‘Before You Wake’: Erick Erickson Shares the Story Behind His New Book

What is it like to fear that you and your spouse will both die and leave your kids?

Conservative blogger Erick Erickson and his wife recently faced devastating health crises at the same time, something Erickson has written about on The Resurgent.

“I have to tell you that American politics really does not matter when you have kids and are dying,” Erickson wrote earlier this month. “You begin to seriously ask yourself what you want your kids to know if you’re gone. My kids, were they to learn about me from Google, would really only know what people who hate me think about me.”

Late last year, Erickson wrote a piece styled as a letter to his young children titled “If I Should Die Before You Wake,” calling them to a life of purpose and joy. He has since expanded the project into 10 letters that became a book. “Before You Wake: Life Lessons from a Father to His Children” was released earlier this month.

This article provided courtesy of TheBlaze.

GLENN: In the midst of twin medical crisis, the 2016 presidential campaign was in full swing. And I was a conservative who didn't support Donald Trump.

Protesters showed up at our home. People sent us hate mail. They called my office daily demanding that I would be fired. Everybody was convinced that I had destroyed my career. Our house had to be protected by guards. My two children were yelled at in the store by an angry man, who was angry at me for not supporting Donald Trump. At school, other kids made sure that they knew that their dad was not liked in their household.

Some of them wondered aloud if something bad was going to happen to us.

These are the words of Erick Erickson.

STU: Erick is, of course, radio host and commentator. And the book is called Before You Wake. And he joins us now.

GLENN: Erick, you're one of my heroes, brother. How are you?

ERICK: I'm well. Thanks for having me. Appreciate that.

GLENN: So, Erick, tell me -- first of all, for anyone else doesn't know, tell us about the twin health care crisis you were facing.

ERICK: Oh. So I just assumed it was the stress of last year, back in April, having protesters at the house and my kids yelled at, at the grocery store. And I was having a harder and harder time breathing. My chest was tight. Went into the hospital. And got wheeled into an ICU unit, not expected to make the night. My lungs had filled up with blood clots. Blood oxygen less than 90 percent dying. And, literally, as they're pushing me into a CT scan to scan my lungs, the doctors from the Mayo Clinic called my wife and told her, they think she might have a rare form of cancer. She needed to come out with a lung biopsy. And sure enough, she has a rare, incurable genetic form of lung cancer. And so we're going through all of that, as we're having protesters at our house. Armed guards protecting us. My kids coming home from school, crying with other kids, saying I'm going to get shot for not supporting the president. Their parents hating me. It was a -- 2016 was a rather miserable year in the Erickson household.

GLENN: So you started to write this book because you didn't die. And you wanted your kids to know the truth about you.

ERICK: Yeah, I did. And I really did think for a while, what happens -- if Christie and I, if something happens to us. I remember walking into the bedroom one night and told Christie, I just did not know that I would survive the week. And she just burst out crying that she had made a deal with God, one of us had to survive for the kids.

And I thought I need to actually sit down and write to my kids. What do I want you to know about your family, about God, about faith, and what are your favorite recipes, in case something happened to your parents? How would you make the cinnamon rolls I make for you? And it all wound up being a book that's prat book and part life lessons and part biography.

You know, I'm mindful, if my kids were to Google me tomorrow -- there's a joke in our kid's school, that I'm the one parent they're not allowed to use as an example for Google. Because God knows what they'll find on me. I want my kids to know the true things, the bad things I've done, the good things I've done, and why I want them to believe in God, so on the other side of eternity, we'll see each other again.

STU: Erick, what did going through all this teach you about prioritization?

ERICK: Oh, you know, my life involves politics, on radio, on the Resurgent. On TV. And I want my kids to understand that I think it is far more important for them to have a relationship with their next-door neighbor. Whether they agree politically or not, than to be online yelling people about the politics of the day. There's so much more to like than politics.

GLENN: You -- you actually -- you actually wrote something. I'm trying to find it here. I read it this morning again, about how you just -- the social media thing is just -- you feel is a real problem.

ERICK: Yeah. You know, I think Twitter, in particular, brings the worst out in all of us. Myself included.

You know, there's that scene in the Bible where Jesus -- I'm actually in seminary right now. We studied this two weeks ago, where the possessed man comes to Jesus. And he says to the demon possessing, what is your name? And the demon says, Legion.

