Is Smaller Always Better?

Milwaukee did it. So did Dane. Waukesha and St. Croix are thinking about it. My own hometown newspaper opined in favor of it.

There’s very little opposition, it seems, to reducing the size of our county boards.

We’ve got big boards here in Wisconsin, or so I’ve read. Other states have far fewer people on their counties’ governing bodies. Reducing their size is a good idea, for a lot of reasons.

Or so I’ve read. But I’m not convinced.

The Legislature recently passed, and the Governor recently signed, a bill allowing voter-led referendums to reduce the size of county boards. Direct legislation with a specific purpose: stick it to the Board!

That we can do it has led to discussion – not of whether we should do it, but of why we should. The only regular dissent so far has come from the Boards themselves – from the supervisors whose motive is obviously to protect their own cushy turf.

Well. I spent a couple years on Sauk County’s board, so maybe I’m just another insider. On the other hand, I’m not on the Board anymore. I have no turf to protect.

So I’ll play Devil’s Advocate. I’m just not convinced.

The Wisconsin State Journal is. A week ago, they editorialized: “The latest excuses for keeping the board bloated are easily dismissed.”

Here's another bogus excuse being shopped by some supervisors: If the Dane County Board is cut in half, the remaining members will have twice as much work to do.

Actually, with fewer people making decisions, County Board and committee meetings should go smoother, requiring board members to spend less time on the job. The board also could easily reduce the number of supervisors on each committee, and combine committees with similar purposes.

It may be that meetings will go smoother…because there are fewer people taking up oxygen with their incessant questions and discussion.

But smoother meetings aren’t the same as better meetings, or better oversight. In fact, the opposite seems more likely: fewer questions asked, less scrutiny, more bureaucratic authority, less citizen supervision.

And fewer supervisors would probably mean more committees per supervisor, meaning more for each supervisor to know, understand, keep track of.

In my two years on the Board, with only two standing committees, I was sometimes surprised by the amount of time the job required.

The WSJ also suggests that:

Fewer districts would encourage more competition for seats and give voters some real choices for county leadership.

They offer no analysis, which might lead them to that conclusion.

Not to undermine myself as Devil’s Advocate, but: State Senate seats are three times larger than Assembly seats, and they’ve been contested at much higher rates than Assembly races in the last two election cycles.

See? That’s analysis!

Of course, those are high-profile, partisan races. To fail to field a candidate is a black eye for a major political party. Whether that translates to local races, I don’t know. Perhaps a major state newspaper has the resources for a quantitative study.

That would be nice.

Will smaller boards increase visibility for each supervisor? Perhaps, but…ask the next ten people you see to name their Congressman. Odds are half of them won’t be able to.

What else? Will it save money? Maybe, for larger counties. Milwaukee County supervisors make $50,000 a year. The State Journal says cutting the Dane County Board in half will save $100,000 a year.

Smaller counties? Sauk County pays its supervisors $50 per board meeting and $40 per day of committee meetings. Most supervisors receive less than $3,000 a year. Cut the board in half (from 31 to 16), and save $40,000 (or so).

Hmmm. I’m willing to bet that $40,000 means more to Sauk County’s budget than $100,000 means to Dane County’s. So that’s worthwhile, isn’t it?

Maybe. Or maybe not. Not if fewer supervisors means more meetings per supervisor, which in turn means more per diems.

And certainly not if fewer supervisors comes to mean less effective oversight. Bureaucracies, whatever their purpose, don’t like to limit their own size. Their nature is to grow, to spend, to reach further than their current purpose and authority.

Controlling them requires external, independent authority. That’s why we’ve got county boards in the first place.

Let’s not forget this: the purpose of elected boards is to control – and keep under citizen control – government, and the bureaucracies that government creates.

Perhaps smaller county boards will make that oversight easier, but I don’t quite see how.

Can't Afford College?

It’s getting downright impossible for the average family to afford college.

Isn’t it obvious? It must be: everybody seems to believe it. Just like we believed it 20 years ago, when I was off to college.

It’s a given in today’s world. The middle class is getting squeezed, while the poor might as well get used to working fast food. There’s no college degree in store for them – it just costs too much.

