SUBSCRIBE TO OUR FREE NEWSLETTER
Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
capitalism
Can We Do Better Than Trumpian or Neoliberal Trade Policy? Yes.
Trump’s program and the neoliberal policies that came before him have substantial differences, but both preserve and even worsen the great economic inequalities and uneven power arrangements that dominate our society. We can do better.
Aug 05, 2025
U. S. President Donald Trump has remade the international trading system by ending the so-called “free trade” era and bringing back protectionism. In doing so, he has created massive uncertainty in the U.S. and global economies and has thrown into disarray the traditional left-right divide on international trade. However, as left-wing economist Arthur MacEwan argues in the interview that follows, neoliberal regimes and Trumpian tariffs are not the only options for organizing international trade. As an alternative, he makes the case for a progressive U.S. world trade policy. MacEwan is professor emeritus of economics at the University of Massachusetts Boston. Among his many publications are 25 years of columns in the progressive magazine Dollars & Sense. His most recent book is Ask Dr. Dollar: Essays on Economic Power, Inequality, and Climate Change.
C. J. Polychroniou: Trump has made trade tariffs a key component of his foreign policy strategy. In doing so, he is trying to rewire the global economy in a manner that will be serving U.S. interests. Indeed, the plan behind Trump’s protectionist policies seems to be the improvement of U.S. economic competitiveness, bringing manufacturing back to the United States, and paying off the deficit. Is the bet paying off or is this a strategic blunder since tariffs are putting the squeeze on businesses and consumers and causing significant uncertainty?
Arthur MacEwan: Tariffs are unlikely to regenerate manufacturing in the United States, and especially important, tariffs are not likely to lead to a substantial increase of jobs in manufacturing.
The changes in U.S. manufacturing have not resulted simply because of competition from production in China and other countries. Production in manufacturing between 2000 and 2024 was relatively stagnant, rising by only 2.4% in this period while overall GDP (adjusted for inflation) rose by 65%. The manufacturing sector’s contribution to GDP dropped from 15% to 10%. A significant portion of this was, indeed, the replacement of domestically produced goods by imports.
However, another significant part of the decline was due to the fall of the U.S. share of manufactured exports to global markets, as China replaced the U.S. as the leading supplier of manufactured goods to the rest of the world. In 2000 the U.S. exported $648 billion of manufactured goods, almost three times as much as China’s $220 billion. But in 2024, China’s export of manufactured goods had risen to $3.26 trillion, while the U.S. amount had risen to only $1.24 trillion. U.S. tariffs on imports from China (or elsewhere) are not going to do anything to restore the global market for U.S. manufactured exports.
And then there are the jobs. A primary rationale offered for the Trump tariffs is to restore jobs in manufacturing. Yet, that 2.4% increase of manufacturing output was accompanied by a 26% decline of workers in manufacturing—from 17.2 million in 2000 to 12.8 million in 2024. Automation, which increased output per worker by almost 40%, accounted for a large amount of the employment decline. U.S. tariffs will not replace the jobs—the many, many jobs—lost to automation.
Furthermore, and somewhat ironically, while tariffs might seem to favor U.S. production over imports for the domestic market, those tariffs will also undercut U.S. production by raising the prices of inputs. U.S. manufacturing, now and in a potential future, is highly dependent on imports of raw materials and parts. Tariffs will raise the price of these inputs, reducing any overall shift to domestic production.
There is no way of getting around the price problem, and it is much larger than the difficulties caused by the rising prices of inputs to manufacturing production. The whole purpose of tariffs is to raise the price of imported goods so that domestic production will be able to compete with the imports! If, for example, no tariffs were imposed on China-produced electric cars, they would make large inroads in the U.S. market for electric cars, replacing the more expensive U.S.-produced models. But with the tariffs, the China-produced cars become more expensive in the U.S. and the U.S.-produced cars might be able to compete.
In other words, U.S. buyers—the population in general—pay higher prices to generate more domestic production of goods now imported. Theoretically, this could be worth it, as I will take up shortly, but it is unlikely to be popular.
All in all, the extent to which the new tariffs will succeed in generating more domestic manufacturing is questionable. However much new manufacturing takes place, the creating of new manufacturing jobs will be much less. And, in our role as consumers, none of us will be pleased by the higher prices.
