Will We Get Fooled Again?

Most people see Karl Marx primarily as a communist thinker, and this does of course make a lot of sense. What is perhaps much less appreciated is that whereas he wasn’t a fan of capitalism, he still saw it as an improvement over its predecessor, feudalism, and a necessary stage in progress towards a communist utopia. This is also very important in how we view societies which have labelled themselves, or been labelled, communist. In this post, I intend to go into what Marx saw as positive about capitalism, and also the suggestion by many people today that we are not actually living in a capitalist society any more, but have returned to feudalism. In doing so, it might seem like I’m praising capitalism. I’m not. I’m just stating what Marx saw as positive about it.

Marx’s view of history, and this actually is substantially Friedrich Engels’ view, is that it shifts over to one side, then there’s a reaction and finally a synthesis arises out of both. This view is linked also to a fairly radical nineteenth century view of physics which later changed due to the advent of relativity, quantum mechanics and, in biology the New Synthesis. Unfortunately, the Soviet Union continued to prize dialectical materialism, which is the metaphysics behind Marxism, well into the twentieth century CE and as a result used Lysenko’s ideas about crop production and development, leading to famine. I have various thoughts about this which are not worth sharing here right now as I’m trying to stay focussed.

Before I go on, I want to outline the very clear line of progress Marx described in history. Economics and society evolve from feudalism into capitalism and then into communism, but the important thing about this with hindsight is that he saw the capitalist phase as a necessary social order before communism could emerge from it. Communism cannot, therefore, arise out of a feudal society. Russia and China were not really capitalist but feudal, and consequently the changes they underwent were not into communism, regardless of what they might say, but into capitalism. Communist rhetoric was used but although they may have attempted to impose something resembling it upon the countries concerned, there was no large industrial working class to organise and Marx would’ve predicted the next stage in those countries was not communism but capitalism. The other countries which became “communist” were spread from those pre-existing state capitalist countries. Marx probably envisaged the earliest communist revolutions occurring in the UK, Germany, the US and so forth, i.e. countries which were already fully capitalist, not in China or Russia. Finally on this point, the current “People’s Republic of China” has a stock market, which completely rules out the possibility of it being a communist country because it means goods are commodified. It’s impossible to have stocks without this. This is a definitional thing, not a political point. You can have various takes on this, including the idea that communism can never work, but the fact remains that China is necessarily not communist and Russia may have been communist for a short period of time ending by the end of the 1920s but Marx would’ve said it was impossible for it to be sustainably so, if it was at all. That is what Marxist theory actually says, and it said that before the Russian Revolution too. It isn’t changing the theory to fit the facts.

Nonetheless, counter-intuitive though it may seem, Marx did see capitalism as a good thing in relative terms, and also as temporarily necessary, mainly because it’s better than feudalism. Marx could be seen as largely morally sceptic, although he also contradicts himself about that. More specifically, he believed that one’s values were determined by one’s economic circumstances. Many say that they hate landlords but still want to be one and would behave exactly the same way if they became one. That’s Marx’s view. Therefore, in a way he could be said to be saying that capitalism isn’t evil at all. It’s just a phase society passes through as it progresses. I would also say that Marx does actually seem to care from time to time. It’s fair to say that Marx saw ethical values as determined by material conditions, so for instance he gets around the Kantian problem of universalism, where “what if everyone did the same?” is what determines right and wrong, leading to describing shoplifting food from a small greengrocer as either “depriving someone of their means of livelihood” or “providing food for one’s family” by saying it’s actually both, but means something apparently irreconcilably different to the bourgeoisie and the proletariat. However, he did also clearly show sympathy for the plight of the poorest in society, which looks to me like morality.

Specifically, capitalism is better than feudalism. Peasants are tied to the land and sold with it. A worker under capitalism is, legally speaking, free to leave their employer and do paid work for themselves or someone else. However, at least back in the day, they weren’t property owners in any substantial sense.

Due to everyone being tied down, including lords and ladies, royalty and so forth, feudalism is static. Nobody is socially mobile. You’re born into your station, live in it and die without changing it. It’s about subsistence for most people, and also tradition. Capitalism isn’t like that, at least in theory. In capitalism, production has been freed from this system and is able to produce things way beyond what anyone needs. It makes industrialisation possible, technological change is promoted and there’s large scale global trade. If someone has an idea in capitalist society, it’s much more likely to be realised than in feudalism, since in the latter case the chances are the person with the idea is working from dawn to dusk and won’t be able to communicate their idea to others who will be able to act on it.

Largely, feudalism operates locally and on a small scale, and is fragmented. You can raise and grow food on the local farm, but there’s no way you can go to a distant market and produce can’t usually be brought to you from across the globe. By contrast, the global economy means that people become more cosmopolitan and accepting of others, to some extent unifying the world, people are less parochial and the basis for a global community emerges.

Relationship-wise, feudalism is personal and that’s open to corruption. There’s the lord and the vassal, the master and the apprentice. There was also religious pressure to keep these in place and there was an unchanging hierarchy in place. More was going on between people than just money – it was all personal, like the relationship between children and parents. Under capitalism this changed to contractual obligations which were written down and quantifiable, which also made it possible for exploitation to be tracked by following the money. Prior to this, whereas there might have been a vague sense of injustice, though probably diverted by religious justifications and the kind of deference one might feel towards a father figure and in British society today still towards royalty for many people. This is very different from noticing how hard you’ve worked and how long your hours are while you have an actually countable sum of money in your pay packet each week or month. That focusses the mind on the inequality, which has now been largely converted into numbers.

Once all of these things are in place, and this is where it becomes clear Marx is talking about capitalism as a transitional state, the machinery exists to bring socialism about. There has to be a proper infrastructure to enable workers to travel to and from their workplaces. Workers mainly live in cities where they can become more aware of their conditions and act together to improve them. Also, the existence of extreme wealth becomes more visible and therefore imaginable to the working class. They’re more likely to ask why other people have got their money, i.e. the money they had taken off them as profit for the owners, and it makes it possible to imagine a society where conditions are much better and more equal. This last is of course a grudging acknowledgement which entails that it’s just a phase in Marx’s opinion, but the point is that all of these things become possible when they weren’t in feudalism.

To be honest, a lot of this seems quite questionable to me and I want to do two things with it. One is to point out ways in which feudalism actually scored over capitalism. Firstly local production and consumption are very much what we need right now considering the environmental problems caused by global trade, and it would also be good to have a more personal, though also equal, relationship with other people one works for. Secondly, I’ve long imagined that I might do better in a society where I have a set place and a role, and I haven’t been ambitious for a long time. However, that’s all very well to imagine, but it would depend on that role actually suiting someone. Otherwise it would mean being trapped in a job one hates, and that job incidentally could be Queen or King and one could still hate it.

However, I also have a couple of other questions about this. One is that of the spice trade, which also applies to the likes of precious metals. Spices were being grown in the Far East and South Asia for centuries and then traded with Europe, even the British Isles. There were monasteries and castles where ginger, cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg were all commonly used in cooking. This doesn’t correspond to the idea of local production and consumption painted above. The other is that peasants probably had more leisure time, or at least time off work, than factory workers, with the church imposing holidays and feast days. Work was also seasonal and there would’ve been times when it would’ve served no function and therefore wouldn’t’ve happened. These two phenomena are answered by Marx and Marxists. The spice trade was seen as the beginning of capitalism and as operating externally to the feudal system. It would still have been unfeasible for a peasant to buy a nutmeg at a local market. As for leisure time, the switch was from task orientation to time orientation, something which also connects to the infrastructure necessitated by capitalism and world trade in the form of railway timetables and navigation across oceans. Although peasants might have been freer in that sense, they would not have been able to improve their lot collectively, or at least they wouldn’t’ve done so because of other constraints, including religious and cultural ones. So it’s said, anyway.

So to reiterate, whereas Marx wasn’t exactly a fan of capitalism he did see it as progressive compared to feudalism. He saw progress as moving forward inevitably through feudalism and capitalism to communism, and his views also reflect the dynamism dialectical materialism sees as embedded in reality. Incidentally, it’s tempting to go on and on about dialectical materialism here but I’ll resist that. I’ve actually long thought that given the existence of the US Constitution, the fact that it’s a republic and so forth is a sign that it could’ve been expected to evolve into a communist society, and in fact that in the late nineteenth century it was probably the prime candidate for doing so. When people are genuinely patriotic about the freedom and democracy of the US, that anticipates its progress into communism, which is why it’s so bizarre that they have such a phobia of it.

Everyone reading this by now stands a good chance of being aware of Frank Herbert’s ‘Dune’ series, so forgive me if you’ve heard this in depth. My own experience is that I’ve read ‘Dune’ itself and later had my doubts about the quality of its sequels, so I didn’t read them, and also the Dune Encyclopedia. The David Lynch film is disappointing, there was also a fever dream by Jodorowsky the director trying to make a version which just failed because he was stoned all the time, and finally there’s the current cinematic adaptation which I again saw the first installment of and found disappointing, although that’s more me. It’s also a reaction to Asimov’s Foundation Trilogy and the main influence on the Star Wars franchise. Its relevance here is that it describes a future feudal society spanning the Galaxy. It’s fairly complex but breaks down as follows. The Landsraad is a conglomeration of great houses, families which run the Universe and jostle for position. They’re given fiefdoms over various worlds, such as House Atreides and Caladan. Each great house has a share in CHOAM, the overriding megacorporation that does everything except transport. There’s also the Spacing Guild, which operates a monopoly over space travel based on their navigators, the mentats, who I think use the spice melange and Holtzmann engines which enable travelling without moving. This can only be done by the mentats, who are sentient humans who are mutated by the spice, because of the Butlerian Jihad, which was fought over whether AIs should exist, ending in them being banned. The Spacing Guild is in partnership with CHOAM and move everything, or rather, ensure that things and people that start out in one place end up in another. The great houses have various degrees of power. The imperial house itself, House Corrino, attempts to maintain a monopoly on violence through highly trained soldiers called the Sardaukar, originating from the prison planet Salusa Secundus and keep everyone under control, or at least apparently do. House Atreides, however, have troops of their own which may compete successfully with the Sardaukar. The Atreides are also feuding with House Harkonnen. Behind all this is a quasi-religious order called the Bene Gesserit, an all-female group expert in manipulation, who are secretly working towards breeding a female Messiah over centuries from members of the great houses. The spice melange is found only on the planet Arrakis and has a similar role to fossil fuels in the real world. As well as enabling mentats to fold space and therefore “shorten the way”, melange is extremely addictive – stopping it kills you – enables certain people to see the future and extends lifespan. Many of the more powerful people in the great houses are on spice. Incidentally, this brings the book ‘Cyclonopedia‘ to mind, so maybe there’s a link there too.

All this is easy to translate into the real world, and seems to represent Herbert’s attempt to explore the possibility that the default state of human society is neither fully automated luxury gay space communism nor capitalism but in fact feudalism. Shorn of many of its more implausible elements, the ‘Dune’ universe does in fact seem to reflect one view of how society and economics do in fact operate today. For a long time, people have been talking about “late capitalism”, but I prefer to call it “mature capitalism”, in the sense that it’s a permanent economic and social order which will change only with our extinction, but in a way, maybe the term is accurate and capitalism is in fact coming to an end, but it isn’t being replaced by communism but by what Yanis Varoufakis calls “technofeudalism”. Maybe Marx was right in predicting the end of capitalism, but wrong about what it would become, and rather than being progressive, the world is actually slumping back into something resembling feudalism.

His idea goes like this:

In feudal times, land ownership and rent were the chief sources of wealth. Profit existed but it was less important, for instance it existed in the spice trade but wasn’t something the peasants could avail themselves of. Under capitalism, capitalists dominate the media, parties and banks, and in particular are expert at manufacturing public opinion and values, thereby bypassing democracy. Our current system is not based on profit but rent, i.e. there is limited access to resources not found in ownership. I’ve mentioned this before, but examples of how this happens are found in vehicle lease agreements and things like having to pay extra to turn on seat heating in BMWs – you already have the vehicle but have to subscribe for the right to warm your seats even though the facility to do so is already available. This is also found in the switch over to subscription models, such as the rental of various software packages. There’s also the cloud. We don’t own ebooks, TV programmes or music a lot of the time and the companies controlling them can simply withdraw the right to access them on a whim. If you make an app, Google Play, Apple and the Microsoft Store control access to it most of the time and the developers have to pay a subscription when in theory they could spread knowledge of it via other channels, but this is now difficult because of the next development, social media. The domination of the internet by social media is also akin to the peasants belonging to the landed gentry. It’s said that if you aren’t paying for something, it’s you who are being bought and sold, an older example being women in clubs being allowed in for free or given free drinks – this is because the club wants men to pay to get in and dance with and have sex with them. The same kind of situation exists today on Twitter, Facebook and so on. People spend most of their online time on these and streaming sites. Companies are no longer oriented towards making a profit, but make their money through subscription charges, also known as rent. Market dominance is more important than profit. It also means, practically, that money is constantly siphoned away from us to billionaires. Because it made no profit, Amazon paid no tax in Ireland, which would’ve been on profit, and deals have to be made by the producers of items to have the right to sell on Amazon, which is the main marketplace nowadays. This of course means they get their state-sponsored infrastructure, such as roads, for free because we pay for it. The same thing happens with Etsy. All this is why Varoufakis sees us as being in a new feudalism. In short, for Varoufakis there are no more open markets, but money is made instead by renting of closed digital estates. The Web used to be the Wild West but has now undergone enclosure like mediaeval land.

It isn’t just him either. There has also, for quite some time, been a view that we are entering the “New Middle Ages”, also known as Neo-Mediaevalism. This was an idea from the 1970s onward which reached its zenith in the ‘noughties. One distinctive thing about the actual Middle Ages was that it only applied to Europe after the collapse of the Roman Empire, an area which has also been referred to as Christendom, i.e. the Christian part of the world. It didn’t apply, for example, to the Mayan civilisation, Songhai Empire, Arab or Islamic world and so forth. Unlike that, though, the new Middle Ages applies to the whole human world, which may be important as it means there are no accessible geographical forces or assets outside it rendering it susceptible to change. No spice trade for example. In today’s world, Christendom is replaced by the New World Order, which shouldn’t be confused with the conspiracy theory. Today, the rest of the human world feels much more the influence of the US, for example. There are overlapping authorities as there were in Mediaeval Europe, but in this case they include multinationals, NGOs, those pursuing political ends violently without overt governmental permission, global trade and international organisations. This leads to a situation of various authorities to which one owes fealty, which might manifest itself, for example, in not having one’s employment rights honoured because one’s employer has more money and power than the government of one’s country. Instead of knights, we have military drones and instead of the Pope we have Elon Musk, but the power relations are the same. Instead of the Church and families having the power and money, it’s the likes of Jeff Bezos and social media. The lords own the platforms, such as Twitter, Amazon, Instagram, Facebook and Netflix, the vassals are the content creators (even this blog would count as one if it had more readers, so maybe I don’t want more readers), and the users are the peasants. People also settle back into what they idealise as a simpler place and time, when of course it really wasn’t.

Smartphones have replaced pitchforks and our new coats of arms are made by Nike and Disney, but underneath it all we seem to have gone back to the Middle Ages, which this time encompasses the world. Capitalism has indeed been superceded, but instead of moving forward, it’s going back. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do about this and ultimately it probably depends on how flexible we are as a species to change our ways. Olaf Stapledon once said of the fall of Western civilisation that one could no more expect the world population to change by the time of collapse than to expect ants to assume the habits of water beetles if their nest was flooded. I hope he’s wrong.

Musk, Moldbug and Mediaevalism

A long time ago, I did postgraduate philosophy at the University of Warwick. I’ve talked before about how disillusioning it was and also about my personal tutor Nick Land, but like having connections with Boris, this situation has now become more relevant to current affairs because Land was one of the founders of the Dark Enlightenment, and that movement is central to much of what’s currently being attempted in the US. Additionally, technofeudalism may be relevant. I’m going to try to go into this without injecting personal bias, except to say this: you don’t negotiate with people like this. As a near-pacifist, I wouldn’t sanction violence against them either but they do have to be defeated or overcome, simply because they get in the way of addressing the climate emergency, and anyone who does that is acting contrary to the interests of the biosphere and the human race regardless of their political complexion. It may of course be that certain other views may entail denialism, in which case those views need to end, but with an open mind and a degree of sarcasm, maybe the Nazis were absolutely fine in that respect.

At the moment then, we have the noisy distracting guy in front doing all the outrageous stuff who will be there just as long as the techbros need him to be, and then we have the techbros themselves, mainly Elon Musk, and whereas conspiracy theories are all the rage, this is not the same as simply reporting, without bias, what Musk believes politically, and his views and those of many others in Silicon Valley are based on those of Curtis Yarvin and Nick Land. I should mention that Yarvin has previously used the monicker “Mencius Moldbug” online, and that he’s an accelerationist. Yarvin’s beliefs have been summarised thus:

1. Campaign on Autocracy: Promote centralized, strong leadership.

2. Purge the Bureaucracy: Remove mid-level officials to streamline government.

3. Ignore the Courts: Undermine judicial authority.

4. Co-opt Congress: Align legislative bodies with the new regime.

5. Centralize Police and Powers: Consolidate law enforcement under federal control.

6. Shut Down Elite Media and Academia: Dismantle institutions that challenge the new order.

7. Mobilize Public Support: Rally the people for the regime.

8. Introduce Technocratic Governance: Replace politics with corporate management.

Yarvin believes in an accountable monarchy. He’s an authoritarian libertarian, which of course sounds contradictory. One of his big ideas is the Cathedral, which is the academic and media «élite», in fact the same élite Elon Musk refers to. In financial terms, Musk is of course the élite, but that’s not what he means. He means that people in the academic-media complex, as it were, determine public opinion and march in step, agreeing with each other and not allowing any contrary opinions. This is one reason for Trump’s hostility to the Department of Education and state-funded scientific research: they agree that it’s proposing a single set of beliefs without admitting to alternative views of any kind. Yarvin, for example, believes that White people are genetically more intelligent than Black people, which is obviously a view not expected to be entertained in academia.

Additionally, being in favour of authoritarianism, Yarvin is very keen on Singapore as a successful authoritarian state. William Gibson, inventor of the word “cyberspace”, has described Singapore as “Disneyland with the death penalty“. Obviously Gibson is not a fan. Yarvin was a de facto guest of honour at Trump’s inauguration in 2025, so I don’t think there’s much doubt that his ideas have been very influential. Trump is king of course, but he may also be a figurehead monarch.

