Subscribe: Brian Doherty: Reason Magazine articles.
Added By: Feedage Forager Feedage Grade B rated
Language: English
book  court  fed  federal  liberland  libertarian  live  million  money  party  people  political  silk road  year  years 
Rate this Feed
Rate this feedRate this feedRate this feedRate this feedRate this feed
Rate this feed 1 starRate this feed 2 starRate this feed 3 starRate this feed 4 starRate this feed 5 star

Comments (0)

Feed Details and Statistics Feed Statistics
Preview: Brian Doherty: Reason Magazine articles.

Brian Doherty: articles.

Updated: 2017-06-28T00:00:00-04:00


Cassandra of the Crash: An Interview With Former Dallas Fed Researcher Danielle DiMartino Booth


Danielle DiMartino Booth worked for nine eventful years at the Federal Reserve Bank of Dallas from 2006 to 2015 under Chairman and CEO Richard Fisher. Even prior to her Fed stint, as a columnist for the Dallas Morning News, Booth had written that "a huge amount of work will be required in the coming years to address the fallout of the largest financial bubble in history…far beyond the realm of residential real estate." She writes about her experiences in the new book Fed Up: An Insider's Take on Why the Federal Reserve is Bad for America (Portfolio/Penguin). Senior Editor Brian Doherty interviewed Booth by phone shortly after the Fed announced in March its third interest rate target hike since 2006. Q: Is the Fed on track to interest rate sanity now? A: It's too little, too late. [Federal Reserve Chair] Janet Yellen continues to be drawn to her academic roots as a labor economist, and wants to keep rates lower for longer [because she hopes it will] bring marginal workers off the sidelines. But the price is what we are giving up in tomorrow's financial instability. Q: Do you think Fed policy might have influenced the past few years' stock market run-up? A: Might? You can connect the dots. With the lowest interest rates in 5,000 years, you have companies borrowing to buy back shares and have earnings per share go up. It's mathematical. Thank you, Fed! Yet what have they done in creating anything of lasting economic sustained growth? Look at productivity growth, and you'll see it's a whole lot of nothing. I'm not casting stones [at the companies whose stock price is going up]. They are behaving rationally in a world where central bankers are behaving irrationally. Q: Is propping up Wall Street at the expense of Main Street a meaningful way to critique the past decade of Fed policy? A: Check the average yield on a certificate of deposit [and it's clear normal savers, who don't want to play the stock market, are in trouble]. Even if you take the garbled inflation metric the Fed uses that doesn't apply to anything on planet Earth, core CPI [Consumer Price Index, which doesn't count things like energy and food that most Americans spend a lot on], you see Main Street cannot be prudent in its investment decisions. My 70-year-old retired mother asks, "Shouldn't I have something higher yield?" But I say, "Mom, you are 70, you are not getting junk bonds." Q: You make a bit of a joke in your book aimed at Ron Paul and his end/audit-the-Fed movement. A: My issue with Ron Paul is that if you install a political-agenda-free individual in leadership of the Fed, it won't need to be audited and will run itself appropriately. People can be put into the position of leading the Fed who have been on the receiving end of Fed policy [as businesspeople] and don't need it to be a shrine to [John Maynard] Keynes [the British economist associated with the idea that government often should borrow and spend to jumpstart economic growth]. There is not enough diversity in the way economics is approached inside the Fed, too much groupthink and too many academics.…Hire people who can read a balance sheet! [The real reform the Fed needs] is to take away its 1977 dual mandate [to keep both inflation and unemployment low]. Take it back to a single mandate to make the dollar in our wallet buy the same tomorrow as it does today, and call it a day. Q: You're critical of the bailout mentality, but you also think that not bailing out Lehman Brothers may have been a mistake. What can be done about "too big to fail"? A: We need to just take the taxpayer safety net out from underneath risk taking and bring back a two- to three-page [version of] the Glass-Steagall Act, [dictating] not that [a financial institution] shouldn't be able to engage in risky behavior. Just take taxpayer backing from any activity considered to be too risky. Risk takers should always be allowed to fail. This interview has been condensed and edited for style and clarity. [...]

Fire!!: The Zora Neale Hurston Story


(image) In his latest work, cartoonist Peter Bagge (a Reason contributing editor) continues his venture into serious historical biography. The artist followed up his book-length comic about Planned Parenthood founder Margaret Sanger (Woman Rebel) with Fire!! (Drawn & Quarterly). His topic: the Harlem renaissance novelist, playwright, and cultural anthropologist Zora Neale Hurston.

