Former
president of CALIF SERVICE UNION sez UBI is
part of a twenty-first-century
vision for the labor movement. Is his
faith misguided? We've got welfare, right?
We've got food stamps. We've got a healthcare
system.....oh, we don't?
Five years ago, dropping the
abbreviation UBI
in conversation would be more likely to earn you a
puzzled glance than a knowing nod. But these days,
universal basic income—a policy often glossed as “paying
people for being alive”—is gaining
popularity both in the United States and abroad.
UBI, where everyone gets a regular check from the
government regardless of what else they’re doing
or how they spend it, is an old idea. But it has
seen renewed interest since the 2008 financial
crash: as millions of people lost their jobs and
wondered whether they’d find new ones, some also
began to wonder whether they needed to work at
all.
Yeah man, shoot the check
to us.
UBI was recently endorsed by
the Movement for Black Lives as part of a
reparations program, while Canada’s Leap Manifesto
calls for consideration of UBI on the grounds of
environmental sustainability. Jeremy Corbyn said
last September that the Labour Party would
investigate the prospects for basic income in the
UK, and experiments are on the agenda in Scotland,
backed by the left-wing SNP. In France, Benoît
Hamon recently won the Socialist Party
presidential nomination on a platform that
included a basic income.
Growing public discussion has
been accompanied by a small but significant number
of experimental programs, mostly in Europe.
Starting this year, about 250 people in Utrecht
will receive €960 each month (about $1,030) from
the government, while a Finnish experiment will
pay between five and ten thousand people €550
(about $600) monthly. Neither amount is enough to
live on, really, but they aren’t negligible
either.
The United States is home to
the closest thing to a basic income program
existing in the world today: the Alaska Permanent
Fund. Since 1982, the fund has paid every Alaskan
resident anywhere from a few hundred to $2,000
annually out of its oil revenues. But the most
prominent supporters of UBI in the United States
today are technocapitalists like Peter Thiel and
Marc Andreessen, and with the exception of Alaska,
basic income experiments are being implemented not
by the state but the private sector. Most notably,
the seed accelerator Y Combinator is starting a
basic income pilot program in Oakland this year,
proposing to pay a hundred families between $1,000
and $2,000 each month, “no strings attached.”
It’s often noted that Milton
Friedman as well as Martin Luther King, Jr.
supported basic income—and the new generation of
advocates is similarly eclectic, running the gamut
from Trump-supporting venture capitalists like
Thiel to “fully automated luxury communists” like
Peter Frase. There are, in short, many different
reasons for supporting UBI—and just as many
versions of what it could be.
One version functions as a kind
of noblesse oblige—a handout to the unfortunates
being made obsolete by robots smarter and more
efficient than they are. Another version aspires
to egalitarian universalism and challenges the
legitimacy of privately accumulated wealth.
There’s a version that sees UBI as the spark for a
generation of entrepreneurs, and another that
simply attempts to stave off a revolt of the
precarious masses.
Basic income is therefore often
posited as a post-ideological solution suited to a
new era of politics: the odd confluence of
interest from the left and right tends to be read
as a sign that political positions should be
eschewed in favor of rational compromise. But
UBI’s cross-ideological appeal is the bug, not the
feature. Because basic income is politically
ambiguous, it also has the potential to act as a
Trojan horse for the left or right: left critics
fret that it will serve as a vehicle for
dissolving the remains of the welfare state, while
proponents herald it as the “capitalist road to
communism.” The version of basic income we get
will depend, more than policies with a clearer
ideological valence, on the political forces that
shape it.
Which is why the prospect of
pushing for basic income
in the United States right now—when the right
controls everything—should be cause for alarm:
UBI’s supporters on the left should proceed with
caution.
But that doesn’t mean basic
income is a lost cause. To the contrary,
capitalism’s inability to provide a means of
making a decent living for the over 7 billion
people currently alive is one of its most glaring
defects—and one of the most significant
opportunities for the left to offer an
alternative. A universal basic income, though not
the only answer, might point us in the right
direction.
