« Music | Main | Religion »

Politics

April 16, 2009

The Tea Parties

They resemble nothing so much as the anti-war protests during Bush's first term. The claim that they don't have an organizing premise strikes me as obviously wrong: They're anti-bailout, anti-stimulus, anti-deficit, and anti- the tax increases that will eventually be required to pay for the current spending spree, and complaining that they don't also have a ten-point plan for reforming Medicare and Social Security reflects a misunderstanding of the nature of protest marches, I think. The claim that they're hypocritical and partisan is a bit stronger - where were they when Bush was running up the deficit, etc. - but in fairness, many of the organizing figures were anti-TARP from the beginning, and there's something slightly odd about saying that if you didn't take to the streets to protests a $300 billion deficit you aren't allowed to protest a $1 trillion deficit. The numbers matter, surely ...

But they do have all of the weaknesses of the anti-war marches: Their message is intertwined with a sense of disenfranchisement and all kinds of inchoate cultural resentments, they've brought various wacky extremists out of the woodwork (you know, like Glenn Beck), and just as George W. Bush benefited from having opposition to his policies identified with peacenik marchers in Berkeley and Ann Arbor, so Barack Obama probably benefits from having the opposition (such as it is) associated with a bunch of Fox News fans marching through the streets on Tax Day, parroting talk radio tropes and shouting about socialism. Obama is a very popular President, at the moment, his unpopularity among Republicans notwithstanding, and it's awfully hard to see the Tea Parties doing much to change that reality in the short run; if anything, they're far more likely to reconfirm the majority in its opinion that American conservatism is increasingly wacky, echo-chamberish, and out-of-touch.

Still, here we are in the sixth year of the Iraq War, and all those anti-war protests, their excesses and stupidities notwithstanding, look a lot more prescient in hindsight than they did (to me, at least) when they were going on. So if you're inclined to sneer and giggle at the Tea Parties, keep in mind that just because a group of protesters looks ragged, resentful, and naive, that doesn't necessarily mean they're wrong to be alarmed:
 
wapoobamabudget1.jpg

April 8, 2009

Is Feminism The New Natalism?

Michelle Goldberg, explaining why liberals should care about demographic decline:

... it's tempting to dismiss concerns about demographic decline as an anti-feminist race panic. The thing is, though, rapidly declining birth rates really are a problem, especially for the sort of generous welfare states that liberals love ... I get why liberals have shied away from this discussion, since there's so many uncomfortable issues involved. But they really shouldn't, because the only solutions to the problem are liberal ones! Basically, the societies where birthrates have plunged to dangerous levels - Russia, Catholic countries like Poland, Spain and Italy, as well as Japan and Singapore - are all places that make it very difficult for women to combine work and family. In countries that support working mothers, like Sweden, Denmark, Norway and France, birthrates are basically fine - they're either just at replacement, or shrinking in a very slow, totally manageable way. (The United States is the exception, for a whole host of reasons - some intuitive and some surprising - that I'll elaborate some other time.) That's why the Tory MP David Willetts, in a very smart 2003 report on the threat low birthrates pose to Europe's pension systems, wrote that "feminism is the new natalism." As he explained:
 
The evidence from Italy, and indeed Spain, is that a traditional family structure now leads to very low birth rates...[a] brief tour of birth rates in four European countries helps demonstrate what modern family policy must be about. It has nothing to do with enforcing traditional roles on women...In most of Europe women still aspire to having two children but in Italy and Germany it is very difficult to combine this with women's other aspirations.
In other words, the threat of population decline is one of the best arguments yet for socialized day care, family leave, and other dreamy Scandinavian-style policies. It's a discussion we should welcome.
Well, maybe. I'll be curious to hear what Goldberg has to say about the United States, because one could argue that the threat of population decline is also a reasonable argument for a more flexible, freewheeling labor market, and other dreamy American-style policies. That was one of the takeaways from Russell Shorto's big Times Magazine piece last year on fertility in the developed world, for instance. Like Goldberg, Shorto argued that the combination of a modern economy and a patriarchal social model leaves you with the worst of both worlds where fertility is concerned: Women are expected to be workers and full-time caregivers (to both children and to aging parents, in many cases), men aren't expected to pick up the slack, and so women end up too overwhelmed to contemplate having a second or a third kid, or even a first. But he also noted that while the Scandinavian combination of liberal social attitudes and generous day care and family-leave provisions produce higher birth rates than Spain and Italy, if you're really looking for replacement-level fertility, you need to turn to the United States:

"Europeans say to me, How does the U.S. do it in this day and age?" says Carl Haub of the Population Reference Bureau in Washington. According to Haub and others, there is no single explanation for the relatively high U.S. fertility rate. The old conservative argument -- that a traditional, working-husband-and-stay-at-home-wife family structure produces a healthy, growing population -- doesn't apply, either in the U.S. or anywhere else in the world today. Indeed, the societies most wedded to maintaining that traditional family structure seem to be those with the lowest birthrates. The antidote, in Western Europe, has been the welfare-state model, in which the state provides comprehensive support to couples that want to have children. But the U.S. runs counter to this. Some commentators explain its healthy birthrate in terms of the relatively conservative and religiously oriented nature of American society, which both encourages larger families. It's also true that mores have evolved in the U.S. to the point where not only is it socially acceptable for fathers to be active participants in raising children, but it's also often socially unacceptable for them to do otherwise.

But one other factor affecting the higher U.S. birthrate stands out in the minds of many observers. "There's much less flexibility in the European system," Haub says. "In Europe, both the society and the job market are more rigid." There may be little state subsidy for child care in the U.S., and there is certainly nothing like the warm governmental nest that Norway feathers for fledgling families, but the American system seems to make up for it in other ways. As Hans-Peter Kohler of the University of Pennsylvania writes: "In general, women are deterred from having children when the economic cost -- in the form of lower lifetime wages -- is too high. Compared to other high-income countries, this cost is diminished by an American labor market that allows more flexible work hours and makes it easier to leave and then re-enter the labor force." An American woman might choose to suspend her career for three or five years to raise a family, expecting to be able to resume working; that happens far less easily in Europe.
Incidentally, this is a point that the Willetts report makes as well, though Goldberg doesn't mention it: The intersection of traditional gender roles and a modern economy may be driving down the birth rate in Italy, but that explanation doesn't hold up for Germany, where social attitudes are more liberal, and so Willetts spends a lot of time talking about ... the impact of Germany's labor market regulations on family formation.

In other words, saying that "feminism is the new natalism" doesn't necessarily mean that statism is the new natalism. If you're a "choice feminist," interested in maximizing female (and male, for that matter) freedom to choose to work or to choose not to, you may find more to like about the American way of parenting. (And you might be looking for reforms - like, ahem, a more pro-family tax structure - that would increase the flexibility that our model currently affords to parents.) If you're more of a Linda Hirshman-style feminist, on the other hand, you'll probably prefer the Scandinavian model, where after the guaranteed family leave runs its course, the socialized day care effectively incentivizes parents to get (back) to work whether they want to or not.

On the question of whether the latter model is really as empowering as its advocates assume, it's worth quoting Sandra Tsing Loh:

The debate about mothers and work: it always ends--doesn't it?--with Sweden. Oh, if America could only be like Sweden--such a humane society, with its free day care for working mothers and its government subsidies of up to $11,900 per child per year. The problem? One hates to be Mrs. Red-State Republican Bringdown, but yes ... the taxes. Currently, the top marginal income-tax rate in Sweden is nearly 60 percent (down from its peak in 1979 of 87 percent). Government spending amounts to more than half of Sweden's GDP ... On the upside, government spending creates jobs: from 1970 to 1990, a whopping 75 percent of Swedish jobs created were in the public sector ... providing social welfare services ... almost all of which were filled by women. Uh-oh. In short, as Gilbert points out, because of the 40 percent tax rate on her husband's job, a new mother may be forced to take that second, highly taxed job to supplement the family's finances; in other words, she leaves her toddlers behind from eight to five (in that convenient universal day care) so she can go take care of other people's toddlers or empty the bedpans of elderly strangers. (As Alan Wolfe has pointed out, "the Scandinavian welfare states which express so well a sense of obligation to distant strangers, are beginning to make it more difficult to express a sense of obligation to those with whom one shares family ties.")
That's from Tsing Loh's review of Neil Gilbert's fascinating A Mother's Work: How Feminism, the Market, and Policy Shape Family Life. If you're interested in this topic, you should read the whole thing, and the whole thing.

April 7, 2009

"The Supposedly Free West"?

I take second place to no one in my admiration for James Wood. But I'm looking forward to the day when we're deep enough into Barack Obama's Glorious Restoration of American DemocracyTM that I can read a fine Wood essay on George Orwell without encountering a passage like this:

If his novelistic imagining of totalitarian horror now looks a bit dated, it is partly because his fiction provided the dusty epitaph on a dusty tombstone that he himself helped to carved; and, anyway, his coinages, like "doublethink" and "Newspeak" and "Big Brother," now live an unexpectedly acute second life in the supposedly free West. (To see Fox News go after Jeremiah Wright or Bill Ayers for days on end during the last Presidential election was to think, simply, "Hate Week.")
And there I was, thinking Obama won the last Presidential election ...

April 3, 2009

The Coming Tax Revolt?

Jonah writes:

Just something to ponder. For a couple years now, there's been a growing chorus of pundits, analysts and -- most significantly -- conservative reformers who've claimed to one degree or another that the GOPs anti-tax posture has lost its political salience. There are good arguments on that score, and bad ones. But it seems to me that the tax issue is on its way back. And while nothing is certain, I think it's reasonable to argue that the obituaries for tax cuts as a winning issue for Republicans were almost surely premature.
Speaking as one of those conservative reformers, I'd make two points. First, nobody was saying that tax cuts couldn't potentially become politically salient again if the Republicans got clobbered repeatedly at the polls and a sizable Democratic majority enacted large tax increases. The point - which Reihan and I started making in 2005, back when the GOP's hold on government still seemed reasonably strong - was that it would be nice to prevent that sort of thing from happening, and that an anti-tax message alone was insufficient to the task of forestalling a Republican collapse. In this regard, I don't feel like our obituary was premature; I think it's been largely vindicated by events.

Second, while I'm sure that the long-term costs of the Obama agenda will create space for a renewed anti-tax message, I'm less convinced about the short run - especially if the cap-and-trade bill, which seems like the aspect of his agenda most likely to court short-term backlash, goes down to defeat. Maybe Jonah's right, but I'd like to see his evidence.  

The Case of Howard Ahmanson

Rod Dreher took note of this a little while ago, and over the weekend Kathleen Parker based a column around an interview with Ahmanson, a big-time GOP fundraiser and social conservative who's decided to re-register as a Democrat out of frustration with the California GOP. Ahmanson is a quirky figure, to put it mildly, and you don't want to read too much into his registration flip. But like Obama's surprising gains among traditionalist Catholics, it suggests that my anxieties about our potential Californian future - with a bloated, largely-unbeatable Democratic Party facing off against an anti-intellectual GOP rump - should be extended beyond the possibility of "liberaltarian" voters and thinkers moving into the Democratic column. There are plenty of economically-moderate religious conservatives (pro-life Rawlsekians, if you will) who could say to hell with the GOP too - and the more out-of-touch the Republicans look, the more plausible it becomes for people with views like Howard Ahmanson's to decide that they might as well join the liberaltarians in trying to get whatever they can from the Democrats and let the GOP go hang. (California, you'll recall, is the home of Doug Kmiec as well.)

You could argue that this is just what the Republican Party deserves, but I can't see how it would be good for the country.

April 2, 2009

The Naive Opposition

Ezra Klein, on Paul Ryan's alternative budget:

It's not what you do when you're responsible for running the government. It's what you propose when you're responsible for running the messaging.
I understand what he's getting at, but this phrasing makes it sound like the House Republicans' budget is an exercise in cynicism and partisan political calculation - which is exactly the wrong way to look at what's going on with the House GOP. Sure, there may be some cynicism involved in how the Ryan proposal makes its numbers add up. But the overall outline - an across-the-board tax cut and a flatter tax code, substantial means-testing for Social Security and Medicare, and a five-year discretionary spending freeze - strikes me as the opposite of cynical. Rather, there's a kind of deep innocence about it: The purity of its small-government vision is more detached from the grubby realities of American politics than any similar document I can remember. It's as if the Democratic Party, in the aftermath of it's 2002 and 2004 defeats, had proposed an alternative to George W. Bush's wartime budgets that slashed defense spending dramatically, raised income taxes across the board, and invested all of the resulting revenue in a revivified AFDC, a massive cash grant to the UN, and a big new federal jobs program for "green-collar" workers, community organizers, and Planned Parenthood clinicians.

Now maybe the Democrats should have done just that. Certainly there are left-liberal voices who would have welcomed an explicitly social-democratic alternative to Bushism, as a means of widening the bounds of political discourse, and opening new vistas on the left. Sometimes naivete in the short run is wisdom in the long run. And maybe by providing such a rigorously small-government alternative to Obamanomics, the Congressional GOP will succeed in pushing the conversation rightward, and moving important but hard-to-sell ideas like means-testing entitlements into the mainstream where they belong.

But sometimes naivete is just naivete. Sometimes, putting your least-popular ideas together in one agenda just makes it easier for your opponents to run circles around you. And right now, I think the country could use a right-of-center party that paid a little more attention to its messaging, and a little less attention to its blueprints for the ideal small-government society.

March 26, 2009

Conservatives, Crime Policy, and the Black Vote

A little while ago, Shelby Steele wrote an op-ed discussing the problems that conservatives have appealing to minorities, and especially African-Americans. As long as the black experience is shaped by a sense of grievance and alienation, Steele suggested, there will always be an essentially "anti-conservative orientation" to minority politics, and liberals will always be able to outbid the Right for their votes. There's no way, in the end, for a conservative party to be more activist than the Left, more outraged about the sins of the past, and more redemptorist in its vision for what American politics should do to remedy injustices historical and structural. Instead of trying to out-liberal liberalism, Steele wrote, conservatives need to be true to their best selves as conservatives, and hope that minorities eventually come around to a political vision that treats them as individuals rather than members of a caste, offering "human rather than racial dignity," and "the discipline of ordinary people rather than the virtuousness of extraordinary people."

Treated as a view from 30,000 feet, I basically agree with this argument. You cannot expect the descendants of slaves and the heirs of segregation to embrace a conservative politics en masse until we're much, much further out of those institutions' shadow than we are today; by the same token, it would be bad for conservatism, and for America, if the Right were to seek black votes by jettisoning its core premises, and simply giving up (as the Bush Administration sometimes seemed eager to do) on its long-running critique of the diversity-and-dependency two-step that undergirds modern liberalism's approach to racial issues. Given where the two groups are starting from, in other words, conservatives shouldn't hope for more from African-Americans, and African-Americans more from conservatives, than either group is likely to deliver.

But drop down to ground level for a moment, and consider Ta-Nehisi's response to my post on prison reform. Here we have an issue - the design of our criminal-justice system - that's of burning concern to the African-American community. It's not an easy issue to wrestle with by any stretch: My preferred approach to reform, for instance, would marry a reduced incarceration rate to a substantial increase in the police presence on America's streets, which if implemented clumsily (as most policy shifts are) could mean fewer black men behind bars, but more tragedies like the death of Ta-Nehisi's friend. But it's also an issue where conservatives could embrace policy shifts without compromising their core beliefs - the question of where to strike the "build prisons or hire cops" balance is a practical rather than a philosophical one - and in the process, I think, substantially change the way the Republican Party is perceived in the black community. Also, it would be the right thing to do. 

This is something I think that arguments like Steele's - which are common on the American Right - lose sight of. As I remarked in the context of the Europe-or-America debate, there are a lot of big-picture political issues that boil down to philosophical differences, and that can't (and shouldn't) be resolved or finessed through clever policy thinking. But there are also a lot of political issues that boil down a question of resource allocation: We're going to spend X dollars on prisons and police (or on the military, or on the school system or the highways or what-have-you), and the question is how. And getting that "how" right can make an awfully big difference - to the African-American community, and to many other people as well.

March 25, 2009

The AIDS Libel

I was going to let the latest round of outrage about the Pope, condoms and AIDS pass without throwing in my two cents, but then Jeff Goldberg went and linked to David Rothkopf's list of the world's "biggest losers," which includes Benedict XVI ("a creepy old ex-Hitler Youth member," in Rothkopf's words) for his supposed contribution to "massive death and suffering" in Africa. It's almost as if Jeff's trying to get a rise out of me!

So: I could respond to Rothkopf's claim, and others like it, by suggesting that the Pope's "chastity, not condoms" message to Africans struggling with the HIV epidemic has at least somewhat more evidence behind it than you'd think from the media drumbeat surrounding the issue. But I think the more apposite response is to ask Rothkopf for his evidence that the Vatican's refusal to promote condom use has contributed to disease and death on a grand scale. Do religious Africans have higher infection rates than the irreligious? Do heavily-Catholic populations contract HIV in higher numbers than Muslim, Protestant, or animist populations? Are frequent mass-attenders more likely to contract the disease than infrequent churchgoers? Do graduates of Catholic schools have higher infections than their peers? Are Africans who seek treatment at Catholic hospitals more likely to pass the disease along than people who get their medicine from secular institutions?

"The most striking thing about these articles claiming the Vatican makes Africans die from AIDS is the dearth of factual material," Brendan O'Neill wrote during the last spasm of outrage on this front. His cursory look at the data suggested that no, there was no correlation between being the sort of African most likely to listen to the Pope about sex and being the sort of African most likely to contract HIV. But that was several years ago: Perhaps some new evidence has come to light that Rothkopf would like to share with us. If he has any, I will happily publish it.

In the interim, though, I would suggest that he take a step back and consider that Benedict XVI is the head of an international institution that does as much to fight disease and poverty as any NGO in the world. The Church runs hospitals, clinics, and schools; it channels hundred of millions of dollars in donations from the developed world to the wretched of the earth; it supports thousands upon thousands of priests, nuns and laypeople who work in some of the most difficult and dangerous conditions in the world. And it does so based on the same premises - an attempt to be faithful to the commandments of Jesus Christ - that undergird the Pope's insistence on preaching chastity, rather than promoting prophylactics. There are many other NGOs working in Africa that proceed from different premises, and take a different attitude toward matters sexual as a result, and if David Rothkopf prefers their approach that's perfectly understandable. But unless he's willing to tell the Catholic Church that it should fold up its charitable operations in the developing world and go home, I'd prefer to be spared the lectures on how the Pope is responsible for "massive death and suffering" among populations for whom Catholic institutions have provided lifelines beyond counting over the years, just because he isn't willing to to use his pulpit to preach the importance of playing it as safe as possible, health-wise, while you're committing what the Church considers mortal sin.

March 24, 2009

Crime and Punishment

Isaac Chotiner, on that Atul Gawande piece I just mentioned:

Gawande makes the case that [solitary confinement] can plausibly be called torture. He mentions that few if any other countries keep their prisoners in such conditions, and regrets this unfortunate example of American exceptionalism. However, he leaves one important point out of his otherwise exhaustive case ... Gawande never considers the idea of punishment as an end in itself, and it is here, I think, where liberal writers tend to miss a major motivating factor in our crime policy. There are numerous historical and religious reasons for this belief, and without getting bogged down in too many details, it is worth pointing out that many people believe wrongdoers "deserve" punishment for bad deeds. Others like, I would assume, Gawande, see no value in punishing people unless it serves distinct ends (keeping criminals off the street, deterring crime, etc.). Now, I happen to agree with Gawande, and I see no value in punishment for punishment's sake, but it is probably safe to say this is not a majority opinion in America. 
I don't think it's necessarily clear from the piece that Gawande sees no value in retributive justice. Certainly his argument doesn't require rejecting retribution in toto: You don't have to abandon the idea that wrongdoers deserve punishment to accept that solitary confinement is much more cruel and unusual than you might think if you've never experienced it, and thus probably shouldn't be meted out as often as it is. Just because a criminal deserves punishment doesn't mean that he deserves any punishment. Indeed, if you want a legal system in which punishments are designed to fit crimes, then that's arguably all the more reason to want a prison system that metes out punishments as they're designed to be meted out, and that doesn't permit or practice cruelties above and beyond what legislators, judges and juries have asked for.

I also wonder about Isaac's broader premise: Is it really the case that most liberals - or "liberal writers," at least - reject outright the notion that lawbreakers deserve punishment for their crimes? Obviously, left-wingers tend to emphasize rehabilitation more than right-wingers do, but my assumption has always been that most liberals would agree in some sense with the premise that punishing criminals is a matter of justice as well as deterrence. But I suppose could be wrong.

The Tough-On-Crime Trap

Atul Gawande's New Yorker piece on solitary confinement deserves to be read in tandem with Cato Unbound's symposium on American incarceration rates. The former looks at a particular issue in prison policy, and the latter at the general trend toward ever-greater imprisonment, but both invite the reader to ponder the ways in which one of the biggest policy successes of the past twenty-five years - the large-scale reduction in the crime rate - has enmeshed us in a net of moral compromises from which it's difficult to escape.

The turn toward mass incarceration and tough sentencing was championed, largely by conservatives, in response to what amounted to a long period of emergency in American life: A murder rate that had doubled over twenty years, a robbery rate that had quintupled, an urban landscape that seemed increasingly ungovernable, and so on. And the turn worked: The estimates of its impact vary, but most scholars agree that increased incarceration played a substantial role in the plunging crime rates of the 1990s.

But as you might expect, a policy turn undertaken during a period of emergency will eventually produce diminishing returns - as Steven Levitt puts it, "the two-millionth criminal imprisoned is likely to impose a much smaller crime burden on society than the first prisoner" - even as it imposes substantial moral costs. And precisely because the tough-on-crime approach was largely vindicated by events, it's extremely difficult for elected officials to walk back from some of the dubious practices that have grown up around it - like, say, the possibly cruel-and-unusual use of long-term solitary confinement. As Gawande writes:

Commissioners ... could eliminate prolonged isolation with the stroke of a pen. So, I asked, why haven't they? He told me what happened when he tried to move just one prisoner out of isolation. Legislators called for him to be fired and threatened to withhold basic funding. Corrections officers called members of the crime victim's family and told them that he'd gone soft on crime. Hostile stories appeared in the tabloids. It is pointless for commissioners to act unilaterally, he said, without a change in public opinion.
This political dynamic explains why the chances for effective prison reform probably depend on Nixon-to-China conservatives, who can put the credibility the Right has built up on law and order to good use. (It wouldn't hurt if conservatives were willing to champion some alternative approaches to crime reduction as well.) But they probably also depend on crime rates staying flat, or falling - and in the current downturn that may be too much to hope for.

The Rise and Fall of Culture11

An interesting, largely fair-minded look at a much-too-short-lived experiment.

March 23, 2009

Collapse or Consolidation?

Andrew Stuttaford's big Standard piece on Europe and the economic crisis offers a lot to chew on, but the essential argument is this: Having created a continent-wide government (and governing class) whose responsibilities far outstrip its democratic legitimacy, the nations of Europe risk reaping a populist whirlwind - which "threatens to push already alienated electorates in the direction of the extremist politics of left or right" - as they attempt to navigate through the current crisis. "After decades of routinely bypassing its voters," Stuttaford suggests, the European Union "may well no longer have what it takes to secure their approval for the harsh medicine and painful sacrifices necessary to bring the EU through this ordeal in one piece." 

I wonder, though, if this passage won't turn out to be the most prophetic part of the piece:

... some glass-is-half-full Europhiles believe that the fact that no country can easily work its way through these tribulations alone will conclusively make the case for still closer European integration to some of the EU's more reluctant federalists. You can be sure that this is a rationalization that Brussels will look to exploit: Rahm Emanuel is not the only politician unwilling to waste a crisis. The EU's policy response to the slump is likely to have two objectives: the reconstruction of member-states' economies and the destruction of what's left of their autonomy.
Back here in the States, a week of non-stop "off with their heads" chatter about AIG has left almost everybody in agreement that the primary political fallout from the crisis will be the revival of populism, red in tooth and claw. But if the worst doesn't come to worst, and Western governments manage to muddle through the next couple years without going the way of Iceland, I think it's just as likely that we'll look back on the crash of '08-'09 as having produced a spasm of kabuki populism, followed by the consolidation of even more power in the hands of elite institutions, whether they're in Brussels or the Washington-New York corridor.

If the Western leadership class survives the current crisis, after all, the lesson they're going to draw from it is relatively simple: We must never let this happen again. And while that impulse could be a spur to greater decentralization and democratization, it's more likely to be produce greater supranational regulation, more expansive bureaucracy, and a more hand-in-glove relationship between big government and big business than existed before the crisis. In theory, one way to respond to a "populist whirlwind" would be to make governments more accountable to the voting public. But in practice, I suspect, the more likely response will be to build stronger dikes and firewalls against the dangerous and unpredictable masses, producing post-crisis institutions that are even more insulated from democratic accountability than they were before.

March 20, 2009

The JournoList, Revisited

Reihan does a good job of exploring what you might call the "sociology of political journalism" angle to the liberal list-serv story, which to my mind is the main thing that makes it worth remarking on.

Kinsley and Stem Cells, Revisited

Michael Kinsley was kind enough to respond to this post, in which I objected to his suggestion that pro-lifers who oppose embryo-destructive research don't mean what they say, because if they did they'd want to forbid embryo destruction in fertility clinics as well. He writes:

Douthat's reply was that (a) opponents of stem-cell research do indeed oppose the creation and destruction of all embryos in fertility clinics, and not just the ones that are used for scientific research; but (b) accepting fertility clinics as a given is a compromise with reality, and stem-cell opponents deserve congratulations for playing democracy according to the rules; and (c) in particular, they were, and are, simply asking not to be coerced through the tax system into having their dollars spent in a way they find morally repugnant.

Let's start with (c). Although it's rarely put this way, coercion--especially financial coercion--is at the heart of any political system, including democracy. Almost the whole point of politics is to decide what money is spent communally, and how. Obviously the system can't work if everyone gets to withhold tax dollars from projects they disapprove of. I and many others, for example, would have preferred to not to have our tax dollars go to finance the Iraq war. I'm sure Ross Douthat would have had no problem seeing why that wouldn't work.
Well, sure. But policy choices aren't always a zero-sum game. In the case of the Iraq War, if the government didn't organize an invasion (using the anti-war minority's money to pay for it), it wasn't going to happen: Halliburton and the Blackwater Group weren't about to step up the plate with a private-sector alternative. But research on embryonic stem cell research could happen in the absence of government involvement, and indeed it has - thanks to my own alma mater, among other institutions.

This doesn't make a half-a-loaf compromise, in which the research is allowed but left unfunded, something that Michael Kinsley has to accept. He has every right to seek the coercion of his pro-life antagonists and the use of their tax dollars for the research that he favors; such coercion, as he says, is a normal feature of democratic life. But the fact that he prefers to seek the full loaf doesn't mean that a compromise isn't possible, or that pro-lifers, conscious of the unfavorable landscape in which they're operating, shouldn't be agitating in its favor. After all, some of the pro-life movement's bigger successes, post-Roe, have involved eliminating or reducing public funding for abortion, even as the procedure itself has remained legal and widely practiced. Fighting against government funding for stem-cell research is the equivalent of the Hyde Amendment approach to government funding for abortion: It may not work, but that doesn't mean it doesn't make political sense.

Kinsley goes on:

If it was a tactical compromise to make an issue of stem-cell research while ignoring the vast majority of surplus embryos produced in fertility clinics that are simply destroyed, this compromise was a mighty strange one. Ordinarily, if you intend to compromise, you start by playing up your maximalist position as much as possible, emphasizing how strongly you feel and how difficult it will be to accept half a loaf. Then you compromise. In this case, though, Douthat can only point to a couple of columns by Will Saletan in Slate--one about the octuplets controversy and the other about some law in Italy--to support his contention that pro-lifers "would like to heavily regulate fertility clinics." Maybe they would, but this has played absolutely no part in the stem-cell debate. In Bush's original speech announcing his stem-cell research restrictions eight years ago (now praised by conservatives as a masterpiece of moral reasoning the way liberals praise President Obama's speech on race in Philadelphia) Bush actually praised the work of fertility clinics, claiming--correctly--that in-vitro fertilization has brought happiness to many.
Actually, as Larison notes, Bush's speech came in for quite a bit of criticism from pro-lifers, many of whom eventually came around to defending it because it was clear from the political landscape that this was the best they could hope for. And is it really the case that with every new controversy and debate (and the stem-cell debate was very much a new one for pro-lifers in 2001), the thing to do is "play up your maximalist position as much as possible" before proposing compromises?

I think not. The maximalist pro-life stance - a Human Life Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, which would constrain fertility clinics and abortion doctors alike - is already embedded in the GOP platform, and I can introduce Kinsley to plenty of pro-life groups that spend a lot of energy on whole-loaf campaigns, from the sponsors of Colorado's "personhood" amendment to the "Pill Kills" folks at the American Life League. But most pro-life successes, as I've noted before, involve incrementalism and compromise. If you're a pro-life group working on a partial-birth abortion ban, does it really make sense to kick off your campaign with an extended restatement of their opposition to abortion at every stage of pregnancy? If you're trying to pass a parental-consent law, do you really want to start out by proposing that abortion be banned outright for teenagers, and only work your way around gradually to the provision you actually hope might pass? Most Americans already know that the pro-life movement has a maximalist view of what abortion law should be, I think, which means that restating your maximalism at every opportunity isn't a savvy approach to negotiation - it's a good way to get people to tune you out.

What's more, politics is all about doing your best with the opportunities that present themselves. Kinsley's right that once you get beyond the funding question, there's no necessary reason for pro-lifers to focus more energy on embryo-destroying research than on the general embryo destruction that goes on in fertility clinics. (Though research on embryos created expressly for that purpose is another matter.) But the debate centered around research, rather than fertility clinics, during the Bush years in large part because the government's policy toward funding such research was on the table for review in 2001, creating an opportunity to nudge policy in a slightly more pro-life direction. No such opportunity, so far as I can tell, presented itself where fertility clinics were concerned - or at least, it hadn't until the public outrage surrounding the "Octomom" prompted some pro-lifers to see an opportunity to enact restriction on fertility clinics.

Which was, of course, the point of mentioning "some law in Italy" (as Kinsley puts it). The law in question, passed a while back amid Octomom-style outrage over Italy's freewheeling fertility clinics, is exactly the sort of restriction that Kinsley claims American pro-lifers don't really support, fearful hypocrites that they are. Maybe he's right: Maybe Italian pro-lifers are just more serious and consistent than their American counterparts. (Catholics do tend to be more rigorous in their opposition to killing embryos than, say, Mormons - hence Orrin Hatch's support for stem-cell research, for instance.) But it seems more likely that the Italian pro-lifers are just making the most of a more favorable political environment for clinic regulation than exists in the United States - and that if the American pro-life movement were suddenly transplanted to the Italian environment, its leaders wouldn't be shy about taking up the fertility-clinic issue.

Kinsley concludes by suggesting that he's harping on fertility clinics for essentially tactical reasons: He thinks that the "fertility-anomaly hasn't even occurred to most pro-lifers," and "that when they realize that their logic in opposing stem-cell research would condemn all IVF as well, it will give many reasonable pro-lifers pause--maybe even about their pro-life position in general, certainly about their opposition to stem-cell research." Speaking for all the "unreasonable" pro-lifers out there, I don't think this is a crazy view of the overall political dynamic. Just as lots of people who call themselves pro-choice blanch, for intuitive reasons, at abortions that take place after the first trimester, some Americans who oppose abortion don't really mind the destruction of embryos, and would look askance at a pro-life movement that sought to regulate fertility clinics. But there's a difference between this claim and Kinsley's initial one, which is that the people who are deeply involved in these debates don't understand their premises, and don't really mean what they say. I can assure him that we do. The attempt to apply one's principles pragmatically, and with an eye toward the art of the politically possible, isn't evidence that those principles don't exist.

March 19, 2009

Is There A New Progressive America?

Here's an interesting go-round between Jay Cost and Ruy Teixeira, pivoting off the latter's recent report on "A New Progressive America." I'm on Teixeira's side insofar as it's possible to make predictions about the political future; I'm on Cost's insofar as it isn't. Put another way, I think it would be very difficult to put together a similarly-persuasive report making the case that there's a "New Conservative America" aborning: To the extent that current trends predict future results, current trends are favorable to liberals. The Democratic coalition is growing, and the GOP coalition is shrinking; young voters are to the left of their elders on every issue except abortion and Social Security; and there are deep social trends at work that seem likely to expand demand for government. If the same sorts of people who are voting for liberals now continue voting that way, and the same sorts of people voting for conservatives do the same, we're headed for a long, long progressive ascendancy.

But of course current trends don't always predict future results. Contingency matters enormously. To take the most recent example, the events of 9/11 temporarily dislodged the emerging Democratic majority; if Bush had been a more a successful President, it might have dislodged it permanently, making the 2002 election a template for future struggles between the parties. To take an older example, after LBJ trounced Goldwater in 1964, nobody could have know that the uptick in crime would become a three-decade crime wave, or that the growing quagmire in Vietnam would last for a decade, let alone that these would become decisive factors in our national politics. Which is why this is the strongest part of Cost's rebuttal:

Teixiera's argument about future political demography assumes a static quality to American politics that is ahistorical ... For instance, consider that while John McCain lost the nationwide popular vote by seven points, he won the white Catholic vote by five points. From a historical perspective, this is remarkable. John Kennedy won 81% of non-Hispanic white Catholics, Lyndon Johnson 79%, and Hubert Humphrey (who lost in a three-way race) still won 55%. Forty years ago, any liberal analyst would have concluded that the white Catholic vote belongs to the Democrats. Yet today, we see the GOP holding white Catholics amidst a popular vote wipe out.

Similarly, who would have ever thought that the "white working class" - the backbone of the New Deal coalition for decades - would support the Republicans by 18-points as the nation supported the Democrats by 7? That is the most dramatic proof that voting coalitions are not static - and that we cannot extrapolate future alignments from current ones.

Electoral politics is not akin to Newtonian physics, where you derive your equations and then predict everything from here to eternity. Instead it's unpredictable. Why? One reason is the parties. They select issue positions and emphases to steal the other side's wavering voters and undermine its voting coalition. Again, recent electoral history has demonstrated that both parties are quite adept at this game. In light of that, how can we know whom Hispanics, Asians, "professionals," young voters, or anybody will support in 2048? I'd suggest we cannot. Using demographic estimates to predict long-range political preferences is an impossibly difficult task.
Well, yes ... except that I think probabilities matter a little bit more than Cost allows. Even allowing for his caveats, if you were asked to pick which coalitions you'd rather have at the moment, based on demographic strength alone, you'd choose the Democratic coalition in a heartbeat. Not because we know what's going to happen, but because we don't - and a bet based on probabilities is better than a shot in the dark.

March 18, 2009

The Rise of Ezra Klein

It's awfully hard to say anything that constructive about the infamous JournoList without having access to the kind of discussions that take place on it. When I first heard about it, a while back, it seemed like it might be an example of the movement-ification of American liberalism, in which left-of-center types (especially people in the press) who once would have airily dismissed the idea that they belonged to a partisan "team" began attempting to imitate the conservative movement out of horror at its successes. But then again maybe the email list is just a wonderfully high-minded attempt to "illuminate standard political reporting with expert policy commentary," with no partisan purpose whatsoever. How should I know? I'm not on it!

Either way, though, isn't the real story here not the list itself, but the man behind it? I mean, email chains come and go, but the ability to bring your elders together for a common purpose is a rare thing indeed in media-intellectual circles. Isn't it possible that we're seeing the emergence of Ezra Klein as the William F. Buckley of movement liberalism - the wunderkind around whom older thinkers orbit, with JournoList as the equivalent of National Review in the Fifties, and with your Paul Krugmans, Jeffrey Toobins and Joe Kleins playing Willmoore Kendall or James Burnham to his WFB?

Okay, fine, maybe the parallel doesn't quite hold up. But I do think that Ezra's organizational genius is ultimately the story here, his modesty about his own importance notwithstanding.

March 16, 2009

Dated Paul, Married Sanford?

Michael Brendan Dougherty's profile of Mark Sanford makes for interesting reading; so do the follow-ups from Reihan (here and here) and Larison. You can imagine a very ideologically interesting Republican primary in which a figure like Sanford came on strong as a more mainstream version of Ron Paul (small-government rigor plus foreign-policy noninterventionism, minus the nutty-uncle factor), while someone like, say, Jon Huntsman ended up representing the party's moderate wing. It could be a Goldwater-Rockefeller race for the new millenium - potentially disastrous for the party, sure, but potentially fruitful as well.

Then again, you could have imagined a very ideologically interesting Republican primary featuring a cast of characters as diverse as Rudy Giuliani, Mike Huckabee, Mitt Romney and John McCain - but instead, they mostly fell over one another trying to play a caricature of Ronald Reagan. The process of running for president isn't kind to ideological outliers (unless they're nothing-to-lose figures like Paul), which is why Mark Sanford, presidential candidate, might turn out to be a lot less interesting than the guy who shows up in Dougherty's profile.

A Crisis of Confidence

These are ugly, ugly numbers no matter how you slice them. But those who slice with outlandish coup scenarios in the back of their minds will note the American military now earns a "great deal" of trust from a larger swathe of the American public than the White House, Congress, the media, and organized religion combined.

March 13, 2009

The Case For Small Government

That was the subject, broadly speaking, of Charles Murray's address at the annual AEI dinner, and like Jonah Goldberg and John Miller I found a lot to like in the speech, but some things to raise an eyebrow at as well. At bottom, I think the argument suffers from a problem that's common to both sides in the debates over the desirability of European-style social democracy - namely, the hope that what's ultimately a philosophical and moral controversy can have a tidy empirical resolution. So long as Murray's speech is making the philosophical case for limited government - that human existence in the shadow of a nanny state doesn't conduce to "Aristotelian happiness," as he puts it, because it strips human beings of the deeper sorts of agency and responsibility that ought to be involved in a life well lived - he's on firm (if obviously arguable) ground. But when he segues into the possibility that the emerging science of human nature will "prove" the limits of welfare-statism, and force liberals to give ground, I think he's indulging in a conservative version of Jon Chait's famous argument that liberals support bigger government because they're rigorous empiricists, whereas conservatives oppose it because they're hidebound dogmatists. In both cases, there's an unwarranted hope that the right facts and figures can settle a debate that ultimately depends on the philosophical assumptions that you bring to it.

I don't want to dismiss the arguments about the practical costs and benefits associated with different styles of welfare states, mind you. I like those arguments, and they matter a great deal. I would just deny that they can come close to settling, in any meaningful sense, the debate over how big the American welfare state should be overall, and whether we should copy Western Europe or disdain it. That's because both the American and the European models of government are successful in purely practical terms, to the extent that purely practical terms exist - which is to say, both models have provided, over an extended period of time, levels of prosperity and stability unparalleled in human history. (Yes, the stresses that Islamic immigration and demographic decline are imposing on Europe are real and serious - but I think it's too soon to say, with Murray and many on the Right, that "the European model can't continue to work much longer," full stop. The end of history may be more resilient than we think!) And as long as this remains the case, where you come out on the debates over whether we should prefer the continent's sturdier safety nets to America's lower unemployment and higher growth rates (or the continent's more equible provision of health care to America's lead in health-care innovation, or what-have-you) will ultimately boil down to values as much as it will to what the numbers say.

How much do you prize equality and ease of life? The more you do, the more you'll favor a European approach to the relationship between state and society. How much do you prize voluntarism, entrepreneurship, and the value of lives oriented around service to one's family, and to God? The more you do, the more you'll find to like in the American arrangement. Where this debate is concerned, I'm proud to stand with Charles Murray - but I don't think that we should labor under the false hope that scientific advances are going to tilt the argument dramatically in our direction.

March 12, 2009

Steele's Stumbles

I think Marc's analysis - both of where Michael Steele has gone wrong, and what he needs to do to right himself - has things just about right. The tragedy of Steele's RNC chairmanship to date is that he's been lousy at precisely the thing he was supposed to be good at - namely, giving the Republican Party a successful public-relations makeover - without demonstrating any obvious aptitude for the things (organization, etc.) that various Republicans worried he wouldn't be successful at. As one of Marc's sources notes, his desire to charm has been his undoing: He's been just as "comfortable with the media," in a sense, as his boosters hoped he would be, but there turns out to be a difference between being "comfortable" talking about the Republican Party on television and being good at it.

If I may overgeneralize a bit (and in a self-serving way) from an extremely small sample size, I think Steele's stumbles, while different in form from Sarah Palin's unsuccessful broadcast-network interviews (he's said too much; she didn't say enough ... and was tongue-tied doing it), reflect a similar underlying difficulty - the attempt to brazen through an intellectual vacuum with charisma alone. Both Steele and Palin are extremely charismatic, as American politicians go, which is a big reason why Republicans of different stripes - moderates for the Marylander, conservatives for the Alaskan - have been so excited about them. But they've both attempted (or been asked) to chart a new direction for the Right on style alone, and they've floundered as soon as they've been pressed for substance. Steele has responded by telling his interlocutors whatever they want to hear, Palin responded by telling her interlocutors next to nothing at all - and the results, in both cases, are and were unfortunate.

The point here, to return to an earlier theme, isn't that a brilliant rat-a-tat-tat of bright policy ideas from either Steele or Palin's lips would suddenly convert an audience of fence-sitting voters to rock-ribbed conservatism. It's that given conservatism's current straits, having something intelligent and fresh-sounding to say about how your political persuasion bears on the great issues of the day ought to be a baseline for rising right-of-center politicians. Insufficient, yes, but necessary all the same - not least because if you haven't figured out something smart-sounding to say in advance, all the charisma in the world won't save you from saying something foolish.

March 10, 2009

Stem Cells and Moral Seriousness

Michael Kinsley, writing in praise of the Obama Administration's inevitable decision to get the government into the business of embryo-killing:

... let's be clear: There is NO "medical ethical quandary" involved in the decade-long dispute over stem cells. There is only the appearance of an ethical quandary, created by people who either don't understand or willfully misrepresent the facts. "Quandary" is a particularly insidious word. Compare it to "controversy." There is undeniably a controversy about stem cells: two sides, disagreeing strongly. But "quandary" suggests that the controversy is legitimate--that a fair-minded person would have to recognize some degree of merit in both sides of the argument, wherever he or she might ultimately come down. In a "quandary," there actually are (dread phrase) "no easy answers."

.... If you wish to believe that every fertilized egg is a human being with full human rights, that is your privilege. I disagree, which makes it a controversy. If I felt you were serious, we would have a quandary as well. But there's no quandary because you're not serious. Your actions are too different from your words. You are doing absolutely nothing about the millions of fertilized eggs that are destroyed naturally every year (in miscarriages so early that the potential mother is not even aware of them), or the thousands that are produced and unused by fertility clinics going about their normal work (which are either discarded or pointlessly frozen in the hope of some miraculous ethical breakthrough).

The anti-abortion forces who have delayed stem-cell research by a decade are not morally serious. If they were, they would be trying to get laws making the work of fertility clinics illegal, not concentrating on the tiny fraction of surplus embryos from those clinics that are going to a worthwhile purpose.
Kinsley has made this argument before, and time has not improved it. Pro-lifers are often damned for being uncompromising zealots; here Kinsley is taking a case where the pro-life movement pretty clearly has gone in for compromise - drawing the line at having their tax dollars used for embryo-killing, rather than trying to get the practice banned outright - and damning them for being morally unserious. Heads he wins, tails we lose, I guess.  As should be clear from other examples, at home and abroad, most pro-lifers would like to heavily regulate fertility clinics, and would support efforts to give every embryo a chance at life. (I will pass over his line about miscarriages, which seems to imply that a "serious" pro-life movement would be trying to pass laws against accidental deaths.) But that's not where the national debate is at the moment, to put it mildly, so instead pro-lifers have done what you're supposed to do in a democracy, which is to meet the general public where they are. This doesn't make them insincere; it makes them sensible. (By Kinsley's screwy logic, a supporter of universal health care in a country where half the country's uninsured and there's no chance of passing single-payer would be "morally unserious" if he concentrated his energy on, say, mandating health care for newborns; after all, what about the millions of people who aren't newborns?)

Also, to the extent that pro-lifers do accept the current fertility-clinic culture as a given, I still think there's a worthwhile moral distinction to be drawn between "pointlessly" freezing the embryos left over from an attempt to have children, and just handing them over to be killed. Yes, a frozen embryo will probably be destroyed eventually, and the pro-life gesture involved in freezing it is probably just an empty gesture. But there's still a difference between a situation in which death is probable and a situation where it's inevitable, and I think it's a mistake to efface that line as completely as Kinsley's argument would have us do.

March 9, 2009

Barack Obama and the New Center-Left

There was a brief period during the Presidential transition when conservatives became - well, excited isn't quite the right word, but certainly encouraged by the names associated with the new administration. From Hillary Clinton and Robert Gates to the Rubinites charged with matters economic, there seemed to be good reason to think that personnel might be policy, and Obama's administration would prove more Clintonite and centrist that most people on the Right had dared to hope.

You don't hear that theme much among conservatives much nowadays. Instead, we're back to the Obama-as-radical chatter that predominated among right-wingers in the waning days of the Presidential election. As with the Ayers-mania of that unhappy period, some of this talk is miles over-the-top - for instance, the absurdist speculation about the President's "Leninist" plans to bring the U.S. economy to its knees, the better to advance the power of Leviathan. But some of it is justified: Obama is proposing the most thoroughgoing transformation of domestic policy offered by any President since Reagan, and possibly since LBJ. Which raises the question - what happened to the cautious Clintonism that Obama's appointments seemed to promise?

One answer is that Charles Krauthammer was right, months ago, when he suggested that Obama is a foreign-policy pragmatist and a domestic-policy transformationist: He "wants experts and veterans," Krauthammer wrote, "to manage and pacify universes in which he has little experience and less personal commitment" (thus the Clintonites in finance and foreign affairs), while he focuses like a laser-beam on health care summits and green-energy programs. Another answer is that Clintonism was always centrist more out of necessity than conviction, and thus the Obama Administration is offering, to some extent at least, the kind of agenda that Clinton would have offered (and did offer, in 1993 and 1994) had Nancy Pelosi, rather than Newt Gingrich, been running Congress in the Nineties.

But there's a third answer as well - which is that the smart center-left, embodied by Larry Summers as much as anyone, has moved steadily leftward over the last ten years, as part of a broader Bush-era rapprochement between the Democratic Party's moderate and liberal factions. On health care, the environment, income inequality and other fronts, figures like Summers are closer to their erstwhile lefty antagonists than they used to be, sharing common ground even when they don't have identical policy preferences. Thus the Obama team can include many of the same people who worked for Bill Clinton in 1998 or so, and still produce a more leftward-tilting policy agenda than the second-term Clinton White House - because the people in question don't have the same priorities they did a decade ago.

Neither, it's worth noting, does the country. American public opinion has moved leftward with the Clintonites, and under the influence of the same trends and events - from the mounting health-care crisis to the post-Clinton return of wage stagnation to the current financial debacle. And this is what's missing from the conservative attacks on Obama's radicalism - a recognition that the political landscape has shifted dramatically since the days when Bill Clinton and Newt Gingrich were struggling over the American center, and that in the absence of a conservatism that's responsive to the changing situation, yesterday's radicalism can start to look a lot like today's common sense.

Abortion Reduction Revisited

Will Saletan has a thoughtful response to my latest critique of his abortion-reduction proposals. You should read the whole thing, but here's the heart of the matter:

I don't have a brilliant program in mind. All I have is process of elimination: If most people in this country, including me, aren't willing to ban abortions (check), and if you can't stop people from having sex (check), and if contraception is the only other way to prevent pregnancy (check), and if providing access to contraception hasn't solved the problem (check), then the remaining factor is human failure to use the contraception. Target that problem. I don't care whether it's through the federal government, states, clinics, schools, churches, or Conan O'Brien. All that matters is sending a forceful message that if you're not prepared to become a parent, you must either avoid vaginal intercourse or use birth control religiously.

If sex-ed programs aren't getting this message across, come up with better sex-ed programs. Or go through churches, doctors, parents, Facebook, Webkinz--whatever. Keep trying until you find something that works.
Given his premises, this seems fair. Ultimately, I think Saletan's project founders on the difficulty of moralizing about something that you aren't willing to regulate in any significant way: Law and culture are intertwined, especially in a rights-conscious society, and if you want to teach people that they ought to use condoms because "unprotected sex can lead to the creation -- and the subsequent killing, through abortion -- of a developing human being," as Saletan's original piece put it, then you need a legal regime that treats the killing of said developing human being as something other than a constitutional right on par with freedom of speech, religion or assembly. But on this much, he and I agree: If you start with the premise that neither American abortion law nor American patterns of sexual behavior can be altered in any significant way, and you want fewer abortions nonetheless, then trying different ways to promote the use of birth control "until you find something that works" is really all you have left. 

