First they came for the cartoonists...

"We should not have either a blunt knife or a freedom of speech which is ill-managed."

-- Epictetus

Free speech is being bandied about willy-nilly again, as if everyone agrees on what it does and doesn't mean. I would like to say we all agree that it means you can draw a cartoon of anything you want, of anyone you want, and not be murdered. Of course I can't say that, as we've known  for several years before Charlie Hebdo, since some Danish folks died for the same reason almost a decade ago.

There's been a fair amount of tsk-tsk behind most of the words of support France and the victims have received. The general idea is that they were poking the bear, something along the lines of "We should all have free speech, but we probably shouldn't actually use it to deliver any unwanted messages." A friend actually said the same thing about "The Interview" a few weeks ago--that Sony should have known what they were doing when they decided to mock a tyrant and a madman.

In fact, they did know what they were doing, and these are just the sort of exercises that ought to be protected wholeheartedly, without reservation. I haven't seen "the Interview" yet. It looks juvenile, frankly. But that may be part of the charm too. In some ways, I wonder if it isn't portraying the transition a Hollywood up-and-comer goes through the when they suddenly realize they are part of the establishment, with responsibilities, an audience, and a bully pulpit. Can you remain entirely a lightweight, or must you, at some point, say something? Having stayed out of the way long enough to build a following, one must, perhaps, finally lead. Or maybe they just wanted to make fun and North Korea was an easy target. Their leadership is certainly not a protected class. We make fun of nearly everything and everyone else. Why not them?

Religion too, is hardly off limits in any other case save Islam. "Is nothing sacred?" someone will ask, and the answer is a resounding no. Make no mistake though; these journalists who dared to print these images did so with clear intent. At least in part, they believed that religious figures, particularly those that are arguably historical, belong to the world, not merely to their adherents. Suggesting that no one can speak of Mohammed or Jesus without being a believer is tantamount to saying that no one may speak of Santa Claus without accepting that reindeer can fly.

Those who imagine themselves the most civil may suggest that it was the manner of the argument that was the problem--that one can object without violating an opponents spiritual imperatives. No doubt, that's true. But let's not pretend it's common practice, or even generally well received. These same supposedly principled but cautious citizens might well have supported the civil rights movement, but only up to the point where the races actually wanted to marry. After all, that sort of thing could (and did) result in violence.

The truth is that the violation is necessary, and, sadly, the violence probably is too. The pen is quickly being adopted as the ready symbol for the rebirth of free speech as an issue. As in all things, it seems, I am a man without a party. For while I believe in the pen, and that it should be wielded free from the threat of violence, I also believe that such safety is only bought with blood or the threat of it.  Thus, if words are the weapon, the ink is nevertheless red.

I'm not French. My understanding of press freedoms is American.  But wherever one may find oneself, the rule is the same: a person possesses only such freedoms as they are willing and able to defend. The rights recently exercised, to such disastrous results, may be defended by many means: marches, speeches, editorials, and even police tracking down those responsible. But whatever means of redress are taken up, one more thing will also have to happen: those rights must be exercised again. And again.

Oliver Wendell Holmes is often quoted saying something along the lines of "free speech doesn't give you the right to yell 'fire!' In a crowded theater." Yeah, we all agree, and nod sagely. No one mentions that in the case the quote comes from the court allowed a pamphlet writer to be sent to jail for advocating nothing more than nonviolently asserting your right to be a socialist. The problem with the quote is that the metaphorical theater may indeed be on fire, and the disparaged shouter simply ignored. For among our other rights in a democracy is the right to sit and insist on being entertained until we burn to death, popcorn still in hand.

Better to put up with a little shouting, me thinks.

Time for Serious Gun Control

“People shouldn't be afraid of their government. Governments should be afraid of their people.”
― Alan Moore, V for Vendetta

I watched the announcement of the Grand Jury’s decision in Ferguson with interest. I had the DA on television, the street scene unfolding on my iPad, and the Ferguson Police and Emergency scanner traffic on an iPhone. I don't think I ever believed any of it was ever going to go another way.

