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August 27, 2008

Four audiences, one show

So. National Political Party Conventions are strange things at this point in their evolution. As you watch them (or don’t, but if you don’t, then you can probably skip this note), one of the things that keeps coming up is the tension between the various audiences, and the various things that the Party wants from those various audiences. I would identify four different audiences with very little overlap, and with very little overlap in what the Party wants from them.

Let’s start with the two small audiences. One of those is the crowd in the hall itself, the conventioneers. They are largely there as props for the television audience. Yes, there are also some big donors there, and this crowd has a lot to do in GOTV and other local parts of the campaign, but most of these people would do most of that stuff anyway. They are activists. They do politics either for a living or as a hobby. The Party does need them, but the Party generally has them, and as long as they don’t screw it up, it’ll be fine. On the other hand, when the speakers make their speeches, the crowd is vitally important. Not only does an enthusiastic and attentive crowd look and sound good on television, they give back energy to the speaker. When you watch the thing in your living room, you may not feel part of the connection between the speaker and the live audience, but you can (whether consciously as a critic or not) tell whether that connection is there. The conventioneers most important task is to cheer, to chant and to, er, something else that begins with a ch. Not choose, though.

The other important small audience is the press, mostly the people there at the hall. They have to be persuaded to tell a particular story of the convention. This time, for my party, it’s a particularly compelling story—will the Clinton and Obama wings of the party work together? Will Bill Clinton flip out and call Sen. Obama a ******* on live television? Will Sen. Obama pull a knife? Or will they all join hands and pledge to a cause that is bigger than any of them, the cause of America?

I’m being snarky, but actually, what the Party wants out of the press is not just to be a perfectly transparent window into the convention (which is not going to happen) but to frame and tint things in a way that is to the advantage of the Party. The press are largely sophisticated, educated and informed people, so if you are going to manipulate them, you usually need something shiny, or some barbecue. Tragically, they are as likely to eat the shiny thing and put the barbecue in their pockets as the other way around. But you have to try.

Then there’s the big audience that I’m in, the people who are going to vote for the Party’s nominee no matter what, and who are tuning in to be entertained and consoled. We’re looking to get a peek at next cycle’s candidates for one thing and another, and to get a peek at the campaign’s themes and signs and all, and we like to be told we’re right about our policies and prejudices. But it’s not going to affect our votes, because our votes are in the right place. This year, Sen. Obama’s campaign would like us all to donate twenty bucks or so, where because of an oddity in the law, that wasn’t very important in previous cycles. And it’s always nice if the Party can get us off our asses so we can make a few calls, too, but most of us aren’t going to do that, and it’s pretty unlikely that we are going to be persuaded to do it over the television, anyway. Really, the most important thing that the Party wants me to do, after watching the thing, is to talk to my co-workers and neighbors and friends about how wonderful it was, and how I’m going to vote for Barack Obama. I was going to vote for him anyway, but perhaps I wouldn’t have brought him up in conversation, or perhaps somebody else in the fourth audience will bring it up and I can say that it was a great speech and a great convention, and all.

That fourth audience is the group of people who have not yet made up their minds who to vote for, or whether to vote. In some ways, this is the most important audience, since the candidate that gets most of those voters will almost certainly win the election. On the other hand, very few of those voters are sitting down to watch the convention. Maybe they will sit down to pay attention to the Big Speech, or to two or even three Nearly Big Speeches by the vice-presidential nominee or the previous President. More likely, they will see a report on an evening newscast, or hear about it on the radio, or see a headline on an on-line portal page or even on a good old-fashioned newspaper. Or, with luck, they’ll talk about it with a coworker or neighbor or relative.

So. The Party, and each of the people within the Party (each of whom likely has his or her own separate sub-goal, an appointment or nomination or meeting or whatnot), have to work all four of those audiences simultaneously, largely all from the same podium, and their success with each group affects their success with some of the other groups. Any individual moment may be for one group or another; any individual moment may be attempting to work in different ways for different groups. When the action on the podium stops and the music starts blasting for the crowd to dance, that’s getting the crowd ready to cheer for the next speaker, and it’s also letting the networks cut to a commercial or chat with a pundit. Some of the scheduling is aimed at me, and some isn’t.

So when you are watching, and I’m guessing almost all of my Gentle Readers are in the third audience, those that have already made up their minds (unless any of y’all are still seriously considering voting for a third Party), it’s interesting to look at the things that are aimed at the other groups. The moments that are for the crowd, the ones that are for the press, the ones that are for the swing voters. In a way, ours is the least important audience. Unless I do my job and start some conversations.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

Democratic Convention, Tuesday

On Tuesday I missed the first three hours or so, alas. Here are the notes from the couple of hours I watched.

Janet Napolitano. Magenta Nehru jacket, black pants. Nehru jackets must be the thing. She’s giving the business about the AZ politicians who lose presidential races. "I wanted to say something positive tonight about Senator McCain." "He doesn’t understand the policies he has supported." "can’t afford more of the same" use of specific name, which doesn’t thrill me, but is one of the Accepted Political Speech bits. "Green-collar jobs" is a nice phrase though, and I think we’ll get it into the public discussion.

Town hall. Gov. Jennifer Granholm hosting. Better hair than Brown or whatever his name was. This panel is just as dopey as the other one, though. No back-and-forth, no discussion, just a prepared question and prepared speech. If you’re going to do that, just have them give speeches, and give up the stools and hand mikes. A. Cline over and rhetorica and I have been amusing ourselves coming up with the ground rules for the debate. Rule one: panelists may not speak to each other or look at each other. Rule two: panelists will be given the question in advance, and may give only the prepared and approved answer. Rule three: the Moderator will lead, or rather feed. With a great big spoon. Rule four: the debate will go on as long as the networks need to run ads or have their pundits blather about other things.

Jim Whitaker, Mayor of Fairbanks. Republican. Endorsing Barack Obama. "realistic and resulting wisdom"? I like his fifties necktie and brown suit. Suits him. Shifts and whims of the marketplace which are subject to shifts and whims of dictators.

Gloria Craven, described in the on-line schedule as "Laid-off North Carolina textile worker with huge medical bills" I was kinda figuring this would be bad, but it’s actually great: plain-talking woman, very matter-of-factly talking about how awful the Republicans are, and how the Democrats actually have different ideas and priorities. With a nice class hostility (although not hostile enough for me).

Nancy Floyd, energy tech money. Wasn’t paying much attention, I’m afraid.

Kathleen Sebelius, Gov. Kansas. Starts with Barack Obama’s Kansas roots. Ad astra per aspera, which is nice and the Kansas motto. Best Reader points out that she’s a good speaker, but she’s not having much fun. My Best Reader misses Ann Richards. Gov. Sebelius is very dull.

Federico Peña, former Mayor of Denver, former Sect’y of Energy. More energy coming in. Crowd still wandering around chatting. "America is on a liquid leash" Back to man on the moon.

Nydia Velazquez: Now, that’s a jacket. And emerald necklace? Jet? Jade? Awesome, whatever. She’s going after Sen. McCain. I’m glad tonight has shown a lot more willingness to go after McCain. It hasn’t coalesced into a clear caricature, though, which is what we need.

Robert Casey, Jr. Gov PA. A slight reference to his father’s refusal to endorse Bill Clinton in 1992, and the refusal to let him speak at the convention about his anti-abortion position. Just a slight reference, though, and no reference (yet) to his own anti-abortion stance. Pushing how comfortable Sen. Obama really is with working-class Pennsylvania voters. "He’s one of us." "Native son Joe Biden!" Now talking about Hillary Rodham Clinton in glowing terms. "When she endorsed Barack, she called on all of us to do whatever we can to get Barack Obama elected President of the United States." Another Abraham Lincoln reference. Now an explicit reference to his anti-abortion opinion, and saying outright that his present tonight shows blah blah blah. I suppose it’s a good thing for Sen. Obama, and he can scarcely get up there and say his dad was a prick.

Four more months! Four more months!

Lilly Ledbetter: Very serious looking. Jaw locked. She’s the one in Ledbetter v. Goodyear, where the Supreme Court shut down the rights of more people to use the courts for redress. She’s a good prop for pointing out that the Supreme Court, and thus the Presidency, is important. Bad delivery, though, and bad gesturing. The audience is good to her, though, and I don’t grudge her the time. I wonder if CNN or the others showed her at all.

Musical interlude: "I’m So Excited". There are many men in the crowd who know the words. To the verses. I’m just saying. And there were two bull-dykes who didn’t know the words even to the chorus but who waved their rainbow flags.

Mark Warner with the keynote: I took some separate notes so that I can write this up as an entry of its own. Maybe later today, or events may pass me.

