trpf and crises

I've been reading a little about Marx's theory of the tendency of the rate of profit to fall lately; and while I think I get the gist of it, I'm still not sure I entirely understand the specifics. That said, one of the more intriguing aspects of TRPF to me is the role that crises play in acting as what Marx calls a 'counteracting factor.' Assuming that the theory of the tendency of the rate of profit to fall is true — as Smith, Ricardo, Marx, et al. believed was an empirical phenomena — giving rise to crises, crises in turn destroy superfluous (i.e., unproductive) capital and labour, creating unemployment and a reserve army of labour, which both drives down wages and decreases the labour force, allowing capital to increase profits even if the tendency of the rate of profit falls in the long term.

Perhaps this is one of the things that make capitalism appear like a perpetual growth/profit-making machine, as well as more stable than it truly is. This seems to be somewhat similar to Chris Harman's take on the TRPF, i.e., that crises are the prime counteracting factors mentioned by Marx, with recoveries being limited in effectiveness over time due to a combination of things like units of capital become larger and more interlinked (the bigger they are, the harder they fall) and increases in the level of unproductive labour in both the private and public sector (the former due to capital attempting to defend and expand markets in unproductive ways, waves of speculative investments, top-heavy corporate hierarchies, etc.; the latter due to government spending via the military, stimulus measures, etc.).

The real limit to crises as a counteracting factor, however, may be labour itself, specifically labour time, which capital tries to increase in order to extract more profit (surplus value) from the labourer in order to compensate for a falling rate of profit and the fact that much of this labour is itself superfluous, i.e., labor time that "consists in the production of values that do not reenter the capitalist reproduction process" (Jehu). But a person can only work so much, and if the labour itself is 'unproductive,' increasing it only serves to lower the rate of profit in the long term. This, in turn, creates the conditions for future (and potentially more severe) crises. One possible solution on the road to a post-capitalist society, then, may actually be an overall reduction in hours of labour:

The distribution of the mass of profit produced by productively employed capitals is, in part, settled by competition between the class of owners of capital. Under conditions of a general and comprehensive reduction of hours of labor, productively employed capital can increase their profits by reducing the expenditure of labor in unproductive forms, such as the state sector. While the state is incapable of increasing itself, by increasing its unproductive consumption of the surplus value produce by productively employed capital, i.e., by raising taxes or borrowing.

In the first place, a general and comprehensive reduction of hours of work — e.g., from 40 to 24 hours — must result in a reduction first of the state sector. In the second place, it must result in massive shift of the employment of labor from unproductive capitals (e.g., finance) to productive capitals. The losers in such a reduction would be first the state, second those capitals producing for the state (defense contractors) and financing it (Wall St.). By contrast, the productive employment of capital becomes more profitable, although the actual quantity of surplus value produced is smaller. Although less actual surplus value is produced, less also has to be shared with a mass of unproductive capitals and the bloated state.

This must increase demand for the productive employment of labor power, along with an increase in the wages. The rise in wages would in turn force productively employed capitals to further rationalize expenditures of labor through methods that improve the productivity of labor. Although employment is rising, along with wages, the actual improvement of the productivity of labor compels the further reduction of hours. In this way, there is both a rapid increase in the material living standards of the mass of society and more disposable time.

Reducing hours of labor not only means free disposable time for the mass of society, it pays for itself by compelling capital to revolutionize the labor process and increase the efficient employment of existing labor power. In Capital somewhere, Marx argues the capitalist class is, historically speaking, only the stewards of the total capital, who used their position to the disadvantage of the mass of society. This might not have been obvious in his day, but with the professional class of managers who have since arisen and now shuttle between Washington and Wall Street, and the resulting division of ownership from effective control of capital, it is clear this is all that class ever was. Paris Hilton’s family has long since retired to the vocation of coupon-clipping, while her functions have been assumed by these parasites.

Pretty interesting stuff. Definitely a lot of food for thought.

happy easter

I went to St. George Antiochian Orthodox Christian Church this morning with an Orthodox friend of mine, which was an interesting experience. Although Orthodox Easter (based on the Julian calendar vs. the Gregorian calendar) isn't until May 5th this year, it was a nice to way to spend the day, especially since today's the feast day of Gregory Palamas, whose approach to prayer was more contemplative and reminds me, at least superficially, of Buddhist meditation, and whose story first led me years ago to become interested in aspects of Orthodox Christianity, seeing in it an extension of the ancient Greek mystery religions mixed with a bit of Eastern mysticism.

