Formula 1, Babies 0

A friend of mine gave birth to her second child last month. She would not be pleased with the following story, which I found on Motley Fool:

According to an ABC News report published last Friday, the Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) first postponed, then watered down, a series of TV ads promoting breast-feeding of infants -- at the request of the infant formula industry.

The ads, slated to air six months ago, originally conveyed in stark terms the increased risks of bottle-feeding: respiratory, urinary tract, and ear infections during infancy; asthma and diabetes during childhood; high blood pressure and obesity in adulthood. Most notably, the ads reported that infants who were not breast-fed were more prone to leukemia than breast-fed babies.

To make a long story short, executives in the $8 billion dollar industry of infant formula manufacturing became alarmed. They sent their reps to lobby Washington, where Health and Human Services Secretary Tommy Thompson gave them a private audience. Halliburton, anyone?

Breast-feeding advocates - you know, people like mothers and doctors - sought to meet with Thompson, but they were turned down. You can read more at the full ABC News article, which also provides a link to the "thank you" letter written by Clayton Yuetter, formula lobbyist and former GOP chair. "Dear Tommy", the letter begins. Rather curdling, I think.

At least several of the public service ads aired, at the beginning of June. But the watered-down versions may not be enough to counter the millions of dollars spent promoting infant formula in hospitals and doctor's offices, something that formula mankers Abbott Labs and Bristol-Myers Squibb honed into an art form while pushing their pharmacuetical products. Can we educate a new generation of mothers and give newborns a healthy start? We don't know, not until the babies grow up either granted or deprived of the substantial protections that evolution has bestowed on human beings through mother's milk.

Speaking of protections, I think this sad incident exemplifies a weakness of democratic capitalism. First, in cases of public health the benefits are often great but diffuse. Clean air, clean water, breast milk, etc. However, in our economy the man-made sources of damage are often controlled by a few or at least organized very well. So the organized few can act to preserve their flow of profits, at the expense of the diffuse many, who in a democracy should win. Until very large groups can organize around their common interests (parents, immigrants, skateboarders) and transcend internal differences, the many will not prevail over the few.

Second, the people who lack political resources are the vulnerable elements of society, and hence the ones who need it the most. And I cannot think of anyone more vulnerable, or less blameworthy, than an infant. Obviously the infant has an interest in his or her own health, but in most political systems the infant has no voice. Congressional districts count infants. Why not elections, at least in such child-relevant areas as health care and education. Yes, a parent votes, but those issues concern both parent and child. Parents manage their children's money and lives, why not their votes too?

Finally, has anyone noticed that there's no breast milk lobby? Yes, doctors, scientists and parents advocate for it, but nobody will spend big money to do so. That's because there's no money in winning an argument for a product that is, essentially, free. You don't have to be a socialist to acknowledge that the best things in life are free. A socialist might say that good things and services should be free, or at low cost to everyone. But what I mean by free things are gifts of nature, like air and water and seeds that won't Terminate. Rather than adding to things we want, some folks try to take away what we already have and sell it back to us. Wouldn't the latter be detrimental to human health and welfare? And isn't that just the sort of job where a Secretary of Health and Human Services would lead the way? Dear Tommy . . . do your job!

Until we start fighting for those things that are free, we'll keep losing them, and the loss will feel very precious indeed.

Oregon Trails

On Friday, I dusted the cobwebs from my bike and rode along PCH to San Clemente. I hadn't planned to make it there, but I felt like going after reaching Laguna Beach, and then Dana Point. The weather was unusually cool for June, and the cloud cover was helpful. I made a number of short detours, the first at my friend Albert's place in a new development, Oak Creek, near I-405 and Jeffrey Rd. His neighbor Rory spotted me, and when he saw my bike, showed me the three he owned and talked up a storm about local trails and such. He handed me a bunch of maps from his car, mostly Southern California stuff but there was one of Central Oregon.

"Why Oregon?" I asked him, curious. I knew he was a LA native.

"Oh, I went to Mt. Batchelor." For skiing, of course.

I was about to close the map when I saw in the small sectioned-off, right-hand corner, a map of the Mackenzie River Trail - without question, the most beautiful place I've ever biked, in the most beautiful state I've ever been.

Here's one of the last letters I wrote in Oregon, to one who had left recently.

