Thursday, August 4, 2022

Why Are We Fractured?

 

Why Is America Fractured? Blame College, a New Book Argues.

In “After the Ivory Tower Falls,” Will Bunch traces our political divisions to problems with higher education.

According to “After the Ivory Tower Falls,” missed opportunities to finance college as a public good have pulled Americans apart.
Credit...Amir Hamja for The New York Times
According to “After the Ivory Tower Falls,” missed opportunities to finance college as a public good have pulled Americans apart.

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AFTER THE IVORY TOWER FALLS: How College Broke the American Dream and Blew Up Our Politics — and How to Fix It, by Will Bunch


Americans owe $1.7 trillion in student loans, an amount so gargantuan that it has lodged in the public consciousness, like the visibility of the Great Wall of China from space, except the debt monument grows higher and longer every year.

“After the Ivory Tower Falls,” by the Philadelphia Inquirer columnist Will Bunch, is the story of how the Great Wall of Loans was built and why it divides us, of how higher education went from a beloved guarantor of opportunity to, in Bunch’s telling, a fracturing force of cultural and economic separation. It is ambitious and engrossing, even when the narrative sometimes strains to fit the demands of Bunch’s argument that college has become “a fake meritocracy rigged to make half of America hate it.”

Bunch’s history tracks the missed opportunities to define and finance college as a public good, beginning with the 1944 G.I. Bill’s unexpected success in sending millions of white veterans to college, free of charge. President Harry S. Truman’s Commission on Higher Education followed up in 1947 with a far-reaching vision of enlightened, productive citizens educated by federally financed colleges and universities.

But like so many good things, the idea was spoiled by racists — in this case, Southern lawmakers who worried that federal programs might require them to educate Black people. While an undergraduate named Mario Savio helped found the Free Speech Movement at Berkeley (after registering Black Mississippi voters during the Freedom Summer of 1964), an aging actor named Ronald Reagan saw an opportunity to ride middle-class revulsion toward campus radicals all the way to the California governor’s mansion. Reagan went on to champion an antitax, small-government philosophy that would erode public education revenues for decades to come.

Bunch applies his skills as a veteran newspaper reporter throughout the book, incorporating the firsthand voices of Savio’s widow, gunshot survivors of the Kent State massacre, and many others, to great effect. But most of his reporting focuses on present-day conflicts that seem to be pulling the nation apart. He talks to liberal college professors shocked into activism by the Trump presidency and to churchgoing, Trump-loving residents of nearby towns who feel alienated by wealthy students and the cultural convulsions they represent.

The prose is tight, direct and often bracing. We meet an idealistic low-income graduate weighed down by six-figure loans and an Obama-to-Trump voter who skipped college for a factory job that paid handsome wages until it suddenly didn’t. Both are treated with fairness and humanity. Bunch describes how the dream of college as a tool for democratic citizenship has “instead become the rough show-us-your-papers demand for clinging to the middle class.”

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The final chapters bring past and present together into a single argument: that the “college problem” is underappreciated as a major driver — perhaps the major driver — of the miles-deep chasm dividing Americans by class, culture, geography and ideology. Until very recently, Bunch notes, people with college degrees split their votes about evenly between Democrats and Republicans, as did voters who didn’t attend college. Bill Clinton won the presidency by attracting noncollege voters, and as late as 2012, Barack Obama’s margin among the college-educated was relatively small.

But the Trump years caused, or were provoked by, a wrenching separation of the electorate into opposing camps defined by educational attainment. College-educated Republicans fled the party in droves, while Democrats without degrees ran in the opposite direction. The result was two tribes who disagreed not just about values and ideals but also about basic tenets of science and fact.

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A self-described progressive, Bunch acknowledges but does not dwell overmuch on campus debates around race and gender that are sometimes described as “identity politics.” His core focus is on the transformation of public universities into institutions that seem deliberately designed to exclude voters who have left the Democratic fold. The decades of lost chances to organize and fund college as a public good exacted a cost, denominated in tuition prices and financed by student loans.

