Friday, December 15, 2006

Cynicism, or why Vietnam and Iraq breed mistrust in Washington

I was working with my speech team, today, exhausted from the stress and pressure of the last few months and the last week, in particular.

And it occurred to me in the middle of it all why young people in the 60's carried the mantra: "Don't trust anyone over 30."

I have very few heroes at all, these days. The ones I have are academics and people with serious forethought and even those are few and far between.

I love and respect everyone who contributes to my and our general welfare. But heroes, people who have significant forethought and insight on our most difficult problems, are just very hard to find, right now.

They are definitely not found in the print or television press, who I think, along with a lot of cynical political leaders, are largely responsible for the cynical, highly aggressive, pressure-based bullying that is the cyncial subsitution for thoughtful policy that dominates the current political period and larger popular and general culture.

There are many scholars who I respect, but the calloused disregard for thought and engagement and persuasion and other more democratic forms of discourse amongst even many of these scholars looking to bully their way through difficult international and domestic policy matters is very discouraging, to say the least.

Politicians are often the worst of both worlds: mindless and self-righteous pontification combined with power way out of proportion with their wisdom to use it.

Money and power and leverage and pressure and all sorts of cynical means of getting one's way dominate the culture and the politics, right now, in ways that should inspire noone and certainly cannot possibly reflect a better society, since it offers up milder versions of all of the worst features of our uglier, less free, less thoughtful and enlightened, more forceful and barbaric past.

And there are so many people on this foolish and ugly bandwagon of all sorts and of all education levels that it is just very difficult to find heroes amidst all of this low-minded bullying.

And it occurred to me, tonight, that this must be why young people lost faith in their leaders during the Vietnam war era, the civil rights movement, and during a similarly tumultuous era in the 1960's and 70's.

When young people have nothing to look up to in the culture and in political institutions because their leaders are so clearly rationalizing their own ugliest and most power-hungry and aggressive impulses, there is far too much darkness in all of that to find inspiration or idealism. And cynicism breeds mistrust, both existentially, because it preaches mistrust, and substantially, by breeding fear with force and pressure that divides and polarizes people rather than inspiring and teaching and committing and challenging and uplifting them, as more idealistic and accomplished eras create.

Noone could have possibly been inspired by a John F. Kennedy asking Americans to ask not what their country could do for them but what they were going to do for their country whether they fuckin' liked it or because he planned on forcing their hand to do so whether they thought it was a good idea or not. Ronald Reagan could not have possibly inspired a resilience in the face of the Soviet threat and a commitment to ending Communism with promises of rooting out red-leaning liberals and conservatives soft on the Communist peril and pressuring them to give up their Commie buddies. Franklin Roosevelt could not have possibly faced the Nazi threat without a willingness to persuade Americans to face that threat squarely rather than forcing them to enjoin against the Germans and the Japanese whether they were ready for such a commitment of military force or not.

The clear truth of the 20th century, more than any other, is that force as a governing philosophy is bankrupt, dangerous, and anti-democratic. Even within the context of a democracy, force as a governing philosophy is a serious compromise of the strongest democratic principles of thoughtful engagement which respects differences rather than seeking to trample over or bully those we disagree with.

And contemporary Washington, like Washington in the late 60's and early 70's, in particular, is awash in the cynicism that the compromise doesn't matter as long as the prevailing party gets its way and pressures everyone else to go along with their vision, whether it's been sufficiently explored and debated and engaged and whether it respect peoples' freedoms -- in particular, their freedom to disagree -- or not.

In 1998, I spent one of the most idealistic summers of my life in Washington, D.C., in love with a girl, and in love with a mutual commitment to improve the world.

In 2006, there is no way I could spend a comparable period in Washington, D.C. Because it is awash in cynicism and bullying, pressure-tactics and leveraging, power-hunger and the accompanying cynicism about the capacity to engage and understand and appreciate the perspectives of others we might disagree with. And to genuinely respect their differences, and to engage them without force, except in those more rare occassions when our immediate physical safety is in clear danger.

As with many young people in the 60's, I can understand why young people would not trust anyone over 30 (including myself; I'm 33). Because it's a cynical lot. And it is an especially cynical lot during a cynical political period when the ugliest visions of humanity are rationalized and rationalize our basest impulses and reactions.

It makes me sad, mostly.

Because what we need -- what young people need, what we all need -- is people we can believe in, far more than people who don't believe in themselves or, as is often the case, believe in themselves too much and one another stong-arming their way through the cynical life that they have chosen.

I will say this. No matter what excuses people give for cynicism and force as a governing philosophy, it most certainly is a choice in outlook. There are other choices.

An ideal world, I think most people would agree, is one where free people work together freely to solve their problems together and independently. Progress is judged by our capacity to fulfill that ideal, more or less.

And to the extent that we compromise that ideal with a commitment to a governing philosophy based primarily on force, which is mutually exclusive with that ideal, rather than a vision of freedom and force only when necessary, and then the least possible force necessary being the operating principle for our use of aggression, we engage in a more permanent and fundamental compromise of our liberal democracy in a way that cannot possibly fulfill its our our ideals or potential.

And that would explain why it is so difficult to find heroes in Washington and Washington discussions, these days.

Because so few people, these days, believe in the ideals that make that democratic discussion worthy of our trust.

Love,
Ben

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Under Pressure

I am seriously thinking about playing the classic Queen/David Bowie collaboration every day in the background at Eisenhower as teachers and administrators and students deal with the new pressures being brought to bear by the No Child Left Behind Act.

My whole team just watched one of our math/science teachers, who is one tough cookie, cry in the middle of our content meeting, dealing with all of the stress and pressure of Annual Yearly Progress. Morale is paradoxically low and the teachers are rallying together. Administrators are simultaneously under pressure to put the screws to teachers and are lightening up, much more immediately aware that the stress is too much for everyone.

And all I know is that the friends of force have made a lot of enemies at my school, where teachers are simultaneously trying to meet the law's demands and resenting the shit out of everyone responsible for this stupid law and its cheerleaders.

And the bigger lesson for me is that people can claim credit all they want for their more forceful themes, but the people they've been abusing are very unlikely to give them credit. Or anyone else for that matter. You can pretend like you've been more responsible for a result than you really have, but the in the end, everyone who knows better will know what a shithead you were for making their jobs harder rather than helping them be more effective.

The funny thing to me is that the policy scholars and makers who debate NCLB can debate it like it's a real debate all they want. Teachers, on the other hand, are almost universally opposed to it. And you can only ignore the people implementing your bidding for a time until it just becomes perfectly clear to everyone that the Emperor is wearing no clothes.

Lots of people in Washington with lots of good intentions, marching everyone down a road to hell.

The most serious consequence of this foolhardy political period: less power in Washington, domestically and internationally.

The heydey of Washington D.C. as the center of power in the world, as Robert Samuelson wrote today in the Washington Post, will soon be behind us, I think.

But whereas Robert seems to lament the passing of Pax Americana, I am thinking, "It's about fuckin' time."

The truth is that is that is not just American power and Washington power that it waning. It is centralized power of all sorts. Old and wrong-headed legacies just die hard. But they die nonetheless.

And the reason why so many Washington insiders fail to see it or lament it's passing is that they aspired to get a piece of the action. But it is action that is losing its real capacity to effect change. And that is the only power that is really worth anything.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Happy Hanukah, even to Michael Medved, who is officially a fundamentalist nutjob

I don't think I've ever read a creepier Hanukah wish.

The Real Hanukah: A Celebration of the Religious Right

Michael Medved essentially uses Hanukah to make an argument for sectarian Judaism. Meaning he coopts a profoundly meaningful religious holiday for most Jews and for people like me who have a profound respect and appreciation for the Judaism and tries to argue that it means that all those people who celebrate Hanukah but who disagree with Michael are wicked.

I'm not exaggerating here. That's what he says.

If you celebrate Hanukah but disagree with me about what Judaism or Hanukah means, you are wicked and celebrating wickedness, is the clear and essential message of this column.

Creepy, huh?

Michael Medved is quickly becoming the Jerry Falwell and Osama Bin Laden of Judaism.

For all of those who are or are not familiar with the Hanukah story and the profoundly meaningful role that it plays in the history of Judaism and the history of religious freedom, as Jews threw off their Syrian-Green oppressors, you might check out

Chabad.org

Ba-ruch A-tah Ado-nai E-lo-he-nu Me-lech Ha-olam A-sher Ki-de-sha-nu Be-mitz-vo-tav Ve-tzi-va-nu Le-had-lik Ner Cha-nu-kah.

Happy Hanukah, everyone:).

Love,
Ben

Federal regulation means noone has to take responsibility

We just had another math meeting today.

And I have to say that I am convinced that Federal regulation means that noone has to ever take responsibility.

We have mandates on performance on state assessments built into the No Child Left Behind Act that come from the Feds. All of the district energy is spent pleasing the feds. All of the school energy is spent pleasing the district, and the feds.

The problem is that the feds have no intimate involvement in the situation at all. So when teachers say, "I don't think getting this particular thing done is realistic," or "we can't possibly do several of these goals all at once within this limited time frame," noone is around to listen. Because everyone is just trying to please the feds. And the feds are 2000 miles away.

So when the feds live with the illusion that they can force the kids to perform better than they will or can (at this particular moment) -- which they don't have to come to terms with in the same way teachers do because they don't have to work with the kids every day -- there's no reality check for them. They're just passing legislation under the very complex and highly pressurized environment of Washington politics.

