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Why It's So Significant That Virginia Looks Set to Abolish the Death Penalty |
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Written by <a href="index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userProfile&user=51918"><span class="small">Madeleine Carlisle, TIME</span></a>
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Sunday, 14 February 2021 09:18 |
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Carlisle writes: "Virginia's use of the death penalty dates back over 400 years - to 1608, when Jamestown settlers carried out the first recorded execution in the then-European colonies."
Virginia Gov. Ralph Northam (D) made marijuana decriminalization a top priority for 2020. (photo: Zach Gibson/Getty Images)

Why It's So Significant That Virginia Looks Set to Abolish the Death Penalty
By Madeleine Carlisle, TIME
14 February 21
irginia’s use of the death penalty dates back over 400 years—to 1608, when Jamestown settlers carried out the first recorded execution in the then-European colonies. In the centuries since, amid periods of slavery, Reconstruction and Jim Crow segregation, Virginia has executed hundreds of people; since 1976, Virginia has executed 113 people, a higher percentage of death row inmates than any other U.S. state, and the highest number of state executions second only to Texas.
But on Feb. 3 and 5 respectively, Virginia’s Democratic Senate and House of Delegates voted to abolish the state’s death penalty, and Democratic Gov. Ralph Northam has said he plans to sign the bill into law. This would make Virginia the first Southern state to abolish the death penalty.
At the state level, the apparent abolition of Virginia’s death penalty signifies the state’s shifting politics; at the national level, it illustrates how unpopular capital punishment is becoming with the American public—despite the Trump administration’s spree of executions last year. And advocates argue Virginia could be a bellwether of more changes to come.
Virginia’s 20 year shift
The abolition of the death penalty is the latest in a series of progressive actions recently undertaken by the state legislature. In 2019, Virginia’s midterm elections put Democratic lawmakers in the majority for the first time in over two decades, a flip driven in part by the state’s changing demographics and a rebuke of then-President Donald Trump. The death penalty issue split along party lines in the state Senate, although three Republicans voted in favor of the House’s abolition bill on Feb. 5, which passed 57-41.
Democratic Del. Michael Mullin, who sponsored the House bill, tells TIME that he does not think abolition would have been possible without the public support of Gov. Northam. For years opposition to the death penalty in the Virginia could hinder a politician’s standing; when Democrat Sen. Tim Kaine was Governor between 2006 and 2010, he presided over 11 executions, despite saying he personally opposed the practice. Northam, on the other hand, called for an end to capital punishment in his State of the Commonwealth address in January.
“There have been people who have put abolition forward for the better part of four decades,” Mullin says. “But we’ve never had a Governor who went out forcefully and with a full throated approach to abolish the death penalty.”
While 22 U.S. states have already banned the death penalty, they’re largely places “that never sentenced very many people to death to begin with,” says Brandon Garrett, a professor of law at Duke University School of Law and the author of End of its Rope: How Killing the Death Penalty Can Revive Criminal Justice.
Virginia, on the other hand, was a prolific executioner for decades. This was in part because it had some of the strictest procedural rules in the country, including a rule that a defendant’s legal claims could be denied judicial review if their lawyer missed a filing deadline. This meant that poorer defendants who couldn’t afford more experienced attorneys were more likely to be executed without “any meaningful review of their cases,” argues Robert Dunham, the executive director of the nonprofit Death Penalty Information Center. In other cases, judges also did not clarify that recipients of a life sentence could be deemed ineligible for parole, Dunham continues, arguing that some juries might have imposed death sentences “because they thought it would be too dangerous to let [the defendant] return to the streets.”
But in 1999 the Virginia Supreme Court ruled in Yarbrough v. Commonwealth that judges had to inform their juries that they could impose a sentence of life without parole. Around the same time, the state legislature began establishing regional capital defender offices, which provided defense specifically for people facing capital charges (and were well versed in the deadlines and requirements they had to meet). The impact was striking: “All of a sudden… the prosecution is losing about half the time when they seek the death penalty, and jurors aren’t imposing life sentences,” says Garrett.
Virginia now hasn’t imposed a death sentence since 2011 and hasn’t executed someone since 2017. There are just two men on Virginia’s death row; both of them are Black. A Feb. 2 poll by Christopher Newport University also found that 56% of Virginians now support repealing the death penalty.
Advocates point to several reasons for the state’s changed stance. Capital trials—and the numerous appeals that are usually filed afterwards—are costly, and a growing number of conservatives have come to oppose the practice on fiscal grounds. “We’ve done an awful lot of hard work over the [years] to build support among a very broad coalition,” says Michael Stone, executive director of advocacy group Virginians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty. “We have built support among libertarians, among Republicans, among prosecutors, within the faith community and with murder victims’ family members.”