This next phrase is difficult and I've had to struggle with the phrasing: I don't believe the officer involved did anything wrong criminal illegal unnatural surprising. He felt threatened; his gun was available; he used it. He had no reason to believe he'd be seriously sanctioned for it (Note: media circuses, while unpleasant, don't count). A layman’s balancing of the details of testimony isn't particularly satisfying.

Brown appears to have been a thief. The stop wasn't handled well. Volumes could be written about the secrecy-laden proceedings which followed, and the incompetence of police handling of unrest. Other volumes could document the damage done to minority communities by protesters. This should have gone to a full jury. But none of that actually changes the underlying problem.

I don't own a gun, but I'm a strong advocate of second amendment rights. It’s ironic then, that I am beginning to see the gun in this case as the problem. If Officer Wilson was at risk of death, it’s because Brown was close enough to grab his gun, the one Wilson shot him with instead. I have to wonder: what if Wilson hadn’t been carrying one?

Take everything else as Wilson describes it (I’m not sure I do, but just for the sake of argument). Brown and a friend were walking in the street and Wilson pulls over to tell them to get on the sidewalk. Brown immediately swears at Wilson. Wilson notes he is carrying cigars like those stolen in a strong-arm robbery reported earlier and calls him over. Before he can open his door, Brown slams it and begins punching Wilson through the open window. Should Brown be allowed to do that? Of course not. Is Wilson allowed to defend himself? Absolutely. So it’s good he had a gun to put a stop to it, right?

Well, this is the weird part. Brown stopped in the middle. According to Wilson, he stopped and turned to his friend to hand him the cigars. “Hold these,” or some such, he says, before returning to the beating. The officer has mace. No Taser—they're uncomfortable. But he also has the gun. Time to misfire it twice, but no time to use the mace, he says, without spraying himself in the face. Even when Brown turns to hand his stuff to somebody else.

So let’s take the gun off Wilson’s belt. Michael Brown isn't dead anymore. That’s no small thing, because suddenly we have his testimony of what went down. Is Officer Wilson dead? I don’t think so. I think Wilson suddenly becomes more resourceful. I think he rolls up the window more quickly; I think he pulls away instead of pulling toward Michael Brown; I think he calls for backup.

I’m not sure he even stops.

If we can remove the assumption of deadly force as an available option in comparatively benign circumstances, cops get smarter and so do criminals. The image of a crook waiting to murder a policeman during a traffic stop--does that even make sense if the policeman doesn't have a gun? What percentage of incidents are made safer, are inherently de-escalated when the policeman is unarmed?

To be clear, my position on private citizens possessing weapons hasn't changed. I’m just increasingly less certain the police should have them. But that can’t surprise you; I've long believed the people should have more power than the government. This is taking it to its logical conclusion.

I'm not suggesting that police should never have lethal weapons under any circumstances. I'm saying something needs to fundamentally change the way we are policing in this country. So let them keep their weapons in a lockbox in the trunk. I’m suggesting patrolmen shouldn't be relying on them to “keep the peace,” though nowhere has that phrase been more laughable lately than in Ferguson. One badly managed city, though, does not make the rule. Like you need more examples.

In Cleveland this week, a young boy with a bb gun was killed by police. A caller who alerted the cops said, “There’s a boy with a gun, I think it’s a fake.” The dispatcher passed it along. Oh, except the part about the gun being fake. The boy moved wrong. They killed him.

For all the adoration we give to our first responders, heroes each of them, so everyone seems to say, I don't see a lot of sacrificing. I see a lot of shoot first and ask questions later.In Northern Kentucky recently, another deputy was not indicted, after firing four shots at the 19-year old driver of a car leaving the scene of a party. He says she tried to run him down. Others say he jumped on the car to stop her from leaving. Malice or panic, she accelerated. So he killed her. Whether or not her death will put a stop to the horrible crime of fully grown adults drinking, is unclear.

President Obama is protected by people who will kill for him. They will also die for him. The United States is protected by soldiers who will kill to preserve the nation. They will also die for it. No one is protecting society the same way.That 12 year old in Cleveland should not have died. He didn't have a real gun. But if he had—well, he still shouldn't have died.So, beat cops everywhere, turn in your guns.

