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When will these contented ones collectively start saying, “Enough is enough” and it’s time to say to Donald Trump, “You’re Fired”?
The reason the famous and prolific Harvard economist, John Kenneth Galbraith, is often referred to as a political economist can be seen in the continuing relevance of his book The Culture of Contentment (1992). His thesis explains in significant part why President Donald Trump’s wrecking of America has not more significantly collapsed his support, now below 39% approval.
In the US, the contented classes hail from both parties. They are not a majority of the population by any means, given that half of all Americans are “poor” or “near poor.” They are a majority of the politically and economically influential people who support policies that maintain their comfort at the expense of the necessities of the “functional underclass” left behind in poverty. The contented classes include the super rich, of course, but also the managerial, professional, and wealthier working classes. In addition, they vote at a higher percentage than the poor.
Before Trump, this contented class, which includes members of Congress, was doing well, so much so that they stood in the way of increasing the federal minimum wage, frozen at $7.25 per hour, or increasing Social Security benefits, frozen for over 40 years. These changes could have been paid for by hiking Social Security taxes on, you guessed it, the contented classes. Despite public opinion polls favoring expanding the social safety net, the contented class wants the status quo of no paid sick leave, no paid family or maternal leave, no subsidized childcare, and no universal paid vacations. Western European countries all have a more robust social safety net than the US.
When you crank in the damage done by Trump and his Trumpsters in Washington, DC, members of the contented classes are largely unaffected. The costs of universally damaging programs cutting preparedness for climate violence, pandemics, huge expansions in the police state against immigrants, and the military-industrial complex are not felt where the contented classes live, work, and raise their families.
Trump’s tyrannies and treacheries; his open flouting of the laws (the establishment likes such flouting to be discreet); and his revolting, foul-mouthed defamations tower over Richard Nixon’s transgressions.
We can make a list of the terrible closedowns or strip-mining of federal agencies’ law enforcement and regulatory initiatives. Very few exclusively impact the contented classes. Some may actually benefit.
Other Trump moves, many of them illegal and unauthorized by Congress, delight these people. They support lower taxes on upper-income people and businesses, large or small. The Internal Revenue Service is now going further with its unauthorized dilutions of the 15% minimum tax on corporate profits. The rising stock market adds to the complacency of the contented classes.
The most cruel and vicious actions by Trump—abolishing the US Agency for International Development, medical, water, food assistance to desperate millions abroad—cuts to Meals on Wheels, Head Start, Medicaid, Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) impact the masses—tens of millions of them directly and daily. They do not reach the contented class members of our population.
This is not to say that millions of these contented persons do not care what is happening to their fellow citizens. But normative caring is not viscerally feeling the pain and suffering, the anxiety, dread, and fear of losing healthcare coverage; tomorrow’s meal; the brunt of chronic indebtedness; or abandoning the disabled, the sick, and the casualties of the workplace.
Galbraith wrote that living in their contented culture leads to short-term thinking, underinvestment in public goods, and ignoring the widening inequality between the “haves” and the “have-nots.” Inequality also stems from making money from money—a source of wealth denied to people living paycheck to paycheck.
The capture of the Democratic Party by this complacent class has become so pronounced that the blue-collar working-class members have broken away from their unions and parents or grandparents’ devotion to the FDR-like New Deal politics and fallen prey to the rhetorical seduction of the corporatist GOP.
What could Trump do to alienate large portions of this contented class, which Galbraith argues has been the only force that can disrupt the status quo? When will these contented ones collectively start saying, “Enough is enough” and it’s time to say to Donald Trump, “You’re Fired”?
When the following come together—serious recession, serious inflation, with destabilizing (to their businesses) tariff-driven surging prices; a reckless foreign war quagmire; plunging stock markets; daily spreading chaos; and the media-exposed sickening stench of raw corruption flowing from the White House throughout the upper realms of the executive branch—the contented classes should join the resistance to the Trump madness.
