Them That's Got Shall Get

Conservatives seem to genuinely believe that liberals are profoundly hostile toward the rich and want nothing more than to tear them down, take their money, and become rich people themselves. As far as they are concerned, this is the sole motivator and aim of liberal "redistributionist policies" and of the Occupy Wall Street movement in particular. On the surface, this interpretation makes some kind of sense. People who have less are protesting against people who have more. Liberal politicians are advocating policies that would take something from those who have more and spend on everyone, including those who have less. Conservatives of all socioeconomic stripes buy into this notion. I would like to explain why they are wrong and what this tells us about the fundamental difference between liberals and conservatives.

I grew up in a blue collar household. My family was in the heating and air conditioning business. My dad was a union sheet metal worker. We never had a lot of money, but we had the basics required to live a peaceful, middle-class existence: a mortgage in the suburbs, health care, vacation pay (though we couldn't really afford vacations very often), sick pay (though my dad didn't call in sick for over 20 years), and the promise of a retirement pension. My siblings and I were able to attend private Catholic schools (they were abundant and very affordable in the midwest). In other words, while it might not always have felt like it, we were living the American Dream. Not the elusive, anecdotal version where you pull yourself up from poverty by the bootstraps and become a millionaire, but the one where you agree to work hard for 40-60 hours each week in exchange for the opportunity to raise a family and enjoy life a bit.

I'm quite sure that my parents hoped that my siblings and I might live out that other American Dream - the millionaire version. After all, don't all parents hope their children will surpass their own level of success and provide for them in their old age? But I never really had such aspirations. I'm not sure why, but I think it's because the middle class seemed like such a good deal to me that I just didn't feel the need to yearn for more. It's important to note that that doesn't mean I haven't been willing to work every bit as hard as someone who yearns for great wealth - only that great wealth has not been the inspiration for that work.

So wealth has never been a motivating force in my life, but I do not for a moment begrudge others their own wealth. Without the people at the top, there would be no middle for me to belong to.  But the people at the top have forgotten the corollary: Without the people in the middle, there can be no top for them to belong to. It is not their wealth that is a problem. It is the disparity that has been growing for thirty years. A rising tide must lift all boats in order for the social contract to work. If you don't think the growing disparity is a problem, then you must answer these questions: How wide would you allow that gap to grow? Practically speaking, isn't there going to come a point at which the people at the bottom can no longer afford to increase the wealth of the people at the top? And hasn't our monarchical past taught us that concentrated power and wealth will never stand? Isn't that why we came here? They may not call themselves Kings and Queens any longer, but they serve the same function.

But I digress. Allow me to get back on track by proposing the following schema for classifying people on a psycho-financial basis:

a) People who are motivated by a desire for wealth and have it.
b) People who are not motivated by a desire for wealth but have it.
c) People who are motivated by a desire for wealth but do not have it.
d) People who are not motivated by a desire for wealth and do not have it.

This simple schema would explain a few vexing phenomena. Michael Moore, for example, can't get through an interview without someone asking how he can be such a vociferous critic of a system that has benefited him so greatly. The answer is simple - he is a Type B individual. It would be hard to make the case that Michael Moore got into documentary filmmaking with the goal of becoming extraordinarily wealthy - especially when his films have always been brutal attacks on the moneyed elite. He became rich because his own passions resonated with the public - not because he set out to become rich.

Many successful people fall into this category. Consider doctors - good and bad ones alike. Some got into medicine out of a genuine interest in medical science or a passionate desire to heal. Others got into the field because doctors make really good money. I think you would find that conservative doctors fall into the latter group. You are probably more likely to find them on the golf course than volunteering for Doctors Without Borders. Again, either type might turn out to be a brilliant or incompetent physician based on many other factors. The motivation is only important within this schema.

Now let's consider folks like Joe the Plumber. These are the people Thomas Frank wrote about in What's the Matter With Kansas? They present a conundrum in that they appear to be advocating against their own self interests with their votes and voices. I would suggest that these are Type C people. They hope(d) or plan(ned) to be rich one day and are thereby naturally sympathetic to those who have achieved the goal that motivates their own existences, even if their own progress toward that goal is not going as well as they'd hoped.

