WEAC, WIVA

I have some questions.

For example, Does United Auto Workers demonize light rail, or public bus systems? If they did, would we listen?

If not, why do we let WEAC get away with it?

Two weeks ago, I wrote about WEAC, the state teacher’s union, suing a charter school called the Wisconsin Virtual Academy (WIVA).

The suit itself is based on a few technical statutory points: state statute says, for example, that you have to be licensed by the Department of Public Instruction (DPI) to teach in a public school. WEAC accuses parents of WIVA students of teaching, and asserts that WIVA is a public charter school. WIVA parents are, therefore, in violation of state statute.

Don’t worry: WEAC isn’t asking that the parents themselves be punished. Not yet, anyway. They are arguing, though, that parents aren’t qualified to teach their own children.

Think I’m kidding? Here are a few excerpts from various legal briefs on the case:

“Wisconsin law requires that those who teach in the state’s public schools must hold a license…However, the responsible adults (their term for “parents” –ed.) also teach. They are not licensed to do so. Accordingly, they may not teach in this public school.”

“Defendants acknowledge that the parents are ‘required’ to be actively involved in their student’s education for four to five hours a day, and that additional preparation time is also required of the parents.”

“The parent’s ability to teach is never evaluated, and the parent’s teaching is not supervised by a WIVA teacher.”

“…no one investigated (parent Jennifer) Lecato’s qualifications to teach her children.”

Offensive? Arrogant? Smacking of a cheap b-movie in which an oppressive government confiscates children from birth to raise them away from their parents in vast monolithic warehouses where uniform toneless drones indoctrinate them into a society of peons?

At the risk of being melodramatic; yes, yes, and yes.

Now, the statute exists for good reason. Most of us parents send our kids to public schools. For many of us, there really isn’t another choice. That statute is our guarantee that the people teaching our kids have met some minimal standards. That they’ve been trained to teach.

WIVA’s parents haven’t been. Most of them, anyway. They don’t meet those minimal standards.

But, then, they’re not teaching my kids. Or yours. They’re teaching their own kids, and nobody else’s. I fail to see why the statute should apply.

But the statute makes no provision for that. From a purely technical, legal standpoint, I’m afraid WEAC and DPI may be right.

If so, what happens next isn’t clear to me.

They won’t be content with simple changes in WIVA’s program. WIVA’s already doing that. They’re saying their first year was, well, their first year. Their first try at doing something very different. Is it really a surprise that they wouldn’t have all the bugs worked out quite yet?

Not good enough for WEAC. Making changes now doesn’t excuse violating statute the first time, they say. The suit continues.

So it’s not about changing the way WIVA does business. It’s the fact that WIVA, with its expanded roles for unlicensed parents, exists.

WEAC sees WIVA as a threat, the same way they see the School Choice Program and home-schooling as a threat. The more options parents have, other than public schools, the fewer parents will choose the public schools. That threatens the state’s monopoly over public education. A monopoly, over which WEAC has its own monopoly – they have all the teachers.

I admit, I’m cynical about WEAC. They get a free ride as the “champions of education,” while the policies they tout all have the same things in common: more teachers (meaning more union members), more money, and/or more direct responsibility for our children, at the expense of parental responsibility.

This brings me to another question: do all of our public school teachers agree with WEAC?

I know several teachers. Some go to my church. Others coach my kids’ teams. Others are just family acquaintances.

I don’t necessarily know what their individual politics are, but they are all reasonably intelligent, thoughtful people. That’s my impression, anyway. The kind of people I want teaching my kids.

Here’s my question: do you, the teachers, agree that parents are unqualified to teach their own kids?

If so, then, okay. I can just lump you in with your union. If not, you should be aware, you’re already being lumped in with your union.

What a Game

“Therefore I will give him his portion among the great, and he shall divide the spoils with the mighty, because he surrendered himself to death and was counted among the wicked; and he shall take away the sins of many, and win pardon for their offenses.” Isaiah 53:12

Been watching the NCAAs? Who caught the West Virginia/Wake Forest game last week?

It’s not something I would normally watch. I don’t even know where Wake Forest is. Nor do I care.

