But fairness isn’t the only reason the tax cut was ill-advised. As an economic remedy, it won’t work for three reasons. Most of it won’t kick in until far into the future, too late to help us out of the current slump. It puts the vast majority of the money returned into the hands of the wealthy, even though a tax cut targeted to the poor, working and middle classes makes more sense, since those groups are more likely to stimulate the economy by spending what the government foregoes in taxes. And, of course, the cut portends federal budget deficits as far as the eye can see, which is disturbing investors who often base decisions on prospects in the longer run.

Now, as the economic bad news continues, Bush refuses to acknowledge the threat. While the president focuses on Iraq and terrorism, the lack of national economic leadership is making consumers, businesses and investors nervous. The prospect of war with Iraq is also seriously depressing investor and consumer confidence. Meanwhile, Bush hasn’t introduced any type of economic rescue or stimulus package to Congress. But, so far at least, Bush hasn’t had to address the economic crisis, since he has paid almost no political price for his failure to do so. And for that, the Democrats have only themselves to blame.

The best thing the president has going for him politically, in terms of deflecting attention away from the sagging economy, is the embarrassing timidity of the Democrats. Watching them this year has been like watching a great veteran hitter strike out again and again on a bad pitch: His reflexes may have slowed slightly, and the press keeps telling him that he is past his prime. His coaches keep telling him to shorten his swing. But clearly his real problem is confidence.

The Democrats have been listening too well to both the press and their “coaches” — specifically, the “New Democrat” advisors who have proudly taken a page from the Republicans and Alan Greenspan. The bad pitch they can’t resist is the notion that Americans want tax cuts, at almost any price. Many Democrats now believe that social programs are a perhaps-necessary evil that will always drag the economy down because they drain money from capital spending. And they think it’s political suicide to call for rescinding the long-term Bush tax cuts for the wealthiest Americans: Even a newly energized Al Gore refused to take that stand in a recent speech at the Brookings Institution. Sen. Ted Kennedy has been one of the few prominent Democrats to stand up and demand at least postponement of the cuts, but these days the party considers him too far to the left.

In fact, the big Bush tax cuts hurt the economy, and some types of social spending would help it. Increasing selective social spending would do two important things at once: Help the overall economy and protect American families from the worst impacts of this slowdown. With Republicans and Democrats both steering away from this approach, you’re not hearing about it in many political stump speeches as we approach Nov. 5, but you should.

It’s clear the economy is not going to revive from its torpor any time soon. Gross domestic product, which started falling in the spring of 2001, started to rise modestly this spring, but now looks to be weakening again. The labor market has not revived. The number of jobs in the economy fell substantially for a year, and has now remained about flat. Most telling, the number of employed has fallen as a proportion of the population for well more than two years, the longest such decline in the past 50 years. That means people are leaving the work force in droves, but are no longer counted as unemployed. The rise in the unemployment rate, up 2 points since early last year, actually understates the labor market’s weakness. And foreign economies are weakening, too, providing less demand for the nation’s exports. The trade deficit — the excess of imports over exports — hit another monthly record in August.

The list of negative indicators is long. Stock prices have fallen faster than at any time since the legendary bear market of the early 1970s. Earnings are weak. The deficit keeps rising. Capital investment is not likely to come back. Many of the nation’s economic gains stemmed from the famous rise in productivity — output per hour of work — which had a lot to do with computer technology and investment in that sector. It’s unlikely to continue — recent productivity increases have more to do with aggressive layoffs and staff reductions than long-term strength, but new-economy advocates cling to it as proof that the stage is set for another boom. And it isn’t. Another dip may be more likely than a boom any time soon.

Against this backdrop of economic gloom, it increasingly appears that no one is at home in the Bush administration when it comes to these issues. Treasury Secretary Paul O’Neill has been tone-deaf to domestic and international economic concerns. He dismissed the Enron scandal as capitalism at work and downplayed what someone in his position could do to make a difference. By contrast, Clinton administration predecessor Robert Rubin — like him or not — played a large role in smoothing over tough financial times, including the Asian financial crisis of 1997. His other economic advisors, hearty laissez-faire advocates who always enjoy a good excuse for government inaction, aren’t taken seriously.

