20 University Press Books for Black History Month

In honor of Black History Month, PUP has chosen twenty of the most relevant, intriguing books published by university presses, ranging from poetry to prose, modern critiques to historical accounts. Included are recent PUP titles, Story/Time: The Life of an Idea by Bill T. Jones, The Notebooks by Jean-Michel Basquiat, and The Life and Struggles of Our Mother Walatta Petros by Galawdewos. Don’t miss the links to these titles’ design stories on our Tumblr design blog.

1. We Could Not Fail: The First African Americans in the Space Program by Richard Paul & Steven Moss (University of Texas Press)

We could not fail

2. Despite the Best Intentions: How Racial Inequality Thrives in Good Schools by Amanda E. Lewis & John B. Diamond (Oxford University Press)

despite the best intentions

3. Forest Primeval by Vievee Francis (Northwestern University Press)

forest primeval jacket

4. Stigma and Culture: Last-Place Anxiety in Black America by J. Lorand Matory (University of Chicago Press)

stigma and culture

5. The Notebooks by Jean-Michel Basquiat (Princeton University Press)

Check out a video of spreads from The Notebooks.

The Notebooks jacket

6. Thin Description:Ethnography and the African Hebrew Isrealites of Jerusalem by John L. Jackson, Jr (Harvard University Press)

Thin Description jacket

7. Black Georgetown Remembered: A History of Its Black Community from the Founding to “The Town of George” in 1751 to the Present Day
by Kathleen Menzie Lesko, Valerie Babb, and Carroll R. Gibbs (Georgetown University Press)

black georgetown remembered

8. Racing to Justice: Transforming Our Conception of Self and Other to Build an Inclusive Society by John A. Powell (Indiana University Press)

Racing to Justice

9. Florynce “Flo” Kennedy: The Life of a Black Feminist Radical by Sherie M. Randolph (University of North Carolina Press)

Florence "Flo" Kennedy

10. Black Women in Sequence: Re-inking Comics, Graphic Novels, and Anime by Deborah Elizabeth Whaley (University of Washington Press)

Black women in sequence jacket

11. Blinded by Sight: Seeing Race Through the Eyes of the Blind by Osagie K. Obasogie (Stanford University Press)

Blinded by sight jacket

12. Better Git It in Your Soul: An Interpretive Biography of Charles Mingus by Krin Gabbard (University of California Press)

Better git it in your soul jacket

13. African American Slang: A Linguistic Description by Maciej Widawski (Cambridge University Press)

African American Slang

14. Tracing Southern Storytelling in Black and White by Sarah Gilbreath Ford (University of Alabama Press)

tracing southern storytelling in black and white jacket

15. Fly Away by Peter M. Rutkoff and William B. Scott (John Hopkins University Press)

fly away

16. The Life and Struggles of Our Mother Walatta Petros: A Seventeenth-Century African Biography of an Ethiopian Woman by Galawdewos (Princeton University Press)

The Life and Struggle of Our Mother Walatta Petros jacket

17. The Folklore of the Freeway: Race and Revolt in the Modernist City by Eric Avila (University of Minnesota Press)

Folklore of the Freeway

18. Beauty Shop Politics: African American Women’s Activism in the Beauty Industry by Tiffany M. Gill (University of Illinois Press)

Beauty shop politics

19. Walking from the Dream: The Struggle for Civil Rights in the Shadow of Martin Luther King, Jr. by David L. Chappell (Duke University Press)

waking from the dream

20. Story/Time: The Life of an Idea by Bill T. Jones (Princeton University Press)

Read more about the design process of Story/Time.

Jones_StoryTime

Q&A with Kenneth Scheve and David Stasavage on Taxing the Rich

Taxing the RichWho to tax, how much to tax, and what the taxes should pay for are questions sure to elicit an array of responses in today’s politically charged climate. Kenneth Scheve and David Stasavage combine forces on this comprehensive history and reflection on how the rich have (or haven’t) been taxed. Taxing the Rich: A History of Fiscal Fairness in the United State and Europe tackles what is sure to be a hot election topic using an approach that manages to showcase both sides of the often contentious issue. Recently the authors took the time to answer some questions on their book.

Why did you write this book?

KS & DS: Taxing the rich is a subject of considerable political conflict today. There has been a great deal of debate about what government should do in this area, but we know far less about the reasons why some governments actually do tax the rich and others do not. We think answering this question requires a long run historical perspective, and one that doesn’t just look at developments in the United States. Our book considers income, inheritance, and other taxes from 1800 to the present in a set of twenty countries.

What’s your main argument?

KS & DS: Countries tax the rich when the public thinks the state has failed to treat citizens as equals and in so doing has privileged the rich. [a more colloquial version: Countries tax the rich when people think the deck is stacked in favor of the wealthy and the government has done the stacking.]

Debates about taxation revolve around self-interest (no one likes paying taxes), economic efficiency, and fairness. We argue that fairness considerations center on what it means for the state to treat citizens as equals in income tax policy. Historically, there are three main fairness arguments that have been used for or against taxing the rich. Equal Treatment arguments claim that everyone should be taxed at the same rate just like everyone has one vote. Ability to Pay arguments contend that states should tax the rich at higher rates because they can better afford to pay when compared with everyone else. Compensatory Arguments suggest that it is fair to tax the rich at higher rates when it compensates for unequal treatment by the state in some other policy area. We argue that over the last two centuries compensatory arguments have been the most powerful arguments in favor of taxing the rich.

What are examples of compensatory arguments in history?

KS & DS: Compensatory arguments were important in the early development of income tax systems in the 19th century when it was argued that income taxes on the rich were necessary to compensate for heavy indirect taxes that fell disproportionately on the poor and middle class. But the most significant compensatory arguments over the last two centuries have been arguments to raise taxes on the rich to preserve equal sacrifice in wars of mass mobilization. These conflicts, particularly World War I and World War II, led states to raise large armies, often through conscription, and citizens and politicians alike adopted compensatory fairness arguments to justify higher taxes on income and wealth. Mass war mobilization led governments of both left and right to tax the rich.

When have countries taxed the rich?

KS & DS: Well, one thing our book shows is that governments haven’t taxed the rich just because inequality is high, nor have they done this simply because the poor and middle class outnumber the rich when it comes to voting. The main occasion when governments have moved to tax the rich is during times of mass mobilization for war, especially in democracies in which the norm of treating citizens as equals is held more strongly. The real watershed for taxing the rich for many countries came in 1914. The era of the two world wars and their aftermath was one in which governments taxed the rich at rates that would have previously seemed unimaginable.

