Will California nurture or strangle the golden goose of its economy?
During California's 174 years, it has undergone periodic and dramatic changes of economic personality.
Its admission to the union was largely driven by the gold rush, which temporarily supplanted the agriculture and cattle ranching that had been economic mainstays.
When the gold rush cooled in the late 19th century, farming and ranching resumed their central roles. It's hard to believe now, but Los Angeles County was the nation's most agriculturally productive county in the first decades of the 20th century.
The state's northern reaches developed a major timber industry, and oddly oil was first discovered in 1865 amid Humboldt County's dense forests, a historic fact perpetuated in the name of a tiny hamlet, Petrolia.
However, Southern California saw a much larger oil boom in the final years of the century, and California became the nation's biggest petroleum producer. Simultaneously, the movie industry blossomed in Southern California, thanks to its scenic settings and sunny weather and the desires of early movie moguls to escape from the East Coast's intolerant attitudes and legal disputes.
California's economy, still largely rooted in extracting resources from the earth, underwent a major change when the nation became embroiled in World War II. It became a staging point for the Pacific war, the site of numerous military training bases and an industrial powerhouse producing airplanes and other tools of war, such as ships.
California's central role in producing weaponry and training military personnel continued after the war because the United States soon found itself in a cold war with the Soviet Union, one aspect of which was a hot war in Korea and later another conflict in Southeast Asia.
California also saw postwar expansions with steel mills, petrochemical plants, auto assembly lines and multiple other factories. However, by the 1970s, California's heavy industry was shrinking as one-by-one the plants that had employed hundreds of thousands of workers shut down, with the last remaining major manufacturing industry, aerospace, drying up as the Cold War ended in the 1990s and Pentagon contracts disappeared.
Fortunately, military research contracts and Stanford University had spawned a new industry — digital technology — centered in the Santa Clara Valley south of San Francisco. For many decades, it was an agricultural center. Renamed Silicon Valley, it has anchored California's
economy ever since, generating immense wealth that percolated through other economic sectors.
California's economy may be undergoing another evolution. Silicon Valley's highflying past is giving way to a more uncertain future as companies shed thousands of workers and other states see tech industry growth.
California's past, present and uncertain future deserve intense political, media and academic attention because how its economy evolves will determine how well the state as a whole manages during the 21st century.
That's why a recent announcement that the Public Policy Institute of California is creating an economic research arm is important. Hopefully, the Economic Policy Center's research will persuade political and civic leaders to stop taking the state's economy for granted and reconsider policies that are strangling the golden goose.
However, the center's first paper — aimed at framing the existing economic picture — is not reassuring. It all but ignores the structural factors that threaten the economy, dwells on superficial effects, and shows a fondness for political mitigation of those effects rather than fixing the fundamentals.
More than a dozen governors have joined in opening a new and particularly cruel chapter in the GOP's ongoing attempt to be against anything the Biden White House supports.
The Republican governors are touting their rejection of millions of dollars in federal funding to feed low-income children during the summer, when school meals aren't available. They're apparently more eager for another chance to thumb their nose at the Biden administration even if it means depriving hungry children of food.
The Summer EBT, or Electronic Benefits Transfer program, provides pre-loaded debit cards that can be used to buy food at grocery stores, farmers markets and a few qualified retailers. The amount is modest: $40 per child per month, capped at $120 over the summer break. That's just about enough to provide milk and a few fresh fruits and vegetables — if you're a careful shopper.
States that sign up agree to pay half the administrative costs. The federal government pays the entire cost of the benefit, about $2.5 billion for 2024, and rest of the administrative costs. After being tested in several states, this is the first year the program will be available nationwide, and it is expected to be ongoing.
Yet, those such as Iowa Governor Kim Reynolds are willing to forego even these meager amounts. Reynolds, in a news release, stated that “An EBT card does nothing to promote nutrition at a time when childhood obesity has become an epidemic.” She said the program was “not sustainable,” and that it doesn't “provide long-term solutions for the issues impacting children and families.”
Perhaps not, but the program does go a long way toward filling kids' empty bellies over the long months when free- and reduced-price school breakfast and lunch — which many poor and low-income families rely on — are unavailable.
Reynolds' callous remarks also reinforce a terrible stereotype about children living in poverty, while also denying the sad reality that fresh meat, milk, fruit and vegetables are costly compared with junk carbs and heavily processed foods with little nutritive value.
And somehow, parents — treated by some of these same states as all-knowing, unerring sources when it comes to banning books and censoring curriculum — are considered too ignorant to make good food choices for their children.
Reynolds added that “if the Biden Administration and Congress want to make a real commitment to family well-being, they should invest in already existing programs and infrastructure at the state level and give us the flexibility to tailor them to our state's needs.” Of course, the last time Reynolds was given that flexibility, she diverted millions of dollars in 2023 American Rescue Plan funds to send Iowa National Guard troops to the Texas border.
8 million children denied
So far, 14 states, mostly in the Midwest and South, have joined Iowa in declining to participate. They include Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Idaho, Louisiana, Mississippi, Nebraska, Oklahoma, South Carolina, South Dakota, Texas, Vermont, Wyoming and Alaska.
The governors' decision could have staggering results: An estimated 8 million children could be affected in these states alone. Moreover, many are agricultural states whose farmers surely would like to supply the freshfood needs of those children.
In Iowa, the federal funding would been $29 million, which could help feed some 250,000 children over the summer. The blowback to Reynolds' initial remarks was fierce enough to prompt this walk-back from a state health and human services spokesperson, who said, “We did not indicate that the Summer EBT program was linked to obesity, however, a cash benefit card with very few limitations on purchases does not achieve direct access to healthy meals for school-age children.”
Perhaps state officials should talk with the Iowa Food Bank, which in November 2023 distributed a record 2.15 million pounds of food to food-insecure families across the state. Chief Executive Officer Michelle Book said at the time that “We see no end in sight.”
Food insecurity is different from hunger. Hunger can be abated by eating chips or a bowl of oatmeal. Food insecurity is the lack of safe, nutritious food needed to sustain life and health. Its close companion is malnutrition. The National Institutes of Health have, in fact, found a strong link between food insecurity and obesity.
According to the Food and Research Action Center, food insecurity is most pervasive and deepest in rural areas, and is highest in the South and Midwestern states.
Arkansas steps up
There are some bright spots: 35 governors, including 13 Republicans, have signed up. Arkansas Governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders said earlier this year that “making sure no Arkansan goes hungry, especially children, is a top concern for my administration. … Summer EBT promises to be an important new tool to give Arkansas children the food and nutrition they need.”
Sanders, former press secretary to President Donald Trump, is a staunch Republican. But she's not letting differences with the White House get in the way of her ability to help ensure better nutrition for her state's children.
Compare that with Nebraska Governor Jim Pillen, who haughtily declared at a news conference that “I don't believe in welfare.”
For the record, 1 in 10 Nebraskans lives in poverty, according to the University of Nebraska Omaha's Center for Public Affairs Research. The poverty rate for children below the age of 5 in 2022 was 14%. One in every nine poor Nebraskans was on government assistance in 2022.
Children, sadly, make lousy advocates because they can't vote. Pillen and the other governors should shed their cynical politics at least long enough to feed kids who may have few other options this summer.