It’s impossible to talk about the Civil War without considering the strange place it holds in American history as a founding myth. For the South in particular, the Civil War is still a defining cultural moment, in which a pantheon of men fought for a glorious lost cause.
That’s nonsense, of course. The cause was neither glorious nor, unfortunately, entirely lost. Remnants of the old Southern order cling to power even today, and the motives driving the conflict and its participants are well excavated. But the figures caught up in that struggle are still fascinating, and few of them more so than Stonewall Jackson.
The legendarily truculent general is the subject of Rebel Yell: The Violence, Passion, and Redemption of Stonewall Jackson, a new book by Pulitzer Prize-nominated historian and journalist S.C. Gwynne. A longtime Texas resident, Gwynne spent 14 years writing for Texas Monthly and won widespread acclaim—as well the Texas Book Award—for his 2010 book Empire of the Summer Moon: Quanah Parker and the Rise and Fall of the Comanches, the Most Powerful Indian Tribe in American History. Gwynne lives in Austin.
Rebel Yell explores the life and military career of a man contemporaries found both deeply odd and infuriatingly secretive. Jackson was famous for his quirks. “There never was a greater sleeper,” John Esten Cooke wrote in Stonewall Jackson: A Military History, noting that Jackson could pass out anywhere from the back of a horse to a military meal tent with food still in his mouth. Jackson believed that one arm was longer than the other and rode from place to place with the offending limb raised to improve its circulation. But he also made his reputation, Rebel Yell suggests, by being a forceful and dangerous commander, the kind of man Southern historians would hold up as a champion after his death. While Jackson’s end was inglorious—he was killed by friendly fire—the mythology surrounding him has grown steadily since his death, and his tactics and campaign strategies during the early part of the war are still studied as models of military acumen.
We have just four weeks before Election Day, and realities are clicking into place. Monday was the last day new voters could register. And Tuesday served as one of the last checkpoints in the money race, as 30-day financial reports were released online.
The reports, which track fundraising and spending from July 1 to Sept. 25, show more similarities with the last round of reports than differences. In the marquee governor’s race, Greg Abbott continues to hold on to a massive war chest—he has more than $30.1 million in cash on hand, even though he’s spent more than $17.6 million and raised only $7.8 million in the last three months. It’s a superhuman sum. His report spans some 2,706 pages.
Davis’ finances are more complicated, in part because the campaign’s effort is split into three groups—but the campaign reports some $5.7 million in cash on hand split across four committees. That’s a little more than a fifth of Abbott’s sum. In spending, though, Davis has been keeping better pace with Abbott.
The campaign itself reports $6.8 million in contributions, plus another $1 million in in-kind donations, similar figures to Abbott’s haul. Battleground Texas, the campaign’s field arm, took in a little over $2.6 million, while spending $2.9 million. Battleground has only $473,000 remaining as of Sept. 25. Davis has never been able to compete with Abbott on a purely financial level, and the gap would seem to be growing. At the same time, as the race nears the finish line, opportunities for Abbott to spend that money diminish.
Together, it’s likely that Davis and Abbott will collectively raise more than $100 million this election. That’s a staggering sum, but it’s still likely to fall short of the $125 million raised and spent by Democrat Tony Sanchez and Rick Perry in 2002 but only because Sanchez spent out of his personal fortune.
In the lt. governor’s race, Republican Dan Patrick is better-positioned than Democrat Leticia Van de Putte, but his advantage is much less than Abbott’s. Patrick has $4.3 million in cash on hand compared to Van de Putte’s $2.2 million. He outraised Van de Putte $4.26 million to $3.1 million. But Van de Putte outspent Patrick more than 2-to-1 in the last three months—she spent $1.75 million, while he spent $804,000.
In the attorney general’s race, where Ken Paxton is biding his time till victory against Sam Houston, Paxton has almost 13 times as much money in the bank as Houston does, and raised more than 15 times as much money.
Up in Ft. Worth’s Senate District 10, things are more interesting. Democrat Libby Willis is fighting an uphill battle to save Wendy Davis’ soon-to-be-former seat for the Democratic Party against tea party organizer Konni Burton. This summer, Burton’s fundraising was kind of lackluster, but most people assumed money would pour into her campaign from the usual GOP donors at the last minute.