How do we know that the effect of wars was due to changes in fairness considerations?

KS & DS: We show in the book that when countries shift from peace to war, or the reverse, there has also been a big shift in the type of fairness arguments made in favor of taxing the rich. During times of peace debates about whether it is fair to tax the rich center on competing equal treatment and ability to pay arguments. During times of war supporters of taxing the rich have also been able to make Compensatory arguments. If the poor and middle class are doing the fighting, then the rich should be asked to pay more for the war effort. If some with wealth benefit from war profits, then this creates another compensatory argument for taxing the rich. These compensatory arguments had the biggest impact in democracies that are founded on the idea that citizens should be treated as equals. The fact that war had a much bigger impact on taxes on the rich in democracies than in autocracies also suggests that the rich weren’t being taxed out of simple necessity. It was because war determined what types of fairness arguments could be made.

What are the implications for future tax policies in the United States?

KS & DS: Don’t expect high and rising inequality to necessarily lead to a return to the high top tax rates of the post-war era. What really matters is what people believe about how inequality is generated in the first place. If it is clear that inequality has risen because the government failed to treat citizens as equals in the first place, then there is room for convincing compensatory arguments. Today, in an era where military technology favors more limited forms of warfare — drones rather than boots on the ground — the wartime compensatory arguments of old are no longer available. Absent new compensatory arguments, we expect some to argue for taxing the rich based on ability to pay, but this probably won’t suffice to produce radically higher tax rates. More politically plausible reforms include those that involve increasing taxes on the rich by appealing to the logic of equal treatment to remove deductions, exemptions, and cases of special treatment.

Kenneth Scheve is professor of political science and senior fellow at the Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies at Stanford University. He is the coauthor of Globalization and the Perceptions of American Workers. David Stasavage is Julius Silver Professor in the Wilf Family Department of Politics at New York University. He is the author of States of Credit: Size, Power, and the Development of European Polities (Princeton). Together they wrote Taxing the Rich: A History of Fiscal Fairness in the United States and Europe.

Leah Wright Rigueur: Rand Paul’s failed appeal to black voters

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Racial Blunders and Disappointment Surround
Rand Paul

By Leah Wright Rigueur

Rand Paul was supposed to be different.

But now, with news of Paul suspending his struggling campaign in the face of disappointing Iowa caucus results, an uncomfortable question looms large: what happened?

There are many well-documented reasons for Paul’s political disappointments – namely Republican voters’ rejection of the Kentucky senator’s brand of libertarianism. But aside from his tea-party-ish approach to politics, Paul’s appeal was also supposed to be rooted in his two-year effort to broaden the Republican tent.

The “unconventional” Republican candidate, pundits and scholars alike touted Paul as the politician that would finally bring black voters into the GOP fold. African Americans, Paul often argued, were an integral part of his strategy to reach the White House. Since 2013, he has publicly courted black voters, using his policy positions on mass incarceration, criminal justice reform and the militarization of the police as entryways into broader conversations with black communities. He’s been outspoken about the Republican Party’s need to court racial minorities, criticizing the GOP’s repeated failure to speak and listen to black voters.

But “Big Tent” rhetoric is nothing new; calculated GOP strategists have been endorsing minority outreach since 1936, when Republicans first lost the black vote. Embracing this trend in 2013, the Republican National Committee’s autopsy report observed that the party had to perform better among racial minorities, or it risk losing future presidential elections. When pressed, most of the Republican presidential candidates will admit as much, even when their policies and talking points undermine their claims. As ridiculous as it may sound, Donald Trump’s campaign, for example, has declared that he intends to win “100% of the black vote.”

These are relatively superficial endeavors, however. In contrast, Paul has emerged as different for two reasons: first, his willingness to play the long game – he’s been actively pursuing the black vote for over two years. Second, he’s gone beyond shallow rhetoric by sponsoring actual policies like the REDEEM Act, which he co-introduced with New Jersey Senator Cory Booker. Paul’s work in this regard has drawn praise from a diverse cross-section of black communities, from grassroots activists to political elites. The NAACP, which once challenged Paul to a debate over his controversial comments over the 1964 Civil Rights Act, applauded Paul’s outreach efforts and met with him in Ferguson, Missouri in late 2014. Less than two months ago, Paul grabbed headlines for an on-the-ground meeting with black clergy, chief among them Rev. Jamal Bryant of Empowerment Temple AME in Baltimore. Paul, Bryant has repeatedly declared, is a politician that “gets it” (the other candidate to earn high praise from Bryant? Bernie Sanders).

And to some extent, black voters seem to be far more receptive to Paul than they once were. Take for instance, a spring 2014 poll from Kentucky: 29 percent of black respondents indicated that they would support Paul over Hillary Clinton if he were the Republican presidential nominee. But local politics – especially in one’s home state – is a far cry from the national stage where polls tell a very different story. One national survey from spring 2014 found that only 17 percent of black respondents viewed Paul favorably, while 44 percent held unfavorable views. More than a third had never heard of him. Another poll, this one from 2015, seemed to suggest that Paul would gain a mere 3 percent of the black vote if pitted against Hillary Clinton. Polls are notoriously fickle and there may be many reasons for this perplexing information. For one, few pollsters actually asked black voters about Paul; another explanation may be that black voters – like the rest of the country – simply couldn’t imagine Paul as president.

But I’m more convinced that Paul’s inability to translate outreach into tangible black support has to do with his actual programs and policies, beyond criminal justice reform. Among black voters who know of Paul, there’s an obvious wariness. Most of the black people who praise Paul’s outreach are also quick to list the areas where they disagree with him: abortion, gun control, vaccines, minimum wage, voter ID, taxes, healthcare, discrimination law, and much, much more. According to PEW, 78 percent of African Americans believe the federal government should play an active role in reducing poverty – a position directly at odds with Paul’s limited government approach. In this respect, Paul is not unlike his father, Ron Paul; in 1978, a black Republican consulting firm shied away from helping the elder Paul, privately railing that his “positions on the welfare system, minimum wage, and health care were too far to the right to offer the type of sensitivity Black voters were looking for.”

