Jane Jacobs, Peter Viereck, and the Abandonment of Hope

By Michael F. Duggan

There isn’t much in the world that give me hope these days, but I sometimes take solace in the beauty and power of ideas. Sometimes the ideas themselves give me hope as faint possibilities by which to address the world’s problems. Two people whose ideas have given me hope were Jane Jacobs and Peter Viereck. Besides being almost exact contemporaries—both were born in 1916 and died in 2006—they were brilliant thinkers of startling insight and originality with distinctive writing styles.

Jacobs is most famous for her landmark book, The Death and Life of Great American Cities, but I think her most important work might be Cities and the Wealth of Nations. Here she makes the case that economies are naturalistic phenomena and that the best basis for an economy is the natural production region centered on an import-shifting city. Under such an arrangement, the world order would be based on a community of nations set up on such regions. To me, this idea makes much more sense than the prescriptions of Smith, Marx, or even Kenyes.

The initial problem is how to set up such a world order. Transforming the current world order into the model of Jacobs would be impossible. The powerful would never allow it. Even if it was possible, it would likely not last long; Jacobs might have been a natural-born genius with an intuitive understanding of how cities and their economies functioned, but she might not have understood how power functions in the world (although, to be fair, she stood up to Robert Moses and defeated him on his own ground—no small task). In reality, power aggregates, and even if her prescription could be implemented, it would likely not last as the most aggressive leaders of the world would consolidate their power and take over less aggressive neighbors.

Peter Viereck was a Pulitzer Prize-winning poet and a political thinker of the first order. In the late 1940s and 1950s, he fought with William F. Buckley for the soul of American conservatism and lost. His model of true conservatism is nothing like the reactionary radicalism that we call “conservatism” today. For him it was was a moderate and high-minded form of realism. It was political gradualism toward progress and not the strident, rollback extremism of today’s far right who erroneously call themselves conservatives.

Like liberals of then and now, Viereck believed in progress, but held that it had to be gradual in order to keep what worked while changing that which did not. In Viereck’s analysis, quick change often resulted in instability and eventually violence (e.g. the Terror of the French Revolution, the U.S. Civil War, the Russian Revolution). People were imperfect in Viereck’s estimation—flawed by nature—and thus required strong cultural traditions, strong laws, and good, but strong, republican governance. He also believed in a liberal arts education for all citizens and that intellectually every person could be raise to the level of a cultural aristocrat. One could only study other cultures, but only after achieving a fluency in one’s own. Viereck also believed that when gradualism did not work or proved insufficient to meet a crisis, a system had to adopt more sweeping approaches. He was therefore a conservative that supported the New Deal.

As with Jacobs’ ideas, it is hard to imagine imagine the gradualism of Viereck working today outside of the judiciary (and even the U.S. judicial system at the highest level has become increasingly radicalized). Domestically the country is too deeply divided and too diverse for gradual solutions to work, and at this point, the crises of the environment now require the strongest and most sweeping non-utopian approaches. And so the wonderful model of conservatism as gradual progressivism looks like a dead letter.

The question then becomes: if the prescriptive models of two of the most insightful, most sensible thinkers of the 20th century have been rendered nonstarters, then what is the basis for any hope at all?

Biden, for the Record

By Michael F. Duggan

I was never crazy about Senator Joe Biden. He seemed to embody so much of the mediocrity and cynicism of the Democratic Party of the post-New Deal paradigm. I also do not like his dangerous escalatory policies driving the Russo-Ukrainian War. That said, let’s look at what he and his administration have accomplished:

  • American Rescue Plan ($1.9 trillion)
  • 200 million vaccinations administered during his first 100 days, twice the number promised
  • Infrastructure Bill ($2 trillion)
  • The decisive withdrawal from the fruitless twenty-year U.S. War in Afghanistan
  • Bipartisan Safer Communities Act (the gun safety bill; the first federal gun legislation passed in 28 years)
  • CHIPS and Science Act
  • PACT Act (Veterans’ Healthcare)
  • The appointment of 75 federal judges to date (more than any president to this point in an administration since JFK)
  • The appointment of Ketanji Jackson to the Supreme Court of the United States
  • Student Loan Relief
  • The killing of Ayman al-Zawahiri
  • The Inflation Reduction Act (if it had not been for two obstructive members of the Democratic caucus, the far more robust Build Back Better Bill would have been enacted into law).
  • Unemployment is at its lowest rate in 50 years

