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Photo by Alexander Mils on Unsplash
Democrats' Affordability Campaign Should Focus on Frozen Wages
Jan 18, 2026
Affordability has become a political issue because the cost of basic necessities - food, health and child care, transportation, and housing - for 43% of families today outruns their wages.
Inflation is one factor. But the affordability issue exists primarily because inflation-adjusted (real) wages for 80% of working- and middle-class men and women have been essentially frozen for the past 46 years.
Most men and women are frustrated and hamstrung by wage stagnation: 59% of workers across all sectors would now welcome unionization. They hunger for an economy that works for them, not billionaires, and are eagerly challenging antiunion elites like Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos, who habitually suppress wages.
Working men and women will base their votes on facts if they have them. So Democrats need a compelling factual message for 2026 centered on unfreezing wages – a message replete with heroes and villains.
The Heroes: FDR’s New Deal Made America the Land of Opportunity
Even some economists are unaware that the Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS) has long maintained an extensive database on America’s working- and middle-class men and women. BLS describes them as “production, nonsupervisory” employees, and they comprise the lowest-earning 80% (111 million) of all private-sector nonfarm workers. From 1948-1979, as New Deal union organizing and collective bargaining strengthened, their real average hourly compensation (wages and benefits) rose an unprecedented 2.1% annually. The formula was simple: government-supported collective bargaining and stringent financial and antitrust regulations raised employee wages at the expense of profits.
That is why the share of national income accruing to the wealthiest 1% during this period fell by half from 21.6% in 1941 to 10.4% in 1980.
This was a stunning, unprecedented event. Throughout global history, wages had stagnated, with an average of half or fewer children out-earning their parents. Rising wages during the New Deal changed that: a huge majority (>90%) of U.S. children born in 1940 earned higher real household incomes at age 30 than their parents had at that age. The transformational New Deal formula created the gigantic American middle class, the fortunate generation of working-class men and women who realized the American Dream.
The Villains: Reaganomics Turned the American Dream into a Pipedream
America’s wealthiest conservatives and the deeply cynical Ronald Reagan put a stop to that, freezing wages over the 46 years since.
Billionaires Joseph Coors and Richard Mellon Scaife financed the 1981 Reagan economic blueprint called Reaganomics – directing Reagan and the Republicans to reverse the decline in their share of income. Reagan complied, empowering employers to break labor unions while enacting trade laws that incentivized job offshoring (Reagan’s maquiladora factories and later Trump’s 2017 tax law). The real Federal minimum wage was frozen below $10/hour, and Republican-led states adopted laws kneecapping collective bargaining.
Moreover, in the decades that followed, Wall Street Democrats Clinton and Obama offered only tepid support for unions or wages, and enacted their own trade laws (Clinton’s NAFTA, Obama’s Trans-Pacific Partnership) that further encouraged job offshoring and suppressed wages.
Since 1981, billionaires have continued to demand wage suppression. For example, six wealthy, conservative billionaire family fortunes funded Project 2025 giving directions to the Trump administration - the $100 billion Koch family (oil and gas), the huge Scaife Family Foundations (Mellon banking, aluminum, oil), and the Bradley (industrial parts), Uihlein (electronics, office supplies), Coors (brewing), and Seid (electronics) families.
Reaganomic policies have essentially frozen real average hourly compensation for the two generations from 1979 to 2025 for the vast “production, nonsupervisory” workforce - inching up a minuscule 0.6% annually.
That has enabled the national income share of the top 1% to double to 20.7%.
Consequently, U.S. children born in 1980 – with the misfortune of living their entire lives under Reaganomics – had earned on average at age 30 no more than their parents had at that age. As Isabel Sawhill of Brookings summarized, for “those born after about 1970 … absolute mobility has declined.”
This wage freeze, documented by BLS experts, was inevitable once Reagan embraced billionaires. For non-economists, the underlying explanatory economic theory – documented by a recent Nobel Prize – is that oligarchs routinely manipulate politics to maximize their own incomes. They create pantomime democracies like the U.S., called functional oligarchies. In contrast, that means democracy is a precondition for widespread prosperity - vibrant democracies like Denmark or Sweden see working- and middle-class men and women setting economic policy. The stark evidence: unlike northern Europe, U.S. income inequality is even greater than Russia's.
You have just read why Trump and the Republicans are hostile to democracy. They reject the economic principles of Founders like Thomas Jefferson and Thomas Paine, which hold that a vibrant democracy must corral oligarchs to realize inclusive, broadly based prosperity.
