Life under Capitalism – Page 64

Comment of the Day

Published on January 25, 2007

From a discussion at Lenin’s Tomb about why so many people who were so right-on when they were young become rightwing when reaching middle age, this comment by ant:

Psychologically speaking, i think that the phenomenon of the young middle class student radical who soons “outgrows” his early Leftism once his career becomes settled, can be explained in terms of the narcissism to which you rightly allude.

While “working class” proletarians know throughout their lives that they are just one of many workers, many “middle class” proletarians tend to remain in denial of this fact.

Thus the young student radical, on entering the world of work – say, in middle management or whatever – does not conclude that he is one of the working class and there is still a long way to go until the Revolution. Rather, he concludes – wrongly – that since the Revolution (with himself, of course, playing a key role) has not yet happened, then Marxism must be false.

Rather than saying to himself, “i am just another worker who must sell his labour power to a capitalist in order to survive”, he reasons to himself in the following way:

“i would never work for a capitalist (because i – unlike all those other people – am talented enough to be able to have the choice); therefore how do i explain the fact that i am clearly now having to look for work?; it must be because all that Marxism stuff was false, and hence entering this employment position is not entering into wage-slavery, but rather – as a talented and dynamic young person with highly sought-after skills – simply entering into free contract with another party.”

Hence while “working class” proletarians tend to see jobs as jobs, and themselves as workers, “middle class” proletarians tend to see jobs as careers.

Dance, Proles, Dance For Your Betters

Published on January 2, 2007

I heard this story on the news a little while and the more I think about it the more outraged I am. This story has really got to me. The thought of those tosserish HR types treating genuine job seekers as performing monkeys for their own entertainment says all you need to know about the wealth gap in Blair’s New Britain and the state of class relations in the UK. It’s one of the most disgusting jobseeking-related stories I’ve read in a long time.

B&Q want employees who can dance
Tuesday, January 2, 2007

B&Q: They blame it on the sunshine, the moonlight, and quite possibly also the good times.

If you’re going for an interview as a van driver at B&Q in the coming days, you’d better put on a sequined outfit and brush up on your dance moves.

The DIY giant seems to want drivers who can do a passable Passa Doble as much as it wants ones with basic road driving competence.

Several jobseekers attending interviews at the firm’s store in Norwich were faced with a bizarre request to do a jig as The Jackson 5’s hit Blame It On The Boogie was played. Some were even photographed by managers.

One of those interviewed said he felt like an ‘idiot’ as well as being embarrassed by the unusual request.

Union bosses are not happy with B&Q’s antics. ‘This is utterly bizarre,’ Ed Blissett, an official of the GMB union. ‘It seems to reduce jobs our members do to some kind of joke. It is time that B&Q stops this nonsense.’

B&Q said in a statement: ‘This session was run as the Norwich store was looking to recruit a large group of store based staff. The candidates were offered tea and coffee when they arrived and this was followed by a light hearted exercise before the formal interview process began.

‘This practise isn’t a formal part of our recruitment policy although our stores are encouraged to make sure candidates are relaxed before going into the interview process.’

Neither Bruce Forsyth or Tess Daly were available for comment.

Next year New Labour is to bring in welfare reforms that will force the chronically sick and disabled to engage in ‘work-related activities’ (up to and including forced medical treatment) or have their benefits cut, the decision to be made by medically unqualified outsourced benefits offocers, with no judicial oversight.

Dance, monkeys.

Ho Ho Bloody Ho and Virgin Rail Are Wankers

Published on December 28, 2006

Back from a very nice holiday spent with sons No’s 1 & 2 in Devon, 2 whole days of which were spent travelling. Non-Ukians think England is a dinky little island but in truth it takes over an hour to get from one side of Devon to the other and another half hour to the Somerset border. Think Ultima Thule with added pasties and clotted cream and you’d be about right. I had planned to try and blog hile away, but lacking the necessary gadgets to do so (my son not having internet access in his new flat yet) I didn’t. Yes, I know I could’ve found an internet cafe but Primark had really nice jumpers made by slave labour for six quid and there was lovely underwear at Marks and Sparks…

So anyway after my week of consumer gluttony, on the return journey -2 days after Christmas, the time when people are thinking of travelling for the New Year – one might think that the train companies might want to make some money and there’d be ample train provision.

