A Framework for Analyzing the Issues Raised by the Tea Party

I wrote this last month for myself--to get my thoughts organized. It is long for a blog post, but here it is.

The Tea Party movement has been characterized as many things, by its friends as well as its enemies. At its heart, though, is anger over the growth of government's role in American life. Tea Partiers see symptoms of this in the expansion of the laws and regulations that they must follow and in the increase in the amount of taxes that they must pay.

This anger is not always expressed temperately. It runs too high. Nor are those in the Tea Party movement or aligned with it always consistent. The movement is too diffuse. Consequently, other issues get attached to the Tea Party name, at least by those outside the movement. Some, of these issues, like race and immigration, and some of the language used elicit knee-jerk hostility from those on the other side.

But the Tea Party movement's basic issue―the role of government―is one that should be debated by the American polity. A consensus is needed―a new one―that we as Americans can live with. In truth, this issue is not a new one. It is perennial. It has also been central to American history from the time the Pilgrims first stepped on Plymouth Rock. To that end, let me suggest a framework that we can use to address this.

This framework outlined here will be abstract, the language, dispassionate. It is not meant to address the specific issues the Tea Party movement raises. It will not be useful if you want to simply dismiss the Tea Party movement as crazies or as mere proxies for the right-wing rich. You shouldn't. They aren't. The issues they raise affect us all; the Tea Party movement's point of view deserves to be taken seriously. We need to address the issues and engage the people. Beneath the rhetoric, beyond the hysteria, there may be common ground.

What Is Government?

Government is an elephant, one might say. Certainly the Tea Party movement sees it as clumsy and gargantuan. The movement and its allies view it as too big and too clumsy for the country's good. But it is also an elephant in the sense of the Chinese story of the blind wise men, each of whom touch a part of it and conclude that the whole is like that part―the trunk, a tusk, the tail, the back. Of course, the elephant is all these things.

And so we see the government as bureaucracy, as laws and regulations, as the expression of the people's will, and dozens of other things besides. Many of these definitions can, indeed, included in any complete definition of what government is. Let me step back and offer another way of looking at government.

A good place to begin is with the sociologist Weber. Government, he said, has a bureaucracy and a legal order. It alone has the legitimate right to use force. Government also claims binding authority over everyone within a particular geographic area. That is, if you live in California, the state government claims authority over you; if you live in the United States, the Federal government does.

All four characteristics are important. Possession of the right to use force is essential. It backs up the last characteristic. That characteristic, the claim to binding authority, is the essential difference between the private and public in this context. You must do what the government says, whether or not you agree. No other part of society (aside from parents) makes that claim without implicitly calling on government's authority. They make rules; only the government makes law.

What Should Society Care About?

Each of us makes hundreds of decisions each day. Many we leave to habit, such as which side of the bed we climb out of in the morning. Many we leave to others―family, friends, neighbors associates, organizations that touch our lives, the government. Those others, broadly speaking, are society. There are simply some matters in life that we need help wit, this raises two questions:

• What should society leave to us as individuals?

• What should society take to itself to manage?

These are the broadest of questions. After all, society is everyone else and society has an interest in most of what we do. Even a decision not to brush your teeth may offend friends and family, that is, a small portion of society. But the truth is that while people might complain about such a decision,, society leaves most of what we do to us. We are free to make fools of ourselves. And we are free to do so in numerous ways.

How Can Society Manage What It Cares About?

But how does society 'manage' things? That is, 'society' may want people to make certain choices, certain decisions. It may want people to behave in certain ways. If so, how does it make that happen?

In the most general sense, society rewards what it wants and punishes what it does not. But who (or what) is it? can be divided into four parts, when looked at from wherever we stand. Three of these are: those around us, organizations we belong to, and―drum roll, please―government. Each of these three parts of society has different ways of deciding what it cares about and how it can reward or punish you.

Government, of course, has laws, passed by legislators. These are executed by other parts of government, including bureaucrats. Regulation is one of their tools. Enforcers―police, the armed forces, the tax man―punish unwanted behavior. After all, they, collectively, have the legitimate right to use force. Rewards are issued by bureaucrats, that same tax man, and others.

