Letters from Tomis

Introduction

Social class remains a fundamental concept for understanding power and inequality in society, and Marxist theory provides one of the most enduring frameworks for its analysis. Marxism approaches class not simply as a demographic label or income category, but as a relation of power rooted in the economy – specifically, one’s relationship to the means of production and role in the labor process. In contemporary discussions, Marxist thinkers have expanded and updated classical theory to address new social conditions, from the globalization of capitalism to the rise of precarious employment. At the same time, examining class in the United States today requires looking at concrete data on income, wealth, and occupations to see how classes are defined and stratified in practice. Class structures are not static: they have evolved significantly since the end of World War II through periods of postwar prosperity, neoliberal restructuring, and financialization. Moreover, class society is buttressed by a set of dominant ideologies – beliefs in meritocracy, individualism, and the “American Dream” – that serve to justify and legitimize the prevailing class hierarchy. This essay will survey key themes in contemporary Marxist class theory, analyze current class definitions in the U.S. with supporting data, trace the historical development of class structure since WWII, and critically examine the ideological narratives that uphold class structures in America. The goal is to provide a comprehensive, graduate-level understanding of how Marxist theory interprets class in the modern era and how those classes manifest and perpetuate themselves within U.S. society.

Key Themes and Thinkers in Contemporary Marxist Theory

Contemporary Marxist theorists have built upon the foundations laid by Karl Marx and later Marxists to address the complexities of modern class relations. Four key themes stand out in recent Marxist theory on social classes: class reproduction, state power, global capitalism, and precarity. Each theme has attracted influential thinkers who have enriched Marxist analysis for the twenty-first century.

Class Reproduction and Social Reproduction

Class reproduction refers to the processes by which class positions and inequalities are carried on from generation to generation. Marx himself noted how the conditions of the working class tend to recreate themselves over time, but contemporary theorists have greatly expanded this idea. Sociologist Pierre Bourdieu, for example, although not a Marxist in the strict sense, introduced concepts like cultural capital and habitus that explain how the children of affluent or educated classes inherit advantages in tastes, skills, and networks that help them maintain their class status. This aligns with a Marxist view that the dominant class perpetuates its dominance not only through wealth, but through culture and education. Marxist analysts Samuel Bowles and Herbert Gintis made a classic study of how the education system in capitalist societies reinforces class stratification: schools socialize working-class children to accept discipline and hierarchy, preparing them for lower-status labor, while elite schooling grooms children of the bourgeoisie for leadership – a theory known as the “correspondence principle.” In a similar vein, Louis Althusser’s theory of Ideological State Apparatuses highlighted institutions like schools, churches, and media as sites where the ideology of the ruling class is reproduced, helping to inculcate in each generation an acceptance of the existing class structure.

In recent years, social reproduction theory – advanced by Marxist-feminist thinkers like Lise Vogel, Silvia Federici, and Tithi Bhattacharya – has further deepened the concept of class reproduction by examining gender and familial relations. Social reproduction theory emphasizes that the daily and generational reproduction of labor power (through activities like child-rearing, caring for the sick and elderly, and maintaining households) is essential to the functioning of capitalism. Much of this work has historically been unpaid or underpaid and disproportionately performed by women. These theorists argue that capitalism relies on this hidden labor to sustain the workforce from one day to the next and one generation to the next. Thus, class reproduction is not an automatic process – it is actively supported by social institutions and unequal gender relations. By bringing such perspectives into Marxist theory, contemporary thinkers underscore that class society is continually re-made through both economic and cultural practices, rather than being a once-and-for-all division.

State Power and Class Domination

Another key theme in contemporary Marxist theory is the role of state power in class relations. Classical Marxism viewed the state as an instrument of the ruling class – famously, Marx and Engels in The Communist Manifesto described the state as “a committee for managing the common affairs of the whole bourgeoisie.” In the 20th century, Marxist theorists have debated and refined this view. Ralph Miliband and Nicos Poulantzas engaged in a well-known debate in the 1960s–70s over whether the state serves the capitalist class primarily because elites occupy the decision-making positions (Miliband’s argument) or because the state’s structure and imperatives inherently make it function to preserve capitalism (Poulantzas’ structuralist view). The upshot of such debates is the idea that the state has “relative autonomy”: it may not simply take direct orders from the wealthy, and indeed it must sometimes act against the short-term interests of individual capitalists, but it ultimately tends to uphold the long-term conditions for capital accumulation and class dominance.

Contemporary Marxist analysis of the state often incorporates the insights of Italian Marxist Antonio Gramsci. Gramsci introduced the concept of cultural hegemony – the notion that the ruling class maintains its control not just through coercion but by manufacturing consent and cultural leadership. According to Gramsci, the state in a broad sense includes “political society” (government, law, police, military – the apparatus of force) and “civil society” (institutions like schools, churches, media, and associations where ideological influence is exercised). Modern Marxists see the capitalist state as a complex of institutions that both coerce and persuade the population in ways that stabilize the class system. For example, the police and courts protect private property relations and quell dissent (the repressive side of state power), while public schools, mass media, and mainstream political parties help shape a worldview in which capitalist relations seem natural and just (the ideological side of state power). The American Marxist historian Howard Zinn once quipped that “governments lie” to serve their interests – a stark reminder that the state often propagates narratives favorable to the powerful. In the United States, the government presents itself as a neutral arbiter serving “the national interest,” but Marxist theorists point out that what is considered the national interest often aligns with the interests of big corporations and the wealthy. Policies from tax laws to labor regulations tend to reflect the balance of class forces, and in recent decades that balance has tilted heavily toward capital. In short, contemporary Marxists regard the state as a crucial instrument through which class domination is organized and maintained, even as they analyze the internal dynamics and occasional contradictions within state policies.

