Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Instruments

The money that we possess is the instrument of liberty, that which we lack and strive to obtain is the instrument of slavery.

-- J. J. Rousseau, Confessions (1770)

In this week's Sift:

  • Storming Sacramento, Austin, Albany ... The same anti-government spending rhetoric that sent Tea Partiers marching against Washington also has them revolting against the "wasteful" spending of their state governments. But will the public see through the rhetoric when schools and libraries close -- not just in blue California but in red Texas as well?
  • Sarah Palin's Persecution Fantasy. With references to "blood libel" and "pogroms", conservatives paint themselves as victims of persecution comparable to Jews under the Czar. Maybe they've pushed it too far this time. Meanwhile, potential victims of media-inspired violence have developed a term to describe the threat they face: stochastic terrorism.
  • Short Notes. Your church contributions may not make it to God. McCain states have more gun violence than Obama states. More on Second Amendment solutions. Sean Hannity claims Kuwait's oil. An El Paso "traditional family values" organization learns the importance of legal expertise. Illegal foreclosures. And the difficult conundrums of superhero law.


Storming Sacramento, Austin, Albany ...

Recessions hit the states with a double whammy: Just as the number of people in need of state services goes up, revenues go down. And unlike the federal government, most states have legal restrictions on deficit spending. Last year, one-time-only accounting tricks (Arizona did a $735 million sale-and-leaseback agreement with its real estate, including the state capitol) and the federal stimulus (which included $165 billion in aid to the states) masked the problem. Basically, the federal government ran the deficit the states weren't allowed to run.

Now, as the stimulus money runs out, the economy is showing a few signs of bouncing back, but mostly for the relatively well-to-do. Even as the stock market rises into territory it hasn't seen for years, the unemployment and poverty rates -- and the consequent need for state programs -- remain high.

So budget problems are hitting the states hard now. The easy cuts have already been made, but huge deficits remain. And (despite Republican rhetoric favoring the states over the federal government), the Republican victory in November means that new aid to the states isn't going to come from Washington.

Within the states, the Tea Party denunciations of Washington have been reworded to attack Sacramento, Albany, Austin, and all the other state capitals. In state after state, a game of chicken is going on: How many of the poor and helpless have to suffer and even die, how far are we willing to cut education, how close does the state have to come to declaring bankruptcy, before new taxes can be approved?

(This game may go further than I thought. Saturday, conservative pundits Dick Morris and Eileen McGann posted a column proposing a state bankruptcy process that would allow states to break their union contracts the way that bankrupt corporations do. It's interesting how the Right regards contracts as sacred -- unless the contracts protect workers.)

Texas. Everybody talks about the budget problems in liberal states like California and New York, but things are just as bad in conservative strongholds like Texas, Nevada, Arizona, and Mississippi. Business Insider notes the Texas-sized hole in Texas' finances -- they're looking at a $25 billion deficit in a $95 billion two-year budget -- and then comments:

So why haven't we heard more about Texas, one of the most important economy's in America? Well, it's because it doesn't fit the script. It's a pro-business, lean-spending, no-union state. You can't fit it into a nice storyline, so it's ignored.

Illinois. Friday Illinois became the first state to successfully raise taxes in response to the current crisis. The income tax rate went up from 3% to 5%.

Illinois was looking at a $15 billion deficit. Democratic state rep Michael Zalewski justified the tax increase like this:

Since I’ve been elected in 2008, I have voted for every cut, every reform bill and the fact is there is no more money left and we can’t pay the people we owe money to.

California. California is facing the biggest deficit, in the $20-25 billion range. New Governor Jerry Brown has put forward a budget in which

the state's welfare program is cut in half, $1 billion is trimmed from its universities, and tens of thousands of elderly and disabled residents lose access to care at home.

On the revenue side, he wants the voters to approve the extension of temporary taxes otherwise due to expire.

California's problems have been due as much to politics as economics. In previous years, the legislature had to pass its budget with a 2/3 supermajority, which gave the Republican minority the ability to block attempts to raise revenue, even when the Republican governor (Schwarzenegger) asked them to. Brown is aided by a newly-passed ballot initiative that lets a mere majority pass a budget.

Local governments. The clearest evidence of the depths of the education-funding problem comes from Detroit. Last Monday, the Detroit Public Schools filed a plan to close half of their schools in two years, and increase the average high school class size to 62 from 35 now. Middle school class size would increase from 35 to 47. Matt Yglesias comments:

obviously this is death spiral stuff—the more the city pares back, the more the people with means and opportunity will leave and the worse things will become.

In all these state and local governments, the debate resembles the national debate: Conservative rhetoric says that the budget is full of wasteful spending, but is careful not to identify anything specific. When cuts arrive, they are not "waste" by any means. Real services to real people are eliminated or cut back.

It will be interesting to see if people catch on when the cuts are closer to home. On the national level, keeping taxes low for the wealthy means we have the abstract problem of a budget deficit. But on the state and local level, low taxes may mean closing the local library, sending your child to an over-crowded and poorly maintained school, driving over potholes, and watching people die for lack of medical care.

Like the children of misers, at some point Americans will start to resent living as if our country were poor, when in fact it is rich. Unlike Botswana or Bangladesh, America can afford to have smooth roads and good schools. We can afford to take care of our sick and give pensions to our elders. We can afford to have safe communities and clean, reliable transportation systems. And we can afford to pay a living wage to the public employees who provide these services. The only question is whether we can raise enough faith in ourselves and our democracy to do so.



Sarah Palin's Persecution Fantasy

Like most reasonable people, I was taken aback that Sarah Palin would use the term blood libel to describe the claim that heated political rhetoric from people like her makes political shootings more likely. How ridiculous, I thought, to compare criticism of Palin's rhetoric to the outlandish claims that led to pogroms against Jews in Europe. (The Washington Times, by contrast, felt that Palin was "well within her rights to feel persecuted" and called the incident "the latest round of an ongoing pogrom against conservative thinkers." It is, I think, a very strange kind of persecution that gives you your own TV show, pays you millions of dollars, and requires only that you submit to some toothless criticism in the media. It's a far cry from the Jewish experience in 19th century Ukraine, or even Fiddler on the Roof.)

Having watched the video and read the text of Palin's statement, though, I found it more boring than incendiary, so I wound up concluding that she just didn't know what blood libel means. It's ignorance, not bomb-throwing. Probably she used the term because it had been ricocheting around in conservative circles for several days.

Another bizarre notion in Palin's statement (which also is widespread in conservative circles) is the idea that individual and social responsibility are mutually exclusive:

President Reagan said, “We must reject the idea that every time a law’s broken, society is guilty rather than the lawbreaker. It is time to restore the American precept that each individual is accountable for his actions.”

It didn't make any sense when Reagan said it, and it still doesn't. If violent rhetoric or the prevalence of guns raises the likelihood of events like the Tucson shooting, how does that let Loughner off the hook? The Right understands this perfectly well in regard to terrorism: They can denounce the rhetoric of radical imams without letting suicide bombers off the hook.

And Palin herself says that the "blood libel" put forward by her critics "serves only to incite the very hatred and violence they purport to condemn." So Palin understands how criticism of her can cause violence, but not how anything she could possibly say could contribute to violence.

The technical term for this mindset -- that the world works differently for you than for everybody else -- is narcissism, but that goes right past the average person. If only there were a non-sexist way to say "drama queen".


Slate's William Saletan spins the tea-party/Muslim analogy in a different direction:

That's what Palin believes. Each person is solely accountable for his actions. Acts of monstrous criminality "begin and end with the criminals who commit them." It's wrong to hold others of the same nationality, ethnicity, or religion "collectively" responsible for mass murders.

Unless, of course, you're talking about Muslims. In that case, Palin is fine with collective blame.

How else can we account for her opposition to the Ground Zero Mosque?

"Blood libel," as defined by The Concise Oxford Dictionary of World Religions, is historically targeted not at a country but at a religion. Palin's campaign against any Muslim house of worship near Ground Zero, based on group blame for terrorism, fits that definition more closely than does any current accusation against the Tea Party.


There's now a term to describe those who use the media to stir up crazy people to do their dirty work for them: stochastic terrorism. Daily Kos' G2geek defines:

Stochastic terrorism is the use of mass communications to stir up random lone wolves to carry out violent or terrorist acts that are statistically predictable but individually unpredictable.

Palin's crosshair graphic is not actually a good example of this (the Palin-Loughner connection is too tenuous), but Glenn Beck's crusade against the Tides Foundation is. Hardly anyone had heard of the Tides Foundation when Beck started slandering it in May 2009. Media Matters found 29 separate shows between then and July 14, 2010 where Beck attacked Tides, demonizing it as part of the George-Soros funded effort to take over America.