The organizations we belong to often manage just a small set of the things we do. But not always. We might, for example, join a church and follow its precepts in all aspects of our life. No matter: how much we give up to any private organization is a matter of choice. The organization will determine the rewards and punishments it can mete out. You can accept those rewards or punishments or leave the organization. It doesn't have the authority―the right―to make you stay.

Those around us―family, friends, neighbors, associates, strangers we encounter--operate much as organizations to, but much less formally. What they care about is often set by custom or tradition, both of which can change greatly over time. Rewards and punishments include smiles, hugs, and kind words; scowls, slaps, and insults. You can accept these, too, or leave.

I said that there are four parts of society, but I've named only three. The fourth is more amorphous. In fact, it encompasses all of the above. This is all of us as separate, independent individuals. You might call it 'the mass of us.' This mass can be sliced or diced in different ways, according to the context. This is the part of society that defines us as voters, consumers or producers, workers or managers, buyers or sellers.

How does this part of society decide what it cares about? How does it reward or punish? Everything this part of society does is the agglomeration of decisions by individuals. Those decisions affect and are affected by the group of people around us and the organizations we have joined. They are also affected by what government does. Indeed, much of what government does is designed to affect us en masse. Because we live in a democracy, this agglomeration of decisions also affects government, though which of the slices and dices affect it can be a matter of contention. Many who support the Tea Party see government dominated by an elite they find alien; many who oppose it see it dominated by 'special interests' alien to them.

What Does Society Care About?

In 1919, society decided that it cared whether people drank. It passed Prohibition. In 1934 it decided otherwise and repealed it. Society no longer cared. At least it did not care enough to do anything about it. Of course, it was a little more complicated than that. Parts of American society have always cared. Those around Carrie Nation cared deeply about the consumption of alcohol before 1919. So did brewers and vintners. Those who lived in dry counties after Prohibition was repealed still cared about the consumption of alcohol. So do brewers and vintners.

When measured by the laws enacted, the concerns that society has decided cannot be left to the individual have shown a more or less steady increase since sometime in the 19th century. In particular, as any Tea Party support can show, there can be little doubt that the concerns taken up by the Federal Government have increased. That trend, in fact, can be traced as far back as the Civil War. The expansion of the Federal government since FDR became president has been well documented.

But the concerns of society have shrunk in some cases as well. Prohibition is one example. Blue laws that forbid activity on Sunday are another. Not long ago, one could not shop on a Sunday in many cities and states. In the last thirty years or so, that has changed. Now, for many, Sunday is now a shopping day like any other. Society, as a whole, no longer cares whether you limit your activities on the Christian Sabbath.

Banking regulation is another example. The Glass-Steagal Act was passed during the Depression to limit the speculative activities of banks. Government acted to allay society's concern that the banks were playing too freely with their depositor's money. By 1999, that concern had passed. The act was effectively repealed in 1999 when the Gramm-Leach-Bliley Act was passed by a Republican congress and signed by a Democratic president. The recent financial crisis has revived that concern and led, once again, to another act of Congress.

These examples are designed to show simply that what our society, cares about, how much it cares about it, and which part of society care about it changes constantly. Much of what the Tea Party gets angry about has to with these changes. They see government, especially the Federal government, expanding the number of its concerns and taking up action on those concerns, taking over responsibilities that had been left to other parts of society. There is truth to that perception. Whether government should have done that is a matter for argument.

The actions of the Obama administration have been an extension of that trend. They have, therefore, been the particular focus of those, in the Tea Party and outside it, who see government action as harmful to the society within which we all live. The Health Care Bill, with its requirement that people buy insurance; the takeover of GM and Chrysler; the interventions in the financial industry are all extensions of the powers of the Federal government that the Tea Party movement questions.


Can Government Do Anything Good?

Even if could all agree on what the society should be concerned with, the question of which parts of society should act on those concerns would still arise. The Tea Party movement asserts that action on most concerns should be left to the private sector. So does most of the Republican Party. They will often argue that the free market can best determine how to manage society's concerns. They will usually put this argument in terms of efficacy. That is, if you want it done right, let the private sector do it, because the government can't do it effectively, cheaply, and for the benefit of all.

Both the Tea Party movement and the Republican Party argue, with some justification, that Democrats tend to fall back on government, the Federal Government in particular, as the best means for managing society's concerns. Democrats might argue that government action can be cost-effective and that the private sector can't be counted on to act for the benefit of all.

