DemocratDad

The Values of Science

Telling the truth. Relying on evidence whenever possible. Parsimony (beautiful word!), i.e., going with the most simple explanation when given a choice. Always, always, turning to others to verify results.

And above all, the rejection of certainty and a corresponding commitment to revising one's thinking when faced with new facts.

Don't let anyone ever tell you that science does not have values.

I found this clip very moving. It's worth watching to the end.

 

The Debt Ceiling Double-Dare

A critical juncture... A high-stakes stand-off...

Insert your own attention-grabbing phrase here.

But this is not hyperbolic, I''m afraid. This is very real.

The obstructionist, anarchic members of the Tea Party are happily staring down President Obama, with nothing less than the Full Faith and Credit of the United States hanging in the balance.

The media talks about how the Republicans need a "fig leaf" so that they can end this. Some little concession from the President -- elimating the tax on medical devices in the Affordable Care Act? chained CPI for Medicare? approval of the XL Keystone pipeline? -- and the House Republicans, including the Tea Party, will spring into action, open the government, raise the debt ceiling. All will be good.

Without context, it sounds as if negotiation would be the natural move for both sides. When engaged in a stand-off, both parties should reach out, talk, compromise -- right? So it plays to the bias in our brain for symmetry (see Brain Bugs by Dean Buonomano for a brilliant description of some of the cognitive flaws that lurk in all of our brains).

That is exactly wrong. This goes to a fundamental principle in our constitutional democracy.

There are a few of these. Should we compromise, for example, on whether each citizen is entitled to a full vote? Of course not. Here the principle is less well known, but I would argue, at least as significant:

No elected officials should use the threat of doing economic harm to the United States as leverage to achieve policy goals. Ever.

This kind of threat (some have compared it to "terrorism," though I think that muddies the water) cannot be accomodated without seriously weakening the legislative process and rendering moot the opportunity for accountability that elections provide. It would bring our regular, zigzagging, incremental political process to a halt, and replace it with an endless struggle of... predator vs. prey.

All of the factions in the country would soon strive to overpower each other, the more radical their tactics the better. And for those of us who just so happen to live here? I'm afraid we would have to get used to hopping madly, like frightened animals, from crisis to crisis.

(See all of recorded history, for examples of this. It is important to remember that the limited success of representative democracy in the modern era is the exception not the rule.)

Republicans argue that they don't want to give up the leverage they have (i.e. threatening not to raise the debt ceiling) before negotiating with the President. That would be crazy, they insist.

But what they fail to see is that this is not valid leverage. The leverage that the Republicans (and the Democrats, and the President) should look for is what they have traditionally used in the legislative process: votes, favors, tit for tat, horse-trading, persuasion, public relations, obfuscation, sound bites that appeal to voters.

Those are the levers that an elected official is understood to have at his or her command. Lots of little switches. Not shutting off the power source altogether and smashing the instrument panel.

*

If any Republican reader still objects, let me propose this thought experiment...

President Obama has policy goals of his own, correct? One of them is to require purchasers of guns to undergo a background check, to prevent the mentally ill, or those with violent criminal records, from buying firearms. Most Republicans oppose this.

What, according to Republican logic on the debt ceiling, would prevent President Obama from refusing to sign ALL legislation, including raising the debt ceiling, or anything else, for the remainder of his Presidency, unless background checks are passed?

*

In other words, Republicans insist that their refusal to raise the nation's debt ceiling is their leverage to make changes. But they forget that this is not exclusively their leverage. The Democrats and President Obama have it at their disposal too! But they refuse to go there. Why? Because they understand that it is simply an invalid move in a constitutional democracy.

The media -- and our brains -- may get confused. But there is no "fig-leaf" concession that can be made on this. If the Republicans do not raise the debt ceiling, and the U.S. defaults on its debts, and we inflict an economic downturn or even a recession on ourselves, then we will enter a very dangerous and painful period in our national history. But if it happens, then the blame will fall squarely on the Republican members of the House of Representatives.

Making concessions now, in order to placate the Tea Party Caucus or anybody else, will only mean that this default will come later rather than now. At some point, preferably earlier, the validity of the attempt itself must end.

*

I hope President Obama concedes nothing.

Let them know that politics, in a republic such as ours, must be waged in the language of compromise and trade-off and cost-benefit analysis.

Ours is not an absolutist system; the absolutists and anarchists in the Republican Party and the Tea Party will have to be taught that. Paradoxically, the President will have to teach them that by the strength of his defense of one of representative democracy's few absolute principles.

(By the way, I'm glad President Obama knows his Lincoln; this was the paradox of that presidency too.)

My Open Letter to Andrew Sullivan at the Daily Dish

Dear Andrew,

I have been reading The Dish for a long time -- at least a decade.

An aspect of your character that I have long admired is your urge always to seek MORE information, rather than less. Over and over, you demonstrate a willingness to consider -- and share with your readers -- a wide range of commentary on any given topic. I believe that I have been influenced, for the better, by your unfailing generosity and fair-mindedness to those who hold positions different than yours.

So. Encouraged by this sense I have of your strong character (namely, that you won't get offended by what I'm going to say, but on the contrary will understand it correctly as meant with respect) well, I'm going to come right out with it:

The religious aspects of your blog are, I am sorry to say, beginning to discredit the rest of it for me.

In the past, as you might expect, I was able to cordon off your religiosity from your political commentaries and philosophical musings.

To each his own, right?

I just skipped over the stuff about God and faith altogether. (Unless, of course, you were denouncing "Christianists" or exposing Muslim fanaticism, or something else we could agree on...) 

But now I am finding that I can't cordon your religious beliefs off. And I have a feeling that this development may be bigger than you or me.

This is why I am sharing it with you, Andrew. You follow the zeitgeist better than anyone I know. And as I say, I am convinced there's... something happening here...

Atheism is growing up, I think.

As many people like me are moving away from any need to grapple with religious thinking, I suspect that our frame of reference is changing accordingly. It reminds me of the gay marriage debate, how fast it turned.

All that religious stuff, even the formerly interesting dialogues you hosted or provoked, between people of "faith" and those skeptical of it... it seems more and more, well, silly. A waste of time.

Just for moment, put yourself in the position of readers like me.

There's this blog that you really, really enjoy... But the writer happens to be a devotee of... Zeus.

Zeus? Yep. Takes it quite seriously too.

It would embarrass you, would it not?

In 2013, if someone you respect greatly did this? 

You might begin to read that blog with a kind of squint, hoping that there would be none of that high-minded writing about Zeus and Apollo and Athena in it. Right?

Come on, Andrew. Join us.

Let go of the old Bronze age myths and fables, in the generous and thoughtful way that you generally do things. Prove to me that you can recognize bullshit when you see it.

With respect,

Tom

FOLLOW-UP TO THIS POST:

Andrew Sullivan has been writing often in recent weeks about Pope Francis. I wrote Sullivan an email on this "extraordinary Pope" -- seen from an atheist perspective, and he quoted it in full!

Once again, evidence of Sullivan's willingness to consider and publish opposing viewpoints.

I talk about elves, not Zeus, this time, but my words are just as blunt as in this earlier "open letter." Here's the link. I'm the "atheist" reader who starts: "It is strange, being a non-believer..."

I will confess. I still worry about the bullshit quotient, but I can't quit reading Sullvan's blog because of its wide-ranging intellectual and cultural curiosity... and because he writes so damn well and with such heart.

What Will Happen If...

As we approach the end of October, anxiety levels are rising all over the world.

On the one hand... there's the world, worrying about the consequences of a possible Mitt Romney victory on November 6.

On the other hand, there are some 100 million or so Republican and Tea Party and Libertarian voters scattered across the United States, worrying about the prospect of the re-election of President Barack Obama.

Aside from our mutually rising anxiety levels, though, what are the actual stakes in this election? Both sides agree that it is the Most. Important. Ever. But what specifically are we worried about?

For a good article that spells out the scenarios for post-January 20, 2013, in terms of economic policy, see Jonathan Chait's article in New York Magazine. In brief, Romney could very well pass the Ryan budget through reconciliation (requiring only a majority in the Senate) and rewrite tax laws favoring the wealthy and corporate interests. On the contrary Obama could very likely manage to raise taxes on the wealthy; he may be able to institute a version of Bowles-Simpson. He will have leverage he has never had before to do all this, because of the so-called "fiscal cliff" built into last year's Debt Ceiling resolution (a particulaly ingenious strategic move, according to Chait so long as he is re-elected).

Those are big stakes.

But I want to focus on all of the other aspects of Romney and Obama's contrasting agendas. Other than the economy, what else will be affected?

1. Our Sense of American Identity Will be Splintered under a Romney Presidency.

Over the past four years President Obama has nurtured a sense of America as a pluralistic, tolerant place, in which the prejudices of yesteryear are backgrounded and a sense of our common good is foregrounded. But this worldview may be threatened by a more us-vs.-them mentality under a Romney presidency. Mitt Romney believes, and has said as much, that religious faith and freedom are inseparable. So, we have to assume, nonbelievers will not be highy valued in the public arena (while believers certainly will be -- God references will no doubt abound, even more than ever, in speeches). Meanwhile, gays and lesbians will be relegated to second-class status again, possibly leading to a concerted effort to enact a Constitutional amendment to ban same-sex marriage. Futhermore, the poorest in our country, those most struggling, will be understood to be failures -- those "victims" of the 47% -- rather than our worthy fellow citizens with their backs against the wall. Immigrants, particularly those with brown-skin, will of course be seen to be suspect (see Romney's endorsement of the Arizona state law empowering police to ask for I.D. if under the impression that someone is possibly undocumented).

2. The Denial of Climate Change Will Go On

President Obama did not manage to pass Cap-and-Trade. But at least his administration has funded green technologies more than any other President. Romney mocks such efforts, as he did in his Convention speech. He celebrates traditional energy resources, and urges the nation to expoit them fully (implying falsely, as he well knows, that this will lower prices at the pump, when in fact oil and gas prices are set by world demand -- rising).

3. The End of Truth-Telling

As we know from his decade-long campaign, Romney does not value truth-telling very highly. He values achieving ends (which, to be fair, he no doubt considers good). His religion blurs the distinction between truth and fables intentionally -- Mormons do not dwell often on the specifics of their creed and its truth-claims. It is no surprise that Romney fits so well in the culture of Bain Capital: he is a salesman at heart, willing to say almost anything to close a deal. President Obama, on the other hand, has demonstrated a remarkable ability to speak honestly about the decisions he faces. He often explains the trade-offs and chain of thoughts that led him to a certain policy choice. It doesn't help so much politically (Americans, like all human beings on the planet, respond more to sound-bites and catchy one-liners). But it has set a tone for our political culture all the same. This progress will be wiped out.

4. Health Care

My wife will lose her health care (she has a pre-existing condition) under a President Romney, and we will face cancer without any help again. This will be difficult for our family. But many millions of other Americans will suffer far more than we do. Children will lose their parents. Parents will lose their children. People will lose their houses, their employment, their basic dignity, as they face misery and illness without any help from their fellow-citizens.

5. Education

College loans, Pell Grants, all of that will be cut deeply under the Ryan plan if it is passed.

6. Science

Investments in science and technology will decline -- to make way for that Romney/Ryan tax refrom favoring the wealthy.

...So don't go telling me that both parties are the same and your vote doesn't make a difference.

These are some of the reasons I am worried. How about you?

The Convention Speech Obama Would Give (If He Could Be Honest Without Losing the Election)

Ladies and gentlemen. Democrats, Republicans, Independents, Americans of all political persuasions.

Perhaps this speech will help me in my campaign to serve as your President for another four years, or perhaps not.

Either way, I believe it is important for me to tell it to you straight, from one citizen to another.

Tonight I want to speak to you, very frankly, about the central challenge facing our country in the coming years.

I am going to speak about a fear that every politician confronts every day but never gives voice to...

I am going to talk to you tonight about the fear that America, our great country, may be in decline.

*

My dear fellow Americans, it will come as no surprise for you to hear that we face immense obstacles in the way of our economic recovery.

What has come to be called the Great Recession, which began in 2008, took a terrible toll... In the winter of 2009 when I took office, as you will remember, over 750,000 people were losing their jobs each month.

Through the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act (the "Stimulus") we managed to stop the free fall, to give it a floor. We did this by a combination of tax cuts and also investments that led to some minimal job growth.

As you know we also passed a significant health care insurance reform bill in 2010, the Affordable Care Act ("Obamacare"), aimed at helping the long-term health but also the financial stability of the citizens of this country as well.

Yet these measures weren't enough.

Joblessness continues at over 8% to this day. Housing prices have refused to bounce back -- and it has been six years from their peak in 2006. Gas prices are stubbornly rising, and, more recently, food prices have begun to climb too. Medical insurance rates still strain our finances, for businesses and individuals alike.

These are tough times...but I don't have to tell you that.

You know it far more viscerally than I do.

*

I believe that things may improve over the next four years. I believe in the policies put in place by my administration.

But despite my hopes for improvements, I am aware of the obstacles that remain. The pressures are too real for me to tell you, breezily, that conditions will improve dramatically. Other difficulties surely await us in the coming years and decades...

The truth is, my fellow Americans, we have to face it: we are looking at a long and, likely, unavoidable contraction of the personal wealth and expectations of citizens of the United States over the next century, any way you look at it.

*

Why is this happening?

Is this a Democratic failure?

A Republican conspiracy?

No.

Let us go back and look at the big picture together. To do that we have to step outside of our familiar, short-term, partisan thinking and look all the way back to the last century.

After World War II, our big, beautiful, brazen country benefited from a massive industrial base, built up in the beginning of the century; an explosion in technology, much of it invented here; and most of all, cheap, available fossil fuels. Our obvious competitors in Europe and Asia, crushed and broken from both world wars, lagged behind us in their capacity to find new markets and develop new technologies. We stepped up, quite naturally, and the United States soon became a colossus, standing astride the world nearly unchallenged.

Only the statism of the Soviet Empire, at great cost to the lives of individuals, could compete with us on a global scale in economic, political and cultural power. And that monolith eventually collapsed -- in a series of events beginning with the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 and ending with the Putsch in Russia in 1992. It became a victim of its own weight, its repression, the stagnation of its ideas, its inefficient centralized planning.

What happened in the 20 years since the collapse of the U.S.S.R.? Where are the blessings of our victory in the Cold War? 

Why aren't we standing astride the world as before?

Well, in some sense we still are. No other country comes close to having our power and influence. But the world is catching up, as is evident to every one of us.

Workers and governments all around the world are building up middle classes in their own countries, in which their own management practices are meeting their own natural resources, in ways similar to ours.

Meanwhile our dependence on foreign oil left us more vulnerable to events in the Mideast and led us to overextend our military in multiple wars (with various justifications).

And perhaps most significantly, over the past 30-some years, U.S. companies (driven by the requirement, imposed by their shareholders, of ever-increasing annual growth) have exported jobs overseas.

The loyalty of the capitalist elite in this country to their own fellow-citizens has grown ever more... imaginary.

And the security of American workers -- both blue-collar and white-collar -- has become likewise more... imaginary.

All of this is to say that the quality of life we came to expect here in the United States in the late 20th century: solid public schools, solid infrastructure, cheap electricity, inexpensive in-state tuition at state colleges, retirement at 65 with Social Security and Medicare paying our bills while we play golf and visit grandkids and leaf through photo-albums during our "golden" years... it's no longer sustainable.

The dream-life of Americans in the last century, as accustomed as it became to us, was in fact just that, a dream.

*

It lasted a good 70 years or so. It was a wonderful boon for our country. It allowed for new social movements, civil rights, women's rights, massive change for the better in our ideas of ourselves and the world in which we live. But it was, nevertheless, an illusion to think that it would just go on like that forever.

The rest of the world, outside the First World, never knew this kind of comfort and self-satisfaction that we did. Most human beings around the world understand that our basic condition is one of want and insecurity. Each of us, however dignified and beautiful and kind and full of integrity and intelligent we are, adds, if truth be told, only a limited amount of value to others. Enough to be paid a small wage for a service or a product, that's all. (Even you George Clooney, even you Martha Stewart, even you, Larry Ellison, even you Meg Whitman -- though you have leveraged your value added, by way of modern technology, into something disproportionately lucrative.)

Certainly each of us does not contribute enough to maintain manicured lawns even in drought conditions, eat rare foods and drink fine wine, purchase second homes, enjoy unquestioned central heating in the winter and air-conditioning in the summer and endless entertainment... have two or three family cars in our garage... It was an astonishing era, my fellow citizens, for those of us in the middle and upper classes in the Western industrialized countries -- above all, for those of us living in America. It is ending.