And at the end of the day, noone has to be responsible.

Blame games ensue. Noone is responsible. People are threatened and pushed and cajoled. Noone is responsible. People are fired. Noone is responsible. People are unelected. Noone is responsible.
It's very much like the Iraq War. People keeping saying the same dumb repeated theme. Put the screws to people and they'll do what you want. Even if it doesn't work. And even if it is counterproductive. And even if it isn't sensitive to actual capacity. Even if it ignores all of the real and important people and logistical variables that are necessary to get the work done.

Noone is responsible.

It's the total irony of the situation and reflects the degree to which our rhetoric overwhelms our reason. Good intentions persistently get confused and defended as the same as good results.

And noone is responsible.

You know what drives me most crazy? It's journalists and policy thinkers and academics and activists and politicians and a whole host of people who have no intimate knowledge or involvement in schools -- and in most institutions they regulate -- who create support for these mandates. And when it goes awry, noone is responsible.

It's so goddamn foolish.

So when we get to the end of this foolish goddamn political period where getting tough is confused with getting smart and communicating and engaging people and understanding their sitautions and listening and responding and being more generally responsive to their concerns and getting to resolution rather than always picking a fight and trying to force others to do our bidding...

My question is...

Who will take responsibility?

And you know what my bet is?

Noone.

Not until we all grow up a little bit and learn that responsibility comes from understanding and commitment, not from force. Force is something we have to use as little as possible on the road to building understanding and commitment. My very real and persistent experience is that those kids who are the least responsible are the ones whom have parents who use far more force than parents with kids who are better behaved.

And the supreme irony to me is that all of the toughest situations in the world, right now, demonstrate this principle far more effectively than the experiences of teachers with the No Child Left Behind Act, right now, but the tough people who are making recommendations around international affairs, right now, are just too stubborn to admit the failure of the principle.
I don't know why.

I just listened to Stephen Biddle from the Council on Foreign Affairs make recommendations on NPR last night around pressuring Iraqis in ways that their Prime Minister and popular opinion has consistently indicated was out of touch and, they and I think, arrogant and ignoring how overwhelming the responsibilities that were being imposed really were.

And I thought, "This is what Lord Acton meant."

What Lord Acton meant by power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely, I think -- or at least the way I see it playing out -- is that power can begin with all kinds of good intentions. But then people with power become convinced that their use of power was what was responsible for any of the good that happened in the world during their tenure or that their pressure or influence made it so. They develop a relationship with people based on creating enough fear to compel their will. And then they ignore the frustrations of those they compel out an arrogant belief that they could not possibly know what is good for themselves.

And often, in democratic societies, popular opinion leads to this kind of abuse of power. The current political situation arose out of an popular attitude that America and the world hadn't gotten tough enough about its problems, rather than smart enough or communicating more effectively or setting limits more effectively through greater efforts at creating understanding, when possible, and force only when necessary.

America should at least have the balls to do what Palestinians and North Koreans and Syrians and Cubans never seem to be able to do: to admit that its' our fault.

I can share some blame in that. I advocated the No Child Left Behind Act before it was enacted into law. I believed that good intentions would lead to good results before I understood the problems more thoroughly. I believed more, at one point, that you could force your way to progress. That's why I identified more, at one point in my life, as a more conventional liberal. I thought guns could be cleaned up with tough gun control and campaign finance could be cleaned up with tough campaign finance laws. I was wrong. In a big way. I'm totally clear about that, today. But I believed those things in good faith.

And the NCLB is very similar.

What's scary to me is what our society looks like with people not willing to take responsibility for the failure.

How long do we keep running with this failed policy before we give it up, I wonder?

How long do liberals continue to see the splinter in the eyes of the Administration and Republicans and conservatives on this one but ignore the big ass beam in their own eye around the same principles?

"We can't force democracy abroad, but we can force democratic outcomes at home," liberals seem to be saying, if they would square their rhetoric on this one.

But they haven't thought this one through enough to call this a thorough philosophy. It's not a philosophy, in the sense that liberals or conservatives have really thought through all of the consequences from this idea. It is a political slogan that is being confused with a more thoroughly developed idea.

And the scary part for me is when do we give it up?

How long does it have to fail before we begin to face its failures and limitations?

How long do we ignore the concerns of those being forced upon before we acknowledge the corrupting arrogance that power breeds?

Never, is what many policy thinkers and journalists and politicians and activists seem to be saying, right now.

If they complain, you just make clear that their lives will be made miserable if they do not comply.

It's policy made mafia-style.

And noone seems to be recognizing the logical conclusion of this road.

Which is exactly what made the Soviets and the Nazis so scary. Because their political heads and true followers and even not so true followers kept making clear that they had no intentions of ever letting up on force as the means of promoting their vision of progress. Ever. And if anyone had a problem with that, then they would face death or imprisonment or ostracism or many very bad things before that would ever change.

It definitely inspires fear. The question is, "Is is progress?" And, "Does it inspire progress?"

The real answer to both of those questions is clearly no to anyone who cares more about genuine progress and about freedom and democracy than about getting their way.

The truth is that there is an awful lot of people right now who are much more interested in getting their way than in principles like freedom and democracy and progress, because they're convinced that the stakes are too high for them to take high ideals too seriously.

Which means they'll sacrafice the things that really matter to get what they want right now. And when it comes to the highest stakes situations, no fear is too small to rationalize that ugly abuse of power.

And that is exactly what Lord Acton meant by that phrase.

That maximum power in the name of alleviating fear is an excuse that has no end, even as it often creates more fear and more danger than it actually alleviates.

Our great hope, right now, is the war in Iraq, where people can see more clearly that forcing our way to progress has clearly been counterproductive, no matter how you try to rationalize it otherwise.

The question is can we see that this is true almost entirely across the board when it comes to forcing our way to progress?

Things looked bleak to me in 2003 when we first initiated that invasion. So maybe we can get it right, at some point.

But the trick will be that to do so will mean that we cannot scapegoat President Bush or Don Rumsfeld or Dick Cheney or the Republican Party.

The trick is that the American people, or at least a substantial number of them, will have to look themselves in the mirror and say, "I created this mess. I asked for this. I demanded this. And they gave it to me. Because I demanded it. And I am responsible."

The trick on this one is that the people most responsible for the major policy messes that we are in will have to take responsibility for them.

And the people most responsible...are all of us.

Love,
Ben

The most important problem people face

I am probably guilty of this as much as anyone else.

But after dealing with the school and district politics over the last few months (and the last year), I think I'm beginning to see the problem with school politics:

So many people are just in the habit of fighting all the time.

People who don't learn to listen and engage and discuss and politely debate with one another toward practical resolution of issues end up fighting all the time -- openly or not-so-openly -- until those issues get resolved.

And most people just fight about the dumbest shit because they aren't committed to listening and understanding one another enough to get to resolution on important differences.

It just became clearer today after a meeting with a colleague.

I've got a meeting to get to.

Love,
Ben

Monday, December 11, 2006

An uncompromised liberal democracy and cynicism as a lens for policy

You know what bugs me most in policy discussions?

How cynicism gets used as this circular lens for policy questions without ever having to defend itself, or consider alternative perspectives.

Realism is an important feature of policy discussions. In fact, it is often what distinguishes policy discussions from other discussions. It is the most important reason that I am so committed to policy as a study.

But, far, far too often, realism, in politics and political discussions, gets confused with cynicism.

Cynicism is not realism. Cynicism is disappointment with a world that doesn't live up to your expectations. Meaning, cynicism is a twisted function of idealism. "I was once an idealist," the reasoning goes, "but then I discovered how the real world works." Hence the pretense of realism.

But it's bullshit. The reality that is being referred to, generally, in that disappointment, is one that is clearly ugly or dysfuntional or otherwise in need of change. Hence the purpose of idealism, to hold an ideal that points the way out of a cynical reality. "It's the whole point of idealism, morons" I so often want to yell at cynics. "You wouldn't need idealism if the world already lived up to all your expectations, geniuses. You'd just have an ideal world and everyone would be happy and gay."

The whole point of idealism, as a practical matter, is the belief and commitment that cynical realities can and will give way to better realities and better options to get us to those better realities. It's the whole fuckin' point, really. There'd be no reason for the discussion, otherwise, for goodness fuckin' sakes.

The whole thing infuriates the shit out of me because it's so goddamn obvious to anyone who is really committed to changing changeable realities for the better, rather than defending why they've given up. Quitting is not realism. Quitting is quitting. You want to be a fuckin' quitter and face the ugly realities of the world and say there's nothing you can do, then so be, I say. Just get the fuck out the way of people who are committed to changing changeable realities. And defining an ugly reality as unchangeable is the last refuge for cynics resisting important change or quitting in the face of difficult obstacles.

As someone who grew up a liberal most of my life, one of the things that I admire most about Ronald Reagan is that he didn't give up the important and idealistic notion that the Soviet Union and Communism were not inevitable parts of the human political experience. That Soviet Communism was an ugly betrayal of humanity's aspirations and that it could and would fall with committed leadership and vision that worked in that direction. His discussions with Mikhael Gorbachev and his sustaining of that vision and idealism had much to do with the efforts of East Germans and citizens and leaders of the Baltic Republics and Boris Yeltsin and others to finally bring about the end of Soviet Communism from within. And during a time when liberal and conservative academics confused cynicism about the reality of Soviet domination of so much of the globe as unchangeable, Reagan knew that it could and would change with enough commitment in that direction.

