James Fallows is a national correspondent for The Atlantic and has written for the magazine since the late 1970s. He has reported extensively from outside the United States and once worked as President Carter's chief speechwriter. His latest book is China Airborne.
James Fallows is based in Washington as a national correspondent for The Atlantic. He has worked for the magazine for nearly 30 years and in that time has also lived in Seattle, Berkeley, Austin, Tokyo, Kuala Lumpur, Shanghai, and Beijing. He was raised in Redlands, California, received his undergraduate degree in American history and literature from Harvard, and received a graduate degree in economics from Oxford as a Rhodes scholar. In addition to working for The Atlantic, he has spent two years as chief White House speechwriter for Jimmy Carter, two years as the editor of US News & World Report, and six months as a program designer at Microsoft. He is an instrument-rated private pilot. He is also now the chair in U.S. media at the U.S. Studies Centre at the University of Sydney, in Australia.
Fallows has been a finalist for the National Magazine Award five times and has won once; he has also won the American Book Award for nonfiction and a N.Y. Emmy award for the documentary series Doing Business in China. He was the founding chairman of the New America Foundation. His recent books Blind Into Baghdad (2006) and Postcards From Tomorrow Square (2009) are based on his writings for The Atlantic. His latest book is China Airborne. He is married to Deborah Fallows, author of the recent book Dreaming in Chinese. They have two married sons.
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I was at the uneventful (if tense) Legco [Legislative Council] demonstration on Saturday as well as last night's demonstrations between Causeway Bay and Central.
It was as much depressing as, ultimately, uplifting. When I was incapacitated by a blast of pepper spray, I somehow found myself being reverse crowd-surfed to a safe area.
There, a young girl cradled my head and poured water into my eyes. Some others wiped the chemicals off my arms and legs. When they went on to help the next injured person, an old woman kept watch over me, speaking soft Cantonese and plying me with all manner of snacks and drinks. These were complete strangers. Later, when we scrambled to avoid the first tear gas attack, a small band of people committed to staying put and helping the crush of smoke victims climb over the concrete barriers and into safety.
Warming up before the Pigs-Chiefs night game, Coca-Cola Park (James Fallows)
It turns out that the Lehigh Valley Iron Pigs aren't really that good at baseball, at least this year. They lost two of the three games we saw at Coca-Cola Stadium last month—a day-night doubleheader on a Saturday, and a night game the following Monday, all against the Syracuse Chiefs and all in idyllic, clear high-sky conditions. A few weeks later at the end of the season, the Chiefs were at the top of the triple-A International League Northern division, and the poor Iron Pigs were 15.5 games back in last place.
Maybe we're not good-luck omens for plucky minor-league teams. Earlier in the summer, our Duluth Huskies, of the Northwoods league, took a 9-7 lead over the Eau Claire Express into the bottom of the 8th, only to lose by the improbable 11-inning score of 16-9. (That is what giving up 7 runs in the top of the 11th will do to a team.) Happily, the Huskies ended up tied for first in their league.
But we couldn't feel too bad about the Iron Pigs' loss. Although we loyally cheered for them, the visiting Chiefs are the AAA-farm team of our local rampaging Washington Nationals, so from our perspective it was a win either way.*
(The Iron Pigs are part of the Phillies organization.) And we got to take part in one of the civic institutions meant to be part of a revived Allentown and greater Lehigh Valley.
Deb Fallows describes the game, the team, the stadium, and the idea behind all of them in a new post in our American Futures series. You can read it here. Below you can see that post's author, in the white skirt, looking on from the centerfield lawn/stands as Kai Ryssdal (green shirt) and his Marketplace team interview Lee Butz (white shirt) who built the stadium.
And if you're still wondering about the Allentown spirit, please check out this city video, produced earlier this year and featuring many of the people you've heard about in our dispatches so far, and a few more to come.
Personal note: for the past ten days, and the ten+ days to come, I have been and will be heavily preoccupied with a big print-magazine project. Look forward to returning to this beat.
* Similarly: From my parochial perspective, this is the most satisfying baseball season in a long time. The Eastern division leaders are the Nationals and the Os, for whom my kids grew up cheering in the pre-Nationals era. In the West, it's the LA Dodgers with whom I grew up, and the Angels. The Central people can fight it out. Only imperfection is that the As, who we cheered on when living in Berkeley, haven't yet made it.
Fountain in Allentown's Cedar Creek Park (John Tierney)
Water is increasingly the theme that connects the world's big energy, environmental, and climate-related questions. Fracking in the United States, China, and elsewhere is creating new, cheaper, potentially cleaner energy sources; but it consumes a lot of water, and might pollute even more. Air pollution is the most visible (literally) environmental disaster in China, but maintaining water supplies for the country's cities, factories, and farms may be an even greater challenge. Water-level rise is one of the most feared future effects of climate change, and ocean-water acidification in the here-and-now is already an emergency for coral reefs, shellfish, and so on. Then we have the business, agricultural, and environmental consequences of the California drought. (Which is an occasion to mention: Our California High-Speed Rail series is about to resume, and will be the next feature in this space. I have been wrestling with a big print-magazine article and American Futures travels since the previous installment.)
And even the verdant Lehigh Valley, home to Allentown, Bethlehem, Easton, and environs, is dealing with water issues. In "The City That Turned Its Water Into Cash," the latest American Futures installment, John Tierney describes the unusual bet the Allentown city government made about solving the pension burdens it had inherited from its past, with water supplies for its future. It's a local version of privatization steps taken in other cities, most famously or notoriously with Chicago's decision to lease-out the right to run its parking meters. John explains the logic behind it and why the city leaders in Allentown considered this a necessary next step in their area's revival. For more details, please see his post.
Motivational billboard at the Parkettes gymnastics training center in Allentown, Pa. (Deborah Fallows)
Whether in admiring ways (from Tocqueville to Frank Capra) or disparaging / mocking (from Babbitt onward), observers of America have marveled at the informal organizational fabric that held this disparate country together. Elks and Rotary, volunteer fire departments and Junior League, Cub Scouts and Brownies, PTA and library board, neighborhood sports, of course religious organizations—these all typified and governed America as much as its formal governing structures.
Over the past 20 years, Robert Putnam has been the best-known exponent of the idea that this essential fabric has atrophied. First in 1995 in the Journal of Democracy and then five years later in the book Bowling Alone, Putnam argued that America had become a group of atomized, dis-connected individuals who owed nothing to one another and had become a crowd rather than a society.
Reinvention and resilience across the nation Read more
A reader in China, who is himself in the clean-energy business, writes to dispute the claim—really, how much of a step forward it represents. First he highlighted these parts of the AP story about the renewable claim. The story said:
"[The local utility companies do not contend] that each of their customers' lights comes from renewable sources all the time. When the wind isn't blowing and the rivers are low, they will buy power from traditional sources that include electricity generated from fossil fuels.
"When the resources are right, though, they get more than they can use, and the difference is sold to other utilities. Over time, they sell more than they buy."