Some energetic Republicans have tried to blame the problem on President Clinton. But if you had to pick a single culprit from the 1990s boom to blame for the current economic sluggishness, it wouldn’t be a Democrat, anyway. The more appropriate candidate is long-time Republican Alan Greenspan, chairman of the Federal Reserve, who fanned the speculative bubble with exaggerated claims for the new economy and refused to take any actions, such as raising margin requirements, to dampen trading. Greenspan’s support was also critical in getting the Bush tax cut passed.

That’s not to say President Clinton deserves no blame for the current troubles. His administration did not fight for new regulations to control accounting and finance excesses. In fact, it mostly supported legislation that made conflicts of interest in the financial community more likely. Even in the wake of the disgraceful failure of Long-Term Capital Management, the enormous hedge fund, the administration proposed no new regulations. And under the guidance of Rubin and his successor, Larry Summers, it simplistically promoted liberalizing capital flows around the world, which contributed to various foreign financial crises in 1997 and 1998.

Most significantly, the Clinton administration did not use either the political or economic capital it accumulated during the boom years to argue for greater social investment — which would have served to protect American workers and families from the severity of this latest downturn, as well as protect the resilience of the economy itself. The Democrats under Clinton trumpeted the “unprecedented prosperity” of the late 1990s, even as 40 million people lacked health insurance and America could boast of the highest child-poverty rate in the developed world (though child poverty did decline under Clinton).

Nearly half of American men saw their incomes fall over a 20-year period, even with the improvements of the late 1990s. In addition, many middle-income families lost economic ground thanks to education, drug, and healthcare costs that rose three and four times faster than typical incomes. Much of the household prosperity of the boom years had to do with spouses working in higher numbers and at longer hours, without the benefits of high-quality day care — let alone government-supported day care. And while many women found individual independence through work, even some formerly on welfare rolls, others, especially the less-educated, worked in poor, dead-end jobs, made less than males in the same jobs, and frequently had to work part-time for lack of full-time opportunities. Although the Clinton administration did preside over a quiet transfer of income through a big increase in the earned income tax credit, some college funding programs and other programs, it used stealth to accomplish its greatest victories. Clinton was afraid the Democrats had shed the “tax and spend” smear too recently to risk making the economic case for greater social spending head-on.

But he was wrong. As I argue in “Why Economies Grow: The Forces that Shape Prosperity and How to Get Them Working Again,” social programs can be critical to economic growth. Under the sway of ever more conservative economic and political leaders, we have forgotten that growing demand is as much an engine for long-term economic growth as technology or savings. And much-maligned social programs — unemployment insurance, Social Security, the earned income tax credit and other types of public investment — are critical to maintaining strong demand by fostering greater income equality. Increasing the minimum wage will also put more dollars in the hands of consumers. My biggest regret about Clinton is that he didn’t use his formidable intellect and political skills to make that case to the American people.

President Bush, of course, is ideologically opposed to remedies that might address either the problems of the boom years, or of the recent downturn. And without the boom, many will say now is not the time to dramatically expand social programs. But what’s striking is the extent to which the president has managed, with the help of timid Democrats, to forestall debate on what sorts of spending we can and can’t afford, and which types of programs hurt or help the economy.

The president clearly follows three basic political rules. First, never admit a policy is wrong. Second, never show disloyalty by firing an appointee. And third, always claim the other guys are playing politics. None of the three are doing anything to improve the economy, but so far at least they’ve worked politically. Bush managed to retool his tax-cut proposal — which he floated during the 2000 campaign as the way to spend the surplus that accumulated during the boom years — as a remedy for the downturn. This is economic policy by accident, but he got away with it. Two years later, his only answer to the protracted economic slump is still more tax cuts — not for workers, mind you, but for investors and business. But it won’t work.

