Pensieri di un lunatico minore

Temple of the boardroom

Over the past two centuries, a new religion has been developing in the United States, one that bares no resemblance to anything that has been seen in thousands of years. Rather than worshiping a new deity, these people worship the Dollar, placing it upon an alter, illuminated by the glaring light of greed. During the quiet development of this new religion, Dollaranity we will call it, its worshipers, best reffered to Dollarites, have taken over the public debate and reshaped even the concepts that people use to define morality.

Many people might wonder how I feel I can define what is generally called capitalism to be a religion. First, it is important to understand what capitalism really is. The dictionary defines capitalism as:

An economic system based on the private ownership of the means of production and distribution of goods, characterized by a free competitive market and motivation by profit.

One its surface this is not necessarily a religion, but an economic system, which is often opposed to others such as communal ownership, or communism. There is nothing wrong directly with private ownership of the means of distribution and production, nor with competitive markets, however, this is not the kind of system of religious worship that I am referring to.

The dictionary defines religion as:

1. People’s beliefs and opinions concerning the existence, nature, and worship of a deity or deities, and divine involvement in the universe and human life.
2. A particular institutionalized or personal system of beliefs and practices relating to the divine
3. A set of strongly-held beliefs, values, and attitudes that somebody lives by
4. An object, practice, cause, or activity that somebody is completely devoted to or obsessed by

Certainly one would not begin to argue that definition #1 would fit Dollaranity, however, if you presume that the Dollar is what is worshiped, then numbers 2-4 are certainly accurate. In fact, one could argue that there are new modes of piety and worship developed. People accumulate wealth as others might good deeds, believing that at the End of Days, there will be some Judgement, and they will be found deserving because of their money, while their actions to achieve that wealth will be forgiven.

Evidence of this creeping religion can be found all around you, in your day to day life, and probably in your own life, as the Dollar has replaced everything else as the center of ones life, and the way one measures personal value. No longer is ones worth attached to their family, their friends, the deeds they do, the good they perform and the lives they affect in some positive fashion. Now it is measured by gold, Mercedes, BMWs, Caddillacs, Picassos, private jets, 40,000 square foot homes. Today people aspire to homes that once would hold entire villages, filled with things whose sole purpose in life is to accumulate dust and impress friends. This is not to say that everyone who is wealthy is a follower of this 20th century religion, but you can see it everywhere, and it permeates even those who try to avoid it.

I first noticed the creeping nature of this new following when I moved from Austin, TX to Washington, DC in 1994. The first thing that I noticed about people in DC is they always wanted to know what you did for a living, before they really cared to know what your name was. To me, my job is just that—-something I do because I must pay bills, not because it defines who I am. Success in my life is not tied to the number of digits in my paycheck. For me, the definition of someone lies in things more deep than the little letters engraved on their business cards. To try and reduce someone to a title, or apply value to it is akin to defining someone on race, gender, sexual orientation or place of birth. What each of those things tell you is some small shred of the whole, and nothing that tells you whether they are a good person.

Returning to Austin a few years ago, during the height of the dot.com boom in the city of my birth, I noticed that this religion had set up gleaming temples of glass all along the beautiful creeks and valleys of the city I loved. No longer could your view cross the valley of roaming deer, across scraggy juniper trees to majestic oaks. Now it was interrupted by buildings emblazoned with words constructed to make no sense, but only to invoke importance. A declaration of Pride.

People started asking me what I was doing in DC, who did I know, had I ever “met so and so”, and did I know any politicians. None of these things, regardless of their answer, hold any clues to my inner self, only illuminating the shallow surface of skin, the game we all play as we act out our roles in this grand play. Quickly I realized that this disease was spreading across the landscape, and no longer could I contemplate returning home, as home no longer existed. The house was still there, some of the people, but the environment that had shaped me into who I am today no longer existed anywhere but the ethereal memories of someone long gone.

There was a time in my life where money, success and “dust collectors” defined what mattered to me. Having grown up in a wealthy neighborhood in Austin, surrounded by kids whose parents were lawyers, doctors, politicians, bankers, and who were showered with gifts, Porsches, fancy clothes, all the while my parents work until their divorce to maintain middle-class status gave me a sense of inadequacy that I fought for much of my life. In this environment it was difficult to find self-worth and definition that was not tied to your paycheck. Once I had left for college, and moved out on my own, I found that my true friends filtered out and I was left with people who valued me. and I began to understand where truth lie—-not in a bank statement but in the heart of another.

Today I see still people whose value in themselves is tied up in their job, their money, their car, and I wonder if they can ever find happiness. Happiness can not be bought, no matter how much being poor sucks. We find it only when we stop searching. I see today still people who should they find out more details than I share about my professional life become somehow intimidated, or express some feeling on inadequacy that is inexplicable in this day and age. Friends are measured on their value as friends, their honesty, trustworthiness and compassion, not on their ability to drive a $50,000 car.

When we look back and try to understand the past few months, with the continuing implosion of the financial markets, the massive corporate fraud and the avarice that is nearly Biblical in nature, we must begin to probe where this comes from. It comes not from a lack of oversight by the government—-though I support more effective checks and balances—-but instead from a culture of avarice that encourages people to be sloppy with ethics and morals in order to “get ahead” financially. Keeping up with the Lays, Ebbers, and Bushes. Fraud and reprehensible moral behavior have become systemic and nothing less than a complete purge of the system can hope to penetrate the cloud of confusion that surrounds everyone involved.

However, blame lie not just with those at the top, but everyone in the system. From shareholders who focus only on short-term gains, profit, and not the place the company serves in its communities, to the lawmaker who covets and pursues with reckless abandon the money to fuel their purchase of power. From the housewife who looks at her 401(k) every day, calculating their gains like some modern day Miser, to the middle manager who places as his deity the star CEO. Nothing happens in this world without society’s permission, and we must begin to revoke this permission to rape and pillage the lives of workers, the environment, and most importantly the faint echo of democracy that is left inside the institutions founded hundreds of years ago.

No longer can be survive as Dollarites, but must instead pursue a path guided by some moral certainty, whether wrapped in the name of Allah, Jehovah, God, or simple humanism. There is within each of these belief structures the commonality of brotherhood, social justice and guidance that must illuminate our future more brightly than a Gucci flashlight.