Mr. Speaker, I include in the Record an article from Claremont Review of Books, spring, 2022, titled ``In the Red,'' by Jeffrey H. Anderson. In the Red Our glidepath to insolvency. When Ross Perot…
Mr. Speaker, I include in the Record an article from Claremont Review of Books, spring, 2022, titled ``In the Red,'' by Jeffrey H. Anderson.
In the Red
Our glidepath to insolvency.
When Ross Perot won an impressive 19 percent of the popular
vote as an independent candidate for president in 1992, his
main issue was the national debt. In one of his unusual,
half-hour-long campaign ads, Perot declared, ``Just this
year, we ran up $341 billion in new debt . . . . That's our
legislators and our president trying to buy our vote, this
year, with what used to be our money.''
Three decades later, our national debt--which reached $4
trillion the year that Perot ran--has hit $30 trillion. If
our debt were to keep rising at that rate over the next 60
years, it would increase more than 50-fold and surpass $1.5
quadrillion (a quadrillion, which sounds like a made-up
number, is a thousand trillions).
The portion of the national debt that really matters is the
almost 80 percent that's held by entities--whether foreign or
stateside--other than the federal government. Such ``debt
held by the public,'' which is fueled by deficit spending,
has to be paid back to outside entities, whereas debt not
held by the public merely involves intragovernmental
transfers. Foreign holdings compose about a third of all debt
held by the public. Japan and China hold by far the most
(over $1 trillion each), some of which belongs to private
investors and some to government entities. Put another way,
China--an increasingly hostile world superpower--has more
than $1 trillion of leverage over us.
It's getting worse, fast. Our recent deficit spending has
been truly historic. In 2020, based on official federal
tallies (the basis for all figures in this essay), the
federal government brought in $3.4 trillion in tax revenues
and dished our $6.6 trillion in spending--so, for every $10
that came in, $19 went out. This lavish expenditure smashed
the deficit record like New York's Bob Beamon smashed the
long-jump record in the 1968 Olympics. Beamon soared past the
previous record--27 feet, 4\3/4\ inches--to make an
astounding 29-foot, 2\1/2\-inch jump. In similar fashion,
with the deficit record sitting at $1.4 trillion, the federal
government in 2020 spent a spectacular $3.1 trillion that it
didn't have. In 2020 alone, the government racked up more
deficit spending than it had during the first 36 fiscal years
of the postwar era (1947 through 1982), and that's after
adjusting for inflation.
Even before our blowout spending during COVID, our deficits
had already reached breathtaking levels. In constant 2012
dollars (to adjust for inflation), the average annual deficit
during the four years from 2016 through 2019--a stretch of
relative peace and prosperity--was $700 billion. In
comparison, during the four years from 1942 through 1945--
during which we funded and fought a two-front war against
Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan--the average annual deficit
was $505 billion in constant 2012 dollars. After the war
(using the Office of Management and Budget's composite
deflator), we owed $3 trillion of debt held by the public in
constant 2012 dollars (four times what we owed when the war
began). Subsequent statesmen succeeded in cutting that tally
in half by 1974 (to $1.5 trillion), but it rose back to end-
of-World-War-II levels by 1986 (to $3 trillion), doubled end-
of-World-War-II levels by 2008 ($6 trillion), tripled them by
2010 ($9 trillion), quadrupled them by 2014 ($12 trillion),
quintupled them by 2019 ($15 trillion), and sextupled them by
2020 ($18 trillion).
In other words, we added as much debt held by the public in
2020 alone as we did from the end of World War II to the end
of 2008, and we racked up more debt in the 12 months of 2020
than we did during the four years of the Second World War.
That's after adjusting for inflation.
No Big Deal
And yet, incredibly, many politicians and commentators
claim that our staggering indebtedness is nothing much to
worry about. Unwilling to face the challenge of reining in
the budget, we seem to have thrown up our hands in recent
years and chosen to treat our ballooning deficits as funny
money.
Debt apologists like to measure taxes, spending, and debt
in relation to the gross domestic product (GDP), rather than
in relation to inflation or population growth. That way, if
Americans' tax bills double, but the economy doubles in size
over that same span, it can be said that Americans aren't
paying any more in taxes (as a percentage of GDP). The same
thing is true with the debt, which only rises by this measure
if it increases faster than economic output.
