T

his past Monday, the White 
House 
Correspondents’ 
Association 
announced 
it would be departing 
from its usual tradition 
of inviting a comedian to 
roast the president and 
the press corps at next 
year’s 
annual 
White 
House Correspondents’ 
Dinner. Instead, in a 
controversial decision, 
the organization has 
invited 
renowned 
historian Ron Chernow 
to deliver a speech 
on First Amendment rights and 
freedom of the press. Though these 
topics are certainly relevant to 
today’s volatile political climate and 
the strained relationship between 
the media and the President 
Donald Trump’s administration, 
the WHCA’s decision to stray from 
a decades old tradition ultimately 
compromises the very principles 
upon which the association was 
founded.
There are plenty of reasons why 
the WHCA should continue to host 
comedians at its annual dinner, but 
let’s first start with the obvious—the 
comedy roast is literally the only 
notable part of the event.
The 
annual 
White 
House 
Correspondents’ dinner is an ornate 
black-tie spectacle during which 
journalists and politicians get to 
schmooze with A-list Hollywood 
celebrities and athletes. For many 
of us, the event is simply a reminder 
of the stark divide between the elite 
and regular, everyday Americans. 
But for a mere 20 minutes or so, the 
unforgiving comedy roast reminds 
us that the rich and powerful are 
human, and they are not invincible. 
From the late Steve Bridges’ uncanny 
George W. Bush impression to Seth 
Meyers’s relentless mocking of 
then-candidate Trump’s “birther” 
controversy, 
America’s 
most 
beloved comedians have shown us 
even presidents and billionaires are 
not immune to the sting of satire.
Though public regard for the 
dinner is sure to dwindle following 
the WHCA’s recent deviation from 
tradition, perhaps the greatest 
fallout from this decision is the press’ 
symbolic gesture of submission to 
the Trump administration.
It is a dangerous time for the 

media. Since his 2016 presidential 
campaign, Trump has demonstrated 
his inability to coexist peacefully 
with journalists who 
criticize 
the 
current 
administration. 
Not 
only has he publicly 
denounced major news 
outlets like CNN and 
The New York Times, 
severely compromising 
public 
trust 
in 
the 
media, but our president 
has gone as far as to 
threaten to eradicate 
press briefings entirely. 
Time and time again, he has shown 
a blatant disregard for the principles 
that are not only foundational to 
our nation’s Constitution but also 
essential to the preservation of a 
healthy democracy.

The WHCA was established in 
response to a growing fear regarding 
a lack of independence between the 
White House press corps and the 
government itself. The WHCA is 
an independent organization, and 
its annual dinner is meant to be a 
celebration of the freedom of speech 
and the press.
Virtually every president has 
issues with the press, but Trump’s 
tense relations with the media are 
unparalleled. Since the start of his 
term, Trump has skipped both 
WHCDs, making him the first 
president in 36 years who has not 
attended the event. Hasan Minhaj 
put it bluntly in his 2017 WHCD 
roast 
when 
he 
acknowledged 
Trump’s absence, stating “I think 
he’s in Pennsylvania because he 
can’t take a joke.”
Historically, 
the 
president 
has been a centerpiece of the 
dinner. His presence represents 
an important and foundational 
principle in this nation: The 

government 
will 
protect 
journalistic integrity and refrain 
from scrutiny or interference. 
In refusing to attend the event, 
Trump is not only breaking a 
decades-old tradition, but he is 
solidifying this administration’s 
continual unwillingness to respect 
an independent, free media.
At the center of this contentious 
decision to substitute a comedy 
roast for a history lesson is 
comedian Michelle Wolf who drew 
criticism for her controversial 
routine at the 2018 dinner. Despite 
Trump’s two-year-long boycott 
of the event, the WHCA’s recent 
announcement has prompted the 
president to reconsider, tweeting, 
“Good first step in comeback of 
a dying evening and tradition! 
Maybe I will go?”
The fact that the WHCA, 
an organization comprised of 
well-educated and experienced 
writers, cannot see the irony in 
its recent decision to forgo the 
comedy roast is a bit jarring. 
The WHCA may think by 
eradicating 
a 
controversial 
part 
of 
its 
annual 
dinner, 
it 
is 
mending 
a 
strained 
relationship with the current 
administration, but it is not. 
Getting rid of a long-held and 
important tradition simply to 
appease a president who “can’t 
take a joke” is not a compromise; 
it is a concession, and we should 
all be concerned. 
This is not the time to bow 
down to Trump’s demands. Now 
more than ever, it is essential 
that the press maintain their 
integrity and independence. The 
WHCD’s comedy roast may seem 
like a trivial concession in the 
grand scheme of things, but it is 
reflective of an important and 
growing threat to our nation’s 
First 
Amendment. 
The 
press 
cannot allow intimidation from 
the 
government 
to 
influence 
their actions, no matter how 
insignificant.
If the president of the United 
States won’t attend a dinner 
because he “can’t take a joke,” so 
be it. Carry on with the jokes.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Thursday, November 29, 2018

