The Baby and the Bathwater

At the farmer's market on Saturday, there were volunteers collecting signatures in support for Obama's budget. I dragged my fiance over to the table. "I signed online," I said, "but you should sign, too."

The girl at the table told me I should go ahead and sign again. I picked up a pen and muttered that I'd like to add a note that says, "Fire Tim Geithner."

"Oh, you can if you want," the canvasser said, nodding.

"The trouble is," a woman to my left chimed in, "most people don't understand the difference."

I'm so steeped in this, it took me a moment to understand what she meant, but I fear she may be right. Budget. Bailout. Stimulus. These are all things that have to do with sums of money beyond our comprehension. All things being decided in Washington, hundreds or thousands of miles from our hometowns, where we comprehend all too well the sums of jobs and homes lost. For the average American, watching the news with our hands over our eyes like it's a horror movie or a surgery show, it's easy to just lump them all together. If too many people do that, the results could be tragic.

Contrary to what Republicans and right-wing bloggers would have you think, admiring President Obama doesn't requre blind agreement with his every policy position. I happen to be more convinced by Paul Krugman's solution to the banking crisis than by Secretary Geithner's. I'm inclined to agree with--of all people--Henry Blodget that the financial sector is not suffering a liquidity crisis, it is simply insolvent. That the question is no longer whether we "let the banks fail." The banks have failed. The question is who has to shoulder the consequences of the failure: the people whose actions created this mess, or the rest of us?

That's how I feel about the bailout, otherwise known as TARP, otherwise known as the "Financial Stability Plan." But if that's the filthy bathwater, then Obama's proposed budget is the corresponding baby. It's grounded in the principles of fairness, in the idea that government should serve the common good. That when there's a crisis, we should all turn our attention to the people who need our help the most. That our environment, our health, or national security, and our economy are all interconnected, and that the way forward needs to address them together. That shared sacrifice is an American value.

When was the last time a budget proposal made us teary? It's what we all imagined when we danced in the streets last November. A better, more compassionate future is possible, and there's a blueprint for it in that budget. I'm sure everyone can find at least one detail to quibble with, but the guiding philosophy is solid. And nothing would be sadder than to see it buried under a pile of anger.