Former IMF
chief economist Joseph Stiglitz has a message for everybody who's sitting
around waiting for the economy to "get back to normal."
Stop
waiting. ‘Cause that train’s gone, and it ain’t coming back. And the sooner we
accept that “normal,” as post WWII America knew and loved it, will not be an
option in this century, the sooner we’ll get ourselves moving forward on the
path toward a new kind of prosperity. The only real question now is: What
future awaits us on the other side of the coming shift?
In a
don't-miss article in
this month’s Vanity Fair, Stiglitz argues that our current economic
woes are the result of a deep structural shift in the economy — a
once-in-a-lifetime phase change that happens whenever the foundations of an old
economic order are disrupted, and a new basis of wealth creation comes forward
to take its place. The last time this happened was in the 1920s and 1930s, when
a US
economy that was built on farm output became the victim of its own success.
Advances in farming led to a food glut. As food prices plummeted, farmers had
less money to spend. This, in turn, depressed manufacturing and led to job
losses in the cities, too. Land values in both places declined, impoverishing
families and trapping them in place.
Stiglitz
thinks that we’re going through much the same kind of process again now, as the
postwar manufacturing-based economy that saved us 80 years ago moves offshore,
leaving our manufacturing workforce just as surplus and idle as those 1920s
farmers were. In his view, the current phase shift is taking us away from
industry-as-we’ve-known-it, and on into an economy that will have us relying
more and more on many different kinds of knowledge work. (This isn't a new
thesis; Daniel Bell was writing about it back in 1973.) But Stiglitz goes on to
point out that because people are misunderstanding the moment, we're investing
in the wrong things.
Austerity
and debt reduction will get us nowhere, in this view. In particular: it won't
change the fact that we have too many manufacturing workers and too few
information workers. Stiglitz argues forcefully that this gap is likely to
remain open until our governments make a long-term commitment to do what they
did in the 1940s -- that is, fund the kind of aggressive education, research,
and infrastructure investments that will finally get us fully transitioned to
the new phase. The current economic crisis is doomed to last exactly as long as
we delay put off building that necessary to the new information economy. When
we come out the other side, there will still be farmers and manufacturers — but
even they will be leveraging the power of the Internet to create new wealth.
Everybody will.
But
Stiglitz is far from the only theorist who’s trying to look beyond the phase
change, and figure out what new form wealth might take when we get to the far
side of it.
Another one
is Thomas Homer-Dixon, a Canadian
economist who wrote The
Upside of Down. Homer-Dixon marshals evidence that all great empires
rise and fall by controlling the dominant energy supply of their age. The
Romans used roads and aqueducts to harness solar energy (in the form of food)
from around the Mediterranean basin, and used that surplus to fund the most
complex society of its time. The Dutch empire rose on its superior ability to
master wind technologies — the windmill and the ship — to extend its land
holdings, run early manufacturing industries, and extend its trading reach
around the globe. The British empire rose on
coal-powered steam engines, which gave it more productive industries,
railroads, electrical generators, and faster ships. The US eclipsed the Brits
due to its vast wealth in oil — a far more concentrated and fungible fuel — and
inventions from cars and planes to plastics and fertilizers that allowed it to
make the most of its advantages. And the Chinese are now making huge investments
in renewable energy and safer, more efficient second-generation nuclear power,
which they can use to fuel their ascent to global primacy.
The bottom
line in Homer-Dixon’s theory is this: Everything that Americans understand as
“wealth” under the current paradigm comes from oil. It’s the foundation of our
entire economy, and the ground our superpower status stands on. Our cities are
built on the assumption of cheap, plentiful oil. Our consuming patterns are
made possible by a fleet of oil-burning trucks, ships, and planes that bring us
goods made in oil-driven factories. Our warmaking machine, which is largely
tasked with protecting our oil interests around the world, is the single
largest consumer of energy on the planet. Even our food is created with vast
oil-based inputs of fertilizer and pesticides; and we enjoy a year-round
variety of foods (bananas! chocolate! coffee!) that is unprecedented in human
history because oil makes cheap transport and refrigeration possible.
And the
pain and fear caused when we're forced to face this fundamental fact explains
quite a bit about why ideas like climate change and peak oil are so viscerally
terrifying to so many Americans. (In many right-wing circles, denial about the
American oil addiction is now a core piece of their political identity. It’s
considered anti-American to even suggest that getting off oil is necessary or
possible.) We are so deeply invested in oil, in so many ways, that it’s almost
impossible for us to envision a world beyond it. We stand to lose so much that
it’s hard to fathom it all.
