The legendary economist explains how a nation can remain both compassionate and fiscally sound, with “common sense raised to the level of genius” ( The New Yorker ).
This compact, eloquent book offers a blueprint for a workable national agenda that allows for human weakness without compromising a humane culture. Arguing that it is in the best interest of the United States to avoid excessive wealth and income inequality, and to safeguard the well-being of its citizens, he explores how the goal of a good society can be achieved in an economically feasible way.
Touching on topics from regulation, inflation, and deficits to education, the environment, bureaucracy, and the military, Galbraith avoids purely partisan or rigid ideological politics—instead addressing practical problems with logic and well-thought-out principles.
“Carefully reasoned . . . the pragmatically liberal Galbraith [argues] that both socialism and complete surrender to market forces are irrelevant as guides to public action.” — Publishers Weekly
Review
“Nearing 90 years of age and with 30 books to his credit, Galbraith is in a position to sit back and reflect. Contemplating what kind of society we can have and what kind we seem to want to have, he tries to reconcile the differences. Galbraith holds out—and holds out for—‘the good society.’ He knowingly appropriates this frequently used phrase, acknowledging that it was first used in the 1920s by Walter Lippmann in his same-titled ‘defense’ of the principles of liberalism. Timed to stir both voters and candidates, The Good Society calls for compassionate social responsibility. Galbraith suggests that the current political agenda that attacks the poor received the explicit support of less than one-fourth of the electorate, and he makes the case that the ‘haves’ can still have it without having to have it all. Because of who Galbraith is, this will be an important book, and libraries wanting to strengthen collections to cover topics relevant to the presidential election campaign may want extra copies.” — Booklist
About the Author
John Kenneth Galbraith (1908–2006) was a critically acclaimed author and one of America’s foremost economists. His most famous works include The Affluent Society , The Good Society , and The Great Crash. Galbraith was the recipient of the Order of Canada and the Robert F. Kennedy Book Award for Lifetime Achievement, and he was twice awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom.
From Booklist
Nearing 90 years of age and with 30 books to his credit, Galbraith is in a position to sit back and reflect. Contemplating what kind of society we can have and what kind we seem to want to have, he tries to reconcile the differences. Galbraith holds out--and holds out for--"the good society." He knowingly appropriates this frequently used phrase, acknowledging that it was first used in the 1920s by Walter Lippmann in his same-titled "defense" of the principles of liberalism. Timed to stir both voters and candidates, The Good Society calls for compassionate social responsibility. Galbraith suggests that the current political agenda that attacks the poor received the explicit support of less than one-fourth of the electorate, and he makes the case that the "haves" can still have it without having to have it all. Because of who Galbraith is, this will be an important book, and libraries wanting to strengthen collections to cover topics relevant to the presidential election campaign may want extra copies. David Rouse --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
From Library Journal
In this slim volume, eminent economist Galbraith tackles the question of what, exactly, is a "good society." Most Americans would agree with the components of Galbraith's "good society": economic growth; universal access to education; and protection for the young, old, disabled, and the environment. He parts company with the pundits in his disbelief that the "good society" can be obtained through adherence to a particular ideology, arguing instead that rigid philosophies must be abandoned and each issue considered in all its complexity. With his usual elegance and common sense, the Harvard professor emeritus discusses such issues as NAFTA, the balanced budget amendment, and the flat income tax, always focusing on their economic ramifications and effect on the common good. You will find no numbers or statistics here?just an optimistic, yet realistic, philosophical discourse on social welfare, economics, and politics in the 1990s. Recommended for academic and large public libraries. -?Eris Weaver, Marin Inst., San Rafael, Cal. Copyright 1996 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
From Publishers Weekly
In this carefully reasoned manifesto, eminent economist Galbraith outlines his vision of the good society. To prevent recurrent stagnation and unemployment, he advises active intervention by the state. Arguing that the federal deficit is being used by conservatives as a pretext to attack social programs, he recommends a progressive income tax that eliminates tax concessions for the affluent, as well as ending government subsidies for business ("corporate welfare") and stopping the vast payments to the armaments industry. His version of the good society also encompasses a strong environmental movement, a more open immigration policy and a sturdier safety net for the poor and disadvantaged. Though there are few surprises here, those who agree with the pragmatically liberal Galbraith that both socialism and complete surrender to market forces are irrelevant as guides to public action will find his primer a useful springboard for planning the future. Copyright 1996 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
Title Page, Contents, Copyright, Acknowledgments, Dedication, The Good Society, The Wider Screen, The Age of Practical Judgment, The Social Foundation, The Good Economy, Inflation, The Deficit, The Distribution of Income and Power, The Decisive Role of Education, Regulation, The Environment, Migration, The Autonomous Military Power, The Bureaucratic Syndrome, Foreign Policy, The Poor of the Planet I, The Poor of the Planet II, The Political Context, About the Author, Footnotes,
CHAPTER 1
The Good Society
Among the great nations of the world none is more given to introspection than the United States. No day passes without reflective comment — by the press, on radio or television, in an article or book, in compelled and sometimes compelling oratory — on what is wrong in the society and what could be improved. This is also, if in lesser measure, a preoccupation in the other industrial lands — Britain, Canada, France, Germany, elsewhere in Europe and in Japan. No one can deplore this exercise; far better and far more informative such a search than the facile assumption that all is well. Before knowing what is right, one must know what is wrong.
