LiberalDesert

John P. Frank

I took a break from politics this week to write a tribune (in The Tribune!) to John P. Frank, the senior partner at Lewis and Roca here in Phoenix. John was a mentor and friend to my wife Beth and my partners Andy and Karen, and a good friend to good causes in Arizona. I hoped to capture some of JPF's accomplishments, but also some of his humor. I've reinserted a couple of phrases that got deleted due to space limitations.

Lewis and Roca hosted a memorial tribute to John on Saturday at the Phoenix Art Museum, which far exceeded what I could write, but this column is for those of you who couldn't attend, or who didn't know JPF.

JOHN FRANK'S LIFE IN THE LAW AN INSPIRATION
East Valley Tribune, September 15, 2002

At age 84, the late John P. Frank still had more projects and plans ongoing than most people manage in a lifetime.

Frank, known to his friends as JPF, was a renowned collection of idiosyncrasies, including his omnipresent bow ties, his inability to drive a car safely, and his near-total ability simply to ignore things that did not interest him. But in a remarkable career, he deployed remarkable intellectual horsepower, limitless chutzpah, tireless persistence, and virtuoso ability to express complex and sophisticated legal issues in straightforward and compelling prose to change the law -- and the country.

JPF left many different legacies. While a law professor, he played a key role in the Supreme Court’s desegregation cases, writing a significant “friend of the court” brief in Sweatt v. Painter, the 1950 case that forced integration of the University of Texas Law School. He also advised the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund, Inc., on constitutional and legislative history in Brown v. Board of Education.

As a parent, he and his wife of 58 years, Lorraine W. Frank -- a remarkable contributor to Arizona in her own right -- raised five children, who received their parents’ own Sunday School curriculum when they found the existing alternatives intellectually insufficient.

As a lawyer, he represented Ernesto Miranda, and in 1966, the Supreme Court required police to inform suspects of their constitutional right to remain silent and to be represented by a lawyer -- the famous “Miranda rights” that any connoisseur of TV crime dramas can recite from memory.

JPF enjoyed the practice of law, which he found endlessly fascinating as well as a powerful, necessary tool for achieving social justice and making this country even greater and more free. He earned a nice living, and clients nationally sought his advice. Some even paid handsomely for it. But unlike many athletes who claim they’d play for free, he actually did, taking on vast numbers of unpaid clients for the intellectual challenge, the joy of the fight, and the moral virtue of the cause.

As an author, he wrote 11 books, including Lincoln as a Lawyer, which the reviewer for The New York Times called “a classic,” and which remains the leading work on Abraham Lincoln’s legal practice.

But JPF did his greatest work with and through others. He asked his partner John J. Flynn to argue the Miranda case, because JPF previously had argued before the Supreme Court but Flynn had not. As JPF predicted, the case made Flynn’s national reputation.

As hiring partner for Lewis and Roca, he helped Mary M. Schroeder, now Chief Judge of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit, become the first woman associate, and then the first woman partner, in a major Phoenix firm.

He taught, advised, and worked alongside Attorney General Janet Napolitano, and prided himself on being her first, and most fervent, supporter in her campaign for governor. He was extraordinarily generous with his time, insight, and wisdom with countless others, perhaps less famous but no less grateful.

While teaching at Yale Law School, he arranged for a black student with little money to see JPF’s friend Thurgood Marshall argue the Sweatt case - lining up the admission ticket and even paying train fare to Washington. The student, A. Leon Higginbotham Jr., described the experience as a turning point, which led to his own remarkable legal career, including serving as Chief Judge of the Third Circuit Court of Appeals.

In truth, JPF’s greatest legacy, and the one in which he took greatest pride, isn’t found in legal victories, court opinions, or between book covers. It is still being written in the achievements of those to whom he served as a tireless, brilliant, and creative mentor, colleague, and cheerleader.

Post-Primary Comments


Here's what I should have said on Horizon on Tuesday night:


1. I thought Grant Woods made the point well, but I also should have agreed that Jim Pederson truly has done a great job as state Democratic party chair, not an easy task. From personal experience, being state party chair is like taking small children to a fancy restaurant; the really tough part is not ruining everybody else's good time, and if you have fun, too, you're a miracle worker.


