The struggle we are presently engaged in will, I think, go on for some time; personally, I look at it as simply the latest acute phase of a very old struggle. Fatigue will set in, as it does in the later stages of a marathon. Indeed speakers have been calling it a marathon, but the marathon is, despite the crowds, a solitary struggle, and a little while ago a speaker at Tuesdays with Toomey happily pointed out that our present struggle is also a relay. A relay marathon, if you will. We carry the burden together. No one person can attend every rally; yet each of us needs to do whatever he or she can.
With that in mind, here is a story that appeared in the Philadelphia Daily News on January 15, 2014. I am no longer able to locate it online, so I post it here.
Philadelphia, January 2014. It's 13 degrees. It's 6:12 a.m. It's very dark. I'm sitting at the breakfast table with my wife.
"This is insane," I say. She doesn't say anything.
I say, "The only thing more insane is that Congress left last year and didn't renew the extended unemployment."
Lois sips her coffee.
"So I'm going," I say. To D.C., I don't say. On a bus; she knows.
She says, "Isn't it your fifth anniversary this month?'
Five years ago my life changed. My employer of 16 years decided I was excess baggage in a business downturn, and streeted me at the age of 61. Thanks for that.
No, seriously, thanks for that. Then I got to do what I really wanted to do, which was fight for healthcare reform. A whole alphabet soup: PUP (Philadelphia Unemployment Project), HCAN (Health Care for America Now), PHAN (Pennsylvania Health Access Network). Not something I could have done while working for a health insurer.
I think I helped. That's the downside to casting off people like me.
I also collected unemployment. And I looked for work. And I religiously attended the classes at the outplacement agency.
Here's a simple fact of life. When you've been working for 16 years for a company with a reputation for mindless bureaucracy, and you get streeted at 61, your career is over.
The outplacement agency pretended that wasn't true, and for a while I believed them. But in the end I came to accept the facts, even as others continued to deny them.
I collected unemployment for a year and a half, and it was important for me -- not just the money, but the validation that I was still a person. Eventually, with help from PUP, I got a part-time job. It doesn't pay much, but the people are nice, I enjoy the work, and again it's a validation.
And I've spent a lot time over the last five years sitting on buses, sitting in waiting rooms and cafeterias in D.C. and Harrisburg, spending time with people who are actually poor. And I'm here to tell you, you can learn things in your 60's.
Our Puritan forefathers bequeathed us this dichotomy between the deserving poor and the undeserving poor. It's false. There are just the poor. They do what they need to do to survive. And it's not middle class, and it's not pretty. But I find myself loving every one of them, not just the lovable ones, not just the deserving.
The rich, on the other hand, have been getting away with murder in this country. We can get distracted by their demonization of the poor, but what would happen if we carried the Puritan battle to them?
How many of the rich deserve to be rich? There's a whole school of theologians who say that wealth is a signal that God likes you, but what would Jesus say to that? Or St. Francis? Or the pope?
Dear me, I'm turning into an aging radical. I got on the bus and got to sit in a room in Washington with a bunch of senators and representatives and poor people and lots and lots of cameras. And maybe it made a difference.
See also For Athena.
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
I had actually expected Bannon and Co. to do roundups of Mexicans in Arizona or Texas - someplace where the local officials and the cops would be friendly and the network TV cameras would be far away. It's true that even poor, undocumented Mexican immigrants have smart phones and can post video online, but they don't have the connections of a Cleveland Clinic doctor and her lawyer. We're talking about a largely powerless, vulnerable group of people.
So pick a small town somewhere down by the Rio Grande. At dusk you close the roads in and out; then you encircle the town. By now you've disabled the cellphone towers, the landlines, the electricity. I suppose you could turn off the water if you really wanted to, assuming the town was rich enough to have a centralized water distribution system.
Then you go through the town, house by house, with warrants issued by a friendly judge, and you ask people for their papers. Those without papers get on the bus. If you're feeling energetic, those with papers miraculously lose them and get on the bus too. Best, really, if everybody goes.
By dawn you're gone, leaving behind a ghost town.
You'll have ways of letting your supporters know about this exploit. They'll be thrilled. But the general population won't hear much, and that will allow most of us to pretend that it didn't happen, or it wasn't as bad as people say. If history is any guide, many people will be happy to turn a blind eye.
In writing this, I was thinking constantly about certain events during World War II - the Rafle du Vel' d'Hiv in Paris and the obliteration of the Czech village of Lidice. Make no mistake. The people in the White House may be illiterate and incompetent, but they are very dangerous.
Monday, February 13, 2017
|Zipperhead, South Street, Philadelphia, 1985.|
A few days ago, U.S. Senator Patrick Toomey (R, Pa.) compared my son to a burnt-down house. Mr. Toomey doesn't know my son and didn't refer to him by name. He was talking - in that abstract way characteristic of aspiring political philosophers - about people with pre-existing medical conditions. My son has a pre-existing condition. Forgive me if I am so bold as to connect the dots.
