Thursday, September 30, 2021

My favorite Covid counterfactuals

My favorite Covid counterfactuals
What if Trump had followed his own guidelines?
Ross Douthat published a couple of speculative columns on Covid Counterfactuals. As someone who loves alternate history as a genre and also took a whole very serious philosophy class about the importance of counterfactual analysis for thinking about history, I like this type of column.

But Douthat left on the table my two favorite counterfactuals, both of which hinge on places where I think close-run decisions plausibly made big differences in the outcomes.

So here they are:

What if Donald Trump hadn’t abandoned his own task force recommendations on reopening?

What if Pfizer announced its efficacy results before Election Day and narrowly pushed Trump over the top?

In both cases, I don’t think we’d necessarily see huge changes to public health outcomes, because I think the evidence shows that Covid has been pretty responsive to changes in human behavior, but not that responsive to changes in policy. But I do think we would have seen significant changes in our politics and discourse.


(Jabin Botsford/The Washington Post via Getty Images)
Scott Alexander has this idea of “the scissor,” which is perfectly calibrated to divided people. One of Douthat’s conclusions is that “Covid’s death rate makes it a perfect scissor: It’s high enough to make the alarmed feel vindicated but still low enough that many skeptics feel vindicated as well.” I don’t think that’s correct.

I think instead that Donald Trump turns everything into a scissor, and that his mastery of this is his big strength and big weakness as a leader. And I think that secondarily, the American conservative movement as a whole is built to be scissor-friendly. Its leaders understand that having a high salience debate over their top policy priority (low taxes for rich people) is bad for the cause, so the party’s current incarnation is institutionally built to elevate controversies about anything else.

The plan that wasn’t
It’s easy to forget, but in early April of 2020, the pandemic was not a sharply polarized issue.

On the one hand, the Trump administration released a plan for reopening the economy that wasn’t just a denunciation of all restrictions and a call to take two hydroxychloroquines in the morning. Around this same time, the Center for American Progress — the Democratic Party’s all-but-official think tank — released its own plan that, while stricter than Trump’s, was very much not aiming for Covid Zero.

Delaware’s Democratic governor, John Carney, said the Trump guidelines “seem to make sense.” Lindsey Graham obviously didn’t criticize Trump, but he also cautioned that “you really can’t go back to work until we have more tests.”

The CAP plan, meanwhile, doesn’t say anything about keeping schools closed in fall 2020 and suggests that the federal government develop the capacity to do serological testing so that people who get Covid and recover can be certified as immune and less subject to restriction.

But then Trump, I guess spooked by the terrible headline jobs and GDP numbers in spring 2020, totally abandoned the task force plan and started doing “liberate Michigan” tweets, wholeheartedly endorsing the lifting of as many restrictions as possible in as many places as possible. It was only then in late April — when Georgia opened up sooner than the Trump guidelines would have suggested and an Atlantic article blasted it as “Georgia’s Experiment in Human Sacrifice” — that the polarized Covid politics we now know were suddenly born.

If Trump had instead encouraged Georgia to open up in a slower, more phased way (adhering to his own guidelines) while simultaneously pushing states like California to reopen their outdoor spaces (also an Atlantic-endorsed idea!), he could have easily occupied the political middle ground.

Conservatives eventually adopted different rationales for the Reopen Everything policy approach, but back in spring 2020, the actual reason given was Richard Epstein’s comically inaccurate forecast that the whole pandemic would kill at most 50,000 people. If Trump had hewed to a more moderate course, it would have swiftly become clear that Epstein was just wrong and that the more moderate course was justified. Instead, because Trump made the wrong call, the whole conservative movement had to rationalize a policy choice made on false premises. And because Trump was being so irresponsible, the left came to view maximum Covid zealotry as the way to be a good progressive, forgetting both their own relatively moderate spring views and the once widespread consensus that we should try to flatten the curve but couldn’t realistically hope to halt the spread of the virus.

What difference would it have made?
I don’t think any of this would necessarily have generated dramatically different public health outcomes. I think the evidence is very clear that most of the stuff the Covid Cautious people advocate for like masking is in fact quite effective at reducing the spread of the virus if people actually do it. But my interpretation of the huge nationwide case surge in the winter of 2020-21 is that the kind of policy measures blue state governors ordered were not that effective at changing actual behavior.

Now one big part of this is that the absence of orders doesn’t mean nobody took precautions.

I know plenty of people in Texas who spent a whole year social distancing, wearing masks, and otherwise acting just like the majority of my friends in D.C. But I also know people in D.C. who spent a whole year having unmasked, indoor gatherings with wide-ranging groups of people. In other words, regardless of policy, cautious people behave cautiously and incautious people do not — the main difference is whether they’re at a restaurant or in a house.

But I think it would have made a huge difference politically. I think the big story of the 2020 campaign is that Trump took a strong hand and played it terribly. Then after losing, he took the weak hand of being a certified election loser and played it remarkably skillfully — using the myth of the stolen election to retain his untouchable status in the GOP. But a more sensible Trump (or, say, a non-Trump GOP president) could easily have avoided turning Covid into this sharply polarized issue.

The United States is pretty unique in this regard, and I think that’s all about Trump being the Edward Scissorhands of politics rather than Covid being a perfect scissor.


What has made a huge difference and is increasingly driving the pandemic’s evolution as a red state problem is whether people take vaccines. This raises our second question.

Who trusts the Trump vaccine?
In the real world, Trump’s big thing was to tout miracle cures and lie.

He hyped hydroxy, he proclaimed the Regeneron treatment he received to be a “cure,” and then he (falsely) promised free monoclonal antibody treatment for everyone. So when he confidently boasted that we would have successful vaccine trials way ahead of what most analysts predicted, sensible people were naturally suspicious. But by fall, it was clear that mRNA vaccines with a very high likelihood of passing Phase 3 clinical trials had in fact been produced in record time. This generated a lot of anxiety that Trump was going to rush an unready vaccine onto the market as a re-election ploy.

Now as it turns out, Trump didn’t do that. And aware that this controversy was in the mix, Pfizer actually withheld its press release touting its own assessment that their Phase 3 trial was successful until a couple of days after the election.

But what if Pfizer had made the announcement and Trump had been reelected? How would things be different if we were talking today about a Trump vaccine?

Before the election, liberals had varied reactions to the prospect of a Trump vaccine. I think the remarks Kamala Harris made around this time have been spun in a way that’s unfair to her (she said she’d take any vaccine Dr. Fauci recommends, just not one that only Trump was touting), but Andrew Cuomo promising a separate New York State review and saying he’s “not that confident” in the FDA really crossed the line.

I do think the highly educated liberals who are the biggest vaccine enthusiasts today would still be vaccine enthusiasts, Cuomo’s posturing aside, mostly because we know these vaccines were swiftly approved by the European Medicines Agency, Health Canada, and other international regulators. That’s not the kind of thing MAGA people care about, but the most paranoid Trump-haters in the world love a good global consensus and would have been very reassured by Justin Trudeau and Angela Merkel vouching for the vaccine. Indeed, the partisan gap in vaccine acceptance was already visible in September 2020, so I think vax-loving libs would have loved the Trump vaccine.

That said, I do think Black vaccine-skeptical celebrities like Nicki Minaj and Bradley Beal would have been more vocal (and sooner) if we were talking about a Trump vaccine. This particular corner of elite discourse largely stayed quiet until Biden started pushing to make vaccines mandatory, but I think this would have come sooner with Trump as a foil.

And while second-term President Trump could not wave a magic wand and make conservative vaccine skepticism vanish, I do think Fox News would be publicly very pro-vax (we know Rupert Murdoch’s UK properties are), and Republican elected officials would be more uniformly supportive in their comments.

