Opinion ‘Capitalism and Its Critics’ Review: Enemies of the Market Mindset - Utopian followers of Karl Marx prophesied the collapse of market economies, but capitalism has proved resilient.

If capitalism had been overthrown as quickly as Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels had at first expected, John Cassidy’s sprawling “Capitalism and Its Critics” would have been shorter and easier to write, if not to sell. But, resilient, protean, abused and occasionally bailed-out, capitalism is still with us, and so are its critics, the latest in a line so long that Mr. Cassidy, who was setting out to tell capitalism’s story (or much of it) through their eyes, was spoiled for choice. Capitalism always provides consumers, and readers, with plenty of what they are looking for.

Mr. Cassidy, a writer for the New Yorker, chose wisely and widely, selecting reformers as well as revolutionaries, the renowned and the not so well-known, among them “lesser-known figures who made interesting contributions.” The last might include Anna Wheeler (ca. 1780-1848), an upper-crust Anglo-Irishwoman who took on the economic system and the oppression of her sex. She was, wrote Benjamin Disraeli, “very clever but awfully revolutionary.” Her grandson became the viceroy of British India.

Some were picked because they captured “an entire epoch.” Thus Thorstein Veblen (1857-1929), known for coining the term “conspicuous consumption” in 1899, is paired with the Gilded Age of Rockefellers, Vanderbilts and the rest. The fate of the Russian economist Nikolai Kondratiev (1892-1938), however, neatly symbolizes the arrival of an iron age. A supporter of the successful policy under which the struggling young Soviet state allowed a partial return to a market economy, he queried both the wisdom of collectivization and the inevitability of capitalism’s collapse (he was duly imprisoned and shot).

Despite the book’s length, its author does not claim that it is a comprehensive account. It is “a history,” not “the history,” and it comes with a slant. Mr. Cassidy is on the left, as are the majority of those he has recruited to help tell capitalism’s tale. This wouldn’t be the book I would recommend for someone searching for a single introductory account of capitalism’s ascendance and the qualities that have ensured its survival. But for those who want to dig more deeply, regardless of their ideological orientation, “Capitalism and Its Critics” offers an intriguing, if skewed, perspective, and benefits from a skillful explanation of complex ideas in clear, often lively prose.

Mr. Cassidy tracks the evolution of capitalism since the Industrial Revolution (with a look back at some of what preceded it) by weaving his narrative together with the thoughts of intelligent, highly opinionated eyewitnesses. Most of those eyewitnesses—Mr. Cassidy’s posse of critics—are given their own chapter. Besides those listed above, other familiar figures include Marx (1818-83), Engels (1820-95) and Rosa Luxembourg (1871-1919) from the revolutionary left, and also John Maynard Keynes (1883-1946), a critical figure in a narrative where one key theme is unruly capitalism’s often downplayed reliance on the support of the state. Henry George (1839-97) shows up with his proposed tax on land value, William Thompson (1775-1833) dreams of small, self-supporting cooperative communities, ideas later mocked as utopian by Marx and Engels, two millenarians.
Mr. Cassidy has little to say about criticism of capitalism from the right, which is a pity given how that has been on the rise. Milton Friedman (1912-2006) and Friedrich Hayek (1899-1992), “the two patron saints of neoliberalism,” do feature on his roster, but mainly as critics of Keynes and “Keynesianism” and the social-democratic settlement that by the 1970s appeared to be simultaneously failing and overreaching. The enthusiasm that Friedman and Hayek had for free markets and free trade, and their aversion to regulation, are central to the type of capitalism that the new right is rejecting.

Some of the tribes of the old right felt something similar. In the course of a lengthy section on the Hungarian economist Karl Polanyi (1886-1964), the author notes Polyani’s work on the relationship between fascism and capitalism, but, as with so much in Mr. Cassidy’s book, none of this can be read merely as history: Earlier fascist or fascist-adjacent regimes distrusted capitalism but pressed it into service, a pattern now visible again in Xi Jinping’s China.

Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881), the sole conservative to make Mr. Cassidy’s cut, took issue with how the combination of laissez-faire and industrial capitalism had undermined society’s natural hierarchy (“the sage of Chelsea” was no democrat). He was also appalled by the condition—physical and, as he saw it, spiritual—to which the working classes had been reduced, sentiments noted with some approval by Engels in an early demonstration of the “horseshoe principle,” which describes how those on the extreme left and right come to the same views.

