Evicted (part 2)

February 27, 2021

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The subtitle of Matthew Desmond’s Evicted is Poverty and Profit in the American City. The author is interested not only in studying poverty, but in understanding the interaction between poor tenants and their landlords. He begins with the observation that evictions are much more common than they used to be:

Even in the most desolate areas of American cities, evictions used to be rare. They used to draw crowds. Eviction riots erupted during the Depression, even though the number of poor families who faced eviction each year was a fraction of what it is today.

Obviously, we must ask why so many renters are unable to afford their housing. But we must also ask how landlords find it profitable to rent to people who have trouble paying the rent, a situation that bears a suspicious resemblance to subprime lending to borrowers who have trouble making their loan payments. We need to understand both affordability and profitability.


Desmond cites a common standard of affordability:

For almost a century, there has been broad consensus in America that families should spend no more than 30 percent of their income on housing. Until recently, most renting families met this goal. But times have changed—in Milwaukee and across America. Every year in this country, people are evicted from their homes not by the tens of thousands or even the hundreds of thousands but by the millions.

At the lower end of the income distribution, wages have not kept pace with the cost of decent housing. The minimum wage for both the United States as a whole and the state of Wisconsin is $7.25 an hour. Even if one works a 40-hour week—and many low-wage jobs only offer part-time hours—that’s only about $1,200 a month. 30 percent of that is only $360. Most of the poor find that they have to spend over half of their income on housing, leaving very little for other expenses.

The loss of manufacturing jobs hit cities like Milwaukee very hard. Those jobs provided an important ladder of upward mobility for people without college educations. Most of the service-sector jobs they were able to get paid less. Women, especially African-American and Hispanic women, were overrepresented in those jobs, so female-headed families were affected the most.

In addition, just when wages for low-skilled labor were declining, welfare reform pushed more poor mothers into the labor force. The Wisconsin Works program was a pioneer in this effort, and it became the state’s version of Temporary Assistance to Needy Families (TANF) when that program replaced Aid to Families with Dependent Children (AFDC) nationwide in 1997. Traditionally, society hadn’t expected unmarried mothers with children to be employed outside the home, but the new program added work requirements to public assistance benefits for able-bodied adults. If a recipient could not find regular employment, Wisconsin Works provided a community job and/or training, but income was set at $673 per month, even less than one would earn in a minimum-wage job. The program also put a five-year lifetime limitation on benefits. For some, this provided a transition out of poverty, but for many female family heads, it simply replaced welfare poverty with working poverty. It also intensified the competition for low-skill employment, helping to hold wages down.

Another development that affected the affordability of housing was the boom in subprime mortgages that led up to the financial crisis of 2008. Abandoning the caution of traditional bankers, a new gang of gung-ho lenders made quick profits by making risky loans. These were often adjustable-rate mortgages with a very low “teaser rate” to create an impression of affordability, but with the potential for large payment increases later. The lenders often didn’t care whether borrowers could make their payments or not, because they quickly sold off the mortgages to financial firms that bundled them for sale to unwary investors. Firms that rate such securities cooperated by underestimating the risks involved. When the housing bubble burst, many owners found that they owed more than their house was worth, and the market experienced a wave of defaults and foreclosures. That left cities like Milwaukee with abandoned homes and displaced homeowners thrown into the rental market. Minority families were hit the hardest, since they had few financial assets besides their homes. “Between 2007 and 2010, the average white family experienced an 11 percent reduction in wealth, but the average black family lost 31 percent of its wealth.”


A housing market consists of many sub-markets, with profit-making opportunities at many income levels. Businesses can profit by selling luxurious housing to the wealthy or the bare necessities to the poor. By definition, the poor cannot afford to buy as much as the rich.

But Desmond makes a less obvious point, that the poor are also vulnerable to exploitation, because businesses sometimes make excessive profits by preying on the less fortunate. This is consistent with the old adage that “beggars can’t be choosers,” although Desmond doesn’t use that expression. People who are desperately needy have limited choices and bargaining power, and sometimes put up with being underpaid or overcharged. I think that orthodox neoclassical economics has had trouble acknowledging this. It prefers to describe free markets in which every participant is “free to choose” (in the words of one of Milton Friedman’s book titles), and needn’t engage in any exchange that isn’t free and fair. But freedom and bargaining power are social variables, not constants.

