By Joel Kotkin
Tuesday, March 29, 2022
Twenty-first-century America may be dominated by
oligarchic elites, but arguably the biggest threat to our economic and
political system might be located further down the food chain. This most
dangerous class comes from the growing number of underemployed, overeducated
people. They’re what has been described in Britain as the lumpenintelligentsia:
alienated, angry, and potentially agents of our social and political
deconstruction.
This is far more than an angry mob shouting in
keystrokes, but the proto-proletariat of a feudalizing post-industrial society.
Overall, notes one recent study, over the past 20 years we have created
twice as many bachelor’s degrees as jobs to employ them. Instead of finding
riches in the “new economy,” many end up in lower-paying, noncredentialed jobs.
They then compete with working-class kids, often products of similarly dysfunctional
high schools; an estimated one-third of American working-age males are now
outside the labor force, suffering high rates of incarceration, as well as drug, alcohol,
and other health issues.
Although they are not subject to the same pressures of the
working class, the fate of those attending college and even graduating is far
from bright. This is the most-anxious generation in recent history, and for
good reason. Today more than 40 percent are working in jobs that don’t require
their degree, according to a recent report from the Federal Reserve Bank of New York.
Another study notes that most may never ascend to the kinds of
jobs that graduates have historically enjoyed.
This is a global phenomenon. Over a quarter of
Chinese graduates are unemployed, and the number is
increasing.
In India, one in three graduates up to the age of 29 is
unemployed, according to a Labour Ministry report released last November,
almost three times the country’s overall unemployment rate. A recent U.N. analysis also suggested that this huge
bulge of underemployed educated people could undermine the country’s stability
in the years ahead.
As Greta Thunberg and her legions remind us, young,
discontented people have tended to push toward the extremes. In Latin America,
underemployed graduates have long been a source of disruption. Today roughly half of all Latin American college
students don’t graduate, and many never really see a payback for their time in
college.
A similar pattern of disruption drove the Arab Spring.
There, as well as in the Balkans, unemployed and underemployed college graduates
have been a
major disruptive force. In Africa, where youth unemployment is also high and the numbers are
growing fastest, college graduates who compose barely 7 percent of the total
workforce also labor in low-end jobs.
Earlier, underemployed intellectuals were critical to the
success of the Bolshevik Revolution — a largely powerless, impoverished intelligenti embraced
the red cause of overturning all major institutions. Later, many rewarded
themselves with the privileges of the old aristocracy, albeit dressed up in
egalitarian camouflage.
A large portion of Germany’s far larger educated but also
often near-destitute population embraced national socialism. As the historian
Frederic Spotts has noted, many welcomed the Führer’s efforts to “cleanse”
German culture of foreign contamination, while “testimonials of loyalty rained
down upon it unrequested.” Some of those testimonials were self-serving, Spotts
suggests, since Nazi policies were hostile to leftist intellectuals and
artists, as well as gays and Jews. Getting these rivals out of the way could be
a good career move. But attachment to Nazism was not simply opportunistic.
Universities served as a “stronghold” of the regime, with Nazis winning control
of student councils as early as the 1920s. Ultimately highly educated young
Germans, once afflicted with unemployment and underemployment, would provide an
important early recruiting base for Himmler’s SS.
Historically this was less the case in America. Enrollment
in colleges and universities in the United States increased threefold between
1910 and 1940, and, with the exception of the Depression years, the U.S.
economy was able to produce enough good jobs for them. The expansion continued
after the Second World War, as the GI bill helped double the number of degree-holders
by 1950. With the growing availability of college loans, the total number of people enrolled in college in the United
States grew from 5 million in 1964 to over 7.6 million in 1970, and then to
some 20 million today. The percentage of college graduates in the labor force
soared from under 11 percent in 1970 to over 30 percent in 2010 — a proportion
that has remained about the same since then. With each educational-level
achievement, there was the expectation — and reality — of higher earnings,
notes historian Robert Gordon.
The appeal of college grew as the old blue-collar economy
faded, and, at least initially, seemed to be a safe harbor for new workers. But
over the past few decades, as the number of college graduates has soared, the
supply of good-paying jobs has declined. The costs of the former have soared,
too: Since 1971 the price tag for a four-year degree has increased
more than four times the rate of inflation.
The upper tier of universities continues to thrive, notes
David Rothkopf, author of Superclass: The Global Power Elite and the
World They Are Making, filling the ranks of the global “superclass.” Their
positions have waxed relative to less well-positioned institutions, including
state schools and non-elite private colleges. For the most part they remain
bastions of the class order: Harvard, Princeton, Stanford, and Yale
collectively enroll more students from households in the top 1 percent of the income
distribution than from households in the bottom 60 percent. Robert Reich, a lion of the Left and a former Harvard
professor, characterizes the modern elite universities as being designed mainly
“to educate children of the wealthy and upper-middle class.”
Like the society it is serving, academia itself reflects,
in some ways, a reversion to an older, almost premodern society. For most
college teachers, the road to tenure is problematic, as most remain adjuncts on
minimal salaries and obtain little in the way of security. They live, as was
noted on the Working-Class Studies blog, “precarious workers, more like restaurant and
hospitality workers, gig performers, contract healthcare workers, and delivery
drivers than the tenured professor.” Noah Rothman of Commentary magazine
has compared today’s universities to a modern form of manorialism in which top
administrators, deans, and tenured faculty enjoy comfort, leisure, and
security, but teaching adjuncts decidedly do not. Today roughly 75
percent of college teachers are not on tenure track, and half of these
are part-timers. One in four of this group lives on some form of public
assistance. Some of them actually see their commitment to the academy as akin to a monk’s “vow of
poverty.”
