Archives for category: Politics
Before I get into this, I’m aware that what I’m about to say may fall into the categories of both virtue signalling and performative anti-racism.

Black-Lives-Matter-Black-Sabbath-sm

A Facebook friend with whom I have little in common politically responded to this user pic with the rather reductive question ‘Slogan or movement?’ I’m not sure what my answer is. (And I’ll be honest – I saw a picture of a rock star wearing a shirt with this design. It’s in the style of the cover a Black Sabbath album. Part of my choice of image is sheer amusement at the conflation.) Starting with the slogan, though, there’s a meme going around which posits a person telling their partner about the pain they’re experiencing. The partner responds with something like, ‘Many people feel pain.’ True, but hurtful. This reflects how I feel about the common responses to the phrase ‘Black Lives Matter’ – Yes, all lives, but it’s black people being killed by white cops on the street, in their own homes by cops with no-knock warrants to arrest someone already in custody, while playing in the local park with a toy, while walking home with a bag of skittles. So for those folks and so many more like them, I say Black Lives Matter.

In our societies, this is how the phrase has been used since Trayvon Martin was brutally killed and his killer, who stalked the boy even when told to stand down, acquitted.
Systemic racism has been a boot on the neck of people of color since well before Reconstruction. And I know there are far better essays by people much better read and more experienced than I am on the subject. Repeating the phrase is a way of showing that I no longer want to operate in society in a way that doesn’t move us from racism to anti-racism. I want to be on the side of making this better, not on the side of complacency.
Is professing the phrase a precondition for action? I don’t know, but we don’t get to the next level of this society on word or faith alone. By standing up, I’m trying in a small way to say and be on the side of the repressed. It’s in that middle ground between speaking the platitude and doing the work. I know that I’m blessed as a cis-presenting white male, I’ve been the subject of very little discrimination. It’s well past the point that those who step or live outside of that is subject to repression and discrimination, and worse. I can, at this point, only imagine what it is like in these times to be Black and Trans, for example.
When I say that Black Lives Matter, I speak out that the rights to life and to simple self determination do matter and that the right to be treated equally under the law matters, and that the right to be judged as a person and not a representative of a group of people with the same skin color matters, and that the right to the same education as white peers matters, and that there is a right not to be mocked by society for two weeks every year matters, and that  the claim of tradition is no basis for being hateful.

 

“When a disease image is used by Machiavelli, the presumption is that the disease can be cured. ‘Consumption,’ he wrote, in the commencement is easy to cure, and difficult to understand; but when it has neither been discovered in due time, nor treated upon a proper principle, it becomes easy to understand, and difficult to cure.” (from “Illness as Metaphor” by Susan Sontag)

This is sort of an obvious idea, that if you are looking out clearly before everyone else is, what might eventually be a problem, isn’t hard to solve. And when it’s obvious to everyone, it’s very difficult to solve. This is where we are now. I’ve read the same articles everyone else has about PPE and stay at home measures and masks.

And what the hell happened in Michigan this week? Armed people stormed the capital and got in? And were not stopped? (As one friend noted: Is it time to be scared yet?) Everyone apparently went home at the end of the day and no one was hurt or shot. (As another friend noted: This is how you know they were white.)

The problem is obvious if there’s compassion, but how can we show compassion to those who behave in ways that we despise? Those Michigan protesters are frightened, possibly already out of work, financially and domestically at risk, and desperately wanting a return to normal. Because I want doctors and nurses not to be at risk and nursing homes and meat packing plants not to continue to be outbreak vectors, I see this thing one way. But those folks storming the Lansing statehouse? They want to be able to work and get the kids out of the house and fight battles against things they can see, like legislators rather than things they can’t.

Years ago, a woman I respect pointed me to The Five Love Languages, a bit of relationship self-help which I read and found things applicable to my own relationship. (I’m a fiction guy – this is way out of my usual reading, so bear with me.) The writer is a marriage counselor with a heavy Christian leaning and I took from it what spoke to me and let the rest go. The thesis is that each person feels best loved when that love is expressed in one or two of five different ways. And he illustrates this with a couple dozen case studies from his own practice. One such case has stuck with me: A woman comes in for counseling whose husband has been emotionally abusive to her since not long after their wedding. Her attempts to communicate and love in her husband’s language started to bridge the divide between them and they were able to build their relationship together again.

