Twenty-five years ago, 19 hijackers took control of four American airliners and crashed them into symbols of American power, killing upwards of 3000 people. The American population watched the events unfold in real time. It was an emotionally jarring event that changed the country.

In some respects, the events of 9/11 needed no explanation. The destruction of the World Trade Center buildings and the massive, and random, loss of life were horrifying to all. The meaning of the attacks, however – and the motivations of the hijackers – were less clear.

The effort to explain the motives behind the attack, and to understand “why they hate us,” brought a pre-existing debate over Islamist militancy to the center of American public life. In the decade leading up to 9/11, the Washington policy community had been divided over how to deal with the Islamist movement and particularly those extremists who sought to use violence to impose a narrow vision of religious orthodoxy upon reluctant societies.

At the heart of the 1990s policy debate was a dispute over causation: are religion and ideology the sources of violent extremism, or are poverty, marginalization and authoritarian misrule to blame? Commentators and politicians on the political right viewed the issue in terms reminiscent of the Cold War. The conflict with Islamism (or “Islamic fundamentalism”) was ideological in nature and, like international communism, had to be confronted with force. Hence, American foreign policy should prioritize security and support our regional allies in their efforts to eradicate both the Islamist opposition and violent extremists.

Those on the other side of the debate rejected this vision of a new “green peril” and saw the underlying claims as inaccurate and misleading. To operate from such flawed assumptions, it was argued, would result in a foreign policy that served neither American interests nor those of the Arab (and Muslim) populations most directly affected. The best strategy for dealing with both militant violence and the non-violent opposition was economic development and political reform.

Both the George H.W. Bush and Clinton administrations sought to find a common ground between these two perspectives, one that addressed both security concerns and the need for reform. The terrorist attacks of 9/11, however, upended this balance. The shock and horror of that day provided the George W. Bush administration a free hand to reshape American foreign policy. In doing so, the second Bush administration embraced the security side of the argument and the corresponding policy prescriptions. What motivated the administration was a view that this new war on terror was – like WWII and the Cold War – an existential “conflict between freedom and tyranny.” In the face of such a dire threat, the “gloves come off.”

Many experts now recognize that the militarized response to 9/11 was counter-productive. In the two decades that followed, the number of groups and fighters that claimed allegiance to the jihadist cause increased, as did their geographic areas of operation. Even as U.S. forces made gains against al-Qaida, new groups such as the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria (ISIS) emerged that were even more extreme and violent. The precipitous demise of the Afghan government in August 2021 – and the return of the Taliban to power – further illustrated the limits of American military power.

All of this occurred despite the concerted effort by the U.S. government and others to rein in Islamist militancy and counter the ideology of violent extremism. The problem, in short, got worse, not better.

Misdiagnosing the problem

The failures of America’s war on terror were rooted in a misdiagnosis of the problem. The Bush administration promoted the idea that the 9/11 hijackers were motivated by their hatred of American values and rejected any notion that U.S. policies contributed to either anti-American sentiment or violent extremism. “They” hated us for who we are, it was argued, not what we do.

By framing the challenge of Islamist militancy within a discourse of terrorism and civilizational struggle, governmental leaders embraced a belief common on the political right that “the application of [military] power is the most important thing in winning the war on terrorism.” American policy makers subsequently pursued a military strategy to effect political change in the Middle East, South Asia and Africa at the expense of diplomatic, legal and other alternatives. The 1990s debate was effectively over; those arguing for a policy of confrontation had won.

While the intent of the American military strategy was to deny terrorist groups safe havens, the practical effect was the opposite. American military interventions destabilized entire regions and created the kind of lawless anarchy in which militant groups proliferated. U.S. interventions also exacerbated anti-American sentiments and allowed militant groups to portray themselves as nationalist defenders fighting an occupying enemy.

The 2003 invasion of Iraq exemplified this trend, with the American occupation becoming a “‘cause celebre’ for jihadists” and inadvertently breathing new life into the militant movement. American policy in the Sahel, the Horn of Africa, and Yemen paint a similar picture. In each instance, military intervention created the conditions in which Islamist militancy flourished. This, in turn, justified further U.S. interventions, creating a vicious cycle of perpetual conflict.

American military strategy also relied upon regional autocracies to prosecute the war on terror. This aspect of American policy represented a key paradox. While U.S. actions were said to be defending freedom, the reality is that U.S. government agencies prioritized support for the militaries and security services of authoritarian allies. Little was done to promote democratic accountability or protect civilian populations from abuses inflicted by these same governments. The prosecution of the war on terror, thus, meant diminished freedom for populations living under authoritarian rule and failed to address the relationship between government repression and radicalization.

The failure of America’s military strategy reflected a tendency to focus on symptoms, rather than causes. While the budgets of the Department of Defense, various intelligence agencies and the Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) expanded dramatically in the post-9/11 period, similar investments were not made in other aspects of American power. There was no corresponding expansion of the mission or budgets for the U.S. Department of State or for the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID). Funding for democracy promotion, moreover, paled in comparison to military spending and little was done to address the economic stagnation and marginalization that fueled extremism.

