I is for Insecurity
Based on very little, but looking back over the past two hundred years, I seems to me we are becoming increasingly anxious. It’s as if we’re entering an Age of Insecurity, and as each decade passes the uncertain nature of our lives becomes more evident. I don’t mean to suggest there was a golden age before this one: life has always been a battle for subsistence, but in the past each family had some control over their fortunes, growing crops, managing livestock. It was marginal, landlords took their cut, and any kind of unanticipated change could make survival impossible. Storms, bushfires, blights, diseases, disaster was always around the corner. But you knew the risks, set aside whatever you could, and understood the cycle of the seasons.
Then came the Industrial Revolution, and we lost control. Inventions from the beginning of the 18th Century saw a series of new technologies, enabling large scale manufacturing and the dominance of major corporations. First, it was the spinning jenny, the cotton gin and the flying shuttle, taking weaving out of the home into factories. Next, the steam engine, taking a first and decisive step away from reliance on animal power, followed by electricity and the telegraph. I could continue on to the role of banking, steel, and so many other changes, but you know the story. In less than 100 years, countries like the UK had been transformed, home industries largely wiped out, and life in the city replaced the rural world for most of the population.
To focus on the technologies is to forget the human side of the changes. There are many examples, such as the ways in which new methods for processing wool and cotton together with the development of the automatic loom spelt disaster, not just for home weavers but for Britain’s colonies, as they became subservient suppliers of raw materials, pushing many parts of a far-flung empire towards poverty. Back home in England, rural subsistence became increasingly marginal, people flocked to work in factories, where conditions were appalling, employment risky and easily lost, and were left with no easy way to set aside some food or grain for a tough year. Today we use the term ‘Luddite’ with a cynical, disapproving edge: these were the fools that tried to stop changes, smashing looms and breaking into factories. Their methods were illegal, but their concerns were real and unanswered, the life that had existed before was being thrown aside as capitalists began to rule the world. We could have listened more carefully.
It was two hundred years earlier when Thomas Hobbes had described what he imagined life had been like before there was government, when people were living in a ‘state of nature’:
In such condition, there is no place for industry; because the fruit thereof is uncertain: and consequently no culture of the earth; no navigation, nor use of the commodities that may be imported by sea; no commodious building; no instruments of moving, and removing, such things as require much force; no knowledge of the face of the earth; no account of time; no arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear, and danger of violent death; and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short. [i]
Many living through the second half of the 19th Century must have felt they had slipped back to that state, living in a time of fear, their lives certainly poor and short.
19th Century capitalism was outrageously exploitative. It led Marx and others to imagine revolutions, capitalism overthrown by the working class. Many philosophers despaired about the human condition: Søren Kierkegaard wanted to restore some semblance of traditional beliefs, faith, commitment and passion. Friedrich Nietzsche saw the moral values of 19th-century Europe disintegrating into nihilism. To that end, he distinguished between what he called master and slave moralities, and claimed it was time man to turn from the meekness and humility of Europe’s slave-morality.[ii] Perhaps Kierkegaard should have the last word, writing about 19th-century Europe, “Each age has its own characteristic depravity. Ours is perhaps not pleasure or indulgence or sensuality, but rather a dissolute pantheistic contempt for the individual man.” [iii]
Capitalists might be greedy, but not entirely stupid. By the beginning of the 20th Century, employers realised that they needed a growing market for their goods and services, and so the workforce had to earn enough to go shopping. Uncertainty hadn’t gone away. The First World War led to conscription, and hundreds of thousands of front-line soldiers thrown into battle, to die in extraordinary numbers: over five million Allied soldiers died, with another 13 million wounded, and 4 million missing. Post war, the 1920’s saw a short decade of growth and success. The economies of many countries flourished, only to be brought to a sudden and dramatic end by the Great Depression, and latent insecurity broke free again. If we jump ahead to the 1950s, after another war and horrendous loss of lives, recovery led to two decades of growth and optimism before economies were slammed once more, this time by increasing corporate greed, just as OPEC suddenly increasing the cost of oil. Since then? Since then we have lived with cycles of boom and bust, as capitalism continues to feed greed, uncertainty and exploitation. [iv]
In the 21st Century, economic insecurity dominates most lives, and we have become accustomed to a world where jobs disappear, desirable and even basic goods are more expensive, and wages increase slowly. Many people can live only by working two or more jobs, often on minimum salaries, always at risk of being moved or fired. Others are self-employed, from gardeners to industrial designers, seeking contracts in an increasingly competitive environment. Some turn to drugs, the recent opioid crisis the latest in a sorry series of addictions.[v] Meanwhile the very rich isolate themselves from the rest of society, hiding millions away, so much so they will never spend most of their massive hoards, nor are they investing in new business ventures. Some have been converting former inter-continental missile launch sites into underground shelters against a forthcoming global apocalypse: I wonder for how long all that money could sustain them when cooped up for months or even years? Their behaviour makes me think of Scrooge McDuck.
