The American Scene

An ongoing review of politics and culture


PJTV Does Gitmo

I’ve had mixed feelings about Pajamas TV since it began. Roger Simon is a real talent, Andrew Klavan often has intelligent points to make, and Glenn Reynolds, a pioneer of the blogosphere, alerts me to a good link I wouldn’t have otherwise seen almost every time that I read his blog. The guy who interviewed me when I appeared on the site was very nice. Instapundit also regularly sends traffic to Megan McArdle, Mickey Kaus, and Radley Balko, so Professor Reynolds and I obviously have overlapping tastes in journalism.

But I am dismayed at some of the content that the folks who run PJTV host on the site. Take the PJTV item that Instapundit teased today. It is a video titled “The Real Guantanamo Bay.” The segment has its merits. I enjoyed seeing some of the faces of men and women serving over there — whatever you think about the existence of Gitmo, it’s a fact that lots of folks serve honorably there. But things start to go downhill when the heavy-handed 9/11 footage is invoked to “remind liberals” that Americans are the actual victims “in all this.”

The most shameful single line in the piece is surely this one:

Maybe we should ship these guys to American prisons. I personally believe that prison should be as unpleasant as humanly possible. Let them bring their prayer rugs and everything. They’re already on their knees five times a day. While they’re at it let’s let them make a few new friends.

But it’s the disingenuous way that the whole debate about Gitmo is rendered that rankles most. The folks who exercise editorial control at PJTV never produce work this shoddy, so they are clearly capable of insisting on better content. I hope they start doing so.

Douthatblog is back

like a heart attack.

Continetti on Palin

My friend Matt Continetti — one of the smartest journalists I know — has written a smart and thoughtful comment for the Wall Street Journal on the long, difficult road ahead for Sarah Palin if she intends to become a serious presidential contender. Though I don’t agree with Matt in every detail, his basic argument, as I understand it, is:

(1) Palin is polarizing and voters consider her underqualified for national office.

(2) She needs to reintroduce herself to the public as a market-friendly populist who reaches out to the center from a solid conservative base.

(3) High unfavorable ratings aren’t insurmountable. She hasn’t reached truly toxic territory yet.

(4) Effective performances in interviews and debates will go a long way towards correcting her perceived deficiencies.

(5) Palin needs to return to the broad position she embraced in her 2006 gubernatorial campaign, which Matt compares to Bob McDonnell’s 2009 approach.

This is where I disagree with Matt — Palin’s 2006 campaign was a highly idiosyncratic insurgent effort founded in no small part on her support for measures that can’t be described as conservative by the standards of the lower 48. And her central accomplishment in office was to pass a windfall profits tax on oil companies.

(6) But again, Matt offers straightforwardly constructive advice: “But she also might spend less time discussing campaign intrigue and Alaska trivia, and more time outlining how to spur job creation through tax reform,” and, he goes on to suggest, emphasize the downsides of the Democratic agenda.

Matt never suggests that Palin will necessarily take these steps. Rather, he is suggesting that she ought to do so if she intends to win. He has aligned himself with reformers like Mitch Daniels who argue that conservative candidates need to present workable, effective solutions to the various problems facing middle class and working class voters in non-ideological, non-polarizing language. Yet the fact that Matt isn’t unremittingly hostile to Palin is reason enough for many readers to reflexively dismiss his arguments.

I find this pretty depressing, albeit pretty predictable. What’s worse is that this contributes to a tit-for-tat culture that is the enemy of thoughtful, reasoned discussion.

The Biggest, The Dumbest, The Blockbusteriest

My quick take on 2012 is up at Reason. Here’s a sample:

Not content merely to be another Big, Dumb Blockbuster, it aims for something greater: to be the Biggest, the Dumbest, the Blockbusteriest.

And with its never-ending parade of glorious, ludicrous, and utterly improbable catastrophes, it more or less succeeds. 2012 is the sort of movie so aggressively hyperbolic and devoutly over-the-top that it makes traditional descriptive labels obsolete and thus requires the invention of whole new words. My suggestions? How about catastrophaganza—the subgenre to which 2012 (and most of Emmerich’s oeuvre) belongs—and retardiculous—the best combo word to describe its barfy blend of low-quality yucks; treacly, social-welfare obsessed melodrama; buzz-word-laden psuedo-scientific babble; and gleefully apocalyptic pyrotechnic spectacle.

Seven Isn't Just a Name on Seinfeld

1) Math is hard when you learn it inside the American educational system.

2) Interesting stuff from Tim Lee about large organizations. And he is right about exhausted doctors!

