The Super-Rich Are More Rich than They Need to Be

Society is degenerating, partly because people who could be accumulating wealth if given the opportunity do not have the opportunity. This is because money is being syphoned to the super-rich, instead of growing among the poor and middle-class. The very wealthy accumulate wealth without regard for the greater good of the economy, which is becoming more and more suitable for small businesspeople.

However, part of the problem is the attitude of the poor and middle-class. Throughout my life, I've observed the attitude of others with regards to changing the world. With rare exception, everyone I've come across simply has no wish to change the world. I don't know if this is because public school beats it out of them, or if it is because of a hereditary attitude that has been promulgating itself since the time when people would be hanged, crucified, or burned for trying to change the world, or perhaps if it is just a personal lack of conviction in their own ideas. Whatever it is, I think it is a problem. Part of the reason the rich can get away with accumulating wealth that should've been ours is because 99% of people are at a loss for what to do with extra wealth when they get it. Maybe a new home theater system. A Winnebago. A trip to the Bahamas. Start a business? Make a film? No, no. That is for people who want to change the world.

The super-rich are going to become more meaningless over time, because our cultural consciousness and economy are becoming decentralized, making centralized wealth less important. But what will replace our major corporations if nobody wants to change the world? They will be replaced with a bunch of mindless sheep begging to be invaded by people with the chutzpah to actually do things. I hear complaints about how Americans aren't accumulating wealth like they used to. I complain about that, because I tend to get stuck in the economic doldrums spending all the money I get on rent and utilities. But I complain about it because I actually have ambitions to change the world, which cannot be realized without extra wealth. Unfortunately, I'm a minority. Most people could care less about accumulating extra wealth, because they are more concerned with living comfortably and quietly smothering themselves with their own down pillows.

I don't care if you want to be a follower rather than a leader. We need followers just as much as we need leaders. All I ask is that if you are going to be a follower, at least try to follow people who are changing the world, rather than just paying a salary. Follow people who challenge you. Follow people who reward enterprise and good decisions. Follow people with a conscience, and with vision. To survive, society needs to constantly change. And it won't change unless we change it. People who refuse to change the world, even if they're not natural leaders, aren't doing anyone any favors.

The Super-Rich Aren't as Rich as They Used to Be

I realize that is a contentious claim, and many would argue it runs directly contrary to the facts. After all, according to The New York Times, the top tenth of one percent income bracket in the United States saw their wealth increase by 21.5 percent, while the bottom 99 percent saw their incomes rise by just $80. However, just because you have a lot of money doesn't mean you're very rich.

Consider the phenomenon of people winning the lottery and ending up poorer than they were before they won. These people have a lot of money, but they don't have a lot of capital. Capital is defined as holdings which produce income. But when you win the lottery, you don't have any holdings which produce any income, despite a sudden spike in income. The income, then, becomes quite worthless. I would argue something similar is happening to the super-rich.

The economy has been growing at an average of about five percent since 1984. But the structure of the U.S. economy is vastly different than in the latter half of the 20th century. The United States between 1945 and 1991 was a country defined by its mass-mobilization against an easily defined external enemy: the Soviet Union. The consciousness of the people of the United States was unified by the threat of nuclear war, and there were ways to speak to that consciousness. People wanted to define themselves with the "us" rather than with the "them," so they did particularly American things. But people aren't doing these things anymore. That is what, I believe, is suggested by the fact of the decentralization of our economy, a fact which is supported by evidence.

It has been becoming increasingly easy to buy small, local products rather than large, mass-marketed products in our economy. And according to marketers, it is no longer relevant to try to mass-market products. What this points to is a decentralization of the economy, and we do not know whether it is reversible. It certainly doesn't feel reversible. Unfortunately for the super-rich, the most obvious effect of a decentralized economy is that massive centralization of wealth becomes less financially relevant, and suddenly, the super-rich feel more like the person who suddenly won the lottery rather than leaders of the economy.

Think about it. Our economy could grow at 20 percent a year, but if the super-rich can't find places to invest their money, it won't benefit them. And as markets become increasingly segmented rather than unified, it becomes harder and harder for a guy sitting in a penthouse in New York City to find the real money-makers in the economy. Granted, our economy is hardly so massively decentralized now that it is impossible to make money simply by having money. But in the future, it may be more and more difficult to do so. That, certainly, is the trend. And when you look at it this way, the tax cuts for the super-rich and economic policies favoring greater income inequality suddenly make a lot of sense. Certain members of the super-rich, I think, are probably sensing that they are becoming a dying breed, because their massive financial holdings are going to quickly lose relevance as the 21st century progresses and the economy further destabilizes.

The solution, I think, is for the super-rich to stop frantically grasping at more and more money, and rather, embrace their roles as leaders of the economy. They should restructure their holdings to favor local enterprises in localities they care about. This would help them maintain financial relevance in our economy. The fact of the matter is, the mere fact of being super-rich is becoming less and less a guarantee of income. This is because major corporations are becoming less and less relevant as economies become more and more localized. Americans no longer crave the unity they used to feel in the fifties knowing they were all watching the same television screen, so that feeling no longer is going to capitalize your assets.

Our Culture: Investing in Money

I believe there is such a thing as a perfect economy. This would be an economy running smoothly enough to be incapable of further growth, and not inclined to diminish.

A perfect economy implies that there be full market share of all businesses, especially banks. Banks are particularly important, because they fund new ideas (represented by entrepreneurs), and a full market share in this area implies no new ideas are currently available.

