The planning and politics of conversion: World War II lessons for a Green New Deal—Part 1

This is the first in a series of posts that aim to describe and evaluate the World War II mobilization experience in the United States in order to illuminate some of the economic and political challenges we can expect to face as we work for a Green New Deal.  

This post highlights the successful government directed wartime reorientation of the U.S. economy from civilian to military production, an achievement that both demonstrates the feasibility of a rapid Green New Deal transformation of the U.S. economy and points to the kinds of organizational capacities we will need to develop. The post also highlights some of the strategies employed by big business to successfully stamp the wartime transformation as a victory for “market freedom,” an outcome that strengthened capital’s ability to dominate the postwar U.S. political economy and suggests the kind of political struggles we can expect and will need to overcome as we work to achieve a just Green New Deal transformation.

The climate challenge and the Green New Deal

We are hurtling towards a climate catastrophe.  The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, in its Special Report on Global Warming of 1.5°C, warns that we must limit the increase in the global mean temperature to 1.5 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels by 2100 if we hope to avoid a future with ever worsening climate disasters and “global scale degradation and loss of ecosystems and biodiversity.”  And, it concludes, to achieve that goal global net carbon dioxide emissions must fall by 45 per cent by 2030 and reach net zero emissions by 2050.

Tragically, none of the major carbon dioxide emitting nations has been willing to pursue the system-wide changes necessary to halt the rise in the global mean temperature.  Rather than falling, carbon dioxide emissions rose over the decade ending in 2019.  Only a major crisis, in the current case a pandemic, appears able to reverse the rise in emissions.   

Early estimates are that the COVID-19 pandemic will cause a fall in global emissions of somewhere between 4 and 7 percent in 2020.  But the decline will likely be temporary.  For example, the International Monetary Fund is forecasting an emission rise of 5.8 percent in 2021. This bounce back is in line with what happened after the 2008-09 Great Recession.  After falling by 1.4 percent in 2009, global emissions grew by 5.1 percent in 2010.

Motivated by signs of the emerging climate crisis—extreme weather conditions, droughts, floods, warming oceans, rising sea levels, fires, ocean acidification, and soil deterioration—activists in the United States have worked to build a movement that joins climate and social justice activists around a call for a Green New Deal to tackle both global warming and the country’s worsening economic and social problems. The Green Party has promoted its ecosocialist Green New Deal since 2006, but it was the 2018 mass actions by new climate action groups such as Extreme Rebellion and the Sunrise Movement and then the 2019 introduction of a Green New Deal congressional resolution by Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Senator Edward Markey that helped popularize the idea.

The Ocasio-Cortez—Markey resolution, echoing the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, calls for a ten-year national program of mobilization designed to cut CO2 emissions by 40-60 percent from 2010 levels by 2030 and achieve net-zero emissions by 2050.  Its program includes policies that aim at replacing fossil fuels with clean, renewable sources of energy, and existing forms of transportation, agriculture, and urban development with new affordable and sustainable ones; encouraging investment and the growth of clean manufacturing; and promoting good, high paying union jobs and universal access to clean air and water, health care, and healthy food.

While there are similarities, there are also important differences, between the Green Party’s Green New Deal and Ocasio-Cortez—Markey’s Green New Deal, including over the speed of change, the role of public ownership, and the use of fracking and nuclear power for energy generation.  More generally, there are also differences among supporters of a Green New Deal style transformation over whether the needed government investments and proposed social policies should be financed by raising taxes, slashing the military budget, borrowing, or money creation.  There are also environmentalists who oppose the notion of sustained but sustainable growth explicitly embraced by many Green New Deal supporters and argue instead for a policy of degrowth, or a “Green New Deal without growth.”

These arguments are important, representing different political sensibilities and visions, and need to be taken seriously.  But what has largely escaped discussion is any detailed consideration of the actual process of economic transformation required by any serious Green New Deal program.  Here are some examples of the kind of issues we will need to confront:

Fossil fuel production has to be ratcheted down, which will dramatically raise fossil fuel prices.  The higher cost of fossil fuels will significantly raise the cost of business for many industries, especially air travel, tourism, and the aerospace and automobile industries, triggering significant declines in demand for their respective goods and services and reductions in their output and employment.  We will need to develop a mechanism that will allow us to humanely and efficiently repurpose newly created surplus facilities and provide alternative employment for released workers.

New industries, especially those involved in the production of renewable energy will have to be rapidly developed.  We will need to develop agencies capable of deciding the speed of their expansion as well as who will own the new facilities, how they will be financed, and how best to ensure that the materials required by these industries will be produced in sufficient quantities and made available at the appropriate time. We will also have to develop mechanisms for deciding where the new industries will be located and how to develop the necessary social infrastructure to house and care for the new workforce.  

The list goes on—we will need to ensure the rapid and smooth expansion of facilities capable of producing electric cars, mass transit vehicles, and a revitalized national rail system.  We will need to organize the retrofitting of existing buildings, both office and residential, as well as the training of workers and the production of required equipment and materials.  The development of a new universal health care system will also require the planning and construction of new clinics and the development of new technologies and health practices. 

The challenges sound overwhelming, especially given the required short time frame for change.  But, reassuringly, the U.S. government faced remarkable similar challenges during the war years when, in approximately three years, it successfully converted the U.S. economy from civilian to military production. This experience points to the importance of studying the World War II planning process for lessons and should give us confidence that we can successfully carry out our own Green New Deal conversion in a timely fashion.

World War II economic mobilization

The name Green New Deal calls to mind the New Deal of the 1930s, which is best understood as a collection of largely unrelated initiatives designed to promote employment and boost a depressed economy.  In contrast, the Green New Deal aims at an integrated transformation of a “functioning” economy, which is a task much closer to the World War II transformation of the U.S. economy. That transformation required the repression of civilian production, much like the Green New Deal will require repression of the fossil fuel industry and those industries dependent on it.  Simultaneously, it also required the rapid expansion of military production, including the creation of entirely new products like synthetic rubber and weapon systems, much like the Green New Deal will require expansion of new forms of renewable energy, transportation, and social programs.  And it also required the process of conversion to take place quickly, much like what is required under the Green New Deal. 

J.W. Mason and Andrew Bossie highlight the contemporary relevance of the wartime experience by pointing out:

Just as in today’s public-health and climate crises, the goal of wartime economic management was not to raise GDP in the abstract, but to drastically raise production of specific kinds of goods, many of which had hardly figured in the prewar economy. Then as now, this rapid reorganization of the economy required a massive expansion of public spending, on a scale that had hardly been contemplated before the emergency. And then as, potentially, now, this massive expansion of public spending, while aimed at the immediate non-economic goal, had a decisive impact on long-standing economic problems of stagnation and inequality. Of course, there are many important differences between the two periods. But the similarities are sufficient to make it worth looking to the 1940s for economic lessons for today.

Before studying the organization, practice, and evolution of the World War II era planning system, it is useful to have an overall picture of the extent, speed, and success of the economy’s transformation. The following two charts highlight the dominant role played by the government.  The first shows the dramatic growth and reorientation in government spending beginning in 1941.  As we can see federal government war expenditures soared, while non-war expenditures actually fell in value.  Military spending as a share of GNP rose from 2.2 percent in 1940, to 11 percent in 1941, and to 31.2 percent in 1942.

The second shows that the expansion in plant and equipment required to produce the goods and services needed to fight the war was largely financed by the government.  Private investment actually fell in value over the war years.

Source: U.S. Bureau of the Budget, The United States at War, Development and Administration of the War Program by the Federal Government, Washington DC: The U.S. Government Printing Office, 1947, p. 92.

Source: U.S. Bureau of the Budget, The United States at War, Development and Administration of the War Program by the Federal Government, Washington DC: The U.S. Government Printing Office, 1947, p. 115.

The next chart illustrates the speed and extent of the reorientation of industrial production over the period 1941-1944.  As we can see, while industrial production aimed at military needs soared, non-military industrial production significantly declined.

Source: U.S. Bureau of the Budget, The United States at War, Development and Administration of the War Program by the Federal Government, Washington DC: The U.S. Government Printing Office, 1947, p. 104.

The next two charts illustrate the success of the conversion process.  The first shows the rapid increase in the production of a variety of military weapons and equipment.  The second demonstrates why the United States was called the “Arsenal of democracy”; it produced the majority of all the munitions produced during World War II.

Source: U.S. Bureau of the Budget, The United States at War, Development and Administration of the War Program by the Federal Government, Washington DC: The U.S. Government Printing Office, 1947, p. 319

Source: U.S. Bureau of the Budget, The United States at War, Development and Administration of the War Program by the Federal Government, Washington DC: The U.S. Government Printing Office, 1947, p. 507.

Significantly, while the rapid growth in military related production did boost the overall growth of the economy, because it was largely achieved at the expense of nonmilitary production, the economy’s overall growth over the years 1941-44/45, was far from extraordinary.  For example, the table below compares the growth in real gross nonfarm product over the early years of the 1920’s to that of the early years of the 1940’s.  As we can see, there is little difference between the two periods, and that holds true even if we exclude the last year of the war, when military spending plateaued and military production began to decline.  The same holds true when comparing just the growth in industrial production over the two periods.

Years                   Growth in real gross nonfarm product                                              

1921-2528.4%
1941-4524.6%
  
1921-2426.2%
1941-4425.8%
Source: Harold G. Vatter, The U.S. Economy in World War II, New York: Columbia University Press, 1985, p. 22.

This similarity between the two periods reinforces the point that the economic success of the war years, the rapid ramping up of military production, was primarily due to the ability of government mobilization agencies to direct an economic conversion that privileged the production of goods and services for the military at the expense of non-military goods and services.  This experience certainly lends credibility to those who seek a similar system-wide conversion to achieve a Green New Deal transformation of the U.S. economy.

Such a transformation is not without sacrifice.  For example, workers did pay a cost for the resulting suppression of civilian oriented production, but it was limited.  As Harold Vatter points out: “There were large and real absolute decreases in total consumer expenditures between 1941 and 1945 on some items considered important in ordinary times.  Prominent among these, in the durable goods category, were major home appliances, new cars, and net purchases of used cars, furniture, and radio and TV sets.”

At the same time there were real gains for workers.  Overall personal consumption which rose in both 1940 and 1941, declined absolutely in 1942, but then began a slow and steady increase, with total personal consumption higher in 1945 than in 1941.  However, this record understates the real gains.  The U.S. civilian population declined from 131.6 million in 1941 to 126.7 million in 1944.  Thus, the gain in personal consumption on a per capita basis was significant.  As Vatter notes, “real employee compensation per private employee in nonfarm establishments rose steadily ever year, and in 1945 was over one-fifth above the 1941 level. . . . More broadly, similar results show up for the index of real disposable personal income per capita, which increased well over one-fourth during the same war years.”  Of course, these gains were largely the result of more people working and for longer hours; it was definitely earned.  Also important is the fact that pretax family income rose faster for those at the bottom of the income distribution than for those at the top, helping to reduce overall income inequality. 

In sum, there are good reasons for those seeking to implement a Green New Deal style transformation of the U.S. economy to use the World War II planning experience as a template.  A careful study of that experience can alert us to the kinds of organizational and institutional capacities we will need to develop.  And, it is important to add, it can also alert us to the kinds of political challenges we can expect to face.

Planning and politics

The success of the U.S. economy’s World War II transformation was due, in large part, to the work of a series of changing and overlapping mobilization agencies that President Roosevelt established by executive order and then replaced or modified as new political and economic challenges emerged. Roosevelt took his first meaningful action to help prepare the United States economy for war in May 1940, when he reactivated the World War 1-era National Defense Advisory Commission (NDAC).  The NDAC was replaced by the Office of Production Management (OPM) in December 1940.  The Supply Priorities and Allocation Board (SPAB) was then created in August 1941 to develop a needed longer-term planning orientation to guide the work of the OPM.  And finally, both the OPM and the SPAB were replaced by the War Production Board (WPB) in January 1942.  With each change, decision-making became more centralized, planning responsibilities expanded, and authority to direct economic activity strengthened.

The work of these agencies was greatly enhanced by a number of other initiatives, one of the most important being the August 1940 establishment of the Defense Plant Corporation (DPC). The DPC was authorized to directly finance and own plant and equipment vital to the national defense. The DPC ended up financing and owning roughly one-third of the plant and equipment built during the war, most of which was leased to private companies to operate for a minimal amount, often $1 a year. The aircraft industry was the main beneficiary of DPC investment, but plants were also built to produce synthetic rubber, ships, machine tools, iron and steel, magnesium, and aluminum.

Despite its successful outcome, the process of economic conversion was far from smooth and the main reason was resistance by capitalists.  Still distrustful of New Deal reformers, most business leaders were critical of any serious attempt at prewar planning that involved strengthening government regulation and oversight of their respective activities.  Rather, they preferred to continue their existing practice of individually negotiating contracts with Army and Navy procurement agencies.  Many also opposed prewar government entreaties to expand their scale of operations to meet the military’s growing demand for munitions and equipment.  Their reasons were many: they were reluctant to expand capacity after a decade of depression; civilian markets were growing rapidly and highly profitable; and the course of the war, and the U.S. participation in it, remained uncertain.

Their attitude and power greatly influenced the operation and policies of the NDAC, which was built on industry divisions run by industry leaders, most of whom were so-called “dollar-a-year men” who continued to draw their full salaries from the corporations that employed them, and advised by industry associations.  This business-friendly structure, with various modifications, was then transferred to the OPM and later the WPB.

With business interests well represented in the prewar mobilization agencies, the government struggled to transform the economy in preparation for war.  The lack of new business investment in critical industries meant that by mid-1941 material shortages began forcing delays in defense orders; aluminum, magnesium, zinc, steel, and machine tools were all growing scare.  At the same time, a number of industries that were major consumers of these scare materials and machinery, such as the automobile industry, also resisted government efforts to get them to abandon their consumer markets and convert to the production of needed military goods.

In some cases, this resistance lasted deep into the war years, with some firms objecting not only to undertaking their own expansion but to any government financed expansion as well, out of fear of post-war overproduction and/or loss of market share.  The resulting political tension is captured by the following exchange at a February 1943 Congressional hearing between Senator E. H. Moore of Oklahoma and Interior Secretary and Petroleum Administrator for War Harold L. Ickes over the construction of a petroleum pipeline from Texas to the East Coast:

Secretary Ickes. I would like to say one thing, however. I think there are certain gentlemen in the oil industry who are thinking of the competitive position after the war.

The Chairman. That is what we are afraid of, Mr. Secretary.

Secretary Ickes. That’s all right. I am not doing that kind of thinking.

The Chairman. I know you are not.

Secretary Ickes. I am thinking of how best to win this war with the least possible amount of casualties and in the quickest time.

Senator Moore. Regardless, Mr. Secretary, of what the effect would be after the war? Are you not concerned with that?

Secretary Ickes. Absolutely.

Senator Moore. Are you not concerned with the economic situation with regard to existing conditions after the war?

Secretary Ickes. Terribly. But there won’t be any economic situation to worry about if we don’t win the war.

Senator Moore. We are going to win the war.

Secretary Ickes. We haven’t won it yet.

Senator Moore. Can’t we also, while we are winning the war, look beyond the war to see what the situation will be with reference to –

Secretary Ickes (interposing). That is what the automobile industry tried to do, Senator. It wouldn’t convert because it was more interested in what would happen after the war. That is what the steel industry did, Senator, when it said we didn’t need any more steel capacity, and we are paying the price now. If decisions are left with me, it is only fair to say that I will not take into account any post-war factor—but it can be taken out of my hands if those considerations are paid attention to.

Once the war began, many businesses were also able to build a strategic alliance with the military that allowed them to roll back past worker gains and isolate and weaken unions.  For example, by invoking the military’s overriding concern with achieving maximum production of the weapons of war, business leaders were able to defeat union attempts to legislate against the awarding of military contracts to firms in violation of labor law. They also succeeded in ignoring overtime pay requirements when lengthening the workweek and in imposing new workplace rules that strengthened management prerogatives. 

If unions struck to demand higher wages or resist unilateral workplace changes, business and military leaders would declare their actions a threat to the wartime effort, which cost them public support. Often the striking unions were threatened with government sanctions by mobilization authorities.  In some cases, especially when it came to the aircraft industry, the military actually seized control of plants, sending in troops with fixed bayonets, to break a strike.  Eventually, the CIO traded a no-strike pledge for a maintenance of membership agreement, but that often put national union officials in the position of suppressing rank-and-file job actions and disciplining local leaders and activists, an outcome which weakened worker support for the union.

Business didn’t always have its own way.  Its importance as essential producer was, during the war, matched by the military’s role as essential demander.  And, while the two usually saw eye-to-eye, there were times when military interests diverged from, and dominated, corporate interests.  Moreover, as the war continued, government planning agencies gained new powers that enabled them to effectively regulate the activities of both business and the military.  Finally, the work of congressional committees engaged in oversight of the planning process as well as pressure from unions and small business associations also helped, depending on the issue, to place limits on corporate prerogatives.

Still, when all was said and done, corporate leaders proved remarkably successful in dominating the mobilization process and strengthening their post-war authority over both the government and organized labor.  Perhaps the main reason for their success is that almost from the beginning of the mobilization process, a number of influential business leaders and associations aggressively organized themselves to fight their own two-front war—one that involved boosting production to help the United States defeat the Axis powers and one that involved winning popular identification of the fight for democracy with corporate freedom of action.

In terms of this second front, as J.W. Mason describes:

Already by 1941, government enterprise was, according to a Chamber of Com­merce publication, “the ghost that stalks at every business conference.” J. Howard Pew of Sun Oil declared that if the United States abandoned private ownership and “supinely reli[es] on government control and operation, then Hitlerism wins even though Hitler himself be defeated.” Even the largest recipients of military contracts regarded the wartime state with hostility. GM chairman Alfred Sloan—referring to the danger of government enterprises operating after war—wondered if it is “not as essential to win the peace, in an eco­nomic sense, as it is to win the war, in a military sense,” while GE’s Philip Reed vowed to “oppose any project or program that will weaken” free enterprise.

