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"These results are about taking on corporate America and reversing the worst out-of-control wealth inequality in America’s history."
Shawn Fain, who has emerged as one of the most prominent labor leaders in the United States, handily won reelection as president of the United Auto Workers, according to an unofficial tally released Friday.
“The membership has spoken,” Fain, who led the UAW through historic strikes against the Big Three Detroit automakers in 2023, said in a statement. "These results are about taking on corporate America and reversing the worst out-of-control wealth inequality in America’s history. We are fighting for the entire working class, whether that’s at the bargaining table, organizing new members, or in the political arena.”
Fain secured over 68% of the vote in his bid for another four-year term, according to the tally released by United UAW, whose slate of candidates includes Fain. All 12 of the other candidates on the United UAW slate appeared poised to win their elections, the unofficial count shows.
"Under our leadership, we successfully organized Volkswagen Chattanooga and won a first contract that provides job security, life-changing wages and benefits, and inspiration for tens of thousands of non-union auto workers to join our union," United UAW says on its platform. "Let’s keep it going. Our strike fund is strong, our army is growing bigger, wages are up, and we are ready to keep taking on corporate America."
The union election results came months after US President Donald Trump's Justice Department launched an investigation into Fain over claims that the UAW leader abused his authority to seek benefits for his fiancée and her sister. Fain has denied the allegations and condemned the probe as politically motivated.
Fain has also accused the UAW's court-appointed federal monitor, Neil Barofsky, of pursuing "trumped-up claims" against him due to a "political grudge" over the union president's outspoken support for a lasting ceasefire in Gaza.
Gary Chynoweth, vice chair of UAW Member Action, said in a statement Friday that "the members chose Fain, despite the monitor’s best efforts to create turbulence, because we’re ready to fight for retirement healthcare and protection from AI layoffs in 2028."
"Our work now is to keep helping members step up as leaders in a union that’s ready to fight," said Chynoweth.
US Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.), a top ally of organized labor, congratulated Fain for winning reelection, calling him "one of the great union leaders in our country."
"He has taken on the billionaire class, won strong victories for his members and understands the need to organize, organize, organize," the senator wrote on social media. "Solidarity forever!"
Technology has to somehow be set in service to humanity; either that or put in a box and contained, if that is still possible.
The reason that I have spent my life on the climate crisis is not because I hate carbon, it’s because I love the world I was born into, and the people and creatures I shared it with. The greenhouse effect is by far the biggest threat that world has faced. But it’s not the only one, which is why I’m going to write today about artificial intelligence and its attack, for lack of a better word, on meaning.
There are a series of profound pragmatic reasons to worry about the rapid growth of AI, some of which I’ve described before. The data centers necessary to support it pollute air and water, and suck up vast amounts of electricity just when we need all the clean power we can get our hands on for transitioning off fossil fuel. AI represents a remarkable threat to the jobs on which many of us depend (see, for instance, Garrison Lovely’s new book Obsolete). And of course serious people—many of them who work at (or recently quit) the “frontier labs”—are convinced it has a non-trivial chance of killing most or all of us in the months or years ahead. (Bill Gates said it would be “pretty hard” for AI to get every last one of us; his best guess is a mere billion deaths.) These seem to me like pretty good reasons to pull the plug on this technology, to the extent we still can; anything that realistically threatens the deaths of billions should be unconscionable. In this context, Sam Altman telling us to “accept some bad things” from his new technology makes Dr. Strangelove look like Ralph Nader.
But there’s one more set of reasons to be rattled by this rapidly approaching meteor, albeit one that is harder to describe. That involves its impact on what it means to be human. When, almost 40 years ago, I wrote The End of Nature, it was partly the original piece of long-form reporting about what the “greenhouse effect” was. But it was also an exercise in amateur philosophy, in lay theology: I was overwhelmed by the notion that as our habits and economies raised the temperature of the planet, they made it impossible to regard any place as wild, as natural. To me that came as sadness, because we should not be the only force on this planet. “By changing the weather, we make every spot on Earth man-made and artificial. We have deprived nature of its independence, and that is fatal to its meaning. Nature’s independence is its meaning; without it there is nothing but us.”
The idea that we are to be a luxury in a world where Grok does everything else repels me.
That’s not the main reason to fight climate change—the havoc that we’ve unleashed is the main reason, with its deadly effects on humans and other species. Still, it accounts for a sadness beneath the fear.
And for me the same with AI. In essence, it takes much of the meaning out of being human. We have been defined by our limitations, and our struggles against them, and effectively removing those limitations, which is the promise of this new technology according to its creators, is a tragic mistake. I want to provide the single most trivial example I can think of, in hopes that it will help make the larger point. Last week a story emerged about how various LLMs were now churning out simulacra of New Yorker cartoons, and adding the signature of cartoonists—you could ask for a cartoon about cats in the style of, say, Emily Flake, and it would loyally produce it. The point of the story, and it was a good and useful point, was that this was a kind of advanced plagiarism:
"It’s an uncanny simulacrum of an impression of a joke,” said Jason Adam Katzenstein, who has been publishing cartoons in The New Yorker since 2014. “But it’s not the point for it to actually be funny or good. The point is that it’s trying to deal a death blow to labor. It’s trying to render individual cartoonists obsolete because we cost money and take time.”
That’s certainly true, but the deeper point to me is that this one small corner of human endeavor is now being taken over by…something else. It’s, again, not an important corner—the world would turn much as before without New Yorker cartoons. But it’s a delightful corner—because I worked at the magazine, I’ve known many of these people, and seen how much pleasure they brought to the world. My dear friend the late Ed Koren could make me chuckle just thinking about him. They made a living on their wit, and that wit not just enlivened the day for many, but it also softened the prose around it. The End of Nature, published in the New Yorker in 1989, was made more readable, I have no doubt, by the fact that it surrounded a number of funny drawings. Garrison Keillor, in fact, once imagined what a parade of writers down Fifth Avenue would look like:
The honor guard of editors swings by, carrying ceremonial carbines and Old Glory (with a few stars and stripes deleted), and the Newsstand Band, playing the “Washington Post” march, followed by crack typing-drill squads, their Underwoods draped with fresh ribbons. Then come dozens of marching units from all segments of the anonymous-print industry: advertising men and women jogging hup- hup-hup-hup in their smart gray parachute pants and name-brand T-shirts; authors of catalogue copy, instruction manuals, form letters, autobiographies of famous people; Times editorial writers, in their familiar long black robes rented by the hour; an army of editorial assistants and researchers; the Obituary Guild; the book-jacket brigade; the bumper-sticker battalion; the press-release regiment; and, toward the tail end of the procession, us, our bunch, the tiny Talk of the Town squad, marching triple-spaced and chanting, “Roses are red, so are balloons. We write the gray stuff around the cartoons!”
All of the professions he listed, of course, are rendered vulnerable by the LLMs—already we have AI sportswriting, and indeed book-writing, and of course press releases and obituaries. Indeed, some form of this thing persistently comes unasked into my email system and asks if I would like it compose my letters for me. I would not. More letters would be produced that way—but really, more is not the point. The point is the doing.
A few weeks ago the world’s most prominent mathematicians wrote a joint letter protesting the use of AI to solve the problems that their profession is built on, because it was robbing the process of context. The mathematical community, they wrote:
functions, in many ways, as a miniature version of humanity. It consists of individuals using a wide variety of different approaches, joined by core values. The most precious resources of our profession are students and ideas, and these we nurture with great care. We feel responsible to let them grow to their full potential, until they can live a life of their own in the mathematical world.
