The fog of Star Wars: Why Rogue One is the most realistic (and perhaps greatest) of them all

Disney's resurrection of the Star Wars franchise that so many of us fell in love with as children, and grew disillusioned with during George Lucas' forgettable prequels, has been astonishing. Last year's "The Force Awakens" was a triumph, and this year's standalone spinoff, "Rogue One" is, in my opinion, maybe the greatest movie in the franchise's history. That's because it's the most realistic in capturing the moral complexity, dark reality and often-conflicting judgments of warfare, something Robert McNamara, the architect of America's regrettable foray into Vietnam, famously referred to as the "fog of war."

One thing that marked the original Star Wars movie in 1977, and probably explained its unprecedented popularity, was the simplicity, and inspirational quality, of the basic battle between good and evil it captured. It was crystal clear to everyone who watched the movie that the Luke Skywalker- and Princess Leia-led rebels were good and noble and morally justified in all their actions to overthrow the oppressive, evil Empire. There was no questioning their tactics or the wisdom of their decisions. It was a refreshing journey into fantasy in the wake of the Vietnam War, a supposedly similar conflict between good and evil that quickly became mired in myriad complications and questions about not only whether the United States was wise but right in its actions. What had seemed to many a noble Cold War enterprise quickly became lost in McNamara's fog of war.

In "Rogue One," which sets the stage for the original "Star Wars: A New Hope", it is again clear that the Empire is fundamentally evil and that a group of brave Rebels is trying to do something about it. But where things change, and where the movie, in the view of the 45-year-old writing this blog rather than the 6-year-old who was mesmerized by the original film, truly achieves new depth and greatness is where it gets into the messy details of fighting that war.

Far from the resolute and decisive, if undermanned, force we see in the original film, the fledgling rebels of "Rogue One" are disjointed, splintered and confused. They spend about as much time arguing among themselves as plotting to overthrow the Empire. Much of the time, they have no idea who are their friends or their enemies. At first, they plot to assassinate the man who holds the key to destroying the vaunted Death Star, and who actually wants to help them. One radical rebel leader decides to torture a defector from the Empire who has vital information to share. When things start to fall apart, they seem on the verge of throwing in the towel and running for the stars, until the daughter of the man they wanted to assassinate, and inadvertently kill anyway, comes up with a better idea that they initially reject, forcing her and her newfound friends to go "rogue." It's fitting that one of the few characters who seems to clearly see through the fog is a blind monk-like figure who combines martial arts skills and his devotion to The Force to devastating effect.

It's a movie that captures how wars are typically fought: messy, confusing, beset by morally questionable decisions, in which a lot of innocent people die, either collaterally or intentionally, no matter which side you're on. And yes, as in the case of World War II, sometimes they are necessary to preserve freedom and liberty, but that doesn't eliminate the moral complications of firebombing civilian populations in Tokyo or Dresden, dropping an atomic bomb or two, or partnering with a ruthless Russian murderer (not Putin but Stalin) and trying to humanize him with the moniker "Uncle Joe."

For those of us Star Wars nerds, the paradox of Star Wars has always been clear. While these are movies about wars in space, their point is never to glorify war or the forces that lead to such death and destruction (as Yoda put it so well, "Wars not make one great.") The mystical Force that binds the galaxy together is fundamentally a force for peace. But when it's manipulated by evil, then violence, death and destruction ensue. That has always been the overarching message.

The brilliance of "Rogue One" is that it adds a totally new dimension to that message. The original trilogy was more about the internal struggles of the individual characters than it was about the galactic civil war. The prequels tried to wrap themselves in political intrigue but got lost in bureaucratic minutiae (and terrible storytelling). "The Force Awakens" brilliantly pushed the original family drama forward in a whole new direction but ultimately left us with more questions than answers.

"Rogue One" is the first Star Wars movie that is truly a war movie. It's about noble intentions compromised by misguided decisions; moral righteousness colliding with military expediency; determination clouded by confusion; and heroism that ultimately leads to self-sacrifice and newfound hope. And it teaches us in a way that none of the other seven movies ever did that, no matter what the galaxy, war is a terrible, terrible thing.

Bill King: The childhood friend I never knew

At long last, legendary Bay Area sports radio announcer Bill King received his due earlier this month--induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame. King's voice is associated with some of the most memorable moments in Bay Area sports history -- football, baseball and basketball -- and for me, his voice will always be associated with some of my most vivid childhood memories.

As Vin Scully wrapped up his 67-year broadcasting career with the Dodgers this year, many reflected about growing up listing to Scully's voice over their transistor radios, sometimes sneaking them under the covers on a school night.

For me, Bill King was Vin Scully, only times three. I grew up listening to him call Raiders, Warriors and A's games, and all these years later, his silky, conversational and dramatic voice still echoes through my childhood memories.

I recall discovering the Raiders as a 6-year-old hearing King's voice call a 1977 game (I think it was against the Jets) in the car on a family day trip. I remember sitting on a boat, I think it was 1978, on Lake Berryessa on a warm September day as he described an early season Raiders game.

I remember getting a pair of bulky radio headphones (a staple of the 1980s) as a Christmas present one year, and breaking them in listening to King's voice bring a Warriors game into my living room. I remember my uncle turning down the volume on the television during a 1980s Raiders game so that we could listen to King's voice instead over the radio.

