Saturday, May 21, 2022

The "Fore-Shock" Test

 
In March, 2017, I attended a three-day Climate Reality training session in Denver.  I remember many moments from that weekend - none more than the moment when Al Gore told us his understanding of change.  I didn't write down his precise words, but it went something like this: 

In life, change happens very slowly.  For a long, long time, it doesn't seem to be happening at all.  And then, suddenly, it happens all at once.

It's been five years since I heard Mr. Gore say this, but I've never forgotten his insight.  This year, I think, that promise is being fulfilled, right before our eyes.  Change, long so slow in coming, is beginning to happen.  And perhaps it's even accelerating.  Whether we like it or not - whether we're ready for it or not - we appear to be entering an age of revolution.

Since 2017, most of us have been living through hard times.  But they've also been slow times.  Times of hunkering down at home.  Times of caution.  Times when nothing - the availability of KN-95s, the re-opening of schools, the approval of vaccines, the end of the Trump administration - seemed to happen fast enough.

Now, my historian's instinct tells me we're about to start living through times that will move at a very different pace.  If I'm right, we'll need to keep in mind Dickens' words about the French Revolution.  Such times can be - at once - the best and worst of times. 

The worst part will, almost certainly, involve the baked-in consequences of our rapidly heating and dangerously over-populated planet.  There will be extreme weather events.  In portions of the world, centuries-old agricultural patterns will be disrupted - forcing millions of people to migrate in search of a way to make a living.  There will be wars over water, over arable land, over borders. 

In many cases, these changes will not - at least at first - appear to threaten our own way of life here in the Northwest.  But our respite will be brief, and we'd be wise to prepare ourselves for the worst.

If you're not in the habit of following the news on climate change, you'd be wise to start - because that news no longer consists of dire predictions for the future.  Events are transpiring daily - some big, some small, some which seem merely curious.  And if you keep an eye on these things, over a few months, patterns will begin to form.  A bigger picture will emerge.

You'll begin seeing the certain events as fore-shocks of a coming age of change.  The sense you make of all this will be for you to decide - but following climate news will be a kind of personal Rohrschach test.

Personally, for some years now, I've relied on The Guardian as my primary news source in many areas - climate among them.  I like that The Guardian is free, with virtually no firewalls.  The Guardian does, occasionally, ask for voluntary contributions - and I contribute.  But I like having the choice.

I also like that, being a British publication, it's far more globally-oriented than most US sources.  I especially like that I can use it to watch PMQs.  (If that's not your thing, no worries.  But I love it.) 

Moreover, while I'm a lot more centrist than most of The Guardian's opinion writers, I greatly admire George Monbiot, the paper's main observer on climate matters.  He's incredibly well-informed, generally manages to offer a fresh perspective, and somehow contrives to present terrifying news in a calm, rational tone. 

The Guardian also features a Climate Crisis section - with several new stories every day.  Today, for example, there's a story about rising suicide rates related to climate "doomerism" - focusing on the April 22 death by self-immolation of Wynn Bruce, an American Buddhist and climate activist who set himself ablaze on the steps of the Supreme Court.  Wynn's self-sacrifice reminded me of the protests of Vietnamese Buddhists at the height of the war in Southeast Asia.  Those protests were dramatic, but seemed to happen in another world.  Wynn was a 50-year-old photographer from Boulder, Colorado.  

Today's other stories are less sensational, but they illustrate the wide reach of the climate crisis.  One is about a large study of sleep habits around the globe.  In parts of the world where air conditioning and electric fans are not widely available, there seems to be correlation between hotter nights and serious sleep loss. 

Another story involves a 50% decline in the harvest of the tiny seeds used to make Dijon mustard - due to heating in the areas of France and Canada which provide the greatest part of the world's supply.  

Now, I can easily imagine how climate deniers would dismiss each of these stories.  A man who sets himself on fire might be mentally ill.  The fact that millions of people in India and equatorial parts of the Third World are missing sleep won't necessarily cause comfortable First-Worlder to lose sleep.  And one can, I suppose, live without Dijon mustard.

But two or three stories a day - some catastrophic, some on a more personal level, some even curious - and you start to realize that the worst of times might well be upon us.

At the same time, there's beginning to be reason for hope from - of all places - the world of politics. 

Just today, news comes from Australia's national elections.  After nine years in power, the Liberal Party - which is actually a conservative party with a disgraceful record on climate - is out.  The Liberals' loss doesn't seem to have come about because their traditional rivals - the left-leaning Labor Party - did especially well.  The real change comes from new seats won by the Greens, and even more, from successful challenges to Liberal incumbents from centrist, climate-oriented candidates running as independent "teal" (blue-green) challengers. 

Indeed, in much of the truly democratic world, new parties and candidates seem to be emerging to challenge existing power structures.  And often, these new people are relatively centrist on many issues, but dead serious about the climate. 

In this regard, Emmanuel Macron - just re-elected to a second five-year term as President of France - must be considered an early leader.  But this year, in the United States - and particularly in the Northwest - there are encouraging signs of centrist challenges to the two-party duopoly.  

In Washington state, Chris Vance, a former chair of the state's Republican Party, quit the GOP in 2017 and became a member of the Lincoln Project.  This year, Vance is taking steps to form a new, centrist party in Washington.

In Utah, the state Democratic Party has decided not to run a candidate against incumbent Republican US Senator Mike Lee - throwing its support behind independent Evan McMullin, a sane conservative who challenged Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton in a handful of states in 2016.

And in Oregon, long-time state senator Betsy Johnson - a former Democrat - is mounting a well-funded independent campaign against the newly-nominated candidates of the two major parties, Tina Kotek (D) and Christine Drazan (R).

To the best of my knowledge, none of these American challengers is outspokenly pro-environment.  All three seem primarily concerned with staking out a position nearer the center than either of the two major parties. 

I wish them luck.  But my sense is that mere centrism will have pretty limited appeal in a time of rapid change.  The Climate Crisis is pushing its way onto the stage.  It will not be denied.  And politicians who fail to address it will - if not this year, in a very few years - find themselves talking to increasingly fewer people.

Late last winter, when I decided to run for the Oregon House of Representatives, I was motivated by two issues - the Climate Crisis, and the crisis in American (and Western) democracy.  To me, these two issues seem inescapably connected through the impact of big money and corporate corruption on our politics. 

I'll go into my thinking in later posts - and on the campaign trail.  But in terms of simple, pragmatic political strategy, it seems to me that it will be impossible to build a new, centrist movement or party on the basis of something as uninspiring as mere centrism. 

Indeed, that approach seems to be taking a tattered page out of the Democrats' and Republicans' play-books:  You don't need a vision of a better future.  You don't need to address great challenges.  All you have to do is say, "Vote for us.  We're not as bad as the other guys."

That ain't gonna work.  Not in these times.

For me, the Australian "teals" got it right.  We do need the sort of unity more centrist, problem-solving candidates can bring to the table.  And the proper starting-place is for new candidates is to address the greatest existential threats we're facing - the threat of a heating planet, and the threat of losing our ability to govern ourselves democratically, at a time when we truly need effective leadership.

At any rate, that's what I'm betting on.

Thursday, May 12, 2022

Eight-score and Eight Years Ago


Three months ago, as I began pulling together my campaign for the Oregon House, I thought mainly in terms of three related isssues:  


     - My entire lack of confidence in both of our major political parties, dating back some 42 years, but growing more pronounced over time;

     - My alarm at the threat to constitutional government posed by the Republican Party's abandonment of all commitment to ethical and legal constraints - surely, even politics has some constraints - and by the Democratic Party's feeble, finger-wagging response to Republican lawlessness; and
 
     - My sense that - at a time when the gathering Climate Crisis threatens the habitability of the only planet in the galaxy known to be habitable - the United States, which should be leading the world, appears barely able even to govern itself.

I have argued for decades - in my old newspaper column, in the classroom, in conversation, and occasionally in this blog - that these three issues could be addressed if a small, but determined, group of citizens took steps to create a new and effective political party. 

Such a party, I have insisted, would have to appeal to citizens disenchanted with both major parties, and ready to take action.  Most of these people would, of necessity, find themselves in what is called the political center.  But the party need not be - and in fact, should not be - defined as centrist.  

Attempts to build "centrist" parties inevitably fail.  In democratic politics, the center is nowhere.  It is a negative space. It is defined, not by a vision for the future, but by the relative positions of the two existing parties.  And both of the two major parties are obsessed with the near-term - specifically, with winning the next election.  They have no greater idea of the future than that.

Moreover, in the United States, the political center is not a fixed position.  For decades, the midpoint between the two major parties has been shifting steadily rightward, as the Republican Party moved from the intellectually-respectable conservatism of thinkers like Russell Kirk to the ignorant, superstitious, angry populism of Pat Buchanan, then Newt Gingrich, then the Tea Party, and finally, Donald Trump. 

Which populism long since ceased to be conservatism at all, as it morphed into a kind of fascism. 

