Psst, Angela. It's time to listen to Carly Rae Jepsen on the euro crisis. She's a savant about it.
(Reuters/Kasia Cieplak-von Baldegg)
Hey, she's a popstar, and this is crazy, but is Carly Rae Jepsen a euro crisis genius, maybe?
I know, I know. The only thing more maddening than "Call Me Maybe" is the euro crisis. One is a banal string of saccharine statements, punctuated by swift choruses of action. The other is a pop song. And neither willgoaway.
But the lyrical stylings of Carly Rae Jepsen just might be a Rosetta Stone for the euro crisis. And you don't even have to play the record backwards to get the secret message.
First, let's make sure we'll all on equal footing. I'm jealous of the lucky few still unfamiliar with the earworm that is "Call Me Maybe." But I'm also spiteful. So here's the music video. You're welcome.
What a euro crisis savant. If it's still not obvious what macroeconomic wisdom she's distilling in these sugary beats, here are the eight lines from "Call Me Maybe" that best explain the euro crisis. Why eight? Because Carly Rae Jespen works in mysterious ways.
"I threw a wish in the well, don't ask me I'll never tell."
Europe had a dream. That dream was itself. It was of an integrated continent, of a United States of Europe. How it would get there? Nobody was ready to tell the full story.
There was an underlying logic to integration -- a logic that George Soros has pointed out is now broken. That logic was that Europe would use any crisis of integration to push integration further. But that process went into reverse in the fall of 2008. German chancellor Angela Merkel declared that each euro zone country was on its own when it came to bailing out its banks -- driving a stake through the heart of the common currency.
Now Europe faces a catch-22. The only way to save the euro is for Germany to agree to some kind of joint debt. But Germany doesn't want to give southern Europe money without getting a say over how that money is spent. And southern Europe doesn't want to give Germany a say over how it spends money -- unless it's for a genuine fiscal union. So round and round we go.
"I trade my soul for a wish, pennies and dimes for a kiss."
Southern Europe has traded budget cuts and labor market reforms for money. Some of that money has come from Germany. Some of it has come from the ECB.
This makes less sense than you think. The ECB is only supposed to have one job. That's maintaining price stability, defined as 2 percent annual inflation. But the ECB has unofficially abandoned this single mandate. No, it doesn't care about jobs! It cares about politics. Specifically, whether countries are doing what Germany has demanded. This is crazy, definitely.
Countries that pass the ECB's test get lower borrowing costs. Countries that don't, well, don't. Actually, that's not always true. Even countries that play nice aren't always rewarded. Ask Spain. Meanwhile, the economy is screaming for the ECB to do something, anything more.
"I wasn't looking for this, but now you're in my way."
Both Carly Rae Jepsen and history have well-developed senses of irony. The second Ms. Jepsen stops looking for love, she finds it -- only to belatedly discover that her crush isn't interested in the ladies. Meanwhile, the one time Germany didn't try to take over Europe, the continent landed in its lap.
This historical twist hasn't escaped George Soros. He sees the euro zone turning into a German feudal state. Creditors make the rules in a debt crisis. But remember: Germany didn't want this. That's why they've been so reluctant to do what needs to be done. The danger is that they'll wait too long -- that a political backlash in southern Europe will develop before Germany is ready to accede to eurobonds. Then the euro would die a chaotic death.
"It's hard to look right at you, baby."
Is there any doubt Carly Rae Jepsen is really talking about Spanish bank balance sheets here? Spain was Europe's Florida. It had a huge housing bubble. Then it had a huge housing bust -- but not enough of one. They've been much slower to admit how far housing prices need to fall. That's allowed banks to keep holding assets at waaaay overinflated values -- until recently. Now the game of pretend is ending and the game of bailouts is beginning. Ugly stuff. Look away.
"You took your time with the call, I took no time with the fall, you gave me nothing at all."
You won't find a more plaintive lament for Europe's periphery than this. During the boom years, capital poured into southern Europe. But then Lehman failed, the money spigot turned off, and southern Europe fell. Germany hasn't exactly rushed to bail them out.
Actually, it's a bit misleading to call them "bailouts". They're loans. Low-interest rate loans, but loans nonetheless. And loans that are often senior to other debt. That makes private investors wary about putting more capital on the line, because they're first in line for the inevitable losses. It's increased their debt, and made that debt riskier. In other words, they've basically gotten nothing at all.
"I beg and borrow and steal."
Sometimes even the cryptic Carly Rae Jepsen speaks plainly. This is one of those times. The line above is clearly about Greece.
For years, the government lied about the size of its budget deficits -- with some help from Goldman Sachs -- until reality finally intruded in 2009. That's when the begging and borrowing began in earnest.
Now Greece may find out if beggars really can't be choosers. The far-left Syriza party is neck-and-neck in the polls thanks to its platform to renegotiate Greece's bailout loans while remaining in the euro zone. Their calculus is that beggars with a trillion euros of leverage can indeed be choosers. It's a dangerous game of chicken, with the future of the euro potentially hanging in the balance.
"I didn't know I would feel it, but it's in my way."
