What's Wrong with American Politics?

David Brooks identifies some of the problems in his analysis of how John McCain has been changed over the course of the election. Sayeth Tocqueville of democratic despotism, "it covers the surface of society with a network of small complicated rules, minute and uniform, through which the most original minds and the most energetic characters cannot penetrate, to rise above the crowd."

A sad day for sports

Because competitive sports are a modern replacement for war, without all the bloodshed but retaining many of the virtues that can go with it (loyalty to and pride in one's homeland, the recognition of and sacrifice for something greater than yourself), sports fans of all stripes should find the news of Brett Favre's move to the Jets disappointing.

Growing up in Illinois in the era of the Chicago Bulls absolute domination of the NBA, my intense loyalty to the team was made possible not only by my geographical location, but by the fact that essentially the same guys came together year after year. Scottie Pippen could have easily left and been top dog in the lineup for lots of other teams, and backups like Tony Kukoc could have started for other teams. But they didn't, and they served united under the talent and leadership of Michael Jordan (not to mention coach Phil Jackson).

By the end of that run, "Michael Jordan" and "the Chicago Bulls" were concepts that couldn't really be meaningfully separated in most people's minds (especially for those like me who were overly enthusiastic kids at the time and thus took Jordan as a role model). So when he left for the Wizards, his reputation was ruined in my eyes, regardless of how well he performed with the new team. He had been a team player, and we all assumed that being a Bull had become a part of his identity. And so when Jordan, Jackson, and Pippen went their separate ways to pursue their own individual ends, the virtue that we thought we had seen in them was shattered.

As it was with Jordan, so it is now with Favre. Though I was never and will never be a Packer fan, I respected not only his talent but the way in which he became so entwined with the Packer organization. Even when he had slump years in which other observers would have called for Favre's head, or at least pushed him into retirement, the Cheesehead fan base and the Packer staff would have none of it - through thick and thin, Brett was the quarterback of the Green Bay Packers.

Rooting for the home team in professional sports will always be at least somewhat irrational, but we should still mourn the downfall of epic figures like Brett Favre who fail to recognize that the good they brought to their team and their fans was much more meaningful than championship trophies.

Reason 762 that Obama is not the 2nd coming

This video is circulating around the internets today because it shows Obama being heckled by protesters. But what I find intriguing here is how poorly Obama speaks while answering the question one of them posed to him. President Bush couldn't stutter like that once without being labeled a terrible speaker, and therefore stupid, incompetent, etc. Imagine if he flailed around for 4 straight and extremely painful minutes like Obama does in the video.

I'm not really interested in defending the President's speaking skills, because by most measures they are pretty bad. I don't even blame Obama for getting flustered. But I do think this should be a reality check for those who remain convinced that Obama is a master of public speaking.

Kindergarchy: A fun new term for Union dichotomies!

I always thought there needed to be a snappy term for the world dominated by child-worshiping suburbanites.

In Defense of Poverty

A new Slate piece on how to measure poverty makes a couple of good points about the meaning of poverty:

Adam Smith put his finger on the problem back in 1776. In The Wealth of Nations, he wrote: "A linen shirt, for example, is, strictly speaking, not a necessity of life. The Greeks and Romans lived, I suppose, very comfortably though they had no linen. But in the present times, through the greater part of Europe, a creditable day-labourer would be ashamed to appear in public without a linen shirt. ..."

Smith's point is not that poverty is relative but that it is a social construction. A person can lack the money necessary to participate in society. Whatever Eurostat may say, people don't become poor just because the median citizen receives a pay raise, but they may become poor if something they cannot afford—such as an Internet connection—becomes viewed as a social essential.

That is why a new unofficial poverty threshold, published this month by—appropriately—the Joseph Rowntree Foundation, makes more sense than it at first appears. The standard was set by focus groups working out what was and was not necessary "to participate in society." The results are frugal—there is a budget of £40 ($80) every two years to buy a suit, for instance—but they were always bound to be controversial. The list of essentials includes a self-catering vacation, a cell phone, and enough booze to get drunk twice a month.

But the new threshold's apparent weakness—its subjectivity—is in fact its strength. Poverty is not relative, and it cannot be objectively determined by an expert. Adam Smith understood that very well.

I agree that poverty is in some respects a social construction, and Smith's observation is right on the mark, but I dread the day when we try to eliminate poverty based on what it takes "to participate in society". To even begin to explore what that means would seem to nudge us further towards the bland middle-class ideal that America is already too fond of. Poverty is indeed a problem that calls for much charity. But to go about trying to eliminate all class differences is something different, and far more dangerous an impulse. We'd be losing something beautiful if we killed The Old Cumberland Beggar:

Him from my childhood have I known; and then
He was so old, he seems not older now;
He travels on, a solitary Man,
So helpless in appearance, that for him
The sauntering Horseman throws not with a slack
And careless hand his alms upon the ground,
But stops,--that he may safely lodge the coin
Within the old Man's hat; nor quits him so,
But still, when he has given his horse the rein,
Watches the aged Beggar with a look
Sidelong, and half-reverted.

