Last Best Hope: An Essay on the Revival of America

 

Published in 2021

My social scientist-trained daughter has on occasion made disparaging remarks about "journalists." She finds that they tend to construct sweeping generalizations and predictions founded on a thin layer of evidence and understanding. And when recalling the names of certain "journalists" who seemed most to trigger her wrath, I've noted that they tend toward the op-ed variety, where opinionizing and pontificating were often the order of the day. I must admit that I often find myself sharing her attitudes. But not towards all journalists. Some "hit the pavement" to learn from and about people, and they carefully observe what's going on. In addition, they have an intellectual storehouse from which they draw the resources needed to frame their observations. They are educated, and they educate their readers. Among those whom I would include in my pantheon of "good journalists" (and perhaps because they are more than just journalists) are Garry Wills, especially in his early years (his later work tends to the more historical and scholarly) and Robert D. Kaplan, whose passport is probably as full as one could imagine. Now I'll add George Packer. 

George Packer

This is my first book by Packer, and I am impressed. This should come as no surprise given that he won the Pulitzer Prize for his 2013 book about America, The Unwinding: An Inner History of the New America. And while I can't speak with to his other books, I can speak to this one, which struck me not only with its astute assessments about the current state of American society and politics, but also as a cry of the heart arising from our current plight. (In this he reminds me of Adam Gopnik's A Thousand Small Sanities, published in 2019, which was prompted, so Gopnik reports, by the election of Trump. Gopnik's book is more focused on the liberal heritage than analyzing our current plight, but both books are deeply consideredl books prompted by genuine anguish. Gopnik, too, has a reputation as an exemplary journalist. And by the way, both Packer and Gopnik cite the life and work of civil rights activist Bayard Rustin as exemplary.) But what makes Packer's book unique? Packer, perhaps more succinctly than anyone I know, delves deeply into the divisions of our society by looking closely at the traits of four primary groups within our current politics. I believe that he misses a fifth group: the truly uninformed and uncaring; those without the time, energy, education, or initiative to take a real interest in politics and that are only occasionally motivated to vote. But among those in some measure active in politics--even if in a relatively passive way that our contemporary democracy seems to prefer--Packer's four-fold division makes a lot of sense. 

The four groups that Packer identifies, compliments, and criticizes are "Free America," "Smart America," "Real America," and "Just America." Each group that Packer identifies has a distinct history, identity, and demographic. "Real America" is the traditional (old) Republican base that identifies with "freedom" as the ability to build and develop and that prefers "the market" for sorting out public problems. It represents the attitudes of the  traditional business class from Main Street to Wall Street. "Smart America" represents those who have received the requisite education and standing to participate in the meritocracy. These individuals are broadly "liberal" and are found in the professions and the bureaucracies of governments, educational institutions, and NGOs. A good deal of social conflict comes from the snobbery of "Smart America" and the resulting resentment of "Real America." "Real America" consists of those from small towns and rural America with less education who often live in areas of relative economic decline. These are folks who were enamoured by Sarah Palin ( remember her?) and who attend Trump rallies. Often good friends and good neighbors within their communities, their sense of community remains limited to the people and attitudes of their locality. Finally, "Just America" is the younger, educated demographic that has propelled Black Lives Matter, the "Me too" movement, and other ideas about social justice into the forefront. Packer identifies with their aspirations for justice and their critique of much of contemporary society, but he criticizes their intolerance of diverse opinions and all-too-common disregard of procedures intended to protect individuals from the actions of the crowd looking for scapegoats. 

This, of course, is just a thumbnail sketch of Packer's analysis, and his command of detail and nuance impressed me. He was at once sympathetic with each group and also critical. I found myself mostly nodding in agreement with him as I read along. I, too, can celebrate and criticize each perspective. No such broad generalizations found in any sociological portrait can capture all of the messiness of reality, but such maps can provide us with a guide. And, of course, many of us may find ourselves in a foreign territory. For instance, I suppose by dint of a couple of degrees from my alma mater that I belong to "Smart America," but I grew-up and then often dealt professionally with "Free America." (I was a member of a business partnership and represented many businesses.) I also grew-up in and lived in (or near) "Real America," and I hold a sense of the Jekyll and Hyde realities of much rural and small-town America; its strengths and its weaknesses. Finally, making sure that all individuals and groups are treated fairly and with dignity is of the highest value. But I do pause in the face of excessive righteouness, reverse intolerance, and rash judgments. Sometimes justice can paint in broad strokes, but at other times it requires painstaking detail. (This probably comes from my legal education and over 30 years as criminal defense lawyer.) In summary, Packer's mix of celebration and criticism struck a strong cord within me. Somehow, we need to bring these diverse perspectives into some measure of dialogue and congruence. 

Packer has also done his homework and framed his analysis within the tradition. Specifically, perhaps his most frequent reference to another American commentator is to Toqueville. Following Tocquville's lead, Packer identifies the American concern for equality as at least as important (if not more important) than our concern for freedom. The interplay between equality and freedom that Tocqueville identified in his early nineteenth century tour of America is as complex and often vexing today as it was then. Packer believes (and I hardily concur) that the current degree of inequality that has arisen in the U.S. since the 1970s is the major source of social and political friction that threatens our democracy. (Also, beyond Tocqueville, Packer draws upon the thought of Whitman, Lincoln, Lippmann, and the lives of Francis Perkins and Bayard Rustin to buttress his observations.) 

Toward the end of the book Packer offers some suggestions for addressing our problems. His suggestions, none of which are especially radical or unique, are likely familiar to anyone who attends to the problems of our political situation. Voting reform, media reform, control of big tech, and (perhaps my favorite) devolved decision-making (to get more people more directly involved in the political process at the local level beyond merely attending an occasional meeting to voice a complaint or promote a cause) are all good and necessary suggestions. But I doubt that they by themselves would prove sufficient. In this regard, I agree with Steve McIntosh, who makes this same criticism in his sympathetic consideration of Packer's argument. (Based on the series of exerpts of the book published in The Atlantic.)  McIntosh lays out his similar analysis and his suggestion that we need to go up to get out (my phrase, not his.) MacIntosh makes these points in his book Development Politics: How America Can Grow a Better Vision of Itself and in a review essay about Packer's articles.  I agree with McIntosh in this regard, but the question remains: how are we as a society propel ourselves up. What Packer ignores (for the most part) is the potential changes that climate change will be foist upon us (or other crisises like the pandemic). The one thing that I feel confident in predicting--with the spirit of Yogi Beara always whispering in my ear--is that the future won't be like the past; that "the future isn't what it used to be." Thus, like McIntosh and William Ophuls (to name but two whom I could cite about this topic), we need not only changes in our political economy or our political institutions, but more fundamentally we need a change in consciousness. A sea-change in our culture. This is a tall order, to be sure, and if we knew exactly how to do it (and if we had the will), it would have happened already At best, this is an aspiration, a future that we must explore in a place of darkness, but this level of aspiration is vital to our collective future. 

But back to Packer. He's given us a carefully researched and considered portrait of our current predicatment. Such an undertaking is vital to trying to find a way forward. I can't think of a more succinct and vivid and passionate assessment of where we are. How do we get out of this predicament? Packer is not quite as compelling on remedy, but he's certainly on the right path with his diagnosis.