Can the Racial Wealth Gap Be Closed Without Speaking of Race?

Political momentum on the left for such an effort must face the reality of legal obstacles, particularly from the Supreme Court.

Proponents concerned about the wealth gap instead must come up with policies that have the effect of disproportionately building wealth for African-Americans, without singling them out.

“There are ways that you can craft legislation that essentially gets at this effect,” Ms. Baradaran said. “Look at how much legislation we have that gets at the opposite effect.”

Policies like the mortgage interest deduction, for example, disproportionately benefit white families, who are more likely to own homes. So do tax advantages for the rich, who are more likely to be white. Even federal investments in seemingly race-neutral infrastructure like the Interstate Highway System had this effect by enabling the development of all-white suburbs in an era of legal discrimination.

Wealth-building proposals today are trying to engineer a similar if opposite outcome. That makes the details thorny.

“The first and most efficient approach is targeting relief to the people who were targeted with discrimination,” said Dorothy Brown, a law professor at Emory University. “If we can’t get there, then we have to go to next best.”

Ms. Warren’s strategy, she said, is a clever workaround. Rather than specifying African-Americans, Ms. Warren’s bill would target specific neighborhoods where African-Americans harmed by the legacy of lending discrimination are likely to live.

Other researchers argue that a program based on neighborhoods redlined in the 1930s would be too narrow; most African-Americans who buy homes aren’t purchasing in such neighborhoods today (and in some cities, middle-income whites are).

But the kind of neighborhood criteria Ms. Warren has in mind could be one model. Ms. Brown proposes identifying neighborhoods with the least household wealth and allowing tax breaks associated with homeownership, like the mortgage deduction, only to people who live there.

Mr. Booker’s proposal would give $1,000 in a government savings fund to every newborn in America, for use later in adulthood. But the government would seed more money into that fund each year according to a family’s income, giving the most to children in the poorest families. That money could then be spent in adulthood on education, buying a home or starting a business.

“Ultimately, assets give people agency in their lives,” said Darrick Hamilton, director of the Kirwan Institute for the Study of Race and Ethnicity at Ohio State University. His work on the baby bonds concept informed Mr. Booker’s proposal. “Assets give people the ability to make decisions,” he said, “to have choice and have freedom and self-determination.”

Reagan’s Supply-Side Warriors Blaze a Comeback Under Trump

Like perms, Members Only jackets and Duran Duran, their economic theories were big in the go-go 1980s. Now they’re back.

On a Tuesday evening earlier this month, several dozen Washingtonians gathered in a ballroom at the Trump International Hotel, ostensibly to enjoy an open bar and watch a new PBS documentary about money. In reality, the event also served as a rally for a small clique whose fierce devotion to supply-side economics made them influential figures in the 1980s, and has won them renewed clout and access under President Donald Trump.

Invitations listed the hosts as Stephen Moore, a habitué of conservative think tanks, and Art Laffer, the supply-side economist, who did not end up attending. Larry Kudlow, the director of Trump’s National Economic Council and one of the president’s closest advisers, showed up in a pinstriped suit. “Larry Kudlow is my best friend in the world,” gushed Moore in opening remarks, noting that Laffer and Kudlow served as co-best men at his wedding to his second wife, Anne, who sat in the front row. Taking the floor next, Kudlow gazed out at the room and offered a shoutout to Adele Malpass, a RealClearPolitics reporter and former chairwoman of the Manhattan Republican Party, whose husband, David, has just taken over as president of the World Bank on Trump’s say-so.

Those decades of free-market machinations are now paying off, as a quintet of Ronald Reagan administration alumni — Kudlow, Laffer, Forbes, Moore and David Malpass—united by undying affection for each other and for laissez-faire economics, have the run of Washington once more. Members of the tight-knit group have shaped Trump’s signature tax cut, helped install each other in posts with vast influence over the global economy, and are working to channel Trump’s mercantilist instincts into pro-trade policies. Blasted by their critics as charlatans and lauded by their acolytes as tireless champions of prosperity, there’s no denying that the quintet has had an enduring impact on decades of economic policy.

