Brad Warthen's Blog

DNC takes on Sanford

Thought y'all might be interested in this release, and the video above:

New DNC Ad Calls on Mark Sanford to Stop “Playing Politics” With South Carolina Jobs and Recovery Money

Click Here to See the DNC Ad “Playing Politics” Here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HqTkk9t4sec

 

Washington, DC – The Democratic National Committee today released a new television ad entitled “Playing Politics” that calls on South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford to stop playing politics with federal job creation and economic recovery funds.  The ad, which will begin airing in Columbia on Monday, outlines the deepening economic challenges facing South Carolina’s working families.  Despite record unemployment and soaring foreclosures, Governor Sanford is kowtowing to the Rush Limbaugh-led obstructionist wing of his political party by rejecting $700 million in money to create jobs, improve our health care system and improve our schools. 

 

As the ad notes, a bipartisan group of South Carolina leaders – including Democratic Congressman James Clyburn, Republican Lieutenant Governor Andre Bauer, and Republican State House Speaker Bobby Harrell – have criticized Governor Sanford for putting political posturing ahead of job creation in South Carolina.   The ad can be viewed here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HqTkk9t4sec

 

“Mark Sanford needs to stop playing politics with economic recovery and job creation in South Carolina,” said Democratic National Committee Communications Director Brad Woodhouse.  “At a time when his state is suffering from crippling unemployment and more and more families are losing their homes, South Carolina’s working families cannot afford for their governor to be distracted by empty political posturing.  If Mark Sanford is worried about his political future, all he needs to do is focus on working with leaders from both parties who want to use the economic recovery funds to help create jobs, fix our schools, reform our health care system, make America energy independent, and lay the foundation for long-term growth in the 21st Century.”

Here's a companion release, from the state Democratic Party:

SC Dems Applaud Sanford Ad

Columbia, SC- Governor Mark Sanford will be getting a little more airtime on South Carolina's cable  television networks next week, but the media attention won't necessarily be positive.

The Democratic National Committee announced today it will begin airing an ad criticizing Sanford for not accepting all of the funds allocated for South Carolina under the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act. The 30-second ad will begin airing on Monday on cable television in Columbia.

"South Carolina Democrats are very pleased with the Democratic National Committee's television ad," said South Carolina Democratic Party Chair Carol Fowler.  "It helps us give Mark Sanford the type of media attention he deserves. Over the last few months, our governor has shown us that he is more concerned with being in the national spotlight than with the well-being of South Carolina's working families. They deserve to have their voices heard and this ad will encourage them to tell Mark Sanford to stop playing politics."

Paid for by the South Carolina Democratic Party

Never mind maneuvers...

Just watched the end of a movie in which Lawrence Olivier was strutting about in Napoleonic-era admiral's uniform with one empty right sleeve, which could only mean he was portraying Lord Nelson. And there was Vivien Leigh talking about Lord Keith and St. Vincent and the rest, so I was hooked to the end of it. Saw a highly melodramatic rendering of Nelson's death at Trafalgar.

As you know, I'm a huge fan of the Aubrey-Maturin novels, and Lord Nelson was Jack Aubrey's hero. In the books, Jack is the one to whom Nelson said, "Never mind maneuvers, always go straight at 'em." In reality, he said that to Lord Cochrane, upon whom Aubrey is largely based.

Here's the kicker: After the movie, the guy who introduces the features on TCM said the movie was so chock-full of homilies about the importance of standing up to dictators that the director was summoned to Congress -- still gripped by isolationism -- where our lawmakers were investigating pro-war propaganda by Hollywood. He was scheduled to appear on Dec. 12, 1941, so he lucked out there. By his appearance date, isolationism was no longer quite the thing, you know.

Imagine that -- Hollywood being investigated for pro-war propaganda.

I'd better go to bed now.

I infiltrate the unemployment system

How dedicated am I to my craft? This dedicated: with the conflict between the governor and the Employment Security Commission being a burning issue in our state, I went and got myself laid off so I could go undercover and find out how the unemployment system in this state really works. I'm a regular Alec Leamas or something. That's my story anyway.

I learned an awful lot about it today -- so much that I'm too tired now to sort through it all; I'd be writing all night. But it will produce a lot of fodder for the blog in the coming days, I expect. For tonight, I'll just pass on this tidbit...