Poor Italy. It's actually been responsible since the euro was introduced Italy has managed to stabilize its debt and move towards a primary surplus -- meaning that it's in the black minus interest payments -- despite its stagnating economy. And Italy did all that with Silvio Berlusconi as its prime minister. That deserves some sort of prize. But instead of a prize, Italy has gotten euro contagion. With Spain on the ropes, Italy is next.
"Before you came into my life I missed you so bad."
Ms. Jepsen isn't quite as paradoxical as she sounds. It's easy to miss something before it comes into your life -- if it leaves and then returns. Like Spain's peseta. Or Italy's lira.
The euro should be a real four-letter word nowadays. It prevents troubled countries from printing or borrowing money at the most inopportune time. And it makes them solve their uncompetitiveness problems in the most painful way possible: with wage cuts. Instead of devaluing the peseta, Spain has to force workers to take pay cuts in euros. That's an economic disaster. It makes both debt problems and unemployment worse.
The peseta is sounding better and better.
See, "Call Me Maybe" is really a deep meditation on the nature and ironies of the euro crisis. So here's a modest proposal. Let's lock up Angela Merkel et. al. in a room playing "Call Me Maybe" on repeat. They can't leave until they absorb Ms. Jepsen's insight and reach some of kind of deal. Or go crazy.
Delegates in Cleveland answer a nightmare question: Would they take four more years of Barack Obama over a Hillary Clinton presidency?
CLEVELAND—It was a question no Republican here wanted to contemplate.
The query alone elicited winces, scoffs, and more than a couple threats of suicide. “I would choose to shoot myself,” one delegate from Texas replied. “You want cancer or a heart attack?” cracked another from North Carolina.
Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama have each been objects of near histrionic derision from Republicans for years (decades in Clinton’s case), but never more so than during the four days of the GOP’s national convention. Republicans onstage at Quicken Loans Arena and in the dozens of accompanying events have accused President Obama of literally destroying the country in his eight years in the White House. Speakers and delegates subjected Clinton to even harsher rhetoric, charging her with complicity in death and mayhem and then repeatedly chanting, “Lock her up!” from the convention floor.
Biology textbooks tell us that lichens are alliances between two organisms—a fungus and an alga. They are wrong.
In 1995, if you had told Toby Spribille that he’d eventually overthrow a scientific idea that’s been the stuff of textbooks for 150 years, he would have laughed at you. Back then, his life seemed constrained to a very different path. He was raised in a Montana trailer park, and home-schooled by what he now describes as a “fundamentalist cult.” At a young age, he fell in love with science, but had no way of feeding that love. He longed to break away from his roots and get a proper education.
At 19, he got a job at a local forestry service. Within a few years, he had earned enough to leave home. His meager savings and non-existent grades meant that no American university would take him, so Spribille looked to Europe.
It’s known as a modern-day hub of progressivism, but its past is one of exclusion.
PORTLAND, Ore.— Victor Pierce has worked on the assembly line of a Daimler Trucks North America plant here since 1994. But he says that in recent years he’s experienced things that seem straight out of another time. White co-workers have challenged him to fights, mounted “hangman’s nooses” around the factory, referred to him as “boy” on a daily basis, sabotaged his work station by hiding his tools, carved swastikas in the bathroom, and written the word “nigger” on walls in the factory, according to allegations filed in a complaint to the Multnomah County Circuit Court in February of 2015.
Pierce is one of six African Americans working in the Portland plant whom the lawyer Mark Morrell is representing in a series of lawsuits against Daimler Trucks North America. The cases have been combined and a trial is scheduled for January of 2017.
Why Millennials aren’t buying cars or houses, and what that means for the economy
In 2009, Ford brought its new supermini, the Fiesta, over from Europe in a brave attempt to attract the attention of young Americans. It passed out 100 of the cars to influential bloggers for a free six-month test-drive, with just one condition: document your experience online, whether you love the Fiesta or hate it.
Young bloggers loved the car. Young drivers? Not so much. After a brief burst of excitement, in which Ford sold more than 90,000 units over 18 months, Fiesta sales plummeted. As of April 2012, they were down 30 percent from 2011.
Don’t blame Ford. The company is trying to solve a puzzle that’s bewildering every automaker in America: How do you sell cars to Millennials (a k a Generation Y)? The fact is, today’s young people simply don’t drive like their predecessors did. In 2010, adults between the ages of 21 and 34 bought just 27 percent of all new vehicles sold in America, down from the peak of 38 percent in 1985. Miles driven are down, too. Even the proportion of teenagers with a license fell, by 28 percent, between 1998 and 2008.
Fractured by internal conflict and foreign intervention for centuries, Afghanistan made several tentative steps toward modernization in the mid-20th century. In the 1950s and 1960s, some of the biggest strides were made toward a more liberal and westernized lifestyle, while trying to maintain a respect for more conservative factions. Though officially a neutral nation, Afghanistan was courted and influenced by the U.S. and Soviet Union during the Cold War, accepting Soviet machinery and weapons, and U.S. financial aid. This time was a brief, relatively peaceful era, when modern buildings were constructed in Kabul alongside older traditional mud structures, when burqas became optional for a time, and the country appeared to be on a path toward a more open, prosperous society. Progress was halted in the 1970s, as a series of bloody coups, invasions, and civil wars began, continuing to this day, reversing almost all of the steps toward modernization taken in the 50s and 60s. Keep in mind, when looking at these images, that the average life expectancy for Afghans born in 1960 was 31, so the vast majority of those pictured have likely passed on since.