Ted Strickland: Applause for Stephanie Tubbs-Jones. Then going into a speech of his own. kitchen table reference again. I like the kitchen table stuff. "more likely to lose a neighbor to foreclosure than to gain a neighbor with a mortgage" "John McCain is sleeping better than ever" Stuck in the past. I like stuck in the past. Particularly used as a modifying phrase: a stuck-in-the-past energy policy, etc. Started on third, stole second. Instead of some starting on third, giving everybody a chance at bat.

Deval Patrick: That is who we are. That is also what we stand for as Democrats. The poor are in terrible shape, but the middle class are one paycheck away, one serious illness away from being poor. The generation did all of that. I don’t get the focus on that. "A well-educated America will make things again." John McCain is one of those say one thing do something else guys. The same folks. "Democrats don’t deserve to win just because Republicans deserve to lose" This is not working. Lots of greatest generation stuff. "Government is simply the name we give to the things we choose to do together". Lost the crowd, I think.

Gov. Schweitzer comes on in a bola tie and has lots of energy. I shut down the computer at that point, and was ready to head off to bed, but he grabbed me and didn’t let go. That was a fun speech. Clearly the highlight of the night. So far.

I’ll add Hillary Clinton to the list of Big Speeches that I need to go back and watch when I get the chance.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

August 26, 2008

Democratic Convention, Monday

I did wind up watching quite a bit of the first day of the convention, and I took some very sparse notes. Here they are, for what they are worth. I'll try to write a couple of more coherent essays (brief essays, I hope) about some of the bigger issues, like the sense of powerful women in the Party and some contradictory and conflicting images around that, the tensions between the convention for the Party and the convention for the swing voters, and the color scheme that makes pale blue shirts for men look so atrocious.

Rev. Leah Daughtry, the CEO of the convention. Angry black woman in bright blue. And pearls. “The least, the last and the lost”. That’s good.

Video about The West. Governors and Senators from NV, WY, AZ, MT, WY, NM, CO. That’s pretty impressive, actually. Video is too long. Interestingly, includes a plea to get together and work on the campaign; that can’t be aimed at the conventioneers, but who else is watching at this point? Not that there’s anyone in the hall yet. Ends with AZ Gov. saying we have never elected a president from Arizona, and at least for this cycle, she’d like to continue that precedent. Hee hee.

The Credentials Committee: Eliseo Roques-Arroyo, Puerto Rico. Si se Puede. A good speaker. Then Jim Roosevelt. Unity talk. Stiff and squinty. Announces that MI and FL delegates get votes, and gets a big round of applause for it. Alexis Herman (former Secretary of Labor) on Hope and Determination. Then Dr. Dean adopts the report on voice vote.

The Rules Committee: Sunita Leeds. Pearls. Nervous-looking. Announces a new committee to look at superdelegates and caucuses. Mary Rose Oakar from the Arab-American Anti-Discrimination League, looks very Jewish to me. Ohioan. Nominates Nancy Pelosi as convention chair, other women as officials of the convention. Gov. Walker, then, who I missed, appears to nominate other officers, men this time. Then Dr. Dean gets the aye, and then he adds some other officers.

Note: Dr. Dean, in identifying the people who will be, I think Sergeants at Arms, some purely nominal post anyway, says that one of them is an “LGBT activist”. Amazing to think that (a) only four cycles ago, having an openly gay speaker was a Very Big Deal, and (2) the head of the DNC can now casually refer to LGBT without explaining or identifying further. This is the first of the moments where I find myself shocked, not by how progressive and egalitarian and diverse my Party is, but by how recently those changes have happened. More on this later, I hope.

Anyway, here I skipped a bit.

From the platform committee, Patricia Madrid, AG of NM. Patriotism is working to improve the country. Examples of patriots are are Martin Luther King, Jr., Susan B. Anthony, Cesar Chavez and Delores Huerta. Then Judith McHale, who talks about letting America be America again. Shout-out to Hillary. Dull, boilerplate speech. Tiny mouth, very serious. Nancy Pelosi gavels it aye.

Skipped some more.

The Hispanic Caucus. Missed the first bit. Silvestre Reyes, not a very likeable man. Jose Serrano, US Rep. from the Bronx, starts with “Hello, New York! Helllloooooooh, Puerrrrrto Rrrrricoooooooooo!” Speaks Spanish with a Bronx accent. Little moustache. I like him.

Nancy Keenan, from NARAL. “My Party, the Democratic Party.” Right to choose contraception. Stand with women who choose adoption. “How is it moral, John McCain…”

Amanda Kubik, speaking for young delegates. Making our change visible. “Yes we can! Or as we say up in Fargo, Yah sure, ya betcha!”

Emil Jones, Jr. IL State Senate (minority leader? Former minority leader?) South Side. Very tough looking. Nice suit. “We were not a likely pair.” Says that Sen. Obama told him “You know I like to work hard”, so sent him to work with Republicans on ethics reform. His nose is wider than his mouth!

Reg Weaver from the NEA. Black pinstriped suit. Big fellow, black, bald, with a big white walrus moustache.

Best Reader asks “what’s with the disco?”

IL AG Lisa Madigan. Wearing purple, no pearls. Very likeable. Underscoring Sen. Obama good for women. Pushing the IL state senate stuff, which of course is all he’s got, really. Important, though. Perhaps they should have saved some of this for later?

Dan Hynes. Illinois State Comptroller. Lost to Sen. Obama in the primary for Senate. “No-one likes to lose, but it’s a lot easier when you respect and admire the person who wins.”Pale blue shirt, pale blue tie, looks odd against the blue DNC background.

Alexi Giannoulis, IL State treasurer. Appears to be eighteen years old. "basketball buddy" Blue tie with a HUGE knot, very loose around a thick neck. Actually 32.

Randi Weingarten, AFT. Very angry. Good with the audience. Teachers must be partners, not pawns. Join us in this quest.

John Legend, singing. Not very interesting R&B. If you are out there? Tomorrow is starting now? Yawn. Clearly my break isn’t over.

Panel discussion on the economy. This is dumb. It’s like a parody of a Sunday morning politics show. It turns out that Barack Obama would be good for the economy! And John McCain bad! With no specifics! But lots of chatting. But I kinda like Sherrod Brown with his goofy hair and cheap-looking gray suit.

Nancy Pelosi video. It’s OK. A bit eulogy-ish, if you know what I mean.

Nancy in white. A disco pantsuit, or Nehru jacket thingie. Also, my Best Reader hates the podium. Awkward gavel business.

Margie Perez, N’awlins musician. She’s hot! Katrina, of course. Can’t afford to let John McCain drown our hopes in the same failed policies. Musician’s Village, Habitat for Humanity. A nice, if odd, bit when she grabbed the fleur-de-lis she wears around her neck, as if it were an amulet.

Video about Katrina. Which appears to be also the Jimmy Carter video. Pres. Carter gets to make the Louisiana is the third-world thing out of personal experience (with both), without making it sound insulting.

Hey! Jimmy Carter is there! With Roz, I guess. It doesn’t look like he’ll speak. They’re playing “Georgia on my Mind”. …aaand, he’s gone. Hmph. And now we’re back to a video, evidently about Barack Obama in law school.

Maya Soetoro-Ng. Comes out and hangs five (later looks this up, Wikipedia calls it the shaka sign). She doesn’t look polished (in the negative connotations), and seems strangely comfortable up there. Now she’s settled in to read from the teleprompter, seeming less comfortable, stiffer, more prepared. “Bounteous opportunity. It is a gift he has already given us in this campaign.” I don’t really like that already-historic meme that seems to be popping up.

The hall has filled up, now, at last.

Rep. Jesse Jackson, Jr. “first political convention in history to take place within sight of a mountaintop.” Again, already-historic. Not the right tone. More of his IL legislative history, which is nice. “party establishment was skeptical”. He’s not his father. He is good, though, within the normal parameters of good. Sets up the party establishment, and then says that the election wasn’t decided by them, but by the voters, the people of IL, and IL is America. An odd then about the He and the We and the She. “The well being of the ‘we’ depends on the well being of the ‘he’ and the ‘she’.“ Very awkward sounding. “The Selma generation, my father’s generation”; I like that, point out the generational thing, and that it’s effectively John McCain’s generation, as he was old enough (by 1964 at any rate) to have helped with the movement, and didn't. “I know Barack Obama, I have seen his leadership at work.” In Denver, a mile high, “Freedom has never rung from a higher mountaintop than it does today.” The music isn’t as bad as four years ago. That’s something. I’m not saying it’s good, I’m just saying it doesn’t make me want to hurt the musical director. Yet, anyway. Where’s Will.I.Am?

It’s been five minutes now of music and panning over the Big Tent. I love the Big Tent, but it does seem like a programming problem.

Homes for our Troops? Each convention site-meaning here and in Minneapolis? Didn’t get this.

