Subject: FW: Revolt of the Rich

 

Interesting article on contemporary American society  originally appeared in
the American Conservative.

 

 

Revolt of the Rich

Our financial elites are the new secessionists.

By MIKE LOFGREN <http://www.theamericanconservative.com/author/mike-lofgren>
• August 27, 2012
<http://www.theamericanconservative.com/articles/revolt-of-the-rich/> 

Mike Lofgren served 16 years on the Republican staff of the House and Senate
Budget Committees. He has just published The Party Is Over: How Republicans
Went Crazy, Democrats Became Useless, and the Middle Class Got Shafted
<https://www.amazon.com/dp/1452658587/ref=as_li_ss_til?tag=theamericonse-20&;
camp=0&creative=0&linkCode=as4&creativeASIN=1452658587&adid=0PA4WZAJKF9246XJ
7XN1&> . 

 

It was 1993, during congressional debate over the North American Free Trade
Agreement. I was having lunch with a staffer for one of the rare Republican
congressmen who opposed the policy of so-called free trade. To this day, I
remember something my colleague said: “The rich elites of this country have
far more in common with their counterparts in London, Paris, and Tokyo than
with their fellow American citizens.”

That was only the beginning of the period when the realities of outsourced
manufacturing, financialization of the economy, and growing income disparity
started to seep into the public consciousness, so at the time it seemed like
a striking and novel statement.

At the end of the Cold War many writers predicted the decline of the
traditional nation-state. Some looked at the demise of the Soviet Union and
foresaw the territorial state breaking up into statelets of different
ethnic, religious, or economic compositions. This happened in the Balkans,
the former Czechoslovakia, and Sudan. Others predicted a weakening of the
state due to the rise of Fourth Generation warfare and the inability of
national armies to adapt to it. The quagmires of Iraq and Afghanistan lend
credence to that theory. There have been numerous books about globalization
and how it would eliminate borders. But I am unaware of a well-developed
theory from that time about how the super-rich and the corporations they run
would secede from the nation state.

I do not mean secession by physical withdrawal from the territory of the
state, although that happens from time to time—for example, Erik Prince, who
was born into a fortune, is related to the even bigger Amway fortune, and
made yet another fortune as CEO of the mercenary-for-hire firm Blackwater,
moved his company (renamed Xe) to the United Arab Emirates in 2011. What I
mean by secession is a withdrawal into enclaves, an internal immigration,
whereby the rich disconnect themselves from the civic life of the nation and
from any concern about its well being except as a place to extract loot.

Our plutocracy now lives like the British in colonial India: in the place
and ruling it, but not of it. If one can afford private security, public
safety is of no concern; if one owns a Gulfstream jet, crumbling bridges
cause less apprehension—and viable public transportation doesn’t even show
up on the radar screen. With private doctors on call and a chartered plane
to get to the Mayo Clinic, why worry about Medicare?

Being in the country but not of it is what gives the contemporary American
super-rich their quality of being abstracted and clueless. Perhaps that
explains why Mitt Romney’s regular-guy anecdotes always seem a bit strained.
I discussed this with a radio host who recounted a story about Robert Rubin,
former secretary of the Treasury as well as an executive at Goldman Sachs
and CitiGroup. Rubin was being chauffeured through Manhattan to reach some
event whose attendees consisted of the Great and the Good such as himself.
Along the way he encountered a traffic jam, and on arriving to his
event—late—he complained to a city functionary with the power to look into
it. “Where was the jam?” asked the functionary. Rubin, who had lived most of
his life in Manhattan, a place of east-west numbered streets and north-south
avenues, couldn’t tell him. The super-rich who determine our political
arrangements apparently inhabit another, more refined dimension.

To some degree the rich have always secluded themselves from the gaze of the
common herd; their habit for centuries has been to send their offspring to
private schools. But now this habit is exacerbated by the plutocracy’s
palpable animosity towards public education and public educators, as Michael
Bloomberg has demonstrated. To the extent public education “reform” is
popular among billionaires and their tax-exempt foundations, one suspects it
is as a lever to divert the more than $500 billion dollars in annual
federal, state, and local education funding into private hands—meaning
themselves and their friends. What Halliburton did for U.S. Army logistics,
school privatizers will do for public education. A century ago, at least we
got some attractive public libraries out of Andrew Carnegie. Noblesse oblige
like Carnegie’s is presently lacking among our seceding plutocracy.

