Atelier 11

Atelier 11, article 3

Given the ideas and concepts which have informed the works of numerous U.S. social historians in the past several decades, it is clear that many of those historians owe a tremendous intellectual debt to such thinkers as Antonio Gramsci for his explanation of cultural hegemony, to E. P. Thompson for his analyses of social space, and to Noam Chomsky for his development of a whole array of insights and arguments about the ways and means of contemporary elitist propaganda and mass thought control. After all, by digging into the past and present social movements of ordinary people and the social critiques of those who care about their interests, these individuals and their ideas, along with many others, are responsible for providing us with understandings and options for dealing with our present-day contradictions, crises, and tremendous problems. Chomsky, in particular, has influenced many contemporary, progressive-minded people with his social critique of corporate capitalism in a way that fuses moral significance with intellectual rigor. Indeed, this essay is largely a synopsis of two of the studies that Chomsky recommended on his 1997 audio tape entitled "Propaganda and Control of the Public Mind."
Those two works: Taking the Risk Out of Democracy (1997), by Alex Carey, and Selling Free Enterprise (1994), by Elizabeth A. Fones-Wolf, have provided us with extensive evidence on how and why the contemporary, U.S., pro-business cultural hegemony was leveraged over the U.S. population after World War II.   Beyond that, they go far toward explaining how and why that particular cultural hegemony has been perpetuated. Together, these two works leave little doubt that the corporate and business elite of the U.S. very self-consciously developed an incredibly vast, sophisticated, and comprehensive, pro-business propaganda effort to convince virtually every American that the values and perspectives of that corporate and wealthy elite should be the values and perspective of everyone else in society. It was an effort that, as Carey points out, was four square in the tradition of what one of the foremost thinkers in the U.S. public relations field of 1920-1950, Edward L. Bernays, termed the "‘engineering of consent’" in order to win the "‘everlasting battle for the minds of men.’"
Now, as political scientist Michael Parenti has often observed, when someone starts espousing such a thesis as this one — talking about everyone being dominated by the self-serving propaganda of a class of elitists — it sounds impossible or, worse yet, it sounds like the ravings of a conspiracy freak. Indeed, we are supposed to believe that whenever someone ascribes self-conscious intent and design to that top 20% of U.S. families who had 49.2% of the aggregate U.S. household income in 1998, or to that top 10% who owned 87.5% of all U.S. financial assets in 1995, he is simply loony-tunes. But, of course, rich people consciously pursue their self-interest just as do the more lowly creatures in society. And we have that practice confirmed by no less an authority on the behavior of businessmen than the father of capitalism, Adam Smith. As he famously points out in the Wealth of Nations, "People of the same trade seldom meet together, even for merriment and diversion, but the conversation ends in a conspiracy against the public, or in some contrivance to raise prices."
Well, that kind of "conspiracy against the public" in the U.S. was at no time more true or, perhaps, larger in scale than in the years between 1945 and 1960. Those were the years when the U.S. corporate and business elites launched a concerted propaganda effort to control the public mind that was unprecedented in its scope. And, yet, as Chomsky notes, until recently that vast undertaking was not even written about. Indeed, the topic was so ignored that Carey’s study had circulated for years only as a sort of underground manuscript among academics. Finally, the U. of Illinois Press published it. As a published work, it was preceded by Fones-Wolf’s book, also published by the U. of Illinois.
Now, both of these studies document how dominant U.S. business institutions, organizations, and corporations orchestrated multimillion dollar public relations campaigns by using newspapers, magazines, radio, television, movies, workplace training classes, sports leagues, churches, public schools and universities to shift the whole post-WWII political outlook and dialogue in the U.S. to a more conservative position.   This was initiated in order to undermine the legitimacy and the power of organized labor and to weaken or destroy the ideology and institutions of New Deal liberalism. And the books show how all this was coupled to an extension of corporate influence outside the factory gates so that there would be a wider public imbued with ideas that were not only antipathetical to the mutualistic ethos of organized labor but, also, receptive to the ideas of stand-alone individualism and rampant consumerism.
Now, the years of the second U.S. "Red Scare" were the immediate historical context in which that pro-business campaign was launched, i.e., the late 1940s and the entire 1950s. But, according to the authorities cited, the fundamental reason for this tremendous effort to propagandize the public mind was because of the rise of powerful democratic impulses and forces in the 1930s era of the Great Depression. After all, labor victories, the birth of social security, government-run socio-economic programs (like TVA), powerful lower class demands for social justice, and the popular expectation of more progressive measures – like universal health care and civil rights – and curbs on the prerogatives of capital (e.g., U.A.W. president Walter Reuther’s demand to see the auto manufacturers’ accounting books) really worried the U.S. business elite. But, of course, they were not so worried that they did not know what to do about the threat that they faced.