While this lopsided approach to counterterrorism was, in part, a continuation of past American policy, it was also due to the wartime paradigm that prioritized military power over all else. The result was “indiscipline and disappointments” as military operations failed to fix problems and Americans tired of the country’s wars.

As we reflect on the terrible events of 9/11, we can honor those who perished by learning the central lesson of the war on terror: the overreliance on military power to accomplish political objectives does not serve American national security interests. As in the current war with Iran, the U.S. military has consistently demonstrated that it can secure tactical victories while still failing to achieve strategic ends.

What is needed is not just a change in policy, but a shift in the way that the United States political leadership thinks about the problems that it is trying to solve. We owe it to those millions of Americans who have grown up in the shadow of 9/11 not to repeat the mistakes of the past.

On September 1, a US airstrike hit a family compound in Kuhestak, southern Iran, as women and children gathered for a wedding celebration. At least five people were killed and dozens more injured. Associated Press reporters who visited the town documented extensive damage and civilian suffering. Reuters later reported that imagery, debris, and weapons assessments were consistent with a direct hit by a US munition, while US officials said the incident was under review. The immediate facts matter. But the larger question is already unavoidable: What happens to the laws of war when civilian spaces repeatedly become part of the battlefield?

The significance of Kuhestak extends beyond the number of casualties or the identity of the weapon. The deeper danger is what incidents like this can do to the norms meant to limit warfare. If homes, schools, hospitals, wedding gatherings, or refugee sites are repeatedly treated as tolerable consequences of military necessity, the distinction between battlefield and civilian life begins to lose practical meaning.

International humanitarian law was designed precisely to prevent that erosion. Its rules do not make war safe, and they do not prohibit every attack that may harm civilians. They do, however, require parties to distinguish between civilians and military objectives, prohibit attacks expected to cause excessive incidental civilian harm in relation to the concrete and direct military advantage anticipated, and require feasible precautions to minimize civilian loss. The principles of distinction, proportionality, and precaution are not political preferences. They are the legal architecture intended to preserve a minimum boundary between military necessity and human life.

International law rarely collapses in a single dramatic moment. More often, norms weaken when exceptional conduct is repeated, defended, or left without meaningful scrutiny.

That distinction matters when assessing the US position as well. Washington says it does not target civilians and that its operations in southern Iran were aimed at military infrastructure, including air-defense, communications, and maritime assets. The Associated Press reported those stated objectives alongside the civilian toll in Kuhestak. Under the laws of war, the existence of a legitimate military objective can matter greatly. Civilian casualties, by themselves, do not automatically prove an unlawful attack. But that is precisely why transparent investigation is essential: Was the target properly identified? Were the expected civilian risks assessed? Were feasible precautions taken? And was the anticipated military advantage sufficient to justify those risks?

Kuhestak is especially troubling because it follows another catastrophic episode in the same province. On February 28, a strike hit a school in Minab. In March, Amnesty International said its investigation found US forces responsible for the attack, which killed 156 people, including 120 children, and concluded that the United States had failed to take all feasible precautions to avoid civilian harm. Amnesty called for a transparent and thorough investigation and accountability for those responsible. Minab therefore cannot simply be treated as an unresolved rumor in the background of the current war.

Seen together, Minab and Kuhestak raise a deeper concern. One catastrophic civilian strike may be explained as a failure of intelligence, targeting, weapon performance, or judgment. A pattern of incidents, however, raises a different question: whether civilian protection is being pushed too far to the margins of operational decision-making. The danger is not only the immediate loss of life. It is the gradual normalization of exceptions.

If civilian protection becomes a principle honored only when convenient, the damage will not stop with one town or one conflict.

International law rarely collapses in a single dramatic moment. More often, norms weaken when exceptional conduct is repeated, defended, or left without meaningful scrutiny. Each time a serious civilian-harm incident is absorbed into the routine language of war without transparent findings or accountability, the practical force of the rule diminishes. What is described today as an exceptional mistake can become tomorrow's accepted risk.

Some will argue that this concern overstates the implications of incidents that occur in a high-intensity conflict. War is chaotic. Military assets may be located near civilian areas. Information can be incomplete, and even precision weapons cannot eliminate human error or unintended harm. Those points are real, and international humanitarian law itself recognizes that civilian casualties can occur even in attacks directed at lawful military objectives.

But acknowledging the realities of war is not the same as accepting the erosion of its limits. The law matters most precisely when military pressure is intense and operational decisions are difficult. If the protections owed to civilians become flexible whenever the strategic stakes are high, then their universality becomes conditional on power, geography, and political convenience. A rule that constrains only weak states, while powerful ones receive the benefit of endless exceptions, is not a universal rule for long.

The consequences would reach far beyond Iran. The laws of war function only if states expect them to apply across conflicts and regions. A standard weakened in the Middle East will not remain neatly contained there. Future belligerents in Europe, Africa, or East Asia can point to conduct tolerated elsewhere and demand the same latitude for themselves. Selective enforcement does more than produce unequal justice; over time, it changes what governments believe they can do.

A rule that constrains only weak states, while powerful ones receive the benefit of endless exceptions, is not a universal rule for long.

