Transparency

Or the lack thereof

Coronavirus has me thinking a lot about transparency in our institutions. On the national level, there are many mechanisms working to ensure that the federal government is transparent to some degree, including national media behemoths with the resources to sue as the need arises.

Local governments are not hounded in the same way, and so their constituents are not always so lucky. Many smaller outlets have fewer resources, and need to stay on good terms with local businesses. They have had find more delicate ways to balance their watchdog, public service duties with their need to keep ad dollars flowing from the establishments next door.

Very local outlets are also more likely to suffer now. With the economic shutdown, your stores and restaurants don’t really need to advertise; no one can patronize them anyway. It’s led to a new round of job loss in the industry. The storied Cleveland Plain-Dealer is basically gone. The New York Times estimates that 28,000 media workers have lost their jobs, been furloughed, or had their pay reduced. It’s hard to imagine how reporters’ pay can be reduced because salaries are already in the basement.

At the same time, hospitals are refusing to let their staff wear masks, or threatening to fire them if they speak out. Local and state officials are not always making the best decisions, or doing so in the most honest ways. Who is going to monitor their actions? Who is going to hold the government accountable for its failures and missteps? That was the question the founders tried to answer by enshrining freedom of the press first, before they did anything else, and it’s as urgent a question as any now. Here is what I know above all else: the truth will always find it’s way out, and it will always collect its debts. Rumors and terror fill the vacuum when people in power try to suppress or hide the facts they think unflattering. And that might be even truer in small communities, like the one I’m in, where everyone knows everyone and, so, usually knows enough to know something.

What I’m Reading:

I finished The Plague, by Albert Camus, and I know it’s supposed to be allegorical but it felt very much like a nonfiction account of what’s happening in America right now. But what I really want to say is something about book format. At first, I’d rented the book from my local library, but because of the format it was in I could not download it to my Kindle. That left me with the iPad, which was possibly the worst way to read a book. For that reason, it was slow going, and I was only getting through a chapter or two a night. I was only halfway through before my rental expired, and I couldn’t re-check it because someone else had reserved it. (Maybe because of my recommendation here?) I was upset and disappointed not to be able to finish it, which sent Samir on a frantic search through the boxes of books we haven’t unpacked yet. In his collection he found a small, slim modern library edition—the kind with those old-style boards and a threadbare green fabric cover—and it was such a satisfying size and shape that my reading sped up. Holding it made me feel like I was an Austen character, sitting by the fire, enjoying my novel. I tore through the last half in a day. Sometimes the way we read books matters as much as what’s in them.

I also finished The Fifth Risk, by Michael Lewis. It felt fast to me, which is both good and bad, but was also a much-needed love letter to the nameless heroes who spend their lives in public service. I’ve been obsessed, for the first time since this administration began, with learning exactly how and to what extent Trump is a terrible president. It soothes me for some reason. Next up is American Oligarchs by Andrea Bernstein, who co-hosts a podcast, Trump, Inc., which is also essential listening.

What I’m Recommending:

It has come to my attention that some of you might not know that there is special flour for making (the best) biscuits. Now you know. You’re welcome.

Cute Animal Pic of the Week:

I went on a mask-wearing, social-distanced visit to see some of my favorite stray dogs. This is a spring puppy I called Puddles. His sister, Daffodil, was just adopted, but he and another sister are still looking for their forever homes. Puddles looks very grand but he is a tiny thing, only about 20 pounds. He also looks like he would be a crazy herding dog, but he’s pretty chill.

Side Note:

As a side note, a friend and I have started a new, small nonprofit here. Our primary goal will be to help people who otherwise might be able to afford it have their dogs and cats spayed or neutered. We filed for nonprofit status April 1 and are waiting for final approval, and coronavirus has obviously delayed or altered our startup plans. If you want to help, though, your donations should be tax deductible even now. You can check out our GoFundMe page here, which is still the best way to donate as of now. Bookmark it for later if you’re interested in helping but can’t right now!