The end of philosophy in 800 words or less

David Brooks gets under a lot of liberals' skin, but one thing I've always appreciated is that he seems to have a pretty deep interest in cognitive psychology and neuroscience, and is willing to write about it in his op-ed columns. Even if a lot of what he says is not exactly cutting edge stuff, I think he's still performing an important function: introducing key concepts from the brain sciences to a mainstream audience. So when he writes an article called "The End of Philosophy" trying to get across the notion that the Enlightenment-era conception of the mind as the "seat of reason" has been shown by science to be completely inaccurate, I'm sympathetic.

However, plenty of people aren't so sympathetic, and in fact they have a pretty good reason not to be: Brooks' column is terrible. From John Cole's Balloon Juice:

David Brooks has another of his patented “science explains social things but I won’t tell you how or cite any actual articles” pieces today. This one is about the “science of morality.”

And, indeed, Brooks does not cite any articles, and many of the claims he makes are as vapid as they are pithy (e.g., "The rise and now dominance of this emotional approach to morality... challenges the bookish way philosophy is conceived by most people." Huh?). While a person who is already familiar with philosophy and cognitive science (ahem) can charitably fill in the blanks, everyone else is left scratching their heads.

The problem, I think, is that Brooks is working in an incredibly constricted format--the newspaper op-ed. Consider all the advantages of a blog: there is no length limit, you can post as often and as much as you want, you can include links, you can include as many images as you want, you can go back and edit posts to make them clearer, you can dialog with commenters or other bloggers, you can vary the difficulty of your posts (as for example Krugman does with his "wonkish" versus non-wonkish posts), etc. Maybe if he were blogging Brooks would do a good job conveying all these difficult ideas to a mainstream audience--but as it is, he is trying to cram everything into 800 words of newspaper print, which I'm pretty sure would be impossible even for Socrates.

Oh, and in case you don't know who Socrates is or what he is famous for, let me give you the Brooks capsule summary:

Socrates talked.

Got that?

Through the looking glass

David Brooks touches, I think, on a lot of the same things I was getting at in my earlier post about personal responsibility going out the window during a depression:

Our moral and economic system is based on individual responsibility. It’s based on the idea that people have to live with the consequences of their decisions. This makes them more careful deciders. This means that society tends toward justice — people get what they deserve as much as possible.

...

...Individual responsibility doesn’t mean much in an economy like this one. We all know people who have been laid off through no fault of their own. The responsible have been punished along with the profligate.

...It makes sense for government to try to restore some communal order. And the sad reality is that in these circumstances government has to spend money on precisely those sectors that have been swinging most wildly — housing, finance, etc. It has to help stabilize people who have been idiots.

As Krugman would say, we're "through the looking glass"--virtuous behavior on an individual level is sinking the economy, and the only way to bring it back up is to give money to those who behaved the worst.

Powerful VP?

David Brooks has an advice-columny column about why he thinks Obama should pick Joe Biden as his VP. At one point, he talks about how Biden's loyalty will be good to have:

...there are moments when a president has to go into the cabinet room and announce a decision that nearly everyone else on his team disagrees with. In those moments, he needs a vice president who will provide absolute support.

Does he? It was my understanding that, normally, the VP plays a fairly peripheral role in the White House, and isn't in a position to influence the president's decisions (Dick Cheney was a big exception to that).

So is it indeed the case that Obama will follow this trend of empowering the vice president, such that he/she would be in a position to wield serious influence? I don't think I've ever read anything on this or heard anything about it from Obama that would tell us one way or the other.

The curious and the heroic

Conservative commentators David Brooks and George Will had strikingly different reactions to the Olympic opening ceremony in Beijing. For Brooks, the demonstrations of large groups working in synchronicity evoked a sort of scientific curiosity about how a society like China's and one like ours might be fundamentally different, and what that might mean for the future of geopolitics:

The world can be divided in many ways — rich and poor, democratic and authoritarian — but one of the most striking is the divide between the societies with an individualist mentality and the ones with a collectivist mentality.

This is a divide that goes deeper than economics into the way people perceive the world.

[...]

...experiments have been done over and over again, and the results reveal the same underlying pattern. Americans usually see individuals; Chinese and other Asians see contexts....Americans are more likely to see categories. Asians are more likely to see relationships.

[...]

...what happens if collectivist societies snap out of their economic stagnation? What happens if collectivist societies, especially those in Asia, rise economically and come to rival the West? A new sort of global conversation develops.

