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Why the Past 10 Years of American Life Have Been Uniquely Stupid – By Jonathan Haidt (The Atlantic)

What would it have been like to live in Babel in the days after its destruction? In the Book of Genesis, we are told that the descendants of Noah built a great city in the land of Shinar. They built a tower “with its top in the heavens” to “make a name” for themselves. God was offended by the hubris of humanity and said:

Look, they are one people, and they have all one language; and this is only the beginning of what they will do; nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. Come, let us go down, and confuse their language there, so that they will not understand one another’s speech.

The text does not say that God destroyed the tower, but in many popular renderings of the story he does, so let’s hold that dramatic image in our minds: people wandering amid the ruins, unable to communicate, condemned to mutual incomprehension.

The story of Babel is the best metaphor I have found for what happened to America in the 2010s, and for the fractured country we now inhabit. Something went terribly wrong, very suddenly. We are disoriented, unable to speak the same language or recognize the same truth. We are cut off from one another and from the past.

It’s been clear for quite a while now that red America and blue America are becoming like two different countries claiming the same territory, with two different versions of the Constitution, economics, and American history. But Babel is not a story about tribalism; it’s a story about the fragmentation of everything. It’s about the shattering of all that had seemed solid, the scattering of people who had been a community. It’s a metaphor for what is happening not only between red and blue, but within the left and within the right, as well as within universities, companies, professional associations, museums, and even families.

Babel is a metaphor for what some forms of social media have done to nearly all of the groups and institutions most important to the country’s future—and to us as a people. How did this happen? And what does it portend for American life?

The Rise of the Modern Tower

There is a direction to history and it is toward cooperation at larger scales. We see this trend in biological evolution, in the series of “major transitions” through which multicellular organisms first appeared and then developed new symbiotic relationships. We see it in cultural evolution too, as Robert Wright explained in his 1999 book, Nonzero: The Logic of Human Destiny. Wright showed that history involves a series of transitions, driven by rising population density plus new technologies (writing, roads, the printing press) that created new possibilities for mutually beneficial trade and learning. Zero-sum conflicts—such as the wars of religion that arose as the printing press spread heretical ideas across Europe—were better thought of as temporary setbacks, and sometimes even integral to progress. (Those wars of religion, he argued, made possible the transition to modern nation-states with better-informed citizens.) President Bill Clinton praised Nonzero’s optimistic portrayal of a more cooperative future thanks to continued technological advance.

The early internet of the 1990s, with its chat rooms, message boards, and email, exemplified the Nonzero thesis, as did the first wave of social-media platforms, which launched around 2003. Myspace, Friendster, and Facebook made it easy to connect with friends and strangers to talk about common interests, for free, and at a scale never before imaginable. By 2008, Facebook had emerged as the dominant platform, with more than 100 million monthly users, on its way to roughly 3 billion today. In the first decade of the new century, social media was widely believed to be a boon to democracy. What dictator could impose his will on an interconnected citizenry? What regime could build a wall to keep out the internet?

The high point of techno-democratic optimism was arguably 2011, a year that began with the Arab Spring and ended with the global Occupy movement. That is also when Google Translate became available on virtually all smartphones, so you could say that 2011 was the year that humanity rebuilt the Tower of Babel. We were closer than we had ever been to being “one people,” and we had effectively overcome the curse of division by language. For techno-democratic optimists, it seemed to be only the beginning of what humanity could do.

In February 2012, as he prepared to take Facebook public, Mark Zuckerberg reflected on those extraordinary times and set forth his plans. “Today, our society has reached another tipping point,” he wrote in a letter to investors. Facebook hoped “to rewire the way people spread and consume information.” By giving them “the power to share,” it would help them to “once again transform many of our core institutions and industries.”

In the 10 years since then, Zuckerberg did exactly what he said he would do. He did rewire the way we spread and consume information; he did transform our institutions, and he pushed us past the tipping point. It has not worked out as he expected.

Things Fall Apart

Historically, civilizations have relied on shared blood, gods, and enemies to counteract the tendency to split apart as they grow. But what is it that holds together large and diverse secular democracies such as the United States and India, or, for that matter, modern Britain and France?

Social scientists have identified at least three major forces that collectively bind together successful democracies: social capital (extensive social networks with high levels of trust), strong institutions, and shared stories. Social media has weakened all three. To see how, we must understand how social media changed over time—and especially in the several years following 2009.

In their early incarnations, platforms such as Myspace and Facebook were relatively harmless. They allowed users to create pages on which to post photos, family updates, and links to the mostly static pages of their friends and favorite bands. In this way, early social media can be seen as just another step in the long progression of technological improvements—from the Postal Service through the telephone to email and texting—that helped people achieve the eternal goal of maintaining their social ties.

But gradually, social-media users became more comfortable sharing intimate details of their lives with strangers and corporations. As I wrote in a 2019 Atlantic article with Tobias Rose-Stockwell, they became more adept at putting on performances and managing their personal brand—activities that might impress others but that do not deepen friendships in the way that a private phone conversation will.

Once social-media platforms had trained users to spend more time performing and less time connecting, the stage was set for the major transformation, which began in 2009: the intensification of viral dynamics.

Babel is not a story about tribalism. It’s a story about the fragmentation of everything.

Before 2009, Facebook had given users a simple timeline––a never-ending stream of content generated by their friends and connections, with the newest posts at the top and the oldest ones at the bottom. This was often overwhelming in its volume, but it was an accurate reflection of what others were posting. That began to change in 2009, when Facebook offered users a way to publicly “like” posts with the click of a button. That same year, Twitter introduced something even more powerful: the “Retweet” button, which allowed users to publicly endorse a post while also sharing it with all of their followers. Facebook soon copied that innovation with its own “Share” button, which became available to smartphone users in 2012. “Like” and “Share” buttons quickly became standard features of most other platforms.

Shortly after its “Like” button began to produce data about what best “engaged” its users, Facebook developed algorithms to bring each user the content most likely to generate a “like” or some other interaction, eventually including the “share” as well. Later research showed that posts that trigger emotions––especially anger at out-groups––are the most likely to be shared.

By 2013, social media had become a new game, with dynamics unlike those in 2008. If you were skillful or lucky, you might create a post that would “go viral” and make you “internet famous” for a few days. If you blundered, you could find yourself buried in hateful comments. Your posts rode to fame or ignominy based on the clicks of thousands of strangers, and you in turn contributed thousands of clicks to the game.

This new game encouraged dishonesty and mob dynamics: Users were guided not just by their true preferences but by their past experiences of reward and punishment, and their prediction of how others would react to each new action. One of the engineers at Twitter who had worked on the “Retweet” button later revealed that he regretted his contribution because it had made Twitter a nastier place. As he watched Twitter mobs forming through the use of the new tool, he thought to himself, “We might have just handed a 4-year-old a loaded weapon.”

As a social psychologist who studies emotion, morality, and politics, I saw this happening too. The newly tweaked platforms were almost perfectly designed to bring out our most moralistic and least reflective selves. The volume of outrage was shocking.

It was just this kind of twitchy and explosive spread of anger that James Madison had tried to protect us from as he was drafting the U.S. Constitution. The Framers of the Constitution were excellent social psychologists. They knew that democracy had an Achilles’ heel because it depended on the collective judgment of the people, and democratic communities are subject to “the turbulency and weakness of unruly passions.” The key to designing a sustainable republic, therefore, was to build in mechanisms to slow things down, cool passions, require compromise, and give leaders some insulation from the mania of the moment while still holding them accountable to the people periodically, on Election Day.

The tech companies that enhanced virality from 2009 to 2012 brought us deep into Madison’s nightmare. Many authors quote his comments in “Federalist No. 10” on the innate human proclivity toward “faction,” by which he meant our tendency to divide ourselves into teams or parties that are so inflamed with “mutual animosity” that they are “much more disposed to vex and oppress each other than to cooperate for their common good.”

But that essay continues on to a less quoted yet equally important insight, about democracy’s vulnerability to triviality. Madison notes that people are so prone to factionalism that “where no substantial occasion presents itself, the most frivolous and fanciful distinctions have been sufficient to kindle their unfriendly passions and excite their most violent conflicts.”

Social media has both magnified and weaponized the frivolous. Is our democracy any healthier now that we’ve had Twitter brawls over Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s tax the rich dress at the annual Met Gala, and Melania Trump’s dress at a 9/11 memorial event, which had stitching that kind of looked like a skyscraper? How about Senator Ted Cruz’s tweet criticizing Big Bird for tweeting about getting his COVID vaccine?

It’s not just the waste of time and scarce attention that matters; it’s the continual chipping-away of trust. An autocracy can deploy propaganda or use fear to motivate the behaviors it desires, but a democracy depends on widely internalized acceptance of the legitimacy of rules, norms, and institutions. Blind and irrevocable trust in any particular individual or organization is never warranted. But when citizens lose trust in elected leaders, health authorities, the courts, the police, universities, and the integrity of elections, then every decision becomes contested; every election becomes a life-and-death struggle to save the country from the other side. The most recent Edelman Trust Barometer (an international measure of citizens’ trust in government, business, media, and nongovernmental organizations) showed stable and competent autocracies (China and the United Arab Emirates) at the top of the list, while contentious democracies such as the United States, the United Kingdom, Spain, and South Korea scored near the bottom (albeit above Russia).

Recent academic studies suggest that social media is indeed corrosive to trust in governments, news media, and people and institutions in general. A working paper that offers the most comprehensive review of the research, led by the social scientists Philipp Lorenz-Spreen and Lisa Oswald, concludes that “the large majority of reported associations between digital media use and trust appear to be detrimental for democracy.” The literature is complex—some studies show benefits, particularly in less developed democracies—but the review found that, on balance, social media amplifies political polarization; foments populism, especially right-wing populism; and is associated with the spread of misinformation.

When people lose trust in institutions, they lose trust in the stories told by those institutions. That’s particularly true of the institutions entrusted with the education of children. History curricula have often caused political controversy, but Facebook and Twitter make it possible for parents to become outraged every day over a new snippet from their children’s history lessons––and math lessons and literature selections, and any new pedagogical shifts anywhere in the country. The motives of teachers and administrators come into question, and overreaching laws or curricular reforms sometimes follow, dumbing down education and reducing trust in it further. One result is that young people educated in the post-Babel era are less likely to arrive at a coherent story of who we are as a people, and less likely to share any such story with those who attended different schools or who were educated in a different decade.

The former CIA analyst Martin Gurri predicted these fracturing effects in his 2014 book, The Revolt of the Public. Gurri’s analysis focused on the authority-subverting effects of information’s exponential growth, beginning with the internet in the 1990s. Writing nearly a decade ago, Gurri could already see the power of social media as a universal solvent, breaking down bonds and weakening institutions everywhere it reached. He noted that distributed networks “can protest and overthrow, but never govern.” He described the nihilism of the many protest movements of 2011 that organized mostly online and that, like Occupy Wall Street, demanded the destruction of existing institutions without offering an alternative vision of the future or an organization that could bring it about.

Gurri is no fan of elites or of centralized authority, but he notes a constructive feature of the pre-digital era: a single “mass audience,” all consuming the same content, as if they were all looking into the same gigantic mirror at the reflection of their own society. In a comment to Vox that recalls the first post-Babel diaspora, he said:

The digital revolution has shattered that mirror, and now the public inhabits those broken pieces of glass. So the public isn’t one thing; it’s highly fragmented, and it’s basically mutually hostile. It’s mostly people yelling at each other and living in bubbles of one sort or another.

Mark Zuckerberg may not have wished for any of that. But by rewiring everything in a headlong rush for growth—with a naive conception of human psychology, little understanding of the intricacy of institutions, and no concern for external costs imposed on society—Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and a few other large platforms unwittingly dissolved the mortar of trust, belief in institutions, and shared stories that had held a large and diverse secular democracy together.

I think we can date the fall of the tower to the years between 2011 (Gurri’s focal year of “nihilistic” protests) and 2015, a year marked by the “great awokening” on the left and the ascendancy of Donald Trump on the right. Trump did not destroy the tower; he merely exploited its fall. He was the first politician to master the new dynamics of the post-Babel era, in which outrage is the key to virality, stage performance crushes competence, Twitter can overpower all the newspapers in the country, and stories cannot be shared (or at least trusted) across more than a few adjacent fragments—so truth cannot achieve widespread adherence.

The many analysts, including me, who had argued that Trump could not win the general election were relying on pre-Babel intuitions, which said that scandals such as the Access Hollywood tape (in which Trump boasted about committing sexual assault) are fatal to a presidential campaign. But after Babel, nothing really means anything anymore––at least not in a way that is durable and on which people widely agree.

Politics After Babel

“Politics is the art of the possible,” the German statesman Otto von Bismarck said in 1867. In a post-Babel democracy, not much may be possible.

Of course, the American culture war and the decline of cross-party cooperation predates social media’s arrival. The mid-20th century was a time of unusually low polarization in Congress, which began reverting back to historical levels in the 1970s and ’80s. The ideological distance between the two parties began increasing faster in the 1990s. Fox News and the 1994 “Republican Revolution” converted the GOP into a more combative party. For example, House Speaker Newt Gingrich discouraged new Republican members of Congress from moving their families to Washington, D.C., where they were likely to form social ties with Democrats and their families.

