Don’t Buy It

Do you ever wonder why words like “the economy is recovering” or “the markets are nervous” sound so natural, even though economies aren’t alive and markets don’t have feelings? In Don't Buy It, communication strategist Anat Shenker-Osorio argues that language doesn’t simply describe our economic beliefs—it creates them. We don’t just talk about the economy; we talk it into being. When we describe it as a living being, a natural force, or a god, we unconsciously surrender our sense of control and accept inequality as inevitable.

Shenker-Osorio contends that progressives have lost the economic argument not because their ideas are wrong, but because their words are. Conservatives have weaponized language—framing the economy as self-reliant and moral, rewarding the virtuous and punishing the lazy—while progressives have used metaphors that reinforce precisely those assumptions. The result? Even those who fight for fairness end up talking like free-marketeers.

Why Metaphors Matter

According to Shenker-Osorio, our brains depend on metaphor to understand complex, abstract systems like “the economy.” We compare it to tangible things—a body that can be sick or recovering, a storm that we must weather, or a machine that needs fine-tuning. These metaphors aren’t neutral. They make invisible assumptions about what the economy is and what to do about it. If it’s a body, we shouldn’t interfere too much; if it’s a machine, we can adjust the gears.

She draws on the research of linguists George Lakoff and Mark Johnson (authors of Metaphors We Live By) to show that metaphors prime political beliefs more powerfully than facts. When Stanford psychologists replaced the phrase “crime is a beast” with “crime is a virus,” respondents shifted from punitive to preventive attitudes—without realizing they had been influenced. Likewise, talk of an “ailing economy” trains audiences to believe it will self-heal, not to call for intervention.

The Language Trap Progressives Fall Into

Progressives make three major mistakes in their storytelling: they assume facts are persuasive, they use the same metaphors as conservatives, and they mix metaphors so wildly that they appear incoherent. Shenker-Osorio analyzes political speeches, media coverage, and nonprofit campaigns (“Fight Crime, Invest in Kids” being a favorite example of mixed messaging) to show how left-leaning communicators unintentionally echo right-wing frames.

Calling the economy “sick,” “weak,” or “stormy” tells people that fluctuations are natural and regulation is futile. Using phrases like “tax relief” or “government spending” validates the conservative worldview that taxes are a burden and spending is wasteful. Even President Obama’s speeches are critiqued for oscillating between casting the economy as a car to drive and a patient to heal—two incompatible metaphors that confuse audiences about the government’s role.

Reclaiming the Economic Story

What’s the alternative? Shenker-Osorio urges progressives to redefine both what the economy is and why it exists. The economy isn’t a supernatural being or an autonomous system—it’s a human-made construction whose purpose is to support people and the planet. She proposes two interlocking metaphors to drive this message:

• The economy as a vehicle: It’s something people design and operate. It needs a driver (government), rules of the road (regulations), and maintenance (public investment).
• The economy as a journey facilitator: Its purpose is to move everyone forward in life, not serve itself. Progress is measured by shared well-being, not just growth or GDP.

These metaphors foreground agency, interconnectedness, and direction—qualities that remind citizens that they, not abstract markets, shape economic outcomes. They also open space for positive values like fairness, sustainability, and solidarity.

Why This Matters Now

The book positions itself after the Great Recession of 2008, when, despite widespread anger at Wall Street, conservatives managed to blame government rather than deregulation. Shenker-Osorio argues that the Left missed its opportunity to rewrite the national narrative because it lacked a coherent story about how the economy failed and how to fix it. While right-wing think tanks like Heritage and Cato spoke in moral and natural terms (“the economy needs freedom,” “markets heal themselves”), progressives led with data and policies divorced from compelling moral language.

Ultimately, Don’t Buy It is a call to linguistic consciousness and political courage. To change the economy, Shenker-Osorio insists, we must first change the story we tell about it. The economy should no longer be our master—it should be our vehicle. And we, not the markets, belong in the driver’s seat.

Shenker-Osorio argues that conservatives have mastered narrative simplicity. They possess a consistent story about what the economy is: a natural, moral, self-regulating system that rewards discipline and punishes dependency. This worldview ties together moral philosophy, economic theory, and cultural identity so neatly that even their opponents often end up reinforcing it.

The Economy as Nature

For conservatives, the economy behaves like nature—an ecosystem that finds equilibrium if left undisturbed. Interference is unnatural and dangerous, like trying to stop the tide. Hence familiar phrases such as “market forces,” “fiscal climate,” or “economic storm.” When the economy is treated as weather, recession is just rain, not human error; it will eventually clear up on its own. This metaphor underwrites arguments against regulation, taxation, and intervention.