Fully cognizant of the fact that the Crash of 1929 and the Great Depression had shaken the faith of many Americans in the values of the business community and its corporate leadership, the business elite became even more alarmed when it discovered the full dimensions of that lower class disaffection, according to Fones-Wolf’s study. For instance, a 1935, Fortune magazine survey found that over 80% of America’s poor and lower middle class citizens endorsed such a statement as the "‘government should see to it that every man who wants to work has a job.’"   For the big business employers of labor, such opinions indicated that workers had lost faith in huge, undemocratic, corporate hierarchies that made up most of the Orwellian termed "free enterprise" system. And, dealing with that alarming loss of faith, the National Association of Manufacturers (NAM) — an anti-labor fixture of corporate America since 1895 — urgently appealed to the whole business community to launch, as rapidly as possible, "‘an active campaign of education’" to "‘tell its story,’" (i.e., the pro-business story with whatever euphemistic twists of the language that were necessary).   Accordingly, NAM’s budget for public relations shot up from $36,000 in 1934, to $793,043 in 1937 (55% of NAMs total income).   NAM paid for "radio programs, film strips, educational films, advertisements, direct pro-company mailings, displays for schools and plants, a speakers bureau, and an industrial press service [which] provided editorials and news stories to [7,500] small papers."   So, by the early 1940s, NAM was systematically influencing institutions of education and religion to reach the public with their version of the glories of "free enterprise." And, of course, the voices asking "free for whom?" were being steadily eclipsed as the pro-business propagandists did their utmost to persuade (or is that becloud?) the public mind.
But all those pre-1946, pro-business efforts paled beside the monies and programs that U.S. business elites deployed in virtually every sphere of American life after WWII.   Look, in 1946 alone, NAM spent over $3 million on public relations campaigns to end government price controls. These efforts were supplemented with various corporate programs that were designed to inculcate Americans with the pro-capitalist story by using traveling exhibits, merchandise displays, pamphlets, and programs for school children.    So, in the period from 1946 to 1960, NAM, the U.S. Chamber of Commerce (both, as Fones-Wolf sees it, basically hard-line, ultraconservative institutions), the Committee for Economic Development (CED) and the Business Advisory Council (BAC) (both, as Fones-Wolf explains, basically sophisticated conservative to moderate institutions), along with such individual bodies or corporations as the Iron and Steel Institute, Ford, Caterpillar, U.S. Steel, Johnson and Johnson, Standard Oil of New Jersey, General Motors, General Electric, and General Foods pulled out all the stops to turn back what they perceived as a tidal wave of post-war social-democratic sentiments in the U.S.   As one public relations firm so desperately warned in 1947: "‘our present economic system, and the men who run it, have three years — maybe five at the outside — to resell our so-far preferred way of life as against competing systems.’"   Well, it’s almost impossible to get much more urgent than that or much more class conscious in defense of elite interests who were so threatened by what was represented in those 1946, worker opinion surveys which found that "47% of factory workers thought that the government would do most in providing new peacetime jobs."     And, in response to that dangerous climate of opinion, Carey notes, those business elites revived the two dominant themes of the 1920s and 1930s pro-business, public relations campaign to launch their renewed assault on that dreaded social democratic public opinion.
Now, both of those themes, as Chomsky pointed out, were embodied in what is known as the "Mohawk Valley formula." And that is a strategy of social control that is worth looking at because, although its origins date back to the great steel strike of 1919, against the Bethlehem steel plant in Johnstown, Pennsylvania, the basic strategy has been employed right up to the present day.   Indeed, as Chomsky notes, you can hardly turn on the TV, or go to a movie, or, certainly, look at a corporation publicity release without seeing it.   Anyway, the Remington Rand Corporation is credited with having perfected part of this strategy, but it was due to the NAM organization that the details of the strategy were spread to business organizations across the nation in 1936. And that dissemination was energized because, as NAM’s board of directors later announced, in 1938, that the "‘hazard facing industrialists’" from the "‘newly realized political power of the masses’" was so severe that "‘we are headed for adversity.’"   So, the Mohawk Valley formula was used to rescue the elite of the business world and the elite of society from the rising "‘political power of the masses’" and the possible encroachments on the prerogatives of capital that those masses might make. Those democratic threats to the corporate dominated social order were to be averted by reshaping public opinion by stressing two standard themes. And those themes were "Americanism" and community "harmony."