Rev. LaKeisha Cook, a justice reform organizer at the Virginia Interfaith Center for Public Policy, says that 2020’s mass Black Lives Matter protests, as well as the federal government’s spree of 13 executions in the last seven month of President Trump’s term, proved “the perfect storm” for creating momentum to end capital punishment in Virginia. “I believe that racial justice issues and capital punishment was pushed to the forefront of people’s minds and conversations,” she explains.
“The Virginia legislature is finally catching up with public opinion here in the commonwealth,” Mullin adds. “I think that a large majority of Virginians believe that the death penalty is inherently racist, unfair and can’t be executed in a proper fashion.”
‘The slow death of the American death penalty’
Like in much of the rest of the U.S., Virginia’s death penalty has historically been used to enforce a system of white supremacy. There is a direct “connection between our current modern day capital punishment, and our nation’s history with lynching, slavery and Jim Crow,” says Cook.
Per the Death Penalty Information Center, between 1900 and 1977, Virginia executed 73 Black defendants for convictions of rape, attempted rape or armed robbery that did not result in death. No white Virginians were executed for those crimes.
In one infamous example, Virginia executed seven Black men in 1951 after they were convicted of raping a white woman by an all-white jury—the largest recorded mass execution in the state’s history. “At a time when African Americans were beginning to assert their civil rights vigorously, the executions provided a stark reminder of the harsh treatment reserved for Blacks who violated southern racial codes,” wrote historian Eric W. Rise in his 1992 article “Race, Rape, and Radicalism: The Case of the Martinsville Seven, 1949-1951,” in the Journal of Southern History.
Studies show race still plays a role in modern day capital cases. A 2015 University of North Carolina and Georgetown Law Center study of U.S. executions between 1976 and 2013 found that the race of a crime’s victim is the “single most reliable predictor of whether a defendant in the USA will be executed.” Defendants were rarely executed if their victim was a Black, the study found, while several other studies found that defendants who killed white Americans were more likely to receive a death sentence.
The growing awareness of the role race plays in the criminal justice system has helped decrease support for capital punishment in the American public, argues Henderson Hill, a senior staff attorney at the American Civil Liberties Union’s (ACLU) Capital Punishment Project. In the mid-1990s, Gallup found that 80% of Americans were in favor of the death penalty for a person convicted of murder. In Gallup’s 2020 poll of the same question, 55% of Americans supported it.
“If you go back to the late 1980s or early 1990s, the conversation about capital punishment was driven by a kind of tough on crime rhetoric, combined with a kind of high moralism,” says Austin Sarat, a professor of law at Amherst College. But over the decades that rhetoric shifted. People are also now more aware of the at least 174 death row exonerations that have occurred since the 1970s, including the exoneration of Virginian Earl Washington, who was released in 2000 after spending 17 years in prison.
The public perception of capital punishment used to be as a consequence for “crime waves in cities,” says Sarat. Today, he argues that people are more likely to think of “someone being released from death who was falsely convicted.”
And if abolition can gain steam in a Southern state like Virginia, advocates argue it can gain traction elsewhere. Coalitions in other Southern states like North Carolina have been organizing around the issue for years and feel buoyed by Virginia’s momentum. As Garrett puts it: “for a heartland death penalty state to end up in [this] place…… I think that really in a nutshell encapsulates the slow death of the of the American death penalty.”

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Ikea's Ambitious Plan to Make Its Cheap Furniture Last Forever |
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Written by <a href="index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userProfile&user=58354"><span class="small">Alexandra Kirkman, Grist</span></a>
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Sunday, 14 February 2021 09:16 |
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Kirkman writes: "Ikea's overarching goal is to become 'climate positive' by 2030 - reducing more greenhouse gas emissions, or GHGs, than its entire value chain emits."
An Ikea store. (photo: Francis Dean/Corbis/Getty Images)

Ikea's Ambitious Plan to Make Its Cheap Furniture Last Forever
By Alexandra Kirkman, Grist
14 February 21
he Ikea store in Queens, New York, which opened on January 14, marked a decided departure for the iconic home furnishings brand. Located in the Rego Park Shopping Center, the 11,500-square-foot open layout — a new, smaller format for Ikea — is divided into core areas of the home, offering small-space solutions tailored to city living. Rooms are thoughtfully merchandised with easily portable accessories like lamps and throw pillows that customers can take with them on the bus or subway, both of which are a block away — a key factor in choosing the store’s location, given that more than half of city residents use public transportation.
