Showing posts with label industrial revolution. Show all posts
Showing posts with label industrial revolution. Show all posts

Monday, December 19, 2016

King's Survey: Winds of Capitalism

800px-Mill_District_-_Pittsburgh
Mill District, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, 1940

In which we learn about different responses to climate change

Kids, there’s a strong wind blowing.
—Well, it is winter, after all.
—Winds don’t blow only in winter.
—You know he’s not talking literal winds, right?
—I learned a little about this back when I was in fifth grade. There are different kinds of wind. Westerly winds, trade winds, some others.
Yes, Ethan. But the wind I’m talking about is the wind of industrial capitalism.
—Oh, industrial capitalism! Of course. You know that’s actually my very favorite wind.
—What are some other kinds of wind that you like, Em?
—Oh, you know, the usual ones.
—Like what, Em? I mean, given that you’re the expert.
May I, Em?
—Please do, Mr. K.
I think what Emily is trying to say is that capitalism—an economic system based on private ownership of property and production—has been around for a long time, and existed in different forms. In the colonial era and early republic, we had what is sometimes called mercantile capitalism: a form of capitalism based on largely hand-made goods and commodities. With the coming of the industrial revolution, the essence of which is mass-manufacturing by machines in factories, we entered the age of industrial capitalism, which is the topic at hand. That process began before the Civil War but really intensified after it. In the twentieth century we saw the rise of consumer capitalism, a shift in focus from the production side to the consumption side as the real engine of the \the economy. Here in the 21st century, people speak of financial capitalism, one in which the role of banks and speculation is central. Mercantile, industrial, consumer, mercantile: you can think of them as the north, south, east and west winds of capitalism.
—Exactly. I couldn’t have said it better myself.
Thank you, Emily.
—God, Em, you are shameless.
—Thank you, Sadie.
As I was saying, there’s a strong wind blowing. The thing about the wind is that you can’t see the air itself, even as you see and feel its effects. Those effects are clear, and they’re global. All over the world (though at this point mostly in Europe and the United States), factories are springing up. Cities are growing. People are leaving farms and heading to those cities and factories. Old jobs and ways of life are disappearing; new ones are rising to the fore. The speed and power of this wind is especially apparent in the United States, particularly in cities like Chicago. Huge buildings are going up. Transportation systems are sprawling. People are flocking in from all over the world, because a voracious demand for labor is bringing immigrants to the nation’s cities. There’s a crush from all the crowding, all the jostling.
—Is that a good thing? I can’t quite tell from the way you’re talking.
Is the weather a good thing, Kylie?
—Well, sometimes. Sometimes the weather is nice. Sometimes it rains or storms.
—But the weather is the weather. It’s not really something we have any control over. It’s not really good or bad. It just is.
That’s right, Jonah. Of course, our notion of whether the weather is good or bad may be depend a little on our perspective. Most of us like sunshine, most of the time. Most of us don’t like rain. But if there’s been a drought, we may welcome the rain. Sunshine may bring with it heat and humidity. That kind of thing.
Let me take this idea a step further. Our perspective on the wind may be a matter of what the weather has been like lately. But more often than not, it’s a matter of where we happen to be standing when the weather breaks out, so to speak. If you’re Chris here, and the wind powers your literal or figurative sails, you may be very happy that a strong breeze (which is what you might call it) is blowing. If you’re Brianna, working out in a field, the wind may chill you to the bone. If you’re Paolo, relatively secluded from the wind thanks to a house in the valley, it may not matter to you one way or the other. Of course, there’s always the chance that if the wind gets strong enough it will blow his house down. But that’s unlikely, and a lot of other houses are likely to get blown away before his is. And he might have insurance in any case. Which is to say that Paolo can’t control the weather. But he might be able to limit its effects.
And that’s something that Jonquil here sees quite clearly. She sees how Chris is doing, and how Paolo is doing. And how Brianna is doing, too. And she asks, “What can I do to protect myself from the wind?” She may go a step further and ask, “What can I do protect us—me and Brianna, but also others for whom the wind has had a deeply chilling effect?” And so it is that she organizes people to respond to the weather. Her efforts may involve getting Brianna to change the way she works. But it’s also likely to involve trying to get Chris to change, and maybe even Paolo, too. Which might be a tricky proposition.
—Don’t mess with Paolo man. He’ll bite your head off.
Exactly. Then again, Chris, Paolo might not be as bad a guy as you might think. Or maybe Paolo will find it in his interest to help Brianna in ways that might not be obvious at first.
—Wouldn’t hold my breath on that.
Maybe not. Maybe that won’t matter, because Jonquil’s crowd may be able to exert enough pressure on Paolo to change whether he wants to or not.
There’s one other thing to remember: whether or not Paolo, or Jonquil, or anyone else responds or doesn’t respond to that wind, it’s important to keep in mind that the wind itself isn’t static. It shifts, in ways that are hard to predict. Maybe it dies down; maybe it intensifies. People can take advantage of the weather (or not), but they can’t control the weather. Sometimes it may seem that way for a while, and sometimes like-minded people who inhabit a similar position on the landscape can benefit over time more than others. Weather lasts forever. But the weather, so do speak, doesn’t.
So what’s my larger point here, kids?
—Always take a jacket.
—Protest climate change.
—Buy a house in a valley.
Um, can we think a little less literally?
—Well, yes, Mr. K., but that’s less fun. Besides, it’s enjoyable sometimes to frustrate your cute little analogies.
Guilty as charged, Em. But would you mind telling me what the analogy here actually is? What the wind is analogy for?
—You said it yourself. Capitalism.
Yes. Right. I guess what I really mean is who Chris, and Brianna and Jonquil are in the analogy.
—They’re the people who are dealing. Chris is like a factory owner. Brianna is like a worker. Jonquil is like one of the people who try to organize the workers, what do you call that—a union.
Couldn’t have said it better myself.

