What drives inflation? Electric rates rigged against consumers

Gordon L. Weil

If you pay the electric bill, you’re in for a shock.

In the electric business, it’s called “rate shock” and it occurs when rates suddenly increase to the point where some customers can’t pay their bills.

It’s here, now.  The electric business makes sure the companies who provide the fuel, produce the power and own the wires are fully compensated.  The system passes the buck and the buck stops with the customer.

Rates increase.  The reasons why reveal the anatomy of inflation. 

Can’t regulators protect customers?  That’s the theory, but it doesn’t work, because the game is rigged. An unjustified belief that the free market will set prices fairly plus well-meaning government policies that pile costs onto customers make it difficult for millions to pay their bills.

Sometimes the upward pressure on power and wires costs come together, beyond the control of regulators.  Oil and gas companies, renewable energy promoters, electric utilities and legislators can all make that happen.  Despite token representation, customers can’t stop it.

This is not only a local issue.  To be sure, Maine monthly bills are shooting up by about $40 and they will soar elsewhere in the U.S.  In England, they are forecast to climb by 56 percent. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen.  The industry was partly deregulated.  As a result, the cost of power was expected to decrease thanks to competition. The cost of the wires, then the smaller part of the bill, would remain under federal and state regulation. 

The cost of fuel used for generating power would continue to be set by the market.   That market is under the control of the fuel producers, mainly located in the Middle East, like Saudi Arabia, or in the American Southwest.  They try to charge all the customers can bear. Flip a switch and you’re boosting their income.

The current price jump is mainly due to an increase in the cost of fuel.  There may not be enough natural gas to meet demand.   A hot summer meant natural gas that would have gone into storage for winter went to power air conditioners. 

Also, the U.S. exports natural gas.  If we prefer to have Europe depend on American rather than Russian supplies, that comes at a cost to U.S. customers, some of whose winter gas goes overseas.  In a world market, other participants naturally jump on the upward price spiral.

The results could be serious.  With inadequate gas supplies, New England, where half the power is fueled by natural gas, faces possible rolling blackouts.  Nobody realized that regional energy policy was really set by the natural gas companies.

Renewable power sources like wind, solar, and hydro plus nuclear offer more price stability.  But they face opposition claiming they are unreliable, harm fish passage or spread radiation risk.    Even as the costs of non-fossil resources have fallen, bringing increased reliability and safety, they still struggle to gain against subsidized coal, oil and gas.

Part of the problem for renewables is the cost of transmission lines.  The resources are often sited far from main customer centers.  That means new lines must be built. When government mandates more use of wind and solar, it silently raises rates to cover the cost of new lines.

Maybe not so silently. The federal government favors renewables by offering transmission owners handsome profits on their investments.  State regulators allow lower profits for the distribution lines that deliver power locally.  No wonder utilities prefer to build high voltage lines and let residential service suffer.

An alliance has developed between the federal and state governments that adopt pro-renewables policies and the transmission owners who can increase their gains by building new lines.  The costs fall on most customers.

The biggest customers enjoy advantages that other customers don’t get.  They receive their power at high voltage and contribute little or nothing to the cost of distribution.  They are strong enough to make their own favorable deals with power suppliers.

Fuel costs, new transmission lines linked to new renewables, and better deals for bigger customers affect rates.  Electric rates also include aid for lower income customers and the costs of regulation. Electric utilities may even recover from customers their legal costs in arguing for rate increases.

Federal and state lawmakers have the power to improve this system.  When governments mandate policies, they should provide financial backing for their decisions.  Instead, they include some costs in rates that should be covered by taxes. It is easy to let customers pay more, promoting inflation.

There are a couple of positive signs.  President Biden’s proposed investment in new transmission  would come from taxpayers, and utilities could not earn a profit on it.

And consumer-owned public power, which serves 28 percent of the national market from Los Angeles, California, to Houlton, Maine, is non-profit. Its rates are lower. 

“The Emperor has no clothes” – the naked truth about vaxing, voting and hacking

 

Gordon L. Weil

An old tale, written by Hans Christian Andersen, tells the story of a foolish emperor who is swindled into believing that he wears the finest garment, visible only to the wise. But he really strides naked on parade.  Nobody risks telling him they see nothing until an innocent child blurts out, “The Emperor has no clothes.”

That declaration has come to describe a clear fact that many people insistently get wrong.  It means, “What you think is obviously incorrect. Here is the naked truth.”

Here are some of today’s naked truths.

Vaccination against Covid-19 works.  Maine provides the best possible proof of that truth.

The counties with the lowest new case rates have the highest percentage of vaccinated people. Most people in counties that are now nearly the worst in the country have chosen not to get shots.  They risk their own health and may spread the virus to others.

The term “herd immunity” was meant to convey the idea that, when only a few people remain unvaxed, the virus won’t easily spread.  In the counties with high case rates, we can see the reverse – herd vulnerability.

Many possible explanations exist for abstaining including partisan politics and misinformation, intentional or not.  It may be a matter of mindset.  Maine health expert Dr. Dora Anne Mills has said, “We very strongly need people from conservative circles – religious, faith and business – to really stand up and promote vaccination.”

Here’s another truth that causes harm if ignored. Voting matters.  And serious voting matters seriously.

On this truth, Maine takes comfort because it comes close to leading the country in voter participation.  The U.S. in 2020 had a high rate of two-thirds of eligible voters; Maine had 76 percent participation.  So what’s the problem?

Nationally, one-third of eligible voters did not vote. Joe Biden received 51.3 percent of the vote. That means the president was elected by one-third of the possible number of voters.  While the high turnout may feel good, it’s important to look at those who did not vote. In effect, they “voted” for Biden by not voting for anybody else.

Voting in the 2020 elections influenced decisions on matters such as whose vote will count next time, the future Supreme Court, and Biden’s legislative program.  In Senate races, the GOP margin in North Carolina and the Democratic margin in Arizona were small. If either had flipped, you would never have heard of Sen. Joe Manchin’s swing vote power.

Casual voting on the basis of personality or a wedge issue cannot achieve the full value of each vote.  Who paid attention to the fate of the child tax credit when they voted for senator?  If you care, voting seriously takes thought.

Some politicians have become blind to the truth that “two wrongs don’t make a right.” They justify dubious actions on the grounds that their opponents did the same thing, excusing themselves even while implicitly admitting their actions were wrong. 

This refusal to recognize the truth is a major cause of the spiral to the bottom in American politics, made even worse when the supposed action by the other party is fabricated.  When Trump was impeached for pressuring the Ukraine to help his campaign, his backers excused him by claiming, without any evidence, that Obama had done the same thing.

This ploy may help explain why many eligible voters stay home.  Hearing the claim that both sides have gone wrong, they can conclude there’s no real difference between the parties.  So why bother voting?

Another obvious truth is ignored by government, business and individuals in the computer age.  There’s a widespread belief that voting and personal privacy can be made secure from hacking.  Not so.  Security is growing worse.

The “emperor’s new clothes” answer is that complete computer security is impossible.  Election systems are always in danger and our personal lives are always at risk of public exposure.  Still, computer experts keep trying to get technology to solve its own problems. In the end, though, the “cloud” is just somebody else’s hackable computer. 

The truth may be that we have to go backwards.  Back up everything with vital stuff like election ballots and electric grid operating manuals on paper.  When somebody makes us a “great offer,” it should be on paper so we can read the fine print.

To reduce electronic security issues, from government to individuals, we should apply the old ways of doing things on paper now, even if it takes some work, to prevent problems later.  Otherwise, it could be a case of “sin in haste, repent at leisure.”

Too often, we believe we can see the emperor’s new clothes, while ignoring the naked truth.  Unlike the foolish emperor, we may be harming others as much as ourselves.

