Days 29-41: June 29-July 11, 2009 (vacation to an imaginary island)

I haven't been able to get the concept of greed out of my mind since that special I heard on NPR and wrote about two posts ago. There are extreme cases we can point to, such as Bernie Madoff, whom I think we can all agree was greedy when he stole $65 billion from clients. But what about the rest of us operating in the ordinary world? My father is, and paternal grandfather was, a successful business man, but I wouldn't say either were driven by greed. In fact, while they may have been motivated by an above average entrepreneurial ambition, both are (or were, in my grandfather's case) quite humble, hard-working men who happened to succeed financially. No country clubs, no Bentleys, no mansions, just the basics––nice basics but basics.   

And I don't think Pat Robertson's greed/lust analogy quite fits either, because wanting something one doesn't have and wanting it now is what drives most human pursuits, and one can work hard toward a goal and still be greedy. (Madoff worked diligently toward his goal over a period of many years.) No, I think greed is an abstract term (we know it when we see it: "don't be greedy") that's situational and independent of class. 

While on vacation, I decide to try an experiment and travel to an imaginary island, something like Plato's Republic. On this imaginary island, everyone receives the same pay, no matter what their jobs. Their basic needs are taken care of––eggs, flour, sugar, etc. are provided––but there's nothing superfluous, though the island does produce beautiful, ornate wooden boxes, which many people in the outside world want. While there are tight controls on the media and information (no internet!), the island people still sometimes see images of the outside world, which they are banned from visiting (though tourists from the outside world can visit the island). The people are free to marry whom they want, become whatever profession they want through free education, and health care is provided. The imaginary island seems ideal since, free of monetary worries, the people are able to pursue, in Plato's words, "the gold and silver in the composition of their souls . . . drawing them towards virtue and the ancient ways."

But as Plato accurately predicts the deterioration of his Republic, you can probably predict the problems of the imaginary island. Plato writes, "[A young man's] father tends the growth of reason in his soul, while the rest of the world is fostering the other two elements, ambition and appetite. By temperament he is not a bad man, but he has fallen into bad company, and the two contrary influences result in a compromise: he gives himself up to the control of the middle principal of high-spirited emulation and becomes an arrogant and ambitious man."

And this is exactly what happens on my imaginary island: people want to emulate the ambition and appetites they see in the outside world. So, in the name of "survival" not greed, the island people begin finding ways to create and hide wealth. Some overcharge foreign visitors to stay in their houses; some steal the ornate wooden boxes from the factory and sell them to visitors on the street; and many women become prostitutes, selling the commodity most readily available to them. And this is where the moral water gets murky. I would say anytime you steal anything, no matter how small the item, you're driven by greed. Unless, of course, you're starving and stealing is your only means of survival; then you're being a human motivated by self-preservation, which is the innate drive of every cell in the planet's biosphere. But the line of greed is hard to draw and easy to cross.

So things fall apart, and the island residents turn into mini-entrepreneurs, forgetting the ideals and virtues that founded the island. They hassle foreign visitors, begging them for their brand-name jeans and shoes, which are unavailable on the island. The resourceful residents find ways to steal the Internet and cable TV, allowing them wider access to the outside world, fostering more avarice and emulation. They think life would be so much better out there, where one's free to buy cars and accumulate untold amounts of wealth and eat anything they want. They can't see that these things create their own problems: pollution; insatiable avarice; and obesity. And so what are the island people to do but push forward toward that ever-blinding light of prosperity that guides the outside world toward its own self-fulfilling prophecy of apocalyptic delight? 

Man, I'm going to need a vacation from my vacation.