American Dreams (19 page)

Of all the topics I have addressed in this book, the preservation of the American family is by far the most difficult. This is complex, fraught territory for any public official. But it is no longer acceptable to throw up our collective hands and run away from the issue. We know now that the stakes are too high for any more polite averting our eyes to the state of the American family. Paying lip service will no longer suffice. Real lives and real futures are at stake. The health of our economy, our exceptionalism as a nation, the very
survival
of the American Dream is caught up with the survival of the American family. Using the family as a political wedge issue—by the right or by the left—must be called out as the dangerous opportunism that it is.

And here, the responsibility—and the hypocrisy—does not lie with all Americans equally. As we've seen, less-educated, lower-income Americans are experiencing an epidemic of broken marriages and single-parent families. Meanwhile, those at the top levels of income and education in our society are clinging to—and in many cases rediscovering—more traditional values. Less than 5 percent of college-educated white women have children outside of marriage, for example, compared with around 40 percent of white women with just a high school degree. And after growing in frequency during the 1970s and mid-1980s, divorce is now also a rarity among the upper classes.

American elites, in short, practice the old-fashioned values of work, thrift, marriage before children and delayed gratification. But in the words of American Enterprise Institute author Charles Murray, they don't “preach what they practice.” Liberal elites in Washington, New York and Hollywood too often have standards for their children at home that they refuse to advocate for other people's children when they're making laws, movies, television and magazines. Television executives in Hollywood and software designers in Silicon Valley who wouldn't consider having a child outside of marriage regularly produce popular entertainment that celebrates precisely that. Even many Washington policy makers who are in church every Sunday refuse to advocate for traditional faith values for fear of committing the cardinal sin of today's liberalism: being “judgmental.”

But America has been “judgmental” before—and to good effect. Our elites have even helped. Time and again, we've reached a judgment as a nation that certain behaviors are harmful and should no longer be tolerated. We've mounted campaigns involving lawmakers, business and the entertainment industry to send strong societal messages. The campaigns against smoking, drunk driving and childhood obesity come to mind. We haven't eliminated these problems altogether, but we've changed hearts and minds and we've done so by embracing—rather than avoiding—being judgmental.

Even on delicate issues like teenage sex and pregnancy, despite the general resistance of many at the commanding heights of our culture to “preach what they practice,” we've been able to send the message that this activity is no longer acceptable. Teen pregnancy, birth and abortion rates are at historic lows. There are a number of reasons for this. One of the most interesting I've heard is that shows like MTV's
16 and Pregnant
have persuaded young viewers to put off sex and childbearing. One study of viewers of the show, which follows teenagers dealing with the sleepless nights and loss of freedom that come with having a baby, showed that the rate of teenage pregnancy declined faster in areas where teenagers watched more MTV programming, including
16 and Pregnant
.
9

Marriage and family are bigger and more profound issues than even teen pregnancy. Still, with the support of transformed government programs, a national campaign bringing together the entertainment industry, civic groups, churches and elected officials could begin to change American hearts and minds on the issue of marriage. Reminding our fellow citizens of the values that we've always embraced as a nation—the values the most successful Americans cling to today—could begin to turn the tide on the decline of marriage. It's not a magic bullet. American families still suffer from a lack of job opportunities and a lack of skills for the new economy, not to mention soaring health care, college and housing costs. But the very real cultural issues that are contributing to the decline of marriage—the easy acceptance of unwed motherhood and absent fathers, the “just do it if it feels good” ethos—these are susceptible to some good old-fashioned moral judgment.

Such a campaign, of course, requires leadership, and what we have in Washington today on issues of marriage and the family is the opposite of leadership. Instead of offering America's struggling single moms and dads help in transcending their situations, Democrats employ the deeply cynical “war on women” strategy to keep them—and their votes—just where they are. Despite the clear, uncontested evidence that single parenthood creates significant challenges for children, for mothers and even for fathers, any mention of efforts to address it is greeted as more of the conservative “animus toward women.” But who is it, really, that has the best interests of single women and American families at heart? Those who fixate on a fictional “war on women”? Or those who are eager to reform our poverty programs, our tax code and our moral sensibility to support work and family?