The appropriate response, therefore, is not to prejudge every disputed strike or to assume that every civilian death proves a war crime. It is to insist on independent, transparent, and verifiable investigations; publication of meaningful findings; and accountability wherever violations are established. The United States should be held to the same standards it expects other states to observe. The same standard must apply to Iran, Israel, and every other party to an armed conflict. Universality is the point.

The question raised by Kuhestak is ultimately larger than one wedding, just as Minab was larger than one school. It is whether the international community still believes that even in war there are people, spaces, and rules that military necessity cannot simply sweep aside. If civilian protection becomes a principle honored only when convenient, the damage will not stop with one town or one conflict. What will have been weakened is the boundary that keeps war from becoming limitless—and once that boundary disappears, no nation can assume that its own civilians will remain safely on the other side of it.

My mom worked harder than anyone I know. She wanted a good life for us. It was a hard life—I remember the Christmas she had to pawn our gifts to pay the light bill—but she made it special for us.

Now I have two kids of my own, and I want them to have every opportunity that other children have.

The landscape is tough out there. Like many Americans, I can’t afford childcare, and finding work that accommodates my need to care for my young children is hard. With inflation, the little income I have doesn’t go nearly as far as it used to.

I’m grateful to have assistance with food, housing, and healthcare through our social safety net programs.

Food programs like SNAP (also known as “food stamps”) and WIC (that’s the Special Supplemental Nutrition Program for Women, Infants, and Children) have literally saved our lives when we’ve been hungry. I wouldn’t be able to feed my children without them. And thanks to Medicaid, we have healthcare.

But I’m sick with worry about the cuts to SNAP and Medicaid that are barreling my way. The so-called “Big Beautiful Bill” slashed these programs last year so lawmakers could slash taxes for corporations and the wealthy, and some of the worst cuts will take place after this year’s midterms.

The uncertainty is causing so much stress. The first change I noticed is they cut off my eyeglasses subsidy. What’s next? Meanwhile, the cost of living keeps going up and up, outpacing wage gains for me and countless others. Our SNAP benefits cover much less than they did a year ago, and that’s before potential cuts take effect.

I feel like I’m waiting for a bomb to drop on me and my kids, and I’m not the only one.

“The average minimum-wage worker must work nearly 116 hours per week, nearly three full-time jobs, to afford a two-bedroom rental home,” the National Low Income Housing Coalition reports. That’s the truth—my own sister works three jobs and still has to live with roommates.

Lawmakers are telling us we can’t have healthcare now unless we work, even in areas with low wages. Yet those making the laws enjoy free government-socialized healthcare and high wages.

They say SNAP benefits can’t be used for a cake or soda for my child’s birthday. Yet no one would stop the wealthy from using their $1 trillion in tax cuts under the “Big Beautiful Bill” to buy their kid a yacht.

Poor and low-income people deserve to be happy too. We deserve healthcare, food, housing, and even a child’s small birthday party. It feels like we’re being punished for working regular jobs—and like lawmakers want to keep us down so we don’t fight back against this inequality.

But we are fighting back.

I’ve started attending our local town hall meetings and hearing the stories of injustice and poverty. I started volunteering with a non-profit organization in my community. I help get goods to people in need, even as I am also in need, because that’s what we do. Poor and low-income people help each other out, because we understand what it’s like to see our kids go without while we work our fingers to the bone.

But we can’t do it alone. We need to demand from lawmakers that instead of cutting our healthcare, food, and housing benefits, we need to expand them to meet the great need in this country. We need a livable wage so we can afford market rent and rising food prices.

And we need to hold lawmakers who make working people suffer to enrich the already wealthy accountable.

A familiar spectre is haunting the nation—that of communism. Or so one might conclude from the Republican Party’s increasingly frantic rhetoric.

Following a string of wins by the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) in congressional primaries from New York to Colorado to Michigan, even reaching as far as Florida, the GOP is dusting off an old refrain.

“Communism is on the ballot this November,” warned House Majority Leader Steve Scalise (R-La.) at a press conference. President Donald Trump has gone further still, calling communism “the biggest threat to our nation there is, maybe since our founding.”

At first glance, this reads like little more than election-year theatrics. The candidates provoking such alarm are, on the whole, hardly the revolutionaries their critics imagine.

But, try as they might, no amount of fearmongering, surveillance, or censorship will dampen the working person’s dream for a more dignified life, one where their labor is compensated fairly, their dollar stretches further, and their children inherit a secure future.

Many of the policies promoted by today’s democratic socialists fall comfortably within the lineage of the New Deal: strengthening labor protections, expanding access to healthcare, greater investment in public infrastructure, and so on.

That House Speaker Mike Johnson (R-La.) would liken their ascendance to “a nightmare… a trail to certain death,” ought to strike any person of sound mind as patently absurd.

Yet dismissing such a frenzied reaction as mere campaign-season hyperbole risks overlooking what it actually reveals: staggering insecurity.

If the political establishment had any real confidence in their track record, they wouldn’t need to manufacture so much anxiety around their opposition.

It is precisely because they can feel their grip on the public’s trust slipping that they have resorted to reviving the McCarthyist witch hunts of yesteryear—an effort that extends well beyond incendiary speeches.

