Jonathan Zimmerman: Sanders’ Judaism matters

zimmerman jacketJonathan Zimmerman, author of Too Hot to Handle: A Global History of Sex Education, recently posted an op ed in the Los Angeles Times. Though Zimmerman has often written about sex education as one of the most divisive issues in modern schooling, this time he zeroes in on what has been perhaps the most surprising “non issue” of the 2016 presidential campaign: The lack of talk and excitement surrounding Bernie Sanders as a Jewish candidate.

Zimmerman notes that “Americans yawned” in response to the news when Sanders won the New Hampshire primary. Trying to find a reason for the lack of publicity or discussion, he writes that:

. . . Clinton plays up the first-woman deal, while Sanders downplays his Judaism. He has never belonged to a synagogue, his wife isn’t Jewish, and he hasn’t been to Israel since a volunteer stint on a kibbutz in the early 1960s. But there’s more to the story of our collective insouciance. Perhaps we can’t see what a big deal Sanders’ candidacy truly is because we’ve forgotten how much prejudice Jews encountered for most of our political history.

According to Zimmerman, Sanders’ presidential run can’t be appreciated without a look at the Jewish politicians who have gone on before him. Read the rest of the piece here for an extensive look at the history of Jewish politicians and the slander and backlash that have historically followed their appointment to various positions in the American government.

Jonathan Zimmerman is professor of education and history at New York University. His books include Small Wonder: The Little Red Schoolhouse in History and Memory and Innocents Abroad: American Teachers in the American Century. His writing has appeared in the New York Times, the Washington Post, and other publications. His most recent book is Too Hot to Handle: A Global History of Sex Education.

Zoltan L. Hajnal: Trump’s strategy is nothing new for the GOP

Election Blog Series

Donald Trump disparages Muslims. He attacks Mexican immigrants. He insults women. And what happens? Voters flock to him.

Trump’s rapid rise to the top of the Republican polls and his enduring role as the Party’s front runner have sparked all kinds of diverse reactions. The Republican establishment is running scared. The Democratic Party is acting appalled. And the media appears to be enthralled. But the most common reaction of all is surprise. Almost everyone wonders how this could be happening? How can a campaign premised on prejudice and denigration be so successful? How can it endure?

Even though everyone seems surprised, nobody should be. Trump’s strategy is tried and true. It has been developed over decades by the Republican Party and it has worked in many earlier periods in American history.

Well before Donald Trump arrived on the Presidential scene, my colleague, Marisa Abrajano, and I wrote a book documenting the widely successful Republican tactic of scapegoating immigrants. By blaming immigrants for much of what ails America and by promising to stem the tide of immigration, Republican elites were able to garner more and more of the white vote. In 1990, white voters were (almost) evenly divided between Democratic and Republican congressional candidates and there was almost no correlation between attitudes on immigration and white partisanship. Today, after years of Republican campaigning against immigrants, whites who express fears about immigrants are 60 percent more likely vote Republican than whites who view immigrants positively and whites overall are flocking to the Republican Party. In 2014, 62 percent of white voters favored Republican candidates in Congressional contests.

Well before my co-author and I were born, the Republican Party had firmly decided on its infamous Southern Strategy. Personified by George Wallace’s segregationist rhetoric, the strategy was to dismiss black demands for ever greater government handouts and to highlight all of the failings of the black community and in so doing attract racist white Southerners who had faithfully supported the Democratic Party. Through Goldwater, Nixon, Reagan and onto George H. W. Bush, the campaign tactics were sometimes subtle and sometimes not so subtle. But almost always there was a hint of race in the air and at least an implicit denigration of African Americans. For white Southerners it was all too attractive. White Southerners went from overwhelmingly siding with the Democratic Party in 1960 to overwhelmingly voting for Republican candidates in 1990.

The end result of these decades-long Republican Party campaigns is widespread Republican Party success today. Republicans currently control the Senate. They are in the majority in the House. They occupy the Governor’s mansion in some 31 States and they are the majority party in 32 States. By attacking America’s immigrants and disparaging its racial minorities, the Republican Party may have lost a number of racial and ethnic minority votes but it has very much won the wider electoral war.

As the 2016 election looms in the future, many continue to express wonder at Trump’s success and to marvel that he has stayed at the front for so long. And they are all but certain that he can’t succeed. A campaign premised on America’s baser instincts can’t ultimately succeed in 2014.