Worse still, the tax—and the tariff is a tax—will fall disproportionally on low-income people. In effect, the tariff/tax is a sales tax, raising the cost of purchases. Low-income people spend a higher proportion of their incomes on purchases, while high-income people spend a smaller proportion of their income on purchases. Thus, the tariff/tax is what we call a “regressive” tax.
Certainly, this appears to be an economic and political blunder. But Trump and his minions, crying “American First” and stressing the nationalism and xenophobia of a tariff-based economy, might get away with it.
C. J. Polychroniou: Free trade agreements have been a hallmark of neoliberalism while left-wing parties have stood for the most part in support of protectionist policies. Does this mean that Trump’s obsession with tariffs has put an end to the traditional left-right divide on trade policy?Arthur MacEwan: It is correct that many people on the left have responded to neoliberalism by calling for the protection of U.S. production from foreign imports. Yet, there are important elements of neoliberalism that cannot be characterized by “free trade” but, instead, are protectionist. The U.S. has used international trade agreements to extend the U.S. system of patents and copyrights. This amounts to protecting the monopolistic position of, especially, large pharmaceutical and large high-tech companies. Moreover, “free trade” agreements tend to include dispute resolution procedures that are highly favorable to business interests. For example, if new environmental regulations are established to reduce imports of Canadian tar-sands oil (which is especially bad for the environment), the trade agreement gives the Canadian oil-producing companies the right to sue because their profits have been lost.
Nonetheless, “free trade” has come to mean opening domestic markets to imports without restriction. It is understandable why workers and people on the left oppose such openings. Workers understandably fear that they will lose their jobs and not be able to obtain reasonably equivalent new jobs. Workers’ power and the power of their unions is undermined by the “free trade” of neoliberalism. At the same time, by giving businesses more options—e.g., the option of importing goods instead of producing at home—the power of business is enhanced.
So, I think it best to see the left-right divide on international trade as a divide over power. If international commerce would be organized in a way that would maintain or even increase the power of workers, it would have the support of the left—but the right would not be so happy.
C. J. Polychroniou: Are there other ways to organize U.S. international trade besides neoliberal free trade agreements and Trumpian tariffs?Arthur MacEwan: Disputes over how to organize international commerce are usually structured by a simplistic dichotomy between “free trade” and Trumpian tariffs (or other forms of restricting trade). Yet, there are alternatives. In particular, it is possible to set out a progressive form of U.S. policy on international commerce.
One element in the foundation of a progressive trade policy would be recognition that there are real gains that can be obtained, and should be preserved, from international commerce. Some of these gains are economic—there are goods and services that can be produced more effectively in some places than in others due to differences, for example, in natural resources and in the historically developed skills and specializations in different places. There are also great cultural, culinary, and scientific gains that can be obtained by international connectedness.
Also, a progressive trade policy would be based on protecting workers and their power, not on protecting jobs. However, many workers and progressives see the trade problem in terms of jobs being destroyed. For example, when more cars and car parts are imported from other countries, jobs are lost in the U.S. auto industry. But this does not mean that a progressive trade policy should throw up tariffs to protect those jobs. There is nothing intrinsically more valuable about those jobs than many other jobs. It is workers, not their jobs, that need protecting. Just like workers who lose their jobs because of automation or because their bosses made stupid mistakes, workers who lose their jobs to foreign competition—which is not the workers’ fault—should be protected. And protecting workers means protecting their power.
Because it is workers, not jobs, that should be protected, it becomes clear that a progressive trade policy depends on a progressive domestic policy. For example, a national single-payer health care program (such as Medicare for All), would ensure than workers who lost their jobs for whatever reason would not lose their health care. Similarly, higher education and skills training should be free, so that, if workers lost their jobs, their children would not lose their educational opportunities and the workers themselves could be readily trained for other jobs.
Further, those other jobs need to have reasonable wages, which requires a progressive domestic policy of generating higher wages and reducing inequality. Good places to start would be with pushing the minimum wage up and up and reinforcing the opportunities for workers to form powerful unions. Also, workers need to eat while they are getting retrained, which means a progressive trade policy would provide income during the retaining period.
Still, there are times in the U.S. and elsewhere when tariffs or other forms of protection could be justified, even if they force people in general to pay higher prices for goods than they would if imports could freely enter the country. Historically, in the United States and in the United Kingdom, trade restrictions were important in allowing certain manufacturing industries to get started, and these industries generated the development of many connected activities. The long-run results seem to have been favorable for economic growth and, ultimately, wide benefits. This argument of protecting “infant industries” could apply in many developing countries, but it is of dubious validity in one of the world’s most advanced economies.
In today’s United States, there could be issues of markets being flooded with products produced abroad with very, very low wage labor. Those conditions might justify restrictions on imports, even though there would be real costs. The extreme cases would be when products are produced by prisoners, slaves, or children. Then there are situations where workers do not have the right to organize to form independent unions. Similarly, when goods are produced abroad in environmentally destructive ways, restrictions on importing those goods could be reasonable.
But, again, the issue of domestic policy arises: How can we defend, through trade barriers, the rights of workers elsewhere when many workers in this country have their rights to organize greatly restricted? Or when child labor is on the rise here? How can we demand that other countries follow good environmental policies when our own are so insufficient?
Support for a progressive trade policy will, of course, be attacked by the traditional arguments for “free trade.” Yet, these arguments lose their force when it is recognized that there is really no such thing as “free trade,” if by that term we mean the absence of actions by government that affect international commerce. Yet, innumerable actions of government have impacts on a country’s international commerce. Education policies that affect the structure of the labor force, for example, play a role in determining the kinds of goods that are produced in the country and their position in global trade. Or consider agricultural policies that, in the history of the United States, have had the impact of making this country a major exporter of agricultural commodities. Tax policies and other government programs could also provide examples. So, the issue is not whether or not to adopt government policies affecting international trade. The issue is which policies!
C. J. Polychroniou: A recent story in the New York Times pointed out that hundreds of thousands of manufacturing jobs in the U.S. are currently unfulfilled. First, is this evidence that the industrial sector has bounced back, and second, how do we explain the alleged labor shortage in manufacturing jobs?Arthur MacEwan: It is best not to take business complaints about a labor shortage too seriously. What they generally mean is that with the wages, benefits, and working conditions that they offer, they can’t get enough workers.
Traditional orthodox economics has a simple answer to such complaints: offer higher wages! And, of course, better benefits and improved working conditions. The workers will come.
But, unsurprisingly, this has not been what employers have been doing. In May of 2025, the average hourly wage for production and non-supervisory workers in manufacturing was $28.79, while for all private-sector production and nonsupervisory workers the figure was 7.6% higher, at $30.97. This was a switch from 25 years ago: In May of 2000, the hourly wage for manufacturing workers was 2% higher than the hourly wage for all private-sector workers.
Moreover, in from 2000 to 2023, while the real (i.e., inflation adjusted) median household income rose by about 15%, the wage for production and nonsupervisory workers in manufacturing, adjusted by the consumer price index, rose by only 5%. (Real household income data are not yet available since 2023.)Employers in manufacturing have accomplished this relative decline in workers’ wages by several means—automation, union busting, and shifting (or the threat of shifting) production abroad. In short, they have done just about everything they could to keep wages down. And now they have the audacity to complain about a “labor shortage.”
C. J. Polychroniou: Are there lessons to be drawn for the left from Trump’s approach to international trade?
Arthur MacEwan: There are several lessons for the left. Some of these are implicit in my answers to previous questions—for example, the importance of protecting workers and their power instead of protecting jobs, and the essential complementarity between international and domestic economic policy.
Further, there are different ways that policy can protect the interests of business—that is, the power of capital. Trump’s program and the neoliberal policies that came before him have substantial differences, but both preserve and even worsen the great economic inequalities and uneven power arrangements that dominate our society. In fighting against the depredations of the Trump era, we need to look beyond what came before to determine how to create something new.
Keep ReadingShow Less
Feeding the Profits of Genocide: Gaza and the Rise of Authoritarian Capital
To challenge the atrocity of enforced famine, we must also dismantle the economic and political order that finds in crisis not failure, but opportunity.
Jul 31, 2025
In Gaza, starvation has become strategy. According to the United Nations and humanitarian groups on the ground, two key famine conditions now exist in Gaza and are rapidly spreading. Israel’s months-long siege has blocked the flow of food, water, fuel, and medicine to a civilian population of over 2 million, resulting in catastrophic levels of hunger. Hundreds have died from malnutrition. More than a thousand more have died trying to access food.
