Monthly Archive for April, 2011

The American President is not Omnipotent

Christopher Dickey in the Daily Beast has tough criticism of the president’s handling of the Arab uprisings and of his foreign policy generally. He sees Obama as:

a brilliant intellect who is nonetheless confounded by events, a strategist whose strategies are thwarted and who is left with almost no strategy at all, a persuasive politician and diplomat who gets others to crawl out on limbs, has them take big risks to break through to a new future, and then turns around and walks away from them when the political winds in the United States threaten to shift.

Much of the Libya criticism in the piece is valid. If the stated strategic aim of our intervention was to protect vulnerable civilian populations from slaughter, well why did we immediately hamstring that mission with a list of caveats that make its realization impossible? If we have a UN-mandated responsibility to take "all necessary measures" to protect innocent civilians, and if this is a U.S. strategic and humanitarian imperative as the president argued, then why no direct targeting of the Gaddafi regime? Why no arms support to the rebels? Why foreswear the use of ground troops at the outset?

It’s likely that some or all of those things are bad ideas—I sure don’t know—but the perils of a half-assed, "do-something" strategy have been evident from the very beginning. As Napoleon said, "If you start to take Vienna——take Vienna." To tiptoe into a fight after going out of your way to announce that you will be keeping one arm tied behind your back, is to telegraph failure, or as in the Libya case, to all but ensure protracted stalemate. You prolong the very humanitarian crisis you intervened to prevent. And bungling Libya also poisons any chance of making a salutary precedent out of the idea of multilateral internationalist humanitarian intervention.

The muddled Libya policy aside, criticisms of the president’s foreign policy often are animated by the mistaken idea that the American president is omnipotent. It is a serious error to see the unfolding crisis of rebellion and violence in the Middle East as something that can be shaped and molded by the right combination of magical American presidential words and actions. This error is unfortunately widespread. It leads to nutty editorials like this one from the Washington Post, which accuses the president of "shameful inaction" in the face of Assad’s atrocities in Syria, yet never quite gets around to saying what the desired "stronger response" would entail. All we learn is that the situation would somehow markedly improve if only the president would "repudiate Mr. Assad" and get serious about "support[ing] the aspiration of Arabs for greater freedom." Helpful.

The Dickey piece makes the same error of at once accusing the president of being ineffectual and insisting that he is all-powerful: 

[These patterns] were evident from Year 1 of the Obama presidency in his excruciating deliberations over the Afghan surge, in the hand extended ineffectually to Iran, and the lines drawn in the sand, then rubbed out and moved back, and further back, in the dismal, failed efforts to build a Palestinian peace process.

I must ask, does Dickey notice that these three issues—Afghanistan, Iran, and Israel-Palestine—also somehow managed to escape easy resolution by all of Obama’s predecessors in office? In Afghanistan do his "excruciating deliberations" really strike you as the main strategic impediment behind our ongoing troubles in that country? Was President Bush’s famous disdain for measured deliberation the reason that the Afghan war enjoyed such a stellar success from 2001-2009? Or in our ongoing thirty-year cold war with the theocrats of Iran, is the major problem really that Obama "extended his hand ineffectually"? If only he had chosen to extend it effectually! Gosh why didn’t that silver bullet idea come up in all of those excruciating deliberations! And to blame Obama for his "dismal failed efforts to build a Palestinian peace process," well I don’t know what to say. I guess the idea is that the way to solve the most intractable conflict in modern history is for the American president to just resolve to make non-dismal, non-failure inducing efforts. Good tip.

I understand, and share, the sincere desire to help the brave dissidents across the Middle East who are rising up to demand and seize better lives for themselves and their kids. And I understand feeling impotent in our inability to steer events toward outcomes we prefer, and projecting that inability onto our elected officials. I supported the Libyan mission knowing the high liklihood of a muddled outcome. I am sure the administration felt the same way. But we can’t just criticize the sub-optimal Libya policy and then indignantly demand that the president "do something" and "get tougher" in Syria or elsewhere. (Incidentally, Tyler Cowen once noted that anyone who insists that "get tougher" is the elusive solution to a stubborn problem is axiomatically full of crap; as if none of his predecessors ever thought to do that.)

I do not know how to keep Bashar al-Assad from repressing and murdering and maiming his own population. His family has employed versions of this governing style for forty years. I desperately wish I did know. But I am very clear that the answer to this problem, and to innumerable other problems around the world, is not to be found in words spoken or unspoken, deliberations undertaken or aborted, or hands extended or withdrawn, by the president of the United States. It’s too bad, I know. If things were that easy, well, they’d be a whole lot easier wouldn’t they. 

