NOTES FROM THE HINTERLAND
THE NOTION OF THE GOOD LIFE
By Laurie Meunier Graves
Allow me, if you will, to take you back to an era in the United States that
from today’s vantage point has almost begun to seem like a halcyon time.
Yes, there were conflicts aplenty—an ugly generation gap, an even uglier
war, racial and gender tensions, rampant hedonism, and paradoxically, a
strange kind of extremism, on both the left and the right, that felt
suspiciously like Puritanism. I am referring, of course, to the 1960s and
early 1970s, the decades of my childhood and youth, a period when, despite
the many conflicts, the good life appeared to be within the grasp of all but
the poorest.
My aunt and uncle lived in Norridgewock, Maine, which seemed far removed
from the turmoil of the nation and the world. (Remember, this was in the
days before the Internet and CNN.) They lived in a nice house with plenty of
land. They had a camp, a boat, snowmobiles, and a camper. They had a new car
every two years. Their two daughters, my cousins, had a goodly assortment of
toys when they were young and nice clothes to wear. There was an abundance
of food and hospitality in this house, and I have many fond memories of my
aunt’s and uncle’s generosity, which somehow was never at odds with their
innate frugality. Most importantly, never once did I hear my aunt and uncle
fret about health care or prescription drugs or retirement benefits, and it
was never a topic of conversation between my parents. Trust me, if it had
been an issue I would have heard of it. In a Franco-American family, there
are few problems that aren’t vocally and repeatedly debated for all to hear.
In North Vassalboro, Maine, my own family lived in similar comfort. Except
for the canopy bed and the princess phone that I still brood about in the
dark of the night, there were few material things missing from my life. I
had books, toys, clothes, health care, drugs when I was sick, and more than
enough to eat. There was money for college. There was money for a trip to
France. My father looked forward to his retirement and never spoke of having
to work into his seventies because he couldn’t afford to retire sooner.
And what were the jobs that supported these comfortable life styles?
President or vice president of a large company? Lawyer? Doctor? Business
owner? Family money? No, it was none of these. My aunt and my uncle were
factory workers in the local shoe shop. My father was in middle management
at Hathaway Shirt Company, where his salary was decent but not high, and my
mother didn’t work outside the home. Yet, both families made enough money to
live what might be considered the good life. Transportation, college
tuition, and housing were well within the reach of a working class family
and a family with only one wage earner. Health care, vacation time, and
retirement pensions were benefits provided by the workplace. There was money
for extras.
Reflecting on this situation has led me to consider two questions: what is
the good life, and is it still within easy reach of working class families in
Maine as well as in the rest of the United States? It’s a complex issue, and
one that this essay can only begin to explore. However, there are definite
clues that society has changed, and what was taken for granted thirty years
ago is no longer a given.
Before going any further, I suppose it is necessary to explore the notion of
the good life, an elusive concept that defies easy definition. However, in
previous essays, I’ve attempted to define art, even though I could feel,
metaphorically speaking, the ice cracking around me. Why not tackle the good
life?
Perhaps it is best to start out by acknowledging that the notion of the good
life has changed over the centuries. Once upon time, an average family was
content if there was enough food to eat, they lived in a snug home, and a
few of their children survived to adulthood and didn’t die until they were,
say, fifty. Until recently, none of these things were taken for granted, and
working toward these goals, modest by modern industrial standards, was
hard, serious work. My own maternal great grandmother and great grandfather,
who were raising their family on a farm in northern Maine in the early
1900s, did not take them for granted. Their life revolved around the
seasons, and it was not an easy one. They worked in the fields, grew or
raised most of their own food, and had very little leisure time. According
to my mother, two of my great grandparents’ babies died before they were a
year old. The surviving children were expected to work on the farm, and
eighth grade was considered the pinnacle of education. As far as I know,
neither my grandmother nor her siblings ever went to high school.
