The Rights of Man and... Taxpayer?

It's been some time since I've posted. That's what happens when school starts: you have no time for the things that really matter in your life. But, seeing to it that it's Election Day (and I have the school day off), I think I'm long overdue to post something, particular something about my feelings on the now-occurring election.

Not surprisingly, I have read a butt-load of political articles and what have you, mostly about hackneyed topics, such as the current "financial crisis" (or, more specifically, what to do--and not do--about the crisis), about Palin, about the implications of an Obama presidency. Which is all very nice and dandy, but nothing as of yet has addressed one of my prime annoyances of our country's politics and media and culture in general: the tendency to take such a narrow view of things.

This isn't just a high school student's pretentiousness (for once); there are, indeed, serious matters which hardly ever get brought up during these political high tides. The things that do get brought up--pork-barrel spending, abortion, the economy, the Iraq war--are all valid issues to discuss, and I don't mean to patronize these issues or the people who like to discuss them. However, I am inclined to believe they are the shadows of much larger considerations. For instances, where are the conversations about:

• the use and distribution of power in both our country and at large?

• the purpose and effectiveness of fighting a war against terror--that is, against a concept?

• the fact that, while the upper class is fretting about maybe having to settle for five-figure-salaries instead of six-figure-ones, more than a third of the world's population lives on less than 2 dollars a day?

• the dangers of the two-party system as only a step away from a one-party system, particularly with the rise of "bipartisanship?"

• the application of the law and the justification of its use by "authority?"

And these are just five matters. Given a week, I could come up with a least twenty, if not more.

These may seem inconsequential to politics on the surface--what the hell does the application of the law have to do with anything, I already hear you saying--but they have grave consequences. In the case of the "application of law" question: how a candidate regards the nature and application of the law and authority is a good thermometer to determine that candidates' views on the use of force. A candidate who insists that lawbreakers have broken the law and mustn't be shown mercy in any circumstance reveals that he may tend to view legal situations in a very black-and-white, absolute, objective sense--which would spill over into how such a candidate might react to suspected terrorists, or corruption within their administration, or immigration, or prison reform, for example. And these broad topics are not mutually exclusive: immigration is an issue that can fall under both the use of force (application of the law/authority) and the distribution of power (defining who has and doesn't have the authority to enter this country legally).

I'm not a complete cynic: I'm sure these conversations are happening somewhere, probably in some backroom at some small forgotten liberal arts college, at the very least. But they are not happening (or happening often enough) where they would have the greatest impact: with ordinary people. (I mean, can you imagine Joe the Plumber talking with his colleagues about the dangers of bipartisanship slipping into an effective one-party situation?) If these large, big-idea questions dominated the political sense as much as the small, narrow issues did, then I would have more hope and higher expectations with regards to this whole 18-month political debacle.

Having read others' opinions and listened to others' beliefs, I have come to a conclusion of why this narrow-minded outlook has dominated our political climate. In one sentence (well, in one sentence fragment), it is this: the reduction of citizen to taxpayer.

Strike up a conversation with any typical disgruntled middle-class American, and one definite topic is guaranteed to rear its ugly head at some point in the discussion: taxes. (Just think of Joe the Plumber.) How much they'll change, who will have to pay what, what the government intends to do with the money: no topic has so taken ahold the American imagination as the monster of taxes.

Such is the American fear of taxes that the concept of the citizen has effectively been discarded and eroded and the idol of the taxpayer resurrected in its place. Long forgotten is that sense of civic duty, of social responsibility, of direct action--in short, of not simply living in a democracy, but participating in a democracy, belonging to a democracy (or a democratic republic or whatever term the political science police would judge the most accurate). Other than taxes, the only real "citizen-like" duty Americans internalize is voting. Taxes and voting are both important issues in and of themselves, but the idea of American citizenship should not contain itself only to November 4th and April 15th; American citizenship should express itself all the time. There is much, much more to being an American besides voting and taxes, but listening to types like Joe the Plumber, no one would know.

