we're sorry for being sacrilegious

The recent news that the White House is "apologizing for the burning of Muslim holy books in a pile of garbage at a U.S. military base in Afghanistan" has some people up in arms because they think it makes us look weak to have our president apologize for soldiers burning copies of the Quran while Muslims routinely burn our flag.

My opinion, on the other hand, is that it's entirely understandable and appropriate for the current president to apologize for this incident, regardless of whether it was intentional (the military's current position is that they were unintentionally burned, and that they're investigating the matter in order to ensure something like this doesn't happen again). For one, article 11 of the 1796 Treaty of Tripoli stresses that the US has (or at least had) a tolerant and respectful attitude towards Muslim nations and Islam in general:

As the government of the United States of America is not in any sense founded on the Christian Religion,-as it has in itself no character of enmity against the laws, religion or tranquility of Musselmen,-and as the said States never have entered into any war or act of hostility against any Mehomitan nation, it is declared by the parties that no pretext arising from religious opinions shall ever produce an interruption of the harmony existing between the two countries.

The president is commander-in-chief of the military, and as such, he or she is ultimately responsible for the conduct of the US military. The desecration and/or destruction of a holy text by professional military personnel (as opposed to flag burning by random, irate individuals upset over foreign occupation) is not only disrespectful, it's a danger to our troops that are still there considering the fact that it was done in a predominately Muslim nation by an occupying force that's predominately Christian, which will undoubtedly increase the already high tension between the two groups. If the reverse were to happen here, with Bibles being burned by a predominately Muslim occupying force, I'm sure that Americans would be equally as outraged.

Instead of showing weakness, I think the official apology shows strength of character and sets a much-needed moral example (even if just superficially), and is the least the current administration should do. That's my two cents, at any rate.

solidarity for never?

Just read an interesting article in the Guardian: "All together now: Montaigne and the art of co-operation."

While I wholeheartedly agree with Richard Sennett's overall conclusion that, "As social animals we are capable of co-operating more deeply than the existing social order envisions," I question whether cooperation and solidarity are as mutually exclusive as he seems to imply.

On the one hand, I can certainly see how the desire for solidarity has the potential to invite command and manipulation from the top in that people are often willing to hand over authority to someone or something they feel can lead them out of bondage and into the proverbial promised land. As Eugene Debs so eloquently warned the working class about the inherent danger of this follow-the-leader mentality:

I am not a Labor Leader; I do not want you to follow me or anyone else; if you are looking for a Moses to lead you out of this capitalist wilderness, you will stay right where you are. I would not lead you into the promised land if I could, because if I led you in, someone else would lead you out. You must use your heads as well as your hands, and get yourself out of your present condition; as it is now the capitalists use your heads and your hands.

But on the other hand, it's difficult to ignore the role that class plays in social relations, especially when such a small percentage of the population possesses the vast majority of wealth and power in society. And if solidarity naturally leads to tyranny and so easily perverts cooperation, what alternative framework/tactic should the left utilize to radically change the existing social order in such a way as to make cooperation more prominent while at the same time making grievous socio-economic and political inequalities less so?

Where would the Occupy movement be, for example, without a modicum of solidarity in its 'us-against-them' form, without any anger aimed at Wall Street and the 1% of the population that essentially rules over the other 99%?

Here, Sennett offers no solutions beyond an appeal to Montaigne's "emblematic, enigmatic cat." In one sense, what he suggests sounds progressive and socially revolutionary; but behind it, I see an inadvertent argument for simply leaving money and power right where it is while simultaneously ridding the left of one of its primary tools in combating ruling-class hegemony: unity.

