2010年3月18日星期四

You gotta be a Patriot before a leftist......

Michael Foot obituary
Principled leader who held Labour together in the early 1980s, and a writer devoted to the cause of freedom
(Guardian 3rd March 2010)

In a long career, Michael Foot, who has died aged 96, served the Labour party as its leader in opposition from 1980 to 1983, as deputy leader, and as a cabinet minister under Harold Wilson and James Callaghan. He graced the Commons as an independent-minded backbencher, and was widely acclaimed as one of the most principled British politicians of his era. A distinguished journalist and author, he devoted his life not only to the rights and traditions of parliament, but to freedom in all its aspects.




During Wilson's first government (1964-70), Foot had been a fierce backbench critic on issues ranging from wage restraint to Vietnam and Rhodesia. However, when Labour lost power to Edward Heath's Conservative government, Foot accepted a place on the opposition front bench and carried the burden of the fight against British entry into the European Economic Community. With Labour back in office again from February 1974 and submitting renegotiated terms to a European referendum in 1975, he campaigned for a no vote. Uniquely, cabinet ministers were allowed to campaign on opposite sides. Foot was then secretary of state for employment, and won an unexpected reputation for administrative ability. When he left the department, a civil servant paid him a memorable, backhanded compliment: "You posed a quite exceptional challenge to my powers of obstruction."



In two years, Foot restored trade union rights lost in the Tory industrial relations act of 1971, legitimised the closed shop against furious opposition from Fleet Street, created the Advisory, Conciliation and Arbitration Service (Acas) and the Health and Safety Executive, and played a major role in forging the "social contract" between the government and the unions. In 1976, however, Wilson retired suddenly, Callaghan defeated Foot in the leadership contest and Foot became – though not formally – deputy prime minister, with the posts of lord president of the council and leader of the Commons.



His experience from 1976 to 1979 was in general unhappy, as was that of the government. Byelection defeats cost Labour its majority and its life was prolonged only by deals with the Liberals and other minor parties, which Foot negotiated skilfully but which alienated his erstwhile comrades on the left. Economic problems persisted, unemployment rose and the social contract broke down. Devolution for Scotland and Wales, a project for which Foot worked devotedly, foundered in referendums. After a wave of strikes, remembered as "the winter of discontent", the Tories regained power in 1979 under Margaret Thatcher.



Callaghan retired in 1980. In the last leadership election confined to MPs – the party was preparing to switch to an electoral college – Foot narrowly defeated Denis Healey. Many friends and admirers thought him ill-advised to seek the leadership, which indeed brought him no laurels. But the ultimate judgment may well be that he performed the vital service of holding his party together when it was dangerously polarised between Healey and Tony Benn.



He had little chance of further successes. Rejecting his pleas, 25 Labour MPs joined the new Social Democratic party. Also rejecting Foot's pleas, Benn stood against Healey for the deputy leadership, plunging the party into a damaging struggle. As the first Labour leader lacking majority support in the national executive committee, which was dominated by Benn's allies, Foot was deprived of authority. The activities of the Militant Tendency caused constant trouble. Then, in 1982, Thatcher's triumph in the Falklands war ensured her political supremacy.



For Foot, the election campaign of 1983 was a disaster. He was hobbled by visible disagreements in Labour's ranks, outflanked by the SDP-Liberal alliance, brutally attacked and ridiculed by the press, and disadvantaged by his age (he was almost 70) and his difficulty in adapting to modern television techniques. At 28%, Labour's share of the poll was the lowest since the 1920s. Foot immediately gave up his party leadership, to be succeeded by Neil Kinnock.



Michael Mackintosh Foot – Mackintosh was his Scottish mother's maiden name – was the fifth of seven children of the phenomenal Isaac Foot, a solicitor by profession, collector of 50,000 valuable books, lord mayor of Plymouth, Liberal MP for two short spells and an ardent Methodist and temperance campaigner. Michael was born at the family home, 1 Lipson Terrace, Plymouth. As the house overlooks Freedom Fields, the site of a civil war battle in which the defenders of the parliamentary cause defeated a royalist attack, it was a fitting birthplace for a man committed to liberty.



