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De Blasio, Warren, and Obamacare: How Supportive Are We? |
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Written by <a href="index.php?option=com_comprofiler&task=userProfile&user=5494"><span class="small">Steve Weissman, Reader Supported News</span></a>
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Tuesday, 19 November 2013 15:10 |
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Weissman writes: "From the uncritical infatuation with Elizabeth Warren and Bill de Blasio to our desperate defense of Obamacare, the left needs to relearn the under-used art of critical support."
Then New York City mayoral hopeful Bill de Blasio being arrested protesting hospital cuts. (photo: Daily News)

De Blasio, Warren, and Obamacare: How Supportive Are We?
By Steve Weissman, Reader Supported News
19 November 13
rom the uncritical infatuation with Elizabeth Warren and Bill de Blasio to our desperate defense of Obamacare, the left needs to relearn the under-used art of critical support.
A few months back, this might have amounted to little more than philosophic thumb-sucking. But once we helped organize overwhelming opposition to Obama's plan for a not-so-limited military strike on Syria, forcing him to do a deal with the Russians, we showed that we could make things happen - or not happen. Our activism also encouraged negotiations with Iran, which were already underway. And now with Wikileaks' release of the Intellectual Property Rights Chapter of the secretly negotiated Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP), activists have a real chance to work with increasingly assertive members of Congress to block the treaty from ever passing Congress.
So, how do we put our limited, but growing power behind our own principles? If we don't, we will remain extras in somebody else's movie, the way so many progressives have been while Team Obama pursues its corporate and surveillance state agenda.
Like it or not, until we build the strength to offer voters a progressive presidential candidate who can win, most of us will find the appeal of third party politics unconvincing and hold our noses to vote for some effing corporate Democrat who seems - and probably is - a lesser evil than her even farther rightwing Republican opponent.
That's life. But we do not have to play stupid. More of us can loudly and clearly put forward our own progressive positions - say Medicare for All - rather than spending so much time trying to defend the cockamamie complexities of Obamacare with its gigantic government giveaways to insurance companies, health maintenance organizations, and Big Pharma. Let democrats like the Clintons and former Senate majority leader Tom Daschle, now a health care lobbyist, defend their corporate approach. We have a better, more straight-forward, and more cost-efficient alternative to promote, and if we do our work now, its day will come.
We should show the same independence with regard to the rise of the rise of left-leaning populist politicians. Most of us back Elizabeth Warren in her efforts to reign in Wall Street, and some see her prematurely as a potential presidential alternative to Hillary Clinton, who sides with Wall Street and the corporate tax cheats and remains far too much of an interventionist hawk on foreign policy.
Personally, I love Warren's response to the crackpot individualism of Mitt Romney, Ayn Rand, and Tea Party libertarians. "There is nobody in this country who got rich on his own," she declared. "Nobody…. You moved your goods to market on the roads the rest of us paid for; you hired workers the rest of us paid to educate; you were safe in your factory because of police forces and fire forces that the rest of us paid for. You didn't have to worry that marauding bands would come and seize everything at your factory, and hire someone to protect against this, because of the work the rest of us did. Now look, you built a factory and it turned into something terrific, or a great idea. Keep a big hunk of it. But part of the underlying social contract is, you take a hunk of that and pay forward for the next kid who comes along."
I'm also pleased that she spoke out against the secrecy of the Trans-Pacific Partnership negotiations and that she has co-sponsored the USA Freedom Act to outlaw the National Security Agency's bulk surveillance. But, though I like the way she supports strong regulation of the financial sector, I find her too ideologically wedded to the so-called "free market." And as a Jew with family in Israel, I worry about her overly enthusiastic support of Bibi Netanyahu's government and her willingness to buy all the unproved propaganda against Iran and its nuclear program. As I've argued for years, Israel poses far more of an existential threat to Iran than Iran does to Israel.
Bill de Blasio, the populist-sounding mayor-elect of New York, has also been hawkish on Iran, working closely with United Against Nuclear Iran, one of the leading groups now trying to block the Obama administration's negotiations with Tehran. With both Warren and de Blasio, we should remain critical while trying to convince them that they are just plain wrong, both on the facts and on the best path to peace.