Last year, President Trump issued National Security Presidential Memorandum 7 (NSPM-7), directing federal agencies to expand policing of social movements linked to “anti-Americanism, anti-capitalism, and anti-Christianity,” among other ideological strains, ostensibly to “identify and prevent potential violent activity.”

NSPM-7 has, in turn, become the legal backbone for an aggressive crackdown on dissent, seen in the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) issuing “warning notices” to those who have criticized the actions of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), whether that be through social media posts or email correspondence.

Recent reporting even uncovered a sweeping probe, dubbed “Operation Puppet Master” by DHS, into a number of left-wing groups in Minnesota after the killings of Renée Good and Alex Pretti by ICE and Border Patrol agents, respectively, earlier this year.

The probe included, among other things, the subpoenaing of financial records from various labor unions and nonprofits, as well as “spying operations conducted by undercover agents who posed as activists and surveilled community activities.”

It is little wonder that such egregious actions have since been compared to COINTELPRO, J Edgar Hoover’s illegal pet project designed to infiltrate, surveil, and discredit civil rights and anti-war activists who caught the ire of the federal government.

This, paired with the White House creating its own blacklist of journalists and influencers on its official “Media Offenders” page, many of whom are cited for such severe transgressions as “Left-Wing Lunacy,” suggests that the hysterical talking points GOP leadership have taken to heart are the vehicle for a broader crusade of political repression.

Such heavy-handed surveillance is undoubtedly born out of a deep-seated panic among those in power. This latest Red Scare is, at its core, a reaction to the working-class rightfully demanding its fair share of the economic pie.

The rise of the DSA, and of the left-wing ideas it propagates, owes much to the fact that its members speak plainly about the financial woes of the everyday person.

Take, for instance, New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani, who has striven to take an honest accounting of the financial hardship faced by New Yorkers, and in turn offer tangible remedies like free childcare and a rent freeze.

In contrast, Trump administration officials are desperate to pull the wool over the eyes of the people, with Kevin Hassett, director of the National Economic Council, recently claiming that the economy “looks amazing,” despite nearly 80% of voters feeling otherwise.

In fact, public confidence in capitalism broadly has fallen to 54%, according to Gallup polling released last year, the lowest level since the organization began tracking the question. At the same time, socialism commands comparatively steady support, especially among Democratic voters, roughly two-thirds of whom view it favorably.

The generational divide is even more striking. A survey conducted by YouGov and the Cato Institute found that 62% of Americans under 30 hold a favorable view of socialism, while 34% say the same of communism. Of course, each of these labels mean different things to different respondents, but the overarching trend is difficult to ignore.

For many Americans, especially those on the younger side, capitalism is synonymous with constraint, and it’s not hard to see why.

While billionaires’ assets have surged to preposterous heights, the cascading inflationary shocks of war have steadily eroded workers’ purchasing power.

Cornerstones of the American Dream have been priced out of reach for working families, with 62% of Americans now viewing homeownership as unrealistic.

Meanwhile, more than 40% of American households have persistently struggled to cover the cost of basic necessities on their current income.

Yet, rather than confronting the economic frustrations driving millions of Americans to question the status quo, the Trump administration has chosen to paint a target on the backs of those who offer the public a meaningful alternative.

But, try as they might, no amount of fearmongering, surveillance, or censorship will dampen the working person’s dream for a more dignified life, one where their labor is compensated fairly, their dollar stretches further, and their children inherit a secure future.

And it is for this reason that yet another Red Scare is an altogether futile, albeit dangerous, distraction meant to blind us to the real struggle of our time: the fight against a rigged economy.

If those in power must conjure ghosts to terrify the people, it is surely because their earthly defenses are failing.

This Labor Day, workers across the country are sending a clear message: They want a greater voice on the job. A near-record 71% of Americans approve of unions, and surveys show over 50 million nonunion workers would join a union if they could.

At a time when many are struggling to afford basic necessities, it’s easy to understand why. Through unions and collective bargaining, workers have more power to win higher wages, better benefits, safer working conditions, and a fairer share of the wealth they create. Unions help build a strong middle class, reduce inequality, narrow racial economic disparities, and boost participation in our democracy.

Yet only 1 in 10 US workers are in a union today—a sharp decline from the more than 1 in 3 workers who belonged to a union in the 1950s. That drop did not happen because workers stopped wanting or needing unions. It happened due to relentless attacks on unions and collective bargaining, and lawmakers’ failure to fix the broken labor laws that have allowed those attacks to succeed.

The consequences have been enormous. As union power has declined, workers have seen less of the gains from the economic growth they have helped create. Since 1979, productivity (how much average value workers produce in an hour of work) has grown 2.8 times as much as pay for typical workers.

This Labor Day, let’s recommit to putting more power in the hands of working people.

New Economic Policy Institute research makes clear just how much working people stand to gain by rebuilding union power to 1950s’ levels.

Tripling union membership would raise the pay of the median worker by more than $7,700 a year, or nearly $270,000 over a 35-year career. That’s enough to more than cover the cost of sending two children to a four-year public university, for example. Crucially, both union and nonunion workers would see these gains because stronger unions raise standards across the labor market.