So cross-party relationships were already strained before 2009. But the enhanced virality of social media thereafter made it more hazardous to be seen fraternizing with the enemy or even failing to attack the enemy with sufficient vigor. On the right, the term RINO (Republican in Name Only) was superseded in 2015 by the more contemptuous term cuckservative, popularized on Twitter by Trump supporters. On the left, social media launched callout culture in the years after 2012, with transformative effects on university life and later on politics and culture throughout the English-speaking world.

What changed in the 2010s? Let’s revisit that Twitter engineer’s metaphor of handing a loaded gun to a 4-year-old. A mean tweet doesn’t kill anyone; it is an attempt to shame or punish someone publicly while broadcasting one’s own virtue, brilliance, or tribal loyalties. It’s more a dart than a bullet, causing pain but no fatalities. Even so, from 2009 to 2012, Facebook and Twitter passed out roughly 1 billion dart guns globally. We’ve been shooting one another ever since.

Social media has given voice to some people who had little previously, and it has made it easier to hold powerful people accountable for their misdeeds, not just in politics but in business, the arts, academia, and elsewhere. Sexual harassers could have been called out in anonymous blog posts before Twitter, but it’s hard to imagine that the #MeToo movement would have been nearly so successful without the viral enhancement that the major platforms offered. However, the warped “accountability” of social media has also brought injustice—and political dysfunction—in three ways.

First, the dart guns of social media give more power to trolls and provocateurs while silencing good citizens. Research by the political scientists Alexander Bor and Michael Bang Petersen found that a small subset of people on social-media platforms are highly concerned with gaining status and are willing to use aggression to do so. They admit that in their online discussions they often curse, make fun of their opponents, and get blocked by other users or reported for inappropriate comments. Across eight studies, Bor and Petersen found that being online did not make most people more aggressive or hostile; rather, it allowed a small number of aggressive people to attack a much larger set of victims. Even a small number of jerks were able to dominate discussion forums, Bor and Petersen found, because nonjerks are easily turned off from online discussions of politics. Additional research finds that women and Black people are harassed disproportionately, so the digital public square is less welcoming to their voices.

Second, the dart guns of social media give more power and voice to the political extremes while reducing the power and voice of the moderate majority. The “Hidden Tribes” study, by the pro-democracy group More in Common, surveyed 8,000 Americans in 2017 and 2018 and identified seven groups that shared beliefs and behaviors. The one furthest to the right, known as the “devoted conservatives,” comprised 6 percent of the U.S. population. The group furthest to the left, the “progressive activists,” comprised 8 percent of the population. The progressive activists were by far the most prolific group on social media: 70 percent had shared political content over the previous year. The devoted conservatives followed, at 56 percent.

These two extreme groups are similar in surprising ways. They are the whitest and richest of the seven groups, which suggests that America is being torn apart by a battle between two subsets of the elite who are not representative of the broader society. What’s more, they are the two groups that show the greatest homogeneity in their moral and political attitudes. This uniformity of opinion, the study’s authors speculate, is likely a result of thought-policing on social media: “Those who express sympathy for the views of opposing groups may experience backlash from their own cohort.” In other words, political extremists don’t just shoot darts at their enemies; they spend a lot of their ammunition targeting dissenters or nuanced thinkers on their own team. In this way, social media makes a political system based on compromise grind to a halt.

Finally, by giving everyone a dart gun, social media deputizes everyone to administer justice with no due process. Platforms like Twitter devolve into the Wild West, with no accountability for vigilantes. A successful attack attracts a barrage of likes and follow-on strikes. Enhanced-virality platforms thereby facilitate massive collective punishment for small or imagined offenses, with real-world consequences, including innocent people losing their jobs and being shamed into suicide. When our public square is governed by mob dynamics unrestrained by due process, we don’t get justice and inclusion; we get a society that ignores context, proportionality, mercy, and truth.

Structural Stupidity

Since the tower fell, debates of all kinds have grown more and more confused. The most pervasive obstacle to good thinking is confirmation bias, which refers to the human tendency to search only for evidence that confirms our preferred beliefs. Even before the advent of social media, search engines were supercharging confirmation bias, making it far easier for people to find evidence for absurd beliefs and conspiracy theories, such as that the Earth is flat and that the U.S. government staged the 9/11 attacks. But social media made things much worse.

The most reliable cure for confirmation bias is interaction with people who don’t share your beliefs. They confront you with counterevidence and counterargument. John Stuart Mill said, “He who knows only his own side of the case, knows little of that,” and he urged us to seek out conflicting views “from persons who actually believe them.” People who think differently and are willing to speak up if they disagree with you make you smarter, almost as if they are extensions of your own brain. People who try to silence or intimidate their critics make themselves stupider, almost as if they are shooting darts into their own brain.In the 20th century, America built the most capable knowledge-producing institutions in human history. In the past decade, they got stupider en masse.

In his book The Constitution of Knowledge, Jonathan Rauch describes the historical breakthrough in which Western societies developed an “epistemic operating system”—that is, a set of institutions for generating knowledge from the interactions of biased and cognitively flawed individuals. English law developed the adversarial system so that biased advocates could present both sides of a case to an impartial jury. Newspapers full of lies evolved into professional journalistic enterprises, with norms that required seeking out multiple sides of a story, followed by editorial review, followed by fact-checking. Universities evolved from cloistered medieval institutions into research powerhouses, creating a structure in which scholars put forth evidence-backed claims with the knowledge that other scholars around the world would be motivated to gain prestige by finding contrary evidence.

Part of America’s greatness in the 20th century came from having developed the most capable, vibrant, and productive network of knowledge-producing institutions in all of human history, linking together the world’s best universities, private companies that turned scientific advances into life-changing consumer products, and government agencies that supported scientific research and led the collaboration that put people on the moon.

But this arrangement, Rauch notes, “is not self-maintaining; it relies on an array of sometimes delicate social settings and understandings, and those need to be understood, affirmed, and protected.” So what happens when an institution is not well maintained and internal disagreement ceases, either because its people have become ideologically uniform or because they have become afraid to dissent?

This, I believe, is what happened to many of America’s key institutions in the mid-to-late 2010s. They got stupider en masse because social media instilled in their members a chronic fear of getting darted. The shift was most pronounced in universities, scholarly associations, creative industries, and political organizations at every level (national, state, and local), and it was so pervasive that it established new behavioral norms backed by new policies seemingly overnight. The new omnipresence of enhanced-virality social media meant that a single word uttered by a professorleader, or journalist, even if spoken with positive intent, could lead to a social-media firestorm, triggering an immediate dismissal or a drawn-out investigation by the institution. Participants in our key institutions began self-censoring to an unhealthy degree, holding back critiques of policies and ideas—even those presented in class by their students—that they believed to be ill-supported or wrong.

But when an institution punishes internal dissent, it shoots darts into its own brain.

The stupefying process plays out differently on the right and the left because their activist wings subscribe to different narratives with different sacred values. The “Hidden Tribes” study tells us that the “devoted conservatives” score highest on beliefs related to authoritarianism. They share a narrative in which America is eternally under threat from enemies outside and subversives within; they see life as a battle between patriots and traitors. According to the political scientist Karen Stenner, whose work the “Hidden Tribes” study drew upon, they are psychologically different from the larger group of “traditional conservatives” (19 percent of the population), who emphasize order, decorum, and slow rather than radical change.

Only within the devoted conservatives’ narratives do Donald Trump’s speeches make sense, from his campaign’s ominous opening diatribe about Mexican “rapists” to his warning on January 6, 2021: “If you don’t fight like hell, you’re not going to have a country anymore.”

The traditional punishment for treason is death, hence the battle cry on January 6: “Hang Mike Pence.” Right-wing death threats, many delivered by anonymous accounts, are proving effective in cowing traditional conservatives, for example in driving out local election officials who failed to “stop the steal.” The wave of threats delivered to dissenting Republican members of Congress has similarly pushed many of the remaining moderates to quit or go silent, giving us a party ever more divorced from the conservative tradition, constitutional responsibility, and reality. We now have a Republican Party that describes a violent assault on the U.S. Capitol as “legitimate political discourse,” supported—or at least not contradicted—by an array of right-wing think tanks and media organizations.

The stupidity on the right is most visible in the many conspiracy theories spreading across right-wing media and now into Congress. “Pizzagate,” QAnon, the belief that vaccines contain microchips, the conviction that Donald Trump won reelection—it’s hard to imagine any of these ideas or belief systems reaching the levels that they have without Facebook and Twitter.

The Democrats have also been hit hard by structural stupidity, though in a different way. In the Democratic Party, the struggle between the progressive wing and the more moderate factions is open and ongoing, and often the moderates win. The problem is that the left controls the commanding heights of the culture: universities, news organizations, Hollywood, art museums, advertising, much of Silicon Valley, and the teachers’ unions and teaching colleges that shape K–12 education. And in many of those institutions, dissent has been stifled: When everyone was issued a dart gun in the early 2010s, many left-leaning institutions began shooting themselves in the brain. And unfortunately, those were the brains that inform, instruct, and entertain most of the country.

Liberals in the late 20th century shared a belief that the sociologist Christian Smith called the “liberal progress” narrative, in which America used to be horrifically unjust and repressive, but, thanks to the struggles of activists and heroes, has made (and continues to make) progress toward realizing the noble promise of its founding. This story easily supports liberal patriotism, and it was the animating narrative of Barack Obama’s presidency. It is also the view of the “traditional liberals” in the “Hidden Tribes” study (11 percent of the population), who have strong humanitarian values, are older than average, and are largely the people leading America’s cultural and intellectual institutions.

But when the newly viralized social-media platforms gave everyone a dart gun, it was younger progressive activists who did the most shooting, and they aimed a disproportionate number of their darts at these older liberal leaders. Confused and fearful, the leaders rarely challenged the activists or their nonliberal narrative in which life at every institution is an eternal battle among identity groups over a zero-sum pie, and the people on top got there by oppressing the people on the bottom. This new narrative is rigidly egalitarian––focused on equality of outcomes, not of rights or opportunities. It is unconcerned with individual rights.

The universal charge against people who disagree with this narrative is not “traitor”; it is “racist,” “transphobe,” “Karen,” or some related scarlet letter marking the perpetrator as one who hates or harms a marginalized group. The punishment that feels right for such crimes is not execution; it is public shaming and social death.

You can see the stupefaction process most clearly when a person on the left merely points to research that questions or contradicts a favored belief among progressive activists. Someone on Twitter will find a way to associate the dissenter with racism, and others will pile on. For example, in the first week of protests after the killing of George Floyd, some of which included violence, the progressive policy analyst David Shor, then employed by Civis Analytics, tweeted a link to a study showing that violent protests back in the 1960s led to electoral setbacks for the Democrats in nearby counties. Shor was clearly trying to be helpful, but in the ensuing outrage he was accused of “anti-Blackness” and was soon dismissed from his job. (Civis Analytics has denied that the tweet led to Shor’s firing.)

The Shor case became famous, but anyone on Twitter had already seen dozens of examples teaching the basic lesson: Don’t question your own side’s beliefs, policies, or actions. And when traditional liberals go silent, as so many did in the summer of 2020, the progressive activists’ more radical narrative takes over as the governing narrative of an organization. This is why so many epistemic institutions seemed to “go woke” in rapid succession that year and the next, beginning with a wave of controversies and resignations at The New York Times and other newspapers, and continuing on to social-justice pronouncements by groups of doctors and medical associations (one publication by the American Medical Association and the Association of American Medical Colleges, for instance, advised medical professionals to refer to neighborhoods and communities as “oppressed” or “systematically divested” instead of “vulnerable” or “poor”), and the hurried transformation of curricula at New York City’s most expensive private schools.

Tragically, we see stupefaction playing out on both sides in the COVID wars. The right has been so committed to minimizing the risks of COVID that it has turned the disease into one that preferentially kills Republicans. The progressive left is so committed to maximizing the dangers of COVID that it often embraces an equally maximalist, one-size-fits-all strategy for vaccines, masks, and social distancing—even as they pertain to children. Such policies are not as deadly as spreading fears and lies about vaccines, but many of them have been devastating for the mental health and education of children, who desperately need to play with one another and go to school; we have little clear evidence that school closures and masks for young children reduce deaths from COVID. Most notably for the story I’m telling here, progressive parents who argued against school closures were frequently savaged on social media and met with the ubiquitous leftist accusations of racism and white supremacy. Others in blue cities learned to keep quiet.

American politics is getting ever more ridiculous and dysfunctional not because Americans are getting less intelligent. The problem is structural. Thanks to enhanced-virality social media, dissent is punished within many of our institutions, which means that bad ideas get elevated into official policy.

It’s Going to Get Much Worse

In a 2018 interview, Steve Bannon, the former adviser to Donald Trump, said that the way to deal with the media is “to flood the zone with shit.” He was describing the “firehose of falsehood” tactic pioneered by Russian disinformation programs to keep Americans confused, disoriented, and angry. But back then, in 2018, there was an upper limit to the amount of shit available, because all of it had to be created by a person (other than some low-quality stuff produced by bots).

