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Recent events in Ukraine have raised important questions about Russian ambitions in the former Soviet space and the future political perspectives of the countries caught between Russia and the European Union. These countries are facing substantial obstacles in their efforts to maintain balanced relations with the United States, the European Union and the Russian Federation because of increased Russian political, economic and military pressures. In Ukraine, the annexation of Crimea and the ongoing turmoil in the East threaten the Ukrainian government's ability to maintain its independence and the sovereignty of Ukraine. Georgia and Moldova have expressed their intention to sign Association Agreements with the European Union, but increasingly face the prospects of destabilizing Russian economic sanctions and even the possible rekindling of their “frozen conflicts” in Abkhazia, South Ossetia and Transnistria.

On April 29, the Center on the United States and Europe at Brookings (CUSE) will host the ambassadors of Georgia, Moldova and Ukraine—Ambassadors Archil Gegeshidze, Olexander Motsyk and Igor Munteanu—as well as Eric Rubin, U.S. deputy assistant secretary of State for European and Eurasian Affairs, to discuss the dilemmas of these countries and possible solutions. Fiona Hill, director of CUSE, will introduce the speakers and moderate the discussion.

After opening remarks, panelists will take questions from the audience.

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On May 20, 2008, the Center on the United States and Europe held its fifth annual conference. As is in previous years, the Conference brought together leading scholars, officials, and policymakers from both sides of the Atlantic to examine issues shaping the transatlantic relationship and to assess the evolving roles of the United States and Europe in the global arena.

Gary Schmitt of the American Enterprise Institute; Sir Lawrence Freedman of King’s College, London; Gideon Rachman of the Financial Times; former Norwegian Foreign Minister Jan Petersen; and Strobe Talbott, President of The Brookings Institution joined other prominent panelists and CUSE scholars for this year’s sessions. The series of panel discussions explored transatlantic relations beyond the Bush presidency, Sarkozy’s plans for France’s EU presidency, and the future of Russia under Medvedev.

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With many national economies slipping back into recession and voters in Greece, France and the United Kingdom rejecting austerity measures in recent elections, the European political and economic landscape has shifted again. Europe now seems headed towards a revised social contract and a new round of negotiations to respond to the continuing financial crisis. The United States, while experiencing a mild recovery, also strives to find the right balance between fiscal consolidation and growth preservation—a mission made more challenging with the upcoming November elections. A new loss of confidence in Europe may well imperil the U.S. economy’s fragile recovery. Will similar anti-austerity political currents cross the Atlantic and bring "change" to the United States? Despite the crisis, transatlantic cooperation has increased during the Obama administration, but U.S.-EU relations will be subjected to critical examination during the election year.

On May 23, the same day European leaders will gather for an extraordinary summit in Brussels, the Center on the United States at Brookings (CUSE) and the Heinrich Böll Foundation hosted a discussion featuring experts and top officials from both sides of the Atlantic for the 2012 CUSE Annual Conference. Panelists explored critical issues shaping the future of transatlantic relations in a year of elections and political transitions, from the euro crisis and the future of NATO to relations with Russia, Turkey and the Middle East.

After each panel, participants took audience questions.

The event is available in full on C-SPAN »

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• NATO in Afghanistan: In Together, Out Together
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• Visions of Europe in an Election Year: Part 1
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Americans often think of our country as being one of great opportunity – where anyone can rise from very modest circumstances, if they work hard and make good choices. We believe that often remains true.

But, for children and youth growing up in poverty, such upward mobility in America is too rare. Indeed, just 30 percent of those growing up in poverty make it to middle class or higher as adults. Though we’ve made progress in reducing poverty over the past several decades, our poverty rates are still too high and our rate of economic advancement for poor children has been stuck for decades. That is an embarrassment for a nation that prides itself on everyone having a shot at the American Dream.

What can we do to reduce poverty and increase economic mobility? In our polarized and poisoned political atmosphere, it is hard to reach consensus on policy efforts. Both progressives and conservatives want lower poverty; but progressives want more public spending programs to improve opportunity and security for the poor, while conservatives generally argue for more responsibility from them before providing more help.

Even so, progressives and conservatives might not be as far apart as these stereotypes suggest. The two of us—one a conservative Republican and the other a progressive Democrat—were recently part of an ideologically balanced group of 15 scholars brought together by the American Enterprise Institute and the Brookings Institution. Our charge was to generate a report with policy proposals to reduce poverty and increase upward mobility. An additional goal was simply to see whether we could arrive at consensus among ourselves, and bridge the ideological divide that has so paralyzed our political leaders.

Together we decided that the most important issues facing poor Americans and their children are family, education and work. We had to listen to each other’s perspectives on these issues, and be open to others’ truths. We also agreed to be mindful of the research evidence on these topics. In the end, we managed to generate a set of policy proposals we all find compelling.

To begin with, the progressives among us had to acknowledge that marriage is a positive family outcome that reduces poverty and raises upward mobility in America. The evidence is clear: stable two-parent families have positive impacts on children’s success, and in America marriage is the strongest predictor of such stability. Therefore marriage should be promoted as the norm in America, along with responsible and delayed child-bearing.

At the same time, the conservatives among us had to acknowledge that investing more resources in the skills and employability of poor adults and children is crucial if we want them to have higher incomes over time. Indeed, stable families are hard to maintain when the parents – including both the custodial mothers and the (often) non-custodial fathers – struggle to maintain employment and earn enough to support their families. Investing in proven, cost-effective, education and training programs such as high-quality preschool and training for jobs in high-growth economic sectors can improve the skills and employability of kids from poor families and lift them out of poverty through work.

Another important compromise was that progressives acknowledged that expecting and even requiring adults on public assistance to work can reduce poverty, as we learned in the 1990s from welfare reform; programs today like Disability Insurance, among others, need reforms to encourage more work. And reforms that encourage innovation and accountability would make our public education programs for the poor more effective at all levels. We need more choice in public K-12 education (through charter schools) and a stronger emphasis on developing and retaining effective teachers, while basing our state subsidies to higher education institutions more heavily on graduation rates, employment, and earnings of their graduates.

