Snippets

The newscaster a few days ago said that a tropical storm was forming in the Caribbean and continued, sounding reproachful, “even though the official hurricane season does not start until the first of June.” I know that there are precise times for the equinoxes and solstices that signal a change in the seasons, but isn’t the “official” start of the hurricane season an artificial date or are storms expected to know these deadlines?

I received a census questionnaire. The first sentence of the explanatory material told me that this was my “invitation to respond” to the census. At the bottom of the page it told me that my “response is required by law.” Is it an “invitation” if the law requires me to fill it out?

In this unusual time, many people are doing a lot of baking. I think of the words of a character in Gregory Sherl’s, The Future for Curious People: “My favorite food groups go cheese, bread, cheese bread, and soup served in a hollowed-out loaf of bread.”

Do the Christians who are non-celiac but gluten-free pray sincerely, “Give us this day our daily bread”?

To my surprise, I have been eating healthily during these shut-in days, but I began to feel a strong urge for some junk food. I did not succumb because I could not resolve my quandary: What is a decent wine to pair with a DingDong?

I hear conservatives rail against the “elites,” but that term is not defined. Sean Hannity has seemingly open access to the president and greatly influences him. It has been reported that Hannity makes $36 million a year and lives in a “mansion” in a fancy place on Long Island. Few have as much power and money as Hannity does. Surely that places him in the elite category, but in his eyes and others it does not. That just doesn’t make sense.

A teacher in my grade school periodically checked our fingernails to see if they were clean, something that continues to bedevil me. One girl’s nails always were spotless, and the teacher, pleased, remarked one day, “You must wash the dishes before you come to school.” She smilingly nodded yes in this time before dishwashers. Was this teacherly exercise appropriate? Does it still happen? And why won’t my fingernails stay clean?

A plaque on my desk states: “Every Time You’re Right Someone Loves You A Little Less.” Every time I read those words, I figure that I am not much loved.

I needed a new aortic valve. To get to my heart, the medical team went in with a catheter through the groin. In life generally, the path to the heart frequently goes through the groin.

Old joke: “Drinking makes you look beautiful.” “I haven’t been drinking.” “But I have.”

For Sanity, We Made Jokes

          When I started work as a public defender, I felt myself an outsider. I was viewed with suspicion by many of my colleagues. They were almost always local people who had attended local colleges and law schools. My Ivy League background and my recent relocation to New York City were not considered pluses. Out of the hundreds of attorneys, only a handful had attended an elite law school as I had. Many assumed that I was a dilettante who could not do the work. But the duties suited me.

We did not operate in teams as was done in other public defender offices where I later worked. In New York, an individual attorney, with little oversight, represented clients, and I operated best in this kind of environment. While I learned to discuss difficult cases with others, no authority told me what to do, which, given my anti-authoritarian nature, suited me just fine.

The job required being able to take individual responsibility. I am not a fighter by nature. I seldom initiate a confrontation, but when I am cornered, I am a battler. Basically, a public defender spends a career being cornered, and I was surprisingly good in those situations. I soon had the respect of my colleagues. I truly liked and respected most of the people I worked with. They were good attorneys.

          I also learned a lot and not just about how to be a lawyer. I gained knowledge about lives I would not have otherwise encountered. Much of it was ugly stuff, and I had to find ways to cope with that. Sometimes, for example, I would meet clients hours after they were arrested, and they were going through drug withdrawal, which was awful to see. Even now, many years later, I can’t watch a depiction of that in a movie or on TV. When I left the work, I wanted to leave behind the encounters with violence, dysfunctional families, and hopeless alcoholics. I did not want to bring those memories into the rest of my life, but that has not always been an easy task.

          The difficulty in separating out the public defender work from the rest of my life was there even while doing the work. I cultivated the mental habit of being a careful listener, cataloging and putting into the memory bank what I had been told. The instinct was to be suspicious of every assertion, and I remembered when a client, a cop, a prosecutor, or a judge told me something that was different from what the person had said two weeks or two months previously. Such an inconsistency was hoarded because it might be valuable down the road in defending the indigent. But this habit could become second nature and be carried over into “normal” life, and being immediately suspicious of what friends, family, and other loved ones said is not a particularly good way to operate in regular life.

          We defenders also easily fell into stereotyping victims and defendants. For example, we would say that blacks used guns, Italians knives, and Irish fists. Orthodox Jews committed crimes with pens—various kinds of fraud—or unorthodox sex crimes, such as inserting a key into a young girl’s vagina to “unlock” her. Gypsies (no Roma for us) and Russians were incapable of telling the truth. And many more.

I would like to think that such stereotyping did not affect me when representing the individual client, but I know that I operated on ethnic and other stereotypes in jury selection. Common wisdom was gleaned from other attorneys. For example, try to exclude a black juror born in the West Indies if a black born in the South was on trial. These stereotypes went beyond the racial and ethnic. I had assumptions about the kind of person who would live in certain neighborhoods or hold particular jobs that affected the use of my peremptory challenges. Once again, I did not want all this typing of groups to invade the rest of my life.

          Manipulation also became second nature. Can I maneuver the prosecutor or judge into a better deal for my client? But also, can I manipulate, or more neutrally, convince my client into seeing that a particular plea bargain is not only a good one, but the best he is going to get? Of course, there is manipulation in everyday life, but it is not the constant that it was in criminal defense work.

          Indeed, the contrast between my work life and my other experiences was often jarring. The spouse was studying and training to become a neurobiologist at Cornell and Columbia medical schools. Her mentors were M.D.’s who lived in fancy apartments and townhouses, and many of her colleagues were also medical doctors pulling down nice salaries, while she and I could barely make ends meet. Sometimes I would go straight from work to a Park Avenue party, and the disparity between the two was almost incomprehensible. I was no more than five or ten miles from the courts and my clients’ neighborhoods, but it was worlds apart. I did not talk much about my work at these gatherings because I did not feel it could be grasped by the partygoers just as those I represented could not have comprehended the lives of these doctors and scientists.