As for Nick Land, well, he’s more in the background. He’s been called the godfather of accelerationism. Back in the days when I knew him, he had the reputation of being left wing but was very much in favour of élitism. I’ve written about him on here before too (same link as before incidentally) because someone on YouTube was curious about my experience of him. He has many fans. I don’t understand why anyone would think he was left wing. One of the problems with engaging with his work is that he doesn’t distinguish between theory and fiction, so you never know if he’s serious. The same accusation has been levelled at me too. Hyperstitions are an important concept in his work. He describes these as ideas that bring about their own reality. This is interestingly similar to the idea that one should take Trump seriously but not literally. The reactions to his behaviour can kind of make it real, if that makes sense. It seems fair to say that both Land and Yarvin are strongly opposed to egalitarianism, so that explains the rejection of DEI. Land believes that democracy restricts freedom and accountability. He would want a president to be a kind of CEO of a corporation rather than someone elected. It’s straight White cis able-bodied men who are disadvantaged in their opinion, and this needs to be remedied because they’re better – more competent, more intelligent, harder-working and so on.

I’m saying all this simply as a report of what’s going on. Yarvin’s views are being enacted through Musk’s DOGE. I do, however, want to mention a couple of puzzling aspects to this. At least in Britain, Conservatism has traditionally tended to see itself as a political philosophy without an ideology. All of this looks to me like an ideology, i.e. a belief system to do with political power. Also, although it’s substantially about suspicion of the Cathedral, it seems to be part of it. Nick was my personal tutor at a Russell Group university. It was of course “Margaret Thatcher’s Favourite University™”, and its very existence seems to refute the Dark Enlightenment position. I once asked him if he thought of Roger Scruton as a philosopher and he denied that he was because he was very keen on Nietzsche, whose version of a philosopher was someone who would probably end up in jail or a mental asylum, and to be honest I would concur that someone who follows their principles as a philosopher would probably do that. For instance, suppose you are wedded to solipsism, the idea that you are the only person who exists. If you take this seriously, you may end up getting sectioned or feel very lonely. If you’re a moral sceptic, i.e. you belief there is no right or wrong, in society’s eyes that makes you a sociopath or psychopath and if you aren’t also prudently restrained, you will again end up somewhere secure, possibly a coffin, where you can’t continue to pursue your diet of people’s brains. So yes, he’s absolutely right in that respect: a philosopher with the courage of their convictions is not going to be lecturing at Birkbeck College and writing books about Immanuel Kant, no matter how snarky the introductions are about Kaliningrad. But then this raises the problem of why Nick was even at Warwick, or it would do if he wasn’t so nihilist. Here’s an interesting bit about him. In a sense he was a proper philosopher though, but then that’s the problem because that makes him part of the Cathedral.

Okay, so there’s that. There’s also this.

Ferdinand Hayek once famously wrote the hugely influential book ‘The Road To Serfdom’, which majorly influenced Margaret Thatcher and others. In it, he claimed that centralised government planning is dangerous because it leads to tyranny. This political philosophy has dominated the human world since the late 1970s CE although it was actually published in 1944. It’s basically Thatcherism and Reaganomics, but the reason it’s relevant right now is the word “serfdom”. A serf is an adult labourer bound by feudalism to work on the estate of the lord of the manor, and that’s what we’re drifting towards right now. Just to be a lot more specific about serfdom, or rather feudalism, which Hayek saw neoliberal economics as protecting us from. Feudalism was the economic system arising in Europe in the centuries following the fall of the Roman Empire, and it worked as follows. There were two types. One was to do with landholding and the other mutual protection. The Roman latifundia were large agricultural estates relying on slavery for production. Since the nobles couldn’t manage the land themselves, they delegated to others in exchange for a beneficium, which was generally military service in exchange for the right to work on the land. Because Rome fell, the emperor could no longer guarantee safety to his subjects and it became necessary to adopt a patronage system, whereby nobles organised some faithful retainers around themselves in return for taking care of them. This was similar to the Germanic arrangement already in place, where the chiefs chose outstanding warriors who swore loyalty to them and were fed and provided with arms for doing so. This situation was how things were before full feudalism swang (nope, not a spelling mistake!) into action a few centuries later, which I’ll tell you about in a minute.

Just as an aside then, feudalism fascinates me for two reasons. One is that capitalism replaced and is better than it. Capitalism is progress compared to feudalism, so to an extent it’s worth celebrating. The other is that it’s not capitalism, making it an example of an alternative system worth investigating and studying to show that capitalism isn’t the only way of doing things. Having said that, I’ve not spent much time looking at it. Back to my main point then.

This was the Carolingian Empire:

This is the empire over which Charlemagne ruled after he was crowned emperor in Rome in order to demonstrate continuity with the Western Roman Empire. It was a bit of an on-again/off-again state of affairs which led to the emperors being forced to recognise fiefdoms as hereditary and exempt from royal interference. At the same time, mounted knights were increasingly being granted land. Meanwhile, the Muslims made it impossible to trade widely beyond Europe and the region had to become self-sufficient. This made the rural economy more important than cities and towns and manors became small communities able to make and do everything they needed, meaning that money ceased to circulate as it had before. Small landowners almost disappeared, landed aristocracy became independent, there were the renowned mounted knights and there was no more Mediterranean commerce. Hence feudalism, which arose by 900: political authority wielded by landed nobility, theoretically ruled by the king but actually able to take the law into their own hands most of the time. The king kept large areas of land for personal use, giving the rest to the highest nobles, and so on down to the knights, who had just enough land to support themselves and their horse. A serf was tied to the manor and couldn’t leave without the lord’s consent. It was hereditary – your children weren’t going to escape it and there was basically no such thing as upward mobility. The villeins could afford to leave the manor if they paid the lord to do so, or could send their sons to learn trades or enter the Church. Peasants had to work several days a week for free on the land and pay the lord in produce, or money if available. This allowed the rule of law to continue. Although serfs couldn’t be bought and sold individually, they could be exchanged along with the land. This may surprise you, but to some extent I actually agree that this is so, although I also think voting for a government which does this kind of thing is actually consent for them doing it. However, the same is also true, and this is my opinion again, and very far from Hayek’s, that the same applies to profit. Having said that, I really should restrain myself from expressing my own opinions in this way. Suffice it to say that

The Musk situation is the end of a rather long process examined by the Greek economist “Γιάνης” Βαρουφάκης, who was Greek minister of finance in 2015 when the global economy decided to ignore the colossal contribution the Greek people had made to the modern world, which is so extensive that it’s impossible for them to owe us anything ever (sorry, personal opinion again – I must restrain myself), and declare the Greek economy bankrupt. Βαρουφάκης claims that we are no longer operating under a capitalist system, but what he calls a technofeudalist one. What he means by this can be partly illustrated by the online world as it’s developed since 1989. In that year, Tim Berners-Lee invented the World Wide Web, which he gave the world for free because he considered it too important to be paid for. This effectively created a new “space” which has been described at that point as like the Wild West. That is, it was common ground. It was like a vast new continent had been discovered to which anyone could lay claim, but which was substantially shared. As time went by though, users tended to be corralled into proprietary spaces, particularly social media such as Facebook, Twitter and the rest, which are of course free but only in monetary terms. It’s been said that if you’re getting something for free, such as the food eaten by serfs which they hadn’t paid for, it’s because it’s you who are being sold. This is clearly true with social media and mobile ‘phone use because by using either we tend to provide lots of data about our movements, purchasing habits, tastes, political opinions and relationships, among other things, and these are of course highly valuable to the likes of advertisers, lobby groups and political parties in all sorts of ways. And it goes further than that. There are lots of things we no longer own. For instance, we might listen to music on iTunes or Spotify, read ebooks on Kindles or watch TV on streaming services. If you actually look at the terms and conditions of the companies providing us with those services, you’ll find that you don’t actually own any of that stuff, and nowadays physical media have practically disappeared. Amazon more generally is another example. According to the technofeudalist view, Amazon exists by charging rent, not by selling things. This is true on Prime and with Kindles of course, but also the general marketplace there. Everyone goes to Amazon and it’s hard to go anywhere else. Βαρουφάκης compares it to a town where all the shops belong to Jeff Bezos, and that is of course also known as a company town, but also this is a similar situation to how serfs had to behave. They couldn’t get hold of anything which wasn’t made on the estate or that someone had bought into it. A rather important side-point is that other items are now rented rather than bought. This arrangement exists with cars (and I don’t mean renting a vehicle), leasehold property and software, notably Microsoft Office. This arrangement is better for the corporations and worse for the consumer because we constantly lose money and they constantly gain it. There was a phrase a few years ago by the World Economic Foundation – “You will own nothing and be happy” – which led to panic among conspiracy hypothesists who equated it to communism. In fact it refers to this technofeudal situation. We own nothing, or rather less, because the corporations own it, and to some extent us, via social media and other apps and services. We have governance by the few over the many, and that’s pretty close to feudalism. Moreover, it wasn’t Hayek’s fear that state control and what he probably thought of as creeping socialism and communism which achieved that. It was capitalism. Βαρουφάκης in fact claims that capitalism is over, so to some extent Marx was right, but the trouble is it wasn’t replaced by communism but by a return to feudalism which may become ever more pronounced over the few years remaining before we go extinct. Another aspect of this is that Βαρουφάκης is a Marxist, but another author making practically the same claim, Roger McNamee, is a venture capitalist who provided much of the original funds to set up Facebook. This is hardly even a political position, just a pretty much neutral description of what’s happened.

To conclude then, it’s no secret that Musk and the other billionaires are inspired by and are following the plans of the accelerationists, and in any case capitalism may well be over now, but replaced by its predecessor. Please note also that I’m trying not to insert my own political opinions, most of the time, about this, so much as stating what we can note, observe and think, and what others have thought about the situation. I obviously do have positions on all this stuff, but all I’m doing right now is presenting the facts.

Android Warehouse

I don’t do fandom properly. Although I’m keen on Steely Dan, and have to a limited extent been for a long time, having liked their singles since the mid-1970s CE, I didn’t really get into them until I was with Sarada, who has a couple of their albums. I was puzzled by Fagen’s ‘I.G.Y.’ and irritated by its apparent optimism, because it seemed so inappropriate for 1982. However, this post is not specifically about the band, although it partly is. It’s also about William Gibson, the Metaverse and NFTs, and ultimately about what could be a coming dystopia, or it might be nothing, I don’t know

So let’s start with:

Steely Dan

Steely Dan are effectively a duo with a load of session musicians, now defunct due to Walter Becker’s death, the other member being Donald Fagen. My brother holds them in complete contempt, possibly because he has better taste than I. There’s a lot to be said about “The Dan”, most of which I won’t be going into here. I’d say they were characterised by cynicism, obsessively high-quality production, a theme of sleaze focussing particularly on incest and child abuse, but also on the criminal underworld and science fiction. They also have this odd habit of name-dropping, as if they’re on the inside and the listener is looking in from some kind of outer darkness which I suspect is illusory, but I can’t be sure. They’re also quite pretentious. But today I want to focus on their early stuff, which tended to sound like Crosby, Stills and Nash, in particular two tracks: ‘Android Warehouse’ and ‘The Caves Of Altamira’.

I’ll start with the second.

I recall when I was small
How I spent my days alone
The busy world was not for me
So I went and found my own
I would climb the garden wall
With a candle in my hand
I’d hide inside a hall of rock and sand
On the stone an ancient hand
In a faded yellow-green
Made alive a worldly wonder
Often told but never seen
Now and ever bound to labor
On the sea and in the sky
Every man and beast appeared
A friend as real as I

[Chorus]
Before the fall when they wrote it on the wall
When there wasn’t even any Hollywood
They heard the call
And they wrote it on the wall
For you and me we understood

Can it be this sad design
Could be the very same
A wooly man without a face
And a beast without a name
Nothin’ here but history
Can you see what has been done
Memory rush over me
Now I step into the sun

[Chorus]

Many years had come and gone and many miles between,

Through it all I found my way by the light of what I’d seen,

On the road as I returned was a green and yellow sign saying ‘see the way it used to be. . .”

And I took my place in line,

Could I believe the sad design could be the very same?

A wooly man without a name and a beast without a name . . .

(The block editor has screwed me here).

The actual caves of Altamira are an archæological site in modern-day Spain into which a girl once crept and rediscovered cave paintings of bulls. The last verse, with the messed-up layout, is omitted in most versions but casts a different light on the same experience. Steely Dan have said that the song itself is about the loss of innocence, presumably of both Palæolithic humanity and the girl in question.

The odd thing about the last verse is that it can also be sung using the tune for ‘Android Warehouse’, which is particularly interesting because for some reason ‘The Caves Of Altamira’ is often used as a title for the other song. There’s clearly a tale to be told here but I don’t know what it is.

The really enigmatic song, though, is ‘Android Warehouse’ itself, whose lyrics go as follows:

Daytime you’re to proud to brag

About the badge you wore

Nighttime you’re to tired to drive

Your change across the floor

All your guns are gone I’m told

Or in the Aerodrome

Did you die the day they sold

The ones you left at home

Hold my hand in the Android Warehouse

Who’s to know if you take a dive

Ain’t life grand in the Android Warehouse

What a burner when you take off your goggles and find?

That you’re alive

That you’re alive

Did you really gobble up

The things they claimed you ate

Were you fit to swallow it

Or scared to clean your plate

Have you tried to calculate

The hours they’d applaud

I would guess it’s somewhat less

For just another fraud

Hold my hand in the Android Warehouse

Who’s to know if you take a dive

Ain’t life grand in the Android Warehouse

What a burner when you take off your goggles and find…

That you’re alive

That you’re alive

That you’re alive…

This was written some time between 1968 and 1971. I should point out that I have a very strong tendency to read meanings into lyrics and texts generally which are unique to myself. As Al Stewart once said:

And some of you are harmonies to all the notes I play
Although we may not meet still you know me well
While others talk in secret keys and transpose all I say
And nothing I do or try can get through the spell.

Steely Dan lend themselves much more to this than many other bands though. Even so, I find ‘Android Warehouse’ to be particularly startling. It’s said that the band itself were actually going to be named Android Warehouse at one point, so it seems to be more than just another song. The crucial lines for me are:

Ain’t life grand in the Android Warehouse
What a burner when you take off your goggles and find?
That you’re alive
So then: imagine an android warehouse. A place where physically inactive humanoid mechanical bodies are stacked up. And they’re all wearing goggles. Are they seeing anything through those goggles? If they take them off, they discover they aren’t androids after all, but are alive, and this shock burns them.

Does this remind you of anything?

Now the idea of the Matrix does seriously pre-date both Keanu Reeves and Steely Dan. It dates back to Indian ideas of Maya and the Western Gnostic tradition. But the idea that it was controlled by a giant machine or collection of machines is somewhat newer. It connects to Cyberspace. Note the capital.

I think ‘Android Warehouse’ is about the dehumanising effect of living in virtual reality as a metaphor for modern life in the industrialised world, and that the metaphor is quite vividly developed. In 1971 at the latest. This might be thought of as mere coincidence and reading meaning into things which aren’t there. The only thing is, Steely Dan were fans of a certain author.

William Gibson

Gibson invented cyberpunk, and I was there at the birth. As I mentioned in 1982, that year was the only one I read the magazine OMNI in, and the July edition saw the first publication of his short story ‘Burning Chrome’, which contains the first occurrence of the word “cyberspace”. Google ngrams shows the following:

“Cyberspace” is a heck of a lot more popular than “cyberpunk”. Cyberspace was originally a hacked computer called the Cyberspace 7, used to access a VR-represented version of the internet. It’s also known, to Gibson himself, as the “matrix”, described as a consensual hallucination. Its foundations look like the classic wireframe plane of squares as seen in countless CGI renderings from the 1970s, and it subjectively develops out of the phosphenes a sighted person experiences when she closes her eyes in darkness. Megacorp and military sites look like the coloured polyhedra familiar from high-end raster scan graphics of the time. There’s also ICE, Intrusion Countermeasures Electronics, which are arranged as “ICE walls” to protect data in the same way as fire walls now are in what might be called the real world. This includes “Black ICE”, which causes fatal seizures. Black ICE is a precursor of the later concept of David Langford’s Basilisk, an image which crashes the human mind fatally, but that wasn’t arrived at until his story ‘Blit’ in 1988.

The Sprawl universe defines cyberpunk, and was in its turn influenced by ‘Blade Runner’, which came out the same year as ‘Burning Chrome’. The basic features of the sub-genre consist of a dystopian computerised world which many people choose to escape by living in virtual reality. The central characters are usually marginalised poor people forced to live on the edge of society. There is a strong Japanese influence on the culture and the US has collapsed but the Soviet Union hasn’t. The Sprawl itself is a thousand-mile long conurbation stretching all the way from Boston to Atlanta. ‘Blade Runner’ seems to posit a second megacity on the west coast of the former US, and I use the word “Megacity” advisèdly as Judge Dredd’s Megacity One is quite similar and seems to be one inspiration for it. The film version of ‘Minority Report’ is set in the Sprawl too. It’s very common. The use of the word “punk” is clearly inherited from the then very recent punk movements of Europe and America.

The Sprawl trilogy contains numerous references to Steely Dan. For instance, there are bars called ‘The Gentleman Loser’ (from Midnite Cruiser) and ‘Here At The Western World’, a love interest called Rikki (Rikki Don’t Lose That Number) and Razor Girls (as in ‘Razor Boy’). Steely Dan is pervasive in the Sprawl, and Gibson has himself written about them. There are characters called Klaus and the Rooster (Here At The Western World). The general atmosphere of their music and Gibson’s fiction is the same. Incidentally, I fully acknowledge the influence of William Burroughs on both, but I’m not as familiar with him as the other two.

But here’s the thing. It doesn’t stretch my credulity at all to see the song ‘Android Warehouse’ as the inspiration for cyberspace. If that’s true, Steely Dan’s impact on the world is largely obscure but absolutely enormous.

The Metaverse

“Metaverse” is a word with a history. It wasn’t coined by Facebook or Mark Zuckerberg, but by Neal Stephenson in his book ‘Snow Crash’, which I haven’t read. I could at this point post a spoiler warning for ‘Snow Crash’ even though I haven’t read it, but the problem with that is that unfortunately the real world of the 2020s is a spoiler for the novel. I do not know what possessed the people who name Facebook stuff to use the word for this, because its connotations are absolutely appalling read in context. It looks like a sick in-joke.

