I
feel like I drifted into the 21st century. I don’t really belong
here. I took form in the 20th century. I’m accustomed to electricity
and running water, watching movies and shopping for groceries. I would find
life without these things very hard. That makes me very twentieth century.
Where I go wrong and begin to feel queasy and alien is in the twenty-first
century. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not a total outcast. I’ve adapted well to some
things. I love my new tablet computer. I love Pandora. What I don’t get is the
complete and utter shift in values. Or the loss thereof: the erosion of civil
liberties, the normalization of drones and surveillance and endless war, the
transformation of universities into corporate industries for vocational training,
or the zombification of an entire population of people walking trance-like down
sidewalks fixated on mobile phones. These are the things that make me dizzy.
These are the things that make me feel anxious and ill at ease. And now I can
add one more to the list: Uber. Uber is the popular ride company that allows people with
smartphones to submit a trip request, which is then routed to Uber drivers who
use their own cars.
Uber, unlike taxi companies and
mass transit, doesn’t have to answer to a higher authority. Uber
doesn’t have to abide by the rules and regulations that protect consumers and workers
from criminality. Uber operators don’t have to file
for licenses, adhere to fixed rate standards, or comply with other county and
state regulations that determine when and how a for-hire car can be booked.
This seems anarchical to me in a way that erodes values of fair play and respect
for people in general. Uber defaults on any responsibility for the way their
drivers (and there really is no “their” in this scenario since drivers act as
their own agents with no oversight) abuse passengers, female passengers
especially, groping, bullying, or raping them. All Uber does is “deactivate”
any driver accused of criminal activity. This behavior seems uniquely fitted to
the new millennium in which everything is for profit and nothing is valued.
Value is vague, I know, a vague word, a value can be a goody buy at Goodwill
but it also means honoring honesty, compassion, courtesy, or at least
pretending to honor these things. Whether values are subjective
psychological states or objective states of the world I will leave to the
axiologists. My own feeling is that value is intrinsic and exists within the
mind, that value is a matter of perception, a quality of attention. Money is
good not because it is intrinsically good but because it leads to other things
which are intrinsically good. But isn’t it possible to bypass money and
discover the value of things without money? Doesn’t money enslave as much as it
endows?
The taxi drivers are protesting Uber in France. Vigorously. For
the last few years, almost since Uber got off the ground, they have blocked
roads, burned tires, and attacked drivers who they thought were working for
Uber. The French high court, the “Cour de cassation,” created the Loi Thévenoud (Thévenoud Law) which
prohibits chauffeured vehicles other than taxis to charge a per-kilometer fee,
to practice “electronic roaming” (the use of a smarphone app that shows the
location of nearby available vehicles to potential customers in real-time) and
making it a requirement that, when a ride is over, the chauffeured vehicle
returns to its home base or a place where they’re authorized to park. This concession
to the taxi drivers so pissed off the Uber drivers that today (February 8,
2016) the Uber drivers protested by blocking access to Roissy Charles de Gaule
airport. France has a very high unemployment rate. For a lot of people, turning
oneself into a taxi service is the only means to making a livable wage. The
overall conflict seems uniquely fitted to the neo-liberal forces of the millennium.
It’s dog against dog, the vulgarization of the commons into a theatre for gladiatorial
conflict. Human interaction has been degraded into cheating,
self-aggrandizement, and nail salons.
Here in Seattle, little has been heard from the taxi
drivers, although city councilwoman Kshama Sawant has been a very vocal
supporter of both taxi and Uber drivers to the have right to
unionize, and it is thanks largely to her efforts that Seattle
has become the first city to grant for-hire drivers the right to form
collective bargaining units, including employees of Uber. “The so-called
sharing economy is nothing new,” Sawant said. “It is not innovative. Ever since
sharecropping, the sharing economy has meant sharing in one direction; that is
workers have the privilege of sharing what they produce with their bosses. And
just like in the past, these workers have to take out loans to buy a car to use
for work and then they are trapped by debt
into the sharing economy.”
1980, the year John Lennon was murdered by gunshot
in the lobby of the Dakota hotel in Manhattan, and Reagan was elected
president, was the year I saw everything change for the worse. It’s when I
began seeing a spike in the homeless population. Consumerism, which was
considered toxic in the late 60s, became a national obsession. Wealth was
openly flaunted. Things became very Roman. Jimmy Carter’s “malaise speech” of
1979 was mocked and vilified. Reagan’s “Good Morning America,” which could be
translated as “Greed is Good,” became the true national anthem.
In the next twenty years technocracy exploded and
became the empire it is today, beginning in Silicon Valley (which was still
perfumed with orchards and canneries when I lived there in the late 60s) and now
here in Seattle. Seattle is now such a different city than the one I moved to
in 1975 I feel like I moved to an entirely different geographical location, a
city so removed from Seattle’s former unassuming architecture and humble
eccentricities it more resembles Santa Barbara or San Diego with its glitzy
skyscrapers, sky-rocketing real estate and burgeoning homeless population. The
general consensus of neo-liberalism and technocracy are so alien to me that I
feel like I’m the occupant of a dystopic city invented by a demented
science-fiction writer. But it’s not fiction. Not fiction at all.
I’ll say it again: I’m not against technology. Cutting
and pasting on a computer is a lot easier than retyping entire pages. I enjoy
the convenience of Google and Wikipedia. I used to think that technology was
chiefly responsible for the intellectual laziness of my fellow citizens and
their obsession with material goods. But after a trip to France in 2013 I
realized that this is not the case. Not at all. The French have the same
technology. They just choose to use it with far greater discretion. The French
still value books and art and conversation. Of all the hundreds of bistros and
restaurants I passed, each with a large outdoor patio, I didn’t see one person
alone with a laptop. Everyone was enjoying a conversation or reading a book or
magazine.
The United States has a had a long history of
anti-intellectualism and hostility toward abstract thought as opposed to hard
pragmatic git-er-done solutions. Americans are hardwired to be hardwired. Some
of us, however, opted out at an early age. I was fifteen when I very
consciously decided to dedicate myself to art and thought and altered states of
consciousness. Aldous Huxley’s The Doors
of Perception was a seminal influence.
Over the years I’ve met a few other people
extraordinary for their devotion to non-material values. Poetry in particular. The
fact that there still exist people who can get excited about making something
that lacks even the materiality of a painting or the immediate sensuality of
dance and music, that someone can work privately, work earnestly with
combinations of joy and frustration to make a poem, a thing without thingness,
a thing in celebration of thingness, things of the intellect, dreamed things,
invented things, is amazing. Some of these people have jobs and may not be
desperate for money, but some of these people have made a conscious decision to
devote themselves to this baffling and demanding art, this magnificently
mutinous revelry of words. Is that not strange?
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