I’ve kept my mouth shut, but I was assured several months ago by a couple of different sources that a copy of the thought-to-be-destroyed 1984 report by Portland authorities on allegations of sexual abuse of a minor by Ed Murray did, in fact, exist; that it was being sat on; and that it was pretty damning.
Now it’s out. And Murray can spin all he wants, but my sources were right. It’s pretty damning.
All this happened over 30 years ago, and even if Murray had been criminally prosecuted back then, it would have been for crimes now long past the statute of limitations. So I totally get the frustration and anger of Murray and people close to him. This probably WAS a political hit, timed to cause maximum damage to Murray and his career. And it has. The standards of acceptable conduct for an elected official are rather higher than simply staying out of prison.
Ed Murray knew all of this. He spent decades as an elected official, climbing the ladders of power, knowing that these allegations were buried in his past. And he knew that politics isn’t fair. For 20 years in Olympia he thrived in part by using strong-arm tactics; he became the sort of legislator who got his way by bullying rather than persuasion or negotiation. Now, legislators from both parties who served with Murray have been watching his downfall with glee. What’s good for the goose, etc.
In the big picture, none of that matters. A big city mayor has several major roles, the most important being: to steer public policy, to administer a major organization and its many thousands of employees, and to be the public representative of the city.
While I don’t particularly want six months of, say, Kate “Downtown Seattle Association” Joncas as my interim mayor, a lot of people can capably fill those first two roles for a few months. But Murray can no longer credibly do that third job. Ed Murray as Seattle’s representative to the world is now officially an embarrassment, one doing a lot more harm than good – not just to Seattle’s image, but in particular to the emotional health of sexual abuse survivors here and everywhere. Mayor Ed Murray, drawing a public salary and standing at a podium before the cameras, is a representative of Seattle. He’s also now the representative of every abuser and creep who ever got away with it.
Ed Murray needs to claim credit for all the good he’s done in his career, gracefully resign, and return to life as a private citizen. Now. Right now. It may or may not be fair, but it’s the right thing to do.
It’s become a summer tradition in Seattle. In about the middle of July, people receive a primary election ballot in the mail, turn to each other, and say: “There’s an election?”
This year is particularly vexing, because there are only eight or nine items (depending on which district of Seattle Schools you live in), all of them local, on the entire ballot for Seattle voters. There’s no federal or state elected offices up for grabs this year. But those few items include primary elections for the four most powerful local elected officials in our area: Seattle’s mayor, Seattle’s two at-large city council members (after the council went to a split district/at large system in 2015), and the King County Executive.
Easy, right? Did I mention that two of those three Seattle positions have no incumbent, and that they have, respectively, twenty-one, nine, and seven people on the ballot?
Keeping it all straight in the heat of summer is going to be far more than most people can, or want, to do – especially with 21 people running for Seattle mayor and 16 more running for the two city council seats.
There’s one other important new aspect to this year’s election: Democracy Vouchers, the slips of paper mailed to registered voters last January that can be used to channel up to $100 in publicly funded donations to the candidates of your choice – if those candidates are running for city council (which is on this summer’s primary ballot) or city attorney (on the fall ballot). If you lost those slips of paper, you can get replacements here http://www.seattle.gov/democracyvoucher/i-am-a-seattle-resident/voucher-replacement. To find out more about this groundbreaking program, go here http://www.seattle.gov/democracyvoucher.
It’s a lot to track, but I’m here – again – to help. And as has been true for each of the 22 (!) years I’ve been passing on my election recommendations, the usual caveats apply: this is one opinion. Take it for what it’s worth, which is, well, one opinion. Do your own research.
Remember, this is a top-two primary, meaning that the top two vote-getters proceed to the general election in November.
And be sure to return your ballot by Tuesday, August 1, but don’t think for a second the job of changing the world, or even our city, will be over when you do. Social change comes from below. Voting becomes most useful when people have already organized, not when the people and policies we empower are approved. Get out and make yourself heard all the time, not just by mailing in a piece of paper.
As for which lines to fill in the bubbles for…
THE TL;DR VERSION
King County Executive: Dow Constantine
Port of Seattle #1: Ryan Calkins
Port of Seattle #3: Ahmed Abdi
Port of Seattle #4: John Persak
City of Seattle Mayor: Bob Hasegawa
City of Seattle City Council #8: Mac McGregor
City of Seattle City Council #9: Pat Murakami
Seattle School District Director #4: Eden Mack
Seattle School District Director #5: Zachary Pullin DeWolf
Seattle School District Director #7: Betty Patu
King County Proposition 1: Rejected
King County Executive: Dow Constantine wants to be your next governor, following the path of former King County Executive Gary Locke. State Attorney General Bob Ferguson also wants to be your next governor, following the path of former AG Christine Gregoire. (Jay Inslee took the third common route, via Congress.)
Ferguson has been busy for the last couple of years making headlines by taking on well-chosen liberal bene hoirs like Donald Trump, Tim Eyman, and Comcast. Constantine has kept a lower profile, but he’s up for re-election this year, and it’s a measure of his power and the quality of his performance as county executive that he’s drawn no serious opposition. He has three challengers on this summer’s primary ballot: permanent wack candidates Stan Lippman and Goodspaceguy, and Bill Hurt, a retired Boeing engineer who admits up front that “My candidacy’s an attempt to attract attention to my blog” – a blog focused solely on trying to stop the eastern expansion of light rail, and the Seattle-based Scary Brown People who might then ride it. The Republican Party, which not long ago fielded competitive candidates for this position, didn’t even bother this year. Constantine’s done a good job, and for all practical purposes he’s running unopposed. Dow Constantine.
Port of Seattle: Commissioner, Position 1: For literally decades, the Port of Seattle has been one of the most corrupt and insular public agencies in the state. With its own, independent taxing authority, the Port has long been run as an obedient subsidiary of the industries it does business with: cargo companies, airport vendors, and (more recently) the cruise ship industry. Senior staff, immune to public oversight, have been part of the problem. A succession of CEOs come, fit right in with the culture, and make bank until they leave, usually under the cloud of scandal. And for far too long, the Port of Seattle Commission – the one piece of this cozy arrangement that is in theory accountable to the public – has also been dominated by interests that, at best, are only too happy to go with the flow. Port Commissioners get paid poorly for what is supposed to be a part-time job – so, as with Seattle’s School Board, it usually attracts candidates who are either independently wealthy or have a vested interest in one of the Port’s customers. Or both.
It’s impossible to understand Port Commissioner races without this essential context – and as such, with the exception of occasional reform-minded people who sneak on the commission, it’s impossible to give the benefit of the doubt to almost any incumbent in a Port race. If you’re not part of the solution at the Port, you’re very definitely Part of the Problem. And with three Port Commission seats up for election this year – one of them open, the other to with POTP incumbents; and with environmentalist Fred Felleman having been elected to a four-year term in 2015, in theory the Commission could get a rare reform majority this year.
In theory. But in these first two positions, as we saw with the King County Executive race, not all challengers to an incumbent are created equal.
In Position 1, the incumbent is John Creighton. He’s by all accounts a nice guy, who has traded on business connections and a wealthy family to win three terms on the Port Commission. His record during that time isn’t terrible…but he’s seeking a fourth term as already the longest-serving member of the commission, and a former commission President. He claims to want greater accountability at the Port – but in a dozen years, there’s little or no evidence he’s made that a priority. It’s time for fresh blood.
Creighton has three challengers this time: former state senator Claudia Kauffman, Bea Querido-Rico, and Ryan Calkins. Kauffman served one term without distinction as a state senator from Kent from 2006-10, before achieving the nearly unthinkable feat of losing as a Democratic incumbent in a district that should be a Democratic sinecure. There’s nothing in her candidacy that suggests she’d be more effective at the Port. A better choice in Calkins, who has a good mix of economic and trade understanding, nonprofit and union experience, progressive values, and a commitment to transparency that would be a clear upgrade on John Creighton. Can he make that mix work on the port commission? Let’s find out. Ryan Calkins.
Port of Seattle: Commissioner, Position 3: Here, the incumbent is Stephanie Bowman. She’s…adequate. At best. But like Creighton, she’s shown little inclination to interfere with business as usual at the Port. This year, she has two primary challengers: Lisa Espinosa and Ahmed Abdi. Abdi, a Somali immigrant, is the more impressive challenger. He’s got good priorities, calling out the Port for its opposition to paying workers a livable wage and its notorious invitation to Shell Oil two summers ago (which Bowman supported). And it’s true that an immigant, non-white voice on the Port Commission would itself be a breath of fresh air. Is Abdi conversant enough in actual Port operations? If he gets through the primary, he has three more months to make that case. Ahmed Abdi.
Port of Seattle: Commissioner, Position 4: This is the one open seat, and as such it’s attracted the most candidates: Eight, headlined by the surprise candidacy of Seattle City Council veteran Peter Steinbrueck.
Like anyone else who’s been around local politics for a while, I know and like Peter. For a decade, from 1997-2007, he and Nick Licata were often the lonely progressive voices on a council that was far more corporatized than today’s (and that helped lay the groundwork for our current homelessness and housing crises.) Four years ago, he ran an unfortunate campaign for mayor that never really took off due to the odd combination of Peter and establishment consultant Cathy Allen. But he’s still a really good guy, and a civic treasure.
And he’s not the best candidate for this job.
Honestly, I don’t know why Peter is running. Both professionally (he’s a well-regarded architect and urban planner) and on council, he hasn’t shown any obvious past interest in the Port of Seattle. The port commission doesn’t pass laws; his budget and oversight experience would translate, but only if he were more familiar with the Port itself.
And there’s another progressive candidate for this seat who has probably forgotten more about the Port over the years than Peter Steinbrueck has ever known.
I first encountered John Persak in the ’90s, when he was a young IWW firebrand. But unlike many young radicals, he stuck with it. Today, he’s risen to become a policy expert and vice president of the ILWU longshoreman’s union. As such, he’d be an ideal advocate on the commission for exactly the constituencies the Port has cared the least about in recent years: the middle class blue collar workers on the waterfront, and the lower-paying airport service workers whose raise to a $15 minimum wage the Port fought so hard against, even as the last Port CEO was paying himself and his buddies exorbitant raises. It’s been a while since a union representative, any union representative, was on the port commission. There couldn’t be a better time, and Persak has spent a lifetime preparing for the role.
In a crowded, open seat race like this for a relatively obscure position, Steinbrueck’s connections and name familiarity will likely enable him to be one of the two finalists. Who will also make the cut? It’ll be tough for Persak. In 2015, in a similar crowded open seat race (the one eventually won by Felleman), the other finalist was a grossly underqualified woman, simply because she was the only woman in a nine-person primary. Again, in this eight-person race, there’s one woman, and she’ll have an advantage. There’s also a well-monied former Delta Airlines board member who ran in that last open seat race, permacandidate Richard Pope, and several others. Persak’s the only one who would be a strong, committed, knowledgable advocate for the people most impacted by the port commission’s decisions. John Persak.
City of Seattle: Mayor: Hoo Boy. Twenty. One. Fucking. Candidates.
Fortunately, only six of them are running serious, viable campaigns. You can forget about the other fifteen. Alex Tsimerman is not going to be our next mayor. (Thank Gaia.) Neither are Harvey Lever, Mary Martin, or a dozen others. But the six worth paying attention to each have significant strengths and serious flaws that are worth considering. In alphabetical order, they are: Jenny Durkan, Jessyn Farrell, Bob Hasegawa, Mike McGinn, Cary Moon, and Nikkita Oliver.
Jenny Durkan was the last of these candidates to announce, once Ed Murray had withdrawn from the race; she’s relying heavily on Murray’s donors (and even some of his political staff), as well as her own family’s money and connections, for what instantly became the business community’s campaign of choice. As a former US Attorney who has never held public office, it’s hard to tell what kind of mayor Durkan would be; she starts as a Murray doppelganger with many of the same strengths (including the LGBTQ base) and weaknesses, but she’s also shown signs in the campaign of having creative, thoughtful ideas of her own. On the other hand, one of her decisions as US Attorney was to not federally prosecute the SPD cop who shot and killed John T. Williams in 2010. She could be surprisingly positive as mayor – or not. I’m betting on “not.” Jessyn Farrell is a sleeper in this race. She’s not well known outside her Lake City base. But in her five years representing Northeast Seattle in Olympia (she left her secure seat to run for mayor), she’s gotten high marks from every progressive Olympia hand I’ve talked with, representing a variety of constituencies – an impressive record for a relatively young legislator. She could well inherit much of the environmental vote that mobilized for Mike McGinn in 2009, as well as appealing to women voters who are skeptical about Durkan. She’s smart, creative, and strong on the issues. Keep your eye on Jessyn Ferrell. All that said, she’s relatively young and has no executive experience – and she starts as arguably the least-known of the major candidates. This probably isn’t her year – but we could do a lot worse than Ferrell for mayor. Bob Hasegawa has a different problem: as a longtime legislator representing Southeast Seattle, he was prohibited by law from raising money for his campaign before the legislature ended its third (!) special session on June 30. [UPDATE: MY MISTAKE. IT’S *STILL* IN SESSION.] With well-funded candidates like Durkan in the race in a crowded primary, that’s a significant disadvantage – which is a shame, because Hasegawa is a beloved icon in the south end. In Olympia, and before that as a union organizer, he’s spent his entire adult life fighting on behalf of working people, communities of color, and the mnny constituencies being left behind by Seattle’s ever-widening wealth gap. And he has a proven record of effectiveness that can’t be matched by most other candidates. That’s critical when tackling not only Seattle’s many difficult issues, but reversing decades of city hostility toward the people Hasegawa fights for. As a bonus, unlike our last three mayors, he’s not an arrogant, bullying asshole. That alone would be a welcome culture change. But first, he has to get through the primary. Mike McGinn is running an odd campaign. In 2009, he surprised everyone and won with the solid support of the environmental movement. Those voters largely abandoned him four years later, when he lost to Murray. Now he’s back trying to champion neighborhoods and homeowners – and rhose are the people most likely to vote in our summer primary.
