The
2016 election has forced me to reflect on the many ideals that both our major
parties—and my own generation--have abandoned.
My generation, children of the ‘60s, invented the “generation
gap” by committing ourselves to fundamental change. We expected that when our
turn came, we would change the world. And we knew “the whole world is
watching.” And now our time HAS come, and the whole world IS watching. What do
they see?
Now, so many
years later, it seems to me that our generation has lost the capacity for
idealism. On issue after issue, our baby boomer leadership (in national
office since 1992) has discredited new initiatives as “too idealistic”--meaning
impossible to achieve--while allowing other nations to pass America by. In many
fields, our allies in Europe and Asia and Canada and elsewhere have been
inspired by our pioneering efforts. As I watch other nations embrace American
innovations and build better futures on them, I ask myself over and over, “Why
can’t we?”
I’m too young to remember the Great Depression, but
early on I knew its effects. We spent
summer vacations camping at White Lake State Park in New Hampshire’s White Mountains,
and one day I overheard my father answer a visitor’s question about the
pristine, powder-fine sand covering the beachfront and the lake bottom.
“It was the CCC,” he explained. “They drove trucks out onto the ice in the
winter, dumping hundreds of truckloads of sand.
In spring, the ice melted and the sand settled to the bottom.”
The CCC--Civilian Consolation Core--was one of a
cluster of depression-era projects begun under FDR’s “New Deal.” Such projects
brought four national benefits: First, they created jobs when millions were
unemployed; Second, they recycled tax
money back into the economy as workers spent their new income; Third, they reduced inequality by moving
funds from those who could pay taxes to those who could not; Fourth, they built things the country needed--roads
and bridges, dams and public parks--that otherwise might not be built.
But such projects required massive government spending,
and this meant bigger national debt, or higher taxes for some, or both. The will
for such spending reflected the main ideal of the New Deal: to utilize the
power of government to offset the economic damage and human suffering caused by
the failures of the free market. In a
word, the New Deal took public action to mitigate the defects of capitalism.
In the 1940s, ‘50s, and ‘60s, this idea brought long
periods of peacetime prosperity, low unemployment, a thriving middle class, and
a robust expansion of our national infrastructure. Roads and highways and bridges spread throughout
the USA’s vast expanse as cars became the preferred mode of travel. Private bus and trolley systems gave way to
public transit in many cities. New state and national parks were opened. Clean water systems proliferated. As the population grew and expanded out of our
city centers, our infrastructure—and our work force and its wages--grew with it.
Over the last 40 years, that growth has slowed. Wealth once again has become more
concentrated, real wages have fallen, taxes have been more regressive, and
infrastructure spending has not kept pace with the aging structures we had
built before.
By 2013, when the American Society of Civil Engineers (ASCE)
evaluated 16 categories of infrastructure, they gave out 11 “D’s,” four “C.s,”
and only one “B”--for an overall score of D+.
U.S. spending on infrastructure had reached a 20 year low of 1.7% of GDP. One result: our bridges, most built to last
50 years or less, now average 42 years old; 11% of them are structurally
deficient and 14% more are obsolete.
Our bridges and highways are suffering the effects of
chronic under-funding: the gas tax has not been raised for 24 years, and the Highway
Trust Fund is on the verge of bankruptcy.
The current rate of infrastructure decline could cost the economy 700,00
to 800,000 jobs over the next five years.
Meanwhile, our allies continue to spend on
infrastructure. After World War II, the rebuilding efforts depended heavily on
U.S. support, especially the Marshall plan.
But by now, updating and modernizing naturally requires continued high
spending levels. The difference is, they
are doing it while we are not.
Take the example of our oldest ally, France. With a population less than 20% of the US,
their infrastructure spending is more than 30% of ours. And if you target specific areas, like rail,
the spending gap is even greater. France
spends more than three times the US on rail infrastructure. This month’s Amtrak crash--easily avoidable if
speed-control technology had been installed--is but one example of the price we
are paying. Anyone who attempts one trip
on US trains, and another on French trains, can readily see how far we’ve
fallen behind.
If we look at another
area, investment in roads, the US not only trails France but 7 other allies, PLUS Russia. We just can’t keep up.
Why can’t we?
The head of the ASCE cites “inertia” as the
explanation. The US lacks the
leadership, the political will, the courage to keep up with its allies, he says.
But inertia works both ways. We are at rest, so we stay at rest. Others are in motion, so they stay in motion
and leave us behind.
But we were once in motion too. Why did we not keep moving? Why did we stop? Inertia cannot explain that.
It seems we lost the vision that fueled our motion. FDR’s “New Deal” responded to crisis by
taking action. It established the ideal
that the common good of the nation takes priority whenever and wherever markets
fail. It established the ideal of using
public funds to maintain basic fairness.
It established the ideal of a social consensus to recover from
depression, recover from war, and create the vast infrastructure, high
employment, and steady growth that made our great nation grow.
When economic crisis hit again with the Great Recession
in 2008, massive public works projects like the CCC and other New Deal
initiatives could have provided millions of jobs to rebuild our infrastructure. Instead, our roads and highways and bridges
and dams continue to age and decline, and our rail system is a pale relic of
its former self. And as the example of Flint,
Michigan shows, even our water systems are at risk.
Catholic Social Teaching makes the common good, and
the universal destination of all goods, prime parts of its vision for a more
humane world. My generation once
promised a commitment to those ideals.
But since 1992 my generation’s leaders have not delivered on that
promise.
As our allies outspend us and build the modern
infrastructure that their future requires, I have to ask:
“Why Can’t We?”
© Bernard F. Swain PhD 2016