Growing from the middle out: the US economy in Obama’s second term

The US president needs to focus not just on employment per se but on creating good jobs.

The US economy has made a remarkable turnaround since 2008, moving from losing 800,000 jobs per month in the winter of 2009, to adding over 150,000 jobs per month over a two-year period. This shift from massive job losses to steady job gains occurred because of the decisive actions of policymakers who implemented a combination of monetary and fiscal policies in 2008 and 2009.

But while the economy has been in recovery since June 2009, the level of output continues to be significantly below potential, and as a result unemployment, especially long-term unemployment, remains unacceptably high. In his campaign, Obama made the case that the economy "grows from the middle out". Now, as president, he gets to work with Congress anew to realise that vision.

While the economics are fairly clear – and leading economists tend to be in broad agreement about this agenda – the politics are much more complex. The Democrats made significant victories in November’s election, keeping the presidency and increasing their seats in the Senate; however, the election also put Republicans in control of the US House of Representatives for the next two years.

It’s worth noting that while many of the policies implemented in response to the recession had a history of bipartisan support, Washington’s highly polarised political environment has meant that support for these efforts is now almost exclusively among Democrats. If he wants to see stronger improvements in the labour market, Obama will have to spend the next two years mitigating this gridlock and finding common ground.

Looking beyond the immediate problem of the fiscal cliff, Republican leaders in the House are unlikely to have any appetite for expansionary fiscal policy. Yet the president made the argument during the campaign that we ‘grow from the middle out’ – he now has to make this concept real, and lay out the specific policies that will accomplish this goal. He needs to focus not just on employment per se but on creating good jobs, with decent pay and benefits, and on the economic wellbeing of families, ensuring that every job is a good, pro-family job, and that families have the support they need.

Nearly half of all US workers do not have the right to take a sick day when they or a family member is ill, which creates enormous stress and anxiety for families. The typical US family paying for childcare spends about 13 per cent of their total family income on that care; families that need to pay for elderly care find that can be very expensive as well. Increasing funding for childcare and home health aids and other supports so that ageing Americans can live independently would not only help to support employment but would, in effect, boost the incomes of families who struggle to afford care. Similarly, focusing on policies that allow workers to balance work and family would show that the Obama administration truly understands what it means for families now that women are more typically than not also a family breadwinner.

While these issues are not currently at the top of the agenda, the president could begin to use the power of the bully pulpit to focus on increasing the net income of families, alongside policies to boost job creation and reduce unemployment, as this is the first step towards raising living standards more generally. These issues are ones that resonate especially strongly with women and Latino voters, although surveys show that the agenda around work and family resonates with conservative voters as well.

Another way to make real the idea of middle-out economics is to focus attention on America’s capacity to be a global leader in innovation and production. Over his first term, Obama put manufacturing and boosting exports at the top of his agenda, and the fact that he was unwilling to allow the US auto industry to die was a key component of his re-election campaign. Rebuilding US manufacturing should remain a key plank of our national investment strategy, and this includes making sure that any corporate tax reform follows the agenda that the president has already laid out, discouraging offshoring, encouraging domestic production, and stopping tax advantages for the use of debt over equity.

Critical to this strategy is tapping into the foundation laid by the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act in green technologies, such as through the production of components for solar and wind power generation as well as innovations in battery and other technologies. While there are certainly political hurdles, the president can make the compelling argument that these investments will improve US economic competitiveness and grow the economy over the long term, which resonates with the public. Furthermore, the administration could pursue a competitive dollar strategy, which would make US exports more affordable and would not necessarily require congressional action.

With President Obama winning a second term, he has a mandate to build on the successful policies of the first term. Putting the middle class at the core of what makes the economy grow, as he did during the campaign, would be a good place to start. Americans re-elected Obama because they believe he will do a better job bringing them a strong economy and – in no small part – because he recognises that a strong economy starts with them.

Heather Boushey is a visiting fellow at IPPR and senior economist at the Centre for American Progress in Washington DC. A longer version of this article appears in the latest edition of IPPR’s journal Juncture.

Barack Obama delivers a speech on the economy at the Daimler Detroit Diesel engine plant. Photograph: Getty Images.

Heather Boushey is a Visiting Fellow at IPPR and senior economist at the Centre for American Progress in Washington DC

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Andy Burnham and Sadiq Khan are both slippery self-mythologisers – so why do we rate one more than the other?