Or can it? There is still a lot that can and almost assuredly will happen during the campaign. Trump may falter. He may not win the Presidency or even the Republican nomination. But history tells us that we should not be surprised if something entirely different and entirely implausible happens – Trump actually wins. Trump is not new. His campaign is not new. If he does not falter, if he goes on to win the nomination and the election in November, we should not be surprised. We should fight against these baser instincts and these abhorrent tactics. But we should never be surprised when they succeed.
White Backlash

Zoltan L. Hajnal is a professor of political science at the University of California San Diego and is co-author of White Backlash: Immigration, Race, and American Politics (2015). He is a member of the Scholars Strategy Network.

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

Election_Blog_Series_Banner2[1]

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.

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

election blog banner logo

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

election blog banner logo

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.

How Texas law will shape the women’s vote

Election_Blog_Series_Banner2[1]

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

election blog banner

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

 

New Anthropology Catalog 2016

We invite you to scroll through our latest Anthropology catalog.

MushroomCheck out The Mushroom at the End of the World by Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing, an investigation of Matsutake, the most valuable mushroom in the world and its amazing ability to survive and, indeed, thrive in human-disrupted landscapes. Using the mushroom as an example, she sheds light on the relationship between the darker side of capitalism and collaborative survival.

 

 

 

 

 

RighteousIn Righteous Transgressions, Lihi Ben Shitrit examines how women in conservative religious societies find ways to circumvent strict ideas about their role to engage in the political arena using four groups as examples: the Jewish settlers in the West Bank, the ultra-Orthodox Shas, the Islamic Movement in Israel, and the Palestinian Hamas.

 

 

 

 

 

YoungFinally, Avi Max Spiegel examines the competition among established Arab Muslim groups to gain the support of the growing population of youths among their ranks in Young Islam. He focuses not only on the work of established Muslim thinkers, but also the growing body of writing from the younger generation to make the case that the nature of Islamist movements is changing.

 

 

 

If you’d like updates on new titles, you can subscribe to our newsletter.

PUP will be at the American Anthropological Association Annual Meeting from November 18 to November 22 in Denver—visit us at booth #310!

Finally, for a limited time we are offering 30% off on select print titles.

ssfall30

Leah Wright Rigueur: The Republican Party has a Race Problem

Leah Wright RigueurToday, Harvard Kennedy School of Government Professor of Public Policy, Leah Wright Rigueur continues her PUP blog series on the role of race in the modern Republican party. Her last piece, cross-posted on the Monkey Cage Blog, was on the surge in Ben Carson’s popularity among Republican voters in a race often dominated by Donald Trump. Today she looks at whether—and how—the “party of Lincoln” can win back black voters. Leah’s recent book, The Loneliness of the Black Republican, offers further insight into the seemingly incongruous intersection of civil rights and American conservatism. We’re delighted to feature her next installment. –PUP Blog Editor

The Republican Party has a Race Problem. Actually, that’s an understatement. The modern Republican Party has a race crisis – one of epic proportions. In the 2012 election, 80 percent of all non-white voters (Black, Hispanic, Asians and other minority groups), voted for President Barack Obama. Nowhere was this more apparent then with black voters – only 6 percent supported Republican nominee Mitt Romney. That’s the lowest amount of support a Republican presidential nominee has received since 1964.

The GOP’s 2013 autopsy report said it best noting that unless the party got serious about tackling the race issue, it would “lose future elections.” And in some respects, some within the party have tried to make racial inroads, particularly among black voters. Unfortunately the Republican presidential primaries have made those outreach efforts a distant memory, as candidates appear to be tripping over themselves to say the most racially offensive things possible. From police brutality jokes, to “media manipulation” comments, to “free stuff” gaffes, the hits keep coming.

The racial gaffes of the primary contenders are a reflection of a party that has a fundamental discomfort with discussing race. That the party has a torturous relationship to racial minorities in 2015 is unsurprising, given that GOP’s public attempts to wrestle with race have been near non-existent except in moments of antagonism.

So where did things go wrong? How did the “Party of Lincoln” fall by the wayside and move so far away from its “civil rights” roots?

The answer isn’t an easy one. Most would point to a long history of racial antagonisms, starting with Barry Goldwater receiving the Republican presidential nomination in 1964. But I’d argue that the disintegration of the relationship goes back even further – just look at Herbert Hoover’s “Lily White” movement or Operation Dixie from the 1950s.

