Book Reviews, Charles, Economics, Political Discussion & Analysis, Political Economy, Reaction
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Dream Hoarders: How the American Upper Middle Class Is Leaving Everyone Else in the Dust, Why That Is a Problem, and What to Do About It (Richard V. Reeves)

This isn’t a great book, but it’s a starting point for discussions that are worth having.  Richard Reeves gently flogs his own class for their sins, an act he thinks is very daring, though he uses a thin, silken cord and doesn’t put any muscle into it.  The upper middle class, he says, is pulling up the bridge to the Castle of Success, protecting its own sons and daughters from the dragons outside, at the expense of the peasants milling about on the other side of the moat.  He thinks this is bad, although he is confused as to exactly why that should be, since it seems “unfair,” but he can’t say what that is with any precision, and, after all, isn’t personal choice the most important thing of all?  So this book mostly goes nowhere, but it can tickle the mind into some genuine thought.

Reeves focuses on the upper middle class (the “UMC”), which he defines as households in the top 20% of income, making more than $112,000.  In practice the bulk of this class is the “professional-managerial” elite (a term developed and examined in Joan William’s White Working Class, which focuses on those lower down the class scale than the UMC).  This elite has “hoarded,” through a variety of devices, the ability for the next generation to succeed, defined as reaching the top quintile of the income distribution.  The truly rich, the 1%, are excluded from this analysis—they are relevant, certainly, but they are different from you and me (although Reeves is insightful enough to note that, mostly, “The top 1 percent is not ‘them’—it’s us [the UMC], having a good year.”).  Thus, this book isn’t really directed at me—I’m not in the UMC.  But I used to be, for most of my life (even if now my goal is to scrabble into the top .01%, so that I am wholly outside Reeves’s analysis, and don’t have to be lashed by his silken whip).

As with most magazine articles padded out to books, Reeves lays out his arguments pretty clearly, but does not engage in a lot of point-counterpoint.  Reeves first demonstrates how the UMC is separating itself from the bottom 80%.  It has more money (by definition, given the framework used).  This is reinforced by assortative mating and by both parents earning high incomes (it is only among the permanent portion of the 1% that the wife not earning income is a class marker, though Reeves doesn’t note that difference).  The UMC don’t smoke; they don’t get fat; they therefore lead healthier, wealthier lives.  UMC parents don’t get knocked up before they intend to and they focus obsessively on their children.  All this means that their children are advantaged from birth, because the typical child “is raised in a stable home by well-educated, married parents, lives in a great neighborhood, and attends the area’s best schools.”  These effects multiply themselves over the generations, which is reinforced by IQ heritability (a topic Reeves mentions in passing, then recoils like he touched a hot stove).  The UMC further sets itself physically apart by residential sorting and segregation.  The result of all this is that their average human capital is higher than for the rest of American society, and that human capital stays within the UMC, since there is little movement into, and out of, the UMC.

So far, these are all the results of choices made by the UMC, bourgeois choices, to be exact, and Reeves finds it difficult to criticize choices, though every so often he comes close to making the claim that any help to one’s children is immoral because life is a zero-sum game, and if you help your children, you are pushing other children down.  But the UMC then supercharges the results of their choices by getting the government to pour some sugar on them.  Lots of sugar.  Mortgage interest deductions; residential zoning that increases home values and ensures access to good schooling; 529 plans; and much more.  In effect, by the time college rolls around, the children of the UMC have been given a 200-meter head start in the 400-meter dash.  Then, piled on top of these hoarded advantages, the UMC is much more able, due to money, contacts, and the mere familiarity that makes it possible to navigate the system, to send their children to the colleges that are most selective, and which act as gatekeepers to the types of jobs that guarantee their children their own spot in the UMC.  (Reeves only motions at the reality that it is not education that is being obtained, but a filtering credential, though it’s true the difference is not important to his point.)  The UMC also uses other forms of wire-pulling to benefit their offspring.  Then, as their children waft in the stratosphere of the social hierarchy as they pass through college, parents in the UMC obtain for their children plum internships, using contacts not available to the non-UMC, and which are often unpaid, and thus not available to families who can’t afford that, which lead to employment in the professional-management class, continuing the cycle.

