The
new capitalist elite
Plutocrats wield power and
influence by virtue of their wealth. The ultra-free-market, globalised
capitalism of recent years has produced a new breed of super-rich
plutocrats. Wealth gives them influence, which gives them power, which
enhances their wealth. LYNN WALSH reviews a recent study of the
super-rich elite.
Plutocrats: The rise of the new global
super-rich and the fall of everyone else
By Chrystia Freeland, Published by Allen
Lane, 2012, £25
The immensely rich
industrialists and bankers of America’s late 19th century ‘gilded age’
were known as ‘robber barons’. The ‘plutocrats’, the subject of Chrystia
Freeland’s book, are the robber barons of today. They are the super-rich
elite, wielding massive economic power and exerting political influence
(buying votes, intensive lobbying) to protect their wealth. During the
free-market frenzy of recent years they have been celebrated by the
media as paragons of enterprise, with a more positive image than their
robber baron predecessors. But since the financial crash and the onset
of seemingly endless recession, there is a growing reaction against the
super-rich elite, which appropriates to the ‘1%’ of top wealth-holders.
Freeland is an accomplished
financial journalist and her aim is "to understand the changing shape of
the world economy by looking at those at the very top". Her book
provides ample and very interesting material for an analysis of the
plutocrats, though her conclusions are quite lame. Most of her material
relates to the period before the 2008 crash, but she adopts a more
critical tone, especially towards the financial plutocrats, when she
comes to the aftermath of the crisis.
The plutocrats are the
super-rich elite. They include the wealthiest 1% of the population,
though in the US, Britain and elsewhere the most powerful plutocrats are
a small fraction of the 1%. The plutocrats (as portrayed by Freeland)
are mostly nouveaux riches, not landlords or rentiers, who merely
collect a share of the profits. They are the ‘working rich’, gaining
most of their income from their salaries (though lucratively
supplemented by company shares which produce capital gains). In 1916 in
the US, the top 1% received 20% of their income from paid work; in 2004,
it was 60%, this dramatic change occurring since the 1970s. Through
salaries and share options the corporate bosses take a huge slice of the
profits of the companies they run.
The plutocrats are composed
of several groups. The biggest contingent is the corporate bosses (the
profit-seeking chief executive officers/CEOs and the heads of investment
banks and hedge funds). The ‘tech geeks’ are another group, the bosses
of the big technology companies (Intel, Microsoft, Google, etc).
Another group are the
‘rent-seekers’. These include the robber barons of the former Soviet
Union and eastern Europe, who used their political positions within the
old Stalinist regimes to grab state assets when the centrally planned
economies disintegrated after 1989. The richest among these grabbed the
oil, gas and metal reserves that were formerly controlled by the state.
A similar process took place in China. The notorious ‘princelings’, the
sons and daughters of top party/state officials, used their political
influence to grab land, purloin assets, and exploit privileged access to
credit in order to further their own wealth.
It is not only in former
Stalinist states that this occurred. Freeland shows that in India, too,
access to capital and key markets depends on influence among political
leaders – which has to be paid for through massive bribery. In Mexico,
the privatisation of telecoms made Carlos Slim one of the richest men in
the world (worth $53bn in 2009).
Freeland provides a composite
portrait of the typical plutocrat, who is male (there are very few
women), aggressively ambitious, born of middle-class or upper
middle-class parents, highly educated in ‘good schools’ (often with
scholarships or bursaries), highly educated in science, maths, or
engineering. The typical plutocrat graduated from a super-elite
university (US Ivy League or Stanford; in Britain, Oxbridge, UCL, etc).
Typically, the plutocrat achieves an income of $100,000 by age 35 – or
is probably not going to make it into the super elite.
Not surprisingly, the
plutocrats fervently believe in ultra-free-market economics. Some
finance right-wing think-tanks to promote their free-market ideology.
