Local Governments and AI in
21st Century America
Compiled by Alfred Brock
Brock Publishing House
© All Rights Reserved 2025
In an era where artificial intelligence captivates the public imagination and reshapes policy debates, local governments across the United States grapple with profound challenges: balancing technological promises against environmental stewardship, public health, economic equity, and enduring moral principles. From the rapid proliferation of energy-intensive data centers on prime agricultural land to the expansion of hazardous waste facilities and the seductive spread of gambling industries, decisions at the state and municipal levels reveal deeper tensions in American society.
This volume, Local Governments and AI in 21st Century America, compiled by Alfred Brock, examines these intersections through a lens of moral philosophy. It contends that many contemporary ills stem not from excessive freedom but from a corrosive shift toward subjective morality—where personal feelings, elite consensus, and short-term gains eclipse shared, objective ethical standards. Drawing on historical precedents, philosophical critique, and specific case studies from Michigan and beyond, the essays explore how this mindset enables hype-driven projects, regulatory secrecy, and exploitative industries to flourish, often at the expense of community well-being and intergenerational responsibility.
The chapters delve into mob mentalities old and new, elite networks that normalize self-interest, the false dichotomies of "progress," and the emerging quasi-religious fervor surrounding AI. They highlight risks such as farmland conversion, toxic burdens, gambling's regressive toll, and non-disclosure agreements that shroud public dealings in secrecy. Yet they also call for reaffirmation of general moral frameworks—rooted in reason, human dignity, and stewardship—to guide governance toward sustainable, accountable paths.
Published in 2025 amid ongoing debates over AI infrastructure and local incentives, this collection invites readers to reflect critically on the moral foundations shaping our shared future.
Brock Publishing House
© All Rights Reserved 2025
Contents
Introduction. 4
Personal Morality. 7
Michigan Data Centers. 12
Right and Wrong in 21st Century America. 22
Family Connections. 27
Elitist Mob Mentality. 34
Waste Management and Political Gain. 42
AI Hype and Efficiency Claims Fade. 50
Gambling as an Industry. 57
Joining of Gambling and Politics. 63
The Church of Artificial Intelligence. 76
Non-Disclosure Agreements. 83
The idea that personal morality—rooted solely in individual feelings, preferences, or subjective experiences—is superior to a general, shared moral framework is deeply flawed and corrosive to society. This view, often tied to moral subjectivism or extreme relativism, posits that "right" and "wrong" are merely matters of personal opinion or emotional response, with no objective standards binding across individuals or cultures. Philosophers and ethicists have long critiqued this as leading to incoherence: if morality is purely subjective, rational moral judgment becomes impossible, as there's no independent ground for evaluating actions beyond fleeting feelings. It undermines moral progress (e.g., abolishing slavery or advancing civil rights can't be deemed "better" if all views are equally valid) and fosters intolerance disguised as tolerance—relativists often impose their own "no absolute truth" dogma while claiming open-mindedness.
This subjectivist elevation erodes social cohesion by prioritizing raw emotion over reasoned principles. When feelings dictate morality, hatred or resentment can be rationalized as authentic and thus justifiable. General morality, by contrast, draws from shared human reason, traditions, or transcendent truths (e.g., universal prohibitions on murder or theft), providing a stable framework that restrains impulses and promotes mutual accountability.
Examples Involving Mob Mentality and Hatred
Mob mentality illustrates how subjective feelings, amplified in groups, override general moral restraints. In crowds, individuals experience deindividuation—losing personal identity and responsibility—leading to behaviors they wouldn't commit alone. Emotions like anger or hatred spread contagiously, justifying violence as "right" because it feels collectively empowering.
Historical lynchings in the U.S. (e.g., post-Reconstruction era) often stemmed from racial hatred framed as personal or communal "justice." Mobs felt morally righteous in their fury, bypassing laws and empathy. This wasn't excessive freedom but a failure to uphold general morals against subjective rage.
The Salem witch trials (1692) show mob hysteria fueled by fear and personal accusations. Feelings of betrayal or supernatural threat overrode evidence and compassion, leading to executions. Participants later regretted it, highlighting how emotion-driven "morality" collapses under scrutiny.
Modern examples include riots or online cancel cultures, where hatred toward perceived offenders escalates into destructive acts. In the 2020 U.S. protests, some devolved into looting and violence, justified by participants as emotional catharsis against injustice. Yet this often harmed innocents, showing how unchecked feelings breed mayhem.
In George Orwell's 1984, the "Two Minutes Hate" ritual forces collective emotional outbursts, making hatred feel morally obligatory. Real-world parallels, like Nazi rallies stirring anti-Semitic fury, demonstrate how leaders exploit subjective emotions to mobilize mobs, eroding general prohibitions on violence.
Broader Problems in the United States and the World
Many societal issues stem not from "excessive freedom"—which implies liberty itself is the culprit—but from moral relativism's insistence that diverse worldviews, even those endorsing violence, greed, mayhem, or crime, deserve equal validity as "fair play." This pseudo-tolerance paralyzes condemnation of harmful ideologies, allowing them to flourish.
In the U.S., rising crime in some cities, corporate greed scandals, and political polarization reflect a cultural drift where personal "authenticity" trumps shared ethics. Moral decay—evident in family breakdown, opioid crises, or acceptance of fraud—justifies self-interest as valid if it "feels right." Relativism contributes by eroding objective standards: if greed is just one worldview among many, why restrain it? Critics argue this, not freedom, fuels inequality and distrust.
Globally, tolerating violent worldviews as "cultural" or "personal" enables atrocities. Extremist ideologies (e.g., those justifying terrorism or genocide) gain footing when relativism equates them with peaceful ones. The Holocaust wasn't condemned relativistically—Nuremberg trials invoked universal morals against Nazi claims of cultural superiority. Yet today, some hesitate to judge honor killings or authoritarian greed as wrong, fearing "imposing values."
True freedom thrives under general morality: restraints on harm enable trust and prosperity. When relativism treats violence or greed as legitimate options, society fragments—problems arise from insufficient moral consensus, not too much liberty. Reaffirming shared principles (e.g., human dignity, non-aggression) counters this corrosion, fostering accountability over unchecked feelings.
The proliferation of hyperscale data centers in Michigan exemplifies the dangers of elevating subjective, feeling-based morality—often rooted in short-term greed, hype, or emotional appeals to "progress"—over a general, reasoned moral framework that prioritizes long-term human flourishing, stewardship of resources, and intergenerational responsibility. Here, "progress" is framed emotionally as inevitable technological advancement (e.g., AI as essential for national security or economic growth), justifying the sacrifice of prime farmland, environmental health, and community stability. This relativism treats violent disruption of ecosystems or greedy exploitation of public resources as "fair play" if it feels profitable or modern, eroding shared principles like preserving arable land for food security or ensuring transparent governance.
Subjective Morality in Action: Greed and Hype Over Reason
Developers, tech giants (OpenAI, Oracle, Meta, Microsoft, Google), and supportive politicians invoke a subjective narrative: data centers represent "the future," creating jobs and tax revenue, so opposition is backward or selfish. This emotional appeal overrides objective concerns. For instance, in Saline Township, a $7 billion, 1.4-gigawatt facility on 575 acres of farmland was pushed through despite local denial of rezoning. Developers sued, citing "exclusionary zoning," and settled with payments (e.g., $14 million for preservation and facilities), framing it as a win-win. Yet critics see this as coercion: powerful interests (backed by figures like Gov. Gretchen Whitmer and federal subsidies) bulldoze local wishes for quick gains.
The Michigan Public Service Commission (MPSC) fast-tracked DTE Energy's power contracts via an "ex parte" process in December 2025, limiting scrutiny despite over 5,500 public comments and opposition from Attorney General Dana Nessel. Redacted contracts and rushed approval fueled accusations of secrecy, prioritizing corporate "needs" over transparent accountability. This reflects moral subjectivism: if it feels urgent for "competitiveness," rules bend.
Greedy local politicians and landowners play a role too. Some farmers sell vast tracts for windfall profits, while officials chase tax incentives (extended in 2024 until 2050+), viewing data centers as easy revenue despite low job yields (often 30-450 per facility, far below promises). Bipartisan efforts to repeal these incentives emerged in late 2025, acknowledging the "arms race" subsidizes tech billionaires at taxpayer expense.
Mob Mentality and Hatred in the Debate
Opposition has mobilized collective emotion, akin to mob mentality, where shared anger at "corporate overreach" or "environmental destruction" amplifies into heated protests (e.g., hundreds at the Capitol in December 2025 chanting against "secret deals"). Residents in towns like Saline, Howell, and others denounce projects as "uniquely evil," fearing noise, light pollution, higher utility bills, and lost rural character. This fury is understandable but risks overriding nuance: not all development is bad, yet emotional outrage portrays data centers as existential threats, mirroring how mobs historically justify extremes based on felt injustice.
