Via Roy Edroso, Ross Douthat claims that “the GOP is now a working-class party.” The linked article, as you might suspect, does little to actually substantiate the claim as it is riddled with obvious errors, such as ignoring the fact that donations need to be a minimum level to be reported, not accounting for the fact that Democrats have substantially more donations in total, etc. The key strategy, though, is to define “working class” by a series of arbitrarily chosen professions rather than by income, which is crucial. After all, when it comes to actual support at the ballot box Republican support consistently increases as income level does, and this has been the case since 1972.
Douthat anticipates the objection, saying that he’s using “class defined by education and culture more than income, just to be clear; there are plenty of skilled craftsmen who make more money than teachers and journalists and academics.” But while I can understand not wanting to reduce “class” solely to income, to count people with well-above-median incomes as “working class” is to distort the term beyond its usual meaning. Even more problematically, to define class by “culture” is just a straightforward tautology. I concede that if one defines people with reactionary cultural views as “working class” this makes the GOP much more working class, but obviously this isn’t a very useful definition.
I’ll have more to see about Larry Bartels’s fine new book later, but this also seems like a good time to mention his finding that people with high incomes are more likely to vote on cultural issues than people with lower incomes.
I finally picked up my copy of Rick Perlstein’s new book, which I’ve been looking forward to for a while. I was also happy to see it get the front-page slot in the Times book review, although it might have been preferable for the gig to go to someone other than
skin care consultant Rowena syndicated columnist William F. George. Although I suppose once you consider the plausible set of “people Tanenhaus would choose to review a major new book by a liberal,” it could have been a lot worse…
Theodore Roosevelt, in a message to Congress following the eruption of Mont Pele on the island of Martinique, 12 May 1902:
One of the greatest calamities in history has fallen upon our neighboring island of Martinique. The consul of the United States at Guadeloupe has telegraphed from Fort de France, under date of yesterday, that the disaster is complete; that the city of St. Pierre has ceased to exist; and that the American consul and his family have perished. He is informed that 30,000 people have lost their lives and that 50,000 are homeless and hungry; that there is urgent need of all kinds of provisions, and that the visit of vessels for the work of supply and rescue is imperatively required . . . .
I have directed the departments of the Treasury, of War, and of the Navy to take such measures for the relief of these stricken people as lies within the Executive discretion, and I earnestly commend this case of unexampled disaster to the generous consideration of the Congress. For this purpose I recommend that an appropriation of $500,000 be made, to be immediately available.
I haven’t read enough Edward Luttwak to say for certain that he’s an unprincipled hack, but I know enough to be certain that his knowledge of Islamic law and religion is insufficient for the forum he’s been offered. His central premise is almost too laughable for commentary; he insists not only that Barack Obama not only would be unlikely to improve the standing of the US in the Middle East, but that a disputed fact about Obama’s religious biography — an irrelevance that matters only to non-Muslim American wingnuts — would motivate swarms of assassins into actions.
I won’t bother to psychoanalyze Luttwak’s fantasy here, since it would obviously be improper to suggest that he or anyone else dreams of Barack Obama’s violent death at the hands of religious zealots. But the fact that New York Times would publish what essentially amounts to a recycled Daniel Pipes column — originally published in Front Page Magazine, no less — is really goddamned pathetic.
Via Roy, it looks as if K-Lo got stood up in favor of the Drive By Truckers. In response to her invitation to young conservatives to head to a fundraiser being put on by Elayne (Mrs. Bill) Bennett (no word on whether the fundraiser involved $50 a pull slot machines), John Miller responded:
Sorry K Lo, but the rest of us will be at the Drive-By Truckers show in
Like Roy, this immediately made me wonder if a) John Miller isn’t the aesthetic Stalinist that I had pretty much figured everyone at the Corner to be, or b) if Miller had somehow managed to convince himself that the Truckers were a right-wing populist band. Given that Miller is the author of the “50 Greatest Conservative Rock Songs” list, I’m betting pretty heavily on the latter. I suppose if you employ the following logic…
George Wallace was a Democrat, and Patterson Hood hates George Wallace, therefore Patterson Hood must be a Republican
…then it would all make sense, but then again you really have to work to get around the lyrics of That Man I Shot, or particularly Puttin’ People on the Moon. The latter is certainly populist, but it’s about as clear an evocation of left-wing populism as I can imagine, especially since Hood has taken to replacing “Another joker in the White House” with “Another Bush is in the White House” while singing the song live.