And now, for something completely tasteless

'No Values Voters' Looking To Support Most Evil Candidate

The Dark Knight: Chaos, Order, and the Problem of Vigilante Justice

The explosion-filled summer action flick and the comic book-turned-blockbuster are models that too often lead to look-alike films filled with predictable plotlines and rife with tired clichés. If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. But The Dark Knight, the most anticipated movie of the year and the newest installment in the Batman saga, manages to break this mold and weave all the glitz and extravagance demanded by the genre together with themes worthy of serious thought.

(Warning: major spoilers ahead)

Any discussion of The Dark Knight would be incomplete without a contemplation of the chief villain, Heath Ledger’s Joker. The Joker, of course, is a representation of chaos, and chaos in its purest form. The visually disturbing scars and makeup and the spine-tingling tone of his voice practically beg for a foray into the Joker’s past. But to construct such a story would bring understanding and order to a character that strives primarily to deprive us of both, and so instead we hear the Joker give several conflicting accounts of his downfall, none of which come across as a stronger candidate for the truth than the others.

Chaos abounds even when he is locked up. His fingerprints are unidentifiable, and even his clothes lack labels from which we could extrapolate even a far-fetched explanatory narrative. “Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you…stranger” says the Joker, adopting a Nietzschean dictum to fit a twisted brand of nihilism that is so deeply ingrained in him that he sets his own piles of money aflame. As Alfred tells us, the Joker is not motivated by any external force; he simply wants to watch the world burn.

Interestingly enough, the foil for the Joker is not so much Batman as it is Harvey Dent, Gotham’s hard-hitting District Attorney. Dent, by relentlessly prosecuting criminals and throwing his personal safety to the wind, becomes the public face of safety and social order. For all the failings of the mob-infiltrated police bureaucracy around him, Dent presses on in pursuit of justice and in defense of the common good.

Though distressed by Dent’s relationship with his beloved Rachel, Bruce Wayne recognizes the particular quality in Dent that is paramount to the achievement of peace for Gotham. As the “White Knight” in the eyes of the citizens, Dent can bring about something that the vigilante Batman never can – a Gotham that accepts the justice that Batman has been fighting for all along.

But Harvey Dent is also a flawed character. Thanks to one of the Joker’s cruel games, Dent finds himself communicating with his love Rachel while both are in remote warehouses about to be blown to smithereens. Knowing that Batman only has time to save one of them, Dent assumes that Rachel will be the one spared. But Batman has been given the wrong address for each victim, and so it is Dent that survives. In the moments before Rachel dies, Dent tells her that everything will be alright.

This lie and the episode surrounding it haunt him for the rest of the movie, leading him to conclude that his fight for justice was meaningless and futile, as it was always subject to chance. Dent cannot accept the presence of tragedy in the world, and so instead he accepts the Joker’s chaos as a natural component of life. Dent, then, becomes a living representation of Machiavelli’s conception of Fortuna. As Two-Face, Dent’s will is only half in control.

Seeking revenge upon Police Commissioner Gordon, whom he blames for Rachel’s death, Two-Face captures the Gordon family and holds a gun to the head of Gordon’s son, demanding that Gordon tell his son that everything will be alright. Gordon complies, implicitly acknowledging what Two-Face cannot: there is virtue in what Edmund Burke called pleasing illusions. Sometimes, an inspiring and well-intentioned half truth is better than the full story. Thus, when Batman comes to the rescue and Two-Face is presumably killed, Batman and Gordon decide that Gotham must never know the true fate of Harvey Dent. To tell the truth in this case would be to destroy the hope that the city’s citizens had for establishing peace. To maintain the public faith in public officials and thereby maintain social order, Gordon eulogizes Dent as though he died a brave and just man. The now falsified image of Harvey Dent as a noble hero is, as Burke would say, “necessary to cover the defects of our naked, shivering nature.”

But whither Batman? He is, as the Joker reminds him, a freak. As one reviewer noted, the denizens of Gotham refer to him impersonally as the Batman. He is an outsider, swooping in when the skylight calls him. But in the process, he interferes in the affairs of the civil government, dangles SWAT teams off the sides of tall buildings, and breaks all kinds of laws. As such, Batman, while sharing a conception of justice with Dent, can never hold the public confidence in the way that Dent can, and thus the justice of Batman is necessarily chaotic. The administration of justice requires order, and so the evils of the Joker can never be destroyed while the vigilante Batman enforces the good. For the good of the community of Gotham, Batman must be hunted down by the civil authorities, even though, as noted by Gordon’s young son, he did no wrong.

Therein lies the profound tragedy of The Dark Knight. While wholly just and good in his actions, Batman must, for the foreseeable future, be among the furiously pursued. The Dark Knight is, true to the words of Gordon’s epilogue, “the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now.”