Are We Born Capitalists?

Are We Born Capitalists?

An Essay by Benjamin Brandall

A large group of human beings, primitive in nature, find themselves sentient on planet Earth. It is naturally clear to them that they have certain needs which can be satisfied exclusively with effort on the part of the human beings; thirst, hunger and shelter (the intake of oxygen being irrelevant at this stage, since this is planet Earth we are talking about). I will here assume some foreknowledge regarding how nations came to exist out of expansive family structures, as laid down by Engels in The Origins of Family, Private Property and The State. Of the Greeks in the late stage of barbarism Engels says:

...the entire people, regardless of gens, phratry or tribe, was divided into three classes: eupatrides or nobles, geomori or farmers, and demiourgoi or artisans, and the right to hold office was vested exclusively in the nobility … [this] shows that the division of labour between peasants and artisans was now firmly enough established in its social importance to challenge the old groupings of gentes and tribes. And, finally, it proclaims the irreconcilable opposition between gentile society and the stage; the first attempt at forming a state consists in breaking up the gentes by dividing their members into those with privileges and those with none and by further separating the latter into two productive classes and thus setting them against the other. [ref]

What are the driving factors characteristic to human nature which compel leaders to act in this divisive manner? And are capitalism and democracy intrinsically linked? To tackle the first question, we must deduce which aspects of human nature (assuming that it is in human nature at all) which empower, drive and promote capitalist ideologies. Selfishness could certainly be pinpointed as a defining characteristic of a capitalist system. In his book On Human Nature, Edward O. Wilson says that generosity without hope of reciprocation is:

...the rarest and most cherished of human behaviors, subtle and difficult to define, distributed in a highly selective pattern, surrounded by ritual and circumstance, and honoured by medallions and emotional orations. We sanctify true altruism in order to reward it and thus make it less than true, and by that means to promote its recurrence in others. Human altruism, in short, is riddled to its foundations with expected mammalian ambivalence. [p 149]

With these words still ringing, think of the state we are in, and why. Caring for oneself is the basis of capitalism. The artisans and farmers in the earlier passage from Origins are forced to look out for themselves. They are the oppressed underclass and cannot afford the time or energy involved with helping others apart from those they are genetically invested in. The Greek nobility, with their wealth and power could help others, in theory. But of what benefit to themselves? They have droves of labourers at hand, bowing to their whim. The nature of the oppression here is absolutely typical of capitalism, in the way that the workers are disposable and flexible, yet that is a one way system. As a farmer you could not pick your ruler, you could not pick your hours. You were the very essence of available labour, the hinges and bindings of capitalism.   Psychological theories which relate to evolution state that actions are dictated with little else in mind save for the desire to survive and reproduce. The psychological explanation for why humans long for company and companionship is that large groups bring safety, and thus increase chances of survival. This rather depressing, neurological deconstruction of personal relationships argues both for and against capitalism as human nature. On one hand, it states that humans need one another. This implies they would want to look out for their workers and make sure they are happy and thus loyal, which works in favour of the nobility. Two points to make about this: loyalty is not an option. You either work or you are unable to feed yourself and your family. The next is that the workers, of all ages since, have been the most populous class. The sheer mass of people gives them anonymity, and dehumanises them. The only thing within the reach of the nobility to ensure ‘happiness’ of workers is to pay them, they cannot be individually catered for, nor would they be, simply because there are so many of them. There is a psychological theory regarding group displays of aggression which states that anonymity and facelessness promotes cruelty from the empowered towards those who are faceless, and also promotes reduced inhibitions from those who are faceless. This theory could be used to explain the amount of workers revolts that have happened throughout the ages, how that through sheer mass the workers gain anonymity which results in empowerment (this can only be regarded as a catalyst of course, not as an initial cause).
The opposing point to the aforementioned neurological deconstruction is a sadder realisation.
Take The Good Samaritan for example. While it seems the samaritan in the story helps the wounded man with the best intentions, it is only really because he would feel guilty otherwise, and he helps to settle his own mind. Therefore based on this evidence, I can conclude that the most altruistic human beings are those most susceptible to the feeling of guilt. And furthermore, we can now draw links the opposite direction: between those who establish capitalist regimes over the proletariat and a decreased ability to feel guilt towards those in need.

Selfishness is not a trait people like to see in themselves. The working classes are forced to be selfish but for the upper class, it is often a choice. A cocainesque drive to acquire more and more capital, a life consuming compulsion where the profits are so bounteous that it becomes immaterial how much money is made, as long as the rate increases and increases. All of the points so far stated in this essay give some sort of justification for why the elite classes act as they do. But what hasn’t been explored is why the working classes put up with it. In Mark Fisher’s book Capitalist Realism, he subtitles it Is There No Alternative?. For those who are greedy and want to keep their financial influence, there is not. No system facilitates their needs quite so well. But why don’t the oppressed wage labourers speak out and make a real difference? Fisher examines one particularly interesting reason.

