The American Dream

In a debate asking “Is the American Dream Alive?”, economist Tyler Cowen argued “yes” with the following point:

The American Dream, as measured through intergenerational mobility, has risen radically, numerically, as the number of immigrants we’re taking in has increased. … This is the median household income for Bolivians, most Bolivians not coming from wealthy families: $87,000 a year. Albanians, a country ravaged by communism, basically hardly anyone had wealth, median household income in the US: $85,000. Iranians: $96,000. Filipinos: $101,000. These are medians - not just a few charismatics! Indian Americans - this could be the highest number ever for any group: it is $152,000. Coming from a very, very poor country. Individuals who came to America and made better lives for themselves.

Hearing Cowen implicitly reference my parents in defending the American Dream made me feel proud in a way I haven’t in a long time.

My dad grew up poor in Iran. He used to tell me about how he’d sometimes have to go to bed hungry, and how much he’d hate it. Despite significant obstacles growing up, he excelled at math, and was eventually given the opportunity to pursue his doctorate at UC Berkeley. He took it, left before the Islamic Revolution, and eventually dropped out to begin a career as an engineer in a budding Silicon Valley.

At a local college many years later, I took an intro to sociology class, taught by a decent professor whose central thesis was that the American Dream is a lie. On most days, I’d raise my hand and argue with him.

My central thesis was that even if upwards mobility is unlikely, we as individuals need to believe we can beat the odds in order to do what’s best for ourselves and our families.

I only now realize Cowen’s more direct point: that I was already living out my parents' American Dream.

Seeing that hit me hard and makes me deeply grateful for my parents and for this country. Insofar as making money reflects a contribution to society, his data honors those who did something with whatever opportunities America could afford them.

Relative to being born in the motherland, let alone the median American, us second-generation immigrants are incredibly privileged. I honor my parents in saying that, and I wish I had done it more growing up. Back then, all I could see was the struggles I had compared to the typical American.

Second-generation identity is complex and was painful for me to work through, but focusing on my disadvantages missed the forest from the trees.

Thanks to the American Dream, I had already won the lottery the day I was born.

My dad is a democratic socialist: his views seem most aligned with Noam Chomsky and Bernie Sanders. But when we talked politics, he’d often say that while America isn’t perfect, it’s better than anywhere else he knows.

We must continue to find ways to improve our country.

Just as importantly, the story of countless immigrants says that we should also protect it. Counter to the American Dream, there’s another dream, whose story says that we need to tear down our system before we can build something better.

As an engineer now myself, I’ve felt that temptation on every codebase I’ve inherited. But when that system is already serving millions of customers in both clear and opaque ways, pursuing that revolutionary dream can easily become a nightmare. This nightmare has played out time and time again in both technical and societal projects.

Looking at the depth and breadth of prosperity created by the current dream, in stories like mine and millions more, the data says that we are much better off with the old American Dream than a new one.

And we, especially us immigrants, can be grateful for that.