I think that dynamic would have somewhat muted the partisan nature of the vaccine divide, with somewhat more Republicans getting the shot offset by somewhat fewer Democrats. I think blue state vaccine mandates would have been seen as politically riskier — potentially anti-Black measures rather than ways of owning the Trumpers. On net, I’m not sure if this makes vaccination rates higher or lower, though it would probably be a somewhat less polarized issue.

The scissors
The moral of these stories, to me, is that the scissor is not Covid but Trump. His instinct for amping up polarization sometimes serves him well politically, but in the spring of 2020, it served him disastrously.

As a defeated former president, his decision to largely stay silent about vaccination (backing down immediately at the first sign of backlash from his base) while Fox News pumps out anti-vax propaganda is probably serving him well. Doing the right thing for the country and for his supporters’ own lives would divide his base of support and make Joe Biden look good by curbing the pandemic more rapidly. Playing Donald Scissorhands, in this case, is smart; it just happens to be getting people killed. But that’s not the kind of thing Trump cares about.


If they’re going to keep passing religious laws, we’re going to need exemptions

If they’re going to keep passing religious laws, we’re going to need exemptions

Opinion by 
Contributing columnist
Today at 3:59 p.m. EDT

Religious exemptions make no sense to me.


These escape clauses from our civic compact allow people to claim that such-and-such a law does not apply to them since it conflicts with their “sincerely held religious belief.”


A person can claim a religious exemption to the equal opportunity clause that’s required in all federal contracts; to the contraceptive coverage mandate of the Affordable Care Act; and, in some states, to the requirement that a child be immunized to attend public school.


This seems crazy. Obviously not everyone agrees with every law, but that’s the bummer about living in a society. In a democracy, if you feel strongly enough, you can set about finding like-minded people and try to change the law. Or, if that doesn’t work, and you truly believe it’s a sin to, say, fill contraceptive prescriptions, then (a) don’t be a pharmacist or (b) risk getting fired. Wouldn’t God appreciate the gesture?


Story continues below advertisement

If your religion won’t let you get vaccinated against the coronavirus, then don’t get the shot, but be prepared to suffer the consequences.


If your God-given anti-mask beliefs are sincerely held, then they’ll carry you through trying moments such as homeschooling your child and driving from Miami to Houston instead of flying. Martyrdom is supposed to be hard!


But ever since the Texas abortion ban went into effect, I’ve been rethinking exemptions. Maybe we actually need more of them.


If religious people can opt out of secular laws they find sinful, then maybe the rest of us should be able to opt out of religious laws we find immoral.


That’s right: immoral. We act as if religious people are the only ones who follow a moral compass and the rest of us just wander around like sheep in search of avocado toast. But you don’t need to believe in God or particular religious tenets to have a strong sense of right and wrong.


Story continues below advertisement

I am not a believer, but I have beliefs. Strong, sincerely held beliefs. Such as: A seven-week-old embryo — which is a week too old to abort according to the Texas law — is not a person. It’s the blueberry-sized potential for a person.


There is no moral component to aborting a seven-week-old embryo. None. But it is immoral to force people to bear children they do not want to have.


I realize that not all Texans would agree with me. But most Texans don’t agree with this law either. A majority even of pro-life Texans think that abortion should be permitted in the case of rape or incest, which the new law does not allow.


Shouldn’t there be some sort of exemption from that law?


Story continues below advertisement

Around the country, people are claiming religious exemptions from mandates that they be vaccinated. They want to opt out of laws that seek to protect their health and that of their neighbors.


Surely people should be able to opt out of a law that forces them to risk their health.


Let’s call it an un-religious exemption. Or no — since there are plenty of religious folk who object to the Texas law — let’s call it a rational exemption.


Rational exemptions could be used for religion-based laws with which people strongly, sincerely disagree. For example, a law that values the life of a quarter-inch embryo more than the life of a person carrying that embryo.


Story continues below advertisement

That’s clearly a religious law. It’s not based in science or public health or the Constitution or biological reality. It’s based on the idea that, as Gov. Greg Abbott (R) said on signing the bill, “Our Creator endowed us with the right to life.”


Religious laws are a part of our history, ranging in character from inconvenient (“blue” or “Sunday” laws) to unconscionable (laws banning interracial and same-sex marriage). But they are not a thing of the past. In fact, they seem to be enjoying a resurgence. There are laws that discriminate against trans people. Laws that permit or require schools to teach creationism along with evolution. Laws that require schools to teach abstinence but not contraception.


Such laws try to force 21st-century America into alignment with a first-century moral code according to some toxic combination of political posturing, fear-mongering and — sure, why not? — the sincere beliefs of a certain subset of people who adhere to a certain religion.


Story continues below advertisement

If they’re going to be making these laws, and the Supreme Court is going to let them, then the rest of us should be able to opt out.


In Louisiana, the attorney general helpfully offered language to parents in his department who object to school mask mandates: “I do not consent to forcing a face covering on my child, who is created in the image of God. Masks lead to antisocial behaviors, interfere with religious commands to share God’s love with others, and interfere with relationships in contravention of the Bible.”


For a rational exemption to the Texas law, may I suggest, “I do not consent to bearing a child I do not wish to have. Pregnancy and childbirth lead to assorted health issues up to and including death, and bearing a child interferes with my right to live my life and use my body as I wish, in contravention of both reason and morality.”


At least mine makes sense.


Kyrsten Sinema’s latest moves pose a dire threat to Biden’s agenda

Kyrsten Sinema’s latest moves pose a dire threat to Biden’s agenda

Opinion by 
Columnist
Today at 11:22 a.m. EDT

Call it Beltway brain lock at its worst. Again and again, we keep hearing the same storyline: In the battle over President Biden’s agenda, progressives are demanding all or nothing.


According to this tale, House Democrats threatening to vote down the $1 trillion bipartisan infrastructure bill are holding it “hostage” as leverage to get everything they want from the much bigger social policy bill. Why won’t progressives take 70 percent?


This story line is nonsense. And it has apparently fallen to none other than Sen. Kyrsten Sinema (D-Ariz.), a determined holdout against the multitrillion-dollar social policy bill, to expose it as the sham it truly is.


Story continues below advertisement

Democratic leaders are negotiating with Sinema to win her support for a broad framework on the bigger bill, which would pass by the simple-majority reconciliation process. If she and Sen. Joe Manchin III (D-W.Va.) publicly commit to an ambitious reconciliation measure, House progressives might help pass the smaller bill when it gets a vote on Thursday.


Progressives are temporarily withholding support because they fear that if infrastructure passes now, Sinema, Manchin and some House centrists might never support a good reconciliation bill, blowing up the centerpiece of the Democratic Party’s agenda for securing our future.


Now Politico reports that Sinema is refusing to say what she can commit to on reconciliation, and worse, that she may not do so until the infrastructure bill is passed:


Story continues below advertisement

During a private meeting with the president, Sinema made clear she’s still not on board with the party’s $3.5 trillion social spending plan and is hesitant to engage on some specifics until the bipartisan infrastructure package passes the House, according to a person who spoke with her.

“This is the third time she said she has told the president, ‘I’m not there,’” the person said, quoting Sinema as telling the president: “‘I’ve been very clear with you from the start.’”

Sinema opposes the bill’s overall spending level but won’t say what she would support. She also appears to oppose various provisions taxing the rich and corporations, though reporting has been murky on this. (Her office is not commenting directly on the report.)


But the key point here is her apparent refusal to say what she’s for in the reconciliation bill.


