What Do The Fabelmans, Batgirl and Rust Tell Us About the Future of the Movies?

Especially as two of the three films I name in the title of this post have not even been released--one of them, in fact, unlikely to even be completed, let alone see the light of day--while the other movie has actually been very little-seen, it may be best to offer a word or two about each one of them.

The Fabelmans is a drama Steven Spielberg made on the basis of his experiences growing up that, if carrying the highly salable Spielberg name and much loved by the critics, was probably never going to play like Indiana Jones or Jurassic Park, or even Schindler's List or Lincoln. Still, box office-watchers had expected the film to do better than it has. (Its first weekend in wide release saw it take in a mere $3 million, while, even with the bump from its slew of seven Oscar nominations--including Best Picture, Best Director and two for the cast's performances--all it has taken in at the North American box office is a bit under $17 million--less than half the reported production budget of $40 million.)

Batgirl, as the reader has probably guessed, is a Warner Bros. Discovery production starring just that character intended for streaming. The production, which ran into trouble partly on account of the pandemic, and underwent a change of directors, saw its budget swell from $70 million to over $90 million. Subsequently there was a change of leadership at the company, which judged the resulting movie's prospects in either the streaming market or in theaters too poor for the movie to be worth completing, and, according to the prevailing reports, decided to just bury the unfinished movie and take the tax write-off.

Rust is an upcoming Western starring Alec Baldwin (who also has story and producer credits)--and if you have heard about this one it is probably because Baldwin, and the movie's armorer, Hannah Gutierrez-Reed, are up on charges of "involuntary manslaughter" as a result of his having fatally shot someone on the set with a gun he did not know to be loaded.

These are quite different films, with not much in common between them, but individually they have been recognized as each indicative of a significant trend in film production. The Fabelmans has been taken as an indication of the continued decline of the salability of drama as a theatrical experience--people generally opting to watch such movies at home. Batgirl has been an indication of the media companies' drawing back from their earlier splurging on streaming in recognition of its limits as a revenue stream (no substitute for selling $15-$20 tickets in theaters, and indeed unlikely to justify the cost of a mid-to-high-budget production like Batgirl). And Rust, where amid talk of the on-set tragedy one constantly hears reference to extreme low budgets and corner-cutting (which, for his part, actor Michael Shannon has called out as part of a bigger pattern) is indicative of the tendency in financing those films that are not "the biggest."

The result is that, while the pandemic period saw some experimentation with streaming in unprecedented ways--Disney making grade-A blockbusters like Black Widow and Mulan available at home for a surcharge on their opening weekend in theaters--any radical shift in the making and marketing of such content seems to have been made implausible by the results, the studios focusing on those theatrical releases and their as yet irreplaceable $15-20 a ticket revenue stream. These blockbusters (the enduring place of which is demonstrated not just by failures like The Fabelmans but undisputed successes like Spider-Man: No Way Home, Top Gun: Maverick, Avatar: The Way of Water) are ever-more dominated by a very few genres, above all action-adventure (and to a lesser extent, splashy animated features dominated by musical comedy), to the point of everything else not only being crowded off the multiplex screens, but people falling out of the habit of catching them there (arguably, the more easily as the theatrical, giant-screen experience provides less "added value" with other movies than it does the noisome spectacles).

Meanwhile, with producers disabused of their illusions about streaming, everything else is being made more penuriously, not only as Rust was, but such that WBD, and its rivals, would probably not authorize a project like Batgirl today (too costly to be a practical for-streaming project, but still too small a production for theaters, with this logic seemingly confirmed by the bigger budget for a Blue Beetle movie intended for theatrical release), and a movie like The Fabelmans, especially when not made by a Spielberg, have ever less chance of being authorized as a production on such a scale.

In short--giant action movies and cartoons at the theater, and the relegation of pretty much everything else to cut-rate streaming, with very little in between. For the film-maker and the film-lover alike it is not a happy situation--a hardening of the already oppressive constraints on what could be made. However, it seems far better to acknowledge that forthrightly than indulge in the mindless boosterism so tiresomely standard for the entertainment press--the more in as it is really just a confirmation of where most of those with any observational skills at all knew things were going way before the pandemic.

Are Commercials More Annoying Than They Used to Be? Yes, Yes They Are.

A certain sort of person shrugs off other people's observations about the ways in which the world may be changing with the view that everything is always the same, and any perception of change is subjective and meaningless. The bias of contemporary culture toward respect for ideas that look like "eternal verities," the frequency with which people offer superficial observations that are easily debunked, and the "air of superiority to the world at large" with which such statements tend to be made, allows that shrugging banality and cop-out to pass for great wisdom. But all the same, that objective, material world is out there, and we are undeniably part of it and affected by it. Yes, there are times when life probably really is getting harder for most people--and where such evidence goes it is hard to argue with something like life expectancy, with falling life expectancy proof of genuine hardship. The trend of things in the U.S. this past decade, with (according to CDC/World Bank data) male life expectancy (already eroding before the pandemic) fallen over three years in just the 2014 to 2021 period alone (from 76.5 to 73.2 years), and female life expectancy a more modest but still significant two years (from to 81.2 to 79.1). All of this is the more the case as it is virtually undisputed that the deaths lowering that expectancy (the pandemic apart) are "deaths of despair" (alcoholism, drug abuse, suicide, etc.), while the averages conceal significant differences, with the poor suffering more than these figures indicate. Even before the trend had progressed so far the richest 1 percent of men lived 15 years longer than the poorest 1 percent--while the erosion of life expectancy in the years since would seem to have hit the poor harder than the rich (the portion of it related to the pandemic included) . . .

"Wait, wasn't this going to be about commercials?" some readers are doubtless asking.

Yes, in fact it already is. Specifically it seems to me that in a world where people are suffering so much--the actual deaths only the most extreme outcome of the untoward larger trend--even the little things are weighing on us more.

Like the annoyance caused by commercials.

Still, I do think the actual experience of those commercials is relevant. There is how advertisers strive harder and harder to penetrate an ever-more cacophonous media universe to reach a hyper-saturated audience that wants absolutely nothing to do them, and has developed defenses against them. There are such disgusting "innovations" as autoplay for videos no one would choose to play, so that before you have even spotted the video you hear the commercial blaring and are left hurriedly trying to locate it and shut off the distraction so that you can get on with what you came for. There is the way that when we are online going to some website we will be hit in the face with a popup demanding we disable our ad blockers--the element of coercion, the fact of our putting ourselves to the inconvenience of disabling our protections (and then having to enable them again as soon as we leave), acquiescing in their harassing us, the more distasteful. There is their readiness to make their content annoying as the price of keeping us from shutting them out mentally--with one tactic the design of commercials so that after seeing them a hundred times you are still not sure what they are about, or even what they are selling, the approach of catching the viewer's attention to insidiously imprint some subconscious association unbelievably cynical and obnoxious (while in the case of some of us making us wonder just what it was about so that we consciously pay attention, manipulated yet again).

