Americans expect the Supreme Court to be nonpartisan, but was that always the case? In this episode of You Don't Have to Yell, historian Rachel Shelden discusses how Lincoln appointed his campaign manager to the Court, later expanded it for a pro-Union justice, and how voters thought this was all normal.
Uber drivers participate in a rally outside of the Uber Headquarters on January 05, 2023 in New York City. Uber drivers in NYC participated in a 24-hour strike outside of the company's NYC headquarters
In recent years, the US labor force has been undergoing a fundamental transformation. In today’s "Uber economy," gig workers, freelancers, contractors, temps, permatemps, remote workers after COVID, and so-called “independent workers” have been championed by Silicon Valley and Wall Street as the “new way to work”—the wave of the future, especially with AI changing the nature of work itself.
Many US consumers have driven in an Uber taxi, but don’t realize that most drivers earn below minimum wage after accounting for vehicle expenses, gas, maintenance, and unpaid time waiting for passengers. Those drivers are so-called “independent contractors,” so the billion-dollar Uber is not responsible for providing healthcare, Social Security contributions, workers' compensation, or unemployment compensation, not to mention sick leave or vacation pay.
Another type of “gig-preneur” can be found on platforms like Fiverr, an online job brokerage that connects buyers to sellers of numerous tasks and services called micro-gigs. Each gig pays as little as $5 per job (hence its Fiverr name). One worker, after fulfilling 27 orders, made $176 in total. “I’ve seen panhandlers get more money outside of the 7-11,” she complained.
Other workers swept up in this job market degradation don’t work gigs; they have regular jobs. Meet Chris Young, an assembly-line worker at a Nissan manufacturing plant in Tennessee. Young works alongside dozens of other employees doing the exact same job, but he doesn’t work directly for Nissan. Instead, he works as a “perma-temp” for Yates Services, a private contractor that provides a majority of Nissan’s workers. He builds the same Infiniti SUV as Nissan workers, but he and other Yates employees get half the salary, less job security, and far fewer safety-net benefits. Some “temps” have worked at the same company for as long as 11 years—hence the new term "perma-temp.”
America is a wealthy nation, but these drastic changes to the job market have left millions of Americans without access to that wealth. How many of these new economy workers are there? It’s hard to say because they are difficult to count.
The Bureau of Labor Statistics counts about 12 million “independent contractors” (7.4% of 162 million workers in the US) and another 2.8 million (1.7%) on-call workers, over 9 percent of the total workforce. But the BLS uses a narrow definition of “worker,” and broader definitions push total estimates much higher, from 16.5 million to over 30 million workers, depending on whether researchers count occasional side gigs or secondary jobs. Industry trackers like MBO Partners estimate that roughly 75 million Americans (46%) engage in some form of independent work yearly, with 22% treating it as their primary full-time career, more than double the 10% who did so in 2019.
New app- and web-based technologies are making it easier than ever to hire such workers. Employers also have strong incentives to do so, especially in certain industries and occupations, by taking advantage of what is known as the “independent contractor loophole.” An employer can lower labor costs dramatically by around 30%, just by evading contributions for a worker’s health benefits, Social Security, Medicare, unemployment, workers' compensation, lunch breaks, paid sick days, and vacation leave. A McKinsey report also found that independent contractors get paid 20-30% less than employees. So these savings provide a powerful incentive for an employer to hire as many contractors as possible.
To be sure, some businesses benefit from labor flexibility, since they need to ramp up and down in response to fluctuations in demand for their product or service. But hiring a large contractor workforce lets a company greatly lower labor costs by wiping out workers’ safety net, undermining a key component that has made the U.S. economy so successful.
Fortunately, an innovative solution exists. It’s called a “portable safety net,” or “portable benefits.” It would allow any worker hired by multiple employers during the year to benefit from a robust safety net. Here’s how it works.
Each business that hires an independent worker would contribute a set amount above the worker's wage, prorated by the hours the worker worked for that employer. Those payroll deductions would go into an Individual Security Account for each worker, helping that worker pay for her/his safety net. The ISA accounts would be structured to direct the payroll deductions into existing federal and state safety net programs -- Social Security, Medicare, unemployment insurance, and workers’ compensation -- as well as other safety net components, especially health care, and possibly paid sick days and vacation (the worker also would have some wages deducted, much like regularly employed full-time workers do).
For example, suppose Donna is a regular employee working 20 hours a week for a hairdresser, then contracts for 10 hours a week with TaskRabbit, and drives 10 shifts for Uber. She would earn 50 percent of her benefits from the hairdresser, 25 percent from TaskRabbit, and the remaining percentage based on her Uber driving wages. Each company would deposit the funds into her ISA.
This is similar to how Social Security and Obamacare work now, where a personal ID number tracks a retirement or health care account for people who work for multiple employers.
