



THE great Calvin Coolidge reputedly said that “the business of America is business.” These days the business of America is carpet-chewing rage. American politicians are intent, not on improving their country's competitiveness, but on gouging each other's eyes out.

Businesspeople still enjoy huge advantages from being in America. Business is part of its DNA in much the same way that la dolce vita is part of Italy's. America has a disproportionate number of the world's most innovative businesses, from greybeards such as 3M to toddlers such as Salesforce.com. And Americans are to management what Brazilians are to soccer. After studying 10,000 firms in 20 countries, Nicholas Bloom of Stanford University and three other academics concluded that American firms are the world's best managed, with German, Japanese and Swedish firms a short way behind and Chinese and Indian ones trailing badly.

Yet America's politicians are intent on squandering this painfully accumulated capital. As it revoked America's triple-A credit rating on August 5th, Standard & Poor's explained that the gulf between the political parties was becoming unbridgeable, and that policymaking was becoming unpredictable. Other sober institutions concur. The World Economic Forum has downgraded America from second place in 2009 to fourth place in 2010 in its annual global competitiveness rankings. By the forum's reckoning, America comes a lowly 40th for the quality of its institutions, 54th for trust in its politicians, 68th for government waste and a dismal 87th for its macroeconomic environment. The World Bank sees a relentless decline in various indicators of American governance. Daniel Kaufmann of the Brookings Institution notes that last year 33% of American business leaders told pollsters that a big constraint was the “instability of the policy framework”. The figure for France was 14%; for Chile, 5%.

Optimists argue that S&P's decision may act as a wake-up call. Yet in Washington it is being treated as another battle cry, with Republicans raging about “the Obama downgrade” and Democrats railing against “tea-party terrorists”. The roots of America's current polarisation are distressingly deep. The parties have reorganised themselves along ideological lines, as white conservatives have abandoned the Democrats and northern liberals the Republicans. The ideological factions have built mighty propaganda machines stretching from Washington think-tanks to the studios of Fox and MSNBC. And ideologues have resorted to previously taboo weapons, such as the threat of default.

This ideological civil war has led to the marginalisation of corporate America. In the Republican Party country-club types have been elbowed aside by Rush Limbaugh listeners. In the Democratic Party the business-friendly centrists who flourished under Bill Clinton have been sidelined by Ivy League intellectuals and trade-union and minority activists. Granted, Mitt Romney, the front-runner for the Republican presidential nomination, looks like a made-for-television business candidate: a Harvard Business School graduate and Bain consultant who helped to create successful companies such as Home Depot. But on the campaign trail he has devoted more effort to wooing Mr Limbaugh's legions than to crafting businesslike solutions for America.

The civil war is creating two obvious problems for American business: paralysis and uncertainty. The Obama administration is still pockmarked with vacancies because Congress refuses to approve routine appointments. Important trade deals have been languishing for months. The Republicans are fighting a war of attrition against Barack Obama's health-care reforms and his new Consumer Financial Protection Bureau.

All this has immediate consequences for business. The federal government not only runs basic services such as the Federal Aviation Authority (where thousands of workers were briefly laid off because Congress refused to renew the FAA's authority). It also accounts for a quarter of the economy. Scott Davis, the boss of UPS, the world's largest package-delivery company, recently complained that FAA funding disputes made him unsure how many of his aeroplanes to fit with new air-traffic-control gear, while the failure to ratify a trade pact with South Korea weakened the case for expanding his fleet of aircraft and lorries.

The direst consequences of all this lie in the future, however. America's health-care system consumes a sixth of GDP but produces only mediocre results. America's schools produce run-of-the-mill results despite generous funding. The immigration system leaves 11m people in the shadows and condemns many of the brightest graduates of American universities to years of grovelling before bureaucrats if they want to stay in America. Many give up and take their skills back to India or China.

Bring back Silent Cal

American companies are sitting on a gigantic pile of cash; Apple alone has $76 billion in the bank. Why won't corporate America invest in America? It does not help that domestic demand is feeble, and that the global economy is in turmoil. But American politicians deserve some of the blame. Their unpredictability erodes confidence. The gulf between American business and the Obama White House is growing ever wider, as business-friendly insiders (such as Larry Summers, an economic adviser) leave the administration. Even more dangerously, the gulf between business and the rest of the country is widening: opinion polls show that American businesspeople are losing faith in their country even as ordinary Americans are losing faith in business. Calvin Coolidge's statement was once denounced as the height of bourgeois complacency. Today it sounds like a reminder of an America that is in danger of disappearing.

Economist.com/blogs/schumpeter