Full market share for businesses also means that business operations are sustainable. This means, among other things, that profits come from robust, sustainable growth. By robust, here, I mean that profits come from genuine market share, and not from, for instance, slashing costs and burning through third-world labor. Such cost-cutting techniques do not produce robust nor sustainable profits. Robust growth comes from opening new markets and increasing shares in old markets.

Now what I'm saying basically rests on what I consider to be a robust assumption: that it is possible to gain a maximum market share. I think not only that this is possible, but also that a lot of companies have already achieved this given today's economy.

Another implication has to do with the value of money. Money, itself being a commodity, also has a maximum share of market. It also must be managed in sustainable ways promoting robust growth. This sustainable growth responsibility lies with all of us, from ordinary consumers to Exxon-Mobil.But this is not to say that we need to be overly concerned with income inequality. Barking about income inequality is largely barking up the wrong tree, because the nature of new ideas is that they tend to concentrate wealth for their creators. However, if income inequality is produced by burning through labor resources by exploiting the poor, your wealth is not robust. I can handle inequality, provided the poor are not exploited. Inequality must be based on the production of new, valuable ideas.

Now all this is not to say that infinite growth is impossible, or that society must be stratified between rich and poor. On the contrary, infinite growth is definitely possible, but it must be robust, and rooted in such things as the continued evolution of the human mind and body, not in exciting, new opportunities, of which there are probably a finite number at any given moment. As for stratification, there will always be motion in markets, which implies liquidity in assets, including human ones. And anyway, I think we owe it to ourselves as human beings to offer the opportunity to all of us to live either simply or complexly, as we choose.

The Value of Bitcoin

I've seen it said one or two places that the value of bitcoin is in its anonymity, or its lack of corruption due to the lack of centralized banking. I don't believe this to be the case. Dollar transactions can be anonymous, too, and gold has no central bank, but the value of bitcoin is different than the value of gold or dollars. I think the value of bitcoin has to do with the nature of the tangible thing which is coined.

Dollars are pieces of paper with art printed on it. The art is printed in such a way that it is difficult to forge. The value of the dollar is enforced by the United States government, and the open market. It can go up or down, depending on the quality of things bought with it. When a thing is put into circulation in the open market, the value of the dollar is affected by the amount people are willing to pay for the thing. If the thing contributes to the value of the economy, then the value of the dollar goes up.

The value of the dollar bill itself that you carry in your pocket depends on its availability for use in transactions. This depends on the armored vehicles, bank vaults, printing centers, and so forth which manage and create dollar bills. As a physical thing, it is very difficult to create and very difficult to transport when compared to bitcoins. Bitcoins are easy to create and to transport. But they are comparatively more difficult to transfer. It is more difficult to pull a bitcoin out of your wallet and hand it to someone else than it is to pull a dollar out of your pocket and hand it to someone else.

The overhead of transportation and creation of bitcoins is very low, while the overhead of transferrence is very high. This indicates a couple things for the value of bitcoins. For one, complex, long-distance infrastructure of transactions are easy to maintain, provided the "buy it now" attitude is not too highly stressed. I believe this means that bitcoins are good for small, independent businesses that deal primarily in quality of service and quality of product, while dollars are good for more simple, standardized businesses like franchises that deal in immediate products where the quality and service doesn't carry too high a premium. Dollars are good where things remain the same, as with MacDonalds. Bitcoins are good for where things are different, as with Main St. Pawn.

What is needed currently for the value of bitcoin to be optimized, I think, is a decentralized banking infrastructure. This banking infrastructure would provide backing for the businesses that choose to use the bitcoin, so that they are all benefitted by the growth of the bitcoin economy. What I'm talking about is a radically decentralized system of investment banking that anyone can use but that promotes wise investment. Something that connects investors in a way that does not require a "stock market" or any other kind of limiting institution which tries to rule out companies to invest in. This would have to simultaneously fulfill the needs of an investment community of small, diverse businesses, and also prevent "boom/bust" cycles in the bitcoin economy. If such a system were developed, bitcoin would be a great boon to the artisans and small business owners that make up the middle class.

A Few Thoughts on Bitcoin

Bitcoin is a very interesting and complex phenomenon. It is having trouble gaining ground, but that is not because of problems inherent in the system, but rather because money is a complex and difficult subject which is hard to understand. I am a firm believer in the value of bitcoins, and am very excited about the phenomenon. I can't wait to get involved, and I intend to get involved. But the main obstacle to people getting involved in bitcoin is that people don't see its value because they don't understand it. This is because money itself is hard to understand.

Money is not a medium of exchange. It's more complex than that. Imagine a circle. The circle represents value. You can cut the circle up like a pie, and each section of the pie represents some kind of value. The angle of the cuts represents the current measure of which we value that value at the moment, and the points on the circumference of the circle represent the actual commodity which we value. The circle is a perfect circle, undistorted. The circle is what I would call a coin. If you have a circle of a large size, it means that you can fit more points on the circumference, and therefore buy more things. If it's smaller, you can buy less things. This is the definition of money.

Notice that it is a unit of value, in all the complexity of the term. It is not, and I repeat, it is NOT a medium of exchange. Here is what a medium of exchange is. Suppose I pick a few pieces from the circumference of the circle — things that I value. But I don't value them as much as someone else might. And I happen to know of a person who does value these things, but this person has a certain set of things on the circumference of the circle which he doesn't value as much as I do. My circle is currently oblong, with a little bump on one end, and so is his. It just so happens that if we trade these inconvenient items we don't really want for each other, we will have more of what we want and less of what we don't want. Then the bumps on the circle will be more evened out and the situation more fair. This is a trade.