Some (for example Evgeny Lebedev, the Koch brothers) buy newspapers and
other media outlets. Plutocrats spend millions on lobbying politicians,
a system (especially in the US) of institutionalised corruption. They
believe that as super-smart, ‘working rich’ they deserve their
super-rich status. Some, however, feel the need to enhance their image
through philanthropy on a grand scale. Bill Gates is well known for
this, but in his educational and other charitable projects he promotes
capitalist managerial methods (for example, testing and
performance-related pay in education).
Some of the very richest
plutocrats, however, brazenly flaunt their wealth. They travel around in
private jets and yachts (complete with helicopters, mini-submarines,
etc). With their wives and girlfriends they support the thriving luxury
goods sector. They patronise elite restaurants, top lawyers, doctors,
haute couture, etc. They buy property in big international cities, like
London, where they receive privileged tax treatment.
The plutocrats are
undoubtedly cosmopolitan and highly mobile. But Freeland exaggerates
this point. While the plutocrats themselves may flit from place to
place, deal to deal and tax haven to tax haven, the big corporations,
mineral assets, food-producing lands, etc, from which their wealth is
ultimately derived, are still rooted within the framework of rival
nation states. The plutocrats surf the waves of globalisation, but it
would be a mistake to conclude from this that capitalism has overcome
its national limits.
The role of the CEO-superstars
During the last 30 years, the
chief executives of major corporations formed a prominent contingent of
the super-rich plutocrats. Until the crash, they were fêted by the media
as the heroes of the neo-liberal revolution, maximising ‘shareholder
value’ (that is, short-term profits). But after the onset of the ‘great
recession’, many investors began to see them as parasitic managers,
dedicated to maximising their own incomes, taking a lion’s share of
corporate profits at the expense of the majority of shareholders.
The top executives of
America’s big industrial corporations enjoyed considerable economic and
political prestige during the post-war upswing (1945-73). Many saw
themselves as capitalist civil servants, running their companies in the
wider interests of ‘socially responsible’ capitalism. Their strategy was
to reinvest profits in the long-term development of their productive
capacity. To buy industrial peace, they conceded historically high
levels of pay and benefits (health insurance, pensions, etc) to their
workers. Executive salaries, however, declined during this period as a
result of social pressures within corporations and a general compression
of income differentials.
In 1934-38 the median income
of the top quartile of CEOs was $813,000 (constant 1986 dollars); by
1974-86 it had fallen to $645,000. Even so, the average pay of CEOs of
S&P 500 companies was 25 times the average pay of production workers.
Yet, from the late 1970s, CEO pay soared to unprecedented heights,
opening up a huge differential. By 1990 CEO pay was 100 times average
workers’ pay, and by 1996 it was 210 times. (Jeff Madrick, Age of Greed
[2011], p327)
The dramatic change in the
role and remuneration of CEOs was part of the neo-liberal restructuring
of the US and other advanced capitalist countries that was unleashed
after 1980. With the broad decline of corporate profitability from the
late 1960s, investors – shareholders, particularly the institutional
investors such as insurance companies and mutual funds – were
increasingly dissatisfied with their returns. They no longer wanted
‘corporate lifers’ pursuing long-term investment strategies (and their
own corporate careers). They wanted immediate profits and the maximum
return to shareholders. Though Freeland does not refer to this term, the
neo-liberal doctrine involved is best defined as ‘shareholder value’.
(See: Lazonick & O’Sullivan, Maximising Shareholder Value, Economy and
Society, 29/1, February 2000)
The old corporate approach of
‘retain (profits) and reinvest’ was replaced by ‘downsize and
distribute’ (to shareholders). The deep recession of 1980-81 saw massive
job losses and, with the acceleration of globalisation, the relentless
offshoring of manufacturing jobs. Successive waves of mergers and
acquisitions also resulted in the destruction of industrial capacity and
more job losses. The mergers were paid for by debt (mainly raised
through junk bonds), while the assets that were stripped out were sold
off – and the proceeds handed out to shareholders. Quarterly profits
and, above all, a company’s stock exchange capitalisation (the total
value of its shares), became the only criterion of success. During the
financial bubbles of the 1990s and after, the profits of many
corporations have frequently been bumped up (whether through creative
accounting or outright fraud) to boost their share prices.