While universities always publicly denounce funding cuts, many were not-so-secretly glad for the excuse to become more exclusive, expensive and focused on the wants of the wealthy. That’s how excellence has always been defined in American higher education. Just as tectonic economic shifts left tens of millions of workers needing new training and credentials, the public university system was becoming less affordable and more beholden to “meritocratic” ideas that thinly disguised the interests of the ruling class. Meanwhile, even students who might have been inclined by background and politics to embrace higher learning became disillusioned by the spiraling crisis of debt.

This is all true, and important. But it starts to creak as a totalizing explanation for the alarming state of the body politic. Bunch devotes a long chapter to a four-part taxonomy of American discontent, defined by the axes of age and college attainment. One example is Dave Mitchko, a Scranton-area man in his 50s without a degree, made briefly famous for distributing thousands of Trump 2020 signs from his home garage.

Maybe Mitchko truly believes he signed a social contract “that you didn’t need a fancy college education to have a nice life in the United States — only to see it get ripped up” right in front of him. That deal didn’t last long, historically speaking, and was only ever offered to people with names like Dave and Mitchko. And it was broken because the plant he used to work in manufactured vinyl records and compact discs. Technological change is a fact of life, and colleges weren’t responsible for de-unionization or the trade policies that exposed workers to competition from foreign labor — or for Mitchko’s belief that George Floyd was resisting arrest.

Bunch is careful to acknowledge all of this. But at some point, fair-minded caveats start to feel like counterarguments. Colleges have been as much the venue for political division as they have been its root cause.

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Will Bunch
Credit...Philadelphia Inquirer
Will Bunch

At times, Bunch overgeneralizes from the experiences of public universities in his home state of Pennsylvania, which have been underfunded to an unusual degree. Nationwide, state funding for college has not declined drastically, in part because neighboring states like New York and Maryland have done substantially better. His story of a student loan crisis driven in part by nefarious Wall Street financial engineers elides the fact that the loan system was almost entirely deprivatized in 2010. The large majority of that $1.7 trillion was lent directly by the federal government at subsidized rates.

“After the Ivory Tower Falls” concludes with a thoughtful, nuanced discussion of the practical and political challenges faced by lawmakers trying to turn the higher education system back toward public purpose. It also advocates for a form of highly encouraged national service as a means of recreating the post-World War II spirit of national unity, without the war. The elder members of our warring political tribes may be too far apart, but Bunch has hope yet for younger generations working together on behalf of their communities, rather than struggling alone through a college system filled with financial traps at every turn.

Wednesday, August 3, 2022

 


Abortion rights supporters react last night at a watch party in Overland Park, Kan. (Reuters)
In the wake of a resounding ballot box victory for the pro-choice movement in conservative Kansas, Democrats see signs that the political landscape has been reshaped to their advantage in key places this November. 

Tuesday, August 2, 2022

Tom Callahan-Gods at Play-Notes

This is one well-traveled, well-connected sportswriter that I have never ever heard of.  Happened upon this book at the Hoover Barnes & Nobel.  He is a former columnist for the Washington Post and a former senior writer for TIME.  He must be a jillion yrs old given how far back he goes.  Actually I think he started in 1966.  I Google the author but cannot elicit any useful info.  This book was published in 2020.  I assume the author is still alive but I do not know for sure.

There is no sequential narrative.  He goes from one subject to another with stories interacting with the leading sports figures every sport generally not giving dates.  If you did not know already that Ali-Foreman in Africa was 1974 you wouldn't know it from this book.  The author seems to have known and interacted with every person in every sports during his career.

This author is a reporter, reporting with dash the athletic events that he has seen though not with any spine-tingling excitement, just reporting the facts, reporting the interactions with most every sports figure of important regardless of the sport in the last fifty years, with occasional comments like offering that Ali was a cruel fighter example how kept Floyd Patterson on his feet too long just to torture him.

