Affordability in a Fading Gilded Age?
Demos Kratia 13:
All of a sudden affordability is on every politician’s lips. Somewhat regretfully in many cases. Yet it is not a new issue — it has been brewing for ages. Now it has burst on the scene, and only people branded as “extreme” seem willing to engage with it.
That’s one narrative for our moment.
Another is transition. From what to what? From the defunct neoliberal era that fizzled spectacularly in the bonfires of the Great Recession to the uncertainties of a world lived within the confines of artificial intelligence? Was it vanities as Wolfe suggested in his defining description of that time? Is it a rejection of the accumulation of luxuries in too few hands — a sort of modernized version of the original Savonarola uprising? Or is it something different but more fundamental: an immolation of ideas no longer relevant? If the latter, where do we go now for our ideas? Deeper into our machines? Certainly not to our leadership that seems now more a library of the past than creator of the future.
Look at it this way:
“We were just then in an age of transition. The opinions prevailing in the country were extremely heterogeneous, and often diametrically opposed to each other. We had survivors of former generations who were still full of theocratic ideas, and who believed that any attempt to restrict an imperial prerogative amounted to something like high treason. On the other hand there was a large and powerful body of the younger generation educated at the time when Manchester theory was in vogue, and who in consequence were ultra-radical in their ideas of freedom. Members of the bureaucracy were prone to lend willing ears to the German doctrinaires of the reactionary period, while, on the other hand, the educated politicians among the people having not yet tasted the bitter significance of administrative responsibility, were liable to be more influenced by the dazzling words and lucid theories of Montesquieu, Rousseau, and similar French writers.”
That was Ito Hirobumi writing in the late 1800s. Back then there was a clash between traditional ways of doing things and the more modern; between the free-wheeling of laissez-faire and the statism of German bureaucracy; and between the pragmatism of commercialism and the high intellectualism of theory. No wonder their transition was difficult to see through. Sound familiar?
At least then the future appeared more optimistic than the past. And they had real choices. They had opportunities, which we seem to have exhausted. So, the great spurt in growth — McCloskey’s so-called “Great Enrichment” — that began in the late 1800s, and which has run steadily at around a 2% improvement each year since, is sputtering. Or appears to be.
Now is very different from then: we are awash in unabashed prosperity. But is no longer shared equably. The crumbs falling off the high table are too meager. Thus our crisis is one of confidence in very engine we rely upon to deliver that prosperity, security, and a better future. Our institutions no longer provide the goods. We are adrift. Our leadership has failed us.
W.B. Yeats was correct when he said that the center cannot hold. Our problem, though, is that what we call the center caused the crisis. It needs re-creating. And, I suspect the new center will occupy a somewhat different space from the one we are rejecting.
The problem is simple: our leadership is ill-equipped to deal with the problems we face. It cannot comprehend them adequately enough to realize the depth of the struggle ahead, so it continues to see things through an irrelevant lens. Its commitment to old ideas is hampering its ability to lead. Perhaps it is time for new ideas. That generally implies new people. It definitely implies new ideas and not poor re-treads of the old.
Our elite is accountable for what we see around us. It is time to make it responsible.
Yes, we need new leadership.
I have been talking about this for ages.
Of course, I am not alone. Far from it. Christopher Lasch said this in 1995 [posthumously as it turns out]:
“Most of my recent work comes back in one way or another to the question of whether democracy has a future”
He goes on:
“The decline of manufacturing and the consequent loss of jobs; the shrinkage of the middle class; the flourishing traffic in drugs; the decay of cities — the and news goes on and on. No one has a plausible solution to these intractable problems, and most of what passes for political discussion does’t even address them”.
His book is called “The Revolt of the Elites — and the Betrayal of Democracy”. So three decades ago, before the dot-com bubble, before the Iraq invasion, before the Great Recession, before the anemic post-recession recovery, and before the pandemic, there was commentary suggesting that democracy was at risk, and that the nation’s elite — our leadership — was either missing in action or was so culpable for the mess that it was unable to correct the nation’s ills.
I agree with Lasch: it was the latter. Our elite made the mess in a frenzy of self-dealing that makes sickening reading in retrospect and which will take a while of strong and novel policy to undo.
Since Lasch wrote we all know what happened: a slow motion crisis gathered speed, produced the uprising led by Trump, and has now produced what we call an affordability crisis.
This is not new. It is decades old. We all saw it coming and accumulating. But our leadership denied its existence and kept resorting to the old ideas with ever greater desperation. At no point did those ideas stem the tide.
Worse: there will now be a whole host of converts to the affordability issue who have no real empathy to what they mean. But we can look forward to lots of earnest discussions about the “working poor” and what policies are feasible under our current constraints. Where, of course, “constraints” means the least possible intrusion into elite wealth accumulation. The entire conversation is already sounding, to me at least, a bit like the late 1800s: we have a new “social question”. What are we to do about this affordability problem? Where did all these poor people come from? Whatever happened to “self help”?
Short form of the argument: our elite is so totally self-absorbed and self-involved — how many AirBnB properties do you own? — that it has no understanding of the life experience of the majority of people. It took decades to create this new Gilded Age, it will take a while to deconstruct it. Given the state of the stock market [note to you rich folk: only elitists have “portfolios”] the end might be closer than our leadership wants to admit. They are all busy cashing in on the run-up in tech stocks. They don’t have time to concern themselves with food prices. Or rents. Or child care. Or petty things like wages. Despite what they might say.
Yes, I know, I am a little dyspeptic this morning.
