What does 'buying American' really mean?

There was a time when it was more straightforward to buy American.    Now, besides the obvious scarcity of ‘Made in the USA’ labels, it’s hard to know if buying an American brand really means buying American.  Wrangler, a quintessentially American icon, has not made jeans in the United States since 2005.  Even names like Levi's, Carhartt, and Big Ben which bring up images of salt-of-the-earth Americans, are mostly made outside our borders.  (I really like my American-made REI socks, Redwing shoes, and Diamond Gusset Jeans.)  The Budweiser Clydesdales? Born and bred in the USA.  But Anheuser-Busch is now owned by AB InBev, a Belgian/Brazilian company.  A few years ago, I saw a ‘support the troops’ wristband, with a prominent ‘Made in China’ label on the inside.  It’s hard to wear something like that with pride, knowing that the worthy sentiment on the outside is undermined by the reality on the inside.  While the recent revelations about the Foxconn factory in China have made us squirm a bit about our iPhones and iPads, it's not just Apple: Foxconn produces about 40% of the world's electronics.

A few years ago, my wife and I had been trying to do our homework as we considered buying a new car.  We liked the idea of buying American, particularly with so many American workers struggling.  We liked the idea of buying a car that gets good gas mileage, for all the obvious reasons.  We also wanted something that looked and drove like a regular car. Up until then, Japanese cars had an absolute lock in the mileage department.  The Prius, with its not very regular-car looks led the pack, with the Camry, Civic, and Altima hybrids more efficient than most other mid-size cars, and with good reviews for satisfaction.  So, it was satisfying to start reading the reviews of the Ford Fusion hybrid and its Mercury Milan hybrid twin (now discontinued, but replaced by the Lincoln MKZ hybrid).  These cars performed well, with most reviewers preferring them as driving cars to all of the aforementioned Japanese cars, and besting all but the Prius in the mileage department.

            In that moment, I was especially proud to be an American.  Here was the car that would satisfy us on all levels: American, great gas mileage, well made, nice looks, fun to drive.  I was ready to see American ingenuity and American elbow grease back in full swing.

            But then I kept reading. 

Part of the reason that the Fusion and Milan are fun to drive is that they are based on the Mazda6, a Japanese design.  (Although the 2013 model is based on a European design). And although we would be buying an American brand, these cars are made in Hermosillo, Mexico.  

As it turns out, Cadillac Escalades, the heavier duty Dodge Rams, and Chevy Avalanche are also made in Mexico. The Chrysler 300, Ford Flex, and Chevy Camaro are made in Canada.  On the other hand, BMW, Honda, Hyundai, Kia, Mercedes, Mitsubishi, Nissan, Subaru, Suzuki and Toyota all have manufacturing plants in the US.  And, as publicly traded companies, these domestic and foreign companies are owned by many nationalities.  To muddy the picture even further, the parts that are used to build these cars come from many sources inside and outside our borders.  Which of these is truly an American car? All of the above? None of the above?

Now what?

            So, what is the ‘right’ thing to do at this point?  I don’t really know.  In many ways, supporting the good American people who put in an honest day’s work building cars, no matter what the label reads, feels the best.  But maybe it’s better to support Ford the American corporation, hoping that boosting the company will save jobs here eventually.  And, sure, Mexico deserves to have good factory jobs too:  a stronger job market there eases the need for impoverished workers to migrate here in search of work.  But don’t we deserve to have good factory jobs?  Do we need to provide their jobs?  Do US carmakers really expect unemployed Americans to buy cars?  (Since first writing this, the Chevy Volt has become available, which is made in Detroit, but with an Austrian engine and Japanese transmission.)

            For our situation, I can’t see a way forward without some sort of compromise.  Do we buy the Fusion hybrid, which seems best suited to our needs?  Do we stick with good mileage but support US workers with a Camry hybrid?  Or do we buy an American-made American-branded car with poor fuel efficiency, which means buying more (mostly) foreign oil?  For now, I’m still happy with my American-made, American-branded Intrepid.  Maybe I’ll just keep the old thing running and support my local American mechanic.

Why Rush's "two words" were so effective

When Sandra Fluke testified before Congress last month, Rush Limbaugh ranted in his usual profane way, drawing massive attention to his use of "slut" and "prostitute" to describe her, although his "reaction" to her speech shows little evidence that he actually watched her testimony.  There were, of course, many other subtler insults, from calling her a co-ed to mispronouncing her name, not to mention suggesting that she post video of her sexual encounters (no doubt for him to enjoy with his insurance-covered Viagra).  He apologized as sincerely as Rush ever does for using "those two words", but in so doing he successfully highjacked the conversation.  The most insidious thing he did was to implant the idea in the public that she wants taxpayers or an employer to pay for birth control.  In reality, she pays for her own insurance.  Her friend with the ruptured ovarian cyst secondary to polycystic ovarian syndrome pays for her own insurance.  Like any good con man, Rush distracted our attention from his real purpose through razzle-dazzle.  His  style, of course, is his vulgar, petty, "shock and 'baugh," which should surprise no one.

We, of course, are to blame as well.  In our sound-bite-gobbling way, we do not tend to listen to the whole story.  Sandra Fluke repeatedly stated that she pays for her own insurance.  What we heard is what he concluded before he ever watched the video.  What we heard were those two words.