Monday, October 31, 2016

King's Survey: Fittings

In which we see pressing political questions emerge from the business of making shoes

Woman_distributing_work_in_a_shoe_factory,_Lynn,_Mass
Woman shoe worker, Lynn, Massachusetts

Good morning, Brianna.
—Morning.
Brianna, you are the proud owner of the Yankee Shoe Company in Manchester, New Hampshire.
—Am I.
You are. And I must say, I really admire what you’ve accomplished. You started out 25 years ago as journeyman shoemaker in the nearby town of Derry, moved to this mill city to start your own company fifteen years ago, and here we are in the 1830s with you running a prosperous business employing dozens of people, most of them women. I’m very impressed.
—It’s nothing. Really.
You’re too modest.
—You said she’s employing women. Was that unusual?
Not at all, Sadie. Brianna is like a lot of manufacturers here in New England. It’s a wonderful system, really. She employs young women before they get married and start families. They learn the value of work, and the value of thrift. Essential values, don’t you agree? The parents of her charges are thrilled with her. Now, some of Brianna’s competitors are beginning to change their labor practicesI regret to report that they’re bringing in men who I’m sorry to say are not of entirely of good reputebut I believe Brianna has far too much integrity to ever indulge in such shenanigans. Am I right, Brianna?
—If you say so.
You’re a visionary, Brianna, and not just in your labor practices. You’ve also got some fairly sophisticated ideas about trade. Which is why you’re so devoted to Henry Clay, correct?
—You took the words right of my mouth.
So glad we’re on the same wavelength. Yes, Ethan.
—Remind us again what it means to be a Clay fan.
Funny you should ask. Clay is a great believer in people like Brianna: he believes she represents the future of the American economy. As we’ve discussed in this class, the United States declared its political independence from Britain in 1776, but in the half-century since it’s remained an economic colony, in large measure because it depends on Britain for manufactured goods. Like shoes. Clay wants to strengthen American manufacturing. The best way to do that is by imposing tariffs, or taxes, on foreign goods. This will make them more expensive, and thus less attractive, to consumers.
Let me explain how this works. Brianna here makes a pretty good shoe. She sells them for a dollar a pair. But let’s face it: she’s no competition for shoes from Milan. Those Italians have been making shoes for centuries. They’re goodand because they know what they’re doing, they’re cheap. They also cost a dollar a pair. So what Clay wants is to slap a fifty-cent tariff on the Italian shoes. So they’ll cost $1.50, while Yankee Shoe Company shoes cost a buck: 50% less. So what shoes are you going to buy, Ethan?
—Probably the Yankee shoes. If they’re any good.
Getting better all the time. And you, Jonah?
—Sure. I’ll buy the Yankee shoes.
—I’m not sure I like this.
Oh, Em. What’s not to like?
—Why should I have to pay more?
I don’t understand.
—Oh c’mon, Mr. K., or Mr. Clay, or whoever you are today. Why shouldn’t I be able to buy the good shoes at the low price? I mean, I love you Brianna, but why should pay more for goes that aren’t as good?
—I love you too, Em. Ciao, baby.
No one is saying you can’t buy the shoes, Em. And when
—That’s not the point and you know it.
And when you, and other style mavens out there like Adam
Style maven? What the hell is a style maven?
—It means sexy hot model, Adam. That’s you all over.
—That means so much coming from you, Chris.
As I was saying, when Emily or anyone else who loves those Italian shoes goes ahead and buys them (hey: it’s a free country), the revenue from the tariff will go toward paying for roads and other kinds of national infrastructure that will create a rising tide that lifts all boats. As far as I can tell, no one could be happier about that than Jonquil.
—Oh sure. You can see it all over her face.
Now, now, Adam. Jonquil is one of those sturdy, stolid Missouri cattle farmers. She provides the leather that goes to make Brianna’s shoes. The better Brianna does, the better Jonquil does. And as Brianna’s shoes get even better, even Emily will buy them. And her dollars will stay home.
—That's me. A cattle farmer. 
—Yeah, well, until that day when Brianna's shoes are good comes I still don't see why I should have to, what’s the word I’m looking for …
I think it’s “subsidize.”
Subsidize the American shoe business.
I guess that makes you a Jackson man.
—A Jackson man?
I’m sorry: A Jackson supporter.
—Oh yeah?
Yeah. And here I was thinking you’re an Adams … supporter.
—You know, Mr. K., you never really did get into Jackson’s political beliefs.
No, Sadie. I didn’t. But I will right now. Essentially, Jackson was a Jeffersonian small government man.
—But you said Jefferson hated him.
More like feared him: feared the way ignored the rule of law, and feared the popularity he seemed to have because of it. But there was an underlying continuity there. And it’s important to understand that it’s not simply the small-government thing: that was the means to an end. The end was championing the cause of the little guy (and I guess I do mean guy in this context). When Henry Clay looks at Brianna of the Yankee Shoe Company, he sees a story of upward mobility that’s honorable and worth encouraging. When Jackson looks at Brianna of the Yankee Shoe Company, he sees an oppressor in the making: someone who’s getting an unfair advantage with the tariff that will put her even farther ahead than she already is.
—When you put it that way, I guess he has a point.
So you are a Jacksonian, Em?
—I’m not sure.
Why not?
—Because I don’t feel like I know enough.
You want to know more?
—Desperately, Mr. K. I’m dying to know more about Andrew Jackson.
Oh, well, in that case, you can wait till tomorrow.
—And if I was being sarcastic?
Then you can still wait until tomorrow.
—Glad we sorted out my options.
Next: Breaking Clay