Read this article, which takes its name from John Kenneth Galbraith's book about the postwar economic boom and political culture. It was undoubtedly an unprecedented time in American history, but it ultimately did not quite match mainstream expectations.
The Rise of the Suburbs
Levittown in the early1950s. Flickr/Creative Commons.
The
seeds of a suburban nation were planted in New Deal government
programs. At the height of the Great Depression, in 1932, some 250,000
households lost their property to foreclosure. A year later, half of all
U.S. mortgages were in default. The foreclosure rate stood at more than
one thousand per day. In response, FDR's New Deal created the Home
Owners' Loan Corporation (HOLC), which began purchasing and refinancing
existing mortgages at risk of default.
The HOLC introduced the amortized
mortgage, allowing borrowers to pay back interest and principal
regularly over fifteen years instead of the then standard five-year
mortgage that carried large balloon payments at the end of the contract.
The HOLC eventually owned nearly one of every five mortgages in
America. Though homeowners paid more for their homes under this new
system, home ownership was opened to the multitudes who could now gain
residential stability, lower monthly mortgage payments, and accrue
wealth as property values rose over time.3
Additionally, the
Federal Housing Administration (FHA), another New Deal organization,
increased access to home ownership by insuring mortgages and protecting
lenders from financial loss in the event of a default. Lenders, however,
had to agree to offer low rates and terms of up to twenty or thirty
years. Even more consumers could afford homes. Though only slightly more
than a third of homes had an FHA-backed mortgage by 1964, FHA loans had
a ripple effect, with private lenders granting more and more home loans
even to non-FHA-backed borrowers. Government programs and subsidies
like the HOLC and the FHA fueled the growth of home ownership and the
rise of the suburbs.
Government spending during World War II
pushed the United States out of the Depression and into an economic boom
that would be sustained after the war by continued government spending.
Government expenditures provided loans to veterans, subsidized
corporate research and development, and built the interstate highway
system. In the decades after World War II, business boomed, unionization
peaked, wages rose, and sustained growth buoyed a new consumer economy.
The Servicemen's Readjustment Act (popularly known as the G.I. Bill),
passed in 1944, offered low-interest home loans, a stipend to attend
college, loans to start a business, and unemployment benefits.
The
rapid growth of home ownership and the rise of suburban communities
helped drive the postwar economic boom. Builders created sprawling
neighborhoods of single-family homes on the outskirts of American
cities. William Levitt built the first Levittown, the prototypical
suburban community, in 1946 in Long Island, New York. Purchasing large
acreage, subdividing lots, and contracting crews to build countless
homes at economies of scale, Levitt offered affordable suburban housing
to veterans and their families. Levitt became the prophet of the new
suburbs, and his model of large-scale suburban development was
duplicated by developers across the country. The country's suburban
share of the population rose from 19.5 percent in 1940 to 30.7 percent
by 1960.
Home ownership rates rose from 44 percent in 1940 to almost 62
percent in 1960. Between 1940 and 1950, suburban communities with more
than ten thousand people grew 22.1 percent, and planned communities grew
at an astonishing rate of 126.1 percent.4 As historian Lizabeth Cohen
notes, these new suburbs "mushroomed in territorial size and the
populations they harbored".5 Between 1950 and 1970, America's suburban
population nearly doubled to seventy-four million. Eighty-three percent
of all population growth occurred in suburban places.6
The
postwar construction boom fed into countless industries. As
manufacturers converted from war materials back to consumer goods, and
as the suburbs developed, appliance and automobile sales rose
dramatically. Flush with rising wages and wartime savings, homeowners
also used newly created installment plans to buy new consumer goods at
once instead of saving for years to make major purchases. Credit cards,
first issued in 1950, further increased access to credit. No longer
stymied by the Depression or wartime restrictions, consumers bought
countless washers, dryers, refrigerators, freezers, and, suddenly,
televisions. The percentage of Americans that owned at least one
television increased from 12 percent in 1950 to more than 87 percent in
1960. This new suburban economy also led to increased demand for
automobiles. The percentage of American families owning cars increased
from 54 percent in 1948 to 74 percent in 1959. Motor fuel consumption
rose from some twenty-two million gallons in 1945 to around fifty-nine
million gallons in 1958.7
On the surface, the postwar economic
boom turned America into a land of abundance. For advantaged buyers,
loans had never been easier to obtain, consumer goods had never been
more accessible, single-family homes had never been so cheap, and
well-paying jobs had never been more abundant. "If you had a college
diploma, a dark suit, and anything between the ears," a businessman
later recalled, "it was like an escalator; you just stood there and you
moved up".8 But the escalator did not serve everyone. Beneath aggregate
numbers, racial disparity, sexual discrimination, and economic
inequality persevered, undermining many of the assumptions of an
Affluent Society.