Narcissism, disagreeableness, grandiosity—a psychologist investigates how Trump’s extraordinary personality might shape his possible presidency.
In 2006, Donald Trump made plans to purchase the Menie Estate, near Aberdeen, Scotland, aiming to convert the dunes and grassland into a luxury golf resort. He and the estate’s owner, Tom Griffin, sat down to discuss the transaction at the Cock & Bull restaurant. Griffin recalls that Trump was a hard-nosed negotiator, reluctant to give in on even the tiniest details. But, as Michael D’Antonio writes in his recent biography of Trump, Never Enough, Griffin’s most vivid recollection of the evening pertains to the theatrics. It was as if the golden-haired guest sitting across the table were an actor playing a part on the London stage.
“It was Donald Trump playing Donald Trump,” Griffin observed. There was something unreal about it.
Taking over Stephen Colbert’s Late Show to blast Fox News, the former ‘Daily Show’ host was unapologetically partisan while also seeking to build bridges.
There are so many things that make this election season one without precedent. Why, then, has a faction of late-night punditworld responded with a reversion? Earlier this week, Stephen Colbert resurrected his satirical “Stephen Colbert” character, and then, last night, he invited the retired Jon Stewart to take over his Late Night desk for a classic 10-minute Daily Show rant. The biggest shock: The routines have felt vital and fresh, not mere nostalgia bait or retreads.
The reason for the throwback to golden-years Comedy Central fake news probably lies in politics itself. Stewart’s and Colbert’s original heydays were during the George W. Bush era; their entire personas are based not on indiscriminately satirizing the entire world’s absurdities but rather the particular absurdities of America’s right wing. Under Obama, that meant a certain amount of punching down. Donald Trump’s Republican National Convention, though, offered an even more unvarnished display of popular conservative thinking, attitudes, opinions, and bluster to hold America’s attention than, well, the last RNC. Colbert’s retitled program this week conveyed his glee at the prospect: “The 2016 Trumpublican Donational Conventrump Starring Donald Trump as the Republican Party* *May Contain Traces of Republican.” (His comparatively deflated DNC title: “The 2016 Democratic National Convincing, A Technically Historic Event: Death. Taxes. Hillary.”)
This week, the co-author of Donald Trump’s autobiography said in The New Yorker that if he were writing The Art of the Deal today, it would be a very different book with a very different title: The Sociopath.
To title a person’s life story with that label is a serious accusation, and one worth considering. The stakes are high. Tony Schwartz, the writer of the best-selling book, said that he “genuinely believe[s] that if Trump wins and gets the nuclear codes, there is an excellent possibility it will lead to the end of civilization.” In that light, Schwartz said he feels “deep remorse” at having “put lipstick on a pig.”
That seemed to me to be something of a contradiction to the charge of sociopathy, as pigs have been found to show signs of empathy. If you call a pig by name, it will come and play with you, reciprocating affection like a dog. So which is it, pig or sociopath?
Only one nation averages more than 2 cups of coffee per day. It's the Netherlands.
America might be famous for running on coffee, but it doesn’t run on much. Not compared to a handful of other countries, anyway. When it comes to actual coffee consumption per person, the US doesn’t even crack the top 15.
For much of Europe, and especially Scandinavia, the story is quite different. In a review in 2010 about Stieg Larsson’s hit Swedish trilogy, the New York Times wrote incredulously about how the books’ scenes seemed to always revolve around endless servings of coffee:
"…everyone works fervidly into the night and swills tons of coffee; hardly a page goes by without someone “switching on the coffee machine,” ordering “coffee and a sandwich” or responding affirmatively to the offer 'Coffee?'"
The standard conception of the disorder is based on studies of "hyperactive young white boys." For females, it comes on later, and has different symptoms.
When you live in total squalor—cookies in your pants drawer, pants in your cookies drawer, and nickels, dresses, old New Yorkers, and apple seeds in your bed—it’s hard to know where to look when you lose your keys. The other day, after two weeks of fruitless searching, I found my keys in the refrigerator on top of the roasted garlic hummus. I can’t say I was surprised. I was surprised when my psychiatrist diagnosed me with ADHD two years ago, when I was a junior at Yale.
In editorials and in waiting rooms, concerns of too-liberal diagnoses and over-medication dominate our discussions of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, or ADHD. The New York Timesrecently reported, with great alarm, the findings of a new Centers for Disease Control and Prevention study: 11 percent of school-age children have received an ADHD diagnosis, a 16 percent increase since 2007. And rising diagnoses mean rising treatments—drugs like Adderall and Ritalin are more accessible than ever, whether prescribed by a physician or purchased in a library. The consequences of misuse and abuse of these drugs are dangerous, sometimes fatal.