This is not a failure of international governance. It is the result of deliberate policy choices by states and corporations. And increasingly, it is being managed not by traditional humanitarian institutions, but by private actors: contracted, credentialed, and corporatized. In March 2025, the United States and Israel launched the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF), a Delaware-registered nonprofit tasked with distributing aid in the territory. It bypasses the United Nations and replaces hundreds of aid points with a handful of militarized hubs guarded by private contractors. These sites, promoted as humanitarian lifelines, have instead become mass graveyards.
Gaza reveals the inner workings of a global system that transforms human suffering into a site of control and accumulation. At the center of this system is what I call the “Authoritarian-Financial Complex”—a fusion of militarized governance, financial extraction, and corporate logistics. The Gaza Humanitarian Foundation is not a neutral aid vehicle but the logistical machinery of this complex, enclosing humanitarian relief within a tightly controlled, securitized, and profitable framework designed to manage crisis rather than resolve it.
AFC and the Economy of Genocide
The Authoritarian-Financial Complex (AFC) represents an evolution beyond the traditional military-industrial complex. Whereas the latter focused on state militarism and arms production, the AFC extends into finance, technology, and humanitarian logistics, embedding itself in the infrastructures of everyday life. It does not simply build weapons; it builds systems that manage populations through risk, fear, and data. The complex feeds on a manufactured sense of insecurity, framing entire communities as threats to be controlled, surveilled, or contained. This expanding logic of securitization creates new markets for biometric technologies, private security forces, AI-driven monitoring, and crisis management platforms. The AFC profits not only from actual war but from the perpetual anticipation of danger, turning fear itself into a renewable source of capital.
This transformation is powerfully illustrated in Francesca Albanese’s landmark U.N. report, From Economy of Occupation to Economy of Genocide, which shows how Israel’s regime of apartheid and occupation in Palestine has become embedded in global networks of capital and control. What began as a project of territorial domination has developed into a transnational economic system fueled by arms manufacturers, surveillance firms, data brokers, and logistics corporations. Albanese makes clear that the machinery of genocide functions as a dynamic engine of profit, operating in lockstep with the broader structures of the Authoritarian-Financial Complex.
What is occurring in Gaza exemplifies how humanitarianism is being hollowed out, militarized, and turned into a platform for surveillance capitalism.
According to Albanese, genocide has become “economized.” The displacement and annihilation of Palestinians is not only political; it is materially profitable. Arms companies advertise their missiles and drones as “battle-tested” in Gaza. Data firms collect behavioral patterns and biometric information on Palestinians that is then exported globally. Real estate developers profit from newly “cleared” territory. Every phase of oppression has become monetized.
The economy of genocide outlined in Albanese’s report reveals a broader dynamic at work within global capitalism. This logic extends beyond Palestine and conventional war zones, operating as part of a larger architecture known as the Authoritarian-Financial Complex. In this configuration, private equity finances military supply chains, data analytics firms embed themselves in systems of border control, and NGOs are recast as instruments of state-aligned governance. The machinery of violence is streamlined into a process of extraction, turning organized destruction into a stable and repeatable source of profit.
Profiting from Killing and Starvation
While the world watches in horror at the deliberate weaponization of starvation in Gaza, there is an urgent need to confront the deeper system driving this policy. The spectacle of mass hunger, widely condemned as a moral catastrophe, is also the surface expression of a coordinated infrastructure that turns deprivation into a strategic and financial asset. This is the logic of the Authoritarian-Financial Complex: a system where the control of food, movement, and survival becomes a tool of governance and a source of capital. Beneath the headlines and humanitarian appeals lies a web of private contractors, military logisticians, and financial intermediaries who do not simply respond to crisis but operate through it. The Gaza Humanitarian Foundation is one such actor within this machinery, but the underlying mechanism is global, replicable, and expanding. To challenge the atrocity of enforced famine, we must also dismantle the economic and political order that finds in crisis not failure, but opportunity.
The Gaza Humanitarian Foundation, for instance, has replaced more than 400 U.N. aid sites with just four militarized hubs. These hubs are located in Israeli-declared “safe zones,” which Palestinians were forced to relocate to after sustained bombing. They lack water, sanitation, fuel, and shelter. The food provided is often nutritionally deficient, heavily processed, and requires cooking infrastructure that many no longer have access to. In other words, aid is being distributed in a form that is difficult to consume, in locations that are difficult to reach, under conditions that are deadly by design.
