Wine, Physics, and Song

Since I’m thinking of writing a scholarly book or two, I wonder whether print-on-demand publishing houses, combined with outlets like Amazon, allow academics to effectively compete directly with the more usual academic publishers like Springer, Cambridge UP, Oxford UP, etc…?  I’ve recently noticed that in ordering new books from all three of these publishers, I’ve frequently been sent what look like print-on-demand editions.  Here’s a bit on Springer’s POD activities.   To take one recent purchase, Faraut and Koranyi’s Analysis on Symmetric Cones, Oxford, is now print-on-demand, and they’re still charging $200 for it.  It’s adequate, but much less attractive than the original edition which has the trademark Oxford deep-blue cloth-covered boards, with nicely finished paper (perhaps excessively sized, even) and extremely crisp type.  The print-on-demand edition is on paper that’s not as nice, an almost inkjet-printed appearance where the edges of the characters are just not crisp enough for my taste, and the boards are thick, covered with something glossy, and more prone to warp outward so the book doesn’t quite close firmly.  Springer and Cambridge POD books are similar.  It’s a little more like you LaTeX’d something, printed it out two-pages-to-a-sheet, cut the sheets in half and glued them into a binding.  (Except maybe your average laser printer would produce sharper results—I’d need to do a direct comparison.)  This is quite serviceable for the right price, for usable math books, but $200 (I was able to find it for less, but still an outrageously high price) seems ridiculous.  But if academics were able to publish their works this way, sell for $40-65, deduct the cost of printing (about which I’m quite curious), do a little yearly accounting and extra business at tax time, and pocket the rest, it might be a much better deal than publishing through a major house.  I suspect that for a good academic work, reputation developed through citations and online access (one could make the book available chapter-by-chaper for free, if desired) might work almost as well as the publicity provided by an academic or corporate publisher.  The major issue might be library purchases, I’m guessing.  Anybody out there have any experience or ideas with this?

More info:  Amazon’s POD printing and distribution unit, Createspace (Springer’s US partner) has an expanded distribution plan claimed to wholesale books to libraries and bookstores.  Cambridge has partnered with LightningSource.

Here’s a video of the Espresso Book Machine, for producing paperback books at or near the point of sale, in action:

Here’s Amazon’s “Pro Plan” at their CreateSpace. The combination of the terminology “royalties” for the money you get, and “self-publishing”, seems, technically, contradictory.   Royalties are paid by a publisher for the right to publish and sell your book; if you were actually self-publishing, you would be hiring Amazon/Createspace to print your book, and do some of its distribution and sales, but what you keep would be profit, not royalties.  So I’m curious which it actually is, in their case.  Anyway, you seem to get about 43% of the list price on sales through Amazon, 23% on their Expanded Distribution Channel (to libraries, bookstores, and “certified resellers” at, presumably, wholesale prices, although maybe not since Amazon labels the entire difference between your share and list price “Our Share”), and 63% through something called an eStore (which is presumably an outlet at your own website, linked to Amazon; more investigation warranted).   Those are on a $16 book; on a $45, 320 page book with black and white interior, it looks like 30% through the EDC, 50% through Amazon, and 70% through your eStore.  I’m guessing this is for a paperback.

So, quite a bit better than the standard academic press royalty which I believe is something like 7% or so, but still, through the expanded distribution channel, not that hefty.

On mathoverflow, I’ve asked how one proves that domains of positivity of symmetric nondegenerate bilinear forms on real vector spaces are self-dual cones.  A bilinear form on a real vector space is just a map that is linear in each argument.  (In other words, if you fix , the function that takes to is linear, and similarly if you fix the other argument.)  It’s called nondegenerate if the only such that for all , is .  And, of course, it’s symmetric if for all , .

A closed domain of positivity of such a form is a maximal set such that .  Maximal means maximal in the ordering of sets by containment, i.e. is not contained in any other set satisfying .  This notion was introduced, or at least used, by Max Koecher in the late 1950s, in work that led to the celebrated result, published in 1958 in “The Geodesics of Domains of Positivity”  (well, actually, “Die Geodatische von Positivitatsbereichen” (Mathematische Annalen 135 (1958), pp. 192–202)), that homogeneous self-dual cones in finite dimension are precisely the cones of squares in finite-dimensional formally real (aka Euclidean) Jordan algebras.  Indeed, probably the very interpretation of the main result of that paper as concerning homogeneous self-dual cones relies on the identification of domains of positivity with self-dual cones that I’m looking for a proof of.