What exercises Reeves most of all is legacy admissions to college, which he practically howls about, although it seems like something with a relatively small impact relative to the other causes of hoarding he outlines.  He decries all legacies as “morally wrong” and “unfair,” an offense to what would apparently be fair, an outcome decided by objective measurements of merit.  Reeves is upset that no data is available on legacy admissions, but doesn’t know, or won’t admit, the real reason colleges don’t release data on admissions, legacy or otherwise.  It’s because all selective colleges discriminate against Asians and engage in affirmative action for favored minorities to a degree most people would find “unfair” (Harvard is currently in the process of losing a lawsuit against it for its treatment of Asians).  For Reeves, legacy admissions are the quintessential opposite of merit competition on a level playing field, which is his touchstone, and have generation-spanning ill effects (though their beneficiaries don’t think it’s an ill effect, and since it’s a zero-sum game, you’d have to show some net societal loss to prove an ill effect, something Reeves makes no effort to do—he just repeats his mantra of “fairness,” lack of which is not itself obviously an ill effect).

The net result is that the UMC uses all these advantages to ensure that others don’t have equal opportunity.  Thus, who is in the UMC, stays in the UMC (and, like Fight Club, doesn’t talk about UMC, because they don’t need to, and that might break the spell).  “Others” is everyone else—not just groups traditionally viewed as disadvantaged, but a much broader group of people who, relatively speaking, are not only poor, and therefore unable to afford their children the paid-for advantages that permit the UMC to maintain their inter-generational ascendancy, but who also lack the social capital that permits the UMC to surf the waters of social dominance.  But “circumstances” is a broad word.  It covers both material lacks, mental gaps, and cultural failures.  Reeves adduces J. D. Vance, of Hillbilly Elegy fame, as a rare example of someone who overcame the self-granted advantages of the UMC so he could join the UMC.  He misses, or ignores, Vance’s own main point—that the problem is his culture, of lower class Appalachian whites, which is defective, and which prevents the rise of its members totally outside the hoarding of advantages by the UMC.  This is basically Charles Murray’s point in Coming Apart, too, and Reeves overlooks it, even though he cites Murray extensively (along with Robert Putnam’s Our Kids).  While hoarding doubtless reinforces the UMC’s position, it is far from clear that large sections of America would take advantage of the end of the UMC’s hoarding if it happened.  That is, it is pretty obvious, though Reeves ignores it, that the inability to compete with the UMC is often, or even primarily, driven by inferior culture—thus making America merely a microcosm of the world as a whole, where, for the most part, those farther down the scale are down the scale because their cultures dictate that result.

In any case, what Reeves wants is for people not in the UMC to join the UMC, in large numbers.  Reeves notes that mathematically, if all the children of the UMC stay in the UMC, nobody not in the UMC will join the UMC.  (That’s not strictly true—it depends on the relative fertility of social classes, a topic Reeves doesn’t address, but the basic point is accurate.)  No migration between classes is a lack of “relative mobility.”  Almost all the statistics in this book rely on quintile analysis compared over time and over different groups.  This is an easy-to-grasp and reasonable method of communicating his points.  The problem is that quintiles are always relative—so, in nearly all instances, if the income of every quintile increased by a factor of ten, the bar graphs would look the same.  In other words, Reeves ignores “absolute mobility.”  Of course, that’s just the usual argument about whether if my income doubles, and yours quadruples, I have any ground for complaint.  Reeves says yes—what matters is that those not in the top 20% have a decent chance of rising to that group.  Which is defensible, if not self-evident.