I remember turning on one of those Warriors television simulcasts and seeing his handlebar mustache, silver beard and long, skinny microphone come across my television screen from courtside in Seattle. You just knew that those dreadful early '80s Warriors were destined to go down to defeat by 25 points to the Super Sonics, but with King's voice bringing every moment to life, I would stick with the game to the end.

I remember sitting on the deck of my backyard on a Saturday afternoon, or on a weekday afternoon, listing to King set the stage for another A's game. These A's were similarly dreadful (I recall one painful game where talented but wild pitcher Tim Conroy walked one batter after another), but with Bill King at the mic, it never mattered. Another long-forgotten pitcher, Mike Warren, had thrown a no-hitter at the end of the 1983 season and was getting ready to make his first start of the 1984 season. King, setting the drama for what would be another forgettable game and season, noted that Warren was trying to become the first pitcher to throw consecutive no-hitters to end one season and begin another, or some such thing. That suspense ended a couple batters into the game, but again, it didn't matter.

Of course, King also called some of the most memorable moments in Bay Area sports history: George Blanda's miraculous Raiders comebacks ("George Blanda has just been elected King of the World!"), the Raiders' 1976 Super Bowl victor over the Vikings (a hallmark of NFL Films' Super Bowl Memories, "Old Man Willie is going to go all the way!"); the incredible Holy Roller game in 1978 ("Nothing in the world is real anymore"!); and Rickey Henderson's stolen base records.

Sadly, for me, I never got a chance to listen to King's most memorable calls live. I was either too young or watching the relevant game on TV. For me, it's the forgettable ones that live on in my child's mind -- a reprieve from the trials and tribulations of adolescence, when a bad day at school or at home could be salvaged by the company of King's comforting voice on the radio, no matter what the outcome.

Another Bill King moment surely only I can remember came early in the 1984 A's season. It was destined to be another losing season for the green and gold until the likes of Canseco, McGwire, Stew, Eck and Co. burst onto the scene a few years later. But the A's had signed seemingly washed-up slugger Dave Kingman early in the season, and Kong, as he was called, went on an early season home run tear that at least made the A's somewhat interesting.

We were on vacation at Clear Lake, sitting on our boat listening to Bill call a weekday afternoon game against a team I can't remember. I just remember him describing Kingman strolling to the plate with the bases loaded in the first inning, and cautioning us listeners that it was too much to expect Kong to go deep every time such a situation arose. Sure enough, Kingman proceeded to launch a grand slam a pitch or two later, leaving King beside himself. "Holy Toledo!" he roared through the radio with his signature refrain. "What a man!" As we splashed in the warm waters of the lake, my cousin and I took turns mimicking the call.

Years later, I found myself by chance in the press elevator with King and a few others at the Coliseum before an A's game. I looked upon the man I had spent so many afternoons and evenings with growing up, and simply smiled, unable to speak a word. I never had felt so close to someone with whom I had never spoken a word.

"What a man!" Yes, indeed. But it was you who were the man, Bill King, and now you're finally going where you deserve.

Remembering Pearl Harbor and the lessons that live on

For anyone who has ever visited the USS Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor, one of the most powerful sights is the steady drips of oil that continue to float to the surface from the sunken battleship. I first visited the memorial in 1997, and when I returned to it with my family this past summer, the thing I anticipated most was whether I would again see those tiny oil sheens drift to the surface. Sure enough, I did.

No one knows for certain when the final drip of oil will leave the Arizona. The drips are called by some the Arizona's "black tears," and legend has it that they will finally stop when the final survivor of the Arizona passes away and joins his sunken fellow sailors in the afterlife.

Drips of oil floating to the surface from the USS Arizona in August 2016

In addition to being a powerful reminder of what happened on the date of infamy 75 years ago today, I see those drips of oil as a living lesson for today's generation of Americans about our people's resilience in the face of terrible tragedy and adversity and capacity to overcome any challenge.

For many, the election campaign and results this year have brought on a sense of dread and despair about the state of affairs in America and what the future holds. While much of that angst is understandable and justified, it's also important to remember that it doesn't come close to what America faced in the aftermath of Dec. 7, 1941.

It's easy in retrospect to view America's triumph in World War II as inevitable, but that outcome seemed anything but inevitable after Pearl Harbor. America was a much weaker nation in 1941, still struggling to emerge from the blows of the Great Depression. Its military paled in comparison to the great European nations, and its Pacific naval fleet was in shreds after the disaster at Pearl Harbor. Hitler continued control much of the European continent. Japan's naval superiority meant it would spend months conquering the Pacific unimpeded, bringing it nearly to the shores of Australia.

In the months that followed Pearl Harbor, things would only get worse. There would be the Bataan Death March and defeats throughout the Pacific. It would be nearly a year before America could muster the strength to directly confront Hitler, and years before it would be able to launch the D-Day invasion that would ultimately lead to final victory in Europe. The great victory at Midway in 1942 would be the turning point in the Pacific, but three years of terrible island-hopping battles still lay ahead.