Conservatives also had to acknowledge that requiring the poor to work only makes sense when work is available to them. In periods or places with weak labor markets, we might need to create jobs for some by subsidizing their employment in either the private or public sector (as we did during the Great Recession). We agreed that no one should be dropped from the benefit rolls unless they have been offered a suitable work activity and rejected it. And we also need to “make work pay” for those who remain unskilled or can find only low-wage jobs – by expanding the Earned Income Tax Credit (especially for adults without custody of children) and modestly raising the minimum wage.

We also all agreed on other topics. For instance, work-based learning—in the form of paid apprenticeships and other models of high-quality career and technical education—can play an important role in raising both skills and work experience among poor youth and adults.  And, if we raise public spending for the poor, we need to pay for it—and not increase federal deficits. We all agree that reducing certain tax deductions for high-income families and making our retirement programs more progressive are good ways to finance our proposals.

As our report demonstrates, it is possible for progressives and conservatives to bridge their differences and reach compromises to generate a set of policies that will reduce poverty and improve upward mobility. Can Congress and the President do the same?

Editor's Note: this piece first appeared in Inside Sources.

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At the very heart of the American idea is the notion that, unlike in other places, we can start from nothing and through hard work have everything. That nothing we can imagine is beyond our reach. That we will pull up stakes, go anywhere, do anything to make our dreams come true. But what if that's just a myth? What if the truth is something very different? What if we are…stuck?

I. What does it mean to be an American?

Full disclosure: I'm British. Partial defense: I was born on the Fourth of July. I also have made my home here, because I want my teenage sons to feel more American. What does that mean? I don't just mean waving flags and watching football and drinking bad beer. (Okay, yes, the beer is excellent now; otherwise, it would have been a harder migration.) I'm talking about the essence of Americanism. It is a question on which much ink—and blood—has been spent. But I think it can be answered very simply: To be American is to be free to make something of yourself. An everyday phrase that's used to admire another ("She's really made something of herself") or as a proud boast ("I'm a self-made man!"), it also expresses a theological truth. The most important American-manufactured products are Americans themselves. The spirit of self-creation offers a strong and inspiring contrast with English identity, which is based on social class. In my old country, people are supposed to know their place. British people, still constitutionally subjects of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, can say things like "Oh, no, that's not for people like me." Infuriating.

Americans do not know their place in society; they make their place. American social structures and hierarchies are open, fluid, and dynamic. Mobility, not nobility. Or at least that's the theory. Here's President Obama, in his second inaugural address: "We are true to our creed when a little girl born into the bleakest poverty knows that she has the same chance to succeed as anybody else because she is an American; she is free, and she is equal, not just in the eyes of God but also in our own."

Politicians of the left in Europe would lament the existence of bleak poverty. Obama instead attacks the idea that a child born to poor parents will inherit their status. "The same chance to succeed as anybody else because she is an American…."

Americanism is a unique and powerful cocktail, blending radical egalitarianism (born equal) with fierce individualism (it's up to you): equal parts Thomas Paine and Horatio Alger. Egalitarian individualism is in America's DNA. In his original draft of the Declaration of Independence, Thomas Jefferson wrote that "men are created equal and independent," a sentiment that remained even though the last two words were ultimately cut. It was a declaration not only of national independence but also of a nation of independents.

The problem lately is not the American Dream in the abstract. It is the growing failure to realize it. Two necessary ingredients of Americanism—meritocracy and momentum—are now sorely lacking.

America is stuck.

Almost everywhere you look—at class structures, Congress, the economy, race gaps, residential mobility, even the roads—progress is slowing. Gridlock has already become a useful term for political inactivity in Washington, D. C. But it goes much deeper than that. American society itself has become stuck, with weak circulation and mobility across class lines. The economy has lost its postwar dynamism. Racial gaps, illuminated by the burning of churches and urban unrest, stubbornly persist.

In a nation where progress was once unquestioned, stasis threatens. Many Americans I talk to sense that things just aren't moving the way they once were. They are right. Right now this prevailing feeling of stuckness, of limited possibilities and uncertain futures, is fueling a growing contempt for institutions, from the banks and Congress to the media and big business, and a wave of antipolitics on both left and right. It is an impotent anger that has yet to take coherent shape. But even if the American people don't know what to do about it, they know that something is profoundly wrong.

II. How stuck are we?

Let's start with the most important symptom: a lack of social mobility. For all the boasts of meritocracy—only in America!—Americans born at the bottom of the ladder are in fact now less likely to rise to the top than those situated similarly in most other nations, and only half as likely as their Canadian counterparts. The proportion of children born on the bottom rung of the ladder who rise to the top as adults in the U.S. is 7.5 percent—lower than in the U.K. (9 percent), Denmark (11.7), and Canada (13.5). Horatio Alger has a funny Canadian accent now.

It is not just poverty that is inherited. Affluent Americans are solidifying their own status and passing it on to their children more than the affluent in other nations and more than they did in the past. Boys born in 1948 to a high-earning father (in the top quarter of wage distribution) had a 33 percent chance of becoming a top earner themselves; for those born in 1980, the chance of staying at the top rose sharply to 44 percent, according to calculations by Manhattan Institute economist Scott Winship. The sons of fathers with really high earnings—in the top 5 percent—are much less likely to tumble down the ladder in the U. S. than in Canada (44 percent versus 59 percent). A "glass floor" prevents even the least talented offspring of the affluent from falling. There is a blockage in the circulation of the American elite as well, a system-wide hardening of the arteries.

Exhibit A in the case against the American political elites: the U. S. tax code. To call it Byzantine is an insult to medieval Roman administrative prowess. There is one good reason for this complexity: The American tax system is a major instrument of social policy, especially in terms of tax credits to lower-income families, health-care subsidies, incentives for retirement savings, and so on. But there are plenty of bad reasons, too—above all, the billions of dollars' worth of breaks and exceptions resulting from lobbying efforts by the very people the tax system favors.

So fragile is the American political ego that we can't go five minutes without congratulating ourselves on the greatness of our system, yet policy choices exacerbate stuckness.

The American system is also a weak reed when it comes to redistribution. You will have read and heard many times that the United States is one of the most unequal nations in the world. That is true, but only after the impact of taxes and benefits is taken into account. What economists call "market inequality," which exists before any government intervention at all, is much lower—in fact it's about the same as in Germany and France. There is a lot going on under the hood here, but the key point is clear enough: America is unequal because American policy moves less money from rich to poor. Inequality is not fate or an act of nature. Inequality is a choice.

