Z Reviews

The Essential Kierkegaard

2012-01-17T03:17:00.000-05:00

The Essential Kierkegaard, edited by Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000. 524 pp., $29.95.

Kierkegaard is not light reading, nor is he easy to summarize or even paraphrase. I am not a philosopher by training, and I fully admit to being out of my league here. There is a fair amount that I do not understand, despite having a fair grasp on Danish and after having taken a class on the author. But there are so many exquisite essays in this collection that I cannot fail to be impressed with this man's mind. Kierkegaard forces me to think and think hard. His writings force me to confront my assumptions and my religious beliefs. He forces me to dig a little deeper than is comfortable. And for all that I am grateful.

This abridged collection of Kierkegaard's work follows the author chronologically, with large selections from his most famous works, including Either/Or, Fear and Trembling, Concluding Unscientific Postscript, Works of Love, and The Sickness Unto Death. I fear I cannot begin to summarize these works but only cite of my favorite lines. From The Concept of Anxiety (p. 153):

This is an adventure that every human being must go through--to learn to be anxious in order that he may not perish either by never having been in anxiety or by succumbing in anxiety. Whoever has learned to be anxious in the right way has learned the ultimate....Anxiety is freedom's possibility, and only such anxiety is through faith absolutely educative, because it consumes all finite ends and discovers all their deceptiveness.

From Concluding Unscientific Postscript (p. 207):

Truth is precisely the daring venture of choosing the objective uncertainty with the passion of the infinite....But the definition of truth stated above is a paraphrasing of faith. Without risk, no faith. Faith is the contradiction between the infinite passion of inwardness and the objective uncertainty.

From The Sickness Unto Death (p. 361):

Sin is: before God, or with the conception of God, in despair not to will to be oneself or in despair to will to be oneself. Thus sin is intensified weakness or intensified defiance: sin is the intensification of despair.

I could go on, as this book is replete with underlined and starred passages along with my own thoughts in the margins. I think the passages above highlight, however, part of why I love Kierkegaard's writings so much: he deals with the ambiguities and complexities of a Christian life. Living a life of faith or striving for something better while recognizing one's faults is challenging and subject to each individual's experiences. Generally considered the father of existentialism, Kierkegaard is able to combine the importance of the individual experience with the Christian narrative, something subsequent existentialists were unable or unwilling to do.

The Hongs have dedicated their career to compiling, translating, and reinterpreting the works of Soren Kierkegaard. Their scholarly dedication is quite clear in this compilation. Footnotes are very helpful, the summaries at the beginning of each chapter provide valuable context, and references to the original books are clear but unobtrusive. I found the font a bit small, which became somewhat discouraging through some of the larger and more obscure works. But after nearly two years ago, three moves, a new job, a new son, and living in a new country, I was able to make it through the whole book. The journey was well worth it.

The Alliance

2012-01-15T16:28:00.000-05:00

The Alliance by Gerald N. Lund. Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1983. 329 pp., $18.99.

This is my wife's favorite book of all time, and comes in pretty high on my own list as well. Just prior to departing on our epic vacation to Salt Lake City and Honolulu, I sat down one Sunday in December to reread this classic. (Again, as noted before, I was avoiding Kierkegaard at all costs.) As always, the novel did not disappoint. Fast-paced, imaginative, and containing all the necessary components of a well-thought out dystopia, this novel is the best science fiction novel I have read.

Unlike most dystopias, in Lund's novel the nuclear war has already occurred. World War III has wiped out most of the United States, and only pockets of survivors are found in areas that were not directly hit by nuclear and biological weapons. The novel starts with the world in the early phases of trying to rebuild itself, with a group of survivors in Star Valley, Wyoming quietly living as their pioneer ancestors did. Their pseudo-Eden is quickly shattered however when they are forcibly relocated to the Alliance, a growing society intent on rebuilding civilization without the horrors of war or violence. The method for removing these ills of society is an implant in the brain which conditions individuals to avoid incorrect thoughts and behavior.

Eric Lloyd, the protagonist of the novel, quickly sees through the pernicious effects of such a false utopia. The implants rob citizens in the Alliance of their ability to make choices themselves and ultimately undermines the good intentions behind the society. Thwarting the implant system is no easy task, however, and Lloyd goes to great lengths to free himself, his family, and ultimately the society from their electronic shackles.

The focus on free agency is a familiar track for many dystopias; but Lund is particularly adept in this realm because of his well-envisioned world and cogent dialogue between the characters regarding the positives and negatives of personal choice. I am often frustrated by the lack of honest consideration of the very real downsides of agency in dystopic novels: the protagonist is without moral flaws and a post-dystopic society flourishes with no downsides. The Alliance does a decent job of reminding the reader why we so often seek to build utopias in the first place. A world of choices is a world of ambiguity, uncertainty, and--frequently--failure. Human beings are always striving to better the world; Lund reminds us there is no quick shortcuts in this path however. And there very well may be limits to just how much we can improve society. The truth is, without a higher source of inspiration, human society will be unable to rise above our "nasty, petty, and cruel" state.

But I don't read The Alliance for a moral lesson really. The action, fast pace, and intriguing world are the real draw of this book. Lund places the action in a world that is similar enough to this one I can relate but far enough removed in time and events that I can still get lost in the fiction thereof. The first time I read this book, I started it at 8pm and read all night. Every time I said I would read just one more chapter, there was something new and exciting waiting that I just had to check out. Even now, I find it difficult to put down. That is the true mark of a good science fiction novel.

Farenheit 451

2011-12-11T00:09:00.001-05:00

Farenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. New York: Ballantine Books, 1996 (first published 1953). $15.00, 179 pp.

I spent a couple Sundays in November rereading some of my favorite dystopic science fiction novels, and this classic was at the top of that list. Originally published in 1953, Bradbury's warning polemic against illiteracy, censorship, and entertaining distractions still rings true today. The author has an excellent writing style, the book is fast-paced but filled with evocative details, and I have to stop after reading to think about the underlying themes. What more could one want from a science fiction novel?

The book is set in a future America on the brink of war with a Soviet-like foreign aggressor. The domestic population, meanwhile, remains utterly impervious to the impending horrors of nuclear war, nestled as they are in their cocoons of ignorance and distractions. Firefighters in this world serve as the bulwarks against self-awareness and knowledge with the task of burning books and the heretics who would claim that historical knowledge, context, and complexity are necessary for the well-being of any society.

The protagonist of the novel, Guy Montag, is a firefighter who has spent his life burning books, but now encounters a crisis of faith when he confronts a young girl who thinks about the world she lives in. Like many dystopias, the world quickly unravels once the protagonist--armed with the knowledge that he is living in a sick society that does not know it is sick--begins to question and fight against the stated claims of his society.

In reading the novel this time, I was struck by two observations that undermine the author's thesis. First, Bradbury and other dystopic authors from the 20th century appear to universally overstate new technology trends while simultaneously failing to creativity imagine how such technologies could benefit the moral character of society. Bradbury foresaw no future for the radio and felt that television would quickly degenerate into bread and circuses. While I certainly agree that the form of media matters (see my review of Neil Postman's book on the subject), surely even Bradbury would have to acknowledge that television has also enabled broader audiences for intellectual discussions and has given birth to other, more interactive media via the internet. And lest we forget, radio is alive and well and may even be entering a renaissance era with podcasts and Pandora helping it along. No one technology or media trend has so captured society as to remove all other forms of interaction or discourse. And as such, we are left with the positives and negatives of many innovations, forms of media, and political inclinations.

Second, Bradbury takes himself and his message a bit too seriously. The ultimate message I take away from Guy Montag and his traveling companions/walking library at the end of the novel is that we should never be so presumptuous as to believe that our era has all the answers. Yet in an ironic way, the author establishes himself as a literary prophet, guiding society past the ills of censorship and frivolous entertainment. This tone is condescending at times, especially in the coda (written in 1979) and afterword (written in 1982).

With that said, I still love the book for its excellent story, important message, and imaginative world. In my own life, I have my seashells, talking walls (my screens are admittedly much smaller though), fast transportation, and distracting pursuits. I struggle to find the time to read and the motivation to research the context and complexity behind modern issues. But ultimately, the world is not so bad nor ignorant as Bradbury might have predicted. For that I am grateful.

For the Good of Mankind

2011-12-10T05:25:00.000-05:00

For the Good of Mankind: A History of the People of Bikini and their Islands by Jack Niedenthal, 2001. Majuro, Marshall Islands: Bravo Publishers, $16.95, 226 pp.

Anthropologists throughout the world spend significant time and ink chronicling lost cultures and dying languages. Frequently, such social scientists attempt to approach a culture objectively (as they might define such a word), draw broader conclusions from their case study, and leverage their newfound knowledge for academic promotions or designations as a "world expert in the culture of...." Niedenthal is not this type of anthropologist. In fact, he is not an anthropologist at all but rather a dedicated adopted member of the Marshallese community who has compiled here an impressive number of first-hand accounts from the of the Bikinians in the sixty years since the United States tested its first atomic weapon on Bikini atoll. Peppered throughout the accounts are the author's own observations from the past three decades he has dedicated to the Bikinians. Although the book could have used a professional editor and the flow of the narrative is jarring at times, the underlying material is so impressive as to overwhelm any stylistic flaws.

The Bikinians left their island in 1946, accepting the statement of Commodore Ben Wyatt at the time that the move would be temporary and that doing so would be "for the good of mankind and to end all world wars." For the next three years, the 167 islanders would be relocated on Rongerik, then Kwajalein, then Kili Island. Each temporary home was unable to sustain the growing community. While Kili became something of a permanent home, it lacked a lagoon and could not naturally supply the people with food or shelter from the ocean. For twelve years Bikini and Enewetak atolls would be the location for over 60 nuclear tests. After 25 years, some were allowed to return to Bikini atoll only to have medical researchers report six years later, in 1978, that some exhibited high levels of radiation. The island was again evacuated. Today, there are no permanent residents on Bikini, but over 4,000 Marshallese trace their heritage to the island and are dispersed throughout the Marshall Islands and the United States.

Their six decades as an internally displaced population has not been entirely negative for the Bikinians however. Trust funds established by the United States government and medical treatment programs ensure that Bikinians have some of the highest living standards and longest life expectancies of all Marshallese. King Juda, the Iroij (high chieftain) of the Bikinians said "Everything is in the hands of God," And in the stories that Niedenthal has compiled here, we catch a glimpse of that quiet fortitude that enables the Bikinians to live and thrive even in difficult circumstances.

Even though it has been over 50 years since the United States tested nuclear weapons in the Marshall Islands, feelings are still raw and misunderstandings abound. I applaud the author for going beyond the nuclear angle of the Bikinian's plight and writing about the individualities, histories, and personal observations of the community. Niedenthal states in the introduction that he got the idea of recording the stories of some of the Bikini elders after discovering that some of their own offspring were unaware of the community's recent history. But he goes beyond a mere oral history compilation. Marshallese are excellent storytellers, but they won't just tell them to anyone. Jack has earned their trust through years of dedicated service, and the level of detail and emotion in each story is evidence of that fact.

The book lacks a strong overall narrative, and typesetting and design is relatively crude. But given that this book was written ten years ago and produced in the Marshall Islands, I am impressed that it was published at all. Books like these that tell the important story of marginalized and small communities will never make much money. But the stories are important nonetheless and are an important reminder of the hidden costs to the Cold War, nuclear weapons, and global realpolitik.

Untying the Knot

2011-12-07T03:36:00.001-05:00

Untying the Knot: Making Peace in the Taiwan Strait by Richard C. Bush. Washington: BrookingsInstitution Press, 2005. $24.95, 416 pp.

With much of my academic studies focused on the Europeancontinent and its history of conflict and integration, I have not spent muchtime examining the central issues facing East Asia and the Pacific area. Livingin the middle of the Pacific has helped hone my interest however, and I havebeen particularly focused as of late on the Taiwan Strait conflict. The subjectis particularly applicable in the Marshall Islands, which recognizes Taiwan asthe Republic of China. For a deeper look at this issue then, I turned toRichard Bush, who has been heavily involved in Taiwan-China issues for over twodecades and who has the academic and policy background to properlycontextualize the conflict.

The Taiwan Strait conflict strikes at the very heart ofWestphalian sovereignty and security. Who represents China? Who has the rightto declare independence and under what circumstances? When can a countryrespond militarily to a perceived threat? When Chiang Kai-shek and the Republicof China government fled mainland China in 1949, it was as if two parallelhistorical narratives were created. The communists and Mao Zedong had defacto rule of all of mainland China andacted accordingly. The Nationalists and their successors on Taiwan continued toclaim de jure sovereignty overall of China. These competing claims continued apace but essentially reversedthemselves: today, the Republic of China has de facto rule of the island of Taiwan while the People’sRepublic of China claims de juresovereignty. Who is right?

As the title suggests, the issues surrounding this conflictare complicated and yield no easy answers. Both political rhetoric and militaryresources plays an extremely important role. The People’s Republic of China(PRC) sees the question of international recognition at the core of itsdomestic legitimacy and will aggressively fight against any international rolefor Taiwan. Some of the most volatile flash points in the conflict have arisenfrom comments made by Taiwan leaders suggesting they have or will seek fullindependence. On the other side, the military buildup by China and thecontinuing sale of arms by the United States to Taiwan puts real firepowerbehind the rhetoric. For now, both sides have agreed to a tenuous truce, butthe lack of trust, communication, and progress is frightening. The possibilityof war is real.

Richard Bush writes well and is comprehensive in hisexamination. Drawing from his own experience serving as the Chairman of theAmerican Institute in Taiwan from 1997 to 2002 and through a close examinationof the major strands of the Gordian knot, he effectively conveys theseriousness of this situation for all parties concerned, especially the U.S.The Taiwan Strait conflict is not currently a major theme in current events,and for that we should be grateful. But if and when the situation escalates, Isincerely hope that cooler heads, such as Richard Bush, will prevail and beable to guide policymakers through the intricacies of cross-strait relations.

There are only three faults with the book, none of which canbe directly attributed to the author. First, the book was finished in 2005,just as Chen Shui-bian won a second term as President of Taiwan. While Bushdoes a good job examining how his reelection will impact relations, I feel thatif he had waited perhaps one more year he would have been able to provide alittle more contemporary context for the new detente between the PRC andTaiwan. Of course, I cannot imagine any author sitting on a book for one year,and really the responsibility rests with the reader to take the book’s broadnarrative and examine current events in that light. Second, the view of the conflictis in sharper focus from Taiwan’s perspective than from mainland China’sperspective. Bush himself acknowledges that he places much of the blame forcurrent tensions at the feet of the PRC and is not surreptitious in his bias,understandable given his professional background. The existing governancestructure of mainland China makes it further difficult to gather the fulldetails about what is going on in the minds of communist leaders. Given thesehandicaps, Bush does a decent job exploring the conflict from the perspectiveof communist China.

Finally, the author fails to provide one quick punchysolution for resolving the conflict. In an age of talking heads and quickopinions, the lack of a comprehensive policy prescription is notable. Heexplores ideas such as iterative reciprocal agreements to escape the existingprisoner’s dilemma and institutional development, but ultimately throws up hishands and says, essentially, “Someone has to go first.” For now, we remain in astable status quo. But when change comes, I sincerely hope the leaders involvedcan take the same measured and comprehensive approach this book does.

Presidents and Prophets

2011-11-20T04:23:00.000-05:00

Presidents and Prophets: The Story of America's Presidents and the LDS Church by Michael K. Winder. Salt Lake City: Covenant Communications, 2007. 428 pp., $28.00.

With two Mormons vying for the Republican nomination, it seemed fitting to me to sit down and investigate historical relations between the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and the Presidents of the United States. I was aware of the main arcs in relations--from Martin Van Buren's response to Joseph Smith,"Your cause is just but I can do nothing for you," to Ronald Reagan calling the Mormon Tabernacle Choir "America's Choir"--but in this illustrative book, Michael Winder has compiled a more comprehensive and often surprising outline of relations between the spiritual and secular worlds. The encyclopedic scope of the book is impressive and the author's significant research on the subject is apparent, although the book lacks the polish of a comprehensive biography or history. In honestly examining the undulating and frequently rocky relationship between the LDS church and the government of the United States, Winder has created a helpful starting point for further studies into the early secular history of the church and a better perspective on current political dynamics within the LDS community.

Winder starts from the very first U.S. President, despite the church only coming into existence in 1830. For the early presidents, the exercise is more theoretical--what would the early founding fathers have thought of the church? While the author is able to provide some helpful insights into their religious views, this section is weak and a more proper history of such issues should probably be left to the likes of David McCullough and company.

From Andrew Jackson to Benjamin Harrison, the relationship between the Latter-day Saints and the U.S. presidency was fraught with marginalization and near unanimous antipathy. As early Saints moved west under persecution, presidents were unwilling to act in their official capacity to lend a helping hand. It should be noted, however, that there was little they could do as the presidents had little power prior to the Civil War. But the strong presidency that emerged after Abraham Lincoln were very inopportune for the Utah-based church as it struggled to gain statehood while remaining essentially a theocracy adhering closely to polygamy. I was particularly surprised by the level of rhetoric that polygamy elicited from presidents during this era. James Garfield even cited the "Mormon Church" in his inaugural address and spoke at length regarding the need to stamp out polygamy.

