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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The dog at the end of the lead may be small, but in fact what I’m walking is a hound of love

There is a new, hairy face in the Hovel.

There is a new, hairy face in the Hovel. I seem to have become a temporary co-owner of an enthusiastic Chorkie. A Chorkie, in case you’re not quite up to speed with your canine crossbreeds, is a mixture of a chihuahua and a Yorkshire Terrier, and while my friend K— busies herself elsewhere I am looking after this hound.

This falls squarely into the category of Things I Never Thought I’d Do. I’m a cat person, taking my cue from their idleness, cruelty and beauty. Dogs, with their loyalty, their enthusiasm and their barking, are all a little too much for me, even after the first drink of the day. But the dog is here, and I am in loco parentis, and it is up to me to make sure that she is looked after and entertained, and that there is no repetition of the unfortunate accident that occurred outside my housemate’s room, and which needed several tissues and a little poo baggie to make good.

As it is, the dog thinks I am the bee’s knees. To give you an idea of how beeskneesian it finds me, it is licking my feet as I write. “All right,” I feel like saying to her, “you don’t have to go that far.”

But it’s quite nice to be worshipped like this, I have decided. She has also fallen in love with the Hovel, and literally writhes with delight at the stinky cushions on the sofa. Named after Trude Fleischmann, the lesbian erotic photographer of the Twenties, Thirties and Forties, she has decided, with admirable open-mindedness, that I am the Leader of the Pack. When I take the lead, K— gets a little vexed.

“She’s walking on a loose lead, with you,” K— says. “She never does that when I’m walking her.” I don’t even know what that means, until I have a think and work it out.

“She’s also walking to heel with you,” K— adds, and once again I have to join a couple of mental dots before the mists part. It would appear that when it comes to dogs, I have a natural competence and authority, qualities I had never, not even in my most deranged flights of self-love, considered myself to possess in any measurable quantity at all.

And golly, does having a dog change the relationship the British urban flâneur has with the rest of society. The British, especially those living south of Watford, and above all those in London, do not recognise other people’s existence unless they want to buy something off them or stop them standing on the left of the sodding escalator, you idiot. This all changes when you have a dog with you. You are now fair game for any dog-fancier to come up to you and ask the most personal questions about the dog’s history and genealogy. They don’t even have to have a dog of their own; but if you do, you are obliged by law to stop and exchange dog facts.

My knowledge of dog facts is scant, extending not much further beyond them having a leg at each corner and chasing squirrels, so I leave the talking to K—, who, being a friendly sort who could probably talk dog all day long if pressed, is quite happy to do that. I look meanwhile in a kind of blank wonder at whichever brand of dog we’ve just encountered, and marvel not only at the incredible diversity of dog that abounds in the world, but at a realisation that had hitherto escaped me: almost half of London seems to have one.

And here’s the really interesting thing. When I have the leash, the city looks at me another way. And, specifically, the young women of the city. Having reached the age when one ceases to be visible to any member of the opposite sex under 30, I find, all of a sudden, that I exist again. Women of improbable beauty look at Trude, who looks far more Yorkie than chihuahua, apart from when she does that thing with the ears, and then look at me, and smile unguardedly and unironically, signalling to me that they have decided I am a Good Thing and would, were their schedules not preventing them, like to chat and get to know me and the dog a bit better.

I wonder at first if I am imagining this. I mention it to K—.

“Oh yes,” she says, “it’s a thing. My friend P-J regularly borrows her when he wants to get laid. He reckons he’s had about 12 shags thanks to her in the last six months. The problems only arise when they come back again and notice the dog isn’t there.”

I do the maths. Twelve in six months! That’s one a fortnight. An idea begins to form in my mind. I suppose you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to work out what it is. But no. I couldn’t. Could I?

Nicholas Lezard is a literary critic for the Guardian and also writes for the Independent. He writes the Down and Out in London column for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 28 April 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The new fascism