The end to the bail system in California

The New Neo Posted on by

Bail bondsmen in California can’t be too happy about this development:

California will become the first state in the nation to abolish bail for suspects awaiting trial under a sweeping reform bill signed by Gov. Jerry Brown on Tuesday.

An overhaul of the state’s bail system has been in the works for years, and became an inevitability earlier this year when a California appellate court declared the state’s cash bail system unconstitutional. The new law goes into effect in October 2019.

“Today, California reforms its bail system so that rich and poor alike are treated fairly,” Brown said in a statement, moments after signing the California Money Bail Reform Act…

Washington, D.C., already has a cashless bail system. Other states, including New Jersey, have passed laws that reduce their reliance on money bail. And other states are considering making similar changes.

Under the California law those arrested and charged with a crime won’t be putting up money or borrowing it from a bail bond agent to obtain their release. Instead, local courts will decide who to keep in custody and whom to release while they await trial. Those decisions will be based on an algorithm created by the courts in each jurisdiction.

In most nonviolent misdemeanor cases, defendants would be released within 12 hours. In other instances, defendants will be scored on how likely they are to show up for their court date, the seriousness of their crime, and the likelihood of recidivism.

This is not a case of legislation by the judiciary, but it is a case in which legislation was passed as a result of a judicial ruling. Whether California would have passed such a law without the push from the court system is something I don’t know, but at any rate it has happened and the citizens of California will have to deal with it.

It’s not as though the bail system was so great. It did favor people with money, because even though poorer people (or anyone, really) could borrow the money from bail bondsmen, a non-refundable deposit had to be paid up front, and the people most likely to be unable to raise even that were of course the most poverty-stricken.

However, what is going to replace it? A system that gives the courts unprecedented discretion to decide who will remain incarcerated pending trial and who will go free. Are courts really able to forecast “how likely [suspects] are to show up for their court date…and the likelihood of recidivism”? I have grave doubts.

And so does the ACLU:

…[T]he American Civil Liberties Union of California, an original co-sponsor of the bill, pulled its support, arguing that last-minute changes give judges too much discretion in determining under what circumstances people will be released or kept in custody.

“We are concerned that the system that’s being put into place by this bill is too heavily weighted toward detention and does not have sufficient safeguards to ensure that racial justice is provided in the new system,” the ACLU’s Natasha Minsker told NPR…

Did they not think of that before they sponsored the bill?

The ACLU’s concern is that without the bail system, more people will be detained rather than fewer. “Racial justice” is of course an elastic term, particularly when used by the left, but the problem is that people of color commit more crimes and therefore are over-represented in the criminal population no matter how release-before-trial is determined, so what would “racial justice” look like, and can it be implemented without letting violent criminals go free to commit more crimes—crimes whose victims also are highly likely to be other people of color?

It’s one of those “be careful what you wish for” scenarios:

Raj Jayadev, co-founder of advocacy organization Silicon Valley De-Bug, said like the ACLU, his group is a former supporter of the bill. Ultimately, as it is written, he told the Sacramento Bee, the law discriminates against the poor.

“They took our rallying cry of ending money bail and used it against us to further threaten and criminalize and jail our loved ones.”

As for the 7,000 or so bail bondsmen of California, whose industry is now finished, they are on record as planning to sue.

Funny thing, isn’t it, that a law that began with a ruling by judges ends up giving judges far more power than before?

Love is in the air

The New Neo Posted on by

Can it be that one in fifty people have found true love on an airplane?

I find it a bit hard to believe. I’ve struck up a few interesting conversations, but the closest I’ve come to an emotional bond was when I was nineteen years old and flying alone on a milk run type flight in the midwest, in a relatively small propeller-type plane. There were maybe 40 seats or so, the weather was very foggy and quite rough, it was nighttime, and we were supposed to land in Detroit but got diverted to Toledo, Ohio because the Detroit runways were iced up.

Once on the ground in Toledo, we paused for a while, and then the captain announced that we were going to “try for it.” This didn’t sound reassuring to me, so I gathered myself up and told the stewardess that I wanted off. She said that they would accommodate my request, but there was no way to get my luggage off the plane, too.