Whether are not you think that America is great today, it certainly did not look great in any way, shape or form on Dec. 7, 1941. But from the ashes of that tragedy arose the seeds of the "Greatest Generation" that saved the world from fascism and turned America into a superpower.

Of course, the lessons from World War II weren't all great. The internment of the Japanese-Americans was an injustice that continues to stain our nation to this day. My own relatives of Italian ancestry were also subjected to unjust discrimination, being forced to move from Alameda because of the Navy base there and fears of sabotage. And, of course, the unity of purpose that the Pearl Harbor attack created did not extend to African-Americans, who continued to be discriminated against and were victimized in the Port Chicago munitions disaster.

In the end, America would emerge from World War II a much greater nation than it was before but one nevertheless still flawed and beset by challenges and injustices. That is the story of our existence, a continual march toward a perfection that is always elusive. But as we look toward the challenges of today and decide whether to meet them with optimism or pessimism, let us also remember where we stood on Dec. 7, 1941 and how we met the grief and despair that followed Pearl Harbor.

America was great on Dec. 7, 1941. We just didn't know it yet.

Why are people praising Fidel Castro?

Why are so many world leaders, including some in our own country, praising Fidel Castro's murderous reign over his country and offering condolences to the Cuban people on his death? The man was an evil monster who destroyed countless lives. End of story.

I usually refrain from black and white assessments of issues or people, but there are cases where there is truly no gray. Fidel Castro is one of those cases.

Cuban refugees during the Mariel boat lift 

Of course, a lot of the political expressions about Castro's death can be chalked up to typical diplomacy and respect for foreign heads of state. But would North Korea's Kim Jung-on be getting the same degree of respect if he was the one who just died? Or even Vladimir Putin?

It's unfortunate how the end of the Cold War and fall of communism has rehabilitated figures like Castro over the years and turned them into respectable statesmen. To hear some of the things spoken about him yesterday, you can't help but wonder why thousands of Cubans fled the utopian island paradise he created for the despair of the United States? Was that whole Mariel boat lift thing a 1980s example of fake news?

Maybe it had something to do with losing every basic freedom humans are entitled to, from the freedom to speak your mind, to worship as you choose, to the freedom to own your own property and build your own life? Maybe it had something to do with political opponents being tortured and killed? Maybe it had something to do with a lack of food and basic necessities? Or losing everything you worked your life to build?

That was the fate of my wife's family, who lost their land, home and hope for the future when Castro rose to power. I've heard my mother-in-law break into tears many times over the years recounting all she and her family lost. She left behind a husband to find freedom for herself and her young son. My wife's father was a successful university professor who also lost everything, including nearly his life, in escaping to freedom. He and my mother-in-law found a new life here, and started a new family, but that never took away the pain of all they lost.

It's ironic that my wife and my children owe their lives, and I owe my marriage, to the fact Castro forced so many Cubans to flee to the United States in search of freedom and liberty. It's a testament to the greatness of America that so many Cuban refugees were able to build new lives for themselves here, and to the fact immigrants, particularly those fleeing persecution, are historically such an important part of our national fabric. Which is all the more reason to acknowledge who Castro really was and the suffering he caused for so many.

Many people have been expressing fears about what Donald Trump's election will mean for our way of life. Well, imagine if Trump immediately seized all  your possessions, threw you in jail, or worse, for criticizing him, and shut down every church, mosque and synagogue in the nation? What if he denied you the right to vote and the right to leave this country for a new home. Imagine if he then plunged our nation to the brink of nuclear war? That's basically what Fidel Castro did to the people of Cuba. So for those who want to compare Trump to Hitler, how about starting 90 miles off the Florida coast instead?

The dictator Castro overthrew in seizing power was also an evil murderer. But that doesn't justify what Castro did to the people of Cuba. He had an opportunity to rid the nation of corruption and oppression and institute a true democracy that respected the rights of all Cuban people. Instead, he replaced one form of oppression with another that was even more evil and sinister in that it stripped the entire population of basic human rights. 

A revisionist history has taken hold about people like Castro and communism. Communism has been sanitized into just another acceptable, though flawed, political system. It's fair to point out that right-wing, fascist dictatorships that the United States supported during the Cold War were also evil and equally disdainful of basic human rights and freedoms. Our actions in supporting those regimes were shameful.

But that doesn't change the basic truth that communism was, and is, a fundamentally evil system of placing the state in control of the individual, and disregarding the value of human life. For nearly a half century, he was one of the world's prime practitioners of that evil. Now that he's gone, there's no reason to sugarcoat who he was and what he did to his people; to do so is an insult to all who lost their lives.

And until Trump murders someone for expressing a differing political view, let's keep the Hitler comparisons where they belong. 

America's mom: The legacy of Florence Henderson, Carol Brady and the Brady Bunch

The news that Florence Henderson, aka Carol Brady, had died certainly cast a cloud over Black Friday for me and millions of other Gen Xers who grew up bingeing on Brady Bunch reruns after school. As a fellow Gen Xer aptly put it in a Facebook message to me Friday, she was "America's mom."

Of course, for many, she was the archetypical stay-at-home TV mom, dressed to the nines even as she hovered over apple pies in the kitchen, who was to quickly to fall out of favor both in pop culture and real life. The late '70s and '80s would usher in the reality of the two-income household and the idea that women could, and should, be able to pursue careers and motherhood simultaneously.

