Thursday, March 15, 2012

Philosopher Michael Sandel on the Market and Morality

From "What Isn't for Sale" in the April 2012 Atlantic Monthly:

Michael Sandel is one of the 2 or 3 leading political philosophers in the world.   Here he talks about how the fall of communism and rise of capitalism has resulted in a market based system for valuing things.  Thus, everything is for sale.
The financial crisis did more than cast doubt on the ability of markets to allocate risk efficiently. It also prompted a widespread sense that markets have become detached from morals, and that we need to somehow reconnect the two. But it’s not obvious what this would mean, or how we should go about it.

Some say the moral failing at the heart of market triumphalism was greed, which led to irresponsible risk-taking. The solution, according to this view, is to rein in greed, insist on greater integrity and responsibility among bankers and Wall Street executives, and enact sensible regulations to prevent a similar crisis from happening again.

This is, at best, a partial diagnosis. While it is certainly true that greed played a role in the financial crisis, something bigger was and is at stake. The most fateful change that unfolded during the past three decades was not an increase in greed. It was the reach of markets, and of market values, into spheres of life traditionally governed by nonmarket norms. To contend with this condition, we need to do more than inveigh against greed; we need to have a public debate about where markets belong—and where they don’t.



Tuesday, March 6, 2012

No-Man's-Land of Aging

Today, I bought a newspaper from the paper guy in the subway (BART here in the SF Bay Area).   "How's it going?" I asked as I handed over my paper and a dollar.

"Can't complain.  My old bones still strong," he stated firmly.



"I hear ya!" I replied instinctively wanting to form some sort of fleeting community with this strong older man.  

"Yeah, we done seen it all and come out unscathed and unburdened," he offered. 

"Yessir, that's true," I confirmed. 

Then he gave me a quizzical look . . . like he wasn't sure about me somehow.  A moment passed and then he asked, quietly, "How old are you?"

And I suddenly felt like a 14-year-old trying to bluff my way into some sort of after-hours party. 

"56," I said.

"I'm 83," he replied as if to confirm membership in some community that I couldn't possibly think about joining.

I slunk away with my paper and realized that I'm too old to have street cred with anyone in their 40s or younger (because 40ers think they're still 30ers) and not old enough to have any cred with the truly old, i.e., those 60 and above.  I'm in a no-man's-land of aging.

Monday, March 5, 2012

The Problem with Irony

"When I share an irony, I imply that I was once blind.  When I'm ironic, I acknowledge that I was once blind, but I don't really see beyond my former blindness; I don't see a resting place in something authentic, in something true.  And if I don't see something true, if I don't get beyond an ironic stance, then my position of 'wisdom' will be regarded ironically later."

-- I wrote this down, God knows when, but I don't know if it's attributable to someone else or I made it up myself.  I like it though.