Book Reviews

Review of National Treasure

Book Author: Michael Auslin

tags: history, philosophy, politics 

The history of the Declaration is not simply the history of a revolution, but rather, the revolution of history. Tracing the ideological antecedents and consequents of the Jeffersonian ideals of constitutional republicanism is by no means an easy task, yet, in an admirable way, the author succeeds in doing so.

Moving quickly through the founding era, the author does stop long enough to give a proper evaluation of just where the ideas embodied in this radical document proceeded from. Looking briefly at the history of Enlightenment thought, as well as the Judeo-Christian and Greco-Roman principles which would have been known and shared by the founders, Auslin moves forward, uncovering little-known details, such as the location of this document during the War of 1812, when the British sacked Washington. Feared lost, this founding document was moved, removed, and then moved again throughout our nation’s history, and the parallels between the unmooring of the physical location of the document and the unmooring of the ideas which it embodies form a striking theme of this book. While bureaucrats and politicians in Washington fought over the location of the document, ideologues from both North and South fought over the meaning of this document. Was freedom real? And if so, did it apply to all, or only to an elite few, or those pertaining to a certain racial group? Indeed, when analyzed literally, Auslin decides, the Declaration itself gives us the answer. Perhaps Jefferson and other founders failed to live up to the high ideals proclaimed in 1776, yet that fact alone does not negate the principles themselves. If anyone wants to deny that all men are created equal, Auslin concludes, it is far easier to deny that the Declaration is valid than it is to deny that the Declaration’s writers meant what they said. The answer, then, could not be more obvious: the question is not over differing interpretations of the Declaration, but over the Declaration or no declaration at all.

He then moves on to the next two hundred and fifty years of the document’s existence, documenting both the history and conservation efforts of the actual document—a portion of the book which I honestly found to be dry and overly repetitive—and, simultaneously, how the Lockean ideals of the Declaration were either kept or abandoned by the figures of main importance in our nation’s long, bloody, but ultimately redeeming history.

The chronological order is, at times, confusing, with the author jumping back and forth in time, and it is easy for the reader to become lost with regard to the place of a certain narrative in the overall thesis of the book. Yet the message presented herein is a unified one overall, with a clear, defensible thesis. Something to admire is the fact that Auslin does not seek to hide the explicitly Christian origins of the Declaration, while also giving a fair, balanced look at the other side. This is the part of the book which the reader will most appreciate; indeed, for the reader’s sake, it is easy to wish that Auslin had focused more on the ideological side and less on the physical proportions of the symbolic parchment. Yet, for literary purposes, this is not so, and I can understand that the author intended to weave together both the tangible and the transcendent.

An idea as revolutionary as the declaration that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, and that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness (or property, depending on whether you ask Jefferson or Locke), does not stay in one time period. The idea continues to evolve, never losing its original force or moral clarity. Instead, it becomes a living standard by which successive generations have measured themselves, sometimes faithfully, sometimes selectively, and often uncomfortably. Auslin traces how this idea was invoked by abolitionists, expanded by Lincoln, appealed to by suffragists, and later reinterpreted by civil rights leaders, judges, and politicians, all of whom claimed the Declaration as their own inheritance. In doing so, he demonstrates that the Declaration has functioned less as a relic encased in glass and more as a moral compass, one that has repeatedly drawn Americans back to first principles even when the nation strayed far from them. For all of those who have not yet encountered Michael Auslin, this is my exhortation: your ignorance of such a principled and thought-provoking historian should come to an end. When you conclude the reading of this book, you will emerge substantially wiser, substantially stronger in your principles, and substantially more prepared to render persuasive arguments for just why our nation is so abnormal and exceptional.

Review Written by C. A. Gerber

April 11th, 2026

Review of Destiny of the Republic

Book Author: Candice Millard

tags: history 

A man condemned to die by the bullet of an assassin—or by the scalpel of a doctor. Such is the question posed in this new, groundbreaking work on one of the lesser-known tragedies in American history, one which, nonetheless, had a profound influence on the direction which the nation would take. It is easy for us to remember the stories of John Wilkes Booth at Ford’s Theatre at the end of the Civil War, for we grew up hearing the tragic story of Lincoln’s assassination. The assassination of John F. Kennedy, the first Catholic president and the youngest to be elected, also very much remains with us, for there are many individuals who can still remember the terrible scene from Dallas. Even the assassination of William McKinley, shot down at a Buffalo exposition by an anarchist, an event which enabled McKinley’s forty-two-year-old Vice President, Theodore Roosevelt, to ascend to the presidency, is part of the social imaginary, certainly more than the story which author and historian Candice Millard undertakes to tell: that of the assassination of James A. Garfield, killed less than twenty years after Lincoln and almost twenty years to the date before McKinley.