Work still remains to be done (the John Lewis Voting Rights Bill remains unpassed, illegal immigration remains high, and we must do much, much more to address the crises of the environment). But as far as domestic accomplishments go, this has been a significant first year-and-a-half, especially given how evenly divided the Senate is. It is reminiscent of the days of the great named domestic programs like the the Square Deal, the New Freedom, New Deal, the Fair Deal, the New Frontier, and the Great Society. It is reminiscent of the days when Americans still thought big for the public good. One can only wonder when the Democratic Party and the “liberal” media are going to start trumpeting these accomplishments.

The Southern Offensive

By Michael F. Duggan

For several weeks the Western media has been reporting on an existing or impending Ukrainian counteroffensive in the southeastern part of the country in and around the Kherson between Crimea and the Donbas region. Now we are told that it has begun in earnest.

Two months ago, I wrote on this blog that one of the possible courses the conflict could take would be an open-ended war of position in Eastern Ukraine (see “Summer in Ukraine,” June 13, 2022). Anatol Lieven of the Quincy Institute recently wrote that technological advances have created a new paradigm-shifting defensive revolution in weaponry and therefore in war itself.1 Is the age of Blitzkrieg in conventional warfare really over?

The first defensive revolution lasted from roughly the late 18th century to the final stages of the First World War. The defensive is the naturally stronger mode of war, and the initial phases of the Industrial Revolution—the “Age of Coal and Steam”—rendered it geometrically more powerful than the offensive mode (whose technological requirements tended to be more complex, and required the advances of the “Age of Petroleum and Electricity”). Thus the initial defensive revolution gave us smokeless gunpowder and flat-trajectory bullets, repeating rifles, heavy automatic weapons, barbed wire, and massed infantry attacks, while the Offensive Revolution (roughly 1915-1945) gave us tanks, attack aircraft, light automatic weapons, airborne infantry, modern small unit tactics, and combined forces offensives.

If Lieven is correct, then the days of the typical post-1939 armor-spearheaded combined forces attack might be numbered. Precision-guided munitions, light antitank missiles, and weaponized drones might be making the strategies that worked so well for Gudarian, Patton, Rommel, Zhukov, and Schwarzkopf things of the past (i.e. they might be neutralizing offensive shock, a frequently decisive element in war). Certainly the initial Russian invasion was blunted by Ukrainian defenders with the latest in Western weaponry, and in recent months deadlock has set in. At the very least, the two modes may be balancing-out, or they may be shifting back into tactical, operational, and strategic indecisiveness—a modern analog to the situation on the Western Front from the fall of 1914 until the summer of 1918. If this is true, then it is possible that, as was the case in First World War, offensives will become more and more costly while gaining less and less. It will be a case of diminishing returns in an already costly war.

What does this mean for the current offensive in eastern Ukraine? It could mean one of two things. First, if the dominant mode of modern conventional combat has shifted back in favor of the defense, Ukrainian forces could impale themselves on fixed Russian positions. During the period from the 1770s through World War One, many battles were won on the defensive. These include the Cowpens, Buscao, Sorauren, New Orleans, Waterloo, Balaklava, the decimation of the Light Brigade, Malvern Hill, Fredericksburg, Gettysburg, Chickasaw Bluffs, Cold Harbor, Kennesaw Mountain, and the Marne). Even if the Ukrainians are not defeated outright, they could take disproportional casualties with little or no gain.