Raising the
floor
Unsurprisingly, labor unions
have been slow to get on board with a policy that
suggests jobs may not be necessary. But as
interest grows, UBI has picked up at least one
convert from the labor movement: Andy Stern, the
former head of the SEIU, whose 2016 book,Raising
the Floor,explains
why basic income is the way to “invent a better
future.”
Stern has long positioned
himself as a visionary ready to lead the labor
movement out of stagnant traditionalism toward new
horizons. Within the labor movement, though, he’s
a controversial figure criticized for being too
friendly with the boss. He’s worked with Walmart
on healthcare reform and with Paul Ryan on fiscal
responsibility; in a recent interview withVox,
he described the labor movement as having a
“boutique role” in representing employees. It was
only a matter of time before he made powerful
friends in the tech world.
Upon leaving SEIU in 2010,
Stern describes catching the tech bug. He switches
from a PC to a Mac and starts Googling; in
industry rags likeTechCrunchand
the fringe-futurist siteSingularity
Hub, he reads about robot financial
advisors, robot journalists, robot bartenders,
robot hotel cleaners, robot guards, and of course,
sex robots. In one jaw-dropping aside, he compares
the number of people playing the online game
“Mists of Pandaria” to the ranks of organized
labor: “It had taken the entire American labor
movement decades to achieve that much member
power.” What a time to be alive! And yet—what will
happen to the 47 percent of workers whose jobs are
purportedly at risk of automation? Stern, whose
last book aimed to make America a “country that
works,” began to worry about the coming “jobless
future.” He doesn’t mean there will be literally
no jobs, of course—just not enough.
To figure out what to do, he
talks to a lot of people. Stern talks to the
investment banker Steven Berkenfeld—an executive
at Lehman Brothers at the time of the 2008 crash,
whose qualification to assess the future is
questionable at best—who declares that “to put
people over profits in this country is almost
un-American.” He talks to Carl Camden, the CEO of
Kelly Services, the original temp agency—or, as
Stern euphemizes, the company that “first saw the
business potential in temporary employment.” (The
company became famous for calling its temp
secretaries “Kelly Girls”; one 1971 ad proclaimed
that a Kelly Girl “Never takes a vacation or
holiday. Never asks for a raise. Never costs you a
dime for slack time.” And of course, “Never fails
to please.”) He talks to David Cote, the CEO of
Honeywell International, who says that jobs are
just “going to come”—they always have before.
Stern also talks to a few labor
organizers, like Saket Soni of the National
Guestworker Alliance and Ai-jen Poo of the
National Domestic Workers Alliance, to understand
the “dark side of the gig economy”—the side
represented by day laborers sleeping rough in New
Orleans after Hurricane Katrina and being paid a
fraction of the money allocated to construction
contractors. To understand growing economic
inequality, he reads Thomas Piketty’sCapital
in the Twenty-First Century,sort
of. (“Like most of the people who purchased the
book, I read very little of it,” he admits.) He
hires a woman from Kenya to transcribe an
interview, for which he’s billed $4.67, and uses
TaskRabbit to dismantle and ship his bike across
the country, for which he pays $80 plus shipping.
He eventually comes to the conclusion that the
jobs that will remain after the robots come will
be the best and the worst—Google programmers and
Uber drivers. The latter will be so bad—so
insecure and so poorly paid—that the swelling
ranks of people forced to resort to them will need
something else to get by. That’s where basic
income comes in: as the backstop of the gig
economy.
A utopia for
realists
The Dutch journalist and basic
income advocate Rutger Bregman’s case for UBI,
meanwhile, is pitched not as a way to stave off a
still grimmer future, but as our best shot at
utopia. Advances in science, technology, and
medicine mean that the prospects for human
thriving are better than ever—and yet political
ambitions have faded into technocratic tweaks,
dreams of the good life answered with waves of
consumer junk. Is this really the best we can do?