Roy’s further thoughts:
Self-awareness may slap one upside the head at any time. It may be that Miller and whatever other young rightwingers he convinced to see DBT with him are full of regrets. Maybe they were surprised that the crowd did not see the Confederate angle on Southern Rock the same way Miller did. Maybe the crowd took it amiss when Miller and his friends booed and yelled “Democracy Whiskey Sexy” during “That Man I Shot.”
Open Left had a VP poll, which forced me to actually follow through and evaluate candidates based on limited information. My ballot (with any candidates I gave any consideration to included depending on who gets eliminated in future ballots):
|1st||Janet Napolitano (Gov-AZ)|
|2nd||Kathleen Sebelius (Gov-KS)|
|3rd||Brian Schweitzer (Gov-MT)|
|4th||Ted Strickland (Gov-OH)|
|5th||Bill Richardson (Gov-NM)|
|6th||Tim Kaine (Gov-VA)|
|7th||Wes Clark (Gen-AR)|
|8th||Hillary Clinton (Sen-NY)|
I basically eliminated the entire class of swing state Senators because any progressive legislation can’t afford to sacrifice any Senate votes, and I don’t see any of them having advantages compelling enough to compensate. I would also say that my preference rankings–especially within the top 5–are pretty weak. I could live with anybody on this list and none of them seems like a no-brainer. (I might have Sebelius too high because I think it makes sense to go with someone who might carry a swing state all things being equal, but given her connections there I’m assuming she might help carry Ohio. I’m not especially worried about her State of the Union response.)
…Having looked a little more into Strickland’s record on reproductive freedom in response to a commenter, I retract my endorsement.
Remember that trip to Puerto Rico that I mentioned I was taking a while back once I had finished law school? Well, I finished law school today and I’m taking that trip first thing tomorrow morning (6AM, baby!). So unless the spirit moves me, I won’t be seen around these parts until Friday night at the earliest — or more likely, next weekend.
Hope you all have a good week. The new, lawyer bean will return next week.
There is a bit of a brouhaha in Cincinnati over some recent comments by Ken Griffey Jr., to the effect that he thinks he was lied to by Cincinnati management. Griffey’s claim is that the Reds promised to build a strong team around him, but never had any intention to do so. Now, Griffey’s claim is problematic for a lot of different reasons; Seattle had gone to the playoffs twice in the four years previous to his trade, had a brand new stadium, and had made clear the intention to spend quite a lot on improving the team, so the idea that Griffey had to leave Seattle in order to “play for a winner” is absurd on its face. But let’s set that aside for a moment and see if Griffey had a case. Of course, part of the reason that the Reds haven’t contended is because Griffey’s Cincy performance has never matched his Seattle performance. But could the Reds have won even with a very strong Griffey? Here’s the Reds records since Griffey arrived, games behind the wild card, Griffey’s WARP (Wins Above Replacement), a plausible projected healthy Griffey WARP, and the difference if Griffey had been healthy:
|Wins||Losses||GB WC||Grif WARP||Exp. WARP||Diff.||Ad. GB|
Now, there are some Reds friendly assumptions in this table, most notably that anytime Griffey didn’t play (most of several seasons) his replacement was, well, replacement level; I don’t have the time to go back and check on the validity of that assumption (I suppose it’s possible that his replacements were below replacement level), but I doubt it would change very much. The basic story here is that Griffey is more or less correct about the management of the Reds. Even performing at a level that’s probably optimistic for an aging ballplayer, Griffey could not have led the Reds to the playoffs in any year other than 2006. Interestingly enough, Griffey played 109 games that year, the problem being that he was pretty terrible. If he had played at his 2005 or 2007 level, the Reds might very well have beaten the Cardinals and gone to the playoffs. And the Cardinals, of course, managed somehow to win the World Series that year, despite being the weakest entrant into the playoff field. It’s worth noting, however, that the 2006 Reds team was pretty lucky, with a real record 4 games above its pythagorean record.