"I am glad to see that you are alive and well! Tanya and I were a bit worried. We were Portland this past weekend and met up with an old friend of mine, Linda. We saw elaborate sand castles in Pioneer Square. Walked around Saturday Market. Drove along the Columbia Gorge, which Linda had never seen. Visited Hood River for the Cherry Festival. It was late-afternoon but the farmer at Alice's, a third-generation Japanese American, took us in his cart for a tour of the pear and cherry farm. Had no idea so many varieties besides Bing and Rainier existed. We sampled extra-large Lapins, and slightly bitter Black Republicans. (Wonder why they call 'em that.) The sky was clear blue, except for the giant clouds massing around Mt. Hood. I'll miss Oregon."

"Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right..."

Today I returned to my main job-like activity for the past two plus months: working as a small-claims mediator at Orange County Superior Court. It's nice to be active again, using the Alternate Dispute Resolution skills I learned during law school, and providing a needed service to the community.

I have mediated or co-mediated about 30 cases, reaching a settlement in all but one. Business disputes, landlords and tenants, creditors and debtors, ex-boyfriends and girlfriends - I've handled the whole range. I like the business cases most (contractors, credit unions, etc). That may seem counterintuitive for a "fuzzy" like me, but in fact such disputes only involve money and are the least stressful, for the parties, and hence for me. Those people tend to be nice and are almost always professional. Today a man agreed to repay several hundred dollars mistakenly deposited into his bank account - the second time this mix-up has landed on my lap. Apparently, he spent this money by the time the bank caught its mistake.

Since mediation is voluntary, almost everyone who participates is civil - as they chose to negotiate an agreement with my help, rather than argue their case before a judge (like they had intended). In fact, roughly half of my "successful" resolutions are worked out in principle by the parties in the hallways before they talk to me. That happened today. So my awesome success rate has little to do with my abilities as a mediator, which are just adequate enough not to impede them from helping themselves.

Even though I've chosen the path of law, I believe that the law often interferes with justice and fairness - not only in its "objective" meaning, but also in its shared "subjective" meaning. The former is easy to understand. By the latter, I mean that the law may take a dispute out of the hands of the two parties. Mostly for the good of society, which wants to discourage a plaintiff or victim from resorting to "self-help" (i.e., me and a few buddies). And if the original act was criminal...

However, in some cases, two people or organizations might want to resolve their dispute without going through civil litigation. Neighbors, family members, parents sharing custody of children, people with long-term business relationships benefit from sitting down and resolving their argument without the time, cost, and emotional strife that lengthy litigation or even small-claims court, can bring. Even a small formal step such as being served by a stranger is off-putting to many people. And personally, I enjoy being the neutral, the third-party who brings people together, helps them realize what their shared interests are, and leaves them on friendly terms with each other, sometimes even a hug between former friends.

Mediation holds natural incentives for both plaintiff and defendant (if you're wondering why they'd show up). For the defendant, it's a way to resolve their situation without a court judgment. They may not owe the whole amount, but most of the time they owe something - and if a judge enters that "something" against them, it will damage their credit rating for years to come. For the plaintiff, payment is more likely if the defendant helped fashion the payment plan himself, as the court does not assist plaintiff in collecting judgment.

For myself, I need to purge from my system the emotional traces from the more complicated cases. Sometimes I don't realize how a certain defendant or plaintiff or broken relationship has stayed in my mind. And I could do better to find ways to find release - other than reading, which if it involves the news does the opposite! Even something simple like treating myself to ice cream, or catching an afternoon matinee alone - I can't recall the last time I did either. Sounds fairly pitiful, no? Striking a steady balance between extremes: if I can help others do it, surely I can help myself.

Weenie Roast notes

My homeboy Will Farrell (Class of '86) made a surprise appearance at the KROQ Weenie Roast and spoke to the nubile masses last night:

"I'm Will Farrell. (Loud cheers.) I'm...one of you. I grew up in Irvine, beautiful Irvine, California. (Scattered cheers.) I remember all the times I used to sneak in here... I have some bad news. Our next guest couldn't make it tonight. That's right, I'm sorry to say you won't be able to see Crazytown. Come, my lady. Come come, my lady. You're my butterfly, sugar, baby..."

Then he introduced the scheduled performers, the Beastie Boys.

Weenie Roast is an ten band, 11-hour affair... So I will not try to sum up.

The afternoon kicked off on the side stage with Story of the Year, a young and spirited five-member band. Oh, how young they were!
They were followed by Yellowcard, New Found Glory, and Hoobastank.

Then it moved to the main stage, which was nice as it allowed you to hear all the bands, with The Killers, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Modest Mouse, Cypress Hill, The Hives, Velvet Revolver, Bad Religion, Beastie Boys, The Strokes.

