Happy Birthday to Ralph Nader <3
One of our greatest and most brilliant figures, timeless and timely always
Today February 27, is the 91st birthday of Ralph Nader. As a consumer advocate, lawyer, political activist, writer, and corporate watchdog, Ralph has personally done more for us all than most of us realize. He has fought for our lives, protected us from injustice, invented and changed laws in our favor, advocated for our safety, our wellbeing, our health, our rights. Ralph Nader has protected us and I do not feel we have done anywhere near enough to protect him, to honor him, to thank him, to acknowledge him. Ralph is truly brilliant. He is kindhearted and warm, welcoming and generous, deeply humorous. He is rare. One of those rare figures you only come across once in your lifetime.
I urge you to follow his Substack, read his books and articles, subscribe to the Capitol Hill Citizen, read his quotes below and follow the links at the bottom of this post, learn about Ralph’s history - the great work he has done and continues to do for us, visit his American Museum of Tort Law in Connecticut, and more than anything else, watch and listen to him speak. Watch videos online, listen to him on radio shows and podcasts, (here is one from a few days ago), allow yourself to be washed over and through by his ideas, his wisdom, intelligence, and guidance, by his encouragement, his passion, his genuine belief in us all, and above all else, by his hope.
I first Met Ralph when I was 15 or 16. My mom was working with him and they became friends. Her father had loved him, and she deeply respected and admired him, too. The feeling was mutual. Ralph loved ‘People Have the Power’ and commended my mom’s use of language and her conviction onstage. They were a duo of equals, each with a strong, commanding presence, and also they made each other smile. She brought me with her to see him speak and introduced me to him afterwards. I was intimidated and nervous, excited and honored. I wore army green baggy pants and a tan corduroy blazer covered in peace buttons. He stood next to me in a suit and tie, holding his notes from the podium. I clasped my hands together in front of me because I thought it looked respectful and presentable. My mom took our picture with her Polaroid camera.
(I wish I could have the picture show up right here, but I can’t find it anywhere)
I was deeply concerned about the War in Iraq and had just discovered global warming/the climate crisis. I was terrified, angered, impassioned, forever changed by the drive to do something about it. I wanted to devote my life to being purposeful and I was eager to find mentors who were doing just that with their own.
As I mentioned in a previous Substack post, I had the great fortune to travel around the country with Ralph when I was a senior in high school, required to find a full-time internship for the last trimester of 12th grade. I got to see Ralph speak in person in towns all over New England and beyond, and each time I was fully mesmerized, hanging on his every word, taking vigorous notes, feeling in my full being that I wanted to follow in his footsteps, that I wanted to make him proud, that I wanted to learn everything I could from him. I never wanted this traveling to end. I was captivated at each event by his stance, his voice, his ideas, but I also loved seeing the faces of others in the crowd. Every person in his presence was washed over by a sensation of true hope. Those who arrived skeptical of his vision were transformed and ready for action by the time his talks were over. He laid out the tools and steps needed to take the world in our hands and make it the harmonious and people-powered place it always should have been. He led us through history, talked about the future, and he did so as a true equal (even though he was far more brilliant than any of us could have ever dreamed to be).
As a teenager I was such a sponge, energized and eager to learn, fueled every day by a potent blend of passion and fear. Listening to Ralph day after day at that exact moment of my adolescence influenced me much more, I’m sure, than I could possibly ever know. I can still transport myself back there so easily - see his stance at the podium, knowing I was deeply lucky to be there, and I’m aware of the impact this experience had on me, the path it led me down. But I think watching and listening to him so closely at that pivotal moment, while transitioning from childhood into adulthood, about to go out into the world on my own, probably shaped me in a more profound way than I realize, on a molecular level, like being hit by a meteor or living on Mars for a while. Coming back to Earth, back to NYC, I was different, I had really seen something, something I wished so badly that everyone else could see. I didn’t know how to translate it all, how to live and work in a way of tireless worth like him. I knew I never could, but I just wanted to be him.
