Beyond Collectivism and Individualism: Freedom from Fear

In his speech on April 13, 2011 on reducing the U.S. Government deficits, President Obama identified two strains that had run through the country’s political history and thus informed the American political culture. “More than citizens of any other country” he said, “we are rugged individualists, a self-reliant people with a healthy skepticism of too much government. But there has always been another thread running throughout our history – a belief that we are all connected; and that there are some things we can only do together, as a nation.  We believe, in the words of our first Republican president, Abraham Lincoln, that through government, we should do together what we cannot do as well for ourselves.”[1]  These two strains can be identified as individualism and collectivism, respectively. I contend that collectivism enables both individual and collective security. Individual security is oriented to a person’s survival and collective security is exemplified by national defense. 

In his speech, the president explicitly placed individual security within the collectivist strain. “Part of this American belief that we are all connected also expresses itself in a conviction that each one of us deserves some basic measure of security.  We recognize that no matter how responsibly we live our lives, hard times or bad luck, a crippling illness or a layoff, may strike any one of us.  ‘There but for the grace of God go I,’ we say to ourselves, and so we contribute to programs like Medicare and Social Security, which guarantee us health care and a measure of basic income after a lifetime of hard work; unemployment insurance, which protects us against unexpected job loss; and Medicaid, which provides care for millions of seniors in nursing homes, poor children, and those with disabilities.”  That is, limits to rugged individualism exist, whether in the state of nature or in an interdependent economy, and collectivized programs can bridge the gap on an individualized basis such that individuals can continue to enjoy liberty. The individualist/collectivist dichotomy is thus not so clearly dichotomist.

According to Obama, societal connectedness with others, something limited to the family or clan in the state of nature, implies the societal duty of individuals with economic surplus to contribute to the survival needs of other individuals, especially those who cannot fend for themselves. Individuals pay taxes and individuals receive sustenance benefits—the collectivism seems in actuality to mean systemic.

I have noticed that rich Europeans tend to acknowledge both that they too may someday be in need of such benefits, and that, under the principle of solidarity, a duty exists to pay higher taxes than otherwise so other people may survive rather than perish. As the American president pointed out in his speech, hard luck can befall each of us; no one is immune from calamity and ruin. Europeans seem to get this; American’s don’t.

Europeans also seem to recognize a basic psychological ease of mind exists in knowing that even in the worst-case scenario, a safety net exists. Even if a rich or middle-income American never needs to draw on Social Security and Medicare in retirement, whether due to age or disability/illness, the psychological security afforded by this recognition through life is surely worth something to the individual. Such a person (i.e., with economic surplus year to year) can justify on self-interest alone paying more in taxes to feel even this subtle peace-of-mind (i.e, individual security) through life. In other words, the narrow breed of self-interest (i.e., selfishness) that exists in American culture as a common trait among individuals is not even in the individual’s own interest. Such individualism is thus faulty.

I have not come across many rich Americans who recognize that they too may need such services (ignoring the stock market crashes of 1873, 1929 and others); such people thus view sustenance-oriented taxes as paying for lazy people to play or do drugs. Should such people therefore die? As disgusted as I am with the American inner-city “ghetto” mentality that potential employers justifiably eschew, I believe that to say people with such entrenched mentalities should therefore die for want of sustenance violates human rights, which are not conditional. Too many Americans may be guilty of an entrenched selfishness whose greed knows no bounds even at high levels of wealth. The selfishness that sees narrowly only that earning or amassing more wealth is possible at any level is utterly blind to the foundational peace of mind that comes with having confidence that a safety net even for oneself exists.

Together, callousness toward others less fortunate and selfishness concerning wealth are, I submit, just as ugly as a “fuck society, the rules don’t apply to me” ghetto mentality. A bad odor surrounds both even if some noses are immune to their own smell. In contrast, imagine a society in which the fear stemming from a recognition that survival itself is conditional even out of the state of nature, in “advanced” societies, is absent. The psychological effects even from the removal of such a subtle, subterranean fear, can be significant. My dad used to refer to “quality of life” as being an important attribute of reaching an old age. Yet the importance of obviating a sustenance-conditional fear in a person’s quality of life even when the quality is otherwise good tends to be missed by most Americans in their prime. The Titanic can’t sink!