With the presidency of William McKinley, relations began to take a more nuanced and positive tone. Presidents had differing relations with the church and its leaders, much of it dependent on Senator Reed Smoot and his role in Washington. I was struck by how bipartisan and pragmatic the church was during this era. Although the Church was certainly not shy about recommending one candidate over another, the church as a whole evaluated candidates more on positions rather than party. And significant political divisions were often publicly aired, with apostles and prophets giving conflicting support for one candidate or another. It was perhaps this experience that led the church to adopt its current official stance on non-alignment.

And for the first half of the 20th century, the LDS church truly adopted this pragmatic principle, establishing relations with whatever political party happened to be in power. I was particularly interested in the close relationship between President Lyndon Johnson and David McKay and between Reed Smoot and Calvin Coolidge (who even went so far as to provide President Coolidge with a priesthood blessing). These touching relations with presidents from two very different political philosophies underscore that the underlying doctrines of the Church of Jesus Christ are compatible with various political philosophies.

And then there is the modern area, beginning during the Jimmy Carter presidency. Somehow, the political party has come to dominate church/presidency relations, with Democratic presidencies having limited engagement and hiring few LDS officials and Republicans speaking high praise for the church. After having read of so much diversity in the 150 years prior, I remain intrigued by the political homogeneity within the church in the past 30 years. Perhaps social issues such as abortion dominate the political psyche of church members to such an extent that all other policy issues fade in significance. Or perhaps this is only one phase in a much longer history. I sincerely hope the latter is the case.

I applaud Michael Winder for compiling this concise and fascinating history. The design, typesetting, and layout leave much to be desired and at times the book reads too much like a mere encyclopedia listing every interaction between LDS individuals and U.S. Presidents. Despite these faults, the underlying subject matter is interesting and captivating. I hope to study these subjects in more detail in the near future. And I also look forward to pulling out some of the author's random tidbits of presidential trivia at the next (non-alcoholic) Mormon cocktail party I attend.

1491

2011-09-20T05:58:00.000-04:00

1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus, by Charles C. Mann. New York: Vintage, 2006. 560 pp., $35.00.

Speaking of ambitious goals (see the previous book review), how about an attempt to rewrite our understanding of all pre-Columbian civilization in the Western hemisphere in less than 600 pages?

I turned my attention to this book after stalling out on my intense Kierkegaard tome. The book previously belonged to a colleague of mine who was moving on to his next post and was getting rid of odds and ends. The simple title caught my attention and the clean layout (as opposed to Kierkegaard's tiny and endless font) was also quite appealing. Mann writes well and the subject matter is compelling and extremely interesting. But despite the author's journalistic background, I can't help but feel as though he buried his lead. Reorganization, a stronger examination of biological evidence, and a more consistent thesis would have quickly vaulted this book to the top of my recommend pile. As it is, I still consider this one of most interesting books of the year for me.

Because Mann fails to really lay out the thesis of this book, let me pull instead from the back cover:

Contrary to what so many Americans learn in school, the pre-Columbian Indians were not sparsely settled in a pristine wilderness; rather, there were huge numbers of Indians who actively molded and influenced the land around them.

The idea is compelling and certainly controversial. The foundation of Mann's argument is that early missionaries and explorers who chronicled much of the first interactions with the original Americans were witnessing only the vestiges of societies decimated by disease from the very same explorers. What we often stereotypically view concerning Indians (Mann insists on the term Indian for the logical reason that "Native Americans" encounters many of the similar homogenizing hurdles and is really no better) is small bands in perfect harmony with nature--by which we mean, they utilized natural resources without manipulating the earth to their advantage. But Mann, and the researchers he uses to justify the argument, argue instead that Indians in 1491 were massive and ancient civilizations with unique technology designed to maximize the return on Mother Nature.

Mann's major fault is he saves the best for last. The first section chronicles how devastating and fast spreading European diseases were to American cultures; while moderately interesting, I feel this is ground Jared Diamond has already addressed adequately. The second section regarding the length of time American civilizations have been around is also relatively non-controversial and better covered by other works, some of them extensively cited by Mann. The third section--regarding biological evidence suggesting terraforming and intensive human manipulation of the natural environment--was the most insightful, novel, and intuitive for me.

There is of course a danger in falling in love with an idea that lacks the necessary evidence. But I think Mann is really on to something. Why were there millions upon millions of passenger pigeons and buffalos roaming the land when Europeans arrive? Surely such a glut of life would be checked by the inexorable demands of evolutionary biology. According to Mann's thesis, the terrible demise of Indians who succumbed to disease removed the keystone species of stable ecosystems throughout the Americas. The author (finally) emphasizes this important point on page 353:

American landscapes after 1492 were emptied--"widowed," in the historian Francis Jenning's term. Suddenly deregulated, ecosystems shook and sloshed like a cup of tea in an earthquake. Not only did invading endive and rats beset them, but native species, too, burst and blasted, freed from constraints by the disappearance of Native Americans. The forest that the first New England colonists thought was primeval and enduring was actually in the midst of violent change and demographic collapse. So catastrophic and irrevocable were the changes that it is tempting to think that almost nothing survived from the past. This is wrong: landscape and people remain, though greatly altered.

The unique perspective of Mann's book is his ability to link the Native Americans to their ecosystem better than any environmentalist or Thoreau. The jury is still out on his thesis--indeed, a major component of his argument is that much of the evidence was wiped out before any evidence could be collected--but I find his argument compelling on this point. It provides a valuable dose of humility for the anthropological and archaeological communities and reminds us how little we know about our own history.

I'm still frustrated by the organization of the book. The introduction does not map the book out adequately, the first section is repetitive, and the second section gets mired in academic squabbles. Unlike most books, the final section is the strongest. The codas and appendices at the end are fundamentally unnecessary and read like sections of the book the editor insisted be removed but Mann couldn't bear to part with. Thankfully, these are errors that are ultimately overcome by good writing, an interesting subject, and an ending that leaves a good taste in the reader's mouth.

The Infinite Atonement

2011-09-04T01:13:00.003-04:00

The Infinite Atonement by Tad R. Callister. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 2000. 356 pp., $24.95.

This has been on my to-read list for quite some time. The author was my wife's mission president in Toronto, Canada from 2005-2007, and his legal background and extensive knowledge of early Christianity and the scriptures has strongly influenced her (and my) doctrinal perspective. And I am always interested in new works that try to tackle one of the most challenging and important doctrines of Mormonism. I was rather disappointed, however, in this book. Effusive adjectives and extensive quotations from classic works of literature do not suffice in a doctrinal discussion. While the tenor of the work invites the reader to ponder personally on the Atonement, it does not in or of itself provide new insights. As a summary manual to guide one's own study and contemplation, the book does well; perhaps then, I simply expected too much in my hope that the book would orient Jesus Christ in Mormon theology and anchor the Atonement in everyday mortal life.

The author admittedly established a very high standard for himself the moment he decided on the title, The Infinite Atonement. How does one capture anything infinite in 356 pages, let alone the central doctrinal event for over one billion people living on the earth? Unfortunately, this book is unable to live up to this standard. The heavy focus on adjectives, rhetorical questions, and quotes from Milton and Shakespeare are distracting. While the chapters are well-organized, the overall message is ironically difficult to discern. And I expected a more comprehensive examination of the scriptures for insights into the life and death of Jesus Christ. Instead, Elder Callister quickly inserts multiple scriptural quotations at a time to bolster a central theme in a chapter.

In writing this review, I am not suggesting that the book is doctrinally unsound nor that Callister is a poor writer. Neither are the case. The doctrine is solid, just tepid. The Atonement is an incredibly broad and challenging doctrine that one could argue all scripture should be cited in its support. And the book remains an enjoyable read, is well-edited, and could prove a helpful and unique topical division of the Atonement of Jesus Christ for future Sunday School lessons.

I guess what I am trying to say is: I was hoping for a Talmage-tier work and was thus disappointed. Talmage's Jesus the Christ remains the seminal work on the Atonement. Granted, he wrote nearly 750 pages of very small print and cites nearly every source available to him. But in my mind, that is exactly what is required of any book that purports to provide an overview of Mormon theology (or its central tenants).

Perhaps though, my perspective on these works are merely a reflection of my own spiritual capacity. In writing this book almost as a study manual, Callister compels readers to do much of the work on their own. If it is the Spirit that truly instructs, as Paul says in 1 Corinthians, than any dearth of insights is more the fault of the reader than the author. So perhaps I should revisit this book for new insights once I have undertaken my own comprehensive study of the fall and redemption of mankind. You can never study too much a topic that is infinite in scope, as Elder Callister rightfully points out.

Ender's Game, Speaker for the Dead, and Xenocide

2011-08-28T05:06:00.000-04:00

Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. New York: Tor Books, 1991. 226 pp., $6.99.

Speaker for the Dead by Orson Scott Card. New York: Tor Books, 1991. 382 pp., $7.99

Xenocide by Orson Scott Card. New York: Tor Books, 1991. 592 pp., $7.99.

My job can be quite stressful. I work at least ten hours a day trying to cover four separate portfolios with little or no supervision or mentoring. While I have sometimes dealt with stress through intermittent bouts of marathon movie-watching or a Hulu binge during college, out here in the Marshall Islands, my media options are more limited.

So instead I reread the first three of Orson Scott Card's Ender's Series in a weekend in mid-July. The experience was quite cathartic and mildly entertaining. While I do not consider myself a big science fiction reader, I have enjoyed reading Card's work over the years. I first read Ender's Game in 1991 when it was published in book form. I have since revisited the books in the series a couple of times and have always enjoyed Card's introspective philosophy, very engaging dialogue, and thought-provoking ethical dilemmas. This time, I also appreciated the ever-increasing volume of each book in the series. Twelve hundred pages of science fiction was sufficiently motivating to reenter the real world.

The series follows the galactic adventures of a Messiah-like figure named Andrew Wiggin, aka Ender. In his youth, Ender is selected to attend an elite military training academy to help lead the human race against an invading alien species. In fact, Ender was conceived for that very purpose: his older two siblings proved either too aggressive or too compassionate for the position. Though only a child, Ender undergoes brutal training in modern warfare and is able to effectively lead a group of children towards ultimate victory.

In the subsequent book, three thousand years have passed and we find Ender wandering among multiple inhabited worlds, with light-year travel enabling his longevity. Given his remarkable perspective on the demise of an alien race and his compassion born of experiences far beyond his years, Ender has become something of a religious figure in human affairs. After all his wanderings, Ender chooses to settle in Lusitania, a recently-established colonial planet where a new form of alien life has been discovered. Once again, Ender is called upon to redeem the human race, though this time his effort is oriented towards saving rather than destroying the alien culture.

With two award-winning novels under his belt, Card then begins to push the limits of rationality and coherence in the third book. In Xenocide, Ender is still on Lusitania, fighting to prevent the Starways Congress from destroying the planet because of its fear of alien life forms. In the process, Ender and his gang discover that there are now four alien life forms in the universe, all of whom have their own motivations and conflicting world views. It takes all the efforts and wisdom of three thousand year-old Ender to keep the universe from civil war. But then...

There is a fourth novel, but I don't own it (and therefore didn't read it). And I think the only time I read it was in junior high, so I actually do not remember how the stories end. But the stories only tangentially matter insofar as they are the venue for Card to explore his philosophical ruminations on ethics, history, and philosophy. Ender's two siblings serve as an anthropomorphized Aristotelian dialogue while Ender is more akin to a Platonian Ideal Form. I enjoy the intellectual exercise of following Card's line of reasoning regarding human identity, the role of childhood, fear of "the other," and intelligence. And I enjoy Card's quick and witty character dialogue even more.

In short, the Ender's series is everything that scifi has to offer: grandiose philosophical discussions, dialogue full of descriptive adjectives and witty retorts, a unique view of mankind's future, and a complete fantasy world to which one can escape. More, Card cannot offer, limited as he is by the genre and the lack of reality to which one could anchor more substantive works.

The 9/11 Commission Report

2011-06-26T04:48:00.000-04:00

The 9/11 Commission Report: Final Report of the National Commission on Terrorist Attacks Upon the United States (Authorized Edition). New York: W.W. Norton And Company, Inc., 2004. 567 pp., $10.00. [Full PDF also available here.]

In the first day of consular training, every officer is handed a copy of this book and told to become familiar with the recommendations from the Commission and apply the insights gained. One day at lunch, I sat out in the courtyard and casually opened to the first chapter. I barely made it back in time before the next training session started. From the first chapter, this report provides a very compelling and riveting narrative of the events of September 11, 2001. Placing the terrorist attacks firmly within a broad historical narrative while also providing a detailed breakdown of the sequence of events, this book should be a must-read for any politician or even lay person wishing to make casual reference to "9/11" to support their argument.

After opening the book by detailing the minute-by-minute narrative of the events of September 11, the Commission investigates the inauspicious beginnings of al Qaeda and the U.S. response thereto. The Commission also exhaustively reviews counterterrorism strategies, border security, and emergency response practices existing by 2001. While no one person or organization is "responsible," the overarching sense is that no one connected the dots. Or as the Commission puts it, "a failure of imagination" led to 9/11. Clues emerged in the years prior, concerns about al Qaeda were everywhere, but without an integrated and aggressive effort by national intelligence organizations, dismantling a small transnational terrorist organization operating on a modest budget and with little technical training is remarkably difficult.

The U.S. counterterrorism strategy is reactive. This was true before 9/11 and it remains true today. Organizations are always focused on the last great threat or the last great war. As such, we fail to appreciate new threats or attempt to think outside the box. A major aspect of this failure is the public. Repeatedly, leaders chose not to attack threats in Afghanistan and elsewhere for fear of public reprisals. The reality is that while a catastrophic failure in national defense will immediately impact the public perception, thwarting attacks are rarely heralded. Nor do they win elections.

Combined with my work perspective, this book is illuminating. The past decade has been dramatically shaped by the events of 9/11. And honestly, I truly believe we have changed policies such that another 9/11 will not happen. Our border security is integrated and, while not perfect, very rigorous. (Concerns remain about our land borders however.) Air traffic security and management is significantly improved. And most importantly, the country is aware of the threat. Perhaps too aware.

How prepared are we for new and different types of threats? Al Qaeda may very well be waning; its founder is dead, leadership has been decimated and there is very little room for safe havens these days. But what about the threat of a nuclear Pakistan? What about a nuclear Saudi Arabia? What about the public perception battle currently underway in the Islamic world? I will not try to name the myriad threats or concerns our country may face. My point--and I believe the major theme of this report--is that a broader and more comprehensive national debate is needed. Somehow, as a country we need to see the forest through the trees, we need to be more proactive in shaping our future, we need to live with faith in the institutions of our country rather than in fear of yesterday's enemy.

Surviving Paradise

2011-05-25T05:34:00.000-04:00

Surviving Paradise: One Year on a Disappearing Island by Peter Rudiak-Gould. New York: Union Square Press, 2009. 244 pp., $24.95.

They say we laugh because it is true. Never has that been more accurate for me than while reading this book. Recommended by my boss, two coworkers, and a local friend, this book rings true from every page, and it funny precisely because I am here. In many ways, I found this novel like a good inside joke; as such, I wonder about those who read this book but have never been to the Marshall Islands. Well, take my word for it: Rudiak-Gould's observations about the Marshall Islands are spot on, if somewhat tongue-in-cheek at times.

Sent to Ujae Atoll as part of the WorldTeach program, the author recounts his experience living and teaching English on one of the most remote islands in the world among one of the more primitive people in the world. Except that the Marshallese are not primitive and the islands are not remote, at least not in the romantic way we have come to expect from travelogues. As he writes about the people (p. 223–224):

Some of the islanders could recite the medicinal properties of native plants and the hit singles of the Backstreet Boys with equal ease. They worshipped Jesus but believed in demons and love spells; they preached a Christian work ethic but lied on island time. They divided their allegiance between chief and senator, cracked open giant crabs with old batteries, and fished with spears made of fiberglass.

Through periods of colonization and close contact with the Germans, Japanese, and Americans, the people of the Marshall Islands have adopted and adapted, while keeping the core of their cultural identity intact. The paradox of the Marshall Islands is that this is a place where people survive in a time-honored, stoic and communal fashion to the consternation of outsiders who hope for something beyond mere survival. The cultural disconnect to the western world is extreme even if the outer trappings of culture appear similar. They have similar goods, access to similar opportunities, yet do such different things with them than we would expect.

I doubt I am describing this novel well; I am almost certain I am not describing the Marshall Islands well. Again, like an inside joke, you have to be there. And we are! I could identify with the author's consternation, confusion, and bewilderment on almost every page. My wife and I both read the book and laughed and laughed at the author (and our) cultural ignorance and the sheer effort required to bridge the gap. We are still most certainly in the cultural shock phase of our residence in the islands, and our experience will necessarily be markedly different from the author's in that we live in Majuro. Yet the culture is consistent throughout the islands, and I suspect we will leave here as flustered by our feeble attempts to help the people yet happy with our greater ability to understand and identify with the people as the author.

