Sheila Kennedy has a good post (but, of course she does!) entitled “Who Are We?” She discusses a Brett Stephens column (so, I’m at least a third level of abstraction here) and concludes:

The pertinent question is the one Stephens first identified: who are we? And the answer is, we are a country with sound and valuable ideals–granted, a country that often falls short of those ideals–a country with a majority of citizens who are devoted to those ideals, but who are currently demoralized by a loud and angry tribal minority that is working to abandon the principles the rest of us struggle to achieve.

Ukraine is fighting Russia. We are fighting the enemy within.

I’d suggest there are a good number of tribal factions demoralizing us, but otherwise fully agree with her point. Our media landscape is structured to reward content that draws attention, and the most reliable way to draw attention is to make people angry. Negative partisanship, in turn, is a reliable way to provoke anger. Cable news wants you to tune in and stay tuned through the commercials. Its programming is a means to that end. Twitter and Facebook want you to click and keep scrolling. Loud voices telling you to hate the Other or to be afraid because They are trying to get you are a good way to keep you plugged in. The relentless negativity begins to seep in and even people who have things pretty good begin to resent the world in which they live and take for granted or even vilify institutions which they really ought to appreciate.

In my mind, the Russia-Ukraine situation really underscores that latter point. Hobbes observed that life in a state of nature was solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short. The institutions we have created – our military, courts, banks, government, transportation and communication infrastructure, etc. – are designed to insulate us from that state of nature. When they are insulating us properly, we can take them for granted and focus narrowly on their shortcomings. And, to be sure, there are shortcomings. But when an asshole with enough firepower undertakes to take them all away, it becomes easier to appreciate some of the things our predecessors have built and left us with.

It’s ridiculous to think that a megalomaniac in Canada or Mexico would some day be rolling into the U.S. precisely because we have grotesquely overspent on our military. It’s less ridiculous to fear that we would do that to others because of our own checkered past when it comes to respecting the sovereignty of other nations. We should teach that history and learn from it without whitewashing it; but, at the same time, we need not resign ourselves to the idea that these misdeeds constitute our essence. And if the military could not protect us from a neighboring megalomaniac, how would we react when the banks no longer functioned, when the courts were no longer available and individual violence was the only way to resolve disputes, and when government offices are abandoned or populated with foreign puppets? Or maybe the banks collapse and currency is no longer reliable? Rather than annoyingly slow during construction season, roads are cratered and impassable and the only remotely trustworthy news you can gather comes from whatever you can gather off of shortwave radio when the sun goes down and the signal gets stronger.

I suppose this is just a periodic reminder – to myself as well as anyone who happens to read – that there is also joy in the world. Improvements to the status quo should always be welcome, but don’t fail to appreciate what you have and know that, if history is any guide, things can always get so, so much worse.

Larry DeBoer, Everybody’s Favorite Economist (TM), has a good post on the subject of how inflation might impact local government finance in Indiana. If inflation caused property values, assessed values, income, and permitted levies to all increase at the same time, it wouldn’t be that much of a problem. But the system isn’t structured to allow that to happen. There is a lag between properties increasing in value, the properties being assessed for that increased value, and the increased assessment hitting the tax bill. Permissible tax levies are allowed to increase by the state’s growth quotient which takes into consideration the previous 6 years, so low inflation years prior to a high inflation year will limit the inflationary effect on the growth quotient. There’s also a 6% limit on the increase in maximum levies, so such levies could not catch up to inflation that exceeds 6%.

Larry explains the issues better and in more depth than I do, so his post is definitely worth checking out directly.

I had this thought when I was reading a thread about whether masks work to reduce transmission. I fully believe they do. More importantly, smarter people who study such things believe they do. But the reality of the situation is beside the point. When I read the back and forth in this thread, it occurred to me that, while the anti-maskers in that particular thread were arguing about the various statistics, it wouldn’t matter what the numbers were. The truth of the matter was beside the point. The point was mainly for conservatives* to disagree with liberals.** (*Conservatives are those who are not liberals. **Liberals are those who are not conservatives. They need one another to maintain their respective identities.)

This is not a one sided affair. I’ve seen discussions of, for example, alleged police brutality cases where, as more facts came out, the context showed the use of force was reasonable. That didn’t change anyone’s minds about who the good guys and the bad guys were.