In America’s political divide, from which we find armed men from one side invading the capital where a governor from the other party is trying to keep people safe from our current pandemic, we have to find ways to make the whole thing work. I’m not suggesting that those of us on the left simply need to learn the love languages of those on the right and that will make everything better. In the summer of 2016, I spent some time with some very politically active and astute members of my family. A cousin predicted that we would lose the election because democrats still weren’t speaking to the needs of those in the so-called heartland. I’m not sure if that’s the (only) reason we lost, but I’m not seeing the language coming from Joe Biden that’s going to cross the divide either. Note: I’m also an armchair policy wonk. I want to hear from Biden specifically what he’s going to do to ease the crisis. How he’s going to get PPE and ventilators to all the places that need it, how he’s going to make people the focus of the crisis and not big business, how how how. I’m not getting it yet, but I’m probably not listening in the right places. (And being an ocean away from the US part of this crisis, means I’m not seeing the headlines on a daily basis either.) In politics, policy might be my love language.

And getting back to the opening salvo: the illness and its associated crises are very easy to see now. And as such, very easy to suggest how to attack each portion of the problem. One thing I see that we need is a kind of national compassion that is beyond the skills of the current administration. What I hear is the stoking of division and the coddling of big business at the expense of the working class. This has been what I’ve heard and seen as long as this administration has been in power. The current moment demands unity and unification if we’re going to solve it and most of us live through it.

Karl Marx was being somewhat reductionist when he said that history repeats itself, first and tragedy, then as farce. And I won’t be the first person to suggest that the Corvid-19 tragedy in the US is a repeat of the AIDS crisis of the 1980s. The earlier was (for those of us in the West) a great tragedy, and what’s affecting us now surely isn’t farce – it’s a tragedy on a larger, faster scale. One of the reasons it’s such a tragedy is that many people learned from the AIDS crisis, President Trump just isn’t one of them.

This probably isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned on this blog the travesty of the Reagan administration in not acknowledging the toll AIDS was taking on a couple of communities in the United States, even when it took the life of his friend Rock Hudson. He refused even to name the disease until well into his second term. That the hardest hit communities were the gays and the intravenous drug users might have had something to do with this. I initially wrote that Reagan was handily reelected even with ACT-UP protests in the capital, but ACT-UP wasn’t formed until 1987. As long as the communities were demonized, though, there was no need to worry. It didn’t hurt Reagan that his opponent in ‘84 was the relatively uncharismatic Walter Mondale.

But the fact is that over the first 20 years of the epidemic, 774,467 people in the US were diagnosed with HIV. 448,060 died of its related ailments. (HIV is still the cause of approximately 1 million deaths per year, mostly in sub-Saharan Africa and Asia.)

The disease wasn’t discussed in US political circles, except in reference to the innocent victims. Remember the Ryan White Act? Innocent meaning not gay, not a drug user. Comics used it as a punch line. Sometimes the entertainment industry stepped up (Philadelphia), generally not. But eventually there was movement in the research and the disease became less of a death sentence, at least in the West. Africa? Still a different story. Standard Precautions also evolved out of the AIDS epidemic. Previously there had been precautions associated with whatever diagnosed illness the patient presented with. First Universal Precautions (1986 or so), which referred specifically to blood and blood-related bodily fluids, and then Standard Precautions superseded those with a set of practices for all those who had patient (and especially body fluid) contact and weren’t dependent on the patient presenting symptoms. When I was working in healthcare in the 90s (as a secretary in home health for a major HMO), I had to be familiar with these, even though it wasn’t in my daily routine to practice them.

Read that WHO doc on standard precautions, or this one from the CDC. That’s okay. I’ll wait.

Did you note the bits about cough safety and hand washing? Yeah, those ring bells because we’re coughing into our elbows now and washing our hands eighteen times a day. What about PPE, sterilization, and infection prevention? Yeah. We’ve had rules in place about those things for decades.

Which brings us to the current repetition.

We know just about when this outbreak came to the US. And we’ve listened to the president and his cohort lie, cheat, steal, brag, and generally screw over those most in need: those suffering from this dreadful flu and the health professionals doing their utmost to help those patients. If the AIDS crisis was itself a tragedy, what can we say about the sheer numbers of this pandemic and the madness of the federal response?

In United States of America, from Jan 20 to 2:00am CEST, 15 April 2020, there have been 578,268 confirmed cases of COVID-19 with 23,476 deaths. (https://covid19.who.int/region/amro/country/us)

I’m not really sure how to address this. In less than a week, we will see the number of cases of COVID-19 in the US in three months exceed the number of AIDS cases recorded in 20 years. And we knew how to prevent the outbreak, or at least lessen its effects, and we knew what was needed to safely take care of those suffering. (In fairness, we knew how to do those things relatively early on in the AIDS crisis, too.) And we didn’t. Not only were we as a nation unable to meet this crisis in a unified way, we were undermined from the outset by the avarice of those who should have been setting sane policy.

