Exceptional

When I was 14 years old, my dad’s company offered him a position in Tokyo, so we picked up and moved halfway across the world. I’ve always considered myself very lucky that I got to live outside the United States for three years and be a third-culture kid.

For those three years we were essentially cut off from anything happening back home. This was before the Web or e-mail, and long-distance phone calls were expensive. The two available English-language newspapers covered some American politics and foreign policy, but they were mostly internationally focused. I could go to the American Club every week to read a week-old Sunday New York Times, and during our last year and a half we had CNN, but that was about it. I basically have an American pop-culture void from 1988 to 1991. We landed at JFK in the summer of 1989 for a visit, and everyone was wearing Batman t-shirts. The following summer it was Bart Simpson t-shirts. It was overwhelmingly strange.

Living overseas gave me a perspective on this country that most Americans will never get to have: the perspective of an outsider. The perspective of a foreigner. Although I’ve been back here for almost 20 years, I have always carried some of that perspective with me. I’m forever thankful for it.

Yesterday I read this piece [via Matt Haughey], and it’s been resonating with me ever since.

It begins:

Americans, I have some bad news for you:

You have the worst quality of life in the developed world—by a wide margin.

It’s a pretty entertaining piece of writing, although some it is over the top. That said, it makes an excellent point near the beginning: most of what the American people accept as normal is not really normal. The frame through which Americans see things is distorted. There is so much that we accept in this country that people in the rest of developed world would never stand for.

First and foremost, our sub-par health care system.

Consider this: you are the only people in the developed world without a single-payer health system. Everyone in Western Europe, Japan, Canada, Australia, Singapore and New Zealand has a single-payer system. If they get sick, they can devote all their energies to getting well. If you get sick, you have to battle two things at once: your illness and the fear of financial ruin.

Our system is an outrage. And yet everyone thinks it’s normal.

We were living in Japan when Hirohito, the Emperor of Japan, died. At the time, I imagined a Kansas farmwife back in the U.S. saying to her husband, “I saw on the teevee that the king a’ China died!” Now, I’m sure most middle-aged Americans in 1989 remembered World War II and knew who Hirohito was. But the point is, most Americans don’t care or know about anything that happens outside the United States unless it involves someone attacking us.

Even though other countries have problems, ours are worse. Things here are just fucked up. Life here is seriously out of whack.

Our health care system sucks. Our taxes are too low. Our infrastructure is a shambles. I ride NJ Transit twice a week and those train cars are straight out of the 1970s, and they’re never on time, and a heavy rainstorm can shut things down. In most other developed countries, this would be unacceptable, but here we all accept it as normal. None of this is normal. Thomas Friedman and Nick Kristof are dead on.

It’s the Southernification of the United States. Before the Civil War, the north was innovating, building its infrastructure. The south wanted to remain a stratified, backwoods society. We should have let the South go like they wanted, because the Old South mentality controls the whole country today. It’s ridiculous.

It’s the Overton Window again. Our frame is completely distorted.

People need to stop feeling guilty for wanting health care and higher taxes and a good infrastructure. It is normal to want these things!

And in the rest of the developed world, it is normal to have them.

Americans need to wake the hell up.

Tax Cuts

Someone from the Democratic Party called me last night asking for money, and I said no.

That’s only partly because I’d been receiving a slew of “Blocked” calls on my cell phone over the last few weeks from someone who had refused to leave a message, and when I finally decided to answer one of those blocked calls last night, it turned out to be the Democratic Party asking for money to fund a recount of the U.S. House race on Long Island. The main reason I wasn’t giving the Democrats any money, I explained to the guy on the phone politely, was that they don’t deserve it. A party that keeps ceding the initiative to the opposition isn’t getting my cash.

Which brings me to this: I am so tired of the debate over what to do about the Bush tax cuts.

First of all, the reason the 2001 Bush tax cuts were supposed to expire after 10 years was to get around the Byrd Rule, which allows any senator to block a piece of legislation if it will significantly increase the deficit beyond 10 years. Cap the tax cuts at 10 years (and hey, we’ll revisit the issue in 10 years, *wink wink*) and apparently there would magically be no deficit problem.