In these situations, people aren’t really arguing about what they’re arguing about. They’re not necessarily worried about the specific case. Rather, they chose the specific case as ammunition (or found themselves on the receiving end of that ammunition) in a larger argument. When that’s the case, getting into the weeds about the details of the specific case isn’t likely to be productive because the bigger issue is simply reflexive antagonism toward the other side.

If someone is arguing in good faith, by all means engage with them. But if they’re just entertaining themselves and will move the goal posts if the argument doesn’t go in their favor, then why bother? (Other than to entertain yourself if you’re into such things.)

This was part of an even longer post I wrote a few years back. I stumbled across it again recently and thought it was worth a re-post.

The free market begins with a fence

Part of the resistance to making different choices about the free market and the various priorities given to property rights is a denial that choices have been made in the first place. “Property isn’t a choice. It’s a ‘natural’ right.” With all due respect to John Locke and the Founding Fathers, property does not exist in a state of nature. Without human-made laws and a government to back them up, you don’t have property. You have an opinion. Where there is a difference of opinion, in the state of nature with no government, the person who can bring the most force to bear is going to win the argument. (And, I might mention, that it really grinds people’s gears when I point out that there is no property without government. They think they hate government, and they love the idea of property rights. The idea that property rights are dependent on government seems to create a cognitive dissonance that must be really uncomfortable.)

In a state of nature, land belongs to everyone and no one. That changes when you can separate your land with a fence provided that you can also have government employees with guns convince the rest of the world to respect your fence as something more than a flimsy barrier. Having established ownership to the land, you can claim rights to the crops grown there and the minerals underneath the land. You can demand compensation for these things. You can withhold them from others altogether. Where once people could theoretically live off the land without your say-so, now they are forced to go elsewhere, pay you, or do work for you in order to use that land. And then we’re off to the races – a system of property laws, contract laws, courts, and police enforcing those laws form a structure without which markets would not work.

And none of this is inherently bad. Let me repeat for the benefit of those who might think my intent is to savage property rights: I like property rights. Property rights and the markets that they allow have done a great deal of good. Why bother working, creating, or taking risks if you cannot lay claim to the fruits of those endeavors? But, striking the appropriate balance can be tricky. When people work collaboratively to create value, how do you allocate the profits from that effort? The Panglossian view is that “the market” will magically allocate profits to people according to their worth. We can rest assured that, if the market is allowed to work without government interference, money acquired is money earned. But the existence of markets is a product of government interference. No government means no property and, therefore, no market. So, as the joke goes, we’ve already established what you are, now we’re haggling over the price. The market doesn’t reward value, it rewards leverage. Bringing more value to the common endeavor is a form of leverage. But so are property rights. Being able to keep your labor or machines or product on the sidelines until prices rise — without worrying about how you’re going to feed your family — is another form of leverage.

We can adopt policies that alter the leverage various people have in a transaction and alter the allocation of profits from economic activity. Some options could definitely lead us to a worse place – the Soviet Union and Venezuela are flamboyant examples (although, I guess I’ve seen some stats that suggest the lot of your average Russian peasant actually improved under Soviet policies, so your starting point matters). What do I have in mind? An increased minimum wage, stronger rights for unions, single-payer health care, better public transportation, more walkable neighborhoods, and increased spending on schools and particularly paying teachers more and giving them more control over teaching, incentives or laws for fewer hours worked and improved benefits, better unemployment benefits and family leave benefits, maybe even a Universal Basic Income. How are we going to pay for this? Taxes obviously.

And, I guess there are three basic reasons why I’m o.k. with this: first, there are some instances where we get more bang for our buck spending through the government than we do going through the private market; second, I’m o.k. having less money if I end up happier; and third, there’s wealth disparity that could stand to be redistributed. (See above, wealth acquired isn’t necessarily wealth earned).

