Posts Tagged ‘class’


Posted: 22 March 2017 in Uncategorized
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Part 1 of the Real-World Economics Review on the causes and consequences of Trumponomics is now available.

Here is the direct link to my own contribution, “Class and Trumponomics” (pdf).

Part 2, with additional essays on Trumponomics, will be available next week.

And both issues will combined for a book that will be published in late April.


It is likely, if some version of Trump/Ryancare is approved in the United States, millions more people will not be able to purchase the insurance necessary to receive adequate healthcare.

The problem is, the United States is already an outlier when it comes to the relationship between health expenditures and health outcomes—measured in this case by life expectancy.

As Esteban Ortiz-Ospina and Max Roser explain,

all countries in this graph have followed an upward trajectory (life expectancy increased as health expenditure increased), but the U.S. stands out as an exception following a much flatter trajectory; gains in life expectancy from additional health spending in the U.S. were much smaller than in the other high-income countries, particularly since the mid-1980s.


Even more worrisome, higher incomes in the United States are associated with greater longevity, and differences in life expectancy across income groups have increased over time.

As Raj Chetty et al. (pdf) discovered,

Higher income was associated with longer life throughout the income distribution. Men in the bottom 1% of the income distribution at the age of 40 years had an expected age of death of 72.7 years. Men in the top 1% of the income distribution had an expected age of death of 87.3 years, which is 14.6 years (95% CI, 14.4- 14.8 years) longer than those in the bottom 1%. Women in the bottom 1% of the income distribution at the age of 40 years had an expected age of death of 78.8 years. Women in the top 1% had an expected age of death of 88.9 years, which is 10.1 years (95% CI, 9.9-10.3 years) longer than those in the bottom 1%.

As a result, the average life expectancy of the lowest income classes in America is now equal to that in Sudan or Pakistan.

And, with Trump/Ryancare, that class difference in life expectancy is only going to get worse.


We all know that the recovery since the Great Recession has been highly skewed. But has it hurt whites more than blacks and Hispanics, thereby explaining Donald Trump’s victory in the presidential election?

That’s the story being told by Eduardo Porter (here and here), relying on data from the Economic Cycle Research Institute (pdf). Their basic argument is that, of the millions of net new jobs created since the pre-recession highwater mark of November 2007, most of them went to black and Hispanic (and Asian) workers, not to white workers (who make up the majority of the workforce).

The numbers are correct—but their analysis is seriously incomplete.

According to the numbers that serve as the basis of ECRI analysis (and which are represented in the chart above), about 5.5 million more workers are employed now compared to nine years ago (the purple line)—including 4.9 million more Hispanic (green line) and 2.3 million more African American (blue line) workers but 722 thousand fewer white (red line) workers.*


It comes as no surprise that those different job trajectories are reflected in the different trajectories of the employment-population ratio. Whereas the overall ratio and the ratio for whites have barely changed (at 59 and 60 percent, respectively) since the recession ended, the other ratios have in fact changed—rising for both Hispanics (from 59.3 to 62.2) and blacks (from 52.9 to 56.6).

So, there are differences in job growth, a large part of which can be accounted for by different regional growth patterns (large cities vs. small towns and rural areas), sectoral shifts (services vs. industrial production), and demographic profiles (both the proportion of the working-age population and retirement rates).

However, in every other way, the different groups within the American working-class have moved in tandem.


For example, the labor-force-participation rate has declined over the past nine years—in general and for each subgroup, white, black, and Hispanic—and remains now just above record lows.


Unemployment rates have also moved in the same direction—first rising dramatically after the crash and then falling during the recovery (but still remaining above what they were before the crash).


Meanwhile, workers’ wages have barely budged—overall and for whites, blacks, and Hispanics—between the fourth quarter of 2007 and the third quarter of 2016.

The folks at the Center for Economic and Policy Research get it:

Porter is right in seeing support for Trump as being to a substantial extent a response to bad economic prospects. But the economic prospects of working class whites in the last decade were not notably worse than the prospects of working class blacks.

And, I would add, all the other groups that make up the American working-class.

The fact is, all members of the working-class—white, black, and Hispanic—have been victimized during the Second Great Depression. As I have shown elsewhere (e.g., here and here), as a class, they’ve fallen further and further behind the tiny group of employers and wealthy individuals at the top. That’s the real skewed nature of the economic recovery.

