Friday, December 30, 2022
Last mailbag of the year
Thursday, December 29, 2022
Straight White Male: The Lowest Difficulty Setting There Is
Straight White Male: The Lowest Difficulty Setting There Is
Posted on May 15, 2012 Posted by John Scalzi 801 Comments
I’ve been thinking of a way to explain to straight white men how life works for them, without invoking the dreaded word “privilege,” to which they react like vampires being fed a garlic tart at high noon. It’s not that the word “privilege” is incorrect, it’s that it’s not their word. When confronted with “privilege,” they fiddle with the word itself, and haul out the dictionaries and find every possible way to talk about the word but not any of the things the word signifies.
So, the challenge: how to get across the ideas bound up in the word “privilege,” in a way that your average straight white man will get, without freaking out about it?
Being a white guy who likes women, here’s how I would do it:
Dudes. Imagine life here in the US — or indeed, pretty much anywhere in the Western world — is a massive role playing game, like World of Warcraft except appallingly mundane, where most quests involve the acquisition of money, cell phones and donuts, although not always at the same time. Let’s call it The Real World. You have installed The Real World on your computer and are about to start playing, but first you go to the settings tab to bind your keys, fiddle with your defaults, and choose the difficulty setting for the game. Got it?
Okay: In the role playing game known as The Real World, “Straight White Male” is the lowest difficulty setting there is.
This means that the default behaviors for almost all the non-player characters in the game are easier on you than they would be otherwise. The default barriers for completions of quests are lower. Your leveling-up thresholds come more quickly. You automatically gain entry to some parts of the map that others have to work for. The game is easier to play, automatically, and when you need help, by default it’s easier to get.
Now, once you’ve selected the “Straight White Male” difficulty setting, you still have to create a character, and how many points you get to start — and how they are apportioned — will make a difference. Initially the computer will tell you how many points you get and how they are divided up. If you start with 25 points, and your dump stat is wealth, well, then you may be kind of screwed. If you start with 250 points and your dump stat is charisma, well, then you’re probably fine. Be aware the computer makes it difficult to start with more than 30 points; people on higher difficulty settings generally start with even fewer than that.
As the game progresses, your goal is to gain points, apportion them wisely, and level up. If you start with fewer points and fewer of them in critical stat categories, or choose poorly regarding the skills you decide to level up on, then the game will still be difficult for you. But because you’re playing on the “Straight White Male” setting, gaining points and leveling up will still by default be easier, all other things being equal, than for another player using a higher difficulty setting.
Likewise, it’s certainly possible someone playing at a higher difficulty setting is progressing more quickly than you are, because they had more points initially given to them by the computer and/or their highest stats are wealth, intelligence and constitution and/or simply because they play the game better than you do. It doesn’t change the fact you are still playing on the lowest difficulty setting.
You can lose playing on the lowest difficulty setting. The lowest difficulty setting is still the easiest setting to win on. The player who plays on the “Gay Minority Female” setting? Hardcore.
And maybe at this point you say, hey, I like a challenge, I want to change my difficulty setting! Well, here’s the thing: In The Real World, you don’t unlock any rewards or receive any benefit for playing on higher difficulty settings. The game is just harder, and potentially a lot less fun. And you say, okay, but what if I want to replay the game later on a higher difficulty setting, just to see what it’s like? Well, here’s the other thing about The Real World: You only get to play it once. So why make it more difficult than it has to be? Your goal is to win the game, not make it difficult.
Oh, and one other thing. Remember when I said that you could choose your difficulty setting in The Real World? Well, I lied. In fact, the computer chooses the difficulty setting for you. You don’t get a choice; you just get what gets given to you at the start of the game, and then you have to deal with it.
So that’s “Straight White Male” for you in The Real World (and also, in the real world): The lowest difficulty setting there is. All things being equal, and even when they are not, if the computer — or life — assigns you the “Straight White Male” difficulty setting, then brother, you’ve caught a break.
(Update, 11:07 pm: The comment thread hit 800 comments by 11pm and I’ve turned it off, because now I’m going to sleep and tomorrow I travel, and this is the sort of comment thread that needs to be watched closely. I may turn it back on at some later point, but inasmuch as 800 comments already made it slow to load up, don’t necessarily count on it. But after 800 comments, most of what could be said has been, I think.)
(Update 2: Here’s a follow-up article addressing some common questions/comments regarding this piece.)
(Update 3: Some final thoughts here.)
