The dominant model of political behavior - pluralism - assumes that people are self-interested and uses economic behavior as an analogy for political behavior. People organize themselves into groups to get their needs met, and these groups compete with one another to obtain rewards that are allocated through political processes. The role of government is to make sure that political competition is fair and open - possibly helping weaker groups organize themselves and helping them acquire the skills to compete effectively. The government will also provide public goods that cannot be provided through private market activity. In sum, the government, will try to make sure that people (at least those who are organized) get what they want, as efficiently as possible.

After introducing this dominant model, Robert Reich, the editor of The Power of Public Ideas, delineates the situations where it might best be applied:

"The prevailing philosophy comprises a useful set of precepts for guiding much of policy making, particularly where there is wide and enduring consensus about the nature of the problems to be solved, the range of possible solutions, and appropriate allocations of responsibility for solving them; and where solving the problems as understood is more useful than understanding them differently. The prevailing philosophy is less helpful - indeed, may forestall social learning - where these conditions are not met."

Reich champions a different model; one that assumes that people are motivated, in their political lives, by what they think is good for society. He cites some compelling evidence for this view: the civil rights movement, for example, can't be explained if politics is nothing more than self-interested competition among atomistic groups. Moreover, citizens must feel some concern and consideration for one another, or massive coercion would be required to keep order.

Because Reich thinks people are basically public-spirited, rather than selfish, he sees involvement in politics as a good thing, almost as a good thing in itself. For Reich, public deliberation strengthens public spirit in a type of virtuous spiral that makes society more durable. In his view, then, a primary function of government is to stimulate public debate and deliberation. New England-style town meetings would represent an ideal type of democratic government for him.

The objection to Reich's view, of course, is that people don't want to devote more time to politics. Most people are political bystanders because they are broadly satisfied. They can be aroused to action - to protest the Vietnam War, to demand civil rights for African Americans, to crack down on drunk drivers, and so on - when the government is unwilling or too slow to act on their concerns, or when their basic values or rights are infringed by the government.* But would this be a good thing? Those who are deeply dissatisfied with our society and seek transformational change would say yes. Those who are broadly satisfied with the status quo would likely say no.

I read four of the ten essays in this volume. Reich's introduction to the volume is covered above. Gary Orren's "Beyond Self Interest" provides quite a bit of evidence to show that people often behave in public spirited ways. It also critiques neoclassical economics and pluralism as models of behavior that allow government and leaders only a marginal role. In fact, of course, at policy "turning points" they may play central roles.

Reich's "Policy Making in a Democracy" examines two approaches to governmental policy making: interest group intermediation and net benefit maximization. In interest group intermediation, policymakers consider themselves successful if competing groups are placated. In net benefit maximization, policy makers identify a market failure and decide that there is an opportunity to increase efficiency. They typically use very sophisticated analytical techniques to propose a specific solution. Reich believes that the latter approach has contaminated the former, so that groups who cannot offer sophisticated argumentation are excluded from much governmental decision-making. As an alternative, he offers public deliberation. He examines three cases where public deliberation was used and concludes that they were at least qualified successes. Those who lack Reich's commitment to participatory politics will probably disagree.

"The Media and Public Deliberation," by Martin Linsky, finds that the news media, with its emphasis on reporting on events rather than ideas, is an obstacle to public deliberation. He makes some proposals for reform, some of which sound a bit silly. However, many of his proposed approaches have already been used to some degree by the political monthlies and by news shows like The News Hour with Jim Lehrer. For example, Linksy favors news coverage that presents contrasting opinions about an issue as this is likely to stimulate thought about alternative definitions of issues and approaches to solving them. He also wants news organizations to "make news" by sponsoring debates and similar events.

Based on my admittedly limited exploration of The Power of Public Ideas, I concluded that it is a competently researched and written volume of essays from a moderate leftist orientation.

* Carl Van Horn, Donald Baumer, and William Gormley, Jr., Politics and Public Policy, (Washington DC: CQ Press), 2001, 237, 238.

