In the Shadow of the Progressive Era, for Better and for Worse
The other day I took in, at a single glance, three headlines on the home page of the Washington Post. As they merged in my mind, they set me thinking back to the Progressive Era -- the decade from 1905-1915 -- that is arguably as pivotal as any in U.S. history and, for those of us who see a need for significant social change, perhaps more worth studying than any other decade.
It was a time when a Republican president with impeccable conservative
credentials, Theodore Roosevelt, could stake his political life on words
like these: "every man holds his property subject to the general right of the community to
regulate its use to whatever degree the public welfare may require it. ... Whenever
the alternative must be faced, I am for men and not for property." "The
welfare of each of us is dependent fundamentally upon the welfare of all of
us."
It was a time when there were no businesses "too big to
fail." The biggest business of all, Standard Oil, had its crimes and
abuses exposed in articles and a book that became the talk of the nation. TR
racked up plenty of political points by demanding that this trust, like others,
be broken up.
It was a time when experts began to use statistical methods
to measure the effects not only of trusts, but of poverty, crowded slum housing,
contaminated food, substandard education, and hundreds of other things. Armed
with such objective evidence, Progressives got laws passed that have saved and
improved innumerable lives ever since.
We still live in the long shadow cast by Progressivism, for
better and for worse. Though some things
have changed some have not, as the three articles I took in made clear.
Today, a president with impeccable liberal credentials echoes
TR's words. But he doesn't follow
through on that narrative nearly as rigorously. That liberal president (I read
in the
first of those WaPo articles) has allowed his Justice Department, in good
Progressive fashion, to impose an unprecedented fine on JPMorgan Chase. The
fabled House of Morgan will have to pay something like $13 billion -- more than
half of last year's profit.
But what about all the accumulated profits from the other years
since Morgan started peddling subprime mortgage packages and other derivatives that
it knew were dubious, at best? Those profits will more than compensate for
whatever pain Morgan feels from the fine, and they’ll keep the firm’s top execs
living in their accustomed uber-luxury.
Indeed, once Morgan’s accountants tote up the cost-benefit
analysis in good Progressive fashion, they’re bound to conclude that, in the
long run, the bank's miseeds were quite profitable. The obvious lesson is
simply to go on doing more of the same -- especially when Morgan knows that one
central tentet of Progressivism is long gone: Huge banks and corporations are now
considered too big to fail. So the fine is not likely to have much deterrent
effect at all
And 9t’s still very possible that Morgan, with its massive legal
war chest, will take the case all the way to the Supreme Court. Can we count on
today's Supreme Court to follow the public will and allow a harsh penalty to
stand? It's certainly doubtful. This is 2013.
How different things were in 1913, when Standard Oil, after
spending huge sums in court fighting the break-up order, took its case all the
way to the Supreme Court and lost, ending up with no choice but to organize its
own demise.
One IQ Point Spells Death
The Supreme Court was itself the subject of
the second article that caught my attention. It has agreed to decide
whether a convicted a murderer must be put to death by the state of Florida
because of ONE IQ point.
In 2002 the Court ruled that it was cruel and unusual
punishment to execute someone who is mentally disabled. That was far short of the
goal promoted by Progressives like
Clarence Darrow: declaring all capital punishment cruel, unusual, and hence
unacceptable.
And to limit the effect even further, the Court gave each
state the right to define "mentally disabled." Florida picked IQ 70
as the legal cutoff point. Anything above 70 and you can't claim that you're
mentally disabled. So Florida plans to execute Freddie Lee Hall, whose IQ, the
state’s tests showed, is at least 71.
Hall's lawyers argue what every psychologists knows: The
results of IQ tests are just approximations, at best. There's a heavy dose of
subjectivity in the scoring. And there are shelves of research questioning
whether IQ tests, even when administered by experts, tell us anything
definitive at all about someone's intelligence. But the Florida Supreme Court
has said, in effect, "Sorry, Freddy. We've got an objective measurement.
And you're one point too high to live."
That's one legacy of the darker side of the Progressive era.
Progressives were devoted to the newly arising cult of objectivity and statistical
measurement, with some unarguably humane results. But here we have a case --
and so many others could be cited -- where the same myth of the all-powerful
objective statistic may very well end up taking a life in a way that a more
liberal Supreme Court could easily consider cruel and unusual punishment.
It's only a bit of a stretch to see the $13B fine against
Morgan as part of the same pattern. Why, it's more than four times the size of
any previous fine against a financial giant! By pinning that enormous number on
Morgan's misdeeds, we may get a warm feeling of satisfaction, as if justice has
been served. And to warm our hearts more, some $4B of the settlement will
supposedly go to the victims of the huge bank's nefarious scheming.
But will $4B really be enough to compensate all of them (even
if they get it all, which historical precedent suggests is doubtful)? Every
foreclosure has effects that can never be quantified, not only in the lives of
the people evicted but in the lives of everyone they touch. Those effects
ripple out across their block, their neighborhood, their whole city. Sometimes
those effects leave dead bodies, quite literally, in their wake.
