The Real Crisis of the Middle Class and Threat to American Power
By
George Friedman
When I wrote about the crisis of
unemployment in Europe, I received a great deal of feedback. Europeans
agreed that this is the core problem while Americans argued that the United
States has the same problem, asserting
that U.S. unemployment is twice as high as the government's official
unemployment rate. My counterargument is that unemployment in the
United States is not a problem in the same sense that it is in
Europe because it does not pose a geopolitical threat. The United States
does not face political disintegration from unemployment, whatever the number
is. Europe might.
At the same time, I would agree that the United
States faces a potentially significant but longer-term geopolitical problem
deriving from economic trends. The
threat to the United States is the persistent decline in the middle class'
standard of living, a problem that is reshaping the social order that has been
in place since World War II and that, if it continues, poses a threat to
American power.
The Crisis of
the American Middle Class
The median household income of
Americans in 2011 was $49,103. Adjusted
for inflation, the median income is just below what it was in 1989 and is
$4,000 less than it was in 2000. Take-home income is a bit less than $40,000
when Social Security and state and federal taxes are included. That means a
monthly income, per household, of about $3,300. It is urgent to bear in mind that half of all American households earn
less than this. It is also vital to consider not the difference between
1990 and 2011, but the difference
between the 1950s and 1960s and the 21st century. This is where the difference
in the meaning of middle class becomes most apparent.
In the 1950s and 1960s, the median
income allowed you to live with a single earner -- normally the husband,
with the wife typically working as homemaker -- and roughly three children. It permitted the purchase of modest tract housing,
one late model car and an older one. It allowed a driving vacation somewhere
and, with care, some savings as well. I know this because my family was
lower-middle class, and this is how we lived, and I know many others in my
generation who had the same background. It was not an easy life and many
luxuries were denied us, but it wasn't a bad life at all.
Someone earning the median
income today might just pull this off, but it wouldn't be easy. Assuming that he did not have college loans to pay
off but did have two car loans to pay totaling $700 a month, and that he could
buy food, clothing and cover his utilities for $1,200 a month, he would have
$1,400 a month for mortgage, real estate taxes and insurance, plus some funds
for fixing the air conditioner and dishwasher. At a 5 percent mortgage rate,
that would allow him to buy a house in the $200,000 range. He would get a
refund back on his taxes from deductions but that would go to pay credit card
bills he had from Christmas presents and emergencies. It could be
done, but not easily and with great difficulty in major metropolitan areas. And if his employer didn't cover health
insurance, that $4,000-5,000 for three or four people would severely limit his
expenses. And of course, he would have to have $20,000-40,000 for a
down payment and closing costs on his home. There would be little else left
over for a week at the seashore with the kids.
And this is for the median. Those
below him -- half of all households -- would be shut out of what is considered
middle-class life, with the house, the car and the other associated amenities. Those amenities shift upward on the scale for
people with at least $70,000 in income. The basics might be available at the
median level, given favorable individual circumstance, but below that life becomes surprisingly meager, even in the range of
the middle class and certainly what used to be called the lower-middle class.
The Expectation
of Upward Mobility
I should pause and mention that this
was one of the fundamental causes of the 2007-2008 subprime lending crisis. People below
the median took out loans with deferred interest with the expectation that
their incomes would continue the rise that was traditional since World War II.
The caricature of the borrower as
irresponsible misses the point. The
expectation of rising real incomes was built into the American culture, and
many assumed based on that that the rise would resume in five years. When it
didn't they were trapped, but given history, they were not making an
irresponsible assumption.
American
history was always filled with the assumption that upward mobility was possible.
The Midwest and West opened land that could be
exploited, and the massive industrialization in the late 19th and early 20th
centuries opened opportunities. There
was a systemic expectation of upward mobility built into American culture and
reality.
The Great Depression was a shock to the system, and it wasn't solved by the New Deal,
nor even by World War II alone. The
next drive for upward mobility came from post-war programs for veterans, of
whom there were more than 10 million. These programs were instrumental
in creating post-industrial America, by creating a class of suburban
professionals. There were three programs that were critical:
- The GI Bill, which allowed veterans to go to college after the war, becoming professionals frequently several notches above their parents.