The other possibility is that the death of the modern offensive has been greatly exaggerated and that the Ukrainians will be able to make substantial gains. This would be good for the anti-Russian forces in a tactical sense, but would be unacceptable to the Russians, causing them to push back even harder (i.e. a Ukrainian victory would trigger another round of escalation). John Mearsheimer has warned, there would be a dangerous irony —”a perverse paradox”—to a Ukrainian/Western victory in that the better they do, the greater the chances that the Russians will use tactical nuclear weapons.2 Tactical victory for the West could therefore lead to a strategic catastrophe for everybody that might include a nuclear war between the United States and Russia. The Russians have already made it clear that they regard NATO expansion and its military support of Ukraine to be existential threats. As Mearsheimer also points out, the Russians will not give up hard-won territory—will defend it at any cost—and the Ukrainians will not tolerate Russian forces within its prewar borders. And so it goes.

The Southern Offensive has begun, and regardless of who wins, the result will be an increased danger of a broader, intensified war.

Notes
1. https://responsiblestatecraft.org/2022/08/25/six-months-after-russian-invasion-a-bloody-stalemate-a-struggle-for-peace/
2. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qciVozNtCDM&fbclid=IwAR207AWrebrJ5u1iUP3J1bVZpfrU0mf2DK2wTcQaIEEmAXriSKJeQNfVua4 (See minutes 101.15-103,15).

“We were Lucky to have Him,” David McCullough

By Michael F. Duggan

Biographer and Historian, David McCullough, is gone at 89. The author of at least 13 books (including interview volumes), he was sometimes written off by academic types as a popular historian and a writer of narrative history. But with two Francis Parkman Prizes, two National Book Awards, two Pulitzer Prizes, a Presidential Medal of Freedom, around 40 honorary degrees, and a wonderful prose style, I suspect that it didn’t bother him too much. I also suspect that they envied his book sales.

If he had a flaw, it was that he was too nice. He genuinely liked the people he wrote about and admitted as much. John Adams was probably not as likable as he made him out to be, and I am confident that Harry Truman was not that great of a president. When I was in graduate school, I wrote to McCullough and told him that, in the opinion of one history Ph.D. candidate, Truman was not a president of the front rank, that he did not rise to the level of a Washington, a Lincoln, or a Franklin Roosevelt. He wrote back and conceded the point, concluding “…but we were lucky to have him.”

I had the good fortune to meet McCullough a year or two later, about four or five months after I finished my doctorate. He was at my former place of employment, visiting one of the big shots there. A secretary tipped me off earlier in the week that he was coming and said that I could come down to meet him and get a book signed. He was exactly as I imagined him to be—almost too good to be true—a true gentleman. The guy you saw on TV was the real guy. He asked about my dissertation topic and had some impressive insights. With an abundance of generosity and in an impeccable hand, he signed my copy of Mornings on Horseback, his biography of of Theodore Roosevelt: “For Mike Duggan, fellow historian, with my best wishes, David McCullough. October 8, 2002.”

McCullough was far more optimistic about the American Experiment than I am, but I am glad that there are people like him in the world and in the calling. For me he will always be the warm, unmistakable voice of the early Ken Burns films, especially The Civil War. We were lucky to have him.

James Lovelock, the Gaia Guy

By Michael F. Duggan

Science has lost another giant. James Lovelock, the Gaia guy is gone at 103.

I have to admit that when I first heard of the Gaia hypothesis, I didn’t like it. It had been explained to me imperfectly and seemed too broad, too metaphysical. It did not strike me as a scientific theory at all, but rather, at best, was an untestable metatheory, an organon. But the more I read, the more impressed I became. Besides, taken as a natural historical description, evolution is also untestable (although both ideas have elements that can be tested; Lovelock, with Andrew Watson, devised the Daisy World model in 1983 to test the idea of self-regulating systems).