The people of Texas got a taste of desperate need when millions of them lost power during the recent cold wave. They were not only deprived of heat, but many of them were exploited by utility companies trying to extract windfall profits with rate spikes. A democratic society does not have to allow the powerful to take advantage of the needy. That’s why utility companies are usually regulated. Desmond argues that society has to balance the rights of businesses to make money against the rights of citizens to obtain the necessities of life:

If we acknowledge that housing is a basic right of all Americans, then we must think differently about another right: the right to make as much money as possible by providing families with housing—and especially to profit excessively from the less fortunate. Since the founding of this country, a long line of American visionaries have called for a more balanced relationship, one that protects people from the profit motive, “not to destroy individualism,” in Franklin D. Roosevelt’s words, “but to protect it.” Child labor laws, the minimum wage, workplace safety regulations, and other protections we now take for granted came about when we chose to place the well-being of people above money.

A prime example of exploitation in housing markets is the treatment of African Americans during and after their Great Migration from the rural South to cities like Milwaukee. Segregated into ghettos and denied home mortgages even by the FHA, they became a “captive tenant base” at the mercy of inner-city landlords. Real estate speculators also made outsize profits by “blockbusting”—buying houses cheaply from white homeowners on the edge of the expanding ghetto and selling them at inflated cost and one-sided terms to black buyers without other homeownership options. The 1968 Fair Housing Act prohibited discrimination, but it persists in more subtle forms to this day.

Desmond sees racial exploitation as only the most egregious example of a more general process of slum creation. Capitalism did not start out like a game of Monopoly, where all the players get an equal amount of money and an equal chance to buy properties. Capitalism developed within societies already sharply divided between landowners and landless laborers. The transformation of landless laborers into industrial workers created windfall profits for urban landlords.

While agrarian families were driven from the land to increasingly congested cities, the competition for space drove up land values and rents. Urban landlords quickly realized that piles of money could be made by creating slums.

More recently, the failure of low-end wages to keep pace with inflation, along with welfare reform and the 2008 financial crisis, has produced a surge of low-income renters. That creates an opportunity to make large profits without providing a high quality of housing. One sign of that is the relatively high rents being charged for low-end properties.

At the time, median rent for a two-bedroom apartment in Milwaukee was $600. Ten percent of units rented at or below $480, and 10 percent rented at or above $750. A mere $270 separated some of the cheapest units in the city from some of the most expensive.

That meant that a landlord could charge almost as much rent on a dilapidated home in a poor neighborhood as on a decent home in a nicer neighborhood. Not surprisingly then, “In Sherrena’s portfolio, her worst properties yielded her biggest returns.” Squeezing as much money as possible out of needy people aggravates poverty, but it is a viable business model. That also helps explain why some landlords are comfortable accepting drug users and other troublesome tenants.

Some landlords neglected to screen tenants for the same reason payday lenders offered unsecured, high-interest loans to families with unpaid debt or lousy credit; for the same reason that the subprime industry gave mortgages to people who could not afford them….There was a business model at the bottom of every market.

A high rate of eviction has become a normal feature of the low-end rental market. Landlords charge more rent than tenants can really afford; tenants fall behind on rent; landlords refuse to maintain properties; tenants leave or are evicted; and then the cycle repeats with another needy tenant. Evicted tenants sink deeper into poverty for many reasons:

Losing your home and possessions and often your job; being stamped with an eviction record and denied government housing assistance; relocating to degrading housing in poor and dangerous neighborhoods; and suffering from increased material hardship, homelessness, depression, and illness—this is eviction’s fallout.

Desmond believes that allowing this situation to persist is fundamentally at odds with our American values. Whether you agree may depend on what you think our American values are. Democracy? Christian love? Or rugged individualism and unbridled pursuit of self interest. If the citizens of our democracy have the will to tackle slum housing, ways to do so are not too hard to imagine. Desmond’s policy recommendations will be the subject of the final post.