March 6, 2009

Going Galt

Speaking of Aynworld, I enjoyed this Will Wilkinson riff:

By the way, Atlas buffs, the point of Atlas Shrugged is not that you are John Galt. The point is that you are not John Galt. The point is that you are, at your best, Eddie Willers. You're smart, hardworking, productive, and true. But you're no creative genius and you take innovation -- John Galt -- for granted. You don't even know who he is! And this eventually leaves you weeping on abandoned train tracks. 

I think Obama's policies will be bad for innovation, but not because higher marginal tax rates will lead our best and brightest to retire from the field of endeavor. I'm rather more worried that our best and brightest will follow the incentives and go Robert Stadler. I'm worried that our money, which might otherwise have gone to capitalize real innovation, will be confiscated in order to finance government directed "investment" instead. Our economy can readily absorb a passel of drop-out Willerses (though Eddie never quits!). It's the misdirected capital embodied by the Stadlers and their Project Xes that really hurts.

A Final Word On Rush

Ruffini writes:

My overall sense is that the Frums and the Douthats of the world would be well served by staying away from this argument. As Ross himself has written, the grassroots needs elites -- and the elites need the grassroots. By trying to isolate Rush, the elites break down this elegant separation and veer into micromanaging the grassroots -- a losing proposition, particularly against a brand as sticky as Rush.
I take the point: I originally only meant to take a mild and passing swipe at Rush's CPAC speech, and I somewhat regret wading in deeper. (Such are the perils of blogging ...) But it's also worth remembering that Limbaugh's critics have ended up having this fight in part because Limbaugh has come after them. Rush was attacking David Frum as a sell-out and a surrender monkey before Frum was attacking him, and the CPAC speech was just the latest blast in Rush's long-running campaign to isolate would-be conservative reformers - a campaign that's seen him go after everyone from Jim Manzi to Newt Gingrich to yours truly.

Now obviously we're all big boys and we can take it, and Ruffini has a good point about discretion being the better part of valor in these kind of debates: Reformist takes on conservatism will survive even if Rush's attacks go unrebutted, and reformers might even win a few more converts if they aren't perceived as locked in a death-struggle with talk radio. But the deeper problem here isn't that a few conservative pointy-heads are getting their egos bruised by Rush's broadsides; it's that conservative politicians seem to be spending an awful lot of time looking over their shoulders these days, worried about what Limbaugh and company have to say about them. (Bobby Jindal's much-panned response to Obama, for instance, could have been ghost-written by Rush, and sure enough, Rush was the only one who liked it.) And this is something that reformers should be worried about: The GOP's leaders desperately need some space in which to experiment a little, on policy and otherwise, and they don't seem to have it at the moment. Maybe criticizing Limbaugh isn't the best way to open up that space - but at the very least you can see where the impulse comes from.

Small-Government Egalitarianism, Revisited

In my original post on Obama and starve-the-beast, I referenced this Yglesias item from a week or so ago - which offered, I think, an illuminating look at the roots of progressive thinking about taxation and income inequality. Drawing on this Lane Kenworthy post from last year, which considered the relationship between taxation, spending, and income inequality in developed countries, Yglesias wrote:

... if you look around the one at what it is countries do to mitigate income inequality, nobody is substantially equalizing things through the tax system, but many countries are substantially equalizing things on the spending side ... Not that progressive taxation is a bad thing, or meaningless in the contribution it makes, but clearly insofar as direct public policy interventions (as opposed to things like wider distribution of educational attainment) are going to reduce inequality, it needs to be done on the spending side. Now this raises the question how do you get the spending side to do more? Is it by "means testing" existing programs and creating new small-bore "targeted" programs aimed at the neediest? Well, not really ...for inequality reduction, it is the quantity of taxes rather than the progressivity of the tax system that matters most. Affluent countries that achieve substantial inequality reduction do so with tax systems that are large but no more progressive than ours.
As readers of Grand New Party know, one of the biggest things that separates my views on domestic policy from what I think it's fair to call the conservative mainstream is a concern about socioeconomic stratification (and, more exactly, its impact on socioeconomic mobility), and a belief that welfare-state spending should provide a safety net and promote upward mobility. What separates my views from progressives like Matt, on the other hand, is a belief that we should be able to pursue this goal without having the government swallow an ever-larger share of GDP. Of course the easiest way to reduce stratification is just to dramatically increase "the quantity of taxes" and let government spending do the rest - but if we're trying to strike a balance between liberty and equality, rather than just shrugging our shoulders and embracing a little more soft despotism and a little less voluntary association, then the idea of a means-tested and targeted welfare state looks like something worth pursuing.

Obviously, this kind of "small-government egalitarianism", to borrow Edward Glaeser's apposite phrase, isn't going to achieve the levels of equality, economic and otherwise, that prevail in small, ethnically-homogeneous social democracies. But that doesn't bother me: I don't want what Denmark has; I just want policies that do a bit more to mitigate what Clive Crook calls  the present "stickiness" of wealth and poverty in America - and I don't think it's implausible to imagine this happening within a welfare state that's no bigger than the one we have now. Look at this chart, for instance, which Matt borrowed from Kenworthy:

taxesandinequality-figure2-version2.png

Yes, inequality reduction tends to go up with government revenue. But the countries are more scattered than the straight line indicates: Look at Australia, for instance, way over there on the left, taking only slightly more in taxes than the U.S. does at present, but doing a lot more than we do to mitigate inequality. (It's probably not a coincidence that Australia has been way out ahead of most of the developed world when it comes to means-testing.) There's no inherent reason, it seems to me, why the United States couldn't hold its position as the lowest-taxed country on the chart, while targeting and means-testing its way up the y-axis a bit. Small-government egalitarianism hasn't been tried and found wanting; it's just seemed too small-government-y for liberals, and a bit too egalitarian-sounding for many conservatives, and thus been left untried.

March 5, 2009

Obama's Traditionalists

I don't have much to add to the interesting interesting discussion about Barack Obama's remarkable gains among traditionalist Catholics; I think all of the theories being floated - from the impact of the Iraq War to the possibility that pro-life Catholics might have been more willing to vote for a pro-choice Protestant like Obama than for a pro-choice Catholic like John Kerry - probably contain some element of truth. As an inveterate Doug Kmiec critic, though, I'd be cautious about overestimating the impact of the "pro-life, pro-Obama" lobby on this shift: Not because the Kmiecs of the world didn't have an impact, necessarily, but because I suspect Steve Waldman is right that their biggest impact came in giving pro-life Catholics "permission" to do something that they wanted to do anyway ... and the reasons that a Catholic traditionalist might have wanted to vote for Obama anyway are probably bigger problems for the anti-abortion movement in the long run than the tissue-thin claim that the Democratic candidate was somehow the real pro-lifer in the race.

Barack Obama, Deficit-Cutter?

Jon Chait takes exception to my suggestion that the Obama budget lays out a kind of starve-the-beast in reverse:

In the most important sense, this is completely wrong. Obama's budget is not a net spender. It would reduce the deficit by some $2 trillion over the next decade (big PDF link; see page 115) compared to continuing current policy. (You can quibble about the "current policy" baseline -- some of the Iraq expenditures would probably have declined under even a Republican administration -- but the basic fact that Obama's policies reduce the deficit on the whole is hard to dispute.) By contrast, all of Bush's major deficit-increasing initiatives -- the tax cuts, the war in Iraq, the Medicare benefit -- came without any attempt at all to pay for them. And, by the way, most of the people who are complaining about Obama's fiscal irresponsibility today uttered not a peep of complaint about Bush.

Ramesh Ponnuru isn't convinced, and neither am I. That deceptive baseline makes all the difference in the world; take it away, and what you have is Obama reducing the deficit from recession-era highs created by TARP and the stimulus package - which are both designed to be temporary anyway - to recovery-era lows that are no lower, as a percentage of GDP, than the deficits Bush ran during his administration's years of economic growth. (This is leaving aside the rosiness of the growth and revenue-collection scenarios underlying the budget's number-crunching, and the fact that it only includes a "down payment" on the still-hypothetical health care reform that Obama wants as the domestic-policy centerpiece of his administration.) Now it's true that some voices within the Obama Administration wanted to run a higher deficit still, and the President apparently sided against them. But that doesn't change the fact that the projected post-recession deficits are in the same range as Bush's pre-recession deficits, if not slightly higher.

But don't listen to me; listen to Jon Chait:

Now, I'll concede that Douthat has a point in spirit. Obama does not get the deficit all the way to where it ought to be. If the economy recovers by 2011, as he projects, and we experience continued growth through 2019, and we're still running the 3.1 percent of GDP deficit he forecasts -- well, that would be a problem. [emphasis mine - RD] It's totally unfair to compare a president who made the problem vastly worse with one who alleviates the problem considerably. But it is interesting to ponder why Obama doesn't go further in the direction of fiscal responsibility.

This isn't a point "in spirit" - it's a point in fact. When the recession is over, and the stimulus spending has finished running through the economy, Barack Obama's budget projects the same level of deficit spending that the United States experienced from 2000 to 2007. The difference is that whereas Bush ran deficits in part as an attempt to establish a lower baseline for tax rates, Obama would run deficits in part as an attempt to establish a higher baseline for government spending. His accounting may more honest than Bush's, as Chait argues in a follow-up post, but that doesn't change the basic reality of what this administration is proposing: Its budgets would use substantial deficit spending to finance an expansion of government, while putting off the tax increases that would be required to pay for it. And I think it's fair to call that "starve the beast" in reverse.

March 4, 2009

The Pursuit of Social Democracy

Barack Obama won the 2008 Presidential election on an agenda that tilted him further leftward than most recent Democratic nominees on nearly every issue. The one big exception was taxes, where he ran to the center, offering what was arguably a larger middle-class tax cut than the Republican candidate, and promising that the only tax increase he contemplated would fall on the richest Americans, and merely return tax rates to the levels of the Clinton years. This maneuver helped win him the election, by blunting the GOP's attempts to paint him as a tax-hiker - but it left him well short of a mandate for the kind of social democracy that many liberals see as their goal. That's because, as commenters across the spectrum agree, you can't fund social democracy just by making the tax code ever more progressive: At some point, you need to raise revenue from the middle class.

What Obama does have, though, is an atmosphere of crisis and a massively-unpopular opposition party, which grants him an unparalleled political opportunity to pass whatever spending the Democratic Party likes, and damn the short-term cost. And what you see in his budgeting proposals, I think, is the liberal equivalent of the conservative attempt to "starve the beast." In both the Reagan and Bush eras, Republicans passed tax cuts and ran up large deficits while hoping that by starving the federal government of revenue they would curb its long-run growth. Obama's spending proposals would effectively reverse that dynamic - they would create new spending commitments and run up large deficits, in the hopes that the dollars poured into health care and education will create a new baseline for government's obligations, which in turn will create the political space for tax increases on the middle class. Like the starve-the-beast approach, the Obama strategy puts off the hard part till tomorrow: Give them tax cuts today, conservatives said, and they'll swallow spending cuts tomorrow; give them universal health care, universal pre-K, subsidies for green industry and all the rest of it today, liberals seem to be thinking, and they'll be willing to pay for it tomorrow.

The fact that starve-the-beast didn't work out as well as small-governmenteers hoped doesn't make the Obama strategy misguided. Both political parties are living in the shadow of the hard choices that are going to be imposed by the insolvency of America's entitlements: At some point soon, liberals are going to have to accept somewhat less spending than they'd like, and conservatives are going to have to accept somewhat higher taxes. And if you can change the baseline of social spending that Americans expect from their government before that day of hard choices arrive - and once created, government programs are awfully hard to get rid of, whether they're actually effective or not - then you've tilted the landscape of negotiation in liberalism's favor, and ensured that a post-Obama entitlement compromise will look a lot more like social democracy than a pre-Obama compromise would have.

But of course none of this will work if the American economy doesn't escape its current downward spiral. If you're running enormous deficits and don't have any economic growth to show for it, it doesn't matter how popular your social-spending programs are in the short run, as more than a few ex-Latin American leaders will be happy to attest. And what does make the Obama strategy misguided is that it looks increasingly like a substitute for a depression-fighting strategy - and what's worse, a substitute that has the potential to actually make matters worse, when Obama, liberalism, and America all desperately need things to get better.  

March 3, 2009

Does Rush Matter?

Jay Cost, responding this column from Reihan among other things, doesn't think any of the sturm und drang over Limbaugh makes a difference:

When appealing to a political audience as broad as the voting public, you are confronting a large majority of voters who pay relatively little attention and are essentially non-ideological in their political orientation. That means the idea of converting somebody from "liberalism" to "conservatism" as a precursor to getting his vote is simply not going to yield many votes. If it did, this is what candidates - who have the greatest interest in winning votes - would try to do. Instead, they speak in sound bytes and they have Stevie Wonder or Hank Williams, Jr. open their political rallies.

But it's precisely because symbolism matters as much or more than substance that the amount of attention Rush Limbaugh is grabbing at the moment is bad for the GOP. Yes, elections aren't won by having a bunch of clever conservative intellectuals go around writing columns and giving speeches that convert people from liberalism to conservatism. And they aren't won, usually, by clever policy proposals either. But they are won, quite frequently, by politicians and parties that present themselves as the sort of people who seem to be interested in clever policy proposals, and who seem as well like they might be able to convert you to their way of thinking (and be interested in hearing about yours) if they had a few hours to talk to you about the matter. And the success of Barack Obama - his ability to woo non-ideological and politically underinformed voters - flowed and flows in part from his ability to project just these qualities, even as he pushes a substantive agenda that's left-liberal to the core.

Rush Limbaugh, on the other hand, projects a different set of qualities, and comes freighted with a different set of associations. Rich Lowry, while disagreeing with the thrust of Limbaugh's critique of would-be conservative reformers, says he finds "the attacks on Rush from the right mostly stupid, cringe-inducing, and wrong," citing as a prime example this David Frum post, which references Limbaugh's weight, history of drug problems, and various other personal foibles while drawing a contrast between a liberalism embodied by Obama and a conservatism embodied by El Rushbo. Now maybe Frum's decision to get personal is cringe-inducing, his overall point is neither wrong nor stupid: To a non-ideological voter who's uninterested in policy and forms his perceptions of liberalism and conservatism largely through symbolism and sound bites, a conflict between Obama on the one hand and Limbaugh on the other will almost inevitably redound to liberalism's benefit.

This doesn't mean that the Limbaugh v. Obama dynamic that Rush and the Democrats are mutually laboring to cultivate is going to be decisive in future elections and debates. I certainly wouldn't disagree with Cost's point that "elections are fought over the state of the union and the country's opinion on how the majority party has managed the government," and that parties and politicians mainly get to tinker at the margins. But a lot of action happens there nonetheless - and the fact that it isn't going to determine the outcome of the 2012 election doesn't change the fact that the Limbaugh-related action over the last couple of weeks has been bad for conservatism's image, and its political prospects as well.

March 2, 2009

Rush and Oprah

Hugh Hewitt writes that Limbaugh's speech at CPAC "will be talked about for years and even decades." I hope he's wrong about that, but he's definitely right about this:

A week ago a reporter from a major American newspaper called me to talk about Rush.  I agreed to do the interview provided it was recorded and that I could air it after the story the reporter was working on ran.  The reporter asked me if Rush was a "leader," and I said no.  He is, I continued, a communicator, a pundit and an entertainer, one of the two best in the country --along with Oprah.  And a man of extraordinary influence.  I think the Rush-Oprah comparison startled the reporter, but it is exactly correct.  They have the same reach, and though they have almost completely different approaches to life, both are deeply sincere about their views and thus far beyond merely "effective."  Both communicators change lives.
Not only do I think this is true, I've actually said it myself! (Though Reihan said it first.) But if you accept the parallel with Oprah, then you also need to recognize that if American liberals treated someone like Ms. Winfrey the way the adoring CPAC-goers treated Rush - not just as a great communicator and entertainer, but as an arbiter of what their movement is and ought to be, and what their party should be standing for - they'd look like starstruck fools. And rightly so.

So I'm glad to hear Hewitt say that he thinks of Limbaugh as "communicator, a pundit and an entertainer," rather than a "leader." But I wish that more conservatives understood the distinction.

The Limbaugh Speech

My reaction to the thing is too predictable to be worth going over, but if you're interested in the state of American conservatism I'd certainly advise you to read it - or better, to watch it, assuming you have an hour you can block off for the task. Andrew Breitbart, in a fawning tribute, calls it "an address that could have altered the election had it been delivered early last fall by any Republican presidential candidate." And on that, at least, we can agree.

February 27, 2009

Layer Cake

I liked Patrick Ruffini's attack on the Right's Joe the Plumber Wurzelbacher (enough with the nonsense, right?) fixation. But I also liked Daniel Larison's critique of Ruffini's post. And that's because it's useful to think of the problems facing the American Right in terms of layers of misapprehension.

The first layer is pure denialism - the kind of denial that Rush Limbaugh is practicing when he reads anyone who didn't like Bobby Jindal's speech out of his version of conservatism; the kind of denial that insists the Joe the Plumber gambit was a roaring success and that only snobs would have any problem with Sarah Palin's interview prowess; the kind of denial that boos Tucker Carlson for allowing that the New York Times has good reporters; the kind of denial that thinks the GOP can climb back to power on a tower of tea partys and cracks about volcano monitoring. And every attack on this sort of folly is to be welcomed.

But not every attack goes far enough. And I think Larison is right to see in Ruffini's post an essential faith that if you got rid of all the gimmicks and the nonsense and had sober-minded, eloquent people selling the current Republican message on the merits, the GOP would be "the natural governing party" of these United States. This is the second layer of right-wing misapprehension, which recognizes that conservatism has an image deficit and a seriousness deficit, but doesn't go far enough in allowing that it has a substance deficit as well.

The Right has a messaging problem, yes - but it also has a message problem. It could be America's natural governing party, sure - but as long as its economic agenda looks like Jim DeMint's alternative stimulus, full stop, nothing else to see here, it won't be. Republicans are in deep trouble because the economic meltdown was piled on top of George W. Bush's personal unpopularity - but they would be in some kind of trouble no matter what, because the right-wing message on domestic policy hasn't been resonating with "the people in the middle culturally and economically," who Ruffini rightly identifies as the backbone of any plausible conservative majority, for going on years and years now. The current crisis hasn't created the problem; it's taken an existing problem and throw it into sharp relief.

Recognizing that this problem exists is only the beginning of the argument, obviously. Once you allow that conservatism needs a renovated agenda, it's possible to feud endlessly about what that agenda ought to be. But even getting to that feud, and leaving the layers of misapprehension about conservatism's current prospects behind, would be a worthwhile achievement for the Right.

February 26, 2009

If Obama Fails ...

... and the Republicans are still floundering, what happens? Yglesias says the GOP comes back anyway:

[A] hard-right agenda ... certainly isn't where the country is right now but it's not so unreasonable to think that things might change. I think we'll be growing again in late 2012 and Obama will probably get re-elected no matter Republicans say or do. But it's possible that things will really go off the rails and we'll have a years-long L-shaped recession in which case if what the opposition party has to offer is hard-right nihilism, then hard-right nihilism is what the voters will embrace.
Will Wilkinson says don't bet on it:

... Obama seems to be very boldly arguing: "If not my specific package of policies, then surely disaster!" I think this can be a bit perilous but in this case probably smart since the Republicans are so hapless. If Republicans can sabotage the thrust of the Democrats' policies -- refuse funding for your state, call for a spending freeze -- and the recovery occurs anyway, then Obama's bold conditional is decisively falsified. But voters aren't logicians, and if we get a recovery, Obama's going to get the credit anyway. So that tack seems like a loser for the Republicans even in the best case. (And in the worst case -- everything goes further south and they get pinned with the blame -- totally disastrous.) The only plausible Republican strategy is to put forward an attractive personality able to forcefully and intelligently explain in a relatively detailed way why the Dem's plans are likely to fail, and to forcefully and intelligently articulate a plan likely to work better. That's the only way to sow broad doubt in the wisdom of the majority's leadership: offer an alternative that looks at least as or more credible. David Cameron is a great example of how to do this incredibly well. But as Jindal's embarrassing performance shows, the GOP has absolutely no one capable of doing anything approaching this. So, as far as I can tell, the GOP is going to continue to get flattened, Obama will get basically whatever he wants, and if it doesn't work, then it almost worked and who else are you going to trust?
It's worth bearing in mind that there's a third option. When Jim Fallows anticipated a different (though not entirely different) economic calamity in his big "Countdown to a Meltdown" essay for us several years ago, he framed the whole thing as a strategy memo to a soon-to-be-elected third party candidate, who was on the verge of triumphing after two consecutive failed post-Bush administrations, one Democratic and one Republican. This is obviously an unlikely scenario - but there's nothing written in stone that says the current two-party lock on the presidency has to endure unbroken forever, and a long L-shaped recession in which both parties look ineffectual is exactly the kind of time when unlikely scenarios start looking at least somewhat more likely. Ross Perot's 1992 candidacy, you'll recall, was premised on the idea that the GOP had failed and the Democrats couldn't be trusted; if Obama's presiding over an economic disaster in 2012, then a third-party run premised on the idea that the Democrats have failed and the Republicans can't be trusted might do rather well indeed.

At the very least, I bet Ron Paul could get 5 or 10 percent of the vote running as an Independent in that landscape ...

February 25, 2009

The Tent Shrinks

At this rate, pretty soon it'll just be Rush and his microphone.

Abortion, Contraception and the States

To Reihan's objections (and those of some readers), I should say that I didn't mean to oversimplify the state-by-state picture on abortion, which is inevitably rather complex. (For instance, it's no doubt true that some of the extremely low abortion rate in Utah and Idaho is explained away by the extremely high abortion rate next door in Nevada, and obviously different dynamics are at work in states with low abortion rates and high out-of-wedlock birth rates, like Louisiana and Mississippi, and states with low abortion rates and lower-than-average out-of-wedlock birth rates, like Utah or Iowa.) All I'm saying is that it's hard to find support for the following propositions, which Will Saletan regularly advances - that a concerted governmental push to expand the use of birth control is the best way to dramatically reduce the number of abortions, and that the intransigence of religious conservatives on this question is keeping the abortion rate artificially inflated. At the very least, the picture is a whole lot murkier than that - and if you really want to prioritize abortion reduction, I think there's considerably more evidence to support a supply-side approach (i.e., making them harder to get) than the demand-side approach that Saletan and others champion.

I should add that I don't expect or want American social policy to reflect the Catholic Church's teaching on contraception, I don't have a problem with our public health services providing access to birth control (if the money in question isn't filtered through Planned Parenthood, that is), and I agree with Reihan that social conservatives shouldn't reject programs like the one in question out of hand. But I also think that an awful lot of the policies liberals like to champion in this area - expanded public-school sex ed programs chief among them - don't deliver anything remotely like the benefits they promise. And I'm extremely wary of defining "common ground" on abortion in terms that essentially require the pro-life movement to give up the store in the legal debate, in exchange for at best marginal returns where the abortion rate is concerned.

The Convention Speech That Wasn't

Larison's take on Jindal's tone-deaf address seems spot-on to me.

The Other Jindal

From Michael Gerson's (pre-speech) column on Bobby Jindal:

At a recent meeting of conservative activists, Jindal had little to say about his traditional social views or compelling personal story. Instead, he uncorked a fluent, substantive rush of policy proposals and achievements, covering workforce development, biodiesel refineries, quality assurance centers, digital media, Medicare parts C and D, and state waivers to the CMS (whatever that is).

Some have compared Jindal to Obama, but the new president has always been more attracted to platitudes than to policy. Rush Limbaugh has anointed Jindal "the next Ronald Reagan." But Reagan enjoyed painting on a large ideological canvas. In person, Jindal's manner more closely resembles another recent president: Bill Clinton. Like Clinton (a fellow Rhodes scholar), Jindal has the ability to overwhelm any topic with facts and thoughtful arguments -- displaying a mastery of detail that encourages confidence. Both speak of complex policy issues with the world-changing intensity of a late-night dorm room discussion.
It's great that he can give a speech like that to conservative activists. Seriously. But it would be even better if he had given a speech like that - a speech that suggests that Republicans are capable of actually running government, as well as running against it - to the American people last night. Instead, we got this:

Their legislation ... includes $300 million to buy new cars for the government, $8 billion for high-speed rail projects, such as a 'magnetic levitation' line from Las Vegas to Disneyland, and $140 million for something called 'volcano monitoring.' Instead of monitoring volcanoes, what Congress should be monitoring is the eruption of spending in Washington, DC.
Ch-ching! And hey, it worked for McCain, right? 

Snap Judgments

Obama was fantastic - worlds better than his inaugural. He laid out the most ambitious and expensive domestic agenda of any Democratic President since LBJ, and did it so smoothly that you'd think he was just selling an incremental center-left pragmatism. I think that he has an acute sense - more acute than most people in Washington, probably - of just how much running room is open in front of him at the moment, and he intends to make the absolute most of it. Burkean temperament or no, this was not a Burkean speech by any stretch: It was the speech of a man seeking to turn a moment of crisis into a domestic-policy revolution, and oozing confidence from every pore along the way. Now all he has to do is find a way to pay for it ...
 
And Jindal - yeah, he was just as lousy as everybody's saying. As far as themes and messaging went, he basically chose option A on Ambinder's list - government isn't the solution; pork is the problem; etc. - and embedded it in a weak, sing-song delivery that I suspect left even the people who respond favorably to that message cold. Sure, responding to a Presidential speech is almost always a thankless, hopeless job - but shouldn't someone as smart as Jindal have recognized that, and either turned the opportunity down flat, or found a way to sound like something other than a kindergarten teacher delivering familiar GOP talking points? In the event, his speech was the capstone on a lousy night for conservatism: If that's the best the Right has to offer as a rebuttal to Obama, American liberalism is going to be running untouched down the field for years to come.

February 24, 2009

Re-Running McCain

Like I said, I'm trying to be patient with the Obama-era GOP: It's a leaderless party in an awfully tough spot. But that doesn't mean that Fairbanks, Yglesias, and Weigel aren't making good points about the weirdness of a battered political party deciding to re-run the none-too-successful tactics of its just-defeated Presidential candidate.

How Do You Solve a Problem Like Abortion?

I admire the persistence with which Will Saletan argues for common ground in the abortion debate, and attempts to sell his fellow liberals on the notion that reducing the abortion rate belongs in the Democratic Party's agenda. But I remain unconvinced that his preferred method for such reductions - a dramatic new push, whether political or cultural, to expand the use of contraception in the United States - would produce anything like the results that he envisions.

Consider, for instance, the idea that the government should dramatically expand eligibility for free contraception through Medicaid, a notion that conservatives objected to when it was tacked onto the stimulus package, and which Saletan links to as part of his latest proposed framework for an Obama abortion agenda. Here's Adam Thomas and Isabel Sawhill, both serious folks and proponents of the proposal, on the potential impact of such an initiative:

A recent Brookings Institution policy brief concluded that, in states that have already been granted income-eligibility waivers, this policy led to a significant reduction in the number of sexually-active women who have unprotected sex. We have incorporated this finding into a cutting-edge simulation model of family formation. Our results suggest that a similar expansion in contraceptive services in the remaining states would reduce the annual number of children born out of wedlock by more than 25,000, would reduce the number of pregnancies to unmarried teenagers each year by 19,000, and would reduce the annual number of abortions to unmarried women by nearly 12,000.
That sounds enormously impressive - until you consider that as of 2004, there were 2.8 million pregnancies among unmarried women in the United States, and roughly 1 million abortions. Which means that the universalization of this program, according to its supporters, might reduce the national abortion rate by somewhere between 1 and 2 percent. That's not nothing, obviously, but it's not a whole lot either - and in a country of millions upon millions, where countless trends shift the number of pregnancies and abortions around from year to year, it's perilously close to statistical noise. When you consider that there's good reason to think that Roe v. Wade raised the abortion rate by well over 50 percent, I think you can see why most opponents of abortion look at a "more birth control" strategy as a cop-out, rather than a cure.

But don't listen to me; listen to Will Saletan, in his recent Times op-ed on the same subject:

Eight years ago, the Alan Guttmacher Institute surveyed over 10,000 American women who had abortions. Nearly half said they hadn't used birth control in the month they conceived. When asked why not, 8 percent cited financial problems, and 2 percent said they didn't know where to get it. By comparison, 28 percent said they had thought they wouldn't get pregnant, 26 percent said they hadn't expected to have sex and 23 percent said they had never thought about using birth control, had never gotten around to it or had stopped using it. Ten percent said their partners had objected to it. Three percent said they had thought it would make sex less fun.

This isn't a shortage of pills or condoms. [emphasis mine - RD] It's a shortage of cultural and personal responsibility. It's a failure to teach, understand, admit or care that unprotected sex can lead to the creation -- and the subsequent killing, through abortion -- of a developing human being.

Well, yeah. But from this admirable premise, Saletan circles back, inevitably, to blaming conservatives yet again - not for supporting policies that cause a shortage of contraceptives, this time, but for cultural messaging that discourages people from using them. Pro-lifers need to recognize that "a culture of life requires an ethic of contraception," he writes. "Birth control isn't a sin or an offense against life, as so many girls and Catholic couples have been taught. It's a loving, conscientious way to prevent the conception of a child you can't bear to raise and don't want to abort."

This makes it sound like the long shadow of Humanae Vitae and the malign influence of the Quiverfull movement are a big part of America's abortion problem. But if religious-conservative objections to contraceptive use were actually a big part of the cultural background to our abortion and out-of-wedlock birth rate, you'd expect to see some actual evidence of it. For one thing, you'd expect evidence that the Catholic Church's position on birth control has a significant impact on American Catholic sexual behavior, let alone on sexual behavior in the society at large. But the vast majority of Catholics are already on board with Saletan's premises. Around 80 percent think the Church should change its teaching on contraception. 88 percent of Catholic doctors prescribe it. As many as 95 percent of married Catholics use it. And I'm pretty sure that the 5-10 percent of Catholics who do obey the Church's teaching aren't having all that many abortions.

Moreover, if Saletan's diagnosis were correct, you'd also expect the pockets of America most influenced by religious conservatism to provide object lessons in the folly of trying to build a culture of life without a culture of contraception. But look at American abortion rates by state: The states with the lowest abortion rates are places like the Dakotas, Utah, Kentucky, West Virginia, Kansas, and Mississippi; the states with the most are places like California, Connecticut, New York, Illinois, and Massachusetts. There are liberal states with low abortion rates (your Maines and Minnesotas), and right-tilting states with higher ones, but by and large the most religiously-conservative states seem to be doing a pretty good job on that whole culture of life business already, despite their failure to recognize the moral imperative of welcoming Planned Parenthood with open arms.

As I said, I applaud Saletan's search for common ground, and I recognize that the distance between his idea of compromise and mine reflects deep philosophical differences than no data set can bridge. But I also think it also reflects faulty empirical premises about what causes high abortion rates (and what produces lower ones), and I wish he'd reassess them.

February 19, 2009

Liberaltarianism, One More Time

Will Wilkinson was taken with this Mark Thompson post, and so was I - albeit for somewhat different reasons. The undercurrent in my frets about a future in which libertarians are absorbed into contemporary American liberalism, as you can probably tell, is my sense that there are real affinities between my own probably half-baked vision for conservative renewal and what the liberaltarians say they're up to; I see them as sparring partners on many issues, obviously, but as potential allies on many others.

So for instance, when Thompson writes that "by treating any and all social safety nets as irreversible steps on the Road to Serfdom, we allow liberals and progressives to shape those policies in ways that are inefficient, ineffective, and overbroad - even though Adam Smith, Hayek himself, and Friedman each advocated for a form of social safety net, demonstrating that social safety nets can be consistent with libertarianism," I think, this is exactly the way that conservatives more generally should be thinking about the welfare state. It's true that Grand New Party was written, in part, as a critique of a certain kind of "libertarianism" - the kind that sees Rudy Giuliani's "tax cuts plus nothing" primary campaign as a model for Republicans, for instance - and obviously the book partakes of a moralism that many libertarians find distasteful. But on a lot of fronts, our analysis was informed by what we (and especially Reihan, as you might expect) saw as the smartest libertarian thinking on policy issues. It isn't a coincidence that Reihan and I and Will Wilkinson all supported a payroll-tax cut as an alternative to the stimulus package, for instance: A smart right-populism and a smart libertarianism have a lot of disagreements, but a lot to talk about as well. And the whole idea of a libertarianism that engages with the welfare state as it actually exists, and seeks revolutions within the form that enhance liberty and opportunity, is roughly what I want to see from the American center-right at the moment - which makes me loath to see people who have ideas along similar lines fleeing into the center-left.

This doesn't mean that there aren't good reasons to flee! But I think that the liberaltarians shouldn't get too carried away by their sudden rediscovery of deep philosophical affinities between libertarians and left-liberalism. These affinities of course exist, but they exist in part because America is a liberal country, where almost everybody has philosophical affinities with everybody else. In a later post, Thompson argues that the Right might benefit from losing its libertarian component because "a conservatism that lacked libertarianism would be able to form around a more ideologically coherent set of beliefs akin to traditional conservatism ...  I can't think of a more appropriate counterweight to [the liberal worldview] than a political coalition formed around the idea of social, economic, and political stability, and a deep-seated sentiment for tradition." I respect the people trying to build a conservatism along these lines, but I just don't think it's possible in the American context: The appeal of dynamism, to borrow from Virginia Postrel, is too pervasive to admit of an effective political coalition organized in opposition to it. Which means that a Right that lost its smartest dynamists wouldn't suddenly be taken over by the Daniel Larisons and Patrick Deneens of the world. It would still be a pro-growth coalition - Rush Limbaugh is nothing if not a liberal in that sense - it would just be a much, much dumber one.

Yes, there's a best-case scenario in which the dumbening of the American Right works out fine for libertarians, because the infusion of "liberaltarianism" suddenly makes the left-of-center much smarter and more freedom-friendly about issues of economic policy. But I think the more likely scenario is that the liberaltarians vanish into the center-left without much of a ripple, leaving a right-wing rump to battle eternally with a fat, lazy, none-too-libertarian left-liberalism. And in fact, that worst-case scenario already exists: It's called the state of California.

February 18, 2009

How Shame Works

I hope to come back to my conversation with Ta-Nehisi about marriage and all the rest of it soon, but for now I'll just throw out a quick take on the back-and-forth about shame that the discussion has spawned. Here's Adam Serwer:

Conservatives regularly overestimate the beneficial effects of shame. Shame provokes response in the form of impulse, not long term planning. A person who is ashamed isn't going to think, "I'd better get a degree" or "I'd better get married," they're going to think in the short term about what they can do to rectify their sense of self-worth.

How do you see people--men in particular--act when they're ashamed? You rarely see them do something like get married or get a fantastic job; usually they're going to hurt or exploit someone, make them feel as low as they do--this is the lesson learned by the shamed from the shamer, regardless of the lesson the shamer thinks they're teaching the shamed.

I think this overgeneralizes somewhat: The responses to shame are as variable as the human race itself, and the fact that shaming sometimes sets off a self-destructive spiral doesn't mean that in other cases it can't spur repentance, and an amended life. And I think that Megan's response gets at an essential point, which is that shame is useful as a deterrent even when it fails as a corrective. Having your mother kick you out of the house if you get pregnant out of wedlock probably isn't going to improve your life chances, but the fear that your mother might kick you out stands a good chance of deterring you from making a bad decision in the first place. The fact that shame provokes an impulsive response is a feature, not a bug, when you're trying to deter bad behavior that is itself impulsive.

But obviously the destructive cycle Serwer's describing does exist: When people make bad choices, a culture of shame and stigma can make their lot in life worse, not better. Rod Dreher and Peggy Noonan, whose comments on the subject Serwer cites, both make the point that you can strike a balance: "Stigmatize having sex and having babies outside of marriage," as Rod puts it, "while at the same time loving and trying to help those who have babies outside of marriage." This is true in theory, and sometimes true in practice ... but human beings what they are, social stigmas are usually effective precisely because they create suffering, and exclusion, and cautionary tales. Therefore it's not quite right to say, as Rod does, that lifting the stigma on unwed childbearing involved "false compassion." The compassion involved was and is real, and so are its beneficiaries. Many lives really were improved as American society became more tolerant of unwed motherhood - just as many lives were improved when divorce became easier to obtain, and bad marriages easier to walk away from, and so on.

But many other lives were not. And so the battle between social conservatism and social liberalism at the moment isn't a battle between competing utopias, but a battle over which tragic choice is worse: The choice to stigmatize, which can damage and even ruin lives, or the choice to destigmatize, which can damage and ruin countless lives as well. It's a hard enough call that I can safely say I would have sided with the social liberals in a different time and place. But we've come a long way down their road, and I think we know enough about the consequences to say that there would be real gains to human welfare available - for downscale Americans, especially, but not only for them - if we were to go some distance in a more conservative direction.

Whether that's possible, of course, is another question entirely. But that doesn't mean it isn't worth the trying.

February 16, 2009

Is The GOP Hopeless?

David Frum, pulling no punches:

Have you heard about the marsh mouse? The little swamp critter that got $30 million of stimulus bill spending thanks to Nancy Pelosi? Of course you have! The mouse was highlighted on Drudge and chortled over by Glenn Beck. One Republican congressman actually dandled a toy mouse in debate.

The story's not false exactly. The stimulus money really does contain money for wetlands restoration. One of the wetlands that might benefit really is located on San Francisco Bay. And the marsh mouse really does live there.

... The problem with the story is not that it was false. The problem with the story is that it was stupid.

The US economy has plunged into severe recession ... President Obama and the Democrats have responded by steering the US radically to the left ...And facing all this - we're talking about mice?

Could we possibly act more inadequate to the challenge? More futile? More brain dead?

We in fact have a constructive solution to offer, one that would deliver more jobs faster: the payroll tax holiday, an idea endorsed by almost every reputable right-of-center economist. But that's not the solution being offered by Republicans in Congress. They are offering a clapped-out package of 1980s-vintage solutions, including capital gains tax cuts. Capital gains! Who has any capital gains to be taxed in the first place?

I spent a lot of time during the election just past issuing complaints roughly like this one about the McCain campaign, and the GOP more generally. I've issued fewer over the last few weeks - partially out of exhaustion with the topic, and partially out of a sense that there's nobody to issue them to. At least during the 2008 election the party had a titular leader, from whose campaign a constructive new direction for conservatism might plausibly originate - even if the campaign in question seemed to have little interest in pursuing any such new direction. Whereas today's Republican Party has no leaders at all, if you define leaders as politicians with the credibility and power to chart a new course for the party, as opposed to having it charted for them by the GOP's most vocal constituents and most ideological backbenchers. John McCain was mistrusted by the base, but he at least had run, and won, a national primary campaign, and thus could claim some sort of a mandate to lead the party. Whereas the GOP's leaders in Washington, your Mitch McConnells and John Boehners, owe their power entirely to backroom politics: Nobody loves them, nobody trusts them, and as a result they're in no position to execute the kind of pivots that the party needs to make. One can reasonably expect them to do better than they've done to date when it comes to articulating an actual alternative to Obamanomics - i.e. more Larry Lindsey, less Jim DeMint - but one can't expect them to do much better. They simply don't have enough room to maneuver.

As I see it, there are a few ways to imagine the GOP acquiring the kind of innovative leadership it desperately needs. In one model, somebody who's already in the party's D.C. leadership builds up enough credibility with the conservative base - by successfully derailing some key Obama initiatives, for instance - to promote a new policy agenda without being dismissed as a sellout. The Grand New Party-reading Eric Cantor would be an obvious candidate for this role, and so might Michael Steele, if the GOP has a good midterm election cycle. Both men seem like forward-thinking politicians who are trapped, at the moment, by the need to say the things (and only those things) that the party's base wants to hear; both might become something more impressive if they get some victories under their belts.

But that's a big if - which is why the more likely road to revival for the GOP probably starts outside Washington, with politicians who can afford to be experimental without constantly worrying about what Rush Limbaugh would say about them. This is one of the ways reform happened in the Democratic Party of the '70s and '80s: You had a collection of distinctive and innovative political figures - your "Atari Democrats," your neoliberals, your "New Democrats" - who were testing out new ways of being liberal in statewide races long before their ideas were embraced by the party nationally. (Some of them still haven't been, of course, as Mickey Kaus will be happy to inform you.) What the Republican Party needs, above all, is a generation of politicians who can fill the "center-right" space currently occupied by time-servers like Arlen Specter and Susan Collins with a politics that's oriented around policy, rather than process. It needs a reform caucus that's actually interested in reform (as opposed to deal-cutting), and that's populated with politicians who have tried something new in difficult political terrains, and proven that it might work.

If such a caucus doesn't emerge in Washington, though, then the party has to hope it emerges in the statehouses - and that one such statehouse occupant has what it takes to win the party's nomination, the Presidency, and singlehandedly turn the GOP away from it's self-defeating, self-destructive habits along the way. This is both the easiest way for the party to acquire the leadership it needs, and the hardest: It's the easiest because it only requires the emergence of one great politician, rather than the slow cultivation of a generation of them; and it's the hardest because it depends on the skills and vision of a single reform-minded leader, rather than a pooled efforts of like-minded cohort. Some of the failures of the Bush Administration, it's worth noting, reflect precisely the latter set of dangers: You had a President trying, fitfully but with some sincerity, to create a new kind of conservatism (compassionate, big-government, whatever) without the kind of institutional and intellectual support that his project required. And it's easy to imagine the next Republican President - whether it's Jindal in 2016 or whomever - running into the same sort of problems, and running aground on them as well.
 
But those risks would be preferable to what seems to me like the worst-case scenario for a Republican revival, in which the party regains power without having developed any new leadership at all - as the beneficiary of a disastrous "Obama economy," but without any ideas for how to handle the situation save the same "clapped-out package of 1980s-vintage solutions," as Frum puts it, that too many Republicans are content to offer now. Which is why my watchword for now is patience: The only way conservatism is really going to come back is gradually, and the best thing for right-of-center thinkers to do is to call out bad ideas and promote good ones, and wait for politicians with the wit and courage to give some of the best ideas that bubble up a trying-out. This may not happen at all: The Republican Party could remain dysfunctional for years. But I'm trying not to get too discouraged if it doesn't happen in the first few months of Barack Obama's Washington.

February 13, 2009

Authoritarianism Just Around the Corner

It's possible you've also already been following the debate prompted by Damon Linker's attack on Andrew Bacevich's vision of conservatism; if not, go here and here and here; here for Linker's response to his critics; and here and here for more. I would just throw in two points. First, I think that Linker's determined quest to defend his vision of liberalism against all enemies, and to rout theocratic authoritarianism from the field once and for all, is reaching a point of seriously diminishing returns. It always struck me that the small coterie of intellectuals surrounding First Things were exceedingly unlikely candidates for the role Linker cast them in - a near-existential threat to the liberal order, etc. - but at least he was overhyping people who had some claim to political influence. In his latest jeremiad against the illiberal menace, on the other hand, he's moved on to targeting "paleoconservatives" like Daniel Larison, Patrick Deneen and Rod Dreher, all of whom are notable not only for being marginal to American politics as its currently practiced, but for liking it that way.

Which brings me to my second point. At the heart of Linker's critique of the theocons, supposedly, wasn't their religious and cultural conservatism per se but their decision to marry religious conservatism to a particular political faction, and to attempt to impose their beliefs on their fellow Americans by legal fiat. So you would think that he would have a high appreciation for the Drehers and Deneens of the world, who conceive of their religious conservatism as a cultural project first and a political project a distant second, if at all ... who have been just as fierce as Linker, if not fiercer, in their attacks on the contemporary Republican Party, the contemporary conservative movement, and the presidency of George W. Bush ... and whose central critique of American culture, that it could stand to inculcate more self-discipline and self-restrain in its citizenry, is looking reasonably compelling at the moment. But no: He wants to rout them from the field as well, attacking even an apolitical cultural conservatism for embodying "the suicide of the critical intellect" (a phrase that seems like a remarkably lousy fit for the group of wildly heterodox, combative and contrarian writers in question), meeting an appeal for greater private virtue with a defense of the virtues of fornication, and insisting that the "Benedict option" in any form is the royal road to Marcel Maciel-esque corruption. Which goes to the suspicion that cultural conservatives always have about the liberal order: That it claims to create a political framework that's studiously neutral between competing modes of thought and life, but when push comes to shove it wants to impose liberalism all the way down.

The Future of Liberaltarianism

You've probably been following this conversation, but here's Will Wilkinson's response to Jonah Goldberg and John Hood on the question of what happens to the Wilkinson/Brink Lindsey theory of "liberaltarianism" in the age of Obama:

I'll let Brink speak for himself, but I'm not that interested in short-term partisan politics. I'm interested in a much longer-term project. I want to help create the possibility of a popular political identity that takes the value of human liberty, in all its aspects, really seriously. As I see it, this project involves an attempt to reunify the separate strands of the American liberal tradition. I'm not sure what it is about that project that would that lead Jonah to think Brink or I should be vexed by the behavior of the Democratic Party and it's operatives...

I think ... the romance of transformative hope is going to wear off pretty quick as all-but-uncontested Democratic policy deepens and lengthens the recession. There's a lot of culturally and psychologically liberal people out there who are, and are going to be, interested in a liberalism that actually works. I want to use this time of ferment to work on developing the missing option in American politics: an authentically liberal governing philosophy that understands that limited government, free markets, a culture of tolerance, and a sound social safety net are the best means to better lives.

So "whatever happened to liberaltarianism" is that it's an ongoing project to change who talks to whom, to freshen the stale dialectic of American politics, and to create new possibilities for American political identity.

This is consonant with what Will's written before on the subject, and as a fan of long-term, slightly quixotic political projects I wish him well. That being said, to become a viable form of political identity, as opposed to a theoretical one, liberaltarianism would need some actual liberals to jump on board the Rawlsekian train. It doesn't have to happen immediately, but it needs to happen at some point - and in that regard, the leftward trajectory of American liberalism at the moment ought to be at least somewhat discouraging to Wilkinson and Co. Yes, maybe when the Obama Administration fails to deliver the eschaton, there will be renewed interest on the American center-left in a libertarian-infused "liberalism that works." But sometimes statist failures only breed more statism. And just as I often fret that my hopes for a right-of-center majority lie somewhere back in the wreckage of the Bush years, I think the liberaltarians ought to worry, just a little, that their moment actually arrived in the Clinton years, and that it's already behind them - somewhere back in the vast obscurity of the political past, where the dark fields of the republic roll on under the night.

February 12, 2009

Greg Mankiw and the Republican Party

A couple of days ago, Yglesias dinged Greg Mankiw for suggesting elegant right-of-center alternatives to the stimulus package that are untethered from political reality. Mankiw responded with a defense of impractical ideas, and yesterday Yglesias responded in turn:

I think it's great for well-informed people to write about abstract policy ideals. At the same time, if you're going to comment on public affairs, it seems worthwhile to comment on what's actually happening. There are, right now, four ideas that have substantial support in congress. There's the House stimulus bill, the Senate stimulus bill, the Jim DeMint alternative that consists of large permanent tax cuts, and there's the idea of doing nothing.

... Based on what his ideal policy would be, it seems to me that Mankiw probably, like me, prefers the Democratic bills to doing nothing and prefers nothing to the DeMint plan. But Mankiw hasn't come out and said that. Instead, he's blogged about his ideal bill and linked-without-comment to lots and lots of stimulus opponents. And I haven't seen him offer any commentary or links on the main Republican alternative. One interpretation is that this is Mankiw being loyal to the abstract purity of the economics discipline. But it's unlikely that anyone so committed to the abstract purity of the discipline that he wouldn't offer an opinion on legislative options would have served as Chairman of the CEA. More plausibly, as a former CEA Chair who hopes to work again in Republican Party politics, Mankiw is hesitant to offer an honest opinion of the congressional GOP's legislation or the relative merits of their ideas and the congressional Democrats' ideas.
Jon Chait calls this a "fairly devastating critique." I'm not so sure, because I'm not so sure it's fair to call the DeMint plan the "main Republican alternative" to the stimulus. It's the alternative that liberals like to highlight, because it's the most ideologically-rigid and fiscally irresponsible, but you could just as easily call John McCain's proposal the main Republican alternative: It attracted more Republican votes than DeMint's, and its lower price tag, shorter-term horizons, and payroll-tax component puts it closer to Mankiw's ideal stimulus, I think, than either the House bill, the Senate bill, or the "doing nothing" option. (And there have been some other Republican amendments proposed as well, a few of which Mankiw might support - though none are as comprehensive as McCain's proposal, or DeMint's.)

That being said, the DeMint proposal did attract thirty-six Republican votes, and it does reflect where a large portion of the American Right stands at the moment - i.e., appropriately firm in their opposition to the Democratic agenda, but disconnected from both fiscal and political reality in their proposed alternatives. Republican office-holders need to thread a needle where this landscape is concerned, but conservative intellectuals have an obligation to be forthright about it: I understand Mankiw's reluctance to muck around in the realm of the politically-feasible, but the Republican Party and the country alike would be better off if he and others like him didn't just propose good right-of-center ideas, but called out bad ones.