This way of talking partially masks the magnitude of our
debt problem by assuming that our government should grow
every bit as fast as our economy. Even so, by the percent-of-
GDP measure, debt held by the public is now at approximately
end-of-World War II levels. But whereas it fell dramatically
after World War II, there is no reason to think it will do so
now. It more than tripled from 2001 (32 percent of GDP) to
2020 (100 percent of GDP), putting us on course to surpass
300 percent of GDP if it grows at the same rate from 2020 to
2039.
For all of the myriad cultural, technological, and moral
problems we face, few things would guarantee the undoing of
the founders' experiment in self-government more surely than
continuing to pile on the burden, to ourselves and our
posterity, of runaway debt. Thomas Jefferson described fiscal
profligacy as a precursor to inevitable misery and suffering,
the first in a stampede of apocalyptic horsemen. ``[T]he fore
horse of this frightful team is public debt,'' he wrote.
``Taxation follows that, and in its train wretchedness and
oppression.'' This wretchedness will only be more keenly felt
as interest rates rise. Too much debt puts power in the hands
of our enemies and renders the average American poorer every
year.
Mandatory Bankruptcy
The first step in avoiding a truly calamitous, debt-ridden
future is to understand bow we got ourselves into this
predicament to begin with. It is not national defense or even
the New Deal but rather the Great Society that is bankrupting
us.
A fundamental preliminary question is whether our
government taxes too little or spends too much. The answer is
easy to determine. In 2021, the federal government collected
more than three-and-a-half times as much money, in real
dollars per capita--that is, above and beyond inflation and
population growth--as it did at the start of the postwar
period. But it spent nearly seven times as much. From 1947
(the first postwar fiscal year, as FY 1946 began in July of
1945) through 2021, the population of the United States rose
2.3-fold, while prices rose nearly 13-fold. Combining these
two factors, the federal government could have collected and
spent 29 times as much in nominal dollars in 2021 as it did
in 1947 without collecting or spending any more in real
(inflation-adjusted) dollars per capita. Instead, the federal
government taxed more than 100 times as much in 2021 as in
1947 and spent almost 200 times as much. By any reasonable
standard, our government isn't afflicted by a shortage of tax
revenues but by an almost endless appetite for spending.
What are we spending all of that money on? Contra the
Left's repeated claims, it isn't defense--and our debt
problem wasn't created by Ronald Reagan. We actually spend
less per capita on defense now, after adjusting for
inflation, than we did during the Kennedy Administration.
Real per-capita defense spending fell from $2,283 in 1962 to
$1,953 in 2020, a drop of 14 percent. Even at the height of
the Reagan defense buildup, we exceeded the 1962 level by
only 2 percent. Meanwhile, real per-capita spending on
everything but defense increased more than eight-fold (from
$1,930 in 1962 to $15,646 in 2020). If overall federal
spending had followed the same trajectory as defense
spending, we would have had a surplus in 2020 of $2.1
trillion instead of a deficit of $3.1 trillion.
The problem isn't defense: it's health care. More
specifically, it was Lyndon Johnson and his (mostly)
Democratic congressional allies who put us on a glidepath
toward insolvency with the passage of their Great Society
programs. The New Deal put strain on the federal budget, to
be sure, but not enough to break it. By 1964, over three
decades after Franklin Roosevelt had taken office, federal
debt held by the public had fallen more than 40 percent from
the end of World War II, in real (inflation-adjusted)
dollars. The real deficit was 1/68th as large as it would be
in 2020. As the first Ford Mustangs rolled off the assembly
line, the country's debt was manageable and dropping, its
deficits were minimal, and seven of the postwar years had
actually produced surpluses. The next year, Johnson signed
legislation creating Medicare and Medicaid.
Broadly speaking, there are two ways to fund federal
programs. Congress either decides how much funding a program
will get (``discretionary'' spending), or just puts a program
on autopilot and finds out later how much it turned out to
cost (``mandatory'' spending). With discretionary spending,
Congress decides each year how much money to appropriate (for
something like national defense), taking into account such
quaint notions as what we need and what we can afford. With
``mandatory'' spending, Congress creates a program and
pledges to fund it at the same time, even though no one knows
what its price tag will be.
Within ``mandatory'' spending, there are programs that have
a dedicated and generally sufficient revenue stream (such as
Social Security), and there are those that do not have a
dedicated revenue stream that comes anywhere near covering
their costs--such as Medicare and Medicaid (and Obamacare,
part of which expanded Medicaid). Payroll taxes cover only
about a third of Medicare's costs and none of Medicaid's. In
other words, no one who launched these programs had any idea
how to pay for them.
