4 — Tuesday, March 10, 2020
Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
W
ith the Democratic
primaries
in
full
swing,
the
University
of
Michigan’s
campus
is
becoming
dense
with
political
advocacy
—
fliers, voter registration drives,
candidate offices opening and
endorsements are present at
every corner. As people begin
to discuss the primaries online
and on campus, students want
to take part in the monumental
2020
presidential
election.
Conversations
range
from
preferred
candidates
to
potential policies to the peculiar
statements made in debates.
However,
a
commonality
that ties many of the topics
together is touchy, personal and
controversial: money. In the
Democratic primary, the role of
personal wealth is flagrant. Front
runner Sen. Bernie Sanders,
I-Vt., has made working-class
issues the cornerstone of his
campaign, while Mayor Michael
Bloomberg, D-N.Y., is pouring
his $56.1 billion net worth
into mimicking a grassroots
campaign
with
personal
social
media
advertisements
despite making condescending
comments about blue-collar jobs.
During the 2016 election,
President
Donald
Trump
effectively utilized his personal
wealth and experience as an
entrepreneur to garner support.
The narrative of being a “self-
made”
billionaire
paints
an
image of independent work ethic
and success; despite flaunting his
wealth, he was still able to run
as a political outsider positioned
to end corruption. His “drain
the swamp” mantra has been
satirized following his tactful
cabinet placements. However,
the impact of financial affluence
in politics runs much deeper than
the presidency and a fascination
with billionaires. Voters who
have firmly established opinions
on billionaires should keep in
mind that positions and policy
can change, but deeply rooted
opinions tend not to. Rather than
having cyclical discussions on
the merits of enormous wealth
acquisition, we must focus on
how the current system favors
private interests over public
values.
Campaign finance legislation
protects the ability of wealth to
be shielded from the public eye
in local, state and nationwide
campaigns.
The
state
of
Michigan has a deep history of
insufficient campaign finance
transparency and ranks last
among the 50 states in the
ability to analyze systems that
enable corruption according
to
The
Center
for
Public
Integrity, to the detriment of
our elections. Public access to
information, lobbying disclosure
and executive, legislative and
judicial authority are the other
glaring issues the state is failing
to address. Donation limits are
spotty at best, pathetic at worst.
The Secretary of State website
that should accessibly show
campaign finance is convoluted.
Critical information is buried
by
complex
search
engine
fields and a lack of coherent
organization to the detriment
of
constituents
seeking
to
educate themselves on their
options for representation. This
particularly impacts those with
less proficient digital literacy.
These deeply embedded policy
issues are being buried with
other political discourse. They
must be exposed, discussed and
changed — reforming a system
that hides dark money must be
at the forefront of conversations
about money in politics as
opposed to whether a candidate
is a billionaire.
Systemic
failures
are
reinforced by electing people
that
directly
benefit
from
that
system.
Independent
organizations, like the National
Rifle Association, invest vast
sums of money in candidates
that will strike down gun
control legislation, despite the
majority of the public claiming
we need to combat gun violence.
With the 2020 presidential
election fast approaching, it is
time to discuss these hidden
(and not so hidden) influences.
The
political-economic
system
is
reinforced
by
campaigns
powered
by
personal wealth. Trump used
his self-described success as
a tool for his campaign; as a
businessman, he knew how
to negotiate deals and get
things done. This narrative
was bolstered by the assertion
that Trump was “self-made,”
when in fact his “small loan of
a million dollars” was actually
more than $413 million, when
factoring in inflation. This
falsehood was not a partisan
belief.
Both
Republicans
and
Democrats
misperceived
Trump’s financial background
surrounding
his
2016
presidential run. Statements
like “I built what I built myself”
and “I did it by working long
hours
and
working
hard
and
working
smart”
evoke
admiration and empathy from
some constituents, veiling his
cushioned life and access to
an array of business ventures
from his family’s wealth and
network. Utilizing the “pull
yourself up by your bootstraps”
narrative establishes solidarity
with working and middle-class
voters who believe hard work
is the main element of success.
This tactic is unethical because
it implies he has had similar
life experiences when in truth
he always had the wealth to
fall back on. His interests lie
in maintaining the system that
allowed him and his family to
accumulate immense wealth,
not reforming it to the needs of
the working class.
The
crux
of
the
conflicting
narratives
surrounding
billionaires,
between
vilification
and
romanticization,
lies
within
each
individual’s
unique
perspective
on
how
the
economy works; we typically
fall somewhere between the
notion of rugged individualism
and systemic assistance and
restraint. And these values are
not easily changed. Political
discourse should be rooted in
the realities of how democracy
is
being
damaged
by
the
influence of immense sums
of money from both elected
representatives
and
non-
government
organizations.
Rather than if we believe
billionaires are good or bad, our
discussions should be driven
by ideas that can change, like
positions on the specific policies
that allows dark money to be
shielded
from
constituents.
Disguising the role of money in
the policies politicians support
when elected is a deliberate aim
to deceive their constituents,
undermining the desires of
the people, which should be
the focus of the narratives of
wealth.