First off, this confirms that progressives are right to worry that if Democrats pass the infrastructure bill first, there’s no telling whether Sinema (or Manchin and other centrists) will be there to support something substantial in reconciliation. Sinema not only won’t say what she wants; she apparently doesn’t want to have to specify it at all until the smaller bill passes.


Story continues below advertisement

Second, note that when progressives ask Sinema to say what she wants, they are in effect asking what she wants in concessions from them. Yet Sinema won’t specify this. It’s almost an insistence that the infrastructure bill must pass entirely on her terms. That seems almost designed to prevent any kind of accommodation, a level of bad faith that’s genuinely hard to fathom.


Importantly, all this also demonstrates that progressives are not insisting on an all or nothing approach. They are asking Sinema to tell them what she wants them to sacrifice to get her to support a reconciliation bill. And she won’t.


What progressives are really demanding

It’s true that progressives are drawing a hard line, but it’s on process. They are insisting Democrats must stick to the original two-track plan — in which both bills get passed together, so each side exercises leverage on the other — rather than letting the infrastructure bill pass right now.


Story continues below advertisement

But let’s set the record straight here. It’s sometimes suggested this means progressives are refusing to make concessions. That’s nonsense. They already came way down from their original hopes for the reconciliation bill. And even if this two-track is adhered to, progressives will still have to accept concessions to get centrists to agree to support the reconciliation bill.


Some have argued that the progressive strategy is misguided, that centrists like Sinema don’t actually feel pressure to make concessions on reconciliation when progressives threaten to oppose the infrastructure bill.


That’s clearly dubious — this is obviously ratcheting up pressure on Sinema, who is again meeting with the White House Wednesday, plainly fearing being blamed for tanking Biden’s agenda. But regardless, even if you think the progressive approach won’t work, it’s just empirically, verifiably the case that the progressive position isn’t “all or nothing.”


Bipartisan theater

Which brings us to the final point: The demand for an immediate infrastructure vote, before a broader deal on reconciliation is reached, does not have to be happening at all.


Story continues below advertisement

The reconciliation bill comprises the heart of the Biden and Democratic Party agenda. The infrastructure bill has plenty of good things in it — including when it comes to combating climate change.


But the reconciliation measure is the one with the truly transformative policies when it comes to securing a decarbonized future and comprehensively rebalancing our political economy after it has been skewed to channel wealth, income and rents to the top for decades.


In that context, the infrastructure bill is essentially bipartisan theater, the opening act for the main event. By arbitrarily insisting that this must pass before any agreement is made on the heart of the Biden and Democratic Party agenda, Sinema reveals herself as a leading threat to it.


Dear Alabama: You can have our money, but how about a ‘thank you’?

Dear Alabama: You can have our money, but how about a ‘thank you’?

Opinion by 
Columnist
Today at 4:18 p.m. EDT

The headline seems sure to make big-city liberals mad: “Alabama governor defends plan to use covid relief funds to build new prisons.”


A displeased Rep. Jerrold Nadler (D-N.Y.), the chairman of the House Judiciary Committee, has asked the Treasury Department to step in. “Directing funding meant to protect our citizens from a pandemic to fuel mass incarceration is in direct contravention of the intended purposes” of those funds, he wrote in a letter.


The truth is that’s not entirely clear; there’s a reasonable case to be made on both sides of the question of whether Alabama would be inappropriately using these covid-19 relief funds, as I’ll explain below. But more interesting is how Alabama Republicans are talking about the controversy.


Story continues below advertisement

Gov. Kay Ivey (R), for instance, insisted using these funds to address the state’s dilapidated prisons is an “Alabama solution to this Alabama problem.” And here’s another response from one of Alabama’s Republican state senators:


“I really couldn’t care less about the opinion of Washington liberals,” Alabama state Sen. Greg Reed (R) wrote on Twitter. “We aren’t going to let a New York City politician tell Alabama what we can and cannot do. These funds are intended to replace revenue lost as a result of the pandemic, and are clearly eligible for prison construction.”

So the “Alabama solution to this Alabama problem” is to take money from the federal government, then whine about the “Washington liberals” who gave Alabama that money.


The money in question comes from the American Rescue Plan, which was passed in early 2021. Alabama’s two Republican senators and six Republican House members all voted against the ARP, which got zero Republican votes in both houses.


And as for New York City politicians, are they the last ones who should be telling Alabama what it should do with federal money? Well, consider that a lot of that money came from New York. According to Rockefeller Institute data, in 2019 New York received 91 cents in federal spending for every dollar of tax revenue it sent to Washington — the lowest of any state. Alabama got $1.92 in spending for every dollar of tax revenue it sent, putting it in the top 10 “taker” states.


Story continues below advertisement

On a per capita basis, New Yorkers paid almost twice as much in taxes as Alabamians. Nadler’s district, which includes the Upper West Side and the Financial District, is responsible for no small part of that revenue.


That shouldn’t give those New Yorkers any greater say than any other Americans over how federal money is spent; we don’t apportion power in Congress by tax revenue (instead, we do it by giving rural states disproportionate influence). But it’s a little rich to hear Republicans from Alabama demand funds they would never have gotten if they had their way then get angry when the way they’re going to spend the money is questioned.


All that said, there’s a genuine question as to whether the prison spending would be allowed under the ARP. On one hand, this Treasury rule indicates that states “have broad latitude to choose whether and how to use" funds "to respond to and address the negative economic impact” of the pandemic. But it also explains that the spending must have at least some relationship to what happened because of the coronavirus or how a state might be better prepared in the future.


Story continues below advertisement

So perhaps Alabama would be justified in using relief funds to fix its rundown prisons so they don’t become vectors of disease, while building new prisons might be a different story, if the only purpose is so the state can lock up more people. But it doesn’t seem as though it will be hard for Alabama to make the case that new prison construction will fall under the many allowable uses.


It’s important to remember that the Democrats who passed the ARP wanted to give states plenty of flexibility. Money was given to states and localities that was supposed to be specifically targeted to address pandemic-related public health needs, but the pandemic also threatened a fiscal crisis for states, and the federal government wanted to address it.


That’s because nearly every state has a requirement in their constitutions saying they have to balance their budgets every year. When a recession hits — or a pandemic shutdown — they face a possible budgetary spiral. The shrinking state economy means less revenue, which means states have to raise taxes (a problem in bad economic times) or cut services. Part of the goal was to provide money to avoid that spiral, even if its uses had only a tangential relationship to public health.


So go ahead and use the money to fix the prison system if that’s the choice state legislators make, Alabama. But maybe while they’re at it, they should say “Thank you” to the rest of us.


Airbnb is good, actually

Airbnb is good, actually

Make tourists pay taxes, but don't try to stop them from coming


Matthew Yglesias

Wed, 29 Sept, 19:01 (19 hours ago)

Comment

Share

Over 25 paragraphs into a long New York Times story on Barcelona’s efforts to severely curtail Airbnb rentals (efforts the article describes as “one of the few effective tools that [Barcelona] can deploy to rein in excessive tourism and address the city’s housing problems”), we finally hear from Airbnb’s competition, the hotel industry:


Manel Casals, the general manager of Barcelona’s hotel association, welcomed the ban, saying that Airbnb is “a concern for cities everywhere” because it deprives local governments of taxes, disrupts residential areas, and fails to ensure adequate health and safety standards for guests. “It will help Barcelona to prohibit this,” he said, adding that the city’s hotels don’t consider Airbnb a competitor as they serve a different customer base.


They’re happy to make the competition illegal, but of course, they don’t compete!