On July 18, Byron Williams was pulled over by police and opened fire on them. He was heavily armed and said he wanted to "to start a revolution by traveling to San Francisco and killing people of importance at the Tides Foundation." Only his inability to drive there without drawing police attention prevented him from having a body count like Jared Loughner's.


As a follow-up to last week's article on political correctness, let's consider the would-be defenders of the white race who want you to boycott Marvel's upcoming Thor movie because the Norse god Heimdall is being played by a black actor, the excellent Idris Elba (recently seen as the star of BBC's "Luther").

Where to start? Did you thinkMarvel's Thor comics had given an accurate account of Norse mythology up to now? Does a pop-culture misrepresentation of a second-tier god like Heimdall cramp your style religiously? When was the last time you worshipped Heimdall, anyway?

Fundamentally, this is another attempt to equate slights against whites with superficially similar slights against other races, and so support the idea that whites suffer persecution too. But there is no comparison. No anti-white stereotype is being supported or reinforced. No whites will be discriminated against because of some unconscious social conviction that divinity must be black. The persecution occurs entirely in fantasy.



Short Notes

Richard Florida and Charlotta Mellander ran the numbers on shooting deaths and found no positive correlation with the number of drug users, illegal immigrants, or a lot of other alleged explanations. But they did find this:

Taking the voting patterns from the 2008 presidential election, we found a striking pattern: Firearm-related deaths were positively associated with states that voted for McCain (.66) and negatively associated with states that voted for Obama (-.66). Though this association is likely to infuriate many people, the statistics are unmistakable. Partisan affiliations alone cannot explain them; most likely they stem from two broader, underlying factors - the economic and employment makeup of the states and their policies toward guns and gun ownership.

As I've explained many times in the Sift, correlation is not the same thing as cause-and-effect. So it would be irrational to jump to the conclusion that we could save lives by getting more states to vote Democratic in 2012. It seems worth a try, though.


The new head of the Republican National Committee is Reince Priebus. I just heard someone describe him as "a name straight out of Hogwarts". As Sharoney observed, the consonants in his name spell out RNC PR BS.


As she so often does, Digby avoids the distractions and gets to the important point:

The real problem, in my view, is that there is a subset of Americans who believe that government is illegitimate if their chosen leaders aren't elected. They simply don't believe in democracy.

That's what I see in all this talk about "Second Amendment solutions". Yes, at least some of the Founders did want the people to retain the means of revolution if democracy failed. But the failing they had in mind is what you see in faux-democratic countries like Egypt or Iran, where the government can close opposition newspapers, arrest opposition candidates, and stuff the ballot box when things get tense for them.

But Tea Party folks started talking about assassination and armed insurrection just because their candidates lost and Barack Obama won. The electoral system was working fine, it just got the "wrong" answer. Resorting to guns in that situation is the exact opposite of what the Founders had in mind.


Shepard Fairey's "Second Amendment Solutions" poster says: "It's not the bullet with my name on it that worries me. It's the one that says 'to whom it may concern'."


According to Sean Hannity, Kuwait and Iraq should be paying us for their liberation by providing cheap energy. And if they don't see it that way,

We have every right to go in there and, frankly, take all their oil.

Apparently we just loaned these countries their freedom, and if they miss a payment we can foreclose.


Once in a while, the Religious Right gets burned by its disdain for intelligence and expertise. Take El Paso, for example. An anti-gay group called El Paso for Traditional Family Values wanted to make sure that same-sex partners of city employees couldn't get benefits, so they got voters to pass a ballot initiative saying so -- or so they thought. Local station KVIA reports:

The ordinance drafted by EPFTFV asked voters to ‘endorse traditional family values’ by extending health insurance only to city employees, their spouses and dependent children. That left out a lot of people the city already covered, including elected officials, retirees, grandchildren, and affiliated contractors – those are agencies formed by City Council, like the Public Service Board and the Transportation Board. ... The city maintains it must implement the ordinance using its plain language, which excludes hundreds of people. City Rep. Steve Ortega and Mayor John Cook have said they told EPFTFV leaders to hire an attorney to draft the ordinance. The organization did not do that.

Oops.

A federal judge has issued a temporary injunction that keeps the law from taking effect until he can rule on a suit challenging its constitutionality.  Among other things, plaintiffs are charging that the law is too vague to be enforceable:

The Judge asked all three lawyers to provide a legal definition of ‘traditional family values’ that could be found in state or federal law, statute or jurisprudence. None of them could.

Damn those meddling federal judges and their definitions and constitutions and legalistic claptrap. Can't they just let the Holy Spirit speak through them?


TPM recalls some of the more egregious recent political rhetoric suggesting violence or using violent metaphors.


Salon's Glenn Lafantasie points out that, although we always treat political shootings as one-of-a-kind exceptions to our democratic process, in fact they are part of a longstanding pattern in our politics.

American political violence is a direct legacy of the American Revolution, for the patriots’ victory in that conflict proved to the American people that violence could achieve a positive end: independence and the creation of a new nation. It is a troubling, but inescapable, bequest that stems from the fact that our nation was born in violence, and it derives from the reality that violence has ever since become not only the device of criminals, but also of government and those who disagree with the government.

The NYT reports:

in the grand Venn diagram of life, there appears to be substantial overlap between lawyers and the people Mr. Daily lovingly refers to as “comic book nerds.”

The result is a blog. Law and the Multiverse: Superheroes, supervillains, and the law.

I mean, there are important issues to work out: How much responsibility do you have for the damage done by your super-powered minor child?What kind of retirement plan does an immortal need? Is there any way Bruce Wayne could openly fund Batman without becoming legally responsible for the damage he does? Is mind control a valid criminal defense?

Don't wait until a radioactive spider bites you and it's too late. Learn your rights now.


Tea Partiers aren't racists, of course. But when they get into office in Raleigh, North Carolina their first acts include undoing the longstanding school-desegregation plan, and replacing it with ... well, nothing really.


It should be no great surprise that the same bankers who loaned money to people who had no hope of paying it back also failed to handle the mortgage paperwork correctly. The result is that the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court now holds that huge numbers of foreclosures were illegal.

The Boston Globe's Paul McMorrow reports on the implications:

I took a random sample of 30 foreclosure deeds from Chelsea (one of the cities hit hardest by foreclosures) since the beginning of 2006. Of those 30 foreclosure cases, 10 had paperwork on file with the Registry of Deeds that raised the sort of chain-of-custody concerns at the heart of the Ibanez decision. In one case, no mortgage was on file with the registry. Another showed no paperwork assigning the note to a mortgage servicer. In other cases, mortgage originators didn’t sign off on documents transferring the notes into mortgage pools, or transfer paperwork was filed after a foreclosure occurred. All of the properties have since been re-sold.

The Weekly Sift appears every Monday afternoon. If you would like to receive it by email, write to WeeklySift at gmail.com. Or keep track of the Sift by following the Sift's Facebook page.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Consequences

If this Congress keeps going the way it is, people are really looking toward those Second Amendment remedies and saying, "My goodness what can we do to turn this country around?" I'll tell you the first thing we need to do is take Harry Reid out. -- Reid's Republican opponent Sharron Angle (January, 2010)

We're on Sarah Palin's targeted list. But the thing is that the way that she has it depicted has the crosshairs of a gunsight over our district. When people do that, they've gotta realize there's consequences to that action. -- Rep. Gabrielle Giffords (March, 2010)

In this week's Sift:

  • The Rhetoric and Reality of Violence. The shooting of Rep. Giffords calls attention to the sanctioning of violent rhetoric by officials at all levels of the Republican Party.
  • Privilege, Political Correctness, and the New Huck Finn. A bowdlerized new version of the Mark Twain classic gives me a hook to debunk conservative rhetoric about political correctness.
  • Scalia's Law. Nobody should be shocked when Justice Scalia denies that the Constitution protects women's rights. All originalists believe that. Their theory needs to be attacked head-on, not issue-by-issue.
  • Look for a double helping of Short Notes next week.


The Rhetoric and Reality of Violence

As of this morning, no one had pinpointed a clear motive for Jared Loughner to shoot Rep. Gabrielle Giffords and 19 other people, six of whom have died, including federal judge John Roll. No one has found a political manifesto, like the one Jim David Adkisson wrote before killing two people at a Knoxville church in 2008. (He claimed to be inspired by Bernard Goldberg's culture-war book 100 People Who Are Screwing Up America.) Or like Scott Roeder, the anti-abortion crusader who murdered George Tiller (also in church) in 2009. Or white supremacist James Von Brunn, who killed a security guard at the Holocaust Museum in 2009. Or anti-tax activist Joe Stack, who crashed an airplane into an IRS office building in Austin in 2010, killing Vernon Hunter.