But the Carol Brady character was never quite as simple and traditional as she appeared to those who dismissed the show as another sugary, simplistic and unrealistic view of the American family (which it often was). But if you dug a little deeper (which I was able to do by the fact I probably watched every episode at least 10 times throughout my childhood), you saw a character who was more complex, nuanced and powerful than the June Cleavers and Harriet Nelsons who preceded her.

Yes, Carol Brady at times seemed all too content in her role as a stay-at-home mom, always putting the interests of her children and husband first and never exhibiting any angst about spending each day at home in the company of the Brady's full-time, live-in maid (whose very presence would have seemed a strong argument for why Carol Brady could have and should have pursued her own aspirations outside the Brady home).

Carol Brady may have been a mom and wife first and foremost, but those roles went far beyond the kitchen. Carol Brady was a civic activist who would lead the fight to save a cherished local park, even if it cost her husband's architectural firm business. She was an outspoken parent advocate who was always immersed in one PTA activity or another, whether it was raising money for an important cause or working to stamp out teen smoking. And she was the ideal model of the loving, firm, thoughtful parent, the one who would take her stepson's word for it when he said the pack of cigarettes that dropped out of his pocket weren't his own; the one who showed no qualms about having her daughter bounced from the lead role in the school play when the part clearly went to  her head; and the one who would confront the mom of the school bully to try to settle things like women ("Women are different, we'll just sit calmly and work everything out.").

One scene in the "Fistful of Reasons" episode that confronted bullying perfectly illustrated that Carol Brady was far from the stereotypical doting housewife. When she confronts Buddy Hinton's mother and learns that she goes along with whatever her husband says, Carol looks on in stunned disbelief.

In some ways, Carol Brady was ahead of her time, even if  her role wasn't. When it came to running the Brady household and laying down the law, she was an equal partner with her husband, who often seemed to escape to the sanctuary of his den or a Saturday golf game while Mrs. Brady took the lead in putting out the family fires. She may have even have had the foresight in predicting the football concussion crisis, by her outspoken opposition to letting Greg Brady play high school football.

And she was not shy about taking on the stereotypical gender roles that her own character represented, encouraging her daughter to speak her mind on feminism and seek to join Greg's Boy Scout troop.  In one of the only episodes that betrayed a sense of tension and conflict between Mike and Carol, she came out forcefully in favor of giving her daughters equal access to the boys' backyard clubhouse.

That might not have been quite up there with fighting for equal pay and paid time off, but amidst the burgeoning cultural changes of the late 1960s and early 1970s, it was a start. In the years that followed the Brady Bunch, Carol Brady would become a rope in a cultural tug of war between those who celebrated and cherished the traditional role of the stay-at-home mom and those who felt the Carol Bradys of the world had much more to offer (and, indeed, you easily could have seen Carol Brady morphing into a Mary Tyler Moore later in the '70s). But at the end of the day, there was one fact about her on which all could agree, and which explained why kids like myself couldn't get enough of the Brady Bunch, no matter how simple or silly the plot lines.
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She was one awesome mom.

About a year ago, I started recording Brady Bunch reruns to share with my own children. We spent weeks watching every episode together, mostly to enjoy a few laughs about the "groovy" fashions of the 1970s and life in the pre-Internet  and smart  phone era where six children were left to fight over one landline. Plus, they could get a chuckle or two from the fact that their nerdy dad could recite pretty much every line before it was spoken.

But Carol Brady's motherly love had an impact even on their generation. After sitting through every episode with me, my youngest daughter wrote the following email to Florence Henderson praising her work as Carol Brady.

Hi Florence Henderson, I just wanted to say that I am a huge fan of you, especially in the Brady Bunch! You have very great acting! You are amazing,fantastic,wonderful,outstanding,incredible,and remarkable! You were very entertaining and funny! You have an awesome sense of humor and you are down to earth! Brady Bunch is one of my favorite TV shows and you being in it makes it far more interesting and fascinating, also your acting makes it way more of an entertaining story! You are one of my favorite actresses and I just wanted to say I am glad you were in The Brady Bunch!    You are the best!!!!   Thank you so much for your entertainment!



From,

Leia L. (A HUGE fan!) 

What America should be thankful for in 2016

This Thanksgiving arrives in the wake of an election that featured division over unity, hate over tolerance, lies over the truth and, perhaps most disturbing, a sense of doom and gloom over hope.

With all that in mind, I've put together a list of things I'm thankful for in 2016, and for which I think all American can express gratitude, regardless of race, creed or social status. But being grateful doesn't mean we overlook the injustices of our society or the pain and despair many people feel; rather it should serve as an impetus to preserve all that is good about America and continue to work on the never-ending project of creating a more just, fair and loving union.

