I am a slave to money.
However, out of love for myself, truly, I do not want to be a slave to money.
That doesn’t mean I don’t like what I do. It has it’s moments.
Am I lazy, covetous, and jealous of the fabulously rich? Of course: I’m human. But I don’t think those flaws speak to the heart of why I don’t like my economic slavery.
Basically, my motivation is: I would prefer freedom – and there is nothing wrong with that. If Ed McMahon showed up at my door tomorrow with a check for $11 million dollars, I would cash it. I might not quit my job right away but I’d not have worry about finances ever again I can tell you that.
But as a result of desiring not to be a slave of money myself, I am faced with a moral dillema:
If I love my fellow man as I love myself, I shouldn’t want them to be slaves of money either.
But, intrinsicly, by spending the money I earn I’m encouraging the economic slavery of others. I am endorsing a social contract in which money is required to recieve food, clothing, and shelter. I am also creating jobs by spending money which allow no excuse for those who do not have money for these things not to become economic slaves themselves.
Of course, I live in a relatively free pocket of the global economy, where child labor is rare, where people only need to spend about a third of their waking life working, and where the punishments for deciding not to work are not as severe as in other corners of the globe. However, I can hardly chose to support other, more oppressed laborers, by simply not spending the money I earn on their goods when I know quite well where ever I spend my money it could end up in the hands of someone who is either not as fickle or who simply buys the cheapest commodities available no matter the source. Social Darwinism then comes into play.
Being a slave of money also has certain other consequences which are of concern to me, aside from my inherent participation in the enslavement of others. I also am forced to pay taxes to an empire whose policies I do not agree with. My taxes go to pay for a huge military and enough weapons of mass destruction to wipe out humanity many times over, and the salaries of saber rattling diplomats. About once a year these days my country invades or bombs some other country on what are often flimsy pretenses to show the world how mighty it is. My taxes go to perform abortions, and executions of people who occasionally turn out to be innocent. My taxes go to build prisons which mostly house people who have commited some property crime in violation of the economic slave system I inherently endorse, some of whom, again, are innocent. My taxes also go for things I am told are “good” but which really are just band-aids on the system, such that those too elderly or infirmed are not forced into lives of poverty – that would set a bad example for those of us who are still working if that was shown to be our ultimate reward. Not that it matters for I am told there will not be any money left by the time I am old to keep me out of poverty.
My alternative is to stop working for money. Of course, eventually I will not have enough money to pay my rent and will be evicted. I could couch surf for a while but I don’t think my friends would take too kindly to me eventually. So eventually, I’d end up on the street at the mercy of the elements, but at least I would know in my heart that I had love in my heart for my fellow man and know in my soul that I was free.
Of course, I doubt I’m going to do that. Again. Which means, effectively, I’m immoral and do not love my fellow man.
Fortunately, there does not seem to be any justice in this world, so it does not matter if I love my neighbor or not. I’ll be a good worker until I am too old and then, if I am lucky, stuck in a home somewhere to rot until I pass away.
Thoughts?