Meanwhile there is the ever-greater attention people are encouraged to devote to "status politics." The result is that the cultural traditionalist will not only be annoyed by what they experience as a ceaseless barrage of "representation," "counter-stereotype" and the like, but the sight of it will be the more charged because of that larger context--every commercial, like everything else, a battle in the culture war. Others who are not averse to such politics may still be annoyed by what they object to not for "wokeness," but simply the "corporate kind." And still others who have no objection to even corporate wokeness will be the more annoyed by the occasions when a commercial is not so "woke." (In short, everyone walks away unhappy, which frankly is the point of elevating such politics.)

One may add that the politics can seem to have had a subtler impact on the commercials. Traditionally commercials relied on the casting of physically attractive persons in them. They relied on an element of glamour and, yes, sex appeal. Humor was important, too. It is not always clear that all this actually helped sell more goods. And often it annoyed as many as it pleased. But for those who were amenable to the content--frequently to the point of, every now and then, actually liking the commercial in question, even when they didn't like commercials generally--it made living in an advertising-soaked media universe easier to take, a single good commercial buying a measure of forgiveness for a lot of bad ones. Now--and I admit this is not the sort of opinion you would see uttered in the mainstream media--in the view of a non-negligible portion of the market, when judged by traditional, conventional criteria, advertising has retreated from the use of attractive models, from glamour, from sex, while altering its use of humor (much of which now seems to revolve around subverting the old expectations by delivering precisely the opposite of what people would have expected--and where they would have preferred it, frankly annoying them rather than making them laugh). For those who feel that way all this removed the sweetener, leaving just the bitter pill that was an unwanted sales pitch being shoved down their throat--while those who saw the now vanished content as objectionable merely saw something objectionable diminished, commercials made less unpleasant than they were before in certain specific ways, which is a different thing from their actually being made pleasant, the bitter pill itself still that. And the result, of course, has been an audience with still more reason to be annoyed by the multimedia onslaught on their senses and their wallets.

The "Other" Stan Lee

When we speak of a writer named Stan Lee people will probably assume one means the Stan Lee associated with Marvel Comics, where he has generally been credited with, along with Jack Kirby, being the driving creative force in the company's "Silver Age" ascendancy, co-creating such icons of the form as the Fantastic Four, Spider-Man, the Incredible Hulk and the X-Men (among many others).

However, it is notable that just as Stan Lee was making comics history another Stan Lee--Stanley R. Lee--was also making history. A "Mad Men"-era adman at the firm of DBB, he wrote the copy for one of the most famous political advertisements in American history, the "Daisy" ad aired during the 1964 presidential election race by Lyndon B. Johnson's campaign, alluding to the cavalier attitude toward nuclear war that Barry Goldwater had displayed in his public statements. (A major theme of that campaign, opponents of Goldwater parodied his campaign jingle "In your heart you know he's right" with "In your guts you know he's nuts!")

As it happened the theme of nuclear war was one that Stan Lee stuck with as, like a great many other ad-men, he turned to publishing fiction. When we think of the '80s--an era in which the Goldwaterite tendency within the Republican Party, defeated in '64, captured the party and increasingly set the tone for American politics, down to this day--we remember it as a militaristic period, with Rambo: First Blood, Part II and Top Gun among its biggest box office hits, and Tom Clancy not only edging out Robert Ludlum to become the leading thriller novelist of the day, but the highest-selling novelist of the decade, period. Still, the decade also saw backlash against that tendency in a powerful anti-nuclear arms race movement that also made itself felt in pop culture in such ways as the miniseries The Day After (watched by an estimated 100 million Americans), and hit films like Wargames and the Strategic Defense Initiative-satirizing Spies Like Us, while if writers like Clancy offered images of a "winnable" World War III in works like Red Storm Rising writers like David Brin in The Postman offered a very contrary view.

This "Stan Lee" made a notable contribution to the stream with his novel Dunn's Conundrum (1985) (published under the name "Stan Lee"), a cleverly satirical "anti-techno-thriller" about an intelligence agency with a very dark and dangerous function in the nuclear arms race and the Cold War confrontation under a government that was clearly completely unhinged to allow such a thing--and the whistleblower intent on exposing and shutting down the operation. Five years later Mr. Lee followed up the book with his second novel, The God Project (1990), a similarly striking satire that, if still imagining the Soviet Union as a going concern in 1997, shifted its attention to a world of ubiquitous small wars and aspirations to making American intervention in them via automation, taken to its imaginative limit (with, to boot, the big secret bound up with a left-wing Christian movement).

So far as I can tell Lee did not publish a third novel before his early passing in 1997--while sadly the books seem to have sunk into obscurity (as the sheer scantiness of the Wikipedia page devoted to Lee reminds one--the single, two-sentence paragraph not quite filling three lines). It is a great shame, especially in an era in which few writers would dare to produce such works, not least for pessimism about a publisher being willing to take them, the niche unfilled--but the books, at least, remain "for your consideration."

H.G. Wells and World War I

As I have remarked time and again H.G. Wells is these days little remembered but as a science fiction novelist--and at that, a producer of that handful of early novels that Hollywood and its foreign counterparts endlessly remake (The Time Machine, The Invisible Man, The Island of Dr. Moreau, The War of the Worlds). His later science fiction works generally go ignored, and still more his realist novels like Tono-Bungay (assailed by critics from Virginia Woolf to Mark Schorer in line with the unfortunate trend of letters over the century). Meanwhile as a historian and social and political thinker of whom George Orwell, even when criticizing him brutally, could say that in the Edwardian era he had seemed an "inspired prophet," such that he "doubt[ed] whether anyone who was writing books between 1900 and 1920, at any rate in the English language, influenced the young so much," it can seem that even less is left of him. (Indeed, it seems all too symbolic that Warehouse 13 recreated the character along lines of post-modernist, status politics-minded wish-fulfillment, while it seems that a great many are salivating at the thought of "canceling" him, and seizing on any excuse to do it.)

All of this has struck me as profoundly unfair, and indicative of profoundly unhealthy tendencies (including a contempt for history, and colossal hypocrisy in some quarters). Still, while much of his accomplishment stands the test of time it is clear that his contributions had their limitations as well. I think of how in works like The War of the Worlds, The War in the Air, The World Set Free, Wells fiercely opposed imperialism, nationalism, militarism and much else associated with them, pointedly warning against the coming of a conflict like the First World War and its effects--but then when that war actually broke out in 1914 propagandized for that cause in works like Italy, France and Britain at War (1916), where he portrays the Allies as fighting to end the old evils, and bring about a better world, in line with the narrative that this was a "war to end war."

Post-war Wells abandoned such conduct, assessing and condemning the conflict in line with his long-established principles, but his war-time propaganda was an undeniable betrayal of his intellectual and political principles. Indeed, one finds him having to reckon with the "extremely belligerent" journalism he produced during the conflict in his Experiment in Autobiography (1934).I In discussing that lapse he acknowledged that "sanguine exhortation . . . swamped [his] warier disposition towards critical analysis and swept [him] along," with his mind not "get[ting] an effective consistent grip upon the war until 1916," and Wells requiring "months of reluctant realization . . . to face the unpalatable truth that this . . . 'war to end war' . . . was in fact no better than a consoling fantasy," that the reality was that the Allies were playing the same dirty old great power game "in pursuance of their established policies, interests, treaties and secret understandings . . . and that under contemporary conditions no other war was possible." Despite that, even in the last year of the war he kept hoping that "indignant commonsense that would sweep not simply the Hohenzollerns but the whole of the current political system" out of existence, to the point that in his journalism he could still spew anti-German propaganda.

