Recently in The Twenties Category

"The narrative is simple: Insurance company plans have failed to care for our people. They profit from denying care. Americans care about one another. An American plan is both the moral and practical alternative to provide care for our people."

Cognitive scientist George Lakoff discusses how the administration should best promote health reform (and the American Plan, nee "public option"), and offers a choice critique of "policy speak" -- the old progressive standby of "enlightening public opinion" -- that would make Walter Lippmann very happy: "To many liberals, Policy Speak sounds like the high road: a rational, public discussion in the best tradition of liberal democracy. Convince the populace rationally on the objective policy merits. Give the facts and figures. Assume self-interest as the motivator of rational choice. Convince people by the logic of the policymakers that the policy is in their interest. But to a cognitive scientist or neuroscientist, this sounds nuts. The view of human reason and language behind Policy Speak is just false. "

Lakoff aside, the good folks at Media Matters have compiled a useful list of "Myths and Falsehoods about Health Care Reform," and how best to refute them. And, next time somebody starts ranting at you about how Big Guv'mint never does anything right, send 'em here with a smile.

As most everyone keeping up on current events these days knows, the people around the president, as well as the president himself, spend a good bit of time emphasizing the pragmatic nature of this administration. One senior administration official recently deemed the president a "devout nonideologue", and Obama himself has argued several times that he aims to tackle the myriad problems before us with a "ruthless pragmatism." Now, we've seen nothing to indicate that Obama's pragmatic nature is an act. If anything, from installing Sen. Clinton as his Secretary of State to keeping Sec. Gates at Defense, it's clear that pragmatism, accommodation, and inclusiveness are his temperamental instincts as a politician. Nevertheless, it's also clear that comparisons to Franklin Roosevelt, and the "bold, persistent experimentation" Roosevelt promised in 1932 -- and subsequently followed through on over the course of the decade -- aren't entirely undesired by the White House.

Well, I've been traveling over the past few days, and thus haven't been following the news as closely as usual. Still, even given President Obama's health care announcement on Monday (highly reminiscent of the NRA in that it purports to let the big players in the health care industry help write the codes, so to speak) and the welcome declaration on Wednesday that the administration would soon seek a new regulatory apparatus for derivatives markets, Franklin Roosevelt was not the first president that came to mind as a point of reference for Obama this week.

No, that would be Gerald Ford, who, most historians agree, was an honorable man thrust into a thorny dilemma by the crimes of his predecessor, and who grievously hamstrung his own brief administration by deciding to pardon Richard Nixon. And now, it seems, history gets dangerously close to repeating itself. For, it's moved beyond obvious that the Dubya administration not only willfully engaged in torture -- clearly, bad enough -- but did so to compel false confessions of an Iraq-9/11 connection that they knew never existed. And yet, we've already witnessed the ungainly sight of President Obama equivocating on the question of prosecutions in the name of some dubious "time for reflection, not retribution." (Never mind that, as President Obama reminds us on other matters, wounds, like corruption, fester in the dark.)

This week, President Obama has compounded his recent error -- twice. In the first of two eleventh-hour reversals, Obama -- who has promised us "an unprecedented level of openness in government" many times over -- instead chose to side with the publicists of the Pentagon and block the court-ordered release of new photographs detailing detainee abuse: "'The publication of these photos would not add any additional benefit to our understanding of what was carried out in the past by a small number of individuals,' Obama said yesterday. 'In fact, the most direct consequence of releasing them, I believe, would be to further inflame anti-American opinion and to put our troops in danger.'" (How bad are they? If Sy Hersh is correct, and there's no reason to think he isn't, they could be very, very bad.)

Then, today, the Obama administration announced they will continue using extra-legal military tribunals, not federal courts or military courts martial, for Gitmo suspects. "'Military commissions have a long tradition in the United States,' said Obama in a statement. 'They are appropriate for trying enemies who violate the laws of war, provided that they are properly structured and administered.'" (The key line of the WP story: "In recent weeks, however, the administration appears to have bowed to fears articulated by the Pentagon that bringing some detainees before regular courts presented enormous legal hurdles and could risk acquittals.)"

Obama's statements aside, the arguments -- re: excuses -- in favor of blocking the release of these no-doubt-horrifying photos and maintaining extralegal tribunals -- now with 33% less illegality! -- are the thin gruel you might expect. The WP's Dan Froomkin already eviscerated the former quite devastatingly, while Salon's Glenn Greenwald, laudable as usual, has taken point on the idiocy of the latter: "[W]e'll give due process as long as we're sure we can win, and if we can't, we'll give you something less." In both cases, the principle animating the advice given to President Obama seems mainly to be the usual self-serving, CYA behavior of Dubya holdovers at the Pentagon.