So here is my list, and Happy Thanksgiving!:

I'm thankful for all who have worked to create social progress over the years

Yes, racial injustice continues to exist in our country, as does crime, income inequality and other societal evils. But let's never lose sight of how far we've come thanks to the work of activists like Martin Luther King, Jr., Susan B. Anthony and Cesar Chavez, as well as scientists, doctors and other forces of change. One hundred years ago, our constitution still did not grant women the right to vote, let along have any chance of  becoming president. Today, more women vote than men, and a woman won the popular vote for president. That is progress. A half century ago, racial segregation dominated the South and other parts of the nation  and African-Americans were denied basic rights. Today, legalized segregation is a thing of the past and we are about to mark the completion of the second term of the first African-American president in history. That is progress. A quarter century ago, AIDS was a health care epidemic threatening countless lives; today it is largely contained. That is progress. I read just this morning that the average lifespan of children born with Down syndrome has risen from only 25 thirty years ago to 60 or older today. That is progress.

I'm thankful for all who sacrificed their lives in the name of a free society 

Cemeteries here and abroad are filled with the bodies of men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice to rid the scourge of slavery from our continent and the scourge of fascism from Europe, as well as those who fought to contain communism and naked aggression. The world we live in today is a testament to their sacrifices, and the fact it is not perfect, should inspire us to continue to strive for that reality. Every couple months, I have the honor of having lunch with my friend Rico Cinquini, who survived four hellish battles with the Marines in World War II and is among the most kind, gentle, strong souls I have ever met. He continually teaches me to value family and life's blessings, something so many of his fellow Marines were denied on remote Pacific islands where they gave their lives for freedom. 

On the Stanislaus River with my dog Theodore, Nov. 21, 2016

I'm thankful the sounds of a river and the power of nature

I just spent two days with my family in a cabin on the banks of the Stanislaus River in a tiny Sierra town called Strawberry. There isn't much to do this time of year but listen to the sounds of water flowing and birds chirping. Which is exactly what I need from time to time. Over the years, I've become grateful for the natural beauty of our nation, and the power of that beauty to calm our minds, purify our souls and bring us simple joy. I'm grateful that I live in the city of Martinez, where I can see the smoke stacks of an oil refinery from my driveway but escape a few miles away to a mountain once frequented by John Muir. I can hike the same trails he did and ponder his words along the way: Keep close to Nature's heart... and break clear away, once in a while, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.

I'm thankful for the legacy of our great presidents

Amid the uncertainty and controversy of the presidential election, let us not forget that we've had racist presidents in the past, corrupt presidents, incompetent presidents and war-mongering presidents. But their legacies have been fleeting, while that of our great presidents have stood the test of time, because the principles of our democracy are stronger than any one individual. Theodore Roosevelt standing up to the power of corporations and monopolies and protecting our natural resources; Franklin Roosevelt establishing a social safety net and establishing government as a force for good in society; John Kennedy boldly proclaiming that our nation would never been free until all its people were free, helping to set in motion the events that destroyed legalized segregation. And Abraham Lincoln declaring on a Pennsylvania battlefield 153  years ago this month, in a speech that he said would be "little remembered," that "government of the people, by the people and for the people shall not perish from the earth." Those words remain more powerful than any single election, and it is up to all of us to ensure that they stand the test of time, so that future generations can find the same gratitude in this national holiday of ours that we do in 2016.

Why did Catholics go for Trump? A Catholic wants to know

When it comes to political ambivalence, no religious group can touch us Catholics. Trying to come to terms with how to vote in any given presidential election can be an excruciating experience worthy of the confessional.

Jews overwhelmingly tend to vote for Democrats; evangelical Christians are even more fervent in their loyalty to Republicans. African-American protestants are liberal, white protestants conservative.

Catholics? We seem to blow with the wind, and in this election we helped blow Donald Trump to victory (though not this one).

The exit polls showed that Catholics favored Trump 52-45 percent on Nov. 8. It's likely that advantage played a pivotal role in putting him over the top in the Catholic-heavy Rust Belt states that tipped the election.

But why? Catholics favored Barack Obama in both 2008 (54-45) and 2012 (50-48). They also went for Bill Clinton in 1992 and 1996 and Al Gore in 2000. The only other time in the past quarter century the Catholic vote went for a Republican was in 2004, when Catholics favored George Bush over the man who was trying to become only the second Catholic president in U.S. history, John Kerry.

At least we know now that Catholics aren't inherently biased against Catholic presidential candidates.

So why is it that our vote is consistently so up for grabs? As a former altar boy who has heard more than a few politically tinged sermons over the years, I have a few ideas.

Three types of Catholics

In my experience, there are three distinct types of Catholics: Conservative Catholics who adhere strictly to church doctrine and tradition, and for whom abortion is the defining moral and political issue of our time (hence the conservative priests who argued that John Kerry should be denied communion because of his pro-choice position); progressive Catholics who take a much more holistic and far-reaching view of social-justice issues and tend to focus on ones where they can have a more immediate impact, such as violence, climate change and immigration; and secular, or pragmatic Catholics, for whom faith is but one aspect of their lives but not a defining one, and who are most likely to separate their religious beliefs from their political views.

In any given election, any one of those three groups can play a pivotal role in determining which candidate gets the Catholic vote. My guess is that the secular Catholics were the decisive block in backing Bill Clinton in the 1990s and the progressive Catholics went for Obama in 2008 and 2012.

My hunch is that this year the conservative Catholics tipped the balance, and I think it may have had a lot to do with the third presidential debate. I think the conservative block is the minority among the three but perhaps the most politically passionate and certainly most likely to base their vote on the singular issue of abortion.