These are facts that should shock America into action. For a nation organized principally around the ideas of opportunity and openness, social stickiness of this order amounts to an existential threat. Although political leaders declare their dedication to openness, the hard issues raised by social inertia are receiving insufficient attention in terms of actual policy solutions. Most American politicians remain cheerleaders for the American Dream, merely offering loud encouragement from the sidelines, as if that were their role. So fragile is the American political ego that we can't go five minutes without congratulating ourselves on the greatness of our system, yet policy choices exacerbate stuckness and ensure decline.

In Britain (where stickiness has historically been an accepted social condition), by contrast, the issues of social mobility and class stickiness have risen to the top of the political and policy agenda. In the previous U.K. government (in which I served as director of strategy to Nick Clegg, the deputy prime minister), we devoted whole Cabinet meetings to the problems of intergenerational mobility and the development of a new national strategy. (One result has been a dramatic expansion in pre-K education and care: Every 3- and 4-year-old will soon be entitled to 30 hours a week for free.) Many of the Cabinet members were schooled at the nation's finest private high schools. A few had hereditary titles. But they pored over data and argued over remedies—posh people worrying over intergenerational income quintiles.

Why is social mobility a hotter topic in the old country? Here is my theory: Brits are acutely aware that they live in a class-divided society. Cues and clues of accent, dress, education, and comportment are constantly calibrated. But this awareness increases political pressure to reduce these divisions. In America, by contrast, the myth of classlessness stands in the way of progress. The everyday folksiness of Americans—which, to be clear, I love—serves as a social camouflage for deep economic inequality. Americans tell themselves and one another that they live in a classless land of open opportunity. But it is starting to ring hollow, isn't it?

III. For black Americans, claims of equal opportunity have, of course, been false from the founding.

They remain false today. The chances of being stuck in poverty are far, far greater for black kids. Half of those born on the bottom rung of the income ladder (the bottom fifth) will stay there as adults. Perhaps even more disturbing, seven out of ten black kids raised in middle-income homes (i.e., the middle fifth) will end up lower down as adults. A boy who grows up in Baltimore will earn 28 percent less simply because he grew up in Baltimore: In other words, this supersedes all other factors. Sixty-six percent of black children live in America's poorest neighborhoods, compared with six percent of white children.

Recent events have shone a light on the black experience in dozens of U. S. cities.

Behind the riots and the rage, the statistics tell a simple, damning story. Progress toward equality for black Americans has essentially halted. The average black family has an income that is 59 percent of the average white family's, down from 65 percent in 2000. In the job market, race gaps are immobile, too. In the 1950s, black Americans were twice as likely to be unemployed as whites. And today? Still twice as likely.

From heeding the call "Go west, young man" to loading up the U-Haul in search of a better job, the instinctive restlessness of America has always matched skills to work, people to opportunities, labor to capital.

Race gaps in wealth are perhaps the most striking of all. The average white household is now thirteen times wealthier than the average black one. This is the widest gap in a quarter of a century. The recession hit families of all races, but it resulted in a wealth wipeout for black families. In 2007, the average black family had a net worth of $19,200, almost entirely in housing stock, typically at the cheap, fragile end of the market. By 2010, this had fallen to $16,600. By 2013—by which point white wealth levels had started to recover—it was down to $11,000. In national economic terms, black wealth is now essentially nonexistent.

Half a century after the passing of the Civil Rights Act, the arc of history is no longer bending toward justice. A few years ago, it was reasonable to hope that changing attitudes, increasing education, and a growing economy would surely, if slowly, bring black America and white America closer together. No longer. America is stuck.

IV. The economy is also getting stuck.

Labor productivity growth, measured as growth in output per hour, has averaged 1.6 percent since 1973. Male earning power is flatlining. In 2014, the median full-time male wage was $50,000, down from $53,000 in 1973 (in the dollar equivalent of 2014). Capital is being hoarded rather than invested in the businesses of the future. U. S. corporations have almost $1.5 trillion sitting on their balance sheets, and many are busily buying up their own stock. But capital expenditure lags, hindering the economic recovery.

New-business creation and entrepreneurial activity are declining, too. As economist Robert Litan has shown, the proportion of "baby businesses" (firms less than a year old) has almost halved since the late 1970s, decreasing from 15 percent to 8 percent—the hallmark of "a steady, secular decline in business dynamism." It is significant that this downward trend set in long before the Great Recession hit. There is less movement between jobs as well, another symptom of declining economic vigor.

Americans are settling behind their desks—and also into their neighborhoods. The proportion of American adults moving house each year has decreased by almost half since the postwar years, to around 12 percent. Long-distance moves across state lines have as well. This is partly due to technological advances, which have weakened the link between location and job prospects, and partly to the growth of economic diversity in cities; there are few "one industry" towns today. But it is also due to a less vibrant housing market, slower rates of new business creation, and a lessening in Americans' appetite for disruption, change, and risk.

This geographic settling is at odds with historic American geographic mobility. From heeding the call "Go west, young man" to loading up the U-Haul in search of a better job, the instinctive restlessness of America has always matched skills to work, people to opportunities, labor to capital. Rather than waiting for help from the government, or for the economic tide to turn back in their favor, millions of Americans changed their life prospects by changing their address. Now they are more likely to stay put and wait. Others, especially black Americans, are unable to escape the poor neighborhoods of their childhood. They are, as the title of an influential book by sociologist Patrick Sharkey puts it, Stuck in Place.

There are everyday symptoms of stuckness, too. Take transport. In 2014, Americans collectively spent almost seven billion hours stuck motionless in traffic—that's a couple days each. The roads get more jammed every year. But money for infrastructure improvements is stuck in a failing road fund, and the railophobia of politicians hampers investment in public transport.

Whose job is it to do something about this? The most visible symptom of our disease is the glue slowly hardening in the machinery of national government. The last two Congresses have been the least productive in history by almost any measure chosen, just when we need them to be the most productive. The U. S. political system, with its strong separation among competing centers of power, relies on a spirit of cross-party compromise and trust in order to work. Good luck there.

