Yancey Strickler, the author of this book, is also the co-founder of Kickstarter, and he unabashedly calls his book a manifesto for a new economy. As democratic socialism and a universal basic income are now being seriously discussed in the U.S., I figured his manifesto would be along the same lines, except with a bend toward supporting people’s creativity, which is definitely the kind of economy I’d like to live under. When I was traveling in Israel in the 90’s, I met a young man from the Netherlands who was trying to make it as a photographer – an artsy sort, not a photojournalist. Because the Netherlands is a socialist country, he had free health care and received cash benefits without stigma so he could devote himself to his art full-time. If something like that existed in the U.S., I’d quit my office job and work on my writing. And if I was lucky enough to publish a book and become rich from it, I’d be only too happy to share my success in the form of higher taxes. That would subsidize other future artists to come up with other wealth-creating products.
But here in the States, socialism, even democratic socialism, is demonized. Ayn Rand’s philosophy that selfishness is a virtue has held sway over many prominent government officials since the 1980’s, from Alan Greenspan to Paul Ryan. Strickler pins the blame specifically on a 1970 New York Times op-ed by economist Milton Friedman of the Chicago School. He wrote the then-radical view that a company’s primary responsibility is not to its customers or employees but to its shareholders, and that view took hold. It’s part of the reason so many jobs have been outsourced overseas. If maximizing profit is the only thing that matters, then cutting costs with cheaper labor is the “right” thing to do. That is how the profit motive became falsely equated with morality.
I can’t say whether Milton Friedman bears the main responsibility in the cultural shift from the idealistic 1960’s to the materialistic 1980’s, but as someone who came of age in the 80’s, I lived the transition. If I had to choose an anthem for that period, it would be Peter Gabriel’s “Big Time,” which was a hit in 1986, the year I graduated high school and entered college. It’s meant as a sarcastic song, but most of my peers didn’t seem to realize that. They just sang along to the disco beat and dreamed of making it to the Big Time. Idealists like me were ridiculed. So I found it fascinating that Strickler brought actual statistics that verified life as I remember it. He compared polls of college students in the 50’s through the 80’s. In 1967, students said the main factor in choosing their majors was “to find meaning,” but after Milton Friedman’s article, the goal of making money began rising on the list. In the 1980’s, it hit the top spot, and it’s been there ever since.
Strickler goes on to take down some of the fallacies that have gotten promoted in this age of maximizing capitalism, and many of them have bothered me for years. My personal pet peeve is that competition is good and always yields the best results. I hate that mentality. As another entrepreneurial thinker said: it’s turned business into the human equivalent of the Westminster Dog Show. People are playing to the judges, not truly pursuing creative ideas. The college admissions process is the same. Why does everyone have to “prove” they’re “the best” in order to earn something as basic as an education? It just turns teenagers and their parents a bunch of nervous wrecks. And as we saw recently, even the wealthiest will cheat their way to the top. So is competition really yielding the “best” results?
Another fallacy he takes on is the argument that if you tax the rich too much, they’ll lose their motivation to work as hard as they do. I’ve heard that one every time I’ve argued in favor of Scandinavian-style socialism. But as Strickler correctly states, the rich aren’t working just for money. They’re the lucky ones whose work is about meaning and fulfillment. The current tech giants have more money than they can ever spend. It’s not about wealth anymore for them. It’s probably not even about taking care of their kids and grandkids. It’s about the achievement of creative and entrepreneurial goals.
To this point, Stickler references Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. The bottom two are about the basics of life: food, shelter, health, and physical safety. If you don’t have those, you won’t be happy. Once you do have them, you can work toward completing the third level: love and belonging. And once you have friends and family who love and accept you, you can pursue the top two levels, which are all about the achievement of loftier goals, be they creative or spiritual. Strickler argues that the trouble about our world today is that we’ve been overfocused on the bottom needs instead of aiming higher. A society that would provide people’s basic needs so they could pursue their creative ventures would make many people happier and might even create more wealth in the form of scientific, artistic, and entrepreneurial breakthroughs.
The fallacy Strickler takes on for the second half of the book is that pursuing self-interest always results in the best outcomes for everyone overall. He argues that self-interest isn’t even what dominates most people’s decision-making. People think about “we” much more than just “I,” and he doesn’t just mean obvious “we’s” like family members. Remember the Chilean miners who were trapped in 2010? They didn’t survive because everyone acted in rational self-interest. They survived because they were committed to sharing what they had and getting out of danger together.
Now, you may be wondering: if I agree with so much of what this book has to say, why not five stars? It was because of the tone. It’s just a little too much cheerleading for me. He sets one chapter in 2050 and describes an ideal workplace where people are experimenting, kind of like those stories people tell about Google now. It’s a beautiful picture, but a tad too rosy. Utopian thinkers may well point the way toward a better society, but they’re more persuasive when they stick with true stories, like that of the Chilean miners. Futuristic fiction isn't as persuasive. But I absolutely hope that Strickland is right. I hope this will be our future.