Senator Grassley Argues That Tax Cuts Increase Revenues, Yet Shrink the Size of Government

Here is Chuck Grassley on the Senate floor yesterday, resurrecting the supply-side science fiction called the Laffer Curve to argue against the president’s proposed deficit plan. You see, not only do we not have to raise taxes to deal with our deficit, but happily, cutting taxes increases government revenue and thereby lowers the deficit!

Grassley at least concedes that this position is "counterintuitive", and that the "obvious, common sense" suggests otherwise. As his "historical" evidence, he bizarrely cites the "expanding economy" ushered in by the Bush tax cuts, which he notes lowered the deficit "from 2005 to 2007." You might think this a risibly narrow sample size for such a grand theory, as well as think it quite bold to cite the Bush-era economic record as something to be nostalgic for. The deficit, of course, tripled over the course of Bush’s two terms, and he presided over the collapse of the financial system and the worst recession in generations. Grassley left these historical footnotes out of his little speech.

Anyway, back to those counterintuitive claims, which are mostly counterintuitive because they are so demonstrably untrue. It is pure supply-side mythology, along with the corollary theory called Starve-the-Beast, which postulates that limiting government revenue through tax cuts forces spending restraint which then leads to lower deficits; and conversely, tax increases encourage corresponding spending increases which in turn grow the deficit.

All this has been debunked so thoroughly and so many times, it is shocking to see a veteran Senator so blithely presenting it as fact on the Senate floor. (Here is Bruce Bartlett, former economic advisor to Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush, demolishing both theories in a recent blog post.)

But of course, Senator Grassley knows that none of it is true. And not only does he not really believe it, he can’t even keep the ruse going for the entire length of his floor speech. Immediately after saying that tax relief decreases the deficit, he admits the opposite:

When you look at the sources of the deficit, tax relief has been a small part; unprecedented spending contributed much more to the deficit than the tax relief did.

Now I don’t agree that the Bush tax cuts have been only a "small part" of our deficit trouble, but at least Grassley concedes they play some part, which makes complete nonsense of his stout defense of tax cuts as revenue enhancing.  

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And a little earlier in his speech, inveighing against big government, he argues that tax increases are bad because they grow the government, and growing the government does not grow the economy. But obviously tax increases can’t both lower government revenue and grow the size of government at the same time.  

Yet Republicans cannot let go of this doublethink. Paul Ryan falls victim to it in his proposed 2012 budget resolution. Ryan basically wants to cut services to poor and old people in order to pay for large tax cuts for the wealthy. He’s very upfront about those policy objectives, so good for him I guess. Presumably he is so enamored with cutting taxes on the wealthy because he believes it will unleash a wave of new economic activity and job growth. But even Ryan’s budget admits that there is a trade-off between tax cuts and government revenue. Here is his basic math (which incidentally has already been thoroughly debunked as both erroneous and unfeasible):

  • Cut spending by $5.8 trillion
  • Cut taxes and other revenues by $4.2 trillion
  • Reduce budget deficits by $1.6 trillion over ten years
  • Notice that even though Ryan’s policy objectives priortize tax cuts for the rich as the central driver of economic vitality, he still subtracts his tax/revenue figure from his spending cut figure to get the total deficit reduction number. Grassley seems to be arguing that he should add the two numbers together, since cutting taxes is revenue-enhancing and deficit-reducing. Of course if Grassley or  Ryan actually did that it would be insane.

    My point is that the Republicans’ commitment to tax cuts for the wealthy is mainly about their view that rich people should pay less taxes, full stop. There is no corresponding policy objective. It’s best understood as a statement of their views of class morality and economic desert, and as an electoral strategy, rather than a literal belief in the magical power of tax cuts to do all these simultaneously amazing and incompatible feats.

    Climate Change and Free Will

    Matt Yglesias makes a great point:

    No matter how hard I try, I can’t quite get my head around the combination of Washington’s obsession with decades-away projected fiscal shortfalls and it’s total lack of interest in decades-away projected climate disaster. If you asked me why the political prospects for addressing the climate crisis are so bleak, I’d say it’s easy to understand. The worst effects of it are in the fairly distant future, the rich old people who run the country will be dead by then, etc. But at the same time, everyone’s obsessed with the idea that Medicare will be too costly in 2070.

    Clearly there is a partisan asymmetry here. One political party overwhelmingly accepts the validity and urgency of the projected climate disaster, and has put forth various schemes to try to mitigate it. The other party not only has a lack of interest in mitigating future disaster, but they deny the premise that anything is amiss in the first place, and think the projections are a hoax and part of a broad liberal conspiracy to bankrupt America or collectivize America, or something.

    So, as Matt says, if it’s not just an inability to get worked up about something that’ll happen far into the future (since everyone gets worked up just fine about projected fiscal doom), then why do Republicans have such antipathy to the idea of human-induced climate change?