The opening ceremony...was part of China’s assertion that development doesn’t come only through Western, liberal means, but also through Eastern and collective ones.

For George Will, on the other hand, the ceremonies brought to mind a more straightforward analogy to--what else?--Nazi Germany:

For only the third time in 72 years (Berlin 1936, Moscow 1980), the Games are being hosted by a tyrannical regime, the mind of which was displayed in the opening ceremonies featuring thousands of drummers, each face contorted with the same grotesquely frozen grin. It was a tableau of the miniaturization of the individual and the subordination of individuality to the collective. Not since the Nazi's 1934 Nuremberg rally, which Leni Riefenstahl turned into the film "Triumph of the Will," has tyranny been so brazenly tarted up as art.

A worldwide audience of billions swooned over the Beijing ceremony. Who remembers 1934? Or anything.

Both Brooks and Will are interested in the same basic question: the question of the threat of Chinese collectivism. But their attitudes are very different. Brooks looks to empirical research to try to understand Chinese society, and regards it as something that is historically new under the sun, an alternative--and perhaps distinctly Chinese--route to development. Will, on the other hand, is all too ready to understand China as a 21st century reincarnation of 20th century Nazi Germany. Zhang Yimou is Leni Riefenstahl; Beijing is Berlin; 2008 is 1934.

Brooks casts himself as the curious commentator who believes that the world can be understood via empirical research at the sociological and neuro-psychological level; Will casts himself as the heroic voice in the wilderness who believes that the world is best understood via historical analogies.

I'm not sure if one approach is categorically better than the other, or if there might be a third kind of sensibility that is a better choice than these two. But personally I find the Brooks outlook more prudent and more open to new possibilities--and therefore, in a world that is difficult to divine, more sound.

Not the President

David Brooks calls bullshit on Obama's Berlin speech, saying that it lacks any actual arguments:

When John F. Kennedy and Ronald Reagan went to Berlin, their rhetoric soared, but their optimism was grounded in the reality of politics, conflict and hard choices. Kennedy didn’t dream of the universal brotherhood of man. He drew lines that reflected hard realities: “There are some who say, in Europe and elsewhere, we can work with the Communists. Let them come to Berlin.” Reagan didn’t call for a kumbaya moment. He cited tough policies that sparked harsh political disagreements — the deployment of U.S. missiles in response to the Soviet SS-20s — but still worked.

[Obama] has grown accustomed to putting on this sort of saccharine show for the rock concert masses, and in Berlin his act jumped the shark. His words drift far from reality....

Obama has benefited from a week of good images. But substantively, optimism without reality isn’t eloquence. It’s just Disney.

I agree with Brooks that, compared to the Berlin speeches made by Kennedy and Reagan, Obama's was light on substance--some pretty airy-fairy stuff. But I also think it makes a critical difference that Obama, unlike Kennedy and Reagan at the time, is not the acting head of state. If Obama had gone in with all sorts of substantive policy proposals, it would have been too explicitly presidential and he would have been rightly skewered for pretending to powers he doesn't have.

So I think Obama was wise to keep this a largely superficial event--an event that shows to people back home that, hey, it doesn't have to be the case that Europeans loathe America.

What Brooks is missing

David Brooks writes that Obama has sold out his support for public financing:

And then on Thursday, Fast Eddie Obama had his finest hour. Barack Obama has worked on political reform more than any other issue. He aspires to be to political reform what Bono is to fighting disease in Africa. He’s spent much of his career talking about how much he believes in public financing. In January 2007, he told Larry King that the public-financing system works. In February 2007, he challenged Republicans to limit their spending and vowed to do so along with them if he were the nominee. In February 2008, he said he would aggressively pursue spending limits. He answered a Midwest Democracy Network questionnaire by reminding everyone that he has been a longtime advocate of the public-financing system.

But Thursday, at the first breath of political inconvenience, Fast Eddie Obama threw public financing under the truck. In so doing, he probably dealt a death-blow to the cause of campaign-finance reform. And the only thing that changed between Thursday and when he lauded the system is that Obama’s got more money now.

