| There's a conventional doctrine about the era that
we are entering and the promise that it is supposed to afford. In
brief, the story is that the good guys won the cold war shoot-out and
they're firmly in the saddle. There may be some rough terrain ahead,
but nothing that they can't handle. They ride off into the sunset,
leading the way to a bright future, based on the ideals that they have
always cherished but have not always been able to protect -- democracy
and free markets and human rights...
The reality, however, is very different. Power is increasingly
concentrated in unaccountable institutions, and the rich and powerful
are no more willing to submit themselves to market disciplines or
popular pressures than they ever have been in the past. Let's begin
with human rights, because they are the easiest place to start: they
are actually codified in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights,
passed unanimously by the United Nations General Assembly in December
1948. In the United States, there has been a good deal of very
impressive rhetoric about how we stand for the Universal Declaration,
and how we defend the principle of universality against backward,
third-world peoples who plead cultural relativism.
But the rhetoric is rarely besmirched by any reference to what the
Universal Declaration actually says.
Article 25, for example, states: "Everyone has the right to a
standard of living adequate for the health and well being of himself
and his family" -- this is the terminology of 194 remember --
"including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary
social services, and the right to secure that in the event of
unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack
of livelihood."
How are these principles upheld in the richest country in the
world, with absolutely unparalleled advantages and no excuses for not
completely satisfying them? The US has the worst record on poverty in
the industrialized world. Tens of millions of people are hungry every
night, including millions of children who are suffering from third
world levels of disease and malnutrition. In New York City, one of the
richest cities in the world, 40 per cent of children live below the
poverty line, deprived of minimal conditions that offer some hope for
escape from misery, destitution and violence.
This is, moreover, just one part of a general worldwide
catastrophe. Unesco estimates that about 500,000 children die every
year as a result of the debt repayment burden alone. Debt repayment
means that commercial banks made bad loans to their favorite
dictators, and those loans are now being paid by the poor, who of
course had absolutely nothing to do with the process. Meanwhile, the
World Health Organization estimates that 11 million children die every
year from easily treatable diseases. The World Health Organization
describes it as "a silent genocide": it could be stopped for pennies a
day. And Unesco estimates that the human cost of what is called
"economic reform" in Russia has been some 500,000 excess deaths a year
since 1989. There are comparable figures for elsewhere in eastern
Europe.
Let's turn now to Article 23 of the Universal Declaration. It
states: "Everyone has the right to work, to just and favorable
conditions of work, and to protection against unemployment, with
remuneration ensuring for himself and his family an existence worthy
of human dignity, supplemented if necessary by other means of social
protection." Furthermore, "everyone has the right to form and join
trade unions, for protection of his interests."
To take the last point first, in the US, technically, everyone has
the right to join a trade union. But the reality is quite different.
In 1992, the International Labor Organization, which rarely has an
unkind word for its paymasters, called on the US to conform to
international labor standards on "permanent replacement workers,"
which were then violated only by the US and South Africa in the
industrial world. "Permanent replacement workers," otherwise known as
scabs, are those brought in to replace sacked unionized workers to
break strikes: international labor law condemns the practice, but it
is condoned in the US. There was an article in Business Week
last week describing some of the consequences of the American state's
vicious anti-labor activities. Illegal firings for union organizing
have gone up sixfold, it reckoned, in the past 25 years. In
particular, thousands of union organizers have been illegally fired
since the start of Ronald Reagan's presidency in 1981.
According to the US Labor Department, the destruction of the unions
as been the main factor in the decline of real wages that has
continued since the Reagan era. Health and safety standards in the
workplace have also deteriorated: there are laws, but they're simply
not enforced, so the number of industrial accidents has risen sharply
in the past ten years. Then there is the effect of the decline of
unions on democracy: the unions are one of the few means by which
ordinary people can enter the political arena. Finally, there's a
psychological effect. The destruction of the unions is part of a much
more general effort to privatize aspirations, to eliminate solidarity,
the sense that we're all in it together, that we care for one another.
Let's go back to Article 23 again: "Everyone has a right to work."
The ILO has just published a report estimating the level of global
unemployment in January 1994 at about 30 per cent. That, it says
accurately, is a crisis worse than in the 1930s. Everywhere, there are
idle hands, and everywhere there is work to be done, but the economic
system is simply incapable of bringing them together.
In the US, of course, there is currently a recovery. But it's
remarkably sluggish, with less than a third of the job growth of
previous six recoveries. Furthermore, of the jobs that are being
created, an enormous proportion -- more than a quarter in 1992 -- are
temporary jobs, and most are not in the productive part of the
economy. Economists welcome this vast increase in temporary jobs as an
"improvement in the flexibility of labor markets." No matter that it
means that when you go to sleep at night you don't know if you're
going to have work the next morning -- it's good for profits, which
means that it's good for the economy.
