The final months of Obama’s historic terms of office as America’s first black president are taking place against the backdrop of an ugly Republican nominating race, and to the sound of ugly language on race from Donald Trump. Progress towards racial equality is indeed proceeding in faltering steps, as the president himself made clear in a commencement speech, one of his last as president, to the graduating class of Howard University.

“America is a better place today than it was when I graduated from college,” the president said. But on the question of progress on closing the race gap, he provided some mixed messages. Much done; more to do. The president picked out some specific areas on both sides of the ledger, many of which we have looked at on these pages.

1."Americans with college degrees, that rate is up.”

The share of Americans who have completed a bachelor’s degree or higher is now at 34 percent, up from 23 percent in 1990. That’s good news in itself. But it is particularly good news for social mobility, since people born at the bottom of the income distribution who get at BA experience much more upward mobility than those who do not:

2. "We've cut teen pregnancy in half."

The teen birthrate recently hit an all-time low, with a reduction in births by 35 percent for whites, 44 percent for blacks, and 51 percent for Hispanics:

This is a real cause for celebration, as the cost of unplanned births is extremely high. Increased awareness of highly effective methods of contraception, like Long Acting Reversible Contraception (LARCs), has certainly helped with this decline. More use of LARCs will help still further.

3. "In 1983, I was part of fewer than 10 percent of African Americans who graduated with a bachelor's degree. Today, you're part of the more than 20 percent who will."

Yes, black Americans are more likely to be graduating college. And contrary to some rhetoric, black students who get into selective colleges do very well, according to work from Jonathan Rothwell:

Three worries on race gaps

But of course it’s far from all good news, as the president also made clear. 

1. "We've still got an achievement gap when black boys and girls graduate high school and college at lower rates than white boys and white girls."

The white-black gap in school readiness, measured by both reading and math scores, has not closed at the same rate as white-Hispanic gaps. And while there has been an increase in black college-going, most of this rise has been in lower-quality institutions, at least in terms of alumni earnings (one likely reason for race gaps in college debt):

2. "There are folks of all races who are still hurting—who still can’t find work that pays enough to keep the lights on, who still can’t save for retirement."

Almost a third of the population has no retirement savings. Many more have saved much less than they will need, especially lower-income households. Wealth gaps by race are extremely large, too. The median wealth of white households is now 13 times greater than for black households:

3. "Black men are about six times likelier to be in prison right now than white men."

About one-third of all black male Americans will spend part of their life in prison. Although whites and blacks use and/or sell drugs at similar rates, blacks are 3 to 4 times more likely to be arrested for doing so, and 9 times more likely to be admitted to state prisons for a drug offense. The failed war on drugs and the trend towards incarceration have been bad news for black Americans in particular:

Especially right now, it is inspiring to see a black president giving the commencement address at a historically black college. But as President Obama knows all too well, there is a very long way to go.

America is becoming a more class-stratified society, contrary to the nation’s self-image as a socially dynamic meritocracy. In particular, the barriers are hardening between the upper middle class and the majority below them. As New York Times contributor Tom Edsall writes (“How the Other Fifth Lives"), “The self-segregation of a privileged fifth of the population is…creating a self-perpetuating class at the top, which is ever more difficult to break into.”

This separation of the upper middle class by income, wealth, occupation and neighborhood has created a social distance between those of us who have been prospering in recent decades, and those who are feeling left behind, angry and resentful, and more like to vote for To-Hell-With-Them-All populist politicians. As I told Charles Homans, also writing on class for the Times, “The upper middle class are surprised by the rise of Trump. The actual middle class is surprised we’re surprised.”

Edsall cited my earlier essay, “The Dangerous Separation of the American Upper Middle Class,” and quoted me as follows:

“The top fifth have been prospering while the majority lags behind. But the separation is not just economic. Gaps are growing on a whole range of dimensions, including family structure, education, lifestyle, and geography. Indeed, these dimensions of advantage appear to be clustering more tightly together, each thereby amplifying the effect of the other.”

Just as certain disadvantages can cluster together, creating multidimensional poverty, so advantages may cluster together, resulting in multidimensional advantage. Is there more clustering of advantages at the top of American society? Yes.

The top fifth of households by income obviously have more money than the 80 percent below them. What about other advantages? Let’s take just three: marriage, employment and education. (See Sean Reardon and Kendra Bischoff’s paper on the geographical segregation of affluence). You would expect people in top-quintile households to be more likely to have a graduate or professional degree; to have two earners in the family; and perhaps also to be married. You would be right.

The difference in the proportion of the top fifth with each of these other advantages compared to the bottom four-fifths is around 20 percentage points (we restrict our analysis to those aged 40-50). For example, in 1979 a forty-something year-old in the top income quintile was about 6 percentage points more likely to be married that one in the bottom 80 percent. Now the gap is 17 percentage points.

This is hardly surprising. More education and more earners in the home will increase the chances that you make it into the top quintile for your age cohort. But it is noteworthy that the extent to which these different dimensions of advantage overlap has been steadily increasing over time. Along with the increased association between top-quintile income and marriage, the differentials for graduate education and two-earner status have each increased by around 10 percentage points between 1979 and 2014.

Particularly striking is the increase in the “marriage gap” between the upper middle class and the rest. This is an important factor in the transmission of class status to the next generation, since married couples are more likely to stay together, and stable families predict better outcomes for children.

Similarly, the adults with high levels of education are likely to raise children who end up towards the top of the educational distribution. In fact, the intergenerational persistence of education is even greater than of income, as some of our earlier work shows (“The Inheritance of Education”). Almost half (46 percent) the children of parents in the top education quintile end up in the top education quintile themselves. Three in four (76 percent) stayed in one of the top two education quintiles.

F. Scott Fitzgerald famously said: "Let me tell you about the very rich. They are different from you and me.” Ernest Hemingway’s later response was: “Yes, they have more money.” Today what separates the rich from the rest is not just money, but family life, education, zip code, and so on. This is a point made by a number of scholars, including recently both Robert Putnam in Our Kids and Charles Murray in Coming Apart. Our empirical analysis confirms that different kinds of advantage are increasingly overlapping with each other.

The framing of inequality in terms of social class used to feel distinctly un-American. No longer.

Editor’s note: This piece originally appeared in Real Clear Markets.