Type A individuals are easy to spot. Watch the new film Margin Call for a magnificent case study of them. The movie presents a meticulously layered portrayal of the various types of people who fall into this category. They are not simply the gross caricatures of the wholly evil suits that you might expect. They include: Peter (Zachary Quinto), the brilliant and earnest former rocket scientist who stumbles upon the data that is about to bring the economy crashing down in 2008; Eric (Stanley Tucci), the former bridge builder who is laid off unceremoniously at the beginning of the film after 20 years; Sam (Kevin Spacey), the fast talking, fast dealing, show-me-the-money boss who first appalls us when he is more devastated by his dying dog than by the massive number of human beings he just laid off, but later displays the dying remnants of his conscience and humanity but is ultimately unable to redeem himself; John Tuld (Jeremy Irons), the financial automaton (clearly modeled on Dick Fuld), whose only concern in the world is the survival and enrichment of himself and his firm at any cost.

These men could not be more different from each other in their biographical histories and personality types. What they have in common is that each of them chose wealth over everything else, as evidenced by their career choices. They left behind families, careers, passions, and principles to push money around, much of it into their own pockets. The longer they do it, the colder they grow to the world around them. They more money they get their hands on, the less important everything else becomes. You can argue that these are merely fictional characters, but you cannot argue that anyone goes into the money business out of any personal passion other than a passion for money. In fact, you will fail in the financial sector if you are not motivated by the desire to make massive amounts of money. I am not here to make the case that this is or is not a valid passion - I am simply trying to establish that there is a difference between people with that passion and people without it.

Moving on. I suspect that most of us fall into Category D. Sure, maybe we buy a lottery ticket now and again or speculate about what we would do with a million dollars, but our lives are motivated primarily by the desire to live a fulfilling life. Money is a means to an end for us, not the end itself. If we see improvement in our personal wealth, it is generally modest and allows us to pay off a little debt, make a home improvement, save it for a rainy day, or treat ourselves to something nice - like a new television. Or a sweater. So for us, a discussion about the distinction between making, say one million dollars and two million dollars is not something we can really engage in with any degree of seriousness. Whether Albert Pujols will sign a $200 or $300 million dollar contract is sort of an absurd abstraction to us. That would be 4,000 - 6,000 years at my current household income, just to give you some perspective. (Plus, he probably gets health and dental benefits for the whole family. I pay $400/month for my high deductible plan and I spent about $1600 on dental work last month.)

This brings us full circle to the question of disparity. I don't know anyone who really gives a rat's ass how much money rich people make. God speed to them and their money. But that attitude was formed in an environment in which the better off they were, the better off we all were - even if just a tiny, little, eensy-teensy bit. So unless you can explain how this gap could possibly grow unchecked, you have stumbled upon the fundamental complaint of the Occupy movement. And I mean you'd have to explain it in practical, economic terms. You can't just say "It's their money, they earned it, we shouldn't spread the wealth around, stop begging for handouts," etc. You have to explain the difference between the current imbalance and the sort of plutocracy our system was supposed to be an improvement on. You also have to explain why, if business is so oppressed by economy killing regulations and taxes, are the rich still getting richer? That argument might have some credibility if all sectors were suffering equally, but they are not. The folks at the top are still getting wealthier. The rest of us are still out here trying to pull our weight - but the rewards are being funneled to the top.

I would like to be a conservative. I would like to live in a world in which unions are not necessary because employers simply do right by their employees. I would like to live in a world in which we don't need to raise taxes on millionaires because millionaires are fairly distributing the wealth down through the ranks of their companies. Unfortunately, the system has run amok and the guys at the top have grown too disconnected from the real world that the majority of us live in. They've distorted the system so that it is making less and less sense for the rest of us to participate in it. Whereas the Tea Party has an abstract argument about the sustainability of our national debt in the long term, OWS is about something tangible. You can malign the OWS movement all you want for its sloppiness, but is simply a natural, populist reaction to the reality. There is no reason to expect it to be a highly refined movement. It is the stuff of revolutions, not of tidy political calculation. 