First, let me say that I had previously watched the documentary Murder of a President, which is loosely based on this book. Thus, the details herein were by no means shocking to me, as they may be to someone who is unfamiliar with the story of Garfield and his assassin. Yet that is not to imply that I was well acquainted with the more obscure details of this drama, details which Millard captures with near perfection in their historical context, while not forgetting the larger picture. For me, then, this book may have been a bit redundant; yet, remarkably, it was not, and that is something which I am obliged to recognize as the author’s unique talent.

Millard understands that, to understand the fullness of the tragedy, it is also necessary to understand the character of the man who was murdered. James Garfield was not your typical politician. He was a self-made man, a man who had taken job after job to achieve his dream of going to college. He was a hero in the military as well, having served in the Civil War. Finally, he was both a family man and a man of a deep and abiding faith in God. Having gone to the 1880 Republican Convention in order to nominate Senator John Sherman, Garfield, following a deadlocked race between James G. Blaine and former President Ulysses S. Grant—Sherman was not even a notable contender—rose to give a speech on behalf of his fellow Ohioan, and instead found himself being nominated as the dark horse compromise candidate between the Stalwart Grant supporters and the more reform-minded Blaine advocates.

This unlikely story had an unlikely and tragic ending, as the title of the book well shows; yet Millard also goes on to illustrate how, in his few months in office, James Garfield was far from mediocre. Rather, as a talented individual who loved his country and desired to do everything in his power to help her, it would be this determination to remain, as always, an honest man—a man of the people—which would incite the horrific act of violence that would end with his death.

Through these pages, Millard brings to life the character and personality of Garfield, as well as of other principal players: James G. Blaine, the main contender for the presidency in 1880, appointed by Garfield as Secretary of State, still has his eyes on the presidency, and yet is increasingly loyal to Garfield. Roscoe Conkling, the New York Senator renowned for his womanizing and corrupt backroom deals, is determined to bring Blaine down and is willing to do anything in his power, including political suicide, to do so. Finally, the deranged lunatic Charles J. Guiteau, having lived his entire life convinced that he was created by God for a higher purpose, and believing, incorrectly, that his purpose was to secure the election of James Garfield, soon came to believe that he had been denied his just reward for the part he played in the election.

As chilling as it is absurd, this is the story of how Charles J. Guiteau, who had spent years in the cultish orbit of the Oneida Community, came to believe that his mission to assassinate the President of the United States was not only necessary but divinely commanded. Thus, on a summer morning in 1881, at the junction of the Baltimore and Potomac Railroads, the bullets which were fired would bring the nation to a standstill.

Even so, it was not these bullets which would spell doom for the injured President. This, and not the moments leading to the assassination, is where the drama truly begins to unfold, as Alexander Graham Bell, the world-renowned inventor of the telephone, struggles feverishly to invent a metal detector capable of finding the bullet inside Garfield’s system. Charles J. Guiteau, still deranged, is captured, yet unrepentant, and believes that he will soon be hailed as the hero, just as Booth did with Lincoln. Chester A. Arthur, the puppet of Conkling selected by the Republican Party as Garfield’s Vice President, is terrified that Garfield will die and send him to the pinnacle of power, and is torn between his allegiance to Conkling and his conscience. Finally, Doctor Willard Bliss, the doctor who attended Lincoln and who has now decided that he, and he alone, will save the new President’s life, yet still refuses to believe the scientific discovery of colleague Joseph Lister, which has the potential to save Garfield’s life.

The genius of the story is in making the characters come to life and then killing them. The personalities, the thoughts, and the actions are meticulously explained without losing sight of the larger picture. Millard does an expert job in weaving it all together into one central narrative thrust, all the while conserving the separate plot lines without confusing the reader. Easy to read, easy to enjoy, this is one of the greatest modern works in the field of American history, and certainly, it is the authoritative account on the life and the death of this unknown American hero.

Review of How To Test Negative for Stupid

Book Author: John Kennedy

tags: politics 

A defense of candor as a political weapon against obfuscation—or, to say it in plain English, say what you want to say and don’t give a rip about what anyone else thinks.