This has had extraordinary consequences. The first year
that Medicare spending visibly hit the books was 1967. From
that point through 2020, Medicare and Medicaid cost a
combined $17.8 trillion, while our combined federal deficits
over that same span were $17.9 trillion. In essence, our
deficit problem is a Medicare and Medicaid problem.
The Father of Our Debt
By 1975, a decade after they were created, Medicare and
Medicaid were entrenched. From that point through 2019--the
most recent ``normal'' (pre-COVID) spending year--real per-
capita Medicare and Medicaid spending rose nine-fold (more
than triple the rise in Social Security costs over that
period). In 1975, we spent more than five times as much on
defense as on Medicare and Medicaid combined. By 2019, we
spent 56 percent more on Medicare and Medicaid than on
defense.
In 2019, the federal government collected about $10,500 in
revenues per capita and spent about $13,500. Here's how
Americans' contributions to the federal treasury were
allocated. The first $1,000 essentially just went into the
trash--it was used to pay interest on the debt, not to buy
anything. About $2,000 was spent on defense and another
$2,000 on non-defense discretionary spending. Roughly $3,000
was spent on Social Security, $3,000 on Medicare and Medicaid
(with about a 60 percent-40 percent split between them), and
$2,500 on other ``mandatory'' spending, to include much of
Obamacare, unemployment, welfare, etc. So, in all, about
$4,000 (or roughly 30 percent) was discretionary spending,
actually voted upon by Congress, and about $9,500 (roughly 70
percent) was either ``mandatory'' spending or payments on the
national debt.
If we had a Mount Rushmore of deficit spending, then,
Lyndon Johnson would merit George Washington's place of honor
as the father of our debt. Beside him would be the three most
recent presidents. For we have run up more debt under Barack
Obama, Donald Trump, and Joe Biden--even after adjusting
for inflation--than we did under the previous 42
presidents combined. After a brief period of fiscal
responsibility under Bill Clinton, the average annual
deficit soared to $455 billion under George W. Bush ($41
billion more than under his father), $857 billion under
Obama, and $1.462 trillion under Trump (who was averaging
$805 billion even before COVID hit).
Again--amazingly--these figures are adjusted for inflation.
They are based on each president's having been responsible
for the deficit the year after he took office--for example,
Obama, who took office when fiscal year 2009 was already
underway, was responsible for fiscal years 2010 through 2017.
But note the following exceptions: the $179 billion in Obama-
signed ``stimulus'' funds spent in 2009, and the $1.115
trillion in Biden-signed COVID ``stimulus'' funds spent in
2021 are treated as part of Obama's and Biden's deficit
tallies, respectively; and the $147 billion in TARP loans
repaid in 2010 ($110 billion) and 2011 ($37 billion) are
counted as reductions in George W. Bush's deficit tallies, as
they paid back money that was counted as deficit spending
when it was loaned out on Bush's watch.
Clinton is the obvious outlier, having managed an average
annual surplus of $3 billion during his eight years in
office, six of them with a Republican Congress. After Perot
sounded the alarm and Republicans won the House for the first
time in four decades, Speaker Newt Gingrich and his
Republican colleagues--working with Clinton--made good on the
Contract with America's pledge to balance the budget. They
cut defense spending, passed welfare reform, benefitted from
a strong economy that increased revenues, and were able to
lower federal interest payments as the debt fell. Most
surprisingly, however, they managed to cut Medicare spending,
via reforms passed through the Balanced Budget Act of 1997
(BBA). After Medicare's costs had quadrupled from 1982 to
1997, they actually dropped from 1998 to 1999--not just in
comparison to inflation, but in terms of the actual number of
dollars that went out the door.
It was around this time that the ``experts'' decided the
work was done and the free-spending days could return once
again. In 2002, after the George W. Bush tax cues had been
enacted, the Congressional Budget Office (CBO) projected that
the federal government would run a surplus in nine out of the
ten years from 2003 through 2012 and a decade-long surplus of
$2.3 trillion. It turned out that the federal government ran
a deficit in all ten of those years and a decade-long deficit
of $7.l trillion. The CBO also projected that debt held by
the public at the end of 2012 would be $1.3 trillion. It
turned out to be $11.3 trillion, so the CBO was off by $10
trillion and a factor of nearly nine.
Despite this subsequent debt explosion, the Clinton-
Gingrich era was a successful one in terms of fiscal
responsibility. Indeed, over the past 40 years, deficits have
been lowest when a Democrat has been in the White House and
Republicans have controlled both houses of Congress. The
second-best scenario has been a Republican president with
either party controlling both houses of Congress. Next-best
has been a Democratic president paired with a mixed Congress
(with each party controlling one house), followed by a
Republican president paired with a mixed Congress. The worst
scenario has been Democratic control of the whole government.
