Americans are living in a period where there is a tsunami of change… and we are flailing. Our political systems, our very mindsets, seem unprepared to grapple effectively with these changes. I’ve discussed many of the massive global military threats we face and tackled the very likely impact of artificial-intelligence-driven automation on our socio-economic structure. We have to deal with these impending realities, already effecting a level of fear laced with the greatest polarization and economic inequality this nation (the world?) has ever faced. And we do so with a political system that favors states over cities and farmers over other workers. Based on a currently unamendable constitution that was created 230 years ago, we are facing change that was never contemplated by our Founding Forefathers.
Writing an OpEd for the New York Times (September 16th), Ganesh Sitaraman, – a professor at Vanderbilt Law School and author of The Crisis of the Middle-Class Constitution: Why Economic Inequality Threatens Our Republic – delves into our seeming political misfit based on structures and systems created literally in a different era: “[Our] Constitution has at least one radical feature: It isn’t designed for a society with economic inequality.
“There are other things the Constitution wasn’t written for, of course. The founders didn’t foresee America becoming a global superpower. They didn’t plan for the internet or nuclear weapons. And they certainly couldn’t have imagined a former reality television star president. Commentators wring their hands over all of these transformations — though these days, they tend to focus on whether this country’s founding document can survive the current president.
“But there is a different, and far more stubborn, risk that our country faces — and which, arguably, led to the TV star turned president in the first place. Our Constitution was not built for a country with so much wealth concentrated at the very top nor for the threats that invariably accompany it: oligarchs and populist demagogues.” The problem, of course, is both that too many American institutions have been built under this constitutional structure and the status quo benefits too many incumbents who have been accorded disproportionate power over “the rest of us.”
Sitaraman continues: “What is surprising about the design of our Constitution is that it isn’t a class warfare constitution. Our Constitution doesn’t mandate that only the wealthy can become senators, and we don’t have a tribune of the plebs. Our founding charter doesn’t have structural checks and balances between economic classes: not between rich and poor, and certainly not between corporate interests and ordinary workers. This was a radical change in the history of constitutional government.
“And it wasn’t an oversight. The founding generation knew how to write class-warfare constitutions — they even debated such proposals during the summer of 1787. But they ultimately chose a framework for government that didn’t pit class against class. Part of the reason was practical. James Madison’s notes from the secret debates at the Philadelphia Convention show that the delegates had a hard time agreeing on how they would design such a class-based system. But part of the reason was political: They knew the American people wouldn’t agree to that kind of government.
“At the time, many Americans believed the new nation would not be afflicted by the problems that accompanied economic inequality because there simply wasn’t much inequality within the political community of white men. Today we tend to emphasize how undemocratic the founding era was when judged by our values — its exclusion of women, enslavement of African-Americans, violence against Native Americans. But in doing so, we risk missing something important: Many in the founding generation believed America was exceptional because of the extraordinary degree of economic equality within the political community as they defined it.”
We tend to skirt the issue of challenging what has become perceived as a near-sacred document. I am reminded how difficult that foundational document is to change, probably impossible given the degree of contemporary polarization. The last amendment, the 27th, was passed a quarter of a century ago, in 1992, restricting the ability of Congress to give itself an immediate raise; it was placed into formal consideration 203 years earlier, in 1789.
Ok, that’s the legal structure, but what about mere human beings grappling with a huge long-term change in their environment, one that shakes their very existence to the core? Issues like Malthusian population explosion and geographically-redefining climate change? The stuff that pushes people out of their homes, trashes their livelihoods, foments desperate conflict, forces mass migration and reshapes global priorities and boundaries? Especially if those transitions are glacially slow, constant with occasional extreme, harsh and stark reminders. It seems that such massive long-term changes are not concepts that human brains can grasp and deal with particularly effectively.
David G. Victor – professor at UC San Diego’s School of Global Policy & Strategy and co-director of the Initiative on Energy and Climate at the Brookings Institution – Nick Obradovich – a research scientist at MIT’s Media Laboratory – and Dillon J. Amaya – PhD student at the Scripps Institution of Oceanography – provide the explanation and how meaningful policies can still be adapted in this excerpt from the September 17th editorial in the Los Angeles Times:
“So why isn’t the public heeding scientists and demanding climate action by politicians that could help deal with these destructive extremes? You can point fingers at the influence of fossil fuel companies, at misinformation from climate deniers and at political obstructionism, notably from a fragmented Republican party. But a much deeper force is also at work: the way our brains function.
“Humans aren’t well wired to act on complex statistical risks. We put a lot more emphasis on the tangible present than the distant future. Many of us do that to the extreme — what behavioral scientists call hyperbolic discounting — which makes it particularly hard to grapple with something like climate change, where the biggest dangers are yet to come.
“Our mental space is limited; we aren’t primed to focus on abstruse topics. Except for a small fraction that are highly motivated, most voters know little about the details of climate change, or the policy options relating to it. Instead, voters’ opinions about such things derive from heuristics such as political party affiliation and basic ideology…
“The arrival of extreme events — hurricanes, wildfires, drought and torrential deluges — is not proof to many people that scientists are right and that a complete rethinking of climate policy is overdue. Instead, voters see these shocks more as evidence that things are out of whack. Change is needed, and voters deliver that verdict not by reevaluating policy but by casting politicians out of office.
“Political scientists call such decision-making retrospective voting, and it too is rooted in how the brain deals with complex topics. It seems less than rational, but for busy voters, focusing on immediate, visible results and situations is a practical way to assess politicians, even if those results and situations are many steps removed from elected leaders’ actual responsibilities.
“When it comes to climate change, this sort of brain-driven behavior tends to create churn in political leadership rather than the continuity needed for long-term planning. It ejects whoever happens to be in office, rather than the real culprits. It doesn’t help that when politicians know they are at risk of losing office due to disasters, they may pursue quick payoffs, neglecting longer-term policies like those needed for emissions mitigation and climate adaptation…
“This grim analysis explains why political systems will always be playing catch-up. Even with the conspicuous signals of regular extreme events, public support for the policies needed to stop global warming will be fleeting. But that realization can also inspire new policy strategies that are better suited for our political brains.
“First, investments in technology can help immensely because they lower the cost of reducing emissions, making change appear less costly and easier to adopt. New energy technologies also create new interest groups that can help keep policy makers focused on controlling emissions when voters’ minds drift.
“Second, we’re likely to do better with policies that generate immediate and tangible benefits. A good example is efforts to control soot — a potent warming pollutant and also a central ingredient in noxious local air pollution. Even countries and societies that care little about global goals find it in their self-interest to protect the air their citizens breathe.
“Third, our political institutions can help people focus on the long view by surveying climate impacts on a regular basis, so that each extreme storm is less a novel event and more a part of a pattern that needs sustained policy attention. One model is California’s program of localized climate assessments that inform decisions about land-use planning and development. Another is the Obama administration’s regular, nationwide assessments, which are at risk of termination under President Trump.”
Some turn to religious, like those evangelicals who believe God could never leave us hanging, that His biblically-recounted pledge after the Great Flood never to wreak such a global catastrophe on mankind again is enough assurance against the ravages of climate change. Others seek to find groups to blame – immigrants or foreign powers or people of different faiths or racists – act accordingly, circling their cultural wagons. But unless we are willing to face reality, adapt our institutions and mindsets accordingly, history teaches us that such unprepared and stubborn nations never survive.
I’m Peter Dekom, and I am probably old enough to avoid witnessing the final death throes of a great nation, but there is so much denial circulating around me, so much polarization and pain, that I feel like screaming… er… blogging… even as it appears not enough people really care.
Posts