Emma Chang
Ben Charlson
Joel Danilewitz
Samantha Goldstein
Emily Huhman

Tara Jayaram
Jeremy Kaplan
Lucas Maiman
Magdalena Mihaylova
Ellery Rosenzweig
Jason Rowland

Anu Roy-Chaudhury
Alex Satola
Ali Safawi
Ashley Zhang
Sam Weinberger

DAYTON HARE
Managing Editor

420 Maynard St. 
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
 tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.

ALEXA ST. JOHN
Editor in Chief
 ANU ROY-CHAUDHURY AND 
ASHLEY ZHANG
Editorial Page Editors

Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board. 
All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

The WHCA has surrendered to Trump

AMANDA ZHANG | COLUMN

Amanda Zhang can be reached at 

amanzhan@umich.edu.

A

lbion, 
Mich., 
is 
an 
underwhelming 
place 
for someone from Metro 
Detroit. Aside from the small — 
very small — private liberal arts 
college that bears the city’s name, 
there is not much else. Beyond 
Albion College’s campus, you will 
find rows of dilapidated houses 
with peeling paint. Driving through 
Albion, you get a sense that the city 
has seen much better days. In fact, 
if you drive through any number of 
Michigan cities, you get the same 
feeling. Detroit’s ongoing comeback 
story is a towering achievement for 
the state, but outside of the economic 
engines of southeast Michigan and 
Grand Rapids, the picture is not an 
optimistic one. Cities like Albion, 
Jackson and Monroe do not have 
their own comeback stories.
Albion is located in Calhoun 
County, which also contains Battle 
Creek, home of Kellogg’s Cereal. 
One of the 17 counties in Michigan 
where there are more prescriptions 
than there are people, Calhoun 
County has one of the highest rates 
of opioid prescriptions in the state. 
When the media covers the opioid 
epidemic, they depict working class 
folk in rural and rundown urban 
areas devoid of hope. It’s the same 
stereotypical habitat of Donald 
Trump voters, but that is another 
matter for another time.
Now, 
there 
is 
a 
common 
sentiment that criticizes American 
society for meeting the current drug 
crisis with empathy and concern: 
a stark contrast to the police 
crackdown and demonization of 
people of color during the crack 
epidemic of the 1980s and 1990s. 
There is no question that the racist 
War on Drugs has destroyed and 
continues to destroy Black and 
Latino lives and families. It is 
deeply unfortunate that the U.S. 
did not take the same approach 
with crack as we are taking with 
opioids, an approach rooted in 
public health instead of criminal 
justice. Ta-Nehisi Coates author 
of the bestseller “Between the 
World and Me”, is right when he 
speculates about how different the 
current opioid epidemic would be if 
society had invested in a substance 
abuse treatment infrastructure in 
30 years ago.
Similar 
to 
previous 
epidemics of crack cocaine and 
methamphetamine, 
the 
opioid 

epidemic hammers the working 
class and the poor. According to 
national 2016 data analyzed by the 
Kaiser Family Foundation, West 
Virginia has the highest rate of 
opioid overdose deaths (Michigan 
ranks 11th). There is not a lot of 
good data directly on the rates 
of opioid misuse in America, so I 
like to use prescription rates and 
overdose death rates as proxies. 
These proxies are far from perfect, 
though. Case in point, only a small 
portion of opioid users overdose 
and even fewer die as a result. Risk 
of death is also highly dependent on 
external factors such as whether the 
incredibly deadly opioid fentanyl 
has made it into the community.