You can keep the nightstick—for now.

Bugs and Thugs: Ebola, Ferguson, and Mediocrity

“Mediocrities everywhere, I absolve you!”

--Salieri, in the film Amadeus

I was on a jury recently. I've been in several pools, but this was my first time actually making it into the jury box, and I was intrigued. I believe in courts as a vital element of administering justice and redressing wrongs. Well, I did before I served.

I suppose I still do, but wow, the glamour is certainly gone. The police investigated this particular crime for 11 minutes. Now, this was hardly the Lindbergh baby, but man, don’t they have to put some time in? When the prosecution rested, I couldn't imagine returning a guilty verdict, not because their conclusion was inconceivable or even unlikely, but because the possibility for doubt seemed reasonable.

My resolve lasted only until the defendant testified. Even before being cross examined, his version of events more than convinced me of his guilt. He eroded his credibility quickly and completely. I said in the jury room that I really hated to send a message that 11 minutes was all the investigation that was needed to convict. But that was the truth, like it or not.

No one was awful here. No police run amok or judicial incompetence. It was really just the banality, the uneventfulness of the vast majority of bureaucratic life. The question is whether “the system worked” or not. Despite my disappointment, I think it’s hard to argue that it didn't. In this case, working means allowing a man accused of a misdemeanor to argue with his accusers, as is his right. I believe the process resulted in a guilty man being appropriately convicted and sentenced. “Working” doesn't mean making me happy or giving me a chance to practice Al Pacino’s “You’re all out of order!” speech from And Justice for All. Of course this was a small trial on a comparatively noncontroversial topic. It doesn’t take long for the results to be less satisfying when the stakes are higher.

Bad summer to be a policeman in Ferguson, for example. I honestly don't know how police behaved during the infamous arrest and shooting. They were incompetent afterward though, and showed an amazing contempt for the people they serve. Of course, they aren't all scoundrels or saints. They're guys who write tickets and fill out reports that only insurance companies will ever see. But now they're all symbols--of oppression, or privilege, sure, but also of just how thin the wires are that hold civil society together. The problem isn't that the police are horrible people; the problem is that they are human beings operating in a system that assumes they will be superhuman.

Autumn has seen similar bad press for the CDC. The gist is that they are paid to be prepared and weren't. Incompetence? I guess that could be argued. But I'm not sure we were paying for the system we thought we were. See, everyone wants a flawless plan waiting in the wings. TV and movies promised as much.  Instead, we got what I saw in that courtroom: underwhelming performance that mostly got the job done. If you disagree, I must point out that the only death in the U.S. was a man who had advanced symptoms before he entered the system. I grant the following among other problems: Airline rules? Failed, true. Prescreening? Vulnerable to lies, it seems. Emergency rooms? Hard to convince of diseases they've never seen before. And yet, it was reigned in. Was the CDC maximally effective? No.  In a nation where our general medical infrastructure was less substantial, they would've been overseeing an epidemic. But that isn't where we are. They didn't have to be great. They were good enough.

My point is that, in our disease management process, we utilize many overlapping agencies that attack the problem differently. That makes them comparatively resilient to less than stellar performance, while still allowing for the possibility of exceptionalism. We could have been wildly impressed, but we were probably foolish to expect to be.

In the Ferguson police, we see an opposing example--a system that invests great power in average people and expects, even demands that they be exceptional, and that fails as a result. With apologies to the mythology that says all police and firefighters are heroes, these are people who took a job for all sorts of reasons, not unflagging bastions of liberty and justice. We've been foolishly arming the police with military grade weapons. There were a number of great articles pointing out how badly they performed with them. They behaved, at best, like an occupying force, at worst like jackbooted thugs.

It seems to me that they did what was natural in difficult circumstances for nonmilitary personnel using such weapons--by which I include their shields and vests and riot gear, since those too gave them greater security and power than the crowds they were managing--using them as the bludgeons the average person might take them to be. In fact, they can be wielded with more finesse by those trained to do so. I don’t mean exceptional people; I mean people who operate under a different set of premises, a different procedural set.