It’s not a bad strategy, even if it’s a complete reversal from the evangelical zeal with which he promoted density (and corporate welfare for developers) during his one term as mayor. McGinn is as responsible as any single individual for our current affordable housing crisis. He also fought hard against any sort of accountability during the Department of Justice’s investigation and action sgainst SPD. Those are serious negatives.
However, McGinn also did some really good things as mayor. He invested in the south end and in racial equity as no mayor has before or since. The Rainier Beach Community Center was his doing, and he forged important connections with immigrant communities. His approach to homelessness was flawed, but it was positively benevolent compared to what came before and afrer. Don’t rule him out – but given his abrasive (and sometimes openly misogynist) personal style and past pivots, it’s very difficult to predict how he’d govern during a second term, That’s a problem. Cary Moonwas running a stealth campaign, until winning the surprise endorsement of The Stranger. She’s a long-time civic activist but hasn’t been much in the public eye since helping to lead the effective, if ultimately doomed, 2007 fight against the downtown tunnel – a stand that looks better every year. She’s organized, well-versed in the issues, and has all the right priorities. It’s easy to see why The Stranger endorsed her.
The downside for Moon – as with Nikkita Oliver, who I’ll discuss next – is that Moon has never run an organization of any size. I have more confidence in her than I do in Oliver to step in and do the job, and Moon is far better at engaging with constituents outside her base. But there would still be hiccups. And Stranger endorsement notwithstanding, she hasn’t raised much money (relatively speaking), hasn’t been very visible, and will have a tough time getting through this primary But, er, stranger things have happened. Nikkita Oliver is clearly the people’s candidate in this race – literally, as standard-bearer for the new People’s Party. She’s a charismatic natural leader who has emerged in recent years as an articulate, forceful, and effective community leader on issues like the youth jail and police accountability. She has by far the most enthusiastic backers, the most volunteers, the most juice of any of these candidates. She won the endorsement of the Seattle Weekly, and a significant dissent from members of The Stranger’s editorial board, on the strength of the cultural shift she’d represent. And I not only agree with but admire many of the radical positions she’s staked out. But that doesn’t mean she can either win in November or be a good mayor.
The big problem with Oliver is her lack of experience, and it manifests in many ways. Her support is deep but not broad; for a populist candidate, she hasn’t shown much interest in reaching out to forge the many coalitions needed for a successful city-wide race. As a 31-year-old activist, absolutely nothing in her past suggests she’s either qualified or capable of running the fastest-growing major city in the US, or the 11,000 workers it employs.
Oliver’s reply to this criticism is that she’d “learn on the job.” It took McGinn, an outsider and lawyer with far more experience than Oliver, two solid years to get his bearings – and he didn’t have the whole of the Seattle establishment arrayed against him like Oliver would.
To her credit, she has learned as a candidate. Early on she often showed an embarrassing lack of awareness of some issues – as when, in an interview, she seemed unaware that Seattle voters passed a huge housing levy last year, much of which was dedicated to affordable housing. She’s making fewer of those mistakes now, but even so, some of her positions – like her support for HALA – are both puzzling and worrisome.
Overall, Oliver has a lot going for her. But if I needed brain surgery, I wouldn’t pick a second year medical student with great new ideas about operating room procedure, no matter how engaging that person was. I’d want to pick a surgeon I was confident could do the job. Seattle’s many urgent challenges are at least as complex. Oliver’s young, dynamic, and has plenty of time to get more experience, but I don’t want a mayor, however much I like their rhetoric, who needs training wheels. And neither does most of Seattle, which along with her agenda virtually guarantees Oliver would lose a two-person November election badly. That might well result in the next mayor (especially a Mayor Durkan) sidelining the issues Oliver champions as only being the concern of a noisy but small minority. We can’t afford that.
If, as it appeared in March would be the case, Oliver was the only serious candidate standing between Ed Murray and a second term, I would have endorsed her enthuiastically. But we’ve got a lot more choices now. Bob Hasegawa has many of the same priorities as Oliver, but doesn’t carry her risks. He’s shown he can forge broad alliances and get laws and policies passed. And he’d be a credible progressive champion if matched against a business-as-usual candidate like Durkan.
As I said at the outside, each of these six candidates has things to recommend them, and each has flaws. But only one has not only the right values and priorities (and a track record of commitment to them), but the experience to turn those values into city policy. Bob Hasegawa
City of Seattle: City Council, Position 8: This open seat race, replacing the retiring Tim Burgess, has attracted several great candidates and one really bad one.
The bad one is Sara Nelson, the Seattle Times-endorsed candidate who identifies herself as owner of Fremont Brewery. But her relevant experience was serving as the senior legislative aide to the widely reviled Richard Conlin. In 2013, Conlin was upset in his city council bid for a fifth term by Kshama Sawant, both because she out-organized him and because Conlin’s arrogance and hostility to many of his constituents motivated some extremely unlikely bedfellows to help an open socialist beat him. That arrogance and hostility, basically toward anyone who wasn’t a developer or other large business interest, extended to Conlin’s office, which was unusually resistant to the most ordinary of constituent services and meetings. That is the experience Nelson, as the business community’s suggested replacement for Burgess, would bring to city council. Literally anyone else running in this race would be better. Most of the nut job contingent running for mayor would be better.
Nelson is particularly dangerous in the primary because there are several great candidates likely to split the progressive vote. The two strongest candidates so far, in terms of fundraising and volunteers, have been Jon Grant and Teresa Mosqueda. Grant ran a populist campaign against Burgess two years ago, almost entirely focused on affordable housing, and had a surprisingly strong showing; he’s the only candidate for the seat this year who filed to run before Burgess decided to retire. A former Tenants Union director, Grant has become far more conversant on other issues in his second run. He’d make a great councilperson.
Mosqueda? I have my doubts. She’s labor’s candidate in this race. A Washington State Labor Council executive, she helped author the minimum wage initiative that won statewide approval last year; she has nearly every union in town behind her. But that’s not necessarily a good thing. On the issues city council needs most urgently to address – and that Grant is a powerful voice for.- local unions have, frankly, been part of the problem with affordable housing and homelessness, only too willing to shovel money and favors to developers in exchange for short-term construction jobs. On issues I and many other Seattleites care most about, I don’t trust her.
Alas, Grant risks splitting the vote in this race with two other really good progressives. As an NAACP attorney, Sheley Secrest has been on the front lines of race and especially law enforcement issues for years. She also played a key role in 2013 in giving Sawant credibility in African-American communities. Mac McGregor is equally impressive – a charismatic longtime civic activist who seeks to become the first openly trans member of the city council of a major US city.
Since they haven’t run before, neither McGregor nor Secrest are as well known as Grant, and Jon honestly has done the best organizing job of any council candidate this year. You can’t go wrong with any of the three, but with Mosqueda also running a strong campaign, only one of the three is likely to make it to November. That will almost certainly be Grant, bur I’m going with McGregor, for the simple reason that a strong showing by him will help encourage either him or other trans candidates to run in the future. Mac McGregor.
City of Seattle: City Council, Position 9: Two years ago, Lorena Gonzalez sailed to election in an open seat, largely on the strength of a compelling life story and the connections she made as Mayor Ed Murray’s attorney. The concern, as she joined the council, was that she would be an unhelpful ally for a mayor intent on undermining any council ideas he couldn’t claim credit for.
Instead, Gonzalez has forged a much more independent path. She’s been friendly to business interests in some cases, a fierce advocate for the dispossessed in others. It’s been so strong a performance that when Ed Murray dropped out of the mayor’s race, she could seriously, credibly explore a mayoral run. (She sensibly declined – she’ll have plenty of oppottunities, and more experience, in the future – and Jenny Durkan jumped in instead.)
Instead, Gonzalez is likely to sail to re-election again, but she’s still got six opponents in this primary, and one of them will advance to the general. The worst of the batch is David Preston, by far the most dangerously abusive civic menace on the ballot (and that’s a ballot with Alex Tsimerman in the mayor’s race.) The best is Pat Murakami, a civic and neighborhood activist with many of the right priorities. Among other things, Murakami makes a compelling case that Gonzalez, in her time on council, has been only too willing to let developers terraform the University District and South Lake Union with almost no meaningful commitment to affordability. I don’t agree with Murakami on everything, either, but our city council has pretty much shut out neighborhood activists ever since council members started (allegedly) representing neighborhoods. In that context, Murakami is the better choice in this race. Pat Murakami.
UPDATE: It took all of ten days for me to take the for-me-unprecedented step of rescinding my endorsement for Murakami, while the election was still underway. Read why here. Skip it.
Seattle School District 1, Director District 4: As mentioned, for decades the Port of Seattle has been the local public agency that is the most corrupt, insular, and contemptuous of the public it serves. And for decades, the Seattle School District has given the Port stiff competition in all of those areas.
Like the port commissioners, Seattle school board members are (supposedly) part-time, grossly underpaid, and given wholly inadequate staff support. Like the Port, Seattle School District has had an all-too-frequent succession of chief executives who were cynical manipulators. Like the Port, Seattle Schools are unrelentingly hostile to the people most reliant on them, in this case teachers, support staff, parents, and especially students. Like the Port, Seattle Schools have a serious problem with racial equity – a doubly serious issue in a district with a majority of non-white students. Like the port commission, the school board occasionally gets reform-minded members, but more often it has overwhelmed board members who get led around by the nose by senior staff concerned primarily with protecting their own fiefdoms. Nauseatingly, where the Port glories in its culture of corruption, Seattle Schools justifies every depredation as being “for the kids.” Bullshit.
Like the Port, Seattle Schools needs a thorough culture change. And that starts with its board members.
Three of the seven board positions are up for election this year. In the primary, only people in their district vote, and then the top two advance to a city-wide vote in November. The first two of these positions are open, and have solid – even exciting – options.
For District 4, Megan Locatelli Hyska is a Bernie Sanders-inspired newcomer who says a lot of the right things, but is fuzzy on actual policy. That’s not the problem for Eden Mack, a longtime education activist who – like John Persak at the Port – has forgotten more education policy than most current board members know. Mack wants to prioritize racial equity. Just as importantly, and unlike Hyska, she has the chops to get that done. Eden Mack.
Seattle School District 1, Director District 6: Zachary Pullin DeWolf is the clear choice here. A Native American activist, he’s been on the board of both the Seattle Housing Authority and Gender Justice League, and has a long history of fighting for racial and gender equity. He’s what our schools look like, and he’s what our school board should look like. Zachary Pullin DeWolf.
Seattle School District 1, Director District 7: In recent years, one school board member has consistently fought, frequently alone, to get the district to improve its long-standing, shameful record of de facto discrimination against its non-white students. Betty Patu is an icon. We need her on the school board for another term. Betty Patu.
Only one county-wide measure is on the primary ballot this year:
King County Proposition One: Sales Tax for Cultural Access Program: Seattle area voters are notoriously willing to tax ourselves. An arts levy, like this one, would normally be a slam dunk. Most people support arts funding. In a community with any sort of aspirations to civility, it’s not a luxury.
But the timing on this one is really, really unfortunate. This levy would create a county-wide increase of one tenth of one percent to fund cultural access to the arts, particularly through public schools and especially for lower-income students. That’s a worthy cause – and one funded here by the people least able to afford it. Sales taxes are the most regressive of our state’s limited range of revenue options. Moreover, thanks in large part to Seattle area Democrats who caved to Republican obstructionism, Olympia just agreed to impose a massive property tax increase aimed almost exclusively at Puget Sound property owners. That will add up to $1,000 a year for many homeowners. More importantly for this measure, it will also hit rental properties, and many if not most of those property owners will simply pass the full increase along to their tenants – even though their state property taxes are, in turn, tax-deductible for the IRS.
In short, many of those least able in our community to pay more taxes are about to get hit with a huge increase in their already skyrocketing rents. That’s who would also disproportionately pay the sales tax increase in Prop. 1. And we have enough wealthy philanthropists in our county happy to fund the arts. (Social services? Not so much.) Let them pay for these worthy programs – not those of us least able to afford it. Rejected.
And remember to get your ballots in by Tuesday, August 1!
