They Will

Look out there, upon the masses of people
Scurrying below.
They move with such purpose
And with urgency;
As if what they are doing matters
As if they as one of billions will make a difference
In the vast expanse that we call the Universe.
The funny thing is--
They will.

Does Jeremy Benthem's Utilitarianism Lead Logically Towards a Democracy or Towards a Benevolent Dictatorship?

Here is the first draft of my essay about Jeremy Bentham's utilitarianism. It is unlikely that I will post an updated draft, unless major chances are had. I expect there to be some small errors, and for that, I apologize now.

Man is by nature, a social animal. We organized ourselves into different social groupings based on geography, phenotypical features, beliefs, activities, and a seemingly uncountable amount of other differences and similarities that are held by the various members of our species. Within these social groups then, there is not a state of anarchy—but one of order. It is this order that is subject to the purview of politics. It is this order than is discussed and debated in philosophical political thought from the time of Aristotle thousands of years ago in Athens to the debates that are waged today, and everything in-between them. It is the subject of this essay to look at one political philosopher in particular—that being the British Jeremy Bentham. Bentham lived wrote his works during the later part of the Eighteenth Century, and spent much of his time discussing the idea of utility. The question to be examined in particular is whether or not his version of utilitarianism leads logically to a democracy, or whether it leads logically to a benevolent dictatorship—if such a form of government can indeed exist.

Before it can be determined as to which form of government Bentham's utilitarianism logically leads to, one must first understand how his utilitarianism functions. Fundamentally, he links everything that we as a species do to the two fundamental feelings of pain and pleasure. This includes all of the actions that we perform, as well as our sense of what is right, and what is wrong. The four sources of pain and pleasure then, according to Bentham, are physical, political, moral, and religious—termed as sanctions—with physical pain coming from a person or group of persons, political coming from the state, moral coming from “chance persons in the community, and not according to any rule” and religious being from a superior being. He sets out that his Principle of Utility recognizes that this slavery that mankind has to pain and pleasure is an underlying part of all systems. By utility, Bentham is referring to any act or object that produces a benefit, advantage, good, happiness, or pleasure—though if one thinks about it, benefits, advantages, goods, and happiness all produce pleasure in themselves—or that prevents mischief, evil, unhappiness, or pain to an individual or a community—though again, like those things synonymous with pleasure, mischief, evil, and unhappiness are also sources of pain. Thus, utility is essentially any act or object that brings about pleasure or that prevents the bringing about of pain. He believes that all people must and do act in accordance with this principle, even if it is done so unconsciously.

Bentham believes that the correct application of the Principle of Utility is to promote the interest of an individual or community. The interest of the community being the aggregate interest of the individuals that together make the community, and the interest of the individual being a simply arithmetic calculation of the sum of the pleasures minus the sum of the pains that are brought about by the execution of any particular action, where the difference between the pleasures and the pains is positive—that being, having more pleasure than pain. These pains and pleasures are valued, for an individual then, based off of their intensity, duration, certainty—and conversely, uncertainty—, and their propinquity—and conversely, their remoteness. When assessing the value of pain and pleasure for a group, one must also use the same criteria as for an individual, whilst also taking into account how likely it is that the event will occur again—which he calls its fecundity—, the chance that it will be followed by sensations of the opposite affects—which he calls its purity—, and finally how many people it affects—which he refers to as its extent. He argues then that it is the responsibility of government to adhere to the Principle of Utility in regards to the community in which it presides over in any actions that it carries out. Because it is the responsibility of the government to follow the Principle of Utility when legislating for its community, the causes of pain and pleasure are subject to the purview of legislation of the government. It is important to note, however, that all pleasures and pains have much to do with legislation, such as the pleasure that is derived from the strength an individual possesses.  With the question of how the government should act settled, the next logical question is how the government goes about doing this. The answer is quite simply, really. In order to follow the Principle of Utility, the government must reward—or rather, give pleasure—and punish—that being, inflicting pain—on individuals within the community to enforce or reinforce behavior that is in the interest of the community as a whole.

