Friday, August 12, 2005
Moral revival?/Not with both eyes open
From the Minneapolis Star Tribune:
On the opposite page, columnist David Brooks has noticed that Americans are living in the midst of a moral revival. With one eye open, he runs through a litany of good news. Family violence has declined since the early 1990s. So have violent crime, drunken driving fatalities, teen pregnancy, teen suicide, abortion, sexual promiscuity, divorce and so on.
These are indeed wonderful trends to celebrate. And, as Brooks suggests, they are part of an improved climate of private virtue.
But Brooks sees only half the picture. If he opened his other eye -- his eye on public virtue -- his claims of a clear moral revival would quickly blur.
Let's look at the public side. Is it moral to lead a nation to war based on false and selective information? Is it virtuous to pursue policies that eliminate medical care for the poorest people? Where's the morality in lavishing ever more tax advantages on the wealthy while the economy produces more inequality and less social mobility? Is it virtuous to steal millions from employees, pensioners and stockholders in the name of free enterprise?
Is it right to systematically abuse prisoners and detainees? Is it moral to advocate policies that irreparably damage the environment? Can it be honest to blithely deny the overwhelming scientific evidence of global warming and evolution? Is it acceptable to spread rumors and lies about your political opponent in order to get votes? How is it OK to exploit prejudices against people of a different sexual orientation to further your political gains?
Is it not arrogant and presumptuous for leaders to declare "God bless America" when, perhaps, America should worry whether its public actions in the world match up to its claims of divine guidance and match up to its progress on private virtue?
In posing these questions, we make no claims of moral superiority. We simply seek a wider view. As Brooks suggests, a revival in private morality is a wonderful thing. If that revival is truly genuine it will soon spread to the public side. When it does we can all rejoice.
On the opposite page, columnist David Brooks has noticed that Americans are living in the midst of a moral revival. With one eye open, he runs through a litany of good news. Family violence has declined since the early 1990s. So have violent crime, drunken driving fatalities, teen pregnancy, teen suicide, abortion, sexual promiscuity, divorce and so on.
These are indeed wonderful trends to celebrate. And, as Brooks suggests, they are part of an improved climate of private virtue.
But Brooks sees only half the picture. If he opened his other eye -- his eye on public virtue -- his claims of a clear moral revival would quickly blur.
Let's look at the public side. Is it moral to lead a nation to war based on false and selective information? Is it virtuous to pursue policies that eliminate medical care for the poorest people? Where's the morality in lavishing ever more tax advantages on the wealthy while the economy produces more inequality and less social mobility? Is it virtuous to steal millions from employees, pensioners and stockholders in the name of free enterprise?
Is it right to systematically abuse prisoners and detainees? Is it moral to advocate policies that irreparably damage the environment? Can it be honest to blithely deny the overwhelming scientific evidence of global warming and evolution? Is it acceptable to spread rumors and lies about your political opponent in order to get votes? How is it OK to exploit prejudices against people of a different sexual orientation to further your political gains?
Is it not arrogant and presumptuous for leaders to declare "God bless America" when, perhaps, America should worry whether its public actions in the world match up to its claims of divine guidance and match up to its progress on private virtue?
In posing these questions, we make no claims of moral superiority. We simply seek a wider view. As Brooks suggests, a revival in private morality is a wonderful thing. If that revival is truly genuine it will soon spread to the public side. When it does we can all rejoice.
Welcome to the Republican version of Tammany Hall politics.
From pm carpenter, commentary about David Frum's scathing deconstruction of modern phony conservatives:
Frum....wrote a book about modern conservatism that displeased his right-wing friends more than anyone.
Why? Because he outed them for their past hypocrisy, for what they had become, and for what they’re likely to remain - ideological traitors steeped in big government and big spending. Though a bit dated now, Dead Right (1994) is required reading for anyone interested in an internal analysis of what’s wrong with modern conservatism.
Written from a decidedly libertarian slant, which is admittedly hostile to social conservatism, Frum ripped into the latter as a cynical diversion hatched in the 1980s by economic conservatives who had botched their fathers’ faith. “Mere posturing,” he called all the cultural claptrap - a posture affected simply because “the conservatives failed to do their job”: that of reining in government spending under the Reagan administration.
With the Gipper snug in the White House, wrote Frum, federal spending exploded in a Republican effort to shore up and expand its constituencies (especially farmers, pensioners and veterans) and to hell with the fiscal consequences. Politics trumped policy. And you couldn’t blame congressional Democrats for the big spending, he said of that old dodge. The fault lay directly on Republican shoulders, which relied on supply-side economics to do what less spending should have done. But when the materialistic “cult of Reaganism” fell under attack, conservatives responded en masse by fixating on cultural disturbances (Frum’s timeline; not mine). Hence social conservatism was launched as the Great Diversion, although it was traditional conservatism that had undergone an even greater disturbance. In short, said Frum, Republicans had grown as politically ingratiating as big-government Democrats.
more....
Frum....wrote a book about modern conservatism that displeased his right-wing friends more than anyone.
Why? Because he outed them for their past hypocrisy, for what they had become, and for what they’re likely to remain - ideological traitors steeped in big government and big spending. Though a bit dated now, Dead Right (1994) is required reading for anyone interested in an internal analysis of what’s wrong with modern conservatism.
Written from a decidedly libertarian slant, which is admittedly hostile to social conservatism, Frum ripped into the latter as a cynical diversion hatched in the 1980s by economic conservatives who had botched their fathers’ faith. “Mere posturing,” he called all the cultural claptrap - a posture affected simply because “the conservatives failed to do their job”: that of reining in government spending under the Reagan administration.
With the Gipper snug in the White House, wrote Frum, federal spending exploded in a Republican effort to shore up and expand its constituencies (especially farmers, pensioners and veterans) and to hell with the fiscal consequences. Politics trumped policy. And you couldn’t blame congressional Democrats for the big spending, he said of that old dodge. The fault lay directly on Republican shoulders, which relied on supply-side economics to do what less spending should have done. But when the materialistic “cult of Reaganism” fell under attack, conservatives responded en masse by fixating on cultural disturbances (Frum’s timeline; not mine). Hence social conservatism was launched as the Great Diversion, although it was traditional conservatism that had undergone an even greater disturbance. In short, said Frum, Republicans had grown as politically ingratiating as big-government Democrats.
more....
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Ten years since old Jer kicked the bucket
From Hunter...
A persistent image I have of Jerry which seems strangely resonant with his coming and going: a brilliant sunny day on a boat bobbing above the abyss of Molokini where the floor of the ocean suddenly drops off a cliff and plunges to unknown depths, I watch him check his gear then sit on the edge of the boat and tumble over backwards into the water, which is clear to a depth of several hundred feet. I watch him dwindle in size as he descends further and further, spread eagle and motionless, until he is only a speck to the eye, then disappears altogether from view and there is no more Jerry, only ocean.
A persistent image I have of Jerry which seems strangely resonant with his coming and going: a brilliant sunny day on a boat bobbing above the abyss of Molokini where the floor of the ocean suddenly drops off a cliff and plunges to unknown depths, I watch him check his gear then sit on the edge of the boat and tumble over backwards into the water, which is clear to a depth of several hundred feet. I watch him dwindle in size as he descends further and further, spread eagle and motionless, until he is only a speck to the eye, then disappears altogether from view and there is no more Jerry, only ocean.