Mike and Cheryl Fisher, talking about lunch with B.O. before the IN primary. Kinda cute. Very much an aw, shucks.

Tom Balanoff, SEIU Chicago. This guy isn’t much of a speaker. OK. His tie works on TV better than it ought to. Why did they give him a prime-time slot? Is anybody other than C-SPAN going to show it?

Caroline Kennedy (Schlossberg) enters to the tune of “Sweet Caroline”, which I think means that the Sox won. “Barack Obama and Edward M. Kennedy. Their stories are very different…“ Ya think? “Barack Obama is making them feel hopeful, the way they did when my father was President.” “I’ve never had someone inspire me the way people tell me my father inspired them. But I do now, with Barack Obama.” Uncle Teddy. “If you… Teddy is your Senator, too.” wonderful.

Video tribute opens with water. A. Cline points out that Teddy and water are not necessarily the right combination. Wish that chap would quit it, if you know what I mean. The tribute thing has a touch of noblesse oblige, what with the yachts and all. Comment about Joe dying in war, a bit awkward but nice.

They are going to let him talk! Oh, wow. I am a little worried that this undermines the message, particularly the generational message. But wow. I’m teared up, a little. “we are all called to a better country and a newer world.” “For me, this is a season of hope.” Moon stuff. Not a great image, since we left it and didn’t go back. “not merely victory for our party, but renewal for our nation. And this November, the torch will be passed again…” “The work begins anew! The hope rises again! And the dream lives on.”

They’re playing “Still the One”. Ah, well. Time for a break, again. Last time, I came to loathe the musical director with the hate of a hundred … er … hatey things. Maybe I should go to bed.

Tom Harkin comes on and gives a brief two or three sentences in American Sign Language, with an interpreter to speak for him. Lovely. Now he’s introducing Jim Leach, a Republican Rep from Iowa.

Jim Leach is giving a dull speech. I’m knocking off for the night. I’ll watch the last two big speeches, sooner or later, right?

August 25, 2008

Things to Do in Denver when You're Not in Denver

Your Humble Blogger watched almost all of last cycle’s Democratic Convention, and blogged a lot of it, and enjoyed it quite a bit. I particularly enjoyed blogging the not-ready-for-prime-time stuff. And I would enjoy watching and blogging again this year: this evening will be a dozen or so Representatives with whom I am mostly unfamiliar, the Attorney General of Illinois, Sen. Klobuchar, some union folk, eventually Sens. Harkin and McCaskill, and of course Michelle Obama. And I will watch some of it, I hope. But not much.

Part of that is simply the time zone thing. Today’s action starts at three in the afternoon, Mountain Time, which is five in Connecticut, not a good hour for focusing on the live stream . The two or three hours that follow are also bad; I could have the stream on, but I will be eating dinner with my family (a very important thing, which I have missed far too often this summer), and then playing with my children and getting them to bed. I can’t say I know for sure when Ms. Obama will speak, but the schedule calls for her to be the last speech, likely at around ten o’clock our time. I may watch, or I may turn in early; I am still catching up on lost sleep from being in a show.

Anyway, I will probably make the odd comment or two, but I’m afraid that for full convention blogging you will have to look elsewhere. Or do it yourself! I’ll open this Tohu Bohu to guest posts on the convention, or you can comment on these posts. Help a brother out, Gentle Readers.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

July 22, 2008

What to do, what to do

Your Humble Blogger hasn’t been blogging much about the presidential campaign lately. I have been following the news, believe me. I just don’t have much to say about it. I remain moderately confident that Barack Obama will win the election, although I suspect it will be fairly close. I remain amazed at how lousy a candidate John McCain is, but don’t think that will matter very much. I remain concerned more about the congressional elections than the White House, and very happy about what’s going on there, particularly how well Sen. Obama’s campaign seems to be integrating with local campaigns.

I suppose the thing I find most interesting, from a rhetorical standpoint, is the decision to hold Sen. Obama’s acceptance speech outside the convention hall. Really, it’s a terrific thing. I am fond of the FDR precedent of speaking directly to the convention, but now that it has been the common practice for a generation, it has lost its power. It’s far more powerful, as a story, to walk out of the smoke-filled room and speak to the rank and file directly. And, of course, with fifty thousand or so people in Mile High Stadium, all of whom are eager to provide him with great television, I suspect the moment will be a triumph.

John McCain can’t do the same thing, of course, partially because it would look bad to copy the innovation (yes, I know, not really an innovation) of the Democratic Nominee, and partially because he is not good at big speeches in front of big crowds, and even with 50,000 Republicans rooting for him, it would be too likely to fail. Also, while both candidates have reputations as being independent from the Party Line, John McCain’s is (a) slightly more grounded in actual hostility between him and much of the Party, and (2) in the public mind, more based on his maverick rejection of the Party Line than on an outreach across it. Where Sen. Obama can walk out of the convention and take the Party with him, if Sen. McCain walked out of the convention, he would be viewed as leaving it behind.

So what can John McCain do that would get lots of publicity, help with the narrative of his campaign and play to his strengths? Realistically, just keep expectations low, give a boring speech at a boring convention, like everyone expects, and hope nobody notices it or remembers it. Which they won’t, probably. And then we move on to the debates, where Sen. McCain should do very well. But what if he didn’t give a speech at all?

Just an idea, and probably a bad one, but what if he simply didn’t give an acceptance speech? If he stood on the floor with the delegation from Arizona, let himself be nominated, and waved his thanks from the floor? Then he lets himself be interviewed by the news programs, one after another, on the floor of the convention, while the crowd celebrates and chants (and bands play) and various popular Republicans come by, interrupt the interviews and slap him on the back. Gently. You know. It would have to be very well organized, and the Senator would have to fully commit to the choreography (as would the Republican officeholders and celebrities), and still it might not work. But it might?

And perhaps in addition, either before counting the votes or the next night, how about some sort of panel discussion about policy with Sen. McCain, Newt Gingrich perhaps, Mitt Romney or Mike Huckabee or someone from the primaries, and somebody from the administration (that isn’t under indictment), to set up all those ad lib bon mots that John McCain does very well. It’s his strength as a speaker, such as it is.

My Best Reader suggested that, since realistically my idea has no chance of being even considered, the wild news-making idea might be for the candidate and his vice-presidential ticket-mate could give a combined speech, passing the ball back and forth in a conversational but still formal manner. That has the chance of putting the Senator at ease and giving him some opportunity for repartee, while still mostly giving people what they expect, the candidate at the podium in prime time. I see that, although then he really must pick someone he can banter with, which leaves out almost everyone who can help him win the election, right?

Or, of course, he could go Old School, not go to the convention at all, and have some surrogate read his acceptance from the telegram.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

July 6, 2008

From Dependence to Independence: a citizenship story

Your Humble Blogger has picked up a book by Noelle McAfee, who blogs over at gonepublic. She seems to be a very interesting thinker, and a few pages provoked a great deal of thinking on my part, as well as a sense that YHB will very frequently be using slightly modified versions of her metaphors and framing devices to discuss political matters. So don’t read her book, dammit! It’ll ruin the whole thing.

Anyway, the one thing I thought I’d throw out there for Gentle Readers to kick around is her idea that instead of looking at political maturity as a progress from dependence to independence, we should look at it as a progress … wait, before I get to that point, let’s look at her rejected paradigm to see if (a) it’s a straw man that nobody sensible would actually argue, or (2) it’s a very solid idea that we reject only at great cost.

The idea, and I’m going to try to articulate it myself, without resorting to her language, is that traditional views of democratic participation and citizenship have, as their ideal, the citizen as an independent rational actor. Given two policies, the ideal citizen will use abstract reason to determine the preferable one. This citizen will not be swayed by the individuals proposing their ideas, nor the rhetoric with which the ideas are communicated. You will know the ideal citizen, in fact, by his (or her) ability to strip away the inflammatory rhetoric, the appeals to passion, fear and ambition, the partisan jockeying that poisons our political discourse. No, the ideal citizen will vote for the man, not the party, and for the policy, not the man. It’s all about issues. Not to be distracted by flag pins or swift boats or a comparison of spouses styles, but to keep eyes on prize, that prize being, of course, policy.

There are two problems with that ideal that come to YHB’s mind after dipping into Ms. McAfee’s book. One is, of course, that it’s preposterous bullshit. Nobody does that. We might as well have an ideal citizen who is impervious to cold or heat, who can leap tall buildings in a single bound, or who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men. People may attempt to vote or deliberate without being tainted by emotional appeals, but they will succeed mostly in deceiving themselves about their supposed rationality.