That’s the magic of the NCAA tournament. It’s like the Olympics, when you’ll watch athletes you don’t care about from places you never heard of playing sports that make no sense to you. And you love it.

Anyway, West Virginia was the underdog. They were supposed to lose, and it looked like they would – down 13 points at the half.

But then they rallied, took the lead, and could have put the game away. They didn’t: Wake Forest did just enough to take the game into overtime, and then double overtime.

And then, West Virginia, those underdogs, finally pulled it off. Defied the odds and won, 111 to 105. Advanced to the Sweet Sixteen.

I love games like that. You can feel it. Something big about to happen. You’re not sure that it will. You wouldn’t bet on it. But you think…maybe…the big upset, the huge basket, the last second victory over impossible odds.

In some small recess of yourself, you can feel it coming. And then it does. And it’s exhilarating.

Remember 1980? That insecure point in history between disco and…well, the 80s?

Commentators today say that year was one of great uncertainty, even fear. The Cold War at its height, nukes pointed at every intersection, gas prices and inflation out of control, the hostages in Iran.

And a hockey game.

I remember watching the news that night – the night the U.S. played the mighty Soviet Union. The game was tape delayed, so reports were vague – the reporters knew what had happened, but wouldn’t tell us. Wouldn’t ruin it for us. But we could tell, by their demeanor. By the crowds’ cheering.

We could tell…but we wouldn’t admit it. Not even to ourselves. It was too big. Too wonderful. Too magical. Maybe we misunderstood. Maybe we had it wrong. We couldn’t be sure.

But then we saw it happen. The Moment, when we knew our side had defied reason…and won.

It’s that moment that I love the most. Your team ices the puck with seconds to go, or gets the ball up court before the other team can foul, or the quarterback starts taking a knee at every snap.

That moment when you know you’ve flouted the odds. Won the big game. Years later, even decades later, the memory still gives you goosebumps. Still makes your eyes mist over.

I wonder: was there any hint of this two thousand years ago?

To the average fan, things must have looked bad. Our team was the underdog – no doubt about that. A ragtag bunch of penniless nobodies up against the Roman Empire and thousands of years of Jewish law. Our star player not only on the bench, but on a cross, and then in a tomb.

Jesus dead. Buried. What was it like, to be a Christian for those three days?

Could they feel then that maybe, just maybe, something big was about to happen? Something that would make them swarm the court? Rush the field? Clamber onto the goalposts?

Or was it more like seeing your opponents build an overwhelming lead, after you thought you had the game won? Thinking, boy, we could have had something big. Just long enough for the feeling to settle in your gut. We almost had it. Close, but not close enough. Not gonna happen.

Just before that moment, when you know it has happened.

Those last few seconds of the game…the puck iced, ball inbounded, quarterback kneeling, Jesus eating a piece of fish.

The clock running down: three…two…one…buzzer! Hallelujah!

Not a perfect metaphor, I know. I’m understating the magnitude a little. Comparing apples to mountains. Plus, Jesus’ team was never really the underdog. Not with The Coach calling the shots.

But to an ignorant, flawed, mortal human being, like Paul, or Mark, or Andrew, it sure must have looked that way.

And then, high fives all around. Inappropriate during Holy Week, maybe. Or, maybe, entirely appropriate.

Jesus made the buzzer-beater. The full-court shot to win it all.

And it was really a slam dunk.

To Care, Or Not To Care

I don’t care.

Say that once or twice. Out loud. Like you mean it. I don’t care.

Liberating, isn’t it? Even when you’re not saying it about anything in particular. I don’t care. It’s one of my favorite phrases.

A little background: remember Elian Gonzalez? The kid from Cuba, whose mother tried to escape to the U.S. but died on the way? His father, still in Cuba, said he wanted the boy back. This gave birth to a massive spinoff of the pundit industry: all-Elian, all the time.

The debate was lively. Should we send him back to Cuba? His mother obviously wanted him in the U.S. But his mother’s gone – that means his father has the legal rights. But his father’s in Cuba – a repressive Communist regime. He’d probably rather be in the U.S., himself. He’s only saying he wants Elian returned to him because the government is forcing him say so. But we can’t assume that – we can’t put words into his mouth. Oh, no, because of course the Cuban government wouldn’t put any words into his mouth. Hey, Elian’s got relatives over here who want him. He’ll be fine. You know he’ll live a much better life in the U.S. So, what, we should take kids away from single parents in the ghetto because they’d be better off someplace else? It’s morally wrong to keep him from his father.