And remembering that I find myself remembering, too, the limitations of his vision. He saw rather clearly that the world was a mess, and he rather clearly pictured something better as a necessity, but he was not so strong on how the world could get from one state to the other. Indeed, in The World Set Free, written the very year before World War I's outbreak, he imagined that the leaders of the warring powers themselves, facing the destructiveness of the conflict they had unleashed, would themselves work toward ending the fighting and building that better order.* As he himself realized before the end of the conflict this was not happening, and indeed he looked in other directions--but more pessimistically, and not necessarily convincingly.** Thus was he susceptible to persuasion that the better order to which he looked forward could somehow emerge from the Allied victory--and go on to encourage others in such illusions.

I dare say that others who saw the situation more clearly were less vulnerable on this score (not just a John Maclean, but even a Keir Hardie, from whom the Labour Party's current Keir could not be more different in sensibility and style). However, a remembrance of the matter would not be complete without remembrance of how the war-time atmosphere so "swamped his warier disposition." The climate of a country at war, the anger and fear and hate, the authoritarianism and intolerance, all of which get exploited to the full by those who stand to gain from them, are not conducive to critical thought, or free discussion--and invariably when some measure of the insanity passes many are ashamed of how they acted, little good as their realization does anyone given how readily those who made the mistake the last time usually plunge it into again, certainly for having failed to learn anything from the experience--and one may as well admit it, for lack of character too.

* The war in The World Set Free was a nuclearized conflict, which saw hundreds of cities hit with atomic weapons, and therefore the more severe and frightening--but all the same the actual world war may be taken as showing the falsity of his expectations.
** In The Shape of Things to Come the world leaders fail to stop a war which, while not nuclear, saw aero-chemical attacks on cities that were the interwar period's conflict, after which the war ran its course--to international breakdown (as the war, a less vigorous thing than it might have been as a result of their having already been exhausted, followed by a pandemic readable as a more murderous equivalent of the post-World War I Spanish flu). The result was that here the World State emerged out of post-apocalyptic ruins, built by "practical middle-class types" who realized the old game was up.

What Will TV Be Like in 2026? (And Beyond!)

CNBC recently sat down with a dozen senior figures in the TV industry and asked them a series of questions about just where they think that industry--and the experience it provides the consumer--is going, and published a "sampling" of the answers.

Going by what they published there was no consensus--the guesses these figures offered varying greatly. Candle Media CEO Kevin Mayer, for example, in response to the question of where "legacy TV" would be in three years held it to be in its "death throes"--while the rest were generally less pessimistic, with The Ringer founder Bill Simmons suggesting that instead TV, like radio, will linger on.

Still, it seems possible to distill the assorted answers into the following: regular, legacy TV will still be around, the content it produces from dwindling budgets watched by a dwindling, aging viewership, and kept alive by news and sports (the high fees charged by which are yet another reason why there is less to fund other stuff). It is also likely to have help from its syndication earnings, and the very same streaming which is its rival, as this has, of course, been having its own problems funding content (as those who have seen the drama at Netflix, Disney+, Warner Bros. Discovery, are all aware). Indeed, streaming is likely to need help from legacy TV with content funding, and at the same time to increasingly sell its content to legacy TV, while there is likely to be consolidation both in legacy TV and streaming, with failures and mergers thinning out the ranks; and some aggregation, too, though as Barry Diller put it, the customer getting the convenience of "[o]ne central warehouse who deals with all the players and sends one bill" is unlikely.

The vision seems fairly plausible, but also fairly safe (reflecting, I think, more guarded expectations regarding streaming compared with the bullishness of a couple of years ago when people fancied streaming replacing theaters, etc.). Still, there are a few more exotic predictions in there--among them, the integration of betting into sports viewing (gamblers placing bets through their remotes using voice command), artificial intelligence (AI) facilitating the subbing and dubbing of content to make it easily marketable internationally ("without a third-party dubbing it for you"), and most exotic of all, the viewer getting a measure of editorial control over some of the content (citing Netflix's Kaleidoscope as an example).

What are we to make of these last? I suspect it will take a lot more states legalizing sports betting--and specifically online sports betting--to make the kind of technological set-up that former CNN President Jeff Zucker envisions worthwhile for the relevant businesses (though they may, of course, bet on this happening in short order). I think it will probably be a fair while before AI does much to speed along the subbing/dubbing process--and that if we had AI that could dub shows effectively, we might see AI not only replace a great deal of staff in this area (the dubbing business is not an unimportant source of jobs for actors, writers, directors, etc.), but perhaps more broadly take over the voicing of, for example, animation (which, along with other advances, might enable fans to easily and cheaply create their own). But I think that far from becoming a significant new way to watch customizable narratives (an idea we saw tried before on DVD, where you could include or exclude a few scenes out of the running time) it is likely to remain a gimmick for a very long time to come because that is simply not how storytelling works.

Is the Future Solitary?

From time to time the folks in the news media point out the fact that more people are living alone than before in some fashion or another--or at least, not with a partner (for instance, that more adults of this or that age category are living with their parents instead). In line with its long-established ideological tendency it does not consider the matter very deeply or critically, but it does point it out, and even what it means for individual isolation and its consequences. After all, in a society where for a great many reasons extended family is a faint presence (Edward Luttwak was to comment that "Americans are . . . as poor in their family connections as Afghans or Sudanese are in money"), work is unlikely to provide much in the way of relationships (because it is insecure and tenuous, because organized labor and its associations are so much weaker in the U.S. than elsewhere, because everyone commutes to the job from so far away, etc. ), and the sense of community generally has always been fragile (decades ago a sociologist could observe that we are "bowling alone"), the nuclear family has been critical to any kind of social connectedness. Moving out, setting up a household alone or with another person, and ultimately marrying and starting a family, for all its imperfections (divorce rates are high, even when people don't divorce they become alienated from one another, children move away and don't call, etc.), is pretty much the only thing that provides people with significant social connections for any length of time. (It is even critical to the non-familial connections, because of the prospect of association with other married couples, and parents, and their connections, in a way less accessible to single persons.)

But that, of course, has its economic requirements, especially if one means to do so on the at least "quasi-middle class" terms people have come to expect--and it has become much harder for most to meet those requirements, with the young taking a particularly hard hit.

Most obviously there is the increasingly crushing cost of living relative to income for the majority as college degrees cost more and deliver less, and the burden of student debt and the cost of housing both particularly notorious in the list of problems particularly making life hard for the young, with this going even for those who do as they are told and go for STEM instead of the humanities (as, contrary to the whining of some, more and more have been doing ).

One reflection of the hard times would seem to be that, even with American cities as unwalkable as ever and as ill-provisioned as ever with public transport (even New York's subway system is crumbling), they drive less, which in much of the country means an enormous restriction of their personal mobility, to the point of significantly diminishing any prospect of a social life (and certainly any dating opportunities).