In both world wars, even a Harvard man or a New York socialite might know
the weight of an army pack. Now the military is for suckers from the
laboring classes whose subprime mortgages you just sliced into CDOs and sold
to gullible investors in order to buy your second Bentley or rustle up the
cash to get Rod Stewart to perform at your birthday party. The sentiment
among the super-rich towards the rest of America is often one of contempt
rather than noblesse.

Stephen Schwarzman, the hedge fund billionaire CEO of the Blackstone Group
who hired Rod Stewart for his $5-million birthday party, believes it is the
rabble who are socially irresponsible. Speaking about low-income citizens
who pay no income tax, he says: “You have to have skin in the game. I’m not
saying how much people should do. But we should all be part of the system.”

But millions of Americans who do not pay federal income taxes do pay federal
payroll taxes. These taxes are regressive, and the dirty little secret is
that over the last several decades they have made up a greater and greater
share of federal revenues. In 1950, payroll and other federal retirement
contributions constituted 10.9 percent of all federal revenues. By 2007, the
last “normal” economic year before federal revenues began falling, they made
up 33.9 percent. By contrast, corporate income taxes were 26.4 percent of
federal revenues in 1950. By 2007 they had fallen to 14.4 percent. So who
has skin in the game?

While there is plenty to criticize the incumbent president for, notably his
broadening and deepening of President George W. Bush’s extra-constitutional
surveillance state, under President Obama the overall federal tax burden has
not been raised, it has been lowered. Approximately half the deficit impact
of the stimulus bill was the result of tax-cut provisions. The temporary
payroll-tax cut and other miscellaneous tax-cut provisions make up the rest
of the cuts we have seen in the last three and a half years. Yet for the
president’s heresy of advocating that billionaires who receive the bulk of
their income from capital gains should pay taxes at the same rate as the
rest of us, Schwarzman said this about Obama: “It’s a war. It’s like when
Hitler invaded Poland in 1939.”  For a hedge-fund billionaire to defend his
extraordinary tax privileges vis-à-vis the rest of the citizenry in such a
manner shows an extraordinary capacity to be out-of-touch. He lives in a
world apart, psychologically as well as in the flesh.

Schwarzman benefits from the so-called “carried interest rule” loophole:
financial sharks typically take their compensation in the form of capital
gains rather than salaries, thus knocking down their income-tax rate from 35
percent to 15 percent. But that’s not the only way Mr. Skin-in-the-Game
benefits: the 6.2 percent Social Security tax and the 1.45 percent Medicare
tax apply only to wages and salaries, not capital gains distributions.
Accordingly, Schwarzman is stiffing the system in two ways: not only is his
income-tax rate less than half the top marginal rate, he is shorting the
Social Security system that others of his billionaire colleagues like Pete
Peterson say is unsustainable and needs to be cut.

This lack of skin in the game may explain why Romney has been so coy about
releasing his income-tax returns. It would make sense for someone with $264
million in net worth to joke that he is “unemployed”—as if he were some
jobless sheet metal worker in Youngstown—if he were really saying in code
that his income stream is not a salary subject to payroll deduction. His
effective rate for federal taxes, at 14 percent, is lower than that of many
a wage slave.

After the biggest financial meltdown in 80 years and a consequent long,
steep drop in the American standard of living, who is the nominee for one of
the only two parties allowed to be competitive in American politics? None
other than Mitt Romney, the man who says corporations are people. Opposing
him will be the incumbent president, who will raise up to a billion dollars
to compete. Much of that loot will come from the same corporations,
hedge-fund managers, merger-and-acquisition specialists, and
leveraged-buyout artists the president will denounce in pro forma fashion.

The super-rich have seceded from America even as their grip on its control
mechanisms has tightened. But how did this evolve historically, what does it
mean for the rest of us, and where is it likely to be going?

That wealth-worship—and a consequent special status for the wealthy as a
kind of clerisy—should have arisen in the United States is hardly
surprising, given the peculiar sort of Protestantism that was planted here
from the British Isles. Starting with the Puritanism of New England, there
has been a long and intimate connection between the sanctification of wealth
and America’s economic and social relationships. The rich are a class apart
because they are the elect.

