EDITORnThomas FlemingnMANAGING EDITORnKatherine DaltonnSENIOR EDITOR, BOOKSnChilton “Williamson, ]r.nASSISTANT EDITORnTheodore PappasnART DIRECTORnAnna Mycek-WodeckinCONTRIBUTING EDITORSnJohn W. Aldridge, Harold O.J.nBrown, Samuel Francis, GeorgenGarrett, Russell Kirk, E. ChristiannKopff, Clyde WilsonnCORRESPONDING EDITORSnJanet Scott Barlow, Odie Faulk,nJane Greer, John Shelton Reed,nGary VasilashnEDITORIAL SECRETARYnLeann DobbsnPUBLISHERnAllan C. CarlsonnASSOCIATE PUBLISHERnMichael WardernPUBLICATION DIRECTORnGuy C. ReffettnCOMPOSITION MANAGERnAnita FedoranCIRCULATION MANAGERnRochelle FranknA publication of The Rockford Institute.nEditorial and Advertising Offices: 934 NorthnMain Street, Rockford, IL 61103.nEditorial Phone: (815) 964-5054.nAdvertising Phone: (815) 964-5811.nSubscription Department: P.O. Box 800, MountnMorris, IL 61054. Call 1-800-435-0715, innIllinois 1-800-892-0753.nFor information on advertising in Chronicles,nplease call Cathy Corson at (815) 964-5811.nU.S.A. Newsstand Distribution by EasternnNews Distributors, Inc., 1130 Cleveland Road,nSandusky, OH 44870.nCopyright © 1990 by The Rockford Institute.nAll rights reserved.nChronicles (ISSN 0887-5731) is publishednmonthly for $24 per year by The RockfordnInstitute, 934 North Main Street, Rockford, ILn61103-7061.nSecond-class postage paid at Rockford, IL andnadditional mailing offices.nPOSTMASTER: Send address changes tonChronicles, P.O. Box 800, Mount Morris, ILn61054.nThe views expressed in Chronicles are thenauthors’ alone and do not necessarily reflect thenviews of The Rockford Institute or of itsndirectors. Unsolicited manuscripts cannot benreturned unless accompanied by a self-addressednstamped envelope.nChroniclesnI HAGUIHE OF tMEMCtN CULIUMn4/CHRONICLESnVol. 15, No. 2 February 1991nOn ‘Good News’nPOLEMICS & EXCHANGESnThe message of the thoughtful andnbeautifully written articles in Chroniclesn(December 1990) on “goodnnews” seems to be this: things are verynbad and bound to get worse, but if younresign yourself to the inevitable andnconcentrate on family and friends younmay, with God’s help, get through it. Ifnthis is “good news,” I wonder what mynChronicles friends would consider andisaster.nAs a New Yorker born and bred, thenStoic route of quiet resignation is simplynnot for me. But neither is it quitenthe New Yorker’s way to rage, ragenagainst the dying of the light, althoughnthat’s a lot more like it. The true NewnYorker faces the situation with a quip, anwisecrack, with high wit; in short, henbelieves in his bones that it is better tonlaugh than to cry. And so I don’t resentnChilton Williamson (“Kick It As ItnLays”) when he says that the goodnnews is that everyone now recognizesnthat New York has become a zoonwithout bars, for every sane NewnYorker agrees. He knows the problemnas well as, and even more than, anynoutside observer.nBut New York was not always thus.nNew York was once a wonderful, vibrant,nexciting city; it was never anMelting Pot, but it was, in many ways,nin Mayor Dinkins’ notorious phrase, an”gorgeous mosaic.” In the 1920’s andn1930’s, many families habitually sleptnin Central Park on hot summer nights,neven at the Hadem end. In the 1940’s,nI and many other whites used to go tonthe famed Apollo Theater in Harlemnto hear singers like Pearl Bailey and tonwatch vaudeville acts, and none of thenwhites ever felt a trace of fear. Thenstreets, if not exactly clean, were notnthe garbage-strewn cesspools that theynare today.nThe streets, in fact, were friendlynand colorful and not menacing; youncould be a Walker in the City andnremain hassle-free. There were plentynof eccentrics, but they were harmlessnand fun. Idealists on soapboxes wereneverywhere, and Columbus Circle wasnNew York’s answer to Hyde Park.nnnIdeologies ranged across the spectrum,nfrom Marxist sects to village Hayekians,nconvinced that the problem wasnthe “greed and grab” of politicians andnspecial interest groups. There was answeet innocence about them all. Therenwere no “homeless” then, even in thenmidst of the Great Depression. Therenwere a few bums and winos, and ifnfriends from out-of-town were anxiousnto see them you could take themndowntown to The Bowery, where thenbums hung out amidst bars and flophouses.nThe Bowery was in essence anred-light district for the bum population.nHow was the peace so well maintained?nSimply that if the cops caught anbum outside the confines of The Bowery,nhe was unceremoniously pickednup and hustled down there, the copsnmaking it clear in no uncertain terms,nfree of the modern Problems of Communication,nthat they better not catchnsaid bum outside The Bowery evernagain. If anyone had raised the point’nthat bums had a “constitutional right”nto clutter the streets and hassle innocentncitizens for money, he would havenbeen dismissed as insane.nAnd how come there were no muggers?nThe crime theorists among ChicagonSchool economists emphasizenthat to deter crime, punishment mustnbe certain and severe. But they missnthe key point. In Austrian School lingo,nmuggers have a very high “timenpreference,” that is, their range ofnforesight is about one half-hour, sonthey don’t really care about punishmentnafter a couple of years of indictmentnand trial. To deter crime, punishmentnmust be immediate, and the copsnin those days, steeped in such wisdomnand patrolling the beat, were ready tonadminister such condign punishment.nIt was well known that if the copsnspotted a mugger, the mugger’s ride tonthe station and his sojourn in thenstation house would be extremely unpleasant.nIt was that prospect of immediatenretribution that kept what NewnYorkers these days refer to as “thenanimals” in severe check.nSo New York is going down thendrain fast. But the more interestingn