And of course the pandemic has not helped. The media, again in line with its prejudices, lavishes its attention on the "anti-lockdown" and "anti-vaccine" groups and completely ignores the other end of the spectrum here, those who think government has not done enough, that individuals are not doing enough, to control the pandemic--and who as the pandemic keeps raging have changed their habits, perhaps especially to the extent that their particular living standard makes them more vulnerable. (Someone who lives in an apartment building with its narrow hallways and shared utilities, someone who cannot or does not drive and has to ride public transport instead, has had to work much harder to keep themselves safe, if so inclined.) Meanwhile, even those totally indifferent to the problem have seen the escalating price of essentials reduce "real," inflation-adjusted wages as, once more, the price of housing in particular exploded.

Yet alongside all these very material factors which it is scarcely possible to deny (though not for lack of trying on the part of an ever-downward-punching media ever-sneering about "millennials" and out-of-touch billionaires mouthing off about young people's supposed passion for "avocado toast") there are subtler issues. There is, for instance, what it means to not be doing well economically and the ways in which this gets in the way of any attempt to "have a life" materially, but psychologically, in a very unequal, very hierarchical society where the conformist endlessly insist that the world is one big "meritocracy," and on that basis accord themselves carte blanche to be brutal to those who are not doing well. People get what they "deserve," it insists--and those who do not have enough don't deserve more, with no one having to be nice about it, and indeed free to be as nasty about it as possible to the "loser" and the "failure" --while accusing any of these who would object at all to such treatment of having an unwarranted sense of "entitlement," and telling them that any emotional distress they are suffering is nothing more than "self-pity." Enough in itself to make them want to keep to themselves, societies' inequities hit people especially hard in the "mating market," "the marriage market," which in a very important sense live up to the implication of the word "market" with all its brutal connotations--enough so that those whose experiences have been unpleasant can get very impatient indeed of the hypocrisies one is obliged to respect when raising the subject, the supposedly reassuring banalities that can only seem insultingly patronizing to anyone past a certain not-very-great age.

The result is that while marrying and having a family may be the principal alternative to aloneness--but society's pressure on people to do so is not what it once was in an atomized, anonymous urban world, and those who (often as a result of much painful experience) expect to not do well in the market, to not find someone they want to be with, or who really wants to be with them (let alone someone they want to be with who also wants to be with them, and both thinking they might want that for life), find it easier to resist the pressure; to, as Al Bundy would have us do, "Just Say No." And indeed, even were life to get somewhat better for many--the economic and other stresses to be alleviated--I suspect that we would still see more people than before "bowling alone," and in general living alone. Because even if being alone may be the first choice of only a very few, in anything like the situation we have now many more will find that it hurts less than being with others.

Is Blogging Dead? Not Exactly, But . . .

Typing the keywords "Is blogging dead?" into the principal search of engine of the day invariably leads one to a long list of links to sites emphatically answering "No, of course not!" as they proceed to offer glib advice--as they try to sell you something (for instance, one of their blogs).

Thus does it go with today's Internet--ask a question, and get not an answer but a sales pitch--in a veritable monument to what Cory Doctorow so rightly calls the "enshittification" of the Internet.

Naturally, getting somewhere requires us to think more precisely. Clearly people are still writing blogs, and the evidence is that many blogs are still attracting readers, and so in that sense blogging is not dead.

But I do not think that is what most have in mind when they raise the question. People "blog" in many ways, for many reasons. There are blogs operated by major businesses and other institutions, for example, where prominent individuals put out statements of public consequence for a limited expert audience likely to retail what they have to say to a broader public.

However, for the vast majority of the world blogging is nothing like that. What they mean when they speak of blogging is a person who is not connected with a major platform, who is not in their own right famous, setting up such a platform with little or no money spent, no assistance from anyone else, and no prospect of making their blogging a full-time activity, in the reasonable expectation of presenting their words to the world and somehow finding a readership. If they have something that resonates, maybe a big readership. Maybe even going viral!

And what they mean when they ask "Is blogging dead?" is the extent to which such a hope exists.

The boosters on the aforementioned web sites to which the search engines so relentlessly lead us have no interest whatsoever in the question "Is blogging dead?" when asked in that sense

My answer is that, contrary to the impression given by an idiot media ever trafficking in aspirational garbage that if actually followed is apt to be self-destructive, the hope was always extremely slim. The most obvious reason is that the ratio of "producers" of online content to "consumers" has been extremely high from the start, making the scene something like The Hunger Games, times a million--with some much more disadvantaged than others, like those trying to offer something of substance via a medium not particularly well-equipped for its provision. (After all, as one writer who so far as I can tell never even tried to offer anything of substance was well-equipped to explain, "The Internet is a communication tool used the world over where people can come together to bitch about movies and share pornography with one another"--not have intelligent discussions.)

It has only got worse since. Much, much worse. I can think of at least four very well-attested reasons why.

1. The decline of free-range Internet searching. Instead people access the Internet through social media and its associated filters, making "discovery" less likely (even if you get your blog onto social media).

2. The increasingly pay-to-play character of the Internet entailed by the aforementioned "enshittification," where others' search engine optimization, ad-buying and the rest get them ahead in the search rankings at your expense--while any effort you make to get ahead without laying out the cash gets you penalized. (Kind of like how the people who hand out Oscars wanted to punish Andrea Riseborough for having got an Oscar nomination by way of low-budget promotion by people who were actually enthusiastic about her movie and her performance instead of a $30 million studio campaign.)

3. The favoritism search engines show to "authoritative" content in the name of keeping the minds of the masses unsullied by "fake news" and the like. This means that the non-"authoritative"--anyone not connected with a big, big-budget platform--gets pushed down in the search rankings. And "This means you!" (Probably.) Finally, there is

4. The feedback loop that amplifies all of these tendencies. Get demoted in the search rankings for any reason--or more likely still, for many of them--and fewer people will happen upon your blog. This will get you downgraded yet again, making that many fewer people happen on you again. And so on and so forth in a vicious circle toward a readership of exactly . . . one person, yourself.

As if this were not enough there are the other factors that make blogs generally less likely to land an audience--like a discourse adapted to 140 (or is it 280?) characters at a time, max, and people flocking to "vlogs" over blogs because, reinforced by declining literacy levels, vlogs don't require you to "Read stuff." And so on and so forth.

All of this has turned the Hunger Games-times-a-million into, I suspect, something more like the Super Hunger Games-times-a-billion, the "attention economy" become that much more brutal (and punitive), which has made things worse yet again by encouraging lowest common denominator content. Thus does it seem that those who do write independently incline ever more toward the clickbaity--to the gossipy and the confessional, to hot button-pushing, to meaningless lists and worse than meaningless self-help, to forgotten-in-five-minutes ultra-topicality. Meanwhile, if things do indeed still go viral (I am doubtful that they actually do so, but people say it happens nonetheless), it is almost always the case that they are exceedingly stupid things, about which only stupid people would care about.

