In case my humble little blog happens to be inaugurating your return to the Internet after a very long coma, I have a heads-up for you: There's a presidential election in less than six weeks. For everyone else, this is probably not news, considering the permanent news cycle the modern media operates on to feed Americans' insatiable appetite for political punditry. And if you've so much as glanced at a newspaper, a political talk show or any of the three billion Web sites where jerks like me profess to have something important to say, you already can sense that this election promises to be close, hard-fought and nasty. True believers on the left have turned the Obama campaign into a cult following while his detractors hate him enough to rally around former beauty pageant runner-up Sarah Palin, the anti-Obama if ever there was one, as our country takes another step down the dark path of complete political polarization.
But is all the divisiveness really justified? Are the two candidates so night-and-day, so black-and-white that battle lines must be drawn all across our fractured union? Because at least on one issue, Obama and McCain share a great deal of common ground: the trifling little flap over global warming.
While they differ on certain details, Obama and McCain both favor implementation of a cap-and-trade system to gradually reduce U.S. emissions of greenhouse gases to levels consistent with what scientists claim are necessary to ward off the specter of global warming. (In a cap-and-trade regimen, the "right" to emit greenhouse gases is effectively rationed, and over time, the rations become smaller, requiring increasing cuts in emissions.) So whoever wins in November, it's a safe bet that there's going to be a radical overhaul of how our energy sector supplies the electricity that does so much to distinguish our society from the Stone Age.
Which ought to cause everyone a fair amount of concern, because it's already apparent how difficult this green remedy will be to implement, for the very simple reason that clean energy does not grow on trees, so the more of it we are required to produce, the greater the challenge will become. In an excellent piece of reporting today, The New York Times runs down the major reasons why coal, the dirtiest fuel for power plants and the biggest single cause of CO2 emissions in this country, is so central to our present economy, and why so few viable alternatives to coal are available. Nuclear plants? No emissions, but expensive and time-consuming to build. Oil? Too expensive to compete with coal, not especially green. Natural gas? Much cleaner, but in short supply.
So one might be forgiven for celebrating a little bit at the news that lots of utility companies and venture capitalists are rushing to build power plants that turn free, abundant sunshine into clean electricity. In the very next article on this page, The Times reports the U.S. Bureau of Land Management has received applications to build enough solar power plants to replace 70 (!) coal-burning plants across the country, particularly in southern California. If you're looking for a solution to the climate crisis that environmentalists have been scaring us with for years, this looks like a pretty good one: a renewable energy source with no emissions and builders lining up to get cracking. Huzzah!
But wait. I don't know if The Times deliberately places these stories side by side for the sake of irony, but there's a sickening amount of it. Because the real story of these solar saviors is the tremendous opposition to them being mounted by local environmentalist groups who fear that, among other ecological calamities, the Mojave ground squirrel and the desert tortoise might be displaced by all the mirrors and photo-voltaic cells.
Let that sink in for a moment. Amid the deafening clamor for solutions to what is being billed as a crisis that could do incalculable damage to the entire globe, a crisis that has sufficiently galvanized public opinion that both presidential candidates call for sweeping solutions, a tiny little cadre of the environmentalist movement is saying, "Not on my jojoba farm, and not if the Mojave ground squirrel and I have anything to say about it." In response to state regulators and utilities who are desperate to find energy sources to meet California's stringent renewable energy quotas, these squirrel activists want to keep "big solar" out, presumably so they can continue communing with the Earth Spirit in their unspoiled desert Eden.
Their solution? Build little solar panels somewhere else, on someone else's roof, through government subsidies paid for by someone else. (The Times notes, in excellent "just the facts, ma'am" style, that it will take a century for small, inefficient rooftop solar panels to provide enough electricity to meet the state's renewable quota coming up in 2010.) It's almost comical, except that this little farce in the desert serves as an excellent harbinger of just how acrimonious cap-and-trade might turn out, in no small part because certain elements of the green movement are completely intolerant of any human activity that sullies any small corner of the world's ecosystem. These high priests of the biosphere have effectively decreed that energy must be clean and have zero impact on all the species and habitats they hold dear. Any proposal that falls short of this lofty standard is rejected on the grounds of sacrilege.