Given the importance of education in the modern economy, this should worry all of us.

That’s why Governor Doyle proposed his “Wisconsin Covenant,” to help deserving students from low-income families afford a college education.

…the "Wisconsin Covenant," would let eighth-graders whose families meet certain income requirements sign a pledge promising they will take college-prep courses, maintain a high grade-point average and be good citizens. Then, when those students are ready for college and all other aid is exhausted, the state will cover whatever tuition gap remains through grants, subsidized loans or work-study jobs at any University of Wisconsin System campus that accepts them.

"… increasing access to the state's public university system for students from all income levels must be one of the state's top priorities," (UW System President Kevin) Reilly said in a statement…

"The cost at the University of Wisconsin is going up so (much) every year," parent, Fern) Murdoch she said. "It's making it harder and harder for families of modest means."

It’s true, tuition has risen quickly, particularly in the last few years. At the University of Wisconsin’s Madison campus, annual tuition increases have been 18%, 15%, and 19.5% the last three years.

Geez.

We could go through any number of statistics. UW is still pretty cheap, compared to other Big 10 schools, for example. And overall attendance continues to rise, despite the higher costs.

Or we could look at my favorite statistics: the ones that make you wonder whether the UW isn’t one enormously bloated bureaucracy that could be sliced right in half and still need a diet.

But at the risk of deflating a few dearly-held preconceived notions (or of looking silly while trying to do so), let’s focus on something else.

Let’s see if it really is so hard to pay for college.

How much does it cost to attend a UW school? For a resident undergrad at UW-Madison (the most expensive UW campus), tuition, on-campus housing and a meal plan will cost $12,010 for the 2005-06 school year.

Twelve grand is a lot of money – money most families can’t spare.

But break it down. Over the course of a year, that’s about $230 a week. At Wisconsin’s soon-to-be-$6.50 minimum wage, it would take 36 hours to earn.

Is that really so repressive?

Let me acknowledge a few problems with that analysis: that list of expenses is far from complete. It doesn’t include books, for example, and other school supplies. Clothes. Transportation.

Not to mention pocket money, Internet access, cell phone, the morning latte, etc.

But there are other sources of funds, too. Families will usually contribute something, even if it’s just hand-me-downs and the occasional bag of groceries.

Or spend a couple years in the Army, and get the G.I. Bill.

And there’s financial aid, which is specifically designed to benefit low-income students the most. Add that into the mix, and the question becomes: how can students not afford college?

Granted, college loans are a hardship. I myself am still paying off my college loans, nearly 20 years after I graduated from high school.

And what I suggest – lots of work combined with financial aid – isn’t easy. Most students (and their families) would cringe at the thought of working 36 hours a week while going to school.

Of course, a student could pick up more hours during summers and winter break, and thus work fewer hours during the semester. And find a job that pays better than minimum wage, and/or stick with the same job for your whole college career. You won’t make minimum wage for long.

It would be hard. No doubt about that. It would require effort. Sacrifice. Determination. Some won’t be able to see it through – they’ll end up at a technical school, instead (the horror!), or making their way on a high school diploma.

But, even at today’s tuition, even after three straight double-digit increases, it’s far from impossible. In this case, the fearful rhetoric is just that. Reality is something else.

Never Enough

It’s enough to make you want to give up.

Just throw your hands in the air, and your wallet at the nearest government bureaucrat.

Might as well. No matter how much we pay, it will never be enough.

The Baraboo School District is facing budget cuts again. We’re not alone, I’m sure. Budget cuts are the norm for school districts, and have been for quite some time.

Well, not cuts exactly. Baraboo’s school budget has been growing at about 3% per year – actually 3.8% between 2000 and 2004 (according to the DPI). The statewide average is about 5% a year.

Not massive increases, but healthy ones, faster than inflation.

Not enough. In 2003, the district put a referendum on the ballot, asking for an additional $7.5 million over three years.

The referendum failed badly, by nearly 4 to 1. The district accepted the outcome, and hasn’t attempted another referendum since.

Fast forward to today. Over the weekend, the Baraboo School District announced they have to “cut” $1.3 million from the budget. The recommendations include the entire high school French program and 8 other teachers.

