I drink for free and pay ... Kornbluth

And Paul Frederick, Cyril Kornbluth, Donald A good friend of Paul and Asimov Wolheim section is about, I know, Kornbluth was disliked, but just found out . PS: C M Kornbluth is the death of 1958 ( "Space Merchants", "Shin Dick"). The 1960 shooting death of Neville ( "On the Beach", "Piper PAIDO"). Kornbluth seek someone's her natural scientist Olaf Stapledon. Including supporting the work of building a good tempo, and rhythm is good.

Then, yesterday, as I was walking around San Francisco before a gig (and listening, by the way, to a lovely album of cool people covering Stephen Foster songs, Beautiful Dreamer), I got to thinking about our recent national election, and how faith seemed to be a dividing line among voters. (Warning: My "ideas" here are very fuzzy; proceed with caution.) I was trying to get inside the heads of those millions of people who voted for Bush, and for other politicians who -- to my mind -- spoke of "moral values" but whose policies, such as gutting the tax base so that Head Start programs (for example) are decimated, I consider to be profoundly immoral.

As I continued to walk around, I kept returning to my core belief that virtually everyone -- Republicans and Democrats, city folks and rural dwellers -- largely share the same fundamental goal: to protect our loved ones from a terrifyingly random (though glorious) universe. We are specks in the cosmos, allotted just a glimmer of time and space; and yet, we have consciousness, which has led to: books, music, art, politics. All of which -- and I am especially focused on politics here -- must somehow simultaneously deal with the glory of our accidental existence but also the acknowledgment (and dread) of its uncontrollable end.

So here we are, in a secular world (or at least, some of us are trying to make it secular), and it is hard -- on a day-to-day, even moment-by-moment, basis -- to find an acknowledgment of our flickering majesty anywhere around us. We lose the vector. We fear our lives have no meaning, and that we will leave no trace. We feel small. We are small. And yet, and yet ... we know -- or, at least, we hope -- that there is something great about our existence.

So we end up making a tacit pact with ourselves: We will acknowledge that we are part of something bigger than us -- something that loves us, and assures our existence of a vector -- and in return, through our visceral relief that we are not specks, we shall feel our own majesty.

Now, I was raised in a faith -- communism -- that provided these very comforts. And while I don't mean to suggest that my own experience is identical to those of other believers -- devout Christians, Jews, Muslims -- what I am wondering (I guess) is whether I am hovering near some understanding of why so many people are voting in ways that I believe to be tragically self-destructive. Because in the process of easing my way out of strict adherence to my own faith, I have felt the pain of losing the beautiful bubble of belief that used to (or at least, so I thought) protect me from the vicissitudes of the world outside.

Whereas now, in middle age, with a family and friends whom I love and want to protect, I find myself placing my faith in the democratic experiment of the United States -- the experiment that beckoned to my grandparents and greatgrandparents from their miserable shtetls in old Europe. And I worry that this experiment is in danger of failing because (perhaps) the empowering (and comforting) role of citizenship is being replaced, for many, by their religious beliefs.

And in my Pollyannaish way, I wonder how Americans of all faiths -- and all political predilections -- might be persuaded to enter a dialogue about how the current generations might rededicate themselves to that experiment.

The Tax War At Home

I wrote in a recent entry how voters in my city, Berkeley, approved Measure B on our local ballot. This special tax initiative will help to fund our public schools over the next two years. Which is great, of course.

What's not so great is that all the other tax initiatives on the Berkeley ballot failed. All of them. These measures -- J, K, L, and M -- would have funded youth programs, libraries, police, fire, and other services. And indeed, leading up to Election Day, in my neighborhood you could see lots of Measure B lawn signs, and a few signs for J, K, L, and M -- but also there were a notable number of signs that said, "BASTA!" and advocated voting yes on B but no on the others. Clearly, the "BASTAs" got their wish.