If the form were positive semidefinite, i.e. for all (which implies symmetry) then a domain of positivity for would clearly  be a self-dual cone.  This is practically the definition of a self-dual cone.  The dual of a cone in a real inner product space is the set of all vectors whose inner product with everything in the cone is nonnegative—and the definition of an inner product on a real vector space is that it’s a nondegenerate positive semidefinite bilinear form.  A self-dual cone is one that’s equal to its dual cone.

For our definition of domain of positivity, the form was required only to be symmetric, not necessarily also positive semidefinite.  Nevertheless, according to things I’ve read, its domains of positivity are self-dual cones.   These domains are not necessarily unique, of course, although they are maximal, i.e. no one of them contains another).  Although I have a vague recollection of having seen a proof that they are self-dual, I haven’t been able to find the paper or come up with a proof.

It’s easy to prove that such a domain is a pointed, convex, closed cone.  A natural way to prove that it is a self-dual cone would be to exhibit a positive semidefinite form , depending on and possibly also on , such that is a domain of positivity of .   An idea for how to do this involves the fact that such a form can be diagonalized: we can find a basis for the vector space such that the matrix with elements is diagonal, with diagonal elements .  The number of signs on the diagonal is the signature of the form.  A natural candidate for is the Euclidean inner product in the basis (i.e are the components of in this basis).  That is, we just change the ’s to ’s in the diagonal form of .

Nondegenerate symmetric bilinear forms are interesting for a variety of reasons.  One of them is that they are closely related to the metric structure on a pseudo-Riemannian manifold.  Something like the following is true: you specify such a form at each point of the manifold, in such a way that the forms at the various points are nicely related to each other, and you’ve specified the geometric structure of a pseudo-Riemannian manifold.  (One restriction here, I believe, is that the signature of the forms has to be the same everywhere; the forms also need to vary somewhat smoothly, in a manner I should look up and summarize, but not now.)  For example, in the general relativistic description of spacetime, the spacetime manifold has signature .  Or ; people use different conventions.  I’m attracted to , because the odd-one-out corresponds in relativity theory to time, and this way, the forward and backward light cones are the (only!) domains of positivity for the form.  I.e. the form is ; we have (here , etc…).  Interestingly, with the other choice of signature, the domains of positivity consist of spacelike vectors, and there is a continuum of them.  To get a picture of what’s going on, consider one time and two space dimensions, with signature .  You can visualize this in , with the vertical axis as time (associated with the diagonal element of the form) and the horizontal planes for constant time as a spacelike plane.  If you rotate the 45 degree line between and say the axis, around the axis, you get the boundary of a double cone, the forward and backward light cones.  But similar cones pointing along any ray in the plane are clearly domains of positivity for the form.  I suspect lots of other cones—basically, any self-dual cone you can fit into the “conic doughnut” that is the closed complement of the double light-cone, i.e. into the spacelike (and null) vectors, are also domains of positivity for this form.

My main reason for interest in the problem isn’t pseudo-Riemannian geometry, however.  More on the main reason later.  (It has to do with the Koecher result cited above).

If you found this problem first on mathoverflow, and you have the answer, please post your answer there, and link to it here if you feel like it; if you encountered it first here, please post the answer here indicating you encountered the problem here, and it would be nice if you’d also post it on mathoverflow indicating you found it on my blog.  We can have a little race between we happy few who read this blog, and the overflowing mathematicians.  I know who I’m betting on—your mission, readers, should you choose to accept it, and should any of you actually exist, is to prove me wrong!

(Thanks to Will Jagy, of MSRI, for noticing that I defined nondegeneracy wrong here at first: as requiring that the only for which is . This wrong definition, corrected above, of course says that the form has no nontrivial “isotropic” or “null” vectors (ones for which ). And we certainly don’t want to assume that! Sorry about the slip-up, which I dont think affected anything else in the post.)