So, my challenge to Americans on this historical election night is, ironically enough, to be an America--a real one--and get involved. Not just to vote and expect our politicians to lower taxes and work miracles, but for us, as a country, to be our own miracle. The momentum and the excitement and, most significantly, the actions of ordinary Americans packed into this one election for the past 18 months or so shows the true fiber and strength still remaining in America's citizens, citizens who ultimately do care about more than just taxes or any one of those small cliche issues, citizens who care about something much greater than themselves: the state of our country. Imagine if the same energy put into this election by Americans everywhere was put into improving communities or fighting for causes or helping each other out or even just caring more about what's happening around us. This newfound fervor for civic duty and social responsibility would indeed redefine the concept of citizenship in America, one entailing much more than just taxpaying and voting. It would, in the long run, create a revitalized American culture--one capable, perhaps, of asking questions like the ones mentioned at the beginning of this post.

I am certainly not known for neither my patriotism nor my optimism, but let me say this: if this election has done anything, it has given me hope that, no matter who wins, the potential to redefine American democracy certainly exists; it is only a matter of action. One of my teachers once told me "to act" is "to do", and I'll add: "to do" is "to change." And change is what this election season has really been about for Americans.

So go out and make a change, no matter how small. Because that's what patriotism is really about: caring enough about your country to make those changes.

The Disintegration of the American Left

So here I am, yet again, exploring the domains of the political left on the web, and I am, yet again, disappointed by a most annoying and pitiful recurring theme: the deliberate fragmentation of the American Left. By this I mean the tendency for people describing themselves as left-wing to denounce, attack, and even vilify other ideological positions held by those who also describe themselves as left-wing.

At first, this seems not only negligible, but inevitable and perhaps even desirable; a diversity of opinions and ideas, even conflicting opinions and ideas, is always better than a monolithic and inflexible movement, right? Yes, with this much I agree. But this view of the situation ignores an important point: that there can be a comfortable balance between unity of position and plurality of thought among the left. And as justification that this view is more than just my own hopeful idealism, a good example of a group that has more or less achieved this balance with success is to be found in what seems the most unlikely and surprising place: the American Right. That's no typo: the political right wing in this country has done of fine job of remaining fairly united while holding varied and often diverging beliefs.

In saying this, I am not suggesting that I necessarily agree the typical ideals of the right, or even that conservatives don't have their share of internal disagreements about the way things should be. However, I am suggesting that the left can learn a lot from observing the structure of its direct opposite. Although it often doesn't seem so, there are many different types of American conservatives, many of whom you would expect to be fiercely against one another (and oftentimes are). But these various types of people all classify themselves in a politically similar way and manage to get along doing so.

To explain my point: war mongers and ultra-patriots who advance an aggressive foreign policy typically support the right--along with paleoconservative isolationists who want nothing to do with other countries. Poor rural farmers steeped in traditional values and wary of innovation share a party with rich big-city businessmen who advocate technological progress. Blue-collar workers hurt by outsourcing support the same party as do company executives who choose to outsource for profit's sake. Opponents of welfare and immigration stand with religious types who espouse helping the poor and downtrodden. Supporters of creationism and intelligent design are grouped with neo-liberals who envision an every-man-for-himself, survival-of-the-fittest style of capitalism. Libertarian students against big government rally with pro-life proponents of the death penalty, the war-on-drugs, and heterosexual-only marriage. Gun-loving, do-it-yourself truck drivers and wild west, foul-mouthed rogues are ring-wing, together with family-values, stay-at-home mothers who eschew vulgarity and impropriety in any form and champion abstinence, equality and the community.

As you can easily see, the only thing all these different people share in common is that they are not liberal. And yet somehow, all these groups can overcome their differences and combine into a single, united movement known as the political right. The stereotypical conservative can belong to practically any demographic group in today's America. And furthermore, the right wing has proved that it can adapt, as shown in the disappointment with Bush from many conservatives.

Of course, if the American Right is this diverse, it would only hold that the American Left also has its share of diversity--which it does. However, the essential difference between the groups on the right and those on the left is that the left's groups do not tend to get along as well. The anarchists are upset with those who envision a stronger federal government; militant atheists against any breach of church and state step on the feet of believers who also believe in religious expression and pluralism; there's the perpetual rivalry between reformers and revolutionaries; a liberal overly concerned with human rights, equality, and not offending others gets labeled a 'pansy,' even by fellow liberals; supporters of marijuana legalization are dismissed as no more than disgruntled stoners by others on the left; urban minorities and the liberal elite often find themselves at odds; intellectuals proclaim the decadence of the entertainment industry while directors, writers, and actors within the industry itself often try to open the minds of their viewers; animal rights activists are derided as too soft and sentimental by those on the hard left. The list could go on and on.

