WaPo Goes X

In the latest Bezos bulldozer to the Washington Post's credibility, the Amazon.com owner has announced a new party line for the editorial page. Henceforth, he wrote, the editorial page would be dedicated to two views: "personal liberties and free markets." "[V]iewpoints opposing those pillars" will not be published. Bezos argued that while once upon a time it might have been "a service" for a newspaper "to bring to the reader's doorstep every morning a broad-based opinion section that sought to cover all views[, t]oday, the internet does that job." The decision led to the resignation of the Post's opinion editor and another wave of discontent amongst the paper's rank-and-file.

My initial thought was to wonder exactly which viewpoints opposed to "personal liberties" and "free markets" Bezos thought the WaPo had been publishing. My second thought was to ponder which views contrary to "personal liberty" would actually no longer be published. Vaccine mandates, I assume. I certainly doubt opposition to trans healthcare, or impinging on a woman's right to choose an abortion, will take on verboten status. As for "free markets" -- kleptocratic suckling to government strongmen for fear of legal retaliation: free market, or no? We'll find out soon enough!

Bezos' move is obviously about effectuating another rightwing shift in the paper (the New York Times noted that Bezos' duo echoed the informal motto of the notoriously extreme Wall Street Journal editorial page: "Free Markets, Free People"). The newsroom remains unaffected for now (the Post's own article on Bezos' decision is a good read), but we'll see how long that lasts.

It gives Bezos far too much credit to compare this decision with his other attacks on the Post's independence, but let's go through the motions, because it does demonstrate that there are no actual principles -- journalistic or otherwise -- in play here. Bezos' indefensible defense of his presidential non-endorsement decree was predicated on the idea that the narrowing force of a presidential endorsement would necessarily suggest journalistic bias and damage the paper's credibility -- a demand for wider viewpoints, not narrower ones. The Post's Scholastic Kids Choice-esque new motto, "riveting storytelling for all of America" tries to sound a similar theme: the Post needs to speak to a wider audience by presenting a wider range of views; it cannot remain cloistered as the mouthpiece of a particular bubble. Juxtapose that against his newfound contempt for a "broad-based opinion section", and the contradiction is obvious -- but "contradiction" again assumes there was a principle in play in the first place. There wasn't -- that was obvious before, and it's more obvious now.

As a business move, there's zero chance that any part of Bezos' demolition derby will redound to the Post's benefit. But I don't think he cares, because he's realized that the Post offers him something far more valuable than a business. It offers him a mouthpiece.

The footsteps Bezos is following here are those of Elon Musk and X. As a business, Musk has  of course run X into the ground. But if you're a rich as Musk or Bezos is, that loss is a rounding error. What Musk has gained, of course, has been a megaphone to promote and amplify whatever views and ideologies that appeal to his fancies -- in his case, a cavalcade of conspiracy theories and white supremacist MAGA garbage. Even for our most rapacious capitalists, not every investment has to be monetary -- spending money to bend the arc of the entire world's political discourse surely can be viewed as money well spent (and of course, under the right conditions even an objectively cratering business can still gain value if it is seen as a gateway to the autocrats).

So too, it seems, for Bezos and the Washington Post. Are these moves going to gain back the subscribers he lost? Doubtful. It probably will accelerate departures. But the Post's name still has value, and now it gets to be Bezos' own personal Pravda. Whatever that costs, Bezos is clearly willing to pay it.

Betar Expulsion as Trump Impeachment

The other day, I wrote about the new(-ish) far-right organization operating in Jewish spaces, Betar. Betar has distinguished itself for its open endorsement of hate and violence directed both at Palestinians (its response to reports of Israel killing children in Gaza was to say "Not enough. We demand blood in Gaza!") as well as Jews it views as insufficiently fundamentalist in our Zionism, which in their case means virtually all of us.

Since them, they've gotten into a spat with the ADL after the latter added them to its database of extremism. And then a competing slate in the World Zionist Congress elections, Kol Israel, moved to have Betar expelled from the American Zionist Movement, citing both electoral blackmail tactics and Betar's "abhorrent" calls "for genocide and the murder of Palestinian babies." Betar, through its coalition partner ZOA (there's a team-up everyone could see coming), has warned of filing retaliatory complaints against Kol Israel.

On the one hand, it's always good to see groups stand up to racist thugs like Betar. On the other hand, this feels eerily reminiscent of how the political establishment treated the rise of Donald Trump. 