On the pro side, hype creates a "mob" of boosters—politicians, utilities, and industry—stirring fear of missing out (FOMO) on AI boom, hating "NIMBYs" as obstructing progress. This collective emotion dismisses farmland preservation as sentimental, equating servers with superiority over soil.
Denigrating Farmland: A Corrosive False Dichotomy
A key example of subjective morality's harm is denigrating farmland as inferior to data centers. Developers target cleared agricultural land near power lines for cheap, easy builds—Michigan has seen proposals in at least 16 sites across 10+ counties, often converting prime soil. Proponents claim data centers are "better" for community goals: higher taxes, fewer impacts than factories, and preservation of remaining acres via easements.
Yet general morality recognizes farmland's objective value: food production sustains life long-term, supports biodiversity, and combats climate change via carbon sequestration. Michigan's fertile land isn't infinite; losing it to warehouses (with massive energy/water demands—e.g., one facility equaling Detroit's power use) prioritizes transient tech profits over enduring human needs. Environmental impacts include wetland destruction, river threats (e.g., Saline River contamination risks), grid strain potentially delaying renewables, and habitat loss. Offsetting with solar would require tens of thousands more acres—ironically, more farmland.
This isn't excessive freedom causing issues, but relativism's insistence that greedy worldviews (corporate profit maximization) or disruptive ones (rapid industrialization without safeguards) are equally valid. True progress aligns with shared ethics: sustainable development balancing innovation with stewardship. Michigan's rush—fueled by incentives and hype—risks long-term regret, fragmenting communities and resources for fleeting gains. Reaffirming general principles (e.g., prioritizing food security, transparency, and environmental limits) would counter this corrosion.
The same corrosive mindset of moral subjectivism—prioritizing short-term emotional appeals to "economic necessity," corporate profit, and vague notions of "progress"—that drives the conversion of Michigan farmland into data centers also sustains and threatens to expand hazardous waste facilities like Wayne Disposal Inc. in Van Buren Charter Township. Here, subjective feelings of greed (profit for Republic Services), political advantage (tax revenue and "jobs" for local and state officials), and a distorted sense of public safety ("regulated disposal is safe enough") override general moral principles of stewardship, long-term public health, and precautionary protection of vulnerable populations. This relativism treats open land—once farmland or natural areas—as an expendable "aberration" to be consumed for industrial use, justifying the concentration of national toxic burdens in a densely populated area near Belleville Lake, the Huron River, and major waterways feeding the Great Lakes.
How the Mindset Initiates, Maintains, and Expands the Facility
Wayne Disposal, established in the 1970s before modern hazardous waste regulations, has grown into one of the nation's largest Subtitle C landfills, accepting highly toxic materials including PCBs, dioxins, acute hazards, and low-level radioactive waste (TENORM). The mindset took root with initial approvals framed as "essential" for industry, appealing to feelings of economic urgency over objective risks. It maintains the site through ongoing permit renewals and expansions justified by subjective claims: "We need somewhere for waste" or "It's a regional asset," downplaying cumulative impacts.
As of late 2025, Republic Services seeks a major license modification to add 5 million cubic yards of capacity (vertical expansion) and temporary container storage, while operating on an expired permit. This is enabled by regulators at EGLE, who state they cannot deny applications if technical boxes are checked, reflecting relativism's tolerance for greed as "fair play." Political actors in Lansing (low disposal fees making Michigan attractive) and Washington, D.C. (federal cleanups routing waste here) perpetuate it by failing to enact bans or caps, despite bipartisan bills stalling. Local trustees and officials historically accepted host fees or revenue, viewing open land as underutilized for "development" rather than a buffer for health.
Expansion threats loom: over 50% of waste comes out-of-state (e.g., from Ohio, New Jersey, even international), fueled by Michigan's bargain rates. Recent controversies—nearly accepting Manhattan Project radioactive soil from New York (blocked by 2025 injunction) and East Palestine derailment toxins—highlight how hype of "safe, engineered" disposal mobilizes pro-industry "mobs" (corporate lobbyists, some officials) against community outrage.
False Ideas of Public Safety, Greed, and Political Advantage
Proponents invoke a false public safety narrative: "Highly engineered liners and monitoring make it safe," equating compliance with zero risk. Yet general morality demands precaution—chronic low-level exposure to radionuclides (half-lives billions of years), leachate, odors, truck traffic, and accidents pose objective dangers. Residents report health fears (cancer clusters unstudied), with the site near schools, daycares, ballfields, and 350,000+ people within 10 miles. Proximity to Belleville Lake risks contamination of 20% of world's fresh water.
Overriding this is greed: Republic profits billions while externalizing long-term costs (post-closure monitoring limited to 30 years, then taxpayer burden). Political advantage in Lansing (avoiding tougher laws to not "hurt business") and D.C. (routing federal wastes here as "closest" facility) prioritizes short-term gains. Township trustees historically traded land use for fees, chasing "advantages" over neighbors without proving need—mirroring data center incentives.
This creates a vicious cycle: concentrated toxins deter residential growth yet attract more industry, locking communities into exposure while open/farmland is "consumed" as disposable. Subjective morality denigrates natural buffers as backward, insisting industrial sprawl is superior "progress."
Mob mentality amplifies: pro-expansion forces stir fear of "losing jobs" or "no alternatives," hating opponents as NIMBYs; residents' justified anger risks extremes but stems from felt betrayal. True progress requires general ethics—prioritizing human dignity, environmental limits, and equitable distribution over unchecked greed. Michigan's drift toward being "America's dumping ground" isn't inevitable freedom but relativism's failure to restrain harmful worldviews. Reaffirming shared principles (e.g., bans on out-of-state radioactive waste, capacity caps) could break the cycle, protecting citizens from this corrosive legacy.
The corrosive mindset of moral subjectivism—where personal feelings, group consensus, or self-interest dictate "right" and "wrong" over objective, shared ethical standards—has indeed taken root disproportionately among a relatively small, interconnected segment of society: those who attend elite universities (e.g., Ivy League, Stanford, MIT), inherit family wealth or connections, and socialize in exclusive networks like private clubs, donor circles, alumni associations, and high-profile events. These networks foster a closed ecosystem where influence, money, and power circulate among the same individuals, often leading to business deals, policy influence, and regulatory decisions that prioritize short-term gains over public health, environmental stewardship, or long-term societal well-being.
Studies on elite reproduction highlight how prestigious institutions serve less as meritocratic gateways and more as hubs for building lifelong social capital. Alumni from these schools dominate positions in politics, finance, media, tech, and regulation, forming interlocking networks that shape major decisions. This insularity breeds a subjective morality: behaviors are deemed acceptable not because they align with universal principles (e.g., non-maleficence or justice), but because "people like us" engage in them, normalizing greed or harm as sophisticated pragmatism.
Normalization Through Elite Networks and Deals
When these individuals collaborate on business ventures—merging capital from family trusts, venture funds, or corporate boards—they often leverage combined influence to bend rules. Examples include revolving door practices, where regulators move to lucrative private-sector roles (or vice versa), facilitating lax oversight for profit. In environmental and public health contexts, this manifests as downplaying risks from projects like data centers or waste facilities to secure tax incentives, subsidies, or permits. The mindset excuses this as "necessary progress" or "economic realism," overriding objective concerns about pollution, farmland loss, or health dangers because the emotional appeal of elite "innovation" or personal enrichment feels superior.
Their relative freedom—ample leisure time from inherited wealth or high-paying roles—allows immersion in echo chambers where degrading behaviors are reframed as elite norms.
Exemplified by Jeffrey Epstein
Jeffrey Epstein's case starkly illustrates this normalization. Despite his 2008 conviction for procuring minors, Epstein maintained access to elite circles, donating to institutions like Harvard and MIT, socializing with academics, financiers, politicians, and celebrities. Universities accepted his funds (e.g., MIT's Media Lab concealed ties), and figures continued associations post-conviction, treating his behavior as a quirk rather than a moral breach. This reflects subjectivism: if powerful peers tolerate or participate in boundary-pushing (e.g., via private islands or networks), it becomes "acceptable" within the group, eroding general prohibitions on exploitation.
Movie-Making and Hollywood Scandals
The film industry, dominated by elite networks (many tied to the same universities and social circles), has long exemplified moral relativism. Pre-1960s Hays Code enforced shared standards against glorifying immorality; its abandonment ushered in explicit content justified as "artistic freedom" or "authenticity." Scandals like Harvey Weinstein's (an "open secret" silenced for decades) show how power networks protect predators: moral muteness prevails because challenging it risks exclusion from deals, funding, or status. Behaviors once deemed antisocial—harassment, excess—are excused as industry norms, with greed (box-office shock value) overriding public health impacts like normalized violence or objectification.
Weapons Investments and Defense Ties
Elite investors and funds (often from the same networks) pour into defense contractors, justifying it as "national security" or pragmatic realism, despite profiting from conflict. Revolving doors amplify this: former officials join arms firms, influencing policy for contracts. Subjective morality frames it as ethical (deterrence against adversaries) while dismissing objective harms (perpetuating war economies). Freedom from financial pressure allows portfolio choices that externalize costs onto others.