Why is it that when just about anything seems
technically possible, we seem unable to imagine
anything genuinely inspiring? For Bregman, basic
income represents the way to true human
fulfillment—the post-work utopia that we need and
that we can, in fact, achieve. It is a utopia for
realists.
This utopia—to not have to work
so much or so hard; to pass time in leisure rather
than labor; to do what one wants rather than what
one’s told—is perhaps the oldest of all. The
medieval Land of Plenty was, in the words of one
poet, where “money has been exchanged for the good
life,” and “he who sleeps the longest earns the
most.” And for more than a century, it’s seemed
within reach. Karl Marx, Benjamin Franklin, John
Stuart Mill, Oscar Wilde, and John Maynard Keynes
all looked at soaring productivity with the
certainty that it would soon be high enough to
satisfy people’s needs and wants with just a few
hours of work a week. In the 1960s, with
automation on the rise, it seemed so imminent that
the question wasn’t whether people would have more
leisure time—it was what they would do with it.
Would we get bored? Waste all our time in front of
the TV? Lose our purpose in life?
Such worries now seem
charmingly naive. “We aren’t bored to death,”
Bregman warns, “we’re working ourselves to death.”
But it’s not because the likes of Keynes and Mill
were wrong—they just didn’t account for politics.
Instead of increasing leisure for working people,
productivity gains went into growing profits for
owners of capital. The 2008 financial crash and
subsequent recession only made things worse. These
days, instead of relaxing into a life of leisure,
most people are working more in a desperate
attempt to cling to their jobs, or working less
than they need to support themselves.
Work is bad enough on its own.
But Bregman argues convincingly that working less
could also help solve any number of other
problems—stress, climate change, disasters,
unemployment, wealth inequality. In fact,
increased leisure time is as close to a silver
bullet as they come: “is there anything that
working less doesnotsolve?”
Bregman asks. Instead of making people work to
earn a living, then, why not just give them
money—a universal basic income? Experiments
consistently show that having adequate income
makes you happier, healthier, and even smarter.
Giving poor people money—whether it’s to homeless
men in London or quarry workers in Nairobi—turns
out to be good for everyone. It reduces crime,
child mortality, malnutrition, and teen pregnancy,
and increases gender equality, educational
outcomes, and economic growth.
But while Bregman is utopian,
he isn’t in thrall to techno-futurists: he argues
that to understand automation and its effects,
we’d do better to study history than speculate
about the future. After all, the robots have been
coming for decades. The current surge of interest
in basic income, too, has historical precedent:
there was a wave of interest in the 1930s, and a
larger swell in the late 1960s and early ’70s; in
1969 Richard Nixon even proposed a bill (though it
was never passed) for a form of basic income he
called “negative income tax.”
The 1970s also saw a smattering
of projects putting basic income into action, with
five trials occurring in North America. The most
significant, a five-year federally-funded
experiment with basic income in the town of
Dauphin, Canada, in the 1970s was an unexpected
success across the board. When people were
guaranteed an income above the poverty line
(around $19,000 for a family of four), they stayed
in school longer and spent more time with their
families, while hospitalizations, domestic
violence, and mental health complaints declined.
In four experimental programs across the United
States around the same time, meanwhile, people
consistently worked fewer paid hours and put most
of their spare time into parenting, independent
artistic pursuits, and education. It turns out
that people aren’t indolent when they aren’t
forced to work (though would it be such a terrible
thing if they were?)—they just do the kinds of
work they actually want to do.
Bregman’s case for UBI is
powerful, animated by humanist principles and
bolstered by pragmatic evidence. It’s so
convincing, in fact, that one’s left wondering
only why, if basic income is such an obvious good,
it doesn’t already exist. The problem isn’t that
basic income doesn’t sound good enough—it’s that
it sounds too good to be true. This, in fact, is
one of basic income’s biggest political
challenges: getting people to take it seriously.