I don’t want to oversimplify a solution for this specific incident. But it’s clear that the system needs to be re-engineered to assume the participation of average people, not because police are worse than any other group. They aren't. But if you plan on them as a group being somehow better, or even heroes, your plan is likely to fail.  Stop treating a civil service job like it’s a calling. Stop using military models and making them a class set apart. Start examining the procedures and limitations that can interact with other societal elements to produce acceptable results, without relying on a nonexistent workforce of men and women with superhuman stamina, and patience, and judgement.

As we've seen in the case of Ebola, mediocre can get the job done. Good thing too, since most of us are.

10 Commandments and 11 Herbs and Spices

I feel a little guilty about it. 


Not about liking the product--I mean, they didn't get to be a nationwide phenomenon by making a product nobody wanted. So it's no surprise that it tastes really good, and that the service is world class, and that I keep wanting to buy it. But, honestly, they wear their politics on their sleeve a bit. Specifically, it's their opinion on gay marriage. 


I'm talking about Starbucks of course. Great coffee. But they've been very vocal in their support of gay marriage legislation. As I've mentioned elsewhere in my blog, I have no interest in preventing gay marriage whatsoever, or for that matter, in encouraging it. But the same is true of straight marriage. I couldn't care less whether people are married or not, at least as a matter of public policy. I believe, quite strongly, that marriage is among the many things about which there should be no laws whatsoever. Everyone who insists on recognition for gay marriage is in fact arguing for a more intrusive state. I'd like to move us the other way, where consenting adults construct their own arrangements and give them the weight of a contract, managed by civil courts where necessary. Private citizens will always be superior managers of their interactions than any federal government. 


Starbucks isn't alone though. Chick-fil-a has been pretty vocal about their support for organizations that oppose gay marriage and some that even run camps or programs aimed at "curing" homosexuals. That strikes me as pretty out there. But man, is there chicken good! I go once a week or so. And I have no plans to stop--but that could change. 


For instance, I didn't go yesterday. Why? Because there were huge lines of people frothing at the mouth, not simply for the chicken, but for the chance to show their support for Chick-fil-a's politics. I just wanted a sandwich. Tomorrow, a similarly foam-lipped crowd plans a public display of affection outside their doors(or inside them, I guess, because I've seen no evidence that Chick-fil-a has ever turned anyone away on that basis). I won't want to go then either, because I have no interest in aligning myself with a political opinion. I just wanted a really good chicken sandwich. 


So, yes, I think Chick-fil-a has made a mistake. Actually, that's overstating it, because it's not clear their political stance has or will hurt them at all. In fact, let's be honest; all I'm really saying is that Chick-fil-a has engaged in behavior that annoys me. Not by funding a homosexual cure--it's misguided, but pepole do lots of very similar, very misguided things--but by taking a stance as a corporation and politicizing something as delightful as a chicken sandwich. 


It's one of the most exhausting things about life in 21st century America--the degree to which every decision, no matter how small, can be politicized in some way. It is both true to and completely contradictory to the American ideal, and very little can be done about it. 


Let's be clear; everyone is entirely within their rights. Chick-fil-a is welcome to use faith as an element of their successful formula. As recent events have shown, it's a draw for many, and arguably a reasonable marketing strategy. The left, on the other hand, is certainly within their rights to oppose a company that has made itself political. 


But people--these are really terrible ways to exercise your rights! 


We were founded as a Christian nation, sure, but the people who say that most often now are forgetting that it was a very different kind of Christianity, a brand that wasn't particularly consistent. Boring Congrgational churches one minute, punctuated ocassionally by "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God." What's indisputable though, is that we were founded as a capitalist nation. And to me that is sacred and profound in a way that I'm not sure either side of this debate recognizes. 


Capitalism is about, first and foremost, setting aside our differences. Why? Because it elevates the work product above our associations, histories, ethnicities, and philosophies. And because the decision on which producers rise and fall is based solely on the product. Whether the product is sandwiches or coffee or clothing or coolness--capitalism insures that a product succeeds because people want it. 