The State invited representatives from various agencies who provide unemployment services -- Employment Security, Commerce, and another program that I need to go back and clarify under which umbrella it falls -- out to the paper to get the 38 folks laid off started on filing for help in finding a job, retraining, and getting those checks the ESC processes if you don't find a job right away. (And believe me, those checks are so small that you don't want to be unemployed and dependent upon them for five seconds more than absolutely necessary; they're a tremendous motivation to find a job.)

I spent about three hours with these various folks, and took copious notes. And I want to say that they were all very helpful and knowledgeable and professional and encouraging, which really helped me learn a lot for only three hours spent.

But you should get a chuckle out of this part: Someone was explaining to us about WorkKeys. Do you know about those? Basically, you take a battery of aptitude tests, and you get scores on a range of skills, and employers tell the gummint they want X number of workers who have scored at least a 4 in each category, or whatever, and you get matched up.

The gummint administers the test for free, and will even help you get training to get a higher score where you're lacking. You get certified, I think he said, with a rating of Bronze, Silver, Gold or Platinum. (There aren't many platinums, he said.)

But here's the best part. He said, "You also get a certificate, signed by the governor, saying that you are work-ready."

Now see, if I'd known this yesterday when the governor called me, I could have saved myself the time it will take to take those tests. I could have pointed out that if anybody knows what I am capable of, it's the governor. He probably would have whipped me out a certificate of work-readiness on the spot. So I guess I missed my chance.

Have a heart, Mayor Bob

When I get home tonight I'm going to be in trouble with the lady who writes the checks at my house. She was already ticked that I got a parking ticket yesterday. One day I lose my job, the next I bring home a ticket. Her position is that it's not that hard to avoid them. I was determined not to get another.

So on the way into town, I stopped to get a dollar's worth of change at Food Lion. So I was set.

The following things happened:

• I parked a block and a half from the federal building, but fortunately there was 54 minutes left on the meter, which was great. Despite my misadventures, I got back in time.
• Then I went to get breakfast, and as I dug in my pocket for the four quarters, and it was empty. Yes, when I got my keys and phones and such out of the little tray after going through the metal detector at the federal building, I had left the quarters. So I ran in and ate and got back to my truck within 15 minutes, and no ticket. Good.
• I had a lunch appointment with Bob McAlister (who has written a column that is sort of about me, which we will run online tomorrow) at the Summit Club (where he is a member and I am not, so I was his guest). I started to leave the office with plenty of time to get there, but I got slowed down by friends wanting to wish me well on my way out of the building. I finally got to the truck, and realized I had no change. I went back into the building, got two dollars worth, and another friend offered best wishes.
• I parked in front of Trinity Cathedral. Figuring on an hour, I put in enough for an hour and twenty minutes (that is, a dollar), and ran to meet Bob.
• One hour and twenty-four minutes later, I got to my truck and had a ticket.

I'm not sure what I'm going to tell Mamanem about this. It's not like I can sneak this by her; she keeps the checkbook.

You know, Mayor Bob (and council), you might lighten up just a LITTLE in this awful economy. I'm trying to keep the meters fed, I really am. But I can only move so fast sometimes, and I can only spend so much of my life thinking about making sure to have change in my pocket. I spent WAY too much time on that today, and still failed to avoid the wrath of Lovely Rita.

Get a Social Security card NOW

I've spent much of today in a series of meetings learning about the various services that the S.C. Employment Security Commission and other state agencies offer to folks in my situation. Yesterday, when I made the appointments, I was told to bring my Social Security card.

Uh... I haven't had a Social Security card for about 35 years, since I was in college. I don't know what happened to it. (At first, I said 25 years, but my wife says I haven't had one as long as she's known me, and we've been married 34 years.)

And in all these years, this is the FIRST time anyone has asked to see it.

Oh, I've meant to get it replaced over the years -- at one point years ago, it occupied a "to do" list slot on my old Palm Pilot for more than a year before cleaned the list up and deleted it. I thought it might be important to have one at some time -- theoretically -- so I should get one someday. But it was very, VERY easy to put off. I downloaded the form once or twice, and even filled it out, but never got it down to the Strom Thurmond Bldg.

