Weekly Journal 6
This week, we talked about the policies part of the arch. (About time, methinks, because it was getting so gloomy and sad in MHC 200.) One of the things that struck out to me the most were the clips of the Nike sneaker sweat shops and Guyanese independent gold miners, and what little we could do about it. We could boycott whichever companies generating the most negative PR, but what of it? Other companies do it, too. There is no ideological change caused, and I doubt anything would come of boycotting a single company, even when people stick to it.
This reminded me of Naes’ Deep Ecology. Shallow Ecology is environmental ethics for the benefit of the affluent few, while Deep Ecology is for all living things. Perhaps this distinction could be made for human right, as well. I brought up a point in class that I want to elaborate on—that whatever we do as consumers will probably have no effect on the large-scale operation of corporations, and whatever we do is really to clean up the blood on our hands than to actually help these people.
For example: the blood diamonds. Professor Alexandratos said that we now are going for diamonds from reputable sources because of the negative PR it generated. But what of it? We’re merely treating what we the consumers chose rather than what the laborers do. It’s similar to end-of-pipe treatment: there is no radical change in the manufacturing process. (In this case, manufacturing process refers to the actual process as well as the conditions that brought on these manufacturing to the struggling people.) If we truly cared about the poor people laboring, dying, and poisoning themselves to meet our demand for gold and drapes and fineries, we would be trying to change the societies themselves rather than what comes out of it.
Some people argue that well, without the jobs we are providing for them, they are in a bad place without a job rather than a bad place with a job. Some people argue that they don’t want this kind of blood on their (gold-ringed) hands, and would rather not buy from the poor independent workers. And then they leave it at that. I suppose the first group of people is worse (since they don’t seem to extend empathy toward other humans very well), but the second kind of people isn’t helping, either. They’re merely removing themselves from the problem.
Well, fine, yes. They can shift the gold and diamond and garment industry, but only by consolidating the workers under a brand they can trust. But are they willing to pay the extra costs of having middlemen and humanely treated team of workers? I don’t plan on holding the breath for any corporations to cut into their exorbitant profits to keep the prices reasonable for the buyers. Look at the brands that sell a worsted t-shirt labeled “US Made” and “sweatshop-free” for $30. I’m sure they can cut into profits and make their clothes slightly more reasonable. But they won’t, because of the nature of the organizations. (Unless we go for an industry-wide boycott—but we discussed in class how that’s hard to do.)
(I also have a thought I’ve yet to fully form– perhaps “good-for-you-workers-and-environment” brands don’t want to lower costs partly because of the “brand image” they’re trying to sell. I think environmentalism and philanthropy became a mark of the affluent somehow, especially among the wealthy liberal college-educated crowd. I think that’s why people living near TriBeCa shop at Whole Foods and go for organic food chains named “Organique”. It’s a mark of who they are, how caring they are despite their privileges. Will they be so willing to buy worsted t-shirt labeled “US Made” and “sweatshop-free” if it became so cheap that, say, the middle-aged woman from Harlem with empty gaps in her smile could afford it? What if it’s so cheap that it’s become ubiquitous in poor parts of NYC, almost as ubiquitous as Hollister is among frat boys? It’s an exaggeration, for the sake of making a point, but still. I wonder.)
