In this text, Tim Jackson outlines the philosophical and practical implications of leaving our current growth-addicted system, discussing the ethical yet concrete dilemmas and questions that one needs to deal with when thinking about what he calls a ‘Post-growth’ society.
In chapter 3, he clarifies how the growth imperative of our current economic system is inherent to capitalism itself, both as paradigm for economics but also as a culture. By putting profit as the primary motivation for people to invest, capitalism implies a “behavioural assumption” about the idea that the only way to get people to work, and produce, is by making them expect financial reward. This, in turn, creates a sharp class divide between those who earn their living from wages, and those who earn income from profit. Drawing on Streek, he diagnoses capitalism to have now answers for its own failings: “it finds itself powerless, at the mercy of circumstance, when the lives of millions are at stake”. While Jackson recognizes capitalism’s function as a cultural myth aimed at providing a sense of continuity and certainty in our lives, he calls for a new, better story for the future, instead of one that “undermine our sense of meaning and threatens our collective well-being”.
A new story about human nature, Jackson tells us, needs to have a more mature understanding of our limits. Capitalism implies behavioural and natural assumptions that place limits oddly, like an immature man who thinks he can conquer the world. The myth of endless and decoupled growth is nothing but a denial of limits: “It is the failure to delineate properly between what is limited and what is not that lies at the heart of capitalism’s woes”. This denial of limits is perfectly incarnated by the recent surge in ‘green growth’ and sustainable growth policies, which reject the same notion of limit for the sake of the dystopian promise of technologically-fuelled endless expansion.
At this point, Jackson touches an interesting nuance. What does it mean to say that capitalism misunderstands the meaning of the notion of ‘limit’? As already mentioned, what is unsustainable is thinking that human beings have materially limitless opportunities for growth and betterment. Yet, recognizing this faulty line of reasoning within capitalist ideology does not mean to cancel the possibility of the concept of the ‘limitless’. What can be sustainably and ethically limitless, then? Jackson draws here on a long tradition of thinkers who encourage humans to reach their full potential as finite human beings (- I would add Marx to this list, quite literally): a desire to be creative and transcend our own physical limitations is precious, and “served us well through numerous stages of human evolution”. Thus, he quotes Rousseau’s “The world of reality has its bounds. The world of imagination is boundless”. Whereas Rousseau addresses the dilemma given by a reality that does not match expectations with fear (let’s limit expectations), Jackson calls for adaptation as a possible response, a concept which will be crucial for any post-growth philosophy. We can adapt and recognize that, whereas the world is materially limited, “applying our limitless ingenuity and boundless imagination in adapting to the real world is the foundation for an endlessly creative endeavour. “Limits are the gateway to the limitless”, he says, echoing Wendell Berry’s words: “Human and earthly limits, properly understood […] are not confinements, but rather inducements to fullness of relationship and meaning.”
This philosophy of limits then leads to a new conception of prosperity. He starts chapter 4 with an interesting review of the literature regarding happiness, prosperity and well-being. He starts by analyzing the theory of happiness that underlies our economic system. Utilitarian economics were born with Bentham and Mill as a “bold” move challenging the unjust dictatorial moral authority of the church: instead of concepts like ‘natural order’ and ‘natural law’, Bentham argued that a state would be in power in order to pursue ‘the greatest happiness for the greatest number of people’. Mill understood this attempt at democratizing ethics and morality (should we do that again?), and started to work on a new theory of happiness, in which utility equals happiness. With an odd leap of arguments, utility came then to be understood as worth, value, and finally money. Money, then, becomes a proxy for happiness, which guides the work of our governments. Here, credits to the author for empathizing so humanely with J.S.M. as a person rather than a rationalist economist. He follows the history of his ideas along with the changes in his life. Trapped in feelings of melancholia that will accompany him until the end of his days, Mills confesses in his diary that “those only are happy who have their minds fixed on some other object than their own happiness; on the happiness of others, on the improvement of mankind, followed not as a means, but as itself an ideal end. Aiming thus at something else, they find happiness by the way.” The author deconstructs this “contorted apologia” of the failings of Mill’s happiness calculus as a way for the philosopher to convince himself of the validity of the utilitarian project. This is then shown by another passage of his autobiography when, after the publication of his treatise, he still confesses to be deeply unhappy, and analyses this to be a consequence of a loveless childhood. “In our schemes for improving human affairs, we overlooked human beings”. Jackson affirms that these passages are hints to failings of Mill’s utilitarian idea of happiness as a simple, one-dimensional economic goal which can be accurately calculated. “Neither the pursuit of happiness nor the pursuit of money offers us a reliable guide to what we might call the ‘good life’”. At the end of his life, inspired by Wordsworth poems, Mill will realize that true soothing and healing comes from empathy, transcendence, poetry and love. As monotheisms tell us, love is infinite and boundless.