Throughout the war, business leaders and associations “flooded the public sphere with descriptions of the mobilization effort in which for-profit companies figured as the heroic engineers of a production ‘miracle’.”  For example, Boeing spent nearly a million dollars a year on print advertising in 1943-45, almost as much as it set aside for research and development.

The National Association of Manufactures (NAM) was one of the most active promoters of the idea that it was business, not government, that was winning the war against state totalitarianism.  It did so by funding a steady stream of films, books, tours, and speeches.  Mark R. Wilson describes one of its initiatives:

One of the NAM’s major public-relations projects for 1942, which built upon its efforts in radio and print media, was its “Production for Victory” tour, designed to show that “industry is making the utmost contributions toward victory.” Starting the first week in May, the NAM paid for twenty newspaper reporters to take a twenty-four-day, fifteen-state trip during which they visited sixty-four major defense plants run by fifty-eight private companies. For most of May, newspapers across the country ran daily articles related to the tour, written by the papers’ own reporters or by one of the wire services. The articles’ headlines included “Army Gets Rubber Thanks to Akron,” “General Motors Plants Turning Out Huge Volume of War Goods,” “Baldwin Ups Tank Output,” and “American Industry Overcomes a Start of 7 Years by Axis.”

It was rarely if ever mentioned by the companies or the reporters that almost all of these new plants were actually financed, built, and owned by the government, or that it was thanks to government planning efforts that these companies had well-trained workers and received needed materials on a timely basis.  Perhaps not surprisingly, government and union efforts to challenge the corporate story were never as well funded, sustained, or shaped by as clear a class perspective.  As a consequence, they were far less effective.

Paul A.C. Koistinen, in his major study of World War II planning, quotes Hebert Emmerich, past Secretary of the Office of Production Management (OPM), who looking back at the mobilization experience in 1956 commented that “When big business realized it had lost the elections of 1932 and 1936, it tried to come in through the back door, first through the NRA and then through the NDAC and OPM and WPB.”  Its success allowed it to emerge from the war politically stronger than when it began.

Capital is clearly much more organized and powerful today than it was in the 1940s.  And we can safely assume that business leaders will draw upon all their many strengths in an effort to shape any future conversion process in ways likely to limit its transformative potential.  Capital’s wartime strategy points to some of the difficult challenges we must prepare to face, including how to minimize corporate dominance over the work of mobilization agencies and ensure that the process of transformation strengthens, rather than weakens, worker organization and power.  Most importantly, the wartime experience makes clear that the fight for a Green New Deal is best understood as a new front in an ongoing class war, and that we need to strengthen our own capacity to wage a serious and well-prepared ideological struggle for the society we want to create.

COVID-19 Economic Crisis Snapshot

 Workers in the United States are in the midst of a punishing COVID-19 economic crisis.  Unfortunately, while a new fiscal spending package and an effective vaccine can bring needed relief, a meaningful sustained economic recovery will require significant structural changes in the operation and orientation of the economy.

The unemployment problem

Many people blame government mandated closure orders for the decline in economic activity and spike in unemployment.  But the evidence points to widespread concerns about the virus as the driving force.  As Emily Badger and Alicia Parlapiano describe in a New York Times article, and as illustrated in the following graphic taken from the article:

In the weeks before states around the country issued lockdown orders this spring, Americans were already hunkering down. They were spending less, traveling less, dining out less. Small businesses were already cutting employment. Some were even closing shop.

People were behaving this way — effectively winding down the economy — before the government told them to. And that pattern, apparent in a range of data looking back over the past two months, suggests in the weeks ahead that official pronouncements will have limited power to open the economy back up.

As the graphic shows, economic activity nosedived around the same time regardless of whether state governments were quick to mandate closings, slow to mandate closings, or unwilling to issue stay-at-home orders.

The resulting sharp decline in economic activity caused unemployment to soar. Almost 21 million jobs were lost in April at the peak of the crisis.  The unemployment rate hit a high of 14.7 percent.  By comparison the highest unemployment rate during the Great Recession was 10.6 percent in January 2010.

Employment recovered the next month, with an increase of 2.8 million jobs in May.  In June, payrolls grew by an even greater number, 4.8 million.  But things have dramatically slowed since.  In July, only 1.8 million jobs came back.  In August it was 1.5 million.  And in September it was only 661,000.  To this point, only half of the jobs lost have returned, and current trends are far from encouraging.

The unemployment rate fell to 7.9 percent in September, a significant decline from April.  But a large reason for that decline is that millions of workers have given up working or looking for work and are no longer counted as being part of the labor force.  And, as Alisha Haridasani Gupta writes in the New York Times:

A majority of those dropping out were women. Of the 1.1 million people ages 20 and over who left the work force (neither working nor looking for work) between August and September, over 800,000 were women, according to an analysis by the National Women’s Law Center. That figure includes 324,000 Latinas and 58,000 Black women. For comparison, 216,000 men left the job market in the same time period.

The relationship between the fall in the unemployment rate and worker exodus from the labor market is illustrated in the next figure which shows both the unemployment rate and the labor force participation rate (LFPR), which is measured by dividing the number of people 16 and over who are employed or seeking employment by the size of the civilian noninstitutional population that is 16 and over.

The figure allows us to see that even the relatively “low” September unemployment rate of 7.9 percent is still high by historical standards.  It also allows us to see that its recent decline was aided by a decline in the LFPR to a level not seen since the mid-1970s.  If those who left the labor market were to decide to once again seek employment, pushing the LFPR back up, unless the economic environment changed dramatically, the unemployment rate would also be pushed up to a much higher level.

Beyond the aggregate figures is the fact, as Heather Long, Andrew Van Dam, Alyssa Fowers and Leslie Shapiro explain in a Washington Post article, that “No other recession in modern history has so pummeled society’s most vulnerable.”

As we can see in the above graphic, the 1990 recession was a relatively egalitarian affair with all income groups suffering roughly a similar decline in employment.  That changed during the recessions of 2001 and 2008, with the lowest earning cohort suffering the most.  But, as the authors of the Washington Post article state, “even that inequality is a blip compared with what the coronavirus inflicted on low-wage workers this year.”  By the end of the summer, the employment crisis was largely over for the highest earners, while employment was still down more than 20 percent for low-wage workers and around 10 percent for middle-wage workers.

Poverty is on the rise

In line with this disproportionate hit suffered by low wage workers, the poverty rate has been climbing.  Five Columbia University researchers, using a monthly version of the Supplemental Poverty Measure (SPM), provide estimates of the monthly poverty rate from October 2019 through September 2020.  They found, as illustrated below, “that the monthly poverty rate increased from 15% to 16.7% from February to September 2020, even after taking the CARES Act’s income transfers into account. Increases in monthly poverty rates have been particularly acute for Black and Hispanic individuals, as well as for children.”

The standard poverty measure used by the federal government is an annual one, based on whether a family’s total annual income falls below a specified income level.  It doesn’t allow for monthly calculations and is widely criticized for using an extremely low emergency food budget to set its poverty level.   The SPM includes a more complete and accurate measure of family resources, a more expansive definition of family, the cost of a broader basket of necessities, and is adjusted for cost of living across metro areas.

As we can see in the above figure, the $2.2 trillion Coronavirus Aid, Relief, and Economic Security (CARES) Act, which was passed by Congress and signed into law on March 27th, 2020, has had a positive effect on poverty levels.  For example, without it, the poverty rate would have jumped to 19.4 percent in April. “Put differently, the CARE Act’s income transfers directly lifted around 18 million individuals out of poverty in April.”

However, as we can also see, the positive effects of the CARES Act have gradually dissipated.  The Economic Impact Payments (“Recovery Rebates”) were one-time payments.  The $600 per week unemployment supplement expired at the end of July.  Thus, the gap between the monthly SPM with and without the CARES Act has gradually narrowed.  And, with job creation dramatically slowing, without a new federal stimulus measure it is likely we will not see much improvement in the poverty rate in the coming months.  In fact, if working people continue to leave the labor market out of discouragement and the pressure of home responsibilities, there is a good chance the poverty rate will climb again.

It is also important to note that the rise in monthly rates of poverty, even with the CARES Act, differs greatly by race/ethnicity as illustrated in the following figure.

The need to do more

Republican opposition to a new stimulus ensures that that there will be no follow-up to the CARES Act before the upcoming election.  Opponents claim that the federal government has already done enough and the economy is well on its way to recovery. 

As for the size of the stimulus, the United States has been a lagger when it comes to its fiscal response to the pandemic.  The OECD recently published an interim report titled “Coronavirus: Living with uncertainty.”  One section of the report looks at fiscal support as a percent of 2019 GDP for nine countries. As the following figure shows, the United States trails every country but Korea when it comes to direct support for workers, firms, and health care.  

A big change is needed

While it is natural to view COVID-19 as responsible for our current crisis, the truth is that our economic problems are more long-term.  The U.S. economy has been steadily weakening for years.  In the figure below, the “trend” line is based on the 2.1% average rate of growth in real per capita GDP from 1970 to 2007, the year before the Great Recession.  Not surprising, real per capita GDP took a big hit during the Great Recession.  But as we can also see, real per capita GDP has yet to return to its historical trend. In fact, the gap has grown larger despite the record long recovery that followed. 

As Doug Henwood explains:

Since 2009, the growth rate has averaged 1.6%. Last year [2019], which Trump touted as the greatest economy ever, it managed to get back to the pre-2008 average of 2.1%, an average that includes two deep recessions (1973–1975 and 1981–1982).

At the end of 2019, actual [real GDP per capita] was 13% below trend. At the end of the 2008–2009 recession it was 9% below trend. Remarkably, despite a decade-long expansion, it fell further below trend in well over half the quarters since the Great Recession ended. The gap is now equal to $10,200 per person—a permanent loss of income, as economists say. 

The pre-coronavirus period of expansion (June 2009 to February 2020), although the longest on record, was actually also one of the weakest. It was marked by slow growth, weak job creation, deteriorating job quality, declining investment, rising debt, declining life expectancy, and narrowing corporate profit margins. In other words, the economy was heading toward recession even before the start of state mandated lockdowns.  The manufacturing sector actually spent much of 2019 in recession.   

Thus, there is strong reason to believe that a meaningful sustained recovery from the current COVID-19 economic crisis is going to require more than the development of an effective vaccine and a responsive health care system to ensure its wide distribution.  Also needed is significant structural change in the operation and orientation of the economy.

Coronavirus: a return to normal is not good enough

We shouldn’t be satisfied with a return to normalcy. We need a “new normal.”

We are now in a recession, one triggered by government ordered closures of businesses producing nonessential goods and services, an action taken to limit the spread of the coronavirus. In response, Congress has approved three stimulus measures which legislators hope will keep the economy afloat until the virus is contained and companies can resume business as usual.

Many people, rightly criticizing the size, speed, and aims of these measures, have called for a new, improved stimulus package.  But what is getting far less attention, and may be the most important thing to criticize, is the notion that we should view a return to normalcy as our desired goal.  The fact is we also need a new economy.

The old normal only benefited a few

The media, even those critical of the Trump administration, all too often showcase economic experts who, while acknowledging the severity of the current crisis, reassure us that economic activity will return to normal before too long.  But since our economy increasingly worked to benefit a small minority, that is no cause for celebration.

Rarely mentioned is the fact that our economy was heading into a recession before the coronavirus hit. Or that living and working conditions for the majority of Americans were declining even during the past years of expansion. Or that the share of workers in low-wage jobs was growing over the last fifteen years.  Or that Americans are facing a retirement crisis.  Or that life expectancy fell from 2014 to 2017 because of the rise in mortality among young and middle-aged adults of all racial groups due to drug overdoses, suicides, and alcoholism.  If existing patterns of ownership and production remain largely unchanged, we face a future of ever greater instability, inequality, and poverty.

The economic crisis

The failings of our current system are only accentuated by the crisis. Many analysts are predicting an unprecedented one-quarter decline in GDP of 8 percent to 10 percent in the second quarter of this year.   The overall yearly decline may well be in the 5-7 percent range, the steepest annual drop in growth since 1946.

The unemployment rate is soaring and may reach 20 percent before the year is out.  A recent national survey found that 52 percent of workers under the age of 45 have already lost their job, been placed on leave, or had their hours cut because of the pandemic-caused downturn.

As a consequence, many people are finding it difficult to pay rent.  Survey results show that only 69 percent of renters paid their rent during the first week of April compared with over 80 percent during the first week of March.  And this includes renters who made partial payments.  Homeowners are not in much better shape.

Our unemployment insurance system has long been deficient: benefits are inadequate, last for only short period of time, and eligibility restrictions leave many workers uncovered. As of year-end 2019, the average unemployment insurance check was only $378 a week, the average duration of benefits was less than 15 weeks, and fewer than one-third of those unemployed were drawing benefits.

Now, the system is overwhelmed by people seeking to file new claims, leaving millions unable to even start their application process.  Although recent federal legislation allows states to expand their unemployment insurance eligibility and benefits, a very large share of those losing their jobs will find this part of our safety net not up to its assigned job.

A better crafted stimulus is needed

In response to the crisis, policy-makers have struggled to approve three so-called stimulus measures, the March 2020 Coronavirus Aid, Relief, and Economic Security (CARES) Act being the largest and most recent.  Unfortunately, these efforts have been disappointing.  For example, most of the provisions in the CARES Act include set termination dates untied to economic or health conditions. Approved spending amounts for individuals are also insufficient, despite the fact that Treasury Secretary Mnuchin believes the $1200 provided to most Americans as part of the CARES Act will be enough to tide them over for 10 weeks.

Also problematic is that not all CARE funds are directed to where they are most needed.  For example, no money was allocated to help states maintain their existing Medicaid program eligibility and benefit standards or expand health care coverage to uninsured immigrants and those who lose their job-based insurance.  And no money was allocated to state and local governments to help them maintain existing services in the face of declining tax revenues. Perhaps not surprisingly, the largest share of CARES approved spending is earmarked for corporate rescues without any requirement that the funds be used for saving jobs or wages.  In sum, we need another, better stimulus measure if we hope to minimize the social costs of our current crisis.

Creating a new normal

Even a better stimulus measure leaves our economy largely unchanged.  Yet, ironically, our perilous situation has encouraged countless expressions of social trust and solidarity that reveal ways to move forward to a more humane, egalitarian, and sustainable economy.  This starts with the growing recognition by many Americans that social solidarity, not competitive individualism, should shape our policies. People have demonstrated strong support for free and universal access to health care during this crisis, and we can build on that to push for an expansive Medicare for All health care system.  People also have shown great solidarity with the increasingly organized struggles of mail carriers, health care workers, bus drivers, grocery shoppers, cashiers, and warehouse workers to keep themselves safe while they brave the virus for our benefit.  We can build on that solidarity to push for new labor laws that strengthen the ability of all workers to form strong, democratic unions.

There is also growing support for putting social well-being before the pursuit of profit.  Many people have welcomed government action mandating that private corporations convert their production to meet social needs, such as the production of ventilators and masks.  We can build on this development to encourage the establishment of publicly owned and operated industries to ensure the timely and affordable production of critical goods like pharmaceuticals and health care equipment. And many people are coming to appreciate the importance of planning for future crises.  This appreciation can be deepened to encourage support for the needed transformation of our economy to minimize the negative consequences of the growing climate crisis.

We should not discount our ability to shape the future we want.

The Green New Deal and the State: Lessons from World War II—Part II

There is growing interest in a Green New Deal, but far too little discussion among supporters about the challenging nature of the required economic transformation, the necessary role of public planning and ownership in shaping it, or the strategies necessary to institutionalize a strong worker-community voice in the process and final outcome. In this two-part series I draw on the experience of World War II, when the state was forced to direct a rapid transformation from civilian to military production, to help encourage and concretize that discussion.

In Part I, I first discussed the need for a rapid Green New Deal-inspired transformation and the value of studying the U.S. experience during World War II to help us achieve it. Then, I examined the evolution, challenges, and central role of state planning in the wartime conversion to alert us to the kind of state agencies and capacities we will need to develop. Finally, I highlighted two problematic aspects of the wartime conversion and postwar reconversion which we must guard against: the ability of corporations to strengthen their dominance and the marginalization of working people from any decision-making role in conversion planning.

Here in Part II, I discuss the efforts of labor activists to democratize the process of transformation during the war period in order to sharpen our thinking about how best to organize a labor-community movement for a Green New Deal.  During this period, many labor activists struggled against powerful political forces to open up space for new forms of economic planning with institutionalized worker-community involvement.  The organizing and movement building efforts of District 8 leaders of the United Electrical, Radio & Machine Workers of America (UE), as described by Rosemary Feuer in her book Radical Unionism in the Midwest, 1900-1950, stand out in this regard.  Although their success was limited, there is much that we can learn from their efforts.

Organizing for a worker-community planned conversion process

District 8 covered Missouri, Iowa, Kansas, Arkansas, southern Indiana and southern and western Illinois, and UE contracts in that area were heavily weighted towards small and medium sized firms producing mechanical and electrical products.  As the government began its war time economic conversion in 1941, its policy of suppressing civilian goods and rewarding big corporations with defense contracts hit the firms that employed UE members hard.

The UE response was to build a labor and community-based effort to gain control over the conversion process. In Evansville, Indiana, the UE organized a community campaign titled “Prevent Evansville from Becoming a Ghost Town.”  As Feurer explains,

District 8’s tentative proposal called upon union and civic and business leaders to request the establishment of a federal program that would “be administered through joint and bona fide union-management-government cooperation” at the local level. It would ensure that before reductions in the production of consumer goods were instituted, government must give enough primary war contracts and subcontracts to “take up the slack” of unemployment caused in cities such as Evansville. It also proposed that laid-off workers would get “first claim on jobs with other companies in the community,” while excessive overtime would be eliminated until unemployment was reduced.