At bottom, the arguments of the two sides rest on opposing principles. One is the principle of the invisible hand:

• If everyone acts to further their own interests, the common good is served.

This principle has been around at least since Adam Smith published The Wealth of Nations in 1776. It is the cornerstone of economic theory of all schools, whether Friedmanite or Keynesian. And it is central to the thinking of the Tea Party movement.

The opposite principle is both older and newer than the invisible hand:

• If everyone acts to further their own interests, the common good is injured.

Hobbes argued this principle at length in the 17th Century. He said that if everyone acted without constraint, in their own interests, society would find that everyone would be at war―literally--with everyone else. That made big government―the Leviathan--necessary.

A milder version, more relevant to the issues addressed here, dates from 1968, when Garrett Hardin discussed the tragedy of the commons. One of the examples he uses is the national parks. Many are beautiful, but if visited by everyone with no limits, much of that beauty would be lost. Some higher authority--government, perhaps--is needed to maintain a beauty that most of us would want to see maintained.

Each of these principles is valid in part. Neither is completely valid. Either or both can be pertinent when figuring out how to address any of society's concerns. Whether private action benefits or harms the common good in fact depends on a number of things. Among these are the virtues and flaws of the part of society called upon to address the concern at issue. It also depends on which values society values most in that particular case.

In Principle: Let the Private Sector Do It
The principle of the invisible hand is at the heart of the free market system. Without it, that system could not work. With it, an economy can produce things efficiently, so that it can produce the best goods at the least price. The prosperity of this country is built on that principle, as Tea Party supporters will affirm.

Efficiency is what the private economy excels at. In this, government cannot be its equal. After all, agencies live, not by the bottom line, but by the next appropriations bill. The private sector of the economy must profit to survive: firms that have no profits, die. This is something else the Tea Party movement knows well. Indeed, a number of conservatives, not just Tea Party supporters, dedicated to private enterprise, believe that a proper reaction to many of the economic problems of the last few years was simply to let firms die. Even goliaths like General Motors and Citibank.

Another economist, Joseph Schumpeter, called such deaths creative destruction. A firm like Polaroid can die, but its place will be taken by new ones that will take us into this future. This, too, is something the private sector does well and the public sector poorly. It is essential if economic progress is to be made. But government has no effective, consistent means for choosing which firms should stay in business and which should not. The market―free enterprise―does. That means is the bottom line―profit and loss, revealing the beneficent side of the invisible hand.

The principle of the invisible hand assumes some things about the market. One essential assumption is that the market is competitive. An associated assumption is that there are no secrets about demand, supply, or price. This means that no firm can manipulate prices or supplies unfairly, to the detriment of other firms in its market or consumers (that part of “the mass of us”). Each firm can eke out the profits it requires to the benefit of all. Under these conditions, the Gekko Corollary to the principle of the invisible hand becomes effective: Greed is good.

In contrast, a monopoly guides itself. It needs no invisible hand. If profits fall, it can raise prices. Consumers have no option if they want or need that good or service. A monopoly can act as it will, with little regard to efficiency or to the concerns of society, unless those around all of us act together (an effort difficult to achieve, as numerous attempted boycotts have shown), or government acts. And, of course, a monopoly, too big to fail, at least in its own eyes, can wield influence on those, in government and out, who might try to constrain it.

A spectrum of competition lies between a completely competitive market and a monopoly lies. The closer to monopoly a market gets, the less the principle of the invisible hand applies. It becomes more likely that we will see the tragedy of the commons. So, during the financial crisis the people of Goldman Sachs, Citibank, Lehman Brothers, and the rest of the oligopoly that led the financial world, acted in accordance with the principle of the invisible hand. They may well have cited the Gekko Corollary. And the country―the world―faced disaster.

To sum up, the private sector of the economy can do some things extremely well. And there are things that government dies much less well, and often poorly. But the private sector sometimes needs help.

In Principle: Only Government Can Do It
There are things that government can do that the private sector cannot. After all, only the government has binding authority and the force available to make it stick. So where the principle of the invisible does not work, government can act. For example, it can do so with monopolies, as it does with power companies. It acted when bank's activities in the 1930s. In general, it can do so where the principle behind the tragedy of the commons is at work on a concern that society has expressed. And, in truth, no other part of society can.