Most present-day Americans, if they think about the historical roots of our
wealth-worship at all, will say something about free markets, rugged
individualism, and the Horatio Alger myth—all in a purely secular context.
But perhaps the most notable 19th-century exponent of wealth as virtue and
poverty as the mark of Cain was Russell Herman Conwell, a canny Baptist
minister, founder of perhaps the first tabernacle large enough that it could
later be called a megachurch, and author of the immensely famous “Acres of
Diamonds” speech of 1890 that would make him a rich man. This is what he
said:

I say that you ought to get rich, and it is your duty to get rich. … The men
who get rich may be the most honest men you find in the community. Let me
say here clearly … ninety-eight out of one hundred of the rich men of
America are honest. That is why they are rich. That is why they are trusted
with money. … I sympathize with the poor, but the number of poor who are to
be sympathized with is very small. To sympathize with a man whom God has
punished for his sins … is to do wrong … let us remember there is not a poor
person in the United States who was not made poor by his own shortcomings.

Evidently Conwell was made of sterner stuff than the sob-sister moralizing
in the Sermon on the Mount. Somewhat discordantly, though, Conwell had been
drummed out of the military during the Civil War for deserting his post. For
Conwell, as for the modern tax-avoiding expat billionaire, the dollar sign
tends to trump Old Glory.

The conjoining of wealth, Christian morality, and the American way of life
reached an apotheosis in Bruce Barton’s 1925 book The Man Nobody Knows. The
son of a Congregationalist minister, Barton, who was an advertising
executive, depicted Jesus as a successful salesman, publicist, and the very
role model of the modern businessman.

But this peculiarly American creed took a severe hit after the crash of
1929, and wealth ceased to be equated with godliness. While the number of
Wall Street suicides has been exaggerated in national memory, Jesse
Livermore, perhaps the most famous of the Wall Street speculators, shot
himself, and so did several others of his profession. There was then still a
lingering old-fashioned sense of shame now generally absent from the
über-rich. While many of the elites hated Franklin Roosevelt—consider the
famous New Yorker cartoon wherein the rich socialite tells her companions,
“Come along. We’re going to the Trans-Lux to hiss Roosevelt”—most had the
wit to make a calculated bet that they would have to give a little of their
wealth, power, and prestige to retain the rest, particularly with the
collapsing parliamentary systems of contemporary Europe in mind. Even a
bootlegging brigand like Joe Kennedy Sr. reconciled himself to the New Deal.

And so it lasted for a generation: the wealthy could get more
wealth—fabulous fortunes were made in World War II; think of Henry J.
Kaiser—but they were subject to a windfall-profits tax. And tycoons like
Kaiser constructed the Hoover Dam and liberty ships rather than the
synthetic CDOs that precipitated the latest economic collapse. In the 1950s,
many Republicans pressed Eisenhower to lower the prevailing 91 percent top
marginal income tax rate, but citing his concerns about the deficit, he
refused. In view of our present $15 trillion gross national debt, Ike was
right.

Characteristic of the era was the widely misquoted and misunderstood
statement of General Motors CEO and Secretary of Defense Charles E. “Engine
Charlie” Wilson, who said he believed “what was good for the country was
good for General Motors, and vice versa.” He expressed, however clumsily,
the view that the fates of corporations and the citizenry were conjoined. It
is a view a world away from the present regime of downsizing, offshoring,
profits without production, and financialization. The now-prevailing Milton
Friedmanite economic dogma holds that a corporation that acts responsibly to
the community is irresponsible. Yet somehow in the 1950s the country eked
out higher average GDP growth rates than those we have experienced in the
last dozen years.

After the 2008 collapse, the worst since the Great Depression, the rich,
rather than having the modesty to temper their demands, this time have made
the calculated bet that they are politically invulnerable—Wall Street moguls
angrily and successfully rejected executive-compensation limits even for
banks that had been bailed out by taxpayer funds. And what I saw in Congress
after the 2008 crash confirms what economist Simon Johnson has said: that
Wall Street, and behind it the commanding heights of power that control Wall
Street, has seized the policy-making apparatus in Washington. Both parties
are in thrall to what our great-grandparents would have called the Money
Power. One party is furtive and hypocritical in its money chase; the other
enthusiastically embraces it as the embodiment of the American Way. The
Citizens United Supreme Court decision of two years ago would certainly
elicit a response from the 19th-century populists similar to their 1892
Omaha platform. It called out the highest court, along with the rest of the
political apparatus, as rotted by money.

