David Ricci's Politics Without Stories was released in the midst of an election campaign which upended many assumptions about U.S. politics. But it nonetheless offers a plausible explanation for much of the U.S.' political environment as it's continued to evolve - while leaving open what strike me as interesting questions as to whether what he observes is merely a U.S. phenomenon, or whether it applies more broadly.
As his basis for comparison, Ricci notes that U.S. conservatives have generally united around a few "alpha stories" of traditional values, free enterprise and small government. He then takes the position that there's no comparable set of dominant liberal narratives to provide a durable reference point for voters, asserts that this represents an important electoral handicap for U.S. Democrats compared to Republicans, and sets out to explain the discrepancy.
In the process, Ricci first questions whether leading liberal writers and politicians have made a meaningful effort to tie their subject-specific stories into themes, and points out the "list syndrome" as the frequent basis of policy development.
More importantly, Ricci questions whether even an ideal "alpha story" would actually appeal to a liberal audience. He theorizes that a left-wing audience is likely to be less receptive to overarching narratives than one on the right - for reasons including "pragmatic" disenchantment, as well as a focus on smaller outrages and incremental policy proposals over broader themes.
In particular, Ricci identifies each of Naomi Klein's main works as offering useful alpha stories - yet notes that they have failed to become as dominant as the right's primary messages due to the failure of liberals to adopt and repeat them.
On some points, Ricci's assertion of meaningful differences between left and right seems to be somewhat forced. It's not as if conservatism lacks its own single-issue thinkers or laundry-list policy prescriptions: most campaigns of any partisan stripe include a combination of historical themes which at least somewhat fit the "alpha story" model, and proposals aimed toward immediate issues. And the implicit argument that Democratic voices are more fixated on small outrages than their Republican counterparts is thoroughly implausible (see: "but her e-mails!"). (Though to be fair, one might see a parallel to the "alpha story" issue in the comparative willingness of Republican surrogates to repeat, and audiences to accept, small stories with their associated political messages.)
Meanwhile, to the extent there is an identifiable difference between both the politicians and the audiences in the U.S., it seems odd that Ricci spends little time engaging with George Lakoff's work - which offers both a parallel explanation as to the core differences between the liberal and conservative mindset at present, and a more promising set of alternatives than Ricci is willing to propose.
That said, the most interesting part of Ricci's argument from my standpoint is the postscript comparing Hillary Clinton's 2016 presidential campaign to Bernie Sanders' - particularly to the extent it's echoed in Canada's divide between the Liberals and the NDP.
Ricci views Sanders as having succeeded in offering a compelling story at least on a temporary basis - which he views as potentially being the best U.S. liberals can expect to achieve. In contrast, he views Clinton (and the party establishment which rallied behind her) as the epitome of the type of story-less politics which creates an inherent disadvantage for the Democratic Party. And the results of the 2016 presidential campaign don't suggest otherwise, particularly when compared to the electoral rise of Sanders' UK analogue in Jeremy Corbyn.
But Canada's experience shows that it is possible for a natural governing party to be built almost entirely on politics of convenience rather than consistent narratives - and indeed to force competitors on both sides to feel compelled to adopt a similar posture. And it's worth both considering and challenging Ricci's view of a political culture which inevitably spills across the border in working to develop and tell the stories which might best serve the goal of building progressive politics in Canada.
Showing posts with label book reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label book reviews. Show all posts
Saturday, September 02, 2017
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Book Review: The Blaikie Report
Among other highlights of the Saskatchewan NDP's leadership convention this month, I was able to meet and chat with longtime NDP MP (and later MLA) Bill Blaikie, who attended in large part to introduce party members to The Blaikie Report. And I appreciate the opportunity to review the book - particularly given that others have already had their say since its release.
Blaikie's book reads in part as autobiography, in part as polemic. And on both fronts, he nicely highlights how little Canadian politics have changed over the past several decades, with the appropriation of religious messaging by the far right serving as one of the few genuinely radical developments.
Blaikie starts by tracing his own social gospel views back to the CCF-NDP's early leaders and beyond, describing the social gospel as reflecting a religious critique of capitalism (which itself gets treated by far too many political actors as an infallible matter of faith).