I wasn’t planning another post in the “Smash” series for awhile, but this just had to be titled so.  When I followed this up from Matt Leifer’s site, I just had to draw attention to it.   British science writer Simon Singh is being sued for libel by the British Chiropractic association for calling some of their treatments bogus.  Part of a broader problem of British libel laws chilling free speech, including discussion of so-called Islamist extremism in Britain, as discussed in this Daily Mail article.  More links at “sense about science“.  Matt’s post is from last August, so hopefully something strong has been done about this by now; I’ll have to look into it.  This could seriously damage Britain if something isn’t done about it.

Amazing interview with Eugene Fama who doesn’t believe the present crisis is due to the bursting of a bubble in housing:  “That’s where economics has always broken down. We don’t know what causes recessions. Now, I’m not a macroeconomist so I don’t feel bad about that. (Laughs again.) We’ve never known. Debates go on to this day about what caused the Great Depression. Economics is not very good at explaining swings in economic activity.”  (Link found on Paul Krugman’s blog. )

And an interesting bit about consumption and healthcare from something called Left Business Observer (link found on Brad Delong’s blog).  The basic point is that of the six percentage point rise in what the national-income accounts categorize as consumption, as a share of GDP (from around 64 in the 80’s to around 70% in 2007 and 2008), about four percentage points are in health care.

More wine from Perimeter Institute’s bistro:  at today’s wine and cheese, a Slowine Syrah from South Africa (didn’t catch the vintage, maybe 2008?) was quite nice, smooth and tasty.  The 2007 Closson Chase South Clos Chardonnay was remarkable…obviously unfiltered, deeply colored for a chardonnay, and tasting unfiltered as well.  Their chardonnays are some of bistro manager Dan Lynch’s favorite wines, and this was a chance to taste a little of something quite special.  The winery, and I believe also the vineyard for this wine, is in Prince Edward County, a large peninsula that’s nearly an island, in a relatively sparsely populated part of the North shore of Lake Ontario, about two-thirds of the way from Toronto to Kingston.  The wine is barrel fermented (in 25% new oak, 75% old, in a typical  year, according to their website), and as a result noticeably oaky.  It’s also not so high in acid or racy as one might expect from a high-end chardonnay (then again 2007 yielded exceptionally ripe grapes most places in Ontario, I think) but very “natural-tasting”–grapey, slightly sweet but not in a cloying way, with deep flavor underlying the oak.  I don’t really feel like doing the tutti frutti thing with the flavors—it tasted mostly like ripe chardonnay grapes.  I guess someone might say it had hints of fruitcake.  The wine, that is, the wine.  This will be interesting to watch over the years as the flavors integrate with the oak in the bottle.  Really made the case for unfiltered chardonnay, for me—even the appearance in the glass is so much more interesting than just a clear liquid.  Slight question marks perhaps, on whether there is a tad too much oak, and whether it has enough acid to age gracefully, but I think the strong fruit and relaxed, natural style render these questions moot.  Bottom line: I want more, and will take steps to secure some if possible.

Incidentally, yesterday at PI’s pub night  I had the Pillitteri standard (i.e. non-reserve) 2007 Merlot again, and liked it better this time.  It was served in one of the tall, big-bowled Riedel restaurant glasses, and seemed more elegant and velvety.  Perhaps a case of the glass influencing perception, or maybe it was the extra room in the glass for the aromas to develop  (and the schnozz to dip into them), or maybe it was just a different bottle or an extra month’s age.  Still not earthshaking, but a solid, enjoyable drink.