He was educated at Leighton Park, in Reading, Berkshire, a fee-paying but heterodox school founded by Quakers, and at Wadham College, Oxford, where he took a second-class degree in classics, breakfasted with such visitors as David Lloyd George and Bertrand Russell, and was in 1933 elected president of the union. Four Foot brothers were presidents of either the Oxford or the Cambridge Union.



Taking up an uncongenial job with a shipping firm in Liverpool, Foot rebelled against the family liberalism and joined the Labour party. When a general election was called in 1935, he walked into Labour's headquarters, asked for a list of constituencies that needed candidates, and was adopted the next day for Monmouth. Politics was simpler in those days. He scored a decent vote against an unbeatable sitting Tory.



Settling in London and aiming at a career in journalism, he was given a try-out at the New Statesman, but Kingsley Martin, the editor, decided that he was less than brilliant. He joined the staff of Tribune, founded in 1937 by Stafford Cripps as a mouthpiece for his leftwing ideas. Association with Tribune and with Cripps's Socialist League brought Foot two friendships – with Aneurin Bevan, MP for Ebbw Vale, regarded by the younger man with fervent admiration, and with another Tribune writer, Barbara Betts, later and better known after she married as Barbara Castle.



In 1938 Cripps arbitrarily sacked Tribune's editor, William Mellor, and offered Foot the job. It was a tempting opportunity for a 25-year-old, but Foot declined to succeed an editor who had been treated unfairly. Bevan opened the way to another opportunity by mentioning him to Lord Beaverbook as "a young knight-errant" and advising: "Have a look at him." Beaverbrook gave Foot a quick memory test – his recall of anything from byelection figures to Wordsworth sonnets was exceptional – and then work as a feature writer on the London Evening Standard.



Then and later, Foot's affection for Beaverbrook embarrassed socialists who saw the proprietor of Express newspapers as the embodiment of reaction and evil. At various times, Beaverbrook paid Foot an inflated salary, sent unexpected cheques, invited him for holidays at his villa on the French Riviera, lent him a cottage on his estate in Surrey, and rescued Tribune when a libel suit threatened it with extinction.



Foot was on the Beaverbrook payroll when war came. From the Commons press gallery, he listened to the debate that drove Neville Chamberlain from Downing Street. With Winston Churchill in power, Beaverbrook switched from his support for appeasement to defiance of the Nazi threat, voiced in eloquent Standard leaders written by Foot.



Those leaders were as erudite as they were eloquent, quoting within two months from Pericles, Cato, the Bible, Shakespeare, Milton, Edward Gibbon, Louis Saint-Just, Walt Whitman, Giuseppe Mazzini and Joseph Conrad (the "always facing it" passage in Typhoon, deployed again by Foot in a party conference speech in 1975).



But it was also time to denounce the politicians who had landed Britain in this peril. Foot and two other Beaverbrook journalists, concealed by the pseudonym "Cato", wrote a 40,000-word book, Guilty Men, over a weekend in 1940. They also sold it from a stall in Farringdon Road, central London, when bookshops refused to stock it. The ultimate sale was an astonishing 200,000.



In 1942, Foot became acting editor of the Standard but left it two years later, realising that he and Beaverbrook would be antagonists in postwar politics, and began a column in the Daily Herald. In 1945, upsetting expert forecasts as thoroughly as the Labour party did at national level, he became MP for the Devonport division of Plymouth. The campaign occasioned his first meeting with Jill Craigie, the documentary film-maker, who was making a film about the rebuilding of heavily bombed Plymouth. They were married four years later.



