The Resiliency of America

Elections mean everything.

But not because our favored candidate wins or loses. I'm old enough now to have experienced the highs and lows of many, many elections. Elections for Presidents, Senators, Representatives, Governors, legislators, and even city council members. Won some. Lost some. Cried in jubilation. Cried in despair.

But here's the thing. America has been the greatest nation on Earth for going on nearly a quarter of a millenium. Our nation is the first and greatest experiment in Democracy, the idea that the will of the People will govern the People. We've had great leaders. We've had terrible leaders. And yet, here we are. Still Number One on the Charts, Number One in Their Hearts. The rest of the world still looks to America as the great beacon of Hope, of Freedom, of Opportunity.

Last May, I was in Las Vegas with a diverse group of friends to run a half marathon and share some good fellowship. We talked some politics. One member of our group is a hard-core conservative. When others in our group expressed fear of a Trump presidency, I noted that Trump would be constrained by the American power structure—Congress, the Executive bureaucracy, the courts. In an age of expansive Presidential power, these constraints may not mean as much as they did in prior ages. But they are there, and they are real.

At this moment, the election hasn't been officially called, but it looks like Donald Trump—yes, the Celebrity Apprentice "You're fired!" Donald Trump—will most likely be our next President. I'm on record thinking Trump will be a disaster as President. I would have voted for Jeb! Bush, John Kasich, or Marco Rubio over Hillary Clinton, and basically any Joe or Jane Schmoe over Donald Trump. Yet, here we are. A majority of Americans (or close enough as to make no difference) prefer Donald Trump.

That's the beauty of democracy. The will of the People prevails. And it seems America wants to go a direction I think is folly. But who am I to say I know better than the People? Maybe the People as a whole are smarter than I am, Wisdom of the Crowd and all. In two years there will be another Congressional election, and in four years there will be another Presidential election. And if Trump is a disaster, if our country has lurched into a ravine, then my side will presumably win a victory or two, and maybe even claim a mandate. And if Trump is successful? Well, then America as a whole presumably is doing well and my fears were misplaced.

I know my Democratic friends will run through the list of unfair disadvantages Clinton faced. Gerrymandering. Voter suppression. Media fawning over Trump. FBI Director Comey's absurd injecting of himself into the last two weeks of a presidential race. Third-party candidacies by Libertarian Gary Johnson and Green Jill Stein. Irrational and even rabid investigations by a Republican House. And yes, still in 2016, residual sexism.

It's all bullshit.

Trump was the weakest potential candidate in a large Republican field. President Obama is as popular as President Reagan was at the end of his second term. The economy is doing well, and unemployment is under 5%. This loss is squarely on Hillary Clinton. Clinton, who already faced skepticism and distrust, chose to use a personal email server while Secretary of State, feeding into a narrative of dishonesty and lawlessness, creating a scandal that was both meritless and defining. She chose to give speeches to Wall Street companies for large fees. She chose to limit her campaign efforts in the Upper Midwest, taking the traditional support of blue-collar union workers for granted. Clinton had the most amazing possible opposition research to turn into anti-Trump ads, focusing on Trump's sexist, racist, and generally unsavory actions and attitudes. Even Trump's greatest strength—his self-acclaimed business acumen—turned out to be as much a fraud as the candidate himself.

Clinton's failure to capitalize on all of these inherent advantages is a testament to her weakness as a candidate. She failed to connect to ordinary Americans who have been left out of the economic recovery. She failed to explain how she would change the status quo, how she would represent those who aren't part of the social and economic elite. She failed to make a case why her Presidency would move America forward in a significant way other than being "not Trump". She simply failed to connect with We the People.

So, here we are. The American People have spoken. The People want change. The People want not-Clinton. The People want Donald Trump to look President Obama in the eye and say "You're Fired!" And in a democracy, the will of the People prevails.

So to all of my friends who are anti-Trump: Do not despair. Trump and the Republicans now have full and unfettered power. Everything is on them. If they let Obamacare fail without a safety net, it's on them. If Russia hacks our government computers, it's on them. If there is a terrorist attack or if the Middle East falls into chaos, it's on them. If the economy tanks, it's on them. If they repeal civil rights legislation, it's on them. And if the Republicans do any of these things, well there is always the next election. And today begins the next election. Today is the first day to start to make the case for change. Today is the day to begin recruiting candidates for city councils, state legislatures, and Congress. Today is the day to start the opposition to Donald Trump.

But remember, millions of people around the world don't have the ability to participate in an election. Many people around the word have no say in their governance. They have no say in who runs their country, no say in who speaks for them on the local or international stage, no say in who makes policies that affect their lives.

Elections mean everything. And that's a beautiful thing.

Kumbaya and the Limits of Empathy

Boy have we come a long way since the Iowa caucuses. As we await the results of yet another hotly disputed presidential election, my thoughts have turned to the widening and seemingly unbridgeable gulf between Republicans and Democrats, conservatives and liberals, right and left. In recent days, two prominent articles (one in the Washington Post, the other in the Wall Street Journal) have suggested that liberals need to learn to "empathize" with conservatives—in particular, blue-collar white voters.

These and similar empathy-trolling articles are based on the premise of finding a way to join hands and sing kumbaya after an election. This kumbaya mentality held a certain essential truth in the wake of the bitter, fractious elections from 2000-2012. Growing up in a small town in rural Nebraska, I understand the angst and even despair of those who feel left behind in the rapidly changing world. And I agree many liberals would be well-served to better understand and, yes, empathize with conservative voters.

But this election is different. We are far past differences in policy. We are even past disagreements as to basic facts; the rejection of shared facts by many conservative politicians and voters has only exacerbated our political divide. We are in a new and dangerous place where we no longer even share a concept of American democracy.

Trump has built his campaign on a base of alt-right, white nationalist support. This is not saying that all, or even a large number of his supporters are alt-right white nationalists. But that base, the ones supporting Trump because he wants to deport millions of Hispanics because they are "rapists and murderers", fueled his nomination. And we should rightly be disgusted by and reject them.