That hasn’t happened, and Willis has gotten a massive boost from Back to Basics PAC, a campaign finance vehicle heavily underwritten by Houston trial lawyer Steve Mostyn, the state’s biggest Dem donor. On Sept. 12, Back to Basics wrote Willis a $500,000 check—an enormous sum for a legislative race—bringing her contributions for the period to a little under $734,000. She spent just under $331,000, and has almost $475,000 remaining, with $88,000 in outstanding loans.
Burton’s numbers are comparatively anemic. She took in a little over $335,000, spent only $140,000, and has just over $200,000 left—plus $255,000 in outstanding loans. But there’s a strong possibility GOP donors will now race to match Mostyn’s money.
Money’s an important part of these campaigns, but it’s not everything. Battleground is talking up their success at building the Democratic volunteer base: According to its latest statement, 31,000 volunteers “have made 3.9 million phone calls to voters, and reached out to voters at the doors more than 1.2 million times.”
What effect will all that have? We’ll see in a couple weeks. But there’s some reason to think it’s made an impact. As the Houston Chroniclereported yesterday, the number of registered voters in the state’s five most populous counties has increased 2 percent since 2012—though that still doesn’t keep pace with population growth, at 2.6 percent. In majority Latino Bexar County, voter registration numbers is 3.6 percent higher than 2012. In 2010, during the last midterm election, the number of registered voters in the Texas’ five biggest counties actually declined from the previous cycle. Texas being what it is, higher voter registration numbers will almost inevitably help Democrats.
Ed Graf is once again on trial for a crime that many experts say he likely didn’t commit.
Jury selection for Graf’s re-trial on capital murder charges began this morning in a Waco courtroom. Graf was convicted in 1988 of starting a fire in a shed that killed his 8- and 9-year-old stepsons. He served 25 years of a life sentence before his conviction was overturned last year. Graf has maintained his innocence, and much of the physical evidence in the case supports his claims. Three nationally known fire scientists and the State Fire Marshal’s Office’s expert panel have examined the forensic evidence against Graf and concluded there’s no proof that Graf committed arson. And yet he’s once again on trial for his life.
In 2009, the Observer was the first media outlet to examine the flaws in Graf’s conviction, part of a series on faulty arson cases. Since Graf was convicted a quarter century ago, the field of fire investigation has advanced considerably. Many of the indicators investigators once used to distinguish an intentionally set fire from an accidental one—and to convict hundreds of people of arson, including Graf—have been disproven. Similarly, nearly all the forensic evidence that convicted Graf of arson in 1988, such as burn patterns in the wooden shed, has now been debunked.
At a January 2013 hearing, fire scientist Doug Carpenter eviscerated the case against Graf, testifying that, “There is no evidence to be able to formulate a valid hypothesis that this is an incendiary fire.”
In March 2013, the Court of Criminal Appeals, the state’s highest criminal court, agreed and overturned Graf’s conviction. At that point, it was up to McLennan County prosecutors to decide whether to free Graf or attempt to re-try him.
A re-trial seemed unlikely given that nearly all the physical evidence had been undermined and the prosecution’s own expert agreed there was no proof of arson.
In June 2013, the State Fire Marshal Office’s Science Advisory Workgroup—a panel of six experts examining old arson cases in the wake of the Cameron Todd Willingham fiasco—also concluded there was no evidence of arson. The State Fire Marshal’s Office sent McLennan County DA Abel Reyna a letter notifying him that the office had changed its classification of the Graf case from “arson” to “undetermined.” If there was no arson, then no crime was committed, and Graf is, by definition, innocent.
Yet Reyna and the DA’s office plunged ahead with a new trial of Graf, who, having spent 25 years in state prison, remains incarcerated in the county jail.
Prosecutors will have little physical evidence on their side. They will have to rely on the circumstantial evidence in the case, including the life insurance policies Graf took out on the kids that he sought to collect after the fire.
In that sense, the re-trial will test whether prosecutors can win a conviction with circumstantial evidence alone. It will also test just how far Texas has come in dealing with arson cases: Graf is the first disputed case to be re-tried since the Willingham controversy and since the state began its review of older arson convictions.
Given the stakes, the proceedings aren’t off to an encouraging start. The re-trial was delayed twice because prosecutors’ original files have gone missing. At a bizarre hearing last week, former DA Vic Feazell, who prosecuted Graf in 1988, traded accusations with his ex-wife about what happened to the files. Though attorneys on both sides have located copies of the files, the originals are still missing, and it’s unclear if any relevant evidence has disappeared as well.
Meanwhile, the re-trial has garnered national attention. National Public Radio will air a story on the Graf re-trial on “All Things Considered” this afternoon.