Most recently, in late March, and partly at Kudlow’s urging, Trump announced his intention to nominate Moore to one of two open seats on the Federal Reserve Board of Governors, the body that sets the tempo of the global financial system.

The announcement prompted protests from economists across the ideological spectrumGeorge W. Bush’s top economist, Harvard’s Gregory Mankiw, said Moore lacked the “intellectual gravitas” for the job—who warned that appointing Moore, a think-tanker with no Ph.D., would politicize the Fed. Soon, it emerged that Moore had made a mistake on a 2014 tax return that led the IRS to place a disputed $75,000 lien against him, and CNN dug up scathing comments Moore had made about Trump during the presidential primary.

Whether Moore can survive the scrutiny and pass muster with the Senate will be a test of the supply-siders’ renewed cachet. They believe they can pull it off.

“I understand there are imperfections,” Kudlow told POLITICO. “I think it can be worked out.”

Moore described some of his recent conversations with Trump, which often turn to Fed Chairman Jerome Powell.

“I think his criticism of Powell is excessive and could be counterproductive,” Moore said, because it could actually provoke Powell to prove his independence by defying Trump’s wishes. Generally speaking, Trump wants Powell to keep interest rates low to decrease the chances of any economic slump before the president faces voters again next November.

Moore also recounted how he and Laffer, who began advising Trump in 2016, helped place Kudlow in his current posting.

Roughly a year into Trump’s term, as Trump’s first NEC director, Gary Cohn, prepared to depart the post, the duo sprang into action. Moore said that during this period, whenever he and Laffer engaged in their semiregular consultations with Trump, they would have some version of the following exchange:

“You know, Mr. President, you’re missing one thing,” Laffer or Moore would say.

“What is that?” Trump would ask.

“Larry Kudlow,” Laffer or Moore would tell him.

We just drilled the message over and over,” Moore recalled. “‘Larry, Larry, Larry, Larry.’”

At the same time, Moore said, the pair worked the press. “We made a concerted effort to make it seem like a fait accompli that Larry would get the job.”

That included knifing a few of Kudlow’s rivals. “We had a campaign to say ‘this person’s completely unqualified,’” he said, though he declined to name their targets. “I think we took them down,” he added.

It proves that in Washington, appearance is reality, sometimes,” Moore continued. “So that was highly effective.

During that same period, following the 1974 midterms, Laffer first drewhis famous Laffer Curve — a representation of the idea that at a certain level of taxation, lowering taxes would theoretically spur enough growth that government revenue would actually rise—at a meeting near the White House with Wanniski, Dick Cheney, then an aide to President Gerald Ford, and Grace-Marie Arnett, another free marketeer active in Republican politics.

Reagan would go on to fully embrace supply-side theory, a shift from the party’s traditional emphasis on fiscal discipline, appointing Laffer to his Economic Policy Advisory Board.

Then as now, supply-side economics was criticized for favoring the rich and derided by critics as unrealistic “Voodoo Economics.” The critics got an early boost from a 1981 Atlantic cover story in which Reagan’s budget director, David Stockman, aired his doubts that this novel theory was working in practice.

The piece ruined Stockman’s standing with Reagan—Laffer calls him “the traitor of all traitors”—but Stockman’s young aide, Kudlow, now 71, remained a loyal supply-sider and struck up a relationship with Laffer.

Reagan would go on to appoint Forbes as the head of the Board of International Broadcasting, which oversaw Radio Liberty and Radio Free Europe, and Moore worked as the research director for Reagan’s privatization commission. Malpass, meanwhile, worked in Reagan’s Treasury department. Representatives for Forbes and Malpass said they were not available for interviews.

In the 1988 presidential primary, another supply-sider, the late New York congressman Jack Kemp, lost out to George H.W. Bush, curtailing the crew’s influence within the party.

But they stuck together. Moore, now 59, first became close with Laffer and Kudlow in 1991, after he recruited them to participate in an event celebrating the 10-year anniversary of Reagan’s first tax cuts for the libertarian Cato Institute.