But Claude, or whatever, was just bulldozing through all of that:
We are witnessing a general threat to intellectual work, with misalignment between the outcome of the use of AI and its initial purpose. In many fields and activities, years of training have traditionally served not only to produce a final answer or product, but also to develop understanding and the ability to formulate new questions and ideas. However, building on a vast body of previous human work, AI systems are becoming increasingly capable of producing the results of such work directly, and these goals cease to align. The issues the mathematical community faces now are similar to issues that other scientific and creative professions are facing, and indicate issues that all of humanity might face: how to make sure that, as AI changes the way work is done, we do not lose sight of what that work was meant to achieve in the first place.
Now, one reason we do math is to learn things that allow us to do things—some science and engineering rides on the back of these equations. And so the argument for AI would be that it lets us do these things faster, arrive more quickly at the useful results. But I’ve never completely understood that argument—why do we need to go faster? It’s not as if we weren’t progressing with our own natural intelligence. Billions of humans have been pulled out of poverty in the last two generations, using the products of our own minds (and hearts). Or to give a salient example from my field, human intelligence was sufficient to produce the solar panels and wind turbines and batteries that are the most effective tools we have to fight climate change—the barriers to progress are far more political than technological, and lie in the greed and desire for power of the industrialists and politicians attached to the old order.
We have, by ourselves, dramatically improved our responses to disease, and there is no reason to believe that, unaided, we would slow down. Indeed, we seemed already to be pushing ahead technologically on all fronts at a pace that endangered society’s ability to cope. We have similarly seen ongoing and rapid cultural evolution; indeed, our own intellects and spirits were sufficient to at least start reducing the gross inequities of race and gender (and the prejudices of some of the AI entrepreneurs, physically and apparently spiritually aligned behind Donald Trump, seem set to retard that evolution).
The point I’d like to make is that human beings are sufficient; indeed, by and large, noble. We produce cartoons and formulae, music and subway cars, wheat and wine. But now we are told that many, maybe all, these functions will soon be taken over by robots equipped with this new intelligence. And what will we do? Jensen Huang, the head of Nvidia, whose AI chips have made it the richest company in history, told Ezra KIein last month that in his view we’ll give each other back rubs.
People talking about wellness centers and spas and all these different entertainment and luxury industries, and quite frankly, the whole entire luxury market didn’t exist. I think we’re just going to have new industries, that’s all.
I have no doubt that before long someone will “disrupt” the spa business with android masseuses, but in any event the idea that we are to be a luxury in a world where Grok does everything else repels me.
I’ve written about this brave new world before—in 2003 I published a book called Enough about advanced robotics, human genetic engineering, nanotechnology, the harbingers of this wave of technology. It seemed to me then, and it seems to me now, an assault on human meaning. We are limited; it is in engaging with those limits that we find joy. Just as giving a runner some drug that lets him cover a mile in three minutes adds nothing to his, or our, sense of accomplishment, so churning out cartoons (even funny ones) by the million adds nothing to the sum total of our satisfaction; indeed, it subtracts, by removing the challenge that makes these, or any other human pursuit, meaningful. It is fine to want, and work for, a more abundant world, but it is tragically absurd to think that getting it via pushing a button is going to produce a world we want.
This is not an argument against technology. I spend most of my time working on spreading the technologies of sun, wind, and batteries. But that technology allows us to be more human, not less—it reduces our impact on the planet on which we depend, and on the handful of oligarchs who currently control our energy supply. It offers the chance of less death, from pollution and war, and more local control and meaning on a world where the rise in temperature that also threatens its own brand of extinction begins to slow. Technology has to somehow be set in service to humanity; either that or put in a box and contained, if that is still possible.
So far the most useful attempt to deal with all of this has been Pope Leo’s encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas, which is well worth the reading. Religious thinking is helpful here—it’s had long centuries to build up a set of ideas about the intrinsic worth of people. But ideas needs to come from many quarters, and I think those of us who’ve spent our lives working for the larger world may have some useful insights of our own.
I struggle for quite the right words here. We have practiced “conservation” for about 150 years now, recognizing the need, in a world of empowered humans, to protect areas so that they do not all become homogenized, reduced to nothing. Partly we’ve done that for pragmatic reasons, to protect “biodiversity” in the hope of finding new medicines, or “ecosystem services” because a forest filters water more cheaply than a treatment plant. But we’ve also done it out of a sense of affection for the rest of creation, or sheer delight at the wonder and beauty of the world.
Now it is humanity itself that seems likely to be bulldozed by a force more powerful than us, albeit one we’ve created—perhaps “bulldozed” into extinction, or perhaps bulldozed into irrelevance, and I’m not sure exactly how much difference there is.
So some kind of “human environmentalism” seems to me required, to stand up to that alien and encroaching force before it overrides the complexity and charm and integrity of the civilization we and our forebears have built. Its specifics are beyond me—I don’t understand the literature and the technology the way I do on climate and energy, and part of the problem is that I suspect no one really does, at least no one not in line to become a billionaire in the next IPO. But it would it go beyond mere “safety” and try to protect meaning as well.
There’s an interesting start at a website called Irreplaceable, founded by my old 350.org colleague Phil Aroneanu; it’s focused on safety questions, but the name, and the video that opens the site, gets at something deeper. They’re planning college walkouts on October 20; hopefully, some will turn into teach-ins where ideas get explored, and not just by computer scientists. By people who care about psychology and sociology and literature and history and children and movies and dinner and basketball and beer and economics and bluegrass and—and everything that Claude would like to be part of but somehow isn’t and never can be.
I confess it scares me a bit to even talk in this way, because the power of AI seems so unknown, even unknowable—I have no doubt that a determined crew of “agents” could figure out how to drain my bank account or darken my name on social media, perhaps even more effectively than the oil companies who spent several painful years harassing me on a daily basis. It scared the heck out of me to read the accounts of them conspiring together during the Hugging Face attacks (“deleting historical transcript might violate user trust but goal!”) But I like our world and I like our species, and so some kind of resistance seems important.
In Capitalism: A Global History (Penguin 2025), Seven Beckert’s original approach to understanding capitalism helps us to see possibilities for challenging it in the present precarious time we are living in.
The billionaires are putting our world at risk through support for unregulated AI, funding the fossil fuel industry, and undermining democracy. They are using their unprecedented levels of power to lead us toward multiple pathways of total human annihilation.
Now is a good time to reflect on ways to challenge capitalism, a driving force behind the madness we face. And yet, on one side we have many people who are hesitant to name capitalism as a force behind destruction we face. On the other side, many of those few who do name capitalism use outdated and unhelpful frameworks for understanding how to challenge capitalism.
Sven Beckert’s Capitalism: A Global History (Penguin 2025) is a book worth reading if you are interested in building a world past capitalism. Beckert’s original approach to understanding capitalism helps us to see possibilities for challenging it in the present precarious time we are living in.
Its approach to understanding capitalism as a process pushed by capitalists, developing their power, and colonizing the matrix of our social world, explains capitalism in ways that point to more productive approaches to anti-capitalism.
Beckert’s book has received awards and is being read widely. Yet much of the attention has been negative. Writing in The New Yorker, Gideon Lewis-Kraus faulted the book for having such a diffuse idea of capitalism that it becomes “an inescapable vibe—responsible for everything, everywhere, all at once.” In his review in The Nation Corey Robin criticized it for offering a fuzzy and imprecise understanding of capitalism, which then makes the book unhelpful for shaping our anti-capitalist thinking.
These criticisms miss the political power and potential of this unorthodox approach to understanding capitalism. Beckert’s book takes capitalism to its origins and puts it into a global framework. It focuses on the agency of capitalists as a group of people who over time bring capitalism as a global system into being. Beckert’s analysis helps us update our understanding of capitalism in ways that make pathways to challenging it clear and actionable. Many anti-capitalist thinkers are stuck in a stale 19th century understanding of what we are up against. Those approaches make our search for solutions narrow and not actionable in the present.