District 8 organizers pressed Evansville’s mayor to gather community, labor, and business representatives from all over the Midwest to discuss how to manage the conversion to save jobs.  They organized mass petition drives and won endorsements for their campaign from many community groups and small businesses.  Persuaded, Evansville’s mayor contacted some 500 mayors from cities with populations under 250,000 in eleven midwestern states, requesting that they send delegations of “city officials, labor leaders, managers of industry and other civic leaders” to a gathering in Chicago.  Some 1500 delegates attended the September meeting.

The conference endorsed the UE’s call for a significant role for labor in conversion planning, specifically “equal participation of management and labor in determining a proper and adequate retraining program and allocation of primary and sub-contracts. . . [And that] all possible steps be taken to avoid serious dislocations in non-defense industries.”  A committee of seven, with two labor representatives, was chosen to draw up a more concrete program of action.

One result was that Evansville and Newton, Iowa (another city with a strong UE presence) were named “Priority Unemployment Plan” areas, and allowed to conduct “an experiment for community-based solving of unemployment and dislocations caused by war priorities.”  The plan restricted new plant construction if existing production capacity was considered sufficient, encouraged industry-wide and geographical-based pooling of production facilities to boost efficiency and stabilize employment, required companies to provide training to help workers upgrade their skills, and supported industry-wide studies to determine how to best adapt existing facilities for military production.

William Sentner, the head of District 8, called for labor to take a leading role in organizing community gatherings in other regions and creating regional planning councils. Unfortunately, CIO leaders did little to support the idea. Moreover, once the war started, unemployment stopped being a serious problem and the federal government took direct control over the conversion process.

Organizing for a worker-community planned reconversion process

As the war began to wind down, District 8 leaders once again took up the issue of conversion, this time conversion back to a peacetime economy.  In 1943, they got the mayor of St. Louis to create a community planning committee, with strong labor participation, to discuss future economic possibilities for the city.  In 1944, they organized a series of union conferences with elected worker representatives from each factory department in plants under UE contract throughout the district, along with selected guests, to discuss reconversion and postwar employment issues.

At these conferences District 8 leaders emphasized the importance of continued government planning to guarantee full employment, but also stressed that the new jobs should be interesting and fulfilling and the workweek should be reduced to 30 hours to allow more time for study, recreation, and family life.  They also discussed the importance of other goals: an expansion of workers’ rights in production; labor-management collaboration to develop and produce new products responsive to new needs; support for women who wanted to continue working, in part by the provision of nurseries; and the need to end employment discrimination against African Americans.

While these conferences were taking place, the Missouri River flooded, covering many thousands of acres of farmland with dirt and sand, and leaving thousands of people homeless.  The US Army Corps of Engineers rushed to take advantage of the situation, proposing a major dredging operation to deepen the lower Missouri River channel, an effort strongly supported by big shipping interests.  It became known as the Pick Plan. Not long after, the Bureau of Reclamation proposed a competing plan that involved building a series of dams and reservoirs in the upper river valley, a plan strongly supported by big agricultural interests. It became known as the Sloan Plan.

While lower river and upper river business interests battled, a grassroots movement grew across the region opposing both plans, seeing them, each in their own way, as highly destructive.  For example, building the dams and reservoirs would destroy the environment and require the flooding of hundreds of thousands of acres, much of it owned by small farmers, and leave tens of thousands of families without homes.

Influenced by the growing public anger, newspapers in St. Louis began calling for the creation of a new public authority, a Missouri Valley Authority (MVA), to implement a unified plan for flood control and development that was responsive to popular needs.  Their interest in an MVA reflected the popularity of the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA), an agency created in 1933 and tasked with providing cheap electricity to homes and businesses and addressing many of the region’s other development challenges, such as flooding, land erosion, and population out-migration.  In fact, during the 1930s, several bills were submitted to Congress to establish other river-based regional authorities.  Roosevelt endorsed seven of them, but they all died in committee as the Congress grew more conservative and war planning took center stage in Washington DC.

District 8, building on its desire to promote postwar regional public planning, eagerly took up the idea of an MVA.  It issued a pamphlet titled “One River, One Plan” that laid out its vision for the agency.  As a public agency, it was to be responsive to a broad community steering committee; have the authority to engage in economic and environmental planning for the region; and, like the TVA, directly employ unionized workers to carry out much of its work.  Its primary tasks would be the electrification of rural areas and flood control through soil and water conservation projects and reforestation.  The pamphlet estimated that five hundred thousand jobs could be created within five years as a result of these activities and the greater demand for goods and services flowing from electrification and the revitalization of small farms and their communities.

District 8 used its pamphlet to launch a community-based grassroots campaign for its MVA, which received strong support from many unions, environmentalists, and farm groups.  And, in August 1944, Senator James Murray from Montana submitted legislation to establish an MVA, written largely with the help of District 8 representatives.  A similar bill was submitted in the House.  Both versions called for a two-year planning period with the final plan to be voted on by Congress.

District 8 began planning for a bigger campaign to win Congressional approval.  However, their efforts were dealt a major blow when rival supporters of the Pick and Sloan plans settled their differences and coalesced around a compromise plan.  Congress quickly approved the Pick-Sloan Flood Control Act late December 1944 but, giving MVA supporters some hope that they could still prevail, Senator Murray succeeded in removing the act’s anti-MVA provisions.

District 8 leaders persuaded their national union to assign staff to help them establish a St. Louis committee, a nine-state committee, and a national committee to support the MVA. The St. Louis committee was formed in January 1945 with a diverse community-based steering committee.  Its strong outreach effort was remarkably successful, even winning support from the St. Louis Chamber of Commerce.  Feurer provides a good picture of the breadth and success of the effort:

By early 1945, other city-based committees were organizing in the nine-state region. A new national CIO committee for an MVA laid plans for “reaching every CIO member in the nine-state region on the importance of regionally administered MVA.  In addition, other state CIO federations pledged to organize for an MVA and to disseminate material on the MVA through local unions to individual members.  Further the seeds planted in 1944 among AFL unions were beginning to develop into a real coalition.  In Kansas City, the AFL was “circulating all the building trades unions in the nine states for support” to establish a nine-state buildings trades MVA committee. Both the AFL and CIO held valley wide conferences on the MVA to promote and organize for it.

Murray submitted a new bill in February 1945, which included new measures on soil conversation and the protection of wild game, water conservation, and forest renewal. It also gave the MVA responsibility for the “disposal of war and defense factories to encourage industrial and business expansion.”

But the political tide had turned.  The economy was in expansion, the Democratic Party was moving rightward, and powerful forces were promoting a growing fear of communism.  Murray’s new bill was shunted to a hostile committee and big business mounted an unrelenting and successful campaign to kill it, arguing that the MVA would establish an undemocratic “super-government,” was a step toward “state socialism,” and was now unnecessary given passage of the Pick-Sloan Flood Control Act.

Drawing lessons

A careful study of District 8’s efforts, especially its campaign for an MVA, can help us think more creatively and effectively about how to build a labor-community coalition in support of a Green New Deal.  In terms of policy, there are many reasons to consider following District 8 in advocating for regionally based public entities empowered to plan and direct economic activity as a way to begin the national process of transformation.  For example, many of the consequences of climate change are experienced differently depending on region, which makes it far more effective to plan regional responses.  And many of the energy and natural resources that need to be managed during a period of transformation are shared by neighboring states.  Moreover, state governments, unions, and community groups are more likely to have established relations with their regional counterparts, making conversation and coordination easier to achieve.  Also, regionally organized action would make it much harder for corporations to use inter-state competition to weaken initiatives.

Jonathan Kissam, UE’s Communication Director and editor of the UE News, advocates just such an approach:

UE District 8’s Missouri Valley Authority proposal could easily be revived and modernized, and combined with elements of the British proposal for a National Climate Service. A network of regional Just Transition Authorities, publicly owned and accountable to communities and workers, could be set up to address the specific carbon-reduction and employment needs of different regions of the country.

The political lessons are perhaps the most important.  District 8’s success in building significant labor-community alliances around innovative plans for war conversion and then peacetime reconversion highlights the pivotal role unions can, or perhaps must, play in a progressive transformation process.  Underpinning this success was District 8’s commitment to sustained internal organizing and engagement with community partners.  Union members embraced the campaigns because they could see how a planned transformation of regional economic activity was the only way to secure meaningful improvements in workplace conditions, and such a transformation could only be won in alliance with the broader community.  And community allies, and eventually even political leaders, were drawn to the campaigns because they recognized that joining with organized labor gave them the best chance to win structural changes that also benefited them.

We face enormous challenges in attempting to build a similar kind of working class-anchored movement for a Green New Deal-inspired economic transformation.  Among them: weakened unions; popular distrust of the effectiveness of public planning and production; and weak ties between labor, environmental, and other community groups.  Overcoming these challenges will require our own sustained conversations and organizing to strengthen the capacities of, and connections between, our organizations and to develop a shared and grounded vision of a Green New Deal, one that can unite and empower the broader movement for change we so desperately need.

The Green New Deal and the State: Lessons from World War II—Part I

There is growing interest in a Green New Deal, but far too little discussion among supporters about the challenging nature of the required economic transformation, the necessary role of public planning and ownership in shaping it, or the strategies necessary to institutionalize a strong worker-community voice in the process and final outcome.  In this two-part series I draw on the experience of World War II, when the state was forced to direct a rapid transformation from civilian to military production, to help encourage and concretize that discussion.

In this post, I first discuss the need for a rapid Green New Deal-inspired transformation and the value of studying the US experience during World War II to help us achieve it.  Next, I examine the evolution, challenges, and central role of state planning in the wartime conversion of the US economy to alert us to the kind of state agencies and capacities  we will need to develop. Finally, I highlight two problematic aspects of the wartime conversion and postwar reconversion which must be avoided if we hope to ensure a conversion to a more democratic and solidaristic economy.

In the post to follow, I will highlight the efforts of labor activists to democratize the process of transformation during the war period in order to sharpen our thinking about how best to organize a labor-community mass movement for a Green New Deal.

The challenge of transformation

We are already experiencing a climate crisis, marked by extreme weather conditions, droughts, floods, warming oceans, rising sea levels, fires, ocean acidification, and soil deterioration.  The Special Report on Global Warming of 1.5°C by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change underscores the importance of limiting the increase in the global mean temperature to 1.5 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels by 2100 if we are to avoid ever worsening climate disasters and “global scale degradation and loss of ecosystems and biodiversity.” The report makes clear that achieving this goal requires reducing global net carbon dioxide emissions by 45 per cent by 2030 and then reaching net zero emissions by 2050.

Tragically, despite the seriousness of the crisis, we are on track for a far higher global mean temperature.  Even big business is aware of what is at stake. Two researchers employed by JP Morgan, the world’s largest financer of fossil fuels, recently published an internal study that warns of the dangers of climate inaction. According to the Guardian, which obtained a copy of the report, “the authors say policymakers need to change direction because a business-as-usual climate policy ‘would likely push the earth to a place that we haven’t seen for many millions of years,’ with outcomes that might be impossible to reverse.”

It is easy to see why growing numbers of people are attracted to the idea of a Green New Deal.  The Green New Deal promises a rapid and dramatic curtailing of fossil fuel use as part of a broader transformation to a more sustainable, egalitarian, and socially responsive economy.  Such a transformation will, by necessity, involve massive new investments to promote the production and distribution of clean renewable energy, expand energy efficient public transit systems, support regenerative agriculture, and retrofit existing homes, offices, and factories.  The Green New Deal also promises new, publicly funded programs designed to ensure well-paid and secure employment for all; high-quality universal health care; affordable, safe public housing; clean air; and healthy and affordable food.

Unfortunately, the proposed Green New Deal investments and programs, as attractive and as needed as they may be, are unlikely on their own to achieve the required reduction in carbon emissions.  It is true that many Green New Deal investments and programs can be expected to lower overall energy demand, thereby making it easier for rapidly growing supplies of clean energy to support economic activity.  But even though renewable energy production is growing rapidly in the US, it still accounts for less than 15 percent of total US energy consumption and less than 20 percent of electricity generation.  And based on the experience of other countries, increasing the production of renewable energy does not, by itself, guarantee a significant decline in the production and use of fossil fuels, especially when they remain relatively cheap and plentiful.

Rapid decarbonization will also require direct government action to force down the production of fossil fuels and make their use prohibitively expensive.  And this action will have significant consequences.  For example, limiting fossil fuel production will leave fossil fuel companies with enormous unused and therefore worthless assets.  Raising the price of fossil fuels will sharply increase the cost of flying, with negative consequences for the large manufacturers of airplanes and their subcontractors.  It will also increase the cost of gasoline, with negative consequences for automobile companies that produce gas guzzling cars.  Other major industries will also be affected, for example, the home building industry that specializes in large suburban homes, and the financial sector that has extended loans to firms in all these industries.

Thus, any serious attempt to rapidly force down fossil fuel use can be expected to negatively affect important sectors of the economy. Proposed Green New Deal investments and social policy initiatives will lay the foundation for a new economy, helping to boost employment and absorb some of the newly created excess capacity, but given the need for a speedy transformation to head off climate catastrophe, the process, if left unplanned, could easily end up dragging the economy down.

As difficult as this process appears, we do have historical experience to draw upon that can help us prepare for some of the challenges we can expect to face: the experience of World War II, when the US government was forced to initiate a rapid transformation of the US economy from civilian to military production.  New planning bodies were created to direct resources away from civilian use, retrain workers, encourage retooling of parts of the civilian economy to produce military goods and services, and direct massive investments to build new facilities to expand production or produce new goods needed for the war effort.  While far from a model to be recreated, advocates of a Green New Deal can learn much from studying the US war-time experience.

World War II planning

The shift to a war economy began gradually in 1939, some two years before the US actually entered the war. In June 1939, the Congress passed the Strategic and Critical Materials Stockpiling Act, which called for establishing reserves of strategic materials necessary for defense.  In August 1939, President Roosevelt established the War Resources Board to help the Joint Army and Navy Munitions Board develop plans for mobilizing the economic resources of the country in the event of war.

In June 1940, a National Roster of Scientific and Specialized Personnel was created.  In August 1940, the Defense Plant Corporation was created and charged with planning how to expand the nation’s ability to produce military equipment.  And in September 1940, the Congress approved the Selective Training and Service Act of 1940, which required all men between the ages of 21 and 45 to register for the draft.

In January 1941, President Roosevelt created the Office of Production Management to centralize all federal procurement programs concerned with the country’s preparation for war.  Shortly after the US entered the war, this office was replaced by the War Production Board (WPB), which was tasked with directing the conversion of industries from civilian to military work; the allocation of scare materials; and the establishment of priorities for the distribution of goods and services, including those to be rationed.

The conversion to a war economy, and the end of the depression, roughly dates to the second half of 1941, when defense spending sharply accelerated.  Federal spending on goods and services for national defense rose from 2.2 percent of GNP in 1940 to 11 percent of GNP in 1941. This was the last year that military-generated activity was compatible with growing civilian production. In 1942, military spending soared to 31 percent of GNP.  From then to the end of the war, civilian production was suppressed in order to secure the desired growth in military production.

For example, real consumer durable expenditures reached $24.7 billion (in 1972 dollars) or 6.2 percent of GNP in 1941.  The following year they fell to $16.3 billion or 3.6 percent of GNP.  Real personal consumption which grew by 6.2 percent in 1941, fell absolutely the following year.  Between 1940 and 1944, the total production of non-war goods and services fell from $180 billion to $164 billion (in 1950 dollars).  In contrast, real federal purchases of military commodities grew from $18 billion in 1941 to $88 billion in 1944 (in 1947 dollars), accounting for approximately one-half of all commodities produced that year.

No doubt, the high level of unemployment that existed at the start of the conversion made it easier to ramp up military production—but the military itself soon absorbed a large share of the male working age population.  Moreover, the challenge facing planners was not just that of ramping up production in a depressed economy, but of converting the economy to produce different goods, often in new locations.  This required the recruitment, training, and placement of millions of workers in accordance with ever changing industrial, occupational, and geographic requirements.

In the period of preparation for war, perhaps the biggest challenge was training.  It was largely met thanks to vocational training programs organized by the Employment Division.  These training programs made use of ongoing New Deal programs such as the Civilian Conservation Corps, Works Progress Administration, and National Youth Administration; the existing network of schools and colleges, and a Training-Within-Industry program.  Once the war began, the War Manpower Commission continued the effort.  Altogether, some 7 million people went through training programs, almost half through Training-Within-Industry programs.

The hard shift from a civilian driven economy into a military dominated one was, to a large degree, forced on the government by corporate concerns over future profitability.  In brief, most large corporations were reluctant to expand their productive capacity for fear that doing so would leave them vulnerable to a post-war collapse in demand and depression.  Among the most resistant were leading firms in the following industries: automobile, steel, oil, electric power, and railroads.  At the same time, these firms also opposed the establishment of government owned enterprises; they feared they might become post-war competitors or even worse, encourage popular interest in socialism.

Unwilling to challenge business leaders, the government took the path of least resistance—it agreed to support business efforts to convert their plant and equipment from civilian to military production; offer businesses engaged in defense work cost plus contracting; and suppress worker wages and their right to strike.  And, if the government did find it necessary to invest and establish new firms to produce critical goods, it agreed to allow private businesses to run them, with the option to purchase the new plant and its equipment at a discounted price at the war’s conclusion.  As a consequence, big business did quite well during the war and was well position to be highly profitable in the years following the end of the war.

Business reluctance to invest in expanding capacity, including in industries vital to the military, meant that the government had to develop a number of powerful new planning bodies to ensure that the limited output was allocated correctly and efficiently across the military-industrial supply chain.  For example, raw steel production grew only 8 percent from 1941 to the 1944 wartime peak.  Crude petroleum refining capacity grew only 12 percent between 1941 and 1945.  Leading firms in the auto industry were also reluctant to give up sales or engage in conversion to military production, initially claiming that no more than 15 percent of its machine tools were convertible.  But, once the war started and US planners regulated steel use, giving priority to military production, the auto industry did retool and produce a range of important military goods, including tanks, jeeps, trucks, and parts and subassemblies for the aircraft industry, including engines and propellers.

