Ideas are powerful. They attract or repel, entreat or exhort, and they almost invariably motivate our actions. They don’t just sit on the shelf of our mind, turned over, used and returned like a container of salt. Ideas become the fabric of entire belief systems, either positively or negatively. We have beliefs about what actions are right or wrong, and these beliefs are based on ideas we’ve considered by choice or confrontation. Do you have a belief about the morality of same-sex marriage or transgender bathrooms? It’s likely based on ideas you have about human rights, justice, equality, or religion. Do you have a belief about whether or not lying is acceptable? It’s likely based on ideas about what a lie is, whether or not hurting people’s feelings matters, and so forth. Do you have a belief about the value of government? It’s likely based on ideas presented over thousands of years from thinkers like Plato, Aristotle, Hobbes, Locke, Rousseau, Dewey, Foucault, Rawls, and many more. Whatever your belief, there is a network of ideas that support it.

That network can become incredibly complex to the point where it’s not at all clear to us how we arrived at the beliefs we have. Few understand the raw power of ideas better than those who spend their lives theorizing about them, so when a film focuses on a thinker’s explanation of one such complexity — our current disillusionment with the American Dream — it is well worth an hour or so of our time to listen to what that film has to say. This is just what Requiem for the American Dream (2015) does.

Requiem is a film by Peter Hutchison, Kelly Nyks, and Jared P. Scott. It begins with a close-up of Noam Chomksy against a dark background. At age 87, Chomsky is one of the most well-known and influential thinkers today. The linguist, philosopher, and political theorist sat down for a series of interviews over the course of four years. Requiem for the American Dream is the result of assembling the lines of reasoning Chomsky presented during that period. With a running time of just over an hour, the film deftly and economically presents a compelling case for the view that people are losing faith in the idea of the American Dream, the dream that you can improve your situation in life: get a better job, buy a house, send your kids to college, earn a secure retirement. In other words, one of the most powerful ideas in the pantheon that drives what the United States stands for — what it means to have a good life, what it means be a successful person, what it means to leave the next generation better off than yours — is encapsulated by the concept of the American Dream.

Chomsky begins to suss out what we mean by this idea by taking us back to the Great Depression, which, it is worth noting, he is old enough to remember. Despite being the worst economic disaster in U.S. history, he tells us, the depression did not destroy people’s hopes. Even more surprising is that, although it ruined many people’s material security, “there was an expectation [during the Great Depression] that things were going to get better. There was a real sense of hopefulness. There isn’t today.” Why? In a word, inequality. Americans do not, and have not had, an equal shot at the American Dream. This situation is the result of a long history, Chomsky argues, of manipulating democracy to the point where only a small fraction of the U.S. population controls all the wealth. “Literally, the top one-tenth of one percent are just super-wealthy.” The situation is not only inherently unjust, but, Chomsky points out, “inequality has highly negative consequences on the society as a whole, because the very fact of inequality has a corrosive, harmful effect on democracy.”

The next question is, how did this happen? There have been similar periods before, but nothing quite like what we have seen in the first decade or so of the 21st century. The collapse of financial markets in 2007 was just one symptom of a much larger and more insidiously systematic degradation of values over a long period of time. According to Chomsky, the concept and practice of democracy has long been at odds with the “privileged and powerful sectors” of the country. That’s because “democracy puts power into the hands of the general population and takes it away from them.” Chomsky describes 10 principles of concentration of wealth and power that aim at protecting the privileged and powerful and, in so doing, destroy democracy as we know it — and the American Dream.

It’s not surprising that money attracts power. The more money you have, the more power you have. Now consider political power — the power to get the sort of legislation you want passed, or block potential laws that don’t suit your interests — the power that, in a democracy, is supposed to reflect the will of the people. Combined with the increasing cost of maintaining a political career — campaigning isn’t cheap — and you have a recipe that puts the people with the money to pay for campaigns in a position of power over those who have the power to make law. Who, then, has the money? In Adam Smith’s day, the “masters of mankind” were the merchants and manufacturers. Today, it’s financial institutions and international corporations, and it is in their interest to preserve their wealth and power. Consequently, according to Chomsky, the first principle of concentrating wealth and power is to reduce democracy.

