Okay nation
Alan Wolfe's new book has taken people by surprise: apparently Middle America
is less fractious than we think. But is that such a good thing?
interview by Alicia Potter
There's discord the land of barbecues and bake sales, or so the polls say.
And politicians tell of a rift in middle-class America, an ideological fracture
between the flag-waving, God-fearing right and the feminist, multiculturalist
left. By all accounts, middle-class Americans are deeply divided.
Boston University sociologist Alan Wolfe and a research assistant spent two
years interviewing 200 middle-class Americans in eight suburban communities
(including Brookline and Medford) on such loaded topics as God, country,
family, race, and poverty. He distills these conversations in a revelatory new
book, One Nation, After All (Viking). His conclusion: the middle-class
cultural war isn't ending anytime soon. Why? Because it doesn't exist.
Wolfe argues that middle-class Americans don't deserve their reputation as
angry, sanctimonious, and narrow-minded. On the contrary, he finds, they're
optimistic, thoughtful, hard-working, and slow to judge; they also hew much
closer to the center of the political and moral spectrum than anyone seems to
realize. If anything, middle-class Americans are divided within -- not
among -- themselves as they strive to balance traditional and modern
moralities. Wolfe even goes so far as to say they're nice.
Wolfe's interviews paint a picture of surprising temperance, an image
strikingly at odds with current poll data and political rhetoric. His research
uncovers no fundamentalist religious revival; no sharp antagonism toward
working women, people of color, or immigrants. In fact, middle-class Americans
profess to tolerate everything -- except, disturbingly, homosexuality.
From his brick-front home in suburban Wellesley, Wolfe talked with the
Phoenix about what it really means to be a middle-class American and
what his book implies for democracy's future.
Q: How would you characterize the middle-class mindset?
A: I think it is the exact opposite of what we were told it was
in the 1950s and 1960s. When you go back and read the novels of John Updike or
John Cheever, or the pop sociology of that period, they all said that people
pointed the finger of blame at others, while they themselves were hypocritical.
They drank too much, they had affairs, and so on.
I think that it's the exact opposite. I think that people are hard on
themselves. They say, "I know what right and wrong are for me," but they're
enormously reluctant to point the finger of blame at other people. We have this
idea that suburban middle-class life means a life of stultifying conformity,
but it's actually much more open than that.
Q: Why was it important for you to get this idea out?
A: Because I think the misdiagnosis of what was on the minds of
the middle class has caused us great harm.
The Republicans, in particular, made the case that if we just got back to
middle-class morality we'd discover how deeply religious people are, how
committed they are to a Christian conception of good and evil, and we'd abolish
secular humanism and have discipline in the schools.
For reasons I don't understand, the left agreed with this characterization of
the middle class. But they said, "Yeah, we better not go back to middle-class
morality, because all these terrible things will happen." And no one had
actually gone out and looked at what middle-class people really believed, what
was going on in their minds.
Q: Why do we see the middle class as angry and divided?
A: Certainly a big part of it comes from interest groups that
have a particular cause. They want to portray the middle class as angry and
divided because that helps their cause.
Sometimes I get this awful image that the American Civil Liberties Union and
the Christian Coalition, which are ostensibly enemies, actually sit down in
Washington and have lunch together. The Christian Coalition says, "We'll scare
our followers by talking about the ACLU." The ACLU says, "We'll scare our
followers by talking about the Christian Coalition." They feed off each other.
Interest groups with single-issue agendas try to raise money by insisting how
angry people are. That's their way of getting people mobilized.
So I think that's part of it. To some degree, I blame polls that say, "Do you
strongly agree or do you strongly disagree?" and then force people into a
category when they may actually agree in part and disagree in part. I think
intellectuals contribute to this. The left wants a cultural war to exist so
that they can win; the right wants a cultural war to exist so that they
can win. There's a whole lot of people who want to portray the middle class as
angry. But I think they middle class is very optimistic.