During these same decades, the Democratic Party - for all its rhetorical commitment to the latest fads in acceptable newspeak - has continued to be what it has been since LBJ:  A collection of disparate tribes, pretending to be a movement.  A top-down establishment machine committed entirely to maintaining the illusion of unity in order to assure its own electoral survival.  A feckless, leaderless, rudderless asssembly of incompetents.  The Democratic Party of the past fifty years has been of no use to anyone but its own, aging incumbents - and the co-opted acolytes waiting expectantly to succeed them.

In such an environment, a new party committed merely to occupying the center would be compelled to shift steadily rightward, simply to maintain its position between a party gone mad and a party with no coherent principles.  

The third party America needs - and which the world desperately needs for America to produce - would have to be far better-defined, more principled, and more combative than a merely "centrist" party. In present-day America, where politics has become increasingly like civil war, a new party would have to be prepared to fight, and fight ruthlessly. 

Nor could it commit to a goal of "bringing people together" in some sort of join-hands-and-sing-Kum-by-ya fantasy.  America is too divided for that.  Unity will come - if it comes at all - when new leaders emerge who are capable of establishing a clear sense of movement toward some credible vision of the future. 

Think Lincoln at Gettysburg, reminding us that America must be an example to a waiting world of what free people can do - of, by and for themselves.  Think of FDR and Churchill proclaiming the Four Freedoms.  Remember Kennedy aiming for the Moon.  Remember Dr. King's dream. 

Vision.

Put it another way:  If America is ever re-united, our unity will not be the goal, but rather a by-product of pursuing some great, ennobling goal.

Today's Democratic Party is utterly incapable of providing such vision,  And the vision the Republican Party offers is dystopian.  

It is important to understand the reality of our situation.  The problem is not the Republican Party, alone.  The problem is a two-party system in which the Republican Party must be taken seriously.  The problem is a system in which the only alternative to the Democrats is run by insiders who insist on nominating the only candidate who could possibly lose to Donald Trump in 2016

Insiders who inist that the Democrats nominate a bland, doddering old buffer to have any chance of defeating Donald Trump in 2020. 

Insiders who look likely to lose both Houses of Congress in November - and the White House to Donald Trump, or someone even worse, in 2024.

The problem is not the Republicans.  The problem is the absence of an effective alternative to the Republicans.

The problem is both major parties - and the duopoly they have created.  The problem is our tolerance for unlimited campaign contributions from the rich and powerful.  The problem is gerrymandering.  The problem is elections in which superannuated incumbents are assured of perpetual re-election.  The problem is the system by which major-party candidates are chosen - and other candidates "discouraged" from running at all.

In short, the problem is the two-party system. 


A successful new party would have - like Hercules - to strangle two serpents in its infancy.  One red.  One blue.  There is no "better" alternative between these serpents.  Both are toxic, though their venoms differ.  Both must be strangled. 

And to do this, the new party would have so stand for, and fight for, very clear principles - even if those principles happened to be found largely in the rational center of present-day options.  The new party might be, in Michael Lind's phrase, radically centrist. 

What is important is that the new party be active,  aggressive, and audacious.  

The task of building such a party will be, indeed, Herculean.  But is there any chance such a party could be created?  

The short answer is - Absolutely, yes.  I have long argued that America's modern failure to produce a successful third party is the fruit of our schools' and universities' lamentable failure to teach our own national history.

All my adult life, I've heard repeatedly - from people holding degrees from reputable institutions - that America has never had a successful third party.  Which is nonsense.  Today's Republican Party began - in 1854 - when anti-slavery members of the two major parties (Democrats and Whigs) quit their respective parties, embraced their former rivals, and founded various state "fusion" parties. 

These new, state parties quickly evolved into the national Republican Party.

How quickly, you ask?  The new party, which began organizing in the summer of 1854, captured the White House in the Election of 1860 - elevating Abraham Lincoln to the Presidency.  By the following spring, it also commanded both Houses of Congress.  

In less than seven years, this new, third party went from zero to complete control of the Federal government, as well as the governments of most of the northern states.

Anyone who has been miseducated to believe that America has never produced a successful third-party should do a bit of research into this stirring tale. Wikipedia should suffice, but if you're serious about history, I suggest finding an old copy of David M. Potter's Pulitzer Prize-winning volume, The Impending Crisis, 1848-1861.  It's a great book - my favorite single volume of American History. 

If you're pressed for time, Chapter Ten will more than reward your investment of a few hours.   

My point is this:  A third party is absolutely possible.  It's also absolutely necessary.

The question is:  Are Americans of our time prepared to do what our forefathers did, eight-score and eight years ago?

Thursday, March 10, 2022

Introducing the Two-Vote Plan

 
In my last post, I promised to introduce a new plan for electing members of the Oregon House of Representatives - a plan which would add new dimensions of diversity to our legislature.  The Two-Vote Plan - known in comparative government circles as parallel voting - isn't complicated in practice, but its workings will be unfamiliar to those who don't follow politics abroad.  So please - if you're interested - be sure to read this when you have time to focus.  [You might look up "parallel voting" first - or after reading this - for further clarification.]

I'll outline the plan in this post. Then - for those with questions - I'll be happy to post a further elaboration.  

The basic idea of the Two-Vote Plan is that each voter would be entitled to two votes for Representative - one for an individual candidate running to represent a specific district, the other for a party slate running to represent a large region of the state.

Let's think of your two votes as Column A and Column B.  

In Columm A, you would choose among individual candidates running for a district seat - exactly the way you do now.  The one difference would be that only half of Oregon's 60 state Representatives would be elected from districts - so the 30 House districts would be identical to Oregon's 30 state Senate districts.  

Column B is where the innovation comes in.  Under the Two-Vote Plan, Oregon would be divided into three large regions - each containing one-third of the population.  The regions would be drawn so as to include - as much as possible - parts of the state with common economic, environmental, and cultural features.  For example, given our present population distribution, one region might include Portland and most of its suburbs.  A second region might contain eastern and and parts of central Oregon, and a third region the coast and its hinterlands.    

Each region would be entitled to ten Representatives, who would be elected by proportional representation.  Rather than running as individuals, candidates would run as slates - either chosen by a party, or ianassembled by agreements among individual candidates.   A slate could have up to ten candidates, but - as no slate will likely get 100% of the vote - it could have somewhat fewer than ten members.   

When voting in Column B, you would use a form of ranked-choice voting - indicating up to three choices.  Once all votes had been counted, any slate receiving fewer than 5% of the total vote in that region would be eliminated.  Those whose first preference was eliminated would have their second and, if necessary, third-choice votes assigned to their preferred surviving slate.  


That done, the ten regional seats would be allocated among the slates according to the percentage of votes received by each slate.  A slate would be awarded one seat for each 10% of the total vote, with the final seat or two awarded by a remainder process.  

The obvious question is:  What are the benefits of adopting the Two-Vote Plan?

The main advantage is that it would guarantee that almost every Oregonian would be able to cast a vote for a candidate who actually ends up being elected

At present, this simply does not happen.

When all Representatives are elected from single-member districts, most Oregonians find themselves voting in elections where the result is a foregone conclusion.  A Democrat living in eastern Oregon has virtually no chance of voting for a Democrat who will go to Salem to represent him.  A Republican living in Portland has very little chance of electing a Republican who will go to Salem to represent her.


This would be true, even without gerrymandering.  With gerrymandering, the impacts of single-member districts are greatly exaggerated.  In simple truth - whether we vote for the winner or the loser - very few of us have the opportunity of casting a vote that might actually make a difference.

Beyond this, a third of Oregonians do not identify with either major party - preferring a third party, or not consistently favoring any party at all.  As things now stand, these voters usually end up voting for either a Democrat or a Republican, rather than "wasting their vote" on a candidate they prefer, but who has no chance of winning.

Under the 
Two-Vote system, nearly all Oregonians would have the opportunity - in Column B - to vote for a slate they actually support, and from which at least a few candidates would be elected.   

For example, Republicans in the Portland region would probably be able to elect two or three members of their party to the House.  Likewise, Democrats from Pendleton or Baker City or Lakeview would almost certainly cast votes electing at least two Representatives to the House.


As for those who dislike both major parties, there would finally be a serious chance if electing someone from a third party.  A slate winning only 10% of the regional vote would be entitled to one seat.  (Indeed, under the remainder process a slate winning 7% or so would have a decent chance of electing one Representative.)

The obvious result;  A House of Representatives elected in this way would better represent the great variety of opinions and interests in our very diverse state.

But there would also be - in all probability - subtler impacts on the
workings of the state House of Representatives.  

While Democrats would almost certainly continue to have a majority in the House, the Democratic caucus would have fewer members from Portland, and some new additions from Oregon's coastal and rural areas. With more areas of the state represented in the Democratic caucus, Oregon's House might still be controlled by Democrats - but it would not be so easily dominated by Portland Democrats.

Likewise, the Republican caucus would have slightly fewer members from rural areas, and a small infusion of members from urban and suburban areas.  This might contribute to less feeling of alienation among rural Representatives, who would now have metropolitan colleagues to partner with.  Over time, this might result - not only in better legislation - but in fewer walk-outs by rural Republicans who do not feel heard.

