Populism, Class Identity, and the American Dream
The news cluster illustrates how characters from 'The Sopranos,' representing a specific working-class, immigrant-rooted demographic striving for a version of the American Dream (even if through illicit means), would likely align with populist political figures. This highlights the timeless concept of how economic aspirations, class identity, and a sense of perceived grievance or desire for disruption can drive support for populist movements, transcending traditional political divides and even moral boundaries. The characters' pursuit of success and status, however unconventional, resonates with the promises often made by populist leaders to a segment of the population feeling overlooked or disenfranchised.
Populism, Class, and the American Dream
Michael Imperioli’s recent observation, positing that the characters of The Sopranos would likely be ardent Trump supporters if the show were set today, offers more than just a passing pop culture commentary. It pricks at a deeper, more enduring truth about the American psyche and the perennial dance between class identity, economic aspiration, and populist appeal. This isn't a new phenomenon, but a recurring pattern, a kind of Lindy effect in political sociology, where the longer an idea has been around, the longer it is likely to persist.
The Soprano crew, for all their illicit dealings, embodies a distinctly American striving. They are rooted in an immigrant experience, driven by a fierce desire for status, wealth, and a measure of respect that they feel is denied to them by conventional society. Their version of the American Dream involves big houses, luxury cars, and a certain patriarchal authority, all acquired outside the established, often perceived as rigged, system. This demographic—working-class, often feeling overlooked or disrespected by elites, and hungry for a slice of prosperity—forms fertile ground for populist movements. They seek not just economic improvement, but a validation of their identity and a disruption of the very structures they believe hold them back.
The Timeless Call of the "Common Man"
Populism, at its heart, is less an ideology and more a political style. It posits a virtuous, unified "people" against a corrupt, often distant "elite." Its origins are ancient, visible in the demagogues of classical Athens, but its modern American form took shape in the 19th century. Andrew Jackson, for instance, rode to power on a wave of popular resentment against the entrenched aristocracy and the perceived machinations of the Second Bank of the United States. His appeal was to the "common man," the farmer and the laborer, who felt disenfranchised by the East Coast establishment. Jackson promised to restore power to the people, to dismantle the corrupt institutions, and to ensure that the American Dream was accessible not just to the privileged few, but to all who toiled.
This narrative—of a strong leader who speaks directly to the grievances of an overlooked class, promising to break the existing order and restore a lost sense of fairness or opportunity—recurs across eras and cultures. It thrives when the traditional paths to the American Dream feel blocked, when economic anxieties are high, and when a segment of the population feels culturally disrespected or politically ignored. The Sopranos, in their pursuit of an unconventional American Dream, would naturally gravitate towards a figure who champions disruption, who promises to shake up the establishment, and who speaks a language that resonates with their own sense of grievance and aspiration.
The appeal is not necessarily about specific policies, but about a feeling: a feeling of being seen, understood, and championed. It’s about a leader who seems to cut through the perceived hypocrisy and condescension of the established order, mirroring the Sopranos' own disdain for the rules they believe don't apply to them. In this context, the American Dream becomes less about pure legality and more about the raw pursuit of success and status, by any means necessary, validated by a leader who promises to make "America great again" for those who feel it has left them behind.
So, as long as there are segments of society feeling economically or culturally disenfranchised, yearning for a version of the American Dream that feels just out of reach, and perceiving an indifferent or hostile elite, will the disruptive siren song of populism always find an eager audience?