America is a Functional Oligarchy
Their real compensation frozen by elites since Reagan, 69% of Americans now view the American Dream as a pipedream – dismissing as myth the notion that grit and schooling alone will enable them to prosper. And a stunning 72% believe that America is no longer a democracy – with 87% of independents (and even 68% of Republicans) believing “the rich have too much political power.” They are angry with America’s functional oligarchy, a predatory system where families are daily fleeced - “bled dry by landlords, hospital administrators, university bursars and child-care centers” - an economic system that feels “downright terrible,” reports the Atlantic.
That reality is why many voters have difficulty distinguishing between the two political parties: neither Democrats nor Republicans are viewed as prioritizing the economic concerns of ordinary people.
Democratic Party Retooling: Populism and Anger at Republican Billionaires
Democratic centrists want the Party to retool in 2026 – move toward populist themes and away from cultural issues. “The Democratic Party must now run on the most populist economic platform since the Great Depression,” urges James Carville.
That starts with dramatizing the stunning BLS evidence that working- and middle-class wages have been frozen for two generations
And it means reprising Obama’s 2012 campaign of political conflict against the private equity CEO Mitt Romney. Mindful that 62% of independents believe the economy unfairly favors the wealthy, Democrats should channel voter economic frustration toward billionaire Republicans. They and Trump should be called out for their hostility and disdain for unions and working men and women.
This strategy upgrade would especially appeal to swing voters, disproportionately working-class men and women under economic pressure. And its populist foundation matches the profile of moderate Democrats like Kentucky Governor Beshear and Arizona Senator Gallego, who have overperformed recently with swing voters.
George Tyler is a former deputy assistant treasury secretary and World Bank official. He is the author of books including Billionaire Democracy and What Went Wrong.
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Waiting for the Door to Open: Advocates and older workers are left in limbo as the administration’s decision to abandon a harsh disability rule exists only in private assurances, not public record.
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Silence, Signals, and the Unfinished Story of the Abandoned Disability Rule
Jan 18, 2026
We reported in the Fulcrum on November 30th that in early November, disability advocates walked out of the West Wing, believing they had secured a rare reversal from the Trump administration of an order that stripped disability benefits from more than 800,000 older manual laborers.
The public record has remained conspicuously quiet on the matter. No press release, no Federal Register notice, no formal statement from the White House or the Social Security Administration has confirmed what senior officials told Jason Turkish and his colleagues behind closed doors in November: that the administration would not move forward with a regulation that could have stripped disability benefits from more than 800,000 older manual laborers. According to a memo shared by an agency official and verified by multiple sources with knowledge of the discussions, an internal meeting in early November involved key SSA decision-makers outlining the administration's intent to halt the proposal. This memo, though not publicly released, is said to detail the political and social ramifications of proceeding with the regulation, highlighting its unpopularity among constituents who would be affected by the changes.
Despite the absence of public acknowledgment, nothing in the intervening weeks suggests the rule has been revived. Since November 30, there have been no new entries on the administration's regulatory agenda. Key regulatory milestones have been bypassed, including deadlines for public comment periods and potential congressional hearings that would typically follow such a proposal. Additionally, no agency guidance or fresh reporting indicates a change in direction. The only developments from the Social Security Administration since November have concerned routine matters such as cost-of-living adjustments, modernization efforts, and internal restructuring, none of which affect the substance of the abandoned proposal. This lack of action stands out as an anomaly in standard federal rule-making practices, where a clear procedural timeline is typically observed.
For advocates, the lack of formal withdrawal is both reassuring and unsettling. Reassuring because every signal from inside the agency still points to the same conclusion: the rule is dormant. Unsettling because the decision that affects hundreds of thousands of vulnerable Americans exists only in private assurances, not in public commitments. As one advocate put it, 'We were told it was dead. But nothing is dead in Washington until it’s buried.' An administration spokesperson, however, might argue that the lack of a formal withdrawal is a standard due-process measure to ensure that all perspectives and interests are considered before finalizing any regulatory decision. They might emphasize that the administration is committed to balancing the needs of affected workers while ensuring sustainable policy outcomes.
The stakes remain enormous. The proposed rule would have redefined disability eligibility for older workers by effectively erasing age as a factor — a shift that would have hit hardest in communities already battered by economic transition: coal country, rural manufacturing towns, and regions where desk jobs are scarce and digital skills are not easily acquired late in life. The administration’s internal polling reportedly showed that older Trump voters overwhelmingly opposed such changes, a political reality that may have helped elevate the issue to the desks of senior officials in November.
