Narrator: In the early 20th century, an Austrian opera singer named Robert Leonhardt sailed to America, chasing a dream of stardom at the Metropolitan Opera. He found work, but when World War I ignited anti-German sentiment, he was fired as an "enemy alien." His dream shattered, he died alone and impoverished in New York at age 40. Decades later, a different story unfolded. In 1940, an American child had a 92 percent chance of earning more than their parents, a near-guarantee of progress that defined the American Dream. But for a child born in 1980, that chance had plummeted to a mere 50-50 coin flip.

What happened in the intervening years to so drastically alter the promise of American life? In his book, Ours Was the Shining Future, author David Leonhardt provides a compelling and meticulously researched answer. He argues that the American Dream was never an accident of history or a natural outcome of capitalism. Instead, it was a deliberate creation, built on a system of "democratic capitalism" that balanced the power of corporations, workers, and government. Its subsequent decline was also the result of deliberate choices that dismantled this system, leaving behind an economy of stagnation and inequality.

Narrator: In the early 1930s, the life of a Minneapolis truck driver was brutal. Drivers spent long, unpaid hours waiting in wooden shacks called "doghouses" for their next delivery. They were paid by the load, not the hour, and lived on the edge of poverty. The city was an "employer's paradise," dominated by the Citizens Alliance, a powerful group of business executives who crushed any attempt at unionization with spies, replacement workers, and political influence. For decades, they had ensured that every major strike failed.

But the Great Depression and the New Deal began to shift the balance of power. A Swedish immigrant and union activist named Carl Skoglund started organizing secret meetings with his fellow drivers. Empowered by new federal laws that protected the right to organize, the drivers formed a union and went on strike in 1934. The Citizens Alliance fought back viciously. The conflict turned bloody when police fired on unarmed strikers, killing two and wounding dozens. But the workers, using innovative tactics like mobile "flying squads" to shut down deliveries and a daily newspaper to counter pro-business propaganda, held their ground. After a summer of violent struggle, they won. This victory wasn't just about a pay raise; it was a fundamental reordering of power. Leonhardt uses this story to illustrate that the era of shared prosperity wasn't handed down by benevolent corporations. It was forged in conflict, as organized labor fought for and won a seat at the table, creating the economic leverage that forced companies to share their profits more broadly.

Narrator: Following World War II, many feared the American economy would slide back into depression. Yet, a new and unexpected consensus emerged from within the heart of corporate America. A key figure in this shift was Paul Hoffman, the president of the Studebaker automobile company. Hoffman was a classic self-made man who initially opposed the New Deal. However, the rise of global totalitarianism convinced him that "rough-and-tumble" capitalism was a danger to democracy itself. He believed that for free enterprise to survive its battle with communism, it had to deliver broad-based prosperity.

Hoffman spearheaded the Committee for Economic Development (CED), an influential group of moderate business leaders. The CED argued that a high-wage, consumer-driven economy was not a threat to business but its greatest asset. They advocated for collaboration with labor unions and government, believing that a stable, prosperous society was in everyone's self-interest. This culture of moderation became so ingrained that in the 1950s, George Romney, then head of American Motors, felt so uncomfortable with his large bonuses that he voluntarily capped his own salary at $225,000, forfeiting hundreds of thousands of dollars. This era of enlightened self-interest, where executives saw themselves as "trustees of the common welfare," was a cornerstone of the post-war economic boom.

Narrator: By the 1960s, the coalition that had built the post-war prosperity began to splinter. The "old left," represented by the AFL-CIO under George Meany, had grown stagnant and insular. Meany famously expressed indifference to organizing new workers, focusing instead on protecting the comfortable position of existing union members. This left the labor movement ill-equipped to adapt to a changing economy.

At the same time, a "New Left" was emerging on college campuses. Inspired by thinkers like C. Wright Mills, students and young intellectuals began to challenge the status quo. The 1962 Port Huron Statement, a manifesto for this new movement, spoke eloquently about ending the Cold War and fighting for racial justice. However, as its opening line stated—"We are people of this generation, bred in at least modest comfort"—the New Left's focus was often on issues of personal fulfillment and psychic well-being. It championed vital causes but frequently failed to connect with the material concerns of working-class Americans, who were more worried about their paychecks and the safety of their neighborhoods than achieving authenticity. This growing disconnect created a political vacuum, leaving many traditional Democratic voters feeling ignored and unrepresented.

Narrator: As the left fractured, a new political force was coalescing on the right. The social turmoil of the 1960s—urban riots, anti-war protests, and a rising crime wave—created widespread anxiety. Politicians like Richard Nixon and George Wallace skillfully exploited these fears, reframing the central conflict in American life. The debate shifted from economics to culture.

Nixon built a powerful coalition by appealing to what he called the "silent majority"—working- and middle-class voters who felt alienated by the counterculture and disrespected by a political establishment they saw as elitist. He recognized that for these voters, concerns about "law and order" and traditional values were just as important, if not more so, than economic policy. This strategy successfully peeled away millions of voters from the New Deal Democratic coalition. The political divide was no longer primarily about the rich versus the poor; it was increasingly about a clash of lifestyles and worldviews, a realignment that would reshape American politics for decades.

Narrator: The economic crisis of the 1970s, with its punishing combination of high inflation and stagnant growth, discredited the post-war economic model. This created an opening for a new ideology that had been developing on the fringes: neoliberalism, championed by the Chicago School of economics. When Ronald Reagan was elected in 1980, these ideas moved to the center of American government.

The Reagan administration systematically dismantled the pillars of democratic capitalism. It passed massive tax cuts that overwhelmingly benefited the wealthy, aggressively pursued deregulation, and took a confrontational stance against labor. A defining moment came in 1981 when Reagan fired over 11,000 striking air traffic controllers, sending a clear signal to corporate America that the government would no longer protect unions. The result was a dramatic re-concentration of power and wealth. While the economy grew, the gains flowed almost exclusively to the top. For the majority of Americans, wages stagnated, and the promise of upward mobility faded, leading directly to the 50-50 coin flip of the American Dream that exists today.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from Ours Was the Shining Future is that the economy is not a force of nature; it is a human creation shaped by political power and deliberate choices. The era of shared prosperity from the 1940s to the 1970s was not an accident. It was built by policies that empowered workers, invested in the future, and required corporations to act with social responsibility. Likewise, the subsequent era of stagnation and inequality was the direct result of choices that systematically dismantled that framework in favor of unfettered markets.

Leonhardt’s analysis is more than a history lesson; it is a profound challenge to the idea that we are helpless in the face of economic forces. It suggests that reclaiming a future of broad-based prosperity requires more than just hoping for growth. It demands a conscious and sustained political effort to rebuild the institutions that ensure fairness and opportunity for all. The book leaves us with a critical question: Does our society still possess the political will to build a future that is shining for everyone, not just for a select few?