Mr. Cassidy observes that choosing his cast of critics “was greatly helped by the fact that, over the centuries, the central indictment of capitalism has remained remarkably consistent: that it is soulless, exploitative, inequitable, unstable, and destructive, yet also all-conquering and overwhelming.”
Given the astonishing transformation wrought by the symbiosis between capitalism and technology since the Industrial Revolution, that consistency says less about capitalism’s wickedness than about the dogmatism of many of its critics, particularly as the fruits of that partnership became ever more apparent. After millennia in which global gross domestic production did not grow, it started taking off in the early 1800s, “slowly at first,” writes Mr. Cassidy, “then more steeply, eventually almost vertically. As output and productivity rose … Earth was able to support many more people,” to more than eight billion today from around 790 million in 1750. That’s a lot of souls for a supposedly soulless system.

This consistency suggests that some of these perennial objections may be less rational than those making them may think. The British economist Joan Robinson (1903-83) liked to sleep in an unheated hut in her garden, an eccentricity Mr. Cassidy does not mention. Evangelists of degrowth, a form of eco-zealotry pioneered by Nicholas Georgescu-Roegen (1906-94, and someone else who merits a chapter in this book), are not known for their approval of creature comforts. Such asceticism—or its milder variant, distaste for “wasteful” extravagance reinforced by self-righteousness—is far from rare among capitalism’s critics. That may be one reason why the prosperity created by capitalism counts for so little to them—and inequality for so much.

Robinson moved leftward throughout her career. She was for many years an admirer of Mao, of Stalin and (although Mr. Cassidy does not allude to it) of North Korea. He merely relates that Robinson “held her views passionately, sometimes to the point of blindness.” She was, said one of her colleagues, “always looking for Utopia.” Mr. Cassidy notes Robinson’s belief that “state-led industrialization” was the best way for underdeveloped countries to shake off the legacy of colonialism. This was a not uncommon view at the time. Then again, at one point, she had advocated something very close to central planning in Britain.

Capitalism’s critics are almost always predisposed toward a stronger state: It is the corollary of the policies they favor, and they, of course, believe they will be in charge. But when state economic intervention goes above a certain level—as, for example, some environmentalists would maintain is needed to save the planet—how compatible is that with liberal democracy? This is not a question that would worry some of those profiled by Mr. Cassidy, who were drawn to authoritarianism by politics, personality or both.

Much of the later part of “Capitalism and Its Critics” is effectively a red(dish)-green(ish) critique of the effects of neoliberalism—specifically deregulation, growth and globalization—and includes an upbeat account of the left’s intellectually dubious exploitation of the 2008-09 financial crisis. At the same time, we have seen a reaction against globalization in portions of the American right—another example of the horseshoe principle, it seems. Capitalism’s greatest challenge may come from elsewhere, however: Mr. Cassidy’s earlier chapters on the Industrial Revolution offer a grim warning that enormous advances in automation are not as easily accommodated within the existing workforce as happy legend suggests. Yet that is what lies ahead.

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A little on the late side, but better late than never.
 
624 pages summarizing generations of Marxists predicting the inevitable collapse of capitalism and complaining when it doesn't happen. Its an awe inspiringly useless book.

It seems to be a bland marxist critique of capitalism with all sorts of history "window dressing" so that those who generated it can pretend it is something other than what it actually is. Which seems to yet another call to adopt Marxism. The history focus also allows the rather poorly educated generally stupid author to avoid making his own arguments for the communist future he clearly still yearns for.
 
Marx invents a term for bartering and keeping the fruits of your labor to yourself. Something that human beings have done since the stone age. Then proclaims that he has the perfect solution to not let people do that. He also predicts one day that people will stop doing that. So far 150 years after his death people are still doing that.
 
Over time, I've come to believe the undead menace of communism is going to be the most persistent threat to our species. The people obsessed with this fake and gay "economic theory" (it's actually a faux religion) will never give up on it. Its exclusive failure doesn't bother them at all. It appeals to certain types of people (among others, life's losers) who will never stop coming into existence, and they are willing to do or say anything to usher in their Utopia.

Why? When we were evolving and living in tribes (troupes?), the group did share a lot of resources communally, and so if someone was ridiculously wealthy, it was because they were hogging resources. At that point, there was no huge marketplace allowing talented strangers to share their gifts with other strangers for profit. It probably kept our ancestors alive to demand resource sharing with the backing of violence. You can observe the instinct even in animals towards violence when another has something you don't have.

But communal living rules can't scale. And the corresponding impulse misdirects us in the same way our desire for calorie-rich foods can lead us towards dysfunction. Nobody who thinks it's "moral" for everyone* to be equally poor gives a fuck that their ideology is unworkable, because they don't care if it works. They care that it's "fair."

I fucking hate them with every fiber of my being.

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