But political sensitivity is not the same as policy certainty. Until the administration publicly affirms what it has privately conveyed, the disability community remains in a defensive crouch — vigilant, watchful, and aware that regulatory ideas have a way of resurfacing when attention drifts.
Perhaps concerns about the upcoming mid-term elections next November have played a role in the administration's reversal. As reported in November by the Fulcrum, "New polling by a Trump-aligned firm has suggested that older Trump voters would overwhelmingly oppose such changes to disability eligibility." According to the poll, 78% of voters over 55 opposed the rule, highlighting the political risk of moving forward with the proposed changes. In the wake of Democrats’ strong showing in recent elections, two people with knowledge of the situation said that the administration may have been particularly sensitive to these views. As one lobbyist put it, it’s all about the "elevation of an issue, and getting it on the right desks."
The deeper issue raised by this episode is not just the fate of a single regulation but the way major policy decisions can be made and unmade without the public ever being told. When a rule with the potential to reshape the lives of hundreds of thousands of disabled Americans can be advanced for years, nearly finalized, and then quietly shelved without a single formal notice, it exposes a structural weakness in how our government communicates with the people it serves. Transparency is not a procedural nicety; it is the foundation of democratic legitimacy. Legal frameworks such as the notice-and-comment process in administrative law underscore the principle that public participation is essential to developing regulations that reflect society's will and needs. Without such transparent processes, even good decisions can feel provisional and contingent on political winds rather than grounded in principle.
This is especially true in areas like Social Security disability, where the stakes are existential, and the public’s ability to monitor policy is limited by complexity. When agencies operate in the shadows — whether by design or inertia — trust erodes. People who depend on these programs are left to parse rumors, off‑the‑record assurances, and secondhand accounts from advocates who themselves are trying to interpret signals rather than respond to clear, public commitments. A system that governs millions of vulnerable Americans should not rely on whispered confirmations in West Wing hallways. It should rely on transparent processes, accountable leadership, and a shared understanding that decisions of this magnitude deserve daylight.
For now, the story is one of absence: no movement, no revival, no formal announcement. But in a system where silence can be strategic, it is also a reminder of how fragile protections can be when they depend on unwritten assurances rather than transparent governance.
David Nevins is the publisher of The Fulcrum and co-founder and board chairman of the Bridge Alliance Education Fund.
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A stack of books sitting on top of a table
Photo by Saung Digital on Unsplash
Vouchers, Patriotism and Prayer: The Trump Administration’s Plan to Remake Public Education
Jan 18, 2026
Linda McMahon, the nation’s secretary of education, says public schools are failing.
In November, she promised a “hard reset” of the system in which more than 80% of U.S. children learn. But rather than invest in public education, she has been working to dismantle the Department of Education and enact wholesale changes to how public schools operate.
“Our final mission as a department is to fully empower states to carry the torch of our educational renaissance,” she said at a November press conference.
To help her carry out these and other goals, McMahon has brought at least 20 advisers from ultraconservative think tanks and advocacy groups who share her skepticism of the value of public education and seek deep changes, including instilling Christian values into public schools.
ProPublica reporters Jennifer Smith Richards and Megan O’Matz spent months reporting and reviewing dozens of hours of video to understand the ideals and ambitions of those pulling the levers of power in federal education policy. They found a concerted push to shrink public school systems by steering taxpayer dollars to private, religious and charter schools, as well as options like homeschooling. The Education Department did not respond to a detailed list of questions from ProPublica.
They also found top officials expressing a vision for the remaining public schools that rejects the separation of church and state and promotes a pro-America vision of history, an “uplifting portrayal of the nation’s founding ideals.” Critics argue the “patriotic” curricula downplay the legacy of slavery and paper over episodes of discrimination.
Since its establishment in 1979, the Department of Education’s Office for Civil Rights has served as an enforcer of anti-discrimination laws in schools and colleges around the country. It’s the place parents turn to when they believe their schools failed to protect children from discrimination or to provide access to an equal education under the law.
The Trump administration laid off much of the office’s staff in its first months and prioritized investigations into schools that allegedly discriminated against white and Jewish students and accommodated transgender students. McMahon and the department have framed this as a course correction in line with efforts to be more efficient and curb diversity, equity and inclusion policies from prior administrations. It has left little recourse for those seeking to defend the rights of students with disabilities, students of color and those facing sex discrimination.
