I took a couple of days to attend Conscious Capitalism 2013 in San Francisco, CA. I was very excited to go. I'm not excited any more.
Why I Attended
I believe that in the course of trying to be responsible for my actions in life, the fact that some of those actions are wrapped up in an entity called a corporation doesn't make them any less mine. So as an employee, a director/officer, and a shareholder, I want to do my best to live ethically, for some definition of that word. In addition to that specific purpose, I am just generally interested in the extent to which business as a whole impacts lives. I believe it can be a force for good, but also that it can amplify harm. So as a person in this big collective we call society, I want to make sure I'm also being a decent chap. Finally, as the CEO of Verilab, I wield a bit more power than the average person in terms of directing its force, good or bad, so I want to make sure I'm discharging my responsibilities well in that respect too. The Conscious Capitalism conference seemed to present an opportunity to mix with people wondering about the same things, and in particular to learn about possible answers to what I consider are some very tough challenges.
What I Expected
When large groups of people behave in particular ways, it's usually not an easy thing to change them. And since some of the potential harms from business arise from the behaviours of large groups of people, I don't expect an ethical approach to business to necessarily be an easy thing to figure out. In other words, if there are problems to be solved, they're probably not going to succumb to simple answers (otherwise we'd have solved them by now). Here are just some examples of specific challenges to which I think the answers are probably non-trivial, and which I find myself pondering often:
Tension at the heart of capitalism itself
For me, the essence of capitalism is, in simple terms, as follows:
- There is a person who owns a particular piece of property known as "the means of production". This person is the Capitalist
- There is a (usually) different person who will operate that means of production to produce a certain amount of wealth. This person is the Worker
- The Capitalist pays the Worker an amount -- a "wage" -- for their efforts, that wage almost always being less than the wealth the Worker produced
- The remainder of the wealth, after the Worker is paid their wage, is called profit and it is kept by the Capitalist
- CRUCIALLY: The Capitalist gets to keep that profit even if, as is extremely common, they are "absent" -- i.e. even if they did not participate, with the Worker, in operating the means of production to produce the wealth
Now there's nothing new in the above. It's a mere statement of fact -- not a value judgement. What interests me is two things. First, the above arrangement often appears to be immensely effective in enabling the creation of large amounts of wealth, benefitting both the Capitalist and the Worker. But, second, it is often equally effective in creating a deep and often divisive tension between the two parties, especially when the Capitalist is merely an owner; i.e. when he does no work himself and is "absent". I'm absolutely not arguing that the division is wrong (nor that it's not) but it seems clear that the tension exists. Why? Is it significant? Is it cruel oppression of honest workers by thieving fat cats? Is it sheer envy on the part of lazy workers, in the face of brave risk-taking and thoughtful planning by entrepreneurs? I find neither the Marxist view (collective ownership of the means of production), nor the Hayek, for example, position (that the Marxist view is a "fatal conceit") completely satisfying. But I also find it difficult to find a middle ground I consider safe. But since the conference was called not "Conscious Business" nor "Conscious Commerce" but "Conscious Capitalism", I hoped to hear this matter raised. In fact, surely it's one of the very first things to be raised?
Ideas as that "means of production" -- Intellectual "Property"
I have serious reservations about applying a theory of property to ideas and their expression. Property is an abstract concept designed by humans to extend the notion of "harm" beyond the person to those material entities with which the person mixes their labour. We say I "own" a thing partly in recognition of the fact that if you take it from me, I no longer have it. That simply doesn't apply to ideas. That is not to say that ideas needn't be protected, but if they are, it's for a slightly different reason for the one we use to justify protecting material objects. So while I am not convinced that notions such as copyright and patents are anything other than pure thuggery, neither am I convinced of the opposite position. I believe strongly that even if ideas should be treated in some way like property, that does not make them property. For example, maybe it's OK that when we "buy" a Kindle book from Amazon, we accept that we do not "own" the book we buy. But in that case, neither does Amazon nor anyone else. "Owning" is too strong a word for whatever it is that is going on. The very notions of copyright and patents are built on that notion -- that ideas are simply not "ownable" the way material things are -- even though many today appear to be forgetting it. Nevertheless, it is a conundrum. Are patents all bad? Are they all good? I don't know, so I'd like to hear thoughtful debate around the issue.