Global Capitalism and Imperialism

A third major theme in contemporary Marxist theory is the analysis of global capitalism and its impact on class structures. Marxists have long been concerned with the global dimensions of capitalism – Karl Marx wrote about the world market and how capital must constantly expand. In the early 20th century, thinkers like Vladimir Lenin, Rosa Luxemburg, and others developed theories of imperialism, arguing that the advanced capitalist countries exported capital to colonies and weaker nations, exploiting their labor and resources to sustain profits. This laid the groundwork for later Marxist approaches to global inequality. In the mid-20th century, dependency theory and world-systems theory emerged (with theorists such as André Gunder Frank, Samir Amin, and Immanuel Wallerstein), dividing the world into “core” capitalist nations and “peripheral” regions. These theories posited a kind of global class structure: wealthy countries form a core that concentrates high-paying industries, capital, and power (analogous to a global bourgeoisie), while poorer countries are relegated to supplying raw materials or cheap labor (analogous to a global proletariat role), creating a persistent dependency and underdevelopment in the latter. While not all dependency or world-systems theorists framed it exactly in Marxist class terms, the implication was that class exploitation happens on a world scale, not just within individual nations.

Today’s Marxist scholars continue examining how globalization has transformed class relations. One observation is the rise of a transnational capitalist class – top corporate executives, financiers, and investors whose interests are tied to global capital flows rather than any single nation. Sociologists like Leslie Sklair and William I. Robinson argue that this transnational elite wields enormous power through multinational corporations and institutions like the IMF and World Bank, often at the expense of working classes worldwide. The globalization of production (for example, moving manufacturing to low-wage countries) has created new challenges for labor: workers in different countries find themselves pitted against each other in a global “race to the bottom” in wages and working conditions. Contemporary Marxist theorist David Harvey has written extensively on how capital’s search for profit leads to geographic expansion and reorganization – he uses terms like “spatial fix” to describe how capitalism resolves crises by opening up new regions to exploitation, and “accumulation by dispossession” to describe how assets (land, resources, public enterprises) are seized or privatized globally for profit. Under global capitalism, class struggle also takes a global form: for instance, immigration can be seen partly as a result of global inequalities, and immigrants often enter precarious positions in the class structure of the U.S. or Europe, blurring national working-class boundaries. In summary, modern Marxist theory emphasizes that the capitalist class structure must be understood globally, with rich nations and elites exploiting peripheral nations and global labor, leading to vast international disparities as well as internal class changes within each country.

Precarity and the Changing Nature of Work

The final key theme to consider is precarity – the growing precariousness of work and livelihoods under late capitalism. In recent decades, especially since the late 20th century, stable long-term employment with decent wages and benefits (often symbolized by the mid-century unionized factory job) has given way to more insecure, temporary, and flexible forms of labor. Terms like “precarious work,” the “gig economy,” and the “precariat” have become common in analyses of contemporary capitalism. Many Marxist and leftist thinkers have explored what this shift means for class structure. British economist Guy Standing popularized the term “precariat” to describe a new class-in-formation: people in insecure jobs, with little predictability or protections, ranging from temp-agency workers and delivery app drivers to adjunct professors and contract professionals. Standing argued the precariat has distinct experiences and might become a new dangerous class if its frustrations are not addressed. Some Marxists, however, debate whether the precariat is truly a separate class or simply a segment of the working class under severe stress. They point out that precarious employment – low wages, uncertain hours, lack of benefits, risk of sudden job loss – has long been a feature of capitalism (Marx’s own writings on the industrial proletariat highlighted the precarious life of workers subject to layoffs and wage cuts). In this view, what we see today is a resurgence and broadening of precarious conditions to more of the workforce, even in wealthy countries, as a result of capitalist strategies to maximize profit.

Marxist analysts link precarity to several developments: the weakening of labor unions, outsourcing of jobs, technological changes that enable on-demand labor, and the ideology of labor market “flexibility” championed by neoliberal economists. The result is what some call the “casualization” of labor – more part-time, contract, and gig work in lieu of stable employment. Sociologist Richard Sennett, while not explicitly Marxist, has described how the shift to flexible capitalism erodes workers’ sense of long-term narrative or security, impacting their personal lives and identities. Marxist scholars would add that precarity is a deliberate outcome of power shifts: capital has gained the upper hand over labor since the 1980s, allowing employers to impose less secure working conditions. In Marxian terms, the “reserve army of labor” – a pool of the unemployed and underemployed – has been globalized and used to discipline workers everywhere: if a worker demands higher pay or stability, an employer can often find a cheaper or more pliable worker elsewhere. The concept of precarity also overlaps with class reproduction: when people cannot count on steady jobs, their ability to plan families, careers, or maintain communities is undermined, potentially reproducing poverty and insecurity for the next generation. In summary, the focus on precarity in contemporary Marxist discourse highlights how the proletarian condition itself may be changing, with job insecurity becoming a defining feature of class experience under modern capitalism. This theme ties back to the others – it is a consequence of global capitalist competition and state policies that favor capital flexibility, and it poses new questions about class consciousness and unity among a fragmented workforce.

