So what happens if we manage to wrest all those retention bonuses away from the AIG traders who destroyed the company?  Maybe this:

Company officials contend that the uproar is scaring away the very employees who understand AIG Financial Products' complex trades and who are trying to dismantle the division before it further endangers the world's economy.

"It's going to blow up," said a senior Financial Products manager, who spoke on condition of anonymity because he was not authorized to speak for the company. "I have a horrible, horrible, horrible feeling that this is going to end badly."

That would be bad.  But Andrew Ross Sorkin thinks it might be even worse:

A.I.G. employees concocted complex derivatives that then wormed their way through the global financial system. If they leave — the buzz on Wall Street is that some have, and more are ready to — they might simply turn around and trade against A.I.G.’s book. Why not? They know how bad it is. They built it.

So as unpalatable as it seems, taxpayers need to keep some of these brainiacs in their seats, if only to prevent them from turning against the company.

Now that's a lovely thought, isn't it?  If they don't get their bonuses, these guys might not only leave AIG, but turn around and do their best to make things even worse.  That's just speculation, of course.  But would it surprise anyone if that started to happen?

Roger Atwood has previously reported for Mother Jones from Iraq and Peru. This guest blog entry is a post-election follow up to his recent dispatch from El Salvador.

El Salvador's long civil war finally ended on Sunday night. As election results trickled in showing victory for Mauricio Funes, presidential candidate of the guerrilla group-turned-political party Farabundo Marti National Liberation Front, the streets around FMLN headquarters in San Salvador filled with people wearing red shirts, waving red flags, and chanting a line popularized by the president of the FMLN’s former archfoe, the United States: "Yes, we could!" 

Pickup trucks jammed with flatbed-riders and buses crammed with celebrating passengers crisscrossed the city into the night, red flags flapping behind them. The fact that many, if not most, of these celebrants were too young to remember the actual war did not change the fact that the promise of the 1992 peace agreement that ended the fighting and created a pluralist political system has finally been fulfilled. Through fair elections, Salvadorans chose the first genuinely left-wing government of their history. The ruling Nationalist Republic Alliance, or ARENA, which formed in the early 1980s with the express goal of stopping el comunismo, has collapsed under its own weight after 20 years in power. "This result says to the world that El Salvador is prepared for democratic alternation in power," Funes told cheering supporters. "Tonight, Salvadorans have signed a new peace agreement." The ARENA candidate Rodrigo Avila was sullen but gracious, saying in his concession speech, "When we said we would accept whatever result there was, we meant it." 

One learns not to get one's hopes up in a country that has seen as much betrayal and war as El Salvador, but this time it does look like the democratic transition is complete.

Funes takes office on June 1. He is going to face high expectations and tough odds. The economy relies on remittances from Salvadorans living abroad, and remittances are in sharp decline. At 55 homicides per 100,000 people, the crime rate is one of the highest in the world and intimately tied to the family disintegration caused by mass emigration. Even foreign trade has fallen far short of expectations, despite ARENA's ambitions for a globalized role: El Salvador's trade deficit rose to $5.2 billion last year, a sad performance for a small, export-driven economy.

Two quick updates for those watching the demise of American newspapers. First, the 146-year-old Seattle Post-Intelligencer will publish its last print edition tomorrow. After that, it will be published online only. Hearst failed to find a buyer after putting the P-I up for sale in January. The P-I will be the largest daily to convert into a solely digital format, leaving Seattle with just one print newspaper, the Seattle Times.

Another Hearst property, the San Francisco Chronicle, appears to be safe... for now. One of the Chronicle's two employee guilds has reached an agreement with Hearst that will allow the paper to continue publishing both in print and online. Guild members (which include the Chronicle's editorial, art, and marketing staff) voted 333-33 to accept terms that will result in at least 150 layoffs and buyouts. The terms will also reduce sick and vacation time and lengthen the standard workweek, but will secure "up to a year's pay and healthcare" for those who are forced out. The agreement is the result of 10 days of negotiations, with guild members suggesting various proposals to reduce layoffs such as employee ownership.

Dealing With Crises

Noam Scheiber says "our political system isn't ideally suited to dealing with financial and economic crises."  Ezra Klein begs to differ:

Indeed, I think our political system is actually fairly well-designed for short-term crises. The problem is long-term crises like global warming or health costs. As Peter Orszag wrote back on his CBO blog, "our political system doesn’t deal well with gradual, long-term problems" that require "trading off up-front costs in exchange for long-term benefits." Few Congressmen want to raise taxes tomorrow to reduce carbon a decade from now. Lots of Congressmen don't want the economy to collapse if they have to run for reelection next year. For that reason, I'm much more confident in the system's ability to react agilely and seriously to the economic crisis than global warming. The economic crisis, after all, threatens their reelection. Incumbents often don't survive depressions. Conversely, I think conventional wisdom is that it's fixing global warming, rather than global warming itself, that poses the largest political threat to incumbent legislators.

