Flesh-eating zombie radio

"In a world where the dead are returning to life, 'trouble' loses much of its meaning."
-Kaufman, from Land of the Dead

Sunday, July 05, 2009

Summer is for bloggers

(Although it is winter here.) I have been at this for four years now. In that time, I have graduated college, studied in Argentina and lived in New Zealand, worked at several jobs (some odder than others), gone steady (and unsteady), written reams of paper, ruminated on war and growth and the end of the long American century, grown up (somewhat), and so on and so forth.

In a mode of smug self satisfaction, I will quote of of Todd Snider's many songs about riffraff and lowlifes:

Did we get arrested? No we did not
We didn't shoot anyone - we didn't get shot
We didn't hurt anyone - at least not a lot
And we got what we wanted
We got what we wanted.


In other news, Anne and I have a new virtual project: Bookaneering. We will be doing weekly reviews of bookshops in our areas - Chicago is where she is, and New Zealand is my beat. We will expand (geographically) when we move. Until then...

Saturday, July 04, 2009

4th of July

No fireworks.

Here, they are only purchasable in the two weeks leading up to Guy Fawkes Day.

Instead, drank a bunch of beer with sibling, friend and his siblings. Decided to fight in the bar. Formulated double– and triple–crosses. The sibling dynamic is fucking excellent. The best gift any man can receive is another brother.

Left that bar. The singer in the band was wearing blackface. Got meat pies. Almost–fight with some imbecile. Falling over in the street. Going to an Alice–in–Wonderland–themed bar. Teapots full of drinks, and a vague shred of common sense that informed me that I should not drink from them...

Thursday, July 02, 2009

California's burning!

You listening to the Clash's first album? Good. You'll need it. The California dream - the American dream, really - is imploding in on itself.

The situation is thus: The state government is buried in debt; most likely it won't be able to pay most of that debt. (Due largely to a structural inability to raise new taxes.) This year alone, it is facing a $24 billion gap between revenue and expenditures. Roll that around. $24 billion.

A Salon.com article explains the consequences:

The world's eighth-largest economy has just gone belly-up. When midnight tolled on Tuesday night with legislators and Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger still deadlocked over how to resolve the state's staggering $24 billion budget shortfall, California became unable to pay its bills. The state will have to begin issuing IOUs to its creditors as early as Thursday. It is the worst budget crisis in the state's modern history.

There is an unreal, almost dreamlike quality about this moment. Dreadful things are about to happen: Hundreds of thousands of children will lose their healthcare. Five thousand state workers will be laid off. Massive cuts will decimate education at every level. Social services will be slashed. Two hundred and twenty-nine parks, out of a total of 280, will be shut down. Even some of the state's landmarks may go on the auction block to raise money.


One of the state parks likely to be shuttered is Mount Diablo State Park, which I've run up and around for years. This hits close to home. These savage cuts - which will amount to the destruction of everything the California government does except for prisons, police, and roads - will lower standards of living for most people in the state.

And make no bones about it: This "black budget" will damage or ruin the prospects of most Californians. And it will do so largely due to a minority's refusal to raise taxes on the wealthy. This is class struggle in naked form. And they're winning.

The irony of this economic crisis is this: It was caused, in a general sense, by the excessive greed of a few, by growing inequality papered over by exploding debt. It was caused, in short, by ascendant capitalist class power. By rights, the people who benefited from the bubble should lose out in the crash. But that's not been the case - in general, the economic crisis has resulted in the consolidation of that same power, at the expense of the rest of society. (As David Harvey argues.)

The situation in California is one manifestation of that - the poor and middle class must suffer vicious cuts to healthcare and education, and the end of welfare. This at a time when California has an unemployment rate of 11.5%. But higher taxes for the wealth is a political impossibility. The likely result? A catastrophically raised poverty rate and severely reduced social mobility.

Much of the commentary about this refers back to California's "Golden Age" in the postwar era, when rising prosperity went along with expansion of education and government investment in infrastructure. As a Washington Post article notes:

The terrible irony in decimating the public sector to save the state is that the California that was the epicenter of the postwar American dream was fundamentally a creation of government. Fighting a Pacific war during World War II compelled the federal government to spend billions on California industry and infrastructure, and the state was the leading beneficiary of Pentagon dollars during the Cold War. As Kevin Starr, California's leading historian, points out in "Golden Dreams," his brilliant new history of the state in the 1950s and early '60s, fully 40 percent of all defense dollars for manufacturing and research in 1959 went to California, anchoring the state's booming economy in a well-paid workforce that was either unionized or professionalized, and seeding an electronics and high-tech sector that was to blossom in the following decades. Building on that prosperity to create more prosperity, Earl Warren, Goodwin Knight and Pat Brown -- two Republicans, one Democrat -- invested state dollars in schools, universities, freeways and aqueducts that were the best in the world. The Golden State was never more golden.


