Robert Reich wants you to be angry. He wants you to be furious at the rich, outraged at corporations, and incensed by the unfairness of it all. In his book The System: Who Rigged It, How We Fix It, Reich paints a picture of an America ruled by oligarchs, where democracy is a sham and people are powerless against the machinations of the ultra-wealthy.
It's a compelling narrative. It's also deeply flawed.
This matters because Reich isn't just another pundit. He's a former U.S. Secretary of Labor under President Clinton, a Berkeley professor, and a bestselling author with millions of social media followers. "The System" itself became a national bestseller. When someone with his platform and credentials makes sweeping economic claims, people listen. They form worldviews around his assertions. They vote based on his narratives.
To be clear: there are real problems with inequality in America. There are valid concerns about corporate power and the influence of money in politics. These issues deserve serious, evidence-based discussion. But Reich's book, rather than illuminating them, obscures them behind a fog of hyperbole, oversimplification, and demonstrably false claims.
Throughout "The System," Reich makes sweeping assertions that crumble under scrutiny. He ignores evidence and seems more interested in stoking outrage than understanding the world—a dangerous approach, since bad diagnoses lead to bad prescriptions that harm the very people they're meant to help.
We can have empathy for those who struggle while still being grounded in reality. In fact, crafting policies that work requires exactly this combination. The challenges facing working Americans are too important to be addressed with anything less than intellectual honesty. The outrage-fueling falsehoods that Reich provides won't deliver solutions.
Reich tells us his agenda is "neither right nor left." That's the old framework, he insists. "Today the great divide is not between left and right. It's between democracy and oligarchy."
It’s a neat rhetorical trick. By framing the debate as "democracy vs. oligarchy," Reich attempts to position himself above the partisan fray. Who, after all, could be against democracy?
But this performance of neutrality falls apart the moment you examine Reich's actual proposals. His supposedly post-partisan agenda includes:
If this looks familiar, it's because it's the standard progressive Democratic platform. There's nothing wrong with advocating these positions, but pretending they transcend left-right politics doesn't withstand even cursory scrutiny. Reich wants the moral authority of standing above politics while advocating for an explicitly political agenda. He can't have it both ways.
Reich claims America has transformed into an inheritance-based oligarchy—where most of today's ultra-wealthy are heirs, not entrepreneurs. He tells us:
We're already at a point where many of today's super-rich have never done a day's work in their lives. Six out of the ten wealthiest Americans alive today are heirs to prominent fortunes.
This would be damning if true. However, it is false.
Reich does not cite any sources for his claims, so I don’t know where he got this idea. All I can find from searching it is him saying the same thing in other outlets. I checked the Forbes list of America's richest people. Of the top ten, exactly zero are heirs to prominent fortunes. Nine founded the companies that made them wealthy. The only exception is Steve Ballmer, who joined Microsoft early but wasn't a founder.
I did manage to find what I think he’s talking about in Wikipedia’s list of the top ten richest people going back to 1987. I went over every year and the closest I could find was the 2001-2004 time period when the Walton heirs make appearances due to a methodological change—Forbes used to classify them together as the “Walton family” but in 2001 split them out into individuals. In that period, five of the people on the list were Walton heirs. However, this is a thing of the past; by 2005, all but one had fallen off the list.
In fact, a 2014 study examined the Forbes 400 list of wealthiest Americans from 1982 to 2011. They found that the proportion of the Forbes 400 who grew up wealthy decreased from 60% in 1982 to just 32% in 2011. Meanwhile, the share who came from upper-middle-class backgrounds (what the authors call "some money") increased by about the same amount.
Even more tellingly, 69% of those on the 2011 list started their own businesses, up from 40% in 1982. The Waltons and Marses are increasingly the exception, not the rule. The world is changing in precisely the opposite direction Reich claims.
Reich's zero-sum view of wealth—where the rich getting richer means everyone else gets poorer—fundamentally misunderstands how wealth creation works. Wealth isn't a fixed pie that gets divided up. When someone invents a new technology, develops a better process, or creates a product people want, they expand the total amount of value in the world. The entrepreneur captures some of that value as profit, but consumers capture most of it through lower prices, better products, and entirely new capabilities that didn't exist before.