Willa Cather's Death Comes for the Archbishop is a deceptively simple but profound novel about two French missionaries in the Southwestern United States. These men are not terribly otherworldly and they are capable of enjoying good books, good wine, and good food. They are tough guys too, up to the task of traveling thousands of miles on horseback or facing down some bad guys. The religion they promote provides support and comfort to Mexicans, Indians, and some Anglo miners who need spiritual succor.

The book presents us with several vignettes in the lives of these urbane priests, as well as some fables and Southwestern folklore. By living in harmony with God's law and the world he created, the men prosper. Eventually, they must part, and they must grow old and die. But death holds no horror for men like these who have spent their lives in service to others.

Cather's writing is beautiful and direct. In the following passage, one of the priests and his friend spend several days traveling together:

As Father Latour and Eusabio approached Albuquerque, they occasionally fell in with company; Indians going to and fro on the long winding trails across the plain, or up into the Sandia mountains. They had all of them the same quiet way of moving, whether their pace was swift or slow, and the same unobtrusive demeanor: an Indian wrapped in his bright blanket, seated upon his mule or walking beside it, moving through the pale new-budding sage-brush, winding among the sand waves, as if it were his business to pass unseen and unheard through a country awakening with spring.

North of Laguna two Zuni runners sped by them, going somewhere east on "Indian business." They saluted Eusabio by gestures with the open palm, but did not stop. They coursed over the sand with the fleetness of young antelope, their bodies disappearing and reappearing among the sand dunes, like the shadows that eagles cast in their strong, unhurried flight.

Her book also contains some beautiful ideas. In this passage, the two priests discuss Our Lady of Guadalupe:

"Where there is great love there are always miracles," [Father Latour] said at length. "One might almost say that an apparition is human vision corrected by divine love. I do not see you as you really are, Joseph; I see you through my affection for you. The Miracles of the Church seem to me to rest not so much upon faces or voices or healing power coming suddenly near to us from afar off, but upon our perceptions being made finer, so that for a moment our eyes can see and our ears can hear what is there about us always."

This book has it all: fine writing, adventure, and some lessons for living. Most highly recommended.

The French Lieutenant's Woman is a Victorian novel by a modern author - the revered John Fowles. The novel concerns a love triangle between a young man on an income, his fiancé, and the mysterious and independent Sarah.

Throughout the novel, Fowles takes numerous opportunities to speak directly to the reader in asides that describe the process of writing fiction from an author's perspective. Fowles also speaks directly to the reader to provide some historical information about the Victorians and their age. These asides are enjoyable and make the characters seem less removed from our own time.

One quibble: the final resolution of the plot was a bit stilted (the characters basically stand up and explain themselves) and not very satisfying. I'm still not sure I fully understand Sarah's motives. The rest of this novel is very well done, though.

Lady Chatterly's Lover is a philosophical novel that asks questions about values and what makes a good life. In it, D. H. Lawrence considers the intellectual life and finds it arid and unreal. (Here, there is an extended, unflattering discussion of the self-promotion that a successful writer must engage in.) He then considers the effect of technology on modern life and finds that it has diminished our human qualities. Finally, he advocates a return to a simpler life where people will meet their deeper needs rather than seeking the superficial things that money can buy. The author thinks that sex has to play a pretty central role in a complete life, and he's probably right about that, but he has some very specific ideas about sex that sound odd to us now.

The author also looks deeply into the dynamics of relationships between men and women and explores what we are like, why we have trouble understanding one another, and how men and women can complement one another.

Finally, there is a fair amount of racy language and action that, of course, earned this book its notoriety.

I enjoyed this book a great deal and I think that the author's critique of modern ethics deserves some attention. It is a mistake to dismiss this book because of its overtly sexual themes.

For Whom the Bell Tolls is a great book with large themes: war, love, devotion to duty, and the clash between modern, rational values and more traditional ones. At a higher level, it is about connections between people: indeed, the book opens with the following quotation from John Donne:

. . . any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

Hemingway takes us inside a guerilla band during the Spanish Civil War, mostly through the eyes of Robert Jordan, an American professor-cum-demolitions expert. Jordan is a Communist - at least he is strongly drawn to Communism - who has come to Spain to fight fascism. He has character and a sense of duty. Since, from our vantage point, at the beginning of the 21st century, it seems that not many people do, this gives the book a kind of "long ago and far away" feel. Readers in 1940, when the book was published, no doubt experienced it in a more immediate way.

