Today we discuss the tension between social justice and politics by examining whether voters expect too much honesty from politicians or tolerate too much dishonesty. When we hear that a candidate hasn’t accurately presented his background, are we hearing a simple mistake as to the facts or an intentional misrepresentation?

And if it was an intentional misrepresentation, what do we do about it? Balance that misrepresentation with the candidate’s qualities? Reject him outright? How much of a misrepresentation is required before we reject a candidate?

Maryland Governor Wes Moore claimed in 2006 to have received the Bronze Star for his service in Afghanistan, when he actually received the less prestigious Army Commendation Medal. Other questions arose about how much combat time he had. Oddly, a Bronze Star was awarded in 2024, well after he resigned from the Army. Do these inconsistencies evidence a character flaw and lack of fitness for higher office, or should they be overlooked?

U.S. Senate candidate Graham Platner, who was very popular with those who saw him as a way to help counter President Trump, was able to attribute to PTSD his offensive social media posts and ignorance about a prominent tattoo being a Nazi symbol. Platner’s story seemed to make sense until it didn’t—when credible allegations about sexual assault hit the news.

Now that Platner is out of the picture, the Democratic Party has to examine how virtue, or lack of it, should be balanced against electability, as well the risk that comes with inadequate vetting, and the notion that the “ends justify the means” politics.

Based on the law it passed in 2025, the statehouse seems to believe that college professors have the power to indoctrinate students, and so SB 1 limits what college professors can teach. The reality is, students’ views are shaped largely by peers and broader experiences.

Our guest today is Pranav Jani, an Ohio State University Associate Professor of English and the producer of the podcast “Together We Rise: Solidarity Stories from Central Ohio.” Jani disagrees with the view espoused by the law’s sponsors. As Jani sees it, students seldom adopt wholesale what they hear from their professors. If anything, students are more inclined to challenge whatever they are told.

Jani tries to create a democratic, collaborative classroom to education, and while he discloses his views to his students, his grading is based on how they argue their positions and the research they use to support those positions. Contrary to what Ohio Sen. Jerry Cirino, R-Kirtland, and the other supporters of SB 1 may think, the goal of professors is not to indoctrinate students but to promote critical thinking.

Jani discusses with his students, among other things, controversies around activism, Palestine, and shifting definitions of “controversial.” In contrast, SB1 promotes an agenda-driven syllabus that restricts academic freedom.

Free speech, Jani explains, differs from academic freedom. Free speech is the right to say anything. Academic freedom is the idea that professors have the right to follow the research wherever it may lead, meaning professors should be allowed to teach the truth, even if it’s unpopular.

Health care systems can tie up their physicians for years though noncompete agreements which preclude them from moving to a competitor. For rural health care systems where there are not enough physicians to begin with, this is a big recruiting problem.

Our guest today is Paul Westbrook, Vice President and General Legal Counsel for Memorial Health System.

Paul explains that physicians who sign noncompete agreements and want to relocate—for whatever reason—are stuck. A noncompete agreement will generally preclude them from working for another system for a year or two and within a certain radius of their current employer. So, it’s either stay put, stop practicing medicine or hire an attorney and challenge the noncompete agreement in court.

In Paul’s view, there’s no justification for any of this. Trade secrets or intellectual property are seldom at risk, even though health care systems might argue otherwise. The reality is, health care systems—most of which are non-profits—want to control their physicians.

Memorial Health System is unique in Ohio for not utilizing noncompete agreements. Years back, Paul reviewed the physician employment contracts MHS used and questioned whether the noncompete provisions should be retained. Paul was concerned about the fact that rural healthcare systems like MHS struggle to retain primary care physicians and that noncompete agreements disproportionately impact these systems0.

MHS’s CEO at the time agreed. MHS stopped using noncompete agreements and focused, instead, on treating its physicians as true partners and with professional courtesy. The result: MHS physicians rarely leave for competitors.

But physicians seeking employment with MHS are often unable because of noncompete agreements, and so MHS has challenged those agreements in court. One of those lawsuits involves OhioHealth.

Perhaps the legislature will take note. Other states have already prohibited noncompete agreements. MHS just might help change the legal landscape for physicians.

Listen to the conversation.