(Update 4, 5/18/22: A ten-year retrospective on the piece is now up.)
A look back at my predictions for 2022
A look back at my predictions for 2022
Matthew Yglesias — Read time: 10 minutes
A look back at my predictions for 2022
Better than last year!
New episode of Bad Takes is out today all about the debate over Louisa May Alcott’s gender identity.
Each December here at Slow Boring, I like to end the year with both a list of probabilistic predictions for the year ahead and a look at the previous December’s predictions. According to the research presented by Philip Tetlock and Dan Gardner in their book “Superforecasters,” practicing predictions in this way can help you get better at predicting things over time.
And I sure hope that’s true because last December, when I did my first-ever look back, my results were terrible and I’ve been dreading this post all year.
The good news is that this year my forecasts did in fact get better — 75 percent of the things I said would happen with 90 percent confidence actually happened, as did 83 percent of the things I had 80 percent confidence in, 70 percent of the things I had 60 percent confidence in, and 50 percent of the things I had 60 percent confidence in.
Remember the goal here is not to get all the predictions right (which would mean only predicting very boring things) but to really nail the calibrations rate. If you say 10 different things have a 70 percent chance of happening, a good calibrations rate would mean you’d see seven of them happen. And since some error is inevitable, what you’d really like to see (and here I failed) is error happening symmetrically in both directions. You can see I suffered here from systematic overconfidence, the columnist’s cardinal sin.
And that’s the main point of the exercise: not that I per se want to become a superforecaster, but that writing these things down with odds attached is a good way of trying to beat back that overconfidence. “If I grab a pair of dice, I probably won’t roll snake eyes five times in a row” and “D.C. probably won’t cancel five days of school for snow this winter” are both predictions I would stand behind, but there’s actually an incredibly large gap between the probabilities associated with these two things. Casual writing tends to elide the difference between “this would be unusual” and “this is spectacularly unlikely.” It also often struggles with efforts to express an idea like “this probably won’t happen, but the odds of it happening aren’t tiny and are rising, and the consequences would be really bad so I’d like you to worry about it.” Attempting to quantify with exact numbers even occasionally is a way of trying to break bad habits.
But to do that, it’s important to examine what went right and what went wrong.
Some predictions that I made about politics
I started off with a troika of predictions about the midterms, all made with high confidence, of which only one came true:
Democrats lose both houses of Congress (90%)
Democrats lose at least two Senate seats (80%)
Democrats lose fewer than six Senate seats (80%)
We’ve discussed the midterms a fair amount in previous columns, but looking back on this, the very early overconfidence about Democratic Senate losses was based on very crude extrapolation from the historical record. The president’s party almost always loses ground in the midterms. The 2022 map, while probably the most friendly Senate map Democrats can get, left them with a bunch of vulnerable seats and zero margin for error. We know that the thermostatic pattern is sometimes disrupted (in 2002, for example), but those disruptions are rare. So I basically reasoned that because thermostatic disruptions are rare, Dems’ odds of holding the Senate were extremely bad.
The right way to think this through would have been to be more specific. If you’d asked me a year ago whether the Supreme Court strike down Roe v. Wade, my forecast would’ve been overwhelming odds of gutting its core protections (à la John Roberts’ proposal in Dobbs) and a greater than 50 percent chance that there would be five votes to rip off the band-aid and formally strike it down. And from there I could have reasoned that there were decent odds that overturning Roe would have a counter-thermostatic effect. I still would have ended up predicting Democrats lose the Senate — Dobbs explains a lot but there was more to it, like good ads from Democrats and bad candidates from the GOP — but I should have been able to reason my way to a more restrained forecast here.
Some better political forecasts:
Nancy Pelosi announces retirement plans (70%)
Stephen Breyer does not retire (60%)
Some version of Build Back Better passes (60%)
Joe Biden is still president (90%)
At least one Biden cabinet-rank official resigns (70%)
Democrats go down at least one governor on net (60%)
Liz Cheney loses primary (80%)
Some version of USICA passes Congress (70%)
I am glad Breyer proved me wrong and only regret not being more confident about Cheney.
One thing I want to point out is that at the time, my “it’s not dead yet” take on Democrats’ reconciliation legislation was moderately contrarian. I think the folks who spent months and months accusing Joe Manchin of acting in bad faith to protect his personal investments in fossil fuels have not publicly reckoned with their own bad forecasts.