What Reeves is upset about is clear enough.  Why he thinks he has any ground to be upset is less clear.  He does not complain that society as a whole performs worse on objective measures—say GDP per capita—as a result of the UMC dominating.  Rather, he over and over again trills that this is a “moral” problem, one of “fairness.”  But he never tells us why that is, or why the UMC should care about his claim, since after all, all good liberals know that morals are merely something people in flyover country use to hide their bigotry.  Reading the tea leaves, including multiple favorable references to John Rawls, the Zardoz of modern liberals, it seems that for Reeves, fairness demands that each person not receive any benefits not of his own making.  We must create our own veil of ignorance, and place our children behind it.  This is not self-contradictory, and certainly America has long paid lip service to the idea that each person can make his own way, but why it is a moral imperative that children receive nothing more than food from their parents is never demonstrated, in any way at all, nor has it ever been a core American value, or a value in any other society (because it goes against the grain of human nature).  And Reeves struggles with his own framework, since he clearly values emancipation and liberty as maximal values (like all good liberals), and can’t reconcile that with the demands of fairness—he can’t imagine actually restricting personal choice, even though personal choice creates all the problems he identifies.  When your political class, i.e., liberals like Reeves, has spent the past fifty years destroying the idea that anyone has any duty to others, along with the idea that there is such a thing is virtue, you should not be heard to complain when your own class takes that to heart (and you should admit that the parade of horrors Charles Murray narrates about the lower classes is your fault).

Really, what Reeves exemplifies is what Jonathan Haidt calls “WEIRD morality.”  He has a moral scheme he thinks is universal but which is really an isolated exception in humanity, and not one that is superior or the coming thing.  In that moral scheme, confined for the most part to wealthy Westerners, fairness is the highest moral criterion, and harm to others the only moral bad.  In most moral schemes, fairness is subordinated to other considerations, including loyalty, authority, and sanctity, and harm to others is not the only moral bad.  Reeves, however, firmly believes in Mill’s harm principle—but he can’t find any actual harm here, only relative immobility, so he glosses over his philosophical conundrum.  Along related lines, the book is generally marred somewhat by Reeves being unable to suppress other liberal tics.  He demands in passing that the 1% pay more taxes, “much more,” although it is irrelevant to both his arguments and solutions.  He claims with a straight face that examples of increasing meritocracy are that the United States has “legalized same-sex marriage and opened up all military jobs to women,” seemingly oblivious that the former isn’t exactly a question of competitive merit and the latter is an example of the exact opposite of merit, since all military standards have been slashed and are different for men and women, in order to be able to admit women as an ideological imperative.  Most of these liberal twitches seem to be inserted into the book to insulate Reeves from the UMC ostracizing him; he thinks he is a big risk-taker for criticizing his own class, and maybe he is—after all, the liberal UMC is notoriously intolerant of and bigoted towards political difference, and never more so than in the current age, though my bet is that this will get worse before it gets better.

At the end, Reeves offers some tentative ideas for solutions.  The first is to “reduce unintended pregnancies through better contraception,” at which the reader chuckles, first at the idea that lack of contraception and education about it is why the lower classes have children out of wedlock, and then again at Reeves’s unwillingness to even suggest that we school the lower classes to adhere to bourgeois values such as not having children out of wedlock, which values he has already identified, repeatedly, as the most critical element of the ongoing success of the UMC.  (You may remember that Amy Wax, a law professor at Penn, got in trouble last fall for suggesting that bourgeois values led to success in life, even though that’s as true as that water will wet us.)  Another is to “increase home visiting to improve parenting,” which might, I suppose, be beneficial to mothers of infants, but is not going to change the inferior cultures that Reeves identifies as the problem for the types of people who need home visits.  His third idea is to get better teachers to teach children who are not in the UMC, through the device of rewards—but nowhere does he note that the core problem with getting good teaching is unionized teachers who reject categorization on merit, and who ensure that incompetent teachers linger for decades to haunt the lower classes.  Then he talks about funding college, not through free college (which he correctly points out would mean mostly “free for the UMC”), but by tying loans to repayment based on income.  He doesn’t help himself by citing Jeb Bush, noted has-been, but more to the point, repayment based on income creates perverse incentives, such as encouraging people to get degrees in social capital-destroying areas like Women’s Studies and Latino Studies (though even worse is the currently existing system, which forgives loans for graduates who “work” in parasitic occupations in the government or so-called public service, that is, for left-wing pressure groups).  On the other hand, he does endorse cutting back the tax benefits to large college endowments, something done last year (after the publication of this book) by the Republicans (thanks, Trump!)  And he says 529 plans should be eliminated, since they almost exclusively benefit the UMC (though he, like most liberals, treats all our money as belonging to the government, and any allowing us to keep it as an unmerited grace that Uncle Sam should feel free to withdraw at any time).  Finally, he suggests ending “exclusionary zoning,” by which he means housing developments for not-rich people should not be prevented by zoning; ending legacy admissions to college; and opening up internships.