I'd write more, but I must return to life as a (relatively) responsible adult now and turn in early.

Devil's advocate?

I interviewed with the Orange County Public Defender's office on Wednesday afternoon. They asked me the same eight questions they posed to every other applicant, which seems fitting for an employer concerned with procedural fairness and substantive justice. Believe me, that structure is highly unusual for interviews in the rest of the legal world. Which, in its own way, makes sense too. The last question the two senior deputy public defenders asked me: how do you justify defending people who often do not have the law or facts on their side (who, in effect, probably committed the crime with which they are charged)? Why, that's a very good question I said.

I also said a few other things. A public defender is someone that our system provides to represent the accused's interests, just as we have prosecutors in the District Attorney's office to represent the interests of society at large. Yes, many people accused of a crime are in fact guilty of some wrongdoing, and most of the time it's pretty obvious. But the PD's job is also to see the defendant fairly treated in his sentence, as well. Because someone has committed a crime doesn't mean he gives up his rights, or that society can throw the book at him. The prosecutor isn't looking out for the defendant, that's not his job. That's the public defender's job. If the PD couldn't do that, the DA's role would be incredibly unfair. Instead, in our adversary system, the prosecutor pushes with all the resources of the state. And the defender is ethically bound to push back.

For two years I taught and tutored students in Oakland public high schools. I wanted to work there because those were the kids who lacked the money, education, and family background to do well in math. Hence, they were the kids who needed my able services the most. I would say the same with public defense. Individuals who need public defenders can't afford to choose their own lawyer. They often come from the same socioeconomic groups as my students, and deserve the same degree of help we believe those students ought to have. Mind you, my students weren't all angels - sure you've got poor neighborhoods and mediocre teachers and lack of family help but many kids are just lazy or unfocused - as at any other school. Let's not hold their poverty and background against them too.

The public defender defends not just the person but also the rights of the accused, and those rights belong to us all. And when those rights are threatened, so are we all. In fact, since indigent criminal defendants are the most vulnerable elements in society (without friends or wealth), indigent defense is the most likely area where the state will cut corners to a "just result" and in the process short-circuit our system of rights. Democracy is a cloth that frays around the edges, and affects those who live on the edges of society first and most often. We see examples of fraying today not only in murder and rape cases, but also in the area of terrorism and war crimes.

And so I ask you... Would you ever work for the public defender? Why or why not? If so, would you ever draw the line at representing someone? A murderer? Rapist? Child molester? What do you think?

Houston City Limits

In the summer of 2001, I chose to take an internship in Houston, Texas, rather than travel to China with my friends.

Looking back at that summer, I realize it was the last time I could really choose where I wanted to be. Shanghai or Houston? The comparative merits of each city aside, I didn't realize the key word wasn't either. It was the word in the middle. Or. I had to choose one or the other. Instead I chose one, thinking I could have Houston now, and save Shanghai for later. Well, later is now. And now my horizons seem to be the four walls of my room, and soon the four carpeted panels of my cubicle. What a thing to have hoped for!

But while in public I express regret at my choice, in my heart there's no other place in the world I'd rather explore than my own frontiers, this land made for you and me. And so I drove from the Redwood forests to the Gulfstream waters, because Texas is a big part of America, and in the courts, clubs, and strip malls of Houston I would learn a little bit about how things worked, or why they didn't.

What did I learn that summer?

I learned that muffalettas are the best-kept, tastiest secret in American sandwiches. I learned that bourbon and coke is a great drink. And then there's Mexican food and barbeque and country fried steaks... Houston, you have a weight problem!

I learned it IS the humidity - oh, the humidity! I learned to fear mosquitoes. I learned to love the Gulf of Mexico, which is warm and teeming with fish.

I learned to say "y'all" and "a little sumpin' sumpin'. I learned to do the electric slide... I learned that some people still fly confederate flags, but even rednecks call those people rednecks. I learned that Houston loves a good bookstore more than Orange County, and young Houstonians like pot every bit as much as their counterparts in Oregon.

I learnedthat a judge is a very nice thing to be. I learned that immigrants still come from France and the Netherlands as well as India and Mexico. I learned you can major in animal science and still become governor of Texas.

I learned to love the songs of Robert Earl Keen and Kelly Joe Phelps. I learned that "King of the Hill" is reality TV. I learned there still exists in spirit, such a thing as the "Republic of Texas".

Elsewhere in the blog world

I read far more than I write online, which isn't saying much. But the blogs I choose to read do say a great deal worth reading. Here are some of this week's sightings:

From 1982-1984, the White House spreads a new infection: the AIDS joke.