Prosecutors may begin presenting their circumstantial case late today or tomorrow morning. I’ll be at the trial this week and will post updates in this space.
Has the entire country just laid down and given up?
Texas Supreme Court Justice John Devine seems to think so. Devine is on the court, having won what the Observer called in 2012 “The Oddest Race in Texas.” He believes the U.S. Constitution should be applied strictly to modern-day legal issues, and if given the choice, would probably reach back even further. Devine recently joined Ohio Christian University’s “Faith & Liberty” talk show, and his remarks were as follows, courtesy a transcript from Right Wing Watch:
It’s like the Ten Commandments, if we would just stick to those basic principles our nation would be far better off and we would once again be the light on the hill. And unfortunately, the church has gone to sleep, many Americans have gone to sleep and we have allowed those with these progressive ideas to inhabit the White House and almost every facet of government.
Sleep, the silent killer, rears its ugly head yet again. And what can be done? Who will rescue us from the modern-day snooze buttons of the soul?
As Chris Hooks wrote here earlier this week, Perry approached his inauguration in Lubbock this week with tremendous flair, one hand on the Bible, two lips on his wife and America’s soul on the line. Perry kept the brimstone lit pretty much start-to-finish, suggesting the Obama administration is finishing what the Nazis began:
“The only difference is that the fraud of the Germans was more immediate and whereas the fraud of today’s government will not be exposed until the final days.”
Like Devine, Perry does not believe America should sleep:
A Japanese Imperial commander said he’d awakened a “sleeping giant” after the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, according to Perry. Today, the new state senator wonders where that giant is.
“Has the giant died?” Perry asked after being sworn in. “Where is that giant of a nation that was founded on the eternal and never-changing values of a loving God and the desire to share that? I don’t recognize it on so many levels today.”
And of course, we’ve got plenty more Charles Perry to look forward to next year—but not much more David Dewhurst. The outgoing lite guv, who’s about to have a lot more time to kill on the red carpet—dropped by the Values Voter Summit in Washington last Friday.
Dewhurst made great use of the word “literally”:
“I think about the last year and the tsunami of unaccompanied children and what that means, and literally the president opening up the red carpet for them to come here.”
He also took a discredited rumor based on specious intelligence, and repeated it to stoke fear and score political points. And maybe that’s about right: You find the one thing you love to do in this world and if you’re lucky, you get to wake up and do it tomorrow.
“Prayer rugs have recently been found on the Texas side of the border in the brush.”
Prayer rugs = Muslims = ISIS, of course, which is evidence that President Obama has literally opened the red carpet to the agents of America’s demise to cross our southern border. So long as they leave their prayer rugs behind.
Dewhurst hasn’t offered any new details on his sourcing, but it was probably based on a Breitbart Texas scoop from July, which quotes an unnamed “independent American security contractor”:
“That’s when I saw this thing laying around. And I was like, ‘What the hell is that?’ We walked over there and I didn’t really want to pull at it not knowing what was on it. I poked a bit at it with a stick and noticed some of the Arabic writing and was just like, ‘Oh boy.'”
Picking up on this exhaustive reporting, Gawkerdid a little sleuthing of its own and discovered that the prayer rug in the Breitbart piece may have also doubled as a soccer jersey, and was probably manufactured by Adidas, proving that the conspiracy runs even deeper than we’d thought.
And while we’re on the border, literally, Breitbart Texas‘ open line to the Border Patrol did yield a worthy nugget this week in the great annals of TV posturing, noting that Fusion TV anchor Jorge Ramos, as he swam across the Rio Grande in solidarity with illegal border crossers, was also swimming in raw sewage.
Speaking with Breitbart editor Brandon Darby, a Border Patrol spokesman, seasoned communications professional, explained what happened:
“The guy came down here and he literally swam with poo-poos.”
The only problem with that clip, really, is that Morgan Freeman didn’t narrate it.
Gov. Rick Perry and GOP House candidate Charles Perry pose for photos in 2010.
Recently, state Rep. Charles Perry (R-Lubbock) got himself elected to a state Senate seat. He’s replacing Robert Duncan, who was well-regarded as a pragmatic dealmaker, and will be missed by the people who like to see the Legislature pass bills. (Some do not.) In the special election that Perry won, he was strongly backed by groups like Michael Quinn Sullivan’s Empower Texans. He didn’t seem like he’d be one of the most extreme new senators. Maybe Perry wouldn’t be that guy. When dealing with the Texas Legislature—a frequently demoralizing experience—it’s important to keep an open mind, lest our hearts calcify.