Now, however, artificial intelligence is close to enabling the limitless spread of highly believable disinformation. The AI program GPT-3 is already so good that you can give it a topic and a tone and it will spit out as many essays as you like, typically with perfect grammar and a surprising level of coherence. In a year or two, when the program is upgraded to GPT-4, it will become far more capable. In a 2020 essay titled “The Supply of Disinformation Will Soon Be Infinite,” Renée DiResta, the research manager at the Stanford Internet Observatory, explained that spreading falsehoods—whether through text, images, or deep-fake videos—will quickly become inconceivably easy. (She co-wrote the essay with GPT-3.)

American factions won’t be the only ones using AI and social media to generate attack content; our adversaries will too. In a haunting 2018 essay titled “The Digital Maginot Line,” DiResta described the state of affairs bluntly. “We are immersed in an evolving, ongoing conflict: an Information World War in which state actors, terrorists, and ideological extremists leverage the social infrastructure underpinning everyday life to sow discord and erode shared reality,” she wrote. The Soviets used to have to send over agents or cultivate Americans willing to do their bidding. But social media made it cheap and easy for Russia’s Internet Research Agency to invent fake events or distort real ones to stoke rage on both the left and the right, often over race. Later research showed that an intensive campaign began on Twitter in 2013 but soon spread to Facebook, Instagram, and YouTube, among other platforms. One of the major goals was to polarize the American public and spread distrust—to split us apart at the exact weak point that Madison had identified.If we do not make major changes soon, then our institutions, our political system, and our society may collapse.

We now know that it’s not just the Russians attacking American democracy. Before the 2019 protests in Hong Kong, China had mostly focused on domestic platforms such as WeChat. But now China is discovering how much it can do with Twitter and Facebook, for so little money, in its escalating conflict with the U.S. Given China’s own advances in AI, we can expect it to become more skillful over the next few years at further dividing America and further uniting China.

In the 20th century, America’s shared identity as the country leading the fight to make the world safe for democracy was a strong force that helped keep the culture and the polity together. In the 21st century, America’s tech companies have rewired the world and created products that now appear to be corrosive to democracy, obstacles to shared understanding, and destroyers of the modern tower.

Democracy After Babel

We can never return to the way things were in the pre-digital age. The norms, institutions, and forms of political participation that developed during the long era of mass communication are not going to work well now that technology has made everything so much faster and more multidirectional, and when bypassing professional gatekeepers is so easy. And yet American democracy is now operating outside the bounds of sustainability. If we do not make major changes soon, then our institutions, our political system, and our society may collapse during the next major war, pandemic, financial meltdown, or constitutional crisis.

What changes are needed? Redesigning democracy for the digital age is far beyond my abilities, but I can suggest three categories of reforms––three goals that must be achieved if democracy is to remain viable in the post-Babel era. We must harden democratic institutions so that they can withstand chronic anger and mistrust, reform social media so that it becomes less socially corrosive, and better prepare the next generation for democratic citizenship in this new age.

Harden Democratic Institutions

Political polarization is likely to increase for the foreseeable future. Thus, whatever else we do, we must reform key institutions so that they can continue to function even if levels of anger, misinformation, and violence increase far above those we have today.

For instance, the legislative branch was designed to require compromise, yet Congress, social media, and partisan cable news channels have co-evolved such that any legislator who reaches across the aisle may face outrage within hours from the extreme wing of her party, damaging her fundraising prospects and raising her risk of being primaried in the next election cycle.

Reforms should reduce the outsize influence of angry extremists and make legislators more responsive to the average voter in their district. One example of such a reform is to end closed party primaries, replacing them with a single, nonpartisan, open primary from which the top several candidates advance to a general election that also uses ranked-choice voting. A version of this voting system has already been implemented in Alaska, and it seems to have given Senator Lisa Murkowski more latitude to oppose former President Trump, whose favored candidate would be a threat to Murkowski in a closed Republican primary but is not in an open one.

A second way to harden democratic institutions is to reduce the power of either political party to game the system in its favor, for example by drawing its preferred electoral districts or selecting the officials who will supervise elections. These jobs should all be done in a nonpartisan way. Research on procedural justice shows that when people perceive that a process is fair, they are more likely to accept the legitimacy of a decision that goes against their interests. Just think of the damage already done to the Supreme Court’s legitimacy by the Senate’s Republican leadership when it blocked consideration of Merrick Garland for a seat that opened up nine months before the 2016 election, and then rushed through the appointment of Amy Coney Barrett in 2020. A widely discussed reform would end this political gamesmanship by having justices serve staggered 18-year terms so that each president makes one appointment every two years.

Reform Social Media

A democracy cannot survive if its public squares are places where people fear speaking up and where no stable consensus can be reached. Social media’s empowerment of the far left, the far right, domestic trolls, and foreign agents is creating a system that looks less like democracy and more like rule by the most aggressive.

But it is within our power to reduce social media’s ability to dissolve trust and foment structural stupidity. Reforms should limit the platforms’ amplification of the aggressive fringes while giving more voice to what More in Common calls “the exhausted majority.”

Those who oppose regulation of social media generally focus on the legitimate concern that government-mandated content restrictions will, in practice, devolve into censorship. But the main problem with social media is not that some people post fake or toxic stuff; it’s that fake and outrage-inducing content can now attain a level of reach and influence that was not possible before 2009. The Facebook whistleblower Frances Haugen advocates for simple changes to the architecture of the platforms, rather than for massive and ultimately futile efforts to police all content. For example, she has suggested modifying the “Share” function on Facebook so that after any content has been shared twice, the third person in the chain must take the time to copy and paste the content into a new post. Reforms like this are not censorship; they are viewpoint-neutral and content-neutral, and they work equally well in all languages. They don’t stop anyone from saying anything; they just slow the spread of content that is, on average, less likely to be true.

Perhaps the biggest single change that would reduce the toxicity of existing platforms would be user verification as a precondition for gaining the algorithmic amplification that social media offers.

Banks and other industries have “know your customer” rules so that they can’t do business with anonymous clients laundering money from criminal enterprises. Large social-media platforms should be required to do the same. That does not mean users would have to post under their real names; they could still use a pseudonym. It just means that before a platform spreads your words to millions of people, it has an obligation to verify (perhaps through a third party or nonprofit) that you are a real human being, in a particular country, and are old enough to be using the platform. This one change would wipe out most of the hundreds of millions of bots and fake accounts that currently pollute the major platforms. It would also likely reduce the frequency of death threats, rape threats, racist nastiness, and trolling more generally. Research shows that antisocial behavior becomes more common online when people feel that their identity is unknown and untraceable.

In any case, the growing evidence that social media is damaging democracy is sufficient to warrant greater oversight by a regulatory body, such as the Federal Communications Commission or the Federal Trade Commission. One of the first orders of business should be compelling the platforms to share their data and their algorithms with academic researchers.

Prepare the Next Generation

The members of Gen Z––those born in and after 1997––bear none of the blame for the mess we are in, but they are going to inherit it, and the preliminary signs are that older generations have prevented them from learning how to handle it.

Childhood has become more tightly circumscribed in recent generations––with less opportunity for free, unstructured play; less unsupervised time outside; more time online. Whatever else the effects of these shifts, they have likely impeded the development of abilities needed for effective self-governance for many young adults. Unsupervised free play is nature’s way of teaching young mammals the skills they’ll need as adults, which for humans include the ability to cooperate, make and enforce rules, compromise, adjudicate conflicts, and accept defeat. A brilliant 2015 essay by the economist Steven Horwitz argued that free play prepares children for the “art of association” that Alexis de Tocqueville said was the key to the vibrancy of American democracy; he also argued that its loss posed “a serious threat to liberal societies.” A generation prevented from learning these social skills, Horwitz warned, would habitually appeal to authorities to resolve disputes and would suffer from a “coarsening of social interaction” that would “create a world of more conflict and violence.”

And while social media has eroded the art of association throughout society, it may be leaving its deepest and most enduring marks on adolescents. A surge in rates of anxiety, depression, and self-harm among American teens began suddenly in the early 2010s. (The same thing happened to Canadian and British teens, at the same time.) The cause is not known, but the timing points to social media as a substantial contributor—the surge began just as the large majority of American teens became daily users of the major platforms. Correlational and experimental studies back up the connection to depression and anxiety, as do reports from young people themselves, and from Facebook’s own research, as reported by The Wall Street Journal.

Depression makes people less likely to want to engage with new people, ideas, and experiences. Anxiety makes new things seem more threatening. As these conditions have risen and as the lessons on nuanced social behavior learned through free play have been delayed, tolerance for diverse viewpoints and the ability to work out disputes have diminished among many young people. For example, university communities that could tolerate a range of speakers as recently as 2010 arguably began to lose that ability in subsequent years, as Gen Z began to arrive on campus. Attempts to disinvite visiting speakers rose. Students did not just say that they disagreed with visiting speakers; some said that those lectures would be dangerous, emotionally devastating, a form of violence. Because rates of teen depression and anxiety have continued to rise into the 2020s, we should expect these views to continue in the generations to follow, and indeed to become more severe.

The most important change we can make to reduce the damaging effects of social media on children is to delay entry until they have passed through puberty. Congress should update the Children’s Online Privacy Protection Act, which unwisely set the age of so-called internet adulthood (the age at which companies can collect personal information from children without parental consent) at 13 back in 1998, while making little provision for effective enforcement. The age should be raised to at least 16, and companies should be held responsible for enforcing it.

More generally, to prepare the members of the next generation for post-Babel democracy, perhaps the most important thing we can do is let them out to play. Stop starving children of the experiences they most need to become good citizens: free play in mixed-age groups of children with minimal adult supervision. Every state should follow the lead of Utah, Oklahoma, and Texas and pass a version of the Free-Range Parenting Law that helps assure parents that they will not be investigated for neglect if their 8- or 9-year-old children are spotted playing in a park. With such laws in place, schools, educators, and public-health authorities should then encourage parents to let their kids walk to school and play in groups outside, just as more kids used to do.

Hope After Babel

The story i have told is bleak, and there is little evidence to suggest that America will return to some semblance of normalcy and stability in the next five or 10 years. Which side is going to become conciliatory? What is the likelihood that Congress will enact major reforms that strengthen democratic institutions or detoxify social media?

Yet when we look away from our dysfunctional federal government, disconnect from social media, and talk with our neighbors directly, things seem more hopeful. Most Americans in the More in Common report are members of the “exhausted majority,” which is tired of the fighting and is willing to listen to the other side and compromise. Most Americans now see that social media is having a negative impact on the country, and are becoming more aware of its damaging effects on children.

Will we do anything about it?

When Tocqueville toured the United States in the 1830s, he was impressed by the American habit of forming voluntary associations to fix local problems, rather than waiting for kings or nobles to act, as Europeans would do. That habit is still with us today. In recent years, Americans have started hundreds of groups and organizations dedicated to building trust and friendship across the political divide, including BridgeUSA, Braver Angels (on whose board I serve), and many others listed at We cannot expect Congress and the tech companies to save us. We must change ourselves and our communities.

What would it be like to live in Babel in the days after its destruction? We know. It is a time of confusion and loss. But it is also a time to reflect, listen, and build.

Debates quinzenais

No passado dia 11 de fevereiro, publiquei este artigo no Semanário O Diabo – A hora da verdade – onde abordei o que considerava ser importante para que o PS revertesse o neo-socialismo que o vinha a caracterizar de modo a regressar ao socialismo democrático. Um dos pontos que referi foi a questão da valorização do papel do Parlamento no escrutínio ao poder executivo.

Nesse âmbito, expressei o seguinte:

1. Outro dos sinais que António Costa pode dar está relacionado com a valorização do papel do Parlamento. António Costa referiu uma maioria absoluta de diálogo. Pois muito bem. Nem António Costa, nem nenhum socialista pode negar que o Parlamento sempre foi um fórum de discussão e de debate. É-o desde os tempos imemoriais que nos remetem à sua génese.

2. Mais recentemente, com a democracia representativa, os parlamentos adquiriram importância suplementar como o centro por excelência do debate político. É no Parlamento, a casa do poder legislativo, que os titulares do poder executivo prestam contas sobre as suas decisões. Ao fazê-lo, não respondem apenas aos deputados. Respondem igualmente aos portugueses por eles representados, incluindo os que elegeram os deputados da oposição.

3. O líder de um governo maioritário, especialmente no contexto dum regime democrático, não deve ter qualquer razão para se opor ao escrutínio. Pelo contrário. Precisamente para reforçar os principais fundamentos da democracia – o Estado de Direito e o Princípio da Separação dos Poderes – é nos momentos em que a voz da oposição é mais ténue e frágil que a mesma deve ser protegida é potenciada.

4. LORD ACTON disse que “o melhor teste para avaliar até que ponto um Estado é realmente livre é pelo nível de segurança usufruído pelas suas minorias”.  Num contexto de maioria absoluta, o melhor teste para avaliar até que ponto um Estado é democrático é pelo nível da liberdade de expressão dada à oposição.