What Bagge seems to love most about Hurston, and gets across ably, is the fierce and ever-blossoming independence that led her, among other things, to celebrate the inherent values of black culture, from American southern life to Haitian voodoo, over white liberal uplifters' attempts to change them.

Fire!! perhaps tries to cover too many incidents over the course of 72 pages, though the copious historical text notes fill in many blanks. Hurston is remembered by many libertarians for being one of the few writers from her milieu to oppose statism and socialism. But Bagge doesn't bog her story down in politics.

Instead, he delivers a tale that's charmingly human (yet also tinged with sadness) about how a strong-willed contrarian's life of freewheeling adventure can lead simultaneously to glory and to deep loneliness.

American Kingpin Treats Ross Ulbricht's Life and Trial Like a Soap Opera


Nick Bilton's American Kingpin tells the story of the hunt for Ross Ulbricht, the man who launched the website Silk Road. Its flaws resemble those of Bilton's previous book, the 2013 bestseller Hatching Twitter, which largely ignored the social media platform's meaning to its users or the world at large, instead dishing on the founders' squabbles over control, credit, and money. While the ostensible topic of American Kingpin is an amazing combination of technologies that produced something new under the sun—a way to buy drugs that tended to be safe from the law as well as from rip-offs and overdoses—Bilton doesn't seriously explore the technical or social side of Silk Road. Nor does he delve much into the legal and ethical issues surrounding the drug war. Instead he tells a lurid cops-and-crooks story. The founder of Silk Road wanted to improve the world by creating an anonymous online space where people who enjoyed mind-altering substances could buy and sell them with no physical risk from each other, connected with a community rating system that added unprecedented—though never perfect—safety and quality control to the drug market. Starting in 2010, Ross Ulbricht worked relentlessly, as his prosecutors would have it, for about three years scaling the site up and keeping it running nearly flawlessly. Throughout this time, he was harassed by hackers, extortionists, and rivals. He is alleged to have earned for that work at least 174,000 bitcoins, whose current value would be over $300 million. The FBI arrested Ulbricht in October 2013, and he is now serving a life sentence with no chance of parole in New York's Metropolitan Correctional Center. (The conviction and sentence are both under appeal, a fact the book never mentions.) Bilton's "narrative non-fiction" approach means no fact is directly sourced in the text (though it's usually easy to discern who told him what). It also entails a boringly relentless quest for novelistic detail that both overburdens the reader and underserves anyone interested in understanding Silk Road. Readers of this book won't find a good explanation of the system whereby the platform protected buyers and sellers by holding their money in a cleverly design escrow system, for example. But they'll get plenty of paragraphs on how certain federal building plazas looked or what was on the radio as a cop drove around on a certain day. Bilton got an old girlfriend of Ulbricht's to spill hours' worth of stories, and he transcribes what feels like nearly every tidbit he gleaned from her; this brings little benefit to any reader's understanding of the Silk Road's workings or meaning. As you might expect from a book that relies heavily on police sources, the vast majority of the narrative pushes the reader toward the police perspective. We get long, paranoid interior monologues from two different cops convinced that the platform presented a danger in some way equivalent to 9/11. Bilton never misses a chance to mention Silk Road gun sales, though guns were available on the site for only a brief time and were even then a tiny portion of its business (which was overwhelmingly, though the book doesn't explain this, devoted to pot, acid, and MDMA). Bilton does mention the libertarian vision that inspired Ulbricht, even name-dropping Murray Rothbard and describing a bewildered cop searching a Barnes & Noble for books on the Mises Institute. But that cop, as Bilton expresses it, sees libertarianism and Austrian economics as nothing but "justifications for doing things...without taking responsibility for how those actions might affect other people." In Bilton's good-guys-and-bad-guys context, Ulbricht's ideas come across as the dorm-room delusions and lame excuses of a villain. Meanwhile, just so you don't miss the point about the evils of drugs, Bilton gives three pages to the death of 16-year-old Preston Bridges in Australia, who consumed a designer drug purchased on Silk Road, took it, flipped out, and leapt off a balcony to his death. [...]