Mohammed Yunus is a player in wealth equity discussions who understands that the complexities of wealth equity do not necessitate the cynical acceptance of inequities that dominates in the world, today. His work with microenterprises in Bangladesh both address many of the complexities of poverty, ownership and responsibility, and wealth and development and offers real hope for people most seriously impacted by the cynical realities that dominate around wealth equity in the world, today. His microenterprise work demonstrates that market can address wealth equity issues. The question is not whether we can commit ourselves to equity, but will we.

As I listen to so many political discussions, today, where thought, discussion, and engagement are being overwhelmed by force and organized propaganda and manipulation of rules and institutions to substitute for such engagement in ways that it never will really substitute, I am perpetually in awe of the staying power of cynicism and force around serious policy issues.

Make the reality shitty enough, people seem to reason, and people will have no other choice but to accept the shitty reality. Or rationalize that a shitty reality is unchangeable, and noone need be responsible for changing the reality. Or maintain a self-righteous notion of the world or an issue, and you'll never have to engage those who disagree with you honestly and with a desire to understand them and their thinking. You can always just strong-arm them into submission. Who needs all that tedious thinking and discussion and understanding.

It's an ugly, ugly way to operate in a democracy. And it is not only the only logical conclusion from a force-based philosophy of democratic governance, but it is this advocacy-based power-jockeying that forms the basis for force being treated seriously as a philosophy rather than as the most significant alternative to ideas animating a democracy.

The Soviets and the Nazis reasoned this way. If you successfully force others to comply with your vision of the world, they will have no other choice but to accept your imposition.

Except resist it. Which is exactly what I plan to do, as reasonably as possible, for as long as it takes until this "philosophy" of democratic governance is effectively dissolved.

There is no other discussion in policy and on social questions that is so reinforcing than cynicism as the lens for important policy issues. I create and/or reinforce a cynical reality out of my cynical lens on the world and that cynical reality becomes the basis for my argument that no other reality can prevail but the cynical reality that I created and reinforced with my observations.

It is Heisenberg's principle with a vengeance -- both literally and figuratively -- around policy and social issues, and issues of humanity. In psychological circles it is called a self-fulfilling prophecy and a vicious cycle. The virtuous circle of liberal democratic values if found in free thought and engagement and expression and disagreement, not in strong-arming. But the nature of regressive historical periods like the one we are currently experiencing is that the vicious cycle takes hold, and repression is rationalized in the name of progress.

And it is ugly.

And that ugliness is due to beams in our own eyes, rather than to the natural inclination for humans to carry around splinters in their eyes or for them to need us to remove them for them.

We have a much better legacy to offer our children, if we embrace it. A legacy that takes thought and engagement and understanding and deep reflection and wisdom as well as specialized and experienced knowledge seriously. A legacy that prefers argument to force and constructive engagement to strong-arming.

This political period more than most must leave many young people considering a university education asking themselves, "Why?"

"If force is more important and effective than education, engagement, understanding, and reflection, why would I or anyone else need an education (except perhaps to get the credentials necessary to force my thinking on others)?"

It's a really good question, actually.

The truth is that force and freedom are mutually exclusive. Force may be necessary, at times. But force as a philosophy naturally begs the question, "Why is a liberal education so important, then?"

If liberalism, in this sense, refers to free thought and engagement, why would an education that prefers these values be necessary in the world that not only operates primarily by force but is rationalized and actively supported and given intellectual heft by so many of its liberally educated thinkers and political actors?

And the cynical embrace of that reality must leave many others to wonder, "Then why were Communism and Fascism evil, if they were only more strident versions of our own force-based governance?"

Good question, would be my response. Assuming that someone with that question pursues a liberal education, at all, given the low value that so many liberal thinkers put on the values of free thought, engagement, expression, and conscience that animate that kind of education, but which naturally conflict with the governing philosophy of force that animates international policy and politics during this political moment.

The truth is that most liberal thinkers don't trust liberal values. Not fully. And certainly not more than they trust their own capacity to enforce their own more powerful wisdom.

It is the saddest realization by a young scholar more committed to the values of a liberal education than probably any of the values I hold in my life. To find out that so many, if not the great majority, of liberal thinkers that helped reinforce those values for me, as it turns out, do not really believe in those values, except when it conforms with their own enforced wisdom.

What I know is that such a compromise of the values of a liberal democracy and the liberal education that supports that democracy should be recognized for what it is: a compromise. It is not the full realization of those values. And the full realization of those values is by taking the freedom that is inherent in those values and the potential for genuine self-governance, self-determination, and self-actualization found in those values will only be found with more freedom, rather than less.

I have no interest in leaving a compromised legacy of liberal democracy and liberal democratic values for my children and calling it a fulfillment of those values that it is not, any more than I would want an American Constitution that reinforces the institution of slavery to be treated as more than the compromise that it was simply to alay the insecurities of its drafters that their compromise was consistent with their highest ideals.

We may choose a compromise of liberal democracy during this political period or even for a substantial period after this political moment. But like slavery, force as a governing philosophy will always be a serious compromise of liberal democratic values. And those values will never be fully realized until it is abandoned, except in situations where the least possible aggression is needed because immediate physical danger is otherwise unavoidable.

In a million years I would rather be the person who pointed to freedom in the face of slavery and oppression than the cynic who argued that slavery was the only alternative because freedom was too dangerous.

Freedom is fraught with risk and fear of the other side of that risk. But, more importantly, it brings opportunities. Specifically, the opportunity for a more genuinely self-governing liberal democracy. And that vision for liberal democracy is the only vision that more fully realizes liberal democratic values. Everything else is compromise.

There is only one vision for a liberal democracy that offers us the opportunity to fully realize our potential. And that is a liberal democracy that offers us the most freedom possible and with a government that is more fully engaging in those liberal democratic values rather than more forceful in its imposition of any particular idea.

Everything else is cynicism and compromise. And a short-sighted vision of what liberal democracies and liberal democratic citizens have to offer.

As a matter of democratic principle, I will accept compromises forced upon me. But much stronger than the principle of compromise is the principle of freedom and engagement and understanding and thought and expression and disagreement that underpins liberal democratic thinking.

Everything else is cynicism and compromise masquerading as the real deal.

Love,
Ben

Jesus is magic

If you have not seen Sarah Silverman's Jesus is Magic, yet, I highly recommend it. It is a little over an hour of hilarious and very politically incorrect fun, with footage in the bonus feature of Sarah's performance for a similar movie, The Aristocrats.

Together, Jesus is Magic and The Aristocrats are a very refreshing break from the strangle-hold of political correctness that has taken hold during this political period.

Silverman holds nothing back, breaking every major comedy taboo in the book. She does ethnic jokes, holocaust and Jewish jokes (Silverman is Jewish), outrageous porn and sexual humor, she makes fun of old people and young people and she does so in the most disgusting, politically-incorrect ways possible. It's a really nice departure from a political period run amok with self-righteousness and bullying to prevent offense or insensitivity (I've always found bullying on behalf of sensitivity a fairly peculiar combination of political strategy and purpose).

It was a great time for Melissa and Devang and I (and Melissa and I, in particular, who share a rather disgusting and very politically incorrect sense of humor).

What so many bullies and hypersensitive babies who have and seek power in the world right now need is someone to make fun of them. And Sarah delivers powerfully.

Enjoy.

Ben

Friday, December 08, 2006

The lingering consequence of force: mistrust

Today, as much of the arm-twisting that I have faced, recently, I am faced with the lingering consequence of force: mistrust.

The truth is, no matter how much I would want to see things differently, I don't trust people who have pressured and forced my hand.

It will take time for me to forgive and let go of the emotional consequences of all of the bullying people have been engaged in. And always will.

Getting your way always comes with a cost. As they say in What Dreams May Come, sometimes when you win, you lose.

There's a lot of folks in the world, these days, who I don't trust and/or trust less after this period. That list will grow as long as the popularity of force persists.

And the saddest consequence is that it will all be for naught. Because it fundamentally disrespects peoples' need for freedom of thought and conscience. Which means they will rebel and fight it. And we will only be better for the experience if we learn the lesson for good.

Love,
Ben

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

What it means to be committed

I had an interview, today. It was with a more affluent suburban district.

Lots of things I liked. Generally more motivated kids and parents. Fewer excuses. Better funding, which translates into more teachers and collaborative coverage (meaning special education and general education teachers in every classroom). A lot of coordination to resolve a lot of the problems that our teams persistently struggle with. A lot more proactive, supportive, and engaged staff resolving more problems and bitching about them less.

That last part -- a committed staff -- is the most attractive quality to me. My major problem at Eisenhower is not the kids or the pay. It is the overwhelming idea of overcoming the resistance of an entire staff and student population to let go of the excuses and to take seriously the idea that if we are going to get strong we are going to have to face our weaknesses honestly. We are going to have to face our faults, as teachers and students and parents and as a community -- including me -- more openly and honestly and readily if we are going to be competitive. And my goal at Eisenhower is to make us competitive. To be the best school possible. And, if possible, to the best middle school in the city, in the state, in the nation, in any nation in the world.

Inner city doesn't mean disabled. And that is the myth I am looking to sever. Inner city means a lot of inertia in terms of helplessness and giving up and finding excuses and a million other reasons why we do not achieve at the highest levels.

