By 1941, Harry S Truman had been a United States senator long enough, and brilliantly enough, to erase some of the taint that he carried with him to Washington. He had some associations with the Kansas City, Missouri, political machine of "Boss" TJ Pendergast. It was to his credit that in his previous political roles, which included overseeing and awarding road contracts, he never enriched himself. (In fact, he would be just about broke when he left the White House in 1953).
That's part of the reason that when he orchestrated a committee, within 18 months it was effective and powerful. As the United States, in early 1941, was not yet in the war, it was involved in the Lend-Lease program, sharing military equipment with allies. Truman wanted to investigate waste and shoddy contracting, deeply concerned at the bedfellowship of the military and big corporations. By mid-1943, just the threat of Truman Committee investigators arriving at a steel plant or military base was often enough to make shady practices evaporate.
Truman, who had been the captain of an artillery battalion in World War I, was generally distrustful of big business and driven by both general agreement with New Deal practices and genuine patriotism. He firmly believed that it was abhorrent to allow substandard steel to be used in ships and planes - potentially killing troops - for the benefit of profiteering. And he firmly believed that the German military and its leader must be stopped.
In listening to an unabridged audiobook (56 hours!) on Truman, I've been struck by how basic Truman's patriotism was. He loved his country - and he applauded and encouraged civilian contributions to the war effort. My dad, who was not quite 11 years old in 1945, says that he remembers vividly the unity of spirit, the knowledge that we were all in this together. People saved their fat and traded it to the butcher, used ration cards, avoided making long-distance calls on holidays so that soldiers could call loved ones where possible.
Earlier this week, by contrast, I learned that for some people, gasoline is the new toilet paper. If you remember, in the early months of COVID-19, people were panic-buying toilet paper because they did not know when they would be able to get more. Most people behaved themselves, but some are reporting that they still know folks with excess 24-packs in the garage. When ransomware hacked the Southeastern Pipeline, temporarily disrupting the supply of gasoline to filling stations, most people behaved themselves. Lines formed, but they moved along. When I was low on gas and needed to fill up on Wednesday, there was gas at the pump when it was my turn and I was able to get what I needed.
But social media has also shown numerous photographs of people filling eight or ten ten-gallon gas cans and stacking them in the back of their SUVs. And multiple reports of people finally reaching the pump and discovering it empty.
That's panic-buying verging on hoarding. Something that was actually against the law in World War II - and something that comparatively few people engaged in.
Social media has also shown photographs of people endangering themselves and others by ignorance of the principles of chemistry. There's a reason that gas stations have signs about putting gas only in approved containers. And yet, we've seen photos of car trunks filled with bulging, tied-shut plastic bags filled with gasoline. Or people pumping gas into open plastic tubs. And as with the toilet paper, most of us are behaving ourselves, but I'm waiting for a news article about a car exploding because of a trunk full of gasoline.
Obviously, society has changed drastically since World War II. And one of the things I'd like to see make a return is a sense of shared obligation. At the very beginning of the pandemic, it went well for the most part. But after only a few months of sheltering in place, a lot of people, having had enough, insisted on engaging in shopping, dining out, and gathering for motorcycle rallies. During the war, rationing of certain items, including gasoline, went on for three full years. People complained, but they understood.
When the pipeline got hacked, we didn't even wait three days, much less three years. As cyberattacks become increasingly a threat, maybe it's time to bring back the ration books.
