Secrets and Lies

The recent arrest of a former Senate Intelligence Committee staff member—a veteran of almost 30 years in government service—on charges of lying to FBI agents investigating leaks of classified information surprised some.  However, what really churned the waters was the concurrent seizure of the phone and email records of The New York Times reporter to whom he had been allegedly leaking—but with whom he was most definitely having sex.  They don’t call Washington “The Swamp” for nothing.

This incident and so many like it speak to the inherent tension between government secrecy and a free press in a democracy.  That which government would prefer remains hidden has always been catnip for reporters, but it appears more and more the case that a symbiotic and worrisome relationship has developed between those in government and those working in the press—each seemingly tethered to fewer and fewer institutional norms or traditions.  Given that government cannot operate effectively in a glass house, both the leakers and those reporters who are anxious to disseminate secrets are playing a dangerous game that could have catastrophic consequences.

We generally find government information falls into three broad categories.  

First, we have information that can and should be made readily available to all: the cost of contracts, specific legislative and regulatory actions, court rulings, or initiatives of the Executive branch are obvious examples of information that is critical to the smooth functioning of democratic processes.  There are also categories of information that need to be carefully evaluated before they are made public; troop movements in wartime and active criminal investigations are obvious examples.  We don’t want to either compromise military operations and put lives at risk or allow crooks to escape before they can be apprehended and put on trial.

There remains, however, a third category of information that causes the most practical and ideological problems in an open and democratic society: that which cannot be revealed under any circumstances without causing perhaps irreversible harm to our nation and its people.  

The very existence of this final category of information is offensive to those who believe in absolute government transparency and deeply distrust the idea of government secrecy.  It must be acknowledged that the United States government—like every government in history—has sometimes tried to drop a veil of secrecy over information that would reveal neglect, malfeasance, or plain stupidity.  The question then arises whether revealing this information serves any public good or just causes further damage by either unnecessarily eroding public trust or politicizing what are, in the final analysis, nothing more than instances of human weakness or misjudgment.

Likely the two most famous examples of closely-held secrets revealed during the course of my own lifetime are the publication of the so-called “Pentagon Papers”, which allowed the general public to read the unvarnished political and military deliberations concerning the conduct of the Vietnam War, and the revelations surrounding President Nixon’s role in encouraging spying upon—and sabotage of—his political opponents, which led to his impeachment and resignation.  

In both of these cases the news media decided that our country and our citizens were best served by revealing the secrets and lies of our government officials.  We saw a long-term drop in our faith in government as a result—which is either healthy or harmful, depending on your point of view—but the issues at hand were clearly pertinent to both public policy and the operations of democratic government, so we needed to know the truth.  However, the facts associated with each case had far-reaching and long-term consequences for our country, so the editorial decisions to publicize this information were made only after long and careful internal deliberations concerning the complex balance between press freedom and our national interests.

That was then—and this is now.

Over the past 30-40 years journalistic standards have joined floppy disks on the scrap heap of history.  Our internet-driven 24/7 news cycle has produced a crazed bazaar of half-truths and one-sided opinions presented as facts.  As articles regarding personalities and perceptions—and snarky reactions to both—have continued to crowd out simple reporting in the quest for clickbait, any sense of proportion and decency has more and more been discarded.  Hence, “news” has devolved into just one more facet of our wacky entertainment culture rather than an enterprise where careful fact-checking and an unbiased presentation—combined with a deeply entrenched sense of reportorial responsibility—are considered normal and laudable.

Imagine, for example, if our current journalistic practices had been in place in the past.  Would the Manhattan Project, which developed the first atomic bombs during World War II, have stayed off the front pages of The Washington Post for long?  Would news websites be breathlessly reporting every twist and turn of the Cuban Missile Crisis based on leaks and the wildest unsubstantiated speculation—thereby driving our world even closer to the brink of nuclear war?  On a less elevated level, would some mistress of President Kennedy be providing a slurp by slurp account of their liaisons to 60 Minutes or The Tonight Show—perhaps while simultaneously hawking her new web store with its own line of “Presidential” lingerie for sale?

We need a responsible and inquiring press in a democracy—and many news outlets are still doing important investigative reporting that provides necessary accountability for government and government officials.  However, the disdain much of the American public feels toward journalism and journalists—which President Trump channels and amplifies for his own political purposes—is a direct outcome of the damage done by reporters who have turned themselves into partisans and provocateurs in order to advance their own careers.