Foot returned to Tribune as editor (1948-52, and again 1955-60) and was soon strongly critical, in its columns and in Commons speeches, of Ernest Bevin's foreign policy. With Richard Crossman and Ian Mikardo, he had produced the 1947 pamphlet Keep Left and started the Keep Left group of backbenchers. But, after holding Devonport in contests with Randolph Churchill in 1950 and 1951, he lost it in 1955 to Joan Vickers. When the result was announced, he said to Jill: "Now I can write that book."



The book in question – Foot's fifth, but his first non-topical work – was The Pen and the Sword, a study of an episode in the life of Jonathan Swift. Foot always straddled the literary and political worlds, and in this period away from Westminster, he thought seriously of concentrating on the former. That year, 1957, he was drawn into passionate controversy over nuclear disarmament. Bevan's repudiation of unilateralism at the party conference that year made Foot its outstanding champion. He was a founder of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) and a regular Aldermaston marcher.



Bevan died in 1960, after urging Foot to return to the Commons and telling him: "Perhaps you needn't look further than Ebbw Vale." Foot was selected for the byelection there and won it, at the height of the battle beween CND and Hugh Gaitskell, the party leader, on a unilateralist platform. After taking his seat, he was deprived of the whip for voting against the defence estimates, but it was restored when Gaitskell died in 1963 and Wilson became leader.



After stepping down as party leader, Foot stayed in the Commons until 1992. Although some of his Ebbw Vale constituents had blamed him for the closure of their steelworks in 1975 (when, unfortunately, he was secretary of state for employment), he had been a greatly loved as well as an assiduous constituency MP. He kept, and continued to visit, an old cottage in Tredegar where he had held his surgeries for 31 years.



Foot was happy in his marriage to a beautiful and gifted woman (though they regretted the lack of children), in a wealth of friendships, and in an extraordinary range of interests. As a writer, he had three major works to his credit: The Pen and the Sword, his two-volume biography of Bevan (1962 and 1973), and The Politics of Paradise (1988), an impressively scholarly book on Byron. In this sphere, he never retired. He spent three years delving into the life of HG Wells, whom he had read enthusiastically in his youth and met in the 1940s. The result was The History of Mr Wells (1995). A book on the nuclear arms race – Dr Strangelove, I Presume – warning of conflict between India and Pakistan, appeared in 1999. His last book was The Uncollected Michael Foot (2003).



As a young man, Foot was plagued by asthma and eczema. He almost lost his life in a car accident in 1963, which left him with his characteristic, lopsided walk. In 1976, after an attack of shingles, he lost the sight of one eye. Yet he was essentially, as Jill liked to say, "as tough as old boots". She died in 1999.



Neil Kinnock writes: Michael was a supreme parliamentary democrat who used his great gifts as an inspiring speaker and writer to urge peace, security, prosperity and opportunity for humanity and punishment for bigots and bullies of every kind.



His bravery and generosity were unsurpassed. He used both to ensure that the Labour party survived as a political force when self-indulgent factionalism could have doomed it to irrelevance.



He was a resolute humanist with profound faith in the ability of "free men and women using free institutions" to secure irreversible advances in standards of living and liberty for every country and community.



He was a friend to all who strove against want and injustice, an inveterate enemy of exploitation and greed. He was ferocious and funny, principled but never precious, courteous but never deferential, provocative but never vindictive, creative but never abstract. "Describe the challenges by all means," he said, "but don't confuse analysis with action. The one must lead to the other if it is to be useful to people."



His passions stretched from his adored wife to Plymouth Argyle, through poets and polemicists of every romantic and rousing kind, and from Mozart to the bouncy melodies of the 1930s – although he was a lousy dancer and a truly appalling singer.



Michael gave love and earned love as few politicians do in any age. He was wonderful company, a marvellous comrade, a magnificent man, a great socialist and libertarian. The only tribute that he would want, the only memorial that would do him justice, is enduring application of his values in the cause of progress.