Seasteading in Paradise


For nearly a decade, the Seasteading Institute has been working to create autonomous floating communities on the ocean, where settlers can make their own rules de novo, unbound by the principalities and powers based on land. Founded by Google software engineer Patri Friedman—grandson of the libertarian economist Milton Friedman and son of the anarchist legal theorist and economist David Friedman—it has weathered its share of thin years, previously dwindling to a two-staffer, no-office operation. But on January 13 in San Francisco's Infinity Club Lounge, institute chief Randolph Hencken signed a memorandum of understanding with a new partner, one Jean-Christophe Bouissou**, and put the construction of an actual seastead onto the cusp of reality. See also: 'To Live and Let Live' - The micronation of Liberland turns 2 Bouissou is no buccaneer or eccentric billionaire. He is minister of housing for French Polynesia, a collection of 118 islands and atolls in the South Pacific, technically an "overseas collectivity" of France. Seasteading will not begin on the government-free open seas after all. If Hencken, Bouissou, and their respective colleagues have their way, the first seastead will float next year in a lagoon within French Polynesian waters. As Hencken prepared to sign the agreement, he declared that this shift from a freewheeling vision of a libertarian society in the open ocean to a more tightly managed experiment in an existing nation's territory was probably inevitable. "We are not turning our backs on who we are," he said just before the ceremony, "but we are recognizing that when we made the choice in 2012 that we weren't going to the open ocean—we didn't have a billion dollars to build a floating city—that we'd have to engage in the politics of nations. It's challenging, but that's the reality of the human world, right?" French Polynesian President Edouard Fritch was supposed to be there, but he had to stay behind to tend to some minor upheaval in his cabinet. (Bouissou informed the audience that he got on the plane in Tahiti as minister of tourism but landed in California as minister of housing.) But none of this was a big deal, Fritch assured the crowd via Skype. Bouissou was there representing the government's intention that seasteading will happen in French Polynesia. The agreement commits the parties to "studies addressing the technical and legal feasibility of the project in French Polynesia" and to preparing a "special governing framework allowing the creation of the Floating Island Project located in an innovative special economic zone." Since the Seasteading Institute is an educational nonprofit, the signing ceremony was also the public debut of a for-profit spinoff called Blue Frontiers, which intends to build, develop, and manage the first Polynesian seastead. Considering all that can go wrong when trying to craft a bold plan to save the planet from its political, economic, and environmental troubles, the path to the agreement was surprisingly short and untroubled. The Polynesian Fixer Marc Collins is kind of a big deal. Around Tahiti and its sister islands, he knows people who know people, and he knows all the people they know. A former Silicon Valley resident himself, Collins grew up in Mexico and made his bones in French Polynesia as a retail jewelry king and an internet service provider telecom magnate. He also worked in the Polynesian government for two years as minister of tourism**. He claims to have once been the only person on the islands with a paper subscription to Wired magazine. So Collins was hip to the scene that produced the seasteaders—he'd been reading about them since 2008. He noticed a 2015 article on Wired's website that said the seasteaders were ready to downsize their vision from a deep-sea project to a "floating city" in shallow offshore water. As a result, they'd need to collaborate with a host nation. So Collins contacted Hencken via LinkedIn and began cultivating relationsh[...]

'To Live and Let Live'