From the very title, John Kennedy makes it clear right away what his intention with this book is, and what it is not. Unlike many other biographies, he is not trying to give an exhaustive autobiography or an analysis of every policy choice he has made in nearly a decade serving in the United States Senate. It is more of a comedy book, though certainly one tinged with personal bias: at once charmingly blunt and incredibly provocative, it is a collection of anecdotes, observations, and lessons from a lifetime of public service, combined with searing one-liners designed to expose the absurdities of modern political life.

If you have heard Senator Kennedy speak, you are unlikely ever to forget him; that said, speech alone does not make a great senator, or even a decent man. Although this book is more concerned with landing a punch or producing a laugh than with creating a unified and sustainable political argument, perhaps that is good; perhaps that is what is needed in a Washington, D.C., clogged with career politicians.

In a sense, this reads like any other political autobiography: the senator is immensely self-serving and will rarely admit his own failures unless it suits the purpose of comedy. He is also determined not to criticize those in authority over him at this particular time, though that does not mean he refrains from poking fun at them. The senator’s style is blunt and sometimes coarse, as all will acknowledge. The language in this book is not the language used by a fifth-grade Sunday school teacher—though Kennedy himself is a Sunday school teacher, a devout Christian, and a man who founded a local Presbyterian church.

It is also hard to pin down Kennedy’s exact philosophy in the political realm. He seems to be a jack-of-all-trades in this regard: some populism, some traditional conservatism, and certainly some more libertarian arguments. Neither does he fit neatly into the isolationist or interventionist camps, and he has strong words for both Rand Paul, the contemporary isolationist in the U.S. Senate, and his friend Senator Lindsey Graham, who, Kennedy states, has resolved not to be part of the problem, but rather “to be all of the problem.” It is quotes like these that make this a memorable book, quite aside from the possibility that it may serve as a steppingstone for announcing his candidacy for some future office. “The brain is a remarkable organ,” he believes. “It lasts a man from the moment of conception until the moment he is elected to the U.S. Senate.”

By the former paragraph, I do not mean to give the impression that Kennedy is unphilosophical or inconsistent in his presuppositions. On the contrary, while discussing his opportunity to study at Oxford, Kennedy states that he has been profoundly shaped by the philosophy and theology of C. S. Lewis, whom he quotes several times throughout. He also makes arguments using terms drawn from Martin Heidegger, Jean-Paul Sartre, and, certainly, many of the Founders.

Yet this raises a deeper question: is candor, by itself, virtuous? Certainly, the ability to cut through nonsense and convoluted politics is admirable, but when the nonsense is stripped away, what then remains? Bluntness without depth can become its own kind of error, replacing careful reasoning with applause lines. I am not certain that this is the effect of Kennedy’s words; that may not be known for some time. Yet, when reading this book—as all those invested in the political process should—it is vital to remember this point: that wisdom is better than jewels, and depth better than satire.

Review Written by C. A. Gerber

April 8th, 2026

Review of Masculine Christianity

Book Author: Zachary M. Garris

tags: culture, Christian 

There is a crisis in the Western church, and Zachary M. Garris is not interested in beating around the bush. In Masculine Christianity, Garris makes the case that the church's slow accommodation to feminist ideology has not been a neutral cultural adjustment; it has been a theological surrender, one with consequences that ripple outward from the pulpit into the home and society at large. It is a bold argument, and one that deserves to be taken seriously.

Garris’s central contention is straightforward: God has not left men and women without direction. Scripture speaks clearly about the distinct roles, responsibilities, and authorities given to each sex, and the church’s drift away from these teachings has not made it more loving or more relevant; it has made it weaker. Masculine Christianity is, at its core, a call to recover what was never supposed to be lost.

What makes this book worth reading is that Garris does not treat masculinity as a cultural preference or a personality type. He roots it in theology. The authority a husband exercises in his home, the leadership a man provides in his church, and the responsibility he bears in society—these are not artifacts of a bygone era to be quietly retired. They are divinely ordained structures, and abandoning them has costs. Garris is right to press this point, and he does so with clarity and conviction rather than apology.

The book is also refreshingly honest about the scope of the problem. This is not merely a matter of a few liberal congregations going astray. Garris identifies the embrace of feminist assumptions as widespread across evangelical and even ostensibly conservative church culture. The softening of male headship, the sidelining of male leadership, and the reframing of biblical gender roles as culturally conditioned rather than scripturally grounded—these trends have touched nearly every corner of the Western church. The diagnosis feels accurate, and that accuracy is itself valuable. You cannot address a problem you are unwilling to name.