Andersen’s amusing Danish kid’s story is a cautionary tale for everybody.

 

Strict Republican loyalty undermines constitutional system

Gordon L. Weil

The drafters of the Constitution in 1787 wisely authorized Congress to control space travel, social media and driverless automobiles.

Of course not. 

The 39 men who created the Constitution could not have imagined the future. While they proposed a new system of government, their invention was a political design, not a detailed operator’s manual. 

They knew they could not foresee the future.  But basic features like federalism, three branches of government, checks and balances and regular elections were essential. How they worked might change, though their evolution should always respect the common values embodied in the Constitution. 

If natural evolution, consistent with those common beliefs, did not keep up with the development of the nation, the Constitution would be formally amended.   While it has happened less often than they thought, the Constitution has been amended 27 times.

The drafters’ assumption about the survival of their common beliefs has been badly disappointed.  Political practices they had envisaged to fulfill the constitutional plan are in tatters. 

The Constitution, even with its amendments, is a short document.  This column is twice as long as the entire article on the judicial system.   The brief document left much room for maneuver to those ready to abandon the underlying beliefs that made it work as the drafters had intended.

Warnings that democracy is in danger are a signal that the common beliefs underlying the Constitution are being replaced by a new set of understandings.  The broad scope of the Constitution allows those who reject the common beliefs underlying it to replace them with a more authoritarian system with less popular control.

There were plenty of gradual changes in the underlying understanding over the years, but the sharp detour occurred after the Republicans won the 1994 congressional elections. Speaker Newt Gingrich imposed strict party discipline similar to the way foreign parliaments operate but not previously used in Congress.

Since then, the GOP has developed strong party loyalty.  A Republican member of Congress is now more likely to toe the party line than to represent their state, district or personal beliefs. Party loyalty has produced added GOP political strength.  That kind of loyalty has extended to state politics.

Voting is an example of the new ways of government.  While the drafters only planned popular control to cover elections for the House of Representatives, the Constitution has been formally amended six times to expand popular control.  However, it has become a cornerstone of GOP policy to try to limit access to voting.

Through their control of state governments, Republicans have drawn congressional districts to reduce the power of some voters, often minorities.  They are now transferring authority from neutral election administrators to partisans who can freely disallow Democratic votes.  They undermine methods, like mail ballots, that have increased voting.

Trying to reduce citizen election participation as a way of holding onto office is clearly against constitutional intent and the essence of democratic government.

Historically, Congress has accepted that elections have results and that presidents should have the right to pick their top staff and federal judges.  Now, the GOP has chosen to undermine presidential choice.  Their refusal to even consider President Obama’s Supreme Court nominee was a glaring case.

GOP Sen. Ted Cruz single-handedly blocks most of President Biden’s key appointments to the State Department.  He won’t relent, he says, until Biden changes his foreign policy in Europe.  Biden has been denied his own team for almost a year.

Cruz’s move is part of a larger trend in which Republicans in Congress seek to control foreign policy, despite the Constitution assigning that power to the president. Of course, Congress can try to cut off funding for presidential actions it opposes, but it was not supposed to micro-manage foreign policy.

On routine matters, partisan war replaces normal mutual accommodation. Democrats and Republicans have boosted the public debt and they have usually jointly agreed to raise the debt limit. This year, the Senate voted to force the Democrats alone to do it, but only 14 Republicans out of 50 would agree to even that.

Biden seeks to respond to public concern about deep political divisiveness. He may harbor an impossible hope if the GOP persists on its path to power by relentlessly blocking the Democrats. The Dems increasingly will seek to do the same.

What is the Republicans’ goal?  It seems to be about gaining power for its own sake more than enacting a specific agenda.  They steadfastly oppose all Democratic proposals, but offer few positive proposals of their own and refuse to compromise.

In writing this column, I regret seeming partisan, because I strongly believe we need a healthy party system.  What worries me is that the system created in 1787 is becoming all about partisan politics at the expense of popular government.  

Abortion case: Much more than women's rights at stake

Gordon L. Weil

Abortion has again arrived at the U.S. Supreme Court.  The issue boils down to whether the Court will abandon its Roe v. Wade ruling that abortion is a federally protected right and leave the issue to the states.

Its decision could place abortion at the center of next year’s political campaigns.

Abortion may be the single most controversial national issue, but there is much more behind the conflict than the question before the Court. Because abortion has been so heavily politicized, its decision will affect both national politics and the Court’s own standing.

The formal question is whether the Constitution protects a woman’s right to have an abortion.  Roe supporters maintain that the natural right of a person to control their own body is protected.  Opponents reject any such right, because they argue that abortion ends the rights of another person, the fetus.

When people assert conflicting rights, they turn to government to determine or reconcile them.  Congress has avoided action.  In effect, the political decision that was too hot for Congress was passed to the Supreme Court, putting it in the middle of the controversy.

In Roe and later decisions, it ruled that federal protection of the abortion right exists in the early stages of pregnancy, but not afterwards.  Abortion opponents, including some state governments, reject those decisions and seek Roe’s reversal, ending all federal protection.

Unable until now to reverse Roe, some states, like Mississippi in the current case, keep trying to narrow the effect of the Court’s rulings. 

Drawing abortion into the center of partisan politics began decades ago. In 1969, President Richard Nixon launched the idea of a “great silent majority.” Ever since, the Republican Party has worked hard to activate that majority by encouraging and exploiting divisive social issues. 

These are “wedge” issues.  The Republicans expect to be repaid for backing dedicated advocates on these issues by gaining their votes.  The single-issue support gives them a blank check for unrelated policies.  For example, if you elect the GOP because of abortion, you give it a free hand on the environment.  

After the 1973 Roe decision, opposition to abortion became a leading wedge issue for the GOP.

The Court’s choice is whether to keep Roe, even with more limits, or declare that its previous decision was a mistake.  If the Court retains Roe in any form, abortion opponents will campaign hard for candidates who will back more supportive appointments to the Court and restrictive legislation. The GOP will inevitably exploit the issue.

If the Court overturns Roe, some believe the result will be a divided country in which some states protect abortions while others outlaw it.  The GOP would relieve some pressure, and an uneasy accommodation would occur.  That’s an illusion.

Anti-abortion advocates will shift their attention to the states, mostly Democratic, which protect the right.  These states will come under heavy pressure, and the GOP could seek to increase its active support there.  In short, the conflict would continue, driven by the GOP effort to gain control of state governments.

Either way, the Supreme Court’s ivory tower image would be tarnished.  Its decision would add to its being seen more as a political agency than as a judicial body.  Under continual pressure, it has arrived at this position by its retreat from Roe.

It could retain respect if it chose to keep a modified Roe on the grounds of following binding precedent.  Sen. Susan Collins reported that Justice Kavanaugh told her that he regarded the case as “settled law,” gaining her support by implying that he would defer to it as a Court precedent. 

Yet precedents are often reversed.  Now Kavanaugh looks ready to overturn Roe.   Either he offered her a hollow assurance or she mistakenly gave “settled law” more weight than it deserved.

The Court has been intentionally loaded with GOP appointees whose coolness to Roe is obvious. Stacking the Court for partisan purposes goes back to John Adams, the second president.  His Federalist justices dominated the Court long after his party had died.

Chief Justice John Roberts is trying to reduce the political effect of a Court decision. He seems ready to shorten the protected period, but keep Roe.  The nature of a good compromise is that both sides end up equally unhappy.  This could qualify as a compromise, but not the last word.

The decision, which will come in an election year, may be an historic turning point. While the issue is abortion, the struggle for political control and respect for the Supreme Court are fundamental concerns. 