And this,
says Homer-Dixon, is why no empire has ever survived an energy-related phase
shift with its full power intact: the reigning hegemons are always too deeply
invested in the current system to recognize the change, let alone respond to it
in time. And so they are always superceded by some upstart that’s motivated to
put more resources and risk into aggressively developing the next source. The
decline of oil as the energy reality of the world has deep implications for
every aspect of American life in the coming century. It’s a phase shift at the
deepest level.
Other
theorists, including Gar
Alperovitz, Jeffery Sachs and Umair Haque, agree that
there’s a phase shift happening under our feet — but they believe the real
shift lies in the changing structure of capitalism itself. Forming markets is a
core human activity that we’re not any more likely to abandon than eating or
breathing. But our understanding of the purpose and value of markets — and the
role of capital within them — is overdue for a profound change. Haque argues
that “twentieth-century capitalism’s cornerstones shift costs to and borrow
benefits from people, communities, society, the natural world, or future
generations." But, he continues, "both cost shifting and benefit
borrowing are forms of economic harm that are unfair, non-consensual, and often
irreversible.” The result is a great imbalance that we are finally being forced
to fully reckon with, one that will call us to radically change our focus,
creating a totally new kind of capitalism.
Haque makes
a distinction between “thin” and “thick” value. Things with “thin” value tend
to be artificial, unsustainable, and meaningless to anyone but the people who
produce and consume them. Hummers, McMansions and Big Macs are all examples of
thin value items. They’re produced without any recognition of our larger values
context or the externalized costs to the community, and consuming them tends to
add to the overall imbalance in our economy. Thin value, he writes, is “profit
that is in many ways a financial fiction, because it fails to exceed a fuller,
truer economic cost of capital.” And the phase shift is evident in the fact
that the companies that are falling hardest right now are the ones whose past
profits have relied most heavily on monetizing our common wealth for private
profit.
“Thick”
value — produced by companies that practice “constructive capitalism” — is
value that is sustainable, that has a moral component that matters, and that
multiplies itself. Companies that practice it tend to win because they produce
things that have a deeper meaning to people. Their real wealth isn’t what
they’re able to extract from the rest of us, but in their long, deep, trusting
relationships with their customers. The world is shifting from the economics of
a game reserve to those of an ark, says Haque. The companies that are thriving
now are the ones that increasing their focus on “constructive advantage” — “how
free a company is of deep debt to people, communities, society, the natural
world, or future generations.” While this focus-shift is far from complete, the
current economy abounds with firms that are showing us a new way forward.
(Apple is a prime example of a company that creates “thick value,” but we’ve
seen recently that its commitment to this ideal has some rather glaring thin
spots.)
Alperovitz’
vision extends this by revamping how wealth flows in society. He points to a
quiet revolution that’s already much further along than anybody realizes — the
move toward worker- or consumer-owned cooperative businesses, in which distant
shareholders are replaced by local stakeholders who have a deep personal
interest in how every aspect of the business is run. Already, four in 10
Americans belong to some type of co-op business (if you have a Costco or a
credit union card in your wallet, you’re already on board here); and America ’s
30,000 cooperatives provide over 2 million jobs. (Many, many more fun factshere.) The UN has declared
2012 to be the Year of the Co-Op, in recognition
of the fact that nearly half the world’s population now belongs to
cooperatives. Co-ops are already forming a formidable challenge to Wall
Street-driven 20th-century capitalism, and their expansion through the coming
century would represent a massive redistribution of labor and wealth — a phase
shift that favors the direction Haque suggests.
These are
just a handful of the many serious theorists out there describing the deep
structural changes we’re undergoing. Not all of them, to be sure, are this
cheery (and I’ve
made my own contributions to the dystopian canon in the past). There
are so many now, in fact, that their very numbers might taken as evidence that
we’re going through something uniquely new and deep. Our government is broken.
Our economy is broken. Our infrastructure is crumbling. Our major institutions
— education, religion, culture — are inadequate to the tasks at hand.
These are
all signs of an old world passing away, clearing the way for a new one to arise
in its place. And the sooner we let go of our assumption that going back is
desirable, or even possible, the sooner we’ll be able to fully embrace the new
things that lie ahead.
Sara
Robinson is Alternet's senior editor in charge of the Visions page. A trained
social futurist, she's particularly interested change resistance movements. She
does foresight and strategic planning consulting for a wide range of
progressive groups.
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