坐看雲起時 Next Magazine (18 March 2010- Tsao Chip)



悼一位真左派



工黨前領袖傅特(Michael Foot)高齡逝世,享壽九十六歲,在英國引起一陣哄動。

傅特是一位硬腰骨的真左派。雖然「左派」兩個字,無論古今中外,往好處說,是一批理想主義者和熱血分子,但在科學上是愚昧的同義詞。然而,傅特逝世,大政治家戴卓爾夫人也發表聲明:「他是一個很有原則的人,也是一位傑出的議會家。」

「傑出的議會家」,是很恰當的讚頌。議會家Parliamentarian,而不是議員(MP)——選舉勝利,進身國會,可以做幾十年庸碌無為的後座議員,但傅特雖然從來沒有當過權,口才卓越,堅持幾十年人權和自由的理想,卻擁有比議員更大的影響力。雖然他的政見,像提倡全民社會主義福利,認為西方在冷戰時期應該解除核武器,懼怕蘇聯,以為這樣就能「感動」北極熊一起追求和平,外交政見尤為幼稚。但在國內,他提倡平等,身體力行,不貪污,不受賄,一生清寒,拿一根手杖,放小狗,在倫敦居所外的哈姆斯特草園孤獨散步的形象,早已成為民主的人文風景。

傅特是左派記者出身,三十年代參加過自由知識分子論政的「費邊社」,那時候,崇拜蘇聯,在英國是一陣流行的豬流感,連哲學家羅素也不例外。羅素是知識分子的偶像,看見美國在日本投擲了兩顆原子彈,然後蘇聯相繼擁有核武器,嚇死了,力倡西方解除核武裝,希望以理性的善意換取蘇聯的感動和諒解。

羅素的影響太大了,傅特是羅素思想的傳人。工黨六七十年代,外則親蘇,內則主張開庫房派錢、向中產階級加稅,卻又嚇怕了性好中庸的英國選民,在執政的現實下左搖右擺。七十年代,工黨首相威爾遜兩度當選,後神秘落台,據說是內閣遭蘇共滲透,美國中情局發覺了。傅特是工黨內部的左翼,自命威爾遜的繼承人。即使工黨,也人才濟濟,傅特還是一位文學批評家,他喜歡拜倫和浪漫主義詩歌,就像早年的共產黨人情迷普希金,傅特太左了,上台執政,此生絕不可能。如果他生在第三世界,早就以異見分子之身下獄,好在他是英國公民,政見受一個高尚的制度保障,生榮死哀,這是人和畜生的分別。

八十年代,戴卓爾夫人是首相,姿態是鷹派,傅特在國會的另一邊,以左派理想主義者自居。兩人都有出眾的口才,在國會辯論,一正一邪(視乎閣下的立場來標籤),對立尖銳,唇槍舌劍,火花四濺,簡直是長篇的舞台劇。

八十年代,本人躬逢其盛,在英國生活,時時身在國會的新聞席,領教兩大演說家的交鋒。「五嶽歸來不看山,黃山歸來不看嶽」,在英國看過世界第一流的政治家辯論,就像在日本帝國酒店餐廳,吃過上等的和牛,回到香港聽見一伙三等精英的垃圾口水戰,又怎會看得入眼?就像美食家一樣,第一流的政論家,一要見識,二要懂得分辨佳餚和劣菜,要崇優,三要對垃圾食品無情炮轟,不給面子。沒有辦法,浸過兩年鹹水,就像在美國吃過第一流的牛扒,回來香港的茶餐廳,面對充牛扒的袋鼠肉,自然要拍桌子叫經理,這是美食家一絲不苟的專業態度。

傅特一生人的政見方向都錯了,但老朽凋謝,不論生前有多少政敵,大家對他交口讚譽,這是可貴的民主精神。「我不同意你的話,但我誓死捍你說出你的意見的權利。」戴卓爾夫人從心底裡看不起傅特,覺得此君書讀得愈多愈蠢,但也敬仰他的不屈和執。傅特終身不貪財,不好色,婚姻生活正常,老婆還是英國女權歷史的學者(這種女人怎樣娶得下手?我絕對無法理解,但人各有所好,自也應當尊重),可稱為英國的司徒華。