Jackson offers than a multi-dimensional conception of prosperity based on a philosophy of limits. Drawing on Amartya Sen, he argues that prosperity depends on the ‘capabilities’ that people in society need to flourish or to function well, social progress being the continual betterment of such capabilities. Aristotle coined the word wellbeing (eudaimonia), which is in tune with such definition of prosperity: “activity of the soul in accordance with virtue”. Virtue (arete) here is conceived as ‘functioning well’, excelling at being human within your capabilities, ‘being good at being good’. Aristotle’s virtue is deeply embedded in a philosophy of limits too. Each virtue is flanked by two vices, that we could see as extremes, being scarcity and extremes. In order to have a ‘good life’ (be happy), humans need to flourish their capabilities without going beyond their limits. This, Jackson contends, is in stark contrast with utilitarian economics, which led to equalling GDP with happiness: too little money and material means means scarcity, too much means excess. Prosperity, in other words, is health: a healthy equilibrium of human vices centred at flourishing our capabilities to the fullest. Here, the connection with Hannah Arendt is quite interesting, as she theorizes that the only chance for contentment that humans have is “the prescribed cycle of painful exhaustion and pleasurable regeneration”.
But what does prosperity “in terms of health” mean, in practice? He proposes a framework that places 5 dimensons of well-being that are all interrelated, co-dependent and necessary: living a healthy life means to have spiritual, sexual, social, physiological and psychological equilibrium – in different ways for everyone. This model is deeply anti-capitalist, as it posits that “virtue lies in achieving an appropriate balance within and between each of these dimensions – effectively ruling out the possibility that the good life can be achieved in any meaningful way through a continual accumulation of material or financial wealth”. He brings forward many psychological, medical and anthropological sources to back this model. The ones that I found most compelling was the pioneering research about addiction carried out by Alexander Bruh in the 70s, concluding that “The opposite to addiction is not sobriety … the opposite to addiction is connection”.
Here, another beautiful connection: entropy. Jackson digs deeper into what it mean for human to live well and achieve excellent functioning. In physiological terms, health is a balancing act, a “dance played out between our diet, our physiology and our choices in life” – our ability to create and maintain order: “replenish cells, prevent decay, achieve optimal balance”. Order is reached at a cost, as disorder always tends to increase. And here comes entropy, with the second law of thermodynamics: the energy you use to create order becomes less and less available in the process of making order. Entropy (disorder, chaose) always tends to increase. In the light of this, then, life is a game in which “1. You can never win 2. You can’t even break even. 3. You can never leave the game”. Whereas I think I understood how the law of entropy justifies the idea that a post-growth future needs to enact a balancing act that capitalism has been unable to do, I have problems with understanding the connection between entropy and love. Even if the connection is a fascinating one. If the science tells us that entropy always tends to increase, and the most likely state of the world is chaos, Jackson argues that “out of this chaos can emerge the most unlikely, the most extraordinary and the most profoundly beautiful kinds of order. The complexity of the human species. The subtle balance on which our health depends. Our enormous potential for creativity. And our propensity to encounter the most intense and the most beautiful of human emotions.”