I think that's right.  In fact, I'd go further: not only can we respond fairly well to short-term crises, we actually have responded fairly well to the current economic meltdown.  There have been plenty of miscues and half measures along the way, but in the space of 18 months the Fed has created an alphabet soup of term lending facilities; Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac, and AIG have been nationalized; interest rates have been reduced to near zero; TARP was passed and hundreds of billions of dollars pumped into the banking system; the Fed has launched plans to rescue the commercial paper market, the money market, and the consumer loan market; FDIC insurance has been raised to $250,000; Detroit has been bailed out; and an $800 billion stimulus measure has been passed.  Some of these actions might have been late or misguided — it could hardly be otherwise considering the depth and freakishness of the financial implosion — but all things considered, the willingness of our political system to deal with this crisis hasn't been all that bad.  If we could muster half this much energy, mistakes and all, on behalf of global warming I'd be ecstatic.

In the course of one flight from San Francisco to Tokyo I was handed 13 plastic drinking cups, a new one for every drink. When I held onto one and tried handing it back for the next fill-up, the flight attendant handled it like it was radioactive. Hmm. Northwest Airlines claims to be greening itself [pdf] but the disposable aftermath of even one in-flight meal suggests otherwise. Even assuming they might recycle some of this stuff (will they?), recycling ain't cheap. It's energetically expensive and sometimes counterproductive. Can't we just wash some dishes?

Artist Chris Jordan claims with his usual punch-in-the-gut visual impact that the airline industry in the US uses 1 million plastic cups every six hours. Not sure where he got that number but my flight alone must have squandered something like 4,000 cups.

The problem bugs me on the ground too. So here's my solution. I call it my Urban Mess Kit. It's composed of a cool Float messenger bag from Osprey made of PET plastics with a a minimum of 70-percent recycled materials, mostly recycled drink bottles. I throw in two polypropylene doggy-bag containers that came with my Chinese restaurant leftovers. They're designed for one-time-only use but in reality they'll likely outlive me. I add two sets of plastic cutlery picked up from to-go meals and then NOT thrown away. Finally, one Nalgene drink bottle that I use for hot and cold drinks.

Okay, Nalgene isn't perfect. This older bottle I have probably isn't even BPA-free like the newer stuff. It's definitely not trendy like stainless. But it's overwhelming advantage, IMO, is that I bought it used from a thrift store & so did not encourage the creation of any more plastic to clog the arteries of Planet Earth.

I use my Urban Mess Kit for most everything these days: drinks bought on the go (I hand over my bottle); food bought on the go (including deli counters); leftovers; impromptu picnics. Plus there's still room in my Osprey pack for my laptop, wallet, glasses, keys, phone, a book and more. It all nests into a small footprint, pun intended. If I was entrepreneurial, I'd build and sell these kits. But it would be friendlier to the environment if you reused some of the disposable stuff coming your way and made your own.

Oh, and as part of its Triple-R program for US customers, Osprey joins with the Mountain Fund to take back your old (still useable) pack and give it to someone somewhere in the world who needs it: women trying to break into the trekking and climbing industries in Nepal & Uganda; kids in orphanages in Kyrgyzstan who can learn to socialize on treks; city kids who need to see wilderness. In return, they'll give you 10 percent off a new Osprey bag. So if you really need a new bag, this is a good way to mitigate some of your consumption.

White House Invites Right-Wingers to Discuss Abortion Reduction

Right Wing Watch notes the White House has invited anti-abortion representatives from the religious right to a meeting next Tuesday with Josh DuBois, head of the Office of Faith-Based and Neighborhood Partnerships, to discuss ways to reduce abortions. Among those attending will be Tom McClusky of the Family Research Council and Wendy Wright, president of Concerned Women for America.

That's the same Wendy Wright who has declared that President Obama and Congress are "more hostile to unborn children, to marriage, to religious freedom, to free speech, to protecting our country than has ever existed in our history." And when Obama lifted the ban on Federally funded stem cell research, Wright blasted the move, saying it "financially benefits those seeking to strip morality from science. It is politics at its worst."

Considering Wright's disparaging rhetoric—and similarly critical comments from other Evangelical groups—their invitation to meet with the White House puzzled me: The pro-life stance offers very little, if any, middle ground. Why, then, include pro-life hardliners in a discussion on abortion reduction?

