Sarah Palin’s family values

If Sarah Palin, governor of Alaska and John McCain’s new running mate, were a private citizen, her campaign against her brother-in-law Michael Wooten would be sympathetic, if not quite admirable. Wooten took a new girlfriend in the winter of 2005, and his divorce from Palin’s sister, Molly McCann, and custody battle with her seem to have been bitter. Palin has written that she believes that Wooten assaulted McCann and threatened to kill Chuck Heath, who is Palin and McCann’s father.

These charges have not been substantiated [UPDATE, Sept. 3: In fact, longtime Palin foe Andrew Halcro claims that when Wooten went to court to challenge a restraining order against him, Molly McCann “testified that Wooten never hit her or never physically abused her or ever touched the children”.], but some of Palin’s other charges against Wooten have been, and he hardly sounds like a model citizen. He has admitted to using his Taser on his ten-year-old stepson, for example. In his defense he claims that the stepson asked him to, because he wanted to know what it felt like. A child’s request is no extenuation; the act is appalling. And there is evidence suggesting that Wooten drove a state vehicle while drinking out of an open can of beer. Many people might feel that if it were their sister getting a divorce from Wooten, they would be tempted to be a little casual with the truth in their haste to protect their sister and to force Wooten out of a job that provided him with social authority and firearms.

Palin is not a private citizen, however. For someone who might soon be a heartbeat away from the presidency, the standard is higher. A person of presidential caliber is not supposed to take an expedient view of the truth, however personal and intense her motive. I joked in yesterday’s post about the Great Moose Carcass Controversy, but there are real issues of character and judgment involved in Palin’s pursuit of her brother-in-law.

In the moose-hunting incident I described yesterday, there is something a little odd about Palin’s knowing in 2003 that her brother-in-law shot a moose in technical violation of the law (Wooten didn’t have a permit, though his wife, Palin’s sister, who was standing beside him at the time, did), her overlooking that fact for two years, and then her recalling it after his marriage to her sister had broken down. When you factor in that Palin’s father helped carve up the moose and that Wooten may have shared the moose meat with Palin herself, the delay in reporting looks even dodgier.

Consider another of Palin’s charges. In an email to Colonel Julia Grimes of the Alaska State Troopers, dated 10 August 2005, Palin accused Wooten of bragging about “a wolf hunt where he illegally chased down the animal with his snowmachine to kill it unfairly.” After an extensive investigation of this and other charges, Sergeant Ronald Wall wrote in his Memorandum of Findings, dated 29 October 2005, that the charge was “Not Sustained.” Here’s Wall’s report:

During the investigation it was also alleged that Investigator Wooten had illegally chased a wolf down with a snowmobile and killed the animal. Chuck Heath was interviewed and acknowledged that he witnessed the event. Heath advised that Investigator Wooten had been wolf hunting in an area off the Denali highway with him. Heath stated that he shot a wolf and wounded it and the animal ran. Heath stated that Investigator Wooten pursued the animal with his snowmobile and shot it several times. Investigator Wooten acknowledged that he did chase the animal with his snowmobile and that he shot the animal. Investigator Wooten stated that he did not shoot the wolf while riding the snowmobile. After I spoke with Lieutenant Waldron, of the Wildlife Investigations Unit, I learned that the Butte Lake area, where Heath and Investigator Wooten were, is a predator control area and wolves may be legally shot from aircraft and motorized vehicles.

Aside from the fact that it was legal for Wooten to shoot the wolf from the snowmobile, if in fact that’s what he did, there is the complication that the witness to the alleged but nonexistent crime was Heath, Wooten’s father-in-law and Palin’s father. If the family sincerely felt that this wolf shooting represented an instance of outlawry by Wooten, how do they explain that Palin’s father was the one who shot the wolf first? Did it occur to Palin that she might here be incriminating her father?

And, as with the moose-shooting incident, why the delay in reporting? If you witness a crime but fail to report it until later, when the supposed criminal has antagonized you for other, unrelated reasons, it is fair for others to infer that your decision to report it isn’t motivated by a concern for justice. It’s motivated by something else, something akin to revenge or blackmail.

And here’s yet another upsetting episode. In his analysis of charges that Wooten physically abused McCann—charges that Sergeant Wall deemed “Not Sustained”—Wall wrote this:

It should also be noted that Sarah Palin stated that she listened to Investigator Wooten and McCann argue over an open telephone line with her son, Track, for Molly’s safety. Track, however, states that they listened solely for the purpose of maybe hearing Investigator Wooten acknowledge that he was having extramarital affair.

