Sneering at dissidents: spiritual tonic for the modern bourgeoisie

As much as I love David McRaney for the challenge his blog poses to many of my misconceptions, one of his archived posts touches on a subject that winds me up.  It seems to be a cherished myth for those who would prefer not to reflect on the social and ecological cost of their lifestyle choices that there is no escape from the relentless onward march of global capitalism.  There is no rebellion one could engage in that impacts the big picture, no message one can communicate that isn’t fraught with hypocrisy and naivete, no behavior one can exhibit unmotivated by raw self-interest.

In McRaney’s (truncated, emphasis-added) words:

Wait long enough, and what was once mainstream will fall into obscurity. When that happens, it will become valuable again to those looking for authenticity…

You would compete like this no matter how society was constructed. Competition for status is built into the human experience at the biological level…

You sold out long ago in one way or another. The specifics of who you sell to and how much you make – those are only details.

The subtext here is that the only way people can ever hope to express “authenticity” is by buying a shitload of pointless kitsch purposely designed for the “authentic” demographic.  Therefore, the story goes, we are all trapped.  There is no escape.

But what about simply being authentic?  It’s way cheaper and more effective than buying a T-shirt that says “I’m authentic!”  It requires only that we make a serious effort to determine what has real, immutable value to us and attempt to conform our behavior to whatever revelations unfold.

Adam Smith’s argument that pure self interest is the ultimate human motivator has captured the imagination of the bourgeoisie to such a breathtaking extent that competing philosophies are no longer seriously considered by most Western pundits, politicos and ideologues.  I suspect the idea is beguiling because, in a world where a minute fraction of the population sits on the lion’s share of the wealth, the notion that we can effortlessly advance the greater good simply by looking out for ourselves absolves us of shame.  If we can also embrace the delusion that it is impossible to free ourselves from selfish concerns, we can ignore claims that when “the self” is taken out of the picture, compassion flows as indiscriminately as rain and ethical behavior naturally arises.  We are not moved to contemplate how different our culture might be if it were structured around compassion rather than selfishness as long as we insist “compassion” is merely a deluded form of selfishness, from which there is no escape.

With the dogma of inescapable selfishness firmly entrenched, activists, dissidents and revolutionaries can be dismissed as childish, petulant attention seekers.  Even if some dissidents might have been partly motivated by lofty concerns to begin with, their message is entirely meaningless if it becomes popular or profitable.

Suffice it to say, I do not share this perspective.  I believe it is irresponsible, inaccurate, immature and empirically unsupportable.  While it’s true that the concept of individual self-interest underpins our current understanding of biological evolution, research makes it clear that selfishness is not our only motivator.  As it turns out, we are hard-wired to experience the joy and suffering of others as if it were our own.

As a dissident motivated by the desire to reduce the suffering of others, it seems obvious to me that the primary psychological force behind most forms of dissident behavior is empathy.  Whether for children laboring in unsafe factories, civilian victims of state violence, displaced or destroyed wildlife in a devastated biosphere or any other organism we believe has the capacity to feel pain or distress, we object because we feel it too.  It seems equally clear that the primary psychological force behind capitalism is indeed selfishness, exactly as its proponents would have us believe.  I have no idea how anyone is able to subvert their inherent capacity to feel the suffering of others when it interferes with their own personal gain, but I take great comfort in the knowledge that the pure selfishness embraced by the most passionate proponents of capitalism is not a universal and inescapable law.

To return to McRaney’s quote, if Ghandi could overthrow the British empire wearing nothing but a home-spun loincloth, surely there is more that is “built into the human experience” than “competition for status” and we have a great deal of choice in how we behave, regardless of how society is structured.  If the human psyche has a greater range of motives than pure self-interest, surely it makes a difference upon which specific values our society is constructed.  We have learned from our own experience that a society constructed on the principle of selfishness behaves selfishly.  It is not a great leap of imagination to propose that a society constructed on the principle of compassion behaves compassionately.

More on the search for classier blogs…

Here are a few good finds:

You are not so smart illuminates widespread misconceptions about the world by summing up psychological research on the subject of each post.  Essential reading for maintaining an honest amount of skepticism.

