Senator Kennedy and "Legacies"

I grew up in a "Kennedy" household, so Senator Kennedy's death has been much on my mind --- along with memories of his two older brothers. Pretty much anything that's needed to be said has been said, although of course that won't stop me from making two points.

First: The "end of an era"? I don't think so. In many ways, I think we're only beginning to see the fruits of the Kennedy "legacy" that has unfolded over the past thirty years. Think of all the contributions from women who no longer need to think "No, I can't," and are passing that idea on to their own kids.

From every African-American who thought "Yes, I can" --- and made sure the next generation did, too.

From all those kids who didn't die in Viet Nam and so helped raise the next generation.

From every person who lived in a wheelchair, found doors that opened, and so were able to contribute to the world's well-being.

My second point is more of a question: How many of the nation's elected officials --- senators, representative, state legislators, governors --- watched all those thousands of people file past the coffin and wait hours for the hearse and stand outside the church, and, as they watched, asked themselves

If I die tomorrow, will anyone wait hours to see my body? Will anyone stand at attention as my hearse passes by? Will thousands of people who never met me mourn my death? Am I a leader who strives for the good of all, or am I working only for the enrichment of myself? And which is the mark of greatness?

About That Loony Anheuser-Busch "Anti-Trust" Claim

I wasn't going to waste my time on this but . . . . Yesterday the New York Times ran this piece in which someone with entirely too much time on his/her hands "argued" (and I use that term loosely) that when Anheuser-Busch InBev announced it was raising prices, it all but invited the Obama administration to file an anti-trust suit against the company.

And suddenly everyone and his mother seems to be running around in breathless anticipation, waiting for A-B to finally get what's coming to it, damnit. Picture me rolling my eyes. Read the piece for yourself (it's short), but know this:

1. Whoever wrote it knows little or nothing about the recent history of the beer industry.

2. A-B, Miller, and Coors have controlled 80% of the beer market for about 25 years (during which time, of course, the number of American beermakers rose from about 100 to 1500).

3. The Pabst suit was one of many filed by the government between c. 1960 and 1980.

4. All the beer makers, large and small, raised their prices recently. They did so last year at this time, and the year before that, and the year before that . . . (you get the picture).

5. There is no more reason to assume that this price hike will inspire an anti-trust suit than there is reason to assume or believe I'll land on the moon anytime soon.

Finally, and most important, this is the kind of vacuous crap that ends up in newspapers today as newspaper/media companies try to figure out how to add "content" to their websites. (I am dead certain this stuff would never have appeared in the print edition of the paper.) There is no story here.

If the Times had a reporter assigned to the beer industry beat, the piece would not have appeared, but it doesn't. As a result, it tends to print inane crap about the brewing industry, presumably in an attempt to woo readers.

In this case they probably succeeded, because this "reporting" was all over the internet in about thirty minutes flat, thereby drawing readers to the Times website. You won't see fluff like this in, say, The Wall Street Journal or the St. Louis Post-Dispatch because they have reporters assigned to cover the industry (David Kesmodel and Jeremiah McWilliams.)

If you want to follow the industry, read Kesmodel in particular (Jeremiah's reporting is focused toward A-B, no surprise given his location). But they're both terrific reporters.

And by the way, I am otherwise a huge fan of the New York Times. I just don't bother with its beer industry coverage because, well, see above.

The Politics of Food and the Historian's Work: Where the Twain Shall Meet, Part 3 of 3

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three 

Want to hear something even sadder? I’ve not even finished writing this new book, and I’ve already been accused of being a mouthpiece for Corporate Food.

I’m not. I’m a historian who has chosen to write about a complicated, contentious issue. (Again, I was more or less oblivious to this “food fight” until I was well into the project.) I don’t know where the “story” will go.

Why? Because I’m still researching its contents and, like any historian, I let the facts guide me toward clarity and understanding. But I doubt it will be a “story” one that either side wants to hear. It’ll be too complex. It won’t toe the party line. It won’t conform to the mythology that is the underpinning of both sides’ arguments.

Hey, that’s the nature of real life: it’s complicated and it almost never fits into the either/or, black/white scenario that we’d like it to. That’s also the curse, and the blessing, of the historian’s work.

All this leads to an obvious question: When I’m finished with the book, will I have an opinion about the “food fight”?

Answer: Certainly. By then I’ll know something about the issues, ideas, and events that led to this moment in American history, and I’ll have enough facts to make an informed judgment about this debate and to take a stance on it.

Put another way, I’ll be a more educated, informed citizen. With luck, you’ll read my book and you, too, will have enough information to make your own judgment. And you, too, will be a more informed citizen. At least that’s my hope.

The Politics of Food and the Historian's Work: When the Twain Shall Meet, Part 2 of 3

Part One --- Part Two --- Part Three 

Frankly, it’s painful to watch this conflict unfold. The issues involved are extraordinarily complex, they are global in nature, and involve the lives of billions of people. Unfortunately, that complexity is obscured by the way in which the public debate is taking place.

