the edit, vol. 9
the affordability crisis
it’s become the phrase of the year — “the affordability crisis” — but it’s also the quiet through-line of nearly every conversation in america right now. not because of political spin, but because the math simply isn’t mathing for millions of people.
beneath the campaign noise, three things are true at once:
wages have gone up,
inflation has technically cooled,
and yet life feels more expensive than ever.
and that’s because it is.
the numbers underneath the feeling
according to the urban institute’s american affordability tracker, 52% of u.s. households do not earn enough to meet the “true cost of living securely” in their communities. more than half the country is essentially underwater on the basics — housing, food, health care, childcare, utilities.
since 2019:
• groceries ↑ ~32%
• rent ↑ ~50% nationally
• child care for two kids ↑ ~40%
• home prices ↑ ~80%
• household earnings ↑ ~29%
the gap is the crisis.
the week’s reporting
this week’s coverage from cbs, cnn, the guardian, and neutral economic trackers all point to the same pattern: people are working, inflation is “lower,” and yet the cost of simply maintaining a life has drifted far beyond what most families can absorb.
cbs broke down the new pain points:
• average monthly utilities nearing $265
• child care often surpassing rent in dozens of cities
• health insurance premiums rising faster than wages
• food costs that never retreated after the pandemic jumps
and in pennsylvania — a bellwether state and the focus of cnn’s reporting — voters who don’t typically agree on much all described the same thing: “it’s not about politics. it’s that everything costs too much.”
why this isn’t temporary
part of what makes this moment different: these are not short-term shocks. this is a structural problem built over years.
the u.s. has a severe housing shortage. utilities are tied to energy markets that haven’t stabilized. child-care supply is shrinking. health-care costs escalate annually, immune to market cooling. wage gains can’t catch all of that at once.
inflation may have slowed, but prices didn’t go back.
how it’s reshaping the country
the affordability crisis is now influencing:
• where people live
• whether they have children
• which jobs they take
• how they vote
• what they cut first (usually food or care, never housing)
• and ultimately, their sense of stability
it’s also creating something we haven’t seen in decades: a shared economic grievance across class, geography, and party lines.
this isn’t a “low-income” story anymore. it’s a “middle america feels squeezed” story.
the psychology of 2025
there’s a particular mood shaping america this year — a low-level hum of exhaustion, caution, and quiet recalibration. most people aren’t panicking; they’re just tired of feeling like stability is slipping slightly out of reach.
the affordability crisis sits at the center of that feeling.
it’s not just that prices are high — it’s that people no longer feel in control of their lives in the way they once did. the emotional cost is subtle but heavy:
• plans feel harder to make,
• risks feel harder to take,
• and the future feels harder to trust.
psychologists call this “resource uncertainty” — the sense that you may have enough for today, but maybe not for next month. it’s not scarcity, exactly. it’s the anticipation of scarcity. and it changes how people behave.
it makes them more risk-averse, more protective of routines, more skeptical of institutions, and more attuned to anything that threatens their sense of stability.
and that’s the undercurrent of 2025.
how it’s showing up culturally
you see it in small ways everywhere:
• the shift back to cooking at home
• the rise of “fix it, don’t replace it” culture
• the quiet return of modest weddings
• the boom in second jobs and small side businesses
• the way people talk about money openly for the first time in years
there’s a national desire to feel grounded again — to have something solid underfoot. even trends that seem aesthetic (quiet luxury, minimalism, wellness routines) feel, at their core, like people trying to regain a sense of steadiness.
why this moment feels different
in previous periods of economic strain, the crisis was acute — layoffs, recessions, sharp shocks. in 2025, the stress is chronic. slower. more ambient.
and chronic stress shapes psychology differently. it doesn’t create urgency — it creates weariness.
that’s why “affordability” is hitting such a deep cultural nerve: because it isn’t just about money. it’s about control, autonomy, and the ability to imagine a future with any confidence.
it’s about whether life feels predictable enough to plan.
the quiet truth beneath this week’s headlines
people aren’t angry — they’re worn down.
not hopeless — just stretched.
they’re not asking for luxury; they’re asking for margin.
and that, more than anything else, is the defining mood of 2025: a country trying to rebuild some breathing room.