While some Republicans try to claim that tax cuts set the stage for America’s boom in the 1990s, they’re clearly wrong. The first big round of tax cuts, under President Reagan, took place in 1981, and the economy did not embark on sustained growth until 15 years later. It hardly seems like provable cause-and-effect, but tax-cut supporters are undeterred by the time lapse. Likewise, some argue that the capital gains tax cuts of 1997 caused the stock market boom, which increased federal tax revenue, but that’s disingenuous. New-economy talk and dot-com fever were reaching their heights. Profits soared. Meanwhile, the Federal Reserve stepped on the monetary throttle hard in 1997 and 1998 to compensate for the international finance crises in those years. These are the factors that drove the market higher, not a capital gains tax cut.

In fact, the nation grew most rapidly in the 1950s and 1960s, when tax rates were much higher than now — indeed, that growth was even faster than growth in the late 1800s, when tax rates were meager. Clinton raised taxes on the rich in 1993, and the economy took off within the next two years — it might have done so sooner had Greenspan cut interest rates that year. And clearly, no one raised the capital gains tax in 2000 — and yet stocks fell, and federal tax revenues with them.

So what’s the answer now? Clearly the problem is not high taxes. One main problem is that business overinvested in high-technology equipment in the late 1990s, and we are not going to see aggressive business investment any time soon. A nation, indeed a world, with too much capacity to produce goods and services is not likely to see tax cuts for business and the wealthy succeed in restoring capital spending. We do not need tax cuts, as one businessman told me. We need people buying the products of American businesses.

Unemployment is one obstacle to such spending. Another obstacle is the high levels of debt consumers took on in the 1990s. Consumers have kept purchasing anyway, but the question is whether they will keep it up. If people fear they will lose their jobs, they are likely to cut back. GDP has to grow by 3 percent a year to produce a net gain in jobs. Few think it can do more than hobble along. The fall in stock prices is serious grounds for concern that the bottom could just fall out. And now housing prices may fall, too. (In some regions, like the technology-dependent San Francisco Bay Area, they’ve clearly begun to drop.)

Only a targeted package of social spending — including some tax cuts for the working and middle class — is reliably going to spur the economy. America needs a serious short-term fiscal stimulus. Congress should extend unemployment insurance, send money to newly cash-strapped states to keep up their health, education and welfare spending, and rescind the Bush tax cuts for the rich. A payroll tax cut for real working Americans could then be adopted, to promote spending now. These Social Security and disability taxes fall disproportionately on middle- and lower-income workers.

The components of an effective short-term stimulus plan are fairly simple. So it’s dispiriting not to hear more Democrats talk about them. House Minority leader Richard Gephardt has offered a plan to increase social spending, but also to cut as yet unspecified taxes for middle- and lower-income workers. Yet he refuses to support rescinding the Bush tax cuts on high-income Americans, even though they weaken the economy. Other Democrats, such as Teddy Kennedy, are supporting specific programs to expand unemployment insurance and raise the minimum wage. But there is no other broad plan to rescue the struggling economy.

Ironically, war and homeland security spending are helping to keep the economy from sinking. But it is unlikely that war spending will be sufficient stimulus to offset the spike in oil costs a war with Iraq almost certainly would trigger. And the high levels of public uncertainty, even fear, that would accompany such a war could very well keep stocks from rising, people from buying, and business from investing. The nation needs to invest in new demand directly, not merely as a byproduct of spending on war or national security.

And in the long run, we need to change the way voters and politicians understand economic tradeoffs. We need to balance the very real concerns over high federal deficits and inadequate American savings rates with the competing need to support a strong domestic market and economic equity. Savings will matter over time, but they cannot be emphasized to the exclusion of higher wages. Long-term deficits can be a drag on the economy, but short-term, targeted borrowing can be a stimulus. Free trade may be helpful, but domestic demand matters more.

Over time, we must address issues that the Bush administration simply won’t. Inequality must be targeted through expanded earnings tax credits, fairer welfare programs, a higher minimum wage, and efforts to root out the lasting effects of racial discrimination. One tragic lasting effect is the inequality and inadequacy of public education. Our tradition of locally funded K-12 schools has consigned poor children, disproportionately black and Latino, to crumbling buildings with poorly trained teachers and low standards, while wealthy suburban kids who start with every advantage get much more. Smart investment in education, preschool, day care and healthcare pays off in so many ways: By creating jobs to provide those services, we put dollars in the hands of people who’ll spend them. And by providing those crucial services, we develop a workforce that gives the nation a lasting competitive advantage that cannot readily be undermined by low-wage competition.