And Christ throws the Legion into the swarm of pigs, which runs down the bank and drowns in the lake. And I think what the Bible leaves off after that, is that after the pigs have drowned and the demons get out of the bigs, they all got Twitter accounts. And you see that so much online. I mean, it brings out the worst in all of us. And I swear hell's army is on Twitter.

And I want my kids to get their sense of self-worth by being ethical people created in the image of God, not because they got a bunch of retweets or likes on Instagram or Facebook.

GLENN: I want to quote a couple of things. I always try to forgive. As I've gotten older and dumber, I've come to realize how much more I need forgiveness and how often people refuse to forgive.

First of all, give me that.

ERICK: Well, you know, there's a lot less grease in the world today. And I've done dumb things in my life. Things I regret. And I find ten years later, people still want to throw them in my face of, you're no moral authority on this because look at what you did ten years ago.

And I -- I can't tell someone to get over that, but I can get over it myself with other people. I can show forgiveness to other people who have done good and not still define them by the bad things they've done.

I think more and more in this world, people want to define you by the worst thing you did, no matter how long ago it is. And if we do that to each other, we have no incentive to improve as people, because we'll always be defined by that.

GLENN: So, Erick, I was up in Nantucket, in a conference, at a summit. And I was --

STU: Popular? Is that the word you were looking for?

GLENN: I was pretty popular up there.

ERICK: That's one for Nantucket.

GLENN: Yeah. And so I was up there for three days. And it had been a horrible, horrible experience. And there were other things that happened in my life at the time that just -- I mean, it broke me. It broke me in half. That weekend was just a really hard weekend for me.

And I had to speak on Sunday. A second time to this crowd.

And I've never -- I got up in the morning, and I was -- it was -- I was in the bathroom. In front of the mirror. And I was on my knees, when my wife came in.

And she said, honey, what's wrong?

And I said, mercy. I don't believe there's mercy anymore. And I've never understood the plea for mercy more than I do right now.

It's -- it's a remarkable gift that I think Facebook and Twitter -- you're exactly right, will never allow you to move forward.

ERICK: Yeah. I think that's true. And I think that's why we have an obligation to do it. And, you know, I -- I decided a couple years ago. I kept getting asked to give Sunday sermons in small churches around Georgia. I talk about culture and faith on my radio show. And decided I probably ought to go to seminary, which was the greatest thing I did. Although, the moment I went, I stopped getting the invitations to preach, when I found out where I was going, to seminary. But I love it.

And we spend a lot of time on this topic. And one of the things that's made me appreciate it is that, our ways aren't their ways. And we need to be a light in the world. And whether you're a person of faith or a conservative, however you view yourself, you need to be a light in the world. And you start by showing grace and extending mercy to people who don't do it to you. And show that your way actually is a way forward. And I -- I don't know that there's enough of that. And I fear that as conservatives who look more and more towards political solutions to spiritual problems, that they're going to be to become more tribal as well and not show grace and mercy the other way. And those of us who do, I think, stand out more and more. And that's not a prideful thing. It's a humble thing, knowing that you've got to be willing to extend the hand to people who don't want to extend the hand to you. But you still got to make yourself do it.

GLENN: It's amazing. It's almost -- if I ask a crowd of Christians how many believe in the gospel of Christ. They'll all raise their hand.

ERICK: Uh-huh.

GLENN: If I say, will you really follow it, they'll all raise their hand. But even Peter denied Jesus three times. Even Peter.

Worse. You know, Judas sold him out.

ERICK: Right.

GLENN: I'm not sure how many of us are even at Peter's level because it's not that hard to offer mercy and forgiveness to people who are saying and doing horrible things to you or to your country or whatever. And trying to have compassion and forgiveness -- and empathy for them.

And yet so many Christians see that as a sign of weakness.

ERICK: Well, you know, one of the things I wrote in the book for my kids. And I hope one day they will read this. Is that my wife has a very hard time with grudges. And she will admit it. And I have told her, as I wrote in the book, that if you can't forgive someone, you are saying that your conscience was pricked more than Jesus', who having been beaten, tortured, bloodied, and nailed to a cross, on a cross, before he died, said, "Forgive them." If you can't forgive someone for slighting you after what they did to him and he said forgive them, you're saying you were -- you were abused more than he was on the cross.