What with pub night and wine ‘n cheese, I realize I’m making PI sound like a boozefest, but pub night mostly means inexpensive food (and beer, to be sure), and is very family-oriented—a welcome chance to socialize with non-physicists.  And, hey, after my two glasses at wine and cheese, I went back to my office and LaTeX’d up five pages or so on tensor products of JC algebras.  So we’re not slacking off here, or anything.  The bistro and the science are synergetic…

On the recommendation of the guys at Cherries and Clay, who’ve made it one of their New Years resolutions to stage a Battle Royale between Rieslings from BC’s Tantalus and Ontario’s Cave Springs plus a few others, I tried the Cave Springs 2008 Riesling, VQA Beamsville Bench, from the Niagara peninsula.  Very, very, tasty.  Quite crisp, tannic, flavorful, with plenty of appley fruit and minerality, especially a certain slightly spicy dirt kind of thing that I associate with Niagara, and also noticed in the Clos Jordanne Pinot Noirs and Chardonnays (both wineries are located in Jordan, and Beamsville Bench is in the area), along with some chalkiness.  11.5% alchohol.  This struck me as a rather Alsatian Riesling.  Some sweetness, but basically dry and quite snappy and high in acid compared to, say, my memory of California Rieslings (from the 1980s though).  Though not cheap for a North American Riesling, this gets the thumbs-up for multiple-bottle buys.  Very distinctive, loads of Niagara Peninsula escarpment terroir, and just plain tasty.  Should probably age fine for a few years, maybe longer, but it’s definitely delicious now.  Make yourself a choucroute garni, if you’re up for it.  (I had it with broiled salmon, which was fine, but not really an outstanding wine-food pairing.)  Thanks for the recommendation, Kurtis and Jake at C&C.   (They also link to some videos about Cave Springs, here.)

Well, after a minor jag a few years back on South Australian (Barossa, McClaren Vale) Shiraz, and a rather successful foray into Santa Barbara Syrah, including some futures purchases from the Wine Cask, I’ve done another round of Syrah exploration over the past few months, as LCBO seems to be well-supplied with the stuff and the Australian ones, at least, regularly tack up 90+ point reviews.  The results have been pretty good, overall.

I’ll start with two wines from Cornas; these are the first Cornas I’ve ever tried, as this appellation in the Northern Rhône Valley of France is rather small (90 hectares, or 222 acres) and perhaps a bit obscure compared to its better-known and even more expensive Northern Rhône siblings Hermitage and Côte Rotie.  It shares with these siblings steep hillside vineyards overlooking the Rhone river, on the right (west) bank, granite soils (along with some clay and limestone), and predominant use (in the case of Cornas, exclusive use) of the Syrah (Aussie: Shiraz) grape.  It’s reputedly a bit more rustic than the other two, hence, probably, its lower price.  But it’s a fullbodied wine, considered ageworthy and potentially great.  The 2005 Cornas “Empreintes”, Joel & Eric Durand, vignerons, GAEC du Lautaret, 07130 Chateaubourg, bought because it was on sale at LCBO, was the first Cornas I’ve ever tasted, and it lived up to the reputation of the appelation.  I couldn’t find anyone who’d tasted it at LCBO, but one guy scanned the barcode and some tasting note or other came up on their computer, maybe with a high score, I don’t recall.  Anyway, I’ve wondered for decades what this stuff was like, so I bit.  My notes say: “Great nose of blueberry with hints of something complex and indefinable; smooth mouthfeel with fine tannins; blueberry and maybe a bit of what some call bacon fat.  Rather sappy.  [Like most tasting notes?]  Hints of cola?  Medium full-bodied.  Suave, a bit velvety.  Good length.  Some dark tannins devloping in the finish, with air.  Even a hint of red hots in the nose.  This wine seems to be exploring an aspect of Syrah one finds often in Australia—but with a certain velvety balance that’s French.  13.5% alcohol.  Has a certain creaminess to it.  I think we can say white pepper on the finish.”  This was on sale because there weren’t many bottles left and LCBO likes to blow out the old and bring on the new like clockwork, making it hard to go back and find things after you taste them and realize you want more.   In this case I tried, and it was gone.  This was one of the better wines I’ve ever had, and while the tannins seemed rather loosely held in a relatively juicy wine, so that perhaps one might expect a relatively rapid dropping of tannin and aging process, it did seem worth cellaring for the next 5-10  years.  Expensive even on sale (in the range of $30+ CDN), but worth it.