And around and around and around we went.

Throughout the debate, I found myself stricken with the curse of non-alignment. The curse of seeing both sides equally. No matter how hard I tried to make a decision, to come down on one side of the argument, I couldn’t do it.

Oh, sure, I naturally fell on the side that Elian should stay and become a Republican-voting anti-Castro activist, but I had selfish motives for that. I wasn’t really convinced.

And then, one day, as I forced my way through the umpteenth opinion piece on the subject, I wondered: do I really have to care about this?

Do I really have to have an opinion? Not that it doesn’t matter, mind you: a single person’s opinion, idea, vote does count, and I’m not one to say otherwise. But, what if I can’t make up my mind, even though the whole country is talking about it? Does that mean I’m somehow flawed?

Probably, yes, the subject at hand notwithstanding. But that’s not the point. The point is, I decided the world could get through this particular issue without my input. I decided, this one time, I didn’t have to know where I stood. I decided it was okay for me to be undecided.

I decided it was okay for me not to care.

I’ve used this ability liberally since then – it comes in useful, particularly, when cutting-edge cultural-milestone issues like the Michael Jackson and Martha Stewart trials, Prince Charles’ scandalous second marriage, and Ashton Kutcher – especially Ashton Kutcher – come up.

If only I’d known this during the O.J. trial. Whatever happened to Judge Ito, anyway?

Oh, right. I don’t care.

Non-caring isn’t without its pitfalls, of course. Saying it out loud to someone who does care is a no-no. That person will invariably conclude that you simply aren’t aware of the facts, and will go to great lengths to educate you.

Realize, also, that non-caring can become a compulsion, just as addictive as the compulsion to have an opinion on every single issue. Remember, moderation is the key.

And there’s a difference between not caring at all, and simply declining to take part in the debate.

The final pitfall: it’s not easy, especially for a news junkie like myself and, I’m guessing, like most of you. Just deciding not to care makes us feel guilty, like we’re shirking something important.

But we can’t be filled with righteous anger all the time, over every issue. There are limits to human sanity. There’s a 24-hour limit on every day.

So, sometimes I’ll care. Sometimes I won’t. Sometimes, I’ll care, but you won’t be able to tell.

Non-caring is a skill, like any other. A tool, to use when you’re going in circles. When you’re not sure what to think. When you’re reaching the limits of your own sanity.

Oh, and find out where those limits are. Find your own comfort level.

Is it lazy of me? Irresponsible? Maybe you think so. Heck, maybe I agree.

But…well, just go back to the top of this column. You’ll find my answer there.

WEAC Wants Our Children

It’s the sort of thing that drives you nuts.

Before I explain that, let me explain this: in my world, my children are mine, for better or worse. If one of my kids throws a rock through your window, I expect financial liability. If one of my kids becomes Superbowl MVP, I expect full credit.

Because of those expectations, I understand that it’s my responsibility to teach my kids not to throw rocks. To teach them hard work and dedication.

I believe this responsibility includes taking my kids out of one school and putting them in another, or even teaching them myself, if I believe they’ll be better off that way.

Not everyone agrees. Among them, WEAC, the state teacher’s union.

Here’s the story. The state of Wisconsin allows for the creation of charter schools – “experimental” schools, which can, to an extent, make their own rules. Parents can send their kids to a charter school – or not. It’s their choice.

Before a charter school can open, the Department of Public Instruction (DPI) has to sign off on it. In December, 2003, they did just that, allowing the Northern Ozaukee School District to open a “virtual school,” called the Wisconsin Virtual Academy (WIVA).

WIVA is run by licensed teachers, but students do their work at home, via computer, and most of their guidance (teaching) from their parents. Everyone stays in regular contact – parents, students, and teachers. Progress is tracked. More than 600 students statewide have signed up.