Like stupid Ben Affleck looking constipated at a stupid awards show, and people turning it into a "meme," and commentators remarking the face in the meme as somehow the very picture of the world's misery in 2023. (A world sinking ever deeper into a polycrisis of economic and ecological collapse, where hunger spreads and pandemic after pandemic rages, and war spreads and rages, with the fighting in Ukraine possibly already escalated into World War III, and the visage of this narcissistic mediocrity whom life has treated obscenely well next to 99.999 percent of the other people on the planet looking slightly less than pleased with life as he sits next to Jennifer Lopez at the damned Grammys is the "mask of unadorned misery?" to these people? Even as irony, which is profoundly overrated, this is too much.)

Looking at such drivel it is very, very, very hard indeed for even someone as critical of the "Idiocracy" view of the world as I am to believe that the world has not already degenerated into Mike Judge's dystopia--the more in as any blogger who is not catering to complete nitwits has to compete with all that. The result is that where their chances of commanding an appreciable audience today are concerned it is not quite absolute zero it is awfully close to it--justifying the view that, for them, blogging, if not dead, may as well be.

Balzac's Theatre of Literature, the Theater of Cinema, and Oscar-Time (A Note on the Andrea Riseborough Affair)

In an earlier comment on Balzac's classic Lost Illusions I mentioned the hard lessons that his protagonist, Lucien du Rubempre, learns in the world of publishing, not least that "[t]here is a world behind the scenes in the theatre of literature. The public in front sees . . . success, and applauds." What that public is generally unaware of are "the preparations, ugly as they always are," like "the claqueurs hired to applaud," which are as necessary as they are ugly. Such preparations as the hiring of claqueurs enlist individuals to "put forth all [their] strength to win laurels for a man" they may well "despise, and maintain, in spite of [themselves] that some second-rate . . . is a genius," often successfully persuading the public that they are such.

By contrast the true genius who ventures into the world without prospect of such aids will never even get that far, never get published at all, never mind be acclaimed as a genius. ("You know nobody; you have access to no newspaper," he is told, so the book of poems he wrote "will remain demurely folded as you hold them now. They will never open out to the sun of publicity in fair fields with broad margins enameled with the florets" that a major publisher readily "scatters with a lavish hand for poets known to fame.")

Remarking these lessons my thought was for how far, far more truthful Balzac's words about publishing in his time and in our own than not only the drivel we see on TV and in film about the business (where writers are always seen signing copies of their book in some bookshop for fawning idiots). Still, I never forgot that Balzac's images of the racket that is the creation of "success" in publishing are drawn from the theater, with what he said of the stage translating easily to the theater of cinema, and I have found myself thinking on all this amid the recent stupid controversy over Andrea Riseborough's nomination for the Academy Award for Best Actress.

Ms. Riseborough's nomination has drawn more than the usual attention to the games that film backers play in getting those little statues from their movies and the people who made them--games extending far beyond even those of Balzac's vile Parisian publishing king Dauriat. Thus does David Mouriquand of Euronews write of "'For Your Consideration' bombardments" which "include sent screeners, interviews, lavish luncheons, place advertisement and direct marketing campaigns, in order to get as many votes as possible" and generally confirm in the process that "[t]he more expensive the campaign, the more chances a film can win a nomination." Indeed, as Variety reported in an item way back in 2019 (how long ago that seems now!) even many years before that the campaigns could run as much as $30 million--"success" here, as in Balzac's publishing world, up for sale to the highest bidder, with a winning bid exceeding by orders of magnitude the production budget of the film that aroused so much controversy, To Leslie (reportedly made for under $1 million).

And indeed it would seem that at least some of the anger is over a low-budget film and a low-budget campaign getting a nomination by going around this vast, crass game. (You would be justified in thinking I'm exaggerating, but one critic actually declares it an injustice that "someone who did everything outside of the system" gets the nomination over those who did--who had elaborately and expensively arranged for them--the "luxury dinners, private academy screenings, meet-and-greets, splashy television spots."*)

The result is that, while I had not even heard of Ms. Riseborough or the film until the nonsensical furor over whether the rules of the cowardly, corrupt and ever less relevant Academy were violated (and the still more nonsensical furor over whether there was an "ethical" failure), it seems to me a good thing that the actress in question is not being deprived of her nomination on these mind-bogglingly hypocritical grounds.

* Yes, I know the critic in question had other things on his mind (allegations of prejudice against the Academy, etc.), but all the same, in making this argument he unavoidably defended the conventional way of pursuing nominations, and that is what matters for the purposes of this discussion.

On the Crime Beat

Matt Taibbi, discussing crime reporting in his book Hate, Inc., remarked that part of the media's strategy for keeping people coming back is letting them feel "superior" to the "vile" people they present. Hence, for example, the sorts of persons one sees in the crime news, especially of the lighter type where the crimes come across as idiotic rather than frightening or disturbing (as with their tales of assorted "Florida men").

The implication of Taibbi's remark is that the media avoids making the reader or viewer--especially the reader or viewer in its target, upper middle class audience (for that is who it pays to pander to, today as in Veblen's time)--feel "inferior" to others.

However, it seems to me that the media is actually rather relentless about making its audience, and not just the working class persons who also consume this garbage, but that more privileged target audience, feel inferior.

It just does it in a different way, for different reasons, than he is concerned with.

Specifically that media is relentless about making its audience feel inferior to the rich and powerful and famous, and to those closest to them; to people who have had the advantages of a privileged upbringing, and the high office to which it easily leads, and who have been invested with "authority" in some area; to, above all, the Chief Executive Officers and the billionaires they hasten to call "geniuses" based on no evidence whatsoever besides their having an impressive-sounding title or (allegedly) lots of money, the way they did with Jeffrey Epstein in a truly characteristic display not only of their propensity to grovel before the elite, but their extreme stupidity.

In short, they make their audience look up to the super-rich power elite, and their courtiers, but look down on working class people--the sense of superiority to the latter not unimportant, but the thing not to be forgotten the affirmation of social hierarchy and its associated value system, which they do ceaselessly and unquestioningly.

Yet faced with this people speak of this as the ""liberal" and even "left" media--proving that they do not even know the meaning of those terms.

What Was '90s Irony Really About?

Not too long ago I remarked that in the '90s there still seemed a certain amount of alertness on the part of society's thinkers about just what condition society was in, and where it was going on--which is to say, in the middle of a nervous breakdown, amid breakdowns of other kinds.

Consider all that was going on. Deindustrialization, the decay of the country's infrastructure and services, the hollowing out of the "middle class." Surging socioeconomic inequality, the polarization and moral panic of "culture war." The growling derangement of a "Greed is good"-"Force works" mentality. The hyper-sensationalization of one crime as idiotic as it was gruesome after another (Amy Fisher! Tonya Harding!), which process included endless made-for-TV movies (Amy Fisher had three all to herself, not counting the three more Saturday Night Live presented us with in a more than usually memorable episode!), and the grist it all offered the mill of an age of "shock TV" and "extreme" everything, and enormous smugness on the part of the edgelords dominating the landscape. (This was the era of Jerry Springer, and Howard Stern, and Quentin Tarantino, and South Park.)

All of this is, of course, far more advanced now, far worse now--and taken quite in stride. But there was less acceptance then. And that seems relevant to the famous '90s irony. Annoying as it often was I wonder now if it was not a sign of society (at least, as represented by some of those who do its thinking for it) being in a healthier condition than it is now, aware of what was going on, and using irony as a coping mechanism--distancing itself from its unfortunate situation, laughing at what was happening to it because it still understood that this was what breakdown looks like, and if it was no great era for valiant efforts to change the world, on some level was still fighting against it.