"love in vein"; happy valentine's day ♥

At first glance, a song that's essentially about shooting up heroin may not seem like the best thing to post on Valentine's Day. But if you think about it, it's actually quite fitting considering that what we call love may very well be the result of a complex array of chemical reactions in the brain; and morphine, the active ingredient in opiates such as heroin, has a chemical structure similar to that of endorphins, endogenous opioid peptides that are produced by the brain when one is in the throes of love, and which help to relieve pain and produce feelings of pleasure and well-being. Heroin, endorphins, it's all the same really.

attack of the big-box stores

News is that the Van Dyke Sports Center (a.k.a., The Butterfly), a local arcade, is going to be replaced by the big-box store Menards. My initial thought is, "Yay, yet another generic chain store in the suburbs—just what we need." My uneducated take/analysis on the phenomenon as a whole is as follows:

Capital naturally accumulates; and this, in turn, eventually leads to the centralization of corporate entities that become megalithic corporations (and even monopolies, in some cases) that grow to dominate the economic landscape.

The downside is that these entities, like most other large, capitalistic enterprises, require constant growth to survive, which means ever-expanding markets and, more importantly, consumers. The larger the enterprise, they more they need to expand to increase profits (and, of course, CEOs and shareholders want bigger profits, so expand they must).

They're so large, and have such huge supply chains (getting many items at bulk rates overseas), they can generally offer lower prices than smaller, locally-owned business selling similar products and services. Plus, the more of these stores in one area, the greater the competition between them, hence even lower prices. Moreover, they carry such a large selection that it's often more convenient for people to go to one of these big-box stores than two or three other, locally-owned ones, which, all together, eventually drives smaller competitors out of business. And worst of all, these kinds of businesses help to create sprawling, homogenized neighborhoods and communities.

The upside, however, is that they tend to provide a lot more jobs than smaller, locally-owned stores, which simply can't match their level of sales. Of course, these are more often than not low-wage jobs, and the companies actively discourage things like unionization, so the upside is minimal. Nevertheless, consumers want these kinds of stores, particularly since real wages have, on average, remained flat for almost 30 years and entry-level jobs are getting scarce.

Certainly we don't need another big-box home improvement store; but our consumerist society has grown to depend on them, and we've grown to love 'em and hate 'em all at the same time.

I truly wish there was a quick and easy solution to the problem, but I just don't see one, especially in such rough economic times. In this case, the Butterfly probably isn't doing as well as it once did considering that people have less and less disposable income to spend, and someone has the money to buy them out and build something else. And if smaller, locally owned businesses aren't getting enough local business because they'd rather go to a Menards than, say, Warren Pipe and Supply, what can be done?

At the very least, you'd have to find ways to encourage people to shop small and locally (and also possibly spend more), as well as find ways to discourage stores like this from opening in the first place, such as zoning restrictions, the institution of a tax on giant retailers, etc. The former is difficult to maintain, however; and the latter is unpopular because it'd mean more government 'interference' in the private sector (a huge buzzword these days).

The way I see it, this is essentially the legacy of the suburban consumerist lifestyle that has been championed and pursued by white, middle America for the past 40 years, and it's going to be an extremely difficult trend to reverse.

A return to urbanism may possibly be the eventual cultural reaction that reverses it, however, with cities' unique characters and businesses drawing in people who are tired of having a Menards, Home Depot, and Lowes within a 4 mile radius (which could be good for cities like Detroit in the long run if such a shift manages to take place and is able to be sustained over a number of years), with this attitude spreading out and reverberating back into the suburbs.

the road to class antagonism is paved with good intentions

Today, a friend of mine posted a link to the website of the New Seasons Market Workers' Voiced, a grassroots campaign dedicated to "promoting and improving conditions and workplace democracy at New Seasons Market." Their current campaign is "centered around the reinstatement of Ryan Gaughan, a long-term employee who was arbitarilly (sic) terminated due to his involvement in promoting a democratic voice within the company." One part of their statement in particular caught my attention:

While there are undeniably many positive things about being employed at NSM, the company is changing. Workers are finding themselves being “written up” for minor infractions, which can lead to terminations for long term employees. Wages continue to lag behind competitors such as Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s, and even at some of the cooperatively owned grocery stores. And now, when workers begin to come together and advocate for change collectively, the response is selective enforcement of rules clearly targeted at workers who dare to speak up for each other.

Unfortunately, examples like this are all too common and endemic to the system as it's currently structured. More importantly, they actively illustrate the logical consequences of what Marx termed the 'coercive laws of competition' that ultimately make things like progressive companies, co-ops, etc. difficult to create and almost impossible to maintain.

As good as employers' intentions may be at the start of their respective enterprises, they're eventually forced to seek greater profits while at the same time suppressing wages as much as possible, which is the only way they can survive in a field full of competitors compelled to do the same. Quite often, employers as individuals are found to be good people, many of whom give generously to charity, etc. Nevertheless, the logic of the system forces the hand of employers to exploit labour as much as they can; and at the same time, labour is coerced into the position of working for a wage and fighting for gains that employers quickly counter in an endless battle punctuated by regular economic crises (these days better known as the 'business cycle').

And it's not simply that these types of businesses are inherently less efficient, competitive, profitable, etc., but that the logic of the system is overtly hostile to their fundamentally pro-worker design. They can certainly be successful, especially in more supportive economic environments (e.g., the MONDRAGON Corporation); but they can never truly thrive on a mass scale when the deck is so overwhelming stacked against them—a point Rosa Luxemborg stresses in chapter seven of her famous 1900 pamphlet, Reform or Revolution:

Co-operatives – especially co-operatives in the field of production constitute a hybrid form in the midst of capitalism. They can be described as small units of socialised production within capitalist exchange.

But in capitalist economy exchanges dominate production. As a result of competition, the complete domination of the process of production by the interests of capital – that is, pitiless exploitation – becomes a condition for the survival of each enterprise. The domination of capital over the process of production expresses itself in the following ways. Labour is intensified. The work day is lengthened or shortened, according to the situation of the market. And, depending on the requirements of the market, labour is either employed or thrown back into the street. In other words, use is made of all methods that enable an enterprise to stand up against its competitors in the market. The workers forming a co-operative in the field of production are thus faced with the contradictory necessity of governing themselves with the utmost absolutism. They are obliged to take toward themselves the role of capitalist entrepreneur – a contradiction that accounts for the usual failure of production co-operatives which either become pure capitalist enterprises or, if the workers’ interests continue to predominate, end by dissolving.

Bernstein has himself taken note of these facts. But it is evident that he has not understood them. For, together with Mrs. Potter-Webb, he explains the failure of production co-operatives in England by their lack of “discipline.” But what is so superficially and flatly called here “discipline” is nothing else than the natural absolutist regime of capitalism, which it is plain, the workers cannot successfully use against themselves.

Producers’ co-operatives can survive within capitalist economy only if they manage to suppress, by means of some detour, the capitalist controlled contradictions between the mode of production and the mode of exchange. And they can accomplish this only by removing themselves artificially from the influence of the laws of free competition. And they can succeed in doing the last only when they assure themselves beforehand of a constant circle of consumers, that is, when they assure themselves of a constant market.

It is the consumers’ co-operative that can offer this service to its brother in the field of production. Here – and not in Oppenheimer’s distinction between co-operatives that produce and co-operatives that sell – is the secret sought by Bernstein: the explanation for the invariable failure of producers’ co-operatives functioning independently and their survival when they are backed by consumers’ organisations.

If it is true that the possibilities of existence of producers’ co-operatives within capitalism are bound up with the possibilities of existence of consumers’ co-operatives, then the scope of the former is limited, in the most favourable of cases, to the small local market and to the manufacture of articles serving immediate needs, especially food products. Consumers’ and therefore producers’ co-operatives, are excluded from the most important branches of capital production – the textile, mining, metallurgical and petroleum industries, machine construction, locomotive and ship-building. For this reason alone (forgetting for the moment their hybrid character), co-operatives in the field of production cannot be seriously considered as the instrument of a general social transformation. The establishment of producers’ co-operatives on a wide scale would suppose, first of all, the suppression of the world market, the breaking up of the present world economy into small local spheres of production and exchange. The highly developed, wide-spread capitalism of our time is expected to fall back to the merchant economy of the Middle Ages.