          We defenders shared two mechanisms for coping with the work. The first was the more frequent and more creative use of “motherfucker” than even David Mamet could envision. The second was laughter. We all learned to tell jokes about the stuff we saw and did, jokes we knew could not be shared with others outside of our work. Jokes were made about almost anything and was the first reaction to nearly everything.

I remember only one time when we all felt that a joke could not cover the pain of what we experienced, and no one uttered a quip. Other attorneys and I were listening to a tape from a recorder worn by an undercover officer who was in a housing project corridor to make a drug buy. We knew what had happened, but it was still startling to hear the cop’s voice as he recognized a high school classmate as the seller from whom he was to make the buy. We then heard the officer yell, “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” The classmate had realized that his once-friend was now with the police and had pulled out a .357 magnum. We heard the shot which reverberated in the narrow hallway. We knew that the officer was hit. We could then barely hear his pleading voice get the words out again, “Don’t shoot.” Then we heard another shot which hit the cop in the chest right next to the recorder. We could hear the chilling sound of blood and air being sucked in and out of the gaping wound. And then the tape fell quiet. We public defenders looked at each other in silence. Even we couldn’t joke about what we had just heard.

That incident aside, however, I don’t think I ever laughed as much as when I was a public defender.

Aphorisms When Thinking About Trump

 “Racism is pervasive. The pretense that it belongs solely to poor people who talk slow lets the rest of us off the hook.” Rebecca Solnit, The Encyclopedia of Trouble and Spaciousness.

“Blessed is the man who, having nothing to say, abstains from giving us wordy evidence of the fact.” George Eliot.

“Only little people pay taxes.” Leona Helmsley.

“I’ll not listen to reason. . . . Reason always means what someone else has got to say.” Elizabeth Gaskell.

“To love oneself is the beginning of a life-long romance.” Oscar Wilde.

“It is a general error to imagine the loudest complainers for the public to be most anxious for its welfare.” Edmund Burke.

“Those who despise mankind believe themselves great men.” Marquis Luc de Clapiers Vauvenargues.

“You cannot have power for good without having power for evil too. Even mother’s milk nourishes murderers as well as heroes.” George Bernard Shaw.

“The popularity of a bad man is as treacherous as he is himself.” Pliny the Younger.

“One always speaks badly when one has nothing to say.” Voltaire.

“Hypocrisy is the most difficult and nerve-racking vice that any man can pursue; it needs an unceasing vigilance and a rare detachment of spirit. It cannot, like adultery or gluttony, be practiced at spare moments; it is a whole-time job.” Somerset Maugham.

“It is not in human nature to deceive others, for any long time, without, in a measure, deceiving ourselves.” J.H. Newman.

“One of the most striking differences between a cat and a lie is that a cat has only nine lives.” Mark Twain.

“We find it easy to believe that praise is sincere: why should anyone lie in telling us the truth?” Jean Rostand.

“A fool always finds someone more foolish than he is to admire him.” Nicolas Boileau.

“The first step towards madness is think oneself wise.” Fernando de Rojas.

“A man should not be ashamed to own that he has been in the wrong, which is but saying, in other words, that he is wiser today than he was yesterday.” Jonathan Swift.

“Nothing hath an uglier look to us than reason, when it is not on our side.” Marquess of Halifax.

“Those who never retract their opinions love themselves more than they love the truth.” Joseph Joubert.

“A bigot delights in public ridicule, for he begins to think he is a martyr.” Sydney Smith.

“There is nothing makes a man suspect much, more than to know little.” Sir Francis Bacon.

“Trump: His mother did not have him tested.” R. Jonakait.

Finding My Soul Again

I had loved him on TV, and now he was coming to the RKO Albee, just a few blocks from my apartment. The RKO Albee was one of those grand vaudeville/movie theaters built in the 1920s. It was said to be the second largest such theater in New York City after Radio City Music Hall. The Albee, by the time I made it there, was in serious decline. It was situated in downtown Brooklyn that once had many similar theaters, but downtown Brooklyn and large movie houses no longer remained fashionable. Shades of the grandeur that had once been in the Albee were evident, but seeing them took some faith and imagination, except for the bathrooms which remained magnificent.

Going to a movie there, however, was a bit creepy not only because of the auditorium’s deterioration, but also because of the size of the place. It is only a guess, but the theater held three or four thousand, and the first time I went there, for Diary of a Mad Housewife (who remembers Carrie Snodgrass? Richard Benjamin?), no more than a hundred of us were there. These numbers added up to a lot of empty seats, and an eerie feeling. (Diary remains in my mind not because I remember much about the movie, but because it was my first exposure to people talking back to the movie screen. With the size of the audience, it was easy to hear all the words of those who conversed with the on-screen characters.)

Now, however, it was not a movie coming to the RKO Albee, but James Brown. The Hardest Working Man in Show Business. The Godfather of Soul. Mr. Dynamite.

The wife and I got tickets. Good seats. Fourteenth row, just a little right of center. This time we did not feel as if we were alone in the Albee. I could not see an empty seat. We had a great view of the stage for the opening act, a comedian (perhaps, but I am not sure, Clay Tyson). The audience made it clear that it wanted him off the stage and James Brown on. I could only feel sorry for the comedian, and the clamor was made worse when James Brown with an entourage came down the side aisle. (Huh? The Albee did not have a stage door? Didn’t seem likely. Oh, you think that this was another ploy to whip up the crowd?)