What is remarkable is the way we recoil from such an agenda. Yes, public spending can go too far. Yes, some Great Society programs were ineffective, inefficient and lacked accountability. But we have swung too far in the other direction. And even after eight years of prosperity under a Democratic administration, we could not revive the ideal of equity alongside economic growth, or make the case that one can lead to the other. It may be harder to make that case under a conservative Republican administration, and during an economic downturn. But we have no choice. Both fairness and the need to begin the economic recovery require that we begin soon.

Now that Mitt Romney has won the Republican nomination, two key features prevail over the 2012 campaign — and both were also plainly evident in 2004. First, the incumbent president’s reelection fortunes are far from certain; and, second, the incumbent faces a decent but nevertheless weak challenger who is further hampered by internal problems within his party’s coalition.

Because incumbents can’t run for reelection promising “change,” and because “hope” during a lingering recession was also off the menu, the Obama campaign’s 2012 theme of  “forward” — a word that often follows “plow,” mind you — was the best available alternative. That said, and substituting the economy for terrorism, Obama is implicitly if not explicitly advancing the same theme Bush did in 2004: America suffered a tough blow, but the situation could have been worse and, more to the point, under my stewardship the nation is steadily regaining its footing.

This counterfactual campaign theme — vote for me not because of what happened, but what might have but didn’t — is a common thread for Bush and Obama. It’s not an uplifting message, but it sufficed in 2004 and Obama is counting on it working again in 2012.

Politics 101 further dictates that when an incumbent’s reelection is in doubt, he must go negative against the challenger. Obama political operatives in the White House and at the Democratic National Committee long ago made it abundantly clear they were willing to do just that. Team Obama may not go negative against Romney to the degree the Bush camp did against John Kerry in 2004. (By mid-summer 2004, 75 percent of Bush’s TV ads were negative attacks on Kerry.) But don’t be surprised if attacks on Romney’s record and even character are plentiful, harsh and relentless. In 2008, America saw candidate Obama’s toothy grin; four years later, expect to see President Obama’s fangs.

Expect the Obama camp to emphasize two major critiques of Romney: that he is a flip-flopper willing to say anything or reverse any position to win; and that he is an economic royalist whose personal and public life suggest a person incapable of understanding the lives and struggles of average Americans. Again — note the unusual parallels with 2004.

Although Romney is a Republican former governor and Kerry was at the time his state’s Democratic junior U.S. senator, the two Massachusetts pols make for similar targets. Each man is an extraordinarily rich preppie and Ivy Leaguer. Each represents the liberal wing of his respective party. Each has shown a propensity for ruining an otherwise valid point with sloppy, backfiring language. And each has a reputation for lacking political spine.

The flip-flop frame is candidate character assassination of the first order. Like the lone negative number in a string of multiplied positives, the critique that nobody can trust any statement or claim made by a politician has the potential to negate every accomplishment or promise. If it sticks, it can be fatal, as Kerry learned in 2004.

Obama and the Democratic National Committee know their electoral history and, sure enough, last November — a year before the election and two full months before a single Iowan had caucused — the DNC released a four-minute “Mitt vs. Mitt” ad and its accompanying website with the damning tag line, “the story of two men trapped in one body.” The site is a brilliant homage to the Bush campaign’s 2004 windsurfer attack ad and the devastating, 11-minute ad the Republican National Committee produced chronicling Kerry’s “evolution” on Iraq.

And then there is what might be called “the Willard factor”: Romney as Richy Rich, the Monopoly Guy with the Bain Capital background and the Swiss bank account. His bio would be political gold to Romney’s opponent any election cycle, but it’s gold-plated platinum in the first full presidential campaign following the biggest economic crisis since the Great Depression, the rise of the Occupy Wall Street movement, and the long overdue national debate over income inequality.

