A controversial poster has been put on display in the Marquette Arts and Culture Center.  This supposed piece of art portrays four Republican governors, including Gov. Snyder of Michigan, as iron-fisted fascists, and features the Nazi Eagle symbol with the swastika replaced by the GOP elephant.  While the poster is a blatant appeal to hatred rather than open discussion, this post is designed to critique its actual content, specifically the claim that Snyder and his policies are “anti-worker.”

It is true that Gov. Snyder is pursuing policies that would reduce the influence of labor unions in Michigan.  However, are such actions actually harmful to workers?  Michigan’s unions today are machines with massive bureaucracies.  Research by Paul Kersey, director of labor policy at the Mackinac Center, showed that the Michigan Education Association spent 58.7 percent of its budget on administration and overhead, while the figure was 30.8 percent for United Auto Workers (“Union Spending in Michigan: A Review of Union Financial Disclosure Reports”).   Such spending calls the value of unions to their workers into question.  True, the value of mass representation might be worth the dues which workers pay, but this is far from guaranteed.

A strong free-market solution is to allow each worker to decide for themselves whether to join a union or not.  By logical extension, if workers have the right to associate, they should also have the right not to associate.  Compulsory unionization, in which qualified workers are legally prohibited from holding a position unless they join a union, flies in the face of economic freedom, as well as smart business.  Any responsible manager should hire the best-qualified individual for a position, and when unions attempt to prevent this, they reward mediocrity.  This can be seen in teachers unions when teachers’ hours and pay scales are tightly defined with no regard to merit.  Teachers are left with little incentive to excel, and students suffer (along with the best teachers, who do merit more pay).

By fighting against compulsory unionization, especially in the public sector, Snyder and his fellow governors are far from being “anti-worker.”  Allowing workers the freedom to manage their own paychecks, rather than pay dues to potentially wasteful unions, is pro-worker.  In the long run, right-to-work policies make the unions more efficient and helpful to workers: unions have much more incentive to serve their members well when said members have the freedom to leave if they wish.

I suffer from the delusion of responsible politics.  I like to assume that politicians tell us exactly what they are about, what they will and won’t vote for, and they do everything in their power to get their agenda accomplished. Unfortunately these expectations, rather than making me a political guru, make me naïve. The sad fact is, a lot of politicians are involved for personal gain and ego, and making behind the scenes deals is how policy gets passed.

Not only does this system discourage integrity, but the majority of the population does not take the time to examine these politicians. Often, politics devolves into presentation to appeal to those who refuse to learn what a candidate’s track record is, or what they have actually accomplished. It’s a system that does not hold politicians accountable to the principles of the constitution, but willingly confers power over every aspect of American life to well-dressed strangers.

Politics has become a place to be someone famous for just being. An excellent example of this is the 2009 decision of the Nobel Peace Prize Committee to bestow their prize onto then-recently elected President Obama. Obama is a great politician. He is well-spoken, has a beautiful wife (with an expansive garden at the White House), and two lovely children.  He campaigned his way into office on a platform of hope and change — intangibles that lit up the faces of those who did not bother to learn how he planned to achieve them and shrugged off his lack of political experience in favor of the wordy rhetoric offered instead.

The fact that Obama won a Nobel Peace Prize in 2009, after doing essentially nothing in office except spending taxpayer dollars on a massive stimulus (unrelated to global peace whether you supported it or not), is unnerving. Here is a politician, receiving a prestigious global prize just for being. The press release from the prize committee cited his creation of “a new climate in international politics.” It further states “Only very rarely has a person to the same extent as Obama captured the world’s attention and given its people hope for a better future.” Let’s summarize: Obama wins because he’s a pretty cool dude and people like him.

Whatever ideology one subscribes to, politics is a dirty game. It’s about how you talk and what you wear and who you know and how you can present yourself to a primarily apathetic populous who don’t bother to learn the issues, but know that they think you’d do a better job because you promised them you would. It’s a voter base that believes you must be doing the best thing for them because you look like too nice of a guy to slowly but surely cut away at the freedoms and principles that made this country great — and a voter base that, for the most part, won’t check to see if that’s true.

The word “good” doesn’t mean “pleasant.” It’s not a synonym for “delicious” or “talented,” and should never be preceded by the words “really,” “pretty” or “super.” Commitment to an idea necessitates a complete grasp of that idea’s magnitude. But no one can fully comprehend a concept that is not communicated with precision. “Good” furnishes us with an excellent example of this principle.

I suppose I ought to pause and qualify my opening statement, because these days “good” actually has come to denote “pleasant,” “delicious” and “talented,” and can therefore be modified using words like “really.” But this nonchalance robs “good” of its richness, of its gravity, of the fullness of its implications. Everyone understands the casual “good” when it is reduced to “likeable” – a shallow, subjective term to apply to anything pleasing. Rarely, however, does “good” enter the conversation in terms of “the Good,” or to indicate conformity to an objective  standard of excellence. Let me illustrate the distinction.

When a carpenter considers his newest table, he doesn’t sit back and exclaim, “Hey, that’s pretty good!” This would smack of self-congratulation, and would do more to communicate his reaction rather than to describe his work. Rather, he  nods, gives it a thump, and says simply, “Good.” He can call it that not because it pleases him in some subjective way, but because the table has met an objective standard and therefore has goodness.