In many cases, corporate foot-dragging forced the government to establish its own production. Thus, while steel ingot capacity expanded by a modest 17 percent from 1940 to 1945, almost half of that increase came from government owned firms.  The role of government production was probably greatest in the case of synthetic rubber.  The US had relied on imports for some 90 percent of its supply of natural rubber, mostly from countries that fell under Japanese control.  Desperate for synthetic rubber to maintain critical civilian and military production, the government pursued a massive facility construction program. Almost all of the new capacity was financed and owned by the government and then leased to private operators for $1 per year. Thanks to this effort, synthetic rubber output rose from 22,434 long tons in 1942 to 753,111 long tons in 1944.  The Defense Plant Corporation ended up financing and owning approximately one-third of all the plant and equipment built during the war.

The War Production Board, created by presidential executive order in January 1942, was the country’s first major wartime planning agency.   Roosevelt choose Donald M. Nelson, a Sears Roebuck executive, to be its chairperson. Other members of the board were the Secretaries of War, Navy, and Agriculture, the lieutenant general in charge of War Department procurement, the director of the Office of Price Administration, the Federal Loan Administrator, the chair of the Board of Economic Warfare, and the special assistant to the President for the defense aid program.

The WPB managed twelve regional offices, and operated some one hundred twenty field offices throughout the country.  Their work was supported by state-level war production boards, which were responsible for keeping records on the firms engaged in war production in their respective states, including whether they operated under government contract.

However, despite its vast information gathering network, the WPB was never able to take command of the conversion of the economy. To some extent that was because Nelson proved to be a weak leader. But a more important reason was that the WPB had to contend with a number of other powerful agencies that were each authorized to direct the output of a specific critical industry.  The result was a kind of free-for-all when it came to developing and implementing a unified plan.

Perhaps the most powerful independent agency was the Army-Navy Munitions Board.  And early on the WPB ceded its authority over the awarding of military contracts to it. The Army and Navy awarded more contracts then could be fulfilled, creating problems in the supply chain as firms competed to obtain needed materials.  Turf fights among government agencies led to other problems. For example, the Office of Defense Transportation and the Petroleum Administration for War battled over who could decide petroleum requirements for transportation services.  And the Office of Price Administration fought the Solid Fuels Administration over who would control the rationing of coal.

A Bureau of the Budget history of the period captures some of the early chaos:

Locomotive plants went into tank production when locomotives were more necessary than tanks . . . Truck plants began to produce airplanes, a change that caused shortages of trucks later on . . . Merchant ships took steel from the Navy, and the landing craft cut into both. The Navy took aluminum from aircraft.  Rubber took valves from escort vessels, from petroleum, from the Navy.  The pipe-lines took steel from ships, new tools, and the railroads. And at every turn there were foreign demands to be met as well as requirements for new plants.

In response to the chaos, Roosevelt established another super agency in May 1943, the Office of War Mobilization (OWM).  This agency, headed by James F. Byrnes, a former politician and Supreme Court justice, was given authority over the WPB and the other agencies.  In fact, Byrnes’ authority was so great, he was often called the “assistant President.”

The OWM succeeded in installing a rigorous system of materials control and bringing order to the planning process.  As a result, civilian production was efficiently suppressed and military production steadily increased.  Over the period 1941 to 1945, the US was responsible for roughly 40 percent of the world’s production of weapons and supplies, and with little increase in the nation’s capital stock.

The experience highlighted above shows the effectiveness of planning, and that a contemporary economic conversion based on Green New Deal priorities, in which fossil fuel dependent industries are suppressed in favor of more sustainable economic activity, can be achieved.  It also shows that a successful transformation will require the creation of an integrated, multi-level system of planning, and that the process of transformation can be expected to generate challenges that will need to be handled with flexibility and patience.

World War II planning: cautionary lessons

The war-time conversion experience also holds two important cautionary lessons for a Green New Deal-inspired economic transformation.  The first is the need to remain vigilant against the expected attempt by big business to use the planning process to strengthen its hold on the economy.  If we are to achieve our goal of creating a sustainable, egalitarian, and solidaristic economy, we must ensure a dominant and ongoing role for public planning of economic activity and an expansive policy of public ownership, both taking over firms that prove resistant to the transformation and retaining ownership of newly created firms.

Unfortunately, the federal government was all too willing to allow big corporations to dominate the war-time conversion process as well as the peacetime reconversion, thereby helping them boost their profits and solidify their post-war economic domination.  For example, the Army and Navy routinely awarded their defense contracts to a very few large companies.  And these companies often chose other big companies as their prime subcontractors.  Small and medium sized firms also struggled to maintain their production of civilian goods because planning agencies often denied them access to needed materials.

Harold G. Vatter highlights the contract preference given to big firms during the war, noting that:

of $175 billion of primary contracts awarded between June 1940 and September 1944, over one-half went to the top 33 corporations (with size measured by value of primary supply contracts received). The smallest 94 percent of prime supply contract corporations (contracts of $9 million or less) got 10 percent of the value of all prime contracts in that period.

The same big firms disproportionally benefited from the reconversion process.  In October 1944, the OWM was converted into the Office of War Mobilization and Reconversion (OWMR), with Byrnes remaining as head.  The OWMR embraced its new role and moved quickly to achieve the reconversion of the economy.  It overcame opposition from the large military contractors, who were reluctant to give up their lucrative business, by granting them early authorization to begin production of civilian goods, thereby helping them dominate the emerging consumer markets.

The OWMR was also generous in its post-war distribution of government assets. The government, at war’s end, owned approximately $17 billion of plant and equipment.  These holdings, concentrated in the chemical, steel, aluminum, copper, shipbuilding, and aircraft industries, were estimated to be about 15 percent of the country’s total postwar plant capacity.  The government also owned “surplus” war property estimated to be worth some $50 and $70 billion.

Because of the way government wartime investment had been structured, there was little question about who would get the lion’s share of these public assets.  Most government owned plants were financed under terms specifying that the private firms operating them would be given the right to purchase them at war’s end if desired.  Thus, according to one specialist, roughly two-thirds of the $17 billion of government plant and equipment was sold to 87 large firms.  The “bulk of copolymer synthetic rubber plants went to the Big Four in rubber; large chemical plants were sold to the leading oil companies, and U.S. Steel received 71 percent of government-built integrated steel plants.”

The second cautionary lesson is the need to resist efforts by the government, justified in the name of efficiency, to minimize the role of unions, and working people more generally, in the planning and organization of the economic conversion. The only way to guarantee that a Green New Deal-inspired transformation will create an economy responsive to the needs of working people and their communities is to create institutional arrangements that secure popular participation in decision-making at all levels of economic activity.

While organized labor had at least an advisory role in prewar planning agencies, once the war began, it was quickly marginalized, and its repeated calls for more participation rejected.  For example, Sidney Hillman (head of the Amalgamated Clothing Workers) was appointed to be one of two chairs of the Office of Production Management, which was established in January 1941 to oversee federal efforts at national war preparation. The other was William S. Knudsen (president of General Motors).  The OPM also included a Labor Bureau, also led by Hillman, which was to advise it on labor recruitment, training, and mobilization issues, as well as Labor Advisory Committees attached to the various commodity and industry branches that reported to the OPM.

The labor presence was dropped from the War Production Board, which replaced the OPM in January 1942; Roosevelt appointed a businessman, Donald M. Nelson, to be its sole chair.  Hillman was appointed director of the board’s Labor Division, but that division was soon eliminated and its responsibilities transferred to the newly created War Manpower Commission in April 1942.

More generally, as organized labor found itself increasingly removed from key planning bodies, workers found themselves increasingly asked to accept growing sacrifices.  Prices began rising in 1940 and 1941 as the economy slowly recovered from the depression and began its transformation to war production.  In response, workers pushed for significant wage increases which the government, concerned about inflation, generally opposed.  In 1940, there were 2500 strikes producing 6.7 million labor-days idle.  The following year there were 4300 strikes with 23.1 million labor-days idle.

Hillman called for a national policy of real wage maintenance based on inflation indexing that would also allow the greatest wage gains to go to those who earned the least, but the government took no action.  As war mobilization continued, the government sought a number of concessions from the unions.  For example, it wanted workers to sacrifice their job rights, such as seniority, when they were transferred from nondefense to defense work.  Union leaders refused.  Union leaders also demanded, unsuccessfully, that military contracts not be given to firms found to violate labor laws.

Worried about disruptions to war production, Roosevelt established the War Labor Board by executive order in January 1942.  The board was given responsibility for stabilizing wages and resolving disputes between workers and managers at companies considered vital to the war effort. The board’s hard stand on wage increases was set in July, when it developed its so-called “Little Steel Formula.” Ruling in a case involving the United Steelworkers and the four so-called “Little Steel” companies, the board decided that although steelworkers deserved a raise, it had to be limited to the amount that would restore their real earnings to their prewar level, which they set as January 1, 1941.  Adding insult to injury, the board relied on a faulty price index that underestimated the true rate of inflation since the beginning of 1941.

Thus, while corporations were able to pursue higher profits, workers would have to postpone their “quest for an increasing share of the national income.”  Several months later, Roosevelt instructed the War Labor Board to use a similar formula, although with a different baseline, in all its future rulings.  Not surprisingly, the number of strikes continued to rise throughout the war years despite a December 1941 pledge by AFL and CIO leaders not to call strikes for the duration of the war.

In June 1943, with strikes continuing, especially in the coal fields, Congress passed the War Labor Disputes Act.  The act gave the president the power to seize and operate privately owned plants when an actual or threatened strike interfered with war production. Subsequent strikes in plants seized by the government were prohibited. The act was invoked more than 60 times during the war. The act also included a clause that made it illegal for unions to contribute to candidates for office in national elections, clearly an attempt to weaken labor’s political influence.

Although wage struggles drew most attention, union demands were far more expansive.  As Vatter describes:

Organized labor wanted wartime representation and participation in production decision-making at all levels, not merely the meaningless advisory role allotted to it during the preparedness period. But from the outset, management maintained a chronic hostile stance on the ground that management-labor industry councils such as proposed by Walter Reuther and CIO President Philip Murray in 1940 would, under cover of patriotism, undermine managements prerogatives and inaugurate a postwar “sovietization” of American industry.

Unions often pointed to the chaos of early planning, as captured by the Budget Bureau history, arguing that their active participation in production decisions would greatly improve overall efficiency.  The government’s lack of seriousness about union involvement is best illustrated by the WPB’s March 1942 decision to establish a special War Production Drive Division that was supposed to encourage the voluntary creation of labor-management plant committees.  However, the committees were only allowed to address specific physical production problems, not broader labor-management issues or production coordination across firms. Most large firms didn’t even bother creating committees.

Significantly, there was only one time that the government encouraged and supported popular participation in wartime decision-making, and that effort proved a great success.  Inflation was a constant concern of the government throughout the war years, largely because it was a trigger for strikes which threatened war time production.  The Office of Price Administration tried a variety of voluntary and bureaucratic controls to limit price increases on consumer goods and services, especially food, with little success.  Finally, beginning in mid-1943, and over the strong opposition of business, it welcomed popular participation in the operation of its price control system.

Tens of thousands of volunteers were formally authorized to visit retail locations throughout the country to monitor business compliance with the controls and tens of thousands of additional volunteers were chosen to serve on price boards that were empowered to fine retailers found in violation of the controls.  As a result, prices remained relatively stable from mid-1943 until early 1946 when the government abruptly ended the system of controls.  This was incredible achievement considering that the production of civilian goods and services declined over those years, while consumer purchasing power and the money supply rose.

 

Part II, on organizing and movement building lessons.

 

Climate Change, The Green New Deal, and the Struggle for Climate Justice

Most calls for a Green New Deal correctly emphasize that it must include a meaningful commitment to climate justice.  That is because climate change—for reasons of racism and capitalist profit-making—disproportionately punishes frontline communities, especially communities of color and low-income.

A 2020 published study on redlining (“the historical practice of refusing home loans or insurance to whole neighborhoods based on a racially motivated perception of safety for investment”) and urban heat islands helps to shed light on the process.  The authors of the study, Jeremy S. Hoffman, Vivek Shandas, and Nicholas Pendleton, examined temperature patterns in 108 US urban areas and found that 94 percent of them displayed “consistent city-scale patterns of elevated land surface temperatures in formerly redlined areas relative to their non-redlined neighbors by as much as 7 degrees Celsius (or 13 degrees Fahrenheit).”

As one of the authors explained in an interview:

“We found that those urban neighborhoods that were denied municipal services and support for home ownership during the mid-20th century now contain the hottest areas in almost every one of the 108 cities we studied,” Shandas said. “Our concern is that this systemic pattern suggests a woefully negligent planning system that hyper-privileged richer and whiter communities. As climate change brings hotter, more frequent and longer heat waves, the same historically underserved neighborhoods — often where lower-income households and communities of color still live — will, as a result, face the greatest impact.”

Urban heat islands

Climate scientists have long been aware of the existence of urban heat islands, localized areas of excessive land surface heat.  The urban heat island effect can cause temperatures to vary by as much as 10 degrees C within a single urban area.  As heat extremes become more common, and last longer, the number of associated illnesses and even deaths can be expected to rise.  Already, as Hoffman, Shandas, and Pendleton note,

extreme heat is the leading cause of summertime morbidity and has specific impacts on those communities with pre-existing health conditions (e.g., chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, asthma, cardiovascular disease, etc.), limited access to resources, and the elderly. Excess heat limits the human body’s ability to regulate its internal temperature, which can result in increased cases of heat cramps, heat exhaustion, and heatstroke and may exacerbate other nervous system, respiratory, cardiovascular, genitourinary, and diabetes-related conditions.

Studies have identified some clear causes for urban heat extremes—one is the density of impervious surface area; the greater the density, the hotter the land surface temperature.  The other is the tree canopy; the greater the canopy, the cooler the land surface temperature.  And as the three authors observe, “emerging research suggests that many of the hottest urban areas also tend to be inhabited by resource-limited residents and communities of color, underscoring the emerging lens of environmental justice as it relates to urban climate change and adaptation.” What their study helps us understand is that the process by which communities of color and poor came to live in areas with more impervious surface area and fewer green spaces was to a large degree the “result of racism and market forces.”

Racism and redlining

Racism in housing has a long history.  Kale Williams, writing in the Oregonian newspaper, highlights the Portland, Oregon history:

Exclusionary covenants, legal clauses written into property deeds, prohibited people of certain races, specifically African Americans and people of Asian descent, from purchasing homes. In 1919, the Portland Realty Board adopted a rule declaring it unethical to sell a home in a white neighborhood to an African American or Chinese person. The rules stayed in place until 1956.

In 1924, Portland voters approved the city’s first zoning policies. More than a dozen upscale neighborhoods were zoned for single-family homes. The policy, pushed by homeowners under the guise of protecting their property values, kept apartment buildings and multi-family homes, housing options more attainable for low-income residents, in less-desirable areas.

Portland was no isolated case; racism shaped national housing policy as well.  In 1933, Congress, as part of the New Deal, passed the Home Owners’ Loan Act, which established the Home Owners’ Loan Corporation (HOLC).  The purpose of the HOLC was to help homeowners refinance mortgages currently in default to prevent foreclosure and, of course, reduce stress on the financial system. It did that by issuing bonds, using the funds to purchase housing loans from lenders, and then refinancing the original mortgages, offering homeowners easier terms.

Between 1935 and 1940, the HOLC drew residential “security” maps for 239 cities across the United States.  These maps were made to access the long-term value of real estate now owned by the Federal Government and the health of the banking industry. They were based on input from local appraisers and neighborhood surveys, and neighborhood demographics.

As Hoffman, Shandas, and Pendleton describe, the HOLC:

created color-coded residential maps of 239 individual US cities with populations over 40,000. HOLC maps distinguished neighborhoods that were considered “best” and “hazardous” for real estate investments (largely based on racial makeup), the latter of which was outlined in red, leading to the term “redlining.” These “Residential Security” maps reflect one of four categories ranging from “Best” (A, outlined in green), “Still Desirable” (B, outlined in blue), “Definitely Declining” (C, outlined in yellow), to “Hazardous” (D, outlined in red).

This identification of problem neighborhoods with the racial makeup of the neighborhood was no accident.  And because the maps were widely distributed to other government bodies and private financial institutions, they served to guide private mortgage lending as well as government urban planning in the years that followed.  Areas outlined in red were almost always majority African-American.  And as a consequence of the rating system, those who lived in them had more difficulty getting home loans or upgrading their existing homes. Redlined neighborhoods were also targeted as prime locations for development of multi-unit buildings, industrial use, and freeway construction.

As expected, a 2019 paper by three researchers with the Chicago Federal Reserve Bank found:

a significant and persistent causal effect of the HOLC maps on the racial composition and housing development of urban neighborhoods. These patterns are consistent with the hypothesis that the maps led to reduced credit access and higher borrowing costs which, in turn, contributed to disinvestment in poor urban American neighborhoods with long-run repercussions.

What Hoffman, Shandas, and Pendleton establish in their paper is that this racially influenced mapping has also had real climate consequences.  Urban heat islands are not just randomly distributed through an urban area—they are more often than not located in redlined areas.  And those extra degrees of heat have real health and financial consequences. As Hoffman explains, the impact on residents of those heat islands is serious and wide-ranging:

“They are not only experiencing hotter heat waves with their associated health risks but also potentially suffering from higher energy bills, limited access to green spaces that alleviate stress and limited economic mobility at the same time,” Hoffman said. “Our study is just the first step in identifying a roadmap toward equitable climate resilience by addressing these systemic patterns in our cities.”