2. The GOP spin for the general election is that Janet Napolitano hasn't defined her campaign, or been specific on the issues. Actually, she's actually put lots of specific proposals on the table. Perhaps Grant's been too busy co-chairing Salmon's campaign to notice. Also, her specifics make a lot more sense than Salmon, who is saying he will (a) cut taxes and (b) spend more on education. At least Janet's math works.


3. I'm totally fed up with Dick Mahoney. Keep in mind a couple of things: (1) You never hear what Dick Mahoney's ideas are, only that he has ideas. His campaign is about the idea of having ideas, not any actual ideas. (2) The only people taking Dick seriously and praising him are serious Salmon supporters, like Grant, Chuck Coughlin, and Bob Robb. Nobody who isn't voting for Salmon thinks well of Mahoney. Ask the next person you hear praise Mahoney if they're actually voting for him, and dollars to donuts, the answer is "no." (3) In line with point #2, also notice how Mahoney never attacks Salmon, only Napolitano. He' s just a stalking horse for the Republican. Independent, my eye.


4. When given a choice, Democrats voted for the more moderate candidate; when given a choice, Republicans voted for the more conservative candidate. You had to get down to state legislative races before a GOP moderate defeated a right-winger. Salmon won by so much for the same reason that Horne beat Molera and Thomas won for AG and Trent Franks (Trent Franks!) won the congressional race--there really aren't any Republican moderates anymore. That's why Grant was on TV Tuesday instead of on the ballot.


5. In new CD-7, a very impressive win by Raul Grijalva. He dropped below 50% but still took 40% of the vote in a crowded and capable field, which included multiple Hispanics and at least three candidates who garnered significant funding and newspaper endorsements. A real shoe-leather campaign, apparently; less TV, more get-out-the-vote. It's perhaps part of a national trend, with campaigns suspecting declining effectiveness of TV ads and greater emphasis on traditional, grass-roots campaigning, as tentatively noted by Adam Nagourney in The New York Times. On a more catty note, Mark Fleisher's poor showing in that district was reassuring, too; nobody could tell in advance how big the "doofus vote" would be in a new district.


6. Here's my cynical explanation for Alfredo Gutierrez and Art Hamilton refusing to endorse Janet for governor. It looks like Alfredo's campaign really was never about issues but was simply about ego. But I suspect what's really going on is that both Alfredo and Art now are lobbyists--and their ability to garner clients and rake in the bucks should Janet Napolitano be governor will be limited. They both will make more money is Salmon wins, and they can be the GOP establishment's favorite Democrats. I guess to them, the governor's race is all about their wallets.

The Problem with Politics Isn't the Politicians--It's the Voters

My column ran on Saturday, instead of Sunday; apparently, the "blackout" period for the primary election Tuesday started on Sunday, so editor Bob Schuster put me in a day earlier because of my rather backhanded endorsement of Jay Blanchard. I got two emails in response, one from a friend who supports Rod Rich (on substance! Geez, can't a guy urge people to vote for really superficial reasons like campaign slogans?) and another 1,300 word response from somebody who is really, really upset about politics but I can't tell, despite the length of the email, whether he/she is an unrepenitant Naderite, a right-wing true believer, or a unreconstructed libertarian.

Problem is, you can get all three types to agree that the status quo stinks, or that people in office are skunks. But it's much more difficult to get them to agree with your views and beliefs, and then to get them to decide to give you the power to put those ideas into place. And in the case of my emailer, thank goodness.

The Arizona primary election is Tuesday. I'll be appearing on Horizon on Phoenix channel 8, KAET-TV, our local PBS station, along with Grant Woods to comment on the results at 9:30 - 10:30 pm. I will NOT be appearing the next evening, which the Horizon website lists as a "A warp up and ananlysis of primary election results". Too bad--I could have brought the liberal Star Trek viewpoint to that evening's show, but I'm not very good on ananlysis.


VOTERS WORSE THAN POLITICIANS
Low turnouts for most elections are a societal disgrace
East Valley Tribune, September 7, 2002

I automatically vote against anybody running for office who says “I’m not a politician.” It made the Democratic primary for Superintendent of Public Instruction easy. Never mind Jay Blanchard’s platform, or his vacillating legislative style (although anybody who beat Jeff Groscost in that district should deserve a “Get Out of Primary Free” card good for the next election of his choice). As soon as Rod Rich put “Not A Politician” on his signs, I’m voting for the other guy.

