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How Trump Anxiety Is Spawning Business Opportunities And Marketing Campaigns Across America

Reprinted with permission from Alternet.

Reports from the World Health Organization have shown that Americans are among the most anxious, depressed people in the world—and that was before a reality television star settled into the White House, bringing with him a percussive beat of mean-spirited executive orders, obnoxious presidential tweets and bare-knuckled attacks on civil society as we know it.

Marketers are experts at monetizing disquiet. In liberal hubs, where the affluent work and play, Trump anxiety is providing a boost in certain sectors as businesses cater to those hoping to reclaim a sense of sanity and wellbeing. Addled urbanites are heading to therapy in droves. Mental health practitioners report that distressed clients are willing to pay large sums just to talk about their political angst, citing everything from gastrointestinal symptoms to overwhelming feelings of powerlessness.

Others seek sanctuaries from the storm. “Nesting at home is the new going out,” proclaims one trend-watching website. High-end stores are offering “orglamic” designs that make the buyer feel trendily sustainable by purchasing luxury items for the home. Elle Décor advises readers that 2017 will go down as “a bright year filled with cheery colors, mixed patterns, and happy motifs—plus a few unexpected twists.” (You can say that again!) A shade called Greenery is the 2017 Pantone Paint Color of the Year, touted as just the cure for “a complex political and social environment.” Butterfly motifs, with their “buoyant, happy” vibe are also trending.

Having tense political discussions with your spouse? Separate master bedrooms are a new trend in upscale homes. Feeling nutritionally depleted? High-tech indoor gardening equipment, such as Urban Cultivator (priced at $2,500), allows you to cultivate artisanal greens without leaving your newly remodeled kitchen. Added bonus: you get to brag to dinner party guests who ask where the salad is “sourced.” Just don’t let them bring up politics.

Contemporary liberals are known for their ability to transform existential angst and hard-to-define guilt into a variety of discrete symptoms, from phantom food allergies to strange new trepidations such as “natural environment phobia,” a fear of engaging with nature. Now that the gluten-free trend has taken a beating, marketers turn their attention to other buzzwords that can be profitably worked into the American health vocabulary. Food brands touting inflammation-fighting benefits are on the rise, as well as medicinal beverages and superfood herbal libations promising cosmic calm.

An explosion of wellness coaches, personal training apps and wearable technology allows you to focus 24/7 on body/mind optimization. Getting drunk to kill the blues is very last year, say the marketers, so now some Angelinos and New Yorkers are offered alcohol-free party popups like “The Softer Image,” which features a “high vibe bar” with “rotating herbalists and chefs” to provide healing energy and nourishment that will not produce hangovers. The goal of the gatherings, say the advertisers, is simple: bliss. In Los Angeles, Integral Fitness offers a monthly Conscious Family Dinner in which alcohol is verboten, but “transformation, healing and empowerment” are happily on the menu.

Fitness cults are a tried and true way to tame the stress devil, and the focus now is on exercise not merely as a health-maintenance activity, but a cure for isolation. Instead of hitting the nightclub on a Friday night, city-dwellers can enjoy a “heart-pumping happy hour” at Barry’s Bootcamp, complete with a DJ to “drown out the pain.” Regulars refer to the sessions as “church.”

The WOOM Center, a “multi-sensory” yoga/meditation studio and café in downtown Manhattan, fosters a sense of community and womb-like bliss—at least that’s the theory. On a recent weekend, I tried it out for myself, assuming strenuous yoga poses in an overheated room as rainbow-colored digital bubbles pulsated on the walls, all the while ducking streams of sweat produced from the yogi beside me. This was followed by a lavender spritz and complimentary beet-juice tonic. Overall result: more nausea than nirvana.

Meditation is the hottest trend in self-soothing—it doesn’t require turning yourself into a pretzel and nobody will projectile sweat on you. Back in the day, you could drop a couple of bucks in the donation box at your local Dharma center and do your thing. But now meditation “consumers” can take their pick of high-end settings, lavish accoutrements and scientifically based programming. In New York, young professionals don athleisure wear for meditation classes at the trendy Standard Hotel in the East Village.