Their obsessions with their childhoods have both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

Andy Burnham is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s widely seen as an unprincipled flip-flopper.

Sadiq Khan is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s the hugely popular mayor of London, the voice of those who’d be proud to think of themselves as the metropolitan liberal elite, and is even talked of as a possible future leader of the Labour party.

Oh, and also they were both born in 1970. So that’s a thing they have in common, too.

Why it is this approach to politics should have worked so much better for the mayor of London than the would-be mayor of Manchester is something I’ve been trying to work out for a while. There are definite parallels between Burnham’s attempts to present himself as a normal northern bloke who likes normal things like football, and Sadiq’s endless reminders that he’s a sarf London geezer whose dad drove a bus. They’ve both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

And yes, Burnham apparent tendency to switch sides, on everything from NHS privatisation to the 2015 welfare vote to the leadership of Jeremy Corbyn, has given him a reputation for slipperiness. But Sadiq’s core campaign pledge was to freeze London transport fares; everyone said it was nonsense, and true to form it was, and you’d be hard pressed to find an observer who thought this an atypical lapse on the mayor’s part. (Khan, too, has switched sides on the matter of Jeremy Corbyn.)

 And yet, he seems to get away with this, in a way that Burnham doesn’t. His low-level duplicity is factored in, and it’s hard to judge him for it because, well, it’s just what he’s like, isn’t it? For a long time, the Tory leadership’s line on London’s last mayor was “Boris is Boris”, meaning, look, we don’t trust him either, but what you gonna do? Well: Sadiq is Sadiq.

Even the names we refer to them by suggest that one of these two guys is viewed very differently from the other. I’ve instinctively slipped into referring to the mayor of London by his first name: he’s always Sadiq, not Khan, just as his predecessors were Boris and Ken. But, despite Eoin Clarke’s brief attempt to promote his 2015 leadership campaign with a twitter feed called “Labour Andy”, Burnham is still Burnham: formal, not familiar. 

I’ve a few theories to explain all this, though I’ve no idea which is correct. For a while I’ve assumed it’s about sincerity. When Sadiq Khan mentions his dad’s bus for the 257th time in a day, he does it with a wink to the audience, making a crack about the fact he won’t stop going on about it. That way, the message gets through to the punters at home who are only half listening, but the bored lobby hacks who’ve heard this routine two dozen times before feel they’re in the joke.

Burnham, it seems to me, lacks this lightness of touch: when he won’t stop banging on about the fact he grew up in the north, it feels uncomfortably like he means it. And to take yourself seriously in politics is sometimes to invite others to make jokes at your expense.

Then again, perhaps the problem is that Burnham isn’t quite sincere enough. Sadiq Khan genuinely is the son of a bus-driving immigrant: he may keep going on about it, but it is at least true. Burnham’s “just a northern lad” narrative is true, too, but excludes some crucial facts: that he went to Cambridge, and was working in Parliament aged 24. Perhaps that shouldn’t change how we interpret his story; but I fear, nonetheless, it does.

Maybe that’s not it, though: maybe I’m just another London media snob. Because Burnham did grow up at the disadvantaged end of the country, a region where, for too many people, chasing opportunities means leaving. The idea London is a city where the son of a bus driver can become mayor flatters our metropolitan self-image; the idea that a northerner who wants to build a career in politics has to head south at the earliest opportunity does the opposite. 

So if we roll our eyes when Burnham talks about the north, perhaps that reflects badly on us, not him: the opposite of northern chippiness is southern snobbery.

There’s one last possibility for why we may rate Sadiq Khan more highly than Andy Burnham: Sadiq Khan won. We can titter a little at the jokes and the fibs but he is, nonetheless, mayor of London. Andy Burnham is just the bloke who lost two Labour leadership campaigns.

At least – for now. In six weeks time, he’s highly likely to the first mayor of Greater Manchester. Slipperiness is not the worst quality in a mayor; and so much of the job will be about banging the drum for the city, and the region, that Burnham’s tendency to wear his northernness on his sleeve will be a positive boon.

Sadiq Khan’s stature has grown because the fact he became London’s mayor seems to say something, about the kind of city London is and the kind we want it to be. Perhaps, after May, Andy Burnham can do the same for the north – and the north can do the same for Andy Burnham.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.