The obscenity of unbridled capitalism is no better expressed than in the fact a mere eight billionaires have as much wealth as half the entire global population.
Tell a child in Sudan, or Syria, or the meaner streets of Flaxmere for that matter, that these are their role models, and they will look at you as if you - or at least, the elite - are from another planet.
But we're all in this together; there is no Planet B. Despite which, the rich prefer to believe money somehow makes them different. It doesn't; it just makes them indifferent. A meanness of spirit and callousness of outlook that has already divided the formerly-great egalitarian socialist democracy known as New Zealand.
Wealth disparity is aided and abetted by a deepening of the trough of our low-wage economy that has seen the minimum wage lose ground against inflation since 1975, while house prices - a classic indicator of so-called "economic health" - are twice what mere inflation-adjustment would dictate.
So people are earning less and paying more just to get by, while "generation rent" has fundamentally changed the Kiwi dream: most "millennials" are and, albeit in somewhat more comfort, will remain as homeless as those sleeping rough in Napier's Clive Square.
But landlords are only the end-feeder on the exploitation chain. The real culprits are the employers who treat workers as disposable because unions have been gutted and employment "law" is a one-sided farce.
It was no surprise to read of the Auckland Business School study identifying conditions akin to slavery in fishing, horticulture, hospitality, construction and other industries exploiting migrant and immigrant workers.
But it's NZ-born citizens too.
A quick example: boy has career path (in fitness training) mapped, studies hard, gets qualified, goes bright-eyed for a job, becomes a "sub-franchisee" who has to pay to access the workplace and work free hours for the company on call with no retainer, while seeking his own clients from whom to make money.
Result? In four months he's burnt out, is in debt to his "employer", and his dream dies as he's forced into door-to-door commission sales to survive - hardly the professional goal he set himself.
That's my son. Chewed up and spat out not because he lacked skills or commitment, but because "real jobs" on the bottom rung in the fitness industry are a perverse joke.
For most "average" workers, that's a daily scenario set on endless repeat.
Meanwhile the better-off naively wonder why we have so many social problems. But they couldn't possibly be to blame, could they.
- Bruce Bisset is a freelance writer and poet.
- This column is the opinion of the columnist on
a matter of public interest and does not necessarily represent the view of Hawke's Bay Today.
