Didactic Synapse

In 1998 I acquired a Honda Civic called Sophie. She was a wonderful car, taking me many places: Watsonville, CA; Paducah, KY; Murfreesboro, TN; Hammonton, NJ; Gainesville, FL. We repaired her many times and never thought we would ever need another car. “Man,” I said one time. “I hope we can just keep repairing this car forever.”

Then a deer tried to kill me and we had to give Sophie up to the nice people at the insurance company. Suddenly in need of motorized transportation, I began to explore my options.

“Dear husband,” my wife said during the process, “behold this promotional information from our local electrical company.” She forwarded me an electronic-mail communiqué about a subsidy offer on the cost of an all-new 2016 Nissan LEAF electronic motor carriage.

“I do not think that will suit our many needs, dear wife,” I said. “Thank you for the information, but I would hate to be constrained by the myriad limitations such a transport package requires.” I began looking into used hybrid vehicles.

Then I reconsidered, as my hyperactive brain is wont to do. I realized that 90% of our automotive needs revolve around my daily 20-mile commute to and from the nearby town where I teach. How ever would we take road trips? I wondered. We were under some pressure — the electric company offer was set to expire in less than a week, and the insurance company was eager to snatch up Sophie’s remains. We made lists of pros and cons.

As I pondered, I was invited to join a Facebook group of LEAF owners. I was told I didn’t need to be an actual owner to join, so I did. I inquired about some details, perused the several-years-old Consumer Reports Buying Guides we had lying about, and finally decided to do the environmentally-proper thing.

Imagine never having to buy gas again. Imagine never needing another oil change. Then I realized we didn’t need to buy — in fact, I learned that 75% of those who drive electric vehicles (or EVs, as they are known) lease instead, due to rapidly improving technology. So I arranged for a test drive (it felt exactly like every other car I’ve ever driven), and then said “Okay, let’s do it.” So we did it.

One Story Ends, Another Begins

On my way to swap Sophie for the new car, I realized this was my last chance to play music through Sophie’s system. I put on a mix of very loud hip-hop (Public Enemy, Jedi Mind Tricks, Wu-Tang Clan) and turned the volume all the way to its maximum setting. I expected the speakers to explode or distort horribly, but nothing happened. And by “nothing”, I mean “the awesome music came out real loud”.

At school on the day of the lease signing, I realized I needed to play some appropriate music. Panicked, I checked my iPod Touch to see what I had. I was delighted to find “Electric Avenue” by dub-rock superstar Eddy Grant. “That’s it,” I said to my next-door-teaching neighbor. “His name shall be Eddy.”

I spent two hours at the dealership waiting around and signing paperwork, and then I drove out of the lot blasting “Electric Avenue”. It was a sonically perfect moment. When I got it home, I told my wife about the vehicle’s name. “Niels,” she said. “His name is Niels, like Niels Bohr.”

“No,” I said. “It’s Eddy, like Eddy Grant.” We settled on Niels for a middle name, and then I added “von Yectinbach” because of an awesome name I used once in a short story.

The car came with a standard-looking extension cord for what’s called “trickle charging”: slow electricity from a standard outlet. It can take the car from empty to full in 20 hours. Most days I came home from school, plugged the car in, and it was 85% filled in the morning.

Things got a little tricky when I had to do errands, or we went out in the evening — these things not only consumed more juice, but they cut down on the time allowed for trickle charging. I read stories about people who lost power on the road, and found themselves crawling toward a charger in “Turtle Mode”, a maximum of 5 MPH.

MAX POWER!!

Fortunately, we located and acquired an alternative, in the form of a Clipper Creek HCS-40 EVSE  240V Level 2 EV Charging Station. Similar to the public chargers found in cities across the country, this baby allows us to go from empty to full in a mere four hours. (By the way, anyone looking to have electrical work done in the Madison area should contact Scott Kiel. He is friendly, quick, and professional.)

Even better, there are Level 3 chargers in some spots (including one in Madison and another in Sun Prairie, where I teach) that can fill an EV 80% full in just 30 minutes. (They’re expensive, tho.)

In the future, removable batteries will make life even easier for EV drivers like me. As it is, road trips aren’t really on the horizon. Our car has a range of 115 miles, so I don’t ever plan to take it more than 50 miles from home.

Heat and AC also affect range; as soon as I press the climate control button, the “Distance Remaining” gauge drops 10 miles or so. This isn’t a big deal for me, since I own a good coat and nice gloves. (I never really put Sophie’s heat on more than one notch anyway, except for a few times in the worst bits of February.)