The state’s chief educator should know semantics. (Isn’t it part of AIMS?) The dictionary defines “politician” as “a person experienced in the art or science of government; one actively engaged in conducting the business of a government.” If you seek or hold public office, you’re a politician.

How does a “not a politician” campaign for votes? If a “not a politician” wins, does he have to refuse to take office? So if you’re voting in the Democratic primary Tuesday, vote for Dr. Jay Blanchard -- by definition. Forget ideology; vote semiotics!

The only thing worse than politicians refusing to admit involvement in politics, and the reason for it, is because voters always say they hate politicians.

Every American loves the idea of democracy, but always has some reason not to like its practice. It’s the “Colin Powell effect”: To most voters, the perfect candidate, the one they most want to vote for, isn’t running. As soon as a person actually decides to seek office, then he or she becomes just another lousy politician.

You’ve heard (and probably made) the usual sneering remarks. The top two are “they never keep their promises” and “they’re all crooks.” But the real problem with politics, and the people to whom those slurs actually apply, isn’t the politicians -- it’s the voters.

You’ll never hear it from candidates; they have to mouth all the false pieties that you demand to hear. But the recent ethical record for politicians is far better than that of CEOs and CFOs. And when politicians do go bad, they somehow manage to violate our trust without wrecking our 401(k)s.

If you really want to know who breaks their promises in the political equation, it’s the voters. We really don’t ask very much of citizens. You’re supposed to register to vote, but vast numbers don’t bother, even though they now can do it online from home or office, and those without a computer just need a form and a stamp. Over the past few years, while Arizona’s population boomed, the number of registered voters actually dropped.

Worse, even though less than two-thirds of those eligible bother to register, most of you who are registered simply don’t vote. We’ve made voting incredibly easy; you can vote by mail for every election, request a ballot via mail or the Internet, or just go to a neighborhood location twice a year, but sometimes only once, and say “howdy!” to the retirees working the polls. But the vast majority of you aren’t keeping your promises as citizens.

In Tuesday’s primary election, which, with rare exceptions, will determine the ultimate winners, maybe some 20 percent of the registered voters will vote. Most experts predict 10 to 15 percent turnout. That means that when combined with the unregistered, some 85 to 90 percent of citizens aren’t doing their job.

The percentage of bad apples among politicians is way less than 85 or 90 percent. But that’s the number of citizens who “don’t keep their promises.”

What’s worse, in Arizona, convicted felons can’t vote, which means all you non-voters (not the politicians) are the ones behaving like crooks.

The numbers don’t lie. If politicians as a group behaved half as poorly as voters as a group, then we’d really have problems.

Is Mickey Kaus My College Classmate? If So, Do I Need To Disclose That?

Mickey Kaus, in going after Paul Krugman yet one more time, cites a paper by Gregg Easterbrook to prove that the Bush Administration’s environmental record isn’t as bad as portrayed in the media. Maybe so, but Easterbrook's paper ignores a Bush administration rollback of a Clinton administration environmental initiative — one that just may counteract any good in any overall emissions reduction proposed as part of Blue Skies.

In his review of Eric Klinenberg’s Heat Wave: A Social Autopsy of Disaster in Chicago in the August 12, 2002, edition of The New Yorker (not available online), Malcolm Gladwell notes that the investigation of the 1995 Chicago heat wave by the Centers for Disease Control concluded that air conditioners might have prevented more than half of the deaths. But many low-income people couldn’t afford to run their air conditioners, and those that could have also suffered power failures that week.

As Gladwell notes, all air conditioners are basically the same. A small motor and small heat exchanger are cheaper to buy, but more expensive to run. A better motor and larger heat exchanger are more expensive to buy, but the energy savings dwarfs the higher purchase price.

Rational consumers would buy the more expensive units, knowing that they would recoup the extra cost in their electric bills. But the market didn’t quite work, because the people who bought air conditioners — builders and landlords — weren’t the people paying the utility bills to run them. So Congress adopted a minimum efficiency standard for air conditioners, which had to score at least a 10 on the seasonal energy-efficiency ratio (SEER) scale.