Now, the first of these themes, "Americanism,"— which, as Chomsky notes, is a decidedly totalitarian concept — held that "Americanism" consisted of an ardent devotion to free enterprise, a stress on competitive, self-owning individualism, an emphasis on hard work and increased productivity, a focus on acceptance of democratic forms, a habitual church going, and unquestioning patriotism. The second of the themes was social "harmony," which consisted of working class quiescence and individual passivity and obedience to those elites who presumed to know what is best for everyone. To paraphrase Chomsky’s summary, what the architects of the Mohawk Valley formula created, was the portrait of a harmonious community that was composed of the friendly banker who was just looking for someone in need to whom he could lend money,   the hardworking executive who was trying to make his workers happy so that their hard work and increased productivity would create an abundance for all, the worker who eschewed all labor agitation to work hard for his firm, his family and his country, the dutiful wife who stayed home to raise the darling little children, and all who, in turn, went to work and school and church and never raised a critical peep about anything.   Now, naturally, the disrupters of this halcyon world of social tranquillity were the "outsiders" and "aliens" whom, as Chomsky notes, just couldn’t get it through their incredibly thick heads that everything would be so much better if they would just shut up.   And those outsiders, of course, were the labor agitators and organizers who were promoting unionization and community "disharmony." However, if those people could be effectively removed from the scene, then harmony would not only prevail for the good of all, but the bosses would have it so much easier. Enter, therefore, the demonization of unions and radicals.
So, along with what might be termed the positive, pro-capitalist propaganda found in the Mohawk Valley formula, there came a real negative modification of the picture being presented in the post-1945 era. And that modification encouraged and capitalized on all the anti-communist hyperbole of the Red Scare period from 1946 to 1960. After all, the promotion of the Red Scare by government and public figures allowed business elites to patriotically wave that banner of anti-communism while generating a wholly negative ideology of anti-communism, anti-collectivism, anti-unionism, anti-New Deal liberalism, anti-public welfare state, and anti-collective self-help solutions to any and all social problems. In effect, then, the pitifully few communists in America were used as scapegoats in order to destroy the more dangerous legacy of New Deal liberalism. Jail a commie and tar a liberal was the name of the game. The anti-communist, pro-business strategy was to identity all unwanted government regulation of the affairs of business as subversive.   Unions, then, became even more demonized and discredited, and liberals were depicted as communist "fellow travelers." Simultaneously, government financial assistance to anyone but the wealthy was described as unnecessary or harmful to individual initiative and to the abstraction called "country."
Now, of course, the scope of this short essay will permit only a few indices of the massive propaganda effort and means by which the post-World War II business elites got their message out and into the heads of the American public at every level of society. But those indices can reveal much about how people are being constantly manipulated and "educated" by business elites and the institutions which they dominate. For example, the fine art of corporate manipulation can be seen in the proliferation of the post-World War II worker "participation programs" and "suggestion systems" which were designed to make workers feel that they were "participating" in company decision-making without "restructuring [either] work or the line of authority in the shop."   Thus, suggestion systems (e.g., boxes) were promoted to employers by organizations like NAM as a means of enabling employers to gain greater access to worker knowledge of the work process while manipulating those same workers into believing that the company would adequately compensate them for their ideas.   Now, the bogus aspect of this "worker participation" in the affairs of management was brilliantly revealed, albeit in another context, by historian David Montgomery. Basing his analysis on some earlier observation by Karl Marx, Montgomery observed that capitalists not only accumulate their profits by expropriating the surplus value produced by workers but, more importantly, by expropriating their skills and knowledge as well.   In short, worker suggestion boxes and company participation programs can serve to usurp the workers’ knowledge for the benefit of owners. No wonder that during and after World War II such a sophisticated means of control and expropriation spread from only four major companies in 1942, to over 1,000 by 1954.