WEAC has filed a lawsuit, seeking to close the school down. Despite having approved the school in the first place, DPI has sided with WEAC, no doubt apologizing profusely and promising that it will never ever happen again if you’ll only give me one more chance, sir!

That’s the DPI: Libby Burmaster, Superintendent. Side note: we’ve got a chance to get rid of her on April 5. Vote Underheim. My children will thank you.

Why do these two powerful bureaucracies want to shut WIVA down? Two basic reasons.

One: according to DPI, there’s no accountability. Since most WIVA families don’t live in the school district, those parents can’t vote school board members out.

Big whoop, says WIVA. Parents have a much better way of holding the school accountable: they can leave it.

Two (and this is the part that drives you nuts), the parents who handle most of the one-on-one instruction aren’t licensed teachers. Imagine that. Parents, teaching! And the district doesn’t deny it!

Parents, WEAC says, aren’t qualified to teach. They should leave it to the pros. This isn’t the first time WEAC’s made that argument – ask any parent who homeschools.

Now, my kids go to public school. They get several hours a day of instruction from WEAC’s licensed teachers.

By WEAC’s logic, that’s all they need. My wife and I (me, mostly) are doing our part by staying out of the way.

Except we’re really not. We (mostly my wife) have a strong tendency to nag about homework. We probably shouldn’t be doing that. Or checking it, to see if it’s right. Or giving stern lectures, and assigning even more homework when bad grades come in.

No. We shouldn’t be doing that at all. We’re not qualified. We’re not licensed.

Instead of selfishly taking an active role in my children’s schooling, I should just let them watch 5 hours of TV a day. They’ll still get a good education, thanks to all those licensed teachers at their public schools.

Right?

Wrong. Even I, a non-licensed non-teacher, can see that.

Parents have a larger, longer, far more important effect on their children than teachers do, no matter what licenses they may or may not have. Parents live with their children. Parents raise their children.

It all comes down to the relationship between responsibility and possession; I can’t raise a dog if it lives at your house. Same goes for a child.

Deep down, I think that’s where WEAC’s philosophy leads: they can’t educate our kids if parents won’t stay out of the way. Parents are a hindrance, to be minimized as much as possible.

True, parental interference can be both good and bad. Some kids will watch too much TV, or eat too much junk food, or stay up too late, or get away with bad grades. Some parents will make bad decisions. Wrong choices.

But what’s the alternative? To hand our kids over to trained, licensed government workers, who will make those choices and decisions for us?

WEAC, I’m sure, would smile.

Gregg Underheim: Just What We Need

I’m a dad. Four kids, ranging from 3 years old to 13.

Therefore, I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of what kids need. Sure, sometimes my idea of what they need conflicts with their idea of what they need, but, well, tough luck kid. Get a job.

It’s a long list, the things kids need. And I’ve discovered a new one: something I didn’t notice on there before.

I think my kids need a masochist. Not only the kids, either: I think I need one, too.

Enter Gregg Underheim, a former teacher and current 18-year Assembly member. He wants to be Superintendent of Wisconsin’s Department of Public Instruction – basically the top executive in Wisconsin’s decentralized K-12 public education.

Okay, so he’s running for office. Anybody who does that has to be just a little masochistic, right?

I suppose so, but in this case, it’s especially true. Not because he’s been running for office regularly since 1987, either. And not because he’s running for a statewide office now, which means he’ll get abuse from the whole state, not just a small Assembly district. No, there’s another reason.

Underheim is running to unseat the chosen candidate of WEAC, the state teacher’s union.

WEAC, like the national union, is a monolithic, powerful, and militant organization that can and does bring immense amounts of money and pressure to any election, issue, or legislation they consider important.

WEAC supports the incumbent, Libby Burmaster, who in turn supports them and their agenda. The closer the race gets, the more pressure WEAC will put on it, and on Underheim.

And the irony is, losing this race is probably the best thing that could happen to Underheim – from one perspective, anyway. If he wins, he’ll face four long years in office, on the front lines, dueling a hostile WEAC.

Like I said, he’s a masochist. He must be.

Now, Underheim is no rabid right-winger. He’s friendly, engaging, smart, willing to sit down with disparate groups to work out agreements.