Not Really Mine

The lease aspect has actually given me more pause than the electric part. I’m not used to driving a car that is technically owned by someone else. (This is a profound reflection of my middle-class privilege, I suppose.) I was nervous about applying bumper stickers, because they are sure to have an impact on the residual value. (This is estimated at the start of the lease period, and I pay the difference between the sticker price and the value of the car at the end of three years. Less the electric company subsidy, of course.)

Eventually I threw caution into the wind and bought three cool stickers from Northern Sun, my long-time go-to shop for leftist propaganda. I also found a wicked Public Enemy decal online, and popped it on the rear window. (The cool side effect is the awesome shadow it casts on the back seat.)

Eddy is perfect for us. The back area is a little too small to put Diane’s bike in (as I had hoped to do), but attaching the rack is easy, so it’s no different from Sophie in that respect. With the Level 2 charger I have no more range anxiety whatsoever. Even if I were to drain the battery, I can plug it in at night and it’ll be full in the morning, every time.

The other nice thing is the on-board computer, which recognizes my phone and starts playing music automatically. No more fiddling with aux cables. Hooray! (When I used an aux cord with Sophie, I had to constantly adjust the volume once I returned to headphones.)

Unfortunately, the dealership people didn’t activate something called the TCU, which allows me to connect Eddy to the Nissan App on my phone. As a result I spent several hours trying to sync it up, only to hear from the Nissan Tech Support guy that I needed to make an appointment with the dealer to get it sorted. Apparently it’s a process that takes five minutes, but the guy I spoke to said they wouldn’t have any openings after 4:00 until the end of December.

It doesn’t really matter, because the only reason I want app functionality in the first place is to start the car up in the morning while I’m still inside, and let it warm up while it’s plugged in. On the other hand, I heard recently that the Nissan App is woefully vulnerable to hacking, so maybe I should just leave the TCU unconnected. (Some of the news reports I’ve seen about people hacking into internet-linked cars are distressing. Cars just stop in the middle of the road and stuff.)

All in all, I could not be happier with Eddy. He’s a great lil’ guy, and he even has silly luxuries like seat warmers and a heated steering wheel. He’s kinda bulky, and I can’t wonder how much more efficient he would be if he were smaller. But he’s got really good pickup, and the keyless entry is more enjoyable than I ever expected. (I keep thinking about how nice it would be to abandon ancient mechanistic devices for other locks.)

Plus, we’re going to install solar panels on our roof someday soon. Then — as my lovely wife says — when I drive, I will be “farting out rainbows”. What a time to be alive!

In February 2011 my buddy Matt Thompson asked me to write something about the Wisconsin Act X protests for an anthropology blog called Savage Minds. That site is apparently offline for some reason, so I figured I’d make a mirror of the article I wrote. This is mostly for my own reference (guess who’s working on another book?) and posterity. Feel free to ignore it.

A Whirlwind Week of Wacky Workplace Wreckage in Wisconsin

by Eric S. Piotrowski

I wanted to join Scott Walker for his Fireside Chat on Tuesday evening. (Transcript here.) I was ready for some exciting debate, especially since the riots and chaos I had been promised by FoxNews were either exaggerations or (though I find it hard to believe, coming from such a reputable news organization) total lies. Alas, I was not allowed anywhere near Mr. Walker’s fireplace.

The past couple of weeks have been exhausting. Even more exhausting than my usual school schedule, which — I don’t mind telling you — is exhausting enough already. By Friday evening, my wife and I are usually worn out to the point where an evening out with dinner and a movie is usually replaced by delivery food and a rental DVD. On weekends we grade papers and try to regain our sanity before school starts again. (I teach at Sun Prairie High School; she works at the Wisconsin Network for Peace and Justice, and teaches at Madison Area Technical College.)

So when our pugilist governor announced his plan recently to (among other drastic measures) abolish collective bargaining rights for public-sector employees (which have been protected by Wisconsin law for 50 years), I knew I was facing a whole new level of physical exhaustion and psychic fatigue.

It’s On!

It began when the state teachers’ union WEAC urged us to protest at the capitol building during the day on Thursday 17 February. In ten years as a teacher, I have never chosen to be absent from school, so (like all my colleagues) I thought deeply about this decision. Wouldn’t I be letting my students down? Didn’t I have an obligation to my fellow teachers (and workers)? In which direction did the compass needle of conscience point?