How did the phrase, “diversity, equity and inclusion”—DEI—which sounds like a positive thing, get such a bad rap? The answer lies in how the concept has often been introduced.

Our guest, Dr. Melissa Crum, explains that most people aren’t reacting to the actual idea of DEI; they’re reacting to how the idea was introduced. Instead of hearing, “Let’s look at systems that create problems,” people hear, “Oh, I’m the problem?!” And once that happens, people shut down.

Dr. Crum helps people separate themselves as individuals from the systems they live in. She’s not telling her listeners they’re bad people. She tells them there are larger patterns in which we all operate. When people hear that distinction, meaningful conversation happens.

Dr. Crum reflects on power in everyday moments. Even something as simple as how you talk to server in a restaurant can reflect a power dynamic. It’s about being aware that not everyone you deal with has the same ability, or relative power, to respond or push back in those moments.

Context matters. A word or phrase that feels harmless—or even friendly—to one person might carry a completely different meaning for someone else based on their experiences. Instead of assuming everyone hears things the same way, Dr. Crum encourages us to be a little more curious and flexible in how we communicate.

Promoting inclusion doesn’t come with one training session. This is a marathon, not a sprint. You can’t expect people to completely rethink years—or decades—of assumptions in a couple hours. That’s part of why some of those past trainings backfired. People were overwhelmed, and nothing really stuck.

Promoting DEI means examining how an organization actually functions. Just saying, “We value inclusion,” does nothing, but defining what inclusion means in real situations—like hiring, promotions, meetings, decision-making—brings meaningful change.

And what does a business get in return? Employees who feel valued are engaged in their work. Turnover decreases, and productivity increases. DEI is good for business.

What has caused the rise in political violence in the United States that culminated with the January 6 insurrection? In part, our government’s uneven and counterproductive responses to jihad terrorism.

After 9/11, U.S. policy was disproportionately harsh toward Muslims while being comparatively lenient toward violence committed by far-right actors. This imbalance, according to our guest, Laura Dugan, Ph.D., professor of sociology at The Ohio State University, created both backlash and blind spots.

On one hand, aggressive policies—mass detentions and heightened surveillance—fueled resentment and contributed to the global spread of extremist movements. On the other, the failure to consistently label as “terrorism” acts of violence committed by white perpetrators and punish them signaled a degree of tolerance, or at least inconsistency, in law enforcement. This disparity helped normalize far-right extremism and allowed it to grow largely unchecked.

Terrorism should be defined by behavior, not identity. Using a widely accepted definition—violence or the threat of violence for political purposes—Dr. Dugan argues that parts of the January 6 attack clearly meet the threshold for terrorism, particularly the organized efforts to disrupt the certification of a presidential election. At the same time, she distinguishes between the planners of the event and the individuals who may have been swept up in the moment without intent to commit terrorism.

Far-right extremism has deep historical roots, dating back decades through movements like the Ku Klux Klan and anti-government militias. These groups have long promoted an “us versus them” worldview, often fueled by perceived existential threats. Political rhetoric that reinforces these fears—especially language that “others” specific groups—can amplify and legitimize extremist beliefs.

Focusing only on behavior, without understanding underlying grievances and ideologies, limits the ability to intervene early. Effective policy requires proportional responses, consistent accountability, and leadership that avoids dehumanizing language and instead encourages dialogue across divisions.

Today, we look into the world of conservative political commentary and focus on Ben Shapiro. At the heart of Shapiro’s approach to messaging is a bent for spouting more fiction than fact and more emotion than reason.

We listened to a Shapiro podcast in which he explains why he doesn’t regret voting for President Donald Trump. After hearing Shapiro, we have to wonder if he aligned himself with Trump, not out of conviction, but because doing so yields financial or other rewards.

There’s a big difference between fact‑based analysis and persuasive advocacy, and much of today’s political commentary—like Shapiro’s—prioritizes emotion, identity and culture‑war framing over evidence and nuance. His fast‑paced delivery, confident tone and simplified “either/or” narratives create the appearance of logic, but he often leaves out crucial context, competing facts or constitutional concerns.

