Greek Prime Minister George Papandreou hasn't exactly saved Europe, but could anyone have done much better?
Papandreou delivers a speech to the Panhellenic Socialist Movement parliamentary group in Athens / Reuters
This has not been Greek Prime Minister George Papandreou's best week. First he surprised a bunch of people -- including fellow European leaders who were bailing his country out -- by announcing a referendum on whether or not the help would be accepted. Then, in the resulting furor, came the next announcement: Just kidding! The referendum, which some feared could add that extra bit of instability that Europe doesn't need, has been cancelled.
If the first move made him look undiplomatic -- unmindful of the stakes, or the incredible risks that other countries were making on Greece's behalf -- the second move, especially because it was first announced by his finance minister, made him look weak. But his irritated allies are only part of the problem: Papandreou is now inches away from being ousted at home, facing a very tight confidence vote Friday evening. Reuters is reporting Papandreou saying privately, in a cabinet meeting, that he might stand down after building a coalition with the opposition. If he doesn't do that, his opponents might simply call for an election.
And yet, surveying the wreckage, one still wonders: did Papandreou do any worse than anyone else might have done in his position? Was he doomed from the start?
It's a familiar debate in politics and an even more familiar one among historians. Which counts for more: men or circumstances? Choices, or the framework that determines them? Papandreou came into power promising reform, and that's exactly what his government set about trying to enact. It was hardly their fault that, in the course of setting the books straight, they found that predecessors had lied for years about the government's finances.
It's hard to see how anyone could have gracefully navigated through the competing interests in Greece and Europe right now. Greek citizens are having none of the austerity measures Papandreou has imposed under pressure from Germany: aside from protests in the streets, there have been, for example, the trash collector strikes, leaving garbage in stinking piles all over Athens. Plenty of citizens seem to think the strings-attached bailouts from Europe are pointless, as Greece will have to default anyway. Meanwhile the European community wants more discipline still. And it needs Greece to take the money on the table: fears are rampant about a domino effect, Greece's troubles are increasing investors' fears about Italy, and so forth.
It's not quite that all of Papandreou's European peers want one thing while all of his constituents want another. Plenty of Papandreou's own party members, for example, were outraged by his referendum idea, feeling he risked Greek stability for a political trick. Reuters, at least, tracked down an ordinary shopkeeper with the same opinion.
As the BBC points out, despite anger over austerity measures, "A recent opinion poll in a newspaper showed 70% [of Greeks] wanted to remain within the eurozone."
But that, actually, was precisely Papandreou's point, many say, in calling for the referendum. One popular reading of the referendum gimmick is, as The Wall Street Journal's Terence Roth put it, that Papandreou's "solution" to opposition intransigence and public outcry was to "call the bluff." In other words, what he was really saying was something like: 'Okay, guys. You really want to sink this ship? Sink it. I dare you. And if you don't, shut up.'
It's too soon to tell for sure, but it looks like that may have backfired big time. Here's the quote from Antonis Samaras, leader of the opposing New Democracy party:
I am wondering: Mr. Papandreou almost destroyed Greece and Europe, the euro, the international stock markets, his own party in order to ensure what? So that he could blackmail me and the Greek public? Or to ensure what I had already said several days ago; that I accept the bailout agreement as unavoidable?
Not exactly an ideal sound bite to have on the airwaves.
So we'll see what happens with this confidence vote tonight. At least one expert -- Michael Thumann, writing out of Istanbul for German paper Die Zeit -- thinks Papandreou's finished regardless of the outcome. He calls this week's 180-degree turns "suicidal."
Perhaps that's true. If so, the real verdict won't come tonight, but a few decades down the line, and even then there will be a degree of provisionality. With a little more context, will historians decide the decisive factor was the hand Papandreou was dealt, or the way he played it? After all, people do stupid, suicidal things with bad hands all the time, and it looks a lot like boldness and brilliance if it works. But in politics as in poker, people tend to care less about strategy than outcome.
Forget the Common Core, Finland’s youngsters are in charge of determining what happens in the classroom.
“The changes to kindergarten make me sick,” a veteran teacher in Arkansas recently admitted to me. “Think about what you did in first grade—that’s what my 5-year-old babies are expected to do.”