Digital stations allow shoppers to self-pay and arrange furniture delivery for bigger pieces for a flat fee of $49. The company is working to make all last-mile deliveries in New York City by electric vehicle, according to Jennifer Keesson, country sustainability manager for Ikea U.S. — a test run on the way to making the last mile of its more than 2 million annual home deliveries nationwide zero emissions by 2025.
The Swedish powerhouse set out 80 years ago “to create a better everyday life for the many people” — as its motto goes — by putting sleek, stylish home furnishings within the budgets of the masses, and became a $35.4 billion (2020 revenues) market force in the process. And just as the brand is widely credited with democratizing design, it’s now moving to make sustainable living the norm rather than the exception, with a sprawling strategy that’s wildly ambitious in scope.
Ikea’s overarching goal is to become “climate positive” by 2030 — reducing more greenhouse gas emissions, or GHGs, than its entire value chain emits. It plans to do this while still growing its business by designing new products, moving into new markets, and building dozens, perhaps hundreds, of new stores in that time. The company is charging ahead with plans to open 50 more stores (of various sizes and formats) in 2021 alone.
Expanding its retail footprint on a warming planet may seem to fly directly in the face of Ikea’s plan to reduce its colossal climate footprint. In the last year, moves to decrease energy use across the business, from manufacturing to what it serves in its restaurants, have reduced its climate footprint per product sold by 7 percent, the company estimates. Meeting its 2030 target while selling ever more will mean cutting the average climate footprint per product by 70 percent.
Given that Ikea emitted the equivalent of 24.9 million tons of carbon dioxide in 2019 — accounting for 0.1 percent of the world’s GHG emissions that year — it’s a Herculean undertaking that encompasses virtually every element of its business, from the materials it sources through product manufacturing and transport. Emissions reductions will also come from efforts to pull carbon out of the atmosphere (without the use of carbon offsets) and influence supplier and customer behavior.
Making products last longer, and giving old products second lives, is a central pillar of its climate ambitions: Ikea aims to become a “100 percent circular business” by 2030. That means creating home goods that not only meet Ikea’s definition of “democratic design” — affordable, high-quality, sustainable, stylish, and functional — but also can be reused, refurbished, recycled, or remanufactured into new items.
Materials contribute the most to Ikea’s overall climate footprint, followed by the use of products in customer homes. Squeezing carbon savings out of those budgets poses the greatest hurdles toward meeting its ambitious targets, which were set to align with the Paris climate accord goal of keeping global warming below 1.5 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels.
“An increasing number of companies have said they’ll be climate positive by 2040 or 2050, but relatively few have said 2030,” said Andrew Winston, a corporate sustainability strategist and author of “The Big Pivot.” “Ikea’s challenge is also much more complicated because they manufacture tons of different products — unlike a company like Google, which has also set incredibly aggressive goals.”
The sprawling infrastructure and commercial leverage that enables the company to manufacture and sell millions of products is exactly what Ikea is banking on to realize its climate goals.
“Obviously the consumption model of the 1900s that we were part of will not work in the future, because we’re consuming more than the planet can provide,” said Ingka Group CEO Jesper Brodin on a Harvard Business Review podcast last December. Ingka Group is the largest of 12 strategic partners in Ikea’s franchise system, operating 380 Ikea stores around the world.
“I love mass production,” said Brodin, “because if you put it in the right aspect, you can scale up change so much better and faster. If you can scale something that’s climate-positive, that’s probably the best and fastest way of doing it — and bring the cost down so sustainability doesn’t become something that’s only for those who can afford it.”
Seeing the forest for the trees
Arguably few companies, particularly in the retail industry, have Ikea’s vision and knack for innovation. Founded in 1943 by the late Ingvar Kamprad — the name is an acronym of his initials, his family farm (Elmtaryd), and his birthplace (Agunnaryd) — it quickly became known for low prices. Chagrined competitors tried to pressure suppliers to boycott the brand, driving Kamprad to start designing products in-house and thinking early about moving beyond his home market.
Ikea shifted to flat-pack, self-assembly products in 1953 to minimize shipping costs and damage to mail-order deliveries. In 1970, the first self-service area was opened at Ikea’s flagship store near Stockholm, which allowed customers to walk out with flat-pack furniture in hand to assemble at home. The debut of Ikea’s first store outside of Scandinavia, in Switzerland, in 1973 set the stage for international expansion: Ikea is now the world’s largest home furnishings business, with nearly 530 stores (including test formats and planning studios) in more than 50 countries.
