Tag Archives: politics

Sociological Whiplash

Yesterday’s New York Times Magazine was devoted to innovation. It had a story about Craig Ventner, who sequenced the human genome and is working on producing artificial life–including bacteria that will excrete a substitute for oil. It had a story about inventions poised to come on the market–a fabric that can charge your cellphone, a car with cruise control that automatically maintains a set distance between you and the car in front of you, a bike with anti-theft handlebars, synthetic alcohol (on Star Trek, that was called synthahol!), vastly improved resolution for movies,a blood test for depression… My favorite was a breakthrough that would substitute an edible “shell” for food packaging. For example, your yogurt might come in a shell of strawberry you could eat, rather than another carton to clutter our landfills.

The whole issue was a tribute to human ingenuity and smarts–to our ability to understand our world and its building blocks and to confront our challenges big and small.

And then there’s our politics. If America is producing savvy scientists and remarkable technologies–and we are–we are also electing embarrassing buffoons who are doing their best to return us to that state of nature known as “ignorant.”

There are so many examples, choosing one was hard, but let me try. This week, North Carolina lawmakers proposed a new law that would require estimates of sea level rise to be based only on historical data—not on all the evidence that demonstrates that the seas are rising much faster now thanks to global warming. The sea level along the coast of North Carolina is expected to rise about a meter by the end of the century. Business interests in the state are worried that the projected rise will make it harder for them to develop along the coast line. So legislators plan to deal with that issue by writing a law requiring inaccurate projections.

Scott Huler, who works for Scientific American and lives in North Carolina, summed up this brilliant approach thusly:

Which, yes, is exactly like saying, do not predict tomorrow’s weather based on radar images of a hurricane swirling offshore, moving west towards us with 60-mph winds and ten inches of rain. Predict the weather based on the last two weeks of fair weather with gentle breezes towards the east. Don’t use radar and barometers; use the Farmer’s Almanac and what grandpa remembers.

In this corner, the brilliant minds that gave you your computer and IPhone. In that corner, the champions of denial and short-term gratification. The existential questions: can the smart guys save us from the idiots we elect?  And figure out why we elect them?

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Telos

Remember the old song, “What’s it all about, Alfie?”

The past few weeks have brought more than a few reminders that aging is inexorable and death inevitable. There have been two family funerals, and–on the brighter side–last night there was a surprise party for an old friend who was turning 70 (a milestone I passed several months ago).  These reminders of mortality have reminded me of life’s essential questions, which–when you think about it–boil down to “what do I want to have accomplished during my life?” “What do I want people to remember about me?” and “What’s it all about?”

I’m not sure I can answer those questions affirmatively, but I can list the things that won’t matter when I’m dead: how much money I made, whether I was briefly famous (and all fame is brief!), whether I held a position others thought made me important, whether I triumphed over people I disliked.  At the end of the day–at the end of all our days–I think most of us want to leave a world that is at least marginally better because we lived in it. We want to leave people who will miss us because our existence added something positive to their lives.

I’ve long since accepted the fact that my life goals are not necessarily shared by others, but I still wonder what sorts of legacies some of our captains of industry and political figures think they will leave. Do the bankers whose recklessness cost so many people their homes and jobs, the political operatives who approach campaigns like games to be won by propaganda and spin, the public officials who are more concerned with the next election than the with the common good, the ruthless corporate titans lobbying for special treatment…do they ever consider whether that is how they want to be remembered when the inevitable end comes?

The word telos–if I remember correctly–is from the Greek. It translates, roughly, to “end” “purpose” or “life goal.” It’s hard not to wonder what telos motivates some of today’s more disreputable “movers and shakers”–and whether any of them ever wonder “what it’s all about.”

New Year’s Resolutions

I’m not sure what it is in the human psyche that impels us to see the New Year as a new start–and to make resolutions to behave in certain ways, to turn over new leaves, to focus–yet again!–on self-improvement. But whatever the reason, most of us do take this opportunity to do some navel-gazing, followed by some promises to ourselves.

In that time-honored tradition, here are my “good intentions” for the New Year.