3) You’ve probably been underestimating pottery:

In the usual experience of archeologists, inventions flow from mainlands to islands, and small peripheral societies aren’t supposed to contribute revolutionary advances to the rest of the world. It therefore astonished archeologists to discover that the world’s oldest known pottery was made in Japan 12,700 years ago. For the first time in human experience, people had watertight containers readily available in any desired shape. With their new ability to boil or steam food, they gained access to abundant resources that had previously been difficult to use: leafy vegetables, which would burn or dry out if cooked on an open fire; shellfish, which could now be opened easily; and toxic foods like acorns, which could now have their toxins boiled out. Soft-boiled foods could be fed to small children, permitting earlier weaning and more closely spaced babies. Toothless old people, the repositories of information in a preliterate society, could now be fed and live longer. All those momentous consequences of pottery triggered a population explosion, causing Japan’s population to climb from an estimated few thousand to a quarter of a million.

4) Generally I think that celebrity profiles are a waste of time. Seeing one in The New York Times Magazine, you know the writer is going to attempt something that won’t redound to their professional embarrassment among other journalists, so I read this piece on Megan Fox, wondering how the writer would attempt her own Gay Talese feat. What it’s missing is the writer’s insights about what Ms. Fox’s peculiar life tells us about how celebrity is evolving. The subject provides all sorts of opportunities to suggest a theory. She realizes that she doesn’t have any particular acting talent, for example, yet persists in the belief that there isn’t anyone like her. But so what? I feel as though I’ve read what just missed being the rare worthwhile celebrity profile. What is the genre for if not something more than just telling us about some celebrity?

5) “Conservative Inc.” is the most useful new term I’ve seen in months.

6) At a fancy prep school, this happened:

At last week’s assembly, former SBP and current comedian Scott Rogowsky ’03 made the following comment about an adolescent crush of his: “I really mostly liked her because she had huge bazongas.

I trust you can imagine the controversy that ensued, and the backlash. I haven’t any interest in expressing an opinion on the merits, but I do want to congratulate high school student Sarah Sanders, whose opinion piece on the controversy is well written and argued — I’d say it’s of a higher quality than a lot of stuff published in the op-ed pages of major newspapers. This is a particularly impressive feat when the English department is staffed with faculty whose persuasive writing resembles in style the worst features of liberal arts school screeds. As a dictator, I’d like to think that I’d refrain from committing the kinds of atrocities that come from being corrupted by power, but odds are better than not that I’d send Harry Bauld to English teacher re-education camp, where you’re forced to reach Politics and the English Language under harsh compact fluorescent light bulbs for days on end.

7) And you mocked my lyrics.

Ringside Interview -- Taking Aim at the Judge's Scoring

John Hawkins and I just finished Round 2 of our debate. His remarks are here. Mine are here. Please do check them out.

We’re due to go one last round, an opportunity to quickly address outstanding disagreements and write up our conclusions. Prior to penning that entry, I’d like to highlight a couple sections from Mr. Hawkins’ latest, because I think they shed light on the ongoing divisions on the right. I’ll link this post when I compose my final piece, and should Mr. Hawkins desire it, I’d gladly publish any response he has to this entry in particular as a full post here at The American Scene.

It is important to know that Mr. Hawkins and I were discussing the right’s failures during the Bush Administration — specifically, a list I offered in my first post that included:

…profligate spending, the prescription drug benefit, the early management of the Iraq War, No Child Left Behind, the financial industry bailout, the Harriet Meyers nomination, attempts at foolhardy immigration reform, rising deficits, a GOP establishment that lost touch with the grassroots, official corruption, etc.

Mr. Hawkins states that these weren’t cases “where conservative politicians pursued conservative positions and were rejected by the American people.” Quite right! As I’ve written many times, the Bush Administration’s failure doesn’t reflect poorly on conservatism. He goes on to assert that the failures of the Bush era were in fact cases “where conservative politicians were convinced by people of Conor’s ideological temperament to abandon conservative governance, and it led to disaster.” This is a groundless, preposterous assertion.

I didn’t favor any item on that list, save the Iraq War, a conflict I wrongly supported when I though that Saddam Hussein possessed biological weapons. It is a bit unclear who Mr. Hawkins regards as belonging to the same “ideological temperament” as me, but there are plenty of so-called dissident conservatives who opposed all those policies, and it is quite a ludicrous to say that any of them managed, via their blog posts at The American Scene or The American Conservative or Reason, or via Crunchy Cons or Grand New Party, to “convince conservative politicians” to pass No Child Left Behind, or to bailout the financial industry, or to let the deficit grow to epic proportions, or to launch the K Street project, or to cozy up to Jack Abramoff.

Aren’t there several obvious reasons why conservative politicians during the Bush era failed to govern according to the ideological principles they espoused? A student of American politics might cite factors including the median voter theorem, the combination of Rovian political strategy and Bush’s bully pulpit, the influence of moneyed donors on Republican elected officials, or any number of other factors that usually explain why politicians break with principle. For Mr. Hawkins, however, these failures are due to people like me — opinion journalists! — convincing conservative politicians to abandon their principles. A premise that wrongheaded explains the irrational antagonism directed at those regarded as dissidents, and as striking is the degree to which Mr. Hawkins seems unable to distinguish between political moderates on one hand and those who critique the conservative movement for its failings on the other.

