Where Do You Stand on the Scale From Self-Preservation to Selfishness?
Fairness, economics, and humanity.
I once had a boss, we’ll call him Jim, who always thought about himself first. And of others only when forced to.
Jim always spoke more than his allotted time, changed meetings’ agendas to discuss his issues, skipped the line at lunch because he was in a hurry, finished the coffee pot without making any new, fired people no matter their circumstances, took credit for the wins, and blamed others for the losses. Jim paid attention to people only when they were above him in the hierarchy.
Jim was selfish and successful (in his career) because he took advantage of other people’s selflessness.
Usually, human interactions are a game of tit-for-tat where if I do something good for you, you will do something good for me, and we’ll keep exchanging favors till the end of time. But, as we all know from experience, it’s possible to give a bit less and take a bit more.
If I systematically give 49% and take 51%, people won’t complain because it’s not worth bothering for such a little difference.
The problem is that some people will keep on testing the limit. If 49% works, maybe 48% will also work. What about 45/55? And 40/60?
With people like Jim, once they understand a 40/60 scheme works with many people, they keep pushing. There’s a point where people break, but it’s further than we think.
In a psychological experiment, researchers paired the participants, gave one of them $10, and asked this person to decide how to share the $10 with the second participant. The catch was that if the other refused the offer, they would both get $0.
A fair offer would be to share 50/50, or $5 each. The other participant would accept it, and they would both leave $5 richer.
A rational offer would be to share 90/10, or keep $9 and give the second participant $1 because, rationally, it makes sense for the second participant to accept the $1 since it’s better than $0. But it doesn’t work like that. In the experiment, most people refused the $1 offer because they felt cheated.
This experiment is called the ultimatum game, and results show an offer between 40% and 50% is almost always accepted. “When the offer falls to 20%, it is rejected about half the time.”
Real life is very different from the setting of a psychological experiment. If someone has financial problems and doesn’t have enough money to put food on the table for their children, they will accept a 90/10 offer. They will even agree to a 99/1 split because they don’t have a choice.
Most people would say it’s not fair. But the people offering 1% and keeping 99% could argue the other person wouldn’t even get the 1% without them. They could present themselves as the good guys for creating jobs and giving poor people the opportunity to work.
One could reply they also happen to own the houses where the poor people live and the farms producing the food, and all these factors force the poor person to accept their unfair offer. The poor have zero choice and, more importantly, no possibility to show their creative sides and launch their competing businesses. The wealthy aren’t so much creating jobs as they’re creating a system where they are at the top, and everybody else can’t do anything but comply with their rules.
Billionaires and private equity funds come to mind.
Real life is more complex, and it’s a spectrum. If you’re too unfair with people, you expose yourself to getting your head cut as the French did in 1789. But if you say everybody should have the same and are ready to use violence to enforce equality, you could end up with Joseph Stalin and 20 million people dead.
We generally accept that someone taking the risk to create a business should get the opportunity to enrich themselves. They buy products (raw materials or human brainpower), transform them, and sell the result with a margin.
Many people think the margin is established based on fairness, but it’s not. The margin is not derived from adding a reasonable amount to the total cost of producing the goods.
It’s based on what customers are willing to pay.
Let’s take the example of fast fashion.
Almost by definition, people in rich countries have more money, and people in poorer countries accept lower salaries.
There’s a business opportunity there.
Let’s say the price of fashion is usually 100 in the rich countries. Thanks to the cheap salaries you give poor people, you can produce it for 80 and make money. But you can go further. What would happen if you created it for 40? The quality would be lower, of course. But what would rich people do?
Would they buy one item for 40 instead of the one they bought at 100?
Or would they buy three items for 40 because it’s so cheap?
Experience from fast fashion shows rich people buy three items for 40 (and therefore spend more) because it’s cheaper. They also don’t wear them because they don’t need so many pieces of clothing.
Even better, with well-thought marketing campaigns, you can make rich people buy more clothes they won’t wear.
In cruder terms, you can make rich people buy cheap shit they don’t need by luring them with incredible discounts and other marketing tactics.
One of these tactics is to produce a lot of cheap shit. Every day, new models appear that people “need” to buy. Novelty is attractive.
One of the reasons this can work is that the company and the clients do not pay the environmental cost of producing loads of garments and accessories that end up in the trash without ever being used. The collectivity covers this cost.
Some call it privatizing profits and socializing losses.
Different perspectives
One way to look at this is:
Rich people are satisfied because they can buy fashionable products for cheap.
Poor people are content because they have a job.
The fast-fashion companies are gleeful because their shareholders make money.
Another way:
Rich people are addicted to a consuming hell, buying things they don’t need at significant environmental and human costs. But they don’t rebel against it because the consequences are long-term and difficult to identify. And many rich people think they’re not concerned anyway.
Companies give 10 to poor people in the form of salaries, 40 to rich people in the form of discounts, and keep 50 because they have the (lightly bridled) power to do so.
And when companies are big enough, it’s much harder to prevent them from acting selfishly. Individuals don’t have enough negotiation power. Only associations, communities, or governments can play the game of tit-for-tat with corporations.
Conclusion
It’s a spectrum. We all stand at some point on the scale ranging from self-preservation to selfishness.
I believe the best we can do is see the bigger perspective, choose accordingly, and lead the necessary changes by example.
In cruder terms, if we stop buying cheap shit that is bad for our mental health, our planet, and the people living on it, companies will stop producing them.
Author’s note:
I made up the numbers without references for illustrative purposes. I believe they give a fair idea of what’s happening, but I could be wrong.
I also made up Jim. I once had a boss that didn’t exist but was useful to start a story and get the readers emotionally involved. “Jim” — the name hasn’t been changed since he never lived — always thought about himself first. And of others only when forced to.
Here's a game of tit-for-tat we could play:
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:D
You like your own shit? Holy shit.
Great article though. Your description of late stage capitalism is apt, but I think it's worse than that. The wealthiest corporations don't add any value. They just buy companies that make things (or not - they buy each other) and skim profits. Somebody has to pay for that, in higher prices, lower pay, and lost jobs. They replace management on the theory that the original management might actually give a shit about their workers. Pitchfork time?