It's the Economy, Stupid

​One of the paradoxes of the last decade or so is that, while the economy has done quite well by many measures, more and more people profess to believe that it is doing poorly. This paradox is evident in polls: when people are asked how well they think the national economy is doing, they give it a low rating, even as they claim their personal situation is doing well. In 2024, CNN reported that just 16% rated the economy as "good" or "excellent," but three times as many—45%—said their personal finances were "good" or "excellent."

​This phenomenon was evident in the last election. The unemployment rate was at near-historic lows, wages were on the rise, employers were begging for workers, and retail sales were robust. Yet, the majority of voters felt that the economy was not in good shape, were not optimistic about the future, gave the administration in power poor marks, and voted for a disgraced convicted felon for president. What causes this paradox?

A significant driver is likely the restructuring of the economy as we have known it. While wealthy people have always had undue influence on government, reaped the majority of benefits from government programs and tax policies, and often played significant roles in policy development, the new role of wealth and power in a laissez-faire capitalist system has created a level of uncertainty and anxiety that is unprecedented—at least since the Great Depression. Billionaires and their corporations have created virtual monopolies that allow them to drive down wages and benefits to increase profits and stockholder returns. But more importantly, they have erased any sense of job security.

The gig economy did not arise because people were looking for something to occupy their weekends. It arose because many people were having a hard time making ends meet with a traditional 40-hour a week job. Even if they could make ends meet, they did not have confidence that the job would continue to be there for them. Monopolistic corporations were delivering billions of dollars in wealth to their owners, in significant part by treating workers as a replaceable commodity—something that could be shed or acquired on a short-term basis to maximize revenue and profit. Amazon leads with this approach, where, by limiting wage increases and upward mobility, and imposing punishing performance metrics, turnover rates of 150% annually are the norm. The situation has been exacerbated and accelerated since the economic meltdown of 2008. The public saw Wall Street firms, banks, and large corporations get bailed out using their tax dollars, while executives paid themselves hefty bonuses. They also noticed that not a single person was charged with a crime or went to jail, despite wiping out billions of dollars in pension funds and savings.

The wealth class absorbed this lesson quickly, realizing they would be held harmless for misdeeds, and that government funds could increasingly be channeled to enhance wealth, privilege, and secure monopolistic positions. This is perhaps most glaringly obvious in the case of the wealthiest man in the world, who invested $290 million to buy the presidency and begin dismantling those parts of the government that regulate and oversee his—and other businesses—while funneling government contracts and work to the companies of he and his friends. Of course, he is also helping drive trillions in tax cuts to continue the looting of the US. Treasury.

​The key for the wealthy and powerful to accomplish these things has always been scapegoating—blaming the problems of workers, the lack of job security, and the vanishing benefits and union protections on others, such as immigrants, minorities, DEI programs, and anything else that will deflect blame or responsibility from them. In the old Soviet Union, the saying used to be, "They pretend to tell us the truth, and we pretend to believe them." In America today, they don't even pretend to tell us the truth, yet more and more people believe whatever they are told.