And though Paul has clearly distanced himself from his father’s abhorrent racial history, the younger politician continues to have his share of public racial gaffes; the Baltimore comment in April, the Cliven Bundy meeting in June, and the “All Lives Matter” moment in August are just a few of the recent incidents that come to mind. These are not insignificant incidents; for many African Americans, moments such as these make Paul’s previous outreach efforts appear insincere. Racial blunders add a layer of mistrust and confirm pre-existing skepticism. Whenever Paul stumbled, it was easy for critics to suggest that his behavior was part of a long pattern of anti-black hostility. Or in other words, to accuse Paul of being just another “typical Republican.”

Therein lies the central dilemma: in order to win over black voters, Paul would have had to fully transcend black suspicion and cynicism about the modern Republican Party. That’s a herculean task, not only because of the party and Paul’s history, but also because of the GOP’s present-day antagonisms on matters of race. But this is a marathon, not a sprint, and Paul still has time – and opportunity – to rehabilitate his image and strengthen his relationship with black voters. He is, after all, an active candidate in the Kentucky senatorial race, where black voters will surely play an important role.

The Loneliness of the Black RepublicanLeah Wright Rigueur is assistant professor of public policy at the Harvard Kennedy School of Government. She is the author of The Loneliness of the Black Republican: Pragmatic Politics and the Pursuit of Power.

Affordable Housing in New York: An Exhibition

BloomLasner

From February 10, 2016 to May 15, 2016, the Hunter East Harlem Gallery in New York is hosting a new exhibition called Affordable Housing in New York: The People, Places, and Policies that Transformed a City, as a gallery component to the book by Matthew Gordon Lasner and Nicholas Dagen Bloom. The exhibition is free and open to the public.

Via Verde Bronx 2012, Model and plan by Matthias Altwicker, Alexander MacVicar. Christopher Alvarez, Kevin Kawiecki, photo by Eduard Hueber archphoto

Via Verde Bronx 2012, Model and plan by Matthias Altwicker, Alexander MacVicar. Christopher Alvarez, Kevin Kawiecki, photo by Eduard Hueber archphoto

The exhibition features original photographs by award-wining visual sociologist David Schalliol, interactive models of apartment interiors, and archival and other material that immerse visitors in New York City’s unique system of for low- and middle-income housing. Also on display are photographs from Project Lives, a program that provided cameras and photography classes to residents of public housing. The exhibition will be accompanied by several public programs, including walking tours and panel discussions.

Housing

This exhibition is brought to you by Hunter College Art Galleries, the Hunter College President’s Fund for Faculty Advancement, the New York Institute of Technology: School of Architecture and College of Arts and Sciences, The Journal of Planning History, and Princeton University Press.

Daniel Schlozman: Why Bernie Sanders is getting movements’ cold shoulder

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The New Establishment versus the New Movements

by Daniel Schlozman

The candidate who wants to ignite a movement is getting movements’ cold shoulder. From unions like AFSCME and the SEIU to the Sierra Club, Planned Parenthood, NARAL, and the Human Rights Campaign, powerful organizations born from social-movement activity have put their chips on Hillary Clinton – and not her insurgent rival, Bernie Sanders. Piqued, Sanders responded that “Some of these groups are, in fact, part of the establishment.” As campaign spats go, this was a revealing one. The yawning generation gap between Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton is also the latest iteration in an old battle between mature and insurgent social movements over how to play politics.

The Clinton endorsers were insurgents once, but now form the core of a new Democratic partisan establishment. It is an establishment far different from the now-vanished Eastern Establishment, the terrain of the Rockefellers and the Trilateral Commission. It admits to the club groups born of radical insurgency – and deeply besieged outside the Democratic camp. In red states, neither abortion providers not public-sector unions would call themselves a part of the establishment. But in its orientation to politics, it is an establishment, nonetheless. The Sanders campaign, by contrast, draws strength from new movements unconvinced that traditional half-a-loaf compromise will yield the society they want to see. Politicians, in this view, respond when organizable alternatives shift – and when agitation outside the electoral arena forces their hand.

Whatever their causes and constituencies, the Clinton endorsers have made the same bargain in their path to politics: they trim their sails, shed their radical fringes, shift tactics away from the streets, turn leadership over to professional advocates, protect their gains, and focus on winnable victories in concert with allied political parties. In 2016, that means, as the political director of the League of Conservation Voters tweeted, “Most important: win WH,” and it means winning with the candidate with the most conventional shot at victory. The possibility of unified Republican control frightens the entire new party establishment. And unless the Democrats somehow capture 29 seats, the House will remain in Republican hands, rendering any Democratic president’s legislative priorities dead on arrival. Those conditions, for the new establishment, call for a player of political brinksmanship.

Long-running alliance between political parties and social movements rests on a trade. Movements control resources that parties covet – votes, along with money, time, and networks that can be converted into votes – and hand them in over in exchange for policy concessions. This is a decidedly Clintonesque theory of change, emphasizing brokerage among elites and careful calibration of positions rather than mass pressure from below. As Sanders partisans have noted caustically, these endorsements have all followed decisions by boards of directors (many of them, to be fair, themselves elected), rather than direct votes from the rank-and-file.

On domestic policy, Hillary Clinton has repeatedly met her group allies’ price. She has not simply moved left with the tenor of the times; she has responded to organized pressure. And so she has pledged executive action on immigration beyond the scope of anything Barack Obama has countenanced; robustly defended abortion rights and advocated repeal of the Hyde Amendment, which since 1976 has banned federal Medicaid funding for abortions; and, in what may be a move of convenience for labor support, reversed her earlier support for the Trans-Pacific Partnership.

Bernie Sanders, for his part, thinks like the groups in the new partisan establishment thought in their own organizational salad days. Change comes from below, and politicians move only when pressure from the streets. His political revolution means to build that pressure. He aims to fill what Walter Dean Burnham once called “the large hole in voter participation… where a socialist party ‘ought’ to have developed.” Eventually, political institutions will respond. It is an incredibly tall order. But so were the dreams, from the eight-hour day to gay marriage, of so many in the new partisan establishment when first they approached politics.

Sanders’s hope comes from the two great social movements of the Obama-era left. Occupy vanished once police cleared its tents, but the movement brought onto the agenda Sanders’s core issue: corrosive economic and political inequality, and especially the outsized rewards and influence accruing to what Occupy termed the One Percent and Sanders calls the “proliferation of millionaires and billionaires.” Sanders had raised these issues for decades; when a movement brought them to the public eye, it created space for his candidacy.

