Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.
Environmental science books rarely make best seller lists. But in 1962, Rachel Carson’s nonfiction book Silent Spring became an incredible exception to this rule, and is now given credit for helping launch the EPA and the first celebration of Earth Day in 1970.
Rachel Carson was a marine biologist and nature writer—her 1951 book The Sea Around Us became a national bestseller and won a National Book Award. She was also an early believer in the dangers of pesticides, which were developed thanks to military-funded science research after World War II.
Nearly 250 years ago, a group of white men gathered in a house in Massachusetts to draft a document on independence aimed at the British crown. A woman who was enslaved in the house overheard the discussion, and determined the words applied to her, too.
Bett, who was later called Mumbet, was born enslaved south of Albany, N.Y., around 1742. In her teens Bett was brought to the home of John and Hannah Ashley, in Sheffield, Mass., where she cleaned, cooked and served the family.
In the upstairs study in January 1773, John Ashley and 10 other men gathered to write what became known as the Sheffield Resolves.
On Jan. 9, 1967, Julian Bond was finally sworn in as a member of the Georgia House of Representatives. This was after a two year battle to claim his elected seat.
Following his election in 1965, the Georgia House refused to seat him because of his statements (on behalf of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee) in opposition to the Vietnam War. He was re-elected to his “vacant seat” and the House refused again.
But if you really want to worry about where the limits might lie when a president decides to go after individual companies—and even individual executives—there’s a cautionary tale from half a century ago that seems right on point. And the president stretching the boundaries of his power was John F. Kennedy.
In the spring of 1962, President Kennedy was celebrating a key labor agreement between the United States Steel Company—the nation’s biggest—and the United Steelworkers’ Union. Steel was a major component of the nation’s manufacturing sector. So the modest 2.5 per cent wage increase promised to act as a brake on rising prices, and by extension a victory against a boost in inflation that was on the top of the White House’s concern.
A few days later, on April 10, US Steel chairman Roger Blough came into the Oval Office and handed Kennedy a statement announcing that the company was raising prices for steel 3.5 per cent—a hike other steel companies would immediately follow.