Finally, for everyone who wishes there were more than two parties in Salem, the Two-Vote Plan would, over time, result in at least a handful of Representatives from third parties taking their seats in the House.  Again, voices would be given to more diverse opinions and interests.  And perhaps, over time, attractive third-party leaders might emerge capable of becoming viable candidates for higher office - the state Senate, Congress, even US Senator or Governor.

So - that's the outline of the plan.  Your questions are welcome.

Monday, March 7, 2022

Toward Representation for All Oregonians


I was fairly new to Oregon when I picked my candidate for President and started looking for ways to get involved in the 2020 campaign. 

Over the course of a long life, I had occasionally dived into the political deep end before.  But I'd been younger then.

I was only 27 when I volunteered for John Warner's first run for the Senate in 1978.  By good fortune, I became an insider in that effort, which gave me a chance to get to know that remarkable man - and to escort his remarkable wife, Elizabeth Taylor, to a few public events.

In Gary Hart's 2004 presidential campaign - the one without the blonde - I played a strategic role at the Virginia Democratic Convention and stepped in at the last minute to preside over the successful Hart caucus.

Mark Warner's 2001 gubernatorial campaign introduced me to marathon door-to-door campaigning, a skill I'll be using again this year.

And I suppose I'll add Howard Dean's presidential campaign, too.  Though I really only did a week of hard work for Dean, that was in Manchester, New Hampshire - the fulfillment of a lifelong dream of playing a role in the Granite State's first-in-the-nation primary.

But those experiences seem to have been from another age.  It had been four decades since I made the sort of effort that followed my decision to join Elizabeth Warren's all-volunteer Oregon campaign.  From that effort, I learned a great deal about my new home state and its politics in five months of fairly intensive travel.

To be candid, Warren hadn't been my first choice to topple Donald Trump.  I had initially favored Al Franken, who was - yes, I'll say it - cancelled.   

But Warren proved an excellent choice for me.  While I disagreed with many of her plans, long experience has taught me not to pay too much attention to what presidential candidates say they'll do in office.  That sort of analysis might work for down-ballot offices, but the Presidency presents challenges beyond the capacity of mortal man or woman to imagine.  Until you've taken a seat behind that desk, you simply can't know what you'll learn, what events will come at you, what choices you'll have to make.

As a lifelong student and longtime teacher of history, I've come to look for the personal qualities that have, in the past, made for presidential greatness: vision; imagination; the ability to listen; wisdom; intellectual curiosity; the ability to build a team and use it well; great moral courage; a high energy level; ruthlessness; the ability to learn and grow.

That last one, especially. 

Only one President in our history was suited to the job when he took the oath of office.  The Constitutional Convention of 1787 had drawn up Article II with George Washington in mind, and the Presidency fit him like a glove.  Every president since has had to grow into it.   Those who didn't grow enough have gone down in history as failures.

Campaigning for Elizabeth Warren quickly exposed me to one harsh reality of Oregon politics - the domination of the state by one great metropolis and two smaller cities - Portland, Salem and Eugene - and by one party, the Democrats.  I quickly learned that the Warren campaign's strategy focused on seven counties along the upper I-5 corridor.  Oregon's other 29 counties - including mine (beautiful Clatsop) - "didn't count".  

I wasn't entirely shocked.  My native Virginia is usually dominated by blue urban areas - the suhurbs of Washington, DC (NoVA); Richmond; and the seven cities of Tidewater.  But in Virginia, the red rural and small town areas are sufficiently populous that they can occasionally overwhelm the Democrats' urban strongholds.  Indeed, that happened last November. 

In Oregon, the imbalance is on an entirely different order of magnitude.  I had heard of secessionist movements in the East, and walkouts by Republican legislators - but I'd always assumed the worst about those involved.  Now, I began to understand.  In Oregon, unless you live in the Portand metro area, Salem or Eugene, you're not in charge of your own destiny.  And if you're not a Democrat, you're just along for the ride.

People tend to resent things like that.

This realization did not cause me to rethink my commitment to Elizabeth Warren.  The folks involved in her campaign were fine people. They were simply playing the game the way it's played in today's Oregon.  

But, not being from one of the seven counties that count - and being a volunteer - I wasn't required to play the game their way.  If Elizabeth Warren won the nomination, and went on to become President, she would be President of all Americans - not just those whose votes counted in a primary strategy.

So I persuaded a small cadre of the PDX crowd to join me in a 36-County Project - an effort to find Warren chairs in every county in Oregon.  Over the next few months, I visited Democratic meetings in Clatsop, Tillamook, Columbia, Hood River, Wasco, Yamhill, and Jackson counties.  Other road warriors took our message eastward as far as Union County - and we persuaded the national campaign to send us telephone lists of registered Democrats in distant counties, so we could attempt to recruit leaders without making so many long drives.  

I also helped our team set up a table at the biennial Democratic Summit at Sunriver - the only presidential campaign to do so.  We met Democrats from all over the state, recruited new local leaders, and handed out nice, quickly-made buttons honoring Congressman Elijah Cummings, who had died two days before the Summit.  

As a result of our efforts, by the time Warren's national campaign began to falter, the 36-County Project had found effective leaders in some 22 of Oregon's 36 counties - including counties as remote from Portland as Harney and Coos.

The 36-County Project was, for me, a true introduction to my new home state.  I met people and learned things I could never have encountered in the quiet, privileged enclave of Cannon Beach.  

This spring, as I begin my campaign for the Oregon House of Representatives, the lessons of the 36-County Project remain with me. My perception of Oregon is of a state dominated by one great metropolis, two allied cities, and a single political party.  And I certainly relate to the sense that many Oregonians - in most of the 36 counties - have of being unrepresented in halls of their own legislature.

This year, I'm running as a non-party candidate - my natural position for a pragmatic centrist in a polarized, two-party world.  My campaign will necessarily focus on the one issue that motivated me to run - the climate crisis, and the failure of the two-party system to address that crisis.  But that failure strikes me that as symptomatic of the polarized red-blue division in our state and nation. 

And that division - so long as it persists - will present an almost insurmountable obstacle to developing the sort of civic dialogue and united effort required to save our planet from the worse impacts of planetary heating.

This year, I have made myself this promise:  During my campaign fir the Oregon House, I will present a plan to reform the way in which Oregonians elect members of that house.  This plan - while it would be innovative in the United States - has been time-tested abroad.  It is based on a model political scientists term parallel voting, and its great advantage is that it would assure that virtually every Oregonian - no matter where they live - will end up voting for someone who goes to Salem - and who speaks for both their political views and their region. 

In the next week, I'll post an outline of this plan.  I hope you'll check back, read the plan, and think it over.   

Your feedback will be most welcome.




Tuesday, March 1, 2022

Lincoln Green: The Party America Lacks

 

For many years, I have avoided this - hoping that someone younger, or better-known, or with more national political experience - would take up the challenge.  But the sands of time are running, and at 70 - with our Republic in the midst of a genuine struggle against both internal and external forces of autocracy, and with our planet approaching a crisis unlike any humankind has yet faced - it seems I have no valid excuse not to try. 

The challenge to which I refer is the creation of a third political party - positioned approximately where progressive Republicans stood before they became extinct.  A party of the broad center.  A party which is proudly nationalist - inclusively nationalist - rather than tribal.  A party which is firmly committed to the Constitution, and to the vision of the Founders who created that surprisingly durable charter. 

And a party - above all - which accepts the existential challenge of the climate crisis and is prepared to attack its causes; work toward reversing its dire advance; and, while that struggle goes forward, directs all of our modern ingenuity toward programs of adaptation and resilience.

And, because meeting the climate crisis will require a level of civic unity desperately lacking in our nation at present - a party committed to bringing Americans together, even when that means occasionally knocking a few heads together.  The time for tolerating foolishness and falsehood are over.  There is too much to do.  

To be perfectly honest, it is the climate crisis that motivates me - at this age - to bestir myself.  Great nations - as great empires - rise and fall.  If it were just a matter of seeing my country speeding toward the precipice, I might have shrugged in resignation and contented myself with the historian's perspective: Nothing lasts forever.

But the climate crisis is something different.  It represents the potential end of human life - perhaps not the life part, so much as the human part.  For we are not a species set apart.  We are part of an evolutionary generation of species - those life-forms which emerged after the last great extinction - and our very identity is bound up with those other species with whom we co-evolved.  I am sure that - if global heating reaches an extreme stage - some relatively small collections of our descendents might be able to live on in desert domes on this planet, or in subsurface tunnels on Mars, or perhaps on some moon of Saturn. 

But to my mind, they will soon cease to be truly human.  Detached from the world in which we evolved - the flora and fauna of our native planet - they will devolve into an impoverished, degenerate species.  I wonld not want to be one of them.  Better to die with my planet, and my evolutionary classmates.

Now, here I must pause - because the sort of dreadful future I am imagining is probably a century off, at least.  And really, I believe there is yet time for us to come to our senses, recognize the threat of global heating for what it is, and take rigorous steps to meet that threat. 

In another decade, rigorous might not suffice.  At some point, if we procrastinate enough, only very drastic steps will be sufficient.  At some point, what is necessary might be so unacceptable that humankind simply chooses to surrender to its fate.