Black Lives Matter arose in anger against the carceral state that Bill Clinton and other Democrats helped to build. Bernie Sanders has an uphill climb with African-American voters. He has spent decades running for office in a rural, white state – and it shows. His worldview centers around class more than race. But if he is to win the Democratic nomination, he has to gain substantial support from black voters, and the movement energy from Black Lives Matter, far more than the traditional networks centered around churches and elected officials, will help Sanders to do it. No wonder that his stump speech now incorporates the names of the victims of police violence.

More than they care to admit, the two strategies need one another. New movements need friends in high places; the new establishment needs to shed its torpor. In time, the young people leading today’s movements may themselves come think like the new Democratic establishment. Then new social movements will challenge them, in turn. This winter, however, those syntheses prove elusive as each theory of change each has an unusually sharp proponent, in Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders.

When Movements Anchor PartiesDaniel Schlozman is assistant professor of political science at Johns Hopkins University and author of When Movements Anchor Parties.

Jason Brennan: Our relationship to democracy is nonconsensual

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Democracy Doesn’t Rest on the Consent of the Governed

By Jason Brennan

There’s a popular idea—an idea you might get from middle school civics classes—that democracy is based on the consent of the governed. Now, democracy is more responsive to what people want than other forms of government, and it gives the governed a large say in what happens. However, it’s a mistake to say that the relationship individual citizens have to their government in a democracy is consensual. Let’s think about why.

Recently, I purchased a Marshall JVM amplifier from a dealer. It was an archetypical consensual transaction. It had each of the following features:

A.       I performed an act that signified my consent. In this case, I ordered the amplifier. The outcome—that I lost money but gained a JVM—would not have occurred but for my performing the act that signified consent.

B.       I was not forced to perform that act—I had a reasonable way to avoid doing it.

C.       Had I explicitly said, “I refuse to buy a Marshall JVM at that price!” the exchange never would have taken place.

D.       The dealer was not entitled to take my money unless it sent me the amplifier—it had to hold up its end of the bargain.

Now, imagine that any one of these conditions didn’t happen. Suppose, instead of A, that the dealer just extracted money from my bank account and sent me the amp, even though I’d never placed an order. In that case, that would be strange kind of theft. The dealer would have taken my money without my consent. Suppose, instead of B, the dealer (or someone else) had said, “Buy this amp or I’ll murder you.” In that case, we still wouldn’t call it consensual—it would be a weird form of theft. Suppose, instead of C, I tell the dealer, “I absolutely refuse to buy a JVM!,” but the dealer just sent it to me anyways. In that case, it would have been like it had given me a gift without my consent. If they then sent me a bill, I wouldn’t have any duty to pay it, since I’d told them I didn’t want to buy the amp. Suppose, instead of D, the dealer takes my money but never sends the amp. In that case, it would be fraud. In each of these cases, the transaction would not be consensual.

In general, our relationship as individuals to our government doesn’t look much like a consensual relationship.

If you don’t vote or participate, your government will just impose rules, regulations, restrictions, benefits, and taxes upon you. Except in exceptional circumstances, the same outcome will occur regardless of how you vote or what policies you support. So, for instance, I voted for a particular candidate in 2012. But had I abstained or voted for a different candidate, the same candidate would have won anyways. This is not like a consensual transaction, in which I order a JVM and the dealer sends me the amp I ordered. Rather, this is more a like a nonconsensual transaction in which the dealer decides to make me buy an amp no matter whether I place an order or not, and no matter what I order.

If you actively dissent, the government makes you obey its rules anyways. For instance, you can’t get out of marijuana criminalization laws by saying, “Just to be clear, I don’t consent to those laws, or to your rule”. This is unlike my relationship with my music gear dealer, where “no” means “no”. For government, your “no” means “yes”.

You have no reasonable way of opting out of government rule. Governments control all the habitable land, and most of us don’t have the resources or even the legal permission to move elsewhere. Governments won’t even let you move to Antarctica if you want to. At most, a privileged few of us can choose which government we live under, but the vast majority of us are stuck with whatever government we’re born with. This is unlike buying an amp from Sweetwater.com, which, by the way, I highly recommend as a dealer.

Finally, governments require you to obey their rules, pay taxes, and the like, even when they don’t do their part. The U.S. Supreme Court has repeatedly ruled that the government has no duty to protect individual citizens. Suppose you call the police to alert them that an intruder is in your house, but the police never bother dispatch someone to help you, and as a result the intruder shoots you. The government still requires you to pay taxes for the protection services it chose not to deploy on your behalf.

So, in summary, it looks like in general our relationship to our governments lacks any of the features that signify a consensual transaction.

None of this is to say that governments are unjust or illegitimate, or that we ought to be anarchists. There are other reasons to have governments. Nor is it to say that democracies are not in some way special. Democracies in fact do a much better job than alternative forms of government of responding to their concerns and interests of most of their members. But it’s a stretch to say that democracy rests on the consent of the governed, or, more precisely, it’s a stretch to say that you consent to democratic rule.

Check out Jason Brennan’s recent post on Why Smart Politicians Say Dumb Things.

Jason Brennan is Flanagan Family Associate Professor of Strategy, Economics, Ethics, and Public Policy at the McDonough School of Business at Georgetown University. He is the author of Markets without Limits, with Peter Jaworski (2015), Why Not Capitalism? (2014), Compulsory Voting, with Lisa Hill (2014), Libertarianism (2012), The Ethics of Voting (2011), and A Brief History of Liberty, with David Schmidtz (2010). He is currently writing Against Democracy, under contract with Princeton University Press, and Global Justice as Global Freedom, with Bas von der Vossen.

Introducing the trailer for The Little Big Number

Check out our book trailer for The Little Big Number by Dirk Philipsen for an introduction to why the concept of GDP has become harmful in our modern world.

Philipsen

In one lifetime, GDP, or Gross Domestic Product, has ballooned from a narrow economic tool into a global article of faith. It is our universal yardstick of progress. As The Little Big Number demonstrates, this spells trouble. While economies and cultures measure their performance by it, GDP ignores central facts such as quality, costs, or purpose. It only measures output: more cars, more accidents; more lawyers, more trials; more extraction, more pollution—all count as success. Sustainability and quality of life are overlooked. Losses don’t count. GDP promotes a form of stupid growth and ignores real development.

How and why did we get to this point? Dirk Philipsen uncovers a submerged history dating back to the 1600s, climaxing with the Great Depression and World War II, when the first version of GDP arrived at the forefront of politics. Transcending ideologies and national differences, GDP was subsequently transformed from a narrow metric to the purpose of economic activity. Today, increasing GDP is the highest goal of politics. In accessible and compelling prose, Philipsen shows how it affects all of us.

