Goodbye, Mike
I spent a lot of 'ink' on Warren, but by far my least favorite of the candidates was Mike Bloomberg. I'm not sure how much of my attention he deserves, but I'm greatly pleased to see his departure from the pursuit of even more power than his endless billions give him.
The Failing New York Times
With the collapse of the Warren campaign, both of the candidates the NYT endorsed are now out of the Democratic primary.
If Times readers still want to vote for a woman to run against Trump, it's ok: Tulsi Gabbard is still standing tall. She also won a delegate in American Samoa, so she might make the debate stage next time!
UPDATE: The Atlantic publishes a piece by Elaine Godfrey with five theories for Warren's fall. Sexism is theory number five.
That said, I do think sexism played the crucial role in her downfall. Specifically, I think it was her campaign's collusion with CNN to forward an unsupported accusation of sexism against Bernie Sanders. Her numbers began to crash as people on the Left experienced the kind of astonishment that so many of us on the right experienced during the Kavanaugh confirmation hearings. They didn't notice then because they were prepared to believe any kind of slander against a right-leaning SCOTUS nominee, but this time they saw through to the nastiness, the dishonesty, and the unfairness of trying to destroy the career of a man they admired via accusations of sexism fielded without any evidence whatsoever.
The very people she needed to vote for her didn't believe her -- perhaps in part because she has a long legacy of proven false statements about her own biography -- and they couldn't believe she'd try to destroy the reputation of a man who -- by their lights -- has lived with moral clarity and distinction for many decades. Bernie was arrested with the civil rights marchers; Bernie was always on the forefront of every issue they cared about. He's been a loyal husband to a loyal wife, advanced the causes of many women in politics, and she was prepared to destroy him anyway in pursuit of power.
If that was their judgment, they were right to drive her out of the path of power. If they were right about her, she's the kind of person who shouldn't have power.
UPDATE: Jeff Jacoby points out that 76% of women in Massachusetts voted against Warren. Democratic women voters, even, as Mike D points out in the comments.
If Times readers still want to vote for a woman to run against Trump, it's ok: Tulsi Gabbard is still standing tall. She also won a delegate in American Samoa, so she might make the debate stage next time!
UPDATE: The Atlantic publishes a piece by Elaine Godfrey with five theories for Warren's fall. Sexism is theory number five.
Sexism in politics is like Whack-a-Mole, right? Every cycle, it shows up in a new way. We dealt with the “likability” issue [with Warren] pretty quickly. Now it’s “electability.” Every data point that we have says women can win—in 2018, women won all over the country—and yet we keep asking this question. The conversation becomes really problematic for a candidate who’s trying to make [the] case about what kind of agenda she wants to set, what kind of policies she wants to have.I cannot imagine that a deep dive into the news coverage the Warren campaign got will show that it was less than glowing. I mean, she was endorsed by the NYT! She was treated as brilliant and intellectual and the one candidate who really could formulate solutions to the nation's great problems by journalists from the left to what passes for the middle. Unlike Joe Biden, she had many passionate supporters including among journalists who provided in-kind donations with positive coverage. Joltin' Joe seems to have mostly machine support -- but having a machine behind you, whether the Clinton machine or Obama's Chicago machine, is the real route to power in the national-level Democratic party, and they're united behind Joe.
The biggest issue this year is the double standard, where we hold women candidates to different standards than we hold the men. It’s very clear from the Medicare for All conversation that we expected and demanded more of [Warren] than we did the male candidates, and it hurt her. That was happening right as she was rising. As late as [last] week, Bernie Sanders [was] saying, I still can’t tell you every nickel and dime [about how to pay for his Medicare for All plan], and everybody’s like, All right. Well, you know, it’s about priorities. I’m not saying we should treat Bernie Sanders differently. I’m saying we should treat Elizabeth Warren the same.
She either outright won all [the debates] or performed really well. But you didn’t see wall-to-wall coverage the next day of what that would mean for her campaign and whether the momentum was going to come in. Where she had victories, they were not celebrated as loudly as the men[’s] were, and where she had defeats, it was seen as an inevitable character flaw as opposed to a bump in the road.
There were three tickets out of Iowa until a woman got the third one. I am very interested to see a deep dive into [news-coverage] quantity and quality once this is all over, and it’s pretty obvious that the women just didn’t get the same.