I think my incorrect cabinet resignation forecast is fascinating. You don’t get news stories about things that don’t happen, but the level of continuity in the Biden cabinet has been extraordinary. Barack Obama’s cabinet was pretty stable, but by this point in his administration, Peter Orszag, Christina Romer, and Rahm Emanuel had all stepped down from cabinet-rank White House posts, while the only notable Biden change has been in the non-cabinet White House Press Secretary job.
Some predictions about the pandemic
My Covid forecasting was better than my political forecasting. This is perhaps due to good luck, but I think perhaps it’s actually easier to predict things you have a little more emotional and intellectual distance from:
Fewer U.S. Covid deaths in 2022 than in 2021 (80%)
Fewer U.S. Covid deaths in 2022 than in 2020 (80%)
China abandons Covid Zero (70%)
Additional booster shots authorized (80%)
You can start a fight on Twitter right now by going online and tweeting “the pandemic’s over, guys, and has been for a while,” but I think these accurate forecasts are the cash value of what it means for the pandemic to be over. The SARS-CoV-2 virus continues to exist and since it represents an addition to the extant stock of respiratory viruses, it continues to be very bad for the world. Life expectancy at 70 (or older) is just going to be lower going forward than it would have been in a world where the virus didn’t exist. But as a practical matter, the death toll is waning as people enter their twilight years with some built-up immunity from prior infections and booster shots.
The alternative of relying indefinitely on non-pharmaceutical interventions is just not viable, as even Xi Jinping has admitted. But just because “vaxxed and relaxed” is the best we can do in 2022 and 2023 doesn’t make it the best policy — we should be pulling levers to develop better SARS-CoV-2 vaccines (nasal sprays that would block transmission and pan-coronavirus vaccines that wouldn’t be so vulnerable to variants) and stepping-up research on things like virus-killing far-ultraviolet light.
Predictions about the economy
For the second year in a row I underestimated inflation, but less badly this time:
November 2022 year-on-year CPI growth is below 6% (70%)
November 2022 year-on-year CPI growth is above 4% (70%)
The Fed ends up doing more than its currently forecasted three interest rate hikes (60%)
No recession in 2021 (90%)
The unemployment rate stays between 4 and 5% (70%)
Basically, I correctly thought the Fed would hike more aggressively than it was saying, but I incorrectly assumed that would be enough to get us below 6 percent (and I thought unemployment would be higher). I’m going to chalk that up in part to the invasion of Ukraine disrupting world food supplies, but that in turn is just a reminder that bad news can come from any direction and you need to think comprehensively.
I thought it was weird that there was so much recession buzz last winter and felt like that one was kind of a gimme.
There is a lot of negativity bias in people’s processing of the news environment. This leads people to be simultaneously upset about various inflationary conditions like high levels of job openings, labor churn, and understaffing but also panicked about headlines indicating layoffs at various companies. But you have to try to actually integrate these trends in your mind. Nobody wants to get laid off from a cushy white-collar position and need to take a lower-paid retail job, but the fact that all those jobs are open is relevant context for understanding the economic situation of people facing layoffs. It continues to be a historically good time to find a job, and you need to read layoff news in that context.
For broadly similar reasons, I think that right now there is some serious underestimating of the feasibility of securing an economic “soft landing,” but that’s a story for a different piece.
Foreign politics
All of these things happened, except for Orbán losing:
Emmanuel Macron re-elected (60%)
The German traffic light coalition exploits loopholes to get around the constitutional debt brake (70%)
Lula elected president of Brazil (60%)
Viktor Orbán loses power in Hungary (60%)
Sinn Féin becomes the largest party in the Northern Ireland assembly (60%)
On the elections, I was basically just predicting that the polls would hold up, which is more often than not a good bet.
The Germany thing is interesting because I turned out to be right, but the specific sequence of events was different from what I expected. Russia invaded Ukraine and upended the European economy which, among other things, led to the suspension of the constitutional debt brake. But I didn’t think Russia would invade:
Russia does not invade Ukraine (60%)
New U.S. sanctions on Russia (70%)
Saudi Arabia and Israel establish diplomatic relations (60%)
The U.S. and Canada reach an agreement on softwood lumber (70%)
No military conflict between the PRC and Taiwan (90%)
At the time I made these forecasts, Metaculus had the odds of a Russian invasion lower than I did, so I feel okay about getting this one wrong even though it was obviously consequential. At the time, it was clear that Russia was making some kind of threats in the direction of invading, but I don’t think it was clear that an invasion was likely until late January. As I wrote back in early February before the invasion, invading Ukraine was a really bad idea, and I kind of thought Putin would recognize that and pocket some diplomatic concessions instead of wrecking his military.