There is, however, another, less traveled course of thought. That is to explore and define what, very specifically, would be right. Just what should the good society be? Toward what, stated as clearly as may be possible, should we aim? The tragic gap between the fortunate and the needful having been recognized, how, in a practical way, can it be closed? How can economic policy contribute to this end? What of the public services of the state; how can they be made more equitably and efficiently available? How can the environment, present and future, be protected? What of immigration, migration and migrants? What of the military power? What is the responsibility and course of action of the good society as regards its trading partners and neighbors in an increasingly internationalized world and as regards the poor of the planet? The responsibility for economic and social well-being is general, transnational. Human beings are human beings wherever they live. Concern for their suffering from hunger, other deprivation and disease does not end because those so afflicted are on the other side of an international frontier. This is the case even though no elementary truth is so consistently ignored or, on occasion, so fervently assailed.
To tell what would be right is the purpose of this book. It is clear at the outset that it will encounter a difficult problem, for a distinction must be made, a line drawn, between what might be perfect and what is achievable. This task and the result may not be politically popular and certainly not in a polity where, as I shall argue, the fortunate are now socially and politically dominant. To identify and urge the good and achievable society may well be a minority effort, but better that effort than none at all. Perhaps, at a minimum, the comfortable will be afflicted in a useful way. In any case, there is no chance for the better society unless the good and achievable society is clearly defined.
It is the achievable, not the perfect, that is here identified and described. To envision a perfect society has not in the past been an unattractive exercise,- over the centuries it has been attempted by many scholars and not a few of the greatest philosophers. It is also, alas, a formula for dismissal. The predictable reaction is the statement that one's goals are "purely Utopian." The real world has constraints imposed by human nature, by history and by deeply in- - grained patterns of thought. There are also constitutional restraints and other long-established legislative procedures as well as the controls attendant on the political party system. And there is the fixed institutional structure of the economy — the corporations and the other business enterprises, large and small, and the limits they impose. In all the industrial countries, there is the firm commitment to the consumer economy — to consumer goods and services — as the primary source of human satisfaction and enjoyment and as the most visible measure of social achievement. There is also the even more urgent need for the income that comes from production. In the modern economy, a slightly bizarre fact, production is now more necessary for the employment it provides than for the goods and services it supplies.
Any useful identification of the good society must therefore take into consideration the institutional structure and the human characteristics that are fixed, immutable. They make the difference between the Utopian and the achievable, between the agreeably irrelevant and the ultimately possible.
To define the achievable is the most difficult problem with which an essay such as this contends. It is also the most controversial. To call some urgently required action politically or socially impossible is the first (and sometimes the only) line of defense against unwanted change.
This book tells of the good society that is the achievable society. It accepts that some barriers to achievement are immobile, decisive, and thus must be accepted. But there are also goals that cannot be compromised. In the good society all of its citizens must have personal liberty, basic well-being, racial and ethnic equality, the opportunity for a rewarding life. Nothing, it must be recognized, so comprehensively denies the liberties of the individual as a total absence of money. Or so impairs it as too little. In the years of Communism it is not clear that one would wisely have exchanged the restraints on freedom of the resident of East Berlin for those imposed by poverty on the poorest citizens of the South Bronx in New York. Meanwhile, nothing so inspires socially useful effort as the prospect of pecuniary reward, both for what it procures and not rarely for the pleasure of pure possession it accords. This too the good society must acknowledge; these motivations are controlling.