At the very least, the move demonstrates Obama's commitment to listening to and talking with the opposition. It also further distances Obama's administration from George Bush, who never reached out similarly to representatives of groups with views as hostile toward his positions. As a spokesman for NARAL told me via email, "Unless you count getting thrown off the grounds of the FDA for trying to deliver petitions on birth-control access, then no, we were never invited to meet with the Bush administration."

Sheerly Avni is a film and culture writer guest-blogging for Mother Jones from Austin's South by Southwest FestivalRead her first dispatch here.

Part Two: One Man's Garbage Is Another Man's Prayer

The best way to introduce the documentary Garbage Dreams is to introduce one of its three protagonists, a young Egyptian named Adham, who addressed an adoring crowd last night during the film's post-premiere Q&A.

"I had to quit working when I was eight," he said through a translator. "I had to drop out of school at age 8 to help my family. I was ashamed of my job as a zaballeen. But after I attended The Recycling School, I also learned computers, health, and hygiene, I became very proud of my profession, and I realized that my job is as important as a job or doctor: If the zaballeen do not collect the garbage every day...cities will stink."

Adham is one of Cairo's 60,000 zaballeen,  garbage collectors who eke out a living gathering, sorting, and recycling 80 percent of the cities' waste. Until recently, their profession afforded them a modicum of economic security, if no real chance at social mobility, but as the city has turned to subcontracting out collections to foreign companies, the entire community has suffered. Director Mai Iskander spent several years following the struggles of three remarkably charismatic boys—now young men—fighting to protect their trade, all under the careful guardianship of a teacher at The Recycling School, a nonprofit dedicated to educating the young zaballeen, academically as well as professionally.

With no preaching, no lazy text placards, and a deep faith in the boys' ability to tell their own compelling story without comment, Iksander offers up a gripping account of what it means to fight for the right to work with honor, as well as introducing you to three young men you'll not soon forget. The future of their profession may be in danger—as well as their vision of all garbage as, in their own words, "a gift from God"—but this movie could help save it. 

Look out for a particularly striking sequence set on a visit to a Wales recycling factory—with Ahmad serving as both enthusiastic tourist ("Cars here stop to let you cross the street!") and skeptical pro ("No precision," he sniffs, watching shards of broken glass make their way down a conveyer belt to a landfill).

See indieWIRE for an interview with the filmmaker. 

In my next dispatch: cultural shifts in the workplace, take 42. "I guess you'll find me when you want to get wasted."—parting words of Cinematical's managing editor Scott Weinbergto two of his bloggers.

Sarah Palin's office moved fast last week to protect her (self-proclaimed) standing as a scourge of earmarks. On Friday, Mother Jones published a story reporting that the omnibus spending bill just passed by Congress and signed into law by President Barack Obama contained earmarks requested by the Alaska governor, who last year campaigned for the vice presidency as a foe of wasteful government spending, including earmarks. The article also noted that Alaska will receive roughly $140 million in earmarks, which will make it the biggest recipient of earmark spending among all fifty states in per capita terms.

Hours after the article appeared, Palin's office issued a press release headlined, "Governor Palin Continues Earmark Reform." The main point: since she took office in 2006, Palin has each year requested fewer earmarks and has recently only put in requests for a handful of projects. In other words, it's okay to make some earmark requests, just not a lot.

In addition to quickly putting out that press release, Palin's office went after Jake Tapper, ABC News' White House correspondent, who had blogged about the Mother Jones story.

Palin's communications director, Bill McAllister, contacted Tapper and contended, "The governor never said that earmarks should be abolished or that the State of Alaska wouldn't seek or accept any. Didn't happen. What she said…was that earmark reform was necessary and the state would need to rely less on federal money."

But neither Mother Jones nor Tapper had asserted that Palin had sought the abolition of earmarks. Both stories referred to her speech at the Republican National Convention, when she boasted that she had "championed reform to end the abuses of earmark spending by Congress. I told the Congress 'thanks, but no thanks,' for that Bridge to Nowhere." (That last claim was repeatedly debunked.) Tapper also noted that Palin, speaking to ABC News' Charlie Gibson, had said, "The abuse of earmarks, it's un-American, it's undemocratic, and it's not going to be accepted in a McCain-Palin administration. Earmark abuse will stop." Also in that interview, Palin added that John McCain was a crusader against earmark abuse, and "that's what I joined him in fighting." (McCain wants to end the practice of earmarking, not reform it.)

McAllister told Tapper that Palin made 51 earmark requests in FY 2008, totaling $256 million; 31 requests in FY 2009, totaling $197 million; and will request just eight earmarks in FY 2010, totaling $69 million. But when Mother Jones had asked McAllister to detail how many earmarks Palin had requested in the current spending bill, he declined to respond. And McAllister did not tell Tapper that Palin will turn down earmarks requested and won by Murkowski and Young.