I actually agree in large part with Reeves.  While his thinking isn’t deep, for the most part it’s not wrong on the substance.  There is a deeper question, though, which is whether we should care if the UMC establishes itself as a permanent aristocracy.  What Reeves describes is today’s American aristocracy—the people who matter, who are relevant, who set the direction of the country.  Of course, every society has always had an aristocracy—for proof of this you only have to know anything at all about Communism, which claimed to have no class distinctions, and instead inevitably had extremely sharp distinctions, between the nomenklatura and everyone else.  Yes, Americans viscerally reject aristocracy, but they’ve still always had one, even if it disavows the label.  True, there are skeins of aristocracy, not just one monolithic aristocracy (and, earlier in American history, regional aristocracies), but, viewed broadly, there is always an aristocracy.  So, why should we care if a new aristocracy has established itself?

It is not because the UMC aristocracy looks out for its own interests, prime among which is ensuring the future of their children, including their enrollment into the aristocracy.  That itself doesn’t make today’s UMC aristocracy any different from past aristocracies, even though this self-interest and self-perpetuation is Reeves’s main complaint.  But I can think of three reasons why this aristocracy is less desirable than, and qualitatively different from, any prior American aristocracy.  First, it is a parasitical, rather than productive, class.  In the past, the aristocracy was composed primarily of successful businessmen, with a smattering of artists and other culturally significant people, along with outriders such as prominent military men and politicians.  Today, it is essentially a homogenous professional-managerial elite, who destroy value (many lawyers and most government professionals, along with many teachers and professors, and the vast majority of the college administrators), are purely transactions costs (the rest of the lawyers and the accountants, although in fairness they don’t create the costs), or add strictly marginal and only economic value (the rest of the teachers, all the managers, and so forth). None of them individually add any significant economic value, and none add cultural value (though today’s artists and authors mostly don’t either, but that’s another topic).  Another way of saying that is that every generation of this aristocracy lacks merit—and they never had any, they just fell , with the help of the expansion of government, into the vacuum created by the destruction of the mid-twentieth-century aristocracy.  They’re a barnacle, not a beacon.

Second, and related, the UMC is the first American aristocracy to reject the idea that it has any obligations or duties to the rest of America.  As traditionally viewed, the duties of the aristocracy included serving communitarian goals that enhance societal flourishing, including engaging in poorly remunerated true public service such as serving in the military (working for the government in a non-military capacity is not public service, it is public parasitism), as well as working for government policies that serve the common good.  Not this UMC—they serve nobody but themselves, and they push policies destructive of the common good but good for them, such as unrestricted immigration and globalization.  Robert Gould Shaw rolls over in the grave he shares with his men.

It appears to me, though this is hard to measure, that this aristocracy also behaves much more monolithically than any prior American aristocracy.  It is not that they agree politically—liberals and conservatives can both be found in quantity in the UMC, though most are social liberals.  But they act in lockstep to benefit their class—again, this is much of Reeves’s complaint.  And, related, they are the very essence of José Ortega y Gasset’s “masses,” unwilling to pursue, and uninterested in, excellence.  Finally, I think that the UMC is mostly morally corrupt and existentially incompetent, filled with decaying Baby Boomers and their even more worthless offspring, but that is a longer topic than can be covered here.

