The DecodeDC podcast aired a discussion (episode 67) with English economist Richard Reeves of the Brookings Institution who talks about ways to measure the (in)equality of opportunity in America. His study divides the population into slices of 20% each – families who are in the top 20% of earners (about $150,000/year for a family of four) are 1s, the next 20% are 2s and so forth. The research found that if you’re a 1, your children will also be 1s and if you’re a 5, your children will remain in that state as well. Not too counter-intuitive, these days. He then brings up the obvious point that  there are several gaps: Marriage, Education, Neighourhood, and Race, like so:

  • Children raised by  two parents are more likely to move up than children raised by one.
  • Children raised by parents who earn degrees are more likely to move up.
  • Children raised in poor neighbourhoods are more likely to stay in them
  • Non-white children are more likely to remain in their quintiles or slip into lower ones than white children.

What I missed from the podcast clip (but is well-covered in Reeves’ own reporting below) was how these numbers have changed over the last hundred years.

income_inequalityMy guess was that 100 years ago, the numbers were a little better than they are now – mobility of immigrant populations especially was based a lot on making it by the sweat of their labours. However, poor blacks were more likely to remain poor blacks. There was probably a little more mobility in the post-WW1 boom time for non-blacks, but this was probably exaggerated, much as the mobility of the late 90s mini-boom was.

The period I’m most interested in is from 1945-1990, during which time there was a great deal more mobility and a much smaller gap between the richest and the poorest. The gap started to expand again during the Reagan years, but I think the real damage of his policies came after he left office. There were inklings in the Clinton years that things were going to go horribly wrong in the inequality department, but they only hit high gear in the Bush Jr. years.

Reeves goes into much greater detail regarding the history in his essay Horatio Alger: Equality, Opportunity, and the American Dream: ‘In the first half of the 20th century, after the closing of the frontier, the rapid growth of the nation slowed, with the result that both income and wealth gaps widened to European proportions, and the engines of upward mobility stalled.’

Post-WW2, the combination of social mobility programmes like the GI bill, and relatively high rates of taxation at the top of the scale meant that there was a bit more mobility, but that the wealth gap was much smaller.

As noted, the inequality trends returned with the Reagan years, but their trajectory was stunted somewhat by the stronger economy of the Clinton years. Bush Jr.’s tax cuts and financial deregulation (begun in the 90s – some of the fault does go back to Clinton) did in what was left of general upward mobility.

So those are some of the big political issues that affect the gap, but every day we see things that are built to make it bigger. Easy credit is one – possibly non-existent 100 years ago, but everywhere in the US today. (My ex worked in secure card customer service back in the 90s – people who had no business with plastic in their wallets were bankrupting themselves. There has been no effective tightening of those rules in the intervening 20 years either.)

Another one is health insurance. While Obama’s done astounding work making the cost of insurance lower and easier to bear for many, health insurance firms have always been for-profit ventures and this has exploded in the last 25 years or so. A business that raises rates even 10% year on year and predicates itself on denying the service it purports to be selling is not health, but is likely to be very profitable if the service it sells is required. Even if you pay into the system, in states that haven’t implemented ACA, one good accident can bankrupt you. (Combine that with the ever-relaxing rules on gun ownership and the goose that lays the golden eggs just got a dose of fertility drugs.)

Note that big medicine has fought single-payer health in the US for over 100 years. Didn’t think the argument went back that far? Franklin Pierce vetoed a bill calling for federally funded asylums for the blind, deaf, and insane in 1854. Both Theodore and Franklin Roosevelt supported plans for state-funded or federally funded health schemes which the American Medical Association opposed. The AMA and the insurance industry opposed Medicare and Medicaid, but President Johnson managed too push those through in the 60s. And all attempts to expand on those propositions has been vehemently opposed ever since. Even the summaries in Wikipedia of this fight churn the stomach.

The Tories have been taking these ideas and running with them. How to get more money out of the pockets of the middle classes in return for next to nothing? Privatise national health. For decades, everyone has paid into the NHS and for the last decade or so the NHS has been shrinking its services. My in-laws live in an area of scattered small villages. There used to be a good hospital relatively nearby. Shut. Should there be an emergency in any of half a dozen villages, and possibly more, it’s at least an hour to the nearest major hospital.

Have their taxes gone down? No. And even if they had, the whole point of health insurance (at the national or private level) is that of collective risk. And bearing a collective burden for the greater good. Sort of like vaccination, but that’s another discussion.

