So One Hologram Says to the Other….

My son Stephen is home for the Thanksgiving weekend, and last night the three of us watched one of the shows in Nova’s “Fabric of the Cosmos” series. This one explored the nature of space–which is not “nothingness” as we might imagine.

These Nova productions do a great job of simplifying complex science, drawing analogies to things we understand. That said, by the time the show concluded, my head hurt.

I had no idea that black holes–in addition to squashing everything that has the misfortune to get swept up within their immense density–keep copies of what they crush on their “outside.” (Whatever the outside of a black hole is.) Nor had I encountered the theory that our world might consist of holographic images of those images.

Does your head hurt yet?

I may not have learned much about physics from this particular explanation, but it did illustrate, once again, the immense gulf between what I know and what science has discovered. And that makes me wonder–again–about the processes we use to make policy in this country.

If I were a lawmaker, and I was being asked to vote upon a measure to fund a particular scientific inquiry, how would I evaluate the merits of the project? What if I was being asked to ban a certain line of experimentation? And even if I had access to excellent advice, how would I justify my vote–whatever it was–to those who elected me?

When Texas was a potential site for the Hadron Collider, there was a frenzy of fear that it would create a black hole that would swallow the Earth. It was subsequently built in Switzerland, began operations recently, and thus far, at least, we’re still here. Or at least our holographic images…

I really don’t want to turn policymaking over to the technocrats and nerds, but I also don’t think Joe and Jane Sixpack and I are equipped to make a lot of the decisions that we collectively need to make.

As the world gets more and more complicated, we need to think carefully about the level of knowledge we need to make good policy, and how we might keep decision-making both democratic and informed.

Unfortunately, this hologram has no idea how to do that.

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Thanksgiving

For so many of us who are fortunate, Thanksgiving highlights a persistent irony of our lives: while there is injustice and suffering around us, our own lives are full and rewarding.

I’m Jewish, so this creates a considerable measure of guilt. I’m well aware that I’m no more deserving of my good fortune than my friend who lost a job or a husband or a child deserves that fate. So much of life is simply luck of the draw.

The least I can do–the least any of us can do–is cultivate humility and gratitude in the face of our blessings.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, because it gives us an opportunity to step outside our daily routines and appreciate what we have. In my case, that includes a wonderful spouse who has put up with me for many years, children and stepchildren who are loving and interesting and accomplished people who give back to their communities, and (of course!) perfect, beautiful, wonderful grandchildren. Add good health and a job that’s rewarding, and I count myself among the luckiest women around.

A friend I admire greatly is fond of saying “From those to whom much has been given, much is expected.” I think about that, and about the Talmudic injunction to the effect that, while God doesn’t expect us to perfect the world in one generation, we aren’t free not to try.

In a moral universe, those of us who have so much to be thankful for have an obligation to those less fortunate. We may disagree about the shape/nature of that obligation, but when we ignore it, we end up with shriveled souls.

Happy Thanksgiving!

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Too Complicated for Democracy?

A breakfast discussion this morning about the Indiana Legislature and “Right to Work” reinforced a concern I’ve harbored.

For years, when I heard discussions about “Right to Work,” it seemed obvious to me that everyone should have the right to work without being forced to join a union. That, after all, was the way the issue was framed, and I was totally unaware that the reality was more complicated. Once I understood the issue more fully, I changed my policy preference.

The problem is, more and more issues are like Right to Work. No matter how simple the framing, the policies themselves require more in-depth knowledge in order to genuinely understand what is at stake. Formulations that compare decisions about the national budget to those you make for your own household, “Dirty Harry” approaches to criminal justice, “we just need to deport illegal immigrants” simplifications and numerous other “everyone knows” “it’s just common sense” approaches to government decision-making are simple, deceptively appealing, and usually (but not always) wrong.

The question is: how well can democracy work when even the most diligent voter (and how many of those are there?) is unlikely to be informed about the complexities of the policies being proposed by candidates?  How can we citizens make good decisions in an increasingly complex world?