On the positive side of the ledger, Garris is equally clear. The alternative to a feminized church is not a caricature of domineering men barking orders; it is men who take their God-given responsibilities seriously—men who lead their families with love and intentionality, men who step into their churches not as passive attendees but as engaged shepherds and servants, and men who understand that authority and sacrifice are not opposites but are bound together in the biblical vision of manhood.

The principles he articulates—the complementarity of the sexes, the headship of the husband, the importance of male leadership in the church, and the social consequences of getting gender wrong—are not novelties. They are historic Christian beliefs, confessed and practiced across centuries and traditions, before the present moment of confusion set in. Garris’s project is essentially restorative, and there is something deeply sensible about that. The answer to theological drift is not innovation; it is return.

Readers looking for a thorough academic treatment of every relevant passage or a deep engagement with opposing scholarship will want to supplement this volume with additional resources. But that is not entirely what Garris is after. Masculine Christianity functions more as a clarion call than an exhaustive systematic treatment, and on those terms it succeeds. It is direct, blunt, and readable, and it arrives at a moment when directness is badly needed.

The church does not need another round of accommodation. It does not need to find more comfortable language for timeless truths or more palatable framings for unpopular doctrines. What it needs is what Garris is calling for: the willingness to take Scripture at its word, to trust that God’s design for men and women is not a liability but a gift, and to build accordingly. Masculine Christianity makes that case with urgency and conviction.

For readers who sense that something has gone wrong in how the modern church talks about men, women, and gender—and who suspect the answer lies not in further revision but in faithful recovery—this book is well worth your time.

Review Written by Gabriel Herrmann

March 30th, 2026

Review of First Principles

Book Author: Thomas E. Ricks

tags: history, philosophy 

Is it possible to remake the founders in the image of progressive liberalism? In this book, purportedly focusing on the Greeks and the Romans but using almost any excuse to move away from the actual influence of the former to illustrate examples of the founders as modern-day, anti-populist progressives focused on social welfare, author Thomas E. Ricks attempts to recast the debate of constitutionalism versus progressivism as a debate between constitutionalist progressivism and populist conservatism.

Although the author is talented and clearly understands the Greco-Roman world deeply, and although his writing style is both clear, informative, and intriguing, the opinions which he presents as facts make this book both unreliable and intellectually frustrating. He discounts, as an example, any religious influence on the founders, presenting them as thoroughly secular deists skeptical of organized religion and worshipping instead the goddess of what he labels “virtue,” as seen in the Greco-Roman world. To be clear, there is nothing wrong, per se, with his representation of the civilization of antiquity. His descriptions of Cicero, Cato, and Cincinnatus are enlightening; the problem is when he makes the startling claim not that these figures played a role in the lives of the Founders, but that nothing else did. Straining against the historical narrative, Ricks recasts the revolutionary period not as a conflict between monarchical belief and natural rights, which indeed it was, but rather as a conflict between the force of progress, which he paints in an almost Hegelian way, and the populist frenzy which he claims dominated the next century, in contrast to the founders’ desires.

Furthermore, interspersed within the narrative is a social commentary on today’s political arena which makes unsubstantiated claims, such as the assertion that white supremacy is both alive and thriving, and the claim that the current presidency of Donald Trump is comparable to the treason of Aaron Burr and something which the founders, although providing for it, would have dreaded. Also adding his personal opinion that the welfare state would have been wholeheartedly endorsed by the Founding Fathers, he makes claims about their perceptions of morality, such as asserting that they supported homosexuality and that it was only later, with the advent of religious fervor in the nineteenth century, that this came to bear a moral stigma, a claim which ignores both the religious context of the founders and the actions of the government of the time.

The richness of the Founders’ moral, philosophical, and theological influences—including the pervasive role of Protestant Christianity, Enlightenment notions of natural law, and classical republican ideals—is flattened into a single narrative of secular virtue and administrative foresight. This book illuminates the past only insofar as it is bent to mold the present; it is accurate only insofar as it can be contorted to fit the author’s preconceived worldview. While Ricks certainly quotes scholarly authorities such as Gordon Wood and Arthur Herman, giving a rich intellectual background to the founders in that they were influenced by both Scottish realism and English empiricism—though, interestingly, not English constitutionalism—Ricks quotes the founders themselves only selectively, refusing to even consider any religious or ethical considerations beyond an abstract Greek sense of virtuous living, something which, incredibly, Ricks pairs with Epicurean pleasure.