But that doesn't absolve President Obama of his failures here. For whatever reason -- perhaps he's trying to smooth things over in these areas so he can focus on the considerable domestic problems on his plate -- Obama is increasingly making the exact same mistake as Gerald Ford. As other commentators have pointed out, by shoving the rampant illegalities of the GWoT under the rug -- or worse, perpetuating them -- Obama is dangerously close to making his administration retroactively complicit in the crimes of the previous administration.

Now, I'd like to move on to fixing the economy and universal health care -- not to mention voting, lobbying, and campaign finance reform -- as much as the next guy., But sidestepping the tough choices on torture and the imperial presidency, as Paul Krugman (whom I've had issues with but am in complete lockstep with here) noted a few weeks ago, is simply not an option, if we are to maintain anything resembling our national soul after this egregious wallowing in torture and illegality.

Speaking of which, a quick comment on the emerging question of what and when Speaker Pelosi knew about torture (which the Republicans have shamelessly latched onto like a life raft -- see in particular Karl Rove frantically pointing at her to save his own skin the other day. You can almost smell the desperate flop sweat exuding from his every pore.) Well, let's look into it. Commissions, investigations, prosecutions -- let's quit screwing around and start getting to the bottom of this fiasco. I can't believe I have to keep writing this like it's even a bone of contention, but look: If we can't get it together enough to collectively agree that torture is both immoral and illegal, and that those who designed and orchestrated these war crimes during the Dubya administration be subject to investigation, prosecution, and punishment, then we might as well call this whole "rule of law" thing off. As ethicist David Luban noted yesterday in congressional testimony, the relevant case law here is not oblique. Either the laws apply to those at the very top, or they don't -- in which case, it's hard to see why anyone else should feel bound to respect them either.

Which brings me back to pragmatism. Hey, in general, I'm all for it, particularly when you consider all the many imbecilities thrust upon the world by the blind ideological purity of the neocons of late. But, let's remember, the limits of pragmatism as a guiding national philosophy were exposed before all the world before Obama, or even FDR, ever took office. When, after several years of trying to stay well out of the whole mess, Woodrow Wilson entered America into World War I in 1917, the very fathers of Pragmatism, most notably philosopher of education John Dewey, convinced themselves war was now the correct call and exhorted their fellow progressives, usually in the pages of The New Republic, to get behind it. (Many did, but others -- such as Jane Addams and Nation editor Oswald Villard -- did not.) War went from being a moral abomination to a great and necessary opportunity for national renewal. Given it was a done deal, the pragmatic thing to do now was to go with the flow.

Aghast at this 180-degree shift in the thinking of people he greatly admired, a young writer named Randolph Bourne called shenanigans on this "pragmatic" turnaround, and excoriated his former mentors for their lapse into war fervor. "It must never be forgotten that in every community it was the least liberal and least democratic elements among whom the preparedness and later the war sentiment was found," Bourne wrote. "The intellectuals, in other words, have identified themselves with the least democratic forces in American life. They have assumed the leadership for war of those very classes whom the American democracy had been immemorially fighting. Only in a world where irony was dead could an intellectual class enter war at the head of such illiberal cohorts in the avowed cause of world-liberalism and world-democracy."

Now, you'd be hard-pressed to find a bigger cheerleader for the progressives than I. But the fact remains that Bourne, who perished soon thereafter in the 1918 influenza epidemic, was prescient in a way that many of the leading progressive thinkers were not. The emotions unleashed by the Great War and its aftermath (as well as the sight of the accompanying Russian Revolution) soon fractured completely the progressive movement in America, and proved exceedingly fertile soil for the reascendancy of the most reactionary elements around. (Back then "Bolshevik" and "anarchist" were preferred as the favorite epithets of the "One Hundred Percent American" right-wing, although "socialist," then as now, was also in vogue. At least then they had real socialists around, tho'.) And the pragmatic writers and thinkers of TNR, who thought they could ride the mad tiger through a "war to end all wars," instead found their hopes and dreams chewed up and mangled beyond recognition. They wanted a "world made safe for democracy" and they ended up with the Red Scare, Warren Harding, and an interstitial peace at Versailles that lasted less than a generation.