5. O retomar dos debates quinzenais representará um aumento de qualidade da democracia portuguesa.


A Iniciativa Liberal apresentou ontem uma proposta para que os debates quinzenais com o Primeiro-Ministro voltem a ser uma das bandeira da democracia portuguesa.

Veremos agora até que ponto a tal maioria absoluta de diálogo era intencional e sincera.

Viva a Democracia!

A democracia é mais difícil de manter do que conquistar. Todos os dias é necessário fazer algo para a manter viva.

É assim que celebro a Democracia. Diariamente!

Breve reflexão sobre alguns cenários

O resultado das legislativas de 30 de janeiro vai alterar vários pontos na dinâmica política que tínhamos como adquirida. O vector de todas essas mudanças está na maioria absoluta alcançada por António Costa. Não tenham a menor dúvida que o exercício do poder será pleno, ou seja, será praticado maximizando toda a abrangência possível.

Como tal, a probabilidade de se verificar uma deslocação do centro da importância das questões legislativas, e das votações a elas adstritas, para o debate e as discussões dos diplomas é altíssima. Isto significa que o parlamento, que é um fórum de discussão e de debate desde tempos imemoriais, vai passar a ser ainda mais o centro de excelência do debate político. Isto significa que a comunicação dos conteúdos em discussão será fundamental.

O tempo do conseguimos fazer isto acabou. No caso da IL, para exemplificar concretamente, “o conseguimos acabar com o cartão do adepto” acabou. Com a maioria socialista e a previsível utilização desse poder acrescido – note-se que António Costa foi capaz de tomar conta da maioria dos reguladores, ou melhor, partidarizar os reguladores, sem essa maioria – será a discussão política que poderá potenciar a afirmação política da oposição. Para esse efeito, os “debates quinzenais” serão estruturais para a IL retirar dividendos políticos.

Os condicionalismos da segunda circunstância são substancialmente maiores. O escrutínio ao poder executivo é fundamental. Num contexto governativo com maioria absoluta é essencial que exista uma efectiva capacidade de escrutínio parlamentar. Mas como fazê-lo?

Sabemos que a primeira função de um deputado, como titular do poder legislativo, é escrutinar o governo por este deter o poder executivo. Porém, a prática demonstra que os primeiros a desrespeitar essa função são os deputados do partido que governa. O PSD anda à deriva e não é verdadeira oposição. A esquerda extremista não conta. Só vão procurar estancar as feridas e continuar a comer algumas migalhas. Como o Chega não tem projecto político, a oposição será meramente de protesto (não creio que o PS altere a sua estratégia de comunicação contra o Chega).

Tudo indica que a capacidade de escrutínio vai ser menor. Para além disso, como referi acima, se o foco vai passar a estar na discussão, ter meios para divulgar e comunicar as posições políticas da IL vai ser primordial. Sabendo-se que a comunicação social é fundamentalmente de esquerda e que é praticamente controlada pela geringonça (pouco se alterou neste âmbito), será vital desenvolver ou criar formas de ultrapassar um bloqueio mediático para potenciar e maximizar a visibilidade política da IL.

(Há outros pontos a considerar mas, como são sobre a realidade interna da IL, não os abordarei aqui).

Xi’s Gamble –

The Race to Consolidate Power and Stave Off Disaster

By Jude Blanchette

Xi Jinping is a man on a mission. After coming to power in late 2012, he moved rapidly to consolidate his political authority, purge the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) of rampant corruption, sideline his enemies, tame China’s once highflying technology and financial conglomerates, crush internal dissent, and forcefully assert China’s influence on the international stage. In the name of protecting China’s “core interests,” Xi has picked fights with many of his neighbors and antagonized countries farther away—especially the United States. Whereas his immediate predecessors believed China must continue to bide its time by overseeing rapid economic growth and the steady expansion of China’s influence through tactical integration into the existing global order, Xi is impatient with the status quo, possesses a high tolerance for risk, and seems to feel a pronounced sense of urgency in challenging the international order.

Why is he in such a rush? Most observers have settled on one of two diametrically opposite hypotheses. The first holds that Xi is driving a wide range of policy initiatives aimed at nothing less than the remaking of the global order on terms favorable to the CCP. The other view asserts that he is the anxious overseer of a creaky and outdated Leninist political system that is struggling to keep its grip on power. Both narratives contain elements of truth, but neither satisfactorily explains the source of Xi’s sense of urgency.

A more accurate explanation is that Xi’s calculations are determined not by his aspirations or fears but by his timeline. Put simply, Xi has consolidated so much power and upset the status quo with such force because he sees a narrow window of ten to 15 years during which Beijing can take advantage of a set of important technological and geopolitical transformations, which will also help it overcome significant internal challenges. Xi sees the convergence of strong demographic headwinds, a structural economic slowdown, rapid advances in digital technologies, and a perceived shift in the global balance of power away from the United States as what he has called “profound changes unseen in a century,” demanding a bold set of immediate responses.

By narrowing his vision to the coming ten to 15 years, Xi has instilled a sense of focus and determination in the Chinese political system that may well enable China to overcome long-standing domestic challenges and achieve a new level of global centrality. If Xi succeeds, China will position itself as an architect of an emerging era of multipolarity, its economy will escape the so-called middle-income trap, and the technological capabilities of its manufacturing sector and military will rival those of more developed countries.

Yet ambition and execution are not the same thing, and Xi has now placed China on a risky trajectory, one that threatens the achievements his predecessors secured in the post-Mao era. His belief that the CCP must guide the economy and that Beijing should rein in the private sector will constrain the country’s future economic growth. His demand that party cadres adhere to ideological orthodoxy and demonstrate personal loyalty to him will undermine the governance system’s flexibility and competency. His emphasis on an expansive definition of national security will steer the country in a more inward and paranoid direction. His unleashing of “Wolf Warrior” nationalism will produce a more aggressive and isolated China. Finally, Xi’s increasingly singular position within China’s political system will forestall policy alternatives and course corrections, a problem made worse by his removal of term limits and the prospect of his indefinite rule.

Xi believes he can mold China’s future as did the emperors of the country’s storied past. He mistakes this hubris for confidence—and no one dares tell him otherwise. An environment in which an all-powerful leader with a single-minded focus cannot hear uncomfortable truths is a recipe for disaster, as China’s modern history has demonstrated all too well.


In retrospect, Xi’s compressed timeline was clear from the start of his tenure. China had become accustomed to the pace of his predecessor, the slow and staid Hu Jintao, and many expected Xi to follow suit, albeit with a greater emphasis on economic reform. Yet within months of taking the reins in 2012, Xi began to reorder the domestic political and economic landscape. First came a top-to-bottom housecleaning of the CCP. The party had repeatedly demonstrated its ability to weather domestic storms, but pressures were building within the system. Corruption had become endemic, leading to popular dissatisfaction and the breakdown of organizational discipline. The party’s ranks were growing rapidly but were increasingly filled with individuals who didn’t share Xi’s belief in the CCP’s exceptionalism. Party cells in state-owned enterprises, private companies, and nongovernmental organizations were dormant and disorganized. Senior-level decision-making had become uncoordinated and siloed. The party’s propaganda organs struggled to project their messages to an increasingly cynical and tech-savvy citizenry.

Xi took on all these problems simultaneously. In 2013 alone, he initiated a sweeping anticorruption drive, launched a “mass line” campaign to eliminate political pluralism and liberal ideologies from public discourse, announced new guidelines restricting the growth of the party’s membership, and added new ideological requirements for would-be party members. The size of the party mattered little, he believed, if it was not made up of true believers. After all, he noted, when the Soviet Union was on the brink of collapse in the early 1990s, “proportionally, the Soviet Communist Party had more members than [the CCP], but nobody was man enough to stand up and resist.”

Next on Xi’s agenda was the need to assert China’s interests on the global stage. Xi quickly began land reclamation efforts in the South China Sea, established an air defense identification zone over disputed territory in the East China Sea, helped launch the New Development Bank (sometimes called the BRICS Bank), unveiled the massive international infrastructure project that came to be known as the Belt and Road Initiative, and proposed the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank.

Xi continued to slash his way through the status quo for the remainder of his first term and shows no signs of abating as he approaches the end of his second. His consolidation of power continues uninterrupted: he faces no genuine political rivals, has removed term limits on his tenure in office, and has installed allies and loyalists in key positions. New research centers are dedicated to studying his writings and speeches, party officials publicly extol his wisdom and virtue, and party regulations and government planning documents increasingly claim to be based on “Xi Jinping Thought.” He has asserted the CCP’s dominance over vast swaths of Chinese society and economic life, even forcing influential business and technology titans to beg forgiveness for their insufficient loyalty to the party. Meanwhile, he continues to expand China’s international sphere of influence through the exercise of hard power, economic coercion, and deep integration into international and multilateral bodies.

Many outside observers, myself included, initially believed that the party’s inability to contain the outbreak of COVID-19 highlighted the weaknesses of China’s system. By the summer of 2020, however, Xi was able to extol the virtues of centralized control in checking the pandemic’s domestic spread. Far from undermining his political authority, Beijing’s iron-fisted approach to combating the virus has now become a point of national pride.


Xi’s fast pace was provoked by a convergence of geopolitical, demographic, economic, environmental, and technological changes. The risks they pose are daunting, but not yet existential; Beijing has a window of opportunity to address them before they become fatal. And the potential rewards they offer are considerable.

The first major change is Beijing’s assessment that the power and influence of the West have entered a phase of accelerated decline, and as a result, a new era of multipolarity has begun, one that China could shape more to its liking. This view took hold as the U.S. wars in Afghanistan and Iraq became quagmires, and it solidified in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis, which the Chinese leadership saw as the death knell for U.S. global prestige. In 2016, the British vote to leave the European Union and the election of Donald Trump as president in the United States fortified the consensus view that the United States, and the West more generally, was in decline. This might suggest that China could opt for strategic patience and simply allow American power to wane. But the possibility of a renewal of U.S. leadership brought about by the advent of the Biden administration—and concerns about Xi’s mortality (he will be 82 in 2035)—means that Beijing is unwilling to wait and see how long this phase of Western decline will last.

The second important force confronting Xi is China’s deteriorating demographic and economic outlook. By the time he assumed office, China’s population was simultaneously aging and shrinking, and the country was facing an imminent surge of retirees that would stress the country’s relatively weak health-care and pension systems. The Chinese Academy of Social Sciences now expects China’s population to peak in 2029, and a recent study in The Lancet forecast that it will shrink by nearly 50 percent by the end of the century. Although Beijing ended its draconian one-child policy in 2016, the country has still recorded a 15 percent decline in births during the past 12 months. Meanwhile, the government estimates that by 2033, nearly one-third of the population will be over the age of 60.

Contributing to these woes is China’s shrinking workforce and rising wages, which have increased by ten percent, on average, since 2005. Larger paychecks are good for workers, but global manufacturers are increasingly moving their operations out of China and to lower-cost countries, leaving a rising number of low-skilled workers in China unemployed or underemployed. And because only 12.5 percent of China’s labor force has graduated from college (compared with 24 percent in the United States), positioning the bulk of the country’s workforce to compete for the high-skilled jobs of the future will be an uphill battle.

Directly related to this worrying demographic picture is the slowdown of China’s economy. With annual GDP growth having dropped from a high of 14 percent in 2007 to the mid-single digits today, many of the long-standing problems Beijing had been able to sweep under the rug now require attention and a willingness to accept economic and political pain, from unwinding the vast sea of indebted companies to demanding that firms and individuals pay more into the country’s tax coffers. At the heart of China’s growth woes is flagging productivity. Throughout the first several decades of the post-Mao reform period, realizing productivity gains was relatively straightforward, as the planned economy was dissolved in favor of market forces and droves of citizens voluntarily fled the countryside for urban and coastal areas and the promise of higher-wage jobs. Later, as foreign companies brought investment, technology, and know-how to the country, industrial efficiency continued to improve. Finally, the massive amounts spent on infrastructure, especially roads and rail, boosted connectivity and thus productivity. All of this helped a poor and primarily agricultural economy rapidly catch up with more advanced economies.

Yet by the time Xi assumed power, policymakers were finding it increasingly difficult to maintain momentum without creating unsustainable levels of debt, just as they had done in response to the 2008 global financial crisis. What is more, the country was already saturated with transportation infrastructure, so an additional mile of road or high-speed rail wasn’t going to add much to growth. And because almost all able-bodied workers had already moved from the countryside to urban areas, relocating labor wouldn’t arrest the decline in productivity, either. Finally, the social and environmental costs of China’s previous growth paradigm had become both unsustainable and destabilizing, as staggering air pollution and environmental devastation provoked acute anger among Chinese citizens.

Perhaps the most consequential shifts to have occurred on Xi’s watch are advances in new technologies such as artificial intelligence, robotics, and biomedical engineering, among others. Xi believes that dominating the “commanding heights” of these new tools will play a critical role in China’s economic, military, and geopolitical fate, and he has mobilized the party to transform the country into a high-tech powerhouse. This includes expending vast sums to develop the country’s R & D and production capabilities in technologies deemed critical to national security, from semiconductors to batteries. As Xi stated in 2014, first-mover advantage will go to “whoever holds the nose of the ox of science and technology innovation.”

