Vile Ad Hominem

The usually-sensible Ombudsgod has a story about the Florida Libertarian party, in which he (or she) writes:

In other words, not even the Libertarian Party thinks it can win races, and it is their national strategy to act as spoilers ? a strategy that does indeed ?force the other guys to show up and play.? As for describing the party as rag tag, I think the term is fairly accurate, although “pot heads” might be more precise. And if you don?t agree, consider their national goal — targeting ?GOP and Democratic incumbents who oppose the decriminalization and legalization of drugs.?

Though I am not a Libertarian, and I don’t think that drug decriminalization should be the focus of political activity, I do favor it, and I deeply resent statements like this.

To see why, let’s turn it around. I’ll assume that the Ombudsgod doesn’t favor affirmative action, at least in its quota, goals, timetables sense (if that assumption is off, the example may have less sting, but it’s still illustrative).

“As for describing the the Ombudsgod as reactionary, I think the term is fairly accurate, although “racist” might be more precise. And if you don?t agree, consider his goal — targeting ‘GOP and Democratic incumbents who oppose the ending of affirmative action.'”

Now assuming that the Ombudsgod is not a racist (another assumption that I do make), such a statement should be infuriating, and even slanderous. But it differs in no significant way from the Ombudsgod’s statement.

I don’t smoke pot. I don’t partake of any other illegal drug. I have no desire to do so, and wouldn’t even if it were fully legal. But I believe that the War On (Some) Drugs is a major policy error, a violation of human liberty, and that it is desecrating the Bill of Rights. That is, I oppose it on principle.

There are no doubt many who want to legalize drugs because they want to do drugs legally, but that doesn’t justify attacks on the characters of those who oppose the WOSD for other reasons, just as the fact that some who oppose affirmative action because they are racist doesn’t mean that all (or even many) who oppose it are.

If conservatives, and others who want to continue to wage war on the American people under the guise of waging war on inanimate substances want to defend that policy, they should do so on its merits, rather than simply demonizing their opponents as addled drug users. That is, if they want us to take them, or their arguments, seriously.

[Friday morning update]

The Ombudsgod responds to my remarks:

If his point is that people can oppose the Drug War without being users, the point is well taken, but I don?t think that?s what I said. To get back to his rather inflammatory analogy to affirmative action — if the hypothetical OmbudsGod Party has an electoral strategy that consists almost exclusively of targeting politicians who favor affirmative action, then I think it would be reasonable to conclude that the party is racist. The key being not the opposition to affirmative action, but rather the placing of such an extraordinary priority on that one issue.

I don’t know why my analogy is more “inflammatory” than the Ombudsgod’s original post. But that aside, I still don’t agree. Just because someone feels strongly about affirmative action, or the drug war, even strongly enough to make it a single issue, still doesn’t imply that they are either a racist or a drug user.

I think that the drug war is a very important issue, for reasons stated above. If I don’t make it my only issue, it’s probably (among other reasons) because it’s currently futile and politically counterproductive. Despite my teetotaling status, I certainly would like to see politicians of all political stripes lose elections over it, but I don’t expect it to happen, and if it does, I don’t expect the body politic to admit that it happened for that reason.

And I generally agree with Rishawn Biddle’s comments at the Ombudsgod’s site about the Libertarian Party.

Right Actions, Wrong Reasons

Well, we finally have some prominent Palestinians (including Peter Jennings girlfriend, Ms. Ashrawi) condemning the murderous terror attacks. But even when some of them finally do the right thing, they still can’t do it for the right reason.

Ghassan Khatib, who headed the think tank and was recently named Labor Minister, said the modest decline in support for bombings was due to three reasons: international criticism of the Palestinians, the damage done to the Palestinian image by the bombings, and the consequences for the Palestinians, including Israel’s military responses.

But no decline in support because they’re morally odious? Because it’s evil to deliberately drive nails into babies, often head first?

No, they just think it’s a bad idea because it’s counterproductive, and makes them look bad. What a sick, sick culture.

CyberSpace

Orrin Judd emails me with a link to a very nice (and long) essay in the Atlantic on exploring space from your computer.

I haven’t read the whole thing, but glancing over it, this paragraph jumped out at me:

A ghostly mass of battered rock, Earth’s satellite is an archetypal solar-system object, with surface features echoing those of many of the planets and moons arrayed in far-flung archipelagos around the Sun. But it’s much more than that?at least in the human context. The longer one considers it, the more its tidal influence grows. Without that luminescent lure would there even have been a pull to leave this planet?