A few words about that form, which you can find here:

• The actual form is one page. But there are four pages of instructions preceding it.
• You can't fill it out electronically. You have to print it out, and fill it out by hand (with a blue or black pen), which to my mind is just a step or two removed from having to chisel it on a rock.
• Not all of the answers are immediately obvious -- to me, anyway. For instance, they want your full name at the top. Fine. Mine is Donald Bradley Warthen. Then, near the end, it wants you to state your name as it appeared on your old card. Well, I don't have the slightest idea, after all these years, whether that original card said my full name, or "Brad Warthen," or "Bradley Warthen," or "Donald B. Warthen," or "D. Bradley Warthen," or "D.B. Warthen," all of which I have used for various legal purposes in the past.

On that last point -- I asked the guy at the window at the Social Security office, and he said it was OK that I didn't fill it out. In any case, he was able to confirm that it was my full name. So I worried over that needlessly. But the thing is, I DO worry about things like that, which is why I really HATE filling out forms, especially if there is no one at hand to ask such questions of. And when there IS someone to ask questions of, I drive them crazy. Because I can always see way too many possible ways to fill out a form. That's how my mind works. When I'm writing a column, I see lots of ways that it could go, lots of possibilities for each word of it -- but then I just pick the ones I want. With a form, you have to pick the ones THEY want. What if I screw up? They might do something awful to me -- like make me fill out another form.

I did that blasted form three times. Once, I messed up and put my mother's married name instead of her maiden name. Then I filled out another copy, and did it fine, but left it at the office -- and I planned to go by the SS office on my way to work this morning. So I printed it out last night at home, and did it again.

Then, I started obsessing about my passport. Near as I could tell from the instructions, I didn't NEED that, since I'd had a card before. I just needed a photo ID. But what if I got an extra officious clerk? Wouldn't it be nice to have backup? I think I was feeling guilty about having let this go for 35 years, and I felt like they would make me pay for my laxness or something.

So I tore up the house last night looking for my passport, finally finding it at the very bottom of a box full of junk I had filled one time when cleaning out my briefcase and clearing my desk. It had a five-pound note in it (in case I ever took it to Britain). I wondered whether leaving the five quid in the passport my grease the skids when I presented it, but decided I'd better not.

When I got to the federal building this morning, my papers clutched in my hand, I emptied my pockets into a little tin plate before going through the metal detector. The guard looked at the itty-bitty Swiss Army knife on my keychain, and said "You can't bring that in here." I asked if I could leave it with him. He said no. I asked what was I supposed to do -- I had had to park a block and a half away. He said it didn't matter what I did, as long as I left it OUTSIDE the building. So I went outside, took the knife off, and stashed it under a concrete bench. Then I went back in, and in those few seconds, a line of four or five people had formed at the metal detector.

One of them was a homeless guy (I'm assuming here), who had to take off two layers of coats and other stuff, with a discussion about each layer, and then still set off the machine, and they had to use the wand on him.

So by the time it was my turn, I was ready. I put in my two cell phones, my weaponless keys, my belt I was told to take off, a pen, and four quarters I had for parking meters.

As I was stepping onto the elevator to go to the 11th floor, my Blackberry rang, and it was Nikki Setzler, calling to express his condolences and support. I warned him that he might be cut off in the elevator, just before he was cut off.

Finally, I got upstairs to the SS office on the 11th floor. As you walk in, a security guard tells you to turn off the ringer on your cell phone(s), and if you have to make a call to do it out in the hall, then explains how to take a number. I waited in a short line to get my number, got it, and went to find a seat at the back of the room.

Seeing that there were several customers ahead of me, I did what I ALWAYS do when I have to sit still for a moment. I took out my Blackberry to get some work done -- check e-mail, read this or other newspapers online, check my schedule for the day, etc. Trying to decide which was more urgent, it hit me that poor Nikki, my senator, had been cut off. So I called to apologize, and we talked for maybe 30 seconds, when the guard yelled across the room, "Sir! Sir! I told you no calls in here." I told Nikki I'd have to cut him off again, thanked him, hung up, and explained that I had misunderstood; I thought the problem was RINGING... then, as soon as I said that, I remembered the part about having to go into the hall if I needed to make a call.