Trump appealed directly to them by taking on abortion head-on in the third debate, a contrast from mainstream Republicans have who have largely tried to steer clear of the topic in recent years even as Democrats have become more absolute in their pro-choice positions. When Trump said outright in the third debate that he would nominate pro-life justices to the Supreme Court and condemned in graphic (if inaccurate) terms late-stage abortions, I wonder if that was the tipping point for older, socially conservative Catholic voters in the Rust Belt who believe firmly that abortion is tantamount to murder.

Hillary Clinton's response was to toe the traditional Democratic line, which has become increasingly inflexible over the years. Abortion, for them, is in no way a moral issue, it is entirely a personal one. Whereas her husband once declared his belief that abortion should be safe, legal and rare, Hillary Clinton and the rest of the Democratic Party long  ago dropped the "rare" part of that equation.

The problem is that for many other Americans, abortion is an issue that generates a degree of ambivalence and internal conflict that neither political party seems willing to acknowledge or address. I've heard many talks about abortion in church over the years, though not nearly as many as I once did because of the progressive nature of my current parish, but the most powerful one came a few years ago from a priest who decried the positions of both the left and the right on the issue and blamed both for failing to address it in practical terms: the pro-life movement that seems to believe the only answer is repealing Roe. V. Wade and fails to recognize how conservative economic policies actually encourage abortion and that coercion is not the only, or best, answer; and the pro-choice movement whose entire focus is preserving Roe. V. Wade while ignoring the broader moral implications of abortion, or any effort to focus on ways to help women in this difficult situation to choose life. Progressive Catholics believe abortion is a sin but one best addressed through compassion rather than coercion.

Because neither party is interested in deviating from its rigid ideological positions, it is the minority of voters on the extremes who can tip a close election in one direction or the other. When enough voters feel that Roe V. Wade is at real risk, pro-choice voters are most likely to turn out in big numbers for the Democrat. But when pro-life voters feel they have a champion, they are the ones energized to turn out. That may be what happened in 2016.

The unfortunate thing about the politics of abortion is there's never any real hope to find common ground on a core social and moral issue that continues to divide America and cause anguish for those most directly affected.

Welcome to the club: A look back at the presidential (popular vote) losers

Barring something unforeseen, Donald Trump on Jan. 20 will become the fifth person in history to become president of the United States after losing the popular vote. Ever wonder what became of the three before George W. Bush? Probably not, but here's a little history lesson. It doesn't bode well for his chances for success.

First, the upshot is that none of Trump's four predecessors in losing the popular vote can be considered presidential successes by any objective historical evaluation. Their presidencies were largely failures or undistinguished, and it had a lot to do with the lack of popular support from the cloud that hung over their elections. Bush was the only one to win a second term, though barely, and as Dana Carvey observed in a skit a few years pack in which he played W.'s father, "that second term of was real victory lap." Nothing like ending eight years in the White House with an approval rating under 30%.


The other three were John Quincy Adams, Rutherford B. Hayes and Benjamin Harrison, not exactly fellows who top high school history teachers' lesson plans. Adams and Hayes actually had fewer electoral votes than their opponents as well as popular votes but were given the presidency through bargains (which many deemed "corrupt") hashed out in Congress by political bigwigs. An interesting side note is that three of the four presidential losers were related to past presidents (John Quincy was the son of John Adams, Harrison was the grandson of William Henry Harrison and W. of course was the son of H.W.).

The "Corrupt Bargain"

First was John Quincy Adams, the beneficiary of the "corrupt bargain" that gave him the presidency over Andrew Jackson, who took it away from him four years later. John Quincy's four years in the White House were so dour and unsuccessful that he observed after leaving the White House, "I have no plausible motive for wishing to live." As I observed in yesterday's post, a president has little power without the support of the people, and this was certainly the case with Adams. More so than any of the other three presidential losers, the public had overwhelmingly supported his opponent, and Congress largely ignored Adams' proposals as he kept the White House warm for Jackson.

End of Reconstruction

Rutherford B. Hayes, by all accounts, was a man of great character and integrity, but the bargain that sent him to the presidency in 1877 had devastating consequences for the country, specifically African-Americans. After losing the popular vote to Samuel Tilden and trailing in the Electoral College 203-166, Hayes' supporters challenged the results by claiming black voters in the South had been prevented from voting (sound familiar?). Congress appointed a special Electoral Commission to settle the most controversial presidential election in American history, and a deal was reached to give Hayes the presidency in return for removing federal troops from the South that had been placed there during Reconstruction to preserve the rights of African-Americans. With federal intervention gone, white supremacists in the South quickly disenfranchised blacks and put in motion nearly 100 years of segregationist laws that would only end with the Civil Rights Movement. Like John Quincy Adams, the cloud that hung over Hayes' election paralyzed his presidency, and Congress largely ignored him. He wasn't even nominated by his own party for a second term.

