What would happen to the thirsty people deprived of water? In typical fashion, Santelli didn’t care enough to make it explicit. Instead, he turned his attention to the “silent majority” represented by the stock traders who stood in the background of CNBC’s live coverage, cheering his Tea Party oration. Those colleagues, he averred, are “a pretty good statistical cross-section of America,” showing the same fast-and-loose approach to statistics as in his claims that intentionally infecting all Americans with coronavirus would lead to a similar death rate as attempting to contain it. Still, we should resist our impulse to dismiss Santelli as ignorant here. This is not a simple error, but a statement about who really counts—namely, people like him and his fellow stewards of the market, who are never going to be underwater on their mortgage, just as they will presumably never be among the unwashed masses dying of coronavirus.



Capitalism has always created winners and losers, of course, and capitalist ideology has always aimed to portray those outcomes as legitimate and just.

Capitalism has always created winners and losers, of course, and capitalist ideology has always aimed to portray those outcomes as legitimate and just. Hence we should not be surprised that a privileged person like Santelli views himself and his colleagues as uniquely deserving. What is surprising, indeed disturbing, is the element of malice toward the losers. Santelli travels far beyond the more conventional view that acknowledges the destruction wrought by the market—the job losses, the failed businesses, the bad bets—as a necessary evil that is outweighed by the benefits of economic growth overall. Within such a framework, even ardent pro-market theorists like Friedrich Hayek and Milton Friedman concede that society owes something to those left behind. For Santelli, by contrast, the fact that some people are harmed by the market is a positive good, to the point where offering aid and comfort to the losers can appear as an injustice worthy of the condemnation of an enraged overclass.



Back in 2009, many Americans among the hoi polloi were willing to be drafted into Santelli’s aristocratic revolution, dressing up in Founding Fathers drag for their contemporary Tea Party. There were serious questions about the extent to which the Tea Party was an authentic grassroots movement or a corporate-sponsored “astroturf” campaign, but it is undeniable that it was, at the time, the most effective American protest movement in this young century. The Tea Party tipped the balance of power in Congress and within the Republican Party itself, putting Obama on the defensive for the rest of his presidency. More than that, with its anti-intellectualism and its vulgar provocations (most notably on the topic of rape), it cleared the way for Trump, who has shown just as much malice toward society’s “losers.” It may not represent a numerical majority, but enough Americans are on board with a program of vengeance against society’s most vulnerable to allow the anti-democratic aspects of our system to stymie any movement toward a less punitive society.



How could such a cruel and seemingly irrational view gain such purchase? Once more, we need to resist purely individualistic explanations—such as the idea that Tea Party or Trump supporters are simply bad people whose negative urges have finally found an outlet. Santelli’s remarks do not reflect the universal facts of human nature, but a very specific historical situation: the aftermath of the global financial crisis, which produced a permanent ratcheting down of incomes and life chances for entire populations. The usual bromides about hard work and individual virtue could not make sense of such a system-wide shock. And to add insult to injury, many of the victims got into trouble by pursuing homeownership, which is supposed to be the ultimate sign of personal responsibility and prosperity.