In this video, Smith Richards and O’Matz explain how McMahon and her advisers are reenvisioning the nation’s educational system and what that could mean for the future.
Nadia Sussman is a video journalist at ProPublica.
Jennifer Smith Richards and Megan O’Matz contributed reporting. Gerardo del Valle contributed cinematography and production. Mauricio Rodríguez Pons contributed graphics. Lisa Riordan Seville was the senior producer.
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A memorial for Ashli Babbitt sits near the US Capitol during a Day of Remembrance and Action on the one year anniversary of the January 6, 2021 insurrection.
(John Lamparski/NurPhoto/AP)
How Trump turned a January 6 death into the politics of ‘protecting women’
Jan 18, 2026
In the wake of the insurrection at the Capitol on January 6, 2021, President Donald Trump quickly took up the cause of a 35-year-old veteran named Ashli Babbitt.
“Who killed Ashli Babbitt?” he asked in a one-sentence statement on July 1, 2021.
“An innocent, wonderful, incredible woman, a military woman,” Trump said during a Fox News interview a few weeks later. Not everyone who went to the Capitol broke into the building, but she did. With a Trump flag draped over her shoulders like a superhero’s cape, Babbitt was part of the group who tried to gain access to the Speaker’s Lobby, just outside the House chamber. Another rioter smashed glass. As Babbitt tried to crawl through, a Capitol Police officer shot her from inside the lobby.
Video footage from the day shows Babbitt falling backward into the crowd as blood pours out of her mouth. After the shooting, many rioters began to flee the Capitol grounds. Babbitt was transported to Washington Hospital Center. She was declared dead upon arrival.
The officer who killed Babbitt was cleared of wrongdoing; Lt. Michael Byrd potentially saved lives by stopping the mob, lawmakers and police said.
But her death gave Trump’s Make America Great Again movement something it needed: a martyr.
Religiosity moves in
On Jan. 6, 2021, a political rally turned into an insurrection as Trump supporters stormed the Capitol in an attempt to stop the certification of electoral votes. (John Minchillo/AP Photo)A religious frame has been present in Trump’s politics since his rallies in the leadup to the 2016 election.
Jeffrey Sharlet, a veteran journalist and professor at Dartmouth College who was an early chronicler of the rise of Trumpism and its ties to religiosity, said these rallies were shaped by the prosperity gospel, a branch of Protestantism rooted in the supposition that, effectively, God wants you to be rich.
In 2020, the religious tenor was still there — but it had shifted to a more conspiratorial approach. Trump stopped merely “winking at QAnon” and began “invoking that level of conspiratorial thinking that has been absorbed into the DNA of the movement,” Sharlet said.
Before Babbitt’s death, Sharlet said, Trump had already been working to incorporate martyrs into his rhetoric, invoking a list of names, usually people who had been killed by immigrants in the country without legal status. They would typically fall into two categories, he said: “blonde White women and promising young Black men” — think Jamiel Shaw Jr., a rising football star in the midst of college applications who was shot and killed by a gang member who was in the country illegally, orSarah Root, who was killed by an undocumented drunk driver the day after her graduation from college.
Sharlet calls Babbitt “a perfect storm”: a White woman killed on camera in footage seen by millions, a Black man — the Capitol police officer — responsible for her death.
“That changed everything,” Sharlet said. “The first real martyr who really takes hold of Trumpism is a woman, and it gives the movement a real religiosity.”
And it set the stage for Trump to ascend into a kind of religious figure himself after a would-be assassin shot him in Butler, Pennsylvania, in July 2024.
“Every martyr disappears into the cult of personality,” Sharlet said. “She was a placeholder. She keeps the cross warm until Trump gets up there and he’s the martyr. Now, he’s the martyr for us all — but it started with a certain appeal to women.”
Martyrs can’t speak
Babbitt was an active participant in the insurrection — but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be reassigned the role of someone who needed protecting.
Sharlet recalled watching videos of Trump supporters talking about Babbitt in the wake of her death: “They’re aging her backward, they’re lowering her weight, they’re lowering her height, they’re turning her into a little girl.”
It was a blueprint for what was to come, he said of Babbitt: “The blondeness is important, the smallness is important, but so is the camouflage of being a veteran.”
Her race, too, was important, Sharlet said.
“It’s about the Whiteness of things. It’s not enough for them that a woman be murdered,” he said. “She has to be a little girl. She has to be White.”