Loughner appears to be insane to the point that his specific motives, if they ever come out, might be hard to understand. As the NYT editorialized:

It is facile and mistaken to attribute this particular madman’s act directly to Republicans or Tea Party members. But it is legitimate to hold Republicans and particularly their most virulent supporters in the media responsible for the gale of anger that has produced the vast majority of these threats, setting the nation on edge.

As they always do, right-wingers are claiming that both sides are equally responsible. And of course they can point to signs threatening President Bush and so forth.

DSC_0033_sm.jpg

What they can't produce, though, is any equivalent of the Sharron Angle quote at the top of the page. No Democratic candidate for a major office so directly called for the assassination of an opponent. And that was not a mis-step; Angle stuck by it:

What is a little bit disconcerting and concerning is the inability for sporting goods stores to keep ammunition in stock. That tells me the nation is arming. What are they arming for if it isn't that they are so distrustful of their government? They're afraid they'll have to fight for their liberty in more Second Amendment kinds of ways? That's why I look at this as almost an imperative. If we don't win at the ballot box, what will be the next step?

What indeed? In the Democratic Party, you stand down and start working to win the next election. But within the Republican Party, Angle suffered no consequences for suggesting violence instead. Her statements were not condemned by the leadership, she continued to get funding from national Republican organizations, and big-name Republicans continued to endorse her and campaign for her, causing Rachel Maddow to ask:

Is this considered a mainstream position now? Everybody down with this idea? RNSC, RNC, are you guys okay with this?

Apparently they were and are. At the highest levels of the Republican Party, calling for violence is considered acceptable political rhetoric. In the Democratic Party, it isn't.

There are and always will be nutcases on both ends of the political spectrum. And there will always be ordinary people of all stripes who blow off steam by making meaningless threats. But one party welcomes and stokes that rhetoric, while the other party doesn't.

That's the difference.


I've been on this story for a while: here and here, for example.


Check out this more complete list of recent incidents.



Privilege, Political Correctness, and the New Huck Finn

As soon as I finished How to Speak Conservative: Class warfare, I planned to follow it up with a comparable explanation of political correctness. But PC is a little more complicated, so that article kept failing to come together and then getting crowded out by other topics.

This week I got my hook: There's a new edition of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn that changes the word nigger to slave. It's paired with a new edition of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer that changes Injun Joe to Indian Joe.

I imagine that the editor of this travesty believes he's being a good liberal, but in fact he's being a conservative's parody of a liberal. The conservative assault has been so successful that few people even remember the real liberalism behind the parody and what it has been trying to accomplish.

Let's start with the parody, because it is so much more familiar. As conservatives tell the story, groups that (for incomprehensible reasons) consider themselves to be oppressed -- blacks, women, gays, and some others -- are sensitive to words like nigger, bitch, and fag. The words -- not the people who use the words or the hostile intentions the words embody, but the words themselves -- offend sensitive feelings. Liberals care much more about feelings than about liberty, so they want to ban the words.

This creates absurd situations (similar to the stoning scene in Monty Python's Life of Brian or the porch monkey scenein Clerks II), and allows conservatives like Rush Limbaugh or Ann Coulter to look brave and edgy by using the banned words. Rush and Ann become like the Kevin Bacon character in Footloose, breaking the stupid rules that keep people from having fun.

Start over. Now let's put the conservative parody out of our minds and start over from the absolute beginning. Why, exactly, shouldn't we say nigger?

The serious problem isn't that the word nigger hurts blacks' feelings. What conservatives implicitly deny by focusing on feelings is that blacks are harmed in a very real sticks-and-stones sense by white privilege. White privilege is justified by a negative stereotype of blacks. (We are deserving because they are undeserving.) And the word nigger can be used to invoke and solidify that stereotype.

Now let's go through that a little slower and include some other words.

It starts with privilege. When you boil privilege down to its essence, it amounts to this: If you're privileged, society grants you an exemption from the Golden Rule. You have the right to be outraged if you are not treated with a certain respect, but when others are denied the same respect, that's not your problem. You don't even have to think about it. It's just the way things are.

So, you can use a public bus, but a person in a wheelchair can't; you and your lover can get married, but a same-sex couple can't; a taxi will stop for you, but not for a person of color; public information is displayed in your language, but not somebody else's; police look at your skin and your clothes and decide to hassle somebody else, not you; public officials listen to your complaints, but not to other people's; all over the world, miners and factory workers risk their lives to produce things for you, but you don't have to risk your life for anybody; when someone who looks like you gets an undeserved promotion, everyone takes it in stride, but if someone who looks different from you does, it's an issue.

That's privilege. Don't think about it. You didn't do it; it's just the way things are. If you do think about it, that's so magnanimous of you, to consider granting other people the benefits you enjoy without controversy. Even if you ultimately shake your head and decide that it's too expensive or society isn't ready yet, you're such a great person even to consider it.

Some Golden-Rule exemptions are less passive. You can insult people who don't dare insult you back. You can expect to be waited on, and not wait on anyone else. You can spread malicious gossip about other people, knowing that your lies propagate easily and quickly, while their lies about you die out.

So the first reason to avoid calling someone a nigger or a fag is that there is nothing they can call you back. (Honky? Cracker? Don't be silly. They don't sting the same way. And I can't even think of derogatory term for heterosexuals.) You are doing unto others something that can't be done back to you.

It's the stereotypes, not the words. The reason words like nigger sting is that they refer to detailed stereotypes built up over centuries, stereotypes made up not just of words, but of entire stories and images. So nigger doesn't just mean black, it means lazy, shiftless, stupid, thieving, slutty, drunken, apelike, and more. (That's why there's no comparison between liberals who nicknamed President Bush "Chimpy" and conservatives who marketed the Obama Monkey. "Chimpy" insults Bush exactly to the extent that he personally resembles a chimp. There's no anti-white or anti-anything-Bushlike stereotype for "Chimpy" to evoke.)

A stereotype also contains judgments: A nigger doesn't really count as a person -- as Mark Twain made explicit in this exchange between Huck and Aunt Sally:

"It warn't the grounding -- that didn't keep us back but a little. We blowed out a cylinder-head."
"Good gracious! anybody hurt?"
"No'm. Killed a nigger."
"Well, it's lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt."

That's how stereotypes hold a system of privilege in place. A nigger, fag, or bitch is someone to whom the Golden Rule doesn't apply. You can't beat up a person who hasn't done anything to you, but you can beat up a fag -- they don't count. If you steal from one of those money-grubbing kikes, you're just taking back something they cheated from somebody else. If you slap a bitch around, she was asking for it -- you know how they are. You don't have to make a specific case against the individual; the case was already made long ago against fags, kikes, and bitches in general.

So the larger point of getting rid of words like nigger is to remove access to the stereotypes they evoke. When the privileged have to refer to other people respectfully (the way they naturally expect other people to refer to them), then the judgments that are implicit in the stereotypes have to be either dropped or explicitly defended. If you're hitting a person, and not a fag or a bitch, you'd better explain yourself. If a young black lawyer (not a buck or a nigger) has applied to your law firm, you need a reason to turn him down. It doesn't go without saying any more. It's not just how things are.

Whitewashing history. You have undoubtedly noticed that in this article I have used all sorts of "bad" words. That's because I wanted to evoke the stereotypes. I wanted to evoke them so that we could look at them.

If we banish the words entirely, we lose our handle on the stereotypes; we lose our ability to critique them or diagnose them properly. And if we banish them from our literature, it's as if the whole history of oppression never happened.

A few years ago on Daily Kos, I started a discussion about the whitewashing of recent history. Some younger Kossacks were shocked to discover that "Eenie, Meenie, Minie, Moe" used to say nigger rather than tiger. How would they have known? The older rhyme has just vanished, as if none of us ever said it.

Whites aren't doing this to diminish the anti-black stereotype. We're doing it to cover our tracks. The history of racial oppression embarrasses us, so we make it nicer.

Here's my conclusion: When you're wondering whether to use a racial slur or some bowdlerized version like the N-word, ask yourself: Am I using the power of the stereotype against the oppressed group, or am I calling out the stereotype to diminish it or to own up to my own role in maintaining it?

If it's the former, back off. If it's the later, go ahead and say the word. Otherwise, the only person you're protecting is yourself.

Huck. One of the many reasonsHuck Finn is a great book is that it accurately documents an era. The world of Huck Finn is not a nice place, just like the worlds of Night and Fog or The Sopranos are not nice places. We can't make them nice without destroying them. Students who aren't mature enough to go there shouldn't go there.



Scalia's Law

Justice Scalia raised a predictable furor with an interview he gave to California Lawyer magazine. But anyone who was shocked to hear a Supreme Court justice deny any constitutional basis for women's rights hasn't been paying attention. Scalia quotes like this are nothing new:

Certainly the Constitution does not require discrimination on the basis of sex. The only issue is whether it prohibits it. It doesn't. Nobody ever thought that that's what it meant. Nobody ever voted for that.