Blaikie then applies the social gospel lens to his dizzying range of political experience - from culture wars to constitutional wrangling to the passage of the Canada Health Act. And whatever the source of one's concern about corporatist government, the themes found in Blaikie's book will be highly familiar to anybody involved in social democratic circles - from countering astroturfed "taxpayer" outrage by pointing out the preferential treatment granted to corporations, to the meaning and importance of sustainable development.
That said, a few chapters particularly stand out not merely as reflections on Blaikie's experience, but as arguments worth expanding on when it comes to issues which are still central to Canadian political debate. Chapter 8 makes a strong case as to the longstanding difference in political cultures between the NDP and the Libs - and how issue advocates can't expect to succeed in changing the terms of policy discussion without clearly articulating which party best reflects their underlying goals. And Chapters 15-16 offer both blistering criticism of the "chosen powerlessness" associated with free trade agreements, and a reminder that citizens' movements have been able to effectively counter the supposedly inexorable movement toward ever more corporate power.
But of course, any public movement depends on rallying together as many citizens as possible. And the NDP at all levels will do well to keep in mind Blaikie's core argument that a social democratic movement and party can only succeed by reaching out to voters and communities who share our values - whether or not those values are rooted in faith.
Blaikie's book reads in part as autobiography, in part as polemic. And on both fronts, he nicely highlights how little Canadian politics have changed over the past several decades, with the appropriation of religious messaging by the far right serving as one of the few genuinely radical developments.
Blaikie starts by tracing his own social gospel views back to the CCF-NDP's early leaders and beyond, describing the social gospel as reflecting a religious critique of capitalism (which itself gets treated by far too many political actors as an infallible matter of faith).
Blaikie then applies the social gospel lens to his dizzying range of political experience - from culture wars to constitutional wrangling to the passage of the Canada Health Act. And whatever the source of one's concern about corporatist government, the themes found in Blaikie's book will be highly familiar to anybody involved in social democratic circles - from countering astroturfed "taxpayer" outrage by pointing out the preferential treatment granted to corporations, to the meaning and importance of sustainable development.
That said, a few chapters particularly stand out not merely as reflections on Blaikie's experience, but as arguments worth expanding on when it comes to issues which are still central to Canadian political debate. Chapter 8 makes a strong case as to the longstanding difference in political cultures between the NDP and the Libs - and how issue advocates can't expect to succeed in changing the terms of policy discussion without clearly articulating which party best reflects their underlying goals. And Chapters 15-16 offer both blistering criticism of the "chosen powerlessness" associated with free trade agreements, and a reminder that citizens' movements have been able to effectively counter the supposedly inexorable movement toward ever more corporate power.
But of course, any public movement depends on rallying together as many citizens as possible. And the NDP at all levels will do well to keep in mind Blaikie's core argument that a social democratic movement and party can only succeed by reaching out to voters and communities who share our values - whether or not those values are rooted in faith.
Sunday, January 01, 2012
Book Review: Pulpit and Politics
Dennis Gruending is a former journalist and NDP MP who blogs about political and religious issues - which in theory should make for an ideal background for a book focusing on the interplay between religion and politics in Canada.
And Pulpit and Politics is indeed well worth a read. But it does fall somewhat short of its potential in one key area.
By way of example, the subject of the influence of religion in Canadian politics - particularly on the right side of the spectrum - is one that's already been explored in plenty of detail by Marci McDonald. And part of what I'd hoped for out of Gruending's book was a deeper and better-connected discussion of some of the issues already made prominent in The Armageddon Factor.
But instead, Gruending's take on the religious right is limited in large part to relatively brief overviews of the same stories and personalities already covered so thoroughly by McDonald. Which means that while it's difficult to disagree with Gruending's take on her work (to the effect that people should be reporting more on the influence of the religious right in Canada), it's disappointing that Gruending's book on substantially the same subject doesn't advance the cause more than it does.
And that limited development of the theme of the religious right serves as the most stark example of the broader issue with Gruending's writing style. In effect, much of Pulpit and Politics reads as a collection of loosely-connected blog posts - detailing events and encounters from Gruending's own life, commenting on headlines, public debates and polls, and developing little by way of themes or theses from one chapter to the next - rather than the cohesive narrative that would have been ideal for a book format.
To his credit, Gruending is highly readable in that medium. In particular, his detailed discussion of polling data from the 2011 federal election and his extended review of the fate of KAIROS under the Harper Cons serve as important reminders of both what influence religious affiliation has in Canadian politics, and how the Cons are looking to change the current balance.
And the juxtaposition of political and religious institutions assembling by Gruending offers some noteworthy connections which aren't pointed to explicitly. For example, Gruending's rightful frustration as to how the Catholic Church dealt with its child sexual abuse scandal - by denying what it knew to be true, then minimizing and spinning the subject to avoid any consequences for abuses within its ranks - would ring equally true as a chronicle and criticism of how far too many political parties (particularly on the right) handle any news that doesn't suit their purposes.
But there does look to be plenty of room to expand on much of the content of Pulpit and Politics - both in doing deeper research into the areas dealt with as one-off vignettes by Gruending, and in analyzing the connections between them. And while I'll certainly recommend Pulpit and Politics as an important contribution to the discussion of the relationship between religion and politics in Canada, I'll hope to see Gruending and others engaged in moving the subject forward further in the years to come.
And Pulpit and Politics is indeed well worth a read. But it does fall somewhat short of its potential in one key area.
By way of example, the subject of the influence of religion in Canadian politics - particularly on the right side of the spectrum - is one that's already been explored in plenty of detail by Marci McDonald. And part of what I'd hoped for out of Gruending's book was a deeper and better-connected discussion of some of the issues already made prominent in The Armageddon Factor.
But instead, Gruending's take on the religious right is limited in large part to relatively brief overviews of the same stories and personalities already covered so thoroughly by McDonald. Which means that while it's difficult to disagree with Gruending's take on her work (to the effect that people should be reporting more on the influence of the religious right in Canada), it's disappointing that Gruending's book on substantially the same subject doesn't advance the cause more than it does.
And that limited development of the theme of the religious right serves as the most stark example of the broader issue with Gruending's writing style. In effect, much of Pulpit and Politics reads as a collection of loosely-connected blog posts - detailing events and encounters from Gruending's own life, commenting on headlines, public debates and polls, and developing little by way of themes or theses from one chapter to the next - rather than the cohesive narrative that would have been ideal for a book format.
To his credit, Gruending is highly readable in that medium. In particular, his detailed discussion of polling data from the 2011 federal election and his extended review of the fate of KAIROS under the Harper Cons serve as important reminders of both what influence religious affiliation has in Canadian politics, and how the Cons are looking to change the current balance.
And the juxtaposition of political and religious institutions assembling by Gruending offers some noteworthy connections which aren't pointed to explicitly. For example, Gruending's rightful frustration as to how the Catholic Church dealt with its child sexual abuse scandal - by denying what it knew to be true, then minimizing and spinning the subject to avoid any consequences for abuses within its ranks - would ring equally true as a chronicle and criticism of how far too many political parties (particularly on the right) handle any news that doesn't suit their purposes.
But there does look to be plenty of room to expand on much of the content of Pulpit and Politics - both in doing deeper research into the areas dealt with as one-off vignettes by Gruending, and in analyzing the connections between them. And while I'll certainly recommend Pulpit and Politics as an important contribution to the discussion of the relationship between religion and politics in Canada, I'll hope to see Gruending and others engaged in moving the subject forward further in the years to come.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Book Review: Power Failure?
The story can be found in the headlines of virtually any province at any given time. Political parties eager to propose an economic panacea team up with energy developers who make sure to lock in their own profits before anything can go wrong to sell the public on natural resource development - which predictably produces results which favour the private-sector promoter without leading to much public good. And the opportunity for broader and more sustainable development is missed in the attempt to direct energy resources toward the most obvious immediate purchaser (who frequently has better options than the resource a province wants to promote).
But far too rarely does the previous pattern of empty promises get pointed out when the latest proposal is being pitched. And Richard Starr's Power Failure? is a worthwhile read in highlighting just how predictable the pattern is - even if Starr's focus is solely on the energy industry of a single Canadian province.
Naturally, the theme has gone few a through variations over the time period discussed by Starr. The resources in question are now oil, gas and electric power rather than coal. The government's place in the puzzle has ranged from granting monopoly charters to providing subsidies and bailouts, from operating industries itself to privatizing them at cut-rate prices. And the means of extracting money into private hands have evolved from "watered" stock, to corporate mergers and restructurings, and then to long-term contracts locking in profits at public expense.
