On November 14, 1972, something very “wow” happened: the Dow Jones Industrial Average closed above 1,000 points for the very first time. Now, if you’re like most people, the word “Dow” probably feels like one of those words you should understand but really don’t, like “blockchain” or “carbon footprint.” So, let’s break it down in a way that you’d actually get.
Picture the Dow as a giant scoreboard for American capitalism. It’s a big number that supposedly tells us, “Hey! We’re doing great!” or “Uh-oh! We’re doomed!” It averages the stock prices of 30 big, important companies—your IBMs, your McDonalds, your General Electrics, companies that supposedly reflect the American economic mood. The Dow goes up when people think the economy’s going up, and down when people think the economy is tanking.
In 1972, when the Dow hit that 1,000 mark, it was like crossing into four-digit territory in high score bragging rights. It was a milestone, a big deal, like finding out your credit score starts with a 7 instead of a 5. Americans, staring at this nice round number, thought, “Okay, we’re on the up-and-up. Life’s going somewhere.” People in 1972 looked at that 1,000 points and thought, “Wow, capitalism is really killing it!”
Flash forward to today, and our Dow is floating somewhere above 30,000. Yes, 30,000. So what does this mean? Have we unlocked some next-level prosperity? Or is it a fancy number for the big guys on Wall Street while everyone else is just trying to afford almond milk? The short answer: It’s complicated. The longer answer: We’re about to go on a little historical journey.
When the Dow was soaring at 1,000, most people had pensions, which basically meant you worked your whole life, retired, and then the company paid you for the rest of your life. It was like winning a small lottery that you didn’t even have to play. Fast forward to today, and instead of pensions, we have 401(k)s, which means you pay for your retirement, and if the Dow isn’t soaring, your “golden years” might look more like “barely scraping by” years. So, when the Dow hits a new high, it’s more like a high-five among a small circle of hedge fund managers than an actual indicator of how we’re all doing.
This is where it gets fun—and by “fun,” I mean “not fun at all.” When only a handful of people feel the benefits of a rising Dow, it creates what economists call “a really big problem.” It’s the economic equivalent of planning a huge party, handing out VIP passes, and then wondering why everyone else is sulking in the corner, annoyed. Throughout history, when a country piles all the wealth onto a few folks at the top, while everyone else is working themselves into the ground, things get rocky. Think of Rome right before it fell: You had emperors in palaces, parties, and fountains that sprayed wine while everyone else was starving and wondering when they’d see actual water. Then there’s France, pre-Revolution, where the aristocrats wore powdered wigs and ate cakes, and the peasants had, well… feelings.
Imagine our economy like a ship. And let’s say we keep stacking more and more treasure on one side, giving all the gold to the captain and first-class passengers. Sure, the top deck folks are having a blast, but the ship is tilting so hard that those of us down in steerage are already knee-deep in water. How long do you think that ship is staying afloat? Exactly. Not long. And it’s the same with the economy: you can’t keep piling up wealth on one side without causing a whole lot of problems on the other.
So here we are today, with the Dow at over 30,000, a number that sounds like it should be on an episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Yet, 80% of stocks in the market are owned by the top 10% of Americans. For the rest of us, the Dow hitting 30,000 is about as relevant as an invitation to Jeff Bezos’s yacht. You know it exists, and maybe you’d like to go, but you’re not on the list, and you’re probably not gonna be.
The Dow might be soaring, but people are still struggling to afford groceries, rent, and healthcare. It’s like looking at a giant Thanksgiving dinner through the window while you’re standing outside with an empty plate. You keep hearing that things are great, but the door’s locked, and they’re not letting you in. And while it’s tempting to just shrug and say, “That’s capitalism,” remember that no country can stay stable for long when people feel shut out of its prosperity.
The stock market, despite all the drama and ticker symbols, is really just a symbol of confidence. When the Dow goes up, we’re told, “Hey, things are looking good!” But good for who? Just like back in 1972, that number isn’t for everyone. The difference now is that we’re more aware of the gaps, the inequality, the feeling that the economy’s top-floor party is leaving everyone else in the dust.
52 years after that first big milestone, with the Dow at dizzying heights. It’s time to ask ourselves, what kind of country do we want this number to reflect? Is it just a skyscraper that keeps climbing, inaccessible to most? Or can we do a little remodeling to make sure that when the elevator goes up, everyone gets a ticket to ride?
The Dow may be high, but as history shows us, that height won’t matter if the foundation below isn’t steady. If we don’t spread the wealth, if we don’t bring more people up with us, that skyscraper may start to look less like a symbol of prosperity and more like an ivory tower—one that’s teetering on a shaky foundation.
