Capitalism is fundamentally wrong

As our political system spirals toward the centre-right, with a post-modern, ideology-free, managerial attitude to economics, the debate about what kind of economy we might want fades away. Such debate seems pointless in a globalised economy where change is glacier-slow and directed by the heads of international banking.

The debate itself was dominated by questions of how best to bend the capitalist economy to serve the needs of most. In practice, this once meant a system of checks and balances: auditing, policing, the judiciary and journalism holding business to account for its treatment of employees, resources, customers, investors and the community, while government levied taxes to redress any remaining imbalance. Now corporations receive subsidies to simply do what they would do anyway, while society’s poorest are threatened with withdrawal of breadline payments to get them into any menial job; it looks like that debate has been lost.

But was the point being missed anyway? Like monarchy or desiccated coconut, there is something fundamentally wrong with capitalism. The clue is in the name.

When asked what values your society holds, what do you say? Respect? Freedom? Opportunity? Care of the vulnerable? On the other hand, how do we run our society? We have, for hundreds of years, implemented a system where the reward is for accrual of capital. “Greed is good” was not invented in the 1980s--it has been the basis of Western business since Roman times (at least) and our way of life since the 1700s.

Capital and money are not necessarily the same thing. Money is the method of transaction--the way we distanced ourselves from barter and made trade more flexible as a result. Capital is that subset of money used for investment--the stockpile.

Money itself is a non-linear entity. Having £100 is more than 10 times more worthwhile than having £10. Life is cheaper when you are rich. This can be mitigated by progressive taxation and subsidy. But capital is much worse than money. And capitalism is the parasite that draws wealth from society.

It does so in the name of efficiency.

Efficiency is meant to be the strength of market-driven capitalism. State- or society-run institutions have no incentive, they say, to improve their performance and get the best out of resources. Private business, answering to its shareholders, has to maintain profitability. But how it does so revolves around those resources. Within legislative limits (and often outwith them) businesses will usually pay as little to the majority of their employees and will take from the environment without renewal. Consumer pressure has little effect other than to curb the worst excesses, and over consumption is a more fundamental problem than consumption of the wrong thing.

Investors want a return on their investment, usually expressed as a percentage annual increase in “value”. Investors will withdraw their funds if the percentage drops and, conversely, the encouragement is to make the percentage grow. Of course, growth cannot increase indefinitely, but it doesn’t stop them trying. And until the bubble bursts, the company gets bought, or settles into bloated maturity, every possible strategy will be tried to squeeze more out.

Which all begs the tricky question: what’s the alternative?

It’s easier to criticise than provide solutions, I admit, but there a couple principles that should be followed in establishing an alternative economy. First, a positive value (or values) has to replace the accrual of wealth at the core. Second, the true cost of resources has to be embedded in the system. And in the meantime, the non-linearity of money has to be recognised and compensated for with personal and corporate progressive taxation.

Jedis are the ultimate Gandhists

I’m serious. You wouldn’t expect any less, based on previous posts, but you might also need some convincing on this assertion.

Anyone with a mild obsession with the Star Wars universe knows that to be a Jedi Knight, one has to be an ascetic, putting your self last in pursuit of communion with the Force. The ultimate achievement—becoming a Jedi Mahatma, reaching the Jedi Nirvana—is to be able to cheat death and become a part of the Force itself.

So, it’s easy to compare Jedi ways with Hinduism and Buddhism, but Gandhi was a Jain and preached non-violence. These knights go into battle and carry swords. But look closer at what Gandhi taught.

Gandhi saw violence as a term that encompassed more than physical attack. Violence is all that is negative and aggressive. Violence includes the eating of meat or the destruction of the environment. Gandhi drew a parallel between the search for personal enlightenment and the way people live their lives—there is a balance to be found, treading lightly on the land and taking no more than you need.

Gandhi said: “I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary; the evil it does is permanent.”

Conversely, any action that doesn’t fulfil these criteria is probably not violence. Which brings us back to the Jedi. Jedi are taught not to attack, only to defend, and to do so in a way that simply returns the anger and violence of the attacker. This is not simply a strategy as in some martial arts, but fundamental to the use of the Force. To do otherwise would be to exploit the Dark Side of the Force, which in turn would consume the user.

Take a hypothetical example: a Jedi is fired upon by an Imperial stormtrooper. Without time for debate, the Jedi avoids being hit, fires up his lightsabre and deflects the next shot to kill the soldier. As an act of bravery and warcraft, it would be admirable, but that is not what it is to a Jedi. There is no fear, no aggression and no malice. The Jedi acts as a conduit to the Force, taking no pleasure in undoing the violent actions of the stormtrooper.

In other words, to be a Jedi Knight is to achieve a balance that no ordinary human could, both because it is simply beyond our abilities and because we do not have access to the Force. So the Jedi Knight is the ultimate Gandhist, but only in the realm of fantasy.