The coin itself is not a medium of exchange. If you really think about it, you'll notice that the coin is simply a measurement of the value of our society at the moment, including all the various things that we value. The coin, in the case of the example above, has lost a little bit of value because of the overabundance of things we don't want in the cases of two parties. The exchange itself has the function of increasing the value of all things involved, including the coin. It is the exchange, therefore, that gives value to the coin, not the coin that gives value to the exchange. In other words, the coin doesn't mediate the exchange, cutting costs and increasing value. If the coin did that, it would increase the value of the exchange, and be a true medium for the exchange. But instead, the coin is one of the things benefited by the exchange. Therefore it cannot mediate the exchange.

The reason why people say the coin is a medium of exchange is because dollars and coins are nice ad-hoc ways of mediating exchange. We can say, thing X is worth $10 per item, while thing Y is worth $5 per item, therefore it would be fair and even if you gave me two of Y for my one of X. But you don't need money to regulate an exchange like this. All you need is some placeholder to measure value. The placeholder measures the relative angles of the two pieces of pie cut into the coin for both things X and Y, but it is not the whole coin itself. It is closely related to the coin, because without the coin you wouldn't be able to cut pieces into it, but it is not the coin itself.

So what is the actual medium of exchange? It is all the things which allow a line to be drawn between one slice in the pie and another. The New York Stock Exchange as an institution is a medium of exchange. It mediates the exchange between things of value. That complex and difficult concept we call the "open market" or the "free market" is a medium of exchange. But neither of these things are actual money, though they do indeed have value.

What this all has to do with the bitcoin is this. The bitcoin is actual money, not a security or anything else, as some people claim. Bitcoin is currency. You can imagine a coin similar to the one I envisioned above representing the coin in relation to the bitcoin economy, with little pieces of the pie cut up for things that bitcoin holders / users value. And, the coin itself has value, just like money. So why should we use bitcoins instead of dollars? The answer is fairly simple, though I will explain in the next post. The actual thing coined into physical currency that we are using as money is different. Dollars are made of paper. Gold coins are made of gold. Bitcoins are made of data and algorithms.

These physical / pseudophysical substances have inherent differences, which mean each one is better at certain things and worse at certain things in relation to each other. Bitcoin is better at certain things than the dollar is, and worse than certain things than the dollar is. Similar things can be said for every kind of thing that is used as currency. The reason why certain kinds of people should start using bitcoins is because the constellation of value relationships of the coinage itself for bitcoin happens to be inherently better suited to skilled artisans, shopkeepers, small business owners, etc. which make up the real substance of the middle class, whereas the constellation of value relationships of the coinage for the dollar is better suited for the upper and lower classes. I will outline what I believe to be the main differences in the following post.

Why The Free Market is Not Made for Insurance Companies

Wealth is generated through innovation. And, it is impossible to create an innovative insurance company.

Think about it. Insurance companies make money by analyzing risk, and taking premiums that add up to more than the cost of acceptable risk. The problem is that there's no way to be innovative about analyzing risk. When you analyze risk, you hypothesize a certain event and count the number of times the event occurs over time. As an insurance company, you have no control over what the event is, or any aspect of it. What you get is reams of data about the event, and the knowledge that such an event is undesirable. Think a broken leg. Insurance companies all know exactly what a broken leg is, and they all have reams of data which count the number of times people tend to break their legs over a given time. Then they take everybody's money and pay money to the people with broken legs. That's all there is to it. Color me second-rater, but it doesn't take a John Galt to do that.

The only possible way for an insurance company to be innovative is to be innovative about analyzing risk. However, the innovation involved here is extremely insignificant. Everyone knows what a broken leg is. It's public knowledge. It's very obvious. And unless you're a Mafioso, it's really really difficult to be innovative about the way people tend to break their legs. The best you can do is count the number of times people break their legs, and factor that into your mind-blowingly simplistic equation for generating profit.

The idea that insurance companies can operate as businesses in the free market is insidious and stupid. Insurance companies calculate risk and take premiums that exceed the cost of acceptable risk. We've already discussed how it is impossible to be innovative about calculating risk. You calculate risk, and if you have enough money, you're correct. That leaves two ways to create profit. Either you 1) increase the cost of premiums, or 2) don't pay out the money you're supposed to. Surprise surprise; this is exactly what health insurance companies were doing before Obama passed the Affordable Care Act. Critics of the Affordable Care Act say that it will kill business. Hopefully, they're correct, because insurance companies shouldn't be businesses. The free market doesn't apply to them. They don't deserve to make profit, because they don't innovate.

A good way to think about it is the difference between reading a book and writing a book. You don't deserve to generate a profit by reading books. It's the writers who sold you the books who deserve to generate a profit. Studying the empirical world is like reading a book. Creating new products is like writing a book. And the moment you turn risk-taking into an innovative endeavor, and begin writing books, you're no longer in the business of insurance; you're in the business of investing.

Cloud, Entrepreneur, Cloud

A couple of weeks ago, I started working at a place called Brick and Mortar, here in Moscow. Working not in the sense that I have a job, but in the actual sense of the word—I work here. Anything, including writing this post, which I consider "work," I tend to do here. Another kind of work I can do here, which I haven't yet done but which I intend to do, is contract through a service called oDesk.com. Both of these platforms—B&M and oDesk—are related in a deeply philosophical way, which I will examine below.