As I see it, the difference in their political allegiances and voting patterns cannot then be explained by white workers losing out to black and Hispanic workers. It’s due, instead, to the fact that one group that has been left behind (working-class whites) threw in their lot with one candidate (right-wing,  white-nationalist Trump)—while other members of the working-class (blacks and Hispanics), who have been equally left behind, simply could not.

And, soon, all of them will discover Trump’s promises were no more than dog-whistle politics and his economic program will leave them even further behind.


*The numbers don’t sum correctly (even without including Asian workers) because white Hispanics may be double-counted as both white and Hispanic, and black Hispanics may be double-counted as both black and Hispanic.

My students are worried—many of them obsessed by the possibility—they’re not going to be better off than their parents.

As it turns out, they’re right.

According to new research by Raj Chetty et al. (pdf), the rates of “absolute income mobility” (the fraction of children who earn more than their parents) have fallen from approximately 90 percent for children born in 1940 to 50 percent for children born in the 1980s. And the likelihood is, that rate is going to fall even more for the next generations. That’s because rising inequality—not slower economic growth—is the major factor contributing to declining income mobility.

In his 1931 book, The Epic of America, writer and historian James Truslow Adams defined the American Dream as the “dream of a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement.” Such a dream has been central to the legitimacy of capitalism—with each generation supposed to be better off than the previous one. Growing inequality, especially from the mid-1970s onward, took a big chip out of that dream, since it challenged the idea of “just deserts.” But at least there was mobility—that children could still have a life that was “better and richer and fuller” than that of their parents.

Now, it seems that part of the American Dream is quickly disappearing, precisely because of growing inequality.



For each succeeding generation—those born in 1940, 1950, 1960, 1970, and 1980—the chance of making more money than their parents has fallen—from 92 percent (for those born in 1940) to 50 percent (for 1980). That’s an enormous decrease, which is the key statistical conclusion of the study.

But the authors also consider two counterfactual scenarios: “higher GDP growth” (which asks, what would have happened to absolute mobility for the 1980 cohort if the economy had grown as quickly during their lifetimes as it did in the mid-twentieth century, but with GDP distributed across households as it is today?) and “more broadly shared growth” (which asks, what if total GDP grew at the rate observed in recent decades, but GDP was allocated across households as it was for the 1940 birth cohort?). What they find is that less equality is more significant than higher growth:

Under the higher growth counterfactual, the mean rate of absolute mobility is 62%. This rate is 12 percentage points higher than the empirically observed value of 50% in 1980, but closes only 29% of the decline relative to the 92% rate of absolute mobility in the 1940 cohort. The increase in absolute mobility is especially modest given the magnitude of the change in the aggregate economy: a growth rate of 2.5% per working-age family from 1980 to 2010 would have led to GDP of $20 trillion in 2010, $5 trillion (35%) higher than the actual level.

The more broadly shared growth scenario increases the average rate of absolute mobility to 80%, closing 71% of the gap in absolute mobility between the 1940 and 1980 cohorts. The broadly shared growth counterfactual has larger effects on absolute mobility at the bottom of the income distribution, whereas the higher growth counterfactual has larger effects at higher income levels. Since income shares of GDP are larger for high-income individuals, higher growth rates benefit those with higher incomes the most, while a more equal distribution benefits those at the bottom the most.

As we know, neither presidential candidate made inequality a focus of their campaign. President-elect Donald Trump, however, did point out the economy is rigged—and he appealed directly to the anxieties of workers who feel the economy is not delivering for them in the same way it did for their parents. As it turns out, Chetty et al. highlight several sources of those anxieties in the Trump coalition.

They find barely two in five men born in the mid-80s grew up to earn as much, at age 30, as their fathers did at the same age. They show average rates of mobility falling particularly fast in Rust Belt states, especially Michigan and Indiana. And they find a much steeper drop in absolute mobility for the middle-class than for the poor.

Maybe Trump’s victory signals, like George Carlin’s warning a decade earlier, it’s time we stop dreaming and wake up to the end of the American Dream.


Funding for public higher education has been decreasing in recent decades and, as schools rely increasingly on tuition for revenue, student debt has been rising.

That much is pretty well known. What is less a matter of public knowledge and debate is the link between growing racial and ethnic diversity and the decline in funding. I, for one, hadn’t considered it before. I knew the cuts in higher education hurt working-class Americans but I hadn’t thought about those cuts in relation to the increase in minority populations.