The Moon is much more than that. Without it, we might not have developed the mathematics needed to get us to it. But more fundamentally, it’s possible that we wouldn’t exist at all–without the tides to periodically strand creatures in the shallows, none of them might have ever transitioned from the ocean to the land.

I remember reading an essay by Asimov many years ago, in which he described all the ways that the Moon might have been critical to the development of both life in general, and to intelligent life, and our own development in particular. In fact, I believe that he argued that such a large secondary body might be a necessary prerequisite for LAWKI (at least for it to develop naturally), and that this added one more factor to the Drake equation, further narrowing the odds of finding company in the universe.

Can’t We Just Stop Getting Along?

There’s a forum tomorrow night in Washington to discuss the benefits (and I hope, the pitfalls) of international cooperation in space. When I look over the list of speakers, I’m wondering which, if any, of them will carry the banner of opposition to cooperation. None, would be my guess. My readers won’t be surprised to learn that I have some opinions on this subject, some of them informed.

There are two traditional arguments for it. The first is that cooperation in space promotes cooperation on other levels, and promotes world peace in general. The second is that it saves money, and makes projects affordable that wouldn’t be if carried out alone.

There are also some other reasons, particularly in the case of the space station, that international cooperation is favored by the bureaucrats at the State Department.

It offered a means of providing foreign aid to Russia, without having it counted against the foreign aid budget. In the early 1990s, there were also some national security aspects to this–the hope was that by paying Russian engineers to build space station hardware, it would deter them from taking pay from countries in the “Axis of Evil” to build nuclear weapons, and missiles with which to deliver them. Think of it as “midnight basketball” for the Russians.

But despite this, the money came not from the defense budget–it came from NASA. And, unfortunately, it didn’t always work.

Another benefit, that few appreciate, is that it keeps our allies’ space programs under our control. We’ve learned well the lesson of Ariane, in which the Europeans developed their own rocket, which has since grabbed much of the commercial launch market, because we refused to fly a payload for them back in the seventies.

It’s much easier to jerk the Japanese and Europeans around, and prevent them from going off on their own and potentially doing something that will actually put them ahead of us in space (not very difficult, if one wanted to make a little investment), if we inextricably entangle them in our own space policy mess. It allows us to hobble them, instead of just ourselves.

But assuming, just for the sake of argument, that our goal is to actually make serious progress on the high frontier (though there’s little available evidence that that’s actually the case), then cooperative efforts are probably counterproductive.

As I already mentioned, there is a myth that it makes space activities more affordable. In fact, it probably increases costs.

It certainly does for the program as a whole, due to the intrinsic management inefficiencies of such a program, and the vast increase in political influences on program decisions. But it probably increases them for the US as well, compared to an efficient program designed to meet technical and cost goals (as opposed to one aimed at creating jobs in Texas, Alabama, Florida, France and Russia).

Certainly the many delays caused by failure of the Russians to deliver hardware on schedule in the 90s were a significant contributor to the billions of dollars in overruns currently plaguing the ISS program (though certainly not the only one). Unfortunately, much of the money went to dachas, yachts and off-shore bank accounts of crooked Russian politicians, rather than to the engineers to build space hardware (which may explain why some of them still sold missile guidance systems to Iran), but Al Gore never seemed to mind.

And of course, it reduces, and even eliminates any prospect (however small) of actual competition, which might show up our activities for the overpriced welfare for engineers that many of them, sadly, are.

But even if, in defiance of history, it actually did save us money to join with other nations, the notion that we can’t afford it on our own is silly. The NASA budget is less than one percent of the federal budget. As a nation, we spend about as much on pet food as we do on space. We can easily afford it–we simply choose not to.

While it sounds lofty and enobling, like the Outer Space Treaty, this mindset of “going to space in peace for all mankind” is an outdated Cold War relic, that has not served us well in expanding into space. Historically, there have been two primary fuels for human progress–fear and greed. Fear got us to the Moon in the 1960s, and we did it alone.

Now, to have a sustainable effort, we must harness greed. And that means competition, at least in part.

With only one player in the race, there’s no way to judge progress–if a space station that was supposed to launch in 1992 isn’t up until 2002, it’s too easy to simply say, “it’s just hard–no one else could do any better.” When someone else beats you to it, though, it’s a lot more difficult to make excuses.