For many Americans, it has already ended.

*

I do not say all this to depress you or discourage you. I say it because I want to have a candid conversation with you.

The fact is: we are not going back. We are going to be forced to reduce our expectations and our government expenditures, no matter what.

Defense spending must be cut.

Waste and redundancies must be eliminated.

Discretionary programs, things like PBS, Head Start, I would argue need not be cut -- should not be cut -- they are too small to make a difference anyway.

But there will still be the problem of the entitlement programs: namely, Social Security and Medicare.

Social Security is solvent for some 50 years -- so let's leave that one alone for now. We may have to address it later.

Medicare, though, is teetering on the edge. Everyone agrees: it isn't going to make it in the long term. The costs of care are too high. The elderly are living longer, and, moreover, the medical system has bizarre incentives in place, leading to unnecessary tests and expensive procedures instead of more common-sense preventive care and simple, family-centered, end-of-life care. 

What can we do?

*

Governor Romney and Congressman Ryan have suggested that we could create a system of private vouchers -- instead of a single-payer system like the one we have today. That approach would probably lead to reduced benefits (one estimate is a reduction of about $6000 per recipient).

Some say: well, at least each individual could make his or her own choices about what medical care to pay for out of pocket when the vouchers run out... That's something isn't it?

I would answer: That may be something, but it is not an acceptable something. Making your own decision not to buy a chemotherapy drug, one that you know will help you live a year longer, because you don't want to face foreclosure before that year is out...? Because your child has Downs Syndrome and needs special resources so that your spouse can leave home to work? No, that future is clearly not acceptable.

Or we could spread the risk and insure the whole population. This would mean, in effect, that younger, healthier Americans would fund the health care of sicker Americans, particularly the elderly.

Such a change to Medicare -- altering it from an "earned benefit" to a tax -- would no doubt cause resentment, particularly in difficult economic times such as we face into the foreseeable future. Over time, would such a change delegitimize government in people's eyes? Would it foster even deeper cynicism than we have today?

GIven these difficult choices, I'll be honest with you, I am not sure what we should do. All I know is that hese are the difficult choices we face, together.

But I can tell you: I do know that we should not -- we cannot -- simply privatize Medicare and throw people back on the mercy of their own incomes or net worth.

I believe that equal access to health care should be something we ensure for one another -- as fellow Americans, as neighbors, as human beings.

In my role as President I find that the theme that confronts me on almost an hourly basis is fairness. I believe that we should be as fair as possible in deciding how to ensure that every American, rich or poor, has access to basic health care.

*

Here's the good news. We have entered an era in human history -- some 10,000 years after the advent of agriculture -- where we are finally learning to overlook the trivial ethnic or religious differences which have long driven us apart and made enemies of us. 

Whether black or white or Latino or Asian or Christian or Muslim or Jewish or Buddhist or nontheist (the fastest-growing part of the population, by the way), gay or straight, young or old, Northern or Southern... we are all capable of abiding by the laws of a pluralistic, democratic state.

Let's do that. Let's agree to have our enemies be: disease, hunger, climate change, cruelty, war, cancer, accidents, bullying, betrayals, losses, depression, things like that. Not the old prejudices and fears and stereotypes and hatreds.

Our only chance of getting through this is that we get through this together.

*

Okay. That gives you an accurate picture of where I am coming from. I will work every day for the next four years, if you give me the honor of serving as your President again, to make this country as great as it possibly can be.

Who knows, perhaps with the aid of unforeseen technological break-throughs -- never underestimate the ingenuity of human beings, especially in this new age of cloud computing -- we will reverse the tide of America's decline.

Inexpensive, unlimited energy would be a start.

Certainly, as your President, I will do everything I can possibly do to lead us to a brighter future.

But at the very least we can be together in it, keep things fair, speak openly with one another along the way.

*

That may be all we have. It has to be enough. And I believe it is enough.

I will remind you: The greatness of the United States of America has never been measured by its wealth, but by its people.

We the people. One nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. Nothing about golf memberships in there. Nothing about luxury cars. We can do this.

*

Thank you and goodnight. I love you all.

[Waves goodbye to stunned crowd.]

Paul Ryan's Vision Thing

So we have a Republican ticket now: Romney Ryan 2012.

What strikes me about the roll-out of Paul Ryan so far is how grand and high-minded his speeches are: he speaks about the "mountain of debt" that awaits our nation if we follow our current path. He promises to tell the American people the unvarnished truth and to lead. Ryan seems not to be focussed so much on our immediate needs (jobs, access to healthcare, better schools, etc.). Instead, his gaze is directed at the distant horizon. He seeks to restore our faith in the Founders' guidng principles of freedom and self-reliance. He speaks of the "consent of the governed." Whatever else you can say about him, Ryan definitely has what George H.W. Bush famously called "the vision thing."

Two points about this:

1. It is attractive and stirring, even while we know it is unreal (and more than that, fraudulent; see Krugman). But how about the nitty-gritty of people's lives? How about a sense of modesty in our predictions for the future? Ryan's relentless focus on, and certainty about, the far-off future reminds me, incongruously, of the Soviet Union's 5-year plans. Bold, aspirational, but not very attune to the immediate needs of actual people.

Ryan's tone makes me wonder if he has been so steeped in Ayn Randian/Hayekian, right-leaning political philosophy that he has fallen a bit in love with ideas instead of staying observant to the facts on the ground. I guess this is exactly what we mean when we label someone "ideological." Ryan certainly fits that description, doesn't he? Further, I think his ideological bent -- his love for his ideas -- matches well with the "ideology" that drives Romney: namely, American exceptionalism (rooted in his Mormon faith). Both Ryan and Romney are insulated from reality -- in different but complimentary ways. Hence, perhaps, their easy rapport, their recognition of each other, despite the many differences in their backgrounds.

2. Ryan's visionary quality -- the crystal-clear narrative that drives his political outlook -- makes more obvious, by way of contrast, the absence of a clear narrative in President Obama's political outlook. We often observe how pragmatic and modest President Obama is in his politics, how willing he is to compromise, his relentless search for solutions, his non-ideological approach, goodbye-to-all-that, etc. And we celebrate this aspect of his politics. (Well, I do anyway.) 

But the flip side of this is that we must acknowledge that for all his policy achievements, President Obama lacks a grand vision for where this country is heading. This isn't really a criticism. I don't fault him for this; I think it is difficult, maybe impossible, to find a clear narrative in the current era of globalization and resource depletion and the resulting economic turmoil. But it is interesting to ask: What does President Obama, privately, see as the optimal future for America?

I would guess that he sees a tumultuous century ahead, in which the way of life to which we are accustomed, astride the world as the country with the highest standard of living, will face unavoidable decline. The Western industrialized world is undergoing a Great Contraction -- that's how I think of it. To the extent that he has a vision, then, it is that Obama wants to ensure a modicum of fairness during this time of loss and falling away. He wants the government to help the poorest and the middle-class maintain at least some opportunities -- adequate schools, access to healthcare, a safe and clean environment, etc. -- slivers of light, through which they may follow their dreams and improve their families' conditions. Not too inspiring -- these slivers of light; yet considering the obstacles, even this is a very ambitious goal. A goal, but not a vision.

In some ways the 2012 election will come down to what people want more: specific help for their immediate future or... a clear, baby blue-eyed narrative, unburdened by pesky things like specifics.

Extra! Extra! Mitt Romney's Core Revealed!

As Romney the candidate looks to lock up the Republican nomination, the task before us is to figure out, once and for all, what lies at the core of Mitt Romney the man.

No, no, ambition and wealth-acquisition don't count. They are mere means to an end.

The question is: What does this man really care about, deep down inside?

It occurred to me on Tuesday night, as I watched his speech following the results in New Hampshire, that Mitt Romney's core is right in front of our eyes -- and has been all along. It is consistent with his record. It is consistent with his rhetoric. It is consistent with his biography. Come to think of it, this may be the one consistent thing about him.

Mitt Romney has at his core a fervent belief in American exceptionalism, rooted in his religion. He is, above all, a good Mormon missionary.

When I say he is a good Mormon missionary I am not saying that he wants to convert all Americans or all of the citizens of the world to his religion (although of course he would not be opposed to such an outcome). What I am saying is that he is a good Mormon missionary in that he truly believes that America is the exceptional nation, the nation of destiny that, as Joseph Smith learned in 1832, will host Jesus when he returns to Jackson County, Missouri. This was taught to him at a very young age through the teachings of his Church.

What I heard on Tuesday night in New Hampshire, is the deep-seated,  deeply felt, American exceptionalism that flows from this core belief. You hear it in Romney's frequent and animated attacks on President Obama's "apology tour" (which of course never happened). You hear it in Romney's fear that America might borrow ideas from socialistic Europe. You hear it in his insistence that as President he will make America "America" again.

We are the special nation. His religion tells him so.

This is more than the typical patriotic bromides you hear on a nightly basis from, say, Sean Hannity. As I say, I suspect that Romney's American exceptionalism is rooted in the faith, inculcated in Mitt since he was a young boy, that America is the chosen nation of God, and the fate of the world rests on America's difference.

As we know, the Evangelical wing of the Republican Party has become increasingly fierce in its allegiance to Israel, partly because of its Biblical understanding that the Jews should live in the holy land. Well, for Mormons like Mitt Romney, America too has its Zion, and must be protected from all interference by outsiders. 

Despite the doubts about the "cult" of Mormonism among Chrisitanists in the South, this is where the America First rhetoric of the right, with its hyper-militarism and xenophobia, dovetails perfectly with Romney's religious-based American exceptionalism.

What does this all mean for President Obama's campaign?

It strikes me that President Obama must counter this one genuine aspect of Romney -- the core of the man -- with a serious effort to define a different kind of patriotism. If Romney is to resonate with the voters, god forbid, it will be based on this shared sentiment that America is a chosen land. President Obama needs to define the ways that he believes America to be exceptional too -- as a land of opportunity, of rights, of fairness, not based on a tale of Gold Plates and Rapture but on real stakes for real people.

 

 

Emotional Release vs. Tangible Results

So I have begun volunteering for the Obama re-election campaign. I am what is called a "Fall Fellow" for Organizing for America. My "turf" is my own neighborhood in North Berkeley.

One of my tasks, as a Fall Fellow, is to defend the administration against its critics.

In most parts of the country this would mean defending President Obama against Republicans, Tea Partiers, Libertarians and reactionaries of all stripes. Not in Berkeley, though. Here it means defending this administration against the criticisms leveled at it by the Left.

I call potential volunteers and supporters on the phone. I nearly lose it. I have to pace the room, take some deep breaths, just to collect myself.

Our politics are very similar. Our perspectives are drastically different.

The common complaint on the left is that President Obama needs to be more forceful. That he compromises, or "caves," to the Republicans too early. I'm sorry, but this complaint pisses me off. Of course I can't say that over the phone, but it does.

Let's just review the facts. In the first year and a half of his term, President Obama passed the stimulus bill over Republican objections, fought for universal health care and achieved it with the Affordable Care Act, signed a new treaty with Russia reducing and securing nuclear stockpiles, signed financial reform, credit card reform, dealt with the BP oil spill, and generally demonstrated nerves of steel at every step of the way. Then the midterm elections, in November of 2010, sent many Democratic representatives in the House and Senate home; the ones who stayed ran for cover. He was forced to temporarily extend the Bush tax cuts in order to extend payroll tax cuts to the middle class and extend unemployment benefits. The winds have been against him ever since, with the Republicans playing with nothing less than the full faith and credit of the United States in order to score political points.

This is a President who is being pummeled by charlatans who want above all to see him defeated. And yet he has persisted, at every opportunity, to fight for the interests of the American people. He has refused to take the easy path and demonize and antagonize further his opponents. Instead he has spoken constantly, unceasingly, in the language of democracy, the language of civility and shared sacrifice and the common good. This takes enormous strength. To call President Obama weak is to fundamentally misread the situation.

What it really comes down to is that many of the people I speak with in Berkeley want him to pound the podium, call the Republicans on their imbecility and mendacity, announce to one and all that he will never waver, never buckle, never crack, never give an inch.

Well, I'm here to tell you, that kind of bluster would accomplish nothing. I would rather have a President who has the country in mind and does everything in his power to help his fellow Americans during this difficult time, including taking a beating and refusing to stoop as low as his opponents.

Faced with economic uncertainty and fear, many people want emotional release. Hell, I want emotional release. President Obama, though? He wants tangible results.

I'm In

This is the new slogan for the Obama for America campaign: I'm in.

And for me it is doubly true. I'm in as a volunteer on the campaign. I'm in, as in back in the game.

As anyone who has read this blog knows, the past four years have been strenuous for me and my family. But we are coming out of it. My wife Renee is doing well, her cancer's in remission (we believe it is gone forever), we are finally insured (through the Affordable Care Act -- thank you Mr. President! Thank you Speaker Pelosi and Majority Leader Reid!), and we are beginning to reenter the world again.

The kids are older (7,5 and 4), and they are perfect, beautiful. The demands on me as Dad are lightening every so slighly. So in addition to teaching a class on Shakespeare at their school, and while I'm still working on that memoir based on our road-trip to the childhood homes of Presidents, I have recently volunteered with the Obama campaign, building neighborhood teams.

My two-day training last weekend was truly inspiring. The stakes are so high, massive wealth and the control of nuclear warheads turn on the office in question, and yet the staff of the Oakland Obama for America office is down-to-earth, patient, smart, genuine. All through the training, they let us Fall Fellows ask questions, pursue tangents, to our hearts' content. They talked about respect, listening, including everybody -- in short, the values that the President himself demonstrates every day.

If this is how reentering the outside world feels, after 4 years away from it, let me just say: I'm in.

Let the Games Begin!

So Obama delivered his SOTU last night. "We do big things" was the message. The specifics were few but he touched on clean energy. Better schools. Tax code reform. Oh, and the state of the Union is... wait for it... strong.

Why this speech, filled with generalities? We know this President is capable of far more penetrating insight into the country and the policies needed to fix it. Why did he give us this pabulum instead?

The answer, I think, is that this was not a speech; it was an effort to get positioned well for the 2012 campaign. Forget the policy prescriptions last night. What Obama wanted to do was establish one thing, and one thing only: I AM THE PRESIDENT TO ALL AMERICANS.

For two years he has been demonized and "othered" by Fox and the Tea Partiers. Many of them, particularly in the South, a hard-core 20% in the polls, will detest him and question his legitimacy regardless (because he is in the "Democrat Party," because he is black, because he is "an elitist", etc.). But for the middle 40%, he needs to show that he shares the same concerns they do.

Details would get in the way of this effort. So he focused on the one thing that every living, breathing person cannot deny is in his or her interest: the future. "This is how we will win the future!" he exhorted us.

Win the future? Like a lottery ticket? Or a war? Or a new car? The phrase leaves me uneasy; it dredges up with it the same zero-sum, me-first outlook on life that got us into this mess in the first place.

Still, it gets us looking in the same direction, all Americans. And certainly President Obama will have the advantage over his divisive opponents anytime the country is looking the same direction.

Let the games begin.

The Death of a Doctor

On this day, one day after the murder of Dr. George Tiller, I urge everyone who happens to read this to reflect on the costs imposed on our world -- our complicated, ever-changing, crowded, contentious world, all that we have -- by ideology.  I think of the lives lost because of adherence to ideologies of all kinds (including those ideologies like religion which are still largely shielded from criticism by social taboos).

This woman's personal remembrance of Dr. George Tiller is moving because it is so specific, about how he helped her and her mother and others she knows.  He was a doctor; he healed people.  He died yesterday before his natural end.

I Heart Iowa

Iowa, what a run that state is having.  

First there was Senator Barack Obama's victory in the Caucus last January, which transformed the Democratic primary race and enabled Obama's ultimate election to the Presidency.  

Now this from the Iowa Supreme Court, striking down a ban on same-sex marriage:

"Therefore, with respect to the subject and purposes of Iowa's marriage laws, we find that the plaintiffs are similarly situated compared to heterosexual persons... Moreover, official recognition of their status provides an institutional basis for defining their fundamental relational rights and responsibilities... Society benefits [italics mine, I just like the directness of this phrase]... In short, for purposes of Iowa's marriage laws, which are designed to bring a sense of order to the legal relationships of committed couples and their families in myriad ways, plaintiffs are similarly situated in every important respect..."