And lest I start to sound like a villain in a "Captain Planet" episode, I ought to mention that I have no particular beef with the Mojave ground squirrels, and that I'd rather they go on about their squirrelish affairs in peace. But I see no reason why they can't, considering that companies that lease acres in the desert for erecting solar panels have to purchase three times as much acreage for conservation purposes. I ask only that certain environmentalists get serious about this looming climate crisis they dread so much, and recognize that the solution they've championed is going to be costly for everyone. Physics only offers us a limited array of solutions to combat global warming, and they all come with a price tag. Even the Mojave ground squirrel needs to pitch in.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Safety First! (And Last, and Always)
I realize that it's become almost a cliche to bemoan the machinations of safety nazis, those crusading do-gooders who wish to see every action, substance or thought deemed unhealthy or dangerous banned by government fiat. Serious social commentators and stand-up comedians alike have been seizing on nanny-state rules like mandatory bike helmets and the hysteria over second-hand smoke for years, and it's become a tired routine. Meanwhile, the protect-yourself-from-yourself movement advances apace. The freedom to smoke a cigarette in a bar is rapidly disappearing, and in places like New York City, mentally sound, responsible adults can no longer choose whether to eat food cooked with trans fats, because the city has thoughtfully made the choice for them by banning trans fats in all restaurants.
That being said, a new call to further suppress individual freedom in the name of safety has recently come to my attention, quite by chance. It is neither a genuinely new nor different idea; sadly, it's only too representative of the creeping mindset that people must be coerced into doing what's best for them. I highlight it only because it provides such an astonishingly frank glimpse into a philosophical quagmire afflicting modern society, and its logical consequences.
In a recent op-ed in The New York Times, Kent Sepkowitz illustrates why medical professionals should not be permitted to make transportation policy. If you're the impatient type, allow me to summarize his argument: Thousands of people die in automobile accidents every year, and many of those accidents are the result of speeding, and since motorists continue to speed in spite of preventive measures like speeding tickets, new cars should be physically prevented from exceeding 75 miles per hour by the installation of speed-governing technology.
Of course, one could write for pages about possible flaws in the soundness and validity of this argument. One could, for instance, point out that in Germany, the rate of vehicle fatalities on the notorious autobahn (much of which has no speed limit), as measured in deaths per billion kilometers driven, is substantially lower than on other German roads with slower traffic speeds. Or one could note that in 2007, Utah and Vermont recorded the exact same number of deaths per 100 million miles driven (1.11), despite the fact that Utah's highway speed limit is 75 mph, whereas Vermonters are limited to 65 mph. Or one could simply pose a hypothetical question: Which is more dangerous, driving 60 mph on a quiet residential street where the posted limit is 25, or driving 80 mph on a deserted interstate highway?
These are all reasonable technical objections, but they all miss the point, because none reveals the philosophical problem with Sepkowitz's proposal. To argue about the empirical evidence is to concede that government mandates are an acceptable substitute for individual responsibility. Driving a motor vehicle, whether limited by a speed governor or not, will always be a potentially dangerous activity, and there is no end to the ways in which an irresponsible person can kill himself and others while doing it. To argue that individual human beings cannot be trusted to sufficiently value their own lives, and therefore must be physically restrained from endangering themselves, exhibits condescension bordering on outright contempt for humanity's capacity to make free and rational choices.
Some people will inevitably make the wrong choices; drive for an hour on any major highway and I guarantee you'll see someone driving like a maniac, imperiling his own life and the lives of those around him. But there are only two ways to interpret this observation. You can conclude that human beings are fallible creatures who sometimes do very stupid things, accept that this is part of the human condition, and strive to avoid those poor choices in your own life. Or you can draw the Kent Sepkowitz conclusion: that because some human beings will make poor choices and do stupid things, choice must be revoked by law.