Again, the wealth-personified line of attack mirrors the out-of-touch, Martha’s Vineyard yoke the Bush team put around Kerry’s neck in 2004. Right on cue, in the first public event of his reelection campaign, last week Obama attacked Romney by name and invoked the economic disconnect card with relish. “He sincerely believes that if CEOs and wealthy investors like him make money the rest of us will automatically prosper as well,” said Obama of Romney, adding that “corporations aren’t people – -people are people.” (For the record, Kerry is actually wealthier than Romney, who would become one of the richest men ever to occupy the White House, should he win.)

Obama will also try to shift the national debate toward areas of strength, as Bush did. Historically, this meant the same strategy, but with inverse implications for each party: The so-called mommy party Democrats would encourage voters to focus on more favorable kitchen-table economy issues — healthcare, jobs, education — and away from less favorable “daddy party” Republican issues surrounding foreign wars abroad and culture wars. Because Obama is net-positive in foreign policy approval and net-negative on the economy, rather than mirroring by inversion, Obama will try to duplicate Bush’s shift-in-emphasis in 2004. GOP complaints that Obama is politicizing the killing of Osama bin Laden reveal Republican fears that Obama is going to play the terrorism card in 2012 just like Bush did eight years ago.

The 2004 parallels extend beyond message. Obama will be amply resourced and enjoy a field technology by virtue of his campaign’s state-of-the-art Web, donor, volunteer and social media innovations. Remember the Bush reelection campaign’s vaunted “72-hour” voter turnout model? That seems like an Edsel compared to the Ferrari the Obama team will be sporting this summer and fall. Among the perquisites modern presidential incumbents enjoy is the option to test-drive the best mobilization machines before anyone else.

Finally, what most connects Obama 2012 to Bush 2004 is the stability of the electoral map itself. Only three states — two net to Bush — flipped from one party to the other between 2000 and 2004; only nine states flipped between 2004 and 2008. Split the difference and a good, back-of-the-napkin over-under for number of states likely to flip between 2008 and 2012 is six. And thus, like the lead sailboat during a windless race, Obama doesn’t need or want conditions to change much from 2008: He merely has to replicate the map that swept him into office, with the burden of figuring out how to shake up the Electoral College falling to Romney, just as it did for Kerry against Bush. Even Karl Rove’s mapping of the 2012 election concedes this reality.

The 2008 election was memorable; to borrow the title of one best-selling chronicle, it was a “game changer.” But 2012 will not be. In many respects, it will be a game repeater, with Obama playing Bush to Romney’s Kerry of 2004. The president may be asking Americans to look “forward” in 2012, but the best preview of his reelection campaign can be found by looking backward eight years.

Republicans lost their popularity on security issues for one reason: George W. Bush’s foreign policy was a disaster. And yet, the party’s nominee, Mitt Romney, has assembled a foreign-policy team composed almost exclusively of individuals with the same war-always mentality and ideology that served Bush — and the United States — so poorly. In some cases, the exact same men responsible for Bush’s catastrophic national security policies are advising Romney. The former Massachusetts governor could have included some of the pragmatists and realists from the George H.W. Bush administration. Instead, a Romney presidency seems like it would be Bush 43 all over again.

Richard Grenell, who served as United Nations spokesman under Bush, may be gone from the Romney campaign after an uproar over his sexuality, but there are plenty more former Bushies. First off, there are Romney’s “special advisors.” There’s Michael Chertoff, W.’s Homeland Security director. Chertoff oversaw DHS’s failures during Hurricane Katrina, and amassed unprecedented powers of secrecy. Next up is Eliot Cohen, counselor to the State Department for Bush’s last two years and on the Defense Policy Advisory Board for the president’s entire term. Cohen was an adamant supporter of the Iraq War and advised Bush directly on the issue. Or take Cofer Black, the man who infamously said to Bush in September 2011 about al-Qaida that “When we’re through with them they will have flies walking across their eyeballs.” Black went on to become chairman of Blackwater, where he resigned after the company illegally bribed Iraqi officials.

Then there are the 13 “working groups” composed of equally worrisome individuals. The Middle East and North Africa Working Group is co-chaired by Bush’s Assistant Secretary of Defense Mary Beth Long, and Meghan O’Sullivan, Bush’s special assistant and deputy national security advisor for Iraq and Afghanistan. The remaining co-chair is Walid Phares, who never worked for Bush but advised Lebanese warlords in the 1980s. Romney has reportedly promised Phares a top job in his administration, despite his virulently anti-Islamic views.