When politicians misguide
the public about the source of
their funds, the signals that
should be flagged are muted in
the convoluted and congested
political narrative that tends
to
focus
on
salaciousness.
Acknowledging the difference
between how we conceptualize
wealth and how money plays a
role in democracy will be crucial
in healing a deeply flawed and
unrepresentative
government.
It is our duty as students of the
University, and as citizens, to
understand that some values
cannot be debated — we must
focus our energy on educating
ourselves on the flawed policies
that protect dark money and
how to redirect the narrative of
money in politics.
Demonetize your vote
ELIZABETH COOK | COLUMN
Elizabeth Cook can be reached at
elizcook@umich.edu.
Y
ou wake up in the morning
and switch on your light.
With that flick of your
index finger, you are complicit. You
are causing the seas to rise, likely
leading to the displacement of
between 32 and 80 million people.
You are responsible for the future
death of all coral reefs, ridding
over 500 million people of their
livelihoods. You are responsible for
increased water scarcity, affecting
over 350 million people.
Is this fair? No. But that is
what politicians, corporations
and people in power are
saying these days: handing
you,
the
individual,
the
burden of ending the climate
crisis and the guilt associated
with not being able to.
Over
the
past
several
months, I have witnessed
many
examples
of
our
community leaders — both at
the University of Michigan
and city level — shirking the
responsibility to act on the
current climate crisis and
instead calling for increased
individual
action
and
behavioral change.
At the Ann Arbor City
Council meeting last April,
City
Councilwoman
Anne
Banister,
D-Ward
1,
voted
against dedicating $880,000
to address climate change at
the city level, stating how “we
can demand that the city do
a bunch of stuff but I would
again urge that people look at
their own choices.” Similarly,
during a public town hall about
the
President’s
Commission
on Carbon Neutrality (PCCN)
that same month, University
President
Mark
Schlissel
explained that “we really do
as individuals share not just in
the need to have a successful
outcome, but in actually driving
that success.”
At
a
carbon
neutrality
town
hall
in
September,
Stephen Forrest, co-chair of
PCCN, stated that “this isn’t
just the responsibility of the
University administration. It’s
the responsibility of all of us,
turning off lights, unplugging
our chargers and things like
that. These things are actually
really meaningful if you add
them up.” At a similar panel
discussion on the intersection of
businesses and carbon `told the
audience he walks four miles
round-trip to work every day
in an effort to reduce his own
carbon footprint. Forrest said
that “if even a small number
of individuals adjusted their
everyday activities to reduce
their carbon footprint, society
could potentially begin to take
steps toward carbon neutrality.”
These
recommendations
from our leaders illustrate two
possibilities: They are either
knowingly parroting fossil fuel
industry talking points or are
showing their complete lack
of understanding of the way in
which systems shape individual
action. Similarly to how the
fossil fuel industry profits from
our current reliance on fossil
fuels, corporations, institutions
and the powerful reap the
benefits of our current systems
— both economic and political —
that prioritize their profit over
our planet, and are the causes of
the current climate crisis.
In
other
words,
climate
change is a symptom of a far-too-
long overlooked side effect of our
current economic and political
systems that protect money
and power at the expense of all
else. When those with wealth
and power have something to
lose from correctly addressing
the causes of the climate crisis,
it is easier for them to double
down on greenwashing and
calls for individual behavior
change.
We
are
instructed
to unplug our chargers and
turn
our
lights
off
while
corporations
go
unchecked,
profiting from the destruction
of our ecosystems. Just 100
companies are responsible for
71 percent of global greenhouse
gas emissions, and 20 of those
corporations
are
responsible
for a whopping 35 percent of all
global emissions.
As Thoreau (bleh, I know)
states
in
his
essay
“Civil
Disobedience”: “I quarrel not
with far-off foes, but those who,
near at home, cooperate with,
and do the bidding of, those far
away, and without whom the
latter would be harmless.” To
be clear, I quarrel with both the
far-off foes and those near at
home, with names like Banister,
Schlissel and Forrest. Forrest,
for example, makes $344,000
annually and can afford to live
close enough to walk to work,
while living in a city with such
an extreme lack of housing
and housing affordability that
graduate student employees,
who are attempting to bargain
over more affordable housing
and climate action, are told
they should live in other cities
and commute to. Forrest is by
no means the villain of this
story, but his actions and words
are emblematic of a larger
issue: It is leaders like him
— those who have benefitted
from current systems of power
and are therefore reluctant to
change them — that stand in
our way and in the way of a
livable planet.
When we find ourselves
living in a society that has
been built from the ground
up on human exploitation,
resource
extraction,
fossil fuel use and power
accumulation, the individual
will always be complicit,
rendering individual action
by itself futile. I am not
telling you to stop reducing
meat
consumption,
or
stop
getting
on
busses,
or stop turning off lights
and
unplugging
chargers.
And I’m not saying that
you don’t bear some of the
responsibility for causing the
climate crisis and carry some of
the burdens of solving it. What
I’m saying is that in order to
correctly address this crisis,
today’s systems of exploitation
and inequality must be toppled.
Only collective action can do
just that.