The idea is that the Earth’s biosphere is a living, self-regulating system. Analyzing data about the Martian atmosphere while working at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory with Carl Sagan in the 1950s, Lovelock noticed that “unlike Earth’s blanket of gases, Mars’s atmosphere was locked into the same kind of dead chemical equlibrium as as that of Venus.” (Frank 2018, 124). “It came to me suddenly, like a flash of enlightenment, that [for the chemistry of Earth’s atmosphere] to persist and keep stable, something must be regulating it… It dawned on me that somehow life was regulating the climate as well as the atmosphere. Suddenly the image of the Earth as a living organism able to regulate its temperature and chemistry at a comfortable steady state emerged in my mind.” (Frank, 2018, 124). Far from being New Agey murk, this was the recognition that the biosphere regulates itself as a steady state rather than chemical equlibrium. The name Gaia was suggested to him by William Golding of The Lord of the Flies fame (Gaia is the Greek Earth goddess). (Frank 124-25). Sagan’s wife, Lynn Margulis (1938-2011) helped develop the idea and pushed for its acceptance.

As Adam Frank explains in his book, Light of the Stars, the implications of this idea are huge. Photosynthetic bacteria produce oxygen that keeps the Earth’s atmosphere at a steady state with around 21% oxygen. “But why did oxygen levels rise up to 21% and nor further? This is an important question, because if the concentration of oxygen in the air were to climb as high as 30 percent, the planet would become a tinderbox. Any lightning strike would create fires that wouldn’t stop.” (Frank 2018, 126). It all had to do with negative feedback from the living world. I now believe that the Gaia hypothesis was one of the greatest ideas of the 20th-century.

As I have written before, Lovelock’s and Margulis’s ideas of a self-regulating biosphere are highly suggestive and even more relevant in a time of pandemic. What if we have it all backward? What if the planet is the fevered patient, that we are the pathogen or imbalance, that COVID-19 is the planet’s immune response, and the vaccines and antivirals is the disease trying to outsmart the immune response?

Gerda Taro

By Michael F. Duggan

Eighty-five years ago this Tuesday, Gerda Taro (1910-1937), “The Girl with the Leica” (she also used a Rollei), was killed during the Loyalist retreat at the Battle of Brunete in the Spanish Civil War. She is believed to be the first female photojournalist killed in combat.

The Spanish Civil War (1936-39) was a particularly vicious conflict; civil wars usually are. In terms of atrocities, modern armor, and strategic bombing—to include the bombing of civilians—it was a dry run for World War II. On one side were the Loyalists or Republicans who represented the legitimate government of the Second Spanish Republic. They were supported by an assortment of anarchists, democrats, socialists, and communists representing the Popular Front as well as the foreign volunteers of the International Brigades (e.g the Abraham Lincoln Brigade, whose last known surviving member, Delmer Berg, died in 2016). They were also supported by Mexico and the Soviet Union. On the other side were the Nationalists of General Francisco Franco, who launched a coup in July 1936. The Nationalists were supported by fascist Italy and Nazi Germany. The Nationalists won, and Franco governed Spain until his death in 1975.

The journalists who covered the war included Claude Cockburn, John Dos Passos, Floyd Gibbons, George Seldes, George Orwell, and Ernest Hemingway and Martha Gellhorn, to name a few.

Taro’s real name was Gerta Pohorylle. She was born in Stuttgart on August 1, 1910 to Jewish parents. She fled Nazi Germany in the early 1930s and relocated to Paris where she met a young Hungarian photographer named Endre Friedmann. She would change her name to Taro (after a Japanese painter); Friedmann changed his name to Robert Capa. In 1936 the pair traveled to Barcelona to cover the war in Spain. Like all war photographers, Taro shot the war from the front, distancing herself from Capa (who had proposed to her) and working alone. It has been suggested that Taro actually took the “Falling Soldier” (“Loyalist Soldier at the Moment of Death”) photograph attributed to Capa, and one of the most famous war photographs of all time.

There are two different accounts of the accident that resulted in her death. The first states that on July 25, 1937, she was standing on the runningboard of a car carrying wounded when a tank crashed into it. The other account holds that a tank backed up without warning, running over her.1 She died the following day. Six days later, on the day she would have turned 27, there was a parade in her honor in Paris. She is interred at the Cimetiere du Pere-Lachaise.