‘Snow Crash’ is a cyberpunk novel published in 1992. Snow Crash itself is a basilisk in Langford’s sense. It’s a computer virus which can infect and destroy hackers’ minds. Although this might not sound very original given Gibson and Langford, the novel scores on being remarkably prescient. It popularised the term “avatar” in the online sense. Second Life has an annual reënactment of the novel because its existence was inspired by one of the main ideas and settings of the story: the Metaverse. This takes the form of a virtual world comprising a featureless black planet bisected by a road 65 536 kilometres long accessible via VR goggles or cheaper black and white terminals. It’s an urban environment a hundred metres wide. Countries have collapsed and been replaced by corporations. The entire book is supposed to be a parody of the cyberpunk genre, which is probably why the central character is called Hiro Protagonist. There’s a lot of other stuff, such as the Sumerian language being the machine code of the human brain, but for now I want to concentrate on the Metaverse. It is not a good thing. It’s controlled by amoral corporations and seems to be essential to living a bearable life. The entire setting is dystopian. I’m afraid I’m letting myself down here through not having read it, but the Metaverse is clearly not a good thing.

Then we get Facebook and Zuckerberg angling to incorporate his soul-sucking demon of a social networking site, to which I and many others are of course addicted, into his virtual environment and actually calling it the Metaverse without a trace of irony! Facebook aims to build an all-encompassing VR environment over which it has total control. Past experience has shown that FB is harmful and that they know themselves to be harmful, to the mental well-being of its users, and the likes of storming the Capitol shows very clearly that it has a malevolent influence on the human race and the planet. It has itself researched the harm it does. Their position is now analogous to the likes of tobacco companies and the fossil fuel industry lobbying and paying off people in “power” (I should explain those quotes at some point) in order to defer or completely erase their bad reputation.

What this amounts to, despite Zuckerberg’s claim that he will only provide the infrastructure which other corporations will use, is an attempt to privatise reality. There is arguably no problem with a virtual space of this nature provided there is public control over it, or perhaps individual control. There most definitely is a problem with this space being owned by a multinational, because to quote Revelation 13:17 –
καὶ ἵνα μή τις δύνηται ἀγοράσαι ἢ πωλῆσαι εἰ μὴ ὁ ἔχων τὸ χάραγμα, τὸ ὄνομα τοῦ θηρίου ἢ τὸν ἀριθμὸν τοῦ ὀνόματος αὐτοῦ. 

And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name.

I am in no wise claiming that this is prophecy of this specific occurrence. I tend towards an idealist interpretation of the book of Revelation and believe that its contents can be applied to all places and times. Nonetheless I find it sinister that this seems to be a situation where you have to sell out in order to have a livable life in mainstream society. You have no choice but to be on Facebook having your intimate personal data mined and sold to megacorps. There is a reason why this Bible verse has such resonance and applicability.

In order to make the next point, it’s helpful to digress into a different high tech area. The replicator seems at first to be some kind of magical genie lamp which you can rub to wish away scarcity. It isn’t, because technological change can always be recuperated by capitalism. There is nothing special about the replicator or its real predecessor the 3-D printer which solves a political problem which wouldn’t’ve been solved by the industrial revolution or the plough in the right social climate. We have a device which can manufacture anything we want in whatever quantities we want. This is a potential hazard to the survival of capitalism, so there are two possible approaches to address this. One is just to make the raw material prohibitively expensive and out of reach of the average consumer so that only the super-rich or their money vampire machines called multinational companies can afford it. The other, and I’m not saying they wouldn’t do both, is to slap a patent, copyright or some other kind of intellectual property thing on the design of the product, then cripple the machine so that it will only produce it if you’ve got some kind of authorisation or payment for it. That way, order is restored and we can all rest safely in our beds knowing the world will continue to be completely crap forever or at least until the oil runs out.

The thing about the Metaverse is that there can be such things as virtual outfits, cars, furniture, apartments and so forth in it, all of which will have to be paid for, or if not, the free stuff will be given low status by people who are rich enough to afford the “nice” stuff. Don’t believe me? Just think about NFTs.

NFTs

Right, now we’re back in the Metaverse, where we want to buy and sell things, or rather Meta wants us to buy things from the various faceless sociopathic organisations that rule the world and damage by stealing our labour and money, also known as the ordinary world. However, any large organisation which does stuff is more likely to do bad stuff because it’s big and some of it is bound to be bad by the law of averages, so maybe it’s more an emergent property of large scale organisations. Whatever the cause, in an economy which runs on scarcity such as our own, the potential abundance afforded by the internet and ICT needs to be reined in for economic and political purposes. Bill Gates was one of the first people to realise how easy it was to copy software when he wrote his “Open Letter To Hobbyists” in 1976 regarding the piracy of Altair BASIC. His claim, from which almost everything he’s done since in the business world stems, was that piracy discouraged people writing software from putting in the work to develop it and therefore stifled information and in fact the whole burgeoning software industry. Against this lies the more abundance-based attitude of GNU, the Free Software Foundation, the original IMDb, Wikipedia and Project Gutenberg, among many others, which has enabled the internet to flourish and provided us with the likes of Android (there’s that word again).

The fact is that it’s very easy to reproduce software which has not been protected in some way, either legally or by a more technology-based method, and as technology advances also to reproduce text, music, video and other media. However, our economy can’t allow that to happen, so various methods are used to restrict that. There are videos on YouTube of “rare” or “lost” episodes or pieces of music, such as Android Warehouse itself, but once they’re on YT, unless someone comes along and has a copyright strike issued, they cease to be rare in most meaningful senses once they’ve been uploaded. Anyone who wants to can listen to Android Warehouse:

If the economy was catholic, i.e. maximised the number of sole traders, there would be a strong moral case for protecting individual artists’ works in some way. Even as it stands there’s a case for it.

In the non-virtual world, rarity doesn’t have to be invented. Stamps can be misprinted, coins can be issued for a short-reigned monarch such as Edward VIII and there are unique artworks by the likes of Picasso and Dalí. The latter in particular exploited this in an interesting way. Instead of paying for his meals in restaurants, he used to draw sketches on pieces of paper and hand them over like cheques. In order for the same kind of thing to happen online, methods need to be devised to create scarcity. Although on the one hand this seems morally bankrupt and perhaps even evil, on the other we live in a world where many of us provide free “content” without any prospect of being renumerated for our labour. The word “content” used in this setting makes me think of containers into which art, music and text is poured without regard for the kine “which” secreted it and the adverse effect it has on their bodies and lives.

Photo by Matthias Zomer on Pexels.com

Enter the NFT. This isn’t the only solution. Another might be quantum cryptography, but in any case right now the NFT is a very hyped option. NFT stands for “Non-Fungible Token”, and once again I find myself in a quandary because I have no idea whether they’re well-known or not. Fungibility is more or less another word for replaceability, and NFTs are an attempt to create non-replaceable resources online. They’re based on cryptocurrency and the blockchain, specifically on the Ethereum one, the second most popular cryptocurrency after Bitcoin.

Both cryptocurrency and NFTs are subject to being hard to understand, in such a way that they remind me a little of confusopolies. This is Scott Adams’s word for the situation which used to exist around mobile ‘phone contracts and others (e.g. utility services) where there were so many different options that many people just plump for one at random because they don’t understand the differences between them and consider them trivial. This allows providers to camouflage their deals and compete successfully because it makes it less likely that really good deals can be noticed, and it also puts people off thinking about them too hard. That repellence, and the feeling that life is too short, is a good way of getting away with nefarious activities. With cryptocurrency and NFTs an additional layer of complexity is introduced by the fact that both are currently subject to bubbles. Most people seem to be into cryptocurrencies as a means of making money rather than as a means of exchange, leading to the artificial inflation of their value, but at the same time it would be understandable if the risk to the authority of the likes of banks were to be countered by causing Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt (FUD) in the minds of the public. For people of my generation there could be a further layer of complication due to the feeling that anything which has been invented recently is suspect. There also appears to be a vast environmental issue with both.

Leaving all that aside, how does an NFT work?

An NFT is a single token stored in a blockchain indicating exclusive rights over an item, usually a digital asset of some kind. If you buy an NFT, you get to “own” something like an image, a URL, a film, a piece of music or perhaps an asset in a game such as a weapon, a skin or an area of land in a virtual world. These last few are what links NFTs to the Metaverse, since that’s a virtual world like Second Life or World Of Warcraft. However, they become more significant to the rest of us if Zuckerberg succeeds in his leverage.

A blockchain is a ledger held by participating computers over a wide area. Some might say “all over the world”, but I’m not sure that includes most of it. When a transaction is made, that is, buying and selling, a record of that is made publicly on this ledger which can be read by all participants in the system. This is what guarantees the security of the system and allows it to be independent of banking. This threat to the authority of banks could conceivably lead to negative propaganda and manipulation, but at the same time NFTs and cryptocurrency don’t actually seem to be good things for other reasons and those who want to profit from them benefit from talking them up.

The big problem with cryptocurrency and NFTs, environmentally speaking, is that they’re generated by carbon-hungry “busy work” on computers. The problem centres on “proof of work”. As far as Bitcoin is concerned, it works like this. Every ten minutes, the computers connected to the network do a difficult and complex calculation which proves that electricity has been used. It must not have a useful purpose. The data resulting are evidence that the work has been done. These are then submitted and the winner (it’s like a lottery) then gets to verify all the transactions done in the last ten minutes. The more electricity you use, the more likely you are to win, and this is also how Bitcoins are created. Bitcoin miners therefore congregate in areas where the climate is very cold (to cool their computers doing the work) or where electricity is cheap, which usually means a massive carbon footprint. Something like 0.5% of the carbon footprint of the species is due to Bitcoin mining and the blockchain alone.

Ethereum uses a process known as “proof of stake” instead, where a random process is still used, but is based on the investment an individual participant makes, giving them the chance to validate everything. This still makes it easier for richer people to make money but potentially avoids the concentration of power which occurs with Bitcoin. Approving fraudulent transactions brings penalties. Ethereum is also being upgraded to “Ethereum 2.0”, which aims to reduce the risk of a “majority shareholder” dominating the network, increase the bandwidth of transactions (more per second) without increasing the size of nodes and making it more environmentally sustainable.

It really bothers me that anyone would even consider inventing a new technology which automatically has a large carbon footprint this far into the twenty-first century. Ethereum doesn’t seem to have this, but it has other problems, in the nature of NFTs, which are based on Ethereum.

There are various pieces of data, some of them very large such as feature films, which are linked to NFTs. The cost of an individual NFT is usually very high. In the Metaverse one probably won’t have any choice but to use them, and at this point I am reminded of the ‘Black Mirror’ episode ‘Fifteen Million Merits’, and in particular this crowd at the Hot Shots talent show:

Will be removed on request

Don’t you just know that the skins, faces, hair and clothing of those avatars were bought at a premium rate set by the network? In 2022, and in connection with the Metaverse, all of these things are likely to have NFTs. Moreover, in this screenshot it’s clear that they’re supposed to look artificial, low-quality – somehow “plasticky”, which is what they will be. But the chances are you won’t have a choice to opt out of using crypto or NFTs.

Things may change, but right now NFT-associated property looks similarly vapid, ugly and uninspiring. Here are some examples:

Lazy Lions:

You know what? I have no clue whatsoever how intellectual property works on this or any other NFT-related stuff. You tell me and I’ll act accordingly.

Bored Apes:

Cryptopunks:

Just to choose a few random prices, one Lazy Lion costs £9 816.12 and there’s also one for almost a million quid, a Bored Ape is typically cheaper, maybe about £40, and Cryptopunks are each valued particularly highly, seeming to average well about a quarter of a million pounds sterling apiece. One of them appears to be worth £300 million. All of these appear to be arbitrarily generated by software in a lazy manner, and they all feel seriously soulless. It’s possible that at some point this bubble will burst and there will be more stuff which actually seems to be worthwhile, and this also links to the idea of artworks which are only worth something if they’re in a gallery. If you visit the websites these things are sold on, the focus is solely on investment. Nobody seems to care what they look like.

I find this rather distressing. I find it all the more distressing that I can easily see that this low-effort trash will not only continue but become unavoidable if we’re all forced to participate in the Metaverse.

Conclusion

I’m not really sure where this is going. I believe Steely Dan may well have had an invisible hand in today’s world through their song and it’s widely acknowledged that William Gibson did. Facebook, or rather Meta, may well fail in their attempt and could have overreached themselves in creating the Metaverse, which could in any case be a distraction from their other nefarious influence on society, but that won’t stop someone else from doing it. Zuckerberg seems peeved that he doesn’t have control over hardware and therefore the whole path from his central stuff to the end-user. The Metaverse is also nothing new, and is more like him nicking it from the common ownership it has currently and making it his own. Finally, NFTs may come to nothing, and are a continuation of what’s long happened in other ways, but right now, to this four-and-a-half-dozen-year-old, they look like something which would’ve happened in the last days of Rome before the Goths came swarming in, or in this case pandemics and anthropogenic climate change.

Seriously, I dunno. They changed what “it” was I think.

The Continuation Of Political Theory By Other Means

There are certain issues with certain people’s opinions of certain works. Consequently I’m going to push the details of what this post is about exactly beyond the fold, but not beyond the pale.

The only thing I know about Carl von Clausewitz is that he said “war is the continuation of politics by other means”. He also said “the best form of defence is attack”, “the enemy of a good plan is the dream of a perfect plan” and “to secure peace is to prepare for war”. However, this post is not about von Clausewitz. It’s about two fairly famous related works, one based on the other, both fairly thoroughly misunderstood and one also unfairly dissed: ‘Starship Troopers’.

Up front I’m going to say that I disagree strongly with the political philosophy of Heinlein’s novel although I do have quite a bit of sympathy with the idea. As for the film, something terrible seems to have happened to its reputation, and bearing in mind that Verhoeven is also reponsible for ‘Robocop’, also quite misunderstood, and ‘Total Recall’, it’s fairly obvious that if you think he meant for it to be a pro-totalitarian or pro-Fascist film, you’ve got it completely wrong. There’s also the issue of identifying what Heinlein intended with Fascism or even totalitarianism and whether it’s a thought experiment or direct advocacy for his political beliefs. The whole thing is a bit complicated really.

Just to introduce the two then:

Robert A Heinlein is a front-ranking English language science fiction writers of the mid-twentieth century CE along with the politically very different Isaac Asimov and Arthur C Clarke. Among other things, he wrote military science fiction, and I’ve found everything I’ve read by him to be very readable and a page-turner. However, I haven’t read much of his work because he has a reputation for being right wing. Asimov is a liberal and was even invited to join the Communist Party, which he turned down. Arthur C Clarke has a religious bent and was heavily influenced by Stapledon, and is of course British. Heinlein supported the Vietnam War, although he also ran for office as a Democrat as a young man. He’s influenced, as are many other SF writers, by his experience of the Second World War. He served in the Navy during the previous decade and as an engineer in the War itself. Like many other people, he drifted to the Right as he got older but unlike some others, he was always politically active, from his Democratic years in the 1930s at least up to 1959’s ‘Starship Troopers’. He believed very much in military government. However, weirdly, his ‘Stranger In A Strange Land’ was very popular with hippies and the counterculture, and he regarded himself as a libertarian who was close to being anarchist. He has a beguiling talent for making his worldbuilding seem believable and reasonable to the reader. I have a sneaking admiration for his work even though his politics are in some ways very distant from my own. He’s also very character-centred and “human”. A better word borrowed from this century’s parlance might be neurotypical.

‘Starship Troopers’ is one of a series of his works driven by a political perspective, and it’s arguable whether it’s his or not. He may simply be setting up an idea and seeing how it works through the plot as a thought experiment, but my impression is that he takes it pretty seriously and I think it probably is what he actually believes. I’m not familiar enough with his writing or life to say too much from an informed perspective. I’ve read ‘I Will Fear No Evil’ and ‘The Door Into Summer’, ‘Beyond This Horizon’, ‘The Number Of The Beast’ and I’m not sure what else. The first is actually quite a strong influence on my view of the nature of personal identity, so there we have it, a right wing author forms a plank of one of my most fundamental philosophical stances which has a major influence on my life and those of the people around me. That novel is the reason I disagree with Derek Parfit’s views. He’s considered the most important and seminal writer of genre SF, establishing many of the central tropes of what outsiders tend to think of as science fiction. Heinlein’s heroes tend to balance the physical and the mental in that they don’t shrink from using violence but are also powerfully intellectual. Being close to pacifism, I hope I don’t need to state that I disagree strongly with the specifics here but also consider one of the major virtues of Yoga that it does the same, though very differently.

‘Starship Troopers’ is influential in two different ways. As well as its political theory, it was a factor in the establishment of the Mecha subgenre of Anime, although Gerry Anderson is also an influence here. Besides that, I would say it promoted military SF, although in a way that’s part of the same thing. The powered exoskeleton, a wearable machine that enables one to exert greater strength than one would alone, already existed before 1959, the year the novel was published, but would probably not have been so widely adopted without his work, for better or worse. But today I want to talk about the other influence.

I get the impression I’ve mentioned this before on this blog, so forgive me if I’m repeating myself (apparently I am to some extent). The basic premise of the novel is that in order to vote, one must serve in the military for at least two years, and violence is seen as a legitimate solution to problems. The reason for this is that liberalism ruined society and it was basically scientifically established that violence had a rightful place in human affairs. It’s probably obvious that I completely disagree with this but at the same time I find his views and the way he illustrates and argues for them fascinating. The novel is partly a propaganda piece defending the Cold War and using the aliens as a symbol for Red China, but it goes deeper than that. Heinlein clearly maintains that there is something central to human nature which makes it impossible for Communism to work, and that for us, a species for which Communism would work would seem utterly abhorrent and a threat. It’s like our instinctive dislike for insects is linked to an innate repulsion to socialism. And that’s interesting, because apparently research has shown that Right wing people make a stronger connection between disgust and moral judgement than Left wing people. I would disagree with this to some extent because I think there are different ways to be Right wing and some of them have nothing to do with prejudice against marginalised groups, at least consciously, and to say they have subconsciously is to presume to know the minds of the people with these views better than they know themselves, which is quite an arrogant position unlikely to lead to empathy and therefore any kind of helpful dialogue. It is nonetheless interesting that Heinlein makes this equation.

I’m not interested in defending a slave-owning democracy. That said, the democratic nature of ancient Athens meant that the people voting for or against war were doing so in the full knowledge that it would be their own lives on the line if they chose to pursue a belligerent policy. This is no longer the case in Western democracies. Nowadays, people who join the military are unlikely to get anywhere near the levers of power unless they’re already privileged. There was a time when the monarch led their troops into battle, but this seemed to end because of the risk to a particularly valued member of society, and at a time when the fate of millions was tied up in that individual’s fate it did make sense to stop doing this, regardless of the wisdom of having such a social order exist in the first place. If that’s a given, it is a rational decision, but it means that the choice of life and death can be made without personal risk. This is the central issue in the novel. In order to earn the right to vote, one must be prepared to put one’s life on the line to defend the body politic.