All told, Romney lists 37 holdovers from the George W. Bush administration — the very same administration he and all other Republican candidates barely referenced during their many debates because it was so discredited and toxic, even to the Republican base.

It didn’t have to be this way. There are, in fact, people in Republican circles who are sensible on international affairs. The Cato Institute, in particular, has experts that could dramatically change the direction of American foreign policy. Men like Justin Logan and Christopher Preble were prescient on Iraq and a host of other issues. Similarly, the Center for the National Interest (formerly the Nixon Center) has a host of solid scholars, including ones like Dimitri Simes and Geoffrey Kemp, who have valuable government experience in the Nixon and Reagan administrations, respectively, and a history of perceptive analysis. Richard Haass, president of the Council on Foreign Relations, would have been another good pick.

So why aren’t guys like this being tapped? Why is the GOP sticking with a discredited foreign-policy approach rather that looking to its own past for wiser counsel? “Most of the realists and pragmatists have simply been driven out of the Republican Party,” says Stephen Walt, who writes a blog at Foreign Policy and teaches at Harvard. “The neoconservatives have been driving the agenda since Bush was elected and they remain well-entrenched.”

Another factor is that the Republican Party’s base remains strongly militaristic and reluctant to recognize limits on American power. Jon Huntsman’s failed presidential campaign illustrated that problem. The good news is that nobody seems to be calling for nation-building and occupying foreign countries in the mold of Iraq and Afghanistan. But that’s the only lesson that seems to have been learned from the last decade of foreign-policy debacles.

Finally, it may just be that the United States has too much power to change course. While the Unites States has undoubtedly made disastrous decisions in the last decades, it is so powerful that it is largely insulated from the consequences of them. If Romney’s foreign-policy advisor list is anything to go by, a Romney administration would have to teach the U.S. all over again about the problems with trying to police the world. Prepare for Bush redux.

Based on published histories and his firsthand observations, and adapted from a lecture delivered in November, the article calls the administration’s rationale for its use of torture — which he nonetheless insists only on calling “extreme interrogation” and “coercive methods” — “radical,” “an amazing contention,” “untenable and extreme,” “unsustainable,” “an unprecedented program of coolly calculated dehumanizing abuse and physical torment,” and, finally, simply a “mistake.” He concludes: “This was a collective failure of American public leadership, in which a number of officials and members of Congress (and staffers) of both parties played a part, endorsing a CIA program of physical coercion without any precedent in U.S. history.”  In fact, “The only defense against criminal prosecution would be that officials acted in good faith reliance on the advice of their government lawyers.”

Part of what makes Zelikow’s analysis so damning and definitive is its judiciousness. The article is deeply empathetic of the uniquely fearful situation under which the Bush administration was initially operating. Zelikow calls the Sept. 11 attacks a “collective trauma” and a “shoc[k] to mass beliefs.” He notes that Bush and others spent time in burn units, morgues and with survivors of the attacks. One traumatic experienced often overlooked — overlooked because it appeared in Stephen Hayes’ stenographic biography of Dick Cheney — was that the vice-president’s daughter was (falsely, it turns out) told that her house with her children in it had tested positive for anthrax. Similarly, Cheney and National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice were told that they and others had been exposed to an extremely lethal toxin in a particular area of the White House — and might soon die as a result. “The alarms did not stop and they too were not abstract … The pressure on Bush and his senior advisers was so direct because so much of the response had to be invented and improvised,” the article reads.

An additional factor in the power of the article is Zelikow’s credibility and history. Before entering government, he was a civil rights lawyer in Texas battling the Ku Klux Klan and then a highly esteemed Harvard historian specializing in U.S. foreign policy — he co-authored one book with Rice. He then served on the National Security Council under President George H.W. Bush and directed the 9/11 Commission before becoming counselor to Rice at the State Department from 2005 to 2007. He currently volunteers part-time on the President’s Intelligence Advisory Board under President Obama.

