S
ince the fall of 2008 , americans have watched the
financial markets with the hypervigilant anxiety of a
rescue pet: spoiled by (relative) prosperity and half
expecting to be cast back out at a moment’s notice.
This feeling of nervous anticipation peaked over the
summer, when a key economic indicator known as the yield curve fell
out of whack and investors briefly stood to make more money lending
to the government in the short term rather than the long term.
Historically, an inverted yield curve has meant a recession is
coming—a bad outcome for almost everyone involved, especially the
poor. Yet this curve brought with it a sort of dark vindication. With
slowing global growth and a trade war with China, things couldn’t
possibly be as good as they seemed, could they? For the moment,
however, the markets seem to have bounced back. In early November
the Dow Jones, NASDAQ, and S&P 500 indexes closed at record
highs; at last count, US unemployment hit a 50-year low of 3.5 per-
cent; and homeownership was on the rise, at almost 65 percent. At
the same time, Bloomberg News put the risk of a recession (defined as
two consecutive quarters of negative economic growth) in the next
12 months at 27 percent, while other experts expect the coming
slump to be less pronounced—more of a correction than a cataclysm.
It’s impossible to tell who’s right. All we know is that a downturn
is a “when,” not “if,” scenario. Whoever is in power when that day
finally comes will have a once-in-a-generation opportunity to seize
the moment and transform the US economy. A second Trump term
would derail any efforts toward a green, equitable, and fair 21st cen-
tury. Corporate power will continue to swell; more plant and animal
species will die off; people will suffer hotter summers, colder winters,
longer hours, worse benefits, less pay; and minorities will feel their
pain compounded by the weight of marginalization. But 2020 is far
from a done deal, and activists, lawmakers, politicians, and voters
who want to live to see a better world (or, let’s face it, just live) should
prepare a fleet of ambitious policies to deploy in a historic fight for
fairness, justice, and equality.
The stakes could not be higher. There’s a narrative about the last
crash that begins with the first subprime mortgage and continues
through the bank bailout, the Occupy Wall Street protests, and the
Tea Party’s rise, then culminates with strong Republican gains in
the 2010 midterms, laying the ground for the election of Donald J.
Trump. That brings us to where we are today, with a veneer of eco-
nomic prosperity but few guarantees for working people in the future.
For conservatives, this narrative mirrors the arc of justice: The
market won. But for progressives, the road is paved with missed
opportunities. Where would we be if decarbonization had been a
precondition for the auto industry bailouts or if the banks’ welfare
checks had come stapled to tax reforms that redistributed wealth
downward? What might have happened to gender equality or
how we measure real unemployment and underemployment if the
Obama administration had thought to compensate the labor that
takes place in the home as well as in the office and on the factory
floor? Would people of color have lost fewer jobs, homes, and liveli-
hoods if economic recovery programs had been designed to address
rampant hiring discrimination? Was the previous crisis really the
last, best chance to set a more democratic precedent for antitrust
legislation and prevent the monopolistic, Uberized mess we’re in
today? As we continue to obsess over stock prices and prognosticate
the end of days (no one wants to be the sucker who didn’t call it), it’s
crucial to plan how not to squander the next crisis. We hope these
contributions from some of our experts on their various beats will
show Democrats—and perhaps an enlightened Republican or two—
that there are many alternatives.
ATOSSA ARAXIA ABRAHAMIAN