Ultimately, while informative, this book fails to achieve the mark of a serious critique or elaboration on the lives and ideas of the founding generation. The author, at the outset, has an evident bias against certain founders, such as Adams, and ignores potential critiques, circumventing them with quotes taken out of context. Additionally, although bias is an irreducible part of human nature, the excessive use of modern examples to illustrate past problems is both distracting and untrustworthy. It saddens me not to be able to give this book approved status, yet the central claims invalidate the benefits that the reader may obtain from a purely informative viewpoint.

Review Written by C. A. Gerber

March 29th, 2026

Review of Extreme Ownership: How U.S. Navy SEALs Lead and Win

Book Author: Jocko Willink and Leif Babin

tags: leadership, business 

Are we required to take responsibility for those things which are not our fault? According to the authors of this book, if we want to succeed, then the answer is yes. Former Navy SEALs Jocko Willink and Leif Babin write a book on leadership that can apply—and, if you read it, will apply—to any area of leadership.

Babin and Willink’s central thesis is controversial to the extreme, yet they defend it admirably. Leadership, they claim, requires the principle of “Extreme Ownership”—namely, taking responsibility for all actions which were executed under your leadership and failed, whether you are responsible for them or not. They also devote considerable time to teaching leaders how they should relate to those serving under them. Explain everything, they instruct, and the day when you don’t explain, the people under your command will know that it is serious. Inject your passion into the mission, and make it clear exactly what you are doing and why you are doing it. If there are objections, address them right away; don’t wait until there is a crisis where a disagreement in purpose splits the team in half. Using real-life examples, such as an incident of friendly fire where a failure to communicate nearly ended tragically, the authors show rather than tell, and then explain further to quell any doubts about the significance and vital importance of their advice.

Filled with practical lessons for leadership, but also with real-world stories on both the battlefield and the business field, the authors, who founded a company that tries to help struggling businesses succeed, bring their expertise onto your bookshelf. I must admit that I was pleasantly surprised by how well these two non-professional authors write. It is an engaging book, partly because it combines stories with genuine excitement, such as those of conflicts in close quarters in the streets of Ramadi, where a bad move, or failing to take responsibility, could lead to your own death or that of your fellow soldiers, with something infinitely more practical for those of us who likely will never set foot on the battlefield. At once practical and extraordinary, this book, although thoroughly secular, recognizes facts about leadership and about moral agency that are explicit for those who hold to a Christian worldview.

My criticisms of this book are few and thus will be made in as short a time as possible. For those reading this book from a Christian background, it may be disappointing that the authors never once mention faith as critical to success in life. Furthermore, these two are genuine Navy SEALs, which means, sadly, that they speak (and write) as such. The language in this book is not, I hope, that used by an eighth grader. Be prepared to be disturbed. Thirdly, although in purpose each chapter purports to deal with a different topic and a different lesson learned in war, it does, after a while, seem repetitive, with the same facts being used several times to elucidate different theses and to prove different points. Fourthly, and lastly, the authors are a bit self-serving, always managing to have the last word on how they fixed up a problem in the world of business.

You do not have to be fighting terrorists in Afghanistan or throwing bombs in Ramadi to need this book. If you are leading a business, shepherding a church, or just trying to live your life to the best of your ability, as all of us are called to do, then this book is for you. Although the authors never mention religion, their instruction to take responsibility for your actions and those of others closely mirrors the Christian belief that each person is morally accountable to God for their actions. Furthermore, in this, you can see a type of Dostoevskyan concern for the actions of others. “We are responsible,” says Father Zosima in The Brothers Karamazov, “on behalf of all and for all.” This teaching is clearly taught in Extreme Ownership, but with a more practical twist. It is no longer purely philosophical; this time it could save your business, or your life.

Review Written by C. A. Gerber

March 25th, 2026

Review of Bibi: My Story

Book Author: Benjamin Netanyahu

tags: memoir, Middle East, leadership 

The Middle East is fraught with stories of bravery and stories of cowardice, of war and peace, of all that makes the human heart noble and all that makes it vile. Indeed, throughout history, names that will long be remembered have often carved their mark into the annals of the past because of their actions in this region, which divides three continents: from Lawrence of Arabia to David Ben-Gurion and now, most recently, Benjamin Netanyahu.

