A minimum of logical argument on minimum wage

The state’s editorial boards were nearly unanimous in their opposition to today’s minimum wage question. Most pointed to the requirement that the wage increase be indexed for inflation annually, and many cited constitutional concerns.

What is striking is how these arguments fail the basic test of logical argument. The constitutional argument, as outlined by the Chamber of Commerce and the rest of the business community, is that adding a wage issue or an employment issue to the state constitution amounts to special-interest tampering with a sacred document designed to protect individual rights.

When outlined this way, it is tough to argue against. The problem is that it is built on a flawed premise. In defining the minimum wage as being just a wage-and-hour or employment issue, it ignores what the wage is really designed to do, which is set a floor on wages that gives low-wage workers a fighting chance to survive. The wage, in this way, is a rights issue — a way of enforcing the right to a minimum standard of living, of defending one of the four freedoms that Franklin Roosevelt detailed 70 years ago, the right to be free from want.
 This is debatable, of course, but not to the state’s editorial boards, which seemed to just buy the business community’s constitutional argument without much of a thought or ignore the constitutional question altogether.

Obviously, I support the minimum wage increase and passing ballot question 2, but that is not the point I want to make here. What strikes me and troubles me is the loose logic used by editorial boards around the state not only in their opposition to the wage referendum, but on other issues — best exemplified, of course, by the Star-Ledger editorial “supporting” Gov. Christie for re-election.

Here I am going to quote from The Record’s public question editorial, not to pick on it, but because I think it is pretty typical of the argument being made.

The state constitution should not be amended over the minimum wage. And while inflation has not been a concern for several years, that will not always be the case. Once the constitution is amended, short of another statewide referendum, it is set in stone. Regardless of the economic picture, the minimum wage will rise automatically. We agree no one can live above poverty earning $7.25 an hour. Emotionally, the desire to increase the minimum wage is a no-brainer.

But this is not the way to do it. The Legislature should have fought with Christie on an acceptable compromise. Considering that the dollar amount on the ballot is the same figure Christie countered with makes it obvious that if a compromise was wanted, a compromise could have been achieved. We support raising the minimum wage.

So, The Record opposes the wage hike because it says it should not be included in the state constitution, right? That’s true, but I defy any reader to read the full editorial and explain why. The Record says this, but then fails to actually make the case. It’s argument boils down to: We don’t think it should be there, so therefore it shouldn’t be there.

It would have been nice had The Record actually explained why. The Chamber of Commerce and other business groups have made the case — that the constitution is not meant for employment debates or end-runs around the political process — so the argument is out there in the ether.

As for its argument against indexing — I could live with it if the bias of the editorial writers were made more obvious. Inflation is not an issue now, as the board writes, but it could be. And when it is, the board continues, businesses are likely to be screwed. But here is what the Record editorial board has neglected to say: Without indexing the wage for inflation, low-wage workers will see the value of the minimum wage deteriorate as the cost of living rises. If inflation becomes an issue, low-wage workers would get screwed without the indexing feature. The Record has decided to toss its lot in with the business community. Again, this is its prerogative, but it has a responsibility to be more explicit about this bias.

The Asbury Park Press (and the rest of its Gannett sister papers), which opposed the question in a tepid and wavering editorial, and the Ledger, one of the few major papers in the state to endorse the wage increase, are guilty of the same kind of faulty logic. The Press, for instance, is unsure, thinks the wage needs to increase, but not with a CPI provision, so maybe they should go back and start over in the Legislature, but who can trust the Legislature, but we need the increase, but — well, vote no. And it ignores the constitutional question.

As for the Ledger, it makes a strong (if incomplete) economic case for the increase, but then dismisses the constitutional question — which is a big one. Its reasoning — that the governor gave the Legislature no choice — has nothing to do with whether these kinds of issues should be addressed by the constitution. In terms of its logic, this dismissal actually supports the argument being made by the business lobby that the vote today could open the state’s charter to thorny questions on which the governor and Legislature cannot agree. (This would be a good argument for an initiative and referendum process, but not for the current minimum wage vote.)

As my students might say, the state’s papers have turned this debate into a “hot mess.”