Beyond arguing the merits of the abortion case, Democrats need to highlight more aggressively the broader political strategy linked with it. Voters should better understand the full implications of what is at stake in the case.

  

What Biden can learn from Trump -- promote yourself

 

Gordon L. Weil

There’s a huge difference between Donald Trump and Joe Biden. (You knew that.)

Last month’s unemployment numbers, reporting the fewest new applicants over more than 50 years, showed the difference.

Trump would have trumpeted that news and claimed that it was due to his historic efforts. No matter the truth of his claim, you could not have missed that the news was good, unusual and important. If you might consider voting for Trump, his loud and proud announcement could have left a favorable impression.

Biden failed to aggressively link himself to that good news. It passed in the daily parade of “breaking news,” but without the fanfare and credit-taking of his predecessor. The low unemployment sign-ups could boost an incumbent president, but not Biden.

The Dems seem to follow a Republican tactic – trickle down. The GOP often argues that when the rich do well, benefits trickle down to workers. The Dems seem to favor trickle down news. They expect benefits from their policies will effortlessly gain them political support from grateful recipients.

That approach failed for Barack Obama. In 2010, after the passage of the Affordable Care Act, the Republicans attacked it. The Democrats offered no coordinated national support, and the party was drubbed in the congressional elections. Obama’s good deed did not trickle down, at least not then.

The New York Times headlined “the disconnect between Biden’s popular policies and his unpopularity.” It cited programs that had brought direct and immediate benefits to people, but who claim he hasn’t helped them.

Maybe they separate the president from his policies. Maybe they are disappointed that he hasn’t ended Covid-19, his major focus at the outset.

The Times notes that other Democratic presidents also did not gain the acclaim Franklin D. Roosevelt received for his popular policies. But it misses the fact that FDR was a master of public relations and kept the focus on himself. Similar to Trump, he was always in the news and elicited strong reactions for or against him.

Biden is hampered by a splintered party. “Every little movement has a meaning all its own” was an old pop tune. The late Frank Mankiewicz, a true political insider, flipped it, noting that having many reform agendas meant “every little meaning has a movement all its own.”

Progressive groups saw Biden’s victory and Democratic congressional control as a rare opportunity to undertake major social legislation and for each to achieve its desired reforms. His inability to deliver on all their hopes has deflated their enthusiasm, weakening the Democrats’ chances of preserving their control after the 2022 elections.

On the right, moderate Democrats led by Sen. Joe Manchin (WV) resist major reforms and worry about losing swing supporters to the Republicans. Manchin has a critically needed vote in the Senate and has blocked large parts of Biden’s social program, strong election reform and ending the filibuster.

As a conciliator, he has tried not to confront Democrats whose support he needs, and has sought little recognition for his significant changes in government policy. It would be unrealistic to believe that Biden could have satisfied House progressives while pleasing moderate Manchin in the Senate.

In fact, he will have done well to get Covid-19 recovery spending, infrastructure and some major social policies adopted. Economic uncertainty and his public struggles with Democrats may cost him popularity. Perhaps he counts on using next year purely to campaign on his achievements. But he has to come back from a low point.

Gaining votes may be as much a matter of political packaging as about what’s in the package. Biden could pay for being too conciliatory. As a result, he has not aggressively promoted his role in producing major new initiatives designed to put money into the pockets of average people or deal with Covid-19.

He does not project the image of a powerful president who gets things done. Perhaps he needs to resist Manchin, even at the risk of losing his vote on a major issue. Does Manchin really want to take sole responsibility for killing his president’s proposal? If so, can Biden gain some esteem for fighting for himself?

His needs to have a strong, clear message. He has been in office for less than a year, and the progressives expected too much, too fast. Biden could claim his efforts are a work in progress. He needs stronger Democratic congressional control, which calls for Democratic unity, not Capitol Hill internal infighting.

If they are to succeed, Biden and the Democrats should understand that good deeds do not trickle down to people, but must be sold to them. People are not grateful beneficiaries; they are voters who respond to strong political messages.

In short, Biden could learn from FDR and maybe even from Donald Trump.

From Golden’s gambit to Rittenhouse verdict, a political grab-bag for the season

Gordon L. Weil

It may be early for packages under the tree, but Thanksgiving has offered a seasonal grab-bag of intriguing and important stories.  They range from Jared Golden’s gambit to almost unnoticed talks about the future of the U.S. Supreme Court.

The political system worked in mysterious ways.  As the U.S. House of Representatives struggled to decide on Biden’s social and environmental bill, two people stood out by their unusual moves.  One was House Republican Leader Kevin McCarthy and the other was Maine Democratic Rep. Jared Golden.

McCarthy apparently read the results of the 2021 elections as a sign the Republicans are on a roll. If he used opposition to Biden’s Build Back Better bill as a rallying point, he might give a new push to his hopes of becoming Speaker in 2023.

No great orator, he may have hoped that a record-breaking speech would gain him attention that his words might not.  He spoke longer than anyone ever had on the floor of the House.  It was about as impressive as the longest partial lunar eclipse in over 500 years, the same night. Few people stayed awake for either.

His questionable tactic failed. All he accomplished was to delay the House vote on BBB for a few hours.  No Republican vote was changed and Golden, the sole Democrat who voted against the bill, was likely engaging in a political maneuver that might work and make him look good to both sides.

Golden opposed one feature of the BBB among its many benefits for a lot of quite different groups.

Under current tax law, taxpayers who itemize their deductions can exclude no more than $10,000 in state and local property taxes. People in high-tax Democratic states, especially if they are wealthy enough to own expensive property, may pay a lot more than that. The bill would raise the limit to $80,000.

Many in Congress dislike that feature, but their districts would derive great benefits from BBB. So they reluctantly voted for the bill.  But Golden strongly opposed this aid to the wealthy, and he voted against the bill.

BBB now must be considered by the Senate, which is likely to cut that piece out of it.  The House will probably have to accept the Senate version.  Golden could then vote for the final bill. Running in a swing district, he could skillfully take credit for both finally lining up with the Democrats, but having stood alone against a tax break they favored.

Unlike such inside politics, the Rittenhouse case in Wisconsin grabbed national attention. Did young Kyle kill two people in self-defense or was he a right-wing vigilante asserting gun rights?  After his complete acquittal, sages lined up on both sides, drawing sweeping meaning from the decision.

The 12 jurors may not have seen their role as taking a position on these big questions.  Their first responsibility was to see if he was guilty “beyond a reasonable doubt” of illegal killings.  The system left it to these people to exercise their judgment on one person’s case, not to make a political statement for the country.

Maybe the prosecutors brought charges that were too extreme. Maybe Rittenhouse should not have gone to Kenosha, in a state where he did not even live.  But those factors could not count for the jurors.  Each juror had a reasonable doubt about his guilt. That’s all.

Cutting through all the clashing punditry, President Biden got it right.  "Look, I stand by what the jury has concluded," he said. "The jury system works, and we have to abide by it."

With public attention directed elsewhere, few were aware of a public session of the commission considering Supreme Court reforms. Yet it’s possible that such reforms would be more important than the other events.

Two interlinked issues dominate the Supreme Court review.  The Court is likely to be controlled by conservatives for many years, and it has come to act like a lawmaking body as much as a court.  Similar situations have existed earlier in American history.

With slim congressional majorities, the Democrats would like to make changes, especially those that can by handled by Congress without a constitutional amendment.  Enlarging the Court is being discussed, but the commission is divided on making such a recommendation.  It’s possible the reform effort could fizzle.

But the commission could look at two ideas.  Congress controls what the Court covers, making it possible to block some of its legislative moves. And, as I have previously proposed, Congress could authorize temporary justices, similar to what it now does for other federal courts.  That could improve the balance without permanently enlarging the Court.