傅特選首相,挑戰戴卓爾,在一九八三年,那時他年近七十,來到我讀書的大學拉票演講。老頭子形象貧寒,一頭半禿的白髮在風中飄揚,一副黑框深度近視眼鏡,一件舊絨單吊西,即使在電腦網絡前的時代,遍地都是電視攝影機,這種形象,形同政治自殺。但傅特從來沒有進入過電子世代的做騷風氣,他講話聲如洪鐘,激情瀰漫,雖六、七十歲,其浪漫的追求仍如二十齡許的少年,外貌與性格不相襯,甚令人欣賞。我們聽了他的演講,跟他到學生會的酒吧座談,他一反激昂的姿態,談笑風生,令人傾倒。許多中國人,二十多歲已是小老頭,活到四十歲,就已經滑頭模糊,全無稜角,只懂得在權貴面前點頭哈腰,這種性格土壤,不會產生真正的民主。

傅特講話,煽動力甚強,每一句的末兩三隻字向上飛揚,掀動觀眾情緒,自然引發滿場掌聲。即使不同意他的政見,聽他一場演說,有如看見詩人雪萊在你面前吟誦一次《西風頌》,有洗滌靈魂之神效。當然往理性深想一層,下一秒鐘你就會發覺他的膚淺:單方面解除核武裝,討好蘇聯,是與虎謀皮。傅特以英國文化之心,度東方獨裁之腹,大錯特錯,印度聖雄甘地,可以堅持不抵抗的基督教精神,驅逐英國的殖民主義者,但英國是君子的國度,而蘇聯,卻是流氓之故鄉。

如此政綱,大選當然一敗塗地。英國選民雖然不滿戴卓爾削減社會福利,但一聽到傅特的言論,心中恐慌。傅特在下議院發表過長達二十分鐘的演講,批判戴卓爾夫人對蘇聯強硬,主張核撤軍,這篇演說,像列寧再世,再雄辯滔滔也無濟於事,被稱為「史上最著名的自殺式演講」。傅特選首相,以議會史上罕見低票數大敗。明知必敗,卻也一往直前,傅特不管,只忠於自己的信仰,終究是一位光明磊落的君子。

民主社會需要這種人。不一定要投票給他,但總要有人在理想的高地,暮鼓晨鐘,時時發出人性善良的警告,令資本主義不要自我縱容。傅特太左,把工黨內的中庸勢力嚇跑。一九八一年,前外相歐文、元老曾健時、女強人威廉士夫人,連同一個叫羅渣士的骨幹,眼看不對勁,宣布退黨,自稱四人幫,另組社會民主黨。此一黨內分裂,更削弱了工黨,把一大堆選票分拆出來,令戴卓爾夫人坐收漁利。最後,社會民主黨卻又勢孤力單,與萎縮了幾十年的自由黨合併,搞得不三不四,一直未能振興。

傅特是貝理雅的師傅,當年他推許貝理雅,指他是最可靠的接班人。傅特反核武器,貝理雅也在背面幫腔,就像年輕時的李登輝跟在蔣經國身後。傅特輸了大選,黯然讓位,工黨還經歷過兩任領袖:一個叫金諾克,大選再輸一次;另一個叫史密夫,向右修正一點,可惜心臟病發暴斃。輪到貝理雅繼任,他知道工黨不可以再抱殘走傅特的左派道路,把工黨向市場經濟和親美的方向猛力扭轉,一方面也是為自己過去親蘇的劣績洗底。戴卓爾夫人拍掌叫好,傅特更加沉默了,他親眼看自己的信仰老來被歷史的潮流埋葬,滋味不好受,但看得開,深居簡出,瞎了一隻眼睛,閒來著書為樂。

傅特逝世,真正是結束了一個世代:雍雅、善良、風度、傾倒眾生的口才。好在他當不了首相,否則必是世界的災難,但在一個美好的世界,有這種人在荒野同行,會令人覺得不枉此生。他佝僂的背影,揮動的手杖,他的小狗,一地草香和漫天星光。

2010年3月10日星期三

現代化理論的當頭棒喝︰Seymour Lipset 可以休矣?