It’s also light years away from my political beliefs, but precisely because it’s so radically different, the questions asked are in the same realm as my own. My personal belief is that political obligation cannot be derived legitimately but is instead imposed by force, by a government holding a monopoly on the threat of violence. We’re born in territories claimed by governments which most people have never freely consented, because there is no way of opting out without severe personal cost in financial or other terms. There is no hospitable place to which one can move in order to avoid the coercion of government. There are the high seas, Antarctica and war zones, and that’s probably it for this planet. Of course, one reason those places are inhospitable is that there’s no state or other organisation making them more habitable, but when that happens, there are strings attached. It’s a valid argument to say that your life depends on the state, because for example one might be born in a hospital run by the government, go through schooling provided by it, be protected from the threat of violence by a police force and eat food brought to you by road and rail built by them. There’s also the question of compromise, because the chances are nobody will agree with you politically 100%, so you have to comply with the law of the land even if you weren’t a member of the party which brought a particular law into being and would never vote for them. The law also often coincides with morality. I don’t actually think it would be okay to kill or steal, or for that matter drive dangerously, which in my case actually means driving in any way at all. Nevertheless, there is no other choice, and the absence of that choice means that the only ultimate reason to obey the law is that it’s enforced by potential violence and loss of freedom, and in some countries loss of life.

Heinlein poses the right question but gives the wrong answer. His answer is diametrically opposed to mine. He has one of his protagonists express the opinion that violence is often the answer, which I disagree with, but I agree with his opinion that exercising the franchise is in a sense a form of violence. I do vote. In doing so, I’m not entirely pacifist (and incidentally therefore not entirely vegan, which is close to pacifism) because I am engaging in action which endorses the state’s monopoly on violence. Heinlein, amazingly, has got this absolutely right. Of course, the alternative of not voting is irresponsible and the powers that be can sometimes be very keen on the idea of people not voting and therefore it may be in their interests to encourage cynicism about politicians as public servants, because that way one loses the ability to discriminate between better and worse politicians and the actual point of having a democracy, such as it is. However, I’m not completely pacifist anyway because I honestly believe violence was the only way Nazism could be defeated and I don’t want to impose my values as a privileged White Westerner on other, more heavily oppressed people whose experience has led them to conclude that armed insurrection is the only effective answer. After all, it doesn’t actually make their violence less legitimate than that of the armed forces, and there’s moral complexity in both.

Heinlein’s system works in detail like this: you are not born destined to have the right to vote. At the age of eighteen, everyone of sound mind can make the free choice to serve in the armed forces for at least two years, during which they have no freedom. If war breaks out during this period, this is extended for the duration of the conflict. Even a blind paraplegic can serve, although it would be hard to find tasks for which they’re suited. Because of the wide range of abilities, the government has had to provide some kind of work, usually dangerous and unpleasant but always necessary, for every potential citizen. Once one’s term of service is over, provided you haven’t been killed, you not only have the right to vote but the obligation to do so unless you break the criminal law. However, any interruption of service will permanently lose you the opportunity even if you sign up again.#

Now, this has been compared to fascism, and the absence of possible other forms of service which can’t be integrated with the armed forces is ignored. It means that a pacifist has no right to vote, which to Heinlein’s mind is entirely fine because a pacifist doesn’t have the defence of a democratic government as their highest principle. Of course it isn’t actually fine and it assumes that every member of society benefits enough from the social order to defend it. To be fair, the society in question is depicted as having no racism or sexism as Heinlein understands it, although of course this is to the mind of a White male American living in the mid-twentieth century and in fact there are sexist and racist elements in the book as written. In some situations, women are seen as more suitable for particular front line rôles in the military, such as spaceship pilots, because they’re more able to stand the G forces involved and are usually smaller than men, but they also need to be good at maths to do this, and again there’s no suggestion that they wouldn’t be just as capable as men. Racism is seen as small-minded and excessively focussed on local concerns. I mean, he does try, and his society is in fact one where ethnicity and gender are not barriers to success or enfranchisement so this could be fair given his assumptions. Whether it’s possible to get there from here is another question.

Non-citizens are not considered intellectually or morally inferior. These are people who can’t vote because they have not done military service. They do, however, pay tax, so this is taxation without representation. That said, being a taxpayer does give one some rights as to how the government spends one’s money and you can be wealthy and entrepreneurial, and have high status without also having the right to vote. Non-citizens may regard involvement in politics as a dirty business they don’t want to be involved in, and this is quite a common attitude in liberal democracies generally. The government and armed forces don’t encourage people to join up. If anything, they discourage them. They’re given forty-eight hours leave as a cooling off period immediately and many of them never bother coming back, which bars them forever from citizenship. They place severely injured ex-combatants as recruiting officers in order to demonstrate the potential price of service. Future citizens absolutely go into this with their eyes open, so to speak, and it’s very much a free choice.

This is also very much a society in which veterans are respected, which contrasts starkly with our own. There aren’t likely to be any homeless vets here, for example. Not only is a very large component of adult society ex-forces, as was the case with men in the post-war era probably somewhat formative in Heinlein’s thought in preparing the novel, but also they’re generally fairly respected, except for the fact that politics is considered by many non-citizens as getting one’s hands dirty and therefore not particularly worthy of respect. Also in this society there are as many female veterans as male, so there is less balance there among those who can vote. The brutalising effect of being trained to kill and the tendency to make irrational decisions in the heat of the moment which then become set in stone because of the high price paid for them, such as the death of one’s friends or one’s own serious injury. People who haven’t been through this psychologically damaging experience have no say in how the world is run.

On the other hand, Paul Addison’s ‘The Road To 1945’ made the case for the Second World War causing the rise of the welfare state and the NHS. Rico, in the novel, is from a rich background but is treated just the same as everyone else, and it’s been claimed that the mixing of people from different social strata led to a fuller appreciation on the part of the more privileged of the lot of the lower orders. There was also more trust in giant publicly-funded projects. One thing I’m interested in but haven’t looked into yet is whether there’s a connection between the large governmentally-organised hospitals and public servant healthcare workers who must have existed at the time, and the establishment of the NHS. Maybe a society run entirely by veterans would have this aspect to it as well. It led to a historic Labour victory.

This society, then, doesn’t seem fascist. Even so, the implicit attitude to pacifism does come close. One’s supreme duty is seen as being to the state, which is the simple definition of fascism I feel most drawn to, although I admit that’s because it’s simple and not because it’s accurate. But as far as I know we don’t get to find out if it’s pluralist or not. It’s possible that there are no longer political parties because government aims at unity of purpose, which means in a sense that it’s a one party state. We do, however, know that it isn’t Communist, because the Pseudo-arachnids are portrayed as Communist and suited to it, and there are clearly private big business ventures. Pseudo-arachnids are contrasted with humans. They are portrayed as a perfectly communist society and were a stand-in for the Maoist Chinese government and possibly people in the book, except that in reality Heinlein seems to have seen Communism as unsuitable for the kind of organism which human beings are, so if anything Pseudo-arachnids are more Communist than any human group could ever be. The novel also has the Skinnies, humanoids in league with them initially but possibly through mind control rather than willingly and who switch sides later on.

The Bugs are not like us. The Pseudo-Arachnids aren’t even like spiders. They are arthropods who happen to look like . . . a giant, inteliigent spider, but their organization, psychological and economic, is more like that of ants or termites: they are communal entities, the ultimate dictatorship of the hive. Every time we killed a thousand Bugs at a cost of one M.I. it was a net victory for the Bugs. We were learning, expensively, just how efficient a total communism can be when used by a people actually adapted to it by evolution; the Bug commissars didn’t care any more about expending soldiers than we cared about expending ammo.

Hence Heinlein, or at least Juan Rico, believes that humans are not adapted to thrive under a communist system. As an ex-Stalinist, I can remember sympathising with Stalin’s idea that it was worth sacrificing a whole generation of the human race for utopia, but I don’t believe that he was trying to do that. That is, I’m sure he was persecuting a generation of the Soviet peoples (plural) but not for the sake of utopia in the long term.

The Pseudo-Arachnids (I’m not calling them “bugs”) have certain features which makes it “okay” to be speciesist against them. I’m pretty sure Heinlein is on record as saying that we will find that there are intelligent life forms in the Universe whom it’s practically our duty to exterminate because they will be essentially inimical to the human race. Making something look and behave like a giant arthropod stimulates the human disgust instinct as expressed in Torah with its list of treyf animals (but for locusts, probably because they eat all the crops so we may as well eat them). If you start with a real human target for racism and use it for propaganda purposes to distract and divide the populace, you have to impose negative stereotypes on a pre-existing set of individuals, and it’s therefore important to prevent people from getting to know them and realising they aren’t as they’re portrayed or a mass of individuals, but the Pseudo-Arachnids are carte blanche. Heinlein can write whatever he wants about them and they plainly are the “yellow peril”. But this presumably means that back in the twentieth century, in his real world, he can see that Communism isn’t working for them because they’re human and have the same proclivities and instincts as WASPs. For the purposes of the novel we can be confident that Red China could not endure because of human nature, which not only prevents Communism from functioning properly but also leads to its downfall. This is actually quite historically deterministic, which is a fixation of Marxism. For the Federation, history does have a direction and a scientific basis. It just doesn’t go in the direction of Communism.

There is plenty more to say about the novel, but its influence means that it’s also worth moving on. It’s said to be responsible for the Mecha (メカ) subgenre of anime, also known as ロボットアニメ (robotto anime) such as Neon Genesis Evangelion, and of course it also has a manga version. Indigenous Mecha pre-dates ‘Starship Troopers’ by a couple of decades, but was clearly influenced by both ‘Thunderbirds’ and the novel. There is, for example, an OVA mecha anime based on it called 宇宙の戦士 – Uchuu no Senshi – ‘Warriors of the Universe’. There’s also a board game released in 1976 and re-released as a tie-in to the film, a tabletop game, possibly an RPG, and of course the film and its apparently execrable sequels, a TV series and a 21st century video game. The only one of these I’m familiar with is the first film. I don’t want to judge the sequels without watching them but I also don’t want to watch them. The first sequel has a rating of 3.6 on IMDb, which isn’t encouraging, but of course everyone else can be wrong. I suspect what they’ve done with the sequels is cash in on the misinterpretation. I also think there’s a myth established that when the first film came out, it was misinterpreted as pro-fascist. This didn’t happen in my recollection, and I think I’m going to have to address this before anything else.

2020s fans of the film seem to make the claim that it was initially seen as almost fascist propaganda and a bit brain-dead. This, I think, is a kind of superiority thing we get nowadays where, to quote Professor Frink of ‘The Simpsons’, “No you can’t play with it! You won’t enjoy it on as many levels as I do.”. This is pretty sucky, and doesn’t reflect how it was actually received at the time. When it was first released, it was seen in the context of other Vehoeven films such as ‘Robocop’ and ‘Total Recall’. They all have a kind of grey clunky look to them, which I don’t think is merely due to contemporary influence. His films do seem to have a tendency to be misunderstood though. They’re kind of brainy action films. ‘Robocop’ is about the dehumanisation brought on by masculinity, rampant capitalism and corporate power. ‘Total Recall’ is about identity, capitalism and the nature of reality. There are other films of his I haven’t seen with more sexual themes and I don’t know about those but ‘Starship Troopers’ is in the same vein as the two just mentioned. Verhoeven has said that a major theme is that “war makes fascists of us all”. That was also how it was understood by many viewers at the time, though not all.

In a sense, the film isn’t so much about Heinlein’s philosophy as expressed in his novel as the circumstances likely to give rise to belief in such an ideology, or perhaps the result of a society run along those lines. It basically makes you root for fascists, then confronts you with the fact that it’s done so and gets you to ask yourself why. It brings out one’s inner fascist and criticises her. Several interludes in the film take the form of propaganda films modelled after ‘Triumph des Willens’ and ‘Why We Fight’. Like the novel, it’s a Bildungsroman, or rather a coming of age film in this case, following several teens out of high school, all of whom enroll in the forces and pursue their careers very successfully. Verhoeven only read something like the first two chapters of the book, so some people argue that it can’t be a real adaptation. It’s also been compared to ‘Full Metal Jacket’.

One of the major influential innovations in the novel, the powered armour, is completely absent from the film. There are many other differences, but there would probably have to be because the novel is a lot more cerebral. The film definitely goes for deliberate corniness. The initial flashforward is to the barren Pseudo-arachnid homeworld Klendathu rather than an urban Skinny environment. The mobile infantry are lower-tech. Carl is not psychic but is an electronics genius. Dizzy is female and doesn’t get killed in the first chapter. This actually changes things quite a bit as in the book the women are pilots, not ground forces. Rasczak survives well into the second half of the film rather than having died in the backstory and is merged with the teacher character Dubois. The film Johnny Rico is from Buenos Aires along with his family and both his parents get killed in an asteroid impact, along with the rest of the population of the city, giving Rico, Dizzy, Carmen and the rest a major personal grudge against the Pseudo-arachnids. In the novel, Juan’s father joins up because his wife was killed in the attack on Buenos Aires and Rico ends up as his commanding officer. The Pseudo-arachnids are generally less intelligent although there is a more intelligent caste.

It feels to me very strongly that in the film, the asteroid strike on Buenos Aires is a false flag operation to start an aggressive war against the Pseudo-arachnids. Klendathu is on the opposite side of the Galaxy to Earth so the asteroid would have to travel 80 000 light years to get to us, leaving ample opportunity for interception, and it doesn’t make sense that the asteroid would be sent from their system rather than be perturbed in this one to hit Earth. The attack on Klendathu, I also suspect, was deliberately lost. They engineered an attack on the home world in order to guarantee three hundred thousand deaths and provoke the human race into hatred and xenophobia. But maybe not. Maybe the government simply underestimates the abilities of the aliens due to its own xenophobia.

The young and central characters are all pretty people and we’re made to care about them. This establishes a deliberately superficial æsthetic contrast between them and the Pseudo-arachnids, so there’s an implicit criticism of the audience’s prejudice. What appear to be tactical shortcomings in the film may not be. There’s a planetary asteroid defence system which is not used against the asteroid which destroys Buenos Aires. The news report is deliberately gory. The Federation clearly doesn’t want the war to end. However, the society itself is remarkably egalitarian. The new Sky Marshall (i.e. Federation president) is a Black woman, there’s a mix of ethnicities who are clearly equally treated and the mix of women and men in the military and society is clearly not gender-based, less so in fact than in the novel. Violence between humans is considered normal and acceptable. There are public executions. Perhaps one of the interesting differences in the film is the emphasis on media manipulation.

Social Darwinism is a theme. One of the catchphrases is a quote from a real soldier in the book:

Come on you apes! Do you want to live forever?

– Unknown platoon sergeant, 1918.

The battle wipes out less suitable soldiers and the upper ranks of the military carry out their own eugenics by using live ammo in training exercises and shooting cowards in the battlefield. The centrality of the heterosexual romantic relationships is also about breeding in the long run. A parenthood licence is also mentioned, which is a bit strange since Rico’s parents are non-citizens.

It’s never clear what one should do when one produces a cultural artifact which is open to being taken in a way which conflicts with one’s values. One doesn’t want to talk down to one’s audience, viewership or readership, and Verhoeven doesn’t, but the result is that it has tended to be taken in a way which is opposite to his beliefs. Two other films seem to stick out as fitting into that category quite easily. There’s ‘V For Vendetta’, which seems to be taken as a rallying cry by Conservatives, and an older film, ‘They Live’, which is taken by neo-Nazis as an allegory for a Jewish conspiracy to run the world. It’s difficult to know what to do with these takes. In some cases, they might expose common ground between different political perspectives. It’s like the film is an equation which different variables can be plugged into, but perhaps the misinterpretation of ‘Starship Troopers’ is more about being overtaken by the propaganda-influenced direction than seeing it as a metaphor for different political views.

By forcing us to inhabit the minds of what is arguably fascist, both works probably help us understand one’s enemy, and that kind of empathy is in short supply right now. Consequently, Heinlein’s and Verhoeven’s talents are universally useful and could help us to have a more mutually respectful dialogue about things which matter deeply to us. Therefore, I don’t think it’s going too far to say that both the novel and the film achieve a kind of universality which makes them great and they escape from the prejudices of the author and director. At one point in the film, the Sky Marshall says that we must understand the Pseudo-arachnids in order to destroy them. Maybe we should forget about the second bit and just do the first.

Veganism And Racism

Jamaican curried tofu with chickpeas. From here . Will be removed on request.

I knew it’d come in handy!

I went vegan nearly three dozen years ago. Things have changed a lot in the intervening time, as might be expected, and the popularity of plant-based diets has grown considerably. Another trend which seems to be almost a universal law of human behaviour, or perhaps society, is that as movements become more popular they also tend to get watered-down and corrupted. Maybe it’s a form of entropy. It should probably also be borne in mind that as individual organisms, we also age, and there’s a tendency for us to think things were better in the old days, when we were younger, and since then it’s all gone wrong. I wouldn’t say this was entirely true. For instance, racism is less socially acceptable, people recognise sexual harassment as a bad thing, the police get involved in domestic violence cases and homosexuality is almost generally accepted nowadays. In that particular area, which might be described as identity politics, things are usually better.

Conceptually speaking, veganism is kind of on the edge of identity politics for a couple of reasons. One is that veganism can be legally seen as a protected characteristic, in that people are not supposed to be marginalised because of their veganism, although it isn’t quite the same as an immutable property such as disability or sexual orientation. It’s closer to political affiliation or religion. Another is that veganism is an attempt to support a group, actually the largest of all by far and not in any way a minority, which doesn’t have its own voice. People just do speak on behalf of other species because it’s impossible for most of them to speak for themselves. Unlike anti-racism and feminism, veganism could be said (although it isn’t entirely true) to consist entirely of allies, and as such it’s probably worth considering what people in the other movements regard as being a good ally.

The way veganism is constructed nowadays is influenced by commodification, recuperation and capitalism more generally, and we should therefore be wary of this. There’s a strong tendency to think of veganism as simply plant-based, and this can have undesirable consequences in, for example, the production of plant-based meat substitutes which are extensively tested on non-human animals during their development, and it can turn veganism into slacktivism, because you can end up feeling that all it takes to be vegan is to change your diet, use different cosmetics and toiletries and so forth, without, for example, thinking of the perhaps very distant and unsustainably grown sources of your food or other ingredients. Another consequence of this restriction on veganism’s scope is that it can lead us to ignore the treatment of the animal most of us have the most to do with socially – human beings. There is a sense in which nothing developed or produced under capitalism is vegan because it involves capitalist exploitation, and therefore exploitation of the animal known as Homo sapiens. To be fair, I can remember so-called “vegan” groups in the 1980s CE celebrating a coach crash because it meant the death of carnists. This is not veganism, although it is consequentialist because the idea is that the meat eaters dying would result in the deaths of fewer cows, chicken, sheep, pigs and others, something which could equally be achieved by persuading the same number of people do go vegan as crash victims. Hence it doesn’t even work from a consequentialist angle. This, then, is not veganism.