The church itself is beautiful, in many ways simpler and more intimate than others I've visited, emitting a friendly and welcoming atmosphere, yet still fully capable of giving rise to feelings of reverence and solemnity. I really like Eastern Orthodox churches, not only because of their beautiful iconography, but because of some of the symbolism underlying them as well. Some of them (like the one depicting Jesus' descent into Hades, for example) are quite philosophically complex, and I find them intriguing to contemplate, not unlike Christian koans in a way. The concept of theosis is also appealing to me, i.e., the idea of trying to emulate the life of Jesus, and genuinely putting into practice his teachings on forgiveness, generosity, renunciation, and unconditional love in order to become more god-like, to become one with the best aspects of our humanity and share a deep sense of communion with one another.

Of course, there are certainly many Christian ideals and theological aspects that I don't like and will probably never agree with; but I respect Christianity and the Christian community for what it is or potentially could be to people. It's a guiding light in times of darkness, and a source of comfort and a place of refuge in difficult ones. It's a journey towards wholeness for those who feel incomplete. It's a celebration of life and happiness in a world filled with sadness and death. It's a philosophy, a riddle, a vehicle for gnosis. And deep down, it can be characterized by one simple commandment, which Jesus gave to his Apostles at the Last Supper: love one another.

It's hard not to appreciate this commandment and the spirit it was given, or the people who sincerely endeavor to follow it. It speaks to the salvific power of love, and reflects the idea that there's something special, something divine, in our interactions with other people—an idea that's mirrored in Bible passages such as, "Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love," and echoed by Church Fathers like Augustine of Hippo: "Once for all, then, a short precept is given you: Love, and do what you will: whether you hold your peace, through love hold your peace; whether you cry out, through love cry out; whether you correct, through love correct; whether you spare, through love do you spare: let the root of love be within, of this root can nothing spring but what is good."

Happy Easter/second week of Lent, everyone.

scalia and same-sex unions: bigotry disguised as reason?

In case we need any more evidence that Justice Scalia's opinions about same-sex unions are based on bigotry rather than reason or facts (as if his comments in defense of anti-sodomy laws back in December weren't enough), he further clarifies the issue for us with his recent comment that "there's considerable disagreement among sociologists as to what the consequences of raising a child in a single-sex family, whether that is harmful to the child or not" despite the fact that the American Sociological Association's official statement on the matter completely contradicts this:

The claim that same-sex parents produce less positive child outcomes than opposite-sex parents—either because such families lack both a male and female parent or because both parents are not the biological parents of their children—contradicts abundant social science research. Decades of methodologically sound social science research, especially multiple nationally representative studies and the expert evidence introduced in the district courts below, confirm that positive child wellbeing is the product of stability in the relationship between the two parents, stability in the relationship between the parents and child, and greater parental socioeconomic resources. Whether a child is raised by same-sex or opposite-sex parents has no bearing on a child's wellbeing.

The clear and consistent consensus in the social science profession is that across a wide range of indicators, children fare just as well when they are raised by same-sex parents when compared to children raised by opposite-sex parents.

While I could personally care less about marriage in and of itself, I think it's worth fighting for anything that chips away at bigotry and discrimination in our society, and against people like Scalia, who'd rather impose their bigotry onto others through the legal system. All the available evidence suggests that gay parents are good parents, and that dissolution rates for same-sex couples are slightly lower on average than divorce rates of different-sex couples. Couple that with the equal-protection clause of the 14th Amendment, and I honestly don't see how Scalia, or anyone else for that matter, can say that their opposition to same-sex marriage is based on anything but bigotry—a prejudice that more often than not arises out of religious beliefs that, in my opinion, have no place being imposed onto the rest of a secular society, especially when the First Amendment has historically been understood to provide a 'wall of separation between church and state,' protecting the former from the authority of the latter and vice versa.

I believe that a person should have the freedom to practice their religion as they see fit as long as it doesn't infringe upon the rights and freedoms of others. In this instance, making same-sex marriage legal and/or getting rid of DOMA wouldn't force churches to conduct/officiate said marriages, and it most certainly wouldn't force opponents from entering into a same-sex union; but upholding DOMA and/or making same-sex marriages illegal affects all same-sex couples and denies them equal rights under the law, which I'd argue is not only unconstitutional but unconscionable. It not even 'separate but equal'; it's 'separate and unequal.'