The sanctions prediction is an example of me actually learning how to get better at predicting stuff. I saw there was a non-trivial chance of an invasion (which would lead to sanctions), but also a decent chance of something short of invasion that still led to sanctioning plus some outside chance of an unrelated dispute, so I put the odds of sanctions higher than the odds of war.
Saudi Arabia and Israel keep getting less and less clandestine about their cooperation, and I thought the Saudis would want to go public about it to gain leverage over the Biden administration, but so far they haven’t. I think maybe the right way to think about it is that a Saudi-Israeli diplomatic breakthrough would play as a “win” for Biden, but the Saudi government doesn’t like Biden and doesn’t want to give him a win.
Meanwhile, it’s just really stupid that this softwood lumber dispute hasn’t been resolved, but sometimes dumb stuff happens.
Uncertainty is annoying
After the midterms, we had the usual round of discourse where some people dunked on Nate Silver for making bad predictions and then other, smarter people countered that 538 does robust calibration checks and they come out well.
But the reason people think these forecasts are bad is that it’s not usual for 538 to say “so-and-so will probably win” and then he loses. But this is, of course, exactly what happens in a well-calibrated forecast. This call in WA-3 in particular got a lot of dunks. But the thing is, there are hundreds of House seats and they’re mostly safe seats — any given cycle will almost certainly have one or two weird “2 in 100” type outcomes. And 30 percent of the people who you say have a 70 percent chance of winning should lose.
The math here isn’t hard, and if you just think of it in terms of gambling it seems totally reasonable — nobody is so good at poker that they win every hand.
But when it comes to big topics of public concern, like who will win the election or what’s happening with the economy, people really want to make and read definitive predictions about what will happen. Even people who say they aren’t interested in predictions tend to implicitly make them, claiming this or that will have catastrophic effects or huge benefits. It’s really hard to admit, especially to yourself, that it’s hard to know what will happen in the future. It’s possible to get better at making predictions, and hopefully I’ll continue to improve. But a big part of doing that well is acknowledging uncertainty rather than insisting on making the correct call all the time. To the best of my knowledge, it’s actually not possible to do that.
Update your profile
Only paid subscribers can comment on this post
Check your email
For your security, we need to re-authenticate you.
Click the link we sent to tka.lee@gmail.com, or click here to sign in.
Wednesday, December 28, 2022
What follows from the idea that new construction raises rents?
Saturday, December 24, 2022
Kardfogu's Guide to Shooty Outlanders
Beginning to feel a lot like Mailbag
Beginning to feel a lot like Mailbag
Matthew Yglesias — Read time: 19 minutes
Beginning to feel a lot like Mailbag
Long movies, dysfunctional agencies, and the case for incumbency advantage
At the suggestion of Matthew Edwards in the comments of “Secret Congress delivers more good news on clean water,” I’m going to try to routinely include some positive developments at the top of these mailbag columns.
The obvious one this week, I think, is the inclusion of the Electoral Count Act in the omnibus appropriations bill. The ECA will help forestall efforts to steal future presidential elections, which is good on its own terms. But more broadly, its inclusion represents implicit recognition on the part of GOP leadership that what Trump did at the end of his presidency was really bad in ways that transcend partisan politics. And I think that’s worth noting not because the ECA solves every problem, but because I think its passage does cut against certain widely-made, super-pessimistic forecasts that I haven’t really seen people revisit, even though it’s been looking likely that this would happen for a while now.
I’m also glad to see governor-elect Maura Healy talking about the need for land use reform in Massachusetts.
Now, on to the mailbag!
Marie Kennedy: Not sure if you caught Michelle Goldberg highlighting a piece by Maurice Mitchell as an antidote to the Tema Okun problem... What’s the word on the street in DC? Is “the fever breaking” in leftist political organizations, or is it just wishful thinking on Goldberg’s part?
It’s a great piece column from Goldberg and a great piece from Mitchell and I’m glad they wrote them. Is it wishful thinking? I wouldn’t put it that way. I think that if you could read Goldberg’s mind, she would say that institutional dysfunction is in part self-sustaining because if people think other people are terrified, they will be terrified themselves. Part of causing the fever to break is to tell other people that the fever has broken and they will be safe if they respond in a sensible way to controversies that arise.
My broad sense is that she is right, and the fever is breaking.