That might sound simple. You know it's not. So does the Tea Party movement. Democrats and those further left on the political spectrum will complain about the influence of business―monopolists and lesser folk―and special interests of various kinds. Let's be fair. Republicans and and Tea Party supporters all make similar complaints about special interests. They find, as many of their political opponents do, that government's actions do not reflect the concerns of those around us, of the organizations that we have joined, or of our slices and dices of the mass of us. It leads to this question:

• How can you trust a government controlled by those who don't share your interests?

This is a basic question behind much of the anger of the Tea Party movement. The government is not theirs, they feel. It has been taken over by those with different backgrounds, different values, different concerns. It is easy for those opposed to the Tea Party movement to dismiss this sentiment as a simplistic rejection of those who are different. But this sentiment is shared by many who reject what the Tea Party stands for. They don't feel the same anger, they don't complain about the same influences on government, but the sense that the government is beholden to someone else is widespread.

Indeed, this lack of trust in government has been growing for decades. A study of public attitudes in 1991―under a Republican president―showed that the public had many of the same complaints that the Tea Party movement and many of the rest of us are making today. The more things change....

If government does not concern itself with what we care about, if the people in charge of it do not share our values, if, indeed, they further their own interests to the detriment of the public good, what are we to do when the principle of the invisible hand does not apply?

There are two choices. We can rely on those around us and the organizations we have joined. For concerns that affect just a few people, that can suffice. Some argue that in the past we, as a people, felt more connected with each other than we do now. So we were both willing and able to do more for our fellow citizens ourselves, without relying on the authority of government. If that were true, let us try to make it so again. But, even if that were true, the change involved, change in culture, in our traditions and values, cannot come quickly and is not certain.

The other choice is to change our government and how we interact with it. That is no easy task either. But it is what the Tea Party movement is trying to do. There are important differences between the Tea Party movement and its opponents on issues. Differences in how the movement and its opponents view the world may also be important. But there may more room for common ground than many recognize.

ClimateGate

The Guardian recently published a series of articles on the ClimateGate scandal, which stemmed from emails hijacked from the Climatic Research Unit (CRU) at the University of East Anglia.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/series/climate-wars-hacked-emails

The series is revealing and sad. It shows what can happen when science collides with politics. The one in this case is complex with results less than completely certain; the other demands simplicity and certitude. No one comes out of these stories untainted.

Unfortunately, the scientists neglected some of the precepts of their profession. They were not always willing to share data, for example, which makes it difficult or impossible to replicate the researchers findings. Unfortunately, the UN's Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) appears to have produced sloppy work, getting some key facts wrong. That does not those who want to act to reduce mankind's effects on the climate

One could argue that the researchers were provoked. Many of the skeptics are amateurs, others are, in fact, polemicists. The researchers have had to deal with FOIA requests for emails as well as data. Some skeptics clearly have axes to grind and prefer to play "Gotcha" to finding the truth of the matter.

And the truth is not as clear as either side would wish. An important part of the argument relies on times series of estimated temperatures that go back millennia. The evidence comes from data such as the relative size of tree rings, which can stem from causes in addition to temperatures. The climate itself is not easily modeled--many variables are at play when the weather changes. The Guardian series makes the difficulty of the research clear.

That is not to argue that the researchers who argue that man is changing the climate are wrong. They are professionals trained to seek truth, not to polemicize. It is to say that the truth of the matter is less than perfectly clear--on either side. My understanding is that the weight of the evidence lies on the side of climate change: We are fouling our own nest.

That said, research on climate change needs to be conducted with greater care and transparency than it has been. The example of Caesar's wife comes to mind: the work needs to be able to stand up to the strongest scrutiny, because it will get it.

That is not to let the skeptics off the hook. Their own work needs to be examined just as closely as that of their opponents. Their approach should that of the proper scholar: conclusions should reflect truth, not prejudice. These issues are too important to all of us for a different attitude to prevail.

The public debate as I have heard it reflects ignorance about the conduct of science and prejudice about the results. Ideologues on both sides peddle opinion as fact and attitude as certain truth. That may always be true when important issues come into the political marketplace. Yet the need for certainty that many seek may leave us incapable of taking prompt actions that we may need. Andrew Revkin made that argument in The New York Times. As must seem clear, I agree with him.