Of course, the time for that is long gone. Since the 1970s, California has been increasingly committed to imprisonment over education, funding social programmes and infrastructure with bonds rather than taxes, and scraping back social expenditure. And now, as the state government comes to a crisis that was born out of these short-sighted policies, it is ready to double-down on short-sightednes:

Today, its governor seems determined to turn that gold to dross. On Monday, the Democrats in the legislature passed a budget that included cuts of $11 billion, levied a tax on oil companies and tobacco, and raised auto registration fees by $15 per car to keep the state parks from closing. Schwarzenegger reiterated his refusal to raise any taxes or fees and said he would veto the budget.

From a model for far-sighted investments in the future, California has become a state that uninvests in the present and has no vision at all for the future. Proposition 13, enacted by state voters in 1978, effectively blocked its cities and counties from funding their own endeavors, and the Republican minority in the legislature, abetted by Schwarzenegger, has made it all but impossible to invest in the kind of projects that Warren, Knight and Brown undertook.


I don't have a great deal to add to these points. I've never particularly been a student of California history or politics. The state has been a touchstone for me most of my life - when I lived in Nigeria it almost seemed like a golden land - rather than an ongoing process. I recognized the geological dynamism, the plate tectonics that are still shaping the landscape, and missed the political rottenness. California almost struck me as cast out of history, a place that would basically continue on without serious crisis for a while.

It's no fun to have your illusions stripped away.

Perhaps the Clash isn't the best music for the moment. Perhaps we need to go to Cracker's album about loss, travel, and California, Greenland, which leads us into "a trip to California to see where those old days had gone". It takes us "from Point Arena to Stinson Beach /from Arcata to Bodega Bay" - many of which will be closed down this year - and shudders to a halt with a few plaintive wails:

Darling, we’re out of time—so pack up that old circus tent, even the animals know this is the end / Darling, we’re out of time / Our best days have come; our best days have gone / It’s already hard, let’s not make it harder / Darling, we’re out of time—so put on that dirty red lipstick...


Back to the Salon article one last time:

...California has time and again proven itself to be a national and global trendsetter. The least American of places, a piratical exception to East Coast gentility on the far end of the continent, it is also the most American of places, with its brilliant, selfish and wanton extremities mirroring the oldest and still-unresolved contradictions of the American spirit. As Kevin Starr, dean of California historians, writes in his superb 2003 book, "California: A History," California has "long since become one of the prisms through which the American people, for better or worse, could glimpse their future."


There are many things I love about California. There are the soon-to-be-shuttered wild spaces, totaling 13% of the state's land area, the long roads that seem to stretch off into the future, the sense of vibrancy and growth. On a social and cultural level, there is iconoclasm, dynamism, a ceaseless will to change and reinvent. It's been, for much of its history, a place of rebirth, second chances, and big dreams. It's heartbreaking to see such a great place fold in on itself.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Screw Michael Jackson

The worst part about celebrity deaths is that they tend to dominate our attention, to the exclusion of more important matters. So the Iran election turmoil gets pushed off the front page by a bleached man with no nose.

[Nothing much against Michael Jackson, who was more sick than monstrous. He was a bizarre human being; his bad childhood had rendered him unstable and his massive wealth and fame had insulated him from having to seek therapy. Look at the catalogs from this year's auction of his Neverland accoutrements. They describe a balloon, free-floating from reality.]

One death will even push another off the front page if it belonged to a more famous celebrity. Jackson bumps aside Farrah Fawcett. And that's to say nothing of the ordinary folks! Tiny items in an obituary page that is probably never viewed.

This is all a roundabout way of saying that I read this on Saturday: Giovanni Arrighi died last week.

