theatlantic | When conservatives acknowledge these
trends, they often chalk them up to Obama's policies, which have
supposedly drained Americans of their rugged individualism and
habituated them to government handouts. "Once the public is hooked on
government health care," Lowry and Ponnuru note,
"its political attitudes shift leftward." But Obama is less the driver
of this shift in economic attitudes than the beneficiary. It's certainly
true that Obama won the votes of Americans skeptical that they can rise
via the unfettered market. Among the majority of 2012 voters who
believe America's economic system favors the wealthy, Obama beat Romney by 45 points.
But Obama is not the reason so many Americans believe that. For more
than a century, commentators have chalked up Americans' support for
capitalism and lack of economic resentment to America's exceptional
upward mobility. It's unclear when exactly American upward mobility
began to decline. But it's not surprising that, eventually, that decline
would cause class attitudes to harden.
The question exceptionalists should be
asking is why America, once vaunted for its economic mobility, now
trails much of the advanced world. Single-parent families clearly play a
role, since poor children born into two-parent homes are far more
upwardly mobile than those who are not. Housing patterns that segregate
the poor from the middle class also seem to limit poor kids' chances
of getting ahead. But economic inequality is also a big part of the
story. Across the world, the University of Ottawa's Miles Corak has demonstrated, countries with higher inequality suffer lower mobility. The same is true inside the United States: The flatter a city is economically, the more likely its poor will rise.
Part of the reason is "opportunity hoarding."
In recent decades, the wealth gap between the richest Americans and
everyone else has dramatically widened. Rich Americans have used this
influx of cash to give their children special advantages that keep them
from losing their spots atop the income ladder to children born with
lesser means. Think about test preparation, which became a national industry
only in the 1970s. Or the way wealthy parents subsidize unpaid
internships or buy expensive houses to gain access to the best public
schools. In the early 1970s, rich families spent four times as much on
their children's education as poor ones. Today, they spend almost seven times as much.
Culture plays a large role in this. If the rich didn't value education,
they wouldn't spend their cash on it. But until recently, they didn't
have so much cash to spend. As a paper by
Stanford sociologists Pablo Mitnik, Erin Cumberworth, and David Grusky
notes, "Inequality provides privileged families with more resources that
can then be lavished on their children, resources that raise their
chances of securing desirable class positions for themselves." Whether
this lavishing has contributed to an absolute decline in upward mobility
in the United States in recent decades, it has certainly contributed to
America's decline relative to other advanced countries.
All of which raises another question that
conservative exceptionalists should be asking: What's behind
skyrocketing inequality? Why do the top 1 percent of Americans, who took
in roughly 11 percent of national income in the mid-1970s, account for more
than double that today? Globalization and technology are clearly part
of the story. If you're an American who works with your hands, you're
competing with low-paid workers across the globe, not to mention
machines, to an extent scarcely imaginable a few decades ago. That
competition pushes down wages for Americans without a college degree,
and widens the gap between rich and poor.
What globalization and technology can't
explain is why inequality is so much higher in America than in Europe,
where the same tectonic forces are at play. Indeed, if you eliminate
government policies on taxing and spending, America is about as unequal
as Sweden, Norway, and Denmark and a bit more equal than Finland, Germany, and Britain. America claims its place as the most unequal major Western country only when you add in government policy.
Which is to say that while globalization and technology may be
increasing inequality everywhere, they are increasing it more in the
United States because, compared with Europe, the United States
redistributes less money from rich to poor.
Which brings us back to conservatives,
because it is their champions—Ronald Reagan in the 1980s, Newt Gingrich
in the 1990s, George W. Bush in the 2000s—who pushed many of the
policies that have boosted inequality. In the mid-1970s, the federal
government's top tax rate for regular income was 70 percent and its top
rate for long-term capital gains was almost 40 percent. When Bush left office,
the rate on regular income had fallen to 35 percent and the rate on
long-term capital gains was down to 15 percent. (That has crept up under
Obama to almost 40 percent on regular income and 20 percent on capital
gains for individuals making over $400,000.) These huge shifts in tax
policy have been partially offset by antipoverty spending, which has
grown significantly since the 1970s, largely because skyrocketing health
care costs have made Medicaid far more expensive.
But even if you take that increase into account, America is still doing
far less to combat inequality than other advanced democracies.
If you believe, as academics increasingly
do, that economic inequality goes hand in hand with calcified class
relations, then decades of conservative policy have contributed to
America's relative lack of economic mobility.
This, in turn, has soured young Americans on the belief
that through the free market they can rise above the circumstances of
their birth. Which means that, when it comes to declining faith in the
American Dream of upward mobility, as with declining faith in organized
religion and declining faith in America's special mission in the world,
conservatives have helped foment the very backlash against American
exceptionalism that they decry.