February 10, 2009

The Grabbing Hand

This strikes me as a rather odd argument from Michael Kinsley. He notes that as of 2004, the typical American couple aged 65-74 had accumulated a net worth of $691,000. He further notes that many of these couples will die well before they've spent their way through their nest egg, "passing hundreds of thousands of dollars on to the next generation in their wills." Then he points out that at least some of the money these well-heeled retirees pass on to the heirs will come, not from their own savings, but from Social Security and Medicare - which "are supposed to be insurance against the perils of old age," rather than "gifts or subsidies to the children of retirees." Which leads him to this conclusion:

... if our elderly woman dies with $691,000 in the bank, it's evident that she didn't need the government money to pay for her health care or to avoid plunging into poverty. She wasn't lying or cheating--she might have been legitimately worried--but her worries turned out to be unnecessary. And society, having kept its promise to her, should get at least part of that money back. Oh, yes, designing a system to achieve this would be a nightmare--maybe impossible. The incentive for old folks to squander their savings would be enormous. Maybe it can't work. But the point is worth keeping in mind as we enter President Obama's "new age" of "hard choices."
Maybe I'm missing something, but isn't Kinsley's premise just an argument for the well-worn but nonetheless-correct idea that we ought to keep entitlements solvent by means-testing them? And if that's so, why in God's name would you possibly want to devise some sort of cumbersome system in which "society" (i.e. the government) reclaims unspent Social Security checks after a retiree shuffles off this mortal coil, when you could just cut smaller checks to well-off retirees in the first place? With means-testing, people would pay Social Security taxes, and then be paid benefits proportionate to their ability to support themselves in old age. With Kinsley's system, people would pay Social Security taxes, be paid benefits once they retire, and then have those benefits reclaimed, somehow, after they die, to be re-spent on other worthy causes. In other words, the government would take your money, give it back to you, and then take it back again, this time permanently, if you don't spend it before you die. Which approach sounds more efficient and reasonable to you?

I understand that means-testing is anathema to many liberals, who want to keep the "middle class" in middle-class entitlement, lest public support for the system erode.  (And not, of course, because they have an ideological bias toward bigger government - perish the thought!) But Kinsley isn't one of them: He even argued for means-testing in the midst of great liberal freakout over Bush's Social Security reform package. So why would he trade an idea that makes all kinds of sense for an idea that's at once cockamamie and unworkable? It can't just be for the sake of having something new to say about the issue, can it?

February 9, 2009

The Trouble With Centrism

The liberals are angry, and not without reason. You can imagine a world in which "centrist" Senators used their awesome deal-making powers to forge compromises that incorporate ideas from the left and right alike. A world in which moderate "gangs," in David Brooks' formulation, actually put meat on the bones of Barack Obama's promise to end politics as usual. A world in which Susan Collins, Ben Nelson, Arlen Specter and Joe Lieberman emerged as ardent champions of, say, a stimulus approach divided evenly between billions in Keynesian spending and billions for the sort of payroll tax proposal that people like Larry Lindsey and Greg Mankiw have been championing - or some similarly wonky, high-concept policy compromise. A world of bipartisanship and postpartisanship and everything in between.

But that's not the world we live in. In this world, centrist Senators exist to take politics as usual - whether it's tax cuts in Republican eras, or spending splurges in Democratic ones - and make it ever so slightly more fiscally responsible. So if the GOP wants, say, $500 billion in tax cuts, the country clearly needs $400 billion in tax cuts - but not a penny more! And if the Democrats want $900 billion in stimulus, then the best possible policy outcome must be ... $800 billion in stimulus! To read this Arlen Specter op-ed, justifying both the stimulus package and the cuts the "gang of moderates" have attempted to impose, is to encounter a mind incapable of thinking about policy in any terms save these: Take what the party in power wants, subtract as much money as you can without infuriating them, vote yes, and declare victory.

Now fiscal responsibility is generally a good thing, and so a centrism mindlessly focused on tweaking legislation away from deficit spending has its uses. But what Nelson, Collins, Specter and Co. have done isn't a new kind of politics. It's the definition of politics as usual. And in this particular case, there's a reasonable argument that it's actively pernicious - that if you can't shrink the stimulus package much more substantially than the centrists have done, you shouldn't shrink it at all. There's a case to be made for a stimulus that's radically different than the one we have now; there's a case to be made for a stimulus that's like the one we have now, but a great deal smaller and more targeted; and there's a case to be made for a stimulus that's absolutely gargantuan. But thanks to the centrists, we're getting the cheapskate version of the gargantuan version: They've done absolutely nothing to widen the terms of debate about what should go into the bill, and they've shaved off just enough money to reduce its effectiveness if Paul Krugman is right - but not nearly enough to make it fiscally prudent if the stimulus skeptics are right. 

This means that if the damn thing doesn't work, we won't even know whom to blame. But it wouldn't be crazy to start by blaming the centrists.

February 6, 2009

Liberals, Ideology, and Big Government

Several years ago, in a piece that's long since vanished into The New Republic's world-devouring archives, Jon Chait suggested that liberalism was, by its very nature, more pragmatic and less ideological than conservatism. (As you may remember, this contention was not met with universal agreement from thinkers to his right.) The nub of his argument ran as follows:

We're accustomed to thinking of liberalism and conservatism as parallel ideologies, with conservatives preferring less government and liberals preferring more. The equivalency breaks down, though, when you consider that liberals never claim that increasing the size of government is an end in itself. Liberals only support larger government if they have some reason to believe that it will lead to material improvement in people's lives. Conservatives also want material improvement in people's lives, of course, but proving that their policies can produce such an outcome is a luxury, not a necessity.

The contrast between economic liberalism and economic conservatism, then, ultimately lies not only in different values or preferences but in different epistemologies. Liberalism is a more deeply pragmatic governing philosophy--more open to change, more receptive to empiricism, and ultimately better at producing policies that improve the human condition--than conservatism.
The piece concluded with a bold prediction, which seems worth re-examining now that the Democrats are actually running the government:

Bush's administration gives primacy to political advisers over policy wonks in large part because they have no need to debate their ends, only the means of achieving them ... The next liberal administration, whenever it happens, will not be nearly so certain. Aside from rolling back conservative excesses, its economic agenda will take its cue from external events, and the decisions it arrives at could, in time, be cast aside through experimentation. Ultimately, those policies, whether they move left or right, will be measured against their effect on people's lives, not the degree to which they bring the government closer to some long-ago agreed-upon vision. In time, those policies will be altered yet again to suit a changing world. This is known as progress.
We're only two weeks into the new age of liberalism, but so far, Chait's been utterly vindicated, don't you think? Indeed, the above paragraph strikes me as a near-perfect distillation of the process that has produced the current stimulus package: A clear-eyed, cool-headed, non-ideological pragmatism, untouched by any pre-existing wish lists or biases. 

I'm being sarcastic, obviously. Yet of course there are many, many smart liberals - from Paul Krugman to, well, Barack Obama - who would say that Chait has been vindicated, because whatever its faults the stimulus bill is ultimately non-ideological: Shoveling vast amounts of money out the door is simply what you do in circumstances like these if you want to avoid utter economic calamity. The money-shovelers are empiricists, in other words, and their opponents are know-nothings.

But this is one of the many, many cases where the Chait thesis breaks down, because of course the empirical conclusions that undergird the pell-mell rush to spend as much money as possible are eminently contestable, and the contest tends to break down along, well, ideological lines.So smart liberals are more likely to find the Keynesian model persuasive (and crack jokes about the need for "Keynesian reeducation camps" to get the voting public on board), smart libertarians and conservatives are more likely to raise doubts about its track record - and the question of which comes first, the ideology or the empirical analysis, is essentially unanswerable. Some people are Keynesians because they find the case for stimulus persuasive, presumably; some people find the evidence for Keynesianism persuasive because they're liberals, and thus predisposed to support government spending in general; and many people fall somewhere in between. And the same goes on the other side: I like to think that I'm interested in evidence-based policymaking, but I'm sure that I wouldn't find Tyler Cowen and Greg Mankiw's stimulus skepticism half so persuasive if I weren't already predisposed to tilt against trillion-dollar boosts to big government. In either case, where you place the burden of proof - about the stimulus, or about any government intervention to come - depends on the philosophical premises you start with.

This is not to say that there aren't degrees of ideology and degrees of pragmatism, or that some thinkers and some politicians aren't more empirical than others. And it's certainly possible to imagine - and hope for, from this administration - a liberalism that's more pragmatic and evidence-based than was George W. Bush's conservatism. But the debates that have dominated the first two weeks of the Obama Presidency ought to be an object lesson in why ideological preconceptions always matter, no matter how empirically-minded you aspire to be.

February 4, 2009

Autopsying Conservatism

I apologize for throwing up nothing but links today, but I think that between John O'Sullivan, Russell Arben Fox, Yuval Levin, Damon Linker, and Conor Friedersdorf, you can get a pretty good sense of the strengths and weaknesses of Sam Tanenhaus's big "end of conservatism" essay in the latest TNR without my chiming in.

February 1, 2009

The Shadow of the Stimulus

Freddie DeBoer, disagreeing with my take on Yglesias's "what's wrong with filling the stimulus bill with non-stimulative liberal goodies?" argument:

To me, the central point of Matt's post isn't that deficits don't matter in a time of financial crisis and liquidity traps; the point is that, when Republicans aren't going to play ball no matter what, why not cram a bill full of things Democrats want? By refusing to vote for the stimulus package en masse, the Republicans have cut themselves out of the game. If some number of them would get on board, given the many large concessions that Democrats have made in hopes of enticing them, then they'd have something to bargain with. But by signalling that they were uninterested in compromise, they became an obstacle to work around or run over. If that's going to be the case either way, why not work to help the liberal cause?
Just to be clear, I don't think the Democrats need to be cautious about what they put into the stimulus in order to get Republican votes for it; I think they need to be cautious because when you embark on an enormously expensive gamble, you want to be sure that it's the gamble you really, really want to take. Given the choice, I'm pretty sure that most smart liberals would rather have a big-ticket health care reform - which is likewise a big political risk - than have the bill the House just passed. It's quite possible they'll be able to get both. But it's possible they won't - and the bigger (and more non-stimulative) the stimulus gets, the bigger a liability it will become for the Democrats if it isn't perceived as a success, and the more it will stand in the way, potentially, of the deeper reforms that liberals are hoping to attempt.

Chris Caldwell's analogy between the bill and the Iraq War is somewhat overstated, but I think he has the dynamic essentially correct:

The stimulus will be expensive, more expensive than the Iraq and Afghanistan wars combined and Nancy Pelosi, Senate majority leader, has called it a mere "down payment". The stimulus bill, whether it succeeds or fails, could be the Democrats' Iraq. Like Iraq, it is a long-standing partisan project that is being marketed as an ad hoc response to a national emergency. It reflects the pre-existing wishes of the party's most powerful interest groups more than the pre-existing wishes of the country. Democrats are now liable to be judged by the standard they created when they abandoned the Bush administration over the Iraq war: you break it, you own it.
As Caldwell suggests, the crucial issue here isn't how many Republican votes the stimulus package gets; the Iraq War got plenty of Democratic votes, and that didn't prevent it from becoming an albatross circling the Bush Administration's second term. The issue is the risk the Democrats are taking, period, by spending enormous sums that aren't obviously justified by the current crisis, at the start of an administration in which they're hoping to push through enormous structural reforms as well. Those reforms have something like a mandate, since Barack Obama campaigned, and won, on promises to fix the nation's health care system and reform the energy sector. But he didn't campaign promising to spend massively on existing government programs - and the more massive the forthcoming burst of spending gets, the bigger the risk that it will end up swallowing the broader ambitions of this administration's first four years. This doesn't mean liberals are wrong to take the stimulus money and run with it, but they should at least be clear-eyed about the political risks involved.

January 30, 2009

Deficits Don't Matter?

Here's Yglesias, responding to the complaints from conservatives (and some Democrats) that the stimulus bill is being larded up with spending on possibly-worthy but non-stimulative programs:

... a lot of this stuff whether or not it really "belongs in the stimulus" seems irrelevant to me. If you have a program that actually is worthy, then funding it will make the country better, whether or not it truly "belongs" in the stimulus. If you have a program that's worthy, and that doesn't really belong in the stimulus, and you have a Republican who doesn't think the program is worthy, and he'd be willing to vote for the stimulus if you stripped that program from the bill, then it seems to me that you have a decent case for dropping a worthy program. But if you're Ben Nelson and you think the program is worthy, then why not just support the worthy program? It's true that doing so doesn't fit a perfectly pristine notion of how the legislative process should work, but anytime the process is working in favor of worthy programs rather than crappy ones, that's a lot better than the normal functioning of the legislative process.
Well, sure. This is the basic liberal calculus at the moment: The stimulus bill is thick with non-stimulative spending increases because it's a chance to, well, pass spending increases that Democrats think are worthy. Which is fair enough; they did, after all, thump the GOP two election cycles in a row. But surely even the most deficit-happy liberal ought to worry a little about how all of this is going to be paid for - and by extension, whether a spending binge on existing programs today will make it harder to pass, say, an expensive overhaul of the health care system tomorrow. At some point, barring an economic miracle, the GOP will be able to get at least some traction by playing Ross Perot and arguing against out-of-control spending. Maybe the whole liberal wish list will be passed into law before that happens: As Yglesias says in a subsequent post, it's possible that at a time like this there's no "fixed sum of political capital" for liberals to spend down, and so the thing to do is go for broke, quite literally, instead of trying to prioritize health care reform over Pell Grants, or climate change legislation over Head Start. But there's also a chance that the Democrats will look back on the stimulus bill as an instance where they gained ground in the short run, but at the expense of their longer-term ambitions.

In Defense of Mitch McConnell

Well, sort of. As you might expect, I agree with a lot of Ambinder's caustic remarks about the Minority Leader's recent "whither Republicanism" speech. But McConnell, like all GOP leaders, is in an awfully difficult spot at the moment: He's heading up a party that desperately needs a new direction, but whose most loyal and vocal members want nothing to do with anything that smacks of compromise or centrism. In those circumstances, the thing for Republicans in Washington to do is to talk an awful lot about how conservative principles don't need to change (and they don't, broadly speaking), while eagerly embracing new policy options whenever possible. And here McConnell deserves at least a modicum of credit for coming out in favor of the best of the alternative stimulus plans floating around on the right-of-center - namely, some sort of payroll tax cut, which is precisely the sort of small-government populist, Sam's Club-meets-Cato idea that the GOP ought to be embracing, instead of resisting.

The key for Republicans, as Yuval notes today, is to offer not only opposition to Obamanomics but alternatives as well - but those alternatives needs to sound like something other than the Bush agenda redux, or else there's no point in offering them. And on that front, McConnell's doing a better job that some of his colleagues.

January 29, 2009

Perspective

From Brad DeLong, part of The Week's impressive new virtual op-ed page:

The current recession may turn into a small depression, and may push global living standards down by five percent for one or two or (we hope not) five years, but that does not erase the gulf between those of us in the globe's middle and upper classes and all human existence prior to the Industrial Revolution. We have reached the frontier of mass material comfort--where we have enough food that we are not painfully hungry, enough clothing that we are not shiveringly cold, enough shelter that we are not distressingly wet, even enough entertainment that we are not bored. We--at least those lucky enough to be in the global middle and upper classes who still cluster around the North Atlantic--have lots and lots of stuff. Our machines and factories have given us the power to get more and more stuff by getting more and more stuff--a self-perpetuating cycle of consumption.

Our goods are not only plentiful but cheap. I am a book addict. Yet even I am fighting hard to spend as great a share of my income on books as Adam Smith did in his day. Back on March 9, 1776 Adam Smith's Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations went on sale for the price of 1.8 pounds sterling at a time when the median family made perhaps 30 pounds a year. That one book (admittedly a big book and an expensive one) cost six percent of the median family's annual income. In the United States today, median family income is $50,000 a year and Smith's Wealth of Nations costs $7.95 at Amazon (in the Bantam Classics edition). The 18th Century British family could buy 17 copies of the Wealth of Nations out of its annual income. The American family in 2009 can buy 6,000 copies: a multiplication factor of 350.

Books are not an exceptional category. Today, buttermilk-fried petrale sole with pickled vegetables and parsley mayonnaise, served at Chez Panisse Café, costs the same share of a day-laborer's earnings as the raw ingredients for two big bowls of oatmeal did in the 18th Century. Then there are all the commodities we consume that were essentially priceless in the past. If in 1786 you had wanted to listen to Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro in your house, you probably had to be the Holy Roman Emperor, Archduke of Austria, with a theater in your house--the Palace of Laxenberg. Today, the DVD costs $17.99 at amazon.com. (The multiplication factor for enjoying The Marriage of Figaro in your home is effectively infinite for those not named Josef von Habsburg.)
All true. But the kicker matters, too:

Keynes thought that by today we would have reached a realm of plenty where "We shall once more value ends above means and prefer the good to the useful. We shall honour those who can teach us how to pluck the hour and the day virtuously and well, the delightful people who are capable of taking direct enjoyment in things, the lilies of the field who toil not, neither do they spin."

But no dice. I look around, and all I can say is: not yet, not for a long time to come, and perhaps never ... There is a point at which we say "enough!" to more oat porridge. But all evidence suggests Keynes was wrong: We are simply not built to ever say "enough!" to stuff in general.
That we'll never be satisfied with what we have probably goes without saying. But the most pressing issue, it seems to me, is whether we've reached - or will reach - a point at which all our abundance cushions us against the political consequences of suddenly-diminished expectations. In 1932 or so, the West's porridge-eating past wasn't nearly as far in the rearview mirror as it is today, but a Brad DeLong of the Great Depression could still have marshaled all sorts of statistics to prove that even amid economic crisis, your average Westerner was in vastly better shape than his pre-industrial forefathers. Yet that underlying reality didn't save Europe from a decade in which democratic capitalism was thought to be discredited, and the whole edifice of modern civilization was very nearly torn apart.

Hopefully the world - not only DeLong's North Atlantic cluster, but the developing powers as well - has grown rich enough and stable enough that something like that simply couldn't happen again, no matter how hard the fall and how deep the depression. Hopefully.

January 28, 2009

Ending or Winning?

There's a lot to agree with in Peter Beinart's piece about Obama's quest to "end" the culture wars - particularly his point that as far as style and symbolism goes, a black liberal may be better-positioned than a white liberal to build the kind of bridges between the secular left and the religious middle that an enduring Democratic majority requires. (In a somewhat similar vein, I suspect the GOP's quest to build a bridge between the religious right and the religious middle would have been better served had George W. Bush been a Catholic rather than an Evangelical - though that's an argument for another day.)

But Beinart's argument is shot through with the characteristic liberal conceit that the culture wars are a one-sided affair, in which right-wing culture warriors start fights and peace-loving liberals try to avoid them. In reality, what makes Obama promising to liberals isn't his potential to "end" culture-war battles - it's his potential ability to win them, by dressing up the policies that Planned Parenthood or the Human Rights Campaign or the ACLU or whomever would like to see in the kind of religiose language and fuzzy talk about consensus that swing voters like to hear. So waiting a day to reverse the ban on overseas funding for groups that provide abortions, for instance, isn't a compromise in the culture wars, or an act of moderation - it's a way of making a victory for the left seem like an act of moderation to people who aren't that invested in the issue. And the same will doubtless hold true when the stem-cell debate comes around, or the next Supreme Court vacancy, or any flashpoint you can think of: Liberals will praise Obama for taking steps to defuse the culture war, but what they'll mean is that he's taking steps to win it.

January 27, 2009

The Case For A Torture Commission, Cont.

"Enhanced interrogation" yielded crucial intelligence that saved lives, says former Bush speechwriter Marc Thiessen. No, says the Post's Dan Froomkin, it didn't. Yes, says Thiessen, it did.

Obviously, this debate will never be completely resolved. But neither will it disappear: If it does go away temporarily, you can bet that it will come roaring back eventually, in this administration or in one to come. And I, for one, wouldn't mind getting a lot more information out on the table now - for the next round of debate, if not for this one.

January 26, 2009

Means and Ends

Drawing Che Guevera into the earlier conversation about Irish terrorists, Arab terrorists and counterfactuals, Larison writes:

Lincoln, Wilson and FDR-each of them was responsible for far more deaths and far more destruction than Che Guevara or any of a number of Arab nationalist figures ever was, but two important things separate them in the eyes of the general public: they did not personally kill anyone, and the causes for which their armies killed and destroyed are widely considered to be the just and right ones. That is to say, the exact same moralizing, or rather anti-moralizing, that the ends justify the means that Che used in rationalizing revolutionary violence is employed to praise and sanctify approved figures who authorized much larger slaughters for the "right reasons." [emphasis mine - RD] Not only have sympathetic, shoulder-shrugging, anti-moralizing stories been told about these men, but we have built large physical monuments to them (or at least to two of the three mentioned above), which is rather more troubling in its way than silly people who wear T-shirts or directors who minimize the moral failings of their main characters.
But of course in just-war theory, the ends often do legitimize the means, in some sense at least. Not all means, of course: Some forms of violence are intrinsically immoral, whatever the ends in question. But to employ criteria like "proportionality" and "right intention" in judging a war's justness is to recognize that the morality of a given military campaign depends (among other things) on the objectives it seeks to accomplish, and the context in which it takes place. The consensus surrounding the moral legitimacy of Lincoln and FDR's warmaking flows, in part at least, from precisely this issue of intentions. So does most contemporary criticism of Che Guevera and the Cuban Revolution, which tends to focus on the tyranny that Che and Castro ended up establishing in the revolution's wake, not the moral legitimacy of the revolt itself. And so, for that matter, does the debate about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, in which each side is judged, not unreasonably, on their ultimate intentions. Do the Palestinians want sovereignty and self-determination, or do they want to see Israel destroyed? Do the Israelis seek security and a recognition of their nation's right to exist as a Jewish state, or are they still invested in the dream of a Greater Israel? These are not the only questions to keep in mind when assessing the justice of each side's military operations, but they are real and important questions nonetheless.

Of course there's a slippery slope involved whenever you judge means in light of ends, and it's certainly the case that Americans, like most peoples, are too quick to absolve our leaders for wars entered unwisely and prosecuted immorally so long as they seem to work out "in the long run." But the American memory isn't just shaped by a mix of jingoism and consequentialism: The Lincoln-FDR consensus may be mistaken (as Larison obviously believes it to be), but the fact remains that it's driven, at least in part, by a real attempt to make moral distinctions about the conflicts that we've fought, rather than just a rank chauvinism in which our wars are always justified and other people's wars aren't. There's a reason that Lincoln has an enormous memorial and, say, James K. Polk does not; there's a reason that the Washington Mall has a Museum of the American Indian rather than a monument to Philip Sheridan's Plains campaigns; there's a reason that the Spanish-American War and the First World War don't enjoy the kind of "good war" reputations that accrue to the Civil War and World War II; there's a reason that the Korean War is remembered as a more heroic affair than Vietnam, and that our Filipino counterinsurgency isn't remembered at all. The American reckoning with the moral questions that surround our wars is incomplete at best, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist - or that the attempt to distinguish good wars from bad ones on the basis of the ends that we sought isn't a legitimate way to go about making moral judgments.

January 22, 2009

Small-Government Egalitarianism?

Speaking of week-old blog posts, here's a provocative argument from Edward Glaeser - one that foreshadows, I suspect, some interesting intra-conservative debates to come.

Roe Turns Thirty-Six

This has been making the rounds already, but it's hard to come up with a better way to mark the occasion:

January 21, 2009

The Lefty Press in the Age of Obama

In my recent bloggingheads session with Yglesias, I talked a lot about the perils awaiting the progressive mediasphere in an age of liberal dominance - perils with which the conservative mediasphere became, alas, intimately familiar with in the age of Bush. And I meant to link to this post from Ezra Klein, written in the wake of Obama's big dinners with pundits of the right and left, as an example of what I had in mind:

... the important thing Obama could do for the "liberal" media is not have dinner with them. That's good for egos but meaningless for influence. It is, however, well within Obama's power to increase the influence of progressive outlets. Covering the presidency is the central concern of political reportage. And an outlet's ability to cover the presidency can be affected by the favor of the President. If The American Prospect and TPM Cafe and Huffington Post and others of our ilk were given the occasional interview with Obama, and fed useful scoops, that would rapidly increase our readership, our importance in the broader media ecosystem, and the likelihood that members of our outlets would go on to hold key positions in more mainstream institutions. To give just one example, if was understood that Mark Schmitt had more contacts with the Obama crew than Howard Fineman, the Sunday shows would be more likely to turn to Schmitt for analysis. In the long-run, that would be good for both Obama and for progressivism. And he wouldn't even have to waste time watching me chew my dinner.
Now obviously if I worked for The American Prospect or HuffPo I'd be thinking exactly along these lines: It would be absurd for a ideologically-motivated publication to turn down a shot at political influence to preserve its sense of purity. (And I'm all for Mark Schmitt on Meet the Press - or better, as a permanent replacement for David Gergen.) But it's still worth noting that this is roughly how the Bush Administration treated the conservative media - rolling out scoops to partisan outlets, wooing right-wing media types with Presidential face-time, bypassing mainstream outlets in favor of talk radio and Fox News, and so forth. And in the long run, it was good for neither the Bushies nor for conservatism. 

The Pro-Cheney Case For A Torture Commission

As Daniel Larison notes, the one place where Obama explicitly invoked "false choices" in yesterday's speech was his Bush-rebuking reference to "the choice between our safety and our ideals." This comes a week after Evan Thomas and Stuart Taylor attracted a great deal of attention (much of it unfavorable) for a Newsweek cover story arguing that Obama may end up following in Dick Cheney's footsteps on at least some hot-button national security issues - and a week, as well, after Cheney himself told Jim Lehrer that if the Obama Administration doesn't continue "the interrogation program for high-value detainees ... they will, in fact, put the nation at risk." And it comes amid a great deal of intra-liberal debate about how Obama should deal with the outgoing administration's record on detainee treatment: With prosecutions for torture and war crimes? With some sort of "truth and reconcialition" investigative commission? Or - the most likely answer, and the most in keeping with previous American history - by simply doing nothing at all?

One would hardly expect Dick Cheney to endorse his own prosecution. But I think there's a reasonable case that given what I take to be his own premises about the torture debate - that the acts of interrogative violence the administration employed were justified by the stakes involved and the intelligence they produced - the outgoing Vice President should support an investigative commission charged with assessing the consequences of the Bush Administration's detainee policy. Time and again, Cheney has insisted that any gains the U.S. has made in its efforts against Al Qaeda have depended on information from "high-value" detainees like Khalid Sheikh Muhammad or Abu Zubaydah that could only be extracted through extreme measures. But so far, the evidence marshaled to support his contention has been distinctly limited - and most of the insider-ish testimony on the subject, usually filtered through the work of the administration's critics, has tended to support the argument that torture is both morally wrong and largely ineffective. This is a high-stakes debate, to put it mildly. And if Cheney (or any of the many conservatives who share his perspective) believes what says he believes - if he thinks the future security of the United States depends on a willingness to take a consequentialist approach to, say, the waterboarding of leading terrorists - then he ought to be willing to advance a public and detailed case, before an independent commission, that the consequences were and are worth the moral costs.

Obviously the words "public and detailed case" and "Dick Cheney" don't exactly go hand in hand. Obviously the notion that the American Presidency needs to operate secretly in many of these matters is central to the now ex-veep's political worldview. "A lot of the details are still obviously classified," he said, when pressed by Jim Lehrer to describe exactly what sort of information we gained from the "high-value" interrogations, and it's clear that he expects to be offering that answer for many years to come. But at the moment, it also seems clear that by avoiding a deep and detailed public engagement with the argument over torture, he's ensuring that his side will lose it. And based on his own accounting of the stakes involved, he ought to be willing - nay, eager - to compromise his beliefs about what information from the Bush years can and should be made public in the short term in order to win the political argument about whether the administration's policies should be continued.

For many anti-torture voices, of course, it's taken as a given that Cheney doesn't really believe what he says he believes - or at the very least, that on some level he knows that a full and fair airing of the intelligence the Bush Administration gathered from "enhanced interrogation" would not end up vindicating the policy. All of the principled talk about executive power and presidential privilege, in this view of things, is ultimately just a defense mechanism that allows Cheney - and by extension, the country - to avoid coming to grips with the depths of his wrongdoing. Maybe that's so. But I know at least some people in Washington for whom this isn't the case: People who argue, with a reasonable degree of knowledge and no self-justifying incentives, that whatever one thinks about the morality of waterboarding, the Bush Administration's interrogation policies up made a substantial difference in our ability to disrupt al Qaeda in the aftermath of 9/11.

Nothing that's been made public to date has left me convinced that they're right. (And even if they are right, it probably wouldn't change my judgment that the Bush Administration's broader record on detainee policy looks like a moral fiasco.)  But I'm entirely convinced that they're sincere - and I think that any sincere proponent of what the United States did to its high-value detainees should be willing to see those policies defended more fully and publicly than they've been to date. Put another way, anyone who thinks that Dick Cheney will be at least somewhat vindicated by history ought to want him vindicated now, when the vindication would actually make a difference in the policy of the United States government. And an independent commission, charged with assessment, rather than indictment, seems like as reasonable a place as any to start.

January 20, 2009

A Little Carter, A Little Reagan

The speech, I thought, was a sometimes-dissonant, sometimes-successful attempt to marry expansiveness and sobriety. The language of realism was woven throughout - "our collective failure to make hard choices ... the time has come to set aside childish things ...the challenges we face ... will not be met easily or in a short span of time" - and there was, as Maggie Gallagher put it, an "old-school Protestant" element to much of Obama's rhetoric, from the calls to duty and responsibility, to the promise to marry "hope and virtue," to the praise for the work ethic and criticisms of " those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame." But time and again, Obama pivoted from this theme to the sort of begin-the-world-anew rhetoric that we've come to expect from all our presidents, liberal and conservative alike - promising that hard choices are really false choices, that pragmatism can overcome partisanship, that there's no technological hurdle that Science can't leap, and that all those nameless "cynics" who worry about hubris, overreach and decline don't understand that in the brave new age of Obama, their pessimistic instincts "no longer apply." His description of our straits was sometimes Carteresque, in other words - but his prognosis tilted, inevitably, toward a liberal version of Morning in America.

Which theme is remembered depends on what the future holds, and how Obama governs: It wasn't a speech brilliant enough to write its own page in the history books, a la Kennedy's first inaugural, and so it will be assessed by future generations through the eyes of hindsight, once this presidency has a record against which his opening statement can be judged. For now, it's enough to say that no Presidency in my lifetime has begun with so much promise and peril intermingled, and that every God-fearing American should make it their business to keep Barack Obama in their prayers - today, and for many days to come.

Quote For the Day

Lift every voice and sing
Till earth and heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise
High as the listening skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us,
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun
Let us march on till victory is won.

Stony the road we trod,
Bitter the chastening rod,
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat,
Have not our weary feet
Come to the place for which our fathers sighed?
We have come over a way that with tears have been watered,
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,
Out from the gloomy past,
Till now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.

God of our weary years,
God of our silent tears,
Thou who has brought us thus far on the way;
Thou who has by Thy might
Led us into the light,
Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, Our God, where we met Thee;
Lest, our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee;
Shadowed beneath Thy hand,
May we forever stand.
True to our God,
True to our native land

- James Weldon Johnson, "The Negro National Anthem," 1900

January 19, 2009

Achieving Our Country

I'll watching the Inauguration of Barack Obama tomorrow the way a good American should: At home, over some sort of brunch, in front of a flat-screen TV. But as a good Washingtonian, I figured I should attend at least one of the weekend's events, so I hiked down to the Lincoln Memorial concert on Sunday, and spent a few hours shivering in the cold just beyond the World War II memorial (that was as close as we could get), watching as various Obama propaganda films gave way to Bono, the Boss, and Beyonce on the Jumbo-tron. I don't know if it was the "least lame president-elect-sanctioned musical event in history"- probably! - but it was disappointingly lame even so, at least from where we stood: Only Garth Brooks (and to a lesser extent Pete Seeger, who closed things out - and set left-wing hearts aflutter - by leading the crowd in a rendition of "This Land Is Your Land"), out of the star-studded roster of performers, seemed to understand that the thing to do when you have hundreds of thousands of freezing spectators is to ham it way, way up, and to confine yourself to songs that make them want to ... shout! Though to be fair, any energy a given performer managed to generate dissipated awfully quickly anyway, thanks to the interminable between-song readings from past Presidents, and past inaugurals, delivered for the most part by second-tier movie stars who really don't have any business quoting Lincoln or Roosevelt. I mean, Denzel Washington and Tom Hanks, fair enough - but did I really need to shiver through a civics lecture from the likes of Jack Black, Ashley Judd and Kal Penn?

So that's the jaundiced, slightly frostbitten view of the proceedings. The kinder thing to say is that this was an impressive celebration of left-wing patriotism, the sort of thing this country hasn't seen on such a scale in years or even decades. In an essay for Time last year, Peter Beinart observed, with some accuracy, that "conservatives tend to see patriotism as an inheritance from a glorious past," while "liberals often see it as the promise of a future that redeems the past." The inaugural concert was all about the latter sort: The patriotism of Seeger and Springsteen; of white Hollywood and the black church; of Gene Robinson and the Gay Men's Chorus; and of course the Pope of liberal Christianity himself. (Even Reagan was co-opted to the achieving-our-country theme: They found the most liberal-friendly line in his first inaugural - "how can we love our country and not love our countrymen, and loving them, reach out a hand when they fall, heal them when they are sick, and provide opportunities to make them self-sufficient so they will be equal in fact and not just in theory?" - and quoted it amid similar phrases from FDR and JFK, MLK and Lincoln.) I won't say that it was exactly my kind of celebration, but it was the kind of celebration that liberal America has waited an awfully long time to experience. And I would be an ungrateful graduate of many a boyhood Pete Seeger singalong - I know the "radical verses" as well as any Obamaphile - if I didn't feel happy for my left-of-center countrymen in their hour of long-awaited celebration. You can't say that they didn't work awfully hard for it.

January 16, 2009

The End of the Bush Presidency

Bob Woodward offers ten lessons to be drawn from the Bush Administration; none, as you might expect, are terribly flattering to our soon-to-be ex-President. Watching Bush's farewell address last night, what struck me above all was how long it's been since he felt like the President. Bush never had the gift of persuasion, the ability to give a State of the Union address or a press conference that left his enemies disarmed, but there was a time when he at least seemed like a leader - like someone consequential, active, and important, whatever one thought of his actions and their consequences. But that air of authority and leadership dissipated somewhere between the failure of Social Security reform and the 2006 midterms, and for the last two years Bush has projected the air of a bystander to history, as though events, and his presidency, were largely out of his hands.

You could imagine a different President passing through the same set of crises - Hurricane Katrina, Iraq's descent into chaos and the post-surge struggle back to some kind of stability, and finally this year's financial crisis - and coming out of them with a reputation as a battler, a man in the arena, a struggler and a doer who put his stamp on his time, even if the time was difficult and his decisions often went awry. But where the events of his second term were concerned, Bush seemed like a supporting player in his own presidency, standing in the wings while other figures - Mike Brown and Michael Chertoff; Donald Rumsfeld and then David Petraeus; Hank Paulson and Ben Bernanke - took center stage, striving and erring, claiming opprobrium and credit, and generally overshadowing the man in the West Wing.

It was appropriate, in a sense, that his farewall remarks echoed his expansive Second Inaugural, with its simple (and simplistic) vision of a world divided between freedom and tyranny, and a crusading America advancing the one and defeating the other. He was at home in that rhetoric; he's never seemed at home since. And as Chris Brose suggests, while Bush's vision may have been appropriate to the post-9/11 moment, when the United States needed to be rallied against our foes, it wasn't the right sort of rhetoric for the broader era of terrorism, counterinsurgency, and counter-proliferation in which we find ourselves - and it's been consistently at odds with the gritty challenges of Bush's second term, from the post-invasion struggles in Iraq and Afghanistan to the "uncrackable" problems of Pakistan, Iran and North Korea.

And the fact that Bush never found an idiom with which to address those challenges is one of the bigger reasons why it's hard to imagine his Presidency being redeemed by history, even if the invasion of Iraq is deemed a better choice from the vantage point of 2025 than it's deemed my most today. Maybe - maybe - the gutsy decision to "surge" forces into Iraq in 2007, rather than abandon that country as lost, will make an enormous difference to the future of the Middle East. But even in making that decision, Bush never really claimed ownership of it: He had lost too much credibility, and lacked the capacity to be an advocate for the strategy he'd chosen. The surge was Bush's choice, but the policy belonged to Petraeus and Raymond Odierno, to John McCain and Robert Gates - because the presidency that's just ended seemed like it ended long ago.

January 14, 2009

Race and The Israel Lobby

Freddie deBoer emails:

It seems to me, from reading your blog post and from watching your Bloggingheads with Matt Yglesias, that part of your problem with The Israel Lobby is that, intentionally or not, it mimics certain anti-Semitic tropes. Isn't that exactly, though, the kind of argument that has been directed at conservatives regarding race, to their great consternation? With issues like affimative action or similar, conservatives have been accused of being near-racists, like racists, arguing in similar ways to racists.... And over and over again, conservatives have replied that nuance matters, context matters, intent matters, details matter. Surely the same is true when it comes to criticizing Israel and accusations of anti-Semitism. If nothing else, your opinion reinforces the notion that, when it comes to Israel, we don't play by the usual rules, and everyone has to be a little careful, not say too much, not go too far from the conventional path. That's not a good thing, I don't think.
It's a fair issue to raise. To be clear, I don't think that Walt and Mearsheimer are mimicking anti-Semitic tropes intentionally; I think they're doing so obtusely, in the course of a tendentious and simplistic argument about the roots of U.S. foreign policy. And precisely because I think their argument is tendentious, simplistic and wrong, I'm less interested in defending them against charges of anti-semitism than I am in defending conservatives - with whose arguments I generally agree - against what I see as dubious charges of racism. Maybe that's unfair or hypocritical on my part. Certainly if you think that Walt and Mearsheimer are the victims of a suffocating and dangerous atmosphere of lockstep philo-Zionism in the American intelligentsia, then it makes sense to defend their right to raise questions regardless of whether their answers make sense. But I tend to see them more as the beneficiaries, in terms of book sales and media attention, of a calculated decision to take a highly-polemical approach to a hot-button topic; I think they received plenty of respectful, not-at-all-vitriolic criticism from prominent papers and reviewers; and I think they ultimately did a disservice to the points where I'm in agreement with them, and to the broader cause of a better American foreign policy, by couching arguments against, say, the invasion of Iraq or Israel's settlement policy in the West Bank in terms that were unlikely to convince anyone not already persuaded. So I'm not inclined to see them as figures in desperate need of defense.

It's also worth noting that "race card" debates takes place in a different political context than "anti-Semitism card" debates. In today's America, there simply aren't any major political actors taking explicitly racist/segregationist positions, and in recent national elections the race debate has largely moved beyond even the arguments over racially-charged issues like busing, affirmative action and crime, and into the realm of symbolism and subliminal messaging. The debate over Israel, on the other hand, takes place in a context in which explicit anti-Semitism - anti-Semitism as policy, that is, and with at least a somewhat eliminationist edge - is a live and potent political force. The racist tropes that the McCain campaign stood accused of dabbling in - the black male as sexual aggressor, and so forth - are the stuff of underground white supremacist literature and subconscious suburbanite anxieties. But the anti-Semitic tropes that Walt and Mearsheimer stood accused of dabbling in are the stuff of everyday rhetoric in large swathes of the Islamic world, and they're essential to the public worldview of Israel's immediate political enemies. I'm not sure how much difference this reality should make in how carefully one treads around this nest of issues - versus how much care you take to, say, avoid putting a black politician in an ad with a white woman - but certainly it should make some difference.

January 13, 2009

Hope Is Not A Strategy

Bradley Burston, via Jeffrey Goldberg:

In recent days, however, Israeli moderates and the center-left have been faced a new and bizarrely troubling thought: What if this most denounced of wars actually does some good?

Lurking at the margins, are signs that this war may have positive downstream effects for Israel, and for Palestinian peace prospects as well. Much of this hinges on the effect it may ultimately have on Iran and its satraps. In fact, viewed against the report that the Bush administration forbade an Israeli air strike on Iranian nuclear facilities, the war, as horrible as many of its direct results have been, may actually serve to break the momentum of the Iranian juggernaut. What can safely be assumed, is that if Iranian influence continues to grow in the Holy Land, peace prospects will be extinguished for years to come.

As if to emphasize the ambivalence that Israelis feel, polls have shown a large majority supporting the war, but only a tiny percentage believing that the offensive will achieve even the limited goal of ending Palestinian rocket fire into Israel.
A week ago I remarked on the inevitable murkiness of just-war theory, but this strikes me as a case where the murk isn't that murky after all: If you think that a given military operation has a lousy chance of achieving its most immediate and tangible objective, you shouldn't support it based on the hope that it might achieve "positive downstream effects" on regional politics. Military force is a blunt instrument, and as such it's well-suited to the pursuit of goals - turning back aggression, preventing genocide, destroying weapons programs, etc. - in which effectiveness tends to be correlated with the amount of force employed, and the success or failure of a given operation can be judged, within reasonable limits, in the short run. But if you move beyond short-term objectives - which is to say, beyond strictly military objectives - thinks get very dicey very quickly: The future is wildly unpredictable, warfare inevitably multiplies unintended consequences, and the difficulty involved assessing whether, say, the curbing of Iranian influence is worth the risk of Somalia-by-the-Sea ought to strongly tip the scales against going to war with the former objective in mind. The Gaza incursion has moral legitimacy, to my mind, if and only if it's approached primarily as an operation aimed at protecting the inhabitants of southern Israel against attacks from the terrorist-run statelet next door; once you start using hypothetical "downstream" consequences as your main justification for war, you're entering a realm in which war almost certainly shouldn't be justified at all.

This is, like so many things, a lesson that I take from the conflict in Iraq. As many war supporters pointed out, then and now, there were all sorts of positive developments that could have flowed from Saddam Hussein's ouster. And over the long haul, some of them still might come to pass, despite the toll the war has taken. But the pre-war debate revolved around weapons of mass destruction for a reason: It was "the one reason everyone could agree on," as Paul Wolfowitz famously put it, because it was the one reason for war that was premised on an immediate and tangible military objective - disarm a bad guy before he uses his weapons against you - and that didn't depend on long-range hypotheticals about Arab democratization, an Iran-Syria domino effect, a weak horse/strong horse dynamic, and so forth. Strip away Saddam's (supposed) rearmament and the imminent threat it (supposedly) posed, and the fact that you had nine other "here's why this might be a good idea" reasons for war did not a strong-enough justication for war make. Military conflict is simultaneously too grave and too unpredictable to be entered into if your primary objective depends upon a chain of hypothetical second-order consequences stretching across months and years.

This doesn't mean that you shouldn't consider the long run as well as the short run, and political as well as strictly military objectives, when you're making the decision for or against the use of force. In the case of Gaza, as many people have pointed out, it's easy to imagine a scenario in which Israel attains its short-term security objectives at the expense of the chances for a long-term peace, and the war ends up being judged a failure on long-term grounds even if it seems to succeed in the shorter run. But while plausible short-term military objectives aren't always a sufficient condition for going to war, I do think they're a necessary one - and if you think, as the Israeli people apparently do, that those objectives can't be attained, then you probably shouldn't be supporting the war in the first place.

Update: Though to be fair to the Israelis in the poll, it's possible that they believe that completely "ending Palestinian rocket fire" is impossible, but that dramatically limiting such fire (which would be a legitimate, short-term military objective as well) is possible, and they support the war more on those grounds than because they have high hopes for "positive downstream effects" where Iran and the peace process are concerned.

January 12, 2009

Neuhaus, Ctd.

The wizards at TNR have exhumed my long-ago back-and-forth with Damon Linker.  

January 9, 2009

Neuhaus and Liberalism

Damon Linker:

In his obituary for Richard John Neuhaus, Douthat claims, in response to some nameless silly person (who just happens to be me), that Neuhaus was dedicated to reconciling Christianity with the liberal tradition. I suspect that will sound pretty odd to those familiar with Neuhaus' role in arming the conservative side of the culture war with arguments intended to decimate liberalism. But then everything begins to make sense once you follow the link that Douthat supplies with his statement, which brings you to a Neuhaus article on "The Liberalism of John Paul II." Oh, that liberal tradition. The liberalism that traces American democratic ideas not to the Enlightenment but to medieval Christendom. The liberalism that believes (in Neuhaus' words, written in 1984) that "only a transcendent, a religious, vision can turn this society from a disaster and toward the fulfillment of its destiny" as a "sacred enterprise." The liberalism that holds (in Neuhaus' words, written in 1997) that the American experiment "may well be ending . . . under the iron rule of the 'separation of church and state.'" The liberalism that espouses the Manichean view that one of the country's two major political parties, the nation's media, and its courts--and perhaps 52.9 percent of the American people--are in the grip of a bloodthirsty "culture of death" that needs to be combated by champions of the "culture of life," who just so happen to make their home in the country's other major political party. That's the liberalism of John Paul II and Richard John Neuhaus.

And therein lies Neuhaus' greatest ideological innovation. Rather than maintaining that the religious right should replace liberal politics with some other, religiously grounded form of political association, he insisted that, properly understood, liberal politics is (or once was, or should be--on this he was often unclear) a religiously grounded form of political association. Viewed in this way, the Pope, Neuhaus himself, and their Protestant friends (like Pat Robertson, Chuck Colson, James Dobson, Ralph Reed, and Karl Rove) become America's true liberals, while all those millions of Americans on the right and left who prefer a more mundane form of politics (and who in nearly every other context are considered liberals of the classical or modern variety) become the antagonists the true liberal tradition.

Damon and I have been round and round on these questions many times before (though unfortunately our major exchange has vanished into the maw of TNR's archives), so I'll be brief. Basically, if you set aside the tendentiousness, there's truth to what he says above. Neuhaus argued that the American constitutional order, and the form of liberalism it embodies, "is premised upon moral truths secured by religion," to quote from his essay on John Paul II and the liberal tradition. Moreover, he believed that the modern left's emphasis on the separation of religion and politics (as opposed to church and state) ran toward illiberalism, and that the left-wing promotion of legalized abortion and euthanasia amounted to a frontal assault on essentially liberal principles - human rights and human dignity and so forth. These are not uncontroversial views, to put it mildly, and they certainly made him a conservative in the modern political landscape. But they are views have deep roots in Anglo-American political history - the notion that liberalism's basic premises depend in some sense upon religion, in particular, is as old as Hobbes and Locke - and as such they properly belong within the big tent of the American liberal tradition, rather than outside it. And a liberal tradition that cannot find, within its many mansions, room for Neuhaus (and, yes, for John Paul II as well), is a liberalism that any Christian worth his salt should think twice for before subscribing to.

For more on the Linker critique of Neuhaus's work, Noah Millman and Russell Arben Fox have characteristically thought-provoking musings. And for anyone interested in passing a fuller judgment on Neuhaus' thought, and its relationship with the liberal tradition, I recommend going to the horse's mouth: To the above-mentioned essay on JPII and liberalism; to Neuhaus's fascinating exchange with Stanley Fish on religion's compatibility with liberal democracy (and vice versa); to his rebuke to the theonomist temptation; to his recent lecture on "Our American Babylon" (which forms the basis, I believe, of what will be a posthumously published book); and to many other places as well. Whatever one's opinion of Neuhaus's political and theological commitments (and here I think Damon would agree), his writings ought to be required reading for anyone concerned with religion, politics, and the first principles (or "first things") that undergird the two - and he deserves as wide an audience, if not a wider one, in death as he enjoyed in life.

January 6, 2009

The Israel Lobby And Its Critics

Of Walt and Mearsheimer, Daniel Larison writes:

Without refighting the battles over The Israel Lobby all over again, I'll say this much. Whatever the flaws of the essay, it was far from "lousy," and the book addressed and fixed many of the flaws in the original essay. It is true that the book did not take into account the role of other Near Eastern governments and their lobbies (from my perspective, more attention to the complementary influence of pro-Turkish and pro-Israel lobbies would have made their claims stronger), but if you want to talk about farragoes of oversimplification and half-truths I could recommend any one of a dozen reviews and columns that misrepresented and distorted the claims of the authors in the sloppiest and most tendentious ways. The reception of the essay and the book was irrational in the extreme, and did more to validate main parts of their thesis than anything they could have written or demonstrated.
The "lousiness" question is a subjective one, obviously, where Daniel and I will have to agree to disagree. As for the rebuttals to the book - well, yes, many of them achieved the same level of oversimplification that The Israel Lobby achieved, albeit usually at a more manageable length and with fewer appeals to scholarly authority. But there's a danger in taking the near-universal criticism that Walt and Mearsheimer earned as evidence that their thesis was essentially correct: Sometimes you get near-universally drubbed because the world has gone wildly wrong, but more often it's because you have. In this vein, I would recommend the reviews the book received from Leslie Gelb in the Times Book Review, from Walter Russell Mead in Foreign Affairs, and especially (given his politics) from Daniel Lazare in The Nation - all of them essentially respectful and non-hysterical, and all of them deeply, deeply critical.