But even that is not the real problem with the kumbaya argument. The highly partisan, polarizing elections off 2000-2012 were fought within the shared boundaries of American democratic discourse. But Trump and the alt-right (with the tacit support of mainstream Republican leaders) have abandoned all pretense of those shared democratic values. Trump got his start with his alt-right base by championing the "birther" movement, attacking the legitimacy of Obama's presidency. Trump has only thrown gas on the alt-right fire with his rhetoric during the present campaign.

Trump not only claims polls are skewed, he and his alt-right supporters also assert the political process itself is rigged. Linking back to the racist base of his candidacy, Trump this week suggested the Nevada elections are "rigged" because polling places were only kept open for a "certain group" of voters. Or how about his rhetoric toward Clinton. Calling a political opponent "crooked" and "corrupt" is fair (if rough and tumble) commentary. Calling her a "criminal" and promising to throw her in prison is the stuff of fascism.

But this is just the tip of the iceberg. In even more heated rhetoric, Clinton is no longer merely a "criminal"; Trump and other Republican leaders are asserting that Clinton and President Obama are "traitors" or have committed "treason"--treason, of course, is one of the few federal crimes for which there is a death penalty. And don't forget Trump suggesting that, if the election goes the wrong way, his supporters should use their Second Amendment rights (a dog whistle to the alt-right, where the right to bear arms is held to be part of a right to armed rebellion against a perceived tyrant). And as the election drew to a close, Trump has even refused to state if he will accept the results as legitimate in the event he loses.

Of course, it's hard to know whether and to what extent Trump and other Republican leaders are drinking the alt-right Kool-Aid. For some, whipping up crowds chanting "Lock her up!" is only a tool to energize their voting base. Yet, when those chants turn to "Execute her!", those same Republican leaders turn mum, offering at best tepid rebukes, afraid of losing their base (or worse, becoming a target in their next primary).

It's one thing to argue that we should all find common ground and respect each other after a bitter campaign like Bush-Gore or Obama-Romney. But it's an entirely different argument when the Trump/alt-right wing of the Republican party rejects the legitimacy of our shared democratic norms. How, exactly, are we supposed to engage post-election, particularly if Clinton is elected? How is that conversation at the office or church supposed to go?

"Clinton is a criminal who ought to be thrown in jail."

"I guess I don't agree. I get your frustration, but you know, she hasn't even been charged with a crime."

"The corrupt system is just protecting her. She's a traitor and ought to be executed."

"Well, I see where you're coming from, and I can agree Clinton has had some shady moments, but I guess I can't agree with you about her being a traitor."

"Thomas Jefferson once said, 'The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.' And that's why we have the Second Amendment."

"Interesting point. Never thought of that perspective. Not sure I agree with you, but let me mull it over. Want to go grab lunch?"

Sorry, but certain ideas are sufficiently dangerous to a functioning democracy that they cannot be given false equivalency and treated as a legitimate part of political discourse. Rejecting the legitimacy of an anti-democratic argument is not "dehumanizing" those who advocate it; it's a defense of basic American values.

Sometimes, it's not about empathy. You understand your opponent's argument perfectly. And the only rational response is to say their idea is batshit insane.

So, until the Republican party rejects the batshit insane, anti-democratic, anti-American alt-right, I'm all out of empathy.

Empathy, anyone?

(Billboard posted by a resident of an affluent 

West Des Moines, Iowa neighborhood.)

Chopping the Primaries

As another set of presidential primary results come in tonight, it is interesting to note how the different delegate selection systems used by the Democrats and Republicans have had significantly different effects on how each party's eventual candidate will be selected. Let's look at these effects by using poker tournaments as an analogy.

Each state is essentially a separate poker tournament, offering a prize pool of delegates. The size of the prize pool (number of total delegates available) will vary based on the nature of the tournament. For example, some tournaments have smaller buy-ins or fewer participants, and have a smaller prize pool, while other tournaments have larger buy-ins or more participants, and have a larger prize pool. Under this analogy, California is the Main Event of the presidential primary season. You have to win a lot of smaller tournaments (or a lot of Nebraskas and Delawares) to net as many delegates as a win in the Main Event.

Even more important than the prize pool, however, is the payout structure. On the Democratic side, all states award delegates on a proportional basis—win 55% of the vote, get roughly 55% of the delegates (in states with small numbers of delegates, the delegate counts may deviate slightly due to rounding, such that a 52%-48% "win" results in an equal split of delegates). On the Republican side, however, early primaries were proportional (with a qualifying threshold), while most later-stage primaries are winner-take-all or winner-take-most affairs. In those states, a simple plurality of the vote—maybe as little as 40%—can win 90-100% of the delegates.

Viewed as poker tournaments, the Democratic primaries essentially are structured such that the candidates are required to "chop" every primary. As my poker-savvy readers know, chopping is an agreement to split the prize pool rather than playing out the tournament to its end. Chopping is common in poker tournaments, and is a method for reducing variance (being the chip leader is great until a couple of short stacks get lucky and knock you out with a small payout). Chopping is usually tied to chip stack size, recognizing that players with more chips have a better chance of winning. One basic method of chopping is a "chip-chop" where every player is paid last place money, and the remaining prize pool is divided proportionally to chip stack size. So, players with larger chip stacks get larger percentages of the prize pool, but everyone gets more money than last place money.

The Republican primaries—at least those remaining—are more akin to poker tournaments with top-heavy payout structures. Poker tournaments with guaranteed payouts (such as the WSOP "Millionaire Maker") often feature large payouts to the winner or top few players, with little or no prize money for lower finishers.