Meghan Tschanz, a former missionary who has emerged as a critic of patriarchal systems in evangelical Christianity, drew a connection between Babbitt and Laken Riley, a college student whose murder by an immigrant who was in the country illegally was highlighted by Trump. Both women’s deaths became part of a larger narrative — one designed to accomplish a political goal, not mourn the victims.
Tschanz, who lives in Athens, Georgia — where Riley was killed — stressed that criticizing the politicization of Riley’s death is in no way a dismissal of the reality and severity of her killing. Rather, she said, politicization can dilute the pain of the loss in service to a larger narrative.
“Again and again, we see women die and the response isn’t, ‘Let’s make it so women don’t die.’ It’s, ‘Let’s make it so that I can use this to further my narrative that immigrants are evil,’” she said.
Riley’s father, Jason Riley — a Trump supporter — told NBC News about the pain of watching his daughter become a political tagline after Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene of Georgia, at the time a strong Trump ally, heckled President Joe Biden during his State of the Union speech in 2024, urging him to say Riley’s name.
“I think it’s being used politically to get those votes. It makes me angry. I feel like, you know, they’re just using my daughter’s name for that. And she was much better than that, and she should be raised up for the person that she is,” Jason Riley said. “She was an angel.”
It’s a dynamic also echoed in Babbitt’s death. Though Babbitt’s mother, Michelle Witthoeft, emerged as a leading advocate for the release of those who were arrested for their actions on January 6, she also has publicly grappled with the way in which her daughter’s death became something other than an acute family tragedy.
Witthoeft told The Washington Post in 2021, “Half the country loves her and half the country hates her,” she said. “It’s weird to have your child belong to the world.”
For Trump, Riley’s and Babbitt’s deaths helped reinforce the message that women’s lives are in danger and that they need to be saved — something he emphasized in his campaigns as he painted immigrants and his political opponents as threats.
“It all plays into the fears and vulnerabilities that women have to navigate, which is that women are more vulnerable to sexual and gender-based violence and women are tasked culturally with caring for the home and for their children,” said Hilary Matfess, an assistant professor at the University of Denver and the co-author of an analysis done by the Program on Extremism at George Washington University on gender and the January 6 insurrection. “So this message of scary immigrants are going to come in and destroy your communities with drugs and rape your women and children is intended to strike fear into a very specific demographic — namely, suburban White women.”
Matfess pointed to how the role of martyr cemented a view of Babbitt for Trump’s followers. She became someone who needed protecting, a figure whose memory is in need of constant, everlasting protection.
“Being put on a pedestal means you can’t move around too much,” Matfess said.
The ‘protection racket’
Michelle Witthoeft, Ashli Babbitt’s mother, participates in a demonstration in support of insurrectionists who were arrested and charged following the January 6, 2021 attack on the U.S. Capitol. (Tasos Katopodis/Getty Images)Matfess said there is a long-standing academic notion of the “protection racket,” in which a government offers protection from an imagined threat to deflect from the threat posed by the government itself. It’s something that can be used to keep women in subservient roles — and thus effectively in need of some form of protection from others.
“The Trump administration is not saying, ‘Wow, we should really expand access to prenatal health care’ or ‘We need more resources for women that are victims of domestic violence,’ because it is not about protecting women,” she said. “It’s about protecting certain men’s ability to wield power and influence under the banner of protection.”
Babbitt’s death in some ways challenged the narrative, too — she was part of the group trying to stop the certification of the election, not sitting by.
Matfess noted the ways that the Proud Boys — the far-right, all-men neo-fascist group that have become rigorous defenders of Trump and his agenda — insist on the fact that there are in fact no Proud Girls, often suggesting that the best way women can support the politics they espouse is by staying home and reproducing.
Matfess points to early rumors from within the far right that Babbitt was part of a false flag mission — evidence that the movement had to grapple with a woman who was attacking, not asking for protection.
“There’s a lot of utility to narratives that talk of attacks against women and children, and so it becomes that once they decided it wasn’t a false flag, that she was there of her own political beliefs, it becomes a compelling narrative of a woman sacrificing herself for this movement. Whether or not the movement would have been kind to her had she lived is besides the point,” Matfess said.
“The memorialization takes away the kind of difficult questions of how this movement would deal with women who are taking on more transgressive gender roles. Once someone’s a hero, you can leave it at that.”
How Trump turned a January 6 death into the politics of ‘protecting women’ was first published by The19th and republished with permission.
Jennifer Gerson is a reporter at The 19th.
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