Politicians tend to be wary of endorsing such a
seemingly pie-in-the-sky idea. A much discussed
referendum in Switzerland last summer proposed a
basic income at a significantly higher
baseline—around €2,300—but resulted in a
resounding defeat, with 77 percent of voters
rejecting the plan. But none of the major national
parties backed the initiative, which was
understood more as a publicity tool for UBI than
an actual campaign.
The programs of the 1970s, too,
foundered on the shoals of politics. When a
conservative government came to power in Canada in
1979, it scrapped the basic income experiment
before it had even analyzed the results. In the
United States, interest in UBI twisted into
suspicion of welfare recipients under the rise of
the New Right in the late 1970s. Though basic
income went nowhere in the end, the robots stayed.
And we’re still living with what happens when
automation isn’t accompanied by a political
response: stagnant wages, a crumbling middle
class, declining union power, rising inequality.
Yet it’s curious that UBI
doesn’t today seem to suffer from the same
political challenges as those described by Michał
Kalecki in his classic 1943 essay “Political
Aspects of Full Employment.” Kalecki argues that
the challenges to achieving full employment are
not economic but political: if people can make a
living without taking whatever job they’re
offered, at whatever pay, the power that comes
with the ability to fire—the most significant
power a boss has—diminishes sharply. Basic income
would do the same by virtue of providing a
dependable source of income; thus its labor-left
advocates point out that it would essentially act
as a permanent strike fund.
Given that, why do bosses—at
least the ones in Silicon Valley—seem to like UBI
so much? Some of their enthusiasm may simply be
well-meaning naiveté: as Sam Altman of Y
Combinator says, “50 years from now, I think it
will seem ridiculous that we used fear of not
being able to eat as a way to motivate people”—as
if this hasn’t been one of the defining features
of capitalism all along. Presumably freedom from
the need to earn a living will unleash people’s
entrepreneurial spirit, their inner
innovator—rather than simply give us the chance to
fish, hunt, and criticize just as we please. The
view of UBI as the foundation of the gig economy,
meanwhile, is a tacit acknowledgement that
capitalism can’t pay its full costs—a transfer of
responsibility for a living wage from private
employers to the public. Then there’s an even
worse case for UBI as pressure outlet: Stern
argues that basic income supporters would do well
to convince the anxious rich that it’s their best
bet to avoid “the guillotine” amidst growing
inequality and desperation.
But you don’t need to be
Robespierre to be suspicious of a proposal that
explicitly announces its intent to protect the
rich from working-class rage—particularly when one
of the major questions of UBI is where the free
money will come from. Stern cautions UBI
supporters against advocating a “soak the rich”
tax on political grounds: the broad coalition that
UBI requires will be impossible if the rich are
against it from the start. (Alas, this is already
the metric for most policies.) Instead, he
proposes to fund UBI by cashing out major welfare
programs (food stamps, housing assistance, the
earned income tax credit) and charging a
value-added tax on consumer goods; more
tentatively, he considers a wealth tax, a
financial transaction tax, and cuts to military
spending. But funding a basic income by
cannibalizing existing welfare programs and
imposing regressive consumption taxes perversely
places the burden of subsidizing low wages on the
poor and working-class people making them in the
first place.
That this is a proposal put
forth by a former labor leader is a measure of the
left’s weakness. And indeed, Stern’s view of
labor’s political prospects is remarkably dim. In
fact, UBI is explicitly posed as a solution to the
problem of declining union power: “It was time for
me to look beyond unions for answers,” Stern
declares in the first thirty pages. Instead, he
proposes a Basic Income Party that could run
candidates in every Congressional district and
threaten a tax strike—the weapon of the
wealthy—until Congress agrees to vote on a basic
income package. It’s obviously a non-starter. But
it reveals the limits of Stern-style unionism:
start out collaborating with Walmart on
healthcare, and soon you’ll hope only for the
dwindling state to throw a few bucks at the
reserve army of Uber drivers tasked with ferrying
the rich from one gentrified enclave to the next.