These structural differences are critical to the underdogs in both races. On the Democratic side, the primary was essentially decided by Super Tuesday, when Hillary Clinton opened up a sizable pledged delegate lead. Although Bernie Sanders has won numerous primaries and caucuses since then, most of those were in smaller states with fewer delegates. Even worse for Sanders, the proportional award of delegates made it difficult for Sanders to make an appreciable dent into Clinton's delegate lead because Clinton will pick up sizable numbers of delegates even in states she loses. Effectively, Sanders can never come close to sweeping a state's delegates. Based on projections by FiveThirtyEight.com, Sanders will likely need to win 65% of the delegates in the late-stage Democratic primaries, which translates into this essentially impossible scenario:

"Based on these estimates, Sanders would need to beat Clinton by 26 percentage points in California, 28 points in Indiana and 16 points in New Jersey, all states where he trails Clinton in polling averages. He’d also need to win Western states like Oregon and Montana by 50 or more percentage points."

~ FiveThirtyEight.com

By contrast, the top-heavy structure of the late Republican primaries offers Ted Cruz an opportunity to quickly close the delegate gap on Donald Trump if he is able to score even narrow wins in most of the larger remaining Republican primaries. Even though that scenario is unlikely to lead Cruz to a majority of delegates, Cruz still has a decent shot of winning enough delegates to deny Trump a majority of delegates, enabling Cruz to make it past a first ballot and into a scenario where delegates would no longer be pledged to Trump and could throw their support to Cruz (or John Kasich or Marco Rubio).

In short, Sanders could close out the remaining primaries on a string of 60%-40% victories and handily lose the Democratic nomination, while Cruz could close out the remaining primaries on a string of 40%-35%-25% victories and win the Republican nomination. Of course, the most likely scenarios are for Clinton and Trump to score solid victories in most of the remaining primaries (starting tonight) and wrap up majorities of pledged delegates prior to the party conventions. But the difference in delegate selection structure means Clinton is essentially on cruise-control while Trump will be in a dogfight to control Cruz.

RINO for a Day—Inside the Iowa Republican Caucuses

I am a Republican.

There. It feels better to have that secret out there. It has been a terrible burden to bear.

I haven't always been a Republican, though I did grow up in one of the most reliably Republican congressional districts in America—Nebraska District 3—which covers pretty much everywhere in Nebraska that isn't Omaha or Lincoln. Republicans in partisan elections can rely on running up 70-80% of the vote in this largely rural district where you find fifth and sixth generation family farmers and ranchers, and county seats with populations in the low-to-mid thousands. Social life revolves around school, church, and Huskers football. Guns and God (and running the dang ball) are a way of life, not a punchline. My hometown actually sits on the banks of the Republican River.

Still, in my very first Presidential election, I voted Democrat, supporting Jimmy Carter in his 1976 victory over Gerald Ford. I suppose technically my vote only counted in the highly influential Weekly Reader presidential poll, considering I was a first grader and couldn't get around that pesky 26th Amendment. Still, my guy had won, so being a Democrat meant being a winner. So I was a Democrat. Of course, I'm still bitter about the other big election that fall, when my elementary school voted on the color of the new tornado slide. Informal recess polls had red and gold neck-and-neck during election week, but somehow blue pulled off the upset victory. I still suspect those shady 5th and 6th graders committed election fraud.

The Iowa caucus system strongly resembles a school election. Voters are crammed into churches, schools, and community centers. The pledge of allegiance is recited. Some self-important busybody serves as chair because nobody else wants to run the show, and everyone mostly wants to get home to watch Netflix. Speeches are given and ignored. In lieu of a raffle or bake sale, envelopes are passed around for cash donations, with a reminder to keep it below the mandatory reporting threshold; nobody wants to do homework.

My first two forays into the caucuses were as a Democrat in 2004 (Edwards) and 2008 (Obama). Those were the first caucuses of the social media era, and turnout was substantially greater than anticipated. Democrats those years were motivated, organized, energized. We left the caucuses feeling that our votes mattered.

This year, I had planned to skip the caucuses. I had switched my voter registration to Independent in 2010, and the Democratic race seems to hold little actual suspense—it's your standard race between a candidate who would fail an open-book exam in Economics 101 and a candidate who would need a cheat-sheet to pass Intro to Ethics.

But then, around Thanksgiving, a sign appeared.

No, really. An actual freaking sign. In fact, it was this particular billboard mounted on a fence in my neighborhood:

Donald Trump billboard (12/8/2015), West Des Moines.
2016 Iowa Republican Caucuses.

This sign is four blocks from my house. It is mounted overlooking the corner where my street intersects with one of the busiest parkways in the Des Moines metro area. In an unintentional homage to the modern Republican Party's core constituencies, the sign sits smack between the biggest evangelical mega-church in the metro and the largest shopping mall in the state. Given that I run, walk, and drive past that corner several times each day, I've gotten to see a lot of that sign. And as the caucus season progressed, it drew plenty of attention from visitors and the media.

As Donald Trump might say, the sign is yuuuuge.

Now my significant other and I enjoy watching Trump's reality TV show, Celebrity Apprentice. On the show, Trump can be a bullying buffoon, but he's an entertaining buffoon. Trump as President? Not nearly so entertaining. For that matter, I wasn't particularly enamored of several other Republican candidates. But what could I do?

Then, Monday morning as I passed the Trump sign on my way to work, it occurred to me—why not caucus as a Republican? If I'm not thrilled with the Democratic candidates, why not help support a better (i.e., more tolerable) Republican candidate? At the very least, why not see who these people are who think Trump should be President? Maybe the Trump sign guy would even speak!

Iowa allows same-day voter registration, including changing parties to cross-over and vote in a primary or caucus. A quick form to complete online and print out, and presto! I was a newly minted Republican.

Caucus night was exciting. It was a five minute drive to the large Catholic church where our precinct (West Des Moines 221) and four other precincts (the efficiently numbered West Des Moines 222-225) would gather. We arrived at 6:40, and the line stretched around the building. More doors were opened, and the lines collapsed into a black hole inside the church with folks jostling to get in the right registration line. Based on official tallies, 1,203 people voted at our location, with the largest group (406) being from our precinct.