The seeds of Ikea’s shift to sustainability were planted (literally) in 1998, with the launch of the “Sow a Seed” Foundation, which sought to rehabilitate large swaths of rainforest lost to logging and forest fires in Malaysian Borneo. Over the next two decades, Ikea funded the replanting of 3 million trees across 31,000 now-protected acres of rainforest.
Sustainable forestry has long been a key focus of the brand, for good reason. Ikea uses wood in 60 percent of its products. Last year, it used just under 671 million cubic feet of wood (enough to fill 18 Empire State Buildings) in home furnishings and packaging, most of it from Poland, Russia, Belarus, Sweden, and Germany. About 12 percent of it was recycled and nearly all the rest was certified by the Forest Stewardship Council, a nonprofit group that promotes responsible forestry (Ikea is a founding member), meaning its harvesting did not contribute to deforestation.
Ikea still runs into criticism from time to time. Last year, the company was accused of illegally sourcing wood from Ukraine; a third-party independent investigation found no evidence of such timber in its supply chain, attributing the allegations to ambiguity surrounding the law concerning certain forest management practices. FSC is now working to resolve the issue.
Wood as a resource is under threat from deforestation, wildfires, pests, and other climate change impacts. The brand’s commitment to sustainable forest management is intended to ensure that its most critical raw material remains in sufficient supply. It also aims to enhance biodiversity, support those whose livelihoods are forest-dependent and protect vital carbon-sequestering trees. A big chunk of the company’s emissions reductions rely on keeping carbon locked up in the plants and soils of healthy forests.
To that end, Ikea invests heavily in forestland, where the company can reap carefully managed timber. Earlier this month, Ingka Group announced its acquisition of nearly 11,000 forested acres in southeast Georgia from The Conservation Fund, assuming its legally binding obligations to protect the land from fragmentation, restore trees, and protect wildlife. The company now owns 136,000 acres of forest across five states, and some 613,000 acres combined in the U.S. and Europe.
Material change
“Seventy percent of our footprint comes from materials,” said Pia Heidenmark Cook, Ingka Group’s chief sustainability officer. “So the products we put on the market, the materials we choose and where we source them from are critical.”
Ikea is taking a close look at its entire supply chain, said Cook, with the goal of using only recycled or renewable materials (like sustainably sourced wood and cotton) in its over 9,500 products by 2030. Today 10 percent of products contain recycled material, such as plastic and polyester, and 60 percent contain renewable materials.
The company has so far mapped out how to achieve half its materials footprint reduction goals for 2030 and has to figure out how to get the rest of the way there.
In the December podcast, Brodin called raw materials the most challenging part of the sustainability equation, noting that materials R&D has been one of the brand’s top investment priorities for nearly a decade.
“In terms of material innovation, the majority of investment is connected to our sustainability agenda — to find new materials that have a smaller climate or water footprint than what we use today,” said Cook.
Laminated veneer lumber, or LVL, is one material showing promise. A relatively new engineered product, it comprises multiple thin layers of wood glued together and cuts down on wood consumption by up to 40 percent. Its strength is comparable to metal in some applications, making it a potentially viable substitute for steel and aluminum, which have a high climate footprint due to their energy-intensive production process.
Another project explores using rice straw — a harvesting residue that’s typically burned and contributes to air pollution in places like northern India — as a new renewable material source.
Ikea has also partnered with clothing retailer H&M and forest products manufacturer Stora Enso to invest in Tree To Textile, a company that transforms wood cellulose into a sustainable textile fiber that could potentially serve as an alternative to cotton, Ikea’s second-most-used raw material behind wood. Last year, the brand used nearly 142,000 tons of the water-intensive crop — 0.5 percent of cotton production worldwide.
So far, alternative materials are still in testing phases or limited use. Ikea’s rice-straw product prototypes debuted as the FÖRÄNDRING (“change” in Swedish) collection of rugs, bowls, and baskets at stores in India last year, with limited volumes in a few European markets.
Should the company determine these new materials are viable, it will take years to update designs, adapt supply chains, and bring production to scale. But the advantage of Ikea’s size and clout means that if the company does identify any breakthrough renewable materials, it could push suppliers to get on board.
“Ikea is fairly unique in its ability to tell a potential supplier, ‘If you can’t meet our terms, we’ll find someone else who will,’” said Tom Eggert, a senior lecturer on business sustainability at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. “Whether it’s a wood alternative or plant-based plastics or something else entirely, they have the buying power to create a market where one may not yet exist.”
While cheap sofas and tables are the company’s bread and butter, the brand is one of the world’s largest food sellers: 680 million customers visited its food outlets in 2019. It sells a billion of its signature Swedish meatballs a year.