The irony here is that as some within the GOP were hell-bent on alienating non-white voters during this period, others within the party went to great lengths to appeal to racial minorities. That those appeals were effective and coincided with strong (but piece-meal) civil rights decisions from the Republican Party, is a testimony to the support figures like Dwight Eisenhower and Richard Nixon received in 1956 and 1960, respectively.

Yet even as they pursued the non-white vote, Republicans continually weighed this pursuit against the possibility of alienating white southern voters. By 1963, for instance, the GOP had started to exclude African Americans from strategy meetings; a year later, the party had all but eliminated funding for minority outreach efforts and almost all of its black consultants. By the time the party nominated Barry Goldwater for president after a brutal convention battle, racial minorities, especially black voters, had already determined that the GOP offered no sanctuary for racial minorities. Goldwater, after all, was the same senator who had voted against the most comprehensive civil rights act the nation had ever seen. To position such a figure as the face of the Republican Party was a slap, erasing any goodwill the party’s previous efforts had generated.

Richard Nixon had predicted such a disaster, back in 1962, telling Ebony magazine that it would be a mistake for the Republican Party to “accept the beliefs” of Goldwater and “write off the Negro vote.” A Goldwater win, he argued, would mean that the GOP “would eventually become the first major all white political party. And that isn’t good. That would be a violation of GOP principles.”

That Richard Nixon – later of “Southern Strategy” infamy – would make that observation is telling. It speaks to a deep cynicism that invaded the Republican Party prior to Goldwater’s ascent, and took off after Goldwater’s presidential defeat. The next decade and a half would be defined by a party that veered wildly between centrism and right-wing conservatism and a party that fought an ugly, fierce fight over relationship between civil rights and conservatism. Are we an “inclusive or exclusive tent?” was common question among Republican thought leaders throughout the 1960s and 1970s; on the question of race, the party simply could not agree.

For every Edward Brooke in the party there was a Strom Thurmond; more important, was the fact that for every racially progressive initiative, there were at least half a dozen discriminatory actions. As Richard Nixon, for example, poured millions into minority enterprise, historically black colleges and universities, and introduced a progressive Family Assistance Plan, he also cut billions from antipoverty programs, opposed an extension of the Voting Rights Act, and nominated two southerners to the Supreme Court with odious civil rights records. Gerald Ford appointed civil rights lawyer William Coleman as Secretary of Transportation and regularly met with black civic and religious organizations but refused to dedicate significant money and time to minority outreach or racial issues. The GOP’s forceful rejection of any attempt to diversify state and local organizations undercut the party’s rhetoric of a “Big Tent” philosophy. Likewise in 1976, the GOP’s black delegates to the national convention denounced the party’s final platform, alienated by Republicans’ unwillingness to attend to matters of race in a sensitive and thoughtful manner.

But it is Ronald Reagan who offers the most complicated example of the Republican Party’s fractious relationship with race. In 1975 he argued that broadening the GOP base through targeted outreach was a rejection of conservative principles; and in 1976, he ran for president using the now infamous “Welfare Queen” trope. But by 1980, he had changed his mind – somewhat. He and his team employed an approach called “Reagan Focused Impact” (RFI) which relayed conservative messages to target constituent groups while appearing race-neutral. According to campaign memos, those groups were “white, suburbanite ticket-splitters.” Here’s where things get complicated: part of this approach meant campaigning in black and Latino spaces – visiting the South Bronx and talking about economic inequality, for instance – all while simultaneously speaking differently to white southern audiences. The same week that Reagan delivered his infamous “States’ Rights” speech in Philadelphia, Mississippi (the site where 3 civil rights workers had been murdered 16 years earlier), he spoke to the National Urban League. As his strategists explicitly note, these outreach efforts were designed to neutralize black leaders’ outrage while generating positive press among white moderate voters.

In the 30 plus years since then, this approach has guided Republican politics, appearing alongside the more explicit racial gaffes. Sometimes, minority audiences endorse it (Ralph Abernathy did endorse Reagan in 1980), but most of the times, minorities reject the party’s approach, viewing it as insincere and hostile.

The million-dollar question of course, is can the Republican Party win back minority voters? Recent scholarship on the matter doesn’t look promising and the racial “foot-in-mouth” syndrome of the presidential candidates isn’t helping. Neither is the Republican Party’s unwillingness to listen to minority voters on issues of concern or eagerness to advance a revisionist history of the GOP’s relationship to civil rights. Returning to the “Party of Lincoln” isn’t impossible, but it means taking a thoughtful, sensitive approach to racial issues, listening to voter concerns, and endorsing policies and initiatives that reflect those concerns. A small step in the right direction has been the GOP’s interest in mass incarceration reform. At a moment in time when race is going to be central to the 2016 campaign, it remains to be seen if Republicans will address racial issues in a complex, nuanced way that rests on inclusion rather than alienation or exclusion.