Perhaps the economic environment is not so much insecure as unstable today. In the Trump years we have seen markets skitter all over the place as he continues to dabble haphazardly in international politics and trade agreements. Bad news from China or Boeing, say, can spook investors; good news and the market booms. However, more important is what underpins recent events. Despite record profits, and huge sums in reserves, few companies are investing in growing their businesses onshore (Amazon seems the only major exception). Profit taking is evident everywhere. An observer might conclude that many boards foresee trouble ahead, and so are taking their money out while they can. Even company board directors can feel insecure.
The Age of Insecurity is much more than economic insecurity, however. It is personal, too. At a time when you easily find yourself unemployed, challenged to establish a partnership with another person, or even no longer confident you ‘fit in’, self-doubt and indecision is common.
One way to manage insecurity is to map yourself on to another person, resting on that person’s confidence and place in the world. One indication of how important this had become was shown at the death of ‘Princess’ Diana back in 1997. At the time, the massive outpouring of grief was evident, through thousands of tributes at the gates of St James Palace to the millions who lined the streets as her funeral cortege made its way to Westminster Abbey. They saw the loss as personal, the ‘people’s princess’ was the embodiment of a fairy-tale possibility that sustained hopes and desires. ‘I could have been the nursery school assistant who was swept off her feet by Prince Charles. I could have become glamorous, rich and famous’. When her car crashed into a concrete pillar in the Pont de L’Alma tunnel in Paris, her image was frozen for ever; young, beautiful, shy (well, some of the time), and caring.
Adulation of the rich, young and famous has been a feature of society for as long as we have records. However, something has changed with the digital age, and now idols could be seen and admired by millions, every move and every word known almost instantly. Since Diana, pop singers, film stars and fashion models have provided a substitute identity for women and men. Their dramas become personal, as fans live and breathe every disaster and every triumph. Absurd though it may seem, Donald Trump is an horrific example of this, as fans at rallies copy his words and gestures. ‘He will make America great again, and he’ll make me great, too.’
Personal insecurity breeds identification with examples of success, living through another person and ignoring the reality of the everyday self. For people living on the edge, economically, socially or personally, following an idol keeps them from dwelling on their own circumstances, even if only briefly. As we know from addiction research, once the drug, the dream of becoming famous person, has taken hold, the desire for more exciting ‘highs’ takes over. You only have to watch a video of a Trump rally, and observe the audience. They are happy, delighted. He says what they would say, he has what they would have, no matter their lives are impossibly different, no matter their hero has done nothing for them other than offering an unachievable dream.
Electronic media both resolve and feed insecurity. You can look at the imagery on Facebook and Instagram. Many people post for the feedback, hoping for positive comments, likes, and, even better, an increased following. Better or more daring pictures, sexy or stupid, unclothed or standing on the edge of a cliff: whatever it will take to keep your ‘friends’ following you. More followers, and now new ways to deal with insecurity. You can endorse products, and be paid. You can be talked about on other peoples’ sites, by people even more famous than you.