Xi also hopes that new technologies can help the CCP overcome, or at least circumvent, nearly all of China’s domestic challenges. The negative impacts of a shrinking workforce, he believes, can be blunted by an aggressive push toward automation, and job losses in traditional industries can be offset by opportunities in newer, high-tech sectors. “Whether we can stiffen our back in the international arena and cross the ‘middle-income trap’ depends to a large extent on the improvement of science and technology innovation capability,” Xi said in 2014.

New technologies serve other purposes, as well. Facial recognition tools and artificial intelligence give China’s internal security organs new ways to surveil citizens and suppress dissent. The party’s “military-civil fusion” strategy strives to harness these new technologies to significantly bolster the Chinese military’s warfighting capabilities. And advances in green technology offer the prospect of simultaneously pursuing economic growth and pollution abatement, two goals Beijing has generally seen as being in tension.


This convergence of changes and developments would have occurred regardless of who assumed power in China in 2012. Perhaps another leader would have undertaken a similarly bold agenda. Yet among contemporary Chinese political figures, Xi has demonstrated an unrivaled skill for bureaucratic infighting. And he clearly believes that he is a figure of historical significance, on whom the CCP’s fate rests.

In order to push forward significant change, Xi has overseen the construction of a new political order, one underpinned by a massive increase in the power and authority of the CCP. Yet beyond this elevation of party power, perhaps Xi’s most critical legacy will be his expansive redefinition of national security. His advocacy of a “comprehensive national security concept” emerged in early 2014, and in a speech that April, he announced that China faced “the most complicated internal and external factors in its history.” Although this was clearly hyperbole—war with the United States in Korea and the nationwide famine of the late 1950s were more complicated—Xi’s message to the political system was clear: a new era of risk and uncertainty confronts the party.

The CCP’s long experience of defections, attempted coups, and subversion by outside actors predisposes it to acute paranoia, something that reached a fever pitch in the Mao era. Xi risks institutionalizing this paranoid style. One result of blurring the line between internal and external security has been threat inflation: party cadres in low-crime, low-risk areas now issue warnings of terrorism, “color revolutions,” and “Christian infiltration.” In Xinjiang, fears of separatism have been used to justify turning the entire region into a dystopian high-tech prison. And in Hong Kong, Xi has established a “national security” bureaucracy that can ignore local laws and operate in total secrecy as it weeds out perceived threats to Beijing’s iron-fisted rule. In both places, Xi has demonstrated that he is willing to accept international opprobrium when he feels that the party’s core interests are at stake.

At home, Xi stokes nationalist sentiment by framing China as surrounded and besieged by enemies, exploiting a deeply emotional (and highly distorted) view of the past, and romanticizing China’s battles against the Japanese in World War II and its “victory” over the United States in the Korean War. By warning that China has entered a period of heightened risk from “hostile foreign forces,” Xi is attempting to accommodate Chinese citizens to the idea of more difficult times ahead and ensure that the party and he himself are viewed as stabilizing forces.

Xi has placed China on a risky trajectory, one that threatens the achievements his predecessors secured.

Meanwhile, to exploit a perceived window of opportunity during an American retreat from global affairs, Beijing has advanced aggressively on multiple foreign policy fronts. These include the use of “gray zone” tactics, such as employing commercial fishing boats to assert territorial interests in the South China Sea and establishing China’s first overseas military base, in Djibouti. China’s vast domestic market has allowed Xi to threaten countries that don’t demonstrate political and diplomatic obedience, as evidenced by Beijing’s recent campaign of economic coercion against Australia in response to Canberra’s call for an independent investigation into the origins of the virus that causes COVID-19. Similarly, Xi has encouraged Chinese “Wolf Warrior” diplomats to intimidate and harass host countries that criticize or otherwise antagonize China. Earlier this year, Beijing levied sanctions against Jo Smith Finley, a British anthropologist and political scientist who studies Xinjiang, and the Mercator Institute for China Studies, a German think tank, whose work the CCP claimed had “severely harm[ed] China’s sovereignty and interests.”

Mao Zedong and Deng Xiaoping demonstrated strategic patience in asserting China’s interests on the global stage. Indeed, Mao told U.S. President Richard Nixon that China could wait 100 years to reclaim Taiwan, and Deng negotiated the return of Hong Kong under the promise (since broken by Xi) of a 50-year period of local autonomy. Both leaders had a profound sense of China’s relative fragility and the importance of careful, nuanced statesmanship. Xi does not share their equanimity, or their confidence in long-term solutions.

That has sparked concerns that Xi will attempt an extraordinarily risky gambit to take Taiwan by force by 2027, the 100th anniversary of the founding of the People’s Liberation Army. It seems doubtful, however, that he would invite a possible military conflict with the United States just 110 miles from China’s shoreline. Assuming the PLA were successful in overcoming Taiwan’s defenses, to say nothing of surmounting possible U.S. involvement, Xi would then have to carry out a military occupation against sustained resistance for an indeterminate length of time. An attempted takeover of Taiwan would undermine nearly all of Xi’s other global and domestic ambitions. Nevertheless, although the more extreme scenarios might remain unlikely for the time being, Xi will continue to have China flaunt its strength in its neighborhood and push outward in pursuit of its interests. On many issues, he appears to want final resolution on his watch.


Xi’s tendency to believe he can shape the precise course of China’s trajectory calls to mind the economist Adam Smith’s description of “the man of system”: a leader “so enamored with the supposed beauty of his own ideal plan of government, that he cannot suffer the smallest deviation from any part of it.” In order to realize his near-term goals, Xi has abandoned the invisible hand of the market and forged an economic system that relies on state actors to reach predetermined objectives.

Critical to this shift has been Xi’s reliance on industrial policy, a tool of economic statecraft that had fallen out of favor until near the end of the tenure of Xi’s predecessor, Hu, when it began to shape Beijing’s approach to technological innovation. The year 2015 marked an important inflection point, with the introduction of supersized industrial policy programs that sought not just to advance a given technology or industry but also to remake the entire structure of the economy. These included the Made in China 2025 plan, which aims to upgrade China’s manufacturing capabilities in a number of important sectors; the Internet Plus strategy, a scheme to integrate information technology into more traditional industries; and the 14th Five-Year Plan, which outlines an ambitious agenda to decrease China’s reliance on foreign technology inputs. Through such policies, Beijing channels tens of trillions of yuan into companies, technologies, and sectors it considers strategically significant. It does this by means of direct subsidies, tax rebates, and quasi-market “government guidance funds,” which resemble state-controlled venture capital firms.

Thus far, Beijing’s track record in this area is decidedly mixed: in many cases, vast sums of investment have produced meager returns. But as the economist Barry Naughton has cautioned, “Chinese industrial policies are so large, and so new, that we are not yet in a position to evaluate them. They may turn out to be successful, but it is also possible that they will turn out to be disastrous.”

Xi believes he can mold China’s future as did the emperors of the country’s storied past.

Related to this industrial policy is Xi’s approach to China’s private-sector companies, including many of the technological and financial giants that just a few years ago observers viewed as possible agents of political and social change. Technological innovation put firms such as Ant Group and Tencent in control of critical new data flows and financial technology. Xi clearly perceived this as an unacceptable threat, as demonstrated by the CCP’s recent spiking of Ant Group’s initial public offering in the wake of comments made by its founder, Jack Ma, that many perceived as critical of the party.

Xi is willing to forgo a boost in China’s international financial prestige to protect the party’s interests and send a signal to business elites: the party comes first. This is no David and Goliath story, however. It’s more akin to a family feud, given the close and enduring connections between China’s nominally private firms and its political system. Indeed, nearly all of China’s most successful entrepreneurs are members of the CCP, and for many companies, success depends on favors granted by the party, including protection from foreign competition. But whereas previous Chinese leaders granted wide latitude to the private sector, Xi has forcefully drawn a line. Doing so has further restricted the country’s ability to innovate. No matter how sophisticated Beijing’s regulators and state investors may be, sustained innovation and gains in productivity cannot occur without a vibrant private sector.


In order to seize temporary advantages and forestall domestic challenges, Xi has positioned himself for a 15-year race, one for which he has mobilized the awesome capabilities of a system that he now commands unchallenged. Xi’s truncated time frame compels a sense of urgency that will define Beijing’s policy agenda, risk tolerance, and willingness to compromise as it sprints ahead. This will narrow the options available to countries hoping to shape China’s behavior or hoping that the “Wolf Warrior” attitude will naturally recede.

The United States can disprove Beijing’s contention that its democracy has atrophied and that Washington’s star is dimming by strengthening the resilience of American society and improving the competence of the U.S. government. If the United States and its allies invest in innovation and human capital, they can forestall Xi’s efforts to gain first-mover advantage in emerging and critical technologies. Likewise, a more active and forward-looking U.S. role in shaping the global order would limit Beijing’s ability to spread illiberal ideas beyond China’s borders.

Unwittingly, Xi has put China into competition with itself, in a race to determine if its many strengths can outstrip the pathologies that Xi himself has introduced to the system. By the time he assumed power, the CCP had established a fairly predictable process for the regular and peaceful transition of power. Next fall, the 20th Party Congress will be held, and normally, a leader who has been in charge as long as Xi has would step aside. To date, however, there is no expectation that Xi will do so. This is an extraordinarily risky move, not just for the CCP itself but also for the future of China. With no successor in sight, if Xi dies unexpectedly in the next decade, the country could be thrown into chaos.

Even assuming that Xi remains healthy while in power, the longer his tenure persists, the more the CCP will resemble a cult of personality, as it did under Mao. Elements of this are already evident, with visible sycophancy among China’s political class now the norm. Paeans to the greatness of “Xi Jinping Thought” may strike outsiders as merely curious or even comical, but they have a genuinely deleterious effect on the quality of decision-making and information flows within the party.

It would be ironic, and tragic, if Xi, a leader with a mission to save the party and the country, instead imperiled both. His current course threatens to undo the great progress China has made over the past four decades. In the end, Xi may be correct that the next decade will determine China’s long-term success. What he likely does not understand is that he himself may be the biggest obstacle.

Não Passarão

A liberdade é uma dádiva. É algo a que todo e qualquer ser humano aspira.

Ainda bem que os partidos que defendem a repressão e a obediência se expressam livremente. É fundamental sermos relembrados do valor da liberdade.

Não podemos esmorecer, nem dar a democracia como adquirida. É mais fácil conquistar a liberdade do que a manter.

Em Portugal,
4 anos de liberalismo
têm mais significado
do que 100 anos de comunismo

Mais Democracia, Mais Liberdade

Pode ser uma imagem de 2 pessoas e texto que diz "IL AVISOU: UM ANO DE ATAQUES À DEMOCRACIA Portugal desceu de "país totalmente democrático" para 'democracia com falhas"* Restrições inconstitucionais no combate à pandemia Substituição do Presidente do Tribunal de Contas Nomeação de Centeno para ဝ Banco de Portugal Diretiva da PGR sobre subordinação hierárquica Escolha do candidato a Procurador Europeu Fim dos debates quinzenais na AR iniciativa Liberal Jornalistas vigiados a mando do MP Acusações de anti-patriotismo à oposição política democrática *Fonte: Democracy Index, The Economist Intelligence Unit Recebe os nossos conteúdos no WhatsApp: Receber para 920 563 111 iniciativa liberal"

Portugal é hoje um país menos democrático. Mas esta perversão não se deve apenas ao PS. Sem o apoio do PSD e a passividade, que pode ser confundida com obediência, do Presidente da República seria muito difícil concretizar algumas destas medidas.

Há anos que era notório que o nível de pluralismo estava a diminuir na sociedade portuguesa. A causa identifica-se facilmente. O fenómeno grassava no interior dos partidos políticos portugueses democráticos (PS, PSD e CDS-PP). Salvo algumas excepções, as aclamações passaram a caracterizar a eleição dos respectivos líderes. A troca de ideias passou a ser secundária e aqueles que disputavam as eleições internas, após a derrota viam os seus apoiantes ser ostracizados e as suas bandeiras atomizadas. E não haveria qualquer vestígio de posições contrárias nas listas às eleições. Pelo menos, em lugares elegíveis.

Esta foi uma das razões que me fez estar na fundação da Iniciativa Liberal. E continua a ser um dos motivos para que a minha militância seja activa. Não pactuo com demagogias e não estou disponível para permitir que o nosso país ceda ao conformismo. Não aceito limitações às liberdades do cidadão, nem a infalibilidade dos líderes providenciais, especialmente quando estes não aceitam assumir a responsabilidade pelas suas decisões.

Vai levar tempo, mas iremos alterar esta cultura não democrática que tomou conta de Portugal. Não duvidem da nossa resolução. Não duvidem da nossa determinação.

Vejam as diferenças

Já ouviu falar na CICDR – Comissão Para a Igualdade e Contra a Discriminação Racial? Devia informar-se sobre esta comissão e sobre o papel do Mamadou Ba na mesma.



Após assistir aos debates de André Ventura com Sá Fernandes e Sousa Tavares, três coisas parecem-me evidentes.