Comparing a human being to a burnt-down house is of course offensive, but it is also, I would argue, a misleading analogy that takes us places we don't want to go.
Lesson number one, Senator. People are not inanimate objects. They are not blocks of wood. They are not many blocks of wood - 2x4s, floorboards, siding, shingles - all nailed together with those snazzy new nail guns. People are people. They breathe, they bleed.
Really, if you want to float an analogy of writing fire insurance on a burnt-down house, you should probably tie it to selling life insurance to a dead man. Personally I wouldn't go there, but it does make more sense than comparing a dead house to a living person.
As for writing health insurance for people with pre-existing conditions, a better analogy would probably be flood insurance. Again, not perfect, but at its base flood insurance is about restoring and maintaining communities. It is about life.
Nowadays, flood insurance largely comes from the federal government through something called the National Flood Insurance Program. Why is this? Well, here is a little fact that people tend to overlook: Insurance companies are in business to make money. And here is a corollary: If they can't make money in a particular market, they exit the market.
But that doesn't mean that the need goes away. People are still going to want to rebuild. It's easy enough to argue against rebuilding in a flood plain - I still do it occasionally - but a strong consensus has evolved over the years, and so the government has stepped into the void left by the insurance companies.
The same thing has also happened in a number of areas of health insurance. Just look at Medicare and Medicaid. The government stepped in to fill a void.
So let's look at those pesky pre-existing conditions again. Insurance companies really, really don't want to cover them. So what are we going to do, let these people die? This would be the burnt-down house path. There seems to be a consensus against it. Even Senator Toomey appears to be concerned about the optics of just letting people die.
The only way to resolve this tension is for the government to enter the void. This would be the flood insurance path.
There's an interesting lesson in rhetoric here. Compare health insurance to fire insurance, and the logic of your argument is that we should let certain people die. Compare it to flood insurance, and the logic is to support life.
Pick the wrong analogy, and you can easily go down the wrong road.
Sunday, February 5, 2017
|Philadelphia, Saturday, February 4, 2017|
I believe there were between 1,000 and 2,000 participants, mainly young, from just about everywhere around the globe. One speaker said he was Irish-American and his family came here a long time ago; his grandfather spent a week living in a tree in Normandy, fighting to protect our freedoms; and he suggested we should now fight to protect those same freedoms.
I need to say that this was a happy, funny rally. Lots of jokes and lots of laughter. I left feeling good about the future. It'll be a tough fight, for sure, but we have the happy warriors.
In less than two weeks, Donald has unified and energized his opposition. How did he do that? Let me suggest sheer incompetence.
For your debut act of persecution, you decide to turn certain immigrants away from our borders. Well, let's just look at this for a minute as a military operation. Geography is very important to soldiers. The first thing you need to do when planning an operation is define the battlefield.
So our battlefield is every port of entry - airport, seaport, border crossing - in the country. Actually it's a whole series of disconnected battlefields in a war zone that, on a map, would look like a bad case of chicken pox. How are you even going to keep track of all that, let alone exercise effective command?
The second thing you need to do is control the battlefield. Let's just look at John F. Kennedy International Airport in the New York City borough of Queens. How are Donald and Steve Bannon going to control that particular battlefield?
You might as well try to control the Mississippi River. You've got some immigration guys, that's true. But you don't have the local officials or the police, and you have a vast number of travelers who are about to become very annoyed by the obstructions that occur when protesters and immigration lawyers appear in large numbers - something you can't prevent.
You don't control the ground. And your enemy receives continuous reinforcements. To switch to Dulles and Philadelphia International for a minute, you may even have a U.S. Senator show up to oppose the ban.
Okay, you're essentially screwed. Basic doctrine calls for you to unify your own forces and divide the enemy. Instead, you do the opposite.
The theory of persecution also calls for you to select victims who can be demonized. Instead, according to the New York Times, you grab a young woman who is a doctor at the Cleveland Clinic. She has been home visiting family, and she is returning to her job, her fiance, her apartment, her car. Sounds like a pretty relatable person to me.
And you fail to objectify her. Instead, you hold her for six hours and then march her under guard to a plane headed back out of the country, all while her attorney is telling you that a judge is about to hand down an order. It appears the doctor may actually have been deported after the order was issued.
Another old military adage is Know your enemy. It appears that Bannon and Co. never bothered to look at who the people were that they were planning to persecute.
Yes, you're really screwed.
I suppose that, on one level, we're very lucky that Bannon and Co. are incompetent. But unfortunately their incompetence is unlikely to be limited to the persecution of minorities. They are, in fact, supposed to be running the country. They're in the driver's seat, but they don't know how to drive. And that means we're all going in the ditch. Brace for impact.
See also Lidice and the Power of Nothing, Fascism, Even Worse Than I Thought.