The best defense of Walt and Mearsheimer is that they were engaging in deliberately polemical effort, with no regard for evenhandedness or nuance, because only a polemical treatment of the topic could provide an appropriate corrective to the one-sidedness of the broader American media conversation about Israel. But for two men who take themselves seriously as scholars, this doesn't seem like much a defense to me, not least because their polemical style - and the extent to which it did, in fact, echo tropes of classical anti-Semitism, however innocently or unintentionally - had the predictable effect of undercutting the non-polemical aspects of their argument, and preventing precisely the sort of serious debate they claimed to be interested in having.

January 5, 2009

A New Foreign Policy

If you haven't already checked it out - starting with Shadow Government, a loyal-opposition blog featuring Peter Feaver, Philip Zelikow, and my good friend Christian Brose, and continuing down an impressive new blogroll and main site - then you've missed the DC wonkosphere event of the New Year. (Well, so far.)

Just War and Modern Warfare

This Peter Hitchens line seems to offer a tidy distillation of the moral case that's been advanced around the blogosphere against Israel's tactical approach to the war in Gaza:

Terrorist attacks on Israel are indeed revolting and indefensible. But the bombing of densely populated areas, however accurate, is certain to cause the deaths of many innocents.

How then can it be defended? In what important way is it different from Arab murders of Israeli women and children?

One is directly deliberate. The other is accidental but unavoidable. I wouldn't say that was a specially important distinction, especially if you are a victim of it.

On the one hand, there's an important implicit point here - namely, that the moral distinction between accidentally killing civilians in pursuit of a legitimate military objective and deliberately killing civilians is much murkier in practice than in theory; that the term "unavoidable" can be employed to cover a multitude of sins; and that numbers do matter, and the more civilian deaths a military operation "unavoidably" causes, the more one should be skeptical about its justice. These are things that conservative just-war theorists, especially, would do well to keep in mind, not least because they tend to share a political coalition with thinkers and writers whose understanding of morality and war runs in a more utilitarian direction. (For instance: If you believe in just-war theory but find yourself using it to justify almost every single major policy decision the United States has ever made in wartime - as some conservatives are wont to do - then you're probably stretching your moral theory to covers things that shouldn't be covered.)

On the other hand, though, the explicit logic of Hitchens' argument has the potential to vitiate just-war theory entirely - or else reduce it to a gentlemen's agreement suited to 18th century battlefields and not much else. If highly-targeted bombing raids in densely-populated areas in the pursuit of explicitly military objectives are inherently morally illegitimate because they inevitably leads to civilian casualties, then what about house-to-house fighting in densely-populated areas? Doesn't that inevitably produce civilian casualties as well? (Answer: Yes.) Doesn't Hitchens' logic require saying, then, that any sort of significant urban military campaign is morally indistinguishable from straightforward butchery of civilians - or if a distinction exists, it's not "specially important"?

If so, he's taking just-war theory to a place so narrow, and so close to pacifism, that it ceases to have any practical application to modern warcraft. Now maybe that's where it should be taken. There's a not-unreasonable case that modern warfare by its very nature - because of military technology, urbanization, mass mobilization, the collapse of the distinction between civilians and soldiers, the rise of non-state actors, and so on and so forth - has left traditional just war theory in a state of crisis from which it's unlikely to recover. And if the theory is in crisis, then there's something to be said for Christians, in particular, withdrawing toward the more absolute presumption toward nonviolence suggested in the Gospels.

My own view, though, is that just war theory has always been in crisis, and that modernity has only heightened the contradictions - because almost all of the standards the theory sets are so malleable in practice, and so difficult to apply consistently to the complexity of war and statecraft. Consider the Catechism's definition: Who gets to define what sort of harm is "lasting, grave, and certain" enough to justify going to war? Who decides when all means of preventing conflict "have been shown to be impractical or ineffective"? Doesn't almost everybody enter a war convinced they have "serious prospects of success"? Isn't every party to a war convinced that their actions won't "produce evils and disorders graver than the evil to be eliminated"? I'm being a bit glib, obviously, since serious thinkers have drilled down on all of these questions - but the fact remains that on a case by case basis, a shared commitment to just war theory doesn't guarantee anything like a consensus on the justice of a given war or operation.

This doesn't make the theory useless by any stretch, but it's useful primarily because it provides a broad framework of restraint: If you're thinking about questions of justice, you're less likely to commit an injustice, even if no perfect consensus exists on the distinction between a licit campaign and an illicit one. But for the framework to have the desired restraining effect on statesmen and warmakers, it has to marry practicality to idealism, and strike enough of a balance between the two to make it seem applicable to real-world crises. And if it's important not to stretch the theory to justify any goal or end you seek, it's also important not to narrow it to the point where it seems so unrealistic and disconnected from the realities of war that policymakers will feel comfortable ignoring it. Which is why I find the widespread tendency to label Israel's current tactics as unjust - as opposed to labeling the war as a whole unwise, and unjust in its unwisdom - to be a somewhat troubling development: If you find yourself saying that a modern state cannot take the fight to a terrorist regime if doing so unavoidably involves civilian casualties, you're advancing a theory of jus in bello that no state can accept - and ultimately, I suspect, you're giving ammunition to the side of the debate that wants to do away with moral restraint in the struggle against terrorism entirely.

December 29, 2008

Samuel Huntington, RIP

Reihan has an obit for his fellow Stuyvesant alum.

December 23, 2008

New York, Swing State?

Defending Caroline Kennedy, Michael Kinsley claims that it "is precisely the fear that she would be a formidable candidate, likely to be elected again and again, that is driving Republicans to gin up a phony issue and bully New York Gov. David [Paterson] out of appointing her." As Ramesh notes, the claim that only Republicans object to the idea of making Kennedy a Senator is specious - but even more peculiar is the notion, floated by many of Kennedy's supporters, that New York is the sort of state where liberals should be pining for (and conservatives should be terrified of) a deep-pocketed celebrity candidate to keep the Senate seat in Democratic hands. New York last elected a Republican Senator in 1992; in 2008 it went for Barack Obama by twenty-five points. It's not the safest seat in the country, but it's safe enough that almost any Democrat, once appointed, could expect to be "elected again and again," with or without the Kennedy mystique. Which is all the more reason to pick somebody more impressive than America's Princess for what's probably a long-term job - to look for the next Daniel Patrick Moynihan, in other words, rather than the next Lincoln Chafee.

Moreover, if I were a Republican Senate hopeful, I might actually prefer to run against Caroline Kennedy than against a blandly competent, non-Kennedy liberal politician. Any slight, slight hope a GOP candidate has of winning that seat in the next election depends on Obama's Presidency going very, very badly. And if it is going badly, then painting Senator Kennedy as an underqualified liberal yes-woman appointed to the Senate because of her family name and her connections to the White House - which would, in fact, be the truth - sounds like a pretty good narrative for an insurgent Republican to run on, however many gobs of money she manages to raise.

December 19, 2008

The "Insights" of Paul Ehrlich

Yuval Levin flags this footnote from a 2006 speech by Barack Obama's new science adviser, John Holdren; it's attached to a line in which Holdren references the threat that "continuing population growth" poses to human flourishing:

This was the key insight in Paul Ehrlich's The Population Bomb (Ballantine, New York, 1968), as well as one of those in Harrison Brown's prescient earlier book, The Challenge of Man's Future (Viking, New York, 1954). The elementary but discomfiting truth of it may account for the vast amount of ink, paper, and angry energy that has been expended trying in vain to refute it.
It is, I suppose, possible to find a "key insight" about population growth in Ehrlich's book that's anodyne enough to qualify as "elementary" and irrefutable. But there's a pretty good reason that the book is remembered primarily for its mix of hysteria and moral idiocy: When you kick off your argument by predicting that "the battle to feed all of humanity is over," and that "in the 1970s and 1980s hundreds of millions of people will starve to death in spite of any crash programs embarked upon now," and then proceed to argue for mass sterilization programs, the quarantine and abandonment of countries too overpopulated to save from total collapse, and various other "triage" methods (honestly, The Population Bomb has to be read to be believed), you pretty much forfeit the right to be praised for your prescience forty years down the line.

Unless, that is, one of your friends goes on to become the science advisor to the President of the United States. As John Tierney notes, Holdren and Ehrlich go way back:

Dr. Holdren, now a physicist at Harvard, was one of the experts in natural resources whom Paul Ehrlich enlisted in his famous bet against the economist Julian Simon during the "energy crisis" of the 1980s. Dr. Simon, who disagreed with environmentalists' predictions of a new "age of scarcity" of natural resources, offered to bet that any natural resource would be cheaper at any date in the future. Dr. Ehrlich accepted the challenge and asked Dr. Holdren, then the co-director of the graduate program in energy and resources at the University of California, Berkeley, and another Berkeley professor, John Harte, for help in choosing which resources would become scarce.

In 1980 Dr. Holdren helped select five metals -- chrome, copper, nickel, tin and tungsten -- and joined Dr. Ehrlich and Dr. Harte in betting $1,000 that those metals would be more expensive ten years later. They turned out to be wrong on all five metals, and had to pay up when the bet came due in 1990.

Now, you could argue that anyone's entitled to a mistake, and that mistakes can be valuable if people learn to become open to ideas that conflict with their preconceptions and ideology. That could be a useful skill in an advisor who's supposed to be presenting the president with a wide range of views. Someone who'd seen how wrong environmentalists had been in ridiculing Dr. Simon's predictions could, in theory, become more open to dissenting from today's environmentalist orthodoxy. But I haven't seen much evidence of such open-mindedness in Dr. Holdren.
Tierney goes on to talk about Holdren's war against Bjorn Lomborg, but honestly I think he's making too much of this: We all know that only Republican Administrations have a problem with politicized science, and since both Obama and his science adviser are Democrats there's really nothing to worry about here.

December 18, 2008

Caroline On My Mind

While Noam Scheiber does yeoman's work on the subject, Michelle Cottle questions the anti-Caroline backlash:

Of course America does political dynasties: Bayh, Biden, Bush, Clinton, Cuomo, Daley, Dole...If you've got an hour to kill, check out Wikipedia's massive entry on U.S. political families, alphabetically subdivided.

Sure she'd be skipping a few rungs on the electoral ladder. So did New Jersey's Jon Corzine. So did Virginia's Jim Webb. So did Hillary Clinton, for that matter. And, God help us, there's still an outside chance that Al Franken could pull this thing off in Minnesota. As for her simply being handed this particular seat: Until we do away with the ridiculous gubernatorial-appointment system (a worthy cause Blago may have helped along), anyone who gets this seat will have it handed to him/her.

Let's face it, all rich, well-connected, powerful people kinda think they're entitled to whatever they want. Michael Bloomberg wanted to be Mayor of New York. Jon Corzine wanted to be a Senator--then governor.  Perennial failure George W. Bush wanted to be governor, then President. Arnold and Jesse wanted to be governors. Life is just more fun and opportunity-filled when you're rich and famous. Deal with it.  

Well, look, obviously worse things have happened to American politics than the appointment of Caroline Kennedy to a U.S. Senate seat. But what's at issue here isn't so much dynastic politics, the gubernatorial-appointment system, or the particular entitlement of the rich and well-connected as the intersection of all three: Taken alone, these phenomena are tolerable; taken together, they're noxious enough to deserve at least some pushback. Yet instead,
Kennedy's bizarre pseudo-campaign for the New York Senate (conducted amid a major scandal involving another Senate appointment!) has received all sorts of fawning press coverage from a media that still seems starstruck by her father forty-five years after his death.

Again, I can live with legacy politicians, underqualified appointees, and entitled rich people. I just think the Senate can do without an rich, underqualified legacy appointee whose press coverage would lead you to believe that she's a cross between Florence Nightingale, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Princess Diana and Princess Leia.
But it looks like that's what we're going to get.

What Would Gore Have Done?

Responding to my reference to Truman and the atomic bomb in my rambling torture post, Ta-Nehisi asks an important question:

[Ross argues] that basically anyone other potential president in Truman's shoes would have done the same thing as Truman. But you simply can't make the same argument about Bush. Indeed, it's not even clear that every potential Republican president would have approved of water-boarding. I think you can fairly argue that Truman was in something of a historical--if not moral--bind. Some people will argue that Bush was also. But for the point Ross makes about Truman to be true of Bush, he would need to prove that Al Gore, and even John McCain, a torture victim himself, would have approved of water-boarding.
Right, and this is the nub of the issue - or one of the nubs, at least. To a large extent, how we think about the Bush Administration's interrogation policies depends on whether we think another president, Democratic or Republican, would have allowed the same sort of tactics in Bush's place. Jane Mayer thinks not, which is why she frames her reporting as a tale of far-right ideologues run amok, making war on American ideals in a fashion that's unprecedented in American history. But you don't have to look hard the history of our foreign policy, from the beginning of the twentieth century down the present day, to see continuities between the policies pursued by past Presidents and the approach the Bush Administration took to torture and/or torture-lite. Yes, the particular moral bind that Harry Truman faced with the atomic bomb was unique, but the logic he followed in that bind - that the potential gains to American security justified the brutal means - was typical of Presidents from William McKinley (whose Filipino counterinsurgency offers an interesting parallel to the Iraq War) down to Bill Clinton and George W. Bush. Again, I'll quote from Wesley Yang's Dark Side review:

While the struggle to defeat Fascism and Communism were worthy endeavours for which America deserves historical credit, both wars were fought in ways that would have landed American presidents before a war-crimes tribunal, at least according to the human rights standards that Americans have helped to foster, America's struggle against fascism included the only military use of nuclear weapons by any nation and the firebombing of German cities for no strategic purpose other than terrorising civilians; America's war against Communism involved training our client states in the use of assassination and torture - often against very bad men who were torturers and murderers themselves.
Nor did the end of the Cold War put an end to the bipartisan tendency toward placing raison d'etat above the standards of international law and morality that America officially aims to uphold. Ta-Nehisi wonders how President Gore would have handled the post-9/11 world, and in some sense it's obviously an unanswerable question. But it's worth recalling that the Clinton Administration, not the Bushies, pioneered "extraordinary rendition" - and it's worth citing this passage from Richard Clarke's memoir:

The first time I proposed a snatch, in 1993, the White House Counsel, Lloyd Cutler, demanded a meeting with the President to explain how it violated international law. Al Gore belatedly joined the meeting, having just flown overnight from South Africa. Clinton recapped the arguments on both sides for Gore: "Lloyd says this. Dick says that. Gore laughed and said, 'That's a no-brainer. Of course it's a violation of international law, that's why it's a covert action. The guy is a terrorist. Go grab his ass.'"
Now imagine that mentality translated into a context - the months after 9/11 - when it was widely believed that the Clinton Administration had been way too timid and way too lawyered-up in its approach to al Qaeda. Is it really plausible to imagine President Gore would have approached these issues like the bearded liberal truth-to-power speaker he became once he lost the White House? Isn't it much, much more likely that he would have become a post-9/11 proponent of a still-more gloves-off approach to terror suspects? (Remember that leading Democrats were briefed, to some extent at least, on what the Bush Administration was doing, and apparently raised no significant objections; indeed, the Post reported that "at least two lawmakers in the room asked the CIA to push harder.")

Now this doesn't mean that a Gore Administration would have signed off on exactly the same interrogation tactics that the Bush Administration permitted, or allowed the same sort of abuses to take place. (Without the invasion of Iraq, too - which might have plausibly happened in a Gore Presidency, but certainly would have been less likely to take place - there would have been no desperate, bloody counterinsurgency for the Gitmo interrogation tactics to migrate into.) Maybe Gore would have drawn the line at waterboarding. Maybe there would have been less of what Conor Friedersdorf describes as "testosterone charged bungling" in the implementation of interrogation protocols. (Though Gore's "go grab his ass" line sounds an awful lot like something you would have heard around Dick Cheney's office ...) Maybe there would have been more focus on what these kind of tactics do to America's reputation, and to the ability of jihadist organizations to recruit new members. And certainly a different, better-managed, less insular and paranoid administration would have done a far better job of being self-critical, making room for dissenting views, correcting abuses and changing course than the current occupants of the White House did.

But as far as the baseline of Bush Administration wrongdoing goes - the decision to take an ends-justify-the-means approach to the interrogation of terror suspects - I do think it needs to be placed in historical context, and treated as an example of the kind of consequentialism that's endemic to modern Presidencies (and to international affairs more generally), rather than as a distinct break with a more idealistic, human-rights-centric American past. That doesn't mean that I'm trying to generate sympathy for the hard, hard lives of John Yoo or Dick Cheney. It just means that if we're going to talk about the current President and his advisors as war criminals - which is how many liberals would have us think about them - we need to follow that logic where it leads: Toward a more wholesale repudiation of how American foreign policy has traditionally been conducted (and how we think about presidents from FDR to Reagan) than I think many liberals would be willing to accept. Put another way: I believe that the Bush Administration's interrogation policy was immoral, in its design and in its execution, but I don't believe it belongs to a category of immorality wholly different from other sorts of moral compromises that American Presidents have made, and will continue to make, for as long as this country remains a great power.

December 17, 2008

Caroline 2016!

Ben Smith floats the balloon ...

If Caroline Kennedy is appointed to the Senate and wins reelection, and Barack Obama serves two successful terms, Senator Kennedy from New York, into her second term after two high-profile campaigns, having amazed the pundits with her ability to step on and off charter jets in Rochester and be friendly to members of the City Council, will be an automatic top-tier candidate for president.
...and Allahpundit responds:

Sounds good, but if we do it, let's do it the right way -- by electing a completely different Democratic ticket, having the VP resign and Caroline appointed to replace him, and then having the president resign. The Gerald Ford plan, in other words. That way she doesn't have to fatigue herself by campaigning.
Because campaigns, like taxes, are only for the little people ...

Update: But wait - there's more!

Thinking About Torture (III)

Naturally, the day that I suggested that conservatives have intermixed evasion and silence on the interrogation issue was the day that National Review published an editorial on the subject - blasting the Levin-McCain report, and offering a more detailed defense of the Bush Administration's detainee policy than I've read in some time.

I would need something much more detailed, though, to shift my views about the Administration's record on this front. Specifically, I would like a defender of the Bush-Cheney-Rumsfeld approach to interrogation to write an extended review of Mayer's The Dark Side - as a joint review with Jack Goldsmith's The Terror Presidency, perhaps, or with any other book or report that seems relevant - and respond directly and in detail to the narrative she's pieced together, and to the direct and circumstantial evidence she marshals for a connection between the decisions made in the White House and the abuses that happened on the ground. To date, I don't think anything like this has appeared: Maybe I've missed something, but the most substantive critique of Mayer's work that I've seen belongs to Ben Wittes, and amid many criticisms he repeatedly praises the book's reporting, argues that the "larger narrative" she builds is essentially correct, and declares, accurately, that "no decent person can read her account of the CIA's interrogation program without something approaching nausea."

It's true that Mayer's analysis is often partisan and tendentious - you rarely forget that this is a book by a very liberal Democrat - and I think she doesn't reckon sufficiently with why the reactive, law-enforcement-based approach to counterterrorism that many of her sources clearly favor seemed so discredited after 9/11. But her reporting is deep and impressive and frequently horrifying, and the absence of a similarly deep and impressive response from the defenders of the Administration's policies - joined to the way her story dovetails with the one that Goldsmith and others have told - more or less forces me to the conclusion that she has the big picture right, and the Administration's defenders have it wrong.

Bernie Madoff, Stimulus Czar?

One of Tyler Cowen's alter egos gives Ben Bernanke some advice:

What about that guy who set up the phony investment company? Can the Treasury make a new one of those, only bigger? He took money away from people and gave it to charities and the needy and the arts and higher education. That sounds like stimulus so why are we sending him to jail? Wasn't he ahead of the curve?
For more serious stimulus-related commentary, here's Tyler citing a new paper on taxes, spending, and bang for your buck.

Thinking About Torture (II)

Since I quoted extensively from Mark Bowden's 2003 "Dark Art of Interrogation" essay in my last post, I should note that even as the essay suggested a distinction between coercion/torture-lite and torture proper, it was also quite explicit about how blurry the line between the two categories really is, and how easily coercion, if legally sanctioned, can shade into something darker:

It may be clear that coercion is sometimes the right choice, but how does one allow it yet still control it? Sadism is deeply rooted in the human psyche. Every army has its share of soldiers who delight in kicking and beating bound captives. Men in authority tend to abuse it--not all men, but many. As a mass, they should be assumed to lean toward abuse.

... And how does one define "coercion," as opposed to "torture"? If making a man sit in a tiny chair that forces him to hang painfully by his bound hands when he slides forward is okay, then what about applying a little pressure to the base of his neck to aggravate that pain? When does shaking or pushing a prisoner, which can become violent enough to kill or seriously injure a man, cross the line from coercion to torture?

... when the ban is lifted, there is no restraining lazy, incompetent, or sadistic interrogators. As long as it remains illegal to torture, the interrogator who employs coercion must accept the risk. He must be prepared to stand up in court, if necessary, and defend his actions.
I've cherry-picked these quotes; do read the whole thing. As I said, I'm not entirely sure that I agree with Bowden on the last point - if we are going to say that some sort of physical coercion has to be allowed the most extreme circumstances, then part of me thinks that the allowance has to be built into the law in some sense, rather than being "handled with a wink, or even a touch of hypocrisy," as Bowden puts it elsewhere in the piece. But certainly his description of the slippery slope that follows from offering a broad "yes" to torture-lite looks awfully prescient today.

December 16, 2008

Thinking About Torture

I haven't written anything substantial, ever, about America's treatment of detainees in the War on Terror. There are good reasons for this, and bad ones. Or maybe there's only one reason, and it's probably a bad one - a desire to avoid taking on a fraught and desperately importantly subject without feeling extremely confident about my own views on the subject.

I keep waiting, I think, for somebody else to write a piece about the subject that eloquently captures my own inarticulate mix of anger, uncertainty and guilt about the Bush Administration's interrogation policy, so that I can just point to their argument and say go read that. But so far as I know, nobody has. There's been straightforward outrage, obviously, from many quarters, and then there's been a lot of evasion - especially on the Right, where occasional defenses of torture in extreme scenarios have coexisted with a remarkable silence about the broad writ the Bush Administration seems to have extended to physically-abusive interrogation, and the human costs thereof. But to my knowledge, nobody's written something that captures the sheer muddiness that surrounds my own thinking (such as it is) on the issue.

That muddiness may reflect moral and/or intellectual confusion on my part, since the grounds for straightforward outrage are pretty obvious. There's a great deal of political tendentiousness  woven into Jane Mayer's The Dark Side, for instance, but it's very difficult to come away from her reportage unpersuaded that this Administration's counterterrorism policies exposed significant numbers of people - many guilty, but some innocent - to forms of detention and interrogation that we would almost certainly describe as torture if they were carried out by a lawless or dictatorial regime. For a less vivid but also somewhat less partisan analysis that reaches the same conclusion, you can read the executive summary of the just-released Levin-McCain report. (And of course both Mayer's book and the Armes Services Committee report are just the latest in a line of similar findings, by reporters and government investigations alike.)

Now it's true that a great deal of what seems to have been done to detainees arguably falls  into the category of what Mark Bowden, in his post-9/11 Atlantic essay on "The Dark Art of Interrogation," called "torture lite": It's been mostly "stress positions," extreme temperatures, and "smacky-face," not thumbscrews and branding irons. But it's also clear now, in a way that it wasn't when these things were still theoretical to most Americans, that the torture/torture lite distinction gets pretty blurry pretty quickly in practice. It's clear from the deaths suffered in American custody. It's clear from the testimony that Mayer puts together in her book. And it's clear from the outraged response, among conservatives and liberals alike, to the photographs from Abu Ghraib, which were almost all of practices closer to "torture-lite" than outright torture but which met, justly I think, with near-universal condemnation nonetheless. (And while it still may be true that in some sense, the horrors of Abu Ghraib involved individual bad apples running amok, they clearly weren't running all that far amok, since an awful lot the things they photographed themselves doing - maybe not the human pyramids, but the dogs, the hoods, the nudity and so forth - showed up on lists of interrogation techniques approved by the Secretary of Defense himself.)

So as far as the bigger picture goes, then, it seems indisputable that in the name of national security, and with the backing of seemingly dubious interpretations of the laws, this Administration pursued policies that delivered many detainees to physical and mental abuse, and not a few to death. These were wartime measures, yes, but war is not a moral blank check: If you believe that Abu Ghraib constituted a failure of jus in bello, then you have to condemn the decisions that led to Abu Ghraib, which means that you have to condemn the President and his Cabinet.

Given this reality, whence my uncertainty about how to think about the issue? Basically, it stems from the following thought: That while the Bush Administration's policies clearly failed a just-war test, they didn't fail it in quite so new a way as some of their critics suppose ... and moreover, had I been in their shoes I might have failed the test as well. On the first point, I actually have found an essay that captures my sentiments; it's Wesley Yang's review of The Dark Side, in which he writes as follows:

The polemical energy of Mayer's book comes from her outrage at the violation of these values. In her introduction, she characterises the Bush Administration's conduct in the War on Terror as "a quantum leap beyond earlier blots on the country's history and history," and "a dramatic break with the past." She invokes the judgment of the eminent liberal historian Arthur Schlesinger, Jr, that "no position taken has done more damage to the American reputation in the world - ever."

But Mayer overplays her hand, going on to write that "in fighting to liberate the world from Communism, Fascism and Nazism, and working to ameliorate global ignorance and poverty, America had done more than any nation on earth to abolish torture and other violations of human rights." Here Mayer confuses the fact that America has always supported human rights in principle with the idea that it has always championed them in practice.

The tactics of the New Paradigm, after all, did not have to be invented from whole cloth. After September 11, Cheney turned to the CIA's archives in search of examples that had worked in the past. "He was particularly impressed," Mayer writes, "with the Vietnam War-era Phoenix Program.

"Critics, including military historians, have described it as a programme of state-sanctioned torture and murder. A Pentagon contract study later found that 97 per cent of the Viet Cong it targeted were of negligible importance. But as September 11, inside the CIA, the Phoenix Program served as a model."

Mayer doesn't have another word to say about the Phoenix Program, and her reticence is telling, in a book that is otherwise so exhaustive in the way it details the histories of its major players and the institutional background of the responsible agencies. The Phoenix Program was a CIA-directed operation to interrogate, detain or assassinate a network of Viet Cong insurgents who were themselves torturing and assassinating South Vietnamese officials. A Senate investigation later concluded 20,000 Viet Cong were killed in the process.

Mayer doesn't specify what Cheney took from the Phoenix Program, but he certainly found confirmation that we had done these things before, and on a massive scale. CIA interrogation manuals issued in 1963 and 1983 and used by American client states in the proxy battles of the Cold War in Latin America and elsewhere also listed ways to force a recalcitrant subject to talk. She quotes a historian of the CIA noting that our latter-day torturers not only used those techniques, "they perfected them" - underscoring the fact that they were already there to be perfected.

Mayer is too scrupulous a reporter not to mention these departures from American values. But she is also too committed to a particular narrative - in which America's status as the country that "had done more than any nation on earth to abolish torture and other violations of human rights" has been suddenly hijacked by bad men in the Bush administration - to follow that disclosure to its conclusion.

Which is simply this: America has always remained true to its values - except in the rather numerous instances when it has violated them.

Yang describes this as one of "the genuine paradoxes of power that no nation-state aspiring to global leadership can evade." And indeed, the most compelling and intellectually-consistent condemnations of the Bush Administration have come from precisely those factions - on the left, and also the small-r republican right - who believe that the United States should not aspire to global leadership, because such aspirations require unacceptable compromises with the bloody realities involved in power politics and empire.

For those of us, though, who persist in the belief that some sort of American global leadership is better, for all its inherent problems, than most of the alternatives, Yang's analysis has to be reckoned with in ways that go beyond simply describing Gitmo, Abu Ghraib, and the CIA "black sites" as unique affronts to American values. These and other Bush-era sins have to be considered in the context of previous moral compromises that we've found a way to live with.

For instance: The use of the atomic bomb. I think it's very, very difficult to justify Harry Truman's decision to bomb Hiroshima and Nagasaki in any kind of plausible just-war framework, and if that's the case then the nuclear destruction of two Japanese cities - and indeed, the tactics employed in our bombing campaigns against Germany and Japan more broadly - represents a "war crime" that makes Abu Ghraib look like a trip to Pleasure Island. (And this obviously has implications for the justice of our entire Cold War nuclear posture as well.) But in so thinking, I also have to agree with Richard Frank's argument that "it is hard to imagine anyone who could have been president at the time (a spectrum that includes FDR, Henry Wallace, William O. Douglas, Harry Truman, and Thomas Dewey) failing to authorize use of the atomic bombs" - in so small part because I find it hard to imagine myself being in Truman's shoes and deciding the matter differently, my beliefs about just-war principle notwithstanding.

The same difficulty obtains where certain forms of torture are concerned. If I find it hard to condemn Harry Truman for incinerating tens of thousands of Japanese civilians, even though I think his decision probably violated the moral framework that should govern the conduct of war, I certainly find it hard to condemn the waterboarding of, say, a Khalid Sheikh Muhammed in the aftermath of an event like 9/11, and with more such attacks presumably in the planning stages. I disagree with Charles Krauthammer, who has called torture in such extreme circumstances a "moral duty"; rather, I would describe it as a kind of immorality that we cannot expect those charged with the public's safety to always and everywhere refrain from. (Perhaps this means, as some have suggested, that we should ban torture, but issue retroactive pardons to an interrogator who crosses the line when confronted with extreme circumstances and high-value targets. But I suspect that this "maybe you'll get retroactive immunity, wink wink" approach probably places too great a burden on the individual interrogator, and that ultimately some kind of mechanism is required whereby the use of extreme measures in extreme circumstances is brought within the law.)

Yet of course the waterboarding of al Qaeda's high command, despite the controversy it's generated, is not in fact the biggest moral problem posed by the Bush Administration's approach to torture and interrogation. The biggest problem is the sheer scope of the physical abuse that was endorsed from on high - the way it was routinized, extended to an ever-larger pool of detainees, and delegated ever-further down the chain of command. Here I'm more comfortable saying straightforwardly that this should never have been allowed - that it should be considered impermissible as well as immoral, and that it should involve disgrace for those responsible, the Cheneys and Rumsfelds as well as the people who actually implemented the techniques that the Vice President's office promoted and the Secretary of Defense signed off on.

But here, too, I have uncertainty, mixed together with guilt, about how strongly to condemn those involved - because in a sense I know that what they were doing was what I wanted to them to do.

Oh, not in every particular: As was often the case with the Bush Administration, I didn't envision many of the stupidities involved (reverse-engineering interrogation from training exercises designed to prepare for ChiCom brainwashing? really?); or the way that the debates over torture would intersect with controversies over executive power, the design of military tribunals, and so forth; or the precise scale and scope that any "torture-lite" program would take on. But I certainly remember how I felt about interrogation in the aftermath of 9/11: I felt that we were all suddenly in a ticking-bomb scenario, that the gloves have to come off, and that all kinds of things needed to be on the table. When Dick Cheney said that we have to work on "the dark side" in the post-9/11 environment, I thought that he was only stating the obvious. When Cofer Black, the CIA man who's depicted, perhaps unfairly, as a blundering fool in Mayer's account, appeared in accounts of Bush's late-2001 cabinet meetings as the guy who said of Al Qaeda, "when we're through with them they will have flies walking across their eyeballs," my instinctive reaction was hell yeah. And when Bowden walked Atlantic readers through the debate over torture-lite, I knew whose side I was on. Read it for yourself:

The word "torture" comes from the Latin verb torquere, "to twist." Webster's New World Dictionary offers the following primary definition: "The inflicting of severe pain to force information and confession, get revenge, etc." Note the adjective "severe," which summons up images of the rack, thumbscrews, gouges, branding irons, burning pits, impaling devices, electric shock, and all the other devilish tools devised by human beings to mutilate and inflict pain on others. All manner of innovative cruelty is still commonplace, particularly in Central and South America, Africa, and the Middle East ...

Then there are methods that, some people argue, fall short of torture. Called "torture lite," these include sleep deprivation, exposure to heat or cold, the use of drugs to cause confusion, rough treatment (slapping, shoving, or shaking), forcing a prisoner to stand for days at a time or to sit in uncomfortable positions, and playing on his fears for himself and his family. Although excruciating for the victim, these tactics generally leave no permanent marks and do no lasting physical harm.

The Geneva Convention makes no distinction: it bans any mistreatment of prisoners. But some nations that are otherwise committed to ending brutality have employed torture lite under what they feel are justifiable circumstances. In 1987 Israel attempted to codify a distinction between torture, which was banned, and "moderate physical pressure," which was permitted in special cases. Indeed, some police officers, soldiers, and intelligence agents who abhor "severe" methods believe that banning all forms of physical pressure would be dangerously naive. Few support the use of physical pressure to extract confessions, especially because victims will often say anything (to the point of falsely incriminating themselves) to put an end to pain. But many veteran interrogators believe that the use of such methods to extract information is justified if it could save lives--whether by forcing an enemy soldier to reveal his army's battlefield positions or forcing terrorists to betray the details of ongoing plots. As these interrogators see it, the well-being of the captive must be weighed against the lives that might be saved by forcing him to talk. A method that produces life-saving information without doing lasting harm to anyone is not just preferable; it appears to be morally sound.

Reading Mayer's book, the recent Senate report, and other sources, it seems clear that this was roughly the logic that motivated much of what was authorized in CIA prisons, in Gitmo, and eventually in a suicide-bomber-raddled Iraq - a logic that convinced figures like Rumsfeld and George Bush that they were stopping short of torture (think of Rumsfeld's dismissive margin comment, as he authorized long-term standing, that he stood for 8-10 hours a day, so why shouldn't prisoners?) even as the the practices they authorized led inexorably to abuse, violence and even death.

Some of the most passionate torture opponents have stated that they never, ever imagined that the Bush Administration would even consider authorizing the sort of interrogation techniques described above, to say nothing of more extreme measures like waterboarding. I was not so innocent, or perhaps I should I say I was more so: If you had listed, in the aftermath of 9/11, most of the things that have been done to prisoners by representatives of the U.S. government, I would have said that of course I expected the Bush Administration to authorize "stress positions," or "slapping, shoving and shaking," or the use of heat and cold to elicit information. After all, there was a war on! I just had no idea - until the pictures came out of Abu Ghraib, and really until I started reading detailed accounts of how detainees were being treated - what these methods could mean in practice, and especially as practiced on a global scale. A term like "stress positions" sounds like one thing when it's sitting, bloodless, on a page; it sounds like something else when somebody dies from it.

Now obviously what I've said with regard to the financial crisis is also true in this arena: With great power comes the responsibility to exercise better judgment than, say, my twenty-three year old, pro-torture-lite self. But with great power comes a lot of pressures as well, starting with great fear: The fear that through inaction you'll be responsible for the deaths of thousands or even millions of the Americans whose lived you were personally charged to protect. This fear ran wild the post-9/11 Bush Administration, with often-appalling consequences, but it wasn't an irrational fear - not then, and now. It doesn't excuse what was done by our government, and in our name, in prisons and detention cells around the world. But anyone who felt the way I felt after 9/11 has to reckon with the fact that what was done in our name was, in some sense, done for us - not with our knowledge, exactly, but arguably with our blessing. I didn't get what I wanted from this administration, but I think you could say with some justification that I got what I asked for. And that awareness undergirds - to return to where I began this rambling post - the mix of anger, uncertainty and guilt that I bring to the current debate over what the Bush Administration has done and failed to do, and how its members should be judged.

December 15, 2008

The Princess and the Senate

Chris Smith finds a novel way of expressing skepticism about Caroline Kennedy's decision to pursue her birthright an appointment to the U.S. Senate:
 

... the plot has some weaknesses. Perhaps it's still possible to be a different kind of senator, in the Paul Simon-Pat Moynihan mold: a legislator-intellectual, above and in the fray at the same time, who leaves office with his good name intact. Caroline Kennedy's desire to deploy her brains and her celebrity on a grander stage, primarily in service of public education, is admirable. But even if her motives are pure, and even if she's able to navigate the swamp of modern politics, there'd be something sad about seeing her subjected to all the grubby gossiping and money-hustling that the job inevitably entails. We'd be gaining a senator, possibly even a good one. But we'd be losing an icon.

I didn't think it was possible, but in a sense Smith has managed to out-Marcus Ruth Marcus: He's taken her starstruck case that Caroline Kennedy should get a Senate seat handed to her a silver platter because, well, she's an American Princess and turned it into an argument that Kennedy shouldn't take the seat because her fairy princess-y combination of gifts (she's a icon-cum-intellectual, a celebrity brainiac Cinderella, and she has a servant's heart besides) makes her way too good for the job!

(Because if there's a name that screams "too pure for the grubbiness of politics," it's definitely Kennedy ...)

December 14, 2008

Is Planned Parenthood Pro-Life?

If you want a reason why an abortion compromise isn't possible, try this contrast: My idea of a plausible middle ground on the issue requires the overturning of Roe v. Wade, followed by a move toward a system in which abortion is legal but discouraged in, say, the first ten weeks of pregnancy, and basically illegal thereafter. Whereas Will Saletan and Freddie De Boer, both serious-minded pro-choicers, are convinced that a plausible middle ground would involve pragmatic pro-lifers throwing their support (and tax dollars) behind America's largest abortion provider, on the grounds that its commitment to preventing unplanned pregnancy makes Planned Parenthood "the most effective pro-life organization in the history of the world."

There are two things to be said about the latter notion, beyond what I said in my last post (and what John Schwenkler has to say here and here and here). The first is that just because it seems intuitive - to liberals, at least - that Planned Parenthood's efforts at making contraception available and affordable dramatically reduce the abortion rate doesn't necessarily make it so. Here I'd refer you to the extended, years-old argument between Megan (then "Jane Galt," of course) and Peter Northrup on contraception and abortion: Suffice it to say that the link between the availability of Planned Parenthood's services and the abortion rate is, well, non-obvious at best. Indeed, a quick gloss on the state-level data from the 1990s that Megan cited in her debate with Northrup would seem to suggest that the best way to reduce your abortion rate is to straightforwardly make abortions harder to get, through legal restrictions and cultural pressure. After all, liberal, well-off, Planned Parenthood-friendly Massachusetts, had a late-'90s abortion rate roughly twice as high as poor, socially-conservative states like Mississippi, Arkansas and Alabama, and more than three times as high as highly pro-life states like South Dakota and Utah.

Now of course correlation isn't causation, and there are presumably many other factors at work in these state-level numbers than just the legal and cultural climate - racial and ethnic disparities, urban and rural differences, and so forth. But at the very least I'd like to see a lot more rigorous, data-rich analysis on this subject before I'd even concede that Planned Parenthood's preventive efforts do have a bigger impact on the abortion rate than legal and cultural efforts to restrict abortion, let alone that they trim the rate of unintended pregnancies sufficiently to outweigh the organization's efforts to make the procedure as cheap and easy to obtain as possible.

But the deeper point is this: The interaction between public policy and social trends is highly complex, and very difficult to predict, and thus there are any number of policy choices that can be plausibly said bear on the abortion rate, for good or ill. The distribution of contraception is just a small part of the pantomime. Which means that once you take the legal debate over the rights of the unborn out of the picture, and start redefining being pro-life as "pursuing lower abortion rates through policy choices,"  almost any policy preference can be re-cast as "pro-life." Married women tend to have fewer abortions, so clearly ending the marriage penalty was the most pro-life measure of the last fifteen years! But wait: There's evidence that increases in state-level Medicaid funding correlate with lower abortion rates in the short term - so maybe liberal Democrats are real pro-lifers! But wait again: Welfare reform and the economic boom of the 1990s correlated with plunging abortion rates, so maybe free-market conservatives are the real pro-lifers! But wait again: Maybe the abortion rate fell in the 1990s because the sort of women who would have grown up to have abortions were themselves aborted in the post-Roe 1970s ... so people who favor maximizing the abortion rate, paradoxically, turn out to be the real pro-lifers!

You can play this game ad infinitum. If the definition of being pro-life is "desiring the sort of circumstances that tend to reduce the abortion rate," than almost everybody is pro-life, because almost everybody thinks that their favored positions on trade, government spending, tax policy, the minimum wage and so forth will lead to better socioeconomic outcomes overall - and better socioeconomic outcomes overall will probably lead to fewer women seeking abortions. Now I'm obviously happy to have broad debates about public policy, and I certainly think that pro-lifers should be interested in crafting a broadly pro-family politics in addition to seeking a more pro-life legal regime. But the pro-life cause is primarily about issues of law, morality and justice, and if pro-lifers treat the broader pursuit of socioeconomic progress as a substitute for, rather than a complement to, the pursuit of legal protections for the unborn, then they've given up on their movement's raison d'etre to no good effect. Pro-lifers can and should be willing to compromise within the debate about how the law should treat unborn human life, by agreeing to legal regimes that stop short of their ultimate goal. But a "compromise" that involves giving up on that debate entirely in favor of arguments over which domestic-policy interventions will reduce the abortion rate on the demand side is no compromise at all: It would strip the pro-life movement of its purpose, drain it of its idealism, and transform it into an advocacy group for, well, good public policy, which practically every other political movement and organization claims to be already.

My Tax Dollars At Work

Inquiring liberal minds want to know why pro-lifers are eager to have the government stop giving Planned Parenthood hundreds of millions of dollars every year. After all, writes Ezra Klein, "abortion services comprise three percent of the services" that Planned Parenthood delivers, which means that if you cut their funding "you're mainly cutting contraception funding, thus ensuring more unwanted pregnancies and more abortions ... This is how the pro-life movement also becomes, in effect, the pro-herpes movement and the anti-birth control movement."

Just three percent, hmm? Why, that makes it sound like Planned Parenthood almost never performs abortions. Of course, the reality is rather different, as Charlotte Allen noted last year:

The 3 percent pie slice in the 2005-06 financial report, representing 264,943 abortion customers served, can only be described as deliberately misleading.

One way Planned Parenthood massages the numbers to make its abortion business look trivial is to unbundle its services for purposes of counting. Those 10.1 million different medical procedures in the last fiscal year, for instance, were administered to only 3 million clients. An abortion is invariably preceded by a pregnancy test--a separate service in Planned Parenthood's reckoning--and is almost always followed at the organization's clinics by a "going home" packet of contraceptives, which counts as another separate service. Throw in a pelvic exam and a lab test for STDs--you get the picture. In terms of absolute numbers of clients, one in three visited Planned Parenthood for a pregnancy test, and of those, a little under one in three had a Planned Parenthood abortion.
And even if they weren't massaging the numbers - even if their non-abortion business were enormous enough to make that three percent claim legitimate - they would still be performing more than 250,000 abortions a year. That's a 2, a 5, and four zeros - a figure that accounts, by Allen's reckoning, for somewhere north of $100 million in annual revenue for the organization, and that contrasts rather strikingly with the number 1,414, which is how many women the organization referred to an adoption agency in 2004-2005. (They've since stopped even reporting the adoption-referral number, apparently.).

If you're not against abortion, obviously, there's no reason any of this should bother you: Planned Parenthood's commitment to performing hundreds of thousands of low-cost abortions annually is a feature, not a bug. But telling people who are against abortion that they're "pro-herpes" because they don't support channeling three hundred million public dollars a year to America's largest abortion provider is the equivalent of me accusing a fierce and moralizing anti-theist like Sam Harris of being "anti-education" because he doesn't want his tax dollars being used to, say, fund the Catholic school system. The phenomenon of an institution that does good with one hand and evil with another is a familiar one in human history - even Hezbollah does a lot of impressive humanitarian work, I believe - and it does not by any means follow that those who oppose the evil are morally obligated to support the institution anyway just because it does other, less morally problematic things besides.

December 12, 2008

Petraeus 2012 (But Not How You Think)

Rod Dreher:

... the other day I was part of a conversation in which people were talking about the Blagojevich mess, and I overheard an elderly veteran say, "What we need in this country is a coup. Just bring the military in and straighten things out."

I asked him if he really meant that, and if he understood what he was saying.

"Hell yeah," he said. "Look at 'em." He meant Congress and Wall Street.

I think we'll be hearing a lot more of this in the years to come.
Some of you may have read Charles Dunlap's famous early-1990s piece imagining a military coup d'etat in the near-future United States. (He also participated in a Harper's roundtable on the same theme several years ago.) But even if you have read it, you may not remember - as I did not until I looked it up - the year in which he set his coup scenario.

It was, of course, the year of our Lord Two Thousand and Twelve.

Pragmatism They Can Believe In?

Chris Hayes critiques the Obama-as-pragmatist meme from the left ...

The chief failure of Bushism, according to Sunstein, is not its content but its form. Not the substance of ideology but the fact that he was too wedded to it, too rigid and dogmatic. It's a view widely held in Washington. Many, like Sunstein, have drawn a lesson from the past eight years that is not about the failure of conservatism - neo or otherwise - or the dangers of the particularly toxic ideological disposition of the Bush administration ... No, through a kind of collective category error, they have alighted on a far more general moral to the story: ideology, in any form, is dangerous. "Obama's victory does not signal a shift in ideology in this country," wrote Roger Simon in Politico. "It signals that the American public has grown weary of ideologies." No less an ideologue than Pat Buchanan has come to this same understanding. "If there is a one root cause of the Bush failures," he wrote, "it has been his fatal embrace of ideology."

If "pragmatic" is the highest praise one can offer in DC these days, "ideological" is perhaps the sharpest slur. And it is by this twisted logic that the crimes of the Bush cabinet are laid at the feet of the blogosphere, that the sins of Paul Wolfowitz end up draped upon the slender shoulders of Dennis Kucinich.
... but also holds out hope for it:

Obama could do worse than look to John Dewey, another onetime resident of Hyde Park and the founder of the University of Chicago Laboratory School, which Obama's daughters attend. Dewey developed the work of earlier pragmatists in a particularly fruitful and apposite manner. For him, the crux of pragmatism, and indeed democracy, was a rejection of the knowability of foreordained truths in favor "variability, initiative, innovation, departure from routine, experimentation."

Dewey's pragmatism was reformist, not radical ... Nonetheless, pragmatism requires an openness to the possibility of radical solutions ... Dewey understood that progress demands that the boat be rocked. And his contemporary Franklin Delano Roosevelt understood it as well. "The country needs," Roosevelt said in May 1932, "and, unless I mistake its temper, the country demands, bold, persistent experimentation. It is common sense to take a method and try it: if it fails, admit it frankly and try another. But above all, try something. The millions who are in want will not stand by silently forever while the things to satisfy their needs are within easy reach."

That is pragmatism we can believe in. Our times demand no less.
And the experimentation will start, of course, with bold, persistent attempts to pour massive amounts of taxpayer money into failing industries, while demanding that said industries begin investing in even-less-profitable ventures than the ones they're currently engaged in! Hurrah! Next up: The Blue Eagle makes a comeback ...

Sorry, sorry. All snark aside, Chris's "optimistic" scenario strikes me as reasonably plausible: After all, a regnant ideological liberalism that cloaks its ideological assumptions in the insistence that it's really pragmatic, results-oriented, and anti-ideological was the default setting for American politics for an awfully long time, and indeed remained the default setting for the political establishment on a great many questions even during the post-Reagan conservative ascendancy. It's pretty easy to imagine the country settling back into a groove that it never completely left.

The big question for progressives, I tend to think, isn't whether Barack Obama ends up draping the language of non-ideological "experimentation" around a succession of proposals that would shift American policy distinctly leftward and make John Dewey smile: He's already done that. It's whether the policy shifts he embraces will go far enough to reconcile progressives to the fact that a "non-ideological" liberalism, in our era as in the earlier liberal ascendancy, requires an ideological Left as its foil. In practice, this means that Obama will probably often end up defining himself against progressivism, rhetorically, even when he's embracing progressive ideas. (See his campaign's extremely effective health-care ads for an example of how this works in practice.) The President-elect's ability to hold his coalition together, then, may depend in no small part on whether the Democratic Party's left wing feels that it's getting enough out of his Presidency in practice to justify playing the bad guy in the narrative Obama will be selling to the country as a whole, in which post-partisan "whatever works" pragmatism triumphs over ideologues of the left and right alike.

Update: Reihan weighs in here.

December 11, 2008

Too Big To Fail, World Edition

Speaking of future foreign policy debates, Ambinder raises a good question:

... Where the discussion isn't going, at least in public,  (or the PR level), is the possibility that the first foreign policy crisis the administration will face will be the complete economic collapse of a large, unstable nation. To be sure, Pakistan is nearly broke, and U.S. policy makers seem to be aware of that; but a worldwide demand crisis could lead to social unrest in countries like Indonesia and Malaysia, Singapore, the Ukraine, Japan, Turkey or Egypt (which is facing an internal political crisis of epic proportions already). The U.S. won't have the resources to, say, engineer the rescue of the peso again, or intervene in Asia as in 1997.

