Dear Senator Obama:
First, let me offer my congratulations. No, I’m not trying to jinx you. And yes, I remember New Hampshire. But let’s be honest: You’ve arrived. The cat is in the bag. The check’s in the mail. The fat lady has sung. And, as much as I respect Senator McCain, and as much as I’m still undecided for which of you I’ll vote in November, my gut (in chorus with others) has convinced me that you’ll garner enough votes to make you the next POTUS, regardless of what the waffling fence-sitters do.
It is under this assumption of your eventual victories — for the Democratic nom and the General win — that I’m compelled to ask you, when you are President, to please take it slow. Proceed with caution.
I know. I know.
I know you’ve run an inspiring campaign, tucked and cornered on change. Your promises on the trail echo revolution more than evolution. Besides, you’ll probably have solid Democratic majorities in both chambers of Congress, at least in your first two years in office, and the temptation to take advantage of that opportunity will be overwhelming. Honestly, who could resist the siren’s call?
But despite the opportunity, despite everyone’s expectations and demands, I implore you: Proceed with your revolution one careful step at a time.
You’ve already promised that you’ll be judicious in withdrawing our troops from Iraq, and for that, I applaud you. It’s the right way to go. Steady and sure, not precipitous. Like you, I questioned the war from day one. Unlike you, I conceded to the surge and prayed that, at the very least, it would begin to stabilize the country in question — which it has, to a significant if not complete degree. Good. Let’s now take the opportunity to gradually bring our men and women home, given them some rest, and allow them to prepare for re-deployment in other areas of perhaps more critical need.
Please take the same approach to your domestic policies. I know there are millions desperately in need of health insurance. I recognize that FDR’s grand experiment in social security is in crisis, and I fully appreciate how that crisis will be further complicated by the approaching tsunami of retiring Boomers. But from what I’ve read of your plans to address these matters, they will hit hard the pocketbooks of families like ours.
To some extent, I’m OK with that. I don’t like it; but I can live with it … especially if it’s something that’s phased in gradually. See, while my family and I have been fortunate to work our way into a high-ranking percentile of wage earners in this country, we’re still a very, very long way from being Bill Gates or Warren Buffett, Tiger Woods or George Clooney, or any of the other multi-million/billion-aires in this country. Yes, we’re comfortable. Sure, we could afford to downsize a little, and we’re seriously thinking about it. But that doesn’t mean we’re not without our challenges.
In the realm of downsizing, it’s a little tough to sell the house right now. We’ve lent significant money to family members in need. Our respective parents are months if not days away from serious, age-related health problems that would require us to subsidize their care — which we would gladly do, of course; they are our parents, after all, and we love them and owe our lives to them. Additionally, our only child has daunting health challenges, plus we’re getting ready to bite the bullet and send him to college, which we’re trying to do in a way that doesn’t saddle him or us with a level of debt that would (in turn) further loosen the moorings on our, as of yet, unsecured retirement.
I know it’s unfair for me to worry about these things when my income and assets are well beyond those of the middle class. I fully appreciate that the threats and challenges and unknowns we face pale in comparison to so many others. But I hope you’ll also recognize that — unlike Gates, Buffett, Woods, Clooney, and others in their ballpark — we’re not immune to the threats, challenges, and unknowns that could send us to the proverbial “poor house.” Add one or two significant cash-burning obligations to our plate, and we’re toast, with our hands out asking for help, just like all the others you propose helping. Honestly, I don’t want to go there. I don’t want our family to add to the aggregated social burden.
On the other hand, I’m convinced we can mitigate the chances of such a slide, if you’ll just — when implementing your expanded safety net — allow for a phase-in period, a set of ramp-up stages or steps. Give families like ours two or four or six years to adjust and prepare. There’s good reason to believe such a phase-in period would not only be smart, but viable.
1. Sudden shocks to household economics prompt consumers to freeze or dramatically curtail spending, which would have its own negative ripple effect on the economy, compounding the challenges you want to fix.
2. When major wars end, economies tend to rebound. Plus, in the current environment, there’s an argument to be made that, if massive spending on the Iraq war contributed to the credit markets’ collapse (along with the whole subprime mess), then cessation or reduction of war-spending might contribute to those same markets’ recovery. In turn, such outcomes would give you more time and money and latitude to implement your domestic programs; to phase-in your tax adjustments.
3. If you follow Senator McCain’s dogged determination on cost-cutting, waste-fighting, and earmark-resistance, some of the $3 trillion in the latest proposed GWB budget could be readily re-deployed to more productive ends.
In short, Senator Obama, I’m convinced you can have your cake, eat it, and avoid raising the risk that families like ours move from contributors to takers, if you’ll just use your considerable wisdom and move slow.
Granted, your party’s base will cry foul, dismissing our family’s concerns as nothing more than the unwarranted moaning of the well off. But please trust me; I’m not saving up to by a jet ski or boat or third car or anything like that. Again, I’m just trying to build enough cushion that I don’t have to ask for your help.
My Republican and Republican-leaning counterparts will also cry foul. They’ll insist that no tax increase is a good increase; that rather than asking for a phase-in of tax increases, we should be fighting all tax increases tooth and nail; that we should even go a step further, and seek more tax reductions for families like ours. But I’m not of the same mind. I’m more in the McCain-of-2001 camp, the McCain who voted against the Bush tax cuts, preferring cost-cutting measures over tax reductions.
Hell, I could even take it a step further: Our federal government has budgeted an average spend of $10,000 for each man, woman, and child in this country — $10K per capita x 300MM population = $3 trillion Bush budget — which hardly seems enough per capita when you consider the scope of our infrastructure, R&D, military, and other such needs, not even counting social needs. So yes, I’m willing to concede that maybe some additional tax revenue is in order. I’m also increasingly convinced that a more vibrant middle-class would be good for all of us, and if it takes a little Keynesian economics to enable that revived middle-class, so be it.
At the same time, I’m not willing to return to the pre-Reagan years of strangulation-by-taxation. Nor do you seem willing to return to those years — which gives me hope that you’ll also be willing to pursue your domestic plans with caution, recognizing that as big as the gap is between my family and today’s middle class, there’s an even more sizable gap between us and the super-rich/super-secure.
Like you, I’m not whining. I’m just asking.