That said, I do think sexism played the crucial role in her downfall. Specifically, I think it was her campaign's collusion with CNN to forward an unsupported accusation of sexism against Bernie Sanders. Her numbers began to crash as people on the Left experienced the kind of astonishment that so many of us on the right experienced during the Kavanaugh confirmation hearings. They didn't notice then because they were prepared to believe any kind of slander against a right-leaning SCOTUS nominee, but this time they saw through to the nastiness, the dishonesty, and the unfairness of trying to destroy the career of a man they admired via accusations of sexism fielded without any evidence whatsoever.
The very people she needed to vote for her didn't believe her -- perhaps in part because she has a long legacy of proven false statements about her own biography -- and they couldn't believe she'd try to destroy the reputation of a man who -- by their lights -- has lived with moral clarity and distinction for many decades. Bernie was arrested with the civil rights marchers; Bernie was always on the forefront of every issue they cared about. He's been a loyal husband to a loyal wife, advanced the causes of many women in politics, and she was prepared to destroy him anyway in pursuit of power.
If that was their judgment, they were right to drive her out of the path of power. If they were right about her, she's the kind of person who shouldn't have power.
UPDATE: Jeff Jacoby points out that 76% of women in Massachusetts voted against Warren. Democratic women voters, even, as Mike D points out in the comments.
An Advertisement for a Friend in Need
I don't do commercials here as a rule, but I'm making an exception for a friend whose small business had a misfortune not at all his fault.
As I've mentioned, one of the things I do for fun is Strongman competitions in a fully amateur, very minor way (and in the Masters Division, where 'Master' is a courteous euphemism for "too old" rather than meaning "great"). One of the places that hosts great competitions is Norse Fitness in Charlotte, NC. The host, Andy, is a great guy and has built a business around strength training and gear that supports his family (including a beautiful young daughter). Andy was going to go to the Arnold this year, one of the three biggest events in strength sports, but the trade show there was canceled due to the Coronavirus, and spectators forbidden.
Unfortunately, Andy bought a bunch of merchandise to take to sell; the Arnold organizers made the decision so late that he, and many others, are also too late to get refunds on their plane tickets, Air B&B reservations, and so on. So he's having a big 30% off sale on everything in his store.
The sale code is CORONA30. I've bought plenty of his gear in the past, and it's all of excellent quality. In addition, he has lots of Norse- and Viking-themed t-shirts and such, of the sort appropriate for Strongman competitors to wear while lifting giant objects Conan-style.
As I've mentioned, one of the things I do for fun is Strongman competitions in a fully amateur, very minor way (and in the Masters Division, where 'Master' is a courteous euphemism for "too old" rather than meaning "great"). One of the places that hosts great competitions is Norse Fitness in Charlotte, NC. The host, Andy, is a great guy and has built a business around strength training and gear that supports his family (including a beautiful young daughter). Andy was going to go to the Arnold this year, one of the three biggest events in strength sports, but the trade show there was canceled due to the Coronavirus, and spectators forbidden.
Unfortunately, Andy bought a bunch of merchandise to take to sell; the Arnold organizers made the decision so late that he, and many others, are also too late to get refunds on their plane tickets, Air B&B reservations, and so on. So he's having a big 30% off sale on everything in his store.
The sale code is CORONA30. I've bought plenty of his gear in the past, and it's all of excellent quality. In addition, he has lots of Norse- and Viking-themed t-shirts and such, of the sort appropriate for Strongman competitors to wear while lifting giant objects Conan-style.
Vagueness and Knowledge: Christianity Edition
AVI poses a question: When did Europe become Christian? Arguably never, he says.
If you want to debate that topic, please do it at his place because he deserves to enjoy the discussion there. What I want to do here is discuss a model that explains just why we can't really answer that question in a fully satisfactory way. I think it's a good model to have in your mind for a lot of purposes, one that many of you will find helpful.
The model belongs to Timothy Williamson. He came up with the basic approach in his work on vagueness, but later realized that it could serve as a revolutionary model for epistemology (which, I assume everyone knows, is defined as 'the study of knowledge,' but really is mostly a 2,000+ year debate about what exactly knowledge might be).* He wrote a book called Knowledge and its Limits that explains the epistemic model. It's become a big hit in the philosophy world because everyone hates the idea, but it's hard to show exactly where he goes wrong (if indeed he does).