I saw the sign saying no cell phones, and wondered why. Did it interfere with some delicate equipment, or did it just irritate someone? It's not like this was a restaurant or something (where I agree that phone talking is extremely rude). This was a busy waiting room. But I decided I was in enough trouble; no point asking "why."

So I started to check my e-mail, all the time wondering whether this would get me into trouble, too. And I glanced around my extremely institutional surroundings -- saw the homeless guy and the other citizens, looked at the multiple windows and saw the electronic display with our numbers, heard the loudspeaker summoning the next number in harsh tones, and for some reason thought of the film version of 1984, with John Hurt and Richard Burton. I watched a big chunk of it one night recently online at Netflix. And I began to mutter inwardly to myself, "I love Big Brother. I love Big Brother..." Just to get my mind right, you know.

Then my number was called, and a very nice guy was helpful and assured me that I had filled it out fine. It was even OK that I had started to put my mother's maiden name AGAIN and scratched it out and corrected it. We talked a bit about music -- he's really into it. And when he found out where I worked, he told me he had been trying to find something in old newspapers about a concert Led Zeppelin did in Tampa back in 1977. I offered to see what I could find for him, although urged him not to be too optimistic, since that was way before newspaper databases went online. He gave me his address. (And no, I wasn't currying favor with Big Brother; I do this kind of thing all the time. Over the weekend, my Dad and I played golf with a guy who flew jets in the Navy over Vietnam, who was asking my Dad if he knew how he could look up information on a guy he flew with who he thinks later went MIA. I interrupted to ask, "What's his name?" He told me, and I found a bunch of stuff about him -- a Medal of Honor winner, by the way -- on my Blackberry while we waited to tee off. I later e-mailed it all to him. I like doing stuff like that for people, and in this case it was truly an honor.)

Finally, my card was ordered. It'll take two weeks. In the meantime, the nice guy gave me an official document to prove my Social Security legitimacy, which came in handy later in the day.

Yes, there is a point to this story: If you've lost your Social Security card, go ahead and get it replaced. Don't wait until you need it. You don't want all that hassle at that time, no matter how much you love Big Brother.

Good job rejecting the tuition caps

This might sound strange coming from a guy who was already counting pennies (or quarters, anyway -- I miscounted how many I had this morning in my truck, and ended up with a parking ticket because I didn't have enough for the meter), with my two youngest daughters still in college. And now I'm about to be unemployed.

But I'm glad the House rejected tuition caps at S.C. colleges and universities. I have an anecdote to share about that.

Remember the recent day when college students wandered the State House lobbying lawmakers on behalf of their institutions. They wanted the state to invest in higher education the way North Carolina and Georgia have. Either that day, or the day after, I had lunch with Clemson President James Barker, and he told me an anecdote he had witnessed: He said the students were pressing a lawmaker NOT to support the tuition caps, because they were worried about their institutions being even more underfunded -- they hardly get anything from the state -- some are down below 20 percent funding by the state, and the rest has to come from such sources as tuition, federal research grants and private gifts. Eliminate the ability to raise tuition, and the institution's ability to provide an excellent education is significantly curtailed. If we want lower tuitions, the state should go back to funding higher percentages of the schools' budgets, the way our neighboring states with better higher ed systems do.

The lawmaker listened to the kids, and then said with great condescension, maybe you kids don't care if tuition goes up, but I'll bet your parents would like a cap. He thought he had them there, but the kids set him straight: None of their parents were paying the bills. These kids were working their way through schools and paying for it all themselves. And they didn't want to see the quality of what they were working so hard to pay for be degraded by an artificial cap on tuition. The lawmaker had not counted on getting that answer.

I wish I had been there to see it, because I've been in a similar place before. Back in 95 or 96, Speaker Wilkins had brought his committee chairs to see us, and I started challenging the wisdom of their massive rollback of property taxes paid for school.One of them allowed as how he bet I was glad to get that couple of hundred dollars I didn't have to pay. And I answered him that I was ashamed that I was paying so little through my property tax to support schools that I knew needed more resources. He said smugly that he was sure I wouldn't want to give it back. I told him I didn't see as how there was any channel for doing that, but if he could point me to the right person who would take my money and see it gets to the right place, I would pay the difference. He didn't have a good answer for that.