In 1939, real estate appraisers arrived in
sunny Pasadena, California. Armed with elaborate questionnaires to
evaluate the city's building conditions, the appraisers were well versed
in the policies of the HOLC. In one neighborhood, most structures were
rated in "fair" repair, and appraisers noted a lack of "construction
hazards or flood threats". However, they concluded that the area "is
detrimentally affected by 10 owner occupant Negro families". While "the
Negroes are said to be of the better class," the appraisers concluded,
"it seems inevitable that ownership and property values will drift to
lower levels".9
Wealth created by the booming economy filtered
through social structures with built-in privileges and prejudices. Just
when many middle- and working-class white American families began their
journey of upward mobility by moving to the suburbs with the help of
government programs such as the FHA and the G.I. Bill, many African
Americans and other racial minorities found themselves systematically
shut out.
A look at the relationship between federal
organizations such as the HOLC, the FHA, and private banks, lenders, and
real estate agents tells the story of standardized policies that
produced a segregated housing market. At the core of HOLC appraisal
techniques, which reflected the existing practices of private real
estate agents, was the pernicious insistence that mixed-race and
minority-dominated neighborhoods were credit risks.
In partnership with
local lenders and real estate agents, the HOLC created Residential
Security Maps to identify high- and low-risk-lending areas. People
familiar with the local real estate market filled out uniform surveys on
each neighborhood. Relying on this information, the HOLC assigned every
neighborhood a letter grade from A to D and a corresponding color code.
The least secure, highest-risk neighborhoods for loans received a D
grade and the color red. Banks limited loans in such "redlined" areas.10

Black communities in cities such as Detroit, Chicago, Brooklyn, and Atlanta (mapped here) experienced redlining, the process by which banks and other organizations demarcated minority neighborhoods on a map with a red line. Doing so made visible the areas they believed were unfit for their services, directly denying Black residents loans, but also, indirectly, housing, groceries, and other necessities of modern life. National Archives.
1938 Brooklyn redlining map. National Archives.
Phrases
like subversive racial elements and racial hazards pervade the
redlined-area description files of surveyors and HOLC officials. Los
Angeles's Echo Park neighborhood, for instance, had concentrations of
Japanese and African Americans and a "sprinkling of Russians and
Mexicans". The HOLC security map and survey noted that the
neighborhood's "adverse racial influences which are noticeably
increasing inevitably presage lower values, rentals and a rapid decrease
in residential desirability".11
While the HOLC was a fairly
short-lived New Deal agency, the influence of its security maps lived on
in the FHA and Veterans Administration (VA), the latter of which
dispensed G.I. Bill–backed mortgages. Both of these government
organizations, which reinforced the standards followed by private
lenders, refused to back bank mortgages in "redlined" neighborhoods. On
the one hand, FHA- and VA-backed loans were an enormous boon to those
who qualified for them. Millions of Americans received mortgages that
they otherwise would not have qualified for. But FHA-backed mortgages
were not available to all. Racial minorities could not get loans for
property improvements in their own neighborhoods and were denied
mortgages to purchase property in other areas for fear that their
presence would extend the red line into a new community. Levittown, the
poster child of the new suburban America, only allowed whites to
purchase homes. Thus, FHA policies and private developers increased home
ownership and stability for white Americans while simultaneously
creating and enforcing racial segregation.
The exclusionary
structures of the postwar economy prompted protest from African
Americans and other minorities who were excluded. Fair housing, equal
employment, consumer access, and educational opportunity, for instance,
all emerged as priorities of a brewing civil rights movement. In 1948,
the U.S. Supreme Court sided with African American plaintiffs and, in
Shelley v. Kraemer, declared racially restrictive neighborhood housing
covenants - property deed restrictions barring sales to racial
minorities - legally unenforceable. Discrimination and segregation
continued, however, and activists would continue to push for fair
housing practices.
During the 1950s and early 1960s many
Americans retreated to the suburbs to enjoy the new consumer economy and
search for some normalcy and security after the instability of
depression and war. But many could not. It was both the limits and
opportunities of housing, then, that shaped the contours of postwar
American society. Moreover, the postwar suburban boom not only
exacerbated racial and class inequalities, it precipitated a major
environmental crisis.
The introduction of mass production
techniques in housing wrought ecological destruction. Developers sought
cheaper land ever farther way from urban cores, wrecking havoc on
particularly sensitive lands such as wetlands, hills, and floodplains.
"A territory roughly the size of Rhode Island," historian Adam Rome
wrote, "was bulldozed for urban development" every year.12 Innovative
construction strategies, government incentives, high consumer demand,
and low energy prices all pushed builders away from more sustainable,
energy-conserving building projects. Typical postwar tract-houses were
difficult to cool in the summer and heat in the winter. Many were
equipped with malfunctioning septic tanks that polluted local
groundwater. Such destructiveness did not go unnoticed. By the time
Rachel Carson published Silent Spring, a forceful denunciation of the
excessive use of pesticides such as DDT in agricultural and domestic
settings, in 1962, many Americans were already primed to receive her
message.
Stories of kitchen faucets spouting detergent foams and
children playing in effluents brought the point home: comfort and
convenience did not have to come at such cost. And yet most of the
Americans who joined the early environmentalist crusades of the 1950s
and 1960s rarely questioned the foundations of the suburban ideal.
Americans increasingly relied upon automobiles and idealized the
single-family home, blunting any major push to shift prevailing patterns
of land and energy use.13