[Author’s note: I’m a low-income activist, disabled, and dedicating (despite financial and chronic health pressures) to reporting and commentary from and for those of us fighting for our rightful place in a city that has increasingly turned its back on many of us. I’ll also be reviewing these races with my colleague, Maria Tomchick, Saturday morning at 8:30 on KEXP 90.3 FM Seattle.
If you find my web and radio reporting and commentary valuable – and would like to see me spending more time doing this and less time stressing over how I can pay for food, rent, and medical care myself – please consider donating whatever you can to help support my work. The PayPal button is on the lower right on geov.org’s home page. Many thanks for your help! – Geov Parrish]
This week, the City of Seattle’s Human Services Department released two important but seemingly contradictory documents that capture perfectly the destructive assumptions behind “Pathways Home” and the city’s new, supposedly data-driven approach to our city’s homelessness pandemic.
First out on Tuesday was its Request for Proposals (RFP) for 2018 city funding for nonprofits hoping to provide shelter to the homeless. The RFP marks the first time in over a decade that the city has opened up its shelter funding process to competitive bidding – largely because for years only a limited number of nonprofits have operated most of our city’s shelters. A number of sweeping changes and bewildering assumptions are buried in the RFP’s thick bureaucratese. Happily, Erica C. Barnett saves me the trouble of decoding it by doing a fine job here of breaking down what the document means.
In short, most of the $30 million in shelter funding available from the city is dedicated to shelters that funnel their guests into “Rapid Rehousing,” the Pathways Home program that focuses on giving people three-to-nine month vouchers to cover renting private market housing. Another $20 million in city funding will go to programs like hygiene centers that are no longer considered part of the shelter system and are thus outside the scope of the RFP.
A few specifics of the RFP and its implications are worth highlighting:
First, as I reported earlier in June, for the last month the city has been telling current shelter providers that in order to be eligible for the new funding, they must allow 24/7 access to their shelter space rather than only providing emergency night shelter – a requirement that will disqualify almost all of the current, mostly church-based locations.
This becomes a neat bureaucratic trick for destroying Seattle’s existing emergency shelter system without claiming to do so: “Well, we have all this money for shelters, but nobody applied for it…” It’s a similar trick to claiming that the city has unused shelter capacity on many nights – which is true, if you include, for example, the places with mandatory hours that conflict with job requirements, or which have proprietary religious worship as an all-but-compulsory part of the package, or that have other alienating conditions that many homeless people find even more problematic than sleeping outdoors.
The “but we’re funding shelters, really!” ruse becomes more obvious with Pathways Home’s own language, which promises as part of its Rapid Rehousing scam to “rightsize” the “survival services and permanent housing imbalance between shelter beds available and housing available.” Since, in the first months of Rapid Rehousing, there’s already reportedly a 6,000 person waiting list for a program that’s now placing literally scores of people in permanent housing; and since the number of people living on Seattle’s streets overwhelms the roughly 3,000 shelter beds available on a given night; this translates to: “We don’t want to embarrass ourselves by being unable to place shelter guests into housing that doesn’t exist, so we won’t offer them shelter, either.” If you’re not signed up for nonexistent housing, you’re on your own.
In the corporate world, “rightsizing” has been used exclusively for a generation now as a euphemism for “cutting,” as in, “we’re going to buy this company and rightsize its workforce.” That never, ever, ever means “we’re going to hire more people.” And in a corporate-modeled program like Rapid Rehousing, the semantic tricks are identical.
And make no mistake: Rapid Rehousing is a scam, in terms of what it promises and what it can do. For most homeless individuals, being expected after a few months to pay market rates for rental housing is a near-certain ticket back to homelessness.
There are a few situations in which a few months’ subsidy is all people need: individuals recovering from illness or who find a job after a period of unemployment, for example. But many homeless people already work, and still can’t afford Seattle’s skyrocketing rents – now approaching a median cost of $2,000 a month for a one-bedroom apartment. If you’re homeless simply because you’re poor, tough luck.
If you have sufficient earning capacity but first need to be “fixed” – given help for substance abuse issues, say, or job retraining, or assistance recovering from a messy divorce – Pathways Home and its wraparound (and highly expensive) case management can definitely help. But the baseline problem with Pathways Home is that it is based on an outdated, paternalistic notion of who is homeless and why. In this view, if people are homeless it’s because they have personal problems – not because they have been failed by institutions or public policies that, to pick a not-random example, encouraged an unprecedented crisis in Seattle’s affordable private market housing without adequately funding public housing in turn.
Once again this week it was announced that Seattle had the fastest-growing rents of any major city in the nation – a news item treated as completely unrelated to HSD’s unrealistic RFP rehousing targets.
What Housing Crisis?
In the Pathways Home universe, if you’re homeless, for whatever reason, it’s your own damn fault. The city certainly didn’t have anything to do with it. The very DNA of Pathways Home is a mixture of outdated paternalism, right-wing judgmentalism, and bureaucratic ass-covering. (“If they’re still homeless, it’s because they didn’t want to be helped.”)
Seattle’s affordable housing crisis is treated as a vaguely relevant externality having nothing to do with why people live under bridges. As always, this is justified by DATA!! The same bureaucratic types that for decades have been meeting poverty or inflation reduction goals by changing the definition of poverty or excluding inflationary costs (like housing, health care, and other essentials) from the Consumer Price Index – these are the types of definitional tricks at work and play here. And there are two major ones in this week’s RFP.
First, the goals set forth for successful funding bids to meet are predicated heavily on success in rehousing a shelter’s guests in “permanent housing.” (Barnett does a good job explaining what does and does not count in these types of definitions.) Transitional housing, of the type provided by the Low Income Housing Institute (LIHI) and others, doesn’t count as a successful outcome, because it’s not permanent – but private market vouchers do count as a successful outcome, regardless of whether their residents can continue to afford rent after the vouchers expire.
In other words, underwriting someone’s rent for a few months in an apartment they can’t otherwise afford is considered a Pathways Home success. If they have to move to a friend’s couch or some abandoned doorway afterwards, that doesn’t count as a failure – in fact, it’s not considered at all, unless the newly re-homelessized (is that a word?) sign up for the Pathways Home shelter system, with its fake permanent housing track, all over again after their vouchers expire. Then, they’re just another newly homeless person, with no relationship to their previous experience. In neither case are they tallied as returning to homelessness.
This amounts to a guarantee for the provider (and Pathways Home) of either a 100 percent or a 50 percent success rate in placing an individual in permanent housing – for an individual that, after a year or more in the system, still has no permanent home. Aren’t statistics fun?
Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics
To the extent that Pathways Home does acknowledge Seattle’s brutal housing market, once again, it’s relying on old news. From Barnett’s article:
According to the RFP, “Data does not currently show us if people are being housed in their communities of choice or displaced to other locations.” Pathways Home, however, explicitly states that part of solving homelessness in Seattle may involve moving people to “housing that is a considerable distance from work or which creates a substantial rent burden”—in other words, housing that may be unaffordable and far away from Seattle. “While these are not ideal situations, they are all better than the alternative of homelessness,”
The missing data echoes the Department of Justice’s inability earlier this decade to determine whether there was any systematic racial bias in the Seattle Police Department’s policing, because SPD simply didn’t keep the relevant data. However, the idea that a program can rely on private market housing for Seattle’s homeless by uprooting them from existing jobs, families, and support networks, and moving them to Federal Way or Kent or Lynnwood, was problematic enough even when those areas had housing that was more affordable than Seattle’s.
And guess what. “Housing that may be [or is] unaffordable” is only “better than the alternative of homelessness” for a short while, until the resident has exhausted his or her financial reserves and is homeless again. Then, it’s exactly the same as being homeless, except that it’s a Pathways Home success story. As captured by Data.
And even that flawed premise of cheaper rent in the far suburbs no longer applies. Exorbitant rents are now the norm throughout Puget Sound. On average, you might save $100 a month in rent living in Auburn – maybe – but if you have to go to Seattle for a job, or for any other reason, more than a couple of times a week, additional transportation costs will eat up even those marginal savings with a significant additional loss of time and quality of life. But “we can ship them to distant suburbs” is an easy CYA reassurance from and for policy-makers for whom such considerations are almost always pocket change. As a bonus, it appeals to that segment of policymakers whose preference for dealing with the homeless is just to make them go away.
This all adds up to the most fatal of the many flaws in Pathways Home’s faith-based approach to manipulated data. Barnett again:
A report from a homeless advocacy group in Washington, D.C., which implemented a Pathways Home-style rapid rehousing system, found that many families fell off the “rapid rehousing cliff” when their vouchers ran out and they had to pay full market rent for their apartments; indeed, all the studies that have concluded that rapid rehousing is a success were in markets where rents are a fraction of what they cost in Seattle, such as Houston, Phoenix, and Salt Lake City.
So What Does Work?
That RFP, from the city’s Human Services Department, was on Tuesday. Then, on Thursday, came this:
Seattle’s city-sponsored homeless camps are working even better than expected. That’s the short version of a report just released by the Seattle Human Services Department reviewing the first year and a half of camps in Ballard, Interbay and Othello. The camps — comprised of tiny houses and/or tents on platforms—are administered by the homeless advocacy and services groups SHARE and Nickelsville. Based on data from the federal Homeless Information Management System (HMIS) from September 2015 through May 2017, the report says that 759 people have lived in the camps and 121 of them found a “safe, permanent place to live.”
“The City-permitted encampments have met and exceeded the contracted performance measures,” [HSD’s report] reads. “The model is successfully serving people who have been living outside in greenbelts, on the streets, in cars and in hazardous situations.”
That conclusion isn’t surprising; it echoes what homeless people and their advocates have claimed for years. The source, however, is surprising. HSD has been at war with SHARE and Nickelsville for just as many of those years, primarily over its discomfort with the self-management model those two groups use, allowing homeless guests themselves to run the shelters and encampments they live in. Despite a decades-long track record of success, that sort of empowerment model still makes paternalistic, control-minded bureaucrats – public and nonprofit alike – deeply uncomfortable.
Even more interesting are the results HSD found so successful: 121 of 759 encampment residents finding permanent housing, or about 16 percent. Remember that the city only grudgingly agreed to fund encampments in the first place once it became blindingly obvious that the city didn’t have anywhere near enough indoor emergency shelter capacity to meet the demand. These three existing outdoor encampments were funded specifically as overflow: equivalents in function to indoor shelters.
So compare that outcome with Tuesday’s RFP, which defines success for emergency shelters steering guests into permanent housing as: 50 percent for single persons, youth and young adults, and 80 percent for families. In other words, the Nickelsville success rate that thrilled HSD came two days after the same department issued an RFP demanding that bidders meet a success rate three to five times higher.
This leads to two conclusions: First, that the city’s homelessness program is deeply, internally incoherent. And second, that the goals laid out in the RFP are an incentive nearly certain to result in manipulation of data to show “success” that, like Seattle’s affordable private market housing, simply doesn’t exist.
Homeless Lives Matter
Meanwhile, for the past two weeks, parts of Seattle have been in a justified uproar over the June 18 killing of Charleena Lyles by two Seattle Police Department officers. The investigation is ongoing, but there is already plenty of publicly available information to make clear that Lyles didn’t need to die – but that the institution responsible for her death will hold itself legally and morally blameless.
So what are we to do with the fact that according to the King County Medical Examiner, a record 48 homeless people died in the first four months of 2017 alone – compared to 91 in all of 2016 – and that was almost certainly an undercount?
Of those 48 deaths, six were due to opiate overdoses; another four were homicides. An unusually cold winter accounted for a spike in deaths. But in many cases, the deaths are a combination of factors. Poverty. Illness from a weakened immunue system and/or lack of access to timely medical care is common. People can have substance abuse or mental health issues, but it’s always hard to tell whether those predated and helped cause the homelessness, were exacerbated by homelessness, or were a result of it. If you had to struggle to find safe shelter each day, you might self-medicate, too, but the lack of an affordable apartment could still be the root cause of your homelessness.
Now, none of those deaths were at the direct, violent hands of public employees. Certainly none were executed in front of their own small children by the people they asked for help from, the way Charleena Lyles was. Lyles’ death was viscerally horrifying.
But the City of Seattle seems intent on a homelessness approach that dismantles much of an emergency shelter system that keeps peoples alive – and does so in favor of a “permanent” housing approach that helps fewer people, at a higher cost per person, and steers them into housing that will often be only a temporary mirage.
Regardless of any professed intent to help, the architects of those public policies kill people as dead as if they were struck by officers’ bullet.
When politicians and bureaucrats decide upon and then implement policies that they know will inevitably endanger lives – lives of our community’s residents who are least able to fend off such challenges – a certain number of those people are predictably going to die. They will die despite the many committed, well-intentioned people on the ground doing their best to help with what they have.
What they have going forward looks like it will be a system predicated on blaming the homeless themselves for what are, in many cases, institutional and policy failures. They are policies designed to play well to the rafters, regardless of their actual impact on the ground. (“But we have DATA!!”)
Our city’s emerging Nonprofit-Homeless Industrial Complex seems predicated on approaches where the control rests with the service providers rather than their constituents – not just because those constituents lack specialized skills or experience, but because they’re considered morally inferior and need fixing. (Because what’s the alternative?)