The Other Middle Class; The world's burgeoning bourgeoisie may be a market for our goods—but don't expect them to buy into our values.


Rana Foroohar and Mac Margolis

15 March 2010

Newsweek

March 15, 2010; ; U.S. Edition

Volume 155, Number 11

Middle classes have always been the bulwark of society. Aristotle believed they are democracy’s secret weapon—the defenders of social values, ramparts of reason over fiat, and believers in a society run by laws instead of by strongmen. They have also been the engines of economic growth, setting the stage centuries ago for the expansion of capitalism and global trade, and continuing to snap up every new gadget or service in sight. So, it’s no wonder that as Western middle classes have become indebted and insecure, economists are pinning their hopes for global prosperity on the new emerging-market middle class, a group of go-getters who, it’s hoped, will make the world richer and more stable.



Those two goals, however, may be at odds. As an economic force, this new population is indeed growing even faster than expected. Every year, an astonishing 70 million people are joining the middle class. (In emerging markets, this is defined by Goldman Sachs as people with yearly incomes between $6,000 and $30,000.) They have become “the story of the decade,” says Goldman Sachs’s chief economist Jim O’Neill, and will surpass their Western peers in global spending power within two decades. Morgan Stanley Asia chair Stephen Roach believes that within five to 10 years, the Asian middle class alone could make up the slack left by overspent American consumers. Chinese bought more cars than Americans did last year, and India has as many Internet users as the United States. By 2030 more than nine of every 10 mobile phones will be owned by people in the developing world, with India and China leading the way.



As these developing nations became more prosperous, they were expected to look more and more like the suburbs of Washington or London—liberal, democratic, and market-friendly bastions not only of Western-style consumerism but also political liberty. With time and wealth, “they” would become just like “us.” But while the size of their wallets is becoming more American, the values of this global middle class aren’t necessarily doing the same.



Even in countries that are democratic, these new bourgeoisies looks quite different from their Western peers. In Turkey, for example, much of the middle class are devout Muslims who wear headscarves. When President Obama visits Indonesia later this month, he’ll find a more conservative country than the one he lived in as a child—in large part because of the rise of the newly rich there.



Many of the aspiring elite seem comfortable with the political status quo in their nations, willing to let the powers that be—whether authoritarian governments or elected ones—call the shots as long as the economy keeps growing. A 2009 Pew study on the global middle class found that most are supportive of democratic ideas like free speech and competitive elections, yet experts at Pew and elsewhere say this group is also willing to compromise on those ideals when they seem to threaten prosperity. In Brazil and Russia, the middle classes are more worried about being free from hunger than voting. And in China, rural people who still see little benefit from their nation’s economic growth are more likely to support democracy than the urban middle classes, who now make up three fourths of Communist Party cadres.



This political conservatism is growing rather than shrinking. More Russians today support “a strong leader” over “democracy” than did 10 years ago—no wonder, given the corruption, inequity, and plunge in average living standards that followed the collapse of the Soviet Union. The members of Russia’s new middle class are among the staunchest supporters of strongman Vladimir Putin for the simple reason that they have the most to lose. “Like the rest of society, the middle class has accepted the paternalism of Putin’s government and remained apolitical and apathetic,” says Masha Lipman of the Carnegie Moscow Center. In China, the middle class was much more in favor of political liberalization before the 1989 Tiananmen massacre than it is today.