In Illness as Metaphor, Susan Sontag discusses the different ways in which tuberculosis and cancer were treated by the medical profession and by family members of those suffering those diseases. TB had an odd romance about it, but in both cases, even the mention of the disease was thought to add another burden to the patient. One of several dozen key points she makes is that, ‘All this lying to and by cancer patients is a measure of how much harder it has become in advanced industrial societies to come to terms with death. (Ch. 1)’

This speaks volumes to how much we as a society really want to believe that getting back to normal, opening the markets, and so forth is preferable to addressing the massive numbers of suffering on our doorsteps. I’ll be honest, I’ve only finished two chapters of Illness and haven’t gotten to the second volume, AIDS and Its Metaphors. But I think Sontag will have a lot to say that speaks to our current condition.

The main reason I’m bringing Sontag’s points into this discussion is that we don’t have the time to be either romantic or blithely quiet about COVID-19. We should be studying and learning and financing the science and the health to get to the other side of this. And doing the work to protect one another. But instead we have the anti-science coming out of the White House and folks like the protesters in Michigan demanding society be reopened so they can shop and have their hair done.

I grieve.

My best beloved reads the Economist every week, and occasionally I’ll read an article or two as well. She’s noted to me that periodicals like the Economist, the Financial Times and the Wall Street Journal are written for people with an interest in the proliferation of money. As such they’re (historically) neither right-wing nor left-wing. Save for the elephant in the room, of course.

I was rereading a column from last June from the Economist’s ‘Bartleby Blog’. On the web site, this blog is subtitled ‘Thoughts on management and the world of work, in the spirit of the “scrivener” of Herman Melville’s 1853 novel’. This alone is problematic for a number of reasons:

  • Bartleby the Scrivener is a short story, not a novel.
  • The titular character of Bartleby the Scrivener would rather starve than work. His catch phrase is ‘I would prefer not to.’ He utters this phrase whenever his boss or others ask him to do something.
  • It seems that whoever named the blog took note of Bartleby’s initial burst of hard work, not the fact that by the end of the story, he’s been evicted, arrested, and starves in the Tombs, Manhattan’s municipal jail.

With all of this in mind, I point you to the June 29th edition of the blog in which the writer discusses the differences between American and European working hours and vacation habits.

First point: In 1979, the average worker in the US and Europe put in about 38.2 hours per week. Later measurements diverge. By 2000, the US worker was putting in 39.4 hours. This fell to 38.6 hours in 2016.

Second point: European and US workers differ in the amount of holiday they take. Rather than looking at the number of days off each culture has, the blogger points out that over the course of a year, Americans average 34 hours per week, the French 28 hours and the Germans 26.

Third point: The wealthy in the US work longer hours, but still tend to work in daylight as opposed to cleaners and food delivery people who mostly work at night.

Why the differences? Taxation? Possibly. But the key point is made in the passive voice: ‘Another potential explanation is that a decline in trade union membership has weakened American workers’ bargaining power. Except that unionization rates in France and America are not far apart.’

Let’s take a look at that for a moment: What happened to the unions in the US shortly after the 1979 calculation? I’d point to Ronald Reagan’s firing of almost the entire membership of the Professional Air Traffic Controllers Organization rather than bargaining in good faith, given that he had supported the union during his campaign. This act alone signaled the death knell for unions in the United States.

The blogger distinguishes between unionization and policy. What isn’t spoken is how a well unionized country affects policy. Employers in underunionized countries also affect policy. Far more now than they used to. In the US, legislators financed by large employers have succeeded in gutting union power in a variety of areas. And they also succeed in breaking labor laws that protect the rights to unionize. So the question of who shapes policy goes unanswered.

I can’t speak for unionization rates in France, but labor in general speaks louder in Western Europe. Mandated holiday time of at least 20 days per year as a matter of national policy in most EU countries makes a big difference in that average number of hours worked.

Continuing through the blog, we get an assertion that ‘champions of workers’ rights have focused on raising the minimum wage (so far to little avail at the federal level)’. Again, begging the question as to WHY these efforts fail at the federal level. Might it have something to do with who is financing those who set the policy? I have a feeling that it might.

The writer then discusses the longer hours worked by the higher paid than the lower paid in the US. And this class of people discussed: cleaners and food delivery workers? Take a wild guess as to the areas of employment that are the least stable from the employee perspective? And which have unionization efforts stymied by both legal and illegal measures almost before such efforts have begun? Yeah, that would be those classes. It’s not that unionization rates have dropped simply through attrition or that the US minimum wage has stagnated through some kind of Adam Smithian invisible hand of the market. Those with money have made it higher to increase either one to the point of impossibility.