GLENN: She must love that when you say that to her.

ERICK: Oh, yeah. Well, let me tell you, it puts me in the doghouse. But sometimes you got to make your wife feel guilty. Because she's making me feel guilty every day. I mean, she guilted me into buying her a Harley. She said, I've got cancer. You have to buy me a motorcycle. So I had to.

STU: Erick, God forbid something does happen to you. You know your kids will obviously read this book. But if everything goes okay, at what point do you become angry at them for not reading it while you're alive? What is the age?

ERICK: Maybe when they're in their 20s. My 12-year-old has tried twice. And she can't get past the introduction.

STU: Okay. That's a good line. At least they know where their line is to be a good kid.

GLENN: So, Erick, I've been concentrating lately on what matters most in my own life. And I think we can all get to this point to where you say, this is garbage. I mean, what I'm doing maybe is garbage. What I'm thinking is garbage. What I'm pursuing is garbage. Whatever. And you start to look and say, "What matters most?"

ERICK: Yes.

GLENN: You're in a political position. What matters most?

ERICK: I always fall back on the first question in the shared catacysm of the Catholic and Protestant. What's the chief end of man? To glorify God or enjoy him forever? And it doesn't matter what I do in life. As long as I think I'm glorifying God, then it's okay. And I'm in politics. And I spend a lot of time trying now to write about conforming my politics to my faith instead of my faith to my politics. And it's made it much more difficult in life to have that realization, I have to do that. But I think as long as I'm doing that, I'm okay. And people might hate me. They may stop listening to me or stop reading me. But I think I'm in the right place.

GLENN: How has that manifested itself with you?

ERICK: It makes me much more difficult for me to find the easy solution. Whether it's on immigration or crime or anything else. There's lots of easy solutions when you abandon your faith. And when you have your faith, there's a more difficult balancing act. But I'm also challenged by that. And I like that challenge of doing it every day. And honestly, I sleep well at night. And there is an art to sleeping well at night. And part of it is understanding there are real priorities, and policies isn't one of them.

GLENN: Erick Erickson, thank you so much. Appreciate it.

ERICK: Thank you.

(music)

STU: Erick Erickson. Of course, he started the Resurgent, the website. You definitely should be reading, as well as Before You Wake: Life Lessons From a Father to His Children is the new book. We'll tweet that out, @worldofStu. And @GlennBeck.

The truth behind ‘defense’: How America was rebranded for war

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Donald Trump emphasizes peace through strength, reminding the world that the United States is willing to fight to win. That’s beyond ‘defense.’

President Donald Trump made headlines this week by signaling a rebrand of the Defense Department — restoring its original name, the Department of War.

At first, I was skeptical. “Defense” suggests restraint, a principle I consider vital to U.S. foreign policy. “War” suggests aggression. But for the first 158 years of the republic, that was the honest name: the Department of War.

A Department of War recognizes the truth: The military exists to fight and, if necessary, to win decisively.

The founders never intended a permanent standing army. When conflict came — the Revolution, the War of 1812, the trenches of France, the beaches of Normandy — the nation called men to arms, fought, and then sent them home. Each campaign was temporary, targeted, and necessary.

From ‘war’ to ‘military-industrial complex’

Everything changed in 1947. President Harry Truman — facing the new reality of nuclear weapons, global tension, and two world wars within 20 years — established a full-time military and rebranded the Department of War as the Department of Defense. Americans resisted; we had never wanted a permanent army. But Truman convinced the country it was necessary.

Was the name change an early form of political correctness? A way to soften America’s image as a global aggressor? Or was it simply practical? Regardless, the move created a permanent, professional military. But it also set the stage for something Truman’s successor, President Dwight “Ike” Eisenhower, famously warned about: the military-industrial complex.

Ike, the five-star general who commanded Allied forces in World War II and stormed Normandy, delivered a harrowing warning during his farewell address: The military-industrial complex would grow powerful. Left unchecked, it could influence policy and push the nation toward unnecessary wars.

And that’s exactly what happened. The Department of Defense, with its full-time and permanent army, began spending like there was no tomorrow. Weapons were developed, deployed, and sometimes used simply to justify their existence.