Without the ability to enter battle without animosity, it is better not to enter the battle.

Taking control

Getting elected is no mystery. Experience shows just how many leaflets, letters, doors knocked upon, pounds and years spent it takes to win a council seat. With a creditable manifesto and enough time and money, winning a city council majority is and has been done by parties other than the current duopoly—in several countries too.

Things could be so much better, though. It makes sense not to spook the electorate when you are few and have limited access to the media, but fighting for control of a council presents the opportunity to reveal the long-term goals, the real differences between yourselves and the orthodoxy—your ideology.

Having an ideology is a revolutionary thing in itself in this allegedly post-modern world. What’s more, lofty global ambitions linked to personal goals that do not extend beyond the local community are an apparent contradiction that you can turn into a winning combination.

An ambitious mainstream politician in local politics will see it as a step towards the national level. His (or her) personal ambitions can be justified by linking them to his ambitions for his own political views, his local community and his country. But in reality, greater ambition coupled with greater ability will see the best and most driven politicians abandoning their roots. National-level governments do what they perceive is best for the nation and have little incentive to empower local communities, as Nixon astutely observed.

So, the average local politician is second rate because there is little worth bothering with at local level.

Turn that around. If we assume that we will most effectively change nation and globe by our example rather than domination, the ultimate ambition is to make your own community the epitome of fairness and ecological balance.

When communities start to turn against the dictatorship of central government, the best politicians will want to play a part in the re-invigorated local. And with a growing number of communities taking control of their own affairs, the pool of (genuine) best practice and experience will grow, making the localisation programme ever easier.

Take the power back

Richard Nixon, when asked why he hadn’t done much to strengthen small government (in fact he did the opposite), said: “Sure I didn’t. I’m not a knucklehead. People back home holler that they want less government. Give it to ‘em and except in the South they’ll go out and vote for the Democrats.” (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/magazine/4368095.stm)

Nixon may have been a power-mad fascist, but he wasn’t stupid.

Library shelves have been filled with books about the nature of power and how power interacts with human nature, but it is exceptional to find a political figure or movement that has taken power and fulfilled its promise to give it away. [Portugal’s Carnation Revolution (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carnation_Revolution) is possibly the most remarkable exception.] And the process of national government is a constant reminder of this power dynamic, as stated so pithily by Nixon.

Devolution—power redistribution as a principle and in action—is therefore unlikely to be espoused or happen in any meaningful way through a national administration. The parameters for polling public opinion and the scope of localised democracy will always be defined in a way that undermines the ideals and goals of the project. Devolution is not a principle or a right espoused in the UN Charter, arguably because national sovereignty is the first principle of the Charter, but presumably because very few national governments would concede any validity to their regionalist movements.

So, if you believe in people’s right to reclaim their sovereignty, how do they overcome the inherent opposition of central government?

Let’s assume there is no barrier to the dissemination of your ideas (although centralised media tend to reflect the mindset of the centralised governing elite) and look at what local political activists might achieve. Further, let’s assume that there is a majority of like-minded local representatives that therefore hold the local council.

The first step would be to identify the issues that are impossible to solve within the constraints set by central government. If you believe there is a need for devolution, you must also be able to identify symptoms of the failure of centralised government. One example might be the provision of facilities for the homeless, which under budgetary and legislative restrictions, the local council could not provide a service that allowed either a dignified existence or a realistic opportunity to achieve self-sufficiency.

The second step would be to confront the government with a plan to address the problem by redistributing and/or marginally increasing local taxation. If government conceded, fine, but it is quite likely that the plan would be recognised as a “thin end of the wedge” and be rejected.

The third, most difficult but crucial step would be to implement the plan anyway, and to reject all fines imposed as a result. This confrontation, and the resulting support from local inhabitants and likeminded people around the country, is what would make the break towards devolution work. The government rules by the consensus of more than just the ballot box. It needs the support and acquiescence of all the other institutions of governance in the country.

Redistributed power is possible: it is our power anyway. We just have to take the power back.

Maybe “communitarian” would be more accurate

In the last post, I implied that we will reach global sustainability more effectively from the bottom up than from the top down. The more I think about it, the more I believe that’s absolutely true.

All the problems commonly identified in our current systems of governance are piled up against our attempts to achieve sustainability. In other words, the perfect worked example of why we need systemic change, which is worth spelling out.

1. Vested interests. The business sectors creating the most waste, pollution and greenhouse gases while consuming vast quantities of non-renewable resources are also among the most profitable and/or high turnover businesses. In a system that, by its very definition, runs on the accumulation of capital, i.e. where money is power, these vested interests are also the most influencial.