Finally, the warmup was over, and there he was! Our good seats started to be less desirable. Not because anything happened to them, but because it seemed as if everybody who had been behind us left their seat and rushed towards the stage. Still we could see, but then all those seated in front of us stood up. Now to see we, too, had to stand, which we did. But then those in front of us stood on their seats so we had to stand on our seats. And finally, those in front of us stood on the arms of their seats, and soon, feeling precarious, we, too, were standing on the arms. And we saw a great show.

As we were leaving and I saw the crowd heading towards the exits, it hit me then that besides the spouse, I was not seeing another white person. I had not been uncomfortable before, but this realization made me a bit uneasy. Would all those thousands of black faces think there was something wrong with whites going to see James Brown? There was no reason to think so. The crowd was noisy and excited, but everybody was as polite as you could be in a crowd that size. But still, we seemed to be the only whites. Wasn’t there a good chance something bad might happen to us? At least this white had not confronted this situation before—one that many blacks no doubt had faced—of being the only one of his race in the place.

The Duffield theater was only a few blocks from the RKO Albee, but it had never been a palace, only a neighborhood movie house. It was there we saw The Great White Hope, with James Earl Jones and Jane Alexander. (I have had the privilege of seeing Jones on the stage a number of times, but from years ago the most memorable performances were Fences and Othello, the latter in a production with Christopher Plummer, Dianne Wiest, and, in a much smaller part, Kelsey Grammer.) The Great White Hope is the fictionalized account of the black boxer Jack Johnson. Once again, we seemed to be the only whites in the theater, but this time during the performance we were acutely aware of that. In the James Brown concert, our reactions were not much different from the rest of the audience, but that was not true at this movie. In this story about an extraordinary man’s confrontation with race and racism, there was a scene with a country preacher encouraging Johnson to prayer. The wife and I were moved, but, to our surprise, the scene brought derisive laughter from around us, the kind of laughter reserved for an Uncle Tom. I was acutely aware that I had not experienced what others in the audience had, and as we left the theater, I wondered if all those other exiting people were wondering what that white couple was doing there.

Part of the reason that we were in the minority at these theaters is that then, and for most of my years in Brooklyn, we have lived in neighborhoods where whites are in the minority. I regarded this as neither undesirable nor desirable. It was just a fact. Not surprisingly when I played basketball in one of the local schoolyards, which I did frequently before blowing out my knee in my 30s, as a white, I was in the minority.

It was an especially eclectic crowd at the hoop courts nearest to home. The neighborhood had a few whites, but also a sizeable group of Native Americans, who had been in construction in New York City, and were frequently, it seemed, on crutches. Their roots were from near Montreal, and when they found we were going in that direction for a vacation, they were quick to give advice about the places for food and drink on the way to Canada. There was also a group of Puerto Ricans that had been established in the neighborhood for quite some time having come to work at the then-functioning nearby Ex Lax factory. There were blacks with relatives in the Carolinas and some Argentinians who had migrated to South America from Italy before coming to the United States. As I said, an eclectic mix.

One day playing basketball, an argument broke out. I am not sure what triggered it, but soon I heard one kid yell an epithet at the other, “You’re white.” “No, I am not. You’re white.” Both were high schoolers. I knew one of them, whose mother was Puerto Rican and whose father was Native American. I did not know the other one, but he looked to be mixed race white and black. As the argument went on, I looked around and realized that I was the only white there. For a moment, with the “W” word being tossed around, I wondered whether I should be concerned but decided not to be. I was older and a fixture in that schoolyard and had done favors for the families of some of the other players. My guess is that I was not so much the white guy, as the old guy. I am not sure how the argument was settled, but it did not escalate into anything major. (This was not a typical incident. Although I played basketball for countless hours in the neighborhood, I don’t remember another time of something intended as a racial epithet.)

These incidents may have made me aware of my race, something that does not happen often to this white person, and probably not to most other whites either, but none made me feel deeply uncomfortable. Sometimes while jogging, however, I did feel threatened. I would often use my running as a commuting mode and sometimes that took me through parts of New York where my skin color made me stand out, including the South Bronx, then considered to be an especially dangerous neighborhood. I did feel conspicuous, and I sometimes heard what I only hoped were sarcastic remarks coming in my direction, but I soon learned behaviors that seemed to defuse potential problems. Almost always there was a mother with a baby in a stroller on the sidewalk. I would look intently into the stroller as I jogged closer, and when nearby I would smile and then look the mother in the eye and smile even more broadly. Almost always the mother smiled back, and her smile seemed to make others on the block relax. I would also look for young kids, usually boys, on the block. The ten year olds often did make veiled racial remarks, but my response was to urge them to race me to the corner. Most took up the challenge, and seeing me with a kid running neck and neck up the block also seemed to make others relax. (The kids invariably won. I want to say that I always let them win, but not always.)

These methods almost always worked when I ran in “bad” neighborhoods, but for some reason, I found they did not work to defuse any tensions in parts of Harlem, and mostly I stopped running there.

My running led to another incident that was not overtly racial but once again led me to think about my whiteness. I was running through a lily-white, affluent suburb north of New York City. I was not running in fancy running clothes, but, as was my wont, in cast-offs with hair that most would have thought needed a barber. Why affluent communities can’t afford sidewalks I don’t know, but as a result I was jogging on the side of the road. I was coming up to a nice car at a stop sign with a young woman in it. She saw me and the slightest look of panic came over her face. And then I heard the car locks click shut. I was amused. In the thousands of miles I had run, I was not aware of this happening before, but then I thought, I bet a lot of young black males have heard that clicking sound many, many times. And for some—think Ahmaud Arbery—much worse.

Bill Barr, Michael Flynn Meet James Brogan

          “A conservative is a liberal who got mugged.” I heard that bon mot many times decades ago when crime was higher in the country.

