The American Dream
Monday, February 18th, 2008Economic and social aspiration in the United States of America: Spam, Gatsby, and ignorance.
I just moderated five new blog comments. All were spam. It’s easy to dislike spammers; they fill our mailboxes with junk, cause us to peruse and delete multiple messages per day, or resort to services and tactics to defend ourselves against their relentless barrage of solicitations. But spammers represent a realization of the American dream. They seize upon their chance to sieve gold-dust from dirt. Nowhere in the Constitution of the United States does it say that citizens must apologize for doing what they do in pursuit of prosperity and freedom. Far from it, the constitution trumpets not only that others should expect no apology, but that there is no need for an apology.
The NY Times, in one of its pseudo-news, liberal fluff pieces (when I read these I understand why conservatives boil at the Times’ political bias,) attempts to find meaning in various opinions on why Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby speaks to people, particularly immigrants. The story misses The Great Gatsby’s introspection — it is what it is, a particularly engaging, somewhat over-dramatic picture of an America full tilt in industrial and economic momentum. Does Gunter Grass speak to German immigrants with The Tin Drum? Does Thomas Bernhardt speak to Austrian immigrants with Old Masters? Does Camus speak to French immigrants with The Stranger? Borges, Calvino, Fuentes, Amis, Faulkner… They write what niggles them, what gets under their skin.
Fitzgerald was niggled by aspects of the American Dream. He was niggled by its shallowness, its ultimate lack of fulfillment. And he saw its allure, its lure.
It’s President’s Day. An op-ed piece on George Washington speaks of his miserable last year in office. Washington felt overwhelmed by the burdens of office, disappointment at the squaring off of Hamilton and Jefferson. And perhaps disappointment at the path that the new nation had settled upon — freed from its ties with England, established as a power in its own right. One can imagine that Washington began to recognize that defining ones-self in opposition to something does not necessarily define ones-self for the better. Before Washington’s presidency, the nation’s conceit represented boundless hope. By the end of his presidency, this conceit was locked into a battle between options and opinions — between the vision of Jefferson, the creative, wide-reading intellectual, and Hamilton, the man of vigorous industry and capital.
Susan Jacoby writes about what the Times calls a generalized hostility to knowledge in America today. She complains that Americans compare poorly to those in other countries on matters of fundamental global knowledge and general awareness. While this is undoubtedly true, it seems reasonable to assume that this is a matter of emphasis rather than aptitude. Since America defines itself as the land of opportunity (meaning economic opportunity) and indifference (meaning, if we’re #1, why do we need to know what anyone else is doing?) we should not be surprised that these traits reveal themselves. For all their lack of global know-how, Americans reign supreme in getting it done. The 100 meter sprinter does not fool himself into thinking that he can win against the marathon runner over 26 miles.
But implicit in Susan Jacoby’s frustrations, implicit in the Times’ expansive, optimistic commentary on Fitzgerald’s legacy for American immigrants is the question of whether America’s choice of focus is a good choice, a better choice than others. Just because an American idol contestant doesn’t know the capital of Hungary, or that Hungary is a country, does this mean that America is on the wrong path, has made a poor choice of focus?
It strikes me that this question shouldn’t be put to the nation. The nation has long since made the choice. The nation is far down that road. Any turning back, any deviation, would have to come through a collective decision to deviate. Plenty of people in America know that Hungary is a country. Plenty of people know the capital of Hungary. Plenty of people would ascribe to Jefferson’s view of the world as an endless wonder, worthy of our most intense attention. Only if and when the thirst for knowledge and truth outweighs the thirst for economic and material satisfaction will the American Dream begin to change. I say ‘when’ because all things change.
The American Dream that has survived these couple of hundred years has survived because its promise has never quite exhausted itself. But whether it happens in ten years or a hundred years or longer, the demographic of hope will shift. Just as Egypt, the land of Pharaohs and pyramids is today a crumbling wreck, so, too will one day the recollection of America’s youthful grasp for prosperity and power cause heads to shake in wonder.
For more rational, science-based explanations of life’s meaning and purpose, please refer to my book: LIFE! Why We Exist… And What We Must Do To Survive.

Paul Krugman
And Bush
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There’s an oft-repeated myth that George Washington invited Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson into his first cabinet in order to bring both sides to the table. It’s a myth because there was no formal or informal opposition at the time. Washington wanted the best minds and hearts in the country at his table. Hamilton and Jefferson developed partisan divisions over the course of their tenure in Washington’s cabinet. Washington over time veered toward Hamilton’s Federalism, but truly wanted and valued Jefferson’s more democratic counsel.
Of course, the Indonesian researchers also discovered a tiny possum, one of the smallest marsupials in the world. Krugman would doubtless liken Obama to that diminutive possum before he’d liken him to the massive rat. But couldn’t a possum win the hearts of big business, just as his brother rat would nip at their ankles?