Monday night, hundreds of people packed into the School Board meeting, mostly (according to the news report) to protest the cuts.

Note: the protests weren’t necessarily against any cuts. Just the ones the Board was considering.

But the question remains: how is this happening? How can reasonable increases in spending lead to these annual sky-is-falling scenarios?

There are lots of possible answers. We’ve all heard them before. Money’s tight. Mandates. Costs. Painful cuts. No end in sight. We’ll hear the same thing again, next year.

And not only us in Baraboo. Wherever you live, you are likely hearing the same thing. Every year, the same cry rises from the educational temple: not enough. We need more, or we’ll have to cut programs.

That’s it, give or take an adjective and some gnashing of teeth. Bottom line, taxpayers aren’t paying enough.

Let’s not forget the rest of government. Just name one department, agency, office, whatever, at any level of government, that says they’ve got enough money. Just one. “You know, we didn’t need as much money as we thought to do our work last year, so take some back. And give us less next year.”

Doesn’t happen. Never happens. The state’s current two-year budget is 10% bigger than the last one, and it still doesn’t happen.

At least the school districts can blame the revenue caps. They live under a real, enrollment-driven spending limit. Not so the state. No limits apply there. And yet there isn’t enough money.

I’m not alone in wondering: how can that be?

How can it be? How can it not be enough?

In 2005, Wisconsin taxpayers paid 30% of personal income to local, state, and federal taxes. Thirty percent – nearly one dollar out of every three earned in our state went to support government.

And that’s just taxes – not fees or other assessments.

Luckily, it’s nearly impossible to raise taxes at the state level. Politics just won’t allow it.

But that doesn’t mean the amount you pay isn’t going up. My own property tax bill dropped $11 this year, but next year I’ll have to pay the stormwater runoff assessment – the Rain Tax, expected to average $48 per household.

And if not that, well, maybe your property value rose. It costs more to register your car. To buy a hunting license. The state is finding new ways to tax things that weren’t taxed before.

And still, there isn’t enough money. Costs are rising too fast, we’re told. Faster than revenues.

Well, no kidding. My costs are going up, too. So are yours. School districts having a tough time dealing with gas prices? Join the club. Taxpayers are dealing with that, too.

But you can’t just tell the school district to deal with it like everybody else. You can’t tell the state to just deal with it.

You can’t, because students will show up to ask for their French classes back. Elderly women will ask how they’ll pay for their medicine. Cops will show up to explain how such and such a budget cut will put the public at risk.

You want lower taxes? How will you pay for it, you heartless bastard?

So you can’t cut spending. And we’re not even asking to cut spending. Only for reasonable increases. Oh, say, 3.8% a year.

But, no, that’s not enough. Never will be. No amount will.

Taking On the Giants

“…then they came for the oil companies, and I did not speak out because I was not an oil executive. Then they came for the low-price retail centers…”

They’re two of society’s favorite whipping boys – currently, at least. Wal-Mart, and oil companies. One, we despise for charging high prices, the other for charging low prices*. Both make enormous profits, and we hate them most for that.

Sensing populist opportunity (as any good politician does), Governor Jim Doyle mentioned both during his State of the State Address this week. Both, as usual, were cast as villains.

Even as we expand our commitment to health coverage, we need to make sure that some companies aren’t reducing theirs.

Wal-Mart is one of the most profitable companies in the world, yet it has more than 1,200 employees and dependents on BadgerCare—far more than any other company in the state. And Wisconsin’s taxpayers are picking up the tab.

I want to make this very clear to Wal-Mart and any other company that might be thinking of shifting its health care responsibility to taxpayers: BadgerCare is intended to help working families, not multibillion dollar corporations.

Tonight, I am calling on the Legislature to outlaw the practice of health care dumping. Companies cannot be allowed to deliberately manipulate the system. If they are dropping coverage for employees they know are eligible for state programs so they can increase profits, there should be serious consequences.

It is unfair … it is unethical … and we should make it illegal.

People who work at Wal-Mart aren’t “working families?” They’re all rich, then? Wow. No wonder Wal-Mart never has trouble attracting employees.