We meet in the midst of a nation brought to the verge of moral, political,
and material ruin. Corruption dominates the ballot-box, the Legislatures,
the Congress, and touches even the ermine of the bench. The people are
demoralized. … The newspapers are largely subsidized or muzzled, public
opinion silenced, business prostrated, homes covered with mortgages, labor
impoverished, and the land concentrating in the hands of capitalists. The
urban workmen are denied the right to organize for self-protection, imported
pauperized labor beats down their wages. … The fruits of the toil of
millions are boldly stolen to build up colossal fortunes for a few,
unprecedented in the history of mankind, and the possessors of these, in
turn, despise the Republic and endanger liberty. From the same prolific womb
of governmental injustice we breed the two great classes—tramps and
millionaires.

It is no coincidence that as the Supreme Court has been removing the last
constraints on the legalized corruption of politicians, the American
standard of living has been falling at the fastest rate in decades.
According to the Federal Reserve Board’s report of June 2012, the median net
worth of families plummeted almost 40 percent between 2007 and 2010. This is
not only a decline when measured against our own past economic performance;
it also represents a decline relative to other countries, a far cry from the
post-World War II era, when the United States had by any measure the highest
living standard in the world. A study by the Bertelsmann Foundation
concluded that in measures of economic equality, social mobility, and
poverty prevention, the United States ranks 27th out of the 31 advanced
industrial nations belonging to the Organization for Economic Cooperation
and Development. Thank God we are still ahead of Turkey, Chile, and Mexico!

This raises disturbing questions for those who call themselves
conservatives. Almost all conservatives who care to vote congregate in the
Republican Party. But Republican ideology celebrates outsourcing,
globalization, and takeovers as the glorious fruits of capitalism’s
“creative destruction.” As a former Republican congressional staff member, I
saw for myself how GOP proponents of globalized vulture capitalism, such as
Grover Norquist, Dick Armey, Phil Gramm, and Lawrence Kudlow, extolled the
offshoring and financialization process as an unalloyed benefit. They were
quick to denounce as socialism any attempt to mitigate its impact on
society. Yet their ideology is nothing more than an upside-down utopianism,
an absolutist twin of Marxism. If millions of people’s interests get damaged
in the process of implementing their ideology, it is a necessary outcome of
scientific laws of economics that must never be tampered with, just as Lenin
believed that his version of materialist laws were final and inexorable.

If a morally acceptable American conservatism is ever to extricate itself
from a pseudo-scientific inverted Marxist economic theory, it must grasp
that order, tradition, and stability are not coterminous with an uncritical
worship of the Almighty Dollar, nor with obeisance to the demands of the
wealthy. Conservatives need to think about the world they want: do they
really desire a social Darwinist dystopia?

The objective of the predatory super-rich and their political handmaidens is
to discredit and destroy the traditional nation state and auction its
resources to themselves. Those super-rich, in turn, aim to create a
“tollbooth” economy, whereby more and more of our highways, bridges,
libraries, parks, and beaches are possessed by private oligarchs who will
extract a toll from the rest of us. Was this the vision of the Founders? Was
this why they believed governments were instituted among men—that the very
sinews of the state should be possessed by the wealthy in the same manner
that kingdoms of the Old World were the personal property of the monarch?

Since the first ziggurats rose in ancient Babylonia, the so-called forces of
order, stability, and tradition have feared a revolt from below. Beginning
with Edmund Burke and Joseph de Maistre after the French Revolution, a whole
genre of political writings—some classical liberal, some conservative, some
reactionary—has propounded this theme. The title of Ortega y Gasset’s most
famous work, The Revolt of the Masses, tells us something about the mental
atmosphere of this literature.

But in globalized postmodern America, what if this whole vision about where
order, stability, and a tolerable framework for governance come from, and
who threatens those values, is inverted? What if Christopher Lasch came
closer to the truth in The Revolt of the Elites, wherein he wrote, “In our
time, the chief threat seems to come from those at the top of the social
hierarchy, not the masses”? Lasch held that the elites—by which he meant not
just the super-wealthy but also their managerial coat holders and
professional apologists—were undermining the country’s promise as a
constitutional republic with their prehensile greed, their asocial cultural
values, and their absence of civic responsibility.

Lasch wrote that in 1995. Now, almost two decades later, the super-rich have
achieved escape velocity from the gravitational pull of the very society
they rule over. They have seceded from America.

The American Conservative is the home of independent, intelligent
conservatism. Follow @amconmag <http://www.twitter.com/amconmag> .

 

 

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