Over the past four decades, Democratic control (average
deficit of $1.1 trillion in constant 2012 dollars) has been
more than twice as costly as Republican control ($490
billion).
No matter who is in power, however, about 70 percent of our
spending--consuming about 90 percent of our tax revenues--is
on autopilot. To balance the budget by focusing solely on
cutting those portions of the budget that Congress actively
controls through the appropriations process, we would have to
cut discretionary spending--which includes defense--by about
75 percent. Any realistic effort to balance the budget,
therefore, must focus on ``mandatory'' spending.
Fixing Our Mess
Medicare absolutely must be reformed. Its autopilot has
malfunctioned and is flying not only the plane but also the
country into the ground. We came tantalizingly close to
fixing things back in 1999, when the National Bipartisan
Commission on the Future of Medicare grew out of the BBA and
drafted an appealing blueprint for reform. The Commission,
chaired by Democratic Senator John Breaux and Republican
Congressman Bill Thomas, floated a variety of proposals, most
notably ``premium support,'' which would utilize private
competition to keep public costs down. But events intervened:
Politico healthcare editor Adriel Bettelheim writes that
``with the Monica Lewinsky scandal festering and the threat .
. . of impeachment growing, [Clinton] took a very public turn
to appease his left flank'' and turned against the commission
just as it was wrapping up its 11 months of work.
Nevertheless, the commission was a serious effort at
exploring promising ideas, many of which Congressman Paul
Ryan picked up during his Obamacare-fighting era. Ryan's
advocacy of premium support did not keep him from being
tapped as Mitt Romney's 2012 running mate, nor did it hurt
the Romney-Ryan ticket (Romney did that all on his own). This
suggests that Medicare reform can be politically viable when
advanced with determination and skill.
Medicaid also cannot go on in its present form. Its funding
system, whereby every $1 of state funding is matched by
between $1 and $9 of federal funding, invites waste and
inefficiency. The more a state spends on Medicaid, the more
federal money it gets. If it manages to reform its Medicaid
program, it gets at most half of the savings--usually far
less. Also, states often hire consultants who concoct
elaborate shell games to exaggerate states' Medicaid funding,
thereby
bringing in even more federal money, much of which funds non-
Medicaid ventures. If Medicaid were reformed so that each
stare simply received a given amount of federal funding,
independent of the state's level of funding, that would
presumably remove most of these perverse incentives and
reduce Medicaid's costs.
Social Security has always been self-funded, but it too is
projected to dip into the red about a dozen years from now.
It poses nowhere near the threat to our fiscal solvency that
Medicare and Medicaid do, bur its costs have still risen
faster than overall federal spending, and it does need to be
sensibly revised. The percentage of the U.S. population that
is over age 75 is roughly the same as the percentage that was
over age 65 when Social Security was created, yet the
eligibility age for receiving full retirement benefits has
been raised just two years (from 65 to 67) over the past
eight decades. Gradually (but not too gradually) raising that
age to reflect current biological and fiscal realities is an
obvious and necessary fix.
In addition to changing individual programs, there are
measures we can take to promote fiscal responsibility more
generally. Simply demanding a balanced budget, either as a
matter of policy or through a constitutional amendment, will
not do: the state could still spend as much as it accrued,
which might encourage ever-greater levels of taxation to fund
an ever-larger government, as in many European countries.
Instead, we ought to focus on measures that can keep spending
itself low.
For instance, the American citizenry would be more apt to
view the debt as a shared concern if nearly everyone paid at
least some income tax, as Florida Senator Rick Scott has
proposed. At the least, no one's income tax bill should go
negative, as it does when tax credits are made
``refundable''--available not as a tax cut but as a payment
to those who don't pay income tax. A few years ago, I
released ``The Main Street Tax Plan'' (Hudson Institute,
2016), which the Tax Foundation said would reduce deficits.
It declared, ``Nearly everyone should be paying something in
income tax, however small, and Americans shouldn't regard
April 15 as a payday.''
Some, such as Senator Mitch McConnell, oppose Scott's
proposal because--in McConnell's words--it ``raises taxes''
(for people who don't pay income taxes). Those who share this
concern should consider pairing refund reform with an end to
the Medicare payroll tax. Unlike the Social Security payroll
tax, which is viral and funds Social Security as a (more or
less) pay-in-for-yourself program, the Medicare payroll tax
funds only about a third of Medicare and helps perpetuate the
false notion that Medicare too is mostly pay-in-for-yourself.
