In this episode of 20 Minute Books, we dive into "Glass House" by Brian Alexander. Published in 2017, "Glass House" paints a vivid picture of the decline of Lancaster, Ohio, a town which has gone from prosperity to destitution over the past fifty years. The narrative centers around the Anchor Hocking glass factory, a once prime source of employment that eventually turned into a source of disappointment and despair. The story of Lancaster is a powerful metaphor for understanding the broader socio-economic dynamics currently affecting American society and politics.
Author Brian Alexander is no stranger to American culture and its intricacies. He is a former contributing editor for Wired magazine, an award-winning reporter, and most importantly, a native of Lancaster, Ohio. His authoritative and insightful pen has already earned accolades in books like "America Unzipped" and "The Chemistry Between Us".
"Glass House" is a must-read for politicians and policy-makers, students of history and American studies, and indeed anyone interested in getting an in-depth look at the state of American affairs. Tune in as we unravel the complex threads of this powerful narrative in today's episode of 20 Minute Books.
Delve into the heartland of Trump's America
When we seek to understand how Donald Trump ascended to the presidency, fingers often point towards the heartlands of the Midwest and the shifting loyalties of the white, working-class populace. However, delving into the story of Lancaster, Ohio, a quintessential American town, we realize that this explanation just scratches the surface.
Our narrative uncovers the tragic transformation of a town that once thrived with growth and community spirit, only to succumb to an unfortunate decline. The undoing began when the cornerstone of Lancaster's prosperity — the esteemed Anchor Hocking Glass Company — fell prey to corporate greed. The results were devastating. The story demonstrates that the faith in the American Dream alone isn't enough to sustain a community in the face of mismanagement and the havoc wreaked by private-equity financiers.
In this journey, you'll discover:
- How in the town of Lancaster, a casual visit to the bar could have landed you a job;
- The role of Trump's main economic advisor in triggering the demise of this humble Midwestern town; and
- The perplexing reality of how those who stripped the town of its vitality are still applauded by its residents.
Step back in time: The heyday of Lancaster, Ohio, in post-WWII America
Lancaster, Ohio, once embodied the ideal American town. Its picture-perfect essence was so remarkable that B.C. Forbes, the editor-in-chief of Forbes magazine, held it up as an exemplar — a beacon of success immune to "left-wing" intervention.
At its zenith, Lancaster was a vibrant, industrious heartland with the Anchor Hocking glass factory — the town's lifeblood — providing employment to over 5,000 residents. It was a close-knit community, symbolized by the warm, familiar greetings shared among neighbors in the picturesque town center.
Consider the case of Herb George, a common man who epitomized the Lancaster experience. Like many others, he kick-started his career at Anchor Hocking in the wake of World War II and gradually climbed up the corporate ladder. His wife, Nancy, was a community stalwart — volunteering for hospital fundraisers, lobbying for new schools, and engaging in a multitude of community causes.
Such families were the bedrock of Lancaster throughout the 1940s, '50s, and '60s. Husbands labored at the glass factory, while wives orchestrated community activities, from council meetings and vaccination campaigns to sidewalk repairs.
Lancaster was a haven where children roamed freely and friendships traversed social strata. It wasn't rare to find the Vice President of Anchor Hocking unwinding at Old Bill Bailey's tavern, rubbing shoulders with factory workers, or even spotting an executive recruiting from among the bar's regulars.
High school graduates typically began working at Anchor Hocking the week following their graduation, foreseeing a secure 40-year tenure, culminating in a comfortable retirement.
Although Lancaster was not a lap of luxury, its residents led carefree lives, exuding the pride that stems from honest, hard work. Surely, the town grappled with minor scandals, alcoholism, and pockets of poverty, but its charm paralleled Hollywood's depictions of idyllic small-town America. It was such an accurate representation that it served as the shooting location for the 1948 film, "Green Grass of Wyoming."
Witness the fall: The tale of Lancaster's gradual decline
Sadly, Lancaster, like countless other factory towns that once thrived, is today but a specter of its former glory. Once a pastoral paradise, it is now plagued with devastating drug addiction, overwhelming unemployment, and widespread bankruptcy.
Buildings and residences are deteriorating due to neglect and lack of funds. So many parents have fallen prey to imprisonment that it's become commonplace for children to live with their grandparents.
In Fairfield County, of which Lancaster is a part, over 58 percent of children in the social service program have parents grappling with opioid addiction. The situation is even worse in neighboring Hocking County, where the figure exceeds 79 percent.
For many, drugs served as an escape from the grim reality of life in Lancaster. However, this temporary refuge soon morphed into the root cause of a myriad of other issues.
The head of the city's Major Crimes Unit couldn't help but weep while discussing the countless drug-related arrests. After all, he had grown up with these individuals; some were even part of his high-school football team.
There's still a handful of old-timers in Lancaster clinging to the quaint ideals of small-town decency — notions that feel increasingly out of touch with the current times. Despite the attempts of certain cable TV programs to scapegoat outsiders for the town's downfall, the harsh reality is that the seeds of destruction were sown from within.
In the 1980s, the Anchor Hocking factory, the town's pride, began deteriorating under the dual assault of poor management and avaricious private-equity financiers. This nosedive was further exacerbated by the unrestrained free-market capitalism championed by the Reagan administration.
Carl Icahn, the infamous corporate raider, was at the epicenter of these developments. He employed the strategy of "greenmailing" — akin to blackmailing — where an individual acquires a significant portion of a company's stock and then demands a board seat to instigate change. The only way out for the targeted company is to buy back the shares at an inflated price.