As there are shaping forces, some deep in human nature, that must be accepted, so there are constraints that the good society cannot, must not, accept. Socially desirable change is regularly denied out of well-recognized self-interest. In the most important current case, the comfortably affluent resist public action for the poor because of the threat of increased taxes or the failure of a promise of tax reduction. This, the good society cannot accept. The seemingly decisive constraint here, in fact, is a political attitude that supports and sustains the very conditions that require correction. When it is said that some action may be good but is politically impractical, it must be understood that this is the common design for protecting a socially adverse interest.
It is the nature of privileged position that it develops its own political justification and often the economic and social doctrine that serves it best. No one likes to believe that his or her personal well-being is in conflict with the greater public need. To invent a plausible or, if necessary, a moderately implausible ideology in defense of self-interest is thus a natural course. A corps of willing and talented craftsmen is available for the task. And such ideology gains greatly in force as those who are favored increase in number. The pages that follow contend with but do not respect this broad tendency. Their purpose is to challenge it wherever, as is often the case, it stands against the larger and more urgent public need.
CHAPTER 2
The Wider Screen
In a book published a few years ago, I observed that in the rich countries of the world, and notably in the United States, there was a new political dialectic. Once there was employer versus employed; the capitalist, great and less great, versus the working masses, the latter in varying relationship with landlords, peasantry and in the United States the independent farmers. There was always effort to put the opposing interests in benign terms: the system as a whole served the interest of all; the overriding role of constitutional democracy protected liberties and ensured a reasonably peaceful resolution of the inherent differences; everything was for the best.
There was, nonetheless, conflict implicit in all reputable economic and political thought. It shaped the development of modern politics in the United States, Western Europe and Japan. On the one hand, there were the liberals, as they were called in the United States; the socialists and social democrats, as elsewhere they were named; on the other, asserting or accepting the business interest, the conservatives. There were many variants in practical politics, concessions from one side to the other, often reluctantly extracted. Wider issues — peace and war, religious commitment, ethnic and racial equality — intruded. In the United States a large rural population helped to mellow the conflict. Always present, however, was the basic, the ultimate, dichotomy: capital versus labor. That, to repeat, was assumed in all political discourse and action.
Now it can be assumed no longer. The old dichotomy survives in the public psyche — the residue of its long and ardent history. But in the modern economy and polity the division is very different, and this is so in all the economically advanced countries. On one side, there are now the rich, the comfortably endowed and those so aspiring, and on the other the economically less fortunate and the poor, along with the considerable number who, out of social concern or sympathy, seek to speak for them or for a more compassionate world. This is the economic and political alignment today.
The rich and the well situated are now far more numerous and diverse than the erstwhile capitalist class, and they are also politically much more articulate. (The great capitalists were often slightly reticent as to their public role and interest.) The less favored are the poverty-stricken of the great cities, those who staff the service industries, the unemployable and the unemployed. And those who suffer from residual racial, gender or age discrimination or who are recent and sometimes illegal immigrants. All are largely without political voice except as they are supported and represented by the considerable number in the more fortunate brackets who feel and express concern.
Here in briefest form is the modern political dialectic. It is an unequal contest: the rich and the comfortable have influence and money. And they vote. The concerned and the poor have numbers, but many of the poor, alas, do not vote. There is democracy, but in no slight measure it is a democracy of the fortunate.
A defining issue between these two groupings, as is well recognized, is the role of government. For the poor, the government can be central to their well-being, and for some even to survival. For the rich and the comfortable, it is a burden save when, as in the case of military expenditure, Social Security and the rescue of failed financial institutions, it serves their particular interest. Then it ceases to be burdensome and becomes a social necessity, a social good, as certainly it is not when the government serves the poor.
In the congressional and state elections in the autumn of 1994, there was a massive swing to the political right in the United States. The principal issue was the just mentioned role of government and its cost, always with the exceptions already noted. The victory was not quite as significant in quantitative terms as has sometimes been suggested. Fewer than half of those eligible went to the polls; the prevailing candidates won with slightly less than one quarter of the eligible vote. While The Good Society had been under way for some time prior to the election, the outcome of the latter sharply affirmed the purpose of the book, which is to state in as clear terms as possible what should be the goal not for the fortunate but for all.