Thanks to a long-standing border dispute between two parts of the former Yugoslavia, there was a little slice of unclaimed land on the west bank of the Danube River. Croatia would prefer recognizing a border more closely corresponding to an older flow of the Danube, while Serbia is happy with the current Danube-defined border. That leaves a teardrop-shaped piece of land about 7 square kilometers on the Croatian side that neither country wants to claim. In April 2015, Vit Jedlicka, a Czech activist and market analyst, declared the disputed turf terra nullius and established his own country there: Liberland. In contrast with the gradualist approach taken by seasteaders and charter city founders, Liberlanders essentially came at Croatia "with both middle fingers up right away and just talked to the press," says Joe McKinney of the Startup Societies Foundation. Since then, Jedlicka has been traveling the globe flacking for a nation that will govern according to the principles of Bastiat, Mises, and Rothbard. Liberland's motto is "to live and let live." Its constitution vows, "No law shall prohibit any act or omission which does not directly harm any other Person or cause unwarranted suffering to an animal capable of conscious behaviour or harm to the environment beyond the boundaries of one's property." It also declares that the tiny nation will never go into debt, raise an army, or start a war. No one lives in Liberland. For one thing, Croatian law enforcement tends to arrest anyone who tries to enter. For another, there's nowhere to live. The microstate boasts a single structure: an old logging storage house without water or power. The ramshackle building was pictured on Liberland's website in late February festooned with the country's yellow and black flag. It's unclear how the flag got there. Neither Jedlicka nor others associated with Liberland will say, but Liberland's website insists this flag raising marks "their permanent presence in the area." What's more, "the Liberland government announced a plan to restore the building on its territory" and, shades of seasteading, "to begin construction of a floating Liberland community on the Danube River." Jedlicka and his people are holding an event in April to celebrate the second anniversary of Liberland's founding, but the website advertising the festival admits that "we are unable to stop at Liberland due to current regulations in force on the River Danube." Technically, Liberland has around 300 citizens (all living abroad, obviously), but Jedlicka boasts over 430,000 online applicants for citizenship, a national budget so far of over $200,000, and even a hint of an "in" with the Trump administration. Jedlicka came to America for the inauguration and told The Washington Post of "friends of friends" connections, saying that "Trump being in place definitely opened new doors" for Liberland. Jedlicka seems untroubled by the lack of resident citizens. "We can achieve 100 percent of our goals even without having full access to our territory," he says. The current model relies on "e-citizenship" and registering businesses—though the benefits of such registration are not yet clear. The latest Liberland brochure does promise a "tax advantage" and speculates that Liberland's digital currency, the "Merit," will become "another global alternative digital currency." And Jedlicka insisted in a March email that "companies operate under Liberland voluntary tax and regulations.…We are also talking about institutions like Liberland Red Cross, Liberland Settlement association or Bank of Liberland.…We are working on state of art company registry and we will as first jurisdiction offer companies to issue their shares on blockchain." What the state lacks is recognition from any other countries. Does that matter? According to a Chicago Journal of International Law article about Jedlicka's claims, a truly objective legal definition of nationhood can't require outside re[...]

We Told You So


Like most comics devotees of the late 20th century, Gary Groth—co-founder of America's leading publisher of high-quality comics, Fantagraphics Books—started off as a superhero obsessive. But Groth grew out of that passion, and he loved a good fight. So in the mid-'70s he started slamming his aesthetic foes and advocating for smarter, more literary, more adult comics in his pugnacious and brilliant magazine The Comics Journal. By the early 1980s, he was seeking out and publishing such comics despite the total lack of a demonstrated market for such things.

Over the next four decades, Fantagraphics launched or elevated the careers of many of modern comics' most vital and brilliant creators, including Jaime Hernandez, Gilbert Hernandez, Chris Ware, Daniel Clowes, Joe Sacco, Carol Tyler, and Reason's own Peter Bagge. Publications of Robert Crumb, Charles Schulz, and others have established the publishing house as the medium's top archivist and curator as well.

We Told You So: Comics As Art is an excellent oral history of Fantagraphics by Tom Spurgeon and Michael Dean. Histories of artsy young rebels changing the world are too often self-indulgent and unconvincing, or vaguely tawdy and juvenile. We Told You So, though, makes a compelling case for the revolutionary nature of the undertaking while being pleasingly self-aware about the childish absurdity of the flawed humans involved.

Fantagraphics, a portmanteau of fantasy and graphics, turned out to be a marvelously apt name. The notion of comics as a rich, vast literary art was pretty much just Gary Groth's fantasy. Forty years down the line, it's wonderfully real.

Revisiting Restrictions on the Right to Bear Arms


You can't legally own a gun if you have been convicted of most felonies with a potential sentence of more than one year of imprisonment (or, if it's a misdemeanor, more than two years). Federal law, at 922(g)(1) of the U.S. Code, makes that clear. But some offenders who were banned from possessing firearms have succeeded in getting lower courts and a federal appeals court to agree that the statute can, in certain applications, violate people's Second Amendment rights.

In January, the federal government applied for certiorari to the Supreme Court in Binderup v. Holder, which consolidates two such cases.

One of the plaintiffs is Daniel Binderup, who had a consensual but illegal sexual relationship with a 17-year-old in 1998. He was sentenced to probation for three years under a misdemeanor conviction. The federal government believes this bars him from legal gun ownership forever, as it was a crime for which he could have been (though he wasn't) given over two years' incarceration.

The other plaintiff is Julio Suarez, who was found with a gun in his car in Maryland without a carry license. He was given 180 days of prison in a suspended sentence, plus a fine and probation.

