Ben Sasse on Faith, Family, and Facing Death

Ben Sasse: It’s great to be here, my friend. As a listener, it’s a real honor to be invited.

Ben Sasse: Thank you for that. While cancer is not my favorite subject, I’m happy to share. Next week marks six months and three weeks since I was told I had just 90 days to live, so I’m certainly on borrowed time. We all are, in a way, but I’m here with my three kids, aged 15 to 25. Every extra week, month, and holiday to celebrate freedom feels like a blessing.

To put it simply, my wife and I describe my situation as having two small bads and one significant good. I have pancreatic cancer that has spread to five other areas, classified as advanced Stage Four. The survival rate for pancreatic cancer is grim—87% overall, with a staggering 97% mortality within 12 months if you’re in Stage Four. So, seeing seven months when I was given 90 days is quite the achievement, thanks to an incredible new drug called daraxonrasib at UCSF, a RAS inhibitor. If you’re in your 80s, pancreatic cancer might be environmental, but for someone in their 50s like me, it’s typically a genetic mutation. A staggering 89% of patients have a RAS mutation. This new drug is groundbreaking, considering there hadn’t been good news in pancreatic cancer for 40 years, as it tries to inhibit the RAS mutation from misfiring its on-off switches.

Currently, my tumors have reduced by over 80%. Unfortunately, it’s unlikely to be a cure for me, given my advanced stage. However, this drug could be pivotal over the next few years.

On a more personal note, the aggressive chemotherapy has left me with significant side effects, including severe skin and hair growth issues, resulting in a rather bloody scalp. Thankfully, I have a great dermatological oncology team at MD Anderson helping me make progress. I’ve largely resolved facial issues, but I still struggle with persistent nausea, which has me throwing up four to five times daily. So, if I need to pause our discussion, it’s not a matter of dodging your questions.

Ben Sasse: Briefly on pride: as a Reagan admirer, I feel obligated to quote him often. Freedom is perpetually one generation away from extinction. If you cherish our remarkable constitutional framework, it’s imperative to teach and pass it on; it doesn’t just happen by osmosis. America is fundamentally an idea—this notion transcends mere geography.

Since the 1960s, we’ve struggled with this. We achieved significant racial progress through the Civil Rights movement, but we also encountered a lull from the late ’60s to mid-’70s where we avoided engaging in basic civics education. It’s not surprising that our younger generations lack civic knowledge.

Having served as a college president, I recall the alarming data about 18 to 25-year-olds when I first took office in 2009. The situation is far worse now, but back then, around 41% believed the First Amendment was dangerous, as it allowed for the possibility of hurting others’ feelings. The essence of America is that words aren’t violence; we protect each other from violence to allow for robust debate.

Part of the issue is our failure to teach civics, compounded by the fact that capitalism, despite being the most effective economic system ever, has made us incredibly affluent. Middle-class Americans are the wealthiest in history, but this affluence comes with downsides—distracting us and rendering us confused about the very notion of freedom of religion, speech, press, assembly, and protest.

So, when I stress the importance of freedom, I’m underscoring that religious liberty and freedom of expression are core to our dignity as human beings. Souls can’t be compelled, and I believe America’s political structure best aligns with our inherent dignity.

Ben Sasse: I concur. Executive overreach is indeed a concern, but I believe the more pressing issue is legislative underreach, which has led us to this juncture.

When I first ran for office at 41 in 2013, I was drawn into the political sphere amidst President Obama’s second term. I began to contemplate the “pen-and-phone” strategies he proposed—nonsensical approaches that President Trump later echoed. This phenomenon arises partly from public impatience with legislative inaction on critical issues. Our entitlement system, for instance, is mathematically unsustainable, yet most people remain largely unaware of how dire the situation is.

As people engage with the issue, they realize that our entitlement state is heading towards bankruptcy. Once, there were 16 workers for every retiree; now that ratio is dwindling to two and a half. People are understandably anxious, yet the legislature remains stagnant.

The problems associated with social media and the digital revolution—while having their benefits—have made the legislature increasingly performative, diverting it from its primary responsibilities. Consequently, the executive branch has stepped in to fill that void, not out of malice, but out of necessity.

Ben Sasse: May I add a brief thought on that?

Ben Sasse: I still teach occasionally, and if all goes well, I may teach again this fall. I think it’s valuable to engage in thought experiments about how historical figures would react to our current age.

