We went down for a couple of days with a corrupt database. Had to restore and figured it was time to upgrade to WordPress 3.0 which meant upgrading the database as well.
Hopefully, this has fixed things.
Anything else.
We went down for a couple of days with a corrupt database. Had to restore and figured it was time to upgrade to WordPress 3.0 which meant upgrading the database as well.
Hopefully, this has fixed things.
Because I can't figure out video.
If you haven't had a chance, the past two days of the Daily Show have been very much worth watching, in my estimation. The night before last, Obama pointed out how friendly Obama has been to Bush-era policies regarding rendition, detention, Gitmo, etc. Last night, he ran through the litany of former Presidents who urged us to end our dependence on oil. In both cases, the point was pretty clear. Obama is somewhere to the right of Richard Nixon–yet we still have to have a debate with Fox News (and I would add the Washington Post Op-ed page, etc.) about whether Obama is a communist, a socialist, or a fascist. Seriously. I can't explain this.
Some of you may remember the recent case of Mark Souder. He was the latest in a string of Republican social conservatives to go down in a sex scandal (with a female staffer). Pardon the pun, but it turns out one of our favorite deep thinkers, Michael Gerson, worked for him way back when. Aside from cheating on his wife, turns out Souder's a nice guy or something, which leads Gerson to meditate on the meaning of morality:
Moral conservatives need to admit that political character is more complex than marital fidelity and that less sensual vices also can be disturbing. "The sins of the flesh are bad," said C.S. Lewis, "but they are the least bad of all sins. All the worst pleasures are purely spiritual: the pleasure of putting other people in the wrong, of bossing and patronizing and spoiling sport, and back-biting, the pleasures of power, of hatred. For there are two things inside me, competing with the human self which I must try to become. They are the Animal self, and the Diabolical self. The Diabolical self is the worse of the two. That is why a cold, self-righteous prig who goes regularly to church may be far nearer to hell than a prostitute. But, of course, it is better to be neither."
I think I agree with this stuff. There is a lot more to morality than what one does with one's private parts. And indeed, the "pleasure of putting other people in the wrong" is up there for me in the list of bad things.
Gerson continues:
Yet moral liberals have something to learn as well. The failure of human beings to meet their own ideals does not disprove or discredit those ideals. The fact that some are cowards does not make courage a myth. The fact that some are faithless does not make fidelity a joke. All moral standards create the possibility of hypocrisy. But I would rather live among those who recognize standards and fail to meet them than among those who mock all standards as lies. In the end, hypocrisy is preferable to decadence.
I don't think anyone (serious) fits the description of "moral liberal" here. The failure of self-righteous jerks like Gerson's former boss does not mean the values those self-righteous jerks hold are empty. That's like a logical fallacy or something (play along at home–name that fallacy). And I think attributing such sloppy thinking to non-existent opponents is a kind of "putting people in the wrong." Moreover, it's just dishonest arguing.
But it gets worse. Gerson seems to think that there is a stark choice–live among the inconsistent, but strident proponent of that old-time morality, or be a moral relativist. He'd be first of alll hard-pressed to find moral relativists of the type he suggests anywhere. Second, granted their existence somewheres, it doesn't follow that they are the only reasonable alternative to moral hypocrties. That would indeed be a logical fallacy. Can you guess which?
h/t Alicublog
Here's an article worth reading. A sample:
A powerful thunderstorm forced President Obama to cancel his Memorial Day speech near Chicago on Monday—an arbitrary event that had no affect on the trajectory of American politics.
And another:
Chief among the criticisms of Obama was his response to the spill. Pundits argued that he needed to show more emotion. Their analysis, however, should be viewed in light of the economic pressures on the journalism industry combined with a 24-hour news environment and a lack of new information about the spill itself.
Reminds me of this meta-news story story.
As I understand it, agnotology, the scientific name for "epistemic closure," could be taken in a couple of different ways (Or, in the words of the Stagirite translated by Moerbeke and pondered upon by the Angelic Doctor, agnotologia dicitur multipliciter). First, there is the purposeful production of unreasonable doubt:
The unifying feature of the right in the 21st century is not so much ideology as an embrace of ignorance, represented most obviously by the leading figures on the right in the US, Rush Limbaugh and Sarah Palin. Rather than reflecting an even partially coherent world view and political program, rightwing politics now consists of the restatement of talking points in favor of a set of policy positions that represent affirmations of tribal identity, rather than elements of a coherent program.
So, Christianists fight to the death on gay marriage but are unconcerned by the emergence of serial divorce and remarriage as a social norm, particularly among the Republican elite. Libertarians denounce gun control as the first step to dictatorship but, many have been unconcerned or supportive of the abrogation of most constitutional protections against arbitrary arrest and punishment. Business pushes its own barrow through continuous advocacy of tax cuts, but shows no concern about massive defense spending that is already rendering those cuts unsustainable.