Is Wal-Mart “shifting” and “dumping” health care costs? Those words imply that they were offering health benefits, but pulled them back after finding…hey! Government welfare! Even WalMartWatch.com doesn’t make that assertion.

On to the oil companies:

I get angry just thinking about how, after Hurricane Katrina, as our fellow citizens clung to rooftops and searched the waters for lost relatives, the oil companies were running up their prices and reaping the largest corporate profits in history.

Some people have criticized me for taking on the oil companies – but I think we should be getting a refund from the $100 billion they racked up in profits last year.

There’s a scene in Atlas Shrugged: a mid-level bureaucrat is overheard telling a businessman “we’ll have to decide how much profit we want to let you make this year.”

Governor Doyle may not have decided how much profit they’re allowed to make, but clearly, he’s concluded that they’re making too much.

He’s basing that conclusion on politics. On the basic human fault of avarice. They have it, we don’t. Somehow, our flawed human nature tells us, that’s wrong. They should pay. Not us.

In this case, that human flaw leads us to condemn a legal action – offering a price, and, once accepted, paying it.

If it’s not legal, if oil companies are conspiring to keep their profit margins up, then we should use the anti-trust laws already on the books.

Legal is one thing. What about moral?

I’ve got questions about oil companies’ business practices, too. I wonder why they can’t somehow smooth the peaks and valleys (well, maybe just the peaks) of gas prices. I wonder why one company doesn’t throw itself into ethanol, or some other additive, to steal a competitive march on their rivals.

We can question the morality of big profits, just as we can question the morality of buying a $50,000 car, or a $5,000 plasma TV. If you’re hungry, and I charge you $20 for half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, we can question the morality of that.

But we also have to question the morality of taking my PBJ by force, without my consent. No matter how hungry you are.

More to the point, we really have to question whether we want our government to have that power. The power to take our property – including our money, which is, after all, our own profits – simply because populist politics makes it expedient for them to do so.

Sure, none of us make as much profit as Wal-Mart, or an oil company. So what’s the threshold? Governor Doyle gasps at $100 billion. How about $50 billion? Five?

Today, only “large corporations” (code for Wal-Mart) are targeted over health care. That can change, too, until even small businesses are required to, for example, go entirely non-smoking.

And tomorrow?

Think I’ll speak out now.

*Another blogger made this point first, but I can't remember who.

Asking Permission to Raise Our Kids

It’s a stab wound to Wisconsin’s successful School Choice program. The bleeding starts in just a couple of weeks, and no telling when it might stop.

Whoa. Such graphic imagery. The metaphor might be appropriate. Depends on who you ask. But there’s no arguing that the Choice program isn’t being allowed to work. An educational option – one that gets results – is being closed off. If there’s a good reason for that, I sure don’t know what it is.

And there’s a bigger problem, here. A deeper one. I’ll come to that.

A quick recap: the Milwaukee School Choice Program offers vouchers to poor families, so those families can send their kids to private schools, rather than government schools.

It’s become a model for the country. The kids get access to education they wouldn’t get, otherwise. The government schools have motivation to improve, which they wouldn’t have had otherwise.

Winners all around.

But there’s a cap on enrollment. Enrollment in the choice program can’t exceed 15% of enrollment in Milwaukee’s government schools.

Why 15%? I don’t know. Does anybody? I doubt it. Demand for the program is much higher than that, so on February 1st, Wisconsin’s educracy begins rationing spots. And the rationing system itself might be another twist of the knife.

Some of us blame Governor Doyle. He’s had chances to sign bills to expand the program, and he’s refused. Others are blaming the Republican-controlled Legislature.

It doesn’t really matter who’s to blame. Bottom line, a lot of kids will not get the opportunity that they would, if only the government would get out of the way.

My outrage is somewhat tempered, of course. I’m not demanding that the program be expanded statewide. Why not? Why aren’t all Choice advocates? Heck if I know. Kids in Racine and Appleton are, I believe, as valuable as those in Milwaukee.

Of course, kids elsewhere in the state do have other options. So do Milwaukee kids. The school choice cap means that families will be turned away from the program, but it doesn’t lock them in to failing public schools, either.

We have several ways to affect where our kids go to school in Wisconsin – Milwaukee parents, too.