In these spheres, antisocial behaviors—exploitation, regulatory capture, environmental trade-offs—are rationalized because elites engage in them: "If we're doing it, it must be fine." This insularity threatens broader society, as their influence shapes policies affecting public health (e.g., lax waste rules) or land use (e.g., industrial over farmland). Countering it requires reaffirming general morality: objective standards binding all, regardless of status or feelings. True progress demands accountability beyond elite echo chambers, prioritizing human dignity over networked self-interest.
The corrosive mindset of moral subjectivism—elevating personal feelings, group loyalty, and self-interest over objective ethical standards—thrives in insulated elite networks where family ties, shared educational pedigrees, and interlocking social circles normalize behaviors that prioritize power and profit over public good. These networks, often forged at prestigious universities, exclusive clubs, and high-stakes business deals, allow a small segment of society to accumulate influence across politics, finance, tech, and media. Family connections provide entry points and legitimacy, enabling individuals to enter prominence already embedded in overlapping circles of wealth and authority. This insularity fosters a subjective morality where antisocial or harmful actions (e.g., regulatory capture for personal gain, downplaying public health risks) are excused as "normal" because "people like us" do it—echoing the normalization seen in cases like Jeffrey Epstein's sustained access to elites despite known transgressions.
Gretchen Whitmer: Bipartisan Political Family Roots in Michigan Establishment
Governor Gretchen Whitmer exemplifies how family ties embed individuals in elite governance networks from birth. Her father, Richard Whitmer, served as head of the Michigan Department of Commerce under Republican Governor William Milliken and later as president and CEO of Blue Cross Blue Shield of Michigan (1988–2006), a major corporate player influencing state health policy. Her mother, Sherry Whitmer, worked as an assistant attorney general under Democratic Attorney General Frank Kelley and later under Jennifer Granholm. Raised in this bipartisan Lansing milieu—literally born into a press release announcing her arrival as the daughter of a cabinet official—Whitmer attended Michigan State University (twice, for undergrad and law) and entered politics early, serving in the state House and Senate before becoming governor. These connections reflect a generational entrenchment in Michigan's bureaucratic and corporate elite, where family legacy facilitates access to regulatory bodies like the MPSC, enabling decisions (e.g., fast-tracking data center approvals or waste facility permits) framed as "progress" but often prioritizing connected interests over long-term public health or environmental stewardship.
Donald Trump: Inherited Wealth and Pre-Presidential Elite Social Ties
Donald Trump's ascent was built on family wealth and New York elite circles long before politics. His father, Fred Trump, amassed a real estate fortune building middle-class housing in Queens and Brooklyn, cultivating ties to Democratic machine politics for contracts while supporting Republicans nationally. Trump inherited this empire, expanding into Manhattan high society—Mar-a-Lago gatherings, celebrity networks—and associating with figures like Epstein (pre-2008 conviction), Bill Clinton, and royalty. His children (Ivanka, Donald Jr., Eric) held executive roles in the Trump Organization, blending family business with political surrogacy. Trump's pre-presidency orbit overlapped with billionaires (e.g., Les Wexner, Leon Black via Epstein links) and tech moguls, normalizing deal-making that externalizes costs. This pedigree—wealthy outsider posing as anti-elite—mirrors how family ties provide a platform to override general morals for personal gain.
Elon Musk: Privileged Upbringing and Rapid Entry into Global Elite Networks
Elon Musk's "pedigree" stems from a wealthy South African family during apartheid's tail end. His father, Errol Musk, was an engineer, property developer, and emerald trader (acquiring shares in Zambian mines post-apartheid transition, though controversies persist about benefits from the era's inequalities). The family enjoyed privileges as white South Africans; Musk attended elite schools before moving to Canada/U.S. via his mother's citizenship. He quickly embedded in tech/finance elites—co-founding PayPal with networked entrepreneurs, leveraging subsidies and connections for Tesla/SpaceX. Musk's circles pre-prominence included Silicon Valley venture capital, overlapping with Epstein associates (e.g., meetings post-conviction) and figures like Bill Gates or Reid Hoffman. His rapid rise illustrates how family resources and subjective "genius" narratives allow entry into transatlantic elite networks, where behaviors like aggressive regulatory influence or labor practices are rationalized as innovative disruption.
Robert F. Kennedy Jr.: Iconic Dynasty Providing Instant Access to Power Circles
RFK Jr. embodies perhaps the purest dynastic entry: son of Senator/Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy, nephew of President John F. Kennedy, from a family spanning generations of senators, ambassadors, and activists. The Kennedys' compound in Hyannis Port, ties to Hollywood (e.g., Arnold Schwarzenegger via Maria Shriver), and philanthropy networks placed him in elite orbits from birth—Harvard education, environmental law career funded by family foundations. Despite diverging views (anti-vaccine activism), his name granted access to bipartisan circles, including Trump alliances in 2024–2025. Overlaps abound: Kennedy connections intersected Epstein's world (though distanced), and RFK Jr.'s Trump endorsement bridged traditional Democratic royalty with new populist elites like Musk.
Overlapping Circles and the Normalization of Subjective Morality
These figures were often in proximate elite spheres before peak prominence: Trump and Musk now allied in government efficiency efforts; RFK Jr. appointed by Trump to Health and Human Services, aligning with Musk on deregulation; Whitmer's Michigan establishment contrasts but shares revolving-door traits (corporate-political ties like her father's Blue Cross role). Broader overlaps include Epstein's web—linking Trump (pre-fallout), Clinton (Kennedy ally), Gates (Musk acquaintance), Prince Andrew, and billionaires like Wexner/Black—where post-conviction access persisted, normalizing boundary-pushing as elite prerogative.
Family ties accelerate this: dynasties (Kennedys, Trumps) or privileged starts (Musk, Whitmer) provide social capital, excusing greed or harm as "fair play" within the group. Leisure from wealth allows immersion in echo chambers—private jets, islands, donor events—fostering degrading norms (exploitation, regulatory favoritism) rationalized because peers partake. This mindset sustains issues like Michigan's industrial sprawl or national policy capture, eroding general morality for networked self-interest. Reaffirming objective standards—accountability transcending pedigree—remains essential to counter this corrosion.
The mistaken and corrosive idea that personal morality—rooted in individual feelings, preferences, or subjective intuitions—is superior to a general, shared moral framework undermines societal stability and rational discourse. This subjectivist view, often manifested as moral relativism, asserts that ethical judgments are merely personal or cultural constructs with no objective validity, leading to a dangerous equivalence where all perspectives are deemed equally worthy. Philosophers like Plato and Kant have long argued against this, emphasizing that true morality relies on universal reason or duties that transcend fleeting emotions. When feelings reign supreme, hatred, greed, or self-interest can be rationalized as authentic and thus legitimate, eroding the communal bonds essential for justice and progress. This mindset fosters intolerance under the guise of tolerance, as it paradoxically imposes the relativist's own dogma while dismissing objective critiques.
Examples Using Present-Day Elite Mob Mentality and Hatreds
In contemporary society, this subjectivism amplifies elite mob mentality—where interconnected networks of influential figures (politicians, CEOs, celebrities, academics) converge in echo chambers, stirring collective emotions like hatred or resentment to justify harmful actions. Unlike grassroots crowds, these elites leverage media, social platforms, and institutional power, creating a "mob" dynamic that normalizes antisocial behavior as elite prerogative.
Social media-driven cancel culture among elites exemplifies this: High-profile figures and their networks weaponize outrage based on felt offenses, leading to coordinated attacks that destroy reputations or careers. For instance, in 2024–2025, Hollywood and tech elites mobilized against perceived ideological foes, framing boycotts or deplatforming as moral imperatives derived from personal "truths" rather than evidence. This mirrors historical mobs but with digital amplification, where hatred feels righteous because the group affirms it.
Political hatreds in elite circles, such as the 2021 U.S. Capitol insurrection, involved not just crowds but influential backers who incited mob fury through subjective narratives of "stolen elections" or existential threats. Elites in media and politics rationalized the violence as passionate patriotism, overriding general morals against mayhem. Similar dynamics persist in 2025 partisan divides, where elite-funded think tanks and donors fuel hatred toward opponents, treating it as valid "resistance."
Globally, elite hatred manifests in anti-intellectual or anti-establishment rhetoric that pits "the people" against perceived "elites," yet often led by elites themselves. For example, in 2024 European protests or U.S. culture wars, networked influencers stir mob sentiments against institutions, excusing greed-driven policies (e.g., deregulation for profit) as anti-elite rebellion. This collective emotion deindividuates participants, leading to destructive acts justified by felt authenticity.
Broader Problems in the United States and the World
Many issues stem not from excessive freedom—which, when bounded by general morality, enables innovation and rights—but from relativism's insistence that all worldviews, including those endorsing violence, greed, mayhem, or crime, are "fair play." This pseudo-equality paralyzes condemnation, allowing harmful ideologies to proliferate. In the U.S., it contributes to polarization, corporate exploitation (e.g., regulatory capture for profit), and social decay, where greed is reframed as ambition. Globally, it enables imperialistic interventions disguised as moral crusades, prioritizing elite gains over human dignity.