How would the maximisation of
‘shareholder value’ be guaranteed? Through giving CEOs huge incentives,
not only fabulous salaries but, especially, their company’s shares or
options to buy shares. This gave them a personal stake in the success of
the company – as measured by its share price. CEOs were no longer
corporate lifers. They became the ‘agents’ of the shareholders, in
practice the investment bankers, fund managers, and hedge fund bosses
who dominate financial markets. The pay levels of CEOs are far higher
than other senior executives. On average, moreover, CEOs stay in their
jobs only about three or four years before they move on or are sacked.
There is, in effect, a market for CEOs, with competitive bidding for the
candidate who will be the most ruthless in cost cutting, job slashing
and boosting profits. This process dramatically raised the pay packages
of CEOs.
Shareholders did well. The
increases in stock market capitalisation paralleled the increase in CEO
compensation packages. But, under the impact of the financial crisis and
economic downturn from the end of 2007, shareholders – particularly the
pension funds and insurance companies – have begun to gripe about the
growing share of corporate profits taken by the top executives. In 1993
the average pay package of CEOs of Fortune 500 companies was $3.7
million; by 2006 it had risen to $9.1 million (Madrick, Age of Greed,
p328). "Between 2001 and 2003, public companies paid more than 10% of
their net income to their top five executives, up from less than 5%
eight years earlier". (Freeland, p135)
CEOs form a key contingent of
the plutocrats. Corporate executives (outside the financial sector)
constitute 31% of the top 1%, the biggest single group; they make up 42%
of the 0.1%.
During the surge of the
bubble economy, CEOs were seen as superstars, delivering ever higher
yields to shareholders while ruthlessly downsizing corporate America.
Millions of blue-collar workers lost well-paid manufacturing jobs, and
millions of salaried white-collar jobs have gone too. There has been a
shift to low-paid, part-time, insecure jobs in the service sector,
together with a rise in unemployment and workers dropping out of the
labour market altogether. The median household income has essentially
stagnated since 1980. In 2011, US median household income (inflation
adjusted) was 1.13% lower than in 1989. The huge rise in top executive
salaries does not merely reflect the process of polarisation of income
and wealth. The enrichment of CEOs is one of the drivers of the
polarisation, because CEOs are the agents of a process of polarisation.

The masters of technology
Successful ‘tech geeks’ (as
Freeland calls them) – like Bill Gates (Microsoft), Steve Jobs (Apple),
Larry Page (Google), Mark Zuckerberg (Facebook), etc – are prominent
among the plutocrats. Their hi-tech products, especially in the field of
information and communications technology (ICT), played a decisive part
in the sweeping social changes that have taken place since the 1980s.
Freeland reflects the general view that the technological advances are a
‘force for good’ (though they are a factor in the development of
inequality). In contrast to bankers, increasingly seen as greedy
villains, tech geeks are seen as secular saints, people who have earned
their billions on the merits of their achievements – true technocrats.
Freeland depicts them as
individualistic superstars. She refers to the role of California’s
Silicon Valley as the matrix of the hi-tech revolution. But she does not
examine the role of state-supported infrastructure in the development of
Silicon Valley. Many of the scientists and engineers, for instance, were
educated in California’s public university system. Much of the research
and development on the internet and associated ICT arose from
federal-government-funded research programmes and was originally
developed by the military-industrial complex.
Freeland does note that the
biggest beneficiaries of the Silicon Valley phenomenon have been Wall
Street financiers. But she skates over the fact that technology proved
very profitable for the tech entrepreneurs themselves. The successful
technology bosses – even if they started as lone inventors – were
completely interlinked with high finance from an early stage.