The government shutdown has exposed just how skewed our society has become. One in eight Americans relies on government aid in one form or another simply to eat and put a roof over their heads. Quite often that aid is insufficient. Many of our biggest employers [Walmart? Amazon?] game the system and pay inadequate wages in the knowledge that taxpayers will top them up in an attempt to push them over the poverty line. This is very far from the industrial era when manufacturing wages provided a step up and out of the lower levels of society. Aspiration of a middle class life was real back then. Not now. Our big employers have no commitment to the middle class other than it being a source of profit.
Did we create a mass middle class in order to share the wealth, or to provide a fertile market to profit from? Was it both? If so, the suffocation of the middle will surely deprive the elite from its main source of income. So why do it? Is it simply the short-term attitude of “the market”? Not that “the market” cares— it is global, not national, so it cannot even see our middle class.
What kind of morality is that?
Shareholder morality.
Asset holder morality.
Elitist morality.
In other words, no morality at all.
After decades of neoliberal political hegemony we have, at last, arrived at the denouement of its intention. We have created such a radical divide in lifestyles that it is no longer relevant to speak of the “American economy”. There are two, not one. The elite lives in one. The rest of our people live in the other. The one feeds relentlessly off the other. And the divide that separates them is increasingly insurmountable.
We have destroyed democracy in any decent definition of that concept and replaced it with a hollowed out shell of its former self. In a true democracy leadership cares about its responsibility to its fellow citizenry. Our current leadership has no such care. It is free of accountability because of the neoliberal mantra of “individuality”. Our people are all supposedly responsible for themselves. So why should the elite worry? Freed of moral responsibility of course it doesn’t. Self-help provides a veil over the destruction of citizenship, and without citizenship there is no “entitlement” and no responsibility for the elite to share or care.
The purpose of democratic government is to provide, not simply participation, but results from that participation. One of the key results being the provision of insurance against the occasional downsides of life. No one, in a real democracy, is left behind. No one is abandoned to precarious survival. No one.
Yet that is precisely what America has done. It is what it does.
This shutdown has exposed how callous our elite is, and how cruel it can be to our people.
Why?
Because our elite lives in a separate world where it engages in intra-elite squabbles over cultural identity and which faction can establish its own form of dominion over what is considered “important” for policy-making.
Since our elite is unified in its desire to extract wealth from those below, any jockeying for status within its ranks has to come from different battles: hence the so-called culture wars, which are nothing more than an internecine struggle to define defensible positions over various novel, and often narrow, social rights and responsibilities. All the while ignoring broad based economic issues like affordability — an issue that impinges on the wealth the elite can retain for itself.
Perhaps our elite contains too many educated people. That over-supply has produced a desperate struggle for status and power within the elite and an ever growing need to demonstrate cleverness by pursuing ever more siloed and detailed thinking. As a result our educated class has made itself irrelevant to the big issues. It cannot cope. It has been swallowed by its own need to justify itself and the rent it extracts. Possession of the arcane has displaced understanding of the general as the key to intellectual success.
And now here comes AI with its compendium of all that information. It is a gale of destruction within the educated class. The storm is just beginning. The elite is in crisis. How ironic: the elite built its wealth by automating the masses and elimination the social escalator up. The professional class, so aptly described ages ago by Burnham, was the willing partner of our capitalists as the latter drove machinery ever deeper in to our lives. And now it is caught itself in the same process. When we automate cleverness we have precious little left for the future. Our professional class is being cast adrift by its sponsor. It has serve its purpose. Now what?
Meanwhile in the real world affordability is now the focus.
Consumer sentiment is at a low ebb.
Trust in elite run institutions is at a low ebb.
Consumption is increasingly concentrated in an ever fewer hands.
Living standards are under threat.
The great American dream is over.
The post-mortem on the Reagan/Clinton consensus reveals that it has failed miserably for most Americans. The post-Great Recession recovery, guided by old neoliberal hands, was also a failure. It left too many behind. The pandemic added to the disillusionment: our elite escaped to the country, while our “essential workers” were abandoned to the rotting infrastructure and high costs of our cities.
And now the people appear to be justifiably restless. They are even voting for politicians that don’t conform to the so-called “centrist” path. Which is to say they owe no allegiance to elitist ideas.
But enough! I know I am ranting.
So a concluding word:
To all those of you discovering the affordability crisis as a new phenomenon, please recall that the elite-approved path to wealth generation has, we are told, always been paved by productivity gains. But the growth in productivity and the growth in wages diverged decades ago. An increasing share of that productivity was syphoned off and attributed to capital and asset ownership. Which meant that asset prices rose with respect to incomes. Stated otherwise: income from work was penalized in favor of income from asset ownership. The incentive to work was cut — and you all worried why labor-force participation rates stagnated! The rewards to work were cut. The age-old gap between those who own and those who work opened up once more, taking democracy down with it. The disparities that resulted now threaten the entire edifice.
Two economies: one wallowing in a self-indulgent second Gilded Age; the other living in an affordability crisis. That is not democratic by any decent measure. It is also unsustainable if democracy is to be restored.
There is a reckoning ahead: either we abandon any semblance of democracy and admit we prefer authoritarian rule to keep the masses quiet; or the Gilded Age has to end.
Either path is difficult. A transition, though, is under way whether we like it or not because the people are restless.
To hold onto its Gilded Age our leadership has to clamp down on democracy. It has to ignore the people. It’s a stark choice. Degrade privilege? Or muzzle the people?
I know which I prefer.
How about you?
/Demos Kratia