Scalia says these things because he subscribes to the theory of law known as originalism, which he describes in the interview like this:

In its most important aspects, the Constitution tells the current society that it cannot do [whatever] it wants to do. It is a decision that the society has made that in order to take certain actions, you need the extraordinary effort that it takes to amend the Constitution.

To an originalist, the meaning of any phrase in the Constitution was frozen at the time it was written. If you want something else to be constitutional, you need to pass an amendment -- which will then mean for all time what you think it means today.

If you want to argue with someone like Scalia, you need to argue with Originalism, not just with the idea that women shouldn't have constitutional rights. The point of the law is to be legal, not necessarily moral. ("This is a court of law, young man," legendary Justice Oliver Wendall Holmes is said to have scolded an idealistic young lawyer, "not a court of justice.") So you need more than moral outrage; you need an alternate interpretation.

I've highlighted non-originalist legal viewpoints twice in the previous year: in my review of David Strauss' book The Living Constitution and in excerpts from Justice Souter's commencement address at Harvard Law School.

Let's apply that thinking here. The relevant portion of 14th Amendment says:

No State shall ... deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

The conservative "judicial activism" trope claims that liberal judges just project their own feelings into the Constitution, but that's plainly not what's happening here with women's rights. If you read the text in the most obvious way, women are "persons" and any law that discriminates against them does not give them the "equal protection" promised by the amendment. It's a no-brainer.

"But wait," an originalist would say, "you're reading the text through 21st century eyes. The people who passed the 14th Amendment in 1868 discriminated against women all the time, and most of that discrimination wasn't even controversial. They clearly didn't believe they were establishing equal rights for women."

And that's absolutely true. If the people of 1868 had held our current interpretation of the 14th Amendment, the people of 1920 wouldn't have had to pass the 19th Amendment giving women the right to vote. Surely any law that gives men (but not women) the right to vote is denying "the equal protection of the laws" to women. Right?

But here's the problem with originalism: What people think they're doing at any given point in time is usually not completely coherent. As Justice Souter said:

[The Constitution's] language grants and guarantees many good things, and good things that compete with each other and can never all be realized, all together, all at once.

So the people of 1868 were simultaneously guaranteeing "equal protection of the laws" to all "persons" and denying women the right to vote. According to Jack Balkin, here's how that worked, at least for married women:

under [the common-law doctrine of coverture] women lost most of their common law rights upon marriage under the fiction that their legal identities were merged with their husbands.

Today, after countless laws have ignored coverture without repealing it, how are judges supposed to apply the "original intent" of the 14th amendment? It's not enough to say, "The people of 1868 would have made sense out of that somehow." We, today, need to have some coherent account of what "equal protection of the laws" means. And we need to be able to apply it in situations that the people of 1868 never envisioned. (Does a transgendered person have the rights of a man or a woman?)

And that brings us to Strauss' common-law theory of interpretation. Strauss takes for granted that as times change, we are increasingly confronted with the incoherence of the intentions of past lawmakers. They wanted "many good things" and didn't foresee all the ways that change would bring those good things into conflict. They espoused high principles without grasping all the ways that the practices of their era contradicted those principles.

They were, in short, human.

The job of the judge, then, is not just to apply lawmakers' intentions, but also to resolve the inconsistencies in lawmakers' intentions, so that the law continues to be applicable. That's what is meant by a "living Constitution". It's an ongoing process, and occasionally so much change has happened or the original intentions were so contradictory that we wind up with interpretations that would have appalled the original lawmakers. (Same-sex marriage, for example.)

Judges have an obligation to use their interpretative power prudently, responding to real inconsistencies and resolving them with as little violence to the original intentions as possible. And overwhelmingly throughout our history they have, even in decisions that are sweeping reversals of past interpretations. (Strauss describes Brown v. Board of Education not as a sudden revolution, but as the culmination of a decades-long case-by-case process in which courts tried to make separate-but-equal work, until by 1954 it was obvious that it couldn't work. A similar story can be told about Roe v. Wade.)

Most work that gets characterized as "liberal judicial activism" is like that: the end of a long prudent process of resolving inconsistencies, not a sudden attack of some judge's personal idealism.

So when Scalia contends that the only alternative to originalism is anarchy:

Now if you give to those many provisions of the Constitution that are necessarily broad—such as due process of law, cruel and unusual punishments, equal protection of the laws—if you give them an evolving meaning so that they have whatever meaning the current society thinks they ought to have, they are no limitation on the current society at all.

he's sweeping the real problem under the rug. It isn't that we want these phrases to mean whatever we want; it's that we want them to mean something coherent. Interpreting equal protection to defend women's rights may not be original, but it is coherent. What alternative interpretation is?


Of course there's simpler objection to Scalia's position, which is that he doesn't apply originalism consistently. The 14th Amendment is also the basis of the Citizens United decision (which Scalia supported) and all decisions that uphold corporate personhood.

Corporate personhood is indefensible from an originalist point of view. No one can make the case that the people of 1868 believed that they were granting rights to corporations. The only explanation I can find for an originalist to support corporate personhood is partisanship: The Court's majority is conservative, and conservative bread is buttered by corporations.

Jack Balkin notes some additional inconsistencies in Scalia's originalism.

The Weekly Sift appears every Monday afternoon. If you would like to receive it by email, write to WeeklySift at gmail.com. Or keep track of the Sift by following the Sift's Facebook page.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Citizens and Consumers

Once we have left the state of nature, we require the existence of society

-- Alan Wolfe, The Future of Liberalism (2009)

In this week's Sift:



Manning and Assange: Two Very Different Roles in WikiLeaks

More than one person has spontaneously mentioned the WikiLeaks controversy to me in the past week, so it must be provoking more attention than I thought it would.

There are a lot of angles to this story, but this week I want to focus on the fact that the two main characters in the story play very different roles: Private Bradley Manning is alleged to be the source of the leaks, and Julian Assange is the public face of WikiLeaks, the organization that published the information on the internet. They tend to get lumped together, and they shouldn't be.

Bradley Manning. Manning had a security clearance and a sworn duty to protect classified information. If he did leak it, whatever his motives and whether the result of the leak is good or bad, he is guilty of something, possibly treason. Civil disobedience, even if it turns out to have been justified, has a cost -- which I hope Manning considered prior to whatever he did.

However, he has not been convicted of anything yet, either in a civilian court or a military court martial, but since May he has been held in conditions Glenn Greenwald characterizes as "cruel and unusual punishment". People who concern themselves with the Constitution ought to be concerned about this, since cruel and unusual punishment -- even for people convicted of something -- is banned by the Eighth Amendment.

Manning's treatment re-introduces a question Atul Gawande asked in The New Yorker in 2009: Is long-term solitary confinement torture? Increasingly, it looks like the answer is yes. People deprived of contact with anyone but their interrogators tend to break down in ways that are not easily repaired afterward. (Sensory deprivation -- as we did to Jose Padilla long before he was convicted of anything -- is even worse.)

Legitimate punishment is temporary: Other than the special case of life imprisonment for murder, you should be able to pay your debt to society and go back to what remains of your life. That's why we don't cut off hands like the Saudis do. That's not punishment, that's maiming. Well, long-term solitary confinement turns out to be maiming also.

It's worth pointing out how totally this phenomenon contradicts the prevailing glorification of individuality and denigration of the importance of community. Putting it bluntly, individuality is not sustainable. You are who you are only in the context of some community. Take human contact away for a long enough time, and you'll cease to be much of anybody.

Julian Assange. There is a question about whether the rape accusation against Assange in Sweden is real or trumped-up. It certainly resembles the conveniently-timed sex charge against Iraq-WMD whistle-blower Scott Ritter -- which doesn't mean that it's false, just convenient for the powers that be.

In any case, Assange's personal legal situation has little to do with WikiLeaks itself. Assange is not an American, has no agreement with the U.S. government, and has no legal responsibility to protect U.S. secrets. It's also not clear that getting him out of the picture would affect the WikiLeaks organization in any way. It is as if someone handed me a bunch of Japanese government secrets. Why should I be obligated not to publish them?

Finally, there should be no legal difference between Assange and the New York Times. "Newspaper publisher" is not a special class of people protected by the Constitution. If newspapers are not prosecuted for publishing leaks, Assange should not be either.



The Sift Bookshelf: Consumed by Benjamin Barber

Every American participates in shaping society in two ways: As a consumer, your participation in the market helps decide which products succeed or fail. As a citizen, your participation in government helps shape our country's policies.

Consumed: How markets corrupt children, infantilize adults, and swallow citizens whole is about the increasing conflict between those two roles, which corresponds to an increasing conflict between capitalism and democracy.