The problems start at the top – with policymakers whose primary concern with homelessness is funding, public perceptions, or optics, rather than the homeless themselves. That’s why the homeless themselves are virtually the only stakeholders who are never, ever in the room, or even consulted, when policies governing their lives are crafted and adopted.
The great contributions of the #BlackLivesMatter movement have been twofold: to use the system’s most spectacular (and irreversible) failures, like the killing of Charleena Lyles, to also highlight the smaller but far more numerous racially based abuses that our law enforcement system inflicts on a daily basis; and to give a collective voice to the people who for far too long have suffered those abuses in obscurity.
We learned this week – or at least, Seattle’s Human Services Department acknowledged this week – that on balance, shelters managed by the homeless themselves continue to have very good outcomes. That’s a lesson that needs to be internalized throughout Seattle’s Nonprofit-Homeless Industrial Complex. The homeless themselves have voices. They have relevant experiences. They, too, demand accountability.
It’s a lesson too many of Seattle’s elected officials and candidates and department heads will find counter-intuitive – but that’s their problem. Homeless lives matter.
Tonight, the Seattle City Council is holding a special public meeting at 6 PM at the University of Washington’s Kane Hall to hear public concerns about the June 18 killing of Charleena Lyles in her home by two Seattle Police Department officers.
Last week, I posted an article suggesting that the three most helpful targets for activists in the wake of her death were the state legislature (to reform the uniquely impossible legal requirements in our state that shield on-duty law enforcement personnel who misuse deadly force); the federal court overseeing the city’s consent decree that mandates reforms in the Seattle Police Department; and the city’s ongoing contract negotiations with the two unions that represent officers and management within SPD. That’s relevant due to union objections to, among other things relevant to this incident, body cameras, less-lethal weapon requirements, and crisis intervention training.
City council members have no direct influence with any of these. Some are privy to the union negotiations, but even those are managed by the Executive Branch, currently under Mayor Ed Murray; and the negotiations, if they’re happening at all, are held in secret. No city official will comment on them tonight, and nobody from the council or SPD is about to say anything meaningful about the ongoing internal investigation of Lyles’ shooting. We’re unlikely to learn much tonight, and council isn’t relevant to the most immediate, urgent, and achievable activist goals.
There are a lot of unanswered questions about Charleena Lyles’ death – questions that council members and local media need to be asking, too. What follows is a necessarily incomplete list of important ones, along with a couple of suggestions for things the city council can and should do. And to be clear, activists need to keep bringing the heat long after tonight’s meeting has come and gone.
The questions fall in three broad categories.
The Shooting Itself
Because Officers McNew and Anderson have claimed they feared for their lives, and because SPD’s use of force guidelines permit deadly force when an assailant with a knife is within 21 feet (as Lyles was), the officers will likely face no legal consequences for killing Charleena Lyles. But there are still far too many inconsistencies in their accounts that need to be addressed.
What was the knife or knives Lyles was allegedly using? Where did it, or they, come from, and when did she get them?
Did she get behind one of the officers, or between them and the door? Was she shot from behind by one of the officers?
Both officers had batons, and one had pepper spray. Why weren’t they used instead of deadly force?
Did the officers believe Lyles posed a threat to the three children in the room?
Why didn’t officers try to disarm the diminutive Lyles? Why didn’t they simply leave, barricade the door, and call for backup?
Before the Shooting
On June 5, two weeks before Lyles’ death, a similar home visit by SPD officers resulted in a nearly identical turn in her mood. In that incident, she threatened officers with a large pair of scissors. Unlike June 18, she was talked down, arrested, and as a result also had a subsequent appearance in mental health court. All this was noted in SPD’s database and accessed on June 18.
So, first of all, why did officers even respond to her call?
Lyles called 911 to report a suspected home burglary in which she believed an XBox was stolen. It wasn’t a burglary in progress, and it wasn’t an urgent call. Many citizens reporting such burglaries never even get visited by officers; they’re told to fill out a report online, or SPD takes a report over the phone.
Given the very recent history of a threatened attack on officers in her home, why did SPD even send officers to her home again?
Instead, they arrived in 45 minutes, discussing her June 5 incident and mental health status but apparently failing to prepare for the possibility, let alone likelihood, that it might happen again.
Why didn’t the officers meet Lyles in the apartment hallway or outside, where her movements would be more visible and no household objects were at hand (like a kitchen knife) that could be weaponized?
Going inside, why didn’t they have some sort of barrier between themselves and Lyles. Why didn’t they stay near the front door where they could retreat easily if needed?
Why didn’t an officer make sure the kids were moved to a different room, so mom could talk to the officers in private? (And the kids would be safe if mom suddenly had one of her moods.) If there weren’t enough officers, why not wait for backup? Or – again – why were they there at all?
Both officers had SPD’s crisis intervention training; one of them was considered a specialist, with 40 hours of training. None of their actions reflected that training.
Is the training itself deficient? Or is the training fine, but some officers simply don’t take it seriously?
The Social Safety Net
Lost in the shooting itself, and the reality of yet another black life extinguished by white law enforcement, is a local social safety net that failed Lyles at nearly every turn.
Charleena Lyles had four children by multiple fathers, and was pregnant with a fifth. She had a history of substance abuse. She was recently homeless and had been placed in her low-income housing through a nonprofit. Four kids, a pregnancy, and serious poverty are enormously stressful for anyone, even without the onset of serious mental illness. Yet Lyles seems to have had almost no help navigating all of this. The home was a mess.
Why didn’t she seem to have a home helper to help her cope with all the kids and a new home? Where were the fathers, or any kind of community support before she died?
How was she managing financially with a new home (when very recently she didn’t have one) and five mouths to feed? How precarious and stressful was her money situation? Did she have any kind of help with child care, or with navigating the often confusing, intentionally humiliating, and endlessly time-consuming “helping” social service agencies?
What kind of treatment did she have, or not have, for her mental illness? She reportedly had a prescription, but didn’t take the medication because she feared it would impact her pregnancy. That’s a perfectly reasonable, and serious, concern, one any competent health care provider or pharmacist should take pains to avoid – but apparently didn’t. Moreover, many anti-psychotic drugs can help with the illness but leave the patient sluggish and struggling to function – let alone able to manage four young kids. Lyles had every card stacked against her, and very few people seemed to care.
We live in a country where access to health care, especially mental health care, is a catastrophe, especially for poor people. Institutional racism is also a thing here – as it is in every aspect of a social safety net that found a home for Lyles and her children, but apparently did very little to help her cope with the kids, the pregnancy, the poverty, and a debilitating illness that resulted in her lashing out at SPD officers on two separate occasions this month. We know how the second one ended.
What Seattle City Council Can Do
Most of these concerns won’t be relevant in questions to council members tonight. (Though remember that local media, and through them the general public, is also in the room.) But two areas are very much relevant:
Council members amend and approve the city’s budget; that process for 2018 begins this fall, and emergency supplements can happen at any time.
Charleena Lyles was vividly failed by our city’s social services and health care access. But so are thousands of other Seattleites who are still very much alive. If Lyles snapped in part because she was stressed and overwhelmed coping, and not getting adequate help, council members need to honor her by taking a hard look at how to better fund those services and how to make them more accessible and user-friendly.
Council also has an oversight function with SPD. In the Lyles case, that’s important for two related reasons.
The first is that after years of union and political obstruction, there remains no meaningful civilian oversight of SPD.
That is only one example of something that would help with a second, much broader problem, which will be on full display tonight. For all that public officials and SPD leadership has touted the reform process, SPD has done almost nothing to even acknowledge, let alone try to repair, its long legacy of abuse and the serious distrust for SPD among many local communities, especially among people of color.
The details of the Lyles case are important, but ultimately, they’re not why so many people are enraged. They’re enraged because yet another black life has been extinguished by local law enforcement, with every indication that Charleena Lyles didn’t have to die. The anger over Lyles is anger over literally decades of abuses, large and small, abuses that in many cases continue. You can’t understand the furor over the death of Charleena Lyles without that context.
City Council oversees SPD and its budget, but it also has the right to demand big-picture priorities. And council members need to demand that SPD’s reform process extend beyond hiring, training, internal policies, and all the other pieces of trying to redeem decades of cultural rot in the department. Those are all critical steps. But so long as SPD continues to treat whole communities like The Enemy – and so long as those communities expect SPD to treat them like The Enemy – the reform process means little. SPD needs to start working proactively, and hard, to earn the trust of all of Seattle’s residents. And council members can and should have something to say about that. Tonight.
The officers involved almost certainly won’t face any legal consequences for Charleena Lyles’ death. But the problems that led to her death are mostly recurring and institutional – and can be fixed.
UPDATE #1 6-23-17: In a classic Friday evening news dump to minimize coverage of unflattering news, SPD has released the interview transcripts from McNew and Anderson, the officers who killed Lyles. It’s bad.
They say both had batons, and Anderson also had pepper spray; and that McNew asked Anderson to use a Taser, but Anderson replied that he didn’t have one. That exchange indicates that there was time, measured in seconds, for the pair to make a decision that didn’t involve the summary execution of Charleena Lyles.
The diagrams accompanying the officers’ interview transcript are even more problematic. They indicate that McNew let Lyles get between him and the door – something that, prior to entering, the officers had specifically discussed NOT allowing Lyles to do. If that’s true, it also means that McNew – the more experienced officer, and the one with 40-hour crisis intervention training – very likely shot Lyles in the back. If she turned to face McNew at the last second, Anderson would have had to shoot her from behind.
The medical examiner’s report will, hopefully, tell us. If it doesn’t find that Lyles was shot from behind, it means either the officers’ diagram is inaccurate, or the medical examiners’ finding is inaccurate. And, again, body cameras would have recorded this critical detail.
= = =
When Charleena Lyles was shot and killed in her home last Sunday, June 18 by two Seattle Police Department (SPD) officers, in front of three of her four children, family and community alike erupted with calls for justice.
That’s not going to happen.
SPD spokespeople say the officers opened fire during an otherwise routine visit, after Lyles had called to report a burglary, because Lyles suddenly brandished a knife at them. (Subsequent reports have claimed Lyles had two knives.) The officers’ audio recordings of the incident show the time between when the tone of the visit suddenly changed from routine to alarmed, to when Lyles was shot dead, was a mere 14 seconds.
Activists should understand that for much of the general public – read general white public – Lyles is an unsympathetic figure, in many ways a stereotype of the worst characteristics assigned to African-American mothers. She was poor, living in low-income housing; a single mother, she had four children, with a fifth on the way; she had a history of convictions and documented drug use; and had struggled recently with mental illness, but reportedly wasn’t taking her prescribed medication, fearing – quite reasonably – side effects that would harm her pregnancy.
Meanwhile, superficially, the two SPD officers involved in the shooting, Steven McNew and Jason Anderson, seemed to do everything right. McNew had completed a full 40-hour training in “crisis intervention certification,” the SPD training that makes officers go-to resources in calls that involve mental health issues. Anderson also had the shorter, eight-hour version of the CIC training, which SPD now emphasizes as part of the federal Department of Justice-mandated reform process a federal court now enforces.
Lyles’ mental health problems were a matter of record for the SPD, especially due to a June 5 incident stemming from a call from Lyles – unrelated to last weekend’s burglary call – in which Lyles’ mood suddenly shifted and she threatened responding officers with a pair of scissors. That incident ended peacefully, but with Lyles charged and later attending a hearing in mental health court.
As a result, McNew, the CIC specialist, was one of the responding officers on June 18, and he and Anderson can be heard on both their audio, their car’s dashcam, and apartment complex hallway surveillance video discussing Lyles’ history before entering her apartment. Once they did so, it was a routine, professional call until, as on June 5, the tone suddenly shifted. A few seconds later, Lyles was dead.
When confronted with a knife, police officers are ordered to shoot if they fear for their lives and the would-be assailant is within 21 feet – seven steps, the time it takes for an officer to draw his or her service weapon, remove the safety, aim, and fire. There is no known video of the shooting itself, but Lyles’ subsidized housing almost certainly left less than 21 feet between her and the officers. Depending on the distance, there may also have not been time to use a less lethal alternative – beyond which, with a knife attack, some less lethal weapons won’t help because they take too long to deploy (e.g., a spooling taser) or an assailant can still lunge forward even as the weapon is deployed (e.g., chemical agents like pepper spray).
Much of the general public, including some people who are otherwise sympathetic to the Black Lives Matter movement, aren’t alarmed at these details. As one progressive white acquaintance noted to me this week, “What were they [the officers] supposed to do?”
As it turns out, there was plenty that could have been done differently. Charleena Lyles did not have to die.
Balanced against these seemingly exonerating details is the visceral horror anyone with a soul feels for Lyles’ death: a diminutive, pregnant mother of four killed in front of three of her own children. Activist response has been the largest of any local incident in the #BLM era, including the 2016 shooting death of Che Taylor. Anecdotally, even many SPD officers were aghast at Lyles’ death.