Both Warren and de Blasio are decent people open to reason, and we should pursue every opportunity for dialogue without rancor. But if we want to be players in the political system and not just cheer from the sidelines, we will have far greater impact if we remain true to our principles and openly express our disagreements.
A veteran of the Berkeley Free Speech Movement and the New Left monthly Ramparts, Steve Weissman lived for many years in London, working as a magazine writer and television producer. He now lives and works in France, where he is researching a new book, "Big Money: How Global Banks, Corporations, and Speculators Rule and How To Break Their Hold."
Reader Supported News is the Publication of Origin for this work. Permission to republish is freely granted with credit and a link back to Reader Supported News.

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Ayn Rand's Vision of Idiocy: Understanding the Real Makers and Takers |
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Monday, 18 November 2013 15:07 |
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McElwee writes: "Because the wealthy are no longer willing to use their wealth for good, they have decided to glorify the wealth itself as good."
McElwee: 'Sorry, but making a profit off something that's useless to society is not morally superior to helping others.' (art: Benjamin Wheelock/Salon/AP/Phil Long)

Ayn Rand's Vision of Idiocy: Understanding the Real Makers and Takers
By Sean McElwee, Salon
18 November 13
Sorry, but making a profit off something that's useless to society is not morally superior to helping others.
or those who haven't had the great misfortune of reading "Atlas Shrugged," the book is premised on the idea that if the world's "creative leaders," businessmen, innovators, artists (i.e., the "makers") went on strike, our entire society would collapse. These strikers hide out in a utopian compound in the mountains of Colorado while the rest of us despondently wail and gnash our teeth and beg for them to once again bestow their creativity upon us.
The book mirrors in many ways the more lefty "Elysium," where to escape the environmental degradation they have wrought, the wealthiest go off to form their own society in the sky. The rest of the human population remains mired in slum-like conditions, because the only thing standing between humanity and savagery is Bill Gates. But have no fear! Rather than collectively solving our problems, humanity needs a salvific "Jesus" in the form of (who else?) Matt Damon to make us citizens of Elysium and thereby save humanity. These two, very disparate tales of woe both have common elements (what I will call the "Randian vision"): society relies on the wealthy; collective action through government is either meaningless or detrimental; and a few individuals ("great men") should be the center of social change and innovation. But all of these assumptions are false.
The appeal of the Randian vision to today's wealthy is obvious: it puts them back at the center of economic life. They long ago realized that rather than being the beneficent "makers" they had always imagined themselves to be, they were the parasitical "takers" they so despised. Their wealth, which was once a symbol that God praised their work, became an instrument for social change (Carnegie, Rockefeller) and eventually good in itself (Gates, Jobs). Social Darwinism, the idea that the economy is a "survival of the fittest" competition where the superior end up on top, exults the businessman as superior and deserving. But as Henry George noted of Herbert Spencer (the founder of Social Darwinism): "Mr. Spencer is like one who might insist that each should swim for himself in crossing a river, ignoring the fact that some had been artificially provided with corks and other artificially loaded with lead." F. Scott Fitzgerald and Thorstein Veblen ridiculed the idea that the wealthy were in any way superior. Social Darwinism has resurged in conservative thought, supplementing the Randian vision to fortify a social order in which a minuscule proportion of society reaps its rewards.
Because the wealthy are no longer willing to use their wealth for good, they have decided to glorify the wealth itself as good, thus, Harry Bingswanger writes in Forbes,
Imagine the effect on our culture, particularly on the young, if the kind of fame and adulation bathing Lady Gaga attached to the more notable achievements of say, Warren Buffett. Or if the moral praise showered on Mother Teresa went to someone like Lloyd Blankfein, who, in guiding Goldman Sachs toward billions in profits, has done infinitely more for mankind. (Since profit is the market value of the product minus the market value of factors used, profit represents the value created.)
Here we see the Randian vision in all its idiotic glory. If you could make a profit by pressing puppies into coffee, you deserve more moral praise than someone who dedicates their life to the poor. As E.F. Schumacher observed about capitalism, "Call a thing immoral or ugly, soul-destroying or a degradation to man, a peril to the peace of the world or to the well-being of future generations: as long as you have not shown it to be 'uneconomic' [unprofitable] you have not really questioned its right to exist, grow, and prosper." To justify their wealth, the titans of industry must make themselves the center of economic progress and society, but the dirty little secret is that they aren't; they're just along for the ride. As Richard Hofstadter observed about American capitalism, "Once great men created fortunes; today a great system creates fortunate men."