We all benefit from acknowledging and honoring the love between others.  The full ruling can be found at

http://www.iowacourts.gov/Supreme_Court/Recent_Opinions/20090403/07-1499.pdf

 

The Gordian Knot of the Current Crisis

Brilliant article in the Nation magazine today by Jonathan Schell. An excerpt:

All the crises are characterized by double standards, which everywhere block the way to solutions. One group of nations, led by the United States, lays claim to the lion's share of the world's wealth, to an exclusive right to possess nuclear weapons, to a disproportionate right to pollute the environment and even to a dominant position in world councils, while everyone else is expected to accept second-class status. But since solutions to all the crises must be global to succeed, and global agreement can only be based on equity, the path to success is cut off. Finally, all the crises display one more common feature: all have been based on the wholesale manufacture of delusions. The operative word here is "bubble." A bubble, in the stock market or anywhere, is a real-world construct based on fantasies. When the fantasy collapses, the construct collapses, and people are hurt. Disillusion and tangible harm go together: as imaginary wealth and power evaporate, so does real wealth and power. The equity exposed as worthless was always phony, but real people really lose their jobs. The weapons of mass destruction in the invaded country were fictitious, but the war and the dying are actual. The "safety" provided by nuclear arms is waning, if it ever existed, but the holocaust, when it comes, though fantastical, will be no fantasy. The "limits on growth" were denied, but the oil reserves didn't get the message. The "uncertainty" about global warming--cooked up by political hacks and backed by self-interested energy companies--is fake, but the Arctic ice is melting anyway.

Read the whole thing.

The Values Shared by Science and Democracy

Great column in the New York Times today, Evaluating Science, Evaluating Democracy.

The argument:

...not only does [science] not provide any values of its own, say its detractors, it also undermines the ones we already have, devaluing anything it can’t measure, reducing sunsets to wavelengths and romance to jiggly hormones. It destroys myths and robs the universe of its magic and mystery.

So the story goes.

But this is balderdash. Science is not a monument of received Truth but something that people do to look for truth.

That endeavor, which has transformed the world in the last few centuries, does indeed teach values. Those values, among others, are honesty, doubt, respect for evidence, openness, accountability and tolerance and indeed hunger for opposing points of view. These are the unabashedly pragmatic working principles that guide the buzzing, testing, poking, probing, argumentative, gossiping, gadgety, joking, dreaming and tendentious cloud of activity — the writer and biologist Lewis Thomas once likened it to an anthill — that is slowly and thoroughly penetrating every nook and cranny of the world.

Nobody appeared in a cloud of smoke and taught scientists these virtues. This behavior simply evolved because it worked...

It is no coincidence that these are the same qualities that make for democracy and that they arose as a collective behavior about the same time that parliamentary democracies were appearing. If there is anything democracy requires and thrives on, it is the willingness to embrace debate and respect one another and the freedom to shun received wisdom. Science and democracy have always been twins.

On My Father on the Occasion of his Birthday

Now that I am one myself, I look differently on fathers.  I see that there is not a one-size-fits-all perfect model of fatherhood.  Dads have so many roles, and these roles turn out to be unique to each family, shaped by the ever-changing dynamics in each home.  I look at other fathers with curiosity: how does he do it?  What identity -- as a husband, as a parent, as a man -- has he created for himself as the years progressed?

But there is one thing which I believe all fathers share, one thing we all feel: it is a father's first job to protect his children from harm, in so far as is possible.  There is a deep predator-defense response at work in every Dad's brain.  You mess with my kid, and I will spring into action.  What do I need to do?

Today is the 67th birthday of my own father, George.  He lives with my Mom, in Berkeley, only a few minutes away by car, in the same home in which I grew up in from age 1.  He walks down the hill to my house spontaneously at least once a week, drops in to say hi. Occasionally we meet for lunch.  I see him in person every other day or so: a nod, a handshake, a brief exchange of some observation, an aside, a quick laugh which comes unbidden and ends with a smile.  He is a continuous presence in my life and the life of my wife and children.

This year his son has experienced more strain than ever before.  My wife was diagnosed with cancer in January of 2008, and the headwinds that we have marched into since then have included surgeries, hospital stays, falls, infections, children's ups and downs, chemotherapy, fear, bills, financial stress, the natural anxiety and confusion which all of this has brought.  Through all of it, my Dad has been there.  He sprang into action, and in his own quiet way he has been defending me and my family all year, without interruption.

This is the core of fatherhood.  As a Dad I see that now.  You are there for your children, without show, without expectation of return, and without interruption.  It must take its toll on my father.  Certainly this year was not how he imagined his 67th year, which happened to be the first full year since he accepted (reluctantly) the designation "retired."  But he has taken it on, never made me feel that I have burdened him with it, and he has been there for me and my family every day.  I have felt it.  I am stronger because of it.

Thank you Dad.  Happy birthday.  

The Crooked Timber of Democracy

As a voter, I have the dream that someday my President will actually speak for me. 

Not just the vote I represent, not just my demographic... No.   I mean someone who truly represents my values, my perspective on the world.  Sure, his or her specific policy proposals, the timing of his agenda, etc. may surprise me in the short term.  But ultimately we would want the same things.

Barack Obama comes pretty damn close to being this dream candidate.  I felt privileged to vote for him.  And I'm still elated that he won.  From reading his books to watching him on TV, I have had every indication that he believes in the intrinsic worth of each person, whether living in this country or anywhere in the world -- values to which I aspire too.   

It should follow from this belief -- shouldn't it? -- that every person is irreducible and worthy of equal treatment.   And indeed, all during the campaign, I noticed it in Obama's smallest gesture, or in his tone of voice: he treats people from all different nationalities, cultures, backgrounds, with respect.  He cares about being a father, more than anything else. Hey, I thought, this guy expresses my highest ideals!  

That's why I feel as if I have been kicked in the stomach.

I learned today that President-Elect Obama has invited Rick Warren of the Saddleback Church in California to give the "invocation" at the inauguration next month.  This is the first fissure in my dream... and so the disillusionment begins. Or more exactly, here's where I am reminded that in a democratic country we should never expect perfect accord between our private ideals and the necessary public compromises which constitute our government. Our role as individual citizens is not to straighten the crooked timber of humanity, but to do our part to guide its growth in a favorable direction. 

Still, it hurts.

Why do I feel so strongly about Rick Warren?

Because:

1) Gays and lesbians should be able to marry like the rest of us.  Period.  Rick Warren is wrong on this. There is absolutely no coherent argument for two human beings, whatever their gender, not to be able to pledge their undying love for each other in a public fashion.  Marriage is not just a symbol; it is an act which changes everything.  It represents a reach into the infinite, beyond the span of our own lifetime.  is a place where our temporal laws (tax benefits, visiting rights at hospitals, etc.) point to something beyond time, where our nation, as a collection of citizens bound together by respect for laws, honors love, the highest of values.

2) I actually think Obama does not understand the sheer disregard shown in Rick Warren's attacks on the simple hope of gay and lesbian people to marry.  And that lacuna of understanding shows a serious blind spot in Obama's empathy towards others.  If this, then what other blind spots will he reveal in the next four years?  Will this have consequences in the way Obama wields power in the world?  Someone who cannot see the serious flaw in Rick Warren's ideology will possibly not see serious flaws in others' belief structures as well.  Barack Obama is tough -- I'm not disputing that.  He appears to be kind too.  But is he wise?

We'll see.  My demolusionment -- the distance between my own imaginings and things as they really must be in a pluralistic, democratic polity -- officially begins today.  

Parenting in a Crisis

I haven't been able to post to Democratdad very frequently this year for the simple reason that my family has been in a crisis.  My wife has been battling cancer.  And now we have this financial meltdown happening in the markets.  After all of our casual prognostications over the past years -- haven't you had these conversations? -- about how the Great Collapse is coming (brought on altenatively by peak oil, national debt, the ever-widening gap between rich and poor, erosion of the values of citizenship, etc.)... well, it's here.

For parents, our first thought is of our kids' future.  What world will they grow into?  What can we provide for them when we are increasingly worried about our everyday expenses?  Already the questions are becoming specific: Do we keep our kids in their expensive bilingual school because we believe (as we do) so strongly in the benefits of introducing them to a second language?  If we do keep them there, what else will we cut?  Piano classes?  Okay.  Meat?  That would be fine with me, but what about the kids needing protein (I'm obsessed with it, ask my wife)?... Should we forego heating the house this winter?  Sounds okay now, how will it sound in February?  

Will we have to move from our house, which we love?  

We are all entering a new time of ever-harder trade-offs.  Actually I know that many people have been living in this time for many years. It's new to me.  I'm still getting used to parenting in a crisis.  And this experience gives me already an even greater appreciation for parents all across this country and all over the world who are living with scarce resources (far worse than I will ever know).  I can say, based on my experiences this year, that there is nothing to make you lose sleep at night more than fear for your children's futures.

If this crisis had happened before I became a parent it would be different.  But as a dad I have to stretch my imagination far into the future to anticipate my childrens' needs 5, 10, 20, hell 65 years from now.  I'm not used to it.  This crisis is not just a thing which will impact me now, but something to reckon with our whole lives.  I feel myself needing to grow, and growing, but not sure how.

Sarah Palin, Contemporary Culture, and Being "Out of Touch"

As a dad, I am torn between wanting to introduce my children to the world as it is, on the one hand, and providing for them a vision of the world as I want it to be, on the other.  

The expressions of this conflict are trivial, but they are unending.  Should my wife and I expose our little ones to violent and overblown movies like the  Pirates of the Caribbean series, even though we didn't like them, just because their friends are talking about Jack Sparrow on the playground? Should we let them play with water machine-guns like the other kids in the pool, or watch old cowboy-and-Indian movies with damaging stereotypes in them, or use language like "That sucks!" at home?  

I mean, what's our problem?  Don't we want our kids to have a comfort-level with the world they actually live in? Sure, it's crass. It's violent. It's loud. It's rude. It's constantly trying to sell them something. So what?

Or do we protect them from all that, and instead keep their focus on Suzuki piano lessons, children-friendly poetry (here's a good one for kids!), nature walks, puzzles, with the hope of instilling in them a love for the kind of activities we think are preferable? Would that make them out of touch with their own culture?

The truth is that we don't live by our own standards.  After they go to bed you might find us indulging in some terrible, brain-numbing action movie which makes us feel happy.  So where do we draw the line for our kids?  At the ideal, or not at all, or somewhere in between?

It's a big question, and I find it gets bigger the more I think about it.  I look to people like Jon Stewart as possible models: now there's a guy who seems to immerse himself in our crass, consumerist, contemporary culture but is able to stand apart from it too.  I wonder how that translates into his parenting? 

Okay, what does this have to do with Sarah Palin?

Well, the appearance of Sarah Palin as McCain's VP jolted me back to this question about our relationship to our culture, and my responsiblities as a dad.  

Palin represents much of what I detest when I watch TV: that unearned, unreflective, confrontational style with no tolerance of ambiguity or nuance.

If you watch a "reality" show on TV these days, even the snob-sanctioned ones like Project Runway, you see little proto-Palins everywhere: supremely confident, competitive, basically mean people, sometimes laughing at themselves but mostly at others.

She's ignorant of the world and doesn't even care.

As our national politics devolves into a reality TV show I guess this is what we get: the beautiful African-American man with the serious way and the winning smile vs. the former beauty queen who describes herself as a "pitbull with lipstick."  Cue the music and the graphics: Project White House.  Season 44.  

The McCain campaign is attempting to diminish Obama by pitting these two cultural phenomena against each other (while suggesting subliminally that the gray-haired, crotchety war hero is the real choice among grown-ups). 

Obama is aware of this attempt to reduce him to a mere "personality" in a ratings-getting contest with Palin; that's why he and Biden are staying clear of her as best they can and keeping up the attacks on McCain's plan for the economy in the last few days.  But even if Obama's aware of it, he can't stop it.

So does my resistence to Sarah Palin show that I am "out-of-touch"?

That's why her emergence is clarifying for me.  It answers the dilemma I have as a dad about how to raise my kids in the midst of a trash culture.  It makes it obvious to me that the problem isn't the stuff all around us. The problem comes if we don't call it for what it is.

What Palin makes me see is that it's not the exposure to our crass culture that is the problem... it is the passive acceptance of it.  As long as we're talking freely and critically in our house we can watch whatever warped TV we like (well, okay, with some limits!).  It's all grist for the mill, as long as the children know it for that and only that and are still thinking for themselves.  Some would call this critical distance from the culture being "out of touch." I would call it being alive. Critical distance is what I want for my little ones. And it's what I want for my elected officials. 

It's Happening...

Remember when, day after day, week after week, Karl Rove made Al Gore -- brilliant, far-sighted, truthtelling Al Gore -- into a liar and an exaggerator?  

By the last weeks of the campaign of 2000, even though I knew it was all right-wing propaganda, I cringed every time I heard Gore say anything that could be misinterpreted as an exaggeration.  I came to associate this longtime public servant, this complicated person, with the baseless attacks on him.  They had just come so relentlessly, that the neural pathways in my brain locked me into a loop that I did not even believe.

Then came 2004.  That time I was more savvy.  I recognized it when it started.  There was a week when every day the Bush campaign repeated the word "flip-flop."  The substance of the issue shifted daily, even hourly, but the word always came with it.  Every spokesperson, every press release, used it.  And soon the media was discussing it, with creased brows.  Trying to be fair-minded, challenging the assumptions, but discussing it, using the word.  Within a month or so, about the time of the Democratic Convention, John Kerry, who had stayed resolute in his opposition to the Vietnam War, who had served in the Senate for so many years, who spoke commandingly and comprehensively in the debates on the issues facing this country, had been tagged: flip-flopper.  I didn't buy it, but I heard my brain echo it every time I saw his face or heard his voice.

Now they have determined the characterization of Obama that (they think) will win the election for McCain.  Rove has been brought back, and you can practically taste his icky presence on the back of your tongue (sorry for the image).  It's in the air: the man with flesh-colored hair is back.  What will he force us to associate with Obama, even though it has absolutely NO relation to any evidence?  

This time watch for two words: presumptuous, arrogant.  This, about a politician who has shown a rare ability to listen, to synthesize, to talk directly to people without condescending to them.  Who has worked the gritty church basements of South Side Chicago, came from nowhere through the sheer strength of his mind and openness of his heart (read his books and tell me he is not forthcoming and open), a man who speaks often of the many people he admires, the writers he reads, the achievements of others.  

It doesn't matter that the assertion is patently false: Rove, McCain, et al, have their theme.  Their meme.  And it will be repeated every day until November. Prepare yourself, it's going to be very, very irritating.  I'm going to try not to let them into my head this time, not even as an echo.  Maybe the third time's a charm?  Can we beat this neurological assault?

Barack's First Decision as the Nominee

I am blown away by the strategic brilliance of the Obama campaign throughout these 17 months.

So I assume they know exactly what they are doing about the Hillary Clinton as VP question.

But I want to make one point:

Bringing Clinton on to the ticket in order to attract the Hillary voters in Pennsylvania, West Virginia, South Dakota, Indiana, Florida, etc. makes no sense.

Even if it worked, it would weaken his presidency in a significant way.  Obama would never have those constituencies behind him, only behind his Vice President.  This would be untenable for a President -- being forever beholden to his VP.

Obama must win those voters to his candidacy through his own merits.  Bringing Hillary Clinton on now, with her citing her 18 million supporters as if it is a static number, would eliminate that opportunity.  

Making Hillary VP would be a decision based on fear not hope.

BATMOM

I have not been able to post to Democratdad very often since the cancer changed so much in our home. But I do want to give anybody interested a link to my wife's blog, in which she writes about what is going on. It is: http://batmom.typepad.com

More Thoughts on Lincoln/Obama Connection

Similarities:

Lanky
Thin
Big ears
Morally serious
Sudden big smile
Disarming ability to talk like common man
Good with stories
Raised by mom figure (stepmom for Abe), without close relationship with dad
Self-doubts during youth
Christianity was choice not epiphany, but employed religious language in speeches when useful
Discussed process of reasoning aloud
Cool, cerebral style, but also great speeches
Comfortable in skin
Competitive
Unifier
Does not hold grudges
Infuriates people who have repressed doubts, or driven by ideology or false certainties
Recognized by people with serious intent to do good
Not afraid of war, but not eager for it either
Illinois - Springfield connection
Risks of assassination
Young children
Wife is outspoken, strong-willed
Impossible to ruffle
Disorganized in terms of filing, organizing papers, etc.
Slow thought process grounded in first principles
See both sides
Moral ambiguity
Moral modesty
Resolute once decided upon a course
Interested in fairness

Differences:
Born in different centuries?