My goal, my job, is to remove those excuses, from myself as much as from the students and colleagues and the families that make up our community.

It is an overwhelming task, right now.

But after my interview, today, I am doubly determined to make it happen. Because it is why I got into this work.

And I am beginning to recognize that being a leader sometimes means that people depend on you to get the job done, whether you like it or not. Even as and if your job is to empower them, more, to do excel at the job on their own.

My job is to take a school which has been successful, has recently experienced some failure and disappointment, and to turn it into the strongest school I absolutely can (and to stretch far beyond my own immediate capabilities to do so).

And I decided, today, that I am up to that challenge.

Jaime Escalante was a great teacher. But my job is to take his idea -- that all students could succeed at the highest levels -- and make it true for all children, disability label or not.

Full inclusion does not just mean that everyone is involved. Full inclusion means that every student, as much as is realistically possible, is achieving at the highest levels, whether we or they anticipated that for themselves or not.

My larger goals is a school full of Ph.D.'s and generally brilliant, creative, talented, courageous, and extraordinarily achieving folks. I will have to accept less as long as people do not make the choices that make this goal a reality. But we will raise everyone's sights by setting and working powerfully and realistically towards the goal.

But I will never settle for less in my heart until that goal is achieved. For any kid, person, or any school I work with.

Love,
Ben

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Freedom and love

By the way.

It's completely clear to me, at this point, that all of my success, all of my learning, all of my commitment, all of my drive is due to two things in my life:

The amount of freedom I have and that I'm able to generate in my life.

And the amount of love that I have and that I'm able to generate in my life.

No ifs, ands or buts.

Freedom and love. Those are the essences of all things good, and thoughtful, and decent in this world. Period.

Love,
Ben

Fire in the belly

After a PTA meeting, tonight, about how 8th grade students can pass our new 8th grade math benchmarks and the enthusiasm that parents were catching about the need to have them reach high, it is beginning to occur to me what it is that I have that is so different from most people (and most teachers) I meet:

Fire in the belly.

I am one driven s'um bitch.

I used to see it in the grimaces that people got when I opened my mouth or when I had something idealistic to say.

Now I see it as they are starting to soften up and and let go of their defenses and resistance.

I have been dealing with defenses. And the last 2 weeks or so, I've been watching people let them go.

And now I understand what is different about my commitment.

I heard it as I was talking, today, about getting kids to success.

I am one driven s'um bitch. I got fire in the belly in a serious fuckin' way. There is no holding me back. And the more people soften up and the less defensive they are, the more driven I get. And the more driven I get, the more they soften up and get excited, again, about achieving big things.

Maslow has a famous quotation about why it is that babies start out so loving and cheerful and then the same people end up on subways 20, 30, 40 years later, beaten down.

The answer, I think, is that we make life too tough for people to succeed. And that life is just really fuckin' tough until we figure out how to make it easier.

And that what people need to catch fire in the belly, to get wrapped up in that enthusiasm, to maintain their idealism, to uncover their passion for life:

Is too care that fuckin' much about making it happen.

And I care that fuckin' much about making it happen.

I got fire in the belly, in a serious way. And it's not for this election cycle. And it's not for money. And it's not for recognition, because even that I could do without. It's not for anything tangible (though there are always implicit promises of all of these things in my future).

My fire comes from the fact that I really do care that fuckin' much about making it happen.

And it is fire that I have maintained far longer than most people. And fire that I will maintain far longer than most people.

Because I really fuckin' care that fuckin' much.

That kind of fire comes from caring. And from being cared about. And, consequently, from caring.

It is a passion that burns bright when we love what we are here to do in life more than we love anything else.

And I am here to make this world as stellar a fuckin' place to live by the time that I am done as I possibly fuckin' can, in my all too short a lifetime.

Life is a lot of FUBAR (Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition). And the only way to love it despite all of the FUBAR is to care about making it right more than anything fuckin' else in the world.

And I got that fire in my belly.

And that is how we are going to get that much closer to a world of genuine peace and decency and humanity by the time I am spent all my time here and pass that torch on to someone else. Because we care that much. And, hopefully, I can inspire a few kids and adults and friends and family members to care that much too.

I have two kids on my debate team that are getting ready to win some tournaments and who are getting the fire.

And that's where it starts.

When people care enough to get it done.

Love,
Ben

Knowing your own shit stinks

I have lesson plans and grading to do.

But I wanted to write for a moment on the nature of humility.

As a young adult, I've come to learn that humility is a quality that you don't come by abstractly. People who have humility for real get it by screwing up, by being arrogant and having to face themselves and their limitations.

Humility is not some notch in the belt of perfection. That's called pride. It's the opposite of humility, actually.

Real humility and real virtue and decency, from that, comes from knowing that your shit stinks. Because you've fucked up and you've faced up.

The older I get, the more important I realize it is to spend as much time as possible with this kind of decency and real humility. The older I get, the more I realize it's probably more important than other virtues, if for no other reason that it means dealing with someone who knows their own and others' limitations and their more prone to accept you for yours' as much as always trying to improve you.

That's probably the reason why I am closer with the my dad's family than with the my mom's family, as much as I am becoming closer with my mom's family, lately.

You just have people in your life that you can trust more that when when your shit is stinking that they will love you for it and despite it and not hold it against you.

And generally, the people with this kind of real humility and virtue come by it because they know their own shit stinks. And so they're not trying to prove to you and everyone else just how righteous and virtuous they are all the time.

Fucking up, paradoxically and counterintuitively, I think, can actually make us better people, I think. It means exploring our limits and figuring out our weaknesses and limitations as a human being. And it leads us to accept better the weaknesses and limitations of others, as well.

And I want to spend the bulk of my life with people who know their shit stinks. And more importantly I want to spend my life with a woman who knows her shit stinks and doesn't have to constantly prove to me or to herself otherwise.

Love,
Ben

Monday, December 04, 2006

The superior moral virtue of pressure politics

If I have to listen to one more NPR report touting the virtue of left-wing pressure politics, I think I'm going to vomit.

"Oh, look at how awful the world would be without me forcing the world to be good," I have to listen to a million liberal journalists on NPR tout every day.

"If it weren't for my superior virtue," I have to listen to liberals sounding like Pat Robertson or Jerry Falwell, "the world would never be such a good place."

Makes me want to vomit. Not least of which because it's bullshit.

I swear to God that every liberal journalist in the country, right now, thinks that they uniquely are responsible for every good thing this earth has to offer, so self-centered are they in their "superior virtue." There is no virtue outside of liberal pressure politics reason these radicals in sheep's clothing. "If it weren't for us," these liberals reason, "the world would be a cesspool of non-liberal virtue."

Makes me want to spit my guts up.

I appreciate liberals pressuring me to be politically correct as much as I appreciate conservatives pressuring me to morally upright.

What's disgusting about both camps is the self-righteousness of it all. There is noone virtuous outside of our camp, our group, our ideology, our activism. There is noone virtuous outside of us.

Noone has a right to my mind or my labor or my conscience. Fuck you. And on the stuff that matters, I will kick the living shit out of your piss-poor fuckin' expectations, liberals and conservatives.

Pox on both their houses, I say.

Being liberal used mean something to me. Now what it means is being a bully for pick your left-wing cause. And I want nothing to do with that ugliness.

Real progress doesn't come out of bullying.

Real progress comes from changing hearts and minds, as a real liberal, Martin Luther King, argued 40 years ago.

A million liberals think that they have somehow outthunk Dr. King. He was assassinated because he was such a pussy, these arrogant, self-righteous radicals reason. Dr. King just wasn't willing to kick enough ass, these nasty, narrow-minded little activists argue. He just didn't understand the power of Malcolm X's hate and spite and racism.

Love and thought and debate and engagement are all good and all of that, they reason. But really what we need is someone like Hugo Chavez or Noam Chomsky or Charlie Rangel to really kick some serious conservative ass.

The whole thing makes me want to vomit.

And definitely convinces me that I don't want to be a part of that gang anymore then I want to be a Blood or a Crip.

This is why liberals gain so little traction in the culture. Because so many liberals really don't respect that people disagree with them. Disagree with us all you want, reason so many liberals these days. But you're gonna do what the fuck we say.

And I say, "Fuck you, you fuckin' bullies."

And fuck everyone who reasons this way with no respect for my freedom and my conscience.

Love,
Ben

I need a partner

I've got a ton of work to do. I want to do it. And I'm feeling unmotivated. I need a partner in my life.

I guess what I'm wanting is someone to share my passion for my work with. Absent that, I just don't feel as motivated.

In the past, I've had coaches and teammates and friends and girlfriends and occassionally family.

Most people don't share my passion. For education. For politics. For people. For life.

And I just want someone to share it with me and to help me sustain it.

Maybe the passion of my red hot youth has passed from my life and now I'm entering a period of patient moderation, even in the passion I have for my work.

But I have to say that when I have kids and teachers and people committed, even in part, to ideals around education or politics or whatnot, that I feel far more committed than when I am on my own.

I like having a team. And I like best being around people who are highly committed to doing their best.

Things have gotten much better around Eisenhower since we got back from Thanksgiving Break. People seem to much more genuinely want to be here and to want to build relationships with kids and one another to do a good job. Which is great, because it's exactly what we need.

I will learn what I need to learn over the long haul if I take a more patient route.