This observation fits with the facts: William Baumol found in the 1960s that 90 percent of the United States' GDP today is due to innovations since 1870. Nobel Prize winner Herbert Simon estimates that a flat tax of 90% of income is justifiable because "social capital" accounts for 90% of income in developed countries. The Human Genome Project cost the government $3.8 billion but generated $796 billion in economic gains. The project is expected to bring about returns of 140 to 1 to the public. Research by Kenneth Flam finds that, "eighteen of the twenty five most important breakthroughs in computer technology between 1950 and 1962 were funded by the government, and in many cases the first buyer of the technology was also the government." The Randian vision praises hedge fund managers, even though most hedge funds underperform the market. Social Darwinism praises the CEO even though the most highly-paid CEOs are often unsuccessful and many companies run fine without them. Society praises Zuckerberg, Brin and Dorsey, but it was DARPA that made their coding possible. Much of the research the government pursues isn't profitable enough to merit the attention of private companies, or is simply too risky. Private space flight is only imaginable because the government went there first.
It seems almost axiomatic that no good person has ever done something great merely for a profit. They seek something more important than material possession. So why should we fear if the wealthiest left us? I would fear for the world if the empathetic, the intelligent, the compassionate, the fearless and the creative left us. We don't celebrate these virtues unless they somehow lead to monetary gain, but often they don't. Norman Borlaug, father of the "Green Revolution"that by some estimates saved 1 billion people from starvation and who was hailed as "... a towering scientist whose work rivals that of the 20th century's other great scientific benefactors of humankind," didn't work for money; he worked to help people. A Dallas Observer story about him noted that he, "rarely indulged in the comforts of the industrialized West for any extended period of time. His choice has been to immerse himself in locales where people stare death in the face every day." When a reporter saw Mother Teresa helping a disfigured leper, he said to her, "I wouldn't do that for a million dollars." Mother Theresa said, "Neither would I."
The Walton family heirs, whose fortune relies entirely on predation - of labor, of the environment, of government, of small business - controls more wealth than the poorest 40 million Americans. Imagine what we could do with that fortune if they left. For all the credit Bill Gates gets, it may be worth wondering, as Peter Singer did, if he has given enough:
Gates may have given away nearly $30 billion, but that still leaves him sitting at the top of the Forbes list of the richest Americans, with $53 billion. His 66,000-square-foot high-tech lakeside estate near Seattle is reportedly worth more than $100 million. Property taxes are about $1 million. Among his possessions is the Leicester Codex, the only handwritten book by Leonardo da Vinci still in private hands, for which he paid $30.8 million in 1994. Has Bill Gates done enough? More pointedly, you might ask: if he really believes that all lives have equal value, what is he doing living in such an expensive house and owning a Leonardo Codex? Are there no more lives that could be saved by living more modestly and adding the money thus saved to the amount he has already given?
If Gates donated all $53 billion to foreign humanitarian aid, it would be double what the U.S. government gives yearly ($23 billion in 2013). Imagine the good we could do with the fortunes of the rich, who have only amassed the wealth because of the infrastructure developed by society. Innovators regularly rely on government and academic funding for projects that corporations don't think will be profitable (according to Singer, "less than 10 percent of the world's health research budget is spent on combating conditions that account for 90 percent of the global burden of disease"). The arts are largely supported by public funding, not private donations. And many businesses are less self-sufficient than they imagine, requiring bailouts and competition between states to support them. Many corporations, like Walmart, dump poor employees on to government largess rather than pay them enough to feed themselves. And who builds the roads and takes out the garbage?
Were the richest .01% to venture out and form their own society, the rest of us would not devolve into violent conflict; rather, without the expensive burden of the wealthy tapeworms siphoning our common wealth, we could begin to solve our problems. So to the rich who threaten to leave New York, I say, "go." If the rich somehow manage to form their own planet, we can start fixing the problems on ours. We are the makers, they are the takers.