Capa went on to cover WWII, taking some of the most well-known photographs of the D-Day landing and became a legend. After the war he reported from the USSR and Israel during its founding. He was killed by a landmine on March 25, 1954 near Thai Binh during the First Indochina War.

In 2010, a suitcase turned up with more than 4,000 previously unpublished negative images by Capa and Taro (126 rolls of film). They are the subject of the 2011 film, The Mexican Suitcase.

Note
Mark Kurlansky, The Importance of Not Being Ernest, (Coral Gables, FL: Books & Books Press, 2022), 119.

NYC’s ICBM PSA

By Michael F. Duggan

When I was in fourth grade, my teacher, Mrs. T_______, a tough-minded holdover from the late Cretaceous Period, made us do the famous under-the-desk, “duck and cover” drills on Wednesdays at 11:00 AM when the country tested its air raid sirens. The logic being that the protective qualities of our diminutive fourth grade desks would shield us from the dozens of multi-megaton ICBMs the Soviets had targeted on the Greater Washington D.C. area. It was the early 1970s, and most teachers had abandoned the practice years before.

With no end to the fighting in sight in the Russo-Ukrainian War, New York City issued a public service announcement last week that is essentially a 2022 version of a 1950s Civil Defense primer on what to do when the bombs fall. Although the benefits of ducking and covering in a Manhattan highrise condo would likely be of dubious value in the face of a strategic nuclear barrage, it looks as if one jurisdiction has come to realize the apocalyptic danger of the escalating situation between NATO and Russia in Ukraine.

Wilderstein

By Michael F. Duggan

This past week, my girlfriend and I spent a few days in Rhinebeck. It was our first getaway alone since the beginning of the pandemic.

After taking in the town, a day trip to the Catskills, and a sighting of a celebrity writer in a local restaurant, we were up for the main event: a 1920s-theme lawn party/annual fundraiser at Wilderstein, Margaret “Daisy” Suckley’s Queen Anne-style river house a few miles south of town. Suckley was Franklin Roosevelt’s distant cousin and confidante, and the subject of the charming, if inaccurate, 2012 film Hyde Park on Hudson (Olivia Coleman, Bill Murray, Laura Linney, Samuel West).

When Daisy died at the age of 99 in 1991, they found a suitcase full of letters and diaries under her bed. It seems that Roosevelt’s cousin, dismissed by his handlers as the “little brown mud wren,” was actually the ultimate fly on the wall—a keen observer who wrote down everything. Unlike everybody else, Suckley wanted nothing from Roosevelt besides friendship, and was discreet. He trusted her and confided in her. The collection of her letters and diaries, Closest Companion (Geoffrey Ward, ed., 1995), is an invaluable contribution to the historiography of the Roosevelt administration.

Rescued from demolition and dilapidation in the 1990s, Wilderstein is now a privately-operated historical site, not state or federal. So if you are looking for a for a non-profit organization for a tax-deductible donation in historical preservation, I recommend the Wilderstein Historic Site. It is administered by a good bunch and the house is one of the best Victorians I have ever seen (originally built in a Federal or Italianate style).

More importantly, Margaret Suckely is a significant historical witness and deserves to be remembered in her own right (she also gave Fala to FDR). Anybody planning a trip to or through the Mid-Hudson Valley should stop by, take the tour, and enjoy the trails on the property and the spectacular view of the river from the lawn, it is the best I have seen and better than the one shared by Franklin and Eleanor at Hyde Park.

The address is:
Wilderstein Historic Site
330 Morton Road/PO Box 383
Rhinebeck, NY 12572

Kaliningrad

By Michael F. Duggan

In recent days, there have been reports of rockets landing in Russia. Lithuania has now said that it would deny Russian overland access to its Baltic enclave, Kaliningrad, in essence, denying Russia access to its own territory. Russia has declared that it would respond (it would be ironic if Russia implemented a strategy modeled on the Berlin Airlift to resupply this territory).