Q: In your book, you say middle-class Americans are uncomfortable
with controversy, and also that democracy depends on controversy to advance.
What does this mean for our country?
A: There are things about middle-class morality that are
troublesome. I worry that the nonjudgmentalism I found -- while very nice
because it means we're not fighting a bloody civil war -- has a real underside.
It shows that people might not be at all interested in anybody else. You have
to really be interested in someone to pass judgment on them. Real tolerance, as
opposed to nonjudgmentalism, means you are willing to accept something that you
fundamentally disagree with.
So long as [people are nonjudgmental], we're going to avoid real crises. We're
not going to have a civil war, we're not going to have anything like you find
in Northern Ireland or Bosnia. But we're also never likely to have a really
great president, a leader like we had in the New Deal, for example. That's the
price.
It's almost as if people understand that. Clinton gets by with what he does
because people don't have any expectations of him. One consequence is that he
may actually last for eight years as president, which is rare these days. On
the other hand, I don't think anyone is going to say Clinton was a great
president who inspired Americans. He's the perfect man for the middle-class
morality; he's a man of some obvious personal ambition but extremely modest
vision. His vision exactly fits the mood of the country right now, because it
doesn't want a vision.
Q: You say you were actually disappointed there wasn't a cultural
war going on. Why?
A: Because I'm not just a sociologist. I write for very
opinionated magazines [the New Republic, the New Yorker], and I
write in a very opinionated way. I clearly have my own views, and that part of
me would have liked to see more engagement with political controversy.
Sometimes the reasonableness, the sensitivity, the thoughtfulness just drove
me batty. Sometimes the nonjudgmentalism drove me batty. I just wanted to
scream at people, "You know, isn't there something that really just makes you
angry and upset?"
Q: Libertarian is a word that comes up a lot in the book. Do you
think, based on the middle-class mindset, that there's the potential for
libertarianism to gain strength as a political force?
A: Well, for the past 20 or 30 years, the conservatives have had
a libertarian economic program -- "get government out of business" -- but when
it comes to morality they want to regulate people. Whereas on the left -- you
know, on issues like abortion or gay rights, liberals say, "Government, stay
out! These are moral issues, these are private issues." But economically, the
left wants to regulate businesses.
Most people don't think that way; they tend to be economic and moral
libertarians at the same time. Some of the people I talked to who had what
sounded like very left-wing views -- very pro-feminist, very pro-gay -- were
also total Newt Gingrich Republicans, because they were very probusiness as
well. I think the political fallout on the right will be that you'll eventually
get a kind of alliance between the moral and economic libertarians on one side,
and the conservatives and liberals who believe in government on the other
side.
Q: You encourage people to question polls, but your own sample is
very small. Why should we believe you?
A: Good question. I rely on polls a lot in the book, but I think
it's not a question of believing any one thing. I think it's more of a question
of adding [information]. We need to consider my survey plus something else, as
opposed to one or the other.
Q: What about the fact that people tend to lie to
pollsters?
A: Well, we know they sometimes do, but not that much. I think
people are more likely to lie about their beliefs to someone they already know
than to a stranger who's asking them questions. They're not as interested in
making a certain impression when it's someone they don't know. We also have to
have some faith that people are willing to say what they mean.
We used what's called a confrontational methodology. We essentially were
having conversations with people in their living rooms. Unlike in traditional
polling, we'd challenge them directly, almost as lawyers do in court. If they
said one thing here and another thing there, we'd say, "Wait a minute, isn't
that contradictory?" We'd try to delve beneath the first thing they said and
determine what they really meant. The result is much more qualitative [than a
typical survey].
Q: You isolated homosexuality as the one thing middle-class
Americans don't tolerate. Do you think that will change?
A: I can't predict. To this day, I have no idea whether people's
unwillingness to extend their tolerance and their nonjudgmentalism to
homosexuality will just fade away.