First, obviously, private schools. Not an option for many of us. Private schools aren’t available everywhere. And then there’s the cost. After paying the property taxes to support government schools, the cost of private school is out of reach for most of us.

Then there’s homeschooling. Wisconsin actually has very liberal rules regarding homeschooling: all a parent has to do is sign a form, once a year, certifying that the child will receive X number of hours of instruction in that year. That’s it.

Government school officials hate that it’s so easy for parents to choose homeschooling. No accountability, they complain. Yes, they actually make that argument.

Ah, irony. We meet again.

Of course, homeschooling isn’t an option for many of us, either. Time, money, ability all play a part, and in Milwaukee, where (I’m guessing) more families are single-parent, it’s even less of an option.

Then there’s Open Enrollment. Before each school year, parents can request to send their kids to another district, even if they don’t live in that district.

Yes, there are some roadblocks to this, too. Transportation could be an issue – the schools aren’t required to provide it to Open Enrollment students. And although I believe schools generally approve the applications, they don’t have to.

And that right there is what really bugs me. Parents can choose a different government school…if they get government permission. Milwaukee parents can get a voucher through School Choice, but again, with the government permission. And now, it seems, if the government grudgingly agrees to let them in.

The real problem isn’t that Governor Doyle didn’t raise the caps.

The real problem is that parents have to get the government’s approval in the first place.

Our government – which, in the end, is what we’ve made it – requires that we send our kids to school. Then it tells us where we have to send them. If we want another option, well, we need government permission for that, too.

It begs the question: whose kids are they?

Should We Leave Iraq?

Should the U.S. begin an immediate, phased withdrawal of troops from Iraq?

Don’t worry, you don’t have to answer right away. You have until April 4. Or, rather, I do.

An anti-war (dare I say pro-Saddam? Or is anti-Bush enough?) group has collected enough signatures to put that question on my home town’s ballot, as an advisory referendum.

So when we Barabooians go to the polls on April 4, we’ll get to voice our opinion. In or out. Yes, or no. Go or stay. Those are our choices.

Seems awfully limited. If only “how the hell should I know” was an option.

We’re not alone. The question will hit the ballots in La Crosse, too, and probably in other places. Lots of others. You may want to check in your own town.

A touch of excitement for an otherwise tedious Spring election. Mayors, city councils, county boards. Things like that, usually, are what April elections decide. Ho-hum. Boring, for the most part. Low-turnout elections.

But not this year. Not with that question. This is important.

The dilemma: how do I decide how to vote?

I could vote yes. And why not? It’s a moot question. Our armed forces have already begun to draw down, albeit slowly. That’s what the question asks for, right? So what’s the big deal? Vote yes.

Another reason to vote yes: the question doesn’t commit me to anything. Sure, “immediate” is a pretty plain word, but “phased?” What if I favor an immediate Phase 1, and then a year before Phase 2? Another year for Phase 3?

It’s weaselly, waffley, indefinite. It leaves an escape hatch, if events turn against a withdrawal.

Hey, did Russ Feingold write this question?

Personally, I like the idea of a phased – and occasionally negative – withdrawal. Draw down a little bit over the next month, then stand still for a while. Then reduce our troop strength by half, and then bang! Suddenly send another couple of divisions!

Then everybody yell: “Psyche!”

That’ll keep the terrorists guessing. Not to mention Iran. A year or so of that and we’ll be in a much better position for a real draw down.

Should our military follow my advice? No. Oh, they might do what I suggested, but it won’t be because I suggested it.

And thank God for that.

I’m no military expert. Nor am I an expert on foreign policy, and that’s counting Minnesota. On a purely objective basis, I have no idea whether going into Iraq was the right thing to do, or whether our troops are serving a greater purpose by remaining there even one minute longer.

Please note, I think going into Iraq was the right thing to do, and that our troops are serving an extremely important purpose. Sure, I look forward to the day that the last American soldier brushes the last grain of Iraqi sand from his boot. But I believe we, and the world, are better served by a years-long deployment.

But I’m not qualified to make that determination.