Positive reinforcement for actions that are in line with the Principle of Utility is fine and good, as it is bringing pleasure into the world, but what about the idea of punishment? Punishment is, after all, bringing pain into the world, which does, at its surface, appear to be in contradiction with the Principle of Utility. This is however, not the case—that is, if the punishment is given rightly. Punishment, according to Bentham, is an important part of maintaining order in society, and the formula for how punishments should be given is quite simple, really. First, in order for the state to punish, a law must first be broken. This can be a law such as theft, or it can be the breaking of a contract—or as he says, to be more general, compact—between multiple parties. Second, one must consider the intentionality of the act, the circumstances in which it occurred, and the consciousness of the conditions that accompanied it. All of these should be considered in what punishment should be given. This is because while punishment is evil, as it is bringing pain into the world, it is the lesser of the two evils that are present; that by punishing an individual, the government is providing enough pain that the calculus that the individual will make in the future regarding the same action they performed will lead them to the conclusion that it is not worth doing said act again; in regards to others, that the example made by punishing the individual who committed the crime will be enough to dissuade them from conducting the same or similar acts. However, the government should not hand-down punishments that are either too heavy nor too weak—the punishment should be just enough to change the calculus of the individual, and nothing more—for any more would be bringing unneeded pain into the world. By this same logic, there are times in which no punishment should be given, such as when an action bring no mischief, when the cost of the punishment is higher than the mischief that was brought about by the act, if the punishment would be ineffective—as is the case with ex post facto punishment, of ignorance of the law (but not ignorance through negligence, which is inexcusable), of infancy, of intoxication, of insanity, of actions of defense of self, of unintentional, unconscious, or involuntary acts—or if the mischief would cease without any punishment being given.

That covers how a government should go about adhering to the Principle of Utility. However, what a government is has not yet been defined. It is obviously associated with a group of people, but how is not revealed by Bentham in his discussion of the Principle of Utility. Instead, he discusses it in his A Fragment on Government. In this work, Bentham is responding to an author who is trying to lay out what governments are and how they function—among other things. The author says that society forms to protect the individuals within in—both in their persons, but also in their rights—and that governments exist as a way to organize societies. The original government then, is set up by the general consent of the people involved—that being the governors and the governed—and the government itself remaining as long as the two aforementioned groups fulfill their obligations in the compact that they have formed—namely that the governed will give obedience to the governors, and that the governors will act in the interests of the governed. Thus, according to Bentham, the proper amount of government is as much “as necessary to preserve and to keep that society in order.” However, there are qualifications in being a governor, and for government itself.

First, in order to be a governor, one must posses certain endowments. The endowments that are believed important are wisdom, goodness, and the ability to have and effectively use political power. He then asserts that there are three types, or as he calls them, species, of government—being monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy. Monarchy is defined as rule by one, democracy rule by “all,” and aristocracy rule by a number between one and all. These three types of government, it is argued, have their advantages and disadvantages. Monarchy is said to be the best at the execution of law, as the efficacy of the execution of law is based on the will of that which is executing it—as will that is both swift and true with a single person. However, a monarch lacks in wisdom and goodness as compared to an aristocracy or a democracy. Aristocracies excel in wisdom, but are poor in execution and in goodness when compared to the other forms of government, while democracies excel in the goodness at the ends of their laws, while their efficacy and the execution is lacking comparatively. So are the three forms of government as laid out in A Fragment on Government. While Bentham makes no direct assertions as to which is the most desired of these three forms of government, he does leave clues as to what he believes is the correct form of organizing society, which lead into the logical form of government that results from his utilitarianism—that being either a benevolent dictatorship or a democracy.

First, let us look to back to Bentham's An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation. In this work, Benthem lays out his Principle of Utility, and otherwise talks about how it is applied to legislation, taking no particular stand as to any particular form of government being better than another. However, toward the end of this work, he does talk about the motives of individuals, which is important when trying to determine if a single individual should be running a government, or if many should. In the last part of the work, in the section on the penal branch of jurisprudence, he raises the question as to whether or not a man can be brought to care for the well-being and happiness of others, concluding that while the only certain happiness he will attempt to satisfy is his own, that man does have some intrinsic motive, if only at a level of his own social status, to care for other members of the community. Sympathy would also be important in this regard. Therefore, if one is to rule, they must have a bias towards sensibility and sympathy, and they must possess a great enough intellect to understand that by helping others that they are doing good—in short, good private ethics.23. While this does not point directly towards a benevolent dictatorship, where the dictator would be the person who is most disposed towards the aforementioned traits, it does rule out the idea of a direct democracy, in favor of more elite democratic republican models of government. All that Bentham shows here is that whomever would legislate would simply need to have good private ethics.