Of course, adopting the latter conclusion carries certain logical requirements. If, for instance, overly fast cars must be taken away from drivers who cannot be trusted to drive them safely, then a whole range of dangerous actions should also succumb to the same standard. Off the top of my head, I can think of quite a few obvious hazards we must not permit people to run: smoking (any where at any time), drinking (too much potential for excessive consumption), contact sports and mountain biking (too many broken bones if not enjoyed safely), motorcycles (too little utilitarian value to balance the physical risks), sky-diving and bungee-jumping (for obvious reasons). It's a long and disparate list of perils, united only by the common trait that, if conducted recklessly, they can all lead to death.
Where does it end? Honestly, I have no idea. But when you adopt the tautological position that the objective of life is first and foremost to preserve and extend life, this is the road you find yourself going down. Presumably at no more than 75 mph.
That being said, a new call to further suppress individual freedom in the name of safety has recently come to my attention, quite by chance. It is neither a genuinely new nor different idea; sadly, it's only too representative of the creeping mindset that people must be coerced into doing what's best for them. I highlight it only because it provides such an astonishingly frank glimpse into a philosophical quagmire afflicting modern society, and its logical consequences.
In a recent op-ed in The New York Times, Kent Sepkowitz illustrates why medical professionals should not be permitted to make transportation policy. If you're the impatient type, allow me to summarize his argument: Thousands of people die in automobile accidents every year, and many of those accidents are the result of speeding, and since motorists continue to speed in spite of preventive measures like speeding tickets, new cars should be physically prevented from exceeding 75 miles per hour by the installation of speed-governing technology.
Of course, one could write for pages about possible flaws in the soundness and validity of this argument. One could, for instance, point out that in Germany, the rate of vehicle fatalities on the notorious autobahn (much of which has no speed limit), as measured in deaths per billion kilometers driven, is substantially lower than on other German roads with slower traffic speeds. Or one could note that in 2007, Utah and Vermont recorded the exact same number of deaths per 100 million miles driven (1.11), despite the fact that Utah's highway speed limit is 75 mph, whereas Vermonters are limited to 65 mph. Or one could simply pose a hypothetical question: Which is more dangerous, driving 60 mph on a quiet residential street where the posted limit is 25, or driving 80 mph on a deserted interstate highway?
These are all reasonable technical objections, but they all miss the point, because none reveals the philosophical problem with Sepkowitz's proposal. To argue about the empirical evidence is to concede that government mandates are an acceptable substitute for individual responsibility. Driving a motor vehicle, whether limited by a speed governor or not, will always be a potentially dangerous activity, and there is no end to the ways in which an irresponsible person can kill himself and others while doing it. To argue that individual human beings cannot be trusted to sufficiently value their own lives, and therefore must be physically restrained from endangering themselves, exhibits condescension bordering on outright contempt for humanity's capacity to make free and rational choices.
Some people will inevitably make the wrong choices; drive for an hour on any major highway and I guarantee you'll see someone driving like a maniac, imperiling his own life and the lives of those around him. But there are only two ways to interpret this observation. You can conclude that human beings are fallible creatures who sometimes do very stupid things, accept that this is part of the human condition, and strive to avoid those poor choices in your own life. Or you can draw the Kent Sepkowitz conclusion: that because some human beings will make poor choices and do stupid things, choice must be revoked by law.
Of course, adopting the latter conclusion carries certain logical requirements. If, for instance, overly fast cars must be taken away from drivers who cannot be trusted to drive them safely, then a whole range of dangerous actions should also succumb to the same standard. Off the top of my head, I can think of quite a few obvious hazards we must not permit people to run: smoking (any where at any time), drinking (too much potential for excessive consumption), contact sports and mountain biking (too many broken bones if not enjoyed safely), motorcycles (too little utilitarian value to balance the physical risks), sky-diving and bungee-jumping (for obvious reasons). It's a long and disparate list of perils, united only by the common trait that, if conducted recklessly, they can all lead to death.
