books


A customs surprise 1   Recently updated !

Back in June, a friend mentioned interest in a limited-edition book called 8 Missions in Ukraine but said she wasn’t planning to order it. Ukraine is an interest of hers, so I decided to order the book for her from Rehi. It arrived in a few days, and she got the book. Then, just last week, I got an invoice from FedEx for $18.50 in customs fees. I couldn’t figure out what I was being billed for, so I wrote to their dispute address. I got a response a couple of days later with more documents, letting me figure out it was that book purchase.

Just a few problems. Rehi hadn’t told me I was ordering from outside the US or would be subject to customs charges. According to the documentation, it was shipped from Estonia. Second, I thought books weren’t subject to customs. Not long before that, I ordered Walter Moers’ novel Qwert from the UK, and so far no one’s charged me customs for that. Third, $18.50 is over 50% of the price of the book! Are customs fees really that high? That seems exorbitant even for Trump.

I’m trying to get this straightened out. An Internet search shows I’m far from the only person being billed for surprise customs fees, and some of the reports predate last year’s tariff blitz.

Update, July 20:

Just this morning, I got a followup reply from Fedex.

Dear Valued FedEx Customer,

Thank you for contacting FedEx Disputes.

Our records show that the duty amount in question is less than $20.00.

If you wish to proceed with an entry correction, please note this may be subject to a $90-$150 processing fee for correction US Customs & Border Protection if deemed customer caused (No additional fee may apply if it a FedEx/customs cause)

Kindly confirm whether you would like to continue with the correction process under these terms.

Seriously. It could cost me $150 to get a charge of $18.50 removed. I’m better off just refusing to pay.


Sloppy rhetoric kills credibility 5

The ACLU of New Hampshire has taken a position against New Hampshire SB 434, which it characterizes as “a bill to create avenues to ban books in New Hampshire.” As the word “ban” is normally understood in the legal sense, it means to categorically prohibit. A banned book is one that it’s illegal to own or distribute. The bill may be a bad one, but that’s not what it would do.
Bluesky screenshot from ACLU of New Hampshire

Governor Ayotte has vetoed the bill, so the issue is effectively dead for now. An override is possible but unlikely. What I’m writing about here is how the NH ACLU framed the issue.

The bill would have created a mechanism by which parents or guardians can challenge a book that’s available in a public school as “obscene and harmful to minors.” Successfully challenged books would not be “banned in New Hampshire”; anyone could still get them through the usual markets. Arguably it makes it too easy to challenge books based on little or no knowledge of their content, but schools already can and do exclude books. In most cases, it’s just that they can’t get every book that’s in print, but sometimes it’s because the books are badly written garbage. If intentionally excluding a book is “banning,” then every school already “bans” books.

There’s legitimate concern that making challenges easier would lead to the exclusion of books that have real value. But the point is not that schools should indiscriminately carry any and all books, or that any policy that excludes some books “bans” them.

In her veto statement, Ayotte correctly framed the issue as one of policy: “As a parent, I understand and appreciate the concerns parents have about their children being exposed to age-inappropriate or objectionable materials in schools. At the same time, existing New Hampshire law already requires school districts to adopt a policy allowing an exception to specific course material based on a parent’s determination that the material is objectionable.”

In its call for action, the NH ACLU claimed, “The right to free expression includes the freedom to read whatever we choose. Yet our state government is attempting to make it easier to ban books right here in New Hampshire.” You have the right to read whatever you choose, but not the right to get it for free. It isn’t “banning” to say you have to pay for something out of your own pocket.

How schools select books is an important issue. A challenge procedure that encourages moral panics could be very bad, pushing schools into carrying only the safest books. But it’s a policy issue, not a rights issue. The real threats to free expression are growing: intimidation and even arrests of people who criticize officials, groundless lawsuits against news sources backed by threats of executive action, proposals for Internet censorship. If people who are already skeptical see library policies called “book bans,” they won’t pay as much attention to the real dangers to liberty.

There has been real book banning in the United States. The Comstock Act criminalized mailing “obscene” material, such as information on birth control. It’s never been repealed, though court rulings have greatly narrowed it. The owners of a bookstore in San Francisco were arrested and prosecuted for carrying Howl and Other Poems by Allan Ginsberg, eventually winning a landmark case. Such prosecution is rare today, but it could come back.

It’s especially bad when a chapter of the ACLU trivializes the concept. When individuals, even well-known ones, abuse the language, it mostly reflects on them personally. When a civil liberties organization does it, it damages the cause of civil liberties.


Book discussion: How Jesus Became God

Christianity is a big part of our culture, and even non-Christians have to make some sense of it. I like Bart Ehrman’s treatments of Biblical research. He’s skeptical but not belligerent. I’ve previously read his Misquoting Jesus and enjoyed it. How Jesus Became God addresses questions I’ve been curious about: Why do Christians think he was God incarnate? What exactly do they mean by it? The average Christian isn’t sure, and the more you dig into the questions, the weirder it gets.

Ehrman accepts the existence of the historical Jesus but says he never claimed to be divine. His status gradually grew after his death. Jesus’s followers believed he had risen from the dead, so he was the “Son of God” in some sense, at least after his resurrection. By steps which Ehrman traces, the idea expanded. First he gained special status after the resurrection; then he was anointed of God through his ministry, then from his birth, and at last from the beginning of time. Many variations of these views existed side by side, with their advocates calling each other heretics. The Nicean Council tried to standardize the belief, but it wasn’t till years later that Christianity mostly settled down to the currently standard view.

