Profiles
The Hand on the Lever
How Janet Yellen is redefining the Federal Reserve.
by Nicholas Lemann July 21, 2014
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This was not Yellen’s first full-dress official appearance. She had gone to Chicago a few weeks earlier, to speak at a conference for neighborhood-revitalization organizations—not the venue a new Fed chair would ordinarily choose for a maiden speech. Yellen was sending a signal. As she put it that day, “Although we work through financial markets, our goal is to help Main Street, not Wall Street.” More than five years after the financial crisis, historically high numbers of Americans are still out of the labor force, working part time when they’d rather be full time, or unemployed for more than six months. Yellen spoke mainly about unemployment, and told the stories of three blue-collar Chicagoans, two black, one white, who had lost their jobs in the recession. Her staff had found these people for her, and she had spoken to them on the phone before her speech. Two of the three—from Chicago’s desperately poor West Side—had criminal records.
The Federal Reserve Board celebrated its centennial last year. Its main activity has been to try to keep the economy of the United States healthy by making adjustments in interest rates, while also maintaining an atmosphere of dignified, scholastic, uncommunicative grandeur—it’s the Skull and Bones of American governance. Yellen is notable not only for being the first female Fed chair but also for being the most liberal since Marriner Eccles, who held the job during the Roosevelt and Truman Administrations. Ordinarily, the Fed’s role is to engender a sense of calm in the eternally jittery financial markets, not to crusade against urban poverty. The day after Yellen’s speech in Chicago, I visited her at the Fed’s headquarters, in Washington, in a classically inspired stone building with oversized bronze double doors facing Constitution Avenue. Sixty-seven years old, she has hazel eyes, sharp features, and an informal manner. She speaks with a distinct trace of old Brooklyn: “goyd” for guide, “wount” for wouldn’t. She recalled how she had decided where to make her first speech. . . .
Nicholas Lemann, Profiles, “The Hand on the Lever,” The New Yorker, July 21, 2014, p. 42
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