Monday, Jan. 29, 1996

MEET THE MEDIAN FAMILY

By ANDREW HACKER

THIS IS A STORY ABOUT CAROL AND PAUL MEDIAN, she 32 and he 34, married for one year and living just south of Bloomington, Indiana. They are as average as can be. Last year Paul earned $28,449, and Carol made $23,479, precisely the midpoint paychecks for men and women their age. It also happens that their part of Indiana is the population center of the U.S. Since no real-life couple is truly typical, however, I have created the fictional Medians, going by Census figures, to give a sense of the exact middle of American life. In ways good and bad, the Medians' life is far different from the previous generation's. To gain some perspective, one must look back to 1970 to see how their parents lived when they were about the same age.

Both Paul and Carol have full-time jobs. She works for a large book manufacturer, supervising a team of compositors, who tap copy into computers. As it happens, her dad once did that job, which then required casting hot lead. It was considered "men's work." As was common at that time, it paid a high union wage, and Carol's mother never worked. Today there are mainly women at the consoles, and they aren't unionized. (In fact, only 11% of private workers are, down from 28% in 1970.) Carol loves what she does, and her boss just told her she will soon be promoted.

Paul's situation is dicier. He's a loan officer at a local bank. On paper, he is listed as management. But there may be some title inflation here: a recent Department of Labor report found some 16 million people listed as managers, executives or administrators, which means most of them must be fairly far down the ladder. And that really describes Paul. His problem is that in the last year, half the people in his department have been let go.

It's not that business is bad. In fact, the bank is prospering. For efficiency's sake, it has installed LOANEX, a software system that supplants much of Paul's judgment. It is an "experience-based" program containing far more data than any loan officer could have in his head. Would-be borrowers type in answers to questions that appear on the screen. Credit reports are then factored in, after which the software says yes or no. Only if it prints out maybe is Paul's input needed, and this seems to be happening less and less. Nor do things look better higher up the ladder: his bank is in the midst of being absorbed by an out-of-state firm with a reputation for thinning executive ranks. Paul, a college graduate, never thought he might one day be applying for jobless benefits. His father spent his entire career in the same company, where his security was never in doubt. The firm always found a niche for him. No one talks or acts that way in the milieu Paul knows.

By many measures, it looks as if Paul's and Carol's parents had things a lot better. Their counterpart year, 1970, was at the height of the postwar era. During the prior quarter-century, real income almost doubled, raising American living standards to an all-time high. Countries on every continent sought to emulate the American way. However, it soon emerged that economies elsewhere--first in Europe, then in Asia--could match products once made only in the U.S. America's per capita output has now been passed in Finland, Norway, Switzerland and Sweden. Since 1970, most Americans have been working longer and harder to stay in place. Paul's paycheck buys less than a median salary did a generation ago. Moreover, his and Carol's parents managed well with only their fathers' earnings. Today two-thirds of all households depend on two or more incomes, yet find themselves barely ahead.

But interyear comparisons can be deceptive. How much a dollar buys is measured by the Consumer Price Index, which is based on a typical mix of purchases. If salaries seemed to go further in 1970, one reason is that shopping lists were simpler. Paul and Carol recall the days of Keds and typewriters and turntables. Today the CPI includes Nikes, laser printers and multiple-CD changers, which cost more because they do more. Even bread has been upgraded: croissants and exotic grains have replaced blander white loaves. Paul and Carol have two cars; in 1970 only 28% of families did. Moreover, Paul and Carol's high-tech vehicles have higher price tags relative to their family budget. Like a growing number of Americans, they want to think they are middle class, but the symbols of that status are growing more complicated and costly. Paul and Carol dine out a lot or take home prepared meals. And when they find such pleasures straining their budget, they feel their living standard is dropping.

