When the pandemic began last March, life as we knew it flipped upside down. Restaurants temporarily closed. Professional sports leagues put seasons on pause. High school proms were cancelled. Colleges originally sent students home for two weeks, but many, like me, did not return to in-person class until this fall.

While many pandemic-era restrictions are hotly debated (think mask/vaccine mandates, whether to pack football stadiums), others seem to be the consensus. One of those is that Zoom (and online school in general) sucks. We need students back in the classroom, they say.

I’m here to disagree with that last sentiment. Why are we so quick to run away from Zoom?

To be clear, I’m not talking about K-12 students. I’m talking about college students, especially those that attend mega-universities like the University of Minnesota. There are plenty of reasons as to why Zoom should have a place.

1. In-person lectures aren’t always necessary

Do we really need to have massive lectures take place in person? The clear answer is no. To be clear again, there is a distinction: liberal arts courses and STEM courses should not be treated the same. Teaching or doing a lab via Zoom seems like a bad idea. But a CLA student attending all classes in person seems unnecessary. There isn’t much person-to-person interaction in large lectures anyway, so why do them in person when they can be done from your own bedroom? Luckily, some courses in CLA like Sociology 1001 and Psychology 1001 at least have the option to attend virtually.

Other departments like political science (what I study) don’t offer a 1001 Zoom option. If you are taking Political Science 1001, what’s the reason to attend with your 137 classmates in person when you could easily do it virtually? The same logic holds true for professors; why teach a 138-person class in person when the same could be done from the comfort of your office/home?

2. Cost savings

The least controversial thing I’ll write in this column is that college is expensive. Universities should be doing everything they can to cut costs for students, especially when it wouldn’t harm the quality of the education. Transitioning large lectures to Zoom would mean universities would need fewer large lecture halls, which could result in savings. Second, students could save money on rent if they didn’t need to live as close to campus. Imagine only needing to come to campus two days a week instead of four or five!

3. Flexibility

Similar to my last point, transitioning many classes to be taught via Zoom would offer a huge amount of flexibility to students. Students could work more if they wish, do other things they enjoy outside of class, have the flexibility to go home during the week and more. This would make it easier for a nontraditional student to come back to school for a degree as well.

4. Mo’ students, fewer problems

This point is the most crucial: as democracy struggles, not enough people look at colleges’ role in helping democracy to thrive. If more students (who just so happen to also be voters and citizens) are educated — especially in the social sciences — our democracy will be healthier. Expanding college education at large, high-quality universities (like the University) by offering more courses via Zoom would be good for democracy.

I don’t think my proposal or sentiment here is ridiculous or out of reach. Universities need to constantly re-examine the best ways to help students, and society in general, to succeed. As we run back to our pre-pandemic ways of life, let’s learn one lesson: Zoom should have a place in college education.

As I’ve had a column with the Daily for a while, tweet often and now co-host a podcast at the Daily, my political views are far from secret. First, the U.S. government spends far too much on the military and far too little on climate change. More notably, though, I’m an advocate for universal healthcare and a universal basic income (UBI). The word they share in common — universal — always raises eyebrows. The questions that follow are usually pretty predictable.

“Should we really be giving Bill Gates $1,000 a month?”

“Should someone who doesn’t work really get free healthcare?”

These questions are loaded enough that they could be asked in a Democratic primary, but they’re worth discussing. In short, the answer to both — and any other hypothetical that comes up — is yes.

The term most commonly used with only giving government assistance to some — usually based on income or work status — is means testing. If the title of this column wasn’t clear enough, I’m against it. Anyone who worries about the growing gap between the ultra-wealthy and everyone else should be against means testing, too.

This might seem contradictory. If I’m worried about inequality, why the heck would I want to give Jeff Bezos another $1,000 every month?

One word: efficiency. It’s far more efficient to simply give Jeff Bezos the benefit (whether it be a child tax credit, UBI, stimulus check, free college, universal healthcare or something else) and have higher taxes on the ultra-wealthy than it is to not give Bezos the benefit and have lower taxes on the ultra-wealthy.

Means testing programs leave more room for bureaucracies to screw up, and if bureaucracies are good at anything it’s screwing up. The stimulus checks are a great example. Though I’m a proponent of cash benefits, means testing meant that checks were quite slow to go out to many Americans.