Such bipartisan, establishment credentials render the breakdown and conclusion of this article all the more damning. He believes that what should have been a political and moral question — should the United States torture captives? — became strictly a legal matter left up to government lawyers, few of whom had any experience with these issues, and who had to take the necessity of extreme measures as a given. “These lawyers then became secular priests, granting absolution to the supplicant policymakers,” Zelikow writes.

The problems began when the Office of the Vice President and the CIA took central roles in policymaking. Cheney felt himself above the rest of the National Security Council, bypassing Rice and other traditional channels of national security policymaking. Ad-hoc decision-making and improvisation became “a habit of thought,” which seemed initially to pay off in the security of the nation, as well as in Bush’s political standing and self-confidence.

With Cheney and CIA head George Tenet “the key entrepreneurs in setting codes of conduct for the War on Terror,” it was essentially left to their obsequious lawyers to decide, in secret, on the interrogation methods America should employ. Bush even told the Senate’s Intelligence Committee chairman that “the vice president should be your point of contact … [He] has the portfolio for intelligence activities.” Decisions were made to jettison international treaties. By December 2001, the CIA was already interested in reverse-engineering methods “heretofore used only to treat Americans to resist enemy torture.” When a senior al-Qaida member was captured in March 2002, the prototype for the administration’s torture policies was already developed. “So, for the first time in American history, leaders of the U.S. government carefully devised ways and means to torment enemy captives.”

Zelikow notes that “None of the policy or moral issues connected with these choices appear to have been analyzed in any noticeable way.” Perhaps worst of all, no serious consideration was given to weighing the costs of benefits of the torture program, with reference to relevant historical precedents and/or examinations of the respective French, British and Israeli experiences in dealing with captured terrorists. “Bush and Rice should have insisted on this,” Zelikow writes.

The 52-page article observes the successes of Obama’s counterterrorism policies after repudiating the use of torture. On the basis of the empirical evidence then, “[t]here is no evident correlations between intelligence success and the available of extreme interrogation methods,” no matter what Bush and Cheney claim. Finally, “The program’s costs — which include the high-level effort expended in order to establish, maintain, and defense the program — appear on the evidence so far to have well outweighed any unique value the program might have had as a method of counterterrorism intelligence collection.” This is apart from the damage to America’s international standing and corrosion of its traditional values.

Zelikow concludes his analysis by arguing that, although the Obama administration has the right to wage war and use extralegal methods to defeat al-Qaida, its claim of that authority to defeat “associated forces” is unwarranted. “The U.S. government should publish and explain any overarching policy and legal documents that guide and confine the conduct of deadly operation against its foreign enemies … the executive branch of the U.S. government has a duty to articulate the scope of its warfare to the Congress and the public.” The Bush administration’s unprecedented elevation of torture to national policy may be history, but the job to get U.S. foreign policy in line with its constitutional and moral obligations is far from over.

That’s quite a fall for a man who frequently spoke of his Christian faith and family values when asked to comment on the mammoth success of his brand in the early 2000s. “When I got saved, God became my art agent,” Kinkade explained in a 2004 video. He went from a childhood in Placerville, Calif. (invariably characterized as “hard-scrabble”) to an apprenticeship selling his work in supermarket parking lots to his apotheosis as the nation’s “most profitable” artist, the Painter of Light™, and multimillionaire. He was profiled in the New Yorker by Susan Orlean.

I first learned about the dark side of the Painter of Light™ — sorry, couldn’t resist that one — when I reviewed “his” novel, “Cape Light,” in 2002. The novel, first in a series, was produced much as his paintings are: by a semi-industrial process in which low-level apprentices embellish a prefab base provided by Kinkade. He wasn’t the only artist to work in this way; he wasn’t even the only novelist. To the best of my knowledge, his novels — heartwarming, fuzzily pious tales of small-town life — have been coming out ever since, one more facet of a lifestyle brand that, at its most ambitious, included an entire Thomas Kinkade-themed housing development.