So I went back to my seat, decided to have a drink (something I just about never do), and gripped the hand of the 50-something guy next to me the whole way.

Maybe that is a kind of love.

Brazil’s Trump?

The New Neo Posted on by

I just read this article about the current frontrunner in the Brazilian presidential elections, a man named Jair Bolsonaro who is described in the article I just linked as “far-right,” and given to racist and misogynistic utterances:

Loathed by much of Brazil for his insults against women and gays, his alleged racism and crude exhortations for “bandits” to be shot down, Bolsonaro has surprised many by becoming a frontrunner.

The only politician currently more popular is the leftist ex-president Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva, a leader who also divides Brazilians — only in the other direction.

Lula would easily win the election, according to polls, but he is in prison for corruption and very unlikely to be allowed on the ballot.

Polarization, anyone?

I had never heard of Bolsonaro until a few minutes ago, but I have become inherently suspicious of accusations like the ones leveled against him by the left and/or the international press. They may indeed be very true, but it’s hard to judge without actually hearing him and seeing him (and understanding Portuguese, probably).

Short of that, I’ll just say that some of his utterances sound awful—for example, that he told a newspaper that one congresswomen was “not worth raping” because “she is very ugly”. But other statements of Bolsonaro’s seem to be more common sense, such as the idea that people should be allowed to defend themselves against crime:

But with Brazilians desperate to ditch the status quo after years of recession, rampant corruption and ever-growing violent crime, his provocative positions make him stand out.

In Madureira, which is surrounded by sometimes almost lawless favelas and where residents live with the constant danger of gunfire, Bolsonaro’s pitch for looser gun control to allow self-defense met with particular approval.

“Guns don’t feed violence, just as flowers don’t bring peace,” Bolsonaro said, responding to critics who say that flooding society with even more guns will only increase the bloodshed.

When the left has been in control for years and it has led to “recession, rampant corruption and ever-growing violent crime,” why wouldn’t a significant number of people want a change? And why wouldn’t they incline towards someone who promises to allow them to defend themselves against a growing number of criminals? “Elites” are fond of telling people what they can and cannot do, but elites are for the most part protected against the disturbing phenomena they have created in a way that the regular populace is not. So why wouldn’t a Trumplike figure have mass appeal? And why would people heed the warnings of their “betters,” who have not seen fit to offer them any other way to deal with myriad problems except to suck it up, and grin and bear it?

It is quite obvious that whatever it was that led to Trump’s appeal in this country, there are similar (although of course not exactly the same) influences leading to the rise of similar (although of course not exactly the same) politicians in different countries. And the powers-that-be in those countries seem similarly surprised at the entire phenomenon.

I certainly don’t know how this will wind up; it could be disastrous in the end. But I wouldn’t trust the MSM to be able to tell me.

Home again!

The New Neo Posted on by

I returned home from Italy late last night.

So what’s on tap for today? Unpacking, laundry, grocery store, blog. Staying inside most of the day is made easier by the fact that the “real feel” weather report is that although it’s “only” in the high 80s at the moment, the “real feel” is 100 humid degrees (that’s once I readjusted the settings, because my computer still seems to want to give me the temps in Centigrade).

My nonstop flight from Rome to Boston on Alitalia was smooth and completely on time, as my flight out to Italy had been. And they even served food, some sort of thing they called lasagna but which consisted mostly of noodles, but was pretty tasty. They also gave us a snack that looked promisingly like it might be an apple turnover. But it turned out to be the worst imitation of a calzone I’ve ever bitten into, made of a WonderBreaddish sealed wrapper surrounding a dollop of tomato sauce that tasted like ketchup.

I can’t complain too much about a flight that gets me (and my luggage) there on time and in one piece, which is by far the most important thing. But the seats had the least leg-and-arm-room of any plane I’ve been on in my life. And I’m a small person; I have no idea how bigger people do it. With the person in front of me reclining somewhat, getting out of my seat to walk around or visit the bathroom was nearly impossible without formidable gymnastics—and I was on the aisle.