That’s not a pretty picture: a future vice presidential nominee eavesdropping on her sister’s conversation with her husband, in hopes of hearing an admission of adultery. Not only that, a future vice presidential nominee recruiting her son to help her eavesdrop for an admission of adultery by her brother-in-law. In 2005, Track would have been sixteen years old.

Did Sarah Palin eat the moose?

Adultery. The Tasering of a child. A disputed moose carcass. A family feud that may have led to the inappropriate firing of a government official. John McCain’s new running mate Sarah Palin, the governor of Alaska, comes with a vivid and colorful back-story, well worth the attention of America’s journalistic community.

It seems that before Palin became governor, her sister Molly McCann’s marriage to Alaska state trooper Mike Wooten disintegrated. The divorce and the custody battle appear to have been bitter. In 2005, Palin and her husband pushed the state troopers to investigate Wooten for driving while drunk, for using a Taser on his stepson, and for shooting a moose without a permit. They even hired a private investigator to speed the process along. Wooten was eventually suspended for ten days, a sentence reduced to five days after his union protested. But after Palin became governor, she continued to push the Troopers to punish Wooten further, and she may have stepped over the line by firing of Public Safety Commissioner Walt Monegan when he failed to respond to her pressure.

The alleged violation of government integrity by a personal agenda—that’s business as usual. What makes this fun and new is how messy it is. There’s lots here that isn’t very vice presidential. Take the moose, for example. Apparently it was shot in 2003, and Wooten indeed lacked the permit necessary for shooting it. But his wife did have the permit, and she was standing beside him at the time, and once they had killed the moose, they dropped the carcass off at the house of her father, Chuck Heath—who’s also Sarah Palin’s father. Wooten later told blogger Andrew Halcro that Palin did not object to the moose-killing at the time. Not only that, Wooten claims that Palin helped to eat the moose.

It’s hard to know whether the claim is true. “CHUCK [Heath] did most of the butchering,” Mike Wooten told an investigator for the Alaska Department of Public Safety in September 2005. “Boning and stuff like that he did most of that.” Wooten said that he took the rest to Shop Right and had it made into burgers and sausage. Wooten also claimed that during the hunt itself, when he and his wife spotted the moose, he asked her if she wanted to shoot it, and she told him to. On this topic and that of the moose carcass’s fate, however, Governor Palin told a different story when the Department of Public Safety interviewed her in August 2005.

[Palin]: . . . He went hunting with MOLLY and with WPD Officer CHRIS WATCHUS. He shot a moose. It was a . . . it was a drawing permit system. So he was . . . MOLLY had the tag MIKE shot it anyway. Didn’t give MOLLY a chance even to shoot it. CHRIS WATCHUS my understanding is didn’t . . . it’s never it didn’t register with him that, that “Oh MIKE you just illegally shot this. He doesn’t have the tag.” Cause he wouldn’t have known. But MIKE shot it. Umm . . . didn’t know how to or didn’t want to. I don’t think he even knew how to. Didn’t, didn’t want to process the meat umm . . . dropped it off at my dad’s house knowing that my dad was home and my dad would take care of it if it needed to be taken care of rather then [sic] go to waste. . . .

My dad process[ed] it. MIKE never did come back to gg-pick up the moose or anything else so my dad brought the meat over to MIKE’s house even. He probably even put it in his freezer for him because MIKE didn’t ah appear to have any intention at all of . . . using the moose or eating the moose.

This seems to be a touchy point in Alaska, not eating a moose after killing it. Wooten claims he paid $500 for the processing at Shop Right, and that it fed his family for a year. But check it out for yourselves. A number of the transcripts and emails in the Great Moose Carcass Controversy are available at the blog Celtic Diva’s Blue Oasis and in the sidebar to an Anchorage Daily News story about whether Wooten is as bad an egg as Palin makes him out to be. Whatever the verdict on Wooten, Palin emerges rather clearly as petty, vindictive, and lacking in judgment.

What’s your Thoreau speed?

In Walden, Thoreau proposed a modification of the traditional formula for calculating speed. Instead of merely dividing the distance traveled by the time it took to cross it, Thoreau proposed reckoning also the cost of the ticket. Imagine, he writes, that he and a friend both want to go from Concord to Fitchburg.