There is an old saying in Washington: “Those who know don’t talk, and those who talk don’t know.”  We can add a codicil to this saying that is both a reflection of today’s reality and a warning: “and the public doesn’t know why so much talk leaves them knowing nothing at all….”

Advertisements

How To Shrink Government—For Real

When I first started working in the advertising business in New York City many years ago, one of my senior colleagues told me the following joke—both to make me laugh and provide me with a little insight into reality….

 Starting his first day at a new job, a man ran into his predecessor cleaning out his desk, who gestured to the top right hand drawer.

 “I hear you’re taking over from me.  This is a pretty demanding position, so there’s a little tradition we keep up here.  I’ve put three sealed and numbered envelopes in this drawer.  When you hit your first crisis with our boss, open envelope number one.  When the second crisis strikes, open number two.  When you and our boss have your third falling out, open the third envelope.”  

 Smiling at the seeming absurdity of the three envelopes, the man said goodbye to his predecessor and started his new job.

 However, one terrible morning several months later, after his boss had chewed him out for not meeting his performance goals, the man went back to his desk and—his hands shaking—opened the first envelope and read the note: “Blame your predecessor.”  After lunch he went in and explained to his boss what a mess his department was in when he took over the position. It worked.  Mollified by the explanation, his boss sent him back to his desk without further comment.

 A couple of months later his boss was on the rampage again, demanding to know when improved results were forthcoming.  After anxiously reaching into his desk, the man pulled out the second envelope and read the advice: “Announce a reorganization.”  Racing into his boss’s office, the man explained that he was changing around the responsibilities of the people in his department in order to increase productivity.  A bit disbelieving but still satisfied by this plan, his boss sent the man on his way.

 Unfortunately, as yet more months passed, no improvements were apparent.  Frothing with rage, the boss told his underling to be in his office the next morning with a new strategy to finally turn around his department.  Remembering how the first two envelopes had saved him, the man raced back his desk and frantically tore open the third envelope.  

 Inside he found a note that read as follows: “Prepare three envelopes….”

 A good deal of private sector work tracks right along with the three envelopes.  Managers and supervisors have, from time immemorial, followed exactly this arc to keep those above them happy—at least for a while.  Government bureaucracies—and the bureaucrats and elected officials that run them—are likewise prone to either blame their predecessors or announce a reorganization when problems become too obvious to ignore.

 However, those who survive in government jobs become experts at one particular “skill” above all others: keeping their heads down and asking no questions.  Consequently, we employ millions of men and women who will—from the day they start work until the day they retire—plod placidly along while paying little heed to either the utility of their work or its societal outcomes.  The consequence is an ever growing chasm between the costs of government and the actual benefits that are provided to our nation.  

 If you’ve ever wondered why we spend our lives paying taxes for schools that don’t educate, roads filled with potholes, and various departments and agencies that seem to have no discernible or logical function, you are asking the right questions—but you are wrong in believing improvements are possible.  Absent the private sector accountability provided by the need to both produce measurable results and turn a profit, it will always be the predisposition of government to cost more and provide less over time.  Although there are many who believe—believe with all their hearts and souls in many cases—that those who want to reduce the size of government are heartless haters who are putting our lives and the future of our nation at risk, the catastrophic rise of both daily government expense and government indebtedness compels those with the least smidgen of sanity to question our current direction—and seek change.

 Obviously, we need government, and there are basic responsibilities that government is best suited to fulfill.  National defense, local law enforcement, health and safety regulations, and maintenance of the infrastructure and the regulatory framework necessary for interstate and international commerce are clearly the purview of government managed by elected officials.  Protection of our environment is also necessary to help ensure the health and welfare of our citizens.  A free, taxpayer-supported system of primary and secondary education—whether provided by public or charter schools—must certainly be in place to put each generation in a position for future success.

 However, the accountability necessary for well-managed government programs is impeded by the sheer immortality of government agencies and departments—that which is once funded never goes away.  Much like that famous fictional Count from Transylvania, government agencies and departments live forever, sucking the life blood of the citizenry and striking fear into the hearts of all who dare defy them.  Elected and appointed officials, although nominally in control, rarely have the staying power to do much to rein in their inexorable growth.

 Government is, at least in theory, the servant of the people, so the solution might be to let the people decide—directly.  