The root of the problem Barber presents is capitalism's success in satisfying all the genuine needs of people who have money, creating a situation in which "the needy are without income and the well-heeled are without needs." If the economy is to continue growing, either government has to tax money away from the well-heeled and spend it on the needs of the poor, or people with money have to be convinced to want things they never wanted before.

To a certain extent we have done both over the last century, but increasingly we are taking the second course. Consequently, economic growth no longer depends on production (as it did in the 19th century) but on marketing -- convincing people who already have enough to want more -- to want things they have gotten along without all their lives.

To a certain extent, this can be done by inventing useful products that people never imagined before. (My grandmother never imagined a cellphone. But if she had, she would have wanted one.) But increasingly demand is created by convincing people to want things that are more-or-less useless. (You don't really want jeans -- you have jeans -- you want the designer signature on the jeans. You don't really want a car -- you have a car -- you want the newness of the car.)

Who are the easiest people to sell useless things to? Children. And so marketing has increasingly gone in two directions: selling things to children, and encouraging adults to be more childish.

And that creates a problem, because citizens need to be adults. To make good public policy, you need to see beyond your own personal passions and whims and fears-of-the-moment. You need to think about what is good for us, collectively, over the long term.

It's easy to think that this conflict has always been with us, but actually not. When capitalism was mainly focused on production, when America really needed more food, more shoes, and more steel, capitalism and democracy both needed adults. The so-called "Protestant work ethic" was an adult ethic: show up on time, meet your commitments, work hard, control your appetites, and delay consumption so that you have capital to invest in projects of lasting value. The same virtues that made you a productive worker or businessman also made you a good citizen.

(This explains why colonial powers who tried to teach capitalism to the natives often described those natives as children. The colonists were trying to spread the values of capitalist production -- values that corresponded to adulthood in their home country.)

But the childish traits of an easily-sold consumer make you a bad citizen. A marketer's ideal consumer is an impulsive, short-sighted, self-centered person whose better judgment is easily overwhelmed by the passions of the moment. You can't build a genuine democracy out of such people. They will not thoughtfully envision the future they want for their country and work towards it. Instead, they will enter a voting booth the way they enter a supermarket -- grumbling, perhaps, that the products are not as good as they used to be, but not imagining that they could or should do anything to make them better.

Cake's song Comfort Eagle sums up very concisely:

Some people drink Pepsi, some people drink Coke.
The wacky morning DJ says democracy's a joke.

Barber's contrast between the childish consumer and the adult citizen makes sense out of a lot of current problems. The market offers me choices, but not the society-shaping choices I need as a citizen. Do I want cheap gas or expensive gas? Well, cheap gas, of course. Perhaps the long-term future of my community (Nashua, NH) would be better served by a gas tax that funded a commuter train to Boston, but the market does not offer me that choice. Only democracy does. To the extent that we think "government is the problem" and everything should have a market solution, we are moving such choices off the table.

The citizen/consumer split also explains what's wrong with globalization. It's not just the trade deficit or that we are shifting jobs to China. The root problem is that we have global capitalism but not global democracy. So when decisions get globalized, I can participate only as a consumer and not as a citizen. My Coke/Pepsi preference is respected, but my concern about global warming is not. (You can try to use your consumer power to promote your values as a citizen -- buying dolphin-safe tuna, for example -- but it's like pounding nails with a wrench. The market is the wrong tool for the job.)

Barber's conclusion is that (left to its own devices) capitalism will not only undermine democracy, but in so doing also destroy the social conditions that make capitalism possible. A potential catastrophe awaits, but Barber does not think it is inevitable. The path to avoiding it is (in the large scale) clear: We need a re-awakening of citizenship locally and nationally, and brand new institutions for expressing global citizenship.

How these are to come about, though, he sees less clearly, and debunks several of the more obvious options (like achieving citizen goals through consumer power). His faith is more of a general faith in the inventiveness of humanity when faced with a challenge.

I share that faith to an extent, but the question is how close to the abyss we'll have to come before we turn back. The economic disaster of 2007-2008 (which started just after Consumed was published) seems to have changed very little. Clearly something bigger will have to happen to turn things around.


As much as I learned from Consumed, I can't whole-heartedly urge you all to go out and read it. The book has some really good ideas in it, but it's an example of the phenomenon Hank Farrell was talking about last February:

I would estimate that about 80% of the non-academic non-fiction books that I do not find a complete waste of time (i.e. good books in politics, economics etc – I can’t speak to genres that I don’t know) are at least twice as long as they should be. They make an interesting point, and then they make it again, and again, padding it out with some quasi-relevant examples, and tacking on a conclusion about What It All Means which the author clearly doesn’t believe herself. The length of the average book reflects the economics of the print trade and educated guesses as to what book-buyers will actually pay for, much more than it does the actual intellectual content of the book itself.

I don't blame Barber. Books make an impact on society and make money for their authors in ways that magazine articles do not. If I had had Barber's ideas and an opportunity to publish them in a book, I'd have done it too. That's just how the market is organized.

But Consumed is really a long magazine-article's worth of ideas, and padding it out to book length has forced Barber to reach for a more sweeping thesis than he can really support. The stuff about marketing to children (which I have left out of my summary) is a related article, but doesn't make a seamless whole with the contrast between adult citizens and childish consumers.

And the quest for ever-more examples has led Barber into areas he clearly does not understand: sports, for example. Other than simple mistakes that no true fan would make (he identifies Terrell Owens as a running back rather than a receiver), Barber sees trends where none exist. He uses Shaquille O'Neal as an example of the glorification of immaturity. And yes, Shaq's public image is the quintessential manchild: big and fun-loving and not terribly serious about anything. But to make a trend out of Shaq, you have to forget the sports idol of my grandfather's era: George Ruth, who spent his whole adult life answering to the name "Babe" and calling everybody else "Kid". Sports heroes have always been childish; the whole professional-sports fantasy is that you never have to stop playing games and get a job. Half a century ago, Hall-of-Fame catcher Roy Campanella said:

To be good you've gotta have a lot of little boy in you. When you see Willie Mays and Ted Williams jumping and hopping around the bases after hitting a home run, and the kissing and hugging that goes on at home plate, you realize they have to be little boys.

Similarly, Barber does not understand George Lakoff's framing theory. He portrays Lakoff's strong-father vs. nurturant-parent dichotomy as infantilizing, because the citizens are children in both models. Not only is this criticism unfair in the present, but to see a trend in it you have to ignore centuries-old imagery like "Founding Fathers" and "Father of HIs Country".

But surely the low point of the book is when Barber uses a Rutgers student hangout called Stuff Yer Face as an example of the infantilization of dining. I've been there. The stromboli is excellent.



Short Notes

OK, I'm willing to accept that a comedian like Jon Stewart can cover some stories better than the news networks. But when Cracked is cleaning up the year's journalistic messes, something has gone horribly wrong.


Digby went on a roll just before the New Year, highlighting stories that sum up how crazy things have gotten. Did you know that Justin Bieber had endorsed the Ground Zero Mosque? No? Well, maybe that's because he actually didn't; the whole thing is a (fairly obvious) comic hoax made up by CelebJihad.com. But that didn't stop the Muslim-haters from announcing a Justin Bieber boycott. Digby's comment:

Ignorant right wingers threatening manufactured teen-idols based on fake news. I think that says it all.

Speaking of the Ground Zero Mosque, Salon explores the trajectory of the coverage:  It drew zero negative attention when the NYT first announced the Park51 project in December 2009. In May the right-wing bloggers discovered it, and eventually national figures felt obligated to weigh in on this local project. After November, when it wasn't useful as a wedge issue any more, everyone lost interest in the story, even though the project putters on unabated. Salon's comment:

Looking back now, it's pretty good evidence of a manufactured story when coverage spikes and then vanishes, even as nothing has fundamentally changed.

Digby goes on to call attention to a Will Bunch column from May about police tasering a fan who ran onto the field at a Phillies game. Bunch writes:

People forget that the whole justification for police to get Tasers in the first place was to subdue potentially violent suspects in cases in the past in which they might have been tempted to use lethal force. But the notion that the cops would have pulled a gun and shot 17-year-old field jumper Steve Consalvi is absurd, which means the rationale for tasing him is…what? … Did anyone call for stun-gunning "Morganna the kissing bandit" in the 1970s because we lived in "a post-JFK assassination world"

Tasers don't just subdue a suspect, they are painful enough to constitute corporal punishment. And yet Bunch reports many of his readers supported tasing the teen (who wasn't going to get away anyway), and the crowd approved.

Digby amplifies what Bunch was saying: That we have become a meaner, harsher country; when people annoy us, we don't just want them stopped, we want them to suffer.