Reich repeatedly tells us that the rich have “siphoned off economic gains” from the 90% to themselves. Yet, economic research shows that "only a miniscule fraction of the social returns from technological advances over the 1948-2001 period was captured by producers, indicating that most of the benefits of technological change are passed on to consumers rather than captured by producers."
Yes, Google's founders became billionaires, but billions of people now have instant, free access to virtually all human knowledge. When entrepreneurs like Gates or Jobs create billions in wealth for themselves, they're creating trillions in value for society.
But let's examine the deeper absurdity: the idea that today's ultra-wealthy don’t work. Here’s another great opportunity to test his claims, to make contact with reality. We can simply ask, do the richest people in the world work?
Here's Bill Gates reflecting on his early years:
When I was your age, I didn't believe in vacations. I didn't believe in weekends. I pushed everyone around me to work very long hours. In the early days of Microsoft, my office overlooked the parking lot—and I would keep track of who was leaving early and staying late.
There are a lot of things you could call him, but lazy isn’t one of them.[1]
Or consider Elon Musk, currently the richest person in the world. The Walter Isaacson biography of him talks about him sleeping on the factory floor and working 100-hour weeks. Here’s a quote from the book:
From the very beginning of his career, Musk was a demanding manager, contemptuous of the concept of work-life balance. At Zip2 and every subsequent company, he drove himself relentlessly all day and through much of the night, without vacations, and he expected others to do the same.
This shows how divorced from reality Reich is. He's so focused on his narrative about rich people being lazy and entitled that he fails to see the completely contradictory facts right in front of him.
When Reich isn't demonizing the rich, he's telling you how poor everyone else has become. His go-to claim is: "Most people's incomes haven't risen for four decades."
This is the kind of statement that usually gets thousands of retweets, yet, unfortunately, near-zero fact-checks. It also happens to be demonstrably false.
Once again, Reich provides no sources, so I googled it. Here's what the actual data show for real (inflation-adjusted) median personal income in the US:
Caption: This is median income, so it is not explained by the rich getting richer. This is the median person—richer than 50% of the population and poorer than 50% of the population. This is also inflation-adjusted, so it is not simply showing a rising cost of living. It is showing the average American becoming wealthier.
There have been plateaus and a noticeable dip around the Great Recession, but the trend is unmistakable: up and to the right. Not flat. Not declining. Rising.
This exemplifies the maddening experience of reading Reich. He makes a bold, specific claim. You want to verify it. But there's no footnote, no source, no hint of where he got this "fact." And when you type his statement into Google, the results often contradict his claims.
But Reich's statement feels true, and we should think about why. Even as real incomes have risen, housing costs in desirable metros have exploded, college tuition has outpaced inflation, and daycare and medical costs have become fodder for water-cooler horror stories. People see billionaires' wealth plastered across social media while they're struggling to save for a down payment. The fact that the median American is better off statistically doesn't negate the real anxieties people face about making rent or paying off student loans.
Caption: Price changes vary dramatically by sector. The things people worry about most—college, childcare, healthcare, and housing—have seen the steepest price increases since 1997. These specific costs explain why many feel their incomes are stagnant even when the data says otherwise. Image source
Food spending shows how the story gets complicated. While food prices have risen, incomes have risen faster. In the 1960s, Americans spent about 17% of their income on food; today it's under 10%. This decrease in spending on necessities has freed up income—but much of that freed income now goes toward bidding up inherently scarce goods like real estate in desirable metros. We're not poorer overall, but economic competition has shifted from securing basic needs to competing for positional goods[2]. When people feel the squeeze of rising housing costs while the savings on food happen invisibly in the background, they understandably feel like they're falling behind.