Contrary to conservative dogma, sometimes the government is more efficient than the private market. The big example I have in mind is healthcare. Other countries with significant government regulation of healthcare markets get the same or better healthcare results for their people than the U.S. does. There isn’t an example in the world of a less regulated healthcare system that delivers better results for less. My tiny example is in-house printing at the Legislative Services Agency. LSA used to hire out printing of the General Assembly’s bills. When they attempted to bring it in-house, they met stiff resistance from a conservative Senator who took it as a matter of faith that having government employees do the work would raise the price. It saved millions with a two-thirds reduction in printing appropriations. I’m not, by any means, suggesting that the government is always more efficient than private spending; but sometimes it is. So, we should dismiss it out of hand. If I’m paying money out in taxes rather than paying it out in insurance premiums, I don’t mind the higher taxes. It’s all the same to me if I’m getting health care. I’m delighted if I’m getting more and better health care services.

Second, I also don’t mind higher taxes if I end up poorer but happier. I might be an outlier here, but if I have less spending money, but my community is healthier, happier, better educated, and generally more functional, I think I’m going to be happier. Not because of any excessive altruism on my part, but because living in such a place ultimately brings me more joy than I’d get from having those extra tax dollars in my pocket.

Third, the wealthy are just hoarding a lot of the wealth. I don’t think having that extra money to flow to them has a lot of social utility. If everyone gets paid the same regardless of effort or output, then the economy is going to flounder. Why bother working, investing, or creating? But there has to be a point of diminishing returns. Is a guy really going to work harder for a billion than he does for a hundred million? If not, then you’ve wasted $900 million which could probably be put to better use elsewhere. There’s some fat we can trim here.

I could be wrong, of course. But there is a fair amount of evidence, both historically and internationally, that what we have now is not inevitable and is not the best of all possible worlds. We need to look at what’s working elsewhere and cultivate our garden.

I can’t remember if I’ve mused about this here before, but there’s a thought experiment I keep coming back to when I hear about what Fallen Times we live in. And, trust me, I understand the complaint. The Bad News is relentless. But the news and social media is looking at the world through a fun house mirror. How bad is the reality in comparison to other times? So, the thought experiment is to wonder which previous decade I’d rather live in. For the sake of the argument, I assume that I wouldn’t be living in that time as a heterosexual white man. (The reason for that assumption is to avoid mistaking “better times” for “times that seem better because of the fruits of oppression or discrimination.”)

My conclusion is that things today aren’t much worse than they’ve ever been and, in a lot of respects, are better than they’ve been historically. It doesn’t mean that we can’t aspire to something better, but nostalgia is a helluva drug & the Bad News might have us more depressed than the circumstances really justify.

Just riffing on Sheila Kennedy’s blog post about that WSJ column that criticized Dr. Jill Biden’s use of the title “Dr.” I didn’t read the column – because when’s the last time I found something useful in the Wall Street Journal opinion pages? but I heard about it because my wife definitely recognized the sexism at the root of the column. (Short version – as I understand it – she shouldn’t go by “doctor” because she holds a Ph.D. instead of an MD. Which is nonsense.)

Anyway, it made me think of a more or less conscious decision I made at some point to go by “Doug” in my professional career as often as I can. There are some pretentious gasbags in the legal profession (but not as many as you might think), and I didn’t want to be lumped in with them. Mr. Douglas J. Masson, Esq., JD or whatever, just isn’t my style. And, I kind of roll my eyes when someone has an email signature with a bunch of letters indicating certifications and credentials appended to the end. I’m glad you have expertise that will inform your work, but I’m going to have to see the expertise in action. The credentials themselves are not going to impress me. I’ve never been one to be awed by people with a lot of education or to conclude someone isn’t smart for lack of an education. (The “aww shucks” farmers will often fleece you faster than the guy with the MBA.)

That said, over the years I’ve become more aware that my ability to pull off the “just Doug” thing as a professional is something that, to a certain extent, comes from a place of privilege. Almost everything about me conforms to traditional notions of what it means to be a professional: I’m an upper middle-class educated white male with a neutral accent and (pre-COVID) often dressed in a coat and tie. I can be slightly transgressive by using my first name with no credentials because that’s not going to stop anyone from taking me seriously. (And, I guess for the few who will treat me dismissively on account of not putting on airs, I’m happy enough that they won’t see me coming.)   When I was a college student, I was a work-study employee in one of the departments, and there was a professor who — at the time — struck me as being a little more insistent than everyone else about making sure everyone called her by her title. I generally went out of my way to call everyone Mr., Mrs., Dr., Professor, or whatever was appropriate just as a matter of course. But seeing her correct others on a few occasions was, nevertheless, a little off-putting. What I had no appreciation of at the time was the context in which she was doing this. I’m sure she had to fight a little harder for respect than the men in her field.