...anti-capitalism is widely disseminated in capitalism. Time after time, the villain in Hollywood films will turn out to be the ‘evil corporation’. Far from undermining capitalist realism, this gestural anti-capitalism actually reinforces it. Take Disney/Pixar’s Wall-E (2008). The film shows an earth so despoiled that human beings are no longer capable of inhabiting it. We’re left in no doubt that consumer capitalism and corporations – or rather one mega-corporation, Buy n Large – is responsible for this depredation; and when we see eventually see the human beings in offworld exile, they are infantile and obese, interacting via screen interfaces, carried around in large motorized chairs, and supping indeterminate slop from cups. What we have here is a vision of control and communication much as Jean Baudrillard understood it, in which subjugation no longer takes the form of a subordination to an extrinsic spectacle, but rather invites us to interact and participate. It seems that the cinema audience is itself the object of this satire, which prompted some right wing observers to recoil in disgust, condemning Disney/Pixar for attacking its own audience. But this kind of irony feeds rather than challenges capitalist realism. A film like Wall-E exemplifies what Robert Pfaller has called ‘interpassivity’: the film performs our anti-capitalism for us, allowing us to continue to consume with impunity.

This observation makes it clear that corporations indulge in a vast amount of self-parody, and the act of parody makes light of a gravely serious problem: everything we wear, eat, drink, see, hear, understand etc, is moderated to some degree by a corporation. From this aspect we can say they control the world, but looking deeper it is really the investors who control the controllers - it’s no surprise that the world is controlled by people who have money and their managers are in that position because they have more money than them. However, the richest people in the world do not have the influence that I’m talking about here. They can afford themselves just about anything  - houses, cars, other banal status symbols - but do not control anything apart from their own acquisitions. It is the corporations who are most sinister, because they are not just rich but also greedy and exploitative; the traits we discussed earlier. This passivity of the population when it comes to behaving in an anti-capitalist manner cannot purely be attributed to the media, but it does play a role. The population of the world can be divided into X categories, by class and political ideologies (I wish class was no longer an issue, but where oppressive wage labour is concerned, it always will be). These categories are: those who exploit capitalism in their favour, the nobles; those who are against capitalism but feel powerless to change anything, the bystanders; and those who are against capitalism and are ready to try and make a difference, the rebels. The most populous of these categories is the bystanders. The ones who have grown up into the regime and have it ingrained into their habits, routines, goals and everyday life. They may not necessarily like that it is a part of them, but do not care enough to change it.

Adorno - admirably, yet short-sightedly - attempted to rouse the working classes into a state of appreciation for the arts, and, as a Marxist academic, to stir up a fury against the ruling classes. His argument regarding popular music was that it required no attention on the part of the listener. It introduced nothing new to the creative world and pacified the wage labourers in a way that was not helpful towards his desired upheaval of bourgeois society.The composition hears for the listener. This is how popular music divests the listener of his spontaneity and promotes conditioned reflexes. Not only does it not require his effort to follow its concrete stream; it actually gives him models under which anything concrete still remaining may be subsumed. The schematic buildup dictates the way in which he must listen while, at the same time, it makes any effort in listening unnecessary. Popular music is "pre-digested" (Adorno, pX)

This criticism, in my eyes is completely correct and a brave thing to say. But for it’s aims - namely the enlightenment of the working class and subsequent proletariat revolution - it is misguided. His argument states that the working class don’t have enough energy or time left over at the end of the day to enjoy anything sincere, since they have been so hard at work. This provokes my mind to imagine when they would have the time to be enlightened by his essay, but overall it is an admirable statement and a very important piece of work.

In the society of 2013, fighting capitalism is swimming upstream. The powers of the system are so inexorable it is near impossible to formulate an orchestrated revolution. Some anti-capitalist institutions are still strong. In some places in London there is communal housing, squats and shared property in warehouses and old mansion blocks. But the laws and social norms in England are so dead against it that it makes the situation inhospitable. For a system like this to work, nationwide, there would have to be no theft, complete trust, respect for the personal rights of others areas and an organised coming-together of the population. Without this, private property is simply safer and easier to live in. Private housing is favoured by capitalists for obvious reasons. Firstly, in a 1 bedroom flat, you could theoretically have around 16 people sleeping on the floors, sharing the kitchen and bathroom, sharing the washing machine and kettle and dishwasher and fridge. Not comfortably, admittedly, so there would have to be a lot of respect for other’s values and space involved (something I think the human race is not yet ready for). Capitalists would hate this. A 1 bedroom flat should have up to 2 residents, and use 1 washing machine, kettle and fridge etc between them. In this system that means that instead of these 16 people buying 1 kettle to share, they each live in their own little flats, with their own washing machines, kettles, fridges etc, private and safe and clean and walled off from having to share. This is what the corporations would prefer, because they sell 8 times more kettles, 8 times more fridges and 8 times more flats in the block, etc.