Newspaper editorial boards should weigh in on important issues (as opposed to endorsing candidates), but they need to do a better job of constructing their arguments and being transparent about how they frame those arguments. Editorial writers have a responsibility to readers to provide fully fleshed out arguments that follow the basic rules of logic, to make the premises that underlie their arguments clear and make their biases known. Doing this gives the reader the ability to raise questions and judge the argument being offered by the paper.

The editorials by the state’s newspapers over the last few weeks on the minimum wage question have failed to do this.


Send me an e-mail.

Serving House Journal publishes excerpts of Tent City poem

It was early 2012 when I first encountered Tent City. Sherry Rubel, a photographer who had done work for my Patch sites, had posted a press release to South Brunswick Patch explaining a Kickstarter campaign she had launched focusing on what was supposed to be a photo-music collaboration focusing on the tent encampment. I found it intriguing and, having recently read C.D. Wright’s remarkable One Big Self — a book that started with a photographer inviting the poet to write about the prisoners she was photographing — for my master’s thesis, it was clear to me that I had to get involved.

I reached out to Sherry and, eventually, brought in documentary filmmaker Jack Ballo and The Tent City Project was born. The idea was for each of us to spend time in the tent encampment, but to follow our own creative paths. Jack’s film, Destiny’s Bridge, opened in August with a small photo exhibit by Sherry and, while the bulk of the work was finished on my manuscript, I was not getting any bites from publishers.

That changed last night when the prestigious Serving House Journal posted  issue no. 8 last night. The issue features three selections from As an Alien in a Land of Promise, my poem, and six photos from Sherry, along with an author’s statement. It is an exciting moment, not only because my work is getting published alongside nationally renowned writers like Billy Collins and and my friends Tom Kennedy and Walter Cummins, and not only because Sherry’s wonderful photos are getting the national play they deserve, but because the plight of the people in the camp — and the larger group of people they represent — is continuing to get exposure.

Make no mistake, the individual stories are important and Tent City residents are now facing a difficult winter. Despite a consent order agreed to earlier this year that was supposed to result in housing for camp residents and the closure of the camp, the homeless and their de facto leader Steve Brigham are still battling with authorities in Lakewood whose primary goal remains erasing Tent City from existence.

Both sides carry some blame here — the encampment, because of the larger failure of American society to deal with what the reality of homelessness says about our economy, has continued to grow, in contravention of the agreement, and the township of Lakewood, because of its continued antipathy to the people in the camp. And both are also right in their claims — if not in the woods, then where, the homeless say, while the immediate neighbors of the camp complain about its very real impacts (smoke, noise, etc.).

The project for me was about both these individual and about what Tent City — and the hundreds like it around the country — means metaphorically. If we can continue to treat men and women as disposable, if we can view them as refuse because they may not have something to offer a capitalist system that judges worth purely on its impact on the corporate bottom line, then we will never be able to rid ourselves of tent encampments no matter how many affordable houses we create and no matter how high we raise the minimum wage (both of which I support).

The homeless, in the American capitalist system, are refuse. And they are weeds — invaders in the garden of consumerism, finding dead areas in which to live, to survive, parasites to some but clarions to those of us who view the system itself as choking on its own brutal illogic.

Send me an e-mail.

Trivial thoughts for NBA opening night

The 2003 draft is considered by many to be the greatest draft in NBA history. That draft brought us not only LeBron James, but Carmelo Anthony, Dwayne Wade and Chris Bosh, along with some solid role players.

The 1984 draft, I would argue, was its equal. Hakeem Olajuwan, Michael Jordan, Charles Barkley and John Stockton — four hall-of-famers — went in the first round, along with Sam Perkins, Alvin Robertson and Kevin Willis, who had very solid NBA careers.

And 2008 has shaped up to be pretty good so far — if beset by serious injuries — with Derrick Rose, Russell Westbrook and Kevin Love going in the first five picks (OJ Mayo, Dano Galinari, Roy Hibbert and Brook Lopez went in the first round that year).

What I find interesting about both the 2003 and 1984 drafts, however, is not the star power, but the underlying stories — the huge mistakes made with high-level picks. These are the drafts that brought us Sam Bowie and Darko Milicic — chancy picks that made little sense at the time and even less in hindsight.