What if the means of production is stolen property
Ethical business is built on free exchange. And at its purest, that doesn't necessarily exclude what many may consider "unfair" exchange. Suppose there is a limited number of jobs, thereby allowing employers to depress wages being offered. Is that OK? Well it depends, and a key consideration must be in whatever is the reason the number of jobs is limited. Suppose my ancestors came to an apparently virgin land and claimed it as their own. Suppose they dealt severely with a few indigenous people living there at the time. Fast forward some generations, and the initial act of suppression has been forgotten, and the new land ownership has been ensconced in law. Suppose the law is even supported by democratic means, arising from an electorate of the descendants not only of the oppressing settlers, but also of the abused aboriginal people. And suppose land ownership is the fundamental underpinning of jobs. Is that a tolerable situation? If I, as a modern descendent of the oppressors, have wealth gained even in part from the oppression of the aboriginals, am I in receipt of stolen property? Then, step out of theory into practice. I have to ask myself, today in Austin, Texas, or Munich, Germany, or Ottawa, Ontario, and so on: to what extent is any of my own wealth the result of such a scenario? All I conclude is, I don't know, but I doubt the answer is "none". I fear it may even be substantial. Does any of that make sense? Is any of it material? Should any of it have a bearing on how I live my life today? I don't know. I'd like to hear thoughtful debate on this too.
On "enough"
Suppose my ancestors landed on their virgin island, this time with no troublesome natives to have to kill. They planted their flag, and claimed it as their own. Fast forward many generations and we realize that the flag was planted not on a piece of land of just the right size to sustain my family and me, but on a corner of the entire North and South American land mass (or Eurasian, or Australasian if you prefer). Is my claim today to "own" the whole thing a valid claim? Is it a problem in modern capitalism that there is no limit on an individual's property; that there is no inbuilt notion of "enough"? I don't know. And reasonable minds may differ. I'd like to hear them. Surely any conference on Conscious Capitalism should at least show awareness of the question?
Are we locusts?
When I buy from Amazon (say), thereby triggering some warehouse dwellers on minimum wage to race through caverns of boxes to find my book or widget, am I causing a problem by demanding too low a price? Should I work to pay more, even if it means I get to buy fewer things? Am I in danger of being one of millions of human locusts, destroying the ground on which I feed? This is a very hard question. Hayek argues that we face an "extended order" about which it is almost impossible to reason. If I decide to buy only from a local bookstore (say), so as to pay my bookseller a "decent wage", am I inadvertently laying off three warehouse dwellers? Is that acceptable given that those warehouse dwellers were being paid, by world standards, a fairly hefty amount? I don't know. But smarter people than I have surely considered it, and I'd like to hear their thoughts.
There are other questions in the same vein, but I hope those give you a flavour as to my expectations of the conference. And so, were those met?
What I Got
The conference delivered almost nothing on the above. In fact, it didn't even seem to understand the difference between "capitalism" and "business". And even to the extent those things overlap and were addressed, it was almost completely superficial and even inane. Most of the presentations were self-congratulatory platitudes about how business can be "done on a hug and a handshake", or how "as long as we all know the words to the song we can work together". Having fun at work and following one's passion were spoken of often, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with those things in my book. But Conscious Capitalism? The best exception to the flood of mutual appreciation was perhaps the presentation from Patagonia's CEO. He started off badly for me by musing about consciousness being "a field", but remembering that not only were we in California but in San Francisco, and that this was't a conference on the mind-body problem, I made allowances. He then went on to describe the difficulties and efforts being expended in trying to ensure that Patagonia's clothing was made "ethically". It's not enough for them, for example, that they pay their own foreign workers a "decent" wage. They also work to try to ensure that local suppliers to those workers (e.g. dye suppliers) are also treated reasonably. Hard problems -- every stone turned over revealed even more to investigate he said -- but being tackled nevertheless. That was good stuff, but it was pretty much the only good stuff. So, the conference overall? A huge disappointment.
Look, I don't know if any of the items I've mentioned above, or any of the others I muse on, are actually problems worth pondering. Maybe they're just the angst of a little rich boy in his big air-conditioned house. As Albert Camus said, "One can, with no romanticism, feel nostalgic for lost poverty... Whoever notices this in himself feels gratitude and, consequently, a guilty conscience". And even if they are real issues, maybe they are just intractable. Maybe it's as a Jewish carpenter once said, that there will always be poor people. But how will we know if we don't think hard about them? And to my mind, group hugs, and some organic granola don't constitute hard thinking.