I'm an optimist.  I think we will wake up in time, rediscover our innate, human capacities for collective action and self-sacrifice, and save both ourselves and most of our fellow species from the worst.

But to do so will take action.  Not in a few years.  Now.

And this brings me back around to where I began.  I do believe humankind can rise to the challenge of global heating.  But I do not believe we can do it without the leadership of the United States.  And I do not believe the United States can do it under the present two-party system.  That system has been broken for generations.  It is barely capable of adopting a budget, increasing the debt ceiling, and counting the Electoral vote for the next President.

It is certainly incapable of summoning its people to the sort of resolute action which overcame the Great Depression, won the Second World War, and put humans on the Moon.


Perhaps, with luck, some younger, brighter, more energetic spirits will find me in the wilderness, and adapt my thoughts into a sharp, practical weapon with which to meet the present crisis.  I'd prefer to help and advise, rather than - as King Henry put it - "crush [my] old limbs in ungentle steel" and take the field in my 70s.

With that off my chest, here is my point in a nutshell:  The United States needs a third party - and we need it now.  

The problem with making this case is simple.  Most Americans have an intuitive belief that a two-party system is the way it's supposed to be; or the way it has always been; or even what the Founding Fathers intended.

In point of fact, most of us have believed one or another of these things since we studied American Government in our last year of high school - which, sadly, is the last time most of us systematically studied government at all.  Which means that - for the great majority of us - acceptance of the two-party system is an unexamined aspect of what we perceive as American political life.

Which is unfortunate, if we recall what Socrates - at the supreme crisis of his life - said about the unexamined life.

In a recent post, I delved into into why so many of us assume that the two-party system exists due to some law of nature - and argued my case that the United States - having produced one extremely successful third party - could do so again, under similar circumstances.

I think of this third party as the Commonwealth Party, but that choice is not finally mine.  For now, I think of it as a color - not red or blue, but Lincoln Green, the color worn by Robin Hood and his Merry Men.  It's a lovely, sprightly color - and the words Lincoln and Green say most of what really needs to be said about this hopeful new party.

For the next nine months - if I stay healthy - I will take the first steps toward creating such a party.  I'll write about it, here and elsewhere.  And, as a candidate for the Oregon Legislative Assembly, I'll work to bring together a merry band of citizens in my own corner of my adopted state - perhaps to be the mustard seed from which great things grow.


Monday, February 21, 2022

Impossible?

 

It is a commonplace of American politics that third parties can never succeed.  Editorialists, op-ed columnists, talking heads - even political scientists (who should know better) - insist that, for constitutional, institutional, and other reasons, third parties cannot succeed. 

Which would be tragic, if it were true, because today's Republican and Democratic parties are manifestly dangerous and useless, respectively.  The Democratic Party hasn't been good at governing since Lyndon Johnson doubled down on JFK's early investment in Vietnam.  The Republicans - at least since Ronald Reagan pronounced government "the problem" don't believe in governing.  

Tragic if it were true. 
But of course, it isn't.  The United States has had one extraordinarily successful political party.  It sprang into existence in the aftermath of President Franklin Pierce signing the Kansas-Nebraska Act on May 30, 1854.  That chief effect of that law - sponsored by Illinois Senator Stephen A. Douglas - was to repeal the Missouri Compromise, which had banned slavery in all US territories north of latitude 36
°30'.


For 34 years, the Missouri Compromise Line had made it possible for Congress to admit new states in pairs - one slave, one free - thus maintaining a sectional balance in the Senate.  Both North and South could live with that, and America was thus free to grow richer, prouder, more populous, and ever more confident of its destiny.

But when the Line disappeared, it suddenly became possible to imagine slavery expanding both westward and northward.  This proved too much for many in both parties, including an impressive number of professional politicians - governors, senators, congressmen, even skilled political operatives. 

Within months, in most Northern states, fusion or anti-Nebraska parties had formed.  Former Whigs and Democrats - men who had been bitter partisan enemies - embraced each other (if cautiously) and vowed to work together to restore the sacred Line. 

That summer, the anti-Nebraska partyu in Michigan had adopted the name Republican.  Within two years, Republican parties were fielding candidates in every free state, and a national convention had chosen John C. Fremont as the first Republican candidate for President of the United States.

In 1858, the Illinois Republican Party nominated Abraham - a former state legislator and one-term Congressman - for the US Senate.  Lincoln would challenge Stephen Douglas, author of the Kansas-Nebraska Act.  Though Douglas eventually won re-election, the seven debates between the two candidates - reported throughout the nation - made Lincoln a credible candidate for President in 1860.

In 1858, the Republican Party gained control of the House of Representatives.  Two years later, Abraham Lincoln was elected President of the United States.  When he took office, on March 4, 1861, his party - so recently a third party - was less than seven years old.   It held the White House and the House of Representives.  Within months, as Senators from seceding states withdrew from Congress, the Republican Party controlled the Federal government.

How was this possible, in a nation where third parties never succeed?

A detailed analysis would require a great deal of study.  Perhaps the best single-volume history of the period is David M. Potter's Pulitzer Prize-winning The Impending Crisis, 1848-1861 (posthumously completed by his colleaguek Don E. Fehrenbacher.)

But in brief, the circumstances which made it possible for a third party to rise to dominance in a few years' time were three:

First, the defection of serious political professionals from two long-established major parties was motivated by their genuine outrage over their parties' failure to address an issue of imperative moral importance - the expansion of slavery.

Second, in addition to its moral opposition to slavery, the new party united around an ambitious economic program which would transform the United States into the most powerful economy on the planet.  This program involved the rapid expansion of farming and ranching into the West, providing food for the growing industrial cities of the East and Midwest by means of a new, transcontinental railroad network.  All would be financed by a national banking system.

Third the new party which closed the West to slavery - while opening it to small farms and ranches - was strongly nationalistic - in contrast to the Whigs and Democrats, both riven by sectionalism.

This was the formula for the Republicans' unique success:  a profound moral imperative, closely allied to a timely economic transformation, both pursued in a spirit of renewed national unity.

Today, at a time of growing disunion and societal breakdown, we confront a parallel opportunity.  The great moral imperative of our time is to assure the survival of our planet as a place of habitation for humankind - and many other species which whom we have co-evolved since the last great extinction.  To this moral imperative is linked the overdue transfromation of our economy from one based on excessive consumption, easy credit, and fossil fuels to a new economy of security, sustainability, thrift, and human dignity.

Neither of the two existing parties seems remotely capable of leading America in achieving these twin goals.  If a third party is not possible, 

If a third party is not possible, our once-great nation is doomed to decline - at a time when the planet desperately needs our leadership.

But first, a third party is necessary - a third party which can rapidly become the leading party in the nation.  

Impossible?  We will never know, unless and until we try.

Wednesday, December 30, 2020

For 2021: Only Connect

 
Those who know me from my newspaper column in the Chester Village News will recall that I have little patience with New Year's resolutions.  I've long believed that, as evolved primates, we remain largely governed by nature's rhythms - which would suggest that the shortest days of the year are a poor time to undertake changes requiring a lot of energy and physical effort. 

Thus, the predictable failure of January gym memberships, which run flat contrary to our caveman bodies' inclination to store fat and get more sleep during the winter.  (Recent scientific evidence that some of our forebears actually hibernated would only have bolstered my past arguments.)  Thus, in my column, I argued for making health-related resolutions at the beginning of the pagan "new year" - at the vernal equinox.

But today, in the waning days of the presidency of Florida Man #1*, I'm going to break a personal rule - to suggest a New Year's resolution to friends who care about the future of this country as a democratic republic in a world which seems, once again, to be tilting toward autocracy.  Here it is:

This year, I will learn (or re-learn) a modern language to the point of reasonable fluency.

Now, you can take this suggestion literally, or metaphorically.  You can learn a literal language - or learn how people who don't think as you do express themselves about contemporary issues.  Either will do.  Both would be outstanding.

What I'm suggesting is that we who care about the future of this country - as a government of laws, based on popular consent - need to get out of our bubbles, or silos, or whatever, and learn to communicate with people who don't share our worldview.  Those people could be fellow citizens whom we tend to regard as the unenlighted foe - or citizens of other democracies we should regard as potential allies in a global struggle for democracy.  Either is fine.

Remaining quietly in one's privileged, middle-class American bubble is not fine.

And the good thing is - adopting this resolution will not be nearly as challenging as losing twenty pounds, or getting in three days a week of cardio.  For one thing, it won't be involve a lot of physical effort at a season when we'd prefer to be snacking and napping.  Mental effort, yes.  But winter's not a bad time for mental effort.

For another thing, it won't be - like health-related resolutions - a form of maintenance work.  Americans tend to hate maintenance work, because we are culturally habituated to acquiring new things.  That's a feature of late-stage corporate consumer capitalism.  (More on that in future posts.)  But it's a fact that most of us vaguely resent doing repairs, mowing the lawn, weeding the flowerbeds, or doing the laundry.  We're wired for new.  We're wired to buy.  Maintenance is frustrating.  You do it today, you'll have to do it again in a week, or a month, or next year.