February 24, 2021

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Matthew Desmond. Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City. New York: Crown Publishing Group, 2016.

Matthew Desmond chose to become a sociologist mainly because he wanted to study poverty. And he wanted to study it firsthand, by living alongside some of the poorest people in America. To that end, he spent over a year living in two kinds of low-end housing in Milwaukee, a trailer park on the predominantly white South Side, and a rooming house on the predominantly black North Side. (After reading Isabel Wilkerson’s Caste, I am even more troubled by the social distinctions “white” and “black”, which perpetuate the illusion that people can be divided into distinct “races” on the basis of appearances.) Desmond supplemented his observations and recorded conversations with other forms of research, including his own formal survey of renters.

Desmond brought to his research a belief that too many previous studies treat the poor “as if they lived in quarantine…cut off from the rest of society.” That makes it too easy to attribute poverty to the deficiencies of poor people themselves, or to historical forces beyond the reach of current social policies and practices. Desmond thought of it differently:

Poverty was a relationship, I thought, involving poor and rich people alike. To understand poverty, I needed to understand that relationship. This sent me searching for a process that bound poor and rich people together in mutual dependence and struggle. Eviction was such a process.

The main focus of the book is “the powerful ways the private housing sector is shaping the lives of poor American families and their communities.” Instead of assuming that the kind of housing the poor get is simply a consequence of their poverty, Desmond is interested in how the decisions of landlords, builders, and housing policymakers help create and perpetuate poverty.

The book makes a major contribution to this subject by combining detailed stories of tenant households with thoughtful analysis. Many readers may find the book a little hard to follow, since the author scatters both the narrative and analytic information over so many chapters. Without explaining why, he chose not to use available software that could have helped with organizational tasks, such as telling a family’s story from start to finish in one place, or bringing together generalizations about how housing markets work to further disadvantage the poor. I will organize this review differently than he does, starting with the household stories and ending with the analysis of housing markets.

North Side

Let’s meet some of the main characters, starting with the North Side of Milwaukee. Desmond has changed the names of all his subjects for the sake of confidentiality.

Sherrena was a landlord specializing in renting to the black poor. She had been a schoolteacher, but preferred the life of an independent entrepreneur. Her husband Quentin quit his own job to work as her property manager. Desmond says that Sherrena “knew the ghetto’s value and how money could be made from a property that looked worthless to people who didn’t know any better.” Poor tenants had trouble paying very much rent, but that problem was more than offset by the very low prices at which Sherrena could acquire the properties. If she bought them cheap and put as little money into them as she could get away with, she could make a good living, netting about $10,000 a month.

The same thing that made homeownership a bad investment in poor, black neighborhoods—depressed property values—made landlording there a potentially lucrative one. Property values for similar homes were double or triple in white, middle-class sections of the city; but rents in those neighborhoods were not….When it came to return on investment, it was hard to beat owning property in the inner city.

Many of Sherrena’s properties had building code violations or other deficiencies. But because tenants were vulnerable to eviction due to rent shortages or other personal problems, they were in a poor position to complain. “For many landlords, it was cheaper to deal with the expense of eviction than to maintain their properties.” Turnover was high, and evictions were a normal part of doing business.

The Hinkstons were a three-generation family living in one of Sherrena’s run-down properties, which Desmond calls the “rat hole.” The “mother hen,” Doreen, lived with her four children, the oldest of whom, Patrice, had three young children of her own. For a time, Patrice and her children had moved into the apartment upstairs, but Sherrena evicted her after her work hours were cut and she fell behind on the rent. Then all eight of them lived in the small two-bedroom, one-bath apartment, with its roaches, cracked windows, rear door off its hinges, sagging bathroom ceiling, and chronically stopped-up plumbing. They resorted to withholding rent in order to make repairs or pressure Sherrena to make them, but she started an eviction process, only relenting when Doreen agreed to make up the back rent. While this was going on, Doreen’s 19-year-old daughter, Natasha, became pregnant. She hoped to find alternative housing, but ended up bringing her baby home to the same apartment. The Hinkston women did not rely much on men to support them, having experienced too many men as economically undependable, abusive, or in trouble with the law.