I wrote my paper, did my final presentation, shared all I had learned from Ralph and my internships. My paper itself was actually not complete. It was supposed to be 20 pages, but mine was more than 50 pages of main essay, unfinished parts of new ideas, research, stories, questions, and excerpts from email conversations between myself and Matt Zawisky, Ralph’s right hand. As I put my paper together, it continued to expand, seemingly beyond my control. My history teacher, who served as my mentor through the internship process, wasn’t too happy about this, but after being my teacher for 4 years, he also wasn’t surprised, as deadlines and sticking to the boundaries of assignments hadn’t always been my strong suit, often giving explanations and requesting extensions, not because I was lazy, but because I cared so much about the topic at hand, wanting to remain in the process stage for longer. I explained that I did not want to shorten my work down to 20 pages, but instead to make it much longer, and have it compiled into a book. And I really meant that. We talked about the plan, and I promised he could write the forward or the afterword if he wanted to. He was happy with that and I received good marks on my work. Matt Zawisky came to NYC to watch me present my findings of working with him and Ralph. Everything was good. I graduated from high school in June 2005 and was ready for the next steps forward.
Maybe Ralph would have loved if I had continued my formal education and gone to college like I had planned to, to study environmental justice or environmental law. I really wanted to be a climate scientist, an expert at the top of my field, studying the melting glaciers and taking snow samples to the lab, speaking to students at universities, writing award winning Op-Eds, publishing guidebooks on local activism and tangible solutions, presenting my findings to government officials, fighting for our planet at a higher level.
I made a few decisions though that took me on a different path. When I was still in high school, I applied to a handful of colleges and universities, and I wrote my application essay on having trouble deciding between studying climate science or being a musician/writer. I felt this uncomfortable pull between the two paths of science and art, and didn’t know which one to walk down. One of the schools I applied to was Sarah Lawrence College in New York. I was accepted and I was very happy. I chose this as the school to attend for my undergraduate education, and deferred admission for 1 year. I had a plan.
In addition to Sarah Lawrence, I was accepted to almost all of the other schools I applied to, save for a waiting list spot at University of Vermont. They were mostly New York based schools - including New School University and SUNY Purchase, and I also applied to Evergreen State College, which I remember feeling excited about because of their climate science classes. I don’t actually remember the other schools I got into, but I know there were a handful of them. My goodness, I still get complete chills and an excited rush thinking about getting those big envelopes in the mail, the folders with the acceptance letters and class catalogs. I don’t know where they are, but I’m sure I kept them all. It’s hard to believe all that really happened.
One of the reasons I chose Sarah Lawrence was because of the hand written note they included with my acceptance letter. In response to my application essay, which explored the devastating confusion I felt between having to choose climate work or music (analysis paralysis had me back then, too!), they wrote something along the lines of, ‘why do you have to choose?’ or ‘why not do both?!’ It was such a great realization for me - yeah, why not do both?? I knew this was the place for me because they understood, and I was already learning something from them - they got it.
During my year off in preparation for Sarah Lawrence, I got a little distracted by other options. I probably was also given a false level of belief in my abilities having been accepted to almost all of the schools I had applied to.
Columbia University had an amazing Earth and Environmental Sciences Department, The Earth Institute. They offered public lectures and presentations, and I don’t remember how, but somehow I was connected with Jeffrey Sachs, a professor at Columbia, and whose book, The End of Poverty, I had read and admired. He invited me to visit him at his office. After that, I started visiting often to the campus in Morningside Heights, and I decided quickly, that this in fact, was where I belonged.
I pulled my admission to Sarah Lawrence, and I put all my effort and focus into applying to Columbia. I imagined myself at the campus and practically memorized the class descriptions. I laid myself out a plan for my academic career. I bought merchandise from their campus bookstore, everything baby blue. I took SAT II tests in environmental science and literature. I gathered a powerful fleet of recommendation letters, including one very generously written for me by Joan Didion. I submitted my application. I did an interview with an alumnus uptown. I never considered the possibility that I would get rejected. But that’s exactly what happened. I got the little envelope in the mail. Columbia University was not interested in having me as one of their own.
