What Creates a Responsible Commonwealth?

Last Thursday, at the Olympic Club, a fellow member – a committed Libertarian -- gave a provocative speech on liberty. His views echo the early pioneer creed of self-reliance, freedom to choose, and readiness to take responsibility for the outcomes of those choices. He decries any government mandates – whether to participate in Social Security or wear seat belts or whatever. Thursday night, I pondered a response about the balance of freedom and commonwealth; if not government in our complex, heterogeneous society, what mechanisms constrain liberty from becoming mere license?

Friday morning, I joined the leadership team of Horizon House to have breakfast with Geoffrey Black, General Minister and President of the United Church of Christ. (Horizon House, Seattle’s leading continuous care retirement community, was founded 50 years ago by members of Plymouth Congregational Church, a UCC affiliate; we still have ties to the UCC though we are a heterogeneous, multi-faith community of curious, active persons dedicated to creative ageing. I serve as a non-resident trustee.) This was a remarkable coincidence, coming as it did after my musing on the responsibilities of free citizens to a community of free citizens. The Reverend Black talked passionatly about peace and justice and what his community of faith had to be and become to minister effectively in the 21st century.

The UCC, itself, is remarkable. Formed but in 1957 by the merger of the Congregationalists of my forbearers with the Evangelical and Reformed Church, and small (only 1.1mm and shrinking like so many other mainline denominations), UCC has swung a disproportionate weight in the fights for civil rights, against Apartheid, for women’s rights, for gay and lesbian rights (UCC lost 400k members in 2007 after officially endorsing gay marriage), against nuclear arms proliferation, and so on and on. And these are not merely positions; this is a church of deeds -- showing up, organizing, contributing, calling, laboring, feeding, housing, providing sanctuary, whatever.

The UCC is committed to peace and justice; its congregations are open and welcoming to all of whatever ethnic or social strata or sexual persuasion, so long as one shares belief and commitment.

My home church was Colonial Church of Edina, a Congregationalist church led by Dr. Arthur Rouner, a congregation that decided to opt out of UCC at the time of merger. When I came to Seattle, I was attracted to Plymouth Congregational and its senior minister, Joe Williamson. His was a remarkable intellect; he later served as Dean of religious life at Princeton University. Plymouth continues to live the UCC progressive, activist tradition: Plymouth Housing Group operates 800 units of low income housing; its supports sister church relationships in emerging nations (it was through Plymouth that I was able to go and take a close look at Nicaragua in the Sandinista years); it has persistently protested the Iraq war. I served it for a while as head of adult education, studying and wrestling with the complexities of these kinds of moral and ethical questions.

It wasn’t the church’s activism or stand on issues that ate at me. It was questions of belief and faith. I dreaded a certain question at breakfast with Rev. Black, since I am no longer a member of Plymouth – or of any church. Why, when I obviously admire Plymouth and the UCC?

For years I had swallowed my doubts and salved my conscience by rationalizing that the Apostles Creed was merely poetic metaphor, or by standing silent while my fellow congregants stated their true belief in trinity, in resurrection, in an activist God who would intercede in the affairs of men. My doubt of a ‘loving’ God who obviously did not intercede to mitigate the chaos, the tragedies, the inhumanities of the world grew; along with it, my sense of hypocrisy. And then I began spending more time in Southeast Asia, increasingly exposed to the teachings of the Buddha.

My journey finally arrived at a point where I no longer can call myself a Christian. I still revere the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth. We know he would be appalled by some of the deeds committed in his name But also that he would be delighted by others, like those of progressive UCC’ers committed to Acceptance and Peace and Justice. I have come to accept the Buddha's disdain for questions of the nature of God as an unkowable distraction from the problems of dealing here and now with suffering, self control, and injustice.

But the Thursday question remains: what mechanisms should we use, if any, to balance freedom with community responsibility? Is it enough to rely on 1.1mm UCC’ers or ten times as many Methodists or twenty times as many Baptists to handle the demands of 300millions more Americans, many of whom may not be responsible and self-sufficient, who have needs and suffer injustice? What creates a responsible, civil commonwealth? And what is the proper role of the majority, i.e., of a government of the governed?