It’s true that mass media tends to present veganism as primarily White, and many people’s images of a vegan will be of a White person. In fact, Afro-Americans are twice as likely to be vegan as White people in the US and RastafarIan diets tend towards veganism. It also makes sense physiologically for most of the world’s human population not to eat dairy as adults due to the fact that White people are unusual in being able to digest dairy as adults, but this has no influence on carnism.

Some manifestations of so-called “veganism” have also been overtly racist. Two White people in Los Angeles started a blog originally called ‘Thug Kitchen’ in the ‘noughties which appropriated Afrikan-American Vernacular English, and there’s also the question of the word “thug”, which apparently has a controversial history due to having become associated with Black people. I can’t tell if this is a primarily American usage or not, but I would expect it to filter over if not. My understanding of the word “thug” is that it was originally an Indian word for a member of a gang of assassins who used to garrotte their victims, then became associated with people, regardless of ethnicity, in organised crime who commit acts of violence to the end of promoting and maintaining the reputation of the organisation or to extort money from victims. This meaning seems either to have changed or to have been different in American culture. It took several years for it to become clear to the general public that the people responsible for the site, and also apparently a book, were White people in California, after which they were accused of “digital blackface”. I would, however, say that all of this went on without me every becoming aware of it, and this makes me wonder if it’s symptomatic of commodification of a relatively ineffective and diluted version of “veganism” which is based on people hopping onto a trend, which perhaps also explains the use of something else which might be perceived as “cool” without thinking much about either.

PETA are, unsurprisingly, another offender, appropriating the notion of slavery without having any recent heritage of that form of oppression. In an ad said to have been banned by the NFL but which was supposèdly intended for the Superbowl, various animals were shown taking the knee in an attempt to draw comparisons between speciesism and racism. Although I don’t understand why this would be considered offensive, people took issue with the idea that Black people were being compared to members of other species. Now as I said, there’s a sense in which the vegan movement consists entirely of allies, so there’s a problem with understanding the nature of that comparison. Species are equal, but there is a history of denigrating humans in general and ethnic minorities in particular with non-human animals whose connotation is extremely negative, and this is a typically hamfisted and crass attempt by PETA to make a point regarding animal liberation which is not informed by this perception, or at least comes across in this way. Alternatively, maybe PETA’s strategy is to generate publicity in a Benneton kind of way by getting people to talk about their ads without regard to how it reflects on them, and more importantly on the animal liberation movement. However, I hope we can agree that PETA is not a good ally in the animal liberation movement due to other activities, which I won’t go into here.

Then there’s the question of the likes of quinoa, chia seeds and avocados. I first heard of chia seeds about seven or eight years ago and they have never been part of my diet. I’m not aware of ever having eaten them, although I may have inadvertantly done so chez someone or in a restaurant or café. The lauding of particular plant species in this way as superfoods reminds me strongly of the distortion of value in herbal medicine where more “exotic” remedies are perceived as more effective than local or indigenous species, which like so many other things is created by the alienation of use and exchange values in capitalism. It’s extremely harmful to any community which is not rich and relies on one or more of these species as a staple, because it can inflate the price out of their financial reach.

Chia seeds are from two species of Salvia, the genus containing sage and also the psychotropic Salvia divinorum. The Lamiaceæ (grrr, Labiatæ!), their family, probably contains the majority of culinary herbs such as mint and rosemary, and it’s unusual for a species in that taxon to be used for its seeds. I would imagine therefore that the process of harvesting chia seeds is quite labour-intensive compared to cereal harvesting, for example. They’re native to Central America and southern Mexico. The concern with cultivation of plant foods novel to the market in the developed world is that they may be grown unsustainably and raise the price of the food for the people who traditionally eat them. There’s also a kind of sense of exoticism about them which is fickle and rather like cultural appropriation, or may actually be cultural appropriation.

Quinoa I did used to eat. This is in the Amaranthaceæ, along, unsurprisingly, with amaranth itself. Unsurprisingly, its price has been forced up in Bolivia as a result of its popularity in the developed world, and is now less affordable to the poorer people of that country. In Perú the price is now higher than chicken, meaning of course that it has probably increased meat consumption in that country. But in both these cases, there is an issue of it bringing money into the countries in question as well, although economic diversification is also important because the problem with trends is that they can change rapidly. However, looking into this in more detail, quinoa is not a staple in the Andes, so it isn’t necessarily as big a problem as has been thought in the past.

I could continue to list questionable plant foods, but I’ll mention just two more. One is the avocado. These are, incidentally, remarkable in having been preserved by early agriculture and used to rely on giant ground sloths for their distribution, so they’d probably be extinct were it not for us. The same price increase as seen with the other species has affected avocados for the same reason, but in their case drug cartels are also involved, meaning that there’s a fair bit of violence in their production, although perhaps similar violence occurs with the cultivation of the other two plants. They apparently are a staple.

The final, notorious, species is unsurprisingly soya. My own consumption of soya is not negligible because I eat tofu although I don’t drink soya milk. There is what I regard as an unsupported rumour that the phytoestrogens in soya reduce male fertility which I can’t accept as true because of its long history of traditional consumption in East Asia. Another issue with soya is that it is largely fed to farm animals, which offsets its environmental impact considerably because it means that carnists will sometimes be contributing to any problems more than vegans who eat a lot of soya are. However, it has a significant rôle in the deforestation of South America although there has been a soya moratorium in Brazil which banned export of soya grown on newly deforested land, which, again however, may simply have meant that cows are now grazing on newly deforested land instead while the soya is grown on the older land, and Bolsonaro will presumably have done a lot of damage in that area. This may sound vague and dismissive, but here’s my point: if you eat distantly-grown food, it introduces ethical complications which you may not have the energy or access to accurate information about.

You might also object that this is not to do with racism, but when you consider that most of the countries involved are subject to colonialism, there is a historical legacy of racism here, although since the European countries took many of their resources it could also be argued that this is partly returning the money to the people affected, assuming some kind of economic equity between ethnicities now exists there.

The trouble is, of course, that to me and many other people this is not “veganism as we know it”, but some kind of trendy convenience thing which may be about image. It feels like some other lifestyle which has been taken away from what I know as veganism, and is in fact very similar to the commercialisation of what’s been labelled as Yoga. That doesn’t seem at all similar to what I think of as Yoga either, and there are racist tendencies in how Yoga is presented commercially in the West too.

As I mentioned above, Afrikan-Americans are more likely to be vegan than White Americans. I think it’s twice as likely. They’re also a lot more likely that White Americans to have reduced their meat consumption recently. Plant-based diets reduce the incidence of chronic conditions that disproportionately affect Black Americans such as hypertension, obesity, type II diabetes, heart disease and certain forms of cancer. However, they may not call themselves vegan, and I’m wondering if this is because the label is often associated with a White face. It is true that they may not be motivated by animal liberation, but there are many Whites with plant-based diets who do call themselves vegan when this is not what that is. On the other hand, they’re also more likely to live in food deserts. Since I lived for most of my life in a city with a particularly good open-air market, I don’t have experience of food deserts and am not commenting from an informed position, but I’m also in the process of writing a book entitled ‘Corner Shop Herbalism’, which is about using easily available and identifiable plants from, for example, corner shops, to improve and maintain well-being, and it would be interesting to know how applicable this is to the food desert problem. But food deserts are a much bigger problem for non-Whites. In the US, White majority neighbourhoods have four times as many grocery shops, and they also stock a wider variety of food. In order to make it easier for ethnic minorities to pursue veganism, this problem must be solved.

There is a claim that the word “speciesism” appropriates the term “racism” in a similar way to phrases like “the rape of the wild” do for rape. I find it difficult to accept this idea because of words like “sexism” and “ableism”. It doesn’t seem to me that the word “racism” stands out as something which can be owned as a reference to marginalised ethnicities. If a newly-recognised form of prejudice came to the fore, it would seem to make sense to add the suffix “-ism” to the end, and this also feels Quixotic in the wider context of how language change works. So, maybe I am speaking from a position of privilege, but it seems to me that not using the word “speciesism” fails to name the prejudice which dwarfs all others in our societies in its seriousness.

There is another, similar linguistic phenomenon I’ve already alluded to. Humans are of course hominids. Consequently, there is a sense in which we are apes. Cladistically we’re also monkeys, more specifically terrestrial Old World monkeys. However, the words “ape” and “monkey” have been used as racist epithets, and are therefore likely to trigger some Black people. It’s also important to erode the false distinction between humans and the rest of the animal kingdom, and this particular distinction is particularly instrumental in maintaining this false superiority. However, long before I went vegan, I used to consider great apes as human rather than the other way round, and this may go some way towards remedying that problem. However, we are then left with the problem of how to refer to our own species, and we do need to do this in the same way as we need to use the term “whiteness”. But there is a possible solution to this along the following lines. There is a plant popularly known as “Mother-In-Law’s Tongue”, which I always call Sanseviera because the Latin name comes across as more neutral. The same could be done with hominids and simians.

Another aspect of carnism in ex-patriate Afrikan communities and their descendants is that they may use meat of particular kinds and prepared in particular ways as part of their cultural identities. If a plant-based diet is perceived as substantially White, adopting it could feel like giving up part of that identity. Consequently, it’s important that we do what we can to ensure that such diets are not perceived as White. And in fact they really aren’t, for the reason stated above and also because of I-Tal, although not every Black person would want to identify with RastafarIanism. Interpretations of I-Tal diet vary. It isn’t compulsory in all mansions and it often includes fish, but the tendency is towards veganism and many people do interpret it as veganism. However, it doesn’t seem to be mentioned much in vegan circles for some reason.

There are also some areas I simply don’t know how to address, and these primarily involve indigenous people. It’s for this reason that I have in the past said that if veganism is racist, so be it. The issue is that there are some groups of hunter-gatherers whose lives intrinsically involve the killing, eating and other use of animals. It is often true that the people involved treat these animals with reverence, that they are not farmed but live in the wild for all their lives, and that their bodies are used efficiently once they’ve been killed, and also that if the communities concerned didn’t do this it would completely alter their lifestyles beyond recognition. It’s also known that these kinds of disturbances in the lives of indigenous peoples lead to major social and mental health problems including an epidemic in decisions to end their own lives. To be honest, I don’t know what to do about this. I am aware, though, that applying veganism to my own life benefits others and the biosphere, and the same applies to the lives of most or all people living in industrial societies.

To conclude, the takeaway from this is that the kind of “veganism” criticised as racist is actually heavily commodified and recuperated by capitalism. It focusses very much on the plant-based issue rather than the fact that veganism entails compassion for all and is therefore necessarily anti-racist. That is, if your version of “veganism” is racist, it isn’t pure veganism, although environmental, structural and institutional aspects of racism mean that real veganism is therefore very difficult. At the same time, even focussing entirely on other species, an attempt to look at veganism in an anti-racist way also reveals how there is not only structural racism but also structural speciesism, a word I make no apologies for using, for instance in the form of food deserts and the lie, yes, the LIE, that plant-based diets are expensive compared to carnist ones.

Living In The Past One Day At A Time

In this blog, I’ve made occasional references to what I call my “Reënactment Project”, which is a long-term ongoing thing I’ve been doing since about 2017. The idea is that every day I make an at least cursory examination of the same day thirty-nine years previously. The reason for choosing thirty-nine years is that for the initial year I planned to do it all the dates were on the same days of the week, meaning that the years concerned were substantially similar. The very basic arithmetic involved is of some interest and I’ll be returning to that later in the post. A side-effect of the thirty-nine year difference is that I am thirty-nine years younger than my father, so he would’ve been the age I am now back then, which focusses me on ageing, life stages and how to stay as young as possible by doing things like addressing my balance through Yoga so it doesn’t deteriorate as fast as it has for him. I can see the end result and know some of the things to avoid, which means that if I do reach his current age I’ll probably have a completely different set of health problems from which my own hopefully not estranged descendants will in turn know what they should avoid. And so on.

My motivation for doing this stems from the disconcerting awareness that we edit our memories, and are also only able to experience things as we are at the time. Also, various media and popular misconceptions lead us to forget and mutate the memories we do believe ourselves to have, and this was particularly important for 1978 as it included the famous Winter Of Discontent, also the Winter Of Discotheque, and I feel we may have been usefully manipulated into seeing this particular season in a particular way to justify everything that came after it. I also want to know how I was as a child and adolescent and pay attention to things which are the seeds of how I am now, and also that which was in me which I didn’t end up expressing. There is of course a bit of a risk here because I’m living in the past and to some extent dwelling upon it, but I do have a life outside this project and find it quite informative and enriching for today’s experiences. However, in general it’s just interesting.

I’ve now reached 1982, and am in the depths of the Falklands War, which was a significant historical event in securing Margaret Thatcher a second parliamentary term. Well, I say “in the depths”. In fact an end to hostilities was announced on 20th June and the Canberra was almost home by 7th July, which is when I’m writing this. I more or less stand by the position I had by the mid-’80s on this subject, which is that Galtieri and Thatcher were both aware that a war would be likely to boost their popularity, although at the time I thought it was an actual conspiracy between them whereas now I just think they were both aware of its expediency. It came as something of a shock to me, a year later, when I realised we didn’t have fixed-term parliaments and therefore the Tories could take advantage of their victory by calling an election whenever they wanted. ‘Shipbuilding’ is redolent of the time:

Although I know Elvis Costello wrote and performed the song, the Robert Wyatt version is the one I associate most closely with the incident. Robert Wyatt was part of the Canterbury Scene and an early member of Soft Machine, so I’m obviously more likely to associate it with him. Just in case you don’t know, Wyatt got drunk and fell out of a window in 1973, paralysing himself from the waist down. Jean Shrimpton, my second cousin once removed, gave him a car and Pink Floyd raised £10 000 for him in a benefit concert. Tommy Vance once described him as “a man who has had more than his share of bad luck in life”.

Another association I make with the Falklands from the time is a play about an Irish barman who was accepted as a member of his community in London until the breakout of the war. He finds himself sandwiched between Irish Republicans and his customers, with racism growing against him which culminates in his murder. This was originally a radio play but later appeared on TV. Although the Troubles were significant and also a spur to creativity, there was a long period during which practically every new play was about them, and it became tedious and annoying. This wasn’t yet the case in ’82 though. There’s also the 1988 BBC TV drama ‘Tumbledown’.

1982 was probably the last year there was really any hope that the previous pattern of alternating Conservative and Labour administrations we were used to would continue into the decade. In fact, this had been a relatively recent development. The first Labour government after the Second World War had been followed by thirteen years of Tory rule, and it was only after that that an alternation of parties in power had begun, lasting only fifteen years. Nonetheless, up until 1982 that’s what most people seemed to expect, and that alternation had held policies and the general timbre of the country in the political centre because the next government could be expected to come along and undo much of what the previous one had done, and so on. This was satirised on the Radio 4 comedy programme ‘Week Ending’ which depicted the future of privatisation and nationalisation as permanently oscillating ad infinitum every five years, which was probably one reason I thought we had fixed terms.

I was communist in ’82, and when I say “communist” I mean Stalinist. I took it seriously enough that I attempted to learn Russian and listened regularly to Radio Moscow, and I was very upset when Leonid Brezhnev died. I was completely convinced that what the Soviet Union was saying about us and themselves was accurate and that the BBC and the like was nothing more than propaganda. I was also very concerned indeed about unemployment, racism and homophobia. I considered being called racist to be the worst insult imaginable, which of course misses the point. I was, however, still a meat eater and was, as you can probably tell, quite naïve. I was also a lovesick teenager in love with the idea of being in love.

However, this isn’t just about 1982 and the events of that year, for me or the world, but also the value of the exercise. It’s often been suggested that I have autistic tendencies and I imagine that this kind of meticulous rerun of the late ’70s and early ’80s is going to come across as confirmatory evidence for that. Clearly people do do things just because they want to and then come up with reasons for doing so to justify themselves to other people. My novel ‘1934’ covers a community where they have chosen to relive the mid-twentieth century over and over again in an endless loop because the leaders think everything has gone to Hell in a handcart ever since, and this would not be a healthy attitude. I made the mistake, a few years ago, of re-reading my diary in a particular way and found myself falling back into the mindset I had at the time in a way which felt distinctly unhealthy. Nonetheless, I consider this activity to be worthwhile because our memories are re-written, and history is written by the winners, in this case the winners of the Falklands War, so our memories are re-written by the winners.

It’s been said that films set in the past usually say more about the time they were made than the period they’re supposed to have happened in. Hence ‘Dazed And Confused’ is really about the 1990s, for example. We generally have a set of preconceptions about a particular period within living memory which turn into a caricature of the time which we find hard to penetrate to reach the reality, and it isn’t the reality in any case because it’s filtered through the preconceptions of the people at the time, even when those people were us. This much is almost too obvious to state. However, there’s also continuity. Time isn’t really neatly parcelled off into years, decades and centuries. People don’t just throw away all their furniture at the end of the decade, or at least they shouldn’t, and buy a whole new lot. We’re all aware of patterns repeating in families down the generations. It isn’t really possible to recapture the past as if it’s preserved in amber. But it is possible to attempt to adopt something like the mindset prevalent at the time, or the Zeitgeist, to think about today, and the older you get the more tempting it is to do so. Since the menopause exists, there must be some value in becoming an elder and sharing the fruits of one’s experience, even when one is in cognitive decline. And of course the clock seems to have been going backwards since 1979, making this year equivalent to 1937. World War II was so 2019.

How, then, does 2021 look from 1982? On a superficial level, it tends to look very slick and well-presented, although airbrushing had a slickness to it too. The graphic at the top of this post is more ’87 than ’82, but it does succeed in capturing the retro-futurism. Progressive politics was losing the fight with conservatism at the time, but the complete rewrite of how we think of ourselves had not yet happened. Nowadays, people are wont to parcel up their identity and activities into marketable units because they have no choice but to do so. The fragmentation there is as significant as the commodification. The kind of unity of experience which existed in terms of the consumption of popular culture back then is gone, although it was gradually disintegrating even then. We were about to get Channel 4 and video recorders were becoming popular among the rich, although they were still insisting that there was no way to get the price below £400 at the time, which is more like £1 400 today. It’s hard to tell, but it certainly feels like the mass media, government and other less definable forces have got better at manipulating public opinion and attitudes. This feels like an “advance” in the technology of rhetoric. However, we may also be slowly emerging from the shadow of the “greed is good” ethic which was descending at the time because we’ve reached the point where most public assets have been sold off and workers’ rights have been eroded that reality tends to intrude a lot more than it used to, and I wonder if people tend to be more aware of the discrepancy between what they’re told and what their experience is. Perhaps the rise in mental health problems is related to this: people are less able to reconcile their reality with the representation of “reality”, and are therefore constantly caught in a double bind.