In chapter 6, Tim Jackson shows how capitalism goes against this law of balance by building on an endless stimulation of desire, and drawing of the insatiability of human desire, arguing that “economic structure on the one hand and human psyche on the other bind us into an iron cage of consumerism”. Another cultural tenet of capitalism is the idea that competition is the best response to scarcity, which is confuted by recent research (and ancestral knowledge) about the interrelatedness and interdependency that characterizes human life (along with competition). The balancing act that needs to be done, then, is between these complementary human values: Shalom Shwartz highlights two distinct tensions in human psyche: between self and other, and novelty and tradition. Capitalism exploits the upper-right corner of this 4-sided spectrum, building on our natural longing for novelty and self, which evolved adaptively in human history, to solve problems of scarcity, to create conditions amenable to life and to develop social systems that could respond quickly to fast-changing conditions. By choosing this corner, we are accepting a society that is structurally based on violence, stress and addiction.
Then, how to achieve balance? Jackson proposes the concept of “flow”, the sort of mode of consciousness (connection with psychedelic, holotropic mode of consciousness?) that allows a sense of wonder, “a connectedness to the world, a feeling of satisfaction that goes beyond happiness or the gratification of pleasure”. This is not the popular ‘stay calm, go with the flow”, but rather “a perfect balance between being highly focused and being totally relaxed in the moment”. Flow is one of the ‘dividens’, of the boundless possibilities, that remain available in a post-capitalist society. How does this connect to work, especially to work in a post-growth society?
Back to Hannah Arendt!! In The Human Condition she examines the differences between vita activa and vita contemplativa, trying to assess how to accept human vices while trying to strike a balance between them. Drawing on Arendt’s work, Jackson argues that work needs to be back at the centre of human society, even in a post-growth world. This is interesting, given the discussion about post-capitalism being a post-work scenario (see Fully Automated Luxury Communism, but also the last chapters of Bullshit Jobs). In order to argue for this, he explains Arendt’s distinction between labour and work. Labour is a “design characteristic of the human species”, which is valuable both to the individual and to the survival of society – the activity which corresponds to the biological process of human existence: growth, metabolism and eventual decay. Labour can be paid (what we normally refer to as work) or unpaid (housework, caring for the elderly, parenting, volunteering). For Arendt, true happiness and contentment can only be found in the same raw act of labour, because “it is first and foremost an inevitable part of being alive. […] It is a state where the future is diminished to nothing, the past is irrelevant and only the present remains”. For Arendt, the uniquely human response to a word of entropy and chaos is to “try to construct a world of permanence, […] that is not entirely and incessantly subject to the unforgiving cycle of regeneration and decay. […] the world of human artifice”. Arendt defines then work as the “activity that allows us to build and maintain the durability of the human world”. Whereas labour is about care and sustenance, it is about staying alive with others, work is about “staving off our fears of death”. Through this act of world-building we then are able to experience flow, which we can enjoy as a kind of “triumph over the forces of entropy and decay”.
But then, I wondered, is our society not founded on work already? That’s all we talk about? Well, actually no, Jackson might say. Capitalism is addicted to a kind of work that enslaves people both as consumers and workers, it is a system which builds on either underpaid and exploited workers or people whose tasks are pointless. Drawing on Fritz Schumacher, he explains how capitalist ideology sees work as a mere obstacle to profit: “the ideal from the point of view of the employer is to have output without employees, and the ideal for the employee is to have income without employment”. This ideology structurally contradicts the task of world-building appreciated by Hannah Arendt, and inevitably gives way to precarity and exploitation on one hand, and bullshit jobs on the other. “Capitalism’s need to generate more and more consumption has eroded the distinction between biological maintenance (labour) and the creation of a durable human artifice (work)”. But, Arendt argues, Socialisms failed to address the issue of work holistically. Socialists, even in recent times, have often been blind to “how the endless replacing of people with machines undermines the social function of work.”
All in all, I found this book an interesting trip through all the complex ethical and philosophical (yet material and concrete) that one needs to think about when talking about post-capitalism.
---- As a china studies nerd, I saw compelling connections with Daoism, Confucianism and Buddhism throughout the whole book. I appreciate a lot chapter 8, where Tim Jackson connects the whole analysis of Aristotle Eudamoinia and Arete with his later conceptualization of prudential, meant as the practical wisdom of acting “in a way that is consistent with living well.” This connects with Laozi’s ‘clear vision’: in order to have a clear vision of the future, you need to have a strong ‘trunk and root’, a good balance in the now and here. So, when labour is exhausted and we need to take rest from its flow, the concept of prudentia can be a good one to deal with inevitability of dealing w