Los Angeles Times
September 26, 2004
Once known as the land of futurists and dreamers, California is increasingly
home to pessimists. Often nostalgic, newspaper commentators, novelists,
journalists and social critics issue jeremiads about paradise lost and the
coming dystopia. California has always had its share of apocalyptic prophets,
but these voices are no longer cries in the wilderness; they reflect a growing
public mood in the once Golden State.
There is a racial dimension to all
the gloominess. The downbeat outlook is in large part driven by Anglos, the
state's largest minority. Although they enjoy the highest per capita income and
are significantly more likely to own a home than any other group, Anglos appear
to be suffering from a bad case of "declinism."
One reason for
California's post-World War II success was the willingness of government and
civic institutions to invest in the aspirations and hard work of newcomers to
the state. California built an extraordinary infrastructure — aqueducts,
roads, universities and schools — to enable largely Anglo migrants to
realize their dreams. Taxpayers gladly footed the cost because their future
depended on the improvements. Because the electorate had an optimistic vision,
they were willing to bear the sacrifices. California's leading social,
political and cultural institutions echoed this sentiment and articulated the
goals of the ascendant Anglo population. The editorial visions of the state's
leading newspapers resonated with the energy and outlook of a hopeful, striving
population.
Whites still make up a disproportionate share of the
electorate. They dominate the state's business, intellectual and cultural
elites. They remain the principal authors of the California story. And they
have become the most pessimistic of any group in the state, according to an
August survey of the Public Policy Institute of California. Fully 57% felt that
the state would be a worse place to live in two decades. At 49%, blacks were
the second most pessimistic group. Latinos (39%) a nd Asians (34%) were
significantly less downbeat.
Anglo pessimism in California is not a new
phenomenon. In a similar poll taken five years ago, Anglos were considerably
more pessimistic about living in the state in 2020 than were Latinos, the group
with the lowest per capita income and second-lowest homeownership rate.
This apparent disconnect between wealth and outlook suggests that Anglo
declinism does not stem from material circumstances. Indeed, pessimism tends to
increase with education and income. Are Anglos simply better informed about the
state's problems than everyone else, and thus gloomier?
If educational
achievement is an indicator, the answer is no. Asians in California have higher
rates of academic attainment than whites, and they are far more
optimistic.
What these polls do measure is expectations. A majority of
Anglos clearly believe that their best days in the state are behind them.
One explanation for what is happening is what journalist David Whitm an
calls the "I'm OK, you're not" phenomenon. Anglos have less faith in the future
of today's immigrants than the immigrants have for themselves. Over a
generation, immigrants from Asia and particularly Latin America have changed not
only the cultural landscape but also the state's image of itself.
The
newcomers have punctured the idea of California as a middle-class utopia. They
are associated with high rates of poverty, density, diversity and social ills
reminiscent of New York City and Chicago at the turn of the 20th century.
Whites don't easily identify with the aspirations of these emergent groups.
With the exception of the much-maligned "Oakies" and "Arkies" in the
1930s, native-born white migrants were generally welcomed to California by the
state's establishment. The new arrivals' enthusiasm was not greeted with
dread.
Anglo declinism may stem from the aging of the Anglo population.
Of all the state's major demographic groups, Anglos are the most likely to have
lived in Califo rnia the longest. As a result, they are both more able —
and more likely — to remember the ways things used to be, to compare the
present with the past. Furthermore, the median age of whites (40.3) is
significantly higher than all other groups. As such, Anglos are not only
racially but increasingly generationally disconnected from the younger nonwhite
population. Brookings Institution demographer Bill Frey calls this a "racial
generation gap."
"The newcomers have the enthusiasm whites have lost,"
Frey said. "Whites are the landed aristocracy that don't see themselves as part
of the new dynamism of the state."
Life in California is more
complicated than it was a generation ago. It takes much longer to drive from
Los Angeles to San Diego. Competition to land a spot on a University of
California campus is far keener. High housing prices can bring even the
financially mighty to their knees. But greater population density and stiffer
competition don't necessarily translate into catastro phe.
"Anglos are
pouting," California historian Kevin Starr said. "They still think California
is the unearned increment, that just by coming here you'd be
prosperous."
The gritty reality of a generation of enormous
international migration has collided with Anglo illusions of the good life. It
isn't that Asians and Latinos, two groups with large foreign-born cohorts, don't
still see California as a land of opportunity. Rather, it's that the Anglo myth
that dreams should be achieved without struggle is gone. Today's newcomers
don't come to the land of perpetual sunshine to reinvent themselves in a
Mediterranean climate. Their story is a more hardscrabble version of the
American dream, one we associate with the East Coast.
In his 1998
critique of the New Left, Stanford philosopher Richard Rorty asserted, "National
pride is to countries what self-respect is to individuals: a necessary
condition for self-improvement." A similar judgment could be said about a
state's orientation toward the future. Like individuals, bodies politic must
have a modicum of faith in the future if they intend to plan constructively for
one.
California's crumbling infrastructure can be rebuilt, and its
broken education system can be repaired. But that's not going to happen until
we re-create the social contract that built postwar California. That contract
must be founded on a shared vision of the future. If Anglo California is not
willing to provide one, then at the very least it should make way for those who
do.