Elsewhere in the same exchange, I assert that the right would do well to practice “tolerance of dissent and engaging dissenters on the merits of their arguments, rather than heretic-hunting or accusations of disloyalty/bad-faith.” Mr. Hawkins responds, “Does that same standard EVER, EVER, EVER get applied to people like David Brooks, David Frum, or for that matter, Conor Friedersdorf? Why do the people who get accused of being racists, xenophobes, and too dumb to understand politics always have to be the ones who forgive while the same blockheads who never learn from their mistakes insist on getting their way again?” This causes Mark Thompson at The League of Ordinary Gentlemen to note, “The first punch in the combination on racism and xenophobia hits home hard – it’s tough to earn someone’s trust if you’re making claims like that about them.”

In fact, this paints another inaccurate portrait of dissident conservatives. Where have David Frum, David Brooks, or I — or any of the other dissidents with whom we’re familiar — claimed that folks on the right who disagree with us are racists and xenophobes? For my part, I’ve explicitly written that figures as diverse as Rush Limbaugh, George W. Bush, Dick Cheney and Sarah Palin aren’t racists in the space of the last couple weeks!

And while Mr. Brooks, Mr. Frum and I are an odd trio to lump together, insofar as we disagree on so many things, we’re also united in routinely disagreeing with others on the right about politics without claiming that our interlocutors are “too dumb to understand politics.” Orthodox movement conservatives tell themselves that they’re constantly put upon by elite interlocutors who regard them as stupid, but the fact of the matter is that folks like Mark Levin, Dan Riehl and Sean Hannity are the ones who almost constantly claim that dissidents are “too dumb to understand politics,” going so far as to explicitly call us naive useful idiots. Mercilessly mocking us by marshaling the most insulting ad hominem attacks imaginable are a constant feature of their rhetoric, yet their audiences are convinced that it is they who are put upon by Inside the Beltway elites who regard them as idiots. Even in the instances where they are correct, they’re invariably thinking about the wrong elites.

One last point. I concluded my recent entry by addressing a bunch of disparate points that came up in round one. In response to Mr. Hawkins assertion that the right is in some ways better off than it’s ever been before due to the rise of conservative media, I write, “When it comes to news and opinion media outlets, I’d argue that quality matters, and that the right still lags markedly behind the left when it comes to the quality of the journalism it produces — is there any publication on the right, for example, that even approaches the quality of writing and reporting one finds every week in The New Yorker?”

Here is how Mark Thompson characterizes my remark:

This sequence puts Hawkins on the ropes, and Conor looks poised for the knockout. But just before the bell rings, Conor runs out of steam and throws a few weak punches denigrating the quality of the conservative media as compared to the quality of the explicitly liberal media. This series of punches misses because it’s not clearly tied with the theme of the rest of Conor’s argument and Conor lacked the time at the end of the post to set this line of argument up properly. The truncated resulting argument thus comes off as unconvincing and quite likely as a gratuitous shot at conservatives that Hawkins will no doubt use heavily to his advantage in the final round.
Still, the first 3/4 of Conor’s round were near-flawless and landed some clear hay-makers, where Hawkins’ round was inconsistent despite landing some solid blows. Friedersdorf wins the second round of a tough fight. After two rounds, I have it scored 19-all. However, had Conor left out the last paragraph, Hawkins may well have suffered a knock-down that would have left the round 10-8.

If I understand correctly, Mr. Thompson finds my arguments sufficiently persuasive on the merits that I scored a near knockout, but quite apart from its substance, regards the fact that I dare mention the right’s media deficiency as so unpalatable to conservative ears, regardless of its truth, that we’re basically tied in the debate. This is a suboptimal way of evaluating a battle of ideas, and it suggests that Mr. Thompson may be experiencing the soft bigotry of low expectations when he puts himself inside the mind of our audience. Perhaps if I persist in refusing to even consider the merits of certain arguments due to misguided ideological orthodoxy, I’ll one day find myself in a debate where I get to score points even though I’m wrong because my interlocutor made the mistake of saying something true but unpalatable. As yet, I’ve never benefited from that kind of victory.

Links

— Ann Friedman on health care and abortion (see especially her last paragraph, which points out an error in my analysis), disagreeing with my post yesterday, and presumably some of what William Saletan says.

— Imogen Heap does Thriller.

— When disgruntled newspaper editors attack.

— I always enjoy Glenn Loury versus John McWhorter.

Why I'll Never Be a Singer-Songwriter

What I’d love is if I posted these absurd lyrics on the Internet, and someone composed some accompanying music. Naturally we’d split the vast royalties sure to result.

When I was young, before my West was won
I didn’t like whiskey or gin.
Out on the town, when my friends were around,
My hankerings would cause me chagrin.