On the other hand, the preposterous bullshit may serve a useful purpose. If we hold to our ideal citizen as described above, we gain merit by learning not to be deceived by rhetorical tricks. The more we try to achieve that ideal, the less we are swayed by fear and hate, and the more our ultimate decisions will be good ones. For all that everybody’s perception of the universe is incomplete and inaccurate, yet the universe does exist. I can apply my skills to it and improve my perception without the hope of some attainable perfection. We will, you see, make better decisions if we fool ourselves into acting as if this ideal were attainable. So that first problem is not necessarily a disaster, although it should be pointed out that perhaps basing self-governance on self-deception is not altogether a pleasant thing.

The other problem that comes to mind is that on a deep level, the emphasis on individual reasoned decision-making makes it difficult for people to reconcile their differing views. That is, if I come to a rational decision, based on all the facts and not tempered by my emotional or tribal attachments, and you come to a different decision, then you are wrong. Oh, yes, it’s possible to agree to disagree, to weigh different kinds of costs differently and to interpret evidence differently, but the way it actually works is that you are wrong. I have done the ideal citizen thing, and you have been duped by demagogues. This is a serious danger: George Santayana felt that democracy was inherently flawed because the minority could never really accept the legitimacy of the majority when the majority was wrong, and of course the minority would always think the majority was wrong or else they would join it. This is exacerbated by our ideal of the independent citizen; if I pride myself on coming to my political conclusions independently, rather than being influenced by my community, then it is easier for me to reject the individuals who have come to different (and inferior) decisions, who are independently and individually responsible for those decisions.

On the other hand, there is much to be said for sticking to that individual, minority view. As long as we accept the process, we can grant the legitimacy of a government with which we disagree. And for all the trouble we’ve had in the last two decades (or more) of the Parties questioning the legitimacy of each other’s electoral victories, would it have been any better if the groups were any less assured of the rightness or independence or rationality of their decisions? Surely our ideal citizen would, in his rationality, his independence and his relentless focus on The Issues, be less susceptible to the pettiest aspects of those decades of partisan bickering. Instead, the ideal citizen would focus on those areas where such disagreements affect governance, which would make it all the harder for politicians of either Party to achieve dubious goals by distraction and division. If the problem is, to some extent, factionalism, then having the ideal citizen who disdains to aggregate himself with any faction is a brake. Although, here, too, it may not be a good thing for a community to eschew communitarianism outright.

So. Gentle Readers. We start with this idea, that the ideal citizen is the product of a growth from dependence to independence. First, we have no political ideas at all, nor any way to express them. Then as children, we learn a little about politics, but are incapable of formulating independent ideas or of rationally analyzing platforms and candidacies, and our entire worldview is dominated by our family and school to the point where even if we had the skills to analyze or formulate, we would be either imitating or rebelling against those other views rather than being independent. Then, as we get more sophisticated, we learn to set aside our biases, to disagree or agree with our parents, teachers and friends based on the facts at hand, rather than our relationships. We learn, as well, to view the statements of politicians skeptically, and to brush aside empty rhetoric and misleading appeals. Ideally, now, we arm ourselves against demagoguery and deception. We don’t just accept the advice of our parents or our pastors or our union bosses; we view their advice, also, with a skeptical and rational eye. We spot logical fallacies and reject fallacious conclusions. We judge, based not on our emotions and attachments, but on reason and evidence, and we do so as individuals, independently, each going in to a voting booth, pulling the curtain closed (perhaps metaphorically), and registering one single vote, to be tallied with all the other individual votes, each aspiring to the rationality and unbiased impartiality of the ideal citizen, cumulatively guiding a state aspiring to rationality and impartiality itself.

Does that seem like a fair description of our cultural ideals, and the assumptive ideals of John Rawls and Immanuel Kant and Isaiah Berlin and John Stuart Mill and John Dewey and Robert Nozick and G. A. Cohen and Milton Friedman, as well as of James Madison himself? Of course not, that would be preposterous bullshit to claim. But the point, I think, is that there is a fundamental mindset that binds up ideas of individual autonomy with democracy and liberty, that makes this development—from dependence to independence—a fundamental story we tell ourselves about ourselves as citizens, and that we set up our democratic states in accordance with that story. Which leads to two questions: is it a true story, and is it a good story?

And another: what would be a better story?

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

June 29, 2008

One goes up, the other comes down

One recent bit of nutmeggy goodness in my home state is a push in the legislature to again allow gas stations to offer a cash discount. I’m annoyed by the rhetoric of this, so I thought I’d bring my venting here.

Why call it a cash discount? Why not call it a credit surcharge? That’s what’s going on, isn’t it? The gas is one price, and if you pay that price, fine, but if you put it on a card, it incurs an extra cost for the station, and they want to pass that cost (or some portion of it) back to you. That seems reasonable to me; allowing them to discount for cash seems less so.

Of course, I don’t really see why they should be allowed to pass the surcharge for gas on to you, and not be allowed to pass on the surcharge for, f’r’ex, a gallon of milk purchased in the little convenience store attached to the station. Or, for that matter, why gas stations should be allowed to add that surcharge, but grocery stores and clothiers and restaurants should not. I would be OK with allowing everybody to do that, if they wanted. I can see arguments against it, and if I had to vote on such a bill, I don’t really know which way I’d lean. But only allowing such a surcharge at gas stations doesn’t make much sense to me. Why is gas different from milk? I mean, other than the obvious, which has nothing to do with credit charges?

I also wouldn’t mind some better regulation on the credit card industry on how much they are allowed to charge vendors, and how much they are allowed to squeeze. That would be swell, and would probably do more to ease inflationary pressure than allowing a credit surcharge.

Which is where the rhetoric comes in. It’s not that it’s inaccurate, exactly, to call it a cash discount. It’s not as if there is some normative price, below which is a discount and above which is a surcharge, and we can tell which is which and apply the appropriate name. It’s that calling it a cash discount puts the focus on the discount, where calling it a credit surcharge puts the focus on the credit, and from a public policy point of view (and the legislature is presumably taking it up as public policy, not as a deputy sales force for the gas stations), the focus should be on the credit.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

May 24, 2008

The Big Story

Once in a while, a politician will say something dumb. Are you with me so far? Once in a while, the dumb thing will become news and take over the airwaves and column-inches to a really horrifying extent. We’ve got an example of it this morning, and I think it’s worth us all taking a look at it and talking about the phenomenon.

Let’s start with the dumb thing. Here’s Hillary Clinton, in response to a question about whether she should drop out of the race now, rather than waiting until the primaries are over in June:

Between my opponent and his camp, and some in the media, there has been this urgency to end this. And, you know, historically that makes no sense. So I find it a bit of a mystery. [interviewer: you don’t buy the party unity argument?] I don’t, because, again, I’ve been around long enough. My husband did not wrap up the nomination in 1992 until he won the California primary somewhere in the middle of June, right? We all remember Bobby Kennedy was assassinated in June in California. You know, I just, I don’t understand it. There’s lots of speculation about why it is, but [interviewer: what’s your speculation?] You know, I don’t know. I find it curious.

…and just so you have a good sense of the inflection, go and watch the video and then come back. Oh, hell, let me try to embed the bastard thing.


This made the front page of the Hartford Courant, made the above-the-fold part of the New York Times on the web (and I think made the front page of the print below the fold, but I’m not sure about that), made the Guardian, and of course made all the blogs and web sites, too. Sam Boyd, over at TAPped, in a note called Oh No She Didn’t says “Hillary Clinton suggests, elliptically at the very least, that she’s staying the presidential race in case Barack Obama is assassinated.” Hunh? But yes, that’s how it seems to be playing. Katharine Q. Seelye, in the New York Times article, says that “the comments touched on one of the most sensitive aspects of the current presidential campaign—concern for Mr. Obama’s safety.”

I’ll try to be brief here with my analysis of the actual statement, since I don’t think the actual statement is terribly important. It’s obvious to me that Senator Clinton was invoking a historical argument to say that it is perfectly fine to have a nomination contested until June, because it has been so contested in the past without problems. And we remember about June, because it was June when Robert Kennedy was killed, which we remember. This is unpersuasive as an argument because (a) the calendar, news media, and cultural context is very different than it was in 1992 and even more different than it was in 1968, (2) 1968 was a disastrous year for the Party, even before the assassination, and (iii) the nomination fight in 1992 was essentially over after New Hampshire, when the Comeback Kid took second and was assumed to romp on Super Tuesday in his home South, which he did, and that took care of Paul Tsongas. You could make an argument that, independent of anything else, June is plenty of time to pick a nominee for an August convention, much less a November election, but the historical stuff is irrelevant to that. Or you could make the opposite sort of argument, from uniqueness, that there has never been an election so close, where two candidates had so many pledged delegates, and where both were still winning primaries so far into the calendar, and that for that reason we should savor it and see it through, rather than rushing to stop it. But nobody who wants the Senator to withdraw now, or who wanted her to withdraw after the Texas primary, will be convinced by a historical argument, nor should they be.