The point being: however laudable a virtue in most circumstances, pragmatism for pragmatism's sake can lead one into serious trouble. And, as a guiding light of national moral principle, it occasionally reeks. As Dewey and his TNR compatriots discovered to their everlasting chagrin, you can talk yourself into pretty much anything and deem it "pragmatic," when it's in fact just the path of least resistance. And, when your guiding philosophy of leadership is to always view intense opposing sides as Scylla and Charybdis, and then to steer through them by finding the calm, healthy middle, you can bet dollars-to-donuts that the conservative freaks of the industry will always be pushing that "center" as far right as possible, regardless of the issues involved. And, eventually, without a guiding moral imperative at work -- like, I dunno, torture is illegal, immoral, and criminal, or the rule of law applies to everyone -- you may discover that that middle channel is no longer in the middle at all, but has diverted strongly to the right. In which case, welcome to Gerald Ford territory.

Nobody wants that, of course. We -- on the left, at least -- all want to remember the Obama administration not as a well-meaning dupe notable mainly for its unfortunate rubberstamping of Dubya-era atrocities, but as a transformational presidency akin to those of Lincoln and the two Roosevelts. To accomplish this goal, it would behoove the White House to remember that Lincoln, pragmatic that he was, came to abolition gradually, but come to abolition he did. Or consider that Franklin Roosevelt, pragmatic that he was, eventually chose his side as well. "I should like to have it said of my first Administration that in it the forces of selfishness and of lust for power met their match," FDR said in his renomination speech of 1936. "I should like to have it said of my second Administration that in it these forces met their master."

I should like to have it said of President Obama's administration as well. The alternative -- Obama's sad, "pragmatic" capitulation to Dubya-era criminals -- is too depressing to contemplate. But the picture below (found here) gives you a pretty good sense of what it'll mean for America if we don't get to the bottom of this, and soon.

"'I feel very strongly we have a co-responsibility,' Clinton told reporters accompanying her to Mexico City a day after the Obama administration said it would send more money, technology and manpower to secure the Southwestern frontier and help Mexico battle the cartels." During a visit to our ailing neighbor, Secretary of State Clinton admits American culpability in the exacerbating of Mexico's drug war. "'Our insatiable demand for illegal drugs fuels the drug trade,' she said. 'Our inability to prevent weapons from being illegally smuggled across the border to arm these criminals causes the deaths of police officers, soldiers and civilians... Clearly, what we have been doing has not worked and it is unfair for our incapacity... to be creating a situation where people are holding the Mexican government and people responsible,' she said.'That's not right.'"

Well, cheers to Sec. Clinton for being honest about some of the causes of Mexico's escalating drug violence. Still, in pledging tighter borders, more troops, yadda yadda yadda, she and the administration are still dancing around one of the more obvious solutions to the problem.

"I thought of Gatsby's wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy's dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night."

Defiant and almost combative about the cinematic merits of Australia ("A lot of the film scientists don't get it"), director Baz Luhrmann announces he's moving right ahead on a new film version of The Great Gatsby. "If you wanted to show a mirror to people that says, 'You've been drunk on money,' they're not going to want to see it. But if you reflected that mirror on another time they'd be willing to...People will need an explanation of where we are and where we've been, and 'The Great Gatsby' can provide that explanation.'"

"'I was born in 1941, the year they bombed Pearl Harbor. I've been living in darkness ever since,' Dylan said to introduce the song, or as a goodbye, or, as he hadn't spoken before, as a hello. 'But it looks like things are going to change now.' At the end of the stage he stepped out from behind his electric organ and did a jig."

Thus was the freewheelin' Bob Dylan's happy reaction to Obama's election Tuesday night. (As you may remember, he publicly backed the senator in June.) For many others, including yours truly, the feeling of the evening might best be summed up by one of Dylan's esteemed contemporaries, Leonard Cohen: "Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Halleloooooojah!"

For the first time since 1994, we have a Democratic president and a safely Democratic Congress. For the first time since 1964, we have a Democratic president entering office with a commanding mandate from the people. For the first time since...well, ever, we've reaffirmed our founding principles by choosing an African-American to lead us into the future.

I don't want to overplay the "first black president" thing, because that's not at all why we chose Sen. Obama. Still it must be said: With this election, we have shown the world -- and ourselves -- anew that the American ideal isn't just a convenient myth, but a vision of the good that many of us still aspire to create every day. In the words of Cornel West, "To understand your country, you must love it. To love it, you must, in a sense, accept it. To accept it as how it is, however is to betray it. To accept your country without betraying it, you must love it for that in it which shows what it might become. America - this monument to the genius of ordinary men and women, this place where hope becomes capacity, this long, halting turn of the no into the yes, needs citizens who love it enough to reimagine and remake it." And so we have, in a way the founders of our American experiment 221 years ago could barely have imagined.