(Filip Radwanski/SOPA Images/LightRocket via Getty Images)

I’m known as a market urbanist, pro-innovation kind of person who’d be disinclined to support a ban on Airbnb. So years ago, the company tried to pitch me stories about how it’s not actually true that Airbnb raises rents when it enters a city. I had to tell them thanks but no thanks. I may find it annoying when leftists deny that supply is relevant to housing prices except when the subject is Airbnb, but I’m not going to do an equal and opposite hypocrisy. It’s probably silly to assume one-to-one displacement of long-term rentals by short-term Airbnbs, but it would be crazy to assume zero displacements.


The Barcelona story illustrates the three main sources of tension around Airbnb:


Hotel owners (and hotel worker unions, where applicable) don’t like Airbnb for protectionist reasons.


Airbnb makes long-term renters compete with short-term renters and probably drives up rent.


And, in the case of Barcelona, “excessive tourism.”


Excessive tourism was a hot topic before the pandemic (usually under the name “overtourism”), but I don’t see any serious case that tourism is bad for a city. More tourists mean more jobs, higher incomes, and more tax revenue. Now what’s true is that if your tourists are all bidding up the price of housing (via Airbnb), the tourists could be displacing residents. And that’s bad.


But if you think of Airbnb specifically as part of the overall urban housing policy challenge, then I think you start to clearly see your way to solutions.


Airbnb exacerbates housing scarcity

This paper on Airbnb by David Wachsmuth and Alexander Weisler relies heavily on the concept of the “rent gap,” which I think is mostly nonsense and has induced incredible confusion in left-wing urban planning circles.


Nonetheless, they helpfully document the qualitative fact that Airbnb’s entrance into New York City was significant in magnitude, especially in Manhattan and Brooklyn.



I frankly don’t need a lot of convincing that when you start removing units from the rental market, you end up with higher prices. But a couple of careful empirical papers suggest that this is, in fact, what happens.


Keren Horn and Mark Merante studying Boston find that “a one standard deviation increase in Airbnb listings is associated with an increase in asking rents of 0.4%.”


Kyle Barron, Edward Kung, and Davide Proserpio looking at a national sample across the U.S. “find that a 1% increase in Airbnb listings leads to a 0.018% increase in rents and a 0.026% increase in house prices.”


Supply and demand: it’s a thing.


Conversely, Chiara Farronato and Andrey Fradkin find that Airbnb reduces hotel rates by introducing competition into the hotel market. Again, supply and demand.


Let’s say some nice things about Airbnb

To put my cards on the table, I think Airbnb is pretty great.


I own a rowhouse in D.C. that has a main unit above and a basement apartment below. For years, we maintained the basement apartment primarily as an Airbnb rental but secondarily as a guest suite for when grandparents wanted to come visit their darling grandson or the occasional visits by friends from New York who deigned to make it down here. That’s a really good deal for city-dwellers. It’s nice to have guest accommodations, but it’s also inherently pretty wasteful, and in an urban environment, wasting living space can be very costly. Maintaining a mini-hotel that generates income when it’s not being used by personal guests is pretty great. (The basement is now Slow Boring World HQ.)


Airbnb is also good if you’re traveling. Pre-Covid, we used Airbnb to take our kid with us on trips to Dublin and Madrid. With an Airbnb, you don’t get the level of service that you’d get from a hotel, but you do get kid-friendly features like a fridge and a laundry machine. You can stockpile and cook favorite foods rather than rely constantly on eating out. And some Airbnb hosts go out of their way to create kid-friendly offerings with toys and such.


It’s a great deal for family travel because while hotels of course accommodate all kinds of guests, the dominant business model for hotels is renting to business travelers. And a lot of the time, a city’s hotels will all be in the central business district or at some highway interchange, while the most interesting place to stay for a non-business traveler could be a residential neighborhood with good restaurants. In my Airbnb host days, we frequently had customers who were ex-D.C. people back in town to visit friends, and they wanted to revisit U Street and Shaw rather than stay downtown. We also sometimes got multi-week stays from people who were moving to D.C. and wanted a place to crash while seeking a more permanent apartment — again, the location in a real neighborhood was a plus.


Are tourists bad?

When I lived in New York, I often had occasion to see tourists and think to myself, “ugh, tourists.” The tourists who’d visit the Harvard campus were, if anything, worse and even more annoying. And D.C. tourists are in some ways the most annoying of all, because it’s often school groups or tacky people into patriotic stuff. And of course, when Trump was president, we got MAGA Tourists, and that was really off the rails.


But aesthetics aside, are tourists bad?


Of course, there are whole cities like Orlando (or even countries like the Bahamas) where tourism is the main export industry. I think we see pretty clearly that a tourism-based economy is not an optimal path to prosperity since tourism-related jobs tend to be relatively low wage. But at the same time, it strains credulity to suggest that tourism-dependent places would actually be better off with less tourism. What they need to do is leverage tourism into the development of higher value industries over time. But the tourism itself is good.


What about in larger, more diverse cities? It seems to me that tourism and amenities for residents are pretty complementary. The last time I was in London, I went to the theater, which I think is something a lot of people do when visiting London or New York. But it would be wrong to think of the tourists as crowding out locals at the theater. On the contrary, the existence of a robust tourist market simply deepens the local theater scene, something local people can take advantage of.


And that’s the general pattern: tourists mostly do stuff (go to museums, go out to dinner, check out a live event) that residents also do. The rotating exhibits at places like the National Gallery of Art can’t really be aimed at tourists, but the existence of tourists visiting the National Gallery helps support the rotating exhibitions. Usually, by the time a restaurant becomes sufficiently well known to attract a large tourist client base, it’s past its prime — but tourism still spurs more restaurant openings than you’d otherwise have.


And of course, tourists pay taxes. Some of those are special hotel and car rental taxes, but a lot of them are city taxes on retail purchases and restaurant meals. The best kind of tax revenue a city can get is taxes that are paid by someone other than the people who live there.


Housing supply shouldn’t be fixed

I’m now going to offer my boring solution to the very real problem of housing scarcity — build more!


Every city in which people are worried about Airbnb’s impact on housing supply also has tons of rules designed to constrain the addition of new housing units. But if an influx of Airbnb demand meant a construction boom, that would be great news for jobs and growth and all kinds of other good things. The “problem” with Airbnb is really just the fact that when you constrain the housing supply, anything can be bad. A company opening a new headquarters with tons of high-paying jobs could be bad. A new metro line opening could be bad. An improvement in the quality of the local schools or a decline in local crime could be bad. It doesn’t make sense for us to be living our lives terrified of an increase in housing demand.


And that’s true whether it’s demand for owner-occupied housing, long-term rental housing, or short-term rental housing.


By the same token, one reason Airbnb exploded so vibrantly when it came onto the scene is that a lot of cities underbuild hotels. New York City recently enacted tough new rules to make it nearly impossible to add new ones, which is some kind of bank-shot effort to help unions. But people being able to visit your city is good.


Taxes are your friend

Part of why banning new hotel construction is so nutty is that normally, hotel rooms are a big source of tax revenue. Indeed, even while NYC was cracking down on new hotel construction, they temporarily suspended the city’s hotel tax this summer because they wanted to revive tourism. As of September, it’s back in effect.


And almost every time I hear a legitimate sounding concern about Airbnb in particular or “overtourism” in general, I feel like what I’m actually hearing is a story of under-taxation.


For starters, in some instances, Airbnb has tried to run a tax arbitrage where you undercut hotels because you’re not paying hotel tax. Obviously, you shouldn’t let that happen. And if tourists to your city are somehow overburdening the existing infrastructure, that means you’re not taxing them heavily enough. Tax more and you’ll have fewer people and also more revenue to address your infrastructure needs.