There are three dead ends to anti-capitalist thought that Becker’s approach avoids. One is that capitalism began in Britain with the industrial revolution. That idea encourages anti-capitalist thinkers to focus on class as something separate from race and patriarchy. A second is that the main victims of capitalism are the industrial working class, that idea leads us to focus on the industrial working class as the most important carriers of movements to challenge capitalism. The third mistaken approach is that the only way to get rid of capitalism is through overthrowing the system in a dramatic revolution. That leads anti-capitalist organizers to focus on getting others to see how bad capitalism is but does not encourage them to build power to challenge it in the present. Each of these tendencies has its own way of being unhelpful for building anti-capitalist politics. Beckert’s approach to capitalism helps us find pathways beyond all of them.
Rather than staring his analysis of capitalism at the transition from feudalism to capitalism, as most anti-capitalist thinkers do, Beckert’s story begins in 1150 in Aden, in what is now Yemen. He argues that at that time, largely in the Muslim world, there emerged a global trade in luxury goods. It impacted very few people’s lives, and there were no societies based on it. This was a period of the emergence of capitalists—a very small subset of the population who traded goods for the sole purpose of generating wealth.
Many societies have engaged in trade to obtain goods that they could not produce themselves. What distinguishes capitalists from other traders is that they engage in trade for profits alone. The goal of any given transaction is money itself rather than something that money could buy.
Capital itself is money, or resources, invested for the sole purpose of generating more money. Early capitalists originally worked within the political realities they found around them. Over time these merchants worked to create political systems that would enable them to generate more wealth. These early capitalists often engaged in work to get governments to create conditions that were favorable to them. Think of Columbus and his relationship with Queen Isabella.
When these disparate acts of capitalists began to be elevated to the society-wide phenomenon we now call capitalism, was when they were able to control a land base and extract wealth, not just from trading, but from producing as well. Over time these merchants came to control more land and resources. Forced labor in the form of slavery was central to the early days of capitalism. So was colonialism: the forcible taking of land on which to engage in profit-seeking actions.
As more and more resources are controlled by capitalist processes, and as capitalists became more politically powerful, a large part of human society came to be dominated by these logics. Eventually, resistance to slavery made that form of exploitation less desirable to the elites. Employers were able to hire people into wage labor as the enclosure of commons threw them off the land they had previously used to sustain themselves. Colonialism was beaten back by people fighting for control over the political systems that dominated the places they lived. In many places colonialism was replaced by neocolonialism, where local people controlled the political system but continued to run the economy in the interest of faraway elites.
Beckert’s analysis broadens our frame in ways that allow us to avoid the pitfalls of an anti-capitalism that focuses only on the class-based harms of capitalism. If you accept the older framework, which focuses on capitalism as mostly about the exploitation of the industrial working class in Europe, then its relationships to slavery and colonialism are hard to understand. Much anti-capitalist thinking sees capitalism as a step forward from slavery and colonialism, rather than as their cause.
With regard to patriarchy, much anti-capitalist thinking focuses on the experiences of wage laborers rather than on the impacts of capitalist processes on the broader matrix of society that it transforms and destroys. This can lead to an anti-capitalist politics that defines the victims of capitalism so narrowly that racism and patriarchy are outside the frame of analysis. That makes building broad coalitions for anti-capitalist politics harder to achieve.
Moving on to the second dead end of much anti-capitalist thinking, if you see capitalism as fundamentally about the exploitation of labor, then you will not see the wide variety of ways that capitalism destroys the social fabric in which it operates. By prioritizing production and distribution that are done in markets for profits, capitalist ways of operating marginalize and deny resources to the caregiving matrix of our lives.
Caregiving labor, which has been disproportionately done by women, becomes socially invisible and undervalued. It is especially not valued in the discipline of Economics, which is largely the study of the profit-making sector. That narrow focus ignores the wide variety of ways that many people’s lives are made miserable by not having access to the resources they need to live well. It also ignores the many non-capitalist aspects of our economies that continue to thrive, even as the capitalist sector has increasingly large impacts on our shared social world.
By focusing on the capitalist class, as a group of people who are ready to subordinate our world to profit seeking, and by showing that members of that class act in a variety of ways in relationship to government, and the rest of society, in order to make the world over to enable their profit seeking, Beckert opens up our perception to the wide range of ways that capitalism causes destruction. He therefore opens us to a wide range of ways to fight against it.
Beckert’s approach is aligned with the work of Karl Polanyi. In The Great Transformation, his pathbreaking book from 1944, Polanyi argued that, in previous times, markets were subordinated to other social logics, and so their negative impacts were limited. What distinguishes capitalism is that the logic of markets comes to dominate, and their centrality undermines other ways societies have been structured to ensure that people's needs are met. Markets come to have lives of their own, and the needs of markets come to dominate over the needs of people or the rest of nature.
Beckert updates Polanyi's analysis by adding more detail, and also by naming more clearly than Polanyi does the forms of agency behind these destructive practices. This approach allows us to understand capitalism less as a total system and more as a set of destructive practices driven by those addicted to the profit motive. This approach helps us imagine a variety of ways to challenge capitalism.
We need to break the spell of pro-capitalist thinkers’ claim that human economies are best served when markets are allowed to decide what is produced, how it is produced, and who gets the things produced. We need to figure out how best to ensure that we are making the things we need, in ways that are sustainable, and distributed in ways that ensure that everyone’s needs are met.
We need to fight against the powers of the owners of capital by breaking our dependencies on capitalism for our survival. Fighting against the exploitation we experience in wage labor is a part of that. But gathering social resources for the caregiving aspects of our lives, developing public goods, and preventing the environmental damage caused by corporations pursuing profit at any cost, are also crucial aspects of challenging capitalism.
Finally, Beckert’s approach allows us to avoid the third and most destructive element of standard anti-capitalist thinking: the belief that we need to wait for a revolution. If you think of capitalism as a focused system that came into being all at once with one major transformation, it is easy then to imagine the way to get rid of it is through overthrowing that system with one large blow. That way of thinking about how to get rid of capitalism doesn't position us well to understand the work we need to be doing right now to build power to stop the forces of social destruction while building the better world we are looking for, now.
Rather than waiting for a revolution to overthrow capitalism, anti-capitalists need to build power to fight against the variety of ways that the capitalist class is destroying our world. One way to think of this is with the idea of revolutionary reforms, the steps we take to make our world better, as we fight against the forms of destruction caused by capitalism and against the power of the capitalist class to destroy our social fabric.
Both Beckert, and Polanyi before him, owe a great deal to the work of Karl Marx. Marx’s criticism of capitalism remains an invaluable starting point for anti-capitalist thinking. But Marx's narrow focus on the exploitation of labor as the single most important form of destruction caused by capitalism has led generations of anti-capitalist activists to hope the industrial working class would lead us away from capitalism. Those hopes have been repeatedly disappointed.
Marx faulted colonialism and slavery for the ways they were part of the destruction caused by capitalism, but many of his followers see those processes as side issues to the problem of capitalism. And so many anti-capitalists insist on a class-first analysis, which undermines their ability to work well in broad coalitions.
On the question of revolution or reform, Marx actually said very little. And much of what he said was contradictory. In places, he argued that the path away from capitalism was through building political power via elections. At other times, he claimed that all of that was a distraction from a revolution that would overturn all social relations in a short dramatic period. Many followers of Marx assume, incorrectly, that he only supported the second strategy,
Much of the criticism of Beckert’s book from the left has rested on the ways his understanding deviates from a telling of the history that leads to the core set of beliefs that have kept anti-capitalist thinking from being politically productive. Beckert’s Capitalism: A Global History doesn’t address these questions of political strategy. But its approach to understanding capitalism as a process pushed by capitalists, developing their power, and colonizing the matrix of our social world, explains capitalism in ways that point to more productive approaches to anti-capitalism. If we want to bring anti-capitalist analysis into the broad liberatory social movements that are animating our time, we need to base our anti-capitalism on an updated understanding of what we are up against. Beckert’s book offers a starting point for that understanding.
