Jeffrey A. Winters
Democratic institutions aren't sufficient in themselves to keep the wealthy few from concentrating political power.
It is a confounding moment in American political history. On the one
hand, evidence of democratic possibilities is undeniable. In 2008,
millions of Americans helped catapult a man of half-African descent into
the White House long before observers thought the nation was “ready.”
Democratic movements have won major victories in recent decades,
spreading civil rights, improving the status of women and ending
unpopular wars. This is the continuation of a trend with deep roots in
American history, reaching back at least to the Jacksonian era, of
extending the equality principle into American culture at large.
On the other hand, democracy appears chronically dysfunctional when it
comes to policies that impinge on the rich. Despite polls consistently
showing that large majorities favor increasing taxes on the wealthiest
Americans, policy has been moving for decades in the opposite direction.
Reduced taxes on the ultra-rich and the corporations and banks they
dominate have shifted fiscal burdens downward even as they have strained
the government’s capacity to maintain infrastructure, provide relief to
children and the poor, and assist the elderly.
Everyone is by now aware of the staggering shift in fortunes upward
favoring the wealthy. Less well understood is that this rising
inequality is not the result of something economically rational, such as
a surge in productivity or value-added contributions from financiers
and hedge-fund CEOs, but is rather a direct reflection of redistributive
policies that have helped the richest get richer.
Such outcomes are inexplicable on standard, commonly understood
democratic grounds. The tiny proportion of wealthy actors among eligible
voters cannot account for the immense political firepower needed to
keep winning these policy victories. While motivated and mobilized
minorities—those organized over issues like gay marriage, for
example—can sometimes win legislative victories despite broad opposition
from the electorate, America’s ultra-rich all together could barely
fill a large sports stadium. They never assemble for rallies or marches,
sign petitions, or mount Facebook or Twitter campaigns. So how do they
so consistently get their way?
One increasingly popular answer is that America is an oligarchy rather than a democracy.
1 The complex truth, however, is that the American political economy is both an oligarchy
and
a democracy; the challenge is to understand how these two political
forms can coexist in a single system. Sorting out this duality begins
with a recognition of the different kinds of power involved in each
realm. Oligarchy rests on the concentration of material power, democracy
on the dispersion of non-material power. The American system, like many
others, pits a few with money power against the many with participation
power. The chronic problem is not just that electoral democracy
provides few constraints on the power of oligarchs in general, but that
American democracy is by design particularly responsive to the power of
money (a point Adam Garfinkle makes clear in his introduction to
The American Interest’s January/February 2011 issue on Plutocracy and Democracy).
2
Oligarchy within Democracy
When democracy combines with oligarchy, the result is a distinctive
fusion of equality and inequality. This is what sets the current debate
about oligarchs and the power of the rich apart from the debate that
erupted in the 1950s over “power elites.” The claim then was that the
United States was dominated by a tiny segment of the population that
commanded major institutions across society and shared privileges of
status, education, access and comfortable living standards. Elite
theorists like C. Wright Mills devoted great energy to mapping how the
power elite were densely networked, and thus politically suspect.
Pluralists led by Robert Dahl at Yale responded by granting that
American democracy had plenty of inequality built into it. Some actors
and institutions were unusually powerful, but always in ways that were
competitive and crosscutting. Pluralists argued that the linkages mapped
by elite theorists did not amount to cohesion. Although various strands
of elites constituted influential minorities, no pernicious or
consensual political thread could be shown to run through them. There
were powerful Republicans with the expected
laissez faire
proclivities, but there were also influential Democrats who paid homage
to or were even evangelizers for the latter-day social gospel agenda.
The conclusion was that American democracy had elites, but no coherent
elite agenda.
The current focus on oligarchs is different. Unlike elites, who are
empowered in diverse ways and are oriented toward diverse ends,
oligarchs are defined more uniformly by the power of money. Concentrated
wealth serves as both the source of oligarchic power and the motivation
to exercise it. Unlike any other power resource, wealth unites
oligarchs politically around a core set of shared interests because,
throughout human civilization, great riches have always attracted
threats. Whatever their political disagreements, oligarchs in America,
as elsewhere, are motivated and connected by the desire to deflect
threats to their fortunes. Being networked certainly augments the
influence of oligarchs, but coordination is not the primary source of
their political power.
