Tuesday, July 20, 2021

A pair of poison pills



A pair of unsettling developments are on the horizon. And the horizon metaphor may be apt given that I'm discussing a pair of sunset laws, or laws with an expiration date. In other words, if these laws aren't renewed or updated they'll expire. So, what laws am I discussing? I'm referring to the child tax credit bill passed by Democrats this year and the tax cuts passed by Republicans in 2017. Both measures were passed on party-line votes. Both expire in time to be volatile fodder for upcoming political cycles. 

The more recent of these two measures, the child tax credit, expires in one year. This was part of the Democrats' most recent recovery package. It will probably prove to be popular with those receiving it and could prove to be an electrified third rail for politicians opposing it. The debate over extending it will take place next spring, just as the nation braces itself for midterm elections. Might this be a way for Democrats to expand their majorities in the federal Congress? Perhaps. 

Meanwhile, the tax cuts brought into law by the previous president and the Republicans when they had the a majority expire, somewhat, in time for the 2024 election. Normally, tax bills are ten-year pieces of legislation. However, if the 2017 tax bill is not renewed in 2024, the rates jump back to the pre-2018 rates for 2025. This early expiration served two purposes, one of which is financial. The bill scored less expensively when the rates expired after eight years. Thus the cuts looked less costly than they really were. Secondly, well, the extension or demise of the "Trump" tax cuts will occur during the presidential election. 

So, what we have here are two poison pills. They're evidence of cynical gameplay by our two parties. They're also evidence of what the strange world of filibusters and reconciliation bring to us. Bills that have to do with revenue (or federal judges) can get through on reconciliation. Thus they need no bipartisan cooperation. When government wants to show love, it gives money. In 2017 Republicans showed love to their constituents with tax cuts. Democrats to households with kids. For a long time I was ambivalent about the filibuster, but I now find myself wearying of it. It's something that can be gamed. Our two parties have figured out how to game it. It gets in the way of some meaningful changes (such as voter reform and the minimum wage) but not others (tax/spend bills and judicial confirmations). These poison pills, which will fill the airwaves in the next two election cycles, are predictable and should attract more attention and thought now before they become fodder in an election year. 

Monday, July 12, 2021

vs.

So, let me get this straight. The newest anti-abortion law in Texas empowers citizens to sue citizens for damages as a way of illegalizing abortion? That's how this article tells it. I cannot imagine how such a mechanism for enforcing a law can be Constitutional. I also cannot imagine something more symbolic of where the conservative movement in America has devolved. It's now truly a movement whose means and ends are to pit neighbor against neighbor. 

Tuesday, July 6, 2021

The U.S. Flag Code

The U.S. Flag code tells us it's a good idea to fly the American flag every day. There are about 20 days, however, in which it's especially encouraged to do so. Today is . . . 

It sounds like a proficiently-written script, doesn't it? It's how I started many days of class in 2021. And it's how I'll start many others this fall when I return to campus. 

The events of January 6, 2021 enraged me. Sickened me. Left me more despondent than I had been on any day that I can remember since September 11, 2001. I needed a constructive response, though. It was necessary for me to channel my fury over the events of that day in a way that would help me grow and set an example for the kids who look to me for guidance. Those would include the two at home, too. So, I decided it was time to reacquaint myself with the U.S. Flag Code, the not-legally-binding code of conduct regarding the flag produced by the U.S. Congress. It's a little long. But here it is: U.S. Flag Code.  

It's changed somewhat what I do in the classroom. On those days specified by the code, I lead the class in an exercise in which we talk about why the day has been set aside. Sometimes we do this light-heartedly. Sometimes it's more serious. At my house, meanwhile, it means I don't display the flag nearly as often. After all, I don't have lighting for it to be displayed overnight. But I think the practice of displaying it on those days set aside gives me something additional to be thoughtful about. 

Perhaps it makes passers-by wonder why it's up some days and not some others. July 4 (and this year July 5) are pretty obvious. But not too many know why I would fly it on March 29 or the third Saturday in May. Maybe they'll be interested in taking a look. 

A couple of moments on Sunday reminded me why I'm glad I've been doing this in 2021. First, there was a rather sad (but unsurprising article) over the way partisanship has twisted American's perception of the flag. It's a tough read, but worthwhile. That article greeted my day. My day closed with my reaction to something my son shared, namely that many on Instagram were posting protest messages about the flag in response to the injustices of which the posters are aware. Wow. It was like my son was seeing online in real time the problems that NY Times article had described. 

He was seeing, in real time, the consequences of weaponizing the flag and weaponizing patriotism the way many have in this past year. 

So it seems fitting and proper we end July 4 with properly folding the flag. 

My next project along these lines will concern the National Anthem. After all, there was a scandalous furor over the U.S. Women's Soccer Team yesterday regarding appropriate protocol during the National Anthem at a match. I use the word scandalous because of the way many worms misrepresented images to tell a lie about those women. The athletes did nothing wrong aside from not knowing the right direction to turn: toward the flag or toward the 98-year-old veteran performing the anthem. I guess it's time for me to pursue the text that confirms what someone I trust once told me, that out of reverence for the flag one doesn't applaud the performing of the national anthem.