The British royal family is an expensive anachronism and little more.
Queen Elizabeth visits the Dersingham Infant and Nursery School in Dersingham on the 60th anniversary of her rule / Reuters
Today is the sixtieth anniversary of Queen Elizabeth II's ascension to
the British throne, which occurred upon her father's death in 1952.
Happy anniversary -- or Diamond Jubilee, as it is known -- Your Majesty.
Now: what exactly are you still doing there, anyway?
and the royals' tourist appeal aside, there's something a bit jarring
both to logic and to liberal democratic sensibilities about what the
queen stands for. After all, British "citizens" are still at least
nominally, and arguably legally, considered "subjects." The United
Kingdom's Home Office and the passports it issues reflect the
country's switch in 1949 from the language of subjecthood to
citizenship, and thus make a distinction between "citizens of the United
Kingdom" and "British subjects." That's not a particularly pretty
distinction, since the latter is mostly a leftover of the country's
But as plenty of experts have pointed out, there is no piece of paper that
officially designates Brits as "citizens."
And if a magazine-length article
can be written under the headline "Are we subjects or citizens?" as the BBC did in 2005, whatever scraps of citizenship clinging to Britons can't be all that substantial.
The financial side of the British monarchy is no less quirky. Governing for payment is standard, but the queen reigns, which appears mostly to mean visiting things. Strange as this looks from a practical standpoint, it's even stranger in theory. In 2012, why would the people of a Western state pay someone to subjugate them? That Britain is Western matters here not so much because of values but because of history. The British state was arguably the first in the region to be organized along the principles of an explicit social contract; it's the heir to the English Magna Carta in 1215 as well as the Glorious Revolution, where, for the first time, monarchs -- King William and Queen Mary -- were brought in to accept a crown on the subjects' own terms. Yet, in a twist that continues to fascinate historians, William and Mary paved the way for remarkably conservative stability in the ensuing centuries. France, as the trope goes, had a political revolution, Britain had an industrial one. And here the two countries are today, France heading into the final stretch of a presidential election, while a not insignificant portion of the British economy gets poured into preparations for a June-weekend Diamond Jubilee of a figurehead queen, who Britons never explicitly agreed to support.
Though the March 2011 financial report on royal finances proudly announced a 19% decrease in the Queen's official expenditure over the course of five years, is this really much solace? Her family will still spend £32.1 million, quite a lot of money. Remarkably, UK education secretary Michael Gove reportedly also wanted the public to donate a £60 million royal yacht to Her Majesty for the 2012 celebrations, although the details of that proposal are disputed, and private donations were mentioned as well.
Downing Street nixed the public funding idea, fortunately. Prime Minister David Cameron did declare early Monday, though, that "Today is a day to pay tribute to the magnificent service of Her Majesty the Queen." Her "experience, dignity, and quiet authority," he also mentioned are indisputable, but "pay tribute" seems a bit too atavistically close to home for comfort, and Brits don't have as much tribute to give up as they used to. And "magnificent service"? No one doubts the queen keeps a pretty punishing schedule of standing in formal ceremonies and visiting schools for a lady her age -- but there are a few palaces and a lifetime source of income in the deal.
The royal wedding is over. Kate's and Pippa's dresses were fantastic, and the hats were fun. No argument there. As a privately funded theme park, the royals have real potential. The monarchy, so the crown defenders' argument goes, does indeed bring in cash for the country through tourism and from the Crown Estate. But the current set-up is bizarre, and the frenzied yearning for a U.S. equivalent among so many of my American countrymen and women last spring was puzzling. In the cold, clear light of this less glamorous royal event, the monarchy looks like exactly what it is: a major anachronism. Nothing more.
South Africa says it will leave the ICC, ISIS attacks Irbil, Trump gets booed, and more from across the United States and around the world.