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[1] Barak Obama, “Text of Obama Speech on Deficit,” The Wall Street Journal, April 13, 2011.

26 Billionaires = 3.8 Billion People

In 2018, 26 billionaires owned the same amount of wealth as the poorest 3.8 billion people, worldwide, according to a study by Oxfam, an anti-poverty non-profit organization. In 2017, the number of billionaires was 43, so the trajectory of wealth distribution was one of continued concentration.[1] Since the 2008 financial crisis, the number of billionaires doubled by 2019 whereas the poorest half of the world saw its wealth decline by 11 percent. The trajectory being clear, the questions can be said to be why? and  how will it turn out?  In this essay, I briefly attend to the first question by highlighting the intensifying contributions of enabling systems.

The Oxfam report points to enabling tax systems whereby the very rich along with corporations were paying lower taxes than they had in decades while 3.4 billion people were living on less than $5.5 a day. To say the tax regimes were unfair would be the conclusion of an ethical argument, whereas the report’s strongest point is simply that the structure of the regimes was contributing to the increasing disparity of global wealth. For example, the 2017 tax cut in the U.S. benefitted primarily the wealthiest 1 percent even though it was sold to the American people as a tax break for the middle class.

Accordingly, the monied interests, such as billionaires and large corporations, being able to manipulate voters via “their” representatives is another part of the answer. It could even be said that as governments—even democracies—become increasingly influenced by the wealthy, these de facto plutocracies also explain why the trajectory toward increasing economic inequality has occurred. In a plutocracy, the close legislative fights are between different corporate segments, which have spent roughly the same on campaign contributions and lobbying, whereas the no-contest battles are between a beguiled public and an industry or the business sector itself. Hence, the Obama Administration refused to prosecute those who engaged in fraud in the sub-prime mortgage business that came to a head in the financial crisis of 2008. Once sufficiently concentrated, wealth can manipulate and even rule even a de jure democratic government. So even though economic inequalities between people, such as effort at school and at work, can explain some economic inequality, the concentrating itself can take on a life of its own, with government-laid tracks to ease the way toward greater concentration. Perhaps the underlying mentality or value-system is that more is never enough, to invoke the film, Wall Street.

In short, there is human nature, which naturally develops social systems (including economic and political). The latter can gain a traction that can intensify the effects of human nature and individual differences between individuals. The part of the whole that is invested in those effects has the wherewithal and motivation to eclipse the good of the whole by distorting or manipulating the systems in ways that disproportionately benefit that part while the welfare of the other parts are not considered. Those other parts must put up with rigged, or tilted, systems as if the northern hemisphere in the winter season. Meanwhile, the part that benefits disproportionately from the tilt has no intent to use its power to redesign the system so that the Sun is directly above any part of the Earth for at least part of the year. Of course, the ice would melt so we would have that catastrophe to worry about, but where wealth is highly concentrated, the powers have little incentive to deal with rising oceans (and climate change) anyway because the 26 billionaires would have to pay disproportionately to fix the problem. The people without air-conditioning would suffer disproportionately should the wealthiest preempt governments from getting the money needed to obviate the problem. So the underlying culprits may not only be greed, but also a lack of consideration for others, Both can be stitched into political and economic systems, and even social systems whose values and norms are enabling.

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[1] Laura Paddison, “26 Billionaires Own the Same Wealth as the Poorest 3.8 Billion People,” The Huffington Post, January 20, 2019.

Questioning Universal Basic Income

The gist of basic income is that a government “distributes cash universally. As the logic runs, if everyone gets money—rich and poor, the employed and the jobless—it removes the stigma of traditional welfare schemes while ensuring sustenance for all.”[1] The “logic,” I submit, is flawed even if the basic idea is solid.