Commentators like Nicole Gelinas and the Heritage Foundation regularly refer to the economy as “unhealthy” or in “recovery.” Others go further—David Mason once described Wall Street’s collapse as a “heart attack.” As Shenker-Osorio points out, if the economy is a body, then government is an intrusive surgeon who should “first, do no harm.” Regulation becomes a scalpel, not a steering wheel.

The Economy as Moral Arbiter

Beyond nature, conservatives wield what she calls the “moral enforcer” metaphor. According to this story, the economy rewards virtue (hard work, thrift, marriage) and punishes vice (laziness, risk-taking, dependency). Libertarians like Alan Reynolds condemn social spending because it “discourages both sides from earning more.” Lawmakers even legislate morality through economics—drug-testing welfare applicants, limiting unemployment benefits—turning economic hardship into moral failure.

This moral framing shifts focus from systems to individuals. By portraying the poor as imprudent or immoral and the rich as disciplined, conservatives naturalize inequality. The prosperity gospel reinforces it: wealth is evidence of divine favor. To challenge inequality, you’re not just questioning policy—you’re defying God’s order. That psychological alliance between economics and morality explains why austerity, even when ineffective, feels righteous to many voters.

Language as a Weapon

Conservative strategist Frank Luntz epitomizes this mastery of rhetoric. He renamed the inheritance tax the “death tax” and pollution deregulation the “Clear Skies Initiative.” These linguistic pivots mutated unpopular policies into common sense. As Shenker-Osorio notes, conservatives pay as much attention to what people hear as to what they say. Meanwhile, progressives cling to data and assume facts will speak for themselves. The result is an unequal contest between story and statistics.

The conservative narrative works because it aligns what the economy is (natural), how it works (self-correcting), and what it means (moral). Until progressives can match that coherence, they’ll remain the opposition in their own story.

When we talk about the economy, we rely on metaphors—simplifying images that shape policy thinking. Shenker-Osorio identifies several dominant metaphors, some helpful, most harmful. Understanding them is the first step in rewriting our collective economic imagination.

The Economy as a Body

This is one of the oldest and most destructive frames. The “sick economy” suggests that markets have internal organs that will heal on their own. Politicians speak of “stimulus” or “recovery” as if they’re doctors waiting out an illness. The implication is that government treatment should be minimal—too much intervention risks making the patient “worse.”

The Economy as Weather

When newscasters talk about “economic storms” or “financial tides,” they signal that recessions are natural disasters beyond human control. Paul Krugman himself, despite his progressive stance, has written that the world was “awash in cheap money”—unwittingly echoing the conservative “money flows” metaphor that implies liquidity has its own will.

The Economy as a Moral Enforcer

Here the economy becomes judge and jury, proctoring moral exams. Hard work equals virtue; dependence equals sin. Unemployment is punishment, not policy failure. This metaphor justifies cruelty by moralizing it, as evident in lawmakers proposing drug testing for welfare recipients despite empirical failures. Economic inequality becomes not only fair but necessary—a social eugenics for virtue.

Better Metaphors for Progress

Shenker-Osorio offers alternatives that align with progressive values:

• The economy as a vehicle: It requires a skilled driver (government) and rules of the road to prevent crashes. Government’s job is ongoing, not emergency repair.
• The economy as a constructed object: Something we build and rebuild. Good design ensures stability; poor design demands renovation. This highlights human agency and accountability.
• The economy as a crop: It grows through care, time, and planning—not neglect. Harvest requires cultivation and stewardship, reminding us that government must tend the economic soil.

Each metaphor signals that the economy depends on human design, shared effort, and maintenance—ideas central to democratic intervention. The goal isn’t abstract growth but collective flourishing.

In short, Shenker-Osorio’s metaphor analysis is both diagnosis and prescription: to fix our politics, we must fix our words. If we don’t, someone else will keep selling the same broken story—and we’ll keep buying it.

Economic inequality, Shenker-Osorio insists, isn’t a natural gap—it’s a man-made wall. Yet, progressives often describe it with language that suggests inevitability. Phrases like the “wealth gap” or “income divide” paint a static picture, ignoring who dug the chasm and why. She challenges readers to reject metaphors that hide human agency and instead adopt those that reveal deliberate obstruction.

From Gap to Barrier

When people hear “gap,” they think of a space between two independent sides—rich and poor—without cause-and-effect. That language leads your brain to assume both groups simply exist apart. But inequality is engineered. Shenker-Osorio suggests thinking of it as a barrier: a wall erected to keep certain groups out of opportunity. Barriers convey movement blocked, potential thwarted, and a process we can reverse.

She points out that the poor aren’t stuck because they “failed to climb the ladder.” The ladder itself was pulled up. The “barrier” metaphor restores blame to those who set the rules—the elites, policymakers, and corporations who construct structural obstacles to wealth and education.