Redlining and climate change

Hoffman, Shandas, and Pendleton condensed the 239 HOLC maps into a database of 108 US cities.  They excluded cities that were not mapped with all four HOLC security rating categories and in some cases had to remove overlapping security rating boundaries, or merge them because they were drawn in different years.  The map below shows the location of the 108 cities.

They then used land surface temperature (LST) maps generated in summer months between 2014 and 2017 to estimate land surface temperatures in all four color-coded neighborhoods in each of these 108 cities to determine whether there was a relationship between LST and neighborhood rating in each city.

They found that present-day temperatures were noticeably higher in D-rated areas relative to A-rated areas in approximately 94 percent of the 108 cities.  The results are illustrated below. Figure a shows the LST difference between ranked neighborhoods for the country as a whole.  The four other figures do the same for each designated region of the country.

Portland, Oregon and Denver, Colorado had the greatest D to A temperature differences, with their D-rated areas some 7 degrees Celsius warmer than their A-rated areas (or some 13 degrees warmer in Fahrenheit).  For the nation as a whole, D-rated areas are now on average 2.6 degrees Celsius warmer than A-rated areas. Thus, as the authors note, “current maps of intra-urban heat echo the legacy of past planning policies.”   Moreover,

indicators of and/or higher intra-urban LSTs have been shown to correlate with higher summertime energy use, and excess mortality and morbidity. The fact that residents living in formerly redlined areas may face higher financial burdens due to higher energy and more frequent health bills further exacerbates the long-term and historical inequities of present and future climate change.

As this study so clearly shows, we are not all in the same boat when it comes to climate change; racial and class dimensions matter.  The poor and people of color are disproportionately suffering the most from global warming largely because of the way racism and profit-making combined to shape urbanization in the United States.  But this is only one example.  A transformative Green New Deal must bring to light the ways in which this dynamic has shaped countless other processes and embrace and support the struggles of frontline communities, economic and climate.

Flying Above the Clouds: the US Military and Climate Change

Climate change is occurring, highlighted by dramatically shifting weather patterns and ever more deadly storms, floods, droughts, and wildfires.  And the evidence is overwhelming that it is driven by the steady increase in greenhouse gases in our atmosphere, especially carbon dioxide and methane, produced by our fossil fuel-based economic system.

Aware of global warming’s deadly human consequences, millions of people have taken to the streets to demand that governments take action to end our use of fossil fuels as part of a massive system-wide economic transformation that would also be designed to ensure a just transition for all communities and workers.

As movements here in the US take aim at the fossil fuel industry and government leaders that continue to resist efforts to promote more sustainable and egalitarian forms of energy generation and distribution, transportation, agriculture, and housing, the largest generator of greenhouse gas emissions continues to fly above the clouds and largely out of public view.  As Neta Crawford, Co-Director of Brown University’s Costs of War Project, states in her recently published study of Pentagon fuel use and climate change, “the Department of Defense is the world’s largest institutional user of petroleum and correspondingly, the single largest producer of greenhouse gases in the world.”

Flying above the clouds

We know that we have an enormous military budget.  US military spending is greater than the total military spending of the next seven countries combined: China, Saudi Arabia, India, France, Russia, United Kingdom, and Germany.  The budget of the Department of Defense alone commands more than half of all US federal discretionary spending each year.  Add in spending on national security activities and weapons included in other departmental budgets, like that of the Department of Energy, and the military’s budget share approaches two-thirds of all discretionary spending.

This kind of information is readily available.  The US military’s contribution to global warming is not.  One reason is that because of US government pressure, the governments negotiating the Kyoto Protocol agreed that emissions generated by military activity would not count as national emissions and would not have to be reported.  That exemption remained in the agreement even though the US government never signed-on to the Kyoto Protocol.  Perhaps as a consequence, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change also does not include national military emissions in its calculations.  Although the Paris Accord removed the exemption, the US government is committed to withdrawing from the agreement in 2020.

Uncovering the carbon costs of the US military

Although the US military does not publicly disclose its fuel use, four researchers—Oliver Belcher, Benjamin Neimark, Patrick Bigger, and Cara Kennelly—using  multiple Freedom of Information Act requests to the US Defense Logistics Agency, have recently published an article that provides a good estimate.

The Defense Logistics Agency (DLA) is charged with overseeing the supply chain that supports all military activities, including its warfighting, peacekeeping, and base operations.  The Defense Logistics Agency–Energy (DLA-E), a unit within the DLA, has responsibility for managing the military’s energy requirements.  In the words of Belcher, Neimark, Bigger, and Kennelly, “the DLA-E is the one-stop shop for fueling purchases and contracts within the US military both domestically and internationally, and acts as the US military’s internal market for all consumables, including fuel.”

In simple terms, the military needs fuel—to fly its jets and bombers on surveillance or attack missions, to deliver troops and weapons to bases and areas of conflict, to power ships on maneuvers, to run the vehicles used by patrols and fighting forces, and to maintain base operations here and around the world. And because it is the DLA-E that secures and distributes the required fuel, the four researchers used “Freedom of Information Act requests to compile a database of DLA-E records for all known land, sea, and aircraft fuel purchases, as well as fuel contracts made with US operators in military posts, camps, stations, and ship bunkers abroad from FY 2013 to 2017.”  The resulting calculation of total fuel purchases and use served as the basis for the authors’ estimate of the military’s production of greenhouse gas emissions.

The US military runs on fuel

The fuel dependence of the US military has dramatically grown over time, largely as a consequence of the nature of its continually evolving weapons systems and warfighting strategies.  For example, average fuel use, by soldier, grew from one gallon a day during World War II, to nine gallons a day by the end of the Vietnam War, to 22 gallons a day in the wars currently being fought in Afghanistan and Iraq.

One reason for this upward trajectory is that the US military has come to depend ever more on airpower to directly threaten or attack its enemies as well as support its heavily armored ground forces operating in foreign countries. As Crawford explains, the US military consumes so much energy because “its fighting ‘tooth’ employs equipment that guzzles fuel at an incredible rate . . . [and its] logistical ‘tail’ and the installations that support operations are also extremely fuel intensive.”

For example, Crawford reports that the fuel consumption of a B-2 Bomber is 4.28 gallons to the mile.  Read that carefully–that is gallons to the mile, not the more common miles to the gallon.  The fuel consumption of a F-35A Fighter bomber is 2.37 gallons to the mile, while it is 4.9 miles to the gallon for a KC-135R Refueling Tanker (loaded with transfer fuel).  “Even the military’s non-armored vehicles are notoriously inefficient. For instance, the approximately 60,000 HUMVEEs remaining in the US Army fleet get between four to eight miles per gallon of diesel fuel.”

Needless to say, an active military will burn through a lot of fuel.  And as Belcher, Neimark, Bigger, and Kennelly point out, the US military has indeed been busy: “Between 2015 and 2017, the US military was active in 76 countries, including seven countries on the receiving end of air/drone strikes, 15 countries with ‘boots on the ground,’ 44 overseas military bases, and 56 countries receiving counter-terrorism training.”

The carbon footprint of the US military

Belcher, Neimark, Bigger, and Kennelly determined that “the US military consumes more liquid fuels and emits more CO2e (carbon-Dioxide equivalent) than many medium-sized countries.”  Comparing 2014 country liquid fuel consumption with US military liquid fuel consumption revealed that the US military, if treated as a country, would rank between Peru and Portugal.  The US military’s 2014 greenhouse gas emissions, just from its use of fuel, was roughly equal “to total–not just fuel-–emissions from Romania.”  That year, the US military, again just from its fuel use, was the 47th largest emitter of greenhouse gases in the world, and not far behind a host of other countries.

The US military’s ranking would be higher if its other emissions were included, such as from the electricity and food the military consumes, or the land use changes from military operations.  And of course, none of this includes the emissions from the many corporations engaged in producing weapons for the military. In 2017, the US military purchased about 269,230 barrels of oil a day and emitted 25,375.8 kt-CO2e by burning those fuels.

One reason that the US military is such a large greenhouse gas emitter is that most of its fuel is jet fuel procured for use by the Air Force or Navy.  Their planes burn the fuel at extremely high altitudes, which “produces different kinds of chemical reactions, resulting in warming 2–4 times greater than on the ground.”

The military’s response to climate change

The military is well aware of the dangers of climate change—in contrast to many of our leading politicians.  One reason is that it threatens its operational readiness. As Crawford explains:

In early 2018, the DOD reported that about half of their installations had already experienced climate change related effects. A year later, the DOD reported that the US military is already experiencing the effects of global warming at dozens of installations. These include recurrent flooding (53 installations), drought (43 installations), wildfires (36 installations) and desertification (6 installations).

But most importantly, the military sees climate change as a threat to US national security.  For years, the military has considered the impact of climate change in its defense planning because, as a recent report from the Office of the Director of National Intelligence puts it, “global environmental and ecological degradation, as well as climate change, are likely to fuel competition for resources, economic distress, and social discontent through 2019 and beyond.”  Of course, in planning responses to possible climate-generated threats to US interests, the military remains committed to strengthening its capacity for action, even though doing so adds to the likelihood of greater climate chaos.

In short, people are right to demand that governments take meaningful and immediate steps to stop global warning.  And those steps need to include significant reductions in military spending as well as overseas bases and interventions.  Since the US military is the single largest producer of greenhouse gases in the world, the fight to reign in militarism in this country is especially important.  As an added benefit, the money freed could be put to good use helping to finance the broader system-wide transformation required to create an ecologically responsive economy.

What the New Deal can teach us about winning a Green New Deal: Part V—summing up the New Deal experience

Growing awareness of our ever-worsening climate crisis has boosted the popularity of movements calling for a Green New Deal.  At present, the Green New Deal is a big tent idea, grounded to some extent by its identification with the original New Deal and emphasis on the need for strong state action to initiate social-system change on a massive scale.  Challenges abound for Green New Deal activists.  Among the many, how to:

  • create supportive working relationships between the different movements currently pushing for a Green New Deal
  • develop a sharper, shared vision of the aims of a Green New Deal
  • increase popular support for those aims as well as participation in those movements
  • build sufficient political power to force a change in state policy along lines favorable to the Green New Deal
  • ensure that the resulting trajectory of change strengthens the broader struggle to achieve a socially just and ecologically sustainable political-economy

While there are great differences between the crises and political movements and possibilities of the 1930s and now, there are also important lessons that can be learned from the efforts of activists to build mass movements for social transformation during the Great Depression.  My aim in this series, including in this fifth and last post, is to illuminate the challenges faced and choices made by these activists in order to draw out some of the relevant lessons.

In previous posts I argued that the despite the severity of the Great Depression, it took sustained, left-led, mass organizing and actions to force the federal government to accept responsibility for improving economic conditions.  Unfortunately, First New Deal relief and job creation policies were inadequate, far from what the growing movement of unemployed demanded or was needed to meet majority needs.  However, continued mass activity by the unemployed, those on relief, and those employed eventually forced the Roosevelt administration to undertake a Second New Deal, which included its widely praised programs for public works (WPA), social security (Social Security Act), and union rights (National Labor Relations Act).

These Second New Deal programs were unprecedented and did improve conditions for working people.  But, as I argue in this final post, both the WPA and the Social Security Act again fell short of the transformative changes demanded by activists.  And while the NLRA did offer workers important legal protections that made it safer for them to unionize their workplaces, its effect was to encourage a top-down system of labor-management relations that suppressed rank and file activism and class consciousness. Thus, despite their pathbreaking nature, these programs were far from revolutionary.  Rather they were designed to ameliorate the suffering caused by capitalism’s crisis without threatening capitalist control over economic activity.

Tragically, changes in the political and economic environment, as well as strategic choices made by the left in response to those changes led to the weakening of popular movements, leaving them unable to push the Roosevelt administration into yet a Third New Deal.  As a result, the upsurge of the 1930s failed to advance the socialist-inspired transformation that motivated many of its participants. In the end, it proved only able to force the state to adopt policies that reformed the workings of the system, a not inconsiderable achievement, but one that still left working people vulnerable to the vicissitudes of capitalism.  Hopefully, a careful study of the New Deal experience will help Green New Deal activists build movements able to avoid the trap of limited reform while fighting for the massive, interconnected, and empowering social-system change we so desperately need.

The Second New Deal

It is easy to understand why supporters of a Green New Deal look to the New Deal as a touchstone.  Growing numbers of people have come to the conclusion that our problems are too big to be solved by individual or local efforts alone, and that once again innovative and transformative state-led actions will be needed to solve them.  Quite simply, the New Deal experience inspires people to believe in the possibility of a Green New Deal.

When people talk about the innovative and transformative policies of the New Deal they normally mean the core policies of the Second New Deal: the WPA, the Social Security Act, and the National Labor Relations Act.  As innovative as these policies were, they were, as discussed in Part IV, largely forced on the Roosevelt Administration by left-led mass movements.  And, as we see next, they were, by design, meant to blunt more radical demands for change.  In short, they were important reforms, but no more than reforms, and as such offered only partial solutions to the problems of the time.  Sadly, workers today continue to suffer from their limitations.

Works Progress Administration

One of the most important Second New Deal programs was the Works Progress Administration (WPA). Established in May 1935, it employed millions of unemployed to carry out public projects such as construction of public buildings and roads.  Federal Project Number One, a much smaller program that also operated under the WPA umbrella, employed musicians, artists, writers, actors and directors in large arts, drama, media, and literacy projects. These included the Federal Writers’ Project, the Federal Theatre Project, the Federal Music Project, and the Federal Art Project.

Roosevelt’s decision to replace the Federal Emergency Relief Administration (FERA) with the WPA was a clear sign that he recognized that his First New Deal employment and relief programs — FERA and the Civil Works Administration (CWA) — had done little to satisfy fast growing left-led unemployed movements that were demanding a federal jobs program under which unemployed workers would be directly put to work, at union wages, producing a wide range of needed goods and services.

FERA had provided loans and grants to states which then offered relief work to those that qualified for relief.  As discussed in Part III, the program required workers to submit to demeaning financial investigations, often paid those chosen for relief with coupons that could only be redeemed for select food items, made no attempt to match worker skills with jobs, and often employed those on relief in make-work tasks.  While FERA marked the first direct federal support for relief and enabled states to greatly expand their relief rolls, it also required states to provide matching funds to receive FERA money.  Limited state resources meant that relief covered only about one-third of those unemployed.

CWA was a far more popular program, most importantly because it involved direct federal employment, had no relief requirement, paid relatively well, and sought to match workers’ skills with jobs.  However, it was, by design, a short-term program that lasted only 6 months, with most employment creation ending after 4 months.

The WPA was a federal program that operated its own projects in cooperation with state and local governments, which were required to cover some 10 to 30 percent of their costs.  In some cases, the WPA took over ongoing FERA state and local relief programs.  But, despite its impressive accomplishments, it also fell short of movement demands.

Although the WPA combined elements of both FERA and the CWA, it was far more like the former than the latter. For example, in contrast to the CWA, participation in WPA projects required a state means test.  Thus, unemployment alone was not enough to qualify a person for the program.  Moreover, as under FERA, participants were subject to demeaning monitoring of their spending habits and living conditions.

Again. unlike the CWA, little effort was made to match workers’ skills with jobs.  Workers were divided into two broad categories of skilled and unskilled.  The unskilled were assigned construction jobs even if they had no construction experience.  The skilled were assigned a variety of writing or teaching jobs regardless of whether they had experience in those areas.  The program did pay market wages.  However, limits were put on maximum allowable hours of weekly employment in addition to an overall limit on total earnings.

WPA employment opportunities were also limited.  Its average monthly employment was approximately 3 million workers.  The CWA, at its peak, employed over 4 million a month.  The WPA, like FERA, employed only about one-third of the unemployed.  Moreover, because of unstable program financing, even those employed by the WPA would sometimes suffer layoffs.

The unemployed movement wanted a permanent federal employment program that would guarantee full employment.  And they wanted that program to employ people to produce needed goods and services as a direct counter to private production.  This was far from the vision of the Roosevelt administration.  As Harry Hopkins, chief administrator of the WPA, explained:

Policy from the first was not to compete with private business. Hence we could neither work on private property, set up a rival merchandising system, nor form a work outlet through manufacturing, even though manufacturing had contributed to relief rolls hundreds of thousands of workers accustomed to operating machines and to doing nothing else for a living.

Operating under these limits, the WPA had little choice but to focus its efforts on the construction of public buildings and roads.  Post offices accounted for close to half of the more than 3000 public buildings constructed.

Moreover, despite its limitations, the unemployed had to fight to sustain the program.  Congress decided to provide funds for the program one year at a time.  Sometimes allocations fell short of planned spending, resulting in layoffs.   Other times, militant demonstrations by an alliance of unemployed groups forced Congress into making supplemental appropriations.

The number of public works projects and WPA participants began a steady decline in 1939.  The next year the Roosevelt administration decided to reorient program activity to projects of direct use to the military, including construction of base housing and military airfields as well as expansion of naval yards. The WPA was quietly terminated in 1943, with unemployment problems seemingly solved thanks to the demands of wartime production.  Sadly, the unemployed never developed the political weight or broader social movement needed to push the government into embracing a more expansive and ongoing program of national planning and public production.

The Social Security Act

The Social Security Act is widely considered to be the New Deal’s crown jewel.  According to his Secretary of Labor, “[President Roosevelt] always regarded the Social Security Act as the cornerstone of his administration . . . and . . . took greater satisfaction from it than from anything else he achieved on the domestic front.”

Roosevelt appointed a Committee on Economic Security in July 1934 with the charge to develop a social security bill that he could present to Congress in January 1935 that would include provisions for both unemployment insurance and old-age security.  An administration approved bill was in fact introduced in January and Roosevelt called for quick Congressional action.  The bill was revised in April by a House committee and given a new name, “The Social Security Act.”  After additional revisions the Social Security Act was approved by overwhelming majorities in both Houses of Congress, and the legislation was signed by the President on August 14, 1935.