Another peculiarity was that towards the back of the plane, in the middle section (the one with four seats across), there was a curtained enclosure that was roughly rectangular in shape. Thick beige curtains hung on all four sides so that it could not be seen into, and I kept forgetting to ask what it was when the harried flight attendents came briefly by. Speculation included a dead body in a coffin, but apparently they get transported in the cargo hold, so it’s a mystery to me. Any pilots out there who might know?

I’ll say more about my Italy sojourn later. For now, though, I’ll just state that I’m very happy to be home. It reminds me of one of those lightish poems they made us memorize in grade school, like this one which has stuck with me like some sort of patriotic glue. Looking up the full version of the poem at that link, I realize that our teacher spared us by leaving out the last two verses. So I’ll just copy the ones I know, and note that this poem would never, never ever, be assigned to memorize today in a New York City public school:

“AMERICA FOR ME”

‘TIS fine to see the Old World, and travel up and down
Among the famous palaces and cities of renown,
To admire the crumbly castles and the statues of the kings,—
But now I think I’ve had enough of antiquated things.

So it’s home again, and home again, America for me!
My heart is turning home again, and there I long to be,
In the land of youth and freedom beyond the ocean bars,
Where the air is full of sunlight and the flag is full of stars!

Oh, London is a man’s town, there’s power in the air;
And Paris is a woman’s town, with flowers in her hair;
And it’s sweet to dream in Venice, and it’s great to study Rome;
But when it comes to living there is no place like home…

Oh, it’s home again, and home again, America for me!
I want a ship that’s westward bound to plough the rolling sea,
To the bléssed Land of Room Enough beyond the ocean bars,
Where the air is full of sunlight and the flag is full of stars

And that’s pretty much the way I felt on returning home. Italy was lovely, the people welcoming, the terrain beautiful, the art and architecture glorious, but it seemed expansive and relaxing to get back home.

[NOTE: By the way, looking up the author of that piece of verse, I see that Henry Van Dyke—who was also a Presbyterian minister and Princeton professor of English literature—was rather prolific as a writer of popular poetry and some stories. He also penned the lyrics to Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy”: “Joyful joyful we adore thee.”]

The Italian war on banisters

The New Neo Posted on by

Italy has a lot of hills and a lot of old buildings built on a grand scale, and it has a great many staircases both inside and outside.

Many of the staircases have old steps that slope downwards, made of slippery material like marble or stone worn smooth. In addition, the depth of the steps is often rather shallow, without enough room for the feet.

Uphill is tiring, and it would be nice to have a banister at times. Downhill is both tiring and somewhat frightening without same banister. And yet Italy is very very banister-challenged.

I don’t know why it’s so, but it’s so. Has anyone else noticed this, or is it just me?

What’s going on with Pope Francis and the sex abuse scandals?

The New Neo Posted on by

I certainly don’t know—even though yesterday I visited the Vatican and did the tour thing. Nary a word was said about the current crisis facing the Pope. It was silence in the Sistine Chapel all the way.

One thing about visiting the Vatican, though, is that it underscores the long history of the Church as well as the tremendous riches it possesses, both in money and art. That place is big, and parts of it reminded me of some strange combination of the Roman Empire and royalty. The influence of the Church has been mighty across time, and it’s still quite large although nothing like it was in the past.

On the current Pope, from a piece by Steven Hayward at Powerline:

Among the reasons I decided against becoming a Catholic is my worry that someday we might get a Pope like . . . Pope Francis. I loved John Paul II and Benedict XVI, but feared that what has come to pass would come to pass. It is bad enough that Francis is a left-wing liberation theologue (liberation theology being merely Marxism with salsa), but there is credible testimony that he has covered up for pedophile priests, bishops, and cardinals…

…We know from many previous proven cases that pedophilia among Catholic clerics took place, and that the Church hierarchy covered it up, stonewalled, and in some cases attempted to declare bankruptcy to avoid civil damage judgments (unsuccessfully in most cases). It should also be noted that sex abuse cases have occurred in Protestant denominations. I know that the Mormon Church has quietly settled a number of sex abuse cases, and cases involving the Boy Scouts continue through the courts, but these cases haven’t received any commensurate media coverage because the media hate the Catholic Church (also the Boy Scouts), which makes their troubles a big story.