Now, we must turn again back to A Fragment on Government. If we look to the segment on the differences between a natural and a political society, Bentham states that a political society is a positive one, while a natural society is a negative one, with a political society being one in which people have a habit obedience to a person or a group of persons, while a natural society is one in which people have a habit of conversing with each other while not having a habit of obedience to a person or group of persons. Again, like the previous example of Bentham's biases towards one form of government or the other, this example does not help the cause of a democracy. It is natural for people to converse with each other, as was the ways of bands of humans back in time immemorial. While this is referred to as tribalistic government today, it is democratic in nature. Now, this does not rule out the idea of an democratic republic, but it does most certainly hurt its prospects, pointing more toward an aristocratic or monarchical form of government. At the same time, Bentham also uses an example that favors democracy more than it favors a benevolent dictatorship. In describing how people can interact with one another, he describes the idea that a person may both give and receive orders at the same time—even governors. Because a benevolent dictatorship would be a monarchical form of government, in that there is only one ruler, the benevolent dictator, this logic would not apply to it, but rather to an democracy or some other non-monarchical mixed form of government.

Of particular relevance to the question at-hand is Bentham's discussion of the British House of Commons—which is a democratic institution. When discussing it, there is brought up the issue of poverty among the members. It is argued that if they are poor, then they cannot be educated, and if they are not educated, then would be illiterate, and therefore ignorant, and altogether unfit for the job they have. While he eventually counters this by countering the assumption that the members elected would be poor, there is still the issue as to the status of the electorate. In the Britain of the day, and in the current Capitalistic world that we live in today, the majority of people live in poverty. The majority of the people are un—or at the very least, under—educated. While illiteracy is not nearly as large of an issue as it would have been at the time of Bentham, it does still exist—but more so, ignorance exists. Without a proper education, people are able to read, but not able to properly sift through the massive amounts of information that is available to them—leading to beliefs in such ludicrous things as vaccinations causing autism and global climate change not existing, or not being caused by mankind. Given this, it would seem that the majority of people, when poor, un and/or under-educated, and ignorant, they are ripe for manipulation and mistakes—mistakes that an educated elite, or a single benevolent dictator, chosen from the ranks of those predisposed to good private ethics as Bentham laid out in his An Introduction to the Principle of Morals and Legislation, would not make. This is compounded with the fact that the poor work hard and long, and with little time for leisure, they are unable to contemplate and reflect on legislation, and thus are prone to act rashly. It was true at the time of Bentham, and it is true today, with people having to work multiple jobs just to get by.

Looking at all of this combined, it would seem that the most effective, and thus the most logical form of government that comes from the utilitarianism of Jeremy Bentham would that of a benevolent dictatorship. While Bentham does believe that people can both give an receive orders, and does have faith in legislators picking the path of legislation that produces the least mischief—there does not appear to be much else that he says in favor of democracy. Most of the utilitarianism that Bentham lays out applies to all forms of government—especially in An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation, which only really lends itself towards either a benevolent dictatorship or a republic of some sort. In A Fragment on Government though, Bentham leans heavily in favor of dictatorial or aristocratic—used here to mean oligarchical—forms of government, with the idea of a negative natural society and positive political society to all-together justified fear of ignorance and the uneducated making decisions in government. If we look at Bentham's utilitarianism, it would seem to lead logically toward a benevolent dictatorship.

Aristotle--a Good Man vs. a Good Citizen

Here is an essay that I wrote on the differences between a good man and a good citizen, as seen by Aristotle. This essay was written under duress, with the reading of Ethics and Politics occurring within a 72 hour window (along with the writing of this essay). I don't know how many of you will enjoy it, but here you go.

Humanity has walked the surface of the Earth for thousands of years. Up until quite recently, this has been in the form of small tribes and bands of hunter-gathers. Approximately four thousand years ago, that changed, with the advent of agriculture and subsequently the creation of civilization. While this first occurred in the Fertile Crescent and along both the Nile and Indus rivers, the first of what we would call “Western Civilization” began in a region of the Balkans called Greece. The Greek polis or city-state was the hallmark of the era, and several strong states, such as Sparta, Corinth, and Athens, dominated the region. It is also to the Greeks that we—that being “Western Civilization”—looks back to for the fundamental foundations of our philosophical thought. We look to Socrates and his methodology. We look to Plato, and his Republic. And we look at Aristotle, the who was the student of Plato, and whose work much of “Western” thought is still based off of today. While Aristotle tackled many important and difficult issues during his time, one of the most important questions he attempted to answer was what makes a good man, and what makes a good citizen, and how they are not entirely the same.