After placing his hand on the Bible and taking the oath of office, state Sen. Charles Perry compared what he called the “spiritual battle” brewing across the nation to the Holocaust.
God has a place in the government, Perry explained in his inaugural speech as he vividly recalled a recent trip to a concentration camp in Berlin.
Well, that’s probably taken out of context. I bet that—
“There were 10,000 people that were paraded into a medical office under the guise of a physical. As they stood with their back against the wall, they were executed with a bullet through the throat. Before they left, 10,000 people met their fate that way,” Perry said.
“Is it not the same than when our government continues to perpetuate laws that lead citizens away from God? The only difference is that the fraud of the Germans was more immediate and whereas the fraud of today’s government will not be exposed until the final days and will have eternal-lasting effects.”
Hm. Well, sometimes politicians say extreme stuff like that, but when you get down to where the rubber meets the road they’re more thoughtful. I bet when we get to the start of the session that Perry will be more—
His biggest challenge will be the “spiritual battle for the spirit of this nation and the soul of its people,” he said.
When he gets to the capital, abortion and same-sex marriage will be at the forefront of discussion, Perry said.
“Roe v. Wade condemned 55 million innocent and defenseless souls that cried out for righteousness from a God who is just — we will answer for that as a nation,” Perry said, later noting that he has made clear his stance on gay marriage.
OK, but I bet Perry’s surrounding himself with thoughtful people that—
Also recalling a trip to a concentration camp, Pastor Jeff McCreight of Rock City Church compared abortion to the estimated 11 million people who died at the hands of the Nazis.
“The value of human life is continually being attacked by a 41-year-old Holocaust called abortion, which makes Hitler look like a humanitarian,” McCreight said.
That “attack” is why McCreight said Perry’s swearing in ceremony was so important.
If Dan Patrick wins the lt. governor’s race, can we call his Senate the “Salvation Army?”
At the second of two governor's race debates, Wendy Davis seemed a great deal more relaxed and comfortable.
If you only have time to watch one of the three major debates this election cycle, you should make it tonight’s debate in Dallas. If you’re pulling for Wendy Davis to do well, you’ll enjoy it. But it’s worth watching because something strange happened tonight: Like the sky opening up after a monsoon season of turgid talking points, Wendy Davis and Greg Abbott actually took each other on tonight, to a certain extent. And against all odds, something approximating a discussion about policy took place. Call it the Miracle at KERA.
True, the bar was low after the last debate—the state’s first real gubernatorial debate since 2006. (And in Texas, the bar is pretty low anyway.) And we didn’t get off to a promising start—the first question from the panel of moderators asked how Davis and Abbott would respond as governor to the discovery that a man in a hospital in Dallas has Ebola. Both candidates are anti-Ebola, a devastating blow to the state’s pro-disease caucus. “We want to make sure that this Ebola disease does not spread any further,” said Abbott, sagely.
But things got better. Davis and Abbott grappled with each other on two wide fronts—the first, over ethics issues. Davis was asked about her legal work, which she rebuffed and went through the list of accumulated attack lines about Abbott’s tenure as AG. (She gave a stronger refutation of the conflict-of-interest charge after she was pressed.)
But when Abbott was asked (at about 19:45 in the video) about accusations his office helped hide incompetence and mismanagement with Gov. Perry’s Texas Enterprise Fund, he didn’t handle it very well. He offered that the recently issued audit of the fund didn’t single him out for criticism. “From the beginning of my campaign I’ve been questioning this very fund,” he said. (Perhaps, one suspects, because he knew how badly it was being run.) He tried to turn the question back to Davis, but she beat it back forcefully. As to the question of why Abbott’s office helped hide non-existing TEF applications from reporters, he couldn’t really answer.
On the issues, Abbott and Davis made stark distinctions. Neither could really answer a question about how they’d fund their education plans, though Abbott at least had a dollar figure for student spending that made it appear that he had given it some thought. But Davis hit Abbott hard. It was ludicrous, she said, for Abbott to keep saying he would make Texas schools No. 1 while defending huge cuts to funding and refusing to commit to providing more resources.
“Mr. Abbott, you’re talking out of both sides of your mouth,” she said. “You say you want to make Texas No. 1 in education. You cannot accomplish that goal without making the appropriate investments.”