Perry's Hope

So this is what Perry prays for at night:

We Are All Polar Bears Now

What do polar bears have in common with the 99%? 

In my mid-life attempt to complete my BA, I find myself required to take Geography 100. While I would never have chosen the class myself, I must admit that I am finding it pretty damn interesting. It's nice to fill in the blanks that have long existed in my vague knowledge about some of these basic concepts. As a non-scientist, I have always held the field and the process in high esteem without feeling compelled to understand it at all. That sort of distance from the actual science has, perhaps, prevented me from realizing just how much is now known about...well, so many things.

For example, I have never questioned the science behind climate change. I have simply accepted the consensus of those who have devoted their lives to studying such things. A week ago, I couldn't have told you any more about climate change than the fact that temperatures are rising and ice caps are melting. I might even have been marginally susceptible to mild skepticism about the overall importance of rising temperatures in the grand scheme of things.

Having just grazed the surface of geographic science - looking at the basics of how Earth functions as a system - it has already become amazingly simple and clear to me, in a way that it was not before, that we are overloading that system, draining its resources, and imperiling the future of all living things on the planet. Paradoxically, it turns out to be much less complicated than I could have imagined before I knew anything about it.

We have managed to construct a conception of our place in the universe that goes something like this:

• The universe, of which Earth is a part, is incomprehensibly immense. 
• We are tiny. 
• Our puny little species couldn't possibly do any real damage to the wider world around us.

The fatal flaw in that schema is the distinction between our puny little species and Earth. Practically speaking, we are quite literally one with the earth. We, along with all living things, are trapped together in an infinitesimally small bubble - a snow globe, in which the glass represents the incredibly thin layer of atmosphere within which all life is possible. That layer extends upward from sea level a mere 480 kilometers. Just to give you an idea of how little space that actually is, the distance through the center of Earth at its widest point (the equator) is 12,756 kilometers. 

Here's what I never realized: Nothing gets into the bubble and nothing leaves the bubble, resource-wise. The only thing that enters the bubble is solar radiation. Yes, we project things out into space and many of them return, but this represents a statistically insignificant variation from the general rule. For all intents and purposes, we may as well have a glass barrier surrounding us. When you think about things this way, you begin to see that we are not puny at all, as far as Earth is concerned. We may be insignificant. It may not matter whether we live or die and kill every other living thing in the process. Either way, it simply cannot be denied that we are having a major impact on the behavior of matter inside this bubble of ours. 

Believe it or not, this piece is not about the environment. Well...it is and it isn't. Bear with me here as I attempt to pivot to the economy and the Occupy Wall Street movement. First, back to the environment for a moment. Look at this:

Source: http://www.epa.gov/climatechange/indicators/slideshow.html?

Roughly half of the Arctic sea ice has melted since 1970, with the losses increasing exponentially in more recent years. It is estimated that the remaining 23,000 polar bears will see their numbers dwindle by two-thirds by around 2050. Now those polar bears don't know or care anything about climate change. They don't know why they're nearly extinct. They don't know or care that a considerable number of humans refuse to accept the science supporting the notion that we are contributing to climate change. They don't know or care whether these people are motivated by politics, religion, greed, or all of the above. All they know is that the ice is disappearing from beneath them. Actually, they don't even know that...until they find themselves drowning in the middle of the too-warm Arctic ocean.

This is how we, the 99%, feel at the moment. The relentless pursuit of profit by the corporate sector is the energy that is overheating our financial atmosphere. The solid ground beneath our feet is vanishing, leaving us adrift in an ocean of uncertainty and dimming hope for the future. It doesn't much matter to us whether some deny this reality. The facts and figures speak for themselves: Rising corporate profits and increasing executive compensation for them; stagnating wages, rising unemployment, and increasing costs-of living for us. 

Both of these forms of denial are promulgated as conservative orthodoxy. Actual truth is no competition for their divine truth. If they can feel it, it is so. Reality be damned. This is the chief tactic of the new oligarchy. Just look at how successfully these two disparate issues have been manipulated in precisely the same way: 

• Appeal to the viscera. 
• Vilify science and intellectualism. 
• Deify individualism. 
• Demonize collectivism.
• Connect faith with finance. 