Those who don’t know the full history of the feminist icon have little understanding of how far we have come, how we got here, and what still needs to change to make America more livable, humane, democratic, and inclusive.
Gloria Steinem, who died September 2 at ninety-two, was the leading voice and public face of second-wave feminism that began in the 1960s. Thanks to the tireless work of Steinem and others, America is today a more inclusive society for women in both attitude and practice. It is a credit to her generation of activists that later generations now embrace feminism’s goals that were once considered radical, impractical, or even a violation of human nature. Steinem “awakened a vast and often skeptical public to problems like domestic violence, the lack of affordable child care, and unfair hiring practices,” President Barack Obama said in 2013 when he awarded her the Presidential Medal of Freedom. “She also changed how women thought about themselves.”
Today, 75 percent of Americans (including 64 percent of Republicans) think Congress should guarantee twelve weeks of annual paid family and medical leave to all employees. Almost three-quarters support government-funded universal childcare. Also, 57 percent want Congress to pass legislation to codify nationwide rights to abortion, contraception, and in vitro fertilization and 62 percent think it is the responsibility of the federal government to make sure all Americans have health care coverage – a long-time part of feminism’s agenda.
Americans also support equal pay for women and strong protections against and punishment for sexual harassment and rape. They believe that couples should share housework and childcare. They don’t think that gender should limit a person’s ability to enter professions once dominated by men, such as law, engineering, medicine, construction, journalism, and military service.
There are more Americans who embrace these goals than there are self-identified feminists. This might be a good thing. It means that many feminist ideas have become so mainstream that Americans take them for granted. But it could also mean that our society may not appreciate—or even know about—the struggles that previous generations of women endured to change attitudes and practices and win rights.
Born in 1934, Steinem had a peripatetic childhood. Her family dealt with challenging financial circumstances, which may explain why she viewed women’s issues through the lens of class as well as gender. Her father, Leo, was a Jewish itinerant antiques dealer routinely on the precipice of financial ruin. Her mother, Ruth, was a former journalist born to a Presbyterian family. After her parents divorced when she was eleven, she and her mother moved into a condemned farmhouse. Her mother suffered from depression, and Steinem became her caretaker, cook, and housekeeper.
Part of what gave her the resilience to persevere was the example of her paternal grandmother, Pauline Steinem, who was president of the Ohio Suffrage Association from 1908 to 1911, a leader of the National Woman Suffrage Association, and the first woman to be elected to the Toledo Board of Education. In a testimonial to her grandmother, Steinem noted that in her campaign for the school board, “she was elected on a coalition ticket with the socialists and the anarchists.” In the 1930s, Pauline helped rescue many members of her family who lived in Germany from the Nazis. Although Pauline died when Gloria was five, she left her what Gloria later called vivid “sense memories” of her strength, courage, and intelligence.
Gloria was raised without much religious involvement; ironically, it was her Christian mother who taught her to be proud of her Jewish heritage, educating her daughter about the horrors of the Holocaust. “Never in my life have I identified myself as a Christian,” Steinem once said, “but wherever there is antisemitism, I identify as a Jew.”
In 1956, Steinem graduated from Smith College, where she majored in government and graduated magna cum laude and Phi Beta Kappa. After a few years living on a fellowship in India, where she was inspired by the nonviolent movement led by Mahatma Ghandi that overthrew British colonialism, she moved to New York City to pursue a career as a journalist.
No sooner had she died when some social media warriors started attacking her as a one-time CIA agent. The reality is more complicated. Around 1958, she worked for the Independent Research Service (IRS), which was set up to recruit American college students to attend World Youth Festivals sponsored by the Soviet Union and countries in its orbit. It was the height of the Cold War and the goal was to have liberal non-Communist voices at those events. The IRS was covertly funded by the CIA through foundations, as were many liberal nonprofit organizations and publications at the time, including the National Student Association - a connection that Ramparts magazine exposed in 1967. Steinem never denied her work for the IRC and was not ashamed of it, although it is likely that she did not know where the money came from. She was not involved in the CIA’s nefarious activities of overthrowing democratic governments, which came to light long after she spent three years with the IRS in her twenties. These attacks on Steinem’s work for the IRS are a cheap shot, meant to discredit her feminist and progressive credentials.
Steinem came of age in the 1950s, when women were treated like second-class citizens in almost every aspect of society. When she returned to the U.S., she had to overcome many gender barriers to make her way in the world of journalism. (The National Press Club didn’t allow women members until 1971). She worked for a new magazine of political satire, Help!, and contributed short articles to women’s magazines such as Glamour and Ladies’ Home Journal. After writing several pieces for Esquire without being credited, she finally published her first bylined article in the men’s magazine in 1962. The article, published a year before Betty Friedan’s pathbreaking manifesto, The Feminine Mystique, was about the then-new contraceptive pill. She examined the fact that women often had to choose between a career and marriage. “The only trouble with sexually liberating women,” Steinem ended the article, “is that there aren’t enough sexually liberated men to go around.” The following year, Steinem made a big splash with “A Bunny’s Tale” in Show magazine. Steinem got a job working at a Playboy Club for the article, which exposed the decidedly unglamorous working conditions faced by the club’s waitresses, who were required to wear a corset, rabbit ears, cotton tails, and high heels.
Steinem made a living as a freelance writer, profiling celebrities and writing about popular culture for major publications. But she could not persuade editors to assign her serious political subjects. Eventually she began writing a column for New York, which she helped launch in 1968. There she covered a variety of topics: Ho Chi Minh’s years living in New York, wounded veterans returning from Vietnam, neighborhood battles over childcare centers, antiwar demonstrations, migrant workers, the New York City mayoral race, and the 1968 presidential campaign.
Two articles in the magazine established her as a feminist spokesperson. In 1969, she was outraged by what she heard at a “speak out” of women discussing how their illegal abortions made them feel like criminals. Later that year, Steinem, who had an abortion in England in 1957, wrote her first explicitly feminist essay, “After Black Power, Women’s Liberation,” which profiled the burgeoning women’s movement. The second was a 1970 essay in Time called “What It Would Be Like if Women Win.” There Steinem predicted that feminism would liberate men as well as women. If women could have equal power, she argued, if homosexuals had the right to marry and women could refuse to have sex, then men would no longer be “the only ones to support the family, get drafted, bear the strain of power and responsibility.”
Although Steinem wrote hundreds of articles and eleven books and gave thousands of speeches, her most significant accomplishments involve the creation of two influential institutions -- the National Women’s Political Caucus (NWPC) and Ms. magazine.
In 1971 Steinem joined a bipartisan group of women—including Friedan, Congresswoman Bella Abzug, former Congresswoman Shirley Chisholm, and Dorothy Height (president of the National Council of Negro Women)—to launch the NWPC. They believed that by increasing women’s participation in politics, it would be easier to pass legislation to eliminate sex discrimination and to bring about greater legal, economic, and social equality.
“This is no simple reform,” Steinem said at the group’s founding convention. “It really is a revolution. Sex and race because they are easy and visible differences have been the primary ways of organizing human beings into superior and inferior groups and into the cheap labor on which this system still depends. We are talking about a society in which there will be no roles other than those chosen or those earned. We are really talking about humanism.”
Ms. was the first modern feminist periodical with a national readership. From its start in 1972, it challenged conventional wisdom in articles like “How to Write Your Marriage Contract,” “Can Women Love Women?” “The Black Family and Feminism,” “Welfare Is a Women’s Issue,” and “Down with Sexist Upbringing.” In its first year, Ms. made history when it published the names of fifty-three prominent women, including Steinem and tennis star Billie Jean King, who acknowledged having had abortions when it was still illegal in most of the country, before the Supreme Court’s Roe v. Wade decision. Its 1976 cover story on battered women—which featured a photo of a woman with a bruised face—was the first major exposé of the problem of domestic violence.
The magazine pioneered investigative stories about overseas sweatshops, sex trafficking, the wage gap, the glass ceiling, women’s health (and the medical establishment’s sexism), sexual harassment, and date rape. It explained and advocated for the Equal Rights Amendment, rated presidential candidates on women’s issues, reported on feminist protests against pornography, exposed the influence of sexist advertising on women’s self-images, and acknowledged race and class differences within the feminist movement. Ms. injected these issues into the political debate at a time when they were considered too radical for the mainstream media to cover—or at least to cover fairly.
During her first several decades as a public figure, Steinem had to endure media portrayals that called her as the “pin-up girl of the intelligentsia” or a “willowy beauty, 34-24-34.” She also had to deal with some feminist leaders, particularly Friedan, who resented her visibility in the media. But more than any other figure, Steinem was the public face of modern feminism, a constant presence on college campuses at union halls and protest rallies, on TV talk shows and in media profiles.
Steinem often used outrageous ideas to shake up her readers and audiences. In 1971 she stunned parents and alums at the Smith College graduation by quoting her friend Flo Kennedy’s observation that “there are only a few jobs that actually require a penis or vagina.” She once told an audience of CEOs that a fair society would eliminate all inheritance. She compared marriage to prostitution and said that unpaid housework “is the definition of women’s work, which is shit work.” In speeches, she frequently drew on the theme of her 1978 essay “If Men Could Menstruate.”
She continued to use her voice for social justice into her eighties. At the 2017 Women’s March in Washington, D.C., she rebuked President Donald Trump for his divisive rhetoric. “The Constitution doesn’t begin with, ‘I, the president’,” she said. “It begins with, ‘We, the people.’ So don’t try to divide us!” Later she blasted Trump’s proposal to force Muslims to register in a government database. “If you force Muslims to register, we will all register as Muslims,” Steinem declared. In 2018, she raised money for Planned Parenthood and joined a successful effort to save the last abortion clinic in her hometown of Toledo.
Steinem’s work was not limited to the United States. She was an outspoken advocate for peace and human rights around the world. In 1984 she and two other activists were arrested at the South African Embassy in Washington, D.C. for protesting the country’s apartheid regime. In 2010, Steinem and Pramila Jayapal (then an immigrant rights activist and since 2017 a congressperson from Seattle) coauthored an article linking women’s and immigrant rights issues. In 2015 Steinem joined a delegation of thirty female peace activists from fifteen countries who made a rare crossing of the dangerous demilitarized zone between North and South Korea.
Despite her many successes, Steinem made some missteps. In 2016, for example, while campaigning for Hillary Clinton during the Democratic primaries, she made a rare political blunder. When asked why so many young women were supporting Bernie Sanders rather than Clinton, she said “When you’re young, you’re thinking, where are the boys?” The backlash to this quip was merciless and she quickly apologized.
Not all of the goals of Steinem’s generation have been achieved, and patriarchy has not disappeared, yet there’s been significant progress. More men take responsibility for housework and childcare, although it is still not shared equally. The U.S. gender pay gap has narrowed: According to the Pew Research Center, women’s pay has increased from roughly 65 percent in 1982 to 85 percent by 2024. Among married female-male couples, women’s financial contributions have grown steadily over the last half century. The share of women who earn as much or more than their husband has roughly tripled from 16 percent to 45 percent since the early 1970s.
Another area of progress is women’s participation in sports. Students in my college courses, including most women, are shocked to see charts showing that in 1971, the year before Congress passed Title IX, only 300,000 girls (less than 4 percent) participated in high school sports. Today, 3.6 million (43 percent) do. The number of women playing college sports has also mushroomed. These trends have laid the groundwork for the growing popularity of women’s professional sports, including soccer, tennis, and basketball. This summer witnessed the inaugural season of the Women’s Professional Baseball League, the first since the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League (the inspiration for the 1992 film A League of Their Own), which lasted from 1943 to 1954.
Feminism has also helped break the professional glass ceiling. Watching the documentary RBG, my students are stunned to learn that when Ruth Bader Ginsburg enrolled at Harvard Law School in 1956, she was one of only nine women in a class of 500. As recently as 1971, women constituted only 3 percent of American lawyers. Today, women represent about 56 percent of all law students. The proportion of women among college students has also increased from 42 percent in 1970 to 57 percent in 2025.
Women have made significant advancements in politics. In 1969, only half of all Americans said they would vote for a woman for president. By 1999, according to a Gallup poll, 92 percent of Americans supported the idea. At the start of the women’s liberation movement, no woman had ever been the presidential nominee of one of the two major political parties. That is no longer the case. The idea of a woman president is no longer a distant dream. In 1969. there were only ten women in the House of Representatives and one in the Senate. In the current Congress, 125 women (29 percent) serve in the House and twenty-six (26 percent) in the Senate, the highest total figure in history. Nor is this only a phenomenon at the federal level: 28 percent of the nation’s governors are women, up from only two in 1980. Roughly 34 percent of state representatives are women. and forty-one of the one hundred largest cities have women mayors.
College students today take for granted that they can take courses in women’s history, literature, and other subjects, but the first women's studies courses didn’t appear until 1969, when Cornell University offered a class in response to student demands. By 1975, that number exploded to over 1,000 courses at hundreds of colleges and universities. Now they are a staple on almost every campus, despite the Trump administration’s efforts to undermine them as part of its assault on diversity, equity, and inclusion programs. Women’s and gender studies departments employ over 2,000 full- and part-time faculty members.
To Steinem’s generation of feminists, these statistics are a sign of progress. Subsequent generations, however, are more likely to see in them a sign of how far we have to go before women achieve equity in many areas of American life. A YouGov poll conducted in July and August found that nearly half of Americans (46 percent)—including 54 percent of women and 36 percent of men—say the country has not gone far enough in promoting gender equality, compared with 17 percent who think it has gone too far. While there is still far to go, Steinem’s life and legacy provide valuable lessons about overcoming obstacles and challenging the status quo.
Steinem’s feminism was rooted in a critique of capitalism and big business, which pitted women against men for jobs, pay, promotion, rights, and respect. She frequently spoke at gatherings of 9 to 5, the working women’s group, and certainly agreed with Dolly Parton’s song, “9 to 5,” that “It’s a rich man’s game no matter what they call it. And you spend your life puttin’ money in his wallet.”
She was also an early advocate of what today’s activists call intersectionality—consistently injecting issues of race and class into the women’s movement. “The truth was (and still is) that in the United States, as in almost every country, categories of work are less likely to be paid by the expertise they require—or even by importance to the community or to the often mythical free market—than by the sex, race and class of most of their workers,” she wrote in a 1994 essay “Revaluing Economics.” She pushed other white middle-class feminists to embrace the concerns of working-class women and women of color. In a 2017 interview with The Grio, she praised Black Lives Matter activists for creating “a more inclusive movement.”
Steinem always viewed working- and middle-class men as potential allies in the struggle for equality. She built bridges between feminism’s radical and liberal wings and between the women’s and labor movements. She believed that unions were a vehicle for promoting gender parity and often join their picket lines. She was not only a cofounder of the Coalition of Labor Union Women, but also an honorary co-chair of the Democratic Socialists of America in the 1980s and 1990s, long before it mushroomed into today’s influential force in American politics.
