Wednesday, March 26, 2014

A Moral Medusa

​For Better or for worse, all members of the movement - if not all members of Western society - grow up with at least some awareness of the shortcomings of capitalism. The most often discussed critique is that it creates large gaps between rich and poor, which in the end creates extreme poverty both in the midst of massive economic growth (China, Israel, Brazil) and in the midst of unparalleled wealth (the United States). Moreover, the poverty is largely self-perpetuating: the overwhelming majority of those who start out in poverty will always remain in poverty, though a few escape to testify to the fairness and flexibility of the system. The existence of poverty, however, remains inflexible.

​The next most accepted critique is environmental: we relentlessly pursue economic growth, which means that each person has more and more stuff. Economic growth means using more and more resources. We can’t build more cars without more steel, and we can’t manufacture more plastics without more oil. But the earth’s resources (metal, oil, water, etc.) are limited, so an economy can’t grow towards infinity. Our current system is thus unsustainable. And that is without even acknowledging the risks to the ecosystem posed by global warming, the result of our fossil fuel addiction.

​Then there are the nuanced critiques, which involve analyzing our lives, our culture, our values. Critics of the system point out that the world is moving toward an ultra-competitive school system based on testing and career placement, and that any notion of raising thoughtful, moral citizens is at best a secondary consideration. The ultimate conclusion of this is Singapore, a highly efficient society which has perhaps the highest math and science scores of any country in the world and a rapidly growing economy. Coincidentally, Singapore has no political freedom and no elections, and produces no great works of art, literature, or music (though it does produce great engineers and businessmen). There is also a growing awareness of our consumerist tendencies, that we are all obsessed with things and products and labels to the point of extreme cultural shallowness. We cringe when we think of the people who can’t afford proper food or healthcare or education for their family, but will spend their savings for a new iPhone (or just steal one). Yet we’re all still hopelessly in love with that same iPhone.

​And as the best thinkers among us have pointed out, this obsession with owning things and making money and using brand-names to improve our image deeply affects our relationships with one another. We are so use to relating to products that we turn people and relationships into items: human beings, after all, can also be treated like mere tools for our own pursuit of happiness. In pre-modern society, human beings had strong communities, each one had a strong code of ethics and responsibility that is placed on each of its members. But today, it is perfectly acceptable - perhaps encouraged - to care about no one besides yourself, or at least no one besides your family. You certainly have no great moral or financial responsibility to anyone else, and society has no right to “impose” some sort of moral codes on your behavior.

​What is the point of all this? As members of the movement, we often see one or two of these particular effects quite strikingly: whether it’s the crippling conditions of the poor, or the alienation of wealthy suburbanites, or the vacuous consumerist culture of the twenty-first century, or the impending environmental crisis. But rarely do we see the whole picture. Rarely do we see that all of these are merely the symptoms of a larger problem.

​According to Investopedia.com, capitalism is “an economic system based on a free market, open competition, profit motive, and private ownership of the means of production.” According to the capitalists themselves, the essence of capitalism is profit, competition, private ownership. In other words: every man is for himself, and life is a game of getting as much stuff as possible.

​How do you justify what is explicit in this definition, that it is better for human beings to compete rather than to cooperate? And how do you justify what is implicit in this definition, that neither the government nor individuals have a responsibility to help anyone else out? The answer was invented by Adam Smith, the father of capitalism. In his masterpiece, The Wealth of Nations, He declared that for each man, “[b]y pursuing his own interest he frequently promotes that of the society more effectually than when he really intends to promote it.” In other words: by following your own self-interest you’ll do more to help others than if you actually care about promoting their interests. Thus capitalism alleviates us of the burden of caring about others and validates our every selfish inclination.

​The result is the world you see today: alienated and lacking intimacy at the top, exploited and dehumanized at the bottom, obsessively consumerist at every level. This world has also created lots of wealth and many technological wonders; it’s undeniable. Medicine has improved, Google works very well, we all have nifty gadgets in our pockets. So we must ask: is it all worth it?

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