A portable safety net for all workers who need it would have several benefits. It would allow some scheduling flexibility for workers and businesses, as well as the health and financial security that workers and their families need. It would also improve affordability for many individuals and families, especially after the Trump administration’s deep cuts to Medicaid, Medicare, SNAP, and other programs.
A portable safety net would also move us beyond labor abuses and lawsuits over who’s a contractor or regular employee and entitled to safety-net coverage, because all workers would be covered. It would also remove the perverse incentive for businesses to use cheaper contractors to undercut competitors, which unleashes a race to the bottom.
Note that requiring all businesses in an industry to pay into their workers’ ISAs would not hurt the competitiveness of any of those businesses, because all employers would be subject to the same rules. Businesses could pass the costs of this kind of “safety net insurance plan” on to customers, since customers are the largest pool capable of absorbing them. Many customers would also be the same workers receiving benefits, so it would be a virtuous circle, “a rising tide lifting all boats.”
Several 21st-century countries already do something like this, and in the US, 40 business, government, labor, and NGO leaders from the right and left have endorsed a portable safety net and agree it is a necessary foundation for the 21st-century economy. President Barack Obama endorsed portable benefits in his 2016 State of the Union address, and Uber and Lyft have supported legislation proposed in state legislatures in New York, Washington, and New Jersey. But the legislation died in all three states when Uber and Lyft made a measly offer: instead of something close to 20% of a worker’s wage to provide an adequate safety net, they offered only 2.5%.
A portable safety net for all workers is long overdue. This has the makings of a win-win solution. We need to ensure the labor force and the broader economy are built on a fair, healthy foundation for the future. All Americans deserve to be enriched by technology and innovation, not made obsolete or impoverished by it.
Steven Hill was policy director for the Center for Humane Technology, co-founder of FairVote, and political reform director at New America. See more of his writing at his Substack newsletter DemocracySOS.
Colorado, Maui County, and Washington State are connecting early childhood services and putting families at the center. Here’s what worked and why.
In Colorado’s San Luis Valley, a family looking for developmental support for their toddler may drive over an hour to reach a specialist, if one is even taking new patients. In too many communities across the country, like the San Luis Valley, the problem isn’t that services don’t exist. It’s that pediatricians, childcare providers, and mental health professionals are all working toward the same goal, but may not be working together.
When families have to navigate a maze of disconnected programs and providers, children start to miss opportunities for timely developmental support. Not because communities don’t care, but because the systems around them were never built to function as one.
A few communities have set out to change that, not by reinventing the wheel, but by connecting existing systems. When communities find ways to integrate and expand vital support systems, rather than replicating another model, a more cohesive and responsive solution emerges that better serves local families and their needs. In doing so, stronger partnerships can form between providers and community groups, between state agencies and local leaders, and most importantly, between families and the systems serving them.
Three places show what that looks like in practice.
Rural communities like the San Luis Valley face a harder version of the same problem. There are fewer specialists, longer drives, and a smaller workforce to go around. Often, when a family can’t access services easily, it feels like they have no services at all.
State agencies supported local leaders in implementing a robust, closed-loop electronic referral system, increasing successful referrals and the number of families completing early intervention evaluations. State and local partners also strengthened the mental health workforce through training and fellowship opportunities, created a framework for partnering with families to develop more responsive pathways to care, and expanded the HealthySteps program, which embeds a specialist in early childhood development directly in pediatric offices – including San Luis Valley’s most rural clinics.
None of this worked just because of a single tool, process, or resource. It worked because activities were driven and shaped by the people who stand to benefit from the coordination.
Rather than launching something new, leaders in Maui County, Hawai’i, strengthened an existing collaborative already trusted by local families: Kākou for Keiki. It had a community network of strong relationships, local knowledge, infrastructure, and credibility that was ripe for additional investment.
By refining their collective impact strategies, Kākou for Keiki demonstrates what’s possible when centering lived experience in decision-making and developing family leaders in Maui County. Among their successes is the launch of a screening kiosk within a community health center, facilitating stronger connections between families, medical providers, and available community resources for quality developmental support.
Meeting families where they are, both literally and figuratively, builds the trust necessary to make services truly more accessible.
State leaders in Washington recognized that local communities know their families best, but they don’t have to build every system alone. The state assessed existing data to create a full picture of family needs and shared it with partners for decision-making, helping 70 organizations across five counties and eight sectors work together to identify solutions that can be expanded across the state.
Washington also used collaborative contracting to position county-level partners as the drivers of change, while advancing shared goals. In Grant and Grays Harbor counties, local leaders used resource mapping, public awareness campaigns, and community events to connect families with services.
Washington shows us that state support and local ownership aren’t in tension with one another. In fact, when done well, they can reinforce each other and the community they serve.