Arthur Silber and Chris Floyd have rhetorical skills occasionally reminiscent of Shaw or Twain, and on top of that I agree with nearly everything they write.

Greg Palast is an independent investigative journalist.  Perhaps I should say the independent investigative journalist, since I am not aware of any other freelancers who go further in their investigations than “whatever they can find on the internet” (although I’d be delighted to hear about them if they’re out there.)

That’s it for now.

The pressing need for adult supervision

Lord of the Flies is disturbing because it reveals a few dark insights about human nature.  Left to their own devices, the juvenile characters in the book become tribal, authoritarian, superstitious, punitive and reactionary.  Their perspective becomes increasingly divorced from reality and their new, irrational perceptions are reinforced by group thinking and the collective persecution of the weak.

The book springs to mind because it’s recently occurred to me how strongly the behavior of BP resembles the type of behavior I expect from a little girl I look after, and that of very young children in general.

Rose, let’s call her,  being three, is completely unruffled by precautionary concerns.  If she wants to run through the house in her sock feet, she simply can not see the sharp edges and slippery floors surrounding her or contemplate the danger they present.  She can’t grasp that her motor skills are less than precise even without perils lurking at every corner.  If I tell her it’s dangerous to run in the house, she does not believe me.  From her perspective, it’s ludicrous to suggest that it is an undesirable activity.  How could it be when she so desperately wants to do it?

Rose has injured herself on numerous occasions as a direct result of being inadequately cautious. She’s tripped and fallen on her face, bruised her shins, cut herself, bonked her head repeatedly and nearly put out an eye.  Every time, she considers herself the tragic victim of the brutal hand of fate.  For her, the dangers and potential consequences were unforeseeable.  She demands comfort and sympathy rather than simply making a mental note of each injury in order to adapt her behavior next time she gets an urge to go nuts inside the house.  Every time she hurts herself, it’s terribly unfair from her point of view.

This is all perfectly reasonable – after all, she’s only three.

BP on the other hand (not to mention the rubber-stamping governments who permit them to operate with no oversight whatsoever) is purportedly comprised of grown-ups.

But how do they behave?  Rather than heed warnings of terrible danger and conduct themselves accordingly, they deny the danger exists and carry on doing exactly as they please.  It is inconceivable to them that deep water drilling might be an undesirable activity when the risks are weighed against the gains.  When the dangers become impossible to deny on account of a major catastrophe occurring as a direct consequence of their irresponsible behavior, it was “unforeseeable“, or “an act of God“.  They are the victims and as such they yearn for comfort and consolation from the rest of us.  They resolutely reject the notion that the catastrophe was a consequence of their behavior.  They offer no proposals for how their future behavior might be modified by anything they have learned, and if their behavior since the Exxon Valdez spill is any indication, it will not be modified at all.  meanwhile, the catastrophic consequences of their behavior continue unabated.

It seems to me that BP is behaving like a very small child and has been for a long time.  Perhaps this too is understandable.  Making boatloads of money is probably almost as much fun  for Tony Hayward and his peers as running around the house in sock feet is for Rose.

My question is, where are the grown-ups who ought to be saying “no” to the ludicrously dangerous and minimally rewarding (for the rest of us) activities BP desires to engage in?  The governments of every nation I can think of behave more like playmates to the captains of industry than proper adult supervision.  Cautious voices have been all but completely ostracized from public discourse.  The mainstream media chases after sound bites from leaders who are tribal, authoritarian, superstitious, punitive and reactionary and passes them off as news.  Mainstream commentary has become increasingly divorced from reality and our new, irrational perceptions are reinforced by our collective persecution of the weak.  The most a grown-up can hope for in this day and age is a patronizing pat on the head from the cadre of unsupervised children who are driving this planet so far beyond its capacity to sustain life that it may never recover.

I don’t know if this inverse relationship between wisdom and power will continue for the rest of my days, but since it seems to have endured for the entire history of Western civilization, I have to assume that it will.  It’s enough to make a grown-up feel very much at odds with the world.