Shapiro unapologetically defends Trump, particularly on issues like immigration, Iran and foreign policy. Shapiro avoids serious issues, such as human rights abuses, government overreach and the long‑term consequences the nation will suffer because of the Trump administration. He also employs fear‑based rhetoric—nuclear weapons and the border chaos—in place of thoughtful debate.

That fact that Shapiro has a large audience shows that many people accept political narratives without questioning them. Shapiro capitalizes on human nature. As we see it, many people—on both sides of the aisle—suffer from confirmation bias, emotional attachment, identity protection and prefer “comfortable untruths” over “uncomfortable truths.” And once you capture peoples’ attention based on some emotional tug, it’s hard for them to change their attitudes.

Shapiro and those like him rely on an absence of critical thinking and the reluctance by many to challenge what they hear. Of course, to challenge what you hear requires curiosity and effort, and that requires time and effort, and that’s not where many Americans are.

We’re joined by Reverend Derrick Holmes, pastor of the Union Grove Baptist Church in Columbus, Ohio, to explore the intersection of faith, justice and civic responsibility in one of the most divided moments in modern American life.

Reverend Holmes compares today’s political and social climate with the civil rights era of the 1960s, arguing that the moral urgency of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s time is very much alive today. Drawing on the Black prophetic tradition, he challenges the idea that pastors should remain silent on political or civic issues, insisting that Christianity—when studied seriously—demands engaging with difficult subjects like oppression, equity and truth‑telling.

Our conversation with Reverend Holmes dives into themes of Christian nationalism, the misuse of scripture for political power, and the difference between partisan politics and civic accountability. Reverend Holmes explains why he does not endorse candidates yet feels a deep obligation to hold leaders accountable through community forums, town halls and public dialogue. For him, the role of the church is not to chase popularity but to stand firmly on what is “right before God.”

We also explore liberation theology, the importance of reading the Bible from the perspective of the oppressed rather than the empire, and the dangers of shallow interpretations in an era of intellectual decline. Reverend Holmes reflects on his own journey—from growing up in liberation‑oriented churches in Harlem and the Bronx, to pastoring in rural Ohio—and how those experiences shaped a ministry rooted in activism, community organizing, and moral courage.

The episode closes with a moving discussion of “revolutionary love”—a disruptive, transformative love that refuses fear, confronts injustice, and believes deeply in the power of faith to change communities and lives.

Thought‑provoking, challenging, and deeply human, this episode invites listeners to reconsider what it truly means to live out faith in public life.

Some years back, Connie Cherin was a guest on our podcast and talked about the non-profit she started, Partners for Care. Having supported PFC since then, I thought it was time to travel to Kenya and see firsthand the work PFC does.

Connie arranged for the Kenya staff to take me to various locations where PFC provides services. While most of our trips were centered in Nairobi, PFC's presence extends to other counties across Kenya.

The trip made me reflect on a comment by NYU professor Scott Galloway, who said the best decision he ever made was to be born in the United States. For me, growing up in a well-resourced neighborhood with supportive parents meant the path to success was always clear; all I had to do was apply myself.

In contrast, life in Nairobi's informal settlements, or slums (a word used by Kenyans), is a daily struggle, almost beyond words. Despite the hardships, the people served by PFC are genuinely grateful and do not take anything for granted.

On our first stop, we visited individuals who rely on mobility carts to get around. These are three-wheeled carts, powered by handles connected to the front wheel that the owner rotates. Kenyans face significant challenges with polio and cerebral palsy and collisions that result in a higher percentage of mobility-impaired people than in the US.

These simple, U.S.-built wooden carts allow people who cannot walk to move about and earn a living—for example, by selling candies and ice treats. One cart recipient told me he earns about 7,000 shillings per month (approximately $55 US), enough to cover his expenses.

We also visited a preschool. Over 300 youngsters, all in uniform and smiling, greeted us. What joy! We visited the school to see that it uses WaterSafe packs PFC distributes. Most water in Kenya is undrinkable, and even when people have access to safe water, they often don’t have a safe way to transport it. The WaterSafe packs solve the problem.

We visited a remote village to see how PFC is helping mothers treat their children for parasitic fleas and how mosquito nets provide protection at night. After that, we visited a PFC computer school and visited with women who have learned to sew and earn a living by making clothes.