The opioid epidemic should be 
viewed as a socioeconomic issue 
as well as a public health issue. The 
trend generally holds that opioids 
hit poorer communities harder. 
Moreover, treatment for addiction 
can be expensive and hard to access. 
For example, there are no specialty 
clinics that dispense methadone, 
one of the drugs used in medication-
assisted treatment, in the entire 
Upper Peninsula.
So, why do people of lower 
socioeconomic status shoulder a 
greater burden in this epidemic? 
After all, oxycodone has the same 
addictive potential whether it is 
taken by a billionaire or someone 
who is unemployed.
By and large, people who 
become addicted to opioids begin 
with opioids prescribed to them 
by a medical professional for 
pain. Working class people are at 
a much greater risk for pain than 
their 
middle- 
and 
upper-class 
counterparts.
A major cause of pain is 
workplace injury, and certain 
jobs are far more dangerous 
than others. A study out of 
Massachusetts, which has also 

been hit hard by opioids, found 
physically-intensive 
occupations 
like 
construction, 
fishing 
and 
material moving have a much higher 
risk of opioid misuse and overdose 
death. It may surprise some but 
fishing is the most dangerous job in 
America, according to data from the 
Bureau of Labor Statistics. Turns 
out cushy desk jobs result in a less 
painful life.
Another 
way 
people 
are 
exposed to opioids is after dental 
surgery such as tooth extractions 
and root canals. The fact that 
many Americans, 21.3 percent to 
be exact, have not seen a dentist 
in several years never ceases 
to amaze me. Oral health is an 
important part of overall health, 
but because dentistry is separate 
from medicine (the reason behind 
this is ridiculous), 33 percent of 
Americans do not have dental 
coverage. While we are lucky 
in Michigan to have expanded 
Medicaid, which covers dental care, 
lower income residents of states 
like Texas, Florida and Georgia do 
not have this option. Rotting teeth 
are extremely painful, but they 
are completely preventable, as are 
the surgeries needed to fix them. 
Dentists, love them or loathe them, 
have an important role to play in 
addressing the opioid epidemic.
I could go on and on about all 
the links between opioids and 
socioeconomic class, about how 
the stress of living paycheck to 
paycheck may lead people to 
self-medicate with heroin or 
painkillers, or how higher rates 
of obesity in poor communities 
leads to an epidemic of chronic 
lower back pain that is the 
reason many start opioids.
In the crack epidemic, society 
viewed those suffering with 
addiction as criminals. Today, 
the stereotype of communities 
hardest hit by opioids also 
includes the notion that these 
people are lazy and getting 
high because they are bored. 
Both are blatantly classist and 
far from the truth. Whether it 
is crack or opioids, America’s 
drug epidemics are reflections 
of 
socioeconomic 
inequality 
that plagues our nation.

ALI SAFAWI | COLUMN

America’s drug epidemics are classist

Ali Safawi can be reached at 

asafawi@umich.edu.

EMILY CONSIDINE | CONTACT EMILY AT EMCONSID@UMICH.EDU

M

ichael 
Bloomberg, 
the former mayor of 
New York City and 
potential Democratic presidential 
contender 
in 
2020, 
recently 
donated $1.8 billion (yes, billion 
with a b) to his alma mater, Johns 
Hopkins University. He wrote 
about the rationale for his donation 
in an Op-Ed published by The New 
York Times: he wants Hopkins 
to have a completely need-blind 
admissions process. Students will 
be accepted based on their merit, 
and not their ability to pay, which is 
unfortunately still a factor at many 
of the most prestigious universities 
in this country.
Though his desire to halt 
intergenerational 
poverty 
through need-blind admissions 
is commendable and inspiring, 
there exists controversy over his 
donation. In a Letter to the Editor 
of The New York Times, Kathleen 
McCartney, president of Smith 
College in Massachusetts, wrote 
how the money could have been 
better spent at a less prestigious 
university—one that was more 
widely available to low- and 
middle-income 
students. 
She 
mentioned how the City University 
of New York “propelled almost six 
times as many low-income students 
into the middle class and beyond 
as all eight Ivy League campuses, 
plus Duke, M.I.T., Stanford and 
Chicago, combined.”
Helaine Olen, a contributor 
for the New York Times, echoed 
this sentiment by writing in 
her piece that while Hopkins 
may be ethnically diverse (with 
25 percent of the student body 
African American and Hispanic) 
the university is less inclusive of 
those from lower rungs of the 
socioeconomic ladder. With only 
12 percent of Hopkins’ student 
body classified as first-generation 
college students, Olen suggests the 
university could be doing more to 
promote economic diversity.
The controversy surrounding 
Bloomberg’s donation reminded 
me of a powerful piece I read last 
year titled “The 9.9 Percent is the 
New American Aristocracy.” In it, 
Matthew Stewart details how the 
wealthiest 10 percent of American 