BP blocks press, press calls on public

Huffington Post has a slide show of 265 images of the BP spill.  Recommended viewing for those who would seek to underplay the scale of the disaster, but still lacking the gut-wrenching images of suffering wildlife that characterized BP’s other big American fuck-up, the Exxon Valdez spill.  BP will not allow photographers to travel freely in the area, lamely asserting it’s a “safety issue” when it is quite obviously a PR issue.  How can it be a “safety issue” to specifically exclude press from scheduled flights?  It’s either safe or not safe, whether you have a camera or not.  Considering the fact that their contractors have no meaningful safety gear at all, it seems they consider it “safe”.

The San Fransisco Chronicle has called upon the public, including contractors working on the clean-up to please document the disaster during the press black-out, and have written iphone and Android apps to facilitate the easy upload of pictures.

I certainly hope local residents take up the challenge.  The civil damages BP will be forced to pay will be partly based on the perceived scale of the ecological impact.  To allow them to downplay the impact on wildlife is to cheat local communities out of future compensation.

It must be said at this point I can not fall asleep any more without fantasizing about Tony Hayward, who thinks he’s the victim, being pilloried in some public square and repeatedly kicked in the crotch, or Sarah Palin, who blames environmentalists for the spill, being  made to bob for apples in a vat of crude oil to get a sense of what it’s like to be a pelican these days in the gulf of Mexico.  It brings me a sense of peace.

Update: Greenpeace is hosting a logo rebranding contest and got me all inspired.

More doing, less kvetching

This is my recent resolution, but on further consideration I decided to amend that to “more doing than kvetching”, since I can’t morally justify letting up on my criticism of certain wrong-headed evangelical policies with enormous social costs.  I can change the tone of my complaints – a little less potty mouth and a few more verifiable facts and reputable studies supporting my arguments – but failing to complain would be no different from consenting.   Nonetheless, I need to add some meaningful action to the mix and, rather than grabbing issues that are in the headlines and regurgitating them with my opinion attached, see whether or not I might be able to pick up on some things that are not in the headlines at all.

To that end, I popped into an urban women’s centre today to see if I could lend a hand.

It was pretty obvious from the get-go that I could.  The centre takes up a single cramped floor of a tiny detached house.  There were half a dozen women milling around.  One was using the internet and the rest were milling around in the kitchen.  A practicum student in rubber gloves was trying to fix a broken toilet seat, and the director of the centre looked frazzled after dealing with three or four client requests, a pair of prospective volunteers and the landlord (about the toilet) in rapid succession.  It was complete chaos.

When she had a few minutes between crises, the director showed me around.  Internet, printer, fax and phone for drop-ins, a room for special events and counseling, a clothing exchange, kits of dishes and other stuff for women making the transition out of homelessness, kits of blankets and other gear for women going the other way, an office for tenant advocacy, a cache of professional clothes for interviews and court dates.

There was a lot of stuff packed into that quick and harried tour.  To be honest I didn’t take it all in on account of noticing distracting little details that clued me in on what I am getting myself into.  A note on the bulletin board reading “BAD DATE: about 35, brown hair, new to the area”.   A faint whiff of and alcohol, cigarettes and way too much fresh air coming off a cheery, nearly toothless old woman.  A disproportionate number of aboriginal clients roughly the right age to have been subjected to Canada’s horrific residential schools.   Comments like “whatever you do, don’t tell them about the staff bathroom – I don’t want anybody shooting up in there”.

Suffice it to say, all of this was pretty much in line with my expectations but sticking myself into the middle of it was a bit of a shock all the same.  I found myself worrying that I would never be trusted by these women without knocking out a couple of my teeth and somehow getting my face to look a little more careworn.   I’ve been told I look young for 35.  Sometimes I still get asked for ID when I  buy booze.  Some of the clients had lines on their faces in places I didn’t know lines could be.  I found myself confronting the problem of boundaries.  How do you gracefully end a conversation with a gregarious homeless alcoholic?  How do you not care too deeply about the fate of somebody else’s drug addicted daughter?  I found those concerns almost put me off the whole affair.

But, at the end of the day, somebody’s got to do it, so I signed up.  With a $250,000 budget shortfall this year due to some very aggressive public funding cuts, the place can use all the help it can get.