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Joe Biden has vowed to pick a woman as his running mate. But of the many qualified contenders, who should win the veepstakes? Michelle and Frank have different ideas as to whose name on the ticket could help push Mr. Biden to victory in November.

Then, editorial board member Jesse Wegman joins Ross and Frank for a Supreme Court battle: has SCOTUS usurped Congress when it comes to legislating Americas culture wars?

Background Reading:

Ive been an Op-Ed columnist for The Times since 2011, but my career with the newspaper stretches back to 1995 and includes many twists and turns that reflect my embarrassingly scattered interests. I covered Congress, the White House and several political campaigns; I also spent five years in the role of chief restaurant critic. As the Rome bureau chief, I reported on the Vatican; as a staff writer for The Timess Sunday magazine, I wrote many celebrity profiles. That jumble has informed my various books, which focus on the Roman Catholic Church, George W. Bush, my strange eating life, the college admissions process and meatloaf. Politically, Im grief-stricken over the way President Trump has governed and Im left of center, but I dont think that the center is a bad place or compromise a dirty word. Im Italian-American, Im gay and I write a weekly Times newsletter in which youll occasionally encounter my dog, Regan, who has the run of our Manhattan apartment.

Ive been an Op-Ed columnist since 2009, and I write about politics, religion, pop culture, sociology and the places where they all intersect. Im a Catholic and a conservative, in that order, which means that Im against abortion and critical of the sexual revolution, but I tend to agree with liberals that the Republican Party is too friendly to the rich. I was against Donald Trump in 2016 for reasons specific to Donald Trump, but in general I think the populist movements in Europe and America have legitimate grievances and I often prefer the populists to the reasonable elites. Ive written books about Harvard, the G.O.P., American Christianity and Pope Francis, and decadence. Benedict XVI was my favorite pope. I review movies for National Review and have strong opinions about many prestige television shows. I have four small children, three girls and a boy, and I live in New Haven with my wife.

Ive been an Op-Ed columnist at The New York Times since 2017, writing mainly about politics, ideology and gender. These days people on the right and the left both use liberal as an epithet, but thats basically what I am, though the nightmare of Donald Trumps presidency has radicalized me and pushed me leftward. Ive written three books, including one, in 2006, about the danger of right-wing populism in its religious fundamentalist guise. (My other two were about the global battle over reproductive rights and, in a brief detour from politics, about an adventurous Russian migr who helped bring yoga to the West.) I love to travel; a long time ago, after my husband and I eloped, we spent a year backpacking through Asia. Now we live in Brooklyn with our son and daughter.

Tune in on iTunes, Google Play, Spotify, Stitcher or wherever you listen to podcasts. Tell us what you think at argument@nytimes.com. Follow Michelle Goldberg (@michelleinbklyn), Ross Douthat (@DouthatNYT) and David Leonhardt (@DLeonhardt) on Twitter.

The Argument Is a production of the New York Times Opinion section. The team includes Phoebe Lett, Lauren Kelley, Paula Schuzman and Pedro Rafael Rosado. Special thanks to Brad Fisher, Constanza Gallardo, Sara Nics and James T. Green.

Read more:
Place Your Bets on Bidens V.P. - The New York Times

For one thing, the laws ambiguities provide ample space for even a mind that imagines itself constrained even Scalias mind, in some cases to argue its way into ruling on behalf of its ideological objectives. Meanwhile politics abhors a power vacuum, and our juristocracy has claimed new powers in part because Congress doesnt want them, a tendency that originalism is powerless to change.

And the public seems to have accepted this abdication. The main question in American social life, the blogger Tanner Greer recently observed, is not how do we make that happen? but how do we get management to take our side? The Supreme Court, clothed in meritocratic authority, seems more like management than Congress.

All of these tendencies converged in Gorsuchs decision. The goal of his ruling, civil rights protections for gay and transgender Americans, is widely shared; the problem is that Congress has no desire to negotiate over the uncertain implications for religious liberty, single-sex institutions, transgender athletes, and more. So Gorsuch (with Robertss support) took the burden on himself, discovering the desired protections in the text of the 1964 Civil Rights Act (an act of sophistry, not interpretation) and then suggesting that all the uncertainties would be worked out in future cases in other words, by Neil Gorsuch, arbiter of sexual and religious liberties alike.