Increasingly, I’ve become convinced that the best way to understand this can be summed in the term ‘agnotology’ (h/t commenter Fran Barlow), coined by Robert Proctor to describe study of the manufacture of ignorance. Proctor was referring primarily to the efforts of the tobacco lobby to cast doubt on research demonstrating the link between smoking and cancer. But the veterans of that campaign have moved on to a whole range of new issues, and their techniques have been so widely imitated that the entire political right now looks like Big Tobacco writ even bigger.
The manufacture of ignorance is most obvious in relation to climate change, where the gullibility associated with ‘scepticism’ has reached levels that would have seemed unbelievable (at least in the absence of the kind of religious commitment associated with creationism). If supporters of science had invented someone like Lord Monckton, he would have been dismissed as an absurd caricature.
I think this is far too narrow. In the first place, it's my guess that not many of those who promote the views discussed above actually believe them to be false. To this extent I think the Tobacco Industry analogy does not work. For on that analogy, the Tobacco companies made efforts to suppress knowledge about their harmful products–they engaged in other words in deliberate propoganda.
Second, I think what is really at issue in agnotology is the aura of complete unreasonableness associated with a certain set of beliefs or views. Otherwise science-believing, antibiotic-taking individuals will suddenly seize up when a select set of scientific hypotheses fall under discussion. Germ theory of disease? Fine. Plant Hybridization? Fine. Global warming? Science can't prove anything!
For this reason, I'd say we have a problem primary of selective skepticism. So the the problem is primarily one of unreasonable ignoring. This, I think, is a process question. So agnotology ought to focus on the sophistical mechanisms of ignoring.
Some conservative fellow wrote a piece a while back using that phrase, "epistemic closure," to describe his fellow conservatives. It sparked a grand discussion. The phrase is meant to explain how it is that whole legions of alleged well educated individuals lock themselves into intellectual absurdities, such as the falsity of anthropogenic climate change, that lowering taxes on the rich increases tax revenues, that conservative and industry-friendly health reform proposals are socialist, communist, or fascist, and so forth.
There is an entertaining discussion of this on Crooked Timber (first here, then here, then here), although the author (John Quiggin) prefers "agnotology" to "epistemic closure" (with good reason, there's a book on the phenomenon). Go read Quiggin's posts. The second of them asks the question as to whether the left is guilty of the same degree of agnotology. His answer is no (I think he's right about this–in the long comments section, no one could satisfy the accusation of tu quoque).
So what does he recommend? This:
And as the agnotology/epistemic closure debate has shown, awareness of these facts is increasing. As they become more and more evident, there has been a steady trickle of defections from the intellectual apparatus of the right, some of them quite surprising. With the facts now openly admitted, we can expect to see more.
What does this imply for the left, and particularly for intellectuals on the left? First, as I’ve said, I think it spells an end to any idea that there is value in engaging in discussion with smart people on the other side. It’s impossible to be a smart (and honest) movement conservative, since you have to assent (overtly or tacitly) to all sorts of stupid and dishonest things. Take, for example, a discussion of health care. Whatever arguments someone opposed to Obama’s policy might come up with, if they line up with the Republican position, they are relying on lies about death panels and socialised medicine, repeated by their most prominent leaders, to carry the day. There is simply no point in pretending to engage such a person in honest debate.
Indeed. I agree. But ignoring them won't get us anywhere. They and their silly ideas dominate what passes for public discourse in this country. Besides, ignoring them plays right into their driving narrative: elitist liberals look down on us.
The "you're not the boss of me" objection goes like this: pick some not unreasonable but not universally liked behavioral prescription, object to it by saying, "you're not the boss of me." Trust me, it's how you have a mature, well-informed, and honest debate about, say, public health.
Some so-called Medical Doctors have suggested that eating certain kinds of foods (Super-sized Salted Salty-O's, for example) will turn you into a health care nightmare. But this is America. To ruin your own health, out of ignorance, seems to be some kind right. You have a right not to have someone inform you about the relevant facts of your life choices. Or so argues Michael Gerson:
Following the passage of Democratic health-care reform legislation, President Obama assured the country that it was a "middle-of-the-road, centrist approach" instead of an intrusive, government power grab. But the government seems incapable of resisting the nannying impulse that undermines this claim.
So health reform includes a 10 percent tax on the use of indoor tanning beds. (Someone needs to stop this slow-motion Chernobyl.) The law also requires fast-food restaurants to post their calorie counts at the drive-through window, lest anyone be under the impression that a Big Mac is health food.
Recently, Rep. Henry Waxman (D-Calif.) called for a ban on chewing tobacco in major league baseball. A lawyer for the players' association said, "We can go back to the players and say, 'Congress feels strongly about this. You ought to think about it. Look what's happened on other issues Congress felt strongly about.' " And concerned scientists raised the prospect of legal limits on the salt content of processed foods. There is safety in blandness.