Third, and this is the gravamen of Reeve’s complaint, there is almost zero fresh entry into the aristocracy.  It is not a question of fairness, though, as Reeves would have it; rather, it is a question of social comity.  Where those lacking merit and providing nothing to the country hold the rest down, the masses become unhappy.  When Horatio Alger was a cultural touchstone (even if the possibilities were exaggerated), a smart young man on the make could hope to end up in the aristocracy, if he worked hard and things broke his way.  Now he’s unlikely to even know he’s a smart young man.  This is true for the reasons identified by Reeves, such as his parents not being able to give him certain advantages, and not even knowing about certain opportunities.  And even if he does realize he’s a smart young man, the channels that helped raise others into the aristocracy in the past have been destroyed.  Traditionally, in every society, those channels have been those in authority singling out the best among the non-aristocracy and helping them rise.  In the past, teachers, clergymen, and other adults would raise promising children out of the crowd.  Not anymore.  Now that’s either forgotten, in that the mere existence of superior merit or excellence is denied, or forbidden, in that those in authority are required to instead demand “diversity and inclusion,” which means focusing on certain groups defined by preferred immutable characteristics and insisting that all their members be benefited and raised equally, by being given unearned benefits without reference to their personal merit (at the same time denying any favorable treatment to all those with disfavored immutable characteristics), all under the lying guise of ending supposed oppression.  The result is essentially zero mobility, so this aristocracy is sclerotic, and effectively creates and continuously exacerbates pernicious divisions.

Reeves’s solutions are silly, but he’s not wrong that there’s a problem.  Perhaps the Fight Club reference is apt—smashing and replacing the aristocracy may be the only reasonable choice.  Perhaps merely a decimation, pour encourager les autres.  Maybe it will all fix itself, when Bernie Sanders sweeps to power, carried on a nursing home bed by a mob chanting “Power to the people!”  Beats me, but my guess is that the system we have can’t go on forever.

11 Comments

  1. Charles,

    Thanks for the review. Sounds like a lot of the same material covered by Matthew Stewart’s (of The Management Myth fame) in his recent cover story “The 9.9% is the New American Aristocracy” https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2018/06/the-birth-of-a-new-american-aristocracy/559130/
    Stewart’s article wasn’t great, but it may be a good companion read.

    To me it appears that the big problem with our new aristocracy is that while digging the moat around their social class they are singing a song about their own superior merit. The myth of the meritocracy allows them to believe that they are in their positions due to their aptitude (aptitude for aptitude, as Walter Kirn said) not entrenched and subsidized privilege, though, if they are white, they may mumble bromides about their privilege when required. There is no noblese oblige, they don’t even recognize that their lives are paradigms of bourgeois values. Much less that they should encourage the lower classes to emulate those values, or at least stop producing for them extremely pernicious entertainment and cheap self-control testing goods. Also, assortive mating has gotten out of leading to less connection and affiliation with people outside of the PME.

    BTW, Amy Wax was recently on the First Things podcast and it was a pretty good interview.

    • Charles says

      I did read Stewart’s article–actually, it was that that made me pull this book off my Amazon wish list, order it, and write the review. Also Stewart’s article that I cribbed the aristocracy concept from. I went back and re-read it; my original plan was to parse that article in the review, but it didn’t say anything additional, so I figured I’d keep it shorter. And yes; the lack of noblesse oblige at the same time that they help destroy the lower classes is the problem (again, that’s really Charles Murray’s point in Coming Apart).

      I’ll check out the Wax interview! Though I’m not sure there’s much to add there–we can pile up examples of such treatment indefinitely, and we can listen to the details, but really, the question is, what are we going to do about it? We already know what the problem is; examining more manifestations, beyond a certain point, doesn’t add much. This is not a rational discussion, where if we lay out the treatment of people like Amy Wax, those hounding her will do anything differently, or think in any way differently. The question is merely how to force them to act differently, and to permanently break them so they cannot act that way in the future.

  2. Marcus says

    Twas ever thus: people with money will enact strategies so their progeny necessarily inherit benefits which money can assure. The snowball effect goes on throughout subsequent generations, which is the overall plan.

    To paraphrase a famous conversation, “The very rich are different from you and me in that they have more money.” Wealth grants access to a life that carries reduced risk and provides more opportunities from which to choose. This is why the average punter puts so much importance on making and keeping large amounts of money, usually through salary.

