On free-market capitalism, political spending, and Jane Mayer’s ‘Dark Money.’

On free-market capitalism, political spending, and Jane Mayer’s ‘Dark Money.’

So-called libertarian economic philosophy — which has been having a larger and larger influence on mainstream politics over the past few decades — doesn’t make sense.  Which is too bad.  I like the basic ideas behind capitalism.

And I love liberty.

But there are major logical inconsistencies in the popular conception of free market capitalism.

Economist Robert Reich recently published Saving Capitalism to address some of these misconceptions.  In the first few pages of his book, he dismisses the distinction between free markets and government intervention:

Reich_SavingCapitalism_Book_v3The question typically left to debate is how much intervention is warranted.  Conservatives want a smaller government and less intervention; liberals want a larger and more activist government.  This has become the interminable debate, the bone of contention that splits left from right in America and in much of the rest of the capitalist world.

But the prevailing view, as well as the debate it has spawned, is utterly false.  There can be no “free market” without government.  The “free market” does not exist in the wilds beyond the reach of civilization.  Competition in the wild is a contest for survival in which the largest and strongest typically win.  Civilization, by contrast, is defined by rules; rules create markets, and governments generate the rules.

A market — any market — requires that government make and enforce the rules of the game.  In most modern democracies, such rules emanate from legislatures, administrative agencies, and courts.  Government doesn’t “intrude” on the “free market.”  It creates the market.

Some would have you believe that, in a world of free-market capitalism, producers would extract oil from the ground however they want, process it however they want, sell it to whomever they want, keep the entirety of their spoils, then spend that money however they want.

This is, sadly, not what would happen in a world free of government intervention.

Instead, roving warlords would conquer the oil reserves.  Or the refinery.  There would be no money, so oil would have to be bartered for other goods.  But someone bringing huge quantities of oil to the market would likely be murdered, their possessions stolen.  It would be difficult to maintain inequality as extreme as we have in the contemporary United States, because the wealthy would pay huge sums to employ bodyguards.  Greater concentrations of wealth would lure greater extremes of violence.

But this is not the world that self-proclaimed libertarians envision.  Instead they support rules that favor the already wealthy; they claim that the peculiar set of rules they favor is free-market capitalism.  It is not.

This contrast is lucidly described in a passage from Matthew Desmond’s Evicted.  He focuses on the housing rental market, but his analysis applies equally well to many realms of our economy:

unnamed (3)Those who profit from the current situation — and those indifferent to it — will say that the housing market should be left alone to regulate itself.  They don’t really mean that.  Exploitation within the housing market relies on government support.  It is the government that legitimizes and defends landlords’ right to charge as much as they want; that subsidizes the construction of high-end apartments, bidding up rents and leaving the poor with even fewer options; that pays landlords when a family cannot, through onetime or ongoing housing assistance; that forcibly removes a family at landlords’ request by dispatching armed law enforcement officers; and that records and publicizes evictions, as a service to landlords and debt collection agencies.  Just as the police and the prison have worked to triage the ill effects of rising joblessness in the inner city (like social unrest or the growth of the underground economy), civil courts, sheriff deputies, and homeless shelters manage the fallout of rising housing costs among the urban poor and the privatization of the low-income housing market.

Without government intervention, the plight of the urban poor would not be nearly so miserable as it is today.  Landlords could not stake claims to huge numbers of properties throughout a city, because the impoverished would simply claim a place to live and retaliate with violence if a landlord asked them to leave.

This is the basic reason why I support progressive income taxes (and progressive wealth taxes, too).  I think that people should fund government to the extent that their life would become worse without it.  The poor are kept poor by our existing rules.  They cannot take the things they need.  I think they should pay a negative tax, i.e. receive an income supplement.  The wealthier someone is, the more likely that person would be murdered and robbed without the protections of government.  I think it is eminently reasonable for the wealthy to pay a higher percentage to maintain our current order.

9780385535595Of course, several extremely wealthy people do not agree with me.  As Jane Mayer documents in Dark Money, these individuals have used their wealth to promulgate a philosophy very different from my own.  Everybody knows that politicians can be bought — and cheaply, too, with hundred thousand dollar campaign contributions often resulting in million dollar lawsuits being dropped.  Well, academics can be bought, too.  University professors expend so much effort scrabbling for grants that it was unsurprising to learn how a few targeted donations led to steadfast ideological purity throughout the recipients’ careers.

