I love the United States. My parents came here from Trinidad and Tobago the year before I was born, and they and my four siblings eventually became citizens. My parents struggled for many years to get established here, but it has offered us everything – security, belonging, opportunity.
Yet for many Americans, particularly those who have been in this country for generations building the foundations of American prosperity, the American dream is not alive and well.
This point can’t be debated with measures of the United States’ relative affluence; it’s what American workers are telling us, both through how they respond to polls directly on the question and through the political views they increasingly hold. The question isn’t if the American dream is dead, it’s how we go about reviving it.
By the time the writer James Truslow Adams popularized the phrase “American dream” in the 1930s, it had already existed as an ethos for generations. Despite the country’s brutality towards Black and Native people, there is a reason why masses of workers saw the United States as a place without the leftovers of feudalism and aristocratic privilege holding people back. Even Karl Marx himself looked to the world’s “most progressive nation” to lead a “new era of ascendancy” for the working classes after the triumph of Union forces in the civil war.
Today, however, few at home or abroad hold such hopes for our country.
Since it’s just a broad idea, we can’t measure the American dream in empirical terms. If it’s alive, it would be found in the minds of ordinary citizens who feel like they’re part of a project that is rooted in both their individual advancement and national advancement as a whole. And simply, the American dream is dead because ordinary Americans say it’s dead.
Only 27% of people polled this year said “the American dream holds true.” Just 13 years ago, it was double that number. This doesn’t just reflect increasing cynicism in general: a majority of Americans say “the American dream once held true but doesn’t any more.” What’s happened to change so many of our minds?
That polling isn’t uniform and correlates closely to both income and education, both proxies for social class. Among Americans who don’t have four-year college degrees only 22% say that American dream still holds true, half the mark of those with postgraduate degrees. Our national crisis of confidence is mostly a working-class problem.
Americans as a whole, critics retort, are wealthier than ever. But, rather than argue with them, if we want to figure out why people don’t feel like they’re staying above water, we need to examine issues of income disparity and social wealth.
The widening life expectancy gap between poor and rich Americans, which now averages more than 10 years, is perhaps the most dramatic example of a basic point that most of us take for granted: a kid growing up in a wealthy area is likely to have a wildly better life outcome compared to one growing up in a poor one.
By most measures, the US has among the lowest rates of social mobility of any rich country. And our income disparity is even more stark when considering not just pre-tax wages, but the more expansive “social wage” provided in other countries. The Harvard economist Raj Chetty has shown the depth of the problem. By his measure, US absolute mobility – the chance a child will earn more than their parents – has fallen from 90% for children born in 1940 to 50% for children born in the 1980s. The problem isn’t just that growth rates have declined. Chetty and his co-authors note that an economy that maintains our current income disparity but restores growth to booming 1940s and 50s levels would only increase absolute mobility to 62%.
This problem of social mobility is compounded by issues of social welfare owing from our poorly designed entitlements, which are unable to deliver results as well as universal welfare states in Europe that offer things like childcare for new families, guaranteed national healthcare, and free vocation and trade schools.
Another key difference between the US and northern Europe? The role of trade unions and other forms of working-class representation. In 1983, over 20% of Americans belonged to a union. That number is 10% now, compared with almost 70% in countries like Denmark and Sweden.
The loss of good union jobs, particularly in manufacturing, persistent poverty and hopelessness have fueled social ills in communities across the country.
To name just a few of their consequences: we face a serious problem with drug use and overdoses, with 107,543 people dying last year alone. Alcohol abuse has gone up dramatically, as have alcohol-related deaths. Between mass shootings and ordinary crime, people don’t feel safe, and our politicians seem to accept as natural fact that we’re destined to be a country with eight times the murder rate of Germany or where children need to pay attention during “active shooter” drills.
Taken together, it’s obvious that you’d have a better chance of living the American dream in Europe than you would in America.
Of course, some of the pessimism that people feel is inflamed by ideological actors. From parts of the left, earnest attempts to right historical wrongs might have fueled an excess of negativity about the progress we’ve made in recent decades. On the right, a much more dangerous tendency is built around the idea that immigration – a key component of the American dream and our economic progress – is a social ill that needs to be combated.
Thankfully, the United States has a rich, dynamic economy. That’s a good thing and it allows us to support well-designed universal programs to improve the social mobility and material wellbeing of our poor and working classes. We can pursue taxation policies that better redistribute wealth and create greater state support for health care, childcare, housing and job training. We can shift the funding of K-12 education away from unequal property taxes and to a more equal base of federal support. We can also support worker unionization and expand policies to revitalize domestic manufacturing.
As for concerns over immigration, a key part of Donald Trump’s appeal, we can support native-born workers feeling pressure in the job market from immigrants without elevating their situation to a zero-sum, existential battle in which either new Americans or established Americans will survive.
We also, however, need to rally behind a vision of politics to go with these social-democratic policies. A vision of politics in which we assert the moral worth of every American and strive together to build a healthier and more optimistic society.
We can’t pretend like things are going great in our country. But we also must reject the pessimism that says things must stay like this.