 Therefore, we should consider allowing the appropriations for every government agency and department—except for a very select few deemed absolutely vital to our nation—to “sunset” every ten years.  In order to continue operations, they would need to be voted back into existence by our citizens—not a handful of legislators who have been purchased through campaign contributions.  During the ten year cycle, appropriations and oversight would be left to elected officials and appointees, but thereafter a plebiscite of the citizenry—local, state, or national, depending on the department or agency or question—would decide whether to allow it to continue to function.  There would, of course, be a brief winding down period if programs were closed so that the enforcement responsibility for regulations promulgated could be smoothly transferred, but this would be manageable—and of limited duration and cost compared to the eternal life and expense prior.

 There will, quite naturally, be those who for a variety of reasons would vociferously oppose such an idea.  The status quo always has its fans—particularly when there is (as is always the case with government) jobs and money involved.  Nonetheless, unless we want to continue to spin on as we are until every last penny is gone from our pockets—and the pockets of our children and grandchildren—we must take affirmative and direct control over the mechanisms of our government.

 If not, we will soon be preparing our own “third envelope” for our nation and its future.  This is an outcome we dare not allow to occur.

Who Gets To Vote?

The history of American democracy is also a history of our sloppy, exclusionary, and infuriating system of voting. As much as we might want to paint our elections as some sacred system designed to produce that most perfect of all unions, the plain fact of the matter is that winning candidacies boil down to a very simple and cold-hearted equation: Make certain that my supporters vote and those of my opponent don’t. All the rest is political science theory.

Not surprisingly, the methods of winning elections by controlling who votes have run the gamut from the rascally to the outright despicable. Here in my own state of Illinois, the dead have a long and storied history of rising from the grave to cast their ballots. For much of our history women were denied the vote. Long after the passage of the 15th Amendment, African-Americans had to sometimes risk their lives to enter a polling place. Gerrymandered districts have long been used by both major political parties to neutralize the votes of some while amplifying the impact of the votes of others. The limitations of our continued reliance on balky voting machines and volunteer electoral judges perhaps reached an apogee—or nadir—in 2000, when we all had a chance to learn what a “hanging chad” was, and the U.S. Supreme Court abruptly—perhaps too abruptly—ended a Presidential recount in Florida and declared a winner.

Therefore, to blithely celebrate our “free and fair” electoral system requires a least a little willful blindness at times. We cannot discuss improvements if we deny our historic failures.

However, recent discussions about expanding the franchise by permitting felons, sixteen year olds, or even illegal immigrants to vote in some elections veer into territory that goes far beyond simply improving the systems we now have. We are now asked to decide whether felony convictions should be sufficient grounds for revoking a basic right of citizenship, when sufficient maturity to vote responsibly has been attained, or whether unlawful residency should provide voting rights that have historically been restricted to citizens. These are all huge questions that have profound implications for the future of our nation.

The question of whether states should continue to restrict the rights of convicted felons to vote hinges on a very basic question: Do we believe voting to be an irrevocable right or an earned privilege? At least to this point in time we have generally restricted the rights of felons to vote while in prison. The question today is whether voting rights should be automatically restored to felons upon release or there should be additional restrictions until other conditions set by individual state legislatures are satisfied by that ex-convict.

We might also reasonably ask whether the same restrictions should apply to both violent and non-violent offenders, but this often crashes into the question of whether we are giving preferential treatment to white-collar criminals. As regards the right to vote, should we distinguish between the accountant who facilitated a real estate fraud and the purse snatcher who knocked down a little old lady during the commission of the crime? Is the integrity of our voting system more at risk from someone running a marijuana grow house or someone who was stealing cars and stripping them for parts?

Having taught high school, I know my viewpoint regarding allowing sixteen year olds to vote has been affected by my professional experience. Some liberals are, of course, thrilled with this idea in the wake of student protests in favor of more—and more confiscatory—gun control laws because younger people generally skew hard left politically, and this tendency could affect the outcome of many elections. However, although the exuberant idealism of the young can be useful counterpoint to the weary cynicism of older voters beaten down by the eternal gulf between the promises and performances of politicians, bright-eyed ideology unleavened by messy life experience can be problematic.