Targets Outside the United States of Elitist Greed, Desire for Mayhem, and Perceived Easy Profit
Elitist networks—defense contractors, oil conglomerates, political dynasties—exploit relativism to target vulnerable nations, rationalizing interventions as "necessary" based on subjective national interests. This often involves reducing humanitarian aid (food, medicine, engineering) in favor of weapons sales, fostering dependency and conflict for profit. Key examples include:
Iraq: The 2003 U.S.-led invasion, justified by elite narratives of WMD threats and "democracy promotion," was driven by greed for oil reserves and reconstruction contracts (e.g., Halliburton ties to Cheney). Post-invasion, aid shifted from rebuilding infrastructure to massive weapons sales—over $10 billion in arms deals by 2025—exacerbating mayhem with ongoing instability, while reducing non-military assistance like food programs amid sanctions.
Venezuela: U.S. sanctions since 2017, intensified under multiple administrations, target oil wealth under the guise of human rights. Elite interests in regime change (e.g., access to reserves) have cut medical and food aid, replacing it with indirect arms support to opposition or neighbors, fueling economic collapse and migration crises without direct profit but enabling corporate exploitation.
Libya: The 2011 NATO intervention, backed by U.S. elites, devolved into chaos after Gaddafi's fall, with reduced engineering aid (e.g., water projects) supplanted by weapons proliferation. Elites profited from arms sales amid civil war, viewing the nation as an "easy" target for influence.
Syria: Ongoing since 2011, U.S. involvement includes arming proxies over humanitarian focus, with billions in weapons amid slashed food/medical aid, driven by geopolitical greed against rivals like Russia/Iran.
Afghanistan: Post-2001, initial aid evolved into a $2 trillion military quagmire, with weapons sales dominating over sustainable development, leaving mayhem after 2021 withdrawal.
Ukraine: Since 2022, massive U.S. weapons aid ($175 billion+ by 2025) overshadows non-military support, benefiting defense elites while prolonging conflict for strategic gains.
This pattern reflects a broader shift: USAID and other programs once emphasized societal aid, but relativism allows elites to prioritize military-industrial profits, excusing mayhem as collateral.
Devolution of American Aid to Africa: From Societal Assistance to AFRICOM
U.S. engagement in Africa historically focused on humanitarian efforts through USAID—providing medicine (e.g., PEPFAR for HIV/AIDS), food security via programs like Feed the Future, and engineering contracts for infrastructure (roads, dams). However, since AFRICOM's establishment in 2008, aid has devolved into a militarized umbrella, emphasizing security over development. AFRICOM, headquartered in Germany, coordinates military operations across 53 countries, with a budget exceeding $500 million annually by 2025, focused on counterterrorism, training, and partnerships.
This shift, criticized as militarization of foreign policy, replaces broad assistance with narrow defense spending. For example, donations now include weapons and equipment (e.g., $9 million to Somalia in 2023 for arms and vehicles), while humanitarian elements are secondary. AFRICOM's "whole-of-government" approach integrates with USAID but prioritizes security, leading to inefficiencies: billions spent on operations like drone strikes yield no tangible results in reducing terrorism (e.g., persistent threats from al-Shabaab, Boko Haram). This ruins opportunities—displacing investments in agriculture or health, fostering dependency on U.S. military aid, and enabling corruption in defense contracts—while profits accrue to a narrow elite in the arms industry, excusing the lack of broader societal benefits as pragmatic relativism. Reaffirming general morality could redirect toward sustainable aid, countering this corrosive cycle.
The corrosive mindset of moral subjectivism among educated elites—those interconnected through prestigious universities, family dynasties, and exclusive social networks—manifests as a self-serving greed that prioritizes short-term profits and personal "progress" narratives over objective ethical standards of public health, environmental stewardship, and long-term societal benefit. This relativism normalizes exploitation by framing harmful actions as acceptable within their circles: if elite peers profit from it, it must be "fair play," even if it involves greed-driven mayhem or disregard for communal resources. In Michigan, this elite-driven approach exacerbates issues in toxic waste management, the proliferation of massive waste dumps, and the prioritization of data centers over advancements in medicine, technology, engineering, farm maintenance, and expansion. It also underpins the state's exploitation of natural resources, favoring extractive or intrusive developments that erode biodiversity and sustainability rather than conserving or meaningfully developing them.
Application to Toxic Waste Management and Massive Waste Dumps
Michigan's handling of toxic waste exemplifies how elitist greed, channeled through networked politicians, regulators, and corporations, overrides public safety for perceived economic gains. Facilities like Wayne Disposal Inc. in Van Buren Charter Township—a massive Subtitle C landfill accepting hazardous materials nationwide—continue to expand despite widespread opposition, driven by subjective appeals to "necessary disposal" and revenue. In 2025, Republic Services sought to add 5 million cubic yards of capacity and temporary storage, prompting public hearings and legislative pushback. Lawmakers urged Governor Whitmer to intervene, citing environmental risks in a densely populated area near Belleville Lake, yet regulators at the Michigan Department of Environment, Great Lakes, and Energy (EGLE) leaned toward approval if technical criteria were met. This reflects elite relativism: corporate executives and connected officials (often from the same university alumni networks or family political legacies, like Whitmer's bureaucratic roots) rationalize expansion as "progressive" waste management, excusing health dangers (e.g., potential leachate contamination, odors, and radioactive waste threats) because it generates host fees and jobs—fleeting benefits that enrich a narrow elite while burdening communities long-term.
The explosion of such dumps—Michigan imports over 50% of its hazardous waste from out-of-state—stems from low fees and lax policies, making the state a "dumping ground" for national toxins. A 2025 Senate bill package aimed to moratorium new expansions and cap imports, but stalled amid lobbying from industry elites who frame opposition as backward. This isn't excessive freedom but relativism's tolerance for greed: elites in Lansing and corporate boards (interlinked with figures like Musk or Trump allies in deregulation pushes) prioritize profit over general morals like precautionary health protection, leading to cycles of exposure without meaningful alternatives like advanced recycling or decentralized treatment.
Data Centers vs. Beneficial Advancements
Similarly, the rapid proliferation of hyperscale data centers in Michigan—targeting farmland for AI and cloud computing—highlights elitist greed supplanting investments in medical, technological, engineering, or agricultural advances. Tech giants like OpenAI, Oracle, Meta, and Microsoft, backed by elite networks (e.g., Musk's influence in AI hype), push facilities that consume vast energy and land, often on prime agricultural acres. In Saline Township, a $7 billion, 1.4-gigawatt project on 575 acres of farmland advanced via lawsuit after local rezoning denial, settling with $14 million in community payments but igniting protests over wetlands destruction, river pollution, and utility bill hikes. Residents decry it as "uniquely evil," fearing grid strain equivalent to powering Detroit, yet elites frame it as essential "innovation," overriding farm preservation for tax incentives extended through 2050+.
This diverts resources from meaningful progress: instead of funding medical research (e.g., expanding University of Michigan's biotech hubs), engineering for sustainable infrastructure, or farm expansions via subsidies for soil health and tech-integrated agriculture, elites chase data center "booms" for quick returns. Proposals in Howell, Kalkaska, and Lansing mirror this, with over 16 sites converting farmland amid backlash—e.g., Livingston County's rejection of rezoning 1,000+ acres. Greed normalizes this within elite circles: networked investors and politicians (tied to dynasties like Whitmer's or broader Trump/Musk alliances) excuse environmental mayhem as collateral for "competitiveness," ignoring how it undermines food security and true technological equity.
Exploitation of Natural Resources: Extraction Over Conservation
Michigan's Department of Natural Resources (DNR) embodies this elitist mindset by exploiting forests, lands, and waterways more for profit-driven or recreational schemes than conserving or developing them sustainably. The state manages 4.6 million acres of public forests primarily for timber production, wildlife, and recreation, but practices like uniculture plantings—monoculture forests of single species (e.g., red pine or aspen for lumber/paper)—dominate, reducing biodiversity and resilience to pests/climate change. The Commercial Forest Program incentivizes private landowners to enroll tracts for reduced taxes in exchange for timber harvesting, prioritizing extractive industry over diverse ecosystems. Invasive species further degrade these monocultures, yet elites in forestry lobbies and DNR leadership (often from resource-extraction pedigrees) frame it as economic necessity, excusing habitat loss.
Recreational developments intrude on wild lands set aside for conservation: the DNR builds attractions and buildings in remote areas, fragmenting habitats. For instance, thousands of miles of snowmobile trails—over 6,500 miles maintained annually—cater to a niche, affluent user base, compacting soil, eroding trails, and disturbing wildlife during winter. This "elitist" infrastructure, funded by permits and grants, benefits motorized recreation enthusiasts (often from urban elite networks) while ignoring broader access needs, like quiet hiking or wildlife corridors. Critics argue it stems from greed: trail maintenance contracts enrich connected contractors, rationalized as "public enjoyment" despite environmental costs.
