Billy Graham died. And I’ve seen several posts in my Facebook feed saying, in effect, “Good riddance.  The world is better without Billy Graham in it.”

I don’t know very much about Billy Graham, but I’m curious about this instinct to declare judgment on his life. How would one know whether Billy Graham had a net positive or net negative impact on the world?

The man had five kids, 19 grandchildren, and presumably even more great-grandchildren.  What impact will all of them have on the world?  Will it be net positive or net negative?  He was a counselor to presidents of both parties and a minister to millions of people.  How could we possibly know what effect he had on public policy or the lives of those who listened to his sermons?

He also said some very ugly, anti-Semitic things in telephone call with Richard Nixon over 40 years ago.  And he once claimed that AIDS might be a form of punishment inflicted on the gay community by God.  Then he apologized — seemingly sincerely — for both of those statements.

What’s interesting to me is how arrogant one would have to be to  claim that “the world is better off” when someone dies, especially if you’ve never met that person.   In effect, you’re casting yourself in the role of God, declaring who goes to heaven and who goes to hell.

But the people saying these things are non-religious and present themselves as the opposite of arrogant.

This is astounding.  Back in 2009-10, I used to share this Calculated Risk chart with folks to get them to understand how devastating and persistent the job losses were after the financial crisis (especially when compared to prior recessions).

But now the very same chart tells a very different story.  The job recovery has been incredibly steady.  We’re coming up on 100 months of strong, persistent job growth.

Given the strong job market, when will workers begin to demand more in wages?

In the last two days, about 14 different random amazing things have happened to me.

It all started with this: Yesterday I’m waiting in line at the restroom of a cafe, and a random very young girl approaches and says, “Can I ask you something? I think I’m on a date. I’ve never been on a date before. He just paid for everything, and I really like him. What do I do?”

Over on Facebook, everyone wants to know what I told her to do.  But I don’t think she was actually looking for advice.  She just wanted someone to share her excitement with.  I think I offered something like “keep your cool.”

“I feel like such an adult,” she says.

This moment made my whole day.  And I would *never* have done what that girl did.  But why wouldn’t I?  Why wouldn’t I choose to share a moment of joy with a total stranger?  What’s holding me back?

And that was just the start.  Other good stuff…

*Running late for an event at the Last Bookstore in DTLA, I find a parking spot, *directly outside the front door*

*Getting up painfully early, I discover that, yes, the eclipsed moon is indeed setting right over Griffith Observatory, as I had hoped it might.

*After dragging my tired ass to drinks with a friend last night at 10 pm (sort of dreading it), we run into three of his colleagues, all of whom are prosecutors in the DA’s anti-gang unit. Really fun conversation leads to late night.

During the debate about the Republican tax overhaul, there was quite a bit of Sturm und Drang about how the bill will exacerbate income inequality.  Well, yes, it probably will, on the margin.  It cuts marginal tax rates on the highest levels of income, and it provides lots of protections for certain types of income — like passthrough income — that will benefit more rich people than non-rich people.

But no one — including the Democrats — is talking about the main source of inequality in the tax code.  The long-term capital gains rate.   If you buy something (say, a house or a share of stock) at a low price and then later sell it a higher price, you pay a lower tax on that income than you would if you made the same amount of income by toiling as a lawyer, janitor, or any other job.  The rates vary with your total income, but the most you can pay on long-term capital gains is 20%.  Taxes on wage income range up to 37%.

My investor friends argue that the lower rate is necessary as an incentive.  Why would they put their money to work in the economy, if they aren’t given this special tax break?

But I think it’s a horrible argument.  There are two primary ways to participate in the productive economy: (1) You can employ your time (by working), or (2) You can employ your money (by investing).  Money and time are interchangeable.  You can use one to purchase the other.  And vice versa.   But the tax code treats them very differently.

From a public policy perspective, we want to encourage both forms of participation in the economy.  By giving a special incentive for people to invest their money in the economy, we’re giving people a special disincentive to invest their time.

The issue here is fairness.  Poor people don’t have a lot of money to invest, but they do have their own time.  The wealthy typically have a surplus of money.

Why do we penalize the form of economic activity that is available to poor people?