The difference between first grade and kindergarten may not seem like much, but what I remember about my first-grade experience in the mid-90s doesn’t match the kindergarten she described in her email: three and a half hours of daily literacy instruction, an hour and a half of daily math instruction, 20 minutes of daily “physical activity time” (officially banned from being called “recess”) and two 56-question standardized tests in literacy and math—on the fourth week of school.
That American friend—who teaches 20 students without an aide—has fought to integrate 30 minutes of “station time” into the literacy block, which includes “blocks, science, magnetic letters, play dough with letter stamps to practice words, books, and storytelling.” But the most controversial area of her classroom isn’t the blocks nor the stamps: Rather, it’s the “house station with dolls and toy food”—items her district tried to remove last year. The implication was clear: There’s no time for play in kindergarten anymore.
Even in big cities like Tokyo, small children take the subway and run errands by themselves. The reason has a lot to do with group dynamics.
It’s a common sight on Japanese mass transit: Children troop through train cars, singly or in small groups, looking for seats.
They wear knee socks, polished patent-leather shoes, and plaid jumpers, with wide-brimmed hats fastened under the chin and train passes pinned to their backpacks. The kids are as young as 6 or 7, on their way to and from school, and there is nary a guardian in sight.
A popular television show called Hajimete no Otsukai, or My First Errand, features children as young as two or three being sent out to do a task for their family. As they tentatively make their way to the greengrocer or bakery, their progress is secretly filmed by a camera crew. The show has been running for more than 25 years.
A new study finds that people today who eat and exercise the same amount as people 20 years ago are still fatter.
There’s a meme aimed at Millennial catharsis called “Old Economy Steve.” It’s a series of pictures of a late-70s teenager, who presumably is now a middle-aged man, that mocks some of the messages Millennials say they hear from older generations—and shows why they’re deeply janky. Old Economy Steve graduates and gets a job right away. Old Economy Steve “worked his way through college” because tuition was $400. And so forth.
We can now add another one to that list: Old Economy Steve ate at McDonald’s almost every day, and he still somehow had a 32-inch waist.
A study published recently in the journal Obesity Research & Clinical Practice found that it’s harder for adults today to maintain the same weight as those 20 to 30 years ago did, even at the same levels of food intake and exercise.
Some businesspeople are working half of the week in far-off countries or catching 3 a.m. trains just so that they don’t have to uproot their lives at home.
A few years back, David Neeleman, the founder of JetBlue Airways, left his company and launched a new airline in Brazil. The airline, Azul, flies 22 million people a year, employs 12,000 people, and is the fastest-growing carrier in the region.
You’d think running such a large, complex operation would require a move to South America. But Neeleman commutes to Azul’s Sao Paulo headquarters every week from his home in Connecticut, taking the 10-hour redeye on Sunday nights and returning on Thursdays. This way, he says, he doesn’t have to uproot his family of 10 kids.
“My wife wasn’t so interested in moving,” said Neeleman, who recently bought TAP, Portugal’s national airline and is now commuting there as well. “We had all these kids playing [American] football and lacrosse. They don’t have those sports in Brazil.”
In the movie Up in the Air, George Clooney successfully captures the road-warrior ethos that has long been associated with, say, business consultants from firms like McKinsey & Company who work on projects outside their hometowns and spend most of their week in hotels. But now, more and more executives around the world are choosing to take on lengthy commutes on a permanent basis, even if their jobs don’t demand it. Increasing globalization and tech-enabled workplace flexibility are certainly part of the reason why. But a more child-centered approach to parenting also seems to be a factor, as these executives make other major sacrifices in order to balance their professional and home lives.
Your income, how long you dated, and how many people attend your wedding affect the odds you'll stay together.
A diamond is forever, but an expensive engagement ring means the marriage might not last that long. According to a new study, spending between $2,000 and $4,000 on an engagement ring is significantly associated with an increase in the risk of divorce.
The data scientist Randal Olson recently visualized some of the findings from a paper by Andrew Francis and Hugo Mialon, two researchers at Emory University who studied 3,000 married couples in the U.S. to determine the factors that predicted divorce. They analyzed income, religious attendance, how important attractiveness was to each partner, wedding attendance, and other metrics to determine the aspects associated with eventual marital dissolution.
Any attempt to address mass incarceration has to begin with an effort to tackle crime—and the social conditions linked to its rise.
