There was a time when I thought arguing politics mattered.
I still serve as an administrator on an online forum where I mostly monitor the moderation of a political sub-forum.
I once believed that if I just explained things clearly enough—facts, logic, history—someone on the other side would finally see the common ground and at least understand an alternative position.
My goal when I argued politics was never to win the argument or get the majority to agree with me, but to build mutual understanding of opposing views.
I thought engagement meant a civil exchange of ideas
I thought debate was civic duty.
Then I had open-heart surgery.
Coronary artery bypass surgery, or CABG.
A surgeon cracked my chest, stopped my heart, and rewired my blood supply so I could keep living.
And somewhere between the ICU monitors, the scar down my chest, and the realization that I was not remotely immortal, something became painfully obvious…
Arguing politics online is one of the least meaningful things a man can do with his remaining time on earth.
I largely stopped arguing politics online and in person before my surgery, but post-CABG, I found that my decision to disconnect from such activities altogether was wholly validated.
CABG Changes What You Consider “Important”
Before CABG, politics felt existential.
After CABG, existence itself is existential.
When you’ve faced your mortality—not metaphorically, but clinically and literally—you recalibrate your thinking and life philosophy fast.
You stop confusing noise with impact.
You stop mistaking emotion for truth.
You stop giving free energy to people who would never lift a finger for you.
Politics thrives on outrage because outrage keeps people distracted, divided, and exhausted.
A man recovering from heart surgery doesn’t have the surplus energy for that kind of waste.
Online Political Arguments Are Not About Truth
They never were.
They’re about:
- Status signaling
- Tribal belonging
- Moral performance
- Dopamine hits from “winning”
No one logs onto social media hoping to be corrected.
They log on to be validated.
Once you understand that, arguing becomes absurd.
You’re not persuading anyone—you’re auditioning for an audience that doesn’t care about you.
CABG strips away the illusion that applause, from strangers or anyone else, matters.
Stress Is Not an Abstract Concept After Heart Surgery
Before surgery, stress is theoretical.
After surgery, it’s measurable.
You learn quickly that:
- Chronic anger raises blood pressure
- Prolonged stress inflames arteries
- Emotional volatility isn’t “passion,” it’s physiological damage
Arguing politics isn’t just pointless—it’s self-harm dressed up as virtue.
No policy outcome is improved by your cortisol spike.
No politician knows your name.
No online “win” improves your blood flow.
But stress can shorten the second chance you were given.
That math is simple.
The People Who Matter Aren’t Watching
The people and things that actually matter in your life—your family, your partner, your health, your peace—are not keeping score of your political arguments.
They care whether:
- You’re present
- You’re calm
- You’re stable
- You’re alive
Politics demands constant emotional labor with zero return. CABG teaches you to invest only where there is a real dividend.
This is the part many people get wrong.
Not arguing politics doesn’t mean you have no values.
It means you’ve stopped confusing values with verbal combat.
Real values show up in:
- How you live
- How you treat people
- How you manage your body and mind
- How you vote quietly and move on
The loudest people online are rarely the most principled.
They’re usually the most dysregulated, and ironically, the ones who feel the most powerless.
After heart surgery, self-regulation becomes non-negotiable.
CABG Teaches a Brutal Hierarchy of Priorities
When your chest has been opened, you start asking better questions:
- Does this argument improve my life?
- Will this matter in five years?
- Is this worth my heart rate rising?
- Would I trade five minutes of peace for this opinion?
Politics fails every one of those tests.
Peace, health, and time with people you love do not.
The Scar Is a Reminder, Not a Trophy
Every morning, I see a scar. My scar.
It doesn’t say “fight harder.”
It says “choose carefully.”
It reminds me that:
- Time is finite
- Energy is precious
- Peace is earned, not granted
I didn’t survive open-heart surgery to spend my remaining years yelling into the abyss.
Final Thought 💭
Arguing politics feels important when you believe you have unlimited tomorrows.
CABG teaches you that you don’t have unlimited tomorrows.
So I stopped arguing—not because I gave up, but because I finally understood what was worth protecting.
My heart has already fought hard enough. I want to give it the peace and margin to continue fighting for something bigger and better.
-The Rational Ram
The Rational Ram 