I don’t have a huge point to make here. Just noting a bit of the cultural context in which the discussion of titles is taking place.

In honor of Indiana’s 204th birthday, I’m just going to re-post my bicentennial entry which, if I do say so myself, was pretty good:

The bicentennial is finally upon us. 200 years ago today — on December 11, 1816 — President Madison signed the Congressional resolution admitting Indiana into Union as a state.

So we come now to the end of our story. It was a tale that, as they say, grew in the telling. When I started writing, I had a vague notion of a couple of posts each month devoted to the bicentennial. By the end, the project had consumed my blog activity and resulted in 12 to 13 posts per month. We are going to end just shy of 115,000 words. In this, I suppose, it’s a metaphor for Indiana which started as a small affair, huddled in a crescent from the Whitewater, across the Ohio, and back up the lower Wabash but has grown to a population of about 6.6 million people. Additionally, when I wrote about the national background, it was originally conceived as a few paragraphs to give some flavor of what was going on in the rest of the country. It progressively came to dominate more and more of the entries. I think this is reflective of how transportation and communication came to tie Indiana (as it did with the rest of the states) to the country as a whole. For the first half of our history, the barriers to communication and travel contributed to our state having a unique identity. As those barriers eroded, so too, has the uniqueness of our identity has eroded.

In the beginning, there was William Henry Harrison, Jonathan Jennings, Native Americans, and the slavery question. Native Americans, slavery, and Harrison were pushed out. Jennings spent some time on top but ended his days in an unmarked grave. Nevertheless, the state was on its way. The first order of business was to claw its way out of the wilderness. Hoosiers pushed out the natives and focused on internal improvements. The Indiana Mammoth Internal Improvement Act was a seminal event in our history. It laid the skeleton for our transportation system and plunged us into bankruptcy.

With the Constitution of 1816, our educational system was more aspirational than real. But, before long, educational reformers like Caleb Mills prompted changes that led to the Constitution of 1851 and our public school law. Of course, the Constitution of 1851 had its dark side as well — notably the infamous Article 13 and the exclusion of “negroes and mulattoes” from the state. During this period, the dyspeptic Jesse Bright rose to power, dominating the Democrats and the state political structure. As Indiana was drawn into the sectional conflict over slavery, Indiana’s Democratic Party fractured. Republicans rose out of the ashes of the Whigs, Democrats became the Party of the South, and Bright was eventually tossed out of the U.S. Senate for introducing Confederate President Jefferson Davis to an arms dealer.

The question of slavery dominated the country’s politics for a decade, and it seemed like everything was on hold until the Civil War finally burst the bubble. In Indiana, as elsewhere in the North, the federal Fugitive Slave Act (enthusiastically embraced by “states rights Southerners”) caused consternation and some dramatic incidents as slavers attempted to abduct black people in the north so Southerners could steal their labor.

In the dramatic election of 1860, Henry Bright led the Republican ticket in Indiana as the gubernatorial candidate, then immediately turned the governor’s office over to his lieutenant in exchange for the U.S. Senate seat. As governor, Oliver Morton faced abolitionist Quakers like George Julian on his left and, more numerously, Copperhead southern sympathizers on his right. Through force of will and, occasionally questionable methods, Morton kept Indiana fighting for the Union.

After the Civil War, Indiana hit its stride. Over a period of 50 years or so, its politicians would become politically relevant. Its authors would become world renowned. Indiana would supply four Vice-Presidents and one President. Schuyler Colfax served with President Grant from 1869 through 1873, Thomas Hendricks would serve with President Cleveland in 1885, Charles Fairbanks with Theodore Roosevelt from 1905 to 1909, and Thomas Marshall with Woodrow Wilson from 1913 to 1921. And, of course, Benjamin Harrison was the President from 1889 to 1893. Indiana was a swing state during those years with Republicans and Democrats fairly evenly matched. Having a Hoosier candidate on the ticket helped the odds. William English and John Kern were on the losing ticket in 1880 and 1908, respectively. Thomas Marshall, always good with a quote, quipped that Indiana was the “mother of vice presidents,” because it is “home of more second-class men than any other state.”