But even if you’re not talking about a hard infrastructure constraint and are just dealing with people’s annoyance at tourists, you’re almost always better off throttling demand with higher taxes than restricting quantities. Restricting quantities of available accommodations creates windfall gains for hotel owners, which is why the Barcelona hotel people are so excited about banning Airbnb. If you let quantities be theoretically unlimited but charge high taxes instead, then you have revenue you can spend on schools, public safety, parks, or whatever else people like.



Comment

Share

This post is only for paying subscribers of Slow Boring .


Like & Comment


© 2021 Matthew Yglesias Unsubscribe


The Cure for Trumpism? Put Good Republicans Back in Charge!

The Cure for Trumpism? Put Good Republicans Back in Charge!

And if you believe that, I've got a bridge in Brooklyn you might be interested in


Claire Potter

September 27, 2021


Comment

Share

Today is part two of my response to Robert Kagan’s influential op-ed on the imminent of Trumpism to our democracy. You can read part 1, published on Monday, here.


Just a reminder: this week I inaugurate paid-subscriber-only Fridays. If you are already a paying subscriber, you are in luck! If you want to try out paid content, convert to the $5/month option and cancel if it’s not worth it. If you are a free subscriber, and would prefer getting fewer posts per week—your wish has been granted.


And, as always, if you have an interested friend, please:


Share Political Junkie



MAGA faithful at a Trump rally in Merrimack, New Hampshire, on August 15, 2019. Photo credit: Marck Nozell/Wikimedia Commons

Robert Kagan’s widely-read Washington Post essay (September 23, 2021) about the ongling dangers of Trumpism rests on three critical premises: that Donald Trump himself poses a danger to constitutional government that is unique in American history; that the Founders could not have anticipated political parties or the stress they would cause to a democratic system, and thus left us defenseless against Donald J. Trump’s demagoguery; and that Trump himself is a unique phenomenon in American history. As I argued in my last post, these are fallacies.


What is most troubling about Kagan’s essay, however, is that he offers no explanation, and no apology, for why his party collapsed like the Maginot Line after Trump was elected in 2016. Instead, even as he admits later in the essay that there were plenty of rewards for party leaders to knuckle under to Trump, Kagan portrays their failure to stand up to him as a reasonable set of choices that any party leaders, anywhere, might have made in the face of an ignorant, mendacious lout. As he writes:


Despite their known abhorrence of everything Trump stood for, these old lions refused to criticize him. They were unwilling to come out against a Republican Party to which they had devoted their professional lives, even when the party was led by someone they detested. Whatever they thought about Trump, moreover, Republican elders disliked Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama and the Democrats more. Again, this is not so unusual.


But they didn’t have to “come out against a Republican Party to which they devoted their professional lives.” All they had to do was come out against Trump, and they didn’t. Why?


Yes, there were the courts, and a variety of conservative goals that could be accomplished specifically through an executive who had no idea what he was doing. But why did they not see the dangers the rest of us did in the massive social movement that delighted in lies, mendacity, and fantasies about beating, jailing, and executing their opponents?


What Kagan never says, but I suspect probably knows, is that Republican leaders thought these people were a joke. The Tea Party, after all, had quickly evolved into a political movement with electoral goals and an Astroturf strategy.


Subscribe now


Furthermore, the “old lions” had contempt for Trump and his voters. They believed that they could control all of these ignorant people, from the Big Guy down, taking what they wanted and leaving the rest. They thought they could simply accomodate Trumpism and do business as usual—which in part, Kagan points out they did.


But Kagan’s analogy, again, makes this seem like a reasonable miscalculation made by reasonable people. “German conservatives accommodated Adolf Hitler in large part because they opposed the socialists more than they opposed the Nazis,” he writes, “who, after all, shared many of their basic prejudices.”


For example, against Jews. Who could have known what Hitler really had in mind, right? Stopping socialism was the project! And it worked! Until it didn’t!


Yet the analogy is disingenuous: Republicans actually know that there is no real socialism in America, and that defeating the Democrats is not the same as beating back the specter of Bolshevick revolution. They also know that their own party has manufactured and recirculated that fear for generations to bring conservatives to the polls. Mainstream elements of the GOP have been using the words “socialism” and “Communism” since the New Deal to describe everything from unemployment insurance to desegregation to gay marriage to taxes.


Kagan’s analogy is simply wrong. What was actually astounding about the swift collapse of conservative politicians to Trumpism is how few values Trump and his new party shared: traditional Republicans are all about big business, have a recent history of brokering immigration deals that support global corporate profits, and are enthusiastic interventionists when it comes to foreign policy.


Trump ran against all of these things.


Kagan fails to account for what, exactly, allowed the “good Germans” in his party to get behind this madman once he was elected, except this: “Trump is different, which is one reason the political system has struggled to understand, much less contain, him.”


Share


But that’s not true: what Kagan means is not that Trump is different, but that he is worse, and has taken Republican party tendencies to an extreme that no one had discussed yet. For decades, Republicans have nurtured populist voters, if not populism itself, within their own party without actually doing anything that improved those voters lives. Kagan deliberately minimizes the economic harms of the policies Republican policy-makers—flat wages, outsourced jobs, austerity, union-busting and, most importantly, the deregulated capitalism that has mired ordinary Americans in debt.


In other words, policies that Kagan himself has championed since he entered political life in 1980. In 2008, these policies broke millions of American households in 2008, stealing homes, pensions, and jobs, and creating a sea of outrage with no outlet in traditional politics.


But Kagan brushes off any attempt to explain Trumpism as a phenomenon that could be explained in this way. Instead, he writes:


The American liberal worldview tends to search for material and economic explanations for everything,” he writes, “and no doubt a good number of Trump supporters have grounds to complain about their lot in life. But their bond with Trump has little to do with economics or other material concerns. They believe the U.S. government and society have been captured by socialists, minority groups and sexual deviants.


Why did Trumpists believe their government has been captured by their enemies? Kagan is fuzzy on this point—but I am not. The Republican party has been winning elections for decades by mobilizing hatred, fear, culture wars and outright racism, and the chickens finally came home to roost when it became possible to organize ruined, angry people on the internet. (Sidebar: what kind of a person wants to make common cause with Democrats by using the phrase “sexual deviants” to describe LGBT people in a national publication?


But Kagan insists that Trump, and only Trump, is the problem.“Unlike establishment Republicans,” Kagan continues, “Trump speaks without embarrassment on behalf of an aggrieved segment of Americans, not exclusively White, who feel they have been taking it on the chin for too long. And that is all he needs to do.” Yet it seems never to have occurred to Kagan, that if the Republican party had been willing to do the same thing, or had worked with Democrats to pass legislation to support struggling Americans in the years after 2008, that the Trump movement might have been defanged.


Subscribe now


In fact, what held Trumpism together was a widespread hatred, not just of Democrats, but of establishment Republicans like Robert Kagan. As Ryan Girdusky and Harlan Hill, both proponents of the national populism that cohered under Trump, explained in 2020, write critics of illiberal democratic movements around the globe, fail to understand that this “political uprising didn’t need to happen. The rise of Trumpism and its counterparts around the world


occurred because of the actions of the governing class, not despite their efforts. The elite had countless opportunities over the last three decades to signal to voters that they were listening to their concerns, that the current system could work towards their best interests, and that the global liberal agenda was worth protecting….Through the latter half of the 20th century, governments around the globe have pushed forward their ideology that people, cultures, and countries are interchangeable and replaceable.