Scaled across the workforce, tripling union membership would shift an estimated $1.2 trillion to the pockets of working people every year. This is enough to reverse roughly one-third of the increase in inequality since 1979.

Stronger unions are also good for businesses and the broader economy. When workers earn more, they have more money to spend in their communities, strengthening consumer demand. Businesses would benefit from lower worker turnover, higher productivity, and workers who have a greater stake in the success of their workplaces.

Tripling union membership won’t be easy, but it’s far from a nostalgic pipe dream. It will take continued nationwide organizing and decisive policy action that makes it easier for workers to unionize. Federal lawmakers can start by passing legislation that expands collective bargaining rights, closes loopholes in existing law that allows employers to suppress worker organizing, and holds employers accountable when they violate workers’ labor rights. Further, state lawmakers should provide all public-sector workers with collective bargaining rights and repeal so-called right-to-work laws that weaken workers’ ability to organize and bargain collectively.

This Labor Day, let’s recommit to putting more power in the hands of working people. That means giving more workers the freedom to organize. And it means setting an ambitious goal worthy of the moment: tripling union membership and building an economy that works for working people.

Last March, I wrote an essay providing evidence of the inherent exploitation and undemocratic constructs in our economic model burdening working people.

This essay compliments that work and will show a fundamental reason why our economic model is structurally limited by attempts to reform it.

History

Our economic model is plagued with a history of periodic recessions and depressions.

That history is recorded by the National Bureau of Economic Research (NBER). Recessions and depressions are clinically presented as normal components of the “business cycle.” The NBER does not report the chronic instability and destruction of communities and working people’s lives by the “business cycle.”

Political democracy demands economic democracy. We have statutes, laws, regulations, and rules to protect the common good. Why not apply the same principles to the relations of production?

Many economists, psychologists, and journalists have attempted to rationalize the chronic crisis in our economic model. These fanciful assertions are thoroughly inadequate. As Leo Huberman chronicled in Man’s Worldly Goods, some experts actually attributed the chronic crises to radiation from the sun or the path of the planet Venus.

Despite rapid advances in technology and financial instruments, chronic crises remain inherent in our economic model.

Competition is a significant component that contributes to these crises despite the stifling dominance by a few giant corporations in most industries. That structure contains one essential component which plagues all businesses.

It is the tendency of the profit rate to fall.

Profit Rate Basis

The tendency of the profit rate to fall is the basis of why our economic model cannot be meaningfully reformed.

The owner of a business must convert the expenditures that initiate and maintain the business into a profit. Profits are what remains after a business pays all of its costs.

Simply, the profit rate shows how many cents of profits are retained from every dollar earned. It is more important than aggregate profits because it measures efficiency of a company in comparison with other businesses.

A decline in the profit rate forces businesses to close doors and decimate the lives of their employees across states and communities.

Business Basics

The following is a simplified explanation of why profit rates tend to fall:

The process begins by establishing a business. The owner must allocate resources for primary expenditures (CapEx) to acquire space, a plant, machinery, tools, hardware, software, technological advances, and raw materials. This includes legal registrations, licenses, permits, and financial services.

The business owner must then add another cost which are secondary expenditures.

Secondary expenditures (OpEx) consist of wages or salaries paid to the employees who do the mental or physical work with their labor power. This creates profits for the owner including extra profits. Extra profits are what remains for the owner once wages or salaries are paid to the employees.

It is imperative that the owner continually spend more resources in primary expenditures for the business. This is due to competition with other business owners.

Primary Expenditures Increase

For the owner, the cost of primary expenditures usually increases as costs for goods and services increase. These increases can be the result of monetary policy, growth of the economy (GDP), corporate price gouging, misplaced tariffs, or a scarcity of certain goods.

Some products may even see a temporary drop in prices due to technological advances.

However, the supply of goods and services that comprise primary expenditures invariably rises to the dismay of business owners.

Cost of living calculations also present data that strongly supports the assertion that primary expenditures for owners will never decrease in our economic model.

Primary expenditures are required to increase the amount of the product or service created by the employees.

The owner might consider borrowing funds from a financial institution to pay for primary expenditures. This can be problematic because financial institutions may decline to lend the money or advance at a glacial pace to finalize a loan.

The reason why the owner must continually increase spending on primary expenditures is directly related to the profit rate.

Profit Rate

The profit rate is obtained by dividing the total primary and secondary expenditures by the extra profit. (Multiplying by 100 converts a decimal into a percentage).

Example: Suppose the employees created $100 worth of total profit and are paid $40 in wages. That means the extra profit is $60.

Add the primary expenditures to the secondary expenditures and divide by the extra profit. In this example, the profit rate is 60%.

Now to show the tendency of the profit rate to fall, increase the primary expenditure to $60. Suppose there was a sale on tools at Home Depot and the owner purchased $10 worth of tools by transferring funds from the secondary expenditures to the primary expenditures.

The profit rate is now 55%. This is a significant drop despite the profit amount remaining the same. The owner increased the primary expenditures by transferring funds from the secondary expenditures.

The owner’s increased spending on primary expenditures in the form of new tools or machines may maintain the extra profits. They may even increase the production of each employee. The product or service may then be sold as less expensive. This is wonderful for the owner, but the crisis remains driven by competition.

