The Few, the Proud, the Soulless

The parade continues unabated – that is, the parade of CEOs and other members of the rich and powerful financial and business elite, who have found it convenient to appear, from time to time, before various Congressional committees and other bodies of inquiry to answer “tough questions” about their involvement in the recession and its associated enormities, and particularly about their unabashed transfer of wealth from the accounts and portfolios of ordinary people into their own already-bulging portfolios and bank accounts (both domestic and foreign). The scenes remind me of nothing so much as the Nuremberg Trials – except it's as if the Nazis had won. Clearly, any one of the titans of international finance pretending to grovel, and even at times express contrition, is smarter than all of the gathered committee members combined. Or to put it another way – if the share of intelligence, cleverness, and wile were reversed, they would be holding elective office and the politicians would be running corporations. This is why the proceedings are always so farcical – the executives, who are clearly superior in every way, right down to the steely eyes and lantern jaws, the perfect grooming and expensive suits, are expected to make an accounting and explain themselves to a bunch of moderately-intelligent but, by and large, chaotic and impulsive political hacks, with bad hair and rumpled clothing. And this is the price the “masters of space and time” (in Tom Wolfe's words) have to pay for the privilege of -- after the hearings are over with and they jet back to their headquarters -- resuming predatory business as usual. It makes for good theater, no doubt... and some memorable “Kodak moments” -- but what it does to change the power relationships in our economy is, basically, nothing. It has about as much meaning as Bill Clinton attending a prayer breakfast. And yet I suppose that the occasional humiliation – being “tried” by a jury of anything but their peers – is preferable, in a way, to their simply being allowed to run amok with perfect impunity. As I've said before, the day when the ruling elite can do anything they want and never be questioned about it will be a dark day indeed. And yet it must be at least as humiliating for the “Congresspersons”, who invariably voice their frustration and helplessness, and make all sorts of empty threats for the benefit of their constituents – things like, we're going to tax those bonuses at the rate of 99.9%, etc. Frankly, I don't think the government would find anything more worthwhile to do with the money than the rich and powerful do – like, does the government have better taste in architecture than they do? A one-day tour of Washington, DC will settle any doubts you may have on that score. And if you want a measure of the government's “taste” in culture in general, and in journalism, you have only to tune into NPR or the Corporation for Public Broadcasting -- or check out the latest grants from the National Endowment for the Arts. Ultimately, even the most creative, or decadent, billionaire will eventually run out of ideas (I mean, how many boring sweaters can Bill Gates wear, after all? And why can't he get a decent haircut?) and start giving most of it away – in some cases to at least semi-worthy causes. (I know my symphony tickets would cost a lot more if it weren't for the fat cats in the box seats.) And some of them don't even live that high off the hog – they are better at making money than spending it (unlike most of us, I fear). And their mastery is, after all, every bit as mortal as they are; one of these days all that wealth will fall into the hands of those less worthy (at least by their standards). But it isn't as if the games they play in Valhalla do not impact the ordinary lives of ordinary people, because they do... to an extreme degree in many cases. And is this our fault for having put such a large share of our lives and our modest fortunes into their hands? Well, yes it is – at least to some degree. But to “drop out” of the system would involve more of a sacrifice than most people are willing to make. As charming as the notion of a self-sustaining homestead in the Alaskan wilderness might be, or membership in a Minimite community (I borrow the term from Eric Brende, author of “Better Off: Flipping the Switch on Technology"), most of us would rather live locked into the social, economic, political, and infrastructure grid, even if it ultimately amounts to a glorified form of slavery. So as a result, we find ourselves firmly in the hands of the rich and powerful, who can “flip the switch” on _us_ – at least economically – any time they desire. So as usual, we pay a price for our fancied “security” -- which is another way of describing a world without any serious challenges. Ultimately, everybody wants to live in Sweden.

But another thing occurs to me. Remember the “jet-setters”? (Remember the Concorde, the plane they used to favor taking back and forth to the watering holes of Europe?) The term became more or less synonymous with the “idle rich” who had nothing to do but buy houses, clothes, yachts, jewelry, racehorses, etc., gamble outrageous sums in Monte Carlo, and while away their time in Alpine ski lodges. A glamorous life, no doubt – but it always had an air of restlessness, and of ultimate boredom, purposelessness, and futility. People whose highest value is to acquire “stuff” and amuse themselves paradoxically find that they enjoy that “stuff” and those amusements much less than those for whom it's not the highest value. And if their “stuff” shall lose its savor, whereof shall it be “restuffed”? Of course, if your goal is to always have more, then you'll never reach that goal, and I suppose that can be a source of motivation – as it clearly seems to be for so many of these people. Plus, there is the heady appeal of “the game”, and of competition to see who has the most power, controls the most resources (and lives), has the most toys. And some even have what they fancy to be a "social consciousness" -- you know, that thing that inspires them to support "family planning" programs in the third world.