This criticism is fair, I think, to some extent: it is true that the only difference between then and now is that now Obama has a whole bunch of money and doesn't need public financing, and that's why he has thrown the issue "under the truck". However, what matters here is the manner in which Obama has acquired all that cash. The whole public campaign financing issue is premised on the notion that the only way to rake up large sums of cash is to collect it from a select few wealthy individuals and corporations, giving these groups disproportionate influence in electoral politics. The fact that Obama has raised his millions from legions of small donors shows that this premise is false: the internet makes it possible for large numbers of ordinary people to exert a far greater influence in electoral politics than even the wealthiest individual contributors. In this new age of bottom-up fundraising, campaign finance reform has become a solution for a problem that no longer exists.

Of course, Obama rationalizing his withdrawal from the public finance system by calling it "broken" and blaming Republican 527s really is disingenuous, and he should be called out on it. But ultimately I think his move is justified: we are in a brave new world of campaign fundraising where the old rules and concerns either no longer apply or are far less significant.

People can't stand atheists

I appreciate David Brooks striking out on a topic of conversation that doesn't involve politics, but here he's just embarrassing himself:

Genes are not merely selfish, it appears. Instead, people seem to have deep instincts for fairness, empathy and attachment.

A subtle "jab" at Richard Dawkins that entirely misconstrues his "selfish gene" argument. It is not as if the metaphorical selfishness of genes in general entails that humans exhibit literal selfishness. There is nothing so far that has been discovered about the brain or anything else that argues against Dawkins' basic characterization of evolutionary biology as a marketplace where genes compete ("selfishly") for space on the genome.

Moreover, none of these empirical details have any relevance to a debate about materialism, which seems to be what Brooks is trying to rebut.

Responding to Paul Krugman

Paul Krugman has an op-ed today that makes a couple of points defending Hillary Clinton and a couple of points questioning Barack Obama. As a dutiful Obama supporter, I'll try to make arguments against some of his points.

Mr. Obama was supposed to be a transformational figure, with an almost magical ability to transcend partisan differences and unify the nation.

This is the common misunderstanding of Obama's rhetoric when content is confused with process. When Obama talks about "transcending" partisan differences, it does not mean that somehow everyone will hew to the same ideological line, or that ideological differences will go away. Rather, it means that the process of politics will be executed in good faith, and that the opposition will have its voice be heard and not be shut out of the process, encouraging pragmatic resolutions to the immense problems our nation faces: the Iraq War, the upcoming recession, health care affordability, rising energy prices, global warming, terrorism, etc. There is nothing "magical" about any of this, and there is no rule that says that only Obama is capable of achieving it. Clinton could have chosen this route of conciliary and empathetic politics, but instead has opted for 90s-style ultra-partisan warfare politics and its incessant "fighting" of the "Republican machine". This difference in political methodologies between the candidates is a substantive one. As Clinton herself demonstrated in the early 1990s with the 'Hillarycare' debacle, the wrong political strategy can doom even the most well-thought-out policy.

Once voters got to know him — and once he had eliminated Hillary Clinton’s initial financial and organizational advantage — he was supposed to sweep easily to the nomination, then march on to a huge victory in November.

If the implication is that this was the Obama campaign's prediction of how things would go, then it is wrong. In fact, the Obama campaign has for a long time been soberly predicting that Obama's margin of victory would not be large and that there would be absolutely nothing easy about toppling the Clinton machine. So there is more humility to the Obama campaign, I think, than Krugman lets on.

Well, now he has an overwhelming money advantage and the support of much of the Democratic establishment — yet he still can’t seem to win over large blocs of Democratic voters, especially among the white working class.

As a result, he keeps losing big states.

It has always been predicted that Obama would lose big states such as Texas, Ohio, and Pennsylvania (at around Super Tuesday, the Obama campaign itself predicted losses in these states by 4, 7, and 5 percent, respectively). This is part of the reason why Obama's campaign strategy has been to capitalize on lopsided margins in smaller states and/or caucus states where superior organization pays off.

And general election polls suggest that he might well lose to John McCain.

Tellingly, no citation. In the helpful metapoll over at RealClearPolitics, it shows that Obama is polling on average 1.5 points ahead of McCain, and Clinton is polling 0.6 ahead. In other words, even though the Democrats are currently campaigning against each other, they are both essentially in a dead heat with McCain (good news for Democrats). So I don't know where Krugman is getting his polling data from.

According to many Obama supporters, it’s all Hillary’s fault. If she hadn’t launched all those vile, negative attacks on their hero — if she had just gone away — his aura would be intact, and his mission of unifying America still on track.

But how negative has the Clinton campaign been, really? Yes, it ran an ad that included Osama bin Laden in a montage of crisis images that also included the Great Depression and Hurricane Katrina. To listen to some pundits, you’d think that ad was practically the same as the famous G.O.P. ad accusing Max Cleland of being weak on national security.

