By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
Western Societies Are Growing More
Equal, Not Less
Recent work on U.S.
income distribution by the tax economists Gerald Auten and David Splinter shows
that correcting for underreported income at the bottom, income shifted into
tax-deferred retirement accounts, and welfare transfers flattens the trend dramatically:
in the United States, the top one percent’s share of after-tax income is only
slightly higher today than it was in 1960, nowhere near the doubling implied by
estimates presented by Piketty and his co-authors. Europe’s picture is flatter
still, thanks to heavier redistribution and less winner-take-all compensation
at the top of the corporate ladder.
A Rising Tide
Spend a few minutes
browsing political commentary or scrolling social media and you will discover a
seemingly settled truth: inequality in the West is soaring, the middle class is
being hollowed out, and democracies stand on the brink of oligarchy. The idea
is seductive because it fits everyday anxieties in many Western
countries—housing has grown increasingly unaffordable, billionaire wealth
mushrooms unfathomably, and the pandemic exposed yawning gaps in social safety
nets. Yet the most influential claims about inequality rest on selective
readings of history and partial measurements of living standards. When the full
balance sheet of modern economies is tallied—including taxes, transfers,
pension entitlements, homeownership, and the fact that people move through
income brackets across their lives—the story looks markedly different. Western
societies are not nearly as unequal as many believe them to be.
This is not a call
for complacency. Concentrated economic power can distort markets and politics;
pockets of deep poverty persist in rich countries; and in the United States,
the top of the distribution has indeed sprinted ahead of the rest. But focusing
only on the eye-catching fortunes of tech founders or hedge-fund managers
obscures a quieter, broader transformation: households across the income
spectrum now own capital on a scale unimaginable to earlier generations, and
basic measures of well-being in Western societies—including life expectancy,
educational attainment, and consumption possibilities—have improved for nearly
everyone.
Getting the facts
right matters because bad diagnosis breeds bad prescriptions. If governments
assume that capitalism is inexorably recreating the disparities of the Gilded
Age, they will reach for wealth confiscations, price controls, or ever-larger
public sectors funded by fragile tax bases. If, instead, the evidence shows
that free-market economies have enriched middle classes by expanding asset
ownership, that entrepreneurs’ fortunes are associated with advances shared
with the broader public, and that much of the post-1980 rise in recorded
inequality reflects methodological quirks, then a different agenda follows:
states should encourage ambition, protect competition, widen access to
wealth-building, and ensure that public services complement—not smother—private
prosperity. In short, before treating inequality as an existential crisis, it
is worth double-checking the thermometer.
It is not only
possible, but valuable, to marry open and dynamic market economies to the sense
of shared purpose and achievement brought by tolerable degrees of inequality.
Moreover, less inequality is likely to make economies work better by increasing
the ability of the entire population to participate, on more equal terms. An
important condition for this, in turn, is that politics not be unduly beholden
to wealth. Managing such a combination of market dynamism with effective
redistribution is one of the defining political challenges of our era. It will
take purposive action by states and greater co-operation among them, notably on
taxation. Yet if even the staff of the IMF is analyzing this once
largely taboo topic, its hour has surely come.
The Tale of Runaway Inequality
The prevailing
narrative about inequality—popularized by the economist Thomas Piketty in his
bestselling 2014 book, Capital in the Twenty-First Century—depicts
a U-shaped curve. In this view, the extreme concentration of income and wealth
among a narrow elite in the early twentieth century was broken only by the
world wars and taxes on capital. The turn toward market liberalization around
1980 unleashed a second wave of plutocracy. Charts of top-income shares appear
to confirm the story: since 1980, the top one percent’s slice of pretax income
has surged, especially in the United States and the United Kingdom. Add the
proliferation of celebrity billionaires, the stagnation of median wages, and
the eruption of high-profile corporate scandals, and the picture seems
complete.
Three kinds of
evidence underpin this interpretation. First are tax-return data that track
pretax market income: salaries, dividends, and realized capital gains. These
show widening gaps because high earners captured disproportionate gains from
globalization and digital technology. Second are surveys of household wealth
that measure who owns stocks and real estate; when asset prices boom, wealthy
portfolios balloon. Third are particular statistics that make headlines—the
many CEOs paid hundreds of times more than average workers, or the eight men
who together are richer than half the world—and feed public outrage.
But such evidence has
limits. Starting the clock in 1980 is rhetorically convenient because
inequality was then unusually low, following decades of steep taxation and
stringent regulation that had dampened entrepreneurship and curtailed many
ambitious career paths. Today’s levels, although higher than those of the late
1970s, are far below those of the pre–World War II era when taxes were much
lower than they are today. In addition, most estimates of income inequality
have actually plateaued in the last two decades. Likewise, focusing on pretax
income ignores the consequences of progressive taxation and, crucially, the
vast public spending on health care, education, and pensions that
disproportionately benefits lower- and middle-income households. Finally,
wealth surveys often exclude mandatory pension assets and undercount
owner-occupied housing—the two largest stores of middle-class wealth.
Recent work on U.S.
income distribution by the tax economists Gerald Auten and David Splinter shows
that correcting for underreported income at the bottom, income shifted into
tax-deferred retirement accounts, and welfare transfers flattens the trend dramatically:
in the United States, the top one percent’s share of after-tax income is only
slightly higher today than it was in 1960, nowhere near the doubling implied by
estimates presented by Piketty and his co-authors. Europe’s picture is flatter
still, thanks to heavier redistribution and less winner-take-all compensation
at the top of the corporate ladder.
assets. That shift
parallels mass homeownership: in most Western countries, 60 to 70 percent of
households now own the roof over their heads—an equity stake unavailable to
their great-grandparents. Most workers hold pension claims in mutual funds or
index funds, granting them the high returns of stock markets at low risk—what
amounts to financial democratization.