Class Structure and Definitions in the United States Today

Having surveyed the theoretical landscape, we turn now to the class structure of the contemporary United States and how class is defined in practice. The concept of class in the U.S. can be approached in different ways. In everyday language and mainstream sociology, people often speak of upper, middle, and lower classes (or variations like upper-middle, working class, etc.), usually based on a mix of income, occupation, education, and lifestyle. In Marxist terms, class is defined by one’s relationship to ownership and production – most critically, the capitalist class (or bourgeoisie) who own businesses, major property, and financial assets, versus the working class (or proletariat) who must sell their labor to survive. Many Marxists would also acknowledge a “middle” stratum that might include small business owners (petty bourgeoisie) and managers or professionals who have relatively privileged positions despite not owning large enterprises. Let us examine the current U.S. class structure through both lenses, backed by recent data on income and wealth distribution.

Upper Class / Capitalist Class: At the top of the pyramid is a relatively small upper class – essentially the wealthy elite. In Marxist analysis, this group corresponds to the capitalist class: those who derive significant income from ownership of assets (such as businesses, stocks, real estate) and who wield substantial economic power. In the United States, this is often operationalized as the top 1% or so of households. As of the mid-2020s, data show that the concentration of wealth in this upper tier is enormous. The top 1% of Americans own roughly 30% of the nation’s wealth, and the top 10% own around two-thirds to 70% of all wealth. By contrast, the bottom 50% of the population owns only about 2% of wealth – practically a rounding error relative to the fortunes of the top tier. This stark imbalance means that a tiny capitalist elite controls a vastly disproportionate share of resources, investments, and influence. Income data likewise reflect the divide: households in the top 5% earn in the high six figures (hundreds of thousands per year) and those at the absolute top 1% often earn millions annually, whether through salaries of top executives or returns on investments. These are the CEOs, major investors, heirs of large fortunes, and other “high net worth” individuals. They not only have lavish lifestyles but also significant sway over the economy and politics (for instance, through campaign contributions or ownership of media). It’s worth noting that even within this upper class, there are layers – some sociologists distinguish the “upper-upper class” (old money, multi-generational wealth) from the “lower-upper class” (newly rich entrepreneurs or professionals), but from a broad perspective, all constitute the capitalist class who have a fundamentally different economic position than the rest of society.

Middle Classes: The term middle class is famously slippery in American usage – a majority of Americans like to identify as middle class even when their incomes and lifestyles vary greatly. Broadly, the middle class includes those who have a degree of economic security and comfort but are not truly wealthy or powerful on a societal scale. In more granular class models, we can break this into an upper-middle class and a lower-middle class, or into the middle class vs. working class depending on definitions. Generally, upper-middle class refers to highly educated professionals and managers – people with advanced degrees, relatively high salaries (though not on the level of the richest 1%), and significant cultural capital. These might be doctors, lawyers, professors, engineers, corporate managers, small business owners, and others who often have incomes that place them in roughly the top 15-20% of households, albeit not in the top fractions of a percent that define the true upper class. They tend to have comfortable lifestyles, often owning homes, sending children to college, and having some investments, though they usually still work for a living (they are employees or self-employed professionals rather than living off passive ownership alone). The lower-middle class (sometimes just called “middle class” in everyday speech) includes people with more modest white-collar jobs or skilled trades: office workers, teachers, nurses, technicians, salespeople, and the like. They typically have moderate incomes that allow for a decent standard of living – often able to afford the basics like housing, car, some savings, and discretionary spending – but they are one or two missed paychecks or medical emergencies away from financial stress. Many in this group might have a college degree or some college education.

It’s useful to ground these definitions in numbers. The Pew Research Center and other analysts define the middle-income range in the U.S. roughly as households earning between two-thirds and two times the median household income (adjusted for household size). By that definition, for a typical family of three, “middle class” in 2022 meant about $56,000 to $170,000 of annual household income. Using that metric, about half of American households fall in the middle range. Lower-income households are those earning less than roughly $56k for a family of three, and upper-income households more than $170k for that family size. Of course, cost of living and family size matter – $60,000 for a family in a high-cost city might feel quite constrained, whereas the same income for a single person in a small town could go much further. But these figures give a ballpark. In surveys, around 50-55% of Americans self-identify as “middle class” or “upper-middle class.” Interestingly, very few Americans call themselves “upper class” – only around 2% will admit to that label – even though a larger share are technically in the top income brackets. Instead, many of the affluent prefer “upper-middle class.” Meanwhile, about one-third of Americans identify as working class, and roughly 10-15% might call themselves lower class or poor. This subjective identification underscores a facet of American ideology: people are hesitant to place themselves at the top or bottom, gravitating to the comfortable middle identity.