Attorney Alan Gura, who won two previous Supreme Court cases for Second Amendment rights—Heller in 2008 and McDonald in 2010—is one of Binderup's lawyers. At issue, he says, is whether 922(g)(1) should cover people whose crimes present no evidence of danger to the public, now that gun ownership has been recognized by the Heller decision as an individual constitutional right.

One of the court filings from Binderup's legal team sums up the relevant issue well: "not one word of the Government's brief discusses the critical issue in this as-applied Second Amendment challenge: whether Daniel Binderup's possession of firearms would be in any way dangerous."

In a complicated September 2016 decision, an en banc panel of the 3rd Circuit Court of Appeals declared that Binderup's and Suarez's convictions "were not serious enough to strip them of their Second Amendment rights." Reasons given included that the offenses were nonviolent and earned light sentences.

The government hopes the Supreme Court will reconsider, and its certiorari petition spells out what's at stake from its perspective: "Section 922(g)(1) is by far the most frequently applied…firearms disqualification, forming the basis for thousands of criminal prosecutions and tens of thousands of firearm-purchase denials each year."

Gura already has other 922(g)(1) challenges in process and indicates many more could be waiting in the wings.



(image) Robert Greenfield's Bear: The Life and Times of Augustus Owsley Stanley III (Thomas Dunne) is the first biography of America's most legendary LSD manufacturer and sound engineer for the Grateful Dead, occupations melded in mutual desire to blow minds. Grandson of a Kentucky governor, the outlaw chemist was eventually caught. But given the enormous extent of his illegal warping of the consciousness of the '60s generation—likely 10 million doses' worth—it's almost a miracle that he served only three years in prison for his crimes against the "establishment" in all its manifestations, political, intellectual, and spiritual.

Did the Libertarian Party Blow It in 2016?


Objectively speaking, 2016 was the Libertarian Party's best year ever. It was also a savage disappointment. On the positive side, the presidential ticket of two former Republican governors, Gary Johnson of New Mexico and William Weld of Massachusetts, received more than 4.46 million votes, amounting (as of press time) to 3.28 percent of the national haul, smashing the party's previous highs of 1.28 million and 1.06 percent, respectively. The L.P. nominee was on the ballot in all 50 states and the District of Columbia for the first time since 2000, and he outperformed the Green Party's Jill Stein in each one. "We are the only political party in the country that's growing," Libertarian Party National Chair Nicholas Sarwark crowed the morning after the election. "We've tripled our vote totals [over] 2012.…We control a bloc of the electorate that covers the spread in almost all if not all of the battleground states. We've beaten the other third every single state." For the first time, the L.P. now has more than a half-million registered voters. The Johnson/Weld campaign raised around $12 million, according to internal accounts (the final Federal Election Commission reports have not yet been filed). That destroys the previous record of $3.5 million, set in 1980 (and $2.1 million of the 1980 total came from billionaire vice-presidential candidate David Koch). The national party pulled in nearly $3 million in additional donations this year, too. U.S. Senate candidate Joe Miller of Alaska received 30 percent of the vote in his race, the highest such total in party history—especially impressive as he had both a Republican and a Democratic opponent. (Generally, if an L.P. candidate for any legislative seat gets double-digit percentages, it's because one of the major parties sat the race out.) GOP defections in 2016 also gave the L.P. sitting state legislators in Nevada, Nebraska, and Utah. All told, the party has come a long way since its founding in 1971, when a small gang of dreamers hoped it would become a vehicle to get press attention for libertarian ideas. Still, measured against expectations—let alone the basic standard that successful political parties must win elections—the Libertarian Party had its most disappointing year ever. "We wanted to win, and we didn't achieve that goal," Johnson's campaign manager, Ron Nielson, acknowledged shortly after the election. "We were hoping to get into the presidential debate, and no matter how hard we tried we could not achieve that goal. After that our goal was to get 5 percent, and for the last 45 days we pushed toward that effort, which was entirely achievable but for the fact that the election came down to such a tight margin between Clinton and Trump. That put pressure on third-party support, and a lot of Johnson support moved in the end toward Trump, or possibly chose not to participate." While 3.28 percent marked an all-time high for the party, it was also just a third of the campaign's highest polling average, which came in late July. All summer long Johnson had avoided the typical third-party fade, with such forecasters as FiveThirtyEight projecting a finish higher than 7 percent for months on end. But the plates came crashing down over the final eight weeks, prompting much anguish and fingerpointing among activists and supporters. "The Libertarian Party," wrote 2016 L.P. presidential runner-up Austin Petersen on Election Day, "has blown a chance that it may never have again in my lifetime." There was plenty of bad news to go along with Johnson's late collapse. One of the party's sitting state legislators, Utah Sen. Mark Madsen, did not run for re-election and will be gone in January. A second, Nevada Assemblyman John Moore, suffered what might be a historic mangling for an incumbent, finishing a distant third place with just 7 perce[...]