Though these groups share the commonality of belonging to the left, each spends much of its time attacking other leftist positions and defending itself against the attacks of others. And worse yet, many of these do not show as much flexibility and openness of thought as the adjective 'liberal' might suggest. Much of the internal animosity, I believe, stems from an embedded arrogance among many in the left-wing: the attitude that their opinion is the only true, valid one to hold, and that anything less doesn't even deserve to be considered part of the same movement. But, ironic as it might sound, these groups within the left need to take cue from those on the right and become more cooperative rather than competitive. In some strange feat, the conservatives have basically mastered this, and liberals would do well to use them as a model of what the left could be.

With a good possibility of a liberal president taking office this upcoming January, the inner solidarity of the left takes on a new significance. Cooperation with others outside one particular outlook is what will keep the American Left from disintegrating into a mass of squabbling, conflicted, self-serving, pompous, narrow special interest groups. Even if McCain is elected, the left will still have to hold together in order to have any vitality as a political position that can counterbalance the right. And anyone who considers him- or herself left-wing would do well to keep an open mind about expressions of leftism different from his or her own.

I am one who believes that some ideas have more merit than others, that a group shouldn't compromise its ideals simply for the sake of convenience, and that authoritarian entities are inherently dangerous. But these points are not at odds with the formation of an American Left united in its differences. Individuals need not have to compromise their ideals nor submit to relativism (that is, the belief all ideas have equal truth) in order to recognize a political association in common with others. This much we can see in the organization of the American Right. Opinions can (or rather should) still be challenged, and ideological disagreement is a given. But the groups of the left must be able to see beyond themselves lest the entire left risk falling apart. And it is up to American liberals to make this decision; a post on a blog is, in the end, only that. The political left in this country has to choose either to integrate or disintegrate; the only thing the left has left to do is make the choice.

The Political Divide in the Workplace

This is less thorough and more shallow than my previous posts, but also more entertaining--and much, much shorter.

While browsing the Mother Jones website (yet again) I found an article called "Work, Then Party" that lists which political party people are more likely to donate to based on their occupation. Some of them are not surprising (organic farmers are overwhelming liberal) but a few are (house husbands are apparently very supportive of conservatives). It also lists the amount of money per occupation donated to the 2008 presidential campaign within a certain time.

Just thought it might be a cool time-waster, if nothing else.

The Pursuit of Unhappiness: the Connection Between Economics and Well-Being

Last week I spent much of my computer time browsing through more well-known blogs and the websites of different periodicals, searching for topics that piqued my interest. For the periodical websites, I'd rummage through the archives for this year and last and found several that I wished to print out and keep. And so it was that I chanced upon an article in the Mother Jones archives titled "Reversal of Fortune."

The article, a little over a year old, describes how even though Americans have been getting progressively richer, our happiness is not improving. The author, Bill McKibben, begins by describing how we, as a country, mistakenly believe that greater economic growth by default also means greater prosperity for everyone. He has an strong environmental bent: he cites that uncontrolled economic growth uses up nonrenewable resources, setting itself up to eventually becoming unsustainable, and that it also changes the climate in drastically negative ways (no news there). But he further develops this argument into how rampant economic growth is also having a negative impact on people--and not just the poor or disadvantaged.

A major theme throughout McKibben's article is how our current system is slowly (or perhaps not-so-slowly) eroding the ties that bring people together, and that these ties are the key to a happier life. People are now more isolated than they've ever been, and McKibben thinks this accounts for the relative constant of happiness despite a growing economy since the 1950s. He also notes that these ties previously put a check on unbridled economic pursuit; people used to be more mindful of the communities they belonged to. McKibben points out that Adam Smith (who developed the economic theory that would become capitalism in The Wealth of Nations) had this in mind when he envisioned capitalism working to make everyone richer. But now, with the decreased power of these ties, the economy is left to its own devices at the expense of the people, far from Smith's vision.