The Diagnosis and the Plan

I want to tell those readers who are wondering where we are with my wife Renee's illness.

I haven't been able to write very often in the past two months for obvious reasons, but I hope to resume writing soon.

So here is what has happened so far.

The diagnosis: stage IV colon cancer, which has moved to Renee's liver.
Action so far: she has had surgery to remove the initial tumor from her colon, many meetings with oncologists and nurses, and a lot of tests.

We now have a great team of oncologists from both UCSF and Alta Bates in Berkeley.

This past Monday Renee began chemotherapy.

The plan:
8 weeks chemotherapy.
2 weeks rest.
Then, sometime in June, Renee will undergo surgery again to remove the small tumor that was found by PETscan in her liver. This can be done to great effect, because the liver regenerates.
1 month for post-op recovery.
Sometime in mid-July, Renee will resume chemotherapy, likely for 12 weeks.
Possibly radiation.
Possibly more chemotherapy.

Then we will begin life without cancer again.

That's the plan, in stark relief. As I resume this blog I will tend to focus on the children again, and parenting, and politics. Always in the background I will be absorbed with this fight with my wife's cancer, but I am not going to make a point of giving updates unless they arise naturally in the posts.

Thank you once again for your concern.
Tom

What an African-American President Would Mean for the Idea of America

Barack Obama's decisive win in Wisconsin makes it increasingly likely that he will be the de facto Democratic nominee, possibly as early as the end of April. If he wins either Ohio or Texas on March 4, and carries the day in Pennsylvania on April 22, then any refusal by Hillary Clinton to concede would be nothing more than a sad and squalid sideshow on the road to his nomination.

I believe that if he makes it past the primary campaign, then Obama will be the next President of the United States. The next month is the turning point.

One angle on this astonishing development that deserves more attention is the way that the actual fulfillment of this promise -- an African-American man elected to the office of President of the United States -- answers a question that has haunted this country from its beginnings.

This question goes to our deepest understanding of what it means to be an American.

While the fact of a black man in the White House could never, in itself, redeem the suffering and injustice and persistent inequities brought on by the institution of slavery, it nevertheless would mean one thing clearly: we would know, once and for all, that the idea of America is true.

This question has haunted us from the beginning: Is it true?

The generation of 1776 no doubt included many wise, generous men and women. We owe to them our form of government and the basis of our culture. But they were also, by today's standards, morally abject, flawed -- monsters.

"Tremble" as he did for his country when he reflected on the great wrong of slavery, Thomas Jefferson did not free his own slaves from bondage while he lived, or even upon his own death. 

Others among the framers, though opposed to slavery, were willing to compromise with Southern states and accord slave-owners a 3/5 increase in their representation for every human being they owned. This ugly stab to the body of the Constitution, staring out at us like an open wound when we read its words, was an admission of failure. It hypocritically acknowledged the humanity of each enslaved person while depriving him or her of the full dignity of a person (you are worth exactly 2/5 less than your "master"!); and then, to make matters even worse, it assigned this insulting valuation to the oppressor's gain.

This is not to mention the other unmentionables of that era: the genocidal campaigns against the indigenous people of the continent, the subordinate position of women both personally and politically, the barbarous treatment of criminals or other outliers to society...

But the story did not stop there of course. We congratulate ourselves on the abolitionist movement, the Emancipation Proclamation, the fight for universal suffrage, the civil rights victories of the 20th century. There has been progress, undeniable progress. Yet, for all of the gains made with each generation, we have still been haunted.

Is America more than its contemporaries would have it? Are we moving forward? 

"We didn't land on Plymouth rock, my brothers and sisters," Malcolm X famously said, "Plymouth rock landed on us!" The struggles of America's citizenry were so often not chosen; they were forced upon us. We have edged along the rockface of history, but always with tremendous risk, and tremendous resistence.

But is the idea of America true?

The election of Barack Obama as the 44th President of the United States of America would answer that with a resounding "Yes."

The Presidency is different. It is an office which lies at the center of our national mythology. The White House, too, is different. We follow its holiday decorations and redesigns and the changing of its portraits with an ardor we normally would reserve for our own living rooms. It is a physical space which somehow represents the locus of our own aspirations to good citizenship and strong leadership. The very names resonate: the Oval Office, the Lincoln Bedroom.

To have an African-American take up residence at the White House, and more importantly, make decisions on our behalf as the Commander-in-Chief and Head of State, would be nothing less than a second revolution.

It would mean that the legacy of race in this country, the open wound in the body of our Republic, will have begun to heal. If this -- our secular original sin -- can be overcome, then who knows what future generations can do? The idea of America would be true.  

How strangely satisfying to know that future generations, our children's grandchildren, may see us as morally abject, flawed -- monsters!

Do Politics Matter, Really Matter, in Our Lives?

If you have been reading this blog, then you know that from the beginning I have aimed to balance the personal with the political. But in the last month, ever since my wife was diagnosed with colon cancer, the personal has overwhelmed the political for me.

The immediate concerns of our family have almost completely drowned out the stakes, the strategy, the guesswork, the appeal, of politics.

(Although I have to admit that my wife did tack an Obama sign above her hospital bed, and we did convince one of her nurses, who was wavering, to vote for him in the California primary on Feb 5! But I felt, and continue to feel, as if the ongoing campaign is taking place in a parallel universe.)

So from this new position, far removed from politics, I resume this blog with a question: Do politics matter?

I mean, really matter?

Or are contemporary politics no more than a form of entertainment -- like the Oscars? (Was it McCain who quipped once that Washington D.C. was best described as "Hollywood for ugly people"?)

My conclusion -- which surprises me, considering my state of mind these days -- is that politics do matter.

Sure, the consequential political questions of our time are surrounded by a whole lot of dross. But even with all of our other concerns, my wife and I still find ourselves talking politics at the end of the day. Last night I came out from brushing my teeth with a point about the latent racist innuendos which lie behind the "experience' argument for Hillary. My wife later reminded me of some of the implications of a "President McCain" administration in terms of the survival of the doctrine of pre-emptive war. Earlier in the day we casually agreed about the worrisome implications of the low savings rate of U.S. consumers and the national debt to China...

Okay, this may sound more like politics as therapy (not advisable, I would imagine). But the fact is that these and so many other issues continue to matter to us, for the simple reason that -- despite how silly this sounds to say -- they are part of us.

Why should our national debt to China have anything to do with me and my wife right now?

Well, what is the boundary of the self? First there are our physical bodies, mine and (of more importance right now) my wife's. But nobody would suggest that our bodies should be the outer limit of our concern.

Beyond our bodies, there is our community of close family and friends -- our "loved ones," as the wonderfully descriptive saying goes. This is quite obviously part of who we are. And as soon as I expand my idea of self to include these relationships, then I have opened the circle up to the many concerns and influences which affect these people too.

I find that any attempt to trace the boundaries of the self follows a geometric, not a linear, progression: it soon includes a world, not a single person. And we find ourselves back in the arena.

It is an obvious point, perhaps, that we are not alone, that we are connected to many overlapping communities larger than ourselves. But it takes a terrifying situation like the one I am in now to see that it is really true! Not just pleasing rhetoric -- really true!

In his Meditation XVII, John Donne famously wrote: "Never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee." I hear that truth now.

It is true going from the personal to the political: the unexpected arrival of cancer in my 36-year-old wife is perhaps a bell which tolls for you as it does for us -- in the sense that it may affect your worldview. But it is also true going the other direction, following the political to the personal: McCain and Obama's back-and-forth over the weekend about whether they would agree to public financing in the general election is a bell which tolls for me and my family. It may affect us in ways we can never predict.

We don't need to pay attention. The beauty of it is that each of us pays attention to the bells he or she can hear. They ring for us.

And then there's always the more obvious way that politics really does matter: the only health insurance plan which I could find for my wife caps her coverage at $75,000 per year. Clinton or Obama's plans would change that by requiring health care insurers to provide for people without reference to pre-existing conditions. McCain's would not. Simple.

I Am Going to Be Honest with You

Test results showed that my wife's cancer is in some of her lymph nodes. So we are now looking at chemo and possibly radiation. I'm going to write when I can. And when I write I will be honest with you. That is all I can say for now.

Being Thankful

My wife had surgery last night for colon cancer, and it went very well. We are in the hospital room in San Francisco, where she will be for at least a week of recovery.

This experience -- the last two weeks since the diagnosis, and the long night last night -- have changed me in many ways of which I am only beginning to contemplate. But one thing is clear: I am learning how to be more thankful. Just take the last 20 hours: our wonderful surgeon, Dr. Yanek Chiu, and the seriousness of his care, the nurses and their individual personalities and accents, the patient recovering from back surgery who briefly shared a room with us last night (we never saw her face, but we spoke through the curtain), the many parking lot attendants, receptionists, hospital doormen -- I have been struck by the fullness of each life. And I am so thankful for the consideration and concern which they have shown us.

Most of all I have been amazed by our friends and our dear families who have been completely there for us, full of love and support and concern. A trial such as this makes clear that our lives not lived alone, not for an instant.

I believe that there will be some part of me, for the rest of my life, which will remember when I talk to anyone, anywhere, that they may be going through hardships of which I have no idea, and I hope I can show them the kindness and patience which they need and deserve.

Two Candidates, Two Very Different Techniques of Power

So finally we will have Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama, just the two of them, all to ourselves. Tonight they debate in Los Angeles, carried live on CNN to our homes.

The media story which follows from this debate will likely change the results on Super Tuesday. This is a big deal.

My wife and I will be busy putting the kids down to sleep, but we'll record it (and then try and fail to resist the temptation to peek at the post-debate commentary before we finally watch it).

Here's what you should look for in the debate tonight:

When it comes down to it, the difference between Obama and Hillary is one of technique. Their policy positions are very close. But these two candidates propose for the occupant of the White House -- and use in their respective campaigns -- two entirely different techniques for achieving their goals.

The question for the night will be which technique is controlling the debate: clarity or drama.

Obama's efforts are directed towards achieving clarity. He is the great explainer. This does not mean that he speaks in sound-bites. On the contrary, sometimes to get clear you must get complicated. In his efforts to describe and respond to the slew of issues facing all of us, Obama sometimes even delves into nuances. Which frustrates Hillary.

An example from the last debate in South Carolina is illustrative of this. Midway through the debate, Senator Clinton complained that Obama "never take[s] responsibility for any vote." When the audience booed this, she defended herself: "Now, wait a minute... anytime anyone raises [an issue], there's always some kind of explanation... It's just very difficult to get a straight answer, and that's what we are probing for."

I believe that Hillary is genuinely baffled by Obama's refusal to give what she considers "straight answers," which in the language of contemporary politics are answers which either take the form of flat-out denials, or which alternatively throw the question back at the one asking them. She's used to political sparring that resembles a tennis match: Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thupp. (Cheers from the crowd.)

Instead, Obama actually gives, as she says -- gasp -- "some kind of explanation." Often his explanations are detailed, and they may require an appreciation of cost/benefit analysis, trade-offs, process, timing, and other factors that go into actual votes. But these are not straight answers in Hillary's playbook. Seeking clarity is not the goal for her; winning is.

Which brings us to Senator Clinton's technique: drama.

The Clintons, as everyone knows, seem to attract drama wherever they go, and they are doing it again in this campaign. All that is missing is the dancing bear. Dramatic episodes -- a stand-off over gays-in-the-military, Robert Reich's refusal to go along with welfare reform, the shutting-down-the-government game of chicken with Newt Gingrich, the Monica Lewinsky affair, the whole hyperbolic and sanctimonious presentation of the (entirely reasonable) Kosovo campaign -- marked Bill Clinton's years in office. And Hillary Clinton's campaign has started to proliferate with mini-controversies involving misstatements and smokescreens.

The advantage that Hillary Clinton takes from this drama is that it requires a champion to set things right again. Emotions get riled up, and we need a leader to tell us where to go from here.

Whoever sets the tone tonight -- clarity or drama -- establishes their imprint on voters' ideas of leadership. Whichever technique prevails -- clarity or drama -- may well signal that this technique will become a familiar mode in the next five years in the life of the American Republic.

My Problem with Hillary

I have written favorably about Hillary Clinton in the past. I praised her (and her husband's) commitment to a "rights narrative" of American history here, and I described her as a "seasoned warrior" here.

But the last two weeks have soured me on Hillary so much that I will find it very difficult to vote for her in November if she is the Democratic candidate for President.

What is my problem with Hillary? In a word, character.

We know about the manipulation of Obama's words throughout this campaign. The mostly recent egregious example was the TV ad that her campaign aired in South Carolina claiming that Obama had supported Ronald Reagan's ideas (when, as she well knew, he actually made a fairly commonplace observation about the transformative role Reagan played, and how the ideas of the right about limited government and individual responsiblity have dominated the national discourse since Reagan's ascent in 1980). Simply put, she believes that the conscious manipulation of voters is acceptable in the effort to get elected. I would guess that among her friends she would go further and say that Obama's refusal to do so betrays him as lacking what it takes to be effective in politics.

But let's just take the non-event, the drummed-up media tizzy yesterday, about the supposed "snub" of Hillary by Obama at the State of the Union address on Monday night. The macrocosm is in the microcosm. How did Hillary Clinton respond to this? She lied. In an interview with ABC yesterday she said "Well, I reached out my hand in friendship and unity and my hand is still reaching out."

The facts, of course, are different -- and again, she knows it. Photos clearly show that Senator Kennedy initiated the handshake with Hillary. Simultaneously, Obama turns away to answer a question, or otherwise engage with Senator Claire McCaskill. Senator Clinton never did reach out her hand to Obama. She might have, if the occasion had presented itself. But it didn't, and she didn't.

Now, admittedly, this is a non-event. I feel somewhat silly even writing about such a trival media tizzy. So why did Hillary's commentary yesterday on the supposed "snub" stick in my craw? Because it points to something deeper than politics; it points to her basic character. Anyone with a sense of dignity, anyone with an instinctive refusal to fuzz facts, anyone with class, would simply not be able to pretend that he or she "reached out...in friendship and unity" when the occasion simply did not present itself, and she never in fact did reach out. If she had just said, "Of course I would always reach out to Senator Obama, but there are more important things to discuss," or something like that, she would still have scored political points with me.

But she had to take the extra step and lie.

I don't know that I could bear four (or eight) more years of that kind of weak character in the White House. I certainly would be shocked if someone I knew lied directly to me that way. It would change the relationship forever.

I truly don't know if I could vote for Hillary Clinton for President. Third party, purely symbolic votes would, for the first time in my life, interest me.

And even though it is my own thought, that scares me.

The Verb "to Cherish"

In all of the fear that my wife and I have confronted over the past week, I want to share with you the word that has helped me. I have felt a need to describe the feeling in our home. The word that works for me is "cherish." We cherish our children, and we cherish each other.

I know that the children feel it too. In turn, I can see that, already at their young ages, they cherish one another, and us, as well. This verb feels right.

Of course we love one another. But "cherish" captures for me some of the care that we have for one another too.

Think of the people in your life whom you cherish... Isn't it somehow satisfying to say it?

Dealing with Cancer

My wife was diagnosed with colon cancer on Friday of last week, so our family is dealing with that. Thank you to all the readers of DemocratDad. I will write more when I can.

Cass Sunstein on the "Visionary Minimalist"

Cass Sunstein is one of the foremost legal scholars in the country. He has written a great explanation of Obama's approach to politics and policy-making, called The Visionary Minimalist. It's worth reading.

Worrying about the Teenage Years (Already)

My children are small. They still let me hold them.

They cry in my arms sometimes.

Someday they will be big. They will hold others.

They will probably make me cry sometimes.

Check out this video for a good laugh and a good dose of worry about what's to come in the teenage years:

Why do I find myself siding with him by the end?

Memories of When I Used to Be a Polite and Thoughtful Person

Since I became a dad, my social skills have gone into a steep decline.

Last week I learned that I am no longer a polite person.

On Friday, two friends came over to our house for dinner. Everything went as planned. The kids fell asleep just before their arrrival, the dishes tasted great, the wine flowed. And the conversation was lively.

Then, as the four of us were just enjoying a post-dinner cup of tea, I happened to glance at my watch: 11 pm.

I did a quick calculation of how many hours of sleep I would get before our youngest awoke if I went to sleep that very minute: 7 hours. Not too bad! Oh, but there's the dishwashing...