I suspect that's another reason health-related New Year's resolutions are so difficult.  We dislike maintenance - especially when what we're maintaining is starting to run down - which, for anyone out of their teens or early twenties, includes our bodies.  We'd prefer to buy new - which probably explains the growing popularity of evangelical religion in our country.  Go to Heaven, get a new body - and one that doesn't require maintenance.  

Again, a subject for future posts.

The nice thing about a learning-oriented resolution is that it is - in a very real sense - acquisitive.  Learning a new language feels like progress, not maintenance.  So maybe - just maybe - learning something new would work as a New Year's resolution.  

At any rate, I suggest it's worth a try.  

So why a new language?

Well, in the case of an actual language, it's really good for the brain.  It's pretty well-established that people who are reasonably fluent in two languages are more imaginative and intellctually flexible than those who are trapped in one.  Every language represents a different way of seeing the world.  I used to have fun - as a substitute teacher - explaining to French students how reflexive verbs express how the French enjoy an entirely more comfortable  relationship with their bodies than our rather detached, vaguely hostile one.  That was one of those lessons that really seemed to reach students - and it wasn't even in my field.

But I digress.  (Yes, I do that.)

Back at the beginning of this piece, I suggested that learning a language could be a patriotic duty - and I'd like to wrap this up by circling back to that idea.

In 2019, when I was campaigning for Liz Warren, I gradually realized how few of her supporters - mostly privileged, white liberals - had the language skills to communicate with Oregon's substantial Hispanic communities.  A year later, after the too-close election just passed, I shared the dismay of many at Joe Biden's loss of support in Hispanic communities - particularly, and perilously, in Florida's Cuban community.

And it occurred to me:  If I were a Democrat, at the birth of 2021, I would be starting a Spanish-language project among activists in my local party.  Before we know it, 2022 will be here - and the Hispanic vote will be critical to Democrats in holding the House and trying to gain an actual majority in the Senate. 

Since it's useless to start learning a new language a few months before the campaign season begins, now is the time - and in most of the US, Spanish is the language - for political activists who want to forestall the Return of Florida Man #1 - or someone like him - in four years.

Now, for those more interested in policy than in ground-game politics, other languages than Spanish could be equally useful.  Over the past year, the United States has demonstrated just how far behind the rest of the developed democracies we have fallen.  Take a look at the global statistics on Covid-19 (worldometer.com is a useful site), and you'll see just how miserably we have done, by almost every measure.

And yes, a lot of that has to do with Florida Man #1 being in the White House.  But it also has much to do with our national allergy to learning from other countries - especially a non-English-speaking countries.

This American affliction of We're-Number-One-ism severely hampers our ability to solve problems.  Americans seem to think we have to re-invent every imaginable wheel, when in fact, there is much to be borrowed from the successes of friendly nations.  Finland's approach to elementary education.  The French approach to health care.  The emerging Spanish approach to taming urban automotive traffic.  The Dutch approach to including bicycles in the urban transportation mix.  The German approach to a whole lot of things (including electing their national legislature).

I should include some ideas from Asia here, but I'm woefully ignorant about Asia's democracies.  We could all learn more.  Asia is on my list for 2021.

Now, at the top of this post, I referred to the possibility of learning another "language" in a metaphorical sense - i.e., learning to communicate with fellow Americans who see things differently, but who aren't downright hostile to our own points-of-view.  They're out there.  I'd be willing to bet that half the people who voted for the Florida Man #1 can't stand him.  

They just dislike the Democratic Party even more.  It would be useful to understand why.

But this piece is getting long - and I've been away from this blog too long to demand an endless read from those I'm trying to win back.  So I'll get back to learning metaphorical languages in a week or so.

Meanwhile, please, consider learning a literal second-language.  Or, if you can stand the maintenance work, getting back a language you used to know.  It's easier than it used to be.  The online apps are amazing - and many are free.  (If you need suggestions, leave a comment. I'll be happy to recommend some possibilities.)  

Think about it.  Happy New Year!  Bonne Année!


__________

* Florida Man #1:  One New Year's resolution I intend to work on is not speaking or writing the name of our out-going President, except when absolutely necessary.  He seems to thrive on attention - positive or negative.  It feels like using his name is a way of keeping him alive.  So I'm starting to refer to him as Florida Man #1.  It seems to fit.

Sunday, July 12, 2020

If Schools Must Open, Let’s Try This


The following was originally posted on July 12, 2020.


I’ll preface this by saying that I’m not in favor of opening public schools until the US has implemented an effective, nationwide strategy for dealing with Covid-19 – which, unfortunately, doesn’t seem likely to happen before January 20, 2021.
  
There are any number of strategies that might achieve this.  Some advanced nations – most prominently, New Zealand – seem to have figured things out.  Here at home, upper New England seems well on the way to stabilizing things.  

But America's southern tier is on fire, and the rest of us might not be far behind.  The US is still not stockpiling PPE against renewed eruptions of The Virus.  Between a third and a half of Americans don’t have the basic decency to wear a mask in public, even when the law requires it.  And we aren’t testing nearly enough.  (Despite the President’s assertions, the US currently ranks 23rd in per capita testing.) *
All in all, it seems likely that businesses – and schools – will be closing and opening, again and again, from now until a new President is inaugurated. 

But that isn’t our topic today.

Today, I’m assuming the powers-that-be will, in most states, try to open schools at the usual time, or a bit later.  From the experience of other countries, we might be able to open normally – with a few adjustments – for elementary school kids. 

But for secondary students, while there is a plethora of plans, none looks very good.  The plans that seem relatively safe rely, in great part, on a good deal of remote learning.  The plans that essentially involve having most students back in the classroom don’t look remotely safe.

It would seem that we must either sacrifice learning, or safety.  No third alternative has been suggested.

What I propose might be that third alternative.  It offers something close to normal instruction – possibly with better outcomes for some students – together with greater safety than any in-school plan I’ve seen.  It has the added advantage of having been used successfully in non-emergency situations. **

It’s called ­­one-subject scheduling, and it works like this.  Instead of the present secondary-school schedule, by which each student takes five, six or seven courses at a time – with each course meeting once a day, or once every other day – under a one-subject schedule, each student would take one course at a time, all day long, for 5 ½ or 6 weeks.

The same teacher, and the same group of students, would meet in the same classroom for that six-week term, at the end of which, successful students would have earned one credit.  After a short break, during which all classrooms would be thoroughly cleaned, school would resume, with students moving on to their next courses.  At the end of a year – if no health emergencies supervened – students would be exactly where they would have been had they taken all their courses under a traditional schedule. 

The advantage of this one-subject system is that students and teachers would be exposed to only a small group of individuals for the entire six-week term.  By working out staggered times for breaks and meals, school administrators could minimize the number of students using bathrooms, cafeterias, and other common areas at the same time.  At meals, safety could be maximized by having students from the same class sit and eat together.

It wouldn’t be perfect, but with careful procedures and a little luck, it should greatly reduce the chance of viral spreading.  At worst, if a student or teacher came down with Covid-19, only the people in one class would have to self-isolate.  The rest of the school could, with precautions, continue to operate, avoiding a shutdown affecting the entire student body.

Indeed, using this system, a school could further reduce risks by holding classes in shifts – with some classes starting in the afternoon and running into the evening. 

Of course, there would be problems calling for innovative solutions.  Some subjects – math, foreign language, lab science – might actually work better if taught as an intensive course.  Others, such as literature – with its heavier reading assignments – would be more difficult.  
But resourceful and inventive teachers and administrators would find ways of making a one-subject schedule work to everyone’s advantage.  They might even find that it helps many students focus better, and learn more.

Let me end as I began.  I do not think that, in most parts of the US, we are anywhere near ready to re-open schools – at least, secondary schools.  Our national and state governments have a lot of work to do before that should be even thinkable.

But if schools must re-open, states and localities should seriously consider one-subject scheduling at the secondary level.  It’s safer.  And it would be at least as educationally sound as what we were doing before The Virus.
** Fork Union Military Academy, in Fluvanna County, Virginia, is one example.  FUMA has used this approach successfully for many years.

Thursday, April 30, 2020

Serving Suggestion: A Meatless May


The Current Occupant has, by a strange contortion of his powers under the Defense Production Act, ordered that meat and poultry production facilities remain open during the present pandemic.

This curious order comes at a time when Federal leadership continues to be inadequate in meeting truly critical needs such as Covid-19 test kits and test-reading capabilities - to say nothing of a continuing supply of personal protective equipment for medical staff, first responders, elder-care workers, etc.

But, given the proclivities of the Current Occupant and his staff - some of whom are far cleverer and more devious than he seems to be - this order has a certain, bizarre logic.

First, its declared purpose - to assure a continuous supply of meat and poultry to the nation's grocery stores - comports with the Current Occupant's preference for a diet rich in animal protein.

Second, its assertion of a Federal power to re-open facilities closed by state health authorities consists with the present Administration's insistence that the powers of the national government - and particularly, the Executive branch - are supreme and unquestionable.

Third, considering the outbreaks of viral infections among workers in these facilities - a large number of whom are immigrants (documented and undocumented) - keeping these facilities open has a definite genocidal potential.