Last week I saw one of those blocks of text posted on Facebook in an image file. I probably know better than to share these things without looking up who the attribution belongs to, but no one who read it called me out on the person who said this:

Treated like starved rats in cages, human beings will interact accordingly. If everyone had jobs, healthcare, education, and safe, affordable housing, relations between humans would be transformed: With nothing to police, there would be no need for police. But with scarcity comes the need to enforce the unequal distribution of resources. The absurd contradiction we must resolve is that capitalist scarcity is artificial. There is more than enough to go around. It is only the profit motive that stands in the way of a rational system of production, distribution, and exchange in harmony with the environment.

(Attributed to a John Peterson – none of the John Petersons or John Petersens on Wikipedia’s disambiguation pages seem to be the type to utter this sort of sentiment. However, a search reveals the quote comes from a July, 2016 editorial published on marxist.com and possibly also in The Socialist Appeal. USA: Police Brutality, Racism, and the Politics of Polarization.)

Two people commented on the post. One offered a pretty flippant restating of the communist declaration (‘to each according to ability, from each according to need’) as ‘To each according to their ability to fake their need, from each according to their ability to hide their skills.’

Francine Orr / Los Angeles Times

There’s no arguing the Marxist perspective of the original quote, but boiling it down to the failure of Communism to produce a just society is missing the point. The second commenter wrote something longer than most of my blog entries in which he described the key failures of communism in Czechoslovakia/the Czech Republic (a place he lived for 20 years and I lived for five). The issues he brought up revolved around the tenet ‘He who does not steal from the state steals from his family’ and the soul-destroying pervasiveness of the state apparatus.

Both of these comments, however, miss the point Peterson is trying to make: We have too much money, food, and housing to deny a roof and a meal to anyone. The scarcity under which we operate is a construct we use to keep a large segment of the population in straits. I can’t explain our defense of the status quo any more than I can explain why we continue to teach children that it’s acceptable to bully the kid being raised by an interracial or same sex couple. Insert comment here about Americans all being frustrated millionaires rather than one medium-sized tragedy or difficulty from being on the street.

The trick, of course, is extricating ourselves. Politically speaking, it’s a nonstarter, at least in the UK and the US. But have you walked over the homeless in any major city? What I keep trying to say here, in as many different ways as I can is that it doesn’t matter how a person gets into straits, or finds herself unable to feed her family or ends up estranged from the network of people who raised him. The social contract we’re in as members of human society should be the one in which a person on the street gets a meal, a roof, care.

I have found myself and others concerned with the difference between what that poor person gets and what we have. And what we’ve earned that they haven’t. Politics always plays into this craziness and the flip side of housing the family on the street is looking at extreme wealth. I do begrudge the very wealthy their fortunes for a variety of reasons, the main one being that there are hungry people on our streets. Another is that the extremely wealthy find it easier to maintain power structures that enable the hoarding of wealth. And then there’s the way extreme wealth seems to multiply for some at about same rate as extreme poverty multiplies for the rest of society. Earlier I was looking at the Wikipedia article on presidential candidate Michael Bloomberg. In passing, the article notes that in 2009, Bloomberg’s wealth was approximately 16 billion dollars. Think of how many people you know that have even 16 thousand dollars available to them. At the time, Bloomberg was worth one million times that sum. One question is, how has he nearly quadrupled that fortune in ten years? I think we can look at most members of the two houses of the US Congress and find similar expansions of fortune, in terms of rate, if not scale.

And I ask: Leaving 10 billion dollars in his pockets, how many people can you feed, clothe, and house for 50 billion dollars? Flip it around. If you could levy a one-time tax on wealth of that magnitude of even 10%, how many people could Bloomberg feed for six billion dollars? When we talk about how to feed people in the US, we have to look at the people in those strata because the wealth keeps getting sucked up and none of it trickles down, notwithstanding the lies of Ronald Reagan all the economists he and his successors parroted.

At what point does the hoard just become accumulation for the sake of accumulation? We know that shame plays no role in this. If it did, we wouldn’t have people working multiple jobs just to keep one step or half a step ahead of winding up in a tent city under a freeway. When does the fact that San Francisco, New York, and Manchester, London, Vancouver and Rio de Janeiro having large sectors that look like something out of the Grapes of Wrath reveal to us the poverty of our responses?

And how large do we have to think for this situation to become largely unacceptable? We’ve been accepting it so long, that it seems normal.