Why Vertical Thinking is Dangerous

Talking about “top” and “bottom” implies hierarchy, even morality. We naturally equate “low” with bad—think of expressions like “down and out.” So when we call someone part of the “bottom class,” we imply failure. Conservatives exploit this instinct with narratives that glorify the “best people” at the top and shame those below. Ayn Rand’s philosophy of “producers” and “moochers” is the moral core of this architecture.

A Shared Journey, Not Separate Worlds

Inequality is better explained through the life-as-journey metaphor. Everyone starts somewhere, faces obstacles, and aspires to move forward. When barriers block progress—for example, systemic racism in hiring or education—society stalls. Using the barrier metaphor transforms inequality from a lament about distance into a call to clear the road. It converts pity into agency.

Ultimately, Shenker-Osorio’s linguistic overhaul reframes inequality as something humanity can fix. If we built the walls, we can dismantle them. Justice begins not with compassion but with construction work—tearing down barriers we once mistook for gravity.

One of Shenker-Osorio’s most practical lessons comes from grammar itself: actions require actors. In economic language, progressives often default to the passive voice—“jobs were lost,” “wages declined,” or “mistakes were made.” But who did these things? Without subjects, audiences assume they’re acts of nature, not choices by people in power.

Put People in the Sentence

When economic harm occurs, name the doers: “CEOs cut jobs,” “banks foreclosed on families.” This small shift restores accountability. It also turns politics from fate to agency. Shenker-Osorio illustrates this with an example from Obama’s speeches—phrases like “paychecks weren’t keeping up” hide the truth that companies chose to pay workers less while executives pocketed profits. Passive phrasing breeds resignation.

Speak to Your Audience, Not Around Them

The most persuasive communicators use direct address—the word “you.” Conservatives mastered this habit long ago. Ronald Reagan’s “A Time for Choosing” speech used “you and I” ten times, drawing listeners into a shared story. Progressives, conversely, speak in abstractions (“workers,” “consumers,” “the middle class”) that leave individuals outside the frame. Shenker-Osorio urges advocates to make the audience participants, not spectators, in their own economy.

Identity Beats Behavior

She summarizes a Stanford study where simply asking people if they would “be a voter” increased turnout dramatically compared to asking if they would “vote.” Identity statements tap pride and belonging; behavior statements ask effort. Similarly, describing someone as “a taxpayer” invests them in collective outcomes, while telling them “you pay taxes” feels transactional. Words create worlds—and roles within them.

Framing isn’t spin; it’s architecture. The way you build a sentence determines the reality people perceive. As George Orwell warned, political language can make lies sound truthful; Shenker-Osorio shows it can also make truth sound powerless. To reclaim our politics, she insists, we must choose words that empower rather than excuse.

In her closing chapters, Shenker-Osorio calls for what she terms the audacity of audacity—the courage to speak from our values instead of echoing opponents’ frames. Progressives often poll-test messages to find what people already agree with rather than leading them toward new understanding. Conservatives, by contrast, plant their flag far out and shift the center toward them. She argues that meaningful change demands not moderation but moral clarity.

Say What You Mean

Slogans like “government isn’t the problem” backfire because they repeat opponents’ words. The brain skips “not” and retains “government problem.” The right’s linguistic provocateurs understand this; they bait progressives into reiterating their frames. Shenker-Osorio notes how activists’ defensive language in the abortion debate—framing rights as “choice” or “privacy”—made it sound libertarian rather than moral, undermining solidarity and public funding. The result: many “rights” exist on paper but remain inaccessible in practice.

Lead, Don’t Concede

Quoting communication expert John Neffinger, she retells a story about Bernie Sanders telling Bill Clinton that he should have been “protesting him in effigy” during the health care debate—so Clinton’s plan would appear centrist by comparison. The lesson: progress requires flankers, not faint whispers. Instead of chasing public opinion, progressives should move it. As conservative think tanks have shown, repetition over time transforms fringe ideas into conventional wisdom.

Redefining the Sacred

For Shenker-Osorio, changing talk about the economy isn’t cosmetic—it’s moral work. Economics has replaced religion as our faith system, complete with prophets, doctrines, and sacrifices. To restore balance, we must tell a counter-story: the economy serves humanity, not the other way around. She urges communicators to stop defending their decency and start declaring it—the way free-marketeers proclaim greed as good. Compassion, fairness, and stewardship should sound as confident as “growth” or “profit.”

By the end of Don’t Buy It, the message is unmistakable: the fight for a just economy begins not in Congress or Wall Street but in our mouths. Every metaphor carries a worldview. It’s time to choose ours deliberately—and audaciously.