According to Médecins Sans Frontières, these aid hubs function as “death traps,” not relief centers. Amnesty International has said the model “risks violating international humanitarian law.” Yet the GHF remains active, even as hunger deaths increase. Why? Because in the Authoritarian-Financial Complex, aid is not about care. It is about profit and control.
Behind the GHF’s humanitarian branding lies a dense network of private actors. Its board includes figures linked to the U.S. military-industrial complex. Its security contracts are handled by firms with connections to the Pentagon. This is a business. The GHF’s operations generate value in multiple directions. Logistics firms get paid to move food. Security firms profit from guarding it. In the future, it paves the way for tech companies to “optimize” aid through distribution software and biometric ID systems. Meanwhile, states like Israel and the U.S. use GHF’s presence to deflect legal responsibility and deny the scale of the famine. The entire architecture serves both material and political functions.
This arrangement creates a powerful financial incentive to perpetuate, rather than resolve, genocide and crisis. As long as conflict zones generate demand for arms, logistics, surveillance, and privatized aid, the firms involved remain profitable. Humanitarian catastrophe becomes not an emergency to be addressed, but a market to be maintained. The longer the siege continues, the more contracts are awarded, the more data is harvested, and the more donor capital flows into securitized "relief" operations. In such a model, peace is not just inconvenient—it is unprofitable. The system thrives precisely because the suffering never ends.
And there is precedent. The AFC thrives in crisis zones. In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, private security firms like Blackwater moved in faster than the Federal Emergency Management Agency. In Iraq and Afghanistan, contractors like Halliburton and DynCorp profited both from the country’s destruction and its reconstruction. In border zones, companies build walls, run detention centers, and develop “smart” migration tracking systems. What Gaza reveals is that this model now applies not just to post-war contexts but to genocide itself.
What is occurring in Gaza exemplifies how humanitarianism is being hollowed out, militarized, and turned into a platform for surveillance capitalism. It represents the collapse of aid into a venture-backed economy of control.
Conclusion
The siege of Gaza, and the starvation it has produced, should compel us to ask a deeper question: What kind of global system allows mass death to be treated as a logistical problem to be outsourced and monetized?
In a functioning international order, the deliberate starvation of a civilian population would trigger universal condemnation, sanctions, and urgent intervention. Instead, we have subcontracted survival to a nonprofit with ties to defense contractors. Instead of upholding international law, we are beta-testing a new model for aid distribution that removes accountability and embeds profit into suffering.
This is the essence of the Authoritarian-Financial Complex. It is a system that no longer hides its violence. It administers it through platforms and contracts. It trades in crisis. It grows through enclosure. It repackages domination as delivery and presents militarized deprivation as humanitarian innovation.
This is the war not just on Gaza but on the idea that human life has value beyond capital.
The AFC connects Wall Street to war zones, hedge funds to hunger, and data brokers to refugee camps. In its world, Gaza is not a moral crisis. It is a scalable opportunity.
To break this system, we must do more than call for a cease-fire. We must demand the abolition of the GHF and all privatized aid regimes that serve siege rather than relief. We must insist on accountability for the corporations profiting from destruction and deprivation. We must rebuild international humanitarianism as a space of solidarity, not outsourcing.
Above all, we must understand that genocide is no longer an act of the state alone. It is a business. And in that business, silence is complicity.
Gaza is not only a test of conscience. It is a mirror held up to a world where profit reigns above life. If we fail to dismantle the Authoritarian-Financial Complex now, it will define the next century of planetary crisis—with each famine, each war, and each displacement event monetized, securitized, and outsourced.
This is the war not just on Gaza but on the idea that human life has value beyond capital. We must name it. And we must end it.
Keep ReadingShow Less
Landlord Doublespeak and the Rise of the 'Housing Provider'
What drives the preference of landlords to call themselves “housing providers” is a desire to euphemize the landlord-tenant relationship and to obscure some of its basic and most important features.
Jul 30, 2025
Landlords want to be called “housing providers.” Industry organizations in California, Washington, Rhode Island, and elsewhere are proudly claiming the label. Equal to this craving to be called “housing providers,” it seems, is the wish among landlords to no longer be called landlords. The term is antiquated, they say, and has a negative stigma that doesn’t reflect reality. The industry is not particularly secretive about these desires or the reasons behind them, which have to do with image and narrative.
