The Dish

Kenneth C. Davis credits Lincoln with issuing “the first two in an unbroken string of presidential Thanksgiving proclamations,” but notes that “the elevation of Thanksgiving to a true national holiday [was] a feat accomplished by Franklin D. Roosevelt.” He reminds us that Americans initially found Roosevelt’s holiday politically polarizing:

In 1939, with the nation still struggling out of the Great Depression, the traditional Thanksgiving Day fell on the last day of the month – a fifth Thursday. Worried retailers, for whom the holiday had already become the kickoff to the Christmas shopping season, feared this late date. Roosevelt agreed to move his holiday proclamation up one week to the fourth Thursday, thereby extending the critical shopping season.

Some states stuck to the traditional last Thursday date, and other Thanksgiving traditions, such as high school and college football championships, had already been scheduled. This led to Roosevelt critics deriding the earlier date as “Franksgiving.” With 32 states joining Roosevelt’s “Democratic Thanksgiving, ” 16 others stuck with the traditional date, or “Republican Thanksgiving.” After some congressional wrangling, in December 1941, Roosevelt signed the legislation making Thanksgiving a legal holiday on the fourth Thursday in November. And there it has remained.

Josh Zeitz elaborates:

Though Republicans were louder in articulating their opposition, the split between Thanksgiving and “Franksgiving” states was not strictly partisan; rather, it was ideological.

Among those states that shunned Roosevelt’s designated holiday were Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Kentucky, North Carolina, Oklahoma and Tennessee. Texas, home of Vice President John Nance Garner, split the baby and recognized both dates as a holiday. While Georgia did adhere to FDR’s decree, the editor of the Warm Springs Mirror—effectively FDR’s hometown paper when he wasn’t in Washington—echoed the criticism of conservative Democrats when he suggested that the president move his birthday “up a few months until June, maybe … I don’t believe it would be any more trouble than the Thanksgiving shift.”

Were people angry, as some editorialists suggested, that the president was ruining collegiate football (after all, most of the big rivals had long before scheduled their Thanksgiving games, and for many schools, the season ended entirely the Saturday following the holiday)? Perhaps that was part of it. But mostly, it was a shifting political ground that gave conservative opponents of the New Deal from both parties greater confidence to criticize and ridicule a widely popular president.

Meanwhile, Stephen L. Carter surveys a history of political friction during the holiday. Citing James Madison’s Thanksgiving Proclamation of 1814 – delivered during the War of 1812 – he urges Americans to “put aside our divisions and to approach our blessings with gratitude and humility”:

We’re a divided nation in so many ways. In our responses to everything from the Affordable Care Act to Ferguson to climate change, we’re constantly at one another’s throats, treating those who disagree as enemies to be derided rather than fellow citizens who are part of a common project. College students are being taught to ban speakers whose messages discomfit them. Political parties, egged on by talk show hosts, are raising money through raising fears of diabolical conspiracies. …

We’re an imperfect country, and always will be. The “distinguished favors” and “precious advantages” of which Madison spoke may not always be equally distributed, but they are what mark the nation as distinctive. We can do no greater honor to our forebears than adopting an attitude of respect and humility across our differences, as we give thanks for the remarkable project that is America.

Michael Brendan Dougherty recommends we avoid political squabbling over Thanksgiving:

These advice columns are becoming a genre unto themselves. The stock villain: crazy right-wing uncle, the jokes about stuffing. But I recognize them by what they unwittingly emulate: guides for religious evangelism. The gentle, righteous self-regard, the slightly orthogonal response guides, the implied urgency to cure your loved ones of their ignorance. Your raging uncle will know the truth, and the truth will set him free.

That’s a problem. Our politics are taking on a religious shape. Increasingly we allow politics to form our moral identity and self-conception. We surround ourselves with an invisible community of the “elect” who share our convictions, and convince ourselves that even our closest and beloved relatives are not only wrong, but enemies of goodness itself. And so one of the best, least religious holidays in the calendar becomes a chance to deliver your uncle up as a sinner in the hands of an angry niece.

I’m as guilty of this as anyone.

As a conservative raised in an argumentative and left-leaning Irish-American family, Thanksgiving and other holiday dinners did more than any professional media training to prepare me for MSNBC panels. But arguments like these, particularly when we allow politics to dominate our notions of ourselves, can leave lasting scars. And precisely because our familial relationships are so personal, the likely responses to our creamed and beaten talking points will be defensive, anxious, off-subject, or overly aggressive.

Lizzie Crocker presents one scenario you might relate to:

You are in a steady, long-term relationship with someone whom you adore despite her fringe politics (you are even starting to come around on her anti-vax opinions). Alas your family cannot stand her, not just because they disagree with her political views, but because they find her to be preachy and self-righteous, and because she refuses to put on “nice” clothes when they see her. (Your mother telephoned to ask if she would be wearing yoga pants to Thanksgiving dinner again this year.) But for some unfathomable reason, you really love this woman who lives in her Lululemon everything and who is forcing you to do a five-day juice cleanse with her after the holiday.

