Profit, Wages, and the Human Good

In his work What is Property? Pierre-Joseph Proudhon famously declares that “property is theft.”[1] In particular, Proudhon has in mind the products of labor, which, under capitalism, the worker produces but does not own. Nor can she afford to buy them, Proudhon says, “Because the right of increase does not permit these things to be sold at the cost-price, which is all that laborers can afford to pay.”[2]

In a capitalist system, the means of production (i.e., land, factories, tools and machinery, as well as stocks and bonds, etc.) are privately owned in order to maximize profit (and these privately owned means of production are what we refer to as “private property”). Workers are hired to produce with these means of production commodities that can be sold on the market. In order to ensure profit, these products must be sold for more than the cost of producing them. Furthermore, most of this consequent surplus value does not go to the workers but rather to those who own the means of production. A fraction of surplus value is then returned to the workers in the form of wage.

What this means is that, quite literally, the value produced in the workers’ labor is stolen from them and only partially returned (an objection which, as it happens, sounds rather similar to capitalist anti-taxation arguments). And the owners have a vested interest in keeping the workers’ wages as low as possible, so that profit is maximized as much as possible. As Milton Friedman insists, businesses have no social responsibility whatsoever other than the maximization of profit.[3]

Karl Marx writes in the Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844:

For [political economy], therefore, the worker’s needs are but the one need – to maintain him while he is working insofar as may be necessary to prevent the race of laborers from dying out. The wages of labor have thus exactly the same significance as the maintenance and servicing of any other productive instrument . . . Wages, therefore, belong to capital’s and the capitalist’s necessary costs, and must not exceed the bounds of this necessity.[4]

In other words, wages, according to Marx, are literally a maintenance fee.

Human beings are seen (whether implicitly or explicitly) solely in terms of potential profit. Unemployed persons, then, are not producing profit and therefore needn’t be afforded the maintenance fees of wages. Capitalism, in other words, annihilates the possibility of thinking of persons or things as intrinsically valuable – all value is externalized and measured against capital, which is the sole and absolute measure of value.

This is readily apparent when we consider the fact that we must purchase the things that keep us alive (i.e., food, shelter, healthcare, etc.) – which is to say that our very lives are commodities to be purchased. And the only way that we can afford to do this – speaking in the hypothetical absence of a welfare state, which is continually derided as “socialist” and therefore fundamentally anti-capitalist – is if we have jobs, which is to say if we are producing value. And “value,” of course, means capital. If I am not profitable to the capitalist, then I have no standing in relation to capital, the absolute measure of value. And, therefore, quite literally, I have no value and do not “deserve” food, shelter, healthcare, etc. Marx is once again helpful on this issue: “The worker exists as a worker only when he exists for himself as capital; and he exists as capital only when some capital exists for him. The existence of capital is his existence; his life[.]”[5]

What is often forgotten, it seems, is that it was anarchists, socialists, and other labor activists who were fighting against capitalists in favor of such basic worker protections as an eight-hour day, forty-hour week, minimum wage, and child labor laws. All of these cut into profits, and, furthermore, in the case of unskilled labor, if one worker demands a living wage, the capitalist can fire the worker and have a new one, who is willing to work for low wages, hired and trained by the end of the day. Workers are utterly expendable and, as human beings, have no value in and of themselves. Their value is literally a question of how much profit they bring to the capitalists.

On its own, capitalism ignores externalities, such as damage to the environment or the implications for the well-being of society. Frans de Waal points out another telling quotation from Milton Friedman, who says, “few trends could so very undermine the foundations of our free society as the acceptance by corporate officials of a social responsibility other than to make as much money for their stockholders as possible.”[6]

As social creatures, our well-being as individuals directly correlates to the well-being of the whole. We are not atomistic individuals who make totally free, totally isolated market choices, which have no effect on society as a whole (an assumption upon which capitalism, as a product of Enlightenment thought, rests). Individual choices have implications for society at large. It’s no mystery why societies in which everyone has access to the basic necessities of food, healthcare, and education are generally happier, healthier, and safer.

I’m not talking about utopia. I’m not saying all our problems will be solved if we just tax the rich a little more and redistribute wealth more equally. I’m talking about how to make things better. Hell, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that healthy, happy, and safe workers are better workers. True, ensuring this might cost more in the short-term, but if capitalism were capable of considering long-term impacts – which, granted, I don’t really think it is or ever will be – then increased worker protection and social welfare would be a no-brainer. To be sure, this is an argument for what I take to be a relatively morally neutral “Enlightened Self-Interest” (i.e., I do what’s good for others because it is also what’s good for me), but it’s a hell of a lot better than the straightforward egoism of free market capitalism.