Organizers had not anticipated the large number of caucus participants. There were too few people working registration. Ballots ran out and had to be printed. Lines ground to a halt. In the midst of the chaos, candidate Carly Fiorina was giving a TV interview, presumably setting expectations for a "win" as outpolling Mike Huckabee and Deez Nuts.

Suddenly, a murmur broke out. There, walking through the crowd as if he were parting the Red Sea or walking the Oscars red carpet, was Donald Trump. The crowd acted like he was a Hollywood star, maybe George Clooney on a bad hair day. Trump smiled and basked in the crowd's adoration, gave brief remarks to a TV crew, then headed to the front of the church. Love him or hate him, the Donald exudes charisma.

Donald Trump arrives at the Iowa Republican Caucuses.
St. Francis Church, West Des Moines, 2/1/2016 .

Despite the registration backlog, the caucus was brought to order at 7:15 PM. At least 800 people were crammed into the fellowship hall, with the remaining 400 or so of us out in the adjoining entry room, many still waiting to register. A Boy Scout troop posted the American and Iowa flags, and we all recited the Pledge of Allegiance, because we're Americans, not Socialists, dammit. The temporary chair appointed by the state party was then elected to be permanent chair because nobody else wanted the hassle. And then, as I remained 25 people back in the glacial registration line, the main event was underway.

Each campaign was given three minutes to bore or annoy the crowd with a last minute sales pitch to those oddballs who, despite months of campaign mailers, TV ads, debates, and candidate appearances at local fairs and pancake dinners, still found themselves undecided mere minutes before voting. Carly Fiorina and Donald Trump each spoke for themselves at the beginning, followed by precinct representatives for the other campaigns in alphabetical order. Here are my summaries of their speeches. Keep in mind I was trapped in the undertow of the registration line the entire time, so my notes were minimal. Paraphrasing is likely to be inaccurate, while direct quotes are probably unusually inaccurate paraphrases.

Fiorina:  Drawing on her experience as a failed CEO, Carly gave a wonderfully upbeat speech filled with corporate jingoism meant to distract from her campaign's lousy performance in the 4th quarter of 2015. She closed with an appeal for "enough votes to attract a leveraged buyout or vice presidential nomination."

Trump:  The Donald is loud! He's successful! He's rich! He's an outsider! He will be a winner! Every other candidate is a loser! Free walls for everyone! Mexico will host an open bar with free margaritas and walls! Note: The WALL (TM) thing has me curious. Is Mexico using MasterCard, and if so, what kind of airline miles or cash back multiplier are they getting for construction-related purchases? Will Mexico pay for my new backyard retaining wall? Because that would be amazing.

Santorum:  Rick's wife, Karen, reminded the crowd that the Muslim terror group, ISIS, wants Rick dead, which is sad and puzzling because they share those strong Christian values of demonizing gays and returning civilization to the good ol' days of the Dark Ages. Also, the electoral system is rigged against those who dare to speak against the Republican establishment, particularly if your name happens to rhyme with "Dick Mantorum." Karen closed with an anecdote about how Rick likes to make blackberry jam. But either she forgot to bring jam, or there wasn't enough for those of us in back. Trump would've had jam for everyone, and it would've been award-winning, amazing jam, and Venezuela would've paid for it with a post-dated check. Anyway, no jam, no vote.

Bush:  Jeb! can win Florida. Jeb! can win Ohio. In a close election, Jeb! can win in the Supreme Court. Basically, Jeb! has a very particular set of skills, and at this point, he expects you to vote for him, because if you don't, he's going to torture you with more cheesy super-PAC ads.

Carson:  Doctor Ben is a regular guy. He'd totally drop by your house on Thanksgiving. "By the way, we're all neighbors. You're supposed to love your neighbor. How many of you even know your neighbor?" [crowd shuffles uncomfortably] [Note: This was a totally real quote.]

Cruz:  Ted is a good person. Ted believes in God. He reads the Bible. Ted believes in the Constitution. It's not clear if he has read the Constitution. Ted will ban gay marriage, abortion, and the designated hitter. Ted makes the apple-iest apple pie. Ted is not only not Canadian, he is the only candidate willing to carpet bomb ISIS in Canada.

Huckabee:  No one spoke for Huckabee. For the first time ever, I agreed with every word said by Huckabee's campaign.

Kasich:  Only John can save the United States. Only you can prevent forest fires.

Paul:  Rand's niece, Lisa, spoke. "Dammit Jim! Rand is a doctor, not a career politician!" Note: This message would probably work better if Rand wasn't badly trailing a world-renowned neurosurgeon who actually has never held political office.

Rubio:  "Marco is very religious, but doesn't want to flaunt it. He keeps it private. Like this past Sunday when he came to Mass at this very church. And again both the Saturday and the Sunday before that. Marco loves Mass at this church." Also, Marco is the best candidate for beating Hillary in the general election. There are three important points to remember about Marco:

1. Experience
2. Judgment
3. ???

Profit!

Official ballot, West Des Moines Precinct 221.
Iowa Republican Caucuses, 2/1/2016.

High tech ballot box, West Des Moines Precinct 221.
Iowa Republican Caucuses, 2/1/2016.
"White" label distinguishes white ballots from Precinct 221
from different colored ballots from other precincts at the caucus site.

Following the campaign speeches it was time to vote. In the Democratic caucuses, participants physically gather themselves into groups by candidate, then spend an hour playing a ritualized version of Red Rover as each campaign poaches people from and lends people to other campaigns to maximize their delegates while minimizing the delegates of selected rivals. The Republican Party, however, is much more modern and simply casts a statewide straw poll using cutting edge technology designed to expedite voting and thwart election fraud—paper ballots and golf pencils. Basically it was just like that Weekly Reader election back in 1976, except instead of the sainted Mrs. Pearson counting the ballots, it was a committee of party hacks in a back room, supervised by the caucus chair who also totally coincidentally was also Marco Rubio's precinct captain.