The development of industry in Indiana was powered by a gas boom from the 1880s through the early 20th century. Rapid growth and industrialization took place in Indiana’s gas belt in eastern Indiana. Cities like Muncie, Kokomo, Anderson, and Marion competed to attract new industries with offers of free natural gas, land, railway sidings, and tax credits.

Lured by the generous incentives, 162 factories were built, creating over 10,000 jobs by 1890. Among these new industries were tinplate mills in Anderson, Gas City, and Elwood as well as 21 new glass factories. “Ball Brothers Glass Manufacturing” relocated to Muncie from Buffalo, N.Y.

About the same time, the state experienced the Golden Age of Indiana literature. Probably the most commercially successful was Lew Wallace’s Ben Hur: A Tale of the Christ, published in 1880. It has been called “the most influential Christian book of the 19th century” and outsold “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” It was an action adventure of sorts that was popular even if it received mixed reviews from critics. The works of Edward Eggleston and James Whitcomb Riley depicted nostalgic views of early Indiana. Eggleston at least, was motivated by a desire to be regarded as an equal of the New Englanders. Celebrating what Indiana had to offer, he wrote:

It used to be a matter of no little jealousy with us, I remember, that the manners, customs, thoughts, and feelings of New England country people filled so large a place in books, while our life, not less interesting, not less romantic, and certainly not less filled with humorous and grotesque material, had no place in literature. It was as though we were shut out of good society.

Booth Tarkington was somewhat later, mostly the first two decades of the twentieth century, but he wrote a number of well-received novels, including The Gentleman from Indiana, The Magnificent Ambersons, and Alice Adams. His novels detailed the changes experienced by middle and upper-class Hoosiers in the face of dramatic changes in society, hopeful but fearful the urban and industrial would threaten traditional Hoosier values of stability and individualism.

By the time of its centennial in 1916, Indiana was understandably proud of its accomplishments. In many ways, the ambitions of those first Hoosiers had been realized. Indiana had carved its way out of the wilderness and risen to prominence as an important part of what was becoming the most powerful nation on the planet. The centennial observations were extensive. Among other things, Governor Ralston founded the state park system to “stand forever as a token of the past,” and “bring health, wealth and happiness” to future generations.

But, the dislocation and transition that Tarkington wrote about left its mark on Indiana after the upheavals of the Progressive Era and World War I. Post-war Indiana saw the rapid rise of the Klan. The Industrial Revolution has been disruptive, and the switch to a more urban and less rural way of life was disconcerting. After World War I, the nation was looking for, as President Harding put it, a return to “normalcy.” D.C. Stephenson was a huckster who was particularly successful in selling the Klan’s essentially negative views of Christianity and American and Hoosier exceptionalism. This message was pretty easily used in an “us” versus “them” kind of way. And the Klan always likes to punch down against less privileged members of society. In 1920s Indiana, the group tended to promote a negative vision of Patriotism and Protestantism, “defending” them against Roman Catholics, the foreign born, Jews, blacks, and the old White Cap enemies: the immoral such as adulterers, gamblers, and drinkers. The Catholics, in particular, seemed to cause anxiety in the sorts of folks who joined the Klan in 1920s Indiana. The Klan’s vision had resonance. About 1/3 of white, male Hoosiers joined up. They successfully put Ed Jackson in the Governor’s office. But D.C. Stephenson whose rise from “a nobody from nowhere” to “the law in Indiana” was rapid had an equally rapid fall from grace. The media coverage of his trial for the murder of of Madge Oberholtzer shocked the state. And, when a pardon was not forthcoming from Governor Jackson, Stephenson decided that he was not going down alone and mostly took the rest of the Klan down with him by talking to the Indianapolis Times.

It was not long after the peak of the Klan that the Great Depression gave Hoosiers and everyone else real problems. The dire economic situation prompted the electorate to sweep Republicans out of office and elect Democrats in overwhelming numbers. For Indiana, this meant that Paul McNutt had almost unprecedented political power for a short period of time. He used it to reshape Indiana government. When he took office in 1933, McNutt hit the ground running. Historian James Madison says, “no governor since Oliver P. Morton held such power or so forcefully directed state government and his party.” McNutt believed that government could be a great instrument of human progress. First on the agenda was relief for the unemployed. The local organizations and government were not up to the task. McNutt extended and centralized the existing relief efforts and worked in conjunction with FDR’s federal government to provide more. This led to the Indiana Department of Public Welfare and the creation of a state old age pension. Another initiative of the McNutt administration was the Office of the Consumer Advocate — initially led by future Supreme Court Justice Sherman Minton. Home rule and state’s rights were infringed upon in favor of a powerful state government working hand-in-hand with the federal government.

