Sometimes it’s easier to just follow precedent. Sometimes it’s just easier to just stay within the confines of what is generally accepted by most experts. When one challenges any status quo, ridicule and attacks inevitably follow. After the release of The Forgotten Man, Amity Shlaes’ new interpretation of the effects of government intervention during the Great Depression, much criticism followed. Critic Eric Rauchway wrote that Shlaes was misleading with statistics about unemployment, citing a third of the people Shlaes counted as unemployed had a job that New Deal programs gave them. While Shlaes also received much praise for the book, it’s evident that it’s an anti-New Deal book, and she does not try to hide that fact. Throughout the book, Shlaes argues that both the Hoover and FDR administrations actually prolonged the Depression, while also creating a culture of fear for entrepreneurship and a phony economy. While it seemingly has an agenda behind it, The Forgotten Man provides a balanced, compelling, and important interpretation of the time period.
In the book’s introduction, Shlaes implies that today most seem to have forgotten who the true “forgotten man” is. She differentiates Franklin Roosevelt’s definition, the victim of laissez faire capitalism, from classical liberal William Sumner’s definition, the victim of lost economic liberty. Sumner wrote, “As soon as A observes something which seems to him to be wrong, from which X is suffering, A talks it over with B, and A and B propose to get a law passed to remedy the evil and help X. Their law always proposes to determine...what A, B, and C shall do for X.” Shlaes adds, “But what about C? There was nothing wrong with A and B helping X. What was wrong was the law, and the indenturing of C to the cause. C was the forgotten man, the man who paid, ‘the man who never is thought of.’” She continues, “Whereas C had been Sumner’s forgotten man, the New Deal made X the forgotten man- the poor man, the old man, labor, or any other recipient of government help.” (Shlaes, p. 12)
While most historians prefer to focus on the hardships of the early Depression, Shlaes focuses on the stories of victims of the late Depression, likely to illustrate and universalize her thesis. “This was a depression within the Depression. It was occurring five years after Franklin Roosevelt was first elected, and four and a half years after Roosevelt introduced the New Deal.” (Shlaes, p. 3) Similar to how previous New Deal historians glorified FDR, Shlaes glorifies principally forgotten men in history. Two such figures, Father Divine and Bill Wilson (co-founder of Alcoholics Anonymous), prevailed despite of government intervention, not because of it. Shlaes’ true anti-hero, however, was businessman Wendell Willkie. Throughout the book, Shlaes describes Willkie as initially receptive and compliant with New Deal reforms, but increasingly outspoken and influentially critical of them. Shlaes describes Willkie as a true classical liberal who had a grassroots and passionate following. “Before a crowd estimated at 200,000, and with the weather 102 degrees in the shade, Willkie asked the public to think about what it meant to be an American liberal. Was a liberal merely a left progressive? Or was a liberal someone who believed...in the primacy of the individual and his freedom?” (Shlaes, p. 374) Shlaes quotes Willkie: “I am a liberal because I believe that in our industrial age there is no limit to the productive capacity of any man. “Liberal” has been a nasty word to conservatives for decades, but Shlaes’ discussion of its connotation throughout the book is a great example of how she is trying to shift the official narrative of American history.
As Shlaes chronicles the period, she uses a unique approach to reveal the New Deal’s limitations and failures. She initially puts a positive spin on the New Deal, at least from the average American’s perspective. “The country was in no mood to in any case to put Roosevelt’s concepts under a microscope. What mattered was change: like an invalid, the country took pleasure in the very thought of motion.” (Shlaes, p. 150) In other words, the country wanted extraordinary changes because those were extraordinary times. Shlaes describes the goals for the Agricultural Adjustment Administration, with a quote from its leader, George Peek, saying the organization would enable farmers “to do something for themselves that they have been prevented from doing.” (Shlaes, p. 154) Inevitably, though, Shlaes claims these were false hopes. Twenty pages after praising the optimism the AAA created, she claims evidence proved it was not helping small-farm owners at all.
Yet Shlaes additionally breaks from the traditional Depression narrative by arguing Herbert Hoover’s policies were more in line with FDR than Calvin Coolidge. Shlaes had nothing but praise for Coolidge, and mostly criticism for Hoover, whom she blames for worsening the Depression, not because he didn’t do anything, but because he did too much. “Hoover believed that government might help business do better, functioning as a sort of beneficent hand. Coolidge liked Adam Smith’s old invisible hand.” (Shlaes, p. 18) Hoover put pressure on businesses to not cut wages, had full faith in government planning, did not have full faith in the stock market, and intervened in the national economy with the Reconstruction Finance Corporation. To Shlaes, the most important reason to blame Hoover for the Depression was his support for the Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act, a law creating a giant tariff which many prominent economists criticized before its passing.