          Today we have conservatives who are newly-minted civil libertarians because law enforcement techniques, tactics, and procedures employed against many others have been used on those around Trump.

Many of us have been critics of these law enforcement practices for decades and generations. We weren’t joined by conservatives, but rather were attacked as menaces to law and order. When, however, federal agents used these techniques and tactics on conservatives, a cadre of conservatives now denounce these elements of law enforcement. You might say that it is like a liberal who gets mugged; when Trump people are investigated, conservatives become civil libertarians. However, I suggest that you take that conversion with a grain of salt at least until this concern is shown for people other than Trumpistas.

          The most recent conservative outcry concerns Michael Flynn, and their collective cry has been heard. The Department of Justice, not a court or jury, has dismissed the charges against Flynn.

Making knowingly false statements to investigating federal officers is a crime under 18 U.S.C. §1001. Flynn pled guilty to lying to FBI agents about his conversations with the Russian ambassador. That Flynn, represented by expensive, experienced attorneys, admitted his guilt is an inconvenient truth for the newly outraged. (As is the fact that Trump fired Flynn for lying to vice-president Pence.) All they can do is to latch on to Flynn’s present attorneys’ allegation that he pled guilty only because the government threatened prosecution of Flynn’s son if Flynn did not plead guilty.

          We do not know whether this threat was made; we only have Flynn’s attorneys’ word for it. But if it happened, it was not a tactic created for Flynn. I, along with other defense attorneys, have heard that threat from prosecutors more than once. Clients I represented were told many times that unless they pleaded guilt a spouse, a parent, a child, a brother, or sister would face criminal charges. I and my defense brethren often argued that this was coercive and reprehensible, but courts have long accepted the practice. And never once did I hear conservatives speak against this coercive tactic when used against ordinary folk.

          Mostly, however, the conservative commentators maintain that Flynn was treated unjustly because he was placed in a “perjury trap.” Flynn was asked about conversations with the Russian ambassador concerning sanctions that had been placed on Russia. He denied the conversation. He was questioned, as a writer for “American Spectator” said, “without the FBI warning him that it was an investigatory interview.” (Otherwise, it is ok to lie to the FBI?) The FBI apparently had a tape of the conversation in question, and they already knew the content of the conversation. A “National Review” editorial points out that they did not play the tape for Flynn but commenced “instead grilling him.” (Flynn, supposedly experienced in intelligence work, should have known that the ambassador was routinely tapped. Why, then, did he lie?) The “National Review” editors conclude that “it’s not clear what the FBI was doing besides hoping he’d lie.” A writer on foxnews.com said something similar: “In short, there was no law enforcement purpose for the Flynn interview. The purpose of the interview was to have Flynn lie and get him fired. . . . A perjury trap occurs when the facts are known to prosecutors and investigators and the only purpose of the interview is to catch the subject in a lie. This was a false statement trap since Flynn was not under oath, but the principle is the same.”

          The Justice Department under Attorney General William Barr heard the cries and dismissed Flynn’s case because his lie was not material, a requirement of the crime. (18 U.S.C. §1001(a)(3) requires that a statement (1) is false, (2) is material, (3) is knowingly and willfully made, and (4) concerns a matter within the jurisdiction of a federal department.) Courts have interpreted that materiality requirement broadly. The false statement does not have to actually influence the government’s actions; the lie, as one court put it, only has to have “a natural tendency to affect,” the federal agent’s decisions. If Flynn admitted to talking with the ambassador about the sanctions, there would have been follow-up questions: Were you acting on your own or were you following the advice or directions of others? Who knew about your conversation? When did you first discuss sanctions with a Russian official? Before the election? Did you make any promises to the Russians? Did they make any to you? Depending on the answers, agents would have reasonably taken further actions such as interviewing others. This did not happen because the falsehood ended those possibilities. In short, the lie had a “natural tendency to affect” the investigators.

          Why, then, was Flynn’s lie considered not material?  Attorney General William Barr was not entirely clear on this point when he gave an interview to CBS, but he seemed to say that the lie was immaterial because the interview was a perjury trap. He said the questioning was not a “bona fide counterintelligence investigation,” He maintained that the ongoing counterintelligence investigation was being shut down but continued: “And that when they heard about the phone call, which is—the FBI had the transcripts too—there’s no question as to what was discussed. The FBI knew exactly what was discussed. And General Flynn, being the former director of the [Defense Intelligence Agency] said to them, ‘You listen, you listen to everything. You know, you know what was said.’”

          If Flynn had told the FBI agents what Barr said he had, of course he should not have been prosecuted. He would not have been lying, but in fact he denied having the conversations and pleaded guilty, twice, to telling that willful, material, lie.

          But Barr went on to say: “There was no mystery about the call. . . . They kept [the investigation] open for the express purpose of trying to catch, lay a perjury trap for General Flynn. They didn’t warn him, the way we usually would be required by the Department. . . . [It] was not a legitimate counterintelligence investigation going on.”

          I, too, am concerned if the FBI’s goal was to get Flynn to lie. If so, the federal agents were seeking to create a crime, and law enforcement should not do that. But Barr and the Flynn commentators never mention that this is hardly the first time such a trap has been set. Bill Barr and Michael Flynn meet James Brogan.

          James Brogan was a union official in 1987 and 1988 when he accepted cash from a company whose employees were represented by Brogan’s union. The last transaction was in December 1988. Federal agents visited Brogan’s home on October 4, 1993, and asked for his cooperation in an investigation of the company. The agents told him that if he wished to cooperate, he should have his attorney contact the U.S. Attorney.

          The agents then asked if they could ask Brogan some questions, and he agreed. They asked if he had received any cash or gifts from the company. He said, “No.” Only after this response did the agents tell him that a search of the company had uncovered records showing the payments. He was then told that lying to federal agents in the course of an investigation was a crime, but Brogan, without his counsel being present, stuck to his answer.

