Unplug
Stephen Chapman
In "Unplug the DOE!"
Stephen Chapman recommends that an empty symbolic gesture drive policy. What's
more, he does it without apology or embarrassment.
What may be provocative copy
for Slate is actually outdated discourse. The perennial argument for
dismantling the Department of Energy doesn't succeed because it doesn't make
sense. No proposal has ever identified clear savings for taxpayers from
eliminating the DOE--at least, none that rivals the billions the department
saved under the Clinton administration (by undertaking contract reform, cutting
waste, privatizing, and streamlining operations).
Of his various arguments for
redistributing our responsibilities, most disconcerting is Chapman's easy pass
of DOE's nuclear-weapons responsibilities to the Pentagon. The decades-old
"check and balance" relationship between the DOE and the DOD squares the needs
of the people who are responsible for the safety, control, and stewardship of
nuclear weapons with those of the people who decide whether to use the
weapons.
Then-Defense Secretary Perry
said last year, "With the new technical challenges of providing stewardship of
the stockpile in the absence of underground testing, this is not a time to be
fundamentally restructuring the management of these activities." And Energy
Daily reported the Bush administration's energy secretary, Adm. James
Watkins, as saying, "I think it would be a mistake to give [weapons functions
to the] DOD," and that Defense Department officials may not understand the
importance of rigorous--and expensive--nuclear-safety practices. Watkins
described a DOD official who wanted to stonewall public concerns about
environmental contamination and safety threats at DOE sites by exercising the
government's sovereign-immunity defense against litigation. "And to hell with
nuclear safety," he added.
So, Chapman wants to give
weapons safety and cleanup to Defense? The people living near our nuclear sites
around the country have seen progress both in openness and cleanup by the
department. I don't think they would want this change.
Chapman's
ultimate goal is actually one we share: ensuring that the American people fully
understand the Clinton administration's success in reducing the size of
government while increasing its effect. A better solution would be for
columnists like Chapman to report the story. But that would be more difficult
than covering empty symbols.
--Carmen
MacDougalldeputy assistant secretary for communicationsDepartment of
Energy
Goddamnit!
I remember seeing a piece by
Michael Kinsley some years back on the absurdity of punditry. You know, the
professional pundit, who is supposed to know whether (and how) we should have
intervened in Rwanda, who should win the Oscar for best cinematography this
year, what revisions should be made to the method of GNP calculations, what
concessions the baseball owners should accept, and so on. Well, Slate has
brought punditry to almost unimaginable new heights with its ongoing "Is There a
God?" dialogue between Andrew Sullivan and Stephen Chapman. I suppose that
keeping up with Alan Sinai's daily predictions of Dow movements does give one
some authority on this matter; but, it still seems to me, musings on this
subject (like those on solid-state physics, for example) should, if they are
going to be published, be assigned to individuals who have had more than a
little training in the matter.
One can, for example, read
all the exchanges to date without knowing what either writer means by the word
"God." We know that Sullivan believes in him (her? it? us?), and the other guy
does not; and that Sullivan has "always" had this belief, while the other guy
has lost his. But that's about it. Furthermore, while there have been no
definitions or real elucidations, the discussions seem mired in the concept of
a personal Christian-type deity, as though the ability to prove or disprove the
existence of that sort of entity is in some way dispositive. I'm not sure if
the correspondents realize that the Hindu concept of Brahman has been around
considerably longer than Sullivan's cross-pollination of something like the
following: a powerful (yet devout) bearded man, a cool breeze on a clear summer
night, a John Lennon tune, and the Lion King.
Listen, I
really don't want to criticize. Many of us struggle with these issues for much
of our adult lives, and perhaps it's something we ought to do ... something
that's good for us and for the world. It's probably therapeutic for Slate's two
warriors to be taking time out from their inquiries into the House Budget or
Travelgate to organize their thoughts on their place in the universe. And,
although I got a Ph.D. in philosophy many years ago and have thought and read
about these matters ever since, heaven (or whatever) knows I don't have too
many answers that I feel confident about. These matters are both very difficult
and (except for strict "Little Raft" Buddhists, who are interested only in the
relief of suffering, not in metaphysics) very important. I don't mind,
therefore, that your two gentlemen are interested, or that they aren't making
much headway. I just resist the idea of punditry in certain spheres. I mean, is
nothing holy?