The same situation is happening with the Child Tax Credit (CTC). The Center on Budget and Policy Priorities estimates that 4 million kids — $13 billion per month — could be slipping through the cracks as the IRS runs into trouble effectively executing the means-tested checks. These problems wouldn’t happen (or would be far less frequent) if the benefit was simply given to everyone. Yes, even Jeff Bezos. What’s the bigger problem: giving Jeff Bezos a monthly child tax credit, or not giving a monthly child tax credit to millions that need it? We can deal with giving Bezos the benefit later by raising his taxes.

“But Zach, we struggle with taxing Bezos and billionaires in general!”

I agree. That’s a problem in and of itself. A value-added tax (VAT) as proposed by Andrew Yang or a wealth tax as proposed by Sen. Warren (D-MA) would go a long way toward combating this problem.

Next is the boost in popularity. Simply put, universal programs are more popular and harder to cut. Think Medicare, Social Security and public high schools. They’re all very popular. Few argue these should be cut, and the people that argue they should be cut are not only bad policymakers, they’re also bad politicians. Call me a radical, but politicians should aim to do popular things, right? That means universal programs. Don’t means test the CTC, free community college or other benefits. Unless you want them to be more ineffective and unpopular, that is.

I wish the conservative Democrats in Congress like Sen. Manchin (D-WV) and Sen. Sinema (D-AZ) would read this column, but I’m also a realist. They aren’t my target audience. My target is to change what people recognize as fiscally responsible. Is it really fiscally responsible to continue to means test the hell out of any program that might be good? No, it’s not. Quite the opposite is true. Means testing is like hiring someone to put a roof over your house, knowing full well there will still be leaks in the roof after they finish. It seems pretty dumb to me.

After reading this, I hope to have changed some minds. Whether you’re a fiscal conservative or a socialist, quit means testing for government programs.

I rest my case.

I rarely talk about my personal life, but this column on the debt ceiling seems to be the perfect time to give a glimpse into it.

I came to the University of Minnesota in the fall of 2019 as a music education major. I was a band nerd. As the Democratic presidential primary, Trump’s first impeachment, and politics in general quickly consumed much of my free time, it became clear that I needed to switch to political science (my ear training and theory professors probably would agree I needed to switch, too).

A big part of political science now being my major is the HBO show, “The Newsroom.” In the show, a fictional cable news show based around real events does its best to cover what’s most important in the news world, even when it isn’t sexy. I try to do the same; the debt ceiling crisis that the United States faces today is a perfect example.

The United States currently has $28.8 trillion in outstanding debt. Yes, some of this money was borrowed from foreign governments like Japan or China, but much of it was borrowed by intragovernmental agencies like Social Security, or by banks like the Federal Reserve. By U.S. law, this outstanding debt can’t exceed a certain amount. The U.S. exceeded this amount on Aug.ust 1, but the Department of the Treasury has used “extraordinary measures” to ensure the U.S. doesn’t default on loans. This capacity is expected to end on Oct.ober 18th. As I said in my last column, we’re running out of time!

While raising the debt ceiling has turned into a political game, the ramifications of not raising the debt ceiling would be catastrophic for all across not just the United States, but the global economy. In a Wall Street Journal column that I highly recommend reading, Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen went into further detail about the potential ramifications if the debt ceiling is not raised. Social Security and Child Tax Credit payments would stop going out, federal employees (including troops) would stop being paid, interest rates would spike, the stock market would decline, and more.

Despite this, it seems that Republicans have again decided — as they did in 2011 when they played the same political game — that impeding any potential progress under Democrats is the correct move, even if it puts the United States’ credit and economy in jeopardy.

I hope they’re wrong. I hope Americans see through this partisan political tactic for what it is: Republicans are playing games with the U.S. Treasury’s credit, which means they are playing games with American jobs, livelihoods and the economy as a whole.

In short, we shouldn’t have a debt ceiling. The United States is one of two major Western countries in the world (Denmark being the other) that operates under a debt ceiling. Put simply, there’s no point in having a debt ceiling. It’s needlessly restrictive. Raising (or eliminating) the debt ceiling doesn’t do anything other than make sure the U.S. can pay interest on loans it already has. Though economists might disagree on the details, the reality is that governments with a fiat currency (like the United States) operate in a drastically different way than an average household. The U.S. government can print its own currency if it needs more money; the average person simply can’t do that. I could go further in depth, but I highly recommend reading “The Deficit Myth” by Stephanie Kelton, which goes much further in detail on monetary theory.