The public rhetoric from Team Obama seems to treat history as having ended in early October, which is understandable; the priority right now is on the liquidity crisis, the structure of government and the peopling of the administration and the domestic economy.  Most of the administration's major policy voices don't have the luxury of time to game out scenarios. Now -- it can fairly be said that Treasury nominee Tim Geithner, himself an assistant secretary for international economic affairs during the Clinton administration, is aware of the precarious state demand in certain critical countries, as is Larry Summers.  The question: what's the administration's policy in this area? Which countries can we afford to let fail? Which unstable states would concern us the most? Is there something the U.S. can do, in advance, should do, in advance, to forestall the collapse of other economies?
Today: GM. Tomorrow: the Egypt bailout ...?

December 9, 2008

Luck, Hard Work and Meritocracy

There's some interesting discussion around David Leonhardt's review of Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers - and particularly around this passage:

These two stories about Gladwell are both true, and yet they are also very different. The first personalizes his success. It is the classically American version of his career, in that it gives individual characteristics -- talent, hard work, Horatio Alger-like pluck -- the starring role. The second version doesn't necessarily deny these characteristics, but it does sublimate them. The protagonist is not a singularly talented person who took advantage of opportunities. He is instead a talented person who took advantage of singular opportunities.[...]

Many people, I think, have an instinctual understanding of this idea (even if Gladwell, in the interest of setting his thesis against conventional wisdom, doesn't say so). That's why parents spend so much time worrying about what school their child attends. They don't really believe the child is so infused with greatness that he or she can overcome a bad school, or even an average one. And yet when they look back years later on their child's success -- or their own -- they tend toward explanations that focus on the individual.

One (perhaps obvious) thing that's worth noting here is that meritocracy, whatever its weaknesses, really does inculcate an extremely potent ethic of near-obsessive hard work - and it really does discriminate, in the rewards it bestows, between people who work hard and people who don't. This means that while meritocratic success tends to be inherited, in an important sense - because the whole culture of obsessive hyper-achievement is just that, a culture that some Americans are raised in and steeped in and some aren't - everybody doesn't inherit the same level of success. Getting into the right kind of schools because you have the right kind of parents is generally a necessary condition for ascending the meritocratic ladder, but it isn't a sufficient one; it tends to create a floor for failure, but it doesn't guarantee a ceiling for achievement. And this is true of narrower sorts of luck, as well, whether it's Bill Gates having a computer lab in his high school or Matt Yglesias starting a blog in the early days of the blogosphere: Tens of thousands of people started blogs in 2003 or 2004, but not very many people kept up the damn astonishing blogging pace that Yglesias has maintained ever since.

Thus the importance of the 10,000 hours aspect of Gladwell's argument - and thus, too, the psychological phenomenon Leonhardt is describing. Before you've put in your ten thousand hours (or before your child has done so), it makes sense to focus intently on the preconditions for success, rather than assuming that with enough hard work and talent you or your offspring can overcome any obstacle thrown in your way. But many of those preconditions are set, by definition, early in the life cycle, and the experience of actually succeeding takes place over the course of years of often-grinding work, in which a given meritocrat's work ethic makes a significant difference in how well you do relative to your peer group. (Not as much of a difference as being born a Kennedy, of course, but then again we only have so many fairy princesses ...)

By the time you reach the end of your career, then, what seems like the defining experience of your life isn't the broad luck of being born in the upper-middle class, or the narrower luck of being in the right place at the right time to join a hedge fund, or start a popular blog, or found a software company. It's the mad, mad treadmill that you've been running on since high school or earlier, the experience of which instills the not-unreasonable sense that despite all your advantages, you really do deserve your success.

Why Liberals Can't Govern

That's the lesson of the Blagejovich affair, right? (And the Rangel case, the William Jefferson scandal, and many more to come, no doubt ...) I mean, it seems like a pretty airtight generalization to me: Liberalism's ideological predisposition to expanding government power inevitably leads to gross corruption, which is why we should only trust conservatives, those flinty stewards of the common weal, to run our public institutions.

Right, Alan Wolfe? Right?

The Case For Caroline?

After allowing that her head tells her to "recoil from political dynasties," Ruth Marcus lets her heart make the case for Senator Kennedy of New York:

At the same time ... it would be silly to imagine that every senator or other person in high office has paid his -- or her -- political dues. A big bundle of cash -- see, for example, Jon Corzine, former Goldman Sachs chairman, former senator from New Jersey, now New Jersey governor -- is helpful for vaulting your way over the drudgery of doing time on the state Senate subcommittee on pensions. Ditto other forms of celebrity -- see, as an example, Arnold Schwarzenegger. Before getting all huffy about Caroline Kennedy's qualifications for the job, let's take a breath and remember Jesse Ventura and Sonny Bono.

Indeed, it's not a bad idea to have some senators who bring different experience to the chamber. Corzine's financial acumen, for instance, helped make him an impressive senator; it's too bad he's not there now as Congress wrestles with the financial crisis. Kennedy would bring to the table a serious understanding of the Constitution -- she's written a book on the subject -- and an expertise on education reform. She hasn't exactly been, to use the dangerous phrase of the woman she might replace, having teas and baking cookies.

I don't know about Jesse Ventura, but I find Schwarzenegger and Sonny Bono's pre-political careers as self-made showbiz entrepreneurs - to say nothing of Jon Corzine's career in finance - much more impressive than anything Caroline Kennedy has ever done. Her life has been dedicated to worthy pursuits, by and large, but most of her accomplishments (fundraising for New York public schools, editing essay collections in honor of her father, etc.) are classic "born on third base" endeavors - laudable enough without being terribly impressive. And all of the names on Marcus's list actually submitted themselves to the democratic process on their way to the Senate, the House, and the California's Governor's Mansion; for an appointment to fill a vacant seat (especially a safe vacant seat), the bar ought to be set a bit higher than "she's more qualified than Sonny Bono."

Here's a more provocative way of thinking about it. Caroline Kennedy is no doubt more prepared - in terms of her base of knowledge about national politics, her comfort with the ways of Washington, etc. - to be a United States Senator than Sarah Palin was to be Vice President. But if you consider where the two women started and stack their subsequent accomplishments against one another, Palin's Alaskan career is roughly six times more impressive than Kennedy's years as a high-minded Manhattan socialite and custodian of her family's good name. That doesn't mean that McCain was wise to pick Palin as his running mate. But if you think he wasn't, then you should definitely hope that the Democratic Party of New York hunts a little longer through its ranks before handing a Senate seat to the editor of The Best-Loved Poems of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis.

As for the rest of Marcus's argument ...

There are any number of intriguing subplots at work here. Her uncle's illness, and the "dream will never die" emotion of having Caroline in place to carry on his work. The don't-mess-with-my-family payback dynamic of putting in for the job to shove aside Andrew Cuomo, her cousin Kerry's former husband.

Imagine, by the way, how Hillary Clinton must be feeling. After all that work, after all those years, she not only lost the presidential nomination to Barack Obama, she now may be yielding her Senate seat to a woman who emerged from the political shadows to give Obama the benediction of the Kennedy legacy.

What really draws me to the notion of Caroline as senator, though, is the modern-fairy-tale quality of it all. Like many women my age -- I'm a few months younger than she -- Caroline has always been part of my consciousness: The lucky little girl with a pony and an impossibly handsome father. The stoic little girl holding her mother's hand at her father's funeral. The sheltered girl, whisked away from a still-grieving country by a mother trying to shield her from prying eyes.

In this fairy tale, Caroline is our tragic national princess. She is not locked away in a tower but chooses, for the most part, to closet herself there. Her mother dies, too young. Her impossibly handsome brother crashes his plane, killing himself, his wife and his sister-in-law. She is the last survivor of her immediate family; she reveals herself only in the measured doses of a person who has always been, will always be, in the public eye.

Then, deciding that Obama is the first candidate with the inspirational appeal of her father, she chooses to abandon her previous, above-it-all detachment from the hurly-burly of politics.

I know it's an emotional -- dare I say "girly"? -- reaction. But what a fitting coda to this modern fairy tale to have the little princess grow up to be a senator.

This is, of course, a pretty good distillation of the case against dynastic politics: Namely, that it transforms the business of republican self-government into a soap opera, in which the public/audience thrills to the "intriguing subplots" involving a President's daughter, a President's wife, and a Governor's son who happens to be the President's daughter's sister's ex-husband ... and sighs, enraptured, at the "fairy tale ending" when the President's daughter grows up to have a Senate seat handed to her as a reward for having endorsed the President-elect. This sort of politics is entertaining to write about, which is one reason why fantasy sagas and Shakespeare are generally more interesting than Washington novels. But after twenty years with the same two families in the White House - which nearly became twenty-four (or twenty-eight) - for a political columnist to endorse a pointless escalation of dynastic politics because it fulfills the fairy-tale mythos her generation spun around a mediocre, tragically-murdered President and his good-looking family isn't "girly"; it's an embarrassment.

Mr. Cao Goes To Washington

Whether or not the "Future is Cao" (oh, John Boehner ...) - and indeed, whether or not the newest Louisiana Congressman has any chance of winning re-election once the Democrats get their act together and put up someone who didn't get caught with an illicit $90,000 in his freezer - I hope that we can all agree with an over-the-moon Reihan that the world would be a better place if the Republican minority included many more politicians like Joseph Cao.

Indeed, I think there's a pretty strong case that the GOP should only nominate Asian-American Catholics from here on out ...

Our Enemy, The Payroll Tax (Revisited)

Incidentally, just because conservatives need to think hard about infrastructure doesn't mean that they necessarily need to embrace infrastructure spending as stimulus. (See Brooks today, for instance.) On the that front, the case for pushing a payroll-tax holiday seems pretty strong to me - but then again, I'm always up for weakening the payroll tax.

December 8, 2008

Bill Kristol and Big Government

Obviously I sympathize with many of the notes Bill Kristol strikes in his column today. But I think he's ultimately taking the argument too far, to the point where he seems to be suggesting that the modern Right can succeed by disentangling itself from "small government conservatism" entirely - which is as implausible as the notion that the GOP can succeed by ceasing to be the party of social conservatism. (In both cases, you need a baseline of idealism - about the proper role and the proper size of government, in this case - or else America's conservative party will just drift toward me-tooism.) What's needed isn't less small-government conservatism, full stop; rather, it's a smarter, better, more adaptable version of small-government conservatism - one that's more realistic about what can be accomplished in a welfare-state society, perhaps, and savvier about how to go about it, but one that doesn't give up on the central small-is-beautiful premise.

For instance, Kristol writes:

Five Republicans have won the presidency since 1932: Dwight Eisenhower, Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan and the two George Bushes. Only Reagan was even close to being a small-government conservative. And he campaigned in 1980 more as a tax-cutter and national-defense-builder-upper, and less as a small-government enthusiast in the mold of the man he had supported -- and who had lost -- in 1964, Barry Goldwater. And Reagan's record as governor and president wasn't a particularly government-slashing one.

Even the G.O.P.'s 1994 Contract With America made only vague promises to eliminate the budget deficit, and proposed no specific cuts in government programs. It focused far more on crime, taxes, welfare reform and government reform. Indeed, the "Republican Revolution" of 1995 imploded primarily because of the Republican Congress's one major small-government-type initiative -- the attempt to "cut" (i.e., restrain the growth of) Medicare. George W. Bush seemed to learn the lesson. Prior to his re-election, he proposed and signed into law popular (and, it turned out, successful) legislation, opposed by small-government conservatives, adding a prescription drug benefit to Medicare.
All true, and all important. But the fact that cutting government has proven politically difficult doesn't mean that small-government conservatives should despair, and it certainly doesn't mean that the small government tendency should be marginalized in right-wing politics. Rather, it counsels greater prudence in political salesmanship than some small-governmenteers display, and greater pragmatism and savvy about policy - because when the small government spirit is joined to prudence and savvy, it can actually accomplish quite a bit. As I wrote upon the death of William F. Buckley, the story of the modern GOP is only a story of small-government defeats if you define victory in absolutist terms:

Around the time that Buckley founded National Review, the federal government's share of GDP had been rising steadily for more than thirty years, from 3 percent in 1925 to 18.8 percent in 1962. In the Sixties and early Seventies, it seemed extremely plausible that the United States was a glide path to European-style social democracy. Then came the conservative ascendancy - and thirty years later, in 2001, government's share of GDP stood at ... 18.4 percent of GDP. (It's inched up somewhat, of course, under George W. Bush.) Now obviously there are a variety of reasons why the size of government stopped rising after the Seventies, but far from least among them is the influence that Buckley-style small-government conservatism has wielded over public policy lo these many years. (And remember that he promised to stop history, not to roll it back.)
And a philosophy of small government, properly understood, extends well beyond the immediate size of the government's annual budget to include the hidden welfare state of mandates and regulation - all those corvées that Reihan likes to talk about. Here the small-government Right has gained considerable ground over the period Kristol's talking about; here, too, there are plenty of important arguments conservatives can make that don't require the political suicide involved in a frontal assault on Medicare.

Oh, and about Medicare ... Come what may, some sort of serious small-government thinking is going to be required as Republicans and Democrats alike struggle with the looming entitlement crunch.  Again, this will require prudence and savvy and creativity, and it may require a kind of right-wing class warfare that conservatives are currently uncomfortable with (though we can learn!). But nothing good will come of the entitlement mess for the Right if the GOP becomes indifferent to small-government aspirations and arguments.

Then we come to Kristol's conclusion:

So: If you're a small-government conservative, you'll tend to oppose the bailouts, period. If you more or less accept big government, you'll be open to the government's stepping in to save the financial system, or the auto industry. But you'll tend to favor those policies -- universal tax cuts, offering everyone a chance to refinance his mortgage, relieving auto makers of burdensome regulations -- that, consistent with conservative principles, don't reward irresponsible behavior and don't politicize markets.

Similarly, if you're against big government, you'll oppose a huge public works stimulus package. If you think some government action is inevitable, you might instead point out that the most unambiguous public good is national defense. You might then suggest spending a good chunk of the stimulus on national security -- directing dollars to much-needed and underfunded defense procurement rather than to fanciful green technologies, making sure funds are available for the needed expansion of the Army and Marines before rushing to create make-work civilian jobs. Obama wants to spend much of the stimulus on transportation infrastructure and schools. Fine, but lots of schools and airports seem to me to have been refurbished more recently and more generously than military bases I've visited.

Again, I agree with parts of this. But the first paragraph's claims are too sweeping (for one thing, a smart small-government conservatism should be able to distinguish more explicitly than Kristol does between necessary bailouts and unnecessary ones - which is why the prospect of the auto bailout has been greeted very differently among the smartest libertarian bloggers than the financial bailout was), and the second paragraph's claims are ... well, frustrating is a word that springs to mind.

Too often, when domestic-policy debates come up, conservatives are far too eager to change the subject: The public says education; the Right say "let's talk about capital-gains tax cuts." The public says health care; the Right says "let's talk about terrorism." The public says infrastructure; the Right says ... "let's refurbish military bases"?? Apparently so.

There are very, very good reasons to think that the United States has a serious problem with aging transportation infrastructure, which happens to be an area where government by necessity has a substantial role to play. It would behoove conservatives, then, to join the debate over how to modernize our infrastructure - as, to their credit, some are - rather than just ceding the field completely to Barack Obama. Whereas trying to turn a conversation about highways, roads and rail into an conversation about why we need to spend more money on the military seems like a good way to convince Americans that the Right is pretty much only interested in talking about warfare and taxation, no matter what else happens to be on the country's mind.

Update: See Yuval in Kristol's defense.

Litmus Tests

To my comment that pro-lifers have spent most of their political capital over the last decade working within the Roe/Casey framework to push very modest restrictions on abortion, Conor Friedersdorf writes:

... pro-lifers have often made the compromises that Ross articulates insofar as they have focused on those issues. But are pro-life voters willing to elect politicians who favor legal abortion, but also support "modest state-level restrictions, from parental notification laws to waiting periods to bans on what we see as the grisliest forms of abortion"? My sense is that when it comes to politicians they are willing to support, pro-lifers aren't willing to back anyone like that.
Well, I suppose it depends on the pro-lifer. But there are plenty of politicians who fit Conor's description who've succeeded in Republican politics (and no doubt won more than a few pro-life votes along the way): I'm thinking of figures ranging from Kay Bailey Hutchison to Robert Ehrlich, from Jim Gilmore to Tom Ridge, to name just a few. (And that's to say nothing of straightforward pro-choice purists - ahem - Mitt Romney circa 2002.) Pro-lifers have worked hard to impose a litmus test, however modest - Bob Dole and George H.W. Bush were not exactly pro-life crusaders - for presidential and vice-presidential picks, because those are the offices with the power to shape the Supreme Court. But when you go down a level, to the GOP's senatorial and gubernatorial office-holders and candidates - the land where Specters and Murkowskis roam - it's hard to see much evidence that the party is being held prisoner by an unbending, litmus-test-obsessed pro-life movement.

December 7, 2008

A Movement That Can - And Cannot - Compromise

I have an op-ed in today's Times on what will be a familiar theme to most of my readers: The pro-life movement and the possibility of an abortion compromise.

December 4, 2008

The Kids Are (Comparatively) Pro-Life

Over at Secular Right - which I intend to read, er, religiously, though I'd rather its creators were expending their energy on a less self-segregated platform - Razib/David Hume wonders if there's any empirical evidence for the contention that the younger generation is more pro-gay but also more pro-life than their elders, and then conjures up with some data from the General Social Survey that supports the proposition:

abortionhomosexualit1.jpg Making the question about "abortion on demand" arguably tilts the overall results in a pro-life direction, but the intergenerational trend is notable no matter what. Other data I've seen - for instance, this Pew survey of "millenials" - suggests something slightly more modest: That teens and twentysomethings are no less pro-life than their elders, even though they're more socially liberal most other fronts. The deeper question, of course, is why this should be so - why are social conservatives holding their ground (and maybe gaining some) on abortion even as the country moves leftward on the nest of issues surrounding sexual orientation?

There are lots of possible answers, but the simplest one probably has to do with the nature of a liberal society, the kind of arguments that find traction in a liberal regime - and the kind that don't. Here I think it's worth quoting from an essay Peter Berkowitz wrote for Policy Review in 2005; he's talking about the Supreme Court's jurisprudence, but his arguments apply as well, or even better, to shifts in public opinion:

On the touchstone issues, the Court has given a substance to equality in freedom that has extended the protected sphere of individual choice and has expanded the privileged range of individuals who enjoy it. This in turn has prepared the way for further extension and expansion. The Court has done so in the face of respectable alternative interpretations of the substance of equality in freedom, which stress the social costs of expanding choice, particularly the damage done to the material and moral preconditions for maintaining a society of free individuals. Both interpretations of the substance of equality in freedom -- that which focuses on releasing individuals from fetters and that which concentrates on the need to restrain individuals and prepare them for the responsibilities of freedom -- belong to the liberal tradition. Yet in the contest between them, the liberal spirit naturally prefers measures that enlarge the realm of individual autonomy or promote a more egalitarian society over those that seek to contain the social costs of those measures and to conserve the background conditions that keep autonomy from deteriorating into anarchy.
But this tendency has very different implications for the debate over abortion than the debate over same-sex marriage. On abortion, it's unclear which side the "liberal spirit" should favor:

... we refer to conservatives on the abortion question as pro-life and progressives as pro-choice, yet both camps are pro-personal freedom. Proponents of a woman's right to terminate her pregnancy defend the personal freedom of women in the form of their interest in maintaining control over their bodies and their lives. Woman can enjoy neither freedom to live their lives as they see fit nor equality in politics and the marketplace, pro-choicers argue, if they must unwillingly carry a fetus to term and bear the burden of an unwanted pregnancy.

But conservative opponents of abortion also invoke personal freedom. They emphasize the rights of the unborn child -- who, they contend, is a living person in the morally relevant sense. While they do not reject a woman's right to control her body and determine the shape of her future, they do maintain that the unborn child's right to life supersedes it. Alternatively, conservatives invoke the freedom connected to federalism and self-government, arguing that justices of the United States Supreme Court, with no foundation in the Constitution, have invented abortion rights, thereby imperiously deciding a moral question that the Constitution leaves to the free choice of the people through their democratically elected state legislatures. Powerful conservative voices do oppose abortion on religious grounds, out of belief that the unborn child is an embodied soul, that is, even in the earliest stages of development, a unique human being. But when they participate in the public debate, the pronounced tendency of conservative opponents of abortion is to make their case in the language of freedom. This is certainly true when they sit on the United States Supreme Court.

Contrary to Professor Laurence Tribe, who famously argued that it presented a clash of absolutes, the public debate over abortion reveals a clash of competing interpretations of freedom. Or rather, it presents a tendency on the part of partisans to absolutize competing imperatives that arise out of a shared belief in the fundamental importance of freedom.
By contrast, Berkowitz notes, "is it is more difficult to translate arguments against same-sex marriage into the language of freedom," and the debate over gay marriage and gay rights tends to pit "liberal principles and goods on one side against some other kinds of principles and goods on the other." And in a liberal society, advancing "principles and goods" that partake of pre-liberal, non-liberal or illiberal premises is almost always a losing fight in the long run, because "the rights in terms of which the liberal tradition defines freedom are essentially expansive in nature, steadily eroding the limits on individual choice established by law and custom." This leads Berkowitz to conclude that "should the issue find its way to the Supreme Court, the ability of proponents of same-sex marriage to make their case straightforwardly in the language of freedom and the inability of opponents to frame their legitimate concerns in that language will likely result in same-sex marriage's being enshrined in the supreme law of the land." Whether he's right about that or not - and it's certainly been true in many state courts - I'm pretty sure his logic applies in spades to the court of public opinion.

There's an interesting philosophical argument among conservatives, especially of a traditionalist bent, about whether the anti-abortion movement, by advancing their arguments in liberal, rights-based terms, has essentially conceded too much to their opponents, and framed the debate in a manner that makes it impossible to win. I think the lesson of the debate over same-sex marriage, where the non-liberal argument started from a position of seemingly unassailable strength but has more or less crumbled over less than a generation of debate, is that pro-lifers are playing the best hand they possibly can. (For a more thorough go-round on this point, see this old exchange between Larison, Millman and myself, in which I quote the same Berkowitz essay; blog long enough, and you'll always come round to the same topics again.)

December 3, 2008

The Wire's Politics

Earlier this week, Jonah Goldberg brought up a perennial favorite topic around these parts, arguing that as much as David Simon's show was beloved by liberals, it was actually a powerful indictment of a liberal-run urban bureaucracy, and a corrective to various self-serving liberal myths about race, poverty, and crime. In a sense, that's all true! But as we ponder The Wire's crypto-conservatism, or lack thereof, it's worth quoting Simon himself (from an Atlantic comments thread, no less):

Writing to affirm what people are saying about my faith in individuals to rebel against rigged systems and exert for dignity, while at the same time doubtful that the institutions of a capital-obsessed oligarchy will reform themselves short of outright economic depression (New Deal, the rise of collective bargaining) or systemic moral failure that actually threatens middle-class lives (Vietnam and the resulting, though brief commitment to rethinking our brutal foreign-policy footprints around the world). The Wire is dissent; it argues that our systems are no longer viable for the greater good of the most, that America is no longer operating as a utilitarian and democratic experiment. If you are not comfortable with that notion, you won't agree with some of the tonalities of the show. I would argue that people comfortable with the economic and political trends in the United States right now -- and thinking that the nation and its institutions are equipped to respond meaningfully to the problems depicted with some care and accuracy on The Wire (we reported each season fresh, we did not write solely from memory) -- well, perhaps they're playing with the tuning knobs when the back of the appliance is in flames.

... If The Wire is too pessimistic about the future of the American empire -- and I've read my Toynbee and Chomsky, so I actually think a darker vision could be credibly argued -- no one will be more pleased than me as I am, well, American. Right now, though, I'm just proud to see serious people arguing about a television drama; there's some pride in that.
In terms of David Simon's personal politics, then, it's pretty clear that his critique of modern American liberalism is coming from a Naomi Klein-style place, or somewhere still more radical, rather than an Edward Banfield-type place. It's a testament to the genius of the show that its depiction of Baltimore (and by extension, America) offers fodder for liberal, conservative, leftist and libertarian readings - much like reality itself! In this sense, The Wire is the rarest and most precious of beasts: A work of art that's intensely political but rarely devolves into agitprop. But to the extent that any specific political vision undergirds its portrait of contemporary America, that vision is radical and revolutionary - though shot through with despair - rather than conservative.

November 26, 2008

Why The Right Needs Realists

I did a rambling, unfocused, "y'know"-ridden pre-Thanksgiving Bloggingheads with Matt Yglesias, in which among other things we discussed the way the Obama Administration seems to uniting realists, liberal hawks and progressives under a single foreign-policy tent:



As you can see, we both agree that this is probably an unsustainable state of affairs, but it's interesting to speculate about which ideological camp might drift back into the Republican Party over time. The easy answer is the realists - that's where they mostly came from in the first place, after all. But of course there's also a sense in which a certain kind of liberal hawk has more in common ideologically with a certain kind of neocon, on foreign policy questions at least, than realists and neocons have in common with each other. This is where the whole McLieberman notion came from; it's why Matt can write, plausibly, that, "on foreign policy, traditional Republican realists have a lot more in common with liberal Democrats than either do with Democratic hawks"; and it's why the following analysis from Michael Goldfarb has a lot going for it:

The liberal internationalists, led by Hillary, will also be a powerful force in the new administration, and in their battles with Obama's realists they may find willing allies among the neocons on the right. After all, liberal internationalists have been allied with out-of-power neoconservatives before, most notably during the fight inside the Clinton administration over U.S. policy in the Balkans.
On the surface, then, a long-term political sorting along Goldfarbian lines - with realists and progressives, both chary about committing U.S. troops abroad, associated with one political party, and liberal hawks and neocon hawks in the other - makes at least as much sense as the traditional progressives/liberal hawks versus realists/neocons alignment. But only on the surface. Ultimately, the two parties' foreign-policy elites need to map onto the two parties' domestic constituencies, which is why the McCain-Lieberman idea was a political non-starter: Yes, neoconservatives can cooperate with liberal hawks on specific issues, but they can't permanently share a political coalition, because on most other fronts liberal hawks are, well, liberals and neocons are conservatives.

True, some liberal hawks have a weak enough attachment to liberal domestic-policy goals to be comfortable shifting over into an essentially conservative coalition, just some neocons have a weak enough attachment to conservative domestic-policy goals to be comfortable shifting over to an essentially liberal coalition if it seems more welcoming to their foreign-policy ambitions. But for the most part, liberal hawks belong in a liberal party, not a conservative one, even if it leaves them sharing a coalition with progressives who disagree with them about where and when the U.S. should use force.

Likewise, realists ultimately belong in the conservative coalition - or at least some realists do. It's of course possible to be a liberal realist, rather than a conservative one - someone with wants left-of-center governance at home and balance-of-power calculations abroad - and some of the realist-oriented figures who've migrated toward Obama probably fit the "liberal realist" description. But the conservative coalition ought to naturally produce realists from its ranks, for their sake and its own, because realism's cold-eyed pursuit of the national interest is the most logical and productive elite-level expression of the Jacksonian, don't-tread-on-me nationalism that holds sway among a large swathe of the conservative base. Neoconservatism can and should speak for part of the American Right, but it can't speak for the whole of it; it's Wilsonian impulses will always be a bridge too far for many conservatives whose instincts run instead toward "to hell with them" hawkery. This "more rubble, less trouble" tendency within the Right's coalition needs to be channeled in a constructive direction by the right-wing elite, or else it runs toward jingoism and folly of various sorts. And such channeling is a natural job for a potent conservative realism, as is the task of balancing neoconservatism's tendency toward hubris and unrealpolitik. But within the right-wing intelligentsia, at the moment, it's a job that isn't getting done.

Huck and Sarah

From this week's New Yorker:

Asked about Sarah Palin, he responded, "She, uh, was an appropriate choice, because she put John McCain back in the game." That was the get-along answer, but a few minutes later the new, aggrieved Huckabee resurfaced. He recalled, "It was funny that all through the primary--I mean literally up until McCain got enough delegates to win--people said, 'You know, Huckabee's really running for Vice-President. Gee, Huckabee would be a great Vice-President.' And from that day forward, when I actually was no longer running for President, nobody ever said, 'Gee, Huckabee would be a great Vice-President.' " Neither was he quite so unperturbed by the Palin pick: "I was scratching my head, saying, 'Hey, wait a minute. She's wonderful, but the only difference was she looks better in stilettos than I do, and she has better hair.' It wasn't so much a gender issue, but it was like they suddenly decided that everything they disliked about me was O.K. . . . She was given a pass by some of the very people who said I wasn't prepared."
Hey, I didn't forget you, Huck! Meanwhile, Allahpundit notes that he has a point:

Er, what is the major difference between her and Huck, aside from the fact that he has much more executive experience than she does? He's impeccably socially conservative; so is she. He's questionable on amnesty; so is she. He's prone to anti-Wall Street rhetoric aimed at pandering to blue-collar voters; so is she. The big rap on him is that he's always seemed a tad too comfortable with regulation for Republican tastes, but he stridently opposed the bailout while she supported some form of intervention to avert another Great Depression. (She's opposed to additional bailouts.) It can't all come down to taxes, can it? The 'Cuda's record isn't spotless there, either.

He goes on to suggest that the big difference is a matter of tone: "Palin's charm rests in her perceived authenticity whereas Huck's guileless nice-guy persona is forever being undercut by sniping at Republican rivals and "innocent" misunderstandings that look suspiciously like sly, nasty attacks." Maybe - but Palin didn't seem to have much trouble working barbed remarks into her "authentic" rhetoric. I'd say the difference has more to do with the fact that Huckabee was running in a primary campaign, when both he and his Republican opponents had an interest in highlighting his deviations from party orthodoxy - in his case, to win favorable press coverage and separate himself from the also-ran pack; in their case, to undercut his appeal among ideological conservatives. Palin, on the other hand, was dropped straight into a general-election campaign, which created a completely different dynamic. Since she was standing in the way of Barack Obama's coronation, she took immediate and constant fire from liberals in a way that Huckabee never did, which endeared her instantly to conservatives who might otherwise have looked askance at her gubernatorial record and occasional campaign-trail deviations from the right-wing line. And whereas Huckabee actively embraced his role as a "new kind of Republican," the McCain campaign quickly gave up on its half-hearted attempts to portray Palin in that light, and instead ran with the narrative that she represented the beau (belle?) ideal of traditional conservatism.

Also, obviously, the personal details made a big difference. Huckabee had a good "up by your bootstraps" personal story, but Palin had a better one. A self-made Alaskan who hunts moose is more appealing/interesting than a self-made Arkansan who fries squirrel; the Down's Syndrome child trumps the weight-loss story; etc. And yes, yes, of course - if Mike Huckabee had been Michelle Huckabee instead, with heels and hair and sex appeal instead of a receding hairline, that would have probably given him a boost as well.

November 25, 2008

Best. Cabinet. Ever?

Ezra Klein throws some much-needed cold water on all the excitement about how smart and experienced and hyper-competent the Obama Administration is shaping up to be:

"Isn't it amazing," asks Krugman, "just how impressive the people being named to key positions in the Obama administration seem? Bye-bye hacks and cronies, hello people who actually know what they're doing. For a bunch of people who were written off as a permanent minority four years ago, the Democrats look remarkably like the natural governing party these days, with a deep bench of talent." That certainly feels true. But the Bush administration started out with a fairly deep bench. Colin Powell as Secretary of State. Paul O'Neill --a former deputy director of the Office of Management and Budget and a past chairman of the RAND Corporation -- as Secretary of the Treasury. Columbia's Glenn Hubbard as chair of the Council of Economic Advisers. Cheney, Rumsfeld, and Rice providing foreign policy expertise. Indeed, the Bush team was lauded for being such a natural entity of governance: These were figures from the Nixon and Ford and Bush administrations, and they were backed by graybeards like Baker and Scowcroft and Greenspan. What could go wrong?
In a related vein, a reader suggests re-reading David Brooks' recent column praising Obama's team ... and then comparing it to this 2001 piece Brooks wrote praising Bush's cabinet. The two pieces don't repeat themselves, exactly, but they rhyme - because the Bushies looked pretty good on paper, too.

November 24, 2008

The Moral Obligation To Study Election Returns

George Weigel, on the election and the Catholic vote:

This year, the pro-abortion candidate carried every state in what Maggie Gallagher calls the "Decadent Catholic Corridor" -- the Northeast and the older parts of the Midwest. Too many Catholics there are still voting the way their grandparents did, and because that's what their grandparents did. This tribal voting has been described by some bishops as immoral; it is certainly stupid, and it must be challenged by adult education. That includes effective use of the pulpit to unsettle settled patterns of mindlessness. This year, a gratifying number of bishops began to accept the responsibilities of their teaching office; so, now, must parish pastors.

In 1980, '84 and '88, Republican (and pro-life) Presidential candidates managed to capture nearly all of the Midwest and the Northeast, "settled patterns of mindlessness" notwithstanding. Now here we are twenty years later, with FDR and JFK even further in the rearview mirror - and yet Weigel wants to chalk up the Republican Party's horrible showing in these regions to mindless "tribal voting" among Catholic Democrats? This is self-deception, and it ill-behooves pro-lifers to engage in it. John McCain did not lose this election because the Catholic clergy failed to anathematize Barack Obama loudly enough, or because Pennsylvanians and Michiganders thought they were voting for Roosevelt or Truman. He lost it because his party flat-out misgoverned the country, in foreign and domestic policy alike, and because of late the culture war has mattered less to most Americans than the Iraq War and the economic meltdown. And pro-lifers who see the GOP as the only plausible vehicle for their goals have an obligation to look the party's failures squarely in the face and work to fix them, instead of just doubling down on the case for single-issue pro-life voting.

No, social conservatives aren't the problem for the GOP. But they haven't been the solution, either: Too often, on matters ranging from the Iraq War to domestic policy, they've served as enablers of Republican folly, rather than as constructive critics. And calling Catholics who voted for Obama "mindless" and "stupid" is a poor substitute for building the sort of Republican Party that can attract the votes of those millions of Americans, Catholic and otherwise, who voted for the Democrats because they thought, not without reason, that George W. Bush was a disastrous president whose party should not be rewarded with a third term in the White House.

Christina Romer, Tax Cutter?

Of the three big economic-team appointees Obama announced today, Christina Romer is the most obscure; she's also, as Mankiw, Wilkinson and Pethokoukis point out, the one who should give Americans the most hope that Obama won't be significantly hiking their taxes any time soon.   

JFK, Round Two

On the other hand, maybe the progressives are absolutely right to worry about what the Clinton-to-State pick portends:

George STEPHANOPOULOS, on GMA, re the president-elect and the economy: "He's already doing more than any incoming president has ever done this quickly ... One Obama adviser told me what they'd like is a combination of 'Team of Rivals' and 'The Best and the Brightest,' which was the David Halberstam book about the incumbent Kennedy administration.
As Jason Zengerle puts it: "Maybe the Obama adviser reading The Best and the Brightest hasn't gotten to the part about Vietnam yet."

Getting Out of Iraq

In a rare harmonic convergence, the Hillary-to-State news has Daniel Larison and Michael Goldfarb arguing along similar lines, joining the chorus of voices who see Obama's likely national-security appointments as a blow to those who hoped for a real progressive turn in foreign policy. Having basically made this argument myself, let me offer one thought by way of counterpoint - namely, that foreign policy is one arena where progressives might (might!) end up being well-served by having their agenda implemented by other people.

By "their agenda" I mean specifically the withdrawal from Iraq, which Chris Hayes, the world's smartest progressive, has long insisted is the one issue where Obama absolutely has to deliver for the left if he doesn't want to provoke a full-scale progressive revolt. As Iraq has grown more stable and the rest of the world more chaotic, it's become easy to lose sight of just how difficult disentangling ourselves from our Mesopotamian occupation may turn out to be. Both his own promises and the agreements we've made with the Iraqi government bind Obama to make the attempt: We will not, I'm certain, withdraw with the kind of haste that he promised in his primary campaign, but we will withdraw nonetheless. But there will be difficulties - maybe a lot of difficulties - along the way, and it's very easy to imagine a scenario in which the withdrawal from Iraq ends up dominating the foreign-affairs side of the ledger in Obama's first term, and not necessarily in a good way. And by putting the job in the hands of Robert Gates and Hillary Clinton - a Republican appointee and a primary-season rival who attacked him from the right on foreign policy - Obama has effectively given realists and liberal hawks partial ownership of whatever happens in Iraq between now and 2011. In a best-case scenario for progressives, Gates and Clinton will play the role Colin Powell played in the run-up to the Iraq War (except with a better final outcome, obviously): Their association with the policy will help keep non-progressives on board when things get dicey, and then once the job is done they'll be pushed aside and someone like Susan Rice will take over Obama's post-occupation foreign policy.

Obviously I don't really think it will work out quite like that. But just as the neoconservative agenda was better-served, at least in the short run, by having Powell as one of the public faces of Iraq War hawkery (rather than, say, John Bolton), I think there's at least a plausible scenario in which the progressive movement ends up being better off in the long run if Hillary Clinton, rather than someone to her left, is at the helm when a spasm of violence pushes Iraq back on to the front pages, and Republicans start accusing the Obama Administration of squandering the Bush-Petraeus gains with a too-precipitous withdrawal.

November 21, 2008

Democracy In America

Via Allahpundit, you too can play Minnesota Election Judge

November 20, 2008

The Legs of the Stool

Poulos, responding to this post:

Ross also claims that "Of the three legs of the modern right-of-center stool - social conservatives, small-governmenteers, and foreign-policy hawks - it's the hawks who almost always have the least to fear from savvy Democratic Administrations." But there are growing numbers of social conservatives out there -- including Catholic Democrats -- who actually do like the idea of universal health care and a New Deal for energy, and know they can't do much about the liberal judges who will prop up the incoherent and crippled Casey/Roe regime. And small-governmenters will continue to accept more cultural libertarianism for the void that political libertarianism used to fill -- bigger cages, longer chains, as some punks put it not so long ago.
I take James' broad point, but I was making a narrower one. It's certainly the case that a successful Obama administration has the potential to peel both socially-conservative and libertarian voters away from the Republican coalition, albeit for different reasons - as indeed, an ascendant Democratic Party already has. But I had the GOP's activist and journalistic core in mind - the people who staff think tanks and advocacy groups, who write for the Standard and NR, and so forth. And within that core, I think, you're a lot more likely to hear and see national-security hawks praising Obama, arguing that his foreign policy actually displays real continuity with George W. Bush's approach, and so forth, than you are to hear, say, pro-lifers praising his judicial appointments or small-government conservatives praising his budgetary priorities. Or put another way, I suspect that Obama will receive more kind words from Robert Kagan and Max Boot over the next four years than he will from, say, Robert George or Dick Armey. But obviously this is all supposition; time will tell.

Things That Could Have Been Brought To My Attention Yesterday

In today's Journal, Newt Gingrich and Peter Ferrara argue that instead of Barack Obama's hodgepodge of tax credits, we should have a straightforward middle-class tax cut that lowers the 25 percent bracket to 15 percent. It would also be nice, they note, to cut taxes for everyone else as well, and to lower corporate rates and capital gains rates. But "in the current political climate," they allow, "we should focus on the middle-income tax rates that are attractive to cut ... This would continue the tax cuts for low- and moderate-income workers Republicans have been adopting for 30 years now."

I'm very glad to see Newt Gingrich coming around to the idea that Republicans shouldn't just say "cut capital-gains taxes!" in response to every political and economic circumstance. I would have been even gladder, though, if he had come around during the 2008 Presidential campaign, when it might have made a difference. "Tax cuts for low- and moderate-income workers" was exactly the kind of thing the McCain campaign needed to be selling, and wasn't. Yet you can search Gingrich's pre-election commentary in vain for any hint that the "current political climate" might require that the GOP present a slightly different tax message than the one McCain was offering. Indeed, less than a month before the election, Gingrich and Ferrara took to the pages of the Weekly Standard to critique Obama's tax plan, and offer a conservative alternative to "benefit middle-America." Their alternative consisted of  ... corporate tax cuts, capital-gains tax cuts, and private accounts carved out of Social Security. 

I'm glad, as I said, that defeat seems to have had a clarifying effect upon Newt's views on tax policy. I'm just wish that his change of heart had happened when the GOP was still in a position to profit from his advice.

Barack Obama, Liberal Hawk?

Yglesias cries foul on my last post, with its prediction that Obama would end up earning a "strange new respect" among some right-wing hawks - and that he might even end up bomb, bomb, bombing Iran:

A phased withdrawal from Iraq plus a stepped-up campaign against al-Qaeda in Afghanistan and Pakistan wouldn't be a lurch to the right, that's what Obama's been calling for throughout the campaign. And, indeed, way back in 2002 he was saying that instead of invading Iraq, we should have a stepped-up campaign against al-Qaeda in Afghanistan and Pakistan. But add "authorize airstrikes against Iran" to the mix, and then you're talking about something entirely different. Obama made repeated, explicit promises during the campaign for a new approach to Iran, and the new approach wasn't "bomb, bomb bomb, bomb bomb Iran."
First, I should have been clearer: I don't think Obama is going to "lurch to the right," exactly, on foreign policy. Rather, I think there was an assumption among many on the right (and in some precincts of the left) that he would swing to the left once in office. That assumption always seemed to me more rooted in paranoia and/or wishful thinking than in Obama's actual rhetoric and proposals, and I think that the hints we've gotten about his personnel choices to date bear my assumption out. If Barack Obama's comfortable with the idea of Hillary Clinton as his Secretary of State, he's just not going to be the ridiculously-dovish President a lot of right-wingers kept insisting he might be.

The Iran issue is a separate and much more speculative matter, I admit, but here I think Matt and I just disagree about how to think about the incoming President's foreign policy vision. He sees Obama's various breaks with establishment thinking during the campaign as marking a real departure from the sort of liberal hawkery that made so many establishment liberals sympathetic to the invasion of Iraq. And I see them as representing a much more superficial departure, in which the lessons of Iraq are 1) don't invade Iraq and 2) take diplomacy more seriously that Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld did. These are, of course, perfectly plausible lessons to take, but they don't amount to a strategic rethink of America's approach to the Middle East, or the world. And they don't tell us that much about how Obama will handle the prospect of a nuclear-armed Iran - especially in a political landscape where letting the Iranians get a bomb might expose him to effective political attacks from the right. So in the short run, yes - I fully expect him to attempt the diplomatic offensive he's promised vis-a-vis Tehran, and obviously I hope that it succeeds. But I think there's good reason to expect that he'll fail, meetings with Ahmadinejad or no, and I think that both Obama's strategic premises and the hints we've had on his personnel choices suggest that if Iran looks poised to go nuclear in, say, late 2011 or so, nobody should be surprised at all if our new commander-in-chief decides that he doesn't want a nuclear-armed Iran as part of his legacy, and acts accordingly.

November 19, 2008

Eyes on the Prize

Jim Geraghty:

So Joe Lieberman is keeping his chairmanship of the Homeland Security Committee on the say so of 42 Senate Democrats AND President Obama; his Secretary of State might be Iraq War supporter and preconditionless-summit opponent Hillary Clinton; no one will be prosecuted for waterboarding, Bush's guy John Brennan may take over at CIA and Bush's man Robert Gates may stay on as Defense Secretary.

I don't know how the liberals feel, but so far the Obama administration rocks.
Michael Goldfarb:

Pardoning Lieberman, reaching out to Clinton, and keeping on Gates -- perhaps things won't be as bad as we feared.
I suspect we'll be seeing quite a few comments along these lines as the Obama Administration proceeds. Of the three legs of the rmodern right-of-center stool - social conservatives, small-governmenteers, and foreign-policy hawks - it's the hawks who almost always have the least to fear from savvy Democratic Administrations. And Barack Obama is nothing if not savvy.

Here's a fearless prediction: On an awful lot of issues, the Obama foreign policy will end cutting to the right of Bill Clinton's foreign policy, which was already more center-left than left. Even with the GOP brand in the toilet, Republicans are still trusted as much or more than Dems on foreign policy, mostly for somewhat nebulous "toughness" reasons. So why give the Right a chance to play what's just about its only winning card, when you can satisfy your base with a phased withdrawal from Iraq that's scheduled to happen anyway while waxing hawkish on Pakistan, Afghanistan ... and who knows, maybe Iran as well? (I have a sneaking suspicion that a President Obama will be slightly more likely to authorize airstrikes against Iran than a President McCain would have been.) Meanwhile, on detainee policy, wiretapping, etc. you can earn plaudits from liberals for showily abandoning the worst excesses of the Bush era, while actually holding on to most of the post-9/11 powers that the Bushies claimed. Obama already made fans of Niall Ferguson and Eli Lake; by 2012, I wouldn't be surprised if he's converted Max Boot as well.

And with his right flank safely guarded (assuming, of course, that Afghanistan or Pakistan or Iran doesn't become his Administration's Iraq), he'll have that much more political for the big-ticket goals that will guarantee his place in the liberal pantheon - universal health care, a New Deal for energy policy, a succession of young liberal judges who will tilt the Supreme Court leftward for a generation, etc. Among right-wing hawks, there will be strange-new-respectful talk about Obama's centrist instincts, his Scoop Jackson-ish tendencies, his Reaganesque blend of idealism, pragmatism and strength. Meanwhile, the rest of the right-wing coalition will be getting steamrolled.

The When and the Why of Abortion

Ed Kilgore:

Here is the real deal on abortion policy: activists on both sides of the abortion debate understand yet rarely acknowledge that a critical plurality of Americans don't much like abortion but care a whole lot about when and why abortions occur.  That plurality position, especially from the point of view of anti-abortion activists, is morally and metaphysically incoherent; if a fertilized ovum is a full human being with an immortal soul, and putative constitutional rights, then it doesn't much matter when or why it is aborted; the result is homicide. 

The RTL movement's focus over the last decade on restricting late-term abortions has thus been morally dishonest, but politically smart.  But they've missed the connection between "when" and "why" concerns.  Much of the popular support for so-called "partial-birth" abortion bans has flowed from a common-sense concern that unwanted pregnancies could and should have been avoided in the first place through birth-control methods that many RTL activists view as abortifacients, or through earlier-term clinical abortions. In other words, from a RTL point-of-view, the prevailing popular opinion is that women seeking late-term abortions should have instead committed homicide earlier, through either pharmaceutical or surgical means. 

But there's still another disconnect between RTL and popular opinion that goes beyond "when" questions: "why" questions. While public opinion research on this subject is terribly insufficient, I think it's plain that Americans care as much about why as when abortions are undertaken. Abortion-as-birth-control is unpopular (again, excepting the RTL presumption that many birth-control methods actually involve abortions). So, too, are "convenience" abortions: those undertaken for "lifestyle" reasons. But short of mandatory sodium pentathol doses for applicants for abortion services, it's very hard to legislate against the kinds of abortions that a majority of Americans would actually want to prohibit. 

A couple of points. Philosophically speaking, it may be true that there's a gulf between pro-lifers and some inhabitants of the mushy middle on the when/why issue Kilgore identifies: Pro-lifers obviously wouldn't endorse a "she should have aborted earlier!" theory of late-term abortions, but perhaps many Americans who support some abortion restrictions would. I'm not certain, though, whether this matters in practice when it comes to imagining legislative compromises that might be possible in a non-Roe/Casey world. Some Americans, myself included, would support a ban on second-trimester abortions because they favor any restrictions that expand the protections afforded to the unborn; others might support such a ban because they think unwanted pregnancies should be disposed of in the first trimester or not at all. But the end result would be the same - a shift toward a philosophically unstable but politically plausible middle ground on abortion - and of such inconsistencies are successful coalitions and compromises made.

It's harder, for the reasons Kilgore lays out, to envision a compromise based on the "why" issue - but perhaps not as impossible as he imagines. You could imagine, for instance, an America in which second-trimester abortions are straightforwardly illegal, and a series of surmountable impediments to abortion - for instance, a requirement that women obtain pre-abortion counseling that actively discourages the procedure - are thrown up in the first trimester, as they are in some Western European countries. (A commenter in the Schwenkler thread recommends Mary Ann Glendon's Abortion and Divorce in Western Law on this subject, and I second the motion.) Again, you could imagine pro-lifers supporting such measures on the grounds that they bias the law in a pro-life direction, and Kilgore's "when/why" pro-choicers supporting them on the grounds that they'd presumably help discourage abortions of convenience without actually preventing abortions of necessity. (In a similar "no abortions of convenience" vein, you could also imagine a law that banned repeat abortion - which is to say, almost half of all abortions in the U.S. - though obviously enforcement would be extremely difficult.)