Whatever the particulars of the moment, however, the overarching message looks to apply equally to most resources in most provinces as to the specific example of Nova Scotia. Resource industries are inevitably dependent on factors beyond the control of a single province. But they're also an appealing source of speculative hope for a province - and there's always somebody waiting to sell that dream at an inflated price.
And what's perhaps most remarkable in is the frequent lack of dissent on any particular resource development scheme. Starr rightly notes that a number of the most questionable moves in Nova Scotia's history of resource management passed with little or no opposition - hinting at the difficulty involved in making any case against development, no matter how flawed a scheme may appear in retrospect.
Of course, with rare exceptions the resource issues themselves form only a relatively small part of the political scene. But if the usual ebb and flow of resource politics has a greater impact in enriching the well-connected at the expense of the public than in substantively influencing public opinion, that only makes for all the more reason not to be drawn into the folly. And Starr's book offers plenty of evidence to support anybody arguing for a more principled stand than most politicians are willing to take.
But far too rarely does the previous pattern of empty promises get pointed out when the latest proposal is being pitched. And Richard Starr's Power Failure? is a worthwhile read in highlighting just how predictable the pattern is - even if Starr's focus is solely on the energy industry of a single Canadian province.
Naturally, the theme has gone few a through variations over the time period discussed by Starr. The resources in question are now oil, gas and electric power rather than coal. The government's place in the puzzle has ranged from granting monopoly charters to providing subsidies and bailouts, from operating industries itself to privatizing them at cut-rate prices. And the means of extracting money into private hands have evolved from "watered" stock, to corporate mergers and restructurings, and then to long-term contracts locking in profits at public expense.
Whatever the particulars of the moment, however, the overarching message looks to apply equally to most resources in most provinces as to the specific example of Nova Scotia. Resource industries are inevitably dependent on factors beyond the control of a single province. But they're also an appealing source of speculative hope for a province - and there's always somebody waiting to sell that dream at an inflated price.
And what's perhaps most remarkable in is the frequent lack of dissent on any particular resource development scheme. Starr rightly notes that a number of the most questionable moves in Nova Scotia's history of resource management passed with little or no opposition - hinting at the difficulty involved in making any case against development, no matter how flawed a scheme may appear in retrospect.
Of course, with rare exceptions the resource issues themselves form only a relatively small part of the political scene. But if the usual ebb and flow of resource politics has a greater impact in enriching the well-connected at the expense of the public than in substantively influencing public opinion, that only makes for all the more reason not to be drawn into the folly. And Starr's book offers plenty of evidence to support anybody arguing for a more principled stand than most politicians are willing to take.
Friday, April 02, 2010
Book Review: How We Almost Gave the Tories the Boot by Brian Topp
I've posted a couple of times already about Brian Topp's book - once to note Topp's central role in documenting the events of the 2008 progressive coalition, and once to raise some questions about the tone taken by the book. But Lorimer Publishing was kind enough to pass along a copy for my review - and I'll take some time to offer up some comments for those who haven't yet had a chance to read it.
At the outset, I'll note that few of the events documented in Topp's book will come as too much surprise to those who have read his extensive blog posts on the coalition. If anything, the book adds more by way of prologue and explanation than it does to the events of the coalition itself, as Topp's discussion in the 1999 Saskatchewan coalition government and the NDP's strategic planning over a period of years from the time when Jack Layton took over as leader offers a useful context for how the coalition came to be and why the NDP was so well-prepared to move it forward (unfortunately in contrast to the Liberals).
Indeed, Topp makes clear that the NDP's work on the coalition was based on a far more thoughtful and positive intention than merely "giving the Tories the boot", while also having roots going far deeper than any aspect of the fiscal update that got the Libs interested in the possibility. And Topp's repeated observations on the importance of building friendly connections into all parties are reflected in the NDP's ability to develop and sell a workable coalition structure in a matter of days when the possibility arose, all while keeping some reasonably close tabs on even the party which the coalition was looking to remove from power.
If there's a point to be criticized in Topp's book, it's that his take winds up being somewhat more narrowly focused in terms of the time frame and perspectives considered than might have been ideal. And for a couple of reasons, I won't necessarily stick with the "working draft of history" line I'd previously suggested might apply to the book.
The first limitation on Topp's scope is a focus on top-level NDP/Lib negotiations with little discussion of the public movement which also coalesced around the coalition. That's understandable to a point given Topp's place in the negotiations, but results in his falling into the trap of talking about public opinion turning on the coalition without examining what the public was actually doing at the time.
The focus on top-level dealings also creates a rather glaring gap of a month in Topp's narrative between the point when Ignatieff broke off communications in December 2008, and a meeting between he and Layton in January 2009. Which seems to be a time period deserving of somewhat more exploration, as plenty of supporters (built on an NDP foundation) continued to work to promote the coalition in public based on the possibility that Ignatieff might come around once the budget was unveiled.
The second key limitation is that while Topp provides loads of detail about the events from his own perspective, the book sticks to chronicling Topp's own observations at the time rather than supplementing those with new detail from other parties' camps. And that leaves some obvious questions to be answered by others who seem to have been far more reluctant than Topp to provide an open account of the events.
In particular, Topp's narrative as to the Libs' actions in response to the coalition leaves room for at least a couple of books to be written on how the respective camps of Stephane Dion, Michael Ignatieff and Bob Rae dealt with each other and with the other opposition parties in response to the coalition. And some more answers as to the "why" in evaluating Ignatieff's skepticism about the coalition would seem to be rather crucial for the NDP in deciding how to handle future opportunities.
While Topp may not be able to offer a complete chronicle of the coalition showdown from all sides, though, he definitely provides a lively and engaging take on the events which any New Democrat will be glad to have included in the history books. So for those who haven't yet taken the time to take a look, I'll highly recommend giving Topp's book a read.
(Edit: fixed typo.)
At the outset, I'll note that few of the events documented in Topp's book will come as too much surprise to those who have read his extensive blog posts on the coalition. If anything, the book adds more by way of prologue and explanation than it does to the events of the coalition itself, as Topp's discussion in the 1999 Saskatchewan coalition government and the NDP's strategic planning over a period of years from the time when Jack Layton took over as leader offers a useful context for how the coalition came to be and why the NDP was so well-prepared to move it forward (unfortunately in contrast to the Liberals).
Indeed, Topp makes clear that the NDP's work on the coalition was based on a far more thoughtful and positive intention than merely "giving the Tories the boot", while also having roots going far deeper than any aspect of the fiscal update that got the Libs interested in the possibility. And Topp's repeated observations on the importance of building friendly connections into all parties are reflected in the NDP's ability to develop and sell a workable coalition structure in a matter of days when the possibility arose, all while keeping some reasonably close tabs on even the party which the coalition was looking to remove from power.
If there's a point to be criticized in Topp's book, it's that his take winds up being somewhat more narrowly focused in terms of the time frame and perspectives considered than might have been ideal. And for a couple of reasons, I won't necessarily stick with the "working draft of history" line I'd previously suggested might apply to the book.
The first limitation on Topp's scope is a focus on top-level NDP/Lib negotiations with little discussion of the public movement which also coalesced around the coalition. That's understandable to a point given Topp's place in the negotiations, but results in his falling into the trap of talking about public opinion turning on the coalition without examining what the public was actually doing at the time.
The focus on top-level dealings also creates a rather glaring gap of a month in Topp's narrative between the point when Ignatieff broke off communications in December 2008, and a meeting between he and Layton in January 2009. Which seems to be a time period deserving of somewhat more exploration, as plenty of supporters (built on an NDP foundation) continued to work to promote the coalition in public based on the possibility that Ignatieff might come around once the budget was unveiled.
The second key limitation is that while Topp provides loads of detail about the events from his own perspective, the book sticks to chronicling Topp's own observations at the time rather than supplementing those with new detail from other parties' camps. And that leaves some obvious questions to be answered by others who seem to have been far more reluctant than Topp to provide an open account of the events.
In particular, Topp's narrative as to the Libs' actions in response to the coalition leaves room for at least a couple of books to be written on how the respective camps of Stephane Dion, Michael Ignatieff and Bob Rae dealt with each other and with the other opposition parties in response to the coalition. And some more answers as to the "why" in evaluating Ignatieff's skepticism about the coalition would seem to be rather crucial for the NDP in deciding how to handle future opportunities.
While Topp may not be able to offer a complete chronicle of the coalition showdown from all sides, though, he definitely provides a lively and engaging take on the events which any New Democrat will be glad to have included in the history books. So for those who haven't yet taken the time to take a look, I'll highly recommend giving Topp's book a read.
(Edit: fixed typo.)
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