Let us hope that we buy into actions that reflect truth about the climate, and not merely rank on the applause meter.

Meteoric Sarah

She burst onto the political scene as the incandescent center of the Republican campaign, outshining both Obama and her running mate. Her star has faded somewhat, now that the McCain ticket seems doomed to defeat tomorrow. Yet she has expressed her desire to continue as a leader of her party no matter the outcome of the election. Her many supporters would support her in a a quest to become the first female president in 2012.

She is undeniably formidable. It have become trite, but it's true nonetheless, to say that she is a talented politician. Barring some misfortune or horrendous mistake on her part, we will be hearing from her for years.

Let no one doubt that she speaks for an important element of our polity, despite her increasing lack of appeal to many. This is one of the striking things about her. It was noted by several commentators in September that people in her audience wanted someone in office who was just like them. A friend of mine noted that she (my friend) wanted anyone but someone like herself to be making major decisions for this country. That had me thinking. The truth is that most of my friends would be comfortable in an extended conversation with Obama. I would be delighted. No, we are not half African, we did not grow up in Hawaii and Indonesia. All the same, we speak the same language. We think in similar ways. We have much the same perspective on this country and its problems.

I can't say the same about Palin. Despite having the same skin color, despite coming from suburban America as she does, she is foreign to me. But not to others. We can't dismiss those others as ill informed, unthinking Know-Nothings. My friends, and I, tend to do that. Indeed, the school that two of my kids go to has just sent out a letter urging respect for all political opinions. I have no doubt that it was Republicans who were being dissed, as if there were something unseemly in supporting the hero and the hockey mom. But those who applauded Palin as a kindred soul have a perspective that must be respected and should be understood. I confess to finding the latter difficult.

Palin herself does not help. She is bright, but uncurious. She is a brilliant speaker, but her speeches are concatenated assertions that only hint at argument. Her world is Manichean, divided between those who are good and those who are not. The line she draws between truth and falsehood is thin.

Consequently, it is not clear how much of what she says she believes. It is not clear how much has been thought through. We don't know how much she knows. The only thing consistent in her words and her actions is ambition. Those opacities make it difficult to understand the source of her appeal to those who seek someone just like them.

Yet we owe it to ourselves and our country to do just that, particularly if Obama triumphs, as now seems likely. Peter Beinart, writing in The Washington Post this morning, called Palin the "Last of the Culture Warriors." That seems too optimistic by half. Should the Republicans lose, a savage battle for the soul of the GOP can be expected to follow. Palin can be expected to be in the middle of it. Her defeat in that battle cannot be assumed. Her victory could be disastrous for both the Republican Party and the polity as a whole. Coolly dismissing those to whom she gives voice may bring that disaster upon us.

Russia-Georgia: Hot War! Cold War?

The reaction to Russia's incursion into Georgia has revealed chasms dividing peoples in the Caucasus and dividing East and West. The latter is reminiscent of the Cold War. It reveals a lack of understanding on both sides. I find that lack of understanding almost incredible, but I must admit to having fallen into it myself.

The truth is that like most conflicts, this one is more complex than a cursory glance through the headline suggests. The initial reaction of most people in the United States--and my own--was that the Russians had attacked the Georgians with no provocation, merely to further their own ambitions in the Caucasus. McCain announced that "We are all Georgians." Commentators everywhere echoed such thoughts. Saakashvili was omnipresent in the media, making his vehemently in English.

I was struck by the vehemence of the reaction by Russians--not the Russian government, but Russians like Gorbachev and others writing in the American press. The insisted strongly that their country had acted correctly and in defense of a helpless people, the Ossetians.

The International Crisis Group (ICG) can be counted on to present a sophisticated understanding of such issues. Indeed, they have done so with their analyses of the conflicts in Georgia. The Georgians were far from blameless. The conflict might have arisen if President Gamsakhurdia had not ended the autonomy of South Ossetia and Abkhazia in 1991. Since then, after a hard-fought civil war, the Georgians have made no effort to reincorporate either the Ossetians or the Abkhaz into Georgia. These minorities have followed a basic principle of international relations--the enemy of my enemy is my friend. So they have leaned on Russia for protection.