Temporary Remedy

Other business owners are captured in this business model. Competition from other businesses drives the accumulation of primary expenditures and a decrease of secondary expenditures. This decrease results in cuts to employees’ wages, salaries, or job losses. A falling rate of profit means outside investment is less likely to occur signaling a crisis for the owner.

The owner must either increase primary expenditures to increase profit rates to compete with other businesses or increase secondary expenditures to allow employees to maintain themselves and their families.

The owner cannot do both. It is an inherent contradiction.

The remedy for the owner is to freeze or offer insufficient wages or salaries in order to maintain extra profits for the business. Without a militant union to fight with the employees, owners will deny employees’ requests for fair compensation and benefits.

The tendency of a profit rate to fall leads to the eventual closing of the business or the business moving to a location without employee rights, union rights, or environmental regulations.

Real Remedy

Thus, our business model results in chronic exploitation, deprivation, and immiseration that cannot be eliminated by reform. Working people's lives and their families are severely damaged, often forever.

The organization, production, and distribution of goods and services must be transformed into a democratic model.

One version of this model can be seen in the Mondragon Corporation in Spain. It is a highly successful conglomerate created in 1956 by a Roman Catholic priest. It is based on democratic principles that are agreed on by the employees.

Economist Richard Wolff wrote that the important questions of what and how we produce are fundamental to the economy of any country. “Where” to produce as also a question within the organization of an economy. The employees who create the profits must have a voice in the production process. A democratic construct can vary according to the model selected but must begin at the ground level.

Transition to a Democratic Economic Model

There are several methods that might serve as a guide to how such a transition may be realized in our economic model:

New companies may be based on the principles of worker cooperatives. Also, when a company fails, it must first offer the employees an option to purchase it. Lastly, owners who are retiring must offer the employees the first opportunity to purchase the business.

A transition to a democratic economic model must begin by political parties actually representing working peoples’ interests. Many progressives assert that democratic socialists must win elections as the way to dominate governments at local, state, and federal levels. They assert that democratic socialism may be realized by means of evolution, not necessarily revolution.

If progressive critics are able to dominate the government, it could pave the way for a transition to a democratic socialist model with American characteristics. Since our history is replete with democratic goals and objectives; a transition would be less problematic.

Political democracy demands economic democracy. We have statutes, laws, regulations, and rules to protect the common good. Why not apply the same principles to the relations of production?

Implementing a democratic model will be met with an avalanche of ruthless, corporate lies to deceive and frighten working people.

Progressives have historical lessons to learn from the failures of countries that attempted a form of socialism to replace the miserable economic conditions inherent and inevitable in our economic model.

There are many forms of socialism that can be realized.

The former USSR is a petri dish of such failures. Government must work to organize economic production democratically from the ground up, not from the top down that doomed the Soviet model to largely failure.

The government under democratic socialist control will transition to a new economic model that will facilitate the positive development of various components of our culture. The voice of working people will make the economic decisions rather than a handful of spiritually vapid, wealthy oligarchs. These oligarchs ignore Christian, Jewish, Islamic and Buddhist literature that advocates for various forms of democratic socialism.

Polls from The Wall Street Journal, CNN, Gallup, and Fox News demonstrate that Americans are increasingly discontented with our economic model.

Working people can and must do better for themselves and their families. Recognizing the limits of economic reform is a beginning.

It’s a good thing that labor journalist and author Matt Witt was not running for governor of Wisconsin this year like Democratic Socialists of America candidate Francesca Hong.

Democratic primary rivals and Republican opposition researchers would have badly distorted the message of Witt’s new book Make Holidays Your Own (Common Ground Press). It encourages creative rethinking of family gatherings and community practices on major holidays.

In their effort to discredit Hong, her foes in both parties created what The New York Times called a “social media kerfuffle” over old posts dissing Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and Halloween.

The outspoken state legislator and former restaurant owner from Madison lost her August 11 primary despite polling very strongly beforehand. Given the annual sense of foreboding that overtakes millions of Americans when tense family reunions draw near in late November, Hong’s past call for Thanksgiving to be “canceled”—because of its connection to “colonialism”—probably had its local fans.

Sometimes the development of alternative celebrations—such as the reclaiming of May Day by the modern day, more immigrant-influenced US labor movement--can lead to two opportunities to picnic, protest, and march, rather than just one!

Under fire on the campaign trail, Hong did concede that bringing people together around a table can be “a good thing.” But, according to the Times, she also courted controversy by “questioning the value of Valentine’s Day and Christmas trees.” So not only Wisconsin turkey farmers, but gift card sellers and Christmas tree growers—if sufficiently miffed—might have voted instead for the moderate Democrat from Milwaukee, David Crowley, who won the primary.

And even if Hong had prevailed, according to the Times, she faced the challenge of winning over voters like John Wilson, a 61-year old pharmacist from Platteville, Wisconsin, who usually “leans Democratic.” However, when asked whether he favored Hong or US Rep. Tom Tiffany, the Republican running for governor, Wilson chose the latter because “you have to take people at their word” about serious matters like Thanksgiving.