The notion of a basic income sprung from the desire to “reimagine capitalism to more justly distribute its gains.”[2] Justice here translates into the ideological belief that sustenance itself is a basic human right, and thus should be guaranteed to everyone. The obligation of government follows from this right. Interestingly, the laissez-faire economist, Milton Friedman, “embraced the idea of negative income taxes that put cash in the hands of the poorest people.”[3] But as the poorest may not fill out tax returns, cash payments by governments may more fully realize the objective of a basic income-floor (i.e., no one gets less than the floor-amount).

I submit that just as making sure that every adult has the basic, or floor, income, the notion of such a floor does not justify a government giving cash to everyone—rich or poor, employed or jobless. Adults whose income already exceeds the income-floor do not need additional income to get up to the floor, for such people are already above it. As for the stigma of welfare, which is very real in states like Arizona, the notion of a basic income can appeal to people whose income is above the floor, for they would be free of the anxiety of possibly falling through the cracks of a checkered social net should even a high income end amid continued high expenses. In the wake of the financial crisis of 2008, for instance, many people whose income exceeded a basic floor oriented to sustenance lost their homes when they went under water as real estate markets collapsed—especially in Florida and California.

Orienting the give-out of cash only to adults whose existing income is zero or otherwise below an established floor (i.e., a floor sufficient that sustenance can be achieved) would render such a program more fiscally stable. Whereas Stockton, California, began a test program in 2018 whereby 100 families would get only $500 a month—an amount clearly below sustenance—the requirement of a full-fledged program wherein only adults below the floor would get cash could more easily afford to set a floor that truly allows for substance.  Then nobody, rich or poor, would have to fear not being able to survive.

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1. Peter S. Goodman, “Inequality? California City Is First in U.S. to Try,” The New York Times, May 30, 2018.

2. Ibid.

3. Ibid.

The French Socialist Party’s Proposal of a Universal Income Amended: An Economic Floor Providing Economic Security to the Poor

Benoit Hamon, “riding to victory” from political obscurity on a proposal to “pay all adults a monthly basic income,” defeated the recent Prime Minister, Manuel Valls, in a presidential primary runoff election of the Socialist Party in the E.U. state of France.[1] Although “Hamon wasn’t as tainted as Valls by Hollande’s unpopularity” because Hamon had “rebelled and quit the government in 2014,” whereas Valls served more than two years as Hollande’s prime minister in the state legislature, Hamon’s “proposal for a 750 euros ($800) ‘universal income’ that would be gradually granted to all adults also proved a campaign masterstroke. It grabbed headlines and underpinned his surprise success in the primary’s two rounds of voting.”[2] I submit that the proposal, although flawed from the standpoint of economic security, fits well with the industrial world of global capitalism.

Under Hamon’s proposal, the no-strings-attached payments could be made to more than 50 million adults in the state. The “no-strings-attached” aspect is crucial to the provision of economic security, which is itself of significant psychological and financial value to people who are either unemployed or live from paycheck to paycheck. Put another way, the lack of conditionality can give such people a more stable peace of mind that could not but improve the quality of life generally in the daily life of a town or city in interpersonal dynamics. The temptation would be to begin to insist that the money be used for A, B, and C, but not on X, Y, and Z. Even such salubrious conditionality would undercut the stability afforded by the faith that the money would be come every month necessary—come hell or high water. I submit that Western peoples tend to discount the value of financial assurance or stability—essentially the provision of a floor or net that can be relied on—just in terms of the foregone anxiety alone.

The problem is that Hamon meant the payments to go to every adult, irrespective of income and wealth. A wealth person with a good income already has financial security, so adding a floor of 700 euros would be a waste of money from the standpoint of providing economic security. So the cost of the program, which Hamon reckoned to be at least 300 billion euros ($320 billion), can be reckoned as excessive, given the purpose of the program. In other words, taxpayers need not pay so much to make sure that every person has at least an adequate amount of economic security. Lest it be said that the middle- and upper- economic "classes" would then have little self-interest in supporting the proposal, I would simply point to value of the peace-of-mind in knowing that should financial ruin, such as from an economic recession (or depression), injury, or illness hit, economic security would be maintained. Simply knowing this can lighten the step of even a wealthy person, since none of us can say with complete certainty that tomorrow will be like today.