It isn’t all bad. It’s widely recognised now that homophobia, sexism, racism, ableism and other forms of prejudice are bad for all of us and people seem to be more aware that these are structural problems as well. Veganism is better understood but also very commercialised, taking it away from its meaning. Social ideas which are prevalent among the general public today may have been circulating in academia at the time and their wider influence was yet to be felt. This is probably part of a general trend. There was also a strongly perceived secularisation trend which has in some respects now reversed. The West was in the process of encouraging Afghan fundamentalists and they may also have begun arming Saddam Hussein by this point, although that might’ve come later. CND was in the ascendancy, and the government hadn’t yet got into gear dissing them.

Another distinctive feature of the time was the ascendancy of home microcomputers, although for me this was somewhat in the future. I’ll focus more on my suspicions and distrust here. To me, silicon chips were primarily a way to put people out of work and therefore I didn’t feel able to get wholeheartedly into the IT revolution with a clear conscience. I had, however, learnt BASIC the previous year. I don’t really know what I expected to happen as clearly computers were really getting going and it seemed inevitable. There was also only a rather tenuous connection between a home computer and automation taking place in factories. However, by now the usual cycle of job destruction and creation has indeed ceased to operate, as the work created by automation is nowhere near as much as the work replaced by it, or rather, done by computers or robots in some way. My interest in computers was basically to do with CGI, so the appearance of a ZX81 in my life proved to be rather disappointing.

1982 was also the only year I read OMNI. Although it was interesting, and in fact contained the first publication of ‘Burning Chrome’ that very year, it also came across as very commercialised and quite lightweight to me compared to, for example, ‘New Scientist’. It was also into a fair bit of what would be called “woo” nowadays, and it’s hard to judge but I get the impression that back then psi was more acceptable as a subject of research for science than it is today. This could reflect a number of things, but there are two ways of looking at this trend. One is that a large number of well-designed experiments were conducted which failed to show any significant psi activity. The other is that there is a psychologically-driven tendency towards metaphysical naturalism in the consensus scientific community which has little basis in reason. I would prefer the latter, although the way the subject was presented tended to be anecdotal and far from rigorous. From a neutral perspective, there does seem to be a trend in the West away from belief in the supernatural, and the fact that this was thirty-nine years ago means that trend is discernible on this scale.

Then there’s music, more specifically New Wave. For me, because of my age and generation, New Wave doesn’t even sound like a genre. It’s just “music”. This may not just be me, because it’s so vaguely defined that it seems practically meaningless. It’s certainly easy to point at particular artists and styles as definitely not New Wave though, such as prog rock, ABBA, disco and heavy metal, but I perceive it as having emerged from punk, and in fact American punk just seems to be New Wave to me. It’s also hard for me to distinguish from synth-pop at times. British punk could even be seen as a short-lived offshoot of the genre. By 1982, the apocalyptic atmosphere of pop music around the turn of the decade was practically dead, although I still think there’s a tinge of that in Japan, The Associates and Classix Nouveaux. The New Romantics had been around for a while by then. I disliked them because I perceived them as upper class and vapid. I was of course also into Art Rock, and to some extent world music.

In the visual arts, for me 1982 saw a resurgence in my interest in Dalí, who had interested me from the mid-’70s onward, but this time I was also interested in other surrealists such as Magritte and Ernst, and also to some extent Dada. As with New Romantics, Dalí was a bit of a guilty pleasure as I was aware of his associations with fascism. This was all, of course, nothing to do with what was going on in the art scene of the early ’80s, although I was very interested and felt passionately positively about graffiti. I felt that the destruction of graffiti was tantamount to vandalising a work of art. To be honest, although I’m concerned that people might feel threatened by it and feel a lot of it is rather low-effort and unoriginal, I’m still a fan of it, although I wouldn’t engage in it myself.

1982 was close to the beginning of the cyberpunk æsthetic. I’ve already mentioned William Gibson’s ‘Burning Chrome’, which first appeared in OMNI this month in 1982, and there was also ‘Blade Runner’, which was already being written about, again in OMNI, although it wasn’t released until September. The influence of the genre can be seen in the graphic at the top of this post. To a limited extent even ‘TRON’, from October, was a form of bowdlerised cyberpunk, with the idea of a universe inside a computer. Cyberpunk is dystopian, near-future, can involve body modification, does involve VR and has alienated characters and anarcho-capitalism, with a world dominated by multinationals. ‘Johnny Mnemonic’ had been published, also in OMNI, the year before. The question arises of how much today’s world resembles that imagined by cyberpunk, and to be honest I’d say it does to a considerable extent, and will probably do so increasingly as time goes by.

On a different note, although the days and dates match up between 2021 and 1982, this will only continue until 28th February 2023, after which a leap day for 1984 will throw them out of kilter again. It can almost be guaranteed that years twenty-eight years apart will have the same calendar. One thing which can’t be guaranteed is the date of Good Friday and the other days which are influenced by it. This means that there is almost always a difference between calendars even when the days of the week match up. I also said “almost be guaranteed”. Because the Gregorian calendar skips leap days when they occur in a ’00 year whose century is not divisible by four, we are currently in a lng run of matching twenty-eight year cycles which began in 1900 and will end in 2100. Hence up until 1928 the years of the twentieth century don’t match up on this pattern, and likewise from 2072 onward there will be another disruption of the pattern down into the future. There are also other periods which match between leap days, such as the thirty-nine year one I’m currently exploring, which began last year and includes two complete years as well. This also divides up the years a little oddly, because since I was in full-time school at the time, academic years were also quite important to me, and in fact continued to be so right into the 1990s. This makes a period between 29th February 1980 and the start of September 1980 and will also make a further period between September 1983 and 29th February 1984. Finally, astronomical phenomena don’t line up at all really. Solar and lunar eclipses, and transits of Venus and Mercury, for example, won’t correspond at all.

So anyway, that’s one of the possibly pointless things I do with my time at the moment. It does bring home to me how slowly time does in fact go, because to be honest doing this seems to have slowed the pace of the passage of time back to how it was when I was fourteen or fifteen. What other effects it has on my mind I’m not sure, although I think there must be both positive and negative influences.

Fibres Part 1

Steve made a most stimulating comment yesterday which I plan to go on about at length today regarding textiles and veganism. However, today’s post isn’t primarily about veganism so much as textiles, to a limited extent since there’s something of a gap in my knowledge there.

My mother-in-law once asked Sarada whether there was any area about which I knew nothing. The answer is of course that there are huge gaps in my knowledge, and it may be more that I’m good at sounding like I know what I’m talking about, an observation another in-law once made of me. If you remember those venerable institutions called libraries, you may also recall the Dewey Decimal Classification System, rather awkwardly named because it sounds like “duodecimal” but isn’t. It’s probably good evidence that I’m in the autistic landscape that I find it very appealing and reassuring, but my ex had problems with it because she couldn’t decide which aspect of a subject rendered it sufficiently important to place in a particular category, and she makes a good point, which however should not be entertained if you’re a librarian because then nobody will be able to find anything. Anyway, the answer is yes. There is in fact a huge hole in my knowledge in the 600s and 700s, not consistently through the whole range but in the area of things like ceramics, architecture and in particular textiles. This was particularly ironic, since my mother-in-law was a needlework teacher who had also gone so far in her education regarding embroidery that she couldn’t in fact go any further without doing it at a university, although she’d done a City & Guilds in it and had exhibitions, and she did value her knowledge but somehow didn’t recognise that for me, this was one of the biggest gulfs in my education. It wasn’t through want of trying on my part either. I enjoyed needlework at primary school and was very disappointed at not being able to pursue anything like that once I got to my secondary school due to the gender segregation of subjects. Consequently, much of what I have to say here is going to be quite naïve and it’ll probably be in the “obvious” category for many of you.

I may not know much about textiles, but I know what I like. On the ethical side, nothing I’m wearing right now corresponds to depeche mode, but all too often it does. As far as I can see, fast fashion very often seems to involve polyester, which is definitely not a Good Thing environmentally. It isn’t significantly biodegradable right now, and to some extent that’s a plus because it means it lasts longer for the consumer, but it’s also one of the worst offenders as far as shedding microplastics is concerned because it’s brittle, or so I believe. Polyester textile is the same stuff as is used to make disposable plastic water bottles, one of which happens to be sitting on this table right now although I hasten to add it isn’t mine or Sarada’s, and the mere fact that the shape of the item formed from it is very thin and cylindrical doesn’t alter its physical properties per se. In an average six kilo wash, garments containing polyester shed something like a million and a half particles of microplastic, which of course end up in the sea and elsewhere on the planet, including in food destined for human plates. We now contain plastic, all of us, and polyester’s, and therefore fast fashion’s, contribution to that is considerable. That said, as I’ve mentioned before a microörganism evolved recently capable of breaking down polyester and using it as an energy resource, and this is likely to happen, or has already happened, with many other synthetic fibres simply because as a species we are creating vast amounts of substances which are an untapped resource for other life forms and therefore new ecological niches. There is hope for the future there because the biosphere may provide to some extent. Not that this should be used as an excuse for what capitalism is putting that biosphere through, and for all we know it may have unforseen or undesirable consequences. For instance, whereas synthetics may be broken down by organisms, we don’t know that the waste products won’t turn out to be toxic, and the same materials may form part of important structures such as roads and buildings, or prosthetic parts inside human bodies keeping them alive, so do we really want these to evolve?

The picture at the top of this post is a poster for the excellent Ealing Comedy ‘The Man In The White Suit’, starring Alec Guinness. I won’t spoil it for you much although if you want all the surprises, stop reading until the next paragraph, but it’s basically about a man who invents a new textile which is incredibly tough and durable, but finds the industry won’t use it because it will put them out of business, since people will stop needing to buy new clothes. It’s also remarkably fair-handed. It portrays the trade unions and management as equally opposed to the innovation for the same reasons. Apart from the prominence of the unions, the film could be remade to day with few basic changes, and it illustrates a basic problem with capitalism: it disincentivises the production of durable goods. In fact, if the ‘White Suit’ scenario happened in real life, the problem would probably have been resolved by accelerating changes in style and fashion, and it’s notable that the fabric couldn’t be dyed because if it could, the problem would’ve been solved that way.

It’s probably fair to organise types of textiles into the following big categories: organic synthetic, organic biological, inorganic synthetic and inorganic mineral. Biological fabrics could be further divided into protein- and cellulose-based. In terms of materials which are not heavily processed or modified by industrial methods, all widely-used vegetable fibres are based on cellulose. They’re all variations on a theme, and off the top of my head they amount to cotton, ramie, canvas, bamboo, jute and sisal, with an honorable mention for rayon, which is cellulose in solution extruded through a nozzle. Among protein fibres, again practically all the widely used ones are either silk or α-keratin, unless you count leather, which is substantially collagen. Feathers are β-keratin, which is more wont to form sheets than the other form, and allows it to be iridescent, blue or green due to structural colour effects, but it isn’t really a textile and no mammals make it. Keratin, leather and silk are obviously not vegan, but they’re still interesting chemically. Keratin, being a protein, has a primary, secondary and tertiary structure. The primary structure is simply the chain of amino acid residues from which it’s made and for which the animal’s DNA codes. The secondary structure is the low-level form of small parts of protein molecules, and in the case of α-keratin is an α-helix, a spring-like shape where every amino group bonds to a carboxyl group four amino acids away from it along the chain. Two such helices bond together through the sulphide bonds on the large number of cysteine molecules. Cysteine and methionine are the two essential sulphur-containing amino acids, and their existence is crucial to the shapes of protein molecules. Cysteine’s structural formula looks like this:

Into the tertiary (largest scale) structure, these paired helices are then bonded further with others through more sulphide groups. This is why burning hair smells awful. Wool, camelhair, fur, angora, any mammalian textile you care to mention, is made of this stuff.

Silk is somewhat different. It’s produced by arthropods including silkworms, but notably also spiders and a large number of other species in that phylum. It’s made from two proteins, sericin and fibroin. Fibroin molecules are sheets described as β-sheets because of the way they’re linked together, through hydrogen bonds. Incidentally, the formation of similar sheets of amino acids occurs in Alzheimer’s disease, and since it’s difficult to break down it interferes with the metabolism of brain cells, although there are other hypotheses such as τ protein. I’m guessing this contributes to the toughness of silk. The other protein, sericin, is by amount about a third serine:

The high serine content glues the silk together and increases its strength. Silk is of course several times stronger than steel and can be used to make bulletproof vests. Unlike keratin, and therefore wool to pick a popular textile form, silk does not rely on sulphide bonds.

There is a third, little-used, animal protein thread secreted by many bivalves to anchor them to surfaces. Mussels use it to prevent themselves being dislodged from rocks by pounding waves. This is the byssal thread, and consists of collagen. It’s used to make sea silk, when secreted by pen shells, which are endangered, and although it used to be employed throughout the mediterranean it’s now only worked with by a small number of people, possibly only one, on the island of Sant’Antioco off Sardinia. Hence it’s rare and very expensive.

Getting back to wool, by which I mean generic keratin-based fibres, I’m interested in this particular column of the periodic table:

The bottom two are highly radioactive and therefore irrelevant in a universe whose strong nuclear force has the ratio it has here to electromagnetism, but the two below sulphur do sometimes occur in amino acids, substituting for it. Selenocysteine does exist in animals, and is involved in antioxidant activity. Tellurocysteine crops up in fungi occasionally. There’s also selenomethionine, which is occasionally randomly substituted for methionine, and is the form in which selenium as an essential trace element occurs in some nuts and pulses. In the crust, selenium is only about a ten thousandth as common as sulphur and tellurium is ten times rarer than that. However, there is a DNA codon which codes for selenocysteine, so in theory it would be possible to produce a sheep whose wool was based on selenium instead of sulphur, although the diet would have to be very specialised and artificially manufactured. Selenium-based wool would be somewhat denser than real wool, and tellurium-based wool denser still. However, such a concentration of selenium would be toxic to the animals concerned, so it probably wouldn’t work.

There are also plant-based protein fibres, but they’re not as successful as their animal equivalent and have to be synthesised from plant protein as they don’t exist in the living organisms themselves. Peanuts are one example, a slightly confusing one because there is also cellulose fibre in the husks. They can also be made from maize and soya. The peanut version is called ardil, and is almost forgotten. During the Second World War, there was a wool shortage for uniforms and ICI invested in developing it. For a while after the War, the wool industry was concerned about the competition, as ardil is similar to wool. However, the Groundnut Scandal put paid to it along with difficulty in competing with synthetic fibres made from petrochemicals, so it didn’t happen. However, it is technically possible to produce a wool substitute from peanuts. This is because, as is so often so, peanuts are not botanical nuts but beans, and are therefore high in sulphur-containing amino acids. Due to the random substitution which occurs in sulphur-containing amino acids in plants, ardil would have some selenium content but I won’t harp on about it. The point to bear in mind, ultimately, is that it’s entirely feasible to produce vegan “wool” from plant sources and not oil.

As they come, most plant sources of fibre are extremely monotonous. They’re basically all cellulose, although they do have different qualities. This makes them harder to dye than wool. Cotton and linen are the most obvious and until recently the most familiar. Cotton is a mallow, like marsh mallow and hollyhocks, and has an historical association with the slave trade. There was also some kind of controversy about its production in India in the nineteenth century. Today, nine-tenths of Indian cotton is Bt cotton genetically modified to produce its own insecticides as found in a bacterium called Bacillus thuringiensis, and is banned in several other places, although it may not actually reduce the use of pesticides or increase yield. It’s been blamed for an increase in Indian farmers ending their lives triggered by economic difficulties. I perceive cotton as the default plant fabric. However, this has not been the case historically. Flax, the source of linen, was widely used in the past and has the issue of its fibres being covered in wax, which makes it even harder to dye. Canvas, made from hemp, is a heavier fibre similar to the related ramie, made from stinging nettles. These are traditionally “retted”: left in water for the non-cellulosic matter to decompose. After that they’re rinsed and ready for cloth. Sisal and jute are more like sackcloth and not really suitable for clothing. A newcomer is bamboo, which deserves its own section.

Bamboo is, crucially, a monocotyledon rather than a dicot. Among the distinctive features of monocots is that they never have secondary thickening, that is, they are never trees. The plants referred to as trees among those plants, such as bananas and palms, are in fact not. This is important because it means they don’t take so much time to grow and can grow in smaller spaces, such as steeper slopes, than trees can. Bamboo only takes a little over three years to grow to a usefully harvestable form. It can also be grown in temperate regions such as Canada, although of course most bamboo is from China. This means it has a longer supply chain and is harder to audit ethically than more local products, and the reason most of it is from China is that the working conditions there are worse. Although the fact that bamboo can potentially reduce deforestation because it can be grown in terrain unsuitable for forests, its popularity means that forests, including ancient woodland, are cut down in order to grow it and biodiversity is reduced due to the fact that this is then a monoculture. Moreover, wild bamboo is also “mined” unsustainably due to this pressure. However, it produces 35% more oxygen than trees and has a lower carbon footprint than either European conifer forests or FSC certified tropical hardwoods. Talking of certification, however, this doesn’t exist yet for bamboo because its use in the West is a recent development. Bamboo products generally have a much higher carbon footprint than their wooden analogues because they’ve been transported here from China. Although bamboo can be retted, it’s usually just rayon, which makes the comparison with trees particularly relevant, and at this point I should discuss rayon as such.

Rayon is cellulose dissolved in a solvent and then recovered back from it (people know this, don’t they? Help me out someone: I think this is common knowledge but I’m not sure). There’s an older method which was used in the nineteenth century and a newer one which began in the 1920s. The newer method produces a textile referred to as viscose rayon because the solvent used is viscous. This method is also more convenient because it can cope with lignin, the main constituent of wood, meaning that a cotton-like fibre can be made directly from wood as a raw material. The original idea was to make a cheaper and easier silk substitute, although it doesn’t seem very similar. It has the advantage over cotton of not pilling so easily because the fibres are basically homogenous smooth cylinders, and it’s smoother and shinier than cotton. A more recent form is modal, which unlike rayon can be tumble-dried and can also be stronger generally.