I’ve probably discussed tuition fees before – Ronald Reagan instituted tuition payments on the public college/university system in California back in the 60s. These were still low when I enrolled at San Francisco State University in 1985. $300/term for the first year. When I left in 1989, my final semester cost $1300. It’s now about $6300 per term. In the UK, all of the universities were free until Cameron found another way to reward the bankers. My wife’s degree from Cambridge had no tuition. She had to be brilliant enough to get in, but family wealth wasn’t a consideration. Now? £9000/term. Add interest to those student loans, and it’s a windfall.

So, yeah, the movement of wealth from the bottom rungs to the top is, among other things, about college, credit, and coronary risk. It’s also about the ownership of legislatures and electoral processes by moneyed interests (whose wealth isn’t decreasing).

 

Not necessarily in that order. On August 5, 1986, my father turned 48 years old. On that date, I was 19 years, 4 months and 8 days old. I took him to a club in Santa Monica to see two comedians. The first was a juggler and the more interesting of the two, at least from dad’s perspective. I think he juggled bowling balls and apples at the same time, though I might be mistaken. The second was the guy who did the sound effects with his voice in the Police Academy movies. I was quite taken with his use of a digital sampler. Dad, an engineer and patent attorney, told me after the show that the technology in the sampler was similar to or derived from that used in radar. I’ve never verified this. I wore a silk necktie given to me by my ex-girlfriend for the previous Hanukkah on which I managed to spill sour cream from my nachos.

heartA couple of weeks later, the night before I returned to San Francisco for my sophomore year at SF State University, we had an argument about what I was going to do with my life. I was having a hard enough time just being in school and trying to pass my general ed without figuring out my future, though I had some idea that I wanted to teach.

It was the last time I saw him, not counting the day before he was cremated.

We argued about my future at least once more on the phone, though probably two or three times in the seven weeks before I returned to LA for the funeral. He probably died of a heart attack. There was no autopsy. Though he had a family history of heart disease, he hadn’t been to a doctor in ages. His mother died of cancer less than a year before he died, though she, too, had had a heart attack at 48. (She was single-handedly running an ice cream parlour in DC and, from the stories I heard, living on coffee and possibly milk shakes.) His father had died about ten years before, though I don’t recall the cause. I want to say it was coronary artery disease, but I’d need to verify.

So, in case you haven’t done the math, in about four weeks, I will also turn 48. For a long time I had this division of my life into three parts: The first 19 years, the last 19 years, and the 10 in between (which didn’t quite conclude with my separation from my first wife – life’s not quite that poetic). I figured when I was much younger that if I got beyond 48 myself, then everything else would be whipped cream on top.

My wife is aware of my obsession with the upcoming birthday, and tries very hard to keep me from overdoing my workouts. She had an uncle who died relatively young whilst on the treadmill at his gym. He was also under doctor’s orders to exercise for health.

I eat relatively well, am a little overweight, run for fitness, and see my doctor at least once a year. The most recent labs were all within normal limits. Blood pressure still slightly low as it has been since I was 22. My plan is to stick around for a great deal longer – 10 weeks or so after my next birthday, Rachel and I will celebrate our 5th anniversary (and almost 11 years together). I look more and more at my other family members. My father’s sister is still kicking ass and taking names at 74 or so and my mother just celebrated her 75th. And my maternal grandparents both lasted well past 80, including 53 years together. My mother didn’t think she’d see an anniversary like that, but has been with my stepdad for 39. Well on the way, really.

I miss my father most when I dream about him. In dreams, I often try to make him happy with what I’ve made of my life. He was brilliant (Engineering Princeton, JD from Georgetown) and astoundingly clever, though sometimes not very smart. Only in his last few years (and with his third wife) was he on his way to being happy. For my part, my life overflows with happiness most of the time, and as long as I’ve brought a fraction of that to other people, I can go when it’s my time without regret.

A friend recently posted a list of her 2014 reads. I used to do the same rather religiously but haven’t in several years. I read much more slowly, but also more carelessly than I used to. I’m sure I’ve finished more than three books so far this year,  but possibly not.

So:
All the rage by Ian MacLagen. Great recount of 50 years in the music biz, punctuated by bouts of heavy drug use. Or perhaps it’s the other way around. (MacLagen played keyboards with the Small Faces/Faces,  the Stones and much later with Billy Bragg. Passed away late last year. Helluva life.)