OK. Fine, it was a bad argument, and like the arguments about which states count and which methods for counting the total number of votes cast count, and most of the other arguments about how she could realio trulio be the nominee, is both unpersuasive and a trifle embarrassing. In my opinion, the stuff that implies that pale-skinned voters should be the deciding factor in our Party’s nomination is more offensive than the reference to a historical event, but evidently that’s just me. This one is the big news. Why?

I think it’s because the dominant narrative—the story of what happens, rather than what happens—has become Senator Clinton’s desperate struggle to stay afloat. In this story, she is lashing out, trying anything, no longer caring who gets hurt, grasping at the lowest-probability straws. The thing about this story is that it ends with her utter destruction. Not just her losing the nomination, mind you, but abandonment by all her political friends and allies, and the total loss of power over others and control over herself. I’m not saying that will actually happen, mind you, just that it’s the way the story goes, and that if that’s the story that we are telling ourselves nationally, that’s the story we will see. Fortunately, there is always the chance that in a couple of years we will be telling ourselves an entirely different story. A couple of months, even. We’re easy that way.

The other narrative that I think is making this whole thing click is the Camelot story. Handsome young man goes to Washington, bringing fresh energy, new hope and a generational change, and They kill him. That story, combined with the deeper but vaguer fear of racial violence, leads us to be very sensitive to the idea that Barack Obama is peculiarly vulnerable to assassination. Honestly, I think there’s something to that, in that I know there are a lot of violent racists in this country, but then I think that there are a lot of violent misogynists in this country, and Hillary Clinton has been vilified for more than fifteen years. A disturbed young fellow in his early twenties may not remember a world without people saying on the radio that Hillary Clinton was a murderess. Of course, I am astonished that there haven’t been close calls with Our Only President himself. He is mildly disliked by a lot of people, but he is actively hated by quite a few as well, some of whom have never accepted his legitimacy in office, and some of whom fear that, having disregarded many provisions of the Constitution, he will not leave office in January 2009. I am pleased that nobody, domestic or foreign, has made serious attempts to murder the man, but I am surprised. Particularly since there were two or three attempts on the life of Our Previous President, some sort of foreign conspiracy to take the life of the President Before That, the One Before That was actually shot, and in fact most of the Presidents of my lifetime have had attempts on their life, from Squeaky Fromme to the guy who tried to hijack an airplane.

Anyway, I think a lot of us have a real and only somewhat irrational fear that Barack Obama will be assassinated. And, of course, a Kennedy has been in the news recently; that’s presumably part of why Senator Clinton had it in mind and repeated the comment (which she has evidently made more than once). I think it’s not altogether shocking that our pattern-matching brains put the two together.

The problem is that I want my journalism to be smarter than that. I want my newspaper editors and yes, even my bloggers to be aware of the temptation to go along with the narratives, and to resist it as much as they can. It’ll still happen, of course, but maybe it’ll be less annoying in between times. At least for me. What do you think, Gentle Readers? Are you seeing a different set of narratives? In what context does the placement of this story on the front page make sense to you?

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

April 22, 2008

Mamet vs. Edgar

Did any of y’all actually read David Mamet’s now-famous essay in the Village Voice called Why I Am No Longer a ’Brain-Dead Liberal’: An election-season essay? If so, I am sorry. I know you are stupider now for having read it, but there’s an antidote: David Edgar’s essay in the Guarniad called With friends like these . . .

Aside from the fact that Mr. Edgar is, on the whole, on the same side of the political spectrum as YHB, which makes my recommendation suspect, it should be obvious on a moment’s scanning of the two articles that Mr. Edgar knows his political and cultural history, and that Mr. Mamet doesn’t. Furthermore, Mr. Edgar knows that conservative and liberal are not just nice little labels but are alliances with political goals and political effects. Mr. Mamet, despite writing for an election season, doesn't talk about actual politicians and actual policies. He simply makes the argument that “tallying up the ledger in those things which affect me and in those things I observe, I am hard-pressed to see an instance where the intervention of the government led to much beyond sorrow.” Mr. Edgar responds, “Whether they like it or not, the current defectors are seeking to provide a vocabulary for the progressive intelligentsia to abandon the poor.”

Well, and Mr. Edgar is placing Mr. Mamet’s defection into a cultural and historical context of which Mr. Mamet appears to be unaware. Mr. Mamet may, however, by faking that ignorance. It’s hard to tell. A thing I find particularly disingenuous about Mr. Mamet’s essay is that although he mentions his rabbi and congregation (and jokes about calling NPR ‘National Palestinian Radio), he doesn’t connect his new conservatism with the support for conservative politicians and positions among other Orthodox Jews. Considering that much of Mr. Mamet’s time and energy over the last decade has gone into writing about Judaism, I think it’s misleading for him to say that he hasn’t thought about politics until starting to write November. Perhaps he is, himself, misled. It seems likely.

Mr. Edgar seems to understand something that I think should have been brought ought more clearly: a person’s opinions are not simply his own, self-built and independent. That’s crap. Your opinions, my opinions, are inventions of the community. You have volition, sure, in choosing what opinions to have, but that is in no way a separate matter from choosing your community. It’s part of the same business. Mr. Mamet may think that his narrow view of acceptable Judaism has nothing to do with his new-found appreciation for market-based solutions for the ills of the nation, but I doubt it.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

April 15, 2008

Oops.

So. Barack Obama said something that was awkward, and although it wasn’t substantially false, or substantially different from things he has said over the years, or from things that other people have said over the years, he’s getting shit over it.

Good.

That’s part of the process. We find out who is good at campaigning by watching them campaign. Chris Dodd is a good candidate on paper, but the proof of that pudding was in the eating, and they spit him out like a toddler spits out the foodstuff that he liked just fine yesterday, for crying out loud, and now what the hell is he going to eat?

Er, where was I? Oh, yes. Fine, I have no problem with people giving him shit about this stuff, and I think he’s getting over it pretty well, which to me is the last bit of showing that he’s capable of running a decent general election campaign. But made me think about gaffes and mistakes, and campaigns and all.

My diagnosis is that (like Harold Dean’s confederate-flag-decal moment last go-round) this particular mistake was the result of having a well-thought out idea and then repeating it in slightly different form over and over again for months and months and months. Eventually, you will hit on a way of expressing it that connotes something terrible and unintended. Instead of saying that a lot of voters have (bitterly) given up on the ability of politics to make an actual difference in their economic lives and therefore vote on non-economic issues (bye-the-bye what Dr. Dean was on about as well), he says that voters non-economic preferences are themselves the result of their economic bitterness. And, you know, it’s not like that’s false. It’s just that it wasn’t what he meant to say. Which you can tell from the hundred other times he said it.

The safe thing, of course, is to always say the same thing the exact same way, but (a) that’s a bit boring over the years, particularly for an intelligent man who likes rhetoric and words, and (2) you risk a reputation for robotically repeating the same things over and over, which won’t necessarily be better than having to deal with the occasional gaffes.

I don’t believe that mistakes of this kind reveal the inner thinking of the candidate. I don’t necessarily believe in the inner thinking of the candidate, and to the extent that the candidate has inner thinking, I don’t know that it makes any difference. But combine natural political haymaking with the desire to be in on something, and such moments are analyzed in detail for what they reveal. I don’t think they reveal much.

I don’t think that Stephen Hadley really doesn’t know the difference between Tibet and Nepal. That’s a mental block moment, not fundamental ignorance (although it’s possible that George Stephanopoulos is fundamentally ignorant, either of the world or his job). The HuffPo calls it a "horrendous gaffe", and it is, in the sense that it’s a very public error, but I don’t see any reason to take it at all seriously.

But, you ask, what about John McCain’s errors, particularly his frequent statements that Iran is training and supplying Al Qaeda in Iraq? Well, in all honesty, I don’t think that the specific errors in Q&A pressers are very important. I think it’s possible to go to his actual prepared statements for things that are either similar or worse; basing a vote or a persuasion campaign on the accidental stuff seems silly to me. But yes, my gut tells me that those errors are revealing, that his mistakes lift the veil on a vast sea of ignorance and metaphor mixing. But I don’t trust my gut. My gut knows I don’t like the man. If my gut thought I didn’t like Barack Obama, my gut would tell me that the bitter thing proved that he couldn’t be trusted as the nominee. My gut is loyal, but my gut’s perception of the universe is not the universe.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

March 13, 2008

Or, as we used to say, schvartze

I surprise myself by having something to say about the Geraldine Ferraro business. Not a lot to say, although I expect to say it in a lot of words, as Gentle Readers would imagine. So settle in.

Ms. Ferraro said “If Obama was a white man, he would not be in this position. And if he was a woman of any color, he would not be in this position. He happens to be very lucky to be who he is. And the country is caught up in the concept.”