It was surprising to me, as I read through the earlier parts of this book, how much time the Prime Minister spent, in his early years, in the United States. This makes his vision of an Israeli-US alliance, akin to that formed by Roosevelt and Churchill during the Second World War, look far less prophetic and far more realistic. Having attended college in the United States, having been the Israeli ambassador to the United States, and having spent a period in Manhattan as Israel’s ambassador to the United Nations, Netanyahu is full of praise for the “arsenal of democracy,” but also warning.

Also surprising is the intense factionalism of Israeli politics. Completely different from the two-party system of the USA, the portrayal of the inner bargains and fights for power, as well as scandal, corruption, and jockeying for parliamentary control, creates an almost laughable picture, yet it is a deadly serious game, for nothing less than the survival of the Jewish state is at stake. It is at once unapologetically partisan, yet rings true nonetheless.

Readers seeking a conventional autobiography will be disappointed. To be clear, Netanyahu does write about his family life, his father’s role in the founding of Israel, and the story of the death of his brother, his hero Yonatan Netanyahu, at Entebbe Airport after the terrorist hijacking. Rather than give only a biography of himself, it seems at times as if Netanyahu is attempting to give a biography of the Middle East, and at that, I certainly believe, he succeeds wonderfully. This is a long book; it is a book that will likely sit on your nightstand and gather dust, but it is a book that should be finished, and when it is finished, you will emerge from your room wiser and more equipped to understand the complex, yet incredibly simple, dynamics of the Middle East.

Having written this book during one of the few brief periods of the last three decades in which he has not been in power, Netanyahu’s highly personal analysis of his life as both a statesman and a man does not include the period for which he is most well-known: specifically, the period following the Hamas massacre of October 7th. However, that is not to say that the book is devoid of interesting periods. From the signing of the Oslo Accords to the Second Intifada, from Cairo to Berlin, Netanyahu captures the prime movers behind the modern geopolitical landscape. Enclosed within these pages are stories of interactions with former Israeli Prime Ministers—some opponents, others, far less, friends: Shimon Peres, Yitzhak Rabin, Ariel Sharon, Naftali Bennett—they are all here, written about by their arch-nemesis and most long-standing opponent, Benjamin Netanyahu.

Also in these pages, you will find intriguing details about US-Israeli relations: from the controversy-fraught administration of Bill Clinton, plagued with scandal at home yet naively hoping to achieve peace with Yasser Arafat, to Barack Obama, who promised to “lead from behind.” Donald Trump and Joe Biden also have a significant role to play, from the Abraham Accords onward.

Neither does the Prime Minister spend all six hundred pages of this book crying over spilled milk or controversial relations with public figures. He does not exclusively concentrate on the present or the future, on what can be if “the right person is elected,” a narrative which so often fills the reminiscences of public figures. To be clear, Netanyahu devotes a considerable amount of time to clearing his own name from controversy and does, at times, seem a little self-serving. Not to excuse him from acting as a human, but his narrative is full of self-praise evinced by other public figures such as Winston Churchill.

Indeed, Netanyahu evokes, at times, an almost Churchillian sense of destiny. And well may he do so, for throughout these pages, although tinted with personal bias, you see before your eyes a figure of immense proportions and vast schemes come to life: a man like all others, full of errors and vanity, but also a man filled with a passion for the true, the good, and the beautiful; a man preoccupied with the defense of his own nation and of Western civilization more broadly.

Review Written by C. A. Gerber

March 17th, 2026

Review of The Demon of Unrest

Book Author: Erik Larson

tags: history 

Before the war, there was a war. Returning to another little-known and little-researched period in history, author Erik Larson sheds new light on the time before the start of the Civil War, from the last days of the Buchanan presidency to the surrender of Fort Sumter.

The Demon of Unrest, as The Splendid and the Vile before it, comes alive with a lively array of diverse characters. Robert Anderson, the deeply religious commanding officer in charge of the defense of Fort Sumter, torn between his allegiance to the Union and his bond to the South, is faced with impossible choices that could determine the balance between war and peace. Edmund Ruffin, the fire-eating secessionist who has struggled his entire life to bring this colossal conflict to fruition, is crippled by unbearable personal loss. James Hammond, famous for his declaration that “cotton is King,” treats, rather, the lusts of his flesh as the master of his actions and is nearly ruined by stunning revelations of sexual deviance. Jefferson Davis, the former Secretary of War selected by the Confederacy to be its first leader, is disappointed that a compromise could not be reached, yet bound by honor to remain with his native South. President-elect Abraham Lincoln also makes a prominent appearance in this tale of hubris and heartbreak, as the subtitle describes: recently elected as the first Republican to ever hold the highest office in the land, he is still courting the loyalties of rival factions within his party and the nation. Trying desperately to avoid a breakup of the nation he loves, and for which he is willing to die, the opening shots of a war that will end up claiming his life could not be more trying for the Illinois native.