Cover of How Jesus Became GodThis view is that Jesus is God but isn’t God the Father; that God is one but also three; that the Son was begotten of the Father but always existed from the beginning of time. Make sense of that if you can. For most Christians, these details don’t matter, but early Christians thought that if they didn’t get Jesus’s nature exactly right, they might go to Hell for blasphemy. Apparently God is full of mercy but will torture believers forever if they don’t pass a theology quiz.

Ehrman notes that the only Gospel in which Jesus claims to be a divine being is John, which scholars think was written later than the others. If he really made such claims, he notes, it’s strange that Matthew, Mark, and Luke don’t mention them.

In Ehrman’s view, Jesus was an apocalyptic preacher, expecting the world to end soon and be replaced by the Kingdom of God under his leadership. He thought he was a Messiah but not a divine being. There were many others like him. Ehrman thinks the reason Christianity was so successful was that Jesus’s followers had “visions” of him as a resurrected person. He uses the term as a neutral one, not taking a position on whether they were real or not. There comes one of the problems with the book: it promotes a compartmentalized way of thinking. Ehrman refuses to take a stand as a historian on whether the resurrection happened or not.

He writes: “Religious faith and historical knowledge are two different ways of ‘knowing.’ This effectively grants equal validity to both. Elsewhere he claims, “University intellectuals almost never speak of ‘objectivity’ any more, unless they happen to live on the margins of intellectual life.” If objectivity is impossible, if research and bald assertion have equal epistemological status, then anything goes.

Ehrman’s description of the official Christian (or at least Catholic) position on Jesus’s nature makes it sound even crazier than I had thought. He argues convincingly that Jesus probably didn’t have a proper burial but was just thrown on a pile of bodies; that was what the Romans did with crucified people. But if Jesus wasn’t buried in a tomb, there couldn’t have been an empty tomb to find. The whole account unravels, yet Ehrman won’t say that the claims of Jesus’s recognition are groundless fantasy.

These notions aren’t harmless stories. As Ehrman notes, Christian authorities have had many people tortured and executed for heresy. The Jewish people were persecuted for centuries for killing the immortal God. Nonsense should be called out as nonsense when it affects people’s lives.

Even so, How Jesus Became God is very readable, and Ehrman’s explanation of the development of Christian beliefs is fascinating. If that’s a subject that interests you, I think you’ll like the book.


Book discussion: It Can’t Happen Here

Sinclair Lewis’s novel of an American dictatorship, It Can’t Happen Here, seems even more timely today than when it was published in 1935. It tells of the election of Buzz Windrip as president, his seizure of absolute power, and how it affects people.

Cover of It Can't Happen Here by Sinclair LewisWindrip is so Trump-like you might think Lewis had a crystal ball looking into our present. He aims for total control while posturing as an ordinary, unassuming person. His platform is incoherent, laced with bigotry while appealing to the “Forgotten Man.” His Cabinet selections are based on personal loyalty. He has a personal police force, the “Minute Men,” to intimidate his critics. He even has an advisor who is smarter and more ruthless than he is.

What make’s Windrip’s success possible is the complacency and indifference of the American people. As he plainly says he’s going to reduce Congress to an advisory capacity, people think he’s just going to fix the country up. The novel’s main focus isn’t on the centers of power but on Doremus Jessup, the publisher of a small Vermont newspaper who’s trying to make sense of it all. This lets Lewis show how people react to Windrip before and after his takeover. Once he’s in office, he immediately suppresses the legislative and judicial branches, which give him no further trouble.

Lewis had seen what had happened in twentieth-century Russia, Germany, and Italy. He knew the USA wasn’t immune. Reading the novel gives a better understanding of what’s happening — and what could happen — today.


Book discussion: Fighting for the Freedom to Learn

The history of what’s known as “school choice” is more convoluted than I had realized. Fighting for the Freedom to Learn, from the Cato Institute, maps out that history in a set of twelve essays by different authors. Together, they add up to a narrative from the colonial era to modern times in the United States. The book is less polemic than its title may sound, providing a lot of information for anyone interested in the history of American education.

This isn’t an area where I have much knowledge, so I can’t say confidently how accurate it is. I can say that it presents an informational tone, has lots of end notes, and doesn’t say anything that looks obviously suspicious.

Most people today look at advocacy of school choice as an exclusively right-wing issue. (Everything today is a right-wing or left-wing issue.) In the past, though, it’s been complicated. Today we think of public schools as secular institutions, but for much of our history they were tools of nativist Protestant hegemony. I’m old enough to remember being told in school to pray to “Our Father.” In the first half of the nineteenth century,

A crucial factor of the development of the state role in education was an expansion of the concept of the citizen. With increased discussion of alternative forms of political authority, there was a renewed appreciation of Aristotle’s argument that citizens should be shaped by state-directed education to match the form of government under which they would live.

The concern increased along with the growth in Irish immigration, which was mostly Catholic. Senator James Blaine promoted state constitutional amendments, as well as unsuccessfully urging a national one, barring the granting of government funds to religious schools, while insisting that they could “not be construed to prohibit the reading of the Bible in any school or Institution.” By “the Bible,” he meant the King James Bible. The target of the amendments was Catholic schools.

The authors acknowledge that following the Supreme Court’s Brown decision and the Civil Rights Act, many segregationists saw private schools as a way to maintain racial purity, but they insist this is far from the whole story. Public schools with predominantly black student bodies often got a bad deal (and sometimes still do).

Throughout American history, people from all walks of life have sought educational options for a variety of pressing reasons, most of them rooted in freedom. The roots on the left are deep and fascinating. They are found in the centuries-old struggle for educational opportunity in the black experience, in the liberal academics who saw vouchers as a tool in the War on Poverty, in the counterculture dissidents who sparked the “free schools” and homeschooling movements, and even, for 20 years, in the Democratic Party’s national platform.

There’s a lot to learn from this book. I recommend it to people interested in American educational history.