Instead of fighting off the dystopian future,
settle into the interregnum of the present, with
all its morbid symptoms. But as the writer Ben
Tarnoff has pointed out, the places where
technological development hasn’t produced a
dystopian, jobless future (like Sweden) don’t just
have technology, they also have strong unions and
a robust welfare state. The kind of starkly
unequal society that Stern and other UBI futurists
fear wouldn’t just come about because the robots
arrived—it would come about because only a few
people owned them.
Recognizing this, Bregman
explicitly advocates “massive redistribution” of
money, time, and robots—that is, of income, work,
and the means of production. All wealth is
socially produced, he argues, and so it should be
shared accordingly. It’s not so much that this
time is different—it’s that we have the chance to
make it so. Though he stops short of inciting us
to seize the robots outright, he advocates taxes
on the wealthy and on financial transactions as a
means to both fund basic income and disincentivize
certain activities—like banking—that make money
“without creating anything of value.”
Though Bregman’s version of UBI
is far more appealing on the merits, his political
program is disappointing. Ideas change the world,
Bregman declares, and UBI is such an obviously
good idea that we just need to spread the word.
The last line of the book belongs to Keynes, the
book’s implicit hero, who famously said of ideas,
“indeed, the world is ruled by little else.” But
of course, it’s ruled by many other things—money
and power chief among them. The fifteen-hour work
week Keynes predicted didn’t come to pass because
the idea alone wasn’t enough. More importantly,
Keynes was talking about ideology rather than
ideas per se, about the systems of thought that
underpin our assumptions whether or not we know
it, not just clever notions.
And the problem with basic
income is that it tends to be read as an idea
without an ideology. Bregman describes the pro-UBI
movement in Europe as grassroots and
“cross-ideological” in character. At the local
level where most programs are proposed, the debate
is largely pragmatic. The program in Utrecht, for
example, is known as “Weten Wat Werkt” or “Knowing
What Works,” in acknowledgment that many see the
current welfare system—which even in Europe has
ceded more and more ground to workfare—as
unaffordable and dysfunctional. But of course,
what counts as pragmatic depends on the existing
balance of political power. Even Bregman’s own
position, though solidly on the left, shifts
between advocating for UBI as what the Belgian
philosopher Philippe Van Parijs described as the
“capitalist road to communism” and the capitalist
road to . . . saving capitalism from itself.
Stern’s post-ideological stance
is even more blatant: at one point he imagines an
exchange between the libertarian political thinker
Charles Murray, whose 1997 bookThe
Bell Curvefamously
argued for racial differences in intelligence
based on genetics, and Martin Luther King, Jr. He
argues that their disagreements about the
relationship of basic income to the role of the
state in society are simply diversions from their
shared idea of giving people money. But these
disagreements get to the heart of the matter. The
debate about basic income is about the obligations
we have to one another, the origins of property,
the ends of human life, the shape of our society.
And when these broader visions are translated into
policy, they don’t simply suggest a shared plan to
give people money—they offer drastically different
accounts of how much money people should get,
where it should come from, and who should get it.
The leftist-futurist version of
basic income is often described as a non-reformist
reform, per Van Parijs’s quip: a goal that’s
achievable within capitalism but that has the
potential to change the conditions of capitalism
enough to lead beyond it. Basic income is the
fully automated monorail to luxury communism,
where we all own the robots and everyone gets what
they need. This UBI isn’t a backstop for bad jobs,
but the material condition for human fulfillment.
But not just any income will do: for it to be a
genuine step toward a post-work society, it has to
be genuinely universal and unconditional, provide
enough income to actually live on, and supplement
rather than replace the welfare state. This UBI is
the one that draws from the Marxist feminists who
pointed out the unwaged labor of social
reproduction in the 1970s, the working-class women
of color who fought for the rights of welfare
recipients in the 1960s, and the architects of the
Freedom Budget who attempted to translate the
gains of the civil rights movement into a program
for economic justice. They wanted not just a basic
income but a sufficient one—one adequate not
merely to survive, but to live a decent life, and
maybe even a good one.