This is where British readers laugh hollowly.

Nope, the train that runs from Penzance to Edinburgh, the train that takes in every major station in the Midlands on the way and stops at all of the North’s biggest cities , the train that connects with several airports, the conveniently-timed train, that lots of people want to catch – that bloody train had only four carriages and two loos, one of which was buggered and the other you couldn’t get to.

Naturally one of those four carriages was a virtually deserted First Class.

Even though all the other seats were already all reserved Virgin continued to sell open tickets. With the result that the journey turned into the 08.25 commuter service to Mumbai. Old people, the disabled and small children were virtually hanging off the roof.

Oy. I could go on at length and I see I already have. But a couple of things happened on the journey. First were the two visbly learning-disabled people who got on at Exeter and who stood foursquare blocking the gangway as people, suitcases and tempers poled up behind them, informing and sundry very LOUDLY that they were disabled and demanding people move and give them their seats.

After much confusion it transpired (via all the passengers overhearing their loudly whispered onversation with the young women nearest them) that the couple’s carer had booked the tickets and hadn’t told the rail company they needed help , which (in theory) they could have had he or she done so. Their seats would’ve been automatically reserved.

So did anyone have pity and give up their seat to the pair? Hell no, and I find it hard to blame them for it. This is probably going to sound horrible but the woman of the couple had such an obnoxious, wheedling yet demanding tone the carriage collectively turned its back, insofar as it was able given the lack of space. It was blatantly obvious from the repetition of the same phrase – “We’re disabled, we should have seats” repeated loudly and agressively over and over – that the woman, who was the more dominant of the two, had used the same tactic sucessfully before.

In the end the Martin and I gave them our seats as we were just coming to our station and the seats were only reserved to that point, but to be honest had we been going further, I’d’ve probably ignored them just as the rest of the carriage did.

Contrast this with the second event : a blind woman’s guide dog very nearly was crushed under the wheels of the train as we got off at Bristol. As the whistle blew there was such a crush trying to get on the train that as she and the dog were climbing onboard, it’s back feet slipped and with a loud yelp it slid uncontrollably backwards, scrabbling all the way, down between the train’s wheels and the platform, very nearly taking its owner with it. The poor animal was visibly distressed, not because of any pain it was in but because it was desperate to make sure it’s mistress was OK. Luckily several passengers had stopped the train and four of them bodily lifted the dog, a young golden labrador, back up onto the platform. I hate to think what might have happened had they not been so quick and so obviously did the owner, who we met later in the lift in floods of understandable tears.

It really illustrated the way people treat the disabled, even allowing for context: the blind oman with the dog is seen as valiant and worthy, the deserving disabled, and the the cognitively challenged couple, with no actual physical disability, is annoying irritation to be brushed off and ignored. I’m just as guilty as anyone else of that..

So anyway we’re finally home. And guess what? The main junction box in the flat blew and we just had to get an emergency electrician to replace it. A cable from the street top box had burnt through as a result of the power company doing a botch job on it, which blew every fuse and the whole box. We were very lucky the place didn’t burn down when we were away. It cost 330 bloody euro. On top of Christmas and an already battle-scarred bank account. Arrgh.

Oh and we seem to have acquired another cat during our absence. When we came in exhausted and foostsore last night, sitting large as life and twice as ugly on our sofa having cowed our three into stunned silence at its effrontery and having driven them to the sanctuary of our bedroom, was a largish young male tabby. Cheeky sod. We soon gave him the bum’s rush but he’s left poor three-legged Hector with a big claw gash in his neck. Brave little Hector, I’ve got him some posh turkey catfod as a consolation for that and for the the three of them missing the picking from the real turkey carcase, which by the way was hand-reared at a Devon organic farm and very delicious it was too.

Santa was very kind this year and brought me the boxed DVD set of David Attenborough’s fantastic Planet Earth and the biography of Frederick the Great by Nancy Mitford that I’d been wanting to complete my collection, ditto an album by Nostalgia 77, and a gorgeous pair of gold and amber earrings that match my hair.

So, how was your Christmas?

