[Washington, D.C., June 2. Image via Getty]

WASHINGTON - JUNE 02: U.S. Supreme Court nominee and Federal Appeals Court judge Sonia Sotomayor (R) meets with Senate Democratic Leader Sen. Harry Reid (D-NV) (L) on Capitol Hill June 2, 2009 in Washington, DC. Sotomayor made her rounds on the Hill to visit senators who will vote for her confirmation process. (Photo by Alex Wong/Getty Images)

Not to take anything away from any attorney generals and secretaries of state past and present, but Frances Perkins, the first woman appointed to a Cabinet position, remains one of the most influential female pols in U.S. history. Because she was of a generation that oftentimes felt they did more by keeping a low profile - and because hers is a controversial political legacy - her accomplishments have gone largely unheralded, an omission Kirstin Downey's new biography, The Woman Behind the New Deal: The Life of Frances Perkins, FDR's Secretary of Labor and His Moral Conscience, seeks to address.

To quote Christine Stansell's review in the Daily Beast, what Perkins "aimed for when she took over Labor in 1932 was: unemployment insurance, protection against indigence in old age, work relief for the jobless, the abolition of child labor, the 40-hour week and the minimum wage. In the next few years, those would translate into: Social Security, the Civilian Conservation Corps, and the Fair Labor Standards Act." Perkins was the scion of a prominent Boston family, educated at Mount Holyoke and brought up with a strong social conscience. As a young woman she immersed herself in charity work and later took on a position with the New York consumer's league, a job she held onto - along with her maiden name - after her marriage. Roosevelt first hired her when he was governor as head of the state industrial commission, later bringing her to Washington as his Labor secretary.

While Roosevelt may have been unusually open to female colleagues, not everyone in Washington was:

Downey uncovered in her research sneering notes that colleagues scribbled to each other during Cabinet meetings about how annoying her voice was. One of their highest compliments was that she didn't talk too much; but of course if she talked too little, she risked turning into a nonentity...Normally talkative and articulate, Perkins put on a churchlady-like demeanor "I wanted to give the impression of being a quiet, orderly woman," she explained without a trace of irony. The reality was, they were men, she was a woman, and so she doubled down. "I just proceeded on the theory that this was a gentleman's conversation on the porch of a golf club. You didn't butt in with bright ideas."

The fact that Perkins was involved in what appears to have been generally accepted as a lesbian relationship could not have made her acceptance much easier. As the biography makes clear, Perkins preferred to fly under the radar, the better to get things done. Says the article,

Like many women in public life, she aimed for an unremarkable life and remarkable achievements. Hers was a generation who spoke softly and wore little hats. They kept their voices low, avoided displays of strong emotion, worked like the devil, and when insulted (which was often) stiffened, prayed, and ploughed on. They did not remotely achieve equality with men, but they won grudging respect and, for their assiduity, they sometimes won power.

Considered in this light, it is perhaps not shocking that Perkins' achievements should not have been matched for decades: she existed at a unique juncture - the fabled "no ordinary time" - when women like her could slip between the cracks without threatening the status quo. Ironically, by being self-effacing, Perkins managed just that, but one wonders if the very scope of her achievements may have frightened future generations of both sexes as much as they inspired. That, as Stansell puts it, "as the most powerful woman in Washington, she was also the most isolated and exposed" is a chilling lesson even today.

The Heroine Of The New Deal [Daily Beast]

Kate Hilpern of The Guardian takes a fascinating look at the strange "disappearance" of 18-year-old Tom, a young man who found kindred spirits through an online community called "Freedomain Radio, which invites discussion around philosophy, politics and personal freedom." Tom would spend hours on the website, along with his girlfriend, engaging in conversations with other members and becoming a true believer in the group's philosophy that everyone has the right to choose their families, and that "ultimate personal freedom can be gained by cutting yourself off from any involuntary relationships (ie your family) and entering into completely voluntary ones (ie your new mates online)."

Tom's mother, Barbara, suspects that the community is actually a cult designed to lure unhappy young people away from their families by playing up the idea that their parents are responsible for all of their problems. "We did our best to be a happy family," she says, "Knowing what I do now about the website, I think Tom was being convinced by the online community that he had been cheated because he didn't have a perfect family upbringing. But who does? We really did try our best."

The community offers tips on how to escape your "Family of Origin" (FOO) by going through the "deFOO" process. The form letter that Tom left for his parents was written by the site's founder in order to buy the community member "six to 12 months before your family come looking for you and that will give you time to get used to living without them."

The founder, Stefan Molyneux, denies accusations that his group is a cult, claiming that his only objective is to encourage people to disengage from unhealthy "involuntary" relationships. "It's the furthest thing from a cult," Molyneux says, "First of all, I don't charge anything for what it is I do. And cults isolate people. What I'm talking about, what I strongly suggest to people, is that they should get closer to the people they're with, and of course cults don't suggest people go to therapy to deal with their issues."

Hold up, Stefan. "Cults isolate people." So wouldn't encouraging people to cut off their families using a form letter that you wrote set off some isolation alarm bells? Molyneux appears to be taking out his own issues on others, claiming that "deep down" he doesn't believe there are "any really good parents out there" and using his community members' concerns and fears as a means to twist them against their own families. Hilpern reports listening to an FDR radio program wherein Tom discusses his views on animal rights and Molyneux attempts to convince Tom that "he is the one being treated like an animal and abused by his father, and by Barbara because she is his mother and she didn't leave his father - and for even having Tom at all."

Tom's family has accepted the fact that they will most likely never hear from Tom again. So what can be done about situations such as this? Is the FDR really a cult? Or does an 18-year-old man have the right to disassociate himself from his family and friends, if he feels it will bring him greater happiness? I suspect that both are true, though one wonders what Molyneux's real motivations are, in terms of building this community of isolated individuals. The internet is a strange thing; as we've seen on our own site, it has the ability to bring people together, to build real-life friendships and communities, yet as social networking increasingly becomes the preferred mode of communication in society, it's hard to tell where the boundaries have to be placed. We all show up on this site everyday behind a small picture and a stupid screen name, putting out silly comments and laughing as our online "friends" do the same. Yet most of us can turn the computer off and walk away, able to balance our real lives with our screen lives.

Tom, it seems, was more comfortable as the online version of himself than the real version of himself; blending the two together, for him, was impossible, and that is a sign that something has gone terribly wrong.

'You'll Never See Me Again' [The Guardian]