I wish other nations well in their space efforts, and hope that they will be vigorous and successful, but I don’t want to hold their hands (in space, no one can hear you sing “Kumbaya”). I want to compete with them, so we all are motivated to do our best. That is how we progress in every other sphere of life, and it’s the most promising route for progress in space as well.

Can’t We Just Stop Getting Along?

There’s a forum tomorrow night in Washington to discuss the benefits (and I hope, the pitfalls) of international cooperation in space. When I look over the list of speakers, I’m wondering which, if any, of them will carry the banner of opposition to cooperation. None, would be my guess. My readers won’t be surprised to learn that I have some opinions on this subject, some of them informed.

There are two traditional arguments for it. The first is that cooperation in space promotes cooperation on other levels, and promotes world peace in general. The second is that it saves money, and makes projects affordable that wouldn’t be if carried out alone.

There are also some other reasons, particularly in the case of the space station, that international cooperation is favored by the bureaucrats at the State Department.

It offered a means of providing foreign aid to Russia, without having it counted against the foreign aid budget. In the early 1990s, there were also some national security aspects to this–the hope was that by paying Russian engineers to build space station hardware, it would deter them from taking pay from countries in the “Axis of Evil” to build nuclear weapons, and missiles with which to deliver them. Think of it as “midnight basketball” for the Russians.

But despite this, the money came not from the defense budget–it came from NASA. And, unfortunately, it didn’t always work.

Another benefit, that few appreciate, is that it keeps our allies’ space programs under our control. We’ve learned well the lesson of Ariane, in which the Europeans developed their own rocket, which has since grabbed much of the commercial launch market, because we refused to fly a payload for them back in the seventies.

It’s much easier to jerk the Japanese and Europeans around, and prevent them from going off on their own and potentially doing something that will actually put them ahead of us in space (not very difficult, if one wanted to make a little investment), if we inextricably entangle them in our own space policy mess. It allows us to hobble them, instead of just ourselves.

But assuming, just for the sake of argument, that our goal is to actually make serious progress on the high frontier (though there’s little available evidence that that’s actually the case), then cooperative efforts are probably counterproductive.

As I already mentioned, there is a myth that it makes space activities more affordable. In fact, it probably increases costs.

It certainly does for the program as a whole, due to the intrinsic management inefficiencies of such a program, and the vast increase in political influences on program decisions. But it probably increases them for the US as well, compared to an efficient program designed to meet technical and cost goals (as opposed to one aimed at creating jobs in Texas, Alabama, Florida, France and Russia).

Certainly the many delays caused by failure of the Russians to deliver hardware on schedule in the 90s were a significant contributor to the billions of dollars in overruns currently plaguing the ISS program (though certainly not the only one). Unfortunately, much of the money went to dachas, yachts and off-shore bank accounts of crooked Russian politicians, rather than to the engineers to build space hardware (which may explain why some of them still sold missile guidance systems to Iran), but Al Gore never seemed to mind.

And of course, it reduces, and even eliminates any prospect (however small) of actual competition, which might show up our activities for the overpriced welfare for engineers that many of them, sadly, are.

But even if, in defiance of history, it actually did save us money to join with other nations, the notion that we can’t afford it on our own is silly. The NASA budget is less than one percent of the federal budget. As a nation, we spend about as much on pet food as we do on space. We can easily afford it–we simply choose not to.

While it sounds lofty and enobling, like the Outer Space Treaty, this mindset of “going to space in peace for all mankind” is an outdated Cold War relic, that has not served us well in expanding into space. Historically, there have been two primary fuels for human progress–fear and greed. Fear got us to the Moon in the 1960s, and we did it alone.

Now, to have a sustainable effort, we must harness greed. And that means competition, at least in part.

With only one player in the race, there’s no way to judge progress–if a space station that was supposed to launch in 1992 isn’t up until 2002, it’s too easy to simply say, “it’s just hard–no one else could do any better.” When someone else beats you to it, though, it’s a lot more difficult to make excuses.

I wish other nations well in their space efforts, and hope that they will be vigorous and successful, but I don’t want to hold their hands (in space, no one can hear you sing “Kumbaya”). I want to compete with them, so we all are motivated to do our best. That is how we progress in every other sphere of life, and it’s the most promising route for progress in space as well.

Can’t We Just Stop Getting Along?