That a textualist philosophy and a Federalist Society pedigree didnt restrain him from this self-aggrandizement suggests the conservative legal movement needs either a new theory of its purpose, a new personnel strategy, or both.

But outside the right, the welcome afforded Gorsuchs ruling which reached the popular outcome, and relieved our legislators of a responsibility they didnt want is a telling indication of how our system is understood to work. We may officially have three branches of government, but Americans seem to accept that its more like 2.25: A presidency that acts unilaterally whenever possible, a high court that checks the White House and settles culture wars, and a Congress that occasionally bestirs itself to pass a budget.

What sort of Republic this is, and whether we will keep it, is for a higher court than Neil Gorsuchs to decide.

Go here to see the original:
The Tempting of Neil Gorsuch - The New York Times

Everyone I know has a place to which they dream of going when travel once again becomes easy or, more importantly, safe. Some imagine a journey to visit family in another part of our country. One friend hopes to fulfill her lifelong ambition of seeing the Northern Lights in Iceland. And lately, since my Italian friends have been posting, on social media, images of the empty streets of Rome, the placid canals and under-populated piazzas of Venice, Ive found myself counting the days until I can visit Italy, the country (other than my own) where Ive always felt happiest, most comfortable, most at home. Ive fantasized how many masks and bottles of hand sanitizer it would require for me to take advantage of the cheap flights and ignore the obvious risks of transatlantic travel and meet my friends for a dish of fried artichokes and spaghetti alle vongole in my favorite outdoor trattoria in Trastevere.

But now, it seems, the bad news about our political situation has once again intensified the terrible news about the virus. And its begun to appear that even if we wanted to travel to Europe even if had the money and were willing to take that considerable risk we might not be allowed to go.

Over the past days, the European Union has announced it is considering excluding Americans from the list of travelers who will be admitted to EU countries when their borders open up on 1 July. Its not a matter of politics, not a retaliation for the fact that Donald Trump has banned travelers from Europe from entering the United States, but a more commonsense scientific decision based solely on criteria having to do with health: America has done such a poor job of controlling the Covid-19 outbreak that our infection rate is increasing dramatically while that of most European nations (and others such as Cuba, China and Vietnam) is either remaining stable or decreasing. Were simply too dangerous too likely to bring the deadly virus along with the more welcome (and needed) tourist dollars.

Clearly, its not a decision that will be made lightly. American tourists contribute heavily to the European economy, and a travel ban will significantly affect the ability of American companies to do business abroad. But unlike the US states that rushed to reopen too soon, that so clearly prioritized economic recovery over human life, the EU countries are saying theyd rather take the financial hit than see more of their citizens die.

Of course, given the current state of our economy, its unlikely that all that many Americans will be able to afford that dream trip to Paris this summer, even if we were allowed entry into France. Still, its a strange feeling: in just a few months, weve become a pariah nation. Weve gone from being admired for our spirit, our culture, our stalwart devotion to freedom despite our governments persistent attempts to curtail those freedoms and are now being viewed as a nation of super-spreaders, a danger to our own health and that of the hotel reception clerk, the waiter at the caf, the two innocent grandmas with the bad luck to sit at a table too near the Americans sipping their morning cappuccini.

Its a clear rebuke to the way that Donald Trump has handled the Covid-19 crisis: refusing to take it seriously, promising that the virus will fade away, advocating unproven cures, and (perhaps most unbelievably of all) suggesting that wearing a mask is a political gesture: a sign that we dont like him. But given that Trump has proven himself incapable of being embarrassed by anything except perhaps the low turnout at one of his rallies it seems unfair that we should be the ones who are being made to feel ashamed of what has happened to the ways in which the world views us.

And yet as much as Id like to like to blame Trump for the tragic way in which this crisis has played out, the truth is that its largely but not entirely his fault. Blame must also be laid at the feet of the governors who ignored the CDC warnings and rushed to re-open their states, and on a system that lacks a safety net to help us through crises like this, so that people are forced to choose between going to work and possibly getting sick or letting their families go hungry and lose their homes.