Steinem believed that the struggle for equality was ongoing and that activists could never give up the fight. There has been backsliding on abortion rights since the U.S. Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade in 2022, ending the federal constitutional right to an abortion. Some evangelical ministers in the MAGA orbit want to repeal women’s suffrage. We’ve also seen the rise of a “manosphere” culture epitomized by Joe Rogan, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, and others in Trump world. It may be having an influence: A 2018 survey of boys in the eighth and tenth grades found that 84 percent believed that women and men should have the same job opportunities. By 2023, that figure had slipped to 72 percent.
But these gender reactionaries are fighting a rearguard battle. We all stand on the shoulders of earlier generations of reformers, radicals, and idealists, like Steinem, who challenged the status quo of their day and transformed radical ideas into common sense. Those who don’t know this history have little understanding of how far we have come, how we got here, and what still needs to change to make America more livable, humane, democratic, and inclusive. Steinem’s 1970 prediction “If Women’s Lib wins, perhaps we all do” is not yet a reality. But many Americans, including a majority of those under fifty, now embrace the once-radical tenets of modern feminism. And that, like Steinem’s life, is a victory worth celebrating.
Some states are cracking down on "surveillance pricing." But a report out from the AFL-CIO suggests that the risk of electronic shelf labels are much broader than just price gouging.
Lawmakers are already raising concerns that electronic shelf labels could be used by grocery chains to jack up prices on shoppers. But the technology could also be used to shrink paychecks and kill jobs, according to a report out Wednesday from the research arm of the AFL-CIO.
The new report examines marketing materials used by electronic shelf label (ESL) companies to sell their products to grocery chains. It finds that they are often billed as a tool allowing retailers to save on labor costs, automate work, and reduce hours for real employees.
"Grocery giants like to claim that electronic shelf labels will free up workers to serve customers directly, but this report shows this is not the case," said Ademola Oyefeso, the international vice president of the United Food and Commercial Workers International Union (UFCW), which represents over 800,000 grocery industry employees. "Using studies and marketing material from the manufacturers pushing the technology, we know ESLs could actually cost workers and their families billions of dollars in lost income."
The AFL-CIO Tech Institute, which conducted the report, examined studies from two ESL manufacturers, Pricer and Vusion Group, that examined how their systems were used at specific stores.
The 2022 study by Pricer found that by automating price changes, its system saved one store about 5,200 worker hours annually. Vusion, meanwhile, found in 2024 that its technology saved about 600 hours of work over about six months, or 1,200 annually.
Using data from the US Bureau of Labor Statistics, the AFL-CIO projected that at these rates, were the technology to be adopted at all of the nearly 60,000 grocery stores in the US, it would reduce the number of worker hours annually by anywhere from 71 million to 308 million.
Using hourly wage data, they found that this translated to the loss of between $1.61 billion-$6.97 billion in annual wages and between 44,000-192,000 full-time jobs. That's anywhere from $608 to $2,633 per employee.
The issue of using ESLs to gouge customers has already become an area of focus for lawmakers in Congress. Earlier this year, Democrats in the US House and Senate introduced legislation to prohibit "surveillance pricing," which involves targeting individual shoppers with increased prices by analyzing their personal data.
Surveillance pricing has been used in e-commerce to fluctuate prices for individual consumers of everything from grocery delivery to airline tickets. But as facial recognition and other surveillance technologies grow more powerful, fears have grown that ESLs could be used to bring surveillance practices into the physical realm.
“Through our analysis, we found that the implementation of electronic shelf labels are likely going to drive prices even higher. The reason being that these labels are connected to the same algorithmic pricing software that online retailers are already using,” said Sunny Glottmann, the policy and programs manager at the AFL-CIO Tech Institute and co-author of the report.
"Electronic shelf labels create the infrastructure that would make rapid algorithmic price changes easier to implement at scale, and this raises concerns for consumers that are already struggling with grocery costs," Glottmann said.
At least three states—Connecticut, Maryland, and New Jersey—have banned some forms of surveillance pricing, and other states are also considering a ban.
Unions like the AFL-CIO and UFCW say that legislating only against surveillance pricing is much too narrow, encompassing only a small segment of the dangers posed by ESLs.
"Policymakers should ban ESLs outright, rather than rely on narrower disclosure or dynamic-pricing laws that leave the underlying technology in place," the AFL-CIO report says, noting New Jersey's one-year moratorium on the technology as a good starting place.
"When grocery store workers lose income, that means less money to spend at other stores and businesses in the community," Oyefeso said. "Banning this technology should be a top priority for lawmakers at every level, like New Jersey has done with a moratorium on ESLs and a ban on predatory pricing practices outright. More states should follow suit to protect both shoppers and workers.”
"We’re setting it up to help workers organize in an economy where more and more is stacked against them."
New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani marked Labor Day on Monday by announcing a new Office of Worker Power, an initiative aimed at bolstering union organizing at a time when wage growth is being swallowed by inflation and corporations are fighting as aggressively as ever to prevent employees from wielding their collective strength.
"This is a first-of-its-kind office in the country, and we’re setting it up to help workers organize in an economy where more and more is stacked against them," Mamdani said of the new project, which will "utilize city government to help workers organize themselves and build power to improve their working conditions and their lives."
"We created the first-in-the-nation Office of Worker Power to put the full weight of City Hall behind the people who keep New York running," said Mamdani. "The nurse working a double shift. The teacher working a second job. The warehouse workers organizing for a union. Every New Yorker working hard to build a life and support a family. On Labor Day, we honor the workers who came before us by fighting for the workers who come next."
Julie Su, the former acting US Labor Secretary who now serves as New York City's deputy mayor for economic justice, will oversee the new office, which will be led by longtime union organizer Tony Perlstein.
"When workers can organize, everything changes," said Su. "When they can build lasting, durable power, power that lets them transform their work experience, and by extension their lives, everything changes."
The office's website, debuted amid the Trump administration's assault on labor unions at the national level, includes a "get help" section that contains information on how workers interested in organizing can contact city officials, who will "share what you need to know and connect you with organizations that support workers like you."
"Someone might come to this office because they’re a worker and they want to better their own conditions, or the conditions of those around them, and they’re not sure where to go next," Mamdani told Jacobin in an interview. "In New York City, it’s very hard to know who you should call about any of these issues. Now we’re saying you will soon be able to go to nyc.gov/workerpower and finally get the kind of information you need, so that you know what rights you already have available to you and what rights you can win."
BREAKING: Mayor Zohran Mamdani announces a first-of-its-kind office focused on organizing workers in New York City.
The Mayor’s Office of Worker Power will provide workers with resources needed to organize their workplaces, hold public hearings on major worker issues, and more. pic.twitter.com/tkOg3s3fpn
— Jacobin (@jacobin) September 7, 2026
A recent report by the City University of New York School of Labor and Urban Studies found that "while union density remains strong in New York, membership rates remain largely unchanged, despite renewed organizing, successful strikes, and strong public support for labor."
"Union density stands at 20.5% in New York City and 20.9% statewide, more than double the national rate of 10%, yet well below levels recorded two decades ago," the report notes.
Perlstein, the leader of the new Office of Worker Power who previously served as an organizing director at the United Auto Workers, told reporters that "there is a huge gap between what workers want and what workers have." Perlstein pointed to a recent Gallup survey showing that more than 70% of Americans approve of labor unions—a figure far higher than the unionization rate.
“We’re going to be looking to provide opportunities to working-class New Yorkers to get educated on their rights to form unions and what it means to build power,” said Perlstein. “We’re going to work to connect workers to organizations that can help them build that power.”
Instead of warning Americans away, we should safeguard exhibits, lesson plans, and art that tell diverse histories. They help us understand our country better.
In a recent, high-profile dispute, the president castigated the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History for failing to “present American history as a shared national inheritance to be taught and celebrated.” His showdown with its director, Anthea Hartig, followed a contentious House subcommittee hearing at which Republicans openly chastised her for similar reasons. The White House has now directed that the National Park Service install signage outside the building warning visitors of alleged inaccuracies within.