The right-wing version of basic
income, by contrast, wherein paltry lumps of cash
replace public services and goods, is a UBI not
worth having. This version of basic income is a
mechanism to streamline—a more accurate word might
be “gut”—the welfare state in the name of
libertarian ideas of freedom. People know what
they need better than the state does, the argument
goes; how people will be able to afford healthcare
on $12,000 a year is less often addressed.
Who exactly should get a basic
income is another question. It’s sometimes called
a “citizen’s dividend,” explicitly limiting
recipients by nationality. More generally the
“universal” is aspirational: basic income programs
have only seriously been proposed at the national
or local levels. So, as with other welfare
programs, debates over basic income will
undoubtedly be bound up with questions about
nationality and migration. In the European
context, we should be wary of the deployment of
basic income to solidify Fortress Europe as the
refugee crisis intensifies. In the debates over
the Swiss program, for example, Luzi Stamm, a
member of parliament for the right-wing Swiss
People’s Party, said he could imagine supporting
UBI—but only for the Swiss. “Theoretically, if
Switzerland were an island, the answer is yes,” he
said at the time. “But with open borders, it’s a
total impossibility, especially for Switzerland,
with a high living standard.”
In the United States,
meanwhile, the combination of nativism and
libertarianism that makes up the Trump coalition
is particularly dangerous: it’s hard to imagine
any way a basic income program implemented in the
Trump era would be anything but a vehicle for
dismantling the remains of the welfare state while
simultaneously reinforcing nationalism by
excluding non-citizens from shared prosperity.
That said, basic income doesn’t seem likely to be
on the agenda of the Trump administration anytime
soon. Instead of inventing the future, Trump’s
move is to borrow from the past via boondoggles
like the Carrier deal, which give public money to
private companies in an attempt to revive a
mid-century imaginary where men had real factory
jobs. Welfare programs, meanwhile, are likely to
come under renewed attack from a Republican
administration ready to slash government spending.
The apparent success of Trump’s
appeal to mid-century nostalgia, though, has
thrown cold water on utopian visions. After a few
years of UBI flirtation, the American left seems
to be returning to full employment—rather than
full unemployment—as a demand, particularly via
the idea of a federal job guarantee. There’s
plenty of useful work to be done, of course, and
like income, jobs should be distributed as evenly
as possible. Remaking the ideology of work may be
too heavy a lift for the next few years.
Still, we shouldn’t stop
pushing back against reifying work as the source
of both income and social worth.
Ongoing expropriation and
proletarianization have left billions worldwide in
a condition of what historian Michael Denning
calls “wageless life,” rendered surplus to
capital’s needs and struggling to scrape by in a
system that starts “not with the offer of work,
but with the imperative to earn a living.” And so
while basic income sounds like a program for rich
countries—a luxury made possible by a certain
level of prosperity—it may be even more promising
in places where it seems most unaffordable. In
recent years UBI pilot programs have rolled out in
Namibia, Kenya, and Uganda, mostly funded by NGOs;
more generally, cash transfer programs, which aim
to diminish poverty by giving poor people
money—though often with specific criteria or
restrictions—are the latest fad in development.
Elsewhere, public support provides more in the way
of livelihoods than do private wages: the
anthropologist James Ferguson notes that more
South Africans receive income from government
welfare programs, whether child allowances or
disability aid, than from waged labor. Basic
income, Ferguson argues, may be the way to achieve
social welfare in countries where the prospect of
job creation on a scale adequate to the population
is little more than a fantasy.