But through coveting comfort, and an aversion to sharing, the human race has become mostly contemptful of this communal system. Why? Because it is demonised by corporations, and alienated by the nuclear family. Throughout time, the classic picture of a family - a mother and father, happily married in their private house with a few children who are all well provided for - has been exclusively the institution promoted by the media, thus demonising the idea of communal living. Communal living has been portrayed as dirty, animalistic, primitive and more or less - the sort of thing that homeless drug addicts do because they are too lazy or strung out to work towards a better life. And all to the benefit of the capitalists.

Why can’t we escape this system? Because it is a complex web of twisted values, secured and consolidated more strongly in the minds of each subsequent generation. Does it live off something other than the inert traits of human nature? Does democracy empower capitalism? Is this seemingly innocuous institution to blame for the exploitation of the poor?

In the essence of a democracy, in the UK, all those old enough to vote, may do so if they wish. However, it is the free market which is the more sinister aspect of democratic capitalism. Free markets are defined by Princeton University as ‘a market in which there is no economic intervention and regulation by the state, except to enforce private contracts and the ownership of property.’ In my opinion, this allows corrupt capitalists to be the state. To monopolise the market, to dictate terms as they see fit, to destroy small businesses (it is a dream to say that a free market allows them to flourish in this tough economic climate) and to gain financial control (and thus total control) of the population’s working lives (as workers for the corporations), of the population’s personal lives (the commodities they either need to or choose to consume). The existence of bottled water is the sickening apex of the whole horrid system.

A free market is meant to allow everyone an equal chance. A common mantra trotted out by neo-liberals is that anyone can succeed if they try hard enough! A few points to make, (and I’m nearly speechless on this matter) this attitude, combined with the perceived good intentions behind the impenetrable free market system, does nothing but to blame everyone who isn’t successful for their lack of effort and hard work, yet is veiled as an inspiring message. The phrase meets it’s first pitfall when faced with the impossible task of a badly backed business succeeding against a multinational corporation, whose turnover per minute is more than the small business would be worth in ten years. And whose fault is it when the small business shuts up shop for the last time, and cuts its losses? The owners, of course, for not trying hard enough.

As far as the perceived impossibility regarding the dissolution of corporations goes, it may not be all doom and gloom. Walking to work this morning, I saw an advert on the side of a McDonalds lorry which was something to the tune of ‘All our milk is organic. That’s what makes McDonalds’.

There are plenty of other similar advertisements around, all concerning the boutique/handcrafted aspects of produce which is obviously mass-produced in a way where the only care given to it’s quality is assurance that it adheres to the most basic food hygiene standards, to avoid legal action. It is clear that people don’t like to imagine what they consume is produced in this way. They would rather imagine McDonalds lovingly tending to each cow which faithfully and so graciously produces their milk. Another example is the ‘A Coffee For [Name]’ campaign by Starbucks earlier this year. This personalisation is a thinly-veiled attempt to appear not as a faceless corporation, but as a tailored bespoke service. This campaign is currently being echoed by Tesco Supermarket; not satisfied with ‘Hi I’m [Name]’ name badges, they now include a fun fact about the cashier. These attempts by corporations to seem small and individualised as opposed to all-encompassing financial powers is actually a confession that their behaviour is quite the opposite. Small companies do not have to tell you how they accommodate your personal needs. Because they are small, the assumption is that you do genuinely matter as a customer, because the amount of people they deal with corresponds to the size of the business. Corporations are singing their own swan song. They have the facts and figures that we don’t, and their reaction to these figures is that they are being cast aside in favour of small businesses. It is an admission of failure and a signal that they know they are in serious decline. Furthermore, I theorise that the popularity of chain coffee shops and restaurants could be attributed to a lack of controlled social spaces where people can meet friends or relax without sitting at home. Since nearly all public spaces are either outdoors or monetised by corporations, people seek refuge in the form of coffee shops and similar spaces. I would read this as a call for communism, and not as a thumbs up to Starbucks to keep doing what it is doing.

Bibliography

Engels, F. and Leacock, E. 1972. The origin of the family, private property, and the state, in the light of the researches of Lewis H. Morgan. New York: International Publishers.

Wilson, E. 1978. On human nature. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

Adorno, T., Leppert, R. and Gillespie, S. 2002. Essays on music. Berkeley, Calif.: University of California Press.

Fisher, M. 2009. Capitalist realism. Winchester, UK: Zero Books.