My review was just a goof intended to amuse Salon’s readers, but after it appeared, I began to receive emails from people who had sunk their life savings in Thomas Kinkade Signature Galleries (essentially, mall and shopping-district outlets for his prints) and been fleeced. I didn’t really understand how the financial architecture of Kinkade’s gallery empire worked, and I sure didn’t share their taste in wall art, but these people struck me as decent and sincere. They’d believed in Thomas Kinkade — not just in the man or the company, but in the ethos supposedly represented by his work, one in which (to quote Kinkade’s introduction to “Cape Light”) “people have the time to savor life’s simple pleasures” and lead “deep, satisfying lives.”

My conversations with these victims made me uneasy. Was there some relationship between the franchisees’ naivete, perhaps even their willful self-delusion, and their terrible taste? Was it hopelessly snobby to wonder that? What about Kinkade himself? He seemed to be at best a hypocrite and at worst a crook. Was there a meaningful connection between his bad conscience and his bad art? German thinkers of the 1930s would have said so, and they had plenty of opportunity to observe bad fascist art up close. Hermann Broch maintained that someone who chooses to make kitsch is “ethically depraved, a criminal willing radical evil.” The novelist Milan Kundera believes kitsch to be the natural expression of totalitarianism. That’s a lot of moral weight to place on a bunch of garish cottage paintings, but Kinkade was always the first to present his work as a form of ideology.

I felt compassion for the ripped-off gallery operators, and at the same time I was aware that quite a few of them had probably also fallen for the similarly sanctimonious, bogus folksiness of George W. Bush, thereby subjecting our nation to one of the worst presidents in its history. Kinkade and Bush struck me as of a piece, probably because they had both borrowed from Ronald Reagan in promising that we could get back to a better way of life that never existed in the first place. In nearly every encounter with the press, Kinkade delivered a diatribe against the art-world “establishment” that had shut him out. They were “elites” touting unfathomable, downer junk to hardworking people who needed uplift instead. Art snobs were the aesthetic counterparts of the so-called liberal elites, a group that surely included me.

At the same time, I must admit that I, too, like a cottage. Granted, I like the stylized, art-deco kind painted on bone china, rather than the insanely detailed and phosphorescently lit specimens in Kinkade’s pictures. And I’m in little danger of equating my new teacup with a Brancusi just because it’s cheerier. Nevertheless, I suspect that my idea of what’s pleasing about a cottage isn’t too different from that of Kinkade’s fans: an aura of harmless coziness, of modest domestic beauty and comfort not too cut off from the past. It’s as if we’re speaking the same word, but in different languages.

I suspect this is why Kinkade’s paintings have exerted their weird, hypnotic effect on me. They are so preposterous (especially the stream-side ones; he really needed to sit down with an architect and go over the basics of drainage), so awful. And yet I can still detect — beneath that cacophony of hollyhocks and cobblestones and snapdragons — the whisper of something intelligible. I’m pretty sure I know why the hordes of Kinkade collectors love his work, even if I don’t like it myself. Kinkade’s paintings are irredeemably false, like all kitsch, but through them you can just barely glimpse the honest desires they seek to exploit, sinking under the dreck.

Kundera defined kitsch as “the absolute denial of shit,” meaning it offers an airbrushed, sterilized, sentimentalized view of the world. From that, it doesn’t necessarily follow that art wallows in shit, but art doesn’t exist for the primary purpose of denying it, either. Kitsch is, first and foremost, a lie; its very existence is founded on bad faith.

Kinkade, like Bush, peddled a falsely simplified image of the world — one without mildew or flooded basements, for one thing — which, no surprise, turned out to be plastered over a whole lot of stinky stuff. The true believers, the ones who bought into these men the most during the 2000s, ended up paying some of the highest prices, from the Kinkade acolytes who invested in his gallery Ponzi scheme to the working-class red-staters who sent off their kids to die in a pointless war. Bad taste, harmless as it may seem, can end up costing you a lot.

Further reading

Los Angeles Times obituary for Thomas Kinkade

Susan Orlean’s 2001 profile of Thomas Kinkade for the New Yorker

A 2006 Los Angeles Times story documenting Kinkade’s business problems

Salon’s Janelle Brown visits Hiddenbrooke, a Kinkade-theme housing development in Northern California

Laura Miller reviews “Cape Light,” a novel by Thomas Kinkade and Katherine Spencer