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FOCUS | Feeding the Flame of Revolt |
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Monday, 18 November 2013 13:03 |
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Hedges writes: "The corporate state, rapidly losing credibility and legitimacy, is lashing out like a wounded animal. It is frightened. It feels the heat from a rising flame of revolt."
Jeremy Hammond. (photo: unknown)

Feeding the Flame of Revolt
By Chris Hedges, TruthDig
18 November 13
was in federal court here Friday for the sentencing of Jeremy Hammond to 10 years in prison for hacking into the computers of a private security firm that works on behalf of the government, including the Department of Homeland Security, and corporations such as Dow Chemical. In 2011 Hammond, now 28, released to the website WikiLeaks and Rolling Stone and other publications some 3 million emails from the Texas-based company Strategic Forecasting Inc., or Stratfor.
The sentence was one of the longest in U.S. history for hacking and the maximum the judge could impose under a plea agreement in the case. It was wildly disproportionate to the crime - an act of nonviolent civil disobedience that championed the public good by exposing abuses of power by the government and a security firm. But the excessive sentence was the point. The corporate state, rapidly losing credibility and legitimacy, is lashing out like a wounded animal. It is frightened. It feels the heat from a rising flame of revolt. It is especially afraid of those such as Hammond who have the technical skills to break down electronic walls and expose the corrupt workings of power.
"People have a right to know what governments and corporations are doing behind closed doors," Hammond told me when we met in the Metropolitan Correctional Center in Manhattan about a week and a half before his sentencing.
READ MORE: Feeding the Flame of Revolt

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FOCUS | Hollywood Helped Make the Tea Party |
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Sunday, 17 November 2013 12:14 |
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Gross writes: "Ronald Reagan, Barry Goldwater and the roots of modern conservatism were aided by an unlikely source -- Hollywood."
President Reagan at a rally for Texas Republican candidates in Irving, Texas, 10/11/82. (photo: Reagan Library)

Hollywood Helped Make the Tea Party
By Neil Gross, Salon
17 November 13
Ronald Reagan, Barry Goldwater and the roots of modern conservatism were aided by an unlikely source — Hollywood.
t a gala ceremony in Hollywood last month, the Environmental Media Association handed out awards to Matt Damon, Hayden Panetierre, and director Josh Fox, among others, in recognition of their environmental activism. Fox, who directed the anti-fracking film "Gasland," expressed the views of many in the audience when he noted in his acceptance speech: "We can have five more decades of fossil fuel expansion or move in the direction of renewable energy. The choice is clear." A few days later, Sean Penn made an appearance on "Piers Morgan Live" where he joked that members of the Tea Party caucus in Congress are mentally ill and should be institutionalized. Earlier in October, Jennifer Hudson, Olivia Wilde, Scarlett Johansson, Connie Britton and Mia Farrow took to social media and recorded messages encouraging people to sign up for coverage under the Affordable Care Act. In New York City, Cynthia Nixon, Susan Sarandon and Steve Buscemi were among those who campaigned for progressive Bill de Blasio in the contested Democratic primary. And a story in the Hollywood Reporter reveals that Jeffrey Katzenberg of DreamWorks, along with other Hollywood heavy hitters, is prepared to back Hillary Clinton in 2016.
That the entertainment industry leans Democratic and to the left is a well-known fact of American political life. In a new book, though, "When Hollywood Was Right," historian Donald Critchlow argues provocatively that this wasn't always true. In fact, he claims, some major GOP victories have Hollywood to thank.
Critchlow's story begins in the early 1930s. Film production in Hollywood had been going on for about 20 years at that point, starting with the shooting of D.W. Griffith's 1910 movie "In Old California," and the founding of Universal Studios in 1912. Prior to the stock market crash of 1929, Hollywood was not a particularly political place. Amid the prosperity of the 1920s, voters throughout California cast their ballots for Republican Party candidates in an almost routine fashion. This was no less true in Hollywood. Movie moguls like Louis B. Mayer of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer were active in their support of the GOP, given its pro-business stance, but most people in the industry displayed what Critchlow calls a "phlegmatic political attitude." They were interested in making movies and making money - not politics.
