The Versailles Effect of Economics and Human Behaviour
Are we pushing towards the next violent upheaval in Australia?
"Those people who treat politics and morality separately will never understand either of them."
Jean-Jacques Rousseau
When the limit pushes back
You may have missed it, but on December 4 last year Brian Thompson — the CEO of United Healthcare (one of America’s largest health insurance companies) — was murdered in New York City, around 7 am, in the fairly public space in front of the Hilton Hotel in Midtown Manhattan. At the time of writing the prime suspect, Luigi Mangione, is awaiting trial, but it would be surprising if he is not found guilty of at least the murder charges hanging over him. After all, all the evidence shows this was not a petty burglar crime (he did not take any of Thompson’s belongings), but rather a calculated move, with the clear intention of sending a political message. Mangione even wrote a rather short manifesto where he claims Thompson (and possibly others, since the sentence is in plural) “had it coming”. He continues:
A reminder: the US has the #1 most expensive healthcare system in the world, yet we rank roughly #42 in life expectancy. United is the [indecipherable] largest company in the US by market cap, behind only Apple, Google, Walmart. It has grown and grown, but as our life expectancy? No the reality is, these [indecipherable] have simply gotten too powerful, and they continue to abuse our country for immense profit because the American public has allwed them to get away with it.
The problems with healthcare insurance in the US are nothing new, and criticism has been widespread (South Park summarises this brilliantly). Perhaps unsurprisingly, as CBC reports, many have praised him as a “modern day hero” and sympathised with the story behind his motives (a remarkable take by comedian Josh Johnson stands out as an example) while others, of course, have condemned Mangione’s actions — murder is murder after all. But the latter is the easier take, and the expected PR one. However, dismissing this as yet another crime, and shielding oneself from engaging with the topic using off-the-counter morals, simply pushes the can down the road and buries the head in the sand from conversations that people should have. After all, there is a violence-stained thread throughout human history that has a common narrative, which I would summarise as: “we need to get rid of those who abuse us, one way or another”. The thread is neither modern nor exclusive to America: think of the French or Russian Revolutions, for example. Australia is not spared, either — many Aussies wanted our former Victorian Premier Dan Andrews dead in the literal sense, and some went as far as bringing gallows and nooses to a protest, for example. Andrews might have resigned just before someone took him out, similarly to how Sri Lankan’s former president was forced to resign after protests broke out some years ago, probably thinking that the mob will take him out for good had he not done so. You can only push people so far before they push back, and while common people might know this instinctively, it appears as if the edifices where decision-makers and powerful people work and reside have allowed the latter to forget about this simple fact, time and time again.
Are we dangerously walking towards a genuine renewal of true violence as a means to get rid of power dynamics? While we live in comparatively peaceful times, have we really outgrown our violent nature? Or have we simply not been pushed far enough? I believe the conversation is timely and pertinent, lest we soon find ourselves amidst the next violent upheaval to end whatever abuse people might have decided to remediate.
Marie Antoinette - could anyone forget you?
Without knowing if it existed (now I know it refers to something quite different), some years ago I coined the term “the Versailles effect” (for myself at least) to describe the amalgam of numerous social and political attitudes and behaviours that share a common essence: disdain and dismissal of the general public, abuse of public resources (i.e., money) or hogging of food while others struggle and starve, incapacity to empathise with the common folk, and generally everything that was aptly captured by Marie Antoinette’s rather succinct “let them eat cake”. Hence the Versailles effect.
While the execution of “the Austrian” at the blade of the guillotine had of course more causes and a longer brewing time and was not simply precipitated by that phrase alone — or at least so write some historians —, I would argue the phrase pushed the accelerator on her journey towards her demise. When I was young I was told that, such was the hatred for her and what she represented, that after her beheading the head was thrown at the people, where it got spat at and kicked around until it literally fell apart and there was nothing left to kick (though this is something I have not been able to corroborate).
Many shapes of this Versailles effect can be observed in the modern era, if one cares to pay attention to the not-so-subtle tone and wording some powerful individuals use when communicating with the general people — or dare I say the vulgus, the peasantry, the uneducated mob, as they imply by the attitude surrounding their words. A rather recent and pertinent example comes to mind, from the country I grew up in: Chile (I apologise for some of the sources for this topic, since they’re in Spanish due to the local nature of the topic).
Following (yet another) public transport fare raise, Economic Minister Juan Andrés Fontaine went on to say (loosely translated) that whoever wants to enjoy a cheaper fare should get up earlier, alluding to the cheaper fare one could get if taken the subway very early in the morning. Only a couple weeks from that unfortunate statement a violent revolution started — perhaps the biggest one since Chile returned to democracy in 1990 after Pinochet’s military rule — and the first victim was none other than the subway system. The revolution might not have had literal beheadings or as big a human toll as the French Revolution, understandably, but it was still violent in nature: buildings were burnt, subway stations were destroyed, and so on, despite authorities sometimes claiming that these events had no connection with the protests (it is hard to imagine such unprecedented scale and coordination not being linked to the wider protest, as it all happened either on the same day or the next). Of course, and similar to the demise of Marie Antoinette, the latest Chilean revolution was not started by an unfortunate tweet by an out-of-touch politician (as the chant went, “it’s not 30 pesos, it’s 30 years [of economic discontent]”), but how could we prove it did not have an effect in tipping people over the edge? It appears to me the powder keg was set, and Fontaine simply helped light it, much like Marie Antoinette did back in her days.