What’s common to all these dubious gifts of the season, except possibly Golden’s, is how they mirror the deep political division in the country. 

Climate change comes slowly, at high price for consumers

 

Gordon L. Weil

The weak agreement at last week’s Glasgow climate change summit and double-digit rate increases for power and its delivery in the bills of Maine’s largest electric utilities have a lot in common.

They both showed that fighting climate change faces daunting obstacles, and it comes at great cost.

Facing entrenched economic interests, the U.N. summit struggled to agree on a new target for halting the steady increase in the world’s temperature.  It renewed hopes without much assurance they can be realized.  It recognized that goals set just a few years ago are being missed.

Some small island nations, facing the prospect of literally going under, issued desperate pleas. For example, the government of the Maldives, a group of islands in the Indian Ocean, claimed the country could soon be drowned out of existence.  Meanwhile, India, its big neighbor, refused to kick the coal habit.

Countries broadly agreed on the need to fight climate change. Who pays and how much could not be settled at a meeting of diplomats, where talk is cheap but change is not.  Tougher action might come next year.

Some countries have promised to fight climate change, but not kept their commitments.  The dangers remain. But, would American taxpayers back a seawall around the Maldives?  What about helping developing countries exposed to expensive energy standards that had not applied earlier to American and European industry?

The advanced economies grew partly thanks to the use of fuels, especially coal and oil, that are major contributors to rising temperatures.  Even today, U.S. taxpayers keep subsidizing oil producers, encouraging them to find more fossil fuels especially using high-cost fracking.

If Chinese, Indian or Australian coal production or the fate of far-away island countries seems beyond the reach of the daily lives of Americans, the issue of climate change and who pays to fight it comes home with every electric bill.

To get all electric production worldwide to come from renewable sources is estimated to cost between $8 trillion and $14 trillion.  After China, the U.S. is the second largest electricity consumer, so it faces a big bill to eliminate fossil fuel power.

When federal or state governments set out to reduce the huge American share of the total cost of reducing the effects of electric generation, they support few of their mandates with new taxes.  Openly advocating higher taxes for any purpose has become politically hazardous.

Paying the cost of moving to non-polluting power is left to electric customers. Politicians get to vote for laudable environmental goals without leaving fingerprints on the bill.  It encourages many of them to generously back new renewables and major power lines. 

All electric service is composed of two elements -- power generators and the wires for getting the power to the customer.

Power supply prices are supposed to be set by the market.  But governments can require that an increasing amount must come from renewable sources, displacing fossil fuels.  As these new resources develop, customers must pay the high start-up costs, and rates increase.

It will take many decades to phase out fossil fuels.  Meanwhile, their prices continue to be set without true competition. When state-market countries in the Middle East and Russia decide to manipulate prices, American oil companies, whose own costs have not increased, promptly follow the prices set by those countries.

When Mainers are told that their electric supply rates will increase because of higher fossil fuel costs, they have to accept bigger bills still mostly dictated by political decisions made elsewhere. Nearing self-sufficiency in fossil fuels means little to the U.S., if Americans pay Arabian prices. And it slows reductions in warming.

Economists delete fuel from what they call “core inflation.”  Inflation is supposed to show increases in production and distribution costs.  Fuel prices bounce around largely free from true cost changes while reflecting the price gouging practices of state-run economies.

The situation is even worse on the wires side of the electric business.  The federal government gives utility monopolies attractive profits to build lines connecting remote renewable sources to consumers.  The utilities like to build major transmission lines, paid for by end users, because that business produces good profits. 

In fact, the federal government gives utilities better profits for building high-voltage lines than the states give them for updating local delivery lines. 

The effort to reduce harmful emissions and halt climate change is widely supported.  If they try to accomplish more than merely making Glasgow-style promises, legislators tell regulators to shift the enormous bill onto consumers, boosting generator and utility profits along the way.

The increase in Central Maine Power and Versant bills will carry out government energy policies, both fighting climate change and boosting oil and utility industry profits.

That may look like a rate increase, but it will really be a tax increase that nobody sees.

“What’s the matter with America?” – people vote against themselves

 

Gordon L. Weil

“What’s the matter with Kansas?”

An 1896 editorial in a Kansas newspaper carried that headline.  It became a national mantra, revived in a 2004 book, a film – both with that title – plus a New York Times commentary last week.  They all concluded that average people often vote against their own best interests.

After this month’s elections, political pundits deployed in force.  Most explained to us Washington outsiders that the Democrats had suffered a bad loss, while Trump’s GOP won.  They urged the Dems to tap dance over to the right so they could keep alive their slim chances for the 2022 congressional elections.

If you ever wanted to know the definition of “conventional wisdom,” that was it.  In other words, the “experts” saw the Democratic Progressives having pulled the party and President Biden to the left, away from the political mainstream.  They paid the price at the ballot box.

In this view, the problem stemmed from the extreme policies unduly influencing a party clinging to a bare majority. Policies like paid sick leave, free community college and even tax increases on billionaires were too far ahead of what people would accept.  The country is “center-right” opined Democratic Sen. Joe Manchin (WV), not “center-left.”

Oddly, polling showed that a majority of Americans favor most “center-left” policies.  Maybe the pundits missed something that was bigger than issues.  Perhaps the view that people favored more moderate policies was not the cause of Democratic setbacks.

David Leonhardt in the Times took a different view from the pundits, one consistent with the Kansas book.  Democratic Party losses or narrow wins were not the result of its dalliance with the Progressive Left, but because it had lost its focus on the attitudes of average working people.

In its focus on appealing to suburban voters, traditionally backers of the GOP, it had assumed that generous federal spending would help it retain the support of middle income workers and their families.  It had failed to understand that many of these voters were driven more by their culture than their material interests, he wrote.

As often noted in this space, unhappy voters want change.  Government as usual has produced pointless wars, unresponsive officials, and troubled leadership. 

It’s not surprising that about one-fifth of Obama voters also backed Trump.  Obama embodied change and Trump, an aggressive businessman with no elective history, convincingly promised it.  In the end, Obama did not produce enough change and Trump abused his mandate.

Joe Biden offered calm and cooperation, but his pious hopes could produce neither.  In some respects, he embodied a return to the kind of government that people wanted changed.  The dangerously disorganized Afghanistan withdrawal and the endless haggling among congressional Democrats made him appear weak.

What had aided Trump’s appeal was his decisive style, even if it edged into being authoritarian.  His claim to have kept his promises had a ring of truth.  Even his critics would have to admit that he changed the way the federal government worked.

In effect, Trump’s presidency raised the question “What’s the matter with America?”  He wanted to slash medical insurance, reduce air quality and cut taxes for the wealthiest.  He let roads and bridges deteriorate. Yet he would gain the second largest popular vote of anybody who had ever run for president.

It’s possible that Trump has no deep-seated principles.  Instead, he recognized voter discontent with policies ranging from affirmative action to foreign wars and managed to make it look like he had led in shaping the opposition.  In reality, he exploited political and social discontent, and left what many saw as uncomfortable or fringe issues to the Democrats.

While this analysis may be pure speculation, conventional wisdom may itself be nothing more that that.  Cable “news” and social media spend little time reporting events and their background, while leaping into instant, poorly considered analyses.

For example, the GOP gain in the Virginia governor’s race is extensively interpreted as a nationally significant rejection of the Democrats in favor of Trumpism without Trump. Little attention is paid to the Democratic candidate’s well-intentioned, but breathtakingly inept gaffes.

Maybe something was the matter with Virginia, and it wasn’t about Trump.  But that’s too boring for the pundits.