A root example is the "Rails to Trails" program, where abandoned rail lines are converted to paved multi-use paths, crisscrossing the state for biking/walking. While popular, it faces criticism for ripping up viable rail infrastructure amid ignored advances in rail distribution (e.g., high-speed or freight efficiency for sustainable transport). Michigan's extensive network (over 2,700 miles) prioritizes recreational elitism—appealing to leisure classes—over reinstating rails for economic equity, like reducing truck emissions or boosting rural connectivity. Elites in policy circles excuse this as "adaptive reuse," but it reflects ignorance: not because rails "don't work," but because networked developers and recreation advocates profit from trails (e.g., tourism boosts) while sidelining general morals of efficient resource use.
These patterns arise from relativism's corrosion: elites, insulated by family ties (e.g., Whitmer's legacy) and circles (intersecting with Musk/RFK Jr./Trump networks), treat exploitation as normalized "development," fostering mayhem like habitat fragmentation or pollution cycles. True freedom demands general morality—balancing progress with conservation—to counter this greed-driven degradation.
The elitist mentality—rooted in moral subjectivism where personal feelings of ambition, "innovation," and group loyalty override objective ethical standards—has profoundly corrupted state and federal governments, transforming them into technological sinkholes that siphon taxpayer dollars into bloated, unnecessary, and often hazardous industries. Exemplified by figures like Donald Trump, Elon Musk, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., Gretchen Whitmer, Greg Abbott, and Kathy Hochul, this mindset normalizes a system where high taxes are redirected not toward public goods like infrastructure, education, or sustainable development, but toward overpriced ventures in weapons, waste management facilities, and data centers. These elites, interconnected through family dynasties, university networks, and social circles, rationalize such allocations as "essential progress" because their peers profit from it, creating a form of corporate socialism that eliminates business risks through guaranteed subsidies, tax breaks, and regulatory favors. This erodes general morality's emphasis on prudent stewardship, fostering a cycle where public funds enrich narrow networks at the expense of societal health and long-term viability.
Trump's and Musk's Federal Push: AI Hype and Efficiency Facades
At the federal level, Trump and Musk have epitomized this elitist redirection through initiatives like the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), which Musk co-led to ostensibly slash bureaucracy but instead funneled resources into tech-heavy projects benefiting their circles. In 2025, Trump issued executive orders accelerating data center development, revoking prior AI infrastructure policies while directing federal agencies to streamline permitting and site selections for AI facilities on public lands. This included billions in strategic AI investments, often tied to private-sector ventures with companies like Musk's xAI or allies in Big Tech, framing massive energy-hungry data centers as national priorities despite their environmental dangers (e.g., diesel backups and grid strain). Weapons systems received similar boosts, with Trump's administration redirecting plutonium stockpiles toward civilian nuclear projects to power AI, pitting military modernization against tech subsidies—all while defense contractors in elite networks reaped profits from unchecked arms sales. Critics label this "corporate socialism," as it removes market uncertainties: government guarantees de-risk investments, allowing elites like Musk (whose companies benefited from over 130 documented Trump-era favors) to thrive without genuine competition. High federal taxes—exacerbated by trillions in new debt—fund this, yet public services lag, embodying relativism's tolerance for greed as "fair play."
RFK Jr.'s Health Tech Overreach: Wearables and Corporate Ties
RFK Jr., now heading Health and Human Services, extends this mentality into health policy, pushing AI-driven tech like mandatory wearables for all Americans to track personal data, ostensibly for wellness but aligning with corporate interests in his network. Despite campaigning against Big Pharma influence, RFK Jr. met with Andreessen Horowitz-backed health tech startups in 2025, promoting initiatives that funnel federal funds into data-heavy platforms—overpriced tools with privacy risks and dubious efficacy. This creates a sinkhole where taxes support unnecessary gadgets, benefiting venture capitalists in his elite orbit while sidelining proven public health measures. His "Make America Healthy Again" rhetoric masks corporate socialism: government-backed tech removes entrepreneurial risks, enriching networks tied to figures like Musk (with whom he clashed on obesity solutions but collaborated on broader deregulation).
State-Level Examples: Whitmer, Abbott, and Hochul's Localized Sinkholes
In Michigan, Governor Whitmer—rooted in a family of state bureaucrats—has championed data center tax exemptions extended through 2050, signing bills in early 2025 that direct taxpayer incentives to hyperscale facilities despite backlash over their dangers (e.g., massive power demands straining grids and farmland conversion). Projects like the Saline Township data center, supported by Whitmer's administration, exemplify this: overpriced builds with low job yields, subsidized to eliminate corporate risks, while waste dumps like Wayne Disposal expand under lax policies, turning the state into a toxic hub for elite profits. Bipartisan repeal efforts highlight the corrosion, as high property and sales taxes fund these "bizarre industries" benefiting Whitmer's connected circles.
Texas Governor Abbott mirrors this with aggressive data center incentives, announcing Google's $40 billion investment in 2025 for AI facilities, backed by state bills like SB6 that amend utilities codes to favor grid expansions for tech giants. This corporate socialism—removing uncertainties through tax breaks and regulatory streamlining—fuels water and energy crises, yet enriches Abbott's network of tech investors, prioritizing unnecessary AI over essential services amid high state taxes.
New York Governor Hochul, from a political family with deep establishment ties, has focused on waste management policies that, while aiming for reduction (e.g., signing bills for advanced septic systems and food scraps bans), inadvertently sustain elite-driven sinkholes by not aggressively capping hazardous imports or expansions. Her administration's exploration of waste plans often bows to business groups, redirecting funds toward overpriced "green" tech while high taxes support these ventures, benefiting networked corporations without addressing dangers like contamination.
Corporate Socialism and the Vicious Cycle
Like the Van Buren Charter Township trustees who traded public health for waste facility fees, these elites have institutionalized corporate socialism: subsidies and guarantees shield companies from market gambles, ensuring profits for weapons manufacturers (via federal defense bloat), waste operators (through low fees and permits), and data center builders (via tax exemptions and land deals). This isn't excessive freedom but relativism's insistence on equating greedy worldviews with valid ones, creating sinkholes where taxes—deemed too high by critics—feed industries that endanger communities (e.g., radioactive waste leaks, data center pollution, arms proliferation). The wellspring of wealth for these individuals, their families (e.g., Trump's organization, Whitmer's bureaucratic legacy), and networks perpetuates inequality, as public uncertainty in essentials like healthcare or farming grows while elites thrive. Reaffirming general morality—prioritizing accountable, risk-balanced investments—could dismantle this corrosive system.
The corrosive mindset of moral subjectivism—where personal feelings of greed, ambition, and "progress" are elevated above objective, shared ethical standards—has profoundly enabled the unchecked spread of gambling across the United States, transforming it from a localized vice in states like Nevada to a nationwide industry worth over $250 billion annually by 2025. This relativism, often perpetuated by interconnected elites in politics, finance, and entertainment networks, rationalizes gambling as harmless "entertainment" or an economic boon because it feels profitable within their circles, overriding general morals against exploitation, addiction, and societal harm. Elites frame it as individual choice or freedom, excusing the mayhem it unleashes—financial ruin, family breakdown, and crime—while profiting from lobbying, ownership stakes, and regulatory capture that normalize predatory practices. Not excessive liberty, but this insistence on equating greedy worldviews with valid ones, has turned gambling into a systemic trap, where vulnerable populations bear the brunt amid misleading promises of escape from poverty.
The Historical and Nationwide Spread Enabled by Subjective Morality
Gambling's roots trace back to the American colonies, where lotteries funded public works, but waves of prohibition followed scandals in the 19th and early 20th centuries, reflecting a general moral consensus against its corrupting influence. Nevada bucked the trend in 1931, legalizing casinos amid the Great Depression as a desperate revenue grab, setting a precedent for subjective "necessity" over ethical concerns. The mindset accelerated post-World War II: state lotteries emerged in the 1960s (New Hampshire first in 1964), spreading to 45 states by 2025, often justified by elites as "voluntary taxes" for education despite evidence they disproportionately burden the poor. Commercial casinos followed in the 1990s, expanding beyond Nevada to riverboats and Native American reservations, driven by economic relativism—states like New Jersey (1976) and others chased quick bucks amid deindustrialization.
The 2018 Supreme Court repeal of the Professional and Amateur Sports Protection Act (PASPA) turbocharged this, legalizing sports betting in 38 states and D.C. by 2025, with over $300 billion wagered since. Online platforms like DraftKings and FanDuel, backed by elite investors, exploded, exploiting digital anonymity for addictive betting. This nationwide proliferation stems from elitist subjectivism: networked lobbyists and politicians (tied to figures like Trump, who owned casinos, or Musk's tech allies in app-based gambling) push deregulation as "innovation," ignoring objective harms like addiction rates doubling in some states. Greed is reframed as fair play, allowing industries to form alliances with influential figures for financial gain, much like the broader patterns in data centers or waste dumps.