Now, I want to be clear: rhetorically, this connotes racism. The connotations are clearly those of the white person who doesn’t get the job that goes to the underqualified black person. This is a trope that’s been repeated many times, in various places in the culture, and it reminds us (and should remind us) of those other uses. It doesn’t matter, rhetorically, if Ms. Ferraro is a racist, or meant it in a derogatory manner (she clarified that she meant to compare the situation to her own nomination to the Vice-Presidency: “In 1984 if my name had been Gerald Ferraro, not Geraldine, I would never have gotten nominated. Was I qualified? Absolutely.”). It still rings the bells that it rings. You don’t get a pass for good intentions.

I do want to examine the trope a little further, though. Usually, when I hear it in Real Life, it’s some white person (usually a man, in personal sample, but I don’t mean to suggest that men use it more frequently than women other than in conversation with me) saying that he has applied for a job, but that he wouldn’t get it, because he put on the voluntary form that he was white. Often this comes with a ‘joke’ about how he should put down that he’s one-thirty-second Cherokee, or that he’s from Betelgeuse, or something equally hilarious.

I try, sometimes, to point out the context. It may be true that the particular employer is giving a break to our dusky-hued brethren, but it often isn’t. There are other factors at work, and one of the factors is that the person making the hiring decision may be a person like our jokester, who likes to work with people like him, and hey! Our jokester is more like him than that other guy, the one with, you know, the different racial heritage. This happens a lot. A lot. Still. No kidding. Even when the hiring process is rigged to privilege the less-privileged.

But even if in this particular instance there is a benefit to being in a racial minority, how can anybody think that it’s even the slightest bit funny to sign on for that benefit without anything else? He’s not signing on for getting stopped by traffic cops. He’s not signing on for being followed around in clothes stores. He’s not signing on for being treated differently by mortgage brokers. No, he just wants to be a minority when he thinks it works for him. Even further—when he jokes about signing on as Cherokee, he’s not signing on for growing up on the reservation, with lousy schools and 50% unemployment, for having Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (or having cousins or neighbors with it), or for being tracked out of the possibility of getting prepared for the job that he just applied for. No, grow up white and then whine about it later.

As a digression, I should add that fellows like this aren’t always racist in the sense of believing that people of other races are genetically inferior. Many of them think it’s a matter of culture, that kids are taught such-and-such bad habits and given such-and-such bad role models. For some reason, that doesn’t bring out the pity in them. Surely, even if I can’t imagine that I might have been born with dark skin, I can imagine what it’s like to grow up being taught those bad habits. Surely that would be just as vicious a result of racism as if we taught Cherokees that two plus two is five! I would think that such people would be forced to support affirmative action to remedy the deprivation, even more strongly that people like me who don’t, on the whole, believe that Native Americans, African-Americans, Latinos and other racial minorities in America can be assumed to have any inferiority at all, cultural or genetic. Anyway.

Ms. Ferraro does, I should point out, know all this. A trifle over a year ago, in The Pattern May Change, Adam Nagourney quotes her: “I think [winning the presidency]’s more realistic for a woman than it is for an African-American. There is a certain amount of racism that exists in the United States—whether it’s conscious or not it’s true.”

Now, Gentle Reader, come one step further with me, please. For any aspect of life that is, on the whole, detrimental, there will be certain extraordinary people who are able to turn it to their advantage. This is a wonderful thing about us. And, on occasion, it’s an annoying thing about us. So Ms. Ferraro, facing the patriarchal structure in politics, was able to turn her sex into an asset. She had the disadvantages. Those didn’t disappear. But she was able to add onto those a new set of advantages. So, too, has Barack Obama turned the disadvantage that Ms. Ferraro saw a year ago into the advantage she sees today. This is entirely to his credit. It’s a remarkable thing, and I feel lucky to be witnessing it. Not only because it’s being done in this arena, but because Sen. Obama is doing it in a way that is good for the whole society.

Lincoln Perry turned the disadvantage of pervasive, vicious racism into the advantage of being Stepin Fetchit. The result could be argued back and forth, but I’d say that on the whole, it was not an advantage to other people. Barack Obama is not only turning his disadvantage to an advantage for his own candidacy, but an advantage for other African-Americans, and ultimately an advantage for everybody in this country. Whether he becomes President, or becomes the nominee of my Party for the Presidency, that’s a great thing.

I’ll retreat with another little point specific to Ms. Ferraro and the two Senators. It seems to me, and in fact it seems obvious to me, that if there had not been a black candidate who had been proved to be seen as a viable candidate by white voters in Iowa and New Hampshire, then Sen. Clinton would have got more than half the black vote in South Carolina and other of the early primaries, and the whole thing would have been over before Super-Duper-Ooper-Toosday. But then, if there had been a Jewish candidate that was proved to be seen as viable in Iowa and New Hampshire, perhaps Sen. Clinton wouldn’t have won California and New York. It’s cheating to take only the counterfactuals that make your side win. There is a viable black candidate, so of course things are different than they ever were. I understand why some of Sen. Clinton’s supporters, who along with Ms. Ferraro assumed that there was no fucking way that there would be a black candidate that anybody thought could win, feel that the reason their candidate is losing is because Barack Obama is black. I understand that, and I understand that it seems so obvious to them that they are frustrated that nobody is saying it. But if you are saying it, and you don’t also say that Barack Obama’s ability to turn the natural disadvantages under which he has lived into positives is admirable and remarkable, then you have lost the right to complain when people call you racist. Too bad. Swallow it. If the worst thing that happens to you today is that somebody calls you a racist, then you win the day.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

March 12, 2008

John McCain: more complicated than that

It’s been a commonplace truth of politics for some time now that the press is Senator McCain’s base. He gets tremendously favorable coverage. He works hard to get it, and makes good use of it. Trying to look at it fresh, it’s actually remarkable that they like him so much, since he has little in common with them. He’s a cranky old man from a military family. He doesn’t come from a background in journalism; lots of politicians do, and they don’t always get breaks from the press (see Gore, Albert, Junior).

The answer seems to be that Senator McCain makes their jobs easier. He gives lots of access, and lots of quotes. The quotes are often newsworthy, and they are generally very simple. Paul Waldman over at The American Prospect says that John McCain may be More Bellicose than Bush?

Ask, say, Joe Biden a question about foreign affairs, and he’ll blabber on for hours about all the different forces at work affecting a particular region of the world. You may nod off midway through, but there’s little doubt the guy knows what he’s talking about. Ask McCain, on the other hand, and he’ll do little more than repeat some shopworn clichés. If he has a wealth of knowledge and understanding, he’s certainly doing a good job keeping it hidden.

The thing is, I can imagine the reporter’s frustration in listening to the hypothetical answer from Senator Biden. How am I going to turn this into a story? he would ask himself, and he probably wouldn’t bother to try too hard to do it. In fact, he might not even try too hard to understand the complicated, hours-long answer. He might not have the background to understand it. Journalists can’t be expected to have a good background in everything, and those assigned to the political beat generally have a good background in electoral politics and in writing journalism, and (I suspect) not much else. A detailed answer about macro-economics or geopolitics or climate change or even tax policy could be beyond their ken, and that isn’t assuming that they’re dim.

And you know some of them are dim. And some of them don’t like being made to feel dim by some policy wonk.

So Senator McCain gives them short, wacky quotes that they can understand, and that they know they can easily present to their readers and viewers and listeners, and that they know that their readers and viewers and listeners will understand, and that’s a good guy to have around.

I don’t happen to think that Sen. McCain is doing it on purpose. That is to say, I suspect he’s got a natural tendency to talk that way, and that he has, over the years, responded to the support of the press by becoming more like himself. If he comes out of a bull session on the campaign bus thinking the SOBs ate that up with spoons, I suspect it is with pride, rather than contempt. Or self-contempt. I don’t know, of course. The man could be simple like a fox. But I doubt it.

All that said, is there a good lesson for us Democratic students of applied rhetoric in the way John McCain has garnered the support of the press? I believe (on the whole) that our Party understands that it’s more complicated than that is always a correct answer to any question; I wonder sometimes if we understand that it’s not the only correct answer, and is rarely the best or most helpful answer. On the other hand, we can’t give up on that answer in order to win elections, or we lose the more important contest for the future of the country. I do think that we need to understand the dynamic, and if we can’t use it to our own advantage (and I suspect we can’t), we can at least try to play a better defense against it.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

March 6, 2008

She's my country, I think I'll keep her

Travis Daub over at the Foreign Policy Passport notes that John McCain loves Lady Liberty. He makes a terrific point about the candidate’s rhetorical reference to our nation in the feminine:

First, using "her" shows McCain as a traditionalist. He talks about great causes the way a founding father might have spoken. And second, McCain establishes himself as a paternal figure: a man who has the power to protect, honor and provide for a woman—when that woman just happens to be the USA. It's a subtle way to imply that a woman would not be able to do the same job as president as a man. Certainly, it would sound strange for Hillary Clinton to refer to America as "her." In this way, McCain can covertly raise the gender issue without ever sounding overtly sexist.