In our local paper, the Berkeley Daily Planet, there were two analyses of this outcome. One, by Berkeley resident Nancy Feinstein, is a cri de coeur against the selfishness evidenced by Berkeleyites' refusal to pony up the tax dollars for these worthy public causes. She finds this attitude particularly hard to stomach in a supposed bastion of liberalness:

Shame on those of us who have voted down raising our taxes to support city services. ... In this moment of history, with Bush and the Republicans pushing the public to believe that the problems we are experiencing are caused by government and will be alleviated if we cut taxes, what does it mean that we, in Berkeley, find people in our midst making the same arguments? And what does it mean that we, in Berkeley, supported those voices? In the wake of the tax cuts many of us have received from the Republican-controlled congress, their unfunded mandates and cuts to all kinds of human services, what does it mean that we feel that we cannot raise our local taxes?

My strong inclination is to share Feinstein's indignation. But I was also intrigued by a nuanced editorial by Daily Planet Executive Editor Becky O'Malley, which noted that Measure B was the only initiative with fervent, grassroots support:

[T]here was precious little rank-and-file voter support for the [non-B] city taxes. Employee unions and developers by and large funded the pro-tax campaigns, and taxpayer groups funded the anti-tax position (at a much lower level). The Antis also wrote lots and lots of letters and commentaries. Like the pro-B parents, they were not shy about insisting that they got their share of space in the opinion pages. From the Pro-city-tax side, we got a letter signed by the mayor, and perhaps a few more, but no outpouring of citizen sentiment, no anguished calls.

O'Malley goes on to suggest that anti-tax sentiment here in Berkeley has much in common with the national anti-tax movement: it is rooted in voters' visceral sense that the government is not truly theirs, and that their tax money is not being spent efficiently. For example:

[One] issue which brought many moderates and progressives together was a shared perception that the city’s planning department is out of control, dominated by pro-growth ideologues who have no interest in citizen control of the agenda. Every group had its horror stories. Progressives in general acknowledge the need for additional low-cost housing in Berkeley, which many moderates do not, but members of both groups have good communication and shared outrage at the way densification in the form of big ugly boxes for market-rate renters is being promoted by city staff with a “neighbors be damned” attitude. It’s possible to argue, and we did, that voting no on tax measures is not the way to solve the problem, but it was hard to think of an alternative to recommend.

It strikes me that, sitting here in my apartment on the edge of America, I could have a better sense of how to promote pro-tax attitudes nationally if I began to get a grip on what's happening in my adopted hometown. So I'm going to try to talk to some people in Berkeley about these issues, and then report back to you.

Mixed Feelings

I'm not sure how I feel about a very interesting blog entry by Matthew Yglesias that I have just read (via Atrios). Yglesias is addressing how he thinks the Democrats should attack Bush's proposed "tax reforms." Here's the key paragraph:

The Democrats need to do what they can to take advantage of their status as a marginalized opposition party. They need to make the Republicans own the IRS, the tax code, and everything else about the government that's hateful or inefficient. It is, after all, the Republicans' government and the Republicans' tax code. While Bush is dragging his feet, appointing commissions, and trying to outsource the work to them, Democrats need to produce their own tax reform plan -- a plan that, since it has no chance of being implemented, can afford to be utopian and not get mucked up by business interests or other petty realities of actual governance -- and flog it mercilessly. The Republicans have all the power, so the Democrats must make them the party of government, and make themselves the party of reform. There are plenty of liberal economists around Washington and in academia who are more than capable of devising a reasonable, progressive tax reform plan much more quickly than the GOP is willing or able to move.

On the one hand, I am sickened by the notion expressed here that we in the "opposition" ought to accept that the Tax Code and the I.R.S. now belong to -- and are solely the responsibility of -- the Republicans. Even with my very limited understanding of how the tax system works, I feel I am on solid ground when I say that many aspects of the Tax Code and the I.R.S. currently do good for all Americans -- by collecting, in a relatively fair manner, a portion of our own money and investing it in things we all need (schools, roads, etc.). Now, of course, there are many provisions in the Code that are tilted unforgivably towards the rich, and those need to be changed. Those provisions were written to enforce the tax laws enacted by Congress -- and, true, until we have public financing of our elections, I believe we will continue to see this gross unfairness in our tax laws (among other laws), under Republicans and (god willing, one day) Democrats. ... And as for the I.R.S., the vast majority of the people I've met who work there (or have worked there in the past) are passionate about the importance of fairness in taxation.