It is difficult to write these words, but for the past three years, our government has shown a surprising willingness to tolerate - and even sponsor - policies which have a tendency to kill brown and black people.  Whether it is by arresting Good Samaritans who leave water and food for undocumented aliens crossing Southwestern deserts; failing to provide sanitary and medical care for refugees along our southern border; pardoning a rogue soldier accused of murdering Afghan civilians; or failing to build on the previous administration's efforts to combat blue-on-black killings - the simple fact is that this Administration - our government - seems blithely unconcerned when its actions, or failures to act, result in the deaths of people who are not white.

The President's order that meat and poultry processors remain open - even at enormous risk to their workers - is of a piece with this tendency.   It will kill people, and many of those people will be brown or black.

We should do something to combat this policy.  But what can private citizens do to counter a Presidential order under the Defense Production Act?

Simple:  We could unite to take a vacation from meat and poultry. 

What if we began - starting today - to develop momentum for a nationwide Meatless May?  By the end of next month, we could have undermined the essential logic of the Executive order.

The Current Occupant's order rests on the assertion that the national defense relies on supply chains which provide meat and poultry to our grocery stores.   It's hard to justify that assertion under any set of circumstances, but if millions of us simply stopped buying and eating meat and poultry, it would make nonsense of the whole business.

For the truth is, most of us eat far too much animal protein.  A reduction in the demand for these products would be good for our health - and good for our planet.

In recent weeks, a number of thoughtful writers have commented on the possibility that the present economic shutdown might have the effect of accelerating a shift to the use of renewable energy sources, while hastening the death of the fossil fuel industry.

Perhaps it is time we considered a parallel step with regard another industry which contributes to global heating - the industrial processors of meat and poultry.  If we took this occasion to eat less meat - or no meat - it could help us realize that a diet low in animal protein is a viable lifestyle choice.

This is a small blog, and will not reach that many readers.  But think about it - and if you like the idea, please share the idea with your friends.

What would you say to defying the Current Occupant's new order by joining forces for a Meatless May?

It could do some good.

Update, May 2:  Since this piece was posted two days ago, the League of Latin American Citizens (LULAC) has called for national Meatless May Mondays in support of workers in meat and poultry production facilities.  Other groups have urged a more modest MeatLess May - less meat, but not none.  Still others have reminded Americans of the World War I era "Meatless May", a national movement to save meat supplies for the troops in Europe.

It is extremely unlikely that this modest blog had anything to do with these developments.  Good ideas often occur to several people simultaneously.  

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

You Think The Electoral College Is Undemocratic?


Democrats are curious folk.  Most Democrats, given an opening, will endlessly bewail the undemocratic nature of the Electoral College - an admittedly imperfect institution - because it sometimes allows a candidate receiving a minority of votes to become President, instead of the  candidate receiving the most votes. 

The most recent example, of course, is Donald Trump's Electoral College victory over Hillary Clinton, though for my money, the minority presidency which history will judge most decisive - in terms of furthering the 50-year downward spiral of American greatness - will be George W. Bush's judicially-decreed victory over Al Gore in 2000.

But in 2000 and 2016, the Electoral College winner was - at least - the choice of tens of millions of Americans.  In 2016, for example, Mr. Trump garnered around 63 million votes to Ms. Clinton's 65.9 million.

Compare that to the fact that - sometime in the next few months - Joe Biden will, all by himself,  select his running-mate for Vice-President.  A very consequential choice - made not by a majority, nor even a large minority, but by one old, white man.

As things look now, the object of this one-vote landslide will very likely become Vice-President of the United States on January 20, 2021 - from which point she would become Biden's constitutional successor.  Should Biden survive four very challenging years in office, - and choose not to seek a second term at the age of 82 - his hand-picked Vice-President would be ideally positioned to claim the Democratic nomination against all comers. 

Quite a bit of power to be wielded by a single citizen!  Yet thus far, no significant voice has been raised in protest against the radically undemocratic tradition by which our vice-presidents - often, our future presidents - are elevated.

Now, some will argue that the privilege of a major-party presidential nominee to choose his running-mate is a time-honored tradition, and that is true.  But it is a tradition less than a century old.  By comparison, the Electoral College - a tradition rooted in words of the Constitution - is well over 200 years old, and few still regard it as sacrosanct.

Moreover, unlike the Electoral College, the tradition of allowing a party nominee to name his running-mate doesn't even approximate something like a popular vote.  It is one man's decision.  By comparison, the election of a pope - in the secrecy of the College of Cardinals - is a New England town meeting.

And this year, that decision will be enormously consequential.  November's election will be - almost certainly - a referendum on President Donald Trump.  If Joe Biden wins, it will not be because Americans see him as the dynamic leader we need in a time of cascading crises.

Biden, a likable, unremarkable, old buffer, had run for President twice before, when he was younger and more dynamic.  His presidential prospects were resurrected when he was chosen - by the single vote of Barack Obama - to join the ticket in 2008. 

And this year, the resurrection of his fading nomination prospects were the product of manufactured fears - the so-called electabiity issue; the non-stop advocacy of certain media outlets - not least MSNBC's Morning Joe; and Biden's adoption by the black Democratic political machine of one red state, South Carolina - a state which will certainly not give him its Electoral votes in the fall.

Biden is hardly the candidate to infuse Americans with hope in these uncertain times.  He ran as the candidate least likely to frighten anyone undecided about voting against the President.  He was sold as a candidate for the race everyone envisioned six months ago - where Trump would run on a booming economy, and the Democratic nominee would run on Trump's incompetence at everything else.

What's needed now is not a bland, safe candidate, but a visionary reformer on the lines of the two Roosevelts.  But the least Democrats - and other Americans horrified at the prospect of four more years of Trump - should demand is that Biden's running-mate and prospective successor be the smartest, most dynamic, most competent, and most visionary person available.

If Biden chooses such a partner, he will greatly strengthen his case for being a welcome transitional figure as America moves beyond The Virus and into a new, more just, equal, and progressive era.

But shame on the Democratic Party - and all of us, really - for allowing one man to make such a monumental choice all on his own.









Wednesday, March 25, 2020

Let's Do This Today


Okay, Friends, here's the situation:

1.  We're in a national crisis, which Donald Trump is turning into a 24/7 campaign infomercial for his re-election campaign, while the Democrats - aside from performing well as legislators - are getting no media attention at all.

2.  The Democratic contest for President is over.  We might wish it were otherwise, but Joe Biden is going to be the Democratic nominee in 2020.  The time for hand-wringing is past.

     2a.  Because of his age, if he is elected, Joe Biden will be a one-term
            President, and his Vice-President will be the odds-on favorite to
            succeed him in 2024.  And the choice of that person is entirely up
            to Joe Biden.

3.  The coronavirus pandemic will likely peak before a new Administration can take office.   For the moment, we have the least effective imaginable national leadership, but we'll just have to do the best we can through citizen and community efforts, and the leadership of state and local officials, to survive this thing.

4.  The economic impact of the pandemic will be devastating, and will require the wisest possible leadership to restore prosperity here, and around the world.

5.   The pandemic, and its economic consequences, have created two possible courses of action for America - either a corporate-led effort to "rebuild" the economy, so that the 1% and the .1% are even better off, and more dominant, in future OR a progressive-led effort to restructure our society so that we come out of this crisis with an economy which is much fairer, provides greater opportunity to more Americans, and is far more environmentally sustainable.

Given these apparent realities, there seems to me no question that Joe Biden must choose Elizabeth Warren as his running-mate.  Senator Warren is, because of her deep understanding of health-care issues, the most competent person in national politics to assist Biden in managing whatever continuing health crisis exists when he takes office.

Warren is also, by any measure, the smartest, most dynamic, most creative, and most far-sighted advocate of the sort of big structural change our society will need as the coronavirus crisis recedes.  If Biden is to be President, Warren must be his designated successor.

And the time to act is now.

Today, I went to the official Biden campaign website and signed up as a supporter.  Clicking through the website, the second page asks the question, "Looking ahead to the 2020 election, what are you most concerned about?"   I skipped past all the options provided, clicked on "Other", and wrote "Electing Elizabeth Warren Vice-President". 

Then I clicked through to the end and contributed $12 dollars - or, if your budget is tight (as most are) $1.20 or even $0.12- as a signal that, in your opinion, the Number One thing for Biden to do is to name Elizabeth Warren as his Number Two.

And that's what I'm suggesting that every other progressively-minded American do.  Today.  Send a signal to Joe Biden that he needs Elizabeth Warren at his side.  And do that at a time when the Democrats desperately need a headline-grabbing story to compete with the President for attention.

I'm guessing, if 100,000 of us do the same thing - sign up with Joe, indicate that Warren for VP is our number one priority, and contribute exactly $12 - that gesture will have the desired impact.

But there's only one way to find out.

Friday, March 20, 2020

At Home with Kids? Learn a Language Together!


With schools closing around the country, millions of parents are suddenly confronted by the problem of what to do about their children's educations.  The prospect of having the kids at home for weeks - perhaps, months - presents a daunting challenge.

It could also present a rare opportunity.

