Obama and the Debt-Ceiling Debate: America as a Dysfunctional Family

One of Barack Obama’s most lamentable rhetorical errors in the interminable debt-ceiling debate has been, as several folks have observed, to accept and embrace the government-as-family metaphor. He did it again Monday night, in his tepid, a-few-days-late-and-several-dollars-short speech. It is a straight-up Republican talking point. Why? Because it totally undercuts and defenestrates Keynesian countercyclical investment principles: the idea, which is (or used to be) at the very heart of liberalism, that it’s precisely when the private sector cannot invest that the government must. But the metaphor does raise the question: If America were a family, what sort of family would we be? Let’s drop in on this family as they discuss finances around the kitchen table.

“Honey, did you read that letter from the credit-card company? Pretty ominous.”

“Now Victoria, don’t tell me you’re falling for that hooey!”

“What, that they’re gonna take away our card? And the letter from the bank about the missed mortgage payments? That’s hooey to you?”

“Honey, just let me handle this. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“At least one more.”

“OK. See—here’s the problem with these people. They actually think that for me to spend money, I ought to be bringing in money.”

“I have to admit that sort of makes sense to me.”

“Horsehairs! Bringing in revenue is the last thing we wanna do.”

“But why?”

“Because if you get money you’ll just spend and spend and spend. It never stops! We have to kick the habit! It’s like a drug! No, it’s worse: it’s like . . . slavery!”

“But Dad, there are things we need, you know. I’ve been wearing these eyeglasses for two years since the doctor told me I should get a new pair.”

“Yeah. And what about science camp, Dad? You know I’m one of the top science students in my class, and I can meet recruiters from top colleges there and stuff. Maybe get a scholarship.”

“They’re right, Roark! And don’t forget our basement. You yourself said how that crack has grown in the last year. What if five years from now—”

“Five years, schmive schmears! You’re just not getting it!”

“But, Dad, I really don’t understand. Cuz if I get a scholarship, that saves you money in the long run. So doesn’t that fit with your theory of not spending?”

“Ronnie, Ronnie, Ronnie. You’re so brainwashed, my son. You start this so-called investing in the future, and eventually the eyeglass people and the science people and the basement people own you! And they keep coming back, wanting to give you more eyeglasses and more science and more basement repairs! And then, the next thing you know: Poof! We’re in chains! And what’s so great about science, anyway? And Suzy, your eyes: If you paid attention to the right kinds of medical studies, and not that propaganda they feed you from those fancy-pants universities, you’d know that wearing the wrong glasses builds character! We didn’t whine about these things in my day!”

“Roark, I can’t believe you! And what about your mother? Ever since that second stroke her home care is costing almost a thousand a month, and she doesn’t have the money to pay. We have to help!”

“Victoria: I would love to help her out. She is my mother after all. But we just can’t. She’ll get by. And frankly, I suspect that she can get to the bathroom alone.”

“Well, you say we can’t afford it, but in the meantime, you’re shelling out about $1,200 a month to our lawyer for not one but two lawsuits against our neighbors. Can you explain to me why we need to keep pursuing two endless lawsuits at the same time? Especially since it looks to me like we’re gonna have a hard time really and truly winning either one of them.”

“Darling, will you just leave that to me, please? That’s man stuff. The fact is that if we drop these lawsuits, especially the one against Mr. Pashto, we’re going to look sooooo weak to the rest of the neighborhood. Is that what you want, everybody in the neighborhood filing suit against us, laughing in our faces when we threaten to sue?”

“Uh . . . I’m really not sure that’s how the world actually works.”

“Like I said: This is man stuff. Anyway, the suit against the Sumerians is winding down.”

“Yeah, but it cost us $200,000! More than you make in three years! And what did we get out of it?”

“We sent a message. And what the hell kind of name is Sumerian anyway? Never did like that jerk.”

“Bullchips! You two were best buddies back in the '80s, you used to say!”

“Ronnie, you watch that mouth! Things changed. I told you all a million times: In the aughts, things happened, and I had to create my own reality. It was all for the safety of you and your sister there. ”

“Their safety? Mr. Sumerian never did anything to them, never threatened them.”

“Damn straight, and I made sure of it!”

“Oh, please. Well, even that one isn’t as bad as this Mr. Gottrocks business. It never made any sense to me and never will.”

“Honey, I’ve told you a thousand times. This is the most important thing of all. And kids, I want you to listen up here, too. It’s true that Mr. Gottrocks is a rich man. I think he makes about $1 million a year, maybe more. And I know his taxes are nearly at an all-time low. But he needs our money! Because when I give him his $200 a month, I take comfort knowing that someday, in some way, he’s going invest that money in ways that will eventually benefit us. About eyeglasses, and college, and basements—it’s best that he make these decisions for us. That, beloved wife and children, is the definition of freedom. Is it all clear now?”

Like it or not, this is the family we are. Obama is hoping for a “victory” that will merely reinforce these priorities. He ought to be extending the metaphor and showing Americans how things could and should be different.