Caption: Image source
Of course, no single number is going to tell us everything we need to know about how people are doing. Another thing we could look at is net worth. The Federal Reserve publishes changes in US family finances. Here’s what they say in their most recent report:
[Between 2019 and 2022], real median net worth surged 37 percent to $192,900, and real mean net worth increased 23 percent to $1,063,700, accelerating the steady growth experienced over the 2013–19 period. The 2019–22 changes imply some narrowing of the wealth distribution between surveys. Indeed, growth in median net worth was the largest increase over the history of the modern [Survey of Consumer Finances], more than double the next-largest one on record.[3]
Caption: Figure from the Federal Reserve’s Changes in U.S. Family Finances from 2019 to 2022. It shows that real (inflation-adjusted) net worth has increased for the average family. Note that the median has increased more than the mean, which also suggests that inequality is lessening. These are the exact things we should be hoping for. The 2019-2022 data hadn’t come out when the book was published, but this is the kind of data that directly contradicts his narrative. I didn’t copy the tables here, but you can see them in the report and see that every demographic group is getting richer, and overall inequality is declining.
Reich also warns ominously about the "shrinking middle class[4]," painting a picture of widespread downward mobility. This is technically true—the middle class has shrunk. But here's what he doesn't tell you: as you might guess from the numbers above, it's largely because people are getting richer.
I checked many different sources for this because there are different ways of calculating the middle class. According to the Center for Retirement Research, using data from the Urban Institute, the middle class has shrunk from 39% to 32% primarily because the upper middle class has grown from 13% to 29%. The lower middle class and poor have also shrunk during this period (1979 to 2014).
Caption: Data from 1979 to 2014 show that the poor, lower middle, and middle classes have all shrunk because so many people are not in the upper middle or rich classes. The data is adjusted for inflation.
Pew Research, looking at the period from 1971 to 2021, found similar results:
In other words, for every person who fell out of the middle class into poverty, nearly two rose into the upper-income tier.
A third source, the US Census Bureau, confirms the same pattern (also inflation-adjusted), as you can see in the figure below:
Despite Reich’s pronouncements, this isn’t a dystopia; it’s upward mobility.
He also tries to convince Americans that they're poorer than people in other developed countries. Consider this assertion: "Considering taxes and transfer payments, middle-class workers in Canada and much of Western Europe are better off than in the United States. The working poor in Western Europe earn more than do the working poor in America."
Once again, Reich offers no sources. I googled lots of variations of the phrase and, in short, I can’t tell what he’s talking about.
He's not talking about income because he specifically says he's considering transfer payments, which include government benefits like welfare, unemployment insurance, and social security. I think the best thing to look at would be consumption because it reflects real living standards better than income alone, since it accounts for transfers, benefits, and cost of living.
So I think the best thing to look at then is Actual Individual Consumption (AIC), which measures all goods and services actually consumed by households. The story it tells is that per capita AIC is highest for the US, even higher than countries that have higher per capita GDPs, like Norway and Luxembourg. It’s yet another Reichism: He says something, you Google it, and the reality is the exact opposite.[5]
Caption: Image source
Reich's claims extend beyond economics to our political and justice systems, where he insists the wealthy have rigged institutions in their favor. According to Reich, the super-rich have essentially purchased America:
The concentration of wealth in America has created an education system in which the super-rich can buy admission to college for their children, a political system in which they can buy Congress and the presidency, a health-care system in which they can buy care that others can't.
Of course wealth confers advantages in healthcare, education, and, I would add, virtually everything else. This has been true in every society throughout history. But Reich isn't making a general complaint about inequality; he's making specific claims about oligarchic control. These we can test.
If the super-rich can "buy the presidency," then Reich should be able to predict every election by simply checking which candidate the wealthy prefer. Fortunately for him, there are betting markets on this very thing, so he should be able to turn his wisdom into a fortune, join the super-rich, and then pick the next president.
But here's where his theory crashes into reality: the super-rich don't vote as a bloc. Billionaires have backed both sides of every election in living memory. Tech moguls lean left while energy executives lean right. Wall Street hedges its bets across both parties. Despite Reich’s claims, if there's a secret oligarch meeting where they decide who becomes president, someone forgot to send out the memo.
He frames politics as a party of the people (Democrats) versus a party of the rich (Republicans). This is certainly a common sentiment on the left: a 2018 study found that Democrats estimated 44% of Republicans earned over $250k. The real number, however, is just 2%.