Ron Haskins and Isabel Sawhill were just awarded the 2016 Daniel Patrick Moynihan Prize by the American Academy of Political and Social Science. The honor is presented to “a leading policymaker, social scientist, or public intellectual whose career demonstrates the value of using social science evidence to advance the public good.” In this case, however, for the first time the award was awarded jointly.

Here at Brookings, Belle and Ron have forged a powerful and unique intellectual partnership, founding and elevating the Center on Children and Families and producing world-class work on families, poverty, opportunity, evidence, parenting, work and education, and much more besides.

The Association highlighted Belle and Ron’s bipartisanship. This was appropriate, given that the two have different political backgrounds, and work with people across the political spectrum. The skills and attributes they display in order to work in this way are:

1. Deep respect for the views of others regardless of their politics.
2. Reverence for the evidence and for the facts.
3. A willingness to adapt their views to the facts, rather than (as so often in this town), the other way around. This has been true even when it has made their life more difficult with people on “their” side of the political spectrum.
4. A desire to work hard to bring ideas to bear on public policy. The point is to do good work, but also to have real impact.
5. An insatiable intellectual curiosity to find out more, push new boundaries, and to keep learning. (Both of them have new books out, of course.)

These attributes, when you think about it, are those every decent scholar should aspire to. Belle and Ron have shown us that the skills for bipartisanship turn out to be essentially the same skills as those required for good scholarship.

In his remarks at the Prize lecture, Ron focused on the rise, importance, and prospects for evidence-based policy. Ron has tackled this subject at book length in Show Me the Evidence. Here is part of what Ron had to say:

“Perhaps the most important social function of social science is to find and test programs that will reduce the nation’s social problems. The exploding movement of evidence-based policy and the many roots the movement is now planting, offer the best chance of fulfilling this vital mission of social science, of achieving, in other words, exactly the outcomes Moynihan had hoped for. Today, evidence-based policy rests on the mighty oak of program evaluation in general and the random assignment study in particular.”

Ron highlighted the growth of Pay for Success programs, the Obama administration’s emphasis on evidence-based initiatives, and the creation of the Ryan/Murray Commission on Evidence-Based Policy.

Ron argued that it was right to be skeptical about the likely impact of any particular intervention. But this is not to say that policy doesn’t work—just that some policies work, others don’t, and it good to know the difference. In his slides, Ron lists some programs that have been shown to have demonstrable, sustainable impact—what he described as “his entry in the evidence-based policy sweepstakes.”

But there are plenty of challenges ahead, including the need to improve our understanding of implementation; and the following critical question: “When a program fails, what’s next?” Ron argued that the answer should not be to simply pull the funding, but to work on improving performance.

Belle highlighted the work captured in her latest book, Generation Unbound, on how to reduce the damaging rise of unintended pregnancies and births in the U.S. Over 40 percent of children are born outside of marriage, and 60 percent of births to single women under age 30 are unplanned. In the spirit of being faithful to the facts, and focused on what works, Belle showed the costs of unintended pregnancies for poverty, family stability, and opportunity. Child poverty rates have increased, Belle estimates, by about 25 percent since 1970 because of changes in family structure.

So what are the solutions? In the spirit of following the evidence, Belle argued that the goal must be to help people plan for rather than drift into pregnancy, by broadening access to and use of long-acting reversible contraception. The best example is the intrauterine device, or IUD. The risks of pregnancy for women using this method of contraception are very much lower than for condoms or the pill: 

A fact-based analysis of a problem, followed by an evidence-based approach to solutions: Belle’s work on contraception (sometimes alongside Ron) is a perfect example of bipartisanship, impact-oriented scholarship and a commitment to evidence.

Downloads

• Download Isabel Sawhill's presentation
• Download Ron Haskins's presentation

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.

There is a marriage gap in America. This is not just a gap in choices and actions, but in norms and attitudes. Each generation is more liberal, on average, when it comes to issues like premarital relationships, same-sex marriage, and divorce. But generational averages can obscure other divides, including ideology—which in many cases is a more powerful factor.

Take opinions on the most important prerequisites for marriage, as explored in the American Family Survey conducted earlier this year by Deseret News and the Center for the Study of Elections and Democracy (disclosure: I am an adviser to the pollsters). There is widespread agreement that it is best to have a stable job and to have completed college before tying the knot. But there is less agreement in the 3,000-person survey on other questions, including premarital cohabitation.

In response to the question of whether it is “important to live with your future spouse before getting married,” a clear gap emerges between those who identify as Democrats and those who identify as Republicans. This gap trumps the generational one, with younger Republicans (under 40) more conservative than Democrats over the age of 40:

The importance of family stability for a child’s wellbeing and prospects is well-documented, not least in Isabel Sawhill’s book, Generation Unbound. The question is not whether stability matters, but how best to promote it. To the extent that biological parents stay together and provide a stable environment, it doesn’t much matter if they are married. For children living with both biological parents, there is no difference in outcomes between those being raised by a married couple compared to a cohabiting couple, according to research by Wendy Manning at Bowling Green State University.

But people who marry are much more likely to stay together:

Marriage, at least in America, does seem to act as an important commitment device, a “co-parenting” contract for the modern world, as I’ve argued in an essay for The Atlantic, “How to Save Marriage in America.”

Cohabitation can signal radically different situations. A couple who plan to live together for a couple of years, then marry, and then plan the timing of having children are very different from a couple who start living together, accidentally get pregnant, and then, perhaps somewhat reluctantly, get married.

There is some evidence that cohabitation is in fact becoming a more common bridge to marriage and commitment. First-time premarital cohabiting relationships are also lasting longer on average and increasingly turn into marriage: around seven in ten cohabiting couples are still together after three years, of whom four have married.

In the end what matters is planning, stability, and commitment. If cohabitation is a planned prelude to what some scholars have labeled “decisive marriages,” it seems likely to prove a helpful shift in social norms, by allowing couples to test life under the same roof before making a longer-term commitment. Sawhill’s distinction between “drifters” and “planners” in terms of pregnancy may also be useful when it comes to thinking about cohabitation, too.

Baltimore police officer Edward Nero, one of six being tried separately in relation to the arrest and death of Freddie Gray, has been acquitted on all counts. The outcome for officer Nero was widely expected, but officials are nonetheless aware of the level of frustration and anger that remains in the city. Mayor Stephanie Rawlings Blake said: "We once again ask the citizens to be patient and to allow the entire process to come to a conclusion."

Since Baltimore came to national attention, Brookings scholars have probed the city’s challenges and opportunities, as well addressing broader questions of place, race and opportunity.