They say you can’t lose, when you’re buyin’ the booze
They won’t question your testosterone
It’s true drinking whiskey, or even Vermouth
But this beverage I crave alone.

So I’d summon the man, with the towel in his hand
And his finger on the club soda gun
Thirsty as Texas, parched as a prune
My booze-hounding not yet begun.

I’d started to think, “I’ll need a shrink,
if my order causes him to make fun.”
He said, “We’ll serve you some whiskey, or even some Skyy
but I won’t serve Bacardi Limon.”

So over the years, I conquered my fears
of spirits that coarsen the tongue.
I started with Boons, and when I made it to Cuervo
I knew that my journey was done.

That’s when I met you, drinking spiked Mountain Dew
My eyes filled to the brim with tears
Sure as God reigns I knew, that if I married you
I could feel manly just drinking beers.

CHORUS:

And now it takes seven beers until I can’t remember
The sixth sense that I had you’d be my wife.
You spent 5 years in my head, four months in my bed.
Now it’s three in the morning
and the odds you won’t call are two to one.

A Superficial, Comparative Look at Healthcare Systems

As that rare beast, a French free marketer, I have been looking at the healthcare debate in the US with mixed emotions. Sometimes bemused detachment. Sometimes anxiety, as I know how much European healthcare depends on American innovations.

As the debate has unfolded, I have been thinking about how the healthcare system I enjoy and the US healthcare system, the way I’ve seen it portrayed, work.

The French healthcare system is one of the few things we get to be justifiably proud of. It is relatively cheap. It avoids many (though by no means all) of the dysfunctions involved with other “government-run” healthcare systems. It covers everyone, and covers them pretty well all else considered. Given France’s demographic profile it probably isn’t sustainable over the long run, and looks set for either catastrophic collapse or drastic scaling back twenty years from now, depending on our politicians’ maturity. But as of right now, I think it’s fair to say that it is one of the very best, if not the best, healthcare system in the world.

Meanwhile, the US healthcare system (and there are actually US healthcare systems, between private insurance, Medicare, the VHA, etc.), though mind-bogglingly complex, has much going for it. There’s little doubt that the world’s top hospitals and medical practitioners and researchers are mostly in the US. The vast majority of Americans are actually happy with the healthcare they get. That said it also has dramatic flaws. Even though many figures bandied about by reform proponents are flawed, it is still, I believe, hardly justifiable to have so many uninsured. It is rife with inefficiencies.

But the one thing that struck me the most through this debate is how actually similar the two systems are.

The French healthcare system is actually mostly employer-based (a criticism often leveled at the US system). I get coverage through my school (students pay a fee to one of several public, but competitive firms that provide coverage for students) and, because I’m under 25, through my parents. As an entrepreneur, once I get married, I will get coverage through my wife.

The French healthcare system hasn’t always been universal. The CMU, our version of Medicare-for-all, actually came into force in 2000. Between Hillarycare and LBJ-era proposals, an alternate universe where Americans got universal healthcare before Frenchmen is a not-outlandish-at-all proposition.

The French healthcare system is actually quite free market, or at least competitive. There are private hospital chains listed on the French stockmarket, just as in the US, and unlike many other European countries. A publicly-run, tax-financed insurance scheme provides basic coverage to everyone, but most workers and their families (and retirees with savings) get top-ups through private, employer-provided insurance. You can buy insurance outside of your employer, too. Insurers (public and private) compete, private hospitals compete, doctors (not yet pharmacists) compete.

It is all very regulated, often haphazardly so, but then again that’s also true of the US system.

So, why does it work so well in France and so badly in the US? (Insert here caveats about how the French system really isn’t so great and the US system really not so bad, all true.)

I think the big thing is that the French system is much cheaper. Drug are cheap because of price controls, collective bargaining and lower GDP. French doctors make very little money relative to their studies.

As an aside, I am retrospectively struck by how, growing up in an upper-middle class household, medical school was never considered an option for me. When I was a kid and grownups asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up, I was suggested lawyer, engineer, journalist, high functionary (vive la France…), but never doctor, and when I was looking at colleges and majors, the idea never even came up. French doctors go to school for at least a decade in ghastly conditions (there are no grandes écoles for medicine, so it’s all done in derelict public universities), are underpaid until their thirties, work punishing hours, and unless they’re in lucrative specializations, work in a private hospital, or have a general practice in a wealthy place, make relatively good money but nothing great. Incidentally, starting a business was never a popular choice either.

It’s hard to imagine these characteristics being imported in the US. Even putting aside for a second the formidable lobbying might of the pharmaceutical and medical professions, there’s good evidence that turning drugmaking into a low-margin, utility business would kill medical innovation, and that we don’t want medical school to become a low/negative ROI proposition for bright young students.

So is the French system really the US system only much cheaper and with a sorta-public-option? Maybe, maybe not. Beyond these broad characteristics, not being an expert, I can’t really make an informed judgment.