As you might expect, given the foregoing, I don't see anything "morally dishonest," as Kilgore puts it, about the pro-life approach to partial-birth abortion. Yes, of course, the pro-life movement's goals extend well beyond restricting one particularly barbaric third-trimester procedure. But you take restrictions - and the opportunities to highlight the inhumanity of abortion - where you can get them, and there's no reason why pro-lifers have to preface every single argument they make against partial-birth abortion with oh, and by the way, you know we want most other forms of abortion banned as well. (It's not like the movement's goals are some big secret!) Consider: Would it have been "morally dishonest" for opponents of slavery to promote, say, laws prohibiting the flogging or castration of slaves, even though such laws didn't actually do away with slavery? Surely not - and even if such laws didn't directly free anyone from bondage, they would have been a plausible way of highlighting the basic inhumanity involved in owning slaves. And so it is with partial-birth abortion. All abortions involve the dismemberment and destruction of a growing human life; it's just that the partial-birth procedure makes the thing more explicit, and more horrifying. And even if all that a ban does is call attention to what's involved, more generally, in "terminating a pregnancy," that's a pro-life goal worth pursuing.

I think Kilgore is on stronger ground, though, with his critical references to pro-life attacks on the morning-after pill and (especially) the birth-control pill. My views on this subject are colored by the fact that I don't find the argument that either pill should be classified as an abortifacent particularly convincing, and I don't think the pro-life movement is helping its cause by blurring the lines between actual abortifacents, like RU-486, which are taken with the intent to abort an embryo, and contraceptives that are designed to prevent conception, but may have the secondary effect of preventing implantations on rare occasions. (At the moment, moreover, the evidence that this ever actually happens is relatively thin.) I think a pro-life movement that expends a great deal of energy campaigning against the pill is essentially assuming the permanence of Roe and Casey, and placing its hopes in a much broader cultural transformation that seems extremely unlikely at the present pass. It's behaving like a Church, in a sense, rather than a political movement, and I already have a Church: The point of the pro-life movement, as I see it, is to seek discrete and plausible political change, not to seek a revolution in the post-Sexual Revolution human heart.

November 18, 2008

Presidents and Heretics

If you're following the interesting debate over whether Barack Obama is a Christian, one thing to keep in mind is the extent to which heresy of various sorts pervades American Christianity at this point - and, moreover, the extent to which it cuts across confessional, cultural, and political lines. The Obama interview that provided the grist for this conversation does indeed suggest, as Larison puts it, that our President subscribes to some sort of semi-Arian conception of the nature of Christ, which isn't surprising at all given that he entered Christianity through the liberal-Protestant gate. But heresy of this and other stripes is hardly confined to liberal Protestants. Americans of all denominations are pretty murky about even the most important theological questions, and thus as likely to offer semi-Arian (or semi-Pelagian, or semi-Nestorian, or what-have-you) formulations out of ignorance as out of considered belief. And of course a distinctively American strand of heresy is integral to a large swathe of what we think of as "conservative" Christianity: You could call it Americanism or Moralistic Therapeutic Deism or something else entirely, but whatever label you choose it owes as much to Emerson, Hegel and Norman Vincent Peale as to Nicaea and Chalcedon, and its emanations and penumbras influence everything from the prosperity gospel to the foreign policy of George W. Bush.

Now it's true that if he had been asked about Christ's nature, Bush - or Ronald Reagan, to take another conservative President with an idiosyncratic religious sensibility - might have given a more Nicaean answer than Obama did in the interview in question. But then again maybe not! (And God only knows what John McCain, the most pagan Presidential contender we've had in some time, might have said.) Given the muddled way in which most Americans approach religion, and the pervasiveness of heterodoxy, I suppose I'm basically with Alan Jacobs: I think that figuring out exactly what sort of things Obama believes about God and Christ and everything else, and how those beliefs may affect his Presidency, is ultimately a more profitable pursuit than arguing about whether he should be allowed to call himself a Christian. Or put another way: I expect my Presidents to be heretics, but I think it matters a great deal what kind of heretics they are.

November 17, 2008

Abortion and the Art of the Possible

I want to take up a point the indefatigable Freddie DeBoer raises in the comments to the John Schwenkler post I just mentioned:

I just don't understand what a real compromise position would look like. To me, the question is whether a fetus is a human or not. If yes, abortion is horrific in almost every instance. That's why I think it's much more difficult for the pro-life side to compromise. I can certainly understand, and in certain cases would myself advocate, a call for the attempt to reduce the number of abortions, completely absent from defining a fetus as human. Whereas once you say that abortion is murder, I don't understand any morally sufficient compromise position. And it's both pro-life boilerplate, and explicitly stated in the Republican party platform, that the GOPs stance is that a fetus is a human. I know some people argue that you can think a fetus is a person and still have a compromise position. I just think that stance, frankly, is kind of loony, when you really consider the consequences of that thinking.
Except that we live in a pluralistic democracy, not under the rule of a philosopher-king, and the fact that compromises between factions with vastly different views on fetal humanity will inevitably result in philosophically-muddled legal regimes isn't a reason to prevent, via judicial fiat, those compromises from taking shape. Here's an (admittedly imperfect) analogy. Suppose you believe, as some people do, that health care is a universal human right, and that any death that could have prevented by a single-payer system is a blot on the human rights record of the country that allows it to happen. But then suppose you live in a democracy with no publicly-funded health care at all, and with clear majorities opposed to using public funds to guarantee universal health care - but with majorities that do seem amenable to some sort of very basic guarantee of health care to the aged, the poor, and the very young. Would it be "kind of loony" to compromise your firm belief in health care as a basic human right by supporting the creation of Medicare and Medicaid? Of course not: Any serious advocate of health care as a human right would take that compromise in a heartbeat, given the alternative, even though it's in some sense "morally insufficient" to what they'd like to see the government be doing. And likewise, I think most serious pro-lifers would welcome a legal compromise that moves the ball some distance toward a regime that's consistent with their view on feticide, even if the result is philosophically muddled (it's not as if the Roe-Casey regime is a model of philosophical rigor in the first place), and doesn't deliver full protection to the unborn.

On The Possibility of An Abortion Compromise

A fine post from John Schwenkler:

... if the pro-life position on abortion is unpopular, then so is the pro-choice one; or rather, each is unpopular under certain descriptions and popular under others, in ways I'll make more precise in just a moment. When you look at the polling on the issue, what you see is that while there may be a slightly higher preference for the "Always Legal" position than the "Never Legal" one, both of those positions together only make up somewhere between a quarter and a third of the electorate, the vast majority of which occupies the mushy territory in the middle. But - and this is the crucial observation here - the first of these views just is the view of the Democratic Party, since so long as Roe v. Wade and the body of jurisprudence that follows in its wake remains in place it is necessarily the law of the land that there can be no meaningful abortion restrictions whatsoever. And so to the extent that the GOP is the anti-Roe party while the Democrats represent the pro-Roe constituency, it is the latter position that is in fact the extreme one, while the former position is itself a mild step that is pretty much a prerequisite to the sort of compromise that Freddie suggests pro-lifers should be agitating for. (On which more, again, in just a moment.)

Secondly, however, the above observation is complicated by the way voters respond to questions about abortion rights when they are couched in terms of Roe itself: somewhere between a half and two-thirds of the electorate seems to be committed to the claim that Roe should not be overturned, despite the fact that such a position is directly at odds with many of those voters' commitment to the need for legal restrictions on abortion rights and the fact that Roe rules such restrictions out of court. The reasons for this inconsistency are manifold and not worth delving into at the moment, but the crucial point at present is just that the Democratic position in support of Roe is one that is popular despite the incompatibility of such a position with the middle-ground stance on abortion that is occupied by the vast majority of American voters. Put slightly differently, and by way of an entirely reasonable bit of speculation about the source of this inconsistency, the point is that the pro-life position on Roe is one that is unpopular only because voters think that overturning Roe would mean eliminating abortion rights altogether, whereas in reality it would make possible exactly the sorts of compromises that most voters claim to want.

Thirdly, and bringing both of these points together, I for one would be happy to see conservatives couch their arguments against Roe (or for a constitutional amendment that would disembowel it, on which topic see my exchange with reader Ed Baird toward the bottom of the comments here) in terms of the sorts of federalist or possibility-of-compromise language that I've been using here, but the fact is that I think Ross was right when he recently remarked (somewhere; I can't find the reference) that such a position would be politically untenable because it would jettison the support of the "extreme" pro-lifers whose dollars and voices presently keep the movement going. But if Freddie and others like him would really like to work toward some sort of compromise, the fact is that the first step will have to come from the Left, not by way of hollow talk of "reducing the need for abortions" (imagine if Civil Rights leaders were told to focus their attention only on the "underlying causes" of racism!), but by working to actualize the sorts of legal frameworks that would make genuine compromise - that is to say, the sorts of late-term-with-exceptions restrictions that Americans overwhelmingly support - possible.

Actually, I don't think I've said anything about the untenability of pro-lifers speaking the language of compromise, federalism, etc; indeed, I think given how adept many pro-life groups have become at pursuing the very, very incremental goals that are possible within the Roe framework (restrictions on partial-birth abortion, parental notification laws, etc.), it's not implausible to imagine them being willing to talk compromise more often on the bigger issues as well. Obviously it's a movement that tends to attract absolutists, but I think pro-lifers have been far more flexible and pragmatic in how they've pursue their goals - especially over the last decade - than they're often given credit for.

Meanwhile, Schwenkler's larger point is especially worth keeping in mind when confronted - as pro-lifers often are - with arguments like this one, from P.J. O'Rourke:

Take just one example of our unconserved tendency to poke our noses into other people's business: abortion. Democracy--be it howsoever conservative--is a manifestation of the will of the people. We may argue with the people as a man may argue with his wife, but in the end we must submit to the fact of being married. Get a pro-life friend drunk to the truth-telling stage and ask him what happens if his 14-year-old gets knocked up. What if it's rape? Some people truly have the courage of their convictions. I don't know if I'm one of them. I might kill the baby. I will kill the boy.

If we take O'Rourke's hypothetical on its own terms, it reads as an argument for, say, a legal regime that makes abortion available to women/girls below the age of consent - and I think I speak for many pro-lifers when I say that I would gladly entertain that sort of compromise, as part of a broader package of restrictions, if we were drawing up abortion law from scratch. But it's not even close to an argument for the legal regime we have, in which no middle ground is even possible. And so long as Roe remains inviolate, those who urge pro-lifers to "compromise" without providing any legal ground on which a compromise could be forged are effectively telling them to just give up on their movement's goals entirely.

November 15, 2008

Souls On Ice

"Few issues," Ronald Green writes, "are likely to generate more emotional opposition than federal funding of stem cell research." Fortunately, he has a plan for how Barack Obama should proceed:

Obama should minimize opposition by following the lead President Bush established in 2001. In justifying his policy of funding research on a limited number of human embryonic stem cell lines, Bush stated that "the life and death decision" had already been made on the embryos used to create those lines.

This is true of thousands of frozen embryos stored in fertility clinics around the country. More than 500,000 embryos created by in vitro fertilization to help couples have children are being stored. A large percentage of those embryos will never be used, because the couples have succeeded in having children, have given up or have grown too old to try. There is very little market for embryo adoption, so most of these embryos are destined to be destroyed. Circumstances have rendered the "life and death" decision on them almost as certain as it was on the embryos used before 2001 to make the stem cell lines that were approved to receive federal research funding.

By executive order, Obama could authorize the NIH to invite couples who planned to discard their frozen embryos to donate them for research. The couples would have to affirm that they no longer intended to use the embryos and had already decided to destroy them. Instead of the embryos merely being thawed and incinerated, as happens today, their cells could be used to produce lines for stem cell research. The moral parallel here is organ donation after death. In this case, the embryo's death is an unavoidable result of its creation and subsequent non-use for reproductive purposes. The production of stem cells from these embryos could easily be accomplished without federal support, and the resulting stem cells could be donated for federal research.

Like President Bush, President Obama could limit federal research to embryos created for reproductive purposes and abandoned before the statement of his policy. There are more than enough of these embryos to create all the lines we need for research. Under such a policy, there would be no use of embryos created with the intent of stem cell research.

Of course, when Bush talked about stem cell lines from embryos for whom "the life and death decision" had already been made, he was referring to embryos that were actually already dead. Whereas Green is redefining the phrase so that it refers to over 500,000 embryos that are very much still alive, and whose killing and subsequent dissection for (federally-funded) research is to be licensed on the grounds that "circumstances" have made their deaths "unavoidable." I think there's at least a slight difference between the two approaches.

Here I would ordinarily make some withering comment about the hollowness of the supposed "pro-life" case for Barack Obama, but in this instance it has to be allowed that John McCain's position was no better. Instead, as a counterpoint to Green's blithe and breezy take - "the embryo's death is an unavoidable result of its creation and subsequent non-use for reproductive purpose" - let me recommend (not for the first time) Liza Mundy's 2006 story in Mother Jones on America's embryo glut, and the moral dilemmas facing parents with offspring on ice. A few quotes:

... As with ultrasound technology--which permits parents to visualize a fetus in utero--ivf allows many patients to form an emotional attachment to a form of human life that is very early, it's true, but still life, and still human. People bond with photos of three-day-old, eight-cell embryos. They ardently wish for them to grow into children. The experience can be transforming: "I was like, 'I created these things, I feel a sense of responsibility for them,'" is how one ivf patient put it. Describing herself as staunchly pro-choice, this patient found that she could not rest until she located a person--actually, two people--willing to bring her excess embryos to term ...

... Dr. Robert Nachtigall, a veteran San Francisco reproductive endocrinologist, directed a study of patients who had conceived using ivf together with egg donation, another rapidly growing niche of fertility medicine ... Hard as it was deciding whether to go ahead with egg donation, these parents said, it was harder still deciding the fate of their leftover embryos

... Struck by these unprompted revelations, [Nachtigall] and fellow researchers decided to do a new study, this one looking explicitly at the way patients think about their unused, iced-down embryos ... Strikingly, Nachtigall found that even in one of the bluest regions of the country, which is to say, among people living in and around San Francisco, few were able to view a three-day-old laboratory embryo with anything like detachment ... Couples, he found, were confused yet deeply affected by the responsibility of deciding what to do with their embryos. They wanted to do the right thing. All of the 58 couples in his study had children as a result of treatment, so they knew, well, what even three-day-old embryos can and do grow into ... "Some saw them as biological material, but most recognized the potential for life," Nachtigall told colleagues at the asrm meeting. "For many couples, it seems there is no good decision; yet they still take it seriously morally."

For virtually all patients, he found, the disposition decision was torturous, the end result unpredictable. "Nothing feels right," he reported patients telling him. "They literally don't know what the right, the good, the moral thing is." In the fluid process of making a decision--any decision--some try to talk themselves into a clinical detachment. "Little lives, that's how I thought about them," said one woman. "But you have to switch gears and think, 'They're not lives, they're cells. They're science.' That's kind of what I had to switch to." Others were not able to make that switch, thinking of their embryos as almost sentient. "My husband talked about donating them to research, but there is some concern that this would not be a peaceful way to go," said one woman. Another said, "You start saying to yourself, 'Every one of these is potentially a life.'"

... Of the 58 couples Nachtigall and his group interviewed, the average couple had seven frozen embryos in storage. The average embryo had been in storage for four years. Even after that much time had elapsed, 72 percent had not decided what to do, and a number echoed the words of one patient: "We can't talk about it." The embryos keep alive the question of whether to have more children, a topic on which many spouses disagree. "I still have six in the bank," said one woman, who had not given up the idea of bearing them. "They call to me. I hate to talk about it. But they call to me."

Read the whole thing.

November 14, 2008

Jindal Tackles Health Care

This will bear watching

November 12, 2008

Should Conservatism Be a Movement?

I meant to say something earlier about Austin Bramwell's attack on the idea of a conservative "movement." He writes:

Movement conservatives have in fact produced few of the conservative ideas in general circulation. Even the movement's intellectual founders--men like James Burnham, Richard Weaver, and Whitaker Chambers--did their best work before they decided to pool their energies into a movement. Take any movement conservative position: the original insights usually came from someone with little initial interest in building a conservative movement. Originalism in constitutional law was developed by Raoul Berger, a Harvard liberal; free-market ideas by academic economists working within the mainstream of their profession; anticommunism by disillusioned leftists, only some of whom (from Chambers and Burnham to the later neoconservatives) went on to form or join the conservative movement; foreign-policy realism by émigré academic Hans Morgenthau ...

Only the non-movement conservatives have managed to upset the intellectual consensus, for they speak to the intellectual establishment rather than at it. Consider the major traumas of establishment liberalism: Jane Jacobs's Death and Life, Daniel Moynihan's 1965 Report on the Negro Family, E.O. Wilson's Sociobiology, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn's Harvard commencement speech, Allan Bloom's Closing of the American Mind. At the time, not one of these authors was known as a movement conservative.

This is an overstatement, but one with no small amount of truth to it. But I hardly think it's unique to conservatism, or uniquely damning as a critique. In most successful political movements, the big ideas precede the institutions designed to promote them - or put another way, the philosophers describe the world, and then their disciples set out to change it. It does not discredit the modern environmentalist movement, for instance, to note that Rachel Carson's Silent Spring wasn't published by the National Wildlife Fund.

Bramwell continues:

That leaves but one rationale for the movement: to preserve conservative ideas in an inhospitable world. No sentiment is more widely shared by movement conservatives than that they are an embattled minority fighting a hateful enemy. Yet none of the elements of movement conservative ideology by itself poses any career hazard. Mickey Kaus opposes open borders; Nicholas Wade of the New York Times and New Republic contributor Steven Pinker believe in the reality of race; Al Gore is a critic of modernity; Jewish atheist Nat Hentoff is pro-life; Bill Cosby excoriates black culture; Camille Paglia lambastes feminists; Gregg Easterbrook is a skeptic of environmentalism. Some movement conservative views, such as support for the free market, are firmly a part of mainstream discourse. Others, such as a fondness for tradition, can be found all over the political spectrum. On close examination, it is difficult to find a movement conservative idea to which mainstream organs of scholarship and opinion are actually closed.

Well, not exactly. The rationale for the movement and its institutions is to advance right-wing ideas, not to preserve them. And while it's true that many individual ideas identified with modern conservatism are held and defended by non-conservative thinkers, it's awfully hard to argue that, say, Nat Hentoff has done more for the pro-life cause than the National Right to Life Committee. If you want your ideas translated into actual policy, a few sympathetic columnists won't do the job: You need think tanks and activist groups and lobbyists. You need, in other words, a movement.

This doesn't mean that there isn't a broader truth to what Bramwell says next:

Take a hypothetical young talent with contrarian inclinations. Movement conservatives would counsel him to make his way up their ranks. But suppose he ignores their advice and joins the New York Times--or the Cleveland Plain-Dealer. There, even if he never classifies himself as conservative, he pursues stories that expose the perverse incentives of well-intentioned policies, the human costs of mass immigration, or the reality that, as Steve Sailer puts it, "families matter." Not only are his eccentric interests not a liability, they may even prove to be an asset. His ability to see the world differently gives him a monopoly on stories that his colleagues cannot or will not spot themselves.

If the climate of opinion ever shifts, it will be thanks to non-movement conservatives working within mainstream establishment institutions.

As a critic of right-wing cocooning (and the employee of a mainstream publication!) obviously I'm sympathetic to this argument. But I think Bramwell is setting up something of a false choice here. Consider the example I cited above, the environmental movement. On the one hand, there's a whole constellation of what you might call "movement" institutions, large and small, that have grown up to promote green ideas - the Sierra Club and the National Wildlife Federation, the National Resources Defense Council and Gristmill, and so on down the list. But these institutions haven't prevented the vertical integration, if you will, of people who share environmentalist premises into the New York Times and the Cleveland Plain-Dealer, or into any other establishment institution, from Harvard to Hollywood. Movement and non-movement environmentalism exist in symbiosis, rather than in tension: Reporters favorably disposed to green ideas cite papers from environmentalist think tanks; major universities run environmental studies programs that draw on the work done by movement environmentalism, and so on.

The same thing happened, on a much broader scale, with early-twentieth century progressivism, which had all kinds of movement-ish qualities but nonetheless managed to co-opt the establishment of its day. Indeed, nearly every successful movement, from abolitionism to gay rights, has advanced on two fronts simultaneously, creating new institutions and conquering old ones at the same time. And if late-twentieth century conservatism has been less successful in this regard than other mass movements - if we've reached a point where conservative institutions seem intellectually exhausted, but the establishment remains largely unconquered by conservative ideas - then the problem probably lies with the limits and weaknesses and contradictions of the American Right itself, rather than with the fact that it decided to sell out and become a movement.

November 11, 2008

Sarah Palin and the MSM

James Poniewozik and Jason Zengerle both note that (in Zengerle's words) "for someone who spent so much time railing against the mainstream media in the run-up to the election, Sarah Palin sure is spending a lot of time giving the dread MSM post-election interviews." Poniewozik notes that "she'll only have the white-hot pop-cultural attention--already starting to cool--for a while longer," so it makes sense to make the most of it. That's true enough, but I'd also note that a post-election goodwill tour might be Palin's best chance for a while to change the "Palin Rules" that have governed her media coverage since August - rules which state, so far as I can tell, that almost any negative claim made about the Alaska governor is to be published first and double-checked later. (The rules were set during the convention-week feeding frenzy, and excused on the grounds that the media had to play catch-up on an unknown nominee, but now that Palin's no longer a candidate for vice president they seem to still be in effect.)

The McCain campaign, in its infinite wisdom, decided that the appropriate response to this and other apparent displays of bias was to go to war against the press - and we all saw how well that worked out. It may be that unfair coverage of various sorts is just baked in the cake for Sarah Palin from now on. But if she wants to run for national office in the future, trying to charm the "elite liberal media" into changing how it covers her seems like a savvier bet than just complaining about its bias.

Newt and New Ideas

Those inclined to support Newt Gingrich's apparent bid to chair the RNC on the grounds that he's always flush with new ideas should go back and re-read the former Speaker's list, from back in May, of policy proposals that the GOP ought to embrace to avoid disaster in November. If you find Newt's manifesto - which urged Republicans to "overhaul the census and cut its budget radically," to "implement a space-based, GPS-style air traffic control system," and to double down on porkbusting, among other ideas - to be a plausible blueprint for a Republican revival, then he's your man. If you have the same reaction I did, though, you might want to root for Michael Steele instead.

A Foray Into Racial Awkwardness

Is there any way for a white American to say that the election of Barack Obama makes him feel happy for black America without sounding condescending, inappropriate, and weird? Probably not. (I think this Maureen Dowd column stands as a particular painful example of the genre, even though - or perhaps because - it strains for levity along the way.)

Nonetheless, I'll take the plunge and say that this Ta-Nehisi post made me feel, well, really happy for black America.

(Cringe!)

November 10, 2008

Jindal Takes A Pass

Why do conservatives hold out such hopes for Bobby Jindal? Because he's a smart, smart guy.

Closing Ranks

One thing that struck me while reading about last week's big right-wing activist summit is that the rumors of the looming conservative civil war may turn out to be greatly exaggerated. Oh, the pundits will fight, as they have been for a while, but for a serious circular firing squad you need the activist groups to turn on one another. You might think that a defeat like the one the GOP endured last week would prompt Grover Norquist to argue that the Republican Party needs to ditch its warmongers and its theocrats, or prompt Tony Perkins of the Family Research Council to argue that the GOP needs to ditch its flat-tax obsessives, or prompt the Federalist Society's Leonard Leo to complain about all those anti-intellectual hicks who loved Sarah Palin. But in practice the incentives probably cut the other way: Nobody wants to fire the first shot against their fellow movementarians, because then everybody else might just close ranks and train their fire in your direction. So the social-conservative activist groups will stand by the economic-conservative activist groups, and so on, lest they all hang separately - just as the Democratic Party's various interest groups all stuck together in the Eighties, holding firm to the belief that there was nothing wrong with liberalism that couldn't be fixed with more liberalism, rallying around Walter Mondale when that squishy centrist Gary Hart looked poised to knock him off in the '84 primaries, and going on, of course, to a resounding victory in the 1984 general election. Or something like that.

Regarding Douglas Kmiec

In response to those liberals who have written in taking me to task for refusing to give Douglas Kmiec's arguments the respectful consideration they supposedly deserve, I would suggest a thought experiment. Imagine that John McCain had narrowly defeated Barack Obama last week, and that Slate sponsored a dialogue on the future of the Democratic Party in which Joe Lieberman showed up to offer pious lectures on how the Democrats could retake the Presidency. Then further imagine that instead of being a hawkish liberal who supported John McCain because of their shared hawkishness - a position that's internally consistent, whatever else you think about it - Lieberman were instead a longtime anti-war voice in American politics, a Paul Wellstone or Russ Feingold figure, or even a strident pacifist. And then imagine that the Connecticut Senator had spent the campaign insisting that John McCain was actually the best choice, not for hawkish liberals, but for his fellow anti-war activists ... on the grounds, maybe, that Obama wouldn't really get us out of Iraq and Afghanistan, and that John McCain's "League of Democracies" idea offered the best blueprint for an end to international conflict in the long run. How much respectful consideration would Lieberman's arguments merit, under those circumstances?

Look, there are a variety of not-unreasonable ways for Americans who believe the unborn deserve legal protection to justify a vote for Barack Obama. But to claim that a candidate who seems primed to begin disbursing taxpayer dollars in support of abortion and embryo-destructive research as soon as he enters the White House somehow represented the better choice for anti-abortion Americans on anti-abortion grounds is an argument that deserves to met, not with engagement, but with contempt.

The Ironist-in-Chief

JPod, on Obama's Nancy Reagan line:

... I'm sorry he's getting hammered for it, because it made him seem like a more interesting person. Now, Obama is nothing if not an interesting person. His book Dreams from My Father is a very, very interesting self-portrait -- my friend Andy Ferguson has gone so far as to call it a "small masterpiece," which is higher praise than I would give it (and, moreover, from a source who is far less inclined to lavish praise than I am). But it is the nature of politics that it forces interesting people to turn into less interesting people, because displays of personality can always be taken the wrong way. Obama just learned a lesson about that, and it may force him to continue to keep his guard raised lest too many signs of his ironist's temperament emerge to give the 24-7 news maw something to chew over.
I agree. And Obama's "ironist's temperament" doesn't just make him a more interesting politician than your average baby-kisser: It has the potential to be crucial to his success as President. Mass democracy has a way of creating cults of personality around its most charismatic national politicians - we've seen this with the Kennedy brothers, with Reagan, and even with Sarah Palin - and it's very easy to imagine an Obama Presidency that ends up being captive to the unprecedented hero-worship he generates, and the image that his fans have of him as a transformational President even before he's taken over the Oval Office. I think something like this may have happened to George W. Bush in the aftermath of September 11th: The idea that his might be a world-historical presidency seemed to take over his actual presidency, to its great detriment. And where Obama is concerned, I think we should all hope that his more ironic instincts - his writerly detachment from the absurdities of politics and from his own celebrity - survive his ascension to the highest office in the land, as a useful guard against the hubris to which he'll otherwise be tempted.

November 7, 2008

Bloggingheads in the Time of Obama

On the day after the election, Robert Wright was kind enough to grill me about the GOP, Grand New Party, and related issues, and you can watch the results here.

Obama, Pro-Lifers and FOCA

Intemperate broadsides against Douglas Kmiec aside, I'll have more to say early next week, hopefully, about pro-lifers in the age of Obama. For now, let me quote Damon Linker, who notes that the Democrats didn't make much headway among the most religious - and by extension, most pro-life - Americans, and then offers the following advice to the Democrats:

Rejoicing in their victory, many liberals will be inclined to say good riddance to such voters. And this may make electoral sense. Perhaps the combination of long-term demographic trends and the incompetence of Republican governance over the past eight years have forged a center-left electoral coalition that will persist for years to come. Maybe the theoconservative base of the Republican Party will wither away on its own, now that it's been deprived of the oxygen of direct political influence. Perhaps the GOP will purge itself of its religious faction in the violent recriminations that have already begun, leaving devout Catholics and evangelicals to wander in the wilderness without a political home, much as Protestant fundamentalists did during the four decades following the humiliation of the Scopes Trial of 1925.

Maybe, but I wouldn't bet on it. As long as the Democratic Party continues to take its cues on social policy from those who refuse any compromise on abortion, it will give the Republicans the gift that keeps on giving: a large, stable, immensely loyal bloc of voters passionately committed to protecting (as they see it) innocent human life from lethal violence and those who champion the right to inflict it ...

It wouldn't take much to undermine the morale of a significant number of these ideological combatants, and perhaps even to inspire them to defect to the Democratic side of the aisle. For starters, President Obama could privately urge congressional Democrats not to take up the Freedom of Choice Act--a piece of legislation that, if passed, would instantaneously erase the (quite modest) legislative accomplishments of the pro-life movement over the past two decades and thus provoke it more effectively than anything since the Supreme Court's Planned Parenthood v. Casey decision of 1992 ...

Beyond that, Obama could follow the lead of Bill Clinton in combining a stalwart defense of the right to choose with an acknowledgement that the decision to have an abortion is a choice that troubles the consciences of many millions of Americans--including many millions who steadfastly support abortion rights. Clinton's "safe, legal, and rare" served him well in this regard, but surely an orator as gifted as Obama could forge an even finer phrase or passage of prose to capture the often tragic moral complexities surrounding this most divisive of issues.

To actually win more than a handful of committed pro-life voters, I think Obama would need to go a lot further than showing restraint on FOCA and forging some fine turns of phrase about the tragedy of abortion. But if all he wants to do is keep pro-lifers disheartened and demobilized, then following Linker's advice and reining in the pro-choice side's more maximalist ambitions seems like by far the wisest way to approach the issue.

Inequality and the GOP

Yglesias, Wilkinson and Manzi had an interesting round-robin on the subject yesterday.

November 6, 2008

Two Paths To Reform

The nice thing about a resounding defeat is that everyone can look at the exit polls and find confirmation that the GOP needs to do better among their favored constituency. I can read the exits and see a party that lost six points, compared to 2004, among voters making $30,000 to $50,000, seven points among voters making $50,000 to $75,000, six points among high school graduates and seven points among voters with "some college," and interpret all of this as evidence that the GOP needs to a better job of, well, winning the working class (and saving the American Dream!) David Frum, on the other hand, can look at polls showing that McCain lost three points among college graduates, nine points among people making $100,000 a year, and an astonishing seventeen points among people making over $200,000 a year, and argue that the party faces a stark choice: It can keep trying to maximize its share of the white working class vote, perhaps by nominating candidates like Sarah Palin, or it can make the wiser choice, in Frum's view, and try to win back rich, well-educated white Americans by embracing "painful change" on issues like the environment and abortion. (Frum's binary assumes, I should note, that the GOP can't improve its standing among Hispanics, at least in the short term.)

Now obviously a successful party would want to regain ground on multiple fronts at once - winning back working-class voters and wooing the college-educated and upper-income demographics. And obviously how you do this depends on who and where you are: A Republican running for office in, say, suburban New England will need to be more pro-environment and more pro-choice than the national party, and a GOP that's losing ground almost everywhere has every reason to be accommodating of regional differences - just as the Democrats have been of late, by mounting pro-life, anti-immigration candidates for office in conservative districts and reddish states.

But for the national party, Frum is right that there are real choices to be made. If you follow the Douthat-Salam model, which Reihan has dubbed "lower-middle reformism," you're going to be crafting a message aimed at the place where the non-college educated and college-educated categories bleed into one another - one pitched to the exurb-living college graduate who picked up a degree from a regional public university (or jumped from school to school and didn't finish in four years, like Sarah Palin), and who probably has more in common, culturally and economically, with a lot of grads of community colleges and technical schools than he does with someone who went to, say, Swarthmore. This approach requires talking a lot about the famous "kitchen table" issues - public education and transportation, crime and health care costs - and trying to expand the definition of what it means to be "pro-family" without abandoning the GOP's core pro-life convictions. If you follow the model Frum recommends in his column, on the other hand - call it "upper-middle reformism" - and pitch your message to the Obama-voting, ex-Rockefeller Republicans making $150,000 a year, then you're talking to a "post-material" group of people who worry less about day-to-day economic concerns and more about causes like global warming - making Frum's vision of a pro-choice, pro-carbon tax GOP a more plausible fit. (Frum has also proposed a fat tax, which is likewise something that seems most likely to appeal to the healthy, wealthy voters at the upper tail of the income and education distribution.)

Again, I don't think this is a completely either/or matter for the GOP. A party that restores its reputation for competence and policy seriousness, as the Republicans desperately need to do, will win back voters across the income and educational spectrum, no matter what specific positions it takes. But insofar as there's a choice to be made, I think building a coalition of social conservatives and social moderates from the middle of the income and education distribution makes much more political sense than trying to hold together a coalition of social conservatives from the middle of the distribution and social liberals from the upper end. Joe the Plumber and Joe the Office-Park Employee make much more plausible political bedfellows than Joe the Plumber and Joseph the Hedge Fund Guy. Moreover, I think a conservatism that's primarily oriented around the interests of the first pair of Joes is the better choice for America as well - because these are voters who face the most significant socioeconomic challenges in the current landscape, and who most deserve a government, and a right-of-center politics, that looks out for their interests. As a wise conservative writer put it not that long ago:

... The county's new wealth and diversity have created important new social problems. The schools are stressed. The roads are choked. Land use is more contentious ... For most of the Bush administration, G.D.P. grew strongly, the stock market boomed, new jobs were created. But the ordinary person experienced little benefit. The median household income, which rose in the '90s, had only just caught up to its 2000 level when the expansion ended in 2007.

... Between 2001 and 2008, the amount that employers paid for labor rose impressively, at least 25 percent. Yet almost all of that money was absorbed by the costs of health insurance, which doubled over the Bush years. In the 1990s, thanks to the advent of H.M.O.'s, health-care costs rose more slowly, so more of the money paid by employers could flow to employees.

Out of their flat-lining incomes, middle-class Americans have had to pay more for food, fuel, tuition and out-of-pocket health-care costs. In the past few months, they have suffered sharp tumbles in the value of their most important asset, their homes. Their mood has turned bleak. Almost 70 percent disapprove of the policies of George W. Bush. At intervals over the past two decades, Gallup has asked Americans whether the United States is a society divided into "haves" and "have-nots." Back in 1988, more than 70 percent of Americans rejected this description. This year, the country split evenly: 49-49. When asked, "Are you better off than you were five years ago?" only 41 percent of middle-class Americans say yes, the worst result since pollsters started asking the question half a century ago.

It's this pervasive economic unease that is capsizing the Republican Party ...
This writer, of course, was David Frum.

Obama, Abortion and the GOP

The Slate dialogue continues, and I say some very unkind things about Douglas Kmiec.

Losing the Youth Vote

Patrick Ruffini has the grisly details. Greg Mankiw ventures a conjecture:

Why? I am not enough of a political scientist to be sure, but recent conversations I have had with some Harvard undergrads have led me to a conjecture: It was largely noneconomic issues. These particular students told me they preferred the lower tax, more limited government, freer trade views of McCain, but they were voting for Obama on the basis of foreign policy and especially social issues like abortion. The choice of a social conservative like Palin as veep really turned them off McCain.

So what does the Republican Party need to do to get the youth vote back? If these Harvard students are typical (and perhaps they are not, as Harvard students are hardly a random sample), the party needs to scale back its social conservatism. Put simply, it needs to become a party for moderate and mainstream libertarians. The actual Libertarian Party is far too extreme in its views to attract these students. And it is too much of a strange fringe group. These students are, after all, part of the establishment. But a reformed Republican Party could, I think, win them back.
As a former Harvard undergraduate myself, I would caution Professor Mankiw against doing too much generalizing based on the political views of that institution's student body. Certainly younger voters in the aggregate are more socially liberal than their elders, especially on issues like gay marriage. But if you believe studies like this big Pew survey from 2007, they're more liberal on economic issues as well. For instance:

Gen Nexters are more pro-government than older age groups on several dimensions. They are much less likely to characterize the government as wasteful and inefficient. On balance, the general public agrees with the statement, "When something is run by the government, it is usually inefficient and wasteful" (55% agree vs. 41% disagree). A strong majority of Nexters (64%) reject this idea.

The views of the general public on this issue have shifted over time with fewer Americans now saying the federal government is inefficient and wasteful. But today's young people have a much more positive view of government in this regard than young people did a generation ago. In the late 1980s, 18-25 year-olds were evenly divided on this issue: 47% agreed that government is often inefficient and wasteful, 47% disagreed.
They're also more liberal on the environment, on immigration, government regulation of business ... really, on any issue you care to name, with two exceptions. One is Social Security: According to Pew, twentysomethings are much more likely to favor partial privatization of Social Security than older Americans (or at least they were before the bubble burst). And the other, pace Mankiw, is abortion: The report observes that "in spite of their more liberal views on other social issues, Gen Nexters do not differ from the rest of the population on the issue of abortion."

November 5, 2008

Sarah Palin's Next Act

Chris Beam and Allahpundit have smart takes.

America The Center-Left?

Mark Steyn:

As for us losers, there's no point us going down the right-wing version of Bush Derangement Syndrome. Any shrill vicious ad hominem invective would be much better directed at each other. The Republicans lost this election. I disagree with Lisa. I think we are near a point at which America joins the rest of the west as a center-left society - that's to say, a society whose assumptions about the role of government and the size of the state are far closer to Continental social democracies than to the Founding Fathers. In a grim media-cultural environment, the temptation for American conservatism is to be seduced into becoming one of those ever so mildly right-of-left-of-right-of-left-of-center parties they have in Europe. We should have the fight about conservatism's future vigorously and openly - perhaps at Bud's Roadhouse out on Route 137 in lieu of All-Girl Mud-Wrestling Night.
I actually share Steyn's diagnosis of where America might be going. (And I'm a big fan of Bud's Roadhouse.) The difference between us, I think, is that I look at the current landscape and see an America where a certain amount of flexibility, pragmatism and new thinking among conservatives - as opposed to Jeff Flake standing athwart earmarks yelling stop - is a prerequisite for restraining the slow slide to the center-left, whereas Steyn seems sees the push for reform itself as symptom of that slide. But at least we've achieved some degree of consensus!

The Conservative Future

I'm participating in a Slate discussion about the Right's future over the next two days. My first contribution is here; I highly recommend Jim Manzi's post; and I'll have something to say in response to Doug Kmiec's contribution later on.

It Could Have Been Worse

The electoral college was a blowout, but it looks like I came pretty close calling a 52-47 split in the popular vote. Turnout wasn't all that much higher than in 2004, which means the Democrats did not suddenly discover a vast new untapped source of votes that will change American politics for a generation. If Gordon Smith, Norm Coleman, Saxby Chambliss and Ted Stevens (oy) hold on, then the Republicans will have come out of this better, perhaps, than could have been reasonably expected.

Is this cause for conservative encouragement? Well, maybe. "They won't have another chance quite like this one for a long time," David Freddoso writes of the Democrats. That's probably true. But a lot depends, as I suggested a month ago, on whether this year ends up for Republicans like the Democrats' 1980, or the Democrats' 2004. And if it's like 1980, which I suspect it is, then it's very easy to imagine the Republicans telling themselves "hey, things could have been worse" all the way to a Mondale-style drubbing four years from now. (It's pretty easy to see that scenario shaping up, for instance, in some of the Palin-in-2012 playbooks currently circulating.) Events, and the effectiveness of Obama's Presidency, will shape the GOP's future, but so will the choices made by figures like Palin and Mike Huckabee, Mitt Romney and Bobby Jindal - and they should choose with the lessons of the Eighties Democratic Party uppermost in their mind.

Remarkable

I hope I will be forgiven a touch of hyperbole when I say that it's hard to imagine a more inspiring back-to-back of political addresses than McCain's concession and Obama's victory speech.

God bless America, and good night.

November 4, 2008

Congratulations, President-Elect Obama

Like many conservative writers, my good opinion of Barack Obama diminished somewhat over the course of the campaign. Part of this was the inevitable hardening of the partisan arteries that takes place during a Presidential year, but part of it was that Obama's particular gifts - his combination of charisma and thoughtfulness, and his ability to project sympathy for positions he does not himself hold - created unreasonable initial expectations for the kind of actual compromises he might make with conservatives. You start with the fact that he seems to understand your side of the argument, and the next thing you know you're imagining scenarios in which he moves the Democratic Party to the center on abortion, or comes out against race-based affirmative action, or offers some other grand, conciliatory gesture that you'd like to see American liberalism make.

None of this was ever terribly plausible, of course, given Obama's actual record - and it was especially implausible in a year when running as a "generic Democrat" has such obvious upsides. Obama moved to the center on issues where Democrats more or less have to be move to the center - making hawkish gestures on foreign policy, promising middle-class tax cuts, etc. - but there was never any way that he was going to live up to the hopes of the various conservatives who said favorable things about him in the early going (unless they engaged in outright self-deception, as some did). Unlike previous Democratic nominees, Obama was operating in an environment where his side had the upper hand on almost every issue, and there was actually more risk than reward involved in straying too far off the liberal reservation. And the campaign he ran reflected that reality, rather than living up to its initial promise to transcend the left-right divide.

So I was disappointed in Barack Obama, but I also realize that his campaign wasn't addressed to me: It was addressed to the constituents of a potential center-left majority, and that's the majority he won tonight. Whether this majority holds together will depend on how he governs, but for the moment he has achieved something that no Democratic politician has achieved in a generation: He's carved out a mandate to take America at least some distance in a leftward direction, and he has left the conservative opposition demoralized, disorganized, and arguably self-destructing. Obviously, this achievement was made possible by the blunders of his predecessor, the floundering of the McCain campaign, and the good fortune of running against the incumbent party during the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression. But great politicians are almost always lucky politicians, and Obama's good fortune does not diminish the magnitude of his triumph tonight, and the credit that he and his campaign deserve for the race they've run.

And then, of course, there's the fact that Obama has just been elected President of a nation in which he could have been bought and sold as a slave just seven generations ago. I don't think there are any words adequate to the occasion of America electing its first black President, so I'll just say this: This may be a bleak day for the Republican Party and for conservatism, but come what may in the years ahead, it's a great day for our country. Barack Obama deserves congratulations, tonight, but so does the nation he's about to govern: We've come a long, long way.

The End of An Endless Campaign

Matt Continetti ponders the long, long road to today's decision:

It's worth revisiting why this has been a long campaign. The reason has nothing to do with when the primaries were scheduled. The early primaries were a symptom, not a cause. The cause is Bush. Starting with Hurricane Katrina, a large portion of the country simply wrote off Bush's presidency. That grew worse as the Iraq war worsened and the Democrats took Congress in 2006. As Jeffrey Bell has pointed out, Bush's dismal popularity has driven all politics ever since. It is the country's desire to move beyond Bush, as well as his lack of a successor, that has made this election last so long and propelled Barack Obama to the edge of the presidency. For these reasons alone, George W. Bush is one of the most consequential presidents in history.

No matter who wins today, Bush has only two-and-a-half months left as president. The Bush effect on American politics will vanish. His successor will determine the next debates, issues, controversies, and scandals. And he will likely be far more popular than Bush 43. The next campaign will not be as long as this one.

Not that this wasn't fun and all, but here's hoping he's right ...

Ideology And Policy

While we wait for history (of some sort, either way) to be made, I just wanted to pull out this passage from Yuval's post yesterday on the looming fights over how to reform conservatism:

... these fights need to be had on substantive grounds. Rush Limbaugh and Ross Douthat may disagree about what was best about Ronald Reagan, but do they disagree about the McCain health care plan? I think they don't. The challenge for conservatives if we find ourselves in the minority in the next few years will be to offer substantive conservative-minded specifics as alternatives to the Democrats' proposals. The philosophical arguments about the nature of conservatism are important and interesting, we all should and will engage in them. How could we resist? That we have such arguments is one of the greatest strengths of the conservative movement in America. But they will not yield conclusions, and in themselves they won't do much either way for our electoral fortunes either. Substantive ideas and arguments will, and they will help conservatives unite as well. How and why social, fiscal, and national security conservatives belong under one tent is a lot harder to argue in theoretical terms than it is in practical terms. And there is a deep conservative philosophical truth there, a Burkean truth: politics must be practical and not just theoretical.
I agree - but I trust Yuval would agree with me when I note that in the end, forging a new Republican agenda will require right-wingers to make ideological compromises about what conservatives should stand for, and not just transcend their differences through really smart policy. Ramesh Ponnuru can design and redesign his family-friendly tax proposals to his heart's content, but he isn't going to persuade Kimberley Strassel on the merits unless she and the rest of the Wall Street Journal editorial board become convinced that they need to significantly temper their vision of a GOP oriented around supply-side purism. (Or to take the matter in reverse, no brilliantly-designed new set of tax proposals from the WSJ crowd is likely to persuade Ramesh that the GOP's big problem is too much "braying" against abortion.) Similarly, Jim Manzi can propose new directions for the Right on global warming until the polar bears come home, but he and Rush Limbaugh aren't going to agree on policy so long as Rush persists in his view that climate change is just a liberal hoax. And so forth.

There are some debates where policy innovation can help right-wing thinkers find common ground, certainly - especially in cases like health care, where the intra-conservative battle lines aren't already drawn in blood. And policy innovation is a good thing no matter how much common ground it generates in the "whither conservatism" debates. But no matter how smart the wonks involved, there are going to be a lot of issues where the right-of-center candidates of the future are just going to have to decide in one side's favor, and let the other side(s) gnash their teeth.

The Audacity of Timing

Alex Massie has a long, thoughtful post on how the man and the moment (seem to) have met - and a shorter post pointing out how fortunate Obama was to lose in his first try at national office.

It's a Wonderful Movie Reference

I like Edward Rothstein's columns and I enjoyed this piece, but I feel like somebody else got there first.

The Nightmare Scenario

It almost goes without saying, but John Podhoretz offers some reasons (and there are more, I think) why nobody should be rooting for a McCain victory in the electoral college if he can't win the popular vote.

November 3, 2008

Around the Horn

For election eve, a potpourri of links related to the future of the Right ... 

... Yuval Levin, who's almost always more sanguine than yours truly, discusses what reform conservatism might mean. (And see Jonah Goldberg's response as well.)

... Allahpundit parses the final Fox poll, and offers some astute thoughts on how the Joe the Plumber gambit and the selling of Sarah Palin worked out - or didn't.

... Peggy Noonan and Kathryn Jean Lopez, in conversation.

... Bill Voegeli on how to reform Big Government.

... Tucker Carlson talks Romney and 2012; Reihan talks Mitch Daniels.

And finally, my prediction for tomorrow: Obama 52, McCain 47, and the following electoral-vote breakdown:

Madelyn Dunham, RIP

This is simultaneously immensely, immensely sad, and such a remarkable coincidence as to feel like a small, inscrutable brush stroke of Providence.

(Don't start with me, Hitchens ...)

Reasons To Welcome a Liberal Era

Less conservative-bashing in the popular culture, and more stuff like this:



Lost Horizons

I had a succession of meals last week with smart conservative friends, and I found them all relatively sanguine about the defeat that's almost certainly about to be inflicted on the American Right. Each of them, in different ways, express a mix of enthusiasm for the "whither conservatism" battles ahead and relief at the prospect of finally closing the books on the Bush years. This has been an exhausting Presidency for conservatives as well as liberals, and for many people on the Right the prospect of being out of power has obvious upsides: No longer will every foul-up and blunder in Washington be treated as an indictment of Conservatism with a capital C; no longer will right-wingers feel obliged to carry water, whether in small or large amounts, for a government that's widely perceived as a failure; and no longer will the Right have the dead weight of an unpopular president dragging it down and down and down. Defeat will be depressing, of course - none of my friends were Obamacons by any stretch - but it could be liberating as well.

This was how I expected to feel about a McCain defeat, too, and I've been trying to figure out why I don't - why I feel instead so grouchy and embittered (clinging to my guns and my religion, and all that), and more dispirited than liberated. I didn't have particularly high hopes for a McCain-led ticket in the first place: I never went in for the Mac-worship many journalists have practiced over the years, and part of me was dreading having to spend four years trying to explain that yes, I want a reformed conservatism, but no, I don't like the kind of reform-ish quasi-conservatism that the McCain Administration is advancing. And then there were all the other reasons to think that a GOP defeat might not be so bad: You can't win every election; it's hard for a political party to change its ways without the clarifying effects of a devastating defeat; Obama's a smart guy who'll probably make at least some policy choices I support; the election of a black President will be a great day for America; etc.

And yet here I am, sour and world-weary. Part of it, I'm sure, has to do with the pace and rhythms of blogging, which even at my extremely sedate clip is wearing after a while: I feel like I've gone round and round on the same points and controversies for an eternity already, and the prospect of going round and round for years to come ... well, let's just say I'm thinking of mainly writing about the movies for the next decade or so. And part of it probably has to do with the madness that afflicts anyone who writes a book offering advice to politicians. Every pundit labors under the delusion that if only his favored candidates would listen to him, they'd win every election and get every policy decision right - and this goes double, if my own experience is any guide, for pundits who write books that come out in election years. I've been more frustrated with the McCain campaign than with any previous ticket, I think, in part because some delusional part of my subconscious doesn't understand why they can't just let me take over their campaign and set things right. After all, I wrote a book! Come on, people!

