Tag Archives: Canada

A Heritage Script, but the Performance is all Trump

Trump’s actions seem to come with little input or deliberation.

Descriptions of the various forms of presidential leadership usually include several basic patterns. A President can lead by deliberating with various stakeholders in and out of government. It is clear The Heritage Foundation headquartered a short walk from the Capitol almost always has ear of this president. But is doubtful their ideas were subject to much presidential deliberation. Or a leader can make a concerted effort to shape public opinion. We have been reminded recently that President Carter employed this form repeatedly in messages, arguing to the nation to be more frugal and conservation minded. Alternatively, a president can demonstrate intent by acting on his or her own ideas. In the words of political scientist James David Barber, he or she can “show an orientation toward productiveness as a value,” flooding the daily news agenda with gestures of decisiveness. George W. Bush liked to use the location that he was “the decider:” a single-minded leader with little patience for parsing various other views.

Trump is definitely not the West Wings’ Jeb Bartlett, testing ideas with insiders and outsiders from morning to night. Instead, proposals like taking over Panama or invading Iceland, you will pardon the pun, seem half-baked: made mostly in private, but announced with calculated theatrics. The theatre of stale “manly” declarations is his rhetorical method, and about 25 years out of date. The result is that we might get better outcomes with a throw of some dice.

One could fairly ask how the preposterous idea of taking over a foreign land was not fully studied and discussed by security analysts, both sides of Congress, military leaders, and, most egregiously, the effected governments themselves. After all, these decisions involve sovereign states that were–not long ago–our allies. Ditto on unilaterally renaming Denali, the beautiful word indigenous and more recent residents of Alaska prefer for this grand North American mountain. Senator Lisa Murkowski of Alaska (R) disagrees with Trump’s decision. “You can’t improve upon the name that Alaska’s Koyukon Athabascans bestowed on North America’s tallest peak.” Obviously, place names of indigenous Americans rightfully figure in every corner of the nation. Politico suggests he is just getting started on a binge of unilateral name-changes. Who knows what is in store for the residents of Minnesota, Montana, or New York?

Aside from the blunt instrument of random tariffs, which has all of the grace of shooting out the neighbor’s windows, the single biggest marvel of executive overreach is his decision to rename internationally recognized name for the Gulf of Mexico. He seems uninterested in Mexico’s or Cuba’s views or, more significantly, the weight of history and tradition that governs long-established geographical features. Changing the name of an international body of water is roughly the equivalent of announcing that Florida will henceforth be known as Swamplandia. Floridians might have other ideas. The U.S. Board on Geographic Names would normally vet name changes. But even a leader who craves the appearance of authority should know that sometimes ‘saying it doesn’t make it so.’

In the parlance of decision-making theory, these are all “low knowledge/non-incremental” changes with important ramifications that reach far beyond what the impulsive Donald Trump envisions. Consultation with effected parties on these decisions appears to have been minimal.

Students of how decisions are made note that non-incremental changes preceded by little deliberation represent the least desirable path to change. It’s a theatrical style of leadership more at home in movie script than in our elaborately interconnected world. We now must wait with our former friends for the unintended consequences to roll in.

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American Dislocations

Chicago, 1968                                                The Washington Post

The current President produces a jarring and familiar sense of dislocation:  behavior rife with violated norms, intimations of collusion with shady figures, and shameless cronyism.

Was it always so?

Using the foreshortened perspective that looking back in time allows, its easy to see the United States as a civil society that is nearly always peering into the abyss of political crisis. These varied downturns are not quite existential threats; there’s usually no fear for the survival of the republic.  But as they unfold in real time, they can still seem overwhelming.

Was it always so?

As young people, our parents or grandparents stared down the gunbarrel of international catastrophe.  Eventually, America’s participation in the Second World War became heroic.  But the threat of a Nazi Europe  and a rising Japan left few untouched.  Germany’s bid for hegemony clearly failed, yet the eventual petition of western Europe at the hands of our former Soviet allies triggered new waves of governmental overreach.  Congress was at the center of anti-communist hysteria that chained out in fantasies of internal subversion. Throughout the 1950s, those who traded in such dystopian speculations were certain that Americans were not safe as long as the likes of Leonard Bernstein or Dalton Trumbo were loose in the Republic.  What would eventually become McCarthyism pushed America into bouts of anti-intellectual fervor that equals the magical thinking that now dominates our news.

In different ways it would be no less for ‘boomers’ like myself growing up in the 1960s. The proliferating spread of television put us in a front row seat for a stormy decade that would rob the nation of 58,000 American lives in Vietnam, a popular President and his brother, and the nation’s leading civil rights leader.  Racial tensions flared into open mayhem in Detroit, Los Angeles and other American cities. And within a year of the worst riots, the nation shamed a discredited Lyndon Johnson into declining to serve a second presidential term. The new heir to the office in 1968 was a moody Republican whose own devolution would be complete in the first years of the next decade.  Richard Nixon eventually resigned, impeached and disgraced. That was only a few years after the hot summer of political violence that culminated in a “police riot” and bloodshed at the Democratic Party Convention in Chicago. As a high school student living through the 60s in the sheltered heights of a mountain town, I can still recall a sinking feeling that the meltdowns of the decade amounted to a kind of second Civil War.

It seems like American politics is much like North American weather: brutish, prone to jarring changes, and sometimes lethal. Even so, it is interesting that Canadians living under the same meteorological forces seem more willing to forgo the kinds of tribal battles that routinely drain Americans of the natural optimism. Issues that easily cripple and harden Americans—health care, regional sovereignty, “fair” taxation—seem to be resolved with more grace and less drama by our northern neighbors. Is the fact that the nation never suffered through a crushing civil war a factor? Canada’s lesson for us is that nations not on the brink offer fewer psychological rewards to those who would make virulent opposition a lifelong occupation.

The challenge of nurturing a successful civil society is not just our battle to wage. In smaller and different ways some of the same issues exist in important nations in Europe. But it feels like we have the dubious distinction of constructing crises of our own making, putting ourselves at a disadvantage to find pathways of communication that can take away the strangeness of our neighbors.