The Georgians could have made an effort to wean these peoples away from their protector. They did quite the opposite and, in the end, miscalculated badly by attacking the Ossetians. Thus the Russian counterattack.

That was where some Western commentators left the story (for example, Paul Craig Roberts, whose purposely provocative commentary in Counterpunch is both scurrilous and profoundly ignorant). So, too, did some of the Russians I had read, though their criticisms were often thoughtful.

The Russians, however, were pushing interests that in a different era could have been labelled imperialist. Earlier in 2008 they made a series of political, diplomatic, and military moves that strengthened their support of the independence of South Ossetia and Abkhazia (See the ICG Report "Georgia and Russia: Clashing over Abkhazia"). The Georgians responded with their own provocations. Finally, on August 7, they invaded Tskhinvali. The speed and strength of the Russian response suggests that they had prepared for such an event.

The Russians have succeeded not just in helping the Ossetians, satisfying the immediate goal of the incursion. They have also served Russian interests by aiding the Abkhaz and weakening the Georgians, whose pro-Western policies had been a thorn in Russia's side. They have also answered the Western--largely American--support of Kosovan independence, which was strongly opposed by Russia. So, Russian interests have been served.

But they have been served in a ham-handed, blustering, domineering manner that has alarmed the West and the states of Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union. The Russians have drawn attention to their grievances, but at some cost. How much, we don't know.

American policy has been less than perfect. It is not true that "the U.S. had encouraged Georgia to attack the autonomous region of South Ossetia," an accusation made by Putin. Indeed, Assistant Secretary of State Daniel Fried discouraged the Georgians from actions in South Ossetia that would antagonize the Russians more than once. If the Georgians were listening, they would have known that the United States would not provide military support if the Russians attacked.

Yet it seems clear in retrospect that the Georgians were not discouraged strongly enough. Military aid was provided, but with too few strings. Political support was given with too little recognition of the limitations of Georgian democracy (see the ICG report, "Georgia: Sliding towards Authoritarianism?").

So what happens now? The Russians have made it clear that they will not return to the status quo ante. They have earned a chill in relations with the West. Georgia must be provided with aid and support. At the same time, their mistakes must be recognized and the danger that their recklessness poses to Western interests must be factored into policy.

In the bigger picture, Russia and the United States need to find a way of dealing with each other as neither enemies nor friends and as equals in the region. That is not natural to either country. Both countries have historically been most comfortable treating the outside world in binary terms. The Russians tend to see other countries as either enemies or subordinates; the Americans tend to see them as either enemies or friends. A middle ground will be hard come by.

In the longer term, Russian power will shrink. It is, in fact, at its apogee. In the coming decades, Russian production of oil and natural gas will prove to be a wasting asset as the rest of the world, the West in particular, finds alternative sources of energy and uses energy more efficiently. In addition, the Russian population is aging and shrinking. There is as yet little sign that anything in the Russian economy will make up for the decline in economic growth that these two trends suggest we will see.

One last point. The commentary on the crisis in Georgia usually skipped any discussion of the people at the center of the conflict. What will happen to the Ossetians? What will happen to the Abkhaz? The Russians are promising them their independence. But it seems all too likely that they will be swallowed, de facto or de jure, into a Russia that views all the Caucasian peoples with suspicion. They are throwing the Georgians out, even their Georgian neighbors. In the end, however, they may be the biggest losers, eternally dependent on a Russia that views them as merely a means to other ends.

Tax Cuts and Sacrifice

Amid all the good things about Barack Obama's speech to the Democratic National Convention was this sentence:

I will--listen now--I will cut taxes--cut taxes--for 95 percent of all working families, because, in an economy like this, the last thing we should do is raise taxes on the middle class.

It may be that no candidate can win who promises to raise taxes. It may be that Obama's chances of winning are increased appreciably by promising to lower them. But no president will be able to create the programs needed to meet the challenges this country faces without making Americans pay for them.

Unfortunately, for all the concern about the current state of the economy and the problems of the poor and other people less fortunate than most, we do not feel pressed toward improvement. Americans are, by and large, comfortable. Our biggest challenges, it seems to us, are somewhere on the horizon. They don't stare us in the face. Action can be postponed.