To that end, I support removing barriers that prevent people from competing fairly. I don't think gays should be discriminated against. But I also don't think government should be encouraged to compound problems it created by meddling in the first place. Competing fairly means removing governmental barriers to entry in the marketplace. Many more people who happen to be gay are harmed by excessive federal regulation than will be impacted by the foolish political goals espoused by the controlling interests at Chick-fil-a. 


Of course, both Starbucks and Chick-fil-a have seen real benefit in espousing a general political outlook and taking some very specific stands; I don't blame them. If they did not give to programs or support legislation of ANY kind, you can bet they would hear about their failure to support communities or some such. Again, I firmly believe those are actions individuals should take, not companies. But, that's not how the game is played these days. I could protest of course, by not buying products from any company that makes politics a part of its promotion strategy. But then I would be hungry. And thirsty. And naked. And the tv would be really lousy.

Of Popes and prophylactics...

We live in a land of dichotomies: Coke or Pepsi; White or Wheat; Red or Blue; Right or Left. And it didn't require a conspiracy or Machiavellian plan to get here. The same tools are available to everyone commercially. So whatever it is you are "selling", Cola, bread, dogma, or the fact of bifurcation itself, you are bound to use the same media, with the same desirable demographics, and thus the same packaging via the same delivery mechanisms. What surprise then that all these things seem in fact, over time, to become the same thing?

Such operations are costly, and that cost sometimes even brings people together. "We have differences, sure," two parties say, "but what we share is most important." So they unite for what they believe is a common good. Those who will deliver their message most effectively then, may well be those who unite those formerly the most different. To "win", then, may be to eliminate the greatest range of distinctiveness.

There is an equal and opposite reaction, of course. Once A has become successful, B inevitably rises. But how can be compete with A? Well, largely by defining itself not as B, but as "Not A". Those who oppose A have that in common at least. And so a new group is defined, not by something they share with each other but by something they do not share with A. Soon, some new element arises in B, a badge that demonstrates the depth of their objection to A. It spreads among B, and a culture is born.

Here's the tricky part: Two subcultures have now coalesced, made up of people differentiated only by their opinions on whatever the core A issue is. With so much attention paid to issue A, it can now be assumed that there is general agreement on virtually everything else. In fact, to prove how "reasonable" they are, both A and B will work hard to demonstrate that agreement. And in doing so, will prop each other up.

And why not? A and B have a pretty good thing going by now. Lots of space on store shelves, plenty of time on the chat shows. What's A going to talk about if B's out of the picture? B agrees, seeing that being a close second is a pretty good gig, all told, and really, those top two spots do a lot of back and forth anyway. Better to be magnanimous. So, while A and B have their differences, at least they're not C. And to consider D would be unconscionable.

I've been thinking about the recent debate over government mandated birth control and Catholic institutions.I am astounded by the extent to which all these opposing bad ideas actually support one another. The controversy moves all discussion to the wrong place. And in doing so props up a system of bilateral wrongness.

Someone recently asked me whether I thought Catholic institutions had the right not to pay for birth control for their employees. That's exactly the question the administration would like you to ask, framed in just about precisely their preferred way: in terms of a powerful entity, the church, denying basic freedoms to individuals.

Someone on the other side might have an ideal formation of their own, probably along the lines of: Does the government have the right to force the church to violate its moral principles? Again, a powerful entity, the government, denying basic freedoms to individuals.

So as not to keep you in suspense, I will go ahead and answer both questions: Yes. Both of these groups have every right to impose these restrictions. Because in both cases, they are made upon people who are willing participants. Those who object to the government, can of course oppose its actions in all the usual ways--from contacting their congressman, to voting them out, on through to the right of revolution ensconced in both the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. Those who oppose the church can simply leave it, work elsewhere, and stop supporting the institution with their dollars and the association others reasonably might make between their beliefs and their choice of employment.

I should be clear here: I think singling birth control out as unsupported by health insurance for your employees is a bad idea, but it is one that flows naturally from a whole set of bad ideas. My hope would be that eventually it would die out, thanks to people's individual choices and the obvious unpopularity of the concept, even among most Catholics. But it won't die out, not at this rate. No, the government will once again "protect" people from making their own choices, by insuring that they have no real sting. They'll get birth control anyway, and not have to consider the silly policy put in place by their employer, or what impact it has had on the rest of the world. So B will grumble that they've been overridden. And, thanks to A, they can continue on their way, perpetuating more bad ideas.