I have said it before but I will say it again: back then writers could imagine society becoming so sick it would be addicted to reality TV (The Truman Show, EdTV), but reality has gone far, far beyond their imaginings (as all that is evoked by utterance of the name "Kardashian" makes clear, and so too the way people shrugged at the amplification of the concept in The Circle). I think of the underrated sequel to Robocop, which had a bankrupt Detroit being privatized to a corporate goliath whose activities include selling a new model of high-tech policing based on killer robots--a joke then, but in hindsight it stands as prophesy infinitely more accurate than the drivel of the Establishment hacks paraded before us on the nightly news as "experts" (whose misunderstanding of the events of the period and their aftermath was unbelievably risible, and has cost the world dearly).

As all this goes to show, we are past the point at which satire, or even parody, is possible. And I don't think it's a simple caving in to nostalgia to point that out.

The Florida Man Phenomenon: A Note

In the past decade "Florida Man" became a popular Internet meme, derived from just how often news stories detailing comically bizarre incidents perpetrated by individuals who were likely intoxicated or mentally ill begin with the words "A Florida man."

All of this, of course, has had some asking why so many incidents of these types seem to occur in the state. Some have suggested the state's demographic "diversity," others its extreme weather (its seemingly having the "dog days of summer" nearly all year round).

However, the mundane reality is that it is easy to come up with numerous explanations which have nothing to do with any special eccentricity on the part of the state and its inhabitants.

The sheer populousness of the state would quite naturally mean a disproportionate share of eccentricity. With about 22 million inhabitants circa 2023 one would, all other things being equal, expect forty times as many such incidents as would come from, for example, Wyoming--with the fact all the more worth remarking given that the only two states in the Union larger than Florida in population have a pretty strong reputation for eccentricity themselves, namely California and Texas.

Urbanization may matter too--Florida being not just heavily peopled, but highly urbanized. (With over 91 percent of its people living in cities as of 2010, it is perhaps the seventh most urbanized state in the country.) One might add that it is particularly rich in large, high-profile urban areas (the Miami-Fort Lauderdale area, Jacksonville, Tampa-Saint Petersburg, Orlando) where not only are local events likely to get national notice, but which sprawl to such a degree as to make it essentially one giant "megalopolis"--containing 17 million+ of its 22 million people, giving the megalopolis a population larger than is to be seen in any other whole state but California, Texas and New York.

That makes it that much easier for any odd incidents occurring within it (of which, again, there would likely be many given the sheer number of people present) to come to public notice (again, as compared with what may happen in a thinly peopled rural area).

One might add that where comparisons with other states are concerned it may matter that California and Texas are associated with older stereotypes that let news audiences (quite wrongly, though they did it all the same) fit a good many of their incidents into a familiar framework (California's counterculturalism, for example, or Texas' nationalism and ultra-conservatism).

By contrast Florida, long associated simply with retirees and "fun in the sun" has had nothing of the kind, leaving it susceptible to the identification of all this with a vaguer "Floridaness"--which has in itself been powerfully self-reinforcing, with new incidents fit into the increasingly familiar pattern, the more in as the words "a Florida man" became a reliable way of grabbing the attention of the sorts of readers and viewers who eat this kind of thing up.

The Myth of a Country Ever More Awash in Holders of "Useless" Degrees

The accusation that the fault for many a national problem lies in the country's young people eschewing STEM in favor of "soft" and "useless" degrees in the arts, humanities and social sciences whose award is something akin to a scam given that upon graduation the fate of those debt-loaded students will be working behind the counter at Starbucks.

As is generally the case with such situations the advancement of the claim, and the debate it provokes (if one dignifies it with that term), is mostly evidence-free--a matter of spewing one's culture war-soiled prejudices.

The fact by itself ought to make the claim suspect. Admittedly education is an area where the collection of statistical data leaves much to be desired. However, the data that is available suffices to make it quite clear that the image of young people all getting "useless" degrees is profoundly false.

Consider, for instance, the much-maligned degree in English. In 2018-2020 the proportion of bachelor's degrees awarded in that field ran below 2 percent of the total (far, far less than you would guess from the noise)--with this, of course, including all those taking English as part of pre-law study, aspirants to work in advertising, persons planning to teach the English language courses that everyone following any course of study must take in school, etc.. The result is that for every B.A. awarded in English American colleges awarded three degrees in engineering, and another three in computer and information science, and at least that many in the biological and biomedical sciences.

Moreover, the trend has been toward less humanities education, and more STEM education, with English and engineering useful reference points. In the 1970s, the 1980s, the 1990s, it may have been common for bachelor's degrees in English to comprise 4-5 percent of the total. By 2010-2011 they were down to 3 percent, on the way to the current level (a drop of a third in a space of a few years). By contrast, if the output of engineering graduates has been more volatile it seems worth remembering that where in the early twenty-first century they seem to have run 4-5 percent of the total, in 2017-2020 they consistently accounted for over 6 percent of B.A.s (a jump of a third in a similarly short span of a time). More broadly, over that decade the Arts/Humanities/Social Sciences category as I have been able to determine it went from accounting for 39 percent of bachelor's degrees at the start of the 2010-2020 period to 33 percent at its end, while STEM categories, broadly defined, surged from 29 to over 39 percent--the ratio gone from 1.3 Arts/Humanities/Social Sciences bachelor's degrees for every one STEM baccalaureate to nearly the reverse (in, again, the space of a decade).* Defining STEM more narrowly so as to focus on the physical science, computer science, engineering and engineering technology graduates, mathematicians and the like (leaving out such undeniable science workers as those in agriculture and natural resources, the biological and biomedical sciences, the health professionals, etc., in favor of the physical science/production-orientation those who speak of the term usually have in mind) I still get a jump from 12 to 16 percent--and so a robust (if somewhat more modest) measure of absolute and relative growth that has these categories going from producing three graduates for every ten in the Arts/Humanities/Social Sciences category to five in the relevant span of time.**

Indeed, to the extent that the image of the overproduction of "useless" arts, humanities and social science majors has any basis it seems to lie in outdated images of what is actually happening at the schools--for the shift has been extraordinary. This is all the more the case as this proportional shift has occurred not in a context where the number of B.A.s awarded fell but actually rose by a near fifth (from 1.72 to 2.04 million), so that one cannot rationalize it as a matter of people simply dropping out of the "useless" humanities, etc. programs. (The number of engineering majors surged from 76,000 in 2010-2011 to 128,000 in 2019-2020, a 68 percent jump bespeaking a sustained 6 percent a year growth rate; the number of graduates of STEM programs as counted here more broadly from 496,000 to 801,000, an only slightly less impressive rate of growth.) Moreover, for all the complaints about the number of foreign students in such programs. (Even discounting the "temporary visa" category one has a fifty percent jump, evidentiating the position that U.S. citizens really are getting so many more degrees.)

It has also happened in a context where there has been little serious effort to make STEM majors more attractive (e.g. better pay and conditions for workers, or an easing of the cost of education for those who go this track); and where there does not seem to have been much done to better equip students to follow those majors at the K-12 level.