If only there could be another option. Something besides yes or no. How about “yes, if they ask us to leave.” Or “yes, unless Iran keeps acting up.” Or “yes, unless long-term stability requires a stronger military presence than anybody else can provide?”

Is there room on the ballot for that? How about a basic “maybe?” Or better yet: “How the hell should I know?”

The last one would, at least, be honest.

In the end, I’m sure I’ll go vote, even if there’s nothing else on the ballot. And I’ll vote “no.”

I’ll do that, because I believe that the enemy has to believe that we’ve beaten them. That they’ve lost. That Iraq is a democracy, irrevocably. That the last thing on this Earth they want to do is to get the U.S. military involved, because it will be the last thing on this Earth that they do.

I’m afraid that, if we vote “yes” this April, a real victory will be impossible. It will empower our enemies. The enemies of Iraqi democracy. Give them hope that we’ll quit. It’s just a matter of time.

“Yes” votes will put pressure on our political leaders. Lessen our national resolve. Make it more likely that our military will deploy again.

On the other hand, a loud resounding “no” will have the opposite effect.

So I’ll go, I’ll vote, and I’ll vote “no.”

Even though I’d prefer “yes, if that’s what the generals think.”

Politics Ain't Beanbag, No Matter What We Think

Vice President John Adams was often called “His Rotundity” by members of Congress.

Alexander Hamilton was accused of having an adulterous affair with a married woman in 1797.

Political opponents spread rumors of Thomas Jefferson’s alleged affair with (and illegitimate child by) a slave woman very early in his political career.

Fighting Bob LaFollette was poisoned while single-handedly filibustering a bill in the U.S. Senate in 1908.

1928 Presidential candidate Al Smith, a Roman Catholic, was opposed with banners claiming “A Vote for Smith is a Vote for the Pope,” and “Rum, Romanism, and Ruin.”

Eleanor Roosevelt contracted gonorrhea (and gave it to FDR) after an interracial affair, according to rumors started by political opponents in the 1930s.

“I consider him to be a cut-throat and a murderer, and his wife a strumpet.” Gilbert Knapp (founder of Racine) speaking about presidential candidate Andrew Jackson in 1828.

In 1842, one member of Wisconsin’s territorial legislature shot another member to death during a heated floor debate.

Writer Finley Peter Dunne coined the phrase “politics ain’t beanbag.” Half a century (or so) later, Harry Truman paraphrased him: “If you want a friend in Washington, buy a dog.”

Politics is a contact sport. If you’re not getting your nose bloodied now and then, you’re not doing anything worthwhile.

That’s the nature of politics. There’s a lot at stake, so nobody ever wears gloves. It’s bare-knuckle all the way.

We don’t like that very much. We, as a society, see a lot of bickering and finger-pointing, name-calling and opportunistic piling on. That, instead of working together to do the people’s business.

This year, the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel says, the political pugilism has gotten an early start. A story titled “Mudslinging starts early in campaigns for governor” details the “negative tone” the gubernatorial campaigns have already taken, and how very “unfortunate” it all is.

We have it so much worse than previous generations did, don’t we? Or better, I guess. Depending on who you ask. And when. Politics is worse: more meanspirited, nasty, unfocused on the issues. Or so we think.

On the other hand, we don’t have to walk four miles uphill through three feet of snow to school every day. Both ways.

Not to be rude, but the annual whining about hardball politics – otherwise known as negative campaigning – reminds me of various sounds my children make when faced with chores, homework, rules. I don’t care if your friends are all watching that show. And that’s just at home. Don’t forget the cutthroat social politics of middle school.

It’s just not fair!

To which I shrug and say, yeah? That’s life, kid. Deal with it, and move on.

Which, of course, we do. All our complaining about negative campaigning ignores three things. One, that negativity is a mainstay in politics, and not just in the contemporary U.S. (“Et tu, Bruté?”). Two, that compared to the hardball tactics of decades and centuries past (see above examples), we’re wimps. And three: somehow, we do manage simply to deal with it, and move on. The average American family is not, I suspect, losing sleep over our politicians’ habit of saying mean things about each other.

Does that make it all okay? I suppose not. I’m sure the world would be a better place if our candidates and their surrogates could just stick to the facts, the issues.