This may now seem outside the limits of the achievable as they were earlier discussed. One may be sure that those who define politics in terms of the seemingly practical will so believe and certainly so say. The trend of the time is in the opposite direction. Let romance not disguise reality: in the United States one influential part of the media defines as truth the currently popular political attitude.
This is to ignore a far deeper truth — to fail to appreciate the more fundamental thrust of history, which is greater than current action and reaction and has a controlling influence of its own. It is the pride of liberals and the political conviction of conservatives that they shape the social agenda; in fact, it is shaped by the deeper trends of history. To these there must be accommodation, and liberals, social democrats and those called socialists in the advanced countries have traditionally made or guided this accommodation. In consequence, to them has been attributed the larger change; some, indeed many, have taken credit therefor, and conservatives have all but universally awarded them responsibility and blame. But, in reality, it is history that is in control. The briefest look at the basic circumstances readily establishes the point.
Until the early decades of the present century the United States was predominantly a rural country. As late as the Great Depression, approaching half of all gainfully employed workers were in agriculture. Many more were in small-scale merchant, service and other village enterprises. In this economic and social context there was no urgent need for Social Security, one of the great transforming steps of the time, for here the next generation looked after the last. Or from the sale of the farm or small business came the wherewithal, life expectancy being what it was, to support the relatively brief retirement. It was the longer life span provided by modern medicine but, more important, the rise of urban industry and employment, not liberals or socialists, that created the pressure for Social Security.
It was also industrial and urban development that made unemployment a problem. In traditional agriculture it did not exist; there was always work to do on the farms and in the supporting rural services. (In the Depression farm employment or farm existence of a sort was the resort of some millions of urban workers in the United States.) Because of industrial development and urbanization, unemployment compensation became essential.
Modern medical insurance is also the offspring of history. Until relatively recent times medical knowledge was limited, as was the possibility of remedial effect. The local doctor had little to sell; death was early, inevitable and inexpensive. It was the enormous growth and improvement in medical and surgical procedures that made health insurance both necessary and desirable. This was the ultimate and motivating force. Death would no longer be the automatic prognosis for the poor or the only moderately affluent.
The simple living standard of earlier and by no means distant times posed few problems as to product safety or reliability. Basic foods, clothing, house room could all be appraised quite adequately by the purchaser; no deeper information was required. Until recently agriculture and elementary industry had little adverse environmental effect, and neither did their marketing outlets and suppliers. Now, with the expansion and complexity of the economy, consumers must be protected, along with the environment.
But there is more. The poor in the United States, while none could doubt their degradation and misery, were once largely invisible — poor blacks were hidden away on the farms and plantations of the rural South with primitive food, clothing and shelter, little in the way of education and no civil rights. Many poor whites were unseen on the hills and in the hollows of Appalachia. Poverty was not a problem when distant, out of sight. Only as economic, political and social change brought the needy to the cities did welfare become a public concern, the poor now living next to and in deep contrast with the relatively affluent.
The force of history extends to foreign policy. Before the United States became a world power, the Department of State was a small, comfortable enclave of well-bred gentlemen pursuing an effortless routine of no great consequence. It was only with the emergence of the United States as a major player on the international scene and the breakup of the colonial world, leading on to the problems and the conflicts of the poor countries, to the question of economic assistance and the more than occasional necessity for intervention to restore peace and tranquillity, that foreign policy became a major preoccupation.
Here then is the error: in the common view of both liberals and conservatives in the United States, it is the liberals who have made government a large, intrusive force. Both groups wish to believe that it is political decision and action that are controlling. And from this comes the prime conservative notion that social and economic policy can be reversed, a view held not alone in the United States but in France, Canada and for long years in Britain, where there is or has been a similar belief among the Tories.
History, the truly relevant source of change, will not be reversed. The new Congress that came to office in the United States in early 1995 representing the conservative will expressed its intention to dismantle much of the welfare state, much of the modern regulatory apparatus of government, and to limit drastically the role of government in general. This was the broad promise broadly enunciated. Then came the specific legislation, the assault on particular functions and regulations. As this is written, these are proving far from popular; once more we see the not unusual conflict between broad theory and specific action. Some dramatic and well-publicized exceptions possibly apart, the welfare state and its basic programs will survive. The larger force of history is still at work.
Description:
The legendary economist explains how a nation can remain both compassionate and fiscally sound, with “common sense raised to the level of genius” ( The New Yorker ).