I decided to join the protests, and because so many teachers were gone, the schools were closed. Although I originally claimed my absence was due to “illness”, I wrote an open letter to the district superintendent and my building principal on Friday explaining the truth about why I was gone. (Fortunately, they have both been very supportive; I will probably have my salary docked for the day, and possibly face a letter of discipline, but my job is not in jeopardy.)

As I said in that letter, I wish to apologize to the parents and families in Sun Prairie whose lives were made more difficult by my decision. I know some last-minute childcare/supervision arrangements had to be made, and I hate making other peoples’ lives more difficult. I consider teaching more than a mere job or profession: it is a calling, one which I approach with zest and passionate conviction. (I learned this from my mother, a relentlessly devoted lifetime educator.)

But those of us who do what we love (and love what we do) — even those of us who are prepared to sacrifice wealth, luxury, and material comfort in order to make the world a better place — must still insist on a decent standard of living and some power over workplace decisions. As I’ve said elsewhere, we need a revolution on the way to the revolution. We must sustain our spirits as active participants in this grand democratic experiment, and not abandon our right to leisure as guaranteed by Article 24 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

Who Gets to Bargain and Why?

Anyway, back to Walker’s Fireside Chat. I would love to sit down with our C-student governor and discuss the nature, purpose, history, and legitimacy of collective bargaining among public-sector employees. I feel strongly that Wisconsin law is correct to protect the rights of collective bargaining among public-sector employees, but I also recognize that our employment context is very different from that of workers in the private sector. (The collective-bargaining rights of the latter are enshrined in the 1935 National Labor Relations Act.)

Early in this process, I fell in love with a quote from Franklin Delano Roosevelt, from 1937: “The right to bargain collectively is at the bottom of social justice for the worker, as well as the sensible conduct of business affairs. The denial or observance of this right means the difference between despotism and democracy.”

As I quickly learned, however, President Roosevelt was in fact opposed to collective bargaining among public-sector workers. Also in 1937, he wrote a letter in which he declared: “All Government employees should realize that the process of collective bargaining, as usually understood, cannot be transplanted into the public service. […] The employer is the whole people, who speak by means of laws enacted by their representatives in Congress. […] Particularly, I want to emphasize my conviction that militant tactics have no place in the functions of any organization of Government employees. […] Since their own services have to do with the functioning of the Government, a strike of public employees manifests nothing less than an intent on their part to prevent or obstruct the operations of Government until their demands are satisfied. Such action, looking toward the paralysis of Government by those who have sworn to support it, is unthinkable and intolerable.”

Clearly, there is room for discussion. I’m still thinking about these matters, and I don’t enjoy a secure certainty about my arguments against Mr. Roosevelt’s articulate statement. However, as Paul Krugman recently noted: “In principle, every American citizen has an equal say in our political process. In practice, of course, some of us are more equal than others. […] On paper, we’re a one-person-one-vote nation; in reality, we’re more than a bit of an oligarchy, in which a handful of wealthy people dominate. Given this reality, it’s important to have institutions that can act as counterweights to the power of big money. And unions are among the most important of these institutions.” Given the power that corporations and wealthy individuals exert on government decisions, I believe that collective bargaining is a necessary counterweight, even for public-sector employees.

Finance: State, Local, National, and International

Where was I? Right, Walker’s Fireside Chat. I keep imagining what I would say to our Koch-brothers- and Wal-Mart-supported governor. I would try using logic, I suppose, since that’s what I usually start with.

I would remind him that this isn’t about the money, and never has been. As the Economic Policy Institute recently reported, public-sector employees in our fair state actually make less in wages and benefits than their private-sector counterparts. Most of us could probably make more money if we so chose, but we’re drawn toward professions that help make the world a better place. (As one superb lyricist said in a song about the protests: “I’m not here for the paycheck, but I can’t live without it / Could Walker do what we do? Somehow I kinda doubt it.”)

We teachers make concessions and sacrifices all the time, for the sake of state and local budgets. Every time we negotiate a contract, we accept larger class sizes; fewer teachers and education support personnel; less-frequent resource renewal; more personal payments into health and retirement accounts. Not long ago teachers in Sun Prairie agreed to consolidate our health-care package into a more restricted plan with Dean Health Systems, Inc. I, personally, am pretty happy with Dean, but I’ve heard that others face delays, limited doctor choice, sketchy controls on what is and is not covered, and other complaints not uncommon to HMOs.