In fact, in countries like China and Brazil, which have fared well in the financial crisis, there’s a feeling that Western models are no longer something to emulate. “The Asian crisis was a turning point in that sense,” says Brookings Institution fellow Homi Kharas, who studies the new global middle class. “These countries began pursuing liberalization in their own way, at their own pace, and they’ve done well. Now they see their success as the fruit of their own efforts,” even though they’re operating within global systems of free trade and finance that were set up by the West.



Of course, no major emerging market is turning its back on free trade or financial capitalism—leaders recognize all too well the source of their prosperity. But as long as countries like China and Brazil continue to do well, more state control, rather than less, is likely to become the norm. The emerging-market giants will also be more aggressive about standing up for themselves, economically and politically. “In China, for example, the younger, richer generation has more hubris, and increasingly they are the ones in charge,” notes John Lee, a visiting fellow at the Hudson Institute in Washington. “They’ll push harder to defend the country’s interests in areas like trade, resource acquisition, and foreign policy.” Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, and many other nations are similarly displaying a new political confidence, driven by their greater economic power.



Does that mean that the interests of these new middle classes will be at odds with their counterparts in the West? Perhaps, but the newcomers are just as likely to be in political and economic competition with each other. Ruchir Sharma, the emerging-markets chief at Morgan Stanley Investment Management, believes that old rivalries will be replaced by new ones—Indians, for example, are becoming less obsessed about Pakistan and more worried about the rise of China. Likewise, old friendships between countries like India and Russia will cool as those nations grow and develop in different ways, and have less common ground.



It’s also worth remembering that the new middle classes are psychologically driven by a mix of pride and insecurity. They are largely still on fragile economic footing. Many in Brazil’s new middle class owe their livelihoods to the informal market (47 percent have no job contracts), where income is irregular, safety nets are nonexistent, and opportunity for entrepreneurship is limited. Many have borrowed their way to higher living standards—one reason, perhaps, that 53 percent say they live in fear of unemployment, loss of income, or bankruptcy. They have benefited from the explosion of private schools but seen the quality of education plummet, thus eroding one of the classic middle-class paths to social mobility. “We still don’t know how sustainable the rise of the new middle classes will be,” says political scientist Amaury de Souza.



And to the extent that the new middle classes are precarious, their ability to effect political change will be, too. Some development economists predict that in these countries, the poor may end up being the greater force for social change in the short and medium term. (Consider the push for land reform among rural leaders in China.) They are the agitators who haven’t yet seen gains from the status quo. The developing world’s new consumers may have unleashed tremendous new energy at the checkout counter. But their ability to be a force for better government, greater freedom, less corruption, and more economic liberty is far less certain.

With Owen Matthews in Moscow and Kristin Minogue in Beijing

2010年3月3日星期三

Proud to be LEFT !


好文轉貼: 左人係"醒"D?(1)

 (Source: Time Magazine, March edition, 2010)

The notion that liberals are smarter than conservatives is familiar to anyone who has spent time on a college campus. The College Democrats are said to be ugly, smug and intellectual; the College Republicans, pretty, belligerent and dumb. There's enough truth in both stereotypes that the vast majority of college students opt not to join either club.

But are liberals actually smarter? A libertarian (and, as such, nonpartisan) researcher, Satoshi Kanazawa of the London School of Economics and Political Science, has just written a paper that is set to be published in March by the journal Social Psychology Quarterly. The paper investigates not only whether conservatives are dumber than liberals but also why that might be so.

The short answer: Kanazawa's paper shows that more-intelligent people are more likely to say they are liberal. They are also less likely to say they go to religious services. These aren't entirely new findings; last year, for example, a British team found that kids with high intelligence scores were more likely to grow into adults who vote for Liberal Democrats, even after the researchers controlled for socioeconomics. What's new in Kanazawa's paper is a provocative theory about why intelligence might correlate with liberalism. He argues that smarter people are more willing to espouse "evolutionarily novel" values — that is, values that did not exist in our ancestral environment, including weird ideas about, say, helping genetically unrelated strangers (liberalism, as Kanazawa defines it), which never would have occurred to us back when we had to hunt to feed our own clan and our only real technology was fire.