Living next door to the Hinkstons was Lamar, an older man with prosthetic legs, and his two teenage sons. Lamar had joined the navy at 17, been dishonorably discharged, and become addicted to crack several years later. His feet had frozen while he was sleeping in an abandoned house, and in a state of delirium he jumped from an upper-floor window. He lost his legs, but soon overcame his crack habit. Now he lived on a small public assistance stipend and odd jobs. Sometimes Sherrena let him work off part of his rent, but she complained about the quality of his work, while he complained that she paid him too little. She was already threatening him with eviction when a fire destroyed another apartment in the same building. Lamar lost his apartment when Sherrena elected to have the whole building torn down.

Arleen was another tenant whose rent took most of her public assistance check. Like her mother before her, she was a poor single mother, in Arleen’s case with five children. She had once qualified for subsidized housing, but she gave it up because she thought she could live independently with the help of a friend. When that didn’t work out, she was unable to get back into subsidized housing, which serves only a small percentage of the poor. She rented an apartment from Sherrena, but fell seriously behind on the rent after paying for her sister’s funeral expenses. Sherrena was planning to evict her, but when she showed the apartment to a prospective tenant named Crystal, Crystal offered to let Arleen stay with her until she could find another place.

Crystal was not the easiest person to live with, since she could manifest warm Christian love one minute and become violently angry the next. She had her own troubled history, having been born premature when her mother was stabbed, and then placed in dozens of foster homes starting at age 5. At 17, she was diagnosed with a host of psychological problems, including bipolar disorder, posttraumatic stress disorder, effects of abuse and neglect, and borderline intellectual functioning. The psychologist concluded that she would need “long-term mental health treatment and supportive assistance if she [was] to be maintained in the community as an adult.” The arrangement between Crystal and Arleen unraveled after Crystal called the police, mostly because of noisy fighting in the apartment above them, but also because of a “roaring argument” with Arleen. The police pressured Sherrena to resolve the problems, and she responded by evicting all concerned. Milwaukee’s nuisance property ordinance allowed police departments to cite landlords for nuisances involving their tenants, and landlords often responded by evicting people regardless of whether they were aggressors or victims of abuse.

Arleen embarked on a long search for housing before finding something she could barely afford, although it had no stove or refrigerator. Crystal lived at a homeless shelter for a time, where she teamed up with another homeless woman, Vanetta. Their search for housing was also long and frustrating, especially because they were trying to escape from the North Side. After they did finally get something—also without a stove and refrigerator—Crystal got into a violent conflict with a friend of Vanetta’s and got evicted. Homeless again, she turned to prostitution. Vanetta was already in legal trouble before she met Crystal, having cooperated with another woman in stealing purses from customers coming out of a store. At the time, she was facing eviction and possible homelessness because her work hours had been cut. When she was finally sentenced, she got 15 months in state prison and 66 months of extended supervision.

South Side

The other landlord featured in Evicted is Tobin, who owned a trailer park in Milwaukee but lived 70 miles away. Here the residents were white, raising the interesting question of how segregation persists in an era of fair housing laws. The racial barrier was more than financial, since the average rent was only $550 a month. The park had 131 trailers, with almost one-third of the residents behind in the rent at any one time. Tobin paid one of the long-time residents to manage the property, but came in personally to collect rent and make decisions about delinquent tenants. He could be flexible with tenants who seemed able to make up or work off back rent, but he did average several evictions every month.

Tobin netted well over $400,000 a year in income, placing him in the top 1% of earners. He did this by minimizing maintenance on his trailers, but keeping them rented by not screening his tenants very carefully. “Most impressive was his ability to transform an utterly trashed trailer into a rent-generating machine in a matter of days—and for next to nothing.” When Desmond arrived on the scene, Tobin was in danger of losing his license because of code violations and the park’s reputation for drugs, prostitution and violence. He had to enter into an agreement with the city to address the code violations, evict the most troublesome tenants, and sell the park within a year. The new management had a reputation for being tougher with tenants. Desmond observes that variations in screening practices create a “geography of advantage and disadvantage.” The poorest and most troubled renters end up clustered together in the same locations. Municipalities can ask landlords to enforce higher standards, while overlooking the question of where tenants who don’t meet those standards are going to live.