Let's start with Brick and Mortar. B&M is advertised as a community workspace, or a co-working space. But these concepts don't really get to the heart of the matter. "Community workspace" is especially far off. I might be able to see it as meaning that it is both a community and a workspace, but the lexico-grammatical meaning of the phrase seems to indicate that it is exactly what it says: a "community workspace," where "community" is an adjective and "workspace" is a noun. And "community" as an adjective indicating "this workspace is a community" is a very esoteric reading of the word indeed. More likely, it indicates that B&M is a workspace intended for use by the general community, which isn't quite right.

But even if the esoteric reading is correct, and B&M chooses to market themselves as a workspace which is a community, or workspace community, I still think this misses the mark. The library is a workspace community. The University of Idaho is a workspace community. Hell, every single business in America is a workspace community. It just doesn't seem to do the idea justice.

So I propose a new way of thinking about it.

B&M is not just a workspace community, but a specific kind of community. Now I'm going to draw my inspiration from one particular office here. It is a more or less typical office, of course, where a person named Jordan sits down and does his work. But it is not just an arm of B&M; it is an actual business, fully operational and (I assume) independent. A sign sits on the interior office window: "Palouse PC Computer Repair." A sign is a sure sign of independence.

The implication of this business within B&M is that B&M is the kind of place which independent businesses are intended to grow out of. In this way, it's much more like a business incubator than a workspace community. Yet it goes farther, because the full implications of the word "community" remain intact. It is the kind of place where "business incubator" and "workspace community" are fused inextricably together. This entirely new kind of concept, the likes of which I've never seen before, may represent a dramatic shift in the business dynamic of America.

There are three different phrases I've come up with to describe what B&M is. One is, "entrepreneurial bank." It's a bank, not of money, but of entrepreneurial spirit. Collected here at the workspace is a reserve of freelancing, independent, entrepreneurial spirit. See, Moscow is a young person's town, and a lot of college kids live here, many, if not most, of whom have an overabundance of entrepreneurial spirit. Some of that has found its way here, and so what we have is an excess of entrepreneurial spirit, which we then loan out to the world at large.

But the fact that it is gathered here in one place, in one specific building, is significant. It leads me to my next characterization: "non-academic university." In a university, each of the professors is pretty much independent, just like the workers here. Nevertheless, they organize themselves into co-working groups, which do research in teams for the purpose of furthering human knowledge. That is their goal. Strip out the "knowledge" part of that goal and replace it with the more general word "progress," and you basically have B&M—a non-academic university.

But my favorite phrase, because of its currency, involves the most groundbreaking human achievement of our age: the Internet. In this vein, B&M is an "entrepreneurial cloud." Just like Amazon's EC2 is a computing cloud, B&M is a cloud of entrepreneurs. But B&M hasn't yet realized what I believe is a serious groundbreaking prospect for this kind of place. An "entrepreneurial cloud," to be more like a "cloud computing platform," seems to indicate that the community at large here in Moscow, if they so choose, can upload specific limited-time requests to the cloud for the us to perform.

Say, for instance, that the Moscow Arts Commission, a wing of the Moscow City Government, decides they want to make Moscow, Idaho a national hub for the arts—just as, through the U of I's Lionel Hampton Jazz Festival, the city is a national hub for jazz music. What they could do, if our workspace grew big enough, is contact B&M with a request for proposal. B&M then, as a community, could identify each individual entrepreneur or freelancer in the workspace who has any applicable skill, and if they agree to sign on, contract with them to fulfill the goals of the Arts Commission. Once the goals are fulfilled, just like Amazon's cloud computer, B&M will return to its natural state, ready for another project. All further gruntwork, if there is any, would be taken up by a dedicated entity—probably a wing of the Moscow City Government, or the local arts business community, or whatever.

Now this idea in itself is exciting enough. But there is yet another exciting prospect based on a simple fact: B&M is made up not of computers, but of people. And people can actually originate goals, rather than merely fulfill them. It's still like a cloud, but more like a storm cloud, which makes lightening of entrepreneurial inspiration. The end result may perhaps be that Moscow Idaho, or any other city which seriously entertains this approach, will become among the most interesting places on the planet.

As said earlier, this is an entirely new idea. And it has stunning and broad-reaching implications. Like the Internet, it may harken in a completely new era in business. See, on the Internet, there are websites like the afore-mentioned oDesk—cloud-compute inspired businesses. oDesk's innovation is called "homesourcing:" businesses, anywhere in the world, can "homesource" work to any individual anywhere in the world, practically instantly. Thus a budding fashion design shop can quickly assemble a team of customer service agents without setting up a physical call center, for example. One agent may be in India, another may be in Idaho; it doesn't matter because it's all done "on the cloud."

But oDesk is different from B&M. While B&M stresses entrepreneurial spirit, oDesk stresses contracted labor. When you work at oDesk, you are very much working for a boss at a (more or less) established firm. But when you work at B&M, the assumption is, generally, that you are the firm. This isn't a rule, of course; anyone here can work for whomever they choose. But the point is that B&M is a hub for entrepreneurial spirit, whereas oDesk is a platform for contracted labor.

And both companies say something profound about us in the United States. Taken together, oDesk and B&M represent a new way of thinking, a dual modality of American labor. The old way of thinking goes like this: Nathan Foster applies for a job at CostCo. The new way of thinking goes like this: America applies for a job at America. Places like B&M, across the country (and yes, there is more than one place like this), form entrepreneurial ideas, and contract out to places like oDesk. Thus we can all contribute to a vast cloud of "business happenings" everywhere around the world, simultaneously.

That's the vision, anyway. And I believe the new way of thinking, more accurately and concretely than any discourse I've yet seen, expresses the American concept of "honor." Honor, to me, is loyalty plus leadership. And while in the old way of thinking these two were completely separate (i.e. the job applicant has loyalty while the employer has leadership), in this new age each individual can have both qualities simultaneously. A person can simultaneously contract with oDesk and originate ideas in exactly the same space, among exactly the same people. I can come from the cloud, into entrepreneurship, and go back into the cloud, seamlessly. This is the fundamental innovation these two businesses represent, and needless to say, I'm excited about the prospects of both.

Blueprint for a Just and Creative Society: Part 1

I like Coke. It is important for me to have brand loyalty to Coke. In 50 years, I can't imagine drinking Pepsi for the life of me. Whether or not I drink Coke or Pepsi is essential to my identity as a person.

Whether I vote Republican or Democrat in the next election, however, is not at all essential to my identity. I could switch sides between Republican and Democrat as the wind blows with no remorse. In fact, the very idea of becoming loyal to the Republicans or Democrats in principle sickens me. I don't think I would be doing my duty to America if I picked sides in that debate.

Now you may think all of the above absurd, but there are very important reasons for these things, which are essential to building a just and creative society. Since the second paragraph is probably more controversial than the first, I'll speak to it first.

There is a man in Idaho by the name of Tom Trail. He's a Republican State congressman in the House representing Latah County, and he's been reelected year after year without fail. Now you may think that, for Idaho, this is to be expected. And condemned. After all, Republicans are consistently wrong on just about every issue. And on many issues, they are so off the deep end in the "wrong" territory that voting for any Republican in any election must be seen as morally reproachable. For the most part, I agree. I wouldn't have voted for Romney if my life depended on it.

But Tom Trail is different. He is a truly compassionate man. He voted against all of the anti-woman legislation, and all of the anti-education legislation. When I was working for my college newspaper, I found him to be the most approachable legislator in Idaho. It may put things in perspective to know that Latah county is, for Idaho, a heavily Democratic county. Obama carried Latah county in the 2008 election. Many of our state congresspeople are Democrats. The fact that a Republican keeps getting elected in a Democratic county year after year is significant.

Our district also elected Walt Whitman to the United States House. He's a Democrat. Now he voted along the party line on every single issue during Obama's first term, when voting along party lines was actually important. The only problem was, he voted along the Republican party line, and against the Democrats. On Every. Single. Issue.

Naturally, it would make me as sick to my stomach to vote for Walt Whitman again as it would to not vote for Tom Trail. Of course, you would probably say that these particular people are the exception and not the rule. You'd be right. But what I'm getting at is this. The fact that Walt Whitman is a member of the Democratic party, or that Tom Trail is a Republican, is a completely ephemeral thing that does not, and should not, carry any significance. I know, there are systemic problems with the Republican party. But even so, there is a possibility that the Republicans will get things right on an issue or two. And that the Democrats will get things wrong. In these instances, it would be immoral to vote Democrat, and moral to vote Republican. In these instances, party loyalty should be instantly ditched.

Why is this so? Because political parties, by their very nature, do stuff that is important. (Or, at least, they should.) This is a key point. On any issue that is important, we must always try to take the position that is ethically right. Loyalty, in this case, must be ephemeral. If we see an issue as fundamentally important, like whether or not women in Pakistan should get an education, getting the issue right is more important than loyalty. Thus, if my friends start to believe that women are inferior and should be ordered around by the government, I should ditch my friends, not my position on the issue.

Contrast this to the Pepsi / Coke debate. It is not at all important that I get my position in issues correct. For instance, if Coke, for whatever reason, decides to add a lemony flavor, my position on the lemon vs. straight Coke debate is ephemeral.

But it goes even deeper than that. I would argue that just as it is our duty to America not to take sides in the Republican / Democrat debate, it is our duty to America to definitely pick sides in the Pepsi / Coke debate. It is our duty to decide whether we will drink Pepsi or Coke, and stick with that decision, probably for the rest of our lives! Besides the obvious issue of the morality of the company, there is a caveat of course: if the cola debate isn't important to us, then there is no need to pick sides. But I will nevertheless argue that we should pick sides in some similar debate, such as debates among the various sporting teams (not my cup of tea), or the Apple / Google debate (though we should ditch Microsoft, for moral reasons), and so on.

I'm not just saying this to be weird; there is a reason for this. And it gets to the topic of this post. Brand loyalty among unimportant things is important, because it is essentially creative. Developing sincere (though not excessively violent) conflict over things that aren't important gives our society the groundwork necessary to build a better future.

Conflict can act as a scrying tool to figure out what is important. I like Coke, as I've said before, because it is a cultural ambassador of America around the world, and because of the connection with Andy Warhol. There may be other legitimate reasons to like Pepsi, but this is why I've chosen Coke. Now if I get in a heated shouting match with someone who likes Pepsi (an experience I truly wish to have someday), I'm sure these reasons will come to light. And because of the shouting match, and because this shouting match is heated, we will do serious cultural work determining what values are important to us as Americans. Coke supports the troops (or says they do). Pepsi may, one day, decide to support the Dalai Lama, who is against all war. In this hypothetical shouting match, the Pepsi guy will probably say, "You goddamned lousy hypocrite, you're a Tibetan Buddhist but you're buying Coke when Pepsi gives money to the Dalai Lama, and Coke funds military people?? Whose side are you on?" At which point I'd hang my head in shame and donate a few bucks to the Tibetan Government in Exile. Then buy another Coke.