The writing, especially in the beginning, is crisp, clean, evocative, well-balanced, and delightful. Towards the end, the up and coming anthropologist shines through a little too much, and the brief addendum regarding climate change and the islands almost appears to be meant as a teaser trailer for the author's subsequent book and research. But all in all, I could not have asked for a better introduction to the Marshall Islands or a more appropriate call to action for engaging with the culture during our time here.

The Picture of Dorian Gray

2011-05-19T04:45:00.000-04:00

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. New York: Barnes & Noble Classics, 1891 [2003]. 248 pp., $4.95.

Originally intended as a light reading for the flights, I only discovered this book in my luggage as we were unpacking here in Majuro. A favorite of mine in high school, this book was bought during our final date in the U.S. (Jamie and I often find ourselves in bookstores on dates.) Rereading this novel during our first few days on the island was a refreshing way to spend some evenings on our deck and appreciate rich, written English at a time when we are hearing less and less of the King's language.

The author describes the descent of a handsome young man from a state of innocence, captured in painting by the enigmatic Basil Hallward, into a depraved hedonist, egged on by the epigramic Lord Henry Wotton. Because of an earnest prayer as the painting was completed, only the painting ages. In his pursuit of pleasure, Dorian avoids all the physical consequences of his actions, enabling him (and the author) to explore the limits of unrestrained sensuality. Under heavy influence from Lord Wotton, the protagonist (if indeed he can be called that) examines the full extent of human emotions with anthropologic curiosity. Gray hurts a lot of people in the process, but that is no matter since he is untouched.

Gray does not truly suffer the consequences of his actions. Indeed, he avoids so doing with remarkable finesse and even sheer luck. I almost feel as though the author wanted to leave the story at that. But no, ultimately Dorian must face himself. Regardless of how the world saw things, he could see things as they truly are. Impunity rarely lasts long, even for Wilde.

Our soul--where does it reside? Is our body a mere outward manifestation of our actions? Can we separate who we are from who we seem to be? And what is the purpose and role of pleasure in life? Such existential questions are to be found on nearly every page of this novel, drawing out an otherwise simple fable into a broader discussion of hedonism and aesthetics. With rich, descriptive language, Wilde writes as though he has a personal interest in the conclusions of the novel. He may have attempted more than is possible in a dime novel. But fun was had by all nonetheless.

Pardon the pun, but the reader cannot read too much into the moral of the story. Rather the novel should be seen as a very intimate view inside the author's own troubled mind. The book is all about uncertainty in mortality. Such uncertainty is amplified when one is unmoored from morals, subject to other's opinions and perspectives, unable to divine the true motivations behind friends, and unable to grasp every physical experience before death inevitably comes.

Into Thin Air

2011-05-15T04:38:00.000-04:00

Into Thin Air: A Personal Account of the Mr. Everest Disaster by Jon Krakauer. New York: Anchor Books, 1997. 333 pp., $15.00.

Into Thin Air was the perfect book for a 17-hour flight to the Marshall Islands with an eleven-month old: fascinating, engrossing, but not too complex or with much moralizing. I was able to read a chapter here and there while also working to keep my son relatively happy in a small space. Without diminishing the tragedy at the heart of the novel, I think I can safely say this book was an enjoyable way to pass the time.

Krakauer has the unique perspective of being both a journalist and participant in the saga. But he and his employer, Outdoor magazine, certainly got more than they bargained for as he was originally sent to climb Everest to chronicle the growing commercialization of the world's largest mountain. The author does his due diligence on this theme, providing the history of the mountain and the terrible costs it has demanded of those who wish to climb its heights. In the 1990s however, Everest began to appear less frightful, at least from the outside perspective. With enough money, any amateur could hire the necessary crew and equipment to make it to the top. Or so the theory went.

Everest is more than just another mountain; it is a different world. The novel does an excellent job detailing the equipment, logistics, planning, preparation, acclimatization, and acculturation necessary to get to the highest point on the earth. Simply put, it was never intended for man to be that high. Those who wish to summit Everest must be willing to sacrifice brain cells, memory, basic mental cognition, and every and any convenience known to man. Many have also sacrificed much more.

The bulk of Krakauer's novel details the history surrounding Everest as well as the climb up to the Third Camp. But, just as suddenly as the storm at the heart of the tragedy, Krakauer throws the reader directly into the unfolding crisis as a number of climbers were late coming down from the summit. Climbers hampered by the lack of oxygen and clear thinking made multiple mistakes. At those altitudes, there is simply no margin for error. All the money in the world couldn't help those climbers.

I was touched by the personal aspect of the novel. The author made it alive while others died. As he reviews his choices in getting down the mountain, the author reveals his own internal debate. Could he have saved a fellow climber? Was there something more he could have done? Most poignantly, was the presence of a journalist on the climb a compounding factor in the poor decisions of the others? He does not dwell too long on these unpleasant thoughts, but they are there all the same.

Who is to blame for the crisis? The novel casts a few glances towards particularly questionable practices: a guide who submitted without oxygen, others refusing to turn around at the agreed time regardless of whether or not they reached the top, too many groups seeking to summit at the same time, inexperience, and sheer selfishness. But I think at the end of the day, Krakauer would blame the mountain. It is Everest after all. Those who wish to climb it must recognize the inherent danger and uncertainty.

Children of the Atomic Bomb

2011-05-09T05:40:00.000-04:00

Children of the Atomic Bomb: An American Physician's Memoir of Nagasaki, Hiroshima, and the Marshall Islands by James N. Yamazaki, with Louis B. Fleming. Durham, North Carolina: Duke University Press, 1995. 182 pp., $22.13.

My final book from the archives of the State Department Library, this memoir was a fitting conclusion to my (brief) investigation into the US atomic tests from 1945 to 1963 in the Marshall Islands and elsewhere. A meandering yet searing memoir, this novel highlights the lingering effects of the atomic bomb in the lives of the children and "survivors" of the bomb. Yamazaki has a story to tell, and he does it with incredible humility, patience, and forgiveness.

As a doctor, the author encountered lasting birth defects and terrible tragedies resulting from man's ignorance when confronted with the incredible power of the bomb. Without getting bogged down in medical jargon (we can perhaps thank Louis Fleming for that), Yamazaki guides us through the process of laboratory testing in Hiroshima, Nagasaki, the Marshall Islands, and California that led to our modern understanding of nuclear radiation. Considering that the scientific community had not yet uncovered the structure of DNA, it is no wonder that we grossly underestimated the impact of radiation particles on the unborn and vulnerable populations.

As an American, he and his family endured terrible persecution because of his Japanese heritage, despite serving valiantly for his country. While his father lived in a concentration camp in California, he was fighting in the Battle of the Bulge and eventually taken as a prisoner of war. The juxtaposition between Hitler's camps and America's camps are startling and uncomfortable. The prejudices he and his family encountered, even after returning to the US as a decorated war veteran and completing a rigorous medical training, are even more disconcerting.

As a historian, Yamazaki and Fleming have an unparalleled perspective on one of the most trying times in modern America. There is little of bitterness in this book, nor is there excessive moralizing or finger wagging. Rather they tell the story of terrible tragedies with compassion, forgiveness, and caution. The book is a warning for a myopic era, but without a policy prescription per se.

My final feeling from reading this book is one of moral ambiguity. World War II is often seen as the most "just" of America's modern wars. That is, good and evil are clearly delineated, and we come off clearly on the side of good. But war is never good. Especially modern warfare. Nuclear weapons, racism, stereotypes, and distrust are all tools of war that have a persistent impact on society. Whenever we paint society with broad strokes, we risk encouraging individual snobbery. Good and bad can only truly be evaluated at an individual level, and even that judgment should best be left to God. I hope I can thus be like Yamazaki and be good by serving my fellow man.

The First Taint of Civilization

2011-04-10T12:54:00.000-04:00

The First Taint of Civilization: A History of the Caroline and Marshall Islands in Pre-Colonial Days, 1521–1885 by Francs X. Hezel, SJ. Pacific Islands Monograph Series, No. 1. Honolulu: University of Hawai'i Press, 1983. 371 pp., $29.00.

Continuing in my North Pacific concentration, I decided to take a step back from recent events and delve a little deeper into the history of the region. Very little has been written on the subject; thankfully, the State Department Library has a remarkably comprehensive collection, including a number of original monographs and field manuals used and created as early as 1942 for the incoming American soldiers who were to become the new colonists in the islands. I skimmed a number of those early books and gained some valuable insights into the culture of the region, though most authors adopted a condescending attitude towards the islanders. In the end, I settled on this well-documented account of what is essentially the entire known early history for Micronesia.

The author's account details the earliest encounters between the western world and the small islands of Micronesia, beginning with the sightings by the first Spanish ships through the colonial annexation by Germany and Spain of the entire region. The 360 years in between these events are filled with accounts of resistance, annihilation, and adaptation by the native islanders. While the boatloads of explorers, businessmen, whalemen, missionaries, and buccaneers invariably brought both the good and bad kinds of "civilization" with them, the peoples of Micronesia never fully succumbed. Part of the reason lies with Europeans; the region was simply too vast, dangerous, and of modest commercial value to ever necessitate a massive colonization of the region. Another part of the reason rests with the islanders themselves; surviving in such an uncertain environment requires the utmost adaptability. Hence the author's title. The Marshall Islands and other parts of Micronesia certainly became tainted with civilization. They just never became "civilized." We should be grateful for that.

It is somewhat shocking to realize how little the modern world knew and knows about Micronesia, its history, and its people. Hezel does a superb job piecing together the earliest known documents from captain's logs to early ethnographic surveys. But this collection is remarkably sparse, when compared with other regions of the world. I give the author a lot of credit for compiling almost 400 pages on the history of the region, and I understand why there are few—if any—other books on the history of the region. We simply know so little about the cultures in the region.

And what a rude awakening to the world these peoples had. Consider for a moment that the first white settlers in the Marshall Islands arrived in the 1870s. Only seventy years later, the islands would witness the fourth atomic bomb ever made, thereby ensuring that the taint of civilization will remain for a long time to come.

Operation Crossroads

2011-03-31T22:32:00.000-04:00

Operation Crossroads: The Atomic Test at Bikini Atoll by Jonathan M. Weisgall. Annapolis, Maryland: Naval Institute Press, 1994. 415 pp., $59.91.

My upcoming professional assignment is increasingly driving my reading selection and has led me to this well-chronicled and terrifying account. With excellent sources and adequate narration, Weisgall documents the atomic tests that took place in the Marshall Islands immediately following the end of World War II. Coded Operation Crossroads, the exercises were hailed as an attempt to gauge the effects of atomic weapons on naval forces and prepare the United States for the nuclear age. In reality, the tests merely served to highlight the danger of hubris in confronting the unknown.

Immediately following the end of World War II, all eyes turned towards the atomic bomb. The true victor of the war, the bomb captivated public and private discussion. A mixture of fear, awe, and confusion led many Americans to almost revere this newfound instrument and the "priests" of the atomic age stationed in Los Alamos. The public's reverence was not matched by those in the military however. With remarkable speed, the Army and Navy quickly utilized the bomb as an instrument to increase spending, prestige, and position vis-a-vis each other. The Army (which included the nascent Air Force) argued that aerial bomb delivery systems negated the value of the Navy and demonstrated the growing importance of air power in the new age. The Navy for its part downplayed the potential damage the bomb would have on ships and argued that navy power was more important than ever. From this adolescent feud sprang the joint exercise Crossroads.

The test itself was enormous in scale and ambition. Over 42,000 men participated in the exercise, though only a small percentage actually understood the true nature--and risks--of the experiments. Two bombs were dropped in quick succession in the summer of 1946, less than one year after the first bombs exploded in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Although far from populated areas, the Bikini bombs still led to serious radiation fallout and contamination. The second bomb was exploded underwater, leading to enormous contamination of the water and ecosystem throughout the lagoon. Indeed, after harried attempts to decontaminate naval ships, the experiment was aborted as radioactive contamination reached unhealthy levels. The Army and Navy retreated from Bikini atoll, returning only later in order to explode another 65 nuclear weapons.

The author's narrative is coherent and utilizes excellent firsthand sources. The pictures are compelling, and I particularly appreciated helpful details about the plight of the Bikinians forced to evacuate from the island, becoming the world's first--and hopefuly only--atomic nomads. At times Weisgall's biases shine through (he litigated three lawsuits on behalf of the Bikinians against the U.S. government) and the book lacks depth in areas such as the international context and scientific aspects of the fission process. The book ends abruptly too; I would have appreciated a larger discussion of the later tests of thermonuclear bombs in the area as well as the political consequences of the tests. Still, on the whole the book was an excellent introduction to the atomic legacy in the Marshall Islands and an important cautionary tale against acting rashly with the unknown powers of nature.

The Terrorism Reader

2011-03-22T21:07:00.000-04:00

The Terrorism Reader, Second Edition by David J. Whittaker. New York: Routledge, 2003. 310 pp., $38.95.

Given my new occupation, the subject of this book has been weighing on my mind. In reading Whittaker's book, I had hoped to better understand this complex phenomenon. I had hoped to get an academic perspective that was able to objectively parse terrorism and identify coherent public policy strategies. I had hoped to gain a broad, but meaningful, overview of terrorist networks with their motivations and structures.

My hopes were unfulfilled.

Through a combination of very poor editing, excessive generalization, inconsistent case studies, and haphazard insertions concerning Al Qaeda, the Whittaker has mangled his subject to a state of incoherence. Granted, concisely explaining--or even defining--terrorism is a very challenging task. For that reason, no author or editor should undertake such a book without a coherent thesis drawn from clear evidence with adequate examination of alternative hypotheses. This book fails on all accounts.

The editing style reminded me of the protagonist in the film "A Beautiful Mind" whose schizophrenic disorder causes him to connect incoherent stories on his office walls with yarn. In this book, clippings--some of them less than a complete sentence--are taken from secondary sources and mixed together in five subject-oriented chapters and thirteen country-specific chapters. The editor's own comments sometimes offer a sort of annotated bibliography of the secondary source and sometimes provide additional comments. But there is no flow in the narrative, there is no thesis, and there is no objective analysis. Inserts from secondary sources were intriguing at times, and I am tempted to go read the works of those authors. Indeed, I now wish I had spent my time only on those sources, though they are all quite outdated. In the end, this Reader does those authors no service in cutting up their arguments to mincemeat.

Part of the fault of this book is not due to the author but rather to world events surrounding the book's publication. The timing of the first edition was unfortunate or fortuitous, depending on the point of view. Published just months before 9/11, The Terrorism Reader was likely on the shelves at a time when interest in terrorism was at an all-time high. Ironically however, Al Qaeda was hardly mentioned in the first edition. Whittaker is of course not alone in this oversight, but the discrepancy is all the more emphasized in this second edition. A hastily compiled chapter on 9/11 and a scattering of mentions through the chapters hardly qualifies as a rigorous examination of Islamic fundamentalism. Numerous grammatical and editorial inconsistencies in the book further reveal that the second edition was a quickly produced affair seeking to capitalize off the newfound public interest.

I may have been too harsh on this book: perhaps there is a thesis after all. On page 251 the author quotes approvingly from M.R.L. Smith who writes,

The distorted focus on non-state actors has reduced a lot of terrorist studies to a series of typologies and historical catalogues which try to identify the alleged incidence of terrorism around the world. Not only does this make the subject fairly dull, above all, it decontextualises low level conflicts by trying to connect an assortment of diverse political groups merely on the basis of their modus operandi. If one thinks about it for a moment, the proposition seems intellectually quite dubious.

Then, as if to emphasize this point, the author cites Higgins on page 269: "Terrorism is a term without legal significance." In other words, the author appears to be saying the books and studies on terrorism are ultimately futile because the subject matter is so diffuse, context-driven, and pregnant with subjective meaning. Whittaker's own "intellectually dubious endeavor" in compiling The Terrorism Reader drives this point home quite well.

Mostly Harmless Econometrics

2011-03-02T21:46:00.000-05:00

Mostly Harmless Econometrics by Joshua D. Angrist and Jorn-Steffen Pischke. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2009. 373 pp., $35.00.

Finishing graduate school, starting a new job, and getting ready to move to the other side of the globe have kept me quite busy these past few months. And I have made a fatal error in starting to read multiple books all at once. Tonight however, I was able to finish Mostly Harmless Econometrics and enjoyed the satisfaction of knowing I read an econometrics textbook simply because I wanted to. Times like these reassure me that I chose the right graduate degree and right career.

Angrist and Pischke approach econometrics from the perspective that simplicity and humor can do a better job explaining difficult concepts than tedious prose and proofs. Such a perspective is nothing short of revolutionary within the economics field. I am sure some older professors are grumbling and refusing to consider this book for applied econometrics courses. Thankfully however, the authors are well-established, and I am confident they will win over the field in the long run. And having taken four econometric courses throughout my collegiate career, I am certain that Mostly Harmless will be a huge hit among students.

