Other corporations that Adbusters suggests bumping off include Philip Morris, the fag company. One million people have died of smoking-related diseases, and as I keep saying, because it is such a clear demonstration of the priorities of big business, they knew for ages they were killing their customers but were as addicted to the money as we were to the nicotine.
They had no obligation to obey human codes. If I, me, ol’ Russ, knew that the milkshakes I was selling caused blindness, because scientists kept telling me and because the people drinking my shakes were having trouble finding their way back to the store, yet carried on selling ’em, I’d expect consequences.
Especially if I aggressively went around getting anyone I could to drink my “cataract smoothies” through sexy adverts. Then, if when the jig was finally up, because the lie had become too obvious to ignore, I went to countries where the laws protecting people from my myxamatosis brew were more lax, like the Philippines, and started flogging it there, I’d expect at some point people to come together and say, “Alright, ol’ Russ, enough of this now; we’re going to have to shut down your milkshake business.”
If I indignantly responded that my milkshake business was a proud “national institution” and a “tradition” or “a way of life,” out would come the butterfly nets and I’d be in for a spell of basket-weaving.
Today in Britain, America, and other mostly white-people countries, fag firms have to write a message on the box to the effect of “Sorry we lied to you about our snout for generations; here’s a list of ways this stuff is going to make your life worse if you smoke these.”
So instead they are promoting cigarettes all over Africa and Asia, new markets where people are less informed on the subject and there are no warnings about cancer and the other known negative side effects of smoking.
We should probably kill Philip Morris. Difficult to know what to do with the factories, given it’s a product that kills people and the market is flooded with alternative brands. We could make it super reasonably priced, with our new, efficient, worker-owned model. We could also sell fags with weed in them—people seem to like that.
Or we could use the money raised from selling assets to compensate their victims (costly) and retrain their workers to do other, skilled jobs. This is an option; there are many options.
Why stop there? There’s loads of corporations all over the world, exploiting with impunity. We could knock ’em off like seal cubs—Exxon? Goldman Sachs? Boots? Yeah, Boots. If they don’t pay tax, we’ll reclaim their assets and give them to the people that work there to run.
This idea that society will fall apart if there isn’t a snidey gang at the top of the financial pyramid needs to be challenged. We’re ready to challenge it.
23
Co-Operate
THE ANSWER TO THE QUANDARY OF HOW TO REORGANIZE SOCIETY isn’t new leaders within the same system; the answer isn’t leaders at all. The answer is, of course, simple: We can run our own lives and our own communities. We’re not idiots. We need to establish a few immutable, nonnegotiable principles, mostly to respect the planet and individual freedom, then look at who is benefitting from things being the way they are now and, using no violence when we approach them and no titles when we address them, politely insist they give us our planet back.
As you know, I’d prefer we just spontaneously begin cooperating on the basis that we are all manifestations of one sublime vibration, but that ain’t gonna butter no spuds on Newsnight or Fox News, so I will now reluctantly, and possibly badly, describe to you, in a little more detail, how we could own and control our means for production.
My mate Adam Curtis, the documentary maker who I’ve gone on about a bit because of his amazing films and weird, clever, sweet personality, told me this: “The problem with Marxism is that it placed economics at the heart of socialism.”
Now, even if you don’t understand that, simply nod and agree as if you were already thinking it.
What it means is, I reckon, that every subsequent political ideology, especially successful ones, like capitalism, have similarly placed economics at the center of their philosophy. The economy is just a metaphorical device, it’s not real—that’s why it’s got the word “con” in the middle of it.
There are generally speaking—like General Motors do about their generally not, but sometimes a bit, murderous cars—two ways that the “means for production” can be owned.
Currently the most popular method is privately owned businesses with invisible, irreproachable bosses, often residing in tax havens, or nationalized industries, where incompetent and detached politicians run things.
Both these methods lead to an odd sense of alienation and disempowerment. No real pride in the work or the product, no real power to complain or change things. That works incredibly well for the people in charge but is a drag for the poor sods doing the graft.
Upon which unchallenged basis too are profits hurtled with thoughtless expedience into the pendular pockets, swinging like a velour scrotum, of the thumb-twiddling plutocrat who by happy accident owns the firm? The profits should be shared among the people who do the work.
An elected, rotating board can do the admin. I should note that I mean the board members rotate, not that the person in the role whirls dervishly in his chair.
Another tradition of the abstinence-based recovery groups that I much respect is: “Leaders are trusted servants; they do not govern.” Even in the policy-bare days of the Paxman interview, I alluded to an attitudinal shift towards civil service and governmental roles. It should be clear that these positions are about serving the people. We are not some binary crowd to be shepherded and shushed; we are not children who need to be reprimanded and praised. We are the people—the power is with us.
In this version of reality, we would have autonomy and freedom at work. If we had jobs at Carphone Warehouse in Lakeside, we’d chat among the twenty or so staff and elect two or three people to be over the admin. At the end of the year we’d vote to see what to do with the profits and whether we wanted to make infrastructural changes.