Inherent Vice by Thomas Pynchon. Good stuff, though it is very much Spade meets Lebowski. Looking forward to seeing the movie. It takes place in LA in the wake of the Manson murders and had a number of settings I know from my childhood.

To kill a mockingbird by Harper Lee. Still potent, still a classic. Recent revelation that the novel had its genesis as a flashback in a different story of an adult Scout visiting home gives a stronger basis for the language the narrator uses. Much of Scout’s voice is too old,  but you never know how old.

Now working on a volume of short stories by Uri Kurlianchik,  one of the contributors to Red Phone Box called Israeli Storyteller. Some fantasy,  some horror. Quite compelling stuff. 

Debating whether to dive into Pynchon’s Bleeding Edge now or something else.

In a New Yorker book review (16 Feb, 2015), Nathan Heller describes the places of several nordic countries on various happiness indices. He offers some reasons why these peoples measure their own happiness so positively (good schools, free tuition, effectively free health care, an unfrayed safety net, before offering the opinion of Michael Booth, author of The Almost Nearly Perfect People, that the services one receives in exchange for an upper tax rate of over 70% are ‘patchy’.

Heller delves deeper into Booth’s arguments, pointing to alcohol consumption, employment rates, bureaucracy, and cuisine, and ultimately shreds both Booth’s approach (let an expert speak at length, then quote without fact-checking and present everything in a quasi-Innocents Abroad ‘aren’t these foreigners quaint’ fashion) and his conclusions. Finally he moves from discussing Booth’s take on Scandinavia to an assessment of the current changes to the social order in many of these countries as a result of immigration and rising inequality.

While it’s a shame that the welfare state aspect of many such countries is being undercut by US-style “free-market” “improvements” (see the privatisation of the rail system and tuition requirements at formerly free higher education facilities in the UK, for example, not to mention the pillage of the NHS that not even Maggie Thatcher would have dreamed of), these things are not trivial. I’m not the first to suggest that I don’t mind my taxes paying for education even though I don’t have children: I don’t want to live in a society surrounded by the uninformed. The review describes a Swedish couple, the wife of which didn’t pay any tuition to become a neurosurgeon. Fantastic. I’d rather any doctor I see to have gone through medical school on merit and without the worry of how to pay back hundreds of thousands of dollars/euros/etc. in student loans.

The introduction of tuition to previously taxpayer-funded universities is a tradition pioneered by Ronald Reagan when he was governor of California and, as noted, now followed by Cameron and his cronies in the UK. Like the privatisation of the rails and the NHS, it is nothing but a transfer of wealth from the lower and working classes to the bankers and other members of the 1%. Calling it anything but a handover to the City of London is to miss the point.

Rachel Maddow this week told of how Wisconsin’s Governor Walker is on a quest to slash funding for his state’s renowned public university system by hundreds of millions of dollars. Same thing. Please the bankers, and your next campaign is funded.

At the same time, Germany is offering free tuition to its universities to anyone who can pass the entrance exams. My sister told me of a couple she knows with two kids, eight and ten, if I recall rightly, who are moving there, though this new plan does not require German residency or citizenship. Language, yes, but if you can get in, Berlin will pay your tuition.

This is the choice we’re after – we can educate and take care of the next generations or we can continue to mess it up. In the US, the war on education has taken a number of forms – one the age-old battle against teachers’ unions and the despicable salaries we pay to those who spend the vast majority of their waking hours either looking after our children or finding ways to make sure they know enough to get to the next level. Another is the fight against teaching science in all its forms, but primarily the teaching of evolution. I share the belief that no questions for which science provides an answer have been better answered by religion. (I’m sure there’s a better quote from someone like Sagan or Tyson, but that’s the gist.) In some regions, I’m distinctly in the minority and 90 years after the Scopes trial, we’re still fighting the same battle.

Yes, I’ve gone from discussing free education to useful education, but surely these things go hand in hand. We had a short period during which we as a culture recognised not only a right to an education, but a responsibility to educate the next generation. It’s possible that period ran only from the GI Bill to (in California) Proposition 13, but with the slashing of tax revenues from a variety of places (Governor Brownback’s Kansas fiasco being a major one), public education takes a big hit.

The upshot of this is that people in states with very high tax rates are still happier and better off by a number of measures than those in the low-tax United States. My guess is that a secure education and worry-free medical care play a very large role in that.