The story then quoted an energy expert on the effects of the plan:
"They are selling the renewable energy credits to customers in other states. Those customers have the renewable and clean energy benefits of that power," [one expert] said. "Simply using accounting measures to make claims about clean energy doesn't get us there."...
[A professor at the University of Vermont] said reaching 100 percent was a big achievement.
"It definitely makes me feel better here at UVM to know that every time I turn on a light switch or fire up my computer or anything else, to know that it's 100 percent renewable," he said.
This reader in China (a Westerner) begs to differ:
I hope I do not sound too didactic in pointing out that the reason we care about renewables at all is to affect (for the better) the physical world:
1. Moving an existing dam from one owner to another [which is part of what Burlington did] is an example of something that has no effect on the physical world. The buyer gets the renewable energy, the seller and its customers lose it and need to replace that lost renewable energy with something else. To claim this as any sort of improvement in the physical environment is basically just a shell game.
2. As noted in the articles, all these renewables (except perhaps the hydro) have to be backed up by non-renewables, so the net impact in the physical world is an increase in total installed net electric power generating capacity – not a decrease.
What is missing to make renewables the boon they really could be is widespread, cost-effective power storage, so that the renewables can provide power on demand without needing backup from fossil fuel plants. People are working on this. The others of us need to recognize how vital it is.
3. It is a basic rule of renewables that if you sell to someone else the renewable energy credits (or attributes) associated with your generator, then you can’t claim to have renewable energy yourself from the same generator. The reason for this is obvious – double-counting would otherwise be rampant, because the buyer of the credits is claiming to be using renewable energy as a result. What you sell to the buyer is the right to say “I am using renewable energy.” You can’t both sell that right and assert it yourself.
4. It sounds as if Burlington has cleverly tried to deal with this by a sort of renewable energy credit (or attributes) arbitrage process – buy low, sell high. So they can sell their cake and claim it, too. As a skeptic in the article correctly suggests, we are not going to improve the physical environment with accounting.
5. The delusion of the fellow turning on his computer and “knowing” that the power always comes 100% from renewables is the reason all this matters, in the real world. He’s happy, when in truth he should only be somewhat relieved at a marginal improvement and mildly appreciative of what would seem (from this article at least) to be his utility’s admirable efforts to improve conditions in the real world while considerably overstating (or over-implying/suggesting) the net real-world environmental impacts of those efforts (I think the apt word here might be “puffery”).
6. It is only the latter (the puffery) that troubles me, since I think that – society-wide – it encourages the computer-guy delusion, and makes it sound as if cleaning up our electric power supply is all going to be much simpler and less expensive than is the case. It is going to be terribly difficult, it is going to be expensive, and yet it is urgent, because the world is well along the path to being cooked. Lulling people into any sort of complacency is just plain counter-productive.
Offered for the record, as perspective on what this announcement indicates—and does not. More ahead on city- and state-level efforts to make real progress in climate and energy issues, at a time when legislative steps at the federal level seem impossible.
A rustbelt city trying to recreate itself: downtown Allentown, Pa., two weeks ago (John Tierney)
1) Green Power in Vermont. Last year our American Futures team reported on several almost-too-good-to-be-true aspects of life in Burlington, Vermont. A print newspaper that was thriving. A commercial airport that was actually pleasant. A brewery whose output was so much in demand that it rationed sales to give everyone a chance. A strong business-and-social-responsibility culture, including in clean tech and info tech. Advances in traditional higher-ed but also in a "career-oriented" approach. An ability to absorb refugees and immigrants. Overall, effective governance and public-private collaboration, from the era of its onetime Socialist mayor Bernie Sanders to the current Democratic mayor Miro Weinberger.
Today, a significant news announcement via this AP storyby Wilson Ring. It begins:
Vermont's largest city has a new success to add to its list of socially conscious achievements: 100 percent of its electricity now comes from renewable sources such as wind, water and biomass....
"It shows that we're able to do it, and we're able to do it cost effectively in a way that makes Vermonters really positioned well for the future," said Christopher Recchia, the commissioner of the Vermont Department of Public Service.
A lot of things are easier to do in a small state like Vermont than in a big, sprawling, quarrelsome country like America as a whole. Still, these things don't happen on their own, and this is another reason to offer congratulations.
Reinvention and resilience across the nation Read more
2) Eagles Power in Allentown. As we previewed last week (and as was covered on Marketplace), this past Friday night was a huge watershed for the government, businesses, and people of Allentown, Pa. That was when the high-stakes effort to revive the tattered downtown had its debut event, with a concert by The Eagles at the new PPL Arena.
How did it go? Our friends at the Morning Call have a number of generally upbeat stories. For instance, here's the way their review of the concert itself was played on the Morning Call's site.
And here was the connection between the band and the town. The Eagles group, John Moser wrote,
which once was such a mighty force in music that it sold 60 million albums in the 1970s alone and became the third-best-selling band of all time, is back on tour after just one studio album in 35 years and no Top 10 songs since 1980.
That puts the band in much the same situation as Allentown — a city that is decades removed from its glory years and is looking to reassert itself.
Both were pretty impressive at the arena's first event Friday.
For other local coverage, you can start here or here, which includes a charming video of people who had come back into the downtown for the first time in years. This latter story includes a variety of reactions like this:
"I used to come here as a kid, but there was never any reason to come back unless you had jury duty," [a suburbanite] said. "This is a lot nicer than I've heard. They've really cleaned it up. I can't believe this is Allentown."
Allentown still has a million problems and a very long way to go, as people there are aware and as we will discuss. But to kick off the new season of American Futures coverage, please check out John Tierney's new post on the unusual tax plan that lies behind the downtown revival, and the people in state and local government behind that plan. He explains how it's different from urban-incentive programs in place anywhere else, the tradeoffs it involves, and why—in his view, as a one-time political-science professor* and a communitarian in outlook—he thinks it is a positive step.
More to come later this week, as we unveil a new look for this series. For now, good wishes to people working hard for their communities from Burlington to Allentown.
*Small-world department: When John Tierney was in graduate school at Harvard, his dissertation supervisor was none other than the late James Q. Wilson, who is famous in and beyond Atlantic precincts as co-author of the hugely influential article "Broken Windows." John studied urban politics and has been wrestling with these issues for a long time.
A 500-pound cake, inside the arena it depicts (Village Bake Shoppe)
Yesterday Marketplace had a very thorough story about Allentown’s effort to revive its downtown, and I did a teaser for a series of posts we’ll start next week. If you check the Marketplace link, you can read a great overview by Tommy Andres of the city's predicament and plans. As a bonus you'll see the incredibly Village People-esque Billy Joel music video of his early-80s song "Allentown" (which was actually about nearby Bethlehem) plus modern-day pictures of the city. You go can straight to the video here.
For now, an update on the event that’s the official kickoff of the new era in downtown-Allentown’s history: the debut of the new PPL Arena, with a concert at 8 pm tonight by The Eagles.