One surprising thing right off the top is that he says that the best baseball player he ever saw in person was  Roberto Clemente because he never saw Mays in person although he offers that Mays was the best based what other people have told him.  Tambien, he doesn't mention Mickey Mantle.  Strange if you ask me.  How could have had a 50 plus career sportswriting and not having seen Willie Mays at the end of his storied career?

Speaking of Ali-Foreman he was there although he doesn't say much about the fight except that Ali was a dirty fighter and Foremen punched himself out.  It seems the author doesn't like the globally admired Muhammad Ali.

I have never understood the supposed greatness of Kareem.  P. 36

He has a story about visiting Walter Alston, call him Smokey, friend of Weeb Eubank, joking that he was colorless yet Smokey picked him up on his motorcycle.

One of the best contents of the book is his discussion of chess and Bobby Fischer.  I knew that Fischer was eccentric but not as bad as portrayed in this book.  He ended up living in Iceland unable to return to the States due to an outstanding warrant.

He has a brief mention of being at a practice with Bear Bryant with the coach telling him how he won his libel case against the Saturday Evening Post.

He talks about Paul Brown, a brilliant coach and football mind, for whom the Cleveland Browns are named because he owned the team as it came into the NFL, a man who had his likes, coaches he promoted, and coaches he despised, like Bill Walsh, whom he tried to block from becoming a head coach but without success in the case of Walsh.

Brown, says the author icily, who taught English when he started coaching in high school, "I can define a gerund.  Can you?"

The author responds, "A verb that acts like a noun, kind of like a football coach who acts like a sportswriter."  

A daily column with the Washington Star.  P. 133

He talks about the sordid mess that is Johnny Bench who makes Pete Rose sound like a saint.  Perhaps the greatest catcher of all-time, but a total jerk as a human being.

 My lunch companion is named Patrick. We strangers hit it off though we did not talk politics. He has on a cap that said "Freedom 1776." I dare not go there. Couldn't take the chance it would spoil my baked fish and mashed potatoes.

It is he who comments that I sat in the corner so that I could see the entire dining room. I reminded him that Wild Bill Cody died on this date holding the deadman's hand of aces and eights with his back exposed. Not that I didn't feel safe where we were but I always feel better when no one can sneak up behind me. President Lincoln could vouch for that.
I comment that if someone lobbed a hand grenade into this tight restaurant it would probably kill us all. Patrick said at least we were close to the door and might have have a fighting chance of getting out safe. He goes on to relate that in the army he once had grenade training. No doubt the first person I've met with grenade training.
He commented on the book I had at the table.
"That's Ted Williams," he correctly observes. Ted is finishing a powerful swing on the cover.
He tellsme he grew up in Mobile, birthplace of Hank Aaron and they named a stadium after him.
I automatically like anyone from Mobile who mentions Hank Aaron.
Good lunch.

 To see a world in a grain of sand,

And a heaven in a wild flower Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
Oh, come on, Blake. Admit you're oh so early 19th Century. Nobody thinks like this anymore. You silly Romantic! We're too busy checking our smart phones, trying to keep our jobs, and worrying about the future to be playing with grains of sand and having visions of infinity in the palms of our hands. All I see in my palm is wrinkles. It's a good thing William Blake isn't alive today. We'd teach him a thing or two. (Nobody reads poetry anymore anyway so what's the point?)

 Though not playing cards, I sat at the back corner of the restaurant for lunch just now. You can’t be too careful these days. All of the restaurant was in front of me.

Monday, August 1, 2022

 One reason I am rereading Aldous Huxley of "Brave New World" fame is that we share an utter revulsion of today's mass culture and popular entertainment.

Although there are occasional breakthroughs like "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" and the humor and movies of Woody Allen, superficial though they may be, the vacuity and pointlessness of today's entertainment has increased precipitously since Huxley died in 1963. Sadly, I see no change in sight. The vast wasteland is endless.