Bowie is the definition of a draft-day mistake (though, I would argue not the worst pick — we’ll get there in a second). Bowie went second in 1984, with Portland opting for size and passing on Michael Jordan. This dynamic is what defines that draft, what makes it memorable. The Blazers passed on Jordan? Really? That’s crazy. No one remembers that Houston passed on Jordan first — though, to be fair, they did take one of the greatest centers with the first pick and they ultimately rode him to two titles (both when Jordan was “retired”).

Dallas picked fourth that year, opting for Perkins, who was a good pro whose best years ended up being played in Los Angeles, and passing on Barkley, probably the greatest player to never win an NBA championship. Stockton went 16th.

In 2003, it was pretty obvious that James was going to go first, coming straight out of high school. There were some who liked Anthony, who had just won a title with Syracuse as a freshman, but James was as close to a consensus as you can get. What happened next makes little sense. Joe Dumars, the GM in Detroit, opted for a 7-foot European teenager with little track record. Milicic went second to a team that, at least in theory, could afford to take its time with the teen. Milicic never panned out and was barely passable as an NBA player — he hung around because 7-footers tend to hang around. But he had few productive spurts in the league.

The next three guys? Carmelo Anthony and James’ teammates Dwayne Wade and Chris Bosh, making Milicic one of the worst picks in the history of the league.

This is the key element needed when evaluating epically bad picks: who did you pass on and what did you give up to make the pick happen.

Take the Knicks, a franchise with an absolutely awful track record. Remember Frederic Weis? Knick fans do, but not because of his ability on the court. He failed to play a game in the NBA, which would have been bad enough. But the Knicks opted for the French big man with the 15th pick in 1999 and passed on New York favorite son Ron Artest, a defensive maven with a very Knick-like attitude. That, for Knick fans, was rubbing salt in the wound. Oh, Andrei Kirilenko went 24th.

My picks for worst draft picks in NBA history:

1. Joe Barry Carroll by Golden State in 1980. Carroll had a passable NBA career, a big man who could score playing on a bad team. He even averaged about 18 points and 8 rebounds a game for an 11-year career, which is not bad. So why rank him no. 1? Because the Golden State Warriors traded up to get him — from no. 3. The deal goes like this: The Celtics, holding the no. 1 pick, send it to the Warriors along with the 13th pick for the Warriors’ no. 3 pick and — and this is key — center Robert Parrish, an underused four-year veteran. The Celtics then pick Kevin McHale with the third pick and the game’s greatest frontline is born. Larry Bird, who arrived the year before, now had the running partners that would define Celtic success for the next decade, including three titles. Golden State is still looking for a ring.

2. Sam Bowie. See above.

3. Greg Oden by Portland in 2007. Big man with big defensive potential, but whom many said had old-man’s legs (I can’t find the link) and who just seemed to lack something. Kevin Durant, who went second, lacked nothing and, in fact, was being touted as a potential franchise player. Oden, as Bill Simmons said before the draft, was the conventional pick. Conventional wisdom won out in 2007. Durant, however, has won the battle that matters.

4. Milicic. See above.

5. Kwame Brown by Washington in 2001. Brown was one of three high school players drafted in the first four picks — Tyson Chandler and Eddy Curry were the others. Brown was supposed to have an NBA body. He was supposed to be the prototype big man and would carry the Wizards into the future. And he was the man Michael Jordan, Wizard GM, wanted. What Brown ultimately proved, however, was that Jordan was fallible. Brown has had a passable career coming out of a terrible draft (though it did produce four future all-stars). The men who went two and three? Chandler, who won a title with Dallas and was Defensive Player of the Year with the Knicks, and Pau GAsol, Kobe’s running mate during the last Laker title run. (This doesn’t account for Zach Randolph going 19th and future hall-of-famer Tony Parker going 28th.)

Send me an e-mail.