Two weeks ago, our team of road-hardened reporters—Kai Ryssdal and Tommy Andres of Marketplace; John Tierney and Deb Fallows of the Atlantic, plus me—were absolutely as one in disbelieving that the now-shiny, then-unfinished new arena could possibly be ready in time for tonight’s scheduled opening.
But by all on-scene accounts, ready it is. I just heard from one local resident that there is still some last-minute patchwork underway. But the huge trucks carrying The Eagles’ stage equipment have been there for a long time, disgorging equipment and setting up for the show that starts five hours from now as I type.
Mayor Ed Pawlowski told me today, “We’re ready!” Doug Pelletier, head of a software firm that has just moved its headquarters to a renovated site one block from the arena, agreed. Scott Krauss and Matt Assad of the Morning Call, who have followed the downtown plans from the start (and often questioned them), have an upbeat report on the opening. They include this quote from Ray O'Connell, a city councilman:
"What this means to Allentown is hope. Hope. Hope for a better Allentown. Hope for the families of Allentown. Hope for the children of the families of Allentown. Hope. And without hope, you have nothing."
To round things out, here is an on-scene update from the Atlantic’s own Corby Kummer. He is in town not for the concert but, in his role as one of the world's leading food writers, for a board meeting of the Rodale Institute. The Rodale publishing empire is based just south of Allentown in Emmaus, and the Rodale Institute, nearby in Kutztown, is the nation's leading center for trials of organic vs conventional farming techniques. Corby reports:
"Hell, yeah, it's ready. Ya gotta have faith." This was the response [yesterday afternoon] of a crusty guy at loading dock of the arena. "Now we just have to get the food in." He was directing traffic in and out of catering facility.
Workers on sidewalks at the rear corner were hosing the concrete. Traffic on the road leading to the monument, 7th St, is still blocked in all but one lane.
[This morning] I stopped a large guy in a small delivery truck with Village Bake Shoppe written on the side and asked if he’d delivered food. Yes indeed, he said. A gigantic 500-pound cake that’s a replica of the whole city block. He said it took over 70 hours and he needed eight people to help him unload it.
Faith. Hope. Cake. And rock stars. You need them all. Good wishes to Allentown tonight, and more of its saga next week.
Update: Here's a livecam, via the Morning Call, of the new arena and the crowds there hearing the Eagles. Didn't know of it when the show began, but will watch when it breaks up to check the crowds.
PPL Center arena in the heart of downtown Allentown, as it looked two weeks ago. On Friday night at 8 pm, it kicks off Allentown's new era with a concert by The Eagles. (All photos: Deborah and James Fallows)
In a few hours, our partners at Marketplace will carry their latest “American Futures” report, this one on an unusual, high-speed, and high-stakes effort to revive the tattered downtown district of Allentown, Pa. Starting next Monday, here at the Atlantic’s site, Deb Fallows, John Tierney, and I will kick off a new season of American Futures reports with a series of posts on Allentown's ambitions, challenges, and personalities.
In between those two dates—to be precise, tomorrow night, Friday, at 8 p.m.—the new era in the town's long history will begin, when a brand-new 10,000-seat arena will have its debut event with a concert by The Eagles. If you're interested in getting tickets, good luck! Some people told us that the concert was entirely sold out three hours after tickets first went on sale; others, that it had taken 24 hours. Either way, it's a significant moment for the town.
What you see at the top of this post is the way the arena and its surroundings looked less than two weeks ago, when the most common downtown sights were cement trucks, construction cranes, paving crews, and other signs of people working hard against a deadline. What you see below this paragraph is one of many sketches of how a revived Allentown central district is hoped to look.
"Will this possibly be ready in time?" we asked ourselves—and our hosts. "Yes!" said mayor Ed Pawlowski, who has overseen the revitalization effort from the city-government's perspective. "Yes!" said J.B. Reilly, the developer most prominently involved in the downtown effort. "Yes!" said Lee Butz, whose construction firm is building the arena. We'll all know for sure tomorrow.
The story we plan to tell about Allentown and the surrounding Lehigh Valley region is different from what we expected before going there (which is, of course, the reason to make these trips), and I suspect different from the image that the city's name may call up in many people's minds. Billy Joel's anthem of industrial decline "Allentown" is misleading in a micro way. It's about the ripple effects of shutting down a huge steel works—but that was in fact the story of nearby Bethlehem and its enormous Bethlehem Steel plant, whose ruins have now become an eerily compelling modern-Stonehenge style arts center, concert venue, and casino. (The music-video is also an astonishing specimen of early-Reagan-era camp, but we'll save that for a later installment — plus the reasons why Billy Joel called the song "Allentown" rather than "Bethlehem" in the first place.)
Allentown has suffered its large industrial layoffs, notably with what had once been the world manufacturing center for Mack trucks. Now that is a center of advanced-tech and light-manufacturing startups—including a great brewery, and a "meadery"—working on what had been the Mack shop floors.
We'll describe the goal of "walkable manufacturing" that the people running this center envision for their community.
But the overall economy of the Lehigh Valley region is stronger, for surprising reasons, than many outsiders would assume. What many people in Allentown describe as the city's real problem, and the challenge their new programs are designed to address, is specifically the decay of their historic downtown as a place where people were willing to shop, dine, spend time and money, work, live, and generally consider an attraction rather than a menace.
Thus when people in Allentown talk about a turning point downwards in their city's modern history, they're less likely to mention the Bethlehem Steel shutdown than the shuttering in the 1990s of the main Hess department store, which had been one of the highest-grossing retailers in the country. If you go to these archives of the Morning Call, you can find some astonishing Times-Square-on-New-Year's-Eve pictures of the throngs that once teemed in front of, and down the aisles inside, the main Hess store. (I will include some if I can get permission from the relevant people at the Morning Call. Meanwhile, here is one from Department Store Museum.) The Hess store and many other downtown retailers were the victims of, naturally, the spread of suburban sprawl-malls. By the way, the more we travel, the more we come to regard these malls as Public Enemy No. One in the mis-shaping of late 20th century America.
Getting an idea of what downtown Allentown had once been helped me understand a comment we heard from State Senator Pat Browne, a Republican who represents Allentown and who is credited with coming up with the tax plan, known as Neighborhood Improvement Zone or NIZ, that plays a crucial part in the investment boom now underway. "Ten thousand people coming right here, downtown!" he said two weeks ago, looking forward to what should happen tomorrow night. "What that will mean to everyone here ..."
If you look even a block or two in the wrong direction from the hub of all the construction, you can see all the signs of a still very troubled downtown area. Pawnshops, boarded up buildings, check-cashing operations. We'll report on how the city thinks it can spread prosperity from an intensely built-up center; what this will mean for the city's sizable Latino minority, many of whom are Puerto Ricans or Dominicans who have come from New York and New Jersey in search of a more affordable, safer life; why some of the area's companies have decided to shift their investments from suburban sprawl back downtown; how the area's school systems affect revival prospects; and more.