I say to my friend, Suppose we try who will get there first. The distance is thirty miles; the fare ninety cents. That is almost a day’s wages. I remember when wages were sixty cents a day for laborers on this very road. Well, I start now on foot, and get there before night; I have traveled at that rate by the week together. You will in the mean while have earned your fare, and arrive there some time to-morrow, or possibly this evening, if you are lucky enough to get a job in season. Instead of going to Fitchburg, you will be working here the greater part of the day. And so, if the railroad reached round the world, I think that I should keep ahead of you; and as for seeing the country and getting experience of that kind, I should have to cut your acquaintance altogether.

The thought experiment provided the donnée for a children’s book published in 2000, Henry Hikes to Fitchburg, by D. B. Johnson.

There’s no reason to distrust Thoreau’s math. A healthy adult could walk thirty miles in a day. According to a 2007 study, people in cities walk in the range of 3 and 4 miles per hour. Thirty miles is a long day’s walk, but it’s feasible. Nonetheless, I remember that when I first read this passage in Walden, I admired the cleverness but didn’t think it could possibly be true nowadays. After all, in a week I could earn the fare for an airplane ticket that would take me to California, and I couldn’t walk there in a month, I don’t imagine. (I made this innumerate estimate, of course, long before the price of oil skyrocketed, taking airplane fares with it.)

Lately I’ve started to wonder about cars, though. I have a new bike, and it seems quite often that cars make a great show of passing me, only to have me catch up at the next stop light. (When I bike in the city, I wait at stop lights, by the way, so this isn’t about the bonus that accrues to outlaws.) When driving, too, now that I’m bike-conscious, I’ve noticed that we may pass a biker in Manhattan, only to have him pass us when we get off the expressway in Brooklyn. Do cars actually reach their destinations faster than bikes? And even if the simple speed of cars is higher, is what we might call their Thoreau speed higher?

The concept of Thoreau speed was reprised in the social critic Ivan Illich’s 1974 book Energy and Equity, a critique of transportation. Illich writes that

The typical American male devotes more than 1,600 hours a year to his car. He sits in it while it goes and while it stands idling. He parks it and searches for it. He earns the money to put down on it and to meet the monthly instalments. He works to pay for petrol, tolls, insurance, taxes and tickets. He spends four of his sixteen waking hours on the road or gathering his resources for it. And this figure does not take into account the time consumed by other activities dictated by transport: time spent in hospitals, traffic courts and garages; time spent watching automobile commercials or attending consumer education meetings to improve the quality of the next buy. The model American puts in 1,600 hours to get 7,500 miles: less than five miles per hour. In countries deprived of a transportation industry, people manage to do the same, walking wherever they want to go, and they allocate only three to eight per cent of their society’s time budget to traffic instead of 28 per cent.

Unlike Thoreau’s numbers, Illich’s aren’t the sort you can look up on a railroad timetable or check against your own pedometer, and Illich doesn’t give his sources. So I was skeptical of his algebra, too, when I read it. But there is an awful lot of high-quality data readily available on the internet. . . .

According to Pat S. Hsu and Timothy R. Reuscher, Summary of Travel Trends: 2001 National Household Travel Survey (U.S. Department of Transportation, Federal Highway Administration, December 2004), in 2001, the most recent year whose statistics are available, the average length of a weekday trip in a vehicle was 9.75 miles and a weekend trip 10.22 miles. The average time spent driving on a weekday trip was 64.79 minutes, and on a weekend trip 52.39 minutes. That means that the average speed on weekdays was 9.02 miles per hour and on weekends 11.70 miles per hour.

Right away, then, it’s apparent that the simple speed of cars is about that of bikes. It’s higher than that of walkers, but only by a factor of three or four.

Now what happens if you add in the time it takes to earn the cost of the ride, as Thoreau and Illich think you ought to? According to the Federal Highway Administration, the average annual miles driven by a vehicle in 2001 was 11,078. According to Your Driving Costs: How Much Are You Really Paying to Drive? (AAA, 2008), estimates of the average cost per mile of driving a car vary according to annual total mileage and the size of the vehicle, but for an average-size sedan (i.e., not an SUV or a minivan) that goes 10,000 miles a year, the average per-mile cost is 71.0 cents. This is an awfully convenient statistic for our purposes. Since this AAA number includes fuel, maintenance, tires, insurance, license, registration, taxes, depreciation (“the difference between new-vehicle purchase price and estimated trade-in value at the end of five years”), and financing charges, there’s no need to fiddle around trying to research gas prices or the actual cost of buying a car. Returning to the average trips from the Federal Highway Administration, it now appears that the cost of an average weekday trip is $6.92 and of a weekend trip $7.26.

