Our Energy Future
In May’s cover story, Charles C. Mann asked, “What If We Never Run Out of Oil?” His discussion of methane hydrates and their potential effect on the environment and geopolitics prompted many responses on TheAtlantic.com and in the magazine’s inbox. It also generated an online discussion among several experts, including Amory Lovins, the chief scientist at the Rocky Mountain Institute; Michael A. Levi, of the Council on Foreign Relations; and Mann himself. You can read the whole discussion at theatlantic.com/debates/fossil-fuel.
Charles Mann points out that the changeover to renewable energy “has to occur now, faster than any change before,” if we are to respond intelligently to climate change. He is dumbfounded to hear left and right alike bemoaning the “reality” that society can’t change.
Plenty of studies show that a rapid shift is possible. A U.S. Department of Energy study says: “Renewable electricity generation from technologies that are commercially available today, in combination with a more flexible electric system, is more than adequate to supply 80% of total U.S. electricity generation in 2050.”
Our grandparents stopped producing cars and shifted the full weight of American manufacturing to defeating Hitler. Our parents risked their lives and demanded political action to advance civil rights. Now, when the very livability of the planet is at stake, is a poor time to become fatalistic.
Charles C. Mann left out the use of nuclear power as a source of electricity. Nuclear power is safe. Nobody has died of radiation from nuclear power plants in the U.S. or western Europe. And although 19,000 people drowned in the March 2011 tsunami, the Fukushima disaster hasn’t killed anybody. The Chernobyl meltdown was deadly, but no sane institution would build a similar plant today.
Nuclear power does not produce air pollution or greenhouse gases. And if the world had the wit to massively adopt it, nuclear power would gradually raise the cost of uranium, now cheap, to such heights as to economically compel the conversion of weapons into reactor fuel. Think of it: no air pollution, no global warming, no nuclear weapons.
Professor of Physics and Astronomy, University of New Mexico
Charles C. Mann replies:
I agree with Katie Davis that now is a poor time to be fatalistic. But in some ways I think the dice have been cast. Nuclear power is one of those cases. As Kevin Cahill says, I entirely left out the use of nuclear power. It seems to me that the world has chosen, for better or worse, not to use nuclear power. Germany is shutting down its nuclear plants. Several are under construction in the United States—the first new nuclear plants in more than three decades—but all are already delayed, over budget, or both. For nuclear power to play a major role in resolving climate change, the pace of introduction would have to be much, much faster than anything now envisioned.
Response to Robert D. Kaplan’s defense of Henry Kissinger (“The Statesman,” May) ranged from appreciative to incredulous to angry. Henry Flood, a reader from Aventura, Florida, said the examination of the secretary of state’s legacy was “long overdue.” Isaac Chotiner, meanwhile, writing for The New Republic, said Kaplan was in “full-on apologetics mode,” and was propounding an “absurd,” “confusing” argument with an “inherent logical flaw.”
This is powerful stuff, a direct challenge to much of the thinking that passes for conventional wisdom these days, particularly on the left. Kaplan’s article is primarily about Kissinger and his place in history, which the writer believes will generate ever-greater respect with the march of time and the added perspective that time engenders. But it is also very much about fundamental foreign-policy principles—how great nations such as the United States navigate through the shoals of an angry world. “Realism,” writes Kaplan, “is about the ultimate moral ambition in foreign policy: the avoidance of war through a favorable balance of power.” That was the Kissingerian perspective, seen through countless actions and decisions over eight tumultuous and ultimately successful years in American global policy making.
Robert W. Merry Excerpt from a National Interest blog post
For Kissinger’s critics, the heart of the matter will always be Vietnam, where his policies produced the highest body count and violated his own realist principles. Kaplan, between British history lessons and Jimmy Carter–bashing, alternately defends Kissinger’s Vietnam policy as coldly realist and, using Kissinger’s own words, secretly idealist.
Kaplan’s whole defense relies on a tough endorsement of cold realpolitik, but he favorably highlights Kissinger’s sentimental idealism whenever it pops up—particularly regarding Vietnam, where Communist atrocities and a missionary zeal for liberal democracy are, for Kissinger and Kaplan, acceptable justifications for aggression.