    I saw this three decades ago when I graduated from a private university. The blue-collar poor kids from the backwater Midwestern towns spent 45 months glaring, with uninterrupted class anxiety, at the wealthy students who sped up to campus in new sports cars (High School graduation gifts), who also went sailing in their father’s yacht all of June, July and half of August instead of getting a summer job.

    Many of these same poor and irritated blue collar college students went on to graduate school, married a fellow graduate student and each eventually became high-net worth professionals. Within 6 years of grad school they started families where their own children are now the coddled Freshmen racking up no student loans who spent High School summers at horse ranches or on golf courses instead of working. Funny how things work out.

    What we are presently seeing is class anxiety ‘on steroids’ due to social media’s enhanced visibility coupled with the constant axe-grinding of those whose lives are built around keeping score.

    • Charles says

      All true. I had no money in college, but went to a big state school, and wasn’t really exposed to that–maybe because the school was different, or maybe because of my social circles. And I agree ’twas ever thus. But the key point is whether a given aristocracy is performing its social role in the overall picture, and survey says–no.

      • Marcus says

        My opinion is that both you and Reeves are looking too far down the class scale and the UMC of the book and (also in your review) is, the Lower Middle Class with Too Much Money (LMCwTMM). The UMC mentioned is in no way the prevailing aristocracy of current American society nor are they wealthy but rather ‘salary rich’.

        In my experience the line of separation is that the True Middle Class (TMC) actual owns something; a business, for example (e.g. law firm, medical clinic, restaurant, sporting goods shop, etc). This, to me, is the hard line between the vast lower socio-economic classes and those above the TMC line. The TMC does not staff businesses (i.e. executive management), they own them and their awareness and interests lie therein. Class is a stratification index based on money, power, prestige, information, and occupation; money and status are merely by product of class, not causes.

        The Establishment Class (Rockefeller, Vanderbilt, Mellon, et al.) and True Middle Classes manage affairs, in part because they have tangible interests to manage. The TMC was raised with and is aware of patterns and relationships, institutional and otherwise, allowing them a high degree of independence and control over their own lives. The Upper Middle Class described above doesn’t appear to have this — at all.

        Simply because one and one’s spouse make $155k annually, have one child, and live in Benton Harbor, Michigan does not make one Upper Middle Class. You may have truckloads of money after the bills are paid but there’s a huge difference in social awareness than someone in their late 30s living in Westchester County who owns an investment firm, who graduated the best schools, serve on boards for major universities and global businesses, and who was asked to join all of the top social/ country/ yacht clubs. There lies the inferred responsibility to others beyond one’s immediate social sphere.

        Once you get up to the nose-bleed classes you see a great amount of noblesse oblige because that’s been a family philosophy for generations. In the 1960s Nelson Rockefeller estimated $100K annual income would be considered Middle Class, which is about $810K today. The $112K of the UMC mentioned above covers the annual cost of the hired servants for these folks. Jackie Onassis kept a household staff of 11 in her Upper East Side home from the late 1970s until her death in the mid 90s, and she technically married in to the American aristocracy.

        The Upper Middle Class’s (UMC) experience of ‘wealth’ is not that of the Establishment or TMC wealthy. And it is the Establishment Wealthy and the TMC who continue to channel their wealth into the streams of social responsibility which they always have. So from what I’ve witnessed over five generations, the survey says yes, ’twas ever thus.

        • Charles says

          Yes, I agree that definitions are problematic, and that the top 20% by income is not necessarily the aristocracy. A more precise definition would revolve around Williams’s professional-managerial elite, I think, or the concept of the “clerisy” or “Cathedral.” But I disagree that the TMC, as you define it, is in any way the aristocracy. Such people have no influence and are deliberately shunned and marginalized by today’s aristocracy, except if they are participants (such as managers of a few elite coastal law firms, who are not really TMC at all, of course). That is, “independence and control over their own lives” has little or nothing to do with the definition of aristocracy. Past aristocracies did have that characteristic, but that is mostly happenstance. The aristocracy is rather always those who dictate taste and what is culturally and politically acceptable among any person wishing to have any influence over broader society, and as a result wield significant power over the direction of society. Today that is not people who are independent, but for the most part people who control the purse strings of government–that is, who are independent because they can acquire limitless money for themselves at the point of a gun, money resulting from value created by others, while they create nothing of value at all. The only business owners in this category are crony capitalists, who bear only the most superficial resemblance to real businesspeople.

