Reclaiming the Commons

Advertisements insidiously worm their way into our hearts and minds despite our best efforts to tune them out (which is why Tom and I don't watch TV anymore). They must be accomplishing something, or advertisers wouldn't shell out the big bucks for them, would they?

But isn't there some kind of saturation point? Aren't we getting to a place where people are just sick to death of always having stuff hawked and pushed at them? Does anyone else ever feel like you spend your whole goddamn life in a marketplace, with sellers screeching at you nonstop?

This must be why younger people are known to be a more susceptible "market." (They're human beings—not a market!) They haven't yet reached their saturation point.


I just have to say shout this: I am not a consumer! I am a human being! I am not a market! I'm a person!

Capitalism is all well and good to a point, but could we put some boundaries around it so that not every goddamn thing in life is first and foremost a money-making opportunity? There are many arenas in life that are not appropriate for capitalist meddling. Prisons. Health care. Education. Military. This shouldn't be so very hard to grasp, but the folks currently holding the reins—that would be the corporate 1%—don't have the first clue.

How can we have a prison system that makes more money when there are more prisoners? The system has a vested interest in putting more people in jail. How can that possibly work in the cause of justice?

How can we have a health care system that makes more money when people are sick? Or that turns away those who are sick because they are unprofitable? The system has a vested interest in people being ill and needing more "care," provided they have the means to pay for it. How can that possibly work in the cause of health?

How can we have an education system that makes money off of our children's future? The system has a vested interest in enrolling as many children as possible and churning out cookie-cutter automatons ready to be fed into the corporate profit machine. How can that possibly work in the cause of education?

How can we have a military system that makes more money when we are at war? The system has a vested interest in devastating parts of the planet where other profit makers plan to establish more "profit centers." How can that possibly work in the cause of peace?

The same can be said of journalism. How can we have "news" sources whose sole purpose is to make money? The system has a vested interest in not offending its corporate sponsors. How can that possibly work in the cause of truth?

And public transportation. Our poor beleaguered planet is begging us to figure out how to wean ourselves off of fossil fuels. Is this really so beyond us? Yes, doing so will cause some disruption for those whose livelihoods come from fossil fuels. But won't the solutions also provide livelihoods? And can we not assist those working in a harmful industry to transition to a less harmful one?

The fact is that we have allowed capitalism to run amok, to the point that it has metastasized. It has invaded area after area where it doesn't belong. It needs to be excised before it completely cuts off our vital organs and reduces us to a neofeudal machine in which the only acknowledged "good" is profit, that is, profit for the very few. Walmart wages and Walmart living for the rest of us. That would be hell on earth, and that is precisely where we're heading.

Is there anything wrong with ordering our common life for the common good, rather than for the profit of the very, very few? Could we not declare some areas of life off-limits to the profit makers? This is not a new or radical or alien idea. The ordering of the lives of all for the profit of a very few isn't a new idea either. It's been called many things: feudalism, plutocracy, fascism, to name a few. And we've seen how those have worked out—not well at all.

It's time to choose, time to get busy and root out the sanctified greed that is causing the rapid deterioration of our common life. Time for all of us to pitch in and push, not for what will benefit only you and yours (or more accurately, them and theirs, as in the 1%). Rather it's time we all worked for what will benefit the human family. It's time to roll up our collective sleeves, work together tirelessly and joyously to restore the common good. It's time to reclaim the commons.

# # #Many thanks to Ricardo Levins Morales for the Reclaim the Commons poster.

The Roar of Our Engines

While the media and political hacks argued earlier this week about whether or not Chrysler's two-minute halftime Super Bowl ad starring Clint Eastwood was meant to be a veiled endorsement of President Obama, I was struck by an altogether different question: Is this really who we want to have telling us who we are?

Because so many people have seen the ad, because it is so effective and powerful, and because there's been so much chatter about it, it's worth examining it more closely. What stories does the ad evoke? What does it say about who we are? Is this really who we are? Is it who we want to be? Is this how we see ourselves? Or is it just how the Chrysler corporation wants us to see ourselves?

Many favorable responses to the ad have streamed by in my Facebook newsfeed. It has generated lots of enthusiasm. In a tweet on Sunday night, Michael Moore referred to it as a "sermon":

And Clint, the consensus is u done a good thing standing up 4 Detroit--& your sermon seemed 2 b a call 2 give O his "second half." #sellcars

The story the ad tells is one we like, one we've heard often, one we want to believe. It is optimistic in a bootstrappy kind of way. It appeals to our sense of national pride. That it's Clint Eastwood who delivers the message is in fact an important part of the message. Mr. Eastwood conjures visions of everything from Rowdy Yates in Rawhide (if you're old enough) to Dirty Harry (even if you're not old enough) to Walt Get-Off-My-Lawn Kowalski in Gran Torino (2008). He's tough. He's manly. He's in charge. If he's on your team, you feel safe, protected, secure. If he's on the other team, you're screwed.

While Eastwood is saying "we all rallied around what was right and acted as one," we see a series of black-and-white still shots of families and then we move on to color shots of families in—surprise!—cars and trucks. When he says "because that's what we do," we're watching a dad drop his son off at school. Because, you know, it would have been so much less cool for the kid to walk or take the bus. As Eastwood is saying "we find a way through tough times, and if we can't find a way, then we'll make one," all the images are of people either in vehicles or loading them. By now the viewers are eating this stuff up with a spoon. We're tough! We're determined! We can do it! Ruh!

As Eastwood asks "how do we win?" we return to footage of Dirty Harry Mr. Eastwood. We see a close-up of him as he says, "This country can’t be knocked out with one punch [mouth almost closed, teeth clenched, exuding defiance, determination, grit]. We get right back up again, and when we do, the world's going to hear the roar of our engines."

The roar of our engines. This is what the entire ad has been leading up to. We are America. Hear our engines roar. We are car people. People of the road. We have a collective love affair with the automobile. That this has been true ever since Henry Ford rolled the first Model T off the assembly line makes this a story that is readily invoked. It's one we all know deep down and by heart. We are all of us a part of this story.

Chrysler isn't just trying to sell you a car in this ad. It's reinforcing our identity as a nation of car lovers.


Perhaps, though, it is time for us to turn a corner, to go down a new road. Might we be so bold as to develop enthusiasm for other, better ways to get around? Could we call on our collective ingenuity to transform ourselves into a nation smitten with public transportation?

I lived for a brief time in Amsterdam, where you can go to a nearby train station—without ever checking a schedule—and be assured that in no more than fifteen minutes a train will be departing for any Dutch city you care to visit. And the return trip will be just as easy. It's fast, convenient, inexpensive, and even fun. I loved that. I miss that. I long for that.

Building more and better public transportation networks in and between our cities would create jobs and reduce congestion. They would be safer, less harmful to the environment, and more readily available to everyone. They would be a collective enterprise that would benefit not only those of us who need to get around but also those of us who breathe. Think of it. With a really good public transportation system, we'd need fewer auto repairs, have fewer car accidents, spend less on gasoline. Very likely even our insurance rates would go down.

Improving our public transportation could also mean a metaphorical transformation, a change in how we see ourselves. As people of the car, each of us moves around separate from everyone else. We are isolated and on our own. As a public transportation nation, we would get where we're going together. That would be a new story that would be a gift not only to ourselves but to our children and to the planet.