In its last days, the Clinton administration raised the SEER standard to 13. This spring, however, the Bush administration cut the increase by a third, to SEER 12. I suppose Kaus would call this a case where the Bush administration is getting a raw deal, because SEER 12 is still better than the old SEER 10 standard, but it’s still a rollback from the Clinton SEER 13 standard, and one with serious consequences.

Gladwell notes that SEER 13 isn’t technologically more difficult than SEER 12, simply slightly more expensive to make and more-than-slightly cheaper to operate. The battle wasn’t a typical business-versus-the environment dispute either, because while the largest air conditioner manufacturer, Carrier, favored SEER 12, the second-largest, Goodman (maker of Amana), favored SEER 13. Gladwell believes that the Bush administration felt politically safe to roll back the Clinton standard because most of the time, the difference between the two standards is “negligible” — except, because of the difference between average and peak electrical demand, during heat waves.

The Bush administration decision to cut the SEER upgrade, Gladwell calculates, means that by 2020, national peak electrical demand will be 14,000 megawatts higher than it would have been under the SEER 13 standard. The extra peak demand will require constructing about fifty new power plants, increasing the cost of electricity for everybody and straining local distribution systems when a heat wave hits.

In Chicago during the summer of 1995, extraordinary peak demand for power put an overwhelming strain on the local utility. Over 1,300 equipment failures left hundreds of thousands of people without electricity during the worst of the heat wave. If more than half of those who died could have lived only if they had had air conditioning, then those were not just interruptions in service, but killer outages — and outages that didn’t have to happen, as Gladwell writes:

But what is really staggering is how easy it would have been to avoid these power outages. Commonwealth Edison, the city’s utility, had forecast a year earlier that electricity use in the summer of 1995 would peak at 18,600 megawatts. The actual high, on the Friday of the heat wave, was 19,201. The difference, in other words, between the demand that the utility was prepared to handle and the demand that brought the city to its knees was six hundred and one megawatts, or 3.2 per cent of the total – which is just about what a place like Chicago might save by having a city full of SEER 13 air-conditioners instead of SEER 12 air-conditioners.

The Bush administration’s rollback to SEER 12 means that electricity generally will cost more, because of the higher costs in building, maintaining, and operating plants only needed to meet these infrequent higher peak demands for power. The rollback also means that local distribution systems, when faced with heat like Chicago in 1995, will operate that much more at or above capacity, and face a greater risk of crashing. Both factors mean that vulnerable people in places like Chicago — the elderly and the infirm — will die from heat waves unnecessarily. But the extra fifty power plants needed to meet the higher peak demand also will discharge more pollutants into the air, perhaps even more than the Blue Skies initiative allegedly will remove.

If that’s the counterexample of the Bush administration’s commitment to the environment, maybe somebody owes Paul Krugman an apology. Then again (and here’s my rhetorical overkill), I’m sure it’s a lot more fun to participate in some self-referential debate about bias in The New York Times than to worry about elderly people living alone in Chicago who didn't have to die during a future heat wave.

What Makes a "Natural Disaster"?

I got bumped from Sunday to Tuesday but the column didn't have a hook for Labor Day weekend--other than it was really, really hot here in Phoenix. But the problem with killer heat waves isn't found in cities that are hot and dry, like Phoenix, or steadily hot, again like Phoenix, but those cities that have variable weather and large numbers of vulnerable populations of the elderly and the infirm--like Chicago.

You can read a 2002 article in Slate by Klinenberg here, and read some additional quotes from Klinenberg (who pointed out the correlations between ethnicity and fatality rates--with jobs and younger residents leaving, black and Anglo elderly were left alone, while growing Hispanic population meant that family connections were growing--in a 1999 Slate article here. Note the potential link between Robert Putnam's "social capital" theory and surviving a heat wave.

LACK OF SOCIAL CONNECTIONS CAN BE DEADLY
East Valley Tribune, September 3, 2002

Which killed more people: Hurricane Andrew, which devastated south Florida? TWA Flight 800, when it plunged into the ocean? The 1994 Northridge, California earthquake? The Oklahoma City bombing? Or the 1995 Chicago heat wave?