Like Matt Yglesias, I'm not sure I totally agree with this Michael O'Hare piece on education, but I like the way he shakes up a tired public discussion. Comparing the classroom to the workplace, O'Hare observes:

I don’t know any grownup workplace where pay and promotions are awarded on the basis of sit-down tests except a few government agencies, and none whatever where management does this by choice. Nor any successful one where people do well to the extent that they parrot what the boss already knows.

He'd like to see schools have more large-scale group projects and less rote memorization of information of dubious utility.

In architecture school, my classmates could barely keep awake in the structural engineering course, but as soon as they needed to know how deep the floor had to be to hold up the ceiling over an auditorium, because that forced the second floor level to a point that might mean the grand staircase would have to be folded, etc. etc., they were quite interested in beam formulas; indeed, I had to ration helping them so I could get some drawing done. More and more, I’m absolutely sure that the correct sequence is challenge first, tools second, no matter how much the untidiness of the resulting learning process offends authoritarians and the insecure.

I will argue this far in favor of memorization: You need to lay down an initial matrix of facts to create a context for remembering future facts. Historical dates, for example, exhibit a network effect: The first ones you learn are as useless as owning the world's only telephone, but the more of them you know, the more meaningful each one becomes. So if you know that the Constitution was written in 1787 and the Civil War started in 1861, then hearing that some other thing (the Fugitive Slave Act, say) happened in 1850 starts to mean something. Otherwise 1850 is just an arbitrary number that leaves your brain as fast as it can.


Speaking of the Fugitive Slave Act, it completely destroys all the Civil War revisionism we're hearing out of Republicans from the South: that the Civil War was about states rights and not slavery. The Southern states cared nothing about violating the states rights of Northern states, as the FSA did. They cared about slavery. States rights was just a rhetorical tool for maintaining slavery.


From time to time I run across indications that evangelical Christians are trying to take the U.S. Army away from America and turn it into their own vision of the Army of God. The latest is the Spiritual Fitness Initiative, the fifth component of Comprehensive Soldier Fitness.

The folks trying to implement SFI at the Sargeants Major Academy sound well-intentioned. Broadly defined, spiritual fitness means having the inner resources to deal with loss, guilt, disappointment, and other life challenges that can be exaggerated in wartime. That's a fine thing to promote, if possible, but in practice SFI turns out like this: The mandatory Soldier Fitness Tracker survey has a spiritual section, which an honest soldier who does not believe in God -- like Justin Griffith -- is likely to fail. That leads to "remedial" training that Griffith describes as "absolutely swimming in religion".

And you know that some commanders will use "spiritual fitness" to shamelessly proselytize for Jesus. Soldiers have already been punished for not attending concerts of Christian rock, and the Spiritual Fitness Center at Fort Hood is basically a Christian mega-church, built with $28 million in earmark funding.


TPM gives out the 2010 Golden Duke awards for outstanding accomplishments in the fields of "venal corruption, outstanding self-inflicted losses of dignity, crimes against the republic, bribery, exposed hypocrisy and generally malevolent governance."


Salon's ten favorite stories of 2010.


Even Jeffrey Goldberg has started to worry about where Israel is headed.

The Weekly Sift appears every Monday afternoon. If you would like to receive it by email, write to WeeklySift at gmail.com. Or keep track of the Sift by following the Sift's Facebook page.

Friday, December 24, 2010

The Humanism of the Sun

a talk given to the Concord Area Humanists at Wright Tavern in Concord, MA December 6, 2010

1. Hope and/or Rationality

I'm going to begin by reviewing a few facts about people who believe in the supernatural or paranormal.

  • People who believe in mental telepathy nonetheless make long-distance phone calls.
  • People who believe in levitation nonetheless buy airline tickets.
  • And while there are some well-publicized exceptions, the vast majority of people who believe in faith healing will nonetheless take antibiotics when they have bacterial infections.

Now, sometimes examples like this are used to claim that people are hypocrites, that most religious people, in particular, don't really believe what they claim to believe. When push comes to shove, they'll take the antibiotics. "Yes, the Lord will provide and protect, but I'm also going to buy insurance and put money in my 401-K."

That's not where I'm headed. Instead, I want to draw this lesson: When there's a proven, evidence-based way to get where you're going, the vast majority of people will take it. That's part of human nature, and it's why we've survived this long.

But there's another part of human nature: We don't give up easily. If the best rational analysis says that we're screwed, then we'll just keep going irrationally. Because we won't just lay down and die. That  also is who we are and why we've survived.

So if you are lost in the desert with a group of people and you point out that the lake they are walking towards is a mirage, whether or not they believe you depends on what you say next. If you go on to outline a reasonable plan for getting back to safety, and if you make it sound credible enough, then your compatriots might listen to you. But if your entire point is to dash their hopes, they won't.

Just last month I heard about a study done by two Berkeley psychologists. They exposed two groups of people to information about global warming. Both groups heard the same dire predictions of the heat waves, droughts, floods, famines, and so on that will happen if we keep doing what we're doing. But the first group then heard about all the steps we can take to head off those disasters. The second group got a no-hope message, that it is already too late.

As you would expect, the first group came out of their session more hopeful about global warming, the second more despairing. But there was another difference: The first group, the hopeful group, was more likely to accept the reality of global warming. The hopeful prognosis made the dire facts more believable.

Why? Because human beings have an instinctive resistance to despair, and an instinctive attraction to hope. Evolution built us that way, and it's not hard to see why. People who keep struggling -- even irrationally, even with a wrongheaded view of the situation -- sometimes stumble out of the trap they're in and go on to have descendants. People who give up, don't.

Now you would think that if any religion or philosophy could align itself with what we know about human nature, it would be Humanism. But in fact we often don't. Too often, we act as if exploding other people's illusions were an end in itself: "You may think you're going to heaven, but you're not. You may think that some Higher Power is looking out for you and will step in to save you from harm, but really you're on your own. You may think Someone guarantees that ultimately the forces of Evil will not prevail. But you're wrong."

In short, our message to the believers often amounts to this: "Everything that keeps you going, everything that makes your life palatable or adds zest to your existence -- it's all a mirage, a fairy tale. There's nothing to it."

If that's the end of the message, is it any wonder that we get so few converts?

2. The Sun vs. the North Wind

In one of Aesop's fables, the Sun and the North Wind argue about which is stronger. So they have a contest: Which of them will be able to get this threadbare old cloak off the shoulders of a traveler?

"This will be easy," the North Wind thinks, and with a quick gust he almost snatches the cloak away. But the traveler grabs it at the last instant and pulls it back around his shoulders.

"Well, I'll blow harder then," the Wind says. But now the traveler is wrapping the cloak tightly around himself, and the harder the Wind blows, the tighter he hangs on.

Eventually the North Wind is exhausted and it's the Sun's turn. The Sun shines down on the traveler, and before long he is so warm that he takes the cloak off on his own.

Now, why does the Sun win? Because the North Wind is looking at things on the wrong level. To the Wind, it's all just physics. If he can get more force on that cloak than the traveler is using to hold it, he can blow it away. But the Sun understands that he's dealing with a person who has motives. If he can understand why that cloak is important to that traveler and make it unimportant, then the traveler will set it aside on his own.

Too often, we take a North Wind approach to promoting Humanism. If I just blow harder, if I make stronger arguments against religion, if I raise the level of my rhetoric and announce to my believing friends that God is Not Great, that we're at The End of Faith (and that's good), that they  are suffering from a God Delusion and consequently need my help Breaking the Spell -- in short, if I heap more and more ridicule on my friends' illusions and superstitions, then I'll finally rip that cloak away from them.

And what happens? They grab it tighter. If you defeat one of their justifications for religion today, tomorrow they'll have another one. If in the morning you convince them to give up one dysfunctional superstition, by evening they'll have adopted another one that is even worse.

Why? Because we're arguing at the wrong level. This is not the kind of debate you can win by blowing harder. Religion is about people and their needs and what motivates them. They hang onto their beliefs because they are cold; and the harder we blow, the colder they get.

3. Solar Secularity

Successful arguments for secularity don't work that way. Telephone companies do not waste their advertising budget explaining that mental telepathy doesn't work. No doctor has ever told me not to pray for better health. "You want to pray? Knock yourself out. But take your antibiotics, because they work. If you take your antibiotics, you will get better."

Reasonable solutions replace superstition not because people suddenly realize that superstition is unreliable. People have always known that superstition is unreliable.

In spite of all the stories of miracle cures, even the most ignorant parents know that sometimes you pray over your sick daughter and she dies anyway. Doctors don't need to belabor that point. The parents know. But they need to be told that there is a better way. Someone needs to convince them that if their daughter takes this pill, she will live. Someone needs to tell them that children who are vaccinated don't get sick to begin with.