Tiffany has strong views on holidays too; in 2021, he was one of 14 House members who voted against making Juneteenth Day a federal holiday, which won’t be popular with African-American voters statewide.

Just A Few Days Off

In the future, left-leaning candidates can avoid even momentarily distracting flaps like this by reading Matt Witt’s book—hopefully, before pulling the trigger on Twitter, in a moment of pique. The few paid days off that most Americans get to enjoy should not be cancel culture targets, when, as the author argues, they can be celebrated in ways “more historically accurate, meaningful, inclusive, and fun,”

In Make Holidays Your Own, Witt offers much creative advice about dealing with Turkey Day, Mother’s Day, Memorial Day, Veterans Day, the Fourth of July, and eight others; his focus is on countering their crass commercialization, historical baggage, stultifying traditionalism, or exploitation by the right.

See, for example, the garish 250th birthday party staged on July 4 of this year in Washington, DC by the White House and its corporate funders. While no doubt critical of that, Abdul El-Sayed, the successful Democratic Senate primary winner in Michigan is definitely tip-toeing around the issue of fireworks on the Fourth.

As the Times notes, “He has deleted a number of videos and posts where he floated the idea of abandoning fireworks on Independence Day.” El-Sayed’s press spokesperson is now reminding voters that he “is the former captain of his high school football team, loves Michigan football on Saturdays, and celebrates the Fourth of July with fireworks like the next Michigander.”

In other words, he’s an all-American guy! As Witt explains: “In every culture, holidays matter. They come with a message and symbols—with a story that reinforces a certain way of looking at society and passes on certain values to the next generation.” According to the author, what’s good about remaking holidays, in ways that send a different message, “is that you don’t have to convince everyone in your community who doesn’t agree. They can celebrate however they want and so can you.”

A Labor Day History Lesson

And sometimes the development of alternative celebrations—such as the reclaiming of May Day by the modern day, more immigrant-influenced US labor movement--can lead to two opportunities to picnic, protest, and march, rather than just one!

As a former communications director for the United Mine Workers, Teamsters, and Service Employees International Union, the author delves, most informatively, into the political agenda behind the creation of Labor Day, as a counter to nascent working-class internationalism in the late 19th century.

Readers will learn that it was a corporate Democrat president—rather than any anti-union Republican—who first tried to erase the memory of May 1, as an international workers holiday born in the USA, and replace it with an end of summer day off out of step with the rest of the world.

To add insult to injury, May 1 then got officially rebranded, during the McCarthy era, as Law Day—although nobody, even corporate lawyers, get time off for that. Yet, thanks to multiple MAGA threats to the “rule of law” since President Donald Trump got reelected, more than 1,000 California bar members used their lunch hour to stage a first-time ever May Day-style protest in downtown San Francisco.)

As Witt recounts, massive demonstrations seeking shorter working hours occurred in Chicago and other US cities on May 1, 1886; when repeated on May Day four years later, workers in “dozens of countries in Europe and Latin America also held rallies and marches to support the eight-hour day demand.”

Thereafter, much to the alarm of “robber barons” here and abroad, May 1 protests became “an annual event for workers all around the world” and an expression of cross-border solidarity between labor radicals of varying stripes.

Forget May Day?

By 1896, however, a business-backed resident of the White House named Grover Cleveland needed a “sop to unions.” He had, after all, just called out federal troops to crush the Pullman strike organized by the American Railway Union, a pioneering alternative to craft unionism led by future Socialist Party presidential candidate Eugene Victor Debs (who was jailed for his role in the strike).

At Cleveland’s request, Congress declared that workers should be given a day off, every year, on the first Monday in September so, as Witt notes, “Actions taken by US unions would not be coordinated with their counterparts in the rest of the world.”

“Today, Labor Day is a paid holiday for about 3 in 4 workers in the US. Ironically, the lowest paid workers are the least likely to have the day off with pay. That includes non-union workers in food service, retail, hotels, agriculture, delivery, and janitorial services, as well as part-time workers, or those whose companies claim are ‘independent contractors’ rather than employees.”

On the holiday counterprogramming front, the good news is that May Day (as noted above) has made a major comeback over the last two decades. There is also “the shining example of the transformation of Columbus Day to Indigenous Peoples Day as now observed in many cities and states.”

Thanks to the efforts of progressive veterans’ groups like Veterans for Peace and Common Defense, at least some commemorative events on Memorial Day and Veterans Day now focus on peace and justice issues, rather than uncritical celebration of past wars.

In his chapter on Martin Luther King Day, the author suggests a range of activities that “can be about the movement and not just the man.” (This is advice that venerators of Cesar Chavez are taking, but only belatedly, after recent revelations about his history of sexual abuse while president of the United Farm Workers.)

Witt reports that all proceeds from his book are going to Rethinking Schools, a “national nonprofit organization that supports social, economic, and environmental justice teaching at a time when the very idea of public education is under attack. Rethinking Schools’ materials have been used by tens of thousands of educators and have reached millions of students.”