Peace through strength

When Donald Trump said this week, “I don’t want to be defense only. We want defense, but we want offense too,” some people freaked out. They called him a warmonger. He isn’t. Trump is channeling a principle older than him: peace through strength. Ronald Reagan preached it; Trump is taking it a step further.

Just this week, Trump also suggested limiting nuclear missiles — hardly the considerations of a warmonger — echoing Reagan, who wanted to remove missiles from silos while keeping them deployable on planes.

The seemingly contradictory move of Trump calling for a Department of War sends a clear message: He wants Americans to recognize that our military exists not just for defense, but to project power when necessary.

Trump has pointed to something critically important: The best way to prevent war is to have a leader who knows exactly who he is and what he will do. Trump signals strength, deterrence, and resolve. You want to negotiate? Great. You don’t? Then we’ll finish the fight decisively.

That’s why the world listens to us. That’s why nations come to the table — not because Trump is reckless, but because he means what he says and says what he means. Peace under weakness invites aggression. Peace under strength commands respect.

Trump is the most anti-war president we’ve had since Jimmy Carter. But unlike Carter, Trump isn’t weak. Carter’s indecision emboldened enemies and made the world less safe. Trump’s strength makes the country stronger. He believes in peace as much as any president. But he knows peace requires readiness for war.

Names matter

When we think of “defense,” we imagine cybersecurity, spy programs, and missile shields. But when we think of “war,” we recall its harsh reality: death, destruction, and national survival. Trump is reminding us what the Department of Defense is really for: war. Not nation-building, not diplomacy disguised as military action, not endless training missions. War — full stop.

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Names matter. Words matter. They shape identity and character. A Department of Defense implies passivity, a posture of reaction. A Department of War recognizes the truth: The military exists to fight and, if necessary, to win decisively.

So yes, I’ve changed my mind. I’m for the rebranding to the Department of War. It shows strength to the world. It reminds Americans, internally and externally, of the reality we face. The Department of Defense can no longer be a euphemism. Our military exists for war — not without deterrence, but not without strength either. And we need to stop deluding ourselves.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Censorship, spying, lies—The Deep State’s web finally unmasked

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From surveillance abuse to censorship, the deep state used state power and private institutions to suppress dissent and influence two US elections.

The term “deep state” has long been dismissed as the province of cranks and conspiracists. But the recent declassification of two critical documents — the Durham annex, released by Sen. Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa), and a report publicized by Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard — has rendered further denial untenable.

These documents lay bare the structure and function of a bureaucratic, semi-autonomous network of agencies, contractors, nonprofits, and media entities that together constitute a parallel government operating alongside — and at times in opposition to — the duly elected one.

The ‘deep state’ is a self-reinforcing institutional machine — a decentralized, global bureaucracy whose members share ideological alignment.

The disclosures do not merely recount past abuses; they offer a schematic of how modern influence operations are conceived, coordinated, and deployed across domestic and international domains.

What they reveal is not a rogue element operating in secret, but a systematized apparatus capable of shaping elections, suppressing dissent, and laundering narratives through a transnational network of intelligence, academia, media, and philanthropic institutions.

Narrative engineering from the top

According to Gabbard’s report, a pivotal moment occurred on December 9, 2016, when the Obama White House convened its national security leadership in the Situation Room. Attendees included CIA Director John Brennan, Director of National Intelligence James Clapper, National Security Agency Director Michael Rogers, FBI Deputy Director Andrew McCabe, Attorney General Loretta Lynch, Secretary of State John Kerry, and others.

During this meeting, the consensus view up to that point — that Russia had not manipulated the election outcome — was subordinated to new instructions.

The record states plainly: The intelligence community was directed to prepare an assessment “per the President’s request” that would frame Russia as the aggressor and then-presidential candidate Donald Trump as its preferred candidate. Notably absent was any claim that new intelligence had emerged. The motivation was political, not evidentiary.

This maneuver became the foundation for the now-discredited 2017 intelligence community assessment on Russian election interference. From that point on, U.S. intelligence agencies became not neutral evaluators of fact but active participants in constructing a public narrative designed to delegitimize the incoming administration.