While the Medians occupy the middle, they have less company there than their parents did. The income pyramid is changing. More households are now in the under-$20,000 tier, when measured in inflation-adjusted dollars, because of declining wages and a rise in single-parent families. But there has also been a burgeoning at the top. The number of families with $60,000 or more has grown, while those at over $100,000 have actually tripled. The result: a shrinking and insecure stratum in the middle. Let's see how Paul and Carol are responding to these new configurations.

Paul worries about being fired, while Carol has been told she can anticipate an ascending career. Part of the difference is luck: Paul's bank was acquired by a firm bent on downsizing. But that's not the full story. Recall how Paul seemed resigned to being replaced by LOANEX, as if it were impossible to mount a response. Yet something similar has been happening at Carol's company. It has started asking authors to submit their manuscripts on computer disks so their work can go directly into the typesetting system. Might that mean axing Carol's job? She didn't wait to find out: "I showed my boss that we would need to devise bridge programs so the author's stuff will jibe with the book's format." He gave her the go-ahead, and that will be her new job. She didn't need Bill Gates to tell her that new technologies generate new opportunities.

Carol may be fictional, but is she exceptional? Less than one might think. There is increasing evidence that women are doing better at adapting to new challenges in the world of work. If more are being hired and promoted, it is not just to meet affirmative- action goals or avoid discrimination suits. In increasing instances, they surpass men in the attitudes and abilities employers are looking for. This can be seen early in high school, where girls get better grades. "We listened more carefully to the teachers' assignments," Carol recalls, "while the guys thought they knew it all." The upshot is that more women are accepted by colleges and now outnumber men on campuses. They account for almost 55% of bachelor's degrees, and more than half the enrollments at leading law and medical schools. Many professors note that women are better at organizing their work and write with greater clarity. Of course, parity is still a long way off. Says Carol: "Too few of us raise our hand or advance ideas unless we are called on." She must also overcome perceptions that a woman's voice carries less authority. Yet women have been winning elections up through the state level, and to do so they must win over men. The next step should be executive suites.

The Medians' home life is as fraught with uncertainty as their jobs. Paul and Carol were not so unusual in delaying marriage: today 30% of men and 20% of women are single as they enter their 30s. In 1970 most men were married by 23, most women by 21. Like many members of their generation, Paul and Carol had lived with other people, but those relationships didn't work out. This time they hope to make it last, even while knowing that more than half of all marriages now end in divorce. It is not that people their age are especially selfish or difficult as companions; but they do have a strong sense of self and wish to delineate their own lives. Some of Carol's girlfriends tried to talk her out of taking Paul's name. Marriage, yes; but not too early or all-embracing.

Carol became pregnant while a sophomore in college but felt she didn't want to interrupt her education. In that year, 1983, there were 435 abortions for every 1,000 births, and she was part of those statistics. Her own mother quit school and got married when she found she was pregnant. In fact, it was her father who insisted on "giving the baby a name."

The Medians have no children yet. This would have stood out in 1970, when 92% of women Carol's age had already given birth. "My mom had her third by the time she was 32," she notes. "I want a child, but the time has to be right." Here too the statistics put Carol right in the middle. The current projection is that a typical 1,000 American women will end up having 2,046 children, which is below replacement level. Immigration is the chief reason our population keeps growing.

Some of Carol's diffidence stems from her impending promotion, which will require extended hours and travel. Yet even short of that, the years once reserved for parenthood are seen today as a time for fun. She and Paul are avid skiers, a budget item that can come close to the cost of an additional family member. More than six times as many Americans take vacations abroad now as in 1970; such jaunts are not easily enjoyed with children in tow.

Above all, having children bespeaks a confidence in the years ahead. Such a vision generated the baby boom, the peak years of the postwar period. In those years, citizens willingly invested in education, from kindergarten through graduate school, because they wanted the forthcoming generation to be the best in the world. Today that spirit is strangely lacking. It does not bode well for the next generation of Medians, who may have trouble keeping up with their predecessors, just as Paul and Carol have.