Their students, particularly outside the elite colleges,
don’t do all that much better. A college degree from elite schools such as
Harvard or Yale still has economic value, but a large proportion of those
attending college would be better off not doing so. College enrollments
continue to drop, down over 6 percent since 2019. For many, the option
of trade school offers third option, one that now appeals
to roughly three-fifths of the American public and is
increasingly seen by companies as a more useful form of education than just
collecting degrees.
Indeed, a survey taken in 2020 found that only a third of
undergraduates see their education as advancing their career goals and barely
one in five think the BA is worth the cost. The combination of poorer
parents, decreasing rewards to education, and distaste among
many Americans for academia’s overwhelmingly progressive agenda may further
depress college attendance in the future. The upfront investment is high
(tuition fees for four-year public colleges have increased by an average
of 213 percent in real terms — for private colleges the
figure was 129 percent — between 1988 and 2017) and returns are not guaranteed.
The future for many colleges, particularly in the liberal arts,
may be grim indeed.
More troubling still, universities can get away with
obscurantism and enforced ideological conformism because of their enormous
power over labor markets. They are no longer primarily about learning, as Jane
Jacobs noted as far back as 2004, but about providing the credential needed for
a high-paying job. What they increasingly don’t teach are skills useful in the
workplace. One recent study of American college students found that
more than one-third of students “did not demonstrate any significant improvement
in learning” in four years of college. Employers report that recent graduates
are short on critical-thinking skills.
Getting a graduate degree is increasingly irrelevant,
too. More than 140 colleges “paused” admissions to doctoral programs during the
pandemic. The best guess is that quite a few of these pauses will be permanent.
But the diminished prospects extend well beyond academia. Overall, people now
in their thirties are considerably less likely to own a home than were their
counterparts in earlier generations, due to a shortage of starter homes, blocking the key method of
wealth accumulation. By some estimates, increases in home values over the last
decade accounted for 86 percent of middle-class wealth accumulation.
Indeed, according to projections from the Deloitte Center for Financial Services, Millennials will
control barely 15 percent of the nation’s wealth in 2030 — half the proportion
of Generation X and barely one-third of the share that will be enjoyed by
Boomers, who by then will be entering their 80s. In the aftermath of two huge
events — the 2008 financial crisis and the pandemic — more educated people have
been forced to embrace gig work, which has been a boon for some but has
left many others, here and abroad, consigned to a regime of insecurity and low
wages.
The junction of indoctrination and declining
opportunities leaves our society, and the future of the republic, in great
peril. In 2018 half of all recent college grads made under $30,000
annually and in half of the schools, they earn less than a high-school-educated
person even six years later. As they age, many of these workers may never
really enter the high-end job market. Your local Uber driver or Starbucks
barista is not likely to become tomorrow’s entrepreneurial success, nor will
the part-time teacher of gender studies work at anything but low wages.
This is a generation in which entrance to the middle
class is increasingly blocked. Over 90 percent of people born in the 1940s and
80 percent in the 1950s did overwhelmingly better than their parents. Among
those born in the 1980s, almost half do worse. The decline, note Richard Reeves and
Katherine Guyot in a study for the Brookings Institution, is most evident among the
upper-middle class, the very group that has long prioritized education.
There could be different responses to this decline. Some
on the left see a reprise of labor militancy, which includes sporadic,
occasionally successful, organizing efforts among tech workers, college adjuncts, Amazon warehouse workers, and Starbucks baristas. This will not be a reprise of George
Meany’s AFL-CIO, and may only be limited as — despite the media coverage — the
rate of private-sector unionization is at its
lowest ebb in recent history.
Instead, our young proto-proletarians will seek their
fortune from the public coffers. Many already embrace socialism. In the 2016 primaries, the openly socialist Bernie Sanders easily
outpolled Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump combined among
voters under 30. In the early 2020 primaries, even as the older cohorts rejected him
decisively, Sanders trounced his competitors among the young once again. A poll
conducted by the Communism
Memorial Foundation in 2016 found that 44 percent of American
Millennials favored socialism while 14 percent preferred fascism or communism. By 2024, Millennials and Zoomers will both equal the voting
share of the long-dominant Boomers.
One issue that may appeal is to substitute work with a universal basic income, which would remove the need to
perform in a market economy. Most Americans over 50 strongly reject this idea,
but those under 30, notes Pew, embrace it by two to one. Some have even
embraced an “anti-work” lifestyle, which basically means the rest of
us will be supporting them until we keel over.
The youthful progressive Left — as opposed to
more-traditional liberals — reject much of this country, seeking instead to
replace it with a nation “transformed” into some ill-conceived mashup of
Venezuela, Cuba, and (their fantasy) Sweden, constituting what one conservative writer has described as “a zombie
army of anti-capitalists.”
Yet if it is easy to disagree with and reject the
authoritarian tendency among proto-proletarians, it is incumbent on those who
are either conservatives or traditional liberals to come up with paths for
success for those who do not attend four-year schools as well as those who
do. Better jobs, not more welfare, is the key to greater
equality and less alienation. A nation of struggling renters, with no hope of
ascending into the middle class, are fodder for authoritarians; they do not
make the ideal citizenry of an optimistic, vibrant republic.
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