Larraine was a middle-aged woman with a learning impairment attributed to a bad fall in her childhood. She had grown up in public housing, struggled in school, and dropped out in tenth grade. She had two long-term relationships, one ending in divorce and the other in the man’s imprisonment and death from a drug overdose. Now she lived alone in the trailer that she tried to keep neat and clean. She lived on $714 a month in Supplemental Security Income and $80 worth of food stamps. She was chronically behind on rent or utilities, sometimes underpaying the rent in order to keep the gas or electricity on. She had alienated family members by borrowing money and not repaying it. When she did have cash on hand, she sometimes spent it on nonessentials rather than saving it for future expenses. (Desmond points out that SSI recipients are limited in what they can save without having their monthly payments reduced, and that people who anticipate only future hardship may grab momentary pleasures when they get the chance.) Tobin lost patience with Larraine and evicted her even after she finally managed to come up with the back rent. She lost most of her possessions when the eviction movers placed them in storage and she was unable to pay the storage bills, a common occurrence in eviction cases. With no place to go, she was taken in temporarily by other trailer park residents.

Drugs play a prominent role in the next story. Pam’s mother died in a car accident when Pam was in high school, and her father spent time in prison on drug and alcohol charges. Pam reacted badly when her brother died of a heroin overdose, and she started using crack. She spent ten months in jail for drug offenses. Now 30, she lived in the trailer park with Ned, another crack user with a daughter from a previous relationship. Pam had two daughters of her own from a drug dealer who had abused her. Ned and Pam also had a daughter together; and Pam was seven months pregnant when Tobin took them to eviction court. Both Ned and Pam had jobs, but Pam lost hers when her car broke down and she couldn’t afford to repair it. Their financial problems were aggravated by the money they spent on their drug habits. When they were evicted, they too found temporary housing with other park residents, Scott and Teddy.

Scott was a 30-year-old gay man who cared for 52-year-old Teddy, who had serious health problems. Scott differed from most of the tenants Desmond met because he had not always been poor, but had graduated from a technical college and worked as a nurse in a nursing home. He did have a troubled family history, however, since his mother “was made to marry” the man who raped her on a date, and who dropped out of her life before long. Scott also told a counselor he had been sexually abused, although he did not say who the abuser was. Scott’s downward spiral began when he slipped a disk in his back and became addicted to the opioids he was prescribed. Then he lost his job and his nursing license when he was caught stealing drugs from patients. He was in a homeless shelter when he met Teddy. The two of them decided that they could afford to live in the trailer park by combining Teddy’s SSI check with Scott’s income from odd jobs. When Scott was suffering withdrawal sickness from opioids, another trailer park resident started him on heroin.

Scott and Teddy’s decision to share their trailer with Pam and Ned turned out badly. Tobin added what Pam and Ned owed him to Scott and Teddy’s bill, and then evicted them when they couldn’t pay. Teddy decided to return to his home state of Tennessee. Scott struggled to find housing, work and sobriety, and he wound up homeless when he couldn’t afford both his rent and the cost of a methadone clinic. Then he got a big break, when a homeless shelter helped him get a decent apartment with subsidized rent, and later employed him as a resident manager. He had remained sober since then. As for the couple Scott and Teddy took in, Pam’s baby was almost due when she and Ned were evicted. She gave birth in a cheap motel, having been turned away from numerous rental properties. Ned lost his construction job for missing work during the eviction, illustrating how evictions are causes as well as consequences of poverty. Eventually Ned got an apartment for them by leaving Pam off the lease, since many landlords seemed reluctant to accept her children, despite laws against such discrimination. Ned found another construction job, and Pam found work as a medical assistant.

Although the detailed accounts of these lives are one of the book’s strong points, Evicted is more than a book of stories. Next time I’ll discuss Desmond’s sociological insights into what he observed.


