Two profoundly depressing examples of implicit bias–not to mention the deficits of today’s media–were on display in Indianapolis last week.
The first–and arguably most embarrassing–occured when Ben Carson endorsed Donald Trump; Fox 59 showed a picture of Trump with a photograph of Indianapolis Democratic African-American Representative Andre Carson superimposed.
Because all of “them” look alike?
And how oblivious to the political environment they cover did the newsroom have to be in order to confuse a black Democrat who happens to be one of two Muslims serving in the U.S. House with a sycophantic joke of a presidential candidate? Did they really think Andre Carson would have endorsed a xenophobe who wants to bar Muslims from the country?
Equally discouraging, if not as inexplicable, was the early reporting about a shooting involving an IFD officer. According to later, corrected reports, Michael “Kevin” Gill, a veteran of the Indianapolis Fire Department, was shot outside a house and ran into a nearby mosque seeking help.
Earlier, “breaking news” had reported that Gill was shot inside the mosque. (The definition of prejudice is to “pre-judge”…).
Tribalism–and its exploitation by demagogues seeking political power– is creating a meaner, more dangerous America.
The Washington Post recently reported on correspondence raising an issue that members of the U.S. Senate should respect, but probably won’t.
A letter was sent by ecologists and climate scientists and was endorsed by 65 other researchers, including a number of leaders of forest science, and by several scientific societies, and pointed out that pending bipartisan (!) energy legislation includes claims that burning trees for energy is carbon neutral–a claim that is scientifically incorrect.
“Legislating scientific facts is never a good idea, but is especially bad when the ‘facts’ are incorrect,” say the researchers, led by Phil Duffy, president of the Woods Hole Research Center. “We urge you and other members of the Senate to reconsider this well-intentioned legislation and eliminate the misrepresentation that forest bioenergy is carbon-neutral.”
The amendment in question was introduced by Sen. Susan Collins of Maine; it has seven cosponsors and urges leaders of the federal government to act in ways that “reflect the carbon neutrality of forest bioenergy and recognize biomass as a renewable energy source.”
Shortly after its passage, a press release by Collins hailed the amendment, which, she said, would “help ensure that federal policies for the use of renewable biomass are clear, simple, and reflect the importance of biomass for our energy future.” The release noted the support of groups including the American Forest and Paper Association and the American Wood Council.
The argument for carbon neutrality–which sounds reasonable–is that, although burning trees emit carbon, trees grow back and when they do, they sequester carbon, making the process neutral.
A key problem, say the scientists, is that it takes a long time for trees to grow back after they’re cut down — and a lot can happen in that span of time.
Here’s the real issue: We elect lawmakers to make policy determinations—determinations that inevitably involve tradeoffs. Those tradeoffs may prove to have been unwise, or based upon faulty information, but that’s the nature of the job.
We don’t, however, elect people to legislate scientific fact. (Indiana’s legislature is still the butt of jokes from a century-old effort to change the value of pi.) It may seem like a picky quibble when Congress is doing so much other damage (Yuuge damage), but when lawmakers triumphantly “demonstrate” the falsity of climate change by throwing snowballs in the Senate chambers, it’s important.
There is a difference between language claiming that a policy choice is being made based upon scientific consensus, or upon careful consideration of contending scientific opinions, and language that characterizes a conclusion as scientific “fact” And it’s an important difference.
In an era where presidential candidates routinely make colossally untrue statements, when Indiana’s governor can tamper with an “independent” report in order to reflect more desirable “factual” findings, when Michigan’s governor can tell Flint’s citizens that he can assess water quality, you might argue that the mere existence of a bipartisan bill recognizing the importance of cutting carbon emissions should be considered a huge win. I get that.
But I think the real lesson is that respecting the distinction between fact and opinion is for that very reason more important than ever.
More and more, I am reminded of that old adage that “it ain’t what you don’t know that hurts you, it’s what you know that just ain’t so.”
A recent research paper from the Brookings Institution investigated one of those “things we know,” and came to some disquieting conclusions.
When it comes to staying in school, many economists talk about the “aspirational effects” of income inequality. When students look around them and see a better life, they are incentivized to invest in their own human capital—such as investing in their own education.
But what if that conventional thinking is wrong? What if inequality doesn’t incentivize students at the bottom of the income ladder to work harder, but rather disincentivizes them? This is one of the questions Melissa S. Kearney and Phillip B. Levine sought to answer in a new paper published as part of the Spring 2016 Brookings Papers on Economic Activity.
Among other things, Kearney and Levine found that low-income children growing up in states that have greater income inequality are dropping out of high school at higher rates than are children living in states with less income inequality.