But finally, if the Europeans dont want us anywhere near them, some of the responsibility lies with those Americans who so proudly and fiercely insist on their God-given freedom to spread the virus.

Trump has consistently modeled bad behavior by refusing to wear a mask. He has unconscionably tried to turn the question of mask-wearing into yet another battle in the culture wars, but so far he has not made it illegal to wear a mask and to help stop the spread of infection. Being safe and smart is still our individual prerogative. So if youre concerned about the poor job we have done in keeping our neighbors and loved ones from dying, about the sharp spike in infections and hospitalizations, and now about the fact that we might not be allowed to travel to the destinations we have been dreaming about during this long quarantine, you might want to look in the mirror. And see if you are wearing a mask.

Go here to see the original:
How did America become a pariah nation of super-spreaders? - The Guardian

Photo: Mario Tama | Getty Images

Commentary: The tempting of Neil Gorsuch

It might surprise contemporary Americans that for most of our history, what we call culture war debates arguments about rights, social justice, the moral organization of society were often settled through democratic deliberation, rather than the kind of ruling the Supreme Court just delivered on gay and transgender civil rights. Congress debated and passed laws. State legislatures did the same. Constitutional amendments were proposed, passed, ratified and when necessary, repealed.

This was true even when the debates in question led to the Civil War. In 1864, while Ulysses Grant and William Sherman prepared their offensives, Abraham Lincoln didnt demand that the Supreme Court declare slavery unconstitutional. Instead, he pushed the Senate to amend the Constitution to abolish it.

Subsequent battles over Catholicism and public education, womens suffrage and temperance all had similar legislative goals. The long struggle for civil rights was aided by Brown v. Board of Education and Loving v. Virginia, but the crucial action was in Congress, where the major civil rights laws ultimately passed. The following decade, feminists naturally sought their own constitutional amendment, the Equal Rights Amendment, and its defeat was seen as a milestone in conservatisms rise.

All of those battles belong to a lost world. Today, constitutional amendments have become unimaginable, Congress barely legislates, and the Supreme Court manages our social and cultural debates. Our affirmative action system was designed by Lewis Powell and amended by Sandra Day OConnor. The boundaries of voting rights and free expression are policed by John Roberts. Our abortion laws reflect the preferences of Anthony Kennedy. And now anti-discrimination law and religious liberty protections will reflect what Neil Gorsuch, author of the new decision, thinks is right and good.

Occasionally, a conservative ruling or Republican appointment threatens to inspire a left-wing revolt against the juristocracy. But the courts have not yet claimed as much power over economic policy as over social policy, and the willingness of Republican appointees to swim leftward on social issues has reassured liberals that judicial power is just a natural extension of meritocracy.

This means its been left to religious conservatives the losers in many of the courts culture-war decisions, going back to the school prayer rulings after World War II to make the consistent case against the judicial usurpation of politics.

In making that case, conservatives have championed constrained schools of legal interpretation, originalism and textualism, against a values-driven jurisprudence. A living constitutionalism naturally usurps democratic powers, the argument goes, in a way that a jurisprudence bound to textual language or original intent does not.

There was power and plausibility in this view, especially as embodied in the brilliance of the late Antonin Scalia. But it always reflected a slightly naive view of how power works and grows.

For one thing, the laws ambiguities provide ample space for even a mind that imagines itself constrained even Scalias mind, in some cases to argue its way into ruling on behalf of its ideological objectives. Meanwhile, politics abhors a power vacuum, and our juristocracy has claimed new powers in part because Congress doesnt want them, a tendency that originalism is powerless to change.

And the public seems to have accepted this abdication. The main question in American social life, blogger Tanner Greer recently observed, is not, How do we make that happen? but, How do we get management to take our side? The Supreme Court, clothed in meritocratic authority, seems more like management than Congress.