Primeiro, dificilmente haverá debate e discussão calma com André Ventura. O registo de postura e de comportamento dele nos temas políticos é o mesmo que utiliza para falar de futebol.

Segundo, André Ventura é muito mais inseguro do que parece. Se realmente estivesse certo do que diz não sentia a necessidade de interromper permanentemente o seu interlocutor para justificar toda e qualquer coisa que afirma ou que ouve.

Terceiro, André Ventura é impulsivo e, quando confrontado, entra em contradição.

Naturalmente, isto não significa que não tenha razão em nada. Mas aqueles que hoje forem referidos por Ventura, amanhã sofrerão as consequências…


Devidamente corrigido

Cat Mar1

Que não haja engano. Boas trevas!

Oposição à Rui Rio

A imagem pode conter: 4 pessoas, pessoas a sorrir, texto

Rui Rio é incapaz de lidar com as suas próprias limitações e em vez de promover a unidade do partido faz isto.

Mas não se pode negar originalidade.

25 de Novembro de 1975

R Eanes Jaime Neves

Ramalho Eanes e Jaime Neves


Faz hoje 42 anos que Portugal se tornou uma democracia.

Muito se deve a estes dois Homens!

Democracy Requirement(s)


To President Trump, as it was to his predecessors, all that is, or should be, obligatory are decisions in accordance with his own conscience and within the limits of the law. Nothing more is required. He is entitled to decide as he sees fit and not as we would prefer.

I do accept his democratic victory. However, such acceptance does not mean that I must endorse his decisions. In fact, regardless of my political affiliations, I consider my foremost duty not to blindly accept every political decision.

Question our elected leaders, either the President, Senators, or Congressmen, is a fundamental prerequisite of democracy. And especially the leaders of our own political party and/or affiliation should and have to be questioned.

So, when facing a decision with which I disagree, I will always express my viewpoint without ever trying to impose it.

Ao Presidente Trump, tal como com os seus predecessores, tudo o que é, ou deve ser, exigido são decisões de acordo com a sua consciência em conformidade com os limites da lei. Nada mais é exigível, pois ele pode decidir como entender e não como nós preferiríamos.

Eu aceito a sua vitória eleitoral. Contudo, a minha aceitação não implica um apoio às suas decisões. Na verdade, independentemente das minhas posições políticas, considero ser o meu maior dever não aceitar cegamente toda e qualquer decisão política.

Questionar os nossos representantes eleitos, seja o Presidente, o Primeiro-Ministro ou os Deputados, é um pré-requisito essencial da democracia. E devem particularmente ser questionados os líderes do nosso próprio partido ou afiliação política.

Assim, perante uma decisão com a qual discordo, expressarei sempre a minha opinião sem nunca a impor.

Sem responsabilidade não há liberdade!



Eis algo que muita boa gente, incluindo alguns presidentes, não compreende.

Pior, recusam-se a aceitar!

Trumpismo. Facto alternativo?


Eu sei o que são realidades alternativas ou universos paralelos. Mas, “factos alternativos”? Que diabo são “factos alternativos”?

Devemos prepararmo-nos para uma nova ordem? A Verdadeira Nova Ordem! Onde a realidade é ficção e os “factos alternativos”, definidos propositadamente, constituem a única maneira de entender o mundo ou de a ele pertencer?

Ou estaremos apenas a reviver o passado? Alguém se recorda da segunda ameaça vermelha, o conturbado período, mais conhecido por macartismo, que assolou os Estados Unidos da América nos anos de 1950 a 1957? O macartismo, que foi definido como a “prática de fazer alegações injustas ou utilizar técnicas investigativas injustas, especialmente para restringir o dissenso ou a crítica política” e que ainda hoje representa um indubitável retrocesso no que respeita às liberdades civis e aos direitos individuais, começou a definhar devido à coragem e postura do jornalista Edward R. Murrow, que, à época, afirmou: “Não devemos confundir dissidência com deslealdade. Devemos lembrar-nos sempre que a acusação não é prova e que a convicção depende de provas e do devido processo legal”.

Trump está, como bem observou a Helena Coelho, em guerra aberta com a imprensa. Mas não só. Trump agride e descarta todos aqueles que não concordam com ele. Trump não está disponível para a pluralidade de opiniões. Daí que prefira o twitter, onde não há diálogo, mas monólogo. Ora, apesar de este comportamento não ser uma novidade em Trump, a verdade é que se acentuou a partir do anúncio da sua candidatura à Presidência dos EUA e que, após a sua eleição, parece que se irá estabelecer como a norma vigente.

Terá o trumpismo as mesmas consequências do macartismo? A pergunta é pertinente. Inquestionavelmente, verificam-se não apenas as mesmas práticas de acusações parcamente fundamentadas, como também as ofensas demagógicas ao caráter dos adversários, sejam estes políticos ou não. Para além disso, convém não esquecer que os tempos são outros e que a amplitude das liberdades individuais e dos direitos cívicos foi consideravelmente limitada nos EUA com a entrada em vigor do Patriot Act. Finalmente, não se verificando aqui a execução de uma estratégia pensada, mas somente a aplicação de uma maneira distorcida de entender a democracia e considerando a atitude fracturante do «ou estás comigo ou contra mim», «se não estás bem, muda-te» (ou serás expulso), o trumpismo, e as suas regras, não auguram um bom futuro para a democracia norte-americana.

Circunstâncias anteriormente erradicadas, que representaram retrocessos sociais significativos, parecem estar a reerguer-se do túmulo. Ao lado do populismo que hoje se afirma, o comunismo dos anos 50 do século passado não passa duma ténue ameaça. E como se o populismo já não fosse perigoso, o populismo-elite, praticado por Trump, contém em si efeitos ainda mais nefastos.

Existe, efectivamente, uma tendência para a mimética que reproduz determinados ciclos. Oxalá os defensores da pluralidade e da diferença de opinião não desvaneçam. Oxalá a imprensa persista. Oxalá a verdade não desapareça.

Só assim poderá ser evitada a instituição definitiva da corporacia. Não a considerada por Derber, Sachs ou Winters, entre outros, mas antes uma oligarquia travestida que mais não seria do que a versão capitalista da visão de Trotsky.

Uma coisa é certa. O Trumpismo não é um “facto alternativo”. É real e perigoso.

Da confiança na lei


Um dos principais elementos de estabilidade da democracia é a confiança que os cidadãos depositam nas leis que os regem. E embora seja natural que o correr dos tempos, que a evolução do convívio social e que o desenvolvimento tecnológico impliquem actualizações dos conteúdos dos diversos articulados da lei, existem limites quanto aos motivos que justificam  essa adequação.

Em Portugal, a relação de confiança entre os eleitores e os seus representantes eleitos não é positiva. O nível de desconfiança entre estes e aqueles é elevado. Logo, o que seria de esperar do governo português era a introdução e a aplicação de medidas que diminuíssem este diferencial. Se a democracia já fica fragilizada com a desconfiança entre cidadãos e governantes, ficará muito mais corroída se os cidadãos deixarem de confiar na lei.

Já por variadas vezes vários governos portugueses modificaram a lei segundo os seus interesses. Mas, alterar a lei apenas para colocar pessoas em determinados lugares é ultrapassar os limites do razoável.

Não posso dizer que António Costa esteja a abrir a caixa de Pandora. Mas que está a escancará-la, está!

E posso reafirmar que o governo português volta a testar os limites da subversão.

Dos limites da subversão


A Autoridade Tributária e Aduaneira, vulgo fisco, planeia ter acesso total às contas bancárias dos contribuintes portugueses em 2017. Visando tal fim, Rocha Andrade, Secretário de Estado dos Assuntos Fiscais (SEAF), remeteu um anteprojecto de Decreto-Lei à apreciação da Comissão Nacional da Protecção de Dados (CNPD). Datado de 5 de Julho, o parecer n.º 22/2016, da CNPD, é demolidor com o conteúdo do anteprojecto do Governo, salientando, para além da inconstitucionalidade, a violação dos direitos fundamentais e da reserva da vida privada.

Sagazmente, a CNPD, que já percebeu que o governo, por acção do SEAF, irá legislar neste sentido, recomendou a inclusão de um mecanismo que previna a repetição de situações passadas. Infelizmente, avisos como estes dificilmente serão seguidos por este governo. O seu registo de respeito pela legislação, principalmente no que respeita ao comportamento dos seus membros, fala por si. Há ViPs e VIPs!

Perante esta postura, poderíamos ser levados a pensar que somos governados por desconfiados. Afinal de contas, independentemente duma eventual mimética comportamental praticada por alguns cidadãos, o governo parece não confiar nos contribuintes e aparenta partir do princípio que os portugueses enganam e escondem. Todavia, isto não é apenas uma questão de desconfiança.

Se tivermos em consideração alguns dos significados do termo subversão – a)Insubordinação; oposição a normas, autoridades, instituições, leis; b) Perturbação; ação ou efeito de perturbar o desenvolvimento normal de alguma coisa; c) Conjunto dos procedimentos que visam a queda de um sistema político, econômico ou social: subversão política; d) Destruição; ação de destruir, de aniquilar, de derrubar; e) Alteração ou aniquilamento de uma ordem estabelecida – poderíamos igualmente ser levados a pensar que somos governados por uns meros insubordinados. Contudo, também não estamos perante um simples desrespeito pela lei.

Não. O contexto é mais complexo. Implica uma dimensão psicológica.

Em psicologia, «projecção» é um termo utilizado para descrever um mecanismo de defesa pelo qual uma pessoa atribui a terceiros as suas próprias características e/ou motivações, particularmente mentais e emocionais, independentemente das mesmas serem indesejáveis ou inaceitáveis.

Para além duma propensão natural para o controlo do individuo que se verifica na ideologia socialista, a verdade é que o Governo toma iniciativas como esta porque os seus membros não são de confiança. Continuamente são apanhados na prática de comportamentos reprováveis que demonstram um comportamento de abuso de poder, de dissimulação e de engano e, sobretudo, de sucessivo desrespeito pelas normas. Infelizmente, este tipo de comportamento tem uma consequência dual. Em primeiro lugar, ilude quem o pratica, que passa a considerar-se intocável. Em segundo lugar, transmite um exemplo de comportamento negativo que pode ser, e certamente o será, replicado por alguns cidadãos.

Somos governados por um bando de subversivos que se crê inimputável, que não confia nos outros porque não é de confiança, que exige o que não pratica, que desconhece a legislação portuguesa e que está disposto a exceder os limites da subversão, incluindo o romper do Estado de Direito e da lei, da liberdade e da privacidade individual, para obter o que desejam.

Nota final: já há alguns anos que argumento que caminhamos para um mundo menos liberal, onde as liberdades individuais serão restringidas. O Patriot Act foi apenas o início. E, em alguns casos, serão os cidadãos a exigir tal diminuição de liberdade. Sempre argumentei que a segurança seria a causa da diminuição da liberdade individual. Pelos vistos …

Do utopismo onírico ou do onírico utópico


Confesso que hesitei muito no título deste post. Acabei por utilizar as duas formulações, para reforçar uma ideia: realidade versus sonho.

João Semedo, ex-co-líder da liderança bicéfala do BE, deu recentemente uma entrevista ao Público, onde afirma que a facilidade e a rapidez com que implodiram os países do “socialismo real” ainda hoje o surpreende.

Dr. João Semedo, há razões para ter acontecido, e com a rapidez que aconteceu, o colapso do “socialismo real” no leste europeu. Já lhe ocorreu que o desejo de liberdade individual tenha sido uma dessas razões? É que o sistema que o Senhor advoga é incompatível com a mesma.

Tal como quem viveu sob o nazismo não o deseja, aqueles que viveram sob o comunismo (socialismo real no léxico de João Semedo) também não o querem. O socialismo real é uma impossibilidade, uma utopia que não consegue ser transporta para a realidade. Não é real. Pura e simplesmente não existe.  Ora, poderá haver motivos para esta preferência. João Semedo viveu o fascismo. Mas não experimentou o comunismo. Será que gostaria de ter vivenciado o socialismo real?

Ao manifestar surpresa por eventos ocorridos há tantos anos,  João Semedo revela que a questão não é apenas ideológica. É saudosista. É uma utopia onírica que conduz a um quase desfasamento e desconhecimento da realidade. João Semedo espanta-se com o que aconteceu. Mas não procura compreender porque aconteceu.

Não sei se João Semedo faz falta à política portuguesa. Se fizer, oxalá não seja apenas por simpatia. Mas sei que não deve ser fácil dialogar e chegar a compromissos com uma pessoa de pensamento cristalizado.

O milagreiro dos entendimentos ou a procura dum almoço grátis

Santo anyonio costa

António Costa foi chamado a Belém. Tal facto não é nenhuma surpresa. Tal como também não deve espantar ninguém que o Presidente da República tenha apresentado uma lista de condições para indigitar o líder socialista.

O deplorável espetáculo que tem vindo a ser proporcionado, no que respeita ao nível e/ou grau de entendimento, pela coligação de apoio parlamentar à esquerda, justifica este pedido. Uma investidura é diferente duma legislatura. É esta, e não aquela, que garante estabilidade.