See, just because I've taken sides in the Coke / Pepsi debate doesn't mean I have to forget about every other debate. If Pepsi comes out with a solemn, principled stance that they will absolutely not support the Republican anti-woman agenda, and will even give money to reverse it, I will solemnly salute the Pepsi guy as one culture warrior to another and go home to lick my wounds. In fact, that issue is so important to me that I may even buy a Pepsi out of respect. But as long as Coke does not decide to take a morally reprehensible political stance in an issue of importance, I see no principled reason to switch to Pepsi. I can always donate a couple extra bucks to women's groups, or whatever. And then I could write a letter to Coke, or start an online petition. But I'll be drinking Coke while I do it.

The principle at play here is the one of generative conflict (or generative violence if you wish). Every unimportant brand has a constellation of qualities that, if you look deeply at them, present a concrete vision of morality. Other brands have other constellations of other qualities involving the issues of importance. The act of picking a side represents a moral act, because what you are doing is declaring the important things to be important. On the other hand, the act of not picking a side, or rejecting both, is an immoral act, because you are rejecting the idea that these things are important at all. The act of picking both sides doesn't help things, because the identity of you as a person cannot coalesce around something that isn't cohesive.

Let me explain that last point. We as humans are really not multi-taskers. We cannot do two things at once, because we have a single body. And we shouldn't give our body up, because having a cohesive identity allows us to relate to others, which is important should something bad happen. In the West we like to say that when someone is badly hurt, it hurts all of us. In a sense, this is true. However, I tend to think that this isn't exactly the right way of looking at it. It is much worse when something bad happens to someone else if it doesn't hurt us than if it hurts all of us. If it hurts all of us, there is necessarily no one to help us. And if there is no one to help us, we have no responsibility to try and fix the situation. We might as well just let it go. But if it hurts someone else and doesn't hurt us, we have a grave responsibility to act. Conversely, the other person has the responsibility to get help. In this way, there is a possibility that things will get better for everyone.

If nothing bad happens, then we still may as well retain our cohesive identity. We can just go on merrily drinking Coke or Pepsi for the rest of our days without worry. There's no problem at all. And when a bad thing happens to someone, then we're prepared to help.

I'm not saying that we should cling to our identities. We don't want to become high school jocks, always talking about what sport is best, then beating up people who don't think sports are important. We should all have a sense of camaraderie about these things. But I don't think it's a bad thing to have an identity, and to define our identity in such a way as I've described. And in so doing, having some healthy conflict about it is definitely beneficial. There is a difference between fighting and debating, even if the debate is impassioned.

Coke and Pepsi, as brands, offer us a way to form an identity. When we talk about important things, on the other hand, it's better not to form an identity. It's better to just be a good human being and do the right thing. Thus it is precisely because the choice between Coke and Pepsi is not important that actually making the choice is important. The Coke / Pepsi debate, and others like it, are therefore the only debates worth taking sides in.

Art and Business

In my filing cabinet at home, I have a dollar bill.

It is a special dollar bill. I had it when I was in the mental hospital years ago. When I was in that place, I had only a couple of dollars to my name. And every couple of days the hospital would send around a cart and allow you to give them your money for whatever they had for sale. I decided early on that while I would buy perhaps a couple of items, I would save exactly one dollar and never spend it. The mental hospital took away everything important to me—it took away my freedom, my dreams, my artistic capabilities. I was spiritually broke. I was NOT going to let them make me financially broke as well. So I saved that one dollar bill, and still have it to this day.

A lot of people do things similar to what I did. Businesses everywhere take the first dollar they earn, have it framed, and hang it on their walls. I think we're doing something very interesting when we do this.

See, when I took that dollar and decided not to spend it, I grew the United States economy by exactly one dollar. And now, to me, that dollar bill is worth more than $1. I would not sell it for $1 (or something worth $1)—if I ever do sell it, it will be for more than a dollar.

For me, personally, that dollar has increased my wealth. I can put a measurement on it: Say I'm not willing to let go of the dollar and all it means to me for less than $50. If that's the case, I have increased my personal wealth by exactly $49. And I would have grown the economy. See, when I bought the dollar bill for $1, I grew the economy by $1. The number on my bank account is decreased by $1. When I put the dollar back into circulation, I diminish the economy by $1. But when the other person buys it for $50, it grows the economy by $50, causing a net growth of $49.

Of course, so far, I've talked only about my personal wealth. I, personally, am not willing to sell that dollar for less than $50 (we're assuming). However, the real question is of course whether or not someone else agrees with me. Otherwise, it's ridiculous to say I've grown the economy. I may have grown my own psychological economy, but I haven't grown the U.S. economy. Getting others to agree is a work of art.

By saving this particular dollar, I am making an artistic statement brimming with social commentary. That dollar is fine art. It tells a story involving one man and the mental health system. It gives a moral lesson of patience and frugality. It criticizes systemic exploitation in the psychiatric establishment. It has a happy ending: I left the hospital victorious because I didn't spend it. And it improves the value of the person who buys it: They can hang it on their wall now and share in my triumph against the system. (If they buy my story about it, that is.)