But meat is an ecological nightmare — livestock production accounts for more than 14 percent of total global greenhouse emissions and is a leading cause of deforestation. So Ikea is retooling its menu. The company has sold over 5 million veggie hot dogs since unveiling them in 2018. Last August, it introduced the HUVUDROLL plant ball, an alternative to its iconic meatball. With ingredients like pea protein and potatoes, it mimics meat’s taste and texture (unlike the brand’s veggie balls, which debuted in 2015), with a climate footprint that’s only 4 percent of the beef-and-pork original.
The company aims to make 50 percent of its restaurant entrees plant-based by 2025, and 80 percent of them non-red meat (of animals raised for food, cows and pigs are the biggest GHG contributors). The brand’s packaged food will also be 80 percent plant-based within five years.
Ikea’s other not-so-small side hustle is helping eliminate fossil fuels from its retail operations and production: The company is striving for 100 percent renewable energy across its entire value chain by 2030 — including helping secure 100 percent renewable electricity for its nearly 1,600 suppliers. Ikea has been investing in solutions like solar and wind farms around the world since 2009. Its clean energy portfolio now includes 547 wind turbines and two solar farms in 14 countries, and more than 920,000 solar panels on the roofs of Ikea stores and warehouses.
Last year, for the first time, Ingka Group generated more renewable energy — by a third — than it consumed globally in retail and distribution operations.
“Ikea is very much ahead of the curve in retail,” said Winston. “They were one of the biggest renewable energy purchasers before the big tech companies started their buying sprees.”
Widening the circle
In order to realize its vision of becoming 100 percent circular by 2030 — eliminating waste by keeping materials and finished products in use — Ikea must not only make products out of recycled and recyclable materials, but also convince its hundreds of millions of customers to recycle or reuse them.
“A truly circular economy approach is going to have to deal with end of life of products in a totally revolutionary way compared with their current business model,” said ecological economist Tim Jackson, author of the upcoming book “Post Growth: Life After Capitalism.”
The company is exploring how to entice customers to do their part.
During its #BuyBackFriday campaign late last year — conceived as an alternative to traditional Black Friday marketing blitzes — Ikea stores in 27 countries offered to buy back and resell thousands of used home furnishings. Customers received vouchers worth between 30 percent and 50 percent of their item’s original price, depending on its condition. (Anything that couldn’t be resold was recycled or donated to COVID-19 community outreach projects.) Down the road, as the company develops its methods, a bought-back chair could be stripped to its frame, polished, painted, and reshaped into a new chair.
Ikea is turning their “as-is” sections — where last year, 30.5 million discontinued and seasonal items, floor samples and customer returns were sold at discounted prices — into “circular hubs.” Customers can bargain hunt for second hand furnishings while picking up tips on fixing, cleaning or hacking their Ikea products. There are plans to launch hubs in half of Ikea’s stores by the end of the year.
Ikea’s first entirely secondhand store, a six-month test project, debuted in Eskilstuna, Sweden, last November.
“The perception of Ikea as a mass producer of stuff that doesn’t last very long has probably been its biggest Achilles’ heel,” Winston said. “This relatively new effort to change the lifecycle of their products by refurbishing, reselling, or entirely recycling them is probably one of the most important things that they’re doing.”
Jackson put a fine point on it: “#BuyBackFriday was a symbolic gesture. It needs to be an everyday reality.”
Cook says Ikea’s challenge “is to make sustainable living mainstream.” The company has had some past success. Back in 2015, when the most popular alternatives to inefficient incandescent light bulbs were halogens and compact fluorescent lamps, Ikea switched all its lighting products to light-emitting diodes (LEDs), believing that it could build an economy of scale and make LEDs a commercial success. The bulbs sold for about $7 at the time; they now cost less than $1 each and Ikea sold 56 million of them in 2019.
“In general, we are always trying to support the education of our customers [on] how to live a more sustainable and a healthier life at home,” Keesson said.
It’s reasonable to question how any company with a business model based on selling more and more stuff can expand in a truly sustainable way. Some argue that with a burgeoning global middle class on the rise and eager to spend their disposable income, we need companies that will make the effort to stay within the limits of what the planet can provide.

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The Fight for a $15 Minimum Wage Is a Fight for Racial Justice |
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Written by <a href="index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userProfile&user=58349"><span class="small">Rev. William Barber, In These Times</span></a>
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Saturday, 13 February 2021 13:19 |
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Barber writes: "Sixty-two million people in the United States make less than $15 an hour. And here's the truth: the fight to raise the minimum wage to a living wage of $15 is as important as the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965."
