The Joke of the American Dream

Recently, I was convinced to watch the first episode of the HBO series The Sopranos. The show follows the leader of the declining mob in New Jersey and his family in the late 1990s and early 2000s. The tone of the episode is a yearning for a former time, an era where the American Dream was truly in reach. Tony Soprano, the main character, describes feeling as though he was late to the game, as though he joined a successful empire as its success waned. Even in 1999, before the 2008 housing market crash and recession, there was a desire to return to the era of American perfection, but has that ever existed? Is it even possible to “Make America Great Again” if it was never truly great to begin with? Who defines this greatness, especially if that greatness is only achievable for some?

In Tony Soprano’s case, this desire is related to the golden years of mobs in the United States, when mobs truly ran the economy and controlled labor unions. The discussion of the possibility of a truly free economy devoid of oligarchical or intimidating manipulation is a far more complicated one, but the notion that there has ever been a “great” America is much simpler: it has never existed. To chase this impossible dream endangers political stability, economic progress, and societal wellbeing. It ignores the plights of those subjugated during this era of greatness and demands a return to “the way things were” that seemed to work, despite the fact that the context of that era differs so greatly from today. But even if the circumstances were identical the people demanding this policy return would still not be appeased because of the global paradigm.

The era in question, when America was truly “great,” is typically understood as Ronald Reagan’s presidency, when democracy defeated communism, the military was expanded dramatically, and perceived social conundrums were solved post-haste. To take this perspective, however, is to understand social progress as an indication of economic progress. The “issues” in question resulted in Reaganomics and the War on Drugs, both of which disadvantaged groups already at risk, and further, they punished these groups for issues that were either created or enabled by the system that preceded them.

The War on Drugs was an attempt to deter recreational drug use in the United States; however, the implementation of this idea targeted those most at risk of drug abuse: minorities and, more specifically, black Americans. These communities suffered economically due to antiquated, racist holdovers from centuries before, along with structural injustices that made social and economic mobility much harder for them. Additionally, systemic racism within law enforcement derived from stereotypes caused these groups to be more prevalent targets, and the strict drug policies caused people suffering from addiction to be incarcerated for non-violent crimes for most of their life, if not all of it. As most prisons are privately owned, this enriched those incarcerating these individuals, and this entire system resulted in the enabling of further stereotyping, incarceration, and discrimination, setting entire groups back socially and economically. This is a prime example of how the “great” America that is so yearned for was really only great for some. For those unaffected, it seemed ideal, but a country’s greatness cannot only be determined by the individuals prospering the most. Prosperity for some at the detriment of others is not actually prosperity, and suffering should not be the focus only when those at the top of the societal food chain are suffering.

Even further back, if the “great” America in question is at the country’s founding in the 18th century, this issue is even further exacerbated. Concessions were made to southern states to continue enslavement with the expectation that they join the union, indigenous Americans weren’t even recognized as people, and women were understood as the property of the men around them. Furthermore, the founding fathers anticipated that their ideals were imperfect, and a system to modernize the government and Constitution as necessary were developed. They understood that their society was not the same as it would be centuries later: technology would advance, social values would change, and the global context would shift dramatically, so allowances were made to create a democratic system that properly reflected these anticipated changes. If even the men that designed this country were aware of their fallibility, to see any moment in our collective history as anything other than imperfect is a dangerous fallacy that ignores our mistakes and discourages progress.

As Albert Einstein famously said, “Stupidity is doing the same thing, over and over again, but expecting different results.” To replicate our history is to be ignorant of our path forward and our goals as a society. We aim to achieve the American Dream with the tools given to us by our democracy as it has evolved. If the American Dream hasn’t been realized with past efforts, then to see these eras as “close enough” because they improved the efforts of some to realize this goal while neglecting the rest of the population is to continue and enable the same mistakes. If something isn’t working, especially for a majority, or even if it is working but actively hurts certain members of the community, then it should not be considered our solution. We can’t idolize history. We can’t erase the parts of history that make us uncomfortable. We can’t pretend that our democracy is anything close to perfect, and we cannot complacently satisfy ourselves if we witness passive or indirect injustice. A “great” America has never been the case for every citizen, therefore it has never been the case at all, so to return to any “greatness” is to move backwards, retreating from our ultimate goal as a society. If we truly value the “American Dream,” then its accessibility cannot be contingent on uncontrollable social factors, or we must change our goals.

Cover image by Brandon Mowinkel on Unsplash