Working Class and Lower Class: In Marxist terms, the working class comprises everyone who does not own sufficient productive assets and thus must work for someone else to earn a living – from factory operatives to service workers to salaried clerical staff. In American vernacular, “working class” often specifically evokes blue-collar occupations (manual labor, industrial work, trades) and sometimes lower-paid service jobs. Many people who might technically be working class (say, a call center employee or an elementary school teacher who depends on a salary) might instead identify as middle class due to cultural factors or income level. But if we think structurally, the vast majority of Americans – on the order of 70% or more – are wage or salary earners who have little control over their workplace and have to work to survive. Within this broad working class, some have higher status or pay (a unionized electrician might earn more than a non-union bank teller, for instance), which is why distinctions like “upper working class” or “lower-middle class” can blur. Nonetheless, a significant segment of the U.S. class structure can be characterized as working class in terms of both income and economic security. These are people often living paycheck to paycheck, with jobs that may be physically demanding or routine, and typically with limited authority in the workplace. Many do not have college degrees (though increasingly, having a degree does not guarantee a middle-class lifestyle either).

At the bottom of the hierarchy is a lower class or underclass, often defined by poverty and economic insecurity. This group includes the unemployed, those working in the lowest paid and most unstable jobs, and people who rely on public assistance to get by. As of recent years, the U.S. poverty rate hovers around 11-12% of the population (tens of millions of people living under the official poverty line). The poverty line itself is quite low (around $27,000 annual income for a family of four in 2023), so there are many more people above that threshold who still struggle to meet basic needs. The concept of an “underclass” gained popularity in sociological discourse in the late 20th century to describe communities trapped in multigenerational poverty with little access to jobs – though the term is controversial because it can carry a stigma. Marxists might refer to a segment of the poor as the lumpenproletariat, a term Marx used for those outside the formal economy (beggars, criminals, etc.), but contemporary usage is careful with such terms due to their derogatory history. In any case, by any measure, the United States today exhibits a steep pyramid of class: a small wealthy elite, a somewhat larger upper-middle stratum, a broad middle/working class, and a significant population of working poor and impoverished people.

Wealth Distribution and Occupation: Beyond income, class can be understood through wealth (accumulated assets) and occupation (type of work). Wealth in the U.S. is even more unevenly distributed than income. As mentioned, the bottom half of Americans have virtually no net wealth on average (many are in debt, in fact), whereas the top 1% have amassed trillions of dollars in assets. This wealth disparity matters because wealth provides security and political influence, and it also can be transferred across generations, solidifying class positions. Occupation-wise, the U.S. has seen a long-term shift from manufacturing to service employment. In 2025, roughly 80% of American workers are in service-providing industries, while only around 8% are in manufacturing (compared to mid-20th century when a far larger share worked in factories and production). The decline of manufacturing and unionized blue-collar jobs has implications for class: many of those jobs used to offer middle-class wages for people with modest education. Their loss has contributed to a squeeze on the working class, pushing some industrial workers into lower-paying service roles. Meanwhile, the professional and technical occupations have expanded, which swells the ranks of the middle class (at least in identity). However, even many service jobs (like retail, food service, care work) are low-paid and precarious, reinforcing a large low-wage workforce.

In summary, current class definitions in the U.S. can be seen through a dual lens. On one hand, popular discourse uses terms like upper, middle, and lower class, often anchored to income brackets and job types. On the other hand, a Marxist perspective draws a sharper line between the small capitalist class (who own and rule) and the large working class (who labor and follow orders), with a gradation of middle layers in between. Quantitative data on income and wealth underscore just how unequal the structure is, even if Americans often psychologically downplay class differences. The stage is now set to explore how this structure came to be – specifically, how class formations have changed from the mid-20th century to today.

Evolution of Class Structures Since World War II

The class structure of the United States in 2025 did not emerge overnight; it is the product of historical developments and shifts in economic policy. Since the end of World War II, the U.S. has gone through distinct phases that have shaped class relations: the postwar boom, the neoliberal turn, and the era of financialization and globalization. Each period altered the balance between labor and capital and reconfigured the nature of class membership.

The Postwar Boom and the Rise of a Middle Class (1945–1970s)

In the aftermath of WWII, the United States entered a quarter-century of unprecedented economic growth and broadly shared prosperity. This era, roughly from the late 1940s to the early 1970s, is often called the “Golden Age of Capitalism” or simply the postwar boom. Key features of this period included rapid industrial expansion, high productivity growth, rising wages, and relatively low inequality. The government played a significant role in sustaining demand (through programs like the GI Bill, housing subsidies, and infrastructure projects) and in regulating the economy (banks were constrained by the Glass-Steagall Act, labor relations were governed partly by the New Deal framework encouraging collective bargaining, etc.). During this time, the United States saw the expansion of a mass middle class, something Marx might not have predicted in such form. Strong labor unions were central to this development: union membership reached its peak in the 1950s, with about one in three workers unionized. Unions negotiated higher wages, benefits like health insurance and pensions, and better working conditions for millions of workers, which had ripple effects even on non-union employers (to attract labor, many followed similar standards). As a result, a blue-collar manufacturing worker in, say, the auto industry or steel industry could enjoy a lifestyle that included owning a home, a car, taking vacations, and sending children to college – markers of middle-class status. This blurring of lines between the traditional working class and middle class lifestyles led to many industrial workers identifying as middle class.