Good Vibrations


(image) Mike Love, the nasal singer and frequent lyricist for the Beach Boys, is one of the most hated men in rock. The early reaction to his memoir Good Vibrations (Blue Rider) suggests that the book isn't going to change that. Love and his cousin Brian Wilson, the Beach Boys' main composer and vocal arranger, are painted in fan history as, respectively, the Antichrist and the man who walks on water.

Wilson represents sensitivity and artistic exploration in this saga; Love, brash showmanship and a bourgeois approach to entertainment as a business. It took both men to create and maintain The Beach Boys as America's longest-lasting and still quite successful band; Love is proud that 2015, 53 years into their career, saw the largest number of Beach Boys performances ever.

Love admits some of the more far-out music his cousin made didn't necessarily thrill him, a sin to the Wilson fanatics who see him as a Tinker Bell who must be believed in to thrive. But reading the story of Love being cheated over writing credits and suffering bandmates (and cousins) who indulged in debilitating drug abuse and descended into mental illness, an honest reader will see that solid dependability has its own merits, in art and life.

California Carry


With the help of the California Rifle and Pistol Association, four people are suing the state's attorney general and Los Angeles County's sheriff over a set of restrictive policies that combine, they argue, to rob them of their Second Amendment rights.

Flanagan v. Harris challenges the fact that California heavily limits the open carry of firearms, and L.A. County makes concealed carry very difficult as well. Together, the suit states, those state and local policies mean "the vast majority of the population…cannot obtain a license to publicly carry a firearm."

A recent federal case in the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals, Peruta, upheld restrictions similar to Los Angeles' and concluded that concealed carry was definitely not protected by the Second Amendment, in that court's opinion. The precedent, which covers California, will likely make winning Flanagan a lot harder, though the Peruta decision acknowledges that the open-carry question remains undecided.

Flanagan's plaintiffs hope to establish that the Constitution does protect a right to carry a gun for self-defense in public in some manner, whether concealed or open. Lower courts have offered contradictory answers to that question, making this ripe for eventually appearing before the Supreme Court.

American Communism


We Are As Gods: Back to the Land in the 1970s on the Quest for a New America, by Kate Daloz, PublicAffairs, 355 pages, $26.99 In 1971, a young man named Bernie Sanders visited Myrtle Hill Farm, a rural Vermont commune for disaffected white middle-class kids. Its residents' back-to-the-land lifestyle was meant to free them from a culture that had come, in the midst of war and racial unrest, to seem "an unstoppable torrent of death and destruction, all for no reason." Myrtle Hill had an all-are-welcome policy—for three days. Then the core owners would decide by consensus whether you were cool to hang around. Sanders' tendency to just sit around talking politics and avoid actual physical labor got him the boot. That's just one of the stories in Kate Daloz's We Are As Gods, a loving but honest history of hippie communes in Vermont in the 1970s. Daloz has the journalist's gift for getting people to explain themselves, the historian's ability to explain the context in which they made their choices, and the novelist's power for revealing character through action, plot, and the perfectly chosen detail. While she focuses on a small group of communal and quasi-communal rural homesteads within a few miles of each other in Vermont—one of which housed her parents, Judy and Larry—Daloz explains that her characters represented a large and unprecedented cultural and demographic shift. The decision to build a saner, purer way of life away from urban civilization and private property was "being made almost simultaneously by thousands of other young people all across the country at the same moment for almost the same reason," she writes. No other point in American history, Daloz says, saw so much deurbanization, with as many as a million young Americans going back to the land. Almost all of them, she notes, were from middle-class white backgrounds; most were well-educated, with no fear that they couldn't make their way quite well in normal society. This gave them a safety net "that made such radical choices possible." Their motive was liberty—the freedom to control their own environment, education, technology, diet, productivity. (To the significant number of draft dodgers and teen runaways involved, their very liberty to live free of violence was at stake.) But though this is not Daloz's central point, her fine-grained narrative shows that being free of the technologies and wealth thrown off by the national and international division of labor carried with it its own tyranny. Many of these young communalists believed their world was doomed, whether through nuclear war, fascistic repression, or ecological megadeath. Learning how to live off the land, then, was about survival itself, not just ideological self-satisfaction. One of this book's main characters was driven to rural Vermont by the realization that if the industrial civilization that was all he knew broke down, he'd "just fucking die. You'd just stand there and die." He felt it his duty to thrive off only the soil, water, and animals on his property with techniques that didn't require energy or fuel from the outside world. But as everyone in We Are As Gods soon learned, a small group of human beings pitted against nature were at a far greater disadvantage than they dreamed. Despite the valorization of Stewart Brand's Whole Earth Catalog and its ethos of learning to master the tools and technologies of self-sufficient living, far too many people attracted to the movement knew—as Robert Houriet, one of the original chroniclers of the scene, put it—all about the Tarot but nothing about how to fix a pump. Myrtle Hill outlasted the vast majority of similar communes that arose at the same time. Its rise and fall, from 1970 to the mid-'80s, is the spine of the book's n[...]