          I also disagree that the very rich have any nobelesse oblige, unless by that you mean spending all their money to destroy the country through forcibly implementing ultra-progressive social policies on the deplorables. They all support abortion (Buffett); gun control (Bloomberg); and anything Left (Steyer), just to give a few examples. And it’s not like the Kochs are showing noblesse oblige by spending their money on politics, either. None of this is “social responsibility” in any meaningful sense. Real social responsibility is a two-way street, in which one class admits that its betters should guide them, and their betters do not take advantage of their position, or steal from the other classes. Pushing left-wing policies is destructive, and the antithesis of any real social responsibility–and in any case, is not a two-way street.

  3. Thanks Charles – I read a short review of Dream Hoarders last summer and it sounded interesting. But now I’m glad I didn’t plow through it!

    I find it sad and amusing to note that the term “aristocracy” came to us from the Greek aristokratia: aristos ‘best’ + -kratia ‘power.’ The term originally denoted the government of a state by its best citizens…. a far cry from today’s “aristocracy”.

    I’m not thrilled about the disappearance of of particular paths to the ranks of the aristocracy. But what most troubles me is how the UMC/aristocracy have abandoned their responsibility to fostering shared prosperity – and not by shooting themselves in the foot!

    What I’m talking about has nothing to do with what Reeves might suggest. I’m talking about a UMC that acts ethically (in the Aristotlean sense), that creates things of value to society, and that models proper business and civic behavior. These actions alone would go a long ways towards fostering a society where many citizens would have the opportunity to prosper – not a zero-sum game at all!!!

    You also noted the difference between the UMC of today and the aristocracy of the mid twentieth century, which I agree was much much different. In fact, there was a lot about society during that time which differed markedly from today. Even more important, it was a period of broad, vigorous growth and prosperity (until about 1970).

    But instead, as you said, today we have a selfish, parasitic top 20%.

    Again, it seems to come down to a distressing decline in culture and morality.

    And that topic requires a much more precise and thorough discussion than I care to start here.

    • Charles says

      I’d love an aristocracy like that. I suppose the real problem is how to get from here to there. Of course, there have been many deficient aristocracies throughout history; the Greek city states provided plenty of examples of the inherent tendencies in them. Which is, of course, why divided government seems like a good idea. But if the entire aristocracy won’t keep up it’s end, well, I suppose we’ll have to dissolve it and appoint another!

      • Anonymous Decaf Drinker says

        Charles,

        Sorry that I am a bit late here, but I am especially interested in your discussion (in both your review and comments) of aristocracy. My thesis, which I sent you a while back, analyzes the relationship between aristocracy and democracy, and it is quite relevant to the discussions here. If you decide to read it, or have already read it, I would be interested in any thoughts or feedback you have on it! (Note: the essay is especially relevant to technological democracy, which intersects with some of your other reviews, such as Bad Blood.)

  4. Equality of wealth is, I suppose, a very serious problem in that it has been around for as long as we know and that all attempts to alleviate it have universally failed or made the situation worse. I find that the only sane way of framing the problem isn’t that some people aren’t born with enough and things should be leveled, but rather that the default state for everyone is nothing – zero – and that anyone is born into any wealth at all is a miracle and not a sin.

    • Charles says

      True enough. As far as inherited inequality of wealth, the traditional view is that imposes corresponding obligations. That has certainly gotten lost. As far as acquired inequality of wealth, as long as gotten through honest means available to all with equivalent talents, that acts as a spur to achievement and benefits everyone. As far as inherited inequality of talents, that’s just life, and while there is much to be said for allowing those with talents to develop them through public funding if they don’t have the money, that’s not allowed today, as I say, because it is inherently anti-egalitarian to single out people to be lifted up.

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