It wasn’t. The attacks from the Clinton campaign have been badminton compared with the hardball Republicans will play this fall. If the relatively mild rough and tumble of the Democratic fight has been enough to knock Mr. Obama off his pedestal, what hope did he ever have of staying on it through the general election?

I agree with Krugman that many Obama supporters overstate the damage done by Clinton's attacks, and tend to exaggerate the actual negativity of the ads themselves. At the same time, though, I don't think it makes sense to judge the negativity of Clinton's ads by using Republican attacks as a yardstick. Even if a Clinton attack is substantively less negative than a Republican one, the fact that it is uttered by a fellow Democrat can make it far more damaging. For example, the suggestion that Obama is less prepared to be President than John McCain is very damaging coming from the mouth of a leading Democrat, but is par for the course coming from a Republican.

Moreover, I think Krugman and Clinton supporters in general should be on guard against facile arguments of the type "what Clinton did was justified in the primary because Republicans will do the same thing in the general". To a certain extent it's fair--and in fact desired--for primary candidates to take off the gloves a little bit and go after each other's weak spots, especially the ones that will likely be exploited in the general election. Hillary's prevarications, Obama's preacher--bring it on. However, as I argue above, there are some attacks that cannot be made by Republicans, that can only inflict pain because they are uttered by Democrats. It doesn't make sense to say of these Democrat-on-Democrat attacks that they are some kind of precursor of what is to come in the general election, and therefore fair game.

[M]aybe his transformational campaign isn’t winning over working-class voters because transformation isn’t what they’re looking for.

From the beginning, I wondered what Mr. Obama’s soaring rhetoric, his talk of a new politics and declarations that “we are the ones we’ve been waiting for” (waiting for to do what, exactly?) would mean to families troubled by lagging wages, insecure jobs and fear of losing health coverage. The answer, from Ohio and Pennsylvania, seems pretty clear: not much. Mrs. Clinton has been able to stay in the race, against heavy odds, largely because her no-nonsense style, her obvious interest in the wonkish details of policy, resonate with many voters in a way that Mr. Obama’s eloquence does not.

I agree absolutely with Krugman: the majority of the sorts of "troubled" working-class families described above are going to favor Clinton's no-nonsense wonkish approach over Obama's admittedly airy-fairy rhetoric of "change" and "transcendence". No one's saying that Clinton doesn't have strengths--indeed, I think Obama has learned from Clinton that often times conveying wonkish competence and mastery of details can be more comforting than high-flying oratory. However, just because these voters prefer Clinton to Obama does not mean that they will prefer McCain to Obama. If these voters are really as policy and detail minded as Krugman suggests, then they will certainly choose any Democrat over any Republican in the general, come what may. The same is not necessarily true, however, for many Independents and new voters who do respond to Obama's soaring oratory--which is why I think Obama is better positioned than Clinton to win the general election in November.

Tellingly, the Obama campaign has put far more energy into attacking Mrs. Clinton’s health care proposals than it has into promoting the idea of universal coverage.

During the closing days of the Pennsylvania primary fight, the Obama campaign ran a TV ad repeating the dishonest charge that the Clinton plan would force people to buy health insurance they can’t afford. It was as negative as any ad that Mrs. Clinton has run — but perhaps more important, it was fear-mongering aimed at people who don’t think they need insurance, rather than reassurance for families who are trying to get coverage or are afraid of losing it.

To say that Obama "has put far more energy" into attacking Clinton than promoting universal coverage is, I think, an obvious exaggeration. But I do agree that the particular attack ad that Krugman refers to was an inexcusable misrepresentation of Clinton's health care proposals, and should never have been run.

The question Democrats, both inside and outside the Obama campaign, should be asking themselves is this: now that the magic has dissipated, what is the campaign about? More generally, what are the Democrats for in this election?

That should be an easy question to answer. Democrats can justly portray themselves as the party of economic security, the party that created Social Security and Medicare and defended those programs against Republican attacks — and the party that can bring assured health coverage to all Americans.

They can also portray themselves as the party of prosperity: the contrast between the Clinton economy and the Bush economy is the best free advertisement that Democrats have had since Herbert Hoover.

But the message that Democrats are ready to continue and build on a grand tradition doesn’t mesh well with claims to be bringing a “new politics” and rhetoric that places blame for our current state equally on both parties.

I think the Democratic candidate will be able to portray him or herself and the party in all the ways Krugman wants them to be portrayed, whether it's Obama or Clinton. What we're seeing here is the kind of myopia and cognitive dissonance that the long and bitter primary tends to cause amongst Democrats: we tend to lose sight of the fact that both candidates--though different in their political styles and what they emphasize--are overwhelmingly more the same than different, with almost no significant policy differences between them. Moreover, there is no tension between Obama's project of a "new politics" and the idea of building on "a grand tradition" of the Democratic Party, so long as we remember to distinguish between the content of policy proposals (which build on tradition) and the process of getting those policies passed into law (which requires "new politics").

So I think Krugman's criticisms of Obama are overblown. On the other hand, I'm also sympathetic to the article in general: with Frank Rich, Maureen Dowd, and even David Brooks cheerleading for Obama week in and week out and bashing Clinton, a Clinton supporter like Krugman must feel obligated to balance out the scales a little bit on the NYT op-ed pages.

It's official

I fucking sick and tired of the campaign, the media, politicians, and every other power-wielding retard. I need to take a break. Apparently, so does David Brooks.

I mean, for chrissakes--fuck.

Wisdom: received

From David Brooks' infuriating op-ed:

Charles Gibson and George Stephanopoulos of ABC News are taking a lot of heat for spending so much time asking about Jeremiah Wright and the “bitter” comments. But the fact is that voters want a president who basically shares their values and life experiences. Fairly or not, they look at symbols like Michael Dukakis in a tank, John Kerry’s windsurfing or John Edwards’s haircut as clues about shared values.

Do they? We all know that the media presumes that these events are meaningful to voters. I mean, after all, if Dukakis loses the election after appearing silly in a tank, then it follows that Dukakis lost the election because he appeared silly in a tank. I mean, there's no logical fallacy with a fancy Latin name lurking anywhere in that reasoning, right?

Clearly, when any candidate loses an election, the loss can be attributed to whatever gaffe that candidate committed that the media played up the most. Based on this, Brooks' assertion that voters care about shared-values-and-life-experiences clues cannot be denied. Oh, and also: knowing how to bowl is sufficient for two people sharing the same "life experience".

I see nothing wrong with any of this.

A depressing view of a journalist's job

David Brooks had an uncharacteristically off-base comment about tonight's Democratic debate:

First, Democrats, and especially Obama supporters, are going to jump all over ABC for the choice of topics: too many gaffe questions, not enough policy questions.

I understand the complaints, but I thought the questions were excellent. The journalist’s job is to make politicians uncomfortable, to explore evasions, contradictions and vulnerabilities. Almost every question tonight did that. The candidates each looked foolish at times, but that’s their own fault.

Wrong, David. Though the journalist's job often entails making politicians uncomfortable in a variety of ways, this sort of gotcha-game is not the journalist's job per se.

It is not helpful to "expose" a "contradiction" of some candidate when there is nothing at stake besides making the candidate look momentarily foolish; there's got to be some substantive and pressing issue that the interrogation is leading up to, some civic payoff. Thus, grilling Hillary Clinton about her sniperfire remarks is fine but only if it's leading up to some hard questions about just what her claims of experience amount to; and hammering Obama on the Wright issue is appropriate so long as it serves as an entry point into what Obama's views of race are. But lingering for 45 minutes on this stuff with no substantive upshot is nothing more than the fetishization of insider campaign politics.

Political Animal

Hillary Clinton has decided to personally weigh in on the Obama-Wright controversy:

"You know, I spoke out against Don Imus, saying that hate speech was unacceptable in any setting, and I believe that.... I think you have to speak out against that. You certainly have to do that, if not explicitly, then implicitly by getting up and moving."

What is interesting to me about this is the equivalence it strikes between Clinton's relation to Don Imus and Obama's relation to his pastor. In the first instance, you have two publicly-facing figures--Clinton and Imus--who are strangers to each other and yet both occupy a spot on the broad stage of American politics. Their interaction with each other was nothing more than part of the strange kabuki that invariably plays out whenever anyone runs afoul of the (sometimes arbitrary but mostly useful) rhetorical boundaries that separate racist from non-racist speech. Even despite the fact that no one seriously believed that Don Imus was actually a racist--and even though the women who were the target of his unfortunate "nappy headed hos" remark publicly forgave him for the mistake--a long line of unrelated public figures, including Clinton, went on television to "speak out" against Imus and say all sorts of obligatory things meant to send signals of support to those whose political power is expressed, in part, by universal recognition of and adherence to the boundaries that delineate acceptable political rhetoric on race. And, though doing this may have been unfair to Imus on a personal level insofar as it too-quickly castigated him as a racist, there was a political justification for it because it reinforced, re-validated, and re-legitimized the rhetorical boundaries that signify America's rejection of racism. So Clinton subjugated the personal to the political in dealing with Imus' gaffe; but this followed naturally from the fact that Clinton only had a political, and not personal, relationship with Imus.