The intimate and the monumental are captured herein with equal talent. The private doubts, the moral failings and triumphs, and the moments of decision that could hold devastating consequences are all on full display. The anxieties, passions, and contradictions of the men and women caught in the vortex of this period make compromise nearly impossible. Central to the narrative, Larson includes the inseparable sense of honor held by both Northerners, as heirs of the founders, and Southerners, as members of an elite society which goes back even further than the founders the North claims to speak for. The code duello itself, Larson shows, could not describe the opening scenes better, for, like a duel—seconds and all—the prelude to the Civil War was governed by strict rules, personal pride, and the weight of reputation. Yet, as in any duel, misjudgment or hesitation could prove fatal. Every decision carried a dual edge: to act could ignite conflict; to hesitate could invite dishonor.

I have stated in the past how masterfully Larson weaves the story together. This is no exception. If anything, it is an even better example of the talent of a great historian. It is also my habit to criticize elements I dislike in a work—any work—yet, alas, to find such elements in this narrative proves nearly impossible. This book goes to show that history is lived by real people: some will go down in history as men who played a prominent role, while others will be largely forgotten by the annals of history. But these moments of fear, betrayed honor, and heartbreak, as the experiment in democracy seemed to be tearing apart, were lived, to an equal degree, by all; and all, however minor, played a role. Without Fort Sumter, there may well never have been a Civil War. Without The Demon of Unrest, this fort, and the people in it, may never have received their due.

Review Written by C. A. Gerber

March 15th, 2026

Review of Battle for the American Mind

Book Author: Pete Hegseth & David Goodwin

tags: culture, Christian 

What has happened to our kids? To receive an answer to this question is the same as to receive an answer to the question: what has happened to our education system, for while their formative years are in swing, it is the teachers who exert the most influence, change the most lives, and determine, in a way, the future beliefs of the children of America.

In taking another look at exactly how education turned into indoctrination, and virtue turned into values, former FOX News Host—and now Secretary of War—Pete Hegseth, a publicly educated yet concerned parent, and David Goodwin, an experienced classical educator, explore the beginnings of progressive ideology in America, and they go back further than the normal thesis, which places the blame entirely on the shoulders of John Dewey and the pragmatists. Rather, argue the authors, the true culprits are those who, as far back as the Enlightenment, but especially later, with the origin of the social gospel, began to shift the focus of education away from the cultivation of virtue and the transmission of truth—the Western paideia—to the reshaping of society. However noble the goal, the result was catastrophic, argues Hegseth, for it inoculated students against the idea that truth and wisdom could be learned, instead positing that truth and wisdom must be effected—that is, that the measure of a society’s goodness was not its ability or lack thereof to conform to a certain standard, but rather its capacity to mold the standard to a progressive secular ideal.

Challenging even the perception of modern-day conservatives that patriotism is a measure of an education’s virtue, Hegseth argues that patriotism for a nation, though not an inherent vice, has replaced the patriotism of the Old World: that is, the patriotism holding to the idea that man’s final kingdom, final destination, and final allegiance is not earthly, but heavenly.

Moving through history, from the conflict of the Enlightenment and the Revolution to the emergence of the Social Gospel, Darwinism and its fruits, and lastly the pragmatist educational system of John Dewey, Hegseth and Goodwin show rather than tell the erosion of the classical ideal. The paideia upon which our nation was founded regarded virtue and philosophy—or the love of wisdom—as fundamental. Virtue and wisdom were not proper to the individual, but to the citizen. They were not synonymous with the word used today—“values”—for values can be proper to each man, different and at times contradictory—justice and mercy, truth and love—depending on how they are applied. For the authors, virtue, the shaping of the mind toward the truth, and the molding of the heart toward the telos, is the goal of education, a goal at which our culture has simply failed to arrive.

The authors’ argument is persuasive, but uncomfortable, for it makes the reader realize that even that which he or she considered to be “conservative” was borrowed from that which is the opposite. They do not mix terms and avoid many of the strawmen used by modern classicists. Unfortunately, in their representation of the Founding Fathers as deists molded more by the Enlightenment than by Christian doctrine, they seem to be falling into the error they diagnose. This, of course, does not nullify the thesis, but it leaves room for them to grow, and makes the reader think critically about thinking critically. Furthermore, though the critique is powerful, they seem to focus more on the problems than the solutions. They do address the why behind this: it’s obvious that solutions will vary from situation to situation, and what applies in one case will not apply in another. Easy to understand, the book’s strength lies in its ability to bring the history of education into perspective, incorporating Christian truths into the final analysis.