But I felt that pointing this out might illuminate a couple things, mainly the following: first of all, that while it’s sometimes useful to draw stark contrasts between alternatives, it can be even more useful to realize that they may not be so different after all. The US system isn’t nearly as “free market” as some seem to believe; the French system isn’t nearly as “socialized” as some fear (or others might like). The second thing that’s interesting, in my view, is how often the devil is in the details.

If so much of the basic framework of the US and French systems is the same and the result is so different, perhaps the answer isn’t to overhaul either one but to take a granular view and smartly shift a few things here and there. This might have important ramifications for most public policy, I think.

Leave the Wall - Remember You Must Always Leave the Wall

In the fall of 1989, I was taking a course called “Comparative Socialist Politics” which dealt with the differences in political structure and political history among the various Communist countries, with a particular focus (as I recall) on Poland, Hungary and Yugoslavia. (We did quite a bit on the Soviet Union, naturally, a little bit on China, nothing at all on Vietnam, Cuba, etc.) At the start of the semester, this was a course in the Political Science department; by the end of the semester, it was offered for History credit.

In the fall of 1989, I was taking a course called “Comparative Socialist Politics” which dealt with the differences in political structure and political history among the various Communist countries, with a particular focus (as I recall) on Poland, Hungary and Yugoslavia. (We did quite a bit on the Soviet Union, naturally, a little bit on China, nothing at all on Vietnam, Cuba, etc.) At the start of the semester, this was a course in the Political Science department; by the end of the semester, it was offered for History credit.

Just kidding, of course, but it was incredible to suddenly see the entire curriculum become both instantly irrelevant – over the next few months and years, the countries that were our primary focus underwent radical political change, and were no longer “Socialist” (i.e., Communist) polities – and vastly more relevant – suddenly, it was actually useful to know something about the political history of these countries, because they were no longer Soviet satellites, presumed to be controlled from without; it actually mattered who was who in Poland, in Hungary. And that’s to say nothing of what happened in Yugoslavia.

That summer, I set out to see at least a little bit of history first-hand. I flew first to Prague, where I had pretty much exactly the Before Sunrise experience of my dreams, and so I remember almost nothing of the city. From there, I went to Berlin, where big chunks of the wall were still up.

I title this next image, “neo-conservatism enters its second, more aggressive phase.”

Probably my fondest recollection of Berlin was my encounter with a group of anarchists who had an encampment in the Potsdamer Platz on what was technically East German territory but on the West German side of the wall (a result, no doubt, of some kind of surveying or construction glitch). Because the territory was East German, the West German police had no authority to enter the little strip of land; because it was on the West German side of the wall, the East Germans, as a practical matter, could not get at them. And so a filthy little settlement thrived, after a limited fashion.

Of course, now that the wall was down, they had no future. Their anarchist paradise was destined to be paved over to put up a parking lot, a shopping mall, a cinema multiplex . . . etc. When I met them, their backs no longer against the wall, most of the anarchists were quite forlorn.

Except for this one. But I think he was high.

Okay, I’m no Christopher Isherwood. So sue me.

Whose Jews?

The decision by the Court of Appeal in this case was wrong on its face. The student would face no obstacle to admission if her mother had undergone an orthodox rather than a progressive conversion. That’s not discrimination based on ethnicity but on religious practice. The chief executive of Liberal Judaism, Rabbi Danny Rich, admits as much in the article when he says the JFS is “selecting applicants on the basis of religious politics.” That’s not an ethnic criterion. The only question is whether a religious school is allowed to favor one religious denomination over another, which seems pretty clearly to be the case.

Apart from this, however, the British courts are imposing a Christian view of religion on Jews. Christianity is a universal religion that takes no account of ethnicity. In Judaism, however, religion is inseparable from a particular “chosen people,” ethnic Jews. By forcing British Jews to accept a distinction between religion and ethnicity, Britain is unabashedly Christianizing them.

An American court probably would not impose a similar decision. (The fact that this is a state school, let alone that there is even a Chief Rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth, indicates that Britain lacks the same tradition opposing religious establishments — though of course the Chief Rabbi is no longer exactly the Archpriest of the Jews in England.) The U.S. Constitution requires more deference to religious beliefs and institutions. But an interesting question is to what extent the American government can regulate religious institutions that, directly or indirectly, receive public funds. Regulations like this one, which purports only to require a state-funded institution to follow a secular law, may implicate religious belief — and that might sometimes make public support for religious institutions self-defeating.


An update…

Climate Change Discussion

You may (or may not) have noticed my almost total lack of blogging over the past few months. I have been devoting all of my time available for writing to my book.