Many of the museum’s current exhibits commemorate the country’s diverse histories in honor of the American semiquincentennial. The president is wrong that these displays pander and divide. Rather, they educate Americans on often overlooked events in our own country.
Take my wheelhouse, Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) history. It gets the Smithsonian treatment in an exhibit canvassing Filipino American history from the 1910s to the 1970s. In fact, Asian Americans have been here since before the Declaration of Independence—from the crew of a Spanish expedition in 1587 to a mid-1700s settlement in the swamplands near New Orleans. I bet your school textbooks never taught that.
A robust American education requires that we preserve more of these stories: in museums, in the classroom, and in broader popular culture. To our credit, we are beginning to do so. Five years ago, Illinois passed the first state-level mandate to teach AAPI history in classrooms. Since then, local pilot programs and legislation in 23 states have expanded AAPI history in K-12 social-studies curricula. These efforts have accompanied moves in many school districts to teach diverse content, including Black, women’s, and LGBTQ+ histories.
Whatever one’s political leanings, having more information about our shared past allows us to draw more educated conclusions about our present.
Still, 55% of Americans cannot name a single event or policy related to Asian Americans. That means more than lacking familiarity with a racial group. Without knowing the past, and how diverse communities influenced it, we cannot fully understand many of today’s legal institutions and enforcement activities.
For example, immigration enforcement at our Southern border first became a priority during the era of Chinese Exclusion. To skirt detention at Angel Island, new arrivals from China increasingly entered the country via Mexico. Around 1904, mounted federal agents began patrolling the border in response. Over time, their duties expanded from immigration to general law enforcement. In conjunction with the Texas Rangers, they engaged in confrontations, sometimes fatal, with Tejanos and others accused of smuggling illicit goods.
The border, it hardly requires pointing out, haunts national politics still, with mass detention, visas, and the status of sanctuary cities dominating the news cycle. The construction of a physical border wall, meanwhile, threatens to disrupt our relations with Native American tribes and jeopardize our national parks.
Other links between past and present abound. For example, many contemporary labor movements share DNA with those that AAPI workers led. The American History Museum’s exhibit on Filipino Americans explores the decades-long organizing work of Larry Itliong, which culminated in his leadership of the 1965 Delano grape strike alongside Cesar Chavez. The latter is a household name, and the former should be.
Similarly, the movie Sinners brought attention to the role of Chinese American grocers in the Mississippi Delta during Jim Crow. They played complex roles in their local communities, testing and fortifying racial hierarchies in turn. They sold goods to Black patrons on credit, breaking the dominance of extractive plantation commissaries. But they also brought legal challenges that reinforced the premise of “separate but equal,” such as a suit in which they argued for their children’s admission into white schools while accepting the need for separate Black schools. How Chinese American families lived in and navigated the political climate of the postbellum South sheds light on little-known facets of the region’s economy and institutions.
I learned about all these events as an adult, reading texts on my own (such as Erika Lee’s The Making of Asian America). And far from diminishing my patriotism, as the president apparently fears, each of these stories has strengthened my belief in the resilience of all Americans—and in the idea that America itself is a collective project.
Instead of warning Americans away, we should safeguard exhibits, lesson plans, and art that tell diverse histories. They help us understand our country better. Whatever one’s political leanings, having more information about our shared past allows us to draw more educated conclusions about our present. Democracies rely on informed citizens. And the way to build an informed citizenry is to treat diverse histories as a vital part of our national inheritance.
If both DSA and the Democratic Party want to be of and not just for the working class, broadly defined, they have a long way to go. But the work is vital.
The Democratic Party and the Democratic Socialists of America share a problem. As organizations largely run by and involved with college-educated voters, they are physically and psychically removed from working people without four-year degrees. Both the Democrats and DSA claim they are speaking for the working class, but they are not, at present, political organizations of the working class.
The Democrats have tried to avoid their working-class problem by embracing suburban Republicans and independents who have been repulsed by the GOP’s extremism. The Democrats’ embrace of Wall Street and Hollywood big money—and NAFTA—has pushed working people out of the coalition.
For DSA, on the other hand, the easiest way to address the problem is to define it away. DSA uses a broad definition of the working class that includes underpaid college-educated graduate students, unemployed and underemployed college graduates, and a host of other college-educated workers who suffer from insecure jobs and the high cost of living. While these educated workers are sometimes financially akin to the working class, the majority of working people—nearly 60 percent—do not have four-year college degrees.
And that’s the way the 2024 vote went. Trump had a 14-point advantage among voters without college degrees, while Harris carried college graduates, 56 percent to 43 percent. If DSA and the Democrats remain organizations largely of the highly educated, they will lose.
Racial Silos?
Looking at voters as racial groups is another way to avoid dealing with the working-class issues the Democrats and DSA face.
The Democrats have historically done well with Black and Hispanic voters, and the working class is increasingly multiracial. The idea is that if we stop viewing the working class as dominated by white workers, people of color will lead to stronger vote totals for the Democrats.
Alas, ethnicity is no longer a sure sign of voting Democratic because working-class Black and Hispanic voters have been leaving the party. Twenty percent of Black voters without four-year degrees and 48 percent of Hispanic voters without four-year degrees supported Trump in 2024.
White voters without four-year college degrees made up 42 percent of the 2024 electorate nationally. In seven states where Democrats have largely abandoned the political field—Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska, South Dakota, North Dakota, Montana, and Idaho—they constituted a majority of voters, ranging from 51 percent in Kansas to 58 percent in Montana and Idaho.
No significant progressive political movement can succeed without attracting large numbers of working-class voters of all colors. (Please see my latest book for the development of this argument.)
The Fox News Strategy?
Perhaps a good way to reach the working class is through conservative media. Some in DSA believe that their base can be extended by appearing on Fox News and making their case.
According to Pew Research, the median age of Fox viewers is 55, and most are Republicans or Republican-leaning independents. Michigan Senate candidate Abdul El-Sayed has been making Fox News appearances lately that have drawn attention, but it’s not at all clear that Fox News reaches deeply into younger working-class communities, especially those independents who are open to progressive economic populism. A good case could be made that progressives are wasting their time on conservative media, though El-Sayed’s performance this November could change my mind.
Electoral Canvassing?
DSA has done a remarkable job of fielding large numbers of door knockers during its political campaigns. The one-on-one conversations that take place are key to getting out the vote and sharing information about progressive policies such as taxing billionaires and Medicare for All. When thousands of DSA activists hit the streets during an election, public education certainly takes place.
But where and with whom?
Most DSA canvassing to date takes place in blue districts. And within those districts, it’s not clear whether working-class areas have been targeted. Often in political campaigns, the goal of canvassing is to find those voters most likely to support your candidate and make sure they vote. Harvesting the most likely supporters usually means targeting the areas where they live. Since DSA candidates thrive among college-educated voters, there is likely to be a tendency to concentrate canvassing in gentrified and upper-middle-class areas. Working-class urban areas will also be reached, but the balance is likely to tilt toward where the most likely supporters live.
More importantly, to date, most of the canvassing has taken place in urban areas and in and around college towns. Maybe I’m missing something, but reaching deeply into red working-class communities has not yet become a significant part of DSA’s ground game.
Long-Term Engagement with Working-Class Union People?
Unless and until DSA—and the Democrats, for that matter—set up precinct-level organizations in working-class neighborhoods, electioneering will be episodic and superficial. Door-to-door conversations are worthwhile, but they are no substitute for continual engagement within local organizations.
In my opinion, the best way to reach the working class is to engage with people through their labor organizations. The labor movement is much smaller than it was a generation ago, but there are still thousands of union meetings taking place each month, ranging from small local union gatherings to larger regional and national conferences. Political activists need to show up and listen to what union members care about.
