[On Aug. 24], I was fortunate to take part in an event at the Syracuse Center of Excellence celebrating the completion of new labs to support research and development related to emerging energy technologies.

Thanks to an investment from New York State, in partnership with Syracuse University and SUNY College of Environmental Science and Forestry, the region now has the ability to test, scale, and commercialize fuel cells, combined heat and power systems, bio-based fuels, hydrodynamic flow fields, and battery and energy power storage.

Our region has a strong legacy in these technologies, and a growing level of new expertise to capitalize on emerging opportunities in the industry. These labs exemplify the important role academic and research partners play in the innovation and commercialization of industries. Through our region’s distinct ability to bring together assets such as legacy industry knowledge; private and public partners; and world-class academic institutions, it is well-positioned to compete and lead in the next economy.

I look forward to seeing the incredible technologies that are developed from this facility.

Robert M. (Rob) Simpson is president and CEO of CenterState CEO, the primary economic-development organization for Central New York. This editorial is drawn and edited from the “CEO Focus” email newsletter that the organization sent to members on Aug. 25.

Politicians spend a good bit of their time complaining about the media. But why should they have all the fun?

I’m going to join in, though I tend to get upset about different things than most sitting politicians do. You see, I don’t actually mind when journalists — whether in print, on television, or online — treat what politicians say with skepticism. That means they’re doing their jobs.

This doesn’t happen nearly as much these days as it should. A lot of journalists don’t just want to report the news, they want to be players and affect policy. As one observer said, the media is drawn to “superficiality, sensationalism, scandal, and sleaze.” They make building a consensus — the key task of the democratic process — much more difficult.

There are still really excellent journalists out there who are doing their best to serve both their profession and the country. Every day, they struggle to make sense of enormously complex events. What they understand — and what I wish more of their colleagues believed — is that democracy demands journalism that improves its workings. Properly done, journalism can help consensus emerge, improve the knowledge and judgment of voters, and sharpen the performance of public officials and government as a whole.

In the end, the democratic process is about bridging differences. This is virtually impossible without a solid base of information and analysis. Our democracy needs well-informed citizens making decisions based on facts about both policies and politicians.

This means that the model of the journalist that seems to be going out of fashion — reporters who were reasonably objective, independent of outside groups, and even independent of their company’s owners — is actually crucial to representative government. Curious, skeptical journalists who point out inconsistencies, draw attention to mistakes, call out misleading statements, and identify outright lies serve a larger purpose: they provide citizens what they need to know in order to be a good citizen, and public officials what they need in order to do their work well.

This is quite an ideal, especially in this age of economic turmoil within the media universe. But I don’t think it’s too much to hope that as the profession sorts out its future, it takes seriously its leadership role in advancing the public good, and doesn’t sacrifice its part in making representative democracy work properly.

Lee Hamilton is a senior advisor for the Indiana University (IU) Center on Representative Government, distinguished scholar at the IU School of Global and International Studies, and professor of practice at the IU School of Public and Environmental Affairs. Hamilton, a Democrat, was a member of the U.S. House of Representatives for 34 years, representing a district in south central Indiana. 

Maybe we can make some money from the spin phenomenon.

First, let’s define spin. It is the BS that spokespeople offer when they defend the indefensible. It is the crown jewel of PR, the lifeblood of politics. We see and hear a good deal of it these days.

Today, we have spinmeisters, hired guns. They are like trial lawyers who defend criminals. “My client killed his parents? Pity him. He’s a poor orphan.” Spinmeisters are paid to say anything — no matter how ridiculous. So long as it distracts, changes the subject, and swings the spotlight away from whatever mess their clients are in.

A perfect example: Voices recently rose to condemn the Clinton Foundation — from both sides of the political spectrum. It clearly is the world’s largest slush fund. It clearly peddles influence in return for fat contributions. “Shut it down!” foundation critics cry.

James Carville is a paid master spinmeister for the Clintons. His response? “Some children will die.” This is his attempt to swing that spotlight to a new topic. Poor children.

But it’s poor Carville. These days, he is charged with impossible missions — such as defending the slush fund and the emails.

Candidates from all over the world have hired him. From Afghanistan to Colombia to Argentina. Politicians everywhere will pay for spin.

Carville and many of today’s spinmeisters could write textbooks for Propaganda 101 courses in colleges. They belong in the Propaganda Hall of Fame.

Richard Nixon had henchmen who concocted lies for him during Watergate. Bill Clinton had the same to help him wriggle out of the slime of his sexual adventures. One of his spinmeisters tried to swing the spotlight onto a “vast right-wing conspiracy.”

And today, we have the likes of James Carville. (His wife Mary Matalin spins for the other side. Used to be for Republicans. Lately for Libertarians.)

Maybe we could hire these pros to help create a new app. A spin app for your smart phone. Hey, I am serious! We could make money with this.

We would load the app with the wisdom of spin from people like Carville and his wife. Cop pulls you over for doing 120 mph in a school zone. You quickly open the app and beg it for what to say to the trooper.

“Cramps in my leg. From an overdose of Viagra.”

Second choice: “Kids were just getting out of school. I was speeding to get past the school to make it safer for them.”

Hey, you should put some money into this idea. Send the check to my charitable foundation. You and I will make millions with it. Millions. Would I lie to you?

From Tom…as in Morgan.

Tom Morgan writes about political, financial and other subjects from his home near Oneonta. Several upstate radio stations carry his daily commentary, Tom Morgan’s Money Talk. Contact him at tomasinmorgan@yahoo.com