I often claim that we should teach rhetoric at the high school level. This is one example of a case where it’s fairly difficult to explain what’s going on to people who don’t know anything at all about rhetoric. After all, why shouldn’t Senator McCain refer to America as she. It really is the traditional way. And it is. And if it comes off as sexist in some indirect way, surely that’s just the inevitable baggage of the tradition, and besides, isn’t a big deal anyway.

There’s nothing necessarily nefarious about his choice. After all, he is the Conservative candidate (at least he is the more Conservative candidate), and if his language indicates Conservatism, he will be indicating Conservatism in a variety of other ways as well, including the name of his Party. It’s not dishonest. It’s not a dog whistle.

But it does have connotations that aren’t necessarily obvious to the hearer, and that contribute to the vague impressions that are, after all, what most of us take away from political speeches. The more people who know something about rhetoric and how it works, the more people who understand that there are deliberate choices to connote those things, the less vague those impressions will be.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

February 7, 2008

words, words, words

Eric Alterman in The Nation mentions a speech by John F. Kennedy accepting the nomination of New York’s Liberal Party in 1960. It’s an interesting speech. Mr. Alterman (and others, including the audience) picked out the bit at the beginning, where then-Senator Kennedy suggests that he (and by extention each Liberal in the audience) is “someone who looks ahead and not behind, someone who welcomes new ideas without rigid reactions, someone who cares about the welfare of the people—their health, their housing, their schools, their jobs, their civil rights, and their civil liberties—someone who believes we can break through the stalemate and suspicions that grip us in our policies abroad, if that is what they mean by a "Liberal," then I’m proud to say I’m a "Liberal."”

There’s a bit of fuss, to which Mr. Alterman is responding, about whether the Democratic Party in this country should keep or reject the adjective liberal. I am ambivalent, myself. Mr. Kennedy’s speech notwithstanding, I’m not terribly comfortable with definitions of political liberalism that are connected to the word and its traditions. In fact, and I think I’ve said this before, I think there the two parties in this country broadly represent on our side the idea that the federal government should use a bit more of its power to protect those with less power (money, education, connection, resources, etc) from those with more, and those who think that such is not an appropriate role for the federal government. There are a variety of reasons and motivations for those, but that’s the essential split and the politics of it. There isn’t much that’s liberal about our side, except I suppose a sense of great-spiritedness, or at least a sense of that the other side is unacceptably stingy. In terms of liberty, well, we’re for it in general, but as I said, I don’t think there’s a liberty-related definition that makes a lot of sense for the Party or its agenda.

I do tend to think of myself as progressive, not in the sense of the Progressive Party, but in the sense that I tend to describe my mindset in opposition to the Conservative attitude toward our inherited institutions, values, symbols and rituals. The Conservative mindset (on the whole) is that our IVSRs are in danger and must be protected. I feel that we can have better ones, and that our job is essentially to progress to better ones.

Still, if I describe myself as politically progressive, I don’t get to decide what that means or what it connotes. Same with liberal. The truth is that (as with conservative) the words have connotations and meanings, and that in practice the Democratic Party is the liberal Party and its candidate will be seen as a liberal, perhaps as too liberal. Vaddevah dat means.

You know, Your Humble Blogger is a jerk. But I really want somebody high up enough in Democratic politics that the Sunday morning pundit-wallahs have to talk to them now and then to take up the rhetorical strategy of playing dumb when people use certain words. What do you mean? When you use the word liberal, what do you mean by that? How do you know if a policy or a candidate is liberal, or how liberal it is? and just keep at it until the host either gives up or says something. Not just with that word, of course, but with lots of stuff. Because I really don’t know what Mr. Lehrer or Ms. Clift or Mr. Russert or the buffoon Chris Matthews mean, most of the time. More important, though, I think it would help my party, electorally, to have somebody give them shit about the words they use and how they use them.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

February 4, 2008

Yes, we can, but not all of us did

Y’all have had the opportunity to watch the will.i.am Obama video that has been turning up all over the place. I think it’s a terrific video, but I thought I’d just set down for Gentle Readers my experience of it.

I came to it through the link from Eschaton, to a site called dipdive, which at the time had essentially no text, simply the video with no explanation. And, here’s the thing: I’m old. I stopped acquiring new music (as opposed to old music) at least ten years ago. I stopped watching broadcast television around that time, too. I still watch the occasional movie, but of the umpty-’leven movies that come out in a year, I generally see fewer than a dozen, including watching at home the next year or the year after. In the last couple of weeks, we’ve been on a bit of a movie-watching binge, what with being sick and all; I watched Topper, King Solomon’s Mines (the 1937 one), Torn Curtain, Shall We Dance, Pride and Prejudice (the 1940 one) and My Fair Lady.

So. I do know know what will.i.am looks like. I more or less know who he is, and I can’t swear that I haven’t ever listened to his music, although, again, the last ten artists on the shuffle I’m currently listening to are Carmen McRae, the Hi-Fives, Duke Ellington, Kate Bush, the Kingston Trio, the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, Mabel Mercer, Paul Simon, The Who, Eurythmics and Lena Horne. Or is that eleven? Anyway, I’m (a) old, and (2) not interested in keeping up with music. And white, which plays a part in it, too. But what I’m saying is that my first thought the beginning was not That’s will.i.am but That’s some black dude with a great look. And then as the thing progressed, I was in the frame of thinking that whoever had put this together had got a bunch of people with great looks together to do this thing, making a sort of Mosaic of America kind of thing. That framework prevented me from, for instance, recognizing Kareem Abdul-Jabbar other than as a guy that looked kinda like Kareem. Nor did I recognize Scarlett Johansson, other than as a conventionally pretty young thing. I did notice that many of the people were unusually good-looking, but that seemed like a normal sort of thing. Here’s the point: Your Humble Blogger totally failed to recognize any of the celebrities in the video. Zero. On the first time through. None. At all.

And I loved it. I thought is was wonderful on half-a-dozen levels, a magnificent thing, really moving, and I hoped that with people like Atrios pushing it, the video would get a lot of play and go (as they somewhat disgustingly say) viral. Then I found out who the dude at the front was, and that it had debuted on Good Morning America (or whatever), and that they had essentially infinite resources to make the thing, and I watched it again and recognized half-a-dozen of the people (although I must admit that most of the celebrities I did not recognize, and still don’t know what they look like, nor particularly care), and I was disappointed. Really profoundly disappointed.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s still a lovely piece. It’s not only moving rhetorically, but it’s interesting artistically, using sampling and riffing in a way I find inspired. It’s certainly not a bad thing for celebrities (whether YHB celebrates them or not) to use their various talents or even just their celebrity to improve the country and its politics. And I love the way that the video lauds rhetoric itself, makes the act of speechmaking not only respectable but essential, transformative in itself. All great. No complaints about the video. But my experience of it was a trifle depressing.

Also, there’s this: I have been meaning to write about the way that YouTube (and to a lesser extent, other video sharing on the web) may be very interesting in this political cycle. I had seen a parody ad “for” Mitt Romney which I thought was absolutely hilarious, and it occurred to me that this is something new. In the last few cycles, say two generations or so, almost everything we saw came from the campaigns, filtered somewhat through the news media, with some added stuff from the late-night television comics (which I wanted to write about as well). I think this year, though, it’s likely (not certain, but likely) that some campaign-related video put together by some goofy kids will go all bacteriological or whatever, and that the Al Gore invented the internet catchphrase of this time around will come from nowhere. And the campaigns have this total loose cannon stuff out there, exploitable but not controllable, and they are in a fascinating bind because of course any particular hilarious video has very likely been put together by some loser with a criminal record who also has been editing together anime porn to the Buzzcocks, so the they can’t link directly to the video, but once it catches on, can the candidate refer to it in a stump speech? In response to a reporter’s question, can she admit to having seen it? Can he admit to not having seen it? Lots of fun to be had. But it turns out that this video has nothing to do with that; it’s a good old-fashioned (if brilliant) campaign song.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

January 21, 2008

National Day of Remembrance

I find I have little to add, this Martin Luther King Day to what I said three years ago. If you, Gentle Reader, have a thought to share about Martin Luther King, Jr. and his remembrance, please feel free to share it.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

Edited to add: as usual, a browse through the words of the Reverend King yields new (to me) food for thought.

Every true Christian is a fighting pacifist.