Read more: Festive domestic wibbling

Shorter NYT: “Why Can’t The Plebs Just Shut Up? Can’t They See We’re Better Than Them?”

Published on December 19, 2006

From the Style section of the New York Times (hat tip to Digby commenter Der) :

Pinned Between ‘Hi’ and ‘Goodbye’

‘Many people are finding themselves cornered by a loquacious stranger, especially one whom they’re paying.’

LOLA OGUNNAIKE
Published: December 17, 2006

THERE are days when Shannon Lanier, a producer at CBS Television, is too tired to have conversations with his doormen, all of whom are brimming with stories, none of which are brief. Sometimes, on his way up to his Bronx apartment, he dashes by them, pretending to be in a hurry. Occasionally he acts as if he’s on his cellphone.

“You don’t want to blow them off, because they’re nice and helpful, but the last thing you want to do is stand there and have a conversation when you’re so close to being home,” he said. It’s especially bad during this time of year. “They’re definitely extra chatty because they’re trying to get that holiday tip,” Mr. Lanier said.

It’s not just doormen looking to fill their stockings with extra cash who are talking up a storm. Year round, it almost seems part of the job description for certain people in the service business — cabdrivers, massage therapists, barbers — to share their ideas about everything from child rearing to religion, with little prompting.

Customers, to avoid appearing impolite or inviting bad service, often find themselves listening to monologues that last for minutes — minutes many say that they can’t afford to lose, especially during the holidays when schedules are tight.

Service providers don’t have a lock on chattiness. (Who hasn’t had a marathon conversation with Mother?) And in some jobs, like bikini waxing or dentistry, small talk is often welcome as a relief from the awkwardness of close quarters. But many people find it annoying to be cornered by a loquacious stranger, especially one whom they’re paying.

Lauren Booth, a legal recruiter in Manhattan, said that the barista at her Starbucks loves to yak away while whipping up peppermint mocha lattes and Guatemalan-blend coffees for his customers. He once told Ms. Booth a lengthy tale about his son finding his hidden Christmas presents early; he regularly gives her unsolicited advice about rearing her infant daughter; and he recently brought in pictures from his vacation and made her flip through the stack as he reminisced.

Though she had to get to work, Ms. Booth felt compelled to listen. “You can’t be rude to him,” she said. “I drink only decaf and if I make him mad, he might give me caffeine and I’ll be shaking all day.”

[…]

Oh the poor love, how she suffers! To have to actually interact with the peons, how frightful for her. How dare those uppity people remind the more important people that they actually exist and worse still, have lives. Ewwwww!

Maybe they could be fitted with chips of some kind to render them mute while carrying out their allotted functions? Then the important people don’t have to be reminded that the whole class of ill-paid body servants that their comfortable lives depend upon are actually human.

And about Christmas tips: don’t talk to me about the dignity of bloody labour being its own reward. How dignified is it that someone in a paying job in a supposed democracy earns so little they feel they have to be a performing monkey for the overfed and overprivileged, just to receive a tiny supplement to their meagre wages once a year from those who have so much more than they? Is it unreasonable to ezpect a little recognition from a regular customer for consistent good personal service ( and a year of having been treated as being invisible), without having to fawn or gush for it?

I’m not just picking on New York either: I expect similar things’re being said all over the smarter areas of London, Amsterdam and every other overpaid metropolitan area that depends on the urban poor for its existence.

Arseholes are everywhere and bah humbuggery rife all year round. (See also What Should a Billionaire Give — and What Should You? )

Read more: Economy, Income Inequality, Work, Jobs, Tips, Christmas

It’s A Small World, After All

Published on December 7, 2006

Now see, this is the reason I blog, so that someone else will take the ball and run with it.

Yesterday I posted a rather flip comparison using the latest global wealth inequality figures and a letter to the WSJ. but Belledame took those figures, broke them down, and extended her research to show how those global inequities are actually mirrored in the US and how, despite the continued mass delusion of belief in the Americam Dream, it’s no accident that the American rich keep getting richer and the poor, poorer.