But he doesn’t go along with the WEAC agenda: more money, for a stronger monopoly.

Underheim supports school choice: letting parents – not the schools – decide which school their kids attend. School choice programs work, by giving parents the option to get their kids out of a school that doesn’t work. They provide greater incentive for public schools to improve. They fulfill the American ideal of personal responsibility – parents, not the state, are ultimately responsible for their children’s education.

Underheim also wants to keep the revenue caps – limits on how much school spending can grow from year to year, which have been in place since 1993.

Since 1993, union officials have said those limits will destroy our schools. Have they? Wisconsin is still 8th in the nation in spending per student, with a still-declining student-teacher ratio, and remains among the top states in academic achievement.

WEAC has a different view.

School choice threatens the government monopoly on education – a monopoly which is itself monopolized by the union.

Revenue caps have forced school boards to keep costs under greater control. They’ve kept salaries and benefits – more than 80% of school costs – to increases of less than 4% annually.

I know what you’re thinking: less than 4% a year? How can they live?

WEAC’s agenda can be boiled down to two words: spend more. Whether it’s bigger raises, more benefits, or statewide 4-year-old kindergarten, the union’s goal is to have more teachers (meaning more union members) making more money.

In a saner world, we would see the conflict of interest in letting this group control the education agenda in our state. Unfortunately, we don’t live in a saner world. In our world, WEAC’s chosen candidates – chosen, because they toe the WEAC line every step of the way – become the highest-ranking education officials in Wisconsin.

Gregg Underheim is no union-buster. Nor is he especially conservative.

But he is someone with ideas about technology, who wants to study what districts are doing well, and then export that knowledge around the state. He’s someone who understands that more money does not necessarily mean better schools.

He’s independent of the teacher’s union. If he’s elected, we can trust that his words are his own – not placed there for him by the state’s most powerful interest group.

He is someone who’s willing to put a cushy job in the Assembly aside, to spend what will likely be four very difficult years, battling the educational establishment.

Gregg Underheim is a masochist. Just what we need.

Emotion. There's a time and a place, but, please, not now.

Sauk County, Wisconsin, runs its own old folks’ home – the Sauk County Health Care Center (SCHCC). It’s a pricey business, and some of us think, maybe, we should let the private sector handle it. Others disagree.

On one side is a county supervisor who looked at facts to reach her conclusion. On the other side, another supervisor, who calls it “unforgivable” if we don’t rely on emotion, instead.

Which one do you want in charge of your tax money?

A little background: the SCHCC is, by most accounts, an exceptional facility offering exceptional services for elderly clients who require a high level of care, including the disabled and Alzheimer’s victims.

With about 150 beds, and about 150 employees, costs at the center are rising rapidly. In 2003, property taxpayers spent $1.47 million on it. This year, they’re spending $2.48 million. More will be required next year.

Plus, the building is old. Vast improvements are required, which will cost tens of millions. Building a brand new facility will also costs tens of millions.

The center is far from the only option – 72% of the county’s nursing home residents live in private nursing homes. In fact, it’s mostly just people who live nearby – north-central Sauk County – who reside at the SCHCC.

So: incredibly expensive, getting more so, and privately-owned options exist. Sounds like a recipe for getting the county out of the nursing home business. Right?

Wrong. Why? Emotions.

It’s not easy, placing an elderly relative in a home. There’s a lot of guilt involved. Once you find a good situation, you want to hang onto it. You don’t want to put yourselves – or your loved one – through it all again.

It’s also not easy to feel your job is theatened, especially if you work in a highly specialized, or a relatively unskilled area. Few things make us feel more vulnerable.

These are emotional arguments. What will become of the patients? Why should the employees be made to suffer?

We are a compassionate people. We hate suffering. We can ignore it, if we don’t have to look at it. But, placed right in front of us, our natural instinct is to help.

But our compassion is not at issue, and if it is, how about some compassion for the elderly couples, and young families, who can’t afford their property taxes? How do we weigh their problems against the angst of finding a home for a grandparent?

I would argue, instead, that SCHCC supporters are going after a different emotion. Fear.

Let’s set the stage: you’re on the Board, and think it’s best for the county to get out of the nursing home business. Let the public hearing begin.