Classes are hosted by a company called The Path, which (for $600 a year) promises you elite training with master teachers, fun social events and opulent settings for your journey inward. Mndfl, touted by Vogue as Manhattan’s “must-visit meditation center,” claims it simply “exists to make humans feel good.” I stopped by for a drop-in session and was greeted by an enthusiastic young woman who chirped about the books from various gurus available for purchase and proudly showed me a wall covered in actual living moss and lichen. I dutifully crouched on a zafu cushion in a somewhat cramped room as a guide offered pleasant banalities on “letting go” and mentally rowing myself in a visionary canoe. Unfortunately, just as I was getting there, the fart of a fellow traveler jolted me back to reality.

The hands-down favorite in my deluxe meditation tour was Inscape, a “multi-platform meditation brand” that operates both a gorgeous 5,000-square-foot Manhattan studio space with classes and has its own iOS app. Upon entering, you pass through a self-care-themed gift shop stocked with expensive soy candles and books by mavens of mindfulness like actress Cameron Diaz. As I settled into a natural-fiber beanbag chair sipping cucumber-infused water waiting for my class to begin, I had to admit, I could get very comfortable here. Sessions take place in one of two soothingly decorated rooms, with soft colored lights and macramé designs festooning the ceiling. There are no teachers, just a recorded female voice who guides your journey in soothing Australian-accented cadences. For my “Deep Sound” experience, I lay on a plush mat, supported by pillows as cosmic pulsations vibrated my body. I was sonically swaddled, and I liked it.

Trendsetters like Arianna Huffington have cashed in on all the free-floating anxiety by getting well ahead of the game. Last year, the internet doyenne exited her famous website to found Thrive Global, which delivers corporate training that promises to make America’s employees happy and well-rested. With a little more sleep and meditation, she wagers, workers can forget about job insecurity, our nightmare health care system and fading dreams of retirement. The Thrive Global store offers $200 pajamas and “biologically correct” light bulbs in service to this noble vision.

Human beings, marketers realize, have deep urges to huddle and soothe themselves. Through all the 24/7 Trump-invested cable news and vitriolic social media platforms, people are understandably trying to remember the basics of who they are and what they need.  Trying out a fancy meditation studio is surely preferable to regressing into self-destruction via prescription drugs, but self-care doesn’t have to cost bundles; just about anyone can take a walk, listen to music, do deep breathing exercises, or hug somebody.

There’s a danger in turning solipsistically inward and relying on expansions of the market to counter the shrinkage of our social space, the destruction of our institutions and the despoliation of nature. The market ideology of competition, which roots us in crisis and struggle with one another, will not get us through this. No spa or superfood can release us from the grip of a distorted social order. We need something besides adult coloring books to reclaim our lives from alien markets and politicians.

The trend toward activism, for example, can combat feelings of powerlessness, and this doesn’t have to mean something as silly as “dressing for resistance” in a feminist T-shirt, as Vogue suggests. Volunteering can help restore positive social bonding that is more satisfying than relying on high-cost pseudo-communities.

When people are under stress, the default position is us v. them, and perhaps the greatest need is for liberals to stop embubbling themselves and acting as if entire regions of the country and populations of people are evil. Getting out of our small, self-reinforcing groups to listen to those whose lives have been decimated by the current system—like white, working-class Trump voters—will be a key ingredient in any social and economic transformation. Realizing that human beings everywhere are mostly pretty decent people just trying to deal with the vicissitudes of life is an existential tonic.

Liberals need to get a bit out of their comfort zones; otherwise the hucksters of happiness will be only too glad to peddle false cures for pathologies that will never be solved by a soy candle.

 

Lynn Parramore is contributing editor at AlterNet. She is cofounder of Recessionwire, founding editor of New Deal 2.0, and author of “Reading the Sphinx: Ancient Egypt in Nineteenth-Century Literary Culture.” She received her Ph.D. in English and cultural theory from NYU, and she serves on the editorial board of Lapham’s Quarterly. Follow her on Twitter @LynnParramore. 