The answer? As Malcolm Gladwell noted in The New Yorker, more people -- 739 -- died from heat in Chicago during July 14-20, 1995, than in the others combined. But which of those five disasters received the least attention? Same answer: the Chicago heat wave.

With publication of Eric Klinenberg’s Heat Wave: A Social Autopsy of Disaster in Chicago, maybe that will change. Klinenberg, a sociologist at New York University, finds responses to an epic disaster utterly inadequate. Chicago officials considered the predictable heat wave an extreme weather event, one that government couldn’t change.

Newspaper columnists treated the heat as a novelty, to be accepted and endured. People considered those deaths unavoidable, believing that many elderly simply succumbed due to existing frailty or their unwillingness to seek help.

Officials and citizens just assumed that most victims were close to death anyway, and the heat just accelerated the process. But Klinenberg noted that if true, then fatalities in the weeks following should have been lower -- and they weren’t.

Hundreds of people died in Chicago that week because of decisions, both large and small, all shaped by one idea: that the heat was a “natural disaster” beyond government’s power. But Klinenberg proves that many deaths weren’t inevitable, but instead preventable -- if only we realized how much of this natural disaster was really our doing.

Klinenberg studied two adjacent low-income Chicago neighborhoods, Little Village and North Lawndale. Both had large numbers of poor and elderly residents, similar income, and (of course) the same weather, but 10 times as many people per capita died in North Lawndale.

Little Village is densely populated, with a growing Hispanic population, relatively low crime, and bustling street activity. Relatives and friends could check on their elderly neighbors, who felt safe enough to leave their hot homes for relief.

North Lawndale is sparsely populated, high crime, and drug infested. The exodus of blue-collar jobs from the city meant many elderly residents lived alone, far from family, and feared going out.

It wasn’t the heat alone that killed; it turned deadly only when combined with a dangerous, isolated neighborhood. Most who died, died alone. When we let neighborhoods become drug-infested and depopulated, when the elderly live far from relatives and trusted friends, hot weather can kill.

The “natural disaster” viewpoint made city government respond more slowly and inadequately, too. Chicago ran out of ambulances, yet could have nearly tripled the number available by calling for help from the suburbs. But streamlining and outsourcing of social services distanced officials from the neighborhoods, and when the city realized the scope of the disaster, it was too late.

Many “natural disasters” result because of human decisions: Building housing in flood plains and fire zones, failing to test and reinforce old dams, and letting civic and social institutions on which the elderly depend decay. But calling something a “natural disaster” means we don’t search for causes, even if the natural event only became a disaster due to our decisions.

As Gladwell and Klinenberg note, we judge most institutions on how they perform under “normal” conditions, and excuse performance under peak demand and extreme stress. But that’s not how we judge electric utilities, which we expect to perform on the year’s hottest day -- which deregulation boosters ignore at our peril.

We can create systems that handle great and rare stress, like the Chicago heat wave. But it takes both will and wallet, and something even more rare -- recognizing that what makes a natural event a disaster may be human acts and omissions.

Clean Elections vs. Vouchers--The Latest Installment

I got a response to the "if school vouchers are OK, then why isn't Clean Elections" columns from Clint Bolick of the Institute for Justice, who is leading the lawsuit against public funding of elections based on the distinction between general versus non-general taxes. Well, targeted taxes, on tourists, is what's building the new NFL stadium. Excuse me, "multipurpose facility" -- which will be available for rent to religious revivals and political conventions, thereby creating First Amendment issues under Bolick's "involuntary association" theory.

It's not true that if you say "new Cardinals stadium" I just hit the F7 key on my computer and a 625-word column spits out. But it's close. Even if the stadium is an old theme, the jokes are new this week. I'm not sure which one I like better, that the Bidwells have managed to create an NFL franchise that plays second fiddle to a hockey team, or the Charlie Brown-Lucy-football joke. We retort, you decide.

Interesting editing change by the editor: The sentence in the fourth graf from the end originally read "But now, having given short shrift to its libertarian principles for a shot at a skybox, the Tribune finds itself watching the stadium drift westward across the Valley like a 70,000 seat dirigible." Oooh--the skybox dig cut too close to the bone. Or maybe it's just that once the paper does get a box, they'll never let editorial page editor Bob Schuster sit in it.