Still, I have to think that Griffey was right about Reds management being unserious about putting a winning team in the field. Griffey’s problem is that he completely misestimated the relative strength of the Reds and Mariners franchises; both had gone to the playoffs in 1995, but the Mariners had gone in 1997, would go again in 2000 and 2001, and would be competitive all the way up until 2003. Of course, one reason they would be so competitive is that Mike Cameron (who the Ms got in the Griffey trade) was better than Griffey every year except for 2000, and usually much, much better. Nevertheless, it’s hardly Griffey’s fault that the Reds failed to contend; even if he had done what was expected (and performed at a level which would have justified his contract), the Reds still would have lost almost every year.
The Great Experiment, by Strobe Talbott, is one in a broad family of books written by former executive branch officials about their experiences with power. These books often contain some theoretical noodling, bits and pieces of biographical detail, a few mildly interesting anecdotes within a jury-rigged “idea” that purports to hold the whole thing together. Probably 90% of the members of this family are almost suicidally boring, but occasional you’ll find one by someone who really has something to say, and manages to do so in an interesting and forthright manner.
Tragically, The Great Experiment is not one of these outliers. Rather, it is firmly within the ersatz Ambien family. The great experiment, according to Talbott, is the group; the idea that ever larger communities of people can hold together in more or less stable groupings over an extended period of time. From the dawn of agriculture until now, such groupings have included empires, city states, and nations. The future of such communities is, according to Talbott, international organizations such as the United Nations. This story fills the first half of the book, and contains a few tangential citations of the extraordinarily vast literature on statebuilding and community formation; Talbott indicates, for example, that he’s read at least some of the works of Benedict Anderson, although the book betrays no great understanding of the arguments contained therein. As such, the first half of the book is pretty much entirely worthless to anyone with an academic knowledge of the subject, and pretty misleading to anyone without such a background.
The second half of the book concerns Talbott’s direct experience in and around the Clinton administration, and is mildly more interesting. We learn a bit, for example, about the influence that Al Gore had in the administration, and about the White House’s relationship with the media. On the latter Talbott is careful to demonstrate his credentials as a Washington insider, noting that he regularly plays chess and conducts civil political conversations with Chucky Krauthammer. Talbott also includes a series of critiques of the Bush administration from the point of view of a Clinton administration official, critiques which are somewhat interesting but not terribly novel or illuminating. They are the sort of wonky, margin-emphasizing critiques that you would expect from someone who is, broadly, within the community of Democratic foreign policy thinkers that found itself flummoxed by the charge for the Iraq War, and utterly incapable of understanding what the Bush administration was trying to do.
I am largely sympathetic with his basic policy argument, which is that the continuing institutionalization of the international system is a positive thing, and ought to be pursued. To make this case in the contemporary American context, however, you have to do better than painting a broad historical stroke, then explaining that international institutions are the natural end state of human kind. It simply isn’t true that we’ve steadily been moving towards larger human groupings; the Roman Empire, the China-centric state system that held in the Far East, the Habsburg Empire, and perhaps most notably medieval Christendom all represented quasi-institutional efforts that waxed and waned over time. The historical story doesn’t tell us what Talbott wants it to tell us, and consequently can’t carry the weight that he places on it. International institutions can be argued for on their own merits, apart from any teleological narrative that’s supposed to make them quasi-inevitable.
To sum up, if you have trouble sleeping but can’t get another prescription, check out The Great Experiment. If not, avoid it like the plague.