On one side are committed, passionate grassroots activists, many of whom are focused on what they regard as a "food crisis," for which they propose various solutions.  (*1)

On the other side are people who produce the food. They're hindered in part by their own diversity: There is no single “farm” voice, no single “producer” voice, and as a result it’s hard for food producers to present a coherent defense of the attack on it. (*2)

On one side is a vehement offense ("modern farming is evil and so is corporate food"), on the other a disorganized, bewildered defense ("we're feeding the people of the world! how can we be evil?"), all of it spiced with hefty doses of glib, ignorant chatter that insult one side or the other. (*3)

Lost, and nearly invisible, in the middle are the hundreds of thousands of people --- chemists, biologists, agronomists, economists, etc. --- who have been studying issues of sustainability, global food production, and the like for decades. (I get the distinct impression that many of the antagonists on both sides are blissfully unaware of the history of the "sustainability" issue.)

These are people working in public and private institutions, working with farmers and food manufacturers alike. (Much of their research, it should be noted, is, in this country, taxpayer-funded.) Unfortunately, much of what they have to say is lost amidst the noise.

Result? The public discussion over the modern food system has become so politicized, and its participants so polarized, that people who learn that I'm writing a book about the history of meat assume that I must be "working" for one side or the other. That I intend to either defend big corporations, or write a diatribe against “factory meat.”

Not true. My “agenda” is simple: to explore what it means to be an American. “Meat” is simply a vehicle for doing so.

That’s it. That’s the beginning, the middle, and the end of my agenda. I’m not out to “get” one side or the other. I’m not assuming that one side is right and the other side is wrong.

I’m only  interested in exploring the long view of the big picture. I’m trying to figure out “what happened” and why in hopes of furthering my understanding of who we are as a people and a nation. It’s what I did with my other three books. It’s what I do. It's what other historians do.

Sadly, some people don’t believe that. To this day, many “beer geeks” believe that one of the “corporate brewers” paid me to write the beer book. That’s not true, but since I didn’t toe the “party line” on the subject of beer (Big Beer is evil. Small Beer is saintly), it follows that I MUST be in the pay of the corporations.

Next: Where the historian and the debate finally meet

 ________________

*1: The phrase “food crisis” is itself interesting. It’s a loaded term --- akin to “pro choice” and “pro life” --- that is used to commandeer and define the terms of the debate.

*2: You’re thinking, “Wait! The “food establishment” is big corporations. Surely they can defend themselves.” Easier said than done. Big food corporations, for example, simply ignore the assault as not worth their time, leaving the troops on the ground --- farmers --- to defend themselves. Or, more typically, they aim toward more "ecologically correct" foods by mining all that research being carried out in universities and other laboratories.

*3: For a prime example, see this essay by Nicholas Kristof in a recent issue of the New York Times. It's been awhile since I've read anything quite so inane. No surprise, the many of the nation's hardworking farmers took offense.

Urgh, Um, Blushing Like Mad

Well, since I dragged Tim's name into this --- I owe it to him to make sure he gets heard. So read his full comment here. Scurrying away now to blush. (I don't deal well with compliments. . .) (Childhood thing.)

E-Books and Libraries? A [Mostly] Good Idea

Loyal reader Dave pointed out this news item about the Sony reader being used for library books: People who have one of the readers and a library card will be able to "check out" a copy of the book and read it on their device. He wonders what I think about it.

My reaction: Great idea! Libraries are feeling the hit from the financial crisis. Indeed, they're being hit with a double whammy: Their own budgets are being cut (because, for example, sales and property taxes used to fund libraries are down) even as the public flocks to libraries in record numbers (because they're checking books and dvds instead of buying them).

So my guess is that this would allow libraries to provide a service at a low cost.

My question is this: at what point will e-books be inexpensive enough so that people will buy them instead of "borrowing" them from a library? As a writer, I hope that sweet spot shows up sooner rather than later: I only earn money from books when someone buys them. The more books people buy, the more money I earn. A library purchase, of course, is a one-time event: the library buys the book, and thousands read it for free.

Don't get me wrong: I'm a serious fan and supporter of libraries. Have been all my life.

But I gotta say that the British system sounds good to me: writers there earn a bit of money every time someone checks out their books.

BUT: the best part of this news item is that Sony would also partner with Google and make its collection of digitized books available as well. That's GREAT news. As it stands now, the agreement Google has hammered out will provide for access to that digital collection at only one computer terminal per library. Not good. Not good at all. (I'm simplifying part of a very complex agreement, but that's the gist of the relevant part of it.)

So: Sony, have at it. If this actually pans out, I'd even (finally) spend money on one of these e-readers, if only so I could get access to the Google books.