Biden could benefit by asserting leadership of congressional Democrats to produce results, like the prompt post-election passage of the infrastructure bill.  It means taking bold, even risky action to get them to pass voting rights and popular parts of his economic and social programs.   

He should stop talking about his tough Scranton background and start acting like it. 

Biden is less than one year into his presidency and already he is being written off.  That’s too quick a judgment.  The challenge for him in the next year is less about policy and more about leadership. 

Covid 19 changed the economy; we won’t go back

 

Gordon L. Weil

To many people, “inflation” is a dirty word.

It means higher prices at the store and higher interest rates at the bank or auto dealer. The basic rule of inflation is that prices rise when too much money chases too few goods.

Yet the Federal Reserve, which can control the nation’s money supply, likes two percent inflation. That rate shows a growing economy in which business is trying to keep up with demand.  Along the way, that effort can create more jobs and, as a result, more demand.

The neat trick is to keep inflation from getting out of hand. If prices and interest rates increase too rapidly, the economy can slow down.   The mismatch between supply and demand becomes too great until the slowdown helps restore a more manageable balance.

For several years, the inflation rate has been at or below the Fed’s target.  But it has climbed in recent months and some market experts believe it will stay high.  They watch to see what moves the Fed will make to raise interest rates and when.  It will act sooner than planned.

Why is inflation increasing?  Its climb is yet another symptom of the Covid 19 pandemic.

When the coronavirus hit, the U.S. and much of the rest of the world hunkered down.  Some businesses closed, travel almost collapsed and many people began living on reduced incomes.  Less money was chasing fewer goods at the store – notably in the strange case of the run on toilet paper.  The federal government moved aggressively to prop up household incomes.

As the economy recovered from the depths of the pandemic, prices began to rise. That created inflation well above the target two percent, though the Fed concluded that the level is both natural, given the low 2020 base, and temporary.  The effect of the inflation surge can be seen in the big boost to Social Security payments for 2022.

While the Fed has been expected to allow small increases in interest rates as the economy returns to something like the 2019 level, what looked like temporary inflation now may extend as a changed economy begins to emerge.   The virus won’t go away and neither will its effect.

One of the biggest changes has come in labor.  Government policy assumed that almost all workers would want to come back to their own jobs just as soon as they could. Trucking companies, offices and restaurants were poised to open.  But something funny has happened on the way to recovery.

During the slowdown, workers had the time to learn something about their place in the market economy.  Employers have traditionally paid them at levels linked to the cost built into the prices they charge.

The Covid 19 quarantines allowed workers to better understand that their value to their employers was more than they were being paid.  Places of business closed for lack of workers.  If you withheld your labor, you might get paid more.  It began to feel like a giant national labor union.

Only a few months ago, debate raged over a $15 minimum wage.  Companies claimed that prices would have to increase, cutting sales and causing unemployment.  When workers did not return as expected, major employers boosted wages in an attempt to lure them back.  The minimum wage is now being set by the market and it could end up higher than $15.

Higher pay can translate into either higher prices, cuts to executive pay, or a reduction in booming investment gains.  Right now, it’s higher prices. That yields higher inflation than originally expected.

The prospect of better pay should bring more workers back to the job.  But what has been called the “Great Resignation” is also taking place.  The Covid break led some people to decide on a more simple, family-oriented life, even if that means less income.  When people start thinking “money isn’t everything,” the economy can change.

The impact of Covid 19 has been big enough to raise questions about the American economy itself.  The free enterprise system is alive and well, but the supply chain from some sources, especially China, has been disrupted.  Add to that the changed relationship of workers to their jobs and employers.

President Biden believes the historic opportunity now exists for increased government efforts to develop new economic and environmental rules and social policies.  The next 12 months should reveal if he is right.  If so, sooner or later, somebody’s taxes will have to increase.

Economic change is occurring.   Operating private enterprises is becoming more costly, possibly promoting labor-saving efficiency. In any case, people are likely to pay more and probably buy less.

That could look like inflation.  But it may turn out to be paying something closer to the real cost of what we need or want.

Democracy could commit suicide if elected leaders block voting

Gordon L. Weil

The wrong Maine senator gave the right U.S. Senate speech.

Sen. Angus King, the independent who aligns with the Democrats, recently argued strongly for a bill that would protect voting rights from efforts in many states to discourage voting or discard valid votes.

He showed that state laws supposedly to protect against election tampering were really attempts to suppress voting.  He said that such laws were aimed at fixing election defects that do not exist.

States passing these laws are under Republican control, but the GOP fears losing its dominance.  It wants to prevent Democrats from winning elections by reducing their valid votes.  King saw their recent moves as endangering democracy itself.

As he noted, the American political system is an “experiment.”  It tests whether government under the people, expressing their will through voting, works and can survive in a world where authoritarian rule has seemed to be the natural form of government.

Over the course of history, people have most often been under the control of either a single man or an elite group.  They have lacked the weapons to overthrow authoritarian rule.  In creating the American republic, the founders gave the people the necessary tool – the vote.

Popular control of government has spread around the world.  The U.S. did not invent democracy, but it has played the leading role in its adoption.

Yet democracy contains the seeds of its own potential destruction.  Voters may choose a government that then uses its legitimate power to curtail or eliminate democracy. In effect, the democratic system can commit suicide.

The simple reason why elected officials would endanger or destroy democracy is their desire to cling to power for their own ends.  Their drive to make their control permanent, even if it means undermining democracy, proves the truth of the famous assertion by a long-ago British leader: “All power tends to corrupt; absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

Sometimes they seek power for its own sake.  Or they may use the power of government to enrich an elite group.

That threat is why the system of government under the U.S. Constitution is considered an experiment.  It was endangered when a destructive mob of a few thousand people tried to seize the Capitol on January 6 to reverse the results of an election decided by tens of millions of people.

Attempts to prevent majority rule, the central element of democracy, have gone on as long as the U.S. has existed.  Yet the Constitution has been repeatedly amended to extend democracy by guaranteeing voting to all 18 and older, regardless of race or sex. It provided for popular election of senators and abolished the poll tax used by some states to screen out black voters.

Increasingly, GOP-run states limit access to the polls, and some give Republican legislatures the right to overrule election results.  They echo Trump’s self-serving charge, made with no proof, that massive cheating deprived him of victory in 2020.

Not one Republican senator voted in favor of a bill to prevent states from suppressing voting or overriding the popular vote.

King did not gain as much national recognition as Maine Sen. Margaret Chase Smith received for her “Declaration of Conscience” speech in 1950.  Backed by a few other Republican senators, she condemned Wisconsin GOP Sen. Joseph McCarthy for his phony anti-Communist campaign, smearing hapless victims.

Smith gained fame because she took on a member of her own party.  For her, principle did not conflict with her party.  She said the GOP could defeat the Democrats without resorting to McCarthy’s tactics.

The difference between Smith and King was that he was defending democracy by opposing the other party, the Republicans, while she defended it by taking on her own party. His warning was laudable.  Her declaration was both laudable and courageous.

Sen. Susan Collins, a Republican, says that Smith is her political model.  Having shown the courage to vote against the political impeachment of Bill Clinton and for the impeachment of Donald Trump because of his support of the January 6 insurrection, she might have been expected to speak out against the GOP assault on democracy.

Collins would have been the right senator to express the sentiments in King’s speech.

When a thoughtful senator like Collins falls in line with the anti-democratic actions of her fellow Republicans, it reveals the depth of political division.  The GOP’s policy boils down to crushing the Democrats, even if they represent a popular majority in a state or the country.

Compromise is now impossible, because there is no common ground.  Unless the Democrats can find ways to win elections despite GOP voter suppression, fair elections could be lost.    The real loser would not be either party, but the people.