I remember holding the envelope by the window, the light shining through onto this white rectangle in my hands, knowing exactly what was inside it, but not wanting to believe it. As long as I held the envelope, sealed and unread, there was still hope. But I knew there was no hope, I knew I was rejected. And I should have known better. After all, I was terrible at math and not very good at science (chemistry at least) either. My high school grades were not great and my SAT score was far below average, but I believed somehow that my passion and desire to be accepted and to learn was enough to glide me through. I didn’t know that a school like Columbia was ‘above my league’ academically speaking, and I didn’t realize how lucky I had been to get accepted to those other schools. Maybe I got a little over excited, maybe a little greedy and overzealous. But I didn’t know, I didn’t know the drill. I could probably have done a year or two at Sarah Lawrence and then applied to transfer to Columbia later if I really wanted to. But it really doesn’t matter because that didn’t turn out to be my path, and that’s not what happened.
While I was still in high school, Ralph would occasionally send me the most incredible boxes of books to read, all of which I still have together on my shelves. Books written by experts, professionals, real people from all over the world. Political books, law journals, an uncorrected proof of The Weather Makers, nature and science books, textbooks and guides to civic action, words that lit new fires beneath me and opened my eyes to new perspectives. Books that were sometimes over my head, books that scared and intrigued me.
After I graduated from high school, each time I saw him, he would ask the same question, ‘Jesse, are you in college yet?’ I dreaded the question because I knew the answer he was hoping for, and I didn’t want to disappoint him. I dreaded telling him that no, I was not in college yet. I didn’t want to tell him what happened, that I was rejected from Columbia. I didn’t want him to know that I faulted my academic plan and was feeling a bit lost around what to do next. I wanted him to have faith in me, I wanted him to believe I was still bound for greatness, I wanted him to know all the thoughts and desires that were so alive in my mind. I wanted him to know how much I admired and looked up to him and how profoundly I cared about the future and our deeply fractured world. I wanted him to be proud of me.
I have completed a great deal of continuing education and professional training, but I never did enroll fully in a school and get a BA. Maybe life would be different if I had, continuing on to get a masters, a PhD. This topic has throughout my adult life been a source of questioning for me, and has sometimes even been a topic of insecurity, wishing I could be like others with beautiful degrees framed on the wall, able to share stories of their alma mater, held higher, respected more officially, or taken more seriously in certain situations. There have been moments where I’ve hit a wall along my path because I don’t have a bachelor’s degree, and I’ve kicked myself for waiting another year, and then another more. I’ve asked people I admire not if I had made the wrong decision before (because I don’t have any regrets and believe everything happens as its meant to), but if I should correct the decision now: ‘should I go to school? Should I get a BA and Masters degree??’ More often than not, I get the same response, that getting a degree is not necessary, that it doesn’t have to be everyone’s path, and that it’s absolutely nothing to ever feel ashamed or lesser-than about. And I do fully believe that to be true.
I am 37 years old, and I was 17 when I traveled around the country with Ralph. 20 years ago, listening to him speak and learning from those he surrounded himself with altered the course of my life completely. And I did do exactly what Sarah Lawrence suggested with their handwritten question on my acceptance letter. I didn’t choose between climate action and music, I formed a non-profit to bring musicians into the climate movement in a profound and real way. We are in our 10th year now, and have founded a second non-profit, which offers tangible solutions and assistance for cities transitioning to 100% renewable energy. I know I’ve done good work for our planet, but I don’t feel I’ve done nearly enough, and I always think I could be doing so much more. I do believe however, with all my being, that everything I’ve learned in life is still coalescing somehow within me, and that the great work of my life has not happened yet.
Today is Ralph’s birthday, and I really do want to make him proud, so I will ask myself these reflective questions and I invite you to join me:
Reflection Questions
What is my life purpose?
What am I currently doing to actively support my life purpose?
What could I do more of?
Is there anything I am doing that is not serving my life purpose or supporting my goals in some way?
What are some ways I could alter my current life scenario to better support my purpose/path?
What accomplishments am I most proud of?
What is a goal that would make me extremely proud to achieve?
What is one action I can take today to support in accomplishing this goal?
How can I be a better citizen and what can I do for my neighborhood, town, city, country, for the Earth? Am I doing enough and where/how could I be doing more?
Today is a great day for reflection and today is a great day for action. Let’s honor Ralph by doing both, let’s honor Ralph by doing better. And please of course, follow his Substack if you do not already, read his words, watch and listen to him speak. I will try and find the Polaroid my mom took of him and me when I first met him. I wish I knew where it was, but I still have all the books he sent me back then, so I will look at those instead. And I will look at all of the books he’s written, too, which I also have, and I will leave you with these quotes of his below.