The basic idea works like this: you can know things, and you can sometimes also know that you know them. Other times, however, you are close enough to a border such that you can't really be sure that you know what you know (so that you know, but don't know that you know). Accepting this explains both vagueness and why we sometimes can't be sure about question's like AVI's.
The example on vagueness is also an example about knowledge, so I'll just borrow it. Say that on a given day, day n, you are a child and you know that you are a child. Childhood lasts a long time, so presumably tomorrow (day n+1) you will also be a child. Since there is no obvious limit on that, you should remain a child forever: but somehow a day comes, say by day n+10,950, are not a child and you know that you are not a child anymore. Clarity exists on both ends of the spectrum.
So which day was the exact day on which you stopped being a child? There wasn't one, of course; somehow it happened, during a period of time in which you weren't really sure anymore. Sometimes you felt like a child, sometimes you could see yourself taking adult steps and becoming more adult as a consequence. Exactly when it happens is not clear.
Williamson's answer, in other words, is to dispose of certainty and embrace vagueness. I'm cold at 32 degrees F, and I know it; I'm warm at 75 degrees, and I know I'm not cold anymore. But as the temperature rises, there might come a point that even with careful reflection I couldn't say whether I was still cold. We could probably narrow that down with experiment, but it might vary a lot depending on weather conditions. A bright sunny windless day might no longer feel cold at 34, whereas a windy, wet, rainy day might feel quite cold even at 60 (hypothermia, in fact, is possible). But there will be a moment at which I'm plausibly not really sure.
That doesn't mean that we lose knowledge. We can not only know but know that we know at the ends of the spectrum. We lose that second-order certainty as we get closer to the border conditions; we might know but not know that we know. Very close to the border, we might not know.
So when did Europe become Christian? If the answer really is 'arguably never,' then we still are close enough to the border condition that we can't say we know it ever did. But I think we could say that we know that we know that European civilization was Christian in the 19th century. That seems like a flower of clarity. It may well be, as Eric Blair has often argued, that this civilization received its death blow in WWI and has been dying ever since. At some point we can't still say that we know that Europe is Christian at all, even if once we knew that it was and knew that we knew it.
* I'm leaving out a discussion of Williamson's argument that knowledge isn't analyzable, and focusing here on the vagueness aspect of knowledge, which I think is the more useful concept.
If you want to debate that topic, please do it at his place because he deserves to enjoy the discussion there. What I want to do here is discuss a model that explains just why we can't really answer that question in a fully satisfactory way. I think it's a good model to have in your mind for a lot of purposes, one that many of you will find helpful.
The model belongs to Timothy Williamson. He came up with the basic approach in his work on vagueness, but later realized that it could serve as a revolutionary model for epistemology (which, I assume everyone knows, is defined as 'the study of knowledge,' but really is mostly a 2,000+ year debate about what exactly knowledge might be).* He wrote a book called Knowledge and its Limits that explains the epistemic model. It's become a big hit in the philosophy world because everyone hates the idea, but it's hard to show exactly where he goes wrong (if indeed he does).
The basic idea works like this: you can know things, and you can sometimes also know that you know them. Other times, however, you are close enough to a border such that you can't really be sure that you know what you know (so that you know, but don't know that you know). Accepting this explains both vagueness and why we sometimes can't be sure about question's like AVI's.
The example on vagueness is also an example about knowledge, so I'll just borrow it. Say that on a given day, day n, you are a child and you know that you are a child. Childhood lasts a long time, so presumably tomorrow (day n+1) you will also be a child. Since there is no obvious limit on that, you should remain a child forever: but somehow a day comes, say by day n+10,950, are not a child and you know that you are not a child anymore. Clarity exists on both ends of the spectrum.
So which day was the exact day on which you stopped being a child? There wasn't one, of course; somehow it happened, during a period of time in which you weren't really sure anymore. Sometimes you felt like a child, sometimes you could see yourself taking adult steps and becoming more adult as a consequence. Exactly when it happens is not clear.
Williamson's answer, in other words, is to dispose of certainty and embrace vagueness. I'm cold at 32 degrees F, and I know it; I'm warm at 75 degrees, and I know I'm not cold anymore. But as the temperature rises, there might come a point that even with careful reflection I couldn't say whether I was still cold. We could probably narrow that down with experiment, but it might vary a lot depending on weather conditions. A bright sunny windless day might no longer feel cold at 34, whereas a windy, wet, rainy day might feel quite cold even at 60 (hypothermia, in fact, is possible). But there will be a moment at which I'm plausibly not really sure.