The Social Security Act was a complex piece of legislation.  It included what we now call Social Security, a federal old-age benefit program; a program of unemployment benefits administered by the states, and a program of federal grants to states to fund benefits for the needy elderly and aid to dependent children.  It was a cautious beginning, as explained by Edwin E. Witte, the Executive Director and Secretary of the President’s Committee on Economic Security:

Because we were in the midst of a deep depression, the Administration and Congress were very anxious to avoid placing too great burdens on business and also to avoid adding to Government deficits. It was these considerations that resulted in the low beginning social security tax rates and the step-plan of the introduction of both old-age and unemployment insurance and also in the establishment of completely self-financed social insurance programs, without Government contributions–to this day a distinctive feature of social insurance in this country.

Before examining the way Roosevelt’s concerns for the well-being of business placed limits on the timeliness, coverage, and support provided by these programs, it is important to recognize that, as with the WPA, Roosevelt’s commitment to social security was a response to the efforts of the Communist Party (CP), which authored a far more progressive bill, one that would have significantly shifted the balance of class power towards workers.

The CP began pushing its Workers Unemployment Insurance Bill in the summer of 1930, and it, as well as the Unemployment Councils, worked hard to promote it over the following years.  On March 4, 1933, the day of Roosevelt’s inauguration, they organized demonstrations stressing the need for action on unemployment insurance.

Undeterred by Roosevelt’s lack of action, the CP authored a bill–the Workers Unemployment and Social Insurance Bill–that was introduced in Congress in February 1934 by Representative Ernest Lundeen of the Farmer-Labor Party.  In broad brush, as Chris Wright summarizes, the bill:

provided for unemployment insurance for workers and farmers (regardless of age, sex, or race) that was to be equal to average local wages but no less than $10 per week plus $3 for each dependent; people compelled to work part-time (because of inability to find full-time jobs) were to receive the difference between their earnings and the average local full-time wages; commissions directly elected by members of workers’ and farmers’ organizations were to administer the system; social insurance would be given to the sick and elderly, and maternity benefits would be paid eight weeks before and eight weeks after birth; and the system would be financed by unappropriated funds in the Treasury and by taxes on inheritances, gifts, and individual and corporate incomes above $5,000 a year. Later iterations of the bill went into greater detail on how the system would be financed and managed.

Not surprisingly, the bill enjoyed strong support among workers, employed and unemployed.  Thanks to the efforts of unemployed and union activists it was soon endorsed by 5 international unions, 35 central labor bodies, and more than 3000 local unions.  Rank and file worker committees also formed across the country to pressure members of Congress to pass it.

When Congress refused to act on the bill, Lundeen reintroduced it in January 1935. Because of public pressure, the bill became the first unemployment insurance plan in US history to be recommended by a congressional committee, in this case the House Labor Committee.  It was voted down in the full House of Representatives, 204 to 52.

Roosevelt strongly opposed the Lundeen bill and it was to provide a counter that he established his Committee on Economic Security in July 1934 and pressed Congress to approve the resulting Social Security Act as quickly as possible.  Roosevelt’s Social Security Act fell far short of what the Workers Unemployment and Social Insurance Bill offered, and it was strongly opposed by movement activists and organizations of the unemployed.

The part of the bill that established what we now call Social Security suffered from five main weaknesses.  First, it was to be self-financing because of administration fears of deficit spending, a decision which placed downward pressure on benefit levels.  Second, it was to be financed by contributions from both workers and employers.  Thus, workers had to shoulder half the costs of the program.

Third, the system was not universal.  The act covered only workers in commerce and industry, about half the jobs in the economy.  Among those left out were farm and domestic workers.

Fourth, the act provided for monthly retirement benefits payable only to the primary worker in a family when they retired at age 65 or older. Moreover, the amount received depended on the value of wages earned in covered employment starting in 1937.

Finally, the act mandated that monthly benefit payments would not begin until 1942.  A 1939 amendment did allow benefit payments to begin in 1940 and added child, spouse, and survivor benefits to the authorized retirement benefits.

In sum, this was a program that offered too little, too late, and to too few people.  And while improvements were made over the years, the current system pales in comparison to the kind of security and humane retirement workers would have enjoyed if the workers’ movement had been powerful enough to secure passage of its preferred bill.

The unemployment system established as part of the Social Security Act was also structured in ways unfavorable to workers compared with the proposed benefits of the Workers Unemployment and Social Insurance Bill.  Rather than set up a comprehensive national system of unemployment compensation, as workers desired, the act established a federal-state cooperative system that gave states wide latitude in determining standards.

More specifically, the act levied a uniform national pay-roll tax of 1 percent in 1936, 2 percent in 1937, and 3 percent in 1938, on covered employers, defined as those employers with eight or more employees for at least twenty weeks, not including government employers and employers in agriculture.  Only workers employed by a covered employer could receive benefits.

Covered employers were given a federal credit on up to 90 percent of the tax if they paid their credit amount into a certified state unemployment compensation fund.  The act left it to the states to decide whether to enact their own plans, and if so, to determine eligibility conditions, the waiting period to receive benefits, benefit amounts, minimum and maximum benefit levels, duration of benefits, disqualifications, and other administrative matters. It was not until 1937 that programs were established in every state as well as the then-territories of Alaska and Hawaii.  And it was not until 1938 that most began paying benefits.

In the early years, most states required eligible workers to wait 2 to 4 weeks before drawing benefits, which were commonly set at half recent earnings (subject to weekly maximums) for a period ranging from 12 to 16 weeks. Ten state laws called for employee contributions as well as employer contributions.

Just like with social security, over the following years the program was expanded in a number of positive ways, including by expanding coverage and benefits.  However, the unemployment program established by the Social Security Act fell far short of the universal, progressively funded social safety net that workers were demanding.

The National Labor Relations Act

In the spring of 1934, Senator Robert Wagner introduced a bill to establish a new labor relations board that, unlike the one established by the First New Deal’s National Industrial Recovery Act (NIRA), would have enforcement authority.  Few in Congress supported the bill; President Roosevelt also opposed it.

Wagner reintroduced a revised version of his bill a year later and to a dramatically different outcome.  In May 1935 it received unanimous support in the Senate Labor Committee, followed by strong support in both the Senate and House.  As reported by the editors of Who Built America?, President Roosevelt remained opposed to the bill up until the very end:

“It ought to be on the record,” his labor secretary noted, that the bill was “not a part of the President’s program.  It did not particularly appeal to him when it was described to him.”  But when the US Supreme Court struck down the NIRA in May and Wagner’s National Labor Relations bill was passed by one house of Congress, FDR finally endorsed the bill.

In broad brush, the National Labor Relations Act established a set of laws and regulations designed to guarantee the right of private sector workers to peacefully organize into trade unions of their choosing and engage in collective bargaining and actions such as strikes.  The act also created the National Labor Relations Board to organize and oversee the process by which workers decide on whether to join a union as well as determine whether collective bargaining agreements are being fairly bargained and enforced.

The turnaround in support for the NLRA owes much to the growing militancy of workers, and the threat that this militancy posed to the established order.  Section 7a of the NIRA had promised workers that they would “have the right to organize and bargain collectively through representatives of their own choosing . . . free from the interference, restraint, or coercion of employers.”  Unfortunately, with no mechanism to ensure that workers would be able to exercise this right, after a short period of successful union organizing, companies began violently repressing genuine union activity. By 1935, growing numbers of workers were calling the National Recovery Administration (NRA), which had been established to oversee the NIRA, the National Run Around.

However, it was not the corporate campaign of violence directed against workers that was the catalyst for the change in government policy.  Rather it was the explosion of powerful left-led worker victories in three major labor struggles in early 1934.  The first was in Toledo, Ohio, where American Workers’ Party sponsored unemployed organizations joined with striking auto workers seeking to unionize a major auto parts manufacturer.  The workers battled special deputies and National Guard troops for weeks, maintaining an effective strike.  Fearful of the possibility of an even larger strike, the Roosevelt administration finally sent federal mediators to Toledo, forcing the company to recognize the union and agree to significant wage increases.

At almost the same time, an even bigger struggle began in Minneapolis. A Trotskyist-led Teamster local, fighting to unionize a number of trucking and warehouse companies, effectively shut down commercial transport in the city.  Days of violence followed as police and special deputies tried to break the strike.  Faced with a growing threat of a general strike, federal mediators again were forced to intervene, and again forced the employers to recognize the union.

A general strike did take place in San Francisco.  Led by Communist and other radical rank and file activists, San Francisco longshoremen rejected a secretly negotiated deal between the national leadership of the International Longshoremen’s Association and the waterfront employers.  Their strike was quickly joined by dockworkers in every other West Coast port as well as many sailors and waterfront truckers.

Police attempts to break the San Francisco strike led to a full-scale battle and the death of two strikers by police on what became known as Bloody Thursday.  In response, the labor movement declared a general strike.  Some 150,000 workers went out, essentially bringing San Francisco, Oakland, Berkeley and other nearby municipalities, to a halt.  Again, federal intervention was required to bring the strike to a halt, with a victory for the workers.

These struggles, all with important left leadership, showed a dramatic growth in worker militancy, solidarity, and radicalism that sent shock waves throughout the corporate community as well as the government.  And it was to head off the further radicalization of the labor movement that the Congress and Roosevelt agreed to support the NLRA and its mechanisms to regularize the unionization process.  In the words of Steve Fraser:

The Wagner Act helped institutionalize a form of industrial democracy that steered clear of any frontal assault on the underlying political economy. It legitimated collective bargaining, imposed responsibilities on both management and trade union officialdom, and worked to establish peace on the shop floor.

Union leaders were to police their members, instilling a disciplined commitment to the terms of the contract. Control of life on the shop-floor remained with management. Militants who thought otherwise were soon enough reigned in. The much-maligned (not without cause) trade union bureaucracy was, after all, the fruit of a mass movement, an institution, created where there had been nothing, the slowly solidified residue of fiery desires.

For a few years, it appeared that worker militancy, a willingness to directly challenge corporate rights with no concern for issues of legality, would continue despite the NLRB’s existence.  For example, in early 1936 rubber workers in Akron, Ohio disregarded both union leadership and a court injunction to surround the eleven-mile perimeter of a Goodyear plant with pickets.  They shut down the plant in protest over recent wage cuts and layoffs of activists and rejected federal attempts at mediation.  When word came that the sheriff might come with armed deputies to open the plat, the strikers armed themselves.  Finally, after four weeks, Goodyear settled, agreeing to reinstate the fired workers, reduce the workweek, and recognize the authority of union shop committees.

Not long after, inspired by the rubber workers, auto workers began staging walk-outs and strikes at several different Chrysler and GM plants over firings and unionization.  The biggest action came at the end of 1936 with the Flint sit-down strike.  The workers held the plant for 44 days, during which time they fought off attempts by armed police to evict them and ignored injunctions issued by the courts demanding that they leave.  In the end GM agreed to recognize the UAW as the exclusive bargaining representative for all GM workers.

The number of strikes grew dramatically from 2,014 in 1935 to 4,740 in 1937, with workers increasingly winning unionization not through the machinery of the NLRA, but through direct action.  For example, the number of sit-down strikes lasting more than a day grew from 48 in 1936 to some 500 in 1937.

Unfortunately, this upward trajectory of militant, class conscious activity would not be sustained.  The reasons are complex.  One part of the explanation concerns the evolving political orientation of the CP.  Responding to the new strategic orientation of the Communist International, which stressed the importance of building coalitions with all progressive and liberal forces to check the rise of fascism, the CP began pursuing an anti-fascist popular front policy that included support for Roosevelt’s 1936 re-election and the New Deal more generally.

This new orientation also translated into an increasingly conservative line regarding labor activism.  Party activists were encouraged not only to support the new CIO union leadership but also to oppose militant organizing tactics.  As Frances Fox Piven and Richard A. Cloward describe:

The Communists, by now well into their Popular Front phase and some of them into the union bureaucracy as well, endorsed the call for union discipline. Wyndham Mortimer issued a statement early in 1937 saying: “Sit-down strikes should be resorted to only when absolutely necessary.” And the Flint Auto Worker, edited by Communist Henry Kraus, editorialized that “the problem is not to foster strikes and labor trouble. The union can only grow on the basis of established procedure and collective bargaining.”

At the same time, corporate leaders were taking direct aim at the new labor reforms.  One of their first big victories was a 1938 Supreme Court ruling that said companies had the right to hire permanent replacement workers when workers went on strike.  The following year it ruled sit-down strikes illegal, even if undertaken in response to an illegal corporate action.

States also joined in.  In 1939, as Piven and Cloward report:

state legislatures began to pass laws prohibiting some kinds of strikes and secondary boycotts, limiting picketing, outlawing the closed shop, requiring the registration of unions, limiting the amount of dues unions could charge, and providing stiff jail terms for violations of the new offenses. By 1947 almost all of the states had passed legislation imposing at least some of these limitations.

Finally, corporate leaders also launched an anti-Communist attack against union activists, especially those in leadership positions in the newly created unions of the CIO.  Their efforts were amplified by House Un-American Activities Committee hearings which began in 1938.  The 1947 Taft–Hartley Act codified all these developments, outlawing wildcat strikes, solidarity or political strikes, secondary boycotts, secondary and mass picketing, and closed shops, as well as requiring union officers to sign non-communist affidavits as a condition for their union to secure NLRA rights.

In sum, as left and union leadership began to rely ever more heavily on the NLRA to win gains for workers, corporate and political elites began aggressively narrowing the acceptable boundaries of legal action.  As a consequence, although there would still be periods of worker militancy, the frequency of rank and file-led actions, open rebellion against the law, and moments of cross-union and class solidarity became increasingly rare.  Thus, the NLRB succeeded, as its supporters hoped, in creating a more stable system of labor relations that was consistent with and supportive of the needs of capitalist production.

The Movement’s Decline

The workers movement of the 1930s was a mass movement that, thanks to left leadership, encouraged class solidarity and support for a program of radical social change.  The movement was, as described in this and past posts, powerful enough to force the Roosevelt administration into adopting successively more progressive programs that, although flawed, did improve working and living conditions for many.

However, even as its different political tendencies began to unify, creating a national organization of the unemployed, the movement began to suffer a loss of militancy and vision that left it unable to further influence political developments.  As a consequence, the reforms of the Second New Deal came to define the limits of change.

In 1934 the Communist Party organized Unemployed Councils tightened their organizational form, finally adopting a written constitution.  In early 1935, Socialist Party organized unemployed organizations and a number of Musteite organized Unemployed Leagues joined together to create a national organization of the unemployed, the Workers Alliance.  The following year, the Workers Alliance reached agreement with the Unemployed Councils and several other small unemployed organizations to form a new, larger national organization of the unemployed, the Workers Alliance of America (WAA). This unity was possible in large part because of the CP’s newly adopted popular front policy which led it to seek alliances with other political tendencies and groups that were seen as anti-fascist.  This included the Socialist Party and Muste’s Conference for Progressive Labor Action and their associated movements of unemployed.

The Workers Alliance of America, critical of the WPA, continued to fight for the unemployed and those on relief.  For example, when the Roosevelt administration announced planned cuts in WPA employment for 1937, the organization organized a number of sit-ins and demonstrations at city relief offices throughout the country.  The President, under pressure from big city mayors, rescinded the cuts.

However, defending an existing program is not the same as winning a new, improved one.  And this the movement could not do for several reasons.  One is that the rank and file base of the unemployed movement was shrinking because of the growth in the economy and the expansion in relief opportunities.  Another is that many of the movement’s most experienced activists were now employed as organizers in the growing trade union movement.

A third reason is that changes in the relief system undermined the movement’s ability to mobilize the unemployed and win gains through collective action.  The system had become professionalized, with relief officials in city after city establishing rules about the size of delegations that would be allowed in offices and the number of times each week that delegations could seek meetings with officials. Moreover, relief office workers were instructed not to meet clients if they were accompanied by a delegation or grant relief if a delegation was present in the office.

This left local unemployed organizers in the position of either accepting the new ground rules to ensure that their members received relief or continuing their mass activity hoping that their old strategy would be more effective in winning gains.   Increasingly, members advocated for the former, leaving organizers with no choice.  In fact, as a sign of the growing sophistication of the New Deal relief effort, a number of relief offices actually offered jobs to local activists with the unemployed movement with the promise that they could help make the system work more efficiently and effectively for those seeking relief.  In many cases, those offers were accepted.

Perhaps the most important reason for the movement’s growing political weakness was the Communist Party’s decision to pursue an alliance with the Roosevelt administration as part of its anti-fascist popular front policy.  This led the party to organize support for Roosevelt’s 1936 election and his New Deal policies, and to deemphasize oppositional and militant mass actions in support of social transformation in favor of more established political activity such as petition drives and lobbying for improvements in existing programs. In fact, hoping to win Roosevelt’s good will, the CP often organized rallies designed to show worker support for the WPA and other New Deal programs.  Roosevelt was actually invited to give the main speech at the WAA’s second annual convention.  When he turned down the invitation the honor was given to the WPA’s Director of Labor Relations. In 1938, WAA locals even campaigned for pro-New Deal candidates.

Increasingly the WAA became integrated into the New Deal.  As Piven and Cloward point out:

The [WAA became] recognized as the official bargaining agent for WPA workers, and alliance leaders now corresponded frequently with WPA administrators, communicating a host of complaints, and discussing innumerable procedural questions regarding WPA administrative regulations. Some of the complaints were major, having to do with pay cuts and arbitrary layoffs. Much of the correspondence, however, had to do with minute questions of procedure, and especially with the question of whether WPA workers were being allowed to make up the time lost while attending alliance meetings. Alliance leaders also wrote regularly to the president, reviewing the economic situation for him, deploring cuts in WPA, and calling for an expansion of the program.