Ann Jones recently published an article in which she praises the social-democratic system of Norway. Now, again, I’m no social democrat (I’m much more strongly anti-capitalist than that), but I do think that Jones makes some important points regarding the superiority of a system that protects more than just the profitability of corporations. She writes, for example:

In the Nordic countries, on the other hand, democratically elected governments give their populations freedom from the market by using capitalism as a tool to benefit everyone. That liberates their people from the tyranny of the mighty profit motive that warps so many American lives, leaving them freer to follow their own dreams—to become poets or philosophers, bartenders or business owners, as they please.

Putting aside the question of whether and to what extent this truly happens in Norway (I’m not the one to ask), Jones is making a point here that I have often tried to make before: The world needs folks who are doing what they are passionate about. Why? Well, for one thing, there is the Enlightened Self-Interest argument that folks who are passionate about what they are doing will obviously do better than folks who are not, and that excellent work will benefit society as a whole.

Another angle on this is that it helps reaffirm the inherent value of work. Socialism is often misunderstood as the position that it doesn’t matter how much work you do, you should still be paid the same at the end of the day. Putting aside the fact that the presence of any form of monetary remuneration is altogether rejected by many socialists, this is not quite the argument.

Marx, for example, made a point of arguing that human beings need meaningful labor, but that capitalism denies most of us this basic human good – something like 80% of Americans hate their jobs – in the name of greater circulation of cheap commodities (implying that “freedom” is fundamentally “freedom to consume”). Labor has become totally instrumentalized – a mere means to the end of having food to eat. Socialism, then, wants to reclaim the inherent value and goodness of labor.

For some socialists, such as communists, this may indeed mean the total abolition of any and all forms of currency and remuneration. For others, such as collectivists, a labor theory of value (i.e., the value of a product is determined on the basis of the labor required to make it) would guide a labor note system, wherein remuneration would be relative to one’s work, but with the crucial difference from capitalist forms of remuneration that the inherent value of life and labor would be affirmed such that even those who do less skilled or less dangerous forms of work would have their needs met just because they are human beings and as such do not need to “earn” the “right” to live.

The capitalist threat of destitution may ensure that most of us work, but work at what? Convincing people to buy cheap clothes they don’t need made by slave children in Bangladesh? Knowingly selling electronics – also made by slaves – that are intended to break in three years to ensure the next model sells? Selling fast food products that are ridiculously unhealthy? What social goods are being promoted with these kinds of jobs? And yet, these are the kinds of jobs that low-wage workers typically have. Do we really need to make sure this kind of labor endures? Just because consumers have been manipulated by advertisements into providing “demand” for these “services”?

Individual persons do not exist in vacuums and neither, by extension, do their market choices. We need to recognize ourselves as intimately bound up with the social whole. Noam Chomsky enquires after the human good in his most recent publication, and ultimately argues that a form of libertarian socialism is the answer. I am inclined to agree, but I do not claim to know. I’m not interested in drawing up blueprints for the perfect society of the future. I’m interested in how well we look after each other right now, and I have to say, free market capitalism seems to me to be one of the worst ways of doing so.

As I’ve argued before, capitalism is inherently and necessarily plutocratic, and therefore anti-democratic by its very nature. Socialism, on the other hand, is not only the position that we need democracy, but that democracy should go all the way down into the workplace, where the wheels of society truly turn. Accordingly, if we want democracy, we need socialism.


 

Notes

[1] Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, from What is Property?, in Anarchism: A Documentary History of Libertarian Ideas, Volume One: From Anarchy to Anarchism (300CE to 1939), edited by Robert Graham, (Montreal/New York/London: Black Rose Books, 2005), 34.

[2] Ibid., 35.

[3] Milton Friedman, “The Social Responsibility of Business is to Increase Profit,” The New York Times Magazine, 13 September 1970, available from: http://www.colorado.edu/studentgroups/libertarians/issues/friedman-soc-resp-business.html.

[4] Karl Marx, Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844, trans. Martin Milligan (Amherst: Prometheus Books, 1988), 86.

[5] Ibid.

[6] Frans de Waal, The Age of Empathy: Nature’s Lessons for a Kinder Society, (Three Rivers Press: New York, 2009), 38.