I did, however, do a bloggingheads discussion over the weekend with David Orr, an academic who has written a very hard eco-left book on climate change and related subjects. He is also charming, smart, well-informed and well-intentioned. The subject was his book, so I tried mostly to explore his views rather than yak about my own, but I spent probably half the time on various iterations of a question that I find to be the key one with climate change action advocates: “What is the maximum price you would pay to avoid deleterious effects of climate change?” That exchange starts at about the 20 minute point.

Four Items, A La Carte

1) Over at Right Wing News, John Hawkins and I are having a debate that flows from the prompt, “How would you advise the right going forward?” Round One is now up. His entry is here. My own take is here. I’d love to get feedback from The American Scene’s readers, so do give the entries a read, and have at it in comments.

2) Mathew Continetti reinforces my belief that it is wise to limit one’s stay in Washington DC, lest you’re tempted to start writing nonsense like this, embarrassing yourself in the process. Populist leaders have held very modest views of government, Continetti writes, name-checking Andrew Jackson, William Jennings Bryan and Ronald Reagan.

And Palin? Time and again, she has run against elites who, in her view, are ignoring the public interest. She overthrew a three-term incumbent mayor of Wasilla because he wasn’t as conservative as the people he represented. She used sales tax revenues and bond issues to help the town grow into a thriving suburb. She knocked off a Republican energy commissioner, a Republican attorney general, and an incumbent Republican governor because she felt that they were helping themselves and their friends and not the Alaskan people. As governor, she passed a sweeping ethics reform, changed the tax code so Alaskans got their fair share of oil revenues, and introduced competition and transparency into the construction of a natural gas pipeline.

When you find yourself lauding a politician for “using sales tax revenues and bond issues” as mayor to help their municipality grow, it’s a pretty good sign that your case is laughably thin. Is there any mayor in America who doesn’t use sales tax revenue for that purpose? How is “using local bond issues” evidence of populist cred? Next we’ll learn that she presided over City Council meetings where any citizen could rise to a podium and speak their mind!

Mr. Continetti’s language might also lead readers to imagine that a natural gas pipeline has been built in Alaska, thanks in part to Sarah Palin, but actually construction on the project hasn’t even begun. My understanding is that she worked on issuing a contract for the project, not its construction. You’d think that competition in bidding would be termed “a basic responsibility of competent officials operating under any governing philosophy” as opposed to “populism.”

Overall, it’s just a terrible piece — check out what Mr. Continetti thinks a populist approach to health care entails — though I suppose it’s becoming fairer everyday to call Mr. Continetti “the intellectual force behind Palinism.” Talk about damning with faint praise. My least favorite emotion is embarrassment for others. It is particularly unpleasant when a guy with an agile mind and writerly talent finds himself lacking the intellectual integrity to do good work.

3) Kerry Howley profiles Kathleen Parker — an interesting, well-written piece.

4) The estimable Ann Friedman, an exceptional writer and thinker, excoriates Democrats for adding a provision to the health care bill that prohibits federal funding for abortion.

What precisely does the amendment do?

The amendment will prohibit federal funds for abortion services in the public option. It also prohibits individuals who receive affordability credits from purchasing a plan that provides elective abortions. However, it allows individuals, both who receive affordability credits and who do not, to separately purchase with their own funds plans that cover elective abortions. It also clarifies that private plans may still offer elective abortions.

Ms. Friedman writes:

This isn’t just about how the money is allocated or what workarounds exist. This has me so incredibly infuriated because it further segregates abortion as something different, off the menu of regular health care. It is a huge backward step in the battle to convey — not just politically but to women in their everyday lives — that reproductive health care is normal and necessary, and must be there if (or, more accurately, when) you need it.
This also sets apart women’s rights from the Democratic/progressive/whatever agenda. As something expendable. But fundamental rights for women are not peripheral. They are core. And not just because of so-called progressive values. In a political sense, too: Seeing as how the Democratic Party relies on women voters to win elections, you would think they would have come around to this no-brainer by now.
It’s pretty cramped underneath this bus, what with 50 percent of Americans down here.

A couple thoughts:

a) The bigger role the federal government takes in funding health care, the more you’re going to see politicians interfering in matters that would otherwise be left to doctors and patients, and the more controversial these battles are going to become among the public. This seems obvious to me, but I never see progressive writers worrying about it.

Isn’t it perfectly possible that 10 or 20 years from now, a president will come along who the left likes even less than George W. Bush, or that abortion will be less popular than it is now among voters, or that an influential political minority will turn against contraception, or that a majority of people or Congressmen will make some decision about health care funding that progressives find abhorrent? Even now, the American electorate and progressives aren’t perfectly aligned on all sorts of matters relating to health care. You’d think that as a result, the left would favor giving money to folks too poor to afford health care, so that they could spend it any way they wish, rather than pushing a public option that is subject to a political process where they’ll inevitably lose some battles. After all, abortion is unarguably something that the vast majority of Americans see as something “different than regular health care.” Whether they are right or wrong, it is unrealistic to imagine that the political process won’t reflect that widespread belief.

b) There are many women in the United States who oppose abortion, and if asked would agree that federal money shouldn’t fund it, so the assertion that the amendment throws 50 percent of the population under the bus isn’t accurate, unless one takes the position that these anti-abortion women are suffering from false consciousness.

c) Abortion isn’t an issue that I write about with any regularity. I’ve agonized over it at various times, never reaching any conclusion with which I am comfortable. My dearest friends include people who’ve come to dramatically different conclusions. They’ve done so in good faith. I can’t fault any of them for it, though obviously at least some of them are wrong on an issue with grave implications for millions of people, whatever turns out to be objectively right.