That doesn’t mean there will be any legal consequences, though; absent a surprising medical examiner revelation (e.g., Lyles was shot from behind), the only evidence in the shooting itself is the audio recordings and the reports of McNew and Anderson. There is nothing to contradict their narrative of a sudden, mortal threat – and officers can’t be charged if they legitimately believe their lives to be in danger.
It’s virtually inconceivable that prosecutors could rebut that standard in the death of Charleena Lyles – let alone that a jury would then convict the officers of any charges. And because of the complexities of Lyles’ case, it also seems unlikely that Lyles’ death will spark any broad public outcry beyond the existing #BLM movement.
But that doesn’t mean Lyles should have died. And it doesn’t mean changes should not be demanded.
What They Could Have Done
Much of the activist wrath this past week has been generated by the simple, visceral reality of another black life taken by a department with a long, sordid history of racially based abuse. But the details in Lyles’ case are far from exonerating, for either McNew and Anderson or for SPD. Why did SPD’s visit to Lyles’ home on June 5 end peacefully, but the one on June 18 – when they were supposedly better prepared to deal with Lyles’ mental health struggles – didn’t? Why, of the countless interactions each day between SPD officers and mentally ill individuals, did this one end so badly?
Much activist criticism has focused on ways to disarm Lyles or de-escalate the situation without gunfire. SPD says the officers were carrying a less-lethal weapon, as required. They’ve said the officers didn’t have tasers, and no batons are visible on the officers in the outside videos. That most likely leaves pepper spray, possibly the least effective weapon for deflecting a potential knife attack in close quarters (or with children present). But it would still have been better than killing her. Why didn’t they use it?
And why was that the only apparent alternative on hand? Lyles’ history, and the risks she presented, were known and discussed in advance of the visit. SPD took the time, on a non-urgent call (the burglary was not in progress), to find an officer with 40-hour CIC training. They could also have taken the time to ensure the officers had adequate choices for defending themselves from a repeat of the June 5 incident. (Of course, we don’t know whether the officers did bring such alternatives, but simply left them in the trunk.) Why didn’t the officers have batons, a far better weapon to deflect a knife attack? For that matter, with kids present, the risks of simply physically disarming the diminutive Lyles were serious but relatively minor weighed against the alternatives – and could have been reduced further with Kevlar or other protective clothing. Officers could also have brought, or improvised, any sort of portable barrier. Lastly, and most obviously, depending on whether they thought Lyles’ children were in danger, they could have chosen to simply leave, barricading the apartment door and calling for backup. If they thought the kids were in danger, protecting the kids – not protecting themselves by leaving the children traumatized and motherless – should have been their top priority.
All of these options depend on where in the apartment the officers, the door, Lyles, and her children were. But since there’s no audio evidence of the children moving during the incident, three of those four elements were under the officers’ control at all times.
And needless to say, if this is how SPD trains its crisis intervention specialists, a hard look needs to be taken at that training. But that’s hardly the only institutional problem that has clouded Lyles’ death.
There’s no visual record of her killing because, seven years after body cameras for SPD officers were first approved, and with funding in place to equip every officer, McNew and Anderson weren’t wearing them. Many SPD officers don’t, because their union, the notoriously reactionary Seattle Police Officers’ Guild (SPOG), has opposed them – as they’ve opposed virtually every reform under the DoJ consent decree. Similarly, officers are required to carry a less-lethal weapon, but they have the right, encoded in their union contract, to be able to refuse to carry any particular one. If, say, McNew didn’t have pepper spray with him because he doesn’t like using it, that’s his right, negotiated by his union and agreed to by the city.
Similarly, just because training in mental health intervention (the eight-hour training) is required doesn’t mean officers have to take it seriously. The long-running problems uncovered by the Department of Justice’s investigation – echoing decades of community complaints – paint a picture of a department whose cultural rot extended from top to bottom. Under the reign of SPD Chief Kathleen O’Toole, brought in in 2014 to help implement reforms, there have in fact been some improvements. But corrupted cultures don’t shift quickly, and SPOG in particular has been an unapologetic champion of the department’s Old Ways – and the officers and commanders, some now sidelined by O’Toole, who flourished in them.
Currently, SPOG is working on an expired contract with the city. A new contract was resoundingly rejected by SPOG members last July, and there’s been no public signs of progress on a new agreement since then. Moreover, the SPOG leaders who negotiated that contract – which basically traded a pay increase for accepting court-ordered reforms – were ousted in favor of old hard-liners. SPD’s management union, the Seattle Police Management Association (SPMA), is also negotiating a new contract, and that’s been further complicated by O’Toole’s having staffed top leadership posts with her own people rather than some with more seniority. In both cases, the unions present major impediments to implementing reforms, and the city, under Mayor Ed Murray as in past regimes, has been reluctant to seriously demand them. Moreover, any draft agreement also has to be approved by the federal court overseeing the DoJ consent decree. It’s little wonder contract negotiations are at an impasse.
The unions, especially SPOG, have also been fiercely resistant to any meaningful civilian oversight. The Office for Professional Accountability (OPA), the city’s attempt at such accountability, was grudgingly accepted by SPD during a previous wave of demands to curb SPD abuses, but only because it was set up to be toothless, dominated by law enforcement interests, and limited to reviewing, without subpoena power, previous internal SPD investigations. Under the reform process, its scope and powers have expanded a bit, but it still hasn’t proven itself a significant check on SPD abuses. Another product of the reform process, the Community Police Commission, has been more representative of community concerns, but so far the CPC has mostly been ignored under Murray in police reform discussions.
Without a civilian body with the ability to independently investigate an incident like Lyles’ death, investigation falls to an SPD internal investigation – sometimes farmed out to a different agency, like the King County Sheriff’s Office or the Washington State Patrol, if there’s an institutional conflict of interest. All on-duty killings also get a hearing at a coroner’s inquest that determines the cause and circumstances of death.
Beyond the union contracts, the impediments to legal accountability for officers are formidable. On rare occasions, a self-defense claim by an officer can be rejected, as in the highest-profile on-duty law enforcement killing in recent local history, the 2010 killing of Native American woodcarver John T. Williams by SPD officer Ian Birk. In that case, the mortal threat confronting Birk was Williams, oblivious, walking down the street carving a piece of wood with a small woodcarving knife. He never saw the officer who shot and killed him from behind.
Jurors at Williams’ inquest rejected Birk’s claim that he feared for his life. Instead, they found the shooting “unjustified,” the only instance in literally hundreds of cases since King County enacted its current inquest system 45 years ago in which a law enforcement killing hasn’t been found to be “justified.” But even then, Birk couldn’t be charged. State law not only offers the fear-for-one’s-life defense, but requires that prosecutors show the officer had personal malice directed toward his or her victim – a near-impossible legal standard not found in any other state. Birk was never charged; SPD fired him, but he was free to find work with another law enforcement agency.
McNew and Anderson won’t be charged, either. But there are still plenty of useful, achievable changes that activists should demand.
What We Want
Many of the issues raised by Charleena Lyles’ death aren’t specific to Lyles, and focusing on them rather than Lyles herself sidesteps the tendency of some people (and not a few local media outlets) to focus on passing judgment on Lyles’ life. Whatever her struggles, the symptoms publicly reported are consistent with the onset in many women in their late 20s of schizophrenia, an illness that can be compounded during pregnancy. Whatever her diagnosis, she had no control over her actions on June 5 or on June 18. She didn’t deserve to die over them, and McNew and Anderson didn’t need to kill her. And in similar future cases, there are a whole lot of institutional changes that could help. Broadly, they fall into two categories: law enforcement-related changes and social safety net changes.
1) Social Safety Net Reforms: SPD officers frequently need to deal with homelessness, substance abuse, and other social safety net issues precisely because the government resources directed to these issues are inadequate and, at times, poorly designed and implemented. Mental health is no exception, and over the past two decades there is a long roster of unfortunate incidents involving SPD officers and individuals with mental health issues. Cops shouldn’t have to be safety net first responders – but since they are, clearly the training McNew received, and what he did or didn’t learn from it, needs review. And funding for mental health treatment programs needs to be expanded dramatically.
That, in turn, is a subset of access to health care generally, now under ferocious assault by congressional Republicans – especially Medicaid and other programs helping lower-income Americans. When those changes come, at minimum state and city budgets need to make up the difference. That will take a lot of public pressure.
2) Law enforcement reforms: Under the reform process, SPD has done remarkably to try to heal the community distrust cemented by decades of systemic abuses, often directed against poor and non-white Seattleites. SPD’s reform plan needs to get serious about such efforts.
Institutionally, there are three levels at which activists need to focus demands in the wake of Charleena Lyles’ death:
The federal court overseeing the DoJ consent decree: The Department of Justice, under Jefferson Beauregard Sessions III and Donald Trump, no longer much cares when cops kill black people. (Or anyone else.) But the consent decree, negotiated under the Obama DoJ and now in the hands of a federal judge and court-appointed monitor, is beyond the current DoJ’s reach. And it needs to step up. Charleena Lyles’ death is directly related to the implementation of court-ordered reforms, particularly concerning use of force policies and CIC training. An internal SPD investigation and review of Lyles’ death won’t cut it, not when it involves factors the court has already found deficient within SPD. The court needs to authorize its own investigation, and the public needs to demand it.
Those union contracts: Any new agreements with SPOG or SPMA need to pass muster with the court, but city officials need to press much, much harder for contract changes that allow SPD to become more accountable and less a law unto itself. Ironically, body camera video might well provide conclusive evidence to back up the McNew/Anderson narrative of Lyles’ death – and any number of other incidents in which officers’ integrity or actions are publicly challenged. Similarly, choice of weapons, better training, meaningful civilian oversight, and any number of other reforms are stalling not just because of union resistance, but because politicians like Ed Murray have been reluctant to push harder. They need public encouragement on this score. A lot of it. And, next January, a new mayor will take office, and he or she needs pressure, too, before and after the election. (Voters should remember that the current conventional favorite in the mayoral race, Jenny Durkan, was the U.S. Attorney for Western Washington who declined to bring federal civil rights charges in the 2010 killing of John T. Williams.)
Olympia: Finally, the state law that effectively prevents prosecution of cops who kill without proper justification needs desperately to be changed. That won’t happen this legislative year, but 2018 is another matter. Lawmakers also need to be pushed hard next year on health care and mental health funding.
Meanwhile, the state legislature isn’t the only option for law enforcement prosecution reform. I-873, an initiative that would change our state’s uniquely “regressive and dangerous” use of force standards, is currently collecting signatures. You can find out more about it at the home page of Washington for Good Policing.
Ultimately, the challenge of Charleena Lyles’ death isn’t that it was a rare type of incident – it’s that it’s not rare enough. The sooner that we can address mental health care access and pressure the federal court (consent decree), the city (union contracts), and the state (use of force laws), the less likely that future Charleena Lyles are to be killed by the people charged with protecting them.
[Author’s note: Ironically, I had hoped to post this article earlier this week, but was delayed by both additional details being made public and by personal health and money crises. If you find my reporting and commentary valuable – and would like to see me spending more time doing this and less time stressing over how I can pay for food, rent, and medical care myself – please consider donating whatever you can to help support my work. The PayPal button is on the lower right on geov.org’s home page. Many thanks for your help! – Geov Parrish]
Capping a catastrophic year for homelessness policy, the city is now quietly preparing to dismantle its shelter network, in favor of “permanent” housing that simply doesn’t exist
Two weeks ago, the Puget Sound region’s homelessness pandemic was back in the news, with the release of the long-delayed Winter 2017 point-in-time census of King County’s homeless. The numbers and local media coverage of them were both bad. But for the homeless, what’s going on behind the scenes is even worse.
Far from leaving the mess for a new executive to tackle in six months, lame duck Seattle mayor Ed Murray and his appointees are proceeding as fast as they can with the mayor’s ill-considered “Pathways Home” approach. In doing so, the city is poised to irreparably harm far more people than it will help. It’s hard to avoid the conclusion that what Murray is spearheading – with generous assistance from local media and significant parts of the Nonprofit Homelessness-Industrial Complex – is nothing more than a particularly vicious escalation of previous attempts to “solve” homelessness by attacking the homeless themselves. If we make their lives miserable enough, the thinking is apparently going, perhaps they’ll just go away. It’s worked great so far, right?
The Homelessness Emergency
Eighteen months ago, in late 2015, Both Murray and King County Executive Dow Constantine formally declared states of emergency for the region’s homelessness crisis. This move was one of several that generated significant new funding, at least $55 million, to tackle the problem. A few weeks later, in January 2016, the county’s annual One Night Count posted alarming numbers that justified the declarations. The 2016 count found over 4,500 people living outdoors in King County, and over 10,000 people homeless overall. Those numbers, gathered in the dead of winter, were a staggering 19 percent increase over the previous record Winter 2015 numbers.
For context, in all of Seattle there are about 3800 shelter beds on any given winter night; less in non-winter months.