That said, my word of caution continues to be that progressive groups are inherently vulnerable to meltdowns as long as they don’t meet their own standards for diversity, and those standards may be unrealistic unless people can go back to addressing talent pipeline issues as legitimate concerns.
Mike: I was pleasantly surprised that you liked Jeanne Dielman, because you've seemed to have very “dadcore” movie tastes. And now I see you watching Claire Denis movies and also liking them. Newfound appreciation for arthouse cinema, or have you always secretly liked this kind of thing? And bonus question: Is it good for the S&S list to be headed by an excellent movie that most people haven't heard of and will probably hate, or would it be better for it to stick to safe popular classics?
I spent a lot of time seeing arthouse movies in the mid-aughts when I had tons of time on my hands and friends who liked to do that sort of thing. I drifted away from it over the years and I do fundamentally have a poppier sensibility than the “Sight and Sound” poll. If you ask me my favorite movies, the answers just aren’t going to be old foreign films. That said, the latest poll jolted me out of my dogmatic slumber and got me to finally sign up for Criterion Channel, and I’ve seen a bunch of great things there.
In terms of “Jeanne Dielman” at the top of the list, it’s not a choice that I love from the standpoint of what’s good for cinema’s role in culture.
I think it’s not just an arty movie but almost an academic one — you need to be pretty steeped in movies to appreciate a film that’s largely playing with our expectations of what a movie should be like. Now by that token, I can see why a distinguished panel of film critics would like it — they’ve seen a ton of movies. But what I liked about the AFI “100 Greatest American Movies of All Time” list is that I think it makes for a good homework assignment for someone who’s decided they like movies and want to learn more about movies and film history. You can quibble with the picks and it has terrible representation of Black and female filmmakers, but in broad strokes, this is an introduction to some of the best-executed versions of mainstream filmmaking and serves a clear pedagogical purpose.
That’s not really a criticism of S&S to be clear, but I think a survey of critics’ tastes is just less interesting than a more deliberately curatorial exercise.
George: I’ve read a lot of commentary handwringing movies being too long (think the 2.5-3+ hour runtimes of movies this year like “The Batman,” “Wakanda Forever,” “The Fabelmans,” “Avatar 2,” and the upcoming “Babylon”.) As a guy who likes movies, do you have any thoughts to contribute on this discourse?
I am not a fan of the long movie trend. I think it is defensible if you are adapting a novel to sometimes say “look, the novel was written to be a novel, not to be a movie, so I was forced to choose between the compromise of an inappropriately long film or compromising on the story, and I decided all things considered that the best thing to do was to go long.” I will also accept, as in the aforementioned Jeanne Dielman, that sometimes being long is part of the point.
But in general, the nature of the medium is that it should be short. James Cameron said that if you can binge-watch a TV show you can watch a long movie and that it’s fine to just get up and go pee. But I disagree with that. Part of what makes a TV show not just a very long movie is that it has breaks built into it. You should be able to sit down in a movie theater with a soda, drink the soda, and then go pee after the movie is over. And part of the job of the screenwriter, the director, and the editor is to compose a story that fits those parameters. You’re sitting down to make a Batman reboot and you could write basically anything — go write something that’s the length of a proper movie! Raiders of the Lost Ark is 115 minutes, E.T. is 114 minutes — the whole reason we might care about Steven Spielberg’s thinly veiled autobiography is that he’s a master filmmaker. He knows what length a movie should be. Go make a movie that length.
I rewatched the 80-minute “Run Lola Run” recently. Part of its brilliance is that Tom Tykwer and his editor Mathilde Bonnefoy pack a ton of information into this frame. You learn all about Lola’s family, the creepy bank security guard, Manni’s life of crime, and the whole possible future life trajectories of several other residents of Berlin all in the context of a gripping, suspenseful movie that is also short. This isn’t easy, but that’s the job.
Claire: Obviously, your (Matt’s) relationship with Effective Altruism has always been a bit uneasy, and that’s even more true now post-FTX implosion. You’ve mentioned before that the optics of Effective Altruism were never particularly good (it’s largely a group of nerds sitting around in T-shirts, and not a group you can easily introduce to policy makers), and I think we can all agree that the SBF has at least temporarily made EA politically toxic.
If you were going to deliver advice to individuals in EA leadership roles, what would you personally recommend on how to make these ideas less politically toxic over the next several years?
(Disclosure: I work for an EA-aligned organization, but not in a communications or external-facing role.)