Back in 1974, the Republican establishment decided it was time for Richard Nixon to go, despite his having won reelection in 49 of 50 states in 1972, with a 60% approval in the polls. He was not considered “useful” to the power brokers anymore.
Trump’s tyrannies and treacheries; his open flouting of the laws (the establishment likes such flouting to be discreet); and his revolting, foul-mouthed defamations tower over Richard Nixon’s transgressions.
History instructs that latent revulsions and fears by the power elites are often launched onto the public stage by some specific outrage, decadence, or bullying. Stay tuned. With Dictator Donald (he regularly intones, “This is only the beginning”), THE WORST IS YET TO COME.
The university at large has sold out our students, but the university is not all of us. There are hundreds of faculty on this campus dedicated to the right of our students to learn, debate, protest, research, and report without fear.
On September 17, 2025, one month before I was to teach my annual social justice reporting class at Columbia University’s Graduate School of Journalism, the campus lowered its flag to half-mast in honor of far-right pontificator Charlie Kirk.
Nobody deserves to be murdered, as Kirk was, but to honor a man of his white supremacist, Christian nationalist, and misogynist beliefs was to spit in the face not only of all the women on campus, but of students and staff of color; the queer and trans students and employees whose identities he characterized as “abominations“; the Muslims whose religion, he said, “is a sword being used to slit the throat of America“; the immigrants he insisted will “replace us” with their “anti-white agenda”; and the Jews he accused of controlling America’s institutions.
Columbia did not have to lower that flag. President Donald Trump ordered federal institutions to do so, but the university is private, not part of the government. No, lowering the flag was a choice.
That Columbia made such a choice is nothing short of astounding, given that its past two years of capitulations to the Trump administration have rested upon the school’s promise to protect its Jewish students and staff from antisemitism. As our current acting president, Claire Shipman, wrote to the university community this past summer in classic Orwellian double-speak:
While Columbia does not admit to wrongdoing… the institution’s leaders have recognized, repeatedly, that Jewish students and faculty have experienced painful, unacceptable incidents, and that reform was and is needed.
So why honor a man who espoused Nazi conspiracy theories?
I bring this up because this flag business was only the latest example of the groveling submission Columbia’s trustees have shown toward this country’s proto-authoritarian government since the 2023 student protests against Israel’s genocide in Gaza gave Republicans the idea of using accusations of antisemitism to attack liberal arts colleges.
Allow me to illustrate with a brief history of this groveling.
In 2023, not long after the horrific Hamas attack on Israeli citizens and Israel’s insanely outsized retaliatory slaughter of tens of thousands of Palestinians, Columbia called in the police against our nonviolent student protesters, locked down the campus for the first time in history, and suspended both its own and Barnard undergraduates, most of them teenage girls, in punishment.
That same year, Columbia’s administration allowed Trumpian Christian nationalists to define who was antisemitic and who wasn’t. It succumbed to and accepted the right-wing false narrative that the campus was rife with Jew haters. And it refused to stand up for the Palestinian, Muslim, Arab, and Jewish students who were being harassed, threatened, and doxxed on and off campus for protesting Israel’s murderous policies.
In 2024, Columbia groveled even more. It kept the campus locked down (as it does to this day). It put in place so many rules governing protests that it effectively squashed the ability of students to voice their opposition to Israel’s genocide, or even to the government of President Donald Trump. And it refused to offer any support to Palestinian students Mahmoud Khalil and Mohsen Mahdawi when they were arrested and detained by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) in violation of their First Amendment rights, or when their visas were revoked.
Other universities have not been so cowardly. For example, when Bard College student and Afghan refugee Ali Sajad Faqirzada, who had fled the Taliban regime with his sister, was arrested and detained by ICE at his asylum hearing this October, Bard president Leon Botstein offered him instant support. He contacted the student’s family, mustered local officials to help the family, and sent a letter to the government advocating for Faqirzada’s release. He also issued a statement vowing to stand up for Faqirzada and informing other Bard students of their rights. These were the kinds of morally sound actions we have yet to see from any of our presidents or trustees at Columbia.
