John Edwards is back, talking with the Clinton and the Obama campaigns, presumably about potential terms of an endorsement. Given his slashing attacks on Senator Clinton, one would expect him to endorse Obama or no one. Politics being what it is, one would be foolish to predict.
I was never much of a John Edwards fan. Yet one has to have a heart of stone not to be moved by his tale of the two Americas. His concerns about inequality obviously run deep. No one should doubt that we really do live in two Americas: one filled with opportunity, security, and hope, and another which conspicuously lacks each of these things. Millions of people live in each America. Less noticed is the reality that many people straddle both, at different times of our lives or in facing different concerns.
Edwards provided a necessary corrective to our national complacency, but his angry populist stance was sometimes dangerous and, ultimately, self-limiting in a country dominated by middle-class concerns. The truth is: we all have a stake in this issue. Each of us, not only poor people, is harmed by widening inequality. Each of us is also harmed by the impoverished public sphere that has accompanied this trend. A society blessed with beautiful iPhones and art museums alongside poor public services, too few food inspectors, and crumbling schools is not healthy or stable. It is not even, over the long-run, likely to remain prosperous. This is an old issue, going back at least to Galbraith's Affluent Society. It remains pressing.
Consider one example of how a narrow vision of government hurts us all. Not long ago, HHS Secretary Michael Leavitt weighed into the long-term care debate by pronouncing that "Medicaid must not become an inheritance protection plan." With surgical precision, Leavitt illustrated how Republicans are so wrong-headed in their approach to social problems. A party aghast about the "death tax" remains oddly sanguine about the prospect that millions of people lose their life savings because of prolonged illness requiring costly care. I don't know about you, but I'm not thrilled about the possibility that I might contract Alzheimer's. Every year, tens of thousands of people walk into that final fog terrified that everything they hoped to leave their children will instead be spent checking their bedsores and changing their diapers.
The idea that we can protect each other from such terrors is the essence of social insurance. Although the private sector can help, we can't do this without activist government. Americans understand this point. This is why many state legislatures create or tolerate loopholes in Medicaid estate planning. This is why Americans emphatically rejected efforts to privatize Social Security, even before the Bush presidency headed south.
Social security, in this generic sense, also provides the precondition for a modern economy. Without some sense of security, protection, and yes some progressive redistribution of the resulting gains, ordinary people have little reason to support market policies such as free trade that promote efficiency and global economic growth, but that also bring uncertainties and risk.
All of these issues touch each of us, sometimes quite personally. For much of my life, I saw myself as the classic yuppie who votes Democrat because this is the right thing to do, but who personally benefits from Republican tax cuts. Now, through accident of family circumstance, I find myself the co-guardian of an intellectually disabled man with medical problems. I thank my lucky stars for Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, and lesser-known programs. I only wish these programs were more generous and more effectively administered.
Our family is not getting a free lunch--anyone who thinks so is welcome to come on over and try it. But we need, and I believe we deserve, this help. So do millions of other families caring for a disabled child, enduring chronic unemployment, or facing other difficulties. The ethic of collective provision provides the real test of America's family values. It also shapes our quality of life.
I recently moved from a state university to a new position in Chicago. Moving from a comically progressive university community to this rough town, I am struck by the extent that everybody's life is diminished by Chicago's gaping racial and economic inequalities.
I don't mean the obvious: huge bills for social services of every kind, fear of crime, abandoned housing projects that scar the landscape. This is all clear enough, but the damage also goes deeper. It ranges from our hollowed-out medical care sector, to bureaucratic public school systems that are deeply and pervasively mediocre outside a few exclusive communities. Mediocre schools produce an often-innumerate and unskilled workforce. Research indicates that six percent of Chicago's African-American male high school students go on to become four-year college graduates. This is not acceptable.
There are other costs. Driving the Dan Ryan, one passes surprising numbers of gray or white Crown Victorias, unmarked but obvious security, corrections, and law enforcement vehicles. These are the least painful signs of the hundreds of millions of dollars we spend in Chicago to protect ourselves, from each other.
Mayor Daley (the son) is basically good and decent. He has avoided the worst sins of his father. He has created beautiful parks and green space downtown. He's trying to fix bad public schools and awful public housing. He's got a big mountain to climb.
Some friends and colleagues escape by moving to the best suburbs, use private schools, or compete feverishly for slots in a handful of magnet schools. On other fronts, my university and others wisely spend millions on a large police force. Life being what it is, escape is sometimes unavailable. Even when escape is possible, the fear of falling, to use Barbara Ehrenreich's diagnostic terminology, remains palpable.
As Barack Obama grasps the advantage in the Democratic nomination fight, he is the ideal person to re-engage these issues, not by co-opting Edwards' angry populism, but by explaining how each of us, rich or not, educated or not, white or not, would benefit from a more progressive and equitable society.
Commentators wonder where Senator Obama sits on the ideological spectrum. Paul Krugman finds Obama ideologically suspect. The National Journal labels him extremely liberal. The Clinton campaign can't quite decide if they are running against Bruce Babbitt or Jesse Jackson. They sometimes describe Obama as the candidate of the latte-sipping professoriate. They sometimes describe him as the Black candidate.
The polls tell us Obama is a bit of both. That's part of what makes him a tough candidate. It also gives Obama a unique opportunity to bring us together, to challenge some low-income communities to turn off the TV and to address their problems, and to challenge other more fortunate citizens to stop complaining about paying not-very-onerous taxes.
There is no rich America or poor America. There is only the United States of America. We would be a better, stronger, and more prosperous country if we acted on this reality. I hope that John Edwards endorses Senator Obama. Making this fight would be the best legacy of the Edwards campaign.
A postscript on Tom Lantos:
The death of Congressman Tom Lantos was announced today. A Holocaust survivor and refugee from Communism, he brought a lifelong commitment to social justice and human rights. He had escaped twice from a forced labor camp, and was eventually rescued by Raoul Wallenberg. His mother and most of his family were less lucky. His accent provided a lovely calling card from the Hungarian refugee community that has so enriched our country.
He died too soon at 80. Only a few months ago, I heard him on NPR. He was chairing a House Foreign Affairs Committee hearing on Iraq. His tart exchange with General David Petraeus, one patriot to another about how to proceed in Iraq, were memorable.
I grew up knowing many people with similar stories. Demography being what it is, the survivor generation is leaving the scene. If you are a young activist, you should read his obituary.
He will be missed.