That doesn't mean that we lose knowledge. We can not only know but know that we know at the ends of the spectrum. We lose that second-order certainty as we get closer to the border conditions; we might know but not know that we know. Very close to the border, we might not know.
So when did Europe become Christian? If the answer really is 'arguably never,' then we still are close enough to the border condition that we can't say we know it ever did. But I think we could say that we know that we know that European civilization was Christian in the 19th century. That seems like a flower of clarity. It may well be, as Eric Blair has often argued, that this civilization received its death blow in WWI and has been dying ever since. At some point we can't still say that we know that Europe is Christian at all, even if once we knew that it was and knew that we knew it.
* I'm leaving out a discussion of Williamson's argument that knowledge isn't analyzable, and focusing here on the vagueness aspect of knowledge, which I think is the more useful concept.
So How Deadly is this Coronavirus?
The WHO is now claiming 3.4% fatality rates, but a Harvard doctor disputes that and says it's under 1%. (The President also disputes it, although I'm not convinced that he is the best expert to heed on this subject.)
Fake News Today
BB: 'My Healthcare Is None Of Your Business,' Says Woman Who Demands That You Pay For Her Healthcare
Local woman Sarah Harper declared Friday that her healthcare is none of your business or the government's business, though she wants the government to take more of your money to pay for it.DB: Army’s new coal-powered tiltrotor gaining traction in Congress
Harper posted a series of tweets Friday proclaiming how “men don’t have a say” when it comes to women's healthcare, and also that you should just “shut up and pay for it....
"Just hand over the money and no one gets hurt," she said.
“Admittedly, we had to trim down the passenger compartment to make room for the stoker crew and coal storage,” Bell-Textron CEO Mitch Snyder said.... Snyder told reporters that, if awarded program status, the Super Emu would be able to transport troops, conceal their deployment with billowing coal ash, and render enemy water sources non-potable—and in some places, caustic.
"Truculent"
I ran across this word today and was struck by the fact that I couldn't think of a single related word in the English language (aside from the adverb and noun versions of the same word). I went to check the etymology, which is Latin: truculentus, apparently passed through the Middle French.
The first attestation of the word in English is from 1540, which may explain why it has no English cognates. Perhaps it didn't come over from the Anglo French in or just after 1066, but was brought over as a loan word during or just after the Hundred Years War. It could easily have been a common word among the Middle French-speaking knights who were regularly interacting with the English-speaking knights until the 1450s, and thus first written down in a source that survives to us around a hundred years after that.
A hundred years sounds like a big gap, but it's just for what happened to survive that we're aware of to put in our reference sources. A lot of records were lost in the Henry VIII period due to the destruction of Catholic monastic libraries. The word sounds like one Shakespeare would have liked, but I can't find that he used it.
The first attestation of the word in English is from 1540, which may explain why it has no English cognates. Perhaps it didn't come over from the Anglo French in or just after 1066, but was brought over as a loan word during or just after the Hundred Years War. It could easily have been a common word among the Middle French-speaking knights who were regularly interacting with the English-speaking knights until the 1450s, and thus first written down in a source that survives to us around a hundred years after that.
A hundred years sounds like a big gap, but it's just for what happened to survive that we're aware of to put in our reference sources. A lot of records were lost in the Henry VIII period due to the destruction of Catholic monastic libraries. The word sounds like one Shakespeare would have liked, but I can't find that he used it.
By Jove, I don't care for the cut of this fellow's jib
The New Yorker is shocked, shocked to learn that persuasiveness in human society sometimes depends on base emotional impact rather than elevated rationality. In a long essay devoted to the degradation of previously pristine political discourse since the days of declaiming in the agora, I mean, speaking from the back on trains on whistlestop tours, I mean, orating over the radio, I mean, winning the beauty contest on this newfangled teevee, I mean, getting down in the mud in what the kids are calling this social media thing, Andrew Marantz details the horror of the 2016 Trump campaign in the sniffiest possible New Yorker tones. He particularly deplores the skill of Trump's digital guru, Brad Parscale:
It would be difficult to top this offhand reference to the Alamo by a Brahmin who may go to his grave never comprehending how the wrong sort of people end up holding influential public positions: "Parscale’s operation was unofficially called Project Alamo, a reference to the grisly encounter in a nineteenth-century border war between Texas separatists and the government of Mexico." But the author saves the best for last, simultaneously exposing his hilariously obvious double-standard and his desperate willingness to undermine an admission of truth with empty qualifiers:
I end on this hopeful note:
In 2016, three weeks after Election Day, Harvard’s Institute of Politics hosted a panel discussion featuring leaders of Hillary Clinton’s campaign and Trump’s campaign—the first public reunion of the now dunces and the now geniuses. It got heated.