Anyone who remembers their youthful belief in their own infallibility—which, of course, stood in stark contrast to the blind stupidity of the oblivious adult world—has at least at once grimaced at the utter cluelessness of their younger selves. The French have a lovely aphorism, quoted and re-quoted in various permutations, that ably captures this dichotomy: “If you are not a liberal at twenty, you have no heart; if you are not a conservative at forty, you have no head.” A world run by 16 year olds might by long on energy and short on practicality—or it might resemble The Lord of The Flies. Perhaps there is something to be said for the sagacity that comes with age. In addition, the 26th Amendment to the Constitution lowered the voting age from 21 to 18 years of age in only 1971, so it is likely worth another bit of a wait before we fiddle with the voting age yet again.

The issue of granting some voting rights to undocumented immigrants is a topic of intense discussion in states such as California, Illinois, and New York. Their laws designed to protect the many who reside in those states illegally readily morph into granting this population more and more public aid and benefits of all types—so voting rights seem to some the next natural step. This is also viewed as a way to battle the entrenched “racism” of those who support stricter enforcement by helping to boost the electoral fortunes of those candidates who are friendly to the notion of a world without borders.

However, one would be hard-pressed to find a developed nation where policies that reward lawbreakers are commonplace, and it is reasonable to ask whether open borders and a modern welfare state are a potentially ruinous combination. Although it is certainly true that we are a nation of immigrants, those immigrants almost always arrived under supervision and with documentation—and rules and limitations have been crafted throughout our history to maintain a manageable flow of people into our great nation.

Of course, although our legal immigration policies have historically been quite generous, there is no doubt they have often reflected the prejudices and preconceptions of the people who crafted them. This is sad, and at times it has resulted in injustices that have affected individuals and their families, but we cannot undo the past and now must muddle along from here. Additional domestic and international issues, which are far beyond our ability to predict, will affect our immigration legislation and procedures going forward in ways we cannot imagine, so all we can do is continue to be as welcoming as our economic conditions and security considerations allow. Beyond this, the question of granting some voting rights to those who have entered the U.S. illegally will be a priority for some immigration partisans—but I strongly doubt the vast majority of Americans will endorse this idea because it fails to account for basic common sense.

There was once a time in American history when our polling places were in taverns and saloons—and a vote could be had for the price of a couple of beers. Our election procedures have obviously improved a great deal since, but much improvement is still possible—particularly as regards expanded voting opportunities and convenience.

Moreover, we can continue to improve the security and accuracy of the ballot in a variety of ways, and the increased infiltration of dazzling and powerful technology into every facet of our daily lives may someday mean that we will be saying “Siri, it’s time for me to vote for President.” on a Tuesday in early November. That would certainly increase voter participation—and reduce the opportunities for the chicanery and silliness that have marred too many of our elections in the past. In addition, it would be way, way cool.

The Blame Game

Roughly a decade ago, I found myself trying to answer a surprising question from a classroom full of my foreign students: Why do ladders in the U.S. have warnings plastered all over them informing users it is possible to fall off? They were honestly befuddled. Don’t Americans, they asked in their innocence, know that already?

I tried to explain the in-and-outs of product liability laws in our nation, but most simply shook their heads. It all just seemed very silly to them.

I am sitting next to a big yellow warning label right now on my bus ride to work: “Caution—Please Hold On While The Bus Is In Motion. Always Be Prepared For Sudden Stops.” This does not seem like unreasonable advice. I have seen passengers stumble and fall because of an unexpected lurch. One should always expect the unexpected. Our lives are full of “sudden stops”.

I spend a fair amount of my work day as a teacher doling out warnings, which I hope sound like sage professorial advice. “Don’t skip class. Don’t do your work at the last minute. Don’t trust Spellcheck. Don’t take zeros by failing to complete your assignments. Don’t just sit there if you have a question. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

My father filled my formative years with his own singular, all-purpose parental advice: “Don’t be stupid.” This wisdom had the benefit of both pithiness and infinite expandability, and it has served me well throughout my life thus far. I have, nonetheless, still engaged in a fair amount of my very own stupidity—both accidental and deliberate—but I have tried my best to keep this to a manageable minimum.

As much as we might like to believe we can simply avoid problem situations or problem people, the sad fact of the matter is that both are unavoidable at times. In fact, one of the key—and most troublesome—issues that we continually face when it comes to developing and tweaking our social welfare policies is simply deciding to what extent individuals should be asked to bear the consequences of ignoring reasonable warnings of harm. Did your own carelessness or stupidity cause you to land right smack on your face—and should taxpayers bear the responsibility for picking you back up again?