Keen to try more Cornas, I had the 2005 Domaine du Tunnel.  Cornas is reputed to be rather inky and tannic when young, and this one more than the Empreintes (which was, however, no lightweight) lived up to that rep.  My notes say “Purple-black, dark tastes, medium fine, coagulating tannins feel “suspended”.  Inky—sappy juicy fruit but with lots of dark burnt toast kind of elements—green olive—should throw its tannin, maybe soon, and develop more. “  This too was quite a good wine, really a dense, powerful one, but still quite young;  if I were “investing” in this to cellar and drink, I would wait a few years before trying it again—maybe two years if I had 6 bottles, one if I had a case.  It is one of those wines you can tell is extremely promising, but because it’s quite tannic and somewhat closed up even though dense and potentially powerful, it isn’t really a hedonistic drinking experience right now.  I drank this at a neat little restauarant, Reba and Pancho’s, in Lewisburg, PA, with a perfectly cooked medium rare ribeye steak on a bed of roasted potatoes, wilted greens, and a light red chile sauce, benefiting from Pennsylvania’s apparent draconian grip on (or high prices for) liquor licenses which forces many restaurants, like R & P’s,  to be BYO.  Plus I met some nice Lewisburg wine folk who were holding a kind of informal wine-club dinner get-together at another table.  The restaurant combines a bit of foodie-ness with small-college-town hominess, and friendly staff all ’round; look it up if you’re going through Lewisburg.  (Entrees in the 20s, starters in the mid to high single digits, desserts 6.)  I went there on Alex Wilce’s recommendation. I left Alex the remaining Cornas, and he said that while initially put off by the high tannin or acid, it grew on him, drunk with a meal of sausage and rice.

I am extremely curious to see what happens to a good Cornas with a decade or more of aging.  At Christmas this year we had another bottle from a case of 1983 Chapoutier Hermitage my dad was wise enough to buy pre-release—it was really nice.  I can’t find my notes on it, but I’ve had it several times over the years, and while one one relatively early occasion (well past 1983, though!) it seemed relatively closed and tannic and perhaps losing its fruit, the other bottles were all delicious, and very different from the above-described Cornas—primarily due to age.  While retaining some tannin, some has also dropped, and what remains just gives a pleasantly prickly spine to a wine that is very harmonious and elegant, mixing some black-currant and blackberryish fruitiness with hints of caramel and floral elements.  But the main thing about this and the better examples of other great old French wines I’ve had (and some great old California ones, on occasion) is hard to summarize by citing other tastes:  while having some complexity and diversity, it’s harmoniously unified, and tastes like itself above all.  Plus the balance and elegance, that are difficult to describe, but really nice.  A lot of intensity, but not a lot of over-the-top tannic fruitiness.  Mmm.

Since I’m doing the Northern Rhone here,  how about completeing the Big Three with a Cote Rotie:  the 1983 Jaboulet “Les Jumelles”.  My notes from 2007 say:  “Superb–balanced and silky, rose petal and raspberry and some tasty vanilla caramel notes.  sediment pretty much dropped, getting a slight orange edge and incipient signs of age but near its peak and fantastic!”.

Okay, so France can do it; but if the Red power of Syrah is to rule the world, how is it doing Down Under?  Well, as Shiraz, it’s been ensconced there for quite a long time.  I have no authoritative knowledge here; some web sources claim that the first commercial planting of Shiraz in Australia was by George Wyndham in 1830, while others seem to think James Busby may have brought the vines along with cuttings from other serious European varieties, in 1832 or 1833.  If I can find my copy of Hugh Johnson’s history of wine, I’ll see what he has to say.  Anyhow, there is a lot of Shiraz made in Oz, at all price points from the plonkiest “critter wine” to the apparently fabulous (at around $200 a bottle, I wouldn’t know) Grange Hermitage from Penfolds.