While Colorado, Maui County, and Washington look nothing alike on the surface, each of these communities succeeded for the same underlying reason: inviting families in as partners when designing solutions, not just the recipients of the efforts. One built new infrastructure, one strengthened an existing collaborative, and one coordinated local and statewide resources for the greater good.
A referral system, a screening initiative, or a data-sharing agreement will rarely make headlines. Yet they determine whether families experience early childhood services as a seamless network of support or a confusing collection of disconnected organizations they navigate on their own.
These lessons arrive at an important moment. Policymakers, healthcare providers, and community leaders across the country are looking for practical ways to strengthen early childhood systems. The answer isn’t fifty communities trying to become San Luis, Maui, or Washington. It’s thousands of communities empowered to become the best version of themselves, supported by strong partnerships, family leadership, and sustainable infrastructure that’s built to last.
Communities looking for a place to start don't have to build a system from the ground up. There are field-tested, practical strategies and real-world examples to help you find field-tested tools for strengthening early childhood systems in your own community.
When we stop searching for a perfect model and instead invest in the strategies that allow communities to solve problems together, we don’t just improve individual programs. We build and strengthen systems that meet families where they are and support them on their journey to where they want to be.
Hannah Johnson is the Director of Early Childhood Developmental Health Systems (ECDHS): Evidence to Impact Center at ZERO TO THREE. She has spent the last 20 years uniting early childhood, healthcare, and legislative partners around systems transformation. Hannah is a dedicated advocate for families and serves on the Farmington Area Public Schools Board of Education in Minnesota while holding two Bachelor of Science degrees from Iowa State University.
Starting in the 1990’s, the idea of putting term limits on members of Congress became a recurring idea to reform the institution and improve democracy. The idea was born out of the theory that replacing the current crop of legislators with a new batch would produce a better Congress. More than 30 years later we now have quantitative and qualitative data showing the impact of term limits.
Twenty-one state legislatures have enacted some kind of term limit on legislators since 1990. Since then, dozens of academic studies have examined the impact on such factors as: complexity of legislation, influence of lobbyists and staff on legislative outcomes, and interactions with constituent. Here are some key findings.
Reduced legislative capacity. With less experienced lawmakers writing legislation the legislators produced weaker and fewer bills. Intuitively, this makes sense. If you have less experienced individuals in any workplace they require time to understand the nuances of the business. As a confidential consultant for members of the U.S. House and Senate I’ve seen this countless times. Even experienced members of the minority party can legislate circles around rookie lawmakers.
Power shifted to lobbyists. With the institutional memory erased, special interest backed (and written) legislation was more likely to pass. When legislators are forced out of their jobs due to term limits they often migrate to the lobbying community. But they still retain their institutional and issue knowledge they gained as lawmakers. To be fair, not all lobbyists fall into the grim stereotype portrayed in movies and TV. Most are subject-matter experts and lawmakers rely on them to convey how a proposed piece of legislation might affect a group of constituents or businesses. Yet, we can also see a world that would likely be better of legislatures were not compelled to rely on lobbyists since the in-house expertise was unable to run for re-election.
Power shifted to leadership and executive branch. With inexperienced lawmakers trying to quickly get up to speed on their job, academic studies have suggested that the power vacuum is filled by legislative leaders and the executive branch in states. Of course, to have functioning legislators you need functioning leaders. But this power shift almost always consolidates power away from the majority of state constituents. We’ve seen this power shift occur in the U.S. Congress, under Democratic and Republican leaders, since 1995. And seen it shift on a massive scale since the beginning of President Trump’s second term. There are very few scholars (and most members of Congress) who think a weakened legislative institution is healthy for our democracy.
Reduced constituent engagement. With no electoral incentive, especially in lawmakers’ final terms, there was less engagement with constituents. Legislators grew more distant from the voters. Term limited lawmakers also were more likely to skip committee meetings and miss floor votes. Putting oneself up for the voters’ assessment every two or four years is a remarkable human incentive our Founders created.
Also consider that general retirements and electoral outcomes often result in significant reductions in senior lawmakers. This effect was on display at the start of the 118th Congress, when Rep. Kevin McCarthy was forced to 15 ballots to gain the speakership. The 435 House members voting on McCarthy had not been sworn in (the Speaker’s vote comes first). And at the beginning of that Congress in 2023, 49 percent of House members had four years’ experience in the Congress or less. Can we really say with that infusion of new blood that 2023 was a banner year for the Congress?
One can also assess what we would lose when experienced lawmakers are forced out of office. Under term limits, all these lawmakers would have been required to leave before the pinnacle of their legislative effectiveness: Henry Clay, Lynden Johnson, Orin Hatch, John McCain, and Ted Kennedy. At the height of their careers these legislators crafted historic bills on health care, transportation, taxes, and defense policy.
There is of course a natural “stick it to the man”/“throw the rascals out” mentality that runs through public opinion. Yet when we explore how to reform our democratic institutions, we should be grounded in solid research rather than impulsive passions.