These wealthy individuals (the Koch brothers, among others) self-describe as free market capitalists.  They claim to favor extremely limited governance, but their actions bely these claims.  In Mayer’s words,

Singer [who ran a hedge fund that bought “distressed debt in economically failing countries at a discount” then took “aggressive legal action to force the strapped nations, which had expected their loans to be forgiven, to instead pay him back at a profit”] described himself as a Goldwater free-enterprise conservative, and he contributed generously to promoting free-market ideology, but at the same time his firm reportedly sought unusual government help in squeezing several desperately impoverished governments, a contradiction that applied to many participants in the Koch donor network.

The wealthy political donors arguing for less government intervention in the economy are precisely those people who have benefited most from government intervention.  They might argue that their position is internally consistent because they feel that the sole function of a just government is the protection of property rights.

But this is nonsense.  All property carries a history of violence — government protection of “property rights” simply chooses an arbitrary cut-off date and legitimizes all violence that occurred on or before that date, while threatening violent reprisal against those who do not respect ownership claims from after that date.

Furthermore, the environmental regulations that Charles Koch denounces are property rights.  If you own a farm and somebody comes with a gun and tells you, “Get out, it’s mine now,” it’s pretty clear that the government has not protected your property rights.  But this isn’t so different from someone coming and setting fire to your farm — you used to have it, now you don’t.  It isn’t so different from someone starting a huge fire on their own property and letting the flames spread to yours.

And it isn’t so different from someone pumping out toxic sludge just upstream of your farm.  Your land was useful — it could grow food fit for human consumption.  If someone dumps a bunch of mercury upstream, now it can’t.  Most of the value of your property is gone, just as if someone had come and set fire to it.

If a corporation buys the land adjacent to your home and puts in a concentrated animal feeding operation, again, much of the value of your property will vanish.  It’s hard to breathe near those things, and most homeowners like to breathe.

Indeed, if you run a company that digs up coal or oil for people to burn, you should expect the government to tax your industry if you care about property rights.  Because your industry is wrecking property all over the globe.  At minimum, you should expect to compensate others for the losses you’re causing — that’s if a government protecting property rights would even allow you to churn out all that toxic waste.

But not everyone agrees.  In Mayer’s words,

Jane_mayer_2008The problem for this group [of oil & coal profiteers] was that by 2008 the arithmetic of climate change presented an almost unimaginable challenge.  If the world were to stay within the range of carbon emissions that scientists deemed reasonable in order for atmospheric temperatures to remain tolerable through the mid-century, 80 percent of the fossil fuel industry’s reserves would have to stay unused in the ground.  In other words, scientists estimated that the fossil fuel industry owned roughly five times more oil, gas, and coal than the planet could safely burn.  If the government interfered with the “free market” in order to protect the planet, the potential losses for these companies were catastrophic.  If, however, the carbon from these reserves were burned wantonly without the government applying any brakes, scientists predicted an intolerable rise in atmospheric temperatures, triggering potentially irreversible global damage to life on earth.

And, the solution?  Well, the real free market solution is simply to tax negative externalities so that harmful industries can make the correct cost benefit calculations.  If producers reap all the benefits but costs are spread over the entire population, they’ll make too much of a thing.

Indeed, this is a commonly-cited rationale for capitalism: back when many people’s wealth was their livestock, partitioned land holdings was seen as a cure for the tragedy of the commons.  A major cost of raising animals is feeding them, and without private land holdings everyone has an incentive to overgraze.

So, sure, I guess there’s another answer.  We could carve up the atmosphere, trap air in discrete boxes, try to stop all diffusion between them… and then allow the Koch brothers to pump out as much carbon dioxide as they want into their own home’s air.  Presumably they would make different choices, no government regulation required.  Or die — most laboratories gas dissection-bound mice with carbon dioxide.

But these solutions would make it slightly more difficult for our country’s wealthy to continue accumulating mind-boggling quantities of money.  So they’ve chosen a different plan: buy a bunch of academics to churn out philosophical nonsense nearly as toxic as the effluents from their industrial processes.  It’s depressing that this was so successful.

But let’s face it.  Philosophy is dull.  Economics is hard.  When enough people with fancy credentials trumpet nonsense loudly enough, it seems, people will believe.

In Mayer’s words,

When these donors began their quest to remake America along the lines of their beliefs, their ideas were, if anything, considered marginal.  They challenged the widely accepted post-World War II consensus that an activist government was a force for public good.  Instead they argued for “limited government,” drastically lower personal and corporate taxes, minimal social services for the needy, and much less oversight of industry, particularly in the environmental arena.  They said they were driven by principle, but their positions dovetailed seamlessly with their personal financial interests.