The first testimony is that of a trembling great-grandmother, who loves her caretakers at the SCHCC. She’s afraid of being tossed out on the street, or ending up in a warehouse. We’ve all heard the stories of abuse and neglect. She reminds us about them.

Next comes a woman whose grandfather may soon need a nursing home. She describes the anguish of making that decision, and the security in knowing such a quality facility is available.

Then, an employee, who stands to lose his job if the home closes. His speech ends in cheers from the thirty other employees in the back of the room.

The rest of the hearing goes on, just like that.

The room is full, and everyone will know exactly how you vote. You have to look these people in the eye, and tell them no. Tonight, to do what you think is best for the county, you have to be the bad guy.

Scary.

This happens more often than you might think. Why, when the state budget is tight, do caretakers bring their disabled clients to the Capitol? Why do education advocates bring schoolchildren?

Because they know, it’s harder to say no to someone’s face. Much harder, when that someone is weaker than you – a child, a grandmother, and a quadriplegic. Saying no makes you look like a bully. Nobody wants that – particularly politicians.

I’m not saying there’s never a good reason to vote for more spending. I’m not saying there are no good arguments for keeping the SCHCC open.

I am saying: if there are such arguments, use them. Give us facts. Reason with us. Explain why it’s better for the entire county.

Don’t try to scare us into compliance.

Unfortunately, that second supervisor has already succumbed. Worse, he believes himself noble to have done so.

Students Hungry for their Rights

High tuition is unfair and racist.

Thus, a group of UW students is holding a hunger strike, to protest. They want tuition rolled back to what it was in 2003.

Now, before you begin to worry: don’t. Nobody’s going to starve. They’re only on strike from 10 am to 6 pm, daily, until Wednesday. Hunger strikes aren’t what they used to be, I guess.

Tuition at the UW has gone up considerably over the last two years – 37.5% since 2003 (we're still second-lowest in the Big Ten), and Governor Doyle has proposed further increases – 5% to 7% over the next two years.

And so, the students are protesting, because – don’t you understand, it’s just not fair.

The students do make at least one good argument: more college graduates are better. The more better-educated people we have, the better off we all are. And, theoretically, the higher the price of any product, the fewer people can afford it.

The students made that point a couple weeks ago, when they delivered doors – yes, real doors – to several legislative offices, adorned with slogans and signatures. “Keep the doors to education open.” Get it?

They’re making the same point with the hunger strike, or trying to. “Education is a right, not a privilege,” reads one of their signs.

A right, not a privilege. I won’t parse the dictionary definitions of those words – I hate that. I’ll agree instead – we’ve all got a right to an education.

And why not agree? It says so in our state’s constitution. Article X, Section 3: “The legislature shall provide by law for the establishment of district schools, which shall be as nearly uniform as practicable; and such schools shall be free and without charge for tuition to all children between the ages of 4 and 20 years…”

And so we do. The State of Wisconsin offers at least twelve and a half years of “free” education to every child, in taxpayer-funded buildings, staffed by university-trained, professional teachers.

Are the facilities, the equipment, the staff 100% equal everywhere? No. But every district offers the 12-plus years. Every district has professional teachers. Every district offers the opportunity for an education, at no cost to the student.

Back to our group of hungry (until dinnertime) college students: they have already taken advantage of the free (to them) education the state provides. Now, they want college education elevated to the same status – a right.

Higher tuition can present a problem, particularly for lower- and middle-class students. As I mentioned before, higher prices for any product put some people out of the market. Taken to an extreme, this means that any price, no matter how low, prices somebody out.

College is no exception (if you ignore the impact of grants, scholarships, loans, and tuition financing options).

Side note: I wonder why these students aren’t incensed about the people who were priced out by 2003-level tuition.

Now, turn my theory around: every dollar decrease in price lets somebody into the market. If a college education is a right, not a privilege, aren’t we morally obligated to make sure everybody can get in?

Just think of it. Free college education. The students will all benefit individually, and our community will benefit, too.

Of course, there’s one more major difference between K-12 and college education: the former is mandatory. It’s the law: all children aged 5 through 17 must attend school, whether it’s public, private, or home.