Where does it end? Honestly, I have no idea. But when you adopt the tautological position that the objective of life is first and foremost to preserve and extend life, this is the road you find yourself going down. Presumably at no more than 75 mph.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
A Bridge Too Far
As if the presidential campaign hasn't dragged on long enough already, polarizing a divided country and exhausting anyone who cares about more important stuff (like, for instance, the start of the NFL regular season tonight), Sarah Palin's nomination for vice president has flung yet more fuel on the mindless partisan fire. And yet, her sudden elevation to national prominence serves a useful purpose by illustrating something that I'm sure neither party intended or appreciates: In the campaign for the modern presidency, "experience" does not necessarily qualify anyone for the presidency.
Obama supporters, weary after months of defending a presidential candidate with a scant few years in office as a do-nothing senator, are visibly relieved to be able to point fingers at Alaska's new governor and former beauty pageant runner-up and clamor "Well what about her?" If that's the best they've got -- that their opponent's running mate is about as politically green as their presidential candidate -- then the Obama camp is pushing on a string. Nobody who hasn't already made up his or her mind to vote for Obama is going to buy this ridiculous lowest-common-denominator tack.
But rather than wade into the comically vicious argument over whether Barack Obama's experience as a "community organizer" outweighs Sarah Palin's experience as the mayor of a town of fewer than 10,000 residents, I'll simply cut to the chase. No amount of experience can ever prepare any human being to be President of the United States in the year 2009, because the government that president will preside over has grown well beyond the bounds of its founders' intent, or the ability of any one person to direct. No one takes the oath of office and hits the ground running on the first day. At best, they're quick learners who can keep mistakes to a minimum and remember their fallible human nature.
However, you will not hear such prosaic realism from either campaign. Modern politics is plagued by the cherished belief that, in theory, government is almost Jovian in its ability to solve societal problems and make people happy. Almost no one, Republican or Democrat, has the humility to acknowledge that this isn't so. So modern politics is reduced to a maddening, endless squabble over what type and how much government will deliver us to the promised land of civil bliss. George Bush believes that with the proper mix of shock-and-awe firepower and "nation-building," hotbeds of radical Islam can be converted into solid-citizen democracies that love America. Hillary Clinton believes that if she just stays up late enough crunching the numbers, she can keep everyone in America healthy and insured. More ambiguously, Barack Obama seems to believe that he can ordain a new American economy powered by not-yet-existent-but-soon clean energy sources.
Whatever the particular issue, those in power tend to make the same fatal mistake: They wrongly assume that, with just a little more power, they really can cut this or that Gordian knot, and in the process, cement their legacy in the pantheon of great leaders. So they all try to tell average voters they have the "experience" to wield the awesome power the federal government already possesses. And consider the far-reaching extent of that power. The American president has the greatest say in disposing of trillions of tax dollars each year. The American president can enact spending and regulatory policies that throw sand in the gears of the global economy. The American president can launch wars that cost thousands of lives, with or without justification.
So exactly what sort of experience prepares you for the closest any one human can come to playing God? No other role even comes within an order of magnitude of the influence the president exerts. Even prominent senators such as McCain and Biden, who've strode the corridors of power in Washington for decades, are utter pikers compared to whoever occupies the Oval Office. The leap from any previous position to president cannot be measured, in years of "experience" or any other metric. To ascend to the presidency is to go off the charts.
But don't tell that to the professional wonks trying to shape this election, for whom this is largely a pissing contest over who's got more bullet points on his presidential resume. They start with the assumption that government really can cure all our ills, and thus conclude there must be a "right man (or woman)" for the job, and then work backward from that conclusion to arrive, conveniently, at their party's ticket. It is not exactly forbidden to suggest that government is not the answer, but only because you need not forbid an idea that no one holds.
Obama supporters, weary after months of defending a presidential candidate with a scant few years in office as a do-nothing senator, are visibly relieved to be able to point fingers at Alaska's new governor and former beauty pageant runner-up and clamor "Well what about her?" If that's the best they've got -- that their opponent's running mate is about as politically green as their presidential candidate -- then the Obama camp is pushing on a string. Nobody who hasn't already made up his or her mind to vote for Obama is going to buy this ridiculous lowest-common-denominator tack.