Bitcoin Vindication


In 2014, the Internal Revenue Service declared that bitcoins are property but not money. Florida Circuit Court Judge Teresa Pooler decided in July that if that's so, then Michell Espinoza can't be guilty of acting as an unlicensed money transmitter or money launderer for selling bitcoins to a cop.

A police officer exchanged cash for the cryptocurrency with Espinoza on multiple occasions, at one point saying he would buy credit card numbers online with it. Espinoza was eventually arrested for money laundering and for unlawfully engaging in business as a money transmitter. But since he did not receive the cash "for the purpose of transmitting same to a third party," Judge Pooler wrote, he is not a "money transmitter"—just a guy selling a legal commodity.

"The Florida Legislature may choose," Pooler wrote, "to adopt statutes regulating virtual currency in the future." But for now, "attempting to fit the sale of Bitcoin into a statutory scheme regulating money services businesses" won't fly. Nor did hearing the cop say he would use bitcoin to do something illegal make Espinoza a "money launderer."

Brian Bieber, a Miami lawyer who wrote an amicus brief in the case, says the decision is "definitely a big deal" in the bitcoin world. If the cryptocurrency were "considered money, it opens it up to other potential restrictive regulations and can increase the probability of hampering the free trade that bitcoin users now enjoy."

High Frontiers in Science


(image) The counterculture of the 1960s and '70s summoned by the word groovy is saddled with a reputation as overly mystical and viewing science with suspicion. A wonderfully varied new anthology—Groovy Science (University of Chicago Press), edited by David Kaiser and W. Patrick McCray—demonstrates that hippies in fact brought science and technology to bear in their own ways, for their own goals.

Some of those ways are still mere curiosities, like physician John Lilly's attempts to talk to high dolphins and psychiatrist Immanuel Velikovsky's hugely popular attempts to rewrite standard history and astronomy to justify the Bible.

But some efforts inspired by the quest for individual or communal grooviness, from surfboard production to artisanal cheese to ecologically minded industrial design to home birthing, used personalized knowledge and technology to make the world better, or at least more interesting, for us all.

No Pot Campaigning


It has been legal to run a medical marijuana business in Illinois since the start of 2014. But it has also been illegal for businesses in the industry to donate to a political campaign in the state, or for candidates to accept such a donation, either directly or via a Political Action Committee.

Two Libertarian Party politicians, Claire Ball and Scott Schluter, are now suing to challenge this law. As of press time they were waiting for a judge in the U.S. District Court for the Northern District of Illinois to decide on their motion for summary judgment.

In that motion, they point out that the law bans "one class of political speakers…from engaging in the same sort of political association that is typically recognized and free from abridgement." This is supposed to combat corruption, but Ball and Schluter argue that it instead "silences emerging voices and hinders competitive campaigns by unorthodox candidates. Under the First Amendment, this cannot stand."

Individuals involved in such businesses can still donate under the Illinois law, but the plaintiffs argue that per the 2010 Supreme Court ruling in Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission, a corporation or business "enjoys its own ability to engage in political free speech."

Democratic State Rep. Lou Lang, a lead sponsor of the bill, admitted to WSIU-FM last year that "conservative" and "hesitant" colleagues were supposed to be appeased into supporting medical pot by this First Amendment–violating rule.