Chomsky considered two thinkers’ views on democracy in relation to the idea of protecting wealth and power against the potentiality of losing it to the poor. Aristotle—and later James Madison—was concerned with protecting the existing property owners’ interests against those who would, in a democratic society where everyone has a vote, want to take away that property. Aristotle’s solution was to reduce inequality so that no one would want to take others’ property. Madison’s solution, however, was to reduce democracy. Chomsky’s view is that there has long been a tension in the United States between decreasing democracy vs. decreasing inequality. An example of a period of increasing democracy was the 1960s. People who had long been organizing to demand their rights and an increased role in decision-making were beginning to see the results of their efforts. Whether it was the Civil Rights movement, the women’s movement, or concerns about the environment, people were demanding their share of the American Dream. According to Chomsky, the backlash was enormous — and we are now seeing its effects.

Business interests were worried. Those taking advantage of the democratic freedom and responsibility to participate in shaping society had to be subdued. In large part, this was accomplished, Chomsky argues, by a concerted effort in the 1970s “to shift the economy in two crucial respects. One, to increase the role of financial institutions: banks, investment firms, and so on…insurance companies. By 2007, right before the latest crash, they had literally 40% of corporate profits, far beyond anything in the past.” Whereas previously the U.S. economy was largely production-based — and this, too, was the result of a previous shift from an agrarian economy — now businesses began focusing on “moving money around in complicated ways,” rather than, or in addition to, producing products. Of course, this meant that the function of the financial institutions changed. Whereas they had historically invested unused assets in support of production — say loaning money for a merchant to renovate his store — financial institutions began to take investment risks previously precluded by laws that separated commercial from investment banking. So, money that would be on hand for production re-investment, lines of credit, and so forth was used for speculation.

Meanwhile, Chomsky claims, “The trade system was reconstructed with a very explicit design of putting working people in completion with on another all over the world.” The result was that workers, who couldn’t freely move to another state, let alone another country to follow jobs, became increasingly poor — and increasingly insecure. “Keep workers insecure,” Chomsky asserts, “they’re going to be under control. They are not going to ask for, say, decent wages or decent working conditions or the opportunity of free association.” Money, on the other hand, moves easily; financial institutions became increasingly rich.

Two further ideas follow on the heels of 1) reducing democracy to prime the populace for a 2) reshaping of ideology, which then opens the door to 3) redesigning the economy: 4) shift the burden from the wealthy to the poor, who are now the “precariat” — the combination of the precarious proletariat—and 5) attack solidarity.

Taxes on corporations and the wealthy were significantly higher in the 1950s and 1960s than they are now. By redesigning the tax system, Chomsky says, “the burden of sustaining the society [fell] onto the rest of the population.” Moreover, an insecure worker who is already less likely to make trouble for fear of losing the little she already has is susceptible to what Chomsky calls an attack on solidarity. If you are committed to the view that you should be self-interested and not care about what happens to others, then you do not have “fellow feeling,” the sympathy Adam Smith describes in his Wealth of Nations (1776). It’s worth bringing Smith into the conversation, since his work is often considered the origin story for capitalism — and just as often, the moral theory that guides his economic theory is overlooked. If you are rich, if your goal is to preserve and increase both your own wealth and the wealth of your company, then you won’t be committed to, say, preserving Social Security for a widow who has no other source of income on which to survive. You won’t be interested in funding public education — your kids go to private school, after all, or maybe you don’t have kids. A quick survey of investment in public educational institutions — kindergarten through higher education — reveals the sort of attack on solidarity Chomsky diagnoses.