That Was Hockey!

There were no losers in that gold medal game. Hockey was the winner. It couldn't have show-cased any better for any more fans the grace, artistry, speed, and organized chaos that hockey is supposed to be ... without the goons and fistfights that NHL owners think necessary to keep beer-swigging dolts coming to games. And the point is, those remarkable players who cared so, who emptied their tanks for pride and country and team, are NHL pros -- the same guys who besmirch their game with gratuitous violence week after week until fans like me give up.

I once relished the old Northstars of Minnesota -- that was super hockey. And at Marriott, Sam Huff and I worked the NHL teams for contract rooms. But then the league began to pander... and now franchises shift about in regions where there is no cultural appreciation for the game. When DC got its franchise (from Minnesota) fans used to scream with delight at showy but fruitless slapshots from the blue line. Pleasing crowds with meaningless drama and fighting became the standard. The owners mealy mouth about fighting, and they get the fans they earn.

Anyway, hats off to the Finns, Canadians, and Americans who gave the world a look at hockey as it was meant to be. C'mon, NHL: take a fresh look.

Home Again, Home Again....

What a great adventure: Ann was all support; Frank’s initiative made it possible; I supplied encouragement. Neither of us could have done it without the other. Frank and I make a surprisingly compatible odd couple. He has an incisive wit; an explosive disdain for “those idiots” who usually turn out to be authorities, politicians, or drivers of cars in his vicinity; and a charming ability to chat up strangers, developing instant rapport because of his obviously sincere interest in them. As an inventor, his mind is constantly in quest of the better – no matter what the object of his attention.

This probably ends my Olympic quests: I’ve been very lucky: three winter games – Innsbruck ’76, Calgary ’88, Vancouver ’10; two summers -- Montreal 76, Los Angeles ’84 -- and peripheral involvement in Moscow ’80 (as unexpected advisor to Vneshtorgbank on marketing Russian Olympic coins.) I’m sure I won’t be going to Sochi, but wouldn’t it be fun?

The games have changed so. When I fell in love with Winter Olympics, in ’76, stars were made by the games, not for the games. Yes, there were corporate sponsors and broadcasting contracts, but ordinary joe fans drove most of the action. Security was not intrusive until post 9/11– despite the tragedy of Munich in ’72. The venues were small and intimate and manageable w/o daunting transportation challenges. Hell, at Innsbruck, I climbed up the mountain with a guy I met on site, and then, when the guards weren’t looking, we clambered into and out of the bobsled run to make our way to the downhill course (and by dumb luck we hit it at the corner where Klammer went airborne.) Calgary, though larger, still felt intimate. The Summers have always been too large – Rome, Sydney, Los Angeles, Montreal, Tokyo, Beijing and all, but Winters until now have been tight and close. Sochi may return to that pattern.

This is not to say Vancouver was disappointing. Yes, it was too big – three venues at Whistler and six in Vancouver. Yes, it’ll be a flop financially and yes, VanOC made some bonehead moves – scaring away fans, fencing off the flame, creating a unused reversible lane highway ... the IOC didn’t help by bestowing a ticket monopoly on a highly suspect tour packager…. But Vancouverites made up for all that with their delight, their welcomes, their smiles and courtesy. As for sour grapes about how intent they were on podium positions? They’re no worse than any other host people who are proud and determined to show the world what they’ve got. And the beauty of the setting – a natural advantage winter games have over summers for, after all, you do need snow covered mountains – Vancouver is hard to beat. Neither Calgary nor Albertville nor Lillehammer had the Pacific Ocean as their front yard.

Despite the kleptocratic and sometimes ridiculous IOC (the delegate from Oman awarding cross-country ski medals!), the millions spent, and whatever the venue, all who attend a winter games -- corporate host or guest or ordinary joe or local resident -- all share a single focus and one enthusiasm – the games. In that way, the Olympics truly do bring the world together for a brief moment -- and that is precious, indeed.