A gent named Channing Kennedy recently wrote a piece called Face It, Live Music Kinda Sucks for Talking Points Memo in which he went to great lengths to discuss how the live music experience falls short of expectations. I shared it because my wife and I don’t see eye to eye about going to gigs. For her the hassle of getting to a gig even for a band she really loves and standing up for several hours is not generally outweighed by the joy of listening to musicians who really love what they’re doing do it well.

bumper-sticker_LMIBRatD
Kennedy puts forth his bona fides: ran a small record label, played in a few bands, and has been to a lot of gigs. On my part: I’ve bought a lot of music from small labels and I’ve been to a lot of gigs. From my first, Donna Summer at the Hollywood Bowl in (I think) 1980 to my most recent, Kraftwerk in Amsterdam two weeks ago.
He then asserts that “musicians you don’t know will bore you to death.” Could be. I saw Mr. Mister in 1984 (an opening slot for Adam Ant), just a couple years before their hits. I wished I’d known to watch the drummer. He has manned the sticks with King Crimson since the mid-90s and is mind-blowing. Was he in ’84 (or even in ’87 when you couldn’t escape Broken Wings and Kyrie)? Not sure. I’ve seen plenty of acts whose music I didn’t know, but whose work I happily purchased after the gig. A couple years ago I saw an EBM crew called Covenant because a friend played keyboards for the opening act. Bloody brilliant. A few years ago I saw  Sunn O))) for (what I hope is) the first time. I’d heard their shows were quite intense and decided not to listen to anything they’d done before the gig. Mindbending. Allow yourself the whole experience.
Consider the jazz made in the late 40s and early 50s. Even if you’d heard recordings by Miles or Dizzy before seeing them, what you heard on any given night bore little resemblance to those sides. The same is true of music with any improvisational aspect today.
What distinguishes your experience of musicians you know vs. musicians you don’t is your openness to what the person on stage is doing. Close yourself and it’s dull; open yourself and oh gracious, what a beautiful thing that guy just did with his voice.
Kennedy’s next point is that “the musicians you love will disappoint you.” Live performance is a risk. Musicians have off nights; audiences are capricious; venue policies can spoil even the most well-conceived evening. He describes one of his first gigs: They Might Be Giants, who were just two middle-aged guys playing clever music. The complaint: The show didn’t resemble Van Halen’s Jump video. Did he not notice David Lee Roth’s multiple costume changes in the course of one 3-minute pop song? TMBG disappointed because the writer wasn’t up for the experience of the evening. (Note also the writer’s admission that he attended with a girl he’d just broken up with. That’d put a wet blanket on any gig. I saw David Bowie and Nine Inch Nails with my wife (previous) and a guy she was having an affair with. It was a fantastic show, but I was not the ideal audience. Next time Bowie came to town, I went alone.) The artists you love offer you nothing more than the opportunity to see and hear them perform (depending on your place in the venue). Adjust your expectations accordingly and you won’t be disappointed. If you’re grown up enough to do so.
The writer’s comments about TMBG and Van Halen, however, come from  his  next supporting argument: Live music, as a medium, is structurally flawed. His assertion here is that the tension between an audience wanting to hear exactly what’s on the album goes head to head with their desire to hear something new in the music and the artist’s desire/lack thereof to actually perform. In the 80s, Bruce Springsteen released a slow, mournful arrangement of Born To Run which he used briefly in his live sets. Artistic freedom, yes, but I was also relieved that the version he played when I saw him the following year was closer to that on the album. Springsteen might be an exceptional  case because of his sheer showmanship. Few young artists can dredge up the experience Bruce’s thousands of road hours provide him. Again, there’s got to be a trust between performer and audience that the experience is not one way.
Kennedy then goes after the nature of the booking system. Acts get booked based on a lot of factors that aren’t talent or entertainment value. Fair enough, but that has little to do with live music as a whole being lousy. What it means is that, especially at the low-budget end of the live music spectrum, there will be surprises no matter the gig. And that’s part of the experience. To be fair, he talked about hustling for gigs and getting cut slack because his band were “two white males with college-town cultural fluency”. That doesn’t speak well for him or his band, but one clapping to him for acknowledging his privilege.
His concluding advice to bands, venues, and audiences is an effort to make live music kinda suck less and points up that he’s not so much against all  live music but against the aspects of it that have become unbearable. I’m with him on that.
And Neil Young’s Union Man, from which we get the line “Live Music Is Better Bumper Stickers Should Be Issued”.