Obama is in a different kind of bind because the unacceptable remarks were made not by a stranger who shares the national political stage, but a dear friend, mentor, and spiritual guide. If Obama were to "speak out" against Wright and sever ties with him--as Clinton seems to suggest Obama ought to do--he would, at least according to the rhetorical logic of American politics, be "sending a strong message" that no racist speech ought to go unpunished, and would thereby reinforce the legitimacy of America's stand against racism. However, it would also come at a great cost to Obama personally: he would be throwing someone he cares about under the bus, and compromising his integrity in the process. Obama's response was to try his best to have it both ways: while at the same time doing right by his pastor and defending him as a good man who sometimes says inflammatory things, he defused the rhetorical implications of not categorically denouncing him in front of the nation by explicitly addressing race in a major speech. This attempt to have it both ways was risky for Obama because it required Americans--and the media--to hear the speech as something meant to engage them directly and explicitly on race, rather than indirectly through rhetorical code geared primarily toward media consumption and echo-chambering. It is not clear if Obama was completely successful in this, but the fact that his campaign has not entirely collapsed suggests that he was at least successful enough.

Obama's demonstrated ability to survive politically without sacrificing his personal sense of decency puts Clinton's reputation for cut-throat politics into sharp relief. Consider David Brooks' recent devastating assessment of Clinton as some kind of relentless political beast:

For nearly 20 years, she has been encased in the apparatus of political celebrity. Look at her schedule as first lady and ever since. Think of the thousands of staged events, the tens of thousands of times she has pretended to be delighted to see someone she doesn’t know, the hundreds of thousands times she has recited empty clichés and exhortatory banalities, the millions of photos she has posed for in which she is supposed to appear empathetic or tough, the billions of politically opportune half-truths that have bounced around her head.

I have always thought these judgments of Clinton to be unfair; they describe any and every politician, Obama included. But the reason why Clinton gets this reputation and Obama instead gets dubbed "authentic" is not because one is calculating and the other is not, but because one is making a different calculation than the other. While Obama has attempted to bypass the often stifling limitations of conventional political rhetoric to good effect--admitting drug use, conceding that some ideas from opposing ideologies are worthwhile--Clinton has waged political war from firmly within its confines. Such a strategy must have appeared low-risk to her in the short-run; but over time, it has earned her the reputation of soulless, inhuman political animal.

Different theories of change

David Brooks has an excellent column today about the core difference between Clinton and Obama in their approach to politics:

Obama sketched out a different theory of social change than the one Clinton had implied earlier in the evening. Instead of relying on a president who fights for those who feel invisible, Obama, in the climactic passage of his speech, described how change bubbles from the bottom-up: “And because that somebody stood up, a few more stood up. And then a few thousand stood up. And then a few million stood up. And standing up, with courage and clear purpose, they somehow managed to change the world!”

...For young people who have grown up on Facebook, YouTube, open-source software and an array of decentralized networks, this is a compelling theory of how change happens.

Clinton had sounded like a traditional executive, as someone who gathers the experts, forges a policy, fights the opposition, bears the burdens of power, negotiates the deal and, in crisis, makes the decision at 3 o’clock in the morning.

But Obama sounded like a cross between a social activist and a flannel-shirted software C.E.O. — as a nonhierarchical, collaborative leader who can inspire autonomous individuals to cooperate for the sake of common concerns.

It's a fad these days to make this sort of conceptual distinction within some domain--bottom-up versus top-down, stochastic versus deterministic, decentralized versus hierarchical, etc.--and then go ahead and call it "X 2.0" or otherwise hail it as the Next Big Way Of Things. So I approach Brooks' facile distinction between Clinton and Obama along those lines with some wariness.

Still, though, it seems to me like Brooks is making some keen observations here. Clinton's message is: "I will make it happen". Obama's is: "You will make it happen".