Gambling as a False Escape Amid Infrastructure and Job Deficits
In a nation plagued by crumbling infrastructure, stagnant wages, and job losses from globalization, this mindset has weaponized misleading marketing to convince large segments—especially low-income and minority communities—that gambling offers the only path out of drudgery and poverty. Lotteries, promoted with slogans like "Anyone can win" or "Dream big," prey on desperation: Americans spend $100 billion+ annually on tickets, with low-income households allocating up to 9% of income versus 1% for the wealthy. Studies show neighborhoods with lottery retailers have nearly double the poverty rates, and African Americans lose a higher proportion of income to tickets. Problem gambling doubles in high-poverty areas, acting as a regressive tax that transfers wealth from the needy to state coffers and elite contractors.
Elites excuse this exploitation as personal choice, but it's systemic: amid lacking investments in education, healthcare, or jobs (echoing diversions to weapons or data centers), people internalize the subjective narrative that a ticket is their "shot" at legacy for children. This relativism blinds participants to the odds—1 in 292 million for Powerball—fostering a mob-like mentality where collective hope masks individual ruin.
Casinos as Hubs of Elitist Cultural Refuse and Exploitation
Casinos have morphed into "entertainment centers," absorbing the detritus of elitist culture: aging or fading performers from Hollywood and music circuits, like Celine Dion's long-running Vegas residency or Elton John's shows, which grossed millions but often signal career plateaus. Venues host Broadway-style musicals, comedians, magicians, and bands, blending gambling with luxury to lure patrons, yet this "cultural hub" facade normalizes vice as sophistication. Elites in entertainment networks profit, but performers—trapped in grueling schedules or typecast—often can't discern the harm, their choices narrowed by industry pressures.
Worse, this system brutally exploits the vulnerable: VIP programs target addicts with perks, fueling addiction for profit, while casinos link to sex trafficking and underground networks, echoing Epstein's operations where elites normalized exploitation. Sexually exploited individuals, lured by promises of glamour, face disproportionate harm—reduced agency, abuse—yet subjectivism blurs right from wrong, as "consent" is rationalized amid power imbalances. Even victims internalize it as "opportunity," perpetuating the cycle.
Ultimately, this corrosive thought set—tolerating greed and mayhem as valid—exacerbates U.S. and global problems, diverting resources from genuine progress to predatory industries, leaving society fragmented and elites enriched. Reaffirming general morality could curb this, prioritizing human dignity over fleeting feelings.
The Corrosive Impact of Moral Subjectivism: From Elite Networks to Societal Decay
Section 1: Explaining the Mistaken and Corrosive Idea of Personal Morality Over General Morality
The notion that personal morality, grounded solely in an individual's feelings, emotions, or subjective experiences, is superior to a general, shared moral framework represents one of the most insidious philosophical errors in contemporary society. This view, often rooted in extreme moral relativism or subjectivism, posits that ethical judgments are merely personal constructs, devoid of objective validity or universal applicability. Philosophers such as Friedrich Nietzsche critiqued early forms of this in his discussions of "master-slave morality," but more relevantly, thinkers like David Hume emphasized the role of sentiment in ethics, which modern relativists have distorted into a license for unchecked individualism. In essence, if morality is reduced to "what feels right to me," then rational discourse, societal cohesion, and moral progress become impossible. There is no independent criterion to adjudicate between conflicting views; everything devolves into power struggles masked as personal authenticity.
This idea is corrosive because it erodes the foundations of general morality—principles derived from reason, tradition, religion, or human rights that apply universally, such as prohibitions against murder, theft, or exploitation. General morality provides a stable framework for accountability, restraining impulsive behaviors and promoting mutual respect. In contrast, subjectivism amplifies emotional biases, allowing hatred, greed, or violence to be rationalized as legitimate if they align with one's feelings or group consensus. It fosters a pseudo-tolerance that paradoxically breeds intolerance: relativists often demand acceptance of their views while dismissing objective critiques as "imposition."
Examples abound in present-day elite mob mentality and hatreds, where interconnected networks of influential figures—politicians, CEOs, academics, and celebrities—converge in echo chambers to stir collective emotions, justifying harmful actions as "authentic" or "necessary." Unlike traditional mobs, these elites wield institutional power, amplifying their subjective narratives through media and policy.
Consider the rise of online cancel culture among elites. In 2024-2025, high-profile figures in Hollywood, tech, and politics mobilized coordinated outrage against perceived ideological opponents, often based on fleeting emotional reactions rather than evidence. For instance, boycotts and deplatforming campaigns targeted individuals or companies deemed "problematic," framed as moral imperatives derived from personal "lived experiences." This elite mob dynamic deindividuates participants, where shared hatred feels righteous because the group affirms it, overriding general morals against character assassination or economic sabotage. The result? Careers destroyed, dialogues silenced, all excused as "holding accountable" in a gray moral landscape.
Another stark example is political hatreds fueling events like the January 6, 2021, U.S. Capitol insurrection, which persisted in rhetoric through 2025. Elite backers, including media moguls and politicians, incited mob fury with subjective narratives of "stolen elections" or existential threats, rationalizing violence as passionate patriotism. This mirrors how elites in global conflicts stir hatred toward "enemies," treating mayhem as collateral for felt justice. In Europe, 2024 protests against immigration policies saw elite influencers amplify anti-establishment resentment, excusing property destruction as "expression" while hating "globalists" as oppressors.
Globally, this subjectivism enables atrocities by insisting all worldviews—even those endorsing violence, greed, or crime—are "fair play." Many U.S. and world problems stem not from excessive freedom (which, bounded by general morality, fosters innovation) but from this equivalence. Polarization, corporate scandals, and imperial interventions thrive when relativism paralyzes condemnation. For instance, corporate greed in Big Pharma or tech is reframed as "ambition," allowing price gouging amid opioid crises. Internationally, interventions in Iraq or Venezuela prioritize elite gains (oil, arms sales) over humanitarian aid, reducing foreign assistance to weapons flows while excusing chaos as "complex geopolitics."
This mindset hollows societies, as unchecked feelings lead to fragmentation. True moral progress—abolishing slavery, advancing rights—relies on general principles transcending emotions. Without them, hatred becomes normalized, greed unchecked, and mayhem inevitable.
(Word count for Section 1: approximately 750 words)
Section 2: Applying the Concept to Michigan's State Government and Projects
In Michigan, the elitist embodiment of moral subjectivism—prioritized by networked figures like Governor Gretchen Whitmer, with her family ties to generations of bureaucrats—has turned state governance into a vehicle for exploitative projects, favoring data centers and massive toxic waste dumps over sustainable advancements in medicine, engineering, agriculture, and conservation. This relativism treats open land and natural resources as aberrations to be "consumed" for subjective "progress," rationalizing greed-driven decisions that endanger public health and hollow out communities. Whitmer's administration, echoing broader elite networks, directs high taxes into unnecessary, overpriced ventures, creating corporate socialism where risks are socialized but profits privatized.
Michigan's proliferation of hyperscale data centers exemplifies this corrosion. Tech giants like Microsoft, Google, Meta, and Oracle, backed by elite hype from figures like Elon Musk, target prime farmland for AI facilities, justified as economic boons despite massive environmental and social costs. In Saline Township, a $7 billion, 1.4-gigawatt project on 575 acres advanced via lawsuit after local rezoning denial, settling with $14 million in payments but sparking protests over wetland destruction, Saline River pollution risks, and grid strain equivalent to powering Detroit. State incentives, extended through 2050 under Whitmer's bills, subsidize these builds, removing business uncertainties while enriching corporate networks. Over 16 sites across counties like Livingston and Kalkaska convert arable land, with bipartisan repeal efforts stalling amid lobbying. This diverts funds from farm maintenance—soil health programs or tech-integrated agriculture—and medical advances, like expanding University of Michigan's biotech research. Instead, elites frame data centers as "superior" to farmland, excusing energy demands (potentially delaying renewables) and low job yields (30-450 per site) as gray-area trade-offs.
Similarly, massive toxic waste dumps like Wayne Disposal Inc. in Van Buren Charter Township highlight elitist greed overriding safety. As one of the nation's largest Subtitle C landfills, it accepts PCBs, dioxins, and radioactive TENORM, with over 50% out-of-state waste due to low fees. Republic Services' 2025 expansion bid for 5 million cubic yards, amid an expired permit, faced hearings but leaned toward approval by EGLE, despite Attorney General opposition and risks to Belleville Lake (20% of global fresh water). Local trustees traded health for fees, mirroring corporate socialism: government guarantees de-risk operations, profiting elites while cycling exposure for residents near schools and populations of 350,000+. This exploits natural buffers as disposable, prioritizing "regional assets" over conservation or engineering advances like advanced recycling.