After dropping our ballots in the color-coded and completely secure homemade ballot boxes—our precinct was awkwardly designated the "White" precinct—we had the option of leaving or sticking around for a business meeting about organizing the precinct and electing county party leaders and committees. We skipped out before we could be drafted to make glitter signs and hang crepe paper in the gym or whatever.

Unfortunately, it turns out I was on the wrong end of this grown up Weekly Reader poll. In selecting a candidate to back, my first criterion was "Don't Be Batshit Insane". Right away that knocked out Trump, Cruz, Carson, Paul, Santorum, and Huckabee. Christie is a jerk. Fiorina lacks experience. I could find myself supporting Jeb!, Rubio, or Kasich even if I don't agree with some/many of their policy positions; unlike the rest of the field, they seem qualified to govern.

In the end, I went with Jeb! while my precinct went with Rubio. In fact, Rubio (160 votes) essentially tied the combined votes of Trump (86 votes) and Cruz (75 votes) who finished second and third in the precinct. The aggregate votes for the five precincts at our location had a similar pattern, with Rubio (455 votes) far outpacing Trump (240 votes) and Cruz (228 votes). Although Rubio finished third overall in the state, he clearly attracts the support of middle-class suburban voters who will be critical to the success of any candidate in the general election (statewide precinct level results have been compiled by the New York Times and the Iowa Secretary of State).

So much for the good signs. The bad omen is that Trump and Cruz are both still ahead of Rubio and the rest of the pack. Trump looks to win New Hampshire. Trump and Cruz are both strong in South Carolina. Rubio or any other "establishment" or "mainstream" Republican candidate will need to find a way to tap into the anti-establishment energy driving this campaign or be left in the dust.

Although the presidential primary marathon has only begun, Iowa's turn in the spotlight is blessedly over. Now it's up to the next wave of primary states to further clarify who will represent the Republican Party. As for me, my 48 hours as an Iowa Republican have been exhilarating and embarrassing. At least if Trump is nominated, I can say I played my part in the resistance. But sometime in the next few weeks, this Republican will turn back into an Independent.

In the meantime, I have a hankering for some homemade blackberry jam.

Standing room only at St. Francis Church, West Des Moines.
Iowa Republican Caucus, 2/1/2016

Standing room only at St. Francis Church, West Des Moines.
Iowa Republican Caucus, 2/1/2016

Donald Trump enters the Iowa Republican caucuses.
St. Francis Church, West Des Moines, 2/1/2016.

Crowds waiting to register for Iowa Republican Caucuses.
St. Francis Church, West Des Moines, 2/1/2016.

Crowds waiting to register for Iowa Republican Caucuses.
St. Francis Church, West Des Moines, 2/1/2016.

Dawn Summers Makes Me Say "Hmmm"

For reasons that will become apparent in a later post, I was doing some searches for a particular blog post by the inestimable and prolific Real Dawn Summers when I stumbled across this interesting quote from conservative political blog "Freedom Matters":

“Obama is all style. No substance. He’s all ‘I want to send children to the moon,’ and then when you ask how he says ‘Hope.’” – Dawn Summers

O_o

Well clearly there has to be a FAKE Real Dawn Summers who just happens to hold the opposite political views of the REAL Real Dawn Summers we all know and love. Sort of a matter-antimatter thing. Real Dawn v. Anti-Real Dawn.

But wait. What's that on the Dawn Summers blog Clareified, from way back in February 2008? A tormented blog post, you say?

I called up pearatty last night after watching a particularly horrific Hillary Clinton interview with George somethingsomethingopolis.

“I’m losing faith,” I cried, “maybe Obama is better.”

“Dawn,” she said, “Obama is all style. No substance. He’s all “I want to send children to the moon,” and then when you ask how he says “Hope.”"

That made me laugh.

He totally would say hope. That wanker.

Obama is untested to say the least. He’s 40, has won exactly one statewide election –where his opponent was a transplant from another state — and he didn’t even give a crap about that job enough to so much as finish a half of it before he decides no running the United States is what he’d be better at.

Yeah, me too. I can run the United States. Um…I believe in myself and stuff.
And of course, should the idiot wing of the Democratic party will out and nominate…ack ack ack…Obama, I will work as hard as I usually work at things, to see that he…umm…loses to McCain by as few votes as possible. (I tried typing beats McCain, but I was giggling too hard that I couldn’t see the keyboard.)

~Dawn Summers, "They try to make me like Obama, I say no, no, no."

o_O

So, while I was busy in Iowa caucusing for our eventual President, Dawn Summers was calling him a "wanker"?

I am so telling Obama.

Politics—A Game of Chance

Poker players are familiar with the "skill vs. luck" debate, which leaves most poker players scratching their heads trying to figure out why the law looks at a game requiring significant skill, then labels it "gambling" and lumps it in with games of pure chance like roulette, keno, and lotteries. But given that there is an element of luck or chance inherent in the nature of the game, perhaps banning or regulating poker as "gambling" is a necessary step to insulate the public from risking money on something as random as the turn of a card.

Of course, when it comes to politics, hypocrisy and arbitrary line drawing are standard plays. Games of chance might be too dangerous for people who want to play a little hold 'em at home, but apparently betting your entire roll on the luck of the draw is perfectly acceptable for politicians:

It's one of the weirder traditions of American democracy:  In many states, if a [political] race is tied, a "game by lot" -- cards, straws, or most often, a coin toss -- determines who goes to the house and who goes home. Months of campaigning, committee assignments, the fortunes of careers, the possibility of political change -- it all comes down, like possession in a football game, to heads or tails.

That's right, after months of ads, yard signs, debates, rallies, speeches, and fundraisers, if an election is tied, the winner of the political race is generally decided by chance. But how can that be legal? Isn't a political office something too important to be left to the luck of the draw?