Correction: Last week, I erroneously labeled the Ninth Amendment to the Constitution as the Eighth. 

Trump's Twitter lawsuit and upcoming Maine vote: constitutional rights claims used to mislead

Gordon L. Weil

Do these two issues have anything in common?

Donald Trump wants a court to order Twitter to lift its ban on his tweeting.

Maine voters will decide next month on Question 3, a constitutional amendment on food independence.

Both issues focus on individual rights, the basis of Americans’ freedoms.  And they both get it wrong.

As president, Trump used Twitter, a private social media site, to announce public policy.  He tried to block his critics from responding to his tweets. A federal court overruled him, saying that he used the site for public purposes so the people must have free access to comment on it.

Now, he flips the argument. After his backing of the January 6 insurrection, Twitter dropped him. He has gone to court claiming the site is violating his free speech rights. He seems sure to lose.

Meanwhile, the advocates of Maine’s Question 3 say they want to add to the state constitution a confirmation of the “natural” right of people to grow their own food.  Such a confirmation is no more necessary that the right to brush your teeth, so it raises the question whether stating the obvious may have a less obvious purpose.

These two cases illustrate three common misconceptions about individual rights. 

First, the Bill of Rights applies only to both the federal government and, in most cases, to the states and deals with the relationship between government and people not to conflicts between people.  Freedom of speech does not apply between Trump and Twitter.

Second, individual rights are not limited to those listed in federal or state constitutions.  All people have natural rights.  The Declaration of Independence states that all people “are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights.”

In other words, individual rights are part of the human package.  Not all are mentioned in the Bill of Rights, only those clearly protected from the government. The Eighth Amendment says: “The enumeration of rights in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.” No need to add “right to food.”

Third, no right is absolute. The rights of each person go only so far as they do not harm the rights of others.  The famous rule is that freedom of speech does not extend to yelling “Fire!” in a crowded theater.

This third misconception is being tested now. The government cannot prevent new religions from forming.  Suppose a person creates one for the purpose of asserting that their religion does not allow the Covid 19 vaccination.  Can that right be limited if a non-vaccinated person can spread the illness to others, who may fall ill or die?

Perhaps the most difficult role of the courts is to determine if a limit on an individual right is acceptable because that condition protects the rights of others.

In its decision on guns, the Supreme Court said that the Second Amendment assured people’s right to keep and use firearms for their own purposes, but government could impose some limits. Yet some gun control opponents maintain the right is absolute and cannot be subject to conditions.

Government may pass laws on rights beyond those listed.  It may impose safety and purity standards on food to prevent disease.  For many issues, private parties need to work out among themselves the degree to which they will respect rights that the Constitution makes the government respect.

And, as Trump is discovering, rights must be the same for everybody. Nobody is more equal than everybody else.

What’s wrong with enshrining the natural right to food in the Maine Constitution?  Won’t it amount to nothing more than possibly reducing the sales of canned peas?

Maybe, but the food independence movement may hide a broader agenda behind this proposal, which it seeks to have adopted worldwide. If it is considered absolute, it could reduce government regulation of food safety.  Cutting food regulation is similar to opposing gun regulation.

“We carry concealed weapons because we don’t trust others with our protection, and believe our security is primarily our responsibility,” writes one advocate. “Why do we not apply the same principles though to one of the most important aspects of our life – food?”

In other words, behind what seems to be harmlessly obvious may be an entering wedge to reduce government efforts to protect society.  It is likely a sign of the growing emphasis on stressing individual freedom above the community interest.

Like much of the discussion of freedom, the cornerstone of the American democratic system, much of what is said about Trump’s right to free speech, fighting the coronavirus or even the right to use a firearm or grow your own food is intentionally misleading.

Protecting personal freedom may require reading the fine print.

Dems, GOP splinter, leaving seven political parties scrambling for power

 

Gordon L. Weil

You can’t tell the players without a scorecard.

That’s not about the World Series. It’s about American politics today.

Conventional wisdom identifies two major political parties and a few minor ones.  But the current struggles over Biden’s Bring Back Better reveal that the Democrats and Republicans have morphed into seven distinct parties, each with its own agenda. 

The rise of parties results from the deep and bitter divisions between the two major parties  and their nearly equal split.  That means a party spinoff may be able to determine the ultimate decisions. Each spinoff  becomes its own party.  Here’s the political scorecard.

The Biden Administration and Trump in Exile are the two presidential parties.  Biden wants to stay in power and reverse Trumpism.  Trump seeks a comeback to restore his policies and reverse Biden’s big government efforts before they take root.

As president, Trump rejected the domestic and foreign policies that had evolved, often with the support of members of both parties, since World War II.  Trumpism is based on a radical reduction in government involvement in the economy and environment plus “America First” in foreign policy. 

Trump showed little interest in protecting minorities and upholding the American political tradition.  While he could exercise strong leadership, it was chaotic and destructive. His election appeal yielded him control of the Republican Party.  Trump’s fans: 30 states, mostly small  plus Texas and Florida.

Biden has chosen the exact opposite approach.  Less forceful than Trump but equally determined and better informed, he has proposed major federal spending on programs to quickly produce tangible benefits.

His obvious goal is to influence the 2022 congressional elections, strengthening the Democrats’ ability to block a Trump revival. Biden’s fans:  20 large coastal states with a popular majority.

Despite the growth of presidential power, Biden and Trump each need backing from enough members of Congress to promote and protect their policies.  Biden’s program depends on unified congressional Democrats, which he does not have. Trump’s future depends on a unified GOP, which he does not have.

Biden’s proposals, priced originally at about $6 trillion, provide the setting for the five congressional parties to test their strength.  Two are Republican and three are Democratic. They range from right to left across the political spectrum.

Trump Republicans are on the extreme right.  In both houses of Congress, they are usually the majority of the Republicans.  As the GOP, they want less government and, as Trumpers, they are unquestioningly loyal to their leader, thanks to his surefire vote-getting appeal.

Because the Republicans have signed on with Trump, their leaders in Congress – Sen. Mitch McConnell and Rep. Kevin McCarthy – head this party. Its policy is simply to block Biden, which it often can, so long as the filibuster survives.  Their fans: Trump’s states.

Traditional Republicans come next.  They are politically conservative but not aligned with Trump. They are a small group in the House of Representatives and a sometimes invisible group in the Senate.  They control little, but seek to keep alive the causes of political conservatism and compromise.

This party’s leader is Rep. Liz Cheney, the Wyoming Republican who defies McCarthy’s demands for Trump loyalty.  Cheney boldly resists, while Maine Sen. Susan Collins, an occasional member, desists in the face of Trumpism.  Their fans: so far, only a handful of House districts.

Moderate Democrats come next on the right-left spectrum.  They are led by Sen. Joe Manchin and include Maine Rep. Jared Golden.  They believe they can bring GOP voters aboard in 2022.  If they won’t give some ground, they could fatally undermine Biden’s hopes. Chances are they won’t block a deal. Their fans: GOP leaning states and districts.

Traditional Democrats are headed by House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, who maneuvers to gain help from other Democrats to control the House.  In the Senate, with Vice President Kamela Harris’ tiebreaker and the Moderates, Senate Leader Chuck Schumer has a majority but can’t overcome a GOP filibuster. They back Biden. Their fans: Urban, coastal states.

Democratic Socialists, led by Sen. Bernie Sanders, are on the extreme left.  They support broad reforms and have some Biden support. They can block a House Democratic majority.  Their opponent is really the Moderates.   They want Biden to accept them as essential to their party’s future success. Their fans: Some urban areas.

Despite this scorecard, this is not a game. To avoid complete political paralysis, there must be a compromise. While the GOP may be involved in an historic internal war, the Democrats are likely to reach an agreement among themselves.  Biden will settle for what he can get.