The meaning of Lou, first draft — RIP, Lou Reed

“There’s a bit of magic in everything
And some loss to even things out.”
— Magic & Loss
All our heroes eventually die.
I’ve always known this. Hearing of John Lennon’s death that late fall night when I was 18 only underscored this, followed by the deaths of others – Bob Marley, Tommie Agee, Dave DeBusschere, Howard Zinn. Jim Carroll. George Harrison. Hunter Thompson. Robert Creeley. Allen Ginsberg.
This is part of the natural order.
More than most of the others I mentioned, Lou Reed is deeply enmeshed in the way I view myself as an artist. Lou – and he is Lou to those of us who have listened to his music and been affected by his art – have little in common. He was far more adventurous than I ever could be, far more talented – a visionary, really. But that sense that there are no boundaries, that you lay everything on the line in your songs, that you engage with the artistic process so deeply that the art that comes out of you is both so beautiful that it hurts and so painful that it takes you to another plane – that is something to which the artist in me aspires.
I discovered Lou in college, at Penn State. I’d heard “Walk on the Wild Side” and “Rock and Roll” and “Sweet Jane,” loved the songs, but never fully grasped them. I was working at the radio station in my dorm complex at the time – WEHR – and came across a strange and wonderful and often unlistenable album called Take No Prisoners. It was pissed-off Lou, part bad comedy album, part live presentation of Lou’s music at that moment. It should have sent me running, but his aggressive attempts to chase away his audience actually attracted me. As did the record sleeve, which called him “The Godfather of Punk.”
Shortly after, I bought a two-record compilation, The Diary of Lou Reed, which summed his work up from his time with The Velvet Underground – the single most important American band in rock history – through the late 1970s. I bought Street Hassle – an amazing, if now dated, record with Velvet echoes. And I traded Diary for a copy of Loaded, bought the full run of Velvet albums and so on. That happened within months.
What made Lou so important was the sense of excess crossed with his sense of desperation. There was a searching quality in everything he did. Lou was not about easy pop songs, but not because he disliked pop music. There is ample evidence to the contrary, even in the material he recorded with the Velvets.
It was because nothing was easy with Lou Reed. There were the personal demons – the drug and alcohol abuse, the violent relationships – and the public bouts with uncertainty. Much of the 1970s were lost to both, though individual performances during this time period are worth listening to. Transformer is uncertain, but beautiful. Berlin is a masterful, painful record. Street Hassle, as I said, is powerful and dated. The Bells is transfixing. And the rest from that time period – well, some were flawed or cynical or toss-offs, but all contained a song or songs that make them still worth turning to, even today.
Then came 1982. Lou Reed released The Blue Mask. All bets were off. The Blue Mask was something whole and harsh and painful and fresh and visionary. Lou put it all on that piece of vinyl – love and hate for his wife, for himself, for the poet Delmore Schwartz. It was tender and violent. It had Robert Quine thrashing with his ax and Lou once again playing the guitar, the two making a brutal, cathartic noise. Fernando Saunders was there, with his dive-bombing, poetic bass, and the unheralded Doane Perry on drums.
The two albums that followed – Legendary Hearts and New Sensations – were nearly as good and completed a triptyche of transformation. Lou would be good again – New York, Songs for Drella, Ecstasy – but never quite so good.
But this is not really getting at the issue. Lou, for me and I suspect for many others who write or paint or sing, is more than the sum of his many many albums. Lou gave us permission to experiment and explore, with sounds, with substances, with words and images and personas. Every time I put pen to paper, Lou is there, reminding me not to hold back. Too often, I fail to live up to his prodding. Too often, I fall far short of the artist I should be.
What Lou Reed brought to the table was art. No. It was Art, capitalized. He wanted to do more than just make a rock album or a pop album, and if that led him astray sometimes — The Raven, the operas and theater productions, that awful record with Metallica — that is fine. Great art requires the artist to take a chance and not just fail, but to fail spectacularly, because when you take that kind of chance you also have that chance to create the truly memorable, the truly important. To make great Art. Like the four Velvet Underground albums. Like Berlin. Like The Blue Mask.
And you inspire those who follow. That is Lou’s legacy — it is a grand, public one and one I take very personally. To say that a little part of me died today may not be fair to Lou Reed, to his family or his fans, but that is how it feels. Lou will always be a part of my artistic consciousness, prodding me along.
And for that, I am eternally grateful. Rest in Peace, Lou,

Send me an e-mail.