Given the destructive competition that is a part of life in advanced industrial states, the rationale for the claim that every person should be financially secure from hardship is valid. That Hamon proposed a tax on robots to help finance “the measure’s huge costs” points to his rationale for why a modern society cannot simply rely on jobs and even unemployment insurance to provide economic security.[3] Automation has permanently removed many manufacturing jobs, both in the E.U. and U.S. Additionally, the financial incentive of companies to move factories to low-wage, non-developed and newly-developed/industrialized countries like Mexico and China, respectively, means that employment in industrial countries can no longer be relied on to provide economic security to a significant segment of populations, for not everyone is going to go to law- or business-school and graduate—even if education were tuition-free.

Abstractly put, the logic of global capital is not in sync with the fact that in any society, a portion of the adult population is oriented to blue-collar rather than white-collar work. Even if the E.U. were to become a manufacturing utopia, some people, such as the disabled, would still lack economic security, and thus stability, were jobs the exclusive means of providing it. 

In short, the nearly “post” industrial world cannot simply become a world of lawyers, physicians, accountants, and business managers, whereas everyone needs food, shelter, and access to medical care. Providing even a very low floor would pay dividends for everyone as society would be a more civil place, and the cost need not be so much as would be needed to pay 700 euros to every adult, regardless of whether the security is needed. In fact, perhaps 1000 euros would then be an option. Life is too short to sweat the small stuff, yet some people must and their lives are painful for lack of financial security.

Financial worry is like an internal, perpetual war to the poor person, eviscerating life of its pleasure. Quality of life matters, and not just for the poor. How people you interact with are doing in terms of anxiety due to hardship—whether deserved or not—can easily ruin your day, whereas being around calm people can make your day. No man is an island, and in modern society economic interdependence has its drawbacks. Giving other people the psychological security of a financial floor each month can indeed pay dividends to the payers without the floor necessarily being raised so high that the beneficiaries can take advantage of the blessing of security made possible by others.

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1. Associated Press, “Hard-left Candidate wins French Socialists’ Presidential primary,” Foxnews.com. January 29, 2017.

2. Ibid.

3. Ibid.

The Wealth of 8 People and 3.6 Billion People: Utilitarianism Applied

As of the end of 2016, eight people held as much wealth as the 3.6 billion people who make up the world’s poorest half. Just a year earlier, a similar study had “found that the world’s richest 62 people had as much wealth as the bottom half of the population.”[1] Part of the difference in these findings is due to new data gathered by Credit Suisse. Put another way, the richest of the rich were richer than had been thought. In this essay, I want to call attention to the sheer magnitude of the wealth involved, as it pertains to the richest.
Forbes’ 2016 list of billionaires has Bill Gates, the founder of Microsoft, with a net worth of $75 billion, followed by Amancio Gaona, the founder of Inditex, at $67 billion. Warren Buffett came in third with $60.8 billion.[2] I could go on, but these three figures are sufficient to raise the question of how much is enough. By the calculus of greed, which is the love of gain itself—as in more and more ad infinitum—this question can only be extrinsic. In terms of use, however, the question is ripe, for there is indeed a limit to how much a person can realistically consume.
In terms of declining marginal utility, wherein a person does not get as much pleasure out of the fourth or fifth ice-cream cone in a row as from the first, it takes a lot more money added to $67 billion to trigger pleasure than to $100. Add $1,000 to $100 and you have made the guy’s day, but add $1,000 to $67 billion and you might get a yawn. Pareto claimed that no such interpersonal comparisons of pleasure can be made, but I think Bentham was correct in making this point. Whereas Pareto relies on the valid point that pleasure itself is not quantifiable, Jeremy Bentham (whose 18^th century mummified body absent his head sits in an open closet in a university-building’s hallway in London) stressed the declining marginal utility as it pertains to very different quantities of wealth.
Bentham, whose utilitarian ethics gives primacy to the greatest good (i.e., pleasure, which he viewed as happiness) for the greatest number of people. Distribution from the rich to the poor is in line with this ethic, given the fact that a poor person would get more pleasure, or utility, from $1000 than the pain of the rich man who is now without the $1000.