When I observed to a friend that there are now multiple avenues for a possible catastrophic escalation between NATO and Russia, he replied “Possible escalation? The real question is how can it not escalate?”

The Law and Normative Legitimacy

By Michael F. Duggan

“Young man, about seventy-five years ago I learned that I was not God. And so, when the people… want to do something and I can’t find anything in the Constitution expressly forbidding them to do it, I say, whether or not I like it, ‘Goddamn it, let ’em do it.'”
-Oliver Wendel Holmes, Jr.

Reduced to its constituent elements, the law consists of the rule (statutes, regulations, executive orders, and the holdings of case law), general compliance with the rule by a majority of people, and enforcement against those who do not comply with it. If any of these elements is missing, the law, as a practical matter, ceases to exist. And the law is fundamentally a practical matter. When it becomes impractical, it becomes dry fiction.

The cornerstone of legal realism is that although the law and morality are not identical—the law is a set of external rules where morality consists of the feelings of right and wrong that rise up in us—law must exist in proximity to a nation’s normative morality and must reflect this in its spirit. It must reflect a majority ethos. As Holmes put it in “The Path of the Law,” “The law is the witness and deposit of our moral life.” In The Common Law, he writes “The first responsibility of a sound body of law is that it should correspond with the actual feelings and demands of the community, whether right or wrong.” When it comes to federal case law regarding fundamental rights, the “community” is the entire country (“fundamental” translates to “universal” within a nation). You do not throw questions on fundamental rights back to the states. That’s how we got Jim Crow.

Because of this, the Ninth Amendment provision securing other rights “retained by the people,” far from being the “inkblot” characterized by Robert Bork, would seem to be an interpretive cornerstone of the Constitution. If a historical tradition or a longstanding precedent can be shown—for example, a case law precedent upholding an unenumerated fundamental right for almost a half-century that is embraced by a majority of people in the country—it seems reasonable that that right is protected under the Ninth Amendment.

Federal judges are not elected, they are nominated and confirmed via a constitutionally-prescribed process. The idea is to keep decisions removed from the passions and prejudices of the people by a degree of separation while maintaining its proximity to the dominant, normative morality. Judges and justices are drawn from the people, after all. The idea is that fundamental rights should be beyond the feelings of the moment and should not be put to popular votes (this is a reason why the Framers thought it necessary to enshrine some rights in a Bill of Rights). So there it is: constitutional fine-tuning to preserve a normative basis for law, but no popular referendums to get rid of fundamental rights.

But what would happen in a deeply-divided nation where jurists are nominated by presidents and confirmed or opposed by members of legislative bodies controlled by strongly ideological political parties specifically because of the candidate’s ideological prejudices and fervor? Article II of the Constitution says that the Senate shall give “advice and consent” in regard to nominations. It does not say that political operatives and ideological extremists elected to the Congress may obstruct, delay, or even fail to entertain the nomination of a qualified judicial candidate for political or ideological reasons until more politically favorable circumstances present themselves.

If the Senate Judiciary Committee does not, for example, entertain the nomination of a qualified candidate put forth by a two-term president for 293 days, allowing a subsequent president to fill that slot because of overt political obstruction, can we say that the confirmed candidate is constitutionally legitimate? If the same political party that obstructed the first candidate reverses its position and rushes through the confirmation of a one-term president who was not elected by a popular majority and is now facing imminent defeat in a looming general election, can we call that candidate’s confirmation to be legitimate?

If these two jurists then side with a ruling that goes squarely against a half-century of precedent regarding a fundamental right—a precedent upheld in decisions of that court and embraced by a majority of American citizens—how can we say that the new precedent has normative legitimacy?

The tightrope that a healthy republic must walk is to implement the will of the majority while protecting the rights of political minorities. We can only speculate on the unhappy fate of a system that inverts this, where political minorities trample the fundamental rights embraced by the majority. The situation would seem to make the divisions in this country deeper and wider than ever and perhaps beyond repair. IT would seem to make a constitutional crises inevitable somewhere down the road.