And then, of course, there's the whole Sarah Palin business, where a politician I liked and touted from afar ended up as a hate figure to many Americans, a late-night punchline to many more, a deranging influence on a number of writers and the locus for an incredibly wearying internecine feud among right-wing pundits. (Which is to say, maybe it's a good thing the McCain campaign didn't listen to my other suggestions ...)

But I think the deeper reason for my political gloom has to do with something that Jonah Goldberg raised in our bloggingheads chat about conservatism - namely, the sense that the era now passing represented a great opportunity to put into practice the sort of center-right politics that I'd like to see from the Republican Party, and that by failing the way it did the Bush Administration may have cut the ground out from under my own ideas before I'd even figured out exactly what they were.  As I said to Jonah. I have all sorts of disagreements with the specific ways President Bush attempted to renovate the GOP, on the level of policy and philosophy alike. But the fact remains that the renovation Bush attempted was an effort to respond to some of the political, social and economc trends that Reihan and I discuss in Grand New Party - and those of us who want a reformed conservatism have to recognize Bush's attempt, and reckon with his failure.

This is by no means a new insight, but it's one that's been brought home to me by the looming end of the Bush Era and the struggles of the McCain campaign. Conservatism in the United States faces a series of extremely knotty problems at the moment. How do you restrain the welfare state at a time when the entitlements we have are broadly popular, and yet their design puts them on a glide path to insolvency? How do you respond to the socioeconomic trends - wage stagnation, social immobility, rising health care costs, family breakdown, and so forth - that are slowly undermining support for the Reaganite model of low-tax capitalism? How do you sell socially-conservative ideas to a moderate middle that often perceives social conservatism as intolerant? How do you transform an increasingly white party with a history of benefiting from racially-charged issues into a party that can win majorities in an increasingly multiracial America?  etc.

Watching the McCain campaign, you'd barely even know that these problems exist, let alone that conservatives have any idea what to do about them. But there were people in the Bush Administration who did understand the situation facing the Right, and set out to wrestle with these challenges - and as a result, George W. Bush had a real chance (especially given the political capital he enjoyed after 9/11) to establish a model for center-right governance in the post-Reagan era. That he failed is by no means the greatest tragedy of the last eight years, but it is a tragedy nonetheless - for conservatives, and for the country.

I'm not counseling despair here: There were people in 1976 who thought Richard Nixon had irrevocably squandered the chance to build a new right-of-center majority, and looked how that turned out. But for now, as America goes to the polls, I find myself stuck thinking about the lost opportunities of the last eight years, and the possibility that they may not come round again.

November 1, 2008

Missing Karl Rove

After the election we're going to read a lot of analyses like this one from Mark McKinnon, arguing that second-guessing is unfair, and that in an impossible year for Republicans, Steve Schmidt and company did the absolute best they could. Today, before McCain roars back in the last three days and renders all the second-guessing moot (feeling jumpy, liberal America?), I want to draw a line in the sand and say No. Allowing that this was a hard time for a Republican to run for President, and allowing that Barack Obama might well have won the White House no matter what McCain did, it's still the case that this has been a lousy, lousy conservative campaign for the Presidency. (Poulos' line about how it's been consistently "flying beneath the pride of conservatives and Republicans" seems like a good way of putting it.) I've defended the McCain folks against the liberal hysteria that treats this as the Most Evil Right-Wing Campaign Ever, and I'd defend them again. But that famous line from Talleyrand - it was worse than a crime; it was a mistake - seems applicable here: It's been worse than an evil campaign; it's been a dumb one.

Not always and everywhere: There were moments when the frantic tactical improvisation worked out well (the "celebrity ad," for instance), and McCain's convention speech was well-crafted and well-aimed, and the Palin pick was the right kind of gamble, I think, even if it was taken without adequate preparation and/or consideration of what they might be getting themselves into. But in the aggregate ... well, I always thought that Karl Rove's political genius was overrated, and that huge political opportunities (to say nothing of policy opportunities) were left on the table during the campaigns of the Bush years. And obviously Rove, Ken Mehlman and company were running campaigns in considerably more favorable political environments. But watching the McCain-Palin ticket stagger through the closing months of this campaign, pinning their hopes on a working-class backlash against the progressive income tax in a state that no Republican has carried in twenty years, has given me a newfound appreciation for Rove's abilities: He might not have found a way to win in 2008, but I don't think his efforts would have been quite so embarrassing to watch.

Maybe I should insert a caveat here, something along the lines of "if McCain wins on Tuesday, Schmidt and Co. are geniuses after all." But the only way McCain wins, so far as I can tell, is if Russia invades Western Europe on Monday, or if the America that shows up to vote next week looks and votes not at all like the America that's been showing up in polls and surveys and every other indicator that political professionals have to work with. Maybe it will: Maybe there are unmappable effects at work in this race, and maybe after Tuesday the entire polling industry will have to close up shop in disgrace. But the job of a campaign is to put their candidate in a position to win with the electorate as it's possible to understand it, not with some hypothetical electorate that might emerge to save you from the fate that all the indicators predicted. Rove succeeded at that task; the McCain campaign appears to have failed. Which means that if they win on Tuesday, it won't be because they were better than we thought they were, but because they were luckier - luckier than we thought, and luckier, as well, than basically every Presidential campaign in the modern history of America.

October 31, 2008

Too Soon To Tell

I've written before about Jonathan Haidt's view that our moral impulses can be grouped into five categories, two "liberal" (harm/care, and fairness/reciprocity) and three "conservative" (ingroup/loyalty, authority/respect, and purity/sanctity) - and I've argued before with Will Wilkinson about whether it's possible to envision a successful society in which the liberal impulses dominate completely, and the conservative impulses are stigmatized and/or essentially disappear. Haidt, for his part, thinks that it probably isn't; here's Will arguing with him:

Frankly, I find this extremely unconvincing, and I daresay even pernicious ... What Jon needs to show is that there is a threshold on the conservative channels of the moral equalizer below which social stability is threatened. In the talk, he barely gestures toward evidence to this effect ... Indeed, my sense is that the societies in which the space between high liberal settings and low conservative settings is the greatest-that is, the most imbalanced-are by and large the best places for human beings to live. 

My own view is that there is a distinctive form of liberal order achieved by extended market societies. As Hayek noted, the decisive shift in human history was the shift (in some places) between personal to impersonal exchange. And part of this is a shift from personal to impersonal mechanisms for achieving order. If the conservative dimensions are so important, Jon needs to explain why the people of the advanced market democracies are so much more liberal than they used to be, so much less conservative, and yet so much less disordered (i.e., less violence, less war, etc.) 

I think the answer is that in Hayek's "extended order," the conservative sentiments play a relatively small and decreasing role. A more thoroughly liberal moral culture evidently not only sustains order, but sustains an order that leaves us healthier, happier, and orders of magnitude wealthier. If cranked-up conservative sentiments were necessary to sustain that order, then their decline would indeed endanger us, and could not constitute moral progress. But insofar as they have become superfluous, the failure to further suppress them is a failure of further moral progress. This is not a story of liberal/conservative Yin and Yang. This is a story of Yin devouring Yang. 

I admire Jon's anthropologist's impulse to take the variety of moral cultures seriously, and to take our own society's mostly intra-liberal moral pluralism seriously. But I think he's making a mistake if he think his work points toward the importance of the conservative sentiments. It's pointing me toward a clearer grasp of the ecological conditions under which those sentiments are functional and adaptive. And we aren't in them. When we recognize that, in the advanced world, those conditions have largely vanished-when we recognize that is partly what makes it the advanced world "advanced"-the question cannot be "Why do we need to respect tribalism, subordination, and moralized disgust?" The question is what to do with impulses that now hurt more than help, but are written into us anyway. 

I have a Fukuyaman streak that thinks Will might be be proven right about this in the long run - that the levels of wealth generated by market capitalism will rise and rise, cushioning away the impact of any negative externalities that the "conservative" moral instincts may be evolved/designed to guard against. But I also think that it's way too soon for the partisans of a purely liberal order to get cocky. The liberal impulses have been gaining ground against the conservatives ones ever since Christianity came on the scene, but they started from a pretty weak position: It took them the better part of two thousand years to reach parity, and only in the twentieth century did they really gain the upper hand, making it possible for Will and others to fantasize about a world in which the non-liberal sentiments can be ignored and/or discarded. Today, the world's most liberal societies are still only a couple generations deep into a massive experiment in the kind of social organization that Will favors, and I'm not sure that results to date are a guarantor of future returns.

Take the Sexual Revolution in the United States, for instance - which represented a massive ratcheting down of the "purity/sanctity" index, to borrow Haidt's terms, and a ratcheting up of a more "liberal" approach to sexuality. If you'd freeze-framed America in 1991 or so, a generation into this particular experiment in a more liberalized morality, it wouldn't have been hard to make the case that the costs were exceeding the benefits: Alongside the increase in sexual freedom, you had skyrocketing divorce, teen pregnancy and out-of-wedlock birth rates, rising rates of STDs alongside the then-uncontainable plague of AIDS, a thirty-year crime wave that many social scientists believed would be compounded by a new generation of "super-predators," and various other stark indicators of social decline. Flash forward fifteen years, of course, and things look much better on many of these fronts, which has prompted various people to argue that we've passed through what Francis Fukuyama terms a "Great Disruption" (and then through what Tom Wolfe famously called a "Great Relearning") and reached a stable post-Sixties equilibrium. But there are still reasons - some of which are detailed in Grand New Party - to be pessimistic, or at least not completely optimistic, about the long-term consequences of the Sexual Revolution. Yes, there's much more reason for optimism today than there was in 1991. But I don't think the trends that produced a great deal of early-1990s declinism are quite far enough in the rearview mirror to be dismissed as just a temporary pit stop on the road to the broad sunlit uplands of harm/care and fairness/reciprocity.

Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, the European version of the liberal experiment currently involves the intersection of a post-Sexual Revolution birth dearth with immigration policies seemingly designed without much input from Haidt's "conservative" moral impulses - particularly the whole "ingroup/loyalty" business. Now maybe this experiment, despite some hiccups along the way, will work out to the long-term benefit of the all the peoples involved. I know that Will assumes it will, and it's quite possible he's right. But there, I think, it's definitely too soon to tell for sure. The indicators point in a lot of directions at once, and it's by no means absurd to suspect that we'll look back from the vantage point of 2100 or so and say that Europe would have been better off if the conservative moral impulses hadn't ceded the floor quite so completely to the liberal ones in the latter part of the twentieth century.

It's also worth pointing out that we don't really have any idea how Will's "distinctive form of liberal order achieved by extended market societies" would handle a severe and extended economic shock of the sort that (God willing) we've just narrowly avoided. The last time the liberal West endured such a shock, the results were extremely ugly, and it was touch-and-go for a while whether democracy would survive at all, or whether the Wilkinsons and Douthats of the future would be competing for blogging licenses in a world divvied up between competing totalitarianisms.

Of course, maybe the totalitarian moment was only made possible because the liberal weltanschauung hadn't advanced far enough, and there was still enough conservative atavism left for fascists and communists to batten on. Maybe we've advanced past all that: Maybe we won't have to find out how Will's Yang-less order bears up under severe stress; maybe we will, and it'll bear up fine.

But I tend to think that the liberal as well as the conservative moral impulses off Haidt's list went into the forging of totalitarianism, and that conservative as well as liberal impulses served as bulwarks against the worst crimes and excesses of that era. And with that in mind, the fact that rising liberal sentiments and declining conservative ones have correlated, to date with greater human flourishing overall seems somewhat short of dispositive proof that we can do without the latter entirely.   

October 30, 2008

Annals of Alternative History

Musing on what might have been if Al Gore had won Florida in 2000 - namely, a Democratic Party rallying around a presidential nominee named Joe Lieberman in 2008 - Yglesias throws in this curveball:

And of course there's also a universe in which John McCain accepted John Kerry's offer of the VP slot, and the two of them ran and won a bipartisan ticket committed to ending the incompetence of the Bush administration and prosecuting the war in Iraq the right way. That world would likely have involved a "troop surge" and reliance on the sort of counterinsurgency theories associated with David Petraeus (who, at the time, was a favorite of Bush-critical journalists).
The obvious Kerry foreign-policy counterfactual, to my mind, involves some half-hearted attempts at counterinsurgency followed by a Baker-Hamilton style exit strategy for Iraq starting in mid-2006 or so. But of course it's easy to forget about the bizarre but real possibility of a Kerry Administration with John McCain as its foreign-policy czar, which might well have produced a turn to a surge-style strategy much, much sooner than the surge we actually got. With Bush out of the picture, the GOP would have held on to Congress in 2006, and thanks to security gains in Iraq, Kerry would have been cruising to re-election in his all-Massachusetts matchup against Mitt Romney this year -  until the economic crash (what, you think a President Kerry would have prevented it?) suddenly produced a massive tightening in the polls, as the Democratic ticket's foreign policy edge (a vote for Kerry-McCain is a vote for victory!) was undercut by Romney's sudden lead on economic issues, built on extremely effective ads tying Kerry to Barney Frank's Fanny Mae shenanigans. And down the stretch they come!

Obama and the Race Card

On the "'spreading the wealth' as racial appeal" question, Yglesias writes: "Well, obviously you could read just about anything as a coded racist appeal. And I think a case could be made that you'd be right to. The simple fact of the matter is that the politics of economic conservatism in the United States have a lot to do with the politics of race. I always think it's worth recalling the practical constituency for libertarian economic policies as seen in the 1964 elections." Then he links to a map showing Barry Goldwater winning the most segregationist states and losing everywhere else.

That's one way to look at it. Another way to look at it is that here we are forty-four years later, in a country that's at least somewhat different from the America where Barry Goldwater ran as the candidate of libertarianism, states' right and segregation (and lost miserably, of course), and we're nearing the end of an election in which the fact that almost any conservative pitch can theoretically be read as a coded racial appeal seems to have benefited the savvy liberal African-American candidate as much it has the old white male conservative he's running against.

Think about it this way: Maybe the "Joe the Plumber" line is a super-coded attempt to play the race-and-welfare card. Hell, maybe all of the race cards McCain has supposedly played - linking Obama to Paris Hilton; cutting an ad with too many white women in it; cutting an ad with too many black men in it; disrespecting community organizing; calling Obama "disrespectful"; bringing up Obama's ties to a (white) domestic terrorist; describing Obama as "that one"; and so on - have been completely cynical attempts to tap into the white electorate's latent or not-so-latent racist sentiments. If this is your take on the election, though, you should acknowledge that if these were all attempts to play the race card, they've been pathetic attempts - weak, bank-shotting, detached from the major issues of the campaign, and so sub-sub-subliminal (Obama is a celebrity ... Paris Hilton is a celebrity ... Paris Hilton is a slut ... Paris Hilton is a slutty white woman ... sex ... Obama is a black man ... black men are randy ... Obama wants to have sex with Paris Hilton ... Obama wants to rape white womanhood!) as to be more or less pointless.
  
Consider, for a moment, that here we are, five days away from the election, and a Republican nominee for President has run a campaign against an African-American opponent that has barely touched any of the traditional racially-charged domestic-policy issues. Affirmative action has been off the table, of course. Obama's liberal record on crime has been raised, I believe, in a couple of Rudy Giuliani robocalls and that's about it. The "welfare" ad I just linked to is pretty much the first time the McCain campaign has mentioned the word all year: Obama opposed the mid-1990s welfare reform (albeit in a characteristically bets-hedging way), but you'd never know it from listening to his opponent's campaign. Nor have they touched immigration, where the Obama camp takes the prize for the most demagogic, racially-charged attack ad. And of course Obama's most politically-poisonous personal association has been more or less off the table throughout.

Now there are various reasons why none of these issues have played a role in the campaign:  Attacking on some of these fronts would have required flip-flops on McCain's part; attacking on others (crime, especially) would have reaped vastly diminished returns compared to GOP campaigns of yore; etc. But it's also the case that the Obama campaign (and its surrogates and allies) have done a masterful job of boxing the GOP in on race-related fronts, playing off the media's biases, McCain's sense of honor, and the Republican Party's unpleasant history to create a climate of hair-trigger sensitivity around terrains and topic that usually hurt Democratic candidates. I'm not asking anyone to shed any tears for the McCain camp on this front: African-Americans have been on the losing end of hardball politics in this country since the first slave ship docked in Virginia, and there's more than a little rough justice in the fact that Barack Obama's campaign has found ways to turn his race to its advantage during this campaign. But given the race issue have played out, I think the appropriate liberal sentiment on the eve of this election should be a lot closer to Ta-Nehisi Coates' confident brio to the "race is still gonna doom Obama, isn't it?" paranoia that I'm hearing from a lot of my liberal friends.

In Fairness ...

... I should note that the design of this last-ditch McCain ad - which actually uses the word "welfare," as opposed to just talking about "spreading the wealth," a distinction that makes a difference - makes John Judis's "race and Joe the Plumber" argument seem at least slightly more tethered to plausibility:


October 29, 2008

Heads, You're a Racist. Tails, You're a Racist!

As I've said before, I'm been somewhat baffled by the McCain campaign's decision to spend its final weeks accusing Barack Obama of being a "spread the wealth" liberal, given that this is more or less how Obama has been campaigning all year long: Taxing the rich to pay for health care and and middle-class tax cuts isn't his domestic agenda's dirty little secret; it is his domestic agenda! But now, thanks to John Judis, the McCain strategy becomes crystal clear:

I mention the Bradley effect because I think, too, that McCain and Sarah Palin's attack against Obama for advocating "spreading the wealth" and for "socialism" and for pronouncing the civil rights revolution a "tragedy" because it didn't deal with the distribution of wealth is aimed ultimately at white working class undecided voters who would construe "spreading the wealth" as giving their money to blacks. It's the latest version of Reagan's "welfare queen" argument from 1980. It if it works, it won't be because most white Americans actually oppose a progressive income tax, but because they fear that Obama will inordinately favor blacks over them. I don't doubt that this argument will have some effect, but I suspect it's too late and that worries about McCain and Republican handling of the economy will overshadow these concerns.
Noam Scheiber agrees, adding: "Worse, though I have no evidence for this (nothing new there), I worry that these insinuations are reinforced in the minds of working-class whites by the millions of African-Americans lining up early to vote for Obama."

Maybe if you have "no evidence" for worrying about a McCain victory on the basis of a racist backlash, you shouldn't speculate publicly about it! Look - I know that liberals are panicky about blowing the election, and I understand that some weird bad race-related mojo is the only way that they can imagine Obama blowing it. And I know that Judis has written before about research into the kind of effect he's positing here. But really. I'm sure I'm displaying my immense naivete about the sinister machinations of Steve Schmidt and company here, but if I had John McCain's disposable income I'd happily put up tens of thousands of dollars betting that the "don't let Obama spread your wealth to shiftless blacks" ploy that Judis is describing has not once been a topic of conversation in any McCain strategy session throughout the whole "Joe the Plumber" phase of the campaign. (Though maybe it's such a subtle strategy that even the strategists themselves don't realize they're employing it!)

Moreover, under the standard Judis is using, it seems as though any attack a conservative could possibly launch on a black Democrat's liberalism is racially-charged by definition. Seriously - is there any attack McCain could launch against Obama at this point, whether policy-driven or personal, that couldn't be read, in some tortured fashion, as a racist appeal?

Jindal, Race, and the Right

Dave Weigel weighs in on the subject here; Daniel Larison here. I think that liberals trying to understand the conservative mind, circa 2008, should take this passage from Larison to heart:

 ... never underestimate the Republican desire to get on the high horse of anti-racism and egalitarianism, to say nothing of the even greater desire to demonstrate that they are in no way racist ... The small cottage industry out there cataloguing the "real racism" of liberals represents a genuine conviction in the modern GOP that they are the only true defenders of color-blind equality. The Republican obsession with Jeremiah Wright cannot be understood apart from this "fight the real racists!" mentality. The enthusiastic reception of Palin and the sudden willingness to label any criticism of her as sexism and elitism reflects a similar impulse to out-egalitarian the egalitarians. This is opportunistic insofar as it is aimed at confusing conventional definitions and throwing the opponent off guard ("we're the real feminists, so there!"), but it is quite serious in that reflects a widely-held Republican belief that their agenda and their party represent "empowerment" for women and minorities.
Now this is not to say that there aren't plenty of Republican operatives out there who have a different and rather more cynical view of their party's relationship to race and racism; nor is it to say that there aren't plenty of racist Republicans. But as a rule, the more ideological a given conservative (and thus, one might add, the more likely to vote in a GOP primary), the more likely he is to take the view of American politics that Larison describes above - of the GOP as the party of colorblindness, and the Democrats as the party of racialism if not racism. And the more eager, in turn, he will be to cast a vote for someone like Bobby Jindal, the better to vindicate his conception of the party he supports.

Meanwhile, in a follow-up to his original argument, Chris Orr takes issue with my suggestion that the "Otherization" of Obama - the portrait of the Democratic nominee as a dangerous radical, un-American, etc. - has much at all to do with the radical connections from his Chicago past, as opposed to just being an outgrowth of his race, name, foreign relatives, etc:

This seems to me not only convenient but largely wrong: Liberation theology has barely entered into the presidential season, and all the Muslim, terrorist pal, falsified birth certificate, not "the American president Americans are looking for" garbage of the cycle seems far more closely connected to Obama's "name, ancestry and skin color" than to his "academic-lefty and urban-machine milieu." ("Socialist" probably fits Douthat's explanation a bit better.) As a coverted Hindu whose legal name is still Piyush, whose parents arrived in the states not long before his birth and who attended an Ivy League university, Jindal would be open to many of the same kind of idiot smears directed at Obama, should any of his GOP opponents for the nomination care to make them.
I guess I'm a little uncertain about what we're talking about here. If we're only talking about the "Obama is a Muslim" fever-swamp stuff - which played a big role in the Democratic primary without any push from the GOP, one might note - then yeah, that would have been percolating around in chain emails and the blogosphere rumor mill independent of the Ayers-Wright-Chicago tangle, and I suppose that there might be similar stuff floating around about Jindal in the future. (Though it'll help that his middle name isn't Hussein, and that his dad isn't a Muslim.) But if we're talking about the broader "he's an anti-American with terrorist pals" narrative that's emerged in the right-wing mediasphere over the last few months - and that was given perhaps its most vivid and ridiculous expression, of course, by Michelle Bachmann - then I think we're talking about a narrative that has everything to do with the fact that Obama emerged from a political milieu that's considerably more tolerant of what I think it's fair to describe as anti-Americanism than the environment that produced a John Kerry or an Al Gore or a Bill Clinton.

Does this narrative bleed into unhinged fever-swampage, and vice versa? Sure. But would it exist in anything like it's current form if Barack Obama hadn't built his career in a political environment where unrepentant left-wing terrorists can become pillars of the community, and practiced his faith in (and lavished money on) a church where Amerika-bashing and far-left conspiracy theorizing seem to have been just part of the scenery? I think not. And I think it's fair to assume that as long as Bobby Jindal doesn't have anything like Obama's relationship to Jeremiah Wright - which remains the most troubling thing we've learned about our probable next President, I think, over the course of the last year - rattling around in his closet, he isn't going to need to worry all that much about being tarred as an anti-American because of his funny last name.

Again, this doesn't mean that Jindal's race would be an absolute non-factor in any Presidential campaign he might run. Later in the follow-up post, Chris narrows the thrust of his original argument slightly, suggesting that in a hard-fought GOP primary, one of Jindal's rivals could gain ground by "quietly cultivating" racism and/or xenophobic rumors about the Louisiana governor. That's plausible: As several emailers have noted, Jindal's narrow loss in his first campaign for governor probably had something to do with the Democrats' exploitation of northern Louisiana racism, and similar on-the-margin effects could come into play in a primary campaign as well. But that would have been the case with or without the "Otherization" of Barack Obama - and I remain convinced that there are more than enough conservatives smarting from being accused of racism in the context of the '08 race and eager to pull the lever for a dark-skinned right-winger to make his ancestry an net advantage for him overall in a future GOP primary, even if it's also a disadvantage in certain hard-fought states or districts.

October 28, 2008

Jindal, Obama and the GOP

I think Chris Orr is completely wrong about this:

... while there are plenty of 2012 GOP presidential aspirants who have reason to be unhappy with the McCain campaign's decisions over the last couple months (and, in particular, the Palin choice), a case could be made that no one's nearish-term prospects have been hurt more than Bobby Jindal's.

Though rarely explicit (and certainly not exclusive) a large portion of the GOP's closing argument this cycle has been to stoke white, working class fear and suspicion of the Other. The dark-skinned man with the foreign-sounding name may be a Muslim, or a socialist, or a friend of terrorists, or a racial huckster, or a fake U.S. citizen, or some other vague kind of "radical." You may never be sure which he is (maybe all of the above), but in your gut you simply don't "know" him the way you know the other candidates. This is not, to put it mildly, a message likely to benefit Bobby Jindal.

Now, yes, four years is a longer time in politics than it used to be. But I still don't see these toxins leaching out that quickly, particularly from a GOP that will, in all likelihood, continue trying to raise subliminal doubts about Obama's Americanness. Add to this the blunt fact that the GOP probably can't afford to lose racist white voters, especially in the South (you think a Jindal - Obama race wouldn't invite a conservative, white, third-party candidacy?), and I think Jindal's chance of being the nominee in 2012 is, despite his obvious talents, pretty close to nil. The GOP isn't going to be looking for its own Obama; it's going to be looking for an anti-Obama.

I think this vastly, vastly overestimates the extent to which the attempt to "Otherize" Obama has been about race qua race (and racism qua racism), and vastly underestimates the extent to which it's been about the way Obama's name, ancestry and skin color have dovetailed with other aspects of his background - from his liberation-theology church to the academic-lefty and urban-machine milieu in which he spent much of his early political career - that the GOP would have tried to play up against any Democratic candidate (and especially in a year when the party didn't have much else going for it). If anything, I think the way the McCain campaign has finished up - and the way the media has covered it - works to Jindal's advantage in 2012: Conservatives are going to be extremely eager to prove that they only hate Obama because he's a radical, not because they're racist, and what better way to demonstrate that than to nominate a dark-skinned conservative with a funny-sounding name? Indeed, much of the current affection for Jindal among movement conservatives - and especially in talk-radio land - can be traced to precisely such a yearning for a conservative Obama: A multicultural prince who channels Ronald Reagan, and whose nomination would at least reduce the taint of racism that clings to the American Right.

Likewise, the idea that Jindal, if nominated, would invite a right-wing third party challenge aimed at peeling off racist Southern whites strikes me as fanciful in the extreme. Maybe the usual sad-sack Libertarian nominee would do slightly better in a Jindal-Obama race than in, say, a Pawlenty-Obama race because of some sort of racist peel-off ... but I'm pretty doubtful on that score as well. If Bobby Jindal can win the Republican nomination and then the governorship in Louisiana, he isn't going to have any race-based trouble as a GOP candidate on the national stage. 

October 27, 2008

The End of Conservatism?

For some reason, The New Republic has decided to embarrass the talented and perceptive John Judis by digging out of its archives a piece that he wrote announcing the death of conservatism ... in, er, 1992. The piece "holds up remarkably well," Max Fisher writes by way of introduction, which I suppose is one way of descriping an essay that sounds an awful lot like the epitaphs for conservatism being penned amid the current Republican crisis - but that has the disadvantage of having been written some sixteen years ago, amid a brief false dawn for liberalism, and just before the Republican Revolution of 1994. Since we're talking about Bill Weld in other contexts, I thought I'd highlight this passage:

While some older conservatives like Kristol have increasingly identified with the fundamentalist critique of modern society -- last year Kristol published an extended polemic in Commentary against "secular humanism" -- younger conservatives on campus and on congressional staffs tend to be far more cosmopolitan in their attitudes. According to one estimate, about 50 percent of the members of Ivy League conservative organizations and about 75 percent of the Washington Bush-Quayle staff are pro-choice. And many Washington conservatives such as Policy Review editor Adam Meyerson see Massachusetts's pro-choice, pro-gay rights Governor Weld as a promising presidential choice.
Alas, for the lost Weld Presidency!

Seriously, there are all sorts of reasons to think the current conservative crisis is rather more dire than the post-Reagan blues that gripped the Right when Judis was penning his premature obituary. But the fact that a "conservatism is dead!" piece from sixteen years ago seems to offer such an apt description of our own era should offer conservatives at least a small measure of encouragement as they prepare to take their lumps next Tuesday.

Liberal or Conservative?

McClatchy has a piece on the Bush Administration's successes curtailing homelessness - a subject I've written about before. Because spending has risen even as homelessness numbers have fallen, the reporter describes the policy shift as "radical" and "liberal." Ed Morrissey basically concurs:

Was this one of Bush's more liberal policies?  I'd say yes. By providing a housing solution free of charge, federal and state governments had to cough up a lot of money.  As McClatchy notes, though, that saved money that would have gone to acute-rescue efforts like shelters and crisis treatment centers. Housing gave the previously homeless an opportunity to seek employment, creating a net revenue gain rather than a funding drain. Whether or not anyone wants to call it liberal, it certainly proved more cost effective than the other liberal plans in place during the previous generation.

The trouble is that this logic takes you halfway to describing welfare reform - probably the biggest conservative domestic-policy success of the post-Reagan era - as a "liberal policy" as well. After all, it merely replaced AFDC with a more "cost effective" program, TANF - one oriented, like the Bush Administration's homelessnes policies, around moving people from straight-up welfare into the paid workforce - rather than doing away with the welfare system entirely. It's true that at the national level, welfare reform reduced spending along the way (though Tommy Thompson's reforms in Wisconsin, the model for the national reform, boosted funding during the transition to workfare), whereas the Bush anti-homelessness push has required an infusion of roughly $500 million (less, I believe, if you adjust for inflation) over what HUD provided for homelessness policy in 2002. But the payoff in terms of conservative goals - reducing dependency, increasing workforce participation - has been pretty impressive. And responding intelligently to homelessness seems like exactly the kind of thing that a more minimalist, means-tested welfare state ought to be doing.

Morrissey goes on to wonder why the rest of the media isn't reporting on the Bush Administration's success. It's an excellent question - but it would be an even better question if conservatives were willing to take credit for the success, instead of disowning it.

Moderate Republicans, Reformist Conservatives, and Other Animals

A reader writes:

I read your posting on Limbaugh's monologue. There is one point I do not understand. You seem to claim that a bad campaign by McCain justifies moderate Republicans jumping ship. I do not understand why that in anyway justifies the actions of moderate Republicans in endorsing Obama after the Republican party nominated their candidate John McCain over the objections of conservatives. Even if the dubious claim that McCain ran a "substance-free campaign" is true, it should not cause anyone who seriously follows politics into believing that somehow Obama is more in tune with moderate/ centrist/"reformist" Republicans than John McCain. This is simply style over substance at its worst. The fact that a number of "reformist conservatives" have so endorsed Obama suggests a dangerous level of opportunism on the part of these people. It is reasonable for more tradiutional conservatives to conclude on the basis of this action that at least these Obama-endorsing reformist are not to be trusted by any type of conservatives when rebuilding the movement post-McCain. (I am curious. Would you agree with Limbaugh on this at least?)
I would agree that some of the once-Republican figures who have endorsed Obama have done so out of opportunism and/or a desire for attention, yes: In this category I would place figures like Scott McClellan (whose photo appears next to the word "opportunism" in the dictionary, I believe) and Ken Adelman (last seen disavowing any responsibility for the nasty consequences of a war that he loudly supported), among others. Others have endorsed him  for somewhat more principled reasons: If you have the politics of, say, a Colin Powell or a William Weld or a Christopher Hitchens, there's a case to be made that you basically belong in today's Democratic Party anyway. And others still have endorsed him for reasons too tangled, I think, to be applicable to anyone who wasn't born and raised a Buckley.

And no, I wouldn't trust the rebuilding of conservatism to any of these people. But nobody was going to entrust it to them anyway: Scott McClellan, Bill Weld and Christopher Hitchens were not going to be the architects of a new Republican majority in any world you care to imagine. Indeed, you could even flat-out say "good riddance" to them, as Limbaugh wants to do ... if you had a plan for finding converts to conservatism somewhere else. But Limbaugh doesn't have a plan, and what he and others are doing is using the McClellans of the world to pre-emptively discredit anyone else who thinks the GOP needs to reform, rather than retrench. You moderate Republicans, he says: You wanted John McCain, you got him, and now you're all jumping ship! But everybody who disagrees with Limbaugh isn't jumping ship, and going forward the Right doesn't just face a binary choice between Limbaugh's conservatism and McCain's "moderate Republicanism," let alone between Limbaugh and Bill Weld.

One alternative path forward - and only one, out of many - is a reformist conservatism that tries to craft a new right-of-center domestic-policy agenda, one better attuned than the current Republican agenda to the set of challenges facing middle and working-class America. This sort of reformism is associated with a group of writers that would include people like Ramesh Ponnuru, David Frum, Yuval Levin, David Brooks, Reihan and myself - and, if you cast a wider net, perhaps figures ranging from Jim Manzi to Rod Dreher to Michael Gerson and Pete Wehner. As the list suggests, it's not an ideologically coherent group by any means, with divergent views on issues ranging from abortion (Ramesh and I are pro-life, Frum and Brooks are pro-choice) to foreign policy (where I'm an outlier, being more in the realist than the neoconservative camp) to the wisdom of choosing Sarah Palin as John McCain's veep. And even on the basic domestic-policy questions there's considerable disagreement. Frum, Ramesh and I are more restrictionist on immigration than, say, Brooks and Gerson. Frum favors a carbon tax, Manzi opposes it. Ramesh is to my right on size-of-government questions, while David Brooks is probably well to my left. Ramesh had some unkind things to say about David Frum's book. I had some unkind things to say about Michael Gerson's. Etc.

But with the possible exception of David Brooks - who's the most centrist, as opposed to rightist, person on the list - I'm pretty sure that nobody in this group is going to be voting for Barack Obama. And I'm quite sure that none of the strategies and policy proposals that we've batted around, individually or collectively, have been discredited by the McCain campaign's various struggles - and especially not by McCain's failure to keep Scott McClellan and Bill Weld, of all people, in the Republican fold. Our ideas may, in fact, be terrible, un-conservative, political poison, or all of the above. But they haven't been tried and found wanting; to date, they've been largely left untried.

The bigger point (and I know I'm a broken record here) is this. Whatever direction you think conservatism should be going in from here on out, the absolute worst thing the members of a losing political movement can do - if they ever want to win again, at least - is attempt to pre-emptively close off debate about the movement's future. Conservatives need to have arguments, not promise excommunications, or else pretty soon there won't be very much worth arguing over.

October 26, 2008

Rush Limbaugh Explains It all

This Rush Limbaugh monologue is a fascinating document, and should be required reading for anyone seeking to understand one of the most powerful conservative narratives emerging around the looming GOP debacle. For Rush, there are only two kinds of people in Republican Party: True conservatives like him, and "moderate Republicans." The latter is an ideologically-inclusive category: You can be pro-choice or pro-life, David Frum or Colin Powell, a Rockefeller Republican or a Sam's Club conservative; indeed, the only real requirement for moderate-Republican status is the belief that the Republican Party needs to reach out to voters who don't agree with, well, Rush Limbaugh on every jot and tittle of what conservatism is and ought to be. And this inclusive definition allows Limbaugh to shape a narrative of the '08 election in which "moderate Republicans" can shoulder more or less all the blame for what's gone wrong:

I wish to reach around and pat myself on the back. Way back during the Republican primaries ... we were told Ty the Republican Party hierarchy that the only chance the Republican Party had (by the way, we were told this also by some of the intellectualoids in our own conservative media) to win was to attract Democrats and moderates; and that the era of Reagan was over, and we had to somehow find a way to become stewards of a Big Government but smarter that gives money away to the Wal-Mart middle class so that they, too, will feel comfortable with us and like us and vote for us.

In that sense, it was said the only opportunity this party has to regain power is John McCain. Only John McCain can get moderates and independents and Democrats to join the Republican Party, "and we can't win," these intellectualoids said, "if that didn't happen." Well, the latest moderate Republican to abandon his party is William Weld, the former governor of Massachusetts who today endorsed the Most Merciful Lord Barack Obama. He joins moderate Republican Colin Powell. He joins former Bush press spokesman Scott McClellan.  He joins a number of Republicans like Chuck Hagel, Senator from Nebraska ...

Now, I wish to ask all of you influential pseudointellectual conservative media types who have also abandoned McCain and want to go vote for Obama (and you know who you are without my having to mention your name) what happened to your precious theory?  What the hell happened to your theory that only John McCain could enlarge this party, that we had to get moderates and independents? How the hell is it that moderate Republicans are fleeing their own party and we are not attracting other moderates and independents?

... When I saw the Weld thing today I smiled and I fired off a note to all my buddies and I said, "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! How can this be? How can this be?  This is the kind of guy that our candidate was supposed to be attracting, and we were supposed to be getting all these moderates from the Democrat Party," and we will, by the way. We're going to get some rank and file, average American Democrats that are going to vote for McCain.  But these hoity-toity bourgeoisie... Well, they're not the bourgeoisie, but... Well, they are in a sense. They're following their own self-interests, so I say fine. They have just admitted that Republican Party "big tent" philosophy didn't work. It was their philosophy; it was their idea. These are the people, once they steered the party to where it is, they are the ones that abandoned it.
The logic is so airtight it's suffocating. John McCain is a moderate Republican. Some people - the party establishment and the "intellectualoids" - said that only someone like McCain would stand a chance of winning the Presidency in 2008, given the state of the GOP brand. But here we are in October, and John McCain is losing - and worse, some of his fellow moderate Republicans are defecting to Obama. Therefore, not only are all the people who urged the GOP to nominate McCain discredited, but so is anybody else who disagrees with Rush Limbaugh about the future direction of the GOP. Moderate Republicanism had its chance this year, and it failed. The big-tent approach was tried and found wanting. Next time, they'll listen to Rush if they want to win. And so forth.

Take a step back, of course, and the whole argument collapses. (McCain's substance-free campaign discredits more reformist visions of conservatism how, exactly? The defection of Bill Weld, blueblood extraordinaire, is supposed to undercut the idea that the GOP should be trying to appeal to middle-class Wal-Mart shoppers? McCain is still going to win the "rank and file, average American Democrats" - it's only the "hoity-toity" types who are jumping ship? etc.) But read quickly (or delivered with Rush's customary brio), it has a certain surface plausibility - just enough, I suspect, to be persuasive to the many, many conservatives eager to be convinced that the '08 outcome had everything to do with John McCain's heresies and the treason of the Beltway elites, and nothing whatsoever to do with them.

October 24, 2008

The Absence of Policy

One of the many fascinating things about Robert Draper's Times Magazine story on the McCain campaign is what isn't included in its account of the attempts to brand (and rebrand, and rebrand) John McCain's candidacy: Namely, any real discussion of policy. From Draper's account, the McCain campaign staff has gone around and around trying to figure out how to sell their candidate - as a fighter! as an experienced leader! as a maverick! etc. - but hardly ever seemed to have spent much time thinking about how these narratives would mesh with or be reinforced by the actual policy agenda the campaign was advancing.

Now, obviously Draper's piece isn't the whole story of the campaign, and obviously he was focusing on the strategy apparatus, rather than the policy apparatus. (Douglas Holtz-Eakin doesn't make an appearance in the piece.) And yes, of course, those of us with wonkish inclinations tend to dramatically overestimate the impact that actual policy choices, as opposed to narratives and symbolism, have on the outcome of presidential elections. But I don't think it's a coincidence that McCain's successful sales pitch to GOP primary voters was built around a specific policy - namely, his support for the surge. And I suspect that his unsuccessful general-election sales pitches have suffered badly from being untethered to specific popular policy proposals that the candidate himself was interested in defending. Think about 2000: George W. Bush's brand identity, if you will, as a "compassionate conservative" dovetailed perfectly with his near-obsessive focus on education policy and his promise to work across the aisle on a prescription drugs bill. Whereas the McCain camp's stabs at crafting a brand identity only beg the question: He's a maverick ... who'll do what? He's a bipartisan reformer ... but what reforms will he deliver? Etc.

To the extent McCain's policy agenda has been branded in the public mind, Obama has done it for him - with a series of health-care ads that are among the most dishonest of this cycle, but among the most ubiquitous and effective as well. Meanwhile, Obama has aggressively branded himself as the guy who'll cut taxes for 95 percent of Americans. Would the Democratic nominee be winning without these successful policy-related gambits? Probably. But they certainly haven't hurt.

October 23, 2008

Biden's Epic Gaffe, Cont.

People keep emailing me to say that Biden's gaffe wasn't a gaffe at all, that he was just talking about how Barack Obama will be tested like any new President will be tested, etc. Daniel Larison makes a similar point, calling Biden's remarks "wholly unremarkable." But folks, God love you, it's just not so. Per Ben Smith, here's what Biden said:

It will not be six months before the world tests Barack Obama like they did John Kennedy. The world is looking. We're about to elect a brilliant 47-year-old senator president of the United States of America. Remember I said it standing here if you don't remember anything else I said. Watch, we're gonna have an international crisis, a generated crisis, to test the mettle of this guy."
Biden didn't say: "Every President gets tested in his first six months in office, and Barack Obama won't be any different." He specifically highlighted Obama's youth as a reason to expect a "generated crisis to test the mettle of this guy," and specifically compared him to John F. Kennedy - whose perceived inexperience (and poor initial impression on the world stage) was supposedly one of the contributing factors in the Russian decision to send missiles to Cuba. It's true that all Presidents should expect to get their mettle tested in their first year in office, and it's true that John McCain's years working on foreign-policy issues in Washington won't exempt him from that rule. And maybe that's what Biden meant to say. But the words he actually uttered seemed intended to cite his running mate's youth and relative inexperience as a reason why Obama, in particular, would be likely to face an international crisis in his first six months. And in an election where John McCain has been trying (and trying, and trying) to emphasize the risks associated with Obama's inexperience, that seems like a remarkably foolish thing for a vice-presidential candidate to say about his running mate and foreign policy. If Biden's remarks are "wholly unremarkable," then, it's only because we've reached a point in the race where Joe Biden could be photographed doing the foxtrot with Jeremiah Wright at a "Free Mumia" rally and it wouldn't affect the outcome of the election.

Larison's follow-up comment, though, is worth pondering:

What is remarkable about what Biden was saying as he addressed a crowd of Seattle Obama fans is that he was telling a progressive crowd bluntly that a President Obama is probably going to use military force in the early months in response to a crisis or foreign conflict. Biden was telling them that it is going to seem completely unnecessary and contrary to everything Obama voters think they are getting when they elect him.  What could he have meant when he says that the administration is going to need the help of these Seattle progressives (and others like them) "in the community"? My guess is that he was saying that all of the antiwar progressives who have flocked to Obama are going to be deeply disillusioned by Obama's response to said crisis and there is a danger that the administration will become politically isolated as Obama's core supporters lose confidence in him at a supposedly critical juncture.

October 22, 2008

Biden's Epic Gaffe

Ambinder, on the Dem veep's comments about Obama being greeted by "an international crisis, a generated crisis, to test the mettle of this guy":

In the 2008 election we were participating in circa August, Sen. Joe Biden's musings would have traversed the river separating gaffe from Gaffe. If the economy weren't collapsing, if Barack Obama's national security credentials were still suspect, if the conflict in Russia and South Osettia had yet to be resolved, then one can envision a scenario where Biden's comments would be given a gloss a la Gerald Ford's freeing Eastern Europe.
Yes. Biden's bizarrely honest remarks are an almost too-perfect exemplar of the Kinsleyan definition of a "gaffe" as an accidental statement of the truth - and in a different, closer election, one untouched by a global economic crisis (and, yes, the ongoing Sarah Palin story), they might have been the game-changing flub that conservatives keep looking for. (At the very least, I think they summon up a much more compelling argument against the Democratic ticket than Obama's comments to Joe the Plumber.)

Spreading the Wealth (III)

Jonah has a thoughtful response to my last post on the subject.

October 21, 2008

Haters

In this week's New Yorker, Steve Coll remarks that at McCain-Palin rallies "the mood has been not so much socialist as national-socialist." This comes on the heels of last week's New Yorker, in which Hendrik Hertzberg described McCain-Palin rallies as "bloodcurdling hate-fests." I thought of these claims while I was reading this Ben Smith item, on New York "street art" posters depicting Sarah Palin as a fanged creature with blood dripping down her chin:

There's a classic genre of New York street art that casts Republicans as, literally, the devil. Some of my earliest memories in Manhattan are of being somewhat freaked out by large posters of Ronald Reagan with red eyes and horns; some of my kids' first memories of Brooklyn will be of stenciled images of George W. Bush with horns.

It's a sign of the odd dynamic of the Republican ticket that ultra-partisan New York Democrats never really came around to loathing John McCain with the passion Reagan and Bush inspired. Indeed, that was initially a bit of a strength of the ticket: McCain has preserved his appeal to moderates, and wasn't a polarizing figure.

But Palin, as she's rallied the base, does seem to have filled that slot, as this reader picture from 38th Street and 9th Avenue shows.

For a closer look at the image, you can check out this website. (It features a quotation from none other than Ezra Klein!) I would say that the picture resembles Nazi propaganda, but then I suppose I'd be stooping to the New Yorker's level of political analysis. Suffice it to say that if somebody showed up at a McCain-Palin rally with a poster depicting Barack Obama in this guise, I'm pretty sure nobody in the media would wax nostalgic about the "classic" Republican street art of yore.

But of course, everybody knows that conservative hate - especially when it comes from anonymous hecklers at massive rallies, or when it involves booing the press - is fascism come round again, but left-wing hate is just, well, kitschy and adorable.

Spreading the Wealth (II)

Another thing on this subject - is opposition to wealth-spreading in principle really now a litmus test for being a conservative? I thought that being on the right meant that you wanted a welfare state that's small in size and limited in scope - that's what I signed up for, at least - and the most just and reasonable way to shrink and/or restrain the American welfare state that I can see is to make it more redistributive, rather than less so. To quote William Voegeli quoting Paul Pierson in a fine essay on the dilemmas of small government conservatism: "If conservatives could design their ideal welfare state, it would consist of nothing but means-tested programs." In other words, a conservative welfare state would eliminate our current network of universal entitlement programs, and replace them with cheaper, means-tested programs that, well, spread the wealth - that spend your tax dollars to provide temporary assistance to the unemployed, underwrite health care costs for the aged and very poor, set an income floor underneath American seniors, and so forth, rather than taking money from the middle class with one hand and giving it back to them with the other.

Whereas if conservatives back themselves into a corner where they're denouncing any kind of redistributionism as pure socialism, they're undercutting their ability to push for this vision of a more means-tested welfare state - because that push, if it ever has any chance of succeeding politically, will have to rely on explicitly redistributionist arguments to succeed. For instance, when John McCain proposed - correctly, in my view - that we should consider means-testing the Medicare prescription drug benefit, he justified the proposal on the grounds that "people like Bill Gates and Warren Buffett don't need their prescriptions underwritten by taxpayers." In other words, McCain was proposing a leaner Medicare that spreads the wealth to seniors who can't afford their prescription, and uses Warren Buffett's tax dollars to do it - rather than a more bloated, inefficient Medicare that makes less of a distinction between rich and poor in how it spends taxpayer dollars. I thought that was a conservative proposal. But maybe it's just creeping socialism.

October 20, 2008

Palin And Her Critics/Apologists

People keep pointing me to this Noam Scheiber piece on Sarah Palin's Alaskan past as conclusive proof that she's some horrifying combination of Richard Nixon and Greg Stillson, defined entirely by a mix of class resentment, machiavellian populism, and anti-intellectualism. It's a lively enough read, but basically my reaction was the same as Sam Schulman's, writing in this week's Standard, who noted that "Scheiber spoke to various people from Palin's past, all of whom have two things in common: Every one of them is smarter than Palin and none of them has been heard of since their encounter with her." 

But then Schulman goes on to argue that the principal challenge facing the McCain-Palin ticket is the fact that both candidates have "refused, by sheer cussedness, to fulfill the social expectations of others." (Er, maybe.) And then, inevitably, comes this:

This may make them poison to undecideds who suffer, more than most, from class anxiety. But do not despise the undecideds. Even conservatives can contract Scheiber Syndrome. Think of David Brooks, Christopher Buckley, David Frum, Peggy Noonan, and George Will. The symptoms? Curiously amplified, obsessively repeated, sometimes elaborately stage-whispered doubts about the Republican ticket.

There is no cure, but there is an etiology. All share a dreadful secret--their writing is driven by an anxiety to be tastemakers to the gentry, not merely thinkers and entertainers. There is nothing more anxious-making than striving to create taste for the classes, not masses, or even to keep up with it. (The struggle to do so is etched in the lines of Tina Brown's face.) But what the classes think is a matter to which the GOP standard-bearers are sadly but nobly indifferent.
Hey - at least he didn't mention those dreaded cocktail parties.