Economically, the distribution of income became more equal than either before or after. Economists refer to the Great Compression – the compression of income inequality – that happened around WWII and continued into the postwar decades. The top 1%’s share of national income shrank dramatically from pre-Depression heights, while the share going to the bottom and middle increased. Productivity and wages rose in tandem; as businesses profited from growth, workers also saw real wage gains year after year. This era also saw historically high tax rates on the wealthy (the top marginal income tax rate was over 90% in the 1950s), which, along with corporate taxes, helped fund public investment and social programs. The outcome was that class differences, while still existent, were muted relative to earlier times: poverty rates fell (especially in the 1960s due to the War on Poverty programs), and more people felt economically secure. Sociologist C. Wright Mills in 1951 noted the emergence of a large “new middle class” of salaried white-collar employees alongside the old middle class of small business owners. However, it is important to note this broadly shared prosperity had limits and exclusions: racial inequality was stark (many of these gains were concentrated among white Americans, as people of color often faced job discrimination, lower pay, and exclusion from suburban housing due to redlining), and gender norms generally kept women out of the highest-paying work, confining many to unpaid domestic roles or lower-tier jobs. Still, by the late 1960s, the U.S. class structure could be imagined as a kind of diamond shape – a big bulge of people in the middle economically, fewer very rich and (thanks to welfare programs and high employment) somewhat fewer extremely poor than before.

The Neoliberal Turn and Growing Inequality (1980s–2000s)

The postwar golden age came to an end in the 1970s. A combination of factors – economic and political – led to what we now call the neoliberal era, roughly starting in the late 1970s and solidifying in the 1980s under President Ronald Reagan (and paralleled by Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher in the UK, among others). The 1970s saw stagflation (stagnant growth plus high inflation), oil crises, and increased global competition (as Germany and Japan’s industries caught up). The capitalist elite and pro-market policymakers responded with a set of strategies to restore profitability: deregulation, attacks on organized labor, tax cuts, and a general shift toward freer markets and smaller government role in social welfare. This shift is termed “neoliberal” – essentially a resurgence of 19th-century liberal ideas of unfettered markets, but now applied in a late-20th-century context.

Class relations changed profoundly in the neoliberal era. Labor’s power declined sharply while capital’s power rose. A symbolic starting point was the breaking of the air traffic controllers’ union (PATCO) in 1981 by Reagan, which signaled to employers that union-busting and hardline tactics would face little resistance from the government. Union membership fell precipitously: from about 20% of U.S. workers in 1980 it slid to around 10% by the early 2000s (and even lower in the private sector alone, around 6% today). With unions weakened, the bargaining power of workers eroded, and wage growth for the average worker essentially stalled. From roughly 1980 onward, productivity in the U.S. continued to rise (meaning the economy kept becoming more efficient and output per worker grew), but real wages for non-supervisory workers barely budged when adjusted for inflation. The benefits of economic growth were increasingly captured by the top. Indeed, income inequality started climbing dramatically. Where the top 1% had perhaps 8-10% of national income in the 1970s, their share rose to about 20% or more by the 2010s – approaching the high levels of the 1920s. CEOs and financial professionals saw their salaries and bonuses skyrocket, creating a widening gap between executive pay and the average worker’s pay (CEO-to-worker pay ratios that were maybe 30:1 in the 1970s grew to 300:1 or more in large firms by the 2000s).

The neoliberal period also involved significant deindustrialization and offshoring. Many manufacturing jobs that had sustained the mid-century working class were automated or relocated abroad (for example, the steel and textile industries shrank, and new factories were opened in Mexico, China, and other lower-wage countries). Whole regions, like the Rust Belt cities of the Midwest and Northeast, lost economic base and saw rising unemployment and urban decay. The workers who lost those union factory jobs often had to take lower-paying service jobs if they found work at all. At the same time, new jobs were created in the service sector and in technology, but these were polarized: a relatively small number of high-skilled, high-paying jobs (e.g. in finance, tech, or specialized services) and a vast number of low-paid jobs (in retail, hospitality, food service, healthcare support, etc.). Middle-class jobs that did not require higher education became harder to find, contributing to a sense of a “shrinking middle class.” Statistically, the share of income going to the “middle” 60% of households declined, while the share going to the top 20% increased. Social mobility – the chance to move up from one’s class of birth – which Americans always believed in, did not markedly improve and by some measures worsened: by the early 21st century, a child born in a low-income family had a smaller chance of reaching a top income bracket in the U.S. than in many European countries, undermining the narrative of the U.S. as uniquely fluid in class structure.