But rather than wade into the comically vicious argument over whether Barack Obama's experience as a "community organizer" outweighs Sarah Palin's experience as the mayor of a town of fewer than 10,000 residents, I'll simply cut to the chase. No amount of experience can ever prepare any human being to be President of the United States in the year 2009, because the government that president will preside over has grown well beyond the bounds of its founders' intent, or the ability of any one person to direct. No one takes the oath of office and hits the ground running on the first day. At best, they're quick learners who can keep mistakes to a minimum and remember their fallible human nature.
However, you will not hear such prosaic realism from either campaign. Modern politics is plagued by the cherished belief that, in theory, government is almost Jovian in its ability to solve societal problems and make people happy. Almost no one, Republican or Democrat, has the humility to acknowledge that this isn't so. So modern politics is reduced to a maddening, endless squabble over what type and how much government will deliver us to the promised land of civil bliss. George Bush believes that with the proper mix of shock-and-awe firepower and "nation-building," hotbeds of radical Islam can be converted into solid-citizen democracies that love America. Hillary Clinton believes that if she just stays up late enough crunching the numbers, she can keep everyone in America healthy and insured. More ambiguously, Barack Obama seems to believe that he can ordain a new American economy powered by not-yet-existent-but-soon clean energy sources.
Whatever the particular issue, those in power tend to make the same fatal mistake: They wrongly assume that, with just a little more power, they really can cut this or that Gordian knot, and in the process, cement their legacy in the pantheon of great leaders. So they all try to tell average voters they have the "experience" to wield the awesome power the federal government already possesses. And consider the far-reaching extent of that power. The American president has the greatest say in disposing of trillions of tax dollars each year. The American president can enact spending and regulatory policies that throw sand in the gears of the global economy. The American president can launch wars that cost thousands of lives, with or without justification.
So exactly what sort of experience prepares you for the closest any one human can come to playing God? No other role even comes within an order of magnitude of the influence the president exerts. Even prominent senators such as McCain and Biden, who've strode the corridors of power in Washington for decades, are utter pikers compared to whoever occupies the Oval Office. The leap from any previous position to president cannot be measured, in years of "experience" or any other metric. To ascend to the presidency is to go off the charts.
But don't tell that to the professional wonks trying to shape this election, for whom this is largely a pissing contest over who's got more bullet points on his presidential resume. They start with the assumption that government really can cure all our ills, and thus conclude there must be a "right man (or woman)" for the job, and then work backward from that conclusion to arrive, conveniently, at their party's ticket. It is not exactly forbidden to suggest that government is not the answer, but only because you need not forbid an idea that no one holds.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Trig-Induced
Let me just say from the outset that this post is almost certainly futile and pointless. But I feel compelled to write it anyway.
Tonight, I watched Alaska governor Sarah Palin accept the Republican nomination for vice president. I watched because, like everyone else, I don't really know much about her, except that, unlike most presidential elections, her presence on the ticket might really decide the outcome. Even if the office of vice presidency isn't any more significant than a warm pitcher of spit, it'll be monumental if she ends up playing king-maker.
But about two minutes into her speech, my interest in her was eclipsed by an arresting image on screen, when she introduced her infant son, Trig, who was born with Down Syndrome. I am generally no more moved by other people's babies than the next young man is, but this particular one really made me sit up and take note, for two reasons. First, asleep in his father's arms, he looked as innocent and peaceful as any other sleeping baby. And second, only about one in five unborn children diagnosed with Down Syndrome is permitted to come into existence in this age of genetic diagnosis. The other 80 percent are aborted.
I am by no means a pro-life crusader. I have been fairly ambivalent about abortion for most of my adult life, and I try at all costs to avoid the running argument over its moral validity, largely because the vitriol that any objection to abortion-on-demand arouses in self-described feminists has often cowed me into silence. I simply don't want to bring that sort of wrath down on my head for daring to inject a "Well, maybe..." into a discussion, because there is no room for maybes.
Notable female figures on the political left are almost unanimous in their scorn for Sarah Palin, and it's no secret why. NOW Chairwoman Kim Gandy is quite representative in her dismissal: "Gov. Palin may be the second woman vice-presidential candidate on a major party ticket, but she is not the right woman. Sadly, she is a woman who opposes women's rights, just like John McCain." You simply have to realize that "women's rights" is equivalent to legal abortion.