In a very profound passage which has been often misunderstood, Jesus utters this: He says, "Think not that I am come to bring peace. I come not to bring peace but a sword." Certainly, He is not saying that he comes not to bring peace in the higher sense. What He is saying is: "I come not to bring this peace of escapism, this peace that fails to confront the real issues of life, the peace that makes for stagnant complacency." Then He says, "I come to bring a sword" not a physical sword. Whenever I come, a conflict is precipitated between the old and the new, between justice and injustice, between the forces of light and the forces of darkness. I come to declare war over injustice. I come to declare war on evil. Peace is not merely the absence of some negative force--war, tension, confusion, but it is the presence of some positive force--justice, goodwill, the power of the kingdom of God.

29 March 1956


He returns to the theme in A Realistic Look at the Question of Progress in the Area of Race Relations:
For you see, true peace is not merely the absence of some negative force, but it is a presence of some positive force. I think that is what Jesus meant when one day his disciples stood before him with their glittering eyes, wanting to hear something good, and Jesus looked at them and said, in no uncertain terms, "Brethren, I come not to bring peace, but a sword." He didn’t mean, "I come to bring a physical sword." He didn’t mean, "I come not to bring positive peace." What Jesus is saying, "I come not to bring this old negative peace which makes for deadening passivity and stagnant complacently. And whenever I come a conflict is precipitated between the old and the new. Whenever I come, there is a lashing out between justice and injustice. Whenever I come, there is a division between the forces of light and the forces of darkness." Peace is not merely the absence of tension, but it is the presence of justice.

10 April 1957


January 15, 2008

A Short Quiz about Fascism

There’s been a lot of loose talk lately about fascism, and evidently Your Humble Blogger does not feel that there has been enough loose talk about fascism, because here I am, you know, talking loosely.

Here. A short quiz. Give yourself 10 points for every A, five points for every 2, and zero points for every iii. Complete the sentence:

People are different one to another, and that

  • must be dealt with harshly to prevent the degradation of the State
  • confuses me and frightens me a little, although I suppose it takes all kinds
  • makes the world interesting and fun

This has been a short quiz about fascism.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

January 6, 2008

More about Senator Obama

So, Your Humble Blogger has been trying to clarify some of the things I have been feeling about Barack Obama and his campaign. And I think this might help.

One of the tricks of advertising is that, instead of selling your product, you can get people to want to be the type of person who buys your product. Coke, you see, adds life; the ad company associates Coke drinking with a variety of behaviors, conditions and attitudes, and hopes that people who want to be associated with those attitudes will buy Coke. The problem with this is that it doesn’t particularly work. If you don’t like the taste of Coke, you aren’t going to buy it and drink it just because the ads show beautiful people enjoying it.

This doesn’t just come from advertisements, and it doesn’t just work positively. I’ve mentioned before that Toyota has trouble convincing people that buying the Prius doesn’t make them into Prius-people, which would entail carrying a bulk lentils in a hemp bag. On the other side, buying an SUV doesn’t automatically make you vote Republican, or does it? The kind of person who buys books at an independent bookstore—you know that type of person, right? Is that you? Are you the kind of person that watches The Wire or the kind of person that doesn’t know what everybody is talking about? Are you the kind of person that buys recycled paper? Clothes, nightclubs, careers. Residential neighborhoods. Are you the kind of person who lives where you live, who eats what you eat, who lives your lifestyle? Do you want to be?

In politics, I’ve experienced the negative side of this more often. You know the kind of person who voted for John Kerry. Volvo, latte, blah, blah, blah. Nobody wanted to be like that. Particularly the people who voted for Senator Kerry, of course, but there it is, people who drink Coca-Cola aren’t happy and beautiful athletes. And my idea of a person who voted for Our Only President doesn’t have much to do with any actual voters I know.

Now, what I think the Barack Obama campaign has done, and done very well, is to create in my mind and I think in a lot of people’s minds a positive idea of the Barack Obama voter. The Barack Obama voter, part of the Barack Obama movement, is young, smart, good-hearted, hopeful, not overly partisan, and (importantly) not racist. Or sexist, either.

My idea of a John Edwards voter is that he or she is a Democratic leftist, pro-union, angry, maybe a trifle bitter, well-informed, with fairly specific policy desires. Or maybe that’s just me. And my idea of a Hillary Clinton voter is someone older, closer to the Establishment, more cynical, and somewhat inclined to settle.

Please understand: I am not saying that these ideas are accurate. They are not. They are stories I have absorbed about the election. What I am saying is that those stories about the election do have an effect on how people vote. And they have an effect on more than just how we vote. I think they have an effect on how we live.

One thing that a great president can do with the bully pulpit (and wouldn’t it be great if some more recent president had come up with some description of the persuasive power of the office, now that bully is no longer used in any positive sense at all? In fact, from now on, I’m no longer using bully pulpit. From now on, the persuasive power of the presidency will be referred to as the bitchin’ pulpit. Oh, wait, er, no, it won’t.) is to call us to our better selves, to give us an idea of the Americans we want to be, and ask us to be those Americans. I think it’s possible that Barack Obama could do that. I think that he could, possibly, if he is elected, change our ideas of what we are, and what politics is, in a way that would have real effects on how we carry out our daily lives.

Because if he makes us want to be smart, young (at heart), good-hearted, and all that, and we actually make ourselves like that, then, well, that’s an improvement, isn’t it?

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

January 5, 2008

Barack Obama: This was the moment

I had heard wonderful things about Barack Obama’s victory speech in Iowa, and when I watched it, I was moved. It’s a good speech, and a moving speech. But an odd speech. First, the things that aren’t odd. Nobody likes a candidate who puffs himself up and takes credit for a victory. Furthermore, Sen. Obama has positioned himself—no, he has told a story about his candidacy that is about a groundswell of individual and organizational support that has coalesced around him due to his inspirational charisma and history. That is, in this story, the campaign is not about him, but neither does it exist apart from him. He is the spark, the catalyst, the inspiration and the incentive combined. A victory for Sen. Obama is not only the accomplishment of the movement (which is certainly true) but the reward for the movement. And that’s how he begins. Watch Your Humble Blogger’s emphasis added to the text, here.

You know, they said this day would never come. They said our sights were set too high. They said this country was too divided; too disillusioned to ever come together around a common purpose. But on this January night - at this defining moment in history - you have done what the cynics said we couldn't do. You have done what the state of New Hampshire can do in five days. You have done what America can do in this New Year, 2008. In lines that stretched around schools and churches; in small towns and big cities; you came together as Democrats, Republicans and Independents to stand up and say that we are one nation; we are one people; and our time for change has come.

Not too obvious? Well, a little. But it works. In all, out of 1,327 words, 58 are either you or we (I’m not counting the two directed solely at his wife. To his credit, there are only four instances of they, three of which are in the above excerpt. It’s a pretty inclusive we.

I also like his use of repetition: the time has come three times after three introductory uses of this day would never come, too disillusioned to ever come, and our time for change has come. Four uses of I’ll be a President who (I’ll come back to those). Eight uses of moment in a broader theme that comes back to his Our Moment is Now stump speech. Eleven hopes, of course. Three repetitions of I know, which I am a little skeptical about, but he’s talking about shared experience, or trying to. Repetition is always tricky, but if you can use it properly, it’s just about the most powerful trick there is.

Also, pay attention (if you listen to it) to his tone and pitch, it’s remarkable. He has wonderful control. I know I have not been effusive in my praise for the Senator’s speeches in the past, but he really does have a tremendous talent.

Now, the bad part. What exactly is the movement for? In the tiny portion of his address where he flirts with policy and governance he hits four issues that don’t seem to have any connection or any greater purpose. I mean, yes health care and fair taxes and Iraq and especially ending “the tyranny of oil”, but I get no sense that those things are what you have done. This isn’t a movement to get health care, or to bring our boys home and it’s certainly not a movement for a middle-class tax cut. I don’t just say that because Senator Obama’s policies on those things are just a trifle less impressive than John Edward’s policies. I say that because for all that he throws in a health care line into the beautiful (and probably victorious) vision of “years from now”—you know what, let’s just print that bit.

…years from now, when we've made the changes we believe in; when more families can afford to see a doctor; when our children-when Malia and Sasha and your children-inherit a planet that's a little cleaner and safer; when the world sees America differently, and America sees itself as a nation less divided and more united; you'll be able to look back with pride and say that this was the moment when it all began.

This was the moment when the improbable beat what Washington always said was inevitable.

This was the moment when we tore down barriers that have divided us for too long - when we rallied people of all parties and ages to a common cause; when we finally gave Americans who'd never participated in politics a reason to stand up and to do so.

This was the moment when we finally beat back the politics of fear, and doubt, and cynicism; the politics where we tear each other down instead of lifting this country up. This was the moment.

Years from now, you'll look back and you'll say that this was the moment - this was the place—where America remembered what it means to hope.

You see? When we look back at the a