I would remind Mr. Walker that labor leaders have indicated that we’re willing to accept the cuts in benefits, if the collective bargaining rights remain unmolested. On Wednesday 23 February, Wisconsin state superintendent Tony Evers made an identical statement. Walker has refused to consider the offer.

If I had the time, I would go into the root causes of our state’s budgetary crisis. I would remind readers that Walker has promised corporations (in the estimation of State Assembly Representative Mark Pocan) $5.3 billion in tax breaks. If I were feeling especially verbose, I might explore the national and international implications of our money woes. I might cite Richard Wolff in The Guardian, who explains how corporations shifted the tax burden onto the middle class after World War II. (And I would encourage everyone to read Donald Barlett and James Steele’s vital 1992 text America: What Went Wrong?)

I might also remind the US public that economies across the nation are suffering largely because of the reckless and insatiable lust for profits among Wall Street executives, as detailed in the final report of the Financial Crisis Inquiry Commission. I would point out that we’ve seen only minor surface-level baby-step regulatory changes since that catastrophic house of cards came crashing down, and we are probably 99% as vulnerable to a future economic apocalypse as we were when this all began.

If I wanted to get really crazy, I might even connect our current struggle to the transformation of the global economic superstructure that has taken place over the past 30 years, particularly with a focus on the International Monetary Fund, the World Bank, and the World Trade Organization. I would urge people to read Noam Chomsky and Ha-Joon Chang and Jon Jeter.

I would remind working people around the world that these changes are not inevitable, nor are the outcomes (particularly the concentration of wealth into a few hands, and the ubiquitous demands for austerity made of everyone else) a matter of chance. We are all suffering from a deliberate, concerted campaign of policymaking and global rulebook revision.

The Personal is Political

Wow, that was quite a tangent! Back to Walker’s Fireside Chat. Maybe logic wouldn’t be enough to convince Mr. Walker to alter his budget-repair bill. Maybe I should go for a personal approach if I ever get the chance to speak with our campaign-rule-violating governor.

After all, Frederick Douglass famously said, when discussing a somewhat more dire situation than the one we now face: “At a time like this, scorching irony, not convincing argument, is needed. O! had I the ability, and could reach the nation’s ear, I would, to-day, pour out a fiery stream of biting ridicule, blasting reproach, withering sarcasm, and stern rebuke. For it is not light that is needed, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake.”

To this end, maybe I should describe the demoralization, suspicion, and fear that will surely result in every Wisconsin school — elementary, middle, and high — when our collective bargaining rights are abolished. Despite Walker’s claim to the contrary, local governments and school boards have not been asking for the elimination of collective bargaining. The executive director of the Wisconsin Association of School District Administrators said such steps will “create a very problematic work environment because right now we have an established system and everyone knows how the systems works and there’s a comfort with everyone having a seat at the table. If you take that away, it leads to an uncertain work environment”.

Which leads to some fundamental questions about the nature of workplace democracy. We all seem to agree that citizens should get some say in how the government is run. So why should the same not also be true about the workplace? We deserve a voice in determining the conditions of our work, the distribution of materials and supplies, personnel decisions, and other key areas. Without collective bargaining, our voice is harshly weakened.

Or maybe I should discuss the money. (After all, as the Wu-Tang Clan said: “Cash Rules Everything Around Me”.) Maybe I should tell Walker about the veteran teachers who keep informing me that they won’t be around next year. Every time I hear this, I become more and more saddened. Last year I had to bid goodbye to a good friend and a great teacher named Jim Dahm. He was smart, funny, dedicated, and compassionate. The soul of our district constricted a bit when he left.

And now our district’s soul will wheeze painfully as many of our most experienced, talented, and wise women and men are forced out because of cold economic realities. The soul of our district will be further constricted as young teachers leave to find the aforementioned private-sector jobs that don’t require such painful personal financial sacrifice. One new teacher recently explained to me in precise numeric detail why she simply cannot afford to teach next year. All of this is before the inevitable layoffs.

These things matter. Esprit de corps is important to us as educators, and watching it wither in the face of a partisan powergrab makes me sad. (This is a good spot to drop in a George Washington quote I recently encountered, from his 1796 farewell address: “The alternate domination of one faction over another, sharpened by the spirit of revenge, natural to party dissension […] is itself a frightful despotism.”) We teachers sometimes describe ourselves as being “in the trenches”, and although I lack the courage or endurance (or view of violence as a legitimate means to resolve political disputes) to join the military, I often think of myself as a kind of soldier, doing battle against the deadly hordes of ignorance and apathy that threaten to consume our civilization.