Kagan’s failure to understand that Trumpism is a movement, and not a mass delusion, also blinds him as to why his beloved GOP has become, in his own words, a “zombie” party. “While the defeat of a sitting president normally leads to a struggle to claim the party’s mantle,” Kagan writes, “So far no Republican has been able to challenge Trump’s grip on Republican voters: not Sen. Josh Hawley, not Sen. Tom Cotton, not Tucker Carlson, not Gov. Ron DeSantis.”


But anyone who knows anything about zombies knows that they perpetuate their dominance, not by being unique, but by the endless replication of zombies. And that’s what Hawley, Cotton, Carlson and DeSantis are. Zombie Trumps in a zombie party, trying to recreate the magic that propelled Donald J. Trump to the presidency.


Although Kagan rightly catalogues the errors, “miscalculations,” and sheer venality that the Republican party was responsible for between 2016 and January 20, 2021, he continues to insist that it is only Trump who is dangerous—and that the voters that DeSantis, Abbott et. al. are now trying to woo would be just as happy to come back to a pre-Trump GOP. “Most Trump supporters are good parents, good neighbors and solid members of their communities,” writes, even though the research shows that vast numbers of these people have abandoned their friends and families to immerse themselves in MAGA conspircism. As he continues:


Their bigotry, for the most part, is typical white American bigotry (emphasis mine),” as Kagan glosses it, “perhaps with an added measure of resentment and a less filtered mode of expression since Trump arrived on the scene. But these are normal people in the sense that they think and act as people have for centuries. They put their trust in family, tribe, religion and race.


So what is the antidote? Put the “old lions,” who created this mess in the first place, back in charge. “It has become fashionable to write off any possibility that a handful of Republicans might rise up to save the day,” Kagan writes. “Yet, it is largely upon these Republicans that the fate of the republic rests.”


Share


This handful—and I am guessing that Mitt Romney and Liz Cheney are the standard bearers here—would form a Constitutional Republican caucus or party, which would be part of “a national unity coalition in the Senate for the sole purpose of saving the republic. Their cooperation with Democrats could be strictly limited to matters relating to the Constitution and elections.” Or they might cooperate on a range of issues—who knows?—but I am guessing not Medicare for all, universal childcare, or paid family leave.


And what might put a rod in some of these Republican spines? Democrats giving up their foolish ambitions about social change and returning to Clinton-style centrism. They could water down voting rights, reduce social spending, stop trying to interfere with the police, and abandon their own robust and well organized progressive caucus that has successfully pushed for social justice.


To do otherwise, Kagan argues is to use Trump as a cudgel to portray Reagan-era conservatism, and everythiing it spawned under three Bush administrations, as the problem. Forcing teh GOP to be accountable for what it has done, he implies, is “opportunistic partisanship and conspiracy-mongering, [which] in addition to being bad history, is no cure for what ails the nation.” Instead, Instead, Democrats, Kagan urges, need to back off of their own idea of what democracy looks like “to give anti-Trump Republicans a chance to do the right thing.”


Now who is using Trump as a cudgel? Democrats, stand firm—and trust your own voters. They had their chance and they blew it.


Leave a comment


Short takes:


It’s not that I begrudge them the money. Still, the next time you hear a Republican use the words “freedom” and “taxes” in the same sentence, throw this piece of spaghetti at them and see if it sticks: Audrey Dutton of the Idaho Capital Sun reports that $1.9 million of FEMA money has been applied for, and granted, to pay for Covid-19 victims’ funerals. That’s right: freedom to remain unvaccinated, freedom to not pay your Bureau of Land Management grazing fees—but call on the federal government to bury people who didn’t have to die. Across the nation, “The agency has provided more than $1.1 billion in financial assistance to nearly 170,000 people to help cover funeral costs for people who died of causes related to COVID-19 since Jan. 20, 2020.” (September 27, 2021)


Breaking: a public official in an ugly suit bashes medical marijuana legislation: if for nothing else, you have got to click through to see the outfit Mississippi Agriculture Commissioner Andy Gipson is wearing in the photograph. Yes, even by Deep South standards, this is an ugly suit. More seriously, Gipson shows that he has no idea how government works. His department is not prepared to administer such a program and he, personally, is morally agin’ it. But other states are reaping millions in tax revenue from a substance that helps many people not use prescription narcotics—part of what you use that money for, commissioner, is to administer the program. (Geoffrey Pender, Mississippi Today, September 27, 2021)


Why does anything a corporation does surprise me? Yet, I found myself unexpectedly disappointed and sad to learn that Liberty Mutual Insurance which underwrites my homeowner’s policy, is the top sponsor of Fox News and the lying liars who work there. As Judd Legum of Popular Information reports, “The company is advertising extensively on Fox News — a network dominated by Tucker Carlson — while claiming on its corporate website to be a champion of diversity.” But you can’t be for diversity and fund Tucker Carlson’s racist b*llsh*t. So unless they pull their dollars, I will find another insurer when my policy comes up for renewal. (September 27, 2021)



In reconciliation debate, will the Democrats’ left wing ultimately fight or fold?

In reconciliation debate, will the Democrats’ left wing ultimately fight or fold?

Opinion by 
Columnist
Today at 3:45 p.m. EDT

Employing a high-risk, high-reward strategy, the most progressive Democrats in the House are trying to aggressively assert their power this week. The reward would be both advancing their policy goals and demonstrating that they have real clout. The risk is that they’ll be defeated in a way that validates the nagging critique that their outsize influence on Twitter and in left-wing circles rarely translates into victory at the ballot box or on Capitol Hill.


It’s a gamble they’re right to take.


The complicated back and forth underway around President Biden’s agenda basically comes down to this: Biden and Democratic leaders for months have been pushing two bills at once — an infrastructure bill that has the support of some Republican senators, pleasing more conservative Democrats such as Sen. Joe Manchin III (W.Va.), and a bill full of progressive policy priorities that Democrats would have to pass on a party-line vote through the filibuster-proof reconciliation process. The Senate has already approved the infrastructure bill, and the more conservative Democrats want Democrats to quickly pass it in the House so Biden can sign it into law. But progressives say that would threaten their policy goals by breaking with the two-bills strategy — once more conservative Democrats get the infrastructure bill through, they will either insist the reconciliation bill be shrunken dramatically or even withhold their support altogether.


Story continues below advertisement

Bowing to pressure from her right flank, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) this week scheduled a vote on the infrastructure bill. But at least 25 progressive members of the House, led by Rep. Pramila Jayapal (D-Wash.), chair of the Congressional Progressive Caucus, have said they won’t vote for it unless Democrats have at least reached an informal deal on reconciliation. (That 25 is according to a whip count as of Wednesday afternoon by the American Prospect, the Daily Poster and the Intercept, three progressive publications.) Democrats have a tiny margin in the House, so 25 no votes would kill the infrastructure bill.


Because Biden supports the reconciliation bill, too, the progressives are making the somewhat complicated argument that they are trying to save his agenda by temporarily stalling it. But there are a lot of reasons why this strategy might fail.


More conservative Democrats might ultimately be fine with both bills dying, and this bloc of progressives might not have Biden in their corner (or at least not overtly against them) for much longer. With his poll numbers sagging, the president could lean hard on Democrats to push through the infrastructure bill in an effort to get something done — no matter the fate of the other one. That would severely weaken the progressives’ position. It is likely the infrastructure bill is popular in their districts, and bucking the incumbent president from their party would be unpopular back home.


Story continues below advertisement

It’s also possible that both sides back down — the more conservative Democrats make clear they will support a reconciliation bill that includes many of the progressives’ goals, and progressives vote for the infrastructure bill. But for now, more conservative Democrats like Manchin aren’t making such promises.