Even just the gigantic sums of accumulated wealth themselves, such as Warren Buffett’s $60.8 billion—holding aside the question of added utility/pleasure from adding more wealth to the base—are not efficient, so to speak, in terms of utility/pleasure. “In my entire lifetime,” Warren Buffett said, “everything that I’ve spent will be quite a bit less than 1 percent of everything I make. The other 99 percent plus will go to others because it has no utility to me. So it’s silly for me to not transfer that utility to people who can use it.”[3] Because other people could use the money to derive more pleasure/utility, there is indeed an opportunity cost in the rich holding such vast sums. In other words, the retention of billions of dollars does represent a harm in that people who could really use it are deprived of it.
Admittedly, Buffett’s invested funds have led to pleasure from added productive enterprise and even innovation. The assumption of added productive uses can be questioned, however, as presumably alternative means of raising capital exist. An enterprise strategically oriented to expanding could go to a bank, for example, were Buffett’s invested funds depleted by voluntary or involuntary redistribution. In fact, banks would presumably have more money to lend to the extent that people receiving the redistributed funds deposit some portion (even the added consumption would go to existing businesses, thus giving them more retained earnings to invest in expansion and innovation). Furthermore, Buffett could have redistributed some wealth to the poor in the form of stocks and bonds, which would give the poor more economic security given the dividends and bond payments are on a base of wealth. In general, such means of increasing productive enterprise and innovation would be more in line with the greatest good for the greatest number of people, given declining marginal utility.
To be sure, Bentham warns that if redistribution crosses a threshold, the rich will not be motivated to create more wealth by work or investing more funds. The total “pie” would thus decrease; other things equal, there would be less pleasure/utility all around. We humans react more to losing $1,000 than to gaining $1,000, Bentham points out. Additionally, a rich person may be emotionally agitated if he or she feels that the redistribution is unfair—even stealing. This is in spite of Buffett’s point that very little utility relative to billions of dollars accrues to a rich person. However, Buffett’s statement suggests that losing a lot of money to redistribution—admittedly voluntary in his case—need not trigger the pain of loss. Even considering such pain to exist and be material, it must surely be less than the pleasure on the other side of the redistribution, given declining marginal utility. In Buffett’s words, other people can get more use out of the funds, and this added pleasure (which was not in Buffett’s holding of the wealth) is more than any pain in losing the wealth (given the pleasure that Buffett would still have from even just 1 percent of his wealth!).
From another perspective, owning tens of billions of dollars can be deemed to be excessive in not being justified in terms of property-rights theory. I have in mind John Locke’s labor theory of wealth. A person gains a natural right of ownership by “mixing” his or her labor with the asset, such as land. If you till the ground and plant the corn, you have earned a property right, or exclusive claim, on that land and its corn. It would be unethical for other people to trespass and consume from the corn.
Applied to founders such as Gates, Gaona, and Buffett, the question is whether having wealth of tens of billions of dollars is proportioned to the labor (and even risk of loss) put into the respective foundings. This question pertains to executive compensation—are CEOs who are also founders paid inordinately because of their power and status in their respective organizations?—and to stock ownership—is there a public interest in limiting the amount of stock-value one person holds in a company?  The public interest, if one exists, would presumably borrow from the Bentham’s point that billions of poor people would get more pleasure, or utility, from the redistributed surpluses than all the pain (if any) inflicted on the richest of the rich from the loss of some of their stock-wealth. Given that only so much wealth can be consumed by any single person, there would presumably be more than enough wealth remaining such that the richest would not suffer.
In conclusion, sound theoretical reasons support the claim that the eight richest people in the world should not have as much wealth as 3.6 billion of the poorest. Just as it is difficult for the human mind to conceive of billions of people, the same applies to billions of monetary units. Accordingly, it is difficult to grasp the sheer vastness of the imbalance. From this basis alone, the inequality can be deemed problematic. As this point is itself in dispute—perhaps in part because some people simply hate government—I have not gone on to prescriptions on how the problem can or should be solved. In other words, just establishing that there is a problem is a task in need of theoretical justification and argumentation. My essay here is a flawed (e.g., too limited) attempt to fortify the position that the massive inequality of wealth is indeed a serious problem, ethically speaking. That is to say, the holding of such huge sums as I’ve cited above is not justified by the efforts expended to “get the ball rolling.”