Within the framework of present society, producers’ co-operatives are limited to the role of simple annexes to consumers’ co-operatives. It appears, therefore, that the latter must be the beginning of the proposed social change. But this way the expected reform of society by means of co-operatives ceases to be an offensive against capitalist production. That is, it ceases to be an attack against the principal bases of capitalist economy. It becomes, instead, a struggle against commercial capital, especially small and middle-sized commercial capital. It becomes an attack made on the twigs of the capitalist tree.

Places like New Seasons Market are great in theory, but they're not immune to the driving forces of, and the logic behind, the global capitalist system of production and exchange they find themselves in. In order for more neighborhood-centric, worker-friendly, and/or worker-owned businesses to sprout and flourish, a more socialized economic 'field' needs to replace the current undemocratic one in which we presently plant our seeds of enterprise.

detroit, or there and back again (again)

(Something I wrote for my friend's site, intoDetroit.)

The current chapter of my life might as well be called "Detroit, or There and Back Again (Again)."

I was born and raised in Detroit. I lived downtown for the first thirteen years of my life, up until my family was forced to move when they closed down our apartment building. I went to Burton International (what's now the Corktown Cinema) from 1st to 8th grade, and probably would've attended Cass Tech if we hadn't moved to Warren, a neighboring suburb. But even after moving, I continued to hang out and work there before finally leaving Michigan in 2004.

I spent a few years in Santa Cruz, California, before settling down in Portland, Oregon. I loved almost everything about the West Coast, from the people and scenery, to the culture and atmosphere. I felt like I'd found myself out there, and things were going great until I got laid off just before Christmas at the end of 2010.

The first eight months of 2011 were spent looking for another job to no avail, and I finally decided to visit my friends and family back in Michigan while I had the extra time. Depressed about the way things were going, I thought some time away would be good for me. I was planning on only staying for about a month, but ended up staying for four, having some incredible and life-changing experiences along the way. I went back to Portland briefly, only to find myself back in Michigan less than two months later.

So here I am, again, watching the city I grew up in struggling to stave off bankruptcy and the appointment of an emergency financial manager in the middle of a spirited yet fragile renaissance; watching the local Occupy movement evolve, grow, and do things like help save local businesses and people's homes; and watching some of my closest friends try to be a part of Detroit's revival, building a home for themselves, as well as a new centre for their community of friends.

In some ways, my time in, as well as away from, Detroit has given me a unique perspective on all of this — a somewhat detached vantage point from which to look upon these events and compare them to the city of my youth — and to be honest, I like what I'm seeing. Despite all of Detroit's problems and challenges (and there's certainly no shortage of those), I see green shoots of hope and progress everywhere.

In the local Occupy movement, for example, I see a whole new generation of activists getting involved in their community, revitalizing Detroit's revolutionary spirit and returning to more community-based activism and organizations directed towards fighting things like economic injustice and poverty. I see new businesses springing up, like the new Element Electronics TV factory, which will be the only TV company assembling TVs in the US. And more importantly, I see people who are truly passionate about making Detroit a great city again.

I'll be honest, I was happy to get out of Michigan and away from Detroit, from the desolation, animosity, and oppressiveness that for me characterized the city I once called home. I felt freer and more alive that I had in years, and couldn't wait to get back to my new home on the West Coast whenever my yearly two week visits were up. But this time it's different. This time, I find myself thoroughly enjoying my extended visits here. I'm not only reconnecting with old friends and making new ones, I'm being inspired to get involved in ways that I never expected, from my participation with Occupy Detroit in my previous visit, to helping renovate a house that was built in 1899 this time around.

Being here, now, I can feel the difference. The change in the atmosphere is palpable. Even more surprising to me, however, is that I feel like I'm part of the community again, and that it's a community worth being a part of—something I haven't felt for a long, long time. The Rose City may be my home now, but the Motor City will always be my home away from home.