Second, wealth
concentration has fallen—not risen—over the past century. In Europe, the top
one percent now owns barely a third of the share it held in 1910, that is,
right before the beginning of the transformative era of world wars,
democratization, and the growth of governmental capacity, and since the 1970s
that share has been essentially flat, even as real wealth—that is, wealth
adjusted for inflation—has tripled with rising asset prices. The United States
shows a clearer uptick beginning in the 1970s, most visible among the
spectacular fortunes of tech and finance titans, whose gains have outpaced even
the impressive wealth growth of the middle class. Yet U.S. concentration
remains closer to its 1960 level than to its pre-1914 peak. The dominant
quantitative fact of the century, therefore, is not a new Gilded Age but a
dramatic wealth equalization propelled by mass asset ownership.
The
Wealth Explosion
The
Wealth Democratization
Third, the fact that
people move through different income brackets over the course of their lives
should temper typical measures of inequality. So, too, should the effects of
welfare payments. Annual snapshots lump graduate students with retirees living off
savings, making income and wealth gaps appear wider than lifetime consumption
gaps. When studies in different countries instead follow individuals over time,
they typically find that within only a few years, half the households in the
bottom income decile have climbed to higher levels. Many top-decile households
can drop to lower rungs of the ladder after business or investment setbacks.
Government welfare programs further compress differences. In Sweden, when
public pension entitlements are capitalized and added to assessments of
personal wealth, this alone cuts the measured wealth inequality—known as the
Gini coefficient—by almost half. In the United States, the market’s
redistributive role is smaller, but when Social Security, Medicare, and
employer-provided health insurance are treated as in-kind income, median
households fare far better than raw wage data suggest.
These facts undermine
the image of an inexorably widening chasm between a plutocratic elite and the
rest. Yes, superstar entrepreneurs have amassed fortunes measured in tens of
billions. But that outcome signals success, not failure: they furnished goods
and services that millions freely bought. Their booming companies also supply
jobs, higher wage earnings, and substantial tax revenue—directly through
profits and payrolls and indirectly by raising the broader tax base. Over the
past four decades, life expectancy in advanced economies (including in the
United States despite the much-noted increase in “deaths of despair”) rose
roughly six years, high school completion became nearly universal, and personal
computers once reserved for elites went mainstream.
Those who typically
bemoan the rise of inequality don’t correctly weigh the size and division of
the pie. Rising real incomes and higher asset values are preconditions for mass
prosperity and for a well-funded public sector. Even advocates of government intervention
should champion efficient growth: every percentage point of GDP adds billions
to tax revenue. The West’s most durable path to fairness, then, is to scale up
the channels through which ordinary households acquire assets—including
affordable housing supply, portable retirement accounts, and low-fee index
funds—and to keep markets open so new firms can challenge incumbents.
That perspective
should also moderate calls for annual taxes on the stock of net wealth, which
have recently been proposed by some politicians and researchers, and have even
been discussed officially at G-20 and UN meetings. These so-called wealth taxes
are problematic because they hit illiquid assets, forcing entrepreneurs or
farmers to borrow or liquidate. Scandinavian experience of such taxes shows
that they produce meager revenues, come with high administrative costs, and
encourage capital flight. If capital is to be taxed, a more efficient and
equitable way is to tax capital income—such as dividends, realized gains, and
corporate profits.
Diagnosing Calamity
Misreading inequality
courts several risks. It diverts energy from the real challenges to Western
economies, which include lax productivity growth, aging populations, and the
imperatives of climate adaptation. These problems will strain public budgets. But
excessive state-centrism and confiscatory wealth taxes impede capital formation
and make financing those tasks harder, not easier. Misunderstanding inequality
also breeds regressivity: taxing housing wealth indiscriminately can hit
asset-rich but cash-poor retirees; taxing private firms can force sales to
multinational giants with cheaper credit. And it corrodes trust: when citizens
hear that capitalism benefits only the elite—even as their own living standards
rise—they may grow cynical about official statistics and susceptible to
populist cures worse than the disease.
A more accurate
reading of the data supports a balanced agenda. To be clear, excessive wealth
concentration poses risks—most notably to political integrity. Transparent
rules for campaign financing and party contributions are essential to minimize
the undue influence of money. Core welfare services, such as education and
health care, should not become overly dependent on private funding, otherwise
they would tie the quality of care to personal wealth—and in the process deepen
inequality. The solution is not to curb wealth itself but to safeguard the
integrity of political institutions and ensure equitable access to public
goods.
States should
celebrate entrepreneurial success and foster competition by reducing regulatory
burdens—especially those that disproportionately affect smaller and younger
firms. Taxation on labor income should be modest enough to incentivize hard
work and also allow for the accumulation of new wealth, while capital taxation
should target income rather than wealth or inheritances. Public investment
should focus on building the capabilities that let households become
stakeholders—education, infrastructure, and a rules-based climate that rewards
risk-taking. Such an agenda accepts that inequality can coexist with, and even
flow from, broad prosperity. Frustration with privilege should be channeled
into reforms that expand opportunity rather than cap success.
This agenda advances
neither laissez-faire complacency nor egalitarian maximalism. It is an
acknowledgment that the West’s most remarkable achievement is not the fortune
of a Jeff Bezos or Bernard Arnault but the mundane riches enjoyed by millions
whose grandparents lived without antibiotics, central heating, or college
degrees. Policymakers would do well to remember that progress before they
diagnose calamity—and nurture the conditions that make it possible: secure
property rights, open markets, and an efficient public sector powered by the
very economic growth its advocates sometimes disparage.
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