The unknowable thing for me is when human life begins, when it is morally required to protect it, etc. Intuitively, it seems wrong — though not implausible — to say that human life starts at conception. Likewise, I’d be deeply troubled by killing a fetus as 8 months. But where do you draw the line? I can’t prove when life begins, or whether or not God exists, or whether my intuitions about the kinds of life that require protecting are even correct, or any number of other questions that might make the abortion issue an easy one, rather than the most difficult political issue in America. My uncertainty makes me loathe to impose a legally binding answer on other people, so you’ll never see me in a pro-life rally — but the same uncertainty makes me deeply uncomfortable with abortion, insofar as my personal take is that uncertainty in life or death circumstances calls for erring on the side of caution.

That’s why I’ve always taken great care to never be in a position where I inadvertently conceive a child, and why if I ever were in that position, I’d rather dramatically reorganize my life forever than see the abortion even of a child I wish I hadn’t helped conceive. So you can see why I’d feel uncomfortable with the notion of my tax dollars being used to fund abortions — just as I am presently uncomfortable that my tax dollars are used to fund the death penalty — and wish that they weren’t, even as I strongly support all sorts of reproductive health care for women, including abortions in cases when the life of the mother is at risk. The counterargument, of course, is that some folks would object on moral grounds to vaccines, or birth control, or Viagra, or medicine that was tested on animals. Should they be able to veto federal spending?

5) I argue with Andy McCarthy here.

5 Items, Zero Spin

1) My letter to Jonah Goldberg is as yet unanswered. Should that change, I hope the response reflects his genuinely held convictions, rather than his efforts to “do his part“ in the spin wars.

2) Johann Hari’s Slate piece on Ayn Rand is just the latest example of a journalist who writes about the extraordinarily popular author but it utterly unable to understand her appeal. Perhaps someone should figure out precisely why so many Americans regard her as someone with valuable insights. I’ll happily submit to an interview on that subject. Meanwhile see here for a smart Ayn Rand critique. (Via Rod Dreher)

3) This is easily the best piece on Michael Bloomberg’s re-election.

4) “If there were no War on Drugs, I sincerely believe that within a single generation, there would be no perceptible “crisis in black America,” and this book shows much of why that’s true. The War on Drugs turns whole neighborhoods against the cops—with no discernible benefit after more than 30 years.” — John McWhorter, recommending the book Snitch.

5) Aztec warriors, enamored by the iridescence of humming birds, sometimes contrived to outfit themselves in ankle length hummingbird feather coats, so that striding into the slanting sunlight of late afternoon they’d shimmer like otherworldly apparitions. How depressing that the most likely contemporary application of this knowledge involves pay per view “wrestling.”

1919

I’ve finished up 1919, and started on The Big Money.

Anyone who abandoned the project before the end of 1919, go grab your copy, skip to the end of the book, and read “The Body of an American” chapter. It stands alone as a prose poem, a sort of “I Hear America Putrefying.” But it also pulls together Dos Passos’ ambitions and his omnivorous approach to portraying WWI-era Americans. Well, white WWI-era Americans, but that’s another conversation.

The idea of the Unknown Soldier always had an imaginative pull to me: as a kid, I was fascinated by the way indeterminacy could stand for universality. (Uh, spoiler alert: the Unknown Soldier dies near the end.) In this one chapter, Dos Passos does for the dismembered doughboy what he does for all his other characters, but more so. He follows the soldier not just from birth, but from conception, all the way to his confused, shell-splattered demise. Along the way, the soldier’s identity slips from one person to the next, and since Dos Passos’ characters often serve as little more than cameras through which we see places, the soldier stands for the land in all its variety as much as for the American people. Read it.

For those of you still keeping up, here are some topics for consideration.

Sex

What a miserable bunch of sad sacks these characters are, fumbling along in frustration until someone gets pregnant, at which point everything falls apart. The revolutionaries all talk big about freeing themselves from bourgeois notions of sexual propriety, but their revolution never quite arrives. Sexual liberation proves just as elusive — or illusory — as the workers’ uprising, and the two ideals are caustically juxtaposed. The bourgeois characters also dabble in liberated rhetoric when it suits their urges, but always fall back on convention somehow. Pregnancy, in almost every case, sets the rules.