Even if we could ascribe the “party of the rich” to a single party, it’s not clear which party that would be. Certainly, in the minds of Reich and many on the left, it’s the Republicans. But according to Vox, it changes over time, and as of 2012, it’s the Democratic Party.
Caption: Throughout most of the post-WWII period, the highest earners have voted for the Republican Party. However, the gap closed starting in the 1990s and in 2012 flipped to be the Democratic Party.
I searched for more recent data, but the most recent I could find were only for white voters. Even with this narrower demographic, the same pattern holds: higher-income voters have shifted toward Democrats.
Caption: This chart shows how white voters' party preferences have changed by income level from 1948 to 2024. Each year shows five income groups from lowest to highest. In 1948, the lowest-income voters leaned slightly Democratic, while middle-income voters were more strongly Democratic, and higher-income voters strongly favored Republicans. By 1984, a clear linear pattern emerged: support for Republicans increased with income. By 2024, this relationship has completely reversed. Today, the lowest-income white voters are the strongest Republican supporters, while the highest-income white voters are the strongest Democratic supporters. Image source
But, more to the point, Reich's simplistic "rich versus poor" framework fails spectacularly when you examine actual voting patterns. The truth is that people don't vote based solely on economic interests. They vote based on values, cultural issues, and their vision of America's future.[6] Reich desperately wants the divide to be economic rather than ideological, but real-world voters stubbornly refuse to cooperate. In recent elections, both the wealthiest and poorest Americans have tended to vote for the same party (Democrats), while middle-income voters split. This is the exact opposite of what his theory would predict.
Caption: Source
Much like everything else, Reich wants you to believe the justice system is rigged for the rich. And to be clear: wealth absolutely provides advantages in our criminal justice system. Rich defendants can afford bail while poor ones sit in jail awaiting trial. They can hire teams of lawyers while public defenders juggle hundreds of cases. They can afford expert witnesses and private investigators. These are real inequities that deserve serious consideration.
But Reich isn't interested in these substantive issues. Instead, he reaches for the most inflammatory example he can find, the infamous 'affluenza' case:
An even more flagrant example is Ethan Couch, a Texan teenager who killed four people and severely injured another while driving drunk[...] a psychologist who testified in Couch's defense argued that the teenager suffered from "affluenza," a psychological affliction said to result from growing up with wealth and privilege. Couch served a 720-day sentence.
It's a shocking story. I remember when this happened. But the thing to keep in mind is, as far as I have been able to find out (e.g., see the Wikipedia page here), this term was used one time in the entire history of the US criminal justice system by a single psychologist, and was immediately met with endless ridicule. Reich presents this as if "affluenza" is now standard legal doctrine, as if wealthy defendants routinely waltz into court, claim their money made them do it, and saunter free. But this case made national headlines precisely because it was so outrageous and stupid.
If Reich's thesis were correct—if the rich really could, to use his exact words, "buy their way out of jail"—we'd need to explain some inconvenient facts. Rich people do serve serious prison time. Here are some recent examples:
These aren't small fry. These are exactly the kind of ultra-wealthy, well-connected people who should be able to game Reich's "rigged system."
The tragedy here is that by reaching for hyperbole—by pretending one-off outrages represent systematic policy—Reich ignores the real reforms we need. Bail reform is a genuine issue affecting millions. The underfunding of public defenders is a problem. I believe we should make it a policy goal to ensure everyone gets competent legal representation (AI lawyers?) regardless of their bank account. But throughout his entire book, Reich never mentions these substantive problems. Instead of building coalitions around achievable reforms, he offers cartoon villains and simplistic narratives.
Our goal should be to understand what's actually true about the world. Reich would like you to believe that rich people can just say "affluenza" and walk out scot-free. Thankfully, that is not how the world works.
Reich's tendency to oversimplify and misrepresent complex systems—whether it's the justice system or the economy—wouldn't matter so much if he were just a commentator. But Reich has actually shaped policy, and the results demonstrate exactly why his simplistic thinking is dangerous. His approach reminds me of H.L. Mencken's famous quip: "For every complex problem there is an answer that is clear, simple, and wrong." The System is full of them.