I'm not blind to the work we have to do to convince women struggling to raise families alone of the rightness of our cause. But when I think of a young woman like India, I know that the ideas and the policies I have discussed in this book are a natural fit for a young American of ambition and determination like her. I have no idea how she votes or what her politics are. I know only that these policies focus on bringing opportunity within reach of everyone. We must never forget that by confronting our family crisis, we are also confronting the idea that gave birth to our country: the idea that everyone deserves the chance to go as far as their dreams, work and talent will take them.

It is this belief that has turned America into the single most generous and caring nation on the planet. Each generation in our history has instilled in the next a deep sense of duty toward those who are struggling. In our families, in our homes, in the examples of our parents, we have learned not to sit back and wait for government to step in to help those in need, but to take it upon ourselves.

This value should be reflected in our government too, through policies that empower our people to achieve their true potential. People are always grateful for financial assistance, but after that, they want the ability to achieve true independence. This means they need the education that will lead to employable skills, the economic growth that will lead to a good job—and, yes, the values that will lead to successful and fulfilling lives.

We can cut taxes, reduce regulations, improve higher education and spark economic growth, but if we do not address the challenges facing American families, millions will continue to be denied an equal opportunity to achieve a better life. Solving all the other challenges facing America—from joblessness to poverty to inequality—is contingent upon solving this one.

So when our children and their children look back decades from now, let it be said that we did what was necessary to preserve what made us special. Let it be said that we reclaimed the values of a strong people, and in doing so preserved the legacy of the greatest nation in the history of the world.

 

S
ince I began writing this book in the spring of 2014, Americans have witnessed a time of extraordinary upheaval around the world, and unprecedented distrust in government here at home.

When I began writing, most Americans had never heard of ISIL. Since then, we have witnessed the murder of our own journalists, the savage enslavement of women and girls, and an expanding arc of death and destruction across the Middle East. The terrorists President Obama once dismissed as the “JV squad” now control vast swaths of Iraq and Syria. And when I began writing, few would have guessed that Russia would upend decades of regional balance and challenge European security. Nonetheless, Russia invaded Ukraine and hundreds of innocent travelers were murdered when a Malaysian passenger plane was shot from the sky.

The list goes on. A modern-day plague erupted and has raged through West Africa, eventually reaching America's shores. Innocent Syrians are slaughtered at the whim of a tyrant. Hamas rains terror down on Israel. China continues its provocations in the South China Sea. Peaceful protestors in Venezuela are met with violence from their own government—and then a corrupt United Nations elects that government to its most august body.

Americans once trusted our institutions to protect us from the dangers of the world and to champion our interests in our daily lives. In the institutions of the presidency and the Congress we placed our trust to lead our nation abroad in pursuit of our interests and highest ideals. This trust was not misplaced. Providing for the common defense is the highest responsibility of our elected leaders. The Constitution assigns seventeen separate duties to Congress, six of which deal exclusively with national defense—more than any other area. And as the chief executive and commander in chief, the president has a unique role in our national defense, one that only he or she can play: to have the foresight to see threats developing and to lead the American people in dealing with these threats.

National defense is the first and highest calling of government. And all of the threats to the American Dream discussed in this book—from the decline of good jobs to the need for education reform to prepare Americans for the jobs of the twenty-first century—are tied, either directly or indirectly, to our ability to protect our interests around the globe. Our economic prosperity—and with it our jobs—depends on our ability to sell products and services to other nations, to communicate openly and reliably, and to travel freely. Millions of our best jobs today and in the future depend on foreign trade.

Still, debates about the proper strength of our military and the proper application of our strength around the world—whether to get involved in foreign lands or not—are as old as the republic. There have always been those who argue that America shouldn't concern herself with the affairs of the world—that what happens an ocean away bears little relevance to our people. Some of these men were members of the first Congress. When their president, George Washington, delivered the first ever State of the Union address, he asserted the need for American strength in order to protect the new republic. Washington said, “To prepare for war is one of the most effectual means of preserving the peace.” But Congress disagreed. They assumed our hard-won independence meant the threats of the Old World had finally become irrelevant. They believed the nation could now afford to devote itself exclusively to domestic issues. So, against Washington's wishes, they cut the navy's funding. Our ships were taken out of service, our sailors sent home.