          Brogan was convicted under 18 U.S.C. §1001, and the case made its way to the Supreme Court.

While lower courts had held that a simple false denial of guilt did not violate the statute—what is known as the “exculpatory no” doctrine–the Supreme Court, in a 1998 opinion by Justice Antonin Scalia joined by Chief Justice Rehnquist and Justices O’Connor, Kennedy, and Thomas, affirmed the conviction.

The Court first held that an “exculpatory no” was a false statement that fell within the literal terms of the statute. Brogan argued, however, that the “exculpatory no” doctrine was inspired by the Fifth Amendment, which says that people cannot be required to incriminate themselves. Brogan contended that the literal reading of §1001 violates the spirit of the Fifth Amendment since it presents the “cornered suspect” with the “‘cruel trilemma’ of admitting guilt, remaining silent, or falsely denying guilt.” Scalia scoffed: “This ‘trilemma’ is wholly of the guilty suspect’s own making, of course. An innocent person will not find himself in a similar quandary. . . And even the honest (sic)and contrite guilty person will not regard the third prong of the ‘trilemma’ (the blatant lie) as an available option.”

          Scalia went on to dismiss the contention that silence in an investigation is an “illusory” option because silence might be used against the person or because the interviewees might not know that they can remain silent: “In the modern age of frequent dramatized ‘Miranda’ warnings, that is implausible.”

Scalia finally considered the argument that §1001 can be an instrument of prosecutorial abuse but concluded that the remedy for that potentiality lies with Congress to redraft the statute. (Section 1001 was amended after Brogan’s conviction, but the amendments did not address the “exculpatory no” issue.)

          Justice Ginsburg, along with Justice Souter, voted to affirm the conviction because Brogan’s false denial clearly fell within the terms of the statute. They wrote separately to point out “the extraordinary authority Congress, perhaps unwittingly, has conferred on prosecutors to manufacture crimes.” She also noted that if Brogan had counsel at the interview, the lawyer would have advised Brogan to amend his answer when the federal agents told him that they had evidence that he had received money from the company.

The Brogan case shows that the Flynn situation that has provoked conservative outrage and an extraordinary Justice Department action is hardly unique. That courts before Brogan case had carved out an “exculpatory no” exception to §1001 indicates that similar law enforcement techniques had been used many times before Flynn was interviewed. Indeed, it has been a common law enforcement tactic: Ask the person about what is already known. If the person admits to the deeds, he might be turned into a cooperating witness. If he denies it, prosecute him under §1001.

If the Flynn situation was egregious, Brogan’s encounter was even more so. Flynn was not told that the agents were conducting an investigatory questioning of him or, as Barr notes, was not given any warning. Barr indicates that such a prelude is standard policy, but Brogan was not told them either. Indeed, the agents were actively misleading Brogan when they only told him they were investigating the company. They seemed to want his guard to fall.

          Flynn was not played the tape of his conversation with the ambassador, but assuming Flynn has even a modicum of sophistication about intelligence activities (surely the president would not appoint someone who was incompetent), he should have known the possibility that such a tape existed, and Barr indicates that he did. (If so, why did Flynn blatantly lie?) Similarly, the agents did not tell Brogan before the questioning that they had documentary evidence of the payments, but this was even worse than the Flynn situation because Brogan could not have reasonably known about the documents.

          The Barr and the conservative commentators maintain that the point to the FBI’s actions was to get Flynn to lie, and, therefore, the questioning was not a bona fide investigation. (Have they asked the agents what their motives were?) The Brogan Court did not speculate on the motives of the federal agents, but those government officials had good reasons to want Brogan to lie. The usual statute of limitations for federal crimes is five years, which means that a person must be charged within five years from the time of a crime’s commission or he cannot be prosecuted. That period had run out on the earlier bribes the company paid Brogan and was fast elapsing on the last payment. However, when Brogan lied, a new crime was committed that would not only permit its prosecution but also allow evidence at his trial of all the payments, something that the agents undoubtedly knew. Surely, they had reasons to get him to lie.

          The Supreme Court in 1998 recognized that the statute was susceptible to abuse and, as Ginsburg said, could be used by law enforcement to manufacture crimes. But, as Scalia noted, lying is not the answer. If the falsehood was not appropriate for Brogan, how could the sophisticated Flynn think that he had a right to lie? If silence was the right answer for Brogan, as Scalia indicated, surely it was for Flynn, too.

The Justices of the Supreme Court said that any remedy had to come from Congress by amending §1001. That was over twenty years ago. I know of no conservative civil libertarians who rose up protesting about Brogan’s conviction and jail sentence. I know of no conservative civil libertarians who have proposed changes to the statute to prevent possible abuses. Where have all those conservative civil libertarians been all this time? I guess they were quietly waiting for the right moment, waiting for Michael Flynn to come along.

Bill Barr also told CBS: “I was concerned that people were feeling there were two standards of justice in this country. . . . There’s only one standard of justice. . . . It doesn’t matter what political party you’re in, or you know, whether you are rich or poor. We will follow the same standard for everyone.” If this is not just empty rhetoric, and if the Flynn decision was not based on politics, and if he truly wants one justice for all, we should expect that he will undertake a review of all §1001 prosecutions. And, although I have no idea of where James Brogan is or whether is even alive, Barr should be considering advocating a pardon for him.

          Oh yes, about liberals being transformed into conservatives when mugged. I have been robbed twice at knifepoint. And I am strongly anti-conservative. Perhaps more so now than I have ever been.

          And, really, why did Flynn lie?

(The next post will by Friday, May 15.)