But I would love to have the passion I feel when I have a team of people supporting me or when I have a girlfriend who shares my passion for life or when I'm in a room of kids and I'm feeling committed to brighter futures for them, even if they are only lackluster in their commitment.

It does feel lame feeling unmotivated for lack of support/commitment from others around me. But it's also been a reality of life for me that I've had a hard time escaping. I've always been more motivated than a lot of folks I work with, but I also feel much more motivated the more I am around people who want to do well, who like being good at what they do, who like to win, who take achievement and success seriously, even if it is not the end-all of life.

It is a really nice feeling to be around people who are committed to success and a great quality of life, no matter where they find themselves at. And it is a feeling that it easier to nurture the more we nurture it in one another as well as in ourselves.

Somehow, I've got to find that kind of partnership and support for my passion. I watched my Principal getting really heated with kids today in the lunchroom because they couldn't be quiet when they were asked and it was electrifying to see someone else care that much about this job.

And that's what I need in my life. Others in my life who care that much about this work and this life. So my life doesn't always feel like such an uphill climb.

Love,
Ben

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Robert F. Kennedy's Statement on Dr. King's Death - Montage


Where our truer ideals lie.

Love,
Ben

Idealism and the Iraq War

Dana Milbank has an excellent and honest article in the Washington Post, today, that I think deserves an honest discussion.

One War, No Answers

I've actually seen excellent discussions about security and political matters in Iraq by folks like Frederick Kagan, Elliot Cohen, Jeremy Greenstock, Joe Nye, and a whole lot of folks.

But I have to say that what's becoming clearer to me is that what those discussions have in common that the current discussion about the situation in Iraq lacks is a sincere commitment and belief in the possibility of a free, equitable, democratic Iraq where democratic principles are taken seriously and animate the imagination of the Iraqi people, even as government policies may or may not fulfill those ideals.

It is becoming clearer to me that that what America is most in need of, right now, is not more power to control events in Iraq or the world.What America needs, right now, is some serious soul searching.

America is dealing with a crisis of confidence in its own ideals. And force is a popular if shortlived substitute that those who lack faith in those ideals are romanticizing right now in absence of that kind of soul searching. Force is a substitute for ideals in the same way that drugs are a substitute for a substantial commitment to a future and higher purposes. Meaning it's no substitute at all. It's a place-holder as people do the difficult heart and mind work to prepare themselves to living up to their sincerest values.

What's becoming clear to me, right now, is that what we are missing in Iraq is not necessarily a lot of new ideas (though these would be helpful, and certainly stronger thinking about how and when to use force and aggression would serve us well), but a renewed commitment to our strongest ideals.

Iraq is likely to disappoint those ideals when this is all over with. Just as America disappointed those ideals after the Revolution.

But disappointment is not reason to give up on ideals. Ideals are the standard by which disappointment is measured. Disappointment is reason to persevere in developing our thoughts and commitments, our hearts and minds, in setting the stage for ideals to be realized and for people to face the difficulties and setbacks that inevitably come with setting their sights high.

The bottom-line in Iraq is that we need a democratic government that will be crafted as a function of a political compromise that cares for the most serious concerns of Iraqis, right now, and that can deal with other concerns as they come up, over time, in a democratic fashion.

Sunnis, Shias, and Kurds, and their alligned militias, need to invest themselves in a political solution to the conflict where political and cultural concerns are resolved non-violently, either through government or through a freer Iraqi culture.

To do that, they will need a security situation that is stable enough for Iraqis to trust that such a government can provide basic safety, end ethnic violence, and provide a safe enough space for Iraqis to work out concerns together without violence. Americans will need to help with that situation, for now, both in training Iraqis to do a better job of caring for such concerns and in providing the support of a military capable of handling conflict too overwhelming for the Iraqi military (and perhaps supplying the Iraqi government with weapons, equipment, and any other support that they might need to carry out this mission).

What they don't need is Americans bullying them or anyone else, anymore, about how to go about doing that. They don't need Carl Levin bullying them anymore than they needed George Bush bullying them.

Iraqis and Americans need leadership that is genuinely committed to a successful Iraqi democratic government and the nurturing of a more authentic free and equitable democratic culture in Iraq, meaning a culture premised upon freedom and equity and thoughtful reflection and engagement with serious issues as a means of promoting self-governance and self-determination among average Iraqis as the basis for a sustainable democratic future in Iraq.And what we all need to provide that leadership is some serious soul searching. Some genuine belief in democratic ideals, even as the world perpetually falls short of our idealism.

Me too. As I've watched Democrats fall short of so many of my own democratic ideals, I've been prone to cyncism, lately. The idea of a world where I am forced to do the bidding of anyone who can find the means to compel me is so discouraging, that I've lost some fire and spirit, lately, as I search deep for faith and hope in a world where so many people lack both in the most serious ways.

It is so strange to me that a generation in America that was nurtured in the commitment to love and compassion and equity by the likes of Martin Luther King, Bobby Kennedy, John F. Kennedy, John Lennon and the Beatles, Abraham Maslow and later Bill Clinton, Joe Nye, Amartya Sen, and U2 and courage and freedom, by the likes of Milton Friedman, Ayn Rand, Ronald Reagan, George Will and Andrew Sullivan and the rock band Rush and would take such legacies so for granted in a world where the popularity of force as a political philosophy has substituted political imagination with obsession with power.

America, having lost track of their democratic ideals, has been engaged in a political civil war for the last 6 years. And she wonders why Iraq is embroiled in a civil war, herself, with that example to follow.

America needs to set a better example.

And a better example is set with a more honest and genuine commitment to democratic ideals.

The ideas about how to achieve those ideals follow a more genuine commitment to their fulfillment.

This is an aside. But it's funny. I've been single, meaningfully, for about 5 years, now. I've dated several women in there, but I've not been in love since I dated Brandi.

And the reason why I haven't found love is because the idealism that animated Brandi's and my relationship was more substantial than any of the relationships that I have had since that time. Idealism is not thought without action. Idealism is thought in action, with on-going thinking and reflection and engagement and dialogue and friendships and relationships and compassion and understanding to develop new ways of thinking about those to expand them to more people and to expand our ways of imagining a world that successfully navigates the challenges that we all face together.

Idealism is the only most substantial commitment that I've ever been able to count on amongst friends and colleagues. The extent to which they have it is generally reflective of the degree to which they have persisted in stronger purposes despite the obstacles that life has to offer.

Cynicism is borne of disappointment. And it becomes the most serious obstacle, itself, to a more ideal world than any obstacle that our idealism may originally encounter. Cynicism is the source of almost all of the most serious obstacles to more powerful ideals.And then cyncism scoffs like the bully at the ideals that it has knocked to the ground and says, "Told you so." It's an ugly pattern. And it only ends when we give it up.

I've decided that I will not date anyone who lacks the idealism that Brandi and I brought to that relationship we committed to when were too young to know just how ugly the world was and how long people would defend that ugliness. That includes Brandi, as she has settled in the last 5 years or so, who lost track of that idealism several years back, at this point.

Because no matter how much I try to pretend otherwise, I will always know that any other kind of love is not real. It is counterfeit. It is pretending to believe something to look more savvy of the world than I or anyone really is. That is what cynicism is, too often. A big front for how savvy one can look about the realities of the world, borne of the fear to acknowledge that one knows far less about the world and is far more afraid and confused in the world than one wants to admit.

And I'm just not interested in spending the rest of my life with someone like that. I want someone like the girl I fell in love with in the summer of 1997. That girl I have not seen for many years, now. But I just won't settle for less. Because everything else is bullshit. It's not real love.

The same goes for Iraq. As long as Americans are not honestly committed to the highest democratic ideas either in Iraq or in their relationships with states and countries in the rest of the world, their leadership is not genuine and they should expect mistrust from Iraqis and the rest of the world, which is the most substantial element to this whole situation that is undermining the success of a democratic government and a democratic culture and future in Iraq. Iraqis mistrust us because we have earned their mistrust. And the more we act like they are pawns in our efforts rather than people we care about worthy of our commitments, we will continue to earn that mistrust.

It is this failure on our part -- out failure to care about people for their own sake and not for how they can be of use to us -- that both is responsible for so many of our problems in America, in Iraq, and in the world and which blinds us to the heart of so many of those problems, as we rationalize why we try to force people to care, which is not possible, and which undermines the genuine caring that we need to solve so many of the problems that we face.

I will not settle for someone who does not love me, genuinely, for me and not for what I can do for them, what insecurities I keep at bay, how I make them look, what I can get for them, what I can do for them sexually, materially, or otherwise.None of those things is real love. And I have real love to offer. And so I expect the same in return and do not feel insecurity or desperation for something less than that. And if I were to settle, I would always know that I have given up on real love for something less.

I have no interest in settling for less than love in my marriage and relationships. And I have no interest in settling for anything less than the highest democratic ideals in Iraq, in America's relationship with her neighbors in the world, and in how we aspire to live as free and democratic citizens in the international community.

The irony in the discussions of the strength of Malcolm X and the weakness of Martin Luther King (and Bobby Kennedy or John F. Kennedy) and all of King's talk about love and compassion and turning the other cheek, is that King was, by far, the more courageous and strong of those two leaders. The courage to love and to show compassion for those who would withhold freedom from you is far more courageous and involves far more strength than railing against them as "devils". Hating those who would oppress you is far less courageous than loving them, expecting better, and engaging in constructive (and as non-violent as possible) conflict to promote one's freedom, or, in the case of Iraq, a democracy that will secure that freedom and the hope for a freer and more equitable democratic future.