This article was made possible by the readers and supporters of AlterNet.

America Is Regressing Into A Developing Nation For Most People

Reprinted with permission from Alternet.

This post originally appeared on the blog of the Institute for New Economic Thinking.

You’ve probably heard the news that the celebrated post-WW II beating heart of America known as the middle class has gone from “burdened,” to “squeezed” to “dying.” But you might have heard less about what exactly is emerging in its place.

In a new book, The Vanishing Middle Class: Prejudice and Power in a Dual Economy, Peter Temin, professor emeritus of economics at MIT, draws a portrait of the new reality in a way that is frighteningly, indelibly clear: America is not one country anymore. It is becoming two, each with vastly different resources, expectations and fates.

In one of these countries live members of what Temin calls the “FTE sector” (named for finance, technology and electronics, the industries that largely support its growth). These are the 20 percent of Americans who enjoy college educations, have good jobs and sleep soundly knowing that they have not only enough money to meet life’s challenges, but also social networks to bolster their success. They grow up with parents who read books to them, tutors to help with homework and plenty of stimulating things to do and places to go. They travel in planes and drive new cars. The citizens of this country see economic growth all around them and exciting possibilities for the future. They make plans, influence policies and count themselves lucky to be Americans.

The FTE citizens rarely visit the country where the other 80 percent of Americans live: the low-wage sector. Here, the world of possibility is shrinking, often dramatically. People are burdened with debt and anxious about their insecure jobs if they have a job at all. Many of them are getting sicker and dying younger than they used to. They get around by crumbling public transport and cars they have trouble paying for. Family life is uncertain here; people often don’t partner for the long-term even when they have children. If they go to college, they finance it by going heavily into debt. They are not thinking about the future; they are focused on surviving the present. The world in which they reside is very different from the one they were taught to believe in. While members of the first country act, these people are acted upon.

The two sectors, notes Temin, have entirely distinct financial systems, residential situations and educational opportunities. Quite different things happen when they get sick or when they interact with the law. They move independently of each other. Only one path exists by which the citizens of the low-wage country can enter the affluent one, and that path is fraught with obstacles. Most have no way out.

The richest large economy in the world, says Temin, is coming to have an economic and political structure more like a developing nation. We have entered a phase of regression and one of the easiest ways to see it is in our infrastructure: our roads and bridges look more like those in Thailand or Venezuela than the Netherlands or Japan. But it goes far deeper than that, which is why Temin uses a famous economic model created to understand developing nations to describe how far inequality has progressed in the United States. The model is the work of West Indian economist W. Arthur Lewis, the only person of African descent to win a Nobel Prize in economics. For the first time, this model is applied with systematic precision to the U.S.

The result is profoundly disturbing.

In the Lewis model of a dual economy, much of the low-wage sector has little influence over public policy. Check. The high-income sector will keep wages down in the other sector to provide cheap labor for its businesses. Check. Social control is used to keep the low-wage sector from challenging the policies favored by the high-income sector. Mass incarceration: check. The primary goal of the richest members of the high-income sector is to lower taxes. Check. Social and economic mobility is low. Check.

In the developing countries Lewis studied, people try to move from the low-wage sector to the affluent sector by transplanting from rural areas to the city to get a job. Occasionally it works; often it doesn’t. Temin says that today in the U.S., the ticket out is education, which is difficult for two reasons: you have to spend money over a long period of time, and the FTE sector is making those expenditures more and more costly by defunding public schools and making policies that increase student debt burdens.

Getting a good education, Temin observes, isn’t just about a college degree. It has to begin in early childhood, and you need parents who can afford to spend time and resources all along the long journey. If you aspire to college and your family can’t make transfers of money to you on the way, well, good luck to you. Even with a diploma, you will likely find that high-paying jobs come from networks of peers and relatives. Social capital, as well as economic capital, is critical, but because of America’s long history of racism and the obstacles it has created for accumulating both kinds of capital, black graduates often can only find jobs in education, social work, and government instead of higher-paying professional jobs like technology or finance— something most white people are not really aware of. Women are also held back by a long history of sexism and the burdens — made increasingly heavy — of making greater contributions to the unpaid care economy and lack of access to crucial healthcare.

