Government can't cure poverty

USA Today (Society for the Advancement of Education), Jan, 1998 by Robert L. Woodson, Sr.

Poverty does not create crime, nor does unemployment. In the past, rather than generating social disintegration, times of economic hardship often strengthened the bonds of family, neighborhood, and community.

What is it about our response to poverty today that is different from the way we addressed poverty in the past? What is it that has formed a link among poverty, crime, and social deviance? How was it that, in other times, having no money did not equate with being in a state of "poverty"? Why do some people recall childhood memories of families pulling together in tightly knit neighborhoods and then remark, "It wasn't until years later that I realized we were poor"?

In the past, where indigenous community support structures were intact, economic hardship was considered to be more of a temporary challenge than an intergenerational condition. Established community associations and church-affiliated organizations historically have functioned to give relief to the needy on a one-to,-one basis. It is only within the last 30 years that an institutionalized bureaucracy has developed to administer programs for the poor, complete with a massive standing base of "dependents."

Throughout the history of the black community, for example, grassroots associations such as mutual-aid societies provided relief for those who were in need. The first of these was the Free African Society, founded in Philadelphia in 1787, the members of which contributed one shilling a month for distribution to the needy, with the stipulation that "this necessity is not brought on them by their own imprudence." Throughout the 1800s, mutual-aid societies multiplied throughout the North and, by the 1830s, 100 such organizations were functioning in the city of Philadelphia alone, with an average membership of 75. Mutual-aid societies were a main source of support for blacks in the South, in spite of obstacles of laws that prohibited blacks from assembling. At the end of the 18th century, in addition to providing relief for the needy, mutual-benefit societies and black churches maintained their own schools. As early as 1790, the Brown Fellowship Society provided educational facilities as part of its mutual-welfare program.

As the Federal welfare system took on the roles that formerly had been fulfilled by the indigenous community associations and churches, a major shift occurred. Whereas nearly all previous aid to the poor involved reciprocity -- a contribution of work on behalf of any able recipients and a balance of rights and responsibilities -- many of the regulations within the Federal welfare system actually functioned as disincentives regarding work, savings, and movement toward self-sufficiency.

For instance, because rates of rent for public housing are calculated as 30% of the household income, as residents make economic progress, they are penalized, in effect, for any increase in income. Without a cap on rents, in some cases payment demanded for public housing, units rose above market rates. In addition, regulations stipulated that welfare recipients could have no more than $1,000 in savings. In one case that made headlines, this meant that the mother of a young girl who had taken a part-time job to save for college was fined three times the amount that her daughter had managed to save, and the family was threatened with the termination of all welfare benefits.

Whether or not such regulations consciously were intended to limit the upward mobility of those in the system, they have produced a steady "client base" for what has become a literal "poverty industry." To date, of the more than five trillion dollars that have been poured into anti-poverty programs and agencies, only 30 cents of each dollar have made it to the hands of the poor. Seventy cents of each dollar have been absorbed by those who "serve" the poor. It is not surprising, therefore, that the system itself has been reluctant to embrace reform.

The 30-year rein of the "Poverty Pentagon" has taken its toll on a deeper level than financial stagnation. The system has usurped and weakened the natural indigenous support structures that had existed within low-income communities, such as the family and neighborhood associations. What began as material poverty has evolved to include a spiritual poverty -- a sense of hopelessness and rootlessness.

As a steadily growing barrage of programs was generated from "needs analyses" of low-income neighborhoods, a welfare class came to be identified with its deficiencies and was viewed as an isolated, dependent population. This "ethos of dependency" penetrated the mindset of many of the welfare recipients and, surrendering to the regulations of the system, numerous households found themselves in a cycle of intergenerational dependency.

Who benefits?

There is a danger in trusting the labels of programs or agencies that purport to serve the disadvantaged or poor children. Statistical "portraits" of the poor and minorities have been used continually to justify trillions of dollars in funding. However, the lion's share of such funds has been absorbed by a massive bureaucracy of administrators and service providers.