Of course, the above model,
based on postwar growth in the United States and
Western Europe, is now a fantasy here too. Donald
Trump will fail to make America great again in the
way he’s promised. The factory jobs aren’t coming
back, and neither are 4 percent growth rates. Even
the desperate deals to keep individual plants
running won’t stave off the robots: Carrier AIR
CONDITIONERS,
for example, has already said it will put most of
the money it promised to invest in its Indiana
plant into automation. Which is why, despite the
dangers of UBI, it remains an important time for
the left to develop a view of a society less
oriented around work: as the futility of Fordist
nostalgia becomes more and more apparent, both
here and around the globe, the left should seize
the opportunity to push for a different view of
what work should be, how much of it we should do,
and what role it should play in our lives.
That will take time and a broad
coalition—but not the one that Stern describes
between the ultra-rich and the masses of gig
workers, or even of post-ideological rationalists
described by Bregman. Instead, the elements of a
staunchly left and genuinely political
coalition—comprised of workers who need more
leverage and the unemployed, those fighting for a
sustainable environment and racial justice, care
workers both waged and unwaged—are nascent but
increasingly visible.
The left hasn’t seriously
organized around welfare rights for years. But in
the coming years it will be more important than
ever to defend what remains of U.S. social
provision from Paul Ryan and company, particularly
given the nasty racial tack that fight will
undoubtedly take. And we can’t defend welfare just
as a backstop for vulnerable and unlucky members
of society, or as a handout to the benighted poor,
but as a fundamental and universal good for all.
In other words, we should advocate for the exact
opposite of the Clintonian welfare reform programs
of the 1990s, and the only kind of welfare program
that can build a broad and universal constituency
for social provision rather than marking out the
undeserving poor.
A recentNew
York Timesop-ed
argued for UBI as a kind of reparations for
decades of unpaid work done by women, echoing
socialist-feminist arguments about the value of
social reproduction. The Movement for Black Lives
endorsed basic income as part of a reparations
program, in the model of a new Freedom Budget. The
labor movement in the United States has
understandably focused on higher wages, but it
can—and must—also revive the demand for shorter
hours and more leisure. Basic income isn’t the
only way to make that demand, and it isn’t even a
necessary part of it—but its utopian elements can
help drive a more visionary agenda for labor.
None of the UBI proposals we
hear today—in Canada, the United Kingdom, or in
France—is likely to be quite the basic income
imagined by luxury communists (there aren’t enough
of them to win an election yet), but they’re a
start.
Utopia is possible. If we want
it, though, we’ll need to make it a part of the
demands and visions of the left movements we build
over the next few years. Because we can’t just
invent the future—we’re going to have to fight for
it. And with no guns, just NEW LAWS we force
CONGRESS to do.
HOW MUCH WORSE CAN AMERICA GET?
GUYS:
BE A
KEYBOARD COMRADE, a PC ACTIVIST, A SOLDIER
FOR PROGRESSIVE ISSUES, JOIN THE
BERNIES of this WORLD. SEE HOW: CLICK
HERE. a TSUNAMI
OF BERNIES --- TAKE OVER GOV but
NOT AT POINT OF A GUN LIKE LENIN.
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Our
POSTER is ANITA SANDS HERNANDEZ,
Los Angeles Writer, ombudsman, Futurist and
Astrologer to Yogi Bhajan for 35 years. Catch
up with her websites TRUTHS
GOV
WILL HIDE & NEVER TELL YOU, also The FUTURE,
WHAT'S COMIN' AT YA! FRUGAL
LIFE
STYLE TIPS, HOW TO SURVIVE
the
COMING GREAT DEPRESSION, and Secrets of Nature,
HOLISTIC, AFFORDABLE HEALING. Also ARTISANRY
FOR
EXPORT, EARN EUROS...* No brainier astrologer than
this girl. Write Anita at
astrology@earthlink.net and get a 15$ natal
horoscope "your money/future life reading" plus
a copy of your horoscope as a Gif file graphic!
No smarter, more accurate career reading out
there! PS. Anita sez, 'get a website for 5$ a month
and post articles that YOU LIKE, TOO! Be someone
who forwards the action, the evolution. IT IS
getting better you know and by getting WORSE
FIRST, it gets better!