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Franklin Roosevelt’s campaign song for his first presidential run in 1932 was the catchy number titled Happy Days are Here Again!. With America deep in the Great Depression, the uplifting and popular tune helped him win in a landslide. Unfortunately, his “New Deal” prolonged the Depression by seven years and “happy days” wouldn’t really arrive until FDR was gone and World War II ended in 1945.
A campaign song is never a political platform or a documentary or even a reliable indicator of what the candidate will do after the election. It’s marketing puffery, an entertaining form of propaganda. Its intent is to put you in a good mood to vote for a particular candidate, not to inform or educate you.
When not secluded in his Delaware basement during the 2020 campaign, Joe Biden often played “We the People” from the Staple Singers as he walked onto a stage. The theme of the song was “unity” yet as president, he practices precisely the opposite—division, class warfare, and racially-charged rhetoric.
Love him or hate him, Donald Trump acted more faithfully to the spirit of his 2016 song, Twisted Sister’s “We’re Not Gonna Take It”.
In his 1992 campaign, independent presidential contender Ross Perot made an unconventional but largely accurate choice for a descriptive campaign song: Patsy Cline’s “Crazy.”
Forty years ago this year—in 1982—I was a major party nominee in a general election for a seat in Congress. I didn’t have an official campaign song, and I lost to the incumbent. Maybe there was a connection. If I were running today, I think I would choose the inspirational hit from Les Miserables, “Do You Hear the People Sing?”.
If my opponent was a socialist or “progressive” (Is there a difference?), I would love to choose a song for his campaign. He (or she) would certainly object but I’m pretty sure that a 1966 tune from the Beatles called “Taxman” would fit perfectly.
The context in which Paul McCartney and John Lennon wrote the lyrics to “Taxman” is central to the song’s message. In 1966, worldwide fame thrust the Beatles suddenly into the British welfare state’s top income tax bracket, 90 percent. The new Labour Party Prime Minister, Harold Wilson, added a further 5 percent super-tax, which meant that the young musicians owed all but a nickel of every dollar they earned to an outfit that had almost nothing to do with creating their music.
John Lennon didn’t have to “Imagine” a world in which there were “no possessions.” He and his musical comrades got a good taste of it when because of Wilson’s outrageous taxes, they narrowly escaped bankruptcy. Paul, John, George and Ringo were warned by their accountant, “Two of you are close to being bankrupt, and the other two could soon be.” So you can understand why they penned these lyrics:
Let me tell you how it will be.
There’s one for you, nineteen for me,
‘Cause I’m the taxman, yeah, I’m the taxman.
Should five per cent appear too small,
Be thankful I don’t take it all,
‘Cause I’m the taxman, yeah, I’m the taxman.
If you drive a car, I’ll tax the street,
If you try to sit, I’ll tax your seat.
If you get too cold, I’ll tax the heat.
If you take a walk, I’ll tax your feet.
Don’t ask me what I want it for
If you don’t want to pay some more,
‘Cause I’m the taxman, yeah, I’m the taxman.
Now my advice for those who die:
Declare the pennies on your eyes!
‘Cause I’m the taxman, yeah, I’m the taxman.
And you’re working for no one but me.
Not until the tenure of Margaret Thatcher did high earners see a substantial reduction in confiscatory tax rates. She cut those rates in half, which helped transform Britain from “the sick man of Europe” under “democratic socialism” to an engine of economic growth once again.
Campaign songs are part of the political process but even with a good tune, I still find it difficult to sing about government. Given the way government often behaves and the inherent evils associated with concentrated power, I find it more natural to gag. But here’s one song about government I could sing like a bird:
Lawrence writes a weekly op-ed for El American. He is President Emeritus of the Foundation for Economic Education (FEE) in Atlanta, Georgia; and is the author of “Real heroes: inspiring true stories of courage, character, and conviction“ and the best-seller “Was Jesus a Socialist?“ //
Lawrence escribe un artículo de opinión semanal para El American. Es presidente emérito de la Foundation for Economic Education (FEE) en Atlanta, Georgia; y es el autor de “Héroes reales: inspirando historias reales de coraje, carácter y convicción” y el best-seller “¿Fue Jesús un socialista?”