David Brooks says we're having a moral convulsion.

As usually seems to be the case with David Brooks, there are enough germs of truth and even inspiration here to make you think that maybe this time, he'll make a strong case and reach a forceful conclusion. 

Then you reach the end, and you're still hungry. 

There'll be those on the right who insist the mistrust of which Brooks writes stems from matters like not enough prayer in schools, and of course abortion rights. Conversely, the left will point to racism and the patriarchy preferred by the right. 

And yet, while the first great "shock" may have been Watergate, how can we rationally discuss any of this without taking into the deep dive into capitalism's late-stage cancerous mutations? Brooks tap dances around it, but he doesn't get near this third rail. 

He should. We all should, in fact. 

This said, it's a piece worth your time to read. My advice is to keep expectations low, and sniff out those few nuggets of worth.

America Is Having a Moral Convulsion, by David Brooks (The Atlantic)

Levels of trust in this country—in our institutions, in our politics, and in one another—are in precipitous decline. And when social trust collapses, nations fail. Can we get it back before it’s too late? 

The events of 2020—the coronavirus pandemic; the killing of George Floyd; militias, social-media mobs, and urban unrest—were like hurricanes that hit in the middle of that earthquake. They did not cause the moral convulsion, but they accelerated every trend. They flooded the ravines that had opened up in American society and exposed every flaw. 

Now, as we enter the final month of the election, this period of convulsion careens toward its climax. Donald Trump is in the process of shredding every norm of decent behavior and wrecking every institution he touches. Unable to behave responsibly, unable to protect himself from COVID-19, unable to even tell the country the truth about his own medical condition, he undermines the basic credibility of the government and arouses the suspicion that every word and act that surrounds him is a lie and a fraud. Finally, he threatens to undermine the legitimacy of our democracy in November and incite a vicious national conflagration that would leave us a charred and shattered nation. Trump is the final instrument of this crisis, but the conditions that brought him to power and make him so dangerous at this moment were decades in the making, and those conditions will not disappear if he is defeated. 

This essay is an account of the convulsion that brought us to this fateful moment ...

Why did Detroit residents refuse free trees? "It’s not that they didn’t trust the trees; they didn’t trust the city."

This is required reading. Team Gahan won't, so the rest of us should.

Why Detroit Residents Pushed Back Against Tree-Planting, by Brentin Mock (CityLab)

Detroiters were refusing city-sponsored “free trees.” A researcher found out the problem: She was the first person to ask them if they wanted them.

 ... The residents Carmichael surveyed understood the benefits of having trees in urban environments—they provide shade and cooling, absorb air pollution, especially from traffic, increase property values, and improve health outcomes. But the reasons Detroit folks were submitting “no tree requests” were rooted in how they have historically interpreted their lived experiences in the city, or what Carmichael calls “heritage narratives.”

These are the stories that people from all walks of Detroit life tell themselves and each other about why city conditions are the way they are. The heritage narratives that residents shared about trees in Detroit were different from the ones shared among the people in city government and TGD.

A couple of African-American women Carmichael talked to linked the tree-planting program to a painful racist moment in Detroit’s history, right after the 1967 race rebellion, when the city suddenly began cutting down elm trees in bulk in their neighborhoods. The city did this, as the women understood it, so that law enforcement and intelligence agents could better surveil their neighborhoods from helicopters and other high places after the urban uprising.

The city was chopping down trees at a faster clip at this time. And the city was flying helicopters over their homes at one point—to spray toxic DDT from above on the trees. However, the government’s stated reason for the mass tree-choppings was that the trees were dying off from the Dutch elm disease then spreading across the country. These were competing heritage narratives of the same event—the clearing away of trees in the 1960s. The two narratives are in conflict, but it was the women’s version, based on their lived experiences, that led to their decision to reject the trees today. It’s not that they didn’t trust the trees; they didn’t trust the city.

“In this case, the women felt that [after the race rebellion] the city just came in and cut down their trees, and now they want to just come in planting trees,” said Carmichael. “But they felt they should have a choice in this since they’ll be the ones caring for the trees and raking up the leaves when the planters leave. They felt that the decisions regarding whether to cut down trees or plant new ones were being made by someone else, and they were going to have to deal with the consequences.”