Shlaes is most critical, however, of FDR and his Brain Trust. Overall, she portrays them as dreamers with big ideas but little knowledge of how to apply those ideas in the real world. She also is critical of their reactionary and impulsive response to the Depression. “The main tasks Roosevelt assigned himself were simple. The first was that there be a broad sweep of activity; Americans must know Washington was doing something. If there were contradictions between experiments and within them, well, that did not matter.” (Shlaes, p. 149) Shlaes’ analysis the Brain Trust is thorough. She spends several pages examining their travels to the Soviet Union, and the undeniable spell the country cast on them. The Depression was a rare chance for their experimental ideas to shine, for it’s likely they would not have such an opportunity any other time. Though not explicitly, Shlaes ultimately blames the Brain Trust, first and foremost, for prolonging the Depression.
One surprising revelation that adds to the validity of Shlaes’ criticism of the New Deal was the ability of societies across the country to adapt to the harshest conditions of the Depression. Despite being dependent on a modern world, Americans were persevering in ways that demonstrated the strength of the human spirit. One such example was what local communities did in response to money shortages across the country. “Locals reached into their pockets and, finding nothing, began to trade work and objects. Barbers traded shaves and haircuts for onions and Idaho potatoes.” (Shlaes, p. 105) Whether it was the rise of bartering in Utah or the movement to abandon cities and farm in California and New York, Shlaes cited many examples of Americans adapting to harsh times in their own, unique, ways, yet often forming communities in the process, outside of government interference. Again, Shlaes’ emphasis was that Americans succeeded despite of, not because of, the government.
Some question Shlaes’ motives for writing this book, that her primary goal is to create a conservative spin on the Depression. She is, after all, an unabashedly enthusiastic supporter of Coolidge, and does not hide this fact in the book. However, Shlaes persuasively convinces the reader that the primary purpose of The Forgotten Man is to seek the truth. She challenges the narrative that the New Deal helped our country when it most needed it, providing evidence throughout the book that the New Deal instead prolonged the Depression. She also argues it failed because of the fact it caused entrepreneurship to be on the decline and constantly on the defense. While previous historians may have questioned how much the New Deal really helped when the Depression went on for so long, Shlaes revolves an entire book about it. It’s an important and necessary perspective to have a truly balanced understanding of the time period. The Forgotten Man reveals why fiscal policy remains so controversial today, and why there’s a compelling case that the debate must continue.
In the book’s introduction, Shlaes implies that today most seem to have forgotten who the true “forgotten man” is. She differentiates Franklin Roosevelt’s definition, the victim of laissez faire capitalism, from classical liberal William Sumner’s definition, the victim of lost economic liberty. Sumner wrote, “As soon as A observes something which seems to him to be wrong, from which X is suffering, A talks it over with B, and A and B propose to get a law passed to remedy the evil and help X. Their law always proposes to determine...what A, B, and C shall do for X.” Shlaes adds, “But what about C? There was nothing wrong with A and B helping X. What was wrong was the law, and the indenturing of C to the cause. C was the forgotten man, the man who paid, ‘the man who never is thought of.’” She continues, “Whereas C had been Sumner’s forgotten man, the New Deal made X the forgotten man- the poor man, the old man, labor, or any other recipient of government help.” (Shlaes, p. 12)
While most historians prefer to focus on the hardships of the early Depression, Shlaes focuses on the stories of victims of the late Depression, likely to illustrate and universalize her thesis. “This was a depression within the Depression. It was occurring five years after Franklin Roosevelt was first elected, and four and a half years after Roosevelt introduced the New Deal.” (Shlaes, p. 3) Similar to how previous New Deal historians glorified FDR, Shlaes glorifies principally forgotten men in history. Two such figures, Father Divine and Bill Wilson (co-founder of Alcoholics Anonymous), prevailed despite of government intervention, not because of it. Shlaes’ true anti-hero, however, was businessman Wendell Willkie. Throughout the book, Shlaes describes Willkie as initially receptive and compliant with New Deal reforms, but increasingly outspoken and influentially critical of them. Shlaes describes Willkie as a true classical liberal who had a grassroots and passionate following. “Before a crowd estimated at 200,000, and with the weather 102 degrees in the shade, Willkie asked the public to think about what it meant to be an American liberal. Was a liberal merely a left progressive? Or was a liberal someone who believed...in the primacy of the individual and his freedom?” (Shlaes, p. 374) Shlaes quotes Willkie: “I am a liberal because I believe that in our industrial age there is no limit to the productive capacity of any man. “Liberal” has been a nasty word to conservatives for decades, but Shlaes’ discussion of its connotation throughout the book is a great example of how she is trying to shift the official narrative of American history.