On immigration, Abbott committed, after some pushing, to not vetoing a bill from the Legislature that would eliminate in-state tuition for undocumented migrants. There’s been a question about how Abbott would interact with a Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick. Killing in-state tuition is one of Patrick’s top priorities, and Abbott’s on board, apparently.
But the best part of the debate might have been the discussion over Medicaid expansion—at about 29:30 in the video above. Medicaid expansion is, quite literally, a matter of life and death, one of the most serious issues in the race. If Medicaid isn’t expanded in Texas, a quantifiable number of people will suffer and die—unnecessarily. But it hasn’t come up in the race as much as it might.
Abbott said he’d ask the feds to give Texas its Medicaid dollars as a block grant to be spent as the state sees fit, which few think is a realistic possibility. He assured listeners that he “wouldn’t bankrupt Texas” by imposing on Texas the “overwhelming Obamacare disaster.”
Davis laid out a forceful argument for Medicaid expansion. “I have to laugh when I hear Mr. Abbott talk about bankrupting Texas,” she said. “Right now Texans are sending their hard-earned tax dollars to the IRS, $100 billion of which will never come back to work for us in our state unless we bring it back. As governor, I will it bring it back. Greg Abbott’s plan is for you to send that tax money to California and New York.” Abbott’s rebuttal left Davis smiling from ear to ear. The whole fairly long exchange is worth watching.
Abbott didn’t have a bad night, per se—though there were a couple of awkward moments that’ll likely be circulating in the coming days—but Davis had a very good one. Will it matter? By the end of the debate, Abbott was already referring to himself as a governor in the present tense—something his campaign’s social media guys didn’t feel the need to correct.
Davis can leave the debate stage of the race feeling pretty good about her performance. There’s just a little over a month to go.
This is a blog about Texas politics, so let’s talk about textile factories in the north of England, and the strong message they send about the total inability of our state’s most significant policy organ to handle cognitive dissonance. Bear with me for a second. (Or for a few minutes.)
Last week, Houston played host to a high-profile conference on energy issues, convened by the Texas Public Policy Foundation, which no less a source than Wikipedia describes as a “think tank.” It is the most influential such entity in Texas. The group, with the help of a great deal of corporate money, has the ear of the governor and much of the Legislature. What its legion of analysts say and do matters a great deal to the way Texans live. Sometimes they do valuable work. Sometimes they do bad work.
This being Texas, a respectable think tank needs Big Ideas about energy. The group’s message for the most part—and the message of the Houston conference—is that fossil fuels are Good, and we should use more of them. Even global warming is good, if you look at it in the right light, if you were to stipulate that it’s even happening, which it isn’t.
At TPPF, this wholesome message is mostly propagated these days by Kathleen Hartnett White. Before TPPF, White led the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality from 2001 to 2007. If you lived in Texas in the last decade, it was White’s ostensible responsibility to safeguard your lungs and general well-being, and to carefully weigh and balance those concerns against the demands of economic development—a weighty responsibility.
White has become an energy analyst at a fascinating time. Here’s the crux of Texas’ problem: We’ve discovered a new ocean of gas and oil under the state, which can make a significant number of people here—and to a lesser degree, our cash-strapped state in general—very rich. At the same time, the scientific community is more sure than ever before that burning those fuels will hurt us in very real ways. Some of us can live large now, but many others will pay a heavy price.
How can we navigate these complex questions? Into the rain-sodden arena of doubt drives White, in a coal-rolling Humvee upon which another Humvee has been delicately stacked, like a pair of mating dragonflies. Other conservative thinkers have questioned the economic efficiency of renewable energy. That meeker argument is becoming less powerful every day—even though White still calls renewable energy “parasitic,” unlike, one supposes, the heavily subsidized fossil fuel industry.
White’s flooring the gas pedal. Her magnum opus, “Fossil Fuels: The Moral Case,” takes the position that burning coal and oil is in fact a moral imperative. Coal and oil—cheap energy—led to modern prosperity, White writes, and turning away from them will reduce access to prosperity here and across the globe, with grave consequences.
It’s an odd argument partially because it’s hard to say what it stands in opposition to. As a contribution to a policy discourse, its existence only makes sense if you believe—as many do, apparently—that environmentalists desperately desire to tear down the power grid and return the human race to agrarian penury.
The question of balancing prosperity with environmental responsibility in poor parts of the world has been a constant subject of debate and discussion in the environmental movement for decades. And the role that coal played in the story of the industrial revolution isn’t exactly contested territory. Furthermore, coal’s role in the creation of modernity says nothing about our ability to find new sources of prosperity—if we, with our amazing ingenuity, built the combustion engine, why can’t we build a better one? Renewable energy is already bringing electricity to parts of the world that have never really had it before—in places like Tanzania, solar panels are a much better option for rural communities than connecting to the inefficient, poorly maintained national power grid.