And they have every right to do so; after all, while I called them A and B for convenience sake, the hapless decision makers at the center of it are you and I. Or perhaps I should phrase that in the only genuine dichotomy I know:  there is really only Me and "Not Me."

Give and take, not necessarily in that order

“Compromise,” the lady said, “is the process whereby those of opposing principles agree to set aside their differences, however vast, to frame a resolution which includes some measure of both gain and loss for both parties. A compromise can thus insure against a loss that might otherwise be total, in exchange for the concession that victory can never be complete. It is therefore the safest course of action in any number of day-to-day disputes, whether they are domestic, legal or philosophical.”

“Sure, ok.” said Solomon, and proceeded to cut the baby in half. 

It's been a while since I wrote, and at least part of the reason is the thorniness of the issue I decided I'd write about. I've been asking myself what good my absolutist tendencies are doing myself or the philosophical causes I believe in. And everywhere I look in these circumstances, the word compromise is there, taunting me with one of its various definitions, including  “trading preferred elements and outcomes to arrive at a mutually acceptable solution,”  as well as “abandoning one’s professed beliefs to avoid or end conflict”.  Other forms of the word are troublesome too, like compromised, which is to say "weakened by one's own actions, generally in contradiction of professed beliefs" Now, just where you are in that range of definitions determines whether the word is friend or foe.

By way of example, I might well write a book, bound to be a best seller, with the compelling title "Hole in the Ground Full of Snakes: Reasons Not to Get In One". While my outline is incomplete, I am thinking of a chapter on why snakes are unpleasant that is sure to stir the hearts of every American. I will give concrete examples of the injury done to so many by various holes in the ground filled with snakes, particularly elderly folks on fixed incomes. I think a chapter on how hard it is to get out of the hole makes sense too. But let's be clear: My intended audience is people who are considering getting into a hole in the ground filled with snakes, along with those who have to walk by such holes frequently, and, of course, the people who love them. 

Not on that list is a significant group of readers to whom the book is of no use whatsoever, but who nevertheless have an abiding interest in the topic: people who are already stuck in a hole in the ground filled with snakes. 

I've impugned the impassioned pleas of others on such grounds. "We should never have gone to war in Iraq," they say. 

"Conceded," I say, at least for the sake of argument. "So what do we do now?"

"Well, I'm just saying we had no business being there..." The rest is muffled, probably by a snake. 

My argument is not that such nay saying is wrong or even entirely unnecessary, just that it is not, in and of itself, particularly useful in getting us out of Iraq. 

So, here I am, hoisted on my own petard as they say. I am sincere in espousing the various elements of human freedom mentioned in these pages. But building a model society is way too often just that, building a model of a society instead of fixing the real one. 

Back to that hole in the ground full of snakes. I am already stuck in it. We all are, I think many will agree, particularly as economic troubles deepen. And many of us will have differing view of the best way out of the hole and what a non-hole in the ground filled with snakes world looks like. And, while I know that my solutions are the correct ones, they will not be easy to execute without the involvement of others in the hole. Lacking any particular authority over one another, we may simply all have to take the long view: what set of agreements will get me closer to being out of the hole in the ground filled with snakes? Can I accept a plan I believe will be unsuccessful if it moves my plan closer to being executed? Will those who believe in my plan think me disingenuous for working with those who don't? 

The trick is to keep your overall beliefs in mind, knowing they can't be held absolute in the world without constant bloodshed. But surely there must be some sacred, immutable line never crossed or sullied by the stain of compromise, right? No, actually. Because as soon as it is immoveable, it becomes another absolute that will never be held to. 

The choices therefore become pretty clear. You can be a voice crying in the wilderness--"look on my works ye mighty and despair"--you can try for something that looks even a little more like your ideal, or, you can move to a very isolated spot, in the desert, the tundra, or the far side of the moon, and start over completely.

