Category: Economy & Values

In looking at life, I’ve realised I tend to view things over a foundation of social morality or individual ethics. My concerns – as explored in The value of each human being or How many aren’t well-represented? – lean toward an affirmation of human worth alongside a desire to understand what lies beneath our shared systems and values. My other guiding principle being truth: wanting to see the reasons behind things, and be sure they’re wise. That’s just me, in a way, but I mention it here as it’s something I truly struggle with in the world around me.

Within modern life, an intrinsic sense of morality doesn’t seem that evident in the face of scientific or economic modes of thinking. More often I notice a “because we can” mentality of doing what’s broadly tolerated or encouraged socially and legally; or a “looking out for yourself” attitude that presumably arises from Darwinian notions of individual advancement. Although, at times, a new moral conversation seems to be seeking a voice, as in Empathy in a world that happily destroys.

It’s an interesting question: what is right or wrong, both in principle and in action? How do our intentions, thoughts, words, and behaviours impact others and shape things around us?

In that light, I read an article recently that essentially recast our evolution from the perspective of economics, power and human utility; concluding that scientific advancements might render most of us “useless”. It painted a bleak picture of a future to be feared, where survival hinged on the goodwill of a few. Another article suggested that as science and statistics make correlations between lifestyle and health clearer, people may come to judge those not embracing wellness industries; that collective systems of care may be resented by those making larger contributions.

Both looked at collective human existence, contributions we make, and how we are valued; and, in both, ‘reason’ overshadowed other ways of seeing. The past can surely be seen in terms of money and power, but is it right to completely delete social morality from the equation? Are human ideals truly only now seen as a veneer for material, selfish desires? And, because logical evidence exists, does that mean we’re right to condemn those who don’t heed logic over the psychological or socioeconomic conditioning of their personal lives?

I could talk of how these trends of thought turn us against one another; using our social and cultural inclinations, such as our innate desire to belong and our fear of being deemed a burden, in a way that supports certain systems. I could speak of humanity as a whole, and our responsibility to act based on mutual concern within the societies we sustain.

Because ideas matter, and so does the thinking behind them (as argued in Writings on Education, a post very relevant here). And, to my mind, logical thought may well pose the greater risk for our future, in that it often seems to undermine what indeed sets us apart from machines: our humanity.

I once read an interview with someone working in the field of sustainable design; and he was saying how of course it would be great if products could be made to last using sustainable resources and so on, but that it didn’t work as a business model. Which seems true enough: modern businesses need an ongoing market so there needs to be change, whether that’s through ageing materials or dated designs. So we have these creative industries churning out new looks each year, each season, each month.

As I wrote in Values and the economic, I just wonder at the deeper wisdom of all this. If a system requires novelty and consumption in order to sustain itself, and therefore cultivates this mind-set of trends, identity and belonging; then how can we avoid creating waste or draining resources? Is the notion of sustainable design more one of window-dressing, that appeals to certain values but ultimately doesn’t attempt to redress the fundamental problem? And do we truly “need” these things, or are these largely manufactured desires that feed on our social desire to belong?

It’s an interesting scenario, and one that ties in with both Relating to cultural benchmarks and How many things are cycles (we could break) in the sense of how culture blends with economics. As humans, it seems we want to belong and find our place in society; we want to relate ourselves to the options presented, crafting an identity and finding personal meaning in the eyes of others and relative to the cultural images surrounding us. There’s a beautiful magic there, but I do wonder to what extent this very human process is being exploited and the needs of the psyche being directed toward the material world of things.

Increasingly, it’s becoming established that “our look” (be that our shoes, interiors, or lifestyle) defines us; thereby locking our sense of identity into our position as consumers. How you decorate your home declares who you are; so keeping a perfectly functioning and good quality kitchen becomes unthinkable because it’s not quite “you”. This natural desire to express our selves has somehow become a fuel for consumerism.

And my intention here isn’t to be critical, because it seems humans are these delightfully unique, creative, and social creatures who long to express who they are and share in this process of exploration and definition. To me, that’s part of humanity and connects in with what I was saying in What makes a good life. But equally, with that post, there’s a question of how we balance our values, our priorities, our needs, and our consequences. What systems are we sustaining – and, in a sense, creating – with the choices we make?