But seeing that baby, blessedly oblivious to the incredible hoopla surrounding him, I couldn't help thinking, "Why the hell shouldn't he exist?"
It's a question that deserves an answer. The pro-choice arguments usually deal with the health of the mother, or the severe physical, emotional and financial burdens that child birth indisputably place on the mother. But when four-fifths of unborn babies who exhibit a fairly moderate disability are deemed unworthy of continued existence, another factor is clearly at work. Are people with Down Syndrome so irredeemably defective or undesirable that society is better off without them? And if so, what other defects should disqualify a baby from being born? Is this not, as George Will suggested in a 2005 Washington Post column, "eugenics by abortion"?
I pose these questions not to suggest that abortion ought to be outlawed, but simply to express a long-frustrated desire: That we as a society might be able to debate the issue without being shouted down by the zero-sum zealots, on either side, who label any questioning of their position as the foulest heresy. After seeing Trig Palin and realizing how atypical his existence is, I'd simply like to have a more thoughtful, open debate. One in which both sides come with the attitude that perhaps they don't necessarily own the moral high ground and won't hurl invective at each other for disagreeing. Wouldn't our country be better off for it?
Tonight, I watched Alaska governor Sarah Palin accept the Republican nomination for vice president. I watched because, like everyone else, I don't really know much about her, except that, unlike most presidential elections, her presence on the ticket might really decide the outcome. Even if the office of vice presidency isn't any more significant than a warm pitcher of spit, it'll be monumental if she ends up playing king-maker.
But about two minutes into her speech, my interest in her was eclipsed by an arresting image on screen, when she introduced her infant son, Trig, who was born with Down Syndrome. I am generally no more moved by other people's babies than the next young man is, but this particular one really made me sit up and take note, for two reasons. First, asleep in his father's arms, he looked as innocent and peaceful as any other sleeping baby. And second, only about one in five unborn children diagnosed with Down Syndrome is permitted to come into existence in this age of genetic diagnosis. The other 80 percent are aborted.
I am by no means a pro-life crusader. I have been fairly ambivalent about abortion for most of my adult life, and I try at all costs to avoid the running argument over its moral validity, largely because the vitriol that any objection to abortion-on-demand arouses in self-described feminists has often cowed me into silence. I simply don't want to bring that sort of wrath down on my head for daring to inject a "Well, maybe..." into a discussion, because there is no room for maybes.
Notable female figures on the political left are almost unanimous in their scorn for Sarah Palin, and it's no secret why. NOW Chairwoman Kim Gandy is quite representative in her dismissal: "Gov. Palin may be the second woman vice-presidential candidate on a major party ticket, but she is not the right woman. Sadly, she is a woman who opposes women's rights, just like John McCain." You simply have to realize that "women's rights" is equivalent to legal abortion.
But seeing that baby, blessedly oblivious to the incredible hoopla surrounding him, I couldn't help thinking, "Why the hell shouldn't he exist?"
It's a question that deserves an answer. The pro-choice arguments usually deal with the health of the mother, or the severe physical, emotional and financial burdens that child birth indisputably place on the mother. But when four-fifths of unborn babies who exhibit a fairly moderate disability are deemed unworthy of continued existence, another factor is clearly at work. Are people with Down Syndrome so irredeemably defective or undesirable that society is better off without them? And if so, what other defects should disqualify a baby from being born? Is this not, as George Will suggested in a 2005 Washington Post column, "eugenics by abortion"?
I pose these questions not to suggest that abortion ought to be outlawed, but simply to express a long-frustrated desire: That we as a society might be able to debate the issue without being shouted down by the zero-sum zealots, on either side, who label any questioning of their position as the foulest heresy. After seeing Trig Palin and realizing how atypical his existence is, I'd simply like to have a more thoughtful, open debate. One in which both sides come with the attitude that perhaps they don't necessarily own the moral high ground and won't hurl invective at each other for disagreeing. Wouldn't our country be better off for it?
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