The election noted in the article above is a state legislature race in New Mexico, which is currently tied pending a recount. Under New Mexico law, "gambling" is defined to include both "making a bet" and "conducting a lottery". A "bet" is defined under New Mexico law as:

[A] bargain in which the parties agree that, dependent upon chance, even though accompanied by some skill, one stands to win or lose anything of value specified in the agreement. ...

A "lottery" is defined under New Mexico law as:

[A]n enterprise wherein, for a consideration, the participants are given an opportunity to win a prize, the award of which is determined by chance, even though accompanied by some skill. ...

Now, at least arguably, a political office is "anything of value" or "a prize", such that relying on the flip of a coin, playing of cards, or drawing of lots to win that political office would constitute illegal "gambling". Of course, it's not really so straightforward. Like many states, New Mexico's gambling laws carve out a wide number of exceptions for a variety of occupations and undertakings that rely in part of elements of chance. Here, New Mexico's gambling law exempts "betting otherwise permitted by law". Of course, there are statutes permitting tied political races—both state and municipal—to be determined by resorting to drawing lots:

In the event of a tie vote between any candidates in the election for the same office, the determination as to which of the candidates shall be declared to have been nominated or elected shall be decided by lot. The method of determining by lot shall be agreed upon by a majority of a committee consisting of the tied candidates, the county chairmen of the political parties that participated in the election and the district judge. The county canvassing board shall issue the certificate of nomination or election to the candidate chosen by lot.

In the event of a tie vote between any candidates in the election for the same office, the determination as to which of the candidates shall be declared to have been elected shall be decided by drawing by impartial lot. The method of determining by lot shall be mutually agreed upon by the candidates who are tied. The municipal clerk shall issue a certificate of election to the candidate chosen by lot.

So, by definition New Mexico law permits political races to be decided by drawing lots—by chance—yet still declares poker to be illegal gambling despite being predominately a game of skill. It would seem that if we as a society agree that resorting to a pure game of chance is good enough to determine something as sacrosanct as our democratically elected political leaders, then maybe, just maybe, we can trust adults to take a reasonable gamble on the turn of the cards in a game of poker.

I wonder where Ms. Ferrary and Mr. McMillan stand on the issue of legalizing poker. If one of them is ultimately awarded office by luck of the draw, I wonder if they will maybe, just maybe, look at poker in a different light.

What are the odds?

In Cursura Veritas (In Running, Truth)

"You are never really playing an opponent. You are playing yourself, your own highest standards, and when you reach your limits, that is real joy."

~ Arthur Ashe

Last week, Republican Vice Presidential nominee Paul Ryan brewed a political tempest in a teapot when he was caught lying about his history of marathon running during an interview with Republican talk show host Hugh Hewitt. Ryan, a fitness fanatic, proudly claimed to have run a sub-3:00:00 marathon, specifically asserting he had run "Under three [hours], high twos. I had a two hour and fifty-something." Trouble is, Runner's World writer Scott Douglas did some research and found that Ryan's only recorded marathon time was actually 4:01:25 at the Grandma's Marathon in Duluth, Minnesota (generally regarded as one of the top ten marathons in the United States).

Ryan's campaign issued a statement admitting Ryan had not been truthful, but suggesting Ryan simply mis-remembered his time from a race 20 years ago. Although Ryan's explanation is probably good enough to satisfy the general public, among serious runners his explanation simply doesn't hold water. By asserting he had run a marathon in under three hours, Ryan was claiming to be among the elite of recreational runners. In the 2012 Grandma's marathon, only 145/3425 (4.2%) of men and 165/5788 (2.9%) overall runners cracked the three hour barrier. By contrast, Ryan's solid but unspectacular actual time of roughly 4:01:00 was matched in the 2012 Grandma's marathon by 1573/3425 (45.9%) of men and 2169/5788 (37.5%) overall runners. Ryan's boast is the poker equivalent of bragging about making the final table of the WSOP Main Event while actually busting out long before the money.

There is exactly zero chance Ryan simply made an honest mistake. Runners remember their times from their most significant races; maybe not down to the precise second, but certainly they remember whether they beat certain paces or times. For a marathon, the significant times all runners know are sub-3:30:00, sub-3:00:00, and Boston Marathon qualifying (generally between 3:00:00 and 3:30:00, depending on age and gender). Looked at another way, the pace for a sub-3:00:00 marathon is roughly 6:30 to 6:45 minutes/mile, while a 4:00:00 marathon is roughly a 9:15 minutes/mile pace. Trust me if you aren't a runner, but 2:30 minutes/mile is a big difference over one mile, and a massive (and painfully impossible) difference over 26 miles. So, breaking a significant, elite time barrier like 3:00:00 is simply not something a serious runner would forget or make a mistake about.

On the political side, Ryan's lie generated some discussion from pundits who were baffled why he would misrepresent something so trivial and so easily checked (James Fallows at the Atlantic and Nicholas Thompson at the New Yorker have some interesting thoughts on the subject). But to to frame Ryan's lie in a political context misses the point, in my estimation. In the rough and tumble of politics, Americans have come to expect politicians of every stripe to exhibit a certain casual disregard for the Truth, spinning fantastical policy proposals and unleashing outrageous attacks on the policies and character of their opponents.

But Ryan's marathon lie is not a political lie, it is a personal lie, an illusion to provide the bona fides for the legend of Raul Ryan, all-American hero. Ryan's marathon lie points to a deeper character flaw than mere craven politicking. In Ryan, we have a man who ran a perfectly creditable first marathon at a young age. Yet it wasn't enough for Ryan to be part of the proud pack of Americans who have completed a marathon in average fashion. Instead, Ryan's personal narrative required him to be among the elite of marathon runners. So, somewhere along the way, Ryan bedazzled his racing résumé.