The authors anchor all discussion within three core principles of econometrics: OLS, Instrumental Variable, and Fixed Effects regression. The first has long been the workhorse in the field of economics. But its underlying assumptions are rarely observed in reality leading some to undermine its efficacy. Mostly Harmless does not throw the baby out with the bath water however, and demonstrates the continuing usefulness of OLS, even when compared to some of its fancier competitors. Instrumental Variables and Fixed Effects have received too little attention in applied econometrics courses, and I was happy to see early chapter in the book dedicated to the two concepts.

Both authors are clearly brilliant in the field of mathematics and statistics, but they don't get caught up too much in the fact. Again, this is nothing short of revolutionary. Proofs are clear and concise, but not exhaustive; matrix algebra is kept to a minimum. And while complicated bootstrapping and standard error correction methods are discussed, they are not the focus of the book. The title, derived from Douglas Adam's unorthodox writings, is perfect in this sense. Because the authors do not take themselves too seriously, the most relevant facts take center stage, and I feel I better understand where the field of econometrics stands today.

The book assumes a great deal about its readers. This is perhaps understandable as the target audience is graduate microeconomics students. A few more introductory chapters covering the basics of matrix algebra, more material on statistical distribution, and a larger discussion of conditional probability functions would dramatically expand the potential readership. In the end though, the authors achieve their aim: econometrics feels mostly harmless, especially for the initiated.

The Screwtape Letters

2010-12-20T13:31:00.000-05:00

The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. New York: HarperCollins, 2001 (orig. 1942). 209 pp., $10.00.

Except for the Book of Mormon, there is no book I have read more frequently than The Screwtape Letters. When I was a paperboy during my teenage years, I had this book on tape and made it a goal to memorize it while delivering my papers. I never fully succeeded in that goal, though I used to be able to quote liberally from this book and knew the central topic of every chapter. To this day, I still learn much about my moral failings and challenges as I view them through the eyes of the "Under Secretary of the Satanic Lowerarchy."

As is well-known, this short fictional novel is written using a technique of "diabolical ventriloquism," as Lewis termed it. Undersecretary Screwtape, an experienced devil in hell is writing to Wormwood, his novice devil nephew. Wormwood has been tasked with tempting a young British man during World War II and frequently seeks the advice of his uncle on how to best lead the man to sin and temptation. Wormwood's lack of experience is evident as the unnamed man becomes a Christian, starts dating an upstanding young woman and displays a good deal of bravery and courage in the midst of the war. Screwtape nonetheless provides a continual source of new options for temptations at every step of the way. In the process, Screwtape provides an excellent overview of the character of mankind, and indeed, the Christian perspective on the nature of God.

Through its style and substance, Screwtape Letters captures the true essence of the natural man, that is, human nature at its worst. We can be lazy, selfish, arrogant, myopic, and thoughtless so easily. In most respects, no devil is really necessary to induce us on this path. Indeed, Lewis depicts most of the devil's as that of prevention: keeping us from seeing things as they really are. A moment or two of reflection and meditation can quickly illuminate the ways in which we are not living up to our true eternal potential.

The devilish correspondence can be seen as the pessimistic perspective of our future; the reader's task is thus to determine how to right the identified wrongs. This novel is so powerful I think because it requires the reader to actively consider the antidote to every temptation proffered by the devils. In so doing, we are forced to evaluate our own life. What are my weaknesses? What is my trajectory in life? What can I do to improve?

Lewis said that though he "had never written anything more easily, I never wrote with less enjoyment." For me though, I have rarely read a theological book that required more thought, and I have certainly never read one as enjoyable.

Amusing Ourselves to Death

2010-12-08T20:10:00.000-05:00

Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business by Neil Postman. Audiobook from Internet Archive. Available here.

I have not read as much as I would have liked this semester because of a large workload at school. But I was grateful when my wife pointed out this audiobook, which I was able to download to my iPod and listen to while I biked to school. The irony of listening to this book in audiobook format while commuting did not escape me. I found Postman's 1985 classic to be well-written and convincing in its thesis. The book left me with a lot to think about; even more importantly, I felt a desire to change in my own life. The last book that left me so impressed was Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma. I appreciate authors who are able to elucidate poorly understood yet integral assumptions upon which modern society is based.

Postman's central thesis is that the form of media matters. The mode of information transmission necessarily constrains and informs the content. In this context, television and print promote two different means to access and understand knowledge with two very different outcomes. Print-based media is structured so as to promote a rationalist, sequential, nuanced, and abstract form of discourse. Television, in contrast, is image based and thus is suited for a different type of discourse. Images by their nature are fleeting and frequently only tangentially connected. Nuance is lost as the length of discussion is necessarily curtailed and concepts difficult to depict may lose significance or authority. Public discourse based on television is thus denuded of substantive, complex, or abstract content that is at the foundation of the most pressing public policy issues.

The author acknowledges that television excels in one category however: entertainment. Amusing anecdotes, silly scenarios, and unrealistic situations need no context or background to be entertaining. The value of image-based media lies precisely in its ability to detach the viewers from present stress and complexity inherent in everyday life. Americans have certainly embraced television as entertainment but so have public figures. The result is that politics, religion, family life, and education have all been repackaged to be "entertaining," that is, to be conducive to image-based media. Television has thus fundamentally altered our epistemological foundation: knowledge is now based on what we see, not on what we think after nuanced reflection, discussion, and reading.

Many of the ideas in this book are not new but the well-structured format, skillful writing, and pertinent references lend the argument especial credence. In some places, I found Postman to be almost prophetic concerning the evolution of media into the 21st century. Postman would surely not be surprised to hear of the remarkable rise of Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart; in the conclusion he writes:

Only through a deep and unfailing awareness of the structure and effects of information, through a demystification of media, is there any hope of our gaining some measure of control over television...the [solution] is to create television programs whose intent would be, not to get people to stop watching television but to demonstrate how television ought to be viewed, to show how television recreates and degrades our conception of news, political debate, religious thought, etc. I imagine such demonstrations would of necessity take the form of parodies.

Postman dismisses this "solution" as nonsensical and yet I think he aptly describes the inherent appeal of the Daily Show and other such programming.

I wonder however if Postman is not being a bit unfair towards new forms of media. Perhaps I am simply too saturated in modern media technologies to be fully convinced otherwise, but television and images can add in meaningful ways to public discourse by increasing awareness and reducing some forms of author biases for example. I wonder too how Postman's argument hold up in the internet age. Print media are enjoying a remarkable upswing, albeit in electronic form. And social networking is creating new sources of knowledge and discourse that transcend any publication medium. In my mind, if media constrains the message than policymakers and citizens will be keen to continue to experiment with media to find the best way to transmit their epistemological perspectives.

As Pollan taught me to be a more discriminating eater, Postman teaches me to be a more discerning media consumer. What sources do I view as authoritative and why? What is my information to action ratio? What is entertainment and what is knowledge? In today's world, being able to parse the onslaught of information and media in today's world is a crucial skill set. Postman provides an effective framework to do just that.

The Loomis Gang

2010-11-07T17:10:00.000-05:00

The Loomis Gang by George W. Walter. Utica: North Country Books Inc., 1985. 271 pp., $18.95.

While spending some time with my family in Richfield Springs, NY this summer, I came upon this book on my grandfather's bookshelf. Chronicling the history of a notorious band of horse thieves in the 19th century, the book had the perfect mix of intrigue, history, and local pertinence to be a fun read while relaxing on the hammock. I thoroughly enjoyed the book and am impressed by the author's ability to track down primary sources in order to add flesh to local legends.

The Loomis family arrived in Sangerfield, NY in 1806 and would leave an indelible impression on the region throughout the 19th century. Settling a sizable farm in what is known as the Nine-Mile swamp, the family quickly established a thriving trade in stolen horses, merchandise, and counterfeit money. The family frequently escaped the consequences of their actions thanks to their considerable resources, knowledge of the law, and many friends in high places. Indeed, until the arrival of a constable Filkins to the area, the family escaped virtually unscathed. Constable Filkins however made it his personal vendetta to bring the family to justice, using whatever means necessary. Ultimately, public opposition to the family's illegal businesses was too great and lynchings, arrests, and murder ultimately brought the family's empire down.

The book provides a remarkable insight into life in the 19th century in upstate New York. Lawlessness, mercantilism, violence, and poverty marked the time. I forget how much our country has developed in such a relatively short period of time. The economic cycle of upstate New York--from backwards rural frontierland to prosperous agricultural district to booming manufacturing region to stagnating manufacturing and moderate service provider--has taken only 175 years. The story of the Loomis gang embodies the remarkably fusion of entrepreneurial spirit and recklessness that underpins our nation's history. The Loomis' found a niche in society and exploited it to the fullest. Ultimately, the people, loosely defined, also found a means wherewith to remove the Loomis' from that niche. This was certainly a do-it-yourself kind of America. That spirit remains alive and well in the US, though I would like to believe the rule of law plays a much larger role these days.

The novel's narrative is all the more effective because I have personally lived in the area in which the Loomis' roamed. It was fun hearing about Hamilton, Sangerfield, Utica, Waterville, and elsewhere. Upstate New York has few claims to historical prominence, yet Walter has done an excellent job of detailing fascinating local history. Some of the stories are a little disjointed and the author does not hesitate to include details of uncorroborated rumors. Some chapters include too few details while others include too much; this is largely a consequence of chasing down 19th century history from small-town newspapers, neighbors, and official records. The overall narrative is engaging and the book proceeds at a healthy pace. Upstate New Yorkers should try to track down this relatively rare book and see if they envision their community as it once was two centuries ago.

Citizens of London

2010-09-25T15:38:00.000-04:00

Citizens of London: The Americans who Stood with Britain in its Darkest, Finest Hour by Lynne Olson. New York: Random House, 2010. 496 pp., $28.00.

Most war novels naturally focus on the war. The generals, soldiers, and political leaders running the show play the prominent role as the chronicler emphasizes his version of history. The genius of this book is in its twist on well known subject matter. Instead of examining World War II more broadly, Lynne Olson concentrates on London's experience in the war, including the Blitz and the aftermath. Moving beyond FDR, Churchill, and Stalin, the author examines three men behind the well-known figures. In so doing, this novel provides a fresh perspective on a most trying time in world history and highlights the importance of good leaders who do not always grab the headlines.

America remained ambivalent about another war in Europe in 1939. Isolationist forces had carried the day, and while many decried the rapid spread of fascism and totalitarianism in Europe, few were willing to actually invest resources to help their allies. When England became the last remaining country resisting Hitler's army, the US still remained unwilling to enter the fray. Three men in particular worked very hard to change this. John Gilbert Winant, the ambassador to the United Kingdom, was adept at earning the respect of the Brits while also communicating to the US what was happening. Edward Murrow carried even more clout, speaking of the atrocities he witnessed behind his CBS microphone. And Averell Harriman used his considerable political and financial clout to gain a position in Europe to further increase cooperation across the Atlantic.

None of the three men were entirely successful in their campaign to rally US support behind the war effort, at least not until Pearl Harbor. Yet, their dedication to helping their compatriots in Europe was an important step in preparing America for the intense conflict in which they were about to engage. Winant and Harriman both provided valuable conduits between British and American governments, contributing to the strongest alliance in modern history. And Murrow helped everyday Americans understand the moral imperative in the war, providing further motivation for the Anglo-American alliance.

Olson tends to dwell too long on the salacious and quirky aspects of the principal characters, detracting from the broader narrative. And her personal biases towards the characters also shine through a little too brightly. Because of her past experience in writing about Murrow, he receives a disproportionate amount of attention. So too does Winant, who Olson clearly admires (and with good reason). As with other novels about this period, too little attention is given to their lives after the war as well.

Overall though, the book is an enjoyable and informative read. The narrative flows well, even as the author jumps from person to person and from place to place. The concept of Americans standing with their European peers in a time of great need is a refreshing reminder of the purpose and value of alliances at a time when American isolationism is again creeping into the political consciousness.

The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ

2010-09-23T16:55:00.000-04:00

The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ, by Philip Pullman. New York: Canongate US, 2010. 256 pp., $24.00.

Having just read The Shack, I found myself intrigued by this new novel by the famed atheist author of The Golden Compass among other books. Pullman is known in some circles as the CS Lewis for atheists so I had rather high expectations. Unfortunately, I was largely disappointed. Pullman's integration of apocryphal and biblical sources is enjoyable, and the narrative provides a unique perspective on the paradoxes of Christianity. But Pullman all too often goes for shock value rather than an earnest examination, and the result is more bitter polemic than brilliant prose.

Pullman tells the story of Jesus Christ that any reader of the Bible is familiar with, but with an important twist. Jesus and Christ are two separate individuals, twins born to Mary. While their lives parallel each other in many ways, their motivations are different. Jesus, the eldest and "good one," is driven to bring the kingdom of God on Earth. He seeks to truly implement the kingdom peacefully, without compulsion, dramatic miracle, or man-made institutionalization. Christ, the "scoundrel" on the other hand, seeks the miraculous, the dramatic, and power on Earth. In doing so, he is led by a mysterious figure urging him to rewrite history for "truth's sake." Though Jesus gains the attention in life, it is Christ who rewrites history to his own perspective of truth.

Christianity promotes faith, yet miracles play an integral role in our history. The Bible talks of war and peace, the kingdom of heaven and the kingdom of God on Earth, revelation and individual action. These tensions are never resolved, nor (I would argue) are they supposed to be resolved. The genius and frustration of Christianity is it does not follow mortal norms. True, Christianity has been abused by many churches and individuals over the years. But a poor fake does not mean the original is bad.

The themes in Pullman's books are quickly recognizable to anyone who has read "The Grand Inquisitor" in The Brothers Karamazov. Unfortunately, Pullman is not a Dostoevsky. The ideas are tenuous and poorly developed; there is also an excessive amount of cynicism and bitterness between the lines. The book is a quick read at least, and the extensive recognizable passages taken directly from the Bible and Apocrypha further speed the reading along. I guess C.S. Lewis still has no peer.

The Shack

2010-08-23T17:35:00.000-04:00

The Shack, by William Paul Young. Newbury Park, CA: Windblown Media, 2007. 248 pp., $14.99.

Though I am working on a number of other books right now, I needed a small paperback to read while pacing at night with my newborn son. Having heard about this self-published religious book on the New York Times bestseller list for over two years, I was intrigued. And indeed, the novel was a rewarding experience that allowed me to examine traditional dogma about the godhead, judgment, repentance, and the afterlife. Young's simple writing style is effective at conveying difficult religious concepts, though it would be a bit of a stretch to claim the book lays out a coherent theology. Instead, the book, while fictional, seeks to describe God and religion in more personal terms that can be better grasped by all laypersons.

Following the brutal murder of his daughter Missy, Mack feels even more distant from his Creator. So God sends him a brief note (signed Papa) inviting Mack to meet with him at the very sight of the murder. What follows is a CS Lewis-esque dialectic enclosed in a symbolic weekend vacation getaway. Mack meets God, or rather the Godhead, who appear as a good-natured black woman, a Middle Eastern Jew, and an ethereal Asian young woman. God collectively effuses a mix of complex teleological competence, love, and forgiveness. And indeed, the context of Missy's death is a vivid foundation to discuss questions of suffering and the purpose of life.

"I am not who you think I am." So says God to Mack, the character around which the novel revolves. Indeed, that seems to be the real thrust of the entire novel. Tradition, culture, dogma, and religious institutions have shrouded the true nature of God and his personal relationship with man. The author's best writing comes out when he attempts to reorient our thinking about God, the afterlife, the role of the church, and the authorship of the scriptures, and the nature of the Godhead. The danger in such a style of writing is that it tends towards a shock-and-awe tone that may tend to be controversial for its own sake. The author does not engage too much in this, though the lack of a coherent worldview in the narrative seems to suggest that he sometimes just throws new ideas out there to see if they will stick.

I enjoyed the book and its thought-provoking ideas, but I cannot elevate it to a CS Lewis level-apologetic. The ending, while surprising, undermines some of the facets of the narrative. And as a work of fiction, the author appears to have taken a few too many creative liberties that negatively impacts his credibility. Still, for a middle-of-the-night-read with a baby in my arms, it was a lot of fun.

Food Politics

2010-06-23T09:37:00.000-04:00

Food Politics: What Everyone Needs to Know, by Robert Paarlberg. New York: Oxford University Press, 2010. 218 pp., $16.95.

I originally found this book while working on a project in my graduate program concerning food transportation security. Paarlberg only tangentially examines food transportation but I was intrigued by his cogent analysis of the role of food in public policy. So I decided to read the book in my own time. Though not explicitly the author's intention, this book is an excellent, well-thought response to Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma (which I reviewed here a few months ago). Examining the world's food supply from a holistic point of view, Paarlberg rebuts some of the growing criticism of the Green Revolution and provides evidence to support the positive aspects of the modern food industry.