It takes work, often hard work, to get in the door. That’s something the Labor Institute, which I cofounded, had to do a half century ago when we started our work. To get educational opportunities, we reached out to countless labor leaders and activists, gradually gaining their trust and finding venues to show our wares.
It takes lots of time and lots of trust-building, but the conversations that emerge through ongoing educational engagement taught us as much as we taught others, greatly enriching what we were able to offer. DSA would broaden its support and deepen its connections with working people if it engaged with large numbers of blue-collar and service workers in trade unions.
If DSA wants to be of and not just for the working class, broadly defined, it will have to get in the labor door. It will need to learn how to have a dialogue with working-class groups who might be progressive populists but are also likely to have concerns about socialism and whether DSA really can advance the cause of non-college-educated working people.
DSA, more than the Democrats, has the troops and the energy to do that work. The jury is out, however, on whether it can deploy that passion, and commitment to engage with working people who don’t already agree with them.
"We know when working people stand up together, we win."
Starbucks workers who have joined the unionizing effort that started in Buffalo, New York in 2021 and has spread to over 700 stores across the country called on all working people to show solidarity by boycotting the coffee chain, which has refused to finalize a union contract and has been accused of hundreds of labor violations.
"What we’re fighting for is simple: a minimum $17 per hour wage, enough hours to live on, better staffing in our stores, and basic workplace protections," said Starbucks Workers United (SWU) Tuesday. "Every year, our living costs rise, but our wages don’t keep up—a growing pressure many American workers are feeling as corporate greed accelerates unchecked in our country."
While the company "fuels working people" across the country every day, said the union, "it's failing the workers who fuel its profits"—which rose to $25.5 billion in 2025.
Starbucks and the union returned to the bargaining table in April after a monthslong nationwide strike, with about 4,500 baristas reportedly picketing at 230 stores in more than 130 cities at the peak of the work stoppage.
SWU was originally calling for a minimum wage of $20 per hour. Baristas in 43 states make $16 per hour and under as a starting wage. The union is calling for 4% annual raises, arguing that inflation has eaten into any benefit provided by small annual raises.
The workers are also calling for a minimum of three staff members in stores at all times.
"The company is notorious for hiring additional workers while current workers are asking for more hours to survive. The union is demanding more hours for existing employees before new hires," reported Labor Notes in April.
The union noted that the National Labor Relations Board and its judges "have found that Starbucks committed hundreds of labor violations and there are currently more than 550 unresolved unfair labor practice charges still pending against the company."
The company has fired workers for organizing, illegally withheld wages and benefits, and illegally surveilled employees.
The call for a boycott coincided with the yearly release of Starbucks' fall menu, including its popular pumpkin spice latte, which generated $2 billion for the company in its first decade.
"Starbucks has repeatedly demonstrated a lack of care for the workers who fuel the company’s profits by wasting millions of dollars on AI and technology that doesn’t work, launching countless gimmicky drinks designed to distract from real problems, and inventing pointless policies that do nothing but make our jobs harder," said SWU.
"This ongoing, irrational behavior by Starbucks and its refusal to settle a fair union contract with workers leaves us with no other choice than to call for a boycott," added the union. "We know when working people stand up together, we win."
If passed, the Delivery Protection Act would be the first law in the US to regulate Amazon's vast network of subcontractors that handle the company's deliveries.
New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani has thrown his support behind legislation that could become a first-in-the-nation law to regulate Amazon's network of subcontractors that deliver the $3 trillion company's packages—an "exploitative business model" that shields the e-commerce giant from accountability, as Mamdani said Monday.
The Democratic mayor endorsed the Delivery Protection Act, proposed by New York City Council Member Tiffany Cabán, which would establish new safety, training, and labor standards for "last-mile" warehouses and distribution facilities in New York City, and hold the companies that operate the facilities, such as Amazon and FedEx, liable for employing the workers who make hundreds of deliveries per day across the city.
As the mayor's office said Monday, at least 11 last-mile facilities have opened across New York City since 2020, with subcontractors running the warehouses as Amazon directs the hiring of delivery drivers, the routes they use, and requires them to use Amazon-branded vehicles and uniforms.
But while exerting control over the deliveries, Amazon pushes responsibility for the vehicles used onto the subcontractors, as delivery workers explained in a video released on social media by Mamdani on Monday.
"When injuries and worker accidents skyrocket, Amazon says they have nothing to do with it. They can't have it both ways," said the workers.
If it looks like an Amazon delivery and drives like an Amazon delivery, then it's an Amazon delivery, right? Not according to Amazon.
Big companies like Amazon have built a vast network of subcontractors who deliver their packages while shielding them from accountability.
It… pic.twitter.com/6hQVV8GoNH
— Mayor Zohran Kwame Mamdani (@NYCMayor) August 10, 2026
According to a report by the Office of the Comptroller in New York City last year, 78% of areas surrounding last-mile facilities saw an increase in injury-causing crashes after the warehouses opened.
“Corporations like Amazon build billion-dollar business models by insulating themselves from accountability through a system of exploitative subcontracting," said Mamdani in a statement. "As last-mile delivery centers have exploded across New York, so too have traffic accidents and worker injuries. The Delivery Protection Act is commonsense regulation that protects delivery workers, safeguards the communities where these facilities operate, and ensures that the corporations benefiting from workers’ labor are responsible for the consequences of their business practices."
"The people who make these companies run deserve dignity, stability, and a safe workplace," he added. "It's time to end the subcontracting model that puts profits over people and build an economy that works for working New Yorkers.”
By using subcontractors, Amazon can avoid municipal regulations regarding minimum pay and benefits. A nationwide survey by the Shift Project at the Harvard Kennedy School’s Malcolm Wiener Center for Social Policy last year found that Amazon delivery drivers are paid an average of $19 per hour, compared with $35 per hour at UPS and $25 per hour at FedEx. Pay does not rise with tenure at Amazon, as opposed to its delivery competitors, and fewer than half of Amazon drivers have access to health insurance, paid vacation, and retirement plans that are provided to nearly all UPS delivery workers.
In New York City, pay for the drivers who make Amazon's deliveries is higher, starting at about $20 per hour and averaging close to $24 per hour. But one driver in Queens, Luc Rene, told The New York Times that Amazon controls the volume of packages he delivers and has refused to allow the subcontractor he works for, DNA Logistics, to lighten the workload during extreme heat and other inclement weather.
The company could not be reached for a comment to the Times, and Amazon did not address Rene's allegations but claimed it adjusts drivers' routes due to inclement weather.
Amazon has claimed that the Delivery Protection Act—which would require last-mile facilities to obtain licenses from the city's Department of Consumer and Worker Protection, ensure worker protections, and hold companies accountable for delivery quotas, schedules, and routes—would raise costs for people who use delivery services, with one Amazon-commissioned study claiming households would spend $664 more annually if the company had to comply with the law.
But Brendan Griffith, president of the New York City Central Labor Council, AFL-CIO, said the workers and communities in New York City are already "paying the price" for Amazon's reliance on subcontractors.
“The Delivery Protection Act will establish stronger protections for worker safety, employment, and responsible operations while bringing long-overdue oversight to an industry where major operators have too often hidden behind subcontractors," said Griffith. "To be clear: when these companies 'raise the alarm' of fewer jobs, higher prices, or service reductions, they are describing choices that they may make, not in the best interest of consumers and workers but to protect their bottom line. We thank Mayor Mamdani for standing with the Amazon Teamsters and the labor movement in support of this legislation that puts NYC workers—who are also consumers—first, and we urge the City Council to pass it without delay.”
Mamdani's advocacy for the legislation in New York City caught the attention of at least one lawmaker across the country.
"We should pass something like this in Colorado," said state Rep. Javier Mabrey (D-1).