And the same goes for laws that target and discriminate against transgendered individuals, who often get overlooked in these kinds of debates.

why the rich don't give to charity

Today I read an interesting article from the Atlantic looking at the disparity in charitable giving between the wealthiest Americas (the top 20%) and the poorest (the bottom 20%) in terms of percentage of income—1.3% vs. 3.23% respectively. In particular, the article notes that while lower-income Americans are presumably no more intrinsically generous than anyone else, "some experts have speculated that the wealthy may be less generous—that the personal drive to accumulate wealth may be inconsistent with the idea of communal support."

If true, I think part of the reason may be due to the logic of what Marx called the 'coercive laws of competition,' which compel capitalists to accumulate capital; and this systematic drive, much like the personal drive to accumulate wealth, may be inconsistent with the idea of communal support. The working class and poor, on the other, are not only more exposed to, and familiar with, privation, but they're predominately compelled by the ever-pressing need of acquiring their means of subsistence rather than the drive to accumulate capital/personal wealth, giving them a greater feeling of solidarity with those struggling to get by and encouraging them to give more in terms of percentage of income even though they have less to give.

if only it were mine to give...

I learned today that my friend's mom passed away a few months back. While that in and of itself is bad enough, my friend wasn't able to visit her in her last days, nor was he able to attend her funeral. The reason why? US immigration laws that'd have prevented him from reentering the country, separating him from his wife and three children, as well as preventing him from reapplying for citizenship for up to a decade. I can't tell you how angry that makes me, especially since the same thing happened when his father passed away. My friend is a Mexican immigrant who original came to the US to work and help support his family, and who wants more than anything to stay in order to give his family a better life.

Working with him for 3 years and being friends for about 5, I know how much his mother meant to him, and I know how much it must have killed him to know that leaving to see her in her final days would've cost him everything he's worked so hard to achieve for the past 24 years, making his family's future even more uncertain than it already is. Under current immigration laws, neither he nor his wife can leave the country without forfeiting all the time and money they've spent the last 8 years trying to become citizens.

Because my friend, his wife, and their first daughter initially came to this country 'illegally,' and his first lawyer screwed him over by putting the wrong country of origin on his paperwork because it was easier to immigrate from certain Latin American countries, he was ultimately denied citizenship despite the fact that he's been living, working, and paying taxes in the US for over 24 years, is an asset to his present employer, has no criminal record, has two children under 18 who are legal US citizens, and has been going through the immigration process since 2005. What's worse is that while waiting for his appeal to go through, which he's heard absolutely nothing about for almost 2 years now, he's had to live in limbo, not knowing what's going to happen to him or his family if his request for citizenship is denied a second time. And now this.

Hearing about his life growing up and all the things he went through to get here, as well as the things he's had to endure just to have a chance to stay, it makes me feel ashamed that I take what I have for granted. By the sheer luck of being born on the right side of an imaginary line, I have by chance what he's strived for years to earn. I can't imagine the amount of stress he's been under, and it breaks my heart to see everything he's given up pursuing this dream. There's nobody I know who deserves to be here more than him, and if I could, I'd give him my citizenship in a heartbeat.

will the new pope live up to his name?

The Catholic world has a new pope, and at first glance, Pope Francis (previously Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio) appears to be a bit of a mixed bag. On the one hand, Francis is theologically much like his predecessor, Pope Benedict, being decidedly conservative and adamantly opposed to abortion, contraception, the ordination of women priests, and same-sex marriage, and who publicly asserted in 2010 that gay adoption is a form of discrimination against children (definitely no liberation theologian).

On the other, he has a reputation for being humble and rather austere, being more concerned about social outreach and issues like poverty and the effects of globalization than doctrinal battles. He's also known for calling out fellow church leaders for their hypocrisy, such as forgetting about the sick and the poor and for things like refusing to baptize the children of unwed mothers.

In addition, he's the first Jesuit to be elected pope, as well as the first to take the name Francis – reportedly after St. Francis of Assisi, although one can't help but suspect a slight nod towards St. Francis Xavier, co-founder of the Society of Jesus, as well – suggesting that his style may be markedly different from that of Benedict. In fact, his actions on his first day hint that Francis' papacy will be less traditional/flashy and meeker/more hands on than Benedict's.

