Posted inPhoenix Politics: National

Travels: Ohio and Arizona

A vague sadness hangs over the Ohio countryside, even though the trees hang on to their last vestiges of summer green. I flew into Cleveland’s airport last week. This was once one of America’s largest cities, and even though the airport remains a hub for Continental Airlines, the place has the feel of a small, regional terminal. The nice part is that people are nicer in a less crazed and crowded setting, but I keep asking myself, "this is Cleveland?"

Yes. I can see the changes as we drive out of town, on the way to my conference at Kent State University. Buildings that held large businesses a decade ago sit empty. The big Ford plant sits looking vulnerable. While I was there, Eaton, the city’s largest Fortune 500 headquarters, announced it was leaving downtown for the suburbs. This is a downtown that has revived itself well and is a transit hub. Yet the Eaton bigs seem oblivious to the future of higher gas prices, as well as shameful as stewards of their hometown. Everybody talks about how bad the economy is, with high unemployment and job insecurity. The change in the vibe of this state from a decade ago is so real and raw you can’t miss it. No wonder Ohioans threw out the Republicans — the party that wrecked America — in 2006. And yet, McCain has an edge if the polls are to be believed, and one wonders.

Still, Ohio is a state synonymous with white flight and de facto segregation. Apart from some successful downtowns and a few still-lovely upper-class neighborhoods, the big cities are heavily black, while their numerous suburbs are white. It’s a class thing, but it’s also a race thing. And it may well be that Ohioans won’t vote for a black man. How they think Republican John Sidney McCain III, continuing the policies of 25 years of "conservatism," will help them is beyond me. But these are emptional responses beyond the reach of rational persuasion.

1
Who mourns for Dayton?
Posted inPolitics: National

Who mourns for Dayton?

1024px-DaytonSkylineGMRiver

When I moved to Dayton, Ohio, in 1986, it was the first time I lived in a real city. It was far smaller than Phoenix or San Diego, the then sleepy but populous places I'd been, but it seemed bigger. I lived in a leafy city neighborhood of old houses and took the bus to work. The downtown was a compact mass of skyscrapers held in a bend of the Great Miami River. The newspaper was there, in a lovely old building enchanted by history, with a newspaper bar right next door and a bustling historic domed arcade across the street. Two department stores were a block away. Across the square was the old courthouse where Lincoln had spoken. Nearby, a jazz club.

The economy was robust. The "Rust Belt" was reinventing itself as an innovative superpower and Dayton was no exception. While National Cash Register had shut manufacturing of the old machines — a trauma affecting thousands — it had become a successful global computer giant. Mead, the paper company, was headquartered in a downtown tower and starting a data operation that became LexisNexis. Dayton had the second largest concentration of General Motors employees in the world, and its factories were being retooled and reinvented, often with UAW bosses as leading innovators. Hundreds of suppliers provided well-paid, high-skilled jobs that were as productive as any in the world. The airport hosted an airline passenger hub for the best-run carrier in America, Piedmont, as well as a freight hub for Emery Worldwide. For a kid from the West, this introduction to the Midwest was a heartland epiphany.

Those assets are almost all gone now. And when I wonder why Ohio seems so crazy — how it could have voted for Bush in 2004, if indeed it did; why it fell for Hillary's Wellesley girl Norma Jean routine; why it could now be a tossup for McCain (?!). When I wonder all these things, I think about Dayton.

12
Posted inPolitics: National

When we say NAFTA, what do we really mean?

NAFTA figured heavily into the Democratic primary in Ohio, yet most of the news coverage and the debates themselves proved unsatisfying. We were served the canard that NAFTA helps consumers but hurt manufacturing jobs. NPR made it sound as if the trade agreement’s consequences are ancient history. The Democrats were more muted on NAFTA in Texas, where Laredo has boomed as a trade port.

Of course, NAFTA is a proxy for trade liberalization and globalization. China has hurt Ohio manufacturing more than Mexico. So, too, have the domestic automakers, undergirding the state economy, that continue to make boring, homely cars that fewer Americans want to buy.

But the real issue goes deeper even than that, and any fixes will be problematic. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t make them.

4