Politically, neoliberal ideology justified these changes by arguing that a freer market would benefit everyone through trickle-down economics, but in practice the gains were highly concentrated. Key policy moments included the sweeping tax reforms of the 1980s that cut top marginal income tax rates from 70% down to 28%, and reduced taxes on capital gains and corporations – all boosting after-tax incomes of the wealthy. Meanwhile, government spending shifted: there were attempts to cut welfare benefits (e.g. the 1996 welfare reform) and a general stigmatization of dependency on government aid, which affected the poor. So the class structure by the 1990s was looking more like an hourglass or triangle with a wide base and narrow top: significant poverty and low-income population at the bottom, a middle that felt less secure than before (with two-income households becoming the norm to maintain living standards), and an expanding wealthy elite at the top reaping outsized rewards. The term “working poor” gained currency to describe people who had jobs yet remained in poverty due to low wages and limited hours – a situation that became more common as secure jobs were replaced by part-time or temp work.

Financialization and the 21st-Century Economy

From the late 1990s into the 2000s and beyond, another trend intertwined with neoliberal policies: financialization. Financialization refers to the growing dominance of financial markets, institutions, and motives in the economy. Profits increasingly came from financial transactions rather than the production of goods, and large non-financial corporations also shifted their focus to stock prices and shareholder value. The finance, insurance, and real estate (sometimes abbreviated “FIRE”) sectors ballooned as a share of GDP and as a source of billionaire fortunes. For class structure, financialization had several effects. It created a class of financiers – investment bankers, hedge fund managers, venture capitalists – who became some of the richest individuals, often earning more in bonuses and capital gains than industrial CEOs did from making tangible products. It also changed corporate behavior in ways that often hurt workers: for example, companies under pressure from financial analysts to maximize quarterly profits would resort to cost-cutting measures like layoffs, outsourcing, or squeezing wages and benefits, further weakening job security even in profitable firms.

The early 21st century saw two major boom-and-bust cycles fueled by finance: the dot-com bubble around 2000 and the housing mortgage bubble in the mid-2000s. The 2008 financial crisis and subsequent Great Recession were pivotal. In the lead-up, banks and financial actors had extended risky loans and created exotic financial instruments that eventually imploded. When the bubble burst, millions of Americans lost jobs, and millions lost their homes in the foreclosure crisis – wiping out wealth, especially for working-class and middle-class families (with Black and Latino families hit particularly hard due to predatory lending). The government’s response, however, largely protected the financial system – massive bailouts for banks and emergency measures by the Federal Reserve propped up Wall Street, while relief for homeowners and workers was more limited. This episode underlined the class dynamics at play: the “too big to fail” institutions (and by extension their executives and shareholders) were shielded by the state, whereas ordinary people bore the brunt of the recession in unemployment and lost wealth. Post-2008, the recovery saw a further concentration of wealth. Quantitative easing and rising stock markets inflated asset values, benefiting those who owned stocks (primarily the upper class), while wage growth remained subdued for labor. By the 2010s, inequality in America had reached levels comparable to the 1920s. Thomas Piketty’s famous research highlighted that the top 0.1% was capturing a huge share of income and wealth gains.

The class structure in the 21st century U.S. has also been shaped by technological changes and the gig economy. Tech companies became major employers and creators of wealth – think of the new billionaire class from Silicon Valley – but tech also introduced labor models like gig work (e.g. Uber, Lyft, food delivery platforms) where workers are nominally “independent contractors” with no job security or benefits. This is financialization intersecting with precarity: algorithmic platforms managed by wealthy tech entrepreneurs, employing large numbers of drivers or task-doers as needed, often at low pay. While convenient for consumers and profitable for owners, this model leaves many workers in a precarious class position, lacking the stability and rights of traditional employment.

Another aspect since WWII is how public policy and social movements affected class. For instance, the civil rights movement dismantled legal segregation and opened up new opportunities for some Black Americans, contributing to the growth of a Black middle class especially in government, education, and some industries by the late 20th century. However, it did not fully resolve economic disparities – racial wealth and income gaps remain wide, indicating that class and race intersect in the U.S. Such intersections mean that changes in class structure don’t impact all groups equally. The feminist movement brought more women into the paid workforce and into higher professions, changing family economics (dual-earner households became common). Yet women still often face a pay gap and are overrepresented in lower-paid caregiving occupations, reflecting a class and gender overlap. These shifts highlight that class evolution isn’t purely an economic story; it’s also about which groups gain access to class mobility and which remain marginalized.

In summary, since WWII the United States has gone from a period of relatively egalitarian growth (when the spoils of economic expansion were more widely shared and a broad middle class prospered) to an era of intensified inequality and class polarization under neoliberalism and financialization. The middle class that was once celebrated as the backbone of America has been hollowed out to a degree, with many of those former middle-income jobs disappearing or declining in quality. A small wealthy class has consolidated extraordinary wealth and influence, the working class has been squeezed by stagnant wages and job insecurity, and the poorest have often been left with a thin safety net. These transformations did not happen by accident but through deliberate policy choices, global economic forces, and class struggles (won largely by the capitalist side in recent decades).

Ideological Foundations and the Legitimation of Class Structure

A critical part of understanding class is not just looking at economics or policy, but also examining the ideologies that help sustain or challenge the class structure. In the United States, a set of powerful ideological narratives has traditionally supported and legitimized the existence of class inequalities. Chief among these are the belief in meritocracy, the emphasis on rugged individualism, and the mythos of the “American Dream.” These ideas are deeply embedded in American culture and have been continually reinforced by institutions, from schools and workplaces to media and politics. A Marxist analysis pays close attention to such ideologies, seeing them as part of the “superstructure” that serves the interests of the ruling class by shaping how people think about inequality and their own place in society.