    I think the familiar dynamic of “being against what the other side is for” plays some role. Party differentiation is a normal and generally healthy thing. But with this dynamic, hostility to Al Gore-style righteousness comes to be seen by certain culturally-aggrieved conservatives as a legitimate policy end in itself. The hostility finds its way into the party dogma, and is filled in later with rationalizing policy objectives. Perceptions of elite exhortations to “reason” backfire terribly. I’ve referenced Dostoyevsky’s Notes From Underground many times on this blog, but once again the central insight is this: people are inclined to assert their own volition rather than bow to reason or rationality. People don’t always correct their behavior when nudged, “but on the contrary would deliberately do something out of sheer ingratitude in order, in fact, to have their own way.”

    Beyond this dynamic, I’m curious how much religious affiliation plays a part in Republican antipathy to climate change. The simple logic train goes like this:

    Republicans have more religious intensity than Democrats. Intensity of one’s belief in god correlates with a more divinely deterministic worldview. The more you believe that “it’s all in god’s hands” the more you are willing to discount the role that humans play in shaping our own destinies, including our ability to meaningfully alter or destroy god’s divinely calibrated macro-environmental design. Therefore belief that humans can change the climate against god’s will is arrogant as well as blasphemous.

    Here is Rep. John Shimkus, a renowned climate denialist, explicitly making the argument from blasphemy:

    I have no idea how prevalent Shimkus’s particular view is. But he is very religious so let’s start with that. Here is a map from the Pew Forum showing the “importance of religion in one’s life” by state. You can see the darker colors—indicating greater religious intensity—correspond very well with Republican strongholds.

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    Next, a recent Public Religion Research Institute survey, taken just after the Japanese tsunami, asked Americans whether they think the severity of recent natural disasters is caused by god. Mostly, they don’t:

    56 percent say God is in control of everything that happens.

    Yet the survey found only 38 percent believe natural disasters are a message from God. Only 29 percent believe such calamities are punishment for sins. […]

    58 percent said the severity of recent natural disasters is evidence of global climate change.

    Interesting that a majority says that god controls everything, but when pressed, they’re not actually willing to extend that claim very far. But you know which religious sect is willing to extend it? White evangelical Protestants:

    Almost six in 10 white evangelical Protestants believe God is sending a sign with natural disasters. And 53 percent believe God is judging and punishing nations.

    This suggests a more determinist bent among white evangelical Protestants, at least when it comes to large environmental phenomena. And yes, a full one-third of Republicans identify as white evangelical Protestants.

    There is also some compelling empirical evidence suggesting that the more deterministic one’s outlook, the more likely that person is to not hold themselves morally responsible for their decisions, and therefore they are more likely to act dishonestly. Hostility to the idea that humans can adversely influence global temperatures is not dishonest per se, but it is a sort of denial of moral agency and responsibility.

    Finally, here’s the big graph, showing belief in global warming by religious affiliation. Note that this doesn’t measure religious intensity, just affiliation.

    image

    White evangelicals certainly lead the way in full-on denialism, and they are also least likely to ascribe it to human activity. But it’s interesting that they’re right in line with the national average on “accepting global warming but attributing it to natural patterns.” I would have thought that this option, spun as, “Sure it’s happening, but it’s god’s natural will,” would be the most attractive to evangelicals, particularly in light of their willingness to credit god for related natural phenomena.

    None if this explicitly answers Yglesias’s question as to why Republicans render fiscal balancing unto Ceasar, and the entire macro-environmental portfolio unto god. It’s just how Genesis wants it I guess.

    Anyway, climate science aside, not yet clear from the polling data is whether god came down from heaven and stopped these motherfuckin’ bullets:

    Lincoln’s Steady Temperament, Resolve, Moral Courage, and Crippling Depression

    In honor of the 150th anniversary of the beginning of the conflict, I’ve been reading a lot of Civil War-related stuff recently, as well as watching Ken Burns’ outstanding Civil War documentary. Every time I revisit this war I find myself having to first get past the sheer numbing scope and scale of human carnage and suffering. The numbers are disorienting, and to me they present an initial impediment to delving into other issues and themes surrounding the war. 26,000 Americans dead in one day at Antietam? 30,000 dead at Chancellorsville? 51,000 killed over a few days at Gettysburg? Over 600,000 casualties in total? Thirty percent of all Southern white males aged 18–40?

    How can any society maintain humanity and stability in the face of such hysterical death?

    How can political and military leaders countenance and rationalize such human destruction?