Firms also sought to control their workers in the post-World War II period by bombarding them with corporate propaganda through pamphlets, comic books, posters, bulletin boards, letters to their homes, annual reports, magazines, newspapers, films, and even sloganeering matchbooks. Thus, the number of companies utilizing reading racks in their firms rose from one (General Motors), in 1949, to 3,000 in 1958. And the number of magazines designed to build up a positive company consciousness among workers went from reaching 13.3 million workers in the 1940s, to over 80 million in 1958.   Indeed, the company magazines multiplied so rapidly that universities began offering courses specifically for training corporate editors. And to this was added the personal touch that is revealed in the indices that show that the number of firms writing to their employees or their families increased from 28% in 1947, to 82% in 1955.   Likewise, companies created employee training programs such as the very popular "How Our Business System Operates" and the ever popular "In Our Hands" program. These were initially developed by the anti-union IBM and Dupont companies. And they were disseminated by NAM to U.S. corporations in order to give, during working hours, their captive audiences of employees a "better understanding of our American way of life."   The whole effort involved taking hundreds of thousands of workers off the shop floors for between 3-15 hours of training and discussions. It meant, for example, that, in just the period 1950-1953, 1.5 million workers were jerked around by one of management’s all-time favorites, "In Our Hands."
But corporate America did not stop with just a mental "education" of workers into the capitalist story. Oh no. In the three or so decades following 1945, corporations sought to recapture the allegiance of their employees from unions or beneficial government programs by stressing a new corporate paternalism. This included what were called "‘business-industry-education days’" when teachers and students from the public schools were invited to tour nearby plants and/or see company presentations on corporate operations and the fine jobs that they were offering the people in their communities. In my own home town, the Sangamo Electric Company — where, for almost three generations, virtually everyone in my extended family worked at one time or another — sponsored a once-a-year gigantic festival at which around 5,000 workers and their families would be given free beer, sandwiches, hot-dogs, soda pop, carnival rides, games of chance, movies, and cotton candy — as much as you wanted of almost everything, all day long. It was grand. It was fun. And it was manipulative. In my high school, almost everyone thought about growing up and working for the Sangamo Electric Company. Thus, the strategy of paternalism, which many firms had used in the 1920s to keep their workers quiescent, was resurrected in the 1950s. It helped to put a glossy image on a nosey factory like Sangamo Electric and on corporate America generally.
But, Sangamo and companies like it throughout the nation offered even more tangible enticements to attract employee loyalty from government sponsored social services to private enterprise social services. They offered their employees an intricate web of privatized benefits, including pensions, vacations, health plans, and educational assistance. This may be described as privatized "welfare capitalism."   And its purpose, quite obviously, was to make workers and the public believe that the New Deal innovations in taking care of people’s basis economic needs were obsolete and unnecessary. Moreover, it had the additional, and lasting, advantage of making employees dependent on such things as company health care programs because the U.S. has no universal, affordable, and comprehensive, government sponsored health care system to which people can turn for support of their health care needs. In short, employers hoped that their proffered, and often meager, fringe benefits would boost worker productivity while simultaneously weakening worker reliance on unionism and government for meeting their needs.
From there, the corporate leaders moved into another domain of population control and that involved company sponsored sports and recreation programs. Following the teaching of Abraham H. Maslow’s hierarchy human needs, their idea was that psychologically alienated workers would gain a sense of individual recognition, a sense of personal achievement, and a sense of team spirit and company loyalty if they participated in the company’s recreation or sports league. One corporate officer, A.H. Spinner, expressed the overall corporate objective in such sports activities very neatly when he stated: "‘Class consciousness fades out of the picture when people are engaged in the pursuit of common interests.’"   One could hardly find a more candid acknowledge of the consciousness-beclouding objective of company sponsored sports activities than that. And the value of such an outcome was readily grasped by corporate America. After all, in 1948, 30,000 firms spent just $400 million on recreation, but, in 1953, that figure had jumped to $800 million. Indeed, by 1955, industrial recreation was so much a part of U.S. business practice that it had become a business in itself.
Now, of course, in America, along with sports comes prayer. And a substantial segment of the post-World War II, U.S. business elite not only believed that God could be enlisted to help fight communism, but, also, that He was a "‘good partner,’" as they said, "‘ to have in the firm.’"    Religious workers, they believed, would be more cooperative, sober and industrious.   So, by the mid-1950s, over 800 major companies were distributing religious literature to their employees.   Companies like U.S. Steel that "spent [in 1952] $150,000 to purchase subscriptions [of Norman Vincent Peals’s Guideposts] for its 125,000 employees" undoubtedly saw the usefulness of religion as an instrument of social control.