It would be great if our lawmakers would stop assuming that all of us in South Carolina are so greedily shortsighted that we can't see past our personal desire to pay less money, and that we are corruptible by a scheme to starve colleges of reasonable support.

Can you believe this guy? (I mean that in a NICE way)

Sorry not to have posted today. Aside from doing the work I usually do to get the opinion pages out, I'm dealing with a lot of e-mails and phone calls related to my personal and professional news -- mostly very kind and thoughtful (although not quite all -- hey, you know my public).

When I came in this morning, I was going to write something about our governor's latest, which is pretty wild and crazy and outrageous. I decided the headline was going to be, "Can you believe this guy?" I was going to say, he only wants the stimulus on his terms? Oh, yeah, it's all about him, all right, yadda-yadda...

But before I could write it, I got a call from the governor himself, in which he was very kind and gracious -- which actually didn't surprise me a bit. On a personal level, I think he's a fine person, even though I wish he weren't our governor. Can you follow that (because a lot of people have trouble with it)? I said so here on the blog back when we endorsed his opponent in 2006:

If we went on the basis of who we like, I'd probably have gone with Sanford. I know him, and I personally like him. I really have to force myself to look at what he's doing (and not doing) as governor and shove aside the fact that I like the guy.

I mean, I was kidding around a little when I said I was willing to put my life in his hands back here, but I was also being serious. The fact is that on a personal level he is a fine gentleman. Hand in hand with the fact that he places WAY too much faith in the private sector is the fact that in his private LIFE I see him as a good father and husband and so forth.

Anyway, he was very gracious in saying this morning that while we have had our differences, he had a certain respect for me and my colleagues, and he went on to pay us a compliment that you might find curious, but which I appreciated.

He cited the Teddy Roosevelt saying that "The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena." Now, if I stopped there, you would think he actually meant to malign me and aggrandize himself, because here is the context of that portion of the speech TR delivered at the Sorbonne in 1910:

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

As you can see, it would be easy to cast me and those like me as the "critic," and the governor as the man in the arena.

But his purpose in saying that was to say that he sees me -- and my colleagues on this editorial board -- as also being in the arena, as among those who take risks, who strive valiantly, "who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause." I thought that was very generous of the governor, and perceptive, too -- in that it's smart of him to know that I would LIKE to be described that way.

When I was 22 years old and starting out in this business, I wouldn't have wanted a politician to suggest I was in the arena. I was filled with all that J-school stuff about detachment and objectivity, and would rather have been cast as the critic. But along the way, I started to CARE about what happened to my community, my state, my country, the world -- which ruined me as the kind of journalist I once aspired to be, but which I truly hope made me more useful to society. I have worked hard with that goal in mind -- that of being useful, of trying to make a difference.

And I truly appreciate the governor recognizing that, and taking the time to tell me.

So, can you believe this guy? Only in this case, I mean that in a nice way.

The news about me (among others)

Well, as you can see, I am in the news today. In the morning you'll see a further message about me and about the editorial department from our president and publisher, Henry Haitz (I'll link when it's available). In case you missed the news, here’s the short version: I’ll be leaving the newspaper after next week, as my position has been eliminated in this company’s quest for deep expense cuts.

I’m not sure what else to tell you, or how valuable such commentary from me would be. As y’all know, I’ve tried to keep y’all in the loop about the profound changes going on in this business, which have been accelerating in recent days. I’ve written about everything from the departure of my longtime friend and colleague Mike Fitts last year, to the really horrific news sweeping the industry in recent weeks, with some newspapers going under entirely.

This has not a comfortable thing for me to do. For one thing – I always wonder how much my readers will care. Someone I respected in college – actually, he taught a course in editorial writing that I took – warned us that when one talks about one’s own industry, one runs the risk of boring one’s audience.

For another reason, I recognize my own lack of detachment in writing about a subject that concerns me so directly. I’ve tried to be completely candid, but I have to wonder how successful I’ve been. Finally, there is such a delicate balance to strike between telling all that I know or imagine I know, which is my instinct as a journalist, and respecting the confidentiality of things I know only because I’m an officer of this company – which gives me both an unfair advantage and a responsibility to those I work with. It can be awkward.