When foreclosures are rampant, as in the last few years, the
whole is greater, and potentially deadlier, than the sum of its parts. To try
to quantify all that seems foolish at best, callous at worst.
Yet the feeling of comfort provided by "hard
numbers" is part of the legacy of Progressivism that we still live with.
And as long as those "hard numbers" are so big, as in this case, they
make it easier for the public to live with the idea that some financial
institutions are still too big to fail. So the deadly cycle of boom and bust
goes on.
Humanity or Technical Rationality?
The Progressive faith in numbers also sheds light on the
third article I saw on the home page of the WaPo, the same story most
newsappers were headlining that day: The president's apology for the technical
failures of the Obamacare rollout and his assurance that he was bringing in the
top experts to fix it all ASAP.
Apparently there's plenty of blame to go around. But the
fundamental issue is that millions of Americans are equating the plan for
expanded health issurance with the computers that are so central to the plan --
or at least so the mass media tell us, in endless stories that are likely to be
self-fulfilling prophecies, at least in the short run.
It's
certainly possible that after a few months, while the enrollment period is
still open, those top experts will succeed, the problems will be pretty much
fixed, and the millions who crashed the system in its first days because they
were so eager to get health insurance will reach their goal.
Yet to turn this into a gripping story -- and after all
that's how they make their money -- the mass media have to persuade us that
it's equally possible the public will give up on the whole plan before the
experts can do the job. In that case, milliions will lose health care, and
thousands will die, because a potentially humane health care program was judged
by the quality of its of digital computing.
The idea that government should take responsibility for the
health of all is a direct descendant of the Progressive era. But so is the digital
age, harking back to the Progressive faith that everything can be reduced to
numbers. In the case of computing, it’s a faith in two little digits, one and
zero. More broadly, it’s a faith that the right machines will save us --
machines that only experts can design, build, and maintain.
Even more broadly,
the digitial age is the culmination of the rule of technical reason that first
emerged so clearly in the heyday of Progressivism. It was hardly just an
American phenomenon, though some would argue that Americans have carried it to
its furthest extreme. But Americans were also slowest to recognize its dangers.
By the time Progressivism was sweeping this nation, European
intellectuals were already beginning to warn about those dangers. The new mode
of rationality cared only about calculating what means could reach any given
end most efficiently. Reducing everything to numbers was a necessary first step
in making those calculations. But what numbers and technical means-ends
reasoning could never tell us was the ultimate value of the ends that society
was seeking.
In fact, they argued, modern society was losing the very
ability to ask about ultimate goals. We were building machines meant to serve
us and make our lives better, but then letting the machines become our masters,
determining the quality and the very fabric of our lives. Keeping the machines
going -- maintaining a dependable, seemingly rational order -- became not
merely a means to an end but the very purpose of society.
People who make the whole value of Obamacare depend on the
smooth function of the computers are making a similar mistake. If the tools
don't work, of course they should be fixed. But the tools are only the means to
the goal. The goal should not be equated with, or judged by, the quality of the
tools.
Yet we can make that mistake so easily because we are so
quick to reduce reality to its virtual, computerized version. That, too, is
ultimately a legacy of the Progressive faith in numbers, experts, and
machines.
The computerization of medical care, like the Progressive
era itself, yields us an ambiguous fate. I've seen (at the Mayo clinic) how
immensely helpful a well-oiled, fully computerized, medical system can be. I
want all my medical records in a national data bank accessible to any provider
I visit, despite the risks to my privacy, which I believe are a price worth
paying.
But I do not want my medical providers, medical insurers, or
anyone else to be so mesmerized by numbers, computers, and the myth of perfect
objectivity that they cannot see me, the human being in front of them.
Nor do I want the public so mesmerized by the huge number
$13 billion that it cannot see all the human beings whose lives continue to be
ruined by corporations that remain fundamentally unchecked because they are
deemed “too big to fail.”
And I certainly don’t want the Supreme Court so mesmerized
by numbers and the myth of objectivity that it cannot see the humanity of
Freddie Lee Hall. Though I personally find all capital punishment to be cruel,
and would like to see it become not just unusual but unthinkable, there seems
little doubt that the Supreme Court in 2002 meant to make Mr. Hall’s execution
legally “cruel and unusual.”
But there’s every possibility that in this case, too, the
Progressive era’s devotion to numbers and objectivity will triumph over its
undeniable concern for the value of human life.
PS: Just a day after these three articles appeared, as if to
underscore the point, the WaPo offered another
story explaining how our misguided trust in the "pinpoint"
guidance systems of drones, guided by computers thousands of miles away, has
killed far more people than most Americans would want to admit, or perhaps even
think about. Yet the president assures us that in this case, too, he’s got
experts refining the digital technology to fix the problem of “excessive
collateral damage.”