In 2025, after Trump and his minions snatched $400 million away from Columbia, crippling the ability of our scientists and medical researchers to do their work, the university’s capitulations plummeted to even greater depths.
It suspended and even expelled anti-war students for having protested on behalf of slaughtered and starving Palestinians by occupying the campus library.
It agreed to comply with Trump’s ban on DEI (diversity, equity, and inclusion) by no longer using “race, color, sex, or national origin” when hiring anyone or even when admitting students, thus giving in to the Trumpian goal of creating a university largely filled with white, heterosexual, Christian men.
Columbia ought to haul itself up before the OIE for the act of lowering its flag for antisemite Charlie Kirk.
It put the Middle Eastern, South Asian, and African Studies department under special provost supervision or receivership.
It agreed to pay more than $200 million over the next three years in blood money to the Trump administration to restore our funding. (Is it a surprise that my colleagues and I had our salaries frozen this year? And what will Trump do with our school’s money—build a villa in Gaza?)
Columbia also agreed to pay a further $21 million to—in the words of the White House PR machine—“resolve alleged civil rights violations against Jewish employees that occurred following the October 7, 2023 Hamas attack on Israel.” I am sure not a penny of that money will go to Palestinian employees and students whose family members were wounded or killed in Gaza, or who suffered from Islamophobic harassment from other students and outsiders. Nor is it likely that any of that money will be given to the many Jewish students who were manhandled, arrested, and punished for protesting genocide.
Columbia made other concessions as well, too numerous to list here. But among the most egregious was its incorporation of the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) definition of antisemitism, which conflates any criticism of the state of Israel with hatred of Jews. This set off alarms among many of our faculty members, Jewish and otherwise, who know that scholars have long rejected the IHRA definition as restricting free speech and academic freedom, and as nakedly antidemocratic.
Yet, in a summer letter to Columbia’s faculty and staff, president Shipman not only proudly announced the school’s incorporation of IHRA, but made it clear that any of us who don’t comply with that definition could be brought before the University’s Office of Institutional Equity (OIE) and censored or even fired.
Under that directive, Columbia ought to haul itself up before the OIE for the act of lowering its flag for antisemite Charlie Kirk.
Adding insult to injury, Columbia’s Task Force on Anti-Semitism, a committee of professors who spearheaded the dubious claim that our campus was riddled with anti-Jewish sentiment, offered not a peep of objection to the campus lowering of that flag. When I asked one of the Task Force’s architects why, he told me that the committee “does not issue statements.” The hypocrisy of a university that forms a task force against antisemitism and then honors a man like Kirk is, to put it mildly, mind-boggling.
Columbia’s faculty members have hardly remained silent in the face of all these capitulations. Many of us, including a large cohort of Jewish professors, have protested, rallied, held vigils, and met with our rapid rotation of presidents, as well as with the school’s trustees, to try to urge academic integrity for our campus and protect our students’ right to debate, question, and protest.
One of the most recent of these faculty actions occurred on September 29, when a group of professors, most of them Jewish, gathered at the sundial in the center of campus to speak out against this adoption of the IHRA’s definition of antisemitism. I joined to watch and listen, while the crowd around them grew.
The speakers explained why the IHRA makes it impossible for them to teach classes on the history of Israel and Palestine, on Islam, or even on Middle Eastern history in general, and leaves any of us who teach anything someone might deem critical of Israel vulnerable to being punished for discriminating against Jews—even if we are Jewish.
One of the speakers, Professor Emeritus Marianne Hirsch, a scholar of trauma and memory, pointed out the real-life dangers in IHRA’s conflation of criticism of Israel with the hatred of all Jews:
This conflation has made [IHRA] the preferred definition of the Israeli state, the Trump administration and authoritarian forces throughout the world who seek to silence those who stand in solidarity with Palestine. The IHRA definition has been cited as the basis for reporting international students, Trump’s travel ban, defunding universities, arresting protesters, and even targeting human rights organizations.