Is Australia immune to violent revolutions?
Australian history (particularly the Eureka Rebellion of 1854, for example), and the more recent public display of gallows and nooses against Dan Andrews during the pandemic hints at the answer: No, I do not believe Australia is immune violent rebellions as a means to change the system. Further, I fear we might be dangerously playing with the fire of the human soul once again, even when Australia has not had revolutions comparable to, say, the French or Russian ones — not yet at least. Economic and other reasons aside, this is one of the reasons why I cannot understand how many powerful Australian bureaucrats simply keep pushing for out-of-touch — and at times quite outrageous — policies such as the Northern Beaches Council voting to raise rates 40 percent, or the Federal Government’s push for taxing supperannuation for wealthy retirees. This is not something exclusive of politicians, of course: the Commonwealth Bank of Australia wanting to charge people for accessing their cash, the Woolworths and Coles price gouging scandal, or Qantas’ illegal dismissal of workers during the pandemic while pocketing record profits after being bailed out by the goverment (read, using taxpayer money), are all simply some of the latest examples from the corporate world. Then-CEO Alan Joyce even went as far as ruling out paying it back. All of this while Australian wages are going backwards in real terms, and quality of life keeps sliding, slowly but surely. Can we blame Aussies for being fed up with the status quo?
The problem however is that not many take the time to separate the wheat from the chaff, and this is a problem on all sides of the political spectrum. While many activists chant against and resent those who make profits without pausing to think that without profit there would be no incentive to take on the economic risks required to create companies and enterprises, many of those who defend profits make the mistake of bagging together making profits and profiteering (i.e., making profits via unethical practices, thus leading to resentment and condemnation), and are thus perceived as justifying in the perceived immorality. The latter situation is compounded when monopolies, oligopolies, and cartel behaviour arise, because the consumers are deprived from their ability to vote with their wallet, thus brewing yet more resentment. Things are further compounded when the problem is as pressing as securing the basics: food, water, shelter; people understandably get angrier when they are being abused while trying to provide their loved ones with the essentials of a daily life (think of the base of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs). The latter is why I would argue that price gouging by supermarkets, or the current housing shortages in many countries around the world are particularly dangerous issues for social stability. Throw inappropriate migration policies and decreasing real wages on top, and you will quickly find yourself on the losing end of politics and society. But striking the right balance appears an impossible feat and, when the impossible is somehow made possible, it appears to last no longer than a decade or two.
People do not hate those who make money or create policy — they only do so when they abuse the system for personal gain, at the expense of either workers or the voters who chose them to keep their best interests at heart. Profit is simply the outcome of a voluntary economic exchange, and policies are required to some extent to organise the things we have agreed upon as a collective. Profits and policy are thus both required for society. The problem arises when companies profiteer without anyone holding them to account effectively (slaps on the wrist do not count), and when politicians create policies to favour their corporate friends (and the consumer pays the price), or abuse the system by using taxpayer money for things like politicians’ pensions or “resettlement allowances”, luxury dining at fine restaurants, family holidays, or even pork barrelling. In essence, this is a violation of the social contract societies like Australia abide to, where people are expected to follow common rules and behaviour that allow societies to perpetuate themselves and flourish, and expect to have options to vote with their wallets when it comes to companies and businesses.
Scandals and outrage mount and I cannot help but to wonder: do they not understand the essence of what is at stake? It seems the fact escapes them: when you mess with people, at some point (and History shows you) people come back to mess with you, and you might lose big in the aftermath of that exchange, especially if they feel they have nothing else to lose. The most chilling part, in my opinion, is that some of these issues and policies come out precisely as people struggle to pay for basic things like their electricity, their food, or their homes, as if the powerful were consciously provoking the people. That, or their blindness to the general state of affairs is indeed comparable to the older French nobility alluded to earlier.
The more politicians and corporate moguls dismiss the general people in contempt, in the name of unethical profits, or for simple personal gain using taxpayer money or bad policies — all while standards of living deteriorate, people cannot afford their houses, and Councils fail to pull basic feats such as fixing potholes —, the more the social contract gets eroded, and we should not be surprised if the contract gets eroded to the point of worthlessness in the not-so-distant future. And when social contracts are worthless, violence ensues in search of a replacement as, in essence, the legitimacy of the rulers and their power has been lost forever.
The murder of CEOs, the burning of subway stations, and the beheading of French aristocrats are all symptoms of a common brewing problem — one that we ignore at our own peril. But problems such as these have a historical tendency to grow too large to ignore for too long, and when the powder keg is lit once more we should remember what history has taught us. Will we blame the violent mob then, or will we be honest enough to at least have a discussion of what led to the violence in the first place? Or will we be wiser and realise today that there is a limit to putting profits over people, to misusing public money and to crony capitalism, and that the public’s patience should not be taken for granted?