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[1] Gerry Mullany, “World’s 8 Richest Have as Much Wealth as Bottom Half of Global Population,” The New York Times, January 16, 2017.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Jonathan Stempel, “Gates Charity to Sell 60 Million Berkshire Shares, as Buffett Urged,” Reuters, January 18, 2017.

A Business Surtax on Income Inequality: Target the Proceeds

The medium compensation in 2015 for the 200 highest-paid executives at publicly-held companies in the U.S. was $19.3 million; five years earlier, the figure was $9.6 million.[1] CEO pay compared with the earnings of average workers surged from a multiple of 20 in 1965 to almost 300 in 2013.[2] “Income inequality is real, it is a national problem and the federal government isn’t doing anything about it,” said Charlie Hales, the mayor of Portland, Oregon in 2016 when that city passed a surtax on companies whose CEO’s earn more than 100 times the medium pay of their rank-and-file workers.[3] According to the law, set to take effect in 2017, companies whose ratios are between 100 and 249 would pay an additional 10 percent in taxes; companies with higher ratios would face a 25 percent surtax on the city’s business-license tax. Whether the new law would make a dent in reversing the increasing income-inequality was less than clear.

The most direct route to reversing the trend of growing inequality would be to use the proceeds from the surtax to increase the average incomes of the poor. Cash assistance to city residents below the poverty line, for instance, or increased rent subsidies would qualify. Alternatively, the city council could pass and fund a minimal-income level for local residents. As still another option, the financial assistance could be meted out more specifically to workers in the companies subject to the surtax, or local companies more generally. Unfortunately, the proceeds were set to go into city’s general fund, only part of which increases the incomes of the poor. “City officials in Portland estimated that the new tax would generate $2.5 million to $3.5 million a year for the city’s general fund, which pays for basic public services such as housing and police and firefighter salaries.”[4] If rental assistance is included and expanded, then the inequality of effective income could be impacted locally, though adding more police and firefighters and perhaps even buying more police cars and firetrucks would not affect the ratio.

In short, for the surtax to address the matter of income inequality most directly, the use of the tax revenue would have to be targeted to increasing the effective incomes of the poor (and middle class). Simply increasing the city’s budget dilutes the impact substantially.

On the CEO-pay end, the assumption that the surtax would result in lower CEO compensation figures is also subject to critique. What a board offers a prospective CEO must contend with what that particular labor market will bear. Furthermore, it is not clear that even 25% of a local license tax is enough money to motivate a board to reduce top executive salaries. It is also not clear that $2.5 to $3.5 million would appreciably raise income levels in a city the size of Portland—Oregon’s largest city. Were the city to increase the tax to motivate companies to bring down CEO pay and/or make a dent in the incomes of the city’s poor, companies could simply move; they could even stay in Oregon.

To be sure, Portland’s mayor at the time admitted that the surtax is “an imperfect instrument” with which to tackle the momentous problem of increasing income-inequality in the U.S.[5] A better instrument would be at the State or federal level, with the proceeds going to fund a minimum income for all citizens. Lest such a “Robin Hood” approach be too stark, proceeds could be targeted more closely to the worker-CEO ratio by increasing the incomes or disposable incomes of workers.

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[1] Gretchen Morgenson, “Portland Adopts Surcharge on C.E.O. Pay in Move vs. Income Inequality,” The New York Times, December 7, 2016.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid.