By Kevin D.
Williamson
Tuesday, July
20, 2021
Your local 7-Eleven is a very different
place at 7 a.m. than at 11 p.m. or 7 p.m. I
worked the overnight shift at a 7-Eleven for a while — way back in ye olden
days before the normalization of vagrancy transformed every commercial
establishment from Starbucks to 7-Eleven and every public place from parks to
busy intersections into makeshift homeless shelters and psych wards — and even
in a relatively sleepy college town, things got pretty weird around
3 a.m. on Saturday. When the bartenders say, “You don’t have to go
home, but you can’t stay here,” some of those people end up at 7-Eleven.
But 7 a.m. on a Monday is a
different scene altogether. The people who work for a living are up-and-at-’em
and in want of coffee. My neighborhood is in that stage of gentrification where
you can’t afford to buy a house here anymore, but you’re still five miles from
the nearest Starbucks, and the people who work in your more classic
clock-punching type jobs don’t much hit the local hipster café, with its oat
milk and vegan pastries.
There was a bit of a line at 7-Eleven on
Monday, and I overheard a bit of conversation between the two women behind me.
One was telling the other that she expected a busy day at work, because she was
going to be updating some spreadsheets for her employer, which, she said, takes
all day. When she started the job, she said, she didn’t know what Excel was,
and she told her friend that the first time her employer had asked her if she
knew how to work with spreadsheets, she thought they were having a conversation
about bed-linens. She learned how to use the program from YouTube videos. It
was impossible to miss her pride in this. A couple of years ago, she didn’t
know how to work with spreadsheets, and now she does, and she has a different
kind of job and, to some related extent, a different kind of life. Her world
got a little bigger and a little richer. She deserves to be proud.
That’s the part we should pay more
attention to in our debates about employment and labor policy.
Of course, it is good — and necessary —
that people use their time and energy doing economically productive work. We
all thrive or starve together. You know about the guy who tried to make himself
a sandwich? He ground wheat into flour, milked a cow and made his own cheese,
made salt from seawater, etc. It took him
half a year and cost $1,500. The same
guy spent four grand making a suit. And though he endeavors to make these items
“from scratch,” he doesn’t really — not until he is making his own tools out of
iron he mined with his own hands. The division of labor is what makes
civilizations work in physical terms. The more efficient the use of labor — human
action guided by human intelligence is the most precious of all resources — the
more prosperous your society is.
And it also is good — and necessary —
that people earn income from doing productive work. Earning a living not only
allows people to take care of themselves and their families (and their
communities) in their material needs but also allows them to do so in a way
that gives them a measure of independence: The client who is forever reliant
upon a patron for his daily bread is never really free, never really at liberty
in his own life. That’s a big part of the difference between being a very
highly skilled (or simply in-demand) worker vs. one who is more easily
replaced: You have more choices about how you work, when you work, where you
work, with whom you work, and for what you’ll work. That, in turn, gives you
more choices about everything from where you live to how your children are
educated. This makes people more satisfied about their situation and more
confident in their ability to sustain and improve it.
But it is also good — and necessary —
that this is something that in most situations people earn themselves. We could
give people more choices about things like where they live and how their
children are educated by simply giving them money. And, in some cases, that’s
what we should be doing: There are people with serious disabilities, children
and elderly people without competent families to care for them, and other
classes of people who will in almost any decent modern society be provided for
at some level through public expenditure. But it is a mistake to treat people
as though they are disabled or incompetent simply because they are poor,
unskilled, or not especially well-educated. Of course, we could maintain such
people in some kind of public dependency indefinitely — we are a very rich
society with great resources. But at a certain point, we aren’t doing people
any favors by doing them favors — we are instead denying them the opportunity
to become free and happy in a way that they cannot be as dependents.
Arthur Brooks, the great apostle of
“earned success,” notes research showing that people are happier when they feel successful
at work irrespective of income. “The opposite of earned success,”
he writes, “is ‘learned helplessness,’ a term coined by Martin Seligman, the
eminent psychologist at the University of Pennsylvania.”
It refers
to what happens if rewards and punishments are not tied to merit: People simply
give up and stop trying to succeed.
During
experiments, Mr. Seligman observed that when people realized they were
powerless to influence their circumstances, they would become depressed and had
difficulty performing even ordinary tasks. In an interview in the New
York Times, Mr. Seligman said: “We found that even when good things
occurred that weren’t earned, like nickels coming out of slot machines, it did
not increase people’s well-being. It produced helplessness. People gave up and
became passive.”