But the world can no longer afford GDP rule. A finite planet cannot sustain blind and indefinite expansion. If we consider future generations equal to our own, replacing the GDP regime is the ethical imperative of our times. More is not better. As Philipsen demonstrates, the history of GDP reveals unique opportunities to fashion smarter goals and measures. The Little Big Number explores a possible roadmap for a future that advances quality of life rather than indiscriminate growth.

Dirk Philipsen is a German- and American-trained professor of economic history, senior fellow at the Kenan Institute for Ethics, and a Duke Arts and Sciences Senior Research Scholar at Duke University. He is the author of We Were the People: Voices from East Germany’s Revolutionary Autumn of 1989. He lives in Durham, North Carolina.

Ellen Wu on Nikki Haley and the role of the model minority

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Nikki Haley and the American Dream

by Ellen D. Wu

Poised and polished, South Carolina Governor Nikki Haley at once personified and celebrated the American Dream as she rebutted President Obama’s final State of the Union address Tuesday. In a soft, genteel drawl, she invited her fellow Republicans to “return” the United States to “the foundation that has made America that last, best hope on earth.”

Her own biography supplied the evidence. The self-proclaimed “proud daughter of Indian immigrants,” she recounted that her parents reminded her daily “how blessed we were to live in this country.” Together, they surmounted the challenges of their modest means and their conspicuous difference in the rural South. Most importantly, like “millions” of other newcomers past and present, “we had the opportunity to do anything, to be anything, as long as we were willing to work for it.”

Just hours before the televised message, Democratic National Committee chair Debbie Wasserman Schultz charged that GOP had picked the governor because of the party’s “diversity problem.” While Republican leaders denied it, Haley’s appearance clearly fell in line with a distinct historical pattern.

For some six decades, a host of stakeholders have cast prominent Asian Americans as “model minorities” to resolve profound contradictions of race, religion, and identity in national life. Model minorities—non-whites who have “made it”—seemingly prove that the American Dream is alive and well and available to all, regardless of color or class.

Why Asian Americans? In the 1940s and 50s, wartime pressures on the United States to act fittingly as the “leader of the free world” necessitated a social repositioning of Asian immigrant populations. Previously, they had been racial pariahs: barred by law from entering the country, naturalized citizenship, and a slew of other freedoms that white people took for granted. But treating them (and other minorities) so poorly, liberals argued, imperiled US relations with their homelands. Strategically, federal authorities regarded Asia as an especially vital region—a matter of winning or losing epic global battles against fascism and Communism.

So foreign policy opened the door to the very possibility of Asian assimilation into the American mainstream. What had been unfathomable before World War II was now thinkable. Just ten years after Congress repealed the immigration and citizenship exclusion laws targeting Indian nationals (Luce-Celler Act, 1946), Democrat Dalip Singh Saund won an unlikely contest in California’s 29th Congressional District, the Republican stronghold Imperial Valley. With it, he became the first Sikh, South Asian transplant, and Asian American to join the United States Congress. In 1957, the House Foreign Affairs Committee sent him on a one-man junket to Asia to show himself as a “living example of American democracy in practice,” as he put it. Saturday Evening Post cheered the “extraordinary expedition” as “a solid contribution to improved relations between East and West.”

The admission of the Hawai‘i to the union in 1959 presented another timely occasion to tout Asian Americans as model minorities. Republican Hiram Fong—dubbed the “Hawaiian Horatio Alger”—took one of the 50th state’s first two seats in the US Senate. The son of immigrant Chinese sugarcane laborers, Fong embodied the rags-to-riches meritocracy ideal, having fought for the Air Force, worked his way through Harvard Law School, and amassed a considerable fortune through multiple business ventures. On the eve of his swearing in, Pageant magazine eulogized that this “American success story” was “clear proof that racism has no permanent place in America.”

Democrat Daniel Inouye likewise exemplified the promise of American society for immigrants and minorities. Inouye also hailed from humble beginnings to embark on a prodigious climb from Honolulu’s slums to Washington DC. As a decorated member of World War II’s legendary Japanese American 442nd Regimental Combat Team, he lost his right arm in action—a sacrifice unfailingly mentioned by reporters. After the war, Inouye attended college and law school on the GI Bill and served in the territorial legislature before capturing Hawai‘i’s sole birth in the US House of Representatives in 1959. Three years later, when Inouye defeated the scion of one of the islands’ most elite white families to land in the US Senate, Life named him one most influential young members of the nation’s “Take-Over Generation.”

As three of the most visible Asian Americans of their day, Saund, Fong, and Inouye cemented the fledgling stereotype in popular culture that “Orientals” were quiet, upstanding, don’t-rock-the-boat types. Moreover, their trajectories enthralled contemporaries because they reinforced beliefs in America’s protagonist-of-the-world, melting pot greatness.

Their narratives did other political work as well. In the case of Hawai‘i, the rise to power of Chinese and Japanese Americans (rather than Native Hawaiians) glossed over an inconvenient truth: the United States’ violent, illegal overthrow of a once-independent kingdom and its continued colonial domination and exploitation.

Against the backdrop of the intensifying black freedom movement, the success stories of Fong and Inouye had an additional, critical utility. Both politicians lived political moderation in ways that appealed variously to conservatives and liberals fearing radical change. Fong expressed support for racial equality, but also hesitated to “rush into a flood of legislation to reform a mode of living that has been going on for years in the South.”

His colleague, by comparison, actively championed the cause, voting for the historic Civil Rights Act (1964) and Voting Rights Act (1965). In his keynote address to the 1968 Democratic National Convention—the first-ever person of color in this role—Inouye described the Vietnam War as an “immoral” conflict and affirmed the right of citizens to protest. He acknowledged the “systemic racism deprivation” suffered by African Americans—a situation, he emphasized, immeasurably more dire than that faced by Asians in the United States.

Yet Inouye also was every bit the respectable, patriotic statesman—a marked contrast to contemporary direct action activists. At the same time, he called for “law and order” to be “respected and maintained.” His careful balancing act caught the attention of Lyndon B. Johnson, who urged Democratic party presidential nominee Hubert Humphrey to tap the Senator as his running mate for the 1968 election: “He answers Vietnam with that empty sleeve. He answers your problems with Nixon with that empty sleeve. He has that brown face. He answers everything in civil rights, and he draws a contrast without ever opening his mouth.”