On the other hand, all that arguing means the two sides are watching each other. That’s the beauty of the adversarial process – nobody gets away with anything easy.

And it isn’t all just opportunistic ankle biting. Whether or not a candidate will lie and cheat and subvert the rules is an issue, with a legitimate place in political debate. Let’s say a sitting Governor made policy decisions based on campaign contributions, just to take a randomly chosen example. His side will call it mudslinging, but there’s a real public interest in that information.

The flip side to that being: one side could simply make up false allegations of wrongdoing, or purposely blow something way out of proportion. To the average voter, it’s nearly impossible to tell the real accusations from the fake ones.

That’s where the rub comes in – it seems like there’s so much negative campaigning, whether or not there’s a campaign going on, we simply can’t sift through it all to see what’s real and what’s not.

The media (blogosphere included) is supposed to do that for us, but, well, they tend to amplify, rather than sift.

And yet, I find it amusing: every year, or every two, the exact same complaints about negative campaigning are dusted off, shined up, and re-used.

It’s so bad this year. Politics has become so personal.

And all the while, ten minutes of research finds dozens of examples not only from centuries past, but involving American icons who were, we would believe, above it all.

Ignoring the Past

Strength. Fortitude. Courage. Nobility of character. Perseverance. Leadership. Dedication to a way of life, to personal and social values.

Right or wrong, the image of proud Sioux warriors and stoic Apache women bring those qualities to mind. Qualities which, according to the educational bureaucratic powers-that-be, should not be represented in our schools and universities.

The NCAA has, in its wisdom, decreed that no mascots or nicknames modeled after Native Americans shall be allowed at its member schools.

Not to be outdone, Wisconsin’s educratic masters have followed suit. Superintendent of Public Instruction Libby Burmaster issued a statement this week, “asking” schools – an almost certain precursor to forcing schools – to drop Native mascots and nicknames.

“I believe that stereotypical American Indian logos do not support sound educational practice because they interfere with a school’s efforts to provide accurate information related to the history, culture, and tribal sovereignty of American Indian nations," Burmaster wrote. "In addition to ensuring sound educational practices, we need to ensure that all of our children feel welcome in our schools."

She sent all of Wisconsin’s government schools a resolution from the American Psychological Association, which “cites the potential negative impact of such nicknames and images on ‘the mental health of all students, particularly American Indian students.’”

“The continued use of American Indian mascots, symbols, images, and personalities establishes an unwelcome and oftentimes hostile learning environment that affirms negative images and stereotypes that are promoted in mainstream society.”

Now, maybe I’m not qualified to comment on this. I’m a Caucasian – of European descent. I’m a white guy. A white male. A white male Christian. I have no idea what it’s like to be oppressed and degraded because of my looks or the culture to which I belong.

Or perhaps I simply refuse to step into the sucking quagmire of victimization politics.

Plus, I was raised well before the days of bike helmets and seat belts. Before self esteem became the primary goal in child-raising and education. Before the sensitivities of the few became mandates for the rest of us.

Thus, I have no understanding of the pressures that bear on today’s children. I have no appreciation of the deep emotional and psychological mutilation that can result from games of tag, and faux-Indian headdresses.

Pity my own four children. They’re being raised by an ignorant Neanderthal.

Oh, well. Therapists have to eat, too.

There’s an irony here. One liberal element preaches tolerance and inclusiveness above all. Yet, in the name of tolerance and inclusiveness, this same liberal element would eliminate Native American names from an important place in our American culture.

Burmaster shivers that Native American-inspired nicknames “interfere with a school’s efforts to provide accurate information related to the history, culture, and tribal sovereignty of American Indian nations,” but really, what better icebreaker could there be?

Left alone, this cultural intertwining could be made into a beautiful friendship – the foot-in-the-door for Native Americans to spread knowledge about themselves and their history.

Baraboo High School calls themselves the Thunderbirds – and that’s not a reference to the car. Wisconsin Dells High School calls themselves the Chiefs. Both schools are located in a county named for the Sauk, in a state whose name also descends from a Native American word.

You’ve named yourselves after us, the Ho-Chunk could say. You’re using our images. We should be a part of your school. Let us come in now and then, and teach your students about our history. Our culture. Let us show them where their nickname comes from. What it means.