The WAA continued to make demands on the administration, drafting their own bills calling for greater public spending and employment at union wages, advocating for their own far more sweeping social insurance program, and calling for the establishment of a national planning agency to oversee a permanent public works program.  But the movement no longer threatened Roosevelt, and its demands were largely ignored.  The WAA dissolved itself in 1941.

The labor movement, riding the growth in the economy, soon replaced the unemployed movement as the most powerful social force for change.  However, for reasons noted above, it also underwent its own moderation despite the efforts of rank and file activists.  For example, CIO leaders established Labor’s Non-Partisan League in 1936 to support President Roosevelt’s reelection and his New Deal program. World War II; the post-war vicious anti-communist attacks on all critics of capitalism, especially in the labor movement; and the strength of the post-war economic expansion finally buried the promise of a radical transformation.  There would be no transformative Third New Deal.

Lessons

The New Deal experience holds a number of important lessons for those advocating a Green New Deal.  First, the existence or even recognition of a crisis cannot be counted on to motivate a change in government policy if that change threatens the status quo.  It took years of mass organizing to force the federal government to acknowledge its responsibility to respond to the devastating social consequences of the Great Depression.  The challenge will be even greater today since, as opposed to the 1930s, the capitalist class continues to enjoy lucrative opportunities for profit-making.

Second, a broad-base mass movement that threatens the stability of the system can force a significant change in government policy.  The driving force for change in the 1930s was the movement of unemployed, and its early power came from the Communist Party’s ability to establish a network of local Unemployed Councils that provided unemployed workers with the opportunity to better understand the cause of their hard times, build class solidarity through collective actions in defense of local needs, and become part of broader campaigns for public policies on the national level that were directly responsive to their local concerns.

It is likely that activists for a Green New Deal will have to engage in a similar process of movement building if they hope to force a meaningful government response to our current crises.  Despite the fact that we face a number of interrelated social, economic, and ecological crises, activists must still find ways to weave together different local organizations engaged in collective actions in defense of their local needs into a nation-wide political force able to project a vision of responsive system change as well as define and fight for associated policies.

Third, government responses to political pressure can be expected to fall far short of movement demands for transformative change.  The Roosevelt administration’s First New Deal programs fell far short of what working people demanded and needed.  It took sustained organizing to win a Second New Deal, which while better, was still inadequate.  It the movement for a Green New Deal succeeds in forcing government action, it is safe to assume that, much as in the 1930s, the policies implemented will be partial and inadequate.  Thus, movement activists have to prepare participants for a long, and ongoing campaign of mobilization, organizational development, and pressure.

Fourth, because of the importance of government policy and the natural attraction of wanting to exert personal influence on it, movement activists must remain vigilant against becoming too tied to the government bureaucracy, thereby losing their political independence and weakening the movement’s capacity to continue pushing for further changes in state policy.  WAA leaders understandably wanted to influence New Deal policy, but their growing embrace of the Roosevelt administration, pursued for broader political objectives as well, ended up weakening the movement’s organizational strengthen and effectiveness and perhaps even more importantly, vision of a more egalitarian and democratic society. Green New Deal activists can be expected to face the same kind of pressures if a progressive government comes to power and begins to initiate its own reform program and movements must be alert to the danger.

Fifth, and finally, movements have to be careful not to become too policy oriented. The New Deal included a number of different programs each designed to address different problems.  This created a natural tendency for the different organizations that comprised the broader social movement to narrow their own focus and concentrate on finding ways to respond to the policy shortcomings that most affected their members.  Thus, while the unemployed, those on relief, and those fighting for unionization initially shared a sense of common struggle, over time, in large measure because of their success in winning reforms, they became separate movements, each with their own separate concerns. As a consequence, the overall power, unity, and commitment of the broader social movement for massive societal change was weakened.

This is a challenge that the movement for a Green New Deal can expect to face if it is successful enough to force meaningful government reforms, especially given the multiplicity of the challenges the country faces. The only way to minimize this challenge is to ensure that movement organizing, from the very beginning, encourages participants to see the need for the broader transformative change inspired by the notion of a Green New Deal, and to draw from their struggle an ever more concrete understanding of how that change can be advanced and how real improvement in their lives depends on its achievement.

What the New Deal can teach us about winning a Green New Deal: Part III—the First New Deal

In Part I and Part II of this series on lessons to be learned from the New Deal I argued that despite the severity of the Great Depression, sustained organizing was required to transform the national political environment and force the federal government to accept direct responsibility for financing relief and job creation programs. In this post, I begin an examination of the evolution and aims of New Deal programs in order to highlight the complex and conflictual nature of a state-directed reform process.

The New Deal is often talked about as if it were a set of interconnected programs that were introduced at one moment in time to reinvigorate national economic activity and ameliorate the hardships faced by working people.  Advocates for a Green New Deal, which calls for a new state-led “national, social, industrial, and economic mobilization” to confront our multiple interlocking problems, tend to reinforce this view of the New Deal.  It is easy to understand why: state action is desperately needed, and pointing to a time in history when it appears that the state rose to the occasion, developing and implementing the programs necessary to solve a crisis, makes it easier for people to envision and support another major effort.

Unfortunately, this view misrepresents the experience of the New Deal.  And, to the extent it influences our approach to shaping and winning a Green New Deal, it weakens our ability to successfully organize and promote the kind of state action we want.

The New Deal actually encompasses two different periods; the First New Deal was begun in 1933, the Second New Deal in 1935.  In both periods, the programs designed to respond to working class concerns fell far short of popular demands.  In fact, it was continued mass organizing, spearheaded by an increasingly unified unemployed movement and an invigorated trade union movement, that pushed the Roosevelt administration to initiate its Second New Deal, which included new and significantly more progressive initiatives.

Unfortunately, as those social movements lost energy and vision in the years that followed, pressure on the state for further change largely abated, leaving the final reforms won compromised and vulnerable to future attack.   The lesson from this history for those advocating for a Green New Deal is clear: winning a Green New Deal requires, in addition to carefully constructed policy demands, an approach to movement building that prepares people for a long struggle to overcome expected state efforts to resist the needed transformative changes.

The First New Deal

Roosevelt’s initial policies were largely consistent with those of the previous Hoover administration.  Like Hoover, he sought to stabilize the banking system and balance the budget.  On his first day in office Roosevelt declared a national bank “holiday,” dismissing Congressional sentiment for bank nationalization.  He then rushed through a new law, the Emergency Banking Act, which gave the Comptroller of the Currency, the Secretary of the Treasury, and the Federal Reserve new powers to ensure that reopened banks would remain financially secure.

On his sixth day in office, he requested that Congress cut $500 million from the $3.6 billion federal budget, eliminate government agencies, reduce the salaries of civilian and military federal workers, and slash veterans’ benefits by 50 percent.  Congressional resistance led to spending cuts of “only” $243 million.

Roosevelt remained committed, against the advice of many of his most trusted advisers, to balanced budget policies for most of the decade.  While his administration did boost government spending to nearly double the levels of the Hoover administration, it also collected sufficient taxes to keep deficits low.  It wasn’t until 1938 that Roosevelt proposed a Keynesian-style deficit spending plan.

At the same time, facing escalating demands for action from the unemployed as well as many elected city leaders, Roosevelt also knew that the status quo was politically untenable.  And, in an effort to halt the deepening depression and growing militancy of working people, he pursued a dizzying array of initiatives, most within his first 100 days in office.  The great majority were aimed at stabilizing or reforming markets, which Roosevelt believed was the best way to restore business confidence, investment, and growth.  This emphasis is clear from the following list of some of his most important initiatives.

  • The Agricultural Adjustment Act (May 1933). The act sought to boost the prices of agricultural goods. The government bought livestock and paid subsidies to farmers in exchange for reduced planting. It also created the Agricultural Adjustment Administration to manage the payment of subsidies.
  • The Securities Act of 1933 (May 1933). The act sought to restore confidence in the stock market by requiring that securities issuers disclose all information necessary for investors to be able to make informed investment decisions.
  • The Home Owners’ Loan Act of 1933 (June 1933). The act sought to stabilize the finance industry and housing industry by providing mortgage assistance to homeowners. It created the Home Owners Loan Corporation which was authorized to issue bonds and loans to help homeowners in financial difficulties pay their mortgages, back taxes, and insurance.
  • The Banking Act of 1933 (June 1933). The act separated commercial and investment banking and created the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation to insure bank deposits, curb bank runs, and reduce bank failures.
  • Farm Credit Act (June 1933). The act established the Farm Credit System as a group of cooperative lending institutions to provide low cost loans to farmers.
  • National Industrial Recovery Act (June 1933). Title I of the act suspended anti-trust laws and required companies to write industrywide codes of fair competition that included wage and price fixing, the establishment of production quotas, and restrictions on market entry.  It also gave workers the right to organize unions, although without legal protection.  Title I also created the National Recovery Administration to encourage business compliance.  The Supreme Court ruled the suspension of anti-trust laws unconstitutional in 1935.  Title II, which established the Federal Emergency Administration of Public Works or Public Works Administration, is discussed below.

Roosevelt also pursued several initiatives in response to working class demands for jobs and a humane system of relief.  These include:

  • The Emergency Conservation Work Act (March 1933). The act created the Civilian Conservation Corps which employed jobless young men to work in the nation’s forests and parks, planting trees, reducing erosion, and fighting fires.
  • The Federal Emergency Relief Act of 1933 (May 1933). The act created the Federal Emergency Relief Administration to provide work and cash relief for the unemployed.
  • The Federal Emergency Administration of Public Works or Public Works Administration (June 1933). Established under Title II of the National Industrial Recovery Act, the Public Works Administration was a federally funded public works program that financed private construction of major public projects such as dams, bridges, hospitals, and schools.
  • The Civil Works Administration (November 1933).  Established by executive order, the Civil Works Administration was a short-lived jobs program that employed jobless workers at mostly manual-labor construction jobs.

This is without doubt an impressive record of accomplishments, and it doesn’t include other noteworthy actions, such as the establishment of the Tennessee Valley Authority, the ending of prohibition, and the removal of the US from the gold standard.  Yet, when looked at from the point of view of working people, this First New Deal was sadly lacking.

Roosevelt’s pursuit of market reform rather than deficit spending meant a slow recovery from the depths of the recession.  In fact, John Maynard Keynes wrote Roosevelt a public letter in December 1933, pointing out that the Roosevelt administration appeared more concerned with reform than recovery or, to be charitable, was confusing the former with the latter.  Primary attention, he argued, should be on recovery, and that required greater government spending financed by loans to increase national purchasing power.

Roosevelt also refused to address one of the unemployed movement’s major policy demands: the establishment of a federal unemployment insurance fund financed by taxes on the wealthy.  Finally, as we see next, even the New Deal’s early job creation and relief initiatives were deliberately designed in ways that limited their ability to meaningfully address their targeted social concerns.

First New Deal employment and relief programs

The Roosevelt administration’s first direct response to the country’s massive unemployment was the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC).  Its enrollees, as Roosevelt explained, were to be “used in complex work, not interfering with normal employment and confining itself to forestry, the prevention of soil erosion, flood control, and similar projects.”  The project was important for establishing a new level of federal responsibility, as employer of last resort, for boosting employment.  Over its nine-year lifespan, its participants built thousands of miles of hiking trails, planted millions of trees, and fought hundreds of forest fires.

However, the program was far from meeting the needs of the tens of million jobless and their dependents.  Participation in the program was limited to unmarried male citizens, 18 to 25 years of age, whose families were on local relief, and who were able to pass a physical exam.  By law, maximum enrollment in the program was limited to 300,000.

Moreover, although the CCC provided its participants with shelter, clothing, and food, the wages it paid, $30 a month ($25 of which had to be sent home to their families), were low.  And, while white and black were supposed to be housed together in the CCC camps where participants lived under Army supervision, many of the camps were segregated, with whites given preference for the best jobs.

Two months later, the Roosevelt administration launched the Federal Emergency Relief Administration (FERA), the first program of direct federal financing of relief.  Under the Hoover administration, the federal government had restricted its support of state relief efforts to the offer of loans.  Because of the precariousness of their own financial situation, many states were unable to take on new debt, and were thus left with no choice but to curtail their relief efforts.

FERA, in contrast, offered grants as well as loans, providing approximately $3 billion in grants over its 2 ½ year lifespan. The grants allowed state and local governments to employ people who were on relief rolls to work on a variety of public projects in agriculture, the arts, construction and education.  FERA grants supported the employment of over 20 million people, or about 16 percent of the total population of the United States.

However, the program suffered from a number of shortcomings.  FERA provided funds to the states on a matching basis, with states required to contribute three dollars for every federal dollar.  This restriction meant that a number of states, struggling with budget shortfalls, either refused to apply for FERA grants or kept their requests small.

Also problematic was the program’s requirement that participants be on state relief rolls.  This meant that only one person in a family was eligible for FERA work.  And the amount of pay or relief was determined by a social worker’s evaluation of the extent of the family’s financial need.  Many states had extremely low standards of necessity, resulting in either low wages or inadequate relief payments which could sometimes be limited to coupons exchangeable only for food items on an approved list.

Finally, FERA was not directly involved in the administration and oversight of the projects it funded. This meant that compensation for work and working conditions differed across states.  It also meant that in many states, white males were given preferential treatment.

A month later, the Public Works Administration (PWA) was created as part of the National Industrial Recovery Act.  The PWA was a federal public works program that financed private construction of major long-term public projects such as dams, bridges, hospitals, and schools.  Administrators at PWA headquarters planned the projects and then gave funds to appropriate federal agencies to enable them to help state and local governments finance the work. The PWA played no role in hiring or production; private construction companies carried out the work, hiring workers on the open market.

The program lasted for six years, spent $6 billion, and helped finance a number of important infrastructure projects.  It also gave federal administrators valuable public policy planning experience, which was put to good use during World War II.  However, as was the case with FERA, PWA projects required matching contributions from state and local governments, and given their financial constraints, the program never spent as much money as was budgeted.

These programs paint a picture of a serious but limited effort on the part of the Roosevelt administration to help workers weather the crisis.  In particular, the requirement that states match federal contributions to receive FERA and PWA funds greatly limited their reach.  And, the participant restrictions attached to both the CCC and FERA meant that program benefits were far from adequate.  Moreover, because all of these were new programs, it often took time for administrators to get funds flowing, projects developed, participants chosen, and benefits distributed.  Thus, despite a flurry of activity, millions of workers and their families remained in desperate conditions with winter approaching.

Pressed to do more, the Roosevelt administration launched its final First New Deal jobs program in November 1933, the Civil Works Administration (CWA), under the umbrella of FERA.  It was designed to be a short-term program, and it lasted only 6 months, with most employment creation ending after 4 months.  The jobs created were primarily low-skilled construction jobs, improving or constructing roads, schools, parks, airports, and bridges. The CWA gave jobs to some 4 million people.

This was a dramatically different program from those discussed above.  Most importantly, employment was not limited to those on relief, greatly enlarging the number of unemployed who could participate.  At the end of Hoover’s term in office, only one unemployed person out of four was on a relief roll.  It also meant that participants would not be subject to the relief system’s humiliating means tests or have their wages tied to their family’s “estimated budgetary deficit.”  Also significant was the fact that although many of the jobs were inherited from current relief projects, CWA administrators made a real effort to employ their workers in new projects designed to be of value to the community.

For all of these reasons, jobless workers flocked to the program, seeking an opportunity to do, in the words of the time, “real work for a real wage.”   As Harry Hopkins, the program’s chief administrator, summed up in a talk shortly after the program’s termination:

When we started Civil Works we said we were going to put four million men to work.  How many do you suppose applied for those four million jobs? About ten million. Now I don’t say there were ten million people out of work, but ten million people walked up to a window and stood in line, many of them all night, asking for a job that paid them somewhere between seven and eighteen dollars a week.

In point of fact, there were some fifteen million people unemployed.  And as the demand for CWA jobs became clear, Roosevelt moved to end the program.   As Jeff Singleton describes:

In early January Hopkins told Roosevelt that CWA would run out of funds sooner than expected.  According to one account, Roosevelt “blew up” and demanded that Hopkins begin phasing out the program immediately.  On January 18 Hopkins ordered weekly wages cut (through a reduction in hours worked) and hinted that the program would be terminated at the beginning of March.  The cutback, coming at a time when the program had just reached its promised quota, generated a storm of protest and a movement in Congress to continue CWA through the spring of 1934.  These pressures helped the New Deal secure a new emergency relief appropriation of $950 million, but the CWA was phased out in March and April.

Lessons

The First New Deal did represent an important change in the economic role of the federal government.  In particular, the Roosevelt administration broke new ground in acknowledging federal responsibility for job creation and relief.  Yet, the record of the First New Deal also makes clear that the Roosevelt administration was reluctant to embrace the transformative role that many now attribute to it.

As Keynes pointed out, Roosevelt’s primary concern in the first years of his administration was achieving market stability through market reform, not a larger financial stake in the economy to speed recovery.  In fact, in some cases, his initiatives gave private corporations even greater control over market activity.

The Roosevelt administration response to worker demands for jobs and a more humane system of welfare was also far from transformative.  Determined to place limits on federal spending, its major initiatives required substantial participation from struggling state governments.  They also did little to challenge the punitive and inadequate relief systems operated by state governments.  The one exception was the CWA, which mandated wage-paying federally directed employment.  And that was the one program, despite its popularity, that was quickly terminated.

Of course, there was a Second New Deal, which included a number of important and more progressive initiatives, including the Works Progress Administration, the Social Security Act, and the National Labor Relations Act.  However, as I will discuss in the next post in this series, this Second New Deal was largely undertaken in response to the growing strength of the unemployed movement and workplace labor militancy.   And as we shall see, even these initiatives fell short of what many working people demanded.

One lesson to be learned from this history for those advocating a Green New Deal is that major policy transformations do not come ready made, or emerge fully developed.  Even during a period of exceptional crisis, the Roosevelt administration was hesitant to pursue truly radical experiments.  And the evolution of its policy owed far more to political pressure than the maturation of its administrative capacities or a new found determination to experiment.