But even then, America's economy relied heavily on trade with Europe. And without a navy to protect them, our merchant ships were easy prey for marauding, extortionist bands of North African pirates known as the Barbary pirates. Throughout the Mediterranean, they attacked, killed and enslaved our sailors. They seized ships and their cargo and demanded exorbitant ransoms. But there was nothing we could do. America was defenseless. Even after we recommissioned our navy and sent it across the Atlantic to battle the pirates, it took nearly fifteen years and two Barbary Wars to secure the safe passage of our ships and the continuation of trade with Europe.

From the Barbary pirates America learned—or should have learned—an important lesson: We must be prepared for threats wherever they arise, because our nation is never isolated from the world. Even then, at a time when our connections to the world were limited to a slow procession of merchant ships, tremors in global affairs could fracture the foundations of our domestic economy. This is true today as never before. Americans can now connect with the world from their living rooms with a smartphone or an iPad—no ship or even airplane is necessary. The same is true for entrepreneurs, artists—and terrorists—in other countries. What happens across the planet can have a greater impact on your family than what happens down the street.

Americans are rightly and understandably preoccupied with simply making ends meet these days—paying down that loan or holding on to the house. It's the job of our leaders to keep their eye on the outside threats that make doing these mundane things harder—or might prevent us from doing them at all. Unfortunately, too many leaders in both parties, including our president and some who aspire to be president, have shown they would rather wait for poll numbers to change than demonstrate the leadership necessary to shape public opinion.

Once again, America finds itself with some leaders who believe we can ignore the world without consequences here at home. Apparently they're oblivious to the reality that we are less insulated from global events than ever.

Instead of doing the hard work of outlining the costs of weakness and inaction to the American people, they have taken the political path of least resistance. Our leaders have advocated leaving our allies to fend for themselves. They have proposed and enacted massive reductions in defense spending. They have tried to convince Americans the world would be fine without our leadership. Worse, they have told us that America would be fine regardless of the chaos that erupts in a leaderless world.

No single president, no single party and no single Congress has been solely at fault. But a striking shift has occurred at the hands of our current president. In sharp contrast to the “peace through strength” leadership of George Washington and Ronald Reagan, the president has made
reducing
American strength and engagement an active priority. When he delivered his first inaugural address, instead of reassuring our allies, he spoke directly to our enemies, indicating willingness—even eagerness—to change our nation's approach to them. He said, “We will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.” But the president didn't wait for our enemies to take a less aggressive stance against America—to unclench their fists—before he extended his hand to them. Even as they continued to threaten, target and even kill Americans, this administration went to work stripping parts from the engine of American strength. Defense spending has been cut dramatically and disproportionately—by 21 percent since 2010 when adjusted for inflation. The army is set to be reduced to pre–World War II levels. The navy is at pre–World War I levels. The air force has the smallest and oldest combat force in its history.

To the world, this decline in American strength has sent a message to both our friends and our enemies. Our friends doubt our resolve and hesitate to join us in combating threats. And our adversaries are emboldened by what they perceive as our diminished military presence. For proof, recall the way Russian dictator Vladimir Putin scoffed at the president's modest attempts to impose sanctions during the Ukraine crisis. Or recall how the Syrian tyrant Bashar al-Assad declined to take America's threats seriously, used chemical weapons on his own people and still remains in power.

Here at home, the president's foreign policy retreat and ensuing global chaos has undermined the American people's faith, not just in the institutions of government to keep us safe, but in the very promise and power of the American ideal. The pride we once took in our global leadership has withered into uncertainty. The hope that America could fix international crises has turned to hope that we will stop making them worse.

For me—and I hope the vast majority of my colleagues in Congress—the ongoing discussion about the nature and extent of America's role in the world isn't just an academic discussion. I am keenly aware that my decisions impact each and every American, sometimes in personal and profound ways. Over the last fourteen years, thousands of Americans have lost mothers, fathers, sons and daughters as part of our effort to defeat terrorism and bring freedom to Iraq and Afghanistan. These sacrifices have left many Americans understandably weary. Many of us are also discouraged by the nature of disputes in the world, particularly the Middle East, which seems to pit one bad actor against another. We're tired that our efforts are so often unappreciated. And we wonder, with all the problems here at home, why we should spend our money and effort abroad.