The Trouble with Tariffs

Benjamin Harrison provides perhaps the most interesting parallel to Trump in that both men espoused strong anti-open trade and anti-immigration policies (Harrison wanted to restrict Chinese immigration). Along with Bush (and now Trump), he lost the popular vote but won a majority of electoral votes without requiring any political shenanigans to put him in the White House. Without the cloud of a "corrupt bargain" hanging over him, he was able to take office in 1889 unencumbered by any major controversy. As Trump seems poised to do, he pushed through a protectionist policy based on high tariffs. His popularity nosedived when the tariffs led to higher prices that primarily burdened low-wage earners and farmers, and his Republican Party was shellacked in the mid-term elections, going from a 173-156 majority to a 235-88 minority (the Democrats can only dream of being that fortunate in two years). Unlike Hayes, he managed to get renominated to a second term but lost to Grover Cleveland, the man he beat (in the Electoral College at least) four years earlier.

Unlike Trump, the previous four popular vote losers had significant political experience before arriving in the White House, but it seemed to do them little good. The fact they were unable to win over a plurality of voters likely betrayed a fundamental flaw in their political acumen or appeal to the public and/or cost them the public support to carry out their agenda. There is little reason to believe Trump will be any different, though it's probably safe to assume he won't leave the White House in four years, as Adams did, despairing about the desirability of death. More likely, he'll retreat to Trump Tower to begin planning the most beautiful presidential library ever constructed, before it's forced to file for bankruptcy.

How powerful is the most powerful person in the world? As powerful as we make him

One of the sentiments I've heard most often in the days following the election is that people feel largely powerless to stop Donald Trump and the Republican Party from carrying out their vision (repealing Obamacare, building walls, deporting millions of immigrants, pulling out of climate deals, blocking common-sense gun regulations).
Don't be so sure.
It's easy to forget how powerless the most powerful man in the world can quickly become when he lacks public support and approval for his agenda. It's one of the brilliant aspects of the checks-and-balances systems the forefathers enshrined in our Constitution.

George W. Bush's approval ratings as president

Be careful what you wish for

A little history. The success of presidents whose party controls Congress in carrying out their agenda has been largely checkered, particularly in modern times. Jimmy Carter's party controlled both houses of Congress for all four years of his presidency, and he had among the worst relationships with Congress of any modern president, accomplishing little. Bill Clinton's party controlled Congress the first two years of his presidency, and his (and Hillary's) health care plan went up in smoke, before the Republican Revolution of 1994 that left him to argue he was still relevant (remember "the Constitution makes me relevant"). George W. Bush famously said after the 2004 election that he was going to use the "political capital" from his re-election to push the privatization of Social Security through a Republican-controlled Congress. It went nowhere, and two years later the Democrats seized control of both houses, laying the foundation for Barack Obama's rise two years after that. Even Obama nearly failed to pass the Affordable Care Act, succeeding by only the slimmest of margins when he lost his filibuster-proof Senate, before his lukewarm approval numbers cost the Democrats the House in 2010 and the Senate in 2014..

Power from the people

Why have so many presidents failed when they seemingly had free rein to push their legislative program through a friendly Congress? It all comes down to popularity and approval ratings. Carter, Clinton, Bush and even Obama all suffered from lackluster approval ratings when their party controlled Congress, and that cost them the "capital" they needed to deliver on their plans. Every member of Congress is thinking about the next election, or that of their successor. When the president is popular with the American people, regardless of party, they are likely to go along with large parts of his agenda (think Ronald Reagan's tax cuts). When he is not, regardless of party, they are likely to run for the hills.
What Donald Trump is, or is not, able to do over the next four years will largely depend on his popularity with you and me. Given where he stands now, he has Mt. Everest to climb.

How a "Checkers" speech could have saved Clinton

In my previous post, I observed that one of Clinton's fatal mistakes in her campaign was her decision to allow herself to be "Swiftboated" by Trump and and his surrogates, to basically allow them to label her a corrupt, lying crook, without forcefully pushing back against the charges. This created a narrative in the minds of many voters that as dangerous and distasteful as Trump was, Clinton was just as bad.

Lessons from Richard Nixon

Historically speaking, Clinton could have learned a lot from Richard Nixon.
No, not the corrupt Nixon of Watergate infamy, but the then-unknown junior senator of 1952 who saved his political career with the brilliant "Checkers" speech on national television. Picked as Dwight Eisenhower's running mate because of his Cold War, anti-communist activism, Nixon was in danger of being jettisoned from the ticket when questions arose that he was profiting from a political slush fund. Long before his "I'm not a crook" press conference as president 20 years later, a deliberate, poised Nixon went on national television to rebut the charges one by one, culminating the speech with the famous reference to the puppy "Checkers" that had been given to his daughters as a gift, and defiantly saying it would not be going back.

While the Checkers reference became ingrained in political history, it was Nixon's words at the beginning of the speech that were most telling -- both in 1952 and 2016.
 "The usual political thing to do when charges are made against you is to either ignore them or to deny them without giving details."

The price of silence

That, in a nutshell, is exactly what Clinton did in 2016. To the incessant chants of "Lock her Up," she said nothing. To the debate claims that she deleted 33,000 emails to foil an FBI probe, she pivoted back to Trump's taxes. To the allegations that she personally profited from the charitable work of the Clinton Foundation, not a word. To the perception that she told Wall Street bankers one thing and blue-collar workers something different, nothing more than a nuanced allusion to the movie "Lincoln." What Hillary Clinton should have done is what Nixon did in 1952. She should have gone on national television and addressed in painstaking detail every charge that had been leveled at her during the campaign. If she had, I think she would be president-elect today. Instead, she banked on the idea that voters would be more offended by Donald Trump than any questions about her character and integrity. Sadly, she was wrong. 

