“Now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark—that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.” — Hunter S. Thompson (1972)
The prosperity of the postwar era is sometimes difficult to fathom in our current age of imperial decline. After the war, the United States found itself in a situation unparalleled in world history: essentially untouched by the devastation of the worst war in human history, we controlled nearly half of the world economy with about 4% of its population. Our factories produced immense quantities of goods, our cities expanded with waves of suburbanization, the improvements to our social infrastructure begun by FDR were gradually expanded to incorporate more aspects of life. It is no wonder that many Americans of the period expected perpetual growth and improvement in quality of life.
Nonetheless, great challenges faced us even in these years of abundance. The greatest leader in our history, FDR, lay dead; his successor was an obscure senator from Missouri with 80 days of experience as Vice-President, who had been selected for the job due to political machinations during the wartime 1944 election. Europe and Asia were ruined, with control of their territory split between American/British forces and those of our erstwhile Soviet allies. The old European empires were broken, and their gradual fragmentations created power vacuums around the world. The wartime economy had to pivot as gracefully as possible to an emergent consumer market — no easy feat. And, of course, the country continued to neglect the rights and privileges of a significant number of its citizens, particularly (but not exclusively) in the South.
More than other books in the Oxford series, ‘Grand Expectations’ has a central thesis, one which is implicit in its title. This proves to be both a strength and a hindrance at times: it helps string together an incredibly eventful 3 decade narrative, but also sometimes causes Patterson to overfit his presentation of facts to the central point. Broadly, he argues that the historically unparalleled economic growth and the remarkable success of various programs that expanded rights and privileges led to overweening expectations about what was possible in life, which then deflated sharply, like an overfilled balloon, when they stuck on the major obstacles and disappointments of the late 1960s.
Overall, I think that the thesis is sound and well reasoned. I’m always wary of psychological explanations for historical events, but the psychology proposed here is sound and verifiable by common experience: when we inflate our expectations, we invite disappointment. Since frustrated aspirations are an inevitability in life, the blow is taken harder when there is a further distance to fall for a people who think that the world is their oyster. So it went for Americans of the postwar era: to many, it seemed that the torrent of prosperity would never slow, and that a triumphant America could impose its will on the world. As our national failures grew more apparent, and progress became more costly, the reaction was especially intense. While the push for legal equality was mostly triumphant, the subsequent demands for social and economic equality largely fell flat — the legacies of these latter struggles remain contentious to the present, perhaps because even the best governments can only take them so far.
To my surprise, Patterson casts a cold eye on the run of postwar presidents. He takes great care to show the failures and oversights of each. In accordance with his thesis, he demonstrates how the administration of each postwar president raised public expectations beyond what each government could feasibly accomplish.
Furthermore, each postwar president overestimated American strength abroad and mired us deeper in the type of seedy Cold War foreign policy most clearly exemplified by the Vietnam War. American leaders disastrously overestimated the unity of “world communism” and failed to understand both the fractious internal divisions within the Second World and the importance of post-colonial nationalist movements. Our unreasoning fear of the Soviet Union led us to some boneheaded actions, both domestically and abroad, and Americans are lucky that we escaped much worse outcomes — although, of course, many other countries suffered because of our mistakes.
While I think that Patterson makes a good case, I do suspect that some of his analysis is a product of the 1990s, when the books was written. The 90s saw the neoliberal consensus in full control; they were optimistic in a very different way, more convinced of the transformative power of the market than of government. By then, liberals and leftists of the older variety were endangered, if not quite extinct, and many of the survivors held the 1960s overreach to blame for their exile. The so-called New Left was indeed disastrous and its 1960s excesses led directly, albeit unintentionally, to the rise of Reagan and many of our current predicaments. The optimistic radicalism 60s was predicated on extreme individualism, which is ultimately antithetical to broad and lasting social movements. Americans are living with that legacy even now as we struggle to find a solid foundation to build upon or even simply resist the current erosive forces of ressentiment and revanchism.
So, looking out from amidst the historical trash heap of the 2020s, the accomplishments of the FDR-to-LBJ era may as well be the Five Good Emperors of Roman civilization. They seem so distant and remarkably different from the sordid political deeds of my own lifetime that they look like an ancient golden age. It is hard to imagine a government capable of passing massive legislation that actually helps ordinary citizens, that both expands rights *and* enables their exercise with funding and social infrastructure. I am nearing 40, and I have watched the destruction of most of the beneficial programs built in the postwar era under a run of mostly awful leaders. It is hard not to look wistfully at an LBJ, whose domestic accomplishments make all of his successors look like jokes, or an Eisenhower who led us with a restrained dignity that has mostly vanished from popular life. Whatever their flaws, this run of leaders was probably the best we’ve ever had for average Americans. Patterson is perhaps too critical of them, and I think he sometimes underrates what they built — we see it more clearly now that it is nearly gone.
I’ll close with a passage from ‘Democracy in America’ that identifies one of the tensions that led to the end the era under review — and perhaps remains one of the keys to the present, too:
“If a social state in which law or custom no longer keeps anyone in his place is joined to the taste for material well-being, this too greatly excites further restiveness of spirit: one will then see men change course continuously for fear of missing the shortest road that would lead them to happiness… When inequality is the common law of a society, the strongest inequalities do not strike the eye; when everything is nearly on a level, the least of them wound it. That is why the desire for equality always becomes more insatiable as equality is greater.” — Alexis de Tocqueville