Institutional and media coordination

The ODNI report and the Durham annex jointly describe a feedback loop in which intelligence is laundered through think tanks and nongovernmental organizations, then cited by media outlets as “independent verification.” At the center of this loop are agencies like the CIA, FBI, and ODNI; law firms such as Perkins Coie; and NGOs such as the Open Society Foundations.

According to the Durham annex, think tanks including the Atlantic Council, the Carnegie Endowment, and the Center for a New American Security were allegedly informed of Clinton’s 2016 plan to link Trump to Russia. These institutions, operating under the veneer of academic independence, helped diffuse the narrative into public discourse.

Media coordination was not incidental. On the very day of the aforementioned White House meeting, the Washington Post published a front-page article headlined “Obama Orders Review of Russian Hacking During Presidential Campaign” — a story that mirrored the internal shift in official narrative. The article marked the beginning of a coordinated media campaign that would amplify the Trump-Russia collusion narrative throughout the transition period.

Surveillance and suppression

Surveillance, once limited to foreign intelligence operations, was turned inward through the abuse of FISA warrants. The Steele dossier — funded by the Clinton campaign via Perkins Coie and Fusion GPS — served as the basis for wiretaps on Trump affiliates, despite being unverified and partially discredited. The FBI even altered emails to facilitate the warrants.

ROBYN BECK / Contributor | Getty Images

This capacity for internal subversion reappeared in 2020, when 51 former intelligence officials signed a letter labeling the Hunter Biden laptop story as “Russian disinformation.” According to polling, 79% of Americans believed truthful coverage of the laptop could have altered the election. The suppression of that story — now confirmed as authentic — was election interference, pure and simple.

A machine, not a ‘conspiracy theory’

The deep state is a self-reinforcing institutional machine — a decentralized, global bureaucracy whose members share ideological alignment and strategic goals.

Each node — law firms, think tanks, newsrooms, federal agencies — operates with plausible deniability. But taken together, they form a matrix of influence capable of undermining electoral legitimacy and redirecting national policy without democratic input.

The ODNI report and the Durham annex mark the first crack in the firewall shielding this machine. They expose more than a political scandal buried in the past. They lay bare a living system of elite coordination — one that demands exposure, confrontation, and ultimately dismantling.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Trump's proposal explained: Ukraine's path to peace without NATO expansion

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Strategic compromise, not absolute victory, often ensures lasting stability.

When has any country been asked to give up land it won in a war? Even if a nation is at fault, the punishment must be measured.

After World War I, Germany, the main aggressor, faced harsh penalties under the Treaty of Versailles. Germans resented the restrictions, and that resentment fueled the rise of Adolf Hitler, ultimately leading to World War II. History teaches that justice for transgressions must avoid creating conditions for future conflict.

Ukraine and Russia must choose to either continue the cycle of bloodshed or make difficult compromises in pursuit of survival and stability.

Russia and Ukraine now stand at a similar crossroads. They can cling to disputed land and prolong a devastating war, or they can make concessions that might secure a lasting peace. The stakes could not be higher: Tens of thousands die each month, and the choice between endless bloodshed and negotiated stability hinges on each side’s willingness to yield.

History offers a guide. In 1967, Israel faced annihilation. Surrounded by hostile armies, the nation fought back and seized large swaths of territory from Jordan, Egypt, and Syria. Yet Israel did not seek an empire. It held only the buffer zones needed for survival and returned most of the land. Security and peace, not conquest, drove its decisions.

Peace requires concessions

Secretary of State Marco Rubio says both Russia and Ukraine will need to “get something” from a peace deal. He’s right. Israel proved that survival outweighs pride. By giving up land in exchange for recognition and an end to hostilities, it stopped the cycle of war. Egypt and Israel have not fought in more than 50 years.

Russia and Ukraine now press opposing security demands. Moscow wants a buffer to block NATO. Kyiv, scarred by invasion, seeks NATO membership — a pledge that any attack would trigger collective defense by the United States and Europe.

President Donald Trump and his allies have floated a middle path: an Article 5-style guarantee without full NATO membership. Article 5, the core of NATO’s charter, declares that an attack on one is an attack on all. For Ukraine, such a pledge would act as a powerful deterrent. For Russia, it might be more palatable than NATO expansion to its border

Andrew Harnik / Staff | Getty Images

Peace requires concessions. The human cost is staggering: U.S. estimates indicate 20,000 Russian soldiers died in a single month — nearly half the total U.S. casualties in Vietnam — and the toll on Ukrainians is also severe. To stop this bloodshed, both sides need to recognize reality on the ground, make difficult choices, and anchor negotiations in security and peace rather than pride.