Still the Party of Trump

February 15, 2021

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The United States Senate has voted to acquit Donald Trump of inciting an insurrection after the 2020 election. Seven Republicans joined all fifty Democrats in the most bipartisan vote for conviction in history, but it fell ten votes short of the needed two-thirds majority.

President Trump’s first impeachment was for abusing the power of his office to get himself reelected. He asked the government of Ukraine to open an investigation of Joe Biden in return for U.S. military assistance. Many Republicans acknowledged that the evidence supported the charge, but questioned whether the matter was serious enough to constitute “high crimes and misdemeanors.”

Now some Republican Senators, notably leader Mitch McConnell, are ignoring the evidence for a different reason, the claim that the Senate lacks jurisdiction over a president who has already left office. Most constitutional scholars say that it must have that jurisdiction, in order to hold a president accountable for offenses he commits in his final days in office and to bar him from seeking office again. McConnell is hardly the right person to raise this objection anyway, since he was the one who insisted on scheduling the trial for after the Inauguration in the first place. This is not McConnell’s first act of Machiavellian duplicity. He was also the one who insisted that an Obama Supreme Court appointment could not be considered in a president’s final year in office, but a Trump appointment could be considered in his final few weeks in office.

The real reason for acquittal has nothing to do with legal technicalities, and everything to do with the power of the pro-Trump faction in today’s Republican Party. Most Republican Senators could not bring themselves to convict him, no matter how egregious his conduct. For months Trump waged a campaign to convince his followers that only fraud could prevent his reelection, despite the fact that his approval rating had never reached 50% in four years. He actually convinced a majority of Republicans that he did win, without presenting any significant evidence of fraud. When he exhausted his legal means of contesting the election, he turned to illegal means, such as pressuring state officials to find him additional votes and pushing Vice President Pence to exceed his constitutional authority by refusing to accept the state results. Then Trump called his forces to the Capitol, not to stand on the periphery of the Capitol grounds to chant or pray while the votes were counted, but to “fight like hell” to “stop the steal.” And while the Capitol was being invaded, he not only refused to do anything to stop it, but poured fuel on the fire by tweeting that “Mike Pence didn’t have the courage to do what should have been done to protect our country and our Constitution.” How could any Senator fail to see this as inciting an insurrection? McConnell himself said, “Trump’s actions preceded the riot for disgraceful, disgraceful dereliction of duty. There’s no question that President Trump is practically and morally responsible for provoking the events of the day.”

What I have been arguing, especially in my last post, is that Trumpism is not just an aberration in Republican politics. It is the culmination of a disturbing transformation that has been going on for some time. One way to describe it is to say that the party has been transforming itself from the party of limited government to the party of hostility to government. The first is a healthy aspect of a two-party democracy. The second is a danger to democracy.

In America, free-market capitalism and democratic government grew up together and still need each other. Capitalism has been an engine of economic growth, but democracy has constrained its most inegalitarian tendencies. Unregulated capitalism allows the accumulation of vast wealth and power, which are too easily used to the detriment of workers and consumers. From time to time, democratic reforms such as antitrust laws and worker protections are enacted to keep the playing field reasonably level. While Republicans defend free-market capitalism against the threat of state socialism, Democrats defend democracy against the threat of plutocracy, the rule by a wealthy ownership class.

In this context, the presidency of Donald Trump, the authoritarian billionaire, has turned out to be dangerous to our democratic institutions. He has undermined respect not only for our election process, but for Congress, the legal system, federal agencies, the intelligence community, journalism and science. But his peculiar combination of plutocracy and populism has been too tempting for Republicans to resist. How can a plutocrat be a populist? Well, by co-opting a large segment of the working class who used to vote Democratic. By dividing the electorate along racial, ethnic and religious lines so that they vote their cultural identities and privileges instead of their economic interests. By blaming economic distress on foreigners, immigrants and minorities and trying to wall the country off from the world through border walls and high tariffs. By denying and ignoring real problems like climate change, the pandemic, the threat of technological change to existing jobs, and gross economic inequality. And by characterizing reasonable reforms as socialist threats to liberty.