Convince them of that, and superstition doesn't have a chance.

Similarly, you don't need to convince your believing friends that the afterlife is uncertain and that the prospect of joy in Heaven is poor compensation for the reality of suffering and injustice here on Earth. They know that. You don't need to tell them that some of the most convincing priests and evangelists are charlatans, or that the most publicly righteous people sometimes turn out to be monsters behind closed doors. They know that.

You don't need to tell People of the Book that the Book is confusing, and that they often have to tie themselves into knots to avoid seeing its contradictions. You don't need to tell oppressed people that God's deliverance sometimes takes centuries to arrive and sometimes doesn't come at all. You don't need to tell them that blowing themselves up is an improbable road to success, that it will bring sadness to their families and most likely help no one. [A questioner challenged this point at the end of the talk, so I'll elaborate: Even groups that defend suicide bombing and claim it transports the bomber straight to Heaven only take up the practice as a last resort. People who have any other viable military or political strategy do not blow themselves up. That tells me everything I need to know about their true assessment of its effectiveness.]

They know all that. As much as they may argue with you when you point these things out, they know. That's why winning those arguments changes nothing, because they already know.

What they don't know is that there's a better way. Convince people of that, and you will change them.

In short, it's pointless to tell the traveler that his cloak isn't keeping him warm. He knows better than you do how cold he is. But that's not going to convince him to take that cloak off. What works better is to say, "Are you cold? I have just the thing. It's a better way to get warm."

4. Humanism and Progress

Now that I've told you something about believers, let me tell you something about Humanism and its history. Times and places where religion was becoming more humanistic have in general been prosperous and showed rapid progress, like Holland in the 1600s or England a little bit later.

We like to tell that story as cause-and-effect: Humanism leads to progress and prosperity. And that's true, but the reverse is also true: Progress and prosperity lead to Humanism. Wherever people have rational hope that they can solve their problems and improve their lives, it's not hard to convince them to liberalize their religion and expand the secular sphere to take in more of life's issues and decisions.

Consider the United States in the decades following the ratification of the Constitution. In New England trade was booming, industry was developing, population was rising, jobs were plentiful, wages were higher than anywhere in Europe, and if you could save up enough capital to get you through the first year, you could go west and claim land of your own. Particularly among the educated classes, life was hopeful and opportunities abounded.

And in this setting, Calvinism evolved into Unitarianism. Even the religious conservatives of the era are only relatively conservative; their beliefs were liberalizing more slowly. Those Puritan-founded churches that didn't turn Unitarian remained Congregationalist, and are now part of the United Church of Christ, Barack Obama's denomination.

Contrast that with what was happening among the slaves in the South. They lived hard lives with little reason for optimism. Small-scale rebellions were harshly put down, and because slaves were largely illiterate and tied to one plantation, their prospects for organizing a large-scale rebellion were dim. If you knew of no whites who would help you and had no place to go in the North, you had little chance of escape.

What came out of that environment was the deep religiosity you can hear in the Negro spirituals.

Go down, Moses,

Way down to Egyptland.

Go tell that Pharaoh

To let my people go.

Deprived of any rational hope, they irrationally identified with the Old Testament Israelites, and they hoped irrationally that someday the God of Moses would deliver them too -- if not in this lifetime, then by rewarding them in Heaven. With that hope, they endured. They held out -- day to day, year to year -- until processes they could not have foreseen set their descendants free.

That's how people are. That's how evolution made us. Given reasonable opportunities, we will take them. But if we are cut off from any reasonable hope of a life worth living, we will find some other way to keep going. We are a persistent species; that's how we survived.

5. John Dietrich's Idealistic Humanism

Real Humanism -- not just liberal Christianity or reformed Judaism, but full-fledged God-is-optional Humanism -- took off in America in the 1920s, the Roaring 20s.

It is hard to put yourself back into that mindset today, because it was a time not just of booms, but of real live reproducible miracles. There were horseless carriages and machines that flew men above the clouds. Glowing devices would sit in your living room and pull voices out of the ether.

One of those voices was John Dietrich.

Dietrich's sermons were so popular that his church, the First Unitarian Society of Minneapolis, had to rent out a theater on Sunday mornings to fit everybody in. He called his message Humanism, and in many ways it resembled what is taught as Humanism today. But the tone of it was very different.

Dietrich preached a Humanism of the Sun, not a Humanism of the North Wind.

For one thing, Dietrich could not be bothered to argue whether or not God exists. Dietrich's Humanism wasn't about theology, it was about responsibility. So if you wanted to form a concept in your mind and call it God, fine. If you wanted to sing about your God, fine. But Dietrich insisted that you recognize this: All those things people have been praying to God for down through the centuries -- if humanity could just get its act together, we could do them rather than pray about them.

"To become a humanist," he preached, "does not merely mean throwing off the yoke of the old religion; it means assuming personally the responsibility that heretofore was supposed to rest with God."

Imagine yourself in the 1920s and let me recreate Dietrich's message.

Have people been praying for centuries for God to feed the hungry? It's an age of steel plows and tractors and threshing machines. Every year we get more grain for less work. There's plenty of food, and there's going to be even more in the future. Just figure out how to distribute the Earth's bounty, and humans, not God, will feed the hungry.

Have people been praying for God to heal the sick? It's an age of vaccines and nutrition and sanitation. Every year, science learns more about the human body and the diseases that afflict it. Turn that knowledge loose, apply it everywhere, devote ourselves to learning more, and humans, not God, will heal the sick.

Have people been praying to God for justice and peace? Injustice and war don't come from angels or demons; they come from people, and it's up to people to end them. Every year we learn more about social, political, and economic systems. What if we harnessed that knowledge to the insight that we are one human family sharing one beautiful, bountiful planet and all hoping to thrive in the same ways? What if all the resources wasted on weapons could be applied to things that actually make life better? What if people could express their heroism by devoting their lives to justice rather than sacrificing them to war?

He preached: "Burn that one truth -- that it can be done -- into the mind of the race, and the work will begin."

And that work -- at least as Dietrich told the story -- was the most meaningful, most interesting, most satisfying thing you could be doing with your life.

His Humanism had come not to snatch something away from you, but to give you something so valuable that you would drop the useless baggage you'd been dragging around. Dietrich recognized that there is no need to denounce people's unbelievable hopes -- they, better than anyone else, know just how hard it is to keep believing in those hopes. Just give them believable hopes, and the fantastic ones will fall away on their own. Why would you base your hopes on an unseen world, on an undiscovered country from which no traveler returns, if you could base them instead on things that you see happening all around you?

6. The Disillusioning 20th Century

It would be nice if I could just tell Humanists to start preaching Dietrich's sermons again, but I can't. The rest of the 20th century was hard on Dietrich-style optimism. There was the Great Depression and then the most destructive war in history. That war ended with the atom bomb, which put down once and for all the idea that progress and science are entirely beneficent  forces. After the war we discovered just how bad the death camps were, and that made people wonder whether folks like John Dietrich had underestimated the depths of evil in the human soul.

Worst of all, a lot of Dietrich's ideas about science and reason and social progress -- as well as his point about the uselessness of traditional religion -- were echoed in the rhetoric of the Soviet Union. In many ways that connection is unfair, because Dietrich's highest principle -- that each person is an end in himself, and that no one should be treated just as a means to someone else's ends -- was exactly what Communism needed and didn't have.

But in another way the connection is fair. Communism made the world skeptical of utopian plans. We all know now that people who diagram the perfect society on a blank sheet of paper can do horrific things, things that a person bound by tradition would never imagine. Even Ivan the Terrible was not so terrible compared to Stalin.

And that's why today the people with the most radical plans to transform society disguise themselves as restorationists. The Tea Party claims to be restoring the vision of the Founding Fathers. Bin Laden wants to restore the Caliphate. Christian Dominionists want to prepare the way for the return of Jesus.

In short,  we 21st-century people have lost our faith in the limitless potential of blank sheets of paper.

In addition, I think Dietrich underestimated the ability of the Powers That Be to co-opt new insights into people and social structures. It is just as easy -- and in the short run more profitable -- to make better propaganda than better education. Social insights that might produce better human beings and a more just society might also produce better sheep and a more controllable society.

You don't have to look far to see that happening. Just look at the election we just held. Look at the quantity of corporate money spent and the lies and distractions it promoted.

So if we can't go back to the 20s, where do we go?

Well, the first thing I want to point out is that the easiest thing for the Powers That Be to co-opt is our cynicism and skepticism. If North Wind Humanists come together in small groups and congratulate each other about how bright and tough-minded we are, if we see ourselves as the elite few who can face the cold, hard Truth -- the Powers That Be are fine with that. That's no threat to them.