It has to be that way, you understand, because otherwise some parents would pull their kids out after the 10th, or 8th, or 6th grades. That drags society down.

By the same token, some people won’t want to attend higher education, regardless of the benefits to humanity. So perhaps, in addition to making college free, we should make it mandatory. It’s for the good of society, and for your own good, too.

Okay, so now I’m being ridiculous. Lots of things are better for us. Stop smoking, turn off the TV, get some exercise, read to your kids, take the wife out on a date once in a while. We all benefit when people do those things.

That doesn’t mean we should mandate them. In fact, we don’t want a society with the power to mandate those things. At some point, society has to allow individuals their own responsibility. At some point, we all have to take responsibility for ourselves.

That’s what I’d like these students to learn.

Campaign Finance Futility

Do we know how to reform our corrupt political system?

Ed Garvey does. Well, he says he does. He thinks he does.

Garvey is the über-liberal labor attorney, former Democratic gubernatorial sacrificial lamb, and curator of FightingBob.com. In a column this week, he spelled out the answer to corrupt politics: more taxes.

Well, not exactly, but close. In 1997, something called the Heffernan Commission, a “citizen’s panel,” convened to figure out how to de-corruptize Wisconsin politics.

Their answer was the same as Garvey’s: “Nothing short of full public financing for the nomination and election of all constitutional offices … will solve the problem of corruption in state government.”

The commission’s recommendations actually stop short of their conclusion: their plan is really only “full public financing” for those candidates who accept public financing.

Those who don’t accept can still be as corrupt as they want, I guess.

Would that work? No: it might narrow the gap, but some candidates will still have lots more money than others. Plus, the need to outspend taxpayer-funded candidates would make those contributions even more valuable, thus potentially dirtier.

What if we required all candidates to accept public funding? That would at least remove the incumbent’s ability to out-raise most potential challengers.

It would also remove the appearance of impropriety – the question of whether contributors “expect” something in return for their money.

And that would clean up our elections. Right?

Sure it would. Right after Elvis blows open the whole government conspiracy to hide the fact that space aliens were Lee Harvey Oswald’s accomplices.

Remember one thing: money is like water. It flows along the paths of least resistance. Close off one route, it will find another. Plug up one leak, another appears. Money, like water, will always, eventually, find a way.

We saw that in the last election cycle: the “527s,” which appeared as a result of McCain-Feingold. Since the parties themselves could no longer raise and spend millions, private citizens did it for them.

Did George Soros expect something in return for his investment? A little more influence than the common man over President Kerry, perhaps?

Maybe. Maybe not. But the question’s there, isn’t it? The appearance of impropriety.

So, limiting what candidates can raise and spend isn’t enough. Now we have to limit what individuals can spend, too. Maybe not me, and my measly $100. But what about me and my $100, plus the ten friends who give me $20 each, which I then use to print and hand out flyers the day before the election?

A pittance, right? What if me my ten friends each raised $300, then? $500?

Individually, of course. No coordination here. Yes, I know it looks that way, but trust me. We’re just eleven individual red-blooded American citizens, spending a little money to support the candidate we believe in.

In a Presidential campaign, $500 is almost nothing. In an Assembly campaign, though…five hundred bucks is a major contribution, worth a lot of appearance of impropriety.

I guess we’ll have to put some limits on that, too. Hmmm. Where do you suppose we should draw the line?

That’s the real problem with campaign finance reform: the logic always leads to limits on private citizens. Yes, I know: there are some very cheap ways to express oneself. Not the point. What is the point? I can print $500 worth of flyers to promote my teenage cousin’s grunge band, but not to promote my ideas – at least, not when I might influence a campaign, which is going to choose the people who can make my ideas a reality – or who can shoot them down.

Is the government supposed to have that authority?

So what’s the solution? There isn’t one – not a perfect one, anyway. There’s a lot of money and, worse, power in politics. That will always be true, and it will always attract corruption – regardless of the way we regulate campaigns.

The thing to do: pay attention. Candidates have to tell us how much they spend, and from whom they got the money. If money changes a politician’s mind, well, we can try to follow the paper trail. We can stand on soap boxes, write letters, post on the Internet. We can influence, without limiting somebody else’s ability to do the same thing.