The dictionary definition of landlord is precise enough, however, and, in fact, couldn’t be plainer: “The owner of property (such as land, houses, or apartments) that is leased or rented to another,” according to Merriam-Webster.com. The definition identifies the essential feature of any residential landlord—that they engage in a financial transaction to lease living space. This seems straightforward enough and noncontroversial. The motivation of the industry is thus not related to any mismatch between our common understanding of the word and its most essential attribute.
Instead, what drives the preference of landlords to call themselves “housing providers” is a type of Orwellian doublespeak intended to euphemize the landlord-tenant relationship and to obscure some of its basic and most important features. What does the phrase obscure? For one, it elides the basic extractive nature of landlording, the fact that landlords expect, in fact, rely upon the relationship to be monetarily profitable to them. This is the critical fact of landlording, that it is done in the main to make a profit.
Granted there are some instances of landlords renting to family members or others without expectations of profit, but these exceptions are merely that—exceptions. The English language routinely makes distinctions between services rendered for a fee and those provided on other bases. The difference between “housing provider” and landlord is the difference between a date and a paid escort or sex worker, it is the difference between the volunteer and the mercenary, between a financial gift and an interest-bearing loan. The English language is not unique in containing words that make clear the monetary exchange and profit that define some relationships. We use these words because the information they contain is consequential.
If the landlord industry truly wants to do something to burnish its public image, it might consider publicly rejecting or sanctioning members of its community who hiked rents in Los Angeles County by 20% in the aftermath of the fires of January 2025.
This attempt to obscure the profit motive in landlording is all the more problematic because those who would call themselves “housing providers” in one breath, will, in the next, argue against rent stabilization, tenant protections, and other regulations on the basis that these policies make their business unprofitable, or less profitable than they would prefer. This is wanting it both ways—attempting to hide the profit motive while simultaneously insisting on it.
“Housing provider” is also meant to conceal the power dynamics of the landlord-tenant relationship, one in which landlords hold the privileges associated with property ownership, the ability to define the terms of acceptable behavior and limits of property use available to tenants, and the ultimate power of eviction. Moreover, at a time when corporate landlords are extending their reach into the market, and we see the spread of price-fixing algorithms to maximize rents and profit, AI-driven tenant screening algorithms to perform background checks, and greater concentration and market power at the industry scale, the insistence on the phrase “housing provider” is an obvious attempt at happy-faced distraction.
Just as important as the attempt to disguise profit motive and landlord power is the effort to dodge whatever negative connotations attach to the term landlord. “Housing provider” is meant to avoid images of rapaciousness and greed, or to conjure images of benevolence and even charity, or to do both. The use of the phrase is, in other words, an attempt, acknowledged by the industry, to control a narrative. As such it is a political act, an effort to persuade and to establish a particular understanding of who landlords are and what they do, all in the service of influencing public debate and public policy. This is not to argue that tenants don’t also try to influence the public narrative; of course they do. It is merely to note that this phrase, “housing provider,” is a calculated bid to construct meaning in a highly contested policy area and it needs to be recognized as such. Those who choose to adopt the phrase choose to adopt the narrative.
If the landlord industry truly wants to do something to burnish its public image, it might consider publicly rejecting or sanctioning members of its community who hiked rents in Los Angeles County by 20% in the aftermath of the fires of January 2025. It might help to police property owners who evicted tenants during the pandemic in violation of federal and local laws. It might take action to address sexual harassment of low-income women by landlords, or address any of a number of discriminatory or exploitative practices that haunt the industry. Those wishing to hide behind the “housing provider” label will argue that not all landlords are bad, which is of course true. They will say only a portion of landlords engage in the practices that give landlord its stigma. But, if the only response by the industry is to stop using the word landlord, it betrays a self-serving concern that does little to improve negative public perceptions and, in fact, largely confirms them.
We don’t call Exxon an “oil provider,” nor do we call GM an “automobile provider.” We don’t even call the corner mom-and-pop store a “grocery provider.” There is no reason to accept the kind of politically motivated doublespeak behind the rise of “housing provider.”
Keep ReadingShow Less
Most Popular