But White’s been getting a lot of play with the paper—she’s done the rounds with it this summer. White was the star at the climate conference last week, where Rick Perry deigned to speak. And she’s proud of it: When White presented her paper at the Heritage Foundation in June, she told the crowd that writing the paper led her to “some fascinating books,” and that her curious wanderings included the discovery of “a jillion papers in academic journals.”
But her footnotes come from a mix of places: They range from the British tabloid The Daily Mail, an authoritative source on nothing, to the 17th century English political philosopher Thomas Hobbes. White re-reads Hobbes’ Leviathan and concludes that his theoretical concept of a pre-society, pre-government “state of nature” accurately depicts “preindustrial conditions for the average person.” Hm. There are actual journal articles—mostly from other think tankers. But there’s also reference to less auspicious sources.
The paper contains extensive block quotes and citations from The Rational Optimist: How Prosperity Evolves, a 2011 popular science book by Matt Ridley—otherwise known as Matthew White Ridley, 5th Viscount Ridley, a Conservative Party member of the United Kingdom’s House of Lords. In some circles, Ridley is most famous for helping to tank the British bank Northern Rock, where he served as chairman. Northern Rock’s spectacular implosion in 2007 was one of the precipitating events of the global financial apocalypse. Several years later, Ridley was awarded the Manhattan Institute’s Hayek Prize, for his ongoing contributions to the unimpeachable cause of the free market. In other circles, Ridley is most famous for his viral Ted Talk, “When Ideas Have Sex.” Ridley gave a keynote at the Houston conference.
But in lieu of a longer dissection of the paper, let’s consider White’s weirdest extrapolation of her argument. On page 17, she notes that the abolitionist movement in Britain happened concurrently with coal-fired industrial growth, and posits that the rise of factories “indeed increased and institutionalized compassion.”
First harnessed in the English Industrial Revolution, fossil fuels spawned unceasing economic growth-an unprecedented productivity of most benefit to the poor until then consigned to poverty and enslavement across the world.
In 1807, the British Parliament finally passed William Wilberforce’s bill to abolish the slave trade in the British Empire. In the same year, the largest industrial complex in the world powered and illuminated by coal opened in Manchester, England. Thus began the century-long process of converting mankind’s industry from the power of muscle, wood, wind, and water to stored solar energy in fossil fuels.
Fossil fuels dissolved the economic justification for slavery.
There’s some bad history in this passage, but it’s so much more than that. It’s a beautiful distillation of a worldview that shuns complexity in all forms.
Sure, there’s a discussion to be had about the reasons for the success of abolitionism in England. Was it a political and social movement, emerging from the Enlightenment, which succeeded in advancing a moral case, or did it happen merely for economic or practical reasons? At any rate, black Britons like Ignatius Sancho and Olaudah Equiano, who were seminal figures in the movement, were active decades before the period White describes. The major first touchstones in the eventual abolition of slavery in the British Empire happened either well before the industrial revolution, or at a point when the industrial revolution was in its absolute infancy.
But the key thing: In tying the abolition of the slave trade to the growth of industrial Manchester, White gets it exactly backwards. The fossil-fueled industrial revolution she’s describing didn’t “dissolve the economic justification for slavery,” it made slavery more lucrative. It made slavery worse.
Here’s why: the new factories in England White describes were producing manufactured goods. Incidentally, many of them—along with many of the touchstones of the industrial revolution, like James Watt’s steam engine—were financed with money from the slave trade. But those factories, most of which were producing textiles, needed raw materials. Foremost among those raw materials was cotton.
Manchester’s new ability to make cheap clothes for the English working class meant that the factories needed a lot more cotton—so demand for the blood-drenched crop exploded. Manchester’s industrial growth was enabled by slavery—something people in the north of England are well aware of. And it fed slavery, too. True, Britain outlawed the slave trade in 1807—but they kept slaves in the colonies until 1833. Afterward, they depended on American slavery. When the fruit of American slavery was finally disrupted at the points of the bayonets of the Army of the Potomac, Northern England plummeted into depression.