While I recommend watching the whole “The Newsroom” series, I especially recommend Season 1, Episode 8, which covers the debt ceiling crisis of 2011. Aaron Sorkin has a way with words, and one scene in particular sticks with me. Executive producer (McKenzie McHale) asks her economics reporter (Sloan Sabbith) why is the debt ceiling crisis so urgent to be covered? Can’t it wait?

Sloan’s response: To give time for the people to call their congressmen and say, “If you fuck with the full faith and credit of the U.S. Treasury, you’re fired.”

Do it. Call your congressperson, especially if they’re a Republican. Tell them to quit playing games. Because if they mess with the full faith and credit of the U.S. Treasury, they deserve to be fired.

Tick.

Tock.

After reading my headline and first two lines, my column’s central theme is probably a bit unclear. Am I talking about our pertinent climate emergency? Am I talking about our urgent public health crisis, the COVID-19 pandemic? Am I talking about the self-inflicted-but-serious debt ceiling crisis? Am I talking about the GOP states moving to further gerrymander their district lines? Am I talking about the growing gap between the ultra-wealthy and everybody else, which puts our democracy further at risk? Am I talking about the hollowing of the middle class? Am I talking about rising levels of drug overdoses, suicides, depression and more?

It would be plenty reasonable to think I’m talking about any of these crises. The clock is ticking on all of these issues, plus more that I haven’t even mentioned. Isn’t that a problem?

In short, I’m talking about all of these crises. They’re all urgent. If something isn’t done about them in the next few weeks and months, especially in the Democrats’ reconciliation package, they very possibly won’t get done this decade. Don’t believe me? Look back at history, especially since the election of Barack Obama in 2008, and the downward spiral that was his time in office.

In late 2007-2008, the Great Recession hit. People began losing their jobs. George W. Bush’s approval rating tanked. Though John McCain, not Bush, was on the ballot in 2008, it seemed that the GOP would have a tough time winning. Then came Obama. A young, good looking, Black, seemingly progressive junior senator from Illinois, Obama was elected to the White House, and along with him came a large Democratic majority in the House and 59 (temporarily 60) Democrats in the Senate.

Though the Democrats passed a watered-down healthcare reform bill (the Affordable Care Act, also known as Obamacare), the House majority was lost in the 2010 midterms, and little more was accomplished in Obama’s eight years in office. The same could be said for Trump’s presidency; the Tax Cut and Jobs Act was passed in 2017, Republicans lost control of the House in the 2018 midterms, and outside of tweeting endlessly, little was done in the latter two years of his presidency. This time around could easily be the same; many predict that Republicans will gain control of either the Senate or House during the 2022 midterm elections.

I don’t think that people realize how short the Democrats are on time. First, the debt ceiling needs to be raised (or, even better, abolished) soon, as the Congressional Budget Office (CBO) estimates the U.S. would begin defaulting sometime in October or November of this year. Second, as we move into the new year, politicians up for re-election (nearly all in the House and about one-third of the Senate) will be more focused on campaigning than on governing, meaning little will get done until January 2023.

The obvious concern with waiting too long and getting nothing done now is that Democrats likely won’t have control of both houses of Congress in January 2023. That’s why the next month in Washington is so important.

As Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-VT) has said time and again, this legislation could be the most consequential legislation for working people since FDR’s New Deal. I agree. While the $550B bipartisan infrastructure bill would be great, the $3.5T “human infrastructure” bill would make Joe Biden the best president of my lifetime if passed as is. This bill has provisions for paid family/medical leave, climate change, child care, universal preschool, free community college, lowering the Medicare eligibility age to 60, extending the child tax credit and more. If you ask me what should be left out, the answer is nothing.

Plenty of polling agrees with me, too. So whenever I hear journalists refer to Sen. Joe Manchin (D-WV), Sen. Kyrsten Sinema (D-AZ), Rep. Josh Gottheimer (D-NJ), or other Democrats in opposition to the $3.5T bill as “moderates” or “centrists,” I cringe. A Democrat being opposed to the large majority of the country and their president’s opinion is not a “centrist” position, just as opposing climate change legislation, an expansion to the child tax credit, and three and four-year-olds going to public school doesn’t make you a “moderate.” The positions held by these corrupt politicians are right-leaning at best, radical and destructive to our society’s future at worst.

I applaud the progressives in Congress, including our hometown representative Ilhan Omar, for maintaining that they will vote no on the $550B bill until the $3.5T bill has been passed. I hope they keep their feet dug in. The second progressives balk and vote yes unconditionally on the $550B bill is the second that any hope at passing the $3.5T bill ends.

So, congressional Democrats: get moving. Progressives: don’t back down. Push the conservative Democrats to get this done. Because families are waiting. Because the 2022 midterms and the 2024 presidential election are on the line. Because we need to meet this moment.

Because that clock is still ticking.

As an opinionated political science student (I know, that’s redundant), it’s probably surprising that it took until my 15th column at the Daily to finally write about the focal point of many Americans’ politics: abortion. I’ve long focused on economic (rather than social) policy, for good reason, as I’ll explain later. But the latest development out of Texas seems to have left me no choice but to give my opinion on the issue (I guess that’s my job?).

I’ll start here: abortion is a complex issue. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying to themselves. But the latest anti-abortion law out of the state of Texas is ridiculous.

Under the Texas law known as S.B. 8, abortions are effectively illegal once fetal cardiac activity is detected (usually six weeks into pregnancy), but there is a catch. Government officials aren’t tasked with holding mothers criminally liable. Instead, S.B. 8 calls for vigilante-style enforcement. Texans are able to file civil suits against others for a minimum of $10,000 if they either had an abortion or were involved in one in any way. This (supposedly) is a step-around to previously unconstitutional anti-abortion laws.

First, banning abortions after six weeks should be unconstitutional under precedent set by Casey. The fetus is far from viable, and most mothers don’t even know they’re pregnant yet.

Second, is tasking citizens of your state with vigilante-style enforcement seriously a step-around to the constitutionality of a law? Could otherwise unconstitutional laws be created elsewhere, simply based on the technicality that civil, not criminal, penalties would result? Could I, a Minnesotan, be sued for giving a Texan directions to the abortion clinic?

I’ve long felt that people on either side of the abortion debate aren’t actually debating the same thing. Pro-lifers debate whether abortion is good (it’s not) and pro-choicers debate whether anti-abortion laws should be legal (generally speaking, they shouldn’t be). I’m pro-choice; not because I like abortion, but because I quiver at the idea of giving the government that kind of power. The Supreme Court decides cases based on constitutionality. Casey and Roe weren’t decided the way they were because all of the justices on the Supreme Court like abortion, but because they felt the 14th Amendment protects women’s rights to have an abortion.

If we lived in a perfect world — one where children didn’t live in poverty, all women (and men!) had true access to birth control, children always had two parents that raised them, the adoption system wasn’t broken — conservatives would be quite successful with their pro-life morality arguement. If abortion is as bad as many on the right correctly suggest it is, wouldn’t you think they’d do everything possible to, well, prevent the circumstances that lead to abortions? Plus, a $10,000 civil penalty doesn’t eliminate abortion, it just puts a hefty price tag on having one.

If the GOP’s goal with their pro-life argument is to limit abortions, they’re doing a poor job. Supposed pro-lifer Donald Trump repeatedly attacked something that plays a massive role in slowing abortion rates: the Affordable Care Act (more commonly known as Obamacare).

If the pro-life movement meant universal healthcare, access to contraceptives, massive expansions to the child tax credit to eliminate child poverty, expansions to child care, universal pre-K, et cetera, I’d be on board. Instead, all the pro-life movement means is restricting women’s right to choose.

Saagar Enjeti, co-host of Breaking Points with Krystal and Saagar, is one of my favorite political pundits, and he puts it best: I’d rather gouge my eyes out than talk about abortion. It’s not that I don’t have an opinion (I definitely do) but everything that comes with the abortion discussion drives me nuts.

This is an incredibly polarizing topic. I’m not naive enough to think this column by a 21-year-old progressive is going to convert anyone to be pro-choice. I’d rather use what small amount of political capital I might hold to try and change people’s minds on issues that I think could drastically improve Americans’ lives, things which in all likelihood would also lower abortion rates: things like universal healthcare, universal basic income, democracy reform, and more.

Political elites milk the hell out of abortion politically, as a way to avoid actually meaningful change on anything else. Sure, former President Trump did little to help us working people of the country, but at least he got us some originalist judges on the courts, right?

I, like President Biden, am a pro-choice Catholic. I don’t like the idea of having an abortion. I wouldn’t advise my future wife or daughter to get one. But until you can show me a doctor’s office big enough for a woman, her partner, her doctor and the United States government; until you can show me an unbroken foster care system; until you can show me exactly zero American children going hungry; until you can show me a world where truly everyone has full access to contraceptives, I don’t want to hear why abortion should be illegal.

As we approach our nation’s birthday, we also approach another historic anniversary: this Tuesday, July 6, will mark six months since the insurrection at the Capitol. I thought this was a perfect opportunity to discuss what this week is about: our nation’s great experiment with democracy. I’ll start with a story.

The year was 1787. The United States, having had problems with the Articles of Confederation, were concluding the Constitutional Convention of 1787, where they wrote the Constitution that still stands today. Elizabeth Willing Powel, wife of the Philadelphia mayor and known herself as the “Founding Mother,” asked Ben Franklin an important question: what type of government was being created?

“A republic,” Franklin replied. “If you can keep it.”

If you can keep it.

I’m a man of many quotes; I’ve probably said that before in a previous column. But I’m not sure there is a quote that has been more influential in my life than this one.

This highly influential quote has two parts, the second more important than the first. But let’s talk about the first part, well, first: a republic.

A republic

(Note: I’ll try my best to avoid making this column read like a U.S. government textbook.) A republic is, simply put, the form of government that the United States operates under today. Instead of having a monarchy, which we were trying to escape in England, we wanted the people to have power in government. Some refer to our government as a democracy. They aren’t wrong. The founding fathers preferred the term republic, however, because democracy was the term used to describe what we now would call a direct democracy. A simpler term for our government would probably be a representative democracy, but to each their own.

If you can keep it

This part of Franklin’s famous quote is far more interesting and important: “if you can keep it.”

Creating a better democracy starts with each of us as individuals. To put it bluntly, we need to do better. According to a 2017 poll from the Annenberg Policy Center, only 26% of Americans can name all three branches of government.

Some will read that statistic and think it’s pretty cool that they are in the 26% of Americans that can name the three branches of government. I think it shows that our journalism and educational systems are in a bad place. I could go on about the changes that need to be made to fix this, but I already wrote a column on that.

I’m a small “d” democrat, meaning that I believe in democracy, not that I am a member of the Democratic Party. I hope everyone is a small “d” democrat. We need to do more to show it, though. Being a small “d” democrat doesn’t mean that one day every four years, you go in and vote. It means you cast a well-informed vote in every election, whether it be for the city council, school board, U.S. Senate, or presidency. It means reading the newspaper, watching the news and forming political opinions. It means not shying away from healthy, civil discussion on politics with your friends, family and neighbors.

We often talk about our jobs, meaning our 9-to-5 jobs: banker, teacher, lawyer, cashier, et cetera. We don’t talk about our most important job enough, one that we all have: our job to be good, well-informed citizens of our republic.

In times of economic crisis, some are always quick to blame the “free riders” — those who don’t work hard enough are relying on the social safety net created by the rest of society. I don’t really agree with this logic economically. But we are in a time of democratic crisis, and this same logic applies well here. We have free riders on democracy, and it leads to events like those of Jan. 6.

If we want to solve the problems of our era — climate change, health care, poverty, you name it — it all starts with fixing our democracy. So, how do we do that?

There are a number of ways we can go about fixing our democracy through good policy. It starts with curbing corruption. First would be overturning Citizens United, but that seems unlikely. We could pass the John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act and the For the People Act. We could offer full vouchers that Americans spend on local newspaper subscriptions, ensuring that local news remains strong.

Though CNN and MSNBC would like to argue that Jan. 6 was just a result of some ignorant conservatives listening to Trump, it was and is a much deeper, more systemic issue than that. I’m a fan of sports analogies: if your baseball team loses 10-0, you could blame it on everyone else (those damn Trumpers!) or take a good, hard look at what needs to be done to ensure it doesn’t happen again. If we don’t come together as Americans and fix our republic for the better, the next Trump, Jan. 6, and election will be even worse than the last ones.

We, the people, hold the power in our government. If we use it, that is. Ben Franklin and the founders created a great republic for us, but the events six months ago should be proof that we need to do more to keep it.

Something I have long had, and hope I never lose, is my instinct to ask why. “Because it’s always been that way,” has never been a sufficient answer to me. I have a radical philosophy: For a law to be made, there needs to be a good reason for it. The criminalization of marijuana and other drugs has always been one of those things for me. If someone smokes marijuana, why does that mean they belong in jail? If someone struggles with a cocaine addiction, why does that mean they belong in jail?

A week and a half ago, I turned 21. For many, this would be a magical week. Turning 21 usually means drinking too much and remembering too little. I don’t drink, and I don’t plan to anytime soon. But why does the magical age of 21 mean I can drink alcohol, a drug that kills more than 95,000 Americans each year, but can’t smoke marijuana, a drug that kills virtually no one every year?

The number one reason I hear as to why marijuana needs to be criminalized is that it is just too dangerous. But is marijuana really that dangerous?

The short answer is no. According to the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, a marijuana overdose is “unlikely.” Furthermore, some reports have shown that the legality of marijuana has led to a decrease in opioid overdoses. Not only do people not die from marijuana, but the drug might indirectly be saving lives.

The reason marijuana is vilified isn’t actually tied to how dangerous it is, or to the myth that it is a gateway drug to harder drugs. It is tied to the Nixon administration and the infamous War on Drugs. Here is a stunning quote from President Nixon’s chief domestic adviser, John Ehrlichman, that explains the Nixon administration’s thinking:

“The Nixon campaign in 1968, and the Nixon White House after that, had two enemies: the anti-war left and Black people. You understand what I’m saying? We knew we couldn’t make it illegal to be either against the war or Black, but by getting the public to associate the hippies with marijuana and Blacks with heroin, and then criminalizing both heavily, we could disrupt those communities. We could arrest their leaders, raid their homes, break up their meetings, and vilify them night after night on the evening news. Did we know we were lying about the drugs? Of course we did.”

I suggest reading that quote again. President Nixon’s number one policy item — the War on Drugs — was not focused on marijuana and other drugs, but putting Black people and hippies in jail.

My stance on marijuana — that it should be legal — shows the libertarian side of my politics. I just don’t see the need for the government to decide what Americans can and can’t consume on their own time, especially when there is no evidence that Americans can or do die from marijuana.

So, the question still remains: Why does the magical age of 21 mean I can drink alcohol, a drug that kills more than 95,000 Americans each year, but can’t smoke marijuana, a drug that kills virtually no one every year?

If it hasn’t been made clear already, there isn’t a good reason. The criminalization of these drugs was, quite literally, rooted in racism and imperialism. The War on Drugs solved a problem, just not the problem of marijuana. It solved the problem of anti-war lefties and Black people wanting change, so our government disproportionately targeted both. Today, Black people are nearly four times more likely to be arrested for marijuana than white people, despite similar usage. So, for my birthday, I don’t want to smoke marijuana or even to have a beer. I want nonviolent drug offenders to be released from prison. It’s been long overdue.

I have yet to write a column devoted to my thoughts on the pandemic. Judging by the opinion sections at the newspapers I regularly read, I am in the minority. For all I know, The Associated Press Stylebook has a rule mandating columnists to write at least one column on the issue. In a clear example of peer pressure (sure, let’s call writers at the Washington Post my peers), I succumbed to the pressure, and decided to give my not-so-hot take on the pandemic.

Let’s face it: Vaccines and masks are both highly controversial and, sadly, politicized. Based on my anecdotal evidence, most people here in the great city of Minneapolis seem to be great at wearing masks and getting the vaccine. Their counterparts in greater Minnesota — where I am from — are not as good at following COVID-19 recommendations. One might even use the word bad.

I have already gotten the Johnson & Johnson vaccine. I always wear my mask when I go to public indoor places. I have been pretty careful as to whom I interact with. I do not go to large parties but now have more freedom to see my vaccinated friends in small groups. Many — dare I say everyone — I regularly interact with at the University are on the same page as I am as far as following COVID-19 rules.

That being said, this column is not supposed to be about me patting myself on the back. I do not see myself as better than others for following COVID-19 protocols. Though I do not say it to their faces, when someone I know rants about people that go to large parties, do not wear masks, or will not get the vaccine, I cringe a little. I have never had much of an appetite for people putting themselves on a pedestal, especially not for simply doing the right thing.

“It’s just those dumb Trumpers,” they say. “We’d be over the virus if not for the Republicans,” they say.

Admittedly, I was pretty pissed off that people were recklessly partying over winter break. As we all know, cases and deaths skyrocketed during the holiday season. We even saw a period when more than 3,000 Americans were dying every day due to COVID-19. If you think it is tone-deaf to party in that environment, I would say you are right. Here is the problem: Condescending language is mostly unproductive and only tears our nation further apart.

In general, when people see something as being wrong, I am a fan of fixing problems, not just whining about them. That applies in this situation.

Let me be very clear: People who think masks do not work, or have been recklessly partying throughout the pandemic, are in the wrong. To my fellow mask-wearers and COVID-19 rule-followers: Instead of just criticizing and being condescending towards these people, I challenge you to criticize the systems that allowed for anti-science ideas to thrive.

Here is what I say: Are you gonna whine, or are you going to do something to fix the problem? If my house was burning down, I would not be happy if the firefighters were outside complaining about the fire. Put it out! The same can be said for COVID-19 protocols. Instead of just criticizing people who do not follow COVID-19 protocol, let’s do something to ensure these problems do not continue to occur. We need truth to prevail.

Tucker Carlson may be entertaining, have a good collection of ties, and even raise my blood pressure. That is good if you are simply looking for ratings, but the news is not — or should not, anyway — be about ratings. Journalists have a responsibility to report the truth. Their words are too powerful to do anything less.

As large media corporations have increasingly blurred the line between fact and fiction, local news seems to be on the verge of extinction. This makes it more difficult for the general public to find high-quality, reliable information.

As I come from a teacher’s family, I always bring it back to education. We are not doing a good enough job in middle and high schools of teaching students how to distinguish between good and bad news sources. Schools do a good job of teaching students how to critically read fiction but they need to do a better job of teaching students how to critically read journalism, fact check, research and draw well-educated conclusions. I do not think I am being hyperbolic when I say this: If our education and journalism systems were doing a better job as a whole, I believe that fewer Americans would have died due to COVID-19.

So, that is all for my stance on the pandemic. Wear your mask. Get the vaccine. But before you are too critical of anti-maskers or anti-vaxxers, take a look at our systems and ask: Are we doing enough to ensure that truth prevails?

“They got money for wars, but can’t feed the poor.”

Yes, those lyrics are from the famous late rapper Tupac’s 1993 hit “Keep Ya Head Up.” It seems in many ways just as relevant and true 28 years later.

First, I must give credit where credit is due. President Joe Biden recently announced plans to withdraw all American troops from Afghanistan by Sept. 11, 2021, exactly 20 years after the 9/11 attacks.

This date, now under five months away, will hopefully be met by the Biden administration. There is, however, reason to be cautious in that optimism. It would not be the first time a U.S. president said they were removing all troops from a country, only to later reverse course. Still, after listening to Biden’s speech on the issue, I remain cautiously optimistic.

The issue of foreign policy in the Middle East is, admittedly, too complex for many to understand. What everyone understands, though, is cold hard cash. Biden recently released his “skinny budget” for fiscal year 2022. This budget proposal includes $753 billion for defense spending, a 1.7% increase from FY 2021. When factoring in inflation, it is reasonable to assume that Biden’s first proposal for a defense budget is almost identical to Trump’s last defense budget. Still, the United States spends more on defense than the next 10 countries combined.

The way we look at defense spending needs to change. Few batted an eye at the idea of the FY 2022 defense budget being $753 billion. When put in the same 10-year lens that we put other spending bills, like either part of Biden’s infrastructure plan, the defense budget comes out to $7.53 trillion.

If readers have not caught on yet, many of my columns so far have tied back to this main idea. We have the wrong priorities. In my first column at the Minnesota Daily, I pointed to some disturbing facts about the state of our country. In the richest country in the world, we still have nearly 30 million Americans without health insurance.

With horrible statistics like that being the reality, what are we doing spending more and more money on the military while our own people are living in poverty or without health insurance? Numerous studies agree that a single-payer health insurance system would net save Americans money. So why is a common argument that it would simply be too expensive?

Why are tuition-free public universities an unrealistic idea when it would cost $79 billion per year, just over 10% of the inflated defense budget? If one is outraged at the idea of guaranteeing a free public college education, they sure as hell better be outraged at how much we spend on the military.

Biden notably included a child tax credit in the most recent stimulus bill, which could cut child poverty in half. This is great, but it begs the question: Why only in half? We have $753 billion to spend on the military, but not quite enough to ensure children do not live in poverty?

While Biden’s proposed defense budget isn’t the decrease that I and many progressives may have wanted, perhaps it is a sign of something to come: a change in priorities. Though the defense budget was not cut, it also was not increased. Biden’s skinny budget called for large increases to the Department of Education and the Environmental Protection Agency.

Tupac was right, and he raised some good questions. Why do we have money for wars, but can’t feed the poor? Why do few bat an eye at a $753 billion defense budget, but are up in arms over tuition-free public universities? I do not have the answers, other than that it should not be this way. Let’s hope that Biden’s skinny budget is the first step in changing our priorities.

Let’s start here: Joe Biden deserves some credit. He garnered just enough support in the Senate to pass a wildly popular $1.9 trillion COVID-19 relief bill. This bill is great, especially the expansion of the child tax credit (which functions as a basic income for parents) that will cut child poverty in half for a year. And just this past Wednesday, Biden released a $2 trillion proposal focused on infrastructure and climate, what his administration is calling the “American Jobs Plan.” It calls for additional spending on roads, bridges, housing, high-speed broadband, clean drinking water and more. This would be offset by an increase in the corporate tax rate from 21% to 28%, among other changes. It also calls for the passage of the Protecting the Right to Organize (PRO) Act, a pro-union bill.

Biden has a slew of policies on the docket that he has expressed support for: the For the People Act (commonly referred to as HR1), the John Lewis Voting Rights Act and part two of his infrastructure bill, which will focus on the “human infrastructure” (child care, universal pre-K, free community college and more).

If you think this all sounds great, you’re right. It would make massive strides in providing education to everyone, primarily from ages 4 to 20. It would create jobs and combat the threat of climate change. It’s all for nothing, however, if the Senate doesn’t remove its filibuster rule.

“Zach, what the heck is a filibuster?”

Twenty years ago, that’d be a common response to my headline and previous sentence. Now, however, most of you have probably heard of this odd Senate rule. Using the filibuster, any senator can object to ending debate and moving a bill to a vote. If three-fifths of the 100 senators — so 60 — vote to end the debate, then the bill can move forward to a vote. Senators adopted the tactic to ensure seemingly endless debate, a hallmark of the Senate as a whole. If a senator wants to debate a bill, they are free to do so. However, the massive downside is that they now abuse this rule to the point where 60 votes are needed to pass most legislation in the Senate. One exception is the American Rescue Plan Act, President Biden’s relief bill, which passed through the budget reconciliation process, a special procedure that allows bills that only impact the budget to be brought to a vote with just 50 votes. This process can only be used a limited number of times per year and can only be used on things that impact the budget. For example, the minimum wage increase to $15 an hour was ruled ineligible through the budget reconciliation process.

So, Senate Republicans can hold up most legislation from even coming to a vote because of this weird Senate rule. This leaves the Democratic senators with a seemingly binary choice: Keep the filibuster and get nothing done, or remove the filibuster and get legislation passed.

The removal of the filibuster needs to happen soon before state Republicans can pass too much detrimental legislation. As Republicans at the federal level seem unwilling to govern, Republicans at the state level are pushing to make voting more difficult. In Georgia, a bill that will restrict access to voting just passed, which a statement from Atlanta-based Delta Airlines says will, “Make it harder for underrepresented voters, particularly Black voters, to exercise their constitutional right to elect their representatives.”

This new law comes just months after the reliably red state went to President Biden and Senators Jon Ossoff and Raphael Warnock, giving the Democrats control of both the White House and the Senate. Sen. Warnock sums up my thoughts on the issue pretty well, saying, “We have to pass voting rights no matter what, and it’s a contradiction to insist on minority rights in the Senate while refusing to stand up for minority rights in the society.”

In my opinion, if the Senate Democrats fail to remove the filibuster and get meaningful legislation passed, it opens the door for the Republicans to gain the majority in either the Senate or the House in the midterm. If this happens, almost nothing will happen in the second half of Biden’s first term in office, leaving the door open for a Republican to win the White House in 2024. It seems like it should be an easy decision for the Senate Democrats, right?

Joe Biden needs to come out in favor of the removal, not reform, of the Senate’s filibuster, but that much is not enough. This comes down to the most moderate (I prefer to call them extreme) Senate Democrats like Joe Manchin and Kyrsten Sinema. There are only two choices: the filibuster or progress. I hope they choose the latter.