Rev. Dr. William J. Barber II. (photo: Eric Arnold)

The Fight for a $15 Minimum Wage Is a Fight for Racial Justice
By Rev. William Barber, In These Times
13 February 21
Democrats need to stop playing games and use their majorities to pass a $15 minimum wage right now—we can’t wait any longer.
ixty-two million people in the United States make less than $15 an hour. And here’s the truth: the fight to raise the minimum wage to a living wage of $15 is as important as the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965. For Black people, it’s taken us 400 years to get to $7.25 an hour. We can’t wait any longer. People in Appalachia can’t wait any longer. Poor white people, brown people, we cannot wait any longer. And we won’t be silent anymore.
The low-wage workers, tipped workers, people making less than $15 were already in a kind of depression before the Covid-19 pandemic hit. This is deadly. Hundreds of people are dying a day from poverty. Many of them are low-wage workers, tipped workers, people getting sick unnecessarily. Meanwhile, tens of millions of people still lack healthcare.
When it comes to the $15 minimum wage, some politicians say they’re worried about small businesses. But we have to ask them, have they voted for universal healthcare for everybody? Because if they were really worried about small businesses and their costs, they would pass universal healthcare so that small businesses didn’t have to pay that money to cover their workers. If they were really worried about these businesses, they would pay people a living wage. Because guess what? The people with living wages are going to spend that money, and guess where they’re going to spend it? Back in the businesses.
We cannot get this close and then fall back. We say to President Biden, to Democrats, to Republicans, to senators, to all of them: don’t turn your back on the $15 an hour minimum wage. Listen: 55% of poor, low-wealth people voted for this current ticket. That’s the mandate. The mandate is in the people who voted, not in the back slapping of senators and congresspeople. It’s the people who voted. And if we turn our backs now, it will hurt 62 million poor, low-wealth people who have literally kept this economy alive, who were the first to have to go to jobs, first to get infected, first to get sick, first to die. We cannot be the last to get relief and the last to get treated and paid properly. Protect us, respect us, and pay us.
The truth of the matter is, there can be no domestic tranquility without the establishment of justice. That’s not what Rev. William Barber says?—?it’s what the Constitution says. The establishment of justice precedes domestic tranquility. And you can only hold domestic tranquility when you promote the general welfare of all people.
Now, some argue that a $15 wage can’t pass through budget reconciliation. That’s nothing but an excuse. The fact of the matter is, when Republicans wanted to pass tax cuts and cut welfare, they used reconciliation. One time, when the parliamentarian gave them the wrong answer, they fired the parliamentarian, and got another parliamentarian to give them the right answer. So there’s one set of rules that apply for corporations, and there’s another set of rules when it comes to poor and low-wealth people. And that’s why we’re saying to Democrats: Don’t play the reconciliation game. It only takes a simple majority of 51 votes to overturn what the parliamentarian says. Let’s be real about this. People turned out to vote and it’s time for this to happen.
Back during the New Deal, people said to President Roosevelt that the minimum wage was going to break to the country. You know what Roosevelt said to them? He said any business that doesn’t want to pay people the minimum wage does not belong in America. He said you don’t have a right to exist in this country if you don’t want to pay people a basic minimum wage.
Fifty-seven years ago, Martin Luther King Jr. called for a $2 an hour minimum wage, which would be over $15 today. A few weeks ago, all the politicians were saying, let’s follow Dr. King. Let’s hear Dr. King’s message of love. Well you can’t hear the message of love without hearing the love and the justice connected together. To go backwards on this would be morally indefensible, constitutionally inconsistent and economically insane.
We cannot address racial equity if we do not address the minimum wage of $15. There’s no such thing as racial equity when you just address police reform and prisons but you don’t address the issue of economic justice. And if you address economic justice, guess what? It helps Black people, and white people, and brown people, and Latino people. It helps everybody. Everybody in, nobody out.
When people regardless of their race, their color, their creed, their sexuality, their disability, come together to fight to change the narrative, to demand, and to vote?—?this is the coalition that the aristocracy and the greedy always fear. My grandmama used to say, “Work while it is day, because the night comes.” She got that out of the Bible. And Isaiah 10 says, “Woe unto those who legislate evil and rob the poor of their rights, who make women and children their prey.”
We have to act like we have one shot on this. Tomorrow is not promised. It’s time to push, through every non-violent tool we have. We know that in every battle, if we fight, we win?—?and if we don’t fight, we can’t win.
Let’s go forward together, not one step back.

