Passive Poets & Empty Experts
Jane Hirshfield's Insight, the #COVIDHoax, & the Student Who Saved a Skyscraper
If you enjoy this article, please click Like (❤️) to help others find my work.
Some time ago, I read a quote attributed to Jane Hirshfield and copied it to a Notepad file on my laptop. I quickly committed it to memory.
I’d never heard of Hirshfield, but her words hinted at what kind of work she did:
I only say I’m a poet when I’m writing a poem. It’s not an identity you can rest in; it’s an activity that you can enter.
It’s brilliant. And it’s exactly what I think of the activities in which we engage. We are only accurately described by a behavior if and when we demonstrate it in the moment.
For a year and a half, I would scroll past Hirshfield’s words on my computer, until my curiosity finally got the better of me. What was the larger context that led to such a well-phrased analysis?
Hirshfield’s quote came from an interview she gave to Sam Harris. The free preview of their conversation contains both the identity/activity insight above and another about “beginner’s mind,” as she called it:
When you don’t know the conventions and you’re not an expert, anything is possible. And for the expert, they think they know what they’re supposed to do, and so fewer things are possible.
In the chronology of the podcast, this observation about beginners vs. experts immediately preceded Hirshfield’s answer to Harris’ question about being a poet. This turned out to be a perfect setup, because I think “expert” suffers from the same misuse that Hirshfield ascribes to “poet.”
Expertise exists, but not experts

I don’t believe experts exist. Expertise exists. But to identify a person as an expert seems like nonsense. Expertise must be demonstrated in the present; it’s not a matter of past events nor of credentials and social status.
A rank amateur can demonstrate expertise in the present moment. And people who’ve demonstrated expertise in the past can fail to do so right now.
An objection could be raised that this seems like wordplay and semantics. But I think it’s much deeper than a question of surface language. This concerns how people value information and how they practically seek truth.
If you believe that experts exist, then you’re likely to see truth as a matter of “Who said it?” rather than “What is it?” And frankly, the do-what-you’re-told approach is very efficient from a time and mental-energy standpoint, since its practitioners can skip the rigors of logic and evidence. But it lacks moral virtue and a human level of intelligence (animals can be trained to recognize an authority and act on command, too).
This tactic, often called Appeal to Authority, is a logical fallacy, alluring as it might be for those who revel in social-status hierarchies and the idolization of so-called experts, celebrities, and political figures. It also ignores important information and contributions from those people not deemed authorities.
The dynamic was a regular feature of the #COVIDHoax. Despite “experts” touting the various fascist tactics, there were no scientifically valid conclusions in favor of lockdowns, social distancing, masks, and gene-therapy injections. Humane ethics never favored those tactics, either, but as I’ve written extensively, the supposed moral “experts” also failed.
And many non-”experts” who demonstrated correct logic and claims of evidence were censored for COVID and non-COVID matters.
This question of expertise was on my mind again much more recently, as I watched a documentary from Veritasium, “The Most Dangerous Building in Manhattan,” about the Citicorp skyscraper built in New York City in the 1970s (watch at this link or embedded below):
I enjoyed learning about the science and engineering that went into designing the building and fixing the potentially fatal flaw that was discovered. But the way the solution emerged — and disaster averted! — stood out even more. The problem was uncovered due to a curious college student who dared to ask questions of the experts and authorities.
And to his credit, the “expert” structural engineer, William LeMessurier, was willing to listen to the concerns expressed by someone who lacked high social status. LeMessurier’s humility and morals were so exceptional in the prestige-driven culture, they’ve been studied in ethics courses on science and engineering.
Real identity is present action
Every activity that people are tempted to assert as an identity follows the same wrong-headed path as poet and expert.
For another example, I’ve written and podcasted about my hesitancy to call myself a teacher, unless I can add the context that I teach adult-education sessions at my parish (which have finished for the term, so I’m not presently a teacher in that capacity). If what I do at Substack is also considered teaching, then I’m a teacher when I publish my posts here.
This aversion to activity-as-identity can guard against falling into identity politics. And being extremely skeptical of “expert culture” exercises your mental and moral muscles. Developing these capacities is vital to embracing the consent-based ethics encouraged by anarchism/voluntarism and genuine Christianity.
In my most recent Sunday Buffet podcast, I examined the passage from Jesus’ Last Supper in which He tells His closest friends how “all will know that you are my disciples.” The marker is real, proven action — “if you have love for one another” (John 13:35) — rather than a social-status mechanism.
Whether it’s poetry, expertise, anarchism, or Christianity, you are truly neither your nostalgia nor your fantasies, but what you demonstrate in the present moment.
To borrow Hirshfield’s turn of phrase regarding poets, I encourage you to grow out of the good-citizen muck of resting in identity. Instead, enter into the activity of good neighborliness.
Enter into the Comments section
Have you written poetry? Recently?
What do you think of the “expert culture” that seems to have infected the modern West? Remember the #COVIDHoax?
What do you do to keep an attentive, ever-present mindset for those things to which you aspire?
Anything else notable to you about today’s topic?
Let me know your thoughts below …
—
My book, Good Neighbor, Bad Citizen, is available at:
· Amazon (paperback & Kindle)
· Barnes&Noble (paperback)
· Lulu (paperback)
Find me on X: GoodNeighBadCit
And, as always: Be a good neighbor, even if it makes you a bad citizen.
Thanks, Domenic, for writing this.
It's a very important point. One must be, daily, what one says one is. Or nearly daily.