Hirsch then added, “Please note that the incorporation of IHRA was not part of Columbia’s deal with the Trump administration.”
In other words, its incorporation of IHRA was a preemptive concession. Like lowering that flag for Kirk, it was a choice.
To top off all these concessions, Columbia made a truly chilling move. Last summer, it agreed to appoint an “independent monitor” to play the Orwellian Big Brother role of watching to make sure that we faculty comply with all of the above rules. The agreement states that this monitor, chosen jointly with the Trump administration, will have access to “all agreement-related individuals, facilities, disciplinary hearings, and the scene of any occurrence that the monitor deems necessary,” as well as “all documents and data related to the agreement.”
The reaction of the American Association of University Professors (AAUP), the closest thing we have to a union, was swift and dramatic. Calling the appointment of this monitor an unprecedented disaster, AAUP issued the following statement:
Allowing the government to monitor and ultimately dictate decisions about the hiring of faculty and admission of students is a stunning breach of the independence of colleges and universities and opens the door for the ideological control this administration so eagerly craves. This is an extremely dangerous precedent that will have tremendous consequences for the sector.
In a clear-eyed assessment of what Columbia’s concessions really mean, several authors at the Knight First Amendment Institute at Columbia wrote this last August:
The settlement is an astonishing transfer of autonomy and authority to… an administration whose disdain for the values of the academy is demonstrated anew every day. It will have far-reaching implications for free speech and academic freedom at Columbia.
The authors went on to say in academic jargon what many of us had been saying all along: When you give a bully what he wants, he only demands more. “Indeed,” they concluded, “the settlement itself gives the administration an array of new tools to use in the service of its coercive campaign.”
It makes me wonder what comes next. Flags with Trump’s face on them all over campus? Forced pledges of allegiance to him? After all, Iraq’s dictator Saddam Hussein did it. Why not Donald Trump?
For now, however, we faculty are stuck with Columbia as it is. In my case, this means that I must teach social justice journalism not only under the cloud of the Kirk aftermath, with professors and employees being fired or chased out of the country for daring to criticize that purveyor of hate, but with the IHRA sword of Damocles dangling over my head.
Social justice journalism is essentially about covering the ways in which the powerless are oppressed by the powerful—that is, a manifestation of Joseph Pulitzer’s mantra that journalism should “afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted.” This means that just about every topic my students will cover flies in the face of all that the Trump government wants to suppress and might well come up against Columbia’s new rules, too.
What if one of my students should want to cover the deportation hearings for Columbia student Mohsen Mahdawi, for instance? Or a speech by our former student, the once-imprisoned Mahmoud Khalil? Will even a mention of a Palestinian activist be deemed antisemitic now? Will quoting someone who criticizes Kirk or Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu be grounds for expulsion? Can we report on Planned Parenthood or transphobia, the ICE persecution of brown and Black immigrants, the ongoing climate catastrophe, environmental racism, violence against women, or Islamophobia? Can we talk about social justice at all?
Such students represent the generation that is going to have to claw back capitulations and hold onto integrity in the face of truly hard times.
However, the aspect of teaching that worries me the most is how Columbia’s capitulation will affect my students’ trust in one another. I don’t want anyone to be afraid that someone will snitch on them and get them punished, suspended, expelled, bullied online, deported, or otherwise silenced. I want to foster a culture of camaraderie and trust in my classroom, not suspicion and fear.
But students are afraid. Just a couple of weeks ago, I spoke on a campus panel to a group of young women undergraduates of color, several of whom are international students. They told us that (with reason) they’re afraid to protest, post anything political, or speak out at all. They’re afraid that their visas will be revoked, their degrees and futures whisked away. They’re afraid of being kidnapped from campus and disappeared by ICE.