The department of Sociology at SUNY-Binghamton was the centre for world systems studies in the 1980s and 1990s, though fading when I reached there. Giovanni Arrighi, along with Immanuel Wallerstein, Terence Hopkins, Dale Tomich, Caglar Keydar, others from the global North, and a host of intellectuals who came yearly to Binghamton from the global South, had built the graduate program, combining what may be called orthodox Marxist ideas with historical approaches to capitalism more familiar in Latin America, Africa, and Asia.

There was plenty of heated debate. How did the Atlantic slave trade fit into the development of world capitalism? What about formal colonialism, and countries of largely peasant-producers? Does national development have to emulate development in Western Europe in order to be called 'capitalism'?
...
[Arrighi] went on to pose larger questions about development and capitalism - "how is it that world wealth and power are concentrated in a handful of countries" - a question still relevant today. His major work, The Long Twentieth Century (1994), was the answer he offered, having worked on the question for some 15 years, primarily in Binghamton. The dedication in the book is worth noting, as it demonstrates the intimate relation Arrighi had to his intellectual inquiries:

'Between conceiving a book like this and actually writing it, there is a gulf that I would never have bridged were it not for the exceptional community of graduate students with whom I have been fortunate to work during my fifteen years at SUNY-Binghamton. Knowingly or unknowingly, the members of this community have provided me with most of the questions and many of the answers that constitute the substance of this work. Collectively, they are the giant on whose shoulders I have travelled. And to them the book is rightfully dedicated.'


Arrighi's most famous work, The Long Twentieth Century, has been sitting on my metaphorical bookshelf for two or three years at this point. I've read bits and pieces and references, and drawn on his ideas (especially that of transitions from one world-system to another through episodes of financial crisis, which seems pertinent these days). Last year I started in on it, got sidetracked, and had to return it to the library. Three weeks ago, I bought a copy from Moe's. It's got competition: Jameson, Foucault, Dostoyevsky, Judt, Keynes, Derrida, Lefebvre - but it's moving to the top.

In a recent interview with David Harvey, Arrighi spoke of the need for a new world-system, a "commonwealth of civilizations living on equal terms with each other, in a shared respect for the earth and its natural resources." Harvey asked if this could be described as socialism, to which Arrighi responded:

...unfortunately, socialism has been too much identified with state control of the economy. I never thought that was a good idea. I come from a country where the state is despised and in many ways distrusted. The identification of socialism with the state creates big problems. So, if this world-system was going to be called socialist, it would need to be redefined in terms of a mutual respect between humans and a collective respect for nature. But this may have to be organized through state-regulated market exchanges, so as to empower labour and disempower capital in Smithian fashion, rather than through state ownership and control of the means of production. The problem with the term socialism is that it’s been abused in many different ways, and therefore also discredited. If you ask me what would be a better term, I’ve no idea—I think we should look for one. You are very good at finding new expressions, so you should come up with some suggestions.


I tend to think of that last "you" in a broad sense, directed towards the reader rather than Arrighi's interlocutor.

Reflecting upon this point: One of the advantages/drawbacks of my education to date is that it's been long on whats and whys, and short on hows. I haven't exactly minded - I'm no pragmatist, and I prefer solid theoretical grounds to rushing off half-baked.

But I'm short on praxis. One of the benefits of my current job in an economic policy agency is that it's long on the whats and hows. In short, a theory of how the world works is no good if it can't be put into action. (It tends to be the case that theory gets lost entirely, but that's a story for another time.)

As a result of this, I've become more attentive to the "how" questions. It's one thing to be say that the world should be changed. (And it needs to be.) It's another to say what it should change into - let alone to pursue that. Filling out the idea of a better world is a task for our times.

And yes, I am aware of the difficulties involved in any agenda-based politics. Compromises - some fatal to the enterprise's principles - are inevitable. And there is a certain slippage from iconoclastic utopianism - the humanist kind, that affirms that a better world is possible without wrapping actual people around the proposed details - to blueprint utopianism - the kind espoused by Mao and Milton Friedman, in which the principles for a better world are run roughshod over human corpses.

Anyway, RIP Giovanni Arrighi. You should pick up something he's written - perhaps his last book, Adam Smith in Beijing, which discussed China's rise and the possible new world-systems that might result. And maybe think about the sort of world system you want.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Solace

Winter in Wellington; today is the shortest day of the year. I wake up when it’s dar, and return home after the sun has gone down. But things are getting better. The days get longer from here to December.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Work and irregularity

I have what is likely to be an increasingly unusual job. Not because the job itself is strange - although it has its odd points - or because the conditions of work - the hours, the length of contract, the pay - is irregular. Ironically, the regularity of the job will make it irregular.