The last fibre I want to cover today is Vinalon or Vinylon – 비닐론. This is associated strongly with North Korea and is made from anthracite and limestone, minerals available in the country. Whereas I am no fan of North Korea, it’s worth noting that it was invented by the Japanese some time before the country came into existence, and the ingenuity is admirable as such. It’s a rather stiff fibre used for most clothing in the country and clearly its Green credentials are other than marvellous. It forms part of an attempt by the country to achieve economic self-sufficiency, and whereas Juche – 주체사상 – cannot be described as in any meaningful way communist, it is true that in order to avoid economic leverage or sabotage, it might make sense for this to be an aim in a country attempting to oppose global capitalism.

Since this is getting rather long, I’m going to break off at this point and continue tomorrow.

Veganism As She Is Spoke

Photo by Anete Lusina on Pexels.com

When I first went vegan in 1987, the internet was this thing hardly anyone had heard of which was hard to navigate and didn’t have any websites. I imagine it did have Usenet groups on veganism,vegetarianism and animal liberation, but at the time, although I was aware of it, Usenet to me meant “buy a really expensive computer and run up a huge ‘phone bill”, and I didn’t even have a ‘phone connection at the time, Nowadays many people’s experience of the internet as such consists largely of social media, podcasts and video streaming services, which is very different, but the same kind of interaction as used to happen on bulletin boards and news groups is replicated, writ large, in these places. Consequently, one sees opinions expressed which can come across as rather odd, and likewise one’s own opinions can be read similarly. In a way, this whole post could be seen as a case study of online interaction in the ’20s, but it’s also specific to veganism.

I went vegan in 1987, and lapsed a few years later because I started to become psychotic due to B12 deficiency. This made me afraid to try going vegan again for quite a while although the deliberate animal product content in my diet was always rather low. I am now vegan again, and have been for a number of years. It occurs to me now that I’m already falling into the trap of talking about veganism as if it’s a stricter form of vegetarianism. In fact the two are not necessarily that similar.

To quote the Vegan Society which was set up in 1944 and invented the word:

“Veganism is a philosophy and way of living which seeks to exclude—as far as is possible and practicable—all forms of exploitation of, and cruelty to, animals for food, clothing or any other purpose; and by extension, promotes the development and use of animal-free alternatives for the benefit of animals, humans and the environment. In dietary terms it denotes the practice of dispensing with all products derived wholly or partly from animals.”

Now, two things about this. One is that humans are animals. Therefore veganism seeks to exclude as far as is possible and practicable all forms of exploitation of and cruelty to humans for any purpose; and by extension promotes the development and use of alternatives for the benefit of all humans and the environment. Humans are the animals whom most of us interact with most and therefore can have the most impact on ethically, partly because humans are also moral agents. This makes veganism something like pacifism or perhaps socialism or green anarchism rather than a dietary pursuit, and this is not a new definition either, nor what the Vegan Society came up with in 1944. There was at first no definition, then in 1949 came a definition which included generic masculinity, but it was never just about diet. A plant-based diet is more along the lines of vegetarianism, and can be pursued for non-ethical reasons. By contrast, although vegetarianism is often adopted or maintained for ethical reasons, that isn’t what vegetarianism is. Vegetarianism is a diet which excludes any part of the body of an animal consumed intentionally. We do of course all eat animals, because there are animals in our food, we may accidentally inhale gnats and so forth, and of course we constantly tread on small animals and kill them and our immune systems are constantly engaged in wholesale slaughter, but there is no mens rea there.

The other thing about this is what constitutes an animal, and this seems to make me rather heterodox compared to some other vegans. My definition of an animal is “a multicellular heterotrophic eukaryote without cell walls”, and also I’m one of those nightmare caricature vegans who believes that plants have feelings. I’ll come to that. In any event, my definition of an animal seems to differ from that of some other people who call themselves vegan, and this comes out in language use.

I’m on a particular Facebook group for vegans which I find a little irritating as it seems to focus substantially on what you can buy in shops which substitutes for various animal products such as meat, cheese and eggs. Leaving that aside, nobody can really vet who joins, so it may be that many of the members are not vegan. If they do see themselves as vegan, some of them seem to fall rather short of the standard. On the group, I’ve seen animals being described as “vermin” or “hazards”, which to me is not vegan language but objectifying. For instance, there was a recent discussion started by a motorist who accidentally ran over and killed a rodent. One of the responses was along the lines of “there are people suffering atrocities in the world and publicly-funded bodies which work hard to keep you and your family safe from vermin, and you should get things in proportion”. This struck me as a deeply non-compassionate response, and it made it seem that rodents just don’t matter ethically. I have to say I don’t understand why opinions like this are expressed on the group, and I wonder if it’s because people are oriented around a plant-based diet rather than ethics.

There was also a discussion about plant consciousness, because as I’ve said I do believe plants are conscious because I’m panpsychist and probably hylozoist too. I’ve been into more depth on that link. Going into more scientific-style detail, I’ll begin by mentioning a few obvious examples of plants responding noticeably to stimuli. The most evident ones are Mimosa pudica, a plant which wilts when touched, the various heterotrophic plants such as the Venus fly trap and sundew, plants such as sunflowers, whose inflorescences follow the Sun and the numerous plants whose flowers and inflorescences open during the day and close at night. There are also the swimming microscopic unicellular algæ such as Chlamydomonas or Volvox, and plants such as liverworts producing semen rather than pollen. All of this, though, is biassed towards movement because we happen to be errant animals. Many animals are sessile and much of what we do has little to do with moving. In a sense this is an anthropomorphic view, and in fact our brains themselves, often understood to be seats of consciousness, don’t move of their own accord but are transported around in the vehicle of one’s body.

Over two dozen years ago, it was found that forest trees share and exchange nutrients such as minerals and sugar via a symbiotic underground network of fungi nicknamed the Wood Wide Web, also known as the mycorrhizal network. They are unable to thrive without this network and use it to gather their own water and minerals. Conifers at least, if not broadleaved trees, also share their carbon via sugar with related seedlings. Radiocarbon labelling of carbon dioxide built into sugar by the photosynthesis of trees has resulted in the labelled carbon showing up in closely related seedlings nearby but not more distant relatives, after the seeds have left the tree. The topology of this mycorrhizal/tree network is the same as that of a brain, with modules like the lobes of a brain, and at least one substance used as a neurotransmitter, glutamate, is also used for communication in this symbiotic network. If a tree is sufficiently injured that it’s likely to die, it will give up its own nutrients and distribute them via the Wood Wide Web to nearby trees and boost their health. If one is attacked by parasites such as aphids or caterpillars, it again signals to other trees in the vicinity and they will boost their resistance to these parasites. Orchids also fool this system to redirect nutrients to themselves from trees. I always see orchids as flowers who think they’re fungi.

Although this doesn’t mean individual trees are conscious, it does suggest entire forests are. The differences between them and brains is more to do with scale and time than anything real, and since we don’t know why we’re conscious it seems presumptious to posit that trees are not, particularly given this mountain of evidence of their similarity to brain cells.

A vegan who does not wish to acknowledge plant consciousness may opt for a solution to the mind-body problem which allows them to do this, because this is how metaphysics tends to work. It manufactures spurious excuses for ignoring real ethical issues, as I found when I was at Warwick and Christine Battersby denied that other species were conscious because they didn’t use language. How very convenient that their voicelessness allows the voiceless to be disregarded and ignored. And this from a major feminist thinker.

Back to the subject of fungi. I asked someone on the group if he ate fungi and he replied that he did not. The relevance of this is of course that fungi are not plants. This may or may not be a technical distinction. Trivially speaking, he almost certainly does eat fungi because their spores are ubiquitous and therefore all over much food just as bacteria are. Moreover, not only does this imply that he doesn’t eat mushrooms, but also anything with yeast in it, and that’s a tall order, as many observant Jews would tell you. It doesn’t just mean not eating bread, yeast extract and fermented beverages. Many fungi occupy what I consider a confusing place in the food chain. My initial motivation for becoming vegetarian was based on tropic levels. Eating animals is inefficient because they eat either other animals themselves or plants (or in a few cases just bacteria or fungi) and then run some of the energy gained off, but they may eat things we can’t get nutrition from ourselves. In general, though, it makes more sense to eat the producers rather than the consumers because that way, more people can be fed and less land or water, or just area, needs to be used. This is why the world does not have a population problem regarding food. It has a capitalism and a “people not being veggie” problem. Fungi, however, don’t fit neatly into this because they’re the organisms who complete the cycle, so it’s harder to work out how efficient they are. Incidentally, psychologically my vegetarianism worked as follows. Once I’d accepted the tropic levels argument, I mainly gave up meat on that basis, but having done so I no longer needed the rationalisations often employed by people who wish to continue their carnism, so I dropped them and it became primarily about animal liberation. Fungi, though, are potentially problematic for another reason. Slime moulds are, well, I hesitate to say “intelligent enough”, but are capable of navigating mazes and solving the Travelling Salesperson Problem. This last capacity puts them in that respect beyond the capacity of human intelligence, because we can’t. However, slime moulds are technically not fungi but amœbozoa, which are protists, formerly classified as animals. It should probably also be borne in mind that the forest communication system just mentioned is genuinely fungal.

The way I reconcile this, because it means that whatever I eat, sticking with that for now, will cause death and suffering, is to consider the larger number of organisms harmed on a higher tropic level, and this applies to arable farming as well as livestock farming, so the excuse that vegans are responsible for more animal deaths doesn’t hold together either.

That’s one issue. There’s another regarding eating bivalves which I’ve gone into some time ago. But there’s a third which is quite far-reaching and has been bothering me since childhood.

There’s a well-known adage about psychopaths and serial killers that in childhood they were cruel to members of other species, which doesn’t seem to work at all. Many tales are told of people who became serial killers as adults who were notably cruel to “animals” when they were young. For instance there’s this article (plus one by PETA which I shall studiously ignore because they suck). Jeffrey Dahmer and Ian Brady are examples given in that article, which seems not be publicly accessible, and talks about cats and dogs – placental mammals. I sometimes wonder if this is an artifact of other aspects of antisocial personalities, not that they are cruel, but that their cruelty is discovered. In a survey of Romanian teenagers, 86% said they thought it was normal to see animals tortured or killed, which is because there are many feral dogs in that country. Those who witnessed these incidents were more likely to kill themselves or self-harm, and again I feel this is a crude understanding of self-harm.

However, as a child I was aware that boys in my village routinely killed and tortured animals, particularly fish, and I think that there is a conceptual chain of being involved here where those incidents of cruelty are discounted compared to cruelty to birds or other mammals. Now we live in a society where there are serial killers who may have been unusually cruel or murderous to dogs and cats as children, but the question arises of what kind of society we’d be living in if similar cruelty against other classes of animal than just birds and mammals was taken as seriously. I’ve lost count of the number of conversations with people who seem to think that veganism is about avoiding cruelty to “animals”, when in fact they are at most including birds, mammals and sometimes other vertebrates, and as the conversation mentioned above has it, apparently not even other members of our own superorder such as rodents. As I say, it’s hard to interpret what’s going on here because nobody knows who is actually vegan, and I suspect there are quite a few plant-based diet followers on that group who don’t actually care about the ethics.

It would be remiss of me to ignore a notorious YouTube video about veganism being incompatible with socialism.

More views for her of course. In this video, Unnatural Vegan confuses neoliberalism with social democracy, which isn’t a good look and doesn’t inspire confidence in her other opinions. She is of course 100% wrong. One notable aspect of this video is that she appears to be arguing from a utilitarian perspective – actions are right in proportion that they tend to promote the greatest happiness of the greatest number. She describes herself as a consequentialist. Her opinions are in fact so at odds with consistent veganism that I almost wonder if she’s actually advocating for veganism or is some kind of “plant” (pun unintentional). But that’s just paranoia and not productive. Just looking at her ideas and arguments is a better approach. Her consequentialism is significant because she argues that injustice is only wrong when it harms people, which is the utilitarian problem with justice. Utilitarianism does not seem able to account for justice per se. To a utilitarian, two situations with the same degree of happiness and unhappiness, one of which is fair and the other not, are morally equivalent, which is widely seen as a major flaw in that ethical theory. The reason this argument is made is that animal “rights” have historically often been understood as following from utilitarianism, which incidentally is why those quotes are there – utilitarians don’t believe in rights as real or meaningful – “nonsense on stilts” is the phrase. Thought Slime has done a thorough job on this, so I’ll just embed his video instead of continuing further:

Having said all that, there is another interesting perspective on animal liberation which is not left wing. If you believe human nature is broken and either unfixable or that we should take advantage of that brokenness to the general benefit of society, your view of other species might well be that they do not suffer from this brokenness. For instance, they don’t know right from wrong, they’re not selfish, not scheming and so forth. As such, it’s a valid view that they should not suffer from our natural tendency to exploit them and willingness to turn a blind eye to their suffering and death, and therefore you can actually perfectly validly be both right wing and in favour of animal liberation. At some point I’m going to have to address the issue of politics vs. people, but once again this is beyond the scope of this post.

There is one final thing I think I should say about veganism as a diet. Nowadays it’s been assimilated by capitalism, with the result that all sorts of products are marketed at us, often in the form of meat and dairy substitutes, and this probably contributes to the perception that veganism is a luxury for the rich. This is not the case. It is the case that companies are trying to market this idea and get us to spend lots of money on a plant-based diet when we needn’t. That said, there might be a problem in the form of food deserts. There is a branch of Spar near where I used to live in Leicester where I used to go occasionally trying to find something to eat, and it was seriously full of practically useless, non-nutritional foods and other products. I can imagine this is the case in horribly wide areas in some parts of the country, and part of the solution would be to grow food on brownfield sites, which often coincide, but the will has to be there along with a reluctance to trash them from the authorities and others. There are various factors involved in food deserts, including the sheer absence of outlets of healthy food, the affordability of any food of that kind which does exist and the availability of fresh produce. Against this one might set the fact that supermarkets deliberately make unsold food inedible, the existence of product “mountains” and the difficulty of getting local authorities to agree to allotments and other means of growing healthy food. Leaving all this aside though, if you can get the food, and we’re only really talking the likes of rice, baked beans, lentils, bananas and so forth, it is undoubtedly affordable and probably cheaper than a meat-based diet. Veganism is being saddled with an undeservèdly privileged image. What you do when you go vegan is not to replace all the things you ate before with a vegan alternative: you redesign your entire diet on nutritional principles and you research the sources, which incidentally very often include what people think of as weeds such as stinging nettles and dandelions. It isn’t hard, and it’s a moral imperative.

Let The Bodies Pile Up In Their Billions

It’s been mentioned that They might just be planning our extinction. That is, it may be that the ruling class, having realised that the planet is in trouble and that automation makes most workers unnecessary, might just have quietly decided that if the majority of the human race gets wiped out by various disasters it might be no bad thing for them. I’m going to call this Their Extinction. Although they might have miscalculated and believe themselves to be invulnerable when they aren’t, in which case it will literally be their extinction, I don’t actually mean that they will themselves die out but that the scenario they have in mind is their solution to their problems, which are not our problems. But there’s also Our Extinction: the extinction that we can own. This is what’s been referred to as voluntary human extinction, or anti-natalism. It’s been summed up, perhaps inaccurately, as “Live Long And Die Out”, and is also called anti-natalism because it’s against the idea of having any more babies.

On the one hand, then, there’s the STARK Conspiracy, a fictionalised version of the first plan written up by Ben Elton in his I assume well-known novel and later TV series ‘STARK’. On the other is VHEMT, pronounced ‘Vehement’ – the Voluntary Human Extinction Movement. It must be borne in mind that the former is fictional, and therefore probably doesn’t reflect reality. We have to be very cautious at this point about conspiracy theories, and in fact that should probably be addressed first.

Conspiracy theories give the illusion of explanation when in reality they only serve a psychological purpose of giving people a sense of certainty and a superficial hypothesis to account for perceived situations. Most of the time they have no basis in reality, although occasionally they have. The Tuskegee Syphilis Study, for example, did turn out to be real. In the unlikely event that you don’t know what this was, the CDC deliberatedly infected Black men with syphilis spirochaetes and refrained from treating them to study the progress of the disease without treatment. Not only were they infected, but of course they passed it on to their sexual partners and children. There was no informed consent. This took place between 1932 and 1972. That, then, is a real conspiracy. They do happen. They may not be the point though. The point is really that we live in a situation where large-scale conspiracies are possible and can be influential. In other words, this world with this system, antisocial people controlling society, the ability to wield large scale power, corruption and so forth. Conspiracies, which are in any case probably not as widespread as they seem to be, are a symptom, not the disease. Whether the disease is endemic to the population or not amounts to a political stance. But exposing conspiracies may be pointless because clearing one up leaves space for another. That’s all assuming that major conspiracies exist of course.

There’s also the question of how much a conspiracy “theory” is even a theory. It’s usually more a hypothesis with strong confirmation bias. We think there’s a conspiracy and go on to perceive positive signs of one everywhere. They don’t seem to be testable or falsifiable propositions so much as belief systems which cause one to seek confirmatory evidence. Hence it might be better to call them “conspiracy hypotheses” just to encourage one to bear in mind that they are not rigorously arrived at on the whole.

The next step is to bear in mind the superficiality of their explanatory power. There are ideologies and social and political theories about economics, politics and the social realm which one may agree or disagree with but have sophisticated approaches to society. For instance, there’s the trickle-down theory, which I’ve chosen because I disagree with it but it’s considered respectable. This is the idea that the rich should be taxed less because their wealth will enable them to provide greater employment opportunities for the poor, whose income will therefore increase. And it is true that money doesn’t generally just sit in banks doing nothing, but is often invested and used elsewhere. My point being that I appreciate the reasoning behind this and have a limited amount of respect for it, but I do have some. It makes more sense than the idea that the Illuminati are running the world right now. Incidentally, even if they were it wouldn’t make it any worse than it already is, and might even make it better (but read the blog post if you like).

One conspiracy which did turn out to be true, and was on a larger scale than some, was the one involving Cambridge Analytica. It’s tough to make a case for that being irrelevant although it remains so that a different form of democracy and media and social media ownership and influence would have made it harder for it to succeed, so it is still symptomatic.

We’re left, then, with cock-ups. That’s rather flippant, but to be more serious about it, there are concerted attempts to do things surreptitiously, and there’s the general inability and incompetence of muddling through and hoping things will be okay. It isn’t at all clear what’s happening with Their human extinction. Science strongly supports the existence of various issues whose confluence could be expected to wipe out the species, such as anthropogenic climate change, plastic pollution, oceanic acidification and the appearance of new pandemics among humans. There’s a remarkable response to this among governments which either involves complete silence and failure to address the problems or denial, and it isn’t clear if this is disingenuous or not. It’s possible that they are psychologically speaking in denial about it, and of course that’s an early stage of grieving. Alternatively, it might just be propaganda and they know the score, and given the fossil fuel lobby’s successful decades-long obfuscation, that seems more likely.