Though Reich spends much of the book vilifying rich people like Warren Buffett and, especially, Carl Icahn, there is one place where they all agree: CEOs are overpaid.
In the early 1990s, CEO pay started to rise at a much higher rate than before. In 1993, the Clinton administration, with Robert Reich as Secretary of Labor, decided to tackle excessive CEO pay. The president signed a bill into law limiting the tax deductibility of executive salaries to $1 million[7]. Anything above that couldn't be written off as a business expense. There was just one small exception: "performance-based" compensation remained fully deductible.
Caption: The CEO-to-worker compensation ratio started rising rapidly in the early 1990s, eventually exceeding 100:1.
I don’t know how involved Reich was with this particular bill, but, according to his Wikipedia article, he was "one of the most powerful members of the Clinton cabinet. [...] As a member of the National Economic Council, Reich advised Clinton on health care reform, education policy, welfare reform, national service initiatives, and technology policy, as well as deficit reduction and spending priorities." In short, he likely had a front-row seat to this policy's creation.
What followed was a case study in unintended consequences. Rather than accept lower pay, CEOs and their boards simply restructured compensation packages. Base salaries stayed at $1 million (conveniently deductible), while stock options and "performance" bonuses exploded.
In short, the policy failed completely. Instead of limiting CEO pay, it sent it soaring. The very problem Reich rails against throughout The System was supercharged by a policy enacted on his watch.[8]
Caption: This is the same graph as before, except that it extends the timeline to include the period during and after Reich’s time as Secretary of Labor.
Reich witnessed this spectacular backfire firsthand. He saw a well-intentioned policy create the opposite of its intended effect. One might hope this would make him cautious about proposing simple solutions to complex problems.
That hope would be in vain.
Throughout The System, Reich shows no evidence of having learned from this experience. He still presents policy interventions as if we can simply decree outcomes. Want to limit CEO pay? Just cap it! Want higher wages? Just mandate them! Want less inequality? Just redistribute everyone’s money!
The CEO pay debacle perfectly illustrates why we can't trust Reich's economic prescriptions. He sees a problem, imagines a solution, and assumes reality will comply. When it doesn't, he doesn't update his worldview. He just proposes more of the same, harder.
The System reads like a game of Mad Libs where the narrative structure is pre-written and only the details change. The story is always the same: you're a victim—poor, mistreated, and helpless—at the mercy of oligarchs who've rigged everything against you.
It's a compelling narrative for some. The problem is that this narrative structure comes first, and the facts are forced to fit. When you approach economics this way, you end up cherry-picking data, disregarding contradictory evidence, and making claims that can't survive a Google search.
The sheer volume of false claims raises an obvious question: Why does Reich need to fabricate evidence? Strong arguments stand on real data. The fact that he resorts to falsehoods suggests that reality doesn't support his worldview.
Getting the facts wrong doesn't help anyone—it just leads to bad solutions. It reminds me of the Thomas Sowell quote: “When you want to help people, you tell them the truth. When you want to help yourself, you tell them what they want to hear.” Reich, it seems, has chosen the latter path.
Perhaps the most frustrating aspect of Reich's approach is how unnecessary it is. There's an important story to be told about what happened to the American worker over the past sixty years involving global competition, technological change, and shifting skill demands. But by framing every issue as an apocalyptic battle against "oligarchy," even his valid points get lost in the hyperbole.
This approach represents a failure of intellectual ambition. Reich's arguments only work if you're already converted. If you're not already primed to make these leaps, you're left behind. If you believe that progressive policies are inherently good in all cases, then you might agree. But if you don't already, he does nothing to convince you.
Instead of building coalitions, Reich serves up comfort food for progressives: cartoon villains, simple solutions, and that warm feeling of righteousness. But intellectual comfort food, while satisfying in the moment, doesn't nourish, and it doesn't solve real problems.
You might wonder why I've spent so much time fact-checking Reich. Am I just being pedantic? Does it really matter if he exaggerates here and there (and everywhere)?