ERIN WHITE
Managing Editor
Stanford Lipsey Student Publications Building
420 Maynard St.
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
tothedaily@michigandaily.com
Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.
ELIZABETH LAWRENCE
Editor in Chief
EMILY CONSIDINE AND
MILES STEPHENSON
Editorial Page Editors
EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS
SUNGMIN CHO | COLUMN
Students exposed to hate in Ann Arbor
O
n Dec. 17, 2019, two
of my friends and I
were walking on East
William
Street.
A
middle-
aged white male who seemed
intoxicated
aggressively
shouted
“f***ing
Asian
b*tches!” at us. On Feb. 24,
2020 two loiterers at the State
Street entrance to Nickels
Arcade asked me for money
before
telling
each
other
“he doesn’t speak English.”
In both incidents, to avoid
confrontation, I couldn’t do
anything but walk away.
Compared to many major
cities in the United States
I have visited, Ann Arbor is
considered a relatively safe
place. In fact, it has been
recognized by Niche — a
ranking and review site — as
one of the best cities to live
in America, in terms of both
the
overall
environment
and safety. But at the same
time, University of Michigan
students
living
in
Ann
Arbor are not completely
free from the problems that
plague the rest of America.
University
buildings
are
spread throughout the city,
making
the
boundary
of
campus quite blurry. When it
comes to housing, 69 percent
of students at the University
live off-campus. Many major
student
apartments
are
located downtown, directly
adjacent
to
where
these
incidents took place. This
makes
students
returning
to their homes after class
or activities late at night
vulnerable to those types of
unpleasant encounters.
The Ann Arbor experience
is an implied part of the
University
experience.
Although those incidents did
not involve physical violence
or bodily harm, those hateful
and racist remarks offend,
upset and discourage students
of
minority
identities.
Even
if
the
University
prioritizes diversity, equity
and inclusion, the scope of
student life often reaches
beyond
the
University’s
jurisdiction. Life in the city
and at the University are
inalienable, and the hate on
the streets clearly affects
student life.
In order to resolve these
incidents,
students,
the
University and the city of Ann
Arbor should work together.
According to the University’s
Division
of
Public
Safety
and Security, DPSS officers
are working with the Ann
Arbor
Police
Department
regarding campus and near-
campus
neighborhoods’
safety. Since DPSS’s mission
is to ensure the safety of
the University community,
it
should
prioritize
protecting
students
from
external
threats,
instead
of
internally
patrolling
students, arbitrarily making
assumptions
of
drinking
activity and authoritatively
searching
random
dorm
rooms. On March 24, 2019,
a
DPSS
officer
entered
my dorm room and falsely
assumed my friend and I
were drinking. She asked us
to show her my refrigerator
and trash bin. After treating
us with baseless suspicion,
she left without apologizing.
Compared
to
searching
non-existent
alcohol
consumption,
addressing
hate incidents seems to be
much
more
urgent.
This
suggests that DPSS should
look outward, not inward.
Moreover, it is imperative
that the community recognize
the urgency of this issue.
Even though hate incidents
do not necessarily involve
physical violence or damage,
the consequence should not
be overlooked. As shown in
other recent incidents nearby,
hate
speech
negatively
impacts
the
educational
community and discourages
minority students. Students
might
perceive
that
they
do not belong to the local
community,
or
develop
a
negative
impression
of
Ann Arbor, or their college
experience
in
general.
Therefore,
the
city
and
University authorities should
cooperate and take action,
not
necessarily
through
prosecution,
but
through
proactive
measures
such
as
patrolling
near-campus
neighborhoods
to
prevent
such fear in the first place.
Ann Arbor is home to over
60,000 students. Regardless
of where they come from, Ann
Arbor is where they spend the
majority of their time during
their college years. In order
for any student to feel they
belong to this city, internally
emphasizing diversity, equity
and inclusion is not enough.
These incidents especially
target minority students and
significantly degrade their
experiences in Ann Arbor.
This can negatively impact
their university experience
as well. Therefore, I call
on
the
University
and
city
authorities
to
work
together to not only address
this urgent issue but also
prevent these instances from
happening in the future.
Sungmin Cho can be reached at
csungmin@umich.edu.
Julian Hansen is a senior
International Studies major and
member of the Climate Action
Movement at the University of
Michigan and can be reached at
hansju@umich.edu.
JULIAN HANSEN | OP-ED
A case for collective climate action
Alanna Berger
Zack Blumberg
Brittany Bowman
Emily Considine
Jess D’Agostino
Cheryn Hong
Krystal Hur
Ethan Kessler
Zoe Phillips
Mary Rolfes
Michael Russo
Timothy Spurlin
Miles Stephenson
Joel Weiner
Erin White
Lola Yang
ERIN WHITE
Managing Editor
Stanford Lipsey Student Publications Building
420 Maynard St.
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
tothedaily@michigandaily.com
Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.
ELIZABETH LAWRENCE
Editor in Chief
EMILY CONSIDINE AND
MILES STEPHENSON
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
Reforming a
system that hides
dark money must
be at the forefront
of conversations
The hate on the
streets clearly
affects student life
Institutions and
the powerful reap
the benefits of our
current systems
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