Meritocracy is the belief that social and economic rewards naturally go to those who are most talented and hardworking. It posits that society is essentially a level playing field – everyone has opportunities, and outcomes are determined by individual merit (ability + effort). This idea has a long history, but in the American context it is often taken for granted that the U.S. is a meritocratic society. People are taught that through education and perseverance, anyone can “make it.” The corollary is that if someone is rich, they must have earned it through their superior merit (brains, ingenuity, work ethic), and if someone is poor, it must be due to a lack of effort or skill on their part. Meritocracy as an ideology thus justifies existing class positions by attributing them to fair causes. From a young age, students are instilled with meritocratic ideals – think of school awards, honor rolls, the narrative that college is accessible to all who work hard, and that those who excel will be rewarded. In the workplace, the ideology shows up in “rags to riches” stories and the glamorization of self-made billionaires. The fact that real social mobility is limited (for instance, statistically, a child of the bottom fifth income has a relatively low chance of rising to the top fifth) is often glossed over by these anecdotes of success.

Marxist and critical thinkers point out that meritocracy can be a myth that masks inherited advantage. For example, wealthier families can afford better schools or neighborhoods, giving their children a head start – so when those children succeed, it’s partly due to their class background, not pure individual merit. Yet the ideology encourages people to see the outcome as deserved. By focusing on individual stories, meritocracy talk distracts from structural barriers (like underfunded schools in poor areas or discrimination in hiring). It also tends to blame individuals for their own economic difficulties, rather than questioning systemic issues. In this way, meritocracy as an ideology reduces the likelihood of class consciousness or collective action – people may feel their failures are personal faults, not something that could be addressed by changing the system.

Closely tied to meritocratic belief is American individualism. American culture highly values individual freedom, self-reliance, and personal responsibility. These values have positive aspects, but in the context of class, they often translate into a view that everyone should “lift themselves up by their bootstraps.” The idea of the “self-made man” (or person) is celebrated – from the 19th-century tales of entrepreneur Andrew Carnegie or inventor Thomas Edison, to modern tech figures like Steve Jobs or Elon Musk. The flip side is a tendency to view the social welfare state or collective solutions skeptically, as they might be seen as encouraging dependency or undermining personal responsibility. This individualistic frame makes it harder to see the ways in which class is a collective condition: for example, a person’s low wage might not be because of their individual failing but because their entire sector pays low wages due to weak labor bargaining power. Yet individualism might suggest that person simply needs to find a better job or work harder.

American individualism and meritocracy both feed into the overarching narrative of the American Dream. The American Dream, famously defined by writer James Truslow Adams in 1931, is the ideal that anyone, regardless of starting point, can achieve success and upward mobility through effort and virtue. It’s encapsulated in imagery like the immigrant arriving with nothing and becoming a prosperous entrepreneur, or the humble beginnings of a future president or magnate. Politicians across the spectrum frequently invoke the American Dream as a unifying national ethos. This narrative has been incredibly potent in winning the loyalty of the working class to the system – if one believes the American Dream, one is less likely to resent the rich (after all, one might join them someday) and less likely to see society in terms of fixed classes. Many Americans historically have not identified with a “working-class” label because they consider themselves temporarily embarrassed millionaires, so to speak – that is, they assume their condition is temporary and they or their children will rise.

From a Marxist perspective, the “dominant ideology” in any epoch tends to be the ideology of the ruling class, and in the U.S. the ruling class has certainly promoted the American Dream story. It’s a form of what Gramsci would call hegemonic ideology: it incorporates enough truth or hope (some people do move up; hard work is often necessary for success) to be credible, yet it obscures the structural realities like the importance of inheritance, social networks, or plain luck in economic outcomes. Moreover, when the Dream doesn’t pan out for many – for example, when a generation finds itself with stagnant wages, or when deindustrialization sweeps away secure jobs – the response is often not to question the system, but to internalize failure or direct anger at scapegoats (immigrants, for instance, or other ethnic groups), rather than at the class structure itself. In the late 20th century, even as upward mobility became harder, the cultural mantra remained that America is a meritocracy and class is not a barrier. This speaks to the power of ideology: material conditions changed (inequality grew, mobility stalled), yet belief in the Dream persisted.

Another ideological pillar is the notion of “equality of opportunity” as opposed to equality of outcome. Americans are generally more comfortable with inequality if they think everyone had a fair shot at success. Thus, public discourse emphasizes providing education or ending overt discrimination, but there’s less mainstream support for redistributive measures that would equalize outcomes or limit riches (which are seen as punishing success). The idea goes that as long as the race starts fair, it’s okay if some finish far ahead. Marxist critique here is that the race never starts fair when classes exist – children are born into vastly different conditions. Nonetheless, the ideology of opportunity leads many to view progressive taxation or robust welfare programs with suspicion as “un-American” or antithetical to how society should work. This belief has been reinforced by decades of rhetoric about the virtues of the free market and the vices of “big government.” During the Cold War, especially, anything that hinted at socialism or class-based politics was demonized – American individualism was cast as the opposite of communist collectivism. This historical context (McCarthyism, etc.) weakened organized labor and left-wing movements and helped cement a relatively narrow range of acceptable political debate, wherein class issues were often reframed as cultural or individual issues.