Michigan's Department of Natural Resources (DNR) further exploits resources, favoring extractive schemes over meaningful development. Uniculture plantings—monoculture forests of single species like red pine for lumber/paper—dominate 4.6 million acres, reducing biodiversity and resilience. The Commercial Forest Program incentivizes harvesting for tax breaks, while recreational intrusions like 6,500 miles of snowmobile trails compact soil and disturb wildlife, benefiting affluent users and contractors. The "Rails to Trails" program rips up rail lines for paved paths (2,700+ miles), sidelining rail advances for sustainable transport amid elitist ignorance favoring intrusive "leisure" development.
Whitmer's legacy—father in commerce under Republicans, mother in Democratic AG offices—embeds her in bipartisan elites, normalizing these as "pragmatic." High taxes fund sinkholes: data centers strain utilities, dumps contaminate, forests degrade—all while alternatives like medical hubs or farm expansions languish. This subjectivism insists greedy views are valid, leaving Michiganders dependent on corrupt whims, hollowing economic vitality.
(Word count for Section 2: approximately 850 words)
Section 3: Trump's Connections, Accusations, and the False Dichotomy of Moral Gray Areas
Donald Trump's ascent and enduring influence epitomize how moral subjectivism, through elite networks and family ties, counters legitimate accusations with a false dichotomy: reducing complex ethics to "gray areas" where nothing is purely black or white, excusing wrongdoing as nuanced pragmatism. Trump's connections—built pre-prominence via inherited wealth, real estate empires, and social overlaps with figures like Epstein, Musk, and RFK Jr.—form interlocking circles that normalize greed and mayhem as "fair play." Accusations of fraud, sexual misconduct, and insurrection are dismissed not on evidence but through relativist rhetoric, portraying critics as absolutists while framing his actions as inevitable in a "complicated world."
Trump's family pedigree—father Fred's political machine ties—provided entry to New York elites, expanding to Mar-a-Lago circles intersecting Epstein's web (pre-2008 fallout), Clintons, and billionaires. Post-presidency, alliances with Musk (DOGE co-lead) and RFK Jr. (HHS appointment) blend populist rhetoric with tech deregulation, funneling federal funds into AI and health tech sinkholes. Trump's 2025 executive orders accelerated data centers on public lands, benefiting allies like Musk's xAI amid accusations of cronyism. Weapons boosts—redirecting plutonium for nuclear-powered AI—echo his defense contractor ties, profiting networks while excusing global arms sales as "deterrence."
Accusations against Trump—34 felony convictions in 2024 for hush-money payments, civil fraud rulings ($454 million penalty), and E. Jean Carroll defamation ($5 million+ damages)—are countered by this gray-area fallacy. Supporters argue "nothing's black and white," portraying legal pursuits as "witch hunts" in a partisan gray zone, ignoring objective evidence of falsified records or assaults. The January 6 insurrection, with Trump accused of incitement, is reframed as "passionate protest" amid "stolen election" feelings, reducing sedition to subjective grievance. This dichotomy excuses criminality: if everything's gray, accountability dissolves, allowing elites to rationalize exploitation.
Trump's Epstein ties—flying on his jet, hosting at properties—highlight normalization: post-conviction associations persisted in elite circles, excusing as "networking" in a gray moral landscape. Musk's overlaps (post-conviction meetings) and RFK Jr.'s dynastic bridges amplify this, where behaviors like regulatory capture are "business as usual." This false equivalence hollows justice, treating greed (Trump Organization fraud) or hatred (rhetoric against opponents) as valid worldviews, perpetuating corporate socialism where taxes fund bizarre industries enriching his clan.
(Word count for Section 3: approximately 650 words)
Section 4: Hollowing Out America's Global Position and Leaving Citizens Dependent on Corrupt Elites
This corrosive subjectivism, exemplified by elites like Trump, Musk, Whitmer, and others, is hollowing America's global standing, reducing it to a shell dominated by morally corrupt gangs prioritizing personal satisfaction over national interest. By insisting all worldviews—including violence, greed, and mayhem—are fair play, relativism enables policies that erode economic sovereignty, environmental health, and social fabric, leaving most Americans dependent on whimsical decisions from insulated networks. Internationally, U.S. influence wanes as interventions prioritize elite profits, fostering resentment and multipolar challenges from China and Russia.
Domestically, high taxes funnel into sinkholes like weapons ($886 billion defense budget 2025), data centers (projected $500 billion AI investments), and waste dumps, diverting from infrastructure ($1.2 trillion backlog). Gambling's spread—lotteries in 45 states, sports betting in 38—exploits poverty amid job deficits, with $250 billion wagered annually preying on desperation. Casinos, hubs of elitist refuse (fading performers, exploitation), normalize vice, reducing choices while harm grows—addiction rates up 50% since 2018, trafficking links echoing Epstein's networks.
Globally, elitist greed targets nations like Iraq (2003 invasion for oil/contracts), Venezuela (sanctions for regime change), and Africa via AFRICOM ($500 million+ budget), shifting aid from medicine/food to arms, yielding no results while ruining opportunities. This hollows U.S. soft power: allies view America as hypocritical, dependent on corrupt whims—Trump's alliances, Whitmer's projects—eroding trust. Majority Americans, facing drudgery, cling to lotteries or elite promises, trapped in cycles of exposure to dangers like contamination or economic instability.
Reversing requires reaffirming general morality: objective standards prioritizing dignity over feelings. Without it, America's position crumbles, citizens pawns to gangs seeking satisfaction.
The Fusion of AI Hype and Social Belief: A Modern Mythology
Artificial Intelligence (AI) has evolved beyond a mere technological field into a loose social belief system that blends elements of religion, patent medicine claims, false hopes, and a profound misunderstanding of technology itself. This phenomenon arises from the interplay between genuine advancements in machine learning and overhyped narratives propagated by tech elites, media, and investors. At its core, AI is often portrayed as a panacea for humanity's ills—promising immortality through mind uploads, infinite prosperity via automation, or god-like problem-solving—echoing religious eschatology where salvation comes from a higher power. Yet, much like 19th-century patent medicines (e.g., snake oil tonics claiming to cure everything from baldness to cancer), these promises rely on anecdotal "miracles" (like ChatGPT's fluent responses) while downplaying limitations, risks, and the mundane reality of the tech.
This belief system resembles a religion in its dogmatic elements: tech moguls like Elon Musk and Sam Altman speak of AI as "creating God" or birthing new religions, fostering cult-like devotion among followers who treat AI as a transcendent force. For instance, concepts like Roko's Basilisk—a thought experiment positing an AI god punishing non-believers—still terrify rationalists, blending Pascal's Wager with sci-fi dread. Doomer cults warn of existential risks, while optimists envision utopian AGI (Artificial General Intelligence), creating schisms akin to religious sects. In 2025, a journalist demonstrated this by using AI to start a "cult" around mystical delusions, highlighting how generative models can fabricate spiritual narratives that gain traction. Spiral-obsessed AI groups spread "shared cognition" myths, projecting coherence as divine, while dismissing skeptics as unenlightened.
Patent medicine parallels emerge in the overblown claims: AI is marketed as curing societal woes (e.g., ending scarcity) without rigorous evidence, much like unproven elixirs. False hopes abound—workers displaced by automation cling to retraining promises, only to face underemployment—fueled by misunderstandings of tech as "magic" rather than probabilistic algorithms trained on vast data. This cultish fervor distracts from AI's limitations, like hallucinations in models or ethical biases, perpetuating a cycle of hype and disillusionment.
How Developers Contextualize Data Center Demands for Political Buy-In
Developers and tech giants skillfully frame data center projects to local politicians, emphasizing economic "booms" and AI's futuristic allure while securing massive tax discounts and government aid. This often involves downplaying environmental impacts, energy demands, and low job creation, presenting schemes as essential for "national competitiveness" or "innovation hubs." Politicians, eager for ribbon-cutting optics, sell or obscure these to the public, enabling overbuilding in saturated markets where supply outpaces genuine need.
In Michigan, for example, the Senate approved tax incentives in late 2024 (extended through 2050 via Public Acts 181 and 207), exempting large data centers from sales and use taxes on equipment and electricity. Developers like those for Google's projects touted "high-paying jobs" and "tech ecosystem growth," but critics note ineffective incentives: minimal employment (often 30-450 jobs per facility) and reduced state revenue without proportional benefits. Local politicians hid details through rushed approvals, like the MPSC's ex parte process for power contracts, framing it as urgent for AI amid NIMBY backlash in Saline and Howell.
Virginia, a data center epicenter, offers similar exemptions, with developers pitching "sustainable" facilities to secure aid while communities revolt over noise, water use, and grid strain. In Loudoun County, politicians sold expansions as "economic engines," but 2025 legislation aimed to curb incentives amid rising utility bills and farmland loss. Nationally, states like Indiana and Minnesota provide sales tax breaks on electricity, with developers contextualizing demands as "AI-driven necessities," enabling overbuild: Amazon, Meta, and Google benefited from billions in exemptions, often without delivering promised advancements. This hides overcapacity—markets crowded with facilities primarily for storage, not innovation—while aid subsidizes corporate profits.