If, for example, someone abuses drugs or alcohol, should taxpayers be asked to bear the cost of a liver transplant? If this individual persists in self-destructive behavior and causes yet more damage to their new liver, does society owe that person yet more expensive—and likely futile—medical treatments?

If someone who is receiving housing assistance is evicted for causing a nuisance or damaging their rental property, should taxpayers be responsible for finding that person or family yet another suitable shelter?

If a teenager decides to skip high school classes and so fails to learn how to read or write well enough to secure gainful employment, who should be responsible for paying for the Adult Education classes that will obviously be necessary later in life to remediate that person’s deficient academic skills?

Every life problem begs a question of personal culpability.

If we deem that a “second chance” is indeed reasonable to offer to those who find themselves in certain difficulties for which we feel they are blameless, do we also by default owe them third, fourth, and fifth chances as well if the same problems reoccur? When does compassion end and enabling begin? Is it possible that in some situations our innate human impulse to be kindhearted is actually destructive to others because we are rewarding irresponsibility and discouraging the development of independence or problem-solving skills?

I hate to write a long string of questions, but these are issues we still struggle to answer as a country, and the many debates that scorch our national dialogue at the present time often boil down to ones of how to best assist those who are unable—or perhaps unwilling—to help themselves. As these questions often hinge upon the failures of other governmental programs—perhaps public schools that failed to educate or family services that failed to keep the family together—the answers are rarely straightforward or simple. Problems caused by governmental inefficiency or neglect in the past many times turn into even worse problems today—so what should we do now? How can we right these wrongs, and how much time, money, and effort is reasonable? Yet more questions we must struggle to answer.

Some problems cannot be prevented, yet we still expect everyone to exercise good judgment and live with the consequences of the stupidity or carelessness that the average person would know to avoid. My foreign students found warning labels on ladders to be inexplicable and ridiculous—if you fall off, it is your own fault. If I stand up during my bus ride home later today, I will have no one to blame but myself if I fail to hold on to a strap and do a face plant when we round the corner.

Whether we decide that individuals should pay more heed to warnings or—as some suggest—our entire nation needs a warning label slapped on it due to its dysfunctions is one we have yet to adequately answer in many instances. Should we decide that foolish or deceitful individuals are causing society’s problems, that drives one set of solutions. If, however, one assumes that a discriminatory and cruel society is the root cause of the problems suffered by individuals, that pushes the discussion in a wholly different direction and alters the equation of blame and personal responsibility that drives the assessment of proposed solutions. Each possibility requires careful thought and sober evaluation when assessing individual or societal problems. Neither can, sad to say, be proven to be true beyond a shadow of a doubt.

And perhaps this debate over blame and responsibility explains our stark political divide better than any other metric we can use. Our problems may not be urban vs. rural, college educated vs. those who are not, or even Democrat vs. Republican. It could instead be the case that we cannot agree whether the individual or society as a whole are to blame for many of the problems that afflict our families and communities, so it is impossible to find the common ground necessary to formulate solutions that seem fair and compassionate to all.

Of course, as any effective physician, judge, or legislator knows, some measure of “tough love” is sometimes necessary in order to effect the best—but not, of course, perfect—outcomes for both individuals and our society as a whole. To lack the will or the spine to make hard decisions when they are needed will only lead to more problems for all later on, and to simply dole out favor where none is warranted is the worst of all possible solutions to the many problems facing us today because yet more problems are almost certain to spring from our “kindness”.

However, we are all ultimately to blame if we cannot cooperatively work to help those in need of help in a manner that balances personality responsibility and at least a smidgen of magnanimity—while also recognizing there is never a “perfect” solution to any of the perfectly awful problems afflicting our nation and its people.

The Cost Of Compassion

A few weeks ago Ruth Marcus caused quite a stir with a commentary in The Washington Post entitled “I would’ve aborted a fetus with Down syndrome. Women need that right.” Her viewpoint was offered as a counterpoint to the actions of state legislatures in North Dakota, Ohio, Indiana, and Louisiana, which have passed legislation that prohibits abortion if the sole reason for terminating the pregnancy is a pre-natal diagnosis of Down Syndrome, a genetic problem that results in impaired cognitive functioning and health problems associated with a shortened lifespan. Ms. Marcus framed this controversy as an attack on the reproductive rights of women, and data she quoted seemed to demonstrate that the majority of women would not choose to bring a child with Down Syndrome into the world because of the long-term financial costs involved—as well as the emotional toll on the parents and family.