In 1993, Kudlow and Forbes teamed up to craft a tax cut plan for New Jersey gubernatorial candidate Christine Todd Whitman, who went on to unseat incumbent Democrat James Florio.

Meanwhile, Kudlow hired Malpass to work for him at Bear Stearns, where he had been flying high as the investment bank’s chief economist.

The next year, Kudlow crashed to earth—he left the bank and entered rehab for alcohol and cocaine addiction. Laffer stuck by Kudlow, hiring the investment banker to work for his consulting firm in California when he emerged.

In 1996, Forbes, backed by Moore, entered the Republican primary and lost out to Bob Dole, but the group takes credit for getting Kemp picked for the bottom half of that year’s ticket, which lost to incumbent Bill Clinton.

At some point, Forbes, Kudlow, Moore and Laffer became inseparable in the eyes of their peers.

You could call them the Four Musketeers of the supply-side movement,” said Avik Roy, an editor at Forbes involved in some of the group’s advocacy. Or you could call them the “the supply-side Beatles,” as Moore does—or “the four amigos,” as anti-tax crusader Grover Norquist does. “There’s a fourness to them,” observed Jack Fowler, vice president of the conservative National Review.

Malpass, 63, who has maintained a lower public profile over the years, qualifies as something of a fifth musketeer.

“They’re a little rat pack. There’s no doubt about that,” said one New York financial world player who keeps in touch with the group. “They’re all pretty straight guys. They’re not criminals. They don’t do anything weird, outwardly. You know what I’m saying? They like talking about supply-side economics. They get hard talking about tax cuts.”

Whatever you call them, there’s no denying their impact on American society. The group has argued that the best way to manage the economy is to make life easier for the producers of goods and services—by limiting taxes and regulations—so that producers are incentivized to supply more of these goods and services to the market, and that taming deficits is less important than spurring growth.

Before Reagan took office and empowered the supply-siders, the top marginal federal income tax rate in the U.S. had remained somewhere north of 60 percent since the Great Depression. Under their influence, Reagan briefly pushed the top rate below 30 percent, and it has not returned to anything near the pre-Reagan status quo since then.

Before Reagan, the national debt-to-GDP ratio had been declining since World War II, thanks in large part to the old Republican school of fiscal discipline. Since Reagan, the debt ratio has been climbing back toward its wartime peak. Trade and migration barriers have also come down. American society has become both wealthier in real GPD terms and more unequal. These trends have persisted thanks to a post-Cold War, bipartisan free market consensus, and to the bipartisan Keynesian response to the last financial crisis—but it was the supply-siders who really got the party started.

And they have not stopped partying since. Members of the group have continued to actively socialize with each other over the decades, with some spending New Year’s eves together. At one birthday party for Laffer in New York, they presented the aging economist with a signed poster of the Jedi master Yoda. “I’m short, a little bit fat. I’ve got big, green ears,” Laffer explained. “I look sort of like Yoda.”

In 2015, Forbes, Laffer, Kudlow and Moore created the Committee to Unleash Prosperity, a group intended in part to counter the emergence of the “Reformicons,” a rival gang of Republican eggheads who felt the party had gone too far in the direction of laissez-faire policies favoring the rich.

Among the other 29 committee members listed in a press release were both Malpasses, Kevin Hassett, now chairman of Trump’s Council of Economic Advisers, and Andy Puzder, who was Trump’s initial pick for labor secretary until allegations of domestic abuse unearthed by POLITICO derailed his nomination.

The group sought, with considerable success, to vet Republican presidential candidates for their supply-side credentials and to influence their platforms, holding large private dinners at Manhattan venues such as the Four Seasons and the 21 Club, so that committee members and other notable invitees—like Rudy Giuliani and Roger Ailes—could feel out the candidates.

Before meeting with the larger group, candidates would huddle with the committee’s founders to receive economic tutorials. Or in the case of Ohio Governor John Kasich, to give one. “We were all sitting there, and he would talk for an hour,” Moore recalled. “We’re like, ‘No, we’re supposed to be talking to you,’ and he’s talking to us.” Moore called the episode “Classic John Kasich.”