As I’ve found myself saying elsewhere: is it possible to shape a more human system out of the world around us? Do we have little choice but to accept a version of this model whereby we seek identity in products that aren’t made to last, or could these things happen differently?

I essentially want to look here at cycles within Western society in terms of economic and consumer activity. Starting from the root of the word as ‘household management’, I tend to view economic activity as housekeeping or the process of managing natural resources.

It seems bizarre how even fairly recently “waste” as we know it did not really exist. It seems that food was grown fairly locally and bought in its rawer, unpackaged state. Clothing and possessions were fewer and treated with greater reverence and care. Property was maintained and designed to last. Materials were generally natural and could be repurposed – wood, metal, natural fibres. Then suddenly we are all generating vast amounts of waste, and in forms that cannot be reintegrated into nature. It’s quite an incredible shift really, and surely one that must be actively sustained by standards within the business world.

As an aside here, the book “Cradle to Cradle” by William McDonough & Michael Braungart is fascinating and challenging in this regard; and this topic also links with my recent post on “Small is Beautiful” regarding our treatment of natural capital and the principles underpinning our actions.

I also find it interesting that we demean those who perform the ‘menial tasks’ within our system, such as maintenance or production, when to me there is a real importance in taking responsibility for the full reality of a situation. In maintaining something, you gain valuable insight into the material reality of our choices: Is something nearly impossible to maintain in its intended state? Does it require unnecessarily chemical products or time to clean? Does it age well or seem designed to do the opposite? To me, it’s one of the contradictions of our society that we embrace consumerism but do not want to look at the consequences and learn from them. We get someone else to sweep it under the carpet.

As with most things, I see a real truth behind all this – that we are not looking entirely consciously at the system we are embracing; that we are not fully taking responsibility for the less glamorous realities of how it all works. Yes, we can make all manner of things. Yes, there are few limits to what we can envisage and create. Except the material limits of our ecosystem, the human limits of social inequality, the ethical limits of the world we leave behind us. Hopefully once the excitement of material indulgence fades we will begin to look and act more responsibly in terms of how we manage these things and the full implications of the choices we are making.

It seems in life that there are two sets of values: the economic and all the others (such as beauty, ethics, environmental concern, legacy); and it seems that economic factors tend to override most other concerns at the end of the day. Rather than looking at what’s being created on a wider scale, money and profit are often the ‘bottom line’ of good decisions in modern life.

So someone could be planning something that ethically, environmentally, aesthetically doesn’t add up to much but if on paper it stands to make a profit or represents a wise use of resources, then it’s understood and praised as such. Whereas if someone was acting out of concerns for beauty, longevity, environmental integration but the project may make less profit as a result of factoring in those concerns, then it’s likely seen as unwise or an indulgence.

And I just wonder at the extent to which economic concerns ever really add to the overall value of human activity. It might be wise, it might be scalable, it might be efficient and cost effective but where will these materials be in fifty years and can the impact to the environment be genuinely mitigated (rather than simply ‘balancing the books’ in terms of hypothetical cost)?

Not to say there aren’t projects where other values are considered, although it does seem these are often a luxury or a lifestyle choice rather than a widespread shift in values. We don’t seem to be in a place yet where values are being consistently defended and acted upon, yet the environment around us displays our values loud and clear.

I lose count of the times something beautiful that speaks volumes about the intentions of the people who created and tended it has been destroyed in this way. Old trees that add to the neighbourhood and local ecosystem are cut down presumably because maintaining them is considered too great a cost – trees that simply cannot be replaced in a person’s lifetime. Old houses built with a beautiful balance of space, form and grace that are torn down because the plot can be maximised for ‘modern’ dwellings where people are made to live with much less space, privacy and workmanship.

And, on a more everyday level, the “economic” choice is often one that comes at a great cost – the cheapest shoes, clothing and items are often so because they are mass produced without concern for environmental waste, the long-term viability and impact of manmade materials, or the human experiences linked with them. I struggle to imagine the vast mountains of discarded products that can never be reintegrated into natural lifecycles, and this process doesn’t seem to be slowing.

It seems money stands against these other, human concerns and our way of thinking seems to say that you cannot make a decision based on this other reasoning where the economic outcome is less favourable. But I wonder what degree of wisdom can ever be incorporated in a system that approaches things that way.