Jen Forbus turned 50 this year. She is in good health and says her life has only gotten better as she has grown older. Forbus resides in Lorain, Ohio, not far from Cleveland; she is single and has no children, but her parents and sisters are nearby. She works, remotely, as an editorial supervisor for an educational publishing company, a job that she loves. She is on track to pay off her mortgage in the next 10 years, and having recently made her last car payment, she is otherwise debt-free. By almost any measure, Forbus is middle class.
Still, she worries about her future. Forbus would like to stop working when she is 65. She has no big retirement dreams — she is not planning to move to Florida or to take extravagant vacations. She hopes to spend her later years enjoying family and friends and pursuing different hobbies. But she knows that she hasn’t set aside enough money to ensure that she can realize even this modest ambition.
A former high school teacher, Forbus says she has around $200,000 in total savings. She earns a high five-figure salary and contributes 9 percent of it to the 401(k) plan that she has through her employer. The company also makes a matching contribution that is equivalent to 5 percent of her salary. A widely accepted rule of thumb among personal-finance experts is that your retirement income needs to be close to 80 percent of what you earned before retiring if you hope to maintain your lifestyle. Forbus figures that she can retire comfortably on around $1 million, although if her house is paid off, she might be able to get by with a bit less. She is not factoring Social Security benefits into her calculations. “I feel like it’s too uncertain and not something I can depend on,” she says.
But even if the stock market delivers blockbuster returns over the next 15 years, her goal is going to be difficult to reach — and this assumes that she doesn’t have a catastrophic setback, like losing her job or suffering a debilitating illness.
She also knows that markets don’t always go up. During the 2008 global financial crisis, her 401(k) lost a third of its value, which was a scarring experience. From the extensive research that she has done, Forbus has become a fairly savvy investor; she’s familiar with all of the major funds and has 60 percent of her money in stocks and the rest in fixed income, which is generally the recommended ratio for people who are some years away from retiring. Still, Forbus would prefer that her retirement prospects weren’t so dependent on her own investing acumen. “It makes me very nervous,” she concedes. She and her friends speak with envy of the pensions that their parents and grandparents had. “I wish that were an option for us,” she says.
The sentiment is understandable. With pensions, otherwise known as defined-benefit plans, your employer invests on your behalf, and you are promised a fixed monthly income upon retirement. With 401(k)s, which are named after a section of the tax code, you choose from investment options that your company gives you, and there is no guarantee of what you will get back, only limits on what you can put in. This is why they are known as defined-contribution plans. Pensions still exist but mainly for unionized jobs. In the private sector, they have largely been replaced by 401(k)s, which came along in the early 1980s. Generally, contributions to 401(k)s are pretax dollars — you pay income tax when you withdraw the money — and these savings vehicles have been a bonanza for a lot of Americans.
Not all companies offer 401(k)s, however, and millions of private-sector employees lack access to workplace retirement plans. Availability is just one problem; contributing is another. Many people who have 401(k)s put little if any money into their accounts. With Americans now aging out of the work force in record numbers — according to the Alliance for Lifetime Income, a nonprofit founded by a group of financial-services companies, 4.1 million people will turn 65 this year, part of what the AARP and others have called the “silver tsunami” — the holes in the retirement system are becoming starkly apparent. U.S. Census Bureau data indicates that in 2017 49 percent of Americans ages 55 to 66 had “no personal retirement savings.”
The savings shortfall is no surprise to Teresa Ghilarducci, an economist at the New School in New York. She has long predicted that the shift to 401(k)s would leave vast numbers of Americans without enough money to retire on, reducing many of them to poverty or forcing them to continue working into their late 60s and beyond. That so many people still do not have 401(k)s or find themselves, like Jen Forbus, in such tenuous circumstances when they do, is proof that what she refers to as this “40-year experiment with do-it-yourself pensions” has been “an utter failure.”
It certainly appears to be failing a large segment of the working population, and while Ghilarducci has been making that case for years, more and more people are now coming around to her view. Her latest book, “Work, Retire, Repeat: The Uncertainty of Retirement in the New Economy,” which was published in March, is drawing a lot of attention: She has been interviewed on NPR and C-SPAN and has testified on Capitol Hill.