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The Real Reason Trump's Impeachment Defense Was So Bad |
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Written by <a href="index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userProfile&user=32251"><span class="small">Zack Beauchamp, Vox</span></a>
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Saturday, 13 February 2021 13:18 |
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Beauchamp writes: "During their Friday afternoon impeachment arguments, former President Donald Trump's attorneys accused Democrats of doing 'constitutional cancel culture.' They suggested that antifa was partly responsible for the January 6 attack on the Capitol."
Proud Boys and other protesters in Washington, D.C. (photo: Getty Images)

The Real Reason Trump's Impeachment Defense Was So Bad
By Zack Beauchamp, Vox
13 February 21
Trump’s impeachment defense failed because what Trump did was indefensible.
uring their Friday afternoon impeachment arguments, former President Donald Trump’s attorneys accused Democrats of doing “constitutional cancel culture.” They suggested that antifa was partly responsible for the January 6 attack on the Capitol. They quibbled about a photograph in the New York Times and the meaning of a tweet using the word “calvary.” They made a risible argument that Trump’s impeachment somehow violated the First Amendment.
To combat the House impeachment managers’ striking use of footage from the day of the attack, Trump’s lawyers put together their own short films. One consisted in large part of Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-MA) saying the word “fight.” Another featured an extended (and ostensibly less damning) cut of Trump’s infamous “very fine people” comment about the 2017 Charlottesville, Virginia, rally of white supremacists. Yet another featured Democrats and celebrities, including Madonna and Johnny Depp, saying nasty and violent-sounding things about Trump. They played that one three separate times.
This sort of nonsense took up most of the team’s short three-hour presentation defending their client against the charge of incitement of an insurrection. Only in the last 40 minutes — the section argued by lead defense attorney Bruce Castor — did Trump’s team make a serious and sustained attempt to rebut the core of the House’s case: that Trump is directly responsible for the violence that took place on January 6.
The attempt didn’t go very well.
Castor ignored key facts, like Trump’s hours-long delay calling in the National Guard during the attack. His logic was at times incoherent, arguing (for example) that Trump’s disdain for Black Lives Matter protesters meant that he disapproved of violence committed by his own supporters as well. And he seemed to completely misunderstand key parts of the House’s case, like the role of Trump’s behavior in the months prior to the January 6 rally.
There really is only one reasonable conclusion to draw after watching the defense’s weak presentation: If this is the best his attorneys can do, Trump’s conduct truly is indefensible.
The many ways Trump’s defense failed
Over the last two days, the House impeachment managers made a very straightforward case for impeaching Trump.
For months, the president spread false and dangerous beliefs suggesting the election was stolen, including specifically calling for his supporters to rally in his defense on January 6 (the day that Congress would certify the election results). Once those supporters arrived, he encouraged them to act on those beliefs during his rally speech — intending to cause violence or, at very least, acting with willful negligence.
And once the mob acted — breaking into the Capitol and threatening elected officials’ lives — for hours he did nothing to stop them, and seemed at times to even encourage the mob. This makes him morally responsible for the insurrection and thus someone who should be convicted and barred from holding public office ever again.
What’s striking about Castor’s arguments is that, for the most part, they didn’t really rebut the core of the House’s case. They either danced around it or outright misinterpreted some of the core issues.
For example, Castor argued that Trump couldn’t have intended for a mob to attack the Capitol because the president hates mobs.
“We know that the president would never have wanted such a riot to occur because his longstanding hatred for violent protesters and his love for law and order is on display, worn on his sleeve every single day that he served in the White House,” Castor said.
But, as House impeachment managers pointed out, Trump has a very long history of encouraging violence by his supporters. At a 2016 rally, for example, he encouraged his supporters to “knock the hell” out of counterprotesters who were throwing tomatoes, adding that “I will pay for the legal fees” if they do.
And when he condemns “violent protesters,” he’s almost always talking about his political enemies — most notably, Black Lives Matter activists and antifa. There is no evidence that Trump has a principled abhorrence of violence, and lots of evidence that he revels in it when committed by his allies against his enemies.
Similarly, Castor argued that because some of the January 6 attackers were prepared for violence beforehand, there’s no way the president’s speech — which encouraged them to march to the Capitol and “fight like hell” — could have caused the violence.
“This was a pre-planned assault, make no mistake,” Castor said. “The president did not cause the riots.”
Except the fact that some rallygoers were prepared for violence prior to the speech doesn’t mean that all of them were. Violent militia members from groups like the Proud Boys and the Oathkeepers only make up a fraction of the arrests from the insurrection. It’s possible that a hardcore minority were prepared to try to attack Congress, but a much larger percentage of the pro-Trump crowd decided to join them after the president’s heated rhetoric inspired them to.