Palin remains trapped between her campaign rhetoric and her governing reality. She denounced earmarks as a candidate; she continues to request and accept them as a governor.

As I anticipated, AIG was not in fact able to gather all the information Andrew Cuomo wanted before the New York attorney general's 4pm deadline. Cuomo wrote a letter to AIG this morning demanding information about the millions of dollars of bonus money it's handing out to employees of its financial services division—the same division that got it into the mess it's currently in. As the deadline passed this afternoon, Cuomo called performance bonuses for AIG executives "oxymoronic" and said he was issuing subpoenas immediately.

OnceIf Cuomo gets the names, you can expect the executives who received bonuses to be very publicly shamed. Maybe then some of them will give the money back.

When I was in the Air Force and 26 or 27, I worked with a civilian named Jim. Nice guy. He was about 45, wife and two kids. He'd recently been forced off active duty due to a weird heart glitch unlikely to flare up, and he was miserable about being forced out of uniform. I, on the other hand, was a total gym rat and fashion plate with an unlimited military future. I worked out so, I had to have my uniform sleeves tailored for my sculpted, Michelle-kiss-my-heinie arms. I monitored everything that went into my body and everything that went into anybody's body around me. I subscribed to magazines like Muscle and Fitness and would have competed in bodybuilding competitions had I not been too busy going to school at night to get ahead. Jim, with his Homer Simpson gut and comb over, got winded just using the copier. One day, he came in wincing and limping. He'd actually hurt himself stretching before one of his infrequent attempts to exercise. I laughed and laughed. Thought it was the funniest thing in the world, and only realized in retrospect that he was not sharing the joke. A callow, overconfident youth, it never occurred to me then that my reaction was cruel. And stupid. What, did I think I'd still be bench-pressing my body weight at 80?

In my late 30s, when my own mystery aches and pains began, and now nearly 50 when I never see the inside of a gym that doesn't have -boree after it, styling in my Walmart stretch pants and feeling my gut pillowing into my lap when I'm naked, I have one burning desire—to tell Jim I'm sorry I was such a bitch. Well, two: I'd also thank him for not slapping me. He respectfully tried that day to convince me that eventually age would catch up with me, too, and I wouldn't always be a young hottie, free to work out all evening, apply careful makeup everyday, and fuss over my complicated hairdo. What nonsense! I believe I actually went 'talk to the hand' on that nice man. He might as well have predicted I'd end up becoming a Buddhist monk or a lion-tamer. Never, ever would I "let myself go." "Never would I age," I must have thought. Never would I lose my zeal, or the time, to take care of myself first. 

Well, much as I'd like to, I can't apologize to Jim and commiserate with him over the follies of youth. That "unlikely weird heart glitch" glitched; and a former coworker called a few years after that to tell me JIm had keeled over dead at his desk.

All of that to say this to the young feminists so offended by this elder's critique: One day, you'll have your own Jim story to tell. One day, when you've lived through more of this bitch called life, but without all that youth and vigor, you'll hear yourself saying something like, "These young women today just don't get it. Not like we did." When you've made hideous mistakes you know were because you talked the feminist talk but didn't walk the feminist walk. When that day comes, if I haven't keeled over at my desk, please have the grace to call me up so we can laugh together at youth's callow overconfidence and refusal to listen with respect, if not agreement.

As my father used to say: Even a fool can give you something you can use. But you have to hear him out. I'm not a fool, so why not ask me what I meant, then sift through those insights for the nuggets you buy into? Or, just go on believing you're impervious to either error or critique.

But wait! I started it, right? I was disrespectful first, no? Grow up, girlies. When all those random grannies on the street criticize the way I've dressed my kids or what I'm letting them eat, I just say "thank you" or "have a nice day" or pretend not to have heard. When my mother gets in my business, I say "yes ma'am," then do exactly as I please. Unless she was right, then I take her advice. But however annoying my mom, however much of a busybody the old lady across the street is, I do not growl back. I do not tell them to mind their own business or point out how their generation might have won WWII but what about Jim Crow?

When I was in the military, I sought out the more senior females, took them to lunch, and listened. Same with the female partners at my firm when I was considering the law. Ditto my elders in publishing and journalism. Ninety percent of it was useless to me (or so I thought), but oh that 10 percent.

But, then, I went in assuming I didn't know everything about being a woman in a sexist world or navigating the currents of a profession as volatile as mine. And I went in with some old-fashioned home training.

I'm not talking about reverence, I'm talking about a thirst for the kind of knowledge that will help in the battles all your responses claim to be fighting so diligently for. Here's my final example: I take seriously the chidings of people who've been dead for as much as 150 years.