Deregulation becomes another tool to concentrate wealth and power. The push to privatize, whether it’s eliminating Social Security, public education, or some other social good, includes deregulation. Short of that, “run the regulators.” When bank lobbyists write financial regulations, they’re running the show; they’ve got the power to generate policy that’s in their own interests. After they’ve given themselves free reign to do what they want—and they create the conditions that resulted in the financial sector collapse of 2007-2008—they expect the government to step in and save them. “Meanwhile,” Chomsky decries, “for the poor, let market principles prevail…One set of rules for the rich. Opposite set of rules for the poor.” The rich are “too big to fail.” The poor are not.

In order not to lose the power to, for example, a taxpayer funded bailout, the rich and powerful need to ensure their interests are protected through the election process. This means investing money into candidates’ campaigns. A signal legal moment for the right of corporations to donate money to campaigns came in 2009, with the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision in Citizens United vs. Federal Election Commission. The Court held that “Political spending is a form of protected speech under the First Amendment, and the government may not keep corporations or unions from spending money to support or denounce individual candidates in elections. While corporations or unions may not give money directly to campaigns, they may seek to persuade the voting public through other means, including ads, especially where these ads were not broadcast.”

The two-part crux of the matter is that corporations are legally treated as persons and that money is a form of speech. Presumably, then, corporations have the same rights, protections, and responsibilities as we do. Of course, the reality is that, as we’ve already seen, the matter of responsibility becomes a rather tricky proposition. At the same time that corporations and the individuals who run them are concentrating their wealth and power, unions, Chomskey says, are systematically dismantled. That’s because, as a democratizing force, they are dangerous to the powerful.

The social and political changes outlined above make possible the manufacture of consent. In other words, controlling people in an effort to reduce democracy—to make people spectators instead of participants—is best achieved not by brute force, but by influencing attitudes and beliefs. By fabricating consumers, Chomsky argues, the ideal in life becomes buying (not thinking, not reading, not engaging in meaningful discourse): “And you spend your time and effort gaining those things, which you don’t need, and you don’t want, and maybe you’ll throw them away…but that’s the measure of a decent life.” Indeed, the more uninformed we are, the easier we are to control. And once we are controllable, the ultimate goal is achieved: marginalization of the population.

A properly functioning democracy is one in which people are equipped to participate, and do participate, in the institutional processes that guide and structure our lives. Absent these conditions—or especially in the face of those who want to subvert them— democracy fails.

Whether or not one agrees with Chomsky’s views, it’s hard to watch the film and not come away having been welcomed into an intimate conversation about the nature and history of democracy in the United States, its impact on the current political and economic situation. The film will also undoubtedly challenge the viewer to carefully develop his or her own view on the subject.

Part of the reason we’re invited into the conversation is the way the film is shot; it feels like we are in the room with Chomsky. In addition, Chomsky’s soft-spoken manner, along with his uncanny ability to make erudition accessible, makes it feel like he is speaking directly to us. These are incredibly important features of the presentation. As anyone who has watched a badly produced and badly acted film knows, the vividness of an idea can be successful or unsuccessful based on how it is presented.

Another reason the film successfully appeals to a diverse audience is that, although Chomsky talks about abstract, difficult to understand ideas, he continually provides a tangible contemporary or historical context that aids the viewer in making sense of what he says. Additionally, the film is organized around 10 principles that orient the viewer to Chomsky’s perspective and line of thinking. These principles also work together to form a coherent whole. Whatever you think about the current situation or Chomsky’s interpretation of it in terms of intellectual, social, political, economic, and legal history, there is no doubt that Requiem for the American Dream is both timely and timeless. It reminds us there is always much to consider.

There are many ways we can think about our current situation. Chomsky’s is but one way. Even if you don’t think he’s right about how we got to where we are now, or even about how to think of where we are now, it’s still true that when we contemplate the American Dream, we are contemplating powerful ideas that will shape our future.