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Notes On Anarchism: Plutocracy or Democracy

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Capitalism is antithetical to democracy. The choice between socialism and capitalism is, to my mind, a choice between democracy and effective plutocracy (i.e., rule by the wealthy). Socialism, as the collective ownership of the means of production, implies the most radical form of direct democracy. Under capitalism, on the other hand — particularly as advocated by modern-day libertarians and so-called “anarcho”-capitalists — one votes with one’s dollar, which is to say, the wealthier one is, the more power one has. Money literally is power. Being heard, just like everything else (i.e., safety, healthcare, education, food, shelter, etc.), is a commodity to be purchased in the market place. One is only as free as one can afford. And because capitalism is not meritocratic, as I have argued before, I take this to be a pretty damning problem.

Notes On Anarchism: Earning and Deserving

In capitalist societies, human life is not inherently valued. It is something that must be bought, and in order to afford it, one must sell oneself to the capitalists, prove oneself profitable, and in return will receive wages which will (hopefully) be enough to purchase life’s basic necessities–viz., food, housing, healthcare, etc. When the things that are necessary to survive are conceived as things to be earned, as things which one does not deserve simply in virtue of being human, then human life itself cannot be said to be held as inherently valuable. If it were, the things necessary to sustain this supposedly inherently valuable life would not be a matter of being earned just in case one meets certain conditions. The only inherently valuable thing in a capitalist society is capital. And I have a real problem with any system that values something–anything–above human life.

“Human Nature”?

Poor human nature, what horrible crimes have been committed in thy name! Every fool, from king to policeman, from the flatheaded parson to the visionless dabbler in science, presumes to speak authoritatively of human nature. The greater the mental charlatan, the more definite his insistence on the wickedness and weaknesses of human nature. Yet, how can any one speak of it today, with every soul in a prison, with every heart fettered, wounded, and maimed?

John Burroughs has stated that experimental study of animals in captivity is absolutely useless. Their character, their habits, their appetites undergo a complete transformation when torn from their soil in field and forest. With human nature caged in a narrow space, whipped daily into submission, how can we speak of its potentialities?

Freedom, expansion, opportunity, and, above all, peace and repose, alone can teach us the real dominant factors of human nature and all its wonderful possibilities.[1]

It is commonly assumed that “human nature” severely limits our potential for improving our social, political, and economic situation. The concept is used almost exclusively as a negative to counter so-called utopians and radicals. “Human nature,” say the dissenters, will take over without a centralized government (read: monopoly of force), or capitalist economic system, and society will devolve into a Hobbesian war of all against all. However, if we must talk about something called human nature, I think we need to take into account all of the scientific evidence—which I take to be pretty convincing—that not only does human existence include a self-interested struggle for survival, but also strong elements of empathy and mutual aid, which are the foundations of our moral thinking. In this case, human nature—if it exists—might not be such a terrible thing.

I would begin, however, by pointing out that if human nature truly is as ultimately selfish and greedy a thing as this argument seems to assume, how are the best preventative actions against this to a) give a few of these selfish and greedy people a monopoly of force over the rest; and b) to construct an economic system in which the one and only goal is the maximization of profit? It seems to be a truism that if the maximization of profit is the singular goal of our economic system, this will result in slavery, exploitation, and abject poverty, as these are quite profitable for the capitalists! And how much worse would these things manifest themselves if the human nature camp were correct! What more could expect? This argument seems to essentially lead to the conclusion that if we can’t beat ’em, we may as well feed ’em. But then again, why would we want to beat them at all? If we are all ultimately bad, evil, corrupt, depraved, or whatever term we choose to use, why would we ever have decided that being bad was, well, bad? Why do the overwhelming majority of moral theories developed by philosophers over the centuries praise selflessness over selfishness? If the human nature camp is right, it seems that this would be akin to praising not breathing over breathing. In other words, it wouldn’t be a moral issue at all!