It is no longer just fellow progressives who are receptive to her message. Ghilarducci used to be an object of scorn on the right, once drawing the megaphonic wrath of Rush Limbaugh. Today, though, even some conservatives admit that her assessment of the retirement system is basically correct. Indeed, Kevin Hassett, who was a senior economic adviser to President Trump, teamed up with Ghilarducci not long ago to devise a plan that would help low- and middle-income Americans save more for retirement. Their proposal is the basis for legislation currently before Congress.
And Ghilarducci recently found her critique being echoed by one of the most powerful figures on Wall Street. In his annual letter to investors, Larry Fink, the chairman and chief executive of BlackRock, one of the world’s largest asset-management companies, wrote that the United States was facing a retirement crisis due in no small part to self-directed retirement financing. Fink said that for most Americans, replacing defined-benefit plans with defined-contribution plans had been “a shift from financial certainly to financial uncertainty” and suggested that it was time to abandon the “you’re on your own” approach.
While that isn’t likely to happen anytime soon, it seems fair to ask whether the country as a whole has been well served by the 401(k) revolution. The main beneficiaries have been higher-income workers; instead of making an economically secure retirement possible for more people, 401(k)s have arguably become another driver of the inequality that is a defining feature of American life.
When it comes to generating wealth, 401(k)s have been an extraordinary success. The Investment Company Institute, a financial-industry trade group, calculates that the roughly 700,000 401(k) plans now in existence hold more than $7 trillion in assets. But the gains have gone primarily to those who were already at or near the top. According to the Federal Reserve, the value of the median retirement-saving account for households in the 90th to 100th income percentile has more than quintupled during the last 30 years and is currently more than $500,000. In one sense, it is not surprising that the affluent have profited to this degree from 401(k)s: The more money you can invest, the more money you stand to make.
In 2024, annual pretax contributions for employees are capped at $23,000, but with an employer match and possibly also an after-tax contribution (which is permitted under some plans), the maximum can reach $69,000. Workers 50 and over are also allowed to kick in an additional $7,500, potentially pushing the total to $76,500. Needless to say, only a sliver of the U.S. work force can contribute anything like that to their 401(k)s.
The withdrawal rules have evolved in a way that also favors high earners. You are generally not supposed to begin taking money from a 401(k) before you are 59½; doing so could incur a 10 percent penalty (on top of the income-tax hit). What’s more, you can now put off withdrawing money until age 73; previously, you had to begin drawing down 401(k)s by 70½. Those extra years are an added tax benefit for retirees who are in no rush to tap their 401(k)s.
People in lower-income brackets may have also made money from 401(k)s but hardly enough to retire on with Social Security. In 2022, the median retirement account for households in the 20th through 39th percentile held just $20,000. For this segment of the working population, 401(k)s sometimes end up serving a very different purpose. They become a source of emergency funds, not retirement income. But then, for many of these people, retirement seems like an impossibility.
Laura Gendreau directs a program called Stand by Me, a joint venture between the United Way of Delaware and the state government that provides free financial counseling. She says that when she asks clients if they are putting aside any money for retirement, they often look at her in disbelief: “They say, ‘How do you expect me to save for retirement when I’m living paycheck to paycheck?’” She and her colleagues try to identify expenditures that can be eliminated or reduced so that people can start saving at least a small portion of what they earn. But she says that some clients are having such a hard time just getting by that they can’t fathom being able to retire. Sometimes it does not even occur to them to look into whether their employers offer 401(k)s. “They have no idea,” Gendreau says.
Ghilarducci has been hearing this sort of thing for years. Her career in academia began around the time that 401(k)s first emerged, and from the start, she regarded these savings plans with skepticism. For one thing, she feared that a lot of people would never have access to them. But she also felt that 401(k)s were unsuitable for lower-income Americans, who often struggled to save money or who might not have either the time or the knowledge to manage their own investments. In her judgment, the offloading of retirement risk onto workers was worse than just an economic misstep — it represented a betrayal of the social contract.
Ghilarducci, who is 66, has the unusual distinction of being a high school dropout with a Ph.D. in economics. She also has firsthand experience of economic hardship, and her working-class roots have shaped her worldview. She was raised by a single mother in Roseville, Calif., and money was always tight. Despite a turbulent home life, she excelled academically and was able to take advantage of a program that allowed California students with strong grades and test scores to attend schools within the California university system without charge.