One would think that this big jump in the number of STEM majors would be a national story which would give some solace to the "WE NEED MORE STEM!" crowd. However, because it would offer some solace to them (and for many, many other reasons) it conflicts with the narratives so many want to push--of the humanities as a threat to the country because of intellectuals' perversity; of young people having only themselves to blame for their own problems when they leave college and can't find work commensurate with their level of schooling, and the country's industrial decline being attributable to their fecklessness rather than anyone else's--and so is totally ignored by those whose job it is to "inform" the public.

* In calculating the figure for Arts/Humanities/Social Sciences I counted in, besides the "Visual and Performing Arts," English and foreign languages, literature and linguistics, "Social Science and History," "Liberal Arts and Sciences, General studies, and Humanities," "Philosophy and Religious Studies," "Area, Ethnic, Cultural, Gender, and Group Studies," also "Psychology," "Family and Consumer Sciences/Human Sciences," "Theology and Religious Vocation Programs," "Communication, Journalism, and Related Programs," and "Multi/Interdisciplinary Studies." In calculating the figure for STEM I counted in, besides "Engineering," "Engineering Technologies," "Computer and Information Sciences and Support Services," "Communications Technology," "Architecture and Related Services," "Biological and Biomedical Sciences," "Physical Sciences and Science Technologies" and "Mathematics and Statistics," also "Precision Production," "Agriculture and Natural Resources," "Transportation and Materials Moving," "Health Professions and Related Programs," and "Parks, Recreation, Fitness, Leisure and Kinesiology."
** For the calculation I used the "Engineering," "Engineering Technologies," "Computer and Information Sciences and Support Services," "Communications Technology," "Architecture and Related Services," "Physical Sciences and Science Technologies," "Mathematics and Statistics," "Precision Production," and "Transportation and Materials Moving" categories.

Higher Education in the America of Berzelius Windrip

Back before literature went over to the Counter-Enlightenment mind, body and soul, devoting itself to epistemological nihilism, Medieval misanthropy, sneering irony toward human suffering and social concern, and the sniveling subjectivism of the "writers" who have made of the world of letters a Modernist-postmodernist Wasteland this past century, it was the case that a great writer could be expected to show us something of the world through their art. In early twentieth century America this was still very much the case with greats such as Jack London, Theodore Dreiser, John Steinbeck and, of course, Sinclair Lewis.

In line with that cultural shift what made these writers great has since been held against them, with Lewis no exception. Indeed, that champion of the New Criticism Mark Schorer personally played a significant part in destroying Lewis' reputation (as he did that of H.G. Wells), and I am not sure it ever recovered. Still, Lewis' works did endure, such that the literate (such as exist) are still likely to not be completely confused when they hear of George F. Babbitt, or an Elmer Gantry--and indeed it seems that there has been some revival of interest in one of his later works, It Can't Happen Here.

Still, if the book was more talked about than it had been in a long time I'm not sure how many actually read it--and how many of those were attentive to the bit about what happened to higher education in America under the dictatorship of America's answer to Mussolini and Hitler, Berzelius Windrip. As Lewis wrote, the country got new model universities that, rather than "merely kick[ing] out all treacherous so-called "intellectual" teachers who mulishly declined to teach physics, cookery, and geography according to the principles and facts laid down by the political bureaus," were "free from the very first of any taint of 'intellectualism.'" Thus they virtually annihilated the humanities and sciences (dispensing entirely with ancient languages, ancient history, foreign literature and even pre-1800 English literature excepting Shakespeare and Milton, while in science declaring that "too much and too confusing research had already been done" and need not be bothered with anymore), leaving little but political indoctrination (the one history course retained in the curriculum devoted to "show[ing] that, through the centuries, the key to civilization had been the defense of Anglo-Saxon purity against barbarians"), vocational training ("lakeshore-cottage architecture . . . schnauzer-breeding") and athletics with a growing tilt toward preparation for what no fascist state can live without, war (with "speed contests in infantry drill, aviation, bombing, and operation of tanks, armored cars, and machine guns" counting for academic credit).

Being a satire from the 1930s Lewis' book had its over-the-top and in cases dated touches--but I leave it to you to wonder just how big a stretch this vision is from a great deal of talk about higher education conventionally treated as eminently practical and respectable, and what that says about the sort of media we have.

Should Economics Be Classified as a STEM Subject?

In recent years there has been a big push to have economics classified as a STEM field--and while this issue is not exactly high on the public agenda it does seem worth saying that most of the discussion of the issue is in favor of such a change. And at a glance that may seem natural. After all, economics is supposed to be a science, and as currently taught it is certainly intensively mathematical.

However, the issue is more complex than it looks--because of the ambiguities of the STEM category, and the context in which proponents of the idea are trying to make STEM a part of it.

Just What is STEM Anyway?
In the past I have admitted to a dislike of the term STEM. This was mainly a reaction to its glib slogan-ness, which it seemed to me made it easier for people to push a bunch of simple-minded and harmful attitudes all the more forcefully—in particular the idea of a hierarchy of intellectual endeavor (and the minds which pursue them), and the diversion of attention from the real problems of the country's manufacturing base, and its college graduates, and much, much else associated them with a dismissive "Those lazy, stupid young people are studying the wrong things."

Still, there is also the (totally unsurprising) intellectual haziness behind the glib formulation. STEM awkwardly lumps together Science, Technology, Engineering, Math--which is to say forms of knowledge and activity to be found all across the economy, such that one can define it so broadly as to include virtually everyone. The number of working people who have absolutely nothing to do with any of those fields in their work is not exactly high, and likely falling all the time with anyone at a desk likely to have a computer in front of them--while going much less far one finds blurry boundaries. Consider, for example, the elementary school teacher who performs the important function of imparting the rudiments of math and science to very young people who will include the STEM workers of tomorrow. Consider the doctor who is lengthily trained in the sciences and their application. Certainly they merit acknowledgment as STEM workers--but they are not what people usually think of when (again, glibly) tossing about the term. Instead what they seem to have in mind was physical scientists (physicists, chemists, etc.), engineers, and people with advanced training in allied occupations (mathematics, computers) devoted to the work of high-technology physical production--and STEM made a cause célèbre in the name of expanding the work force for high-technology manufacturing, such that what was wanted was not so much more in the way of pure scientists or mathematicians (certainly there is no shortage of, for example, qualified Ph.d-holding applicants for tenured university positions in those fields) as more of the Technology and Engineering folks for industry.

But of course the fuzziness, and the hype about STEM, STEM, STEM! gave it the status of "cool kids club" and everyone wanted in (the more in as educational institutions craved the government and private sector support--read: money--going or likely to go to STEM, the more so amid the brutal austerity of the general scene), such that the head can spin just trying to keep track with all the initiatives to get this field recognized as STEM, that field recognized as STEM. And economics has been no exception. But if we are to stick with what STEM is really about then, no, economics does not have a claim here. But even if we take the broader view we still find ourselves facing other important questions.