V. So what is to be done?

As with anything, the first step is to admit the problem. Americans have to stop convincing themselves they live in a society of opportunity. It is a painful admission, of course, especially for the most successful. The most fervent believers in meritocracy are naturally those who have enjoyed success. It is hard to acknowledge the role of good fortune, including the lottery of birth, when describing your own path to greatness.

There is a general reckoning needed. In the golden years following World War II, the economy grew at 4 percent per annum and wages surged. Wealth accumulated. The federal government, at the zenith of its powers, built interstates and the welfare system, sent GIs to college and men to the moon. But here's the thing: Those days are gone, and they're not coming back. Opportunity and growth will no longer be delivered, almost automatically, by a buoyant and largely unchallenged economy. Now it will take work.

The future success of the American idea must now be intentional.

Entrepreneurial, mobile, aspirational: New Americans are true Americans. We need a lot more of them.

There are plenty of ideas for reform that simply require will and a functioning political system. At the heart of them is the determination to think big again and to vigorously engage in public investment. And we need to put money into future generations like our lives depended on it, because they do: Access to affordable, effective contraception dramatically cuts rates of unplanned pregnancy and gives kids a better start in life. Done well, pre-K education closes learning gaps and prepares children for school. More generous income benefits stabilize homes and help kids. Reading programs for new parents improve literacy levels. Strong school principals attract good teachers and raise standards. College coaches help get nontraditional students to and through college. And so on. We are not lacking ideas. We are lacking a necessary sense of political urgency. We are stuck.

But we can move again if we choose.

In addition to a rejuvenation of policy in all these fields, there are two big shifts required for an American twenty-first-century renaissance: becoming open to more immigration and shifting power from Washington to the cities.

VI. America needs another wave of immigration.

This is in part just basic math: We need more young workers to fund the old age of the baby boomers. But there is more to it than that. Immigrants also provide a shot in the arm to American vitality itself. Always have, always will. Immigrants are now twice as likely to start a new business as native-born Americans. Rates of entrepreneurialism are declining among natives but rising among immigrants.

Immigrant children show extraordinary upward-mobility rates, shooting up the income-distribution ladder like rockets, yet by the third or fourth generation, the rates go down, reflecting indigenous norms. Among children born in Los Angeles to poorly educated Chinese immigrants, for example, an astonishing 70 percent complete a four-year-college degree. As the work of my Brookings colleague William Frey shows, immigrants are migrants within the U. S., too, moving on from traditional immigrant cities—New York, Los Angeles—to other towns and cities in search of a better future. Entrepreneurial, mobile, aspirational: New Americans are true Americans. We need a lot more of them.

This makes a mockery of our contemporary political "debates" about immigration reform, which have become intertwined with race and racism. Some Republicans tap directly into white fears of an America growing steadily browner. More than four in ten white seniors say that a growing population of immigrants is a "change for the worse"; half of white boomers believe immigration is "a threat to traditional American customs and values." But immigration delves deeper into the question of American identity than it does even issues of race. Immigrants generate more dynamism and aspiration, but they are also unsettling and challenging. Where this debate ends will therefore tell us a great deal about the trajectory of the nation. An America that closes its doors will be an America that has chosen to settle rather than grow, that has allowed security to trump dynamism.

VII. The second big shift needed to get America unstuck is a revival of city and state governance.

Since the American Dream is part of the national identity, it seems natural to look to the national government to help make it a reality. But cities are now where the American Dream will live or die. America's hundred biggest metros are home to 67 percent of the nation's population and 75 percent of its economy. Americans love the iconography of the small town, even at the movies—but they watch those movies in big cities.

Powerful mayors in those cities have greater room for maneuvering and making an impact than the average U. S. senator. Even smaller cities and towns can be strongly influenced by their mayor.

There are choices to be made. Class divisions are hardening. Upward mobility has a very weak pulse. Race gaps are widening.

The new federalism in part is being born of necessity. National politics is in ruins, and national institutions are weakened by years of short-termism and partisanship. Power, finding a vacuum in D. C., is diffusive. But it may also be that many of the big domestic-policy challenges will be better answered at a subnational level, because that is where many of the levers of change are to be found: education, family planning, housing, desegregation, job creation, transport, and training. Amid the furor over Common Core and federal standards, it is important to remember that for every hundred dollars spent on education, just nine come from the federal government.

We may be witnessing the end of many decades of national-government dominance in domestic policy-making (the New Deal, Social Security, Medicare, welfare reform, Obamacare). The Affordable Care Act is important in itself, but it may also come to have a place in history as the legislative bookend to a long period of national-policy virtuosity.

The case for the new federalism need not be overstated. There will still be plenty of problems for the national government to fix, including, among the most urgent, infrastructure and nuclear waste. The main tools of macroeconomic policy will remain the Federal Reserve and the federal tax code. But the twentieth-century model of big federal social-policy reforms is in decline. Mayors and governors are starting to notice, and because they don't have the luxury of being stuck, they are forced to be entrepreneurs of a new politics simply to survive.

VIII. It is possible for America to recover its earlier dynamism, but it won't be easy.

The big question for Americans is: Do you really want to? Societies, like people, age. They might also settle down, lose some dynamism, trade a little less openness for a little more security, get a bit stuck in their ways. Many of the settled nations of old Europe have largely come to terms with their middle age. They are wary of immigration but enthusiastic about generous welfare systems and income redistribution. Less dynamism, maybe, but more security in exchange.

America, it seems to me, is not made to be a settled society. Such a notion runs counter to the story we tell ourselves about who we are. (That's right, we. We've all come from somewhere else, haven't we? I just got here a bit more recently.) But over time, our narratives become myths, insulating us from the truth. For we are surely stuck, if not settled. And so America needs to decide one way or the other. There are choices to be made. Class divisions are hardening. Upward mobility has a very weak pulse. Race gaps are widening. The worst of all worlds threatens: a European class structure without European welfare systems to dull the pain.

Americans tell themselves and the world that theirs is a society in which each and all can rise, an inspiring contrast to the hereditary cultures from which it sprang. It's one of the reasons I'm here. But have I arrived to raise my children here just in time to be stuck, too? Or will America be America again?

Editor's note: This piece originally appeared in Esquire.