The tech firms depended for
their success on the availability of capital, mostly supplied by venture
capitalists. They financed R&D and initial marketing, and when the new
firms were up and running they were launched as public companies on the
stock exchange through IPOs (initial public offerings) of their shares.
In the heady boom atmosphere of 1997-2000, there was frenzied investment
in technology shares – anything associated with the internet, whether
proven successful or just a promise of infinite riches, became targets
of speculation.
There was a huge speculative
bubble in technology shares. The flood of cheap credit was used to
speculate in these shares, enormously pushing up their value. In the US,
technology stocks increased by 300% between 1997 and 2000; at the peak,
they accounted for 35% of total share capitalisation, up from 12% in
1997. This massive overvaluation inevitably led to the collapse of the
dotcom bubble at the end of 2000. (See: Carlotta Perez: The Double
Bubble, Cambridge Journal of Economics, 33/4, 2009)
There was another financial
bubble after 2001, again based on the growth of cheap credit (debt).
This bubble centred not so much on technology but on new forms of
derivatives, securitisation of debt (linked to the housing bubble), and
automated share trading – all of which was made possible by the new ICT.
Again the bubble inevitably led to a devastating financial crash at the
end of 2007.
Technological developments
cannot be separated from economic and social forces. While undoubtedly
having many positive applications, the new technology has been a key
force in the development of the polarisation of society. It facilitated
globalisation and has led to a polarisation in the advanced capitalist
countries between those (highly educated, technical workers) associated
with the hi-tech sector and those (blue and white collar workers) who
previously depended on the old ‘smokestack’ and production-line
industries that have been decimated by offshoring and new technology.
"Responding to revolution"
(rapid social changes), says Freeland, "is so central to Silicon Valley
culture that the most successful entrepreneurs have developed a culture
of continuous revolution". (p171) However, the new technology has come
into collision with economic and social barriers. There are certainly
many possible new applications for ICT, and developments in other
sectors (greater use of industrial robots, 3D printing, biological
sciences, laser technology, green energy production, etc). However, in a
capitalist economy, the weakness of demand, due to stagnating incomes
and massive income inequality, limits the extensive development of
technology – the broader diffusion of new technology throughout society.
This impasse is reflected in the intensive competition between
corporations like Microsoft, Apple, Google, Facebook, etc, for an
increasingly saturated market in electronic consumer goods (iPhones,
iPads, tablets, etc) and the various applications and ‘content’ that go
with these devices.
The new technology has been
highly profitable. This is shown by the increasing cash piles of US
technology companies. "Around $6 out of every $10 added to the corporate
sector’s cash mountain over the past three years has come from tech
companies… The overall pile reached a record $1.45 trillion at the end
of last year… Apple alone is likely to be sitting on $17 billion of cash
and liquid investments by the end of the year…" (Richard Waters, Tech
Groups Swell US Cash Pile, Financial Times, 18 March 2013) Clearly,
technological innovation does not automatically lead to growth and the
spread of prosperity.
A new class?
Do the plutocrats studied by
Freeland constitute a distinct social stratum? If so, how are they to be
characterised? Freeland argues that the new economic meritocrats and
scientific technocrats – many of them (even the gangster capitalists of
the former Stalinist states) highly educated engineers, scientists,
mathematicians, economists, etc – are a ‘new class’ contending for
‘class power’. They are challenging the established rentier capitalists
and increasingly using their wealth to exert political influence.
Unfortunately, Freeland’s
approach on this issue is superficial and confused. She draws on the
mistaken ideas of Milovan Djilas’s New Class (1957) and his disciples’
book, Intellectuals on the Road to Class Power (Gyorgy Konrad and Ivan
Szelenyi, 1979). They saw the ruling bureaucracy of the Stalinist states
as a class, a new bourgeoisie, rather than a privileged caste that had
usurped control by the working class and was presiding over the
non-capitalist planned economy.