• In this podcast, Jennifer Vey describes how, for parts of Baltimore, economic growth has been largely a spectator sport: "1/5 people in Baltimore lives in a neighborhood of extreme poverty, and yet these communities are located in a relatively affluent metro area, in a city with many vibrant and growing neighborhoods."
• Vey and her colleague Alan Berube, in this piece on the "Two Baltimores," reinforce the point about the distribution of economic opportunity and resources in the city:
  

  In 2013, 40,000 Baltimore households earned at least $100,000. Compare that to Milwaukee, a similar-sized city where only half as many households have such high incomes. As our analysis uncovered, jobs in Baltimore pay about $7,000 more on average than those nationally. The increasing presence of high-earning households and good jobs in Baltimore City helps explain why, as the piece itself notes, the city’s bond rating has improved and property values are rising at a healthy clip."

• Groundbreaking work by Raj Chetty, which we summarized here, shows that Baltimore City is the worst place for a boy to grow up in the U.S. in terms of their likely adult earnings:

• Here Amy Liu offered some advice to the new mayor of the city: "I commend the much-needed focus on equity but…the mayoral candidates should not lose sight of another critical piece of the equity equation: economic growth."
• Following an event focused on race, place and opportunity, in this piece I drew out "Six policies to improve social mobility," including better targeting of housing vouchers, more incentives to build affordable homes in better-off neighborhoods, and looser zoning restrictions.
• Frederick C. Harris assessed President Obama’s initiative to help young men of color, "My Brother’s Keeper," praising many policy shifts and calling for a renewed focus on social capital and educational access. But Harris also warned that rhetoric counts and that a priority for policymakers is to "challenge some misconceptions about the shortcomings of black men, which have become a part of the negative public discourse."
• Malcolm Sparrow has a Brookings book on policing reform, "Handcuffed: What Holds Policing Back, and the Keys to Reform" (there is a selection here on Medium). Sparrow writes:
  

  Citizens of any mature democracy can expect and should demand police services that are responsive to their needs, tolerant of diversity, and skillful in unraveling and tackling crime and other community problems. They should expect and demand that police officers are decent, courteous, humane, sparing and skillful in the use of force, respectful of citizens’ rights, disciplined, and professional. These are ordinary, reasonable expectations."

Five more police officers await their verdicts. But the city of Baltimore should not have to wait much longer for stronger governance, and more inclusive growth.

“There is room for everybody in America,” wrote French-American author Hector St. John de Crèvecœur in 1782’s Letters from an American Farmer.

Like most of the founding generation, Crèvecœur believed the sheer size of the new nation meant for a prosperous future. But he was also celebrating an attitude of openness, a willingness to embrace new citizens from around the world into what he called the “melting pot” of American society.

The embrace of openness has survived, in spite of occasional outbreaks of anti-immigrant sentiment, for the intervening two and a half centuries. The United States remains an immigrant nation, in spirit as well as in fact. (A fact for which, as an immigrant from the Old Country, I am grateful). My wife is American, and my high schoolers have had U.S. passports since being born in London. Right now I'm applying for U.S. citizenship. I want America to be my home not just my residence. My story is of course very different to most immigrants - but the point is, all of our stories are different. What unites us is our desire to be American.

But this spirit may be waning. Thanks only in part to Donald Trump, immigration is near the top of the political agenda – and not in a good way.

Trump has brilliantly exploited the imagery of The Wall to tap into the frustrations of white middle America. But America needs immigration. At the most banal level, this is a question of math. We need more young workers to fund the old age of the Baby Boomers. Overall, immigrants are good for the economy, as a recent summary of research from Brookings’ Hamilton Project shows.

Of course, while immigration might be good for the economy as a whole, that does not mean it is good for everyone. Competition for wages and jobs will impact negatively on some existing residents, who may be more economically vulnerable in the first place. Policymakers keen to promote the benefits of immigration should also be attentive to its costs.

But the value of immigration cannot be reduced to an actuarial table or spreadsheet. Immigrants do not simply make America better off. They make America better. Immigrants provide a shot in the nation’s arm.

Immigrants are now twice as likely to start a new business as native-born Americans. While rates of entrepreneurialism are declining among natives, they are rising among immigrants. Immigrant children typically show extraordinary upward mobility, in terms of income, occupation and education. Among children born in Los Angeles to poorly-educated Chinese immigrants, for example, an astonishing 70% 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 and Los Angeles — to other towns and cities in search of a better future.

New Americans are true Americans. We need more of them. But Trump is tapping directly and dangerously into white fears of an America growing steadily browner. According to a 2011 Pew Research Center survey, 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."

Immigration gets at a deep question of American identity in the 21st century. Just like people, societies age. They might also settle down, lose some dynamism. They might trade a little less openness for a little more security. In other words, they get a bit stuck in their ways. Immigrants generate 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 down rather than grow, allowing security to eclipse dynamism.

Disruption is not costless. But America has always weighed the benefits of dynamism and diversity more heavily. Immigration is an important way in which America hits the refresh button and renews herself. Without immigration, the nation would not only be worse off, but would cease, in some elemental sense, to be America at all.

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

“A society of equals is a society in which disadvantages do not cluster,” say Jonathan Wolff and Avner de-Shalit in their book Disadvantage. Low income matters greatly in itself, of course. But it also matters because it brings other difficulties along with it, like poor health and/or a lack of health insurance. An important goal of policy is to “de-cluster” these disadvantages.  

In recent years, the State of Colorado, embracing and going beyond the Affordable Care Act, has increased health insurance coverage, especially among low-income residents. Between 2009 and 2015, the proportion of Coloradans with annual family incomes below $30,000 who were uninsured fell from one in four to one in ten.

Clearly this is good news. But the expansion of insurance has so far had a modest impact on healthcare utilization, at least according to the Colorado Health Access Survey. The Survey includes questions such as, “Have you visited a health care professional or health care facility in the past 12 months?,” and “Was there any time that you did not get doctor care that you needed because of cost?” On these and similar questions, there was relatively little change between 2009 and 2015.

Why didn’t improved health insurance coverage lead to increased use of health care resources? It may be that the survey questions simply aren’t capturing improvements in utilization rates. A more detailed study of the ACA expansion in Oregon did find an increase in utilization, along with improvements on a number of financial hardship indicators. The Colorado survey does seem to suggest financial improvement: the share of low-income white residents that reported trouble paying medical bills fell by just over 3 percentage points from 2009 to 2015; for minority residents the figure was just over 6 percentage points. It’s hard to know, however, how much of this trend is driven by the stronger economy, and how much is driven by the ACA expansion. It is also possible that people are now able to access more appropriate care, for instance using primary care, rather than resorting to the emergency room.