Until I read the article by Scott Carlson [ht: mfa], in the Chronicle of Higher Education [ht: mfa], who explores the issue in some depth. Carlson looks back at the history of public higher education (including the GI bill and the Reagan-era cuts in Pell Grants), the dog-whistle politics that have limited access for minority- and first-generation students (beginning when Ronald Reagan was governor of California and continuing with William J. Bennett, President Reagan’s secretary of education), and the undermining of the idea of public colleges and universities as an affordable way for working-class youth—white, black, and brown—to obtain a high-quality postsecondary education.

Since Carlson’s article will soon be out of reach behind a paywall, I want to quote at length his discussion of what has been happening in Arizona:

If the federal government doesn’t expand access to education, more of that burden will fall on states. In many of them, individuals and families now pay for a greater share of college costs than taxpayers do. Some places, like Arizona, have been going the way of California years ago.

Arizona’s legislature is whiter, more male, and more Republican than its population. And lately, that state — which has a clause in its constitution proclaiming that higher education “shall be as nearly free as possible” — has passed deep cuts in funding and big increases in tuition.

One of the leaders of that drive is John Kavanagh, a Republican state representative and community-college professor who has made headlines for his anti-immigration stance and remarks about Hispanics and Muslims. In an interview with The Chronicle, he was more measured, saying that the state has had to raise tuition to close a budget gap.

In 2012, he sponsored a bill that would require all students, regardless of income, to pay at least $2,000 toward tuition, in part to ease the burden on middle- and upper-middle-income students. He believes students should have “some skin in the game,” and bristles at the notion of poor students’ paying less, thanks to tuition revenue that gets redistributed as aid.

“I don’t think it’s a good policy to take money from one student to pay for another student’s tuition,” he said. “There is no reason that even a poor student can’t pay a nominal tuition, given that they are going to earn a lot more money than people who don’t have college degrees.”

But Alfredo Gutierrez, president of Maricopa Community College’s governing board and a former Democratic state senator, doesn’t buy the straight argument against subsidies. The state has been extraordinarily hostile to education, he says, a pattern he believes is tied to race. State funding for the Maricopa system had been going down since 2009, he says, until it got none last year. Half of Maricopa’s students are nonwhite.

“The deterioration to the K-12 system, the community-college system, and the universities will ultimately have to be paid for,” Mr. Gutierrez says. “If this trajectory that we are on continues, this will be an extraordinarily ignorant, uneducated state — certainly not a place that can deal with the economy of the future. And it will create a permanent underclass. There will be little ability to escape poverty.”

But Arizona, he predicts, is on the cusp of change. The Latino population is growing so fast that in six to 10 years, Arizona could flip over politically, possibly taking the state in a different direction, one that is more willing to invest in the education of immigrants and minority groups.

“Perhaps we have lost a generation,” he says, “but there is still a real opportunity to make a change.”

But Arizona is not alone. The deterioration of public education at all levels has been occurring across the country and, like much that has been happening in the United States in recent decades, it represents an attack on those least able to shoulder its effects: the children of the working-class, in all their racial and ethnic diversity.


The working-class—at least the white working-class—has become the main theme of the post-election narrative in the United States. That’s not surprising since, as Jim Tankersley explained:

Whites without a college degree — men and women — made up a third of the 2016 electorate. Trump won them by 39 percentage points, according to exit polls, far surpassing 2012 Republican nominee Mitt Romney’s 25 percent margin. They were the foundation of his victories across the Rust Belt, including a blowout win in Ohio and stunning upsets in Pennsylvania and Wisconsin.

The last time around, these voters comprised more than one-third of the Americans who voted for Barack Obama—and Hilly Clinton failed to duplicate that success, especially in any state that mattered in the final electoral-college tally.

Clinton’s supporters want to blame their campaign debacle on racism (in addition to sexism and nativism) and, in recent days, have expressed their fear that responding to Trump’s victory by reaching out to the white working-class will lead to people of color being marginalized. It seems they’re returning to and rehashing the old, tired debate of class versus identity politics.

The first thing to keep in mind is that Bernie Sanders managed, however maladroitly, to put together a message of economic populism that challenged mainstream Democratic identity politics. He reiterated that view after the election:

Let’s rebuild our crumbling infrastructure and create millions of well-paying jobs. Let’s raise the minimum wage to a living wage, help students afford to go to college, provide paid family and medical leave and expand Social Security. Let’s reform an economic system that enables billionaires like Mr. Trump not to pay a nickel in federal income taxes. And most important, let’s end the ability of wealthy campaign contributors to buy elections.

