They’re always sniveling that we should protect some little frog that is on the brink of extinction. Some little slime nugget on its last puddle, that is clearly of no use to anybody and that nobody would miss. And then someone pipes up that the frog might very well have some metabolic component that could cure cancer, or something. We don’t know, the reasoning goes, what we might be able to extract from that frog, if properly ground up, or who it might ultimately benefit, and we won’t ever know if we let it disappear. So we should save the frog.

Hell. It’s meant well, I guess. People who say those things want to save the frog for other reasons, but you have to bring up a commercial aspect to get people’s attention.

But it irks me. That frog has earned her little frog-shaped slot in the ecosystem like everything else, period. That frog cannot be replaced by an AI-generated version with winsome eyes, a human expression, and miraculous paisley underparts. Did you fall for that one? You need to pull your anesthetized head out of your screen, go outside, and let real nature flay open your heart. You need to love that frog.

Because saving that frog usually involves a lot of things that people don’t want to do, like setting aside land that you could otherwise slap a Walmart on. The business of keeping that frog in the picture is usually not profitable in the very short run. That frog, in fact, is hopping somewhere in between a man and his money, and that is a very dangerous position, existentially, to be in. Such a man is not going to be moved by a recitation of the value of undeveloped wetlands for air and water quality, flood control, and carbon sequestration, because that is not the kind of value you can trade on the exchange.

Hear this. You just need to save the frog. Not because powdered frog cures baldness. But because it’s a dang frog.

It’s the same with people, too. Horrible things are being done to people, and we are being lectured why we must care. You’ve heard it before: First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak up because I was not a socialist. Then trade unionists. Then Jews. And you know how the story goes: they come for you but there is no one left to speak up for you. Now you’re sorry.

But that isn’t it, is it? It’s not about self-preservation.

I’m pretty far down the list of people who are going to be picked up and shipped off to a foreign prison to be tortured and killed. Realistically, the odds that people like me will be shoved into that cattle car are slim. But we speak up anyway, because it is sinful and wrong. Because we actually comprehend that other humans have value, even socialists and trade unionists and Jews. Because real justice is not capricious, but thoughtful. Because we refuse to live in manufactured fear of the other. Because any time someone tells us any group of people is criminal, or dirty, or in the way, or worthy of extermination, we know we are being lied to.

Job one, don’t let yourself be lied to.

Jobs two through a thousand: stop the liars and exterminators. Stand in their way. Do not let them scrape the “undesirables” out of sight, or bulldoze or clearcut or mine or poison the home we share with the frogs and slime nuggets. Stop these motherfuckers, before they destroy everything so that a few people can own everything that’s left—and nothing of value.