On the other hand, where I get excited by Yglesias's comments is in the notion that this is, indeed, the perfect time for all the wonderful and brilliant tax minds among the Democrats (and Republicans) to put forward clear, bold proposals for true tax reform: making compliance more simple, especially for us laypeople (as opposed to Bush's use of "simplification," as a euphemism for removing progressivity from our tax system and for shifting the tax burden from the wealthy onto wage-earners); finding a workable level of progressivity (so that, as is fair, the wealthy do pay more than the unrich, but not of course so much that this burden becomes truly onerous); and -- this is so important! -- leading a national dialogue about what a majority of Americans agree to be essential in our public life, and then figuring out how much money that will cost (so that we begin our discussion of taxation knowing how much we need to raise).

I realize that I may be misreading Yglesias here -- that I may be projecting my own concerns onto the valid points he is making. But I shudder to hear progressives disavow our tax system -- with all its faults -- as "theirs," not "ours."

Am I off-base here? What do you think?

Have Faith

I'm just getting around to mentioning a story that struck me earlier this year. From Catholic News, it's a report on how the Catholic Church in England and Wales has identified tax-paying as an important moral obligation for its members.

Former Bishop Howard Tripp, chairman of the Church's Committee for Public Life, is quoted as saying: "Taxes are very much based on the principles of solidarity, which is based on the commandment to love your neighbor." (Though of course, being British, he spelled that last word "neighbour.")

I totally agree with him -- a confluence of beliefs that I find rather comforting during this time (at least in America) when we are told that millions of religious folks who treasure "moral values" felt compelled to re-elect a president who seems to hate taxes. (At least, he seems to hate them when they apply to the very wealthy -- and he seems unconcerned about how the resulting lack of funds are devastating his country.)

Is it possible that people of various beliefs might be persuaded to join with those British Catholics and embrace the moral value of paying our taxes? I live in hope, as always.

Reframing the Tax Debate

If you have a moment, check out this wonderful (and pithy) article from the Rockridge Institute on how progressives need to fight the important battle of reframing the very terms Americans use to talk about taxes. Here's a passage about how the anti-right zealots have masterfully insinuated the term "tax relief" into the public consciousness:

The phrase tax relief evokes a frame, and the choice of this phrase (instead of tax cuts or tax reduction, for example) is no accident — Conservatives know what they are doing with this use of language. When we hear the word relief, we immediately know that in the situation there is an affliction or burden, a victim of the affliction, and someone who helps us by relieving the affliction.

Without relief, there is continued suffering. Since no one wants suffering, we see anyone who interferes with the relief as a “bad guy” -- as someone who must be defeated. This in turn sets up the reliever as a kind of hero. Every time the phrase tax relief is heard or read by millions of people, the more this view, which sets up taxation as an affliction and conservatives as heroes, gets reinforced.

Once citizens, influenced by media, accept tax relief as the right words to use when discussing taxes, it becomes almost impossible to see why taxes sometimes should go up instead of down, or to point out who is not paying their fair share.

Fascinating stuff.

By the way, I learned of the Rockridge Institute when, while strolling around Berkeley, I ran into one of its founders, linguistics professor George Lakoff. Just another instance of how blessed I am to be a non-driver!

On the Bright Side ...

Here in Berkeley, we passed Measure B, a special tax initiative that will raise $8.3 million over each of the the next two years to support our city's public schools. The money will go toward reducing class sizes, staffing school libraries and music programs, and supplementing teacher training, program evaluation, and parent outreach.

The measure needed a two-thirds majority to win -- and it received 71.5 percent of the vote. For weeks, I have watched my neighbor Theodora ("Tede") Crawford -- a great person and a wonderful grandma -- run around with "Measure B" lawn signs and literature. She and the many other volunteers put in tons of work and time to persuade their neighbors that protecting our public schools was worth raising taxes a bit. Thanks to them, and to the voters, the children of Berkeley know today that they live in a place where the citizens truly value their right to an excellent public education.