Birthday Snippets

          My birthday is this weekend. Is a celebration due because I have survived, in this case, another 366 days? I understand celebrating a high school or college graduation, a new job, a wedding, a retirement, or other events when a person has actually accomplished something. All I have done to have this birthday is to stay alive. Perhaps today that alone is noteworthy, but that does not separate me out from all I see around me.

          “In each of us there is a little of all of us.” Lichtenberg, Aphorisms, 1764-99.

          My birthday celebrations have generally been quiet affairs—no more than immediate family members with modest or no gifts but birthday cards, some sarcastic and some soppy. Several times the spouse, whose birthday is five days after mine, and I have been on a trip when my birthday occurred. On one of them, the guide gave me a small stuffed donkey. He said, with a smile, that it represented the burdens a man and husband must carry. I did not ask about his marriage.

“Life is one long process of getting tired.” Samuel Butler, Notebooks.

I don’t think about my age much, but I do know I can’t do many things as easily as I once did. When I was young, I did not ever think that it would be hard to cut my toenails or to get up off the floor. Sometimes a name or inconsequential fact seems stuck between my brain and my tongue. But I believe that I think as well as I ever did and that I laugh as much and make others laugh as often as I did when I was younger.

“Of all days, the day on which one has not laughed is surely the most wasted.” Nicolas Chamfort.

I know that I can’t do all the things I once did. I can’t run or play basketball or tennis for hours as in the past, but I can read and write as I always have.

Old joke: “Doctor, do you think sex over 70 can be dangerous?” “Absolutely! Pull over to the side of the road first.”

          For a long time, I believed that I was born on Mother’s Day. I think that I was told that by the mother, and my birthday does periodically fall, as it does this year, on that holiday. But in fact I was born on a Thursday. I was disappointed when I learned that.

          “If evolution really works, how come mothers only have two hands? Milton Berle.

          I am the youngest of three children. I have an older brother and sister. I was told by my mother that if abortion had been legal back then that I would not have been born. Even so, the siblings maintain that I was the favorite child. I agree with that. And I believe that a woman should have the right to choose.

“If men could get pregnant, abortion would be a sacrament.” Florence Kennedy.

I will worry about my age when I no longer want to learn; when I no longer want to see what each day will bring; when I no longer enjoy a full moon or marvel at a star-studded sky or a beautiful sunset. Or a beautiful woman.

Old joke: “Doc, do I really have to give up wine, women, and song?” “Not at all. Sing as much as you like.”

          There has been one constant at every stage of my life: I have always been a terrible singer.

The Hanging in the Museum

I hope that the Newseum opens again. The interactive museum dedicated to the history of news gathering and communications closed its building, which has since been sold, in Washington, D.C. and says it is looking for a new site. The Washington facility had many theaters and galleries, but it had one major flaw for a museum in D.C.

Many Washington museums and institutions are owned by the federal government and have free admission. For someone like me who likes museums but has a limited attention span in them, this is great because I can pop into the National Gallery or the National Portrait Museum for a half hour, get something out of my visit, and move onto something else in Washington.

New York, too, has many museums. A couple of them are federally supported and are free, but most are not and charge admission fees, often steep ones. If I have to pay $20 to walk in, I feel as though I should spend several hours inside, which is often longer than I can concentrate. As a result, I don’t go to New York museums as often as I ought.

 The Newseum is private and understandably charged adults an admission fee. I guess this was not sufficient or the competition with other Washington’s museums was too much. The Newseum ran a deficit, and apparently concluded it had to move out of D.C.

At least on my only visit a few years ago, however, the Newseum held my attention for quite a while. It had many permanent exhibits. I saw lots of television clips of famous news events that I remembered although few of the many visiting school kids seemed to have an inkling of much of this history.

When I was there, the Newseum also had a fascinating special exhibit on the news of Lincoln’s assassination. A New York Herald reporter in Washington almost immediately learned of the shooting and started sending reports back to New York by telegraph, and the museum had copies of the special editions that the Herald immediately published. I may have thought that news moved relatively slowly in 1865, but the Herald turned out seven special editions starting with that fatal night and through the afternoon of the next day. Readers in New York could read about the Washington events in New York only a few hours after they had happened, including the confirmation of Lincoln’s death.

          However, I did get a little testy at this exhibit. A man, presumably a teacher or chaperone, was with four teenage boys. He pointed out to them a picture of a group of hooded people hanging by their necks from a scaffold, a photograph taken in July 1865, showing the execution of John Wilkes Booth and others involved in the conspiracy. With a smirk, the man told the kids, “That that is how we ought to do executions now.” He paused and continued, “Now it is all antiseptic with needles. We should see the executions.”

I don’t usually intercede in other people’s conversation, but I did in this one. I told the boys, “That might be so, but it is widely thought that one of those executed was innocent.” I knew I was overstating the case. The trial, held before a military tribunal of nine men, was not a model of fairness and decorum, but a fairer statement would have been that many people have significant doubts about the guilt of Mary Surratt who was one of those hanged and the first woman executed by the United States. While Surratt ran a boardinghouse where some of the conspirators met, the evidence that she was part of the conspiracy was not nearly as strong as it was against the others. She, however, was a Confederate supporter, and the Union army court easily — perhaps too easily — found her to be a member of the plot. Even so, five of the nine judges petitioned President Johnson for clemency for her. As the picture graphically showed, it was not granted. And historians since have debated the justness of her hanging.Even though I knew that I was ignoring historic subtleties, I still spoke about her possible innocence. I thought that those schoolkids should hear something besides the bloodthirstiness of the man trying to be cool. And perhaps at least one of them might try to find out more about Mary Surratt.But as I walked away, I realized that more than just the fate of Surratt bothered me. Whenever I see a picture of an American hanging, I always think of all the many photographs I have seen documenting America’s shameful history of public lynchings.