Seriously, though, from the way her candidacy is being covered, you'd think that Scheiber and Schulman were offering the only two possible readings of Sarah Palin, governor and vice-presidential nominee. Either she's the second coming of George Wallace, stewing from the slights she once suffered at the hands of "the more urbane members" of the Wasilla community and determined to have her revenge on uppity elites once and for all, or else she's a true-to-herself conservative heroine who's been unjustly victimized by the class anxieties of undecided voters and (especially) the conservative punditocracy. No more nuanced interpretation is possible. This is what polarization looks like, obviously, and it's all immensely wearying.

Spreading the Wealth

For a week or so now, I've been listening to smart conservatives suggest that Obama's "spreading the wealth" remark might really, really hurt him - "talk about playing into the most extreme stereotype of your party, that it is infested with socialists," writes James Pethokoukis - and I have a question: Hasn't Obama been promising to spread the wealth throughout the entire race - a race he seems to be winning at the moment? His signal domestic-policy proposals are 1) a series of tax cuts and tax credits aimed at Americans making less than $250,000 a year and 2) a big-ticket health care reform aimed at expanding coverage; both of these plans, he promises, can be paid for with tax hikes on the richest 5 percent of Americans. This agenda isn't a big socialist secret; it's more or less the basis of his campaign. I suppose it's possible that the "spreading the wealth" turn of phrase throws the redistributionist aspect of Obama's agenda into relief in a way his campaign promises haven't. But it seems to me like a generic restatement of a message that's central to the Democratic campaign: Namely, that the rich haven't paid their fair share under Republican rule, and that people making over $250,000 a year should pay more in taxes so that most Americans can pay less, to the IRS and in health-insurance premiums.

To the extent that the "Joe the Plumber" incident helped McCain, I think, it's because it hearkened back to campaigns of yore, when the GOP was promising lower taxes for guys like Joe Wurzelbacher and the Dems were promising higher taxes. That's the Reagan-era archetype that McCain is trying to tap into by flogging the Wurzelbacher story, and it's a powerful one. But I'm skeptical that the message has the same resonance when you're talking about taxes on a business that Joe the Plumber might own someday, as opposed to taxes on the income that he actually earns this year - where Obama's plan almost certainly lets him keep more cash. And I'm really, really skeptical that Obama's pro-wealth-spreading response to Joe's challenge tells voters anything they didn't already know about the two candidates' proposals and philosophy.

October 18, 2008

Is Joe The Plumber Fair Game?

Jon Chait Cohn, on the media coverage of everybody's favorite everyman:

... Running with thinly-sourced or unconfirmed allegations about Wurzelbacher's personal life--his financial records, his license situation, his marriage--goes too far. Wurzelbacher doesn't seem particularly skittish about speaking his mind or getting attention for it. But there's no way he could be prepared for the kind of scrutiny that comes with being the political world's most famous talking point.

As a result, writers should allow Wurzelbacher a bit more privacy than they would the typical public figure. And when printing anything that touches on his personal life, even remotely, they should be sure to confirm it first. So far, it seems, writers haven't always done that.

One reason I feel strongly about this is that I've seen it all happen before. As you may recall, back in 2007, a young boy from Baltimore named Graeme Frost was tapped to give the Democrats' weekly radio address. Congress was in the middle of debating whether to expand the State Children's Health Insurance Program (S-CHIP). Frost, who relied upon the program to cover ongoing medical treatments from a severe car accident, used his story to argue for the program's growth.

Within days, though, right-wing bloggers started digging into the Frost family story in order to prove he didn't really need S-CHIP. To make their point, they published "revelations" based on hearsay, hasty public records searches, or mere suspicion. The Frosts had new marble countertops in their kitchen! They had enrolled their kids in one of Baltimore's toniest private schools! They could have bought insurance if they wanted it!

Okay, but ... Graeme Frost and Graeme Frost's parents chose to become a spokesfamily for a particular piece of legislation, and to place their personal story in the service of the Democratic Party's political agenda. Whereas all Joe Wurzelbacher did was ask a question on a rope line. Now, it seems like he enjoyed the ensuing attention - or at least initially he did - and it's true that John McCain, not the prying media, was responsible for turning him into a national celebrity by citing him endlessly in the last debate. But if you're talking about the vexed question of how much privacy the media should afford citizens whose life stories become political footballs, the Frosts and Wurzelbacher seem like at best imperfect equivalents: The S-Chip family asked for their celebrity to a far greater extent than Joe the Plumber did.

Chait Cohn embeds his argument in an attack on Michelle Malkin's hypocrisy, since she led the charge to investigate the Frosts but posted an outraged attack on the media invasions of Wurzelbacher's privacy. But citing Malkin throws into relief another difference between the cases. As Byron York noted last week, the only people who pounced on the Frosts were right-wing bloggers like Malkin; the mainstream media followed up later on, and covered the story as a case of a boy and his family being "attacked by conservative bloggers." That's not, to put it mildly, how outlets like the Times have pursued and framed the Wurzelbacher story. Now there are reasons for this difference apart from straightforward media bias: Frost's age, for one thing, and the fact that a Presidential election produces much more of a feeding frenzy than a health care debate. But I doubt they're much of a comfort to Joe the Plumber at the moment. And between this business and the bad-taste-in-your-mouth Cindy McCain "investigation," it seems like a bad week for Clark Hoyt to come out with a thumbsucker on how wonderfully evenhanded and judicious his paper is.

And yes, to echo Tyler Cowen, in an ideal world this whole controversy would prompt politicians to stand up against the mandatory licensing of plumbers - and of quite a few other occupations as well. (Cutting down on licensing requirements is one of the many small-bore notions we float in Grand New Party, and one of the least likely to be realized.)

Update:
My apologies to both Jons for the mix-up.

October 17, 2008

Right-Wing Pundit Armageddon!

Ramesh takes me to task:

In an otherwise good post, Ross Douthat refers to "the great right-wing pundit civil war." Maybe we'll have one after the election, but the current fight is not yet nearly as big or bitter as the divisions over Colin Powell in 1995, the First Things controversy in 1996, the Bush-vs.-McCain contest in 2000, or even immigration in 2006-7.
Hey - I wasn't being entirely serious there! Can't a guy overstate the case a little? (Besides, I wasn't even born in 1995.)

Meanwhile, the latest skirmishes in the, er, great right-wing pundit Pennamite War - Peggy Noonan and Kathleen Parker's twin volleys in praise of Christopher Buckley, saint and holy martyr - almost incline me to switch over to the "don't let the door hit you on your way out" side of the argument, if only because Buckley's endorsement of Barack Obama (and subsequent exit from NR's back page) didn't strike me as precisely the sort of intellectually-serious self-critique that conservatives ignore at their peril. (Noonan and Parker's own critiques of Sarah Palin do fall into that category; Buckley's foray into Obamaphilia, by contrast, struck me as more of a jaunty, self-dramatizing stunt.) But rather than wading back into the debate, I think I should listen to the reader who wrote in, after my spate of posts on the subject, to remark that "criticizing other pundits for ignoring the issues in favor of criticizing other pundits is even more meta, boring, and petulant than other pundits ignoring the issues in favor of criticizing other pundits," and just let the whole thing drop for a while.  

October 16, 2008

Explain Yourself!

I think Yglesias has this pretty much right:

To me, the crux of the matter is that McCain can't get out of the habits that served him very well when he was a Senator building a glowing national reputation largely by talking directly to elite members of the political press. If you watched the previous two presidential debates, plus the VP debate, plus about half of the Democratic primary debates, plus the prime time speeches at the Democratic National Convention, and you've seen a dozen Obama surrogates yakking on cable a dozen times each just since Lehman Brothers went under then it gets kind of boring to watch Obama stay calm and repeat his talking points on the key issues.

But the debate is targeted at folks who haven't watched all that stuff. And a lot of McCain's best moments will have gone way over the heads of most people.

For example, he alluded at one point to a desire to allow more imports of sugar ethanol. Now if you're familiar with the details of the ethanol debate, you'll know that McCain's stance on this is correct on the merits. And you'll also know that Obama is a big support of corn ethanol both because they grow corn in downstate Illinois and because they made a big push for the Iowa Caucuses. McCain, by contrast, has a long and principled record on corn ethanol that's hurt him in Iowa. This isn't the biggest deal in the world, but it is a nice illustration of some of McCain's key campaign themes. And yet he didn't try to explain it at all. Similarly, he's had a knack for besting Obama on national security issues nobody cares about, like the relationship of US-Colombia trade deals to the US-Venezuela proxy conflict playing out in the Colombian jungle. People figure that Obama seems like a smart guy, and if something important happens involving a guerilla group nobody's heard of fighting a president nobody's heard of in a country nobody cares about, that Obama's up to the task of coming up with a good idea -- meanwhile, McCain has no education policy.

And JPod makes a similar point as well.

McCain's Mistake?

David Frum, on his primary-season choices:

While nobody could have predicted that a global financial crisis would erupt in the fall of 2008, it was observable a year ago that the incomes of the middle class had stagnated during the Bush years. (I know because I observed it--in fact, in 2007 I published a whole book largely on this very point.) McCain previously had expressed doubts about many Bush policies, from the tax cuts of 2001 to the administration's easy indulgence of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac in 2005. He could have continued that theme in 2007 and 2008. He could have campaigned as Nicholas Sarkozy to Bush's Jacques Chirac--a critic from within the party who offered change combined with practical experience and a moderate worldview.

... The moment at which such a message became impossible for McCain was his decision to embrace the full re-enactment of Bush's tax cuts. It must have seemed an easy decision back in the primary. It was a litmus test for many conservative voters and, after all, with Democrats poised to expand their majorities in the next Congress, there was zero likelihood those tax cuts would ever be enacted.

Trouble is, by founding his campaign on a full supply-side message, McCain denied himself the opportunity to say anything new. Worse, because that message originally took shape as a (correct) response to the problems of the 1970's, McCain's attempt to dust it off and reuse it as a response to the very different problems of the 2010's only made him look more out of date.
It's possible that McCain simply couldn't have won the GOP nominations without endorsing the complete extension of the Bush tax cuts - and I think his deeper mistake (to the extent that any policy decision has really mattered in this election) was failing to make his new tax proposals more explicitly middle-class friendly. But if I'd been advising him during the pre-primary period on which of his various heterodoxies to abandon and which ones to keep, I would have suggested that he consider going further to the right on immigration and cap-and-trade - instead of sorta-kinda going to the right on the former (but not really), and rarely talking about the latter at all - while staying slightly to George W. Bush's left on taxes. In an election that's being fought on domestic issues, this would have allowed McCain to attack Obama from the right on global warming legislation ("I support sensible measures to combat climate change, but I've decided we just can't afford Barack Obama's costly regulations") and border security ("I have a long pro-immigrant record, but we need to have law and order on our southern border, and Obama can't deliver"), while blurring the differences between the two on tax policy ("I broke with my own party to support a more middle-class-friendly tax agenda!").

The fact that McCain more or less did the reverse could be attributed - as Jon Chait would doubtless attribute it - to the awesome power of supply-side orthodoxy over the GOP. But I think the simplest answer is that McCain really cares about immigration and climate change, and doesn't care that much about tax policy (save insofar as it relates to earmarks, I suppose). So he flip-flopped heavily on the issue that doesn't matter to him, and tried to stick closer to his true beliefs on the issues that do. It's a choice that speaks well of his principles, even if it's hurt his chances in November.

The Palin Effect

A characteristically judicious take from Jay Cost.

October 15, 2008

Imagining An Obama Administration

At The Next Right and Culture11, they're having a symposium on best and worst-case scenarios for the GOP this fall, and beyond. Here's part of Poulos's contribution:

[Given the current polling], conservatives will really want to know how an Obama blowout and a seized-up Congress could also make for a best-case scenario. Simple: a narrow McCain win or loss will keep Republicans locked in a death struggle over the true meaning of conservatism and the identity of the party. So long as Congress doesn't flip completely and utterly into Democratic hands, a landslide for Obama will do conservatives much more good than harm. Without an all-powerful Democratic House and Senate behind him--or, more likely, in front of him, pulling him along -- a President Obama (even with an apparent mandate) would be high on inspiration and togetherness but low on power and ambition.

Hemmed in by the realities of an overstretched and strained economy, intense yet delicate military commitments abroad, and the broad but vague longing among the American people for a simple change in political tone, Obama would function largely as a figurehead -- something conservatives wary of executive Bridezillas could appreciate. Liberals would get all the catharsis they wanted without really being able to effect much substantive change. The left would get the healing, the right would keep the hope. And as the Obama administration became consumed in the patient, laborious, and incremental task of leading a nation unified mostly in exasperation and exhaustion, conservatives would be able to clear their minds and clean their house -- their most important task of all.

I almost buy it in theory, but as a live possibility it seems increasingly remote. The problem, as I've argued before, is that it's very difficult to decouple a party's fortunes at the Presidential level from its fortunes at the Congressional level these days. And as a result, the looming Obama landslide seems almost certain to push Congress - and especially the Senate - well beyond anything that could be described as "gridlock," leaving the GOP perilously close to a rump position. In that scenario, my biggest fear is that the economic crisis ends up tying  Obama's hands somewhat on issues of spending and taxation - and related fronts like cap-and-trade as well, perhaps - which in turn forces him to placate the feeling-its-oats Democratic base by expending political capital on other, less immediately-expensive liberal projects. Like, say, the immigration reform of La Raza's fondest dreams. Or the Freedom of Choice Act, and various other unpleasant items on the pro-choice wish list. Or a run of judicial appointees who make John Paul Stevens look like Clarence Thomas.

To some on the Right, I imagine this sort of prioritization would be treated as relatively good news. But as someone who would take Barack Obama's agenda on taxes over his agenda on certain other fronts any day of the week, it seems pretty close to a worst-case scenario to me.

Me Versus The Corner

Ramesh says some things in my defense, and does an excellent job of clarifying the muddiness of my initial point. Just to clarify further, of course I'm not saying that Levin or Hanson or Steyn or anyone else should just nod their head when, say, Christopher Buckley says he's voting for Obama. I just want to be spared the whole "I'm the last conservative pundit who hasn't sold out to the liberal media" line. If you're going to argue, just argue. Don't tell me that the people who disagree with you are kiss-ups and stooges.

Lessons of the Bush Era

A reader writes:

You had me, until: "...And in such thinking lies the seeds of years or even decades of defeat."

It hasn't for the Left, who have been shouting for eight years that the Republicans cheat, the Media is biased against them, and the Democrats aren't fierce enough to win, and have been methodically culling the center-left out of their party and going on to greater and greater triumphs despite it.

Or because of it. Maybe.
Maybe. I think American liberalism has reaped some benefits from the "angry" part of the angry left: The fiercely partisan mood certainly helped with fundraising and movement-building, neither of which the Democratic Party of the 1980s and 1990s was much good at. But Bush hating and base-mobilization alone couldn't deliver the Democrats a majority in 2004, and if you look at what the Dems have done since - in terms of messaging and candidate recruitment - it's involved a lot more ideological flexibility than the conservative stereotype of nutty netroots types purging the reasonable center-left would suggest. The iconic figure of the '06 midterm rout wasn't Ned Lamont - who lost in the end, after all - but rather Jim Webb, a Reagan Republican turned anti-Bush Dem. And the netroots' darling, John Edwards, didn't come close to winning the Democratic nomination this year; instead, it was the guy who kept the Kossacks at arm's length and kept talking about transcending party lines. At his most partisan, Obama sounds like a very conventional left-liberal, but he never sounds like Daily Kos.

But the more important point is this: Any lessons conservatives take from recent Democratic successes should come with the enormous proviso that the Dems have benefited from running against the least popular President in modern American history, and against a GOP that's been associated with an unpopular foreign war, a botched response to an immense natural disaster, and a succession of inside-the-Beltway scandals. In this climate, the Democratic Party could have put Kos himself on the ballot in '06 and '08 and still turned in a respectable performance. Whereas in a world in which George W. Bush hadn't invaded Iraq, or a world in which large stockpiles of WMDs had been found after he did invade, or a world in which the occupation of Iraq hadn't been mismanaged into a bloody botch for three long years, I suspect that the anti-Bush, anti-media, "takes the gloves off" fury of many liberals would have remained what it was circa 2003 - an embarrassing sideshow for a fumbling minority party, rather than the fuel for a liberal realignment. And while conservatives can be confident that a President Obama and a new Democratic majority will eventually overreach and create openings for the GOP, they'd be fools to anticipate anything like the series of disasters, political and otherwise, that George W. Bush has presided over. If Obama ends up where Bush is today, then conservatives can campaign any way they damn well please in 2012 and 2016 and be confident of victory. But that isn't likely to happen, and if it doesn't, the Right is going to need a strategy based on something more than base-rallying and media-bashing. 

October 14, 2008

The Liberal Media's Conservatives (II)

A couple of reader emails on the previous post:

It's not the dissent from McCain/Palin, or that these commentators are "aware of their audience" that I find so alienating. It's the glee. And the public rush to the liberal embrace. I mean if Kathleen Parker is conscience-bound to oppose Sarah Palin, then so be it. But does she have to go hold hands with Steven Colbert and make wisecracks about "bubba fantasies" in the South? You say it's not about getting invited to all the cool parties, but it sure doesn't seem like these high-minded folks are turning down any invitations.

Continue reading "The Liberal Media's Conservatives (II)" »

The Liberal Media's Conservatives

Various folks have already gone round on this subject, but I think it's worth saying something further about the way figures like Mark Levin, Mark Steyn, Victor Davis Hanson and others have responded to those right-of-center pundits who have harshly criticized the McCain-Palin ticket and/or the GOP in general lately. I think this Hanson line is worth quoting:

... with Obama now with an 6-8 point lead, some in the DC/NY corridor these last three weeks figure it's time now to jump on, or at least sort of jump, since the train they think is leaving the station and there might be still be some space at the dinner table on the caboose. They also believe as intellectuals that the similarly astute Obamians may on occasion inspire, or admire them as the like-minded who cultivate the life of the mind-in contrast to the "cancer" Sarah Palin, who, with her husband Todd, could hardly discuss Proust with them or could offer little if any sophisticated table-talk other than the chokes on shotguns or optimum RPMs on snow-machines.
I've always found the class-war element in inter-pundit sniping a little bizarre: Whether it's the netroots types hating on center-left columnists, or paleocons whining about how neocons get invited to all the cool parties, or Hanson's peculiar vision of David Brooks and Barack Obama chatting about Proust on the Acela (or something like that), it usually seems to involve the implication that successful newspaper columnists or think tank fellows live the lives of Hollywood starlets - or maybe Gilded-Age robber barons, maybe. (My favorite example in this vein: Daniel McCarthy capping off a blog post on paleocon successes by writing, "that sound you hear is Bill Kristol choking on his foie gras... ")

But leaving that issue aside, I think it's worth taking Hanson's larger point seriously. There is unquestionably a sense in which center-right scriveners who work for institutions more liberal than they (or merely exist in a climate more liberal than they) have both personal and professional incentives to criticize their own side as often as they do the other one, and to advance arguments and strike attitudes that drive more committed partisans up the wall. I'm flattered that Julian Sanchez's list of conservative writers in this position includes David Brooks and, well, me, but I think it's pretty easy to come up with a longer tally - it would include everyone from Rod Dreher (one of the very few explicitly-conservative writers at Beliefnet and the Dallas Morning News, I believe) to Christopher Buckley (Forbes FYI editor, New Yorker contributor, and now Daily Beast blogger) to various other (Peggy Noonan, Tucker Carlson, Joe Scarborough, etc.) with one foot in the right-wing intelligentsia and one foot in the MSM. Not coincidentally, this list happens to overlap in many cases with a list of right-of-center pundits who have been highly critical of the McCain campaign and the GOP recently. And while I'm sure that these writers and talkers are striving for objectivity in all things and at all times, I'm also acutely aware, from my own experience, of the way that peer effects - the desire to be perceived as the "reasonable conservative" by friends and peers, the positive reinforcement from liberal readers, etc. - can subtly influence the topics one chooses to write about and the tone one chooses to take. It's not a matter of wanting a seat at the table in the Obama Administration, or anything absurd like that; it's just a matter of being aware of your audience, and wanting to be taken seriously by people who don't necessarily share your views, but who exert a significant influence over your professional success even so.

Now of course similar incentives are also at work for people who make their living writing and talking to a more partisan audience: If you run, say, a right-wing talk radio show, or work for an explicitly conservative magazine, stoking partisan fervor is almost always in your professional interest - and if you're going to accuse David Brooks of pandering to his liberal audience, what would you say about a Levin or a Limbaugh? But I want to make a different point. Suppose that you accept the most cynical account of, say, Peggy Noonan's uncertainty about whom to vote for in this election, or Christopher Buckley's Obama endorsement - that they're just craven, self-interested bandwagon jumpers who want to keep getting invited to all those swanky cocktail parties I keep hearing about. Suppose that you regard every right-of-center writer - or single-issue fellow traveler with the Bush Republicans, in the case of Christopher Hitchens - who's publicly hurled brickbats at the McCain campaign as a quisling and a coward, a stooge for liberalism and a rat fleeing a fast-sinking ship. In such circumstances, what's the best course of action - denouncing the rats, or trying to figure out why the hell the ship is sinking? Even if Brooks and Noonan and Buckley and Dreher and Kathleen Parker and David Frum and Heather Mac Donald and Bruce Bartlett and George Will and on and on - note the ideological diversity in the ranks of conservatives who aren't Helping The Team these days - are all just snobs and careerists who quit or cavil or cover their asses when the going gets tough and their "seat at the table" is threatened, an American conservative movement that consists entirely of those pundits with the rock-hard testicular fortitude required to never take sides against the family seems like a pretty small tent at this point. And if I were Hanson or Levin or Steyn I'd be devoting a little less time to ritual denunciations of heretics and RINOs, and at least a little more time to figuring out how to build the sort of ship that will make the rats of the DC/NY corridor want to scramble back on board, however much it makes you sick to have them back. Who knows? It might just be the sort of ship that swing-state voters will want to climb on board as well.

October 13, 2008

The GOP and the Investor Class

While I'm on the subject of capital-gains tax cuts and political strategy, this seems like a good time to cite my friend Matt Continetti's 2005 profile of Eliot Spitzer, which included a prescient explanation of why a growing "investor class" doesn't guarantee a growing share of the vote for the GOP:

... while universal stock ownership may be desirable for other reasons--most economists believe that lower-income Americans would benefit from having at least some of their savings in stocks--it hardly guarantees political catnip for Republicans. For one thing, if 80 or 90 percent of Americans own stocks and bonds, "investors" will no longer be a class at all--unless it's the class of all voters, in both parties. Furthermore--and more immediately--there's a corollary to the investor-class thesis that favors Democrats. As more people enter the market, they may turn to politicians who offer protection from rapacious capitalists and irresponsible money managers. Burned by market downturns, they will want politicians to go after those who did them harm. And those politicians, in turn, will say they are "saving" markets in the process. Politicians like Eliot Spitzer.

Spitzer is gone, of course, and this isn't an exact summary of how the current financial crisis has played out for the GOP. (And as I've said before, I don't think that a straightforward focus on punishing the bad guys, as opposed to finding solutions, plays that well with voters caught up in an economic calamity.) But the broad point is timely, and true: When the stock market drops, the average middle-class investor may be more likely to look to the Democrats than to the Republicans for answers, and an ever-larger investor class may actually be more supportive of regulation - the better to minimize the short-run risks their portfolios and 401(k)s face, even at the expense of long-run gains - than a middle class that isn't heavily invested in the stock market.

If You Don't Have Something Useful To Say ...

Over the weekend, Politico reported that John McCain would be unveiling a new set of economic proposals. Today, the Times reports that no, he won't be, "unless developments call for some." That's probably for the best, if Politico had the details right:

As part of a plan to reinvigorate his flagging campaign, Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.) is considering additional economic measures aimed directly at the middle class that are likely to be rolled out this week, campaign officials said.

Among the measures being considered are tax cuts - perhaps temporary - for capital gains and dividends, the officials said.
Let's think about the politics of this idea. If you don't have money invested in the stock market - as I'm pretty sure, say, Barbara Snodgrass doesn't - John McCain is considering a short-term tax cut that won't have any immediate effect on your finances. If you do have money invested invested in the stock market, John McCain is considering a short-term tax cut on capital gains that probably you aren't even earning, because the market is tanking at the moment. And if you're the Obama campaign, you've already got an ad cut and ready to air: What's John McCain's plan for the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression? More tax cuts for the rich.

This is not to say that there aren't good reasons for conservatives to keep taxes low on investments, especially in the current economic climate. But as a last-minute political gambit, it makes almost no sense at all: The idea that a campaign that's floundering amid an economic crisis and searching for a way to connect with the middle class will reverse its fortunes by proposing a temporary capital-gains tax cut is the sort of daft notion that would only occur to a political party suffering from profound ideological sclerosis, and teetering on the brink of an election-night disaster.

October 10, 2008

Be Careful What You Wish For

Larison responds to my post on realignment, contingency, and why conservatives shouldn't necessary welcome the wilderness:

After the last few electoral cycles, and in the face of depleted American power and a remarkable financial shock that remind us how transitory worldly glory is, I turn more and more to the basic lesson of Geoffrey Parker's Success Is Never Final ... The lesson of the book, as the title suggests, is that victories are ephemeral and the seeds of later defeat are being sown in the midst of what everyone regards as progress and success.   

... this basic lesson seems to get away from people, especially in election years.  As November approaches, memories seem to get very short. Where just a few years before there was loose talk of thirty-year dominance of the Presidency on the model of the early 20th century GOP, there is now the fear of a long sojourn out of power. To avoid this, disaffected conservatives are supposed to "come home," but in November just as in 2006 it will not matter whether McCain succeeds in retaining the GOP core ...There may be a few more defections from the GOP on the right this year, but not that many. What seems certain is that, except for a shrinking, irreducible core of right-leaning independents, everyone who is not a registered Republican will be backing any candidate that is not McCain.

... What conservatives who want to remain politically engaged with the party that has failed them time after time (the non-Larisonians, if you like) need to do is make whatever efforts they can to limit losses in Congressional elections this year.  Strategists need to assume a McCain defeat, which seems increasingly likely, and get into a position that will make the 2010 midterms somewhat competitive. Objective economic conditions seem likely to worsen in the coming year, and there is every reason to think that unified Democratic government will overreach as unified governments tend to do. If McCain were somehow to prevail on 4 November, the calamity that would befall the Congressional GOP in 2010 would great and would help to erase all political gains of the previous sixteen years. Those conservatives who do not want to be consigned to the wilderness for the next decade or two need to think about the long-term consequences of a McCain victory, which would be disastrous for conservatives both in policy and political terms in the next several electoral cycles.

It's true that the election won't be won for McCain by conservatives who "come home" and turn out in '04-style numbers for him; it's even more true that it won't be won for him by conservative writers who hold their noses and vote for him. (In this sense, the question of how conservatives should regard the prospect of a McCain defeat is even more academic, at this point, than the question of what tactics the McCain campaign should pursue.) That being said, I would only point out that while success is never final, some successes are more final than others. The election of Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1932 gave birth to an administrative state that has never been rolled back, and seems unlikely be rolled back in my lifetime. So that was a pretty final victory, as political victories go. Or again, while Ronald Reagan's election in 1980 had less enduring consequences than FDR's, at the very least it put its stamp on thirty years of American history in a way that, say, the election of Jimmy Carter or George H.W. Bush did not. And the convergence of an economic crisis and complete Democratic control of Washington should alarm even those conservatives eager to wash their hands of the GOP. The best reason for even the most disaffected right-winger to root for a McCain victory is simple: To the extent that much of the progressive agenda is a program in search of a crisis to justify its implementation, an election that delivers a liberal candidate who's adored by the media to White House, gives him huge majorities in both houses of Congress, and presents him with a worldwide state of emergency in which to govern, has the potential to be not just another loss for conservatives, but a once-in-a-generation defeat.

Now it's possible, as Larison suggests, that a McCain victory would just set the stage for even more devastating defeats in 2010 and 2012. But this is where contingency comes in: We know so much more about what the political and economic landscape will look like if Obama is elected than we do about the hypothetical landscape of '10 or '12 that worrying about a hypothetical Hillary or Obama landslide four years hence when we're faced with the possibility of a real landslide in three weeks feels, well, farsighted to a fault. (Also, conservatives should prefer Hillary Clinton in charge of a Democratic supermajority to Barack Obama in a similar position, I think.) And while it would be nice, as Daniel suggests, to decouple the fortunes of the House and Senate GOP from the fortunes of the McCain campaign, I don't think that's going to happen: This is a national election, and I suspect that House and Senate candidates will only rise in the polls if the national ticket is rising in the polls. Which means that even if you think he's already beaten, if you're a conservative you should still root for him to close the gap, because the GOP's ability to be a brake on the liberal majority in the House and Senate may depend on the size of Obama's win, and the coattails that come with it. (Which is part of why I find the Ayersing so frustrating: I suspect that the strategy won't just fail to help McCain, but will actually further weaken the GOP in down-ballot races, by fueling the perception that the party's deeply out of touch.)

A Bailout For The Middle Class

All this talk about "what McCain should do" is growing increasingly academic - he'll keep doing what he's doing, and even if he did something else events are in the saddle now - but it's still worth quoting Sebastian Mallaby:

How should government demonstrate concern for regular people? John McCain's plan to refinance mortgages shows that he has the right impulse, but this is not the best approach. Rearranging home loans one by one would be a slow process when what's needed is quick action. It would be almost impossible to rearrange the loans fairly: Prudent home buyers who have kept up with their payments might lose out to imprudent ones who stretched too far; folks who rented while saving for a home would get nothing. Besides, McCain's plan could exacerbate the financial crisis in a perverse way. Help for families who are behind in their mortgage payments could encourage others to stop paying, too, in which case loans that are now good would quickly turn rotten.

The fastest and fairest way to help ordinary people is via a budget stimulus package. Part of the extra spending should be distributed to state governments, which are having trouble maintaining Medicaid and other programs as recession eats into their tax revenue. Part of the extra spending could go to infrastructure projects, though this tends to be a slow way of getting cash into the economy. But much of the stimulus should be in checks made out directly to citizens. Wall Street is getting its bailout. Main Street deserves one also.
Once upon a time, conservatives won elections by promising to give middle-class America back its tax dollars. In the teeth of a recession, staring defeat in the face, that's a far better message to run on than earmarks, or energy independence, or William Ayers.

October 9, 2008

Ayers, McCain and the Dow

Imagine you're an undecided voter, turning on the news tonight. You hear about the enormous plunge Wall Street took today. You hear about the U.S. government taking ownership stakes in American banks. You hear about a global economic crisis. You hear about the Great Depression.

Then the subject turns to the Presidential race - and if the news channel behaves the way the McCain campaign clearly hopes it will, the first thing you'll see is a short feature on how John McCain has cut a new anti-Obama ad featuring Ayers, Ayers and more Ayers. It's possible that this inspires you to think: Man, that terrorist-sympathizing Obama can't be trusted in an economic crisis. In that case, Steve Schmidt, Andy McCarthy and sundry others are political masterminds, and I am a plain fool.

But I don't think I'm a fool. I think McCain looks, to our hypothetical undecided, utterly disconnected from what's happening in the world, and the details of the Ayers connection, however troubling they might be in another context, blur away into a broader impression of a flailing, desperate, out-of-touch candidate. At this point, the McCain camp seems to be taking its cues more from the liberal caricature of past conservative campaigns - that they've all been fundamentally unserious exercises in culture-war button-pushing - than from the campaigns themselves. It's as though they're being paid under the table by Thomas Frank to goose his book sales and vindicate his thesis.

Realignment and Contingency

Via Yglesias, Larry Bartels analyzes the role of chance in realignments:

The 1936 election has become the most celebrated textbook case of ideological realignment of the American electorate. However, a careful look at state-by-state voting patterns suggests that this resounding ratification of Roosevelt's policies was strongly concentrated in the states that happened to enjoy robust income growth in the months leading up to the vote. (As usual, voters seem to have been quite myopic--huge variations in income growth in 1934 and 1935 had no discernible effect on 1936 voting patterns.) Indeed, the apparent impact of short-term economic conditions was so powerful that, if the recession of 1938 had occurred in 1936, Roosevelt would probably have been a one-term president.

Considering America's Depression-era politics in comparative perspective reinforces the impression that there may have been a good deal less real policy content to "throwing the bums out" than meets the eye. In the U.S., voters replaced Republicans with Democrats and the economy improved. In Britain and Australia, voters replaced Labor governments with conservatives and the economy improved. In Britain and Australia, voters replaced Labor governments with conservatives and the economy improved. In Sweden, voters replaced Conservatives with Liberals, then with Social Democrats, and the economy improved. In the Canadian agricultural province of Saskatchewan, voters replaced Conservatives with Socialists and the economy improved. In the adjacent agricultural province of Alberta, voters replaced a socialist party with a right-leaning funny-money party created from scratch by a charismatic radio preacher, and the economy improved. In Weimar Germany, where economic distress was deeper and longer-lasting, voters rejected all of the mainstream parties, the Nazis seized power, and the economy improved. In every case, the party that happened to be in power when the Depression eased dominated politics for a decade or more thereafter. It seems farfetched to imagine that all these contradictory shifts represented well-considered ideological conversions. A more parsimonious interpretation is that voters simply--and simple-mindedly--rewarded whoever happened to be in power when things got better.

Pundits, myself included, have a tendency to get caught up in broad cyclical theories of political parties, in which "ideological innovation" gives way to "ideological exhaustion," and parties retreat to the wilderness and then re-emerge all snazzed up and ready to make a comeback. There's a lot of truth to these theories, but it's also true that political history is both cyclical and extremely contingent. Thus while Ronald Reagan's election in 1980 was the result of deep, deep trends in American politics; it was also the result of a series of contingent events, from Watergate down to the Iran hostage crisis, that could easily have fallen out differently and resulted in Ted Kennedy-style Democrats or Nelson Rockefeller-style Republicans governing 1980s America instead.

This should offer conservatives reasons for optimism, in the midst of what looks like a potential liberal realignment: Contingency is still king, and there's nothing written in the stars that says the Right can't come back much, much faster than it looks capable of doing at the moment. But Bartels' argument also highlights the trouble with welcoming a retreat into the wilderness, as some conservatives (myself included) are sometimes wont to do: When you're out of power completely, you become a prisoner of events - and especially economic trends - in a way that a party with at least some hold on power isn't. Above all, you cede the ability to take any credit for good news - and given the broad upward trends that have defined American history to date, the typical Presidency is more likely to generate good news than not. Out-of-power parties often benefit dramatically from bad times in America: The GOP did in the late 1970s, and the Democrats have over the last four years. But the pattern of American history suggests that bad times are the exception rather than rule - and unless James Howard Kunstler's prophecies come true, a party that goes deep into the wilderness and waits for a crisis to bring it back to power stands a good chance of waiting for a long time. (And yes, that's a case for disaffected conservatives of all stripes - those who still have a stake in the GOP, that is; not the Larisonians of the world - swallowing hard and voting for McCain.)

October 8, 2008

The Limits of McCainism

Patrick Ruffini on the debate:

To me one thing stood out. John McCain's maverickness is not gone. McCain doesn't need to return to his old maverick self.  If anything, McCain's maverickness is the problem.

I noticed this whenever someone would ask about the economy. McCain would launch into a tirade against the greedy special interests on Wall Street. Obama would tend to lead with how it affected the voter. Two very different reactions. And I can't help but think that Obama's response connected better.

McCain has long tried to appropriate the populist, muckraking instincts of TR and the progressive Republicans. But there's a reason why these tactics haven't worked since, well, TR and the progressive Republicans.

Yes, voters may say they are mad about corporate pay, and Wall Street, and a do-nothing, self-aggrandizing Congress. But they are ultimately looking out for #1. The most relevant questions are and have always been: what are you going to do my taxes? my health care? my job?

This is why populism ultimately has such weak appeal. Sticking it to corporate CEOs and greedy politicians doesn't in and of itself put food on the table.

Conservatives have long understood populism as a weakness in liberal economic rhetoric, allowing us to win debates we otherwise would not have won by deploying more grounded, solution-oriented arguments (e.g. populist rants against trade and greedy CEOs who outsource vs. the direct benefits to the consumer of cheaper goods and services). But now this populist rhetoric is being visited on our own house.

In a time of crisis, people especially want to know what this means to them. And in this light, I can't help but think that John McCain's rush to indict distant bogeymen and his Senatese reminiscences about fighting the good fight against the bums in Washington fell a little flat.

I would quibble with what I think is Ruffini's somewhat narrow definition of populism, but overall he's right. This has always, always been a problem for McCain: His strongest instinct, when confronted with any domestic-policy problem, is to find a black hat to pin the blame on and then punish them for it, rather than looking for the smartest possible solution. And in a crisis that nobody really understands, and where the blame for what's happened runs through Main Street as well as Wall Street and Washington, McCain's usual "punish the bad guys" message just doesn't seem like what voters want to hear.

Home Economics

I can't believe Yglesias beat me to excerpting this snippet from George Packer's much-praised essay on the working class:

"These days, you have to struggle," she said. "As a kid, I used to be able to go to the movies or to the zoo. Now you can't take your children to the zoo or go to the movies, because you've got to think how you're going to put food on the table." Snodgrass's parents had raised four children on two modest incomes, without the ceaseless stress that she was enduring. But the two-parent family was now available only to the "very privileged." She said that she had ten good friends; eight of them were childless or, like her, unmarried with kids. "That's who's middle-class now," she said. "Two parents, two kids? That's over. People looked out for me. These kids nowadays don't have nobody to look out for them. You're one week away from (a) losing your job, or (b) not having a paycheck."
Matt goes on to reference Grand New Party's focus on precisely this issue, and then writes:

Of course the problem is that once you recognize the truth of this line of analysis, you're still left wondering what, exactly, you're supposed to do about it. Stopping committed gay and lesbian couples from getting married won't, in the real world, help people build the sort of stable family structures that are an important part of emotional and economic support and security for those who have it. Nor does it really seem plausible to me that any government safety net, no matter how generous, could realistically fully make up the gap. And it's hard for me to imagine a government "marriage promotion" initiative that's heavy-handed enough to be effective, but not so heavy-handed as to be frighteningly authoritarian. But as a pure matter of electoral politics, I think it would probably be easy enough for an enterprising politician to talk a little bit more explicitly about this kind of thing and that would probably help candidates connect with people who, not wrongly, see linkage in their lives between "cultural issues" about family life and the economic challenges facing their family.
I definitely agree with the last point, and I also agree about the limits of straightforward "marriage promotion" programs. But while there's clearly no domestic-policy silver bullet for the problem of high divorce rates and out-of-wedlock birth rates, I think there are things the government can do to sharpen the incentives - a favorite phrase of Reihan's - and have an impact on the margins. Some of the ideas we kick around in Grand New Party - a more family-friendly tax code; more support, through tax credits and subsidies, for parents who want to work part time or not at all while their kids are young; etc. - fall into this category: They're proposals that have the potential to ease the financial burden on working parents, a burden that's quite often at the root of family breakdown, and create a virtuous cycle in which parents are more likely to stay together, and their kids, down the road, are more likely to become responsible parents as well - since the children of stable families are more likely to form stable families themselves. The goal would be a short-run decrease in working-class divorce rates, and perhaps a long-term decrease in out-of-wedlock births as the benefits of greater familial stability are passed on to the next generation. Again, I'm under no illusions that tax policy and/or subsidization can have a massive impact here, but I think a family-friendly politics could offer at least a nudge, if you will, in the right direction.

The other half of the equation, in our view, would be reforms targeted at low-skilled males. One of the biggest reasons poor women have children out of wedlock is that the men in their demographic aren't really marriageable - they don't earn enough, they aren't working in the formal labor market, they're in and out of prison, etc. And it might be possible to improve their prospects (again, on the margins) - by reducing unskilled immigration, by reforming prisons while putting more cops on the beat, or even by developing a program of straightforward wage subsidies. (Though the last of these is a non-starter in the current fiscal climate: Of the big ideas we floated in GNP, it's the most expensive and the hardest to imagine the contemporary GOP - or the Dems, for that matter, though they'd probably be marginally more receptive - actually adopting.)

The Unplayed Card

Andy McCarthy isn't pleased:

... as the night went along, did you get the impression that Obama comes from the radical Left?  Did you sense that he funded Leftist causes to the tune of tens of millions of dollars? Would you have guessed that he's pals with a guy who brags about bombing the Pentagon? Would you have guessed that he helped underwrite raging anti-Semites? Would you come away thinking, "Gee, he's proposing to transfer nearly a trillion dollars of wealth to third-world dictators through the UN"? Nope. McCain didn't want to go there.

Great. Memo to McCain Campaign: Someone is either a terrorist sympathizer or he isn't; someone is either disqualified as a terrorist sympathizer or he's qualified for public office. You helped portray Obama as a clealy qualified presidential candidate who would fight terrorists. If that's what the public thinks, good luck trying to win this thing."  
You know, part of me actually wishes that John McCain had started talking about Bill Ayers, the Annenberg Challenge, Rashid Khalidi, and how the Global Poverty Act will line the pockets of Hugo Chavez. (Maybe in his answer to one of the questions about the economy - why not?) Because that way we wouldn't have to hear - as we will hear, from McCarthy and others, for months and years to come - that the biggest problem with the McCain campaign was that it just wasn't willing to really takes the gloves off and call Barack Obama a terrorist sympathizer.

Update: I just tweaked the last line, to make it clearer - hopefully - that I'm not calling Barack Obama a terrorist sympathizer myself. (Must ... dial ... down ... sarcasm.)

October 7, 2008

Insta-punditry

I'd call tonight's debate a draw, which if the dynamic from the first debate holds probably means it was a big win for Obama. I was gratified by the approach McCain took - by the absence of personal attacks (though, yes, the dislike still came through), by the attempt to actually engage with Obama on issues like health care, and yes, by the promise to buy up home mortgages, which was exactly the kind of blatantly panderish thing McCain needs to do if he wants to actually win this thing. (More on this tomorrow.) But Obama was unruffled and consistent - change vs. more of the same, change vs. more of the same, rinse and repeat - and for whatever it's worth the physical and generational contrast between the two men was very striking in this setting, and especially in the early going McCain seemed to me be showing his age as he delivered his answers. He improved as the night went on, but the vigor gap was palpable.

Oh, and everyone who's pointed out this wasn't anything like a real "town hall" meeting is exactly right. They should have just had Tom Brokaw moderate the thing, if this was the tone and format they were looking for. The whole thing had an unpleasant Potemkin feel to it, like the questioners were all afraid of what Brokaw might do to them if they strayed even modestly from the script.

Palin's Future (Or Lack Thereof)

Chris Orr lays down twenty bucks that Sarah Palin's future trajectory won't resemble anything like the optimistic scenario I sketched out here. I'd take the bet if he'd give me three-to-one odds! But yeah, at the moment it does seem more likely that Palin will be remembered as someone who was invited on board the U.S.S. Republican Party when it was already caught up in a vortex, and ended up lashing her career to its mast and going down with the ship.

McCain's Last Month (II)

Jay Cost makes the strongest possible case for campaigning on Ayers, Wright et. al. in the waning weeks of the election. He thinks that an issues-based campaign, pegged to McCain's bipartisan brand, made sense before the bottom dropped out of the economy; now, though, it's character or nothing. He notes that the sharpest, steepest drop in Obama's favorable numbers all year came during the initial wave of Wright-related coverage, and argues that this is the only avenue of attack that has a chance of shifting the race's dynamics:

Relative to past presidential nominees - Barack Obama has little relevant experience. His résumé is comparable to past "phenom" candidates Thomas Dewey and William Jennings Bryan. As a political matter, this means two things for Obama. First, as everybody knows, it is a direct weapon to use against him, which the McCain campaign has been doing for some time with its "Ready to Lead?" attacks.

Second, it means the definition of "Barack Obama" is more open to interpretation than other past nominees. The Obama campaign has used this vagueness to great effect. Simply put, because Obama has a slender record, he can be many things to many people. He can be the prophet of a new age to the chi tea crowd in Hyde Park, and a hardy Jacksonian fighter to the black coffee crowd in Youngstown. Politicians have been doing this dance routine for centuries. The fact that Obama's story is hardly conditioned by a paper trail enables him to do this with more facility than most contemporary politicians.

But this does not mean that Obama "is" only who he says he is. His thin record is potentially a double-edged sword because anybody can try to define him. With the mentioning of William Ayers, the GOP has just now begun the process of offering its alternative definition of the junior senator from Illinois. It waited until October because, as I noted last week, anywhere between 20% and 30% of the electorate is now making up its mind. This is the time to begin this process.

Like Poulos, I don't quite get that "begin" - I think the McCain campaign has been trying to redefine Obama's identity more or less all year; they've just been playing the "vacuous celebrity" and "tax-and-spend liberal" cards, and only now are turning over the "pals around with radicals" card because the others haven't worked. More generally, while I take the point about the potency of the Jeremiah Wright connection, my read on the situation is the opposite of Cost's: If there wasn't a single overriding issue like the economy on voters' minds, and if the two candidates were coming into the final month evenly matched - to the point where gaining a point or two with low-information voters or boosting your base's turnout by a point or two could make all the difference - then I think the gloves-off approach would have a chance of working. (Before the financial crisis hit, I confidently expected Wright to reappear down the stretch somehow, as a potential trump card for McCain in states where the polls were running very close.) But now, in these circumstances ... well, I think a rash of off-topic negative campaigning just makes the election look once and for all like "change versus change the subject," as Rich Lowry puts it today.

Blue America

Here's hoping you like the new design around these parts. The first issue of the redesigned and revamped magazine will be out within a week, and if for some reason you've never cottoned to the OnDeadTree Atlantic, I recommend picking it up on the newsstand and giving it a chance. (If you enjoy the blogs and feel guilty that you're getting all this great content for free, I even recommend subscribing.) My sole contribution to all this gorgeous retro-ness was to insist, with the aggrieved air of Steve Buscemi whining about his alias in Reservoir Dogs, that I wanted my blog's color to be blue. The fact that conservative America has been saddled - thanks to the vagaries of network-news color schemes and the closeness of the '00 election - with a hue long associated with international Communism and its enablers, while American liberalism gets to claim the color of the sea, the sky, and Frank Sinatra's eyes, is a small but obnoxious outrage, and as the Right prepares to enter the political wilderness I'm proud to do my part to at least reclaim our rightful color.

October 6, 2008

Bet On America

Past results don't predict future earnings and all that, but if you need a pick-me-up today, Will Wilkinson and Jim Manzi both should make you feel a little better.

McCain's Last Month

Allahpundit gets it:

What's the way out? An Ayers/Wright offensive simply isn't going to hack it; even I can't be bothered with it today between covering my face and peeking through my fingers at the sinking Dow. A sustained attack on the left over Fannie/Freddie will help, but I don't know how you push that message through to low-information voters with the time left. It seems unlikely in the extreme that people who don't follow this from day to day are to going react to a meltdown on Wall Street by electing the guy from the party commonly derided as a pawn of big business. On the contrary, the worse things get, the better The One's vacuous rhetoric sounds. After all, what surer tonic could there be for a looming depression than Hopenchange? Pricetag: $5 trillion. Horrifying exit quotation from an unnamed McCain advisor suggesting they're ready to give up: "If we keep talking about the economic crisis, we're going to lose." Note to Team Maverick -- you have no choice.
McCain is almost certainly going to lose this election. He can go down trying to talk about the issues that voters actually care about, and trying to make some headway in the debates that are going to dominate our politics for the next few years, or he can go down trying to change the subject. I really don't see any percentage in the latter.

From Willie Horton To William Ayers

Let's watch some vicious right-wing attack ads:


Okay, what was that ad about? "White racism!" cry the liberals. But table that argument for a moment: What else was it about? Crime. Take out the racial element, and you're still left with a devastatingly effective ad for an era - the late 1980s - when crime rates were near an all-time high.

Here's another one, just as infamous:


Again, what's this ad about? White racism? Again, table that debate - what else? Jobs. The Helms-Gantt Senate race took place in 1990, at a time when the Reagan boom was giving way to the Bush-era recession - and when North Carolina's manufacturing sector, in particular, was taking a big hit - and the ad's effectiveness depended almost entirely on its very direct connection to N.C. voters' economic anxieties.

Continue reading "From Willie Horton To William Ayers" »

The William Ayers He Knows

Discerning blog readers are probably aware that one of the biggest difficulties with the medium is that as far as the size of your traffic goes - and thus, in some ultimate sense, the size of your paycheck - it's much more important to write frequently than to write well. This creates unfortunate incentives for individual bloggers, who see near-constant posting rewarded with high traffic even when the quality of their posts suffer dramatically. And it creates a similar incentive problem for group blogs: The administrator has an incentive to extend posting privileges to an ever-larger crew, even when it means that bad material starts to crowd out the posts that made the blog worth reading in the first place. I can only assume that these perverse incentives explain the sudden election-eve presence of the novelist and professor Richard Stern on TNR's The Plank, usually one of my favorite liberal blogs; whatever Stern's merits as a novelist, his blogging style is near-parodic in its mix of pretension, vituperation, and "no enemies to the left" obliviousness.

Continue reading "The William Ayers He Knows" »