Thanks to Insomnia for bringing this callous, irresponsible behavior to my attention. I'm old enough to remember the atmosphere of permissive ignorance about AIDS and HIV, but too young to have recalled these comments firsthand. The 1980s seem to be a forgotten decade in terms of what really went down. Statements like those by Larry Speakes should wake Gen Y types to our recent history. We often take the tolerance and pluralism of the 1990s for granted.


Josh Marshall follows up on his observations about Republican attempts to denigrate the non-white vote. I discussed examples of this sorry behavior yesterday. Today, Marshall responds to the WSJ "Best of the Web's" attempt to pooh-pooh the significance of the racial voting gap. Marshall correctly notes that the WSJ site ignores the real question, "Why do blacks vote so disproportionately for Democrats?" It's not as if Republicans could win over half of the black vote. If they did, it would be the result of changing policies and attitudes, which might alienate a huge chunk of the Southern white vote (on which the modern Republican Party depends for its margins. Anyways, Josh Marshall says it better so read him!


Finally, a shout-out to Haggai's Place: Mr. Elitzur keeps tabs on both American and Israeli politics with similar detail and insight. I came across the blog of my fellow quiz-bowl alum last fall, in trying to find an old New Yorker piece on Wesley Clark.

One down, more to go...

For those who haven't heard: Stephanie Herseth was elected to Congress in South Dakota. Herseth, a Democrat, defeated Republican Larry Dietrich by 3,000 votes in this statewide race. (South Dakota has only one seat in the House.) I'm impressed by her performance, considering that: 1) South Dakota went for Bush 60%-38% in 2000, 2)the Republican Party and Dietrich spent $2 million to win about 125,000 votes, or roughly $16 per vote, and 3) Herseth is just 33 years old.

Herseth's victory in South Dakota follows Democrat Ben Chandler's February election to Congress in Kentucky. Since both were special elections, they'll have to run again in November, albeit with the power of incumbency. South Dakota? Kentucky? It seems Democrats are showing some clout in these alleged "red states". Both Herseth and Chandler are familiar family names in their home states (like the Browns in California or Udalls in the Southwest), so their triumphs might be anomalous. On the other hand, it does show much politics is local. Gain trust and affection locally, and you can counter national party affiliation. At the same time, some folks will turn out largely due to disgust at Bush's policies. Call it a form of negative coattails.

Josh Marshall notes the Republican Party is full of excuses for their losses, suggesting that minority voters who provide the margin of victory aren't quite real Americans. Consider this statement by Congressman Davis, following the Republican defeat in South Dakota:

“If you take out the Indian reservation, we would have won,” said Rep. Tom Davis (R-Va.), former chairman of the NRCC.

I'm not sure what his point is, or even what he thinks it is. Yeah, if you take out Arkansas, Gore would have won. But my example makes little sense, because Arkansas counts as much as any other state's six electoral votes. Are Republicans implying that folks on the rez shouldn't count as much as white voters? Maybe three-fifths, perhaps?

Herseth won the special election to the seat vacated by Bill Janklow, who resigned following his conviction for second-degree manslaughter. Janklow served 100 days in jail and was released in May.

On the side of angels: Reginald Zelnik

Reggie Zelnik, professor of Russian history at Berkeley, died last month. He was 68. I found out a week ago, through the alumni grapevine. I knew he was respected and liked by colleagues and students. What I didn't expect is how widely he was recognized, not only for his scholarship, but also for his advocacy on behalf of the political and academic freedom of students. Both his historical work and his role in the Free Speech Movement is remembered, not just in Berkeley, but also in dailies from The New York Times to The Scotsman.

I was never his student, but I heard him give public speechs on two occasions. The second time was at my history graduation in 1997. As chair of the history department that year, he persuaded Martin Cruz Smith, author of Gorky Park and Bay Area resident, to give the commencement speech. Smith was one of Zelnik's favorite novelists, and a sign that his love of Russian culture was deep and abiding.

The first time was in 1996, when he delivered a eulogy for Mario Savio. I don't remember much about his I remember he quoted from the "little known" (his words) Russian political theorist, George Plekhanov. I forgot his words, but from time to time I would try to recall what they were, because they had made an impression on me eight years ago. Well, today is as good as any to actually look them up:

"A great man is great not because his personal qualities give individual features to great historical events, but because he possesses qualities which make him most capable of serving the great social needs of his time."