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the average hourly wage of an American in 2005 was $18.62. (I realize I’m using driving statistics from 2001, cost-of-driving statistics from 2008, and wage statistics from 2005, but in each case these are the most recent numbers I could find. Sorry!) Therefore, on average, the cost of a weekday car trip sets an American wage-earner back 22.3 minutes, and a weekend trip sets him back 23.4 minutes. From here it’s easy to recalculate the speed of those trips including the time it takes to earn the cost of taking them. The Thoreau speed of an average trip is 6.72 miles per hour on weekdays, and 8.09 miles per hour on weekends.

So the Thoreau speed of a car exceeds the speed of walking by only a factor of two. If hidden costs of cars such as car-related injury, death, pollution, and global warming were included, it might well be a tie.

At this point in my calculations, I Googled to find out the average speed of bicycles, and I discovered, serendipitously, that I’m not the first person to try to do this math. What’s more, I’m not even the first person to invoke Thoreau and Illich while doing so; someone named Brad Morgan invoked them in 1991. And a fellow named Ken Kifer has made a much more thorough assessment of the costs of driving. Kifer has also assessed the costs and the Thoreau speed of bicycles, into the bargain. He estimates the Thoreau speed of cars as between 4.8 and 14.4 miles per hour, and the Thoreau speed of bicycles as between 8.9 and 14.8 miles per hour. Though beaten to the punch, I’m posting anyway, because my sources and method are different yet I end up confirming Kifer’s conclusion: When costs are factored in, cars are not faster than bikes and only twice as fast as walking.

Right, Power, and Production Capacity

In an article dated 18 August 2008, “As Oil Giants Lose Influence, Supply Drops,” New York Times reporter Jad Mouawad again pooh-poohs the idea of peak oil while presenting recent evidence of it.

(If you’re looking for an explanation of peak oil, an excellent place to start reading is Benjamin Kunkel’s article “World without Oil, Amen,” which appeared in the August issue of GQ.)

Mouawad admits that demand has been exceeding supply. “Oil production has failed to catch up with surging consumption in recent years, a disparity that propelled oil prices to records this year,” he writes. And he admits that few expect the situation to get better over the next decade. But in his attempts to explain this phenomenon, he has no truck with the idea that humans may already have found most of the world’s oil and may already have taken about half of it out of the ground.

His article focuses rather on the especially low output of the Western oil companies: Exxon Mobil, BP, Royal Dutch Shell, Chevron, Conoco Phillips, Total of France, and Eni of Italy. Once they were giants, he writes, dominating the industry, but now they are responsible for just 13 percent of the world’s oil production. And that’s the problem. The oil has been taken away from them!

Sluggish supplies have prompted a cottage industry of doomsday predictions that the world’s oil production has reached a peak. But many energy experts say these “peak oil” theories are misplaced. They say the world is not running out of oil—rather, the companies that know the most about how to produce oil are running out of places to drill.

“There is still a lot of oil to develop out there, which is why we don’t call this geological peak oil, especially in places like Venezuela, Russia, Iran and Iraq,” said Arjun Murti, an energy analyst at Goldman Sachs. “What we have now is geopolitical peak oil.”

Third World nations have had the gall to nationalize their oil—taking it out of the deft and expert hands of the West and fumbling at it with their own dirty fingers instead. “Countries like Russia, Algeria, Nigeria and Angola have recently sought to renegotiate their contracts with foreign investors to capture a bigger share of the profits,” Mouawad writes.

This is a clever explanation, but it would only have a chance of being a true one if nationalization of oil assets were a new factor in world affairs. And it is not—by a long shot. Consider Mouawad’s own admission that the Western companies today control just 13 percent of the world’s oil. If their share is so low, why on earth would anyone think that their control over oil assets is essential? It’s entirely possible for the terms of oil’s ownership to change without any change in the company that handles the drilling and refining, after all. But even if the drilling and refining, too, change hands, all need not grind to a halt. Oil’s new owners have as great an interest in getting it to market as its old ones did.

Consider, too, a few moments in history:

1938 Mexico nationalizes its oil industry
1943 Venezuela demands 50 percent of the profits of oil produced there
1950 Saudi Arabia demands 50 percent of Aramco’s profits
1972 Iraq nationalizes its oil
1973 Libya nationalizes its oil

This is not an exhaustive list, just a sampling from notes I took recently while reading of Karen R. Merrill’s The Oil Crisis of 1973–1974 (Bedford St. Martin’s, 2007). But I think the list suffices to put paid to the idea that nationalization of oil assets is a new phenomenon. It has been around too long to be the cause of low oil production a decade from now. The industry has had more than half a century to adjust to the fact that sometimes countries decide they want a bigger piece of the pie.