Oligarchy should be understood as the politics of wealth defense, which
has evolved in important ways throughout human civilization. For most of
history, this has meant oligarchs were focused on defending their
claims to property. They did so by arming themselves or by ruling
directly and jointly over armed forces they assembled and funded. Every
great increase in wealth required oligarchs to spend additional
resources on armaments, castles, militias and other means of defense.
The greatest transformation in the politics of wealth defense and thus
of oligarchy came with the rise of the modern state. Through its
impersonal system of laws, the armed modern state converted individual
oligarchic property claims into secure societal property rights. In
exchange, oligarchs disarmed and submitted to the same protective legal
infrastructure that applied to all citizens (in theory if not always in
practice). Property rights offered reliable safeguards not only against
potential antagonists without property, but also, no less important,
against other oligarchs and the armed state itself that administered the
entire arrangement.
This new formula for political economy had several major consequences.
One was that it created the mistaken impression that there were no
longer any oligarchs, only wealthy people with no shared political
motivation; yet this illusion is proved false every time states in the
modern era fail to protect property and wealthy people re-arm or hire
private militias once again to do the oligarchic job themselves. Another
consequence is that the transformation shifted rather than fully solved
the broader problem of wealth defense for contemporary oligarchs. The
legal state made property inviolable, but in many cases it also
aggressively targeted income and, occasionally, wealth via taxation.
This was “taking” of a different kind.
Indeed, progressive taxation is the unique challenge to oligarchs in
democratic states. Heavier tax burdens on those most able to pay can
theoretically retard the pace at which the rich enlarge their estates,
and in extreme cases could even redistribute wealth downward. The story
of oligarchy in America has unfolded as a titanic battle over wealth
defense as oligarchs have sought to deflect tax burdens onto others in
society. With tens of billions of dollars at stake annually, the
struggle is politically charged for a small number of ultra-wealthy
Americans. While its intensity has ebbed and flowed throughout American
history, it is a battle oligarchs have been winning handily for the past
several decades. Again, the question is why.
Money and Power
There tends to be considerable ideological tension in the United States
when the discussion turns to money and power. The “class anonymous”
packaging of liberal democracy has been so prevalent that many Americans
balk at the mention of oligarchy and the anti-democratic power wielded
exclusively by the ultra-rich.
3 The regrettable detour into
power-elite theory only muddled the debate further. Yet the basic
understanding that concentrated wealth confers concentrated power,
whether in dictatorships or democracies, has a pedigree stretching back
at least to ancient Greece. James Harrington observed in the 1650s that
“where there is inequality of estates, there must be inequality of
power.” Much influenced by Harrington, John Adams wrote in 1776 that
“the balance of power in a society, accompanies the balance of property
in land.”
Riches have always been a source of power, and nothing about modern
societies or institutions fundamentally changes that reality. Neither
the shift in wealth away from landed estates nor the achievement of
universal suffrage has disrupted the fundamental nexus between money and
power. The essence of oligarchy within democracy rests on the near-veto
power oligarchs retain on threats to concentrated wealth. On all other
issues, oligarchs’ views and positions are as disunited and
democratically contested as those held by everyone else across the
society. Thus, there is no oligarchic stance on abortion, immigration or
the rights of women.
A full appreciation of oligarchy in America must begin with an estimate
of how much material power is concentrated in the hands of a tiny
minority. I call this a Material Power Index (MPI), which can be
approximated using both income and wealth data. The MPI assigns a base
value of one to the average material power position of Americans across
the bottom 90 percent of the population. The MPI of the richest strata
in society are a multiple of this base value. The accompanying tables
provide a snapshot of MPIs for the United States based on recent income
and wealth data.