Though the events were supposed to be off the record, journalists often attended, and an otherwise lackluster February 2015 dinner for Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker made headlines when Giuliani barged in, proclaimed he did not believe that President Barack Obama “loves America,” and insisted a POLITICO reporter could print the quote.

Almost every serious Republican candidate participated in the dinners—but when Trump’s campaign first came calling early in the mogul’s bid, Moore said the committee passed.

It just seemed like a joke to me that he was even running. I was like, ‘No, we’re a serious organization,’” he recalled. In hindsight, Moore said, “That was stupid.”

Meanwhile, Trump defied the committee’s free market orthodoxy on issues like trade and immigration, drawing public criticism from both Moore and Kudlow, and feuded with the laissez-faire Club for Growth, which Moore had co-founded in the late ’90s.

At the same time, Kudlow—who spent two decades in media as a National Review editor and CNBC host—was also eyeing a 2016 Senate run in Connecticut, but he did not jump in.

As the voting started, it became clear that Trump was emerging as the likely nominee, but he continued to have trouble attracting experienced advisers. In March 2016, then-campaign manager Corey Lewandowski invited Kudlow and Moore to meet with Trump at the candidate’s midtown office. (Laffer—who moved from California to Tennessee in 2006 for tax reasons—had already met with Trump and begun advising the campaign on a tax plan.)

The duo hit it off with the apparent nominee, and Trump asked them to help refine his tax proposal, which he had first unveiled in September 2015. According to “Reagonomics,” Trump wanted the pair to make his plan “bigger and more beautiful” than Reagan’s tax cut, but he also needed to trim the projected cost of his original proposal, which was about $9 trillion. The populist Steve Bannon, the book says, pushed Trump to trim the cost by jacking up his original plan’s top income tax rate. The supply-siders fought back, making charts for Trump that showed when Reagan slashed taxes on the wealthy, the share of tax revenue paid by the top 1 percent actually went up. Ultimately, Trump’s new proposal reflected a compromise position between the two camps, with a top tax rate that was higher than the original plan’s, but lower than the current effective rate.

At the March meeting, Trump also mentioned he was planning a trip to Capitol Hill to confer with congressional Republicans. Moore had heard a similar recent meeting with lawmakers had gone badly—they complained Trump was “arrogant”—and suggested that he and Kudlow, who personally knew much of the caucus, accompany the candidate to help “break the ice.”

Apart from a confrontation between Trump and Arizona Senator Jeff Flake, Moore said the approach “worked like a charm.”

After Trump won, the trio continued to advise on the tax plan. Kudlow and Moore pushed the plan on Capitol Hill, drawing on the same relationships with Senate Republicans that they hope will ensure a smooth nomination process for Moore. Malpass, who had begun advising Trump during the campaign and then went into the Treasury Department, also helped craft the plan.

After the tax bill’s passage in December 2017, Laffer and Moore turned their attention to their campaign to install Kudlow in the White House, which succeeded last March. (Two other members of the Committee to Unleash Prosperity, the grocery and real estate billionaires John and Margo Catsimatidis, were dining with Kudlow and his wife at the Italian restaurant Cipriani when Trump called to formally offer Kudlow the job.)

Once inside, Kudlow returned the favor, ensuring that Moore’s and Laffer’s writings regularly made their way to Trump’s desk.

The supply-siders began pushing Trump on trade, advising him to encourage a lowering of trade barriers on all sides, rather than raising them. Last June, Kudlow persuaded Trump to float the idea of the world governments eliminating all tariffs at a G-7 summit in Quebec.

Last month, Kudlow showed Trump an op-ed co-authored by Moore in the Wall Street Journal that criticized Powell. The op-ed reportedly pleased Trump so much that it prompted him to offer Moore the Fed job.

Kudlow also championed his former Bear Stearns protege’s World Bank ascension. “For Malpass, I worked very, very hard,” he said.