And, with prayer, comes schools or, at least, some Americans would have it so. Anyway, you get ‘em while they’re young, if you are going to capture their minds for life. So, by 1950, NAM, alone, distributed almost 4.5 million pro-business pamphlets to U.S. students — up 600% over those handed out in 1947. And, by 1954, over 3.5 million students had watched about 60 thousand showings of various NAM films. And, amazingly, in 1954, NAM supplied U.S. public schools with enough free materials to be equal to about 50% of what the public schools spent annually on textbooks (i.e., $50 million according to school superintendents). By 1959, one out of every five U.S. corporations reported supplying teaching materials or aids to the public schools.
What, then, was the result of this massive and systematic business campaign to reshape the ideas and images of the post-World War II, American political culture in a conservative, pro-business direction? Well, by the end of the 1950s, the social democratic and liberal hopes for a fully deployed, public-dominated welfare state had been crushed, and union representation of the labor force had begun its long decline, from 35% of the U.S. workforce in 1950, to 13.9% in 1998.   Indeed, the pre-1950s, "popular image of organized labor" had shifted from one of being the "heroic defenders"of the New Deal’s social reforms to being "just another special interest group."   And, most importantly, big business had successfully redefined what constituted "Americanism." They had transformed the 1930’s and 1940's meaning of Americanism from that of meaning collective self-help in order to combat the inequalities in American life, to one meaning competitive, stand-alone individualism, with its atomized solutions to almost every social problem.   By 2000, and the 1990's advent of what cultural historian Thomas Frank has termed "market populism," many working class Americans have become convinced that America’s "new ruling class" is not the corporate elites who manage them, fire them, or move their jobs and factories to other countries, but the "liberal journalists, liberal academics, liberal foundation employees, liberal politicians and the shadowy powers of Hollywood" who are supposed to disdain or blaspheme the "wisdom and values of average Americans."   And, as Frank notes, to this new conception of working class friends and enemies has been added the widespread cultural acceptance of the pro-business/corporate ideology that markets and the law of supply and demand, not democratically elected governments, are the true and only valid expression of the people’s will.   Thus, the financially successful few (10% of U.S. families) are to be exalted and emulated by the competing many (90% of U.S. families) who are taught to dream of making an individual killing on the stock market or in some lottery while the only commodity that they can realistically sell — for even a pittance in exchange — is their labor power. It’s a "‘Gain Wealth, forgetting all but Self’" concept of Americanism that spawns, as Chomsky often notes, a very perverted conception of society and how its members should live.
Meanwhile, we have the spectacular hypocrisy of big business CEOs, wealthy stockholders, and huge corporations getting massive taxpayer subsidies, tax breaks, bankruptcy bailouts, research and development grants, and a host of other benefits while the very rich often advocate the discipline of the "free market" for everyone else. In short, big business is not opposed to what Chomsky calls the "nanny state" that must serve and benefit it.   Big business is just opposed to the government interfering in the workers’ and small businessmen’s "right" to fend for themselves in a market place economy that offers them mostly insecurity and scraps along side of the much more substantial benefits flowing to leading CEOs and the wealthiest shareholders of major corporations. Likewise, the purpose of the current pro-business, anti-government propaganda condoned and/or fostered by large scale, national and multinational American corporations, as Parenti notes, is the marriage of big business with small government (military excluded) and the magnification of private power over public sovereignty.
Even more ominously, after more than fifty years of anti-government propaganda and pro-business attacks on government policies that either put or proposed to put some curbs on the prerogatives of large-scale corporations, the persistent anti-government rhetoric has created a public that is extremely vulnerable to simplistic right-wing demagoguery and fascistic sentiments. And while this may be the unintended consequence of the business elite’s anti-government propaganda, it is the logical result of decades of anti-government media trash talk by conservatives. Quite simply, the incessant anti-government, anti-welfare, anti-affirmative action, and anti-business regulation diatribe of conservative forces has created a social climate in which right-wing militias, religious fundamentalism, and a fragmented, often frightened or angry population is kept marginalized, isolated, and diverted into attacking the federal government instead of focusing on the real power in society, i.e., large scale national and transnational corporations and interlocking business oligarchies. And it means that the very conservative climate of opinion has created a very real potential for the rise of fascism in economic hard times.
