Is California a nation-state lost in space?



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California Governor Jerry Brown talks about climate change. While the Golden State considers an environmental satellite in the sky, what about the conditions on the ground? (Photograph: David Paul Morris / Bloomberg)

For a governor who denies having any interest in discussing his legacy, Jerry Brown has a fun way of closing the loop.

Last week, the California CEO told an audience in San Francisco that he was literally turning to the stars for daring actions, suggesting it was high time that the Golden State had its own bird in the sky.

"We are going to launch our own satellite – our own satellite to find out where the pollution is," said Brown in his remarks before the Global Climate Action Summit, "and how we are going to end it."

This is not the first time Brown has entered launch mode.

"If Trump turns off the satellites, California will launch its own satellite," Brown said in another speech in San Francisco in December 2016.

"I remember in 1978, I proposed a Landsat satellite for California. They called me "Governor Moonbeam" because of that. "

And so the governor of California has come full circle.

Brown received the nickname "Moonbeam", courtesy of the late Chicago celebrity reporter Mike Royko, who observed in 1976 (the year of the first of Brown's three presidential elections) that the young governor seemed to be chasing "the vote moonbeam ".

Royko continued to use the word "m" to describe Brown's non-traditional approach (remember, Brown's first two terms as California, from 1975 to 1983, came after Ronald Reagan).

Royko has called California "the largest outdoor mental health haven in the world". In a column, he wrote: "The main export of California. . . was madness. If she babbles and her eyeballs are glazed, it probably comes from California. "

Towards the end of his career (Royko died in 1997), the columnist ended up regretting the label. "Enough of that" Moonbeam "thing," Royko wrote in 1991. "I declare him null, void, and dead."

Brown, on the other hand, has adopted the label, saying New York Timesreporter in seeking a third governorship in 2010: "Moonbeam also means not being the insider. But aside and walk to my own drummer. And I did that.

This is true. Jerry Brown is walking at his own pace.

But is California's pursuit of a satellite capable of tracking emissions that alter the climate an example of a governor in tune with the competing realities of his state – or a state that, to speak politely, is lost in 'space?

In San Francisco, at the summit on climate change, Brown also took the time to sign 16 new laws on the theme of saving the planet. Its backdrop for the ticket signing event: the first voyage of the first plug-in hybrid ferry to the San Francisco area, a tour boat that can accommodate up to 600 passengers.

The irony of the event is hard to miss: California is flooded with problems that are not as sexy as satellites in orbit or as pristine as a clean, green ferry.

And hardly a show to see.

Let's start with San Francisco.

Locals call the city's hotline 65 times a day to complain about the human excrement strewing streets and alleys. The city's subway system includes announcements by deniers. A popular tourist attraction nowadays is the new Millennium Tower – not for the spectacular views, but because the 645-foot tower slows down and tilts to the west.

As for Los Angeles, this metropolis has seen a 75% increase in the number of people living in shelters or on the street, turning parts of the region into virtual tent cities. If you are moving to Southland, good luck finding a short term rental.

Data released last week by the US Census Bureau show that nearly one in five Californians live in poverty, the exorbitant cost of housing being a major culprit (Californians pay nearly $ 1,450 per month in rent and services $ 530,000, more than double the national median of $ 240,000).

Meanwhile, California's rural counties are facing another type of crisis: the lack of law enforcement personnel. This means that response times to local emergencies and less populated areas of the state are measured not in minutes but in hours.

I mention these irregular aspects of California's existence so as not to call into question the governor's commitment to climate change. What worries me is that Governor Brown is sometimes too enamored of the brilliant object – lamenting with the powerful and the rich about the future of the planet – rather than the ugliest part of the state- nation.

This link in a broader debate about whether California is a standard for the rest of America or a warning about progressive intention and inaction – a debate that I suspect boost.

The left would have you believe that the Golden State, in its quest for diversity and futuristic applications to life, science and commerce, is an elegant piece of crystal stemware.

The right would have you believe that stemware, with its high taxes, bureaucratic reach, and coastal disconnection, is more like a dribbling golden glass.

The truth: California is somewhere in the middle of beauty and ugliness. It is half empty and half full. Scenic and disturbing.

Even though the view of the governor's ferry is hard to beat.

