Rowing Upstream

The unraveling of the VA scandal, much like the exposure of NSA spying, has been brought to us through journalists chronicling the stories brought to them by a special form of American hero: the whistleblower.

When we read these stories, our outrage boils up instantly: why wasn’t this obvious wrong corrected earlier? It’s sometimes easy to plug ourselves into the scenario: surely, that’s a whistle I would have blown, we say to ourselves, were I in that position. Would we, now?

As the recent Frontline series pointed out, Edward Snowden is only the most prominent in a long chain of those who tried to call attention to what was going on in the NSA. Snowden may well be considered a hero, especially historically. Not to take anything from his achievement, but he was a contractor. Many of those who blew earlier whistles were career employees of the agency, or at least in related government positions. Their actions resulted in their lives being ruined by those who didn’t want their boats rocked.

This isn’t the kind of heroism that brings instant adulation, like the passerby gets from the TV crew when he pulls a driver from the wreckage of a burning car. Whistleblowers usually are branded as traitors or turncoats. Those whom they thought to be friends shun them, and the negative consequences of their actions can persist for years in the form of psychological or even physical persecution. Whistleblowers’ stories make wonderful movie scripts, but their heroism is resolved in only two hours, and  a movie can’t make us fully appreciate the pressures they were under and the self-doubts they faced: wondering on a long string of mostly sleepless nights if they had really done the right thing.

It’s about rowing upstream against a fierce current. Those who blow whistles aren’t just exposing what needs fixing. They’re usually fighting powerful, entrenched systems and cultures with many players. Things had been done the wrong way for a long time by people who found it profitable – or at the very least, less stressful -- to go along. Performance bonuses, in the case of the VA, made it tempting for administrators to cook the books about wait times for veterans needing treatment.

In such cases, the CEO or the agency head is usually forced to fall on a sword. That individual knew or should have known, the story goes. But this individual may not be the villain of the piece. The transgressions are often committed by lower-level folks – the people in the middle who make the faulty system work for them. And it’s usually other people in the middle, or those at lower levels, who blow those whistles, because they have seen what’s happening on a daily basis.

Here’s to those upstream rowers, those light sleepers compelled to lead us, sometimes kicking and screaming – to the truth. The whistle-blowing, of course, is just the first step in the process. The rest of us, or those representing us in a position to right wrongs, have to hear the whistle and respond.

Isla Vista and the NSA

Before all of us who are outraged about NSA spying demand that the whole apparatus be flushed down the toilet, maybe there’s an overlooked beneficial application.

The shooter in the UC Santa Barbara incident telegraphed his murderous intentions by posting them on the Internet before he carried them out. Maybe an intelligence whizbang could figure out how to flag such pronouncements instantly so that the authorities could step in to prevent these tragedies (and then, of course, the authorities have to act). Allegedly, the system was set up to catch foreign terrorists. Wasn’t Isla Vista a form of domestic terrorism? Is a twisted romantic passion any less dangerous than a twisted religious one?

Gun control is a wonderful idea, but crafting legislation that plugs all the loopholes immediately is virtually impossible. Richard Martinez, whose son died in the Isla Vista shooting, called Congress and the national leadership a “rudderless bunch of idiots.” Wrong. They are not rudderless at all. They know exactly where they’re NOT going. Maybe this time, they will be prompted to do something, but we have to accept that it would likely be largely symbolic. Still, we have to start someplace.

As many observers have told us, the problem is cultural. You are not going to take guns out of the American psyche with a few pieces of legislation. The Emancipation Proclamation didn’t end the love of slavery, and we’re still not through with discrimination. It just takes time.

The unbalanced young man who carried out the Isla Vista shooting apparently never learned that a sense of entitlement when it comes to women doesn’t lead to success in that sphere. Where did his sense of entitlement come from? And where did his conviction that the use of a gun would make him feel better come from? Movies? TV? The Internet? Bad parenting? A chemical imbalance?

As for Congress, a female religious leader from the 19^th century, Mary Baker Eddy, speaking about women’s suffrage, felt that  a reasonable means of making it happen would be to raise a “nobler race for legislation” and that it would require an “elevation of society in general.” That takes time, and she was speaking about women’s suffrage more than 50 years before it came along.