Republicans were already pursuing such strategies before Trump took them to an extreme. He joined them in proposing tax cuts that were a huge gift to corporations and the wealthy, and that deprived government of revenue it needs to address pressing problems like the pandemic. Aside from that, his legislative agenda was mostly negative, opposing reforms such as Obamacare and efforts to combat climate change.

The debate over the Affordable Care Act is an excellent example of the coalescence of Republican and Trumpian interests. As Paul Krugman points out in Arguing with Zombies, it was actually a moderate measure that relied mainly on the private insurance market, as opposed to the single-payer systems of many other wealthy democracies. It required insurers to accept people with pre-existent conditions, but it also required healthy people to carry insurance. (Otherwise, insurers might have to raise premiums sky high as they insured the people with the greatest claims.) Then it subsidized premiums for low-income consumers and called on states to expand Medicaid for the poor. Krugman says that “Republicans hated Obamacare not because they expected it to fail, but because they feared that it would succeed, and thereby demonstrate that government actually can do things to make people’s lives better.” They never came up with a more conservative way of covering everyone, so they resorted to a campaign of deception, calling the ACA a government takeover of medical care and claiming that government “death panels” were going to decide who lived and who died. Trump then took the deception to a higher level. He claimed that he had his own plan to cover preexisting conditions at much lower cost, and that he would present it in a few weeks. He was still saying that four years later.

The Trump presidency has suited a Republican Party that prefers obstruction to governance and deception to truth. Krugman says that it no longer contributes very much to democratic policy debate, which requires both sides to acknowledge demonstrable facts and seek solutions in good faith. Supported by right-wing media propaganda campaigns, Republicans have created a monster within their own base, a mob of misinformed anti-government extremists who now pose a threat to democracy. Republican leaders like McConnell might prefer not to live with them, but they cannot seem to live without them either. What remains to be seen is whether the pro-Trump majority and the anti-Trump minority can live with each other within the same political party, or if that party comes apart at the seams.

Two Attacks on Democracy

January 8, 2021

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On January 6, 2021, the United States experienced two serious attacks on its democratic institutions. The first was an unruly mob of Trump supporters, invited and encouraged by the President himself, who stormed the Capitol to disrupt the counting of electoral votes in the presidential election. With remarkably feeble resistance from federal authorities, they smashed windows and doors, injured scores of police officers, and vandalized offices. They succeeded in interrupting Congressional proceedings for six hours, while senators and representatives had to hide out in a secure location.

The second attack was in many ways even more troubling, since it was carried out by the people’s own elected representatives. Seven Republican senators and a solid majority of Republican House members voted to reject the electoral votes of Arizona and Pennsylvania. They had intended to do the same for four other battleground states, but after the day’s ordeal, few members had the time or the stomach for it. The states whose voters were to be disenfranchised were not selected because their elections were demonstrably improper. The sixty lawsuits that alleged such improprieties were so baseless that courts all over the country quickly rejected them, including the many courts run by judges appointed by Trump himself. No, they were selected because they were states that Trump needed to win and most hoped to win. For Trump and his supporters, his loss itself was enough evidence that something had gone wrong.

The party of Trump will forever be associated with these attacks on democracy. But how had the Grand Old Party fallen so far?

In 2012, The Romney-Ryan ticket ran mainly on “trickle-down economics” and lost. In 2016, Donald Trump ran mainly on white Christian nationalism and won. He appealed primarily to the status anxieties of white working-class men who have been losing ground both economically and culturally. Their position in the rapidly changing economy is precarious, to be sure. Yet Republican economic policies still tend to favor the wealthy, which was a liability for Romney and Ryan. In order to peel off working-class voters from the Democrats, Republicans have come to rely on the wedge issues of race, religion and gender. In 2016, Trump won rust-belt states like Michigan with slim margins, but he won every state in the former Confederacy and the Bible Belt except Virginia by piling up huge margins among Southern white men. Then Congressional Republicans could proceed with their fiscal agenda, passing an unpopular tax cut favoring corporations and the wealthy, and trying to weaken or destroy the increasingly popular Affordable Care Act.

