Terry Bracy: Reclaiming democracy begins with confronting concentrated power

Stretching across the digital edition of my morning newspaper are photographs of a half-dozen billionaires who are, in many ways, helping to run the United States. That is a problem — not because they are extraordinarily wealthy, but because their largely unregulated wealth is being used to reshape our system of government. Outrage directed at the diminishing visage of Donald Trump may be justified, but it fails to fill in the big blank: How do we emancipate America from this mess and recapture the ideal of a government of, by, and for the people?

American history offers some guidance.

During the period of rapid industrialization and westward expansion following the Civil War, a new class of entrepreneurs with names like Rockefeller, Carnegie, and Mellon came to dominate American markets. Over time, they became known as the Robber Barons because much of their extraordinary wealth was built through the exploitation of labor and the corruption of government. Many owners consolidated into "trusts" that eliminated competition, enabling a handful of powerful interests to control supply, suppress workers, and set prices. These practices, coupled with widespread child labor, laid the groundwork for the Progressive Era reforms that followed.

Not wishing to be remembered solely as enemies of society, Rockefeller, Carnegie, Mellon, and other industrialists eventually invested heavily in public works, universities, libraries, museums and charitable foundations. Many of those contributions continue to be honored today.

The Sherman Antitrust Act of 1890 preceded many of the worst corporate abuses that followed, but it became the legal foundation that enabled Theodore Roosevelt and his successor, William Howard Taft, to break up monopolistic trusts and impose meaningful regulation on the American marketplace. Wealthy industrialists initially believed Roosevelt's "Square Deal" was little more than campaign rhetoric. Instead, Roosevelt shocked many of his supporters by launching an aggressive era of trust-busting, labor reform and corporate regulation.

More than a century later, the Sherman Antitrust Act also formed part of the legal basis for the landmark Microsoft antitrust case. It may once again provide a fruitful framework for addressing the enormous concentrations of economic power that now dominate sectors ranging from technology to agriculture and communications.

Several decades later, another Roosevelt offered a different model for the kind of leadership the nation needed. During the Great Depression, Franklin D. Roosevelt fundamentally reimagined the role of government by creating programs and institutions that touched nearly every sector of American life. Among them were Social Security, the Agricultural Adjustment Act, the Tennessee Valley Authority and the Securities and Exchange Commission.

He also put millions of unemployed Americans to work constructing many of the nation's most enduring public works projects, including the Hoover Dam, the San Francisco–Oakland Bay Bridge, the Lincoln Tunnel, and improvements to countless parks, roads, schools and public buildings.

The greatest obstacle to Roosevelt's sweeping reforms was a mossback Supreme Court that remained deeply resistant to government intervention in the economy — even as unemployment approached 20%. To many on the Court, everything appeared acceptable so long as the country clubs remained full on Saturday evenings.

Ultimately, little can be accomplished in America's constitutional system when an obdurate Supreme Court stands in the way. After winning a landslide reelection in 1936, Roosevelt took his battle directly to the judiciary. He introduced the Judicial Procedures Reform Bill — better known as the court-packing plan. In a series of Fireside Chats, Roosevelt argued that the president should be allowed to appoint one additional justice for every sitting justice over the age of 70, potentially expanding the Court from nine members to as many as fifteen.

The proposal never became law. Yet the political pressure generated by a confrontation with a widely popular president coincided with a dramatic shift in the Court's jurisprudence. The Court reversed its opposition to key New Deal measures, including Social Security and minimum wage legislation.

Today, many believe that responsibility for our current system of governance rests heavily with Chief Justice John Roberts and the Court's conservative majority. Numerous decisions could be cited, but two stand above the rest: Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission and Trump v. United States.

The first dramatically reshaped campaign finance law by equating certain political spending with protected speech, greatly expanding the influence of wealthy individuals and organizations in American elections. The second significantly broadened presidential immunity from criminal prosecution for certain official acts, raising profound questions about executive accountability.

Corruption in government has a way of burrowing in like a deer tick. Once embedded, it spreads through institutions and infects the people and programs it touches. It is difficult to think of many members of Trump's administration whose public stature has not been diminished by the experience.

Winning control of Congress is an essential first step. But the next step — the one that may ultimately matter most — is to turn the nation's attention toward the branch of government housed across the street from the Capitol.

When Americans ask how we reclaim our democracy and fill in the big blank, the answer may well begin with two words: Supreme Court.