Konrad and Szelenyi claimed
that technocrats (engineers, etc) were increasingly dominating the
bureaucracy (or ‘new class’) and seeking to increase their power. There
was a grain of truth in this. As the planned economies became more
complex a new generation of technocratic bureaucrats became more
important – reflected, for instance, in the Gorbachev wing of the
bureaucracy in the Soviet Union in the 1980s.
It is completely misguided,
not to say ludicrous, however, to apply this (false) ‘new class’
analysis to 21st century capitalism. For a start, the plutocrats – while
they are very wealthy – are not a coherent group, as Freeland herself
shows. In Russia, eastern Europe and China, gangster capitalists and
profit-seeking ‘princelings’, Freeland’s ‘rent-seekers’, are capitalist
classes in the process of formation (though the state remains a powerful
economic power, especially in China).
In the US and other advanced
capitalist countries the plutocrats, notably the financiers, CEOs and
technology bosses, form an emergent faction of the capitalist class. Not
necessarily from traditional bourgeois families, they have made huge
fortunes and have come to the forefront on the basis of new trends
within capitalism: neo-liberal economics, financialisation,
globalisation, new technology. Undoubtedly, the plutocrats will be
assimilated into the bourgeoisie and, as Freeland acknowledges, the
nouveaux riches will strive to pass on as much of their privileges
(access to elite universities) and wealth as possible to their
offspring.
Some of the plutocrats,
moreover, will attempt to exert more political power. Michael Bloomberg,
for instance, a mega-rich financier and undoubtedly a plutocrat, has
been mayor of New York since 2002. In 2008 many Wall Street financiers
backed Barack Obama as a reaction to the disastrous adventures of the
Bush-era Republican government. In 2012 they swung overwhelmingly to
Mitt Romney – to block tax increases and tighter financial regulation.
Freeland refers to the plutocrats’ propensity to buy political influence
through (now virtually unrestricted) campaign donations. But, although
she refers to the ‘road to class power’, she makes no attempt to examine
the plutocrats’ connections with ruling political elites, the elements
of the capitalist class who actually wield power through the mechanisms
of government and the state.

What is to be done?
Freeland has produced an
illuminating portrait of the super-rich elite. Whatever her intention,
she provides ample material for a devastating indictment of the system
which has produced it. But what is her standpoint? She often seems
ambivalent, mixing admiration for the ‘superheroes’ with criticism – not
so much of the fabulous wealth and luxurious lifestyles of the
plutocrats but of their arrogant blindness to the consequences of their
unrestrained pursuit of riches. She is not out to allocate blame, she
says. No doubt, Freeland, who needs to talk to the plutocrats in the
course of her work as a financial journalist, wants to maintain a
certain ‘neutrality’.
Her starting point, she says,
is that "we need capitalists because we need capitalism – it being, like
democracy, the best system we have figured out so far". Western
capitalism, through repeated "creative destruction" and the absorption
of new technology, "competition from new entrants", and "an ever more
inclusive economic and political order", has resulted in the "most
rigorous era of economic progress in human history". "Pretty much the
whole world [believes in capitalism]". "Global capitalism, however, was
not supposed to work quite this way". Freeland is referring to the
extreme polarisation of wealth rather than the disastrous financial
crash and economic slump after 2008.
Until recently, she says,
proponents of capitalism believed that "in the fully industrialised or
post-industrial societies, income inequality would again decrease as
education became more widespread and the state played a bigger, more
distributive role". This seemed to be borne out during the post-war
upswing. On the basis of historically high growth, and the extension of
New Deal welfare provision, there was the phenomenon known as the ‘great
compression’, with the marked reduction of inequality in the US and
other advanced capitalist countries. US leaders boasted of the country’s
vast ‘middle class’, a broad spectrum that embraced the working class
and large sections of salaried, white-collar workers, professional
workers, and small business-people (and obscured the identity and role
of the proletariat).
Freeland does not analyse the
international and domestic class relations that produced that situation.
However, she does mention in passing that "the fear of communist
revolution was a powerful motivation for reform… It was better to give
the working class an effective political voice, and social safety net,
than to risk having their Bolshevik vanguard seize power altogether".
