THE STATE : A Speech That Confronts California’s Worst Nightmare

In California in 1994, about 30,000 babies were born to mothers aged 17 or younger; the mothers of 6,000 of them were 15 or younger. That same year, there were 664,000 reports of child abuse or neglect filed with state authorities. Also, juvenile arrests in California are projected to increase by nearly 30% in the next eight years.

None of these statistics surfaced in Gov. Pete Wilson’s State of the State address last week. But they, and a host of other unpleasant truths, provide the only context that matters for his speech, its policy proposals and the budget that seeks to propel its ideas forward. The governor devoted almost half his speech to juvenile crime and children born into families without fathers. His priorities are right.

But California’s political pundits seem fixated on the theme of “whither Wilson?” Some wonder whether the governor is trying to resuscitate his image of “compassionate conservative.” Others wrongly suggest that Wilson has dropped the “divisive” issues of illegal immigration and racial quotas in contracting, hiring and higher-education admissions. Still others predict a long battle between Wilson and Assembly Republicans over abortion funding. The silliest comment scores Wilson for his “inconsistency.”

Leo Strauss, the renowned political theorist, once dealt with the issue of another politician’s reputed inconsistency--that of Edmund Burke. Critics of the 18th-century conservative thinker have always contended that his positions never lined up coherently. All his speeches, wrote Strauss, were “means to serve an immediately practical purpose. Accordingly, his presentation of political principles changed, to a certain degree, with the change of the political situation. Hence, he might easily appear to have been inconsistent.

“In fact,” Strauss concluded, “[Burke] adhered throughout his career to the same principles. . . . [He] stated his principles most forcefully and most clearly when such a statement was most urgently needed.”

Five years into his tenure as governor, Wilson is asserting his principles most forcefully and attending to a series of core issues. In the past year and a half, he has directed attention to the huge financial cost of illegal immigration and to the federal government’s refusal to pay its share of that burden. He has invigorated the long-ignored issues of racial and gender quotas. With his State of the State, Wilson has waded into the most important issue of them all--the omnipresence of moral poverty.

In the Nov. 17 issue of The Weekly Standard, John J. DiIulio Jr., director of the Brookings Institution’s Center for Public Management, reviews the demographic data and trends in juvenile crime. He concludes that the country, and especially California, is hurtling toward a staggering increase in very violent crime committed by very violent young people. In 1985, 49,900 juveniles were incarcerated. Six years later, that number had jumped to 58,000. DiIulio projects a juvenile incarceration rate of 150,000 in just a few years--and these juveniles are exponentially more violent than the juvenile lawbreakers of even 10 years ago.

This is the backdrop of Wilson’s speech and the proposals he has made to head off this nightmarish scenario. The governor’s demand for an overhaul of the juvenile-justice system is an attack on the problem of young criminals. His call for single-sex schools, as well as for an expanded commitment to mentoring programs, are two attempts to rescue youth before they land in court. They are good beginning ideas but much more needs to be done.

In his speech, Wilson could have exclusively trumpeted the real increases in education funding made possible by an economy beginning to emerge from recession. The proposed K-12 increase of $1.7 billion, and the $100 million more for higher education, would have been a natural centerpiece of his speech.

If political posturing had been his main purpose, Wilson could have touted the fact that California’s economy is now creating jobs at a faster clip than the rest of the country; that the state’s overall crime rate has hit the lowest point in a decade, and that the number of welfare recipients at work has doubled since 1993.

But he didn’t.

Wilson’s voice isn’t booming and his delivery will never be mistaken for that of the Gipper, but he is pounding away on central propositions: A sovereign country must control its borders. All people are created equal, thus it is immoral to penalize or reward individuals on the basis of group identity and immutable characteristics. Children need two parents exerting control and discipline and providing moral guidance. Criminals must receive swift and certain punishment. Schools that fail must be shuttered. Any kind of work is preferable to any kind of welfare.

These propositions ought not be controversial. They are, and that underscores how pervasive is the moral decay at the heart of contemporary culture.

Of course, even if by some miracle every member of the state’s Senate and Assembly and the governor were to agree tomorrow on budgets and laws for the next 10 years, the state’s prospects would still be dire. DiIulio’s warning is embedded in exhaustive studies and demographic facts that cannot be reversed.

Any time a politician, by word or deed, encourages citizens to elevate their view to moral principle, and to think on how the law ought to evolve to reflect that principle, that official is fulfilling their highest calling. Wilson deserves applause for an unflinching address that keeps faith with his honorable career’s best moments.