Although Trumpism did not take center stage until 2016, it hardly came out of nowhere. The truth is that Republicans have been flirting with white supremacy and right-wing authoritarianism for a long time. The G.O.P. has been making such appeals ever since William F. Buckley’s 1957 National Review editorial favored white rule over majority rule (because whites “live by civilized standards”); and since presidential candidate Barry Goldwater opposed the Civil Rights Act of 1964; and Richard Nixon adopted the “Southern strategy; and Ronald Reagan made “welfare queens” the poster child for wasteful government spending; and George H.W. Bush made Willie Horton the face of urban crime; and Republican-appointed Supreme Court justices gutted the Voting Rights Act, paving the way for states to enact new voting restrictions designed to suppress the black vote. It is a little late now for Republicans to disclaim responsibility for Trump and his angry white mob, determined to take back what they call their country.

The Congressional Republicans who voted to overturn the 2020 election claim the right of Republicans to rule, not because they have earned it by enacting policies helpful to the majority of Americans, but because they represent the “right” kind of people—white, Christian, and increasingly far right. If the party is to redeem itself, it won’t be enough to deplore violence, as, of course, all parties should. The party will need to reawaken its democratic soul.

Despite my frustration with today’s Republican Party, I do believe in the two-party system. I think that both conservatives and progressives have a contribution to make to open and honest debates over policy, such as the debate over the future of jobs in the knowledge economy. Each party can act as a check to curb the worst proposals of the other. But these debates have to be premised on a mutual commitment to democratic principles and practices. I have no illusion that racism, sexism, authoritarianism or religious intolerance will disappear anytime soon. But may they be confined to small fringe parties, closely watched by democratic authorities, while the major parties set a higher standard. What we saw this week was not worthy of the party of Lincoln.

Biden Win Solid, Not Spectacular

November 17, 2020

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My last post started with the FiveThirtyEight projection of a big win for Joe Biden, with 53% of the popular vote and 342 electoral votes. His actual totals were 50.9% of the popular vote and 306 electoral votes. This was still better than the win that Trump declared a “landslide” in 2016, since Biden not only matched Trump’s electoral vote total, but also won the popular vote that Trump has now lost twice. Biden won it by 5.6 million votes, twice as many as Hillary Clinton’s margin of 2.8 million.

Neither of the possible outcomes I previously described actually came to pass. Although Biden won five of the eight swing states I listed, he did not score a knockout blow on election night by winning one that Trump needed. The delay in counting mail-in ballots kept the race fairly close for a couple more days. The other scenario—that Trump could eke out a victory by means of some form of voter suppression—was, thankfully, averted. Biden won too many states by solid margins to be denied the victory. Considering the difficulties of voting during a pandemic, the continued threat of foreign interference, the divisions within the country, and the threats from one candidate to reject the results if he lost, the election itself went remarkably smoothly.

President-elect Biden’s victory, although solid, was not overwhelming enough to give him very much of a mandate to govern. The composition of the Senate is not entirely determined, but it has a good chance of remaining in Republican hands. I continue to be amazed that almost half the electorate voted for an incumbent who so thoroughly demonstrated his unfitness for the office. But as the Washington Post reported, Biden won the cities that have been thriving in the new economy, while Trump won the places that have been falling behind. Trump has tapped into the frustrations of many less-educated voters, but unfortunately, he’s done it less by advancing their interests as a class than by promoting traditional privileges of white supremacy, patriarchy and evangelical Christianity. Meanwhile, he has continued the standard Republican economic policies of tax cuts mainly for corporations and the wealthy and benefit cuts for the less well off.

That would seem to offer an opening for a president who actually cares about the working class. Biden should propose some measures that could unite working families across the board, like aid for early childhood education or vocational training opportunities, and then vigorously defend them. Senate Republicans can stonewall him, as they did President Obama, but hopefully not without political cost. Republicanism under Trump has become something of a con—see former Republican consultant Stuart Stevens’ book It Was All a Lie—but maybe the public is starting to want something more authentic.