—South Africa has notified the UN that it is withdrawing from The Hague-based International Criminal Court. A government minister said South Africa didn’t want to carry out ICC arrest warrants against other African leaders—warrants, he said, that would lead to “regime change.” More here
—ISIS, under sustained attack in its last major Iraqi stronghold, Mosul, attacked the city of Irbil. At least 19 people are dead in the attacks.
Science says lasting relationships come down to—you guessed it—kindness and generosity.
Every day in June, the most popular wedding month of the year, about 13,000 American couples will say “I do,” committing to a lifelong relationship that will be full of friendship, joy, and love that will carry them forward to their final days on this earth.
Except, of course, it doesn’t work out that way for most people. The majority of marriages fail, either ending in divorce and separation or devolving into bitterness and dysfunction. Of all the people who get married, only three in ten remain in healthy, happy marriages, as psychologist Ty Tashiro points out in his book The Science of Happily Ever After, which was published earlier this year.
Social scientists first started studying marriages by observing them in action in the 1970s in response to a crisis: Married couples were divorcing at unprecedented rates. Worried about the impact these divorces would have on the children of the broken marriages, psychologists decided to cast their scientific net on couples, bringing them into the lab to observe them and determine what the ingredients of a healthy, lasting relationship were. Was each unhappy family unhappy in its own way, as Tolstoy claimed, or did the miserable marriages all share something toxic in common?
The candidates are back on the campaign trail, following the third, and final, debate on Wednesday night.
It’s Friday, October 21—the election is now less than three weeks away. Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton are back on the campaign trail to deliver their final pitch to voters, ahead of Election Day. We’ll bring you the latest updates from the trail, as events unfold. Also see our continuing coverage:
An interview with Bill O’Reilly Monday night distilled many of the struggles the Late Show host has had in his first year on the job.
Almost 10 years ago, Stephen Colbert appeared on Fox News’ The O’Reilly Factor in character as the Colbert Report host—a pugnacious, egotistical super-pundit who tolerates no criticism. Colbert has frequently acknowledged that O’Reilly was the chief inspiration for his on-screen persona, and it was hilarious to see the imitation go up against the real thing. “What I do, Bill, is I catch the world in the headlights of my justice,” Colbert bragged to a smirking O’Reilly. “I’m not afraid of anything. Well, I might be afraid of you.” The same day, O’Reilly went on Colbert’s show; the combative tension between the two remains genuinely thrilling to watch.
On Monday night O’Reilly went on The Late Show With Stephen Colbert to talk about the state of the Republican Party and Fox News. The conversation was civil, at times energetic, but mostly bland. O’Reilly, clearly far more at ease, pontificated on the state of the Trump campaign while dodging any discussion of some of its biggest controversies. Ultimately, it was a notable reminder of just how much things have changed for Colbert since he cast off his late-night character and joined CBS. To stand out in a crowded landscape, Colbert has pursued even-handedness and empathy, a drastic swerve away from his former public persona. It’s an approach both noble and misguided, but a year into his Late Show run, it’s kept him firmly out of the zeitgeist.
Thais find ways to grieve the only monarch most have ever known, from black pants to body art.
In the waiting room of the Sak Lai tattoo studio in central Bangkok, the owner, who goes by the name Leck New York, showed me his latest design: the numeral “9,” sketched in Thai several times on drafting paper. It’s a popular choice among clients looking to pay tribute to the late King Bhumibol Adulyadej, the ninth monarch of the Chakri dynasty, and a widely revered figure in fractious Thailand. More than 10 clients have been inked with a royal motif at Sak Lai since the 88-year-old king died last week, ending his 70-year reign as the world’s longest-serving monarch. For some, it’s the words “Long Live The King.” Others get a tattoo of Bhumibol’s signature glasses, twisted into a 9. Still other popular choices include a well-known saying that translates to “Let me serve under his Majesty the king in every life.” And some ask for a portrait of Bhumibol.
Why her vow not to “add a penny to the debt” is an impossible pledge to keep
Hillary Clinton said nothing on Wednesday night that should derail her considerable chances of winning the presidency on November 8. But if she wins, one simple promise she repeated over and over again could come back to haunt her reelection bid in 2020.
