Thoughts on freedom, programming and other type stuffs.

They Have Their Exits and Entrances

The discussion boards I’ve had to use throughout my Master’s program have been endlessly fascinating.  They’re almost always apolitical — after all, colliding the worlds of Oracle SQL or Microsoft SQL server and political theory isn’t particularly easy — with rare exceptions.

In my Application Security class, this week’s discussion is about the “scourge” of bad software coming from overseas and what might be done about it. The contention being that without intervention, bad software might flood our markets, causing, in the words of a classmate, “small irritations that on my iTouch, the cover of the audible book does not match the actual book to a Toyota software bug that causes my Prius brakes to fail.”

She goes on to say:

Software applications control my diabetic son’s insulin pump that he needs to stay not only alive but healthy so that he can go to college next month. Software applications control my banking which wouldn’t make anyone very rich but would devastate us if our money was stolen. Software applications run the ticket distribution of the World Series, Super Bowl, World Cup  and cause riots when the systems fail.

The point my classmate made was ultimately that she “believe[s] strongly that the ‘bad’ practices and software applications need fixing!”

Now I’ll grant you, it wouldn’t be fair of me to infer that my classmate was demanding government intervention.  She didn’t finish her post by demanding that the government pass a bill that specifically sets standards for application security.  And as such, I think my biggest beef is the prompt, the notion that there are things in this world that demand something be done.

Whether you’re talking application security or national security, doing “something” because people demand it is security theater, the fever-delusion of believing that running around looking busy makes people safer in anything other than name.

All of which is to bring you this heartbreaking and terrible reminder of just what security theater actually means:

If we cannot prevent an event like Utøya, the worst killing spree ever in world history and the worst terrorist act in entire Europe in two decades, by any means conceivable — why are we playing this security theater and giving up hard-won civil liberties one after another?

The only thing that would have caught Breivik would have been frequent police raids turning his farm inside out, leaving no room to hide his experiments in chemistry. Turning all industries and homes inside out with sharp regularity might have prevented this. Even still, a person as determined as Breivik would likely have been able to blend in even under such circumstances.

Benjamin Franklin famously said, that “a people who gives up its freedom to gain a little security will lose both and deserve neither”. But now that it has been shown in the most gruesome, in-your-face way that we don’t even gain a little security by giving up these freedoms, then why are we doing so?

At its most benign, “security theater” means expensive, incomplete security which leaves all parties exposed without knowing it.  When government takes up the yoke of security theater, that expensive, incomplete mess comes with the additional price of rending our civil liberties asunder.

No matter its intentions or its well-meaning missions, government cannot hide us from the creeping specter of death.  We are never terribly long for this earth, no matter how many civil liberties we sacrifice.  People will always aim to maim and terrify and torture and hurt and, really, that leaves us with a tremendous choice: we can choose to accept the gifts of life and liberty and the ability to pursue what makes us happy and embrace those gifts to the fullest…or we can hand them away in hopes that we can delay the unavoidable end for a moment longer.

Jack M. Balkin Still Doesn’t Understand The Constitution

Jack M. Balkin, J.D., Ph. D.  laughs at his lack of Constitutional understanding.One of the most-visited posts on these localized interwebs is my original post about the Commerce Clause, in which James Madison — author of the Commerce Clause — says that Jack M. Balkin, J.D., Ph. D doesn’t understand the Constitution.  In fact, if you Google “Jack M. Balkin J.D. Ph.D” that post still comes up near the top.

This is one of my life’s most important accomplishments.

And really, I considered that matter resolved.  Jack M. Balkin made a hilariously uninformed comment about the Constitution and I laughed at him online.  Water under the proverbial bridge.

So color me surprised that Jack M. Balkin, J.D., Ph. D is back in the news making a mockery of Yale Law School once again.

This go around, Jack M. Balkin, J.D., Ph. D has prostituted himself for the cause of President Obama’s debt ceiling powers, saying (originally in the New York Times, but then in this poorly-researched tripe):

The words of the provision are in important ways quite vague. “Nobody would argue,” said Sanford Levinson, a law professor at the University of Texas, “that Section 4 is clear in its meaning, other than at the time everyone thought that the South, if they ever got back in control, would not pay Civil War debt.”

But Jack M. Balkin, a law professor at Yale, said it was possible to infer a broader principle.

“You’re not supposed to hold the validity of the public debt hostage to achieve political ends,” Mr. Balkin said. He added, though, that “Section 4 is a fail-safe that only comes into operation when everything else is exhausted.”

Surely, the 14th Amendment must be ambiguous for Jack M. Balkin, J.D., Ph. D. to see in it every power of the party he supports…right?  Take it away, actual relevant  text of the 14th Amendment!