The parallels between Haley and her predecessors are striking: immigrant roots, high-profile speech, possible Vice-Presidential contender.

Most crucially, Haley also navigates an especially fraught moment in the history of race in the United States. On the one hand, progressive voices tirelessly insist that Black Lives Matter, steering our collective attention to police brutality, mass incarceration, and a host of related issues that reproduce the egregious inequalities and injustices borne by African Americans and other minorities. On the other hand, right-wing extremists from ordinary folks to the GOP presidential frontrunners spew xenophobic, anti-Muslim, racist vitrol with little recourse—with some, frighteningly, translating their words into violence.

Too, like her forerunners, Nikki Haley adroitly assumes the role of model minority—characterized in her case by Christian assimilation, relative moderation (in the GOP context), and USA #1-brand of boosterism. Embracing her historically-prescribed role, she plays by the rules of establishment politics.

But in the end, we might ask, what are the real benefits of doing so? After all, model minority status doesn’t shield her entirely from anti-immigrant sentiment and Islamophobia (“Trump should deport Nikki Haley,” tweeted Ann Coulter in response to the governor’s remarks). What might be next—for her and all South Asians, Arab, Muslims, and Sikhs in our communities?

Model minorities can’t resolve the contradictions of party politics, much less the vexing conundrums of race, religion, and national identity. Only meaningful, material investments in the common good—prioritizing the most vulnerable among us—can do that. Once we collectively recognize this, we can then move forward to transforming the American Dream from an illusive mirage to a substantive reality for all.

Wu jacketEllen D. Wu is assistant professor of history at Indiana University, Bloomington, and author of The Color of Success.

 

 

 

How Texas law will shape the women’s vote

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The Explosive Potential of the Whole
Woman’s Health Case

by Nancy Woloch

On March 2 the Supreme Court will hear arguments about a 2013 Texas law that affects access to abortion. The law at issue in Whole Woman’s Health v. Cole requires doctors who perform abortions to have admitting privileges at a nearby hospital (no more than thirty miles from the clinic). It also requires abortion clinics to have facilities equivalent to those at an outpatient surgical center, that is, more equipment than Texas law demands in doctors’ offices where more hazardous procedures such as colonoscopies or liposuctions are performed. The rise of the Whole Woman case just as an election looms may provoke voters in ways unsought by sponsors of the Texas law.

Several Texas clinics challenged the law, but a federal appeals court, the Fifth Circuit, upheld the new requirements. The Supreme Court now faces several questions: Does the law protect women’s health, as Texas claims? Does the law impose an “undue burden” on women who seek abortions? The “undue burden” consideration arose in Planned Parenthood v. Casey (1992), which confirms the right to abortion set forth in Roe v. Wade (1973). A law can be an undue burden, states the Casey decision, if it has “the purpose or effect of placing a substantial obstacle in the path of a woman seeking an abortion.” It is likely that the Supreme Court, when it reviews the Texas case, will further explicate “undue burden,” “substantial obstacle,” and, especially, “purpose or effect.”

Texas claims that it has “wide discretion” to pass medical regulations, that it enacted the 2013 law to protect the health of those who seek abortions, that the law ensures qualified doctors, and that it cuts delay if a patient needs a hospital. The clinics contend that the state requirements were not designed to promote women’s health, that the law is a tactic to close clinics, and that it imperils women’s health by “reducing access to safe and legal abortion.” Since 2013, critics of the law charge, the 42 clinics that once provided access to abortion in Texas now number nineteen and would dwindle to ten if the law survives review. Amicus briefs that support the clinics have started to accumulate, including a brief by historians who work with legal issues. Laws that claim to protect women’s health can restrict women’s choice, the historians state, and thus “warrant careful scrutiny by this Court.” The Court will consider whether the Fifth Circuit decision reflects precedents in abortion law, as supporters of the Texas law claim, or whether the Fifth Circuit acted in error when it enabled Texas to enforce the new law, as its detractors argue.

The Whole Woman’s Health case, to be decided in June 2016, has explosive potential. The Supreme Court has not issued a major decision on abortion since Gonzales v. Carhart (2007), which upheld a federal law barring what is called “partial birth” abortion. The Whole Woman’s Health decision will affect the options of women in Texas, especially in rural Texas, who may find the right to an abortion out of reach. The decision will also affect women in Mississippi, where a kindred case, one that involves hospital admission requirements for doctors, has arisen and where only a single clinic that provides abortion remains. The Supreme Court has not yet decided whether to consider the Mississippi case, Currier v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization. The decision in Whole Woman’s Health, finally, will reach women in other states that have enacted abortion regulations similar to those in Texas, such as Wisconsin, Louisiana, and Alabama, and in states that intend to do so.

The Whole Woman’s Health decision will have further ramifications in an election year. Whichever way the Court may go—and there has no been signal as to what might happen—the conflict over the Texas law is likely to sway the women’s vote. The reappearance of a major abortion case will remind undecided women voters that state legislators, who are likely to be men (in Texas the lawmakers of 2013 were 80 percent male), can voice opinions that have an impact on women’s health – or even act to impede women’s rights under the pretext of protecting women’s health. Similarly, the Texas case will remind women voters of what a yet more conservative Supreme Court, with new members chosen by a future president, might decide. Overall, the case will prompt women voters to think about the fragility of women’s rights. Whatever happens in the Supreme Court, the timing of the Whole Woman’s Health decision may well advantage Democrats.

Woloch jacketNancy Woloch teaches history at Barnard College, Columbia University. Her books include A Class by Herself, Women and the American Experience and Muller v. Oregon: A Brief History with Documents.

What should the presidential candidates be reading? WSJ: Robert Gordon’s book

Election_Blog_Series_Banner2[1]gordon jacketAccording to this piece in the Wall Street Journal, “Every presidential candidate should be asked what policies he or she would offer to increase the pace of U.S. productivity growth and to narrow the widening gap between winners and losers in the economy. Bob Gordon’s list is a good place to start.”

What does Gordon say about growth? For starters, he challenges the view that economic growth can or will continue unabated. So how would today’s presidential candidates meet this challenge? Read the Wall Street Journal article here:

In his new book, “The Rise and Fall of American Growth: The U.S. Standard of Living Since the Civil War,” Northwestern University economist Bob Gordon argues that the century between 1870 and 1970 was exceptionally good for U.S. households (particularly 1920 to 1950) but that the years since 1970 have been disappointing and the future looks disappointing too.