This compact, eloquent book offers a blueprint for a workable national agenda that allows for human weakness without compromising a humane culture. Arguing that it is in the best interest of the United States to avoid excessive wealth and income inequality, and to safeguard the well-being of its citizens, he explores how the goal of a good society can be achieved in an economically feasible way.
Touching on topics from regulation, inflation, and deficits to education, the environment, bureaucracy, and the military, Galbraith avoids purely partisan or rigid ideological politics—instead addressing practical problems with logic and well-thought-out principles.
“Carefully reasoned . . . the pragmatically liberal Galbraith [argues] that both socialism and complete surrender to market forces are irrelevant as guides to public action.” — Publishers Weekly
Review
“Nearing 90 years of age and with 30 books to his credit, Galbraith is in a position to sit back and reflect. Contemplating what kind of society we can have and what kind we seem to want to have, he tries to reconcile the differences. Galbraith holds out—and holds out for—‘the good society.’ He knowingly appropriates this frequently used phrase, acknowledging that it was first used in the 1920s by Walter Lippmann in his same-titled ‘defense’ of the principles of liberalism. Timed to stir both voters and candidates, The Good Society calls for compassionate social responsibility. Galbraith suggests that the current political agenda that attacks the poor received the explicit support of less than one-fourth of the electorate, and he makes the case that the ‘haves’ can still have it without having to have it all. Because of who Galbraith is, this will be an important book, and libraries wanting to strengthen collections to cover topics relevant to the presidential election campaign may want extra copies.” — Booklist
About the Author
John Kenneth Galbraith (1908–2006) was a critically acclaimed author and one of America’s foremost economists. His most famous works include The Affluent Society , The Good Society , and The Great Crash. Galbraith was the recipient of the Order of Canada and the Robert F. Kennedy Book Award for Lifetime Achievement, and he was twice awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom.
From Booklist
Nearing 90 years of age and with 30 books to his credit, Galbraith is in a position to sit back and reflect. Contemplating what kind of society we can have and what kind we seem to want to have, he tries to reconcile the differences. Galbraith holds out--and holds out for--"the good society." He knowingly appropriates this frequently used phrase, acknowledging that it was first used in the 1920s by Walter Lippmann in his same-titled "defense" of the principles of liberalism. Timed to stir both voters and candidates, The Good Society calls for compassionate social responsibility. Galbraith suggests that the current political agenda that attacks the poor received the explicit support of less than one-fourth of the electorate, and he makes the case that the "haves" can still have it without having to have it all. Because of who Galbraith is, this will be an important book, and libraries wanting to strengthen collections to cover topics relevant to the presidential election campaign may want extra copies. David Rouse --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
From Library Journal
In this slim volume, eminent economist Galbraith tackles the question of what, exactly, is a "good society." Most Americans would agree with the components of Galbraith's "good society": economic growth; universal access to education; and protection for the young, old, disabled, and the environment. He parts company with the pundits in his disbelief that the "good society" can be obtained through adherence to a particular ideology, arguing instead that rigid philosophies must be abandoned and each issue considered in all its complexity. With his usual elegance and common sense, the Harvard professor emeritus discusses such issues as NAFTA, the balanced budget amendment, and the flat income tax, always focusing on their economic ramifications and effect on the common good. You will find no numbers or statistics here?just an optimistic, yet realistic, philosophical discourse on social welfare, economics, and politics in the 1990s. Recommended for academic and large public libraries.
-?Eris Weaver, Marin Inst., San Rafael, Cal.
Copyright 1996 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
From Publishers Weekly
In this carefully reasoned manifesto, eminent economist Galbraith outlines his vision of the good society. To prevent recurrent stagnation and unemployment, he advises active intervention by the state. Arguing that the federal deficit is being used by conservatives as a pretext to attack social programs, he recommends a progressive income tax that eliminates tax concessions for the affluent, as well as ending government subsidies for business ("corporate welfare") and stopping the vast payments to the armaments industry. His version of the good society also encompasses a strong environmental movement, a more open immigration policy and a sturdier safety net for the poor and disadvantaged. Though there are few surprises here, those who agree with the pragmatically liberal Galbraith that both socialism and complete surrender to market forces are irrelevant as guides to public action will find his primer a useful springboard for planning the future.