And that ‘poor’ means you. What? You didn’t really think you were middle-class did you? Do you own your own means of production? No? Could you survive independently beyond maybe one or two last paychecks? No? That fat pension fund you’re were relying on, is it invested in the markets? Then it could disappear tomorrow: you’re working class just like the rest of us. Deal with it.

So many are in denial of this reality though. As Belledame says:

I’ll be honest. I had a bunch of reasons for not tackling this shit before; dunno if they’re the same as y’all’s or not. Well, one, I suppose relatively speaking I am comfortable enough to sort-of pretend this isn’t actually happening (although denial works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it); certainly more so if you factor in my family background, who by now i expect is in, oh, i don’t know what percentile, but i suspect it’s up there. Not in the supra-wealthy micro-fraction percentile, no, but…and especially globally…so.

And, gender stereotypes or not, I’ve always had issues with numbers, personally. I wasn’t kidding: math and anything related literally gives me nightmares. (I dread my upcoming statistics class).

And let’s face it: this shit’s boring compared to, oh I don’t know, blowjobs.

And yet.

Somehow, you know, call it a hunch; i have the feeling that even if I, we, most, all? of us? don’t start concerning ourselves with this shit pretty soon?

It’s gonna concern itself with us.

Well yes, it is going to. It’s inescapable. Create an unsustainable global economic system and everyone suffers whenit all goes pear-shaped.

As a long time Euroweenie socialist these sorts of glaring inequalities are not news: they are the reason for our huge protests at every G8 summit. So I posted the link rather glibly assuming it was recieved wisdom.

From a European perspective it does sometimes seem as though America is living in its own self-created bubble and doesn’t see or even want to see the self-created potential wave of global misery headed its way and which according to your figures, is already lapping at American feet.

Schadenfreude, though tempting, is pointless at this late stage because we’re all affected by this new reality of resource wars, declining quality of life and a fucked-up planet. On the streets of Amsterdam you can see people from all over the world who’ve had to flee to safety for whatever reason, economic, climatic or political, from their home countries, largely as a result of the rampages of international capitalism and the arms trade.

And every day drowned young Africans wash up on the shores of Italy and Spain, or Eastern Europeans and Asians asphyxiated in containers at Dover or Calais, desperate to get away from grinding poverty and warfare. So far the US has been insulated from many of the worst effects of global capitalism like these, but not for much longer.

If not for posts like Belledame’s about the way the current economic model affects Americans personally they’d never know it’s happening till it’s too late. Is there any reporting of this on US TV? I certainly haven’t seen it on Fox or CNN.

Americans’d be surprised at the goodwill that’s still out there though: we still don’t hate Americans per se, despite Iraq, despite everything – we know you’re just like us. Mostly. We just loathe what the guzzling juggernaut that your nation has become is doing and the way it’s driving the rest of the world into poverty to fuel its own temporary comfort and prosperity and its insane competition with China and India.

BTW, I’m British, and Britain is as prime an offender as the US. Our government talks about tackling global poverty, but Brown & Blair’s Britain’s right in there hoovering up capitalism’s crumbs, making money from moving all the money around, all the while applying free-market US business models to public services like the NHS and water supplies and being one of the biggest arms traders on the planet. Oh, and don’t get me started on the GATT agreements…

We’re also completely exasperated by US media and governments’ refusal to see the looming danger – even when the facts and figures are staring them in the face – because it doesn’t fit the mythical national narrative they’ve constructed, of ever expanding profits, military glory and boundless influence.

Unfortunately for that narrative and those who still beleive in it, so far history is heading exactly in the way Marx predicted.

How angry are the American people going to be when they realise this and that they’ve been had? Will they even realise it? And if they do how will that angry realisation manifest itself, if at all? I think all bets are off on what happens in US and consequently global, politics in the next 5 years. Events are moving so fast now any prediction is contingent and the rollercoaster is accelerating.

Is socialism the answer to such gross inequalities? Revolution? What? Is it too late already? I don’t bloody know, I’m just a blogger. At least some of us are attempting to create some equity even if it’s only by making the current obscene situation better known.

But whatever your politics, surely our common humanity says that such massive inequalities as these are totally unjust, unsustainable and something has to give globally, and soon.

Read more: Global inequality, Capitalism, Anticapitalism, Marxism, US