Love is borne of genuine concern for others. Americans and most people lack that. For Iraqis, for the world, for each other, and most importantly, for themselves.

And I am holding out for a woman who has that kind of love. For herself. And for me.

And that is the only way forward in a world lost in its excuses for why it doesn't take that love and compassion and understanding, so basic to our dealings with one another, seriously enough.

Bobby Kennedy's eulogy for Martin Luther King upon his death in April of 1968 is one of the strongest testaments to that idea amidst a time of cynicism and violence and the ugliest human impulses that I have ever heard.

Perhaps we can rediscover those ideals amidst a time when we need them most.




Love,
Ben

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

I miss being in love

A colleague of mine just got flowers for her birthday.

And I'm reminded that I miss being in love so much.

I love giving flowers. I love receiving them. But I love giving them more.

That feeling when you want to give your heart freely to someone all the time is a great feeling.

It just occurred to me something really amazing:

For all of our fighting and all of the difficult times, Brandi and I really never lost the romance or the sex. The sex was always hot, I think Brandi and I have both acknowledged, and I never stopped bringing flowers or doing romantic dinners or romantic times together.

There was just a ton of passion in our relationship, and much of that came out as fighting, unfortunately. I didn't even really believe we would break up, I was so in love.

Amazing, as I look back now. And more amazing the more I see older friends who complain of fizzling romance and relationships.

One thing is for sure for any woman who is with me that I fall in love with. It's a mighty love. And it's a hard one to fizzle out.

I need love and passion and romance in my life again.

I need to give flowers to someone.

Love,
Ben

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Making peace with a world of manipulation and control

I have spent a lot of time in the last 5 years or so thinking about the psychology of control. Why people want it, despite never having it in the most meaningful ways. How people rationalize it, no matter what ugly consequences its pursuit creates (except in circumstances of physical aggression where the threat is genuinely eminent and no other means is possible). What role it plays in all of the most serious tragedies and crimes against humanity in long-standing and near-term history.

And most difficult of all, I have thought about all of the ways that others will and do rationalize controlling me and anyone else, no matter how well they lead their lives and no matter what quality of person they might control -- no matter how much a world that tries and went to great lengths to control and dominate Jesus of Nazareth, the Buddha, Martin Luther King, Mohatma Ghandi, and Desmond Tutu seems perverse and distorted, and yet how the rationalization persists despite that distortion. I have thought long and hard and I think I'm beginning to finally come to terms with the fact that if I want freedom to live my life and to champion the cause of freedom and to work to excel beyond my own and others more minimal and smaller expectations for myself and people, then I will have to embrace that freedom despite the efforts of others to control me, not wait for their permission.

Freedom and the responsibilities that come with its higher ideals, I have decided, is a cause that will have to be pursue of my own accord despite the efforts to control and manipulate and pressure and otherwise bully me without respect for my conscience and free thought and choices.

It is a moral cause as much as it is a concern for stronger solutions to humanity's problems.

And last night and today, I think I am finally coming to terms with my need to embrace the freedom that is necessary to be a genuinely good human being (and not just be fearful and repressed and persistently trying, fruitlessly, to control what I fear) regardless of what others think, regardless of how I fit in or do not with people, regardless of whether my freedom is respected or not by others.

This is the only life I've ever dreamed of. And whether or not it manifests itself ideally or not in my own lifetime, I intend to live a life committed to my own freedom of thought and conscience and where love rather than power or wealth or control or darker desires are my center.

That is where our truer center is found. Our moral center. Our political center. It is found in the heart. It is found in our more genuine love and compassion for others and the understanding that develops out of that compassion. And it is that compassion, hence, that those who live out of fear and control fear most; fearing that they are weak the more they love. Because love does not control. And love challenges us to let go of fear and our need to control.

If you love something, set it free.

It's a principle that those who seek to repress and control fear because it means opening up beyond their defenses -- which are useless in the biggest sense, no matter how much they buttress them -- and make them vulnerable to a world full of pain but also full of life and love. Love and pain come hand in hand. And it is pain that people waste so much precious time trying to protect themselves against with controls that make it all the more likely, sadly.

Luckily, we seem to find our way out of the shadows that we too often mistake for sunshine, as Plato observed, and to be led by love more than by fear, as Martin Luther King insightfully noted.

Today and last night, I have been making my peace with a world where some people will persistently try to manipulate and control me, no matter how much respect for my freedom and the freedom for others is fundamental to a responsible life, a responsible politics, and a responsible morality and humanity.

And it is the most freedom that I have felt in a long time.

Love,
Ben

Joe Biden is a scary motherfucker

Biden: Blame immigration woes on Mexico

Speaking of people who operate out of insecurity and D-values.

Joe now favors a fence on the Mexican border to deal with immigration and the dreaded drug trade.

Joe Biden is now officially a scary motherfucker.

Thank God this guy will never be President. Now if we could only get him off of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee.

Where is Dick Lugar when you need him?

Our worst natures

The darkest feature of our free will, I'm learning, is that we can rationalize anything with a cover of being righteous.

Abraham Maslow was right. Most people operate with D-values, meaning values of insecurity. All of us operate with D-values, at some level. But some people operate more out of this level of values rather than out of higher B-values or our higher values and ideals.

And the most basic need that impedes our growth and that is so easily manipulated and exploited is our desire to be viewed favorably by others. All of us have this tendency, and we are either more or less honest with ourselves and others about how much we want to look good at the expense of being honest with ourselves and others, which would better facilitate our actually being good and better people.

And the worst feature of this insecurity is when we enforce our fear of who we might really be, inside, on everyone, because staying our fear is more important than growing beyond them.

Fear is both the most dangerous and notorious weapon of the weak and the most serious impediment to our growth.

Our saving grace is that fear cannot lead to anywhere where we can thrive.

And eventually, we need real nourishment.

We must fumble around in our own internal darkness, I am discovering, before we can finally see the light. All of us. Without exception.

And the most fearful and insecure among us fumble for longer than others because they keep mistaking the darkness for light. Fear for understanding.

Fear of understanding mistaken for weakness and reflective of our own weaknesses we prefer to remain blind to is one of the most serious obstacles to personal and cultural learning, growth, and progress.

We only find strength and understanding when we let go of weakness rather than defending ourselves against its presence. And this weakness most of all -- our propensity to protect our ego from facing our weaknesses for fear of acknowledging them-- is the most pernicious frailty of all.

Love,
Ben

Monday, November 27, 2006

You know what I'm proudest of?

I just happened by this blog about this female professor talking about tenure and her concerns about the process.

And I just realized that something really extraordinary that I am really proud of with this book and my work is the one thing that was hardest:

That I broke away from the university and its politics to write something that I thought needed the freedom for me to write for its own sake, rather than to appease any political environment, including the university, to be as honest as possible.

University politics are some crazy politics to navigate when you care about honest scholarly work. And it creates blindspots for academics that I want, as much as possible, to be able to recognize, shed light on them, and to create understanding in their place.

Life is political in a way that perpetually shuts down honest discussion, political or otherwise. Fear is our biggest obstacle to making progress, and fear both blinds us to our failures and shuts down discussion and debate and engagement and dialogue and understanding that might help us illuminate them.

Fear undermines honest understanding because it shuts down the communication and engagement that makes honest understanding more possible.

And universities, like life in general, are full of politics inspired by fear that undermine honest communication, engagement, and understanding.

The best way out of that fear is for us to let go of it and our foolish notion that we must inspire it to scare away all of our fears.

But absent that, since that is a very tall order, we can find freedom to share understanding outside of the purview of power dynamics that inspire fear and undermine engagement and understanding.

This is a time where we have foolishly romanticized inspiring fear in others to solve problems that fear can never solve since it undermines the understanding that is necessary to resolve most serious issues.

But there are always ways around the fear and those who monger it for whatever purposes.

Universities are the best institutions in the world, in my experience, for opening up our opportunities to share understanding without fear. And they still fall short. Every group, every institution, every relationship falls short as we learn to treat one another better and trust one another better as the foundation for supporting our mutual understanding and engagement to tackle and resolve serious problems that we face together.

And I'm proud of the fact that I have had this time outside of even the most open institution to consider the blindspots of all groups and institutions, even the most honest and decent and genuine, like universities.

I'm exhausted. I need a nap in a serious way.

Love,
Ben

Do you know what I miss?

From an email I wrote to Melissa, today:

"Do you know what I miss, Melissa? You what feels missing every day of my life and has felt missing for more than 5 years, now?

A feeling of inspiration because people around me feel similarly inspired.

That's what's gotten better at school. People seem to be taking the job as seriously and caring about the kids closer to the very genuine concern that I have for them.

That was the feeling I had when Brandi and I were together that I miss so badly. Working on something important with someone who cares about it as much as I do and with whom I can share my passion and enthusiasm. I haven't felt that in a long time. And it feels missing every day of my life that I don't have it.

It's something I can't do on my own, I'm learning. It's something either you share with someone else or you don't. I miss it. And I live for it when it's around. And no amount of money can replace it."

It is awesome and amazing what two young people can kindle that together when they don't have the cynicism of older adults weighing them down.

That's the feeling I miss in my life more than any other. If I could have that feeling again, I wouldn't give two shits about anything else: money, prestige, influence, fame.

Nothing else matters when you feel that kind of love.