The authors point to a concept they call “economic despair,” or a feeling that economic success is unlikely because the distance from the bottom to the middle of the ladder is too far to climb. If a student perceives a lower benefit to remaining in school, then he or she will choose to drop out—even if they aren’t struggling academically.
What is particularly interesting about this study is that it focused upon the perceived distance between the bottom and the middle of the income distribution—not the distance between the bottom and the top. The idea is that what they call “lower tail” inequality is a more relevant measure, because—although the top may realistically seem to be out of reach—making it to the middle would seem to be a more manageable goal.
The authors suggest interventions: mentoring programs that connect youth with successful adults, programs focused on establishing high expectations and pathways to graduation, or early-childhood parenting programs to build self-esteem and engender positive behaviors. Although such interventions might help ameliorate the problem, it’s hard to escape the conclusion that the effects would be modest, at best.
In fact, this study is one more “data point” in a picture that increasingly points to an inescapable conclusion: the level of inequality in America today is unsustainable and extremely detrimental, not just to the prospects of poor children, but to the nation as a whole.
We are in the midst of an election season that has unleashed a furious and troubling display of social dysfunction, in-your-face bigotry and populist anger. It’s hard not to attribute a significant part of that to economic realities that pit low-wage workers against each other and against a perceived plutocracy that has “rigged the system.”
Social scientists tell us that stable democracies are characterized by distributional equity, and the existence of a large and relatively secure middle class. Economists tell us that economic growth requires robust demand, generated by consumers with discretionary dollars to spend in the market, and a well-educated workforce.
When large numbers of people working 40 hours a week cannot earn enough to cover basic living expenses, when children don’t believe education offers them a path out of subsistence, democracy and the economy both suffer.
It’s past time to revisit some of the economic “facts” we think we know.
A recent polling “primer” intended for journalists has some useful cautions for all of us being inundated with reports about the “latest polling results” in this weird campaign season.
We are always (usefully) reminded that even the best polls are but a snapshot of public opinion at the time the poll is fielded, so results depend upon what voters have heard and seen at that particular time. Subsequent campaigning can–and more often than not, does–change those perceptions.
It also should not be news that some polls are more equal than others: good polls are expensive, and a lot of what’s out there is at best unreliable and at worst, garbage. Composition and size of the respondent pool (the sample), design of the questions and a number of other flaws can make some surveys worse than useless.
But in addition to those standard cautions, recent changes in communications and the willingness of the public to answer questions cast further doubt on the accuracy of even the better-designed polls.
It should go without saying that “click on our link and tell us what you think” internet polls are worthless.
The increased use of mobile phones, especially, has challenged polling operations. That’s particularly true because there are significant differences in the populations that use cell phones and those who continue to keep their landlines, posing a huge challenge for the algorithms pollsters use to compensate for inability to reach mobile devices.
Further compounding the problem, the number of people willing to talk to a pollster when they are contacted has steadily declined; some estimates are that a mere 5% of those who answer their phones are willing to answer survey questions. Even if the number in the sample is increased in an effort to compensate, it is highly likely that the people who are willing to talk differ in some relevant ways from those who aren’t.
We saw the consequences of all this recently in the Michigan Democratic primary. The best polling has come a long way since “Dewey Beats Truman”–but most of what earns headlines isn’t the best polling.
The troubling aspect of this is that even garbage polls have the ability to affect people’s perceptions and ultimately, to affect election results.
This will be my final post about my personal odyssey with the fine folks at Anthem. It will be brief, just to update those of you who’ve been so kind with your suggestions and good wishes.
You will be happy to know that Anthem has made medical school unnecessary.
Yep–when they finally returned the multiple calls from the hospital doctors, and those doctors had once again gone through the charts, the X rays, the reports from in-hospital PT, etc., they were told that according to Anthem’s algorithm, I am not a candidate for rehab.
Their algorithm, you see, knows more about my condition and needs than the medical personnelwho actually examined and treated me.
As one doctor said, “why did I waste all that time in medical school?”
I’m going home. My younger grandchildren will come over to help my husband with my care, at least for a couple of days, and we’ll figure it all out. (As those of you who know me know, I’m a tough old bird.) But everyone in this situation–as you can see from the multitude of comments here on the blog and on Facebook–isn’t as fortunate as I am, doesn’t have a support network that can step in. And according to the doctors and caseworker, I am far, far from the only person facing this bureaucratic malpractice. And I will follow up on several of your recommendations for filing complaints, etc., in hopes that I can keep at least some others from going through a similar fiasco.
The United States is the only developed country in the world that has chosen to socialize its medical care through the insurance industry.
I asked one of the doctors if they have these same problems with Medicare. They don’t.
For now, this blog will return to its originally-scheduled programming.