I don’t have the answer to that question. But in a complicated world, a measure of humility would seem to be in order. At the very least, voters should cultivate a healthy suspicion of candidates displaying too much certitude–candidates who tell us the problems are simple. And we should run like hell from the ones who profess to have all the answers.

Tea and Sympathy

A number of commentators have compared the Occupy movement with the Tea Party. Although there are some similarities–mainly frustration with the status quo and anger at the political system–those comparisons ultimately fail.

The Tea Party–to judge by its spokespersons, placards and photos of meetings–is a profoundly reactionary movement. Its slogan is “I Want My Country Back,” and there hasn’t been much subtlety about the identity of those from whom they want it “back.” Viewed through a Tea Party lens, some people are more American than others.

The Occupy movement’s slogan is equally telling. “We are the 99 percent” is both an affirmation of how Occupiers see themselves and an expression of solidarity with the broad majority of Americans of all kinds.

Those who see the Occupy movement as a repeat of the Sixties miss an essential difference. As E.J. Dionne pointed out in a recent column,”The protests of that era were rooted in affluence. Too often in those years, the left cut itself off from the concerns of the white working class and disdained its values. That’s the history the right wants to revive. In fact, the Occupy demonstrations are precisely about the concerns of Americans who have been sidelined economically. This in turn is why polls show broad support for Occupy’s objectives of greater economic equality and more financial accountability.”

The response of the peaceful students who were pepper-sprayed at UC Davis was instructive. As numerous You Tube videos plainly showed, the students responded to unwarranted brutality by linking arms and remaining seated, despite the obvious pain they were experiencing. These were not Weathermen; they were earnest young people protesting a system that has been corrupted by  the haves–a system that now protects status and wealth at the expense of the poor and (dwindling) middle-class.

Whenever there is a “movement,” there are unhinged hangers-on, and neither the Tea Party nor Occupy should be judged by their fringes. That said, their common frustration with the status quo should not blind us to the very significant differences between them.

Nostalgia for a highly idealized past and a palpable resentment of “others” animates the Tea Party; sympathy and a demand for social justice motivates the Occupiers.

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As the Newt Turns

It has been very painful watching the Republican Presidential field, for many reasons. First, of course, is the sheer amazement that this group of goofballs could be taken seriously as candidates for any political office, let alone the highest office in the land. But beyond that, there’s been the nagging question whether they are really as uninformed as they seem, or whether they are pandering to a base devoid of civic and scientific literacy. The question is: are they intellectually or morally vacuous?

The answer is pretty clear when you talk about Michelle Bachmann or Herman Cain. They’re delusional and none too bright. You can’t really blame them–their rise, such as it is, is entirely the fault of the people who actually support them.

But what can we say about the flavor of the day, Newt Gingrich?

Gingrich recently spoke to a Christian Right group in Iowa, and bemoaned what he characterized as an effort to make America a “secular” country. This is a man who taught history at the college level, a man who–however morally sleazy–is acknowledged to be highly intelligent. This is, in short, a man who clearly knows that he’s spouting utter nonsense.

The American constitution is a wholly secular document–not because the Founders were “anti-religion” (although many of them would certainly be considered anti-Christian by today’s religious zealots–Jefferson wrote a bible that excised all references to deity, and Adams felt that attributing divinity to Jesus was “an awful blasphemy” ), but because they believed that government and religion didn’t mix.

Whether one agrees or not with America’s decidedly secular foundation is not the point. The point is that any historian worth the name is aware of the facts of our founding, the attitudes of our Founders, and the decidedly non-religious nature of our legal system. Newt’s speech can only be understood as a breathtaking willingness to pander. Granted, no one who has watched him over the years could mistake him for a moral/ethical being, but even so, this degree of smarminess is breathtaking.

And I thought no one could out-pander Mitt…..

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