- The part of the GI Bill that provided federally guaranteed mortgages to veterans, allowing low and no down payment mortgages and low interest rates to graduates of publicly funded universities.
- The federally funded Interstate Highway System, which made access to land close to but outside of cities easier, enabling both the dispersal of populations on inexpensive land (which made single-family houses possible) and, later, the dispersal of business to the suburbs.
There were undoubtedly many other things that
contributed to this, but these three not only reshaped America but also created
a new dimension to the upward mobility that was built into American life from
the beginning. Moreover, these programs were all directed toward veterans, to
whom it was acknowledged a debt was due, or were created for military reasons
(the Interstate Highway System was funded to enable the rapid movement of
troops from coast to coast, which during World War II was found to be
impossible). As a result, there was
consensus around the moral propriety of the programs.
The subprime fiasco was rooted in
the failure to understand that the foundations of middle class life were not
under temporary pressure but something more fundamental. Where a single earner could support a middle class
family in the generation after World War II, it now took at least two
earners. That meant that the rise of
the double-income family corresponded with the decline of the middle class.
The lower you go on the income scale, the
more likely you are to be a single mother. That shift away from social pressure
for two parent homes was certainly part of the problem.
Re-engineering
the Corporation
But there was, I think, the crisis
of the modern corporation.
Corporations provided long-term
employment to the middle class. It was not unusual to spend your entire life working for one.
Working for a corporation, you received yearly
pay increases, either as a union or non-union worker. The middle class had both job security and
rising income, along with retirement and other benefits. Over the
course of time, the culture of the corporation diverged from the realities, as
corporate productivity lagged behind costs and the corporations became more and
more dysfunctional and ultimately unsupportable. In addition, the corporations ceased focusing on doing one thing well
and instead became conglomerates, with a management frequently unable to keep
up with the complexity of multiple lines of business.
For these and many other reasons, the corporation
became increasingly inefficient, and in the terms of the 1980s, they had to be
re-engineered -- which meant taken apart, pared down, refined and
refocused. And the re-engineering
of the corporation, designed to make them agile, meant that there was a
permanent revolution in business. Everything was being reinvented. Huge
amounts of money, managed by people whose specialty was re-engineering
companies, were deployed. The choice was between total failure and radical change.
From the point of view of the
individual worker, this frequently meant the same thing: unemployment.
From the view of the economy, it meant
the creation of value whether through breaking up companies, closing some of
them or sending jobs overseas. It was designed to increase the total
efficiency, and it worked for the most part.
This is where the disjuncture occurred. From the
point of view of the investor, they had saved the corporation from total meltdown
by redesigning it. From the point of
view of the workers, some retained the jobs that they would have lost, while
others lost the jobs they would have lost anyway. But the important
thing is not the subjective bitterness
of those who lost their jobs, but something more complex.
As the permanent corporate jobs
declined, more people were starting over. Some of them were starting over every
few years as the agile corporation grew more efficient and needed fewer
employees. That
meant that if they got new jobs it would not be
at the munificent corporate pay rate but at near entry-level rates in the small
companies that were now the growth engine. As these companies
failed, were bought or shifted direction, they would lose their jobs and start
over again. Wages didn't rise for them
and for long periods they might be unemployed, never to get a job again in
their now obsolete fields, and certainly not working at a company for the next
20 years.
The restructuring of inefficient companies did create substantial value, but that value
did not flow to the now laid-off workers. Some might flow to the
remaining workers, but much of it went to the engineers who restructured the
companies and the investors they represented. Statistics reveal that, since 1947 (when the data was first compiled),
corporate profits as a percentage of gross domestic product are now at their
highest level, while wages as a percentage of GDP are now at their lowest
level. It was not a question of making the economy more efficient -- it
did do that -- it was a question of
where the value accumulated. The upper segment of the wage curve and
the investors continued to make money. The middle class divided into a
segment that entered the upper-middle class, while another faction sank into
the lower-middle class.