But the Humanism of the Sun, Dietrich-style Humanism, the kind of Humanism that raises worldly hopes rather than dashing other-worldly hopes -- that is a threat. That is something that could catch on and change the world.

The Humanism of the Sun has got to be optimistic. It's got to be idealistic. It's got to be inspiring. Because humanity is a hopeful species, and you are never going to channel human energy without hope.

7. Hope and History

Now, where can we find that hope and idealism and inspiration? Let's start with the easy part: Dietrich's basic insight still holds. It is well within the power of humanity to answer the vast majority of prayers.

In spite of everything we've done to it in the last century, this is still a rich planet. No external force or natural limit prevents humanity from living in peace, feeding the hungry, healing the sick, giving every child a good education, recognizing everyone's human dignity, and making sure that everyone has access to the information they need to actively participate in their own governance.

What's more, that vision is still inspiring. It still stirs the blood, if you can bring yourself to believe in it.

But that's the problem, isn't it? Humanists are realists. We believe in facts. And doesn't the evidence tell us that the world going to hell in a handbasket?

In a lot of ways, it certainly is. Endless wars, global warming, the exhaustion of natural resources, the long-term inability of our economy to generate good jobs, antibiotic-resistant germs, the increasing separation between rich and poor, and (what is most disturbing to me personally, because as a political blogger I run into it every day) the corruption of our national discourse. We can't even talk about most of our real problems any more. Even as we come to the end of the hottest year on record, the percentage of the American population that believes global warming is a hoax is going up. Even as staph and tuberculosis bacteria evolve to defeat our best drugs, we face increasing demands to teach children alternatives to the theory of evolution.

Yes, the world is going to hell in a handbasket. How can Humanists in good conscience go to people with an optimistic message?

My answer is that if you study history, if you really put yourself into the mindset of past eras, you realize that world has almost always been going to hell in a handbasket. Times and places where progress is obvious to the casual observer are very exceptional. And yet, somehow, when you take the long view, good things happen. Slavery ends. Jim Crow ends. Women get the vote and eventually equality under the law. Apartheid ends. Fascism falls. Communism falls. The prospect of a civilization-ending nuclear war recedes.

And it never, ever looks like it's going to happen until just before it does. The forces of goodness always seem ephemeral compared to the entrenched institutions that support the current corruption. Look at today's European welfare state through the eyes of Charles Dickens or Victor Hugo. Think of all the vested interests of their day who profited from the desperation of the poor. How could they possibly have been defeated? And yet they were.

Or go back a little further. Dietrich talks about humanity taking responsibility back from God. Before the Enlightenment, the official rhetoric said that God was responsible for choosing a nation's rulers. Kings ruled by divine right, by the will of Heaven. Against that orthodoxy, men like Locke and Rousseau argued that government was a human responsibility, that government was created by a social contract, not mandated by the Almighty. Obvious as that is now, you can't imagine how airy-fairy it must have sounded when it was new. "Lovely idea, but the King is the King. We have always had kings. Be grateful that our King is so benevolent as to let you prattle like this."

It has always been that way. And yet, good things happen.

How?

Partly it's just the illusion of size. Whatever is big enough to be obvious is probably already in decline. The rising mammals always seem insignificant compared to the declining dinosaurs.

But the deeper reason is that the ultimate source of goodness in the world is the conscience and compassion and empathy and loyalty and honor of the individual human being. And those qualities are always hidden until someone evokes them.

They say in Harlan County

There are no neutrals there.

You'll either be a union man

Or a thug for J. H. Blair.

Which side are you on, boys?

Which side are you on?

It paid a lot better to be a thug for J. H. Blair. It always has. But somehow enough miners stood together to make a union. How did they do that? Who could have seen it coming?

How many times in the last several decades have we seen oppressive governments fall when unarmed people by the tens of thousands flood out onto the streets and refuse to be intimidated by soldiers -- until the soldiers just give up?

It always looks impossible until just before it happens. Because the force that wins the victory is hidden inside the individual human being. And it stays hidden until somebody evokes it, until somebody who has faith in the goodness hidden inside everyone else takes the risk of saying in public what everyone is thinking in private. Someone puts the question to society, and then you either have to watch someone else's goodness be stamped out, or you have to risk bringing out your own.

And that's how good things happen.

8. Humanistic Faith

Now, if you've been keeping your head and you haven't let yourself be carried away by idealistic rhetoric, you may have noticed that I just committed a horrible heresy: I just told a group of Humanists that their ultimate success depends on having faith in hidden forces.

I don't see any way around that. Any effective Humanist message has to be optimistic. And any honest optimism about humanity has to depend on believing that human beings have it in them to be better than the society they currently live in, and better, in fact, than they often appear to be in everyday life. Good things don't happen because the events in the headlines proceed inexorably towards goodness. Good things happen because the most unlikely people find it in themselves to be heroes at the precise moments when heroes are needed.

I know of no way to measure or quantify that hidden power of human goodness, but it's what everything depends on. For me, and I suspect for you, it works best to think of that hidden power as a natural phenomenon, just part of what human beings are.

But I can foretell the future enough to say this: If you start talking about this hidden human goodness, some people are going to want to call it God. For example, I think that's what Forrest Church was talking about when he said "God is our name for what is greater than all and yet present in each."

So what do we do with that? What do we do when something seems a little mysterious, maybe, but not at all supernatural to us, and somebody else wants to call it God?

9. Humanism's Uncompromisable Core

And that brings up the final question I want to consider: What is the essence of Humanism? What is the line that we can't let be crossed, that central thing that if we don't stand for this, we stand for nothing?

A lot of people will tell you that the essence is atheism. There is no God. If someone starts talking about God, we need to show them the door, because there's no place for that here.

I think that's a mistake. It diverts us away from changing the world and turns us back towards metaphysical arguments that accomplish nothing and help no one. Also, I think we wind up separating ourselves from people who ought to be our allies.

I put the essence of Humanism where John Dietrich did: The responsibility for the survival and the flourishing of the human race in this world lies with human beings. It's up to us to feed the hungry, to heal the sick, to make peace, and to establish justice. And it's up to us to gather the facts and make the plans to carry out that mission. That is our responsibility and it is our highest responsibility.

To me, any one who recognizes that responsibility is a Humanist. And if they symbolize human goodness with the word God, if some of them want to talk about a God who is a cheerleader and an inspirer, if they want to imagine a God who stands on the sidelines and roots for us to fulfill our responsibilities ... then I say we let them. If they want to sing songs about such a God and use his or her name in invocations and benedictions, let them. The essence of Humanism has not been compromised.

But anyone who serves God to the detriment of serving humanity, anyone who makes God a commander rather than a cheerleader, anyone who trades off well-being in this world for some other kind of blessing in some other world, anyone who prays for divine solutions instead of working for human solutions -- that person is not a Humanist. To me, those are the lines we can't cross without losing ourselves.

Finally, if the essence of Humanism is a set of responsibilities rather than a theological position, that tells us how we can work with others and who we can recognize as allies. Because human vs. divine responsibility can be judged issue by issue. John Locke was not an atheist. But he believed that the choice of rulers was a human responsibility rather than a divine one. On that issue, I could work with him without compromising my integrity.

10. Conclusion

Before we break for discussion, let me sum up where we've been: Humanism should not just be nay-saying and skepticism. Exploding people's other-worldly hopes is not only pointless, it is unnecessary: Put forward believable worldly hopes and unbelievable other-worldly hopes will fade away on their own.

For that reason, a Humanism that matters, a Humanism that can catch on and make a difference the world, has to be idealistic rather than cynical. It has to be visionary rather than curmudgeonly, optimistic rather than pessimistic.

And unless you are so lucky as to find yourself living in one of those rare times and places where progress is obvious, you're going to have to postulate beyond the visible facts. Because what is declining is always more visible than what is rising, and it's always easier to project selfish and self-interested motives into the future than to imagine the kind of creative heroism that again and again seems to come out of nowhere and push humanity forward. Cynicism works against us. We need not to puncture people's faith in God, but to raise their faith that humanity still has the ability to overcome its vested interests, that (like our ancestors) we can make real progress towards justice and compassion and dignity for all.

And finally, theology is a distraction, and arguing against God pulls you into that trap just as surely as arguing for God. Humanism is about humanity taking responsibility for its own fate and its own flourishing. Anyone who accepts their share of humanity's responsibility for itself should be considered a Humanist in good standing, and anyone who accepts humanity's responsibility for some particular issue is a worthy ally on that issue.

"This," preached John Dietrich, "is the faith that the world needs today. It does not need an ecclesiastical religion, it does not need more priests and prayers and holy books, it does not need literary essays on academic subjects; but it does need the never-ending voice of the prophet going up and down the land, crying, not as of old, "Prepare ye the way of the Lord," but "Prepare ye the way of mankind, and make its way straight."