In order to understand what makes a good citizen, one must first understand what a citizen is—for Aristotle had a quite specific definition, which he laid out in full in his Politics,  one that is not the same as is used today. Today, we view all people over the age of eighteen as citizens (eighteen being the age at which people can vote). We do not put any restrictions on who can become citizens, so long as they were born in the State in which they wish to be citizens, or they have at least one parent who is a citizen. For Aristotle though, it took much more to be a citizen. Firstly, in order to be a citizen, one must first be a man—for women had no real place in public life, as their place was the household. Secondly, one must not be a slave, but a free man. In addition to not being a slave, one must not have a career in fields of manual labour. Aristotle adds this specification because he believed that if one worked in manual labour, then instead of being ruled via statesmanship—also referred to as citizen rule over fellow citizens and rule by turns—they were being ruled by someone who ruled them like a master and his slaves. So being a manual worker meant you too were not a citizen. Another requirement that Aristotle had was that both of the parents of an individual must be from the place that they are wanting to be a citizen of (I say from the place in which they want to be a citizen of, for women could not be citizens. Though in order to be an Athenian, one must have an Athenian father and mother)4. The last major requirement regarding the nature of the individual citizen is that they must be of the proper age to serve in either judicial or legislative office. Aristotle also had requirements in the actions of the people who were eligible to be citizens. He believed that in order to be a citizen, one must meet certain obligations—chief among which was holding an official position in the State. This, he said, was vital in ensuring the constitution of the State—constitution here meaning the underlying conditions/states that exist within—which is essential for the survival of the State.

Such is how Aristotle defines what it means to be a citizen of a city-state with a democratic constitution. The question still remains however as to what makes a citizen good. For  this, Aristotle looks to the idea of virtues, which he explains in much more detail in his work Nicomachean Ethics. In Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle tries to decipher happiness and virtues, and ultimately what is good. To simplify, he viewed good as the end of goals. He then also viewed happiness as complete, without qualification—meaning that it is a good. Virtues, he said, are chosen by people for their own right, but also in an attempt to achieve happiness, and ultimately contribute towards one being good. He believed that there were two types of virtues—those of the soul and those of the body. Virtues were in his mind the middle ground—which he calls the mean—between excess and deficiency in the aspect of life they are related to.10 Essentially, virtues are experiencing pleasure and pain at the right times, and in the right amounts. One example Aristotle gives us is the that of giving and taking money. In this example, the virtue is generosity, the excess is wastefulness, and he deficiency is stinginess. In this example, a wasteful person would give too much money away, and take too little, whilst a stingy person would take in too much money, and give to little away. It is also important to note that Aristotle believed that it was only actions that involved rational choice that were subject to the purview of virtue. He also believed that actions were crucial in being good, saying that, “in life, it is those who act rightly who will attain what is noble and good,” and that, “actions in accordance with virtue are pleasant in themselves...[as well as being] good and noble.”

It would seem, then, simple enough to be considered good be Aristotle. A good person would need to simply do virtuous actions. These virtuous actions would be good, as virtue is good, and therefor, they will make the person who carries them out good as well. While this is the essence of what Aristotle says, there is more to it. Firstly, the actions that the person takes must be voluntary in nature, for there is nothing virtuous in involuntary actions. Conversely, however, an individual is not responsible for involuntary actions—at least in how it affects one being virtuous or not. Cohesion and ignorance both constitute an action being involuntary—or the choosing of the lesser of two evils, though that is subject to the judgment of a State official—though ignorance through negligence does not make the actions of an individual involuntary. While most involuntary actions are pardonable, it is important to note that some are not—though Aristotle does not go into more specific detail on this particular matter. He also believed that actions were influenced by perception, desire, and intellect—with desires shaping rational decision making. One might believe that, based off of what has already been said that man and woman and child and beast could all satisfy the criteria that Aristotle has given. This is however, not the case. Aristotle dealt very little with the subject of women, however in regards to children and animals, he believed that they cannot make rational decisions.