       

On June 23, Brookings hosted the release of the Immigrants, Immigration Reform, and 2016 Election Survey, a joint project with the Public Religion Research Institute (PRRI). The associated report entitled, How immigration and concern about cultural change are shaping the 2016 election finds an American public anxious and intensely divided on matters of immigration and cultural change at the forefront of the 2016 Election.

Dr. Robert Jones, CEO of PRRI, began the presentation by highlighting Americans’ feelings of anxiety and personal vulnerability. The poll found, no issue is more critical to Americans this election cycle than terrorism, with nearly seven in ten (66 percent) reporting that terrorism is a critical issue to them personally. And yet, Americans are sharply divided on questions of terrorism as it pertains to their personal safety. Six in ten (62 percent) Republicans report that they are at least somewhat worried about being personally affected by terrorism, while just 44 percent of Democrats say the same. 

On matters of cultural change, Jones painted a picture of a sharply divided America. Poll results indicate that a majority (55 percent) of Americans believe that the American way of life needs to be protected from foreign influence, while 44 percent disagree.  Responses illustrate a stark partisan divide:

74 percent of Republicans and 83 percent of Trump supporters believe that foreign influence over the American way of life needs to be curtailed.  Just 41 percent of Democrats agree, while a majority (56 percent) disagrees with this statement. Views among white Americans are sharply divided by social class, the report finds. While 68 percent of the white working class agrees that the American way of life needs to be protected, fewer than half (47 percent) of white college-educated Americans agree.

Jones identified Americans’ views on language and “reverse discrimination” as additional touchstones of cultural change. Americans are nearly evenly divided over how comfortable they feel when they encounter immigrants who do not speak English: 50 percent say this bothers them and 49 percent say it does not. 66 percent of Republicans and 77 percent of Trump supporters express discomfort when coming into contact with immigrants who do not speak English; just 35 percent of Democrats say the same.

 

Americans split evenly on the question of whether discrimination against whites, or “reverse discrimination,” is as big of a problem as discrimination against blacks and other minorities (49 percent agree, 49 percent disagree). Once again, the partisan differences are considerable: 72 percent of Republicans and 81 percent of Trump supporters agree that reverse discrimination is a problem, whereas more than two thirds (68 percent) of Democrats disagree.

On economic matters, survey results indicate that nearly seven in ten (69 percent) Americans support increasing the tax rate on wealthy Americans, defined as those earning over $250,000 a year. This represents a modest increase in the share of Americans who favor increasing the tax rate relative to 2012, but a dramatic increase in the number of Republicans who favor this position.

 

The share of  Republicans favoring increasing the tax rate on wealthy Americans jumped from 36 percent in 2012 to 54 percent in 2016—an 18 point increase. Democrats and Independents views on this position remained relatively constant, increasing from 80 to 84 percent and 61 to 68 percent approval respectively.

Finally, on matters of immigration, Americans are divided over whether immigrants are changing their communities for the better (50 percent) or for the worse (49 percent). Across party lines, however, Americans are more likely to think immigrants are changing American society as a whole than they are to think immigrants are changing the local community. This, Jones suggested, indicates that Americans’ views on immigration are motivated by partisan ideology more than by lived experience. 

At the conclusion of Dr. Jones’s presentation, Brookings senior fellow in Governance Studies, Dr. William Galston moderated a panel discussion of the poll’s findings. Karlyn Bowman, a senior fellow and research coordinator at the American Enterprise Institute, observed that cultural anxiety has long characterized Americans’ views on immigration. Never, Bowman remarked, has the share of Americans that favor immigrants outpaced the share of those who oppose immigrants. Turning to the results of the PRRI survey, Bowman highlighted the partisan divide influencing responses to the proposition that the United States place a temporary ban on Muslims. The strong level of Republican support for the proposal--64 percent support among Republicans--compared to just 23 percent support among Democrats has more to do with fear of terrorism than anxiety about immigration, she argued.

Henry Olsen, a senior fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center, remarked that many Americans feel that government should do more to ensure protection, prosperity, and security -- as evidenced by the large proportion of voters who feel that their way of life is under threat from terrorism (51%), crime (63%), or unemployment (65%).  In examining fractures within the Republican Party, Olsen considered the ways in which Trump voters differ from non-Trump voters, regardless of party affiliation. On questions of leadership, he suggested, the fact that 57% of all Republicans agree that we need a leader “willing to break some rules” is skewed by the high proportion of Trump supporters (72%) who agree with that statement. Indeed, just 49% of Republicans who did not vote for Trump agreed that the country needs a leader willing to break rules to set things right.

Joy Reid, National Correspondent at MSNBC, cited the survey’s findings that Americans are bitterly divided over whether American culture and way of life has changed for the better (49 percent) or the worse (50 percent) since the 1950s. More than two-thirds of Republicans (68 percent) and Donald Trump supporters (68 percent) believe the American way of life has changed for the worse since the 1950s. Connecting this nostalgia to survey results indicating anxiety about immigration and cultural change, Reid argued that culture—not economics—is the primary concern animating many Trump supporters.

       

       

       

       

Editor's Note: As part of the 2014 Midterm Elections Series, Brookings scholars and outside experts will weigh in on issues that are central to this year's campaigns, how the candidates are engaging those topics, and what will shape policy for the next two years.

Since the Citizens United decision, political spending by outside groups has been shaping voters’ opinions before Election Day and public policy afterwards.  Spending patterns that began after the 2010 decision will continue during the upcoming midterms: nonparty, outside spending will flow through two distinct pipelines—super PACs and politically active nonprofits. This time around there seems to be a partisan split to the spending, with Democrats leaning towards super PACs and Republicans relying more on dark money nonprofits. But whichever tool is used to funnel money into competitive races, imperfect or non-existent disclosure rules leave voters unable to determine whether access and influence is being sold to highest bidder.

Shining a brighter light on super PAC and nonprofit campaign spending would not cleanse the system of all of its corrupting influences, but it would help to restore citizens’ trust in government by eliminating the secrecy that makes voters believe their elected officials have something to hide. More disclosure would also result in the equally important outcome of demonstrating that government trusts us, its citizens, with information about how the influence industry works.   