The role of education and media in spreading ideology is crucial. In school textbooks, American history is often presented as a story of progress and rising living standards, reinforcing the notion that each generation will do better than the last (a key part of the American Dream). The fact that this intergenerational progress has stalled for many is only recently entering mainstream awareness. Media and pop culture frequently highlight stories of people “making it big” – lotteries, talent competitions, celebrity culture – which keep the focus on exceptional upward mobility rather than the norm. At the same time, media representations of the poor or working class can be unflattering or blame-oriented (for instance, the stereotype of the “welfare queen” that gained political traction in the 1980s suggested that some poor people were cheating the system, implying moral failings rather than misfortune or structural unemployment). These narratives serve to justify cutting assistance and to shame the poor. Meanwhile, the wealthy are often portrayed as either deserving geniuses (the tech wizard, the visionary CEO) or simply as a benign part of the social landscape (think of the popularity of shows like Downton Abbey or Succession – fascination with the rich is common, sometimes critical but often glamourizing).

We should note that there is counter-ideology too. Not everyone accepts the dominant narratives entirely. There have always been critics of the American Dream myth, from socialists and labor activists to cultural figures. In recent years, growing attention to inequality (for example, the Occupy Wall Street movement’s language of the “99% vs the 1%”) and the popularity of thinkers like Piketty or movements like the Fight for $15 (for a higher minimum wage) indicate some ideological shifts. Yet, by and large, many Americans still explain class outcomes through meritocratic and individualist terms. Surveys show that Americans are more likely than Europeans to believe hard work gets you ahead, and less likely to favor redistribution – testament to how deep these ideas run.

In Marxist terms, these ideologies function to legitimate the class structure – they make the vast disparities of wealth, power, and privilege seem acceptable, natural, or at least not something the government should radically intervene in. As Marx wrote, the ruling ideas of an era tend to be those that reflect the interests of the ruling class. The narrative of meritocracy and the American Dream reflect the interests of the capitalist class because they discourage the working majority from seeing the system as unjust or changeable. If everyone believes they have a chance to join the rich, few will organize to challenge the rich. If people believe the poor are largely responsible for their plight, they will not demand systemic solutions to poverty. And if people see the state as a neutral referee rather than an instrument of class power, they will continue to work within a system that is structurally tilted against them, rather than question its fundamentals.

In conclusion to this section, the ideologies of meritocracy, individualism, and the American Dream form a powerful triad in U.S. culture that undergirds the class status quo. They instill hope and justify ambition, which can be motivating forces, but they also distort reality by downplaying how class advantages and disadvantages are produced and reproduced. A critical, graduate-level analysis recognizes these narratives as neither timeless truths nor outright falsehoods, but rather as social constructs that serve a purpose in the larger system of class relations. Understanding this helps explain why glaring inequalities in the U.S. do not always translate into class consciousness or political revolt – because many people interpret their situation through a frame that ultimately rationalizes those inequalities.

Conclusion

Contemporary Marxist theories on social class provide a rich toolkit for understanding the persistent and evolving patterns of inequality in society. By surveying key themes – from class reproduction and state power to global capitalism and precarity – we see that Marxist thinkers have continuously adapted analysis to new conditions, yet remain focused on the core insight that economic power profoundly shapes social life. The concrete picture of class in the United States today reveals stark divisions: a tiny capitalist elite holds extraordinary wealth and influence, a professional and middle class enjoys relative comfort but faces new pressures, and a large working class endures economic insecurity with many falling into a struggling lower class. This structure did not arise in a vacuum; it is the outcome of historical shifts since World War II, including a mid-century egalitarian boom that gave way to neoliberal policies favoring capital and an era of financialization that intensified disparities. Through each phase, class relations have been contested and reconfigured, often to the detriment of labor in recent decades.

Crucially, the American experience illustrates how ideology intertwines with economics. Beliefs in meritocracy and the American Dream have provided a cultural narrative that glosses over class realities, helping to maintain social stability even as inequality reaches extreme levels. Marxist analysis encourages us to question these narratives and uncover how they function to legitimize the power of a dominant class. For a graduate-level inquiry, the task is not only to describe these dynamics but to critically engage with them: to ask whose interests are served by particular definitions of class, whose voices are amplified or silenced in discussions of success and failure, and what alternatives might lead to a more equitable society.

In synthesizing theory, data, history, and ideology, one comes to appreciate that “class” is not merely an academic abstraction – it is lived in the everyday experiences of people and continuously shaped by policy choices and collective actions. Contemporary Marxist perspectives remind us that class is a relationship and a process, not just a static category: capital and labor confront each other in new forms, the state intervenes in some ways and abstains in others, global forces introduce both opportunities and vulnerabilities, and ideas play an active role in either reproducing or challenging the status quo. By examining the United States through this lens, we gain insight into why inequality endures and how it might be addressed. Ultimately, a nuanced understanding of social classes – grounded in theory but attentive to real-world trends – is indispensable for anyone seeking to grasp the complexities of power and justice in the modern world.