In fact, some time in the past I remember reading an article (can’t find the exact piece right now, but this one mentions similar statistics) that stated that other clergy abuse children and/or teenagers with about the same frequency as Catholic priests. So what? All clergy have a higher responsibility than the normal run of people, and we have (or used to have) higher expectations for them, and the Church as an institution has a heavy responsibility too. And some recent allegations regarding a ring of child-abusing priests in Pennsylvania (see this) are shocking on a larger scale than usual.

So, what’s going on with Pope Francis? The story is a convoluted one; please read Hayward’s post as well as this one. The summary version is that there is evidence that Pope Francis protected a particular cleric accused of abusing young seminarians in the Catholic Church. Some of this is based on the following (from Hayward’s article):

Archbishop Carlo Maria Viganò of Ulpiana (a diocese in the Balkans) has released his full testimony about the matter here, in which he declares that “the [sex abuse cover up] corruption has reached the very top of the Church’s hierarchy”—meaning Pope Francis himself.

Vigano’s testimony is quite an extraordinary document; here’s an excerpt:

To restore the beauty of holiness to the face of the Bride of Christ, which is terribly disfigured by so many abominable crimes, and if we truly want to free the Church from the fetid swamp into which she has fallen, we must have the courage to tear down the culture of secrecy and publicly confess the truths we have kept hidden. We must tear down the conspiracy of silence with which bishops and priests have protected themselves at the expense of their faithful, a conspiracy of silence that in the eyes of the world risks making the Church look like a sect, a conspiracy of silence not so dissimilar from the one that prevails in the mafia.

Vigano tries to explain his own silence till now this way

I had always believed and hoped that the hierarchy of the Church could find within itself the spiritual resources and strength to tell the whole truth, to amend and to renew itself. That is why, even though I had repeatedly been asked to do so, I always avoided making statements to the media, even when it would have been my right to do so, in order to defend myself against the calumnies published about me, even by high-ranking prelates of the Roman Curia. But now that the corruption has reached the very top of the Church’s hierarchy, my conscience dictates that I reveal those truths…

It is incendiary stuff.

Vigano’s statement “I had always believed and hoped that the hierarchy of the Church could find within itself the spiritual resources and strength…to amend and to renew itself” strangely parallels the reaction of many in the Church hierarchy towards the offending priests themselves—the idea that spiritual healing and renewal would occur. Many years ago, however, it became clear this wasn’t the way it happens for sex offenders. The overriding motivation of the higher-ups and the coverup seems to have been the desire to protect the Church itself from scandal.

That certainly didn’t work.

And Pope Francis’ response to Vigano? Silence:

The pope refused to address these allegations on Sunday, telling reporters, “I will not say a word about this.” One of his prominent allies in the United States, Cardinal Blase Cupich of Chicago, questioned the veracity of several of Viganò’s claims in a statement. And the pope’s defenders have characterized the letter as a smear against Francis, in part because of Viganò’s past clashes with the pope.

Vigano is conservative; the Pope is not, and they have a history of conflict. That is part of the background to this sordid mess.

US and Mexico trade: this deal could be a big, big deal

The New Neo Posted on by

More work to be done, but this is promising:

But the deal left open the question of whether Canada, the third country in NAFTA, would agree to the changes — and Trump himself said he wanted to throw out the name NAFTA altogether.

“They used to call it NAFTA,” Trump said. “We’re going to call it the United States-Mexico trade agreement. We’re going to get rid of NAFTA because it has a bad connotation.”

US Trade Representative Robert Lighthizer said the agreement was “absolutely terrific” and would modernize a trade deal that had “gotten seriously out of whack.” He said he hoped Congress would approve it with broad bipartisan support.

Does Congress do anything with bipartisan support anymore?