Most symbolically, this year's White House Easter Egg Roll pointedly did not include the distribution of teeth-rotting, obesity-inducing candy. "Every goodie bag," according to one account, "was stuffed with pre-screened fruit, and the grounds were filled with exercise stations." One can only imagine the joy on young faces when they got their apple and their workout.
I can hardly be called a libertarian. Legalizing drugs is a foolish idea because addiction robs people of liberty. Restaurant smoking bans have improved my life and my appetite. But freedom implies some leeway for personal risk and minor, pleasurable foolishness. Democrats in particular seem to be afflicted with Mary Poppins Syndrome: They will not rest until Americans are practically perfect in every way.
I think informing people about the undeniable realities of their food choices–a Big Mac contains 576 calories–could hardly be called an attempt to make Americans perfect in every way. Rather, some might argue (me for instance), that industries such as BIG COLA and BIG BURGER want to make people ignorant of the consequences of their choices. Even a libertarian–a consistent one-would have to admit that it's a good thing to know what your food contains.
But no–such efforts amount to nagging:
This tendency has added relevance because of the passage of health-care reform. When the provision of health insurance to every American becomes a direct responsibility of government, nearly every health matter becomes a public matter. Why not regulate tanning at beaches? Wouldn't mandatory, subsidized sunscreen save billions in health costs? Why not a jelly doughnuts tax? Why not make saturated fat a controlled substance? Shouldn't children on tricycles be required to wear safety helmets?
For some of us, the problem is not the tyranny but the nagging. As the public role in health care expands dramatically, health-care controversies become politicized. The health enthusiasms of a president, an influential congressman or an interest group can become public policy or public pressure. After all: "Look what's happened on other issues Congress felt strongly about."
Such things always have politicized. And when people advocate consumers be provided with more information, we get the same, childish argument. No, no one is the boss of Michael Gerson–he can have a Big Mac whenever he wants.
Norman Orenstein, Resident Scholar at the American Enterprise Institute, yes, the place that separated itself from someone who dared suggest the Republicans blew it on HIR, writes:
Looking at the range of Obama domestic and foreign policies, and his agency and diplomatic appointments, my conclusion is clear: This president is a mainstream, pragmatic moderate, operating in the center of American politics; center-left, perhaps, but not left of center. The most radical president in American history? Does Newt Gingrich, a PhD in history, really believe that [expletive]?
"Center-left, perhaps?" Let's see if they fire this guy.
Fun with video. Watch this video mash-up of cable TV discussion of the Commonwealth of Virginia's "Confederate History Month" Proclamation, then add your favorite points in the comments.
Today Robert Samuelson, mustachioed captain bringdown of the Washington Post op-ed page, meditates on the obvious fact that people who think they're right about something feel good about being right. The only thing is that he mistakes this for some kind of profound discovery. He writes:
Obama's approach was politically necessary. On a simple calculus of benefits, his proposal would have failed. Perhaps 32 million Americans will receive insurance coverage — about 10 percent of the population. Other provisions add somewhat to total beneficiaries. Still, for most Americans, the bill won't do much. It may impose costs: higher taxes, longer waits for appointments. [argument please–eds]
People backed it because they thought it was "the right thing"; it made them feel good about themselves. What they got from the political process are what I call "psychic benefits." Economic benefits aim to make people richer. Psychic benefits strive to make them feel morally upright and superior. But this emphasis often obscures practical realities and qualifications. For example: The uninsured already receive substantial medical care, and it's unclear how much insurance will improve their health. [WTF? –eds.]
Purging moral questions from politics is both impossible and undesirable. But today's tendency to turn every contentious issue into a moral confrontation is divisive. One way of fortifying people's self-esteem is praising them as smart, public-spirited and virtuous. But an easier way is to portray the "other side" as scum: The more scummy "they" are, the more superior "we" are. This logic governs the political conversation of left and right, especially talk radio, cable channels and the blogosphere. [Or it's even easier to portray them as having ulterior psychological motivations about feeling good about themselves-eds.]
I think a country as rich as ours ought to be able to provide health insurance for everyone. I think this for moral reasons and practical ones. On the practical front, the total costs, I think, of our current system outweigh the benefits. The new bill, by the way, wasn't just about the uninsured (and really Samuelson ought to know this)–it was about reforming the insurance you already have (which in many cases barely qualifies as "insurance"). Now, thankfully, if Samuelson develops a new condition–mustache cancer for instance–he can't be "rescinded" (that was the idea, anyway) by his insurance company just because he's sick. If his kid has a preexisting condition, the Post's insurance policy can't not cover him. Well, that's the idea anyway.
Does it make me feel good about myself to have supported such a position? Maybe. Did I think it was the correct position to take? Yes. That feeling–feeling good about having the right position–is a consequence of my thinking I have the right position, rather than the cause of it.
But in any case, I think we can all assume for the sake of argument that everyone always wants to feel good about himself. We can also assume that people want to feel good about themselves for good reason. The relevant question here is whether people who supported (or opposed) HCR have good reason to feel good about themselves.
Maybe they do, maybe they don't.