The Depression changed all that. Salaries for actors took a hit initially as ticket sales dropped. Jobs for writers and for those working on film crews became more scarce too, even though many Americans found ways to creatively budget so that they could keep going to the movies, where stars like Henry Fonda, William Powell, Carole Lombard and Shirley Temple helped them escape their problems, sometimes in films with Depression-era themes.
Tough economic times generally favor the left, and as Franklin Roosevelt and the New Deal gained support nationally, they did in Hollywood as well. James Cagney, John Garfield, Orson Welles, Bette Davis and Charlie Chaplin emerged as committed progressives. Within a few years, Works Progress Administration money was flowing into town, funding new artistic endeavors and landmarks like the Hollywood Station Post Office and buying goodwill for the Democrats.
Where liberalism advanced, radicalism gained ground alongside it. For example, the Communist Party was able to land a footing in the Screen Writers Guild. Writers like Dalton Trumbo - who worked on the Oscar-winning films "Roman Holiday" (1953) and "The Brave One" (1956) and was celebrated for his work on "Spartacus" (1960) - became party members.
Despite their differences, liberals and radicals in Hollywood were united in their antipathy toward the free market. Just as important in an industry that was already an ethnic niche for Jews, they also shared an intense opposition to European fascism (at least until 1939, when the Hitler-Stalin non-aggression pact was signed, and those who followed the Communist Party line were instructed to become isolationists). Actors on the right who gave any hint of sympathy for fascism, such as Gary Cooper, fell into disrepute.
The rise of a Hollywood Left in the 1930s provides the backdrop to the first tale of Republican success that Critchlow tells: the defeat of Upton Sinclair in the 1934 California gubernatorial race. Sinclair's 1906 journalistic novel, "The Jungle," revealed the wretched conditions faced by workers in Chicago's meat-packing industry. The book prompted a federal investigation and the passage of food inspection legislation. Later, Sinclair moved to California. In the 1930s he proposed the socialization of California factories as part of an "End Poverty in California" plan that, Critchlow says, "attracted wild enthusiasm." He announced his interest in the governorship, won the Democratic primary, and was expected to defeat his moderate Republican rival, Governor Frank Merriam, much to the horror of the California business community.
The heads of the major studios - who, unlike their employees, were never swept up in the tide of redistributionism - sprang into action. Mayer, Cecil B. DeMille, Walt Disney and Samuel Goldwyn made generous financial contributions to Merriam. More significantly, they threatened to move their business to another state if Sinclair became governor, and produced "a series of shorts to be shown in movie theaters across California... which depicted Sinclair supporters as bums, criminals, and nuts." The campaign proved effective. Merriam was re-elected. The status quo - albeit a basically Keynesian status quo, since Merriam worked to coordinate federal and state relief efforts - was preserved.
Fast-forward to the 1940s, to one of the most notorious periods in Hollywood history. Communist influence in Hollywood had been limited, but the issue drew national attention. In 1940, Texas representative Martin Dies, who chaired the House Special Committee on Un-American Activities, came to town to conduct a hearing. California state senator Jack Tenney held his own hearings, with the encouragement of Disney. (Disney was concerned about communist infiltration of the Screen Cartoonists Guild.) The issue heated up in 1944 with the formation of the Motion Picture Alliance for the Preservation of American Ideals, a group of fiercely anticommunist conservatives and some liberals that Critchlow conjectures might have been started by Mayer. (Its provenance is uncertain.) Some of the leading stars of the day - Barbara Stanwyck, Spencer Tracy, Clark Gable, Cary Grant - signed on, along with important screenwriters. MPA members met regularly at an American Legion hall. Their goal was to drive communists out of town and out of the unions. These were the early days of the Cold War. Hollywood anticommunists were eager to join the fight.
Partly because of the attention received by the MPA, in 1947 the House Un-American Activities Committee - the successor to the Dies Committee - held hearings on communist influence in Hollywood. With wide media coverage, the committee heard testimony from several witnesses, such as Cooper and Ayn Rand, that communist subversion in the movies was real. Not only were there card-carrying communists in the industry, but anti-capitalist, collectivist messages and lines had sometimes made their way into big studio films. Other anti-communist witnesses, like Ronald Reagan, felt that the problem was a thing of the past.