However, as I suggested at the beginning, I think that the entire concept of “human nature” is incredibly suspect. For one thing, if, for example, states and capitalism (and state capitalism) are necessary to prevent the destruction and chaos that would be wrought by allowing human nature free reign, how did we survive so long before figuring this out? Both Peter Kropotkin, in Mutual Aid, and Frans de Waal, in The Age of Empathy, have convincingly argued that we would never have survived the evolutionary process if Hobbes and friends were right. De Waal, for example, dispels three of the most prevalent myths concerning human origins: “that our ancestors ruled the savanna”[2], “that human society is the creation of autonomous men”[3], and “that our species has been waging war for as long as it has been around.”[4] “Empathy,” de Waal concludes, “is part of our evolution, and not just a recent part, but an innate, age-old capacity.”[5]

We survived the evolutionary process because we are social creatures, who depended on one another and took care of one another, and “It is evident,” according to Kropotkin,

that it would be quite contrary to all that we know of nature if men were an exception to so general a rule: if a creature so defenseless as man was at his beginnings should have found his protection and his way to progress, not in mutual support, like other animals, but in a reckless competition for personal advantages, with no regard to the interests of the species.[6]

The man (it is always a man) of rugged individualism, who is at bottom self-interested, greedy, and perhaps even evil, would have died off before such a time—over 100,000 years into his existence—when such things as states and profit developed to prevent him from killing all the other members of his species. As David Graeber writes in Debt,

There is a direct line from the new Roman conception of liberty—not as the ability to form mutual relationships with others, but as the kind of absolute power of “use and abuse” over the conquered chattel who make up the bulk of a wealthy Roman man’s household—to the strange fantasies of liberal philosophers like Hobbes, Locke, and Smith about the origins of human society in some collection of thirty- or forty-year-old males who seem to have sprung from the earth fully formed, who then must decide whether to kill each other or to swap beaver pelts.[7]

“Social Darwinists may disagree,” says de Waal, “but from a truly Darwinian perspective it is entirely logical to expect a “social motive” in group-living animals, one that makes them strive for a well-functioning whole.”[8] This social motive, however, arguably runs counter to capitalism. Milton Friedman recognized this when he wrote that “few trends could so very undermine the foundations of our free society as the acceptance by corporate officials of a social responsibility other than to make as much money for their stockholders as possible.”[9] Graeber concurs that the capitalist corporation

is a structure designed to eliminate all moral imperatives but profit. The executives who make decisions can argue—and regularly do—that, if it were their own money, of course they would not fire lifelong employees a week before retirement, or dump carcinogenic waste next to schools. Yet they are morally bound to ignore such considerations, because they are mere employees whose only responsibility is to provide the maximum return on investment for the company’s stockholders.[10]

So, again, if human nature truly were such an evil thing, this fact would hardly constitute an argument in favor of capitalism.

Furthermore, it is an incredibly reductive way of thinking. I often hear that we are faced with an either/or choice between affirming the ultimate goodness or badness of humanity. But it’s unclear to me why we have to face this either/or at all. In doing so, we nihilistically resign ourselves to our supposedly evil natures. We know that this or that will never work—whether it be anarchism, socialism, an end to war, the abolition of economics that centralize greed—because of human nature, so why bother even trying? If we are determined that such things can never be achieved, it will be a self-fulfilling prophecy. If, for example, we never try to end war, because we have become convinced by the concept of human nature that it’s not possible, we will never actually know if it is possible or not! To be sure, from the standpoint of the state and capitalism (and many religious institutions), this is an incredibly effective tool against dissent. Convince people that they are ultimately evil and need Big Brother to curb their evil instincts and they will fall in line and not question your authority.

According to Graeber, the idea of “self-interest”—that we are all ultimately self-interested—originated in St. Augustine’s doctrine of original sin. But “When it was first introduced,” Graeber writes, “most English authors seemed to view the idea that all human life can be explained as the pursuit of self-interest as a cynical, foreign, Machiavellian idea, one that sat uncomfortably with traditional English mores.” Nevertheless, “By the eighteenth century, most in educated society accepted it as simple common sense.”[11] Why did society suddenly jump onto the self-interest bandwagon? According to Graeber,

Part of the term’s appeal was that it derived from bookkeeping. It was mathematical. This made it seem objective, even scientific. Saying we are all really pursuing our own self-interest provides a way to cut past the welter of passions and emotions that seem to govern our daily existence, and to motivate most of what we actually observe people to do (not only out of love and amity, but also envy, spite, devotion, pity, lust, embarrassment, torpor, indignation, and pride) and discover that, despite all this, most really important decisions are based on the rational calculation of material advantage—which means that they are fairly predictable as well.[12]

The idea of the ultimately self-interested nature of human beings, then, was useful and served as a way to cut past all of the messiness of daily life, reducing it all to economic cost-benefit calculations. It was a means of simplifying the complexities of human actions and emotions. A convenience perhaps, but in the end it remains unclear why such a singular explanation is necessary in the first place.