Such is how Aristotle described the nature of virtues, and how they are used and applied, in Nicomachean Ethics. Taking this, we can then apply it to how he discusses the makings of a good citizen and a good person in Politics. He points out that all citizens have a role that they play in society—whether it be a legislator or member of the judiciary, or some other role entirely—and that there is virtue in these roles, but that they also share the common role of maintaining stability of the constitution of the State. However, due to the vast amount of constitutions that exist within the state of individuals, there cannot be one perfect virtue of a good citizen. While there is no single perfect virtue of a good citizen, that is not the case for a good person, as Aristotle said, “a man is good because of one single virtue which is perfect virtue.” This then means, according to Aristotle, that one can have a good citizen while not being a good person. However, that does not exclude the possibility that a particular person cannot share the same virtue that makes them a good citizen and a man—such as a good ruler, who is both good and wise (having the practical wisdom that is not shared by other citizens)23. However, if the common citizen has not practical wisdom, then there must be some commonality that makes them akin to their ruler, for the ruler is both a ruler and a citizen. Aristotle's answer to this is that the virtue of a citizen is to understand the governing of free men from both points of view (that of the governed and the governor), and that the virtue of practical wisdom belongs to rulers whilst the virtue of correct opinion belongs to those being ruled. It is with that that Aristotle concludes his discussion of what makes a good citizen and a good person in politics, shifting to a discussion of the different forms of government.

In the discussion of what makes a citizen and what makes one good, and how that then relates to what makes a good person, Aristotle had a cohesive—though long-winded answer. He believed that a citizen was a free man who was born to two inhabitants of the State in which he belonged to, who worked in fields in which they were ruled over by statesmanship, and not a master, such as a manual laborer would, who is of a certain age, and who holds either legislative or judicial office. He believed that what makes a citizen good is the virtue of understanding the governing of free men from both points of view, the virtue of practical wisdom (for leaders), the virtue within fulfilling the role that one has, and the upholding of the stability of the constitution of the State. In his detailing of what makes a person good, Aristotle looked at virtues, actions, and rational decisions—with those who were good being those who acted rationally with virtue. Due to the nature of what makes a good person, and what makes a good citizen then, it is possible for one to be a good citizen without being a good person, and for one to be a good person without being a good citizen.

These are the views of Aristotle. While he may—and indeed was—a brilliant thinker, and quintessential in the development of philosophical thought in both the “Western” world and the Islamic world, he was, in my opinion, mistaken in many aspects. First, there is the issue of sexism, which I hope is self-explanatory, and requires nothing further. There is also the issue of his belief that animals and children cannot make rational decisions. I believe that this train of thought is misguided, for is it not true that all life acts under the rationals that it has gained through both experience and instinct? If one were to punish a child every time they exhibited unwarranted wroth, then said child would rationally choose to stop exhibiting said wroth. The same can be said with a horse, which if fed when complying with its trainer and punished when not, the horse will rationally choose to comply with the trainer. I also find fault in the idea that a manual worker cannot be a citizen. What makes one who takes more direct orders (such as a slave) any less a person that someone who does not? For manual workers are not slaves, as they have the choice in what they do (to the extent that people have choices given the metaphorical hand of cards that is dealt to them). Those are but a few of the problems that I have with Aristotle, though in a whole, he train of thought does make a good deal of sense.

Is all violence secular violence?

Cananaugh’s writing in The Anatomy of Myth focuses on debunking—or rather countering—the three main arguments as to why religion causes violence4 (those being that it is absolutist, divisive, and it is insufficiently rational). One of the main arguments that he raises against the different theories of religion causing violence is that the distinction is not clear enough between religious violence and secular violence. This is a valid criticism, assuming that there is a difference. I contend that there is no difference between religious and secular violence. I argue that there is only secular violence, and it is all rooted in power and security.

