areas (it could be less in areas where the cost of living is lower). The average increase of experienced well-being associated with incomes beyond that level was precisely zero.’80
For those who are sceptical about the reliability of ‘happiness data’, there are more objective indicators. Based on the analysis of extensive data spanning many countries and decades, epidemiologists Kate Pickett and Richard Wilkinson confirm that reducing inequality benefits the whole of society in fundamentally important and sometimes surprising ways:
In societies where income differences between rich and poor are smaller, the statistics show that community life is stronger and levels of trust are higher. There is also less violence, including lower homicide rates; physical and mental health tends to be better and life expectancy is higher. In fact, most of the problems related to relative deprivation are reduced: prison populations are smaller, teenage birth rates are lower, educational scores tend to be higher, there is less obesity and more social mobility. What is surprising is how big these differences are. Mental illness is three times more common in more unequal countries than in the most equal, obesity rates are twice as high, rates of imprisonment eight times higher, and teenage births increase tenfold.81
Humanity has the resources to eradicate starvation, illiteracy, extreme poverty and some of the world’s deadliest diseases; it has the means to deepen and expand human freedom for every person on the planet. So why does deprivation and inequality persist? Why do Earth’s bountiful resources and humanity’s endless creativity serve so few at the expense of so many? Not because the rewards in our society go to those who deserve them, not because it’s necessary to incentivise people, and not because it benefits the whole of society. The great imbalance of wealth simply reflects the great imbalance of power.
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Once we discard the myth of responsibility, the framework of desert that leads us to punish and reward also falls away. We’ve seen that the distribution of punishment and reward in society cannot be explained in terms of what people deserve. We’ve also seen that alternative justifications for the outcomes we observe in the world – such as the deterrence argument to justify punishment, and the contribution and incentive arguments to justify extreme inequality – do not stand up to scrutiny.
The distribution of penalties and privileges is ultimately a product of power. Power defines what counts as a crime, who should be punished and how severely. Power shapes the laws which set the rules of the market, strengthening the bargaining hand of some and weakening it for others. The highly skewed distribution of power in our world is central to any explanation of the outcomes we see around us. But how is this unequal distribution maintained? How is it that vast inequalities of wealth and power have survived, even flourished, in the democratic era? Why have people not used the equality of the voting booth to redress the blatant inequalities beyond it?
In Part One we explored the limits on our innate freedom. In Part Two we look at the limits on our political freedom. Numerous social forces vie to shape who we are and influence what we do. Making sense of these methods of control is an important part of changing them. Part Two will take up this challenge.
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PART TWO
THE ILLUSION OF CONSENT
4
Control
Sitting in a field, you notice an ant struggling to climb a long blade of grass. It falls, and then starts the climb again, diligently persevering until it reaches the top. Why might the ant be doing this? What will it gain? Nothing, actually. Its brain has been modified by a tiny parasite, known as a lancet fluke, that needs to find its way into the stomach of a sheep or cow in order to complete its reproductive cycle. The fluke is manoeuvring the ant into the position where it is most likely to be eaten.1 It is not conscious of what it is doing (it has no brain of its own); it is simply endowed with features that affect the ant’s brain in this way. Similar parasites infect fish and mice, among other species.
Creatures like the fluke control the brains of other organisms directly. Most species exert control by manipulating the signals that reach a brain. The mirror orchid tricks male wasps into delivering their pollen to other flowers by resembling a female wasp. Its deceptive appearance and scent exploit the sexual urges of the male to its own advantage. In fact, the imitation scent is even more intoxicating and alluring than the real thing, leaving male wasps unable to resist doing the orchid’s bidding. Other creatures, such as moths, lizards and octopuses, exhibit remarkable powers of camouflage which enable them to deceive predators and prey alike.
In nature, the struggle to survive and the drive to procreate maintain a relentless battle for control. Some species exert control by brute force, others have evolved more subtle strategies. Organisms fight to the death to access the myriad forms of energy locked up around them – in sunlight, plants, flesh and bone. The outcome of this endless struggle determines which creatures gain control over the resources available, including that most valuable resource: other organisms.
Ultimately, all conflicts arise from the desire to control the future. Today’s struggles shape what tomorrow will look like. When two aims are incompatible, for one to succeed, the other must fail. The human realm has its own conflicts: the control of slaves by their masters; the persecution of one race by another; the subjugation of women by men; the manipulation of the illiterate by the educated; the exploitation of workers by bosses; and the oppression of poorer nations by richer ones. Like the struggles of other species, human conflict is a battle to determine who gets to do what with the resources available, including that most valuable resource: other people.
We all have visions of the future that we’d like to realise – some grand, some modest – but shaping the future is no easy task. Under our direct and immediate control we have the movement of our limbs and the production of speech, but even these physical and cognitive resources are subject to strict constraints. We can only be so smart and so strong. Our power to act on the world is tightly bounded. One way to transcend our individual limits is cooperation – another is control (and the line between the two is often blurred). If we control not just our own limbs and speech but those of others too, we increase our capacity to bring about the outcomes we desire. The will of a single individual can be channelled through the bodies and minds of many. Alone, a president cannot invade another country, but, positioned at the top of a hierarchy giving him control over a vast army, it becomes possible. Unaided, a media mogul may not be able to sway an election but, as the head of an organisation that directs the activities of hundreds of journalists whose words reach millions of people, it becomes conceivable.
Pyramidal structures concentrate power in the hands of those who sit atop them. This power is always open to abuse. It enables the ideas and priorities of a small number to be imposed on the lives of millions – ideas and priorities that have a strong tendency to include wide-ranging privileges for those doing the imposing. However, the attempt to control people always risks provoking resistance, one born of the power possessed by every one of us: the power to choose. Although we are not ultimately responsible – because we make choices with a brain we didn’t choose – we do still make choices. And this power to choose is extremely valuable, the starting point for all the freedom that is available to us.
Choices present an opportunity to those who control them and can pose a threat to those who do not. Unavoidably, they affect the balance of power in society and it is power that determines the future. Just as the power of the river shapes the landscape, the power of choices moulds our social reality. The work we do, the politicians we vote for, the products we buy, the groups we support, the words we say – all of it produces ripples of effects that either reinforce or change the way things are. Every choice becomes part of the chain of causality, transforming the collective reality and altering the course of history. This becomes even clearer when we realise that a choice to do one thing is at the same time a choice not to do something else. The choice to work is a choice not to strike. The choice to buy a sports car is a choice not to give that money to charity. The choice to spend billions preparing for war is a choice not to spend that amount on feeding malnourished children.