There's a lot riding on tomorrow's opening performance by The Eagles. I am happy to report that as of 2:30pm EDT Thursday, 30 hours before the opening, my friends in Allentown are saying that things seem all set and ready to go.
There's more to come, but that's enough for now. Over to Marketplace, and then to The Eagles, and see you here next week for more of the Allentown saga.
Tonight I won't be able to hear President Obama explain what he intends to do in Syria and elsewhere, and why. So rather than giving my reaction after the speech, let me give it before.
Eight years ago I did a cover story in The Atlantic called "Declaring Victory," whose central argument was that the United States could best protect itself against the worst long-term damage from terrorist movements by refusing to be whipsawed, baited, or panicked into self-destructive over-reaction. The piece began with a reference to Osama bin Laden that could as well be applied to the barbarous ISIS of today:
Osama bin Laden’s public statements are those of a fanatic. But they often reveal a canny ability to size up the strengths and weaknesses of both allies and enemies, especially the United States.... In his videotaped statement just days before the 2004 U.S. presidential election, bin Laden also boasted about how easy it had become for him “to provoke and bait” the American leadership: “All that we have to do is to send two mujahideen … to raise a piece of cloth on which is written ‘al-Qaeda’ in order to make the generals race there.”
ISIS, apparently with a number of Western-convert members, is by all evidence even more sophisticated about manipulating the psychology of the democratic West. As applies to them, I stand by the logic and arguments of the counterterrorism experts I quoted all those years ago. They said:
That terrorists can certainly injure a country, but the most dangerous wounds are always self-inflicted, through over-reaction. (The war in Iraq killed many more Americans, had a vastly greater economic cost, and did incalculably more diplomatic and moral damage to our country than did the horrific attacks 13 years ago tomorrow.)
That when politicians, columnists, and cable TV guests are most fervent in urging a president to "do something!" about a threat, they most often have in mind a "something"—military attack—that cannot eliminate a terrorist movement, and that often creates more opposition and even terrorism in the long run. The measures that are most effective in undermining terrorism often have least to do with dramatic, highly publicized "kinetic" acts.
That when people say "we must act now!" they are usually wrong. Usually time is on the side of the stronger player, which in this case is us. Usually the greatest weapon of the underdog is the potential to panic and rattle the other side.
That when people say "we might look weak," usually it's time to discount whatever else they say. Looking weak has little to do with being weak. Every person, institution, and state has ultimate interests to defend and lines that can't be crossed. But the more worried you seem about "proving" strength whenever it is challenged, the weaker you look. Speak softly. Big stick.
That there is an asymmetry, to use a current term, in decisions about the use of violence. If you don't attack today, you can always attack tomorrow. But if you do attack today, you have foreclosed other choices for a long time to come. (Our options in 2014 and beyond are limited by the decision to invade Iraq in 2003.)
You don't have to believe me on this, though as I say I think the article stands up. But if you can't trust me, I hope you will believe David Frum, who is now a colleague at The Atlantic but who during the early George W. Bush years was (as he points out) helping to make the case for war with Iraq. In a wise item today on our site he says:
No matter how bad things, look, though, it’s always possible to make them worse. A war now against ISIS will do just that....
Frum rightly captures the standard congressional/op-ed/cable-news reflex in time of crisis:
Something must be done! This is something! Let’s do this!
Barack Obama's early and well-explained opposition to invading Iraq, which gave him the opening to beat Hillary Clinton and become president, reflected awareness of all these points about the paradoxes of weakness and strength, of deliberation and haste. Most of the time as president he has acted from the same principles—the obvious exception being his mistaken early approval of the ineffective "surge" in Afghanistan. I hope that in his ISIS remarks and policies he does not feel tempted to again prove that he is "tough."
Could Scotland really give up the glamour of the Royal Family? Here they are at a Highland Gathering this past weekend. (Russel Cheyne/Reuters)
As advertised, I don't plan to host an open-ended forum on the merits of the Scottish independence vote. If you'd like to see the Scottish government's white paper supporting a 'Yes' vote, go here. If you've missed Paul Krugman's economic argument against it ("Spain without the sunshine"), it's here. If you'd like to know what the term "devo max" means, you can go here. (Essentially, it's much-increased Scottish autonomy within the U.K.) If you'd like an apparently serious sky-is-falling argument that the Russians will invade Scotland if it votes 'Yes,' you can find it here. For a much more toughly argued warning about the consequences, by a former UK defense minister, see this in the FT.
But to round out the arguments, in one omnibus update, here are reader messages from four distinct perspectives.
1) From a Scot in Scotland:
Just a short note to say that over too many months to count back I have followed this debate with great interest ( as a Scottish resident voter ), and [Daniel Clinkman's, posted here] is the best short summary article I have read.
For me the key points you highlight are the Devo Max option not being made available ( and why ) and the fact that England and Scotland do want, according to all voting history, centre right and centre left respectively.
I have no great interest in Nationalism and certainly not in the tartan waving Bannockburn kind but what makes me most proud to be Scottish is my long term conviction, based on my own experience, that Scots are deeply unhappy with inequality and greatly value social justice .
I'm voting yes and the economics while important are secondary to these issues.
2) From a Brit in America:
Just a couple of brief comments on Daniel Clinkman’s remarks on the Scottish independence vote:
1) Stating that “the authority of the Holyrood parliament is tenuous and could be curtailed or rescinded at any time, without judicial review” is true but incomplete without noting that the UK does not have a written constitution and therefore all UK constitutional arrangements and laws are similarly potentially subject to change “without judicial review." This is not particular to arrangements in Scotland and they are being treated no worse than the rest of the UK in this respect.
2) As for federalism, I have a lot of sympathy for the idea and I’d be all in favor of taking it further and creating autonomous subdivisions in England too (you could even base them on the old Anglo-Saxon Heptarchy if you want historical precedent).
But to state, in the context of a Scottish vote, that “the best case scenario would be devo-max or the federalization of the UK, but Westminster would not allow either to be on the referendum ballot” implies the highly anti-democratic notion that a vote by 5.3 million Scotts should be able to decide on the constitution of the entire UK, total population 64 million. To move in the direction of federalism you would have to have referendum that included all the UK in the vote....
Almost all the discussion I have seen in this country about the referendum has related to the potential effects of independence on Scotland (I did see a piece in the New York Times about what effect it might have on Wales), but nothing on what might happen in England.
Because the population of England is ten times larger than that of Scotland, and given the large percentage of UK GDP generated in London and the South East, the economic impact will probably not be profound, but the cultural effects might be more significant.
The darker side could involve anti-Scotish feelings against Scots living in England ("they have their own country now, why don’t they go and live there”), though I suspect that will always be a marginal view. A more benign effect could be the rehabilitation of Englishness: for a long time the English have been encouraged to view themselves primarily as British, but that can’t really survive the splitting up of Britain. Whether it leads to jingoism or a new flowering of national identity only time will tell.
As for my qualifications to comment on the matter, I’m a British citizen long resident in the US, though I view the UK mostly as an outsider nowadays.