Meanwhile, even with crooks like Ted Stevens and Norm Coleman still floating for the moment, our old friends the Republicans are now not only in full rout, but appear to be set to tear each other's throats out in assigning blame for their repudiation at the polls. (Expect several further symposia of conservative hand-wringing, and a lot more intraparty shivving, along the lines of "Palin thinks Africa is a country," in the weeks to come.) This gang will regroup -- they always do -- but for now the GOP has enough problems of their own to keep them busy. And, whatever ever they manage to accomplish as the loyal(?) opposition, it seems a safe bet that the Conservative Era that began with the defeat of Barry Goldwater in 1964 has now officially coughed up its last in 2008, with the defeat of fellow Arizonan John McCain.

By the way, also joining the Republicans on the road to oblivion Tuesday night, alas, was my old laptop, a victim of post-return celebratory spillage. (Jamesons: Good for Jimmy McNulty and jubliant Dems, Bad for computer hardware in and around the television area.) Normally, inadvertently frying my growing-ancient-but-generally-reliable PC would've completely ruined my day. As it was, I took the news about like Baxter eating the whole wheel of cheese: "How'd you do that? Heck, I'm not even mad; that's amazing." (And, fortunately, the hard drive, and the dissertoral files therein, were salvageable regardless.)

One much more depressing skeleton at the feast Tuesday night, about which Ted at Gideonse Bible, Chris at DYFL, and others have written eloquently: the passage of the idiotic Proposition 8 in California, which seemingly won with quite a bit of help from first-time Obama voters. It's irredeemably sad not only that a day that saw so much progress was marred by Prop 8 and its like around the country, but that so many of the voters who helped strike a fatal blow against enduring racial prejudice at the national level seemingly had no qualms about encoding anti-gay bigotry into the California constitution.

Perhaps I'm dense, but I fail to understand how the institution of marriage could somehow be threatened by the state recognizing the unions of same-sex couples, particularly in a day and age when so many straight folk (myself included) have already had marriages that failed. (As my old boss used to say of the thrice-married Bob Barr back when he supported the Defense of Marriage Act: "Which marriage is he defending?") By the way, particularly galling on the Prop 8 front, I think, is the strong imposition of the Mormon church into the battle on the side of the anti-gay zealots. One would think, of all people, the Mormons might have some sense of the damage that can be wrought by the state involving itself in stringent definitions of marriage. But, no, apparently what was good for two ganders in the eyes of the Mormons isn't good for the goose. For shame.

Still, the Prop 8 debacle notwithstanding (I have every faith that within a decade, that law will seem as knee-jerk, narrow-minded, and embarrassing as it in fact is), Tuesday was otherwise a great night for America. What it now befalls us to remember is that, while we should savor them while we can, the path of progress before us will likely offer few such moments of jubilation in the months and years ahead. When it comes to change, it really is "uphill all the way."

Given the economic and diplomatic travails already before President-elect Obama, he'll have his work cut out for him from jump street. And those out there old enough to remember President Clinton's first days in office, and how quickly things seemed to go south then (the sanity-restoring '93 budget bill notwithstanding) will know that a Dem president and Dem Congress is no guarantee of progressive legislation in the offing. We won't see the change we want -- and voted for -- without maintaining steady and unyielding pressure on all the machinery of government in the months and years to come. Now is not the time to sit back and let our new president try to do all the heavy lifting, but to stay involved as citizens and keep the progressive ball moving forward. (And, hey, keeping one's head in the game may help to mitigate those postpartum existential crises The Onion warned us about.)

In an election held eighty years ago (i.e. in the living memory of one Ann Nixon Cooper), Herbert Hoover, the longstanding Secretary of Commerce widely revered as "the Great Engineer" and "the Great Humanitarian," decisively defeated Al Smith, the Catholic Governor of New York. "Given a chance to go forward with the policies of the last eight years," Hoover had promised in his nomination speech, "we shall soon with the help of God be in sight of the day when poverty will be banished from this nation." And, while he obviously had his detractors, many across the country viewed Hoover as a miracle-worker who could singlehandedly steer the country to these new great heights. "We were in a mood for magic," journalist Anne O’Hare McCormick wrote of the Hoover inauguration. "We summoned a great engineer to solve our problems for us; now we sat back comfortably and confidently to watch the problems being solved."

For his part, Hoover was less sanguine about his prospects. "They have a conviction that I am some sort of superman, he fretted. "If some unprecedented calamity should come upon the nation...I would be sacrificed to the unreasoning disappointment of a people who expected too much."

Who among us think Hoover a superman now? History doesn't stop with a war or an election or the collapse of a governing ideology, be it Communism or Conservatism. It grinds inexorably on, always uncertain, always equal parts danger and opportunity, and all too often deeply laced with irony -- Time and time again in our American story, nothing succeeds like abject failure, and nothing fails like a great success. So let's not rest on our laurels by any means: The election of 2008 was a campaign hard-fought and hard-won, but the battle continues, and in many ways the real work before us is only now just beginning.

Let us look to navigate the turbulent waters ahead with a deep and abiding faith in our new captain, but also with our own eyes to the sea.

(Presidents pic via Hal at Blivet and Patrick at Supercres.)

"Even revisionist historians who view Hoover kindly concede that his was a failed presidency. Still, it's unfortunate that commentators and politicians are employing 'Hoover' as an epithet for inaction. His White House tribulations consumed only four of more than 90 years studded with extraordinary achievements- -- as Great Engineer, as World War I Food Czar, and, above all, as Great Humanitarian." In light of recent events, esteemed historian William Leuchtenberg rides to the rescue of the Great Engineer, and attempts to set the record straight on comparisons of Dubya to Herbert Hoover. "In contrast to George W. Bush," he concludes, "President Hoover moved in unprecedented ways to cope with economic calamity."

"The Glass-Steagall Act is the Depression-era law that separated commercial and investment banking. It was functionally repealed in 1998, when Travelers (the parent company of Salomon Smith Barney) acquired Citicorp. And it was officially repealed in 1999. But recent events on Wall Street -- the failure or sale of three of the five largest independent investment banks -- have effectively turned back the clock to the 1920s, when investment banks and commercial banks cohabited under the same corporate umbrella." As Wall Street takes a dive in the wake of several bank failures and near-failures -- but, don't worry, the fundamentals of the economy are strong and everything -- Newsweek's Daniel Gross briefly discusses the end of the Glass-Steagal era, and what it means for the American economy.

"'This convention,' wrote H.L. Mencken, the most famous reporter of the age, is 'almost as vain and idiotic as a golf tournament or a disarmament conference.'" Those political junkies out there pining for a brokered convention, be careful what you wish for: The WP's Peter Carlson reminds everyone of the 1924 Democratic Convention in New York, which stalled out between Al Smith and William McAdoo before finally deciding on Wall St. lawyer John W. Davis, who in turn lost to Republican Calvin Coolidge and -- in twelve states -- Progressive Robert La Follette. (For the longer version, see Robert Murray's The 103rd Ballot. Which reminds me, having spent the day myself in 1924, it seemed a strange confluence to find this staring back at me upon my return to 2008.)

A disaster for the Democrats that year, the "unconventional convention" did at least provide choice grist for political wags then, and has ever since. "This thing has got to come to an end," Will Rogers pleaded well into the nine-day stretch. "New York invited you people here as guests, not to live." (Rogers also noted on the day of the infamous KKK resolution that it "will always remain burned in my memory as long as I live as being the day when I heard the most religion preached, and the least practiced, of any day in the world’s history.") When William Jennings Bryan, after days of thundering himself hoarse, wheeled around to support the final Davis ticket (which included as a sop to the Bryanites his younger brother in the veep slot), one reporter quipped: "If monkeys had votes, Mr. Bryan would be a champion of evolution."

And then there were the snafus. The Carlson piece talks about the Democratic decision to broadcast the convention on the newfangled radio, which turned out be a public relations catastrophe for the party. And there was worse. The Texas delegation -- aghast that they shared a block with St. Patrick's Cathedral and a city with Wall Street and the House of Morgan -- had to be talked out of burning a cross. And when the convention band tried to appease their southern guests at one point by striking up a "Dixie" song, they obliviously settled in on "Marching Through Georgia." Speaking of the Civil War, progressive Republican Hiram Johnson quipped once the Democratic ordeal was over, "How true was Grant's exclamation that the Democratic Party could be relied upon to do the wrong thing at the right time." (Let's try not to live down to that assessment this year, please.)

"As political scientist Jacob Hacker has argued, the basic obstacle was nothing less than the government's failure to have adopted a comprehensive health insurance plan decades earlier. As a result, the system that emerged by 1994 entailed such a crazy quilt of private interests -- corporations, small firms, insurers, doctors, unions, HMOs, and so on -- that moving all Americans into a new framework without worsening anyone's situation had become virtually impossible." Slate and Rutger University's David Greenberg summarizes the history of health care reform, and of the epithet "socialized medicine." "[T]he idea of government-run health care dates to the Progressive Era. Originally called 'compulsory health insurance,' it enjoyed favor in the 1910s among many quarters, including the American Medical Association...But as the debate heated up, doctors began to worry that it would hurt their incomes, and they banded with business groups like the National Association of Manufacturers to oppose reform. American entry into World War I tabled consideration of the issue, and the postwar Red Scare, Starr notes, 'buried it in an avalanche of anticommunist rhetoric.'"

"As the Hurricane Katrina anniversary coverage blows out to sea and New Orleans braces for another year of neglect, it's worth pausing to consider the fallout from the disaster that was previously deemed the worst in U.S. history -- the 1927 Mississippi flood." Slate's David Greenberg takes a moment to remember the big 1927 flood, which significantly altered New Era attitudes about the appropriate duties of the federal government (and will also play a significant role in the latter half of my dissertation.)

Listen up, Cornyn: "There never was a more vicious or insidious doctrine announced for the consideration of a free people than the doctrine that our constitution or any part of it is suspended during a state of war. Our constitution was made for war as well as peace. Equally vicious is the doctrine that you must disregard the guarantees of the constitution and trample upon our civil liberties in order to save the constitution...[W]e can never get anywhere if we resort to the theory that the minority has no rights which the majority is bound to respect or that the constitutional rights of the citizen must give way to some supposed emergency. I think the greatest service the true American can render to the cause of orderly liberty is to demonstrate in this critical situation that we can deal with every confronting situation and meet every emergency without violating or disregarding to the individual citizen any of his rights under our constitution. If we have reached the point where we cannot take care of the situation without resorting to arbitrary methods, to undefined official discretion, then the enemies of this government may well say that our system has proved a failure." -- Sen. William E. Borah, "Letter to Austin Simmons," January 21, 1920.

"Calamitous presidents, faced with enormous difficulties -- Buchanan, Andrew Johnson, Hoover and now Bush -- have divided the nation, governed erratically and left the nation worse off. In each case, different factors contributed to the failure: disastrous domestic policies, foreign-policy blunders and military setbacks, executive misconduct, crises of credibility and public trust. Bush, however, is one of the rarities in presidential history: He has not only stumbled badly in every one of these key areas, he has also displayed a weakness common among the greatest presidential failures -- an unswerving adherence to a simplistic ideology that abjures deviation from dogma as heresy, thus preventing any pragmatic adjustment to changing realities." As seen all over the place, historian Sean Wilentz wonders aloud in Rolling Stone if Dubya is the worst president in American history.

To my mind, the only other president that even comes close is James Buchanan. Sure, Warren Harding was lousy, but he knew it ("I am a man of limited talents from a small town. I don't seem to grasp that I am President."), and thus didn't go out of his way to be actively terrible like Bush has been. (Plus, for all the corruption of the Ohio gang, Harding's cabinet also included Charles Evans Hughes, Andrew Mellon, and Herbert Hoover, all impressive in their own right.) Speaking of Hoover, both he and Ulysses Grant have been given a bad shake. Even if the Depression basically ate his administration alive, Hoover -- once renowned as the "Great Engineer" -- was a more innovative president (and empathetic person) than he's often remembered. And Grant's administrations, although plagued by corruption, at the very least tried to maintain Reconstruction in the South. (In fact, I'd argue that Grant's sorry standing in presidential history is in a part a reflection of the low esteem in which Reconstruction was once held by the now-woefully obsolete Dunning School.) Regarding the other Reconstruction president, Andrew Johnson is assuredly down near the bottom too, but to be fair, he faced an almost impossible situation entering office in the time and manner he did, and -- as with Clinton -- his impeachment was a bit of a frame-job. And Richard Nixon, for all his many failings, had China (as well as the EPA despite himself, and, although it didn't pan out, the Family Assistance Plan.) Nope, I think it's safe to say that we may be experiencing perhaps the most blatantly inept, wrong-headed, and mismanaged presidency in the history of the republic. Oh, lucky us.

By the way, since people often ask me about it, and since I've been working on grant writing of late anyway, I've written up and html'ized a brief executive summary of my dissertation project. As always, subject to change...particularly the title. (Left-of-the-Colon probably isn't the best place for a The The pun.)