On Lisa Randall’s ‘Dark Matter and the Dinosaurs.’

On Lisa Randall’s ‘Dark Matter and the Dinosaurs.’

When you aim a telescope at the night sky, you can see a lot of stars.  You have to look harder than if Edison hadn’t been such a persistent tinkerer, but they’re all still out there.

From the colors of light emitted by each star, you can estimate its size.  And there are big whorls of gas, too.  These clouds also interact with light in a predictable way.  By looking up at the sky through a telescope, you can make a guess as to the total amount of stuff is out there.

But your guess would be wrong.

Milky WayThere’s another way you could guess: our solar system is spinning around the center of the Milky Way galaxy, held within its orbit by gravity.  Since we know how fast we’re moving, we know how much gravity there must be.  If there were more, we’d spiral inward to our doom, if there were less, we’d careen into space.

We’re held in place by more gravity than you’d expect if the only matter in our galaxy were stuff you could see.  Unseen stuff must be tugging us, too!  “Dark matter” refers to whatever is creating all the excess gravity we feel that can’t be accounted for by what we see.

“Dark matter” was discovered using logic very similar to Gabriel Zucman’s in The Hidden Wealth of Nations.  Dark matter is invisible when we look through a telescope, but we can identify where it must be when we look at clusters of stars that could only have their current shape if held together by a lot of extra gravity.  Similarly, money in illegal tax havens is invisible when we look at each nation’s tax records, but we can identify when it must exist when we look at all nations collectively and see strange absences of money.  In Zucman’s words (translated by Teresa Lavender Fagan):

GabrielZucman2015238x363.jpgThe following example shows it in a simple way: let’s imagine a British person who holds in her Swiss bank account a portfolio of American securities — for example, stock in Google.  What information is recorded in each country’s balance sheet?  In the United States, a liability: American statisticians see that foreigners hold US equities.  In Switzerland, nothing at all, and for a reason: the Swiss statisticians see some Google stock deposited in a Swiss bank, but they see that the stock belongs to a UK resident — and so they are neither assets nor liabilities for Switzerland.  In the United Kingdom, nothing is registered, either, but wrongly this time: the Office for National Statistics should record an asset for the United Kingdom, but it can’t, because it has no way of knowing that the British person has Google stock in her Geneva account.

As we can see, an anomaly arises — more liabilities than assets will tend to be recorded on a global level.  And, in fact, for as far back as statistics go, there is a “hole”: if we look at the world balance sheet, more financial securities are recorded as liabilities than as assets, as if planet Earth were in part held by Mars.  It is this imbalance that serves as the point of departure for my estimate of the amount of wealth held in tax havens globally.

Of course, in the case of tax havens, we know what the invisible stuff is.  Money is money.  I mean, sure, it’s more likely to be stocks or stakes in hedge funds or the like than big bundles of dollar bills, but you get the idea.

Whereas, dark matter?  No one knows for certain what it is.

In Lisa Randall’s Dark Matter and the Dinosaurs, she describes several of the prevailing theories for what this unseen stuff might be.

Before I say more, I should include a disclaimer: I’ve studied a lot of physics, but only for objects atom-sized or larger, planet-sized or smaller.  Which might sound like a wide range, but it isn’t wide enough.  Randall’s book builds toward a hypothesis involving extremely small particles agglomerated into clouds more massive than stars.

RandallRandall says that her primary motivation in writing the book was not to advocate for a link between the arrangement of dark matter in our galaxy and the asteroid collision that killed the dinosaurs.  She described her aims in a letter to the New York Review of Books, but it’s a strange letter — it puzzles me that she’d be so ardent about a distinction between the words “invisible” and “transparent” when several proposals for dark matter described in her book would indeed be astronomically invisible but not transparent, and when she herself uses the words interchangeably in chapter titles and the text through the latter half of her book.

But that dino tie-in was why I wanted to read the book.  I assume it’s why you’re reading this review.

So I think it’s worth describing why I thought it was so bizarre that she wrote a book about this hypothesis, even though I did learn some interesting facts from the first half.

Large_Underground_Xenon_detector_inside_watertankOne of the favored explanations for the nature of dark matter is that it’s made of “weakly-interacting massive particles,” or “WIMPs.”  Giant detectors are being built to test this.  Big vats of xenon buried deep underground.  WIMPs are postulated to interact through a short-range nuclear force, but not through electromagnetism.