“I would rather lose than win the way you guys did,” Jennifer Palmieri, Clinton’s director of communications, said.
“No, you wouldn’t, respectfully,” Kellyanne Conway, one of Trump’s campaign managers, said.I laughed out loud almost all the way through, but never more than when reading references to things like "social media, where lies and fractious memes are disproportionately likely to be amplified." Could these people be any less self-aware? Did you know, for instance, that bad Republicans tried to spread rumors that Clinton had undisclosed ties to Vladimir Putin? Who would stoop to something like that? To make matters worse, "This past fall, the Trump campaign ran a Facebook ad premised on the incendiary but false notion that the villain of the Ukraine corruption scandal was not Trump but Joe Biden."
It would be difficult to top this offhand reference to the Alamo by a Brahmin who may go to his grave never comprehending how the wrong sort of people end up holding influential public positions: "Parscale’s operation was unofficially called Project Alamo, a reference to the grisly encounter in a nineteenth-century border war between Texas separatists and the government of Mexico." But the author saves the best for last, simultaneously exposing his hilariously obvious double-standard and his desperate willingness to undermine an admission of truth with empty qualifiers:
“No one ever complained about Facebook for a single day until Donald Trump was President,” Brad Parscale has said. When the Obama campaign used Facebook in new and innovative ways, the media “called them geniuses.” When Parscale did the same, he continued, he was treated as “the evil of earth.” Despite the bombast and the false equivalence, this is basically true.See? It's true, but it's full of bombast, and debunked by a false equivalence so obvious to right-thinking people that we don't even have to identify the equivalence, let alone the falsehood. Because we operate on a higher level of honesty and principle than that dreadful upstart.
I end on this hopeful note:
Since 2016, one of Parscale’s shrewdest innovations has been to turn the continuing rallies into data-mining opportunities. Tickets are free, but they can only be claimed by a person with a valid cell-phone number. The campaign now has a huge database of mobile numbers belonging to people who are motivated enough to attend a Trump rally, many of whom might not have shown up on a voter-registration roll or any other official data file.
“We have almost two hundred and fifteen million hard-I.D. voter records in our database now,” Parscale claimed last year, although his definition of “hard I.D.” is not clear. Even if Trump were banned from every social network, his campaign would be able to reach supporters by text.
"The world soul could use more brains."
The aptly named Freeman Dyson--we might almost have called him Freemind Dyson--died this week just short of the age of 100.
Dyson once wrote an essay titled “Birds and Frogs,”
in which he described complementary species of mathematicians: “Some mathematicians are birds, others are frogs,” he wrote. “Birds fly high in the air and survey broad vistas of mathematics out to the far horizon. They delight in concepts that unify our thinking and bring together diverse problems from different parts of the landscape. Frogs live in the mud below and see only the flowers that grow nearby. They delight in the details of particular objects, and they solve problems one at a time. I happen to be a frog, but many of my best friends are birds.”
Some might disagree with Dyson’s assessment of himself. “Characteristically clever and self-deprecating,” the author James Gleick replied, when I posted that excerpt on Twitter. “I think he was a bird.”
He elaborated in an email. For a moment, Mr. Gleick said, in the case of quantum electrodynamics, Richard Feynman and Julian Schwinger were the frogs and only Dr. Dyson could see them both: “Schwinger had solved quantum electrodynamics with a difficult formalism that almost no one understood, and Feynman had solved quantum electrodynamics with his powerful diagrams — easy for physicists to use and compute with but still hard to understand — and it was Dyson who saw the thing whole, proving that Feynman’s and Schwinger’s solutions were mathematically equivalent.” He added that Dr. Dyson should have shared their Nobel Prize.