In the interest of public trust: the Craig property, et al.

It's simple, really. People invest where they have confidence that their investment will pay off. Creating that confidence, then, is the lifeblood of economic or social success. Trust is necessary.

The same is true whether one is starting or taking a job at a company, purchasing a house or commercial building, or even campaigning or voting for a politician. There are risks involved in any of them, and buying in means assuming those risks. When the playing field is level and the rules clear, caveat emptor and may the best person win.

Lately, numerous new people have invested millions of dollars and ample time in our small city, in all the areas mentioned - housing, commercial buildings, businesses, and politicians. That's a good thing, as it shows they share the type of confidence implicit in making life changing decisions.

Many of us developed that confidence and made those decisions based on the idea that the rules in place to protect us - building codes, historic preservation guidelines, voting rights, etc., would be evenly enforced. We agreed to them, knowing that whatever limits were placed on us would be shared by others, creating a hopeful if difficult consistency. It's the essence of the social contract.

Well, so much for contracts.

Most are aware of the Market Street properties owned by Ron Craig. Defined mostly by the former auto dealership between Fourth and Fifth Streets, the American four square house on the site is recognizable without an address, owing to the junk cars that regularly populate the adjacent lot unabated. It sits in the Downtown Historic District, regulated by the same exterior rules that apply to my house and the properties of many others.

Of what most are probably unaware is the controversy in which the home is in engulfed. Its owner, Ron Craig, is aware of his property's historic status and the related rules. Mr. Craig, however, assumes those rules don't apply to him. Unfortunately, the City is proving him right.

Without so much as even applying for the Certificate of Appropriateness from the Historic Preservation Commission required by everyone doing exterior renovation in designated districts, Mr. Craig wrapped the place in gaudy white vinyl, covering up the homes architectural features and further degrading (to the extent possible, given his general neglect of the property) the streetscape that we all share and depend on to lend itself to our own investments.

When notified of the violation by the HPC, Mr. Craig's first response was to sue. Though not surprising given his general attitude, the suit was both troublesome and timely. Troublesome because of the lack of respect for the law, it was timely because of ongoing conversations between the HPC and the City's attorney, Shane Gibson.

That conversation had focused on the enforcement of several pending historic district cases, cases that involve clear violations of local law but that had not been followed up on through proper legal channels. The HPC was asked to suggest the four most prominent of those cases for further review and, if necessary, enforcement action. It seemed like potentially good news.

The conversation, however, quickly moved from the selection of four cases to the selection of one, as an example. Given the pending lawsuit and the obvious visual prominence of the property on a major thoroughfare, Craig's case was recommended.

With Craig's suit already in motion, it was the attorney Gibson's responsibility then to respond to the court with the City's position prior to deadline. He did not. The HPC reminded him. He still did not.

Eventually, the deadline passed. Having been denied the opportunity to even present arguments as an officially recognized city body, the HPC is currently monitoring the court docket, waiting for notification of the summary judgment that will be forthcoming without further intervention. HPC calls to Gibson pertaining to the case continue to go unreturned.

Given the zeal with which enforcement was promised to my neighborhood and others as a matter of creating the trust necessary for political investment into this administration, it's tempting to point fingers, call names, and otherwise frame recent events into an even more polarized us vs. them situation. For now, I won't do that.

What I will do is ask for an explanation, with the hope that it doesn't become a demand due to another lack of response. The system is clearly failing and will not be fixed in silence. Citizens have invested themselves and their money in the city and its current administration, but the confidence and trust necessary for that to continue is waning as the individuals on the other side of the contract ply their craft in relative isolation with little to no communication. With hundreds of dilapidated properties to contend with, City Hall is the one getting boarded up. That's not acceptable.

As a single broken but unrepaired window leads to more, a lack of windows into the process leads to vision unshared. If we can't see what's happening, we can't help.

We've been asked to trust you. How about trusting us every once in a while?