One baseline observation is that the large amount of money FTX was pumping into the movement created gravitational incentives toward being inward-looking. There was a sense of an abundance of money but scarcity of attention, so the key first-order priority to was to persuade other EAs that your thing was important on EA terms so that you could elevate it on the EA agenda.
This post I wrote making the case for more funding of alternative protein research came about because of a conversation Kate had with Bruce Friedrich of the Good Food Institute at the EA Global conference in D.C. And in official EA doctrinal terms, the case for alternative protein research is mostly about animal welfare. But my post is mostly about climate change, because climate is a more mainstream policy issue, climate philanthropy is a lot larger than EA, and “negative environmental externalities associated with farming should be reduced when possible” is a lot less philosophically contentious than animal welfare. It’s a completely above-board pitch — the climate impact of agriculture is genuinely large, and we have thus far made almost no progress on addressing it. But it’s also an effort to spend less time in an internal argument about cause prioritization and more time just bringing an EA perspective to bear on a conversation that’s very mainstream in policy circles.
By the same token, I liked this Scott Alexander post about ChatGPT and racism. Instead of refighting the “x-risk versus algorithmic bias” wars, he’s pointing out that a lot of people are already worried about algorithmic bias and already doing stories about how the anti-bias measures at OpenAI don’t work, so maybe let’s have a broader conversation about the reality that the frontier AI companies keep releasing products that are both incredibly impressive and also fail their own stated goals. The norm in the software industry is that it’s fine to release buggy products and then fix them. But the FAA won’t let you iteratively design passenger airplanes on that basis.
James B: You've written before about the phenomenon of “unrepresentative activists” who claim to speak for minority communities, and how this has played out with respect to the Black, Latino and Asian communities. Do you have a read on whether this same phenomenon is playing out with Native Americans? I have notice a lot of indigenous activists promoting (or being used by progressives to promote) various lefty ideas, some of which feel uncomfortably close to the old “noble savage” trope. Most recently it was a TED Talk about “Indigenous Guardians” protecting the planet from climate change.
There is absolutely some of this going around, but the difference is that Native American nations have formal governance institutions that involve accountability to constituents. So if you want to know what the Navajo Nation wants with regard to some controversy in Arizona or New Mexico politics, there is an actual Navajo Nation President whose job is (among other things) to advocate for Navajo interests. This isn’t to say there’s uniformity or monolithic opinion — the incumbent president lost his reelection bid last fall — but that’s exactly the point. Tribal officials have to actually worry about how representative their ideas are.
Peter Gerdes: What's going on with the NRC? Are the political appointees secretly trying to scuttle nuclear power? I can't imagine that the physicists, nuclear engineers and environmental scientists are attitudinally against more nuclear power.
Is the problem a failure to apply cost/benefit analysis, eg, each concern about a possible risk gets a rule to fix it regardless of the complexity cost? Is it an incentives problem (no one wants to be blamed if things go wrong)?
I wrote about this for Bloomberg recently, but I think the basic model with the career staff of any federal agency is that they basically don’t want things to change. In part because people impatient for change tend to select out of a career in the civil service, but in part because they live in fear of being hung out to dry. There are not, right now, members of Congress yelling at NRC officials about why they aren’t licensing more reactors, and there are no protests at their office. If they do something different, there might be protests and they might get yelled at.
I don’t think of the political appointees as “secretly trying to scuttle nuclear power,” but they also haven’t made a definitive choice to advance nuclear power. And this really becomes a question for Joe Biden, Mitch McConnell, and other congressional leaders. Do they want the NRC commissioners to prod the career staff, even if that results in some articles in the Washington Post about how NRC career staff are worried about prodding from the political appointees? If the NRC does issue new rules and people do start building a new generation of nuclear plants — will the top politicians face down protestors and complainers and tell them they are wrong?
Joseph Politano: What economic event/outcome since the start of the pandemic most surprised you, and how much (if at all) has it shifted how you think about the economy?
I was surprised when the original durable goods inflation took off. Like a lot of things, it’s easy to explain this in retrospect — people had extra money from relief programs and didn’t want to spend it on travel or dining out, so they bought tons of durable goods and that sent prices soaring. But at the time, I thought prices would go up a little bit but then pretty quickly people would say “fuck no, I’m not paying that” and just sit on excess savings. After all, durable goods prices had been in structural decline for a generation or two, and I thought sticker shock would nip inflation in the bud.