Bradford Fitch is the former CEO of the Congressional Management Foundation, a former congressional staffer, and author of “The Citizen’s Handbook for Influencing Elected Officials."
Data calculations
Earlier in October, the Bureau of Labor Statistics reported that consumer prices rose 3.7 percent over the past year, a little higher than the month before, with gasoline accounting for more than half of September's increase. Rising prices are the kind of news no incumbent politician wants weeks before an election. The report was published anyway, on schedule. That is the quiet discipline of a trustworthy statistical system. It tells us what is true even when the number is unwelcome to whoever holds power.
So, do Americans trust government data? We do. But that trust is incomplete, and it has room to grow.
In a national survey this summer, nearly three in four adults agreed that federal statistics are valuable and needed for policymakers to make good decisions. At the same time, only about half said they tend to trust those statistics. That gap between perceived value and trust is significant, which the nonpartisan Data Foundation documented in a report this month and is worth digging into. Americans are not rejecting the value of federal statistics at all. Instead, many are simply unsure whether to believe the statistics. Our national statistics are a portrait of our economy, our communities, and our people. They should also tell us about ourselves. The question is why so many of us do not yet see ourselves in those statistics.
Part of the answer may be that averages are a poor guide to any one life. A national inflation rate is a single number standing in for millions of households with very different spending, spread across dozens of metro areas, each with its own mix of rent, groceries, and gas. Inflation is accurate, and it may also bear little resemblance to your receipt. Over the year ending in September, prices rose about 4.1 percent in the Washington, D.C., metro area but just 1.9 percent around Tampa. In September alone, ground beef and milk got cheaper while gasoline got more expensive. Whether the national number feels true to any person depends on where and how they live. When the headline average does not match the life a person is living, no wonder the number can feel meaningless.
That doubt matters most this fall because the economy is the top issue for voters, according to the Pew Research Center. Economic statistics are therefore under the most pressure to tell a convenient story. So look at the places where that pressure is highest. We examined Senate battleground states, where any hypothetical thumb-on-the-scale would pay off most. In September, unemployment was 3.3 percent in Maine and 3.4 percent in Ohio, below the then national rate of 4.2 percent, while Texas sat at 4.4 percent and Michigan at 5.0 percent, above it. That is not the uniformly favorable story a campaign would want. What keeps these figures honest is process: established methods, published release schedules, and transparent revisions. Officials may see them in advance under embargo, but no one can alter, suppress, or delay them.
Here is the part we most want to say plainly: It is not the American people's obligation to trust their government or government data. The government has to earn that trust, and keep earning it. The long technical documentation behind every official number is necessary because it is how independence is proven and credibility is built. But documentation is far from sufficient. People have to be able to see themselves in the statistics their government produces. If anything, the answer runs the other way: our statistical agencies may need to produce even more relevant statistics about our economy, our people, and our society, not fewer. Statistics that are more representative, higher in quality, easier to reach, and easier to understand are how public statistics stay relevant, trusted, and used.
One of us has spent a career advocating for national efforts on data quality and trustworthiness, so the data infrastructure keeps pace with the demands of modern society. The other has spent a career inside the government, as a federal chief data officer at the Office of Personnel Management and as chief data scientist at the Government Accountability Office, building the systems that produce context-relevant and rigorously validated numbers. From both vantage points the lesson is the same: data earns trust when it stands apart from the politics of the moment, and when people can find themselves in it.
The United States has already pointed itself in this direction. Alongside democracies around the world, it joined the Luxembourg Declaration affirming the value of data and evidence. The next step is to formally measure not only whether people trust the government, but why. U.S. participation in the OECD's international survey on the drivers of trust would do exactly that, connecting headline numbers to the things that actually move trust: reliability, fairness, responsiveness, and whether decisions draw on the best available evidence.
To date, Republican and Democratic administrations alike have not participated in the OECD's international survey, despite the reality that while America is exceptional in many ways, low trust in government is not unique to America. And if official statistics matter this much, the agencies and data officials who produce them need secure, sustained funding: enough to produce, manage, and protect this information, and to keep it accessible to people and machines alike as more of public life runs on data—even if the numbers are politically inconvenient.
This month's inflation numbers were not flattering for many political campaigns. They arrived anyway, measured the same way everywhere, released on a published schedule for Principal Federal Economic Indicators. That is independence in practice. Trust will not come from telling Americans to believe the numbers; trust comes when the numbers are clear enough, and close enough to people's lives, that people can see themselves in them.
Nick Hart is President and CEO of the nonpartisan Data Foundation. He is a fellow of the National Academy of Public Administration and the Bipartisan Policy Center.
Taka Ariga is Vice President for Data Policy and Impact at the Data Foundation. He is a former Chief Data Scientist at the Government Accountability Office.
