Somehow, we've convinced ourselves that we’re all inherently rational, individualistic and selfish - and somehow that’s a good thing. Photo / Getty Images, File
Opinion by Amanda Janoo
OPINION
I’m from a small rural town in Vermont, with one paved road and general store.
I was raised in a bicultural household and, somewhere between my Hindu grandmother and Catholic grandfather, I developed a belief early on that the purpose of life is to be happy and to helpothers and that you can’t do one without the other.
Meaning that I can’t really be happy if I don’t feel like I’m positively contributing something to the world. Equally, I can’t really be helpful unless I’m happy.
This philosophy is what guided me to economics, because I saw the work as this complex Venn diagram with all these various interconnected social, political, ecological and spiritual issues and somewhere towards the centre sat the economy. If we could change this system, it would ripple out and improve all other areas of life.
What I ended up finding in mainstream economics was a lot of discussion of how the economy should work according to the laws of “the market” and very little discussion of how we can actually transform it.
I’ve spent most of my career as an economic policy expert and, from my experience to date, I believe that one of the greatest tricks played on humanity has been to present the economy as something boring and abstract, that happens “out there”, beyond our control.
The reality is, we are the economy and we’ve got the power to change it.
The economy is just a word we use to describe the way we produce and provide for one another. It’s a system that harnesses our creativity and facilitates exchange between people and planet to improve our quality of life.
But somewhere, we developed a strange assumption that the economy is driven by the worst parts of us – that when it comes to producing and providing for one another, we’re all inherently rational, individualistic and selfish and somehow that’s a good thing.
As a result, we designed policies and built institutions to encourage and reward this, which is why studies show that nearly a quarter of Fortune 500 chief executives exhibit psychopathic traits. They are the perfect “economic man”, devoid of compassion, empathy and consideration for the wellbeing of others.
We have come to glorify psychopathic behaviour because we have built a narrative that taking as much as we can for ourselves will somehow leave everyone better off.
The issue, of course, is that it’s not working out that way.
Not only is our ecosystem collapsing and our very survival at stake but this system is making us miserable, with loneliness, anxiety and depression sweeping the globe. We are deeply social creatures, who yearn for meaning, purpose and connection.
But, as the brilliant late David Graeber found, in countries like mine, the majority of people find no meaning in their work and believe that they have a job that is either contributing nothing to the world or actively making it worse off.
The problem is that we’ve now developed an economic system where there is almost a perfect inverse relationship between your salary and your societal contribution.
This is why hedge fund managers make millions while the workers we have deemed to be the most “essential” receive poverty wages.
There is nothing natural or inevitable about this set-up.
For decades we’ve evaluated our progress and development by our level of economic growth, so we developed policies to encourage and reward the large investors, corporations and entrepreneurs who are efficient at generating wealth and profits.
But people are now recognising that we’ve confused means and ends for too long, because what’s the point of living in the richest era in history if our planet is on fire and we all have to stand two metres apart?
In New Zealand, the top 311 families are worth $85 billion combined. That is more than the combined wealth of the bottom 2.5 million New Zealanders.
These top 311 pay an effective tax rate of half the average New Zealander.
On the eve of an election, we must think about the economy we want to effectively build together. This call to action sits at the heart of the wellbeing economy movement. It is about recognising that people and planet are not here to serve the economy; it is here to serve us.
Around the world, this movement comes under different banners but whether you call it ubuntu, buen vivir or a wellbeing economy, it’s about recognising that I am because you are and that what we need to prioritise is not growth, but balance.
This is not about figuring out how to take things more efficiently, it’s about building a system of reciprocal exchange that encourages and rewards the best, rather than the worst parts of us.
Where our work as caregivers, educators, artists and stewards of the earth are truly valued for the happiness and wellbeing they bring.
We can do better than climate change mitigation; we can build an economy that harnesses our innate creativity and energies towards healing and revitalising our natural world through ecosystem restoration, circular economy, regenerative agriculture and many more of the incredible solutions that politicians must take up and action in the next critical term of government here in Aotearoa.
The solutions are out there, and the public will is strong.
I believe that a different economic system is not only possible but already underway.