Organic food, locally grown food, no processed foods, no GMOs, no food industry...this seems to be the trend for many Americans. In addition to these emerging concerns and movements, there remains the ever-present debates about farm subsidies, rural America, ethanol, corn, etc. Food and politics are closely intertwined, as Paarlberg repeatedly notes in this book. Thinking about food requires a careful examination of political and economic institutions as well. Structuring the book as a question and answer session with his readers, the author seeks to highlight how economics and politics play a role in what we eat. And though he seeks to be relatively unbiased, Paarlberg does try to push against some of the growing criticism against free trade, technological enhancement of food products, and agribusiness.

The evidence Paarlberg marshals in favor of the "postmodern farmer" is significant. The Malthusian famine has never occurred despite an incredible explosion in the world's population. And with the exception of a number of African nations and totalitarian regimes, famines are extremely rare at all. The reason is enormous productivity gains by the world's farmers. New crop variations, farming methods, pesticides, and (most importantly for Paarlberg) the invention of synthetic fertilizers all helped to dramatically increase yield per acre planted. Environmentalists or other groups who emphasize the negative aspects of these technological advancements fail to grasp that without these tools, the world's population could not be sustained. Or, in order to sustain such a large population, more and more environmentally sensitive land would have to be used for food production, seriously exacerbating problems such as erosion and deforestation.

Moving beyond the production of food, Paarlberg critically examines the consumption of food, particularly in the developed world. In this vein, the author and Michael Pollan see eye to eye. Subsidies and advertising techniques of many food companies have helped to promote an obesity epidemic. Paarlberg argues (rightly I believe) that obesity should be considered as serious a problem as malnutrition. Both create enormous public costs and reduce the quality of living. Developed countries are not doing enough to address the growing epidemic, in part because public officials do not have adequate tools to remedy the issue.

While I appreciate Paarlberg's economic rebuttal to Pollan, I remain unconvinced at the individual level. Not all food is created equally, and that which we ingest cannot feasibly be considered as simply any other commodity that has benefited from global free trade. The external costs of many agricultural practices have never been fully internalized, leading to persistent overproduction and tragedies of the commons. It seems appropriate too that developed countries start to act more aggressively to improve the quality of food production, for such improvements will not occur spontaneously through government action. Paarlberg's book would have benefited from a more comprehensive prognosis of the future of food politics, particularly in the US. I would also have appreciated better documentation of the sources for his evidence too. Still, I would recommend this book as a valuable supplement to ongoing debates about food subsidies, the obesity epidemic, international food trade, and food safety.

Kidnapped

2010-06-19T15:25:00.000-04:00

Kidnapped, by Robert Louis Stevenson. Audio Book by Librivox: Available here.

Both because I was training for a marathon and because I was growing tired of only listening to music or podcasts on my daily commute, I decided to peruse the free audio books available at Librivox. And I was delighted to find this old childhood classic. I first read this novel when I was 10 or 11 I believe, and it was one of my favorite adventure stories from one of my favorite authors. After listening to this nearly two decades later, I continue to love it.

The story centers on the young heir David Balfour whose uncle pays to have him kidnapped rather than have to share the family fortune. Stolen on the high seas, rebelling from the crew with the aid of a Scottish highlander Alan Breck Stewart, shipwrecked, and pursued as a murder suspect, Balfour has quite the adventure for a sixteen-year old. It is no wonder that as a young boy this novel conjured up many images of adventure and intrigue. And I am not embarrassed to admit that I felt the same emotions again while listening to this book.

Stevenson is a descriptive author to say the least. I have never been to Scotland, nor did I live in the 1700s shortly after the Jacobite uprising. Yet, the author's attention to detail, effective use of first person, and captivating plot line draw me deeply into the setting. I was particularly impressed with the descriptions of hardship and trial found in the book. Rarely do modern day authors seek to detail just how hunger feels or what sleep deprivation or physical suffering is like. And even rarer too is the protagonist who must battle with physical and mental trials without ever fully overcoming them. Balfour is particularly likable because he has suffered in identifiable ways and yet ultimately emerges triumphant. In that, Kidnapped mirrors (and complements) Stevenson's other great masterpiece Treasure Island. I look forward to reading this novel to my son and filling his mind with adventure.

Superfusion

2010-05-21T07:29:00.000-04:00

Superfusion: How China and America became one economy and why the world's prosperity depends on it by Zachary Karabell. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2009. 340 p., $26.00.

I picked this book up because I liked the title and cover and thought I would agree with author's fundamental prognosis about the state of international economics. Additionally, I have already read and reviewed two books that focused tangentially on China and its role in international finance (here and here). I was hoping for a book that confronted the issue head on, and I wasn't entirely disappointed with Karabell's attempt to do so. However, the author fails to take full advantage of his interesting and pressing subject matter, and the book quickly turns into an unabashed plug for foreign direct investment in China.

Karabell begins well enough, focusing on the remarkable evolution of China following the reforms of Deng Xiaoping. The gradual liberalization of the country has transformed the country within two decades from a poor developing country into one of the largest potential markets for American businesses. The author charts the successes of some notable American businesses such as KFC, Avon, and Nike that have been able to enter the Chinese market and thereby revitalize their business throughout the world. At the same time, Chinese companies have vigorously entered the American market, both as major exporters of manufactured goods and as multinational companies.

The fusion that Karabell refers to really took off at the turn of the millennium when China was accepted into the WTO. With unfettered access to global markets China was able to take full advantage of its comparative advantage of cheap labor. But despite its new economic prowess, China refuses to consider itself a major world actor, at least until very recently. When the economic crisis of 2007–2008 hit, China (and America) realized just how intertwined they had become. Indeed, Karabell suggests that without the investment prowess of China and the consumption demand in the US, the world economy would be barely puttering along.

Karabell's analysis is accurate to a point. His insights into the growing Chinese middle class and its implications for American businesses were particularly valuable. At the same time however, he sidesteps important issues such as inflation in China and the crucial role of the 1997 Asian financial crisis in the mentality of the Chinese leadership. The paucity of data and the lack of a more concrete thesis also diminished the book's value. Perhaps it is because the author has spent much time on Wall Street and investment banks, but the book eventually strikes the tone of an investment brochure touting the next rising company. To such a brochure I would immediately ask, why is China different from Japan? Why should we assume the political status quo in China will continue? How can trade imbalances continually indefinitely in a Malthusian world? Karabell takes a shot at answering these questions, but I ended the book unsatisfied. Still, I am grateful to find at least some out there trying to quantify and understand the most important trend (I believe) in contemporary international affairs.

Too Big to Fail

2010-05-13T14:37:00.000-04:00

Too Big to Fail by Andrew Ross Sorkin. New York: Viking Press, 2009. 600 p., $18.12.

This is the second book concerning the financial crisis that I have read. The first book, In Fed We Trust (review here), was a huge disappointment. Thankfully, Sorkin's excellent novel has restored my faith in the ability of journalists to write excellent prose longer than the length of an article. The author combines exhaustive research and meticulous attention to detail with a captivating narrative about the events that led to the greatest collapse of public trust in modern history.

Sorkin's great advantage is his enormous pool of sources and connections with the titans of the financial industry, and he takes full advantage of his insider status. Throughout the book, the author is able to reconstruct the events, conversations, and emotions from the collapse of Bear Stearns through the recapitalization of the major banks via TARP. Though not all conversations can be considered a verbatim transcript, the details lend credence to the timeline and the overall presentation of the facts. Many of the major events discussed in the book have already been thoroughly discussed and analyzed. The added value of this book is its ability to elucidate the decisionmaking process that led to the major events.

The major players involved-from government officials such as Paulsen and Bernanke to prominent CEOs such as JP Morgan's Dimon and Lehman's Fuld-were clearly not stupid. Nor were they inept or criminal. Rather, they struggled to grasp the true import of events that proceeded at such a rapid pace as to belie any attempts to catch up. From the rescue of Bear Stearns to the collapse of Lehman Brothers, policymakers arguably had some breathing room to stabilize the financial system. But what was lacking during that period was political capital and the sense of urgency that seems to be crucial to carry out drastic actions. And in retrospect, drastic actions were certainly needed at a very early stage.

The book flows smoothly through the intricacies of novel financial instruments as easily as the personal biographies of key actors. I was particularly impressed with Sorkin's ability to jump from one perspective to another without losing any narrative momentum. The editing of the book leaves something to be desired-the spelling and typographical errors were distracting-but I was captivated by Sorkin's writing style.

The conclusion of the book is an excellent summary of what we know up to this point. Which is to say, not enough. Financial companies have gone back to massive leveraged positions and politicians have fought against any regulatory plans that would restrict banks from engaging in risky behavior. I would have appreciated hearing more of Sorkin's perspective on the lessons of the Great Recession, but I suppose I will just need to read his articles in The New York Times.

Women Who Make the World Worse

2010-04-15T15:55:00.000-04:00

Women Who Make the World Worse, by Kate O’Beirne. New York: Sentinel, 2006. 230 p., $24.95.

A friend loaned me this book and recommended I read it. Having finally finished all the other books currently on my list, I acquiesced. The book was frustrating in its caricatures, intriguing in its rhetorical approach, and unable to provide a coherent conservative response to the women’s movement.

In her book, O’Beirne reviews the damage done to the moral fiber of society and women’s welfare by activists from the 1960s forward who have agitated for more rights for women. Efforts to support and encourage working mothers, reduce discrimination and domestic violence, integrate women into the military, and remove perceived gender biases in the educational system are unnecessary, counterproductive, and incompatible with basic biological differences of men and women, according to the author. Per O’Beirne, abortion is the “holy grail” of the women’s movement, the ultimate means for feminists to circumvent biology and reorient society towards an androgynous, gender-neutral world.

Like many politically-charged books, this novel makes more emotive claims than it can substantiate. More rigorous sources would have been helpful, and the selective quotations from studies and feminists so clearly despised by O’Beirne are suspect. The author frequently emphasizes opposing arguments as so clearly wrong and evil that they need no rebuttal. But I found myself frequently confused by this approach. For example, is not “mother love” at least in part a social construction? Should not women, if they choose, cultivate their skills and identities outside of rearing children? These are legitimate questions that deserve an honest examination.

If we accept O’Beirne’s claim that biological differences between men and women necessitate dramatically different social positions for both genders, where is the role of culture, society, and civilization? The concluding chapter is entitled, “Mother Nature is a Bitch” and highlights some intriguing evidence about the biological differences of men and women. I certainly agree that men and women are different. But in my mind, the role of culture and civilization is to bring order and morals to a Machiavellian world. Taking O’Beirne’s basic argument to its extreme would suggest a Paleolithic world where polygamous men brutally have power over strictly monogamous women. Obviously, this is not the author’s objective. But what is her ideal civilization? In what year do we freeze social progress?

Certainly, the women’s movement—and any social movement for that matter—can frequently promote misguided initiatives. On that point, O’Beirne has some valuable things to say. But any effort that seeks to proscribe one acceptable mode of behavior—whether it states that all women should stay in the home or go to work—is wrong. The ennobling aspect of a progressive civilization is its empowerment of individuals to be themselves. The women who make the world worse are those that insist that women (and men) must act according to a certain strict standard that is uniform across the gender.

In Fed We Trust

2010-04-07T15:20:00.000-04:00

In Fed We Trust: Ben Bernanke's War on the Great Panic by David Wessel. New York: Crown Business, 2009. 323 p., $26.99.

Awful.

Perhaps I have a higher standard for literature after having read three excellent books in a row in three very different genres. Perhaps I had high expectations because I have done a fair amount of research concerning central banking in financial crises. And perhaps I simply read a different book than the one read by Joseph Stiglitz, Professor Mankiw, and the others quoted on the dust cover. Whatever the reason, this was a terrible book.

Combining immense journalistic superficiality with an unrestrained tone of condescension towards the reader, David Wessel attempts to explain the working of the US Federal Reserve and its current President, Ben Bernanke. The author gives us his interpretation of how the Federal Reserve suddenly rose to prominence during the ongoing financial crisis, and "translates" every comment from the Federal Reserve statements for the untrained, a habit that quickly annoys. According to Wessel, the Fed's ability to act quickly with large resources at its disposal and without democratic constraints propelled it to the key actor during the frantic days in 2007 and 2008 when the crisis was at its peak. As the author writes at least 150 times Bernanke is willing to do whatever it takes to stabilize the economy (yes, the italics are the authors).

But I honestly do not know what point the author wishes to make beyond that. At times, it feels like he cobbled together clippings from his Wall Street Journal articles and instructed a secretary to insert the phrase whatever it takes as transition paragraphs. As such, the book is at best a timeline history of the crisis during the past two years but without real information, data, or bibliography. Or it is an extended op-ed praising (and warning about?) the Federal Reserve. Or perhaps it is merely an attempt to make some quick money off the continuing recession. (Note: The recession is continuing. So how can you write a comprehensive examination of the Federal Reserve even before we have all the details?)

The only redeeming aspect of the book is that it is short: 275 pages with generous margins and spacing. So thankfully, I was able to finish it relatively quickly. Hopefully, I can find another book that will explain and discuss the financial crisis without also managing to annoy and frustrate.

Bearing The Cross

2010-04-04T21:30:00.000-04:00

Bearing the Cross: Martin Luther King, Jr., and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference by David J. Garrow. New York: Quill William Morrow, 1986. 800 p., $12.50.

I did not plan it this way, but today marks the 42nd anniversary of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and today I finished this exhaustive and exhausting biography of the great civil rights leader. My utter lack of knowledge concerning the civil rights movement coupled with Garrow's fast-paced writing style led me to inhale this book during the past week. Due to the author's unbelievable attention to details and primary sources, the novel is a unique and invaluable insight into a volatile period in our nation's history and the one man who probably epitomized the era best. But since Garrow leaves no stone uncovered, I am also left with an unsettled feeling. Heroes have warts--can they still be heroes?

Unlike traditional biographies that begin with a leisurely stroll through the subject's childhood, this novel jumps right to the moment of King's rise to prominence during the Montgomery bus boycotts of 1955-1956. The timing is perfect, for Garrow makes it clear from the onset that "the movement made Martin rather than Martin making the movement" (Epilogue, p. 625). MLK, a young new minister begrudgingly accepts the call to lead a new organization dedicated to seeking racial justice in the one city in the Deep South. But events continue to sweep the charismatic leader along, from Montgomery, to Albany to Birmingham to Selma to Chicago, and ultimately, to Memphis.

Dr. King was a figure that inspired millions in his bold calls for nonviolence and in his righteous demands for a more equitable society. But being a figurehead is also a burden, the cross referred to in the book's title. For though many saw him as the moral leader of a struggling nation, Dr. King was but a mortal man with serious flaws that he only too clearly recognized. How does one reconcile the great public figure who helped bring about so much good with the private man who was a chauvinist womanizer that neglected his family? What should we sacrifice on the altar of "the greater good?" The author--and indeed Martin Luther King Jr.--do not have a ready answer.

The author does an excellent job of piecing together an enormous amount of information. Details from FBI records along with personal interviews weave a comprehensive picture of the man and the Movement. Having a woeful lack of knowledge concerning this era in our country's history, I was surprised at every page by the internecine conflict of the movement, the sheer bigotry of so many Americans, the significant effect of Dr. King's protest efforts, and the paranoid state of government affairs both domestically and abroad. Perhaps because the book is directed towards those more knowledgeable on the period, I found myself wishing for more background and synthesis with other events occurring from 1955-1968. At Garrow likely could have written a book 200 pages shorter if he had removed some mundane details and redundant sections. But considering how captivated I remained throughout, these are minor faults.

Ultimately, I am left struggling with this accurate and real-life depiction of an American hero. For I do believe MLK was a hero, called by God (as he recounts) at his kitchen table on January 27, 1956 to help transform America for the better. I am impressed by his courage and peaceful leadership at a time of heightened anxiety and fear. At the same time, how can I account for his infidelity and faults in his role as a husband and father? If no success can compensate for failure in the home, is Dr. King a true hero? I have no perfect conclusion. But I suspect that it is for this very reason that we are enjoined not to judge others. We all have a purpose in this life; at the same time, we all have serious mortal flaws. The two aspects of our nature are not mutually exclusive.

The Omnivore's Dilemma

2010-04-02T17:30:00.000-04:00

The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals by Michael Pollan. New York: Penguin Press, 2006. 450 p., $26.95.

If the measure of a book is how much we change our behavior based on what we learn and think about, then this book certainly qualifies as a favorite of the year. Michael Pollan skillfully guides the readers through a philosophical discussion about an important yet overlooked aspect of life: food. I have rarely, if ever, considered what I eat worthy of intense thought and philosophy. In our house, the biggest objectives at meal time were time efficiency, cost-savings, eating healthy, and not making too big a mess, in that order. Now that Jamie and I have both read the book and discussed its implications, things have already changed, and for the better. (For Jamie's review of the book, click here.)

The title of the book aptly summarizes the key paradox driving the book. Humans are biologically adapted to consume a variety of foods, but the sheer diversity can overwhelm us and leave us unsatisfied. What tools do we have to guide our food discrimination? Sensory organs help, as do shared knowledge passed down through generations. Culture too has evolved to codify shared knowledge and bring some order to the diversity.