Yet, it would be a mistake to conclude that fascism will be the inevitable result of any future economic catastrophe, or that everyone is hopelessly subject to a pro-business cultural hegemony and to its ideological orthodoxies, or that working and lower class power in America has been totally emasculated by a triumphant "New Economy," or that any hope for a truly democratized America is utopian. Indeed, despite neo-liberal claims to the contrary, the often presumed eternality of the capitalist system is as transitory as its contradictions are multiple. Moreover, cultural hegemonies are never total and ideologies are never as universal or as eternal as they purport to be. Indeed, as the pace of technological change, information transfer, and access to information accelerate, it only verifies the famous observation that under capitalism "all that is solid melts into air." Already, the power of the Internet in linking people together has greatly contributed to sinking the Multilateral Agreement on Investment and to implementing a Lilliputian strategy of resistance to corporate globalization.   So, it is most likely that traditional cultural hegemonies and ideological orthodoxies will be further challenged as the voices on the Internet proliferate, criticize, and organize those who value the common rights of humanity over the sole principal of absolute self-interest. (E)

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Notes
Noam Chomsky, "Propaganda and Control of the Public Mind," (No place: AK, Press Audio, February 1997), audio cassette tape.
The focus in this essay is only on the pro-business aspect of the U.S. capitalist culture, not on the whole complex of cultural practices, meanings, and values that comprise the totality of that culture.
Alex Carey, Taking the Risk out of Democracy: Corporate Propaganda verses Liberty (Chicago: U. of I. P. 1997), 80-82.
U.S. Census Bureau, "Historical Income Tables – Households," "Tables H-1 and H-2," [on-line]; available from www.census.gov/hhes/income/histinc/h0l.html; Internet; and www.census.gov/hhes/income/histinc/h02.html; Internet; Lawrence Mishel, Jared Bernstein and John Schmitt, State of Working America, 1998-1999. (Ithaca, New York: ILR Press, an imprint of Cornell U.P., 1998), 260.
Adam Smith, An Inquiry in the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations (New York: Modern Library, [1776], 1937), 128.
Carey 19-36, 79-83; Elizabeth Fones-Wolf, Selling Free Enterprise: The Business Assault on Labor and Liberalism, 1945-60 (Chicago: U. of I. P., 1994), 6, 286.
Carey 87-98, 143-172; Fones-Wolf 16.
Chomsky paraphrases the thinking of social scientist Harold Lasswell to define propaganda as the "conscious [creation] and maintenance of collective attitudes by the manipulation of significant symbols."
Fones-Wolf 3.
Fones-Wolf 17.
Fones-Wolf 25.
Fones-Wolf 25.
Fones-Wolf 25.
Fones-Wolf 25.
Fones-Wolf 22-29.
Fones-Wolf 37.
Fones-Wolf 36.
Carey 24-27.
Chomsky "Propaganda."
Carey 25, 24.
Carey 25; The Mohawk Valley formula was supplemented in 1950, by the NAM sponsored "Roanoke Plan" which became another, albeit similar, model for community indoctrination into the pro-business ideology. See Fones-Wolf 166-180.
Chomsky "Propaganda."
Chomsky "Propaganda."
Carey 27.
Fones-Wolf 76.
Fones-Wolf 76.
David Montgomery, Fall of the House of Labor: The Workplace, the State and American Labor Activism, 1865-1925 (Cambridge England: Cambridge U.P., [1987], 1996), 105-107.
Fones-Wolf 76.
Fones-Wolf 80.
Fones-Wolf 81.
Fones-Wolf 83.
Fones-Wolf 83-84.
Fones-Wolf 87-91.
Fones-Wolf 88.
Fones-Wolf 73-74.
Fones -Wolf 92.
Fones-Wolf 91.
Fones-Wolf 224.
Fones-Wolf 225.
Fones-Wolf 224.
Fones-Wolf 224.
Fones-Wolf 204; This citation covers all the information in the paragraph.
Michael Parenti, Democracy for the Few, 6th ed., (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1995), 215; Economic Policy Institute, "Union Coverage in the United States, 1979-1998." Datazone [on-line]; available from www.epinet.org/datazone/union.html; Internet.
Fones-Wolf 10.
Fones-Wolf 10.
Thomas Frank, "Rise of Market Populism: America’s New Secular Religion" Feature Story in the Nation, October 30, 2000 [on-line]; www.thenation.com/doc.mhtml?i=20001030&s=frank. See also his book One Market Under God: Extreme Capitalism, Market Populism, and the End of Economic Democracy. (New York: Anchor Books, 2000).

Ibid.
Noam Chomsky, Power and Prospects: Reflections on Human Nature and the Social Order (Boston: South End P., 1996), 77.
Chomsky "Propaganda."
Democracy 40, 254-255.
Karl Marx and Frederick Engles, Manifesto of the Communist Party (Peking: Foreign Language P., 1957), 37.
Jeremy Brecher, writer-prod., "Global Village or Global Pillage" (Cambridge, MA: south End Press, 1999), video.