Assuming there is more than one of you, by the way, starting over changes nothing. But you will get to see it all happen again.

There was an old woman who swallowed a fly. She really should have stopped there.

Drug Tests and government checks


New freedoms often come with new responsibilities. In the case of my children, they get some sort of car, but they also have to cover their car insurance, which means going to work. The pairing of liberty and liability seems entirely natural, and derives from the idea that I, as a parent, have enormous discretion in such matters as granting liberties, enabling privileges, and redressing wrongs.

So the model for coupling a privilege, like recieving welfare or unemployment insurance, with a responsibility to remain drug-free (and, periodically, to prove it) is well established and gets a lot of heads nodding. After all, the cost is born by the recipient and it keeps the riffraff out of the system. My problem is not that it's likely to be found unconstitutional; I think any number of things are that are in common practice in government, and I think any number of other things ought to be. No, my problem is the same old problem--that it grants government a power it should not posses as compensation for a privlege it should not have granted in the first place.

Let's see, so many places to go...I think I'll set aside the failed drug policy in this country, the ridiculous prohibition that has cost so many billions and so many lives. I'll also ignore the self-fulfilling and demand-generating culture of addiction and poverty, driven by a huge swath of well meaning folks who believe they can take better care of the allegedly disenfranchised than those poor happless folks can manage themselves.

The wave of what I will call UFC("Urine for Checks") legislation being discussed seems to appeal to a lot of people who would say their concern is making sure their tax dollars are well spent, or even making sure the least possible amount is spent. I phrase it that way because what they say isn't well represented by their apparent legislative preferences. The way to save money is to end programs, not to begin new ones. Given the obvious challenges in administering and litigating such a huge drug testing program, it is unfathomable to me that this would save anyone any money. So, if such programs are passed, and if they can't reasonably be said to save any money, why do they pass? That's actually easy: moral indignation.

I guess I should make clear at this point that I understand the motive and feel a bit of the old M.I. myself. I don't like the idea of my tax money going to drug users. But I really wonder if the folks who support these bills are really taking all of its ideas to their ultimate conclusions, or rather, tracing them backwards to their  premises. Because I don't believe most people would agree with them. I'll list a few here.

1) Government is your daddy. How do you think of government, at its best that is? I think of it as a  clerk or administrative assistant, carrying out things society has told it to complete, with no real will of its own. The UFC debate plants governement firmly in the role of parent, doling out privileges and responsibilities, deciding what's best for all of us.

2) Welfare is an undisputed responsibility of government. Just being clear here; the argument is all about whether you must pee for payment; but the checks will be written no matter how we vote on this legislation. I object to welfare as I object to the taxation which funds it. Go back one more level and the ridiculous assumptions are many fold: that the government is better at planning for trouble (poverty, unemployment) than we are as individuals; that deficit spending makes sense in bad times; that tax collection is somehow superior to private savings or investment.

3) The government can administer drug tests accurately and fairly. Sure, why not. Government is always so efficient, especially when attached to huge entitlement programs.

4) Lots of welfare or unemployment recipients are on drugs. Yeah, that's not actually true. UFC solves a problem that isn't much of a problem, on top of everything else. Note: A recent headline noted that the Social Security Administration wrongfully declares dead 14000 people a year.

5) No one has a right to take drugs. This won't won't be as obviously false to the reader, but I believe it is. Put simply, I believe everyone has a right to do anything that doesn't violate the rights of others--children in their care, or cars in the opposite lane for instance. Insert ususal schtick about alcohol prohibition here. But more importantly, our attempts to legislate new behavior around drugs simply have not worked. We ought to be past ruminating on what government SHOULD do and well on to concentrating on what government is actually capable of.

In conclusion, two wrongs don't make a right. (Yes, I thought of that myself just now.)If we are incensed at government abusing its authority to make us pay for the welfare of others, giving it more authority, this time to examine our various bodily fluids and keep records, is ill advised at best and crazy at worst. We as a nation, having swallowed the fly, will not be thought wiser for downing a spider. Sure, we've got strong stomachs, but there is a horse in that list a ways down, and I for one am not that hungry.