The urgent political issue raised by
Seligman’s research is control. We live in an increasingly complex,
globalized world in which the ever-more-sophisticated division of labor leaves
humanity as a whole radically better off — by almost any measure — while providing outsized rewards to a relatively narrow set of
skills and cognitive abilities that are not evenly distributed and that are
not earnable, which complicates the issue of earned success. There
are many people who have the skills and talent to be successful entrepreneurs,
venture capitalists, technologists, entertainers, cultural innovators, etc. And
there is no reliable way to say with confidence who has those abilities.
But most people don’t have those skills and talents and cannot
acquire them. They experience the economy most intensely as something that
happens to them — or something that is done to them — and economic changes very
often are a source of anxiety and personal upheaval. And there is no sharp
divide between the personal and the professional: Researchers have found that a
man is more likely to end up in divorce court after losing a job than after an
episode of marital infidelity.
The favorite bromides of the populist Left
are like the favorite bromides of the populist Right in that they promise to
give people who feel powerless more control over economic tides: For Democrats,
that means minimum-wage rules, entrenching the power of labor unions, using the
tax code to discourage offshoring and imports, etc., while for Republicans that
means tariffs, entrenching the power of market incumbents, using the tax code
to discourage offshoring and imports, etc. These policies make more sense if
you think about them not as economics but as psychotherapy.
We have in some sense been here before:
During the rapid 19th-century transformation of the U.S. economy from a largely
agricultural one to a largely industrial one, ownership of wealth became
more concentrated — and wealth inequality was much
more pronounced among industrial workers than among agricultural workers, more
pronounced in the cities than in the countryside, and more pronounced among
black Americans than among whites — it was more pronounced where the innovation
was, where the change was happening. The post–Civil War pattern retraced the
post-Revolution pattern: The Revolutionary War was an economic catastrophe for
the colonists. Before the war, scholars estimate, colonial
households had on average higher incomes than did English households, even when
the average included slaves —
and, on top of that, the same scholars calculate that New England had less
economic equality than any other similarly developed society in the world. The
war was a serious setback, but the American economy grew dramatically after
independence — and wealth inequality increased, too, especially in the South.
Economic revolutions produce outsized growth, and the fruits of that growth
accrue disproportionately to those who are closer to the edges of innovation.
You could still make a good living selling horse tackle in 1903, but not the
kind of fortune that Henry Ford was about to make. Many businesses have greatly
expanded their operations by selling on Amazon. You can make a lot of money
doing that — but not the kind of money you make by starting Amazon.
This isn’t true only of celebrity
entrepreneurs such as Jeff Bezos — it is also true, and in some senses more
significant, among workers who are simply a few degrees of separation closer to
them. And that is where there is a kind of inequality-multiplier effect: If you
have some resources (savings, well-off parents, a high-income spouse), some
skill or some education that gives you a degree of confidence about your future
prospects, then you can take some risks: an unpaid internship, a low-paying entry-level
job in a field with lots of upward mobility, starting a business or going to
work for a new business that is still a little wobbly, etc. Seattle has a fair
number of millionaires who got rich by doing an ordinary job at Microsoft in
the 1980s for subpar wages and equity that turned out to be worth a fortune but
could have ended up being worth nothing. It is a lot easier to take a chance
like that if your Plan B is reasonably solid. If you are young Bill Gates or
young Mark Zuckerberg, failure means . . . going back to Harvard.
Helping people on the margins to achieve
the real and lasting happiness that comes with earned success and helping them
to acquire the confidence and the resources to take on new challenges and try
new things should be the fundamental pillars of conservative economic policy.
Part of that is being realistic about the likely paths to success for people
who are not going to get a STEM degree from a four-year university. Our
national failure to pay serious attention to the interests of these Americans
is both a product of a key cultural failure — the generally unstated belief
that people who do non-glamorous jobs are losers and victims — and a
contributor to that failure. Trying to push people into college when their real
interests and abilities lie elsewhere not only sets them up for failure, it
needlessly puts the stink of failure on their likeliest roads to success.
On the left, they used to like to mock
conservative economic policy as a man in a top hat and monocle telling a poor
man, “Get a job!” On the right,
now, some have adopted the same line of criticism, mocking the Republican Party
as a bunch of out-of-touch company men advising the young and the struggling, “Learn to code!” But “Learn to code!” is great advice for some
people, and “Get a job!” is in
many cases exactly the right course of action. It is certainly more sensible
than, say, “Artificially inflate the
prices of raw materials and see what that does to factory wages,” or, “You can’t do anything to help yourself — it’s
all those rascally Chinese!”
“Get
a job!”
Hell, yes. Shout it from the rooftops.
Being good at something challenging and making a living at it makes people
happy. It’s not all there is to life, and it’s not for everybody. But it’s for
a lot of us.
No comments:
Post a Comment