With the collapse of ‘communism’ – China’s turn towards the market, the
implosion of the Stalinist states of the USSR, eastern Europe, etc – and
the disintegration of the domestic social-democratic/reformist leaders,
this pressure no longer existed. Seizing the opportunities opened up by
financialisation and globalisation, the capitalist elite set out to
concentrate as much wealth as possible into its own hands.
The plutocrats used their
increasing political influence – bought through campaign funding – to
reinforce the economic changes with a new political framework based on
the deregulation of financial markets, privatisation of public
companies, lower taxes on wealth and weak unions (enforced by state
coercion). There was also the pressure of unemployment and the threat of
the offshoring of jobs, and depressed wage levels.
Some capitalist strategists
recognise the potential danger to their system posed by the extreme
polarisation of wealth. However, when the Occupy movement began, its
participants were treated to incredible tirades of abuse from prominent
finance-plutocrats: they were "just a bunch of welfare bums". However,
Paul Martin, a former Canadian prime minister and multi-millionaire
businessman, recognised that "Occupy Wall Street has hit a chord that
really is touching the middle class… right around the world".
Another member of the super
elite, the financier Mohamed El-Erian, commented in June 2010 that "no
nation can tolerate for long excesses in income and wealth inequalities
as they tear at the fabric of society. Think of this simple analogy –
that of an increasingly fancy house in a poor and deteriorating
neighbourhood. The wellbeing of the house cannot be divorced from that
of the neighbourhood as a whole". Yet most of the economic elite
continue to volubly "conflate their own self-interest with the interests
of society as a whole". Ever more blinkered, the plutocrats inhabit a
mental "global gated community". One less blinkered big-businessman
lamented that it would even be an advance for the elite to adopt
"long-term greed" as opposed to "short-term greed" (287).
Yet the Republican candidate
in the 2012 presidential election, Romney, a private-equity plutocrat,
campaigned for cutting the benefits of the 47% who he claims depend on
benefits, slashing the taxes of the rich, and fighting off all attempts
to strengthen the regulation of the finance sector.
So, what is to be done?
Freeland evokes the ideas of Henry George, a prominent populist who
denounced the ‘robber barons’ of the 1880s and 1890s. He referred to the
‘great enigma’ of the association of progress (the prodigious increase
in producing power) with poverty (depression and mass unemployment).
George’s description of the contrast between poverty and progress
certainly resonates today. George appeals to Freeland because he
"denounced the obvious iniquity of 19th century American capitalism
without disavowing capitalism itself". (p42) George concentrated his
fire on landlords and their allies, the railway bosses, the mine owners,
bankers, rentiers, etc. He supported ‘productive’ capitalists,
especially farmers and small businesses. His solution was a return to
‘Jeffersonian democracy’ (an idealised picture of the popular democracy
of the early American republic) to tame the robber barons. This is
essentially Freeland’s prescription for today: what is needed are "right
rules and policing able to enforce them". This implies separating the
bad guys, the rent-seeking plutocrats, from the good guys, the
value-creating plutocrats – which Freeland herself admits is an
impossible task!
This is a plea from Freeland
for a return to the ‘golden age’ conditions of the post-war upswing,
when prosperity was spread across broad layers of the ‘middle class’.
But this is nowhere near a programme for change; it is a pious wish, not
at all based on the real social forces operating in US society (and
other advanced capitalist countries), despite the fact that Freeland
herself shows that the plutocrats are the product of profound social
changes. In the last three decades capitalism has swung further and
further away from the New-Deal or social-democratic model of the
post-war upswing. The capitalist class and its ruling, political elite,
under the pressure of financial markets, have not only prescribed
free-market policies everywhere but vetoed any sustained turn to social
spending.
In the event of explosive
social movements which threaten the system, capitalist governments will
turn towards Keynesian measures (as they did with short-term stimulus
packages in 2009-10), with some concessions to the working class. But
they will be temporary, stop-gap measures. The conditions do not exist
for a return to the kind of upswing that took place after the second
world war or to the social programmes that accompanied economic growth.
