Paul Waldman is the Prospect's daily blogger and senior writer. He also blogs for the Plum Line at the Washington Post, and is the author of Being Right is Not Enough: What Progressives Must Learn From Conservative Success.
That's a Tesla superfan (which apparently is a thing) posing in front of the company's new Powerwall battery, which Elon Musk unveiled today. Meant for homes and businesses, the battery will allow users to store energy from their solar panels, windmills, or whatever else they're using to charge up their cars and power their homes without any help from the grid. Chris Mooney explains why this could be a really big deal as we head toward our promising future of distributed energy.
Yesterday, I wrote about how the explanation Baltimore police gave for the death of Freddie Gray was almost impossible to believe, and apparently, state's attorney Marilyn Mosby felt the same way after her investigation, because she announced today that she is charging six officers with crimes ranging from negligence to second-degree murder (you can watch her statement here). In a post at the Plum Line this morning, I raised the question of whether you could argue that the violence that occurred in Baltimore on Monday led to this prosecution and therefore produced some of the accountability people in Baltimore want so desperately. Here's a piece of that post:
The violence led to a huge increase in media attention, and even if much of that coverage was sensationalistic, there was also a lot of attention paid to the substantive issues involved. Those included the Baltimore police's record in dealing with the public generally, and in particular the use of "rough rides" as a method of abusing suspects, which is a likely explanation for how Freddie Gray came to have his spine broken in the back of a police van.
All that national attention put every public official under pressure to not only bring calm but also to confront the issues that have the people of Baltimore so angry: The police commissioner, the mayor, the governor, and yes, the state's attorney. While every official would like to believe that he or she would make all the same decisions regardless of whether there are people chanting in the streets and news cameras parked outside their office, they can't possibly be immune.
I have to confess I'm not completely sure what the answer to the basic question is. I'm not at all comfortable endorsing violence as a political tactic, particularly since it not only claims innocent victims, it also tends to be less effective than nonviolent protest over the long run. But there's no question that Monday's rioting instantly made Baltimore and Freddie Gray a national issue.
On the other hand, it's entirely possible that if the nonviolent protests had simply continued and grown, there would still have been a prosecution. Though I know very little about Mosby, she doesn't seem like she's being forced into this against her will. One important question is how the rest of the Baltimore officials who are also under a microscope respond. What kind of police reforms are they going to initiate, and how effective will they be? We probably won't know the answers until long after the national media's attention has shifted elsewhere.
There's also the question of whether the events in Baltimore, including this prosecution, have any impact on what happens in police departments around the country, with regard to both police abuse and accountability for it. Suspects die in police custody all the time, after all, and prosecutions are pretty rare. Changing both of those things will take a long time, but the next time a suspect dies, the people in the community where it happened may now be more likely to take the streets, and the prosecutors are going to be asked why they aren't issuing an indictment like the prosecutor in Baltimore did.
Democrats unveiled their latest proposal to increase the minimum wage yesterday, and it shows not just how quickly the party's consensus has moved on this issue, but what activists can accomplish by changing the terms of debate. We don't know exactly when a bill to raise the minimum wage will pass Congress and be signed by the president, but it will happen eventually. When it does, lots of Republicans are going to vote for it, for the same reason they have in the past: because the political risks of voting no are too high. The biggest question may be whether the next increase is the one that finally eliminates the minimum wage as a political issue.
The minimum wage has been at $7.25 since 2009, the last step in a series of increases set by the Fair Minimum Wage Act of 2007. That bill was signed by President Bush, and got the support not only of every Democrat in Congress, but also of 82 Republicans in the House and 45 in the Senate. Republicans may be standing in the way of an increase now, but eventually they'll let it through, if for no other reason than the desire to stop the pummeling Democrats inflict on them over the issue.
But look how the Democratic position has changed. In his State of the Union address in 2013, President Obama proposed raising the minimum wage to $9 an hour. A year later, he proposed raising it to $10.10. His administration has now endorsed a $12 minimum; Secretary of Labor Tom Perez appeared at yesterday's press conference with congressional Democrats to give the administration's support for this new bill sponsored by Senator Patty Murray and Representative Bobby Scott.