What happened to America’s middle class, which rose triumphantly in the post-World War II years, buoyed by the GI bill, the victories of labor unions and programs that gave the great mass of workers and their families health and pension benefits that provided security?

The dual economy didn’t happen overnight, says Temin. The story started just a couple of years after the ’67 Summer of Love. Around 1970, the productivity of workers began to get divided from their wages. Corporate attorney and later Supreme Court Justice Lewis Powell galvanized the business community to lobby vigorously for its interests. Johnson’s war on poverty was replaced by Nixon’s war on drugs, which sectioned off many members of the low-wage sector, disproportionately black, into prisons. Politicians increasingly influenced by the FTE sector turned from public-spirited universalism to free-market individualism. As money-driven politics accelerated (a phenomenon explained by the Investment Theory of Politics), leaders of the FTE sector became increasingly emboldened to ignore the needs of members of the low-wage sector, or even to actively work against them.

America’s underlying racism has a continuing distorting impact. A majority of the low-wage sector is white, with blacks and Latinos making up the other part, but politicians learned to talk as if the low-wage sector is mostly black because it allowed them to appeal to racial prejudice, which is useful in maintaining support for the structure of the dual economy — and hurting everyone in the low-wage sector. Temin notes that “the desire to preserve the inferior status of blacks has motivated policies against all members of the low-wage sector.”

Temin points out that the presidential race of 2016 both revealed and amplified the anger of the low-wage sector at this increasing imbalance. Low-wage whites who had been largely invisible in public policy until recently came out of their quiet despair to be heard. Unfortunately, present trends are not only continuing, but also accelerating their problems, freezing the dual economy into place.

 

We’ve been digging ourselves into a hole for over 40 years, but Temin says we know how to stop digging. If we spent more on domestic rather than military activities, then the middle class would not vanish as quickly. The effects of technological change and globalization could be altered by political actions. We could restore and expand education, shifting resources from policies like mass incarceration to improving the human and social capital of all Americans. We could upgrade infrastructure, forgive mortgage and educational debt in the low-wage sector, reject the notion that private entities should replace democratic government in directing society, and focus on embracing an integrated American population. We could tax not only the income of the rich, but also their capital.

The cost of not doing these things, Temin warns, is incalculably high, and even the rich will end up paying for it.

“Look at the movie Hidden Figures,” he says. “It recounts a very dramatic story about three African-American women condemned to have a life of not being paid very well teaching in black colleges, and yet their fates changed when they were tapped by NASA to contribute to space exploration. Today we are losing the ability to find people like that. We have a structure that predetermines winners and losers. We are not getting the benefits of all the people who could contribute to the growth of the economy, to advances in medicine or science which could improve the quality of life for everyone — including some of the rich people.”

Along with Thomas Piketty, whose Capital in the Twenty-First Century examines historical and modern inequality, Temin’s book has provided a giant red flag, illustrating a trajectory that will continue to accelerate as long as the 20 percent in the FTE sector are permitted to operate a country within America solely for themselves at the expense of the majority. Without a robust middle class, America is not only reverting to developing-country status, it is increasingly ripe for serious social turmoil that has not been seen in generations.

A dual economy has separated America from the idea of what most of us thought the country was meant to be.

 Lynn Parramore is contributing editor at AlterNet. She is co-founder of Recessionwire, founding editor of New Deal 2.0, and author of “Reading the Sphinx: Ancient Egypt in Nineteenth-Century Literary Culture.” She received her Ph.D. in English and cultural theory from NYU, and she serves on the editorial board of Lapham’s Quarterly. Follow her on Twitter @LynnParramore.

This article was made possible by the readers and supporters of AlterNet.