This is why I am somewhat confused that our economy isn't an art-based economy. In fact, people often claim, falsely, that we need to be less "artistic" about our economy and produce more physical things in factories. I can't think of anything more Marxist and further from the truth. When you produce physical things, you're stealing wealth from the Mother Earth and selling it for hardly any more value than it was worth in the first place. This is what China does: the Communist Party extracts wealth from their banks, who extract wealth from the workers, who extract wealth from the Earth. There's no growth, regardless of what the numbers say: it's just exploitation. When you make art, however, whatever you do is nothing but pure added value. If you're an artist, the materials you work with, whatever they are, are worth hardly anything compared to the worth of the final piece of art. China's Communist Party could never allow this, because it gives so much wealth and power to individual artists, when they want all the wealth and power for themselves. So why on Earth is our economy so eager to profit off of stuff other than art while almost completely ignoring this treasure trove of business opportunity?

For whatever reason, we have not developed the infrastructure necessary for an art-based economy. Certain art forms have taken some steps, of course—Western music is based on the accumulation of hundreds of years of deep meditation and hard work. The twelve-tone musical system and our system of musical notation have allowed for extremely complex and rich musical ideas unmatched by any other culture. In music from other cultures, it's rare to find even basic harmony, let alone key changes, because in their musical systems such concepts don't make any sense. They have spent less time developing their musical infrastructure.

Fashion has had a similar experience. (Well, women's fashion at least. Which is why I wear women's clothes so often. Shh.) Before Louis IV, people wore traditional dress which remained unchanged for years. But to increase the glory of the kingdom, I suppose, they began to think of ways to change the fashion of the time. Now, as a result of developments in the fashion art's artistic infrastructure, we have a kind of fashion grammar rich with all kinds of innovative concepts (collars, collar stands, a-line forms, shifts, hour-glass forms, etc.) This rich array of elements in the art's infrastructure is what allows our fashion to be so complex, exciting, and ever-changing.

So in a couple of art forms, some basic infrastructure has been developed. The business infrastructure may also be developed to some extent, but, I would argue, not enough.

Think of the things investors look at before they invest in a business. They look at the psychological characteristics of the CEO. Are they a leader? Do they have drive? Are they motivated? Excited? Do they work well with others? The answers to these questions determine whether or not the company will succeed. They look at the product. Is it something people want? Does it satisfy a need? If they put it on a shelf, will it move? They look at history. Has this person ran successful businesses in the past? Have products like this sold well in the past? They look at the research. Is there concrete, empirical evidence that the product will sell? They also look at the intent. Does the company have a solid plan moving forward? Does this plan take into account incomes and costs? When investors look into these things, in depth, they can gauge how much they and the economy will benefit.

See, when we think of artists, we have this notion that you just go out into the world and be yourself and somehow, unexplainably, end up being brilliant and make tons of money. I think this is nonsense. What is someone buying when they buy your art? If you can't answer that question, I'm sorry, but you shouldn't become an artist. Imagine if we treated businesses this way. "I'm going to be a businessman. I'm going to go out in the world, be myself, and make a business that's brilliant in some unexplainable way, and people will be inspired for some unexplainable reason, and I'll make tons of money." I wouldn't invest in this person, would you?

People don't buy art just because you're so awesome they can't stand not spending their money on you. But I think people tend to think this is how it works. So what we need to do, then, is think less about what art says about the artist, and more about what it says about the person who spends money on it. This means that instead of being subjective, we must be objective. I know... that sounds sacrilegious. But it's true. I make movies as well as music. But I invest more in my movies than my music. Why? Because the people who listen to music want to have a shared experience with their friends and their communities, which usually implies a live performance. And I can't perform my music live. So I know no matter how good the music is, it's never going to sell. The only way it would sell is if it were so popular that a shared experience would be implied regardless of whether or not it's live.

Movies, on the other hand, play a slightly different cultural role. If people wanted a shared experience of film and video, there would've never been such a thing as television, and people wouldn't sit alone in dark rooms at night trancing out in front of it. Yes, I know, there is also radio. But how do people listen to music on the radio? In their cars, with the windows rolled down, and as loud as possible! They obviously want to share their experience! But people who watch television, on the other hand, don't do it with the curtains self-consciously drawn. So I've made a business decision: I'm going to invest in film more than music.

And another thing: I'm not going to even think of distributing my films with a distributor without some kind of business sense about whether or not the stuff would sell. Otherwise, I'm wasting everybody's time.

This is how we artists need to think. We need to think of art as a business, objectively, with detailed numerical measurements of potential for making money. If we do this, we can grow ourselves and the economy. And, by the way, we won't in any way diminish our creativity or value as an artist. Creativity is not measured by how "true to ourselves" we are. It is measured by how inspired the work is. And how inspired the work is is measured by how inspired people are by looking at it. How inspired we are is merely a convenient way of gauging whether it will inspire others. And, by the way, if it inspires others, it'll sell. We need to think about this. If we don't, we're wasting everybody's time.

Tanha and Economics

"Tanha" is a Buddhist term, meaning "thirst" — thirst for existence and becoming, or thirst for self-annihilation. The Buddha said that "nirvana," or the ultimate end of all suffering, is reached essentially when one fully discards this thirst. However, this does not mean that Buddhas cannot reincarnate, or that the thirst has been completely destroyed for all time, never to arise again. Countless living beings have experienced this tanha since the enlightenment of the Buddha, so it is not the case that the Buddha completely destroyed tanha. Nor is it the case that tanha is ultimately bad, or that it cannot be an element of enlightenment.

I believe that tanha should be discarded by everyone. Selfish hoarding of material things is not conducive to happiness in the slightest. However, once one has discarded this tanha, given it up, renounced it, one can then develop a thirst which is very similar — the thirst to help all sentient beings. One can develop a thirst for generating new dharma (enlightened teachings) and a thirst to cultivate the requirements for a free life, which is a prerequisite to putting dharma into practice.