Even more important may be the fact that indexing the minimum wage—having it rise automatically with the cost of living—has now also become a central Democratic demand. The Murray-Scott bill would index it not to inflation but to median wages (Danny Vinik argues that that isn't a good idea), but the point is that no Democratic proposal from now on is going to exclude indexing.
It seems pretty clear that the activist movement around a $15 minimum wage has pulled the consensus among Democratic politicians toward a higher demand. Which isn't surprising—it's called the anchoring effect, and it's something both sides use in negotiations over money all the time. I say I'll give you $20 for your old lawnmower, knowing that I'll be willing to give you more for it, while you say you want $100 for it, knowing you'll be willing to take less. We're each hoping that our initial offer will set a context that changes how the eventual number is perceived. It's why stores put labels that read, "Regular price $99—reduced to $49!" on items. The $99 is purely fictional; its only purpose is to make $49 seem like a great deal.
The discussion of a $15 minimum wage made $10.10 seem too modest to those who want to see the wage increased, so they've now settled on $12 (which would be phased in between now and 2020). So why should Republicans embrace the latest proposal or something like it? They may like to see a lower increase, and they might be able to negotiate one—perhaps to $10.10. But they really ought to embrace indexing, for the simple reason that it means we aren't likely to debate the federal minimum wage much once it's in effect. This issue is absolutely brutal for them—minimum wage increases are regularly supported by over 70 percent of the public, and the discussion reinforces the one thing above all others that Republicans wish people wouldn't believe about them, that they only care about the interests of the wealthy.
So if you actually passed a law that increased the minimum wage and indexed it to inflation, it would keep rising slowly to keep up with the cost of living, and there wouldn't be much reason to have arguments about it. Everyone would get something they want.
Ask a Republican about the elaborate conspiracy theories that are so popular with many on the far right, and she's likely to respond that, sure, those people are there, but liberals have their wackos, too. But there is a difference, in not just how far to the center of Republican power the wackos get (consider how many Republican members of Congress still aren't sure that Barack Obama was born in the United States), but in the way the wackos are treated by the rest of the party. Which brings us to Texas:
Gov. Greg Abbott ordered the Texas Guard to monitor federal military exercises in Texas after some citizens have lit up the Internet saying the maneuvers are actually the prelude to martial law.
The operation causing rampant suspicions is a new kind of exercise involving elite teams such as the SEALs and Green Berets from four military branches training over several states from July 15 to Sept. 15
Called Jade Helm 15, the exercise is one of the largest training operations done by the military in response to what it calls the evolving nature of warfare. About 1,200 special operations personnel will be involved and move covertly among the public. They will use military equipment to travel between seven Southwestern states from Texas to California.
On Monday, command spokesman Lt. Col. Mark Lastoria attended a Bastrop County Commissioners Court meeting to answer community questions and was met with hostile fire. Lastoria, in response to some of the questions from the 150 who attended, sought to dispel fears that foreign fighters from the Islamic State were being brought in or that Texans’ guns would be confiscated, according to a report in the Austin American-Statesman.
So in response to the fact that some of Texas's dumbest citizens emerged from their doomsday prepper shelters long enough to harangue a colonel about their belief that martial law is coming to their state, Governor Abbott issued an order to the National Guard to monitor the movements of the U.S. military just to make sure they aren't herding citizens into re-education camps or dropping Islamic State infiltrators into Galveston. I guess we're safe from that, for the moment anyway.
Every politician encounters nutballs from time to time, and it isn't always easy to figure out how to respond to them. But what's remarkable about this is that we aren't talking about an offhand remark Abbott made, or an occasion in which a constituent went on a rant to him and he nodded along to be friendly instead of saying, "You, sir, are out of your mind." This is an official action the governor is taking. He's mobilizing state resources, at taxpayer expense, because of a bizarre conspiracy theory that has some of Texas's more colorful citizens in its grip.
It's really hard to keep people from believing outlandish things. But you don't have to indulge them. And that's what so many Republicans do with the crazies on their side: They indulge them. Doing so doesn't reassure them or calm them down, it only convinces them that they were right all along and encourages them to believe the next crazy thing they hear.
So please, Republicans, next time you're tempted to say that extremism and fantastical thinking are just as prevalent and meaningful on the left as on the right, remember this.