But by 1968, it was clear to even some hardened realists that the war was damaging U.S. foreign policy, that it was not strengthening our position in the Cold War, and that the cost in human life was disproportionate to our aims (a factor Kaplan considers when discussing Chile, where far fewer died).
Kaplan is correct that Kissinger and President Nixon inherited the war, and that their painfully slow withdrawal of U.S. troops may well have been less damaging to U.S. interests in Asia than a hasty withdrawal would have been (although the bombing campaigns and civilian deaths that accompanied our gradual withdrawal undercut America’s moral credibility throughout the world—not a purely idealistic consideration). But dragging the war into the 1970s substantially weakened the Nixon administration’s credibility within the U.S., a consideration Kissinger obviously did not factor into his realist calculations. His belief that “a collapse of presidential authority” was unforeseeable after the 1972 electoral landslide demonstrates the limits of his domestic analysis, a dangerous blind spot in a nation where domestic and foreign policy are often inseparable.
Among Robert Kaplan’s outrageous assertions, one stands out most odiously: that the U.S. was drawn into the Vietnam conflict out of a “sense of mission” coming from “the same well of idealism that helped us fight World War II.”
No reasonable comparison can be made between the Gulf of Tonkin incident, which spurred the U.S. troop buildup and which even Robert McNamara admitted never happened, and the attack on Pearl Harbor. Public support remained steady for the war against Germany and Japan, but Kaplan understates how it ebbed as the Vietnam conflict dragged on. What’s tragic, though, is American policy makers’ habit of superimposing Hitler’s face on the foreign dictators they want us to hate.
I have great respect for Robert Kaplan as a journalist, but as a historian, not so much. The problem with trying to portray Henry Kissinger as some kind of moral exemplar is that there are too many of us still alive who saw the man in action in the 1960s and ’70s. If revisionist historians 100 years from now want to reevaluate Kissinger’s legacy, I will be gone and unable to set the record straight, but right now I’m here, so I stand with the innocent victims in Cambodia, Chile, and East Timor in demanding to see Kissinger tried as a war criminal.
San Jose, Calif.
The first paragraph of “The Statesman” contradicts the theme of the article. It reports Mr. Kissinger’s support for the invasion of Iraq even though he was “concerned about the lack of critical thinking and planning for the occupation” of the country. That is, laying aside the moral issue, he supported jumping into a boiling cauldron even though there was no rational plan for surviving the plunge and emerging with the cauldron cooled and calmed.
Most people would not call that an act of a great statesman; they would call it simply foolhardy.
James Van Vliet
I’m well versed in the significance of national interest, as expounded by Robert Kaplan—my own understanding of foreign policy was shaped primarily by Hans Morgenthau. But I am also aware of a besetting flaw well illustrated by Henry Kissinger: that a statesman operating strictly on the concept of national interest will prefer to deal with a reliable dictator rather than with a democratic type of government, which is always subject to governmental change and popular influence. Kissinger—unlike Lord Palmerston, by the way—doesn’t seem to have made any effort to take this built-in inclination into account. If the freely elected government of Salvador Allende was indeed “anarchic and incompetent,” the first thought of statesmen elsewhere might have been that it was up to Chilean voters, and not a military coup empowered by foreign countries, to correct this. But of course it was so much easier for Kissinger to deal with murderous but secure tyrants than with the unavoidable vagaries of free democratic procedure.
New York, N.Y.
America’s entry into Vietnam had origins prior to the Gulf of Tonkin affair. The context was the height of the Cold War, seen at the time as a twilight struggle with no end. Eastern Europe, as I wrote, constituted a vast prison yard of subject peoples beset by Communist-inflicted poverty. In Asia, Mao Zedong was completing the Great Leap Forward, which may have killed 20 million people. So yes, idealism was an element in seeking to prevent the fall of South Vietnam to Communist rule, however tragic the war may have later turned out to be.