What are these challenges? An aging workforce, with many nearing retirement. A crumbling infrastructure. An environment that will change utterly in the next generation. These three things alone will take many billions of dollars of government spending. They will also take personal sacrifice. Yet no one is talking about concrete measures to meet these challenges. Reform of social security and Medicare is off the agenda. The infrastructure is not talked about. Our environmental problems will be taken care of by tax incentives and research, as if something less than a fundamental change in how we live is needed (which it is, in my opinion, but I'll leave that argument for another time).

Obama, on the contrary, talks about new programs that will increase spending. Mind you, McCain and the Republicans are not paragons of fiscal probity. They have their own programs and tax cuts to offer the electorate. They see no more urgent need for us to tighten our belts than the Democrats do.

This shows how important it was that President Bush failed to ask for sacrifice in the wake of 9/11. He squandered a once-in-a-generation opportunity to ask us to act together as a community. The promise of Obama is that he offer us that opportunity again.

There were hints of that in the speech. For example, he suggested that college aid will be offered to those who serve, in the military or in some civilian capacity:

And we will keep our promise to every young American: If you commit to serving your community or our country, we will make sure you can afford a college education.

That statement, with it's hint of new GI bill to reward those who serve, could be a whisper before a shout, a loud call to all of us to join together in common action to renew our country. We need that, rather than a plea to "Enrichez-vous," which the promise to cut taxes evokes. Would Americans respond? The success of the Obama campaign suggests that they might. I wish the answer were clearer, but we won't get it unless the call is made.

William F. Buckley

William F. Buckley died this week. His absence leaves a gap that even those who do not share his conservatism should feel.

Let me make it clear that I was never a disciple. I never read his books. I disagreed with what was written in The National Review the few times I glanced at it.

But I did watch Firing Line when I was growing up and old enough to care about the arguments that were made. I admired his facility with language. I respected the arguments he made and had to smile when asked just the right question to put his guest on the spot, smiling mischievously as he did. When I did not agree, which was most of the time, I still had to think through why I disagreed. Someone who makes you do that needs to be thanked.

His love of language was palpable. No doubt many found him snobbish and showy because of his penchant for using long, little-known words. The New York Times this week caught his tone beautifully:

"Mr. Buckley marshaled polysyllabic exuberance and a refined, perspicacious mind to elevate conservatism to the center of American political discourse."

Yet I read once that he chose words precisely. To him, not just any word would do; it had to fit the meaning he intended perfectly, or close to it. That is a precept I have tried to follow when writing. I confess that I owe the attitude to him. His words were showy and pyrotechnic. But they were pyrotechnics with a purpose and a love for the sheer sound they produced. If such language is a vice, it is easily forgiven.

His brother Reed once came to Culver Military Academy when I was a cadet. He was much like his brother in politics and language. I remember the evening as one of polite but earnest intellectual sparring. This wasn't Bill, but it felt much as if it were. I loved it.

Firing Line is long gone. And now so is Buckley. There is now no one who can both challenge and entertain us with splendid language and rigorous logic placed at the service of political argument.

Thanks, Bill.

Losses of 2007

2007 has been a trying year. Too many people close to me, my family, and my friends have died. Alas, given our ages--at 55, I am in the middle of my friends--this won't be the last such year.

A metaphor occurred to me a couple of weeks ago that helps when thinking of those who have gone. I don't pretend that it is profound, it only helps. We go through life as if it were a subway ride. The ride begins when we climb aboard. We travel to the end of the line. As we go, other people climb aboard. When they do, they have their own histories, their own stories to tell. We converse (this is unlike most rides), we get to know them. They leave. Where do they go? We do not know. Perhaps to continue their stories, their histories. They were fine companions when they joined us. Their absence leaves a hole as we continue our ride.

I never feel I have known my companions well enough or long enough. Their history will always be half-known at best. That is a part of the immeasurable loss that their departure leaves.

Here are those whose loss I felt keenly this year, but their memory includes treasures that will be held close until my ride ends:

Dave Stryker. He was a Morris man whom I had known for more than two decades. He was hardly a friend, an acquaintance, really. And I can't say that I liked him much. But his trial, which stretched from March through May, affected me strongly. Those who knew him well did well by him, keeping the rest of us informed as he slowly moved toward death, and telling us how they remembered him. This was no soppy, dew-filled flower of memories of one passing away. Well, there was a little of that. But his fault-filled humanity was not hidden as his strength ebbed. Morris was his passion, as it is one of mine.He died well, filled and, I think, had his life extended by the strength of that passion. His ashes were placed in a mug. I'll drink happily and heartily from it when it comes my way.