The relatively hot climate South Australian appellations of Barossa and McClaren Vale are perhaps the best known for Shiraz. I’ve had good luck with them, overall, especially the rich but well-balanced 2005 vintage.  I figured I’d compare one to some West Australian examples of the grape.  I think West Australia’s wine regions are generally considered to be cooler in climate than McClaren and the Barossa.  I recently tried the Chapel Hill 2007 (McClaren Vale), the Alkoomi 2007 (from the Frankland River appelation, in West Australia), and the Hope 2007 “The Ripper” West Australia (which, it says on the back label, is from the town of Donnybrook, in the Geographe appelation).  All of these had little cardboard squares in LCBO alleging that some dude or other had rated them 90ish.  I’m not that keen on numerical ratings, certainly not for comparing wines of very different regions or types, but I guess I’m still a bit influenced.  I’d say the Hope and the Chapel Hill might be considered to deserve such a rating (maybe more 89ish…one needs to leave room at the top for wines one can only imagine).

Raw notes on the Alkoomi, from yesterday:  “Good nose of classic Aussie Shiraz elements–red fruits (like cherry, raspberry) and a darkish thing.  Nice, medium full bodied, fine soft tannin.  Very cherry in the mouth, good long finish of cherry and some darker notes that sticks cleanly to the mouth (not a chewy tannin-coating).  Excellent.  Some breed/balance reminiscent of the 1999 Branaire-Ducru.  Some pretty decent hints of minerality developing, and hints of mint.  13.5% alcohol—surprising, doesn’t seem that hot.”  (Hot being winetasting jargon for the obtrusive taste/feel of high alchol.)  Tasted again today after overnight refrigeration (brought back to room temperature in the microwave—yeah, you read that right), I thought it didn’t hold up that well, seeming much simpler than the previous day, but still a good  wine.  Some slightly vegetal, maybe hinting at jalapeno-pepper, elements seemed evident, also intense red fruits like maybe pomegranate.

Chapel Hill 2007 McClaren Vale Shiraz:  “On the nose, vanilla and oak; elegant, classic, and rich.  Similarly colored to the Alkoomi, which was a deep bright red, but slightly purpler and more opaque.  Wow!  Elegant and rich in the mouth!  Balanced.  Maybe it’s oak but it’s yummy—graham crackers, deep elegant fruit–fine, slightly more grainy tannins, perfectly poised between chewy and velvety.  Tarry elements.  long finish.  More mouthcoating than the Alkoomi.  14.5% alcohol.  A classic Aussie Barossa/McClaren Vale Shiraz thing going here.”  That was two days ago.  Yesterday, it seemed more tannic, darker, less fruity, more closed.  Probably it had sat on its side in the fridge and some tannic sediment got all stirred up.  Still good but not as fun.  Today, after storage in the fridge door, it had more clarity again.  The fruit flavors in this are definitely darker fruits–blackberry.  Also some minerality, some dusty kind of elements.  The bouquet (that’s the smell) really has some complexity—caramelly, sweet elements (probably from oak) along with dirt, dust, ‘n fruit.  Is it a “blackberry oak-shake?”, as some criticize the big, ripe, Parker-friendly hot-climate Australian Shirazez?  (Whoops, misspelled that.  All your Shirazez iz belong 2 us.  Somebody set up us da fruit bomb.)   Naah—it’s a blackberry oak-shake with dirt and rocks.  But quite tasty.  At $22.75 CDN this is a good value for a nice example of the big hot-climate Aussie Shiraz style, with intense enough fruit to handle some tasty new oak, and pretty well-balanced and elegant for a wine with 14.5 degrees of alcohol.

Now, opened today, the Hope 2007 West Australian Shiraz “The Ripper” purports to be a cooler-climate, more elegant style of Shiraz.  It’s not as high-acid as the Alkoomi, but at first seemed otherwise quite similar, if a tad more intense, and a bit better balanced and more velvety.  It has somewhat darker fruit flavors, like hints of blackcurrant or maybe blackberry — but maybe one should just skip the fruit list; you get the general idea.  Maybe not quite as complex as the Chapel Hill, but very tasty.  Tasted again after dinner, it seems to have even improved—very elegant and velvety, flavors getting a bit deeper, more elements of chocolate.  I tend to scoff when a label gets as subtle as “white chocolate” but I thought it made sense this time.

Well, we’ve only covered two continents and if anything is going to rule the globe, it had better have a handle on California.  And Syrah indeed does but I’ll have to leave that for next time.