"Unfriendly" witnesses - screenwriters, mostly - were also called, including Trumbo. They denounced the proceedings as a sham and refused to discuss allegations of their own connection to communism, or the connections of their colleagues.
Studio heads were called to testify too. Mayer and Jack Warner played down charges against the industry. (Disney did not.) The HUAC hearings were bad publicity. Better to handle the problem internally. This the studios did by enforcing a blacklist against the "Hollywood Ten" - the unfriendly witnesses at the hearing who ended up serving prison terms for their unwillingness to cooperate - as well as other suspected communists and fellow travelers. In the minds of studio executives the need for the blacklist was amplified by the outbreak of the Korean War in 1950, which made it more important than ever to root out any possible influence from Moscow, and by a series of bitter strikes that beset the industry in 1945 and 1946; some saw the strikes as orchestrated by the communists. The blacklist remained in effect throughout the 1950s.
While the story of the Hollywood Ten is well-known, Critchlow argues that one of the effects of the Red Scare has not been fully appreciated: through the influence of the Hollywood Right it lent momentum to the political career of Richard Nixon.
Nixon was first elected to Congress in 1946. Although he had the backing of Mayer and DeMille, he didn't need it. His opponent had been a Sinclair supporter, and the Southern California district they sought to represent was swinging right.
During his time in the House, however, Nixon carved out a reputation for being exactly the kind of Republican who deserved more than token support from the film industry. It's commonly observed that Nixon came to national prominence as a HUAC member who pursued espionage allegations against Alger Hiss. Nixon's performance in the Hiss hearings established his credentials as a Red fighter, but Critchlow suggests that more important for studio heads and some other Hollywood anticommunists was that Nixon recognized the delicate position the Red Scare put them in. They wanted a purge as much as anyone but grandstanding risked charges of intolerance or worse. Nixon was sympathetic and made sure to snub more wacko anti-communist crusaders such as Myron Fagan, who saw in the communist menace a Jewish conspiracy. (GOP leaders have always faced the problem of how to handle the far-right fringe.)
This endeared Nixon to the Hollywood Right. Their support would prove essential a few years later when he ran for Senate in 1950. His opponent was a left-leaning actress named Helen Gahagan Douglas. Douglas needed to downplay her liberalism in order to carry the state, and hence could not seek the endorsements of too many stars. Nixon faced no such constraints. DeMille provided major financial support, while celebrities like Irene Dunne, Randolph Scott, Ginger Rogers and Leo Carrillo rallied voters to Nixon's side. Once elected, Nixon came to see Hollywood's interests as his own. He "kept up a steady stream of correspondence with actors, studio directors and others associated with the entertainment industry." In turn, they (along with big money donors like Walter Knott of Knott's Berry Farm) backed his vice-presidential nomination in 1952, his failed presidential bid in 1960 and his failed run at the California governorship in 1962. (Nixon's Hollywood support had largely fallen away by the time of the 1968 presidential campaign, Critchlow says.)
There are two other crucial parts of Critchlow's account, and their names are Barry Goldwater and Ronald Reagan. But I can't give away everything! Suffice it to say that when conservative stars turned out en masse for Goldwater's 1964 campaign, particularly in California, they were losing a battle but providing essential ideological matériel for a longer-term war of conservative ascendance nationally. Conservative Republicans learned an important lesson: a little patriotic schmaltz, mixed with celebrity, can make a reactionary message go down better. (My interpretation, not Critchlow's.) In Reagan, elected governor of California in 1966, Hollywood conservatives found a winner - just as larger cultural forces were beginning to make them seem like dinosaurs to key movie-going (and TV-watching) audiences.
The stories Critchlow tells are fascinating in their own right. From a broader perspective, they also help inform our understanding of the complicated pathways by which some major American institutions - the film industry, journalism, academia - have, over time, come to tilt further to the left (not uniformly, as the book makes clear), while other institutions - religion, law, corporate America and the GOP itself - have come to lean further to the right. It's easy to bash Tea Partiers in Congress, and they deserve it. But the truth is that the roots of American political polarization and dysfunction are to be found in institutional dynamics that stretch back decades.

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