Once those principles have been instilled in the portion of the populace that is susceptible to them, the world is your oyster. You have established a visceral connection to your audience that does not require rationality. You have made them skeptical of anyone who is pompous enough to have become an expert in their field (while remaining free to profit from those people when it is convenient). You have trained them to decline a benefit for themselves in order to prevent others from receiving a benefit. Finally, you have secularized  the prosperity gospel by harnessing faith in the service of justifying selfishness and greed.

Take the polar bears, for example. Climate change deniers have followed these directions carefully and with great success. They viscerally hook their audience with contempt for the sort of hippie intellectuals who think they're smarter than everyone else, disseminating arbitrary factoids that look damn convincing to a layperson but have no scientific credibility when considered in context (if they're even factual to begin with). They incite righteous indigation of the "I'll-be-damned-if-anyone's-gonna-tell-me-what-kind-of-car-I-can-drive"sort, riling up the faux-libertarian that lurks within, as if personal liberty has anything to do with the question of whether or not we are warming the climate. They rally the troops against any notion that we, as individuals, have any responsibility to anyone or anything other than ourselves. Then, wire all of that into their faith system. Sell it like their pastors sell God. Make them feel it deep down in the cockles, where they are unable to think about it.

Our economic oppression has been accomplished and perpetuated using the same framework. They have successfully connected intellectualism to liberalism. (All liberals are high-minded, ivy-league snobs; all conservatives are...what?) They have elevated Ayn Rand to the status of Prophet, lending more credence to her founding principles than they ever have to those of Jesus Christ. Collectivism has been found guilty by association with its worst adherents and summarily executed in the square of public opinion.

We, as reasonable people, have been trained to feel that the use of words like "tyranny" and "oligarchy" and "fascism" is extreme and not applicable to anything that might occur in this great nation of ours. (Note that while socialistic ideas continue to have success in various sectors of economies all over the world, fascism has no corresponding positive associations. So when they call us "socialists," we are offended not at the term itself, but at their ignorance of what the word means and they ways in which they are the daily beneficiaries of socialistic systems. Once again, knowledge be damned. They merely want to tie us to Stalin - in the same way we could connect all Christians to Pope Innocent III.) We have been trained to behave. Revolt is for less civilized peoples. After all, we have iPods and plasma TVs. Why would we ever revolt?

Because the ice is melting out from under us. We were raised to believe that we could stay on solid ground if we played by the rules and worked hard. We grew up in a world in which a person willing to work 40+ hours a week could buy a home, start a family, provide for that family, take a vacation now and then, and retire before death. Pretty basic stuff for the "greatest nation in the history of the world," right? Sure, if you wanted to be a millionaire, you could try to go out and have a great idea and work day and night and build an empire - but ambition of that sort was not required by any means. Ambition is not the same as work ethic. I, for one, have never wanted power or great wealth. I grew up in a blue collar household and as a result I developed very modest expectations and desires. I just want to do something well, contribute my piece to society, and enjoy my family. That's it. Well, that's no longer enough.

The people with ambition decided that their ambition entitled them to a larger and larger piece of the pie. If us little folks can't be bothered to work as hard as them, then screw us. If we don't like it, we can get off our lazy asses and become investment bankers or invent something amazing, like Pillow Pets. Until then, we should take what scraps they're willing to provide in the form of jobs. That's right...they're the "job creators." They seem to think that they are bestowing a great gift by creating these precious jobs. What happened to the notion that employees are the most valuable commodity a company has? How exactly are the job creators going to get filthy fucking rich if we don't honor them with our time and service? If they're doing us such a favor, they should be able to get along without us, right? And who is going to buy their shit? If we don't allow them to pay us for our labor, where are we going to get the money to buy they stuff they're paying us to make?

They need us badly, but they've convinced us that it's the other way around - and they're taking a huge gamble. They're betting that if they pull the rug out just far enough - if they melt just enough ice - we'll all scramble to fit into the tiny space that's left. And we'll be grateful for it. Well maybe we won't. It's beginning to look like our only option is to get vicious on the bastards.  

Source: http://lostpedia.wikia.com/wiki/Animals/Theories