As industrial Manchester grew, the American institution of slavery ballooned in scale and scope. In 1800, American slaves produced 156,000 bales of cotton—in 1860, they produced more than 4 million bales. From 1790 to the start of the Civil War, the American slave population likewise multiplied from 700,000 to 4 million, due in large part to new industrial efficiency facilitating demand for cotton—including American contributions like the cotton gin.
Take the words of South Carolinian Thomas Cooper, who warned the British about the price of abolition in 1838. “Every slave in a southern state is an operative for Great Britain. We cannot work rich southern soil by white free labour,” Cooper wrote, “and if you will have Cotton Manufacturers, you must have them based upon slave labour.”
So White got it exactly backwards: The coal-fired industrial revolution exacerbated the problem of slavery. Does that mean that fossil fuels are evil? No, that would be extraordinarily silly—as silly as saying the opposite.
What it does show is that development is a double-edged sword. Things are almost never wholly good, or wholly bad. They’re complicated. They embody complex trade-offs. They have unintended consequences. That’s what the people of Texas asked White to consider when she was the head of TCEQ.
The environmental problems we face today—they are vast, and time for consequential action, knowledgable people tell us, is running short—are very complicated. Texas, as a capital of sorts for global energy development, has an outsized role to play in either our success or failure to cope with them. The people of the state deserve better than meager propaganda. At last week’s summit, in the belly of downtown Houston, White and colleagues got the space to explain to some of Texas’ more powerful people that “America’s energy is the right and moral solution” to the world’s problems.
Modernity—medicine, travel, leisure—is a nice thing. Slowly cooking the planet is not so nice. Helping us navigate trade-offs—taking the measure of the good and the bad of an issue, and finding a path that takes the most of the former and the least of the latter—is the highest possible service intelligent people in public life can render. If think tanks have any role to play, it’s that. But don’t go looking for it at the Texas Public Policy Foundation.
When Michael Morton walked out of prison in 2011, it was the close of a story that would put most legal thrillers to shame. Having spent 25 years in jail following a wrongful conviction for the murder of his wife, Morton was finally a free man, and he would eventually see the man who sent him away put—if only briefly—behind bars.
Morton tells that story in his new memoir, Getting Life: An Innocent Man’s 25-Year Journey from Prison to Peace. A review of the book will run in the new Books Issue of the Observer (check this space in early October), and Morton is slated for an appearance (details TBA) at the Texas Book Festival during the weekend of Oct. 25-26. If you’d like to hear what he has to say before that, though, Morton will present the book and speak at Austin’s LBJ Library on Tuesday, Sept. 30. He’ll be joined by Barry C. Scheck, co-founder and co-director of The Innocence Project, the nonprofit that utilizes DNA evidence to help overturn wrongful convictions.
Morton’s story is a remarkable one. He was arrested as the only suspect in the 1986 beating death of his wife in the couple’s home near Austin. Williamson County District Attorney Ken Anderson was later found to have withheld evidence that could have proved Morton’s innocence. Despite the testimony of his 3-year-old son, who witnessed the crime and claimed that his father wasn’t home at the time, Morton was convicted and given a life sentence. He spent almost a quarter-century behind bars, and was freed only after attorneys affiliated with The Innocence Project ran DNA tests on a bloody bandana found at the crime scene. Test results identified DNA from a known felon, Mark Norwood, who had killed another Texas woman in the time since Morton’s conviction. As a result of The Innocence Project’s work, Morton was exonerated. Anderson was later convicted for withholding evidence and spent five days in jail. .
Morton and Scheck will discuss the events behind Getting Life in a talk moderated by Mark Updegrove, director of the LBJ Library.
Attendance is exclusive to members of the LBJ Library, and costs $10 for their guests. The program includes a book signing prior to the talk and a reception following. Copies of Getting Life will be available for purchase.
Happy Friday! It’s the day we celebrate the fact that we, as a culture, collectively agree we spend 71 percent of our lives wishing it were the other 29 percent. (To simulate this feeling, people in the service industry should pretend it’s Sunday.)
I hope you’re doing something special tonight, like playing catch with your child as the dusk settles in around you or watching every episode of “BoJack Horseman” in a row and then questioning your life choices. At any rate, I hope you’re doing something more satisfying than what Observer staffers and their ilk were doing last Friday, which was live-tweeting the first (and yet penultimate) soundbite-off between gubernatorial candidates Wendy Davis and Greg Abbott.