3) From a Yank in Scotland:
A quick biography: I'm an American living in Fife in Scotland. I'm married to an American man of Scottish descent.. My father-in-law has "Remember Culloden!" as his email signature, all of us have an array of clothing items in the family tartan, and my in-laws attend clan gatherings. (You can insert commentary here on Americans, often of Irish or Scottish descent, who become more Irish than the Irish, so to speak.)
As Americans we can't vote in the referendum, though of course we've been following it with keen interest. As a practical matter, we're here on UK visas, not Scottish ones -- though the nationalists all assure us that of course that will be sorted out if independence passes. (The nationalists do a great deal of reassuring that all manner of things will be sorted out if independence passes.)
Daniel Clinkman is right that the UK is a unitary system, not a federalist one. That said, practically speaking Scotland already functions like a quasi-federalist entity.
Scotland maintains a separate NHS system from England and Wales, separate legal and education systems, and offers different benefits to Scottish residents. It has a separate National Trust and Historic Scotland structure (similar to national parks and monuments system). School holidays and bank holidays are different in England and Scotland. Under the current structure, the UK government funds Scottish universities, which Scottish residents can attend for free but which English residents must pay fees to attend....
I don't disagree with Clinkman about the division between Scotland and England and the center-left versus center-right. I think it's a bit more complicated than that, because northern England tends to align more with Scotland.
It's more accurate to say that Scotland and most of northern England hate London and the dominance of southern England. (You find a similar phenomenon in how upstate New York hates New York City, and northwest Pennsylvania hates Philadelphia, etc.)
But it's also complicated by this tenuous notion of "Scots." The Islanders often think of themselves as from Lewis, Harris, or Shetland before they think of themselves as from Scotland. Many of the Highlanders don't trust Edinburgh much more than they trust Westminster -- with good historical reason. Many in Shetland don't want a government in Edinburgh to determine the use of their oil revenue. I'm reminded of the old saw: "What unites the Scots? Hating the English." Take away the English, and you just might take away Scottish unity, too.
I've talked to many Scots around the country about the referendum, and my informal polling results are this: Islanders almost unanimously oppose independence. The highlanders support independence cautiously. Glaswegians support independence enthusiastically. And others would love to no longer be ruled from Westminster, but they are unsure that the current leadership of the SNP [Scottish National Party] could actually form a good government in Edinburgh that would result in positive benefits for Scotland.
As one man in Aviemore told me, "Remember Culloden?? What you have to remember was that Culloden was a civil war, not a war between the English and the Scots. The Highland Clearances were a nasty, brutal thing -- but before that we clans were already nasty and brutal toward each other. There were no schools in the Highlands before the Clearances, no health care, no roads. The English are terrible, but we've been better off with them than without them."
I think the best thing that could happen for Scotland is the way things are currently trending: The polls are close, Westminster freaks out and offers additional concessions to the SNP for control of fiscal policy, unity wins by a hair, and Scotland stays in the UK but with greater autonomy than before.
4) From a mere bystander:
I have absolutely no skin in the Scottish independence game, which means I get to watch and be fascinated without any pride vested in either side winning.
That being said, I noticed that Quartz ran a Scottish independence story today, and included a link to a writer playing a bit dirty in his rhetorical spin against independence. [JF note: This was the "Russians are coming!" piece mentioned above.] ...
If we can define the moral high ground, or rather Highlands, by whose side is using dirty logical tactics, the answer is fairly evident from this sample size of one. (see further here)
Voters in Scotland, over to you. I would have said "People of Scotland..." but in fact the vote is also open to EU and U.K. citizens who are living in Scotland, whether officially Scottish or not.
"A majority of Scots want to live in a center-left society, while a majority of English want to live in a center-right society." Why that may be a bigger problem for the United Kingdom than regional splits are for the United States.
This man is a Scottish-American. So am I. Any questions? (Reuters)
We all have our tribal loyalties and identities, usually starting with our family. For me, after my family, they would be:
tribal identity as an American, based on the years outside the country that sharpened my sense of being from and of the United States;
tribal loyalty as part of the Atlantic family, as I near the 40th anniversary of my first article for the magazine (a profile of the then-presidential aspirant Sen. Lloyd Bentsen, of Texas);
tribal identity as a Californian, through years of living on the other side of the country; and
identity as a Scot, my mother's Mackenzie lineage being the largest single part of my motley background. (Plus, Neanderthal pride.)
Thus I've followed news of the upcoming referendum on independence for Scotland with a combination of "damned right!" romanticism on behalf of the plucky Scots and practical-minded questions about what would happen if the vote went through.
In our travels across the country this past year, my wife Deb and I have met a surprisingly large sample of vacationing or expatriated Scots. Most of them have said that (a) they didn't expect the measure to pass, but (b) they secretly hoped it would.
Here is a message today from Daniel Clinkman, an American who has been living in Scotland. He makes the case that the right-brain/left-brain split in sentiment about the vote—romanticism versus practicality—is not as clear as I have thought:
I'm an American who returned this year from seven years living in the UK, six of those years in Scotland. While I am personally pro-independence, my friends are about equally split between nationalists and unionists, and I see the merits of both sides. I think, though, that the nationalist position is unfairly portrayed in the American media, and I'd like to offer some thoughts on that.
I think it is fair to say that, regardless of the outcome of the independence referendum, the results of the the 2010 general election and the 2011 Scottish election show that the majority of Scots want something different from the majority of English. This has been a trend that began in the 1970s and opened wider and wider over the subsequent decades. A majority of Scots want to live in a center-left society, while a majority of English want to live in a center-right society.
In a federal state this would not be a problem. The domestic policies, discord over which forms the backbone of the nationalist movement, would be the responsibility of the constituent countries of the UK, and Scots could run their internal affairs without hindrance. But the UK is not a federal state, it is a unitary state with sovereignty and legislative authority resting in the Crown-in-Parliament. The authority of the Holyrood parliament is tenuous and could be curtailed or rescinded at any time, without judicial review.
The best case scenario would be devo-max or the federalization of the UK, but Westminster would not allow either to be on the referendum ballot. The prospect of full scale constitutional reform is not even under consideration outside of a few Lib Dem committee meetings. Scots have been put in a position where the status quo is unacceptable to them, and in which viable alternatives - devo-max and federalization - have been expressly refused as options. It is often said that, if devo-max were on the ballot, it would win. It isn't on the ballot, because Westminster knew that and hoped that by denying a third choice, Scots would choose the status quo. Is that manipulation the kind of government you would want to live under?
[In other exchanges] you have mentioned that Scottish nationalism is both emotional and rational. I agree.
On the rational side, Scots are concerned about the science of politics. In the meetings I attended when I lived in Edinburgh, there was great interest in the location of sovereignty and of legislative authority, as well as in the mechanics of governance. There is genuine interest in how to rationalize Scottish governance and make it better. You never hear this in the accounts of Scottish nationalism, which usually emphasize the emotional.
