Defining Decency Down
Even as we read that Tom DeLay sees the Schiavo case as God's gift for his political salvation, and David Brooks levels the boom on the corruption-related activities of his co-partisans, Mark Schmitt delivers on his Decembrist blog (thanks, Nav) a needed corrective on the recent tendency among Democrats to applaud some Republicans' occasional deviation from their party line. Schmitt points out that, in a sense, this is really less an example of political heroism than, y'know, doing their job:

I'm sorry, but I am tired of the attribution of "courage" to Republican Senators for voting for politically popular and sound provisions. If the Secretary of the Treasury or HHS comes out against Bush's Medicaid cuts, that might take some courage -- they might lose their jobs, and have to take some $300,000/year lobbying gig. (In other words, even they aren't exactly Sir Thomas More.) Gordon Smith works for the people of Oregon. His job is to represent them, and to represent his view of the national interest. Voting against the preferences of an unpopular president, in a blue state, and in defense of a good and popular program, simply doesn't deserve to be called "courage." I never thought it showed courage for Democrats like Lautenberg to vote against tax increases in Clinton's 1993 budget. Likewise, it shows no particular courage for Smith to oppose his party's president in a symbolic vote for Medicaid. It's called doing your job. In this case, taken in combination with his other votes, I think it's even less than that.
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Second, I'm tired of giving quasi-conservatives credit for what I call Miss America compassion (I'll explain in a minute). Smith's son's suicide led him to support more funding for suicide prevention and for mental health care generally. Great -- my life has been affected by suicide also, so I'm all for that. Similarly, Senator Pete Domenici's daughter's mental illness made him an advocate for mandating equitable treatment of mental and physical well-being in health insurance, a cause in which he was joined by Paul Wellstone. Again, I'm all for it, and I have no doubt that Domenici was at least as personally sincere and driven about it as Wellstone, and watching the two of them pair up on this cause and learn to work together was a good example for the potential of democratic institutions to create understanding.

But what has always bothered me about such examples is that their compassion seems so narrowly and literally focused on the specific misfortune that their family encountered. Having a child who suffers from mental illness would indeed make one particularly passionate about funding for mental health, sure. But shouldn't it also lead to a deeper understanding that there are a lot of families, in all kinds of situations beyond their control, who need help from government? Shouldn't having a son whose illness leads to suicide open your eyes to something more than a belief that we need more money for suicide help-lines? Shouldn't it call into question the entire winners-win/losers-lose ideology of the current Republican Party? Shouldn't it also lead to an understanding that if we want to live in a society that provides a robust system of public support for those who need help -- whether for mental illness or any of the other misfortunes that life hands out at random -- we will need a government with adequate institutions and revenues to provide those things?

And that's what I mean by "Miss America Compassion." These Senators are like Miss America contestants, each with a "platform": Mr. Ohio: "Adoption Assistance." Mr. Oregon: "Suicide Prevention." Mr. Minnesota: "Community Development." Mr. New Mexico: "Mental Health Parity." Mr. Pennsylvania: "Missing children" The platform is meant to show them as thoughtful, deep and independent-minded, but after the "platform segment" they return to play their obedient part in a degrading exercise that makes this country crueler and government less supportive.

And, of course, as with Miss America contestants' "platforms," there are a few approved topics and many more that simply couldn't be considered. It's not too likely that you'll see Miss Alabama adopt "Income inequality" as her platform or Miss Colorado, "Corporate tax evasion." Nor is a Senator likely to have a family experience with lack of health insurance, or personal bankruptcy, or Food Stamps.

This could be seen as a (much more eloquent and detailed) refinement of my "symbolic vs. systemic" argument below. This buffet-style approach to policymaking starts from the premise that these problems, worthy though they all are as issues, are not interrelated. That's absurd on its face, as any five-minute conversation with a social service provider will demonstrate: mental health issues, low educational attainment, job insecurity, health care, affordable housing--if you're dealing with one of these, you're probably dealing with a few of them.

Schmitt's piece includes another graf that I took out from the quote above, which merits separate comment:

It might take a little bit of courage, though, to stand up and point out that maintaining the services and protections that we expect from government is going to require TAXES, now and in the future. But we elect Senators for a six-year term exactly in the expectation that they can show just that kind of courage, which Smith showed none of.

Again, this goes to a systemic question. It's tough to govern without revenue, it's tough to raise revenue without raising taxes. To vote, as Gordon Smith and a few of his Senate Republican colleagues did, to restore proposed Medicaid cuts while voting against the fiscal discipline of pay-as-you-go budget rules, isn't particularly courageous; a nicer abjective for it would be "incoherent", and a meaner one "hypocritical."