Copyright 1996 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an alternate kindle_edition edition.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The Good Society
The Humane Agenda
By John Kenneth Galbraith
Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company
Copyright © 1996 John Kenneth Galbraith
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-395-85998-8
Contents
Title Page,
Contents,
Copyright,
Acknowledgments,
Dedication,
The Good Society,
The Wider Screen,
The Age of Practical Judgment,
The Social Foundation,
The Good Economy,
Inflation,
The Deficit,
The Distribution of Income and Power,
The Decisive Role of Education,
Regulation,
The Environment,
Migration,
The Autonomous Military Power,
The Bureaucratic Syndrome,
Foreign Policy,
The Poor of the Planet I,
The Poor of the Planet II,
The Political Context,
About the Author,
Footnotes,
CHAPTER 1
The Good Society
Among the great nations of the world none is more given to introspection than the United States. No day passes without reflective comment — by the press, on radio or television, in an article or book, in compelled and sometimes compelling oratory — on what is wrong in the society and what could be improved. This is also, if in lesser measure, a preoccupation in the other industrial lands — Britain, Canada, France, Germany, elsewhere in Europe and in Japan. No one can deplore this exercise; far better and far more informative such a search than the facile assumption that all is well. Before knowing what is right, one must know what is wrong.
There is, however, another, less traveled course of thought. That is to explore and define what, very specifically, would be right. Just what should the good society be? Toward what, stated as clearly as may be possible, should we aim? The tragic gap between the fortunate and the needful having been recognized, how, in a practical way, can it be closed? How can economic policy contribute to this end? What of the public services of the state; how can they be made more equitably and efficiently available? How can the environment, present and future, be protected? What of immigration, migration and migrants? What of the military power? What is the responsibility and course of action of the good society as regards its trading partners and neighbors in an increasingly internationalized world and as regards the poor of the planet? The responsibility for economic and social well-being is general, transnational. Human beings are human beings wherever they live. Concern for their suffering from hunger, other deprivation and disease does not end because those so afflicted are on the other side of an international frontier. This is the case even though no elementary truth is so consistently ignored or, on occasion, so fervently assailed.
To tell what would be right is the purpose of this book. It is clear at the outset that it will encounter a difficult problem, for a distinction must be made, a line drawn, between what might be perfect and what is achievable. This task and the result may not be politically popular and certainly not in a polity where, as I shall argue, the fortunate are now socially and politically dominant. To identify and urge the good and achievable society may well be a minority effort, but better that effort than none at all. Perhaps, at a minimum, the comfortable will be afflicted in a useful way. In any case, there is no chance for the better society unless the good and achievable society is clearly defined.
It is the achievable, not the perfect, that is here identified and described. To envision a perfect society has not in the past been an unattractive exercise,- over the centuries it has been attempted by many scholars and not a few of the greatest philosophers. It is also, alas, a formula for dismissal. The predictable reaction is the statement that one's goals are "purely Utopian." The real world has constraints imposed by human nature, by history and by deeply in- - grained patterns of thought. There are also constitutional restraints and other long-established legislative procedures as well as the controls attendant on the political party system. And there is the fixed institutional structure of the economy — the corporations and the other business enterprises, large and small, and the limits they impose. In all the industrial countries, there is the firm commitment to the consumer economy — to consumer goods and services — as the primary source of human satisfaction and enjoyment and as the most visible measure of social achievement. There is also the even more urgent need for the income that comes from production. In the modern economy, a slightly bizarre fact, production is now more necessary for the employment it provides than for the goods and services it supplies.
Any useful identification of the good society must therefore take into consideration the institutional structure and the human characteristics that are fixed, immutable. They make the difference between the Utopian and the achievable, between the agreeably irrelevant and the ultimately possible.
To define the achievable is the most difficult problem with which an essay such as this contends. It is also the most controversial. To call some urgently required action politically or socially impossible is the first (and sometimes the only) line of defense against unwanted change.
This book tells of the good society that is the achievable society. It accepts that some barriers to achievement are immobile, decisive, and thus must be accepted. But there are also goals that cannot be compromised. In the good society all of its citizens must have personal liberty, basic well-being, racial and ethnic equality, the opportunity for a rewarding life. Nothing, it must be recognized, so comprehensively denies the liberties of the individual as a total absence of money. Or so impairs it as too little. In the years of Communism it is not clear that one would wisely have exchanged the restraints on freedom of the resident of East Berlin for those imposed by poverty on the poorest citizens of the South Bronx in New York. Meanwhile, nothing so inspires socially useful effort as the prospect of pecuniary reward, both for what it procures and not rarely for the pleasure of pure possession it accords. This too the good society must acknowledge; these motivations are controlling.