But emotion is also a strength. Scots are proud people and desire to control their own affairs, which they can't under a unitary state with parliamentary sovereignty. Such pride and desire for self-sufficiency is admirable. The combination of emotional and rational thinking gives Scottish nationalism strength and durability.
You mentioned that that rationalism on political science needs to be contrasted with rational approaches to scale, currency, military, etc. I don't really see how the nationalist approach is irrational on those issues. One nationalist advocacy group, Nordic Horizons, is devoted to how Scotland can adopt Scandinavian models of governance, the Scandinavian countries being of similar population size and scale to Scotland. On the currency, I imagine that Scotland will continue to use the UK pound temporarily, after which it will probably restore the Scottish pound, which it would make sense to peg to the UK pound and gradually ween off of. On the military, Scotland will not need a large military force. Its greatest need will be for a navy or coast guard to secure its territorial waters. This will be expensive to set up but it is hardly an insurmountable obstacle.
A lot of this gets misconstrued in the press. Last night I got into a lengthy twitter back and forth with [another writer], who was asking lots of skeptical questions about independence and accusing nationalists of not having considered them. I directed him to the Scottish government's white paper on independence, which addressed all of his concerns, which he then dismissed as having not taken up thirty seconds of thought. That's a false aspersion on Scots nationalists, and is an example of the same kind of condescension to Scots that has alienated that country from the UK. He is not alone in this - he enjoys the good company of much of the British press and many North Americans too.
So that's my take on the matter. I am not Scottish, but the country became my home for many years and I am passionately in favor of what is best for Scotland's people, whatever they decide. I think that the activism and thought given to this by Scots of both nationalist and unionist persuasions is very different from the stereotype of the emotional, skiving Scot put out by the Better Together campaign and its sympathizers in the press.
I'm not intending to host an extended exchange on the pluses and minuses of the vote, which are being thrashed out thoroughly by those with a voice in the matter. But I am watching with fascination.
This model of locomotive is slightly before my time, but otherwise it's a childhood scene I recall. (
If you're joining us late, this is No. 11in the roman fleuve known as the California High-Speed Rail series. HSR is of course a major part of Gov. Jerry Brown's legacy and platform as he runs for an unprecedented fourth term. We'll wrap things up by the time we get to No. 15. For previous installments see No. 1, No. 2, No. 3, No. 4, No. 5, No. 6, No. 7, No. 8, and No. 9, and No. 10.
Today's theme is "thinking in time," after the title of a wonderful book by my one-time professors and longer-term mentors Ernest May and Richard Neustadt. In our previous installment, a former Federal official wrote about the difficulty of thinking about effects, good and bad, will be felt only decades in the future. Now readers address the question of considering the future.
1) "If we refuse to embrace the unknown, we will remain inert." From a reader in the South:
In Richmond, VA, I'm involved in historic re-enactments. (One of my many lives involves acting). I'm currently studying for a re-enactment of the Virginia debates over the ratification of the Constitution in 1788, involving Patrick Henry, Peyton Randolph, James Madison and George Wythe. And one of the themes in the debate is whether the existence of defects in the Constitution as proposed should result in its defeat, or whether they could rely upon the goodwill and intentions of those involved to remedy defects as they occur; especially whether to ratify on the assumption that the Bill of Rights would be enacted, or to forestall the entire enterprise to achievesome unattainable level of perfection.
On one side Patrick Henry assumes that the scoundrels will usurp the individual liberties for which they had recently fought bloody battles.
The argument on the other side excoriates the opponents for supposing that the general legislature will do everything mischievous they possibly can, and that they will omit to do everything good which they are authorized to do. In essence it is a plea to recognize that the people will rest their authority in the hands of representatives of goodwill: It is more reasonable to assume that they will as readily do their duty as deviate from it.
It's important to make sure that we have people of goodwill and good talent. There will be things unforeseen; there will be things foreseen which won't materialize. The human mind is incapable of embracing the totality of circumstances. And the failures fade, as the inherent goodness of the works remain.
I really wonder whether the people of Boston drive through the Big Dig wishing it had never been built. Do the people complaining of the Oakland Bay Bridge desire that it not be replaced? Do we assume that the project was handed over to a bunch of incredible dolts? Or is it a massively complex piece of engineering, undoubtedly with issues which were not foreseen?
Yes, there are the failures, and they happen as frequently in private enterprise as they do in government. But if we refuse to embrace the unknown, and refuse to forgive that which was not attained, then we will remain inert.
And in that vein, I give you our contemporary Congress where there are too many people who are not of goodwill who have lost sight of the purposes of the Union. A republic depends upon people of goodwill doing the work of the people... Shining a light on one such important work is extremely valuable to that end.
2) "It's our familiar combination of anarchy and oligarchy." From a reader in northern California
I'm not sure how to deal with this, but it's actually not uncommon. Several studies and stories of past Big Projects (levee systems, aqueducts, even the transcontinental railroads) show that Americans in general can't see beyond the tips of their noses in terms of planning and financing Big Things.
That's something we have to live with in this country: we are not Europe or Japan, where even under "democratic" systems with parliaments and the like the overall government and economic structure remains aristocratic with a strong sense of national identity and vision.
Comparisons to Europe don't work here, because we have a combination of anarchy and oligarchy, neither of which cares about the long term. Trying to show that it'll be better for the kids or grandkids doesn't fly well; it's what you're doing for me today or next week, or perhaps (for a corporation) over the next quarter to at most a year.
3) "A century is nothing!" Last time around I said that infrastructure decisions were so crucial because "people will be living with their consequences a century from now." A reader in Massachusetts says that's a gross under-statement:
a) The Erie Canal opened in 1825. By 1842, its entire route had a railroad. Nevertheless, I understand it’s the big reason that the Northern tier of New York is lined with cities, while the central and Southern corridors are lined with cute little villages.
b) Property values in Manhattan are, to a considerable extent, dominated by the placement of subway lines. Many of those lines, coincidentally, were laid out in part by real-estate speculators. Chicago’s Loop is all about rails, literally.
c) The street grids of most cities bear scars from odd or arbitrary choices made long ago, but which continue to influence the way the city moves and works. San Francisco’s street grid collision at Market Street is one obvious example. The inability of 19thC engineering to get rid of Boston’s Muddy River means that Back Bay, that very tony residential neighborhood, ends abruptly in The Fens, Fenway Park, and the commercial clatter of downscale Kenmore Square. Just to the South, the memory of a short-lived railroad bridge, filled in and vanished for a century and a half, firmly divides downtown from the south end. In Chicago, Clark and Broadway divide at Diversey because that’s where two trails diverged back before 1830.
Even big parties cast a long shadow. Paris 1889, Chicago 1983, San Diego 1915 — what would Paris be without the Eiffel Tower, Chicago without Grant Park (and the Art Institute) and Jefferson Park (and the Museum of Science And Industry, the Columbian Exposition’s palace of fine art), or San Diego without Balboa Park?
d) And why is Boston a city at all? Boston existed for its harbor, just as Salem (once far more important) did. Salem’s Harbor silted up, and then people discovered that while Boston Harbor freezes only once a generation, New York Harbor never freezes. Once that was clear, the ships all moved to New York, yet Boston remained.
e) The Oregon Trail and the Santa Fe Trail were shaped for technologies that vanished long, long ago — and actually were useful for only a brief time. Their routes continue to shape the West. Some of this is geography, but only some.