--Walter Horn
Give
Gates the Bill
Bill Gates ranks
10 th in total giving on the "Slate
60" list, but here is some food for thought:
I heard on the radio that
Sir Bill is worth around $21 billion now. My calculations may be slipping a
zero here or there, but: If one divides $27 million [Gates' contributions to
charity so far this year] by $21 billion, and uses that percentage to prorate
what an American family with a net worth of $50,000 might give to charity, one
would come up with an annual contribution of $51.43--about a dollar a week at
the collection plate of the local church.
Don't get me wrong. Bill is
entitled to do whatever he wants with his cash. But it is a little sad to see
that he has not taken a little more aggressive approach toward charitable
giving. His oft-stated goal of waiting until he retires to worry about giving
away his money is nice, but extremely shortsighted.
A
well-placed billion or two, especially when not burdened with the bureaucracy
of the state, could well cure cancer, or AIDS, or otherwise profoundly alter
the lives of millions of people. (Bill's family, like many families in the
United States, has been directly touched by cancer.) It's sad to think that the
epitaph on countless headstones over the next few decades will have this
postscript: "I might have lived a full life if Bill had decided to retire just
a bit earlier."
--Michael
Johnson
Trickle-Down Campaign-Finance Reform
Why should the U.S. public
accept the yardstick JacobWeisberg offered us for "measuring the Clinton
foreign-contributions scandal" in his defense of the Democrats, "Does
Everybody Do It?"? Weisberg makes the myopic error of defining "everybody"
as the pustular ranks of Republicans and Democrats incestuously engaged in
doling out political favors to their campaign contributors. There is little
discerning power evident in Weisberg's relativist judging of the moral failings
of Democratic campaigns against the most afflicted Republican examples. There
are some politicians who don't play the campaign-finance game despite the odds
stacked against them. Some are even members of the Republican and Democratic
parties.
The current shock and horror
over alleged large soft-money donations to the Democratic National Committee by
foreign nationals (Koreans, Taiwanese, and Indonesians) in return for economic-
and military-policy considerations by the Clinton administration is amusing--as
if soft-money contributions made by domestic corporations and executives are
somehow better, less sullied, more ethical. If such activity is considered
bribery when foreign nationals engage in it, why is it any different when
domestic entities put our campaign system of legalized bribery to use? This
points to a moral duality in the current situation, which is troubling.
Campaign-finance reformers
fixate too much on the demand side of this economic market. If we consider, for
a moment, that the primary aim behind reform is the reduction of
influence-peddling, then we can look at the present campaign system as a
political-influence market: people making payments in return for policy favors.
No matter whether it is $500,000 from a multinational corporation or a $20
check from an individual, a payment is made because someone feels certain
government policies benefit him or her. Most reforms attempt to deal with the
problem by placing limits on the demand side--that is, campaign-contribution
limits, campaign-expenditure limits, etc.
Invariably, contributors
find loopholes and skirt the limits--bending, even breaking, the laws. The
record tide of campaign expenditure during this election cycle can be viewed as
an index of the level of economic dependence of individuals and
corporations--even foreign ones--on government policies. Is it any wonder that,
after the breakup of the Soviet Union, the economic marginal utility of U.S.
foreign policy has skyrocketed and foreign entities are anteing up to the
larger pot the United States has to offer? Demand-side proposals also run smack
up against the First Amendment guarantee of free speech, something some
fearfully consider abridging.
Addressing the supply side of the political-influence market may get us past
some of the pitfalls endemic to campaign-kickback reform. A supply-side
approach would focus on reducing the ability of government to dole out favors.
Reduce the marginal utility of government influence peddling, and campaign
contributions will take care of themselves. Reduce the stakes, and players will
leave the table.
--Kris Lipman