Snippets

          How come I never hear of low-fructose corn syrup?

          I saw someone described with an office job as “a freelance poet.” Are there salaried poets? Who employs them? How much do they make?

“No one who likes Yeats is capable of human intimacy.” Sally Rooney, Conversations with Friends.

          Double your pleasure. Try starting mystery novels in the middle. That way you can wonder not only how the story ends but how it began.

          Sodom gives us the word “sodomy.” What does Gomorrah give us? Gomorrhea?  

          I miss baseball and was wondering recently where some of its locutions come from. A batter makes out but gets a hit. (Sometimes a character in a movie or book says that a batter made a hit, but that is supposed to be funny. Usually it indicates that the speaker has not mastered English or baseball.)

And where does the phrase “make out” in the amorous sense come from? Surely it is not derived from baseball. Though one does get to first base…..

I know that “battology” does not refer to baseball, but it should. “Ted Williams really understood battology” makes immediate sense.

Just so you shouldn’t have to ask again,

He was the kind of guy that if he said

Something and you were the kind of guy that said

You can say that again, he’d say it again.

                    Howard Nemerov.

President Trump’s “good friend” North Korean dictator Kim Jong Un had not been seen for a while. Near the beginning of that period, Trump told the South Korean president that he had just received a “nice” letter from the North Korean leader. North Korea almost immediately retorted that it had sent no such letter. Remember when you would have automatically taken the word of the American president over the word of a North Korean dictatorship?

Supposedly in order to battle Covid-19, Trump suspended some travel to the United States for sixty days. I was reminded of the 1965 blackout in New York City when Johnny Carson the next day reported that “Mayor Wagner leapt into action and suspended alternate side of the street parking.”

It has been a cold spring, which taught me, yet again, that you should check the damper before you light the fire.

On my shelf is a copy of the National Book Award winning A Frolic of His Own by William Gaddis. Except on the spine the title is given as “A Frolic of His of His (sic) Own.” Does this make my volume valuable? I am willing to part with it.

Post-Pandemic Dispositions (concluded

In addition to all the possible institutional changes that the pandemic might bring, I have also been wondering whether the pandemic crisis will alter collective attitudes. For example, we are learning how dependent we are on those who fill what are now called “essential” jobs, work that often pays little above the poverty level. Will these workers gain more lasting respect from the rest of us? Many of these essential workers—not just the clerks and delivery people or those who work in food processing plants and agricultural fields, but also doctors, nurses, and other healthcare professionals—are immigrants. Will this change attitudes about immigration and immigration reform?

With schools closed and children at home consigned to online learning and home schooling, will we appreciate teachers more?

On the other hand, will mass unemployment and concerns about a recovery make us think that we have overvalued education? More education will not aid a swift recovery or get the unemployed quickly back to work. For decades America has had faith in the educational system to create opportunities. Even in non-crisis times, this has not produced schools and colleges that work for everyone, and it takes years for the opportunities to emerge even for those for whom the educational system works. Economic recovery needs a faster timeline. Nicholas Lemann in The Big Test: The Secret History of the American Meritocracy maintains that America did well when it committed massive central-government resources to large enterprises such as the Panama Canal, the space program, highways, other transportation initiatives, and water projects.  But this kind of spending is out of fashion and has been opposed by many. Will we see a change in that entrenched attitude?

On that front, it is striking that Congress quickly and overwhelmingly passed and the president signed not one but two recovery bills. Republicans and Democrats may continue to dicker over further recovery legislation, but all agree that the federal government needs to aid in a recovery and perhaps in stimulating the economy. This is a major change from the financial meltdown of a dozen years ago. Only a minority of Republicans voted for bailouts of financial institutions even though Republican George W. Bush was President and proposed them. A few years later with the country in a deep recession, not one Republican voted for the stimulus package of the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act, even though it was festooned with tax cuts. Of course, Barack Obama was then President, and partisanship was more important than country for many Republicans. As Adam Tooze in Crashed: How a Decade of Financial Crises Changed the World reports, because Obama needed all the Democrats for passage, the stimulus got whittled down to satisfy conservative Democrats, and it was less than the U.S. economy needed.

The coronavirus pandemic has produced a different reaction–overwhelming support for federal recovery actions now. Because these initial steps are unlikely to be sufficient, will Republicans continue to support federal efforts, or will they revert to opposing governing?

Adam Tooze maintains that while it was not sufficiently large, that Obama stimulus still had a substantial positive effect on the economy, but Tooze also notes that it did not have the good public relations of the New Deal programs. Consequently, Obama did not build Democrats-for-life that the New Deal did. Will the pandemic bring what the Great Recession did not—new members-for-life for one of the parties?

At least right now, we do seem to have a changed attitude about the government’s role in ameliorating the economic effects of the pandemic, but might other attitudes about governing also alter? In some circles, the government has been uniformly bashed in the last decades, but the pandemic demonstrates that we need strong government, at least in some areas, staffed with knowledgeable, effective people upon whom we can rely. Will we remember that lesson?

The pandemic shows that free market forces alone should not be relied upon for the manufacture and distribution of essential drugs, medical devices, and protective equipment. Will attitudes about the balance between government and the free market shift?

Since World War II, health insurance for most Americans has been tied to employment, but when there is massive unemployment, this link becomes broken. Will we rethink this aspect of health insurance?

Will our attitudes change about those who do not have jobs and how to aid them?

Will our attitudes shift about retail shopping, and if so, what might that mean for the economy?

Will our attitudes shift about the methods we use to vote?

We are hoping and waiting for a vaccine. If it comes, will it change attitudes within and about the anti-vaccine crowd? Will it change attitudes about preventive healthcare in general?