And if this really is successful, will any of Trump’s critics give him credit?

When in Rome

The New Neo Posted on by

I was only in Rome one time before, as a fifteen-year-old traveling on a teen tour that was of the budget variety (we stayed in dorms and hostels, and ate in weird cafeterias), and I guess that coin in Trevi fountain worked because here I am again with considerably more years on me and sleeping in better beds.

But Rome was my favorite place in Italy at the time, and you know what? I still like it a lot. It’s a really big city but doesn’t feel overwhelming, and the presence of all those ruins lends it a special feeling that makes it easy to understand why it’s called The Eternal City. Plus, the absence of skyscrapers lends harmony and tradition to the landscape.

I was looking forward to the food in Italy, but so far it’s been more monotonous than expected. I love pasta and pizza, but there’s only so much pasta and pizza one can eat—and cheese and cold cuts. And yes, I’ve had other dishes, but they’re pretty plain and although fairly tasty, nothing special.

I see almost no variety in the menus no matter where I go. Even the wonderful and ubiquitous gelato—my favorite flavor is hazelnut—loses some of its punch after a while. But if that’s my worst complaint about the food, I’ll not ask you to weep for me.

The heat, on the other hand, is no fun. So, you might ask, why Rome in August, you big dummy? Well, remember that I’m only in Italy in August because of a family event in Tuscany—one of those destination affairs—and I decided to stay in Rome a couple of days before leaving because hey, how can you pass through Rome without stopping and looking around a bit?

Back in the 60s when I was last here it was in August, too, but the heat didn’t get to me as much, and the crowds were almost non-existent. I recall our bus pulling up to the Colosseum, for example, and our little group (which wasn’t so little; there were 200 of us with only two adults—a budget tour, as I said) got out and walked around with almost no one else in sight. Lines? Don’t remember any. Street hawkers of selfie sticks, scarfs with the Colosseum on them, and little laser-lighted thingumbobs? Nary a one to be seen back then, although now you have to run the gauntlet to get anywhere.

But there’s something really really pleasant about it. Maybe it’s the Italian people, who seem genuinely friendly and patient with people like me whose only words of Italian are “grazie” and a few greetings. The natives seem to recognize me as an American even before I open my mouth, which is a bit odd since I happen to look Italian (at least people in the states often think I’m Italian).

I was once told by someone that Americans can be distinguished from others not so much by their clothes—there seems to be an international style (or lack thereof) these days, although most young Italian women are a great deal more chic than I—but by their walk. This person said that Americans walk more boldly, with a sort of stride.

Maybe.

My cab driver asked me what I thought of Trump. My answer was careful; I said I probably like him better than a lot of people who ride in your cab. Trump enters conversation, even here.

#MeToo and the lesbian feminist lit prof

The New Neo Posted on by

From The New Yorker:

Ronell, who is sixty-six, is a literary scholar and philosopher at New York University and, by all accounts, one of the great academic minds of our time. Her accuser is Nimrod Reitman, her former doctoral student, who is thirty-two years her junior. Their relationship, as documented in numerous e-mails, was the subject of an eleven-month university investigation…

The case first came to public attention because of a letter dated May 11th, signed by fifty-one prominent academics, many of them feminist scholars—or, rather, what came to public attention was the draft of a letter, leaked through a philosophy blog. It was a terrible letter…It was based not just on flawed information but on practically no information at all: the university’s investigation of Ronell’s alleged abuse of Reitman was entirely confidential…The letter was designed to impress the university administrators to whom it was addressed, so its arguments stressed Ronell’s fame and influence and focussed on the potential loss to N.Y.U.’s reputation if she were fired. The letter could be read as a cynical project that betrayed not just the ideas that many of the signatories have worked on—ideas that challenge entrenched systems of power—but their very intelligence.

Hypocrisy and stupidity among scholars, among literary scholars, among feminist literary scholars—who woulda thunk it?

On reading the article, I have to say that this may be a case of two bad actors exploiting each other. But it seems clear to me that, as the professor in the equation, it was Ronell who had the much greater burden of responsibility, although both are adults (at least, by their number ages, if not by degree of maturity).