McKibben does note that happiness will increase with more money--but only up to a certain amount. (The breaking point appears to be $10,000 per person.) People who live in financial insecurity and poverty typically aren't meeting their basic needs: healthy food, adequate housing, access to medical care, etc. But once these needs are met, the level of happiness correlates more with one belonging to a strong network of people (i.e., relating to a larger community) rather than how many possessions one can rack up.

McKibben ends by suggesting that we move ourselves more toward a more localized, sustainable economic system rather than the present rampant global economic network. He addresses potential skepticism by explaining how smaller, independent farming methods are actually more efficient than large-scale, agribusiness-based farming. McKibben connects this to the beginning of his article by noting that smaller farms would also put less strain on the environment, relying less on industrial machinery and more on human and animal labor (i.e., energy from bio-fuels instead of fossil fuels). And better yet, smaller, more decentralized enterprises such as these would promote the community ties that increase happiness (and personal autonomy), creating a more-fulfilling system for everyone.

Although it has a few typos here and there, McKibben does a good job of developing his point, providing numerous examples, statistics, and quotes. The article can be found here if you want to read it for yourself. However, it equals thirteen pages printed out, so I don't expect many to actually read all the way through it--hence my long description above. If you're really into this kind of stuff, supplementary information for the article can be found here, including this 25-page study on the relationship (or lack thereof) of economics and happiness.

However, while I was browsing on the Freakonomics blog a few days earlier, I remembered running into a series of posts labeled "The Economics of Happiness," most of which support the finding that happiness actually will increase with money--directly at odds with the conclusions in McKibben's article. The first and second posts specifically ("Reassessing the Easterlin Paradox"and "Are Rich Countries Happier than Poor Countries?") point out that happiness can increase with money, providing data to support this finding (including a graph that portrays the correlation as nearly linear). However, Justin Wolfers, the author of these posts, does note some anomalies that he can't account for, such as trends relating to Belgium and Ireland ("Will Raising the Incomes of All Raise the Happiness of All?"). Also, in an unrelated series of posts called "The Politics of Happiness," Arthur Brooks explores the relationship behind political identity and happiness, and possible reasons for it. One of his findings is that conservatives are, on the average, happier than liberals, with one of the reasons being that conservatives tend to be more religious--i.e., they have stronger community ties, which is right in line with McKibben's point that communities increase happiness. In Brooks's third post he even cites one of the same people McKibben cites in his article. In an article for the Atlantic Monthly, David Brooks (unrelated to Arthur Brooks, as far as I know) describes his experience observing a small, rural, poorer conservative town, and how their sense of community was much stronger than in the liberal suburb that he lived in. When Brooks spoke with some of the townspeople, most liked where they lived, despite the fact that Brooks's suburb was wealthier. But nonetheless, Wolfers findings can't be ignored, and essentially puts the question back in a state of being unanswered. Is the pursuit of happiness conditional on the pursuit of riches?

This contradiction aside, there is another interesting point about McKibben's article: its message is somewhat similar to that of the Unabomber's essay (albeit McKibben is more toned down, more thought-through, and offers realistic suggestions). Both authors share the view that the current system of economic-technological development is a detriment to our well-being (defined as either happiness (McKibben) or self-fulfillment and autonomy (Kaczynski)) because it has disrupted the strong social ties that originally supported people and kept the economy in check, in addition to destroying the environment. Moreover, Arthur Brooks's posts (and David Brooks's observations) finding lower happiness levels among liberals vaguely echo Kaczynski's explanation of people affected by "leftism" dedicating themselves to the causes of oppressed groups as a surrogate activity due to their supposed feelings of inferiority. However, I would say that McKibben and the others are a better source of information than Kaczynski, due to their citations of statistics and other studies to support their conclusions.

Of course, this has left us in a conundrum. Can money indeed buy happiness? Or is our pursuit of happiness being constantly hampered by our belief that it can be bought?

Reading the Unabomber's Manifesto

Now, onto the event that inspired the creation of this blog.

I was at my friend's house, on the computer doing what I always do on the computer: browsing Wikipedia. To call it 'browsing' is actually a bit laid back of me; more accurately it would be something like a 'reading spree,' the way you might go to the bookstore, spend five hours there, and end up buying ten books--when all you had intended to do was use the bathroom and leave.

