Herman Cain on America's racial progress

From the Washington Post's profile on Herman Cain:

In his book, Cain writes that, as a child, he was forced to sit in the “colored” section of the bus, and while in graduate school in Indiana he found it so difficult to find a barber who would cut black hair that he bought clippers and cut his own — a practice he holds onto today.

He tells of a time when he and his brother sneaked a taste of the “whites only” water fountain. “Then we looked at each other and said, ‘You know what? The ‘whites only’ water tastes just the same as the ‘coloreds’ does!’ ”

Asked recently on Fox News why he’s not more bitter about his treatment under segregation, Cain answered with an optimistic spin.

“I’m not angry with America, because America has something that a lot of other countries don’t have: The ability to change,” he responded. “That’s the greatness of this country. We have always had struggles throughout our short 235-year history. Why be bitter? Why not embrace the change, especially since it’s positive?”

(Photo by Eric Thayer/Getty.)

Why do supermarkets sprinkle the fresh vegetables with water?

You're being primed (via):

Let's pay a visit to Whole Foods' splendid Columbus Circle store in New York City. As you descend the escalator you enter the realm of a freshly cut flowers. These are what advertisers call "symbolics"--unconscious suggestions. In this case, letting us know that what's before us is bursting with freshness.

Flowers, as everyone knows, are among the freshest, most perishable objects on earth. Which is why fresh flowers are placed right up front--to "prime" us to think of freshness the moment we enter the store. Consider the opposite--what if we entered the store and were greeted with stacks of canned tuna and plastic flowers? Having been primed at the outset, we continue to carry that association, albeit subconsciously, with us as we shop. . . .

[F]or years now supermarkets have been sprinkling select vegetables with regular drops of water--a trend that began in Denmark. Why? . . . [T]hose sprinkled drops serve as a symbolic, albeit a bogus one, of freshness and purity. Ironically, that same dewy mist makes the vegetables rot more quickly than they would otherwise.

Walgreens price-gouging bottled water in anticipation of Hurricane Irene

This afternoon, a Walgreens in Manhattan was selling small bottles of water for $5.49 each:



(Photo by me.)

IN THE COMMENTS: We discuss whether price-gouging is good or bad.

The worst article on the environment I've read in a long time

Slate has published this bizarre article: "When Green Is Another Word for Cheap: Hotels' linen-reuse programs get me fuming."

It's about hotels that place signs in their rooms saying things like:

"Save Our Planet … Every day millions of gallons of water are used to wash towels that have only been used once … Please decide for yourself."

The author, Jill Hunter Pellettieri, says she likes to spite these signs by "request[ing] fresh towels and sheets every day."

So, what does Pellettieri have against hotels encouraging people to reuse towels? She says:

I'm all for saving the environment. But I don't want to be guilt-tripped into going green.

Now, she's right that it's guilt-tripping. But what's wrong with "guilt-tripping" if it's actually useful in making people more aware of the environmental effects of their actions?

One thing wrong with it is: guilt-tripping can backfire. So it's not always a smart tactic. You have to weigh the benefit of encouraging people to do good things against the potential for making them feel resentful. But she's not making that argument; she seems to have a problem with it in principle. But if it's the principle of the thing, well, consumers should feel guilt-tripped.

She says it's "your right when you pay for the room" to use a new towel every time. Well, the whole problem is people like her who think it's their "right." You may have the "right" in a narrow, contractual sense: you've paid for full hotel service, and you can do what you want and expect the hotel to continue serving you. But the hotel also has the right to encourage (not force) you to exercise that right responsibly.

Pellettieri actually objects to the whole notion of consumers taking responsibility:

In the service industry, it's the business that should take responsibility for being environmentally sound, not the customers. There are a number of ways hotels can do this: installing water-saving toilets and showers, replacing light bulbs with CFLs, using solar energy, eliminating Styrofoam coffee cups, substituting room key cards made of plastic with those made of recycled paper.

Why is this either/or? Shouldn't it be both? Customers (at hotels or anywhere else) have an enormous responsibility not to excessively use up resources.

You know, Slate is normally a publication you read if you want to have your preconceptions challenged with clear thinking that's not afraid to make the reader disturbed or uncomfortable, including about the environment. (Slate has a long-running weekly column on environmentally smart consumption, a striking contrast from this article.) Pellettieri, in contrast, assumes there must be an easy way out. We shouldn't need to give up the tiniest luxury. Big businesses should make their products "green" so we can use them guilt-free.

I'm all in favor of "green" products, and her specific suggestions along those lines might all be fine. But changing the characteristics of products is an intrinsically limited way of approaching environmental conservation. Green products may be better than the alternative, but they're not magical. I never know how much good supposedly green products are really going to accomplish, and it's hard to even know which products are greener than others, whatever that means. But I know that using only what I need is a whole lot better than using, say, three times what I need with barely any pay-off for myself.

Her own examples of things she'd like businesses to take care of just accentuate this fact: "installing water-saving toilets and showers, replacing light bulbs with CFLs, using solar energy, eliminating Styrofoam coffee cup." Water, cups, energy, and light are all consumer resources that we should be using just as much as we need, not wasting.

She does have a reasonable proposal:

If hotels really can't do without these opt-in laundry schemes, at least they could be transparent about their motives and reward the guests for their sacrifice. "Reusing your towel not only saves our precious natural resources; it also helps us save money. By participating in our linen-reuse program, we'll knock $10 off your room stay per night."

Now, I think offering a specific discount as an incentive is a fine idea. The problem is that she seems to think this is the only way a business could legitimately encourage its customers to conserve. If doing less washing saves businesses money, as she says, then we should expect that to eventually be reflected in lower prices (all other things being equal). That would be, in principle, the same sort of discount she's advocating. It would just be more diffuse and less visible, but that's no reason to disregard it.

IN THE COMMENTS: My dad makes that last point more concrete:

If she pays $200 for a room, maybe that already incorporates the hotel's savings from linen reuse. Maybe they'd have to charge $210 without it.