Kanazawa offers this view of how such novel values sprang up in our ancestors: Imagine you are a caveman (if it helps, you are wearing a loincloth and have never shaved). Lightning strikes a tree near your cave, and fire threatens. What do you do? Natural selection would have favored the smart specimen who could quickly conceive answers to such a problem (or other rare catastrophes like sudden drought or flood), even if — or maybe especially if — those answers were unusual ones that few others in your tribe could generate. So, the theory goes, genes for intelligence got wrapped up with genes for unnatural thinking.

It's an elegant theory, but based on Kanazawa's own evidence, I'm not sure he's right. In his paper, Kanazawa begins by noting, accurately, that psychologists don't have a good understanding of why people embrace the values they do. Many kids share their parents' values, but at the same time many adolescents define themselves in opposition to what their parents believe. We know that most people firm up their values when they are in their 20s, but some people experience conversions to new religions, new political parties, new artistic tastes and even new cuisines after middle age. As Kanazawa notes, this multiplicity of views — a multiplicity you find within both cultures and individuals — is one reason economists have largely abandoned the study of values with a single Latin phrase, De gustibus non est disputandum: there's no accounting for taste.

Kanazawa doesn't disagree, but he believes scientists can account for whether people like new tastes or old, radical tastes or Establishment ones. He points out that there's a strong correlation between liberalims and openness to new kinds of experiences. But openness to new experience isn't necessarily intelligent (cocaine is fun; accidental cocaine overdose is not).

So are liberals smarter? Kanazawa quotes from two surveys that support the hypothesis that liberals are more intelligent. One is the National Longitudinal Study of Adolescent Health, which is often called Add Health. The other is the General Social Suvery (GSS). The Add Health study shows that the mean IQ of adolescents who identify themselves as "very liberal" is 106, compared with a mean IQ of 95 for those calling themselves "very conservative." The Add Health study is huge — more than 20,000 kids — and this difference is highly statistically significant.

But self-identification is often misleading; do kids really know what it means to be liberal? The GSS data are instructive here: Kanazawa found that more-intelligent GSS respondents (as measured by a quick but highly reliable synonym test) were less likely to agree that the government has a responsibility to reduce income and wealth differences. In other words, intelligent people might like to portray themselves as liberal. But in the end, they know that it's good to be the king.

The jury may be out on whether conservatives are less intelligent than liberals, but there's evidence that they may be physically stronger. Last year, the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences published a fascinating paper by Aaron Sell, John Tooby and Leda Cosmides of the Center for Evolutionary Psychology at the University of California at Santa Barbara. The authors measured the strength of 343 students using weight-lifting machines at a gym. The participating students completed questionnaires designed to measure, among other things, their proneness to anger, their history of fighting and their fondness for aggression as a way to solve both individual and geopolitical problems.

Sell, Tooby and Cosmides found that men (but not women) with the most physical strength were the most likely to feel entitled to good treatment, anger easily, view themselves as successful in winning conflicts and believe in physical force as a tool for resolving interpersonal and international conflicts. Women who thought of themselves as pretty showed the same pattern of greater aggression. All of which means that if you are a liberal who believes you're smarter than conservatives, you probably shouldn't bring that up around them. You might not like them when they're angry.

(1) 陶生,此言差矣
"但歐巴馬還是有性格的殘障。他是一名左派。在西方,智商高超的人,一定不會是左仔,左邊這條路,充滿艷麗的花朵和青青的小草,景色優美,是用來騙蠢人的,以及讓第三世界一些半吊子知識份子親美趕時髦模仿。小黑子野夠了嗎?快快快,該回家吃晚飯了。 "

(Source: Tsao, Chip. Apply Daily 16 March 2010)