Andre Norton
I read a number of her works when I was younger, and still have a few of them around -- I think there's a copy of Quag Keep in the library. It took me a long time to work out that "Andre" was a woman, which was her intention.
Born as Alice Mary Norton in 1912, Norton started writing while she was still in high school.... in 1934 she had her name legally changed to Andre Alice Norton, and adopted several male-sounding pen names so as to prevent her gender from becoming an obstacle to sales in the first market she wrote for: young boys literature.D&D with Fritz Leiber! That would have been a good time. Norton was no slouch either.
...
In 1976, Gary Gygax even persuaded Andre Norton to try out his new Dungeons & Dragons game, and he ran her through a session in his storied world of Greyhawk. Shortly thereafter, Norton was inspired to write the very first D&D novel, Quag Keep (1979). Along with Fritz Leiber, Andre Norton was one of a handful of early authors to experience the very games that their works had inspired.
Local politics
I'm feeling good about the political health of my county this evening. We have four local races, and while the early and mail-in tallies are not great in three of them, I didn't feel strongly about any of those races, more a matter of personal preference. The important race was to replace our County Attorney, who also is our only felony prosecutor. This has been a dreadful scandal in my community, and in recent weeks I was beginning to worry whether my neighbors were going to rise up properly and vote her out. We went to a great deal of trouble to run a good opponent and to get the word out. We don't have full results yet, but the tally of early and mail-in ballots shows the challenging taking 76% of the vote, which is very, very good news. Early voting doesn't always split the same way as election-day voting, but a lead like 76% doesn't get overturned.
Good, simple, French Onion Soup
A couple of weeks ago, Hello Fresh sent me and the missus a French Onion Soup meal. It was okay. My biggest problem was that they tried to satisfy as many customers as possible and ended up with a less satisfying meal by substituting mushroom stock for the more traditional beef stock. And I said as much to the Lovely Bride. She was skeptical and didn't think it was bad at all.
So I decided to "fix" the recipe on my own. And this is one of the reasons I really like Hello Fresh. It may cost between a (inexpensive) restaurant meal and what you'd pay if you shopped for the groceries yourself, but you can keep the recipe card and shop for the groceries yourself in the future if you really like it. Or... in this case, want to make it better.
So I decided to "fix" the recipe on my own. And this is one of the reasons I really like Hello Fresh. It may cost between a (inexpensive) restaurant meal and what you'd pay if you shopped for the groceries yourself, but you can keep the recipe card and shop for the groceries yourself in the future if you really like it. Or... in this case, want to make it better.
Horns of the dilemma
From Frank Miele via RealClearPolitics:
While any or all of the bottom four candidates might drop out [after Super Tuesday], it is unlikely that enough support will go to Sanders in subsequent primaries to give him the 50%-plus-one majority he would need to ensure a first-ballot victory at the convention July 13-16 in Milwaukee. If he does win outright, then the party will have nominated a cranky 79-year-old socialist with a man crush on authoritarian communists like Fidel Castro. That would normally be a nightmare scenario, but this year it is the best-case scenario.
If he doesn’t win outright, then pandemonium is sure to ensue. The Democratic establishment would have to decide whether to endorse a socialist as its standard-bearer, in which case they would be responsible for the subsequent George McGovern-style bloodbath, or to stop Sanders by throwing their support to another candidate, possibly even one who has not campaigned but is willing to be drafted as the nominee. (The possibilities: Hillary Clinton, John Kerry, Michelle Obama or even Adam “You Won’t Have to Ask Me Twice” Schiff.)
The War on Deplorables
Steve Hayward reminds us that the war on traditional citizens leads to strange intra-party politics that make it hard for a party to nominate a candidate with broad appeal, and have been doing so periodically for half a century at least:
A concession Jesse Jackson won at the [1988] Democratic National Convention was a substantial reduction in the number of “superdelegates”—the governors, state legislators, and congressmen recently introduced into the convention process. Another concession reduced the proportion of votes a candidate required to qualify for delegates and did away with “winner-take-all” primaries. This rule change will encourage factionalism by making it worthwhile for candidates to stay in the race longer so as to amass a larger force of delegates. More factions and fewer coalitions, I am afraid, are in store. Thus the desire of party activists to adopt more egalitarian policies, or their inability to reject egalitarian mechanisms—take your pick—will give egalitarians a greater voice in conventions to come. Not every future Democratic presidential nominee need be strongly egalitarian, but no one obnoxious to egalitarians will get far.
