Thursday, October 17, 2013

The Morning After

It’s like a psychic hangover—for three weeks I’ve tried to tune out the noise and listen—often literally—to music instead. But it was incessant, and ultimately impossible to ignore: who, if anybody, would back down in our political game of chicken?
And what would the price be, if we went over the “fiscal cliff?” Or was it a cliff? Because some Republicans were saying that it might not be that bad a thing if all of a sudden we stopped paying on our obligations. A treasury note was supposed to be as sure as money in the bank—and then one day it wasn’t. And that wasn’t a big deal?
Still, what do I know? I know little things like speaking with a border patrol guy in the supermarket. He was working but not getting paid; I asked what he thought about the situation in Washington that had led to his lending his time to the government (he’ll get retroactive pay).
He looked hard at me, sizing me up. And it was obvious—we’re on different sides of the fence, politically.
“Children,” he said derisively. He tensed, waiting for me to rant about the Republicans.
“I’ll say,” I said. Why should I go there? He hadn’t; he had expressed a view that wasn’t an attack on an ideology.
So we had a pleasant exchange, and left cordially. Which is not the way I’m feeling today. In fact, I’m feeling battered and bruised; so much so that I tuned out the President, who was doing his best to pull everybody back on track.
And I’m thinking about my own state, which according to The New York Times is the most politically divisive state in the nation. What happened?
Well, big money moved in, for one. David Koch himself came out and said it: “We’ve spent a lot of money in Wisconsin. We’re going to spend more.” How much money? Well, 60% of the $25 million Walker raised for his recall campaign came from outside the state.
Legislation began coming in from elsewhere, instead of being crafted and drafted locally. And it often came from ALEC, the American Legislative Exchange Council, a conservative coalition of business, lobbyists, and state legislators. And they were less bills than packages: they came with strategic talking points designed to eliminate opposition. Oh, and often a smoke screen—here’s a description from The New York Times:
Pocan described an ALEC conference in New Orleans that he attended last summer. “I remember going to a workshop and hearing a little bit about a bill they did in Florida and some other states to dismantle public education,” Pocan said. “There was a proposal to provide special-needs scholarships. Lo and behold, all of a sudden I come back to Wisconsin, and what gets introduced? A bill to do just that.”
The next day, Pocan outlined a strategy ALEC advises its members to use: “You have to introduce a 14-point platform,” he said, “so that you can make it harder for them to focus and for the press to cover 14 different planks.” He pointed to several bills introduced in the past two sessions, including one that allows more children to enroll in virtual charter schools. “It sounds good,” Pocan said. “Kids could access virtual schools for home schooling. But again,” he emphasized, the real purpose is “taking apart public schools, drip by drip.”
There were the strong-arm tactics, as the discourse broke down completely. The Times spoke of the violation of the open meetings law, and mentioned a heated debate between the Assembly minority leader and Scott Fitzgerald, the Senate majority leader. Well, it was indeed—as heated as things tend to get in Wisconsin. Take a look:



Of course the whole affair ended up in court, and a state court took the very unusual step of throwing out the law banning collective bargaining for state workers, solely on the basis of the violation of the open meetings law. Later, the 7th Circuit Court of Appeals in Chicago would overturn the ban on the ban. Meaning that Walker carried the day, and that government workers no longer have the right to bargain collectively.
So a nation sat and watched a 16-day temper tantrum, averted at the last hour, but not without a lot of damage wrought. Unnecessary damage, really—because a good fight about an important issue is one thing. But you know what? John McCain came out and said it:
“We’ve got to assure the American people that we are not going to do this again,” Mr. McCain said on MSNBC’s “Morning Joe” on Thursday. He said Republicans should “focus on the provisions of Obamacare that are not acceptable” and make sure they get “a positive agenda for the party so we can be for things rather than against things, for opening things rather than closing them.”
You learn more from your enemies than from your friends, in general, and the idea was supposed to be that the discourse sharpened the debate, and improved the product. So yes, it’s important to talk about the size of the federal government, or whether big government is the answer, or whether the economy—read jobs—is more important than the spotted snail that lives in the bottom of a tributary of a river. Oh, and nobody ever much sees the snail. Nor is the tributary navigable.
I thought about all of this yesterday, when I watched the video below—how important it was to have the fight, and to know how to fight well.
And today? Well, the one person who isn’t editorializing on the shutdown is Nicholas D. Kristof—right, so what was that about? Well, he talked about the fight to get lead removed from gasoline and paint, and the rise in intelligence levels in kids as a result of not being exposed to lead. And his bet is that the next big fight is going to be endocrine disrupting chemicals—the chemicals found in plastics and petroleum-based products. Next to me, as I read the story, was my bottle of water—which many scientists don’t allow their children to drink from. The bottling industry—hold on firmly to your chairs here—scoffs at the idea.
Who’s right, who’s wrong? Two things—we could have spent our time on that question, rather than closing down the government. And second, how are we going to fight big industries like the lead industry, the petroleum industry, or big tobacco except through government?
If you have the answer—tell me.
I’ll try to listen….