Physics Envy?
Economics as we know it is a product of the Enlightenment and its respect for science--with the same going for its being a specifically mathematical science (where, at least from the standpoint of mainstream, neoclassical economics, Stanley Jevons' work was foundational). Indeed, the aspiration has been reflected in the etymology of the term "economics." Where people previously spoke of "political economy" from the dawn of its neoclassical era on they increasingly cut out the "political"—cut of the idea that economic life and its rules were rooted in specific historical, technological, social, cultural--and political--conditions, and instead presented economic life as "autonomous." Putting it another way it bespoke the claim that what (mainstream) economists taught--above all, the optimality of profit-seeking, property-owning private individuals being left to their own devices as completely as physically and morally possible, with any attempt to alter the direction of economic life from the path such individuals put it on not only the worst of oppression, but an exercise in futility certain to produce catastrophe--was as indifferent to particular social conditions, as true in all times and places, as Newton's laws of motion.

Not everyone agreed with that teaching, of course, and that being the case they could still less agree with the grand claim for their teaching as eternal truth--the insistence that "This is science!" an attempt to rationalize what the rich find convenient and hostility to anything they would find inconvenient, with the pretense to it all being "science" suspect down to the use of the math itself. (Indeed, as economist James K. Galbraith--who, far from being the harshest critic contemporary economics has, and certainly no anti-capitalist-- remarked, "the clumsy algebra of a typical professional economics article" is there "not to clarify, or to charm, but to intimidate," for ideas "that would come across as simpleminded in English can be made 'impressive looking' with a sufficient string of Greek symbols," and any critic of the argument dismissed as simply too obtuse to follow all the math.)

Moreover, it is notable that those calling for economics to be recognized as a STEM field are not making the same demand on behalf of other social sciences--indeed, are often prone to distance economics from those subjects out of which it grew in line with common prejudices. Social science is squishy and useless, they say--in contrast with practical, useful, tough-minded economics. Again, there is a political prejudice here--namely, against what such persons tend to see as the leftishness of the social sciences (the biggest reason of all for their contempt toward it), as against an economics field whose mainstream has overwhelmingly and squarely stood with the right for the last century and a half (by cutting those social sciences out of the picture, by when Keynesianism could not be ignored bastardizing it beyond all recognition, by nurturing the intellectual seeds of and propagandizing for the neoliberal revolution) a significant factor in its comparative respectability.

In considering the drive to get economics recognized as a STEM field one cannot overlook this dimension of the issue--which to those who object with the claims for economics can only seem the more wrong-headed at a moment when the neoliberal project that the economics field has so squarely promoted, enabled, helped operate stands in more discredit than it has been at any point since it became a political force a half century ago.

Why Aren't More Young People Attracted to Study of and Careers in STEM Subjects? A Thought

Before proceeding any further I think it necessary to say that there is a considerable body of literature debunking the myth of a (to use the awkward and fuzzy but nonetheless pervasive term) "STEM" skills shortage, and that I generally agree with the case it makes. (Indeed, far from America's young people determinedly refusing to study STEM my own examination of the recent data shows that even when we cut foreign students in the country on a visa out of the picture American colleges' output of B.A.s in engineering surged by 50 percent in the 2010-2020 period.)

It also seems to me worth saying that the endurance of the myth of a STEM skills shortage is entirely political--a matter of scapegoating the humanities, intellectuals and young people for the country's industrial weakness, and the difficult prospects of college graduates, and that the reason this is so successful is because of the numerous interests that find this convenient, and the deference shown them by a news media that never fails to fulfill its designated role as their (to use the most polite word of which I can think) courtiers.

Still, even if there is no shortage of STEM personnel, it does not seem to me inaccurate to say that young people are less attracted to it than to other subject matter which may be less promising career-wise.

It is virtually certain that many factors are operative here--like the extreme variation in American educational outcomes at the K-12 level that means many never had a shot at the proper foundations (you won't do well in trigonometry if your algebra is shaky), and the snobbery that surrounds the stupid hierarchy some make of intellectual life (the stridency about math being superior to words, science to arts, etc. intimidating many and sending many persons with the required aptitudes in other directions).

But I think one particularly overlooked factor is the absence of something we see in other areas.

Consider, for instance, their study of English. Certainly few seem to be very satisfied with the quality of the education imparted in this area, with some justice. (In a country where, on average, people have two years of college--have gone up to "grade 14"--why do they generally read at an eighth grade level?)

But learning here is not limited to what goes on in the classroom. Consider how--not so very long ago--many people read--for fun.

Not everyone was a reader. (Even before the explosion of electronic home entertainment there were those who preferred sports.) And those who did read did not always read the sort of things their parents and teachers would have liked them to be reading. But they read all the same. In the process they practiced their skills, and enlarged their vocabularies, even when they were only entertaining themselves.

Some people even wrote--for fun. They produced diaries, journals, stories--sometimes even whole novels. (A fifteen year old's first novel is not likely to be a great work of literature--but all the same, novels.) And in the process they worked on the relevant skills yet again.

Many, in fact, enjoyed it so much that they aspired to do this kind of thing for a living--so many that, in spite of what was more often than not the extreme discouragement of the people around them, and the extremely long odds against their ever making a living this way --they put a lot of time and effort into trying to do that. And while this is not a particularly happy part of the story it seems to me that what led up to that did make a difference in the overall level of ability people had, and their willingness to pursue degrees and take up jobs where their English skills are relevant.

There simply was not the same opportunity to amuse themselves with numbers that there was with words; to, in the course of pure recreation, improve their mathematical skills the same way; to exercise their imaginations, and express themselves, and play, with numbers the way they could with words; and to do what all this made possible, discover a passion for the activity. Of course, some fell in love with numbers anyway. But the odds, the chances, were far fewer. Save for those few who were exceptionally susceptible to its attraction, or had special opportunity to get interested (perhaps because they had a knowledgeable parent who knew how to intrigue them, who was able to show them that here, too, there could be imagination and play and much else), math was plain and simple work--something they had to study in a highly structured, punitive, stress-and-fear-filled environment which made many want to have nothing to do with it when they could avoid it. Which diminished the odds of becoming attracted to math yet again.

I do not know that it could necessarily have been any other way. But the fact that it has not been that other way must be accounted a part of the story--while it may factor into how the situation is changing. Again, looking over the B.A.s being rewarded I was struck by how the popularity of English as a college major plummeted in recent years, such that where the allotment of some 50,000 such bachelor's degrees seemed to be the norm in the 1990s and the twenty-first century down to 2013-2014 the figure stood at under 40,000 in 2018-2020 (a fall from the level of 5 percent of the degrees awarded in 1990-1991 to under 2 percent of them in 2019-2010, and perhaps still falling). One can argue that the endless drum-beating on behalf of STEM, STEM, STEM! (and the denigration of the humanities that has gone with it) has factored into their choosing other studies and other careers. However, it may also be no coincidence that the age cohort getting those later degrees grew up in a more fully digital age where there was less and less scope for reading to compete with other entertainments--and the smart phone, in its having everyone taking the whole package of electronic entertainment options everywhere with them, delivered a Mortal Kombat-like finishing blow. Bluntly put, we have fewer English majors because we have fewer people who found that they liked to read--in what can seem another rebuke to that conventional wisdom which, again, is ever conventional, but rarely wise.