As an old history teacher who has delved pretty deeply into educational policy, here's my suggestion:  Learn a language together.

The advantages of language learning are enormous.  Most Americans - including college graduates and professionals - are effectively monolingual.  We might know enough to order food or wine in a French or Mexican restaurant.  Or find a restroom or get back to our hotel when travelling abroad.   If our jobs require it, we might be able to speak enough of one or two languages to communicate with co-workers on work-related issues.

But few of us are truly fluent, and - in a once and future global society - that's a handicap.  It's also a national embarrassment.

When I was teaching high school, in my early 30s, I used to take groups of students on three-week tours of Europe in the summer.  One summer, I let the kids fly home with a colleague so I could stay for a few weeks on my own, bumming around on a Eurailpass.  One day, I found myself on a train, in conversation with a pretty woman sitting across from me.  She was Swiss, a secretary, no more than 20.  I complimented her on her English - which was, in fact, very good.

She smilingly demurred.  Her English was not that good, she said.  Her German, French, and Italian were much better.

This young woman was obviously intelligent, but she wasn't a college graduate.  But she spoke at least four languages fluently.  I was at least twelve years older, and had a BA and a law degree from one of America's best public universities - and I spoke my native English and slightly rusty German.

I've never forgotten that moment.  It was humbling.  We are citizens of a super-power, at a time when the world has become one community - and most of us can't speak to anyone who hasn't taken the trouble to learn English.

And neither can our kids.

Now, I could go on and on about why this must change.  But we all know this.  The problem is, our educational system is not set up to make that change.

Our schools operate on the basis of short classroom sessions - 50 minutes daily, or 90 minutes on alternate days - with 20 to 30 students in a class.  Language learning works best when it's immersive.  You can't learn a language very well when it's just a box on a schedule.  You have to live with it.

For language learning, the class period or block is basically a waste of time.  Likewise the large, standard class of 20 or more students.

And, of course, one learns languages most easily as a young child - not a teenager.  The older you get, the harder it gets.

Which is what makes the present moment so ideal for language learning.

If you're at home with a child, or several children, learning a new language is something you can all do together.  Unlike other subjects, the younger children won't struggle to keep up with their elders - they'll probably excel.  If anything, you'll be the slow learner.

The other great thing about language learning is that there are so many ways to go about it - most of which don't feel much like work.  There are lots of on-line programs for basic instruction.  I personally enjoy Duolingo, a free app with short lessons and lots of little incentives, like a video game.  My favorite thing about Duolingo is that it doesn't let you finish a lesson until you get everything right.  There's no shame.  You just try again until you get it - and then you're congratulated.

There are a lot of low-tech ways to learn a language, too.  When I learned my German, it was in an eight-week immersive summer course.  I was 32, and I achieved decent fluency, with a very good accent, in eight weeks.  One of our first-day exercises was to label everything in our residence house - doors, windows, tables, refrigerators, floors, etc. - with hand-lettered index cards.  Within days, these nouns were ours.

We also did a lot of non-work-like things.  We watched movies in German.  We sang songs.  We talked to each other - clumsily, at first, looking up words in our dictionaries as we went.  (Our program's rule was, no English, from Day One - so we started with baby talk, but we quickly got better.)

During this enforced time out-of-school, a lot of parents will try to keep their kids on track with the curriculum of the school they were attending.  There's a case to be made for that, and if your kids' school is offering meaningful distance learning, you might try it.

The problem is, not every family will do that - or do it in the same way.  When the kids eventually get back together, there will be marked discrepancies - and a lot of the curriculum will have to be re-taught, to get everyone back on the same page.  Those kids who've worked hardest to "keep up" will likely have to suffer through it all a second time.

Rather than subject your children to sitting through a repeat of what they've labored to learn while school was out, why not take the opportunity to learn something together - in a way the schools can't possibly match?  It's a lot more fun - and it would bring the family together in a new and exciting way.

A little exploration will do for finding the necessary resources.  They are almost infinite.

Looked at optimistically, this time is yours.  Why not seize it?

Burr Should Resign, Now.


Throughout the endless years of the Trump Presidency, I've had a grudging respect for Senator Richard Burr (R-NC).  While Republican Congressmen such as Devin Nunes and Mark Meadows were, shall we say, obfuscating candidate Trump's involvement with Russia, Chairman Burr worked hand-in-hand with the Ranking Member, Senator Mark Warner (D-VA), to lead the Senate Intelligence Committee through what looked like an honest, bipartisan investigation of the same subject.

Here, I thought, is an okay guy.  A Republican, admittedly, but a North Carolinian.  As a native and long-time Virginian, I've always tended to give residents of the Tar Heel state the benefit of the doubt.  (Unless, of course, they played basketball for Duke.)

To be sure, my estimation of Senator Burr was clouded by his voting record.  Mitch McConnell had a reliable Yea or Nay in the senior Senator from North Carolina.  But still, he seemed willing to investigate the President's Russia ties - and if you start investigating anything to do with Donald Trump, ain't no way it's going to come up smelling like roses.

So I was staggered to learn, from this morning's NPR newscast, that Mr. Burr had given a very realistic appraisal of the risks of a coronavirus pandemic to a handful of well-heeled contributors - mainly corporate types - who shared lunch with him on February 27.  A date when the Senator was saying absolutely nothing similar to the millions of ordinary North Carolinians who weren't members of the "North Carolina State Society" - but who were his constituents.

My immediate thought was, "He should resign."

Then I looked to see who happened to be the Governor of North Carolina - the person who would appoint someone to replace Mr. Burr, if he resigned.   Turns out it's Roy Cooper, a Democrat.  I quickly amended my thought to, "He must resign."

Now, to be sure, under North Carolina law, Governor Cooper is obligated to appoint someone who is of the same party as the vacating Senator.  So he couldn't appoint a Democrat.

But surely, there is, somewhere in the vastness of North Carolina - a state noted for independent-minded men and women - a Republican who holds as low an opinion of Donald Trump and Mitch McConnell as do other right-thinking Americans.

A Republican who would be willing to fill out the span between now November 3 denying Mitch McConnell - and the Stable Genius in the White House - a reliable vote for things like:  giveaways to corporations under the guise of doing something about the pandemic; wall-building as a way of keeping out viruses that are already here; and, most of all, nominees to the Federal judiciary.

All of which led me to this inevitable conclusion:  The Democratic presidential primary is over.  It's gonna be Joe Biden, and whomever he chooses for Vice-President - unless the Democratic Party insists he include someone else in the decision-making process.

But the Senate is going to spend the next seven-and-a-half months dealing with one of the biggest natural disasters in American history - and we need to be sure it does so in the interests of the citizens, not just the big donor class.

So, to me, the answer was obvious.  We should take our frustrated political energies and start demanding that Senator Burr resign.

Except, I knew that wouldn't happen.  Leaking information to your rich buddies, while concealing it from the rest of your constituents, is contemptible, dishonorable, and just plain wrong.  But in the Age of Trump, it also seems pretty routine - and it's not technically illegal

So I wasn't sure about writing this piece, until this evening, when I went on that Search Engine We All Hate to check my facts about Mr. Burr of North Carolina, and read that he and his wife had also dumped between a half-million and one-and-a-half-million dollars worth of stock two weeks before he told his rich buddies the frightening truth about the coronavirus.

Which certainly stinks.  And might just be illegal.

This new revelation made up my mind for me.  Burr must go.  We must all demand it.  We'll leave it to Governor Cooper to play Diogenes, looking for an honest Republican in North Carolina to fill Burr's seat until a special election can be held.

No harm if he takes a while making his choice.  No harm at all.

But Burr must resign.  Now.

So write a letter, and lick a stamp.  On second though, use a sponge.

You don't know where that stamp has been.

Tuesday, March 10, 2020

Who Chooses the Veep?


The unexamined life is not worth living.  
                                              - Socrates

Sometimes, the most consequential things in life go unexamined.  In the last century of American political history, one matter of high consequence is the unchallenged assumption that the newly-minted presidential nominee of a major party has the unfettered privilege of choosing his - so far, it has always been his - running-mate.

When you think about it, this makes no sense.  While some modern Presidents have chosen to make use of their Vice-Presidents, the truth is that - while the President has a pulse - a Vice-President's main function is ceremonial.  A Vice-President presides over the Senate, unless he is elsewhere, in which case some member of the Senate - nominally, the President Pro Tem, but any member of the majority party will do - fills in. 

Otherwise, the Vice-President is available to meet dignitaries, donors, and Girl Scout troops the President can't fit into his schedule; make speeches to groups the President doesn't need to address; cut ribbons; dedicate things; and attend funerals.

The Vice-President is also available for assignment to major Federal undertakings from which the President would rather distance himself - most often, undertakings with a substantial risk of failure.  As of this writing, for example, Vice-President Mike Pence has been tasked with heading up - in some vague way - the Federal effort to address the novel corona-virus pandemic.

In naming Pence, President Trump has signalled that he, at least vaguely, understands that his administration has badly fumbled its early response.  By losing about two months, the administration has virtually assured that more Americans will be infected, that critical public and private institutions will be more badly disrupted, and that - simply stated - more of us will die than would have happened had our "leader" done his job properly.