There is no denying that a globally engaged America comes at a steep price. But the history of our young nation shows that a lack of American engagement in global leadership exacts an even higher price. Imagine for a moment the kind of world we would live in if America had sat out the twentieth century. Imagine if the beaches of Normandy had never been touched by American boots, if American aid hadn't helped alleviate the AIDS crisis in Africa or if nuclear proliferation had continued unfettered by U.S. leadership. It's no exaggeration to say that the world would be less prosperous—even that the majority of democracies would fail to exist—had America failed to lead.

When we have listened to the voices urging us to retreat from the world, we have failed to meet the threats growing abroad until it was almost too late. In November 2013 I stood at a podium at the American Enterprise Institute in Washington D.C. and warned that we were on the verge of repeating that mistake once again. Other nations were not sitting idly by waiting for America to, as President Obama put it, “nation-build at home.” Tragically, events of the past year have borne out this warning. From Libya to Syria to Egypt to Ukraine, this administration simply shrugs as threats fester. When it does act, it fails to communicate any consistent rationale for military use.

We can't change the past, but we can begin to build a foundation for future American strength and leadership. At a minimum, the events of the past year have made it clear what a twenty-first-century American foreign policy should
not
look like. It should not be tentative about—or even hostile to—American leadership. It should not be poll driven. And it should not seek to deny the simple truth that the world is at its safest when America is at its strongest.

Rebuilding American strength and restoring trust in our national security institutions rests on achieving three objectives. First, we must recognize that, in a globalized world, conflict breeds economic disruption. If a band of pirates was able to wreak havoc on our economy in the late eighteenth century, then ISIL, a nuclear Iran, an aggressive China or a resurgent Russia can certainly do so in the twenty-first. We must boldly oppose efforts by other nations to infringe upon the freedom of international waters, airspace, cyberspace and outer space.

Second, we need to have moral clarity regarding what we stand for and why. This means being unabashed in support of the spread of economic and political freedom. It means reinforcing our alliances based on these principles. And it means resisting efforts by rising and resurgent powers to subjugate their neighbors.

Finally, we need American strength. America under this president has simply not been at its strongest. Waiting for our adversaries to unclench their fists so we can shake their hands has not proven a responsible or effective strategy. The “don't do stupid stuff” approach has proven self-contradictory. We must instead demonstrate a strength in defense capabilities that, as Presidents Washington and Reagan envisioned, leaves our enemies unwilling to provoke us. Yet times have changed since Reagan's historic buildup. A strong national defense in the twenty-first century will require a defense agenda built for the twenty-first century—one that ensures the superiority of our technological advances, armed forces and intelligence capabilities.

Rebuilding American strength for the twenty-first century begins with a willingness to allocate an appropriate amount of money toward our defense needs. There is no denying that the fiscal challenges facing our nation are daunting. In fact, I believe one of the greatest risks to our national security is our federal debt. But it's important to remember that defense spending is not the primary driver of our debt. Defense makes up only about 16 percent of the federal budget—and that amount is declining. It is Social Security and Medicare that comprise a staggering 37 percent of the federal budget—and that amount is rising. This is why I've proposed ways to reform these important entitlement programs to make them sustainable.

In 2011, then Secretary of Defense Robert Gates proposed a defense budget for 2012 that was forward-thinking, strategy-driven and also fiscally sustainable. The bipartisan National Defense Panel also recommends that we move to fulfill the Gates budget goals as soon as possible. As it is, our defense budget is running about $1 trillion short of this bipartisan funding goal.

Basing our defense budgets on strategy and not math, as Secretary Gates has proposed, will allow us both to modernize our military to make sure it is on the cutting edge today and to innovate to make sure we remain there tomorrow. As it is, far from modernizing and innovating within our military force, we are actually going backward in the area of force levels. This may have gone largely unnoticed in the United States, but it sure hasn't among our adversaries. China, in particular, is sprinting up behind us, rapidly closing the gap in readiness and strength, and now America must run faster than ever just to maintain our current level of superiority. For the first time ever, we are reacting to China's advances in capabilities rather than having China react to ours.