Most people have probably heard of self-published books. Perhaps they have read one in their lifetime. If not, here's a quick explanation: would-be authors pay a set fee to a publishing house or printing company to run off copies of a book for future release in a bookstore. The author of a self-published title has to make arrangements for the following: art for the cover page and inside pages, an ISBN number, and a deal with a bookstore to carry said work for a specified amount of time.
With so many books being released each year, what would possess an individual to go through a vanity press? Most newspapers and journals will not review self-published titles, thereby reducing potential media exposure. Some book editors are dismissive of vanity publications, seeing them as inferior works that couldn't cut the mustard with major and minor publishing houses. Self-published books are not profitable, and the number of remainders in each store are occasionally staggering. But this isn't always the case.
This month's column will examine two self-published books. The authors decided that the normal delay in publication would hurt their chances for proper media attention. As a result, they decided to absorb the cost of an earlier printing date and released their works a few months ahead of schedule. These two examples should prove that going the route of a vanity press does not necessarily lead to the publication of mediocre, uninteresting books.
I. An academic in the world of politics
Herbert Grubel is Professor of Economics Emeritus at Simon Fraser University, and the author of numerous books and papers. And yet, most Canadians are probably only familiar with Grubel from his brief stint as a Reform Party MP. Grubel's self-published autobiography, A Professor in Parliament: Experiencing a Turbulent Parliament and Reform Party Caucus, 1993-97 (Gordon Soules Publishers Limited, 297 pages, ISBN: 0968678300), describes his incredible journey from conservative academic to political neophyte. Believe it or not, Grubel went from playing tennis with Milton Friedman to sitting in the Canadian House of Commons!
As a young man in Germany, Grubel watched in horror as a steady stream of people with yellow stars passed him in the streets. Thankfully, a better life was in store for him in North America. He studied at Rutgers and Yale, and spent three years at the University of Chicago. Grubel was an excellent researcher, and wrote papers on international trade theory and the international monetary system. He taught at B.C.'s Simon Fraser University, and worked with the Fraser Institute. Grubel's academic accomplishments and research are still in high demand, and deservedly so.
It's fair to say, however, that this book wouldn't have been written had Grubel not entered the world of politics. More than half of A Professor in Parliament is spent on Grubel's one term in Ottawa. In 1992, Reform approached Grubel to run as a candidate. As he noted, "Fiscal conservatism, of course, was the most important part of the Reform platform. As a party formed just recently by the grassroots, it was seeking candidates who had not been previously involved with other parties. In short, I fit the bill." His solid conservative credentials helped him win the Reform nomination in the B.C. riding of Capilano-Howe Sound, a seat in parliament in the 1993 federal election, leading to a successful two-year run as the party's Finance Critic.
Grubel faced a great deal of adversity as a politician. During the election campaign, he was attacked by a left-wing SFU colleague, Marjorie Cohen, who was quoted as saying, "He out-right wings the right-wingàHe's outrageous in his anti-feminism and he's a dangerous man with his views on minorities." Later, a CBC reporter came up to him after an all-candidates meeting, and tried to get his reaction on an outrageous assertion that Grubel had denied the Holocaust in public. Grubel and his wife "cried in each other's arms" that evening, and he "regretted the day [he] had agreed to enter politics." Grubel's widely misinterpreted speech about the conditions of Native Canadian communities is also discussed. Grubel wanted to promote personal freedom and self-reliance for native communities. In this spirit, he suggested changes to Canada's policies on native issues, including building up a free market ideology to get them off welfare. He used a hypothetical example of a group of people receiving a large inheritance from a rich uncle. They moved to the South Seas to live in paradise, but most became bored and left, "having discovered the truth that life without work holds no meaning." This analogy turned out to be a political mistake. Headlines such as "Native reserves are like South Sea Islands" briefly left Grubel in seclusion, wondering about his political future.
Grubel was turned off by politics, and left Ottawa before the 1997 federal election. He was tired of constant personal attacks on his reputation and the intentional misinterpretation of his political statements. His influence in politics was limited. His research skills rarely came in handy. He was never close with Reform leader Preston Manning; his leader's decision to attack political opponents instead of engaging in intellectual discussions in Question Period proved to Grubel that "the sizzle was more important than the steak."
Grubel was proud to have served in federal politics, but he felt that research and education were more deserving of his efforts. Near the end of A Professor in Parliament, a 1998 letter from Friedman was reprinted, "Congratulations on not seeking re-election. I have no doubt whatsoever that you will be far more influential from the outside than would have been on the inside." And in deed, this seems to be the case.
II. Another fine mess by the NDP!
Mark Milke, the B.C. director for the Canadian Taxpayers Federation, is a vocal critic of the B.C. NDP. He watched from Victoria as former Premiers Mike Harcourt and Glen Clark were caught up in controversy and proven incompetence during their time in powerùincompetence that had the effect of undermining the province's strong levels of economic freedom, sending it into a state of turmoil and disarray.
Milke's self-published book, Barbarians in the Garden City: The B.C. NDP in Power (Thomas & Black Publishers, 208 pages, ISBN: 0968791506), is an important analysis of the decade-long path of destruction that B.C. was forced to follow by the ruling fist of the NDP. Milke critiques the NDP's restrictive policies on human rights, environmentalism, taxation, economic growth, and native issues. He argues effectively that one party can destroy a province's past, and what is achievable in the present and future in a short period of time.
Although the book is primarily about B.C. provincial politics, Milke writes in a fluid, entertaining style that will intrigue non-B.C. residents. He discusses the powerful link between the NDP and labour unions, including the government's approval of necessary and unnecessary public sector wage increases. As noted by Milke, "public sector unions would be the reincarnated body of choice: they were quite adept at carving up the government who, in theory, was supposed to look out for the general welfare of taxpayers on occasion. The reality was quite different." He correctly mocks the "occasional stage-managed spat" between the NDP and representatives of the public sector, claiming that it had "all the suspense of a World Wrestling Federation match, but both parties played their respective roles with dramatic flourish."
Barbarians in the Garden City admonishes the B.C. NDP for clamping down on freedom of speech. Milke goes after the provincial election gag law with relish, claiming that the government saw voters as nothing more than "shrinking violets," unable to properly absorb conflicting political ideas. As the author notes, "who better to do it than the BC NDP û a party that had a lot to lose if real ideas, as opposed to fluffy, recycled 1960s-era clichTs, were openly debated." The same attitude seemed to exist in the B.C. human rights commission, which predictably took left-wing positions on issues concerning minorities, gender, and gay rights. The meaning of discrimination and hate crimes became badly twisted in the province, leading to restrictions of free exchanges of ideas. Democracy and freedom, it seems, both took a back seat during the NDP's reign of error.
Milke summed up the NDP in this fashion: after its "pride (in their moral superiority) weakened and prejudice (in their economic ideas) ebbed away, there was little left but undivided and undiluted power." Socialists are supposed to represent the little people, but the B.C. NDP actually represented nothing more than a big power grab. They abused political power, ignored the rights of citizens, overtaxed the province, and kissed up to the public sector. One can only hope that current B.C. Premier Gordon Campbell, a Liberal and (surprisingly) a fiscal conservative, can fix the political and economic mess that Milke has aptly identified.