Another aspect of the recovery is that people are working longer
for less money. The workload is continuing to increase, while wages
are continuing to decline -- which is unprecedented for a recovery. US
wages -- as measured by labor costs per unit output -- are now the
lowest in the industrial world, except for Britain. Having been the
highest in the world in 1985 (as one might expect in the world's
richest country), US labor costs are today 60 per cent lower than
Germany's and 20 per cent lower than Italy's. The Wall Street
Journal called this turnaround "a welcome development of
transcendent importance."
It is fashionable to claim that all this is simply the effect of
trade and automation, transmitted through "market forces," operating
rather like natural laws. In fact, the state has played a decisive
part in both trade and automation. Trade is massively subsidized,
particularly through manipulation of energy costs for transport: a
realistic assessment of the costs of trade would somehow have to
include, for example, a proportion of the costs of maintaining the US
military presence in the Middle East, a major purpose of which is to
keep oil prices within a particular range. Not too low, because the
oil companies need to make plenty of profit, but not too high because
trade has to be "efficient."
Similarly, for decades, automation has had to be developed in the
state sector (meaning, in the US, the military sector). In the 1950s,
for example, before computers were marketable, they were virtually 100
per cent supported by the taxpayer. The free enterprise system means
that the public bears the cost, and if anything comes out of it, it's
handed over to the corporations.
This is not to say that the state can control market forces. Here,
it is worth recalling, after Richard Nixon's death last month, his
demolition in the early 1970s of the Bretton Woods system for
regulating international currencies, in which the US served in effect
as international banker. One effect of the deregulation of currencies
was a huge increase of the size of capital and financial markets. And
the amount of capital transferred daily is increasing. It's probably
now about a trillion dollars a day -- again swamping governments.
There has also been a radical change in the nature of currency
transactions. According to John Eatwell, an economist at Cambridge
University, before Nixon dismantled the system, about 90 per cent of
international currency transactions were for long-term investment or
trade and about 10 per cent for speculation. Now there's a vastly
greater amount, and figures have reversed. It's 90 per cent for
speculation, and about 10 per cent for investment and trade. And this
appears to be a major factor in the decline of growth rates since the
early 1970s. A study published in The Wall Street Journal
a week or so ago estimated that about half the decline in growth rates
is due to the speculative capital. Bond holders want money to be
stable: they don't want growth because it might lead to inflation.
The increase in speculative capital means that it is now difficult
for a nation state -- even the US, the richest economy in the world --
to carry out even minimal economic planning. (For a third-world
country, the position is hopeless.) And the new GATT agreements are
designed to undercut the possibilities for planning even more, by
extending so-called liberalization to what they call services --
meaning that big Japanese, British and American banks can displace the
banks in smaller countries.
While capital is now highly mobile, labor is increasingly immobile
-- and that has immediate consequences. It means that it is easy to
shift production to low-wage, high-repression areas of the world with
low environmental standards. And it also makes it very easy to play
off one immobile national labor force against another, as happened
during the North American Free Trade Agreement debate in the US, for
example, when the media carefully focused on the argument that NAFTA
would mean jobs flowing from Mexico to the United States.
On the other hand, there was another point that just about
everybody agreed on across the board; that the effect of NAFTA would
be to cut wages in the United States for unskilled workers (a
technical term that means about 70 or 75 per cent of the workforce).
The agreement is expected to have the same effect in Canada and could
well cut wages in Mexico, although for different reasons. To cut
wages, you don't have to move manufacturing, you just have to be able
to threaten to do it. The threat alone is enough to lower wages and
increase temporary employment.
The shift from national economies to a single global economy also
has the effect of undermining functioning democracy. The mechanisms
are pretty obvious. Power is shifting into the hands of huge
transnational corporations and away from parliamentary institutions.
Meanwhile, there's a structure of governance that's coalescing around
these transnational corporations.
A couple of years back, the Financial Times described
this as "a de facto world government," including the World Bank and
the IMF, GATT, the World Trade Organization, the G7 Executive, and so
on. This has the very useful property that it removes power from
parliamentary institutions, which are considered dangerous, naturally,
because they might fall, at least partially, under the influence of
the rabble.
The Economist recently described how important it is
to keep policy "insulated from politics." If the policy is insulated
from politics, you can have democratic forms, certain that they're not
going to harm anything. The insulated technocrats can work for the
health of the economy in the technical sense of that term, meaning low
growth and low wages -- but high profits for that small section of the
world's population that already enjoys extreme wealth and privilege. |