However, I wonder whether this horrid discussion actually touches on much broader issues that increasingly vex our nation and seem more and more at the core of many controversies: Are there reasonable financial limits to our compassion, and how should these limitations translate into issues of law and public policy?

Americans are often adverse to the notion of limitations, which is reflected in our continued political inability to live within our means. Our breathtaking levels of federal debt, which has more than doubled in just the past ten years to $21 trillion, and willingness to both impose all sorts of unfunded mandates and pass legislation that robs the future to pay for the present is symptomatic of our societal refusal to grapple with economic reality. Ms. Marcus’ decision-making might seem cold-hearted and inhumane to some, but she is at least honest about the financial limitations of her personal compassion for others.

Public policy and spending are likewise increasingly embroiled in questions regarding the boundary between compassion and foolishness. Whether we are discussing healthcare, housing, education, immigration, or a host of other concerns, the shape of the dialogue does not vary. On the one side we have those who are arguing for limitations based on fiscal reality—they are the “heartless” ones. On the other side, we have those who demand expansion or protection of government programs and services—they are the “compassionate” ones. The dynamic plays out over and over, much like that endless loop of Muzak in the dentist’s office while your teeth are being drilled, and each side shakes their heads at the other while the borrowing and spending continues unabated. Our recent omnibus federal spending bill, which will tack another several hundred billion dollars of debt onto Americans by the end of only this fiscal year, is simply another in a long line of bipartisan failures to somehow balance compassion and the “heartless” arithmetic of fiscal reality.

Those of us who live in Illinois should have a front row seat for the collision of the rhetoric of our “heartless” Governor, Bruce Rauner, and his “compassionate” Democratic challenger, J.B. Pritzker, during the upcoming gubernatorial election. Governor Rauner will, probably to no avail, argue for more fiscal restraint because Illinois is crushed by debt. During just the past year—despite an increase in the state income tax and a strong national economy—the financial health of our state government has continued to deteriorate with astonishing speed. Illinois is now so far underwater that simply rising to the surface to gasp for air is now beyond all imagining.

The functional bankruptcy of our great state will, however, mean little to all those “compassionate” souls who will harken to Mr. Pritzker’s calls for increased spending on education, healthcare, senior care, and social programs. It is, after all, the belief of many that government exists to distribute benefits to the multitudes, which will somehow be financed by higher taxes on Illinois’ rapidly shrinking pool of “wealthy” taxpayers—many of whom are joining the general exodus of residents from Illinois as we sail blithely downwards toward insolvency.

It has been interesting to read the comments regarding Ms. Marcus’ ideas concerning the connection abortion rights and Down Syndrome. Many who agreed with her privileged her right to control her own future by refusing to accept responsibility for a child that would likely impose extra financial burdens on her life and that of her family. Her compassion in this situation is circumscribed by a dollar sign, which seems perfectly appropriate to those who worry about their life choices being limited by government.

Oddly enough, what many compassionate souls fail to recognize is that their demands for more—and more expensive—government programs and benefits are corroding our individual rights because it is binding our futures to unsustainable debt that will limit the choices available to us all. Politicians often try to mitigate the shock of out-of-control spending by framing pure pork as “investments”, but more commonly any effort to rein in spending is positioned as a test of our “compassion”, which puts those who want to spend away our collective futures in the morally enviable positions of being the nice people fighting against those nasty folks who aren’t nearly as good-hearted and generous. We don’t wear signs around our necks detailing the amounts of debt our federal, state, and local governments have saddled us with paying, but anyone who is, for example, struggling with the monthly costs of student loan payments has a clear understanding of how yesterday’s debt tends to constrict the choices available today.

Setting aside the question of the obvious immorality inherent in ending the life of a child for reasons that, high-flown rhetoric aside, pretty much boil down to personal convenience, Ms. Marcus is at least astute enough to recognize that her compassion has a price tag attached—and she can easily recognize this because the costs will not be spread out among our nation’s beleaguered taxpayers. The next time she publicly advocates for more borrowing and spending due to her finely tuned sense of concern for others, perhaps she should remember how the money borrowed today to help demonstrate how much more wonderful she is (unlike those meanies who understand arithmetic) simply burdens generations of Americans to come with the bill for her marvelous “compassion”.

If anyone can effectively explain why bankrupting our nation and its citizens with government spending is compassionate, there is a future in politics—or perhaps an editorship at The Washington Post—waiting for you.