When we discuss jobs, we are generally talking about this: A full-time, permanent job with regular hours, regular pay, and defined benefits. A job like this is entered into by contract between employer and employee. It's dependable and above-the-board.

It's also becoming much less common, especially for young people. If you're my age, you've probably seen this: "working" often means temporary jobs or internships, juggling several part-time jobs, or frequently swapping jobs (or being fired early). It often means relying on your parents' health coverage (or going without), not saving much (let alone paying into a pension fund or retirement account), and occasionally subsisting on debt. We often do this sort of thing in the expectation that we are "gaining experience" or "building our resumes" - but towards what? The unspoken assumption is that a regular job is waiting for those who get through this thicket of irregularity.

That may not be a realistic example for increasing numbers of us. Two examples from the periphery and the center:

In many Third World countries, an increasing proportion of the population works in the informal or grey economy, the irregular sector. They are beyond the reach of employment law, trade unions, and many social protections. Half to three-quarters of non-agricultural employment in developing countries is irregular. (See for some more details.) It's tenuous work, done in marginal conditions, and it doesn't pay well. Irregular jobs are associated with other legal irregularities - for example, squatting and slum dwelling. (More on that later.)

Japan spent the 1990s in the grips of a "slo-mo depression" caused by a property boom and debt expansion followed by a collapse and a decade of waffling about how to deal with effectively insolvent banks. (Sound familiar? According to Paul Krugman it may soon.) Before this, Japan had a model of employment for life - workers would ally themselves with a company, and in return it would provide them with stability even in retirement. That model broke in the 1990s, but mass layoffs still didn't follow. Instead, the older generations largely kept their jobs, and many young workers ended up effectively trapped within endless "temp" jobs - with little of the advancement possibility or stability of the old system.

If this model of work is to be the future - and I believe that it is - what will it mean for us? The day-to-day implications are probably fairly clear - after all, precarious situations are no good for people, even if they're window-dressed as "flexibility". (I owe this distinction to some Argentine friends, who commented that the "flexibilizacion" of their economy in the 1990s was more accurately called a "precarizacion") Beyond that, I think that it should force us to fundamentally reconsider two things: the legal framework of employment, and the means for pursuing greater equality.

First, equality. A few weeks back, I read The Spirit Level: Why more equal societies almost always do better, by Kate Pickett and Richard Wilkinson. It's a remarkable book - it collects and analyzes various health and social statistics from rich countries over a long period, and concludes that countries with higher inequality experience more crime, worse health, less social mobility, and less trust and social cohesion. More strikingly, inequality touches everybody in society, not just the poor.

The authors comment that if social conditions are making people unhappy, unwell, untrusting, and, frequently, untrustworthy, the solution is not "mass psychotherapy" designed to acclimatize the individual to those conditions. Instead, inequality should be reduced to make society more livable.

There are, of course, many policies that have led to low inequality. Some countries (and US states) have high levels of taxes and transfer payments; others have relatively equal pretax income due to more profit-sharing or stronger unions. The authors recommend one in particular: Greater employee participation in ownership and management of their business.

As state-run socialism failed in most respects, and the current version of capitalism resembles an abusive spouse - financial markets have periodic liquidity binges and crashes, then take it out on other people - a true "Third Way" is needed. As inequality increases over the last 3 decades have been tied (especially in the US) to stagnating hourly wages combined with upwardly spiraling pay for CEOs and top management, this would be a logical first step towards mitigating inequality. But it's not an unproblematic step.

Simply put, employee ownership-and-operation will only work on a grand scale if stable long-term employment is the norm. It can work locally, in special situations - co-ops are actually fairly widespread in the US, but you wouldn't know if from reading the financial press. But under such a scheme, what would happen to temp workers? Would they get a share of the business for the three months or a year they worked there? And if so, how would they transfer it upon leaving? (Selling company shares or trading them on open markets would presumably be disallowed, as that would tend to erode employee ownership.)

This seems to be the appropriate point to mention an advantage to flexible/precarious work: It makes the individual more mobile. If you've got a temp job, you can pick up and leave after a few months - and spend the money backpacking Europe or moving to the city of your dreams. You can swap jobs often, making it easy to get out of a bad one. (Of course, individual workers tend to have less power in such a workforce - they are battered by recessions and have little power to negotiate for wages.)