His postscript includes a few thoughts that deserve immediate attention in today’s economic policy debates: Whatever the causes of the distressing slowdown in the growth of productivity (the amount of stuff produced for each hour of work) and the increase in inequality, what policies might both increase productivity and decrease inequality?

Many years ago, economist Art Okun argued that we had to choose between policies that increased efficiency and those that increased equity. Perhaps. But  if there are policies that could achieve both, it’s time to try them.

Mr. Gordon lists several at the end of his book, some conventional and others less so.

To read what these policies are, continue reading the Wall Street Journal article here.

Robert J. Gordon is the Stanley G. Harris Professor in the Social Sciences at Northwestern University. His books include Productivity Growth, Inflation, and Unemployment and Macroeconomics. Gordon was included in the 2013 Bloomberg list of the nation’s most influential thinkers.

Philosopher Jason Stanley on Donald Trump and mass incarceration

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Donald Trump and Mass Incarceration

by Jason Stanley

Donald Trump’s support is in large part due to the fact that he gives explicit voice to ideologies that are outside the bounds of public respectability. It is natural to think that the problem then is not Trump, but rather the prevalence of these ideologies. Indeed, you might think that in some sense Donald Trump couldn’t be the problem. A candidate giving voice to such ideologies would only attract support to the extent to which those ideologies have underlying support. If so, much of the criticism that has been directed at Trump’s candidacy is misguided. Perhaps we should even be grateful to Trump for making explicit what is so often present yet hypocritically denied.

And yet it is a powerful thought that the very mark of a demagogue is precisely their willingness to exploit the ideological spaces left firmly outside the sphere of “respectable” public discourse. Hannah Arendt writes:

…the spokesmen for totalitarian movements possessed an unerring instinct for anything that ordinary party propaganda or public opinion did not care or dare to touch. Everything hidden, everything passed over in silence, became of major significance, regardless of its own intrinsic importance. The mob really believed that truth was whatever respectable society had hypocritically passed over.[1]

Arendt is quite clear that Trump’s campaign strategy is the favored choice of democracy’s worst enemies. But she does not explain how giving public voice to disreputable ideology is a greater threat to democracy than the fact of its existence.

The prevalence of xenophobia, Islamophobia, racism, and commitment to harsh retributive justice is undeniably a problem that is independent of Donald Trump. But Trump’s political strategy poses an additional threat to democratic practice. Even when fundamentally illiberal ideologies are publicly repudiated, they serve as barriers to fair democratic deliberation, as politicians appeal to them with the use of coded language (“inner city”, “welfare”). As long as the public ethos against them remains firmly in place, there is a strategy to combat coded appeals to illiberal ideologies, colloquially known as “calling it out”. But Trump is not denying he holds these ideologies; he rather advertises it. In so doing, he legitimizes these ideologies in the public domain. When illiberal ideologies are rendered legitimate, it is no longer clear what strategy to employ to combat them.

In a healthy democracy, democratic deliberation is guided by a norm of impartiality, in the sense that policy makers at least take themselves to be responsible to such a norm, others take them to be responsible to this norm, etc. In political philosophy, there are disputes about which notions of impartiality should be at the basis of liberal democracy. The most important aspect of impartiality is what has come to be known as reasonableness. To be reasonable in one’s conduct towards others is a matter of being open to these other perspectives.

The norm of reasonableness has a long history in democratic political thought. The most well-known contemporary formulation is due to John Rawls:

Persons are reasonable in one basic aspect when, among equals say, they are ready to propose principles and standards as fair terms of cooperation and to abide by them willingly, given the assurance that others will likewise do so. Those norms they view as reasonable for everyone to accept and therefore as justifiable to them; and they are ready to discuss the fair terms that others propose. (John Rawls, Political Liberalism, p. 49)

It could hardly be fair to expect some citizens to comply with a policy if it was devised without their perspectives in mind. Policy that is genuinely fair must come from deliberation that takes every reasonable perspective into account. The stability of democracy as a system therefore depends upon a citizenry who are not sealed off from the perspectives of their reasonable co-citizens by fear, panic, or hatred. A general belief that Jews are out to deceive will undermine reasonable public discourse, as it will lead citizens to discount the actual perspective of their Jewish co-citizens in forming policy. It would be no surprise to discover in such a society policies unfair to Jewish citizens.

Problematic ideological divisions do not immediately disappear in a society even when wars are fought to overcome them. But in the presence of a public ethos that repudiates them, it becomes unacceptable to endorse them in public. As Tali Mendelberg has brilliantly described, this does not mean that the problematic ideological fissures become politically neutralized. It rather means that politicians who seek to exploit them must do so in a way that does not undermine the public’s view of them as reasonable public servants. This dialectic, applied to the ideological fissure of racism in the United States, is aptly reflected in a 1981 interview with Lee Atwater, later to lead George H.W. Bush’s 1988 presidential campaign, with the notorious Willie Horton ad:

You start out in 1954 by saying, “Nigger, nigger, nigger.” By 1968 you can’t say “nigger”—that hurts you, backfires. So you say stuff like, uh, forced busing, states’ rights, and all that stuff, and you’re getting so abstract. Now, you’re talking about cutting taxes, and all these things you’re talking about are totally economic things and a byproduct of them is, blacks get hurt worse than whites.… “We want to cut this,” is much more abstract than even the busing thing, uh, and a hell of a lot more abstract than “Nigger, nigger.”

When a politician uses language that explicitly represents a group in negative terms, it undercuts the social norm that keeps such ideological fissures part of the private sphere. Since it is assumed that legitimate public discourse is guided by a norm of reasonableness, it gives an aura of reasonableness to the description of Muslims as terrorists, Mexican immigrants as “rapists”, or climate science as “bullshit”.

Certain ideologies subordinate by targeting a group, and representing the perspectives of its members as unworthy of consideration in the formation of policy. In the extreme case, such ideologies dehumanize its targets. When ideologies that subordinate or dehumanize a group are legitimated in public debate about policies governing members of that group, democratic deliberation about policy is placed into crisis. We can see this process quite clearly at work by considering the effects of public discourse about US criminal justice practices from the late 1980s through the 1990s.