In the coming days, I will also provide a series of reforms to reinvigorate the Democratic Party. I believe strongly that the party must break loose from its corporate establishment ties and, once again, become a grass-roots party of working people, the elderly and the poor. We must open the doors of the party to welcome in the idealism and energy of young people and all Americans who are fighting for economic, social, racial and environmental justice. We must have the courage to take on the greed and power of Wall Street, the drug companies, the insurance companies and the fossil fuel industry.

Second, as Ben Casselman has pointed out, it’s far from clear Donald Trump will be able to keep his promises to the white working-class.

Trump, if he sticks to his campaign pledges (a big “if”), will probably do little either to help the working class or to hurt the elites, at least economically. What’s more, this simple dichotomy completely leaves out the people who stand to lose the most, based on what little we know about Trump’s plans: poor and low-income families in urban and suburban areas.

Third, and perhaps most important, there’s no necessary contradiction between identity and class politics. The Democratic establishment and American liberals presume such a contradiction is hardwired into the U.S. polity and electoral politics. But, in order to move forward, we need some fresh thinking about the possibility of a real working-class politics.


We need to keep in mind that, historically, political movements around identity were also informed by and infused with working-class politics. Consider, for example, International Women’s Day, which was originally called International Working Women’s Day—the earliest observance of which was held in 1909, organized by the Socialist Party of America, in remembrance of the 1908 strike of the International Ladies Garment Workers’ Union. Or the Civil Rights Movement, which in 1963 organized the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, one of the largest political rallies for human rights in U.S. history. One of the March’s key demands was “a massive federal program to train and place all unemployed workers—Negro and white—on meaningful and dignified jobs at decent wages.” In both cases, movements for new identity-related rights were based on working-class organizations and class-defined forms of grievance and redress.

We also need to understand, as Chris Dillow has pointed out, “the very notion of a ‘white’ working class plays the ruling class’s game of divide and rule.”

This isn’t just because it pits class politics against identity politics, but also because it imputes a racism to workers which is perhaps just as prevalent – and more damaging – among the boss class. It downgrades the many other genuine problems workers have, such as stagnant wages, insecurity and workplace tyranny. And it has the absurd implication that ethnic minorities aren’t part of the working class too.

The flip side is that the interests of the working-class are—or at least can be, with the appropriate discourses, identities, and forms of political organization—the interests of most people. As I argued in Sydney, the working-class can “challenge the pretensions of capital to become a universal class, by posing its own universal aspirations—not for everyone to become a laborer but to abolish the wages system itself.”

As Dillow succinctly put it,

the working class is not a problem in politics. It’s the solution.


Class issues became central to the 2016 presidential campaign in ways that I can’t recall for any other election in my lifetime. And even now, during the post-election debate, the references to class remain widespread.

It’s not that the discussion of class in relation to the election has been particularly interesting or revealing. Americans, especially political pundits, still fumble around with what class means and how it can or should be defined. And one would be hard-pressed to find anything even close to or informed by a particularly Marxian notion of class in the many books, articles, and columns that have appeared in recent years.

So, while I move ahead with my own analysis of the class conditions leading up to Trump’s victory and the class implications of Trumponomics, I thought it would be useful for readers to list in one place references (in chronological order, from oldest to newest) to some of the pieces I’ve written (pertaining only to the United States) over the course of the past couple of years.

Class wars

“There are more—many, many times more—working-class Americans than there are folks at the top of the income pyramid”

Health and class

Race and class

A coming class war?

Class and children

Class and the Goldilocks principle

Class warfare—Democratic and Republican style

Trump and trade

What’s class got to do with it?

Middle-class nation?

Generation screwed—and working-class

Vicious cycle of class inequality and segregation

“Capitalism is the legitimate racket of the ruling class”

Class politics

Middle-class cities?

Class myths

Higher education for the working-class

Flat or falling

Class struggles in America

What about the white working-class?

Condition of the working-class in the United States

Institutions and inequality

Feminism and class politics

Blame globalization?

Mainstream economists, globalization, and Trump

To be clear (as I’ve written many times before), I don’t think one can or should reduce the election to class—to attempt to explain its conditions and consequences only or even primarily in terms of class. That would be a serious mistake. But it would be equally mistaken to ignore or overlook class in attempting to make sense of what is going on right now in the United States.