TARGETED TAXES BAD -- UNLESS THEY BOOST STADIUM
East Valley Tribune, August 25, 2002

I thank Clint Bolick for his column Aug. 16, because he gave me a rare and joyous opportunity, to rail about both school vouchers and the new football stadium. Two rants for the price of one!

Let’s recap our argument. Bolick agrees that the law allows, for better or worse, using your tax dollars for speech with which you disagree. The Legislature, or voters by initiative, can pay for press secretaries and self-aggrandizing mailings for incumbents, or vouchers that support other people’s religions. You have no right as a taxpayer to complain that your taxes support speech, or religion, with which you disagree.

Thus, despite some sloppy language in Tribune editorials, there’s no problem with using “your money.” Instead, Clean Elections opponents argue that people who pay parking tickets or court fines are an identifiable “association,” like teachers forced to pay union dues or lawyers who must join the bar association to practice their professions. Pay a speeding ticket, and you belong to a club -- with greater rights than ordinary taxpayers.

That’s Bolick’s theory. I think it’s bogus, but the Arizona Supreme Court will decide this argument for us.

But the more interesting part of Bolick’s diatribe was his opprobrium against nongeneral taxes. He argues that voters were seduced into supporting Clean Elections because the drafters “designed a scheme that other people would have to pay for” instead of using general tax revenues. Boo! Bolick says this is a bad thing: “Any time government imposes a special tax on a discrete group of people, the courts get suspicious.” Hiss!

It sure sounds bad -- picking on only certain people to pay for some grandiose project that benefits a chosen few. It must make your bile rise, knowing that there are money-grubbing schemers who, for their own personal benefit, craft these underhanded, sneaky ways to tax folks who don’t know or who can’t complain. There ought to be a law, to prevent insiders from scooping up money from some disfavored group and using for their own pet schemes:

Just like the new Cardinals stadium, funded by tourism taxes.

Apparently, there are times when “designing a scheme that other people would have to pay for” is a wonderful way to fund new fields for youth sports, improvements to Cactus League ballparks, and some sort of “multipurpose facility” occasionally useful for the odd professional football or college bowl game. Sometimes we’re supposed to stand up and cheer when “government imposes a special tax on a discrete group of people.”

The fact that tourists, who couldn’t vote here, would pay for the stadium wasn’t a problem; it was a major reason to vote for the tax. Apparently, it just depends on where the money goes, or else this principle about general taxation only applies to stop more important stuff, and doesn’t affect stupid public works projects that might serve the greater economic glory of the East Valley.

At least The Tribune, a tireless stadium booster, had the grace to let somebody else make the “other people paying is bad” argument. But now, having given short shrift to its libertarian principles for a shot at a skybox, The Tribune finds itself watching the stadium drift westward across the Valley like a 70,000-seat dirigible.

Suddenly, the Cardinals are headed to Glendale, where these tourism taxes will help bail out the Coyotes arena project. Only the Bidwells could own an NFL franchise that plays second fiddle to a hockey team. And only the political might of what Jon Talton calls the “real estate industrial complex” could explain why this particular “other people’s money” rabbit will get pulled out of Glendale’s hat.

You gotta feel for Mesa Councilman Mike Whalen, and for The Tribune. They’re Charlie Brown. The Bidwells are the football.

Aren’t you the least bit curious about who is Lucy?

Blogrolling on Religion

Patrick Nielsen Hayden--who proves that while good authors are a dime a dozen, a great editor is a rare and wonderful thing--picked up and linked to last week's Tribune column about religion in politics here. A number of people have added comments, which I commend to you, on whether there is a moral difference between "vote for me, I'm one of us" and "don't vote for him, he's not one of us." If you want to follow the discussion, click on the "comments" link right below his headline ("I make distinctions; you're a bigot").

I put in my two cents worth into the thread:

It's an appealing argument, that there's a moral difference between "Vote for me, I'm one of you" and "Don't vote for him, he's not one of us." However, I don't think it works in practice. In a campaign, you only make the "Vote for me, I'm one of you" argument if the other candidate isn't. During my time in politics, I faced opponents who talked about religion, ostensibly generally, but clearly in ways that made both arguments. As a Jewish candidate, is it proper for my opponent to talk about how he has accepted Jesus as his savior--thereby making the comparison that I haven't? I think that tactic is really making both points, the positive and the negative simultaneously, so there's no distinction.