It doesn’t feel good to type a sentence like the one above and know that it’s both essential to an explanation and likely to sound like gobbledygook.

So, electromagnetism?  This underlies the physics of our world.  “Electromagnetism” means, roughly, interacting with electricity and light.  It’s why we tend not to fall through floors or walk through walls.  Electrons repel each other, similar to the way two negative-ended magnets will squirm when you try to push them close to one another.  All the atoms of your body, and all the atoms of the floor, are slathered in electrons.  And so with every step you take, the electrons in the floor push against the electrons in your feet, keeping you afloat in a sea of mostly empty space.

But if dark matter doesn’t interact with electromagnetic forces, it could pass right through you.

Which might sound goofy or ghostly, but this much seemed reasonable to me.  After all, seemingly solid matter has been shown to be permeable repeatedly in the past.  I don’t just mean the loppered sea, the unnavigably thick waste thought to surround the known world during the Middle Ages.  Do you know about the gold foil experiment?

Ernest_Rutherford_1905The gold foil experiment was designed to test: are solids solid?  Particles were blasted at a sheet of gold foil.  If the sheet was solid, the particles should bounce off or get stuck.  Maybe rip holes in the foil.  But if the foil is mostly empty space, most particles should zip right through.

Helium nuclei were launched at the foil.  Most passed right through.  Only a rare few struck something solid and ricocheted.  The sheet of metal — which would seem solid if you touched it with your finger, because electron density in your skin gets pushed away by electrons in the metal foil — was permeable to “naked” nuclei, tiny balls of protons & neutrons not slathered in electron density.

Randall explains this with the analogy of parallel social networks.  Alternatively, you could think about the behavior of animals.  If a foreign squirrel comes into my yard, the squirrel who lives in our big tree will chase it away.  But rabbits can hop through without being harassed by that squirrel.

Because rabbits and squirrels don’t compete for food or mates, they can pass right through each others’ territories.

squirrel
Image by Nicole Nicky on Flickr.

(I hadn’t realized until recently that rabbits are also very territorial.  It took a lot of yelling before I was able to convince our pet rabbit Kichirou, who fancies himself something of a warrior, that he didn’t need to urinate on the bed & belongings of a dear friend when she came to visit.  He thought she was usurping our home.  She wasn’t!  She just wanted to nap, eat ice cream, & work on her art!  Silly rabbit.)

A squirrel, running toward another squirrel’s territory, might appear to ricochet.  The resident squirrel will launch into action, intercept & chase away the intruder.  But a rabbit can travel in a straight-ish leaf-nibbling line.

In the gold foil experiment, alpha particles (another name for those naked helium nuclei) pass right through electrons’ territory.  But they ricochet off other nuclei’s territory.  Dark matter could pass even closer.  It might share zero interactions with ordinary matter other than gravity, in which case it could travel anywhere unmolested, or it might have only the “weak nuclear force” in common with ordinary matter, in which case it would still have to pass very close to another nucleus before it bounced or swerved.

Electromagnetic forces kick in earlier than the weak nuclear force.  You can compare this to human senses.  If you’re out for a stroll at the same time I’m jogging with our pitbull Uncle Max, you can see us from farther away than you can smell us.  Even though Uncle Max still smells very pungently bad from the several times he’s been skunked this year.  Dude needs to learn that skunks don’t want to play.

IMG_5319.JPG
Yes, I’m smiling, but let’s be clear: he smells bad.

I think that’s enough background to give you a sense of Randall’s hypothesis, which begins with the following:

  • Maybe our planet has been periodically bombarded with asteroids — as in, most of the time few asteroids hit, and every so often there are a bunch of collisions.
  • Maybe the time interval between these collisions is approximately 30 million years long.
  • Maybe our solar system wobbles up and down across the central plane of the Milky Way as we orbit.
  • Maybe the time interval for these wobbles is the same 30 million years.
  • Maybe traversing the central plane of the Milky Way is what increases the chance of stray asteroids hitting us (if the likelihood does periodically increase).
  • Maybe not all dark matter is made of the same stuff.
  • Maybe some of the dark matter (not that we know what any of it is), in addition to interacting through gravity, has a self-attractive force that it uses to cluster together.
  • Maybe dark matter, if the right fraction of it had this property, would form a big disc across the central plane of our galaxy.
  • Maybe the up & down wobble of our solar system (if it occurs) causes it to cross that disc (if it exists) every 30 million years or so, which is why asteroid bombardment increases at those times (if it does).