Let me be clear: I am not arguing that human beings are “ultimately good.” I am not arguing that human beings are ultimately anything. While I do believe that, per Kropotkin and de Waal (and others), empathy and mutual aid are evolutionarily wired into us, my claim is that such explanations as “human nature,” which depend on there being one basic principle by which everything else is constituted are unnecessarily—and dangerously—reductive. Again, why do human beings have to be either ultimately good or ultimately bad? Why can’t we look our history, riddled not only with war, greed, and profit, but also with heroism, selflessness, love, compassion, and mutual aid, and simply conclude that human beings are capable both of great evil and of great good? Doing so can certainly be frightening, as we are forced to accept responsibility for our actions—rather than blaming it all on human nature—and must realize that the future, far from dragging us helplessly into a world that is just as selfish, greedy, and war-torn as our past, is actually undecided and undetermined and waiting for us to act to bring it into reality. And we have a say in whether that reality is better or worse than our current condition. “To begin to free ourselves,” writes Graeber, “the first thing we need to do is to see ourselves again as historical actors, as people who can make a difference in the course of world events. This is exactly what the militarization of history is trying to take away.”[13] The concept of human nature would have us believe that we are slaves to fate, but I do not think that such nihilism is at all necessary.

To my mind, human nature is in the same camp as determinism, reductive materialism, and Nietzschean will to power—viz., I think they are reductionist and self-referentially inconsistent. As I mentioned earlier, if we are all ultimately selfish, where did the idea of selflessness even come from? And why did we decide that such a mode of action, which apparently runs contrary to our very natures, is in fact desirable and even morally superior? Some might argue that a psychological and/or ethical egoist position could quickly do away with this objection, but to my mind de Waal effectively dispenses with such alternatives when he writes that “Explanations in terms of mental calculations (“If I help her now, she will help me in the future”) don’t cut it: Why would anyone risk life and limb for such a shaky prediction? Only immediate emotions can make one abandon all caution.”[14] We are empathic, social creatures, who thrive on community, compassion, and mutual aid. As de Waal concludes, “A society based purely on selfish motives and market forces may produce wealth, yet it can’t produce the unity and mutual trust that makes life worthwhile.”[15] (De Waal also tellingly notes that, statistically, “Less egalitarian states suffer higher mortality,”[16] whereas more egalitarian states and societies tend to produce greater happiness and overall well-being.)

Therefore, I would propose that we dispense with the fictitious and oppressive concept of “human nature” altogether, and open ourselves up to the possibility of doing better. After all, apologists for the state and capitalism often also believe that the founding of the United States was a great improvement for humanity. But if the utopian revolutionaries of the 18th century were able to make humanity’s situation a bit better, why should “human nature” stop us now?

 

Notes

[1] Goldman, Emma (2009-10-04). Anarchism and Other Essays (pp. 43-44). Public Domain Books. Kindle Edition.

[2] De Waal, Frans. The Age of Empathy. (New York: Three Rivers Press, 2009), 18.

[3] Ibid., 20.

[4] Ibid., 22.

[5] Ibid., 205.

[6] Kropotkin, Peter. Mutual Aid. (Mineloa, Dover Publications, Inc., 2006), 62.

[7] Graeber, David. Debt: The First 5,000 Years. (Brooklyn/London: Melville House, 2012), 210.

[8] De Waal, 36.

[9] Qtd., De Waal, 38.

[10] Graeber, 320.

[11] Ibid., 331.

[12] Ibid., 331.

[13] Ibid., 383.

[14] De Waal, 106.

[15] Ibid., 221.

[16] Ibid., 197.

What’s Wrong With Capitalism?

In the previous post I argued from the standpoint of the inter-subjective theory of consciousness that relationships predicated on domination are — if I may be so bold as to use the term — immoral (there are different methods which one may employ to arrive at immorality, but the basic idea is that, where domination is present, I can neither recognize myself as self nor the other as self, and, insofar as recognition of self-as-self and other-as-self is inherent to our nature, this is a problem.)  Assuming this evaluation is correct, the next reasonable question is, what about capitalism?  In the realm of political theories which would seek to eradicate the domination of the state, there are those who would argue that capitalism must also be eradicated (left-libertarians, libertarian socialists, social anarchists,etc.) and those who maintain that capitalism should be preserved (right-libertarians, minarchists, so-called anarcho-capitalists, etc).