Utilization rates have clearly increased in one area, however: dental health. Medicaid covers dental care for children, so Colorado’s Medicaid expansion increased the number of children in the state with government-sponsored dental insurance. In 2014, Colorado also became one of the few states to introduce limited adult dental coverage. As a result of these policy reforms, the share of low-income Coloradans with insurance for dental care has increased sharply:

Over the same time period, the proportion of low-income Coloradans who visited a dentist—especially minorities—increased, too:

Dentistry is an important part of the health care system, and dental disease is a serious health issue. Four in ten poor Americans suffer from untreated tooth decay, according to some researchers. Better dental care helps low-income people in a range of ways, from avoiding emergency rooms, to having healthier pregnancies, and even succeeding in the job market. The dramatic improvements in dental coverage and dental care in Colorado show that the connection between policy reforms and improved quality of life can sometimes be quite straightforward. 

As every good teacher knows, education is not just about academics. It is about broadening horizons and discovering passions. (The root of education is the Latin e ducere, meaning “to draw out.”) From this perspective, extra-curricular activities count for a great deal. But as Robert Putnam highlights in his book Our Kids, there are growing class gaps in the availability of music, sports, and other non-classroom activities.

Fewer field trips?

Schools under pressure may also cut back on field trips outside the school walls to parks, zoos, theaters, or museums. In the 2008-09 school year, 9 percent of school administrators reported eliminating field trips, according to the annual surveys by the American Association of School Administrators (AASA). That figure rose through the recession:

Just 12 percent of the administrators surveyed about 2015-16 said they had brought back their field trips to pre-recession levels. Museums around the country report hosting fewer students, from Los Angeles and Sarasota, to Minneapolis, and Columbia, Missouri. None of this is definitive proof of a decline in field trips, since we are relying on a single survey question. But it suggests a downward trend in recent years.

Museums help with science tests

If some children are missing out on field trips, does it matter? They may be nice treats, but do they have any real impact, especially when they take time away from traditional learning? There is some evidence that they do.

Middle school children with the chance to go on a field trip score higher on science tests, according to a 2015 study by Emilyn Ruble Whitesell.

She studied New York City middle schools with teachers in Urban Advantage, a program that gives science teachers additional training and resources—as well as vouchers for visiting museums. In some schools, the Urban Advantage teachers used the field trip vouchers more than others. Whitesell exploits this difference in her study, and finds that attending a school with at least 0.25 trips per student increased 8^th grade scores by 0.026 standard deviations (SD). The odds of a student passing the exam improved by 1.2 percentage points. There were bigger effects for poor students, who saw a 0.043 SD improvement in test scores, and 1.9 percentage point increase in exam pass rates.

Art broadens young minds

Students visiting an art museum show statistically significant increases in critical thinking ability and more open-minded attitudes, according to a randomized evaluation of student visits to the Crystal Bridges Museum in northwest Arkansas. One example: those who visited the museum more often agreed with statements like: “I appreciate hearing views different from my own” and “I think people can have different opinions about the same thing.” The effects are modest. But the intervention (a single day at the museum) is, too. Again, there were larger effects for poor students:

All this needs to be put in perspective. In comparison with the challenge of closing academic gaps and quality teaching, field trips are small beer. But schools create citizens as well as undergraduates and employees. It matters, then, if we have allowed field trips to become a casualty of the great recession.

The Horatio Alger ideal of upward mobility has a strong grip on the American imagination (Reeves 2014). But recent years have seen growing concern about the distance between the rhetoric of opportunity and the reality of intergenerational mobility trends and patterns.

The related issues of equal opportunity, intergenerational mobility, and inequality have all risen up the agenda, for both scholars and policymakers. A growing literature suggests that the United States has fairly low rates of relative income mobility, by comparison to other countries, but also wide variation within the country. President Barack Obama has described the lack of upward mobility, along with income inequality, as “the defining challenge of our time.” Speaker Paul Ryan believes that “the engines of upward mobility have stalled.”

But political debates about equality of opportunity and social and economic mobility often provide as much heat as light. Vitally important questions of definition and motivation are often left unanswered. To what extent can “equality of opportunity” be read across from patterns of intergenerational mobility, which measure only outcomes? Is the main concern with absolute mobility (how people fare compared to their parents)—or with relative mobility (how people fare with regard to their peers)? Should the metric for mobility be earnings, income, education, well-being, or some other yardstick? Is the primary concern with upward mobility from the bottom, or with mobility across the spectrum?

In this paper, we discuss the normative and definitional questions that guide the selection of measures intended to capture “equality of opportunity”; briefly summarize the state of knowledge on intergenerational mobility in the United States; describe a new microsimulation model designed to examine the process of mobility—the Social Genome Model (SGM); and how it can be used to frame and measure the process, as well as some preliminary estimates of the simulated impact of policy interventions across different life stages on rates of mobility.

The three steps being taken in mobility research can be described as the what, the why, and the how. First, it is important to establish what the existing patterns and trends in mobility are. Second, to understand why they exist—in other words, to uncover and describe the “transmission mechanisms” between the outcomes of one generation and the next. Third, to consider how to weaken those mechanisms—or, put differently, how to break the cycles of advantage and disadvantage.

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Feminism needs fathers. Unless and until men and women share the responsibilities of parenting equally, gender parity in the labor market will remain out of reach.

As Isabel Sawhill and I argued in our piece on “Men’s Lib” for the New York Times, “The gender revolution has been a one-sided effort. We have not pushed hard enough to put men in traditionally female roles—that is where our priority should lie now.”

An important step towards gender equality is then the provision of paternity leave, or at least forms of parental leave that can be taken up by fathers as well as mothers. Right now the U.S. is one of the few advanced nations with no dedicated leave for fathers:

But there are reasons to be hopeful. More companies are offering paternity leave or, like Amazon, a “leave bank” that parents can share between them. Hillary Clinton is promising to push for paid family leave if she wins in November. Recent studies of California’s paid leave scheme, introduced in 2004, suggest that there are significant benefits for fathers.

The number of fathers taking leave while the mother is in paid work rose by 50 percent, according to an analysis of the American Community Survey by Ann Bartel of Colombia and her colleagues.