As there are shaping forces, some deep in human nature, that must be accepted, so there are constraints that the good society cannot, must not, accept. Socially desirable change is regularly denied out of well-recognized self-interest. In the most important current case, the comfortably affluent resist public action for the poor because of the threat of increased taxes or the failure of a promise of tax reduction. This, the good society cannot accept. The seemingly decisive constraint here, in fact, is a political attitude that supports and sustains the very conditions that require correction. When it is said that some action may be good but is politically impractical, it must be understood that this is the common design for protecting a socially adverse interest.
It is the nature of privileged position that it develops its own political justification and often the economic and social doctrine that serves it best. No one likes to believe that his or her personal well-being is in conflict with the greater public need. To invent a plausible or, if necessary, a moderately implausible ideology in defense of self-interest is thus a natural course. A corps of willing and talented craftsmen is available for the task. And such ideology gains greatly in force as those who are favored increase in number. The pages that follow contend with but do not respect this broad tendency. Their purpose is to challenge it wherever, as is often the case, it stands against the larger and more urgent public need.
CHAPTER 2
The Wider Screen
In a book published a few years ago, I observed that in the rich countries of the world, and notably in the United States, there was a new political dialectic. Once there was employer versus employed; the capitalist, great and less great, versus the working masses, the latter in varying relationship with landlords, peasantry and in the United States the independent farmers. There was always effort to put the opposing interests in benign terms: the system as a whole served the interest of all; the overriding role of constitutional democracy protected liberties and ensured a reasonably peaceful resolution of the inherent differences; everything was for the best.
There was, nonetheless, conflict implicit in all reputable economic and political thought. It shaped the development of modern politics in the United States, Western Europe and Japan. On the one hand, there were the liberals, as they were called in the United States; the socialists and social democrats, as elsewhere they were named; on the other, asserting or accepting the business interest, the conservatives. There were many variants in practical politics, concessions from one side to the other, often reluctantly extracted. Wider issues — peace and war, religious commitment, ethnic and racial equality — intruded. In the United States a large rural population helped to mellow the conflict. Always present, however, was the basic, the ultimate, dichotomy: capital versus labor. That, to repeat, was assumed in all political discourse and action.
Now it can be assumed no longer. The old dichotomy survives in the public psyche — the residue of its long and ardent history. But in the modern economy and polity the division is very different, and this is so in all the economically advanced countries. On one side, there are now the rich, the comfortably endowed and those so aspiring, and on the other the economically less fortunate and the poor, along with the considerable number who, out of social concern or sympathy, seek to speak for them or for a more compassionate world. This is the economic and political alignment today.
The rich and the well situated are now far more numerous and diverse than the erstwhile capitalist class, and they are also politically much more articulate. (The great capitalists were often slightly reticent as to their public role and interest.) The less favored are the poverty-stricken of the great cities, those who staff the service industries, the unemployable and the unemployed. And those who suffer from residual racial, gender or age discrimination or who are recent and sometimes illegal immigrants. All are largely without political voice except as they are supported and represented by the considerable number in the more fortunate brackets who feel and express concern.
Here in briefest form is the modern political dialectic. It is an unequal contest: the rich and the comfortable have influence and money. And they vote. The concerned and the poor have numbers, but many of the poor, alas, do not vote. There is democracy, but in no slight measure it is a democracy of the fortunate.
A defining issue between these two groupings, as is well recognized, is the role of government. For the poor, the government can be central to their well-being, and for some even to survival. For the rich and the comfortable, it is a burden save when, as in the case of military expenditure, Social Security and the rescue of failed financial institutions, it serves their particular interest. Then it ceases to be burdensome and becomes a social necessity, a social good, as certainly it is not when the government serves the poor.
In the congressional and state elections in the autumn of 1994, there was a massive swing to the political right in the United States. The principal issue was the just mentioned role of government and its cost, always with the exceptions already noted. The victory was not quite as significant in quantitative terms as has sometimes been suggested. Fewer than half of those eligible went to the polls; the prevailing candidates won with slightly less than one quarter of the eligible vote. While The Good Society had been under way for some time prior to the election, the outcome of the latter sharply affirmed the purpose of the book, which is to state in as clear terms as possible what should be the goal not for the fortunate but for all.