When Thomas Jefferson wrote, “Whenever the people are well-informed, they can be trusted with their own government...whenever things get so far wrong as to attract their notice, they may be relied on to set them to rights,” he certainly could not have conceived of secret money’s impact on elections and policy-making. But every year that goes by with Congress failing to address secret campaign spending challenges the founding father’s time-tested wisdom.

When the Supreme Court decided Citizens United, it was either willfully blind or sorely naïve about the state of political finance disclosure. Justice Kennedy swept aside concerns about the corrupting influence of unlimited political spending by claiming that, “With the advent of the Internet, prompt disclosure of expenditures can provide shareholders and citizens with the information needed to hold corporations and elected officials accountable for their positions. . . This transparency enables the electorate to make informed decisions and give proper weight to different speakers and messages.”

Unfortunately, no such prompt disclosure existed at the time, nor has Congress been able to pass any improvements to the transparency regime since then. In the case of super PACs, while information about donors must eventually be disclosed to the Federal Election Commission (FEC), disclosures can be delayed by up to three months.  This is not an inconsequential delay, especially when contributions come are in the multi-million dollar range.

There is even less disclosure by politically active nonprofits.  Their overall expenditures are only disclosed after the election in annual reports filed with the Internal Revenue Service (IRS). The donors to dark money groups may never be known, as the law does not require the names of donors to such groups to be disclosed. Yet more than 55 percent of advertising has been paid for by dark money groups, and 80 percent advertising benefitting Republican candidates has been paid for with undisclosed funds according to the New York Times. 

Congress and the executive branch have no shortage of methods to make money in politics more transparent, but have so far failed to demonstrate they respect voters enough to entrust us with that information.  The Real Time Transparency Act (S. 2207, H.R. 4442) would ensure that contributions of $1000 or more to candidates, parties and PACs, including super PACs, are disclosed within 48 hours. It would also require electronic filing of campaign finance reports.  The DISCLOSE Act, S. 2516, would disclose contributors to political nonprofits entrusting voters with information that currently is only known to the candidates who may benefit from dark money contributions. 

Affirmative congressional action would be the strongest signal that government trusts its citizens, but executive branch agencies can also take important steps to make political finance information more transparent. The IRS is in the process of reforming rules to better clarify when a nonprofit is a political organization and thus must disclose its donors.  The Securities and Exchange Commission can likewise modify its rules to require publicly traded companies to disclose their political activities.

Many large donors have gone to great lengths to take their political activities underground, claiming they fear attacks in the form of criticism or boycotts of their companies.  But just as participating in the political process through contributing to election efforts is an expression of free speech, so is criticizing such efforts.  Yet until campaign finance information is fully and quickly made public, the first amendment rights of voters and their ability to participate fully in our democracy are drastically shortchanged.

      

Totaling more than $111,000,000.00, the 2014 North Carolina Senate contest between Kay Hagan and Thom Tillis is the most expensive Senate election in the nation’s history (not adjusted for inflation). As we investigated earlier this week, outside money has been flowing into American politics in the wake of the Supreme Court’s Citizens United decision in 2010.

When candidate and independent spending are combined, 2014 ranks among the most expensive, if not the most expensive, in history. However, understanding campaign spending takes more than a simple examination of total dollars. Spending differences across states can occur for a variety of reasons, including geographic size, population size, and the expense of media markets.

As a result, a more useful metric for understanding the magnitude of campaign activity is spending per voter, and 2014 offers an interesting case: Alaska. This year, Alaska saw a highly competitive Senate race in which both outside groups and candidates spend substantial amounts of money. Alaska ranks 47th in population with just over 700,000 residents and an estimated 503,000 eligible voters. After adjusting spending (both candidate and independent expenditures) for each state's estimated voting eligible population, Alaska's 2014 Senate race, unsurprisingly, ranks as the most expensive in US history.

Alaska originally ranked 6^th most expensive in 2014, with about $60 million spent total. But it jumps to first place in dollars spent per voter. Candidates and outside groups spent roughly $120 per voter in Alaska this year, about double the next most-expensive race, Montana 2012, where candidates and outside groups spent $66.5 per voter. By comparison, the $111 million Senate race in North Carolina—with a voting-eligible population of about 6,826,610—equaled only $16.25 per voter. That’s still far above the median spending per race for all three cycles ($7.3 per voter) but certainly serves to put the spending in context.

Relative to 2012 and 2014, in terms of both combined and per-voter spending, 2010 could be considered one of the cheaper cycles for Senate races thus far.

These data lend some support to the observation that, since Citizens (and more recently McCutcheon v. FEC) independent expenditures are quickly outpacing contributions to candidates. But given changes in reporting requirements and limited data, there is still a lot about outside spending we still don’t know.

All in all, candidate and outside group spending totaled just over a billion dollars in Senate races in 2014. The fact that North Carolina alone accounted for more than ten percent of that spending is astonishing, but no less remarkable is the intensity of spending per voter in Alaska. But if spending continues to grow as it has the last three election cycles, both of those records will likely be shattered in 2016.

      

One of the fundamental arguments in the “Political Realism” debate is whether or not strong political parties could make government work better. One way to assess party strength is to look at how much money parties can raise and spend.

In this vein, political scientists Ray LaRaja and Brian Schaffner have claimed that removing limits on party funding activity would make politics less polarized. I’ve been skeptical of this claim. In fact, in a short analysis, I found that the opposite is more likely the case—that states with limits on party fundraising appear to be less polarized, though I cautioned against inferring too much from this pattern.

LaRaja and Schaffner have now responded and previewed their forthcoming book, Campaign Finance and Political Polarization: When Purists Prevail, which will be out this fall from the University of Michigan Press. So, a response to their response is now in order.

I’ll start by granting a point of agreement: LaRaja and Schaffner note that I didn’t re-produce their analysis. I didn’t do this because, based on what they’ve written, it’s not clear exactly which states they consider to be “Parties Unlimited” and “Parties Limited” states. So, until they make their list public, it will be impossible to conduct a precise replication of their analysis.

The good news is they’ve promised to make their data public in the future. As they write in their recent post, “we will be posting all the data necessary to replicate (and challenge) our results upon publication of our book this fall, and we look forward to seeing what others find when they dig into the data.” They also note in their analysis that “11 states changed their laws on party limits during the period of our study (1993-2012).” Assembling this list, they note, was “possibly the most painstaking work we did on this book.” For now, their list of changes remains a well-kept secret, though the changes appear to be driving their analysis. So it will be good when all the relevant data and categorization choices are clear and on the table.