These murky professor-student relationships have long been a staple of academia and were winked at until quite recently. The nature of human beings is such that they will almost undoubtedly continue. It was inevitable that a case would emerge in which the usual PC considerations of “women tell the truth” and “believe the victims” will clash terribly and embarrassingly, and that the #MeToo movement’s answers would be inadequate.

Much of the last part of the article seems to indicate that people on the left and in academia may be belatedly discovering the importance of due process in such cases to protect the accused, who may in fact be innocent. Will wonders never cease?

On the importance of governorships

The New Neo Posted on by

[See ADDENDUM below.]

Think about this for a moment:

With John McCain’s death, the governor of Arizona gets to appoint his successor to the US Senate. The timing of McCain’s death is such that this person will get to serve in the Senate until after the 2020 election.

Right now the composition of the Senate is very close; at the moment it’s 50 Republicans, 47 Democrats and 2 Independents who caucus with the Democrats, and one vacancy (McCain’s seat). VP Pence can break ties, but this is way too close for comfort.

What if the governor of Arizona happened to be a Democrat? You better believe a Democrat would be appointed, and the balance would become exactly even, with Pence needing to be called in constantly. Any defections from the GOP, even of one senator, would gum up the works.

That would mean that all of Trump’s federal judicial appointments would be in jeopardy.

That’s a governor’s potential power on the federal level.

ADDENDUM:

It turns out that in Arizona, the governor must appoint a successor of the same party as the deceased. That doesn’t mean, of course, that a governor can’t appoint a much more moderate member of that party—for example, in this case, there are plenty of Republicans out to thwart Trump’s agenda, and if the governor of Arizona wanted to do so, he could appoint one of them.

But Arizona is somewhat unusual. Most states have no such restrictions on the party of the appointee. See this for a more detailed explanation.

RIP John McCain

The New Neo Posted on by

John McCain has died of brain cancer.

He was a man who lived many lives, and lived them fully. He started out as the son and grandson of four-star admirals, went to the Naval Academy, and was a rebellious young man who was apparently a lot of fun to be around:

He was a friend and informal leader there for many of his classmates, and sometimes stood up for targets of bullying. He also became a lightweight boxer. McCain did well in academic subjects that interested him, such as literature and history, but studied only enough to pass subjects that gave him difficulty, such as mathematics. He came into conflict with higher-ranking personnel and did not always obey the rules, which contributed to a low class rank (894 of 899), despite a high IQ.

Later he spent torturous years as a prisoner of war in Vietnam. You can read the full story in many places, but this is from his Wiki page:

McCain fractured both arms and a leg when he ejected from the aircraft, and nearly drowned after he parachuted into Trúc Bach Lake. Some North Vietnamese pulled him ashore, then others crushed his shoulder with a rifle butt and bayoneted him. McCain was then transported to Hanoi’s main Hoa Lò Prison, nicknamed the “Hanoi Hilton”.

Although McCain was seriously wounded and injured, his captors refused to treat him. They beat and interrogated him to get information, and he was given medical care only when the North Vietnamese discovered that his father was an admiral….

Beginning in August 1968, McCain was subjected to a program of severe torture. He was bound and beaten every two hours; this punishment occurred at the same time that he was suffering from dysentery. Further injuries brought McCain to “the point of suicide,” but his preparations were interrupted by guards. Eventually, McCain made an anti-U.S. propaganda “confession”. He had always felt that his statement was dishonorable, but as he later wrote, “I had learned what we all learned over there: every man has his breaking point. I had reached mine.” Many U.S. POWs were tortured and maltreated in order to extract “confessions” and propaganda statements; virtually all of them eventually yielded something to their captors. McCain received two to three beatings weekly because of his continued refusal to sign additional statements

There’s much more to the story, but suffice to say it was a formative experience. When he returned to the states after five and a half years in captivity, he proceeded to become a US congressman, then senator, and then the nominee of the GOP in 2008, losing to Barack Obama.