In the 16 months since that 2016 count, a lot has happened. Murray protected his program of aggressively sweeping homeless encampments – including, most visibly, the Summer 2016 destruction of the long-running unsanctioned encampment known as The Jungle – from city council legislation that would have protected homeless individuals from the chronic capriciousness of city sweeps. Murray then announced – with the support of $80,000 consultant Barbara Poppe – “Pathways Home,” an approach meant to emphasize finding permanent housing for the unhoused. Murray has also launched, last summer, a program to safely park RVs and other vehicles being used for shelter by homeless people; announced, in October 2016, the opening by December of a 75-bed, full-service shelter modeled on San Francisco’s Navigation Center; and announced funding for four new city-sanctioned encampments. Meanwhile, city voters last summer approved a $290 million housing levy with unprecedented funds for affordable housing, and earlier this year the city council added another $29 million for the same purpose.
And as anyone with eyes can attest, homelessness has gotten even worse in this time. What’s going wrong?
In a word: Everything.
Murray’s sweeps remain. A year after his promise to issue revised, more stringent criteria for enacting them, and several months after successfully killing more stringent city council legislation, in January Murray’s office finally released revised protocols for when and how the city would eradicate unauthorized encampments. (The council legislation had been written by the ACLU and other nonprofit groups who even a year ago had given up on the mayor’s assurances.) The revisions offered modest improvements but failed to address a number of chronic complaints – and also abolished the monitoring program that had revealed the city as frequently not following even its own lax guidelines. If anything, the number and ferocity of the sweeps have only increased in the months since.
But while the sweeps are rightly getting a lot of attention, there have been plenty of other problems, too. A pilot program to open three parking lots for the one-third of all homeless that use their vehicles for shelter opened one lot in Ballard last year for 15 RVs before collapsing after two months, leaving vehicle-dwelling homeless residents again with no stable or safe place to park. The city gave up on its pilot program not only because of neighborhood objections, but because it was somehow spending a bewildering $35,000 a month, or about $1750 per vehicle per month, on the program, before concluding that it wasn’t cost-effective.
In March this year, Murray announced he would put a $275 million property tax measure on this summer’s ballot to address the homelessness crisis – and then scrapped that proposal three weeks later, in favor of a more regressive county-wide sales tax measure in November whose details, let alone prospects, remain uncertain.
Six months past its scheduled December 2016 opening, and having already spent over $2 million on the project, Murray’s “Navigation Center-style” shelter has yet to open – but the city did find a location for it, in January, in a building already used by an existing 75-bed shelter, which it promptly evicted so it could remodel the space. In other words, instead of adding new shelter capacity, the city lost 75 beds in the middle of winter. Similarly, of the three (not four, as had been budgeted) “new” sanctioned encampments Murray actually announced, two already existed – one, intended for relocated Jungle residents, and another, an existing unsanctioned encampment called Camp Second Chance. In other words, after 18 months of emergency, and lots and lots of money, the city really hasn’t helped get all that many people off the streets.
Of course, the point of Pathways Home and its “Rapid Rehousing” focus is to house people, not to shelter them. In the two months between February and April of this year, the most recent for which there is public data, Rapid Rehousing found homes for about 40 people, out of over 6,000 on city waiting lists. Extrapolating from the rate at which local homelessness has been increasing, this means that while Pathways Home proudly touts the number of people it has housed, each month the city is actually losing ground; for every 20 people newly housed, nearly 100 are becoming homeless. And these numbers also don’t reflect the city’s plans to de-fund its existing network of transitional housing.
Even beyond that looming crisis, the housing effort may well get worse still. Rapid Rehousing plans for its “permanent housing” to come in the form of three- to nine-month private market rental vouchers. After the vouchers run out, those same formerly homeless people are expected to pay their own rent, in an open market where the median rent for a one-bedroom apartment is now over $1,700 a month in Seattle overall, and well over $2,000 a month in most of the neighborhoods where social services for low-income residents are located.
In the first four months of 2017, according to the King County Medical Examiner’s office, 48 homeless people died in King County. This means that while the city houses 20 people a month, and scores more each month become homeless, an average of a dozen each month are dying.
Which brings us to the past two weeks.
Count Us Out
After 30 years of an annual One Night Count, organized by the Seattle/King County Coalition on Homelessness, the county’s annual “point-in-time” count was moved this year to the nonprofit All Home, which contracted with a California company to oversee a supposedly more comprehensive census that could be used to inform Murray’s supposedly data-driven policies. Rather than being announced the following day as in past years, this year the rebranded “Count Us In” finally released its numbers four months later, on Wednesday, May 31.
The totals? Over 11,600 homeless in King County, including 5,485 living outdoors without shelter. About 70 percent of those unsheltered folks were sleeping in the city of Seattle. Some 92 percent of those surveyed said they would accept housing if it were offered.
These are numbers our local politicians invariably want before deciding on policies. How many of those 48 deaths from January to April could have been prevented with more timely publication?
On January 27, the low temperature in Seattle was 37. On May 31, a cloudy day, Seattle’s high was “only” 71, and the urgency of getting people off the streets nicely muted. Official reaction to the Count Us In totals, which were a staggering 22 percent higher than the same figures in 2016, was surprisingly blase. Elected officials almost uniformly echoed the official Count Us In conclusions: Our survey was more comprehensive this year, so we can’t really compare from year to year. Apples and oranges. And Count Us In made sure of that, by failing (in its 112 page report) to include neighborhood-by-neighborhood figures that could be directly compared to 2016, instead opting to create its own new county “regions.” Whatever its motivations, the effective result was a one-year free pass for civic leaders worried about accountability.
But we can make apples to apples comparisons, at least roughly, because it’s a statistical fact that increases in rental costs correlate predictably with increases in homelessness. Any increase of $100 in median one-bedroom rents in Seattle, historically, has been reflected in about a 10 percent increase in homelessness. The 19 percent jump in the 2015-2016 One Night Count totals actually exceeded this – and the same rent factor alone predicts most of the 2016-2017 jump in the new All Home numbers.
Since, by its own figures, the number of people being newly housed through the city this past year has been miniscule, there are only a few possibilities: either the 2016 numbers were high; the 2016-17 changes, for unknown reasons, don’t track as well with historical rental price precedent; or, most likely, there really was an over 20 percent jump in homelessness this past year, and Count Us In really wasn’t much more comprehensive this year than the One Night Count was in 2016. It just cost more money, took a lot more time to report back, and gave great cover to politicians who want to look like they’re doing something while actually doing something else.
Behind the Scenes
The morning after Count Us In released its numbers, the city was back to business as usual, evicting RV owners from an unsanctioned encampment at a state-owned lot in West Seattle that they had arrived at only the previous week. They’d landed there only after police chased them off a previous, informal but supposedly city-approved “safe” lot in SoDo in late May.
Meanwhile, Catherine Lester, head of the city’s Human Services Department, has been meeting with the various churches in the city that are the primary locations for overnight emergency shelters. Lester has reportedly been informing church leaders that their shelter contracts will not be renewed unless they can provide 24-hour services – a simply impossible demand for churches whose buildings are usually in heavy use during the day. Such a demand, if enforced in time for the 2018 budget that city council will pass this November (before a new mayor takes office), would effectively destroy the city’s already grossly inadequate emergency indoor shelter network.
But that’s OK, because according to Pathways Home, we’re going to house them all. With temporary private rental market vouchers.
And yes, that’s even more ridiculous than it sounds.
The Enormous Tusked Animal in the Room
You would never know it from the official reactions to the Count Us In numbers – or from the media accounts of them – but it is utterly impossible to solve our region’s homelessness crisis without first meaningfully addressing its even larger affordable housing crisis.
How bad is the affordable housing crisis? Some simple math will illustrate the scale of the catastrophe.
About 150,000 households in Seattle rent their homes. More of these are below Seattle’s median household income (which now tops $80,000 a year) than above it. Except for a few lucky retirees, these households include almost all of the people with incomes below the federal poverty level (FPL), currently $16,240 a year for a two-person household, or even 200 percent of FPL, or $32,480 a year.
If we use the standard metric that households should pay no more than 30 percent of their income in rent, this means that the nearly 100,000 Seattle households at or below 200 percent of FPL should be paying no more than $800 a month in rent. The over 47,000 households at or below federal poverty level should be paying no more than about $400 a month.
An $800 per month rent per household in Seattle’s private rental market is virtually extinct; $400 a month is laughable. That leaves subsidized housing, which is offered in 133 commercial rental properties in Seattle, totaling less than 10,000 units – many of which are affordable at 200 percent of FPL, but not at FPL. Most of those properties have waiting lists that are either closed or exceed two years. Similarly, the waiting list for federal Section 8 vouchers is closed, too, with occasional lotteries held just to get on the waiting list.
Additional projects, like some of the building authorized by last year’s housing levy, won’t be open for years – and even then, won’t be nearly adequate for today’s demand, let alone the demand years from now.
In other words, for every household now living in subsidized housing in Seattle, at least five more households need it. Meanwhile, those households are left to the private market – where they must compete with tens of thousands of the city’s other, less impoverished renters for what passes for semi-affordable units.
Little wonder there are over 6,000 people on the city’s Rapid Rehousing waiting lists. With only a couple hundred of them a year being rehoused by the city, the program isn’t even close to keeping up with the net figure of 900 newly homeless that Count Us In identified in its 2017 figures.
And between now and when all that newly funded affordable housing comes on line – a development which will at present only make a dent in the crisis – there’s every reason to think that more low-income households will continue to flee Seattle, and that homelessness will become more widespread, not less, unless and until the city or region puts some sort of cap on housing costs.
So why is the city playing whack-a-mole with human lives, pushing the homeless from one site to another, planning to dismantle the emergency shelter network that keeps people alive and (relatively) safe, and promising to instead house them in housing that isn’t available or doesn’t exist, and has no prospect of existing in the foreseeable future?
It’s a war. And like all undeclared, class-based wars these days, it’s the most vulnerable among us who are losing the most.
[Author’s note: Ironically, I had hoped to post this article last week but was delayed by personal health and money crises. If you find my reporting and commentary valuable – and would like to see me spending more time doing that and less time stressing over how I can pay for food, rent, and medical care myself – please consider donating whatever you can to help support my work. The PayPal button is on the lower right on geov.org’s home page. Many thanks for your help! – Geov Parrish]
For the purpose of this letter, I am going to assume that the civil lawsuit filed against you last week is completely baseless and without merit, as are the previous allegations from your days in Portland.
You should still end your campaign for re-election. It’s unfair and infuriating, I know, but it is by far the best option for both you and your constituents. Indeed, it is the only option that, once you are exonerated, keeps your legacy focused on your many accomplishments over decades of public service.
Put simply, even after less than a week, the lawsuit and its impacts, including your responses to it so far, are deeply dividing this city. They are making the gay community you’ve championed for so long a target, and also pitting that community against itself. For legitimate survivors of rape and of sexual and child abuse, the allegations themselves, and the extensive publicity given to public reactions to them, have been deeply triggering to many. You undoubtedly consider your aggressive response to your accusers the best way to address the accusations in a way that wins your case and salvages your job, but it has the tragic side effect of demanding that your accusers be silenced – a dynamic that every abuse survivor knows all too well, and one that your own example helps encourage in their lives. Even if you are the victim in this case, you are victimizing many, many other people in what surely seems to you like a necessary response.
Almost all of that goes away if you drop your re-election bid.
You are about to turn 62. Your next job will likely be your last, and opportunities for higher public service were already limited. Seattle just elected a young, dynamic new Congressional representative. Even if a Democrat should retake the White House in 2020, the chances that you would be offered a job in their administration, against much competition, were not great. And Seattle politicians don’t fare well in statewide elections. The most recent to run for Governor (Norm Rice in 1996) or US Senate (Ron Sims in 2004) were both beloved local politicians – and both failed to make it out of the primary. Both are African-American, but at least as important a factor was the animosity towards Seattle from the rest of the state. You know that well from your long years in the state legislature.
Such positions weren’t looking likely for you to begin with; regardless of the lawsuit’s outcome, the publicity from it has already made such further advancement far more improbable. It’s grossly unfair, but it’s reality.
What, then, will be your public service legacy?
Your re-election campaign is what’s driving tensions that on a daily basis are damaging both your constituents and Seattle’s national and international reputation. As you’re well aware, the lawsuit was timed before the filing deadline for mayoral candidates, but late enough that the suit almost certainly won’t be resolved before the primary or even the general election. This means that every Seattle voter is faced with the question of whether to support or oppose your re-election bid, and how strongly to do so. Most people would be content to set aside any opinion on allegations of decades-old misconduct until a court has had its say – but for Seattle voters, this isn’t an option. Even your most ardent supporters will be asked to justify their support. Barring an astonishing legal development, by definition there’s only one way public debate over the lawsuit’s legitimacy dies down before November – and that’s if Seattle voters don’t each feel the need to judge your personal fitness for another term, because you’ve ended your bid for it.
You will save yourself months of agony – which you may not care about. You’ve never been one to back down from a fight or challenge. But more importantly, our city will be torn apart by another seven months of this, including, inevitably, more hate crimes against LGBTQ constituents, and the death of past abuse victims who would otherwise continue to survive. These are not your responsibility, of course – but your actions can impact those outcomes, and people know it. Your legacy of accomplishments would be overshadowed by “…but he sacrificed his city, especially some of its most vulnerable residents, so he could get re-elected.” And that’s even if a court completely exonerates you.