Ryan's lie pales in comparison to some of the more odious examples of its ilk—misrepresentations of military service and honors, job experience, and educational credentials are more serious and probably more common. Even among marathon fraudsters, Ryan's lie is rather petty compared with the notorious Rosie Ruiz who cheated her way to short-lived victories in the New York City and Boston marathons, or the lesser known but more ambitious Kip Litton who was recently outed as having cheated in several marathons in a quest to break the 3:00:00 barrier in every state, going so far as to even invent one marathon entirely (hat tip to @Iggylicious for pointing out Mark Singer's excellent piece in The New Yorker).

Still, Ryan's lie is probably more disturbing to those of us who are serious runners. For the vast majority of runners, running is not about prizes and accolades, running is purely about personal growth. In an ironic twist, running embodies the Ayn Rand-infused self-made-man mythos Ryan has long demagogued. Runners start from different baselines of ability, and have different natural limits to their talent. But within those parameters, whether a runner improves is solely a function of how hard they want to work. Sure, runners will race each other, but mostly runners are racing themselves, chasing their own personal records (PRs), seeing if they can set a faster pace through a section of hills, or trying to kick a great last mile. The only way to measure improvement—the only way to "keep score"—is by stopwatch. A runner who cheats on his time insults those runners who have put in the effort, the hard work, to earn their times.

Make no mistake, marathon training is hard work. It takes dedication to stick with training in heat, humidity, wind, rain, cold, snow, and ice. It takes commitment to organize your daily routine to include two hours or more for running. It takes grit to keep pushing yourself when you've run fourteen miles and have six more to go, and your legs are burning with lactic acid and your chest is straining for oxygen. But most of all, it takes mental toughness to silence that voice in the back of your head that wants you to ease up the pace, take a walking break, cut short a workout, or enjoy an extra rest day. Paul Ryan probably had—and may still have—the physical talent to run a sub-3:30:00 or even a sub-3:00:00 marathon. But Ryan chose the easy path, awarding himself the honor of an elite time he couldn't be bothered to work for.

Maybe Paul Ryan's marathon lie shouldn't disqualify him from becoming Vice President. Of course, in my view, many of his political positions have already disqualified him. Still, if you are an undecided voter, next time you hear Ryan wax poetic about how Americans can achieve anything they want through hard work, just remember:

Paul Ryan doesn't believe that.

Marriage Equality & the Courage of Political Pandering

In a recent TV interview that seems to have flown under the national media radar, President Obama announced publicly that he supports the rights of gay and lesbian Americans to legally marry their same-sex partners. The President was immediately criticized by many in his own party for being a political coward who had not "evolved" far enough fast enough from support for civil unions to support for full marriage equality. The President also took political fire from Republicans who predictably claimed that the President was cravenly pandering to wealthy donors and liberal base voters by publicly admitting to his support for marriage equality. Frankly, both sets of critics are correct. But President Obama's statement on marriage equality fits quite comfortably in the context of gay rights issues in modern American politics.

Let's begin in 1980, the first presidential election I can remember (I was in fourth grade). The 1980 election was probably the defining moment in American politics in my lifetime, when Ronald Reagan finally mastered the dark art of fusing socially conservative voters to the traditional Republican base of financial conservatives and foreign policy hawks. Reagan's views on gay issues "devolved" quickly from his opposition as a former governor to a California initiative to ban gays from teaching in public schools to a presidential campaign where he courted social conservative voters and donors with campaign statements condemning gays as engaged in an immoral "alternative lifestyle". Reagan's administration kowtowed to the newly influential religious right on the paramount gay issue of the decade—the AIDS crisis. Reagan never even acknowledged the existence of the AIDS epidemic publicly until near the end of his second term in 1987, while his administration shamefully delayed taking any public policy position because many of his top advisers viewed AIDS as a gay disease where the victims "are only getting what they justly deserve." Reagan's loathsome communications director, Pat Buchanan, even authored a New York Post op-ed piece in which he declared, "The poor homosexuals—they have declared war upon nature, and now nature is exacting an awful retribution."

Reagan's presidency also coincided with the U.S. Supreme Court's decision in Bowers v. Hardwick. The Supreme Court—the ultimate protector of justice and equality—declared in rather harsh language that if states wanted to make being gay a criminal offense, well that was perfectly OK under the Constitution. This decision and the vestigial anti-sodomy laws it endorsed were used over the next two decades by many conservative states to justify refusing to permit gays to adopt children. After all, gays were criminals by law.

Pandering on gay rights issues reached its zenith in the 1990s when Congressional Republicans whipped their social conservative base into a frenzy on the twin issues of patriotic support for military service and strengthening families by working to ban gays from serving their country in the military or creating families by getting married. The equally loathsome "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" (DADT) and "Defense of Marriage Act" (DOMA) were enacted with ease, thanks to hordes of Congressional Democrats falling all over themselves in a mad rush to reassure voters that, although they liked gays more than the Republicans and welcomed their votes and donations, they certainly weren't going to, you know, actually vote to support any recognition of gays as deserving of equality. Of course, Senate Republicans had to put a pickle on the shit sandwich of DOMA by voting down a proposed Employment Non-Discrimination Act (ENDA) that would have given federal protection to gays against employment discrimination (a law that has yet to be passed even today).

The 1990s also saw the genesis of the Republican tactic of using ballot measures to enshrine anti-gay bigotry into various state constitutions. Colorado voters bought into Republican rhetoric that gays should not be given "special rights" and passed a constitutional amendment prohibiting any state or local law or ordinance granting gays protection from discrimination in any form (targeted at local ordinances barring discrimination based on sexual orientation in employment or housing). Thankfully, the U.S. Supreme Court eventually invalidated the amendment in Romer v. Evans, but Republicans still use the "special rights" dog whistle to this day.