This long string of conjectures is the main reason I thought a book-length treatment of this hypothesis was premature.  To my mind, it is a disservice to the general public to cloak hypothetical storytelling in the trappings of academic science.  I think this passage Randall wrote about Occam’s Razor really demonstrates why I have qualms:

Both casual observers of science and scientists themselves frequently employ Occam’s Razor for guidance when evaluating scientific proposals.  This oft-cited principle says that the simplest theory that explains a phenomenon is most likely to be the best one.

Yet two factors undermine the authority of Occam’s Razor, or at least suggest caution when using it as a crutch. … Theories that conform to the dictates of Occam’s Razor sometimes similarly address one outstanding problem while creating issues elsewhere — usually in some other aspect of the theory that embraces it.

My second concern about Occam’s Razor is just a matter of fact.  The world is more complicated than any of us would have been likely to conceive.  Some particles and properties don’t seem necessary to any physical processes that matter — at least according to what we’ve deduced so far.

I disagree with this sentiment… especially in a book targeted toward a popular audience.  It’s true that the world is sometimes very complex.  But we need Occam’s Razor because elaborate explanations can always fit data better than simple explanations.  This is why conspiracy theorists are able to account for every single detail — look at that man shaking an umbrella!  It’s a signal! — whereas a simpler explanation — it was a lone crazy with a gun — leaves much unaccounted for.

In science, the problem is called “overfitting data.”  If you have ten dots on a chart, you might be able to draw a straight line that passes kinda close to all of them… but a squiggly line could be drawn right through every single point!

Occam’s Razor suggests: stick with the line.  Unless there’s a compelling reason to believe a more complicated explanation is correct, you shouldn’t try to account for every single detail.

Similarly, if Randall thought there was compelling astronomical data that showed our solar system wobbling up and down at the same times that asteroid strikes increase in frequency, she ought to propose that these phenomena are linked.  But, given that these data are already nebulous, why complicate the proposal by saying that a dark matter disc underlies the link?  Why say that a particular fraction of dark matter needs to have a certain type of force in order to form a disc of that shape?

Yes, storytelling is important.  These wild explanations have a vital role in science — they inspire experiments to test the ideas.  If some of the experiments yield positive results, then it’s worth telling the story to the public.  But the initial speculation?  That part isn’t science.  It seems unhelpful for a Harvard professor to promote it as such.

I was also thrown off by some of the pop culture references that pepper the text.  Most seemed unnecessary but innocuous, like “WIMPs [weakly-interacting massive particles], unlike Obi-Wan Kenobi, are not our only hope, though as far as these detection methods are concerned, they are in many ways our best one.  Direct detection works only when there is some interaction between Standard Model and dark matter particles, and WIMP models guarantee that possibility.”  Mentioning Star Wars didn’t seem to accomplish anything other than an are you paying attention? nudge in the ribs, but the allusion didn’t impede my understanding.

Worse was a metaphor that misrepresents the history of economic injustice in the United States without elucidating the physics Randall is describing:

Camden_NJ_povertyAnother proposed explanation for the paucity of observed satellite galaxies and sparser-than-expected inner galaxy cores is that supernova explosions expel material out of the inner portions of their host galaxies, leaving behind a far less dense inner core.  The resulting dark matter distribution might be compared to that of an urban population in its densest inner city regions, where — in the aftermath of unrest — explosions of violence have stemmed the growth to leave a depleted core.  The inner galaxy that has seen too much supernova outflow doesn’t grow in density toward the center any more than would a sparsely occupied inner city.

Analogies often are the best way to explain science to a general audience.  Take something unfamiliar, show how it’s similar to something people know.  And no analogy is perfect, obviously.  There will always be differences between the unfamiliar scientific concept and the everyday experience you’re relating it to.

But it can hurt understanding when an analogy is used incorrectly.  Perhaps there are climates where rabbits and squirrels do compete for food, in which case my earlier analogy for the behavior of non-interacting particles might confuse someone.  If such a climate exists, a person living there might think, What’s he talking about?  I watch squirrels chase rabbits all the time!