It matters immensely. These aren't just abstract facts—they're what we might call instrumental facts. They're the instruments we use to navigate reality, create our whole frame of reference, and make decisions. When those instruments are broken, we make broken choices. Reich's false claims about wages, wealth, and inequality aren't harmless errors. They're the foundation for policies that could harm the very people they claim to help. But there's an even more insidious effect of Reich's false narrative.
The most damaging part of Reich's narrative emerges when he addresses meritocracy. According to him, belief in meritocracy is a trick played by oligarchs: "The oligarchy wants Americans to view the system as a neutral meritocracy in which anyone can make it with enough guts, gumption, and hard work."
His counter-message is stark: "Don't believe the system is a meritocracy in which ability and hard work are necessarily rewarded. Today the most important predictor of someone's future income and wealth is the income and wealth of the family they're born into." Once again, no citations, and Googling it suggests it's completely false, but I want to focus on another point.
This isn't just wrong—it's poisonous. When people believe effort is futile, they stop trying. When they believe the system is rigged, they disengage. When they believe they're helpless victims, they become helpless victims.
If you think America is an oligarchy where merit doesn't matter, you might not pursue education, develop skills, or start a business. You might not even immigrate here, despite the fact that immigrants in America reach levels of prosperity unmatched anywhere else in the world. Now imagine a society where millions hold these beliefs—it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy of stagnation and decline.
I want people to believe effort matters—not because the system is perfect, but because belief in agency leads to better outcomes than learned helplessness. Yes, advantages compound. Yes, the playing field isn't level. But the solution isn't to tell people the game is rigged so they shouldn't even try.
Reich wants reforms led by active citizens. I agree, but here's what I'd add: I want reforms led by informed, active citizens. Citizens who've done their homework, checked their facts, thought through potential unintended consequences, and promoted open dialogue where people can share ideas and work together.
The American worker deserves better than fairy tales. The issues Reich raises deserve better than sloganeering. They deserve careful analysis that acknowledges trade-offs, engages with criticism, and builds coalitions rather than vilifying anyone who disagrees. And readers deserve better than books that prioritize ideological comfort over inconvenient truths.
Until we demand better—from our public intellectuals, our politicians, and ourselves—we'll keep getting books like The System. And we'll keep wondering why our problems never seem to get solved, even as we're told, again and again, that the solution is just one revolution away.
The real revolution we need isn't against imaginary oligarchs. It's against intellectual laziness, tribal thinking, and the seductive falsehoods we tell ourselves about how the world works. That revolution starts with each of us deciding that truth matters more than tribe, that accuracy matters more than simplicity, and that real solutions matter more than feeling righteous.
Also, in his recent memoir, Gates describes sneaking out of his parents' house at night so he could have more time programming a computer.
Positional goods are goods whose value depends on relative standing rather than absolute availability. Their worth comes from the social status or exclusivity they confer, not from their practical utility. Because their value is tied to comparison—like owning a house in a prestigious neighborhood or a seat at an elite university—they often command much higher prices than functionally similar alternatives.
Caveat that this includes the COVID stimulus, which could distort these numbers, so we should be cautious about drawing too many conclusions. However, the 2013-2019 numbers also showed strong growth and that was before any COVID stimulus.
Definitions of “middle class” vary. The Urban Institute defines it as those earning $50,000-$100,000. Pew Research uses two-thirds to double the national median income, after adjusting for household size—about $52,000 to $156,000 for a household of three (2020 dollars). The US Census Bureau doesn’t have an official definition, but the American Enterprise Institute, using Census data, defines it as households earning $35,000 to $100,000 (2018 dollars). Reich does not specify which definition he is using.
This appears to have been true for at least the last decade and a half. See here for the 2011 AIC values.
See Jonathan Haidt's The Righteous Mind for a thorough discussion of voting behavior.
It was part of the Omnibus Budget Reconciliation Act of 1993, which included section 162(m) of the Internal Revenue Code.
The 2017 Tax Cuts and Jobs Act eliminated the performance-pay exemption, so we might see a reduction in CEO pay in the coming years. However, there’s good reason to believe that no form of using taxes to cap executive compensation will work.