Mother Nature Blesses Whistler... Finally!

A stunning alpine day -- cloudless, warm, barely a breeze, 7cm of new snow dusting the tracks and trails. D'hiller Frank opted for skiing along the women's downhill to see whether Lindsey V's injury was real or a media thrill. He got the answer, and so did all the other women, and some great shots which I will pass along soon. The ancient skate skiier opted for the men's and women's classic sprints.

The Olympic Center, i.e., the sprint course, the sliding center and the jumps, were constructed by VanOC, and they are super -- super fast, super sited, super for fans. And VanOC has set up a Cle$1.5 million for operating support for IntraWest's takeover of the facility. But IntraWest is in bankruptcy (was the auction yesterday?) so no one knows what to expect. But now is the word at the Olympics... NOW.

From the stands, awash in a sea of oomlauts and those funny oh's with the backslash through them, I watched 5 heats of qualifications, four quarter finals, two semi and the finals -- twelve races for each of men and women. The sprints are 1.5kms with 95mtrs of altitude gain. They ran it in around 3:40, with the women typically only 8 to 10 seconds slower. It was awesome. I never saw so many Scandanavians in one place before, a sea of Finns, Swedes, and gigantic Norwegians wearing Viking gear, all waving flags and clanging bells. But over their shoulders lurked the Russians -- two golds in the men's in a fantastic finish, way outpacing the bronze Norwegian. Norway did take the gold in women's, to everone's delight (except the Swedes and Finns.) But the exhausted Slovene who bronzed stole the attention, for she was in real trouble. Even 7 hours later, she had to have two EMP's helping her to walk and get up on the podium at the award ceremony. Afterward, the organizers got it right; the crowd walked the 3kms to the bus loading zone and were whisked off to Whistler.

We hooked up, had a late afternoon lamb stew, and wandered. There are live performances all about Whistler. Bare Naked Ladies were playing to a tightly massed crowd. Monday, we had seen a First Nations group named George Leech (or maybe Leach) who was so much better a group of musicians -- playing before a so much smaller crowd. What a shame. BNL were really dumb. I blew my way through the crowd to check out tix for the awards ceremony.

The deal is tix are required but cost nothing. Step 2: wait list. Wait list for tix? Well, no...just go stand in what they term a wait list line and usually they let all of you in. So I called Frank and stood in line awhile. He showed up, but we lost one another at the security stations, and just like with TSA, my artificial knees set off alarms. The ceremony was fun; Lindsey and Mancuso were great. Marte, the Norwegian gold sprinter, was charming. The Bronze Slovene woman proud though clearly suffering.

And so off to town on that three lane highway, now with a steady stream of cars heading down off the mountain. And the reversible lanes in the utlimate wisdom of the organizers? Two empty lanes up; one jammed lane down. Oh, and in response to the outcry of protests about fencing off the flame cauldron? They have cut a nine inch slice out of the fence at adult eye level so that one can shoot pictures through the slot. Still can't shoot your kids in front of the flame. No wonder Mother Nature has been dumping on these VanOC goofballs.

Never a Wasted Day -- Some Just Better Organized...

Since the downhill and combined events were moved, we two oj’s w/o tix wandered about Vancouver trying to make up our alleged minds as to what venue we wanted to try for last minute or scalper tickets. But first, coffee. At Benz we were sassed by a charming barista. Next door, Frank spotted a Lululemon design and sample operation which he couldn’t resist (Frank engineers outdoor and athletic apparel) and wound up schmoozing with the designers.

Then to town center; first objective: the Museum. Second: pin barter for some national team material or older games. (I have pins from all the games save for the 1st, 1920, Chamonix – and 3rd 1932, Lake Placid.)

Well, the town was packed…. A block long line awaited entry to the Museum; to hell with that. Pin traders on the street hadn’t yet begun to get team material; the athletes don’t start to circulate and trade until later in the second week after more of the events have transpired. So we headed for The Bay where a pin dealer’s area had been set up in their Olympics gear department. That line stretched out the door of The Bay and down two blocks!