Let’s hope that Make Holidays Your Own also gets into the hands of many educators who have to come up with fresh ideas for in-school celebrations of holidays, that cannot be cancelled even in blue states. But, of course, don’t want their personal creativity in the classroom (or pet peeves) unleashing a conservative backlash of the sort that did not help Hong.

What does it say about this country when you can work for more than 40 years and still can’t afford to stop?

I am 66 years old and have spent over 30 years caring for children across the South. When 2024 drew to a close, I tried to retire. I thought I had put in enough time to set myself free from the labor of surviving this economy.

But, as I worried, I couldn't afford it. The price of everything was increasing, including bread, and I realized I had no choice but to return to work within six months of my retirement.

You can tell workers like me that we should have saved more, planned better, chosen a better path toward our retirement. But here’s the problem many domestic and care workers encounter: You cannot save money you never had. When wages barely cover housing, groceries, medicine, and everything else life throws at you, retirement is less like a plan and more like a luxury. In 2025 (the year I was supposed to be retired), early educators had a median wage of $34,980. Other domestic workers, like house cleaners make an estimated median wage of $34,650, and home care workers in 2025 had a median annual income of $22,429. These wages reflect the reality that domestic workers overall are three times as likely to live in poverty as other workers.

With seven children and 18 grandchildren, I do not want another generation of women in my family to inherit a country’s economy where caring for others means giving up their own security.

I come from a legacy of domestic workers. My grandmother, Big Momma, was a Certified Nursing Assistant. My mother was a housekeeper. I became a childcare worker. Three generations of Black women in my family have cared for other people.

We are part of a much longer history, and that is why this work has never paid what it should.

In 1881, 20 Black laundresses organized a movement that grew to nearly 3,000 members and won better wages after striking. Nearly a century later, Dorothy Bolden organized domestic workers across this same city and founded the National Domestic Workers Union of America. Bolden understood that better working conditions and civic power went hand in hand and even made voter registration part of the strategy to organize domestic workers.

When this country finally wrote basic protections into law, such as the right to organize, a minimum wage, and a path to retirement, domestic workers and farmworkers were left out of these protections. That was intentional. Much of that work was done by Black women in the South; leaving it unprotected was no accident. A multigenerational legacy later, we are still living with the consequences these gaps created.

It’s why a person can care for children for over 32 years and still not be able to afford to retire. We didn’t fail to plan; our work was just kept out of sight and out of the protections other workers won.

For most of my career as a childcare worker, children knew me as Miss Cathy. If one of them came to me crying because they were being bullied or something was wrong, I would tell them, "Miss Cathy is going to get to the bottom of it." And trust that Miss Cathy always did.

I adore my work and the children I care for. But loving your work should not require sacrificing your own security.

Or your health.

I have Graves’ disease—a disease that is twice as likely to impact Black women—and often, we face delayed diagnoses and advanced symptoms because of healthcare disparities. For years, I managed it by going to quick clinics when I could afford them and, most of the time, went without care when I couldn't. It was ironic: I was spending my days making sure other people's children were cared for while struggling to afford consistent care for myself. It was not until I turned 65 and qualified for Medicare that I finally had access to health coverage. And even that coverage is at risk.

But this essay is not meant to share all of the challenges I face in care work. No, I am writing this to emphasize that I am no longer the exception. We, as working-class people, have become the rule.

Across the United States, retirement is slipping out of reach for working people of every kind. Wages have not kept up with the cost of the roof over our heads, a simple doctor's visit, a full grocery cart, or care of any kind. More and more people are working into their late 60s, 70s, even 80s, not because they want to, but because stopping simply is not an option. For me, I work until God tells me to stop. The insecurity I’ve referenced has always shadowed domestic workers, and now it’s reaching the rest of the working class. My story reflects the lives of so many working people.

But domestic workers are building a constituency around care: domestic workers, family caregivers, parents, and everyone who understands that care is not some niche issue. It is part of whether a family can afford to live and whether the people who provide that care can afford to grow old, in my case, preferably with a crisp beverage on a beautiful beach.

The economy and affordability are on people's minds. It’s the only thing that’s on my mind. My bank account tells me that things are expensive.

For Black women like me, the right to be heard was never simple. Our grandmothers cleaned other people's homes and were told their voice did not matter in their own country. My father, who raised my siblings and me in 1960s Memphis, taught us that sitting out of the civic process was not optional; he refused to be invisible, and engaging with elected officials was a way to ensure that.

And it is not only domestic workers who have a stake in this. Every family with childcare needs, every person with an aging parent or disabled loved one at home, all of us who will need care someday—we all deeply depend on this work. When we make that care visible, when we insist that it be counted and prioritized, we are looking out for one another.

I want the people in elected office to hear that childcare lets parents go to work, that home care lets people live with dignity, and that we, the people who do that work, should be able to retire from it one day.

Domestic workers are more than our labor. We are neighbors, parents, and grandparents.

With seven children and 18 grandchildren, I do not want another generation of women in my family to inherit a country’s economy where caring for others means giving up their own security.

My grandmother cared for people. My mother cared for people. I spent 32 years caring for children. We have done our part.

This Labor Day, I want the people who represent us—and the country we have spent our lives caring for—to show us they will do theirs.

And if they don't, Miss Cathy is going to get to the bottom of it.