the costs of immigration

Greg Mankiw links to a George Borjas paper on immigration that identifies a serious side effect of immigration to America (illegal or legal):

Using data drawn from the 1960-2000 U.S. Censuses, we find a strong correlation between immigration, black wages, black employment rates, and black incarceration rates. As immigrants disproportionately increased the supply of workers in a particular skill group, the wage of black workers in that group fell, the employment rate declined, and the incarceration rate rose. Our analysis suggests that a 10-percent immigrant-induced increase in the supply of a particular skill group reduced the black wage by 3.6 percent, lowered the employment rate of black men by 2.4 percentage points, and increased the incarceration rate of blacks by almost a full percentage point.

I don't like supporting a policy that I know will directly harm a segment of American society that is already struggling. On the other hand, I believe that the costs of immigration are outweighed by the economic benefits that accrue both to society as a whole and to the immigrants themselves. The proper policy solution isn't to limit immigration, but to capture part of the economic windfall through taxation and use that revenue to provide support and opportunities for those that bear the brunt of the costs.

it's like that

If sports are a metaphor for life, what is art that describes sport? A beautiful metaphor for life? A meta-metaphor? I don't know how to answer that question. I *do* know that I like this song:

Well, beat the drum and hold the phone - the sun came out today!
We’re born again, there’s new grass on the field.
A-roundin’ third, and headed for home, it’s a brown-eyed handsome man;
Anyone can understand the way I feel.

Oh, put me in, coach - I’m ready to play today;
Put me in, coach - I’m ready to play today;
Look at me, I can be centerfield.

Well, I spent some time in the mudville nine, watchin’ it from the bench;
You know I took some lumps when the mighty casey struck out.
So say hey willie, tell ty cobb and joe dimaggio;
Don’t say "it ain’t so", you know the time is now.

Oh, put me in, coach - I’m ready to play today;
Put me in, coach - I’m ready to play today;
Look at me, I can be centerfield.

Yeah! I got it, I got it!

Got a beat-up glove, a homemade bat, and brand-new pair of shoes;
You know I think it’s time to give this game a ride.
Just to hit the ball and touch ’em all - a moment in the sun;
(pop) it’s gone and you can tell that one goodbye!

Oh, put me in, coach - I’m ready to play today;
Put me in, coach - I’m ready to play today;
Look at me, I can be centerfield.

Oh, put me in, coach - I’m ready to play today;
Put me in, coach - I’m ready to play today;
Look at me, I can be centerfield.

Yeah!

--Centerfield, John Fogerty

The song makes me love baseball. Much like the book Summerland by Michael Chabon. I find it odd that I like art about baseball more than I actually like baseball.