Do you know that feeling, when some person or article says something with which you’ve agreed for years but hadn’t ever been able to properly articulate?
It’s one of the delusions of our meritocratic class, however, to assume that if our actions are individually blameless, then the sum of our actions will be good for society.
The Atlantic think-piece that this is from (The 9.9 Percent is the New American Aristocracy) is of course excessively long, but worth reading if you’re interested in that kind of thing, especially if you enjoyed my essay on Brexit, Trump, and Capital in the Twenty-First Century. While the Atlantic piece takes a rather different tack to get there, it ends up at roughly the same set of possible recommendations, and I think the underlying thesis is the same: there are a lot of not-directly-monetary ways in which the future prospects of the working class have suffered over the last few decades.
Money may be the measure of wealth, but it is far from the only form of it. Family, friends, social networks, personal health, culture, education, and even location are all ways of being rich, too. These nonfinancial forms of wealth, as it turns out, aren’t simply perks of membership in our aristocracy. They define us.
This was basically one of the theses of my essay, so maybe the Atlantic article doesn’t tack that far from it after all.
Originally, I focused on the value of unskilled labour as the primary change in recent generations. I still think this is generally true, but the Atlantic piece focuses elsewhere: on the walls that the upper classes are building around the other forms of capital. Education is a form of capital, but with the increasing class-segregation of top university admission processes it becomes less accessible to those at the bottom of the heap. Location is also a form of capital, but as the cost of living skyrockets in prime locations (most notable Silicon Valley) that too becomes inaccessible. It seems inconceivable today that a poor person from the slums of Detroit could fight their way into a good university, then afford to move to San Francisco in order to be able to work a decent job. But if we really want social mobility to be a feature of our economy then that’s the story we have to enable.
Finding A Solution
In 2016, I mentioned a basic income as one possible partial solution, with the caveat that it didn’t seem politically or economically feasible. Things have changed a lot in the last two years. From Finland, to California, to Ontario, a number of organizations and governments have started pilot projects of the idea. Perhaps more interestingly, in the current Ontario election, all three major parties have pledged to continue the experiment, effectively guaranteeing a path forward regardless the winner.
In addition to the political will that has sprung up recently, the economics suddenly seem more favourable as well. The cost of expanding Ontario’s experiment to the entirety of Canada has been pegged at only $43 billion, which is eminently affordable in the context of the many hundreds of billions of dollars that Canada already spends on various programs. And proponents are quick to point out that that number doesn’t even include the expected savings in health care, incarceration, and other government services which typically result from lifting people out of poverty.
The purpose of this essay wasn’t originally to sell people on the idea of a basic income, so I’ll leave it at that, but it does seem to me like an extremely promising approach. I’m looking forward to the results of some of the pilot projects, and in the mean time I’m going to do a bit more research and try to raise the profile of this idea.