CDC competence vel non
I'm always up for a good "incompetent government bureaucracy" hook, but this thoughtful comment from Maggie's Farm is a more balanced approach:
I heard a few days ago that the reason we don't have a good test for the Corona virus was because we needed to have patients with the virus so that we could use their body fluids in a process that would make a test for it. I understand also that the CDC tried to roll out a test for the corona virus anyway because of course they need the test. But because they didn't have a good sample of the virus available the test was not accurate and gave false positives and false negatives. To speed up the process they bypassed an administrative rule to allow other agencies (states and others) to develop the test because by then there were a few confirmed patients to get samples from and since the patients were closer to outside laboratories this process would be faster than if the CDC insisted that only they could create the test.
One other factor in this is some have commented that smaller and less capable countries had developed the test so why couldn't we. There are two answers: 1. They had confirmed patients before we did which gave them the necessary samples. 2. They may have (probably did) develop tests like our first ones which give false results BUT since their standards are not as high as the CDC they decided "who cares" and went ahead and used them. (Or they are still clueless that their tests are giving them false results.)
Count me as one of those who doubts that our doctors are bumbling fools and that our CDC is incompetent. I am sure their bureaucracy sometimes interferes with best practices but generally I would say our CDC is as good as any similar organization anywhere. I think the problem is that they failed to adequately explain the holdup and thus to us it looks like a screw-up.I still think, of course, that human systems are inevitably prone to error, and improvement will always depend on a relentless willingness to try different approaches, compare predictions to reality, and assess honestly which approaches are the most effective. Flexibility and honesty not being the easiest goals in human institutions, and government bureaucracies not being their natural home, it's a tough challenge. Nevertheless, I don't want to pile on the CDC just because they fail a theoretical test of perfection. They're certainly doing a better job than I would know how to do.
"My Own Private Denmark"
PowerLine discusses in some detail today a theme that Assistant Village Idiot has often raised: Socialist and socialist-leaning Americans appear to have in mind an image of Scandinavian socialism that was tried, and then abandoned, some decades ago, when its ruinous effects on prosperity and job-creation were observed.
As Ace says, we continue to judge socialism by its intentions but capitalism by its results. Meanwhile, other countries try the grand experiment, while we avert our eyes from its effects, preferring to take a walk down memory/fantasy lane.
As Ace says, we continue to judge socialism by its intentions but capitalism by its results. Meanwhile, other countries try the grand experiment, while we avert our eyes from its effects, preferring to take a walk down memory/fantasy lane.
Some Further Discussion on Piercello's Proposal
Piercello asked me to clarify the boundary between strict logic and the kind of practical logics we find in ethics (like the use of logic in rhetoric). I thought the answer was worth a separate post.
I'm delighted to host a discussion like this one. It's an excellent use of our limited time on earth to wrestle with these high questions.
The boundary between strict logic and non-strict logic (including but not limited to rhetorical logic) is bright-line, and indeed already expressed in our discussion. It has to do with what kinds of objects the logic is treating. Strict logic treats logical objects, i.e., objects that are internally consistent throughout.
Objects in strict logic include universals, variables, and constants. Universals are true universals (usually formalized as capital letters these days, like "F"). A constant is an individual (usually 'a, b, c...' from the front of the alphabet); a variable (usually 'x, y, z') is a set of particulars that can range over many individuals, so that you can speak using variables about what it means for particulars to instantiate the universal. So if "F" is "is a raven," then "Fx" is "anything that is a raven," and "Fa" is "a, which is a raven." Expressed in more Platonic terms, "F" is a way of referring to the form of ravenness; Fx refers to all objects that instantiate this form; Fa refers to one particular object that instantiates the form.
However, as Aristotle points out at the beginning of the [Nicomachean] ethics, we never encounter any of these things in real life. His account of why objects don't perfectly instantiate Platonic forms differs from mine; he thought that practical objects, being made of matter, didn't perfectly instantiate the forms because of the potential necessary for matter which was never quite fully actualized into the pure activity of the form. I've explained that I think the real reason is that we shift from logical objects to analogies between physical objects that really aren't 'alike throughout' in the way that logical objects by their nature are.