Fathers of sons are more likely to take leave than those with daughters, suggesting that parents particularly value father-son bonding. Fathers were also very much more likely to take leave if they worked in occupations with a high share of female workers, indicating that workplace culture is also a big factor.

Men are more likely to take leave when it is exclusively available to them—with a so-called “use it or lose it” design—and when the period of leave is paid. The Quebec Parental Insurance Plan, for instance, which offers fathers three to five weeks at home with a child, resulted in a 250 percent increase father’s participation in parental leave.

Of course, there are costs. Paid leave has to be funded: either through payroll taxes (as most Democrats including Senator Kirsten Gillibrand want), taxes on the wealthy (Clinton’s preferred approach), or tax breaks for firms (as Marco Rubio has suggested).

So what are the upsides? Among the potential benefits from paternity leave are:

• A more equal division of labor in terms of parenting and childcare
• More equal sharing of domestic labor, including housework
• Less stress on the family
• Closer father-infant bonding
• Higher pay for mothers (according to a study in Sweden, future income for new mothers rises by 7 percent on average for every month of paternity leave taken by the father)

Gender roles have evolved rapidly in recent decades, especially in terms of the place and status of women. But the evolution of our mental models of masculinity, and especially fatherhood, has been slower. Helping fathers to take time to care for their children will help children, families, and women. Fathers need more than a day.

Community colleges are a vital part of America’s opportunity structure, not least because they often provide a way into higher education for adults from less advantaged backgrounds. Each year there are around 10 million undergraduates enrolled at public, two-year colleges. Among first-generation students, nearly 38 percent attend community colleges, compared to 20 percent of students with college-educated parents.

Credentials from community colleges—whether short vocational courses or two-year associate degrees—can be valuable in the labor market. In theory, community colleges also provide an on-ramp for those seeking a bachelor’s degree; in fact, four out of five students enrolling intend to get a 4-year degree.

But the potential of community college is often unrealized. Many students are not ready. Quality varies. Pathways are often unclear and/or complex. Only about 40 percent of those enrolling earn a degree within six years. Just 15 percent acquire a 4-year degree, according to analyses by Doug Shapiro and Afet Dundar at the National Student Clearinghouse Research Center.

Transfers rates from community college vary dramatically by state

The degree of alignment and integration between community and four-year colleges is much greater in some states than others. Some use common course numbering for 2- and 4-year institutions, which helps students find the classes they need without racking up costly excess credits. In others, universities and community colleges have tried to align their curriculum to ensure that students’ transfer credits will be accepted.

Individual institutions like Queensborough College (part of the CUNY system) and Miami-Dade College have streamlined course sequences to help their students stay on track to transfer into 4-year schools, as Thomas Bailey, Shanna Jaggers, and Davis Jenkins describe in their book, Redesigning America’s Community Colleges. There’s some indirect evidence that these initiatives increased retention and graduation rates.

These policy differences help to explain the very different stories of transfer rates in different states, revealed in a recent study by Davis Jenkins and John Fink. One important measure is the proportion of students transferring out of community college with a certificate or associate degree already in hand:

Florida tops the list, partly because of state legislation requiring that community colleges grant eligible transfer students degrees—but also because of concerted investments at the state and institutional levels to improve 2-year institutions.

Another measure of success is the proportion of those who transfer ending up with a four-year degree. Again, there are significant variations between states:

Since community colleges serve so many more students from poor backgrounds, the importance of the transfer pathway for social mobility is clear. Many who struggle at high school may begin to flourish in the first year or two of post-secondary education. As their skills are upgraded, so their opportunities should widen. But too often they become trapped in the silos of post-secondary education. We should continue to support efforts like pathway programs that explicitly attempt to build bridges between community colleges and high-quality four year institutions through the creation of clear and consistent major-specific program maps. Such programs allow students starting out at community colleges to easily chart out the specific, clear, and coherent set of steps needed to eventually finish their post-secondary education with a four-year degree.

Tuning an American engine of social mobility

The mission of community colleges since their inception a century ago has been to broaden access to education. Today that means providing a solid education to all students, but also providing opportunities to move on to other institutions.

Like many Brits, I’m reeling. Everyone knew that the "Brexit" referendum was going to be close. But deep down I think many of us assumed that the vote would be to remain in the European Union. David Cameron had no realistic choice but to announce that he will step down.

Mr. Cameron’s fall can be traced back to a promise he made in the 2010 election to cap the annual flow of migrants into the U.K. at less than 100,000, "no ifs, no buts."Membership in the EU means free movement of labor, so this was an impossible goal to reach through direct policy. I served in the coalition government that emerged from the 2010 election, and this uncomfortable fact was clear from the outset. I don’t share the contents of briefings and meetings from my time in government (I think it makes good government harder if everyone is taking notes for memoirs), but my counterpart in the government, Mr. Cameron’s head of strategy, Steve Hilton, went public in the Daily Mail just before this week’s vote.

Steve recalled senior civil servants telling us bluntly that the pledged target could not be reached. He rightly fulminated about the fact that this meant we were turning away much more skilled and desirable potential immigrants from non-EU countries in a bid to bring down the overall number. What he didn’t say is that the target, based on an arbitrary figure, was a foolish pledge in the first place.

Mr. Cameron was unable to deliver on his campaign pledge, and immigration to the U.K. has been running at about three times that level. This fueled anger at the establishment for again breaking a promise, as well as anger at the EU. In an attempt to contain his anti-European right wing, Mr. Cameron made another rash promise: to hold a referendum.

The rest, as they say, is history. And now, so is he.

Immigration played a role in the Brexit campaign, though it seems that voters may not have made a clear distinction between EU and non-EU inward movement. Still, Thursday’s vote was, at heart, a plebiscite on what it means to British. Our national identity has always been of a quieter kind than, say the American one. Attempts by politicians to institute the equivalent of a Flag Day or July Fourth, to teach citizenship in schools, or to animate a “British Dream” have generally been laughed out of court. Being British is an understated national identity. Indeed, understatement is a key part of that identity.

Many Scots, Welsh and Northern Irish feel a much stronger affinity to their home nation within the U.K. than they do to Great Britain. Many Londoners look at the rest of England and wonder how they are in the same political community. These splits were obvious Thursday.