Had we planned adequately for the post-invasion phase, as Kissinger wanted, the Iraq War might well have been less tragic and foolhardy. To believe that events in Iraq would have turned out exactly as they did no matter the planning, or lack thereof, is determinism.
How Not to Die
In May, Jonathan Rauch described a doctor’s efforts to make films designed to “change the way you die.”
As a potential dementia patient (who isn’t?), I feel threatened by Dr. Angelo Volandes. His videos show a dementia patient with a “vacant” face, but where are the videos of dementia patients happily listening to music? His videos show tube feeding, but where are the videos of patients being fed by hand? His videos show CPR, but where are the videos of patients gasping for breath without CPR? Many medical procedures look pretty brutal; would Dr. Volandes show videos of killed fetuses to women who are contemplating abortion? Would he show videos of vomiting chemotherapy recipients to cancer patients who are contemplating chemotherapy?
“The Conversation” about end-of-life treatment can be valuable if it is conducted without an agenda. It should not be orchestrated by a doctor who has already decided that life-prolonging care for advanced-dementia patients is “a form of abuse” and who measures his success by his ability to convince patients “not to want a lot of the aggressive stuff they’re getting.”
Felicia Nimue Ackerman
Professor of Philosophy, Brown University
Unfortunately, Felicia Nimue Ackerman misrepresents Angelo Volandes’s views. What he actually said was: “When people get good communication and understand what’s involved, many, if not most, tend not to want a lot of the aggressive stuff that they’re getting.” He believes not that providing life-prolonging treatment to advanced-dementia patients is abusive, but that it is unconscionable to give patients treatments that, if fully informed, they might not want. He may be right or wrong, but Ackerman’s misquotation is a good example of why the subject is so hard to discuss.
A MORE PERFECT POLL
In March, Molly Ball reported on the growing prevalence of online political polling.
“A More Perfect Poll” contains two inaccuracies that have come to the attention of The New York Times.
Our polling standards, which were updated in 2011—not 2006, as Molly Ball wrote—are something that we work hard to update and enforce. We constantly keep abreast of advancements in our field and change our standards when there are solid methodological reasons to do so. We closely follow all research done by the American Association for Public Opinion and its members.
In addition, Ms. Ball’s belief that The New York Times “refuses to cite Internet-based polls in its news reporting” is incorrect. We judge every poll on a case-by-case basis with our reporters, and we certainly allow the use of any survey conducted online with a probability sample—meaning that every adult in the United States has a chance of being contacted by that poll.
Our decision to exclude nonprobability online opt-in panels from our news coverage is consistent with the association’s recommendations that “researchers should avoid nonprobability online panels when one of the research objectives is to accurately estimate population values.”
Until there is a preponderance of evidence from academic studies proving that opt-in online polls can accurately measure public opinion, we will continue to eschew reporting on these nonprobability surveys.
We were disappointed that Ms. Ball did not contact us directly to discuss her article prior to publication. Incidentally, The Washington Post
, whose polling director was quoted in the article, has standards regarding Internet surveys similar to ours. The New York Times
’ polling standards can be found at www.nytimes.com/polls
Deputy Editor, News Surveys
The New York Times
New York, N.Y.
There are no inaccuracies in the article. The New York Times did reissue its polling standards in 2011; the 203-word section therein titled “Internet and Opt-In Polls” is identical, word for word, with the 2006 version of the document. Hence, it is correct to say those standards have not been revised since 2006.
Those standards also clearly state that polls that recruit respondents online are not publishable in The Times. Megan Thee-Brenan admits this; the “probability sample” to which she refers is not achievable with “online opt-in panels.” A poll that recruits respondents by telephone and then logs their responses online might meet her standard, but that would not be a pure online poll of the type I described. Such a poll would, additionally, fall prey to the problem that I described online polls as trying to solve: low telephone response rates.
Thee-Brenan is certainly correct to note that this is not a defect unique to The Times. As I wrote in the article, the political media—unlike the corporate world, which has embraced online research—have been “cautious, even hidebound, about changing their polling standards in recent years.”
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