A lot depends on which states fall into which categories. But, there is a more fundamental question: does it make sense to dichotomize states into “Parties Unlimited” and “Parties Limited” states? States with limits vary considerably. Some states limit the money into parties, but allow unlimited flows to candidates; some states allow unlimited money into parties, but limit money from parties to candidates. Some limits are high, some are low. Some have exceptions for party-building activities. Rules vary between primary and general elections, as well.

Consider California. There are limits on how much parties can raise from individuals, but those limits are quite high (they are now at $35,200), and also only cover the party accounts that go to state candidates (so, for example, ballot measures are exempt or general party activities are exempted). California also has no limits on how much parties can transfer to candidates. So should California be a “limits” or “no limits” state? California also has the most polarized legislature, as measured by the distance between party medians. Depending on how you choose to classify states, you can get very different results, especially when you are only working with 20 states (LaRaja and Schaffner limit their claims to the 20 states with the most professionalized legislatures, as per the Squire Index).

LaRaja and Schaffner’s response presents a time series regression model to “calculate the predicted level of polarization over time in a state that limited party fundraising … and spending to on where those limits were removed.” But if states that removed limits became less polarized following the removal of those limits, why not tell us what those states were, and report the actual polarization trends in the states? Put another way: Why rely on model predictions when there are real world data? Grounding this debate in the trajectories of actual states would lend some realism to the claims. Then we could debate examples.

For example, as Thomas Mann and E.J. Dionne note in a recent Brookings paper, two of the states with no limits are Texas and North Carolina. As Mann and Dionne write, “The behavior of their legislatures in recent years cannot, on any plausible definition, be described as 'moderate.'” However, neither Texas nor North Carolina shows up as excessively polarized when polarization is merely a measure of voting patterns. Moreover, if parties are so pragmatic, why did the North Carolina Republican Party (which could raise and spend unlimited sums of money) fail to stop a takeover by multi-millionaire right-wing extremist Art Pope?

This takes us to questions of how party leaders actually behave. LaRaja and Shaffner show evidence in their response that parties give more money to moderate incumbents than to extreme incumbents. This should not be surprising. Presumably, moderate incumbents are more likely to be in competitive races, since moderates are more likely to represent competitive districts.

The more relevant question is what types of candidates parties recruit. Thankfully, we have answers to this courtesy of excellent work by David Broockman, Nicholas Carnes, Melody Crowder-Meyer, and Christopher Skovron, who surveyed 6,000 county-level political party leaders. They found that, “party leaders…use their influence to discourage moderates from seeking office: they strongly prefer candidates at least as ideologically polarized as their median party member. Republican party leaders show this preference especially.”

Their findings also reinforce something that should be apparent to students of polarization—that polarization is asymmetric. Republicans have moved far to the right. Democrats have mostly stayed in place. Let me quote Broockman et al.’s paper at further length, because the findings are extremely relevant to this debate:

“Republicans are much more likely to, unprompted, mention ideology as an important factor for candidates. Our evidence suggests that not only do Republicans care more about ideology, it is also readily accessible when they think of candidate recruitment. It seems likely, then, that Republicans are much more active in recruiting ideologically polarized candidates than Democrats are.”

“Democratic chairs are most inclined to support candidates who are middle-of-the-road or slightly left with respect to the party, while Republicans prefer candidates who espouse an ideology matching or more conservative than their party. In fact, while Democratic chairs are less likely to support very liberal candidates than those nearer to their party average, Republican chairs seem to give very conservative primary candidates the same boost that Democrats give to moderates.”

This does suggest that perhaps giving parties more money and therefore more control over candidates would produce moderation in blue states, but exacerbate polarization in red states. Unfortunately, there is nothing in LaRaja and Schaffner’s analysis that addresses this possibility.

The importance of recruitment also suggests that what we really want to know is who controls the actual recruitment mechanisms in the first place. It’s possible that states with limits might have strong party recruitment mechanisms. If what we really care about is the strength of party machines, why not try to measure that more directly?

LaRaja and Schaffner seem to envision parties being run by hard-headed pragmatists who can determine outcomes with money alone. They seem to assume that if parties can get billionaires to fund them, this will enable party leaders to support more moderate candidates. They seem to ignore that the billionaires may have a few ideas of their own about how they think government should be run (see, e.g. North Carolina).

This gets to a final point, about whether we ought to care if parties rely on small or large donors. LaRaja and Schaffner dismiss the case for small donors, noting that: “the endless romanticizing of small donors as being emblematic of American voters has no empirical grounding.” They go on to note that the ideological distribution of small donors and the ideological distribution of large donors “are nearly identical,” and therefore, “[p]utting more emphasis on ideological small donors may even make our politics worse as politicians streamline their messages to cater to this minority of individuals with more extreme views.”

Let’s grant that large and small donors have the same ideological distribution. If there is no difference, then there’s no reason to think that relying more on small donors would make politics any more extreme. However, since there are many more small donors than there are large donors, a small-donor matching system would allow less extreme candidates the ability to seek out less extreme donors from a larger population of potential donors. We know large donors are polarized, so relying more heavily on them doesn’t give parties much room to moderate. Of course, this presumes that large donors want to shape party positions. But that seems a safe bet.

There are also good (small-d) democratic reasons to support small-donor programs: they bring more participants into the political process; they orient politicians to think differently about whom they represent, and they probably make politics an attractive profession for a broader set of potential candidates. I’d even trade off some polarization for a small donor system. Fortunately, based on their data, it doesn’t appear that I’d even have to.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, polarization is a function of many, many things, and it’s hard to imagine how changing limits on what parties can raise and spend would have much of an influence given the many other factors. Consider this thoughtful systems map developed by the Hewlett Foundation to analyze American politics as a system: it describes multiple factors that might influence levels of polarization. Systems thinking warns us to be careful of putting too much focus on a single point of leverage without thinking about the larger systems dynamics. This is why many reform skeptics are cautious about unintended consequences—thinking about a single variable in the absence of a larger context usually has unexpected results.