2. Disconnect. The prevalent view is that since climate change (seen as the most urgent sustainability issue) is a global issue so it as to be tackled at the global level. At the same time, the pre-eminent global governance body, the United Nations, is perpetually being criticised as being undemocratic and ineffectual. Proposals have been around for some time to improve the UN (streamline it, make it directly elected, make involvement dependent on human rights record, whatever) but the irreconcilable truth is that global governance is neither feasible nor desirable except where global consensus exists. Which is not much.

3. The prisoner’s dilemma. Western governments (well, the US anyway) have been quick to point out that they have every intention of addressing climate change but they will not do so if it disadvantages their industry and economy. This may be completely untrue, since investment in sustainable technology will give a nation an economic advantage, but they won’t be convinced. Or maybe they are simply lying to excuse bowing to vested interests. The grain of truth in this assertion is a form of the prisoner’s dilemma (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prisoner's_dilemma) and the world’s greatest powers will not move towards sustainability fast enough unless they can recognise the dilemma and trust each other to do their share. The dynamics of global politics do not engender trust.

4. Disconnect II. Where we do elect representatives to positions of power and influence, the power seems paltry and voting feels pointless. Voter turnouts and party-political activism are in seemingly terminal decline. Few people know who their Member of Parliament is, and fewer still know who their local councillor(s) is/are. Local government, with over 80% of its expenditure decreed by central government, is ineffectual because it has been made impotent. Members of Parliament represent an average of 74,000 voters in a population of nearly 100,000. If your only political activity is voting in a winner-takes-all election, it’s no surprise that it feels like pissing in the sea and expecting anything more than a moment’s warmth.

The antithesis of a flawed theory is not necessarily a correct one, but in this case—the struggle for sustainability—the flawed theory is that global governance will make us sustainable, when the evidence is that it cannot and will not, while leading from below is certainly more practical, easier for people to understand, and a damn sight more empowering.

Empowering, that is, for local communities. Which is why it might be less confusing to call my ideology “communitarian” rather than anarchist.

Is our sustainable development open or closed?

The great debate in cosmology is about whether the universe we live in is open or closed. It doesn’t matter in the slightest during the lifetime of our planet, but it is fundamental to our understanding of the nature of where we live. That is, will the expansion that started with the Big Bang continue until all energy dissipates into nothingness or will gravity’s pull (to put it crudely) bring everything back together in a Big Crunch? The former is described as open and latter as closed.

Similarly, there is a fundamental question about our species’ attempts to live sustainably. Sustainable development has been adopted as a requirement of government and business, with varying degrees of effectiveness, but that avoids examination of society’s absolute sustainability. In other words, is enough progress being made to ensure our indefinite existence? Or, how much sustainable development do you need to achieve sustainability?

We could add “in a finite amount of time”, but that caveat is self-inserting because sustainability will not wait for ever. We can only live unsustainably for so long, by simple definition.

So how do we determine whether any particular instance of sustainable development is open (ultimately unsustainable) or closed (improving quickly enough to achieve sustainability)? And can we then extend such a method to a community, nation, region or species?

Even quite simple systems like fish stocks have to be monitored over several years to get a clear picture of how fishing practices affect them. As a result, assumptions of effect have to be made and continually modified when planning sustainable development of any activity. But the evolving picture should quantify any permanent effects and trends, and the ultimate sustainability should be evident.

The activity of a community or organization could be assumed to be the sum of its component activities, so if each component activity is judged as sustainable then it should follow that that community’s activities are sustainable. And a slightly more complex criterion for sustainability would be that any unsustainable component activities would have to be balanced out by other positive activities--akin to carbon offsetting, but allowing strictly compatible effects.

The sustainability of the activities of larger groupings of people could be assessed in a similar additive way, until we can judge the ultimate sustainability of our species. But at present, with very little assessment being made, we can only make an informed guess.

Which brings me back to the comparison with cosmology. Where most experts (climate scientists, anthropologists, ecologists, historians, etc.) might judge our current rate of development as unsustainable, opinion is probably more evenly divided on the question of whether we can and will accelerate development enough to achieve sustainability.

Until the informed view becomes so hopeless that we no longer believe we can achieve sustainability, it will remain the prime objective. Or rather, it should remain the prime objective but the mainstream focus has been stuck on sustainable development with no recognition that such development has to be anything other than nominally positive.

This is one paradigm change that is probably best started at grass-roots level, because our species’ ultimate sustainability is the summed effect of its constituent communities. Each community has to achieve sustainability in isolation or in combination with others. Although “think global, act local” always seemed trite and unfair when so much human activity is already consolidated and globalised, communities can demonstrate sustainability one-by-one and the cumulative pressure will be brought to bear on the communities, nations and regions that remain.

As a final thought: achieving global sustainability, will necessitate societal change. Hence, the Green Revolution, if it is to happen at all, might well be won without ideological confrontation. And where’s the satisfaction in that?