Moving into the current century (even if the Republican party would prefer not to do so), President George W. Bush campaigned on a "compassionate conservatism" platform. Apparently the "compassion" part was optional, as Bush (with the tacit support of the Gay Quisling) based his reelection strategy in 2004 in part by pandering to social conservatives in key swing states by instigating votes on state constitutional amendments banning gay marriage, not to mention openly endorsing the idea of a federal constitutional amendment also banning gay marriage.

Which brings us to the era of President Obama. Obama campaigned on the promise of repealing DADT, which had broad bipartisan public support. Yet Republicans led by supposed-moderate John McCain fought tooth and nail to preserve DADT and deny gay Americans the right to openly serve their country. My cynical view is that the Republican resistance was less about military service than it was about marriage equality. After all, if the public ever saw a gay soldier or sailor return from active duty to the embrace or even marriage proposal of a same-sex partner, the social conservative case against marriage equality would suffer a serious public relations blow. Also, gays serving in the military would be particularly vulnerable to the whims of the patchwork of state laws governing marriage equality, and a gay military couple would make a compelling example of the indignities imposed by DOMA and state anti-gay marriage laws.

In other recent political pandering, after years of Republican calls for marriage equality issues to be decided by legislatures not courts, Republican New Jersey Governor Chris Christie—his eyes firmly on social conservative support for a presidential campaign in 2016—vetoed a marriage equality bill and moved the equality goalposts back even further, demanding a statewide vote on a marriage equality constitutional amendment. Republican legislators in Louisiana voted to maintain laws that prohibit gays from adopting children under any circumstances, while Republican legislators in Virginia passed a law making it significantly more difficult for gays to adopt. Republican legislators in Missouri and Tennessee proposed laws to prevent public school teachers from even discussing gays. North Carolina Republicans pushed through a state constitutional amendment barring gays from marrying, even though state law already prohibited gays from marrying, and the Republican Speaker of the House admitted that the amendment would likely be overturned in a few years. And the leading Republican candidates for President fell over each other in declaring their anti-gay bona fides, with presumptive nominee Mitt Romney "evolving" from declaring his strong support for gay rights in the 1990s to pandering to social conservatives with a strongly anti-gay platform in the current presidential race. And just to drive the anti-gay point home, Romney recently hired then fired an openly gay adviser to placate the religious right.

Whew! That's a lot of political pandering on gay rights issues. President Obama's pandering fits right in ....

That being said, there is some merit to President Obama's critics on the left who note that Obama's "evolution" on marriage equality was a cynical and cowardly ploy calculated to ensure his election in 2008. Those critics are correct—President Obama is hardly leading the charge for marriage equality. Compared to many marriage equality proponents—Washington Governor Christine Gregoire, New York Governor Andrew Cuomo, Rhode Island Governor Lincoln Chafee, New Hampshire legislators, prominent Republican attorney Ted Olson, Iowa Senate Majority Leader Mike Gronstal, and former Iowa supreme court justices Marsha Ternus, Michael Streit, and David Baker, just to name a few—President Obama is downright cowardly in his evolution from supporting civil unions to his recent support for full marriage equality (qualified by pushing the issue off to the states).

Still, as a matter of pragmatism, it is rather politically unrealistic for gay rights proponents to expect politicians to openly endorse gay rights issues if doing so results in political suicide. After all, what good are politicians who support gay rights if their gay-favorable stances make them unelectable? In President Obama's case, it is arguable that a pro-marriage equality position in 2008 might have resulted in the election of John McCain. It seems obvious that gays are far better off with Obama as President than they would have been with McCain in the White House. In fact, President Obama has done far more to advance gay rights in three years—repealing DADT, rescinding the HIV travel ban, taking the position that DOMA is unconstitutional, publicly supporting marriage equality, nominating gays to positions as judges or significant administration posts—than all his predecessors have accomplished in over two centuries. Gays could use more cowards like President Obama fighting on their side.

In the long run, President Obama's public support for marriage equality both reflects and pushes the increasing public support for the right of gays to marry. But President Obama's support for marriage equality is not just merely a symbolic political position, it is a powerful statement of inclusion and equality for gays, serving as a beacon of hope to gays that they too can live the American dream of marriage, family, and a house with white picket fence (or tasteful shrubbery).

Just this spring, a teenage boy had the courage to come out as gay in his small rural high school in deeply conservative northwest Iowa. Kenneth Weishuhn, Jr. was by all accounts a happy and well-liked 14 year old. He created a Pinterest page— "When I get married. (: " —to share his plans for his wedding to the man of his dreams he had yet to meet. Yes, a 14 year year old gay Iowa boy was dreaming of his happily-ever-after wedding day. How much more traditional, more sappy, can any teen get?

A mere month after coming out, Kenneth committed suicide. Traumatized by the jeers and taunts of his classmates, Kenneth could no longer hide the emotional hurt behind his outward smile. Kenneth's death brought outrage, sympathy, and reflection. Hopefully Kenneth's death will be a catalyst for meaningful changes in attitudes towards gays in general and towards bullied teens in particular.

But no matter what happens, Kenneth will never meet the man of his dreams. He'll never fall in love. He'll never get to enjoy his perfect wedding day.

For the President of the United States to tell gay folks that their relationships are just as important as opposite-sex relationships, that gay people should be free to marry the person they love, is not just a merely symbolic political act, it is an important act of personal affirmation and support. President Obama's declaration of support for marriage equality, regardless of its political motivations, is a courageous and historical milestone in the struggle for gay rights. I don't give a flying pig how or why he arrived at this spot at this time; at the end of the day President Obama has chosen to stand with gay Americans in their quest for equality.

For the first President to show his support for gays as fully equal Americans, I can forgive a slow "evolution" of his views, and can overlook a reluctance to get too far ahead of public opinion. President Obama has made a historical choice on a major, controversial issue of his day, while in the midst of a heated campaign for reelection. Whether that announcement proves to be shrewd or foolhardy as a political decision remains to be seen, but it is undeniably courageous.