Pundits and politicians often focus on what not to do when studying Richard Nixon. This is one case where studying a bold action that saved his political career could have saved Hillary Clinton's campaign. 

Making sense of the 2016 election: Trump didn't win, Clinton lost

Like many Americans, I've been struggling to come to grips with what happened in our country on Nov. 8, 2016. The election of Donald Trump has, to quote Michelle Obama, stricken many of us to the core, leaving us with feelings of dread and despair for what the future holds.

But before we can properly assess the future, we need to figure out how we got here, and what it says about us as Americans. I've long fancied myself a history buff, and leading up to the election, I thought that everything I knew about history told me that Donald Trump's election was an impossibility. I was wrong. 

The history of our country is filled with strange paradoxes, some of which lead to devastating consequences, some of which are mere blips in our national story. Time will only tell what the election of Trump portends, but first, how did it happen?

While much of the focus has been on the various cultural and social issues at play (another post), I think we need to start with the dynamics of the Trump-Clinton campaign itself. Some have speculated that the result last Tuesday was the manifestation of a country filled with anger and, yes, more than a little hate, a statement that misogyny still persists in modern-day America to the extent that we preferred to elect a bully and a bigot over the first female major party nominee for president.

But at its core, was it also the simple manifestation of a terribly run campaign on the part of Hillary Clinton? Let's start there, because I think that fundamentally explains why Trump somehow ended up with 290 electoral votes on Tuesday night.

It must be said that Clinton made a series of devastating miscalculations during the course of her campaign, fusing the worst elements of the Dukakis-Gore-Kerry campaigns to the point that she snatched defeat from the jaws of victory.

• Like Gore in 2000, she was never able to connect with a vast swath of the American electorate, coming across as an overly scripted, rehearsed elitist, a particularly bad formula in a year in which her opponent appealed directly to the frustrations of working-class whites. She came across as another Dukakis-like technocrat who sold competence over inspiration (remember how well that worked for him). Recent history has not been kind to candidates who lack the ability to rouse intense emotion (whether uplifting or hate-fueled) in the electorate (see Dole, McCain, Kerry, Romney).

• Like Kerry in 2004, she allowed herself to be Swiftboated with lies and half-truths. Although the experts and polls said she won all three debates, I was concerned about her unwillingness to directly address Trump's most over-the-top attacks on her character and record (claims that she destroyed 33,000 emails to thwart an FBI probe, had gotten rich off the Clinton Foundation, was really a shill for Wall Street who told rich bankers one thing and the rest of us something else, even that she had created ISIS!). Her strategy at every turn was to offer a vague denial of it all and then pivot back to Trump's offenses. By doing so, she unwittingly was telling the American people that they should vote for her because she was the lesser of two evils. When confronted with such a choice, Americans will often choose the person they perceive as the agent of change, no matter how distasteful he may be. If she had pushed back forcefully against the attacks on her character, and come clean with the American people on what really happened with the emails, the foundation and the Wall Street speeches, it's likely many Trump voters would have rallied to her side. By largely ignoring the "Lock her Up" chants, she gave them a degree of credibility.
• Finally, she simply spent too much time in the wrong states leading up to Election Day (and never should have taken all those days off the campaign trail to prepare for the debates, which ultimately had a fleeting effect on her poll numbers). She largely ignored the Rust Belt states that ultimately cost her the election (Michigan, Wisconsin and to a lesser degree Pennsylvania), thinking she had them in the bag, and instead traveled endlessly to Florida, North Carolina and Ohio. The Washington Post reported Sunday that Clinton's campaign spent more advertising money  in Omaha, Nebraska, than in Wisconsin and Michigan combined in the weeks leading up to the election! As the Post observed, "strategic decisions can make all the difference in a close election." Clinton's strategy was terrible and spoke of arrogance. In retrospect, it's amazing that she didn't identify Trump's appeal to the working-class whites of these Rust Belt states and do more to try to reassure them that she was more interested in their plight than that of the Wall Street insiders who were paying her those enormous speaking fees. 

In closing, I fear that one of the perils of our society is that we fail to learn from history and often repeat the same mistakes. Unfortunately, that was also the story of Clinton's campaign. As uninspiring as Al Gore was, I thought back in 2000 that he would ultimately prevail thanks to the popularity of his predecessor and the general upward trajectory of the country. I made the same mistake of thinking the same about Clinton this year, though her predecessor wasn't as popular and the economy not as strong as was the case in 2000. Voters have decided in recent elections, though often by slim margins, to choose a risky agent of change over someone perceived as the staid status quo. Like Dukakis in 1988, she tried to make the election about competence rather than inspirational change; like Gore in 2000, she chose careful scripting over spontaneous authenticity; and like Kerry in 2004, she tried to make the election primarily about the dangers of her opponent rather than her own vision. And like all of them, she failed.