I invite you to follow me on Twitter: @hooverwhalen

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California Governor Jerry Brown talks about climate change. While the Golden State considers an environmental satellite in the sky, what about the conditions on the ground? (Photograph: David Paul Morris / Bloomberg)

For a governor who denies having any interest in discussing his legacy, Jerry Brown has a fun way of closing the loop.

Last week, the California CEO told an audience in San Francisco that he was literally turning to the stars for daring actions, suggesting it was high time that the Golden State had its own bird in the sky.

"We are going to launch our own satellite – our own satellite to find out where the pollution is," said Brown in his remarks before the Global Climate Action Summit, "and how we are going to end it."

This is not the first time Brown has entered launch mode.

"If Trump turns off the satellites, California will launch its own satellite," Brown said in another speech in San Francisco in December 2016.

"I remember in 1978, I proposed a Landsat satellite for California. They called me "Governor Moonbeam" because of that. "

And so the governor of California has come full circle.

Brown received the nickname "Moonbeam", courtesy of the late Chicago celebrity reporter Mike Royko, who observed in 1976 (the year of the first of Brown's three presidential elections) that the young governor seemed to be chasing "the vote moonbeam ".

Royko continued to use the word "m" to describe Brown's non-traditional approach (remember, Brown's first two terms as California, from 1975 to 1983, came after Ronald Reagan).

Royko has called California "the largest outdoor mental health haven in the world". In a column, he wrote: "The main export of California. . . was madness. If she babbles and her eyeballs are glazed, it probably comes from California. "

Towards the end of his career (Royko died in 1997), the columnist ended up regretting the label. "Enough of that" Moonbeam "thing," Royko wrote in 1991. "I declare him null, void, and dead."

Brown, on the other hand, has adopted the label, saying New York Timesreporter in seeking a third governorship in 2010: "Moonbeam also means not being the insider. But aside and walk to my own drummer. And I did that.

This is true. Jerry Brown is walking at his own pace.

But is California's pursuit of a satellite capable of tracking emissions that alter the climate an example of a governor in tune with the competing realities of his state – or a state that, to speak politely, is lost in 'space?

In San Francisco, at the summit on climate change, Brown also took the time to sign 16 new laws on the theme of saving the planet. Its backdrop for the ticket signing event: the first voyage of the first plug-in hybrid ferry to the San Francisco area, a tour boat that can accommodate up to 600 passengers.

The irony of the event is hard to miss: California is flooded with problems that are not as sexy as satellites in orbit or as pristine as a clean, green ferry.

And hardly a show to see.

Let's start with San Francisco.

Locals call the city's hotline 65 times a day to complain about the human excrement strewing streets and alleys. The city's subway system includes announcements by deniers. A popular tourist attraction nowadays is the new Millennium Tower – not for the spectacular views, but because the 645-foot tower slows down and tilts to the west.

As for Los Angeles, this metropolis has seen a 75% increase in the number of people living in shelters or on the street, turning part of the region into virtual tent cities. If you are moving to Southland, good luck finding a short term rental.

Data released last week by the US Census Bureau show that nearly one in five Californians live in poverty, the exorbitant cost of housing being a major culprit (Californians pay nearly $ 1,450 per month in rent and services $ 530,000, more than double the national median of $ 240,000).

Meanwhile, California's rural counties are facing another type of crisis: the lack of law enforcement personnel. This means that response times to local emergencies and less populated areas of the state are measured not in minutes but in hours.

I mention these irregular aspects of California's existence so as not to call into question the governor's commitment to climate change. What worries me is that Governor Brown is sometimes too enamored of the brilliant object – lamenting with the powerful and the rich about the future of the planet – rather than the ugliest part of the state- nation.

This link in a broader debate about whether California is a standard for the rest of America or a warning about progressive intention and inaction – a debate that I suspect boost.

The left would have you believe that the Golden State, in its quest for diversity and futuristic applications to life, science and commerce, is an elegant piece of crystal stemware.

The right would have you believe that stemware, with its high taxes, bureaucratic reach, and coastal disconnection, is more like a dribbling golden glass.

The truth: California is somewhere in the middle of beauty and ugliness. It is half empty and half full. Scenic and disturbing.

Even though the view of the governor's ferry is hard to beat.

I invite you to follow me on Twitter: @hooverwhalen

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