On Getting Rich

Surprise, surprise! Mitt Romney is rich! His tax returns reveal that he is a multi-millionaire who is still deriving tens of millions of dollars annually from his investments. Did anyone think otherwise? So why the outrage? Shouldn’t a man who advertises himself as a successful businessperson have the income to prove it?
Nor would he be alone in his wealth if he makes it to being president. George Washington, Franklin Roosevelt, and John Kennedy all got there before him. But of these, Romney is the only one who made his own money.
I came of age under the assumption that almost anyone could become rich in America. This is not quite true, but the opportunities for upward social mobility are real and substantial. In fact, a large proportion of our wealthiest citizens have made their own fortunes—including Bill Gates and Steve Jobs.
I also grew up believing that Americans did not begrudge successful people their achievements. Whereas envy was widespread in other nations, in ours most people hoped to join this elite. Having bought into the American Dream, they assumed that their own actions could lift them above the station into which they were born.
But now class warfare is abroad in the land. Largely thanks to the efforts of Democratic politicians and media pundits, millions of people believe they are being cheated if others do better than themselves. They do not seem to realize that Jobs’ success benefited them; i.e., that had he not brought I-pods, I-phones, and I-pads to market, they would have been less well-off.
Bain Capital has become a bugaboo, but I wonder if the folks working for Staples would agree? Yes, Romney has grown rich, but they too have money in their pockets they might not have had. The same applies to police officers whose pension funds were invested with Bain. They too profited from Romney’s business acumen.
Nevertheless, let me change the subject to riches per se. And let me start here by admitting that I am not rich. As a college professor, I receive a modest income. Given the iniquities of the system, this is probably less than I deserve—but I am not complaining.
How could I in light of the fact that I voluntarily chose my profession? My brother, who is a lawyer, makes several times what I do; hence I—perhaps vainly—assume that had I chosen a different career path I might have done better in monetary terms.
But I made the choice I did—and I would make it again. My eyes were not closed to the economic implications of becoming an academic. I decided to do what I loved, irrespective of the financial consequences. So far as I am concerned, there are other ways to achieve personal satisfaction than having the largest bank account in the neighborhood.
In fact, I never wanted to be rich. The Prius I drive suits me better than a chauffer-driven limousine. And the food that I eat, given that I am a good cook and there are many fine restaurants in north Georgia, is the sort of fare I desire.
So why would I envy Mitt Romney? What does he have, which I do not, that would make my life less burdensome?
Is it his big house? I don’t think so. A bigger dwelling would be too difficult to navigate. Is it his live-in a cook? No, once again I am happy with the status quo. Indeed, I would miss my homemade chicken paprikash.
Being wealthy does not imply a great leap in personal comfort. I, for instance, would resent having a valet lay out my clothing. Likewise, battalions of servants would be a nuisance that interfered with my spontaneity. So why would I want them?
Better yet, why do so many others resent the fact that relatively small numbers of people do have them? Furthermore, is this a reason to insist that we tax them down to our level? Does it really make sense to deprive them of the means to invest in new jobs?
As importantly, would it be to our advantage to deny the presidency to a person who could lead us out of a recession—just because he is rich?
Melvyn L. Fein. Ph.D.
Professor of Sociology
Kennesaw State University