Can’t everyone open their narrow minds and try to get along? [Marriage and family therapist Jenn] Berman suggests “setting up boundaries” and warning family members who are prone to starting fights that you’ll “give them one warning if they do so and then leave if things escalate.”

Stephen L. Carter is much more sweeping:

We’re a divided nation in so many ways. In our responses to everything from the Affordable Care Act to Ferguson to climate change, we’re constantly at one another’s throats, treating those who disagree as enemies to be derided rather than fellow citizens who are part of a common project. College students are being taught to ban speakers whose messages discomfit them. Political parties, egged on by talk show hosts, are raising money through raising fears of diabolical conspiracies.

Even Lincoln, in the midst of so desperate a war, conceded that the enemy was “of our own household.” This was an enemy actually being fought on the battlefield. The very day before Lincoln’s proclamation of Thanksgiving, the Union had won its costly victory at the Battle of Cedar Creek, suffering more than 5,600 casualties, including some 3,400 dead. Yet Lincoln evidenced a belief that those who fought against the Union were not monsters, but wayward brothers.

We’re an imperfect country, and always will be. The “distinguished favors” and “precious advantages” of which Madison spoke may not always be equally distributed, but they are what mark the nation as distinctive. We can do no greater honor to our forebears than adopting an attitude of respect and humility across our differences, as we give thanks for the remarkable project that is America.

Adam Minter predicts Thanksgiving-type travel days year-round in coming years:

[E]ven with billions worth of improvements in the pipeline, the picture for travelers remains bleak. Of the 30 busiest U.S. airports (accounting for 70 percent of total U.S. passenger flow), 13 already feel like the day before Thanksgiving one day a week on average. Three airports — Midway, Las Vegas McCarran, and Orlando International — suffer those levels of congestion twice a week. Worse yet, the capacity improvements that are currently slated won’t help much. Within six years, the study notes, 27 of the 30 busiest airports will be Thanksgiving-busy at least once a week.

That this state of affairs is unnatural should be apparent to anyone who flies outside the U.S. even occasionally. In 2011, the World Economic Forum ranked U.S. aviation infrastructure 32nd in the world — behind Malaysia (an assessment that, in my personal experience, remains accurate). This is both embarrassing and somewhat predictable. Developing countries such as Malaysia strongly subsidize airports and airlines, viewing them as important marketing opportunities and first-impression makers.

Clive Irving hates how airlines jam so many seats into coach:

Looking through photographs from the early days of U.S. airlines, I found a shot of the cabin of the Boeing 247, circa 1934. The 247 was the first airplane really to define the form of a modern airliner, flying faster and higher than any predecessor. The passengers in the photo are enjoying a standard of comfort undreamed of in coach today: only one seat on each side of the aisle, generous leg room, nice wide seat cushions, and seat backs shaped to reflect the curves of the human body. Some of the ladies are wearing furs and hats. Even a 200-pounder could sink contentedly into the space without encroaching on anyone else.

In 1934, those passengers paid $160 for a one-way flight from Newark to San Francisco, in today’s money $2,800. This was at the depths of the Great Depression. In its infancy, air travel was a luxury only the wealthy could afford as they flew nonchalantly over the states where the likes of Ma and Pa Joad were fleeing the Dust Bowl. At the front end of the cabin it remains so. Airplanes have become as segregated by class as the old ocean liners—opulence for the rich and the crush of steerage for the rest of us.

But Amy Cohn contends that the disparity in airline ticket prices benefits everyone:

Suppose that an airline offers a 100-seat flight from Philadelphia to Chicago, and that it costs $40,000 to cover the costs of the airplane, fuel, pilots, flight attendants, landing fees, insurance, and so on. The airline needs to make at least $40,000 in ticket revenues for the flight to be worth flying. If the airline were to offer just one fare for all tickets on that flight, what should that fare be? Selling every seat for $425, for a total of $42,500, would make the flight nominally profitable.

But there may not be 100 people willing to pay $425 for this flight. Maybe there are 100 cash-poor college students who want to fly, but can only afford $300 per ticket. On the other hand, there may be 20 business travelers who want to fly, each willing to pay up to $900. … This is where “fare differentiation” comes in. If they can sell $300 seats to 80 college students and $900 seats to 20 business travelers, then they can sell all 100 seats, earning $42,000 and making the flight worth offering.

How all passengers wins:

While it is definitely to the benefit of college students to have business travelers “subsidize” their fares, the business travelers may be getting the bigger benefit—and not just because there are usually a few tickets still available at the last minute (at the highest fare). This fee structure allows airlines to increase the number of flights offered, giving the business traveler more options to choose from.

(Photo: Security lines at Denver International Airport on November 26, 2014. By RJ Sangosti/The Denver Post via Getty Images)