After being accepted at the University of California, San Diego, she stopped going to high school — it bored her — and never graduated. A year later, she transferred to the University of California, Berkeley. Neither university knew that she had not completed high school. “They didn’t ask, and I didn’t tell,” she says with a laugh. She majored in economics at Berkeley and also obtained her doctorate there. She then taught at the University of Notre Dame for 25 years (she joined the faculty of the New School in 2008). During that time, she acquired a national reputation for her expertise on retirement.
In 2008, Ghilarducci proposed replacing 401(k)s with “guaranteed retirement accounts,” a program that would combine mandatory individual and employer contributions with tax credits and that would guarantee at least a 3 percent annual return, adjusted for inflation. Her plan drew the wrath of voices on the right — the conservative pundit James Pethokoukis called her “the most dangerous woman in America.”
But her timing proved to be apt: That year, the global financial crisis imperiled the retirement plans of millions of Americans. Ghilarducci suggested that if the government was going to bail out the banks, it also had an obligation to help people whose 401(k)s had tanked. Her idea inflamed the right: Rush Limbaugh attacked her during his daily radio show, which brought her a wave of hate mail.
Her hostility to 401(k)s is partly anchored in a belief that when it comes to retirement, the country was on a better path in the past. In the 1950s and 1960s, many Americans could count on pensions and Social Security to provide them with a decent retirement. It was a different era, of course — back then, men (and it was almost always men) often spent their entire careers with the same companies. And even at their peak, pensions were not available to everyone; only around half of all employees ever had one. Still, in Ghilarducci’s view, it was a time when the United States put more emphasis on the interests of working-class Americans, including ensuring that they could retire with some degree of economic security.
She portrays the move to defined contribution retirement plans as part of the sharp rightward turn that the United States took under President Ronald Reagan, when the notion of individual responsibility became economic dogma — what the Yale University political scientist Jacob Hacker has called “the great risk shift.” The downside of this shift was laid bare by the great recession. Many older Americans lost their savings and were forced to scavenge for work.
This was the subject of the journalist Jessica Bruder’s book “Nomadland,” for which Ghilarducci was interviewed and that was the basis for the Oscar-winning film of the same title. To Ghilarducci, the portraits in “Nomadland” — of lives upended, of the indignity of being old and having to scramble for food and shelter — presaged the insecure future that awaited millions of other older Americans. And Ghilarducci believes that with record numbers of people now reaching retirement age, that grim future is arriving.
Her new book makes a powerful case for why all working people deserve a comfortable, dignified retirement and why, for so many Americans, the current retirement system is incapable of providing that. Her nationwide book tour has had the feel of a victory lap, although the vindication she can plausibly claim is no cause for celebration. “It’s the pinnacle of my career because what I told people would happen is happening,” she says. “So it’s a big told-you-so, and that told-you-so is on the backs of around 40 million middle-class workers who will be poor or near-poor elders.”
Ghilarducci finds it outrageous that Americans who don’t have enough money set aside for retirement are now being told that the solution to their financial woes is to just keep working. Forcing senior citizens to stay on the job is cruel, she says, and especially so if it involves physically demanding labor. She has observed that older workers often have “a shame hunch” — their body language suggests embarrassment. They are spending their last years in quiet humiliation.
To Ghilarducci, all of this represents a retreat from the ideals that fueled America’s prosperity and made the United States a beacon of opportunity. As she writes in her book, “A signature achievement of the postwar period — the democratization of who has control over the pace and content of their time after a lifetime of work — is being reversed.”
Back in the 1960s and 1970s, many companies, in addition to providing their employees with pensions, offered tax-deferred profit-sharing programs, which were available mostly to executives. But there was a lot of murkiness surrounding these defined-contribution plans — and a lot of concern that the I.R.S. might eventually ban them. When Congress passed the Revenue Act of 1978, it included an addition to the Internal Revenue Code that was intended to provide greater clarity about how these plans were to be structured and who could participate. The provision, which took effect in 1980, was called Section 401(k). According to a 2014 Bloomberg article, the staff members who drafted it thought it was a minor regulatory tweak, of no particular consequence. One former senior congressional aide was quoted as saying it was “an insignificant provision in a very large bill. It took on a life of its own afterwards.”
That’s because Ted Benna saw something in that new section of the Internal Revenue Code that had eluded the people who wrote it. Benna, a retirement-benefits consultant, was in his suburban Philadelphia office on a Saturday afternoon in 1979, trying to figure out how to devise a deferred-compensation plan for one of his firm’s clients, a local bank. At the time, the top marginal tax rate was 70 percent, and the bank wanted to see if there was a way to award bonuses to its executives that could limit their tax bill.