Identity politics has tended in recent years to be of the progressive kind, advancing the cause of ethnic minorities, lesbians and gays, and so on. In both the U.K. and the U.S. a strongly reactionary form of identity politics is gaining strength, in part as a reaction to the cosmopolitan, liberal, and multicultural forms that have been dominant. This is identity politics of a negative kind, defined not by what you are for but what you are against. A narrow majority of my fellow Brits just decided that at the very least, being British means not being European. It was a defensive, narrow, backward-looking attempt to reclaim something that many felt had been lost. But the real losses are yet to come.

Editor's Note: This piece originally appeared in the Wall Street Journal's Washington Wire.

The BBC is doing something I think is awesome but many of my American friends think is awful: gathering information of the social class background of their recruits. The move is part of an aggressive strategy to promote more diversity both on the airwaves and behind the scenes at the public service broadcaster. The civil service has been moving in the same direction.

Some questions arise:

Race and gender are relatively straightforward characteristics, notwithstanding the recent nonsense over restrooms for transgender people. Defining social class is a much more complex business. Many variables could be included, including occupational status, income or wealth, as well as education or cultural capital.

But the goal here is simply to find a measure that is good enough for the purposes at hand. The BBC asks whether either of your parents has a college degree. This is not a bad approach. Education is an important dimension of social class in itself, and strongly related to others. The BBC is also going to ask whether at any point in childhood the person in question was eligible for free school meals. (The questions are voluntary.)

Such proxy measures are narrow measures of class. But they are better than the current ones, since there are none.

Diversity can benefit organizations by widening the range of viewpoints and perspectives. A mixed team is a better team. Class background may be as important here as other factors.

Take two people of a different race or gender, each raised by wealthy East Coast parents, attending a top-drawer private high school, and graduating from an Ivy League college. They may not be as different from each other as they are from a white man raised by a poor single mother in a small Appalachian town.

The BBC is historically an upper middle class institution: “BBC English” meant a posh accent. The British professions in general have in fact tended to draw from a narrow talent pool. Around 7 percent of students attend private high schools (or “public schools”, in British). But they are strongly over-represented in the top professions, including journalism:

From a broader societal perspective, the persistence of class inequality is of course bad news for upward social mobility.

Simply raising awareness of a potential class bias in hiring and promotions could be valuable. Reforming institutional practices—for example the allocation of internship opportunities—may also help. Broadening the search for talent beyond the marquee brands of higher education is likely to diversify the class background of recruits; the BBC is also moving to both name-blind and institution-blind applications. At the same time, greater support for less traditional hires may help them to succeed.

The U.S. sees itself as a classless society, one reason Americans recoil against monitoring social class. It is an understandable instinct. But the perpetuation of class status is now at least as big a problem in the U.S. as in the UK. Even as white privilege and male privilege have diminished, class privilege has survived. A little more class-consciousness might not hurt.

Paid leave for parents is likely to be an important issue on the campaign trail this year. Hillary Clinton, positioning herself as the candidate on the side of families, argues for all parents to be paid for 12 weeks of family leave, at two-thirds of their salary up to a (so far unspecified) cap. Donald Trump has not so far ruled it out, simply saying: “We have to keep our country very competitive, so you have to be careful of it.”

Polls routinely show high levels of general support for paid leave across the political spectrum. But there are many nuances here, including how to fund the leave entitlement, how long the leave should be, and whether fathers and mothers ought to get the same treatment.

Some light can be thrown on these questions by an analysis of the American Family Survey conducted earlier this year by Deseret News and the Center for the Study of Elections and Democracy (disclosure: I am an adviser to the pollsters). 

Views differ over the optimum length of leave depending on whether it is for the mother or father, and whether it is paid or unpaid:

But even Republicans are quite supportive, backing almost four months of paid leave for mothers and three months for fathers. So on the face of it, Clinton’s plan should be a vote winner even among moderate Republicans.

There are important implications about gender roles here. Encouraging men to take paid leave is important not only for the quality of family life, but also for gender equality more generally. Attitudes towards the role of fathers are shifting, although the primacy of motherhood remains. Among every ideological group there was greater support for longer maternity than paternity leave. It is worth noting, however, that half the respondents supported equal leave for mothers and fathers; the variation is driven by those in the other half, who drew a distinction by gender.

It turns out that the order in which the question is asked also makes a difference. For half the respondents, the question about maternity leave came before the one on paternity leave. For the other half, the questions were asked in the opposite order. (Because of the design of the survey, respondents could not change their previous answer.) The ordering of the question had an influence on responses:

Among those who gave an answer on paternity leave first, the gap between the preferred length of leave for mothers and fathers was much less. This was especially true for unpaid leave.

When people think about paid parental leave, many may think automatically of a mother, just as they think of a man when asked to picture a “strong leader.” Asking about maternity leave first goes with the traditional cultural grain, and results in more support for mothers compared to fathers. Asking about paternity leave first interrupts the normal gender framing, and narrows the gap.

There has been a slow revolution in attitudes towards the respective roles of mothers and fathers, reflected in the strongly symmetrical attitudes towards maternity and paternity leave in this survey. But there is more work to do. Mothers and fathers both need help balancing paid work and family life. Let’s hope this can be at least one area of agreement between Clinton and Trump.

Politicians and scholars often lament the persistence of poverty across generations. But affluence persists, too. In the U.S. especially, the top of the income distribution is just as “sticky”, in intergenerational terms, as the bottom. The American upper middle class is reproducing itself quite effectively.

Class reproduction is of course driven by a whole range of factors, from parenting and family structure through formal education, informal learning, the use of social networks, and so on. Some are unfair: playing the legacy card in college admissions, securing internships via closed social networks, zoning out lower-income families from our neighborhoods and school catchment areas. (These “opportunity hoarding” mechanisms are the focus of my forthcoming book, Dream Hoarders.)

It is natural and laudable for parents to want their children to prosper. It is also understandable that they’ll use the resources and means at their disposal to try to reduce the chances of their children being downwardly mobile. They are likely to try even harder if the drop looks big, in economic terms.

There is a significant earnings gap between those at the top and those in the middle. But this gap is much bigger in the U.S. than in other nations, and is getting bigger over time:

The cost of falling reflects the particular way in which income inequality has risen in recent years: namely, at the top of the distribution. The relationship between income inequality and intergenerational mobility is a much-disputed one, as regular readers of this blog know well. Overall, the evidence for a “Great Gatsby Curve” is quite weak.