Revendo o que se passou desde as legislativas, o líder socialista disse ter acordo quando o mesmo não existia, dividiu a eventual união, repartindo-a em entendimentos sectoriais por ser incapaz de conseguir a sua conjugação, afirmou a sua discordância face aos seus apoiantes parlamentares quanto à política externa portuguesa ao aprovar iniciativas legislativas da coligação e, desde o dia em que assinou os entendimentos sectoriais, nada fez para minorar os efeitos das discordâncias públicas entre BE e PCP. Agora, no espaço de várias horas, diz ser capaz de assegurar o que não conseguiu em 15 dias de acordos. António Costa é um santo milagreiro que está obcecado pelo almoço grátis. Esperemos que a resposta do PS seja adequada, ou não creio que o obtenha. Aliás, já está a pagar o preço do mesmo. E, para mal dos seus pecados (de António Costa), Sócrates ofusca o horizonte.

Por fim, se António Costa apresentasse um documento assinado pelos três partidos surpreenderia toda a gente e demonstrava que o grau de união era superior ao percepcionado. Infelizmente, o líder socialista não é suficientemente humilde para o tentar.

Há demasiada prepotência no estado, pouca razoabilidade e quase nenhuma reciprocidade.

Fundamentalmente (anti)democráticos

Para o BE e para o PCP é sempre uma perda de tempo qualquer decisão que seja contrária às suas posições.

“Indigitar Pedro Passos Coelho será uma perda de tempo”

Quem o afirma é Catarina Martins.

Outras interpretações serão possíveis, obviamente, mas para mim, estas declarações só expressam a fragilidade do dito acordo de governo à esquerda. Catarina Martins não tem a certeza sobre o chumbo de um programa de governo da coligação no Parlamento e esta postura só revela incerteza.

Para além disso, respeitar o processo democrático nunca é perda de tempo. Infelizmente, é natural (e até coerente) que m representante do BE não saiba disso.

Paulo Morais: “Sou candidato à Presidência da República”

PM 2016

Meus Amigos,

Portugal vive os seus tempos mais difíceis desde a instauração da democracia, a 25 de Abril de 1974.

Desemprego, fome, miséria, violência fazem hoje parte do dia-a-dia de muitos portugueses. Todos perdemos poder de compra, qualidade de vida, esperança no futuro e até orgulho na história recente do País.

A crise económica colocou milhões no limiar da sobrevivência. Mas o seu efeito não se fez sentir apenas nos orçamentos familiares. Em desespero, muitos portugueses adoptam comportamentos menos ponderados, que jamais teriam, não fosse a situação de aflição em que se encontram. Quebram-se redes de confiança de anos, entre concidadãos que partilham o dia-a-dia. Viver com os outros tornou-se mais difícil.

Também entre empresas o ambiente se deteriorou. Empresários outrora ciosos dos seus compromissos atrasam pagamentos, por impossibilidade e contra a sua vontade. Os que não recebem não conseguem também pagar, numa cadeia infernal de incumprimento e desconfiança. Onde havia relações sólidas de negócios e amizade, chega agora a suspeita.

Dentro das organizações, o respeito mútuo desaparece. É já comum as entidades patronais atrasarem pagamentos, cortarem salários, suspenderem subsídios. Muitos dirigentes já nem sequer conseguem dar justificações aos seus funcionários; estes já não sabem se e quando recebem aquilo a que têm direito. Esta praxis instala-se progressivamente, justificada pelo comportamento do próprio Estado, que reduz vencimentos e pensões, desrespeitando todos os compromissos. Inevitavelmente, muitospatrões na actividade privada seguem o exemplo do Estado. Com mais horas de trabalho e menos dias de descanso, desmotivados e exaustos, os trabalhadores desesperam para conseguir cumprir as suas obrigações. Com a crise, adveio a degradação ética nos negócios, acabou a moral nas empresas, diminuiu o respeito pelos trabalhadores.

Mas também a vida familiar se corrompe. Com o aumento do desemprego e das dificuldades económicas, amplificam-se os conflitos. Cresce assustadoramente a violência doméstica. A inactividade gera vícios, o alcoolismo aumenta, o consumo de drogas recrudesce. Os comportamentos pessoais, familiares e sociais adulteram-se. O ambiente empresarial é depressivo. A cadeia de confiança entre os cidadãos está a romper. As famílias desintegram-se. A rede social deslaçou.

A crise económica mundial terá vindo agudizar esta situação, mas não está na sua origem. Na génese da difícil situação em que nos encontramos hoje, está a falta de uma verdadeira Política, a política com letra maiúscula, a tal actividade nobre que deveria concorrer para o bem-estar de todos, para a melhoria da nossa qualidade de vida, para o nosso desenvolvimento económico e social. Só que esta Política não existe em Portugal; temos, no seu lugar, politiquice, a política de letra pequenina, como mesquinho e egoísta é o seu exercício pela maioria dos titulares de cargos públicos no Portugal das últimas décadas.

Temos assim um regime democrático que, ao fim de 41 anos de vida, está agonizante: a Assembleia da República, sede da democracia, abastardou-se. Os governantes mentem todos os dias. Enquanto isso, o povo tem sede duma justiça que nunca chega.

Ao Parlamento está atribuída a função constitucional de legislar. Criar leis a pensar no povo, no interesse dos Portugueses, para melhorar o funcionamento do País, para ajudar ao seu desenvolvimento. Mas os deputados entretêm-se apenas a fazer negócios. Várias dezenas acumulam a função parlamentar com a de administrador, director ou consultor de grupos económicos que beneficiam de favores do estado. Os restantes pactuam com esta promiscuidade. A Assembleia também não fiscaliza, como lhe competiria, a actividade governativa.

O governo, esse, está sem rumo. As medidas mais relevantes deste executivo são contrárias ao que Passos Coelho havia prometido em campanha, rompem o compromisso assumido com o eleitorado. Passos Coelho mentiu-nos e é, afinal, um mero seguidor das políticas de José Sócrates: reduz pensões e salários, fustiga cidadãos e empresas com impostos. Continua a beneficiar os bancos, aos quais garante elevada remuneração pela dívida pública e fundos para recapitalização; mantém os privilégios dos especuladores imobiliários, nomeadamente isenções fiscais, a nível do Imposto Municipal sobre Imóveis. Garante taxas de rentabilidade obscenas nas parcerias público-privadas.

Entretanto, o sistema judicial apenas sobrevive, sempre sob a suspeita de que os poderosos e ricos têm recursos para aceder a privilégios vedados ao comum do cidadão. Não goza de independência necessária do poder executivo, porque dele depende para ter meios, que falham constantemente. Por isso também, a Justiça se revela incapaz de combater a corrupção que sequestrou o regime.

Aliás, grande parte da legislação é exactamente elaborada por forma a favorecer a corrupção, pondo a política e a administração ao seu serviço. O problema chegou ao nível mais profundo do regime. O exercício da política está pelas ruas da amargura. Periga a democracia porque este regime constitucional já não funciona. E não porque a Constituição seja má, ou porque seja necessário uma nova. Falta é cumprir a Constituição que temos.

Sendo o representante máximo do sistema, o Presidente da República não exerce, contudo, as suas funções presidenciais. Em meu entender, só uma intervenção da Presidência da República, porque o seu nível de penetração é transversal, vai desencadear um processo de regeneração. É, essencialmente, por estas razões que entendi candidatar-me às eleições Presidenciais de 2016.

A minha candidatura tem como objectivos combater a corrupção que destrói o regime, pugnar pelos princípios constitucionais que vêm sendo violados, defender a transparência nas contas públicas e travar um combate feroz à mentira reinante na política.

A luta contra a corrupção será o primeiro dos combates.

Foi a corrupção que nos trouxe a crise e a pobreza. O próximo Presidente da República tem de liderar uma estratégia global de combate ao fenómeno de forma transversal, envolvendo o poder legislativo, o executivo e o judicial e toda a sociedade. Terá de ser impedida a promiscuidade que transformou o Parlamento numa central de negócios, com os deputados a usarem o cargo em benefício dos grupos económicos que lhes garantem tenças generosas. As Leis mais importantes não poderão ser elaboradas nas grandes sociedades de advogados, em função dos grandes interesses instalados. A Justiça tem de ser dotada de meios e deve começar a recuperar os bens que nos têm sido retirados pela via da corrupção. Em casos tão graves como os do BPN ou do BES, o Estado tem de confiscar as fortunas dos responsáveis.

A corrupção é a marca do regime, a sua maior consequência é a depreciação das contas públicas. A corrupção representa, assim, a causa maior dos problemas do orçamento e indirectamente a razão maior dos nossos males. Surge da mais absoluta promiscuidade entre negócios e política. Verdadeiramente, já nem se consegue distinguir entre política e negócios.

A corrupção é no nosso país um fenómeno crónico e reveste características preocupantes.

A primeira de todas é que se desenvolve à vista de todos, é feita às claras, de forma impune e ostensiva. Os casos de corrupção sucedem-se e são conhecidos: desvio de dinheiros do Fundo Social Europeu para formação, prejuízos na Expo 98, gastos desmesurados e injustificados no Euro 2004; a que se somam os escândalos no mundo da Finança, do BPP ao BPN ou ao BES.

A lista de negócios perdulários celebrados pelos governos é interminável: desde a Ponte Vasco da Gama que Cavaco Silva ofereceu à Lusoponte, às atuais privatizações da electricidade e da recolha de lixos, conduzidas por Passos Coelho, passando pelas ruinosas parcerias público-privadas rodoviárias de José Sócrates.

Outra característica deste fenómeno é que os casos são reiterados e cada um destes escândalos fica muito, muito caro ao povo português. Cada um dos escândalos, cada novo caso depaupera as contas públicas em vários milhares de milhões de euros.

Mas a faceta mais preocupante da corrupção em Portugal em 2015 é que esta é sistémica, entrou já no ADN, apropriou-se, aprisionou o regime. Os mecanismos que capturam parte significativa dos nossos recursos orçamentais – recorde-se, provenientes dos impostos dos contribuintes – são desenvolvidos pelos grupos económicos e pelas sociedades de advogados ao seu serviço, mas também por uma horda de políticos servis e tendo por cúmplices os altos cargos da administração pública.

A política transformou-se, ela própria, numa mega central de negócios. São por demais conhecidos os exemplos da promiscuidade que contamina definitivamente a democracia e a degrada, de dia para dia. Ex ministros das obras públicas tornaram-se administradores de empresas de obras públicas; outros são hoje presidentes de bancos. Muitos dos que têm dirigido os destinos do país, estão a contas com a justiça.

O regime constitucional está assim profundamente doente. Mas estará esta doença associada a defeitos congénitos do regime, da própria constituição? Não, o problema não está na Constituição, mas sim no facto de que ela não é cumprida!

Os exemplos de desrespeito pela Constituição da República Portuguesa (CRP) sucedem-se. Desde logo, ao nível do funcionamento geral do regime. O seu artigo 111º estabelece a separação e interdependência de poderes. Mas o poder legislativo foi capturado pelas grandes sociedades de advogados, que legislam em função dos interesses dos grupos económicos a que estão associados. O poder legislativo foi, assim, desviado do Parlamento para as mãos de causídicos privados através duma praxis antidemocrática. Como aconteceu isto? No início de cada legislatura, os partidos com maioria na Assembleia da República transferem competências de produção legislativa para o Governo, em particular em matérias de maior relevância económica, como Obras Públicas, Ordenamento de Território, Urbanismo, Ambiente ou Contratação Pública. O que de si já é mau porque configura uma submissão do poder legislativo ao poder executivo. Mas o caso é ainda pior porque mesmo esta transferência é fictícia. Logo de seguida, o Governo encomenda a elaboração das principais Leis às maiores sociedades de jurisconsultos. Estas constituem-se assim como principal legislador, tecendo a malha legislativa em função dos interesses dos grupos económicos a que estão vinculados. Estas sociedades acabam por assumir, por este mecanismo perverso, a incumbência de produzir a mais importante legislação nacional. São contratadas pelos diversos governos a troco de honorários milionários. E produzem leis de qualidade? Infelizmente, por norma, os diplomas que daí emanam padecem de três defeitos.

Em primeiro lugar, são imensas as regras, para que ninguém as perceba, são muitas as excepções para beneficiar amigos; e, finalmente, a legislação confere um ilimitado poder discricionário a quem a aplica, o que constitui fonte de toda a corrupção.

Como as leis são imperceptíveis, as sociedades de jurisconsultos que as produzem obtêm aqui também um paralelo filão interminável de rendimento. Emitem pareceres para as mais diversas entidades a explicar os erros e omissões que eles próprios introduziram nas leis. E voltam a ganhar milhões. E, finalmente, conhecedoras de todo o processo, ainda podem ir aos grupos privados mais poderosos vender os métodos de ultrapassar a Lei, através dos alçapões que elas próprias introduziram na legislação.