households (excluding the top 0.1 
percent because of their obscene 
amount of wealth) like to give off 
the impression that they’re a part 
of some meritocracy – that any 
individual from even the lowest 
socioeconomic background can 
work hard enough and make their 
way into the top 10 percent. This 
idea, however, could not be further 
from the truth.

Economic mobility in the land of 
opportunity is no longer a realistic 
expectation for those seeking to 
advance their financial position in 
this world. The children of the top 
decile settle down later in life near 
their starting point (as doctors, 
lawyers or senior vice presidents at 
a major corporation). This reality 
extends to children in the bottom 
decile too. It is intergenerational 
poverty that pulls these children 
right back to where they came 
from.
The wealthiest 10 percent of 
American 
households, 
Stewart 
asserts, have managed to secure the 
financial security (and prosperity) 
of their children through higher 
education. He writes “(t)he skin 
colors of the nation’s elite student 
bodies are more varied now, as are 
their genders, but their financial 
bones have calcified over the past 
30 years.”
Inequality is perpetuated in 
higher education through the use of 
legacy-admissions policies, which 
reward applicants whose parents 
attended the same university. In 
addition, acoording to Stewart 
private high schools serve as 
“affirmative-action programs for 
the wealthy” because “only 2.2 
percent of the nation’s students 
graduate 
from 
nonsectarian 

private high schools, and yet these 
graduates account for 26 percent of 
students at Harvard and 28 percent 
of students at Princeton.”
The lack of economic inclusivity 
at elite institutions extends beyond 
the Ivy League. Even the University 
of Michigan is affected, as only 
16 percent of Michigan’s student 
body is made up of students from 
the bottom 60 percent of earners, 
while nearly 10 percent of the 
student body comes from the top 1 
percent.
It 
turns 
out 
that 
this 
inequality in higher education 
is also perpetuated through 
the U.S. News college rankings. 
Colleges and universities are 
ranked (quite arbitrarily) on a 
host of factors—with one of great 
importance being the average 
test scores of its student body. In 
order to improve their ranking, 
colleges and universities are 
incentivized to admit only the 
best and brightest. The problem 
arises 
when 
you 
consider 
students from the top income 
bracket can score more than 130 
points higher on all portions of 
the SAT than their peers in the 
bottom bracket.
Bloomberg’s 
donation 
may 
make his alma mater’s admissions 
process 
need-blind, 
but 
that 
assumes the students from lower 
socioeconomic classes are viable 
contenders in the process. His 
donation does nothing for the high 
school students unable to prove 
their worth to the institution 
through high grades or test scores. 
 
While Bloomberg’s $1.8 billion 
will certainly have an impact 
on the economic diversity of 
Hopkins’ student body, the money 
will make but a small dent (which 
he admits) in the effort to halt 
intergenerational poverty in the 
United States. Making America 
the land of opportunity once 
again will require greater, more 
economically 
impartial 
access 
to higher education. It may also 
require 
restraining 
the 
New 
American Aristocracy.

ERIK NESLER | COLUMN

Inequality in higher education

Erik Nesler can be reached at 

egnesler@umich.edu.

This is not the 
time to bow 
down to Trump’s 
demands

Why do people 
of lower SES 
shoulder a greater 
burden in this 
epidemcic?

AMANDA
ZHANG

The lack of 
economic 
inclusivity 
extends beyond 
the Ivy League