I have to hope it's out there. Because it would be a tragedy if no woman had the courage or love in her to step up to the plate and experience that kind of love and inspiration.

No matter how much of the other stuff I might come by, life will seem empty if I don't have that kind of love again.

It's the only thing worthy of my life. And love.

Love,
Ben

Sunday, November 26, 2006

A new book idea

I'm still working on my book. I've actually thought about it more than I've worked on it, but I suppose that counts since the work is found in the thinking.

The first book: The Limits of Power

3 sections:

1) Empirical discussion of power and the use of force and aggression and its consequences
- a thoughtful exploration of those arguments and alternate causalities for data around governance and its empirical consequences with best arguments for power and force for domestic and international issues and an empirical discussion of its consequences in each case
- drug control, gun control and death penalty featured among domestic issues
- terrorism, genocide, and poverty and wealth equity featured among international issues
2) Philosophical discussion of morality, free will, law, and politics
3) Theoretical discussion of least possible necessary aggression

Second book: A History of Liberal Democracy

Something to that effect. I want to write a progressive history -- with a clear distinction between real progress, meaning empirical improvement on important indicators, and progressive politics, a ideological orientation that may or may not and does and does not promote real progress -- of liberal democracy and liberal democratic principles and the ways that they support human progress.

I've just decided that I don't think I can do the first more empirical, philosophical and theoretical book as a progressive history. But I think a historical exploration of the same issues would be powerful.

I have to say that something that is interesting in my own personal and professional development is that I am much more genuinely committed to empirical exploration of these issues independent of my own biases and philosophical commitments than I think I've been at all up to this point. I've explored so many different ways to approach various policy issues that I can conceive of policy data in lots of different ways in terms of constructive policy. And I think data and strong theory about data is more important than any ideology or ideological or philosophical lens on an issue. The philosophy and theory and ideas matter.

But what I love about theory and the reason that this needs to feature up front in my writing, I think, is that theory is built around empirical science rather than either trying to substitute data for theory or committing oneself to an ideology or philosophy or worldview and then trying to fit facts into that thinking.

I'm not interested in theory to reinforce my biases. I'm interested in theory to develop stronger explanations of data, not to develop a worldview to manipulate facts to fit my thinking. The latter just doesn't make any sense, really, because it's not an honest exploration of facts. And it is this kind of self-righteousness that I am so frustrated and disappointed with in contemporary political discussions. And it is the certainly the kind of self-righteousness that leads to all of the worst tragedies in humanity's history, I believe: genocide, imperialism, terrorism, brutality; religious, ethnic, racial, sexual, economic and other forms of repression. It is this kind of self-righteousness that enlightened thought was meant to escape. And I am more committed to that notion than I am to any particular idea, philosophy or theory.

I've got grading to do. And Carson, I wrote this big long "5 things people don't know about me" before Thanksgiving and lost it all, somehow. So I'm working on it again, as I get the chance.

Love,
Ben

Monday, November 20, 2006

In honor of Milton Friedman, a free market education policy discussion

I happened across an excellent free market education policy discussion at Reason Magazine, today, and I thought I'd share it in honor of the man who made, from my reading, the most persuasive case for market reforms in education, Milton Friedman.

Let a Thousand Choices Bloom

If you haven't visited the Milton and Rose D. Friedman Foundation to promote school choice, I highly recommend it, especially given the beautiful and moving obituary for Milton on its front page.

Milton Friedman's seminal 1955 article arguing for school choice, The Role of Government in Education, is powerful, but it is not the most powerful argument I have heard for school choice.

The most powerful argument I have heard for school choice also came from Milton Friedman. It was an empirical argument based on an area of education that the United States undoubtedly excels at internationally: higher education.

Friedman argued that one of the incontrovertably successful places that the United States has provided education -- by both public and private institutions -- has been in colleges and universities. And that the heart of that success is the amount of choice, freedom, and self-determination in college and university selection in the United States and by the American and international students who attend them.

The success of institutions of higher education, argued Friedman, were not just that students chose where they wanted to attend, which is important if people are to freely embrace the responsibility that comes with a strong education. But that colleges and universities have substantial and often sacrosanct autonomy over their institutions, for good reason. While public and private schools generally welcome government money for their institutions, they are rightly and for good reason, very skeptical of government interference or subtantial oversight or control of their activities, largely because the value on freedoms of thought and exchange and teaching and learning in universities are often considered sacred on university campuses, for good reason.

Thus, one of the freest markets and some of the freest institutions in the country also hail an international reputation for quality.

It was an excellent and powerful argument, and -- in addition to many very powerful arguments for school choice -- was the one that eventually swayed me to the idea of choice as fundamental to public education school reform.

As I watch the hubris of liberals, right now, running against the more genuinely liberal tide of human history, which affirms human freedom and genuine equity, at the moment of Milton Friedman's death, I am sad for Milton that he had to die at a time when his legacy was being most forcefully challenged by those who do not appreciate fully enough the power of his ideas or the power of freedom for the course of humanity.

But reflecting on the legacy of a man who stood against collectivism and for freedom, and individual choice, and independent thought when the cause was much more unpopular, I am heartened by the realization that the cause of freedom burns much brighter today, despite the current setback of the contemporary regressive political moment, than it did when he first wrote.

And that, undoubtedly, the cause of freedom outstrips the arrogance and power of those who seek to limit it.

As Andrew Sullivan remarked more than 3 years ago, this is a dark time for freedom.

But it is the darkness before the dawn. Because darkness always gives way to light on the road of human progress.

Love,
Ben

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Hope amidst pessimism

This is a very pessimistic and cynical time for Iraq and America, right now.

Charlie Rangel's proposal of a new draft illustrates everything that I find foolish and counterproductive and nonsensical about Democrats, right now.

Henry Kissinger sounds a dour note that demonstrates that foreign policy experience does not equate with constructive policy advice.

And amidst all of the glum and helplessness that so many people feel in Iraq, largely because their cynicism about both means and ends in Iraq and in much policy are self-fullfilling...

Jeremy Greenstock has an excellent proposal for a political resolution to the underlying issues in Iraq along with a commitment to military resources to create as much security as possible to deal with this terrible mess. Jeremy's idea for a nationalized oil industry is questionable and would need to be reformed with free market commitments at some point, anyway. But otherwise, Jeremy's proposal is solid and a much more constructive alternative to Kissinger's similar proposal of an international conference with a weaker commitment to democratization in Iraq.

What distinguishes Greenstock's proposal from Charlie Rangel's cynical suggestion and Henry Kissinger's pessimistic prognostocations is that Greenstock is committed to a political resolution consistent with a more democratic Iraq even if that resolution may fall short of our ideals, but without giving up on the ideals.

So many people, Kissinger and Rangel included, confuse their cynicism and disappointment with realities they don't like -- an unstable Iraq, for Kissinger; the President declaring a war that Charlie disagreed with for Senator Rangel -- with some constructive approach to resolving the issue.

What Kissinger and Rangel are stuck on is the same failed way of thinking about the situation. The problem with the war was not enough force and control. For Rangel, the problem was that there wasn't enough controls on the President to declare the war. For Kissinger, the problem was not working to place Iraq under the thumb of a military strong-man early on, rather than committing ourselves to a democratic Iraq (while simiultaneously and nonsensically supporting the President's commitment to democraticatization, internationally).

When, no matter how much people keep fucking this up, the problem is not that there is not enough force or control over the situation. Those are control issues on the part of Henry and Charlie, who just can't come to terms with the fact that neither of them can control the things that they are trying to control.

The problem from the beginning, as Jeremy well argues, is that we have not taken democratic commitments seriously enough over the course of the war. My critique, up front, was that we did not consult with Iraqis who both needed to make a commitment to an invasion and needed to lead a revolt, I believe, to undercut insurgent efforts to expel the American infidel. Iraqis lives were at stake and noone talked with Iraqis about a possible invasion. Americans failed to discuss the option with Iraqi opposition and militia groups so that they could lead an effort and undercut perception and reality that Americans were invading for their own purposes. It was American hubris at its worst and we are paying the price for it.

And Jeremy argues well, I think, that the most pressing problem, today, is not military victory, which as Henry argues is not a viable option for resolving this situation. The problem is that democratic dialogue amongst all interested parties, both within Iraq and outside of Iraq, is not taking place to ensure an outcome that works for everyone's interests, including and especially Iraqis.

Jeremy is right. There is no reason that we need to lower our sights for democratization of Iraq. Is there going to be all kinds of obstacles and setbacks for many, many years to a more mature Iraqi democracy? Of course. They have no experience with democracy. But does that mean that we should resign ourselves to a civil war or to an opppressive Shia or Sunni majority or an autocracy with a military strong-man (Kissinger's suggestion, by the way, you notice, completely mirrors his advice and active support of Augusto Pinochet in Chile and to the assassination of at least one Chilean general by Kissinger directed assassins; so perhaps Henry is being a bit self-serving in his cynicism and, at the very least, perhaps we should be a little skeptical of that already failed advice)?

Of course we should not resign ourselves. Henry's experience in Chile should be reason enough for him to be skeptical of his own cynical advice and is perhaps a sign that Henry has not learned the lesson from that very tragic mistake on his part.