I think the idea embodied here is a wonderful antidote to the culture, and cult, of celebrity. And from reading the obituary, it seems like Plekhanov's words describe Zelnik himself, much as it did his friend.

Professor Zelnik could have mined a narrow, comfortable path in academic life. But he recognized one could not divorce the life of the mind, from life in our world. And our world, our nation, began to experience painful yet necessary changes during the 1960s on many fronts. The most important front was the battle for racial equality.

During the summer of 1964, many students from Northern campuses went to Mississippi to register African-Americans to vote, open schools and community centers for its poorer citizens, and organize alternative to the white racist Mississippi Democratic Party. It was known as Freedom Summer.

Many students were beaten by local thugs and local police. Three Northern volunteers - Schwerner, Cheney and Goodman - were killed. Three local blacks were lynched. Thousands of people were allowed to vote for the first time in their lives. Students returned to school that fall, filled with a sharpened sense of racial injustice and a passionate commitment to protecting civil rights.

When students returned to Berkeley to organize, the administration attempted to prohibit them from advocating political causes. All summer they had organized for civil rights in Mississippi and encountered harsh resistance - and now they discovered resistance and denial of their own political rights on the Berkeley campus!

The rest, they say, is history. You can read the chronology to learn how events unfolded, how five thousand students staged a sit-in, how Savio stood on an abandoned police car and gave his famous speech:

There is a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you so sick at heart, that you can't take part; you can't even passively take part, and you've got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus, and you've got to make it stop. And you've got to indicate to the people who run it, to the people who own it, that unless you're free, the machine will be prevented from working at all!

As a young faculty member, Reggie Zelnik was scarcely older than the students themselves. He understood what they were fighting for in Mississippi, and why they were fighting this battle against the University. He also understood the faculty and administration, and the political pressures upon the university president, Clark Kerr. (Kerr was persecuted by reactionary political forces and eventually fired in 1967 by then-governor Ronald Reagan.) A majority of the faculty eventually sided with the students, whose right to organize and advocate on campus were recognized. Some senior faculty had been persecuted under the Loyalty Oath cases of the early 50s. Due to FSM's victory, neither blanket infringment of academic and political freedom would ever repeat itself at Berkeley.

The consequences of the Free Speech Movement extended beyond college campuses, which one by one conceded to students their inalienable rights. It signified that political discourse had freed itself from straitjacket of the Cold War. The changes wrought by a bunch of ordinary, ideologically diverse professors and students, also helped broaden the scope of history as a discipline. Social historians began to discover peasant movements and worker revolts, and investigate their impact. In 2002, Zelnik himself co-edited The Free Speech Movement: Reflections on Berkeley in the 1960s, whose essays examine these perspectives. His own essay is entitled "On the Side of Angels", examines the role of faculty in supporting the students.

Anyone who reads this little essay of mine is probably literate, politically informed, and interested in the world around us. The question is, do we have the qualities which make us capable of serving the great social needs of our time? Do you possess the passion, imagination, and ethical outlook that demands nothing less than service in the interests of good, and refusal in the face of evil? That's a question only we can answer for ourselves.

Go with the angels, Professor Zelnik.

Ronald Reagan, revisited

Ronald Reagan is dead. He became President when I was five, and left office when I was thirteen. During his second term, from 1985-1989, I had my first lessons in the politics of ecology, foreign policy, human rights, and economics. Like Franklin D. Roosevelt, he utterly transformed American politics and the political language we now speak, for better or for worse.

The media blitz has already begun. Personally, I don't mind the amount of coverage. He was our President, and a historic figure on the world stage. I respect him for reversing course and transcending his conservatism on taxes and the Soviet Union. His eloquence and ability to comfort the American people, as during the Challenger tragedy, was real. But I mind the overwrought and often inaccurate manner with which every media outlet is tripping over themselves to out-eulogize Reagan, concluding that "he tore down the Berlin Wall and ended the Cold War."

Um, excuse me? I think the German people had a hand or two in the former, and Gorbachev and Eastern Europe did much to foment the latter. Those pro-peace and anti-nuke activists whom the Republicans love to hate? The ones who practice mass demonstrations and civil disobedience? They helped end the Cold War.

Last February, I wrote a column on this subject, Cold War and Peace, Revisited. I wanted to affirm the relationship between mass democracy and world-historical change, in light of the vast anti-war protests then sprouting around the world. I wasn't thinking about Reagan per se when I wrote the essay, but it's a healthy antidote to propaganda blitz we'll endure over the next week. I hope that he rests in peace, whomever we credit with restoring it, momentarily, to our troubled world.