The new pope isn't entirely free from controversy, though, and has been dogged by allegations that he may have been complicit in, or at least turned a blind-eye towards, some unsavory deeds committed by the 1976–1983 Argentinian military dictatorship, accusations that have been documented by Argentinian journalist Horacio Verbitsky's book, El Silencio: de Paulo VI a Bergoglio: las relaciones secretas de la Iglesia con la ESMA (Silence: from Paulo VI to Bergoglio: secret relations of the Church with the ESMA).

The most prominent allegation seems to be that Bergoglio was complicit in the 1976 kidnapping of two liberal Jesuit priests, a claim that was made by Orlando Yorio, one of the priests in question. He's also accused of "turning his back on the De la Cuadra family, which lost five relatives to state terror, including Estela’s sister Elena, who was five months' pregnant before she was kidnapped and killed in 1977."

His authorized biographer, however, tells a different story, one in which Bergoglio did everything he could to intervene and save the lives of the priests he's accused of putting into danger by withdrawing his order's protection of the them due to their work in the slums.

Whatever the truth of his alleged involvement in these affairs may be, I think it'll be interesting to see how his papacy will play out, especially considering the continued fallout from the Church's ongoing sex-abuse scandal and the leaked papal documents, which gave the world a peek into a corrupt and dysfunctional Vatican bureaucracy. It definitely looks like Francis is going to have his humble hands full, and it remains to be seen whether he'll live up to his namesake's call to "go and repair My house which, as you can see, is falling into ruins."

don't throw the baby out with the bathwater

With the imminent election of a new pope just around the corner, some wonder why it even matters, especially atheists and those who have a critical view of religion in general. In the hierarchy of the Catholic Church, however, the pope is important as both the executive and supreme spiritual authority of the Church, overseeing the administration of Church doctrine and other, more mundane ecclesiastical affairs (much like a secular head of state).

And for members of the Catholic Church, this means that the pope represents the will of God on earth, carrying authority from Jesus himself via the line of apostolic succession beginning with Peter, who's considered by Catholics to be the first pope. This might not mean much to someone outside the Church, or even many within it, but the office still carries with it a fair amount of spiritual and administrative authority, particularly for those looking for spiritual guidance.

That said, I can understand that, for critics of religion in general, both religion and religious authorities appear to be archaic and essentially irrelevant in our modern day and age, being relics of a superstitious past. The Catholic Church, in particular, has been opposed to social progress and change, historically as well as presently. However, despite the negatives, I think that religions not only help to give a voice to deep and profoundly moving feelings that are often difficult for us to express, but offer a spiritual and emotional dynamic to our existential suffering. As Marx wrote in his introduction to A Contribution to the Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Right:

Religious suffering is, at one and the same time, the expression of real suffering and a protest against real suffering. Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people."

Hence religion in some sense is a type of pain-killer that speaks to real and often materially-unanswered needs, and this is one of the reasons that religion shouldn't be dismissed totally off-hand. To do so is unfair to people who are themselves religious, in my opinion, and it also runs the risk of denying the underlying aspects of religion that touch the very core of our humanity and the miasma of joy, sorrow, and camaraderie that religious beliefs often speak to or find expression in. After all, religion is, among other things, a creative expression of our search for happiness, meaning, and truth in a seemingly infinite universe.

Religion can be a beautiful thing that brings communities together, as well as bring individuals closer to a happiness that transcends much of the suffering and unsatisfactoriness seemingly inherent in this fragile thing we call life. None of this is to say that religion in and of itself is somehow above criticism, of course. As sympathetic towards religion as I am, I'm also quite critical of religion's proclivity to fall into absolutism and dogmatism, not to mention its historical reliance on things like authority and tradition over evidence and rationality.

All in all, though, I'm a firm believer that a person can be both scientifically minded and spiritual at the same time; but unless such a person also tries to remain open-minded and willing to alter or even throw out their religious beliefs when they seemingly conflict with reality and the evidence presented to them, or if they end up harming and oppressing a section of the population, social progress will always be somewhat at odds with religion and religion will lose.

So while I've heard people express their desire to 'kill religion' (e.g., Dawkins et al.), and I can understand some of their reasoning for making such statements — especially when you have people using religion to justify suicide bombings and discrimination against gays, women, etc. — I also can't help but think that doing so would come at a great cost to humanity in that we'd be losing an important part of what makes us, well, human.