Leah Wright Rigueur is an Assistant Professor of Public Policy at the Harvard Kennedy School. She is the author of The Loneliness of the Black Republican: Pragmatic Politics and the Pursuit of Power (Princeton University Press, 2015).

Ian Goldin discusses the migration crisis

Exceptional people jacketWith the wave of migrants and refugees from the Middle East traveling to Europe, migration has once again become a politically and emotionally heated international debate. In this exclusive PUP interview, Ian Goldin, Oxford University Professor of Globalisation and Development, author of The Butterfly Defect, and co-author of Exceptional People, clarifies the facts and dismisses the myths about this societal movement that dates back hundreds of years.

Why did you write your book, Exceptional People?

IG: I believe that the debate about migration is dominated by emotional rather than fact-based responses. I wrote the book to assemble the available evidence and place current debates in both a historical and future looking context. In the USA, the immigration debate is as politically charged as it is in Europe and many other countries. But as the book shows, no country would be where it is today without the benefit of waves of previous immigrants.

Are there more migrants today than in the past?

IG: Migrants today account for about 3% of the world’s population, which is roughly the same proportion as it has been over the past hundred years. It is actually lower as a share of the US or European population than it was in the age of mass migration in the second half of the 19th century. Migrants are defined as people crossing international borders, so the fact that there are 100 more countries in the world today means than 100 years ago, means that people that used to move within a country, are now defined as migrants. This trend has accelerated with the break-up of the Soviet Union, and the rise of independence movements.

What do you think are the main myths about migrants?

IG: That they take locals jobs, that they reduce wages, that they increase unemployment, that they are a drain on government budgets and that they are more prone to commit crime. None of these fallacies are borne out by the evidence.

Surely new arrivals means less employment and lower wages for locals?

IG: Although this seems to be intuitively obvious, it is not borne out by numerous studies. The reason is that migrants tend to fill needs in the labour market which local people are not providing, allowing the economy to grow more rapidly, which in turn creates more jobs and provides more taxes and services and leads to higher incomes and wages. This is both true of unskilled workers, where migrants allow greater levels of participation of local workers. For example, female workforce participation increases as migrants undertake tasks such as childcare that may keep mothers at home. And migrants create cheaper goods and services, such as food, cleaning and hospital care, which allows locals to be better off and spend more on other services undertaken by locals, such as professional and entertainment services. Migrants are also a powerful source of dynamism and innovation in society as is evident from Silicon Valley and a quick scan of who the Nobel Prize and Academy Award winners are. This increases the growth rate and competitiveness of societies, which leads to higher levels of employment and wages. It also provides for more dynamic and diverse entertainment, food, fashion and other choices for citizens.

So are there no costs associated with migration?

IG: There are costs. Particular communities may at times feel understandably threatened by the inflow of individuals with different cultural, religious or other views. Groups of workers may also feel the competitive pressures of immigrants. The challenge for cities, states and countries is to manage these flows, to ensure that each wave of immigrants is integrated effectively into society. The benefits of migration are national and are felt strongest in the medium term, whereas the costs tend to be local and short-term. This is why communities may need help, for example in ensuring that migrants do not put undue pressure on housing or education or other local services. The answer is not to stop migration, but to manage it more effectively.

Are there good examples?

IG: The USA is the best example, as its history is one of immigration. As I show in Exceptional People, it is vital that the lessons from this and other successful experiences are learnt to ensure that migration continues to play its central role in meeting the challenges of the future.

What about refugees?

IG: Refugees are very different to other migrants as they are in severe danger of death or persecution if they remain in their home countries. There is an internationally agreed legal definition of what constitutes a refugee. The desperate situation of Syrians illustrates that despite the legal and ethical imperatives, refugees regularly are denied safe passage and asylum. In principle, refugees aim to return home when it is safe to do so, but they may be compelled to stay in their host countries for many years. I show in Exceptional People that the policies of the host country, including as to whether refugees are allowed to work, fundamentally shapes the extent to which they are able to integrate and contribute economically.

Ian Goldin is Oxford University Professor of Globalisation and Development. He has served as vice president of the World Bank and advisor to President Nelson Mandela, and chief executive of the Development Bank of Southern Africa. His many books include Globalization for Development and The Butterfly Defect.