With the publication of “The Black Family in the Age of Mass Incarceration” Ta-Nehisi Coates has added an elegant and forceful voice to the growing frustration with the inefficacy and injustice of America’s criminal-justice system. Mandatory-sentencing laws, the War on Drugs, juvenile-justice sentences that seem to do more to create than deter criminals, racial arrest and sentencing disparities: All are ready for a tough national cross-examination.
But even in the unlikely event that Washington and state legislatures successfully adapt the nation’s crime policies to a safer, more racially sensitive era, the nation will still look around to find more black men in prison than it might expect or want. There’s a simple reason for that, one that Coates himself notes: Relative to other groups, blacks commit more crimes. To understand why is to tackle some very hard-to-talk-about realities of black family life. And on that issue—and despite his announced interest in the topic—Coates has been the opposite of lucid.
David Hume, the Buddha, and a search for the Eastern roots of the Western Enlightenment
In2006, i was 50—and I was falling apart.
Until then, I had always known exactly who I was: an exceptionally fortunate and happy woman, full of irrational exuberance and everyday joy.
I knew who I was professionally. When I was 16, I’d discovered cognitive science and analytic philosophy, and knew at once that I wanted the tough-minded, rigorous, intellectual life they could offer me. I’d gotten my doctorate at 25 and had gone on to become a professor of psychology and philosophy at UC Berkeley.
I knew who I was personally, too. For one thing, I liked men. I was never pretty, but the heterosexual dance of attraction and flirtation had always been an important part of my life, a background thrum that brightened and sharpened all the rest. My closest friends and colleagues had all been men.
Not all purveyors of art think the male form gets enough attention. Exhibitions like Sascha Schneider’s show at the Leslie Lohman Museum of Gay and Lesbian Art have highlighted the importance of the male nude and its relationship to history; but others, including the recent "Masculine/Masculine" retrospective at the Musée d'Orsay, have prompted the question: "Why had there never been an exhibition dedicated the male nude until … last year?" The answer: Unlike female bodies, which are supposedly mysterious and full of secrets, male bodies are boring—or at least they're presented that way. A new book, Universal Hunks: A Pictoral History of Muscular Men Around the World, 1895-1975, provides a little more perspective.
In the name of emotional well-being, college students are increasingly demanding protection from words and ideas they don’t like. Here’s why that’s disastrous for education—and mental health.
Something strange is happening at America’s colleges and universities. A movement is arising, undirected and driven largely by students, to scrub campuses clean of words, ideas, and subjects that might cause discomfort or give offense. Last December, Jeannie Suk wrote in an online article for The New Yorker about law students asking her fellow professors at Harvard not to teach rape law—or, in one case, even use the word violate (as in “that violates the law”) lest it cause students distress. In February, Laura Kipnis, a professor at Northwestern University, wrote an essay in The Chronicle of Higher Education describing a new campus politics of sexual paranoia—and was then subjected to a long investigation after students who were offended by the article and by a tweet she’d sent filed Title IX complaints against her. In June, a professor protecting himself with a pseudonym wrote an essay for Vox describing how gingerly he now has to teach. “I’m a Liberal Professor, and My Liberal Students Terrify Me,” the headline said. A number of popular comedians, including Chris Rock, have stopped performing on college campuses (see Caitlin Flanagan’s article in this month’s issue). Jerry Seinfeld and Bill Maher have publicly condemned the oversensitivity of college students, saying too many of them can’t take a joke.
American politicians are now eager to disown a failed criminal-justice system that’s left the U.S. with the largest incarcerated population in the world. But they've failed to reckon with history. Fifty years after Daniel Patrick Moynihan’s report “The Negro Family” tragically helped create this system, it's time to reclaim his original intent.
By his own lights, Daniel Patrick Moynihan, ambassador, senator, sociologist, and itinerant American intellectual, was the product of a broken home and a pathological family. He was born in 1927 in Tulsa, Oklahoma, but raised mostly in New York City. When Moynihan was 10 years old, his father, John, left the family, plunging it into poverty. Moynihan’s mother, Margaret, remarried, had another child, divorced, moved to Indiana to stay with relatives, then returned to New York, where she worked as a nurse. Moynihan’s childhood—a tangle of poverty, remarriage, relocation, and single motherhood—contrasted starkly with the idyllic American family life he would later extol.