Arthur D. Robbins's Blog, page 2

Critical Period in American History

The most critical period in #AmericanHistory is 1776 to 1788, from the Declaration of Independence to the ratification of the Constitution. The air was crackling with political debate. Everyone had something to say on the subject of government. Thirteen state constitutions were written and ratified, each one with its own peculiarities. There was a move afoot to abandon the Articles of Confederation and replace them with the Constitution, moving from a loose federation of independent states to a highly centralized government in the new nation's capital. Those in favor of the new constitution became known as Federalists. Those opposed were dubbed anti-Federalists. The anti-Federalists were astute and insightful and predicted much of what has occurred to eradicate what little democracy was built into the Constitution. Read, "The Anti-Federalists," by Jackson Turner Main.

On Reading History

Notice To All Americans: #ReadHistory. Why? Because when you read history you will discover that what you thought was circumstantial is actually systemic. It is not a question of this or that personality, of this or that piece of legislation or policy, of this or that spiritual trend, the downward spiral we are living out is structural. It is built into our culture and our system of government, a system that is working as intended by those who created it.

A good place to start is Vernon L. Parrington’s “Main Currents in American Thought,” volume one, “The Colonial Mind: 1620-1800.” Parrington writes lyrically, wittily, incisively. He critically examines the personalities he brings up for study. You will see these historical figures, some of whom you know and some not, through the eyes of this highly intelligent and thoughtful human being. You will get to know our origins and by knowing a country in its origins you know a country truly and objectively.

Those Pilgrims who settled the Massachusetts Bay Colony were hard as flint Calvinists who believed they were angels, building a city of God on earth, that is to say a theocracy. They believed literally that the were holier than thou and that they alone had heard God’s word and they had been called to spread the word and bring the western world to a new dawn. Any deviation from doctrine as defined by these Puritan angels was met with a harsh and unyielding response: exile, flogging, hanging.

Could it be that the religious extremes being lived out in this country have their origins in this earlier theocracy and that what has come to be known as “American exceptionalism,” America’s mission to spread the word as known to those who have the word, is not far removed from the Puritan mentality that animated the early settlers? Read Parrington and you will learn more about this important period in American history and the players whose passions have help to shape our ethos.

Rotation in Office

On March 21, 1947, Congress passed the 22nd Amendment to the United States Constitution. FDR, a democrat, died in the White House, early in his fourth term. Republicans, reeling from the power he exercised, lobbied for an amendment limiting presidential tenure to two terms. Though motivated by partisan politics, the principle is nonetheless valid. Longevity in office leads to a dangerous concentration of power. The principle is as valid today as it was in 1947 and should now be applied to Congress who can boast members serving for as long as fifty years.

Article I, Section 2 of the Constitution establishes the House: “The House of Representatives shall be composed of Members chosen every second Year by the People of the several States, and the Electors in each State shall have the Qualifications requisite for Electors of the most numerous Branch of the State Legislature.” This clause could be amended with an addition of just a few words, as follows: “No Member shall serve more than once in any four-year period and twice in a lifetime.”

Article I, Section 3 reads as follows: “The Senate of the United States shall be composed of two Senators from each State, chosen by the Legislature thereof [modified by Amendment XVII], for six Years; and each Senator shall have one Vote.”

Term-limiting modifications could also be applied to the Senate. In addition to providing for rotation in office, shortening the length of each Senate term to four years would allow for more varied participation. Four years is certainly enough time to do whatever harm or good a person is apt to do in office. Therefore Article I, Section 3 could be amended as follows: “The Senate of the United States shall be composed of two Senators from each State, chosen for four Years; and each Senator shall have one Vote. No Senator shall serve more than once in any six-year period and twice in a lifetime.”

If we would like to have a government that is more likely to act responsibly, government reformation is essential. It will break up the power clots and bring in new blood.

Power And Its Abuse

Government is about power, the distribution, use and abuse of power. Power is like blood to the human body. It must circulate freely for the body to remain healthy. Currently, members of Congress serve for 10, 20, 30, 40, 50 years. In a democratic government there is rotation in office. Longevity in office leads to power clots and government debility. As Mark Twain once said, "Politicians are like diapers. They both need changing often and for the same reason."

How are we going to get our politicians changed? Here is one brilliant solution, not mine. Go to kickthemallout.com and see how it works.

Political Parties

We think we have two political parties but, as Gore Vidal once said, we have one party with two right wings. Yet we continue to behave as if we are making choices. It is this self-deception that perpetuates the status quo, the depredation of our ecosystem and the endless and needless suffering of peoples around the world.

The Pennsylvania Constitution of 1776

In 1776 the people of Pennsylvania were fed up with a government that ignored their needs and wishes. What did they do? Four thousand of them gathered in the State House courtyard and began organizing a shadow government. Soon the shadow government overtook the established government.