Concern for the Poor

Many years ago I worked as a reporter for the Hudson Dispatch. The paper was located in Union City, New Jersey, just across the river from New York. As a result, the area it served was very urban and, in many cases, very poor.
This was also at the height of Lyndon Johnson’s war on poverty; hence it came as no surprise when I was assigned to cover a meeting called by poverty workers to organize the poor. The goal was to empower the downtrodden so that they could demand the benefits that were rightly theirs.
The theory upon which this intervention was based assumed that the poor are poor because the rich keep them that way. It was therefore up to members of the underclass to force this uncaring elite to share their undeserved affluence. Only if the wealthy had their arms twisted, would they disgorge their ill-gotten gains.
Once I got to the meeting, I found the hall packed. There was standing room only, with perhaps a hundred and fifty persons present. Then, the meeting was called to order by its governmentally sponsored organizers. They wanted to know what these poor people needed in order to improve their situation.
At this, pandemonium broke out. It seemed that everyone in the room had an answer that required an immediate hearing. From front to back, virtually everyone stood up to shout out what they believed. So vociferous was this cacophony that no one was able to hear what anyone else said.
These folks were not from the middle class, therefore, they were not accustomed to turn taking. As a consequence, the meeting never did settle down. Indeed, so raucous did it become that it had to be canceled.
Now we are hearing Mitt Romney condemned because he said he did not care about the poor. It did not matter that he quickly amended his words to say that his concentration was on the middle class, but that he would make certain he maintained, and repaired, the current social safety net.
Meanwhile, Newt Gingrich, sensing an opportunity, asserted that he most certainly did care about the poor and would provide them, not with a safety net, but a trampoline, so that they could rise in society.
Gingrich’s words, however, were no more than policy by way of metaphor. What, after all, was the trampoline of which he spoke? The safety net consists of welfare, food stamps, Medicaid, and so forth. It may not be deserve rave reviews, but what it is, is known.
If by the trampoline, Gingrich meant jobs, how was he going to supply them? And did he really believe that Romney—who has promised to revive the economy—was going to prevent the poor from getting jobs thereby created? Both clearly intend to increase the middle class by lifting millions out of poverty.
The problem is that it is difficult to help the poor. Caring alone has never been enough. Even the war on poverty, despite expending trillions of dollars, was unable to get the job done. Like it or not, the poor have a way of undermining their own life chances.
We, in sociology, have been fighting over these issues for over a century. Having worked with the poor, I am among those who believe that a culture of poverty is one of the reasons why many people do not do for themselves what they could do if they put their minds to it. Many of my colleagues, however, condemn this attitude as “blaming the victim.” They claim that I am without compassion.
But I say (along with Mitt?) that there are some things only people can do for themselves. I believe, that no matter how many kind words, or trillions of dollars in transfer payments, are on offer, if they don’t help themselves, no one else can.
As a college professor, I see this in action in my classrooms. Many of my students come from disadvantaged backgrounds. But many of these have committed themselves to using a college education to provide them with an economic leg up.
Nonetheless, some don’t take advantage of this opportunity. They don’t study! What of them? Who is responsible if they don’t get out of poverty? Me? Or Mitt? Or rich people in general?
Melvyn L. Fein. Ph.D.
Professor of Sociology
Kennesaw State University

The Triumph of Evil

Ever since the South Carolina primary, I have been consumed by anger and dismay. That so many good people could have voted for a politician as scurrilous as New Gingrich strikes me as an auger of very rough times ahead.
I am reminded of an observation generally attributed to Edmund Burke. He is often quoted as saying, “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.” Sadly, in South Carolina good people did more than ignore evil: they enthusiastically endorsed it.
As I have previously acknowledged, I am not a religious man. Nevertheless, I have frequently made common cause with evangelicals because we share so many fundamental values. One of these—I had thought—was a belief in the sanctity of marriage. As it turns out, I may have been mistaken.
Years ago, when feminists dismissed marriage as an oppressive and soon-to-be extinct institution, religious folks leaped to the defense of a tradition that they described as essential for the survival of civilized society. At the time, I admired their steadfast courage in the face of liberal ridicule.
Evidently, attitudes have changed. When Newt Gingrich brazenly dismissed his marital failures as the slips of an imperfect human being, evangelicals agreed that this was no one’s business but his. That the man had voluntarily dived into a pool of slime did not alter their opinion that the media should have kept these matters private.
Gingrich seems to have treated marriage as one might toilet paper; that is, as something to be used and discarded as one desires. Once a partner no longer served his needs, he was eager to move on. Not for him the notion that matrimony entails a pledge to remain faithful.
Yet each time that he slipped, he defended himself by claiming that he had discovered religion. I am reminded, however, of the Bible-thumping televangelists who on Sunday morning loudly proclaim their piety, then in the evening prowl red light districts intent on cavorting with prostitutes.
Does anyone doubt that these hypocritical pastors are more concerned with filling their coffers than with providing a model of moral conduct? By the same token, does anyone doubt that Newt’s religious conversions are anything more than a political ploy?
Let us do a thought experiment. Let’s assume that a person has witnessed a murder, and then walks away without any emotional reaction to what has occurred. He/she does not get angry at the murderer, but takes the whole nasty business in stride.
Does this person genuinely believe that murder is wrong? Even if he/she later declares that it is, is this an honest statement of fact? My conclusion is that it is not! People who are not offended by murder do not really think it is wrong. And the same goes for marital infidelity. Those who behave as if it were no big deal don’t consider it a serious moral violation.
For Newt Gingrich, the Ten Commandments are apparently just the Ten Suggestions. Since he is a politician, I find this understandable; albeit unacceptable. For me, it is evidence that he is a slippery toad who does not deserve to be elected dogcatcher.
But when evangelicals adopt the same attitude, I grow frightened. I wonder if this is evidence of a potentially fatal social decadence. Can people who take pride in their moral commitments be so oblivious to corruption and deceit? If so, who is to defend the gates against hordes of self-serving demagogues?
Many of the South Carolina voters seemingly decided to cast their lot with a man they believed capable of out-arguing Barack Obama. I think they were mistaken, but worse—much worse— they had apparently concluded that what is needed is a debater-in-chief, not a commander-in-chief.
Call me old fashioned, but I believe that a president should be a moral role model. That, of course, is not enough. Yet it an essential starting point. I still remember those grammar school lessons about George Washington’s personal rectitude. Back then, I found his example inspiring—and I still do.
Newt Gingrich, needless to say, is no George Washington.
Melvyn L. Fein. Ph.D.
Professor of Sociology
Kennesaw State University

