The Washington Post profiles libertarian congressman Ron Paul (R-Tex.) -- in its Sunday Style section, which is sort of a throwaway placement.
It's one of those 1970s-style laundry list stories:
The amiable Texas congressman would do away with the CIA and the Federal Reserve. He'd reinstate the gold standard. He'd get rid of the Department of Education.
Rather than really try to present the argument for individual rights and limited constitutional government, drawing on public choice economics and the failures of government programs, the reporter just lists one out-of-the-mainstream position after another. Still, she does make it clear that he's philosophically principled and not your typical Bush-supporting JFK-lookalike 21st-century congressman.
Here's an interesting point about Ron Paul that I haven't seen anyone make: As far as I know, Ron Paul is the only member of Congress who has been elected three times as a non-incumbent. Two of those times he beat an incumbent.
He first won a special election in 1976, then lost that fall. Two years later he came back and defeated incumbent Bob Gammage. After three terms he ran for the Senate, losing the Republican nomination to Phil Gramm. The really bad news was that he was replaced by Tom DeLay. In 1988 Paul was the Libertarian Party nominee for president. Then in 1996, 20 years after his first election and 12 years after he had last won election to the House, he ran again in a differently configured district. He had to beat Democrat-turned-Republican incumbent Greg Laughlin in the primary -- against the opposition of the National Republican Congressional Committee, the National Federation of Independent Business, the National Rifle Association, former attorney general Ed Meese, Senators Gramm and Kay Bailey Hutchison, and Gov. George W. Bush.
Given that kind of firepower and the incumbent reelection rate of about 99 percent these days, Ron Paul has a remarkable political record. He must be doing something right back in Texas.
In early June, Markos Moulitsas roiled the political blogosphere with a provocative post prophesizing the rise of the libertarian Democrat. My Cato colleagues Gene Healy, Will Wilkinson, and Radley Balko offered replies on Cato@Liberty, and the DailyKos logged some 900 responses to the post. Clearly, Kos had struck a nerve.
After a month of ruminating and at the risk of being too late to the party, here are a few additional thoughts:
All good classical liberals would eagerly agree with Kos about the threat that “government and other individuals” pose to liberty. Good libertarians would be captivated by his paean to the Bill of Rights, including the Second Amendment (and — can we hope? — the Ninth and Tenth). Classical liberals would also join him in rebuking government’s impositions in “our bedrooms and churches” and its ongoing evolution into Big Brother. And good libertarians of all political stripes (not just Blue) would agree with him about the threat that corporations pose to individual liberty, including their pushing externalities onto others. After all, my job at Cato is to manage the institute’s 64-page quarterly criticism of rent-seeking weasels.
Up to this point, all good classical liberals, libertarians, free-market liberals, et al., would be cheering Moulitsas. If there were any hesitation, it would be over his determination to promote libertarian Democrats instead of any office-seeker who is libertarian. If a voter values individual liberty, wouldn’t that person support any candidate who shares that value, and not just candidates who have an “R” or “D” after their names? I assume Kos and all lovers of liberty — and, indeed, all politically thoughtful people — would not be so base as to view candidate party affiliation as either a necessary or sufficient condition for gaining their votes.
But, as Gene and Will both point out, further reading of Kos’s post suggests that his brand of libertarianism may be quite illiberal.
Over the 4th of July, I headed out West to a family reunion in a very remote part of the U.S.: Minidoka County, Idaho--an apocalyptically stark stretch of mile-high lava rock and sagebrush in the heart of the Snake River basin, unfolding like a moonscape from the base of the Albion mountain range at the Utah-Idaho border.
I'd grown up on my dad's stories about his Idaho childhood. One story that intrigued was his very early memory of working my grandfather's fields alongside Italian and German World War II POWs, who were held in a prisoner-of-war camp near Twin Falls, Idaho. POWs were used to remedy a shortage of farmhands in agricultural areas throughout the U.S.
Not long ago, I asked my dad if any World War II Japanese internment camps had operated in the Minidoka area. He wasn't aware of any. Imagine my surprise then when I learned of this memorial service, held today, for the Minidoka internment camp--one of the larger Japanese internment camps operated during World War II.
