The Constitution ended up giving the Senate more power,
and the president less power,
than Adams thought wise.
Jefferson thought the opposite.
“You are afraid of the one,” Adams wrote Jefferson,
“I, the few.… You are apprehensive of monarchy;
I, of aristocracy.”
Adams judged a strong president a natural ally of the many against the oligarchs.
That theory worked superbly with Franklin D. Roosevelt and reasonably well with John F. Kennedy.
It works not at all with Donald Trump.
Adams may have been naïve about the possibility that a rich sociopath like Trump might eventually come to power,
but in Mayville’s view,
Jefferson was just as naïve to believe that oligarchy would wither and die if government would only deny it power.
Mayville summarizes Jefferson’s view as
“Old World aristocracies would be replaced in the republican age by new natural aristocracies of virtue and talent.”
To a great extent that eventually happened,
aided in the twentieth century first by the spread of publicly funded high schools
where attendance was mandatory
and, at midcentury, by the spread of higher education.
Mayville summarizes Adams’s very different view as
“wealth and family name would continue to overpower virtue and talent.”
Half a century ago that judgment would have seemed hopelessly old-fashioned,
but it’s a lot harder to dismiss today.
Wealth accumulation among the very rich
and weaker inheritance taxation at the state and federal levels
brought a revival, in the words of the inequality expert Thomas Piketty, of
“patrimonial capitalism.”
Donald Trump is the consummate patrimonial capitalist,
with his real estate success built atop at least $413 million from his father;
with his surly, dim-witted older sons managing what’s left of the Trump Organization;
and with his more polished daughter Ivanka capitalizing on the family name.
Jefferson failed to anticipate that the voting public would resent his natural aristocracy of virtue and talent
—the people we today call meritocrats
—much more than trust fund brats and hedge fund billionaires.
Indeed, Adams defined “aristocrat”
(he also meant “oligarch”)
as those who exercise the most electoral sway.
“By aristocracy,” he wrote, “I understand all those men who can command, influence, or procure more than an average of votes.”
Why do rich people exert so much influence?
Money is the obvious answer,
and Adams acknowledged its power.
But in "The Discourses on Davila" (1790) he emphasized another, more psychological explanation.
There is, Adams wrote, a universal desire
“to be seen, heard, talked of, approved and respected, by the people about [us],
and within [our] knowledge.”
In short:
We all live to show off.
This is why Mills compared Adams to Veblen;
one might also compare Adams to the journalist Tom Wolfe,
the preeminent chronicler of social status in the late twentieth century.
Granted, among idealistic college students, associating oneself with the wretched of the earth yields greater status,
-- but for most of the rest of us associating oneself with the rich is what gets the job done.
Adams again (in The Discourses on Davila, quoted by Mayville):
Riches force the opinion on a man that he is the object of the congratulations of others,
and he feels that they attract the complaisance of the public.
His senses all inform him,
that his neighbors have a natural disposition to harmonize with all those pleasing emotions and agreeable sensations which the elegant accommodations around him are supposed to excite.…
As Trump put it in the Access Hollywood tape:
“Grab ‘em by the pussy. You can do anything.”
Sticklers might say Trump was talking about being a TV star,
not about being rich.
But the specific nature of Trump’s stardom was that he played an exaggerated version of himself on TV:
A very rich man who, because he is very rich, can get away with anything.
During his first presidential term,
Trump showed that he could transgress beyond our wildest dreams
—flout the woke hall monitors,
lie with abandon,
defy the law
—and get away with it
all because he was rich.
Even the many Trump voters who pulled the lever for him in 2024
while disapproving of his personal behavior
tend to envy the man.
Trump Envy isn’t the only political force out there;
that explains why he lost in 2020.
But it’s turned out to be shockingly powerful.
The United States grew more oligarchical over the past half-century,
with the rich accumulating ever-greater power over politics.
But Trump represents a quantum leap
—supercharged oligarchy
not in spite of the public will
but because of it.
Which makes ours a John Adams sort of moment.
This was as bleak an electoral outcome as the country has ever seen,
and democracy wasn’t the victim.
It was the cause.
(2/2)
https://newrepublic.com/article/189230/democracy-trump-musk-oligarchy-inequality