If it were harmless (at least before it becomes financial), it would be fine. But many of those who post are also anxious and insecure, posting as a way to stay in touch. Now dependent on an online community, the fear of failure begins to grow. You can be flamed, receiving insults, personal abuse which may be made worse with comments in offensive language. Another risk is that you might be trolled: a friend, or even someone you don’t really know starts a quarrel or upsets people by posting on your Facebook page, or simply harasses you with comments. It doesn’t have to be as extreme as that: it might just be that a former friend ‘de-friends’ you.
Social insecurity extends beyond the digital media. Some people prefer to avoid parties, or even nights out for a meal, go ten-pin bowling or to go to the cinema. In a social setting, the self is on show. Perhaps there’ll be a comment about your dress sense. You might meet a former friend, who now ignores you, or makes it clear you are no longer part of their group. These are familiar risks, and the online world has simply amplified the ways in which these normal insecurities can be amplified or extended. You might find yourself surrounded by ‘mean girls’ without the resourcefulness of Cady Heron, excluded and impotent in a digital world.
The final level of insecurity is internal, often exacerbated by interactions with other people. Am I stupid, unable to pick up all those references on a television show, or unable to get through the first level in a computer challenge? You can create an avatar in a role-playing game quite unlike yourself, but if that person is always losing, it reinforces your view whatever you try is doomed. Insecurity is insidious, feasting on imperfections on the face in the mirror, critically examining clothes and shoes, disapproving of where you live, and even undermining the work you do. Like a cankerworm, your uncertainties and self-doubts eat on. No wonder Generation Z is stressed. [vi]
Personal insecurity feeds back into the economic machine. Organisations thrive on staff concerns, making them more willing to take direction, avoid initiative, and lack independence. The company asks for innovative ideas, and you offer a proposal: it’s slapped down, and you are told “that was tried years’ ago, it doesn’t work”. Better not do that again; safer to be a loyal foot-soldier, and toe the line (do soldiers toe the line?). The business talks about the introduction of new initiatives, and then the grapevine makes it clear this is about downsizing your area, while building up another. With a mortgage, a car loan, and mouths to feed, insecurity slips into fear.
Is this true in the US or Australia in 2020? Not for those at the top of an enterprise, surely, but then you read about another CEO getting sacked, and another top management team thrown out. Middle level managers? They also see changes coming, position being lost, automation sucking away jobs. In the Age of Insecurity, almost everyone has the residual fear that it could all collapse – tomorrow! Only those at the very top, the true capitalists, seem impervious to all this stuff. They are the people to admire: rich investors, beautiful actors and handsome models. Those are the people you can dream to join. You know it is just a dream: but dreams are free, and if a Princess Diana dies, she lives on, both for you, and in the media. Go to a rally, shout and scream for Donald Trump or make promises to lead a new life with Franklin Graham.
Living in the Age of Insecurity is a nasty business. For most people most of the time, life is hard, challenging, and even risky. From time to time, there’s escape, but most escapes are transient, reality never changes. Nor will it until governments return to caring for everyone in the community, ensuring greater equality, and supporting sustainable growth. Is that another illusion to keep us going in this uncomfortable world? I hope not. I’d like to believe we can still create a better, democratic and just society, even if the odds seem overwhelmingly against us in this time of pervasive insecurity. It requires our action, our vote for a candidate that cares for the community, our taking a step to reach out and engage with others, our determination to forget personal concerns and work for a better world. If we don’t, that better world will slip further and further out of reach, and all that’s left is to dream about the fantasy world of the rich and famous.
[i] The Leviathan, Chapter 13. See, for example, https://www.bartleby.com/34/5/13.html
[ii] On the Genealogy of Morality, 1887; US 1967, New York Vintage. Also Beyond Good and Evil, 1973, Penguin
[iii] Critique of Reason and Society, 1987, Pennsylvania State Univ. Press, page 39
[iv] This situation is nicely, if frighteningly, summarised in Elliott and Atkinson, The Age of Insecurity: Verso, 1998
[v] See the sad account of the Minford Ohio ‘Class of 2000’: Dan Levin, New York Times, Dec. 2, 2019
[vi] Generation Z is stressed, depressed and exam-obsessed, The Economist, 27 February 2019
