“By then Carter had no choice. Like hisrnpredecessors, he had become poHticallyrncommitted to a course over which he nornlonger had control . . . the specifics ofrnthe program . . . went out of his handsrnand into those of the HEW professionals.”rnThese professionals, in turn, are thernsame bureaucrats who served up thernradical welfare plans of Nixon (FamilyrnAssistance Plan) and Ford (Income SupplementrnPlan), and are now determinedrnto institute a guaranteed income planrnunder the guise of welfare reformrnwhich could prove to be, as the authorrnputs it, “a social revolution of greatrnmagnitude.”rnMartin Anderson, an advisor to PresidentsrnNixon and Ford, and to GovernorrnRonald Reagan, rejects radical welfarernreform (liberal and conservative alike)rnbecause of its political impossibility. Itrncan never satisfy the three integral componentsrnof a welfare program: a minimumrnlevel of welfare benefits, the retentionrnof financial incentives to work,rnand an overall cost that is politicallyrnacceptable to the taxpayers. Andersonrnsuggests that, instead, we follow a moderaternseven point outline of “practical”rnwelfare reform that builds on existingrnprograms.rnProponents of conservative welfarernreform, like Anderson, start with therndisadvantage of facing a bureaucracyrnfavoring radical welfare reform, makingrnthe fight not so much a struggle of opposingrntheories as it is a fight against therninstitutional bias of a bureaucracy wellplacedrnto manipulate information andrnthe media, and armed with the primaryrnaccess to sophisticated computers. Andrnonce the bureaucracy, gets the administrationrncommitted to a radical welfarernplan, chances are it will stick to thatrnplan.rnAnderson’s battle with radical reformersrnis fueled largely by his opening thesisrnthat “the ‘war on poverty’ has been won.”rnEven though the Executive branch hasrnbeen overstating the level of poverty byrnas much as four times its actual figure,rnhe claims that through strong economicrngrowth, massive welfare and incomerntransfer, the number of poor in Americarnhas been reduced to 3% of the population.rnSuch explosive social improvement,rnwhile eliminating poverty, has created arnnew caste of “dependent Americans”rnwho face a “poverty wall” of high taxrnrates that destroys economic incentivesrnto work. With as much as 10% of thernnation already almost totally dependentrnon the state, Anderson warns thatrnCarter’s new welfare reform proposal, atrnan increased cost of 20 billion a year,rnand adding 22 million more Americansrnto the welfare rolls, would be an unavoidablerndisaster. DrnWelty’s TributesrnEudora Welty: The Eye of the Story:rnSelected Essays and Reviews;rnRandom House; New York.rnIt is her fondness for her subjectsrnwhich makes Eudora Welty’s latest collectionrnof stories and essays an instructivernpiece on the nature of literary criticism.rnWhether she turns her talents on thernfictional Ida M’Toy, an elderly blackrnmidwife-turned-second-hand-clothingdealer,rnor the writings of WilliamrnFaulkner, Miss Welty displays a keenrnappreciation and a loving touch. It is thisrnquality which softens her as a critic andrnmakes her, more accurately, an appreciator.rnIn a recent interview Miss Weltyrnadmitted to only writing about “somethingrnthat strikes my imagination or thatrnI can admire.” In one of her essays sherndescribes the usual effect of literaryrncriticism: “… to destroy, rather thanrnmake for a real—that is, imaginative—rnunderstanding of the author.” Thus shernconfronts the dilemma of dealing analyticallyrnwith her favorite works withoutrndestroying their magic. On Henry Greenrnshe says, “I could say that ‘Concluding’rnis like Venus on a clear evening goingrndown over water, and if you agreed—stillrnworse if you disagreed—where arernwe now.'”rnAlthough Miss Welty is a favorite ofrnthe literary orthodoxy, she has alwaysrnbeen independent from the center ofrnopinion. This independence is based onrnrnrna firm self-confidence. She is sure of herrninstincts, and for good reason. Her acuterninsights into writing, criticism and lifernserve her—and us, her readers—well.rnHer fiction is full of charm. And herrnreviews and essays contain gems suchrnas: “I believe there must be such a thingrnas sentimental hate.” Or: “Writing ofrnwhat you know has nothing to do withrnsecurity: what is more dangerous?” DrnWaste of MoneyrnWoods’ StiffnessrnDonald Woods: Biko;rnPaddinston Press; New York.rnThat Donald Woods expects the blacksrnto take over South Africa within fivernyears should come as no surprise: forrnyears he has supported efforts to bringrnSouth African blacks to power by whateverrnforce necessary. However, to callrnhistory to witness by proclaiming suchrndevelopments “inevitable” does not alterrnthe violent character of the programrnespoused by the revolutionary opponentsrnof the present regime. But it does pointrnout the optical illusion (to use Schiller’srnphrase) necessary to make it fit in withrnour perception of the rest of the Africanrnpolitical reality.rnThat Donald Woods might succumbrnto such visions of historical necessity isrnunderstandable; but the complicity of thernAmerican media critics who intonernpaeans to the Bikos of the world whilerncarrying on an active campaign of creativernignorance towards the equally inevitablernterror, massacres, and oppression whichrnwill characterize the regimes of the revolutionaryrnpretenders—such benign andrnintentional neglect is inexcusable, andrnhardly worthy of a “free” press.rnThat Donald Woods does not labor tornpoint out the well-documented recordsrnof blacks already mutilated and terrorizedrnby the black revolutionaries in theirrnattempt to stifle all black competition is,rnagain, understandable. The emotional,rnalmost frantic tone of his book reflectsrn21rnChronicles of Culturern