But things changed, and not all of the change was bad. True, my great
grandparents lost their farm during the depression, but my grandmother lived
her later years in comfort, my mother finished high school, and in recent
times, no one in the family has had a child die in infancy. And what brought
about these changes? The age of machines and science. Medicine and
laborsaving devices. Yes, I know. This age has also brought its share of
problems, and many of them seem overwhelming. Yet, it has also brought
blessings, a longer and more comfortable life for many, many people, and
it’s important to keep this in mind. (Those who doubt this should take a few
moments to consider what life is like for everyday people in places that,
for various reasons, have not entered the age of machines and science.) In
this new age, people could expect to live past fifty, go to high school,
plan on how many children they wanted (or if they even wanted them at all),
have enough time and money to travel, go to movies and plays, buy books.
This list goes on and on, and it became the template for the new good life.
No longer was it enough to survive, to have shelter, and have plenty to eat.
Education, the arts, leisure time, healthcare, and access to medicine quickly
seemed to become available for all people, not just the very rich.
After World War II, this new notion of the good life became more and more
evident. FDR, with his New Deal programs certainly pushed America in that
direction, and the GI bill only added speed and momentum to this trend.
However, it would be wrong to ignore the role businesses, factories, and the
unions all played in our society’s transformation from a hardscrabble life
for workers and farmers to a life that included better health, more leisure,
and more opportunities. I will admit that the early days of the factories
were not promising. Their legacy includes child labor, low pay, long days,
and horrendous workplace injuries. But for a short time, say, for about
twenty years, from the 1950s to the early 1970s, new laws and the unions
made the factories safer, the work week bearable, and, most importantly,
provided wages and benefits that would enable everyday people to live a life
of comfort, even after they retired.
In fact, during this period, life seemed so good that there didn’t seem to
be any need to interfere with it, to tinker with it, to provide a safety net
in case something should go wrong. The United States rejected the path that
much of Europe and Scandinavia took toward an ever-increasing governmental
safety net. Despite President Johnson’s Great Society initiatives, in this
country, we essentially decided we didn’t need government programs
and regulations to make life better. We had businesses to look after us, to
provide for us in times of need. All that was necessary were loyalty and
hard work. It was a clear case of capitalism at its finest, and the country
thrummed with pride over what the free market had accomplished. Even though
I was just a child, I remember how doctors howled in protest at the mere
mention of a national health care plan. Socialized medicine, they cried,
will be the ruin of this great country. Leave the market economy alone. Life
is good, the feeling went, and we don’t need government sticking its nose
where it doesn’t belong.
In the 1960s and early 1970s, this logic was hard to argue with. After all,
who could have foreseen what would happen, that factories would move
overseas and leave working class people with few alternatives? That nothing,
really, would take their place? That technology jobs, once so promising,
would follow the factories overseas? That the remaining businesses would be
less and less willing to provide benefits and health care? That some
businesses would even plot against workers and deprive of them of their
pensions? In those bright decades, it seemed like an impossible notion.
Perhaps that was why Ronald Reagan could get away with saying that
government was the problem not the solution. It hadn’t yet dawned on people
how things had changed with businesses. It should have. By then, the trend
had started, but denial is a human tendency.
So now the United States is in a precarious position. To a large extent, it
has eschewed the role of government in providing social services, but it can
no longer rely on factories and big businesses, on the market economy, to
provide the means necessary for a good life. It seems that both government
and business have turned their backs on this responsibility. Retail stores,
which employ people who might have worked in factories, can’t or won’t
provide benefits and wages that factories once provided. Nowadays, earning
$7 per hour, workers are hard-pressed to afford even the basics for a
family, much less the things we equate with a good life—higher education,
healthcare, transportation, vacations. We know people who are working in
such jobs eighty hours a week just so that they can pay their bills. We know
people who work full time who can’t afford health insurance, whose cars are
so old that they need constant maintenance, who don’t even own a home, much
less a camp.
This is why, despite the recent seemingly good news about the economy,
people do not feel secure. Yes, they might be working, but what kind of jobs
do they have? And is it possible to provide a good life with most of these
jobs? We know what the answer is. Now, we just have to figure out what it
will take to get this country back on track so that everyday people will
feel that the good life is within reach. If we don’t, then all the progress
we made will slowly seep away, and we will no longer be world leaders.
Because without a vital working and middle class, prosperity, optimism, and
innovation—the things that made America a great country—will simply go
someplace else.