There was no pushing and shoving, no lying and manipulation. Not a shot was fired. There were no leaders, "famous" people, overseeing the unfolding of events. It was a democratic process that established a new government, the most democratic the North American continent has yet to see.

The Big Sell Off

Our society is being dismantled piecemeal by predators with a passion for plunder, that is to say the banksters and their corporate allies. Our legislators, under orders from the predators, are selling off everything that is ours. In Manhattan, the New York Public Library is under siege. In Berkeley, California, the iconic building housing the local Post Office is up for sale. This is just the beginning. Everything is up for sale, our schools, our forests, the water we drink. If they can find a way to sell the air we breath, they will do it. The alleged necessity of raising money to pay down debt has, in fact, been engineered by the very predators who will profit from these selloffs.

What can we do? We can wring our hands or we can start to think creatively about how government can be shaped into a force for civilized living.

Government Gives Me A Headache

Probably the most boring course I ever had to take was a course on “Government.” The course consisted of facts, lots of them, dry-as-dust, a virtual blizzard of facts. I can feel my temples pounding as I revisit this most unpleasant experience.

The Constitution was ratified in 1788. Thirty-nine of the fifty-five delegates signed. There are two legislative branches, the House of Representatives with 435 members and a Senate with 100 members. This is what known as a bicameral legislature. The Vice President serves as President of the Senate. If both houses of congress are in a tie on a piece of legislation, the Vice President casts the deciding vote. The Congress passes between 200 and 500 bills in a session. All laws in the United States begin as bills. Before a bill can become a law, it must be approved by the U.S. House of Representatives, the U.S. Senate, and the President. Members of the House of Representatives serve two-year terms. Their numbers are determined by population. Members of the Senate serve six-year terms. There is one Senator per state. All bills for raising revenue originate in the House of Representatives. The President appoints members of the Supreme Court with the advice and consent of the Senate. The Supreme Court is the highest court in the land. It is comprised of a chief justice and eight associate justices, all serving for life.

Too often, this is what passes for “Introduction to Government.” But discussion of government doesn’t have to be boring. It comes to life when we place the subject matter in historical context and begin asking some questions. What was the governing law prior to the Constitution? How and why was it determined to replace one form of government with another? How come sixteen members of the convention didn’t sign? Was there resistance to the Constitution? Who were these fifty-five members of the convention and which interests did they speak for? Why is a bicameral legislature more desirable than a unicameral legislature? Why is this country called a “Republic” and what does the word mean? Is a “republic” necessarily a democracy?

Here is what we aren’t told in “Government 101:”

. The constitutional convention had no legal authority to replace the Articles of Confederation. The members were given explicit instructions to amend the Articles only.

. The Constitution was considered ratified in 1788 when only seven states signed on. According to the Articles of Confederation, any changes were to be agreed upon by all thirteen states.

. The constitutional convention was held in complete secrecy. Why? The Constitution was prepared in four months. What was the hurry? The Articles of Confederation were deliberated over a period of years.

. Seven of the thirteen states – a majority – were opposed to ratifying the Constitution. Time pressure, badgering, manipulation, violence, threats, lying, destruction of ballots and mail tampering were needed to get the Constitution ratified.

. At its birth the United States was an agrarian society. Eighty to ninety percent of the citizenry were small farmers. However, of the fifty-five members of the convention not a single small farmer was to be found. To a man, they were lawyers, wealthy merchants, speculators, members of the landholding aristocracy.

. The early Americans were happy with the Articles of Confederation, a confederation of independent states. It provided a government responsive to the needs of its citizens. There was no wish to replace this loose confederation of states, responsive to the needs of its constituents, with a highly centralized government, too distant to respond to the wishes of the local communities.

. Returning veterans of the revolution were in need of money. They sold their war bonds at a fraction of their face value to speculators who toured the country swooping them up wherever they could find them. These speculators then expected to receive full interest on the face value, which meant taxing the farmers beyond their means. Farmers were losing their homes, farms and livestock to debt collectors. State legislatures were sympathetic to the farmers’ cause, postponing taxes and issuing paper currency as a means of lessening the burden. Bondholders needed the strong central government under the new Constitution as a means of overriding state legislatures so they could collect their interest. Thus did oligarchy replace incipient democracy.

. The first proposed amendment to the Constitution was not the “Bill of Rights” or first ten amendments. The first proposed amendment was known as “Article the First” or the “Congressional Apportionment Amendment.” Its purpose was to control the size of congressional districts. When congressional districts are kept small, the result is more congressional districts and hence more congressmen. The more voices, the more democratic the government. The “Congressional Apportionment Amendment” specified that no district contain more than 50,000 people. By today’s census of over 300 million in population, there would be 6,000 representatives instead of 435. Instead of one voice per 50,000, we have one voice per 600,000. Only, eleven of thirteen states ratified the amendment, depriving it of the necessary unanimity.

. In 1776, the state of Pennsylvania wrote the most democratic constitution this country has ever seen. There was but one popular branch to pass laws. There was no elitist senate to “check” its wishes.

. The word “republic” does not describe a form of government. It emerged at the time of the Roman Republic when monarchy was replaced with oligarchy. “Republic” describes a negative condition. It means government without a monarch. It does not mean democracy. Where a small number of people speak for the citizen body, as is the case in the United States, that government is known as an oligarchy.


These are some of the historical facts, not factoids, or facts without context of meaning, but facts studied in historical context, attached to meaning that can assist us in our attempt to understand how our government works, why it works the way it does and how it can be improved to better serve the common good.

The truth is rarely boring. It is only when concrete words are emptied of their relevance and replaced with empty abstractions that we are left feeling confused, alienated and disempowered, a description of what it means to feel bored.

Arthur D. Robbins

Books Are My Friends

I am a psychologist with a practice in Manhattan. Recently, I have taken an interest in history. PARADISE LOST, PARADISE REGAINED: THE TRUE MEANING OF DEMOCRFACY is the result.

When I was a college student I had almost no interest in history. In fact, the only time I can actually remember falling asleep in class was at a large history lecture. I studied English and American literature as an undergraduate, then French literature in Graduate school at Columbia University where I specialized in 18th century political thought. And perhaps there, now that I think about it, was the kernel of an interest in political history that didn’t mature until many years later.

I have always enjoyed reading good biography, biography of writers like Pushkin and Tolstoy, exquisitely written by Henri Troyat, biography of political figures like Marx, Lenin and Thomas Paine.

Early on I took a fancy to 19th century Russian writers. I am a great admirer of Chekov’s short stories. I read Anna Karenina three times. For me, the opening scene where Oblonksy wakes sleeping on the leather couch in the study instead of in bed with his wife is certainly one of the best beginnings to a novel.

One day I was meandering around the Columbia University campus in springtime. There were rows of library trucks loaded with books that the library was seeking to rid itself of. On one of the trucks wasMy Past and Thoughts, the memoirs of Alexander Herzen, four volumes, earthy yellow, with gold lettering. The visual uniformity of the neatly arranged books appealed to me.

Herzen’s father was a member of the landed aristocracy. On his death Herzen left Russia for Europe in search of a political climate more hospitable to his socialist ideas. His inherited wealth gave him the freedom to publish a newspaper, visit the capitals of Europe and promote his progressive political outlook.

Herzen enjoyed good company and was sensitive to the emotional make-up of the people he encountered, mostly politically engaged intellectuals like himself. We are given character portraits of some of the most important people of the time. The memoirs are filled with the richness of human interaction, of life lived to its fullest with courage and imagination.

Herzen was born in 1812, the year Napoleon invaded Russia and actually made it to Moscow. Here is how the memoirs begin.

“’Vera Artamonova, come tell me once more how the French came to Moscow,’ I used to say, rolling myself up in the quilt and stretching in my crib, which was sewn round with canvas that I might not fall out.”

The innocence and magic of childhood are captured in these few lines. It reminds me of Proust as a child in A La Recherche du Temps Perdu wishing his mother would leave the guests downstairs and come up to kiss him goodnight.

I traveled with Herzen and experienced the richness of life as he did. At one point, Herzen was living in Nice with his family. He describes, in detail, the day of his mother’s expected arrival along with his son Kolya from their trip to Paris. “…We decorated her rooms with flowers, our cook went out with Sasha and got some Chinese lanterns, and we hung them about the walls and trees.” His mother and son never made it. Their ship collided with another. Mother and son were taken to a salty grave.

“I stood there for a little; the morning was very cold, particularly by the sea. The mistral was still blowing, the sky was covered with clouds of a Russian autumn. Farewell! … A hundred eighty metres deep, and a floating patch of oil! “ [all that was left of the ship, his mother and son]

I frequently pass the bookshelf where Herzen’s four volumes have their home. They never fail to evoke a certain melancholy longing for our relationship. One day I should go back to revisit my good friend.

For a year and I half I studied psychopathology at the Sorbonne in Paris. Towards the end of my stay I was engaged in writing a thesis as part of my academic requirement. It turned out that my supervisor was President of the Societe des Ami de Pierre Janet. I had never heard of Pierre Janet yet when my advisor informed me that the Society was issuing a new edition of Janet’s Psychologisme Automatique (loosely translated, “Unconscious Behavior”) I thought it would be politic to purchase a copy, as he suggested.