So I keep wondering: if these characters could exercise the autonomy they claim they’d enjoy, what would they do with it? Would they be any happier?

Violence

Dos Passos makes no secret of his sympathies for the Wobblies and other heroes of American socialism, and his account of the Seattle General Strike, and the brutal response of the forces of reaction, makes Howard Zinn’s version seem cool and dispassionate. But there’s nothing about these earnest revolutionaries that suggests they’d be any less eager to employ rifle butts than Ole Hanson was. Just as with sex, none of the characters seem to have what it would take to wisely use the power they’re chasing. A pessimistic read of the series (is there any other kind?) suggests that by WWI, our institutions were already beyond democratic control, even by the well-intended, and that in the U.S., force and only force would dictate peoples’ economic and political lives.

American Immunity

Conspicuously absent in the book is a “war is hell” thread. Dos Passos hints at the horrors of trench combat, but the American characters who volunteer for service in WWI, whether in the military or driving ambulances, spend their time whoring and cafe-hopping. Pregnancy is a bigger threat to their well-being than Zeppelins or mustard gas. Americans are revered by the French not for their heroism, but for the material abundance they represent. I consider this one of the novels’ finest touches.

Along these lines, here’s a picture of an American ambulance driver. The driver’s name is Walt Disney.

Did you know someone made a rock opera about the Seattle General Strike? Now you do.

A Radical or Marginal Change?

The excellent blogger Rod Dreher writes:

I understand the case for same-sex marriage, though I don’t agree with it, but look, if you’re reduced to having to tell the public that they have no right to be consulted about the radical redefinition of a bedrock social and cultural institution, then you have a big, big problem.

Since he’s grappled many times with arguments for and against gay marriage, I haven’t any desire to rehash the whole debate, but I do want to challenge Rod on one small aspect of how he characterizes this issue: Would the legalization of gay marriage really be a “radical redefinition” of the social and cultural institution? Maybe same sex marriage is a radical departure from marriage as understood by orthodox Christians, or people for whom it is primarily a procreative union.

But I submit that a majority of Americans subscribe to a definition that more closely resembles the following: Marriage is the union of people who fall in love with one another, decide that they want to spend the rest of their lives together, and commit to do so monogamously. The definition I’ve offered isn’t merely more commonly accepted among Americans than whatever Rod Dreher would describe, it is perfectly consistent with marriage laws as now written.

Expanding marriage to include gay people doesn’t radically redefine the understanding of marriage that prevails in our culture. As Rod himself writes, “heterosexual America has already conceded the philosophical grounds on which traditional marriage was based.” It is therefore specious for opponents of same sex marriage to invoke as an argument the proposition that “it’s dangerous to radically redefine the status quo.”

Obviously, Rod has other arguments to offer against same sex marriage, but if they want to remain on intellectually solid ground, he and other opponents of same sex marriage must stop using that particular argument. Same sex marriage may be an advantageous or disadvantageous change in our society’s understanding of marriage — I believe it is the former — but it is most definitely a marginal change that flows logically from the institution’s prior evolution, not a radical change.

Open Letters, Etc.

1) I knew I’d like that guy who threw punches in the Washington Post newsroom! (Also, if you’ve never read Gene Weingarten before, marvel at this.

2) I’ve written an open letter to Jonah Goldberg.

3) Reihan deserves better than to be juxtaposed next to nonsensical Facebook commenters.

4) Thanks to Maine voters, gay people in the state will be legally prohibited from making state sanctioned commitments to lifetime monogamy. This is billed as a conservative victory.

"Frum Forum"

It sounds like an Orthodox Jewish bulletin board, but it’s actually David Frum’s rebranded blog. Too bad Frum Youth and Frum Teens are already taken; there’s nowhere for the next generation of “Frum conservatives” to go. But maybe giving up on New Majority means he’s not quite sure there will be a next generation.

Bad-itude

It’s difficult to describe just how terrible and uninspired the new Weezer record is, but I give it a shot in today’s Washington Times.

The Banality of "The Banality of 'The Banality of Evil'"

Even more annoying than the people who yammer on about “the banality of evil” are those who obsessively denounce the idea. “Oh, the banality of ‘the banality of evil,'" someone will say, exasperated that he alone holds people accountable while everyone else denies our capacity for moral choice and excuses mass atrocity. However banal the original insight might be, the comeback — that people make choices for which they are morally responsible — far outdoes it. Yet Ron Rosenbaum has been building this case for at least ten years. In 1999, he wrote that the banality cliché is “a sophisticated form of denial … Not denying the crime but denying the full criminality of the perpetrators.” Last week he repeated the charge. But one would think that a decade of cogitation would yield a more compelling argument than this:

Either one knows what one is doing is evil or one does not. If one knows and does it anyway, one is evil, not some special subcategory of evil. If one doesn’t know, one is ignorant, and not evil. But genuine ignorance is rare when evil is going on.


Read more…

Older articles ↓