This begs the question, “What is goodness?” Our reason replies that this common noun refers to a certain desirable quality that every human person inherently understands. And then we immediately grasp the gravity of the situation. If to call something good is to say that it has goodness, which is to link it to an eternal transcendent principle, then we realize that this is not a word we may speak lightly. Certainly we can and ought to use it, but, realizing now what it means, we apply it with greater care because we can suddenly see its implications. These implications include the responsibility we have for the proper use of the word.

If what I have said is true, then it points to a broader principle of precision in language that carries with it an obligation. We are responsible for every word, for protecting from corruption these greatest products of our God-given reason. Imagine what might happen if we took responsibility for the word “liberal.” Reestablishing the fundamental meaning of this word (līberālis: of freedom), for example, would completely renovate our political landscape.

The bottom line is this: our ability to build a language allows us to build societies around a discussion about what it means to live well and to hold one another accountable within them. The development of the common noun means that we can share a conception of morality and reinforce it. Without language, this would be impossible. And it is my argument that to allow language to decay is to allow society and morality to decay.

Talk to Me: What do you think about the connection between language and morality? How do you perceive technology to play into the discussion?

My friend and I recently walked down to the park in the town of Midland. The scene was full of life. Arts-and-crafters lined the pavement, selling their goods. Musicians on the stage warmed up their instruments. Lawn chairs were strategically placed all over the park; old couples held hands; and children ran through the maze of people and picnic baskets.

In this lively setting, my thoughts were not political. Yet I would soon encounter a situation that caused me to see our political system in a different light.

Amid the happy throng, a group of red-shirted individuals caught my eye. Their clothing and clipboards read, “Recall Governor Snyder.” I kept my gaze low and hurried to get safely past without stirring up a conversation, since I didn’t consider an evening in the park to be an ideal time for politics

My companion, however, had a different idea.

“How many of you are picketing statewide?” he asked.

The red shirts eagerly flocked around.

I was annoyed.

By the end of a frustrating conversation with these picketers, I was almost ready to reconsider my generally scrupulous support of the First Amendment and the state constitution, which allows a recall of the governor.

After reflecting, however, my attitude changed. I don’t profess to know if Gov. Snyder should be recalled. Nevertheless, I realized that what actually annoys me are people always complaining about what’s going on in our country and claiming to know what’s best for it, but doing nothing to change it.

Thursday evening, I witnessed one of the attributes of freedom and democracy. Even though we participate in the age-old game of incessant whining about government, as citizens of the United States and Michigan, we can criticize and take action. Whichever way we choose, whether peacefully picketing, blogging, voting or running for office, we still have a say in decisions that affect our future.

As Americans, we all have different ideas about who should run our country and how it should operate. In spite of reading various editorials stating that attempting to recall Gov. Snyder is too negative, I think the recall volunteers honored our democratic system by not only knowing, but also exercising, their rights as citizens of this nation.

In a classic American scene — a walk in the park, a band warming up, young entrepreneurs selling artwork — another great theme of freedom appeared: passionate individuals devoted to a cause and committed to shaping their own future, instead of allowing someone else to form it instead.

As a student, I have taken my turn reading through the sappy, statist pages of “The Jungle,” as well as the contrasting pages of “Animal Farm.” These books are powerful because they portray important ideas in an entertaining, understandable way. Properties like these make literature a powerful tool in any intellectual movement, and although some would claim that free-market literature lacks the emotional appeal of that which promotes more government intervention, there is still compassion and power in many novels which promote liberty.

I received much of my personal inspiration and knowledge of the workings of the free market and alternate economic systems from books like “1984” and “Atlas Shrugged,” and can testify firsthand to the effect they had on me. However, looking beyond the usual suspects for “liberty literature,” it is interesting to note that some literature which at first glance appears to be sympathetic to big government actually has some free-market leanings. One example is found in Charles Dickens.

In “A Christmas Carol,” Scrooge refuses to give money to the sweet and needy Crachit family in a classic example of the heartless actions of big business owners… or does he? When the men first come to his door with a collection for the poor, he turns them away, grumbling that there are jailhouses, union workhouses and poor laws to take care of the problem that he already pays his taxes to. It is only when the ghosts make him aware of the needs in his own neighborhood, his personal experiences and knowledge of the needs of his neighbors enables him to give generously in a way that makes the maximum positive impact on all involved.

When one starts looking with a close eye at every media one is presented with, many hidden philosophies will emerge. For instance, while watching “Jaws” with my fellow interns, we noted the surprising role the mayor played in insisting the beach be kept open despite the dangers it posed. The police chief had no power to overturn this decision for the safety of the people. In the end, it is the privately contracted boat and the help of a scientist (who buys all his own equipment with no federal help, by the way) and freelance shark killer that get the police chief where he needs to be to protect the people of the town.

Following free-market ideals does not mean ignoring the plight of the poor or endangered. Instead it encourages personal responsibility in reacting to these situations. Sometimes when there is trouble in the town, the cloud which has covered the hopeful rays of help is in the shape of “Big Government.”