Regarding galaxies that have low density near the center, I think the comparison to urban unrest doesn’t work.  In cities, violence usually follows a drop in population; violence doesn’t cause the drop.  Here’s Matthew Desmond’s description from Evicted:

desmondMilwaukee used to be flush with good jobs.  But throughout the second half of the twentieth century, bosses in search of cheap labor moved plants overseas or to Sunbelt communities, where unions were weaker or didn’t exist.  Between 1979 and 1983, Milwaukee’s manufacturing sector lost more jobs than during the Great Depression — about 56,000 of them.  The city where virtually everyone had a job in the postwar years saw its unemployment rate climb into the double digits.  Those who found new work in the emerging service sector took a pay cut.  As one historian observed, “Machinists in the old Allis-Chalmers plant earned at least $11.60 an hour; clears in the shopping center that replaced much of that plant in 1987 earned $5.23.

These economic transformations — which were happening in cities across America — devastated Milwaukee’s black workers, half of whom held manufacturing jobs.  When plants closed, they tended to close in the inner city, where black Milwaukeeans lived.  The black poverty rate rose to 28 percent in 1980.  By 1990, it had climbed to 42 percent.

After poverty came squalor.  After squalor, violence.

To me, it sounds disquietingly like blaming the victims to claim that violence drove people away, when in reality the violence only began after the middle class & most of the decent jobs had left.

Not that I know of a better analogy for the low-density interiors of galaxies.  The best I can think of are the ring-like structures of bacterial colonies — they end up that way because early generations deplete all the nutrients from the center and fill it with toxic waste — but that isn’t a good analogy because many people are equally unfamiliar with bacterial growth patterns.

Nobody’s gonna suddenly understand if you compare an unfamiliar concept to something else that’s equally unfamiliar.

All told — and despite the fact that I learned a fair bit from the first half of the book — I can’t think of anyone whom I’d recommend Dark Matter and the Dinosaurs to.  The idea is interesting, sure.  If you’re an astronomer, maybe you should think about experiments to test it.  But working astronomers wouldn’t need all the background information presented in the book — they would want to read Randall & Reece’s article in Physical Review Letters instead.  You get the hypothesis and some supporting data in just five pages, as opposed to 300+ pages for the hypothesis alone.

That leaves general audiences.  But, this isn’t science yet!  This is storytelling.  Toward the end of the book, Randall even mentions that there’s enough speculation underlying the hypothesis for the whole thing to be illusory:

What astrophysicists were really saying was that there was no need for a dark disk.  Given the uncertainties in densities in all the known gas and star components, the measured potential could be accounted for by known matter alone.

I think it’s situations like this that really demonstrate the value of Occam’s Razor.  Our knowledge of the world is imperfect.  One way to acknowledge our ignorance is to prefer simple explanations: instead of accounting for every single detail, we accept that some details about what we think we know might be incorrect.  The man was shaking an umbrella because of an inside joke?  You mean, he had no idea the president would die?  That’s an awfully big coincidence, don’t you think?

Why write an entire book — with such an attention-grabbing title! — when all the data you’re accounting for might be measurement uncertainties?

On Edin & Shaefer’s ‘$2.00 a Day.’

On Edin & Shaefer’s ‘$2.00 a Day.’

K & I live pretty cheaply.

We try not to spend too much on food, but we always buy fresh fruits and vegetables.  We stock up on pasta when it’s on sale — on a recent shopping trip we bought 40 pounds at $0.50 per pound — and we eat a lot of rice, homemade bread, lentils, beans we rehydrate ourselves.  Still, I give us a budget of $30 per day for food, almost double what SNAP (supplemental nutrition assistance program, or “food stamps”) would let somebody spend.

Then there’s our mortgage, which costs another $30 per day.  We have two phones between us, which together cost $1.80 per day.  Internet, $1.50 per day.  Heat, water, and electricity?  Another $5.00 (which might sound like a lot — our little city prices water such that you pay more per unit the more you use, and N wears cloth diapers).  Our car needs gas and maintenance; even though we had enough in savings to buy it outright, it still costs us close to $2 per day.  Our sundry insurance policies (car, health, life, homeowner’s), roughly $20 daily.

We’re not profligate spenders.  Graduate school stipends aren’t huge amounts of money, and California’s Bay Area is an expensive place to live, but we were able to put away a lot of savings during our time there.  Starting salaries for public school teachers aren’t so high, either — because K had eight years’ worth of continuing education credits from her Ph.D., she started at $37k here — but we were supporting four adults on her salary for a while.  During those first few years we made do without a car, and the rent we were paying was cheaper than our mortgage is now, and I had to cut our food budget back from grad school’s fancy-pants $15 per person per day to about $6.  We had fewer treats like cauliflower, eggplant, and chocolate than we do now.