As Shlaes chronicles the period, she uses a unique approach to reveal the New Deal’s limitations and failures. She initially puts a positive spin on the New Deal, at least from the average American’s perspective. “The country was in no mood to in any case to put Roosevelt’s concepts under a microscope. What mattered was change: like an invalid, the country took pleasure in the very thought of motion.” (Shlaes, p. 150) In other words, the country wanted extraordinary changes because those were extraordinary times. Shlaes describes the goals for the Agricultural Adjustment Administration, with a quote from its leader, George Peek, saying the organization would enable farmers “to do something for themselves that they have been prevented from doing.” (Shlaes, p. 154) Inevitably, though, Shlaes claims these were false hopes. Twenty pages after praising the optimism the AAA created, she claims evidence proved it was not helping small-farm owners at all.
Yet Shlaes additionally breaks from the traditional Depression narrative by arguing Herbert Hoover’s policies were more in line with FDR than Calvin Coolidge. Shlaes had nothing but praise for Coolidge, and mostly criticism for Hoover, whom she blames for worsening the Depression, not because he didn’t do anything, but because he did too much. “Hoover believed that government might help business do better, functioning as a sort of beneficent hand. Coolidge liked Adam Smith’s old invisible hand.” (Shlaes, p. 18) Hoover put pressure on businesses to not cut wages, had full faith in government planning, did not have full faith in the stock market, and intervened in the national economy with the Reconstruction Finance Corporation. To Shlaes, the most important reason to blame Hoover for the Depression was his support for the Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act, a law creating a giant tariff which many prominent economists criticized before its passing.
Shlaes is most critical, however, of FDR and his Brain Trust. Overall, she portrays them as dreamers with big ideas but little knowledge of how to apply those ideas in the real world. She also is critical of their reactionary and impulsive response to the Depression. “The main tasks Roosevelt assigned himself were simple. The first was that there be a broad sweep of activity; Americans must know Washington was doing something. If there were contradictions between experiments and within them, well, that did not matter.” (Shlaes, p. 149) Shlaes’ analysis the Brain Trust is thorough. She spends several pages examining their travels to the Soviet Union, and the undeniable spell the country cast on them. The Depression was a rare chance for their experimental ideas to shine, for it’s likely they would not have such an opportunity any other time. Though not explicitly, Shlaes ultimately blames the Brain Trust, first and foremost, for prolonging the Depression.
One surprising revelation that adds to the validity of Shlaes’ criticism of the New Deal was the ability of societies across the country to adapt to the harshest conditions of the Depression. Despite being dependent on a modern world, Americans were persevering in ways that demonstrated the strength of the human spirit. One such example was what local communities did in response to money shortages across the country. “Locals reached into their pockets and, finding nothing, began to trade work and objects. Barbers traded shaves and haircuts for onions and Idaho potatoes.” (Shlaes, p. 105) Whether it was the rise of bartering in Utah or the movement to abandon cities and farm in California and New York, Shlaes cited many examples of Americans adapting to harsh times in their own, unique, ways, yet often forming communities in the process, outside of government interference. Again, Shlaes’ emphasis was that Americans succeeded despite of, not because of, the government.
Some question Shlaes’ motives for writing this book, that her primary goal is to create a conservative spin on the Depression. She is, after all, an unabashedly enthusiastic supporter of Coolidge, and does not hide this fact in the book. However, Shlaes persuasively convinces the reader that the primary purpose of The Forgotten Man is to seek the truth. She challenges the narrative that the New Deal helped our country when it most needed it, providing evidence throughout the book that the New Deal instead prolonged the Depression. She also argues it failed because of the fact it caused entrepreneurship to be on the decline and constantly on the defense. While previous historians may have questioned how much the New Deal really helped when the Depression went on for so long, Shlaes revolves an entire book about it. It’s an important and necessary perspective to have a truly balanced understanding of the time period. The Forgotten Man reveals why fiscal policy remains so controversial today, and why there’s a compelling case that the debate must continue.
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