Resigning ourselves to the ugly realities that could take place in Iraq does not constructively deal with those realities, even if they fall short of our expectations. And, in the meantime, the cynicism undermines constructive efforts like the one proposed by Jeff Greenstock to take democratic approaches, as much as democratic outcomes, more seriously in finding a resolution that gets us closer to a more stable, more democratic Iraq, even if that reality falls short of our democratic ideals (ideals are not meant to be fulfilled completely, at all times, after all; they are blueprints for making our lives better and standards by which our efforts are judged as successes or failures).

A more open, more democratic, more participatory international multilateral conference of all parties internal and external in Iraq would go a long way to moderating sectarian conflict and insurgent resistance to an Iraqi government with final authority for the use of force, to dealing constructively with the concerns of involved parties, and with developing an Iraqi government that would satisfy various parties. Will this government fall short of our expectations and democratic ideals? Absolutely. But will a commitment to the fulfillment of those ideals get us closer than absent that commitment. Definitely. And it creates the space for criticisms of the Iraqi government and Iraqi society for the ways that they fall short of those ideals.

As William Safire, Alexis DeToqueville, and others have made clear, genuine democracy is not rule over, it is rule committed to self-governance and self-determination. Genuine democracy is not about coercing others to do our will. It is about empowering people to do their own, to do so freely, and out of that free will, to do so responsibly. And to responsibly engage others about and resolve important issues in ways that account for mutual interests.

People who think of democracy as, primarily, formal institutions to coerce their will are not committed to democracy genuinely at all. That kind of democracy is the most minimal commitments of those not committed sufficiently to freedom and equity as the foundations for self-determination and self-governance which are the most sustainable route to a well-governed society and the primary virtue of free societies and free peoples.

It is the primary virtue of free societies that those advocating more autocratic arrangements and free peoples alike persistently take for granted: that freedom creates the room for a society of self-governing people of virtue rather than the illusion of virtue in a society consumed with power, control, repression, retribution, revenge, destruction and self-destruction. Free societies are the only path to real virtue. Every other society is bound up in repression and self-deception. Palestine, North Korea, Iran, and Cuba are excellent examples of the latter; societies so wrapped up in their repression, retribution, revenge, destruction, and self-destruction that they just cannot face their failures of conscience and governance. They cannot face the ugly, dysfunctional cultures they have created and they cannot face the ugly, dysfunctional governments that they often support, and, in the case of Palestine and Iran, that they elect.

Free and democratic societies do not leave us free of vice. No culture does that. Free and democratic societies leave us more free, able, and likely to take responsibility for our vice and to embrace our virtue, in our personal choices and in our choices for governance.

What Charlie and Henry lack that Jeremy maintains is a genuine commitment to democracy. Not democracy as a means of controlling those you disagree with or democracy as a means of controlling a population. What Jeremy has that Charlie and Henry lack is a genuine commitment to democratic means and attitudes toward parties that takes seriously peoples' concerns and the self-determined concerns of Iraqis, not as obstacles to an external priority that must be imposed without consulting parties. Our goal of democracy for Iraq is a good one. But it is one that must be practiced more substantially, not just opined about and then imposed with a democratic process that lacks commitment to democratic substance, especially the need by Iraqis to a self-determined political solution to the crisis they face currently rather than impositions from America or elsewhere. Democracy, at its heart, is about engagement and ideas to resolve important problems that people face, not a process by which we manipulate to impose our will. To use the levers of democratic power in ways that undermines democratic conversation and engagement is not genuinely democratic. It is getting your way. Democratic means that other people are taken seriously other than yourself. And they are taken seriously equitably -- meaning on their own terms and by their own self-determined sense of their needs and interests -- not using a majority vote to shove your ideas down other peoples' throats.

The latter is democracy of the cynic. It is not genuine democracy, it doesn't take principles of equity and freedom seriously, and people who advocate it should not be taken seriously.

Democracy, at its heart, is about people equitably resolving problems in a way that takes freedom seriously and which looks after the interests of everyone equitably, not one person or one group at the expense of others.

And Henry and Charlie don't get that, frankly, because neither of them take seriously the interests or concerns of others nearly seriously enough.

Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Forcing others to do your bidding is not democratic. It is manipulative and dishonest and wrong.

And people who do it don't take commitments to freedom and democracy seriously enough. And they shouldn't be taken as seriously in a discussion about how to democratize.

Here's to hope amidst pessimism.

Love,
Ben

Saturday, November 18, 2006

An enduring legacy

The Economist has an excellent obituary for Milton Friedman. The finest I've read thusfar.

An enduring legacy

It is amazing to me how one person can be so productive when so many people accomplish so little in their lifetimes.

The negative income tax (otherwise known as the earned income tax credit), a volunteer army, a commitment to free markets and central banks directing economic activity rather than government, public and private school choice and vouchers, proposing the idea of natural unemployment.

And that is not even to mention the powerful legacy of a promoting freedom, his ability to explain the powerful role that freedom plays in stronger, more responsible choices and understandings of the world, and his living legacy to that idea.

Milton Friedman accomplished more in one lifetime than most people ever imagine for themselves.

His ideas were powerful and animated by a commitment to freedom that has already done so much good for the world and will likely, hopefully, do still much good after his death.

When I say that I don't agree with everything that Milton Friedman has said or argued or thought or believed, I say it as someone who has never and will never agree with everything that anyone ever says. Milton's vision of the power of free peoples and markets to care for so many important social issues -- health, safety, the environment, poverty and wealth inequities, concerns around race, ethnicity, nationality, religious affiliation, gender, and so many other social issues -- was more limited than free people or free markets were capable of. And his failure of imagination on these issues will rationalize the very kinds of regulation of those markets that Milton so powerfully argued against unless free peoples take advantage of their freedom more responsibly to care for those issues. The failure of those regulations will neither be enough nor are they likely to deter the more ideologically-committed of their advocates, no matter what failures they create or encounter. It will take positive commitments by those within the free world and within free markets to offer real rather than just hypothetical alternatives to regulation or government to attempt to resolve such issues. Issues that can only be resolved with the free commitments of free peoples, but which ideologues may never be satisfied with undermining no matter their failures.

Milton Friedman's most important legacy was his commitment to freedom and the commitment to free thinking that is humanity's only most serious hope for resolving all of its most serious problems.

And it is that legacy that ranks Milton Friedman as one of the most important thinkers of the 20th century. And one of the few thinkers whose ideas will live long after him into the 21st century and beyond.

Love,
Ben

Looking after number one

You know what's the ultimate self-centeredness that the majority of people in the world commit and that noone wants to take responsibility for:

They all want to be forgiven. But nobody wants to forgive.

It's the ultimate self-centeredness of humanity, as far as I'm concerned.

And the tragedy of it all is that we all do and will need forgiveness for our self-centeredness around forgiveness and all of the ways that our vision of the world is distorted by our self-centeredness.

You know why Democrats don't impress me in the least, these days?

The one way they try to distinguish themselves from Republicans is around wealth inequities.

And yet I very rarely hear from Democrats -- John Edwards and Barak Obama being two very rare exceptions and even their opining is kind of weak given the enormity of wealth inequities -- getting to the heart of wealth inequities. And the heart of wealth inequities is that we all take advantage of our neighbors and that we all need to stop. Rich people, middle class people, poor people. We all take advantage of our neighbor. And the only way we will stop, I'm convinced is to the degree that we stop voluntarily and to the degree to which we wisen up and don't let people take advantage of us to the greatest degree possible.

The sad fact of life is that the second option has limits in what it can do for us. And that, ultimately, when it comes to alleviating wealth inequities, the first option -- our willingness to voluntarily stop taking advantage of our neighbor -- is the only real hope we have on this issue.

And everything else -- the minimum wage, health care, family leave, education, etc. -- these issues are all just a function of our willingness to stop.

And until we do, this issue will remain on our individual and general consciences and our childrens' consciences and their childrens' consciences until we face it squarely.

The one really great thing about this period is that American hegemony -- liberal or conservative -- over the world is being seriously and permanently eroded, I think. America and people, generally, will either lead because they have better ideas for leadership, or they will lose their following. Force and power and wealth are not good enough reasons for leadership. And you can some of the people some of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all of the time. And Democrats, like Republicans, will have to learn that lesson the hard way, it seems.

As long as we satisfy ourselves with the cyncism, a cynical reality will remain and all of the cyncical responses to the reality that have all gotten worse in the last 6 years will get worse. And the world will continue down that road until we wisen up and face the reality squarely.

The last 6 years have been one long self-congratulation by the left and by the right for all of their ugliest, meanest, most cynical, most thoughtless instincts.

And there is no real progress in that kind of self-congratulation.

Every ugly reality that has ever persisted in the world has been rationalized as the only possible reality by its cynical defenders or even cynical detractors. Slavery, oppression of women, oppression of minority ethnicities, religions, ideologies, and groups, imperialism, repressive government, poverty and wealth inequities.

Every single ugly reality in the world that exists or has existed has tried to suck new life from the cynical rationalization that the world could be and would be no other way.

And the only thing that has ever made those cynical realities go away is peoples' willingness to face them squarely and criticize them until they were resolved; not until the consciences of those who perpetuate them are appeased.

Forgiveness is the only context in which that can be done effectively. And it is the path that can facilitate it most quickly and successfully. There isn't enough prosecution in the world to make this issue or any issue go away. Conscience is what we must engage. And no other path will resolve this or any other issue. Every other path is temporary and minimal in scope.

And anyone who thinks differently around that fundamental issue, as far as I'm concerned, is just not being honest with themselves or others.

Here's to a world where we all take more serriously getting honest with ourselves.

Love,
Ben