Propelled Toward Change : Political Pandering: A Time-Honored Tradition in the All-American Way

A new orthodoxy has emerged in recent years among the nation’s chattering classes. One hears it from the press, policy experts, even leaders of both political parties. It has attained the status of conventional wisdom. It tells a story, if you will, of the nation’s current predicament.

The story goes like this: Americans have lived beyond their means, consuming too much. We have avoided the tough choices, running up a huge national debt. We must now tighten our belts and sacrifice to get the nation back on track.

Standing in the way of this virtuous path are politicians, who pander to voters’ self-interest instead of making these tough decisions. George Bush and Bill Clinton are shining examples, crisscrossing the country promising whatever they think will get votes. If only leaders would do what is right, instead of what people want, all would be well.

It’s become a familiar tale, this New Elitism. Its moral high-mindedness makes it seductively persuasive. But in reality, it is nothing more than a particular--and highly questionable--economic analysis masquerading as objective truth. Still worse is the notion that we suffer a crisis of too much, rather than too little, public accountability. At a time when the nation desperately needs a reinvigorated political life, our leaders betray a profound contempt for democracy itself.

This story is fundamentally a morality play. Its lesson concerns the dangers of “pandering”--defined as a shrewd vote-getting tactic, wherein a politician takes a position thought to be shared by average people. This ostensibly reflects said politician’s deep cynicism. A corrupt cycle is set in motion, as officials shamelessly seek to improve people’s lives in hope of gaining reelection.

Pandering is a uniquely political notion. Companies, for example, do not “pander” when they offer a product people want. That’s good business. But while people are presumed competent to choose blue jeans or automobiles, they apparently can’t be trusted to choose the public policies that shape their future.

The true villains are thus the voters. It is a story of virtuous--if occasionally weak--elites, and selfish masses--the “pandees.” To the New Elitism, this means such people as union members, women, the elderly and veterans--the dreaded “special interests” who feast greedily at the public trough.

This represents a truly Orwellian inversion of political language. Once upon a time, “special interests” referred to powerful economic forces, such as large corporations and trade associations. Now, the agenda of such groups--such as the capital-gains tax cut--is thought to be synonymous with the “public interest.” In the perverse lexicography of the New Elitism, it is millions of votes, not dollars, that denotes a special interest.

The New Elitism distorts history as well as language. Consider some famous historical panders: the eight-hour day, rural electrification, the national park system, urban mass transit, Medicare and most of the nation’s infrastructure. It is no exaggeration to say that pandering lay behind most of our great public improvements. Without it, ordinary people wouldn’t get anything of value from government. Economic elites, on the other hand, will always get their share.

The antonym for “pandering” in the New Elite dictionary is “political leadership.” This can only be demonstrated by embracing widely unpopular positions. A model of this leadership style is Paul “I’m No Santa Claus” Tsongas, a kind of high priest for the New Elitism. During his presidential run, Tsongas routinely faulted other candidates for saying “what people want to hear, instead of what they need to hear.”

Well, Tsongas certainly didn’t do the former. Although it is now commonplace to talk of his strong showing, Tsongas was badly crushed in Democratic primaries outside New England. What support he did get came from affluent, well-educated voters. His trouncing confirmed the elite’s contempt for the voters, and reaffirmed their own moral superiority. Having followers is no longer required for leadership--in fact, it’s a disqualification!

In this upside-down view, popularity and correctness are not simply unrelated attributes--already a rather striking challenge to democratic theory. They are actually polar opposites. Good policy will be unpopular, by definition.

This stands the entire theory of representative democracy on its head. We surrender tremendous power to politicians only because they periodically have to solicit our support. It is that incentive system that, however crudely, eventually translates our preferences into real policies. Why else would we trust officials to pursue our interests? Without pandering, we have no democracy.

And just what is the program that voters are rejecting? The favored phrase is “tough choices,” like these recently suggested by the New York Times: “The only way out is for most people to pay higher taxes, for popular government programs to be cut and for medical care to be rationed.” Lower wages and further loss of manufacturing jobs are often prescribed as well. Tough choices--and its folksier cousin “belt-tightening”--are really polite ways to say austerity. Echoing the best and brightest of another era, today’s elite aims to save America’s standard of living by destroying it.

In fact, pain is not merely an unfortunate byproduct, it is the mark of good policy. Clinton and Bush are criticized for offering only “painless, inadequate” solutions--painless and inadequate being synonymous in the new discourse. No pain, no gain. While America’s chattering classes have become ecumenical in recent years, admitting many non-WASPs, a Protestant sensibility apparently must still be absorbed before entry is allowed. The New Elitists always have one question: Have we stopped having fun yet?

Behind this call for pain is an assumption about the past decade: It has been one of indulgence. To the fortunate top 20%, the decade was indeed kind. But for most of America, it has been a time of stagnant incomes. Profits have risen, but not wages. The Dow Jones is up, but leisure time is down. Taxes on the wealthy have shrunk, but actually rose for average income earners.

In fact, for 20 years the standard of living for large segments of American society have stayed flat or declined. When the elite says, “We have lived too well,” most Americans respond as modern-day Tontos: “What you mean ‘we,’ rich man?” Their belts are plenty tight.

This disparity explains the public’s skepticism regarding frequent elite calls for “shared sacrifice.” It hasn’t been shared so far, so why now? Looking at the agenda of the new consensus, this doubt appears merited. It calls for higher taxes on “consumption,” lower taxes on “investment.” Left unmentioned is that there’s no way to do this without exacerbating the nation’s growing income inequality.

We also don’t hear much about raising inheritance taxes, an obvious deficit-reduction step targeted at a group that can afford to sacrifice: the dead rich. Perhaps that’s because the chattering classes--many of them baby boomers or a little older--are about to be on the receiving end of the greatest wealth transfer in the world’s history. As their parents die, they stand to collectively inherit $4 trillion. Taxing gasoline or beer is courageous political leadership, but try to take a chunk of Daddy’s estate and you’re a demagogue. How shared is this sacrifice?

In fact, most American families make tough choices all the time. Some are small: Will they see a movie or eat dinner out--they can’t afford both. Some are large: Can Mom afford to stay home with the new baby? For those who don’t face such choices, to suggest that they alone are fit to make the hard decisions is chutzpah of awe-inspiring proportions.

You would think a leadership class that had presided over two decades of economic stagnation might rethink its ideas. But they offer the same old stuff: deregulation, incentives for “capital formation,” more reductions in living standards. And you would think leaders who have consistently failed to see emerging problems--rising income inequality, the savings-and-loan fiasco--might show some humility. But they seem more concerned with blaming the public than engaging in the reassessment their failures warrant.

Americans are not rejecting the idea of making choices, or even of sacrifice, They are rejecting the “false choices” offered by their leaders. They are asked to pay more for rationed health care--yet Americans already pay more for less inclusive health coverage than any other industrialized nation. They are told to accept lower wages and short-term job loss for the good of the economy--though this same strategy has been in place for nearly two decades, to little avail.

The question today is not when will the public awaken to the real problems, but when will leaders start the “tough” job of fashioning better choices. Voters are demanding universal health care at reasonable prices. They are asking for more efficient delivery of government services. They are looking beyond symptoms like the deficit, to core issues like improving education and rebuilding the manufacturing base. And they seem prepared to politically reward anyone who can offer those things.

Let those up to the task step forward, and let democracy work. And may the best panderers win.