Anyway, in spite of that, I’ve tried to keep y’all up-to-date. Last week, however, I did NOT share with you the fact that my colleague Denny Clements, the editorial page editor of the Myrtle Beach Sun News, was losing his position. I just felt too close to it to address it properly. I’ve known Denney since I was the news editor of the paper in Wichita, and he was an editorial writer there. And while he and I have not been personally close in the intervening years, I wasn’t comfortable getting into that. Besides, it would have raised the natural question of what the implications were for this newspaper, and I just didn’t know enough about that to tell you anything, so I waited until now to mention it. Here’s how Denney told his readers about it.

Now, as you can see, Denney’s situation was VERY close to my own. My last day is March 20.

I leave here with a deep love for this newspaper, which I hope has been evident over the last couple of decades. It seems to have been evident to Henry, by the kind and gracious things he had to say about my service in his note on tomorrow’s page. And I appreciate that.

What will I do next? I don’t know. Perhaps I should post my resume here, and see what happens.

I can tell you this much – I have zero intention of “relocating.” When I came to the state of my birth in 1987 after years in this business in Tennessee and Kansas, I did so with the intention of staying for good. My days as a newspaper vagabond were over. Either things worked out at The State, or I would find some other line of work. And the thing is, things worked out very well. The day I was interviewed here (for the job of governmental affair editor) I told Tom McLean that my ultimate goal was to become editorial page editor. I believed that position offered the greatest opportunity to serve my state, which I believed needed its largest newspaper to have a strong, frank, lively editorial page. I got my chance 10 years later, and I could not be more proud of the team I have had the privilege of working with, or the excellent job they have done – and which those who remain will continue to do, if I know them (and I do).

Obviously, this is a stressful time, but beneath it all is something that I don’t quite know how to describe, a sort of anticipation driven by curiosity. I wonder, with great interest, what will happen next. (That sounds either terribly trite or unintelligible; I can’t tell which, but I explained it as well as I could.)

Anyway, that’s all I have to say about this today. Maybe I’ll say more some other day. Oh, and if you wonder about the future of the blog, or whether it has one – I don’t know. That’s one of a lot of things that need to be figured out.

Stem cells and the Kulturkampf see-saw

Here's a place for those of you who are so inclined to comment on the Obama administration's new policy on stem cells. That is to say, the latest tilt in the Kulturkampf see-saw. Republicans get in charge, it tilts one way. Democrats get in charge, it tilts the other. And so it continues, even in the "post-partisan" era.

I don't know what to say about it myself because ... I don't know; I guess I haven't thought about it enough or something. The partisans seem REALLY sure of their sides, and personally, I don't know how they can be. But maybe it's something missing in me.

I suppose I was relatively comfortable with the Bush position because, near as I could tell, it was a compromise. But then, if I'm reading correctly, the Obama position is ALSO to some extent a compromise, because some restrictions will remain. And yet it is touted as a total reversal, which perhaps it is. I find it confusing.

It's not something we have a position on as an editorial board, because on these culture war things we are often genuinely conflicted. Many editorial boards are quick to sound off on these things because they are more ideologically homogeneous than we are. For us, it's not so simple, and we generally prefer to use up our political capital with each other struggling over the very difficult issues facing South Carolina, which are tough enough.

Anyway, if you read the editorials of most newspapers on the subject, you might think that there is no controversy at all, that the Obama position is of course the right and true one, and you need to be awfully backward to think otherwise -- nothing short of a triumph of science over the forces of darkness. Some examples:

• The New York Times: "We welcome President Obama’s decision to lift the Bush administration’s restrictions on federal financing for embryonic stem cell research. His move ends a long, bleak period in which the moral objections of religious conservatives were allowed to constrain the progress of a medically important science."
• The Boston Globe: "We applaud President Obama's executive order reversing the ban on federal stem-cell research, and the return of science unhobbled by political or religious considerations." (Actually, that quote is not from the editorial itself, but from the blurb summarizing it online.)
• The Philadelphia Inquirer: "Americans are understandably divided over President Obama's decision to lift restrictions on federal funding of human embryonic stem-cell research. But he took the course that promises the greater medical benefit. In reversing a funding ban imposed by President Bush, Obama yesterday also took a welcome step toward restoring the rightful place of scientific research in guiding public policy."
• St. Louis Post-Dispatch: "Federal funding is no guarantee that embryonic stem cell research will provide hoped-for cures to dreaded diseases like diabetes, let alone guarantee that any cures might come soon. But the executive order that Mr. Obama signed on Monday will clear away bureaucratic and procedural hurdles that have hampered that research. It provides an important new source of funding. Perhaps most important, it signals a new commitment to science ideals, free inquiry and open debate in American public policy."