If I may put it very bluntly, the holders of outdated views have to die off before a full cultural change can take place. In the meantime, it’s up to young people of child-bearing age to start raising that “nobler race,” and demand that those profiting from the gun culture change their ways. That means everyone, Hollywood included.

But we have to do what we can when we can. If you hit the Congressional mule over the head with enough logical 2-by-4s, will it eventually get the message?

Marking the Calendar

This is the time of year when we bloggers and columnists are supposed to be reminding our readers of the true meaning of Memorial Day, and telling you not to forget its solemn purpose of remembering the war dead while absorbed in barbecuing, partying, or shopping. I’m here to cut folks just a little slack.

These things are not mutually exclusive, and it’s a simple fact that some of these holidays are seasonal markers. Memorial Day, for example, has always signified the traditional beginning of summer, coming way before the official solstice in June. Where I grew up in the Northeast, it was the day you could begin filling (or using) your swimming pool, if you had one. Folks barbecue outdoors this weekend because, well, they can – generally it hasn’t been warm enough up to this point. The beach and mountain resorts start charging summer rates. Even gasoline prices go up. On the other hand, our newspapers will be full of inserts or wrappers about stores having sales. Is it really all that sacrilegious?

Labor Day plays a similar role on the calendar. It’s the traditional start of the school season, and marks the beginning of getting back to business after the summer. The plight of the American laborer just doesn’t dominate the thought on that day.

Even Christmas and Easter serve as seasonal markers – in fact, it’s said that Christmas was originally an extension of a winter solstice observance and Easter the start of spring.

So partying doesn’t mean we don’t think about the “true meaning” of all these days. We do. But thinking about true meanings doesn’t require us to feel guilty about relaxing, celebrating with others, or even trying to pick up a bargain or two.

Not to end on a downer here, but what Memorial Day does get me thinking about is not only how many service members we have lost in necessary wars, but in the unnecessary ones (yes, there is a difference). And what have we been doing to help those who have survived such conflicts? Not nearly enough, the headlines are screaming now. We need to take a minute to think about them, too.

Eyes Wide Open

Frontline’s two-part series, “The United States of Secrets,” was quite an eye-opener. For many of us, perhaps, our eyes were already open a crack, thanks to Edward Snowden. But the program added some length to the toothpicks.

If you’re like me, you probably had it in the back of your mind, at least, that the NSA and many large tech companies knew everything about you based on your behavior online or on mobile, but thanks to the whistle-blowers (of whom Snowden is the most famous in a rather long line), now you know the extent of it.

Now we have to decide how much it bothers us, and what we’re going to do about it as individuals. Because it doesn’t bother everyone equally. You may insist that the practice of storing your data stop, on principle, but that’s probably not going to happen, at least for quite a while. So the only thing left that you control is your own behavior. Are you willing to drop out and disconnect? Again, probably not. But at least now, you can’t say you don’t know what the price of living in the modern world is. And in the end, if it doesn’t change your daily life, you may actually make peace with it.

If not, are there enough of us out here so outraged by what we have learned that we are willing to put our vote where our anger is and elect those who would forbid these practices? To be honest, if Barack Obama were running for a third term, I don’t know if I’d vote for him again. A big part of his platform was transparency, but it seems there’s even less of it in government now than there was under W. His director of national intelligence lied to Congress about the extent of data collection. It wasn’t prevarication, or dissembling, or misleading – it was a LIE.

OK, so are we safer for what’s been going on, now that we know about it? Is 9/11 going to be our last Pearl Harbor? What major attacks have been broken up, thanks to the Program? Well, of course, they won’t tell us that (I’m almost ready to shout, “So at least make something UP!”).

As for search engines and other information companies, are there any out there promising NOT to collect our data, that can perform as well as Google or the other biggies? That we might even have to pay for to use?

Mr. Snowden et al have done their jobs. Now it’s down to us.

The Media Spotlight's Narrow Beam

I know this is going to sound a little perverse, but while the story of the kidnapped Nigerian schoolgirls is a tragedy, why has it captured the imagination at the expense of everything else?

That’s an easy one. There’s the word “schoolgirls,” meaning children. And we have an evil Islamic militant group, Boko Haram. And a powerless government that can’t or won’t do anything about it. And, of course, celebrity re-tweets, can’t forget that. And then, throw in the charges that we’ve never paid attention to Nigeria in the past because it’s a black African country. Now we have guilt in the mix. This reminds me of the story of the crazy African gang leader of a couple of years ago – what was his name again? Similar worldwide fury.