I mean, there was a time only 30 years ago when people were opposed to
interracial marriage, and that's faded away. Now it's considered a good thing.
Maybe someday people will say there's so much divorce that any kind of marriage
is good, and the opposition to gay marriage -- which is pretty strong in the
polls and in my book -- will dissipate.
On the other hand, for some people I talked to, [opposition to homosexuality]
was as profound a conviction as you could have. God said, "Be fruitful and
multiply." They used words like abomination. They really hate this. I
can't tell which way it's going to go. It could go either way.
Q: What surprised you most in your research?
A: I think the degree of religious tolerance. For a long time we
really were a Christian country, and the understanding was that religion played
a role as being the source of moral certainty. Any society needs a common
morality, and the idea was that Christianity provided that common morality.
Christianity's not the sole religion anymore, yet morality still exists. I
think we've seen that religion is only one source of morality, that there are
others as well. This is an interesting piece of news because it means that we
do live together with great religious diversity, and that's really quite
remarkable. Most countries haven't figured out how to do that.
Q: What surprised you the most when you surveyed Brookline and
Medford?
A: I guess what surprised me the most was that Boston wasn't
that different from other parts of the country. There were one or two issues
where Bostonians stood out -- they're much more liberal on immigration policies
and willing to accept immigrants, and more tolerant of homosexuality, than
people elsewhere in the country. But by and large, there's no huge difference
between the Boston suburbs, the Tulsa suburbs, the Atlanta suburbs, the
Southern California suburbs.
Q: What about the relationship between class and race? At one point,
you say that class makes more difference than race in the middle-class
suburbs.
A: I, of course, was looking only at middle-class people, but
what I discovered is that black middle-class people and white middle-class
people have more in common as middle-class people than they have divisions as
black and white. They do have divisions as black and white, but "middle class"
is a very broad concept that can override race. If I were looking at all
segments of American society, I'm sure I'd find that people are really divided
by class, that there's a gap between rich and poor.
Q: How is the attitude of the middle class affecting race
relations?
A: I think it's just important to understand that when people move to
the suburbs, it's not necessarily because they're fleeing black people who live
in the cities. The people who were most likely to see themselves as fleeing
from the problems of the cities were African-Americans, who were quite honest
about wanting to get away from the crime and the violence.
If we could stop talking about race in terms of left and right, stop saying
that all people on the left are well-intentioned and all people on the right
are racist, we'd be much more able to address our racial problems. There are
people of good will and ill will on both sides.
Q: What do you see as the future of the middle class?
A: Your guess is as good as mine. I have a much better sense of
where it's not going. It's not the doom-and-gloom scenario -- that
downsizing and globalization are just going to cause some awful return to
social Darwinism. People are too sensible for that. I think the reasonableness
of middle-class America is very important to emphasize. So I don't think
there's going to be a crisis of the middle class. I think the middle-class
lifestyle and values are pretty solidly entrenched. I think the real question
is whether anything positive can be built upon that.
Q: What would you want politicians to take away from your
work?
A: I really don't make any policy recommendations in the book. I
wanted it to be about politics but without discussing politics explicitly --
sort of what I call "above politics" or "below politics." But I do want
politicians to be aware that people are turned off by the wealth in politics.
It violates a middle-class ideal.
Q: What social class do you consider yourself?
A: I'm middle-class. Two careers, three children. If being
middle-class means having a certain amount of financial independence, but not
so much that you can afford luxuries, then I'm middle-class.
Q: You've said the cultural war is really being waged among
intellectuals. That certainly gives you an interesting perspective as a
middle-class citizen and an intellectual. What is that like for you?
A: It's almost like I lead two lives. I come back to Wellesley and
people don't know me as the writer for the New Republic; they know me as
the father of these three children, or someone who is at a school event. I
guess that provides a kind of balance in my own life. I study middle-class
morality in part because I try to practice it myself.
Alicia Potter is a freelance writer living in Boston.