Again, I know that’s not perfect, but at least it’s realistic. At least it doesn’t require government regulation of my expression, or yours, or even Garvey’s.

Yes, even Garvey’s. Hey, I said it wasn’t perfect.

Missing the Point on Churchill

Ward Churchill, the notorious Colorado professor, spoke at the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater today.

I call him “notorious” because “controversial” seems too complimentary.

On September 11, 2001, Churchill wrote a now-infamous essay, titled “‘Some People Push Back’ On the Justice of Roosting Chickens.” Here’s the most-cited part:

“If there was a better, more effective, or in fact any other way of visiting some penalty befitting their participation upon the little Eichmanns inhabiting the sterile sanctuary of the twin towers, I'd really be interested in hearing about it."

The “little Eichmanns” are the people who worked in the World Trade Center. The terrorists, to Churchill, were the good guys.

Churchill represents the worst of the hate-America crowd. We deserved it, in Churchill’s view. The people who died deserved it. 9/11 represented justice for America’s past crimes, real and imagined. In fact, we haven’t even begun to pay the bill.

That’s his view: the view that has made him the equivalent of a human canker sore. A big, open, seeping canker sore.

My two cents: I don’t care.

I’m supposed to, I know. I’m supposed to be outraged, but I’m not. Honestly, I couldn’t care less that he’s coming to Wisconsin, that he’s been invited to speak, or that he’s using a facility paid for by the taxpayers.

Hey, universities invite people to speak. Some of those people, we’ll like. Some we won’t. Some we’ll agree with. Others, we won’t. Sure, Churchill offers a particularly odious example of what looks, to me, like hate speech. But, since the whole concept of “hate speech” is hateful to me, I don’t care about that, either.

Free speech is free speech. This guy has every right to make himself look like an unmitigated ass. I just won’t pay attention when he does.

Now, that’s not to say I think the UW should let him speak. His invitation never should have been sent. Once sent, it should have been rescinded.

Why? Because he’s a fraud. Both personally and professionally.

This is the great under-reported aspect of the Churchill issue. He’s been accused of plagiarism, of misrepresenting sources, and of simply making things up in his scholarly research.

Most recently, this surfaced around a paper Churchill wrote, accusing the U.S. Army of purposely spreading smallpox among American Indian tribes in the 1830s.

Writes one critic: “…one must reluctantly conclude that Churchill fabricated the most crucial details of his genocide story. Churchill radically misrepresented the sources he cites in support of his genocide charges, sources which say essentially the opposite of what Churchill attributes to them.”

Other sources accuse Churchill of copying others’ artworks, and passing them off, even selling them, as his own.

And yet, that’s not the worst of it.

Churchill is a professor of American Indian studies. He got the job, in part, because he claimed to be part American Indian. Several sources, including tribal sources, say he’s lying.

The university has responded to these accusations, saying you don’t have to be an Indian to teach American Indian studies. Good point. White guys can do that, too.

But, if true, then Churchill lied about his background to get a job, just as he lied about his sources in order to write more dramatic, controversial papers – which by the way also reinforced his worldview, once those “facts” were included.

That’s not a free speech issue. That’s academic fraud. It ought to call everything Churchill says or writes into question. If the University of Wisconsin condones it, or seems to, then it also calls the UW’s standing as a serious university into question.

So the whole controversy, I think, is misguided. That’s not to say I don’t welcome it. I’m glad the storm’s been kicked up. The way I figure, the more people who know more about Churchill, the better.

Put this guy in the limelight. Put his views in the limelight. Let’s make him the face of pro-Saddam, pro-Taliban, pro-despotic regime anti-American Americans. Let him do for us now what Michael Moore did during the presidential campaign.

Then let’s ask Senators Kohl and Feingold what they think. Make sure the tape recorder is running.

But the real issue over Churchill coming to Whitewater isn’t whether his opinions are vile – it’s whether he lied on his resume, and in his scholarly research.

On the former, UW-Whitewater claims free speech. Fair enough. Do they think free speech covers academic dishonesty? If so, perhaps we ought to take a closer look at the professors who actually work there.