As Benna read the provisions of section 401(k), a solution dawned on him: The language seemed to indicate that he could create a plan in which the bonuses were put in a tax-deferred retirement plan. There was a catch, though. Under the terms of 401(k), this could be done only if rank-and-file employees participated in the plan. Benna knew that getting them to agree to set aside some of their pay would not be easy, so he came up with a sweetener — he proposed that the bank would partly match the contributions of its employees.
The bank balked at Benna’s proposal; it was concerned that regulators would rule the scheme illegal. Benna’s own firm decided to implement the idea, however, and it proved wildly popular with the company’s 50 or so employees. Benna and his colleagues called the plan “cash-op,” but the name never caught on, and instead came to be known as the 401(k). The new savings vehicle eventually did run into government resistance, when the Reagan administration, concerned about the lost tax revenues, tried to eliminate 401(k)s in 1986 — this notwithstanding the fact that 401(k)s, with their promise of individual empowerment, seemed emblematic of the so-called Reagan Revolution. But by then it was too late. A number of companies were already offering 401(k)s to their employees, and the financial industry, eyeing a lucrative new revenue stream, threw its lobbying muscle behind these investment plans.
Benna is 82 now, and I recently met with him in York, Pa. (He was there visiting family; he lives near Williamsport, Pa.) He is still working. He told me that his religious faith had compelled him to put off his own retirement. “The Creator didn’t create us to spend 30 years doing nothing,” he said. A tall, unassuming man, Benna suggested that we meet at the Cracker Barrel in York. There, over iced tea and coffee, we talked about the trillion-dollar business that resulted from his close reading of section 401(k). Benna had been quoted in the past voicing some misgivings about these savings plans. He told the magazine Smart Money in 2011, for instance, that he had given rise to a “monster.”
But he explained to me that the remorse he expressed had nothing to do with 401(k)s themselves, which he said had helped convert millions of Americans from “spenders into savers.” Rather, what he regretted was the complexity of many plans — he thought a lot of employees were overwhelmed by all the investment options — and the fact that the financial-services industry profited from them to the degree that it did. Benna said that the advent of the 401(k) turned the mutual-fund industry into the colossus that it is today and that too many fund managers charged what he considers unjustifiably high fees. “Over the life of an investment, it is a real hit — it is gigantic,” he says.
Yet Benna rejects the idea that 401(k)s took the country in the wrong direction. He contends that traditional pensions were doomed with or without 401(k)s. He recalls visiting Bethlehem Steel in the 1980s to talk about 401(k)s. “I told them that they had to start helping their employees save for retirement, and their H.R. person said, ‘Our employees don’t need to do that because we take care of them for life.’ And what happened to that?” (Bethlehem Steel filed for bankruptcy in 2001, and the government had to fulfill its pension obligations.) Likewise, he doesn’t think it is true that 401(k)s have really only benefited the well-off. He mentioned his brother-in-law, who lived in York and worked as a supervisor at Caterpillar, the construction-equipment manufacturer. When Caterpillar announced in 1996 that it was relocating its York plant to Illinois, he chose to take early retirement rather than uproot his family. “He told me that was only possible because of his 401(k),” Benna said. But he conceded that too many people are being let down by the retirement system and that something needs to be done to help them save for their later years.
Benna is one of a number of experts who believe that mandates will ultimately be needed to improve retirement financing — that the voluntary approach, in which companies decide whether they want to sponsor 401(k)s and employees decide whether they wish to participate, is leaving too many gaps. He thinks all companies above a certain size should have to offer employees 401(k)s or alternative retirement-savings options. (Starting next year, employers that establish new 401(k) plans will be required to automatically enroll workers in those plans. There is still no obligation, however, to actually provide the plans themselves.)
Other countries go further. Australia’s Superannuation Guarantee requires companies to contribute the equivalent of 11 percent of an employee’s monthly pay to an investment account that is controlled by the worker, who can also put in additional money. The “Super,” as it is known, includes full-time and part-time workers and has proved to be enormously successful. With its relatively small population — just 27 million — Australia now has the world’s fourth-highest per capita contributions to a pension system, and almost 80 percent of its work force is covered. BlackRock’s Larry Fink says that “Australia’s experience with Supers could be a good model for American policymakers to study and build on.”