Moore has predicted that Malpass will gradually bring the supply-side gospel to the World Bank, which influences the economic policies of governments around the world.

To their friends, the prospect of the rat pack getting back at the economic levers is wonderful. “The economy is the best it’s been in a long time!” John Catsimatidis exclaimed.

Bernie Sanders and the Myth of the 1 Percent

The very rich are richer than people imagine.

A peculiar chapter in the 2020 presidential race ended Monday, when Bernie Sanders, after months of foot-dragging, finally released his tax returns. The odd thing was that the returns appear to be perfectly innocuous. So what was all that about?

The answer seems to be that Sanders got a lot of book royalties after the 2016 campaign, and was afraid that revealing this fact would produce headlines mocking him for now being part of the 1 Percent. Indeed, some journalists did try to make his income an issue.

This line of attack is, however, deeply stupid. Politicians who support policies that would raise their own taxes and strengthen a social safety net they’re unlikely to need aren’t being hypocrites; if anything, they’re demonstrating their civic virtue.

But failure to understand what hypocrisy means isn’t the only way our discourse about politics and inequality goes off the rails. The catchphrase “the 1 Percent” has also become a problem, obscuring the nature of class in 21st-century America.

Focusing on the top percentile of the income distribution was originally intended as a corrective to the comforting but false notion that growing inequality was mainly about a rising payoff to education. The reality is that over the past few decades the typical college graduate has seen only modest gains, with the big money going to a small group at the top. Talking about “the 1 Percent” was shorthand for acknowledging this reality, and tying that reality to readily available data.

[For an even deeper look at what’s on Paul Krugman’s mind, sign up for his weekly newsletter.]

But putting Bernie Sanders and the Koch brothers in the same class is obviously getting things wrong in a different way.

True, there’s a huge difference between being affluent enough that you don’t have to worry much about money and living with the financial insecurity that afflicts many Americans who consider themselves middle class. According to the Federal Reserve, 40 percent of U.S. adults don’t have enough cash to meet a $400 emergency expense; a much larger number of Americans would be severely strained by the kinds of costs that routinely arise when, say, illness strikes, even for those who have health insurance.

So if you have an income high enough that you can

  • easily afford health care and good housing,
  • have plenty of liquid assets and
  • find it hard to imagine ever needing food stamps,

you’re part of a privileged minority.

But there’s also a big difference between being affluent, even very affluent, and having the kind of wealth that puts you in a completely separate social universe. It’s a difference summed up three decades ago in the movie “Wall Street,” when Gordon Gekko mocks the limited ambitions of someone who just wants to be “a $400,000-a-year working Wall Street stiff flying first class and being comfortable.”

Even now, most Americans don’t seem to realize just how rich today’s rich are. At a recent event, my CUNY colleague Janet Gornick was greeted with disbelief when she mentioned in passing that the top 25 hedge fund managers make an average of $850 million a year. But her number was correct.

One survey found that Americans, on average, think that corporate C.E.O.s are paid about 30 times as much as ordinary workers, which hasn’t been true since the 1970s. These days the ratio is more like 300 to 1.

Why should we care about the very rich? It’s not about envy, it’s about oligarchy.

With great wealth comes both great power and a separation from the concerns of ordinary citizens. What the very rich want, they often get; but what they want is often harmful to the rest of the nation. There are some public-spirited billionaires, some very wealthy liberals. But they aren’t typical of their class.

The very rich

  • don’t need Medicare or
  • Social Security; they don’t use
  • public education or
  • public transit; they
  • may not even be that reliant on public roads (there are helicopters, after all).

Meanwhile, they don’t want to pay taxes.

Sure enough, and contrary to popular belief, billionaires mostly (although often stealthily) wield their political power on behalf of tax cuts at the top, a weaker safety net and deregulation. And financial support from the very rich is the most important force sustaining the extremist right-wing politics that now dominates the Republican Party.

That’s why it’s important to understand who we mean when we talk about the very rich. It’s not doctors, lawyers or, yes, authors, some of whom make it into “the 1 Percent.” It’s a much more rarefied social stratum.