By taking such a high-profile stand, the progressives risk three outcomes that would make them look weak. They might ultimately stand down and vote for the infrastructure bill this week without getting firm promises on passage of the reconciliation bill. They might back the infrastructure bill in the weeks ahead if Biden demands it. Or they might back the infrastructure bill based on a deal with conservative Democrats that then falls through.


Nonetheless, they are right to wage this fight. Why?


Story continues below advertisement

Most important, because they are correct on the substance. Though improving America’s physical infrastructure is important, the big, game-changing policies in Biden’s agenda are in the reconciliation package, including major climate provisions, universal preschool, child tax credits and health-care expansions. Progressives are right to do everything possible to ensure that some of these policies are advanced, even if the process is messy.


Second, in electoral terms, the partisan package is full of ideas and policies that are memorable and exciting to voters in a way that improved roads will never be.


Finally, the progressives are politicians, and politics is about power. They need to show that they have some. The progressive wing of the Democratic Party has done a great job moving the party to the left rhetorically, but Biden is president, not Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders (I). Progressives have lost in high-profile Democratic primaries in 2021. And now, more conservative Democrats in Congress could end up getting their bill passed while the progressives’ goals are left behind.


Story continues below advertisement

In particular, this is a big fight for Congress’s most visible left-wing members. There are actually 95 House members in the Congressional Progressive Caucus, but this group of 25 is the most true-blue bloc of House Democrats. By contrast with House Democrats overall, these 25 are disproportionately under 50, non-White and fairly new to Congress. The group includes the original four-person “Squad,” plus other prominent left-wing members such as Missouri’s Cori Bush and California’s Katie Porter.


These members have gotten a lot of publicity. This week is a chance for them to show they have a lot of power, too.


Wednesday, September 29, 2021

How DeSantis and his GOP allies reveal their antiabortion hypocrisy

How DeSantis and his GOP allies reveal their antiabortion hypocrisy

Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis (R) at the Conservative Political Action Conference in Orlando on Feb. 28. (Joe Skipper/Reuters)

Opinion by 
Contributing columnist
Today at 2:20 p.m. EDT

To the surprise of no one in Florida, a Texas-style antiabortion bill landed in the Florida state legislature last week. The bill, like the Texas version, is designed to ban most abortions by inviting citizen-filed lawsuits against anyone who helps a woman undergo the procedure.


Florida joins at least a half-dozen other Republican-led states now considering their own versions of the law, which bars abortions around six weeks of pregnancy — before many women are aware that they’re pregnant.


What is striking about the Florida GOP’s latest attack on abortion rights — “fetal heartbeat” bills have been tried before — is how little interest these Republicans take in trying to prevent the unplanned pregnancies that lead to abortions.


Story continues below advertisement

Adoption, Republicans’ long-preferred solution, is wonderful. But relying on adoption is also profoundly unrealistic. Given the choice between terminating a pregnancy or going through almost 10 months of pregnancy and then giving up the child, women will typically choose the former. And, in any case, not enough people want to adopt. Florida is no exception.


Women could be spared the painful choice between terminating an unwanted pregnancy or surrendering their babies by making birth control more accessible and affordable, and by ensuring that young people are better-educated about sex and its possible repercussions.


So I was puzzled this summer when Florida’s Republican governor, Ron DeSantis, chose not to reduce abortions by making contraception more readily available in the state. DeSantis vetoed a bipartisan bill in June that would have provided $2 million to help low-income women gain access to long-acting reversible contraception, such as IUDs and hormonal implants. Those forms of contraception are considered especially effective because they are less vulnerable to human error.


Story continues below advertisement

The bill wasn’t much, but it was a start. The fact that it even reached DeSantis’s desk was a marvel, considering the conservative tilt of the state’s legislature.


DeSantis, who is staunchly pro-life, vetoed the bill weeks after receiving a letter from the Florida Conference of Catholic Bishops. The bishops object to the use of long-acting contraception, particularly hormonal IUDs, because they can prevent an embryo from implanting into a woman’s uterus so they deem them “abortifacients.”


Data shows that lower-income women and young women face more barriers to birth-control access. Low-income women also account for a larger share of abortions. Without insurance, some women can’t afford contraception or don’t have the money to visit doctors who must prescribe it or, in some cases, insert the device. Medicaid covers contraception, but not all low-income women are eligible. Florida, for example, chose not to expand Medicaid under the Affordable Care Act.


Story continues below advertisement

Even the president of the state Senate, Wilton Simpson, an ardent right-to-lifer who championed the contraception bill — but also called the U.S. Supreme Court’s refusal to block the Texas law “encouraging” — seemed surprised by the veto.


“I thought that would solve a lot of the abortion issues, probably eliminate thousands of abortions,” Simpson told WFLA. He blamed himself for not persuading DeSantis.


When urging his colleagues to support the bill, Simpson cited a well-known Colorado program funded through private donations that offered low-income women IUDs and implants. The initiative’s results were impressive: Between 2009 and 2014, teen births and abortions both declined by nearly half. Despite the program’s success, securing Colorado funding has been a struggle.


Story continues below advertisement

DeSantis also worked against reducing abortions in Florida this year by signing into law a bill that weakened an increasingly anemic sex education program in schools. Local school boards in Florida already have almost full control over how sex ed is taught in districts. The only state requirement is instruction on the benefits of abstinence. Now, under the new law, parents can choose to opt out of having their children receive any sex education at all.


Opponents to sex education argue that it is the job of parents to talk to their children about sex. But many don’t, or they do it reluctantly or sparingly, maybe even clumsily or misleadingly. (I know many mothers who have yet to talk to their children about online pornography, which is ubiquitous and has warped the sexual expectations of mostly young men and boys but also young women.)


But it is access to contraception that remains the simplest, most direct way of stopping unwanted pregnancies and reducing the abortion rate. Some Republicans recognize that more needs to be done, and a few have acted: 17 states, including Republican-led states such as Arizona and Arkansas, allow pharmacists to prescribe contraceptives.


As Simpson said about contraception, “it just gives these young women an opportunity to live a life that otherwise is not available to them.”


At least Simpson, unlike DeSantis and many of his Republican allies, is not a hypocrite. He understands that a crucial piece of the puzzle is not getting pregnant in the first place.


The only way Democrats can end gerrymandering? By gerrymandering themselves.

The only way Democrats can end gerrymandering? By gerrymandering themselves.

Opinion by 
Columnist
Yesterday at 4:05 p.m. EDT

“When they go low, we go high,” Michelle Obama famously said at the 2016 Democratic convention. In the view of many Democrats, that’s just the problem: Republicans are always willing to go low, but Democrats are hesitant, fearful, and too enamored of their own moral superiority to respond in kind.


The redistricting now taking place across the country could show what this posture produces in practice. So it may be time for those Democrats to say that despite their opposition to partisan gerrymandering — opposition both practical and principled — they ought to use the current round of redistricting to squeeze every last congressional seat they can out of places where they have control.


Would it be hypocritical? Sure. But the alternative is worse. Which leads to this ironic conclusion: If they want to have any hope of destroying the toxic force of gerrymandering in the future, Democrats have to engage in it in the present.


Story continues below advertisement

With Democrats controlling the House by just a few seats, it may be possible for Republicans to take back control in 2022 by means of gerrymandering alone, even if they don’t win the typical opposition party victory that characterizes most midterm elections. That’s because they control the process in many more states than Democrats do, including Texas, North Carolina, and Florida, which alone could be decisive.