The other objection is that candidates use religion as a way to avoid talking about values and principles in a way that might actually help voters understand what the candidate might do in office. E. J. Dionne wrote about this during the 2000 campaign, comparing the answers given by President Bush ("well, if they don't know, it's going to be hard to explain") with Gary Bauer's explanation, in terms not freighted with sectarianism, about how his faith shapes his views on poverty, hunger, and the death penalty. (There's something you don't see everyday--me complimenting Gary Bauer.)

Did I Say Religion? I Meant My Religion, Not Your Religion.

This week is religion in politics--where when people say they want to make space for religion in the "public square," what they really mean is space only for their particular brand of religion, expressed only in their particular way.

RELIGION OK IN POLITICS -- BUT LIMITS ABOUND
East Valley Tribune, August 18, 2002

It was an interesting week for religion in politics, with people usually fighting for more instead demanding less.

The University of North Carolina drew flak by asking students to read portions of a translation of the Quran. Students then would write a 300-word essay, either about the excerpt or why they declined to read it. The Family Policy Network sued to stop this effort at bringing religion into education.

This summer gubernatorial candidate Matt Salmon appeared on Christian television to say he wanted to “reclaim government in the name of G-d.” In interviews, he attacks “liberal judges” he claims want to expel religion from civic life: “[T]here has been an effort underfoot for many years to try to take G-d off our money and out of our national motto,” Salmon said.

Shortly afterward, anonymous “Vote Mormon” posters appeared next to Salmon’s campaign signs. Salmon, and this newspaper, denounced the signs as “a cowardly, underhanded act of bigotry” aimed at anti-Mormon prejudice.

Both Salmon and FPN consider themselves “pro-religion,” but instead of expanding religion’s space in the “public square,” both fought to shrink it. FPN demanded the university drop any teaching of the Quran unless taught in a manner FPN deemed “balanced,” and that the school shouldn’t teach any particular religion unless it taught them all -- a sure-fire recipe for teaching none. Salmon supporters just tore out the signs.

Apparently, candidates may discuss their religious faith generally, or list church membership in campaign mailers, or “target” religious voters -- but any specific discussion of a candidate’s actual religion by anybody else is unconscionable bigotry. “Politicians of faith” urge people to vote for them because of religious beliefs, but it’s offensive for anybody to oppose them based on those same beliefs. Religion is relevant, even essential, to politics -- but only on the candidate’s own terms.

Nobody considers religion more relevant than that holier-than-thou Democrat, Sen. Joe Lieberman, who never met an issue that didn’t deserve faith-based rhetoric (except for letting corporations not expense stock options). Lieberman links many political positions to his beliefs as a deeply religious Jew. George W. Bush cited Jesus as the most important influence on his politics, but when asked to explain what he meant to people of different faiths, replied, “Well, if they don’t know, it’s going to be hard to explain.” Both believe very different things, and both can’t be “correct,” but each considers religious beliefs fundamental to his politics, and a valid way to seek voter support.

But it’s only for support; nobody can oppose a candidate based on his or her self-advertised religious beliefs. Religion is a ratchet, shamelessly available to help a candidate, but never to oppose -- just like politicians who use their families brazenly while campaigning, then demand “privacy” when that better suits their needs.

This faith-based campaigning creates a blandly homogenized political religion, where everybody but atheists shares unspecified fundamental beliefs. (You know what they are, and if you don’t, well, it’s hard to explain.) This civic religion considers having any religious beliefs as a good thing, whatever those beliefs are -- thereby making differences simply irrelevant, which really makes religion less important and fundamental. However, that tolerance has its limits, as in North Carolina, where the FPN doesn’t consider Islam acceptable for the public square. (And if they get to exclude Islam today, what other minorities get ruled “out of bounds” tomorrow?)

Ultimately, politics is an argument. You take a stand, your opponent opposes, and voters sort it out. But you can’t have that kind of argument about religion. You believe this, I believe that, and nobody can sort it out, not with logic and certainly not in this world.

For those who say we need more religion in politics -- you can’t argue about it, so what good is it?