Take, for example, the 4th of July; it’s worthwhile to consider the 1770s or 1780s. If someone from Philadelphia in 1787 were to witness our era, they’d likely be astounded not only by our material wealth and technological advancements but also by the apathy of politicians toward their legislative powers. The notion that someone in the legislature would not be eager to legislate is baffling. We now have a legislature reluctant to take action.

I was part of Mitt Romney’s transition team in the summer of 2012, interviewing former White House Chiefs of Staff. I often asked them about their expectations versus reality upon entering office. A common response was their surprise at senior legislators from their own party asking the executive branch to enact popular policies through Executive Orders, rather than through legislation.

One senior senator explained, ‘If it’s a 70/30 issue, I prefer not to vote on it because the 70% will get what they want via Executive Order, and the 30% will be upset regardless. Why should they be angry at me? Let them direct their frustrations at the bureaucrats.’

That’s bizarre. The Founders wouldn’t comprehend that mentality.

Ben Sasse: I agree. I’ve shared many pessimistic views so far, so let’s acknowledge something positive: The Originalism Movement on the Supreme Court over the last couple of decades has been encouraging. The nominees associated with the Federalist Society are pushing back against some of the authority delegated to faceless bureaucrats.

While most bureaucrats are well-intentioned, we want those who enact change to be accountable to voters. This delegation of authority to the Administrative State—Obamacare being a prime example—illustrates this issue. The law stipulates that it will be illegal to offer health insurance that doesn’t meet an essential benefits package. But who determines what that entails? That’s a decision that should involve a vote.

Instead, we’ve opted for a system where the bureaucracy makes these decisions, which raises the question: Why do we even need a legislature?

Ben Sasse: Exactly. Your point highlights a significant issue; in our information-rich world, domains of expertise are shrinking, as information becomes more accessible. Relying on expertise shouldn’t become an excuse to dodge responsibility for making tough value-based decisions.

Ben Sasse: That’s a great and straightforward question, and I realize I haven’t thought about it deeply enough. Let me approach it indirectly.

On my first day in office, January 3, 2015, I introduced a constitutional amendment for term limits on senators. While that may not be the most pressing issue, it was my starting point. I believe that a professional political class that lingers in Washington indefinitely is unhealthy. A two-term limit for the Senate would foster a healthier institution.

If I could amend the Constitution directly, I might propose a single 10 or 12-year term, ensuring staggered elections so that the Senate remains a continuous body. The Founders envisioned a mixed system that included an aristocratic element insulated from public opinion, which should be preserved.

In the short term, I’d also aim to block the absurd proposal to mandate cameras in the Supreme Court, which I believe would lead to disastrous consequences within 18 months. There’s currently no transparency issue in the Supreme Court; we have access to audio recordings, and written notes are allowed everywhere. Introducing cameras could transform the Court into a spectacle for social media rather than a solemn judicial process.

Ultimately, I think we need to address our entitlement system. It’s unfair to burden the next generation with debt. Currently, most people still view government through the lens of the military and a few social programs. However, over 70% of our spending comprises Medicare, Medicaid, Obamacare, Social Security, and interest on the debt. We cannot sustain such a model when we’re witnessing growing life expectancy and advancements in health technologies.

Moreover, we must consider the impacts of mid-career job disruption. As a proponent of free trade, I believe we should develop programs that effectively assist mid-career individuals facing job displacement due to economic shifts, particularly with the rise of AI.

Ben Sasse: Feel free to fact-check me; your math skills are probably superior.

Ben Sasse: I mostly keep an eye on intelligence matters. I’m particularly concerned about the long-term civilizational race surrounding technology with the CCP. I also contribute occasionally to the Wall Street Journal.

Ben Sasse: Midland University, formerly known as Midland Lutheran College.

Ben Sasse: When I arrived, there were about 600 students. By the time I left, we had nearly tripled that number. We were one of the nation’s fastest-growing institutions.

Ben Sasse: Two key insights come to mind. Firstly, my grandfather was the first in our family to attend college. He worked his way up at a local college after returning from World War II, ultimately becoming the Executive Vice President. This experience highlighted the importance of community institutions, which I believe exemplifies the Tocquevillian spirit of American life. It’s about entrepreneurial ventures that serve local communities, akin to what Tocqueville observed.

Secondly, the 18-to-22-year-olds today are markedly different from those of my generation. This observation isn’t simply a complaint from an older individual frustrated with the younger generation. We’ve reached such a level of wealth due to consumer capitalism that it’s common for 18-year-olds to have never worked. Historically, this would have been unfathomable; even during the American Revolution, a significant portion of farm labor came from children under 14.

Today, many 18-year-olds are still in a passive, “receive mode,” lacking the work experience that previously fostered ambition and curiosity. College is supposed to be a space of exploration and growth, not an extension of adolescence.

Ben Sasse: I appreciate your insights. Let’s continue exploring the differences between small and large college presidencies.

Ben Sasse: Great question. I presume we’ll touch on theological aspects at some point, as Ecclesiastes reminds us that life is fleeting and often filled with vanity. I’m a recovering workaholic, and not merely due to my terminal diagnosis. A few years ago, I recognized that my relentless work ethic was unhealthy, serving as an escape mechanism for deeper issues.

Since middle school, I’ve kept meticulous time logs, tracking everything in 15-minute increments, including workouts and sleep. While it may seem obsessive, it has provided clarity on how I allocate my time.

Ben Sasse: Though I served as a small-college president for five years, I spent a year and a half on leave during my Senate campaign. My time at the small college was intensely focused on tangible outcomes, especially after inheriting an institution facing an enrollment crisis and financial instability.

We launched a project called Big Scribner to address five critical areas: restructuring our debt, renegotiating with bondholders, retiring faculty in declining programs, raising new funds, and building a more accountable institution for our students. We set clear metrics for success, and I was fortunate to assemble a capable team.

Fast forward to the University of Florida, where the role is heavily ceremonial. With a vast budget of $9.5 billion, a significant portion goes to our health system, which complicates the educational mission. While education is essential, it’s only a fraction of the overall operation.

Moreover, the focus on athletics often overshadows educational priorities. As someone who cherishes college sports, I recognize their importance, but they are often treated as separate enterprises that overshadow academic objectives.

Shared governance is another challenge. Accreditors require institutions to demonstrate shared governance, which should ideally involve faculty and administration collaborating on curricular decisions. However, it often leads to inefficiencies, with faculty, particularly in the humanities, taking charge of curriculum while neglecting critical issues like physical infrastructure.

These challenges are compounded by a lack of coherent curriculum management, as seen when faculty in declining departments often have the autonomy to replace retiring professors without consideration of broader institutional needs. This lack of oversight contributes to incoherence in educational offerings.

Ben Sasse: Yes, the differences are significant. Reflecting on the philosophical aspects of life, as Ecclesiastes suggests, I find that the role of a college president often involves navigating the complexities of institutional structure and culture. In a small college, the impact of your leadership is evident and immediate. In contrast, in a large university, a significant portion of the role is ceremonial—attending events and representing the institution at various functions.

This doesn’t diminish the importance of the role, but it does shift the focus from direct operational management to broader strategic visioning. We must encourage large institutions to reform and demonstrate their value to the public, ensuring they are responsible stewards of the time and resources of young people.

As we move into a future where job disruptions will become more common, our educational systems must adapt to foster lifelong learning. This is not just a moral imperative; it’s essential for economic viability as individuals navigate a rapidly evolving job landscape.

Ben Sasse: Certainly. I identify as a self-conscious Christian, adhering to the Heidelberg Catechism, which outlines three essential truths: understanding guilt, embracing grace, and expressing gratitude. My faith has provided a framework for navigating life’s challenges, including my current diagnosis. While facing a terminal illness is daunting, I find solace in the belief that death is not the ultimate end; it is merely the last adversary we confront.

Death is undoubtedly difficult, but it serves as a potent reminder of our mortality and the transient nature of life. My diagnosis has brought clarity, allowing me to recognize the futility of distractions that once held my attention.

Ben Sasse: My faith has been relatively stable. Growing up in a Christian home, I spent time grappling with theological questions during college, but I didn’t experience significant doubt. My faith has deepened over the years, especially during periods of corporate worship where I confront my shortcomings. The past six months have brought a unique perspective; with death looming, the distractions of life seem trivial.

I’ve realized how much energy I once expended on public discourse—reading comments sections and engaging with social media. While I still care about civic health, I’ve detached from negativity and distractions that once occupied my mind.

Ben Sasse: No, I don’t harbor anger towards God. Instead, I reflect on my shortcomings in light of the moral law. I acknowledge my guilt and recognize that my failures do not reflect a flaw in the law itself, but rather in my own actions. My struggle aligns with the understanding articulated by Paul in Romans, where he laments the conflict between his desires and actions. I see my shortcomings as a reminder of my need for grace.

[More to come, 44:41]