Eliminating the Medicare payroll tax would soften the
perception of Medicare as an entitlement, simplify the tax
code, and ease the tax burden of the working poor. Combining
this with Scott's plan would encourage more people to care
about the size and scope of the federal government.
In 2010, back when the Tea Party was ascendant and the
national debt was $13 trillion rather than $30 trillion, I
proposed (in National Affairs) a Limited Government Amendment
to the Constitution. Such an amendment would limit annual
increases in federal spending to inflation plus two
percentage points, except during a formally declared war, or
if two-thirds of Congress and three-quarters of state
legislatures authorized additional spending for other
reasons. An amendment in this spirit could greatly facilitate
fiscal restraint.
It has become fashionable to think of constitutional
amendments as relics from the past. But then, so are fiscal
responsibility and--increasingly--representative government.
The founders made the Constitution amendable for a reason,
and we should take our cues from them. In the late 1990s, we
showed--briefly--that it's possible to take action to reverse
our course and help save our country from the tragic fate
that Jefferson described. But the first step is to recognize
that the $30 trillion elephant in the room isn't going away.
It's just growing bigger.
Mr. Speaker, I rise in opposition, sadly, to H.R. 2773. Although protecting our endangered species is truly a worthy cause, our country is not fiscally sound, and to commit $1.4 billion a year in perpetuity is exactly the kind of spending that has landed us in the mess we are now in.
Let me be clear: we do not have the money. In the 30 years since 1992, the national debt has increased from $4 trillion to $30 trillion. Mr. Anderson notes in his article that:
At that rate over the next 60 years, our debt would
increase by more than 50-fold to surpass $1.5 quadrillion. In
case one is wondering, a quadrillion is 1,000 trillions.
Mr. Speaker, some might say: Just raise taxes. But, Mr. Speaker, the author of the article points out that, in fact, the Federal Government last year taxed over 100 times what it did in the first postwar year and spent nearly 200 times as much. So taxes are not the problem. Spending is the problem.
The $1.4 billion per year is perpetual. Now, under anyone's measure, perpetuity is a long time. Since this money will never be paid back, some might say like those deep in credit card debt: We will just pay the interest.
The interest on $1.5 billion for 30 years at current rates of 3.4 percent is $51 million a year. But, Mr. Speaker, we have to look at the current total interest bill. It is estimated to be almost $400 billion a year or about 8.7 percent of everything we spend.
Why would we add to this enormous obligation?
There is a quote by Ernest Hemingway: How did you go bankrupt?
The answer is: Gradually, then suddenly.
Mr. Speaker, this is exactly how bankruptcy works. You can keep spending recklessly and rack up debts for a while--even a long while-- but at some point, it comes to an end abruptly. We have ignored our Nation's spending problems for far too long. We have been going bankrupt gradually, and I fear the day will come when we will go bankrupt immediately.
We must correct this course. For this reason, I cannot support, sadly, this bill.
Madam Speaker, I rise in support of my amendment No. 8.
This fiscally responsible amendment would establish a 1.85 percent administrative cap for the Department of the Interior when implementing title III of this bill.
Title I of the bill, which provides funding to State fish and wildlife departments for species conservation, includes a 1.85 percent administrative cap.
Title II of the bill, which covers Tribal Wildlife Conservation and Restoration, includes a 3 percent administrative cap for the Department of the Interior.
However, as currently drafted, title III does not have an administrative cap.
The original intent of this bill was to provide States with funding to conserve species of greatest conservation need.
Unfortunately, the majority decided to ignore the committee process by airdropping in title III to give more funding to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.
Not only did they circumvent process to add the entire title to the bill, they didn't carry over any of the good government amendments made in committee.
Under the current text, the State and Tribal portions of the bill would be subject to strict administrative caps, but the Federal Government would not be. This is backwards, as the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service needs much more oversight since the agency is part of the reason we find ourselves in the position we are currently in with respect to the broken Endangered Species Act.
Additionally, the programs funded in title III already receive existing appropriations, and if the majority would like to increase them, they should do it through the appropriations process instead of airdropping in another layer of statute and bureaucracy into the legislation.
For these reasons, title III should be struck from the bill. Unfortunately, the majority refused to allow a vote on my colleague from Utah's amendment that would have done just that.
The very least we can do is at least ensure that title III is subject to the same administrative requirements as the other titles.
I urge my colleagues to support this amendment.