But with Pence on the job, Mr. Trump will, to an extent, be able to deflect the blame onto his understudy.  Should things go very badly, Mr. Trump will have a perfect excuse for dumping Mr. Pence in favor of a running-mate - perhaps Nikki Haley - who gives him a better chance of re-election.  Should things go well, Pence will be pushed into the shadows while Trump claims credit.

All of which is to say that Vice-Presidents do have some uses while a President is alive.

But the main function of every Vice-President is to be available to take over if the President dies - which, when you think about it - leads to this curious conclusion:

Of all the people who might have a say in the choice of a presidential candidate's running-mate, the one person certain to be least impacted - if that choice turns out to be consequential - is the person making it.

Because that person will no longer be among the living.

The year 2020 raises the question of the choice of running-mates to an altogether new level of immediacy.  Of the two remaining, viable candidates for the Democratic nomination, the younger - Joe Biden - is 77 years old.  Without going into the question of Biden's mental fitness for the Presidency, the basic fact is that - should he be elected - Biden would take office at the age of 78.  This raises three possible scenarios for a Biden presidency.

It's hardly unimaginable that a man of Biden's age would die in office - or become manifestly unfit to perform his duties - in which case, his Vice-President would become our President.

An equally likely scenario is that Biden would serve out his first term - even if his physical or mental health had rendered him unfit - shielded by the massive protective machinery which surrounds every President.  In such a case, he would almost certainly not run for re-election, but his Vice-President would have an enormous - probably insurmountable - head start in the race to succeed him.

Even should Biden weather his first term intact and decide to seek a second term at the age of 81, he would almost certainly be challenged for renomination and forced to retire.  Again, his Vice-President would be the presumptive nominee of the party.  Any challenger would face an uphill battle against an entrenched party establishment.

Should Bernie Sanders engineer a surprise comeback and seize the 2020 nomination from Biden, he would start his Presidency at 78, facing the same three scenarios in a somewhat modified order of probability.

But in either case, this July, if not before, one old, white man will get to choose - without recourse - a person who is very likely to become his successor as our President.

Upon examination, this makes absolutely no sense.  The trouble is, we don't examine it.  Americans will get into a quadrennial stew about the undemocratic character of the Electoral College, but few question that fact that several modern presidents have been chosen by one man, sitting in a hotel room with a few key advisers.

After today's primaries, it seems highly likely that the Democratic contest for the presidency will be ending its final phase.  An elderly man - chosen largely because of his bland inoffensiveness - will be on the way to an election which seems every day more probable because of the manifest incompetence of the incumbent in an hour of crisis.

That elderly man - whose very prominence was the result of another man's solitary choice twelve years ago - will, in four month's time, have the freedom to nominate someone who will very likely become President as his designated or elected successor.

Americans have just gone through the year-long, extraordinarily expensive, and intermittently entertaining process of choosing a Democratic nominee for president.  Millions of us have contributed to our chosen candidate, attended rallies, or worked as volunteers in this effort.  Millions more have watched some of the endless series of debates, or otherwise researched the candidates on-line, or through other media.

That none of us should have any say in choosing another probable president - that one old man should soon make that choice for us - seems too absurd for words.

The Democratic National Committee has the power to change this, by providing a mechanism which gives its convention some say in the choice of vice-president.  Democrats - regardless of which candidate they have supported or now support - should insist that the DNC take this long overdue step.

We should demand that they do this.

Monday, January 13, 2020

The Highest Priority (It's Not Beating Trump)


As the Democratic caucuses and primaries approach, Americans concerned with ending the current, reactionary regime in Washington must engage in some serious strategic thinking.  And one thing they must come to terms with is this:  Defeating Donald Trump is not the most important thing that can happen in 2020.

Yes, Donald Trump is a loathsome human being.  He is also - which is a different thing - a terrible president.  He manifestly deserves to be defeated in 2020 - ideally by someone whom he cannot stomach losing to.  Ideally by such an overwhelming popular and electoral margin that he refuses even to show up to witness his successor being sworn in.

Or the size of the crowd assembled for that glad day.

But there are two things more important than ending the Trump presidency.  First, we must elect a clear majority of Democrats and/or progressive independents to the US Senate, thus ending the reign of Majority Leader Mitch McConnell.  Second, we must elect a new President who will not be vulnerable to defeat in 2024 by a Republican even worse than Donald Trump.

Keeping these two objectives in mind will likely be too much for some institutional Democrats.  Since its founding, by Andrew Jackson - just years after the final exile of Napoleon Bonaparte - the Democratic Party has always had a profound institutional bias toward heroic presidential leadership, the politics of the "man on a horse".  As a result, Democrats tend to ignore "down-ticket" elections - a fact which has often allowed Republicans to gain more national and state legislative seats than they should, with often dire results.

Moreover, institutional Democrats - being institutionalists - tend to worry only about the next election, rather than the long arc of historical change.  Most of the time, this is understandable.  Parties are, after all, organizations designed to win elections.  But parties are not as evolved as, say, professional sports teams.  Parties have a hard time thinking about "building years".  They should learn.

At times, there are actually things worse than losing a particular presidential election - even the one that happens this year.

Now, I assume I won't have to belabor my first point.  Anyone familiar with recent history will understand - if not absolutely agree with - the argument that Mitch McConnell is actually more dangerous than Donald Trump.  McConnell's management of judicial appointments, by itself, has drastically altered the constitutional scheme the Founders had in mind - denying a sitting President the right to name a Supreme Court justice, and later ramming through the confirmation of a Justice almost absurdly lacking in judicial demeanor, to say nothing of basic integrity.

McConnell's control over budgets, legislation - even the trial phase of the impeachment process - has been equally malign.

Imagine any Democrat moving into the Oval Office next January - with Mitch McConnell still commanding a majority of the Senate.  You will find it difficult to imagine how that new President would be able to accomplish much - legislatively, or even in terms of naming judges.  Mitch McConnell - once a man of some principle - has become the living embodiment of the truth that great power corrupts.  Donald Trump can have, at most, one more term in office.  Mitch McConnell could go on running the Senate for another ten or twelve years.

Ending McConnell's tyranny - by reducing the Republicans to minority status in the Senate - is, for me, Job One.

My second argument may require more consideration.  Donald Trump is so bad - so historically dreadful as President - that it is difficult to imagine that anyone worse could be elected.

But consider the state of today's Republican Party.

Under the terror inspired by Trump, the Republican Party has become, essentially, a cult of personality.  We'd all like to think that defeating Trump would be the equivalent of Dorothy's throwing the bucket of water over the Wicked Witch of the West - that all of the Senators, Congressmen, governors, state legislators, opinion writers, talking heads, and others Trump holds in thrall - would be suddenly and gratefully liberated by his demise.

I suspect the opposite would be true.  One effect of the Trump era has been his purge of what few moderates and principled conservatives the Republican Party still had in office.  Over the past three years, dozens of Senators and Congressmen have decided not to seek re-election.  Those who have hung on have had their spirits broken, their honor stolen. 

What remains of the once presidential Mitt Romney?  What haunting - if easily-imagined - secret has converted Lindsey Graham from the principled legal thinker and shield-bearer to John McCain, to the fawning lick-spittle he has become?

In imagining future Republican candidates - at least for the next few election cycles - we must imagine that they will be creatures of Trump's malign influence.  In the long run, this will likely spell the doom of the Republican Party, but so long as Trump's influence lasts, it also means that future Republican candidates will be cast in his mold.

What if, in 2024, one of these Trump acolytes should win?

The danger is that the next Republican candidate - perhaps one of Trump's own children - will be far more competent than this President.  Trump is, after all, seriously deficient in the qualities that make for an effective dictator.  Aside from his ruthless efficiency in purging the Party of those who defy him, he has proved appallingly ignorant of domestic and foreign affairs; thin-skinned, cowardly and vacillating when criticized; easily-distracted and lazy in carrying out the duties of his office.  He is an aging child, more willful than intelligent, and likely in the early stages of senescence, if not some form of dementia.

It is not hard to imagine a future right-wing populist President who is younger; smarter; better informed; more energetic; more capable of assembling and working with a team; braver; and more resolute than the overgrown child now in the Oval Office. 

And, as that is true, we must understand that defeating Donald Trump will mean little if we do so by electing a President who will be vulnerable to defeat in 2024 - by a new, horribly improved Trump 2.0.

Thus, if ousting Mitch McConnell is Job One, beating Trump by electing a President capable of initiating several consecutive terms of progressive leadership is Job Two.

****

The time to start thinking strategically is now upon us.  The Democratic field is rapidly narrowing.  There appear to be four - at most five - viable options left.  Americans who want to bring the present horror-show to an end must consider, with great care, which candidate will be most likely to help elect a Democratic Senate majority; and most able to create an administrative and legislative record worthy of re-election in 2024; and most successful in passing the torch to another progressive President to succeed her/him.

Defeating Donald Trump will be a daunting task.  But, t'would be great pity, so it would, to do all the work necessary to bring this tyrant down - while leaving undone that which would assure that the entire, distorted movement which he represents falls with him.