New Year’s Eve Reckoning: An economy that works for the rich, not for working families

By James J. Devine

As the holiday lights come down and Americans mark New Year’s Eve, the Trump administration is closing out the year by touting strong GDP growth and a buoyant stock market as proof of what the president calls the “greatest economy in the history of our country.”

Those topline indicators, however, tell only part of the story. Beneath them lies a familiar and troubling reality: prosperity that is unevenly distributed, leaving many families anxious about costs, stability, and opportunity even as financial markets thrive.

Over the past year, wealth has continued to concentrate at the very top. By several estimates, U.S. billionaires—roughly 900 individuals—saw their combined wealth rise sharply, reaching record levels. A small handful of people captured a disproportionate share of those gains, emblematic of an economy that increasingly rewards capital far more than work.

Few figures symbolize this divide more clearly than Elon Musk, whose net worth has surged dramatically in a short period, surpassing the economic output of some entire nations.

At the same time, everyday Americans are experiencing a different economy. Polling from AP/NORC shows widespread concern about the cost of groceries, electricity, and other essentials. Nearly half of the respondents reported delaying purchases or hunting for the lowest prices. Many households are leaning more heavily on “buy now, pay later” services—tools that can be helpful in a pinch but often mask deeper financial strain.

The gap between headline success and lived experience is also visible closer to home in cities like Newark, New Jersey.

As the year turns, Newark is often cited as a comeback story, buoyed by major downtown investment: new high-rise residential towers, corporate headquarters for companies such as Panasonic and Audible, and long-promised urban renewal projects clustered around transit hubs and cultural institutions.

Yet many longtime residents describe this transformation as a form of “jobless gentrification.” Property values and rents have risen sharply, but high-paying job growth for Newark residents has lagged. For families already living on the margins, the city’s revival can feel less like opportunity and more like displacement.

The economic disparities are stark. Roughly one in four Newark residents lives in poverty—more than double the national average. Median household income in the city remains far below county and statewide levels, and the racial income gap is among the most pronounced in the country, with white households earning significantly more than Black and Latino households.

Those income gaps are reinforced by an even wider wealth divide. New Jersey has one of the largest racial wealth gaps in the nation, and Newark reflects that reality acutely. Homeownership in the city hovers around 22 percent, a consequence of decades of redlining, disinvestment, and a chronic shortage of affordable housing. As new market-rate developments rise downtown, many residents remain locked out of the primary way American families build wealth.

Education and employment barriers compound the problem. Too many Newark residents—particularly in historically underserved neighborhoods—face limited access to job training aligned with the city’s evolving economy. A significant share of adults lack a high school diploma or require remediation for college-level coursework, while many of the new jobs being created demand credentials or skills not readily accessible to the local workforce.

Quality-of-life disparities further underscore the unevenness of Newark’s revival. The city’s lead-in-water crisis exposed deep environmental justice failures and lingering neglect of basic infrastructure. Health outcomes and life expectancy vary sharply between Newark and nearby suburban communities, reflecting long-standing inequities in access to care, clean environments, and economic stability.

Newark’s story, like that of many American cities, illustrates a central challenge as the new year begins: growth alone does not guarantee shared prosperity. Without deliberate policies to expand affordable housing, invest in education and workforce development, and protect vulnerable communities, revitalization risks becoming another chapter in a familiar pattern—one where investment flows in, but too many residents are left behind.

Many—elderly and living on fixed incomes—remain displaced weeks later, unable to retrieve belongings and uncertain whether they will be able to return.

Local reporting points to neglected infrastructure, slow responses, and a development model that prioritizes market-rate growth over housing stability.

As one long-term tenant put it, “They’re creating a new downtown, and people like me don’t fit into it.”

City and state priorities have fueled this tension. Public funds and tax incentives have flowed to high-profile development projects, including arena renovations and new sports facilities, even as residents struggle with housing insecurity. These dollars come from captured property taxes that might otherwise support basic services, raising hard questions about balance and accountability.

Workers in New Jersey are facing similar pressures, as a wave of permanent layoffs and plant closures spreads across the state.

More than 13,000 jobs are slated to be eliminated by early 2026 across nearly 100 companies, part of a broader pattern of corporate consolidation and relocation, even as some sectors of New Jersey’s economy continue to post solid earnings.

The scale of job losses in 2025 has been striking. Layoff announcements through the first three quarters of the year already exceed those recorded in all of 2024, reaching levels not seen since the economic dislocation of 2020. Economists note that while select industries have added jobs in certain months, the overall labor market has shown signs of stagnation, with New Jersey’s unemployment rate remaining above the national average and net job losses appearing in several quarters.

Many of the cuts are tied to corporate restructuring decisions rather than economic distress. Henry Repeating Arms has closed its Bayonne manufacturing facility to consolidate production in Wisconsin. Geodis Logistics is shuttering its Monroe site and shifting operations to Pennsylvania to serve a major client.

Anheuser-Busch has announced plans to close its Newark brewery in early 2026. In each case, workers are paying the price for consolidation strategies designed to streamline operations and boost efficiency.

The impact extends well beyond manufacturing. Layoffs have affected pharmaceuticals, including Bristol Myers Squibb and Novartis; retail chains such as Rite Aid and Walmart; financial institutions like JPMorgan Chase; and logistics and distribution firms across the state. These cuts have often occurred alongside continued corporate investment in executive offices, shareholder returns, and real estate, underscoring the disconnect many workers feel between company performance and job security.

For displaced workers, especially older employees, the transition has been particularly difficult. Many face barriers reentering the labor market, including rapidly changing skill requirements and limited access to retraining programs aligned with available jobs. The result is growing economic anxiety in communities that depend on stable employment, even as official indicators suggest parts of the state economy remain resilient.

None of this negates genuine economic strengths. But it underscores a basic truth many Americans recognize as the new year begins: growth alone is not enough. An economy that works well for markets must also work for people—especially those who produce the wealth and keep communities running.

For progressives and mainstream Democrats alike, the task ahead is not to dismiss positive indicators, nor to embrace rhetoric that divides, but to translate growth into broadly shared prosperity. That means investing seriously in affordable housing, healthcare access and education; modernizing infrastructure; supporting workers through transitions in technology and energy; and ensuring that public subsidies deliver public benefit.

It also means strengthening democratic institutions and the rule of law, rejecting fear-based politics and scapegoating, and recommitting to policies that respect human dignity—including humane immigration enforcement and due process.

As 2026 approaches, Americans are looking for practical leadership that acknowledges inequality without giving up on markets, that supports business innovation while insisting on fair wages and consumer protections, and that measures success not only by stock tickers but by whether families can afford to live, work, and plan for the future.

The resources exist to do better. The question for the new year is whether our politics can summon the will to align economic success with social responsibility—and make the next chapter one of shared progress rather than widening divides.