Kokopelli, described as a biodiversity-promoting nonprofit association and seedbank that sells seeds of traditional varieties, loses a suit against a big seed company because their varieties aren’t—and perhaps can’t be, due to the genetic inhomogeneity associated with traditional varieties and that is part of their contribution to biodiversity—on the EU’s official catalogue of seeds that can be sold.  In French at Kokopelli’s site here, summarized (read down past the Iraq stuff) in English here.  One can see how this might be in part a case of well-intended regulation gone awry…regulation perhaps even intended in part to keep new technologically developed seed varieties from running amok or genetically influencing other varieties…but one can also imagine that the regulations that big agribusiness is exploiting were likely influenced by them toward such results.  Hopefully over the next few decades this kind of outrage, and similar ones like the “patenting” of existing varieties by agribusiness, will be curbed, but I have my doubts.  Even more hopefully, some resolution will be found by modifying the existing EU regulations, but there too I have my doubts.

Oh yeah, I learned of this at Wine Terroirs.

A must-read article by Kevin Drum at Mother Jones on the power of the finance lobby.  He cites figures from (but doesn’t link) this page at the politics-’n-money tracking website opensecrets.org on how the finance lobby, at $475 million in political spending, dwarfs even the healthcare sector, the next relatively specific sector at $167 million.  There are four categories inbetween, however, comprising one and a quarter million dollars, so clearly a lot of the action is there, in “Other, Ideology/Single-issue, Misc Business, and Lawyers and Lobbyists”.  Finance, in this way of slicing things, is actually finance, real estate, and insurance, so it includes other activities than strictly financial ones although the role of real estate and insurance in the financial sector, and the recent meltdown, is well known.  Still, this is a big wad.

The article has lots of details about how they’ve used that power, and what they got for their money.  Kinda makes you want to revisit more sympathetically the kind of attitude represented by the headlines of the minute left-sectarian fringe newspapers that used to be (and must still be—some things will never change) hawked at demonstrations, and by the title of this post.  Or by this quote (also via Kevin Drum) from a rabble-rousing Thirties radical:

We had to struggle with the old enemies of peace — business and financial monopoly, speculation, reckless banking, class antagonism, sectionalism, war profiteering.

Drum is quite a good writer, sprinkling his piece with to-the-point metaphors (Long Term Capital Management was “a relative minnow”, and “leverage is a harsh mistress“), and I’m going to add him to my RSS feed if I ever get one set up.  FDR (the rabble-rousing radical quoted above) wasn’t too bad with the quotable one-liners either—the remainder of the quote includes the line “We know now that Government by organized money is just as dangerous as Government by organized mob”.  Okay, he had good speechwriters.

“The real size of the bailout“, also at MoJo, is interesting but really needs a lot more analysis and explanation.  They peg it at $14 trillion, calling it “the price of the bailout” at one point, but I’m not convinced that everything in the graph is money down the tubes for the government, rather than pay-ins to funds for subsidized loans and asset purchases some of which will turn out to be repaid, or worth something.

Update:  There’s now some more explanation here.

Via Brad Delong, an interesting article (that is, however, likely to be somewhat obscure to a general audience) to consider when reading, say, Paul Krugman on  the Chinese renminbi / US dollar exchange rate.  (Note that in this article, Krugman doesn’t actually say the Chinese currency is undervalued; he just says they’d be doing us a favor by appreciating it relative to the dollar (which they would do by lending us less money, notably by buying fewer US treasury bills and such)).  Helmut Reisen thinks the exchange rate is not as undervalued as some claim based on purchasing power parity; low-income countries tend to have a lower exchange rate due to the fact that nontraded goods in such countries are cheap, relative to traded ones whose prices are equalised internationally through trade, and even more, relative to similar nontraded goods in high-income countries.  Based on a linear regression, he estimates the RMB is only 12% undervalued.  The scatter plot of deviation of exchange rate from purchasing power parity versus log GDP per capita doesn’t look linear to me (it looks convex downward), and if the apparent nonlinearity reflects some some relevant functional form in the dependence of one on the other, it might suggest the Chinese currency is even less undervalued.  Of course, comparison with such a cross-country regression shouldn’t necessarily be decisive if more detailed China-specific analysis is available.  But I wonder what such analysis suggests.