The question then arises, if they know, what does it mean that the general public is unable to perceive a response to the crisis? Does it mean they’re doing nothing, or are they doing something so unpopular that the public would find it unacceptable? The problem is that silence is hard to interpret. We do know that the majority of the human race is in mortal danger. That much is undeniable. A clue as to what might be happening could be found in the current mass murder of the poor which is taking place in the UK.

In the past, undesirables have of course been rounded up and put in concentration camps, which are a British invention. This is a fairly expensive solution, although it does allow for the spread of lethal infections fairly easily, for which treatment would be counterproductive. In a move reminiscent of care in the community, it’s now possible for people to be killed in their own homes or on the streets through benefit sanctions or by encouraging assault against them, and this resembles the idea of privatisation – “individuals and their families” – quite closely. Therefore I imagine the plan is to encourage the degradation and habitability of the planet until it becomes impossible for poor people to survive. Perhaps “encourage” is the wrong word, as it suggests agency. It’s more a question of the problem of potentially uncoöperative poor people whose services are no longer required due to automation by allowing them to die. This is a fairly straightforward, not really conspiratorial scenario which resembles other policies in its laissez faire quality. In fact it isn’t so much a policy as the absence of one.

Ben Elton had a somewhat different idea of what was planned, and although his novel had a humorous purpose he’s known for his axe-grinding. ‘Stark’ has been described as “their solution”, and it’s only a very limited one although it kind of is. Elton envisaged the rich engineering an economic crash which rendered the resources more affordable, followed by the construction of a self-sustaining orbital habitat to which the super-rich would escape, but also envisaged them killing themselves after a few years due to something like boredom and disillusionment. I can’t remember the plot that well, but if it did involve going into orbit, the question is, what happens next? How should we feel about their descendants, assuming there are any? Is there another social struggle after most of us have died? Would their children be responsible for the ecocide committed on this planet and the extinction of the vast majority of the human race?

Something I keep meaning to get round to talking about here is the concept of “Up Wing”. The concept has changed over the past few decades, but there are suggestions that Left and Right be replaced by Down and Up. Brian Stableford calls these “Green” and “Grey”, but that isn’t quite what I mean. Up wing politics supports the idea of technological progress and Down wing believes that technological innovation has become detrimental to the human race. In the context of human extinction, the idea that technological innovation is harmful to us is not simple because in a way, some people would prefer us to die out as that could promote the recovery of the biosphere. This is still not the place, unfortunately, to go into too much depth on this issue, but I often feel it’s a major thing I’m not mentioning with big flappy ears, wrinkles and a proboscis. I’ll get round to it someday. But I will say, in spite of my endless invective against capitalism, this is not the whole story.

Moving on, there’s “our extinction”. The meaning of “our” here is quite limited because I’m not personally convinced by this position, although it might be better to orchestrate it rather than having it thrust upon us. The Voluntary Human Extinction Movement, also known as VHEMT, espouses what’s known as “anti-natalism”, in this case with a Green tendency. I first came across VHEMT in the early 1990s in connection with Earth First!, a group with which I have major issues, but I can see the point of VHEMT itself. The movement takes a humorous approach to the issue of environmental devastation, although the underlying message is serious. The thesis is basically that the existence of human beings on this planet, in their current state at least, is harmful to all life on Earth and therefore that we should stop having children and deliberately die out, as peacefully as possible. In fact I get the impression that they believe that no manifestation of human life and culture on this planet or off it is positive for the biosphere. Right now, it does appear that if we were all to disappear tomorrow, the planet would quickly bounce back from the damage we’ve done, and this chimes with James Lovelock’s earlier opinion on the Gaia Hypothesis that human arrogance alone makes us believe that we can have a long-term impact on the survival of life on this planet, and that we metaphorically amount to a case of the common cold, which Gaia could easily shake off. Rather disturbingly, Lovelock has now changed his mind and now believes that the Singularity will save the planet but that if we continue in the same vein life will indeed become impossible here. In any event, VHEMT are not misanthropic, but actually want to spare us all from the disasters which will ensue if we continue as we have been. They also acknowledge that the chances of everyone deciding to stop breeding are effectively zero, but that it’s still worth trying, presumably because good will is the only moral impulse (this is Kant’s idea incidentally – I didn’t get this from them). This is reminiscent of my attitude towards veganism, or rather a plant-based diet, in that although I believe it’s essential for human survival given current conditions, that doesn’t mean I think most of the human race will ever adopt such a diet. Nonetheless it isn’t about that for me. It’s just about not being part of the problem in that respect. In other ways I am part of the problem. Likewise with VHEMT. Interestingly, they also have a concept of THEM – Terrorist Human Extinction Movement – which is the military-industrial complex and amounts to the tendency I described in the first part of this post.

They also want to clear up some misconceptions. They are pro-parent, pro-child, voluntary and life-affirming. They believe that children who already exist deserve a good life, which is in fact one motivation for them advocating this view – the starving children cliché. Given that children exist, they also need good parenting. They are not imposing the idea on anyone, i.e. they don’t believe in enforcing anything like abortions, sterilisations or contraception. Finally, they are life-affirming: they don’t want more people to die than are dying already or for people to kill themselves.

I hope I’ve given them a fair press there. It’s also quite persuasive to argue that if a person in a rich country, particularly a middle-class person, has children, those children will then probably go on to consume and cause more damage to the planet over their many decades of life, as would further descendants and so forth up until the point where human life on this planet becomes unsustainable. I do not, however, agree with them.

VHEMT abuts onto several other issues in an interesting way. One of these is the GSM community. If the idea of sex for physical reproduction is abandoned, it makes it harder to argue for heterosexuality being better than homosexuality, and of course if the infliction of existence is seen as a negative, it could even make sex for the purposes of procreation morally inferior to sex where procreation is impossible. However, I wouldn’t entirely agree with that portrayal of queerness as many lesbians, gay men and trans people do in fact want children, and gender dysphoria can even include the negative perception of one’s own barrenness or sterility, because one may be technically fertile but is unable to procreate in the manner which is congruent with one’s gender identity. There’s also the concept of freedom from children. Patriarchy often means that initially similar circumstances gradually drift towards more rigidly circumscribed gender rôles because of such factors as potential employers’ expectation of the nature of one’s parental responsibilities and the biological clock.

Antinatalism generally is often motivated by other reasons than simply hastening the demise of the species. Although I personally consider the coming into existence of a sentient being as morally neutral, it’s undeniable that into every life a little rain must fall. There are claims that our memory is selective and that we rationalise our suffering to minimalise it, partly because we are instinctively driven to stay alive, reproduce and raise children.

There is a sense in which I am myself antinatalist, though not usually about humans. I would far rather not be infested with parasites than have to debate myself over the moral quandary of killing them, and I would definitely prefer houseflies not to breed in my home. I’m also pro-choice, so to that extent it does apply to my own species. In a sense, anti-natalism could be seen as assessing the quality of human life sufficiently negatively that it means that it is usually or always better not to be born. That said, we do have children, although we limited it to two because that amounts to zero population growth if universalised. I should point out that I only really believe in zero population growth for the developed world because of our greater potential for environmental damage, the lower need for support from one’s children and the easy availability of contraception. I wouldn’t impose that on others in the majority of the world, and I wouldn’t even impose it on anyone else. It probably goes without saying that most vegans are probably antinatalist with regard to farm animals, and I’m no exception. I don’t believe that farm animals should continue to be bred and a lot of the time the breeds themselves have been modified with purely human benefit in mind. I do, however, believe in animal sanctuaries if livestock (horrible word) farming has ended.

There are a few issues with human extinction being a positive thing. We don’t appear to be moving towards a managed or planned extinction for a start, and this is problematic because if we leave our machines running, as it were, the risks to various localities become considerable. We have stored toxic chemicals, biological weapons and nuclear facilities, and if any of these fail without human supervision, the environment in the vicinity at least will be severely damaged and at best take a long time to recover. On the other hand, mass extinctions can be increase biodiversity. The problem with this view, though, is that it focusses on proliferation of variety rather than the suffering and death of the creatures going extinct or otherwise being harmed.

There’s a long history of communities which decide not to have children and die out. Entire religious sects have done so. The Shakers, for example, founded in the eighteenth century, were celibate after admission, although they allowed people to join when they were pregnant and they adopted children. The sect found it difficult to support itself economically because mass production was bringing the price of the kind of goods they made by hand and sold down, and there was a constant decline in membership, which peaked at six thousand in the early nineteenth century. There appear to be only two left although they hope others will join them. This is the reason I don’t think movements like VHEMT will succeed: they won’t pass their ideas on to new generations of their own and belief systems acquired during childhood are the most durable for adults. Therefore they would have to rely on converting people, and I just don’t think this is going to happen, so for me it isn’t a question of whether it’s desirable but how likely a planned extinction is by this method.

One of the arguments the founder of the movement, Les Knight, made for human extinction was that even if we were able to achieve harmony with the planet in the short term, this could later change. This seems erroneous to me because the forces of oppression need to win every battle but the forces of liberation only need to be victorious once, provided they’ve truly won, and a sustainable society is only possible if society is liberated.

There’s also the Medea Hypothesis, the “evil twin” of the Gaia Hypothesis. This is the claim that life tends towards self-destruction of its environment. For instance, a few æons ago microörganisms began to produce oxygen via photosynthesis, which poisoned most of the other organisms alive at that point and it took the planet many millions of years to adjust. In general, microbes are seen as responsible for the catastrophes associated with this, and therefore the idea of stewardship by humans could make sense. Maybe we could monitor the biosphere for threats and prevent them. Believers in this hypothesis would attribute the current crisis to it, although this time it isn’t instigated by microörganisms. However, we technically have a choice. Given that some time in the next æon there will be another Medean event, when the Sun wipes out all complex life on this planet leaving only microbes, the presence of intelligent tool users at that point, even if not human, or in fact any successful establishment of biodiverse settlements elsewhere in the Cosmos could have led to the survival of the kind of complex life which originated here. So maybe we owe it to the Universe to continue to survive.

Boris Johnson has recently been criticised for his alleged statement, “let the bodies pile up in their thousands” in response to lockdown measures. He may well not have said this. However, it is the case that the policies his and other governments pursue guarantee that the bodies will in fact pile up in their billions unless something is done. It seems there are three options: their extinction, in the sense that we all drift into a situation where almost everyone dies; our extinction, where VHEMT’s idea catches on universally, and the scenario where we survive. That last scenario is incompatible with capitalism of course, which makes it improbable, but if we did, stewardship to prevent future non-human caused disasters would seem to be morally incumbent upon us.

Utopia Is A Necessary Evil

I don’t want to turn this into a mere tit-for-tat argument between the two of us having this discussion on here, but I value the input of people who comment on my blog, so I’m going to address something here which has been bugging me for a long time. It’s to do with the nature of utopia.

Obviously, being left-wing I believe in a socialist utopia, but beyond that I believe it’s an urgent necessity. To clarify that, I should be more precise about what I mean by “believe”. I believe that utopia is desirable. That doesn’t mean I believe it’s realistic. That said, I should also explain what I mean by “realistic”. In fact, I might not even be talking about utopia, depending on how low the bar is set. I believe in a fundamental right to food, clothes and shelter. To me that’s basic good sense, following from the idea that there is a human right to life. If that isn’t self-evident to someone who isn’t psychopathic or sociopathic, I can only imagine that they’ve been conditioned in some way to believe something completely against good sense, and of course that happens a lot because there are such things as religious fundamentalism and believers in a flat Earth. However, that doesn’t mean it can actually happen given our current position.

If you confine your actions to achieving aims you feel completely confident can be reached, you’ll be confined to what the rich and powerful are willing to concede, which isn’t very much. One way to achieve a target is to aim beyond it. Hence utopianism has a role in that respect. However, this isn’t utopianism. It isn’t utopianism to expect people to be fed, clothed and housed in the world’s richest countries where most of the billionaires live. The question also arises of how those people have come to have so much money. If a worker deserves to be paid according to the usefulness of her work, there would appear to be a limit to how much someone can literally speaking earn, and the usefulness of the work done by the people concerned seems to be rather limited. For instance, Bill Gates is a billionaire but most of his software was bought from other people – he last wrote software in 1983. Moreover, there are free equivalents to all of the software I can think of that Microsoft sells. And yet, he is a billionaire. A philanthropist for sure, but this is not about the character of this particular billionaire. Moreover, we have the myth of the self-made “man”. In reality we all rely on each other for our existence and all ideas, including business ideas, are built on other people’s. Someone might have a good and fairly original idea, and it feels like they should get credit, perhaps financial, for that, but on the whole it isn’t the people who have the ideas who profit from them because they’re likely to be working somewhere their intellectual property is claimed by others, and those others may simply be those who inherited enough money to be more adventurous with their entrepreneurship.

Capitalism is basically cancer. When I was training to be a herbalist, I used the idea of capitalism as a mnemonic for the characteristics of tumours. Tumour growth is unregulated, purposeless and not related to the needs of the body. So is capitalism. I would like there to be some kind of mystical link between capitalism and cancer, but sometimes the link is all too real, for instance the exposure of factory workers to industrial chemicals or asbestos. But it hardly needs saying that capitalism has the same effect on the human race and the biosphere as cancer has on the body. It kills you. Capitalism literally kills people by starving them in the midst of plenty and freezing them to death while luxury properties lie empty and are even rendered inaccessible deliberately. It also kills people by poisoning them and so forth. And it’s poisoning the planet by its very nature. Well under 1% of ocean plastic pollution is from plastic straws. Most of it is from trawler nets, which are designed to kill sea life and will go on killing it even when they’re no longer used. Any difference consumers can make in terms of boycotting and trying to use sustainable products, while obligatory, is a drop in the ocean compared to what multinational corporations do. And it isn’t even their fault. They’re economically determined by the capitalist system to continue to function in that manner. They cannot help but be mass murderers and destructive to life as we know it on this planet.

Therefore it is an urgent necessity to overthrow capitalism if we’re to continue to exist. That is, unless those at the top do have a plan, and if they do it’s probably even more worrying as it’s likely to involve the death of billions more people and convincing the rest of us that it’s either a good idea or unavoidable. And maybe it is unavoidable. This is the problem.

I do indeed harp on about the necessity of achieving utopia, and let’s face it, it’s quite a limited utopia because it’s only about people having their basic needs satisfied universally and unconditionally, but there’s one point I can’t emphasise too strongly. The issue is not that I’m utopian but that if this isn’t done, we will all die, and it’s personal because that “we” includes our descendants. Family members. And maybe it is impossible, but if it is, we’re confronted with the certainty that we will all die horribly, or people we care about will. Some of us have already done so. The pandemic is caused by capitalism, and before you say China is a communist country, it has a stock market and millionaires, so it isn’t. It is literally impossible, by definition, for a capitalist society to have a stock market because that just is commodification. This could of course mean that communist societies degenerate into capitalist ones, but a common view is that both the Soviet Union and the People’s Republic of China evolved from primarily agrarian rather than industrial societies. In any case, global capitalism is responsible for the emergence of pandemics in the form of both Covid-19 and HIV, because deforestation and the consequent mixture of wildlife viral reservoirs leads to the evolution of new pathogens, and that takes place due to the various pressures placed on the environment such as the growth of cash crops and the rearing of cattle.

One of the notable things about the discussion of capitalism is that it’s often referred to as “late capitalism” nowadays, which seems to imply that it will be replaced by a different system. Whereas it doesn’t follow that this will happen, it’s true that it’s unsustainable. This will result in something like the extinction of humankind if it doesn’t end, but of course that extinction is practically the same as the end of capitalism. Once again I feel the need to remind you that the Doomsday Argument appears to show that the last human birth will occur early in the 22nd century CE, although the argument has its flaws and doesn’t predict what will cause this even if it’s valid. If it doesn’t happen, good, but if it does, capitalism failing to be replaced is a probable cause, and there is some evidence that this won’t happen, and therefore that this will be the cause of our extinction.

Hence it is indeed entirely feasible that even a limited utopia sufficient to preserve the continued existence of the human species is impossible to achieve from the current state of affairs, or perhaps it’s better to state that it cannot arise from it at any point because it may not be down to human agency. But let’s not shrink from what this means. It means that we’re about to become extinct. Nothing is being done to prevent this because the system is fundamentally incapable of doing so. It’s based, for example, on economic growth and the rapid replacement of products, the inefficient production of necessities and the manufacture of artificial scarcity. The world economy produces enough for everyone and yet people still starve and die in other ways of neglect of existing goods and services which are unavailable to them because of the way money is made to work under capitalism. Not that money necessarily works as a system anyway, but it existed before capitalism so it could possibly have been less dysfunctional in the past, for instance before usury.

One thing I’m not sure about is whether “they” have a plan. It’s undoubtedly inevitable that if capitalism continues it will murder most of the world’s human population as well as continuing the current mass extinction, but it isn’t clear if there are any ideas about how to save the elite. It may simply be that they believe their own propaganda and think there will be some kind of solution, or even that there is no problem. I find that plausible because of the extent of climate change denial that exists, which seems to be genuinely held to be so. There’s also the issue of the complexity of the problem. We’re not just talking about pandemics, but also climate change and its associated disasters and the number of products which rich people also encounter which are too dangerous to be fit for purpose. If you’re a rich CEO being driven down Wall Street and a vehicle’s brakes fail because of the manufacturer skimping on standards and it crashes into your limousine and kills you, you’ve become a victim of capitalism, just as you would if no antibiotics are available to treat a superbug you picked up because of the non-profitability of developing new antibiotics or using phage therapy. You’re still going to be dead either way, and the number of increasing threats is legion. But as I say, maybe they do have their own answer, but it won’t matter to 99% of the world’s population because we’re all still going to die because they’ve destroyed the environment for profit.

This, then, is what I’m trying to drive home. It is absolutely feasible that this limited “utopia” cannot be achieved, and I realise I’m repeating myself at this point but I can’t emphasise this strongly enough. If that is the case, we’re all going to suffer horribly and die, and not just abstract people out there living thousands of miles away but us, our friends, neighbours, relatives and the people we care about who are close to us. So you’d better make damn’ sure utopia is practical and do everything you can to achieve it because otherwise you can kiss goodbye to your great-grandchildren not suffering agonisingly tragic deaths, which could’ve been prevented. And I’m not even blaming you because it’s the system, not the people.

Sorry, this has been a bit of a rant. And yes, extinction may be the plan, but it’s more likely to be the expectation and it won’t be the rich who will die out, at least at first, but even they’re vulnerable.