American society on
the whole was never egalitarian. It always accepted that there would be
substantial differences in wages and wealth. Indeed, progress was in some ways
driven by a desire to emulate the wealthy. There was also the expectation that
while others received far more, the entire wealth structure would rise in
tandem. It was also understood that, because of skill or luck, others would
lose.
What we are facing now is a
structural shift, in which
the middle class' center, not because of laziness or stupidity, is shifting
downward in terms of standard of living. It
is a structural shift that is rooted in social change (the breakdown of the
conventional family) and economic change (the decline of traditional
corporations and the creation of corporate agility that places individual
workers at a massive disadvantage).
The inherent crisis rests in an increasingly efficient economy
and a population that can't consume what is produced because it can't afford
the products. This has
happened numerous times in history, but the United States, excepting the Great
Depression, was the counterexample.
Obviously, this is a massive
political debate, save
that political debates identify problems without clarifying them. In political debates, someone must be
blamed. In reality, these processes are
beyond even the government's ability to control. On one hand, the traditional corporation was beneficial
to the workers until it collapsed under the burden of its costs. On the
other hand, the efficiencies created threaten
to undermine consumption by weakening the effective demand among half of
society.
The Long-Term
Threat
The greatest danger is one that will not be faced
for decades but that is lurking out there. The United States was built on the assumption that a rising tide lifts
all ships. That has not been
the case for the past generation, and there is no indication that this
socio-economic reality will change any time soon. That means that a core
assumption is at risk. The problem is that social stability has been built
around this assumption -- not on the assumption
that everyone is owed a living, but the assumption that on the whole,
all benefit from growing productivity and efficiency.
If we move to a system where
half of the country is either stagnant or losing ground while the other half is
surging, the social fabric of the United States is at risk, and with it the
massive global power the United States has accumulated. Other superpowers such as Britain or Rome
did not have the idea of a perpetually improving condition of the middle class
as a core value. The United States
does. If it loses that, it loses one of the pillars of its geopolitical power.
The left would argue that the solution is for laws to transfer wealth from the rich to the middle class.
That would increase consumption but,
depending on the scope, would threaten the amount of capital available to
investment by the transfer itself and by eliminating incentives to invest.
You can't invest what you don't have,
and you won't accept the risk of investment
if the payoff is transferred away from you.
The agility of
the American corporation is critical.
The right will argue
that allowing the free market to function will fix the problem. The free market doesn't guarantee social outcomes, merely
economic ones. In other words, it may give more efficiency on the whole
and grow the economy as a whole, but
by itself it doesn't guarantee how wealth is distributed. The left
cannot be indifferent to the historical consequences of extreme redistribution
of wealth. The right cannot be
indifferent to the political consequences of a middle-class life undermined,
nor can it be indifferent to half the population's inability to buy the
products and services that businesses sell.
The most significant actions made by
governments tend to be unintentional. The GI Bill was designed to limit unemployment among returning
serviceman; it inadvertently created a professional class of college graduates.
The VA loan was designed to stimulate the construction industry; it created the
basis for suburban home ownership. The Interstate Highway System was meant to
move troops rapidly in the event of war; it created a new pattern of land use
that was suburbia.
It is unclear how the private sector can deal with
the problem of pressure on the middle class. Government programs frequently
fail to fulfill even minimal intentions while squandering scarce resources. The
United States has been a fortunate country, with solutions frequently emerging
in unexpected ways.
It would seem to me that unless the
United States gets lucky again, its global dominance is in jeopardy. Considering its history, the United States can
expect to get lucky again, but it usually gets lucky when it is frightened. And at this point it isn't frightened but angry,
believing that if only its own solutions were employed, this problem and all
others would go away. I am
arguing that the conventional solutions offered by all sides do not yet grasp
the magnitude of the problem -- that the foundation of American society is at
risk -- and therefore all sides are content to repeat what has been said
before.
People who are smarter and luckier
than I am will have to craft the solution. I am simply pointing out the
potential consequences of the problem and the inadequacy of all the ideas I
have seen so far.