We must first look at why violence occurs. I will start with the international level, and the largest form of violence—war. According to offensive realism, war occurs because states are always trying to increase their security. However, because international affairs is a zero-sum game, they can only achieve security by taking it from others. This is why war occurs over territory. Territory acquisition increases the power of a state, and therefore, its security. This logic also applies to war over resources—especially important resources such as Rare Earth Elements, which are used in the manufacturing of advanced weaponry. Now, I believe that these would be considered acts of secular violence, but what about holy war? Well, if you apply the same logic of the acquisition of land, it would seem that they are about power. It could also be that holy wars are about the power of the religion as a whole. By waging a holy war, by winning one, the religion is asserting its religious authority over others, and over the people it already has under its control. So, while there is a religious justification, holy wars (such as Crusades or Jihad) are actually secular wars for power.

Take, for example, the Inquisition. Some might say that the violence conducted by the Inquisition was without a secular cause—that it was a case of pure, unadulterated religious violence. I am not one of those people. Put yourself in the shoes of the Catholic Church, for a moment. Right now, you have dominion over all of Christendom (to some extent). Reading is not widespread and religious diversity is low. The best way to maintain power is to minimize free thought. If people think freely, then they can rebel against you. People who held heretical beliefs, therefore, must be removed so that your power will remain. So in that sense, the Inquisition (and all religious discrimination by a majority group against minority groups) are done for the sake of power.

Let us now turn our attention to religious terrorism—specifically that of radical Islamism. Now, one could say that they are fighting a war against “the infidel.” One could argue that terrorism by groups such as al Qaeda and Hamas is religious in nature—but I do not. If you look at the places where these terrorist groups originated—Iraq, Palestine, Afghanistan—they are all places that are still going through the process of colonialization. This is in itself a time marked by instability—without the added support of authoritarian regimes by Western powers—namely the United States. So while they may use religion as a justification, as a rationalization for their acts of violence, these terrorist groups are really acting as guerillas. They are fighting against oppression for the power of self-determination that has been denied to them by the West.

The Black Rider

A man, dressed in black rides into the town.
He sits upon a nightmare colored stead,
His face obscured by hi black woolen cloak.
He enters the town with the setting sun,
Bringing with him the cold and dark of night.
The blackness of the night enveloping--
A shade, taking the town into its folds.
The black rider is met by a lone knight,
Who he beheads with one swing of his sword,
Leaving the knight to fall to ground behind.
And so it was for all the rider passed,
Either death by steel or by pestilence.
And thus he made his way out of the town,
Leaving it a lifeless set of houses.

Reactionary Dolts

I see
The rising tide.
Ignorant and stupid,
Elect reactionary dolts--
Our doom.

We are all slaves (to capitalism and consumerism)

I am a slave.

You are a slave.

We are slaves to the culture of capitalism and the consumerism that we are all a part of. They are our masters. They tell us how we are supposed to dress, how we are to work, and what we are supposed to eat and to drink. They urge us to consume, to endlessly consume new things—new clothes and cars and cell phones—when there is nothing wrong with the older things.

In fashion, we are told that fall is here, and that orange is in, that it is what is cool. Then winter rolls around, and now orange is out, and red is in. This cycle continues indefinitely, with colors and cuts constantly changing, moderate iterations on previous styles. We are made to perceive—nay, we are told—that if we don’t consume these newest fashions that we will lose social standing. In that way, we are slaves to the culture of capitalism and consumerism.

In the world of gadgets, of technology, we are made to consume by minor improvements or alterations of design. You should really go get a new refrigerator to replace that year-old one. You couldn’t possibly live without that extra inch of space that the new model has. Goodness gracious, have you seen the new iPhone? It is one percent faster than last years’ model. But you know, maybe it’s a good thing that you did buy the new model, because in another year or so, the old one you had would have broken, since they are designed to work only until the warranty has expired.. So in that way, we are slaves to the culture of capitalism and consumerism.

Even in how we perceive social interactions are we slaves to the culture of consumerism and capitalism. If I see a girl that I like, and I want to get to know her better, I ask if we can get some coffee, or get some lunch, or maybe a romantic candlelit dinner. If I want to catch up with an old friend, I ask him if he wants to go get a drink. Social interactions have become an excuse to consume. Think about holidays. On Valentine’s Day and Halloween, and Easter for that matter, we buy candy. Their original purpose has become clouded, as they now serve as reasons to consume. The worst offender of them all though is Christmas—the holy day in which everyone goes and spends money on presents for the people who matter in their lives. So much money being spent—so much profit being made.

I am a slave.

You are a slave.

We are all slaves to the culture of capitalism and consumerism that permeates our society.