We amused ourselves with street performers, watching the crowd. Found a good seafood lunch. By the time we decided to try for some tix, the events of interest were nearly over. A wasted day? Not at all….

Here are some shots from the men’s downhill yesterday – yes, I know, you could see it a lot better on TV.

Two Decisions That Imperil Our Republic

Recently (11Feb'10) I gave this talk at the Olympic Club (Seattle.)


The Roberts court’s overturning of McCain-Feingold restrictions on corporate campaign advertising came as no surprise. Two prior decisions lay the legal foundations that almost made inevitable the legal activism of the conservative majority. They ignored 103 years of precedent…(remember Robert’s reassuring confirmation words about respecting precedent?)

• The first? 1886 – Santa Clara County v. Southern Pacific Railway: corporations are persons.
• The second? 1976 – Buckley v. Valeo: Money is the equivalent of speech

Let’s start with 1886: Corporations’ rights and protections had always presented difficulties. English common law and in colonial times, too, a corporation was termed an “artificial person” as against “natural persons” like you and I. But these were small matters, for corporations played but a tiny part in the economy of the Confederation. Most were chartered hospitals and colleges. In fact, corporations are not even mentioned in the Constitution.

But in early 19th century, corporations grew more numerous, a peculiarly American phenomenon. (By 1810, there were more corporations chartered in Massachusetts than in England and the Continent combined.) And as they became more prevalent, corporations more frequently posed issues of rights and protections as “artificial persons.”

From the Dartmouth case of 1819 on (which had held that corporate charters were contracts) corporations’ rights, especially as railroads expanded into interstate operations, became an increasingly hot issue. What was a corporation’s status under the constitution vis-à-vis that of governments?

In 1886, Santa Clara County sued the Southern Pacific Railroad – a garden-variety property tax dispute. It was appealed to the Supreme Court. At the opening of the hearing, Chief Justice Waite said “The court does not wish to hear argument on the question whether the provision in the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution, which forbids a State to deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws, applies to these corporations. We are all of the opinion that it does."

The Reporter of the United States, Bancroft Davis, charged with preparing summaries of court decisions, wrote in the headnotes that “The defendant Corporations are persons within the intent of the clause in section 1 of the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution of the United States which forbids a State to deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.”

Years later, correspondence came to light between Davis and Chief Justice Wait in which they had discussed whether the court had really ruled on whether corporations were persons or merely opined that they were – but, Waite wrote Davis, “I leave it with you to determine whether anything need be said about it in the report inasmuch as we avoided meeting the constitutional question in the decision.” In other words, the Chief Justice left it up to the court reporter to decide.

It should be noted that court reporter Davis had served as a jurist, an Asst. Sect. of State. and -- wait for it -- as President of the New York and Newburgh Railroad.

Thus an otherwise inconsequential case enshrined the idea that corporations are persons.

Consider the inherent, ridiculous inconsistencies:

• Why can’t “person” General Electric vote for the Fairfield, CT. school board, where the “person” is headquartered, or for the New York attorney general, in which state “person” GE is incorporated?
• If “person” GE is owned by shareholders, i.e., other persons, then don’t persons own a person? Isn’t that slavery as prohibited under 13th Amendment?

OK, enough of this nonsense – a corporation to me is an enterprise interested mainly in its survival, not a person.

Ninety years later, 1976, the second shoe dropped. Buckley v. Valeo: money is the equivalent of speech.

The campaign spending restrictions of ’74, passed over President Ford’s veto, was contested by Senator James Buckley and others in a lawsuit against Francis Valeo, Chairman of Federal Election Commission. The majority overturned campaign spending restrictions on First Amendment grounds, ruling that money is the equivalent of speech.

As Justice John Paul Stevens said two weeks ago in his dissent to the Roberts decision: “Money is property; it is not speech.” This (waving bills) is my property; you have your property. These pieces of paper are not speech.