But at the top of the distribution, there could be some incentive effects linking inequality and immobility. As the income gap has widened at the top, the consequences of falling out of the upper middle class have worsened. So the incentives of the upper middle class to keep themselves, and their children, up at the top have strengthened. It looks like a long drop, because it is.

Upper middle class Americans do seem worried. In 2011, while around half of American adults making less than $30,000 per year agreed that “today’s children will lead a better life than their parents,” only 37 percent of those making $75,000 or more were as optimistic.

The greater spending of upper middle class parents on “enrichment activities” is well known; recent evidence suggests the Great Recession did nothing to reduce it. American upper middle class parents are desperate to secure their children a high position on the earnings ladder. This makes sense, given the consequences of downward mobility for their economic fortunes. Inequality incentivizes opportunity hoarding, which reduces social mobility. Time, perhaps, to lower the stakes a little?

Britain’s Conservative Party just tore itself apart over the EU referendum; David Cameron was forced to resign as prime minister. Yet the party in meltdown is Labour. Polling out this past weekend shows Labour drawing 31%, vs. 37% for Conservatives, if a general election were held tomorrow.

The Conservative Party, showing once again its extraordinary capacity for self-preservation, is closing ranks behind new Prime Minister Theresa May. Still, how can the Tories be riding so high after such a political omnishambles? One doesn’t have to look far for an answer: the hard-left Labour leader, Jeremy Corbyn.

Asked who is or would be the best prime minister, just 16% of British voters give Mr. Corbyn the thumbs-up, compared with 52% for Ms. May. Fewer than half of Labour supporters (48%) think Mr. Corbyn would be the best PM. In her first outing in the House of Commons, Ms. May easily trounced Mr. Corbyn. (Her performance was described by the left-leaning Guardian newspaper as a “brutally brilliant” debut.) No wonder most of his parliamentary colleagues have abandoned him, forcing a leadership contest.

Again, the Conservative Party has just presided over an amateurish, disastrous session of British political history. That Tories still dominate is less about their strength than their political opponents’ weakness.

So: What will happen? I’ve just been in London, and conversations with political insiders suggest that this is the most likely scenario to play out:

First, Jeremy Corbyn, having attracted many left-wingers onto party rolls, fends off challenger Owen Smith to retain the leadership of the Labour Party.

Next, the majority of Labour MPs set themselves up as a separate parliamentary group.

As the second-largest group in parliament, these MPs would become the official opposition. They could call themselves anything–say, New Labour Party. (Read this excellent summary of the constitutional implications by Meg Russell of the University College London). This means money and status. If the anti-Corbyn MPs can’t get a new leader, they’ll get a new party.

In the meantime, a few remaining anti-Corbyn MPs stay behind and try to recapture their party. The key here, for those interested in the details, is to take control of Unite, the U.K.’s largest trade union. (Unite’s leader, Len McCluskey, is a strong supporter of Mr. Corbyn and has rallied the union’s members behind him, but his term ends soon.)

If the Labour Party, reduced to a parliamentary rump, remains in Mr. Corbyn’s hands, the next general election would be the moment when the split becomes formal. The New Labour Party would try to attract Liberal Democrat and Green supporters, as well as pro-European conservatives.

Theresa May is likely to wait until the next scheduled general election, in 2020, to face voters. But if Labour were to split, she might decide to call a snap general election to take advantage of opponents’ disarray. Either way, it seems likely the Tories would win.

Center-left parties across the globe seem to be struggling to connect with the anxieties of ordinary voters, leaving them at the mercy of populist appeals. Between populist surges and volatile electorates, we are seeing destabilizing forces at work in politics. Strong political parties act as stabilizers in stormy waters. Whatever one’s individual politics, the fate of the Labour Party in Britain, and perhaps the Republican Party in the U.S., should concern us all.

Editor's note: This piece originally appeared in The Wall Street Journal. 

As a rhetorical ideal, greater opportunity is hard to beat. Just about all candidates for high elected office declare their commitments to promoting opportunity – who, after all, could be against it? But opportunity is, to borrow a term from the philosopher and political theorist Isaiah Berlin, a "protean" word, with different meanings for different people at different times.

Typically, opportunity is closely entwined with an idea of upward mobility, especially between generations. The American Dream is couched in terms of a daughter or son of bartenders or farm workers becoming a lawyer, or perhaps even a U.S. senator. But even here, there are competing definitions of upward mobility.

It might mean being better off than your parents were at a similar age. This is what researchers call "absolute mobility," and largely relies on economic growth – the proverbial rising tide that raises most boats.

Or it could mean moving to a higher rung of the ladder within society, and so ending up in a better relative position than one's parents.

Scholars label this movement "relative mobility." And while there are many ways to think about status or standard of living – education, wealth, health, occupation – the most common yardstick is household income at or near middle age (which, somewhat depressingly, tends to be defined as 40).

As a basic principle, we ought to care about both kinds of mobility as proxies for opportunity. We want children to have the chance to do absolutely and relatively well in comparison to their parents.

On the One Hand…

So how are we doing? The good news is that economic standards of living have improved over time. Most children are therefore better off than their parents. Among children born in the 1970s and 1980s, 84 percent had higher incomes (even after adjusting for inflation) than their parents did at a similar age, according to a Pew study. Absolute upward income mobility, then, has been strong, and has helped children from every income class, especially those nearer the bottom of the ladder. More than 9 in 10 of those born into families in the bottom fifth of the income distribution have been upwardly mobile in this absolute sense.

There's a catch, though. Strong absolute mobility goes hand in hand with strong economic growth. So it is quite likely that these rates of generational progress will slow, since the potential growth rate of the economy has probably diminished. This risk is heightened by an increasingly unequal division of the proceeds of growth in recent years. Today's parents are certainly worried. Surveys show that they are far less certain than earlier cohorts that their children will be better off than they are.

If the story on absolute mobility may be about to turn for the worse, the picture for relative mobility is already pretty bad. The basic message here: pick your parents carefully. If you are born to parents in the poorest fifth of the income distribution, your chance of remaining stuck in that income group is around 35 to 40 percent. If you manage to be born into a higher-income family, the chances are similarly good that you will remain there in adulthood.

It would be wrong, however, to say that class positions are fixed. There is still a fair amount of fluidity or social mobility in America – just not as much as most people seem to believe or want. Relative mobility is especially sticky in the tails at the high and low end of the distribution. Mobility is also considerably lower for blacks than for whites, with blacks much less likely to escape from the bottom rungs of the ladder. Equally ominously, they are much more likely to fall down from the middle quintile.