Now was one of those times. I'd started out looking up Yale but ending up at an article on Ted Kaczynski (better known as the "Unabomber"). It was not the first time I had visited this article (I have a penchant for revisiting good Wikipedia articles) but it was some time ago, and I'd now forgotten most of it. Intending to soon move onto another article, I began to read and, like getting sidetracked at the bookstore, ended up reading the whole article.

The article mentioned that Ted Kaczynski convinced The New York Times and the Washington Post to print his essay in order to get him to stop his terrorism. The essay, titled "Industrial Society and Its Future," is available in full on Wikisource via a link in the article.

I was intrigued: what could possibly be so important to Kaczynksi that he felt the need to organize an entire bomb-mailing campaign? Thus I began reading the 35,000 word paper, and did not stop until I had finished.

Let's not be mistaken: I am not, in any way, condoning the man's actions. He killed three people and injured many others. But his essay, though certainly lacking in some places and not as well organized as it could be, explains to the reader what I thought was a perceptive and insightful view of our present society. To oversimplify, Kaczynski describes how today's society prevents the average person from reaching true fulfillment (and, by extension, real freedom), and how this is being caused by the advancement of technology. He ends with a call for a revolution that will stop the growth of technology and thus the expansion of a system that constrains human nature.

He says more than that, of course (I entirely left out his highly amusing explication of "leftism"); you can read the complete essay, with footnotes, for yourself here. I do not personally sympathize with his view that technology can be successfully overthrown or even stopped, more so reversed. I do, however, see his point that technology is heading in a direction that will eventually (as in maybe 100 years from now or so) be detrimental to humanity as a whole.

My initial reaction to the essay was a unsettling feeling of dread; I have found yet again something else to exacerbate my own pessimism about what horrific events might unfold during my lifetime, among others.

But more than that, his essay raised many more questions in my mind. If Kaczynski is right--that technology will eventually eclipse humanity--is that necessarily a bad thing? I mean, I know; we humans are of the utmost importance to ourselves, and it is natural to want to oppose anything that may threaten our very existence. But everything runs its natural course. Humanity has not existed forever, and I highly doubt we were meant to exist forever. The dinosaurs had their heyday; now maybe humanity is reaching its own swan song. Perhaps technological dominance is simply the next stage in the historical timeline. But this view smacks of determinism; no one wants to think he or she cannot control their own fate.

I wanted to know others' reaction to the essay, and found this. It highly analytical, probably overly so, doing more criticizing than anything else--and the author can't seem to spell Kaczynski's name right. But it does at least make some valuable points, points that the essay's possible sympathizers would have to grapple with. A less scathing and more accessible review of the essay by another blogger can be found here, which provides a thoughtful response to the ideas presented in the essay. A commenter called Bobo challenges many of the essay's ideas on a logical ground as well.

These are not the only reviews, of course. A certain Scott Tinley has even created an addendum, adding his own words to Kaczynski's. Alston Chase gives an insightful description in The Atlantic Online of the public's changing attitude to Kaczynski's essay, although I admit I've not read this entire article. But my purpose is not to list all the reactions to the essay. I wish to see what others make of it. Is the paper simply the product of a deranged murderer? Or does it have merit, and possibly even truth? Should we heed Kaczynski's warning to start some sort of revolution against technology before it's too late? Or is the paper a bunch of hogwash, and I'm only wasting my time blogging about it? What are the ethical implications of even suggesting the paper has some merit; by doing that are we, on some level, excusing or perhaps even lauding the actions Kaczynski took to get the paper published?

These are the questions running through my mind; I want to see what answers (and questions) other people have running through theirs.

Welcome

Welcome to The Drawing Board, a blog that highlights the thoughts and musings of the Rhino.

My interests in philosophy, critical theory, literature, and myriad other things often lead me to spending much of my time reading, writing, and thinking about these interests of mine. Frequently being physically unable to discuss these different ideas, I've created this blog in hopes of being able to bounce my thoughts off those of others, using the feedback to create new and different ideas--and leading me to read, write, and think about yet even more things. Thus this blog helps facilitate the exchange of ideas--kind of like a "philosophic" drawing board.

Feel free to browse, explore, and comment--your input is much appreciated.