I think this tweet from the Houston Chronicle’s Matt Schwartz sums it up nicely:
Christopher Hooks and Forrest Wilder gave a rundown of the substance and significance of the event, but I’m interested in the language. If last Friday you were, I don’t know, finally finishing that novel you’ve been working on, this is the level of discourse you missed. When asked how he would improve the speed of veterans’ medical service, Abbott listed the veterans in his and his wife’s families. “She had an uncle who served in the Army during World War II,” he said. Informative! Then Abbott asserted boldly, “The men and women who serve on the front line should not have to be pushed to the back of the line when it comes to their health care needs.”
[Keith Olbermann voice] So military support staff should go to the back of the line? Is that what you’re saying, sir? That we should create a hierarchy of access to medical treatment based on physical proximity to the front lines? Where does that leave women veterans who’ve historically been denied access to front-line duty? And why didn’t any of your family serve in World War I? Are you not proud of them? What kind of a name is Abbott, anyway—Austro-Hungarian?
The closest thing to drama came when Davis tried to respond to Abbott’s rebuttal on a question about education funding. (Note: she spoke after, not over, him.) The rules prohibited this—nobody wants this to turn into a whole “debate,” okay lady?—but Davis kept talking for a full 13 seconds after a moderator tried to shut her down. That’s an hour and a half in male politician crosstalk time. She was controlled and direct and spoke in exactly the same pitch and volume as before, so naturally, Davis-haters dubbed it a “meltdown.” The term got enough traction that Ken Herman of the Austin American-Statesman titled his Tuesday column, “Wendy Davis reaction not a ‘meltdown.'”
But it wasn’t enough buzz for said haters, who got mad that the The New York Times and Politico didn’t cover the debate. “If Abbott had pulled a similar disgraceful stunt on Davis, it would be national news. Abbott would be portrayed as having come unglued and perhaps even as a sexist if he had pointed his finger at her as she did at him,” whined Tom Blumer at NewsBusters.org.
Right. Because there’s nothing sexist about calling a woman’s firm defiance a “meltdown.”
(And hey, Tom, here’s the Wikipedia page for false equivalence. That should get you started.)
In Portuguese, there’s a word for things like the Davis-Abbott debate: chato. It means, roughly, “boring and annoying at the same time.” There were ways to spice it up, though. If you decided to drink every time Abbott said “Obama,” you’re probably just sobering up. (Nine times—yes, reporting!) You could also have read the stream of tweets mentioning Davis.
Nevermind, don’t do that.
But that was last week. That was a forum where both sides wanted to appeal to the state’s 14 moderate voters. This week offered more conventional WTF fodder: Ted Cruz showing he’s all about that base. At the Values Voter Summit in Washington, D.C. Friday, he warned, “These are dangerous, extreme, radical times” and said Democrats are “an extreme, radical party.” (Which is what I’m throwing at my house tonight. Hey-o!)
Amid Bible quotes, personal stories and a call to abolish the IRS (nice non-extreme-being!) Cruz also, notes the Daily Beast, “offered unattributed quotes from Barry Goldwater and Ronald Reagan, telling the crowd that the GOP ‘need[s] to offer a choice, not an echo’ and that ‘we don’t paint in pale pastels, we paint in bold colors.’” (Who’s his speechwriter, Fareed Zakaria? Hey-o!)
[Ed. note: Stop doing that.]
Still, Gov. Rick Perry may have won at this week’s WTF-ery not by what he said but what he didn’t say. According to the remarks posted on his official site, Perry prepared 1,615 words to say to the Texas Public Policy Foundation’s Energy and Climate Policy Summit, but not one of those words was “climate.”
He did, however, say that through 14 years of governance, “standing by my side along the way” was TPPF, a non-profit, non-partisan research institute. Aww.
Rather than acknowledging the existence of even a conversation about climate change, Perry fixated on Russia and his plan to beat Putin by… exporting natural gas.
“With the natural gas we now produce, we can help liberate our European allies from Russian energy aggression,” he said. “Energy is a weapon in the hands of aggressors. So I say, if energy is going to be used as a weapon, America should always have the largest arsenal. The arsenal of American energy will not, however, be used to bully other nations, but set them free.”
Oh good! More liberating! And setting free! America hasn’t liberated anybody in— [covers mic] (What was that? Again?? …okay.) Well, you can never spread too much liberty.
So this weekend, enjoy your liberties. Take liberties. Hell, be libertines. A lot of people will keep saying a lot of dumb stuff, and some of it will matter, and some of it won’t, but if it does, we’ll catch you up on it Monday. That’s our job. Is it dusk yet? No? Go sit outside and wait. It’ll come.