Relative mobility rates in the United States are lower than the rhetoric about equal opportunity might suggest and lower than people believe. But are they getting worse? Current evidence suggests not. In fact, the trend line for relative mobility has been quite flat for the past few decades, according to work by Raj Chetty of Stanford and his co-researchers. It is simply not the case that the amount of intergenerational relative mobility has declined over time.

Whether this will remain the case as the generations of children exposed to growing income inequality mature is not yet clear, though. As one of us (Sawhill) has noted, when the rungs on the ladder of opportunity grow further apart, it becomes more difficult to climb the ladder. To the same point, in his latest book, Our Kids – The American Dream in Crisis, Robert Putnam of Harvard argues that the growing gaps not just in income but also in neighborhood conditions, family structure, parenting styles and educational opportunities will almost inevitably lead to less social mobility in the future. Indeed, these multiple disadvantages or advantages are increasingly clustered, making it harder for children growing up in disadvantaged circumstances to achieve the dream of becoming middle class.

The Geography of Opportunity

Another way to assess the amount of mobility in the United States is to compare it to that found in other high-income nations. Mobility rates are highest in Scandinavia and lowest in the United States, Britain and Italy, with Australia, Western Europe and Canada lying somewhere in between, according to analyses by Jo Blanden, of the University of Surrey and Miles Corak of the University of Ottawa. Interestingly, the most recent research suggests that the United States stands out most for its lack of downward mobility from the top. Or, to paraphrase Billie Holiday, God blesses the child that's got his own.

Any differences among countries, while notable, are more than matched by differences within Pioneering work (again by Raj Chetty and his colleagues) shows that some cities have much higher rates of upward mobility than others. From a mobility perspective, it is better to grow up in San Francisco, Seattle or Boston than in Atlanta, Baltimore or Detroit. Families that move to these high-mobility communities when their children are still relatively young enhance the chances that the children will have more education and higher incomes in early adulthood. Greater mobility can be found in places with better schools, fewer single parents, greater social capital, lower income inequality and less residential segregation. However, the extent to which these factors are causes rather than simply correlates of higher or lower mobility is not yet known. Scholarly efforts to establish why it is that some children move up the ladder and others don't are still in their infancy.

Models of Mobility

What is it about their families, their communities and their own characteristics that determine why they do or do not achieve some measure of success later in life?

To help get at this vital question, the Brookings Institution has created a life-cycle model of children's trajectories, using data from the National Longitudinal Survey of Youth on about 5,000 children from birth to age 40. (The resulting Social Genome Model is now a partnership among three institutions: Brookings, the Urban Institute and Child Trends). Our model tracks children's progress through multiple life stages with a corresponding set of success measures at the end of each. For example, children are considered successful at the end of elementary school if they have mastered basic reading and math skills and have acquired the behavioral or non-cognitive competencies that have been shown to predict later success. At the end of adolescence, success is measured by whether the young person has completed high school with a GPA average of 2.5 or better and has not been convicted of a crime or had a baby as a teenager.

These metrics capture common-sense intuition about what drives success. But they are also aligned with the empirical evidence on life trajectories. Educational achievement, for example, has a strong effect on later earnings and income, and this well-known linkage is reflected in the model. We have worked hard to adjust for confounding variables but cannot be sure that all such effects are truly causal. We do know that the model does a good job of predicting or projecting later outcomes.

Three findings from the model stand out. First, it's clear that success is a cumulative process. According to our measures, a child who is ready for school at age 5 is almost twice as likely to be successful at the end of elementary school as one who is not.

This doesn't mean that a life course is set in stone this early, however.

Children who get off track at an early age frequently get back on track at a later age; it's just that their chances are not nearly as good. So this is a powerful argument for intervening early in life. But it is not an argument for giving up on older youth.

Second, the chances of clearing our last hurdle – being middle class by middle age (specifically, having an income of around $68,000 for a family of four by age 40) – vary quite significantly. A little over half of all children born in the 1980s and 1990s achieved this goal. But those who are black or born into low-income families were very much less likely than others to achieve this benchmark.

Third, the effect of a child's circumstances at birth is strong. We use a multidimensional measure here, including not just the family's income but also the mother's education, the marital status of the parents and the birth weight of the child. Together, these factors have substantial effects on a child's subsequent success. Maternal education seems especially important.

The Social Genome Model, then, is a useful tool for looking under the hood at why some children succeed and others don't. But it can also be used to assess the likely impact of a variety of interventions designed to improve upward mobility. For one illustrative simulation, we hand-picked a battery of programs shown to be effective at different life stages – a parenting program, a high-quality early-edcation program, a reading and socio-emotional learning program in elementary school, a comprehensive high school reform model – and assessed the possible impact for low-income children benefiting from each of them, or all of them.

No single program does very much to close the gap between children from lower- and higher-income families. But the combined effects of multiple programs – that is, from intervening early and often in a child's life – has a surprisingly big impact. The gap of almost 20 percentage points in the chances of low-income and high-income children reaching the middle class shrinks to six percentage points. In other words, we are able to close about two-thirds of the initial gap in the life chances of these two groups of children. The black-white gap narrows, too.

Looking at the cumulative impact on adult incomes over a working life (all appropriately discounted with time) and comparing these lifetime income benefits to the costs of the programs, we believe that such investments would pass a cost-benefit test from the perspective of society as a whole and even from the narrower prospective of the taxpayers who fund the programs.

What Now?

Understanding the processes that lie beneath the patterns of social mobility is critical. It is not enough to know how good the odds of escaping are for a child born into poverty. We want to know why. We can never eliminate the effects of family background on an individual's life chances. But the wide variation among countries and among cities in the U.S. suggests that we could do better – and that public policy may have an important role to play. Models like the Social Genome are intended to assist in that endeavor, in part by allowing policymakers to bench- test competing initiatives based on the statistical evidence.

America's presumed exceptionalism is rooted in part on a belief that class-based distinctions are less important than in Western Europe. From this perspective, it is distressing to learn that American children do not have exceptional opportunities to get ahead – and that the consequences of gaps in children's initial circumstances might embed themselves in the social fabric over time, leading to even less social mobility in the future.

But there is also some cause for optimism. Programs that compensate at least to some degree for disadvantages earlier in life really can close opportunity gaps and increase rates of social mobility. Moreover, by most any reasonable reckoning, the return on the public investment is high.

Editor's note: This piece originally appeared in the Milken Institute Review.