We’ve been lucky enough to rarely visit doctors or hospitals (except when I’d go retrieve K’s father after his government-funded surgeries).  The cost of what little care we receive is typically bundled up with our insurance.  But we maxed out our co-pay when N was born, and we’ll max it out again when we have another kid.  So — most years, zero, some years, $10 per day.  I’ll budget the higher number.

We pay $1.90 per day for childcare.  People who look after children ought to be compensated much better than they are now; it’s absurd how little this is valued in our country.  At the same time, I’m grateful that we can afford such high-quality childcare.

We wear clothes till threadbare.  I’d estimate that our whole family spends no more than $0.50 per day on clothes.  Most of my best shirts have come from the dumpsters after the university students moved out.

Still, our current version of austerity has us spending over $100 per day.

Reading Kathryn Edin & H. Luke Shaefer’s $2.00 a Day was brutal.

unnamed.jpgEdin & Shaefer spent time with impoverished families to learn what life is like at the bottom of our nation’s income distribution.  Their work focuses on anecdote and portraiture.  Despite the fact that, as a math brain, I love numbers and statistics, I was completely convinced that their method was best for this project.  In their words:

In big, nationally representative surveys (like the one that provides the hard numbers for this book), families may not always tell researchers (usually government employees) about income from all of the survival strategies described in this chapter.  A mom with one child who tells a researcher that she had $120 in income during a particular month might actually have had $180 because she donated plasma twice or sold $100 in SNAP benefits in exchange for $60 in cash.  When queried by researchers, a mother may fear prosecution if she reports that she got money from a “friend” in exchange for sex.  Some may simply forget to report the cash they get from collecting aluminum cans — perhaps because it is so irregular or the profit is so small.  Others — particularly those who are homeless or otherwise on the move, shifting from the home of one relative to another — may not even appear in big government surveys because they have no stable address.  The only way to get a true accounting of the resources of the $2-a-day poor is to spend large amounts of time with them, build trust, and meticulously document their circumstances.  But this kind of research is time-consuming.  Without millions of research dollars, it is impossible to identify and follow a large random sample of the $2-a-day poor, which would be the only way to paint a reliable national portrait of what they must do to survive.

Because it takes a lot of ingenuity to survive extreme poverty, everyone’s solutions are unique.  Aggregate statistics would cause you to overlook the idiosyncratic blend of trash picking, plasma selling, sexual favor trading, and apartment sharing that allows people to scrape by.  But Edin & Shaefer, by taking time to get to know people, were able to see these strategies.

Edin & Shaefer argue — correctly, I’m convinced — that you can’t learn what it takes to survive poverty when you think about people as numbers.  You have to get to know people as individual human beings.  Then you can understand.

Here’s a quick summary of what they found: 1.) People are hungry.  2.) When you’re depending on others for shelter, sexual assault is rampant.  3.) These assaults, and negative encounters with the police, and pervasive fear — that the car will break, that Walmart won’t assign enough hours, that there won’t be food tonight — has led to innumerable cases of PTSD.  Which makes it even harder to think, to plan, to do anything but worry.

The statistical problems Edin & Shaefer described in the quote above mean we don’t know how many people are living this way.  But a reasonable guess is: many.  In their words again:

unnamed (1)Where do we see hard evidence of the rise in extreme poverty among families with children?  It is evident in the SIPP, the nationally representative survey that does the best job of capturing the incomes of the poor.  It is seen in SNAP administrative records, which show a sharp uptick in the number of families reporting no other form of income save SNAP.  In fact, the SNAP estimates match those from the SIPP survey remarkably closely.  Reports in some major cities suggest increased demand for family shelter beds starting in the early 2000s, as well as an increase in the number of families seeking emergency food services that predates the Great Recession.  But the best proof of all that the $2-a-day poor exist is that finding people who fit this profile … is not that hard.  It can be done in a relatively short amount of time in a number of locales across the country.  This virtually cashless form of poverty is out there, even though we wish it weren’t.  And it has grown.

Perhaps I should mention, now, that the comparison between my family’s spending and the daily cash allotment of many people in extreme poverty is somewhat flawed.  For instance, I included our mortgage.  Many people in extreme poverty spend a portion of each year paying no rent — they might be renting an apartment but using their money on other expenses, knowing that they’re about to be evicted, or they might be in a shelter, or sleeping in a car, or sharing housing with a relative or romantic partner or complete stranger.