We might also like to consider that, given we are no longer siphoning off all our profits to a vampiric board, we can give more money to ourselves and work less hours. The only people who tell you this is impossible are the people who benefit from things staying the way they are. Start to take notice of who the people are who are telling you that things are fine now; watch them, remember them, because change is coming. When people say, “The system works,” they mean, “The system works for me.” The slags.
This business model is up and running all over the world. Typically they are described as “co-ops.” My mate John Roger, who’s a bit of a hippie, lefty, druid, scruffbag type fella, did some research. Let’s go through it together:
“Autonomous, democratic control of the economy driven by equality, fairness, environmental, and ecological responsibility is not idealistic pie-in-the sky utopian daydreaming; it is a system currently in use by some of the most successful companies.”
It is important to keep reiterating and asserting that alternatives exist and flourish. The reason we grew up thinking socialism was a tarnished and hopeless ideology and only heard pejorative reports of the most extreme examples of it is because, if we aspired to it, Margaret Thatcher’s head may’ve ended up on a spike. This is the last thing she’d’ve wanted—typical.
A co-operative is an autonomous association of persons united voluntarily to meet their common economic, social, and cultural needs and aspirations through a jointly owned and democratically controlled enterprise.
That doesn’t sound too scary. I once participated in a capitalist experiment with the renowned street artist Shepard Fairey. We hired a unit in the Beverly Center in Los Angeles and ran a shop called “Buy Love Here.” The concept was to test the nature of consumerism by stocking items donated by famous folk like 50 Cent, Cameron Diaz, Mike Tyson, Jason Segel, Katy Perry, and a load of others, but not mark them out as such. There were lo
ads of other donated items too, loads of shoes and T-shirts and jumble.
People were invited to take anything they wanted from the store but they had to leave something in return. There was no imposition of equivalence, no price; people could take what they wanted and leave what they felt like.
That was how it was supposed to work. The problem was, I was involved. Even though, along with Shepard and my mates, I had come up with the idea, a gentle examination of consumerism in the very heart of the problem, I was incapable of behaving in the detached and objective manner that a social experiment such as this required. I was worse, in fact, than that lunatic Professor Zimbardo, who conducted the Stanford prison experiment from the hardly neutral post of prison warden. I jokingly criticized him earlier in the book without acknowledging that I’ve committed a similar transgression.
Within seconds of the shop’s ostentatious opening—we had brown paper ripped down from the shopfront windows by models—I was carrying on like a fastidious little capitalist, sticking my nose into every transaction, barking at the “staff,” and secretly trying to put aside Cameron Diaz’s bikini. I was like Arkwright from Open All Hours—or J.R. from Dallas, if you’re American. It says much of our two nations that those two figures are comparable.
I was completely incapable of behaving in the Zen and nonjudgmental manner that the experiment demanded if it were to be valid. It brought out the very worst in me. I hated the fact that someone could bring in an old tennis ball they’d found in a dog park and swap it for my ex-wife’s frock. I completely forgot the point of the experiment: to see if people would behave fairly if given the option. I was incapable of letting it be.
I recall reducing one poor woman to tears as she tried to swap a hairbrush for Iron Mike Tyson’s toaster. It was a shambles. Loads of TV people turned up to see me in a tight yellow Shepard-designed T-shirt, frolicking with the models and bickering with the staff about flexitime.
I frog-marched some poor woman to a nearby jeweler’s to see if the diamond ring she was trying to swap for one of Shaquille O’Neal’s big shoes was legit (How many of those things did he give out? They’re everywhere). This completely violated the idea of trust, which was meant to be at the heart of the concept.
The only thing the experiment proved is that I should never be allowed to run a shop. More broadly, it indicated that we need to safeguard against domineering individuals tyrannizing systems designed for the community.
Here are some further co-op guidelines that, if deployed, may have prevented the Buy Love Here disaster:
“Co-operatives are based on the values of self-help, self-responsibility, democracy, equality, equity, and solidarity. In the tradition of their founders, co-operative members believe in the ethical values of honesty, openness, social responsibility, and caring for others.”
Sounds a bit airy-fairy, but these ideas would’ve prevented me squirreling away the donated offcuts of well-meaning celebrities for some imagined reason.
This is all we need to know to run a co-op:
“1. Voluntary and Open Membership
Co-operatives are voluntary organizations, open to all persons able to use their services and willing to accept the responsibilities of membership, without gender, social, racial, political, or religious discrimination.”
Voluntary? Do we get paid for working in these places or what?
“2. Democratic Member Control
Co-operatives are democratic organizations controlled by their members, who actively participate in setting their policies and making decisions. People serving as elected representatives are accountable to the membership. In primary co-operatives, members have equal voting rights (one member, one vote) and co-operatives at other levels are also organized in a democratic manner.”
Okay, so I suppose we could vote on whether or not to make money. See? I’ve gone into a capitalist frenzy and we’re only on point 2.