Ultimately, these parties are all about Trump.  The Democratic parties seek ways to achieve a big win over Trump, while the GOP mostly continue to rally around his blue banner.

Debt ceiling crisis is pure politics, undermining U.S. world leadership

Gordon L. Weil

You want to borrow some money.  The bank will make the loan, because you have an excellent credit history and valuable property to back up your ability to repay.

Later, you tell the bank you won’t be making any more loan payments.  The bank says that your credit is so good, you can even borrow some more. But you decide you have too much debt and prefer to stop paying on your existing loans.

The bank is dumbfounded.  It warns that you would destroy your top-flight credit rating and won’t be trusted the next time you seek a loan.  Even if the bank lends you money in the future, it will charge a much higher interest rate, maybe even placing a lien on your property.  

You are torn between ending debt payments until you can slash your personal spending or avoiding destroying, possibly forever, the good credit rating you have built over the years.

Now substitute the U.S. for yourself in this story and you have the great debt ceiling crisis of 2021.

Congressional Republicans want the Democrats to take the responsibility for the national debt having climbed, though that has taken place over decades under both parties. 

They want to stymie President Joe Biden’s economic plans, though he says it would depend less on debt than on tax increases on the wealthiest people.   The Democrats have helped the GOP by wrangling among themselves about how much of the Biden proposals they will support.

So the GOP has blocked an increase in the debt ceiling. They will only agree to a short-term patch, but keep the crisis going.

The debt ceiling is pure politics.

Congress and the president enact spending bills that commit the U.S. to pay for government programs. The Treasury pays the cost using tax money and, if necessary, it borrows the rest.  The repayment of the amounts borrowed plus interest become part of the federal budget.

When passing spending laws, if Congress does not either cut some other spending or raise taxes, it inevitably requires more borrowing.  It may unrealistically assume that the growing economy will send Washington more tax revenues, but it accepts the likelihood of more debt to pay the bill.

Congress also adopts a debt ceiling, meant to impose a limit on total borrowing. When the amount of outstanding debt bumps up against the ceiling, it is increased.  The debt ceiling serves as an easily ignored notice that Congress may be spending too much without necessary taxes.

The Republicans controlled the federal government when Donald Trump was president. In those years, Democrats joined the GOP in raising the debt limit.  The bills had to be paid.

The debt ceiling war is dangerous.  If the ceiling is taken seriously and not increased, two major options loom.  The government would shut down spending on its normal operations, and use tax revenues to make debt payments.  Or it could stop making debt payments and default on its debt.

The shutdown would lead to a blame game.  That could hurt either party or both.  But default is worse.

The U.S. dollar is the world currency. Some currencies are not backed and their value can tumble, but not the dollar. It is used in most international transactions. Countries believe that the U.S. will back the value of the dollar and that its powerful national economy will always protect it. Some countries even use the U.S. dollar as their national currency.

The role of the U.S. as the dominant world power probably results less from its military might than on the dollar, accepted even by America’s adversaries. The world has opted to depend on the American economy and the certainty that the U.S. will back the dollar by paying its debts.

If the U.S. defaults on its debt, it also defaults on its role as the world’s leading power.  That’s a lot to risk in playing partisan politics in Congress.  GOP leader Mitch McConnell has too narrow of view of the game he is playing.  Even his current debt ceiling threats undercut American power.

The 14^th Amendment to the Constitution says: “The validity of the public debt of the United States, authorized by law, ...shall not be questioned.”  President Biden could ignore the debt ceiling and make debt payments as “authorized by law.”  Ultimately, the Supreme Court could either uphold the Constitution or keep out of this obviously political game.

In the future, each spending bill should include the sentence: “The debt ceiling is hereby adjusted to the extent required by this appropriation of funds.”  That would end the dangerous political games.

At the end of this year’s war, the dollar, now damaged, is likely to survive as the standard, at least for a while longer. 

New AUKUS pact again pits Europe against the ‘Anglo Saxons’

Gordon L. Weil

It was about midnight when the lights went out in Brussels.  It happened during a 1965 meeting of the foreign ministers of the six member countries of the European Community, the forerunner of the EU.

I was the only American present, serving as an “official spokesman” for the international staff.  That night, I could not realize that I was witnessing a piece of history that would play out in 2021.

Soon after the lights went, so did the French foreign minister.  Refusing to be outvoted on a policy that France opposed, he walked out. He stayed out six months until the others caved in.

After World War II, France, Germany, Britain and the U.S. promoted the idea that by integrating the economies of Western Europe, a third world conflict could be prevented.  That would remove a major threat to Britain and offer the U.S. a strong ally rather than yet another world war.

General Charles De Gaulle, the leader of France’s comeback against Nazi Germany, was the French president.  While he favored ties with Germany, he disliked the British and worried about American influence on Europe through its English-speaking ally. He believed France could lead Europe.

De Gaulle openly sneered at the “Anglo-Saxons” – Britain and America.  He wanted a European defense force independent of the U.S. and would quit NATO military cooperation.   In 1963, France vetoed Britain’s application to join the European Community. I joined the international staff that year, and the French were not pleased.

In 1967, Britain tried again. This time it was led by British Prime Minister Harold Wilson and most Brits favored the application. By then I was a journalist and one evening joined three British colleagues in Brussels to have a beer with Wilson, who laid out his strong case for membership.

Through its walkout, France had made sure it dominated European affairs, so it was no problem for De Gaulle to dash Wilson’s hopes.

After the French tired of De Gaulle and he left the presidency, Britain was at last able to join the European Union in 1973.  In succeeding years, the Brits proved some of what De Gaulle had said was correct.  The U.K. demanded special treatment to protect its own historic ways of governing.

As Europe continued economic integration, Britain increasingly found itself forced to follow rules made by the EU, including admitting workers from Eastern Europe. Putting their seal on De Gaulle’s objections, in 2016 the British people voted to leave the EU. Painfully, by 2020 Brexit had happened.

De Gaulle’s forecast lived on.  It has just cropped up again last month, and this time the U.S. played the central role.

The U.S., U.K, and Australia have just agreed to the AUKUS pact, giving the Land Down Under its own nuclear submarines.  The Aussies and Brits could help the U.S. discourage China from deploying its growing fleet to back its false maritime claims in Asian waters. The U.K. already has its warships there.

But Australia had previously agreed to buy from France diesel-powered subs, vessels not really up to the task.  It suddenly reneged, though no AUKUS participant gave the French much advance notice. Not only had France seen Britain quit Europe, but it also saw the U.K. throw itself into an “Anglo-Saxon” alliance.  Echoes of De Gaulle.

The split could encourage French President Emmanuel Macron in his efforts to promote a European political-military operation independent of the Americans and British.  Since Donald Trump, who favored Brexit and spurned NATO, European trust of the U.S. has fallen.

The result might yield an independent Europe rather than a dependent U.S ally.  That could force the U.S. to take account of differing and sometimes opposed European strategies even if developed by countries that share many of America’s views of the world. 

But there’s also a broader lesson from this story. 

Every day, news reports arrive accompanied by instant analyses of what events mean.  Heated and hasty opinion drowns out the news. 

When Trump or Biden have made controversial moves, the pundits have wasted little time drawing conclusions and pontificating about dire long-term effects.  What seems to be a major mistake often fades in importance, hardly derailing the presidency. The analysts’ views mostly reflect their biases, which they want us to swallow.

When De Gaulle vetoed the British, my instant analysis, based on my biases and wishful thinking, was that he would be proved wrong. It looked that way for a while.  Now, Brexit and AUKUS show “the General” nailed the Brits.  It only took 58 years. What goes around, comes around, sometimes awfully slowly.

The lesson? We should pay more attention to knowing and understanding what’s happening, not let our biases overwhelm our thinking, and skip snap judgments on current events. 

Despite rush to unity after 9/11, U.S. remains historically divided

 

Gordon L. Weil

As the U.S. marked the 20^th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, the pundits came out in full force. 

Many lamented that the sense of national unity in 2001 had been so quickly replaced by deep divisiveness.

The Al Qaeda attacks gave all Americans, regardless of their political views, a common enemy.  The country immediately united, and Congress granted the federal government unusually strong powers to fight terrorism.  A token of that common commitment was the Patriot Act, giving the government the power to violate privacy.

At two earlier major turning points in American history, people had also displayed national unity. At those times, most Americans understood they faced a common adversary.  Yet, beneath that unity, a deep split existed.

The first event was the war against Britain to win American independence.  The Declaration of Independence of July 4, 1776 is mostly a long list of bitter complaints against the British king for failing to give the colonists, most having British origins, the same rights as their fellow Brits. Instead, he treated them as second-class underlings.

The opposition to arbitrary British rule was strong enough to yield independence even among people that could not agree on treating their African underlings as they wanted to be treated by the British.  On slavery, Americans were deeply divided.

Southern colonies threatened not to join in declaring their independence if the northern colonies insisted on condemning slavery in line with the theory that “all men are created equal.”  For them, slavery might be more important than independence. 

The North wanted independence above all and dropped a reference to slavery from the draft Declaration.  That decision, papering over a deep split, may be the basis of the centuries of divisiveness that have followed.

Another wave of national unity came after the Pearl Harbor attack on December 7, 1941 that brought the United States into World War II.  Divided just the day before, the country unified to fight the Nazis and Japan. Once again, deep differences, this time over the huge economic and social changes brought by President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal, were set aside.

In these two cases and the reaction to 9/11, Americans showed they would unite against a common foe.  But divisiveness, so much deplored today, was always present. Unity in favor of a common goal, other than winning a war, has always been elusive.

The common theme of divisiveness goes back to the Revolution and continues uninterrupted today.  The conflict over race could have been settled by the Civil War, but it wasn’t. The North won its cause of preserving the Union.  But the South won its cause of preserving racism.

Just as the colonies had rebelled against Britain, the Confederacy rebelled against the United States.  The American flag became a worldwide symbol against tyrannical rule, and the rebel flag became a national symbol of resistance to government limits on a person’s rights. 

The Confederacy’s Stars-and-Bars came to represent the assertion of individual rights against government.  That sentiment extended to opposition to official authority on many issues, and the Confederate flag could be seen all across the country.

In recent decades, it was finally recognized as a symbol of racism, which became increasing difficult to profess publicly.  Only with the arrival on the national scene of Donald Trump was the stigma of harboring racial prejudice somewhat relieved through attacks on “political correctness.” 

Trump flags fly as Confederate banners once did. Like the Confederate flag, they may mean less about Trump as a political figure than serving as an expression of personal defiance of governments, seen as limiting personal rights.

Today, a conflict exists between governments that require vaccinations and wearing masks to control Covid 19 and opponents who believe that such demands violate their personal rights.  At its core, this conflict is political and regional.

Eleven states in the South joined the Confederacy, trying to break away from the United States to preserve slavery.  Now, nine of those states are among those with the worst vaccination records and nine, duplicates except for one, are among the states with the highest case rates.  Only Virginia is absent from both lists.

Nine of the formerly Confederate states voted for Trump in 2020. Most are trying to change their voting rules to undermine expanded voting by African-Americans and Hispanics to ensure that traditionally conservative GOP control can continue.

While Americans may unite against a common threat, history shows more evidence of division that it may have its roots in the compromise that brought 13 colonies together to declare their independence. It has deepened as the two sides reach almost equal political strength.

Divisiveness is American, and the battle between public health and individual rights amounts to another Civil War.  The depth of division may, as before, threaten the American system of government.

Supreme Court rules on abortion as Congress defaults; becomes real federal legislature

Gordon L. Weil

The U.S. Supreme Court just sent a strong signal that it could soon change its collective mind and rule that a woman has no constitutionally protected right to have an abortion.

By taking no action on an appeal to suspend a new Texas law, it took a giant step toward acting as the national legislature.  It took charge, because of a vacuum left by Congress.  Forget about three equal branches of government and their checks and balances. 

The Court allowed into effect a Texas law that limits access to abortions to the point of eliminating it.   Texas tried to dodge responsibility for its own law by only allowing private parties to enforce its extreme terms.

Congress has passed no abortion rights law, leaving the Supreme Court to create such rights. That makes it the federal lawmaker, despite claims by justices that they only apply the law but do not make it.

All nine justices recognized that Texas wants to outlaw abortions. What the Court has legislated as a right, it looks about ready to repeal.

Justices understood that, by allowing the law to go into effect, abortions in Texas would stop.  Providers lack the resources to withstand a possible flood of cases, even if many have no factual basis.  The law raises major political and constitutional issues.

The five-member majority quietly let the law go into effect, leaving abortion providers to find some way to bring an acceptable legal action against it.  It is possible, they noted, that a Court decision more than a century ago could block it from second-guessing state courts.

Chief Justice John Roberts wrote that the law should be suspended until the federal court system ruled on it using normal legal filings and hearing procedures.

Roberts was supported by the three justices considered to be liberals.  But they also noted that, in their view, the Texas law violated the Court’s own earlier decisions allowing abortions.  

The Court long ago adopted the principle that it would usually stick to earlier constitutional decisions on which people relied.  Sen. Susan Collins said that, before voting to confirm Brett Kavanaugh as a justice, he agreed that abortion rights were such “settled law.”

The Court chose one earlier decision, limiting its ability to overturn a state’s action, over another, a woman’s right to an abortion in the first three months of pregnancy with no state allowed to stop it.  Before ruling on the constitutional conflict between its decisions, it effectively decided – for the state.

Its refusal on procedural grounds to delay the Texas law permitted a result that it had previously found illegal.  That way of thinking could ripple across the states on other issues, and that’s why Roberts wanted first to follow usual judicial procedures.

Whatever the effect of the Court’s failure to act, it deployed a method it increasingly uses to avoid taking clear responsibility.  It has reduced the number of its formal decisions, substituting the so-called “shadow docket” to make major rulings.  Under it, without hearings or legal briefs, key decisions are hidden by making them seem only procedural.

The Trump administration sought such quick action 41 times in four years and won 28 times.  In the 16 years of the G.W. Bush and Obama administrations, it was used only eight times. It seems conservative justices prefer fast answers and little transparency.

The Democrats may have worried about losing a vote to establish a federal right to an abortion, which would put the Roe v. Wade decision into law.  But public opinion now seems to encourage such a bill, and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi says one will be offered.

While such a bill might pass in the House, its success in the Senate is less likely.  Still, the Democrats see the Court’s shadowy feint at repeal of Roe v. Wade as a winning political cause for them.

Congress has the constitutional authority to shape the Supreme Court’s powers. It could control the use of the shadow docket and even limit the Court’s ability to determine if laws are constitutional.  That power is itself derived from a Court decision in 1803, not from the Constitution.

President Biden has created a commission to look into the Supreme Court.  Should the Court be enlarged to reduce conservative control?  Court packing is not politically popular, but there’s a way to appoint temporary federal judges. They could redress the political balance and then gradually be phased out as vacancies occur.

Whatever comes from the Texas matter, action to reverse the unelected Court’s growing legislative power seems overdue.  For Congress to regain the elected branch’s control of legislation requires the Senate to end the filibuster so that both houses can make decisions by majority vote.