The validity of the public debt of the United States, authorized by law, including debts incurred for payment of pensions and bounties for services in suppressing insurrection or rebellion, shall not be questioned. But neither the United States nor any State shall assume or pay any debt or obligation incurred in aid of insurrection or rebellion against the United States, or any claim for the loss or emancipation of any slave; but all such debts, obligations and claims shall be held illegal and void.

Jack M. Balkin, J.D., Ph. D, who wants you to take him seriously, really, thinks that this somehow overrides earlier parts of the Constitution.

Specifically:

All Bills for raising Revenue shall originate in the House of Representatives; but the Senate may propose or concur with Amendments as on other Bills.

Article 1, Section 7, Clause 1, Jack.

The Congress shall have Power…To borrow Money on the credit of the United States;

Article 1, Section 8, Clause 2, Mr. Balkin.

No Money shall be drawn from the Treasury, but in Consequence of Appropriations made by Law; and a regular Statement and Account of the Receipts and Expenditures of all public Money shall be published from time to time.

Article 1, Section 9, Clause 7, Jackie.

(Because Googling is hard. I give Jack M. Balkin, J.D., Ph. D the actual text of the Constitution.)

Jack M. Balkin, J.D., Ph. D. would have you believe that the 14th Amendment gives his President some new, mystical power to do what Jack wants him to do.  He’d have you believe that the 14th Amendment does whatever the crap he wants it to instead of, y’know, what it says: eliminates the debt incurred by the Confederate states during the Civil War. He’d have you believe that the 14th Amendment approaches in any possible way the idea that the House is no longer in charge of budgets simply because Jack M. Balkin, J.D., Ph. D. doesn’t like the budget they’re proposing.

Jack M. Balkin still doesn’t understand the Constitution.

The Snorting Warthog of Intemperance in the Other Room

We have a houseguest.

My wife’s friend is visiting for an overly-long five days this week, and I’d be done with the whole matter — upstairs reading my Kindle in peace — but that this particular houseguest is giving me an increasingly rare chance to observe wildly retarded politics in action.

For anonymity’s sake, I will call our houseguest “Thor.”

And for clarity’s sake, it should be said right up front that Thor is a gay man.  They are old college friends, and it’s our turn to put him up for — and I’ll reiterate this — an overly long five days.

Thor is periodically yelling at his computer from the other room, trying in vain to sucker my wife into a two-man political rally in favor of the Democratic Party.  My wife, though I can’t see her, is probably nervously laughing, changing the subject, staring blankly into the television, because (and here’s the crux of this whole post) we don’t see wildly retarded politics in action very often any more.

There was a moment in college when I got angry at a very good friend during a political argument and threw a copy of John Locke’s Second Treatise on Government at him.  It hit him in the chest and we stared dumbly at each other before he — in the role of “better man” he’s so often played in our friendship — walked away.

My attraction to politics flipped polarity that night.  My empire of dirt — political columnist, editor of a small start-up magazine, growing power in the College Republicans — began to crumble away.

“Friendships trump politics” was the lesson I took away that night.  “Everything trumps politics” was the bigger lesson.

I’ve been reading The Declaration of Independents by Matt Welch and Nick Gillespie for the past few nights, and I think that’s the conclusion they’re building to.  It’s not that freedom doesn’t matter.  Liberty matters intensely.  It’s that tribal loyalty brings out the very worst in us, causes us to disavow friends, fractures our relationships.  And in the case of Thor, it hangs a pea soup-thick cloud over our judgment.

Thor’s loud pledge of allegiance to the Democratic Party is a sad reminder of the price of politics.  He has convinced himself that his team is better at providing civil liberties, that it can provide a clear path to a balanced budget; he has convinced himself that the other team is the source of all budget woes, that it is actively seeking to trample his civil liberties (though of course this last part is true).  He is literally unable to comprehend life outside of the binary, and it is periodically turning him into a snorting warthog of intemperance in the other room.

Politics is a sorry thing.  It’s the process of using force to uphold your causes that a massive amount of people — given their druthers — would never want for themselves.  It is a thing of coercion, of rage, of force and hate and the belief that you — you — know better than other people what they should or should not be doing.

When that book sank sadly to the floor that night, my political life was over.  My friend — always the better man — forgave me.  He later asked me to be the best man at his wedding, and at the reception dinner, I explicitly avoided telling the story about my John Locke-related childishness, bygones being better off buried.

I guess that’s the point of this post: politics may make for good allegiances, and it may make for a cathartic moment every other November, but it doesn’t make us one iota more free, and it sure as hell doesn’t make for good friendships.

One of those William Chase Johnson blogs.