Two Theories of Social Justice

Rest assured, disputes over what comprises social justice are going to arise during the upcoming presidential campaign. The Democrats, in particular, are going to assert that they are the paladins of social justice; that only they can protect the little guy from exploitation.
The validity of this claim, however, rests on how we understand “social justice.” To this end, let us examine two rival views. These may be summarized as the “Robin Hood” and the “Three Little Pigs” theories.
In the Robin Hood version, it is necessary to steal from the rich to give to the poor. According to it, because wealth is unequally distributed, a champion must level the playing field. Only this person can correct unfairness by forcing the affluent to disgorge their ill-gotten gains.
This theory is obviously favored by the Democrats. They insist that everyone must pay their “fair share” and therefore increased taxes must be levied on the upper one percent. Only this can provide a modicum of decency.
In contrast, the Little Pigs version of justice allows the players to keep what they earn. It notes that of the three pigs, only the industrious one invested the effort into building a house of bricks and therefore only his dwelling resisted the efforts of the Big, Bad Wolf to turn him into a pork dinner.
The Republicans favor this parable in that they too believe individuals deserve to benefit from their own efforts. For them, justice is not about achieving full equality, but about guarding human rights—including property rights.
If we translate these theories into contemporary politics, then Barack Obama hopes to play the Robin Hood role. There is, however, a small problem with this. Barack is the president. In this sense, he is the sheriff. He is not a humble outlaw seeking to redress governmental wrongs, but can draw upon the coercive power of the state to enforce his mandates.
Yet, what if we do regard Obama as an outlaw. He has, after all, flouted the constitution at many turns. Then does he, like Robin Hood, get to pick those whom he plunders, as well as those upon whom he showers his favor? Might he, for instance, choose to force one company into bankruptcy while forgiving the debts of another—that is, as long its owners contributed to his campaign?
And what of those Republican pigs? They are presumed to be irredeemably selfish, yet the original little pigs presented a different picture. The industrious pig, it will be remembered, offered his siblings the shelter of his abode. They came to his sturdier house for protection against the wolf.
In the real world, it turns out that conservatives give far more to charity than liberals. They may believe in private property, but that does not mean they are without compassion. The difference is in how people are helped. On the one side, individuals provide succor, while on the other, virtually all assistance is channeled through the federal government?
But what if the latter took over? What if we decided that only the government should provide fairness? With respect to the three little pigs, would this translate into Obama decreeing that each pig be provided with exactly the same number of bricks?
Let’s, however, take this supposition a step further. In taking bricks from the industrious pig, wouldn’t this leave him with too few to build a substantial structure? And, as to the other pigs, what guarantees that they will use their bricks to improve their dwellings?
In the end, the probable outcome of this arbitrarily enforced equality is three ramshackle edifices and one very well fed wolf.
If this sounds absurd, we have, in fact, witnessed the outcome of government enforced social justice elsewhere. It occurred in the old Soviet Union. There the government controlled all of the strings and distributed goods according to formulae of its own devising.
So what did people wind up with? As history records, they were rewarded with both poverty and tyranny. Or, as the libertarian John Hospers used to say, they were well on their way to “splendidly equalized destitution.” —Some justice!
Melvyn L. Fein. Ph.D.
Professor of Sociology
Kennesaw State University