This was a dusty blue, paperback edition with the pages still uncut, a quaint European tradition I at first found annoying. I thought how typically chauvinistic and typically French of my Professor to offer Janet as the French answer to Freud. After all, Freud reigned supreme. Janet was an unknown, a tinkerer as far as I could tell.

The Janet book along with other books I had acquired were packed into a trunk and shipped aboard the Sea Witch to the United States. The book arrived safely, barely, to American shores. On the very next voyage the Sea Witch hit a shoal and sunk to the bottom of New York Harbor.

For years I packed and unpacked the Janet book as I moved from one setting to another, never cracking, never cutting a single page. Every so often the book would catch my eye and I would be reminded of my most remarkable experience in Paris, rising at six in the morning and boarding a bus that took me down winding streets where shopkeepers were washing their windows and city workers were sweeping the sidewalks with brooms made of thorny branches. Then it was across the Pont Neuf with a fading moon and streetlights reflected in the darkened waters of the Seine.

After a while Psychologisme Automatique blended in with other spines on the shelf and I completely forgot about it. Then one day I had occasion to look into Sandor Ferenczi’s Clinical Diaries. I was doing research into psychotraumatology. Janet’s book was right along side. Well, said I, maybe it is time to cut a few pages.

My understanding of psychotraumatology was never the same. Unlike Freud, who was more of a romancier than a scientist, Janet was rigorous in his discipline and operated with the highest degree of intellectual integrity. He was a researcher who more than anyone understood the formation of secondary consciousness subsequent to childhood trauma.

Janet’s way of understanding the many bizarre phenomena of dissociation is quite simple. How could anyone hold a pose for an hour without so much as a tremor? According to Janet, the narrow field of consciousness allows only one stimulus image at a time. It is the absence of competing stimuli that explains this unusual performance. One of his patients would be actively engaged in conversation. Janet would whisper a mathematical problem in her ear. Without interrupting the flow of words she would do the math and write out the answer. How is that possible? There exists a secondary consciousness that operates independently of primary consciousness.

How fortunate I was that Janet’s book did not sink to the bottom of New York harbor, that it remained in my line of vision right along side Ferenczi’s Clinical Studies. I read it twice, the second time taking careful notes. I had once thought of making a translation but that would be an enormous undertaking.

As with Herzen’s memoirs it was the physicality of the book with its light, dusty blue cover, with the uncut pages that brought me to the book’s important content. My shelves are filled with many such colorful images, different colored spines, of different proportions, hardcover, softcover, filled with ideas, impressions, memories and associations. The physical presence of these books in my life is an important part of who I am as a person. Empty those shelves and a part of me disappears.

Years ago, when I moved upstate, I decided that enough was too much. I kept buying books and holding on to them. Where would it end? Would I need an apartment just for the books? It is strenuous work packing books, installing shelves in a new location, loading the shelves. I made what I thought was a mature, practical decision. We had an old baby carriage in the apartment. I loaded the carriage with as many books as it could hold and headed over to a used furniture shop on 78th street that also accepted books.

In this primitive manner I transferred five hundred books from the apartment to the shop. The owner accepted any and all books without question. Anything with two covers and even a few pages constituted a book, that is, anything from a theatre program to an unabridged dictionary weighing between five to ten pounds. Each “book” brought in the handsome sum of ten cents. If you do the arithmetic you will discover that my efforts yielded $50.

At the time I was quite pleased with the fact that I had unburdened myself of at least five hundred pounds of books. But I have been grieving that achievement ever since. I had given away books that had a personal meaning that went beyond sheer content. There were books I used for Freshman English, each with my name and the date on the first inside page. There were underlinings and perhaps a comment or two that were relevant to an upcoming exam. I remember in particular the red and cream colored, soft cover Victorian reader. There were selections from J.S. Mill, Cardinal Newman, Walter Horatio Pater (or was it Newman) who, I believe, spoke of “burning with a hard gem like flame,” a phrase that has never been far from consciousness in the intervening years.

There was Milton’s Lycidas the novels of D.H. Lawrence and a cheap Russian reader, with its cover half torn off, that I used when studying Russian. I remember in particular Pushkin’s, “Station Master.” I had memorized the opening lines and would have taken my Russian farther if only I hadn’t given away the book.

For years afterwards I had a recurring fantasy that I would be walking down upper Broadway and would come upon one of the hapless but ever optimistic, free spirits who spread a blanket out on the sidewalk and offer used books for sale. I was convinced that one day I would search the titles on display and find the books I had given away. That never happened. They are gone for good. Yet these books were my friends, my good friends. How could I have abandoned them?