The desire to give less affluent Americans the chance to build a decent nest egg is one that is shared across ideological lines. That in itself is a big change from, say, the debate about health care reform, which bitterly divided liberals and conservatives. (It is worth recalling that the Affordable Care Act was enacted in 2010 without a single Republican vote.) In fact, concern about the retirement-savings shortfall has become a rare source of bipartisan cooperation in Washington, and it has also yielded some unlikely alliances.
A few years ago, Kevin Hassett, who was chairman of the White House’s Council of Economic Advisers for a portion of Donald Trump’s presidency, became familiar with Ghilarducci’s work and sent her, unsolicited, the draft of a paper he was writing about the retirement-savings gap. She replied enthusiastically, and he suggested that she write the paper with him. Their partnership eventually yielded a plan for helping lower- and middle-income Americans save for retirement.
The idea they hatched was to make the Thrift Savings Plan, a government-sponsored retirement program for federal employees and members of the uniformed services, open to all Americans. T.S.P., which in total assets is the largest defined-contribution program in the country, includes automatic enrollment and matching contributions from the government. A number of states now offer retirement-savings plans for people whose employers don’t provide 401(k)s, but none of these include matching contributions, which many experts believe are an important incentive for getting workers to set aside a portion of their own salaries.
Ghilarducci and Hassett think that only a federal program in which savings accounts of eligible workers are topped up with government money will significantly increase the participation and savings rates of low-income Americans. Their proposal is the basis for the Retirement Savings for Americans Act, a bill recently introduced by the U.S. senators John Hickenlooper and Thom Tillis and the U.S. representatives Terri Sewell and Lloyd Smucker. Two are Democrats; two are Republicans.
This past January, another bipartisan collaboration — between Alicia Munnell, who was an economist in the Clinton administration and who now serves as the director of Boston College’s Center for Retirement Research, and Andrew Biggs, a senior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute, a conservative think tank — published a paper calling for a reduction or an end to the 401(k) tax benefit.
Their research showed that it had not led to more participation in the program nor had it significantly increased the amount that Americans in the aggregate were saving for retirement. It was mostly just a giveaway to upper-income investors and a costly one at that. They estimated that it deprived the Treasury of almost $200 billion in revenue annually. They proposed reducing or even ending the tax-deferred status of 401(k)s and using the added revenue to shore up Social Security.
When I spoke to Biggs, he emphasized that he was not against 401(k)s. On balance, he thinks that they have worked well, and he also says that some of the criticism aimed at them is no longer valid. For instance, the do-it-yourself aspect is overstated: Most plans, for instance, now offer target-date funds, which automatically adjust your asset allocation depending on your age and goals, freeing you from having to continuously readjust your portfolio yourself. He acknowledges that rescinding the tax preferences could be tricky politically: The people who have chiefly benefited from them are also the people who write checks to campaigns. But he is confident that Americans can ultimately be persuaded to give up the tax advantages. “If we say to people, ‘Look, we can slash your Social Security benefits or increase your Social Security taxes, or we can reduce this useless subsidy that goes to rich people who don’t need the money’ — well, that’s a little more compelling.”
Hassett told me that his work with Ghilarducci does not represent any softening of his faith in the free market. Quite the opposite: He sees government intervention to boost retirement savings as a necessary step to preserving American capitalism. Hassett has been concerned for some time that the country is drifting toward socialism — the subject of his most recent book — and part of the reason is that too many Americans are economically marginalized and have come to feel that the system doesn’t work to their benefit.
“They feel disconnected, and they are disconnected,” Hassett says. Having the government help them save for retirement would be prudent. “It would give them more of a stake in the success of the free-enterprise system,” he says. “I think it’s important for long-run political stability that everybody gets a stake.”
Jen Forbus is not economically marginalized, but many in her community struggle. Lorain, a city of about 65,000 on the shore of Lake Erie, has never recovered from the loss of a Ford assembly plant and two steel plants. Around 28 percent of Lorain’s residents now live in poverty. By the grim standards of her area, Forbus is doing well. “I’m definitely privileged,” she says. Even so, she knows that despite her diligent saving and careful budgeting, there is a good chance that she will not be able to retire at 65. She dreads the prospect of having to remain in the labor market as an elderly person. “Something like waitressing — past a certain age, that’s really difficult,” she says. And she admits that she finds it jarring that even for someone like her, retirement may be an unachievable objective. “I do feel our system fails too many people,” she says.
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