By stepping aside now, you can support a candidate that you trust to finish your unfinished work. Voters can decide whether to ratify your work without the baggage of pending allegations against you. You will be remembered for putting the city first, and your ability to pursue whatever post-public service passion you prefer expands greatly. And you earn the gratitude of many, many Seattleites who are presently dreading the next seven months.
Against this, beyond the gross unfairness of it all, there’s an obvious objection: Wouldn’t this mean that any public official’s career can be shattered by a well-timed lawsuit, no matter how spurious?
Certainly, there’s a risk of that in the future. But several elements in this lawsuit are particular to your case: for starters, the plausibility of the lawsuit (due in large part to the previous allegations), the thankfully now archaic cultural norms of gay men before and during the worst of the AIDS years, and the confluence of sex, age, and sexual orientation involved. And if stepping aside increases the chances that your priorities will continue under a sympathetic successor, this lawsuit is hardly inspiration for the enemies of any future elected official. That simply leaves the motive of personal animus, and there are plenty of other, less painful ways for personal animosities to find expression.
You can’t control what people do in similar cases, especially hypothetical future ones. But you can control how your city responds to this case, in a way that concedes nothing to guilt, saves untold damage, and helps cement your reputation as a leader who put his constituents first.
Sometimes our moments choose us. This is your moment.
It’s time. It’s time to suspend your campaign, serve out your term, and on January 1, 2018, cheer the swearing in of the 54th mayor of Seattle.
The Seattle Times dropped a bombshell on the local political scene tonight, publishing a lengthy account of interviews with three separate men who claim that Mayor Ed Murray paid them for sex and then raped them for years while they were underage gay drug abusers in the 1980s. The men – two of whom met Murray beginning in 1980 when he lived in Portland, and the third, a Kent man who filed a civil suit today alleging Murray did the same to him beginning in 1986, after Murray had moved to Seattle – gave similar stories, including collaborating details like Murray’s intimate physical characteristics.
This is truly gnarly stuff. Pederasty. Money for sex, which was then used to feed drug habits. These sort of allegations, when credible – and these are – can abruptly end political careers. No doubt a lot of would-be mayoral candidates, scared off this year by Murray’s formidable warchest, are looking anew at their contact lists.
There’s a lot I don’t like about Murray’s record as mayor, starting especially with how he exploits our most vulnerable residents for political points while doing far less than you’d think to help them. But this is much bigger than that. The civil suit doesn’t even need to go anywhere for Murray’s career to be over. The court of public opinion can do that if the allegations are bad enough, and the details here sound really, really bad.
And yet tonight there are plenty of people, especially gay men of A Certain Age, who are defending Murray. To understand why, you have to appreciate two critical bits of context that won’t be included in most news accounts, because those accounts are being written by people who weren’t young gay men in the ’80s. I was.
The very first national gay/lesbian march was held in 1979; the gay rights movement was still a fringe cause in its infancy, and gay male culture was still in thrall to the sexual promiscuity of the ’70s and the reflexive secrecy of since forever. There were no positive role models on TV, or anywhere else, for young gay men.
And, so, a common feature of gay male culture of the era was the notion that young men needed to be “initiated” into their gayness by older, usually middle-aged men. I helped pay for my college expenses (at considerable higher rates than Murray’s more desperate teens supposedly got) catering to the edgier desires of older men like Murray – horny or lonely or predatory or all three. All of them – ALL OF THEM – rationalized their interest in me as not just lust for a hot, barely-of-age twink, but as passing their hard-earned carnal wisdom on to the next generation.
Well into the ’90s this attitude lived on strongly enough among older gay men that NAMBLA – yes, THAT NAMBLA – was allowed to march in gay pride parades around the country, its members arguing that they were just misunderstood gay men who loved little boys. Seriously.
Almost nobody defends those types of practices today. But 30 years ago? It was, in circles Murray surely circulated in, a cultural norm. As personally nauseating as I find today’s allegations – and I didn’t care for such men too much back then, either – part of me wants to give Murray a pass. How fair is it to hold him to a shifted cultural standard of a generation ago, and alleged crimes long past the statute of limitations, just because he’s now become a powerful public figure?
But then there’s that second bit of context. AIDS.
I was really, really lucky; my sex work ended just before AIDS (initially, the “gay cancer”) exploded on the scene. We knew how it was spread long before we understood what it was. For a full decade until initial treatments were developed that could keep it at bay, getting AIDS was a cruel, agonizing, utterly final death sentence. It was an invisible holocaust; countless men died while President Reagan couldn’t even bring himself to utter a word about it. The pandemic thrived in secrecy, shame, and the open glee of religious zealots around the country. AIDS decimated every gay community in the country, and those of us who survived were haunted and terrorized.
Murray’s alleged Portland abuse of runaway foster kids began just before AIDS struck – but by 1986, the year today’s plaintiff says Murray began paying him for sex in Seattle, the New York Times reported that over a million American men had been infected. With no known treatment, let alone a cure. One . Million. Men. Think about that for a second.
By way of comparison, that’s more than 300 times the number of people who died in 9-11.
By the time of the allegations in today’s suit, many tens of thousands of people had already died, including a lot of the people who did sex work for gay and bisexual guys. We knew far more about how AIDS was spread at that point than about what kind of safer sex practices would prevent infection. At that point, the kind of behavior Murray stands accused of wasn’t just abusive – it constitutes an unforgivably reckless disregard for the lives of the young men he was paying.
The salacious details of these accusations are going to consume a lot of local air time in the months to come – and someone’s also going to notice that nugget, buried in the Seattle Times story, that when the Portland men first publicly accused Murray in 2008, he spent campaign re-election funds to help quash the story. That is a potential legal problem well within the statute of limitations.
But there’s this: by 1986, a lot of the young men trading sex for money (or drugs, or housing, or whatever) were dying – because gay men who knew or suspected that they might be infected, and didn’t wish to harm their usual lovers, often turned to desperate – and usually drug-seeking – sex workers instead.
I hope the gay men who inevitably react to this story as an anti-gay smear remember that the sorts of teenage boys Murray allegedly groomed were often themselves gay.
And I wonder how many other 40-something men might also be accusing Mayor Murray if they had lived.
This morning’s public congressional testimony by FBI Director James Comey, confirming that members of the Trump Administration are in fact subjects of an ongoing investigation for their suspected links to the Russian government, is widely and rightly being described as a bombshell. But while Comey was understandably reluctant to provide any details, what he did say included several other bits of critical information that will be lost in the headlines:
1) The previous Intelligence Community (IC) report on the hacking of the DNC was explicit in its conclusion that the Russian government was responsible, and that it was part of a larger Russian effort to influence the US presidential election – but it did not conclude that members of the Trump campaign colluded in that effort. Comey’s testimony confirmed that collusion is, in fact, part of the scope of the investigation, and that the IC report did not include that possibility because it was part of an investigation that was still ongoing.
There’s a word for conspiring with a hostile foreign power to change the outcome of a presidential election: Treason. And it’s the one charge that, if substantiated, could force the end of the Trump presidency.
That can’t happen, in almost any scenario, unless a substantial number of congressional Republicans want that outcome. In this, timing is everything.
This is likely to be an extremely complex investigation that won’t be complete for many months, possibly not until early 2018. At that point, a disgraced Republican presidency is the one thing that could endanger an otherwise solid Republican congressional majority. Far more Democratic than Republican seats in the Senate are up for election in 2018, and gerrymandering has given Republicans a comfortable majority and mostly relatively safe seats in the House. But if Republicans are seen as enabling Trump’s crimes – and if the Democrats can get off their lazy asses to seriously challenge some of those normally safe seats – that Republican majority will be in trouble next year. A lot of Republicans who are now preoccupied mostly with the threat of primary challenges from their right will suddenly find it’s in the interest of their job security to turn on Donald Trump. And it’s not like Trump has done anything to court them, either.
There’s no other likely scenario that gets this mentally unstable, megalomaniacal would-be dictator out of office before 2020. But that’s now in play.
2) Speaking of timing, Comey’s testimony that the investigation of Team Trump began three months before the election is critical. That places the start of the investigation in early August: after the hacking of the DNC had become public knowledge. At the time Russia was already widely suspected, but this was before WikiLeaks began publishing some of those hacked materials. However, several other interesting things had already happened in early summer.
The first was the June appearance of former Defense Intelligence Agency director Gen. Michael Flynn at the Moscow gala celebrating the 10th anniversary of the Russian government-owned, English language RT television network, attended as well by Vladimir Putin and a host of other high-ranking Russian officials. Flynn began paid commentary on RT shortly afterwards, advocating a Russian line on how to address Syria that was starkly at odds with US foreign policy in the region.
Former military officers are barred from receiving payment from foreign governments or any entities owned or controlled by them. Flynn was already violating that law, and he was also violating it by being an (unregistered) paid foreign consultant for the government of Turkey, a country that, while a NATO ally, is also run by an Islamist despot who is openly hostile to the closest American political and intelligence partner in that region, Israel.
Having someone with Flynn’s security clearance being paid by not one but TWO potentially hostile foreign powers would in itself almost certainly have triggered a counterintelligence investigation. But something else happened in early summer as well. Paul Manafort, a lobbyist with a long track record of consulting for foreign dictators and whose most recent long-term client had been the deposed, pro-Russian former dictator of the Ukraine, was promoted to become Donald Trump’s campaign manager.
Furthermore, just before the Republican National Convention in late July, the team of the soon-to-be-nominated Trump demanded only one change to the proposed party platform Republicans would adopt at their convention: reversal of the anti-Russian plank on the conflict in the Ukraine, including Russia’s 2014 annexation of the Crimean peninsula. At the time, this was widely connected to Manafort, but the actual leaders of the platform change, acting on behalf of Trump, were Flynn, Sen. Jeff Sessions, and their surrogates.
We also now know that this time was the first of Sessions’ two meetings with the Russian ambassador. Sessions has claimed his meetings were part of his work on the Senate Armed Services Committee, but this explanation has been refuted by nearly every other member, Republican and Democrat, of that committee.
That was what had just happened when the investigation of Team Trump began.
3) Much will depend on the scope of the investigation. We already know that four people from the Trump campaign were being subject to phone and Internet monitoring. Three of those have assumed to be Manafort, Carter Page, and Flynn, all of whom have been forced out of their Trump jobs by revelations of improper contact with Russian officials or suspected Russian intelligence assets. It’s been widely suspected that the fourth is Roger Stone, a senior Trump campaign advisor and notorious dirty trickster who had cut his teeth in the Watergate conspiracy and had spent decades lost in far-right conspiracy circles before Trump revived his career. Stone, it’s since emerged, was the catalyst for Trump back-channel communications with WikiLeaks, before and after it published the hacked DNC e-mails.
All four of these men are likely being investigated. But a number of other Trump officials have dubious political or business ties to Russian oligarchs, government officials, or intelligence assets – which, in the land of Vladimir Putin, are often all the same people. That includes several members of Trump’s cabinet, notably Sessions, Secretary of State Rex Tillerson, and Commerce Secretary Wilbur Ross.
If the scope of the investigation is expanded to include Trump’s business ties, a number of dubious former business partners of the Trump Organization are Russian oligarchs, and several have also already been publicly named as suspected Russian intelligence assets.
Now that Trump is president, a number of other issues are coming up involving corruption and conflicts of interests between Trump, his company, and Trump family members and foreign governments, including Russia. Corruption is a different set of crimes from colluding to influence the election – but Trump, who remains a businessman before he’s a politician, is the link that ties both. It may be impossible to investigate one without including the other.
Incidentally, this is where Trump’s tax returns – which haven’t been made public, but which would be available to any investigation – become important. Unlike the 1040 form Rachel Maddow had last week, it’s the schedules that show where Trump’s income came from. That will tell a story the public has yet to hear.
As Maddow made clear in her commentary, Russia is the only country that has such extensive, recurring connections to Trump – and they’re showing up in every aspect of Trump’s business and political careers. This inevitably raises questions about Trump himself. It would be surprising if any investigation didn’t look into Trump’s role in surrounding himself with such people, regardless of their roles – but it all hinges on how expansive the scope of the investigation is.
4) Lastly and most importantly, this investigation is not shaping up to be a whitewash.
Comey was careful this morning to stipulate that he’d gotten permission from the Department of Justice to make public his confirmation of the investigation. This could not have happened unless now-Attorney General Jeff Sessions had not recused himself from the investigation.
That, in turn, happened because intelligence sources leaked to the media that Sessions had met with the Russian ambassador – and had perjured himself in his Senate confirmation testimony by denying he had ever done so. That should have forced Sessions’ resignation – but it did force his recusal. A similar leak previously forced the resignation of Michael Flynn as National Security Adviser after only three weeks on the job.
In other words, members of the intelligence community acted proactively to get out of the way two administration officials who were suspected to be national security risks and who had the power to stop an investigation that they, personally – as well as, potentially, their boss – were targets in. And they were targets of the investigation before Donald Trump named them to those key Cabinet-level positions.