But one thing is not being changed. Different segments of the country still latch onto different sets of “facts” and accept conspiracies that suit their preconceptions. Michiko Kakutani states that in the nineteenth century P.T. Barnum learned that not only was it easy to deceive the American public, but the public enjoyed being deceived as long as it was being entertained. Many have now learned that it is easy to deceive many people as long as the deceptions rile them up. That does not seem to be changing.

But I will make one prediction about the pandemic of which I am reasonably confident: Fewer of us will take toilet paper for granted.

Post-Pandemic Dispositions (continued)

 Our politics, of course, have always brought divisions. We did, after all, have a civil war, and we had adamant opposition to FDR, Kennedy, Reagan, and many other political leaders. Even so, it feels as if our politics are more divided than ever. In one sense it is because the dividing lines are more partisan than ever. For a long stretch, the two major parties were more ideologically diverse within their own ranks than they are now. When each party encompassed conservatives, moderates, and liberals, party discipline was impossible, and coalitions were common across party lines. For example, the landmark Civil Rights Act of 1964 was passed with both Democratic and Republican votes. Robert G. Kaiser in Act of Congress: How America’s Essential Institution Works, and How It Doesn’t, a fascinating study of the passage of the Dodd-Frank Act in the wake of the financial crisis, states that this cooperating dynamic changed when Newt Gingrich and his team in 1995 put a premium on party discipline.

 This bipartisan divide can be seen starkly in the demise of the conference committee.  Almost always when one House of Congress passes a bill and then the other does, there are differences between the two bills. For a hundred years or more, a conference committee then sought to reconcile the varying provisions which would then become the law. That committee consisted of representatives from each chamber and would include members from each party roughly in proportion to each party’s membership in each House. Gingrich did not support this traditional conference committee because it gave a role to minority Democrats, whom he had demonized to get a Republican majority. He insisted instead that the Senate negotiate differences in passed bills with him and the rest of House leadership. When the Democrats regained the House in 2006, they followed Gingrich’s methods. In 2007-08, only 2% of bills that became law went through a conference committee.

Gerrymandering has also intensified the partisan divide. Gerrymandering has been with us since the opening days of the Republic. For example, Patrick Henry disdained James Madison and had Virginia gerrymandered seeking to deprive Madison a seat in the first Congress. (Madison still won.)

Originally gerrymandering was about individuals. Legislative districts were manipulated in order to have a particular person elected or defeated, but that changed over time to ensure that the member of a particular party, no matter who the individual candidate was, would win the seat. Kaiser sees that change starting in California in 1982. By 2000, 300 of 435 House seats were safe for one party or the other. In a safe district, a candidate does not have to appeal to the other side or even to the center to get elected. The candidate merely must win the party’s primary. When elected, members can indulge their ideology without political retribution. Partisan divides increase.

The political divide has hardened not only because of increased partisanship and gerrymandering but also because of the philosophy of modern Republicans. As Kaiser states, since President Reagan, the Republican party has not believed in governance and has sought to diminish the role of government as an end in itself. Conservatism no longer means seeking legislation based on conservative principles; it means diminishing government. Period. Obamacare is an example. Trump and other conservatives ran on repealing Obamacare and replacing it with something “better.” Obamacare certainly has flaws, and health insurance certainly could use improvements, but the Republicans never dug into conservative principles to propose a better system. The Republicans just wanted to end Obamacare seeing it simply as more government.

We can also see the Republican modern principles in the cry against regulations. Republicans do not propose regulations, which after all have the goal of protecting the general welfare, based on conservative principles. The goal is just to wipe out regulations and to get rid of government oversight of…well, just about anything. The recent Republican party has primarily stood for lower taxes, a strategy aimed at “starving the beast,” and the appointment of “conservative” judges with a goal that the courts will strike down various regulations and legislation to lessen government involvement.

When one party has the primary goal of not governing, the two parties are simply not involved in the same governing game. Filibusters illustrate. The filibuster is a device to prevent government from operating. It has long existed, but until recently it was rarely employed. There were fifteen Senate cloture motions, or a filibuster, in 1970, and in the1980s, for a two-year Congress, there were no more than eighty. But after the Democrats regained the Senate, cloture motions leapt to 139 in 2007-08 and to 137 in 2009-10. As Kaiser states, Mitch McConnell, the Republican leader of the Senate, “adopted the threat of a filibuster as a basic tactic.” “Let’s not govern” really should have been the motto.

          Might the pandemic, however, change or break some of our political, social, and cultural divides? The coronavirus outbreak is a communal event in that it affects nearly all Americans in their regular behavior and will for a significant period. Yes, the pandemic’s epicenter is now New York. Yes, it has affected black and poor communities harder than others. Yes, the rich have more opportunities to mitigate the effects. Yes, there are orchestrated demonstrations against stay-at-home directives. But the attempts to control the spread of Covid-19 has affected and will continue to affect a vast majority of the country. Although the effects may vary, it touches the rich and the poor; the highly and less educated; the young and old; the Catholic, the Baptist, and the areligious; the immigrant and the native born; those with children and those without; the conservative, the liberal, and the apolitical.

The effects have not been a mere minor disruption of lives. Businesses, schools, and churches are closed. Unemployment has skyrocketed; education has had to take new forms; travel for many has ceased; social distancing and lockdowns prevent gatherings of families and friends and the suspension of movies, concerts, and sports. While we can hope that conditions will improve so that some restrictions can be eased, the pandemic will continue to affect us until a vaccine is developed and the vast majority of Americans are vaccinated, which seems likely to be more than a year away.

Already there is much speculation about the lasting changes this will bring, and which businesses, nonprofits, and colleges will not survive and which will come out stronger and whether the work-at-home phenomenon and online learning will transform future work and education patterns.

(concluded May 1)