“3. Member Economic Participation
Members contribute equitably to, and democratically control, the capital of their co-operative. At least part of that capital is usually the common property of the co-operative.”
I see. We have to foster a different attitude to property. It’s hard when you’ve spent your whole life being defined by stuff, logos, and brands to step back from the ideology of consumption and remember that what we were trying to access through these acquisitions was a sense of fulfillment better delivered through belonging and community.
“4. Autonomy and Independence
Co-operatives are autonomous, self-help organizations controlled by their members. If they enter into agreements with other organizations, including governments, or raise capital from external sources, they do so on terms that ensure democratic control by their members and maintain their co-operative autonomy.”
So there is opportunity for growth and collaboration but within democratic and responsible guidelines. I’m beginning to see that these principles are explicitly designed to inhibit predatory people like me.
“5. Education, Training, and Information
Co-operatives provide education and training for their members, elected representatives, managers, and employees so they can contribute effectively to the development of their co-operatives. They inform the general public—particularly young people and opinion leaders—about the nature and benefits of co-operation.”
This model is designed to perpetuate further co-operatives. I expect the entrepreneurial spirit could still thrive but not at the expense of more-important collective values.
“6. Co-operation among Co-operatives
Co-operatives serve their members most effectively and strengthen the co-operative movement by working together through local, national, regional, and international structures.”
Daniel Pinchbeck was talking about how these kinds of organizations could now communicate and collaborate on a global level using the incredible technological advances of the last few decades. Now, though, it would benefit us all, not just an elite, and with the removal of dumb ideas that increase pollution and waste, like those bloody jet-setting apples.
This co-operative model—in conjunction with localized farming freed from oppressive global trade tariffs, as explained by Helena Norberg-Hodge—would improve life remarkably for us by creating job opportunities and autonomy and wealth and leisure—and for the planet, mostly because we’d stop that mad international waxed-apple ricochet.
“7. Concern for Community
Co-operatives work for the sustainable development of their communities through policies approved by their members.”
The values of community development, democracy, and opportunity are emptily bandied about from politicians’ mouths every time I see them on my telly.
They’re forever up on podiums, thumb on top of index finger, like Clinton was taught to do, telling us they want us to have opportunities and build communities and participate in democracy. Telling me I’m irresponsible for not voting. Gloating that they’re participating by door-stopping and flesh-pressing and press-fleshing and baby-kissing. As soon as the red light goes off, their expressions change and they go back to their true agenda: meeting the needs of big business. It isn’t even their fault; it’s a systemic corruption that they unavoidably serve.
By the time you get to be an MP, you’ve spent so long on your knees, sluicing down acrid mouthfuls of Beelzebub’s cum, that all you can do is cough up froth.
We can’t blame them or even condemn them; we just have to ignore them.
Elsewhere in the world, modest versions of these ideas are already implemented. Whether it’s Portugal, where drug users are no longer pointlessly criminalized; or Switzerland, where democracy is already more inclusive and referenda on civil issues a regular occurrence; or Iceland, where corrupt bankers were booted out and told to sling their hook re bailouts; or Germany, where large companies, including Bayern Munich FC, have workers—and, in that case, fans—on the board of directors.
It’s worth noting that
Iceland—y’know, Björk, aurora borealis—Iceland in 2008 had a Revolution. They peacefully overthrew their government precisely because of the financial piracy and debt enslavement which the rest of the world continues to be tortured by. They did this by mass civil disobedience and the replacement of their corrupt parliamentary system with an assembly of representatives taken from the population. Not people who’d been conditioned and groomed to compliantly abide by the system that exploits them.
They refused to pay back the international debt they were told they owed, and because they were unified, there was nothing anyone could do to stop them. If it worked for them, it can work for us.
These modest measures are working. These suggestions don’t just amount to “play nice,” like some equal-opportunity PC crap to hold out a hand to the disadvantaged; they work better. The German economy is the strongest in Europe, perhaps because its workforce feels invested in its efforts, instead of trolling around like eunuch mannequins, castrated and hopeless, waiting for a two-week holiday.
What we must now demand is a radically altered society. We’ve gone way off track, put some absurd people and institutions in charge of our planet, and it’s time for radical change. That change cannot come from within the system. The successes I’ve listed above are improvements, and improvements are better than a kick in the balls from Bobby Charlton, but I think we can aim higher than incremental change or modest reform. I think we’d all be a bit disappointed if all this talk of utopia, ditching capitalism, and Revolution boiled down to: “We want to be a bit more like Germany”—fuck that.
Remember, we have no choice; there are ecological imperatives that have done our thinking for us. The planet is in trouble; there has never in all the history of our dopey, lovely species been a time of such inequality. The time for change is now. Will that change be delivered by David Cameron or Ed Miliband or Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama? Of course not. Look at them, just look at them; you’re not an idiot, you can see what they are; look at their eyes. They are all avatars of the same neoliberal concept, part of the problem, not the solution.
Revolution Page 22