Question 2: What are we, the U.S., going to do about the Nigerian situation, exactly? Well, we’ve sent in a tem of specialists to help the Nigerians. Good move. But no “boots on the ground.” Because we’ve been a little injudicious in the past decade or so with where we have put our boots, there’s no stomach for any large-scale military help, schoolgirls or not.

But while we’re all agonizing about the schoolgirls, where has the world been for the past three-plus years, watching Syria degenerate? A lot more than 250 children are dead, and millions of people have been displaced. The century, as I may have said before, is relatively young, but this could rank as one of its great tragedies, and it’s far from over. I’m afraid that we will end up having to pay much closer attention to this one than we’d like. And lately, there have been warnings about a major famine involving millions in South Sudan, the world’s newest country.

OK, too many fires to put out, and maybe at this moment we can’t deal with any of them. All I’m saying is, just because the beam of the media spotlight is shining on a situation that needs it, let’s not forget how narrow that beam is – and how much else stays in the dark.

Help Them, Jesus (Or Whoever)

Ruling in a case out of Greece, NY, the Supreme Court, in a 5-4 vote, decided that it’s OK for legislative bodies to have their sessions introduced with a prayer. The use of an invocation does not conflict with the doctrine of separation of church and state, the court said, because it does not coerce anyone into following a faith.

So how does a city council, for example, deal with a decision like this? Well, nobody is holding a gun to legislators’ heads here – if they go without an invocation now, there’s no reason they have to start. But if they do decide to adopt this, is there a fair way to do it?

In one town I worked in as a reporter, I covered city council meetings, and the council’s practice back in the day was to invite a different member of the clergy to open the meetings with a religious message. Priests, rabbis, and ministers appeared in rotation.

This particular town did not have an imam, at least one who represented any sizable congregation. I can’t wait to see what happens if a city council in some town invites an imam to open their meeting with citations from the Qu’ran. I’d like to be there to see how the conservative prayer boosters react to that one.

And don’t forget the less-established U.S. religions or practitioners of spiritualism. Will a Buddhist monk clothed in saffron bring a prayer wheel? Will a witch show up, cauldron and all? Will the New Ager hand out pyramid hats for the council to wear as the meeting begins?

And how about agnostics --  “May God be with you….I guess…”  Then there are atheists, who probably won’t be able to go much beyond “Good luck!”

How about making it the mayor’s job to pick out a different citation each week, read it, and afterward ask the audience to guess where it came from? That might be fun.

Look, I actually like the concept of opening a public meeting with an invocation – it sets a nice tone. But does it work? Are meetings opened with prayer any less contentious than those that aren’t? Are the decisions made by public bodies any wiser? You be the judge.

Hardwood Justice

As the attorneys say, let’s stipulate to a couple of things:

1. Donald Sterling is a pig.
2. He should not own an NBA team.

From this point on, I might get a little perverse. The penalties against Mr. Sterling sound good, but how do they stand up legally? I need a lawyer to help me.

So they kicked him out of all NBA activities. At the same time, they fine him $2.5 million. Would you feel obligated to pay a fine to an organization that has ostracized you? I could see one or the other, but I'm not sure about both.

Adam Silver said the NBA would try to force Sterling to sell the Clippers. I don’t know how you’d compel an individual to sell his property. In this case, one ploy might be to kick the Clippers organization out of the NBA altogether. Messy on the schedule, and perhaps unfair to the players, but would it force Sterling to sell the team at a fire sale price? At that point, the new owners would have to apply to have the team rejoin the NBA, and the other team owners would have some say-so over the worthiness of the buyers.

A big sticking point is the league constitution. Does it have language dealing with the moral turpitude or racial attitudes of owners? If not, the NBA better put some language in there before accepting new owners.

And remember that the offensive comments that led to the action against Sterling, as even Kareem Abdul-Jabbar points out, was secretly recorded – essentially legal in most places, but kind of smelly.

So while many offended by Mr. Sterling may be thrilled about the NBA’s bold action, I submit that legally, it’s only half-time in this particular game. But I am notorious for bad legal advice.