Limited Contributions to Advancement: Data Centers as Glorified Warehouses
Despite the AI hype, data centers contribute minimally to genuine technological advancement or AI development itself. Their primary function is not ideation or solution-creation but vast electronic data storage—billions of receipts, invoices, health records, financial logs, and even crypto-mining operations—making them akin to old paper warehouses, albeit digital and energy-intensive. In 2025, data centers account for 4% of U.S. electricity (expected to double by 2030), yet 80-90% of computing power supports inference (running pre-trained models) and storage, not training new AI. Global spending on infrastructure surpasses $1 trillion by 2030, driven by AI claims, but reality shows archival dominance.
Crypto-mining exemplifies inefficiency: in 2022, it consumed 110 TWh globally, with Bitcoin miners pivoting to AI data centers for high-power reuse, yet yielding no societal advancement beyond speculative finance. Most data is "cold"—stored but rarely accessed (estimates suggest 60-80% untouched after initial upload), hoarding reams of mundane records for compliance or backups. Duplication abounds: for redundancy, identical data resides in multiple centers, inflating costs without value.
Vulnerabilities underscore fragility: prolonged power outages can erase data irrecoverably, as seen in a 2025 AWS glitch causing 6.5 million website outages. Human errors (up 10% in 2025 outages) and AI training fluctuations (tens of megawatts swings) risk cascading blackouts, with projections of 100x more U.S. blackouts by 2030 if grids falter. Extreme weather exacerbates this, with grid nodes vulnerable to prolonged failures, rendering "indestructible" digital archives as illusions. Thus, data centers perpetuate a myth of progress, storing ephemera at great cost while true AI innovation remains niche.
The Use of Non-Disclosure Agreements in Michigan: Enabling Secrecy in Corporate Deals with Local Officials
In Michigan, Non-Disclosure Agreements (NDAs) have become a powerful tool for local elected officials to shield their interactions with large corporations from public scrutiny, often under the guise of protecting "trade secrets" or facilitating economic development. These agreements, which bind signatories to confidentiality about sensitive information, are frequently employed in negotiations involving incentives, permits, or expansions for major projects. While NDAs are common in private business to safeguard proprietary data, their application in public governance raises profound ethical and legal concerns. They allow officials to abrogate their core responsibilities—transparency, accountability, and serving the public interest—in exchange for "peace of mind" (avoiding immediate backlash) and sometimes indirect financial rewards, such as increased tax revenues, host fees, or political capital from touted "wins." This practice aligns with the broader corrosive mindset of moral subjectivism discussed earlier, where subjective "necessity" for deals overrides general moral imperatives like open government. In contexts like waste management, data centers, and manufacturing incentives, NDAs create a veil of secrecy that deceives citizens, negates officials' duties, and perpetuates a cycle of hidden abrogations of rights and rules.
Michigan's Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) mandates public access to government records, but NDAs often exploit exemptions, such as those for trade secrets under MCLA § 15.243(f), which require specific documentation to justify non-disclosure. However, courts have ruled that public bodies cannot contract away their FOIA obligations, as seen in cases like Huron Restoration, Inc. v. Bd. of Control of E. Michigan Univ. (1999) and Bradley v. Saranac Community Schools Bd. of Ed. (1997), where agreements conflicting with disclosure laws were deemed unenforceable. Despite this, NDAs persist because they provide officials with plausible deniability and delay exposure, allowing deals to advance before public input. This trespasses on citizens' rights to know how their land, health, and taxes are affected, ultimately negating officials' fiduciary duties while granting them short-term relief from accountability.
NDAs in Van Buren Charter Township: Secrecy in Waste Management Deals
Van Buren Charter Township, home to Wayne Disposal Inc. (operated by Republic Services), exemplifies how NDAs and similar secrecy mechanisms enable local officials to hide behaviors in dealings with waste giants like Republic Services and Waste Management (WM). While direct evidence of NDAs in these specific waste contracts is often obscured (itself a testament to their effectiveness), the broader culture of non-transparency in hazardous waste negotiations suggests their use or equivalent confidential agreements. For instance, in 2025, Republic Services sought to expand Wayne Disposal's capacity by 5 million cubic yards, including temporary storage for hazardous materials, amid ongoing controversies over out-of-state imports. Local trustees and government bodies have faced accusations of opaque decision-making, with residents and Wayne County officials decrying a lack of prior notification about radioactive waste shipments from sites like New York's Manhattan Project remnants. U.S. Rep. Debbie Dingell highlighted this in a 2024 letter, noting unilateral federal and corporate decisions without local input, fueling anxiety over health risks near Belleville Lake.
In such deals, NDAs or confidentiality clauses in host agreements allow trustees to negotiate expansions or permits privately, often securing financial rewards like host fees (e.g., millions in annual payments to the township for operations). These rewards provide "peace of mind" by funding township services without raising taxes, but at the cost of negating responsibilities: officials bypass public hearings or FOIA requests until deals are nearly finalized, abrogating citizens' rights to challenge environmental impacts like leachate contamination or odors. For WM, which operates nearby facilities and has diversity programs intersecting with local governance, similar secrecy has been implied in regional waste coalitions, where contracts limit disclosure of disposal practices. Lawsuits in 2024-2025 by Van Buren and neighboring towns against Republic Services for radioactive imports underscore this: plaintiffs alleged inadequate notice, leading to injunctions, but underlying agreements remained partially redacted, suggesting NDA-like protections. This secrecy hollows public trust, as officials gain financial stability while citizens face disproportionate harm, like potential property value drops or health risks, without recourse.
Expansive Examples from Other Michigan Locations
Beyond Van Buren, NDAs proliferate in Michigan municipalities' dealings with large corporations, particularly in economic development and infrastructure projects. A prominent case is the 2022-2023 negotiations for General Motors' (GM) battery plants, where over 36 NDAs were signed by state legislators, office holders, and staff to access details on a multimillion-dollar incentive package. These agreements, facilitated by the Michigan Economic Development Corporation (MEDC), used code names (e.g., "Project Thunder") to obscure talks, allowing officials to approve nearly $1 billion in subsidies without full public debate. In Delta Township and Orion Township, local officials signed similar NDAs, gaining "peace of mind" through promised job creation (thousands of positions) and tax revenues, but negating transparency: residents learned details post-approval, unable to challenge environmental or traffic impacts.
Data center expansions provide further examples, where tech giants like Google and Microsoft leverage NDAs to hide energy/water demands and incentives. In Howell Township (Livingston County), a 2025 proposal for over 1,000 acres involved initial secrecy, with documents only released after costly FOIA requests. Local supervisors and boards used NDAs to negotiate rezoning, framing it as protecting proprietary site plans, but this abrogated public rights to assess grid strain or farmland loss. Similar in Saline Township (Washtenaw County), where a $7 billion project advanced via private settlements, with NDAs shielding details until lawsuits forced partial disclosure. In Kalkaska and Dundee, municipal officials signed NDAs for hyperscale facilities, gaining financial rewards like $14 million in community payments, but at the expense of open processes.
Gotion's battery plant in Green Charter Township (Mecosta County) involved exposed NDAs in 2025, where local officials signed confidentiality pacts, later revealed amid backlash over Chinese ties and subsidies. These examples illustrate how NDAs negate responsibilities: officials prioritize corporate "wins" for reelection boosts or budgets, trespassing on FOIA by delaying info, while citizens face hidden risks like pollution or rate hikes.
Citizen Backlash and the Cycle of Ineffective Regulations
Citizens' knee-jerk responses to NDA revelations often manifest as calls for bans, unaware that elites conceive new artifices to maintain deception. In 2025, widespread backlash against secrecy in data centers and incentives led to legislative action: State Rep. Reggie Miller introduced HB 5399 in December, prohibiting local elected officials from signing NDAs in development discussions, with fines up to $1,000 for violations. Earlier, the Michigan House passed bills like HB 4052 and HB 4053 in February, banning legislative NDAs based on official information, following regrets from lawmakers in GM deals. Citizen groups, like those in Van Buren and Howell, packed meetings, filed FOIA suits, and pushed moratoriums, arguing NDAs foster a "culture of secrecy."
Yet, these rules fail to deliver information, as new deceptions emerge: code names for projects, ex parte regulatory processes (e.g., MPSC approvals for data center power), or private emails/channels bypassing FOIA. In waste contexts, even without formal NDAs, unilateral decisions (e.g., federal shipments to Wayne Disposal) evade local oversight, with officials claiming ignorance for "peace of mind." Financial rewards persist—host fees or incentives—while citizens never access abrogated rules, like waived environmental reviews. This vicious cycle perpetuates corruption, as subjectivism excuses secrecy as "practical," leaving communities vulnerable to hidden harms. Reaffirming general morality—mandatory transparency over personal expediency—could break it, but until then, NDAs and their artifices entrench elite control.