There’s a forum tomorrow night in Washington to discuss the benefits (and I hope, the pitfalls) of international cooperation in space. When I look over the list of speakers, I’m wondering which, if any, of them will carry the banner of opposition to cooperation. None, would be my guess. My readers won’t be surprised to learn that I have some opinions on this subject, some of them informed.

There are two traditional arguments for it. The first is that cooperation in space promotes cooperation on other levels, and promotes world peace in general. The second is that it saves money, and makes projects affordable that wouldn’t be if carried out alone.

There are also some other reasons, particularly in the case of the space station, that international cooperation is favored by the bureaucrats at the State Department.

It offered a means of providing foreign aid to Russia, without having it counted against the foreign aid budget. In the early 1990s, there were also some national security aspects to this–the hope was that by paying Russian engineers to build space station hardware, it would deter them from taking pay from countries in the “Axis of Evil” to build nuclear weapons, and missiles with which to deliver them. Think of it as “midnight basketball” for the Russians.

But despite this, the money came not from the defense budget–it came from NASA. And, unfortunately, it didn’t always work.

Another benefit, that few appreciate, is that it keeps our allies’ space programs under our control. We’ve learned well the lesson of Ariane, in which the Europeans developed their own rocket, which has since grabbed much of the commercial launch market, because we refused to fly a payload for them back in the seventies.

It’s much easier to jerk the Japanese and Europeans around, and prevent them from going off on their own and potentially doing something that will actually put them ahead of us in space (not very difficult, if one wanted to make a little investment), if we inextricably entangle them in our own space policy mess. It allows us to hobble them, instead of just ourselves.

But assuming, just for the sake of argument, that our goal is to actually make serious progress on the high frontier (though there’s little available evidence that that’s actually the case), then cooperative efforts are probably counterproductive.

As I already mentioned, there is a myth that it makes space activities more affordable. In fact, it probably increases costs.

It certainly does for the program as a whole, due to the intrinsic management inefficiencies of such a program, and the vast increase in political influences on program decisions. But it probably increases them for the US as well, compared to an efficient program designed to meet technical and cost goals (as opposed to one aimed at creating jobs in Texas, Alabama, Florida, France and Russia).

Certainly the many delays caused by failure of the Russians to deliver hardware on schedule in the 90s were a significant contributor to the billions of dollars in overruns currently plaguing the ISS program (though certainly not the only one). Unfortunately, much of the money went to dachas, yachts and off-shore bank accounts of crooked Russian politicians, rather than to the engineers to build space hardware (which may explain why some of them still sold missile guidance systems to Iran), but Al Gore never seemed to mind.

And of course, it reduces, and even eliminates any prospect (however small) of actual competition, which might show up our activities for the overpriced welfare for engineers that many of them, sadly, are.

But even if, in defiance of history, it actually did save us money to join with other nations, the notion that we can’t afford it on our own is silly. The NASA budget is less than one percent of the federal budget. As a nation, we spend about as much on pet food as we do on space. We can easily afford it–we simply choose not to.

While it sounds lofty and enobling, like the Outer Space Treaty, this mindset of “going to space in peace for all mankind” is an outdated Cold War relic, that has not served us well in expanding into space. Historically, there have been two primary fuels for human progress–fear and greed. Fear got us to the Moon in the 1960s, and we did it alone.

Now, to have a sustainable effort, we must harness greed. And that means competition, at least in part.

With only one player in the race, there’s no way to judge progress–if a space station that was supposed to launch in 1992 isn’t up until 2002, it’s too easy to simply say, “it’s just hard–no one else could do any better.” When someone else beats you to it, though, it’s a lot more difficult to make excuses.

I wish other nations well in their space efforts, and hope that they will be vigorous and successful, but I don’t want to hold their hands (in space, no one can hear you sing “Kumbaya”). I want to compete with them, so we all are motivated to do our best. That is how we progress in every other sphere of life, and it’s the most promising route for progress in space as well.

Club Fed?

If this story is true, Grayout Davis may have more to worry about than just losing an election.

[Update on Thursday morning]

The story seems to have disappeared. If I can find it in the archives, I’ll fix the link. But it was describing the fact that the FBI has been sniffing around Sacramento, in the state capitol building, and perhaps in the executive offices as well. And it described the previous successful sting operation back in the 80s that nabbed several politicians for bribery and corruption.

[Thursday afternoon update]

Thanks to Ken Summers, who dug the link out of the archive, it should work now.

Biting Commentary about Infinity…and Beyond!