This book includes many memorable secondary characters: among them Pilar, the wise leader of the band of partisans, Pablo, her drunken, amoral, but capable husband, and Maria, the love interest in the story.

Like every Hemingway novel that I've read, this one is well written. Hemingway uses the archaic English "thou" for the Spanish "tu" and translates literally from Spanish to English to better convey an impression of Spanish dialogue to English readers. These devices are initially distracting but are actually very successful at taking the reader inside the minds of the Spanish-speaking characters in this book.

This is a distinguished work and an exciting one. It deserves its acclaim.

In Song of Solomon, Toni Morrison takes the view - a common one - that we have to know our history to know ourselves. I don't really agree but in this case it makes a great story. The characters in her novel don't make calculations or follow strategies: they do what they have to do. The history that motivates their actions is an emotional, personal one. Morrison's preoccupation with this personal history is reflected in her use of unusual names: names that are given "from yearnings, gestures, flaws, events, mistakes, weaknesses . . . Macon Dead, Sing Byrd, Crowell Byrd, Pilate, Reba, Hagar, Magdalene, First Corinthians, Milkman, Guitar . . . ." Her characters are powerful, larger-than-life people, and clashes between them quickly escalate to life-and-death struggles. At the same time, they have a great capacity for empathy and self-sacrifice. Highly recommended.

In this brief novel, Kate Chopin tries to depict the spiritual awakening of a privileged young woman. Unfortunately, the book doesn't make much sense. When Edna, the protagonist, casts away her public self to become her true self, we might suppose that her quality of life would improve. Instead she exercises poorer and poorer judgment, ultimately destroying herself. Edna is not a likeable or even an authentic character, and the supporting cast is almost as unattractive. In this novel, even New Orleans seems to have no attractions. The Awakening is not terrible; it just has little to offer.

Schindler's List, by Thomas Keneally, is based on the true story of a German industrialist who saved over 1,000 Jews from extermination during the Nazi occupation of Poland. It presents a very realistic and persuasive account of how Oskar Schindler placed himself at great risk (he was arrested three times) to oppose the Nazi regime and protect the Jewish workers in his factory. The book also describes the subhuman treatment of those that Schindler could not save.

Most of those reading this brief review will have seen the movie and it must be said that the book does not have quite the impact of the movie. Still, this is a fine book and a tribute to a man who chose to act decisively when he met evil. It deserves to be widely read.

The hero, or antihero, of Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five is Billy Pilgrim, a time traveling idiot savant. The central event in Billy's life is the firebombing of Dresden, Germany, an event he witnesses with little emotion. Billy has the sense to cry when he sees a pair of horses suffering but he is unnaturally passive in war, in his marriage, in raising his son, in being kidnapped and taken to the planet of Tralfamadore, and so on. From his experiences on Tralfamadore, Billy comes to perceive time in a different way that is very comforting to him and perhaps to Vonnegut as well.

First published in 1969, Slaughterhouse-Five has an experimental feel to it. Billy's time travel leads to some unconventional juxtaposition of scenes, and Vonnegut makes frequent use of asides to the reader to tell us about himself and why he wrote the book. Tragic events are described in flat, emotionless terms.

Slaughterhouse-Five is a quick and entertaining read, and it educates the reader about the horrors of bombing directed against civilians. Because of the flat tone, though, and because the characters are so unattractive, there doesn't seem to be much of a message here except to say that men are fools.

The members of the family in James Baldwin's Go Tell It on the Mountain suffer because of their color, their poverty, and the conflicts and disappointments that are part of any life. Most of all they suffer because of the demands that their intense, dogmatic religion places on them. While they love and fear God, they have little appreciation for God's creation. For them, everyone and everything in this world is carnal and corrupt. They aspire to an otherworldly existence but their nature leads them to defy God and suffer terrible guilt. They think and speak in the language of fundamentalist Christian religion: "witness," "wandering," "wilderness," "wickedness." In James Baldwin's hands, this language is beautiful but it's disturbing, too, and this short novel will not be forgotten easily.