All of these tendencies converged in Gorsuchs decision. The goal of his ruling, civil rights protections for gay and transgender Americans, is widely shared; the problem is that Congress has no desire to negotiate over the uncertain implications for religious liberty, single-sex institutions, transgender athletes and more. So Gorsuch (with Roberts support) took the burden on himself, discovering the desired protections in the text of the 1964 Civil Rights Act (an act of sophistry, not interpretation) and then suggesting that all the uncertainties would be worked out in future cases in other words, by Gorsuch, arbiter of sexual and religious liberties alike.

That a textualist philosophy and a Federalist Society pedigree didnt restrain him from this self-aggrandizement suggests the conservative legal movement needs either a new theory of its purpose, a new personnel strategy or both.

But outside the right, the welcome afforded Gorsuchs ruling which reached the popular outcome and relieved our legislators of a responsibility they didnt want is a telling indication of how our system is understood to work. We may officially have three branches of government, but Americans seem to accept that its more like 2.25: A presidency that acts unilaterally whenever possible, a high court that checks the White House and settles culture wars, and a Congress that occasionally bestirs itself to pass a budget.

What sort of Republic this is, and whether we will keep it, is for a higher court than Gorsuchs to decide.

Ross Douthat is a columnist for The New York Times.

See the rest here:
Commentary: The tempting of Neil Gorsuch - Jacksonville Journal-Courier

For the most part, the protesters are from the upwardly mobile classes most strikingly illustrated by the young Ivy League-educated lawyers who threw Molotov cocktails in the New York protests at the end of May.

This global cohort and the global movement they have attached themselves to under that ultimate corporate asset, a global brand, has now turned its rage on statues. Ironically, the statues that they are defacing and tearing down commemorate the Anywheres of their times: these are the men who explored the world, sought to evangelise or to enslave indigenous populations, did global business, and brought the world closer together by connecting continents with one another.

Now the culture wars are back as a battle over whether to preserve the pomp of history or to erase it.

These are the men whose ideas of social justice, for better and for worse, formed the ideas of the populations they reported their adventures to on returning home. Davos Man before there was Davos. And many of them were wrong, cruel, bigoted, misguided or simply imperfect, but they thought they were doing the world a favour, much as do theirdescendants, who are now ripping down their likenesses in the name of modern social justice.

So now the culture wars are back as a battle over whether to preserve the pomp of history or to erase it. In the intervening years, the statues have become the property of the Somewheres, part of the fabric of the culture they identify with and which they seek to retain in the face of the homogenising force of internationalisation.

They are right to resist historical revisionism, which wilfully twists history into unrecognisable narratives suitable to the progressive aesthetic. But we must re-examine history to learn from it. Whatever we are getting wrong now, the clues to understanding it lie in the mistakes we have made before.

Whatever we have built of value, by way of institution or morality, is also distilled by revisiting the past armed with the improved perception of hindsight. Those who would preserve culture kill it when they put a stake in the ground and say: history can go this far but no further. History ends here.

In the same way, the Anywheres are trying to draw a line under the past once the past is cleansed or erased, the old nuances can be forgotten. The shadow of a new wrong in todays revolutions is denied. History can start here.

Both these attitudes are fundamentally nihilistic. For the Somewheres, Gurri points out, utopia is in the past, and for the Anywheres utopia is in the future the present sucks, no matter what.

Which is why fighting the culture wars is so reassuring in unstable times. The present sucks, observably. The culture wars allow us to slip into identities that make sense of the world, in which it is enough to oppose and shift the onus of proposing onto delegates: corporations and our elected officials. Never mind that we have collectively lost faith in their integrity and in the efficacy of the institutions they represent.

It is easier to grumble about corporate cowards and demand politicians abide by the moral codes we are too lazy to uphold; to outsource speech to the media and action to the activists.

And this is why the culture wars are both dangerous and futile: they are the howls of frustration of deeply nihilistic counterparties. Nothing positive emerges from them.

Culture is important, but culture is what we build, the lives we lead, our contribution to society, and the improvement of humanity when it understands itself. Culture isnt a war, its an edifice we each contribute to. The personal, in our fractured digital world, is deeply political.

Go here to read the rest:
Nihilists fighting the past and the future - The Australian Financial Review