This pandemic that has limited traveling, dining out with friends, and socializing in general has made life somewhat boring. Life can be more interesting than simply trying to stay healthy.
But there is one aspect of life in which many of us yearn for more boredom, namely politics. For some of us — economists, politicians, and those with business interests directly affected — politics are always interesting. But for most people, politics are usually nothing to get excited about, except possibly on the eve of an election.
In contrast, when politics perpetually dominate the news it is generally not because citizens are in a good mood and simply desire to learn more about how government functions. It’s more likely because of anxiety, worry, and possible danger afoot.
During my entire three years in the Marine Corps during the 1950s, I don’t recall the word, “politics” ever having come up, even once. In fact, I don’t recall the word “patriotism” ever uttered. We didn’t talk like that in those days. “Patriotism” wasn’t politicized and nobody boasted about it as it was taken for granted, as was the obligatory military service of every able-bodied male. Military service during that era was “no big deal,” such a “no big deal” that the GI Bill was terminated in January of 1955, a few months before I enlisted.
The closest I came to politics was a letter I wrote to then-Senator Wm. Proxmire, urging that the GI Bill be reinstated. I had decided that if I could get through Marine Boot Camp and all that follows, I could do anything — even go to college if that enlistment ever ended — three years is forever to a teenager. In that letter I reminded the good Senator that access to education meant higher incomes and higher tax revenue. Of course I also had my self-interest in mind.
I never expected my letter to have any effect. But I received a nice letter back, even complementing me on my reasoning. But the GI Bill was non-existent when I hit the UW Campus in 1958.
With increased American military involvement in Vietnam in the 1960s, the huge Baby Boom Generation became of military age. In contrast to the small “silent generation,” it was large enough that even in wartime not everyone had to serve.
As inequitable as that era was to veterans who served, while many found ways to evade the draft, Congress did one thing right, namely in September 1966, to reinstate the GI Bill with its educational benefits. They even made it retroactive to January 1955 to include those who had served in peacetime.
In 1966 I still had a year to go on my Ph.D. at UC Berkeley, so I did benefit from the GI Bill for twelve of the thirty-six months for which I was eligible. While we peacetime vets appreciated those benefits, we would not have chosen it to be on the backs of the Vietnam vets.
With racial strife and controversy over Vietnam, the 1960s was a period of tremendous civil unrest, controversy, anxiety, and anger, accompanied by high interest in politics.
After the tumult of the 1960s, public interest in politics ebbed and flowed, depending on events. The impeachment of President Clinton, the terrorist attacks of 9/11, the invasion of Iraq, the Great Recession of 2007-08, all saw temporary spikes in interest in politics. But even with that, politics remained a topic on which many were not all that interested. Many people still saw only the tawdry side of politics, and wanted no part of active involvement.
This brings us to the current period, beginning with the election of 2016 and the Trump phenomenon. “Unprecedented” is perhaps an overused word. But how else can we characterize not only the new interest, but the divisiveness, anxiety, and anger over current politics. The Trump phenomenon is a combination of both cause and effect of this era of anxiety and anger.
Trump’s aggressive assault on “the system” and promise to shake it up brought in people who previous had no interest in politics, including some who had never before voted. At the same time, it created a backlash among many others who had taken only casual interest.
As an economist I tend to filter national affairs through an economic lens. Since the 1970s American capitalism has left a lot of people economically behind. Those for whom the system is not working are a fertile ground for a self-proclaimed savior — “only I can fix it” — to shake up the system, and change “politics as usual.” Sure, there is anxiety among some over fears of Caucasians becoming a minority, fear of immigrants, and related matters. But economic inequality that, for many, includes unaffordable access to health care, unaffordable housing, loss of manufacturing jobs , the need to work multiple jobs to make ends meet, and general economic insecurity creates desire for change, whether by Donald Trump or, for that matter, a Bernie Sanders-like politician. But it was Donald Trump who held sway.
To list the unprecedented ways that the Trump era changed “politics as usual” is like trying to sip from a firehose. His early flap with the Pope, his personal attack on John McCain, affairs with hot women and attempts to pay them off while lying about it, softness toward Russia and admiration of Putin, his envy and celebration of world dictators, ripping children from mothers at the border, impeachment and acquittal, disparaging POWs and KIAs as losers, slippery tax evasion and potentially dangerous financial liabilities, and overt support of white supremacy, is overwhelming. His iron grip on powerful Republicans who should have the self-respect to resist is unbelievable and disgusting.
Enter Covid-19 and Trump ignorantly insisting that it will just disappear. This followed by polarization of recommended public health measures, and refusal to guarantee peaceful transition of power.
Enough we say, only to find that now he has caught the virus himself.
It’s enough to make us yearn for domestic tranquility and for politics to become boring again.
— John Waelti of Monroe, a retired professor of economics, can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net. His column appears Saturdays in the Monroe Times.
