then we must consider others and not insist on having our own way.

Democracy is a government of the people, by the people, and for the people—not for the most forceful individuals. It relies on cooperation, not antagonism. It seeks balance, harmony, and the well-being of all, not the self-interest of a few. Democracy embodies the Golden Mean, not the law of the jungle. It requires that we resolve conflict through compromise, not through power or force. A democracy must educate its people on its principles.

If we truly believe in these democratic ideals, then meeting in the middle is not only sensible and civil—it is essential. It is the path of democracy—and the spirit of tango. Sadly, at present, we seem to be struggling—both in our politics and in our dance.

Tango and Individualism

In life, we all inhabit a range of roles—husband and wife, father and mother, president and vice president, center forward and linebacker, leader and follower. For any team to function well, these roles must be understood, respected, and fulfilled. When boundaries blur or are ignored, partnerships falter—whether in marriage, family, politics, sports, or tango.

True teamwork requires cohesion. Agreeableness was once celebrated as a virtue because it fostered unity and mutual understanding. Though each of us has personal preferences and perspectives, thriving as a team means prioritizing the common good, practicing empathy, and setting aside ego. A collective flourishes when its members see themselves not as isolated individuals but as integral parts of a greater whole. This calls for a shift from self-centeredness to shared awareness.

When individualism dominates a culture, the collective begins to suffer. In today’s America, self-interest and entitlement often take precedence over communal responsibility, leading to division and stagnation. Political gridlock reflects a deeper cultural shift—one marked by rigid ideologies, inflated egos, and a fading sense of shared purpose.

Liberalism, with its emphasis on personal freedom, has undeniably expanded human potential. But when individuals are seen as wholly independent and self-contained, we lose sight of our essential interdependence. Human rights should include not only individual liberties but also shared values like coexistence, equality, and cooperation. Unchecked individualism, however, elevates personal gain above social harmony, fostering rivalry, exploitation, and cultural fragmentation.

This trend is increasingly evident in our tango, where many dancers see themselves as independent performers rather than partners in a shared experience. Freedom is mistaken for a refusal to surrender; equality is confused with sameness. Traditional gender roles are often dismissed, leaving men hesitant to lead and encouraging women to emulate men. The classic close embrace gives way to open holds, prioritizing self-expression over connection. Inflated egos breed rivalries, and those seeking partners often find aloofness instead of camaraderie.

Yet despite our obsession with independence, we remain human—vulnerable, interdependent, and in need of one another. That’s why we return to tango: to reconnect, to experience intimacy and partnership, to co-create something greater than ourselves. But too often, these deep human needs are undermined by pride, self-absorption, and an unwillingness to compromise.

Tango places us in a relationship that challenges us to reconsider what it means to be human. It asks us to move beyond ego, to collaborate, to dance in harmony by respecting roles and embracing mutuality and agreeableness. These lessons extend far beyond the dance floor. We need political leaders who embody them—leaders who can unify us, bridge divides, rekindle a spirit of solidarity, and restore our ability to work as a team.

Only by embracing the spirit of tango—choosing connection over isolation and cooperation over self-interest—can our milongas and society become better places to dance and live—not only more harmonious, but more deeply human.

Mammonism

In the beginning, there was no money—only barter. Farmers, fishermen, and weavers exchanged goods directly to meet their needs. Over time, standard exchange ratios were established: three pounds of grain for two pounds of fish, or a foot of cloth. But barter was inefficient. A farmer might want fish, a fisherman might want cloth, and a weaver might want grain. This mismatch led to the invention of money—a universal medium that simplified trade.

At first, money took the form of widely desired goods like salt, cattle, or silk. People converted their products into these universally accepted items, then traded them for what they needed. A pound of salt, for example, could be exchanged for a foot of cloth, two pounds of fish, or three pounds of grain—based on the labor embedded in each. Eventually, precious metals became the dominant form of money due to their rarity, durability, portability, and divisibility.

Yet even metal coins proved cumbersome. Since money merely represents value, it need not be physical. Paper—lighter and more convenient—replaced metal. Later, electronic transactions rendered paper obsolete, giving rise to digital currency: numbers stored on computers and smartphones. Thus, money has evolved from a tangible good to a digital figure—an immaterial abstraction that has become the object of modern pursuit.

This transformation conceals a deeper delusion. Money is not wealth itself. Printing money or create virtual currency cannot make a nation richer. When a country over-issues currency, its value erodes. Without real products to anchor them, these numbers lose meaning—they become empty symbols, detached from substance.

In the beginning, wealth accumulation was limited. Physical goods couldn’t be stored in large quantities, so trade primarily met immediate, everyday needs. But money changed that. Unlike perishable goods, money could be hoarded, saved, and passed down through generations. With money, people could buy what they wanted—leading to the illusion that money was the true form of wealth. Some quickly realized they could make money without producing anything, simply by positioning themselves as intermediaries. Trade shifted from a matter of survival to a mechanism for building wealth. Once they had amassed enough capital, enterprising individuals began founding banks, using money itself to generate more money. Over time, the most astute minds abandoned manufacturing altogether, turning instead to commerce and finance—profiting by reselling others’ goods or manipulating financial instruments like loans and stocks.

Economic theories—mercantilism, financialism, neoliberalism—were crafted to justify this shift, promoting the idea that the purpose of economy is to generate profit, that markets alone should drive this process, and that trade and finance offer the fastest paths to wealth. Based on these theories, advanced countries started to outsource manufacturing to cheaper labor markets, redirecting their focus toward more lucrative trade and financial sectors. While this shift brought about superficial prosperity, it transformed production-based economies into ones dominated by commerce and finance. The resulting deindustrialization poses serious risks: it leaves nations vulnerable to foreign supply chains and, in times of war or sanctions, reveals the harsh truth that neither trade nor financial instruments can substitute for actual production capacity.