Len Erb. He was my step-father, loved by my mother in the years before her death, a friend of both my parents when my brother and I were children. He was also one of the finest men I have known. Career Navy, he fought in submarines during World War II, commanded one of the first Polaris submarines in the 1960s, and headed the Ingalls shipyard at Pascagoula until he retired. My fondest memory was of him, my brother, and I, sitting in a restaurant in Phoenix after my mother died. We stayed for hours, listening to Len tell his tales. He died in June, a few days before I was to fly to Los Angeles to see him.. I heard many of his stories, but am ready to hear more.

David Long. My brother in law. I didn't know him as a lawyer; I knew him as a husband and father, as one of the family. We learned not long before his death how accomplished he really was as a lawyer for the Justice Department. As the Attorney General told us, they were quite remarkable. Let it be noted that his sense of honor was extraordinary, particularly in an age when honor is little valued.

A few months before he died, as his cancer had advanced far enough that we knew that death would soon come, his daughter Kathryn asked his friends and family to write what they would remember about him. This is how I remember him:

A man enthusiastic. David has had his enthusiasms, which he has pursued with contagious joy. His version of 'This Old Man' was one. A great idea, splendidly made real. His life-long love of 'The Grateful Dead' is another. I treasure his CDs of material from his vast collection. He's educated me about the 'Dead.' Just this morning, in fact, they played 'Touch of Gray' on the radio. I thought: David. And remembered his enthusiasm when it first came out. Good song. Great band. A fine guy.
The consummate host. At family events, he has always made sure I knew where the beer was and had one in hand. More than that, he has ensured that the beer at hand was something I would like. I've never thanked him for that, but it has always been appreciated, as has the courtesy with which he treats everyone who comes as a guest to his home. This is, to him, a duty and, it seems, a pleasure.
The Wee Beastie Feastie Host. David was the Swanson version of Johnny Carson. Relaxed, charming, funny. The master. Great.
One of the '51s. He launched the club at our rehearsal dinner, an event caught on tape. The skit is an indelible part of family history. As I remember it, he came up with most of the jokes. The '51s became a group because of that skit; I'm thankful to be a part of it.
A better man than he thinks himself to be. This is a man modest about his talents and his accomplishments. Like most of us, I suspect he has never achieved as much as he hoped. But he has done a lot, more than I think he realizes. Some examples:
He's a fair guitar player, but a gifted song writer. 'Poor Richard Nixon" is, after all, a minor classic.
A major accomplishment: His kids. Grown and growing, they are people to be proud of.
Another accomplishment: "The Big Vince"; the tournament for Vince Terlep. This is no small thing, not just for the effort it has taken to get it going and keep it going, but for what it says about friendship, the friendship David had for Vince.
Professional accomplishments: I don't know enough about what he did professionally, except that he took pride in doing it and did it well. I do know that David had a career given to public service, though better money could be found outside government. I envy him that.

David died at the beginning of August, after having suffered more pain than anyone I have known. It was fortunate for me that I was able to spend several evening with him in his last month. I think I helped him; I know he helped me.

Nick Robertshaw. Nick was a good friend whom I knew for many, many years. He died suddenly--shockingly--when his heart gave out at the end of October. We were stunned. He was the best musician Foggy Bottom Morris ever had and a wonderful, joyous singer. In fact, you could feel joy in everything he did, whether it was singing a slightly naughty song, drinking a good beer, picking mushrooms along a trail, or just watching a thunderstorm from his porch. As with the others lost this year, my picture of the man became broader once people began to tell how they knew him. You would do well to spend some time at the Nick Robertshaw wiki, if you have not yet done so, to learn more about this extraordinary man. Two months later, I have yet to take the full measure of his loss. I fear there is a bucket of tears waiting to fall before I do.

With Nick, and with the others, I learned more about them after they left from others still on the train. It was true of my father and mother after they died. Each time someone leaves, you realize how much you did not know about them, how much of their history was hidden and, to you, lost. For me, these four people have found their stop. For me, their ride is over, their story is finished. It feels like we were just getting to the good part.