Miso Soup (and Free Pizza) for the Soul

Fortunately, the explosion of warmth, solidarity, and friendship in and around the capitol building has been glorious. The protests have been remarkable, as they often are. I feel my heart smile when I see my fellow Americans (or humans anywhere on the planet) come together to demand peace and justice. I draw strength from the young people chanting angrily against unchecked executive power, and from the burly men (and women) decked out in workboots and hardhats, telling The Man to get off their backs and respect their rights.

When I arrived in the morning on Thursday, a trickle of yawning students (and other people) traipsed past, clutching sleeping bags and pillows. We applauded and thanked them loudly for burning the midnight oil. Later in the day, boxes of hot pizza appeared and we joyously inhaled slices of cheese and pepperoni, a generous antidote to the bitter cold and lunchtime hunger. These gifts continue to arrive for protesters, funded by supportive citizens in Wisconsin (and elsewhere). Hot chocolate may not do much to sway the powers that be, but it’s a splendid balm for the soul of a frustrated teacher.

And as frustrating as it has been to watch government leaders scapegoat a vulnerable workforce, I have been encouraged mightily by other state legislators working overtime to fight back. After I sent my first wave of emails to all assembly representatives and state senators, I got back many encouraging messages promising solidarity and resistance. While I am troubled by the sight of elected officials fleeing the state, I feel that this is a courageous act of defiance against a legislative body that has subverted the process of democracy.

We are sustaining each other, and these past few weeks have shown the loving spirit of solidarity. It is the same loving spirit that drove William Lloyd Garrison, Cesar Chavez, Harvey Milk, Paul Robeson, Emmeline Pankhurst, Bertrand Russell, Wangari Muta Maathai, Jody Williams, Utah Phillips, the people of Egypt, and countless others to push human civilization forward.

Wisconsin has a proud legacy of progressive activism, and I am proud to stand in the river of tradition that includes Bob La Follette, Tammy Baldwin, and Russ Feingold. I am lucky to find myself at this unique crossroads of history, where the people have stood up and recognized the power of their own voices. Whatever the outcome of this particular battle, we will continue working for a better tomorrow. In a state with such wealth and opportunity, there is no reason for us to accept mediocre public services, inadequate funding for education, or draconian assaults on the rights of working people.

The struggle goes on.

I’m on summer break — yay! I know some folks have been sending me things, and I apologize for not getting to them. I will soon, promise. In the meantime, enjoy this week’s show.

DS #64: Microwaves and Kafka

Top 3 Links of the Week

• Steve Keen: Why economics is bunk
• The skills gap myth
• Kafka’s final absurdist tale plays out in Tel Aviv

Current Events

• Wisconsin’s dangerous result
• Union rights? Wisconsin Dem recall silence speaks volumes
• Palin relishes Walker victory over Wisconsin union “thugs”
• Romney says we don’t need more firemen, police officers, teachers
• Mob of men sexually assault women in Cairo protesting sexual violence
• Digital copy of The Martian Chronicles on Mars
• Chinese stock index evokes Tianenmen

Economics

• Tavis Smiley interviews Charles Ferguson, author of Predator Nation
• Spain bailout reaction: “This is a rescue for the rich. The poor will only get poorer.”
• High frequency traders’ sights set on microwave dishes
• What if speed traders competed on price?
• Why foreign aid skeptics are wrong

Education

• Jeb Bush offers praise for Obama’s education policy
• Louisiana governor proposes major education changes
• Business tax plan filed in Nevada for education funding

Killer Robots, etc.

• International Committee for Robot Arms Control
• With robot use on the rise, it’s time to establish a set of ethical ground rules

Hip-Hop

• A survey of British hip-hop
• Braintax: “Monsoon Funk”

So Scott Walker wants us to stop fighting? Sorry, I’m from the John Paul Jones school of inspired resistance.

Skippered by Captain John Paul Jones of the Continental Navy, the Bonhomme Richard was devastated inthe initial broadside between the two ships, losing much of her firepower and many of her gunners.  Captain Richard Pearson, commander of the Serapis, called out to Jones, asking if he surrendered. Jones replied: “I have not yet begun to fight.”

Later, he said:

“I wish to have no connection with any ship that does not sail fast for I intend to go in harm’s way.”

I also learned that Jones quit his earliest job as a sailor because he was disgusted with the slave trade.

What’s this?