This makes me worry that my students, too, will censor themselves out of fear, a dangerous scenario indeed. A journalist who is afraid to publish the truth or question power can’t be a journalist at all.
That said, there is nothing like sitting in a classroom full of journalism students to give one hope. It’s uplifting to know that there are still young people out there who want to be reporters, who are dedicated to evidence-based facts, who have compassion for the downtrodden and still see journalism as essential to upholding democracy. Such students represent the generation that is going to have to claw back capitulations and hold onto integrity in the face of truly hard times.
So, yes, the university at large has sold out our students. But the university is not all of us. There are hundreds of faculty on this campus dedicated to the right of our students to learn, debate, protest, research, and report without fear.
The task now is to keep up their courage—and our own fight.
The attacks on Medicaid aren’t just policy choices—they’re signing people’s death certificates before they ever see a physician.
This summer, Congress and President Trump cut over $1 trillion from Medicaid to help offset the cost of tax cuts for billionaires. Those Medicaid cuts are scheduled to start kicking in after next year’s midterms, so it’s time for everyone to start understanding the life and death consequences now.
This year, my adult daughter in rural Michigan was hospitalized multiple times with a raging infection of her pancreas, spleen, and gallbladder. Surgery saved my daughter’s life. And that surgery was possible because of Medicaid.
As a parent and grandparent, I do everything possible to protect the health and safety of my loved ones — just like you do. That doesn’t just mean taking care of things around the house or getting them to the doctor — it can also mean fighting against the policies that make people sick or deny them care.
When my kids were young, poor air quality and environmental hazards caused our family physical, mental, and financial anguish. Now my three adult children have serious medical issues, including seizures and pulmonary embolisms.
Millions of other Americans have health issues like these — and their lives will be at risk if they lose Medicaid coverage.
That’s what drove me to found the Black Appalachian Coalition to close race and gender health disparities. Our work focuses on communities throughout Appalachia, including in Kentucky, Ohio, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, New York, and West Virginia.
Through my work in the Bluegrass region of Kentucky, I met Linda Brown — a staunch advocate for affordable health care, driven by personal experience.
Brown once had a medical emergency and spent nine days in the hospital. “I didn’t know if I would live, yet I never had to wonder how I would pay. Medicaid and the Affordable Care Act saved my life,” she said. Affordable health care “let me focus on healing, on breathing, on being a mother, instead of drowning in fear of medical bills.”
As Brown recovered, she felt hopeful. She could take care of herself and her son, and help others in the community. Now she’s a Black Appalachian Coalition trainer and supports people to share their story and point us towards solutions.
Now’s the time to start sharing stories like hers. Ten million Americans will lose health care coverage because of the federal cuts to Medicaid. Coupled with cuts to Affordable Care Act subsidies — the still unresolved sticking point of the recent government shutdown — up to 17 million Americans could lose care overall.
Without medical coverage and funding for health care institutions, people will lose access to maternal health care, mental health and drug treatment, and preventative and primary care.
Rural areas already experience slow care — but with the cuts, we will have no care. That’s because health care providers will cut services or shut down — especially in rural areas and low-income communities where hospitals are more dependent on patients with Medicaid coverage.
That will impact care even for people with traditional private insurance. We’ll see an increase in emergency room visits, and the burden of the costs will be shifted to already stretched communities.
The attacks on Medicaid aren’t just policy choices — they’re signing people’s death certificates before they ever see a physician. They’re denying people like my daughter — or someone you love — access to the treatments, prescriptions, and care that could save their lives.
With this experience in mind, I worked with 40 organizations to produce the Rural Policy Action Report, which provides a federal policy agenda — including on health care — to improve rural people’s lives.
I know I speak for my rural neighbors when I say we’re demanding that Congress reverse its cuts to Medicaid and the Affordable Care Act, expand health care coverage, lower prescription drug prices, and ensure the access to care that all of us deserve.