Merrill, by the way, reprints a transcript of a 1972 meeting during which OPEC nations demanded equity in—that is, a share in the ownership of—the Western companies pumping oil of their wells. It’s pretty hilarious. The Westerners try valiantly to argue that the Arabs have already signed away their oil and can’t get any more for it.

A. C. DeCrane (Texaco): If a country has exercised its sovereignty by granting concession rights, why shouldn’t the party who has relied on the agreements feel that he has a right to question nationalization? You cannot ignore legal rights given by contract.

A. Z. Yamani (Saudi Arabia): You are exaggerating your rights. An agreement with the Government does not give immunity from nationalization and a state cannot bind its successor not to nationalize—even if they have promised not to do so. The International Court of Justice has given many decisions recognizing the right to nationalize. The U. N. resolution recognizes the right to natural resources. However we are not here to discuss nationalization. . . . We are reasonable and responsible. Circumstances of thirty years ago have changed. There are hundreds of cases justifying the doctrine [of changing agreements once circumstances have changed]. It is not just something in our imagination that we wish to discuss.

Hassan Kamel (Qatar): The principle allowing a nation to nationalize its natural resources is well recognized and reaffirmed by the UN. OPEC Resolution 90 of 1968 established a principle of acquiring a reasonable participation [in ownership of oil companies]. . . .

DeCrane: An OPEC resolution cannot create a legal right. Changes may be give rise to discussions and to changes to agreements, freely negotiated but not from any legal right. There is no legal right in our opinion to force us to agree. . . .

Yamani: I don’t care about your legal views provided you are prepared to discuss in a reasonable and practical manner. If you say there is no right to ask for participation then that is the end of the matter. If you are prepared to discuss, then we will. We have the power to move in other directions.

DeCrane: It is very important to distinguish between a right and a power.

Yamani: Good, I am glad we understand each other. For example, I own this glass and I have the right to break it. Don’t make me nervous or I will use my power.

A. R. Martin (Gulf): I would like to clarify our views on sovereignty over your resources. You used it to enter into agreements and you do not have the right to take the right you have granted back again. International law does not recognize such a right.

Yamani: Now I am using my right. If you get stubborn, I may use my power. [Merrill, The Oil Crisis, pp. 44–47.]

One can’t help but think that if the American Indians had had a Yamani on their negotiating team, perhaps the political geography of the United States would have turned out differently.

Mon semblable, mon frère

In describing the memoirs of the duc de Saint-Simon, Lytton Strachey seems to look into a mirror:

His innumerable portraits are unsurpassed in literature. They spring into his pages bursting with life—individual, convincing, complete, and as various as humanity itself. He excels in that most difficult art of presenting the outward characteristics of persons, calling up before the imagination not only the details of their physical appearance, but the more recondite effects of their manner and their bearing, so that, when he has finished, one almost feels that one has met the man. But his excellence does not stop there. It is upon the inward creature that he expends his most lavish care—upon the soul that sits behind the eyelids, upon the purpose and the passion that linger in a gesture or betray themselves in a word. The joy that he takes in such descriptions soon infects the reader, who finds before long that he is being carried away by the ardour of the chase, and that at last he seizes upon the quivering quarry with all the excitement and all the fury of Saint-Simon himself. Though it would, indeed, be a mistake to suppose that Saint-Simon was always furious—the wonderful portraits of the Duchesse de Bourgogne and the Prince de Conti are in themselves sufficient to disprove that—yet there can be no doubt that his hatreds exceeded his loves, and that, in his character-drawing, he was, as it were, more at home when he detested. Then the victim is indeed dissected with a loving hand; then the details of incrimination pour out in a multitudinous stream; then the indefatigable brush of the master darkens the deepest shadows and throws the most glaring deformities into still bolder relief; then disgust, horror, pity, and ridicule finish the work which scorn and indignation had begun. Nor, in spite of the virulence of his method, do his portraits ever sink to the level of caricatures. His most malevolent exaggerations are yet so realistic that they carry conviction. When he had fashioned to his liking his terrific images—his Vendôme, his Noailles, his Pontchartrain, his Duchesse de Berry, and a hundred more—he never forgot, in the extremity of his ferocity, to commit the last insult, and to breathe into their nostrils the fatal breath of life.

From Landmarks in French Literature, 1912.