But, during those times when people at the bottom of the income distribution do pay for their own housing, they often pay more than my family does.  For unsafe, unsound properties.  This phenomenon is described in Matthew Desmond’s Evicted:

unnamed (3)… rent in some of the worst neighborhoods was not drastically cheaper than rent in much better areas.  For example, in the city’s poorest neighborhoods, where at least 40 percent of families lived below the poverty line, median rent for a two-bedroom apartment was only $50 less than the citywide median.

This has long been the case.  When tenements began appearing in New York City in the mid-1800s, rent in the worst slums was 30 percent higher than in uptown.  In the 1920s and ‘30s, rent for dilapidated housing in the black ghettos of Milwaukee and Philadelphia and other northern cities exceeded that for better housing in white neighborhoods.  As late as 1960, rent in major cities was higher for blacks than for whites in similar accommodations.  The poor did not crowd into slums because of cheap housing.  They were there — and this was especially true of the black poor — simply because they were allowed to be.

There are so few options at the bottom that poor people get squeezed much harder than those who could actually afford it.

Similarly, my family’s $100+ daily expenses includes everything we spend on food.  At the bottom of the income distribution, most people have access to SNAP — other than my wife, everyone in her family received these.

K’s father actually had enough to eat when he was on SNAP.  We helped him buy a bus pass, so he was able to ride out to a real grocery store.  But many people who receive SNAP don’t have access to transportation, which forces them to shop at the one small store nearby, which means they often pay more than wealthier shoppers for equivalent items.  When you’re getting gouged, food stamps don’t go far.  Worse, you might need to buy gas so that you can get to work.  Food stamps don’t buy gas.  You’d be stuck trading your stamps for cash at something like 50 or 30 cents to the dollar.  At the end of the month, you & your kids won’t eat.

Childhood food insecurity causes lifelong mental and physical changes.  My dear friend who made it gets laughed at all the time because food makes her behave so strangely — she still hears that voice in her head urging her to stake out her own portion when she sits down to a family-style dinner with people.

The people laughing have never been hungry.

The people laughing have bones that break less easily.

And I included the amount K & I spend on insurance.  So many types of insurance!  People living in extreme poverty often pay nothing for insurance.  There’s no money for it.

But this means, obviously, that poor people have to spend more eventually.  In Hand to Mouth, Linda Tirado writes that she did not grow up impoverished.  But she was poor enough as a young adult that she couldn’t afford insurance, which meant she was a single flood away from losing everything she owned.

There are countless stories of U.S. citizens who were getting by — not doing well, but not struggling to survive — until a medical disaster left them unable to work & swamped with unpaid bills.

Which means yet another challenge that poor people in this country have to face that us lucky wealthy ones can remain blissfully ignorant of.  Honestly, the fact that I could list my family’s expenses at all reveals how well off we are.  We can budget our spending, because spending, for wealthy people, is relatively stable.  We have enough money that we can set some aside for eventual car repairs, which means we won’t have to borrow when our car breaks, or lose a job, or…

Could people living in extreme poverty set aside money for those eventual expenses?  Honestly, no.  If you’re hungry — worse, if you’re watching your kid be hungry — you spend money on food.  Or so I’ve heard.  I’m lucky.  I get to learn about poverty from books instead of by living it.

Of course, this also means I have to deal with the attendant shame of reading books like Edin & Shaefer’s.  The message is clear: we, as a people, are failing.  We should not have made a world where people have to live like this.

It’s not as though the solution is so difficult to come up with, either.  I disagree with some of Paul Theroux’s economic ideas here, but you should take a moment to read his lovely editorial, “The Hypocrisy of ‘Helping’ the Poor.”

Yes, food stamps help.  No, they don’t help enough.  But the real solution isn’t to boost social welfare spending (although that would be a step in the right direction).  Many people living in extreme poverty want to work.  But there aren’t jobs.  (In the future, there’ll be even fewer).

And yet much of our nation’s infrastructure is crumbling.  We would all be better off if the federal government started pouring money into laying fiber-optic cable; fixing roads; manufacturing, installing, & maintaining solar panels; providing low-cost, well-compensated, high-quality childcare…

There’s plenty that could be done, and there are people who would be thrilled at the chance to do it.  Instead, we’re leaving them stranded: hungry, assaulted, cold, traumatized.