Third World America - Arianna Huffington [16]
So we look at the suffering all around us, at the shuttered factories and stores, and worry that it is just the tip of the iceberg—or the tip of the tip of the iceberg. We try to fight off the fear that if things don’t change—and in a big way—we may find ourselves working at Walmart or McDonald’s or Dunkin’ Donuts for minimum wage.
We are fast becoming a nation collectively waiting for the next shoe to drop.
Washington is filled with talk about national security: troop levels, airport screenings, Pentagon budgets, and terrorist threats. But there is another kind of national security: the one that keeps us feeling confident that the economic rug isn’t going to suddenly be pulled out from under us, and that our way of life isn’t going to suddenly implode—the kind of national security that gives us hope for the future. For that national security, especially when it comes to America’s middle class, the threat level has definitely moved from yellow (“elevated”) to orange (“high”)—and we are afraid that red (“severe”) is looming up ahead.
For more and more of its citizens, America has become a national insecurity state.
THE BROKEN BACKBONE OF AMERICA
In 1835, Alexis de Tocqueville published Democracy in America, his observations on the nature of our country. The opening line speaks volumes: “Amongst the novel objects that attracted my attention during my stay in the United States, nothing struck me more forcibly than the general equality of condition among the people.”2
Looking across the vast expanse of this developing country, the thing that most drew his attention was a vision of America as a level playing field, a place where the same rules applied to everyone. “Democratic laws,” he noted, “generally tend to promote the welfare of the greatest possible number; for they emanate from the majority of the citizens, who are subject to error, but who cannot have an interest opposed to their own advantage.”3
America’s enlightened elites have always understood that their long-term well-being and security depended on the middle and lower classes having an equal stake in the nation’s prosperity and political institutions. They knew that this great democratic experiment would be defined not by breeding or religion or language, but by a unifying idea—“All men are created equal”—and by an ideal: the good of the many outweighs the good of the few. E pluribus unum. Out of many, one. In the infancy of our nation, Tocqueville saw the power of this idea and its centrality to the American experiment.
He traveled across America before the industrial revolution transformed the country. Once it did, manufacturing jobs helped turn the working poor into middle-class Americans, liberating them from the shackles of a hand-to-mouth existence and moving them closer to enjoying a “general equality of condition.”
So, is America still a nation where its citizens enjoy a “general equality of condition”? Are we still promoting “the welfare of the greatest possible number”? It’s hard to imagine a modern Tocqueville taking in the grand sweep of our current political and economic landscape—with its shrinking middle class, disappearing jobs, growing economic disparity, banking oligarchy, and public policy sold to the highest bidder—and reaching the same conclusions.
Tocqueville’s words are deeply at odds with the reality of modern America. For decades our political leaders have systematically squeezed the nation’s middle class in order to promote the corporate interests paying for their reelection. America’s middle class has been the country’s economic backbone. It is our vast, energized middle class that has done the heavy lifting and inspired the most innovation. Where the middle class heads, the rest of the country follows. So when the middle class is systematically worn down—when too many of its members become downwardly mobile, unable to keep their jobs or their homes or buy as many goods and services and drive market innovations—can a diminished America,