Anchor Hocking capitulated, a move that netted Icahn between two and three million dollars. However, the adverse implications for Lancaster were far more significant — it served as an open invitation to other corporate predators that Anchor Hocking was ripe for exploitation.
A tale of disruption: How Anchor Hocking's upheaval changed the lives of its workers
The story of Anchor Hocking's glass factory serves as a stark reminder of the destructive implications of a corporate buyout — affecting not just the business, but an entire community.
After being targeted by Icahn, Anchor Hocking was swept up in a whirlwind of tumultuous events.
Firstly, in 1983, a factory executive spearheaded a partial company buyout and shifted the container division to Tampa, Florida. This move placed many executives in a dilemma — choosing between their careers and their community. Meanwhile, the workers at the Lancaster plant were left teetering on the edge of uncertain, unstable employment.
Subsequently, Anchor Hocking found itself passed like a hot potato from one investment firm to another, each transaction fueled by borrowed money and pushing the company closer to the brink of bankruptcy.
A telling example was in 1987 when the company fell prey to a hostile takeover by Newell Corp. Their inaugural act was a sweeping removal of executives, coupled with the gradual reduction of funds and eventual shutdown of the Lancaster plant. One local resident captured the sentiment aptly, asserting that this move "ripped the heart out of this town" and shattered any remaining faith in the company's commitment to the community.
Each subsequent owner echoed the same agenda — make a quick buck by flipping the company. This necessitated stringent cost-cutting measures and heavy concessions from the union. The company deemed renovations and repairs too expensive, which resulted in steadily outdated facilities, hindering Anchor Hocking from producing contemporary products.
The era of guaranteed pensions came to an abrupt end, replaced by 401(k) retirement plans that required employees to contribute a portion of their salaries. Employers were initially obligated to contribute to these plans too. However, over time, these contributions dwindled to a trickle, leaving workers facing the stark reality that a comfortable retirement was far from certain.
The true culprits: How politicians and executives triggered Lancaster's downfall
Determining where the blame lies for Lancaster’s decline should be a clear-cut exercise. However, some have unfortunately directed the blame towards the wrong targets.
For instance, Kevin D. Williamson, a correspondent for the National Review, paints an unflattering picture of Lancaster's white working-class population, branding them as selfish, vulgar individuals numbing their woes with heroin. According to him, the town’s residents bear the sole blame for their community's struggles.
But what else can be expected after enduring three and a half decades of relentless financial exploitation?
Had it not been for the blood-sucking private equity firms relocating company headquarters and disassembling the invested leadership, surely the trajectory would have been different.
When the executives moved the headquarters, they severed the social connections they once had with factory workers, no longer contributing to local taxes. Their wives, who had once spearheaded fundraising efforts and infrastructure improvements, were also no longer around.
Instead, the town’s suffering was seen as an opportunity for exploitation by the new owners. They managed to secure free land from desperate politicians, fearful that the company would further slash jobs. This scenario played out in 2003 when a tax incentive deprived the town of fifty thousand dollars intended for public schools. However, the only individuals who reaped benefits were the executives — already owners of private jets and million-dollar Central Park apartments in New York City.
Lancaster’s politicians further worsened the situation by resorting to borrowing funds from predatory short-term lenders, accepting loans saddled with a shocking 636-percent interest rate.
While some critics attribute Lancaster’s decline to unionized workers demanding salaries thrice those of some foreign employees, this argument falls short in identifying the root cause of the problem.
Learning from Lancaster: Insight into the unintended consequences of the free market
You may be wondering: What’s the significance of a small Midwestern town that has fallen on tough times?
Well, let's not forget Lancaster’s location in the crucial swing state of Ohio, which has been implicated in swaying the election in favor of Donald Trump.
Interestingly, 61 percent of Lancaster’s Fairfield County cast their votes for Trump in the 2016 election. There's little doubt that the pervasive sense of despair in Lancaster significantly influenced their voting choices. To truly comprehend the despair that led Lancaster and countless other towns to vote as they did, we need to delve deeper than simplistic narratives of drug addiction or racism and identify the underlying causes.
Equally important is to recognize the irony in Lancaster’s current predicament. Many inhabitants of struggling Midwestern towns laud figures like Ronald Reagan and Milton Friedman, advocates of the purported merits of a free-market economy built on survival-of-the-fittest principles. Yet, it’s this very philosophy that catalyzed the financial disaster that plunged Lancaster into its current state of crisis.
The very politicians and champions of personal responsibility that they revere have paved the way for financial predators like Monomoy Capital Partners, Cerberus Capital Management, and other parasitic firms that sucked Lancaster dry.
Steered by self-interested executives, these firms commanded lawyers with hefty $1,200-per-hour charges, all tasked with a single objective — to squeeze as much capital from Anchor Hocking as possible. What happened to Lancaster was simply collateral damage.
It's no random connection that Carl Icahn, founder of Cerberus Capital Management — one of the firms that profited from Anchor Hocking's downfall — is also a key economic adviser to Trump.
Despite their predicament, many in Lancaster remain in denial of what catalyzed their town's decay, largely due to the influence of Fox News and conservative commentators who've managed to cloud their perception of reality.
Understanding the demise of the American Dream requires us to explore in depth what transpired in towns like Lancaster, where that dream was once vibrant and promising.
Wrapping it all up
The central theme of this book:
Lancaster, Ohio, is a poignant testament to a multitude of intertwining elements. Once a beacon of the American Dream, a paragon of what dedicated, hardworking individuals can achieve, it has regrettably morphed into a shattered community plagued by drug addiction and rampant unemployment. While it's tempting to point fingers at Lancaster's residents for their predicament, the actual culprits are the merciless financiers and politicians who continually made detrimental deals until everything inevitably crumbled down.