Thus I believe that this thirst, when properly harnessed, expresses itself as democratic economic growth. People who have generated an altruistic wish to help society, a type of thirst, naturally examine people and their needs, then bring into being a commodity or service to fulfill these needs. This is capital gain. Then, through a process of implicit or explicit (in America, implicit) bargaining, these people acquire the means to secure the continuing production of the commodity or service while bringing the commodity or service to the public. This is how it works in a good, capitalist society.

In a communist society, the idea is that people work only for the good of others. Any capital gain is shared among everyone, and only for the purpose of living a utilitarian life devoid of things that do not provide utilitarian value. I believe staunchly individualist capitalists have two things to learn from communism: the altruistic desire to help one's comrades, and the renunciation of luxury. (Indeed, the Buddha gave a moral imperative for employers to share "unusual delicacies" with their employees. Thus Buddhism admonishes employers to renounce their luxuries, if not entirely, at least to the point of being willing to share them with the public. Note: Buddha lived in a capitalist society.) But in a very important sense, communism and democratic capitalism are the same: they both produce commodities and services for the good of all.

In any society, in order to be of any substantial benefit to anyone, one must have two things: material welfare, and an altruistic wish to benefit others. The latter, although ultimately the responsibility of the individual, can be cultured by social interactions — by good people creating a good society which adequately ensures peoples' welfare. The former must be created socially. Material welfare consists of seven things: a) food and water, b) shelter, c) sanitation, d) healthcare, e) inspiration to work for others' welfare, f) capital or means to work for others' welfare, and f) leisure time. (I believe in the Buddhist canon there are many different breakdowns for what beings need to be of benefit to others, mostly including things such as food and water, and not inspiration or dharma — dharma or inspiration is usually something people participate in after their material requirements have been met. The reason why I include these as material requirements is because in America, music, films, books, etc. all can provide inspiration, but are considered a "commodity" or material thing, not something one actively participates in per se. Also, they usually cost money. It is because of this materialist approach that I include these things as material "requirements" for a good life.)

Now I believe the details of the institutions which provide these seven things are unimportant. Thus, communist state institutions, private institutions, charity institutions, church institutions, democratic state institutions, or any other kind of institution can adequately provide these seven things. In America, it is understood that private social clubs and churches and various networks of friends, or private companies (eg. "the media") or nonprofit organizations, are to provide inspiration to work for others' benefit — sometimes for a price, sometimes for free. (Here, again, I'm referring to material goods, like books, or internet access, which provide inspiration to help others, in addition to exhortations from friends or one's pastor etc.) Water and sanitation are provided by publicly funded and state regulated private or public companies. (Water can also arise as a product of the environment in which private citizens live, such as a well or spring.) Leisure time is provided by the employer. The employer usually provides the means for acquiring shelter, food, healthcare, and capital or means for everything else (including capital or means to work for others' welfare) and private companies provide the actual food, shelter, and healthcare for a price, with the understanding that most people have the means to fulfill this price.

Can these things be provided more efficiently through other institutions? It's hard to say. I believe a very strong case, based on empirical evidence, can be made that democratic state institutions are better at providing healthcare for more people than private companies. However it really doesn't matter, because the following principle operates in every society (but especially in a democracy or communist society): everybody is responsible for everybody's material welfare. This means (now pay attention WalMart!) that if you are an employer in America, YOU are responsible to make sure the money you provide employees is enough to secure food, shelter, and health care.

It is my opinion that to adequately work for other people's welfare, one must work AT MOST 2050-2070 hours a year, and make AT LEAST enough to pay for auto insurance, housing (even if it is just a manufactured or trailer home), food, health care, plus something like 10-25% more. It is my opinion that the upward trend in the federal minimum wage is not enough to counteract inflation, and in some large cities, you simply cannot make it work. For example, I've seen evidence that the cost of living in New York City is about $50,000-70,000/year, and New York State minimum wage at 2070 hours/year gives you less than $15,000/year, before taxes! Of course, in New York City, even unskilled labor will pay more than minimum wage, perhaps more than twice as much. But $30,000/year in NYC still doesn't cut it. At least, this amount doesn't meet my requirements.

Thus those who wish to live in the city and are unskilled and have not completed college need to realize that they simply cannot make it work. I feel deeply sorry for those born in New York who's parents can't afford to send them to college — they have no recourse at all, whether or not they possess natural talents or inclinations towards greatness. In theory, welfare should provide for them. But in 1993, as Theresa Funiciello reports in her book Tyrrany of Kindness, the average welfare grant for a three-person family was about $441/month. Again, this simply cannot cut it. The only hope for the inner city poor and uneducated to become upwardly mobile is if the government raises the dollar amount of welfare checks, or if some program were created to at the very least move these people to less expensive areas to live. I think it would be good for everybody if these people were given the option of upward mobility, or at least some sort of fulfillment. Of course, this is a very complicated issue with no easy answers. One thing I would suggest is for dharma people to participate in the marketplace as employers, and give dharma to their employees. In that way, the poor can work full time and still at least have spiritual fulfillment.

In any case, America is a land full of tanha, with an economy that the word "thriving" seems to fall short of describing. Everyone seems so ambitious — everyone works quite hard. I believe that each individual's tanha, once discarded, purified, then harnessed, can manifest itself as democratic economic and spiritual growth for the good of everyone.