Class Struggle

It’s a cliche by now to say that Americans don’t discuss or really understand class. It’s more accurate, though, to say that those Americans who profess to have some understanding of American society and economics don’t understand class. It’s a cliche, but it’s still true: class is almost invisible here in the United States, at least in official discourse.

Of course, if you are one of the many getting poorer– or the millions without insurance or unemployed– you know class all too well. Class, as Marx famously said, is always a class struggle for working people, a kind of ongoing, constant battle to keep yourself afloat. Lots of people in the U.S. seemed to believe that by creating a large, affluent middle class we ended this struggle for good.

We haven’t, of course, and we are paying a high price for our complacency. We’ve reached a point, in fact, where the only way we can get the most basic kinds of social support– unemployment insurance, even a temporary raise in our wages– is by paying off the rich. We get a tiny 2% break in taxes and another year of unemployment insurance. The rich get billions.

So the Chronicle of Higher Education’s statistical portrait of the undergraduate population ought to be much less of a surprise. As it turns out, just as wages have declined, and the costs of college have been increasingly shifted to the individual, fewer and fewer students “live on leafy campuses and party hard—many others are commuters, full-time workers, and parents.”

White Elephants

If you spend a little time reading around on the education media, you get a strong sense of impending doom. The private, for-profit universities are facing powerful new regulations that may well shut them down or curtail operations; at least one, Kaplan, is already announcing lay offs. The private, not for profits, long almost completely unregulated, face increasing calls for regulations and accountability. Everything’s up for grabs; the room’s full of white elephants.

The public universities have been in an almost constant state of financial crisis for many years, and even the money-printing athletic conferences are, in fact, often operating in the red. The long festering problems centered around the destruction of tenure and the over reliance on part time faculty are beginning to be reflected in increasingly clear ways in the research into college teaching. Educators love to use the rhetoric of crisis, but it may be justified now.

The Clot at the Top

Doug Henwood, the economist behind the Left Business Observer, has long claimed that one of the most intractable problems in U.S. culture and economics is our loss of an upper class with some sort of long term point of view beyond next quarter profits. Capitalism, Henwood suggests, has forgotten that domestic economic inequity is self-destructive.

Any reasonable oligarch would be unconcerned by the end of the Bush tax cuts for the wealthy; they don’t threaten long term profits. Any reasonable oligarch would want to shrink the gap between rich and poor, and wages to rise; if workers are poor economic growth is impossible. Any reasonable oligarch would favor the huge money saved through a single payer health care plan.

I am not sure the rich were ever really helpful but they did allow most of the New Deal to get through and Medicaire and so on. Reading this piece from a California professor, I feel the same way about university administrators. As a class they once saw their interests and the interests of the professors and students as aligned in some fundamental sense.

Now, as the writer points out, they’ve swallowed so much of the business and market Kool Aid, it seems almost impossible to imagine how they might change, short of being forced by a well organized faculty. That would provide the necessary counter-weight, but I am not sure that it would solve the more fundamental cultural problems. What is good administration?