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Guns Guns Guns
Guest
For some time, there has been a tendency on the part of the Romney campaign to use his personal charity as an answer for almost everything—for his low effective tax rate, for the non-release of his tax returns, for any doubts about how anyone in any way vulnerable might fare under a Romney Presidency.
And yet, in a substantive way, it answers nothing.
“Mitt Romney’s a good man,” Paul Ryan said in last Thursday’s Vice-Presidential debate.
Joe Biden had just reminded the audience of a video, released by Mother Jones last month, in which Romney talked to campaign donors about forty-seven per cent of Americans, supporters of the President, “who are dependent upon government, who believe that they are victims,” adding, “my job is not to worry about those people. I’ll never convince them they should take personal responsibility and care for their lives.”
Ryan’s refutation was both emphatic and strange, because it was empty of policy, and relied on an anecdote that, on closer examination, makes a far more complicated point about social programs.
It went like this:
This is a guy who I was talking to, a family in Northborough, Massachusetts the other day, Sheryl and Mark Nixon. Their kids were hit in a car crash, four of them—two of them, Rob and Reed, were paralyzed. The Romneys didn’t know them. They went to the same church. They never met before.Mitt asked if he could come over on Christmas. He brought his boys, his wife and gifts. Later on he said, I know you’re struggling, Mark. Don’t worry about their college; I’ll pay for it. When Mark told me this story, because you know what, Mitt Romney doesn’t tell these stories.
The Nixons had needed help even though they had insurance.
Reed had been driving a minivan back from a Mormon youth-group meeting. The back brakes didn’t work and the van flipped over and hit a tree.
Rob was in the front passenger seat; they were both wearing seat belts. The other six passengers walked away, but Reed’s neck broke and so did Rob’s. Reed had a C1/C2 fracture and has to be on a ventilator twenty-four hours a day and has no movement from his neck down.
Rob had a C5/C6—“he’s still a quadriplegic but has some use of his arms,” Reed said, “not his hands.”
Reed is still on his parents’ insurance as a dependent but also gets, and needs, assistance through Mass Health, the state iteration of Medicaid—“that’s been a lot of help to me, the Medicaid,” he said. Through the program, he gets the help of personal-care attendants and some hours with a nurse, “helping me to live a fulfilled life.” They made it possible for him to get up and dressed and to appointments, and to attend and complete college. “Both the insurance and the state—both were vital,” Reed said.
“The insurance and the help the state has given us, we couldn’t have done without it,” Sheryl said. “Nobody can be prepared…. There’s just so much cost that it’s overwhelming.”
Romney offered to pay for the boys’ college, although in the end he didn’t have to, because Rob got a full scholarship to Brigham Young, and Reed was able to go to Bentley without paying because Mark Nixon was a professor there.
There is a suggestion that charity can be a better approach than big government—that it is a conceptual substitute for taxes, as well as a test of character.
But the idea that a family struck by tragedy can count on a good man in their church coming to help is not any sort of a plan for America. It wasn’t even one for the Nixons.
And, if it was, would one have to rely on being sympathetic, churchgoing, and blameless to get care?
And yet, in a substantive way, it answers nothing.
“Mitt Romney’s a good man,” Paul Ryan said in last Thursday’s Vice-Presidential debate.
Joe Biden had just reminded the audience of a video, released by Mother Jones last month, in which Romney talked to campaign donors about forty-seven per cent of Americans, supporters of the President, “who are dependent upon government, who believe that they are victims,” adding, “my job is not to worry about those people. I’ll never convince them they should take personal responsibility and care for their lives.”
Ryan’s refutation was both emphatic and strange, because it was empty of policy, and relied on an anecdote that, on closer examination, makes a far more complicated point about social programs.
It went like this:
This is a guy who I was talking to, a family in Northborough, Massachusetts the other day, Sheryl and Mark Nixon. Their kids were hit in a car crash, four of them—two of them, Rob and Reed, were paralyzed. The Romneys didn’t know them. They went to the same church. They never met before.Mitt asked if he could come over on Christmas. He brought his boys, his wife and gifts. Later on he said, I know you’re struggling, Mark. Don’t worry about their college; I’ll pay for it. When Mark told me this story, because you know what, Mitt Romney doesn’t tell these stories.
The Nixons had needed help even though they had insurance.
Reed had been driving a minivan back from a Mormon youth-group meeting. The back brakes didn’t work and the van flipped over and hit a tree.
Rob was in the front passenger seat; they were both wearing seat belts. The other six passengers walked away, but Reed’s neck broke and so did Rob’s. Reed had a C1/C2 fracture and has to be on a ventilator twenty-four hours a day and has no movement from his neck down.
Rob had a C5/C6—“he’s still a quadriplegic but has some use of his arms,” Reed said, “not his hands.”
Reed is still on his parents’ insurance as a dependent but also gets, and needs, assistance through Mass Health, the state iteration of Medicaid—“that’s been a lot of help to me, the Medicaid,” he said. Through the program, he gets the help of personal-care attendants and some hours with a nurse, “helping me to live a fulfilled life.” They made it possible for him to get up and dressed and to appointments, and to attend and complete college. “Both the insurance and the state—both were vital,” Reed said.
“The insurance and the help the state has given us, we couldn’t have done without it,” Sheryl said. “Nobody can be prepared…. There’s just so much cost that it’s overwhelming.”
Romney offered to pay for the boys’ college, although in the end he didn’t have to, because Rob got a full scholarship to Brigham Young, and Reed was able to go to Bentley without paying because Mark Nixon was a professor there.
But the idea that a family struck by tragedy can count on a good man in their church coming to help is not any sort of a plan for America. It wasn’t even one for the Nixons.
And, if it was, would one have to rely on being sympathetic, churchgoing, and blameless to get care?