1) I resolve to be more environmentally conscious. Maybe one person can’t make much of a dent in the waste that’s choking our landfills, or the energy use that contributes to global warming, but an ethical approach to the planet we share has to start with each of us.

2) I resolve to be a good capitalist–by which I mean navigating the wealth of choices that a market economy produces in order to patronize establishments that deserve my business. In a free country, Chik-fil-a has the right to support anti-gay causes, and I have the right to eat elsewhere. I can choose not to deposit my   money in the banks that played fast and loose with our economic system and to take my (admittedly insignificant) funds to a local bank instead. In our wired world, it is relatively simple to assess the ethics of the large corporations competing for our dollars, and to spend our dollars in ways that reward good behavior. Capitalism lets me put my money where my mouth is.

3) I resolve to continue working through the political system to support good candidates for office–defined as people who understand our constitutional system and are prepared to work within it, who support evidence-based policymaking, and who are both intelligent and thoughtful. Granted, such candidates have become rare, so in a pinch, I’ll support the people who are pandering to the people who are least scary. Bottom line–just because our politics have become toxic and our politicians venal and/or ignorant will not be an excuse to turn my back on the process.

Will any of this make the world a better place? Probably not. But I’ll feel better.

Oh–and I resolve to lose weight. Again.

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I Don’t Get It

There’s a pretty robust public debate–in which I’ve engaged–about the refusal of congressional Republicans to even consider raising taxes on the wealthiest Americans. That debate has centered around the practicality and morality of their position: practically, government needs the revenue that would be raised by what would historically be considered a very minimal raise in the rate; morally, it seems truly wrong to demand yet more sacrifice from the beleaguered middle class while giving the rich a pass.

That debate is worth having, but what I don’t get is the politics of the position.

I understand that the people who fund GOP campaigns–the Kochs, the Scaifs, etc.–look favorably upon the Republican position. And I understand that money matters (far more than it should or than it used to, thanks to Citizens United). But I can’t believe that a political party can win a national election on a platform that advocates hollowing out the public purposes of government–“starving the beast” is the way Grover Norquist puts it–in order to protect the pocket-change of the powerful.

Leave aside whether the GOP position makes any economic or moral sense. I can’t imagine it making political sense. You can rename plutocrats “job creators” all you want, but it is pretty clear that they aren’t creating any jobs (at least not here in the US), and without that rather thin defensive reed to lean on, it is hard to envision any but the most ideologically rigid buying that snake-oil.

What am I missing?

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Harder than It Looks

This morning, an acquaintance told me he’d recently been on the downtown Canal, and immediately thought of this post, in which I had bemoaned the city’s neglect of this important urban amenity. He was appalled–as we all should be.

That brief conversation made me ponder the current state of affairs in Indianapolis, and the importance–and difficulty–of civic leadership.

When Greg Ballard ran for Mayor, he talked a lot about leadership. Why, he’d written a (self-published) book about it! If elected, he would reduce crime, put more police on the streets, and reduce the budget. How hard could it be?

Reality is so messy and disappointing. It turns out that managing a city is significantly more complicated than giving orders to subordinates in a military unit. Not only do you have to deal with people elected to the City-County Council, who don’t think their job is to carry out your orders, you have to understand the inter-relationships of municipal issues and departments, and budget for a variety of services that are required by law or political necessity and constrained by reduced revenues. When Ballard ran, he displayed the sort of hubris that motivates citizens to write letters to the editor expressing amazement that elected officials can’t seem to grasp how simple the answer to climate change, gas prices, public safety, or the national debt really is. Americans tend to be ambivalent about credentials: we want our doctor or lawyer or CPA to be well-trained, but we think any well-meaning citizen has what it takes to run a city.

So three-and-a-half years later, we have a higher crime rate, fewer police on the streets, and no reduction in municipal expenditures. We are fixing streets and sidewalks with dollars “borrowed” from future utilities ratepayers, and we’ve sold off our parking meters for fifty years, presumably because the city is incapable of managing that infrastructure. Important civic assets like the Canal are falling into disrepair, and Indianapolis’ once-sterling reputation as a City that Works has become a punch line.

I think Ballard is beginning to realize that running a city is harder than it looks.

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