“I also will not add a penny to the debt,” Clinton said toward the beginning of her final presidential-debate performance. She made a similar pledge two more times that night, and it’s a line she has used before on the campaign trail. It’s a short-hand reference to the fact that although she has proposed hundreds of billions in new federal spending for infrastructure, paid family leave, education, and other items, she would pay for those investments by raising an equal or greater amount in revenue through higher taxes on the wealthy and corporations.
The House speaker thinks there’s a better way for America—and that his plan will change your life.
Picture the set of the Broadway musical hit, The Book of Mormon. House Speaker Paul Ryan stands on the doorstep of a cozy, nondescript house in a cozy, nondescript suburb. The well-tended yards up and down the street are a sea of red and blue campaign signs crowing “Trump!” and “I’m With Her!” Ryan is wearing a short-sleeve white oxford, black dress slacks, and a black tie. He clutches a slender, white booklet to his chest as he rings the doorbell, wide smile lighting his boyish face. After a few seconds, the door is opened by an impatient-looking blonde woman holding a cell phone to her ear. Before she can say a word, the Speaker of the House takes a deep breath, opens his mouth, and bursts into song.
Rarely have presidential nominees declared, without qualification, that it’s a woman’s right to choose.
Even in a presidential campaign that has become so intensely focused on gender, there was something surreal about watching Hillary Clinton’s response to a question about abortion in Wednesday night’s debate.
Here was the first woman nominated by a major party for the United States presidency, standing on the debate stage in “suffragette white,” and talking in no uncertain terms about her strong commitment to protecting a woman’s right to “make the most intimate, most difficult in many cases, decisions about her health care that one can imagine.”
Democrats are expected to support abortion rights, of course, but that support is often couched with carefully hedged language. This is an understandable impulse, given how divisive the issue of abortion remains.
Trump’s refusal to say he would accept the election results will ensure negative coverage for the final three weeks of the election, and with good reason.
At times during tonight’s debate, Donald Trump seemed controlled, succinct, even prepared.
It didn’t matter. In an instant, he lost the debate and blew his chance of using it to turn around his sinking campaign.
That instant came when Trump refused to say he would respect the outcome of next month’s vote.
Barring some massive unforeseen news, that comment will dominate political conversation in the coming days. By next week, it will be all anyone remembers about tonight. And for good reason. A major party nominee suggesting he won’t concede defeat in a presidential election he has clearly lost was, until Trump came along, unthinkable. Had Al Gore taken that position in 2000, the United States might not be a functioning democracy today. If Trump’s position becomes the new normal--if future candidates refuse to respect the voters’ will--America may not remain one. Democracies require public legitimacy for their survival. When powerful actors withhold that legitimacy, the system crumbles.
The conservative thinker’s work is a reminder of how intellectually self-satisfied politicians and cable-news have become.
William F. Buckley Jr. could have made Donald Trump quiver with impotent rage. This is a guy who sent Ayn Rand postcards in liturgical Latin just to make her mad, and then bragged about it in her obituary. In part because of his trollish panache, the founder of National Review and longtime host of the television show Firing Line was a conservative mascot in life, and he has become mythologized in death. The 2016 election has made it clear that no one quite like Buckley is working in media today: Republicans are hurting for a cocksure slayer of pseudo-conservative invaders.
No wonder two Buckley retrospectives have come out this October. Open to Debate, by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology media-studies professor Heather Hendershot, examines Buckley’s tenure on Firing Line and the diverse ideologies represented on the show. A Torch Kept Lit, edited by the Fox News correspondent James Rosen, chronicles notable obituaries written by WFB, as Buckley’s fans often call him. Both indulge nostalgia in their own way, but their yearning points to something real: In American politics, and specifically in political media, quality debate has seemingly withered. The presidential election has been an 18-month-long series of lows for civil discourse, culminating in the insult-laden, nearly-impossible-to-follow presidential debates.