

NO SECOND CHANCES
by Paul Rogat Loeb
Using rhetoric of compassion, a president who owes his career to unearned
breaks is defining his presidency as the regime of no second chances. Not
for individuals, nor for the planet, nor for anyone except the wealthy and
well-connected. Think back to his bankruptcy bill, pushed through on the
eve of a recession by credit-card companies that gleefully send cards to
your dog, cat, and 12-year-old, but don't want you to be able to make a
fresh start if you lose your job or have a medical crisis. If you went bankrupt
under the old system, you paid some costs, but at least you could get out
from under. Now, thanks to these key Bush funders, if your luck runs bad,
you're indentured for life.
The bankruptcy bill set a pattern --one that threatens to persist unless
the Democrats act far more aggressively than they did before the Jeffords
switch. Those with power have long believed that whatever damage they do
to individual lives or communities, they themselves can skate through, exempt
from costs. But the Bush administration is giving the wealthy more chances
and subsidies than ever and creating ever-harsher policies for the rest
of us, left to scavenge in the ruins. If we mess up, we're left with only
empty phrases.
When Bush proposed cutting funding for abused children, after-school programs,
low-income child­p;care, health care, and housing, he did so with kind
and gentle words -- in part to give an extra $53,000 per year to those one
in a hundred Americans whose annual incomes average a million. If you grow
up in poverty, however, you're now even more likely to stay there. Is the
pace or design of your workplace leaving you crippled? Wave good-bye to
ergonomics standards that took a decade to craft, but have now been gutted.
Hunger-relief lobbyists worked for years to get Congress to oppose user
fees in international aid programs, which prevented people without money
from getting health care or going to school unless they paid the institutions
that served them. Bush has now reversed the stand. The Clinton administration
belatedly passed a rule making it more difficult for corporations that consistently
violated laws to bid for federal contracts. That too is gone.
Bush is also denying a second chance for the earth -- the chance to learn
from the blind paths of the past. Instead, he's sandbagged the Kyoto global
warming treaty, reversed his stand on limiting carbon dioxide emissions,
cut alternative energy research and international family planning funds,
proposed unlimited oil drilling, nominated a timber industry shill to head
the forest service, and resurrected the rancid corpse of the nuclear power
industry. Given the accelerating pace of global climate change, species
extinctions, and population pressures, he's risking the chance for recovery
of the planet.
All this comes from a president whose career has consisted of unearned breaks
and forgiven mistakes: launching a succession of failed oil companies, losing
millions of his father's friends' dollars, and walking away with more money
each time; partying through Andover and Yale, bypassing a hundred thousand
others to get into the Texas National Guard, and then ducking out on a year
of service once he entered; being bailed out by connections every time.
Now, Bush has revived a previously dormant law denying federal financial
aid to college students with drug convictions. If you grow up wealthy, you
don't need the aid, so you can be as "young and irresponsible"
as you want and you'll be fine. But if you're broke and get busted, that's
it -- even if you change your ways.
Of course GW would never have entered the White House were it not for the
most profound elimination of second chances in our society-the banning of
1.4 million ex-felons from the voting rolls. In Florida alone, 650,000 people
were banned from voting for this reason, including one in three African-American
men. Tens of thousands more were knocked out through letters purging them
from the rolls for convictions that never applied under Florida law -- or
never existed. Rules barring ex-felons proliferated a century ago, spearheaded
by former Confederate states restricting black voting and establishing racial
segregation. They've disenfranchised far more people in the wake of bi-partisan
mandatory sentencing laws and other measures that have left us leading the
world in the percentage of our citizens in jail. No other advanced industrial
democracy bars former prisoners for life: Many actually encourage current
inmates to vote. But our laws "elected" GW, even before all the
discarded ballots and cancelled recounts. The ethic of no second chances
threatens to dominate the next fifty years if Bush appoints enough judges
like those who installed him in office. Are you a cancer patient on chemotherapy
who needs medical marijuana to keep down your medication and food? The Supreme
Court overrides the will of local voters and calls that illegal. Are you
an Alabama prison guard with asthma, wanting to be protected against working
in a smoke-filled environment that destroys your chances of recovery, or
a nursing home employee demoted for taking time off for cancer treatments?
Too bad, say the Justices: The American with Disabilities Act doesn't apply
to state employees. Are you a Texas mother who neglects to fasten your children's
seat belts? The police can now handcuff and arrest you in front of them
-- you'll get no sympathy here.
In the worldview of the Bush team, exemption is contingent on class. If
you're rich and contribute to Republican coffers, you deserve every forgiveness
and reward. If you're not, but are struggling with the downside of the American
dream, you just don't have what it takes. We've not quite revived workhouses
and debtors' prisons, but they seem close on the horizon, cloaked in words
of compassion.
Paul Loeb is the author of Soul of a Citizen: Living With Conviction in
a Cynical Time (St Martin's 1999). See www.soulofacitizen.org.