But what about the modern American? Lacking a homogenous food culture and subject to the whims of diet fads and a fast-paced life, we have largely removed the traditional guiding constraints on food. The Omnivore's Dilemma has come back with full force in the modern era in the US. And according to the author, our collective solution (if it can be termed thus) has been to rely more and more on one product: corn. Government subsidy policies and the plant's unique abilities to adapt itself to the modern industrial product have rendered Americans more dependent on one calorie source than ever before.

Pollan's exploration of the industrial food production process caused much consternation honestly. The economist within me wishes to praise the efficiency and productivity gains of economies of scale, high competition based on price alone, and the homogenization of products. But the author is compelling in arguing that food is not a normal commodity. We may listen to an iPod but we don't ingest it. The biological system does not follow economic laws after all and simplifying food and calories down to a price sticker may oversimplify. In other words, as consumers of food we need to be more discriminating than we have been in the past. And by we, I mean me.

The second aspect of the industrial food system is that it is unsustainable from a biological perspective. Pollan readily acknowledges that we cannot go back to a hunter/gatherer society, nor is vegetarianism a solution to concerns about overgrazing, ecological destruction, and depletion of other natural resources. Instead, he advocates a holistic approach whereby food production mimics natural cycles found in biology. Yes prices will increase. But he argues that so will quality, gratitude, and a more stable American culture with respect to food consumption.

Like Colin Beavan's No Impact Man that I reviewed last year, this book errs on the side of idealism rather than reality. The concepts sound great, and personally I feel to change my behavior and be more discerning in what I eat. But how could a non-industrial food process be enacted on the large scale? Pollan spends a large amount of time focusing on Polyface Farms and their mode of producing food. But one farm cannot feed everyone. Of course, removing subsidies to corn producers would be a move in the right direction, though it is politically a non-starter. Still, I fail to see a coherent way we could move our society forward on this point. I guess ultimately it goes back to the concept that change begins with one person. So here goes.

The Scarlet Letter

2010-03-22T15:29:00.000-04:00

The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Boston: Bedford Books of St. Martin's Press, 1991. 371 p., $4.00.

I recently decried to my wife how there are no great American authors. I love Dostoevsky, Verne, Dickens, Hugo, Wilde, etc., and I felt that American literature was sorely lacking when compared with these great authors of fiction. In response, Jamie got this novel off our bookshelves and suggested that I read it. After having read Hawthorne's classic, I must immediately retract my sweeping condemnation of American authors. My lack of esteem for this continent is due more to my own ignorance than to any deficiency on the part of America's authors. Hawthorne's exquisite use of the English language and evocative imagery are nearly unparalleled. And in dealing with a challenging subject--adultery--the author has compelled me to revisit assumptions about the public good, sin, repentance, and social welfare.

The Scarlet Letter begins ominously on the day of the trial for a woman found guilty of adultery in colonial Massachusetts. The crime is made apparent by the child in her arms, but mystery surrounds the second party who must necessarily be party to the crime. Still, the woman named Hester Prynne is condemned to wear the letter A on her clothes for the rest of her life to stigmatize her for her crime against society. The book unfolds during the next seven years with piercing insights into both Prynne, her daughter, and eventually, the father of the child. The novel proceeds almost as a mystery since one guilty party has been duly convicted of society while the other remains only in the shadows. And too, the author narrates the story as if he is unsure of the justice of the arrangement as well as the morality of the entire situation.

Throughout the novel, Hawthorne continually returns to questions concerning society's responsibility towards the wayward. What is the role of guilt in reformation? Is social ostracism the appropriate means of punishment? Or should society rather focus on reforming citizens rather than punishing them? Though the subject matter has certainly changed over time--an adultery trial today would seem laughable--the debate over our criminal justice system remains.

For me, an additional question emerged from reading this book: what is the role/purpose of guilt? From what does guilt spring? If guilt is inherent in the act of doing wrong, then the role of society would seem to be minimal at best since no one can escape the consequences of their actions. If on the other hand guilt is a social construct then society must be intimately involved in order to preserve certain norms of behavior. Part of the beauty of this novel is Hawthorne's ability to investigate these issues without trying to force his opinion across. His narration is thorough, entertaining, and informative. But it is also objective.

Finally, I was enthralled with the author's use of the English language. I have rarely, if ever, felt so jealous of an author's vocabulary or grammatical abilities. True, the sentences are complex and require real concentration, but the reward is significant. The full depth and capabilities of English are on full display in this novel. No wonder then that many high school classes read this book. I only wonder how I missed out on such a great American classic all these years.

How to Win Friends and Influence People

2010-03-02T14:48:00.000-05:00

How to Win Friends and Influence People, Revised Edition by Dale Carnegie. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1980. 299 p., $4.99.

I have heard about this book since I was a young teenager. And I have glanced at hundreds of books that were shameless rip-offs in every bookstore I have ever visited. In fact, after having read this classic self-help life coaching manual, I am left to believe that every other self-help book is a plagiarized version of Carnegie's ideas on public speaking and living. Indeed, my overall impression of this book is that Carnegie's ideas are so simple and pervasive in modern business that reading the book is almost rendered unnecessary. But it is nonetheless interesting to go back to the original source.

Carnegie's fundamental thesis is nothing other than the golden rule: Do unto others as we would have them do unto us. His genius lies in showing how taking such an approach can benefit you individually. Carnegie recognizes that everyone is inherently selfish and does not attempt to deny the fact. Rather, he uses our intrinsic self-interest as a means to motivate towards better and more considerate behavior towards others. Remembering names, avoiding contention, showing interest in others, being humble all enable business owners, parents, friends, co-workers etc. achieve what they want in their interactions with others. The "secret" is simply choosing-through self-interest alone- to be the one person who is not explicitly acting in a selfish manner.

The tone of the book is positive throughout and full of success stories of individuals who applied the principals found in the book. Incidentally, the stories are a fascinating insight into the business environment of the country one century ago. Much has changed, and I suspect Carnegie's principles may be less effective in the non-personal interactions of computers, emails, and such.

The book walks a fine line between cynical manipulation and positive selflessness. The author is careful to point out at regular intervals that faking is a bad idea; to truly win friends and influence people, you have to be sincerely interested in others and be concerned for them. Despite these warnings however, the book does a poor job of showing the negative consequences of acting insincerely. A few stories showing how manipulation backfires and is morally reprehensible would have been a positive contribution. I fear however that many unscrupulous people have twisted this book's message to their own purposes. And many more have plagiarized Carnegie's style and subject material to further their own ends.

Ultimately, I find Carnegie's book an attempt to teach basic religion in a business context. While such a book can be helpful, it will likely only partially succeed because it fails to place such behavior in a broader context. Religion embeds human behavior within a narrative that supersedes any individual or community; a connection to something greater than ourselves is a basic human need that I personally believe only religion can adequately satisfy.

Famine

2010-02-11T14:59:00.000-05:00

Famine: A Short History by Cormac O Grada. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009. 327 p., $18.45.

Having only a cursory background in development economics, I decided to take this crash course in the history and causes of famines. I consider famines to be one of the most serious (and preventable) of human disasters, and I hoped to discover the general academic consensus of the causes and prevention of famine and hunger. Though the book satisfied my interest in the history of famine, I found it lacking in prescriptive power and creativity. I suppose I should have paid closer attention to the subtitle; this is a history book not a policy book so those looking for a static perspective on the past will not be disappointed.

Judging this book by the cover would be a mistake. Though "the third horseman" features prominently throughout the book, the general tone of the book is positive. For the author, famine is not the inevitable Malthusian scourge of humanity, but rather an unfortunate event occurring with declining frequency. Drawing on all available information-hearsay or otherwise-O Grada reviews the ancient and modern past, charting prominent famines over time. The Great Irish Famine (1840), Bengal Famine (1944), St. Petersburg Siege (1943), and Great Leap Forward (1960) are of particular interest to the author, largely because the data is available and largely reliable. Famines farther back are only sketched in minor detail since it is difficult to trust oral or unofficial accounts prone to exaggeration.

Besides the historical reviews, O Grada exmines economic and physical elements of famine. Markers such as food prices, declining health statistics, negative weather cycles, and other telltale symptoms are warning signs that policymakers ignore to their detriment. The consequences of famine also outlast the immediate crisis, including reduced birth rates, stunted growth, and greater risk of future famine. And political organization certainly has both exacerbated and alleviated suffering in periods of famine. The Great Leap Forward in China and the ARA rescue of Russia in 1922 are perhaps the starkest examples of governmental stupidity and benevolence respectively. Despite differences across time and place, I was struck by how resilient societies have become in the face of enormous hardship. Malthus truly underestimated the ingenuity of humankind.

I appreciate O Grada's academic honesty in equivocating on data reliability, but I would have appreciated the author taking a stand more frequently. What is his unique contribution to the debate? For instance, how common is famine over the length of history? How many have died? Given his review of the existent literature, what are the key causes of the Bengali famine? What is the best way to mitigate future famine? O Grada does strike an ambivalent tone toward NGO relief efforts, pointing to their need for constant crises to substantiate their existence.

In the final chapter, the author is almost whimsical in his claim that major global famine crises are a thing of the past. "Probably for the first time in history, only pockets of the globe, such as parts of Africa, Afghanistan, and North Korea, now remain truly vulnerable to the threat of major famine." It was only at this point that I felt duped by this book's optimistic tone because this claim depends on a number of dubious assumptions. Climate change, loss in biodiversity, regional war, and economic instability will all heighten the danger of famine in the near future, probably in unexpected areas. Any study of history should provide us with a sense of caution, perspective, and vigilance for the future. I acknowledge progress made, but I remain skeptical that we have beaten this evil simply through economic development. When I read "for the first time in history," I start looking for history to rear its head soon. I am going to make sure I have some food storage.

The Karamazov Brothers

2010-02-10T12:33:00.000-05:00

The Karamazov Brothers, by Fyodor Dostoevsky. Trans. by Ignat Avsey. New York: OUP, 1998. 1012 p., $7.99

I decided to take a step back from political books for the month of January and reread my second favorite book of all time (Les Miserables being the first). And sure enough, The Karamazov Brothers did not disappoint. Except for the scriptures and Les Miserables, no other book has left such an indelible imprint on my worldview or given me so much to think about. I am indebted to Dostoevsky (and indeed Avsey's excellent translation) for opening up new vistas of possibilities and perspectives.

The intensity, passion, and raw insights into the human psyche in the Karamazov Brothers are nearly overwhelming. Yet what makes this feat the more impressive is that Dostoevsky explores such important subjects comprehensively without exhausting or boring the reader. Despite being over 1,000 pages, the novel never feels drawn out, ponderous, or forced. Instead, important insights into life are interwoven with an intriguing plot centering on the murder of Fyodor Pavlovich Karamazov. Dostoevsky perfectly balances story with study, using well-developed characters to explore subjects the author has clearly thought considerably about. The Brothers Karamazov is Dostoevsky's final work, and though he intended to write a sequel, the book can stand on its own.

The brothers referred to in the title have little interaction with each other prior to the events in the book. Their father, "an eccentric, a type not uncommon however, not only worthless and depraved but muddle-headed as well, yet one of those whose muddle-headedness never stops them from making an excellent job of their business affairs," is what brings the three sons into contact with each other and their opposing worldviews. The eldest, Mitya, is compulsive, passionate, irrational, jealous, and accusing his father of depriving him of his inheritance. Ivan is cynical, cold, and inwardly angry towards God more than any man. And Alyosha, the great protagonist of the novel, is young, yet honest with himself and with the world; this honesty does not always heal or assuage however. While each was reared outside of their father's home, all now find themselves in the same small town in Russia in the presence of their father, until his murder.

I would love to characterize some of the other key figures in the book, such as Iluyshechka, Smerdyakov, and the Starets Zosima, but I simply do not have time. Every character Dostoevsky introduces provides crucial insights into the plot and into human nature. I love his descriptions of their thoughts, feelings, and discussions. (Both Hugo and Dostoevsky excel in their character descriptions, and I believe it is this skill that most endears me to their works.) I do not wonder that Sigmund Freud called this book "the most magnificent novel ever written."

A few central questions really stand out. First, what is the role of suffering in mortality? Second, how do we overcome sin and guilt? Third, what is good? What is truth? How do we measure morality? Finally, how can we serve our fellow man? Dostoevsky does not explicitly ask or answer any of these questions. Instead, his novel provides fertile ground for personal pondering on these subjects. In that sense, this is a deep book and is perhaps not suitable "light reading." But I have appreciated this chance to stop and be a little more honest with myself about who I am and who I wish to be.

The Hawk and the Dove

2010-01-06T12:56:00.000-05:00

The Hawk and the Dove: Paul Nitze, George Kennan, and the History of the Cold War by Nicholas Thompson. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 2009. 403 p., $27.50.

My interest in this book came from a number of angles. Paul Nitze is my graduate school's namesake, George Kennan is my diplomatic icon, and the Cold War and its remnants continues to be a key component of the transatlantic relationship. So for me, this book had it all.

And indeed, the author strikes an excellent balance in both his writing style and subject matter. From their early years in established families to their divergent career paths, Thompson examines both the personal lives and professional work of these two great thinkers. Nitze's attention to detail and obsession with the efficacy of all types of bombs is highlighted along with his flamboyant outgoing personality. Kennan's masterful analysis of Russia from the very onset of the Cold War and his subsequent policy recommendations are aptly highlighted while also providing important insights into his personal brooding.

The two great public servants frequently disagreed with each other but remained remarkably close personally. Such camaraderie seems antiquated today but is a healthy reminder that opinions on policy need not pervade personal relationships. To the end of their lives, Nitze and Kennan maintained the ability to respectfully disagree on many issues while still seeming to agree on the questions that mattered the most. Indeed, one of the most remarkable things about both of these men is how their professional lives truly spanned the full breadth of the greatest political events of our time, from World War II through the Iraq War.

The title strains somewhat to create a black and white distinction between the perspectives of Nitze and Kennan (the hawk and dove respectively). As is the case with most great thinkers, there were continually strains of grey, uncertainty, and ambivalence for both men concerning the use of force and the efficacy of war. It is indeed striking for example that Nitze never advocated the use of nuclear weapons when it came down to it, for example in the Cuban Missile Crisis. And Kennan frequently articulated that war was needed...when it was truly needed. I appreciated the nuance of the narrative, despite the attempt at a catching title and introduction.

For my generation, it is all too easy to forget that nuclear weapons continue to exist and play a major role in international affairs. And it will be important to have great thinkers and leaders like Kennan and Nitze who can structure the debate and provide leadership as we continue to tackle this and other important issues in the international arena. This book was great reminder of how I personally aspire to serve in this manner.

Bound to Lead

2009-12-11T23:37:00.000-05:00

Bound to Lead: The Changing Nature of American Power by Joseph S. Nye, Jr. New York: Basic Books, Inc., 1990. 307 p., $16.50.

Somehow, in all my studies I have avoided reading this foundational book in international relations. I have of course heard references to Joseph Nye throughout and myself used the term "soft power" constantly. So, in a fit of realism, I decided to go back and read this book thoroughly to see what Nye had to say about power in the 20th century. And frankly, Nye's insights are prescient, innovative, and interesting even after almost two decades.

What is the nature of power in international relations? That has been a foundational question since the days of Greece. Without becoming too mired in political science jargon, Nye focuses squarely on both instruments of power and power conversion. Diplomats have long fretted about the balance of power and the means of creating a stable international system. The rise of the UK and the US seemed to demonstrate that the world was safest and most stable with a superpower hegemon that enforced the rules. But the author doubts both the viability of the theory and its applicability to Britain or the US. This book further argues that the tools used in international stability are changing. Military force is less convertible, more risky, and bears higher costs.

Nye deals squarely with the school of American declinism, which was going through a strong revival at the time of his writing. America's golden age as a superpower was likely exaggerated after the fact, since America was never overly dominant in the international system. Nye also points to the significant leads in innovative technology in the US, the structural deficiencies that were just beginning to become apparent in the Soviet Union and the hyperbole surrounding the rise of Japan. Although America's relative power may have declined somewhat, there was clearly no one who could honestly contest America's role as the leading power.

Twenty years after the books publication, Nye appears vindicated in nearly his entire analysis. I suppose that is why his material continues to be cited to this day. Fears of a Japanese takeover appear comical now, though it does shed some light on the current anti-Chinese warmongering. And in a world of Facebook, Google, Microsoft, and Boeing (I will avoid Citi and GM for the time being), the economic dominance of the United States remains viable and visible.

Despite the books strengths, I find that it has shaken my faith in the political science community. There is a real problem of small sample size in subject matter such as this. After all, how many hegemons have there been in a modern age? How can we truly make generalizable statements about international stability when we generally only discuss a period dating back to 1945? Political science seems less relevant than political analysis where examiners draw upon historical facts to discuss possible implications for the present without pretending to have predictive power. Perhaps that is the true political science after all.

No Impact Man

2009-12-01T08:44:00.000-05:00

No Impact Man: The Adventures of a Guilty Liberal who attempts to Save the Planet and the Discoveries He Makes about Himself and Our Way of Life in the Process by Colin Beavan. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2009. 274 p., $25.00.

