Outside Planned Parenthood’s clinic in downtown Boston, a painted yellow line swoops across the sidewalk and into the well-trafficked street, marking a 35-foot half-circle around the entrance. Most days, anti-abortion demonstrators gather on the edge of the line, holding signs and rosaries, and clutching bundles of pamphlets. As women approach the half-circle, the demonstrators spring into action. The goal is getting the women to pause and talk to them before they cross into the “buffer zone” on the other side of the line, which Massachusetts law declares a protest-free space.
The Supreme Court will hear oral arguments about the constitutionality of these buffer zones tomorrow, in McCullen v. Coakley. The arguments won’t tackle the polemical question of whether abortion should be available; instead, the justices will be asked to consider whether the buffer zones violate anti-abortion demonstrators’ First Amendment rights.
Just days after the first state-regulated marijuana shops opened in Colorado—to the delight of everyone who loves a good pot pun in their morning newspaper—reports began to circulate that New York’s Democratic governor, Andrew Cuomo, was poised to bring his state into line with the twenty others that have legalized marijuana for medical use. This week, according to the New York Times, Cuomo will announce an executive action allowing twenty New York hospitals to prescribe marijuana to patients with glaucoma, cancer, and a handful of other chronic diseases, to be determined by the Department of Health. The governor is skirting the state legislature, where four medical marijuana bills, including one that passed the House last spring, perished in the Republican-controlled Senate. The legislative proposals would have allowed patients with a dozen illnesses, including epilepsy, post-traumatic stress, diabetes, and arthritis, to possess two and a half ounces of cannabis, and set up a system for licensed marijuana distributors.
I've long held that much of American politics is a never-ending argument between the hippies and the jocks, as Baby Boomer politicians and commentators replay over and over the cultural conflict of their youth. And no issue brings that conflict more clearly to the fore than the question of marijuana legalization. Today, David Brooks wrote a predictably mind-boggling column on the topic, in which he reveals that he smoked pot as a teen but thinks legalization would mean "nurturing a moral ecology in which it is a bit harder to be the sort of person most of us want to be." I'm not going to spend time dealing with Brooks' argument, since plenty of people have done that already (if you want to read one takedown, I'd recommend Philip Bump's), but there is one aspect of this debate I want to take note of: the change in the nature of marijuana confessions.
The filmmaker Michael Moore has, through his fine documentary Sicko and other public arguments, done a great deal to bring attention to the deficiencies of the American health-care system. His New York Times op-ed on the occasion of the first day of the Affordable Care Act's exchanges repeats some of these important points. However, his essay also repeats a pernicious lie: the idea that the Affordable Care Act is essentially a Republican plan based on a Heritage Foundation blueprint. This argument is very wrong. It is both unfair to the ACA and far too fair to American conservatives.
Before explaining why a central premise of Moore's argument is wrong, let me emphasize our points of agreement. It is true that the health-care system established by the ACA remains inequitable and extremely inefficient compared to the health-care systems of every other comparable liberal democracy. Moore, unlike some critics of the ACA from the left, is also careful to note that the ACA is a substantial improvement on the status quo ante: if it's "awful" compared to the French or Canadian or British models, it's a "godsend" for many Americans. Moore also has some sensible suggestions for improving the ACA in the short term—most notably, a public option and state-level experiments in more public health care where it's politically viable.
This Saturday is the one-year anniversary of the Newtown shooting, and it's remarkable where we've come in that time. In the weeks that followed, everyone said that now we could finally pass some sensible measures to stem the river of blood and death and misery that is the price we pay for America's love of firearms. President Obama proposed some extraordinarily modest measures: enhanced background checks, limits on the kind of large-capacity magazines mass murderers find so useful, perhaps even a new ban on new sales to civilians of certain military-style weapons. Not a single thing that would keep a single law-abiding citizen from owning as many guns as he wants.
So here we are, a year later, and what has happened? First of all, at least 30,000 more Americans have had their lives cut short by guns; tens of thousands more were shot but survived. Around 200 children have been shot to death in that time—another 10 Newtowns. There was no federal legislation on guns. It died, because there are a sufficient number of Republicans (and a couple of Democrats) who, quite frankly, looked on one hand at a child getting murdered, and on the other hand at some armchair Rambo having to go a whole mile to the police station to get a background check before buying an AR-15 from his neighbor, and decided that the latter would be a greater moral outrage than the former.
Lots of things happened in 2013. President Obama was sworn in for a second term. We got a new pope and a new royal baby. Two bombs went off at the Boston Marathon and frightened a nation. The Supreme Court stripped power from the Defense of Marriage Act and the Voting Rights Act. But these are all stories we've heard before, and if you haven't, you certainly will in the millions of "Year in Review" pieces set to be posted between now and New Year's. Over the next two weeks, our writers will instead preview the year ahead on their beats, letting you know far in advance what the next big story about the environmental movement—or immigration reform, reproductive rights, you get the picture—will be.
An increasing number of people, up to and including the Attorney General of the United States, have condemned mass incarceration in the United States. The effects of having 5 percent of the world's population but nearly 25 percent of its prisoners housed within our borders are profound.
When, after a nationwide search, he was hired two years ago to serve as superintendent of Florida’s Broward County Public Schools, Robert Runcie began brainstorming ways to close the racial achievement gap. At the time, black students in the sixth-largest district in the country had a graduation rate of only 61 percent compared to 81 percent for white students. To find out why, Runcie, who once headed a management-consulting firm, went to the data.
Earlier today, the Supreme Court announced that it would hear not one, but two challenges to the Obama administration’s contraception mandate; they’ll be heard together in an action-packed hour of oral arguments sometime in the spring. Both cases deal with conservatives’ ever-growing penchant for anthropomorphizing corporations—this time, the justices will decide whether companies can be exempted from the mandate to provide birth control at no cost to employees because of the owners’ religious beliefs.
The detonation of the "nuclear option" against the filibuster for executive branch and most judicial-branch appointments was an obvious win for progressives. If, as seems likely, the use of the nuclear option puts the filibuster on the road to complete oblivion, this is an even bigger win for progressives, as the filibuster is a reactionary device both in theory and in practice. And yet, many people on all parts of the ideological spectrum have resisted this conclusion. Here are some of the major arguments being made against the deal from a Democratic perspective—and why they're wrong.
At midnight on December 6, 2012, when marijuana became legal in the state of Washington, a gaggle of celebrants gathered underneath Seattle’s Space Needle. Cheering and laughing, with no police in sight, they lit up and inhaled. “I feel like a kid in a candy store!” one man said. “It’s all becoming real now.”