If we hope to win a Green New Deal we will have to build a movement that is not only powerful enough to push the federal government to take on new responsibilities with new capacities, but also has the political maturity required to appreciate the contested nature of state policy and the vision necessary to sustain its forward march.

What the New Deal can teach us about winning a Green New Deal: Part II—Movement Building

In Part I in this series on lessons to be learned from the New Deal, I described the enormous economic and social costs of the first years of the Great Depression and the reluctance of business and government leaders to pursue policies likely to threaten the status quo.  I did so to demonstrate that we should not assume that simply establishing the seriousness of our current multifaceted crisis, especially one that has yet to directly threaten capitalist profitability, will be enough to win elite consideration of a transformative Green New Deal.

I also argued that it was the growth of an increasingly militant political movement openly challenging the legitimacy of the police, courts, and other state institutions that finally transformed the national political environment and pushed Roosevelt to change course and introduce his early New Deal employment and relief programs.  In this post, I examine the driving force of this movement, the movement of unemployed.

The growth and effectiveness of the unemployed movement owes much to the organizing and strategic choices of the US Communist Party (CP).  While there is much to criticize about CP policies and activities, especially its sectarianism and aggressive antagonism towards other groups, there is also much we can learn about successful organizing from its work with the unemployed in the early years of the depression.

The party faced the challenge of building a mass movement powerful enough to force a change in government policy. Although its initial victory was limited, the policy breakthrough associated with the programs of the First New Deal led to new expectations and demands, culminating in Roosevelt’s adoption of far more extensive employment and relief policies as part of his Second New Deal, only two years later.

We face a similar challenge today; we need to build a mass movement capable of forcing the government to begin adopting policies that help advance a Green New Deal.  Therefore, it is well worth our time to study how party activists built a national organization of the unemployed that helped the unemployed see that their hard times were the result of structural rather than personal failure; encouraged local, collective, and direct action in defense of immediate shared basic needs; and connected local actions to a broader national campaign for government action.

The CP and the unemployed movement

The CP made its decision to organize the unemployed even before the start of the Great Depression.  In August 1929, two months before the stock market crash, the CP established the Trade Union Unity League (TUUL) as an alternative to the AFL and called on that body to assist in the creation of a nation-wide organization of Unemployed Councils (UCs).

The CP was following the lead of the Communist International which had, in 1928, declared the start of the so-called Third Period, which was said to mark the beginning of capitalism’s terminal stage, and called on all communist parties to end their joint work with other organizations and prepare for the coming revolutionary struggle.  This stance meant that as unemployment exploded, those without work had the benefit of an existing organization to give them a voice and instrument of action.  Unfortunately, it also led to destructive attacks on other political tendencies and efforts to build organizations of the unemployed, thereby weakening the overall effort.

The CP’s first big effort directed towards the unemployed was the March 6, 1930 demonstrations against unemployment and for relief that drew some 500,000 people in twenty-five cities and was organized under the banner of “International Day for Struggle against Worldwide Unemployment.”  The New York City demonstration, the largest, was met by police repression, with many demonstrators beaten and arrested.  But another New York City protest by the unemployed in October produced a victory, with the city agreeing to boost relief spending by $1 million.  These actions created visibility for the CP’s fledgling national network of UCs and helped to build its membership.

The Unemployed Councils of the USA held its founding convention in early July.  The following month it issued a statement calling on Congress to adopt its “Workers Unemployment Insurance Bill.” The bill called for “payment of $35 per week for each unemployed worker plus an additional $5 per week per dependent and the creation of a ‘National Unemployment Insurance Fund’ to be generated through a tax on all property valued in excess of $25,000 and incomes of more than $5,000.” A new Workers’ Commission, to be elected by working people, was to control the distribution of funds.

To this point, the Unemployed Councils of the USA was dominated by the CP, and its general program and demands largely echoed those of the CP, often including foreign policy declarations expressing support for the Soviet Union.  However, in November, finally acknowledging that this dominance was limiting recruitment, the party agreed to give its organizers more independence and freedom to focus on the issues of most direct concern to the unemployed.  In the months that followed, “a wave of rent strikes, eviction fights, and hunger marches involving an estimated 250,000 workers in seventy-five cities and six states swept the country. The Unemployed Councils had become a force to be reckoned with.”

The party’s focus on building a confrontational movement operating both locally and nationally led it to reject a variety of other efforts embraced by some unemployed.  As Franklin Folsom describes:

Early in 1931, some leaders of Unemployed Councils had recommended setting up food kitchens, and Communists helped organize food collections. These were humane acts of assistance to people who needed something to eat immediately. In a few months, however, both the Communists and the Unemployed Councils abandoned the idea, saying it had nothing to do with solving the basic problems of the unemployed.  Similarly, Communist and council policy on the subject of looting varied depending on time and place.  In the early days of mass unemployment some Communists encouraged the direct appropriation of food.  Later the practice was frowned on because it solved no long-term problem and could provoke very costly counteraction.

Many unemployed also turned to self-help activities to survive.  The so-called “productive enterprise” movement, in which unemployed workers sought to create their own enterprises to produce either for the market or barter, spread rapidly.  According to one study, by the end of 1932 this movement was active in thirty-seven states, with the largest group in California.  The CP and UCs opposed this effort from the start, calling it a self-starvation movement.

The organization and activity of the UCs

Most UCs were neighborhood centered, since the unemployed generally spent most of their time in the neighborhoods where they lived. The basic unit of the UC was the block committee, which comprised all unemployed local residents and their family members.  Each block committee elected delegates to a neighborhood unemployed council, and these councils, in turn, elected delegates to county or city unemployed councils.

The block committee office served as a social center, where the unemployed could gather and build relationships.  Through conversation and even more importantly action they were also able to develop a new radical understanding of the cause of their unemployment as well as appreciation for collective power.  As Steve Nelson, a leader of the Chicago UC movement, explained, it was important for the unemployed to “see that unemployment was not the result of their own or someone else’s mistake, that it was a worldwide phenomenon and a natural product of the system.” Thus, “unemployed agitation was as much education as direct action.”

With time on their hands, the unemployed were generally eager to act in defense of their neighbors, especially around housing and relief.  Here is Christine Ellis, a UC organizer, talking about what happened at one UC meeting in a black neighborhood on the west side of Chicago:

We spoke simply, explained the platform, the demands and activities of the unemployed council. And then we said, “Are there any questions?”…. Finally an elderly Black man stood up and said, “What you folks figure on doing about that colored family that was thrown out of their house today?… They’re still out there with their furniture on the sidewalk.” So the man with me said, “Very simple. We’ll adjourn the meeting, go over there, and put the furniture back in the house. After that, anyone wishing to join the unemployed council and build an organization to fight evictions, return to this hall and we’ll talk about it some more.” That’s what we did…everybody else pitched in, began to haul in every last bit of furniture, fix up the beds…and when that was all done, went back to the hall. The hall was jammed!

Carl Winder, another UC activist, describes the response of the councils in New York to attempted evictions for nonpayment of rent:

Squads of neighbors were organized to bar the way to the dispossessing offices.  Whole neighborhoods were frequently mobilized to take part in this mutual assistance.  Where superior police force prevailed, it became common practice for the Unemployed Councils to lead volunteer squads in carrying the displaced furniture and belongings back into the home after the police had departed.  Council organizers became adept in fashioning meter-jumps to restore disconnected electric service and gas.

Hosea Hudson, a UC activist in Alabama, tells how landlords in Birmingham would sometimes allow tenants to stay even without paying rent “because if they put a family out, the unemployed workers would wreck the house and take it away for fuel by night…. This was kind of a free-for-all, a share-the-wealth situation.”

No Work, No Rent! was the common chant at UC anti-eviction actions.  And because UCs were part of a national organization, successful strategies in one area were quickly shared with UCs in another, spurring new actions.  According to one account, UCs had practically stopped evictions in Detroit by March 1931.  It was estimated that in 1932, 77,000 New York City families were moved back into their homes by UCs.  At the same time, these were costly actions. The police would often arrest many of those involved as well as use force to end resistance, leading to serious injuries and in some cases deaths.

UCs also mobilized to help people who were turned down for relief assistance.  Normally, UC organizers would gather a large crowd outside the relief agency and send in an elected committee to demand a meeting to reverse the decision.  Here is Hosea Hudson again, explaining the approach of the Birmingham UC:

If someone get out of food and been down to the welfare two or three times and still ain’t got no grocery order…. We’d go to the house of the person that’s involved, the victim, let her tell her story. Then we’d ask all the people, “What do you all think could be done about it?” We wouldn’t just jump up and say what to do. We let the neighbors talk about it for a while, and then it would be some of us in the crowd, we going to say, “If the lady wants to go back down to the welfare, if she wants, I suggest we have a little committee to go with her and find out what the condition is.”

In New York, UC members would often organize sit-ins at the relief office and refuse to leave until the center reversed a negative decision.  Intimidated by the aggressive protests, local relief officials throughout the country increasingly gave ground and approved relief requests.

This kind of activism directly challenged business and elite claims that prosperity was just around the corner.  It also revealed a growing radical spark, as more and more people openly challenged the legitimacy of the police, the court system, and state institutions.

With demands for relief escalating, cash-strapped relief agencies began pressing city governments for additional funds.  But city budgets were also shrinking.    As Danny Lucia reports in his study of unemployed organizing, this was an explosive situation.  In 1932, with Chicago’s unemployment rate at 40 percent, “Mayor Anton Cermak told Congress to send $150 million today or federal troops in the future.”

Thus, the militancy of the unemployed movement was now pushing mayors and even some business leaders to also press for federal action.  This development served to amplify the UCs own state and national campaigns demanding direct job creation and a program of federal relief.  These campaigns, by design, also helped generate publicity and support for local UC actions.

For example, in January 1931, a gathering of the Unemployed Councils of America and the TUUL decided to launch a national petition drive aimed at forcing Congress to pass a Federal Unemployment Insurance bill.  The UCs then began door-to-door canvassing for signatures.  Approximately a month later a delegation of 140 people was sent to Washington DC to deliver the petition to Congress on National Unemployment Insurance Day.  Demonstrations in support of the petition, organized by UCs, were held in most major cities on the same day.

Not long after, the CP set up a new organization, the Unemployed Committee for the National Hunger March, to coordinate a national hunger march on Washington DC to demand federal unemployment insurance and “the granting of emergency winter relief for the unemployed in the form of a lump-sum payment of $150 per unemployed worker, with an additional $50 for each dependent” as well as “a 7-hour workday, establishment of a union wage pay scale for unemployed workers, payment of a soldiers’ bonus to veterans of World War I, and an end to discrimination against black American and foreign-born workers.”  Local conferences selected 1,670 delegates, who converged on Washington from four separate columns in December 1931.  Their trip across the country was supported by local UCs.

Not surprisingly, the delegates were denied entrance to the Capital to present their demands.  They stayed two days and then started back, holding mass meetings across the country on their return trip to talk about their demands and the need for mass action to win them.

Another National Hunger March took place the following year.  This time 3,000 delegates came to Washington DC to again present their demands for winter relief and unemployment insurance.  These marches not only helped to strengthen the movement of the unemployed, they also greatly increased the pressure on elected officials to take some action to restore popular confidence in the government.

Underpinning the strategic orientation of the work of the UCs was the CP’s determination to build solidarity between the labor movement and the unemployed and anti-racist unity.  The first is highlighted by struggles in Detroit, where most unemployment was the result of auto factory layoffs.  There, the UCs and the Young Communist League led several marches to auto plants to protest the inadequate benefits given to laid-off workers.  Organizers would also read statements aimed at the workers still employed in the plants, pledging that the unemployed would not scab if workers struck for improved conditions.

As for anti-racism work, the CP “made sure that all of its agitation in the unemployed councils included protests against racial discrimination by relief agencies, landlords, and local and federal government.  On a more individual level, the Communists’ emphasis on multiracial organizing created situations in which whites and Blacks worked together for a common purpose and created personal bonds.”

Other organizing efforts

The CP was not the only left organization working to build a movement of the unemployed.  Both the Socialist Party and the Conference of Progressive Labor Action (CPLA), led by A.J. Muste, also created unemployed organizations that mobilized hundreds of thousands of jobless workers in local and national protests.  The Socialist Party created affiliated committees in a number of cities, the largest in Chicago and New York.  These committees were, like the UCs, generally oriented towards direct action in response to local conditions but they also engaged in electoral efforts.

The CPLA organized a number of Unemployed Citizen Leagues (UCLs) following the model of the Seattle Unemployed Citizens League. Established in the summer of 1931, the Seattle UCL quickly grew to a membership of 80,000 by 1933.  The UCLs initially focused on self-help through barter and labor exchange.  For example, members of the Seattle league:

persuaded farmers to let them harvest the fruit and potatoes for which there was no market, and they borrowed trucks to transport this produce.  Women exchanged sewing for food.  Barbers cut hair for canned berries.  This practice of barter spread and was highly organized. . . . Some men collected firewood from cutover forested areas; in all, they cut, split, and hauled 11,000 cords.  The products of these labors were shared by UCL members.  Some members repaired houses or worked in shoe repair shops, while others did gardening.  There were also child welfare and legal aid projects in which lawyers contributed their services.

The UCLs were also active in local elections, supporting candidates and legislation in favor of extended relief aid and unemployment insurance.  However, after a few years, most abandoned their focus on self-help, finding that “the needs of the jobless greatly exceeded the ability of a mutual aid program to meet them,” and turned instead to more direct-action protests similar to those of the UCs.  Although the CPLA failed to develop a national presence, their leagues were important in the Midwest, especially Ohio.

The CP was hostile to these organizations and their organizing efforts. In line with their Third Period strategy, the CP considered them to be a danger to the movement they were trying to build and their leaders to be “social-fascists.”  Party opposition went beyond denouncing these groups.  UC activists were encouraged to undermine their work, sometimes by physical force, other times by infiltrating and disrupting their meetings. This sectarianism clearly weakened the overall strength of the unemployed movement.  At the same time, local UC activists would sometimes ignore CP and UC leadership directives and find ways to build solidarity around joint actions on behalf of the unemployed.

The unemployed were not the only group whose organizing threatened the status quo.  As Steve Fraser pointed out: “Farmers took to the fields and roads in shocking displays of lawlessness. All across the corn belt, rebels banded together to forcibly prevent evictions of fellow farmers.” The Farm Holiday Association, an organization of midwestern farmers founded in 1932, not only mobilized its members to resist evictions, it also supported a progressive income tax, federal relief for the urban unemployed, and federal government control of the banks.  “In the South, tenants and sharecroppers unionized and conducted what a Department of Labor study called a ‘miniature civil war.’”

Veterans also organized.  World War I veterans from around the country, many with their families, traveled to Washington DC in summer 1932.  The call for a national Bonus March, although made by a largely anti-communist leadership, was inspired by the CP organized First National Hunger March. The veterans had been promised a bonus to compensate for their low war-time pay, but the Congress had delayed payment until 1945.  The veterans wanted their money now and set-up camps near the Capitol to pressure Congress to act.  Their camps were destroyed and the veterans violently dispersed by troops led by Douglas McArthur and Dwight Eisenhower.

In short, the political trajectory was one that concerned a growing number of political and business leaders.  Working people, largely anchored by a left-promoted, mass-based movement of unemployed, were becoming increasingly militant and dismissive of establishment calls for patience.  Continued federal inaction was becoming ever more dangerous.  Recognizing the need for action to preserve existing structures of power, it took Roosevelt only three months to drop his commitment to balanced budget orthodoxy in favor of New Deal experimentation.

Lessons

The multifaceted crisis we face today is significantly different from the crisis activists faced in the first years of the Great Depression.  But there is no question that, much like then, we will need to build a powerful, mass-movement for change if we hope to harness state power to advance a Green New Deal.

The First New Deal was not the result of administration concerns over the economic and social costs of the Great Depression.  Rather, it was political pressure that forced Roosevelt to begin experimenting with programs responsive to the concerns of working people.  And, not surprisingly, these experiments were, as will be discussed in the next post in this series, quite limited. It took new organizing to push Roosevelt to implement more progressive programs as part of his Second New Deal.

There are also lessons to be learned from the period about movement building itself, specifically the CPs organizing and strategic choices in targeting the unemployed and building a national movement of the unemployed anchored by a network of UCs.   The UCs helped transform how people understood the cause of their hard times.  They also created a local, collective, and direct outlet for action in defense of immediate shared basic needs.  The CP also emphasized the importance of organizing those actions in ways designed to overcome important divisions among working people.  Finally, the party and the UCs created broader campaigns for public policies on the national level that were directly responsive to local concerns and actions. Thus, organizing helped create a momentum that built political awareness, leadership capacity, class unity, and national weight around demands for new public initiatives.

The call for a Green New Deal speaks to a variety of crises and the need for change in many different sectors, including food production, energy generation, transportation, manufacturing, social and physical infrastructure, housing, health care, and employment creation.  It also projects a vision of a new more sustainable, egalitarian, and democratic society.  While it would be a mistake to equate the organizing work in the early years of the depression, which focused on employment and relief, with what is required today given the multifaceted nature of our crisis, we would do well to keep the organizing experience highlighted above in mind as we seek to advance the movement building process needed to win a Green New Deal.  It offers important insights into some of the organizational and political challenges we can expect to face and helpful criteria for deciding how best to respond to them.

For example, it challenges us to think carefully about how to ensure that our organizing work both illuminates the roots of our current multifaceted crises, building anti-capitalist consciousness, and challenges existing racial, ethnic, and gender divisions, strengthening working class unity.  It also challenges us to think about how to ensure that that our efforts in different geographic areas and around different issues will connect to build a national presence and organizational form that strengthens and unites our various efforts and also projects our overall vision of a restructured society.  And it also challenges us to think about how we should engage the state itself, envisioning and preparing for the ways it can be expected to seek to undermine whatever reforms are won.