That raises the question of whether one of Trump’s motivations in naming Flynn as his National Security Advisor – the sole Cabinet-level post that doesn’t require Senate confirmation – and Sessions as his Attorney General, was as insurance that one or both of them would have the power to kill any remaining investigation of the DNC hacks and the Trump campaign’s connections to them. That means IC and DOJ staff wanted to insure, as much as possible, that there wouldn’t be political interference in their investigation – and they acted quickly because they thought both Flynn and Sessions were not only security risks, but threatened the investigation itself. With a mandate from their boss, the president.
And if that is the case – remember Watergate? Several Nixon advisors and cabinet members went to jail for their part in the cover-up. “The cover-up is always worse than the original crime.”
This time, the alleged original crime is pretty bad, too.
All of this risks being an enormous shitshow that, in the end, leaves nothing proven and distracts from the far more immediately damaging aspects of the Trump agenda. But it also has the potential to utterly destroy that agenda, to depose Trump, and to discredit a Republican Party that is on the verge of having a long-term lock on control of all three branches of government, but cannot bridge its own internal divides between its reality-challenged base and “Freedom Caucus” zealots, on the one hand, and the oligarchs that back it, on the other. That division is already playing out in the laughable-yet-terrifying Republican health care proposal and in Trump’s failure to get any meaningful early legislation through Congress.
As further investigation leaks will make clear, IC members want no part of an administration with so many dubious ties to a hostile foreign power; business elites have no use for Trump’s Russian nonsense; and the rubes who elected Trump don’t care about Russia but are at risk of getting hammered by that agenda.
At that point, nobody, not even the Russians, will have any use for Donald Trump. It’s easy to see him in the Nixon role at the end, alone, friendless, roaming the White House hall and spouting incendiary tweets at 3 AM.
The next year is going to be…interesting. It would be tremendously entertaining if it weren’t the future of American democracy at stake.
How do we best translate unprecedented public outcry into the raw exercise of power needed to stop Trump and his allies?
At 9 AM Pacific Time Monday morning, Donald Trump will have been President of the United States for exactly ten days. In that time, the Seattle area will already have seen four major protests that each involved thousands of people (Inauguration Day, the women’s march, SeaTac, and tonight’s immigration rally). The SeaTac protest. organized in hours and viral in social media, got up to ten thousand people to drop their evening plans to rush to the airport. The women’s march was arguably the largest demonstration in Seattle history. At a fifth protest on the University of Washington campus, an anti-fascist peacekeeper was shot and critically wounded by a man wearing Trump paraphernalia. And similar record-setting demonstrations have erupted in every major city in the US, in all 50 states, and dozens of foreign countries.
And both Trump and the resistance to him are just getting started. We haven’t even gotten to ObamaCare repeal, Medicare & Social Security privatization, attacks on women’s reproductive health, environmental degradation, attacks on public education and unions, massive tax cuts for the rich, repeal of gay marriage, torture, civil liberties and civil rights rollbacks, new voter suppression initiatives, the War on Drugs, the War on Science, military and diplomatic idiocy, a new nuclear arms race, or any of the countless other things likely coming soon, some of them very soon.
Trump, his team, and congressional allies are seeking to move quickly on all of these fronts, and others we don’t expect. Many of these issues will mobilize entirely new constituencies, adding to the folks who’ve rallied and marched already.
At some point, likely very soon, the fact that scores of different outrages will have energized people will become the political and cultural narrative. All of the resistance will itself become the issue – and the right to protest will likely come under attack as well, spawning even more resistance. (Some Trump allies have already suggested cracking down on protesters.)
Just as there will be countless issues, there will also be countless demands; that can’t be helped. But just as the protests are likely to merge in their political and media narrative into one movement, we need to be thinking as well about what the unifying thing is that we want – and how best to achieve it.
The unifying immediate demand is fairly obvious, and is already showing up in protest signs and social media surrounding all of these issues: Donald Trump must go. But how?
Forcing Trump Out
There are, legally, three ways in which Trump’s removal from office can happen within the American political system. He could resign; he could be impeached for “high crimes and misdemeanors”; or he could be removed under Section 4 of the 25th Amendment, which provides for replacing a president who is unfit to serve for any reason, from health to mental issues to dangerous levels of incompetence.
Resignation is the least likely, and, as with Richard Nixon 43 years ago, is only conceivable as a face-saving action if one of the other remedies appears to Trump to be inevitable. Trump’s combination of megalomania and delusion mean that he’d never willingly leave a job like this – where he is literally the center of global attention every day – and he’d likely be impossible to convince of his vulnerability to legal removal even if every other elected official in the country were aligned against him. That leaves impeachment and Section Four.
The bar for both is extremely high. Impeachment is the only way a sitting president can be held accountable for breaking the law, and it’s only happened twice in US history – to Andrew Johnson and Bill Clinton – both for political reasons having little to do with the alleged crimes in question. And in both cases, the impeachment was unsuccessful. As for Section Four, the entire 25th Amendment, enacted in 1967 after JFK’s assassination to change the protocol for presidential succession, has never been used.
Can Trump’s transgressions rise to that very rare level? After only ten days, it appears almost inevitable. Already, in terms of crimes, there are serious, multi-agency investigations into whether Trump or his campaign violated economic sanctions – or compromised national security – or encouraged espionage or foreign tampering with the presidential election – in meetings, phone calls, and other contacts the Trump campaign had with representatives of the Russian government. Multiple ethics complaints have already been filed over Trump’s (and several of his Cabinet members’) failure to divest themselves of conflicting business interests. Trump also faces credible accusations of using his position to influence how foreign governments treat his companies. Words like “corruption” and “blackmail” keep coming up. And that’s on top of all of the other alleged criminal behavior we already knew about before the election: the sexual assaults; the defrauding of contractors and swindling of Trump University students; the organized crime connections in the US, Russia, and elsewhere; multiple possible tax crimes; and much, much more.
Trump now has enormous power, but he can’t stop all of these investigations. And as the old political cliche goes, the coverup is always worse than the crime. Secretive and vindictive, Trump has already demonstrated his eagerness to blow off legal requirements he doesn’t like. And a man who is apparently incapable of discerning fact from his own fantasies seems like a prime candidate to get tripped up over, say, lying under oath, the transgression used to impeach both Johnson and Clinton.
His fantastical beliefs are also one of several reasons Trump is already giving enemies a case for his being unfit to serve. Diagnosing Trump’s mental health problems – narcissist, megalomaniac, sociopath, and more – is so common now in the national discourse that it’s hardly controversial. When a moderate mainstream elite columnist can casually write, as the New York Times’ Nicholas Kristof did today in referring to the entirety of Trump’s record thus far, that the new president was either a liar or a crackpot, “unfit to serve” doesn’t seem like much of a stretch. And the evidence will keep arrived daily, delivered in a firehose.
But just because a convincing case can be made that Trump is a crook, a loon, or both, and the mechanisms exist for using those circumstances to remove him from office, doesn’t mean they will be used. That’s where political strategy matters, starting now.
The Anti-Trump Nation
Impeachment requires a majority vote in the U.S. House of Representatives, and a two-thirds vote for conviction in the U.S. Senate. Section Four has an even higher bar; removal is initiated by the Vice-President and “a majority of the principal officers of the executive departments” (basically, Trump’s cabinet), and then requires a two-thirds vote of both houses of Congress.
Both houses of Congress are currently Republican-controlled, and in both cases, the majority caucus is dominated by its most radical members. This means that, in practice, removing Trump from office would require substantial support from even the more unhinged regions of the Republican Party.
At the current rate, that’s not inconceivable. Two weeks ago, in an article I wrote on how to beat Trump, I noted that he has two enormous tactical vulnerabilities: overreach and divisions within his own party. Within just the first ten days, we’ve seen both.
Despite their fear of primary challenges from their Trump-loving base, a number of elected Republican officials have spoken out against some of Trump’s early moves, particularly his immigration orders. Moreover we’ve also seen constituent groups that are normally rock-solid Republican express alarm. Christian evangelicals were widely appalled at Trump’s prioritization of Christian victims of persecution for refugee status; active missionary projects were equally alarmed at the refugee and immigration actions. And, of course, conservative immigrants are directly impacted.
In Congress, many of Trump’s plans – most notably so far the Mexican wall and the call for rapid repeal of the Affordable Care Act – have concerned both fiscal conservatives and the big business interests that many Republicans serve. Those corporations also often rely on trade agreements like NAFTA and on non-citizen employees. The military-loving wing of Trump’s party is up in arms over his disrespect to the CIA’s dead, his nomination of radical incompetents for critical military leadership positions, his disregard for the American tradition of civilian control of the military, and, this weekend, his naming of a self-identified white nationalist with zero national security experience, Stephen Bannon, to a seat on the National Security Council. Trump has also already made powerful enemies in the executive branch: career military and intelligence officials and top agency staff who are by definition politically savvy and accustomed to working with Congress to get things done. And even among avid Trump supporters, you’ll find people who are patriots first and willing to act as such if the president is clearly either acting criminally or badly harming the country. Or both.
The Republican Party under Trump has unprecedented power to enact a radical agenda that a majority of Americans – for members of Congress and for the presidency – voted against. That power was achieved by gerrymandering Congressional districts, the disproportionate weight the Senate gives to small rural states, and the matching bias of the Electoral College. In the face of majority popular opposition, the Republican agenda can only hold if the party stays unified. Ten days in and the cracks are already visible.
The Bigger Project
Jettisoning Donald Trump will require our popular movement, both individually and organizationally, to make common cause with conservatives we wouldn’t normally work with. At the same time, removing Trump gives us a Christian jihadist, Michael Pence, as President. And at least until the 2018 midterms, Pence – who is far more experienced and competent in understanding how government works – would have the same radical congressional majority to work with.
The goal of any drive to replace Trump, then, needs to use his disgrace to make the Republican brand toxic in general, so as to overcome the gerrymandered Republican control of Congress. Between now and those 2018 midterms – or 2020, if Congress stays in Republican hands next year – the more that investigations and dealing with popular resistance can consume the limited time of Congress, the better. But we’ll need to work with some of those same people and groups to remove Trump.
The goal isn’t just to get rid of Trump, but to destroy Trumpism – which I’ll loosely define as the 30-year campaign of “alternative facts,” racism and bigotry, fear, and economic resentment that Republicans have used to fire up their base, a project that has gotten steadily more radical and reality-challenged over time. In this goal, we have several clear advantages: an ever-more-diverse and tolerant population, political control of pretty much every major economic center in the country, and the passion that comes when things we deserve and depend on are denied to us. And, of course, Trump’s radicalism and incompetence is our best recruiter. We are everywhere, and in combating a national regime that only respects power, we have the power to have an enormous impact on this country’s economy, culture, and politics.
A Few Suggested Guidelines
We can, if we choose to, make this country ungovernable. If the Trump impulse toward fascism moves much farther, combined with his impulse to punish and humiliate enemies real and perceived, that might be what it comes to. Already, this weekend, California Gov. Jerry Brown is threatening to withhold money from the country’s most populous and economically powerful state, money that normally goes to the federal government. Events are moving quickly.
In supporting the acts of elected officials who are needed to remove Trump and the threat of future Trumps, however, the bitter divide gripping the country needs to be healed enough for us to make common cause with at least some of the people on “the other side.” And common cause, the idea that we’re all in this together, is also the key to disempowering the divide and punch down tactics of Trumpism. Some people are irredeemable and simply need to be politically neutralized; overcoming a generation of right wing propagandizing is a long-term project. But in the short term, as we look use the tsunami of individual issues to both remove Trump and reverse the broader reactionary rise to power, I’d like to propose a few, necessarily incomplete guiding principles. Add your own:
1) Welcome everyone. A lot of people have never protested before in their lives. Some are conservative; many just never paid much attention to politics until they personally got impacted by one or another issue. Focus on our common goals and respect. This is not the time to shame or drive away people because we disagree with them on other issues, or because we got politically engaged before they did or know more. We can’t win without an inclusive movement. We also can’t create a more inclusive society without modeling that ideal ourselves.
2) Don’t get discouraged. Pace yourself; take breaks when you need to. There will be setbacks. Things will be scary at some times, overwhelming or boring at others. We need to take care of ourselves and support each other. Take risks, but be conscious of safety. All of that is, again, also the societal norms we want to encourage.
3) Stay focused. If the goal is to remove Trump, don’t get distracted by police violence or congressional idiocy. If the goal is to, say, save an essential safety net program or act on some other issue, prioritize the leadership of people directly impacted by that issue. A health care rally, for example, is not the time to lecture people on a pipeline; a climate change direct action is not a forum for your homelessness concerns. Check your privileges.
4) Organize, organize, organize! Share information, connect people and groups. Talk with friends, relatives, co-workers, strangers. Do what you can do best, whether it’s donating, offering specialized skills, or simply showing up.
5) Make the connection between popular sentiment and political action. Hold elected officials accountable; tell them what you want, and reward them when they do it. Know what the process is that you want to influence and what the best ways are to influence it. And then tell everyone else.
6) Smile. Rage and fear will take us a long way in getting things done; they also drive away allies we’ll need, and are generally not sustainable in what may be a long struggle. Find joy in things, and above all, remember that standing up for what’s right is also an end in itself. You folks are awesome.