Measured by income, oligarchs at the very top of American society have
an MPI just over 10,000, which happens to approximate the MPI of Roman
senators relative to their society of slaves and farmers. When measured
by wealth, the MPI for the richest Americans is 30,000 (it jumps to
50,000 if home equity is excluded). The weakest American oligarchs have
between 125 and 200 times the material power of an average citizen.
Beyond a certain level, the political meaning of these concentrations
of material power becomes too enormous to fathom, for there is no
precise algorithm for translating financial power into political power.
An oligarch with $1 million to deploy politically for wealth and income
defense is dramatically more powerful than someone who has only $100.
But an oligarch with a spare $1 billion to deploy may not be a thousand
times more powerful than one with $1 million. He may be more or less
powerful depending on a host of other contextual factors. It is clear,
however, that oligarchs in America, who constitute only a fraction of 1
percent of the population, have at their disposal material “voting”
power that is hundreds, and in some cases tens of thousands, of times
that of the average citizen. Such inequalities of power do not comport
with garden-variety notions of pluralism and democratic representation.
One might counter that despite these yawning asymmetries at the
individual level, average citizens with a modest MPI of one can still
muster the overwhelming power of their numbers in a democracy if they
band together and pool their material resources, say, to vote for
candidates favoring large social welfare programs. But poverty by itself
neither motivates nor provides a core set of common interests for the
poor the way wealth does for the rich. The presence of wealth focuses
the political attention of the rich on wealth defense; its absence has
no parallel effect on the poor or those of middling or lower than
middling income. Wealth is inherently empowering and motivating; poverty
is neither.
Thus, for the many to exercise their collective material power in a
manner oligarchs can while operating solo, they must first be actively
networked and coordinated and then remain in this state of mobilization
over extended periods. This inverts the common argument that oligarchs
are only potent politically if they form associations or conspire. In
fact, the reverse is true. The vast majority of citizens exert very
little concerted material power in politics. But a small number of
individuals each have at their disposal the resources it would take tens
of thousands of their fellow Americans acting in sustained coordination
to match.
A final and daunting aspect of wealth’s power is that it buys armies of
skilled professionals, not least lawyers and accountants, to pursue the
core political and social interests of the rich. These intermediaries
render the political engagement of oligarchs more indirect, obscure
their power from view, and shield them from scrutiny and accountability.
In democracies no less than in dictatorships, oligarchs experience
virtually no disruption of their daily lives as they employ and deploy
the best wealth defense money can buy. The duration and intensity of
this oligarchic power is limited mainly by the scale of resources the
richest Americans have at their disposal.
The Great American Inversion
How has this power been expressed in the United States over the past
century? The best window on oligarchy in America is the battle over
taxes, which for oligarchs means the politics of income defense. Not
surprisingly, this battle has also affected American income inequality
writ large.
Over the course of the 20
th century, two wrenching things
happened within American democracy and oligarchy that together
constitute the Great American Inversion. First, early in the century,
steep new income taxes were imposed exclusively on the rich. By the end
of the century, these same tax burdens had been shifted from the richest
Americans to the various strata below them.
Second and related, there was a sharp reversal of economic momentum for
average Americans and the rich. The average income of working-class
Americans around 1920 doubled in real terms by 1955 and tripled by 1970.
A growing American middle class was taking an ever-larger share of an
expanding economic pie. Although the chasm separating the rich from the
rest remained huge, ordinary citizens were closing the gap at a
remarkable pace. But then this process stopped. In the four decades
since 1970, there has been almost no improvement on average for the
lower 90 percent of American households. Although the U.S. economy
continued to grow, income stopped growing for average citizens. Adjusted
for inflation, average household incomes in 2010 were almost exactly
what they had been forty years earlier. They peaked and stopped in 1970
at “triple 1920.” Growth America became stagnation America.
The story was much different for America’s oligarchs. At first their
wealth shot up significantly during the 1920s. They were also busy in
that decade trying to roll back or deflect the new taxes aimed at them.
But then the Crash of 1929 hit them in the solar plexus. It is not that
oligarchs went to the poorhouse like almost everyone else. The rich
still enjoyed very luxurious lives, but their real gains across the next
several decades were very modest. One instructive thing about this
period of history is that oligarchic influence was weaker during deep
political-economic crises and wars than it was during the “politics of
the ordinary” between crises. It took decades after 1945 to reverse the
relative leveling effects of the Crash, the New Deal and the embryonic
welfare state of the Great Society.
During the long arc from 1920 to 1970, the top 1 percent of American
families moved up at barely half the pace of the average household. The
very richest families (the top 0.1 percent and 0.01 percent) were having
a hard time grabbing a larger share of the growing income pie for
themselves. By 1955, the real incomes of these two top strata were
actually 20 percent
lower than their 1915-–20 level. It was not
until 1970 that the ultra-rich were earning roughly the same real
incomes they had enjoyed half a century earlier.
And then, as suddenly as the improvements had come for mainstream
society, the new bonanza for the ultra-rich commenced. The decade from
1970–80 was the turning point in the Great American Inversion. This is
when the boom for the average household turned to bust and the rich
soared after decades of treading water. It is as if a big pause button
had been hit in 1970 for the bottom 90 percent at the same moment the
fast-forward button clicked on for oligarchs. The cumulative effect was
breathtaking. By 1990, real incomes for the top 1 percent exceeded the
1920 level threefold and continued to rise thereafter, while those of
the majority did not budge. Reversing the pattern of previous decades,
the richer you were, the faster gains accrued. It did not matter if
Democrats or Republicans were in charge of the White House or Congress.
By 2007, the top 1 percent of households had almost five times the real
income they had in 1920; the top 0.1 percent had around six times, and
the top 0.01 percent were awash in nearly ten times the real income they
had enjoyed nine decades earlier. The tables had turned.
Many analysts have pointed out the role of globalization, higher
international capital mobility and the related decline of unions in
causing this reversal of fortunes. What has gone largely unnoticed is
the compounding effect on these trends due to the increasingly
aggressive strategies of wealth defense on the part of oligarchs. As the
United States was becoming a tiger economy exclusively for the rich,
tax burdens on American oligarchs grew lighter by the decade. Meanwhile,
tax burdens on the strata below grew more regressive as average
Americans went from seeing rapid gains to being mired in economic
molasses and rising debt.
Before the Inversion
I
t is impossible to make sense of these transformations without
understanding how oligarchic power operates within American democracy. A
crucial part of the inversion story starts at the end of the 19
th
century. In an unprecedented blow to an emerging stratum of American
industrial oligarchs, Congress passed a new Federal income tax law in
1894 aimed narrowly at the richest fraction of taxpayers. All but 0.1
percent of citizens earning below a threshold of $100,000 in today’s
dollars were exempt. Alarmed oligarchs quickly hired teams of lawyers,
who took the law to the Supreme Court, which struck it down in a 5-4
decision that referred to the tax as a “communistic threat.” Although
oligarchs won this round, the law confirmed their fears about extending
democratic voting rights to those too far down the national wealth
pyramid.
The high court protected oligarchs for the next 18 years until the
Sixteenth Amendment was passed in 1913, after which a Federal income tax
was again imposed exclusively on the top 1 percent of earners.
Oligarchs immediately began to explore new modes of income defense,
particularly after World War I, which caused the highest rate to leap
from 7 percent in 1915 to 77 percent in 1918 (the number of brackets
went from seven to 56 over the same period). They fought on two fronts.
First, oligarchs pressured legislators to meet the Federal government’s
demand for revenue by reducing the number of brackets, lowering the
rate of the highest bracket and shifting the entire structure downward
to capture more revenue from the merely well-off and less from the
ultra-rich. Although the “mass affluent” had much larger numbers (which
ought to count for something in a democracy), individually they lacked
the financial firepower oligarchs possessed to influence policy
outcomes. Unable to band together, the mass affluent saw their tax
burdens rise in tandem with tax relief for the very richest Americans.
The second front was a bold tax strike on the part of oligarchs through
tax avoidance and outright evasion. Although there were not that many
oligarchs for tax collectors to pursue, they each had formidable
resources to hire lawyers and other professionals to mount a vigorous
defense. If the government wanted their money, they were going to make
it costly and politically risky to get it. Between 1916 and 1925, tax
filings by the rich dropped by an average of 50 percent. In the worst
year, 1921, tax filings plunged to an average of 19 percent of their
1916 level. The richer the oligarch, the lower the compliance rate.
Americans making more than $1 million per year in 1921 filed at just 10
percent of the rate they did in 1916. This resistance by the ultra-rich
was so pervasive that it prompted Congressman Ogden Mills (R-NY) to
complain, “We collected as much at [a tax rate on the rich of] 10
percent in 1916 as we did at 65 percent in 1921.” By contrast, taxpayers
in the “mass affluent” category lacked the resources and nerve to defy
the Federal government. Cowed into paying, their filing rate actually
increased by 32 percent between 1916 and 1925.
The government faced a difficult choice. Basically, it could either
beef up law enforcement against oligarchs and design better systems to
track and tax their incomes to force them into compliance, or abandon
the effort and instead squeeze the same resources from citizens with far
less material clout to fight back. Despite the daunting complexities of
taxing wider swaths of the population (and the risks of doing so at
election time), the government capitulated to the wealthy few. Beginning
with deep tax cuts on oligarchs enacted in 1921, 1924 and 1926, the
single most progressive economic policy ever enacted in U.S. history—an
income tax exclusively on the rich—was slowly inverted into a mass tax
that burdens oligarchs at the same effective rate as their office staff
and landscapers.
Pleased with how well their exercise of power had worked, oligarchs
rewarded the Federal government for the tax cuts by once again agreeing
to file tax returns. One analysis of the period notes that the effect of
lower taxes on the willingness of the rich to file returns was “more
dramatic the higher the net-income tax class.”
4
It is noteworthy that from 1913 until 1939 the battle over this new
income tax unfolded exclusively among the different components of the
rich. It was a narrowly oligarchic tax only during the first four years.
On average, across these decades the tax fell on just 10 percent of
income earners. In no year before 1940 did it ever involve more than
17.3 percent.
This point matters in debates about who gets what in democracy, and
whether there are significant forms of power affecting outcomes that
have little to do with democratic equality, representation and voting.
One key argument about why the bottom strata of American society,
despite their large numbers, fare so badly in economic policy struggles
is that the poor lack resources, education and political skills. This
reasoning, however, collapses when applied to the pitched battle over
who would shoulder the Federal income tax burdens between the two world
wars. A tiny number of powerful oligarchs succeeded in convincing
legislators to shift tax burdens to the affluent strata immediately
below them, a group a hundred times as numerous and hardly lacking in
education and political skills. Democratic participation theory cannot
explain oligarchic success in this case.
A far better explanation lies in the realm of material power. It is the
difference in their MPIs that allows a small number of oligarchs to
defeat a much larger number of citizens below them. As we’ve seen,
Americans just above the 90
th income percentile have MPIs
ranging from four to seven. Oligarchs in the top 0.1 percent have MPIs
starting at 125 and going as high as 10,300. The intensity of this
material power amplified oligarchs’ complaints, made them more
intimidating politically, and enabled their tax defiance in 1921.
Oligarchs succeeded in getting their taxes reduced from the 70 percent
range to just 25 percent. The top bracket held at this level until 1931,
when a series of crises weakened oligarchs and increased the
government’s need for resources. The 1929 Crash, the Great Depression
and World War II combined to increase the top bracket to 63 percent in
1932, 81 percent in 1941 and a peak of 94 percent in 1944. Income taxes
on the richest Americans remained above 90 percent until 1964—and that
includes the two terms of the Republican Eisenhower Administration—and
above 70 percent thereafter until 1981.
Although the Depression (thanks to the advent of Social Security and
the new infrastructure for collecting payroll taxes) and especially
World War II caused Federal income taxes to be imposed at the mass level
for the first time, the rising tax rates on oligarchs and the strength
of unions combined to help double and then triple average real incomes
for the bottom 90 percent of the population, while the richest saw no
gains at all. High taxes on what today are often self-interestedly
called the “job creators” did not prevent jobs from being created. But
they did retard the rate at which the richest could get even richer.
The Income Defense Industry
This account of the first half of the 20
th century prompts an
important question: If oligarchic power works especially well behind
the scenes during the “politics of the ordinary”, while crises like war
and financial collapses tend to undercut this power, why have oligarchs
been able to maintain the Bush tax cuts (which reduced the top rate to
35 percent) and win other battles despite the devastating economic
crisis of recent years?
The answer lies in a major innovation in how oligarchs flexed their
wealth muscle starting in the 1960s and 1970s. This was when the income
defense industry arose in America to fight against taxes and other
policies that restrained the ability of oligarchs to increase their
share of national income and wealth. This industry is similar to the
legal apparatus oligarchs deployed in 1895 to reverse the income tax,
and the tax evasion methods employed to get the 1920s tax cuts, but it
is now greatly amplified.
The income defense industry is comprised of lawyers, accountants,
wealth management consultants, revolving-door lobbyists, think-tank
debate framers and even key segments of the insurance industry whose
sole purpose is income defense for America’s oligarchs. The industry is
wholly funded by oligarchs, and it would simply not exist if oligarchs
did not have massive fortunes to defend. There is no parallel (much less
countervailing) industry serving the material interests of the mass
affluent, the middle class or the poor. The activities of the income
defense industry extend far beyond mere “interest group” lobbying over
policies. Its salaried specialists assist oligarchs in exerting a form
of power that is unique to the ultra-rich: the defensive redeployment of
their money and income across a global geography of jurisdictions,
banks and offshore havens through the use of tailor-made tax
instruments, evasive trusts and shell corporations.
The industry operates almost exclusively by referral and serves only
high net-worth individuals who have at least $2 million in investable
financial assets, and especially ultra high net-worth individuals with
holdings of $30 million or more. The industry is global in its spread
and integration. Top-tier players like Whithers, Clifford Chance,
Linklaters, White & Case, Milbank Tweed Hadley and McCloy, Weil
Gotshal and Manges, and Freeman Freeman and Smiley are known in the
trade as “magic circle” firms. They help coordinate relationships with
accounting firms and other weapons in the wealth defense arsenal.
The most strategic theater is taxes, with combat conducted on two
fronts. The first is the effort to lower the published top tax rate as
much as possible and also to set the income threshold for the top
bracket low enough that large numbers of relatively modest income
earners feel the oligarchs’ pain. The second front is making the spread
between the published tax rate and actual (or “effective”) taxes paid as
wide as possible. This is one of the most important and costly fights
the income defense industry wages on behalf of its oligarchic patrons.
In the 1970s, oligarchs paid an average effective tax rate of about 55
percent, which was almost 80 percent of the top published rate. By 2007,
the top 400 income earners in America paid an effective tax rate of
16.5 percent, which was barely 50 percent of the top published rate.
Thus, the industry delivered lower tax rates on which oligarchs paid a
lower proportion. The richer the client, the wider the income defense
spread achieved.
5
The income defense industry’s capacities improved throughout the 1970s
and 1980s. As it grew stronger, the results the industry achieved for
the ultra-rich were spectacular. Navigating through the almost 72,000
incomprehensible pages of tax code they had helped draft, industry
specialists today structure complex partnerships and tax shelters that
few IRS auditors can disentangle, or in some cases even fully
understand. The richest Americans pay fees ranging from $300,000 to $3
million for lawyers to sort through the tax code and produce “tax
opinion” letters (an instrument only those who can afford to buy them
have ever heard of). Their purpose is to justify enormous non-payments
of taxes that straddle the murky (and therefore costly to enforce) line
between tax avoidance and tax evasion. These letters are among the most
important weapons for pushing down the effective tax rate and increasing
the income defense spread.
The U.S. Senate estimates that the income defense industry helps
America’s oligarchs avoid paying about $70 billion in taxes a year
through what the IRS calls “abusive offshore tax avoidance schemes”
alone.
6 This is a sum equal to the boon the Bush tax cuts
give to the entire top 2 percent of income earners (a group twenty times
as numerous as America’s oligarchs), and it does not include losses
from similar schemes employed by corporations.
The income defense industry, attached symbiotically to the nation’s
richest citizens, has fortified the material power and influence of
oligarchs. It has enabled them to fight much more tenaciously even in
the face of deep crises that, in earlier decades, delivered serious
setbacks to their broader wealth defense agenda. Although oligarchs
still operate mostly atomistically, their common deployment of a highly
networked and organized industry lends their actions an unprecedented
degree of unity. Combined with weakened unions and considerably less
political unity among average citizens, America’s oligarchs are arguably
more powerful today than during the robber baron era at the turn of the
19
th century.
“A
merica does not have oligarchs, it has rich people”, declared one of my
seminar students at Northwestern University. This could only be true if
wealth were somehow stripped of its inherent political potency.
Whatever else American democracy has achieved, it has not managed this.
Rather, oligarchy and democracy operate within a single system, and
American politics is a daily display of their interplay. Indeed, it is a
misreading of oligarchic theory dating back to Aristotle to view
oligarchy and democracy as mutually exclusive, or to suggest that
democracy is a sham if oligarchs exist and exercise their power
routinely and effectively. Aristotle called for an ideal political
system, the polity, that combines oligarchy and democracy so deftly that
“there should appear to be both elements and yet neither.”
Universal suffrage and liberal freedoms empower all citizens in a
radically equal manner. But the one-person/one-vote principle does
little to prevent oligarchs from exercising the power of money in a
manner that is profoundly unequal. Formal juridical equality is
essential to human freedom. But full political equality, even in the
most liberal democracy, is impossible as long as concentrated wealth
places grossly unequal political influence in the hands of a few
citizens. Democracy fused with oligarchy is certainly better than no
democracy at all. But there should be no illusions that it is anything
other than a partial step toward full political equality and
representation.
1Simon Johnson, former chief economist of the International
Monetary Fund, wrote of the “the reemergence of an American financial
oligarchy” in “The Quiet Coup”,
The Atlantic (May 2009); Columbia University historian Simon Schama, in
Scribble, Scribble, Scribble: Writing on Politics, Ice Cream, Churchill, and My Mother
(Ecco, 2011), suggests that “the United States Inc. is currently being
run by an oligarchy, conducting its affairs with a plutocratic
effrontery which in comparison makes the age of the robber barons . . .
seem a model of capitalist rectitude.”
2In the same issue, Francis Fukuyama suggests that the
pathology of a democracy can be measured by elites’ success in using
their power to shift the burdens of public expenditure onto the rest of
society.
3This term is from John P. McCormick’s book
Machiavellian Democracy
(Cambridge University Press, 2011). “Class anonymous” democracy ignores
the highly distorting power of the ultra-wealthy. He argues that
electoral democracy alone cannot safeguard the economic interests of the
many against America’s oligarchs. In reaching this conclusion he
echoes, of all people, William Graham Sumner (on this see Garfinkle’s
discussion in
The American Interest, January/February 2011).
4Gene Smiley and Richard H. Keehn, “Federal Personal Income Tax Policy in the 1920s”,
Journal of Economic History (June 1995).
5See Winters, Oligarchy, figure 5.5, p. 246.
6“Tax Haven Banks and U.S. Tax Compliance”, Staff
Report, Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations, United States Senate,
July 17, 2008. Also see “Closing Tax Loopholes”, levin.senate.gov
(2010).
Jeffrey A. Winters is professor of political science at Northwestern University and author of Oligarchy, published by Cambridge University Press in 2011.