Violent crime declined continuously and steeply throughout the 1990s, beginning in 1991. But the debate about criminal justice policy and practice during this time was ideologically removed from this reality. Criminal justice policy had become a proving ground for politicians to demonstrate their perceived toughness. Debate was infused by an ethos that frowned on expressions of empathy for perpetrators. Dehumanizing vocabulary targeting those caught up in the criminal justice system was commonplace, and many of the words were racially coded (“super predator”, “thug”, “gang member”, though not “sex offender”). Rehabilitation is hard to envisage for those described as “thugs”, “super predators”, or “gangsters”. These are words that describe persons whose characters are resistant to any such method. Criminal justice practices became harshly retributive as a consequence.

Though the precise mechanisms continue to be a matter of debate, it is widely agreed that the culture surrounding crime policy had an effect on criminal justice practices that was both rapid and extreme. The U.S. Incarceration rate hovered around the norm for liberal democracies of 100 per 100,000 for many decades until the late 1970s. Then it started to rise; the current rate of 756 per 100,000 in prison or jail is by far the highest in the world. The United States has also developed a culture of policing marked by a level of fear and lack of empathy that is without parallel in liberal democracies (a 2015 headline of an article in the Guardian states “By the Numbers: US Police Kill More in Days than Other Countries do in Years”). Nor is the unprecedented decrease in crime since 1991 tightly connected to the intensely punitive criminal justice path the United States chose to take in the 1990s. Canada has experienced a similarly unprecedented drop in crime during this same time period, without following the US path into mass incarceration.

The harshly punitive criminal justice practices that emerged from the American public culture of the 1990s have harmed the United States morally and fiscally, as well as its standing in the world. Rhetoric in the public sphere that describes immigrants as “rapists” and “terrorists” can be expected to have a similar effect on immigration policy. And since Trump uses all opportunity for political debate as a means to signal toughness, the realization of the electoral power of his political strategy poses a broad challenge to democratic practices.

Let us return to the comparison between a political climate in which politicians must cleverly conceal an appeal to (say) racism so it is noticed only by fellow racists, on the one hand, and one in which politicians feel free to loudly proclaim it, on the other. A plausible moral to take from the politics of criminal justice policy and practice in the United Slates in the late 1980s and 1990s is that there is a significant additional policy cost in the latter climate. Politicians signaled their toughness to voters by flaunting their lack of empathy for those accused of crimes. The criminal justice practices that grew out of this were harshly cruel and socially and economically destructive.

American politicians typically avoid rhetorical strategies that explicitly dehumanize even widely disparaged groups. In the 1980s and 1990s, this mechanism of protection evaporated in the debate surrounding criminal justice. American politicians eagerly trolled for votes by employing incendiary rhetoric to describe criminal offenders. The result is the current crisis.

Trump’s candidacy is focused on policy debates whose structure parallels that of the criminal justice debate, where there is a clear “friend/enemy” distinction exploitable for political gain, such as immigration and terrorism. His rhetoric emulates the dehumanizing tropes of the late 1980s and 1990s criminal justice debate. This is no accident, as Trump developed this rhetorical style during these very debates. Indeed, any history of the rhetorical excesses of that debate must include the full page advertisement Donald Trump published in several New York city newspapers in 1989, during the trial of the Central Park Five, the five teenagers on trial for the brutal rape of a jogger in Central Park, entitled BRING BACK THE DEATH PENALTY BRING BACK OUR POLICE”. It said the “crazed misfits” causing crime in city streets “should be forced to suffer, and when they kill, should be executed for their crimes” (the teenagers were later discovered to be innocent). In the current campaign, criminal justice is again central. Trump urges the country, in language evoking that previous era, “we have to get a lot tougher on crime.” One of this signature campaign issues is broadening the use of the death penalty. His “tough on crime” rhetoric has already been credited with threatening to undermine the bipartisan consensus that there is a crisis of incarceration.

Trump is also increasingly experimenting with the most extreme dehumanizing representations, ones that have pre-genocidal associations. His first national advertisement, released this week, showed Mexican immigrants as insects scurrying and scattering like an infestation. It would be nice to dismiss such representations as unlikely to affect public debate. History suggests that this is wishful thinking. The representation of targeted groups as insects or vermin is a theme in Nazi propaganda about Jews; in the buildup to the Rwandan genocide, Hutu ethnic radio pride radio stations began calling Tutsi, “inyenzi”, meaning “cockroach”. Recent US history with the criminal justice debate suggests we may even be particularly vulnerable.

In the late 1980s and throughout the 1990s, politicians across the political spectrum seemed to tacitly agree that reasonable criminal justice policy would have to be sacrificed for electoral expediency. Debate about criminal justice became a way of appealing to the worst appeals to fear and voters’ desire for revenge, without fear of social sanction by the media or the public. Democrats could freely use it to enact the flawed masculine ideal of a complete lack of empathy. The case of US criminal justice policy shows that when democratic deliberation breaks down in this way, it is not just the democratic process that is lost. Trump’s campaign promises to broaden this to every policy debate. Its success is already leading to broader emulation. More than just our democracy is in peril.

[1] Hannah Arendt, The Origins of Totalitarianism (Harcourt Brace and Company: San Diego, 1973), p. 351.

Stanley jacketJason Stanley is the Jacob Urowsky Professor of Philosophy at Yale University. Most recently, he is the author of How Propaganda Works. Read more on his website, here.

PUP to launch Election 2016 blog

Election logoPrinceton University Press is excited to launch our 2016 Election blog, with the first post going live tomorrow. Following the success of our 2012 Election 101 series, the new series will feature weekly posts from our authors on a variety of hot button election issues, including immigration, race, the role of women, Islamophobia, welfare, prison reform, inequality, provocative rhetoric, children’s issues, and much more. Among many others, our bloggers will include Jason Stanley, author of How Propaganda Works, Lydia Bean, author of The Politics of Evangelical Identity, and Jason Brennan, author of The Ethics of Voting. Author Leah Wright Rigueur, who contributed a popular PUP blog series on the issue of race in the GOP, will be sharing her ongoing insights on race, civil rights, and political ideology. John Sides and Lynn Vavreck, who wrote The Gamble in 2012—a book Nate Silver called “the definitive account of what really happened and what really mattered in the campaign”—will be launching, along with political scientist Michael Tesler, a new account of the 2016 presidential campaign. The book and the accompanying blog posts will be informed by original polling, rich datasets of media coverage and campaign advertising, and cutting-edge political science research.

Check back tomorrow when we kick off with our first post by Jason Stanley. We hope you’ll follow along throughout what promises to be an unpredictable (not that it will stop us from trying) and captivating election year.

-Debra Liese, PUP blog editor