And now look at how the goalposts have moved. During the 2008 campaign, Obama wasn’t talking about letting the Bush tax cuts expire. He and the Democrats were talking about ending them early! Extending any of the Bush tax cuts wasn’t even being discussed. Thank you, Overton window.

Now everyone is saying, oh no, we can’t return to the Clinton-era tax rates, not in the middle of a recession! That will hurt everyone!

I would like to think this isn’t true. First of all: unemployed people don’t pay income taxes, so expiration of the tax cuts will not affect them. Second of all, if you have a job, there is no reason to spend less in a recession than you would spend in a good economy; you still have a job. Why should the general economy affect how much you spend? I know things don’t work that way — people spend less because they are afraid they will lose their jobs. Economics are subject to human psychology as much as anything else.

I am mixed on whether to let the tax cuts expire on income below $250,000, to be honest. But more tax cuts for rich people? No way.

To argue as the Republicans would, let’s talk about personal responsibility. Americans always knew the Bush tax cuts would expire after 10 years. They should have been planning for it all along. Tax rates were always going to go back up in 2011. If this tax increase takes you by surprise, that’s your own damn fault.

Not that the Republicans are arguing this, of course. All they really care about are protecting rich people, because tax cuts are always good, because tax cuts are the new religion and you’re not supposed to think rationally about religion, you’re just supposed to have faith that’s it’s true, and if you believe in it hard enough then it is true, and anyway that’s what their team believes and they’re always a part of their team.

And I certainly don’t expect the Democrats to do what’s right and let the tax cuts expire, or to even form a coherent message, one that couldn’t be easier to understand: Republicans are holding middle-class tax cuts hostage to their rich friends. Coherency? Hell — the Bush tax cuts passed in a Democrat-controlled Senate in 2001, and twelve Democratic senators wound up voting for them.

Early this year I decided to become less emotionally invested in politics. The turning point was when it looked like Scott Brown was going to beat Martha Coakley and the poor Democrats responded by quaking in their boots, promising to cave in on health care reform, because, oh noes, we can’t do anything with only 59 seats.

Health care reform eventually passed, but I had already given up. It was their attitude that did it for me. Even Barney Frank had talked about giving in. At that point I decided it wasn’t worth personally investing myself in the Democratic Party, emotionally or otherwise. I stopped thinking of the Democrats as “my team.” I would keep rooting for them, but I wasn’t going to feel personally hurt or embarrassed if they lost. I washed my hands of them.

I’ve felt a lot better since then.

Kindle Follow-Up

I’ve had a Kindle for just over two weeks now. I was unsure whether I’d like it, but over the past two weeks I’ve decided that I like it a lot. I’ve gotten used to reading on it — although I keep going to Amazon.com’s “Look Inside” feature and doing a search so I can see how many pages I’ve “really” read. The Kindle’s progress bar isn’t really accurate with the book I’m reading, because it’s a history book, and all the footnotes, bibliography, etc. are at the end. The Kindle considers this end matter to be part of the book, so it includes it when calculating what percentage of the book I’ve read. It says I’ve read about 46 percent, but excluding the end matter, I’ve really read about 64 percent.

Last week we visited Matt’s parents, and it was great to have the Kindle with me. The only problem was that I couldn’t read it on the airplane during takeoff or landing. I’m not convinced that the Kindle can mess with a plane’s flying instruments, especially if you have the wireless turned off — the Kindle only draws power when you press a button to change what’s on the screen, so when you’re reading a page, it draws no power at all. But I didn’t want to disobey the flight attendants.

I should point out that I’m actually on my second Kindle. I returned the first one to Amazon because of a cosmetic issue — a slight dimple in one corner of the plastic casing that was noticeable in certain light and kept distracting me while I was reading. The return was pretty simple; I called Amazon and explained the problem, and a new Kindle arrived the very next day; all I had to do was put the old one in the box, print out and attach a shipping label, and take it to UPS.

My new Kindle has not been problem-free; a few times I haven’t been able to wake it up from sleep without rebooting the whole thing, and when I wake it up, the Kindle thinks the time is 4:00 and the list of recently-opened books is in the wrong order. It’s been a few days since this last happened, so maybe it was just a glitch and it won’t happen again.

Anyway — the Kindle’s great, and I’m glad I bought it.