But Democrats have a few opportunities. In New York the parties are battling over competing maps after the redistricting commission couldn’t agree on one; Democrats could wind up with an extra seat or two there. In Illinois, the legislature could redraw a couple of Republican seats to make them easier for Democrats to win. Oregon is gaining a seat, which could allow Democrats to go from a 4-to-1 to a 5-to-1 advantage.


Republicans will doubtless use every ounce of power they have to gerrymander themselves into a firmer hold on power, especially where that power is threatened. Texas is a good example: Though the state’s enormous growth has been driven by Latinos (who lean Democratic) and the large metropolitan areas dominated by Democrats, the Republicans who control the legislature will make sure the GOP reaps all the gains.


Story continues below advertisement

And though congressional district lines get the most attention, gerrymandering is often even more brutal when it comes to state legislative lines. The prototypical example is Wisconsin: Thanks to the GOP legislature’s gerrymandering, in 2018 Democrats won the popular vote for state assembly by 53 percent to 45 percent, but Republicans still held 63 of the 99 seats.


Results like that drive Democrats to oppose partisan gerrymandering — but they also have a principled objection, since they have become the party of small-d democratic representation. They wrote that belief into the For the People Act, which would eliminate gerrymandering by requiring states to create nonpartisan commissions to draw lines for the House of Representatives.


So how can they simultaneously say gerrymandering is wrong but still pursue it where they can? It’s not hard. In fact, you can argue that gerrymandering now is the only way they can have any chance to prevent gerrymandering in the future.


Story continues below advertisement

That’s because context matters. When Republicans are not only gerrymandering but taking other steps to make democratic accountability impossible — such as their manifold efforts at voter suppression — Democrats can’t protect democracy unless and until they have power.


Of course, they could do it now, if the Senate holdouts defending the filibuster changed course and allowed reforms barring gerrymandering to pass. But there are no signs that will happen.


And if Republicans take the House, safeguarding democracy will be impossible. Which means that at least for now, successful Democratic gerrymandering to offset inevitable Republican gerrymandering is absolutely necessary to enable the end of partisan gerrymandering.


Story continues below advertisement

The simultaneously bad and good news is that the vast majority of voters neither understand nor particularly care about the details of redistricting. No party is going to get punished at the polls because it was too aggressive in redrawing district lines.


That means there’s no accountability for attacks on democracy; and to repeat, the whole point of gerrymandering is to avoid democratic accountability. But it could also be a good thing, because it means Democrats can pursue this strategy without having to worry about being called hypocrites, even if it’s true.


So they should take that criticism and do whatever they have to do. If they don’t, the prospects for any reform to shore up our already weak and unresponsive system will evaporate.


The latest effort by moderates to upend Biden’s agenda is already backfiring

The latest effort by moderates to upend Biden’s agenda is already backfiring

Opinion by 
Columnist
Yesterday at 11:01 a.m. EDT

With Democrats stumbling headlong into the final negotiations over President Biden’s agenda, and progressives vowing to exercise maximal leverage in a way that has centrists in a fury, a question has arisen: How does the president himself want this process to unfold?


The answer to this suggests something counterintuitive about this moment. It may actually be in Biden’s best interests — that is, it may be crucial to ensuring passage of his agenda, which would be better for the country — if progressives do continue using their leverage as aggressively as possible.


House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) has announced that a planned vote on the $1 trillion bipartisan infrastructure bill has been postponed until Thursday. She hopes to broker an agreement in principle between centrists and progressives on the multitrillion-dollar social policy bill, in hopes that progressives will then agree to pass the bipartisan one.


Story continues below advertisement

Progressives want to wait until the Senate passes the social policy bill first — by a simple majority reconciliation vote — thus using their leverage to ensure that the latter is sufficiently robust.


But the centrists — or “moderates,” as some call them — now want Biden to bring down the hammer on progressives. Some centrists anonymously leaked to Politico Playbook that they’re “infuriated” that Biden has not yet pressured progressives to pass the bipartisan bill this week, before reconciliation is done:


Moderate Democrats expected Biden to start twisting House progressives’ arms during their White House meeting last week. But we’re told by sources in the progressive camp and another senior Democratic aide that the president has neither asked progressives to drop their demand that the reconciliation bill pass in tandem with [the Bipartisan Infrastructure Framework], nor pressed them to accept a stand-alone vote on BIF this week — at least not yet.

As one moderate griped to Playbook: “The president needs to pick up the phone and call people.”


You see, from the point of view of centrists, this is an indictment of Biden. But this misses the point entirely. If anything, this shows that Biden does not see utility in pressuring progressives, at least not in this fashion, meaning this gambit is already backfiring.


Story continues below advertisement

I can report that the office of Rep. Pramila Jayapal (D-Wash.), the chair of the Congressional Progressive Caucus, confirms this to be the case.


“The White House has not asked progressives to change course,” Chris Evans, a spokesperson for Jayapal, told me. He noted there has been no pressure to vote for the infrastructure bill “before” the reconciliation one is “passed.”


“Like the overwhelming majority of Democrats, progressives support President Biden’s entire Build Back Better agenda and look forward to sending both bills to his desk,” Evans added.


Note that progressives are working hard to cast themselves as the true champions of Biden’s agenda. And it’s true: The reconciliation bill’s provisions on global warming, child care, paid leave, health care and education — offset by reforms making the tax code fairer, more progressive and less prone to elite gamesmanship — comprise the blueprint from Biden and the Democratic Party to secure our nation’s future.


Story continues below advertisement

Centrists are balking at some of these provisions. Sen. Kyrsten Sinema (D-Ariz.) reportedly opposes higher taxes on the rich and corporations. Both she and Sen. Joe Manchin III (D-W.Va.) have said the $3.5 trillion target is too high, without specifying what spending they will accept. Meanwhile, some House centrists oppose its effort to curb prescription drug prices.


If Biden is not pressuring progressives to vote for the infrastructure bill first, what now?


Two different possibilities seem plausible. One is that, by Thursday, agreement is reached on a broad general compromise on the reconciliation bill. At that point, Pelosi and Biden might find some way to reassure progressives that centrists will ultimately vote for that compromise, and progressives might agree to pass the infrastructure bill.


Story continues below advertisement

If so, at that point Biden would be pressing progressives to take a leap of faith. But for this to work, he would have to secure some sort of meaningful commitment from Manchin and Sinema and other centrists first, not merely strongarm progressives, as the centrists want.


The second possibility is that progressives are not reassured, and continue to signal that they will vote no on the infrastructure measure. Pelosi postpones that vote again, until the Senate finishes the reconciliation bill. Making this more plausible, Jayapal told The Post’s Early 202 that dozens of progressives are prepared to do this.


If so, you can discern clues on what might happen then. On Friday, White House press secretary Jen Psaki told reporters that above all, the White House wants the infrastructure bill to pass. And Pelosi said Sunday that she will “never” bring a bill to the floor “that doesn’t have the votes.”


Story continues below advertisement

So if progressives hold the line, the vote really might be postponed. And you know what? That would be fine. If that vote were shelved until the reconciliation bill gets done, it would make it a lot more likely that Biden and Democrats succeed.


In the end, it will be on Biden to stage-manage all this in a way that enables all factions to get to yes. The best way to do this will be to give everyone the space to back down just a bit, each giving the other faction cover to do the same.


If we know one thing about Biden, it’s that he does recognize the need to be solicitous of the incentives and pressures tugging on lawmakers, to create pathways to get them to yes. But strong-arming progressives isn’t the way to do it. Any centrists who are angry at Biden’s “failure” to do this are only revealing their own inability to grasp what makes Biden so well-suited to this particular moment.