4) "The number is just too big." The same California reader as in the second point, above, on the distinct challenge of understanding large multi-year costs:
People think of a $68 billion (or whatever— something *10E09) as a lot of money. That's because the vast majority of people in this country get along one way less than $100K a year (more like <$50K) [JF note: median US household income is a little above $50,000] and just can't conceive of anything that can or should cost that much.
They also see that as money spent right now, not over 20+ years. Doesn't matter whether it's current dollars or inflated - the number is just too big.
I understand, because I worked for 40 years in various forms of land use and environmental and transportation planning, that the $68 B inflated number over 20 years is real but phony at the same time: real because you can explain how you got it using standard financial analysis, and because Federal financial planning requirements now insist that such a number be provided; but phony because it is based on a ton of assumptions that will have to change as time goes on.
We have the same problem with regional traffic and emission projections over 20 years. The number could go up or down (though most of the time it goes up), so you have a regular update process to adjust things. Also, the general public, if they think about it at all, see the $68 B as what they will have to pay in taxes for this thing - with some justification considering how transportation in general has played out over the years, though they don't see it that way for things like roads that they use every day.
Yes, yes, I am aware that Rashōmon is a Japanese reference, and we're talking about events in China. But bear with me—at the moment it's a convenient shorthand for the contradictory possibilities, and the unknowable underlying reality, of events that are important but not fully understood. If you'd prefer, you could think of this as Heisenberg Comes to Hong Kong.
Two days ago I mentioned some of the downbeat political and economic news out of China, mainly involving challenges for the economy and the continued tightening of political controls under the hoped-for reform leader Xi Jinping. Now three representative reactions from readers in and around China:
1) “Stop being such a downer.” From a reader based in the U.S. who often does business in China:
Please don't do this if you can help it. For years, you were the guy bringing out ideas. Now, not so much.
I know how many bad stories there are. My family provides them. I see them. There are plenty of folks to point out the obvious.
It is only stories that everyone knows. You're reinforcing ideas already in peoples heads.
There's no lack of forecasters predicting doom for China. It's the story Westerners like best.
There are better and more interesting stories.
The stories that get written are the ones already in Westerners heads. Everything is viewed thru the Western lens. No one is writing from a Chinese view. I understand why. It's anathema. One would be outcast.
Folks think it's a billion people yearning to be free. It's more like a billion people wanting clean air, an apartment, a retirement home that's not a shithole, fashionable clothes.
But those are stories that run counter to Western canon on China.
I recently did a trip across Hubei and Hunan that was (sort of) like your trip across the US. The overall vibe was positive. It's a different picture of China than folks in the US get.
2) “The reality is downcast right now, and you might as well say so.” From a foreigner who has lived in China for the past 10+ years and has been involved in the music business there:
I've spent more time in Hong Kong of late, as my wife and I are planning to return to the US after many years in China, and we're organizing our affairs in Hong Kong as an intermediate on our way back to the US.
The situation for music became so dismal in China that I finally decided to give up the endeavor altogether. Our last several live shows were tampered with in a very heavy-handed way by the gov't: we were forbidden from performing certain songs at the last minute and not permitted to substitute others for them, our show times were moved around at the last minute, and our appearances even spliced out of videos of the events. I concluded that it was no use trying to fight these (invisible) forces, and we decided that it would be best for us to move back to the US and focus on a future there.
It's a sad day. I remember the overwhelming sense of optimism among my Chinese friends when I first moved to China [more than ten years ago]. The sense then was that the genuine opening up of China was inevitable, and everyone (I'm speaking of my Chinese friends and colleagues and not expats) had the sense that the heavy hand that had been upon them for so long was finally lifting.
Now my sense is that optimism is all but gone. The strident nationalism is no substitute; it brings a certain angry determination but almost none of the spontaneous optimism that was so evident a decade ago. I feel so sorry for China's artists and scientists, who are not only very talented, but who will suffer both in career and in reputation because of forces in the country that are beyond their control
On the bright side, things are looking up for the US, and my (uninformed) guess is that roughly speaking as China spirals into more and more economic peril because of its dubious policy choices, it will be much to the benefit of the US economy, as people from China and elsewhere flock toward the West generally and the US in particular in search of the optimism that they can no longer find in China.
3) “Things are good and bad at the same time.” From someone formerly of Hong Kong, now in the U.S.:
As an ex-Hongkonger, I am of course as disappointed and frustrated as many are at Beijing's decision not to allow direct election of our Chief Executive. However, being a determined optimist, I see this as a cup half-full.
First , let's remember that the British government has never allowed any sort of elections for the CEO (Governor) of Hong Kong, or India, or any of its former colonies (including the United States) in its long and shameful history of colonialism either, as every Chinese mainlander will tirelessly remind you. So no one can deny that indirect election as now proposed is definitely a step forward.
Second, I propose we should view the CEO of Hongkong not as equivalent to the US President, but as a US Supreme Court Justice, who is also nominated by the party in power and not elected by the people. What this means is that as long as the CEO candidates nominated by China maintain their independence after the elections, we are in good shape.
Hongkongers need to find an Earl Warren, who seemed to toe the party line before nomination but who turned out to be a defender of civil rights. Whether such a candidate can be found is a test of the moral integrity and courage of Hongkong's elites. Whether Beijing will acquiesce in his/her subsequent independence will be a test of its good faith. But as things stand right now, a bad outcome is not a foregone conclusion.
All these accounts are true. After the jump, a quote from China Airborne on the necessity and difficulty of accepting such contradictions.
The red circles show typical 30-mile-radius no-fly zones that accompany a president, in this case one centered on Martha's Vineyard and one over Otis Air National Guard base on Cape Cod. (FAA Sectional Chart)
I believe I am the only amateur pilot who’s a Democrat. Okay, I'm exaggerating. I can think of four others. No, five! Therefore when people in the aviation community talk about the effect of “Presidential TFRs”—the 30-mile-radius no-fly zones, known as Temporary Flight Restrictions, that travel with a president wherever he is—they often begin by saying, “Welcome to Obama's America ...” or “That idiot Obama has done it again...” The complaints started some other way between 2001 and 2009.
Politics apart, I give you this account from someone who flies the same kind of small propeller airplane as I do, but who happens to live in the vicinity of the Clinton-and-Obama-preferred summer vacation site of Martha’s Vineyard. He originally posted this on a pilots’ private-discussion board but agreed to its reposting here. I've added a few explanations of aviation lingo in brackets, [like this]. This person, who uses his plane to fly himself on business trips, writes:
I just spent the last two weeks living with the presidential TFR on Martha’s Vineyard. I flew through the TFR nearly every day, commuting to work and with other activities. Unlike past years, I did it mostly VFR, IFR days excepting, of course. [VFR is Visual Flight Rules, the clear-sky conditions in which pilots set their own courses. Under IFR, Instrument Flight Rules, pilots file flight plans in advance and must follow controllers' instructions on course, altitude, etc.]
