Losing More Ground

During the heyday of the Roman Empire, its rulers sought to keep the inhabitants of its capital city from engaging in an insurrection.  The emperors did not want to be overthrown by a mob of proletarians.  And so, they sought to keep the lower classes distracted.

The method used was “bread and circuses.”  Gladiators, who sometimes fought to the death, riveted the attention of the poor in the Coliseum.  Charioteers, who often threw caution to the wind, similarly elicited raucous cheers in the Hippodrome.  This fun was free.  So were the many holidays where work could be set aside.

Nor was there fear of hunger.  Free grain poured in from Egypt.  Insurgencies still occurred, but their source was either the Praetorian Guard or ambitious generals fresh from the provinces.

In the long run, this policy had disastrous consequences.  Ordinary Romans no longer volunteered for service in the legions.  There was no need to.  Barbarians instead filled the ranks.  They remained lean and hungry and hence were motivated to take military chances.

Eventually a majority of officers were also Barbarians, whose primary allegiance was directed toward their tribes.  Given this development, it should not be surprising that Rome fell.  With few homegrown defenders, there was no one left to resist the thuggish hordes.

Is this to be the fate of the United States?  Will we emulate the strategies that brought Rome to its knees?  In fact, some surprising proponents have advocated schemes that are likely to have this effect.

One of these is the political scientist Charles Murray.  Years ago, this prescient observer wrote a book called Losing Ground.  In it he argued that generous welfare programs were sapping the strength of the poor.  Rather than raising people into the middle classes, extravagant benefits encouraged dependency.

People, who got free money, did not worry about holding down jobs.  Parents, who obtained additional stipends for every child they had, did not fret about supporting sizeable families.  Although they did not live well, their motivation to move ahead had been undermined.

As a former caseworker for the New York City Department of Welfare, I knew this to be true.  Scores of my clients declined offers of employment, so as not to put their checks in jeopardy.  This tactic placed bread on their tables, but prevented them from improving their circumstances.

Now Murray, in accord with Facebook’s Mark Zuckerberg, is promoting a guaranteed income for all.  He suggests that every adult in America be given ten thousand dollars annually.  They would not have to work for this; they would simply receive it as an entitlement.

My rejoinder is that I cannot think of a better way to eradicate the motivation to work.  An overly generous safety net has already removed millions from the workforce.  Why would we want to extend this to the whole of society?

The young, of course, love the idea.  It would enable them to break free of their parents.  As yet unsure about their economic prospects, it would likewise protect them from abject failure.  Many of the poor also like the idea.  It would normalize their condition and remove the stigma of public assistance.

Nonetheless, we humans often need to be motivated to perform unpleasant tasks.  Take away the incentive provided by a dread of starvation and we decline to engage in them.  Yes, retaining this fear means that some people would experience insecurities.  And yes, this would be disagreeable.  But it is a spur that many frequently require.

Lots of folks fantasize about a life filled with unearned luxuries.  They imagine that an unending vacation, replete with skiing trips and lavish yachts, would be ideal.  What they forget is our need for achievement.  Indolent layabouts are not respected—even by themselves.

Our current affluence has therefore placed us in a quandary.  We are rich enough to support millions of individuals who never contribute to our joint welfare.  What is more, many of them are clamoring for this indulgence.  Even so, is it good for them—or us?

Don’t we require our children to wait for dessert until they finish their vegetables?  Shouldn’t this apply to adults as well?  Shouldn’t everyone be expected to put in effort on our joint behalf?  If not, won’t our civilization be headed for abrupt decay?

Melvyn L. Fein, Ph.D.

Professor of Sociology

Kennesaw State University