Note then that Kant is not really doing strict logic at any point in the Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals. Because this is groundwork for a project in the practical world, he is always dealing with ethical objects rather than strict logical objects. Kant is really unhappy with Aristotle's approach, which I mentioned above. What Aristotle says is this (EN 1.3):
"Our discussion will be adequate if it has as much clearness as the subject-matter admits of, for precision is not to be sought for alike in all discussions, any more than in all the products of the crafts. Now fine and just actions, which political science investigates, admit of much variety and fluctuation of opinion, so that they may be thought to exist only by convention, and not by nature. And goods also give rise to a similar fluctuation because they bring harm to many people; for before now men have been undone by reason of their wealth, and others by reason of their courage. We must be content, then, in speaking of such subjects and with such premisses to indicate the truth roughly and in outline, and in speaking about things which are only for the most part true and with premisses of the same kind to reach conclusions that are no better."
Kant does not like the idea that we cannot be precise in our ethical conclusions, and is trying hard to figure out a way around the problem that will allow for clear, precise, rational ethical decision. His move is to reach for universals not as forms, but in terms of generalizing situations to see if you can come to general principles (i.e. what he calls 'universal laws') that govern all different instances of a problem. (It will turn out you really can't, because problems don't instantiate singularly; usually a real ethical dilemma is a nest of different problems, where the general principles are in conflict. But set that aside.)
I recommend Kant because his project seems to me to be allied to yours in important ways. It is definitely not exactly the same, though. You are also wrestling with this issue of how to persuade people to behave in more rational ways. Like Kant, you need to get people to accept standards that are alien or foreign to them currently. Kant's introducing several concepts that are brand new, like the categorical imperative; no one has ever heard this terminology before at the time he's publishing this groundbreaking work. So he has to persuade people (rhetoric) that this is a sensible way to talk, as well as that it can solve some of the problems of ethics (rhetorical logic).
Note, though, that he is not really at any point engaged in strict logic. He is trying as hard as he can to find something analogous to a logical object in practical life. The universals he's reaching for with his 'universal laws' aren't logical universals, but broad analogies under which many different practical problems might fall.
As a result, the sandwich you describe isn't quite there. Rather, he is trying to shoehorn analogy into logic as much as can be done. I think Kant believes he's successful, which enables him in the wider Metaphysics of Morals (written many years after the Groundwork, by the way) to declare his conclusions with much more firmness than they have proven to deserve (e.g., that any just society must have a sovereign individual who is immune to the laws; that marriage can only be a union of exactly two persons of the opposite sex, and that absolutely all societies must introduce legal marriage in precisely this form; that masturbation is necessarily worse than suicide; etc).
That said, I also think you can learn the rules of strict logic without in any way adopting the consensus that they are the right way to proceed. Most everyone who engages in the practice seriously, including myself, develops a critique of parts of it. That's one of the most interesting aspects of the study of logic. There is a rhetorical aspect to such criticisms, in that we are trying to persuade each other that our approach to wrestling with the problem we've encountered with the system is better than other methods. But it's not necessary to learning the system; all that you have to do to learn the system is learn it, not consent to it.
The closest thing I think you can say is that you have to learn the rules of a game to play the game. But it's still not rhetoric; it just looks like rhetoric because we typically learn it from someone else. Imagine (here's a Kantian exercise) a man who was somehow born and raised by wolves, but in his adulthood began to try to work out the rules of logic. He might come up with different ways of solving particular problems, just as in math the Japanese have developed a different way of doing multiplication than Westerners. But because strict logic like* math has an objective standard, whatever approaches he developed could be found to be valid or invalid, complete or incomplete, independently of ever discussing them with anyone. The objective standard is provided by logic itself: some approaches to logic work, and some do not.
It's sticky, trying to deal with the hinge between these models -- which can somehow be objectively tested against themselves, that itself a philosophical difficulty -- and the way the models apply to reality. Somehow they do, even though the kinds of objects involved in math/logic are not what we encounter, we can use math and logic predicatively with a lot of success. Why the success is even possible is a problem, given the incompatibility of the kinds of objects involved; why the success applies only imperfectly is another problem.
If I've given you serious problems, though, I'm doing my proper work as a philosopher.
* "like math" is itself problematic philosophically; there's a huge debate as to whether logic is in fact a subset of math, or indeed whether math is actually a subset of logic, or if they are simply similar fields. This is non-resolved after 2,000 years of discussion.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)