Why do I view these two decisions as a threat to our republic? Because corporations can buy a bigger megaphone than can you or I. They can buy more megaphones; they can buy up all the megaphones.

By 1886, as best I can guesstimate, corporations accounted for something around 1/5th to 1/3rd of our GDP. Today, what might it be? Big corps, small corps, S-corps, LLC’s -- ninety plus percent of GDP going through their hands? And the cash flows they command…?

Last Dec., Jaques (a French-born naturalized US citizen, member of the Club) spoke eloquently about why he chose to emigrate to the US. One of the ideas that moved him was that here, rich and poor alike were treated equally. Well, corporations as persons with cash buying the biggest megaphones knock that ideal into a cocked hat.

What is to stop

• Philip Morris from funding a challenger to defeat Jim McDermott, who believes in stricter regulation of tobacco, thus replacing him with a new Congressman who is beholden to whom – a No. Carolina “person” or to the citizens of Seattle?
• EADS/Airbus and Lockheed Martin spending to defeat Norm Dicks, likely chair of Armed Services Committee, to replace him with a new representative beholden to whom – a European “person” and a California “person” or the voters of Tacoma and the Peninsula?
• Carnival Cruise Lines, a Miami Headquartered / Panama registered company founded and still controlled by a US family from campaigning against Patty Murray over reform of foreign tax havens? Who would her replacement represent – a foreign “person” paying no taxes to the US or the taxpaying citizens of Washington?

Am I being overdramatic? Only slightly. This serious issue deserves careful thought, for while corporate personhood is deeply woven into the fabric of our law, and the First Amendment is the fundamental right of citizens, the effect of these two decisions does imperil out representative form of government.

Solutions will require much more time than I am allotted here to explore and craft. But these three questions deserve our concern. Consider well, gentlemen:

1. Are corporations really persons?
2. Is cash speech or merely property?
3. Who does your representative represent?
   
   

Now Fletch Comes Clean With Ann

Some may recall my saying after our 1st trip to Whistler that we had learned we could take the gondola up and “get down" along the race course saving us having to buy an event ticket and giving us better vantages. Well, since now it’s done and I’m in a foreign country without marital extradition, I can admit that “getting down" is a euphemism for skiing. Yes, this 75 year old body on two artificial knees that haven’t downhilled since ’99 went downhill skiing. It wasn’t pretty….

First, a bit more on Valentine’s Day in Vancouver. There were folks all over offering “Free Hugs”, which were given galore. I even got one. Fun. And then last night we found a Safeway for some more eggs. Frank bought a Starbucks and I picked up a Seattle Times; God, exotic foreign travel is so broadening, isn’t it?

Michele went home today, having hosted for VISA and missing her family for four full days. There is little harder duty – smiling and being helpful from morn to night and never getting away from the guest VIPs, never getting to wander about sampling a venue’s fare. She earned her two tickets – to the opening ceremony and pairs dancing. We on the other hand, have yet to buy a ticket.

We stoked up on eggs, hit the the elaborate but empty highway to Whistler early, geared up, got on the lift and headed up. No warm up – the race was starting, and Bode Miller was off #4. We missed his run by about two hundred metres, but then past us they came. We weren’t allowed to crowd the course as close as at Innsbruck or Calgary, but pretty good views amid the crush of the fans and clanging cowbells. Lots of air on the curve we were on, but hard to shoot. I'll edit and add a pic tomorrow.

The ski legs did not come back as fast as I had hoped. By the time I got a bit rhythm and feel, my thighs were burning and the older knee was telling me that it had had enough; just get me the hell down it said…. I did, but it wasn’t pretty.

Rendezvoused with Frank , who had lifted up again and gone real skiing – he’s an expert – at 3 at the Lake Placid Center. Ate some lunch and wandered the town, listening to live music in squares, enjoying the crowd, watching for athlete stars, and generally savoring the camaraderie. Masses of RCMP’s wandering about with big grins; easiest assignments they have ever had.