Carl F. Horowitz is director of the Organized Labor Accountability Project of the National Legal and Policy Center, a Townhall.com Gold Partner organization dedicated to promoting ethics in American public life.
By now almost everyone glued to financial news outlets knows that the Republic of Ireland, population 4.5 million, is set to receive a whopping emergency loan bailout worth 67.5 billion euros (US$89.4 billion).
Timothy Pigford’s gift keeps on giving. Taxpayers, unfortunately, aren’t likely to be in such a giving mood. The U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) last month announced a $760 million settlement of a civil suit in which American Indian farmers and ranchers claimed discrimination at the hands of USDA program administrators. The agreement follows similar out-of-court settlements this year with black and Hispanic plaintiff-farmers.
Call it a paradox. The U.S. economy officially has been out of recession for 15 months. The stock market enjoyed a record-high September; durable goods orders are up; and consumer spending is growing.
There’s a giant paradox in the nation’s housing market now. Mortgage interest rates have fallen to near all-time lows, yet homeowners as a whole are in a state of unease not seen since the Great Depression.
America’s colleges and universities might not qualify as bailout material, but the nation should get ready for what amounts to a federal takeover of higher education financing. Legislation signed March 30 by President Barack Obama practically seals the deal. And despite the administration’s claims to the contrary, taxpayers may find the transition exceedingly expensive.
Blacks account for about 1.5 percent of all farm operators in this country – and apparently a lot higher share of the civil rights lawsuits against the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA). On February 18, lawyers for the USDA and thousands of black farmers reached a $1.25 billion class-action agreement resolving, for now, claims that the department had engaged in willful racial discrimination in managing its loan and other aid programs.
The federal takeover of General Motors and Chrysler has produced its share of collateral damage, but perhaps no group of persons has been left in the lurch more than the roughly 15,000 nonunion salaried retirees of auto parts manufacturer Delphi Corporation who are unlikely to receive their promised benefits.
Culture War polemicists who imagine themselves to be carrying the torch of liberty frequently proclaim that today’s film producers and directors “mock” and “ridicule” our nation’s cherished values.
Irving Kristol, who died last month at age 89, inspired some highly mixed feelings in me. On the positive side, this renowned public intellectual was possessed of political realism, a firm anti-utopian grasp of the possible.
For nearly 50 years it has been an article of faith among American conservatives that liberty and tradition are mutually reinforcing.
As a columnist for the South Florida Sun Sentinel, the newspaper of record for Broward County, Michael Mayo is a fairly astute fellow. But that hasn’t made him immune to credit card issuers pulling the rug from under him. This past April he posted the following tale of personal woe:
Starbucks, that epitome of a socially-conscious corporation, is now the target of an escalating campaign to blacken its name. One can understand why radical activists would go after discount retailing behemoth Wal-Mart. But who would have thought they’d also have classy Starbucks in their sights?
Who could argue with so noble an idea as “national service?” On the surface, the idea is irresistible.
The $787 billion economic stimulus package passed and signed into law last month had any number of co-sponsors in Congress, but in a real sense its main author was someone deceased for more than 60 years.
They’re called voluntary employee beneficiary associations – VEBAs for short. The name might sound obscure. But this workplace arrangement will play a major role in determining whether the U.S. auto industry can sustain itself over the long run.
Back in the days when a presidential candidate hired someone to write a campaign theme song, the result usually was a silly, innocuous ditty whose significance was far more historical than artistic.
The term “black civil-rights leader” has acquired a bad name over the last few decades – and deservedly so.
For almost as long as commercial television has existed, its critics, perhaps themselves eager for air time, have lambasted the medium as cultural corrosion.