A lot of people on the right hated McCain for his lack of conservatism, his “reaching across the aisle,” and his loss in 2008. I would have liked him to have been more conservative in his politics, but I always admired him for his courage as a young man, and thought he had a lot of zest for life and a legendary sense of humor. I voted for him in 2008, and was disappointed in his loss.

RIP, John McCain.

Free climbers [Part II]

The New Neo Posted on by

[Part I here.]

I have come to conceptualize many of the people who are drawn most powerfully (and obsessively) to these extreme activities this way: they don’t want to live without them. And for some of the most extreme practitioners, engaging in these things is the only time they feel alive—during the activity and preparing for it both mentally and physically. Ordinary life holds no special charms for them (or for some, perhaps no charms at all). For such people, ordinary life is barely living (that’s why Wallenda said that life is on the wire and the rest is just waiting). So risking their lives is an easy decision to make, because without these activities they don’t really have lives at all.

Why they are this way I don’t know, but I think they are and for them that’s that. So their calculations make sense, and that’s why the deaths of so many friends cause them grief but do not stop them from engaging in the same activities.

Plus, they increase the risks by small increments over time. They get hooked on the activity itself immediately. But as they pursue it and practice it, they get better and better and soon activities that once seemed very risky seem very basic and simple to them and really aren’t all that risky. And all their friends are doing it; do they even have friends that don’t engage in the same activities?

So over time—and I’m talking years, ordinarily—they incrementally increase the risk factor to get the same high (to coin a phrase) and the same feeling of challenge. Along the way they must conquer any feelings of fear that they have, so they have become skilled at conquering fear and then at some point the usual calculations don’t kick in because by then they are so adept at conquering fear. From Potter again:

Potter was joined by a new companion on recent adventures: his miniature Australian cattle dog, Whisper. Bringing along his pet made him realize the danger of his calling, he said.

“It wasn’t until I started having to think through the likelihood of something happening to Whisper that I finally got it,” Potter told the Denver Post last month. “This is really serious stuff that we do.”

Whisper was not with Potter [when he died].

So perhaps Potter had reached the point where he had trouble assimilating the idea of risk for himself. Only for another being—his dog—could he see it.

Potter also wrote the following after a good friend had died base-jumping, indicating again that it was only through perceiving risks to other people that he could see the sport’s true riskiness:

“Though my body is warm inside the nylon suit I start to shiver and wonder if what we’re doing is right,” Potter wrote in the blog. “Wingsuit BASE-jumping feels safe to me but 25 wingsuit-fliers have lost their lives, this year alone. There must be some flaw in our system, a lethal secret beyond my comprehension.”

People who love these sports love the physical and mental challenges, but what appears to drive them is need. It is defined as a need for freedom, a need to pursue what one loves (from a piece about Mario Richard’s death):

Empinotti added that everyone in the BASE jumping community has been to the funerals of friends who succumbed to the risks of the sport. Richard had no illusions about his chosen activity, she said.

“This is your happiness and you have to pursue happiness and we are the kind of people who are not afraid to pursue happiness, though we know that the cost is high ”” if you get hurt then you get hurt badly, or you die,” she said.

“He wasn’t just out there not caring about his life or his life with his wife. You leave this tsunami behind you when you die, so you need to be aware of that, and he was.”

Puzzling that one over, it seems to me that it contains a contradiction. They know that it’s risky. There is not the slightest room for a mistake, and even the best (and Richard was one of the very best) can make mistakes if they jump enough. But the key to the whole thing is “this is your happiness.” Is it really their only happiness? Is there no other way for them to be happy? How do they define happiness? Does ordinary life not hold joy for them? Or is the joy that comes from free-climbing or base-jumping just so much greater that other joys pall, and they will risk everything—again and again and again—to feel that happiness again?

This poem by Yeats is about something quite different: a death in war. And yet I kept thinking of it as I read these articles and contemplated the state of mind that drives people to free-climb and base-jump. It seems to me that the poem expresses that state of mind perfectly [emphasis mine]:

AN IRISH AIRMAN FORESEES HIS DEATH

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public man, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.