The relatively "conservative" Chicago Tribune was more muted in its praise and even-handed in its presentation, but nevertheless expressed approval for the Obama move, saying the Bush policy had been too restrictive:

Sensible barriers to federal funding for cloning and the creation of embryos for research purposes remain in place. On Monday, Obama asked lawmakers to provide the support that will put the country at the forefront of vital stem cell research. It's now up to Congress to get behind the scientists. All Obama did was get out of their way.

And The Wall Street Journal? No editorial. But they did run an op-ed piece criticizing the new policy, headlined, "The President Politicizes Stem-Cell Research," with the subhead, "Taxpayers have a right to be left out of it."

That last point is one that one doesn't see emphasized enough, which is that this is not about whether research is allowed, but whether we the taxpayers will pay for it. And that's a legitimate conversation to have.

Another point that I would appreciate being updated on, and that seems to get ignored in the shouting matches, is the idea that the science has made the political argument moot, in terms of moving beyond the need for embryonic cells. That was the point made in this Krauthammer column a while back:

    A decade ago, Thomson was the first to isolate human embryonic stem cells. Last week, he (and Japan's Shinya Yamanaka) announced one of the great scientific breakthroughs since the discovery of DNA: an embryo-free way to produce genetically matched stem cells.
    Even a scientist who cares not a whit about the morality of embryo destruction will adopt this technique because it is so simple and powerful. The embryonic stem cell debate is over.

Was that wishful thinking on Krauthammer's part? Did that turn out to be a dead-end? Maybe some of you who follow the issue more closely than I do can point to something I should read to that effect.

Anyway, I'll be interested to see what Krauthammer says about it, if he addresses it. He has an interesting perspective for someone wearing the "conservative" stamp. First, to my knowledge he's not anti-abortion. Also, he is a physician by training, and he served on the Bush administration's Council on Bioethics, which HE maintains (and I'm sure some of you will disagree, although I just don't know) was...

... one of the most ideologically balanced bioethics commissions in the history of this country. It consisted of scientists, ethicists, theologians, philosophers, physicians -- and others (James Q. Wilson, Francis Fukuyama and me among them) of a secular bent not committed to one school or the other.

Anyway, that ought to be enough fodder to get y'all started, if you want to discuss this.

Accountability, USMC style

Peggy Noonan had an excellent column Saturday that I hope you can read (since I'm a subscriber, it's hard for me to tell whether the links I post to the WSJ are subscriber-only or not).

It's about how the U.S. Marine Corps dealt with its own culpability in a tragic plane crash that killed civilians on the ground back in December.

Ms. Noonan's point was to contrast the way the Corps owned up and held its own folks accountable, contrasted to the finger-pointing and blame-shifting that we are used to seeing inside the Beltway, and in the corporate world.

I read it shortly after finishing my Sunday column, in which I decried the tawdry Beltway obsession with the partisan spin-cycle topic of the day, so the contrast was particularly marked in my mind.

Hope you can read the whole thing. At the very least, though, here's an excerpt:

    This wasn't damage control, it was taking honest responsibility. And as such, in any modern American institution, it was stunning.
    The day after the report I heard from a young Naval aviator in predeployment training north of San Diego. He flies a Super Hornet, sister ship to the plane that went down. He said the Marine investigation "kept me up last night" because of how it contrasted with "the buck-passing we see" in the government and on Wall Street. He and his squadron were in range of San Diego television stations when they carried the report's conclusions live. He'd never seen "our entire wardroom crowded around a television" before. They watched "with bated breath." At the end they were impressed with the public nature of the criticism, and its candor: "There are still elements within the government that take personal responsibility seriously." He found himself wondering if the Marines had been "too hard on themselves." "But they are, after all, Marines."