Words of wisdom from Ralph:
A society that has more justice is a society that needs less charity.
We must strive to become good ancestors.
Every time I see something terrible, it's like I see it at age 19. I keep a freshness that way.
The function of leadership is to produce more leaders, not more followers.
The best way to inspire people is to demonstrate what's possible.
The future depends on what we do now, not what we did yesterday.
A leader has the vision and conviction that a dream can be achieved. He inspires the power and energy to get it done.
When strangers start acting like neighbors... communities are reinvigorated.
The use of solar energy has not been opened up because the oil industry does not own the sun.
Ultimately, the power is in the hands of the people, if they choose to exercise it.
To be an informed citizen, you need to actively seek out multiple perspectives.
The goal of education is not just to fill the mind, but to ignite curiosity and critical thinking.
This country has far more problems than it deserves and far more solutions than it applies.
I once said to my father, when I was a boy, 'Dad we need a third political party.' He said to me, 'I'll settle for a second.'
Democracy must be something more than two wolves and a sheep voting on what to have for dinner.
Optimism is a political act.
The challenge of our time is to build a genuine civic society.
There can be no daily democracy without daily citizenship.
There can never be true democracy unless decisions that affect our lives are in our hands, rather than in the hands of representatives who are more influenced by lobbyists than by the people who elected them.
A society that does not democratize wealth and power cannot be called a democracy.
Let it not be said by a future, forlorn generation that we wasted and lost our great potential because our despair was so deep we didn't even try, or because each of us thought someone else was worrying about our problems.
How often do police accidentally shoot and kill bankers who are committing financial crimes, stealing homes, and plunging the nation into economic instability and recession?
Change only happens when individuals take action and demand it.
It is fascinating to watch legislators turn away from their usual corporate grips when they hear the growing thunder of the people.
Moral courage is the highest expression of humanity.
Democracy is not a spectator sport. It requires active participation.
When you're up against the wall, you have to either crawl or climb.
An engaged citizenry is the foundation of a healthy democracy.
You should not allow yourself the luxuries of discouragement of despair. Bounce back immediately, and welcome the adversity because it produces harder thinking and harder drive to get to the objective.
As a public interest lawyer, your fund of injustice will never be empty.
The more you listen, the more sensible will be what you say.
We must cultivate a culture of accountability and responsibility.
Your best teacher is your last mistake.
-all words from Ralph Nader
Happy Birthday, Ralph. Thank you with all my heart for everything. <3
Thank you everyone for reading. Let me know if you have any thoughts on anything I shared, and also let me know which of Ralph’s quotes you like the most. If any of them resonate strongly or speak to you today, maybe take an action or do something inspired by his words. Thank you again for reading, for supporting, and for everything you do.
‘To imagine is to envision.’ - Ralph Nader
Have a great day, everyone!
Resources for Ralph:
Subscribe to Capitol Hill Citizen
Ralph’s published books with descriptions
Ralph on the radio February 24, 2025
Great post and tribute. It seems there are so few people these days that are admirable, upstanding citizens of the world. But I think it’s just because notoriety has been hijacked by people that are grounded by their egos and have no desire for public service or even common decency. Thanks for bringing him to our attention and following your life path, reminding us that doing good, aspiring to make life better and saving the planet is honorable and brave. Not to give advice, but doing that, don’t look back accept to learn lessons but not to have regrets or second guess yourself. You are exactly where you should be. If living up to standards shown by people such as Ralph Nader is your true north, then I think you’re on a good road. Happy Birthday fellow Piscean Ralph and gratitude for the post that celebrates him. 🙏
This is a great tribute to Ralph, who has always been an inspiration to me. I am not surprised to learn he is a wonderful mentor. May he have many happy birthdays!
Jesse, it is never too late to do more school if and when you feel it’s right for you. The most brilliant people I have known never went! And lot of people regret going, or are there just to please others. Still more go back later in life. When I was a freshman of 17 and barely able to tie my own shoes, in philosophy class I sat next to an elegant woman of 71 who had done many exciting things in her life and had left college for later because she said that she had finally slowed down enough to enjoy it.