Its no surprise my dad--otherwise an encyclopedia of information about southern Idaho--was caught short on this question. Virtually nothing of substance remains to memorialize the camp today, although a more substantial memorial is planned.
Minidoka residents--fond of calling their region the "Magic Valley"--shouldn't get off so easily. Just as the government loaned Axis POWs to some local farmers, it loaned Japanese-Americans to others. Some 2,300 "Nisei" camp residents worked area sugar beet farms on "agricultural leave" from the Minidoka camp--hard, backbreaking work at a time when local farming was undertaken without modern tractors or modern irrigtation technology. To be sure, the camp residents weren't technically forced to work, as this bit of outrageously upbeat 1943 government propaganda notes--but the Japanese internees had little other choice of employment.
This shameful episode--part of the darker history of communities throughout the West and a telling example of the worst that can happen when courts abdicate oversight of the political branches during wartime--deserves substantial local recognition in Minidoka and other host communities. For more about the location of internment camps, see here and here.
In late 2004, when Congress passed the Video Voyeurism Prevention Act [.pdf], America breathed a sigh of relief knowing that taking naughty photos was now illegal "in the special maritime and territorial jurisdiction of the United States." That's just about nowhere as far as thwarting video voyeurism goes, but the symbolism was just too good for Congress to pass up.
Cameras are shrinking in size while improving in quality, and human nature remains unchanged, so video voyeurism is a growing problem. It’s a “technology” problem in the sense that the technology enables carrying a natural human interest to unnatural extremes. Let’s talk about solutions.
Both law and morals are weak tools. You can make it illegal and you can shame the people you catch, but it's not going to stop. After all, the behavior is carried on in secret already. Legal or illegal, and shameful as it is, video voyeurism is likely to increase.
That's why I was so happy to read an article this week about a technology to thwart furtive picture-taking. A researcher at Georgia Tech is developing a system that can find and neutralize digital cameras. You see, most digital cameras emit unique visible or invisible beams of light that can be sensed to reveal their whereabouts. Once the sensor identifies a digital camera, it can shine an infrared laser at the camera, overexposing it and rendering it inoperable.
Former congressman Randy "Duke" Cunningham had a bribe menu for lobbyists who wanted government contracts. Amazingly, it wasn't just an understanding between friends, or a general concept. He actually wrote it down on his congressional stationery. As Brian Ross reported for ABC News:
The card shows an escalating scale for bribes, starting at $140,000 and a luxury yacht for a $16 million Defense Department contract. Each additional $1 million in contract value required a $50,000 bribe.
The rate dropped to $25,000 per additional million once the contract went above $20 million.
I love the volume discount. And I especially love the fact that Cunningham didn't think his customers could handle the math involved in "it's $50,000 for each million." Instead, he wrote down each increment with "50" next to it. (See the card here.)
There’s no bigger sham in public schooling than “parental involvement,” a concept that educrats trot out whenever they want to show that they aren’t scared of parents or when they’re trying to curry parental favor. Otherwise, they avoid it like the plague.
Ordinarily, parental involvement translates into sheer window dressing; feel-good activities that let parents do fun things with their children, but that in no way interfere with a school’s daily operations.
An article in today’s Lexington Herald-Leader discusses just such fluff, profiling a Kentucky program in which teams of parents and teachers run art projects in local schools. Apparently, the initiative has hit its public relations mark:
"It’s a wonderful way to get parents and teachers working together,” one parent gushed. “I think any time parents and teachers are working together, it can only benefit children.”
Mike Munger, chair of Duke University's political science department and a friend of Cato, has a great essay on the waste of political "rent-seeking," the attempt to get taxpayer money channeled through government to your favored interest (whether hungry children, municipal governments, corporations, or private individuals).
Here's an excerpt:
In my classes, I ask students to imagine an experiment that I call a Tullock lottery, after one of the inventors of the concept of rent-seeking, Gordon Tullock.Read the rest of this post »
The lottery works as follows: I offer to auction off $100 to the student who bids the most. The catch is that each bidder must put the bid money in an envelope, and I keep all of the bid money no matter who wins.
So if you put $30 in an envelope and somebody else bids $31, you lose both the prize and the bid. When I run that game with students I can sometimes make $50 or more, even after paying off the prize. In politics, the secret to making money is to announce you are going to give money away.