McNutt also created the Indiana State Police. He was successful in implementing tax reform where prior governors had failed. McNutt advocated and the legislature passed a state gross sales tax — in effect a combination sales and income tax. He overhauled the state bureaucracy, making it more rational but also using the changes to enhance his patronage power. State employees were “encouraged” to show their support by joining the Hoosier Democratic Club — commonly known as the “Two Percent Club,” because that percent of their pay was assessed as the price of membership. Theoretically membership was voluntary, but it was generally assumed that a state job was not secure if one did not belong. Republicans vehemently denounced the Two Percent Club but somehow changed their mind about its merits when they returned to power in the 1940s.

Indiana, like the rest of the country, weathered the Depression and then was consumed by World War II. The state became a center of production with activity that transformed the state. Approximately 363,000 Hoosiers served in the war and 10,000 died in service. Indiana produced $3.2 billion worth of war supplies and constructed factories valued at about a billion dollars. Between 1940 and 1950, Indiana’s population increased by 500,000. Following the war, Indiana would take imperfect and often contentious steps toward desegregation. We saw a microcosm of this in the efforts in Marion County to desegregate schools and the history of Shortridge High School. Also following the wars, the nation really improved its highways. Improvements in transportation and highways intertwined us more closely with the rest of the nation and, for good or bad, I feel like this cost us some of our distinctive character. Milan had its miracle in 1954, but since then we’ve traded our one-class basketball tournament and joined the rest of the country in observing Daylight Saving Time.

In the 1960s and 1970s, the Civil Rights movement, Vietnam, and Watergate made for stormy politics. The state implemented some fairly substantial constitutional changes in the early 1970s. This led to, among other things, a return to two term governors in 1972 after a long period of governors being limited to one term since the Constitution of 1851 was adopted. Taxes had been a particularly troublesome issue in the 60s. Governor Bowen, in the 70s implemented a shift away from property taxes toward sales taxes to address the problem. Governor Daniels would take a similar approach in the early 21st century when similar issues arose.

Since the 1970s, our political leadership has been fairly stable. After a major corruption scandal in the Indiana Senate in the late 70s, Bob Garton took control of the chamber and led it for a quarter century. Governors Bowen, Orr, Bayh, O’Bannon, and Daniels each won two terms. Mike Pence is the first elected governor, eligible for re-election, not to enjoy a second term since Samuel Bigger in 1843. But, he’s going to follow in the footsteps of Dan Quayle and be the Vice-President, so I suppose he won’t complain.

And now we’re at the bicentennial. Through a good chunk of this history, I’m proud to say there were Massons involved. My great, great grandfather, James P. Masson moved to Indianapolis sometime around 1850 or 1860. My great grandfather, M. Ross Masson was born shortly thereafter. His son (my grandfather) James E. Masson was born in 1905. My father, also named James, was born in 1939. They were all from Indianapolis. I was born in Richmond in 1971. And my kids, the 6th generation, were born in Lafayette.

It is my hope that, in our third century, Hoosiers can redirect their attention locally and regain the energy and ambition that drove the first generations to carve a great state out of the wilderness. To do so, I think we have to reconnect with our neighbors, devote our attention to local government and community events, and make our cities and towns places our children are eager and proud to call home. Greatness is not beyond reach. Golden Age Athens did work that still shapes the world today despite having a population of only about 300,000. England, a relatively small backwater island nation at the beginning of the 17th century went on to rule a large part of the world by the end of the 18th century, coming to regard the Romans as little men with small dreams.

We need to educate our children, improve our infrastructure, cultivate the science, literature, arts, and productive economic activity. We should not be passive observers, complaining about the present or dwelling on nostalgia for the past. We need to actively create our future. If we do so, perhaps our tricentennial will mark a new high water mark for the Hoosier State.

I had a post from 12 years ago where I commented: