Don’t Miss Enrollment Deadline for Car Care Insurance

It will be easy peasy. Let’s eavesdrop on a typical case.

So you got a new car? Great, it’s time to sign up for your car care insurance plan. Come on in.
First, there are three general types of plans, roughly based on how much they cost. The Earth plan is the cheapest, next there’s Sky, which is in the middle. The most expensive plans are called Crystal, and most of the people who get those drive real expensive cars and are frankly, loaded.

Continue reading “Don’t Miss Enrollment Deadline for Car Care Insurance”

SLAPP, Crackle Pop — Help, They’re Suing Us!

Congratulations on being sued for your activism. You should be gratified, but instead are probably freaked out.

Millions of activists and public officials struggle for the public good for decades without being sued for their work. That’s because the power brokers they are ticking off can handle them with the usual routine tactics. If you are getting sued, it’s probably because your opponents know that you are doing something extraordinary–truly threatening their plans, instead of being predictable or predictably conventional.
Continue reading “SLAPP, Crackle Pop — Help, They’re Suing Us!”

Put the Demos Back Into Democracy

There are two kinds of activist groups, equally (in)effective. Which are you? And why?

Pop-up activists tend their topiary and anguish over bathroom fixtures until… a Big Bad Issue pops up and invigorates them.

Permanent Waves — the second kind of activist group — inhabit longstanding, institutionalized power zip codes nestled among other shrubbery in the nonprofit landscape.
Continue reading “Put the Demos Back Into Democracy”


Do you think you can understand butterflies perfectly well without knowing caterpillars? Corporate political contributions had a caterpillar stage; I’m guessing you won’t even recognize it. Here’s a snippet:

No corporation doing business in this state, shall pay or contribute, or offer, consent or agree to pay or contribute, directly or indirectly, any money, property, free service of its officers or employees or thing of value to any political party, organization, committee or individual for any political purpose whatsoever, or for the purpose of influencing legislation of any kind, or to promote or defeat the candidacy of any person for nomination, appointment or election to any political office.

Whoever wrote that thought corporate money has no business mixing with politics, with elections, with the political process, or with democracy. That’s deep common sense. The excerpt is from a 1905 Wisconsin law, and many states passed similar ones. But if you suggest to people that it should be law today, they laugh in your face. Then re-direct you to some lame slogan-y substitute project that mainstream foundations will fund. (You know who you are.)

The laughter is from people who have lost, or never known (or maybe are afraid of), the clear vision of a transparent and democratic political process expressed in the quote. We probably won’t achieve it by next Tuesday morning, but without a goal with some there there, we fritter away our activism on inconsequential side shows. Compared to the “No corporation…” approach, McCain-Feingold and the Michigan law voided by the Citizens United case are embarrassing.

That inherently self-limiting, self-censoring perspective (bad selfies) means that even reformers’ wildest goals fail to question the assumptions that today pass for common knowledge—and that must be changed before we can begin to work toward a democratic system here.


For people who don’t think it significant that butterflies come from caterpillars, a counter-narrative has replaced the deep common sense of the 1905 law. It’s often abbreviated as money equals speech, an equation brought to us by the Supreme Court when it officially legalized the role of corporate money in elections (Buckley v. Valeo, 1976). It goes something like this: in today’s world, you need money to make your views known, so spending money in a political campaign is a First Amendment right. (Among other things, this view does not distinguish between human beings and corporate persons, but you can read about that here.)

The PAC (political action committee) was invented as part of a liberal “reform,” the Federal Election Campaign Act (FECA 1971, 1974). The wind at its back was a backlash against CREEP, Nixon’s Committee to Re-Elect the President. If you’re trying to place this culturally, AM radio stations were cycling “Rhinestone Cowboy” hourly.

Under the FECA, corporate political money was heavily regulated, but legal. It was just a matter of time (and not much time, at that) before FECAL CREEP set in: corporate lawyers and lobbyists learned a new kind of bundling, while continuing to chip away at the regs through relentless piecemeal legislation and judicial monkey-wrenching. Today there is so much other legal money flying around, the PAC has a much reduced role. Even the SuperPac has been largely superseded by further limits on the limits of so-called “soft money.” Citizens United is but one step in this process.


No matter how long and hard you stare at a butterfly, there’s neither caterpillar nor chrysalis within. You must go OUTSIDE the butterfly—into its pre-history, so to speak—to see the present for what it is. Call it phenology, or history, or just commonplace observation; there’s no shortcut.

In the phenology of corporate campaign cash, many deep-common-sense chinks had to be eased out of place before a seemingly lobotomized electorate would be so dazzled by the butterfly stage that they would stop imagining what democracy might look like. Here’s a sampling of the crud that corporate engines pumped in to replace the 1905 vision.

1. Corporations had to be accepted as constitutional “persons,” with many of the rights of human beings, despite the fact that corporations are creations of government. This started as early as the late 1880s in a series of Supreme Court cases often referred to today as “corporate personhood” cases.

2. The purpose of (government-created) corporations had to be expanded from a specific legislatively established public purpose to essentially “anything you can think of.” The open-ended corporate purpose of today was mostly legally “settled” by the time of the Great Depression.

3. The idea of corporations interfering with the democratic process by “donating” had to be established. Corporate representative struggled for decades to get legal permission to donate to charities, a desire no doubt inspired by the powerful nationwide anti-chain store movement of the early twentieth century. Corporations got this power from the IRS in the mid-1930s (another reform era), and it was confirmed judicially only in 1953.

4. People had to accept that Money = Speech, Corporations are constitutional persons, and therefore corporations could legally “speak” by giving money to campaigns. Implicit in this is that (golly) corporations have opinions. (Of course, they don’t do a straw poll of employees).

5. In and around all of this is the notion that somehow corporations exist on their own in some sense, and not just as an entities created by governments to serve a specific public purpose.

6. The real biggie here is not just that over generations, fewer and fewer decisions were left to locals—but that this, uh, trend, has not been challenged more consistently. (And before you even complete that thought, there is much more to local power than small racist elites running so-called governments like plantations.) A long list of suspects–federal preemption, “efficiency,” a domestic “free trade” agenda, hugely increased power to the federal court system, a growing conglomeration of Borgesian fantasies clothed as legal doctrines, a misplaced notion that locals are usually yokels–has contributed to the fact that local power is at a low ebb.

It is these “facts o’ life,” grandfathered in by ignorance and complacency, that need to be disputed, rejected, and replaced if we expect to achieve substantial political reform. Add them to your to-do list. Or else…


Maybe today’s corporate campaign cash universe is on the verge of transformation to another stage. Like…sending out catalogues for ordering “take-out” legislators. It could be by the year, the term, or even for life. Or maybe, short-term store specials where you can just buy them for a single vote or issue. (Why pay for votes on endangered species if you only care about corporate tax rates?) More possibilities—economies of scale if you want to buy a dozen legislators instead of just one, maybe a banker’s dozen. Coupons! (Half off before the Iowa caucuses!) Buy one, get one free! Generic politicians versus name brands, frequent flier miles converted into committee votes, Don Draper, where are you now? (Apologies to reader for using more than my lifetime allotment of exclamation points.)

* * *

The 1905 law was a STATE LAW, and was still on the books, with lessened penalties, until the early 1970s when the FEC Act—a liberal reform–effectively nullified it.

All of today’s political butterflies had a caterpillar stage. This stuff is legally “settled” only because not enough people question it.

* * *


I apologize to butterflies, their precursors and successors, and all other associated hangers-on, for bringing them into this discussion. They deserve better. The sausage-making metaphor long applied to legislation is bad enough. I don’t know what got into me. I’ll blame unexpected drug interactions in the wake of the Republican debates for my shameful insectoid metamorphosis analogy here.
Coming soon…were the pyramids built to store grain or…Syrians?

Decommissioning Corporate “Magic”

Would you like to neutralize corporations’ ability to get so many GOOD laws declared unconstitutional? There’s an “app” for that—-an approach, that is.

Seriously, do you really think it’s unconstitutional to require labels on GMO food? Or to prohibit a dangerous and ecologically harmful activity like fracking? What kind of a screwy constitution are we talking about here?

What if the Martians (or Plutonians) landed and asked why we permitted a gigantic CAFO to produce inferior food while threatening aquifers, ecosystems, community, and quality of life? Not to mention, underselling and disadvantaging local organic food producers. Would we say, yeah, it’s a bummer but we have this sacred document called the Constitution and it says we, uh, have to allow this?

I use the word “magic” (as in corporate magic) advisedly. Magic is misdirection plus mechanics. Almost always, the misdirection (“Watch my right hand carefully, now…”) is more critical than the mechanics. (Dexterity is a matter of practice: just watch bulbous-fingered men playing mandolin or tweeting.) The same is true about how corporations get laws they don’t like voided by courts.

Obviously, in order to counter magic you have to understand it.

First, the Mechanics

Over many decades, corporate lawyers convinced judges that corporations are protected by the Constitution against government action. (A portion, but not all, of these protections comes via so-called “corporate personhood.”) After a high court confirmed these judicial interpretations, legislatures incorporated the changes into law. (This is still going on today, but the groundwork was laid long ago.)

Result: The Constitution both created a government, and set up provisions to protect people from oppressive government. Then the government (state governments, mostly) created corporations as its agents. These corporate agents, really extensions of government, then began claiming that they were more like human persons than creatures of the state, and therefore deserved protection against the government that created them. (If you feel dizzy, you’re getting it. The topology of the situation is a snake shaped like a Mobius strip eating its tail.)

In a nutshell: A corporation (set up by a government professing to act on behalf of the people) claims the protections of people against government, and wields the power of government against people. This is having your cake and eating it too.

Once even a single corporation wins recognition of an expanded constitutional protection, that protection then extends to ALL corporations. They don’t even have to send each other memos.

Quickie example: A county believes a certain business corporation (BadCorp) is reprehensible in its methods, labor policies, and general environmental practices, so it passes a law banning that corporation from doing business within its jurisdiction. (For an example, read up on the anti-chain store laws of the early 20th century. Check page 61 of my book.) BadCorp files a lawsuit claiming that its 14th Amendment constitutional right to equal protection is violated, because other similar corporations are not banned, while BadCorp is singled out. In other words, BadCorp was discriminated against. (I kid you not, this is the language used.) After that (and this started in the late 19th century), all the other corporations went whining to federal courts to claim that they were discriminated against, too. As a result, this and other corporate constitutional protections accreted over the years have made it next to impossible to pass legislation with real effect to control corporations.

That’s the mechanics part. I’ve been writing about it for two decades, and there’s a solid century-and-a-half of legal scholarship on it. But regular people don’t read that, either because it sounds too intimidating or boring, or because…corporate misdirection has deflected their attention.

Now, At Stage Right, the Misdirection

You can almost smell the incense. Mental lights dim, somber susurrus caress the syllables…Con-sti-tuuuu-tion…as we enter the Sacred Text Zone. Imagine that urine-colored parchment with the nearly unreadable loopy script on it. Probably behind glass. With a security guard nearby. Most people are not exactly sure what all’s in it, but they are hesitant to violate it.

Instead of “Keep your eye on my right hand…” the misdirection here begins with people in dark, voluminous robes intoning the word “unconstitutional.” The first misdirection is that even the suggestion that something is unconstitutional makes many people back off (and stop looking into it).

It gets worse, because the misdirection implies that the Constitution itself actually says that corporations have rights (mostly from the Bill of Rights), and protections from other clauses scattered throughout the document. IT DOESNT. Just read it. (Or some of my short vignettes illustrating the point).

The notion that corporations have constitutional protections comes not from the Constitution but from judicial decisions made since the early 19th century. The judges that made these decisions, almost without exception, were wealthy white men with considerable property. Most also had experience working for the railroads, banks, and other dominant corporations of their day.(See pages 76-77 in my book.)

Misdirection Plus Mechanics Equals…

While misdirection makes people afraid to question the Constitution, and unaware that such protections come not from the Constitution but from increasingly free-ranging judicial interpretations (often called judge-made law), activists and other citizens tend to disattend the mechanics of constitutional protections for the legal fiction of the corporation. Which are right out there, in black and white, as plain as that rabbit in the hat.

Here’s the App!
Decommissioning Corporate Magic: The App(roach)

Remove, by passing laws, the handful of corporate protections that corporations have used to neutralize literally tens of thousands of excellent pieces of legislation.

Before your eyes glaze over, consider this. Look up from your screen. People who can install and use numerous apps on complex electronic devices that blink, beep, thump, vibrate and arpeggio at us from all compass directions—are without doubt capable of understanding the points of constitutional law (there, I said it) that keep corporations for the most part out of reach of citizen legislation.

Hundreds of local communities have tried it already, and are making real progress. Visit one or two, to see how that app(roach) works.

Can Pluto Help Us Understand “Free Trade”?

If we used Pluto’s new celebrity status as an opportunity to see Earth—from afar–as part of the solar system and part of a Galactic Trade Organization, would we gain any new insights?

Pluto is a trip-and-a-half. The word pluto means both wealth (plutocracy) and hell (Pluto as god of Hades), so, already economics, myth, and religion are implicated. The word attached itself not only to an erratic planet, but also a cartoon dog and a radioactive element that does not occur naturally. The dog was named after the sometime planet, now celebrity ex-planet, in hopes that the yellowish (like oxidized plutonium at room temperature) canine would bring profits to a growing entertainment empire. So, pop culture and capitalism are involved. In addition, the spacecraft sending back all those paparazzi-quality images from Pluto is powered by plutonium, the element not only named after the planet it carried the cameras to, but also all tied up with Iran and Karen Silkwood. So add in global politics, occupational health, toxic waste, and the environment.

Perhaps despite its ongoing coming-out party, Pluto is just another overrated dwarf planet. I mean minor planet. Oops, maybe former planet. Ex-planet? The class of ex-planets is small, but even smaller is the set of celestial bodies that has been called dwarf, minor, former, and ex. Now we can add that it is craterless, has unexplained trenches, boasts gigantic ice mountains, and is “geologically active,” to boot. It’s gotten our attention.

All eyes are on Pluto. Let’s truly put our eyes on Pluto, and look back towards the third rock from the sun for a galactic take on our home world. Think future, politics, and investment.

How would Earthling “free traders” respond if Galactic Trade Organization ministers determined that a tiny planet called Earth was the best source of raw oxygen and a perfect location for the galaxy’s toxic waste?

“Free trade” proponents would then for once find themselves on the receiving end of what they have been dishing out for centuries. They could look forward to being told that their claims to “need” the oxygen were based on “junk science.” And that should they want any oxygen down the line, they would be free to pay the going rate to import it. They would be assured that hazardous waste infill would improve Pacific Basin ecology, and that previously “underdeveloped” economies would get a shot in the arm as sno-cone stands, video game arcades, and other new “development” sprung up around the toxic waste import facilities ringing the Pacific Ocean. Any Earth laws that slowed the oxygen harvest or impeded incoming galactic garbage would be labeled “trade barriers,” and the Galactic Trade Organization would toss them out.

Change Galactic Trade Organization to World Trade Organization and you have described the global situation today. Change World Trade Organization to U.S. Supreme Court, and you have described the situation within the U.S.There’s not a square inch of United States territory that is outside the domestic “free trade” zone.

The excerpt above is taken from page three of my book Gaveling Down the Rabble. There and elsewhere I have explained why I insist on putting “free trade” in quotation marks. (Short version: because it’s about neither trade nor freedom, but a denial of basic democratic rights.)

If the long view (about four billion miles) from Pluto is what it takes to get people to understand the US domestic “free trade” zone, then so be it.

About that “Seat at the Table”…

You want a Seat at the Table. You fight for it. You get it. Yippee. Let’s consider it.1

(Welcome back to the DTP Blog. I’ve been absent from this table because, among other things, May is a huge month for gardening in Wisconsin and mine needed lots of TLC so I could put food on my table. But back to your Seat.)

“Wanting a Seat at the Table” is one way citizen activists express their desire to be part of the decision-making process, instead of being merely audience, cheerleaders, dues-payers, observers, onlookers, demonstrators, or the blubbering supplicants role that we play in regulatory agencies.
Continue reading “About that “Seat at the Table”…”

Wrinkle in Ancient Corporate Code Reveals Democracy Remedy (Not for the faint of heart)

Crumbling pages in the rare books room of the Wisconsin State Law Library may hold the key to breaking the corporate stranglehold on the democratic promise so long dormant in the heartland.

I’ve read those pages in that cool, dim room. But you can find the same info in the well-thumbed regular stacks that are only medium-rare. What is rare is for anyone but a historian or lawyer to read them. (Hint).

(Rather than having you read this, I’d like you to go here, but you’re probably not ready yet.)

“Incorporate in minutes: CHEAP, EASY, FAST.” Have you seen those ads? Why is it easier to incorporate than to register to vote, get a driver’s license, or maybe even order a pizza?

Try your luck with this multiple-choice question.

Corporations get their vast power from
A. their brilliant, inventive, plucky, persistent, indefatigable founders’ work and insights
B. US military forces and domestic police protecting their property worldwide
C. a winking conspiracy among judges to invent extra powers for them in the margins of their decisions
D. the sheer popularity and market domination of their amazing products
E. state legislatures

E is the key. A-D all help, with A always overrated and C exaggerated, but state legislatures do the deed.

Those CHEAP, EASY, FAST steps that today allow you to incorporate have a profound impact. Incorporation carves out a handful of chips of power from the block of government sovereignty, and hands them over to corporations. Simply put, some of the power of government is transferred to a corporation. In other words, GOVERNMENT CREATES CORPORATIONS.

(If you’re still reading this, maybe now you’re ready to go here.)

Before incorporation, all you have is a bunch of people, ideas, and resources. AFTER INCORPORATION, you have a company clothed with powers and protections granted and enforced by the full force of government. Law enforcement, courts, agencies, the whole chalupa.

This changes everything. For example, if you’re upset about a corporation doing bad things, you should be even more upset with your government that has granted that corporation the power to do those things.

I heard that many times before I got it. And I only got it when I went to the law library and held in my hands the pages that wrought such transformation. (Ready to go here?)

In a law library, you can hold in your hands the law that a legislature passed to turn that bunch of people and ideas into a corporation with powers of government. They used to do it one at a time. As in, the Octothorp Corporation may raise this amount of money, construct such-and-such a facility, and mine dilithium crystals in these three counties.

That’s amazing enough, that you can literally read the document that breathed power into a corporation. Even more shocking for us today is that if that corporation messed up, didn’t follow legislative instructions, or exceeded powers granted, the same legislature could just pass another law (no judicial intervention needed, thank you very much) and repeal the charter, a process called charter revocation. (Are you ready to see the treasure map to finding a charter revocation?)

That charter revocation—you can also hold it in your hands. Something about seeing this “in the flesh,” as it were, changes the way you understand corporations. It is hypocritcal and inaccurate for lawmakers to intone the equivalent of, Gosh, those darn corporations are so powerful. When in fact every single one of their powers was granted by legislation, voted on by legislators. (And even if first granted by a court, those powers were later ratified in statutes).

So I want you to take two steps that aren’t on many agendas just now.

ONE—Get thee to a law library.

TWO—Realize that the target of citizen activism is not so much corporations (using powers overtly given to them by governments), but the governments themselves that have ratified such a wholesale transfer of power from the people to corporations.

That’s my pitch. I hope you’re ready to go here, to see a pamphlet-length layperson’s tour guide to a law library. Even if you never make it to the library, you’ll learn a thing or two by flipping through the tourist brochure. Perhaps, even enough to turn your attention from corporations to the governments that create and protect them.

Bon voyage, jam