Taylor: What’s the case for a young person to become a journalist today? The pay is low, the layoffs are frequent, people blame “the media” for all kinds of bullshit and you’re limited to living in one of two cities, more or less. If you’ve got the skills to be a good journalist, there are many jobs you’ll be good at where you’ll make more money and have better job security. Why bother?
I don’t really encourage people to pursue careers in journalism, but I do want to complicate “the pay is low” as an idea. What’s happened is that journalism has become more of a star-driven, hits-driven, tournament-like business. Thanks to the internet, it’s possible to reach more people than ever before and to monetize in a bigger variety of ways. So the pay has become more unequal, which has made it a riskier undertaking but not necessarily a worse one, depending on your appetite for that kind of thing.
kjz: Tyler Cowen recently wrote a short post about his disillusionment with the Westminster system of government. The main thrust of his criticism is that UK politics is even more gridlocked than American politics, despite the centralization of executive power. Given that you've previously written favorably of the Westminster system (which Tyler mentions in his post), does this argument resonate with you? Why or why not?
The main thing I think about U.K. politics is that their land use policy is very bad and also a much bigger deal than comparable land use issues in the United States thanks to the different geography of the country. I don’t see that problem as stemming from either parliamentarianism or centralization, which are the two main aspects of the British constitutional order that Cowen criticizes.
I’d also say that a lot of recent problems in British politics have their origins at least in part in key actors abandoning the logic of Westminster-style constitutionalism. That’s Nick Clegg joining a coalition rather than letting David Cameron helm a weak minority government, it’s Cameron holding a Brexit referendum rather than upholding parliamentary sovereignty, and it’s both Labour and the Tories making big policy pivots based on American-style leadership primaries rather than closed-door meetings of MPs.
Greg S: Is the fact of incumbency advantage good? Should we want to see it shrink or grow?
Here are two things I want from the political system:
Voters should be responsive to what politicians actually do in office.
Politicians should be responsive to what their constituents want.
If both of those things hold, most incumbents will cater to local interests and voters will notice that, and the result will be that incumbents outperform on average. So I think a healthy incumbency advantage is probably a sign of a healthy political system. But that’s not because incumbency advantage is per se good.
David: Are there any issues where you felt very strongly before you found some data that reversed your position?
It’s pretty rare to see some data and then suddenly change your mind. But there are lots of things where my opinion has shifted over time as I’ve learned more — one is about transportation infrastructure, where back 10-15 years ago I would have adhered to a very conventional “just spend more money” line. My land use views have evolved over time from “we need to foster quality urbanism” to “we just need to allow more housing.” And I think my health care views have shifted to more emphasis on health insurance as financial insurance to protect people against the economic consequences of ill health and less as a central lever of public health policy.
Walker: Who would be the best plausible nominee for Dems in the 2024 Presidential Election? I think it would be Whitmer.
In the real world, the best thing for Democrats is for Biden to run again.
If you could avoid a primary and just install a different person by acclamation, then yeah, I think Gretchen Whitmer looks like a very strong choice. You could maybe balance the ticket with Ben Ray Luján.
But realistically, it remains the case that the odds are very good that the next time Biden is not the nominee it’s going to be Kamala Harris, and the best thing for Democrats is for Harris to make better political decisions. I feel like I end up saying this every other mailbag, but she should be spending time with Whitmer and her team (and Catherine Cortez Masto and Tammy Baldwin and Roy Cooper) and building out a circle of people who are experienced with winning in purple and red states. Harris’ only genuine weakness in a potential primary is that people are worried she’ll lose. If she has a laser focus on being popular and winning, she’ll easily brush off leftist opposition. But right now, almost nobody is convinced she’s a general election winner.
Michael Adelman: How do you rate the chances of Ron DeSantis becoming an American Orbán and achieving a decades-long hammerlock on power for the GOP? David Shor considers DeSantis a heavy favorite to win the 2024 election with a massive Senate majority. And DeSantis has shown many Orbán-like tendencies - aggressively entrenching partisan advantages, wielding state power against civil society in illiberal ways, rallying support with anti-immigrant and anti-LGBTQ culture war, etc. I could easily imagine a world where DeSantis and the state/Federal officials that ride his coattails grow the GOP's structural advantages by a few more points, after which it starts to feel hopeless to oppose them especially in a country where self-described liberals are a tiny minority. As a supporter of social programs, environmental policy, and pluralism, this makes me really sad, but I fear the odds of DeSantis both winning and locking in GOP power are pretty high. Do you agree? And what (if anything) should liberals be doing now to avoid the fate of the Hungarian opposition?