I did another quick calculation, but this time checking on my physical condition (I had felt a cold coming on all day): Sore throat. Fatigue. Possibly slight fever.

The voices of my wife and our guests danced around me. That's when I blurted it out:

"Well..." I said in a loud voice. "I'm really tired. I'm going to go to bed."

I heard the words as they left my mouth. I saw them register on everybody's faces.

Silence. My wife glared at me. Then she said, "Tom!" and put her head down into her hands.

Our friends looked as if I had just literally kicked and shoved them out the door.

Everyone tried to recover. "That's cool," said our friend sitting to my left. "No. That's cool. I understand. Yeah." His tone showed that he was instinctively trying to smooth things over but he did not understand. His partner, her mouth in an involuntary frown, was folding up her napkin and beginning to rise.

"I'm sorry," I said, hearing my voice again as if in a dream. "I... I... I didn't mean to just say that all of a sudden. It's just, I'm not feeling that well. And --"

"Tom!" my wife said again. Then she turned to our guests: "That's my husband..."

We suffered through another 15 minutes or so of attempts by all of us (most of all, me) to make things okay. But there was no getting around it. I had messed up the end of a very nice evening because I had become confused and thought for a moment that I was my own dad.

My only defense is that I thought I was sending myself upstairs to get my pajamas on.

As a parent, I have learned to act this way. I will interrupt if necessary to start the next phase of the evening. When it is time for dinner, sometimes you just have to announce it, and the farm animal puzzle, or the wind-up plastic fish-catching game, just has to stop. When it is time to go upstairs to sleep, then we go right away, no dilly-dallying allowed.

But adults move in a different, more graceful, more euphemistic way through the world. We generally seek consensus, or at least tacit approval, for the major events of an evening. We don't eat until everyone has a plate. We wait until everyone is done to get up. We stick to schedules. We avoid whining.

Since I spend much of my time these days around a 3-year-old, a 2-year-old and an 8-month-old, this distinction between adult and chlld behavior is getting lost to me.

Case #2: When a friend dropped by last night, my first impulse, seeing him walking in the door, was to spring up and do the dishes as we talked. That way, I could get that out of the way. Before I was a parent, of course, when a friend dropped by my first impulse was to drop everything and look after his or her needs. Which person would you rather drop by to visit?

But it's not selfishness I'm talking about; it's habit. I have fallen into the habit of being sudden, direct, efficient, and not terribly concerned with appearances; I'm also in the habit of guarding, like a dragon, the hours I have left to sleep.

The end result is that I find myself a social neophyte again when I get together with other adults. I need to learn my social skills all over again.

And this time I have to learn them on less sleep.

Evolution Is Not a Bedtime Story

So Mike Huckabee, a candidate for President of the United States in the first decade of the 21st Century, does not believe in evolution.

It boggles the mind.

When you watch him dismiss the scientific consensus of our age so cheerfully, so casually, you realize that his mind was boggled long ago by the the ancient sky-god religion of his upbringing.

It makes me reflect on what boggling I am doing to my children's minds.

Last night, for example, I boggled my son's mind.

I had run the King Arthur's court story I had been telling into the ground... Something about Merlin riding a white horse, with a random Prince behind him, who had been tied up by an evil "Mordrake," who had drunk a potion which an eagle had carried for a Princess but dropped... It wasn't working. The pieces had become too unwieldy for both of us. And anyway, the Prince seemed like a bit of a dolt.

So I closed it out with a quick marriage between the Prince and Princess, and even a "happily ever after," to seal the deal.

Searching for an alternative story to tell, something with a clearer trajectory, I landed on the story of evolution.

I started by telling about "this one fish" who tried to walk on the sand... Then, after some intermediate steps, the fish, or rather, its descendents, grew arms!

They lost their scales. They grew fur all over their bodies. They became monkeys!

Then they lost their fur. Their arms grew shorter. And they became people!

"And that's how we became people! Aren't you glad that you are a person and not a monkey?"

At this point, from the look on George's face, it was clear that I had boggled his mind. And not in a good way.

He was, shall we say, concerned.

After a long pause in which he eyed me suspiciously, George lifted his head from the pillow.

"Dad, dad," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me the story where the fish stays in the water."

He was basically asking me to reverse-engineer this whole evolution thing. He would rather stay a fish, thank you very much, than have to worry about slipping back to being a monkey, or looking down to find short, scaly arms, or any of the other, completely unscientific oddities I had conjured. I couldn't blame him.

"Sure," I said. "There was a fish, and he just kept swimming around in the water, and he never even tried to take any step on the sand. And he swam down to the bottom of the water with his family and they all ate some... moss off a rock."

I began to back out of the room.

"Is that what fish eat?" George asked, his curiosity back. We had taken a walk the day before and I had pointed out moss ("Look, George, grass that grows on walls -- that's called moss!"). It was all coming together.

"That's right," I said confidently. "Underwater it's called algae. They also eat little shrimp."

And with that I left the room before I did any more damage.

Next time I talk evolution with the kids, I think I'll avoid the bedtime story format. Maybe I'll even have some visual aids ready.

Much unboggling to do.

Monday Morning Quarterbacking Dad

As a dad, I second-guess myself often...

Should I have just read "one more" story, as my son requested, or was it right to insist that it was time to go to sleep, despite the tears that provoked?

What the hell was I thinking when I made that joke about "not putting your bombom (bottom) in my face!" one time during the bedtime, getting-into-pajamas madness, thereby establishing a rich vein of "bombom" humor in our house which no doubt will bring disapproval upon my boys when they test it out at their preschools?

Am I too harsh on the first-born, blaming him for fights with his brother, just because he is more verbal?

Is it selfish of me to try to get my children to watch football on TV on Sunday afternoons, when I know they would be better stimulated if we did something else?

...The truth is, you never play your perfect game.

So the second-guessing is pretty useless. Just as in sports, however, it is useful in one way: if you actually learn from your mistakes.

So this post is an attempt to list some of the mistakes which I have learned from so far:

1. Never begin to remove a diaper without first checking that wipes are ready at hand.
2. Never look away from a child when you are standing next to him on the sidewalk of a busy street, even for a moment to adjust his seat inside the car or pick up that dropped boot. (Get him or her to hold onto your leg so that you can feel the contact at all times.)
3. Go out and purchase rubber sheets for your child's bed before you start toilet training him or her.
4. Never shout at your spouse in front of the children. You will spend the rest of the day regrettting it, even after the children (and your spouse) move on.
5. Always double check if you are using children's Motrin or infant Motrin (I never made this mistake, but I had to include this anyway since it terrifies me every time).
6. Never advise your wife on breastfeeding issues (accept that you have no idea what you're talking about -- I did, and now I feel better).
7. Believe the counterintuitive instruction in that Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child book, which says that the earlier to bed, the longer your child will sleep.
8. Always call the pediatrician immediately if it is Friday and you think your child might be getting an ear infection (which could take you into the weekend after the doctor's office closes).
9. Never make hasty judgments about your child's behavior patterns without considering that they will entirely change in another week. (The development phases come and go so quickly!)
10. Always listen to your child when he or she resists a school or other program -- he or she knows better than you.

Any others leap to mind?

Political Labels and Political Philosophies: Take the Test

See where you come down on the electoral compass. It's a great way to test your political self-image against the actual policy positions of the candidates in this election year.

I fall squarely in the upper left quadrant, and my answers are closest to John Edwards and, after him, Barack Obama. So I guess I am an unabashed lefty after all...

What's curious about my electoral compass-point, though, is that in terms of my political philosophy I am actually a conservative -- in the sense that I believe in anti-Utopian, gradualist change, and lower-case meaning derived from contingent cultural traditions.

But I happened to be raised in Berkeley, so the values that I want to conserve are lefty values, emphasizing freedom of expression and equal opportunity for all, instead of religious authoritarianism or private property absolutism. Other people come to liberalism through a different path -- they break away from their upbringing and embrace a transformative, radical position in support of abstract human rights or the rejection of the Powers That Be. I come to my liberalism the way that 18th century "liberals" like Jefferson did: because it seems to me that it allows the maximum of human flourishing, while responding to our deep down sense of fairness. I do not need to believe that it will ever create a Perfect Union, only that we are always striving together, as the Constitution has it, towards "a more perfect Union."

Where do you fall on the electoral compass? What is the political philosophy that lurks behind your specific policy preferences?

Parents Getting Their Way, the Angry Child and the Results in New Hampshire

My two boys, 3 and 2, are just getting to the age where they will directly test their wills against mine.

The boys will want something -- say, to soak "just one more minute!" in the bubble bath -- and my wife or I will insist that, no, they can't have it.

You know what comes next: a loud and unruly protest rally. Chants and raised fists. Outrage from all sides. The inevitable divisions and recriminations within the movement. And finally, a plastic frog thrown hard at someone's brother.

Grabbing the culprit and lifting him out of the bath, I feel like "the Man." Part of me wants to join them. A vision flashes before my eyes of myself suddenly plunging into the bath next to them, throwing bubbles in the air, calling for more plastic bath toys. "No justice, no peace!" we'd all scream at their mother as she came running in to see what was going on.

But I resist. I mean, I really want them to get in their pajamas.

Sometimes, as I lift them out of the bath, or deny the refill of apple juice, or separate them without asking for a report of who started it, I see a look in their eyes that seems familiar. I remember being a child myself, and having no say as to the final outcome of a confrontation.

When Mom or Dad laid down the law, when it was time for me and my sister to go to our rooms or get in the car to go to school, there was no arguing. Or rather, there was arguing, but it was a foregone conclusion who would win the argument.

Even in the best of worlds, even if it were possible for the parents to be right and reasonable, under all circumstances, it hurts to be the kid. It makes you feel helpless. You recognize the limitations of your own power to change outcomes. It makes you mad, righteously mad. Door-slammingly mad.

That is exactly what many of us felt on Tuesday night, watching the Hillary Clinton victory speech in New Hampshire. And I'm not alone. It felt as if our parents were winning once again.

And it makes us particularly angry because we've had a lot of that over the past eight years. There was the decision by the Supreme Court (parental figures if there ever were such, in strange "grown up" black gowns, talking to each other in sophisticated language about unfamiliar issues) to hand over the Presidency to George W. Bush, despite clear indications that Gore had... I don't know, just possibly received more votes from the good citizens of Florida than anyone else on the ballot.

Then there were the "adults" who, back in 2003, told us that questioning the drumbeat for war and the existence of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq was childish. In fact, Dick Cheney's main persona, from the beginning of the administration to the present, is that of the wiser, more responsible parental figure who tells it like it is to the rest of us squirts. And one of the most notorious "grown ups" in the lead up to the Iraq disaster, Bill Kristol, now has a column in the New York Times, along with that other cheerfully enabling grown up, Tom Friedman.

We're still listening to their lectures, suffering from their hand-slappings, sitting for their pep talks.

In New Hampshire, there was a moment when the younger generation seemed to announce itself. Reporters on the ground talked of Obama rallys which were confident, positive, forward-looking -- celebrations of our new unity as an extended family of Americans. It seemed as if, maybe this time, we would speak for ourselves.

But the grown-ups, the over 40 voters, leaned to Hillary. The over-60 voters stampeded to her. And it was enough to send us to our rooms all over again.

I still feel angry. It reminds me of how my boys must feel sometimes.

So what can we learn from our experiences as children and parents to ease the pain?

No, I will not acknowledge that the grown ups are usually right, and that Hillary Clinton, despite my resistence, is best for the family. No, I will not come out of my room and say "I'm sorry." Is there any other lesson to draw from parenting?

There is one: This too will pass. Kids grow up. As you enter your teenage years the conversation with your parents starts to involve more give and take. You may even convince them on occasion to take your side. And then suddenly, shockingly, you find yourself responsible for your own destiny.

I hope that this is the year for Obama. I resent the results in New Hampshire. I am nervous about the prospect of the so-called "Greatest" generation and their children, the Boomer generation, rolling the rest of us kids once again on February 5, "Super Duper Tuesday."

But at least I know that if not now, then soon. We're growing up, Mom and Dad -- Hillary and Dick -- and we're going to finally get the franchise.

I pledge right now to listen to the political views of my adult kids when I'm 60 and holding on to the status quo.

Barack Obama and the "Experience" No One Is Talking About

Dear Barack Obama,

I am writing with advice. Hillary Clinton's campaign surprised everyone yesterday in New Hampshire, and I'm sure your campaign is taking a fresh look at how to respond to the Clinton "comeback."

Here is my advice, short and sweet: You must challenge her claim that you lack "experience."

So far, your campaign has pretty much conceded that point and offered instead the alternative of choice. But you can't simply let her win on experience. You can still emphasize choice, but you need to chip away at the voters who are concerned, above all, about life history, qualifications, resumes, connections.

From what I gather, you do have the experience which equips you for the Presidency.

I don't just mean the story that your wife Michelle tells so movingly on the stump: how you turned down offers from prestigious law firms so that you could become a community organizer in South Side Chicago; how you brought bipartisan coalitions together in the Illinois State Senate and passed important legislation; the impact you have already made in the U.S. Senate, such as your efforts with Dick Lugar to deal with the threat of nuclear warheads in the former Soviet Union. These are important parts of your experience, but they are not the full story.

I would urge you to discuss, with your characteristic eloquence, your experience teaching Constitution Law at the University of Chicago. Tell voters what that experience means for your qualifications to be President at this moment in history.

Under Bush -- in "war on terrorism" era -- we have seen the erosion of some of the legal safeguards in this country: signing statements, invocations of executive privilege, and a reversal of the welcome trend towards transparency in government. We have also seen the Bush administration dismiss many of the long-held (and hard-fought) commitments of international law and human rights law: the advocacy of torture (under another name of course), the outright evasion of the Geneva Conventions, pre-emptive war. We have seen too, with the Patriot Act and numerous executive orders, direct threats to our rights as citizens: the denial of habeas corpus under certain conditions, the wiretapping of our private phone conversations, insistence on access to information on the books we choose to check-out from public libraries.

It will be incumbent on the next President to know the Constitution well, to have grappled with its clauses, its interpretations, its amendments and its "penumbras." It will also be crucial for the next President to know intimately the precedents of the Supreme Court, decisions which have shaped the boundaries of our political and personal lives, from those written in longhand by Justice Marshall all the way to those word-processed by Justice Thomas and his clerks.

I know that Hillary Clinton is a lawyer too. But she did not teach Con Law. I believe that you can make the case that this is perhaps the most important experience the next President will need domestically: that you know our Constitution and its accompanying body of law. You can make the case -- not legalistically but with honest, straightforward and soaring words -- that you will be the greatest defender of our cherished Constitution, and from no less a powerful seat than the one behind the desk in the Oval Office. This cuts through party lines. It is in every American's interest.

Best wishes for Nevada and South Carolina -- and beyond,
DemocratDad

Hillary Clinton and the Curse of the "Double Self"

Dear Senator Clinton,

I am writing this letter with a feeling of genuine sympathy for you, concerning the difficulties you are facing in the campaign. Let me be clear: I am a supporter of Barack Obama. But this letter is not written to score political points or with tongue in cheek; I truly wish to convey my respect and sympathies.

I also want to try to explain to you what is happening in New Hampshire at the voting booths and all around the country in the polls.

I know that you have dedicated much of your life to the advancement of your political goals -- including health care reform, education and preschool programs, and a more progressive tax structure. You worked closely with your husband during your years as First Lady both in Arkansas and Washington D.C.. You led many initiatives and commissions into many important policy areas in those years. And then in your subsequent career you delved deeply into the minutia of legislation addressing all manner of economic, military and social needs and endured the endless wrangling in the Senate. Many of your colleages -- Republican as well as Democratic -- have attested to your civility, your thoughtfulness, your obvious intelligence, your fortitude. You won them over, just as you have won over the voters in New York.

But Democratic voters all around the country are now going in a different direction. You and your campaign, by all reports, are reeling.

Why are voters -- particurly young voters -- turning to Obama in droves? Why does experience seem a liability these days? Why do people constantly reference the "likability" factor when contrasting your candidacy to Obama's?

There are many explanations of course. For one, there is Obama himself. We could also speak of "Clinton fatigue," gender stereotypes, the Republican noise machine and its villification of you over the 15 years, demographic shifts, celebrity culture, your fateful vote to authorize the war in Iraq, your personal style of self-restraint, the infinite power of Oprah, and on and on. But I want to focus on just one of these many explanations, the one which I think is (other than Obama himself) the fundamental one:

Hillary, the nature of public discourse is changing.

People are getting savvy. They recognize what people in public life are doing, behind the masks. They know how to read motives. We are, each one of us, saturated with images of other people in the media. And we have become, each one of us, highly advanced critics, expert detectors of duplicity, pretense, hypocrisy, inauthenticity, ambivalence. Microexpressions have macro-consequences.

I believe that you are truly dedicated to your political goals. The charges -- the Sean Hannity/Rush Limbaugh line of talk -- that you are driven by avarice, revenge, or ambition are silly and hurtful. But in your long time in the public eye you have developed a habit of speaking which hides more than it reveals.

You purse your lips into a half smile. You focus-group your hair style (I am assuming that it has at least been discussed, for its political import, in your inner circle). You speak in measured cadences with a subtext which consistently advances your agenda, be it tactical or strategic.

This is no longer suitable in the media-driven culture. People see too much.

This change first began to have consequences in the 2000 election. Voters judged Gore and Bush on the basis of their personal style, regardless of the content of their speeches. While Gore -- dear, brilliant, sincere Gore -- spoke in his slightly condescending, calculated way to the voters, George W. Bush spoke from his heart. He has, over a lifetime, developed a consistent, down-home Texas-style delivery, which relies on the talismanic power of short, simple words (You're a "good man"; people want "freedom" -- see my earlier post on Bush's... unique way of speaking). Voters responded to this. Whatever his policies, whatever his values even, they recognized a person speaking to them without artiface.

When I say that George W. speaks without artiface, I know that you and many others may reflexively disagree. Of course he is a blue-blooded New Englander who is pretending to be a Texan. There is a certain artiface in his whole persona. But the important point is that he has genuinely adopted it as his own. So he may recite the cues given to him by Karl Rove, and he may have invented his down-home style back in his childhood, but he believes it now. Gore, on the other hand, is famously different with his friends in private -- cutting, sharp-witted, even irreverent -- than he is in public, where he is serious, self-deprecating, and yawn-inducing. (Though I have to admit I still love the guy, even when he drives me crazy.)

My point about you, Hillary, is that you have a double self. So do I for that matter, when I present myself to the world. I hide my goofy side and get very serious (not unlike Gore, I'm proud to say!). There is nothing wrong with this traditional style of self-presentation, this double self, on the face of it. But it is a serious liability in today's politics.

Voters today -- especially the young -- want someone who is a fully portable package, and someone who allows any voter, anyone watching on TV, to inspect the contents held within. The age of secrecy is over. Love him or hate him, George W. makes no bones about who he is and where he stands. Love him, Barack Obama does the same.

Again, my sympathies are with you. You are a gifted person, and you have done and will no doubt continue to do much good. But the culture has shifted, Hillary.

In your emotionally revealing moment yesterday, your voice broke when you spoke of how hard it is sometimes to continue on with the campaign, and why you do it. Let's forget the supposed risk of crying, considering our country's hang-ups about "showing weakness." I was with you as I watched it. For a moment, you seemed to drop your mask and let us see the contents within. But then, before our very eyes, you put the mask back on. You transitioned, almost effortlessly (I only saw your eyes drop for a moment as you made the switch), into a political speech about how "some of us are right and some of us are wrong... some of us are ready, and some of us are not."

It broke my heart to see you do that. For I knew then, that this dual awareness, this calculation of the words you speak for their effect instead of their capacity to represent your inner reality, is your default position. You cannot help it. You cannot break the habit. And for this, voters cannot forgive you.

I will vote for Barack Obama on February 5 in California. But I will think of you too, Hillary, and I will wish you well in your continuing career as a Senator from New York. There are many of us who struggle with this new era, which demands exposure to all of the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, all the time.

Best wishes and be proud of all you have done,
DemocratDad

Update: Clinton won New Hampshire! Congratulations, Senator Clinton. This will certainly be an interesting month ahead.

What Lies Behind the Youth Vote -- Obama, Huckabee and the "Secondary Orality"

The world is changing. Faster than any of us can track. And one of the ways it is changing is to make us far more accurate at assessing the multiple sources of information demanding our attention every day.

We have to be more accurate. We have to be more selective. If not, we would be swamped with a time-wasting, distracting, confusing barrage of information, and we would go to sleep at night wondering what the hell that was all about.

(Well, okay, sometimes I go to sleep at night wondering what the hell that was all about anyway, but usually there is a specific cause -- say, I happened to land on Fox News for too long before clicking the TV off. It's not a general state of mind...)

We've learned to be choosy about what we let into our heads.

One reason we've had to do this is that our culture is becoming an audiovisual one -- instead of one based on the written word.

This is somewhat threatening to those of us who value the old culture -- those of us who still read for pleasure. An article in the New Yorker last week terrified me on this topic of our changing culture.

The article, Twilight of the Books, discusses the rise of a post-literate culture -- a so-called "secondary orality." The author, Caleb Crain, lists some of the findings of research into the ways in which an oral culture -- one without reliance on the written word -- functions. These findings happen to match up almost exactly with our emerging 21st century culture in the U.S.

Here's the most hair-raising passage from the article:

"[T]he best way to preserve ideas in the absence of writing is to 'think memorable thoughts,' whose zing insures their transmission. In an oral culture, cliche and stereotype are valued, as accumulations of wisdom, and analysis is frowned upon, for putting those accumulations at risk. There's no such concept as plagiarism, and redundancy is an asset that helps an audience follow a complex argument. Opponents in struggle are more memorable than calm and abstract investigations, so bards revel in name-calling and in 'enthusiastic description of physical violence.' Since there's no way to erase a mistake invisibly, as one may in writing, speakers tend not to correct themselves at all. Words have their present meanings but no older ones, and if the past seems to tell a story with values different from current ones, it is either forgotten or silently adjusted...[I]t is only in a literate culture that the past's inconsistencies have to be accounted for, a process that encourages skepticism and forces history to diverge from myth."

Doesn't that describe our current political and popular cultures with eerie accuracy?

I brooded about this for a week, until I realized that this culture of "secondary orality" will generate new skills, new adaptive behaviors, new talents, in the coming years. My children will have abilities far beyond mine to selectively choose what goes into their heads, and what new synthesis they make of it all.

And that brings me to the youth vote.

As is becoming increasingly apparent from the floundering of Clinton and Romney, young people don't buy the old schtick of politicians. When they start with the rhetoric, or dwell too long on their resumes, young people turn their attention away. This is the secret behind the popularity of the satire on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart, or the Colbert Report, or the Onion. The old written-word style of communication, mimicked by habit even in the speech of older politicians, has become a joke.

Elevated language, and the unreflective role playing that goes along with it (message: "I speak in this self-important manner because I am an important leader of men!"), simply don't translate well into an audiovisual culture.

This is why Obama and Huckabee have a special magic for young people. They may be readers themselves, but they belong -- in every syllable they utter, in every casual, natural smile they flash -- to the new culture. They are authentic, finite, recognizable. And most importantly, they are hearable and watchable.

Barack Obama, the Watershed Waterfall in Iowa, and the New Man

Yes. Yes. Yes.
Obama!
OBAMA!
OBAMA!!!!

Now he's knocking at your door, America.

What struck me most about the amazing speech Obama gave following his decisive win in Iowa last night was his complete lack of giddiness. He was warm, eloquent, authoritative, full of conviction, but he never seemed lost in the moment.

Here he had accomplished something truly historic: an African-American candidate came in first -- beating two seasoned pols -- in rural America, in the heartland, in Iowa for godsakes, which surely competes with Idaho for the title of Whitest State in the Union -- and a red state to boot. (Does that make it pink?) And yet he was perfectly composed and self-aware.

This is a watershed moment in so many ways. In fact, last night we witnessed a watershed waterfall.

Here is a list of some of the watershed moments we witnessed in Iowa:

1. Largest turnout of new voters ever in the Iowa caucus.
2. A campaign that never resorted to negative attacks (the lowest Obama stooped to was questioning whether "Washington experience" is really that important to serving as President -- harsh!)
3. First ever presidential candidate who openly admits that his religious faith represents "a choice, not an epiphany."
4. Second ever presidential candidate who has a parent who was born in a foreign country (the first and only other, as far as I know, was Thomas Jefferson -- father from Wales, mother from England).
5. A new model of manhood for our time.

The last one perhaps needs some elaboration.

I see in Obama, beyond the political accomplishments, a significant cultural marker in terms of our contemporary idea of what consitutes a strong man -- and for that matter, a strong person, regardless of gender.

His opponents -- and the right wing media machine -- have attempted to define him as soft, as naive, as "Obambi," as too young and too inexperienced, but these charges seem to bounce off of him as soon as he speaks. He is slender, polite, quick to smile, even gentle in his way. Yet his impeccable control of what he is saying projects strength beyond question. What's going on here?

If we think of the panoply of ideas about manhood in our culture they tend to cluster around two poles: warrior/chieftan/cowboy or scholar/gentleman. The first group is rough-and-ready, agile of mind when needed, but mostly agile of body. These men bow down to no one. The second group is decorous, high-minded, confident and morally unimpeachable. These men, in many cases, inspire others to bow down to them by their sheer understanding of what lies before us.

Obama belongs to neither group -- or rather, both but more than both. He is tough like a warrior/chieftan/cowboy -- he refused jobs at cushy law firms after Harvard and instead dedicated himself as a commnity organizer to the streets and housing projects and churches of Chicago. We can imagine the icy-cold morning spent in dingy rooms drinking tepid coffee out of styrofoam cups fending off accusations and hacking coughs and disillusionment. No one can fairly accuse him of taking the easy way out.

Yet he is also obviously capable of inspiring a following. President of the Harvard Law Review (and universally loved, apparently). Wildly admired, early in his career, by his colleages at the University of Chicago Law School (Obama taught Constitutional law, a subject which I can safely say is one of the most mentally demanding of any area of expertise I have ever encountered. One of his colleages, Larry Lessig, who taught me Contracts when I was at U of C Law School in the mid-90s, is perhaps the smartest professor I ever encountered in my life -- and he recently endorsed Obama and attested to his brilliance). And, if anybody needed further proof of Obama's ability to inspiire, they need only look to Iowa.

But Obama does not fall neatly into the scholar/gentleman group either. He inspires, yes, but he does not take on the mantle. He remains visibly uncomfortable with the megalomaniacal side of running for President -- see my discussion of his Christmas video. And last night, flush with victory, he spoke to the crowd convincingly of the "movement" they had created together, and not his own path to the White House. Like Lincoln, he seems to draw inspiration from inside, from his own core values and his own visions for the future, and does not require the crowd's roar of approval. (Though, like Lincoln, he appears to thrive on connecting to people in all of their particularity -- again and again he writes of individuals and their influence on him in his memoir of growing up, Dreams From my Father.)

So what is this new pole, this third pole, of manhood which Obama represents?

I would argue that we see in him a model of how to be a strong person in the Information Age. We know now that our world is too large, too full of talent, for any one person to stand heroically above everyone else. We know that if anyone appears to, it is the result of a brilliant marketing strategy more than anything else. We know now that there are Abraham Lincolns and Elizabeth I's everywhere, in small villages in China and far-away cities in Estonia. We see them represented in film; on TV; in throw-away news stories or profiles; in internet vidoes; and when we travel.

So strength is not about fame or worldly success. Nor is it about brute force. In this new era, where the world has both shrunk and expanded, strength is about composure and self-knowledge. This is the only way to navigate the barrage of data in the Information Age; this is the only way to weave together the multiple identities needed in every one person these days (each of us juggles them: world-citizen, American-citizen, perhaps parent, worker, athlete, intellectual seeker, spiritual seeker, pragmatist, consumer of culture, creator of culture, friend, leader, follower, sometimes mentor, sometimes student).

Barack Obama is possibly the next President of the United States. He is also, already, an admirable person.

What I Learned about Sadness from my Children

Our cat, Milky, died in early December. She had already lost her ears, a few years back, and the skin cancer had eaten away her nose. She was in pain. It was time.

So with my wife holding Milky, and the kids upstairs taking their naps, a vet administered the injection which put her to sleep.

A few days passed, and the children hadn't said anything. But we felt we had to tell them. So, one night around the dinner table, we exchanged looks. My wife signalled for me to start.

"George and Cole," I said cautiously. "I have something to tell you that is kind of good and kind of sad too." Cole remained intent on some obscure design he was making with his food on the table. But our three-year-old Georege's face dropped, and he stopped clicking his spoon against the edge of his bowl of noodles.

I continued on, speaking slowly and carefully. "Milky had to go away. She was in pain. Now she is in a place where there is no more pain."

He looked shocked.

"Where is Milky?" he asked, as if he had only just thought of it and I had yet to say anything.

Seeing me hesitate, my wife took over. "Milky is gone, sweetie," she said. "Her nose was hurting her so much, and she went to a place where she won't feel any more pain."

"What place did Milky go to?"

By this time, George's little 2-year-old brother Cole was also paying attention. He must have caught the unusual tone in our voices. Or, more likely, knowing Cole, he just so happened to have reached a good stopping-point in his design work -- the noodles were properly mushed into the edge of the table. Now he was giving us his trademark sideways look from his seat.

My wife and I waited for the other to answer. What else do we say?

Finally my wife carried on. "She's in a place called Bubbling Springs." That was in fact the name of the place the vet mentioned where Milky's ashes would go. I have avoided thinking too hard about what Bubbling Springs actually looks like, aside from its enticing name.

And with that -- the mention of that single data-point of "Bubbling Springs" -- the boys seemed to drop it. George went back to his noodles. Cole slid off his chair and started the nightly ritual of running around the table holding something aloft -- a spoon, a pretzel, a piece of cheese -- and yelling, "Parade!"

But five minutes later, it happened.

First George, and then Cole, ran to the window looking out on the night sky, trees, and neighborhood houses.

"Milky! Miiiiiilky!" George cried out. "Milky come home!" Cole joined in too: "Come 'ome Miiiwky!"

We sprang from our seats, got on our knees and held them. The obvious next line, "Milky isn't coming home," sounded a little Hollywood, so we just held them.

That night, as I was putting George down to sleep, he started crying. I lay down next to him and he shook with sobs.

"You're sad because Milky is gone?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, wiping tears from his eyes while still more came out.

"I'm sad too," I told him. "What do you miss about her?"

He stared at me for a moment, as if he hadn't thought about specifics until just then. I was about to withdraw the question, or add, "Everything, huh?" when he reached out and grabbed my arm.

"I miss petting her."

*

The experience of seeing the boys grieve for our cat Milky stayed in my mind for all of December. Over the next few weeks both George and Cole occasionally still called out to her from the window. But I kept thinking about the tears and sadness that George showed on that first night when he heard. He was not following some prescribed behavior; we had never told him to cry at the death of a cat, a mouse, or anybody else. It just welled out of him.

It reminded me again how naturally, without effort, the most tender emotions arise in human beings. It reminds me that below the outrages and cruelties and prurient proddings of our politics and our pop culture, there are children -- all of us -- who just want Milky to come back so we can pet her again. That's it. It's not complicated.

Out with the Old, In with the New

Happy New Year! DemocratDad is back.

Just a quick post today. I'm so nervous about the Iowa caucus tomorrow that I can't sit still long enough to write much.

*

We took down our Christmas tree today, and my 3-year-old George had some questions.

I was standing on the step ladder, straining to get the final strand of lights off the top. George watched me from below.

"Why are you taking the lights off the tree?" he asked.

"I have to take them off because we want to use them again next year." With a sharp lassoing motion I yanked the strand of lights off that last stubborn branch. In the process I nearly swung myself off the ladder too. But I was okay. I glanced down at George and smiled to reassure us both.

George hadn't even noticed. "Why do we want to use them again next year?" George asked. He was working on the mystery of the tree.

"Because it will be Christmas again! And we'll put the lights on the new tree."

I stepped down from the ladder, gently lay the lights in a loose pile on the floor, and then lay down on the floor myself. Without hesitation, George lay next to me. It seemed like the thing to do.

Lying flat on my back now, I reached under the tree and began unscrewing the bolts which held the tree in its stand.

"What are you doing?" George whispered. He had seen that concentration look on my face before.

"I'm unscrewing these things down here, so that I can pull the tree out. Then we're going to leave it on the sidewalk where we leave the garbage. Some men with a big truck will come to pick it up."

Silence. He considered. I unscrewed another bolt.

A few minutes later and I had pulled the tree out the door, where it lay flopped like a beached whale -- only one which just happened to have green branches. That's when I spotted the colored lights I had wrapped around the thick branch of an avocado tree just outside our door in early December. Without hesitating I stepped over and began unwrapping this strand of lights too.

George looked up at me with what can only be described as an ironic expression.

"What are you doing?" he asked, beginning his cross-examination with a deceptively simple question.

"I'm taking these lights off the tree."

A sly smile crept over his face. "And then you're going to pull it out?"

"No!" I said. "This is our avocado tree! This isn't the kind of tree we pull out."

He studied its thick waxy leaves, its smoth bark. "This isn't a Christmas tree," he agreed. "Then why did you put lights on it?"

He got me. I turned to him. I realized I had to make a distinction for him. But what exactly was it?

Do I make it "trees in the house vs. trees outside"? No, that's not it. Or is it evergreen trees vs. deciduous trees? No. Then I realized what it was.

"We only throw out the Christmas tree. The rest stay stuck in the ground."

He gazed around at the trees surrounding us. He looked pleased. They weren't going anywhere. We weren't either.

Out with the old, in with the new, but we there are some constants. The trees stay stuck in the ground, and we're here all the time.

An Aesthetic Critique of the Candidates' Christmas Videos

So the candidates on both sides have released their "Christmas" videos (I say "Christmas," because it is more accurate, although some campaigns hedge and call them "Seasonal" or "Holiday" videos).

Twinkling lights, bright sweaters, warm smiles, knitted stockings and, whenever possible, adorable children, are all featured, as you might expect.

There's been a lot of chatter in the blogs about Huckabee's assertion that "what really matters is the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ," or Barack and Michelle Obama's inclusion of their girls in the fireside scene, or Hillary Clinton's assortment of policy proposals for the American people...

But let's get away from the politics for a moment. I think it's high time for a critique of these videos, not for their content, but for their use of the medium.

As a filmmaker myself, I consider myself obligated to bear down and watch these babies.

What are the aesthetics of these videos?

In other words, what message do they convey, behind the words. It's a visual medium; we have to remember that what these videos are actually doing is showing something.

Let's start with my favorite candidate, so we can get my own agenda out of the way:

Barack Obama

The first thing I noticed is the tense body language, despite the warm atmosphere.

I believe that this family is genuinely close, so I'm assuming that this is the 5th or 6th -- or 22nd! -- take, and they have grown increasingly tense as the minutes turned to an hour. I've seen it happen.

Perhaps technical issues (sound, lighting, framing) dragged the taping out. Perhaps the girls got restless, or had an argument about who got to sit on their dad's lap.

Whatever the facts, the result is that Michelle and Barack talk in a friendly, but curiously exacting way. Listen to the way Michelle's voice bounces rhythmically with the words of the opening: "We'd-like-to-take-a-moment to thank YOU and your FAMILY for the WARMTH and friendship that you've shown ouuurs." That sounds like someone who has grown weary of saying the same thing.

One visual element also immediately stands out to me: those spooky shadows of stockings on the wall above the fireplace. They are definitely intentional -- I would guess to convey the warmth of candlelight, and to add some texture to the background. But they hang behind this family in such a way as to evoke the aesthetics of film noir. Touch of Evil and Double Indemnity are usually not the best sources of inspiration for campaign videos

The books on the table in front of them suggest upper middle-class coffee table art books -- signaling a home of broad intellectual curiosity. The Christmas tree is discreet -- and notably designed instead of ad hoc (the red and amber theme stands out).

This is a house well under control. No holiday madness here.

As for Obama, he speaks in the same overly exacting way that Michelle does. Worse, it looks as if he gestures too closely to his daughter Malia's face a few times. I know it is an optical illusion (when zoomed in -- which creates a nice tight focus on the subjects with a blurry background -- the distance between objects can seem shorter than it really is), and I know that Obama often gestures this way to make a point, but it made me nervous the first time I watched it.

Then there's the telling moment. The parents have finished speaking and it's time for the girls to add their "Merry Christmas" and "Happy holidays." Watch how Barack and Michelle anticipate the girls' lines -- after all, it is hard not to after multiple takes. They both turn sharply just before their daughters speak. By doing this, they confirm for us -- it hits our subconscious, the eyes miss nothing -- that these are canned lines. It does, however avoid what would be worse: if the parents feigned surprise when their daughters spoke.

The overall effect of the video is actually a grudging one, which is -- and here, perhaps, my agenda is showing -- what I think makes it work. I get the sense, watching this video, that the Obamas are not at all comfortable with the megalomaniacal charm required to pull of a warm Christmas message to the entire nation. A tension fills the air, and it is the tension of a real family being asked -- for political purposes -- to do something patently ridiculous: wish 300 million Americans Merry Christmas.

Okay, let's turn to a Republican:

Rudy Giuliani

Like the Obamas, he sits in front of a Christmas tree. But -- it leaps out at you -- where is his family? Of course we know the answer to that question (reminding voters of Judith -- his divorce, their affair, the puppies -- is not helpful, and his kids are, well, a little distant, shall we say).

Instead of surrounding himself with progeny, Rudy dons a red sweater vest and a red tie. With his glasses and this combo he comes off looking like your friendly neighborhood pharmacist, all decked out for the holidays. It's actually quite winsome. And he can refill your Lipitor prescription if you need that too!

When he says he may get a fruitcake for America, someone off-camera questions him: "A fruitcake?" And Giuliani leans forward with his peculiar, aggressive charisma to someone whom we never see. This is a very post-modern move -- breaking the frame of the film. He can thank Goddard and the French New Wave (although I don't think that would be to his advantage in South Carolina). The effect is funny -- and surprising.

Interestingly, Giuliani is often called "insane," or some other nutty confection, by his critics. And the video of him in drag, kissing Donald Trump, is, one would guess, a political liability. So this mention of wanting to get America a "fruitcake" is a good double-fake move. If he were really a fruitcake he wouldn't be so comfortable talking about them.

The only false note is the Hillaryesque laugh, apropo of nothing, at the end when he says "Happy Holidays."

Giuliani has another ad too, with Santa laughing at his wish that the candidates all just get along. Rudy's wearing the same red and white sweater vest. This video suggests visually that he may be working for Santa Clause -- or at least on the same team. You can watch it here.

Okay, let's go to Hillary Clinton:

Immediately you notice the much-ballyhooed "professionalism" of the Clinton campaign. The video is edited snappily to the music soundtrack. The images -- close-ups of wrapping, cutting with scissors, etc. -- are framed tightly, which is the current standard for Hollywood shot selection. The lighting has that big budget studio gloss to it -- warm and muted all at once, as if this video is an outtake from, oh I don't know, Seabiscuit. The sound design is detailed (listen for that crinkling sound as the cards are placed under the bows -- all added in post). We see a tilt on "Universal Health Care," a pan on "Alternative Energy," a rack focus on "Bring the Troops Home."

And then the music pauses on the reveal of Hillary herself. The room is light...

INT. LIVING ROOM -- DAY

A woman sits comfortably on a couch, wrapping presents.

This scene, complete with throw pillows, captures those private, unnoteworthy moments that women share, taking care of the wrapping of presents, completing a project, preparing something wonderful for the family. The point is that Hillary seems to be enjoying it. Message: she is one of us.

Only there is a slight scratch in the record, so to speak. It comes just at the end. As Hillary exclaims, "Oh!" we are to understand that she has just located the present which matches the card "Universal Pre-K" -- good so far. But then she commits a beginner's acting mistake. She repeats the exclamation as she grabs the present: "Ah!" It rings false. We know that she already had her discovery moment. So what is this second "ah"?

Just like the entire Hillary Clinton for President campaign, this second "ah" suggests that Hillary knew where she was going all along. The double discovery shows that there never was a discovery. Everything has been orchestrated to reveal "discoveries" to us -- the voters -- when they are useful. Hillary is even prepared to experience those discoveries a second or third time (e.g. President Bush cannot be trusted!) when this may score additional political points.

And please, someone in the Clinton video production unit tell me why they froze that awkward frame at the end, with her smile half open, and zoomed in slowly, as she says, "I approve this message." It looks as if she has been caught red-handed, and we have a photograph to show it.

Onward to the Repubicans!

Mike Huckabee:

A red sweater, a white collar. Like Giuliani, Huckabee apparently works with Santa.

Otherwise, it couldn't be more different. There is no French New Wave or cinema of alienation here. The borders are not porous. There is just a straightforward point made: what really matters is the celebration of the birth of Jesus -- oh, and that you can count on Mike Huckabee to say that without apologies or unease of any kind.

Huckabee does everything that the Obamas resisted. He turns on the charm, the eyebrow-lifting, shoulder-shrugging charm of the best kind of salesman, the kind that means it, as he wishes an entire nation to have a "magnificent" Christmas.

Yes, yes, and there is a giant white cross over his right shoulder. Your point?

This video has all the simplicity and folksy charm of the best propaganda. It knows what it is selling (just as its subject does) and it goes about selling it. Its best analog is an Ipod ad on TV -- you always see the iPod up front and center, and there's always music playing on it. Well for Huckabee, Christianity is his music, and bass-player that he is, he knows how to keep a tune.

What about John Edwards:

We see the same Christmas tree hovering over the right shoulder. But this time the candidate is in a black suit, a white shirt, and a dark tie. Sober, unflashy, dedicated to the cause.

The implication of this dress code is that Edwards will be working for you, even during the holidays. He's that dedicated.

The music is unremarkable: a gathering-moment piano piece. But it does raise the stakes emotionally. It seems to be building to something. And Edwards talks directly to us, as Huckabee did. He means it.

There's the problem of his stuffed-up nose, adding a nasally quality to his voice. But otherwise we focus on him and him alone for the duration of the video.

The background does not suggest anything fancy at all. The tree is nondescript, the wood-framed picture on the wall, the wood paneling -- everything suggests a middle-class living room, or even a modest hotel room.

I think this is a strong video. It highlights Edwards' most endearing trait -- his commitment to making things better. Edwards' appeal is emotional (unlike Obama's, which like JFK's is more cerebral). And this ad does all the right things to create a sense of stirring emotion, held back only by the sobriety required to get the job done.

Back to the Republican side:

Mitt Romney

Okay, this is not technically a Christmas video like the others. This is a video of Mitt Romney and his family sledding together. It was posted by the campaign on December 17 -- so it must have been last weekend?

It's a relief to see a video that looks as if it documents a real-life event. Of course it is partly staged for the camera operator, but you do get the sense that there did take place an actual afternoon of sledding at some undisclosed location, with actual members of the Romney family (and their dogs) in attendance.

The video has a documentary feel, but like all good documentaries it tells a story. The story is that Mitt is a man who is different from his sons. They may be more self-aware and willing to open up to strangers (two of them admit to being "lazy"; another says he is "in awe" of his dad). They may be more socially at ease (we see them lounging on the couch without a clear mandate; Mitt is conspicuously absent).

But they never forget that he is their hero.

He is a tireless worker (we see him shoveling snow). He is caring (he reassures a youngster -- his son? -- that he will "do his best" not to let him "hit the pole"). He is frugal (he prefers the gloves from last year with duct tape holding them together). He hates waste of any kind ("Go leave the water running and see how quickly that will last," comments one of his boys).

The story it tells is that of Mitt overcoming whatever obstacles his family meets (snow, poles, failing gear, running faucets). He may not be the most accessible guy, but it is only because he is so busy doing stuff. If you knew him like we know him, he would be your hero too.

It's effective. I wish more political ads took this raw-footage, shooting from the hip documentary form. The distortion is still there, but it's in the editing not the performance of the candidate -- you get glimpses of the real person behind the mask.

Finally, the only other viable candidate in the race:

John McCain

A prisoner of war story. A black and white photo of McCain as a young man. The older McCain's calm voice recounting it. He tells a heartwarming story of a guard easing his misery. And then the image:

A cross drawn in the ground with a stick.

This video has the starkness of a documentary, but the iconographic power of a religious story. It matches Huckabee's white, glowing, "coincidental" cross (formed by the sections of a bookcase) with a genuine, intentional cross, infused with meaning and history.

For my part, I think it is a powerful rejoinder to Huckabee. But the lasting impression of the video is not its image of the cross. The lasting impression is the one left by the black and white images and the unaffected tone in McCain's voice: suffering, hard-earned wisdom, sadness, quiet resolve. Those may be important and moving aspects of his experience, but I don't think they draw votes.

The McCain ad is a Christmas video done in the Ken Burns' style -- elegiac and cold.

*

Well, that completes my round-up critique of the candidates' videos. In then end I would rank them in two ways. Once for my personal preference:

1. Romney's "cinema verité documentary" style.
2. McCain's "Ken Burns' elegiac" style
3. Edwards' "I'm out here working for you" direct appeal
4. Obama's "I-will-sit-for-this-but-this-kind-of-self-aggrandizement-is-forced" style
5. Giuliani's "French New Wave Santa sidekick comedy" style
6. Hillary's Hollywood big-studio style
7. Huckabee's "direct propagandistic" style

My second list is in order of effectiveness:

1. Edwards'
2. Huckabee's
3. Obama's
4. Giuliani's
5. Hillary's
6. Romney's
7. McCain's

After all that, while we're on the subject of Christmas videos, check out this inexplicably hilarious video (hat tip: Andrew Sullivan):

I'll be writing occasionally next week, but back to daily entries again in January. Happy holidays to everyone!
Tom

DemocratDad's Official Endorsement: Barack Obama for President

Like most people, I try not to think of world history in terms of a timeline of heroes: Pericles, Jesus, Caesar, Elizabeth I, Washington, Napoleon, Lincoln, Lenin, Churchill, etc.

The Great Man Theory of History is not only foolish (history is more complicated than that); it is also insidious. If you believe that change results when a given "change agent" (Bill's term for Hillary the other day) delivers it to the people, as Prometheus did with fire, then you are likely to take a wait-and-see approach to your own responsibilities.

History is about what we collectively make it. It is an algorithm so complex, a code with so many inputs, that no one individual -- whatever his or her particular eloquence, character, or even genius -- can hope to dictate (or predict) where it is going next. (This may be news to Wolfowitz, Perle and others in the neoconservative cabal that led us into the Iraq War with a plan to reshape the Middle East.)

Having said that, I will confess: I have a hero. I even have a bust of him in my house.

His name is Abraham Lincoln.

Bear with me. I'm getting to my endorsement. This is my endorsement. Read on, and you will see why.

Lincoln has been my hero since about the winter of 1995, when I finished the first of the many biographies, monographs, articles, studies, and picture books about him that I have accumulated on my bookshelves since then.

He is not my hero because he "saved the Union" (though for that we should be eternally grateful, to be sure). He is not my hero because he "freed the slaves," since that victory was achieved by countless people, both enslaved and not, and could never be attributed to one man (and anyway, Frederick Douglass and many historians since have some mixed things to say about how long it took for Lincoln to make his important contribution to that effort).

Lincoln is my hero because of the way he thinks.

Unlike any other person I have encountered in person or in words (with the possible exception of Hamlet!), Lincoln had a gift for sharing the process by which he arrived at a decision. In his legal briefs when he was a country lawyer (as he made the rounds of the Illinois circuit courts on his horse, "Old Ben," and slept in taverns sometimes three to a bed with other litigators), in his speeches and letters as a rising politician, and of course in his major addresses, again and again Lincoln reveals the route by which his mind traveled to its resting place. He brings us along on a journey.

Take two examples: the "House Divided" speech and his First Inaugural Address. Okay, I can't help myself, two more: the "Cooper Union Address" or his Farewell Address to his neighbors in Springfield, delivered in a shaky voice from the back platform of the "presidential train" headed to Washington D.C.

This is the language of democracy. In all of these examples, and in almost everything he wrote or ever said, Lincoln translated his private concerns, his anguish, his fervent hopes, his efforts to find light where there was little, even his defeats, into terms which other people could understand.

He did not just come up with snappy ways of saying things. Many people -- including his opponents, like Stephen Douglas or George McClellan -- could do that. He brought people along, increased their capacity to think, and thereby increased their capacity to feel.

Lincoln knew a secret of human nature that is so often forgotten: our emotions, our passions, are driven by our thoughts (and vice versa, of course, as the philosopher, David Hume, pointed out); they cannot be disentangled. Where some would try to work on our passions to redirect our reason, Lincoln worked on people's reason to redirect their passions.

*

Today we have a candidate running for President of the United States who reminds me of my hero Abraham Lincoln.

148 years after Lincoln ran for the same office, Barack Obama, also from Illinois, comports himself in a similar manner.

Like Lincoln, he is tough and shrewd about what is required to win elections. But he speaks to voters in a transparent way about what he is thinking and why he is thinking it.

All through the summer and fall, in debates and public appearances, Obama answered questions by explaining his process. He avoids soundbites -- well, except to retaliate against an attack some kind or a gambit by an opponent.

He avoids snap judgments. When he makes up his mind -- like Lincoln -- he is resolute (as Lincoln famously wrote General Ulysses Grant in a telegram: "Hang on with a bull-dog gripe, and chew & choke, as much as possible"). But he is not afraid to show that getting to this point of resolution takes a willingness to ponder, reflect, even hold contradictory ideas in the mind at the same time -- F. Scott Fitzgerald's test of a first-rate mind.

Listen to Obama, and you will hear the language of democracy. It is the language of someone who considers you an equal and trusts that you will follow his argument even if you do not agree with it.

As I say, the Great Man Theory of History is bunk. But sometimes a great person comes along, exactly at the right time, to nudge history, just a little, in a positive direction.

I believe that person is Barack Obama.

For my other posts on the 2008 Presidential election, including not a few on Obama, please click here.

Paris Hilton: A Threshold Question for Civilization

Something that Sam Harris said in his "Four Horsemen" conversation with Hitchens, Dennett and Dawkins (see Monday's post) struck me.

Near the end of their two hour talk about the future of religion, Harris urged nonbelievers to admit that there is something not quite right with our free-wheeling contemporary culture: it's all about money-making, tawdriness, celebrity-worshiping -- you know the litany of complaints.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Harris' larger point was that those of us who stand outside of religious traditions should work to develop a "spiritual" language of our own (except with "no bullshit," as the soft-spoken Harris surprisingly said). Harris hopes that such a language could express our longings for experiences which are distinct from the daily effluvia of our lives.

With that point I agree. We need to talk about the profound experiences we have which give us new perspectives and sometimes overwhelm us with emotion, our visions and inspirations, what is sometimes called the "oceanic feeling." These are important experiences to us, and they will continue to be -- with or without religion. They reach beyond the everyday.

But Harris' casual dismissal of contemporary culture (and the ready assent of the other three to this dismissal) struck me.

The more I thought about it, I realized that many of us have a conflicted view of contemporary culture. In any given moment we may consider it to be: a) the most dazzling display of symbol-generating, meme-producing, endlessly morphing, gloriously nobrow, creative flourishing that the world has ever known; or b) an ever-shifting representation of the broken lives and misplaced hopes of countless lonely, lost human beings, cynically repackaged by some of those same in order to make a buck.

Well, which is it?

This, it occurs to me, is a threshold question for those of us who would urge our fellow-citizens to free themselves from the grip of the ancient texts of religions and the creaky belief-systems of centuries past. It is also a threhold question for parents as they introduce their children to the larger culture around them.

Do we like contemporary culture? If not, then what are we doing immersed in it?

Or to put it more directly: Can we all come together now and celebrate Paris Hilton?

Whatever you think of her personally (in my case, I pretty much draw a blank), I say we can and should.

That doesn't mean you need to read about her in the supermarket tabloids or watch her on TV. It doesn't even mean you need ever to mention her name to your spouse or your children. The great thing about being alive today is: You can pick and choose which parts of the culture you want to enage.

But make no mistake. I am saying it without apologies. I am saying it with pride: The effluvia is the culture. There is no sacred truth buried underneath. There are experiences which stand apart from the effluvia, but they are profoundly personal and do not point to some metaphysical realm which we could reach if only we were more pure of mind.

Yes, you have to do some navigating through the morass of other people's interests and hang-ups and diversions, but what is the alternative? Do you want someone else to screen out the Paris Hiltons of the world for you?

In that case, you might never be able to enjoy the gifts of another "it girl" of her day, who was discovered on the streets of New York for her looks alone but turned out to be immensely talented: Chloe Sevigny. It takes work this way, but you get the rewards of diversity and feedback loops and rare discoveries.

And the world would be a more barren place without the Chloe Sevignys and the Paris Hiltons.

A Child's Trust

My little girl, Adeline, is nearly 8 months, and she has started saying "Dada." Sometimes it comes out "A da." Sometimes it isn't exactly directed at me. But lets not nitpick. The fact is that I feel a rush of joy whenever I hear her having fun with consonants.

There's another thing that has happened lately. She's starting to look into our eyes.

I mean really look. I noticed it with my two boys too: Sometime in their first year, children go from just seeing to really looking. You stare at them and you suddenly see another person staring back. So you stare some more. (A study has shown that paying extremely close attention to the eyes is something that distinguishes us even from our nearest primate relatives. So this is a deeply human response.)

When my daughter looks into my eyes, she looks without judgment, without fear. She looks with trust. It's an incredible responsiblity, this trust that a child grants his or her parents. They lock their little eyes on yours, or their little hands in yours, and you can take them anywhere. They'll go with you.

Over the weekend, George, our 3-year-old, threw up in his sleep. He looked very pale. We changed his pajamas, changed his sheets and blankets, held him close, and then lay him back down in bed. I put a plastic trash bag in a small metal trash bin that I grabbed from our bedroom, and I put it by his bed. I told him that if he felt he was going to throw up again he could use it. I didn't expect it to work.

But a minute later, just as we were going to let him sleep, without a word he pushed his blankets aside and stepped out of bed. Still without a word, he sat on the floor and bent over the metal bin. And here's the trust part. It turned out that the random trash can I had chosen was a little too tall, and he had to rest his chin awkwardly on the edge of it as he got sick again. It was too late to do anything about it. He just went ahead and bravely lifted his chin over the edge; Dad had told him to do it that way.

I rubbed his back and privately cursed myself for not getting something easier for him.

The bottom line is: they trust us completely. Their eyes show it. Their actions show it. We know that is as it should be.

I'm good for it, to the best of my ability.

I am also aware that it is the greatest responsiblity I will ever know in this life.

The Big Lie that Religious People Tell One Another

The big lie that religious people tell one another is not that God exists.

That is the small lie.

Any claim which goes unsupported by evidence -- and moreover, does not even consider evidence (except reports of "miracles") to be necessary -- can only be described as small, since it is insubstantial, no more than a hunch really.

Sure, this little lie about God can get elaborated into something solemn and serious enough to command the adherence of wonderful, well-meaning people all over the world... But it's really just -- what shall we call it? -- a goof, a conjecture, a stab in the dark.

We all know people who believe that it is "Our Father Who Art in Heaven" who exists (some may be reading this post -- hello!). Others say it is Allah; others Vishnu. Others the Flying Spaghetti Monster (a site I recommend, if for nothing else than for its impressive control of tone).

For the nonbeliever, these lies are perhaps amusing, sometimes engaging, sometimes even deadly, but little lies. No more.

The big lie that religious people tell is that a world without God is a world without hope or meaning.

On the last day of November, Pope Benedict XVI issued an encyclical which parroted this lie.

The New York Times, true to form on the topic of atheism, then echoed this lie uncritically in an article entitled, "In Pope's Latest Teaching, an Argument for Hope, Not Atheism, in the Face of Struggle." (For the internet edition the title was shortened to "Pope Stresses Hope in Latest Teaching." If I were an editor at the Times, simply as a matter of saving space, I would just go with "Pope Stresses" -- and lose the rest. It works!)

Here's the letter which I wrote to the New York Times after seeing that article (it went unpublished -- no surprise):

Re: "In Pope's Latest Teaching, an Argument for Hope, Not Atheism, in the Face of Struggle," December 1, 2007.

As an atheist, I recognize that, for many religious people, their faith brings them great hope for the future (the "ocean of infinite love" that Pope Benedict XVI describes, as well as other rewards in this life).

I would only ask that religious people stop insisting that my outlook on life is correspondingly hopeless and meaningless. On the contrary, my atheism gives me great hope; it renews my commitment to creating, with others, a world filled with love, fairness, empathy, and other good things, since, in all likelihood, this is it folks!

Yes, we nonbelievers must avoid utopian dreams of forever changing the human condition (e.g. the New Socialist Man or the Fourth Reich). But a belief that this life is all we have has a marvelous way of concentrating the mind on the need to listen to, and work with, other people. It gives you hope in humanity. It gives you hope that together we can make of our lives something worthwhile and beautiful.

This is my plea:

Please, my dear religious fellow-citizens of this country and the world, please stop telling the rest of us that our lives have no meaning. Our lives have meaning, I assure you. And you are part of it.

Even you, Pope Benedict XVI. Even you are part of the meaning of my family and my life.

*

For an enlightening discussion of faith and meaning by four great thinkers of our time -- Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Daniel Dennett and Christopher Hitchens, the "Four Horsemen" together at last -- click here.

Some Movie Recommendations for "That Special Time" When the Kids Have Gone to Sleep

One of the curious things about being a parent is that, despite your limitless love for your child, and your awareness that every second is precious, you feel enormous relief when they finally go to sleep.

In our house, the nighttime ritual takes at least an hour.

Adeline, at 7 months, still goes down pretty fast... But the boys! The boys...

First, there's the running in circles around their rooms, screaming and laughing like crazed... I don't know... hotdogs. At this early point in the ritual, you can usually find me or their mother chasing after one or both of them with a pair of pajama pants in our hands. I'm often shouting "Hot dogs don't run!" or "You need ketchup!" or some such phrase (which to the uninitiated would seem like gibberish but for my purposes at the time is a clear command).

Then there's the sitting-on-the-potty-before-bed for George, who is 3. Our 2-year-old, Cole, during this part of the evening, usually stacks giant red, blue and green lego blocks into a tower, then knocks it down like the budding anarcho-primitivist that he is.

This is followed by the washing of their hands and brushing of their teeth. Which requires rinsing and spitting. Which usually results in the fronts of someone's pajamas getting soaked, and more screaming and laughing as they both need to run around their rooms again and recreate, in a frenzy of effort, the incredibly enjoyable gesture of spitting out water.

Then it's on to reading books. "One more story!" says Cole every time, after having agreed that the last was "the last one!" (To this day he impressively refuses to acknowledge any contradiction.) Then, after the books, it's telling stories...

George has become quite the critic of our stories ("Not that one!" he will interrupt, just as we are getting into it). Cole, meanwhile, sings along as we get to the part of our version of "Hushabye, Don't You Cry," which goes "...when you wake, you shall find, all your favorite little toys..." The undue emphasis he places on the the slightly archaic "shall" unnerves me every time.

Finally we say goodnight and back out their doors.

That's when the request phase begins. (Water. etc.)

By the time we stumble downstairs we are quite relieved, really, that our special time has arrived. On some nights, we even muster the energy to watch a movie.

So that's the subject of today's post:

Movies to watch when the kids are finally asleep and you happen to have an hour (or two!) before bed.

Now I'm not just going to list good movies. This is not your generic "recommendations" list.

Instead, I'm going to list for you movies that have nothing to do with childish concerns. These movies are for grown-ups only... but not in that way. They are grown-up in the sense that they will make you think differently about the world than before you saw them.

Some of these are demanding movies. You may resist them at first (I certainly did for many of them). But then, we resist most experiences which are "new, but true."

Rather than falling inside the categories we know, these films create new modes of observation about what it is to be human. They have tones, and moods, and visual or auditory languages all of their own.

If you watch any, or have watched any, write in to this post with your comments!

Here's the list (alphabetical, since I could think of no useful way to rank or categorize such unique films!):

Ballad of Soldier. (1959) A 19-year-old Russian soldier returns from the front in WW II to visit his mother. Black and white, gracefully shot, it will move you to tears.

Baran. (2001) With a rich visual style, the director, Majid Majidi, conjures a world where romantic love seems as real as steel, cement and smoke. This film is gorgeous and quiet.

The Bicycle Thief. (1948) A classic by the great director Vittorio De Sica. A man loses his bike and -- with his son at his side -- searches around the city of Rome for it. Hits you hard. Watching it changed my moral compass forever, and yet it is never moralistic.

The Birds. (1963) If you haven't seen this Hitchcock, do. Even with its abruptness and structural creakiness, it is a visual poem which haunts you well after you thought you had left it behind.

Calendar. (1993) If you have ever returned from a trip to a foreign country with a vague sense that you exploited it, or if you have exited a relationship wondering what you missed, this film will draw you in. It has a fascinating puzzle-like structure. It is partly shot on home video, partly shot on film.

Celebration. (1998) This film gives the movement Dogme 95 a good name: the jittery, handheld camera, the use of natural light -- everything about the visual style of this film works perfectly with the story. A Danish family reunion goes terribly wrong.

City of Women. (1980) A romp into an enchanted forest of gender codes, sexual longings, frustrations and fantasies, with the charming Marcello Mastroionni ("Smick smack," he says as he follows a woman off a train) leading you by the hand.

Code Unknown. This strange, fragmented film leaves you feeling the palpable loneliness of our time. And when it ended I sat there, stunned, thinking about the smallness of art -- as if books, paintings, films are now nothing more than broken pieces of pottery, evoking our interest or empathy for a moment and then gone. Completely absorbing performances.

The Crossing Guard. (1995) Watch this just to see Jack Nicholson deliver the goods. The story involves a husband and a wife dealing, each in their own way, with the loss of his child.

The Death of Mr. Lazarescu. (2005) A film by one of the most brilliant up-and-coming directors in the world, the Romanian Cristi Puiu. It is ultra-real, following one man's experience being shuttled from hospital to hospital as he approaches death. So real that it feels like a meditation.

Destry Rides Again. (1939) Marlene Dietrich and Jimmy Stewart in a charisma stand-off that is thoroughly enjoyable.

Happiness. (1998) Shocking, outrageous, and funny. But it has a tone of its own. Instead of bouncing off of the shock, or just getting the laugh and moving on (as, say, Quentin Tarantino does so well), the writer/director Todd Solondz lets the moments sit. You start to feel what is happening on the inside of the characters too.

It Happened One Night. (1934) A love story as crazy-making as the best love stories are, with Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert.

Moloch. (1999) I will never forget this film and its powerful, hushed atmosphere. The shooting style is wonderful -- lots of wide angles and complicated blocking. The feeling of proximity to Hitler's evil grows -- you feel his deranged isolation and panic in your gut.

Monsoon Wedding. (2001) Okay, if you missed this and you like stories with good endings, you have to see it. It is full of vibrant color (the opening shot of the marigolds is seared into my brain forever), romance, and convincing moments of moral choice. And every time someone does the right thing it always works out.

Nights of Cabiria. (1957) Unbelievable lead performance by Giulietta Masina. The settings are stunning, the story is ruthless -- this is one of the greatest.

The Passenger. (1975) Slow, hypnotic shots. Attention to visual detail. A nearly complete avoidance of melodrama. Jack Nicholson in Antonioni's brilliant film. The famous, final, uninterrupted shot is draw-dropping.

Secrets and Lies. (1996) This director, Mike Leigh, uses months of improvisation to develop a script with his actors. His actors' nuanced, detailed, explosive performances show it.

The Seventh Seal. (1957) I watched this with my arms folded, saying "So?" to myself repeatedly. And its genius still owned me. It took my wife to point that out (based on my odd restlessness when talking about it) later that night. As soon as she did, I let the memories rush over me and I joined the many others who adulate this dream-like film.

The Story of Qiu Ju (1992) This film, about a woman's quest for justice in a remote Chinese village, is structured like a Greek tragedy. It moves inexorably, grippingly forward, and you stare and wonder at it all the way through.

Sunset Boulevard. (1950) If you haven't seen this classic, you will be happy you did. It draws you in, and it creates a world of its own: dark, full of deception, reeking of physical desire, horrible, oppressive, erotic.

The Sweet Hereafter. (1997) A snow-bound town loses a whole school bus of children. Each household holds its own pain. Beautifully shot. The experience of watching it is like unfolding something slowly, with each fold revealing something new.

Tokyo Story. (1953) Yasujiro Ozu's masterpiece. An older couple comes to Tokyo from the country to see their grown children. And you understand more about being alive, and about what it is to care, after watching this simply story.

The Wind Will Carry Us. (1999) Iranian director Abbas Kiarostami is one of the world's great artists. This film, set in a small Iranian village, follows a fictional film director from Tehran as he and you (the viewer) slowly shed our assumptions and remember what counts. It is full of people, and life, life! I wish it could be required viewing for our political leaders.

The 400 Blows. (1959) A troubled boy in Paris. A sad, serene movie that leaves you with a sense of hopelessness and beauty at the same time. Watch for the wonderfully complicated and graceful way it is shot. Or don't watch for it; just enjoy.