In the past years when the president was on the Vineyard, I filed IFR every day to go through the outer ring. [The farther-out part of the the 30-mile-radius space, where you need prior approval to fly. The inner ring, usually with 10-mile radius, is much more tightly controlled.] That’s a major PITA, especially when it’s clear skies.
This year, on the first day of the TFR, I phoned Cape Approach [local Air Traffic Controllers, or ATC] and talked to one of the controllers and asked him what was the best way from their perspective and he said just to call Cape Clearance from Chatham on the ground (CQX [Chatham airport] is untowered) and get a squawk code and that would be fine. [Squawk code is a four-digit code you enter in the plane's transponder, which lets controllers watching radar screens know which plane is which.] Cape Approach’s perspective was that if you are squawking a code and talking to them, you are fine in the outer ring ...
In the interest of caution and even though I had been given the guidance from Cape Approach, I diligently followed the NOTAM [Notice to Airmen, the equivalent of "now hear this" bulletins] and filed and activated a VFR flight plan every day from Foreflight [a popular and excellent iPad-based flight planning program] when flying VFR.
1. VFR flight plans are useless for the TFR. [A VFR flight plan is mainly useful as a search-and-rescue safeguard, so people know where you were intending to go and when, if you don't show up.] Boston Approach stated as much when he alluded to “entering you in the system” as I was picking up flight following on the way home one day. I told him I had a VFR flight plan open, if that saved him some work and he responded to the effect that it wasn’t enough. You need to be in “the system” [in the system = filing identifying info for the plane and pilot, along with intended route and timing for this specific flight, in the ATC system] and added “you don’t want to mess with them”....
2. Controllers get as nervous as we do. I wonder if there are Secret Service or others sitting in the ATC facility? ATC gets extremely nervous when the president is on the move. At one point, he left the Vineyard and went back to D.C. for a day and this started another TFR centered on Otis (FMH), and creates lots of uncertainty, since he is rarely on time and the TFR times drift. [The image at the top shows airspace when both TFRs are in effect.] I knew this was happening and planned to avoid the FMH inner 10 mile ring already. The controller was very jumpy, asked me my heading and told me he would advise. I let him know I was “direct GAILS [a GPS navigation point], if that helps” which kept me outside the ring. He said “Thank you” and never bothered me again, after an audible exhale.
3. Lots of pilots are clueless. At one point, ATC asked me if I had a visual on somebody low and slow, squawking 1200. [1200 is the transponder code for planes flying visually and not necessarily talking with controllers. Planes inside the TFR should not be using this code.] I never saw him, but I did see the flash of sunlight off the wings of the orbiting F-16’s from miles out as they turned to investigate. I never heard what happened. Lots of pilots stumble into the area unaware of the TFR. How can this be? There were too many forehead-smacking moments as I listened to the daily dance. We as pilots have to do better.
4. Actually going to the Vineyard (MVY) [MVY is Vineyard Haven airport, on the island] inside the inner ring is a “whole 'nuther thing”. Yesterday, we went to visit friends who were staying on the Vineyard, and rather than take the ferry for 90 minutes, I decided we would just fly. Made the reservation at Hyannis with the TSA, per the NOTAM and made the 4-minute flight to HYA from CQX [Chatham to Hyannis] for our “check.”
Wow, what an employment spectacle that was. We were directed to a holding area and a bus was sent to pick us up, after waiting in the plane for some time. The plane was fully unloaded of luggage and we and our bags were taken to a temporary screening area where the bags were searched by hand. We were all frisked/wanded. My plane was inspected by another person. I gave pertinent information to others seated with laptops, who were talking to ATC and passing the approvals on. Eventually, they determined that the duffel bags of lunches, sweatshirts, frisbees, and suntan lotion posed a low security risk.
An hour after landing, we were loaded back on the bus and dropped at the plane to repack it, and get started again for the 10-minute flight from HYA to MVY. [Hyannis to Vineyard Haven.] How to make a 15-minute flight into 2 hours? With the TSA, anything is possible. In the end, the screening experience left me disappointed that I had to go to such great lengths to fly my airplane within 10 miles of another fellow citizen on my way to the beach. We, as a nation, are very afraid of airplanes. Sigh.
5. ATC were great to work with throughout. They were absolute professionals.
6. The amount of hardware and manpower mobilized to support this vacation are incredible. I flew out of the Vineyard last night at 10pm after the TFR had been lifted and saw the exodus of all the supporting cast. Multiple C-5’s taking off for Andrews, two Ospreys, four F-16’s, Coast Guard and State Police helicopters, and more. It was breathtaking and concerning.
There are multiple businesses that are effectively shut down during the vacation TFR. There is a skydiving outfit at Marston Mills that is in the outer ring, along with some banner towing that stops operations. More impacted are the businesses on the Vineyard. The usual weekend line of planes landing for breakfast on the Vineyard are gone, for sure, but the biggest hit is the grass airfield at Katama. There is a great breakfast place there, bi-plane rides and across the road is the open beach of the Atlantic. Katama hosts dozens of planes on any given summer day. That entire thing shuts down. I wonder if the restaurant owners, bi-plane operator, skydiving businesses, FBO's etc. are compensated? It's a huge hit for these businesses at what is basically prime time of the summer vacation on Cape Cod.
Life on the Cape has returned to normal. Until next year.
There is a larger, stricter, and permanent version of these controls sitting over Washington, D.C. airspace all the time. Presidential campaign season is a nightmare for the air-traffic system, because rolling no-fly zones accompany the incumbent president (and sometimes smaller ones for challengers) during campaign travels. Here is what an Obama bus trip in the industrial Midwest did to airspace two years ago:
The big red circles in Michigan and Ohio were for currently active TFRs. The yellow circles were for ones about to go into effect. The big red one over D.C. is the permanent zone there. The little yellow one just above it is Camp David. Here is a post from a pilot who was flying at the time of that TFR.
I am not making a sweeping policy point here. As far as policy points go, anyone who knows the history of the 1960s understands that it is genuinely important to protect presidents from threat of mortal harm. (How would the history of that era differed if John F. Kennedy had stayed in office? Or a century earlier, if Abraham Lincoln had?) Anyone who knows America understands why Barack Obama has required even more protection than most of his predecessors. I am very glad the Secret Service has done its job as effectively as it has.
Instead this is offered as a specimen of the operating realities of our security state—many of which persist precisely because they don't come to public attention. Are these 60-mile-wide shutdowns the least obtrusive way of realizing the legitimate national goal of protecting a president? They seem excessive to me, though of course I'm biased. But the next time some president asks me for advice on where to summer, I'll suggest: Look for a place that won't snarl life and shut down business for millions of people who happen to live there. Maybe even a place like ... the outskirts of Waco?