They would already have a connection with those students. A common, shared slice of life.

But never mind. To Burmaster and her ilk, it’s all about victims. There have to be victims, so they can side with the victims against those who victimize.

It allows them to attack others, while protecting them from the same kinds of attacks. It makes them feel good about themselves, and as we all know, that’s the most important thing.

Forgoing the politics of victimization might help forge stronger bonds. It might provide an avenue for teaching and learning about the “history, culture, and tribal sovereignty of American Indian nations.” It might actually help advance the very goals of tolerance and inclusion liberals claim to love.

But that would mean leadership, effort, opening oneself up to criticism. For the educational bureaucracy, this is too much to ask.

The Right (And Wrong) Decisions in Green Bay

I may not know what I want, but I damn well know that I want it.

Forty-eight hours ago, Mike Sherman was still head coach of the Green Bay Packers. Now, he isn’t.

What can we learn from this? That we know everything.

I certainly do. For example, I know Sherman shouldn’t have been fired. I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time since yesterday afternoon arguing that.

Also, that he should have been fired. And that Favre should retire. Or not. I’m absolutely sure of it.

In the end, it doesn’t really matter. We can bitch and moan all day and all night about what does and/or does not happen, and it’ll happen (or not) anyway. What matters is how things turn out. Next year, three years from now, five years from now.

Will the decisions of today turn out to be the right ones? If so, I’ll be happy. If not, heads better roll.

The news of Sherman’s firing hit us quickly, flashing across the screen during the first half of Monday’s Badger game. My 12-year-old son immediately exclaimed his disapproval with a vigor that would have caused his mother to exclaim her disapproval of his exclamation, had she been listening.

I, as father, expressed no such disapproval. We dads are more forgiving that way. Instead, I offered a rationale for the firing – the alternative point of view, so to speak, even though I didn’t really believe it.

Let’s face it: any coach whose team goes 4-12 after four declining years has to know he’s on the hot seat, and that certainly describes Sherman’s Packers.

On the other hand, you can’t discount the injuries they had this year (Noah Herron was, by my count, the 6th-string running back), and except for the Monday Night game at Baltimore, the team never appeared to quit on any game, or on the season.

A neat trick, considering how frustratingly ineffectual they were for most of the year.

On the other hand, two lost playoff games at Lambeau Field can’t so easily be forgiven. And let’s not forget that Sherman was both coach and GM for his first six years. Once demoted, with a new boss in town, the writing might have been on the wall. A new boss should get to hire his own guy.

On the other hand, Brett Favre has said publicly he doesn’t want to learn a new offense. Doesn’t want to start all over. Speculation is rampant as to whether Sherman’s firing means Favre’s retirement.

And…so? Clearly, Favre isn’t what he used to be. Sure, he was moving around the pocket as well as ever this year, bouncing off defensive linemen like a spry 25-year-old Favre. Still enjoying the game. And leading, it seemed to me, more than ever. But his accuracy has faded, along with (so it seems) his decision-making.

Maybe it’s time for the Green and Gold to move on?

No. No. A thousand times no. Even if Favre were only half the player he still is, he’s still better than most. Just one more season, even a so-so one, and he’ll break the records for passing yards and touchdowns. Bring him back, and give him better receivers!

Hey, Steve Mariucci is available. Sure, he had a tough time in Detroit, but that’s not all his fault. The Lions’ front office is known to smell worse than the city they represent.

Mariucci and Favre go way back. That might help Favre to stay.

What’s the right decision?

In the end, I don’t know. Neither do you. Should the Packers keep their top-7 draft pick, or trade down for more picks later on? Should they have drafted Aaron Rodgers last year, and why doesn’t anybody ever notice Craig Nall? Should they hire Mariucci? Promote Jim Bates, or just do what they can to keep him?

Don’t know. Don’t know. Don’t know. And neither do you.

But I know what I want, and I want the playoffs. I want a Super Bowl. I want to sweep the Vikings and the Bears.

So, whatever decisions get made, they should be the right decisions. That is what I want.

Too bad, I won’t know if I’ve gotten it for at least a few years.