I always remember the “McMansion” I used to drive past in Great Falls, Virginia. Now, given what this pile undoubtedly cost, they could have bought a few acres out in hunt country and retired to a low-key, unobtrusive, even elegant existence. (And there were some "old money" people who did just that.) But no – this place was right on the main road, on a prominent knoll... the architecture was a hodgepodge of Italianate (think “terraces”, like in “Last Year in Marienbad”) and “rich Arab”... and the driveway (which was about the size of a soccer field) was littered with limousines, SUVs, ATVs, motorcycles, speedboats on trailers, and any other type of vehicle you can imagine, the only common element being that it had to be big, shiny, expensive, and make a lot of noise. I always used to wonder, who _are_ these people, and what is their business so I can boycott it? Of course, in that area they could just as readily have been diplomats, and their wealth all derived from “foreign aid” (from the U.S., of course – which means from you and me).

And, perhaps they were happy with all that crap, who knows? Money does not necessarily create good taste – and there's the tragedy. But to counterbalance that you have to tip your hat to William Randolph Hearst, and other notables like George Vanderbilt. If that money had been distributed to “the people”, what would be their monument? More McMansions, I suspect – or those mini-Mount Vernons that dot the Virginia countryside. Want to see what “the people” do when they get a lot of money? Just check out the lives of lottery winners. It's not a pleasant sight. And I've always said that I'd rather be a poor person in a rich country than a rich person in a poor country – at least from the moral/ethical point of view.

But having said all that, I do wonder whether, in the still of the night, these powerful men – the most high-profile culprits in the current economic crisis – don't have moments of doubt. If all that they worked for – or stole for – all their lives can so quickly pass away... or if they can pass away, leaving it all behind... what does it add up to, after all? Do they protest too much when they contend that they're “entitled” to those $100 million bonuses? Now, I'm not wishing them ill, the way the supermarket tabloids take delight in the troubles of the famous and glamorous. On the contrary! I believe they're fully entitled to every honest dollar they've ever made. But as for the rest, well... I do wish that even one of them, one time, would show true contrition, not just by mouthing words in front of a microphone but in action. But this action would have to be of a very specific type – like the rich man in the Gospels, they would have to give back every bit of their ill-gotten gains, and – as much as possible – to the people from whom it had been gained. I'm still waiting for this to happen; just donating a few million to the opera, or art gallery, or symphony, won't cut it. What I'm looking for, I guess, is a change of heart – real repentance, in the literal sense. But when you're raised a certain way, with a certain set of values (to use the word in the broadest sense), what sort of catastrophe does it take to cast doubt on the whole enterprise? It's much easier, I guess, to just stay in the same running wheel. But when you look at them, they do not appear – by and large – to be happy people. (I always think of those "team owners" who get caught on camera during NFL games, with their trophy wives.) They are clearly driven... frantic... almost in a panic lest they miss an opportunity to make, or extort, another dollar. And then I have to contrast this with people I know who have a very modest income and who live very modestly – or who are downright poor, but nonetheless tranquil, bordering on saintly. Which has chosen the better part? Who is more content? Clearly not the one who is locked into striving. If the highest goal in life is to always have more, when is that ever satisfied? And if there is no possibility of satisfaction, doesn't that imply that there is something wrong with that goal? These people have more “results” to show than any hundred, or thousand, ordinary people... and yet they are, I daresay, less satisfied in many ways. There is never a point at which they can rest at day's end – a privilege that more traditional value systems hold on high. One of the most tranquil faces I've ever seen was that of an ancient Indian man in New Mexico. I imagine he lived in a one-room adobe hut with a dirt floor. But his lack of striving and anxiety would have done credit to an incarnation of the Buddha.

All I'm saying is, don't be too envious of these characters who parade in front of Congress, and wield their power over the world's economy. As Scripture says, the children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light. Be content with what you have, because you may, in fact, have more than they do.