The pursuit of profit through trade opens the door to exploitation. Gains for one often come at another’s expense. Employers profit by underpaying workers whose labor generates far more value than their wages reflect. Wall Street thrives on complex instruments that exploit small investors. Insurance companies profit from low-risk clients. Lawyers receive hefty kickbacks for helping people win lawsuits. Pharmaceutical firms inflate drug prices. Hospitals charge exorbitantly for basic care.

I once visited a hospital for a minor skin condition. I was referred to a general practitioner, then to a lab, and finally to a dermatologist—who diagnosed eczema without even reviewing the test results. The prescribed cream cost $30 and worked. Yet the hospital bill totaled $800.

This way, while the nation's physical wealth does not increase, some people can make a lot of money through unfair trade. This practice undermines the core principle in trade. A fair exchange reflects the equivalent amounts of labor involved in producing the products. Because the exchange ratios of all products are interconnected, when one rises unjustifiably, it triggers a chain reaction of inflation—houses, cars, groceries, services—all become more expensive. The burden falls on honest working people. In today's America, 63% of the population cannot afford an unexpected $500 bill, while a tiny elite amasses unimaginable wealth from a rigged system.

Greed knows no bounds. Most crimes—whether detected or not—are driven by money. Even noble professions like education, medicine, and journalism have become profit-driven. Yet money respects no morality. Those who exploit others cleverly are rewarded; honest workers are left behind. As fairness erodes, so does the motivation for genuine labor, giving rise to moral decay and opportunism.

Once, a single income could support a family. Now, women must work alongside men to maintain the same standard of living. Feminists may celebrate this as empowerment, but in truth, it resembles coerced labor. As one woman put it: "More and more women work extremely hard to make money now. Society offers us less and less security. Security used to mean commitment and a helping hand crossing the street. Now it means money in your wallet and a fully charged phone. We dreamed of marrying men, only to become men ourselves."

When a society measures success by capital gains, allows oligarchs to hoard money, lets them influence laws and policies, grants them legal privileges, and exalts them as role models, the outcome is inevitable: a culture obsessed with getting rich quick. Corruption spreads. Inequality deepens. Society fractures. Natural resources are depleted, the environment ravaged, and the state becomes a cartel controlled by capital and special interests. Politicians grow ever more corrupt and shameless.

Capitalism—driven by profit and greed—may initially spur economic growth, but it ultimately leads to decay, corruption, and collapse. When an economy prioritizes profit over production, when it outsources manufacturing to cut costs, when it sacrifices quality for profit—as Boeing has shown, when it relies more on financial manipulation than on producing goods, when its main components are no longer farmers and industrial workers but bankers, consultants, and lawyers, when its GDP comes primarily from the service and financial sectors rather than production, collapse is not a question of if, but when.

Capitalism is the cancer of the modern world, which turns people into slaves to money. When money was invented, no one foresaw it would lead to such profound alienation. How to break free from this vicious cycle remains one of the most urgent questions facing modern thinkers. (See America Is in Big Truoble.)

Tolerance and Grit

In my free time, I relish the experience of fishing. While many people find joy in the serene beauty of nature, my true thrill comes when I feel the tug of a fish on the line. If the fish aren’t biting, the peaceful surroundings alone don’t satisfy me. Fish, however, can be quite unpredictable. Some days, I leave empty-handed, but on most days, I catch two or three in an hour. Then there are those exceptional days when the fish go wild, biting with unrestrained enthusiasm. Just cast your line, and they eagerly strike. In a matter of hours, you can reel in dozens. It’s these rare experiences that keep me hooked. On reflection, my passion for fishing is rooted in the anticipation. In truth, miracles don't happen every day.

Tango shares a similar allure. The elegant venue, soft lighting, smooth floor, enchanting music, and impeccable attire create a beautiful setting—but without the right partner, they amount to mere decoration. Then, one night, unexpectedly, you meet someone whose height, skill, musicality, temperament, and presence align perfectly with yours. As if fate has conspired to bring two souls together, you move in harmony, sharing a dance of seamless cooperation and individual expression. It is a revelation—transformative and unforgettable. From that moment on, you return to the dance floor again and again, hoping to capture that magic one more time. Yet, like in fishing, such encounters are rare. In my fourteen years of attending countless milongas, I have experienced this only a handful of times. Yet those few dances are enough to keep me coming back. Tango, like life, is the pursuit of a dream, and in both, miracles are rare.

We often forget that imperfection is life’s default setting. To truly enjoy life, we must find beauty in the ordinary. Voltaire once said: “What is tolerance? It is the consequence of humanity. We are all formed of fragility and error; let us pardon each other’s folly—this is the first law of nature.”

Yet, the pursuit of excellence is also inherent in our nature. Transcending the ordinary requires perseverance. It is through embracing routine, the mundane, and imperfections that we achieve greatness. So let us encourage ourselves to be resilient. Miracles may come—not as gifts of luck, but as quiet rewards of dedication.

Postscript

I wrote the above nine years ago. Since then, as my dancing has matured, so too has my experience. Most of the people I dance with now are seasoned dancers, and the extraordinary moments I once longed for have become more frequent. When two skilled dancers meet, even if they are strangers, magic can happen. That is the true beauty of mastery.

—February 22, 2025