As maiores sociedades de advogados do país, verdadeiras irmandades, constituem hoje o símbolo maior da mega central de negócios em que se transformou a política nacional. Estas sociedades de advogados adquiriram uma dimensão e um poder tal, que se transformaram em autênticos ministérios sombra. É dos seus escritórios que saem os políticos mais influentes – parlamentares, ministros e comentadores televisivos – e é no seu seio que se produz a legislação mais importante e de maior relevância económica. Por isto mesmo, estas sociedades têm estado sobre-representadas, através dos seus membros em todos os governos e parlamentos. Ganham os grandes negócios, perde a democracia, perdemos nós todos.

O poder judicial, por sua vez, não é autónomo. Está refém do Executivo que lhe sonega os meios financeiros que garantam uma missão atuante e independente. Estando, de facto, sob a tutela do Executivo, não é verdadeiramente independente. Não dispõe de independência organizacional nem de autonomia financeira. De um modo geral, o Executivo não faculta recursos, limitando a acção dos procuradores. Muitos tribunais são desconfortáveis, não há verbas para deslocações. O Ministério da Justiça foi, aliás, o único responsável pelos constrangimentos da vida judiciária, por via da rutura da plataforma “Citius”, já que gere esta plataforma, tanto na arquitectura do sistema como na gestão dos processos.

Finalmente, o papel central do poder executivo, dos governos, tem sido mais o de assegurar privilégios aos grupos económicos do regime – através de privatizações, parcerias público-privadas ou até vantagens fiscais – do que velar pelo interesse público e pelo bem estar dos portugueses que os elegem.

Outro desrespeito da constituição encontra-se na actual arquitectura fiscal, que constitui até uma das formas mais perversas da violação da nossa lei-base. O seu artigo 104º determina que “a tributação do património deve contribuir para a igualdade entre cidadãos”. Mas uma família que possua um T2 paga mais Imposto Municipal sobre Imóveis do que um promotor imobiliário que, detendo centenas de propriedades em nome de um fundo de investimento imobiliário, beneficie de isenções de IMI. O mesmo artigo estabelece a oneração de consumos de luxo, mas quem tomar um pequeno-almoço num hotel de cinco estrelas é tributado com IVA a 6%, enquanto se tomar o mesmo pequeno-almoço num café de rua o IVA será de 23%.

A nível do exercício da própria política, as violações constitucionais são constantes. O artigo 155º estabelece que “os deputados exercem livremente o seu mandato”. E, no entanto, a disciplina de voto imposta pelos partidos transforma os grupos parlamentares da maioria em claques do Governo, que tudo aprovam de forma acrítica, e os da oposição em correias de transmissão das suas direcções partidárias.

O próprio sistema eleitoral tem falhas de constitucionalidade, uma vez que o artigo 288º impõe a representação proporcional. E, contudo, nas últimas eleições legislativas, o ratio entre eleitores e deputados eleitos no Bloco de Esquerda é de 36 115 votos por deputado, enquanto no PSD esse valor é de 19 992 votos. Os deputados do PSD são assim eleitos com praticamente metade dos votos dos do Bloco de Esquerda. Para dar apenas um exemplo.

A Constituição tem pois de ser revitalizada. O que só será agora possível com um Presidente da República que faça cumprir o que é hoje o mais esquecido, o mais desrespeitado de todos os artigos, o 108º: “O poder político pertence ao povo e é exercido nos termos da Constituição”.

Assim, só o integral respeito pela Constituição poderá devolver o poder político ao povo.

O Presidente da República tem também de promover a transparência da vida pública. Os cidadãos têm direito a conhecer, de forma acessível, a estrutura de custos do Estado. Têm direito a saber, de modo fácil e compreensível a todos, para onde vai o dinheiro dos seus impostos e quem são os maiores fornecedores do Estado. Em nome da transparência, o Presidente deve ainda vetar o pagamento, pela via do OE, de despesas ilegais, nomeadamente as das parcerias público-privadas, cujas rendas constam de anexos confidenciais.

O Orçamento de Estado de 2015, à semelhança dos anteriores, é um documento incompreensível para a maioria dos cidadãos. E opaco.

Mas o pouco que se percebe é trágico: garante negócios milionários às empresas do regime, banca e construtores, e vem introduzir ainda mais alterações a um sistema fiscal híper-complexo em constante mudança.

Uma das maiores despesas será com juros da dívida pública, cerca de 8 mil milhões, que consomem 60% da coleta do IRS! O estado gasta em juros mais do que gasta com todo o sistema de educação (7,7 mil milhões). Um absurdo! Esta situação, crónica, provoca uma sangria nas finanças públicas que urge estancar de uma vez por todas.

E, como é hábito, são beneficiados pelo OE2015 os detentores das parcerias público-privadas. Está prevista uma dotação superior a 2 mil milhões, para garantir aos concessionários privados rentabilidades obscenas, da ordem dos vinte por cento e mais. E a distribuição de milhões pelos grandes grupos económicos é interminável.

Encontram-se ainda aspectos até bizarros neste orçamento, como a assunção pelo estado de “responsabilidades contingentes” de 3,5 mil milhões no Novobanco. Há também dotações ao Fundo de Resolução bancário de 300 milhões, que supostamente deveriam ser assumidos pela banca. E temos “funções diversas não especificadas” (540 milhões), uma espécie de saco azul legalizado. Etc.

Toda esta informação escapa ao cidadão, que desconhece assim o uso que é feito dos seus impostos. Dispondo hoje de meios acessíveis e de uma ligação mais imediata aos Portugueses, a Presidência deve pugnar e mesmo promover directamente um conhecimento aprofundado da estrutura do Estado e a transparência dos seus dinheiros.

Finalmente, temos uma política onde a mentira tem sido uma marca recorrente. Os candidatos tudo prometem em campanha e, uma vez no poder, esquecem os seus compromisso eleitorais.

Passos Coelho, quando candidato nas últimas eleições, prometeu o céu. Mas remeteu-nos ao inferno. Em campanha, tinha garantido que jamais aumentaria impostos. Afiançou também que não seria necessário baixar salários, pensões e reformas ou retirar subsídios. O equilíbrio das contas públicas far-se-ia com a redução de gorduras nos sectores intermédios do estado, a diminuição das rendas das parcerias público-privadas e, a longo prazo, com uma profunda reforma da Administração. Ao fim de pouco mais de um ano de mandato do actual governo, conclui-se que Passos Coelho aplicou medidas precisamente opostas às que tinha prometido. Mentiu-nos, numa atitude em que foi acompanhado pelo seu parceiro de coligação. O CDS defendia a diminuição da carga fiscal, até chegar ao governo e se tornar cúmplice do seu agravamento.

O antecessor de Passos Coelho, José Sócrates, fez exactamente o mesmo. Prometendo não aumentar impostos, não tardou em fazê-lo quando subiu ao poder. Mais um mentiroso. Da mesma forma, Durão Barroso tinha anunciado, na campanha de 2002, um choque fiscal, com uma brutal redução de impostos. Mal tomou posse, a primeira medida foi… aumentar impostos.

O comportamento de dirigentes que, deliberadamente, enganam o povo em campanha, não é admissível. A democracia só é autêntica quando se contrapõem, nas eleições, projectos alternativos. Os eleitos devem sentir-se obrigados a honrar e implementar o programa vencedor. Não há desculpas para não cumprir, nem mesmo o desconhecimento da realidade concreta. Quem se candidata a lugares desta importância não pode revelar tamanha incompetência.

Com estas práticas de mentira reiterada, desacredita-se todo o sistema democrático. Os deputados votam leis contrárias ao programa a que se vincularam em campanha, violando assim a lealdade que devem aos seus eleitores.

Os partidos do poder transformaram os processos eleitorais, que deveriam servir para o debate de ideias e confronto de projetos políticos, em circos de sedução em que acaba por ganhar quem é mais eficaz a enganar os cidadãos. As eleições transformaram-se em concursos para a escolha do melhor mentiroso. O troféu em jogo é a chefia do governo.

O Presidente da República, na defesa do povo que o elegeu, não pode pactuar com estes actos demagógicos e populistas, de quem tudo promete e nada cumpre.

Sendo eu Presidente, um primeiro-ministro que faça o contrário do que anunciou, violando o seu compromisso com o povo, só pode esperar de mim uma única atitude: obviamente, demito-o!

Só assim, aliás, o Presidente da República estará a respeitar a Lei Fundamental. Quando um Primeiro-Ministro viola o seu contrato eleitoral, está a desrespeitar o regular funcionamento das instituições democráticas. Nesta circunstância, o Presidente nos termos do artigo 195º da CRP tem de demitir o Governo.

Meus Amigos,

Iniciamos hoje, aqui e em conjunto, uma longa caminhada.

Entendo que em campanha e pré-campanha, a nossa obrigação é a de dizer, com clareza, ao que vimos, quais são as nossas ideias. É essa a obrigação de um candidato: dizer como pretende exercer o cargo a que se candidata e, sendo eleito, cumprir o contrato eleitoral que acabou de celebrar com o povo que o elegeu. É esta a essência da democracia.

Por isso desde já peço a todos aqueles que se candidatam que digam também com clareza ao que vêm. Que abandonem o tacticismo político e apresentem com clareza as suas propostas.

Será pois o primeiro objectivo desta candidatura manter, de hoje até ao dia da eleição, intactos os princípios e os valores com os quais nos candidatamos.

O segundo objectivo é o de divulgarmos a nossa mensagem em permanência. É doravante nossa obrigação percorrer Portugal de lés-a-lés, de Norte a Sul, também no estrangeiro, junto das comunidades emigrantes, divulgando as nossas ideias, as nossas linhas programáticas, o nosso programa. Nesta campanha, a relação entre o cidadão candidato e o cidadão eleitor terá como marcas a autenticidade, a proximidade nos contactos e o apelo à participação de todos, a todos os níveis.

O objectivo eleitoral é conseguir o maior número de votos possíveis, trabalhar cada dia para que o número de potenciais eleitores seja sempre crescente. É essa jornada que hoje iniciamos. A Presidência da República é o objectivo. Um objectivo muito difícil de atingir, mas não impossível.

Mas atenção. Ser Presidente da República não constitui um objectivo em si mesmo; nem muito menos um prémio. O exercício da Presidência só faz sentido se for um meio para levar a cabo as medidas urgentes de que o País precisa.

Só faz sentido se se submeter ao primordial dos objectivos enunciados no seu discurso de tomada posse, por Manuel de Arriaga, primeiro presidente eleito em Portugal: “eliminar todos os privilégios que, sendo mantidos à custa da depressão e ofensa dos nossos semelhantes, são para mim malditos”. Se eleito presidente, o meu compromisso será o de defender os direitos dos cidadãos e combater os privilégios das castas. O que farei em cada dia do mandato.

União Cívica Democrática – um novo partido


Reafirmo o que anteriormente expressei: “Independentemente da sua posição no espectro público, qualquer iniciativa que venha contribuir para o aumento da participação cidadã na vida política do Estado deve ser realçada e até aplaudida”.
No contexto deste pressuposto, e apesar da União Cívica Democrática ser mais uma alteração duma entidade partidária já existente do que a constituição dum novo partido político, saúdo esta postura.

Infelizmente, a notícia aqui reproduzida, publicada ontem pelo i, peca por falta de rigor, estando, no mínimo, incompleta.
Sobre a mesma, observo o seguinte:

Em primeiro lugar, Fernando Nobre não se afastou a vida política após perder as presidenciais para o actual Presidente da República. Nas legislativas de 2011, Fernando Nobre foi cabeça-de-lista do PSD, e eleito deputado pelo círculo eleitoral de Lisboa. Renunciou ao cargo depois de não ter sido eleito Presidente da Assembleia da República.

Em segundo lugar, apesar de no dia 18 deste mês Fernando Nobre ter dado uma entrevista ao i, onde afirma estar disponível para uma eventual nova candidatura à Presidência da República enquanto expressa indisponibilidade para voltar a integrar novamente uma lista partidária (embora admita apoiar um partido que defenda os fundamentos da sua candidatura presidencial), a notícia não diz que Fernando Nobre está a formar um novo partido.  Assim, sendo este originado por iniciativa de apoiantes que integraram a rede de campanha porque razão não é o entrevistado, Artur Pereira,  ex-director nacional da candidatura de Fernando Nobre e principal responsável por toda a estrutura de campanha, que ilustra a peça?

Não sei se se existe intenção nestes pormenores. Provavelmente tratar-se-á dum mero esquecimento. Todavia penso que este tipo de circunstâncias pode permitir várias leituras e considerações e que, sobretudo, não augura um bom princípio para este projecto.

Finalmente, na minha opinião, também não é bom sinal o método utilizado. Indubitavelmente, a noticia refere um expediente legal. Contudo, esta escolha evita a recolha de assinaturas que a lei exige para a constituição de um partido político. Com isso, aumenta-se a distância para os cidadãos e perde-se uma importante fonte de aferição do interesse popular.

Significará esta opção falta de confiança?

Manifesto dos 74

manifesto dos 74

O manifesto dos 74, que visa minimizar o sofrimento das cidadãos e preservar a esperança para o futuro, foi hoje apresentado.

Como iniciativa, acho muito bem. Mas, espero que não seja apenas uma jogada política e que quando o governo for outro, i.e., socialista, pressão seja realizada pelos subscritores deste movimento no sentido da aplicação das medidas por eles defendida.