I don’t find it that constructive to dwell on exactly how likely I think worst-case scenarios are.
The main thing I would say about DeSantis is that given the 2024 map, he could easily take the White House and a large Senate majority with 50 percent or even 49 percent of the two-party vote. And DeSantis plus a large Senate majority would likely enact large cuts in Medicaid and other anti-poverty programs and at least attempt the kind of big cuts in Medicare that he voted for as a House member. We now also see that he’s come out for a near-total ban on abortions in Florida. To me, those are sufficient reasons to not vote for him, and I think that if most Americans believe a DeSantis administration would mean cutting Medicare and Medicaid while banning abortion, they won’t vote for him either.
So unless he radically pivots away from his House record on these issues, the idea I am going to try to keep front and center is that Ron DeSantis has bad positions on major public policy issues.
Philip R: Me and my fiancee are moving to DC soon and want to live inside the city - what neighborhoods would you recommend for a young YIMBY couple with a basset hound? Access to parks and the metro would be a major plus.
It’s a little hard to opine without knowing the details of your situation, but my general advice would be to look in the string of neighborhoods that follow the Green Line north from downtown — Shaw, U Street, Columbia Heights, Petworth — that all offer good city living and transit access, but also plenty of opportunities to have a small yard for the dog.
David_in_Chicago: Why can't successful CEOs find successful replacements (e.g., Iger, Dalio, Bezos, Schultz)? Does the shadow loom too large? Does the replacement's need to insert their ideas create disruption?
It’s not like this never happens — both Apple and Google have had successful leadership transitions, and I don’t think it’s clear that your pessimism about Amazon is entirely correct.
But my guess is the main reason that these transitions sometimes go badly is that it’s objectively hard and also not necessarily something any given CEO has experience with. There’s not some obvious way to practice. What’s interesting is that when a successful transition does happen, it often constitutes big change. Tim Cook has been a successful CEO, but he’s nothing like Steve Jobs. He is instead a guy who rose to a senior leadership role at Apple by having skills that were highly complementary to Jobs’ skills, which meant that he was already running large swathes of the company before taking over. But that in turn meant that while Cook is now the CEO instead of Jobs, it would be misleading to say that Cook does the work that Jobs used to do — the whole way responsibilities are parceled out is completely different.
Michael Tolhurst: If part of good policy is priming the culture, I'm curious what a Slow Boring holiday Hallmark movie might look.
Is it a high powered executive director of a DC progressive non profit returning to her hometown and falling in love with a staffer for a congressman from a suburban district outside of Cleveland? Or does the couple find love after feuding over the future of a now defunct historic holiday theme park that is planned to be redeveloped into [a new mass transit station/high density housing/large scale renewable]? What would be the key themes of such a movie, and how could the genre be adapted to best express the themes of the blog?
A greedy real estate developer, a woke community activist, and a normie homeowner end up snowed in together with some construction workers and sales agents and need to piece together an improved holiday celebration for themselves. By actually talking to each other in a real and direct way, they discover that their interests, though not identical, are reconcilable once they recognize that reducing deadweight loss generates surplus.
Russell Brandom: Do you have a favored remedy for reforming a broken institution? What should we do when an important agency is no longer capable of fulfilling its function? Lots of the discourse (both right and left) seems to be grappling with some version of this, but I have not heard a general theory of how to respond to institutional failure.
I think shutting agencies down and spinning up new ones is underrated. One of the real successes of the Dodd-Frank financial reform law was creating a brand-new Consumer Financial Protection Bureau with a distinct ethos and esprit de corps. They also shut down the dysfunctional Office of Thrift Supervision and parceled out its functions to other regulatory agencies.
Another example is the police reform saga of Camden, New Jersey, which didn’t “defund the police” but did literally eliminate the city’s police department and replace it with policing services they contracted from the county. Many of the officers in the “new” department were just the people who’d worked at the old department, but the point was that the new department was new and everyone had to apply for their jobs. I have a friend who ran a school turnaround project where, similarly, a failing high school was shut down and then a “new” high school was established in the same building. She ended up hiring a lot of the “old” high school’s former employees but not all of them — and it was a fresh start with not just a new principal and some new staff, but a new tone and a new culture.
Update your profile
Only paid subscribers can comment on this post
Check your email
For your security, we need to re-authenticate you.
Click the link we sent to tka.lee@gmail.com, or click here to sign in.