Employee ownership may not make sense under the common irregular working conditions. Furthermore, without an easy way to transfer ownership rights or retain them when moving between jobs, many people might experience it as a barrier to mobility. As a recommendation, it relies on an outdated idea of work that dates from what we might call the "Fordist" period from 1945 to the 1970s, in which capitalism relied on stable employment and consistent institutional settings. The world has changed since then, and capitalist enterprise now thrives on irregularity, eclectic production, and geographically and temporally fragmented value chains - what David Harvey calls "flexible accumulation".

Second, legality. French jurist Alain Supiot, the author of a 1999 report entitled Beyond Employment, echoed Pickett and Wilkinson's point above, noting that:

European institutions did not take up the simple idea [the report] embodied: that there is no wealth other than human beings, and that an economy which ill-treats them has no future. The new conceptual frameworks we outlined with regard to professional status or to ‘social drawing rights’ all flowed from this basic idea. But of course this ran directly counter to the credo that holds sway in Brussels, according to which the problem is not that of adapting the economy to the needs of human beings, but rather the reverse—adapting human beings to the needs of markets, and especially to the needs of financial markets, which supposedly create harmony by making self-interest the basis for all human activity. ["Possible Europes", NLR 57]


Supiot notes that existing legal structures - and derivatives of them such as the employee ownership model - increasingly fail to respond to social realities. Consider unemployment insurance and health care in the US - the rules were thought up in the "Fordist" period (and modified by the neoliberals, of course). You can collect unemployment for a limited period if you are fired without cause from a permanent, full-time job. But you're not eligible if a temp contract runs out and you can't find more work. No less jobless, of course, but you slip through the cracks. Similarly, healthcare is tied to certain types of permanent jobs.

Supiot advocates an overhaul of employment law designed to preserve the flexibility of the new system while not allowing individuals to go unprotected due to the irregularity of their work. The new system would be founded on the principles of " freedom versus flexibility, capability versus employability, labour-force membership status versus human capital."

In Beyond Employment our response was to propose that this new pact—unlike its predecessor—be founded on the freedom and responsibility of human beings, not on their subordination or their ‘programming’. We emphasized the idea of a ‘labour-force membership status’ which would allow people to exercise real freedom of choice throughout their lives: to move from one work situation to another and to reconcile their personal with their professional life. Approaching the question in these terms led to a fresh reading of the old concept of ‘juridical capacity’, expanded to include individual and collective capabilities.

... In one case, the starting point is human creativity, and there follows an attempt to construct a system of laws and an economy that will allow people to express themselves and satisfy their needs; in the other, the starting point is the supposed infallibility of the market, and the aim is to provide businesses with a human ‘resource’ that will respond to their needs. ["Possible Europes", NLR 57]


Accomplishing this will be partly a work of rebuilding old protections (e.g. minimum wages that keep pace with inflation, the 40-hour work-week) and partly of designing new ones. The process starts by expanding the definition of work beyond permanent, full-time employment with contractual benefits - to encompass the irregular and temporary. That in turn allows us to recognize that (in the US for example), we need healthcare that doesn't depend upon employment status, and some form of minimum income independent of our situation. More widely accessible education is also absolutely necessary.

It's difficult enough to do that in the rich countries, of course. In the OECD, we have abundant wealth, and grapple over its distribution. The Third World, by contrast, must allocate in conditions of poverty. As I alluded to earlier, the problems of irregular work are much more savage in the global South. And employment is central to a burgeoning social problem - slum growth. Cities are growing rapidly in the Third World - the biggest construction boom of the last decade may have been in shantytowns, not American exurbs.

In brief, we can think of slums in terms of irregularity: They happen when a large mass of people is displaced from its traditional means of subsistence and social networks in the country, and move to the city where they cannot find stable, well-paying work. They are comprised of (or comprise) an irregular space that does not conform to our expectations of a planned city. Materials and street plans are irregular. And they break traditional paradigms of war and insurgency, forcing invading armies into asymmetric or irregular battles. (Israel's army turned at one point to postmodern theory to try to come to terms with Palestine's subterranean mazes.) Irregular work, irregular space, irregular war.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Kick out the jams!

Tonight, I discovered three guys loudly playing the MC5 inside the gym of the local elementary school. Poked my head in to talk to them. It was awesome.

The bar refused to give us a giant Jenga set, so that was kind of a disappointment.