Pushing a point to the extreme often highlights important underlying principles. In this book, Colin Beavan does just that with his own lifestyle. For one year, this "guilty liberal" decides to swear off essentially all the conveniences of modern society: electricity, take-out food, public transportation, in short, anything that creates a negative environmental impact. The self-imposed environmental exile proceeds through stages, first cutting out trash and transportation, not purchasing new items, eating only locally grown food, and finally cutting electricity. As more and more of the modern lifestyle is trimmed away, Beavan finds a greater connection to his family and a deeper understanding about what makes us happy.

The book is written with a clear spiritual tone. That is, Beavan sees saving the planet as part of a larger search for the purpose of life and living. Beavan argues that mass consumerism has clouded our worldview to such an extent that we are willing to sacrifice national happiness for gross national product. Production and consumption define society rather than wellbeing and relationships. Reducing frivolous consumption thus not only saves the planet, it also helps us live more meaningful lives.

In this context then, there are remarkable similarities between Beavan and the modern message of most religions. We long for a purpose greater than ourselves, a collective goal to strive towards. While Christianity focuses on heaven and a spiritual salvation, Beavan's brand of envrionmentalism focuses on harmony with the earth and temporal wellbeing. The two are not incompatible, and in fact the book highlighted for me how environmentalism can and should team up with religion to promote healthier living. After all, both teach that we are stewards of this earth and we have a responsibility both collectively and individually.

As evidence of this book's value, my personal behavior has been significantly influenced by Beavan's suggestions. I have realized how much I needlessly waste, and I am striving to better use what I already have. Lights are turned off more frequently, we are avoiding single-use packaging, and trying to eat more locally. The reminder that relationships and a life well-lived are more important than degrees and positions is also particularly pertinent at this time in my life.

If there is one downfall in Beavan's novel, it is the somewhat melodramatic and emotive focus on collective guilt. Indeed, while the conservative movement all too often utilizes the politics of fear, the left seems to be entrenched in the politics of guilt. Atoning for past sins is neither helpful nor particularly appealing. The book shines when it focuses on the individual and what we can do today to have a better life and be better stewards of this world; it fails when it starts cataloging the past excesses of humanity. We cannot change the past, we can only learn lessons. So let's focus on making the present better using what we already know.

Liberty and Tyranny

2009-11-28T22:10:00.000-05:00

Liberty and Tyranny by Mark R. Levin. New York: Threshold Editions, 2009. 245 p., $25.00.

Lately, I have been reading one liberal book followed by one conservative book in an effort to glean insights into the ideologies driving the country today. I have been largely unimpressed with those I have selected: see my recent reviews of the books by Krugman and Goldberg for example. But Mark Levin's book is a satisfying and coherent perspective of the conservative mindset. Drawing upon his legal background and not relying excessively on overblown political rhetoric, he frames the current environment as a choice between statists and strict constitutionalists. Statists-note the relatively neutral and largely accurate appellation-generally conceive of public policy as a series of collective action problems that can only be overcome through state-initiated regulation, legislation, and enforcement. Conservatives on the other hand hold private property in highest esteem; any excessive taking of an individual's private property to further a collective objective is suspect and only to be undertaken with the greatest of caution and reluctance. Conservatism means moving slowly in the public policy realm; statism-and ultimately tyranny-means mobilizing the significant resources of the federal government to try to promote the collective good.

While other authors have mentioned this dichotomy, Levin digs deeper into American legal history and showing the importance of the Supreme Court in effecting the significant changes of the past two hundred years. The Conservative's arch-nemesis, FDR, also comes through in Levin's readings as the epitome of statist intentions and faults. The author then uses this basis to examine pressing issues, such as health care, immigration, and foreign policy. Audaciously, Levin concludes with a conservative manifesto outlining his vision of what it truly means to be a conservative. The proposals listed are bold, and should give people from any political party reason to pause and reevaluate their political priorities.

As compelling and coherent as this book is, it highlights the true difficulties of modern conservatism. A party founded on Burke, as Levin clearly desires, simply is not feasible in the modern world. The world is a much more connected place today than it was in the days of the founding fathers. Levin may despise the Supreme Court for its constitutional interpretations dating back to the 1700s, but the federal court system is here to stay. Judicial review matters and must be respected for the rule of law. Its effectiveness in reigning in FDR's more audacious plans should come as some comfort to conservatives for example.

Levin implicitly and explicitly is calling for a return to the days before FDR, at least politically. Is that really realistic? The US is changing demographically and the world matters more than it did for the isolated young republic. I was surprised in fact by how ethnocentric Levin's suggestions were; "Americans before everyone else" was the rallying cry. But surely any conservative could quickly see the need for global cooperation in the realms of capital flows or intellectual property right standards? And I noted for example that in a rare moment of reticence, Levin did not explicitly call for the end of Medicare or Social Security, perhaps recognizing that America's entitlement programs are incredibly popular. So the end result is that in the name of ideological purity, the baby gets thrown out with the bathwater.

Still, I highly recommend this book. It is concise, fun, interesting, and compelling. If conservatives need a spokesperson, they should consider calling Mark Levin.

France in an Age of Globalization

2009-11-16T16:47:00.000-05:00

France in an Age of Globalization by Hubert Vedrine with Dominique Moisi. Trans. by Philip H. Gordon. Washington D.C.: Brooking Institution Press, 2001. 143 p., $19.95.

This short book-perhaps better called a monograph-examines the world from France's view. The author, Hubert Vedrine was Foreign Minister of France when this book was published and is perhaps best known for his provocative phrase calling the United States a "hyperpower" (hyperpuissance in the original French). Vedrine fleshes out these arguments in this novel, through the conversation with noted international affairs scholar and journalist Dominique Moisi. Moisi is a great foil for Vedrine's classic realist perspective and the conversation is engaging and genuine.

I was particularly fascinated with how prominent the United States was in France's worldview. Few other countries (perhaps the France, the United Kingdom and Japan alone) have had empires in their recent history, yet only France shows the continuing fascination with-and ambivalence towards-the American global influence. In the pre 9/11 world when this book was written, the French arguments against invading Iraq, against foreign military incursions, against overreaction to global terrorism, were already all present. Vedrine paints France as the best of friends with the United States; as a best friend, France feels compelled to dissuade the US from engaging in its more irrational pursuits.

The Foreign Minister walks a fine line, trying to argue against French defeatism and resignation with a future that does not match the past while suggesting that France has something unique and special to offer a globalized world. Arguing against excesses, the Minister nonetheless refuses to acknowledge that realism and liberal intergovernmentalism are at times incompatible. Indeed, some of the most amusing and entertaining chapters are when Moisi, a committed international moralist, tries to corner Vedrine to acknowledge that it is no longer moral to be a realist. Vedrine swats away such suggestions, but the dilemma remains. The never-ending international relations debate continues.

The Bottom Billion

2009-11-11T14:06:00.000-05:00

The Bottom Billion: Why the Poorest Countries are Failing and What Can Be Done About It by Paul Collier. New York: OUP, 2007. 205 p., $28.00

The world is climbing out of poverty. Is it leaving anyone behind? In this insightful, concise, and simple book Paul Collier says yes. Using his own research and that of his colleague Anke Hoeffler and others, Collier looks at the plight of the bottom billion people in the world who have actually regressed even as other countries have broken out of poverty in the last three decades. The former World Bank economist identifies four traps that have prevented certain countries from progressing: conflict, natural resources, being landlocked, and poor governance. After empirically demonstrating these traps, he briefly examines current instruments of assistance utilized by the international community: aid, military intervention, international law, and trade. His conclusion? We need a more innovative mix of policy instruments to help rescue the bottom sixth of humanity.

Collier's analysis is refreshing for its frankness and novel perspective. I appreciate his honest assessment that there is very little we can do for countries that have arbitrary, landlocked boundaries. As disheartening as this analysis may be, it is reality. Until we do more to help the neighbors of such countries, there is little we can directly do for them. His promotion of strategic military intervention under the right conditions is brave in the post-Iraq world. And his honest discussion of the benefits and limits of aid is very helpful coming from a World Bank economist.

My biggest concerns with the book are twofold. First, how do we navigate the significant political challenges of implementing change for the bottom billion before a catastrophic crisis? From an economic standpoint, the suggestions presented in the book are convincing, but from a political standpoint they appear nigh unimplementable. Second, to what extent does India and China skew any discussion of poverty? The vast majority of the "developing world" resides in one of these two countries. Are the developing countries simply riding on the coattails of these behemoths? Can we really address poverty without great policy coordination with their respective governments? These are perhaps more political questions, and as such, Collier is less equipped to answer them. Thus, the book feels like only the first half of a more comprehensive work.

Liberal Fascism

2009-11-09T22:20:00.001-05:00

Liberal Fascism: The Secret History of the American Left from Mussolini to the Politics of Meaning by Jonah Goldberg. New York: Doubleday, 2007. 482 p., $27.95.

Where to start? This book was recommended to me over the summer, and I promised if I would read it. Mostly, I was curious if the rhetoric was as inflamed and hyperbolic as the title suggests.

It is.

Goldberg argues (argue is an appropriate verb here) that the word fascism has been erroneously tied to the right of the political spectrum in an effort to debase the conservative movement. The author supports his claim with what can generously be described as a loose and selective use of 20th century history. For him, fascism has reared its ugly head continuously, starting with Woodrow Wilson, Mussolini, Hitler, FDR, JFK, and extending down to Hillary Clinton. Although the book decries the use of the word fascist as a catch-all used by liberals in describing the right, the author in turn hurls the emotionally-charged word with remarkable carelessness. Though he constantly writes he is not actually comparing liberals to Hitler or other authoritarian dictators of the not-distant past, that is exactly what he does.

From what I can tell, Goldberg decries government action in any facet of life. Indeed, he states that libertarianism would be the ideal political philosophy if it could only "account for children and foreign policy" (p. 344). His anger at government regulation, social change, and innovation in public policy is pronounced, and I got a distinct feeling while reading that he is not very fond of youth ("Historically, fascism is of necessity and by design a form of youth movement, and all youth movements have more than a whiff of fascism about them." (Page 165)) and children.

The book is thus along the lines of Krugman's book that I read previously: there is a coherent argument in there somewhere but it is drowned by the ridiculous adolescent name-calling and overdrawn comparisons and ad hominem attacks. The left/right divide has always been somewhat arbitrary and focused largely on economic cleavages in society; a book that looks at how this political division has changed over time would have been interesting and shed new light on modern conservatism. By using deliberately provocative words (including the title), name calling, and guilt by association, Goldberg has certainly moved books, but failed to provide any coherent or worthwhile contribution.

The author's purpose in writing this book, he writes in the conclusion, is to emulate William Buckley's famous outburst on television where he screamed at the liberal Gore Vidal, "Now listen, you queer, stop calling me a crypto-Nazi or I'll sock you in the goddamn face and you'll stay plastered," though with a little more civility. I credit Goldberg for honestly explaining his purpose, though I fear he falls short on the civility part.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

2009-10-26T10:20:00.000-04:00

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. New York, Del Rey, 2002. 832 p., $20.00.

I actually read this book during the summer and just never got around to writing a review. Perhaps I was inspired in my laziness by the book itself. Adams' zany, incoherent, pseudo-sci fi novel seems to instill the reader with a sense of listlessness and lack of purpose. In following the main characters Arthur and Ford through the Galaxy, I get the feeling that the universe is an incoherent, noisy, and bizarre place. In fact, that seems to be the real thesis of all of Adams' work. Nothing makes sense, so just laugh it off.

The novel, developed from a radio series, begins with Arthur fleeing the planet Earth just prior to its destruction to make way for an intergalactic highway. Along with his friend Ford Prefect and their trusty guide of how to get around the universe, they search for meaning and purpose, encountering a very depressing robot, the leader of the universe, and other assorted creatures and things. Mice, dolphins, and very smart robots all seem to have a better grip on things than we humans though they are equally incapable of using their wisdom to find peace and happiness. Despite the character's best efforts, the only meaning they succeed in finding is an apology from the management.

The book is fun in a meaningless kind of way. For those who read and enjoyed Asimov's Foundation series, the puns and satire in the Hitchhiker's Guide are subtle and accurate. The plot is incoherent, but the language is witty. The author uses every trick in the sci-fi playbook, which helps shed some light on the genre. I think Adams really understood that many people love fantasy because it allows us to escape from this incoherent reality. His gift was making that fantasy as bizarre as the world we live in.

Lords of Finance

2009-10-20T15:46:00.000-04:00

Lords of Finance: The Bankers who Broke the World by Liaquat Ahamed. New York: Penguin Press, 2009. 564 p., $32.95.

Ahamed has good timing. His book, "Lord of Finance" was being researched as the first shock waves of 2007 hit our contemporary economy, and was published before we know the full impact of the financial crisis. Yet, perhaps even without intending, the author provides a fascinating illumination of the current financial difficulties by examining the past.

The investment banker turned historian examines the Great Depression as seen through the eyes of central bankers in the US, UK, Germany, and France. Five men play the lead narrative role: Benjamin Strong, the head of the New York Fed, Montagu Norman, Governor of the Bank of England, Hjalmar Schact of the German Reichtbank, Emile Moreau of the French Central Bank, and John Maynard Keynes, the upstart British economist constantly on the sidelines. As the title implies, these men had significant powers granted them as the world struggled through the ups and downs of the early 1900s. Unfortunately, they failed to even bring a semblance of order and instead presided over the greatest economic catastrophe of modern history.

Consider this incredibly poignant thought from Montagu Norman in 1948: "As I look back, it now seems that, with all the thought and work and good intentions, which we provided, we achieved absolutely nothing...nothing that I did, and very little that old Ben did, internationally produced any good effect-or indeed any effect at all except that we collected money from a lot of poor devils and gave it over to the four winds (p. 489)."

Why the incredible failure? Ahamed starts the narrative in the early 1900s, charting the panic of 1907 and the disruptive economic impact of World War I. In the post-war world further, key figures failed to recognize the changed economic landscape. A dogmatic adherence to the gold standard, insistence on war reparations, debt obligations, and the lack of true leadership in the financial world ultimately led to a lack of faith in capitalism itself. Although Strong, Norman, Schact, and Moreau were brilliant men, they did not yet have the institutions or vision necessary to act as true lenders of last resort. The author in fact shows how the very concept of the modern central bank has only evolved and developed largely as a consequence of the failures in the early 1900s.

This comprehensive description of the Great Depression coupled with the lives of these financial powerbrokers is a captivating read. More importantly, it provides valuable lessons for overcoming the current economic malaise. Faith in financial markets is a fragile thing; cooperation and collaboration help, political grandstanding and ambiguity harm. And if the past is any guidance, now is not the time to declare victory and stop the aggressive intervention by the government and Federal Reserve.

My only complaint is that this book is about 300 pages too short. It is painfully clear that Ahamed had completed the narrative up to about 1933 when contemporary events caught up with him. The final years of the Great Depression therefore receive only a glancing discussion and the significant downturn in 1937 is barely mentioned at all. Although I understand that the book is focused on the major central bankers who in large part lost the levers of power during that time, I still sincerely hope for a sequel. There is more to be said on this subject and Ahamed has the narrative capacity to do so.

The Conscience of a Liberal

2009-10-13T12:30:00.002-04:00

The Conscience of a Liberal by Paul Krugman. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2007. 296 p., $25.95.

The word liberal is thrown about so much these days, it is difficult to get a firm grasp on its meaning. Paul Krugman does not beat around the bush however, though he certainly gives President Bush a good beating. Forgive the pun. In any case, this book is an unabashed declaration of liberal/progressive objectives in modern politics and a clear and concise discussion of modern economic and political ailments as seen from the left.

In looking at the past American century, Krugman sees a rise and fall of liberal economic thought. First, the Great Depression and resultant New Deal policies of FDR led to the "Great Compression," where progressive taxes, wage controls, and union strength ushered in an era of political and economic dominance by the American middle class. The blue collar worker of the 1950s was in control of his destiny and felt secure in his position in life; Republicans had no choice but to accept the dramatic social safety net created by the New Deal because it was so popular and appeared to be working so well. However, as "movement conservatives" slowly captured the Republican party in the 1970s and achieved political dominance with the rise of Reagan in the 1980s, inequality started to rise and with it the great bipartisanship and agreement on the modern welfare state. The great unraveling of economic progress for the middle class was a political feat promoted by the economic elite who enjoyed great gains in their relative standing in the country. For Krugman, modern America looks strikingly like the previous Gilden Age in the 1920s.

Why would a majority of Americans support the Republicans if they represented only the rights of the elite at the expense of the majority? Racism plays a key role for the author who describes the great switch of the south from staunchly Democratic to staunchly Republican. Since the modern welfare state assists minorities disproportionately, anti-welfare state policies are easily supported by racists. Disenfranchisement of immigrants and others on the receiving end of a welfare state is also to blame. To a lesser degree, the Republican strategy of tying moral, religious, and security issues to their banner has also rallied others to their cause even when it is not in their economic interests to do so.

