How Should We Look to History to Make Sense of Luigi Mangione’s Alleged Murder of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson?
Wait, slow down: “We” have not been here before. The major, most obvious – and virtually always ignored – difference between the Gilded Age and our own time is that we did not live in it. None of us were alive in the late 19th century. The people who were alive back then didn’t think like us or act like us. Finding structural similarities does not turn writers into Nostradamus, able to discern the signs and predict the future.
It is all too easy to use the past as a tool for driving home lessons derived from modern beliefs or ideologies. Without knowing much about either Thompson or Mangione – let alone anarchists or Horatio Alger heroes – Mangione becomes the equivalent of a 19th-century avenger of the working class, while Thompson is a modern “Ragged Dick,” rising to his post through pluck and hard work.
Most popular and political appeals to history are not just superficial, they are also quite ahistorical. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the courts.
Jonathan Gienapp’s new and brilliant book, “Against Constitutional Originalism,” eviscerates what he describes as the sloppiness, ahistoricism and anachronisms of the U.S. Supreme Court’s conservative members, who often justify their decisions by invoking what the nation’s founders intended. According to Gienapp, their core sin is simple: They are ventriloquists putting their modern ideas in the founders’ mouths and claiming they have recovered original meanings.
Emerging from the Morass
This ahistorical thinking runs across the political spectrum. It comes from asking the wrong questions, and thinking that structural similarities produce roughly identical outcomes.
The two periods share more than soaring inequality and vast technological change. There were attacks on racism and resurgent racism; mass immigration and backlash against it; frequent swings in party control; economic booms and busts; a dearth of bold leadership; failures in governance; and outbursts of violence.
Both eras also experienced declines in lifespans, environmental deterioration that has affected health, and the efforts of the well-to-do to seal themselves off from the diseases of the less fortunate.
But often left out is the fact that the Gilded Age confronted these issues; it was also, paradoxically, a period of reform. Beginning at the end of the 19th century, lifespans increased, childhood mortality fell, epidemic diseases declined, and public health produced remarkable results.
Now, that trajectory has reversed. Death and disease are at the heart of the murder of Brian Thompson, who was on his way to meet with investors hoping to profit from a company whose calculated decisions sentenced some people to suffer for the gain of others.
Useful questions might be: How did the Gilded Age escape its crises? And why did solutions that seemed to gradually improve health and well-being for most people over generations cease to work? How did UnitedHealthcare, the people who profit from it and those eager to invest in it come to be?
There is a history there.
Richard White is Professor of American History, Stanford University. This article is published courtesy of The Conversation.