This may now seem outside the limits of the achievable as they were earlier discussed. One may be sure that those who define politics in terms of the seemingly practical will so believe and certainly so say. The trend of the time is in the opposite direction. Let romance not disguise reality: in the United States one influential part of the media defines as truth the currently popular political attitude.
This is to ignore a far deeper truth — to fail to appreciate the more fundamental thrust of history, which is greater than current action and reaction and has a controlling influence of its own. It is the pride of liberals and the political conviction of conservatives that they shape the social agenda; in fact, it is shaped by the deeper trends of history. To these there must be accommodation, and liberals, social democrats and those called socialists in the advanced countries have traditionally made or guided this accommodation. In consequence, to them has been attributed the larger change; some, indeed many, have taken credit therefor, and conservatives have all but universally awarded them responsibility and blame. But, in reality, it is history that is in control. The briefest look at the basic circumstances readily establishes the point.
Until the early decades of the present century the United States was predominantly a rural country. As late as the Great Depression, approaching half of all gainfully employed workers were in agriculture. Many more were in small-scale merchant, service and other village enterprises. In this economic and social context there was no urgent need for Social Security, one of the great transforming steps of the time, for here the next generation looked after the last. Or from the sale of the farm or small business came the wherewithal, life expectancy being what it was, to support the relatively brief retirement. It was the longer life span provided by modern medicine but, more important, the rise of urban industry and employment, not liberals or socialists, that created the pressure for Social Security.
It was also industrial and urban development that made unemployment a problem. In traditional agriculture it did not exist; there was always work to do on the farms and in the supporting rural services. (In the Depression farm employment or farm existence of a sort was the resort of some millions of urban workers in the United States.) Because of industrial development and urbanization, unemployment compensation became essential.
Modern medical insurance is also the offspring of history. Until relatively recent times medical knowledge was limited, as was the possibility of remedial effect. The local doctor had little to sell; death was early, inevitable and inexpensive. It was the enormous growth and improvement in medical and surgical procedures that made health insurance both necessary and desirable. This was the ultimate and motivating force. Death would no longer be the automatic prognosis for the poor or the only moderately affluent.
The simple living standard of earlier and by no means distant times posed few problems as to product safety or reliability. Basic foods, clothing, house room could all be appraised quite adequately by the purchaser; no deeper information was required. Until recently agriculture and elementary industry had little adverse environmental effect, and neither did their marketing outlets and suppliers. Now, with the expansion and complexity of the economy, consumers must be protected, along with the environment.
But there is more. The poor in the United States, while none could doubt their degradation and misery, were once largely invisible — poor blacks were hidden away on the farms and plantations of the rural South with primitive food, clothing and shelter, little in the way of education and no civil rights. Many poor whites were unseen on the hills and in the hollows of Appalachia. Poverty was not a problem when distant, out of sight. Only as economic, political and social change brought the needy to the cities did welfare become a public concern, the poor now living next to and in deep contrast with the relatively affluent.
The force of history extends to foreign policy. Before the United States became a world power, the Department of State was a small, comfortable enclave of well-bred gentlemen pursuing an effortless routine of no great consequence. It was only with the emergence of the United States as a major player on the international scene and the breakup of the colonial world, leading on to the problems and the conflicts of the poor countries, to the question of economic assistance and the more than occasional necessity for intervention to restore peace and tranquillity, that foreign policy became a major preoccupation.
Here then is the error: in the common view of both liberals and conservatives in the United States, it is the liberals who have made government a large, intrusive force. Both groups wish to believe that it is political decision and action that are controlling. And from this comes the prime conservative notion that social and economic policy can be reversed, a view held not alone in the United States but in France, Canada and for long years in Britain, where there is or has been a similar belief among the Tories.
History, the truly relevant source of change, will not be reversed. The new Congress that came to office in the United States in early 1995 representing the conservative will expressed its intention to dismantle much of the welfare state, much of the modern regulatory apparatus of government, and to limit drastically the role of government in general. This was the broad promise broadly enunciated. Then came the specific legislation, the assault on particular functions and regulations. As this is written, these are proving far from popular; once more we see the not unusual conflict between broad theory and specific action. Some dramatic and well-publicized exceptions possibly apart, the welfare state and its basic programs will survive. The larger force of history is still at work.
(Continues...) Excerpted from The Good Society by John Kenneth Galbraith. Copyright © 1996 John Kenneth Galbraith. Excerpted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company.
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