But Castor’s argument also misses something more fundamental: that if Trump hadn’t been falsely calling the election “stolen” for months, and calling on his supporters to try and help him overturn it, there would have been no pre-planned violence in the first place. This entire series of events only became thinkable because Trump had engaged in a sustained and successful campaign to convince millions of Americans that there was a nefarious plot to destroy American democracy. They planned to do violence before the rally because they believed the lies Trump had been telling them; indeed, the House managers showed video in which people storming the Capitol say they were acting on Trump’s orders.
Castor made a similar error in his discussion of Trump’s infamous January 2 call to Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger. He argued that Trump did not attempt to incite insurrection during this private phone call — in which Trump asks Raffensperger to “find” enough votes to overturn Joe Biden’s Georgia victory — and therefore that it was irrelevant.
But this was not the purpose of the House manager’s discussion of that call.
Their point was that the call was an inappropriate and arguably unlawful effort to overturn the results of a legitimate election, proving that Trump had intent to subvert the electoral and legal system in order to get himself installed as president. This is clear enough if you read the article of impeachment, which describes the call as part of Trump’s “prior efforts to subvert and obstruct the certification of the results of the 2020 Presidential election” — not a direct effort to incite the attack on the Capitol itself.
Perhaps the strongest argument Castor made is that Trump’s January 6 rally speech, the one the House alleges helped incite the rally, specifically called on protesters to act in a peaceful manner.
“The president’s remarks explicitly encouraged those in attendance to exercise their rights peacefully and patriotically,” Castor said. “The entire premise of his remarks was that the democratic process would and should play out according to the letter of the law.”
It’s right to say that the text of Trump’s speech gives him some cover, and that he never outright tells his supporters “go do violence now.” It might even lead to his acquittal in an actual criminal trial, where the standard required for conviction is different and justifiably higher than in an impeachment trial that carries no jail time as punishment.
But the line Castor cited was just that — one line — in a speech full of inflammatory rhetoric, including a direct call to march on the Capitol and “fight like hell.” You don’t need to nakedly endorse violence to create a situation in which it’s foreseeable that it could occur.
This is also why Trump’s inaction in the face of the violence — which he was watching unfold live on TV — is crucial: His refusal to call in the National Guard says much more about what he wanted than a pro forma line about peaceful protest. You can’t set up a situation where violence is likely, allow that violence to unfold, and then get off the hook for what amounts to a fine print disclaimer in the speech.
What Trump’s lawyers didn’t say mattered as much as what they did
Trump’s response after the attack happened was not incidental to the House managers’ case. In fact, it was at the center of it.
In Rep. Jamie Raskin’s closing arguments, he posed four questions to Trump’s defense that he believed they would need to address if they were to “answer the overwhelming, detailed, specific, factual and documentary evidence we’ve introduced.” All of them centered on the president’s actions during the attack, which Raskin and the Democrats felt were damning proof of his intent to allow the violence to unfold:
One, why did President Trump not tell his supporters to stop the attack on the Capitol as soon as he learned of it?
Why did President Trump do nothing to stop the attack for at least two hours after the attack began?
As our constitutional commander-in-chief, why did he do nothing to send help to our overwhelmed and besieged law-enforcement officers for at least two hours on January 6 after the attack began?
On January 6, why did President Trump not, at any point that day, condemn the violent insurrection and insurrectionists?
At no point in Castor’s presentation did he even attempt to answer any of Raskin’s questions. During the subsequent Q&A, Sens. Lisa Murkowski (R-AK) and Susan Collins (R-ME) posed a version of these questions directly to Trump’s team. “Exactly when did President Trump learn of the breach of the Capitol, and what specific actions did he take to bring the rioting to an end and when did he take them?”
Here’s what the Trump team said in response:
There’s a lot of interaction between the authorities and getting folks to have security beforehand on the day; we have a tweet at 2:38 pm, it was certainly sometime before then. With the rush to bring this impeachment, there’s been no investigation into that and that is the problem with the entire proceeding. The House managers [did] zero investigation, and the American people deserve a lot better than coming in here with no evidence — hearsay on top of hearsay on top of reports that are of hearsay. Due process is required here, and that was denied.
This, of course, is not an answer — it is a dodge, much like all of Castor’s presentation beforehand. Trump’s team did not have good answers to Raskin’s questions because no such answers exist.
Trump’s conduct on January 6, and before it, really was indefensible. It was inevitable that the attempt to defend it would fail.

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