After years of ignoring, excusing, coddling, and enabling him, January 6 happened and for an instant it seemed like folks woke up and sanity might be restored. But the reality was it was already too late -- the supposedly unthinkable extremism that Donald Trump represented had become normalized through those years of excuse and neglect. Even in the most incredible moment -- the immediate wake of an outright insurrection against the United States -- the effort to rein him in fizzled out, and he would soon reestablish himself as at the center of a conservative movement that at one point would have viewed as the most outrageous slander the charge that it would harbor the likes of Donald Trump. They failed to stop him when they could, and found themselves isolated and alone when they (briefly) roused themselves to try.

That pattern seems apt here. Efforts to kick out ZOA from the Conference went nowhere. A similar initiative at the Boston JCRC, one where it was admitted ZOA "elevated White supremacism", only ended up yielding the eventual departure of the left-wing group the Workers Circle (that group also left the Conference). In Isarel, years of enabling and nurturing the neo-Kahanists have made them into the dominant force in Bibi's coalition -- a cadre that is not just ("just") contained to secondary parties like Jewish Power but is running riot through Likud itself. In the diaspora, too, Kahanism is being ever-more normalized as something other than a violent mob of racist thugs. Everyone who thought this was just posturing, or political jockeying, or unsavory alliance-making, but who was sure that if and when the time came they could pump the brakes has been proven to be a fool. There are no brakes. As wrote in my first post on Betar:

[L]eaders of social groups that simultaneously play footsie with the sort of extreme rhetoric while assuaging themselves that of course their actual politics are humanitarian and egalitarian, they're just revving up a crowd or exaggerating for effect, will quickly learn that much of their base isn't in on the bit. They're in it for the hate, and when someone offers that hate better, they won't listen to your attempts to rein things back in.

So as happy as I am to see groups try to stand up to Betar and ZOA, I am dubious about their likelihood of success. The most likely outcome for Betar and ZOA is exactly what they've enjoyed for years by the mainstream Jewish institutions: averting their eyes, kicking the can down the road, hoping the problem solves itself -- and with each passing moment, what once was unthinkable becomes undislodgeable.

Maybe eventually, someone will learn a lesson. But I doubt it will be this day.

How To Expand the NCAA Tournament

It's not breaking news, but apparently the NCAA is considering expanding its college basketball tournament to 72 or 76 teams (from the current 68).

As a certified curmudgeon, I've opposed every tournament expansion since it was at 64 teams. The basic problem is obvious: the expansions are all soulless cash grabs, and the beneficiaries are inevitably the ninth best team in the Big Ten with a barely over-500 record who'll get trounced in one round, two if lucky. Who cares?

The nominal reasons for this expansion (again, skipping past the real one, which remains "cash grab") are (a) that there are more schools in Division I than ever before, and (b) that the small number of "play-in" matches means that most fans don't view the games as "real" parts of the tournament. Expanding the number of play-ins so it more closely approximates a full tournament round means more attention to all of them.

The first reason doesn't move me. The second actually does carry some weight for me, since my absolute favorite sports weekend of the year is the first two rounds of the NCAA tournament when it's just an endless stream of do-or-die basketball and a more robust play-in round might approximate that. But again, I just don't have any real interest in seeing a few more mediocre Power Five conference teams get trotted in as sacrifices.

So here's my proposal: expand the tournament, but all the new at-large bids have to go to conferences who don't have any non-automatic qualifiers.

After all, isn't that why we watch the tournament? It's for random schools from nowhere-ville coming out of the 14 seed slot to knock off Kansas. Give me more opportunities for that! Right now, there are a bunch of conferences whose only representation is the auto-qualifier, and in some of those cases the auto-qualifier is not the best team in the conference (looking at you, 1997 Fairfield). I don't have a problem with that -- it's awesome when an objectively terrible team has a miracle run in their conference tournament to gain the auto-qualifier. But the point is I'd absolutely prefer the actual best team in that conference to get a chance to dance over some big-name school that's already proven they can't hack it.

So sure -- expand the tournament. But this time use the opportunity to spread the wealth. Down with the mediocre big names; up with the obscure mid-majors!

The Irrelevant Innumeracy of the Swarmed GOP Town Halls

Surely by now you've seen the stories about GOP congressmen, in deep red districts, being absolutely swarmed by angry constituents furious that they're not standing up to Trump, Musk, DOGE, and the buzzsaw attack on hardworking federal employees.

My thesis about this will be twofold. First, there's objectively less to these events than meets the eye. And second, it doesn't matter that there's objectively less to these events than meets the eye, and we should all behave like they're exactly what they appear to be.