Freeland believes that
capitalism is "the best system so far". But it has landed the world
economy in the deepest crisis since the interwar period. Moreover, the
prospects are bleak – we most likely face a prolonged period of
depression.
Freeland nowhere refers to
the role of the working class as a social force for change. True,
reflecting on history, she refers to the threat of revolution as the
spur to reform. She also refers to some of the strategists of capitalism
fearing social/political upheaval. But she offers no perspective for
change.
Freeland refers to Marxism as
the first coherent ideology of class warfare (p114) but lightly
dismisses Karl Marx as wrong about capitalism preparing its own
destruction. But hasn’t Marx been shown to be right about trends in
contemporary capitalism? The stark polarisation of wealth, the
acceleration and globalisation of the economy, the contradictory effects
of technology, the impoverishment of huge sections of the working class
and labouring poor?
Marx will also be proved
correct about the inevitability of massive upheavals. Recent general
strikes and mass protests in Europe and elsewhere are a prelude to
bigger struggles to come. The working class will reassert its role as a
force for social change.
There is no alternative to
the existing polarisation within the framework of capitalism. It raises
the need for the common ownership of the means of production, for
planned production, and for democratic administration of the economy on
a national and international basis. Accepting that capitalism is here to
stay, as Freeland does, without any conception of another form of
society, she finds it impossible to come up with any effective way of
ending the rapacious reign of the plutocrats.
The rich and the super-rich
"In 2005, Bill Gates was
worth $46.5 billion and Warren Buffett $44 billion. That year, the
combined wealth of the 120 million people who made up the bottom 40%
of the US population was around $95 billion – barely more than the
sum of the fortunes of these two men". Chyrstia Freeland provides
plenty of data on the wealth of the super-rich.
At the height of the
boom, a New York socialite tells her: "You had people in their 30s,
through hedge funds and Goldman Sachs partner jobs, people who were
making 20, 30, 40 million a year. And there were a lot of them doing
it".
Freeland shows how the
wealth gap narrowed following the great depression of the 1930s, but
began to explode in the 1980s. "In the 1970s, the top 1% of earners
captured about 10% of the national income. Thirty-five years later,
their share had risen to nearly a third of the national income".
Most of the figures she
gives are for the United States, but similar trends have occurred in
Britain and Europe. In developing countries like China, Russia,
India and Brazil, the 1% has also dramatically outpaced the vast
majority in income and wealth. "In 1980, the average US CEO made 42
times as much as the average worker. By 2012, the ratio had
skyrocketed to 380".
During the second world
war and the post-war upswing the top 10% took around 33% of income.
But since then their share has climbed dramatically. "By 2006, the
top 10% earned 50% of national income, even more than it did in
1928, at the height of the roaring twenties".
The biggest shift,
however, is within the top 10%. "Almost all the gains are at the
very apex of the distribution: during the economic expansion of 2002
to 2006, three quarters of all income growth in the United States
went to the top 1% of the population". There is, in other words, a
growing gap between the rich and the super-rich. "Here’s how that
translated into US average family income in 2010… Families in the
top 0.01% made $23,846,950; that dropped sharply to $2,802,020 for
those in the top 0.1-0.01%. Those in the top 1% made $1,019,098;
those in the top 10% made $246,934. Meanwhile, the bottom 90% made
an average $29,840".
If anyone is to blame for
triggering the crash of 2008, isn’t it the super-rich bankers and
financiers? Yet, in contrast to the 1930s, they have not really
suffered. "In the 2009-2010 recovery, 93% of the gains were captured
by the top 1%. The plutocrats did even better than the merely
affluent – 37% of these gains went to the top 0.01%, the 15,000
Americans with average incomes of $23.8 million. Another example: in
2009, the country’s top 25 hedge fund managers earned an average of
more than $1 billion each – or more than they had made in 2007, the
previous record year".