    That last question is pretty fascinating. Lincoln is of course well known and rightly celebrated for his unwavering resolve and keenness of judgment during the conflict; and his writings and speeches evince an extraordinary equanimity and surety of purpose that allowed him to, if not overcome, then at least not be overcome by, the scenes of blood and death of which he was a primary architect.

    What is also well-known is that the man was a clinical depressive and struggled with the condition his entire life. His gloomy visage and pall of melancholy pervaded his career and his social relationships, and none who knew him well failed to remark upon it.

    It has been wondered, notably by Joshua Wolf Shenk in his book, Lincoln’s Melancholy: How Depression Challenged a President and Fueled His Greatness, if these two traits weren’t perhaps related, and indeed causal. Shenk argues that rather than becoming paralyzed by his persistent mental anguish, Lincoln developed coping mechanisms which, though they could not vanquish his melancholy, at least put the thing at a workable stalemate. Shenk believes that Lincoln was later able to transmute his experiences in personal suffering into the famous steadiness and resolve he displayed during the Civil War. Essentially, his depression made him the ultimate crisis president.

    By coincidence I just came upon this Will Wilkinson post on David Foster Wallace’s long struggle with depression, which led to his suicide in 2008. Wilkinson wonders whether the existential malaise of  Wallace’s depression may have given him access to perceptions and insights that other “well-adjusted” people might miss:

    There’s some evidence that the moderately depressed are less self-deceived. “Depressive realism” is said to leave us less disposed to happy illusions about our abilities or our degree of control over our behavior. It’s easy to see how an unblinkered sense of the self could be an asset to a novelist.

    And perhaps also to a president responsible for both leading and making sense of the worst human tragedy in American history.

    I haven’t read Shenk’s book but here is his long article in the Atlantic adapted from the book. Lincoln’s friend and law partner, William Herndon, presages the “depressive realism” theme:

    Some people, Herndon observed, see the world “ornamented with beauty, life, and action; and hence more or less false and inexact.” Lincoln, on the other hand, “crushed the unreal, the inexact, the hollow, and the sham”—Everything came to him in its precise shape and color.” Such keen vision often brought Lincoln pain; being able to look troubling reality straight in the eye also proved a great strength.

    Shenk argues that this depressive realism, brought on and shaped by his mental illness, helped Lincoln develop the very skills and virtues we most prize in him today: his extraordinary patience and endurance in the face of overwhelming tragedy and uncertainty; his creative and literary potency; and his moral clarity.

    This is a provocative thesis, and the article is a great read, but to me Shenk’s revelations of the depths of Lincoln’s illness are far more interesting than his attempt to connect the illness to Lincoln’s later successes. There’s always a selection bias problem when making these claims that severe adversity prepares one for later success. Most of the time severe adversity leads to severe failure. A few people do manage to overcome their troubles, and those are the triumphant stories we hear about. But the vast majority of people are crushed by exposure to severe adversity, and could have done far better without it thank you very much. But we tend to not hear the stories of these people, as they didn’t go on to become literary geniuses or presidents of the United States.

    What’s most striking from Shenk’s piece are the personal accounts of Lincoln’s condition from those who knew him best, and the fact that to a modern ear, such revelations would seem to fatally derail his political career and make him unfit for any elected office. For instance, how would this play on MSNBC:

    Robert L. Wilson, who was elected to the Illinois state legislature with Lincoln in 1836, found him amiable and fun-loving. But one day Lincoln told him something surprising. Lincoln said “that although he appeared to enjoy life rapturously, Still he was the victim of terrible melancholly,” Wilson recalled. “He Sought company, and indulged in fun and hilarity without restraint, or Stint as to time[.] Still when by himself, he told me that he was so overcome with mental depression, that he never dare carry a knife in his pocket.”

    Or how would his modern political opponents treat this little ditty?

    Lincoln “told Me that he felt like Committing Suicide often,” remembered Mentor Graham, a schoolteacher, and his neighbors mobilized to keep him safe. One friend recalled, “Mr Lincolns friends … were Compelled to keep watch and ward over Mr Lincoln, he being from the sudden shock somewhat temporarily deranged. We watched during storms—fogs—damp gloomy weather … for fear of an accident.”

    Oh boy. I could see the ad now. Do you want old deranged suicidal Abe answering that 3am phone call?!

    Though we often associate melancholy in artists with mystery and profundity and genius and an enhanced creative credibility, we are obviously not so generous with our political leaders. Indeed, Shenk notes that 19th-century voters and pundits were simply “more forgiving of psychological and emotional complexity.” You could play this game with most pre-modern presidents I suppose, but it’s still very disheartening to know that our greatest president would not have a chance in hell at being elected today.

    Though it must be said that Michele Bachmann seems to be doing quite well despite her own battles with psychological and emotional complexity.