Historians will focus on the dominant fact of the Clinton presidency, which is that it coincided with a remarkable acceleration in something that already was impressive–America’s creation of wealth. They will try to determine the degree to which his presidency was a cause of that. The questions will be: To what extent did policies of the federal government contribute to that? To what extent was Clinton the author of those policies?
Sorting out social causation is usually the stuff of unending–because unendable–historical arguments. (What caused the American Revolution? The Civil War? The Depression? The 1994 election results?) About American wealth creation in the 1990s, some questions will be:
To what extent was it primarily just the fecundity of freedom in a nation with a continental market and an educated and industrious population? To what extent was it the fruition of social policies–from education to infrastructure, from tax and spending and regulatory decisions to Federal Reserve actions–that were not primarily federal (e.g., education policies, which are primarily the province of state governments)? To what extent was the wealth creation spurred by policies that were not initiated in the Clinton years (e.g., economic deregulation and infrastructure investments)? To what extent was the boom the result of the fourth branch of the federal government (Alan Greenspan)? Or of actions imposed upon Clinton (the commitment to a balanced budget)? And if national ““confidence’’ or ““optimism’’ were contributing causes of this wealth creation, how does one locate, and assign credit for, the causes of those causes?
However, one thing is clear: international trade has been one locomotive pulling the nation to new heights of prosperity. And Clinton deserves considerable credit for continuing the bipartisan tradition, unbroken during the postwar era, of moving the nation, and the world, up from protectionism. This movement has been halting, grudging and very partial, and has involved the proliferation of semi-protectionist ““free trade areas.’’ Nevertheless, trade liberalization has been heartening evidence of social learning by the nations. Clinton was correct, if impolitic, in calling the ““fast track’’ question a ““no-brainer.’’ However, Clinton’s humiliation at the hands of his own party was condign punishment for his emotive politics–his reduction of liberalism to sentimentalism. When he says ““I feel your pain’’ he is just pouring his distinctive syrup on what Democratic rhetoric reveals is the party’s core value–compassion, meaning the prevention or amelioration of pain. Free trade, like economic dynamism, generally intensifies capitalism’s churning–what Joseph Schumpeter called ““creative destruction.’’ This permanent turbulence is good for most Americans, but it causes pain to some. And the good done is often diffuse and barely noticed (e.g., dampened inflation, improved consumer choices) while the pain (e.g., displaced jobs) is usually acute and specific. Hence the protectionist temptation, a hardy perennial.
It is ominous that most House Democrats have succumbed to that temptation at a time of 4.7 percent unemployment. What follies of ““compassion’’ (flowing from the fallacy that trade is a zero-sum game) can be expected when the road becomes rockier? Two days after ““fast track’’ was declared dead, some slayers of it were citing, as justification, the news that Fruit of the Loom is cutting 2,900 more jobs (it cut 4,800 in August) as it moves its sewing operations offshore. Do protectionists really think America’s vitality depends on preserving jobs sewing underwear?
What House Democrats did was also ominous for Al Gore. The memorable title of a book that has delighted millions of children is ““Alexander & the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.’’ Gore is having that kind of year. His presidential aspirations are bound up with the carefully cultivated perception of him as a man of probity and a far-seeing intellect. But his dealings with Buddhist monks, and his general proximity to Clinton, have taken a toll on the notion that he has cornered the market on virtue. And now his party has gone a long way toward defining itself as plain dumb.
Dumbness is not necessarily bad politics. However, dumbness in the form of protectionism is politically problematic because it goes against the American grain of optimism. The AFL-CIO spokeswoman was a tad overheated when she called the fight against ““fast track’’ a fight for ““the soul of the country,’’ but this much is true: The fearfulness that expresses itself in protectionism (““Protect us from the competition of poorer nations’’) will, over time, produce the shriveled soul of a country fighting an unending series of rearguard skirmishes against the future.
Recently–since the losses in the 1978 off-year elections–the Democratic Party’s two biggest problems have been the perception that it is the captive of grasping factions, such as organized labor, and the (related) perception that it is a party most comfortable representing social casualties and professional victims–people insecure about their ability to cope with life, and therefore eager to barter freedom for such ““security’’ as government can provide against life’s vicissitudes.
The ““fast track’’ episode reveals the Democratic Party increasingly dominated by organized labor, a faction of decreasing significance in American life, and one increasingly defined by public- sector unions–government organized as a faction. And as Silicon Valley shimmers as a symbol of America’s bright future, the Democratic Party speaks for the underwear industry.
