Monday, September 28, 2009

Guns as butter?

First of all, I should begin with a thanks to Oppenheimer, von Braun, Franklin Delano Roosevelt and others for their efforts to build and field weapons that have finally ended major war between nation states. Despite ongoing and widespread civil wars and border conflicts in the developing world, there is a growing list of countries that do not fear invasion or even widespread bombing because they can provide a credible threat of nuclear retaliation. That is no small thing, and those of us who live under a comfortable nuclear umbrella should be thankful.

However, that does not mean large military forces are unnecessary. ICBMs and nuclear bombs might keep major combat to a minimum, but they do nothing to prevent, as former Marine Corps Commandant Krulak put it, the "stepchildren of Chechnya" from reaping havoc. The solution to this problem is often referred to as finding a Comprehensive Approach, one that integrates the military, diplomacy and economy of a state or international body to direct the course of a nation or state abroad.

This is known as "armed social work", in the 1990's as DIME, more recently as COIN, and here I'll call it "Guns as Butter." In the typical guns vs. butter model, social work, economic development and primary education are social goods that compete with the military for public funds. Most conservatives argue heavily in favor of buying "guns", as these provide security, as opposed to the wishy-washy notions of a Great Society. However, the primary application of our "guns" since WWII has been to try and spread "butter" across the rest of the world. The irony of this is not lost on organizations such as the Center for Complex Operations, but the magnitude of the problem prevents much laughter.

To be fair, this model has its domestic applications as well. The recent fight over the F-22 is a great example, as almost every defense of the program included the word "jobs" and only a resolute few claimed there was a military need for thirteen more of the jets. Most defense contractors publish advertisements citing how widespread their sourcing is for major weapons systems, clearly to encourage Congress spread a little "gun butter" around their districts. Militarily, a supply chain that stretches across CONUS is much more vulnerable to attack, or even natural disaster, than a centralized one. Socially, this is invaluable for providing demand for technology workers around the country.

This post is not a criticism of this arrangement. Certainly, I have and continue to personally benefit from it to a large degree. However, we're in a bad fiscal position, and this is unsustainable. David Brooks suggests that this is The Next culture War. I certainly hope so.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Looking back on a big year

"Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away." --Philip K. Dick.

This is my 100th post, and it's about a year since the "Firing of the Bazooka", when Secretary Paulson pulled Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae into federal receivership. Seems like a good time to reflect.

Marketplace from American Public Media has a great series of stories about what we learned from the collapse of Lehmann Brothers. They highlight the fact that an almost blind faith overtook much of the world, and especially the United States, that assumed a steady and reliable rise in asset prices. Paul Krugman refers to this as Panglossian Economics, wherein we believed complicated mathematical models that showed we lived in the best of all possible worlds. As long as we believed, it worked.

But then we stopped believing that banks, their customers and other counterparties could meet their obligations. To save off disaster, the Federal Reserve "printed" $1.2Trillion in one day, and drove interest rates to zero. This wasn't enough, and the US Congress authorized the Treasury to almost explicitly nationalize the financial system by handing over $700billion to "save" the financial system. In other words, we stopped believing in the banks, but we didn't stop believing in the government or its money. And so we find ourselves engaged in a sort of "extend and pretend" period, were we hope that asset prices start rising again, and with it a return of the good days.

For those who hoped the crash and last election would lead to fundamental changes, this is kind of disappointing. A sizable majority, however, absolutely depend on their 401k's, pension plans, and property value to continue living without family or charitable support. The historically minded are certainly worried that having watched one cherished institution fail, the strength of belief in others is weaker. Certainly, there were large increases in stock prices in the early 1930's, as investors badly wanted to believe that things were better, but people could still not pay their mortgages. Sound familiar?

The reality, such as it is, is that we aren't ready to stop believing in most of the systems that delivered prosperity since the 1950s, or 1980s. In some ways, this is very good, since the social dislocation involved in ending that belief is scary. In others, it blinds us to the need to move past "extend and pretend" to a discussion of what a sustainable future looks like.

I'm fundamentally an optimist. Means and opportunity occasionally meet to provide for interesting projects that show an alternative approach to our current lifestyle. Micheal Pollan is optimistic, cautiously, that we're on a course to start addressing problems in our food system. There's a robust and civil debate about the purpose and nature of the military at the US Naval Institute blog that tries to reconcile the US fiscal situation with its strategic posture.

Oil prices are rising again, and electric vehicles are all the rage. Michigan is trying to retool to make items for public transit (you may enjoy the irony). Farmer's markets are doing very well and bicycles are steadily gaining popularity as a commuting tool. Civility is breaking out in more and more quarters. And there's a new season of the FIRST Lego League underway. The future's so bright I've gotta wear shades.