When virtue is abandoned, when reason is thrown to the dogs and is no longer able to determine the legitimacy or accuracy of a statement, then the failure is not simply pedagogical, but spiritual. It leaves students untethered—able to recite facts but unable to explain the deeper meaning behind them; willing to change culture but without knowing what culture should be changed to. Social engineering no longer produces citizens, but rather, it produces sycophants.

Review Written by C. A. Gerber

March 15th, 2026

Review of The Absurdity of Unbelief

Book Author: Jeffrey D. Johnson

tags: philosophy, Christian 

Secularists are prone to portray the battle over worldview as a conflict between the outdatedness of religious belief and the science of progress, but what if this dichotomy is not only false, but completely reverses the reality of reality itself? Jeffrey D. Johnson sets out to prove in his book, The Absurdity of Unbelief, not only that Christianity is a viable alternative to the worldviews and religious dogmas of our world today, but that it is the only comprehensive system of thought that accurately relies upon the use of reason as proof, and not an obstacle to the radical claims made by the Biblical account.

To read this book does not require a degree in advanced philosophy or theological thought, though it does require a clear head, a concentrated mind, and a willing spirit, as well as a healthy dose of caffeine. Jeffrey Johnson does a masterful job not only at defending his central thesis, but at anticipating objections to it, and addressing them properly.

Beginning, in part one with a critique of the significant worldview of today, including those which would seem to the naked eye to not conflict with the truth claims of Christianity -such as Pascalian existentialism-, but which in reality are a substantive threat to the progress of the gospel.

As Johnson writes in the introduction to the book: “Because all non-Christian worldviews are indefensible, it is not sufficient for skeptics to attack Christianity without also defending the foundation for their own unbelief. Everyone has a worldview, even atheists and skeptics, but only the Christian worldview is not self-contradictory.” The author digs into the premises upon which the rival religions that threaten Christianity are based, and with Schaefferian rigor exposes them as frauds, self-contradictory theses which are indefensible from the start when we clearly identify what they state and why they state it. From naturalism to existentialism, to Nietzschean nihilism, Johnson progressively shows the decline, or devolution of these worldviews, not as coherent systems of truth, but as intellectual cul-de-sacs that collapse under the weight of their own presuppositions. When followed to their logical conclusions, Johnson argues, these systems ultimately undermine the very tools they depend upon. Naturalism erodes the basis for reason itself by its denial of a designer or law-giver; existentialism dissolves truth into subjective preference; nihilism, as articulated by figures like Friedrich Nietzsche, leaves humanity stranded in a universe devoid of meaning or moral grounding which calls into question the very reason for which they proposed their system of thought in the first place.

In part two, Johnson illuminates the truth on some of the greatest objections to systemic Christian theology; from the Trinity to the reliability of Scripture, and the bogeyman called Evil. Destroying both the dualistic Christianity which sees evil as an equal force with good -in a very Thomist way, though the author, an avowed anti-Thomist would reject the label-, and the existentialist experience-based faith that treats reality as that which is true for the inner self and ultimately leads to the Christian nihilism of figures like Paul Tillich and Rudolf Bultmann, Johnson instead proposes the central thesis of Christianity as a revelation of reality, and reason as an instrument, and not a master of the created order. Using the presuppositional apologetics approach of Francis Schaeffer and Cornelius Van Til -a system, which, as a classical theistic apologist, I find problematic but still useful-, Johnson sheds light on the fact that the doctrines of Christianity are not simply doctrines, but facts. The Trinity, as an example, is, by necessity present, for, if God is love, and to love implies a lover and one who is loved, then it is necessary that God should have loved prior to creating us; yet who else could He love if he was not the trinitarian God presented in Scripture?

What appears mysterious, he argues, is not therefore contradictory; rather, the difficulty often lies in humanity’s limited understanding of divine realities. The doctrines critics most often dismiss as absurd, are the doctrines which provide the basis for a coherent worldview and systematic form of belief. Unbelief, and not belief, is absurd, irrational and self-destructive. The choice, argues Johnson, is not between faith and reason, not between religion and science, but between rationality and irrationality, truth and falsehood, light and darkness.

Review Written by C. A. Gerber

March 15th, 2026