Classical anarchism is rooted in socialism, which, by the end of the 19th century had split between anarchists of various stripes and Marxists (i.e., socialists who do not advocate the immediate elimination of the state).  What the two still held in common, however, was the conviction that capitalism must be abolished.  Marx understood capitalism as boiling down to two essential things: the accumulation of profit and private property.  Based upon this definition, an ethical critique of capitalism follows quite naturally.  While I do not consider myself a Marxist, the following is an excerpt from a paper I wrote over Marx’s critique of capitalism which I feel succinctly encapsulates my argument against capitalism.  The underlying assumption, as will become clear, is that individual human persons are inherently valuable, which immediately problematizes the ethical egoist foundation of capitalism, which reduces the value of individual persons to monetary gain and therefore, in principle, renders such concepts as human rights and social justice tertiary at best, and immoral at worst, should they conflict with the only absolute value which is profit maximization.

The goal of the accumulation of profit may be very briefly shown to naturally result in exploitation and alienation.  Quite simply, when the goal of opening a certain factory and hiring workers to work in that factory is to accumulate profit for the owner/employer, it is obvious that the worth of these workers will be valued insofar as they bring in profit.  Should a particular worker bring in (what is perceived as) too little profit, she will be swiftly let go and replaced by another who can ensure greater profit for the corporate elites, no matter what the negative consequences may be upon the worker who has been dismissed.  Had she brought in more profit, her employment would have been maintained and, essentially, she would have deserved the wages which will afford her food, housing, etc.  What this essentially boils down to is this: if the worker is not monetarily valuable to the employer, she does not deserve to eat, have a home, or any other of the basic necessities.  And not only this, but insofar as labor laws require corporations to spend more money to ensure the safety of its workers, in the absence of such laws these safety precautions will likely not be taken and thus the workers will be subjected to unsafe working conditions.  But because their labor is forced (as a result of the nature of the system), they must continue working under these conditions regardless (assuming they want to eat, of course).  [Note: many will argue that labor is not forced because the worker voluntary gives her labor to the capitalist in exchange for pay, and she could just as soon “take her work elsewhere”, as the saying goes.  This line of argument has problems, however.  First of all, because corporations are in competition with one another, they must produce the greatest amount of product, for the least possible cost, to gain the maximum amount of profit.  As a result, we have no reason to assume, should the laborer look elsewhere for employment, that the next employer would be any better than the first.  Secondly, what often happens is that one giant corporation monopolizes the market and destroys the competition.  When this happens, the laborer essentially has two options: work for this corporation, regardless of the conditions or pay, or don’t work at all, which means, in effect, give up the possibility of food, shelter, and livelihood.  It is a lose-lose situation.  Hence, labor is forced because it is performed out of necessity rather than desire.]

Now, to be fair, all of this assumes a rather libertarian-esque, laissez-faire economy, and one may reasonably argue that we now have laws in place which are meant to protect workers from these very dangers which result from the capitalist system.  However, to the mind of the present author, this is an absurd justification.  To say that the system should be maintained because, though the system naturally results in overwhelming amounts of exploitation and dehumanization, laws have been implemented to, in varying degrees, defend against this exploitation and dehumanization is hardly justification.  When the foundation of a home is causing problems we do not simply patch the roof and repaint the siding and call it good.  So too, following Marxian argumentation, capitalism should be abolished and an entirely new system adopted.

But this is not the only aspect of capitalism which results in alienation.  Private property, according to Marx, “is on the one hand the product of alienated labour, and on the other hand the means by which labour is alienated, the realization of this alienation” (308).  Specifically, a possession becomes private property when it brings profit to the owner, who does not himself work, but rather hires workers to work and earn profit for him.  And once this happens, the worker finds herself in the situation described above.

Obviously, what has been offered is only a brief argument against capitalism, but I think it is sufficient in demonstrating why it is, at best, not readily apparent that capitalism is a desirable system and, at worst, that it most certainly is not a desirable system.  There is much more which could still be said for the violence, oppression, coercion, racism, sexism, classism, etc. which is arguably also inherent to the capitalist system.  However, based upon the above argument, it is not difficult to see how such implications would naturally follow from capitalism.

Coupled with the previous post on inter-subjectivity, then, what has been offered is an argument in favor of a social structure predicated on anti-authoritarianism, anti-capitalism, and egalitarianism — that is to say, anarchism.