For Krugman, the solution to such a concerted conservative movement is an equally concerted progressive agenda. Additional taxes levied on a more progressive scale, a rebirth of unions, and a united and strong liberal voice are all needed to promote an alternative agenda and create a New New Deal. Health care is the linchpin in such a strategy. America has seen what conservative do with government; now it is time to show how liberals can make America better.

As stated before, I really appreciate Krugman's candid assessment of what modern liberalism truly is. He is clear in his rhetoric and ideological positioning. Unfortunately, he is rather flippant in his handling of facts and data. To be fair, the book is written for a broad audience. But considering his impressive resume, I was hoping Krugman would be able to weave complicated economic principles into the rhetoric of the left. Instead, he offers some quick references, a few tables, and no rigorous examination of some of the legitimate concerns with a more liberal policy. For example, he only provides one page of lip service to each of the following issues that have dramatically changed our society in the past century: globalization, personal health behavior and its implications for health care costs, the oil shocks of the 1970s and stagflation, international trade, the fall of the Soviet Union, and the fiscal surplus of the 90s. In my mind these are all crucial elements of any story that seeks to describe the economic and political development of our country.

In fact, Krugman's casual use of numbers and selective use of studies is so egregious that I have no choice but to place this book in the same category as those on the right that use frightening rhetoric and misleading facts. It is a shame because I think his textbook on international trade and monetary policy is the best economics textbook I ever read (right next to Mankiw's) and his New York Times columns are great. Krugman has the potential to show how liberal policies are both economically and politically achievable; his Nobel prize and prolific contributions to economics are proof enough of that. But although I had hoped to say that Krugman's book embodied the basic economic argument of the left, but I cannot. I think there is certainly a stronger case to be made for social welfare principles and the progressive agenda than the one made here.

Democracy in America

2009-10-12T07:18:00.002-04:00

Democracy in America by Alexis de Tocqueville. Translated by Arthur Goldhammer. Washington D.C.: Library of America, 2004. 928 p., $28.10.

Upon returning to the United States two months ago, I decided to take a deeper look at the founding of our democratic institutions. And so, I started with Tocqueville's masterpiece, a two volume investigation into the social, political, and institutional foundations of America circa 1835. Drawing upon his extensive travels throughout the United States, Tocqueville describes the actual functioning of democracy in America to a European audience. He notes with approval the decentralizing aspects of the Constitution and grapples with the challenges of liberty in an age of equality. Tocqueville was particularly interested in America's passion for capitalism and its dominant role in regulating relationships, rather than castes and aristocratic privileges. Tocqueville's overall report is methodical, penetrating, and generally positive about the future of America. Although he approaches the subject with the rigor of a political scientist, the author invests himself in the implications of his work. The end result is one of the best analyses of early American democracy I have ever read.

This specific translation by Arthur Goldhammer is excellent. Translating French to English is always rather problemmatic but Goldhammer has done an excellent job of preserving the author's voice throughout while presenting the ideas clearly and without any archaic twists. I found myself constantly marking pages for later review and ultimately wrote down a number of my most favorite quotes.

As an outside observer, Tocqueville proceeds with his study like an anthropologist on an extensive case study. Such a tone is particularly alluring because the subject matter is my own cultural heritage. Why do Americans put so much emphasis on the individual? Why did I come from a village, in a township, in a county, in a state, in a country? Why is religion, independence, and equality so tied up in our institutions and cultural norms? I found that I could understand my own country better by looking through the perceptive eyes of Tocqueville.

To be sure, Tocqueville does not get everything right about the US. He was perhaps overly concerned with the seeming decline in 19th century puritan religion, the possibility of a violent black uprising in the South (it was after all a violent white uprising in the south that led to the Civil War), and the dangers of centralization. But what is most striking for me is how many things he did get right. Consider this observation of the two political parties of the time, the Republicans and Democrats: "The more deeply one enters into the intimate thoughts of these two parties, the clearer it becomes that one wants to limit the use of public power and the other to extend it" (p. 202). That is perhaps the clearest and most succinct description of modern parties that I have heard, and it was written 180 years ago. Other perspectives on federalism, the social implications of capitalism (Tocqueville effectively preempts Robert Putnam on the concept of social capital and its role in American society), and the US judicial system are also particularly prescient.

I highly recommend this book, though those pressed for time can safely skip the more abstract second volume. The volume is an impressive reminder of just how unique the American experiment is in the history of the world and is a valuable refresher course in the founding principles of American democracy.

The Post-American World

2009-09-15T17:47:00.001-04:00

The Post-American World by Fareed Zakaria. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc, 2007. 292 p., $25.95.

In this forecast of the 21st century, Zakaria argues that the American hegemony over the world order is declining, ushering in a new age of regional powers and requiring a new policy of multilateralism. Pointing to the economic rise of China and the growing strength of India, he argues that America must learn how to adjust peacefully and proactively as its relative power declines in the world.

But Zakaria is no Thomas Friedman in his literary and journalistic skill nor a David Calleo in his academic rigor. The result is a weak, diluted, and poorly timed declinist novel that blames all the usual suspects and suggests all the regular prescriptive action. I even double-checked the publishing date twice because the examples and references all seemed so out-dated. This could have been written in the early 1970s, or late 1980s or mid- 1990s with just a few changes. And perhaps worse of all, the title of the book is very misleading. Zakaria does not imply that America will fall behind the rest of the world, or even that America is failing, per se. He is simply suggesting that the world is moving towards a multipolar state with many important actors. Despite the title, Zakaria readily admits that no country will approach the US in terms of hard power for decades to come.

Zakaria is not necessarily wrong in his predictions of the future; he simply has poor arguments and weak evidence. And the financial crisis of 2007-2008 and the resulting shocks are hardly mentioned and undermine many of his arguments. I was also disappointed with Zakaria's understanding of basic economic principles, a crucial element of any future scenario. The book reads like an opinion piece in a local newspaper, full of sloppy numbers and examples.

I do believe that journalists can write good books. I am a big fan of Thomas Friedman and Martin Wolf for example. But this one gives the profession a black eye.

The Great Divorce

2009-09-13T16:44:00.003-04:00

The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis. New York: HarperCollins 2001 (orig. 1946). 146 p., $13.00

I decided to spend this calm Sunday afternoon reading one of my favorite books by C.S. Lewis. The experience was very rewarding and a good reminder of why I love Lewis so much. The Great Divorce is an analogy that looks at the eternal consequences of our choices. Much like The Screwtape Letters, the setting of this book provides a twist to traditional theology that enables the reader to better grasp abstract principles. Lewis accompanies a busload of people from hell on a field trip of sorts to the outskirts of heaven. The unfortunate souls are given a chance to stay in heaven if they so choose. But the author recounts how many of their vices, needs, and choices inhibit them from making the choice to stay in heaven. The majority return back to hell, content with their eternal allotment.

The genius of the book is how Lewis shows that agency remains supreme, even in the eternities. We choose to be happy, we choose heaven, we choose hell. The difference is not so much in our actions: great sinners on Earth will be found in Heaven. Rather, the difference between heaven and hell is our willingness to accept our fallibility. Humility and the willingness to accept "bleeding charity," as one of the characters phrases it, is the key. We have to choose to surrender agency to God. Lewis' guide in heaven states it succinctly:

"Never fear. There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to Gody, 'Thy will be done,' and those to whom God says, in the end, 'Thy will be done.' All that are in Hell, choose it. Without that self-choice there could be no Hell. No soul that seriously and constantly desires joy will ever miss it. Those who seek find. To those who knock it is opened."

The works of C.S. Lewis are accessible to all, regardless of sect or creed. With brilliant imagery and clear language, he uncovers the basic principles of Christianity and encourages self-introspection so that we may be better Christians. And he is humble in his encouragement, thereby putting his own words into practice.

The Two-Income Trap

2009-09-09T13:32:00.000-04:00

The Two Income Trap, Why Middle-Class Mothers and Fathers Are Going Broke by Elizabeth Warren and Amelia Warren Tyagi. New York: Basic Books, 2003. 255 p., $26.00

I first encountered this book upon hearing the news that Elizabeth Warren, a law professor at Harvard had been appointed to chair the congressional oversight panel for TARP. The article mentioned that Warren had previously written a book decrying the financial trap that two-income households had fallen into during the past four decades. Frankly, I was surprised since I assumed that all liberal Harvard professors hate the nuclear family and would do anything they can to promote working women in the home.

I am joking of course. Warren's analysis is in fact academic, concise, and important. Working with her daughter, Elizabeth Warren combed through national bankruptcy statistics to uncover some disturbing facts such as:

1) More children will live through their parents' bankruptcy than their parents' divorce this year.

2) Having a child is now the single best predictor that a woman will end up in financial collapse.

3) Adjusting for inflation, today's two-income family earns 75% more than a single-income family thirty years ago, yet has less discretionary income.

What is going on? Why are so many people going bankrupt at a time when more families are now living on two incomes?

The answer is a ferocious bidding war. Middle-class families are anxious to place their children in good schools in safe neighborhoods. Since every middle-class family wants the same thing, families are all simultaneously attempting to migrate to safe, suburban America, and more specifically within school districts that have a strong reputation. Home prices in such areas are increasing rapidly, yet families are willing to continue to pay since they value the education and safety of their children as the very definition of middle-class life. In order to finance this bidding war, mothers have entered the workforce to give the family the added competitive edge. But, if everyone else does the same thing, prices simply keep going up and families are left putting nearly all their paychecks towards large mortgage payments, with little money left for a rainy day.

In other words, the root cause of financially strapped America is its public education system. This logic goes against the traditional logic that American families are spending irresponsibly on toys and gadgets. But Warren demonstrates that families today are actually spending less on such things than they were thirty years ago, due to the relative decrease in prices. In fact, Americans are simply trying to hold onto the middle-class dream of a safe home and a good education for their kids.

Mom going to work was supposed to help in achieving this dream. Instead, by going to work just to support basic mortgage payments, mother working makes the family ends up less secure financially. The reason is that the family is operating on the presumption that the status quo will continue. If one parent loses his/her job or an injury or family-related emergency comes up, the decrease in income can be catestrophic. In previous decades, if Dad lost his job Mom could go to work to help offset some of the lost revenue. Today, with both parents in the workforce, there is no backup revenue to speak of. Bankruptcy is unfortunately all too often the only option left.

Warren's research highlights the inevitable unanticipated side effects of public policy decisions. In our current educational system, the only way families can choose a school is by moving. Demand for good schools leads to demand for the homes within that schoold district. The rising demand means rising prices. Ironically then, only those with money get a good education. This is clearly opposite to the intention of a free public education system. Warren is a strong advocate of education reform, such as a voucher program that would empower families to choose between schools without having to move to do so.

Some have pointed out that the authors fail to fully account for increases in taxes or the increase in health care costs in the past three decades. These alternative explanations may explain some of the financial straits of middle-class Americans. But I believe Warren (who wrote this book in 2003) is fully justified by the financial crisis of 2007-2008. It was the housing market that triggered the Great Fall, and many middle-class Americans are suffering just as Warren said. Now the Great Readjustment is taking place. Let's hope that educational reform is a major part of that.

The End of the West?

2009-09-01T11:45:00.000-04:00

The End of the West? Crisis and Change in the Atlantic Order by Jeffrey Anderson, G. John Ikenberry, and Thomas Risse (eds.) Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2008. 298 pp., $19.90

In this edited volume, Anderson, Ikenberry, and Risse direct a thorough examination of the health of the transatlantic political order following the trauma-filled crisis surrounding the Iraq War. Drawing on insights from twelve notable scholars from diverse academic fields, the book attempts to describe both the magnitude and source of the recent transatlantic rift. According to Ikenberry, the authors aim to provide “historical perspective, theoretical clarity, and empirical rigor” (p. 3) to the current public debate. The book succeeds admirably in two of its three objectives

Three of the contributors examine the rift within a historical narrative but come to very different conclusions. Henry Nau sees the Iraq crisis as a debate on strategy like other transatlantic disagreements during the Cold War. Charles Kupchan's extended historical perspective leads to the decidedly pessimistic conclusion that the transatlantic community has fundamentally eroded. William Hitchcock takes a middle stance suggesting that member states will preserve transatlantic institutions because the costs of ending the alliance are too high. Historical case studies in these chapters are a valuable reminder that the Atlantic Alliance has never been as stable as politicians or commentators are wont to describe it.

The theoretical clarity of the volume is refreshing. Ikenberry's introduction defines crisis as “an extraordinary moment when the existence and viability of the political order are called into question” (p. 12) and argues that the Iraq crisis will lead to the adaptation, transformation, or breakdown of the Atlantic alliance. Subsequent authors adhere to Ikenberry's framework of crisis analysis, enabling a tight-fitting narrative of the current state of the transatlantic alliance. Gunther Hellman's chapter examining existent literature further emphasizes the need for scholars to approach political change in the Atlantic community within a more explicit theoretical framework, such as is used in this book.

The most novel and, unfortunately, least compelling aspect of the book is an attempt to empirically examine transatlantic relations from the perspective of political economy. In his chapter Jens van Scherpenberg minimizes evidence of the strong economic interrelationship between the US and Europe and uses selective trade disputes to suggest that economic factors do little to mitigate transatlantic conflict. Kathleen McNamara offers a more nuanced perspective on the same theme, but again the supporting evidence is scant.

Risse’s conclusion does a good job of integrating this belated academic project into the context of the improved transatlantic environment present by 2007. Despite the book’s exaggerated title, none of the scholars anticipate a complete breakdown of the West, though Kupchan comes closest. The authors also do not address the transformational effects of continuing NATO expansion in Eastern Europe and beyond. Nevertheless, the general consensus is the Atlantic political order will undergo a significant transformation in coming years. Recent transatlantic disputes concerning economic coordination seem to confirm that the status quo is not sustainable. As the Iraq crisis fades and the emerging economic conflict between the US and Europe takes center stage, the theoretical framework offered in this book is a valuable starting point for additional research and debate on the evolving transatlantic relationship.

Fixing Global Finance

2009-09-01T11:32:00.000-04:00

Fixing Global Finance by Martin Wolf Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2008. 230 pp., $27.40

Amid the inevitable flood of current literature on financial crises and economic recessions, Martin Wolf’s book stands out. Written in the late summer of 2007, the book examines world economic imbalances at the very peak of liberal global finance. Drawing upon his experience gained from over two decades as the chief economics commentator for the Financial Times, the author’s description of the current macroeconomic situation is persuasive though his recommendations and prognosis of the future are meager.

Financial crises are a regular occurrence in the modern era of liberalized global finance. Developing countries with private capital inflows have been particularly hard hit since the 1970s. Although international capital financed periods of growth and investment in these countries, sudden stops due to violent swings in investor sentiment created untenable current account deficits and painful periods of deflation and IMF-directed adjustment. The Asian financial crisis in 1997-1998 is a particularly acute example of this financial volatility and the psychological scars that persist.

In the aftermath, Asian countries (especially China) resolved to prevent net capital inflows and thereby avoid risk-prone current account deficits and currency mismatches. Exchange rate stabilization policies prevented domestic currency appreciation in line with export competitiveness. The export-oriented policies required that governments accumulate large foreign reserves to offset the large inflows of private capital. The result is “emerging market economies smoke, but do not inhale in global capital markets” (p. 3). In a perverse twist, the world’s poorest countries are now loaning to the richest countries, especially the US.

Wolf disagrees with the claim that the United States is a profligate and irresponsible borrower suggesting instead that the US only became the world’s borrower and spender of last resort as excess savings flooded the world. The willingness of the US to absorb global savings by incurring large current account deficits and high levels of debt prevented a painful worldwide recession during the past decade. Wolf rightly notes that the United States could not continue forever in this stopgap role; indeed, the financial crisis attests to the moral dangers of easy money and unregulated financial markets. The great global readjustment is now underway.

The narrative to this point is convincing and reinforced by an impressive array of data. Unfortunately, the author fails to capitalize on this foundation to present a cogent framework for how to actually fix the global system. The thirty pages on domestic reform measures and sixteen pages on global reform seem insufficient to address such an important element of this book. His most interesting suggestions include strengthening bond markets in developing countries and retooling informal international groups to strengthen surveillance and crisis intervention measures, but there is regrettably little elaboration. It is perhaps not surprising that the past and immediate present are the focus of this book, given Wolf’s journalistic background. But lacking a more comprehensive prescription for the way forward, the book might be better titled, “Why Global Finance needs Fixing.”

Welcome to Z Reviews

2009-09-01T11:02:00.001-04:00

Welcome to my new blog, Z Reviews! Here I intend to review books I have recently read and ellicit suggestions for future books to read.

Having just moved back to the US, I have rediscovered my personal library as well as a public library system full of literature written in the English language. And I have dived back in. Lately, I have come across some excellent books that have caused me to think long and hard. While I enjoy discussing these books with my wife and friends, I find a desire to write what I have learned and delver deeper into the insights of what I have read. In the process, I hope to better retain what I read and be more articulate about what I have learned.

Of course, I also hope that this blog can be a venue for a discussion of literature for others too. If you have any books you would like me to read and review, let me know!

Finally, please note that the html for this site is znovels.blogspot.com. Of course I will review more than just novels, but zreviews was already taken.