Start with the first. The excitement over these protests relates to the sense that anger and outrage over Trump has expanded beyond the blue bubbles and is penetrating even dark red terrain. But the mistake here is something I alluded to in my How To Tokenize with Proportions post. A congressional district where a Republican won by, say, a 66-33 margin is by any measure a dark-red district. But it also is a district where one in three voters voted Democrat. One in three is a lot of people! In a congressional district of 750,000, it's 250,000 people! It is not hard to fill a high school auditorium, particularly if that 250,000 is feeling especially angry and activated.

It's an issue of framing, if you're generous, or innumeracy, if you're not: 33% doesn't feel very common, 1 in 3 feels very common. Politically speaking, the former is closer to accurate, which is why congressional districts where one sees 66/33 margins aren't typically treated as competitive.

But what innumeracy taketh away, innumeracy also giveth. The fact is that most people see a crowd of angry constituents filling an auditorium in a deep-red district and don't start doing math about how easy or hard it is to fill up the space given the baseline number of Democrats around. They just see the crowd. Politics is often a game of perception and of momentum -- people see others in their community and in their spaces expressing anger and fear and frustration, and it validates their own nascent feelings of anger, fear, and frustration. It makes them feel like they're not alone. It encourages them that these sentiments are common in their community, and that they're not weird or outcasts or loners if they feel them too. All of that starts to build a narrative conducive to resistance. And even if it doesn't mean the deepest-red congressional districts will flip blue in 2026, it gets that permission structure going that will make life very difficult for Republicans in more vulnerable seats.

So keep swarming. Keep yelling. Keep sharing those vids. Build up that narrative that people everywhere are mad as hell, and they're ready to fight. In politics, image becomes reality before you know it.

Ailing

An inevitable event every new parent dreads is the first time their baby gets sick. But a less remarked on, but almost as frightening prospect is the first time you, the parent, gets sick while caring for a baby.

This past week, my keratoconus has been acting up. Looking back on my chart notes from the last time this happens, it appears I have corneal hydrops, which starts manifesting as dry eyes and quickly progresses into significant eye irritation, light sensitivity, and extreme tearing (the other day tears literally started jetting from my eyes when I woke up). In my case, these symptoms also come alongside sinus symptoms on my left side -- so my left nostril is running and I have pain in my left orbital socket and along the teeth the upper left part of my jaw.

Being "sick" (I'll address the quotation marks in a moment) is never fun, but it is far less fun when you have an infant in your care. When it's just you and/or your fellow adult companion, you can kind of slough off your responsibilities temporarily until you're feeling better. No reasonable person will hold it against you if you push back a deadline or skip out on making dinner. In most cases, your loved ones will be able to shuffle some of their responsibilities around to help you. You get taken care of.

But an infant is, of course, quite needy, and it can't press pause on its needs to accommodate yours. If I need to tap out of my evening care shift, my wife has to take it, and then she isn't getting the sleep she needs. If we need to go to the doctor's and I'm not up to driving, then she has to drive, which means he has to come and she has to be up to driving, which, again, is harder when she's getting even less sleep than normal because I'm out of commission. The normal feeling of bodily vulnerability is accentuated because one also feels a little more trapped than usual. There's an extra layer of emotional unpleasantness that is a poor complement to the physical unpleasantness.

The saving grace right now is that I don't have an infection or anything else that could be transmitted to my baby. So at least I don't have to worry about that.

But in classic me-form, that got me thinking about linguistics. How do I generically (but not too generically) describe my condition? Stipulate that "not feeling well" is the umbrella generic term covering all health related reasons why one might, well, not feel well. Under that umbrella, there are some more specific terms.

For example, saying I'm "sick" feels wrong because sickness, to me, refers to an infection. If I told people I was "sick", they'd immediately assume I had some sort of bug. Perhaps more broadly it can include being made unwell by any foreign substance (hence why food poisoning or, for that matter, regular poisoning still to me qualifies one as being "sick"), but it still wouldn't fit what's happening here.

Likewise, Jill suggested "injured". But that for me suggests some discrete moment of trauma that I endured. If I got hit in the eye with a baseball and it felt like this, then I'd be injured. A flare-up of a chronic condition, not triggered by anything particular I'm aware of, doesn't seem to fit.

So -- if your chronic condition does develop a novel complication that makes one feel especially unwell, what are you. Not sick, not injured. "Ailing" also works, but feels too Victorian. Is that the best we can do?