Peace or bloodshed?

Both Russia and Ukraine claim deep historical grievances. Ukraine arguably has a stronger claim of injustice. But the question is not whose parchment is older or whose deed is more valid. The question is whether either side is willing to trade some land for the lives of thousands of innocent people. True security, not historical vindication, must guide the path forward.

History shows that punitive measures or rigid insistence on territorial claims can perpetuate cycles of war. Germany’s punishment after World War I contributed directly to World War II. By contrast, Israel’s willingness to cede land for security and recognition created enduring peace. Ukraine and Russia now face the same choice: Continue the cycle of bloodshed or make difficult compromises in pursuit of survival and stability.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

The loneliness epidemic: Are machines replacing human connection?

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Seniors, children, and the isolated increasingly rely on machines for conversation, risking real relationships and the emotional depth that only humans provide.

Jill Smola is 75 years old. She’s a retiree from Orlando, Florida, and she spent her life caring for the elderly. She played games, assembled puzzles, and offered company to those who otherwise would have sat alone.

Now, she sits alone herself. Her husband has died. She has a lung condition. She can’t drive. She can’t leave her home. Weeks can pass without human interaction.

Loneliness is an epidemic. And AI will not fix it. It will only dull the edges and make a diminished life tolerable.

But CBS News reports that she has a new companion. And she likes this companion more than her own daughter.

The companion? Artificial intelligence.

She spends five hours a day talking to her AI friend. They play games, do trivia, and just talk. She says she even prefers it to real people.

My first thought was simple: Stop this. We are losing our humanity.

But as I sat with the story, I realized something uncomfortable. Maybe we’ve already lost some of our humanity — not to AI, but to ourselves.

Outsourcing presence

How often do we know the right thing to do yet fail to act? We know we should visit the lonely. We know we should sit with someone in pain. We know what Jesus would do: Notice the forgotten, touch the untouchable, offer time and attention without outsourcing compassion.

Yet how often do we just … talk about it? On the radio, online, in lectures, in posts. We pontificate, and then we retreat.

I asked myself: What am I actually doing to close the distance between knowing and doing?

Human connection is messy. It’s inconvenient. It takes patience, humility, and endurance. AI doesn’t challenge you. It doesn’t interrupt your day. It doesn’t ask anything of you. Real people do. Real people make us confront our pride, our discomfort, our loneliness.

We’ve built an economy of convenience. We can have groceries delivered, movies streamed, answers instantly. But friendships — real relationships — are slow, inefficient, unpredictable. They happen in the blank spaces of life that we’ve been trained to ignore.

And now we’re replacing that inefficiency with machines.

AI provides comfort without challenge. It eliminates the risk of real intimacy. It’s an elegant coping mechanism for loneliness, but a poor substitute for life. If we’re not careful, the lonely won’t just be alone — they’ll be alone with an anesthetic, a shadow that never asks for anything, never interrupts, never makes them grow.

Reclaiming our humanity

We need to reclaim our humanity. Presence matters. Not theory. Not outrage. Action.

It starts small. Pull up a chair for someone who eats alone. Call a neighbor you haven’t spoken to in months. Visit a nursing home once a month — then once a week. Ask their names, hear their stories. Teach your children how to be present, to sit with someone in grief, without rushing to fix it.

Turn phones off at dinner. Make Sunday afternoons human time. Listen. Ask questions. Don’t post about it afterward. Make the act itself sacred.

Humility is central. We prefer machines because we can control them. Real people are inconvenient. They interrupt our narratives. They demand patience, forgiveness, and endurance. They make us confront ourselves.

A friend will challenge your self-image. A chatbot won’t.

Our homes are quieter. Our streets are emptier. Loneliness is an epidemic. And AI will not fix it. It will only dull the edges and make a diminished life tolerable.

Before we worry about how AI will reshape humanity, we must first practice humanity. It can start with 15 minutes a day of undivided attention, presence, and listening.

Change usually comes when pain finally wins. Let’s not wait for that. Let’s start now. Because real connection restores faster than any machine ever will.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.