Moreover, as Mann and Dionne explain, we need to be cautious of applying lessons from the states to Washington:

"The gridlock in Washington is a consequence of the ideological polarization of the parties buttressed by vast party networks, their strategic opposition to one another throughout the legislative process fueled by the intense competition for control of the White House and Congress, the prevalence of divided party government, and the asymmetry between the parties that leads Republicans to eschew negotiation and compromise."

"The situation in the states is dramatically different. Most now have unified party governments, and gridlock is the exception, not the rule. There is little evidence of moderation in the Republican- controlled states, whatever their campaign finance laws."

I’m sure we will continue this debate for many months to come, especially after the publication of Campaign Finance and Political Polarization: When Purists Prevail this fall. I’m glad that LaRaja and Schaffner are bringing valuable data to this important question. It’s certainly far from settled.

       

The rise of SuperPACs, the decision in Citizens United, and intensified polarization in Congress has ignited a flame under the already robust academic debate over the role of money in elections. Last week, Lee Drutman wrote an article for Vox outlining the recent contribution of Raymond J. La Raja and Brian Schaffner made to the debate with their book, Campaign Finance and Political Polarization: When Purists Prevail.

The crux of the book argues that allowing political parties to control more money, not less, is the key to reducing polarization. This runs counter to many pro-reform writings, focused chiefly on empowering small donors in order to counter big-money politics. La Raja and Schaffner counter this narrative, suggesting parties channel money to create moderation, rather than small donors, which are polarizing.

Drutman pushes back on both accounts by taking issue with some of the underlying assumptions in When Purists Prevail, including the weight they place on median voter theory and the extent parties will spend money on moderate candidates in primary elections. He marshals a host of recent research to support the critique, including: a recent Brookings paper on the strength of political parties, data on the power of outside money in congressional elections, and research showing moderate districts do not necessarily produce moderate candidates.

Click here to read the full article on Vox.

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

British debates about welfare reform have often been influenced by American ideas. The Clinton-era welfare reforms were echoed in some of Tony Blair’s alterations to British benefits. Gordon Brown, as Chancellor, introduced a new Working Tax Credit as a direct result of studying the Earned Income Tax Credit. Brown particularly liked the political advantages of a ‘tax cut for hard-working families’, as opposed to a ‘benefit handout to welfare families’.

But now the transatlantic traffic in ideas on welfare is going the other way. The U.K.’s introduction of a single, unified system of transfer payments – the Universal Credit – is getting quite a bit of attention in the wonkier regions of D.C. politics. Paul Ryan, at a Brookings summit on social mobility, mentioned the Universal Credit (UC) as a possible inspiration for a new round of welfare reform. (Ryan is giving a speech at AEI in a couple of weeks: we’re likely to hear more about his thinking then.) When the architect of the UC, Iain Duncan Smith, visited D.C. recently, he held a series of meetings with leading Republicans to discuss his reforms.

The main attractions of the Universal Credit are fourfold:

1. Simplicity. By unifying five cash benefits and an ‘in kind’ benefit (Housing Benefit) into a single, monthly payment, the complexity of the system from the point of view of the recipient will be greatly reduced.
   
   
2. Cost control. Housing Benefit is paid directly to the landlord, which reduces the tenant’s incentive to control costs.  Add that to the crazily overheated U.K. housing market, and should come as no surprise that Housing Benefit has become a major strain on the system, quintupling in cost in real terms over the last two decades to hit £24 billion a year (c. $41bn), to become the second-biggest element of the U.K.’s system, after pensions.  By including an allowance for housing in the single cash payment in UC, the recipient will be incentivized to control their own housing costs.
    
3. Stronger work incentives. The UC has a flatter ‘taper’ than existing benefits, meaning that cash payments are reduced more slowly as earnings rise. In particular, the UC will allow benefit recipients to work part-time (less than 16 hours a week), and still keep claiming. On the downside, incentives for second earners in two-adult families will be reduced. 
   
   
4. Tighter and more targeted work requirements. The UC will contain stronger requirements to seek work than existing benefits, and importantly, has a ‘sliding scale’ of requirements, depending on the position of the recipient. For example, parents with children under the age of 1 will be exempt from work requirements; those with children aged between  1 and 5 will be obliged to attend for interviews with a case worker to prepare for a return to work; those with children at school will be required to ‘actively seek work’.

Sounds pretty good, doesn't it? And in fact it is, on paper at least. In practice the introduction of UC has been marked with huge overspend and delay on the required new IT system. The whole exercise has also been made much harder by cuts in many of the relevant cash benefits, as well as the introduction of a ‘household cap’ on total welfare receipts. The Universal Credit as an idea has a lot of support. As so often, it has been putting the idea a reality that has been difficult.

What—if anything—can the U.S. take from the UC? Short answer: not much. 

Many of the problems the UC addresses do not really apply in the U.S. Work incentives are already pretty strong in the U.S., thanks to the relative generosity of the EITC, and the relative meanness of out-of-work welfare supports. Also, there are already much stronger work requirements in the U.S. system. Some want to go further, and add work requirements to the receipt of food stamps, for example. But this would not require a major overhaul.  As Melissa Boteach and her colleagues at the Center for American Progress write,“the primary problem that the Universal Credit is supposed to address in the United Kingdom—the lack of incentive for jobless workers to enter the labor force—is far less of an issue in the United States”.

The UC also further centralizes an already highly centralized system, by getting rid of Housing Benefit, which is currently administered by Local Authorities. The U.S. system is much less centralized, with states and cities having a high degree of control over the way TANF and SNAP are administered. It is hard to see how anything like a UC could work in the U.S. at anything higher than State level. A Wisconsin Universal Credit makes sense in a way that a U.S. Universal Credit does not.  But if shifting towards block grants to states is really what this is about (see Marco Rubio’s ‘flex fund’ idea),that’s a whole different debate.

A final point. Simplicity and ease of use for the recipient is a key goal of the UC, and a worthy one. The stress and difficulties faced by low-income families just in applying for assistance is unacceptable in the 21st century. But it is not clear that the whole system has to be upended to achieve this goal. Technology ought to allow a single access point to the system, with the complexity out of sight of the user. 

In the U.K. the Universal Credit has a strong rationale, despite the implementation challenges. In the U.S., it is a solution in search of a problem.